You Have Stolen (My Heart) [1/2] (for minchievous)
Title: You Have Stolen (My Heart)
Recipient: minchievous
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 14k
Warnings: badly written porn and other associated warnings with catboy AUs
Summary: In retrospect, maybe a stripper would have been a better alternative to getting a hybrid as a pet.
part one | two
When Jinyoung enters his apartment that Thursday evening and spies a body curled up on the couch and a tuft of black hair poking out from under a blanket, the first thing he does is call Mark.
Well, no, not exactly ? he may or may not have screamed and dropped the takeout noodles in his hand and his laptop bag in the other, watching with horror as the lump on the couch tensed up and hissed as it hid under the nearest coffee table, knocking over a stack of documents, a small pile of unread magazines, and an ugly ceramic poodle from Youngjae in the process. Only one of those things survives unscathed, and it's not the paperwork, unfortunately. Jinyoung kisses his weekend goodbye.
Ten minutes and a fortifying gulp of an energy drink later, he learns that the not-burglar's name is Jaebum, and is, from the pair of ears atop his head and the long, sleek tail curling around the leg of the stool he's perched on, an honest to god hybrid. Judging from the papers he comes with and the crumpled up certificate he sulkily hands over, Jaebum is a Very Expensive breed. Jinyoung is close to hyperventilating as he dials Mark's number with unsteady hands and demands, by way of greeting, "Please tell me you did not empty my bank account to buy me a cat boy."
Mark stays quiet for a long, measured moment. Jinyoung does not like pauses punctuated with denial, and neither does his blood pressure. He tries again. "Hyung, if you swiped my card and used it without my consent -"
"Not your bank account," is all Mark has to defend himself. Jinyoung closes his eyes. "And to be fair, I got him at the local shelter because his previous owner died, so…"
Fuck. The cat boy has a sob story. No wonder Mark caved in. "Don't you have anything better to do with your family's money?" Jinyoung wails. "Like, I don't know, charity?"
"You're a workaholic twenty something that doesn't leave your apartment except to buy food and visit your mother," Jackson pipes up, stealing the phone from Mark and sounding more pleased than anyone else, even Mark. "Losers like that are charity cases."
Jackson is Mark's hybrid, an excessively annoying dog that ruins the neighbors' garden and demands at least two circuits around Han River before he settles down long enough to focus. He's also part of the reason Jinyoung has an aversion to the idea of living with hybrid pets, and Mark has two of them, god.
Bambam's not as bad as Jackson, but is still prone to filling up prolonged silences with needless chatter, no doubt Jackson's influence. For a puppy, talkativeness is an adorable character trait, but once the yipping matures into a husky growl and the child-like innocence is traded with barbs about Jinyoung's non-existent sex life, it gets tiring pretty quickly. Not for the first time, Jinyoung wonders how on earth a guy as quiet as Mark could stand living with unbearably extroverted and opinionated hybrids.
"Give the phone back to Mark," Jinyoung commands, sternly.
Typically, Jackson doesn't listen. He never listens to anyone but Mark, and even that is subject to conditionality. "It's just sad that you waste that nice flat when you only go home to shower and change your clothes," Jackson goes on. "Can I just say, though, your room was so disgusting when we dropped Jaebum off, I don't know how anyone can survive the mess."
"You're more than welcome to clean up," says Jinyoung, sniffing.
"I value my life enough to not risk it," Jackson snipes back. "Also, Mark would miss me, you don't even know."
"Jackson, I swear to god I will ignore all laws against neutering and if you don't hand him the phone right now."
Jackson yelps, and Mark's quiet laughter comes into the line a few seconds later. "You really need to stop threatening Jackson, Jinyoungie."
"He implied I was a pathetic human being," says Jinyoung. "I'd punch him for it if I weren't scared he'd attack me and crush me under his weight."
"But you are pathetic," says Mark, his indifference doing more to wound Jinyoung's ego than Jackson's provocations. "How's Jaebum holding up?"
Jinyoung sneaks a glance at Jaebum, who has moved on to glaring at the TV in lieu of Jinyoung. Jinyoung isn't fooled for a second - Jaebum's ears are twitching in anticipation of something, and like hell is Jinyoung going to give him the satisfaction of watching Jinyoung lose his shit further.
"Just peachy," Jinyoung mutters, picking at a wayward strand of hair at his pants from when Jaebum had brushed his grey tail against the back of Jinyoung's knees when he'd stifled Jinyoung's screaming with a palm against his mouth and a hand braced behind the nearest wall he'd backed Jinyoung up against. What is it with hybrids and personal space? Alas, poor privacy, he knew it well. "But I can't make any promises for the rest of the week, hyung."
"You'll be fine," Mark assures him, having too much faith in people for all the wrong reasons.
"I really won't. I can't even take care of myself, how am I supposed to take care of a hybrid?"
"He's as tall as you are," says Mark. Despite the distance and the semblance of reason in his tone, Jinyoung can tell he's rolling his eyes. "And he's not a kitten anymore, so you don't have to worry about that."
"A kitten would have been a better cure to his loneliness," Jackson calls out, voice tinny and obnoxious even in the background. Jinyoung gnashes his teeth and scowls. "Jaebum is so far out of his league, Jinyoung's just gonna end up with blue balls."
"You think?" Mark asks, dubiously, likely turning away from the phone to shoot Jackson a judgmental look.
"Hey, it was that or a stripper," Jackson says. "I can't believe you guys veto-ed that idea."
"Please tell him to stop talking," Jinyoung begs.
"If he doesn't listen to me, what makes you think he'd listen to you?" Mark points out. Jinyoung, grudgingly, concedes by changing the subject.
"That still doesn't explain why I have another flatmate all of a sudden."
Mark sighs, and there's a brief sound of a scuffle, Bambam's yowling the only sign that Jackson has moved on to terrorizing other people. When Mark speaks again, Jinyoung is already mentally figuring out how refunds work. Surely there must be an exchange policy somewhere? "How many times have you gone home this week?"
The thing about Mark is that he likes to go around in circles even when he is probably the most direct person Jinyoung knows. It's with dawning horror that he realizes that any answer is not going to help him in any way or form, but it doesn't stop him from settling for the median.
"Four," Jinyoung lies. It's really only around two, tops. That still doesn't make it more justifiable for him to keep a pet, and he tells Mark as much.
"Hybrids don't really need anyone to look after them all the time," says Mark. "And besides, it'll at least motivate you to start sleeping in your room again instead of your desk when you know you have a living and breathing being inside your flat."
"If I end up with a dead body in my apartment…" Jinyoung cuts himself off with a sharp intake of breath, letting the threat hang.
"I'd be more worried about finding you dead in a ditch from overworking," says Mark, "but whatever. You'll be fine."
Maybe a stripper wouldn't have been so bad after all. "Hyung."
"It'll be good for you," Mark promises. "I promise you'll be happier in the end. Trust me."
Jinyoung highly doubts that. Jaebum is blatantly giving him a suspicious look by now, no doubt having heard everything with his too-sensitive ears. There's resignation in there, too, somewhere in Jaebum's refusal to make himself more comfortable in the couch, like he's waiting for something. Jinyoung's too tired to even muster the slightest hint of meanness he'd been so prepared to lean on only a few minutes earlier.
"I'm not lonely," Jinyoung declares, long after he's hung up and dumped the boxes of takeout into the garbage chute. The near-deafening echo of his words in the hallway does nothing to strengthen his resolve.
Jaebum doesn't even look up from the football game he's watching. He doesn't look too interested in the match, but it beats staring at the wall any day. "Of course you aren't."
"I'm not," Jinyoung insists.
From the unimpressed quirk of Jaebum's brow, he looks like he doesn't believe him at all.
Jinyoung doesn't know much about living arrangements with hybrids, but when Jaebum follows him to bed the first night, his incoherent spluttering doesn't merit attention from Jaebum, nor does the pointed nudge towards the guest room. Jaebum keeps finding increasingly creative ways to slink back to bed, and by eleven o'clock, Jinyoung finds himself out of it more than Jaebum, what with Jaebum using his dirty tricks to yank his ankle with his tail to drag him to the floor with him.
"I'm getting used to you," is Jaebum's stubborn insistence. He lifts up the comforter and pats the space beside him. His cocked eyebrow is challenging, almost. "Well?"
Jinyoung suffers through the strange feeling that nothing in his apartment is his anymore and cagily crawls under the covers, keeping a healthy foot away from Jaebum. It doesn't really work, because Jaebum's tail seems to curl curiously around Jinyoung's hip, like he can't control himself. Jaebum keeps nosing at his ear, as if familiarizing himself with Jinyoung's scent, and Jinyoung can feel goosebumps in its wake.
It's a fitful, restless night.
The worst part about sharing a double bed with Jaebum isn't Jinyoung's perennial paranoia that one of them would wake up with an ill-advised hard on and have to talk about these things -- he's had that excruciating experience with Jackson the first time Mark and Bambam came down with a flu. No, the worst part is that Jaebum is a bed hog that kicks in his sleep.
After the first few days of Jinyoung waking up on the floor after being pushed off his own bed by a snoring Jaebum, Jinyoung gets shackled with a last-minute project courtesy of a bedridden teammate and a boss with inflated expectations of his work ethic. On a normal day, Jinyoung would be more than pissed off about being the dumping ground of work, but he'd rather not wake up spread-eagle on the carpet for three days running.
Two nights later, Jinyoung gets a short, pointed call from Jaebum threatening to call PETA if he doesn't come home with food and catnip. A month's worth of it, or else.
"You're not allowed to do drugs," Jinyoung says, scandalized. A coworker's head shoots up from the other cubicle, alarmed.
"You're not allowed to abandon your poor hybrid," Jaebum snipes back, and hangs up.
Jinyoung stares at the phone and considers his options. One, he could ignore Jaebum and go back to work, but Jinyoung hasn't successfully managed to kill his conscience just yet. Two, he could whine at Mark to check up on Jaebum for him (forever), but Mark's stopped taking his calls ever since Jinyoung called him at dawn to complain about Jaebum's tendency to shove Jinyoung out of bed. Three, he could say 'fuck you' to his client and Jaebum and camp out in an empty board room to catch up on much-needed sleep.
It's only when he's turned off the lights and settled into a comfy chair with his feet propped up on the meeting room's table that he remembers that Jaebum still has his bed corralled and could probably shed all over his sheets in retaliation. He groans and fantasizes about a mad axe-murderer ending his plight instead.
"Hot date?" Youngjae asks, waggling his eyebrows as Jinyoung speeds past him, bag hastily slung over his shoulder and the first two buttons of his shirt in disarray.
"Starving cat," Jinyoung yells back, expression shuttered.
"You have a cat?" Youngjae says, incredulously. "Someone thought it was a good idea to let you take care of something?" He pauses and leaps to his feet in alarm. "Is it still alive or should I check for pet cemeteries by now?"
Youngjae has a point, because the last time Jinyoung took care of something, his cactus died. Jinyoung's not about to justify and potentially incriminate himself further, so raises a finger instead as he clocks out without managing to hit his face against the glass doors.
He gets home an hour later with two boxes of pizza, catnip, and a squeaky toy.
"I'm not a kid," Jaebum protests, horrified.
Jinyoung brandishes the rubber mouse, far too pleased at the way Jaebum is sinking into his seat. "I figured I needed to show how responsible I am by showering you with gifts and affection."
"For someone who wanted me out of the house from day one, I don't think that's the case," Jaebum says, sulking even as he bats away the toy. It squeaks mournfully as it lands on the hallway. He's totally a harmless kitten. Jinyoung wonders why he ever thought Jaebum would be a psycho axe-murderer prowling around his apartment.
He mutters something under his breath, probably maligning and demeaning at the same time. Jinyoung cranes his neck to listen, but Jaebum waves him away and demands to be fed.
"I get that you've got pedigree or whatever, but we have got to talk about your attitude," Jinyoung complains.
"I'm not the flaky human with passive aggressive tendencies," says Jaebum, warily, clearly not over the rubber mouse. Jinyoung sighs and lifts his eyes to the ceiling, as if it will give him all the answers that a quick Google search can't.
"Are hybrid cats contractually obligated to be jerks?" He asks.
"Aren't you contractually obligated to take care of me?" Jaebum reminds him.
Jinyoung scowls and flicks a mushroom at him. "Eat your damn pizza."
For all of their initial arguing, Jinyoung senses that Jaebum is only taking out his frustrations on the nearest target, and it must suck to not have anyone to rant to the way Jinyoung can to Mark. The thought that Jaebum really only has him is depressing, and he ends up letting Jaebum steal the pepperoni off his pizza if only to stave off the guilt.
It's not like Jaebum has as much of a choice in this as Jinyoung. He wonders how it must have felt, that first night, to come home to an empty apartment for the first time and wait for a stranger to arrive, only to realize that he isn't wanted or needed. The uncertainty of a hybrid's life is the only certain thing in their world, and Jinyoung's heard of more bad stories than good ones.
It's a sobering thought.
Jinyoung tries to distract himself from the inevitable spiral of guilt and anxiety by reading, and Jaebum disappears somewhere. Half an hour later, Jinyoung is jolted out of The Little Prince by Jaebum plastering himself to Jinyoung, smelling of catnip and tomato sauce and, faintly, of Jinyoung's laundry detergent. He's not sure what to do with a doped-up hybrid, but he forces himself to relax and settles for awkwardly petting Jaebum's hair.
Jaebum remains motionless long enough that Jinyoung almost thinks he's fallen asleep, except Jaebum's ears keep flicking with each brush of Jinyoung's knuckles against the soft inner lining of flesh. "Don't leave me alone for too long," Jaebum says, voice muffled against Jinyoung's hip.
Jinyoung tenses, stricken, but Jaebum's soft whimpering tapers off into snoring. Jaebum's just guaranteed him a long and sleepless battle, sleep-induced noise aside. The guilt demons gnaw at him for the rest of the night.
Being responsible really sucks.
It's not bad, really. Not long after the initially terse first night (more like week, but details aren't that important to Jinyoung), he and Jaebum settle into a slightly less uneasy coexistence.
It helps that Jaebum spends most of his daylight hours dozing on Jinyoung's bed, and Jinyoung tries to spend more hours in his apartment. Jaebum, for all his prickliness the first day, adapts fairly quickly, and doesn't complain much when Jinyoung stumbles into the hallway at six am to dump his overnight bag on the couch and find a tie that doesn't horribly clash with the blazer he leaves in the office.
It's probably because Jinyoung looks like hell is warming over that Jaebum doesn't comment as much, and for a while Jinyoung thinks that this is how the rest of his days with a cat boy at home would look like - awkward strangers forced to put up with each other until one of them winds up on a ditch or runs away. All bets point to Jinyoung being the sacrificial lamb; Jaebum is way too attached with his mattress to give it up.
They have a system now, though: Jaebum wakes him up with his tail flicking at Jinyoung's ears, and because Jinyoung sleeps like the dead, really wakes him up by yanking on his foot and dragging him off the bed, out of the room, and into the shower. Jaebum is honestly doing wonders for Jinyoung's attendance record at work, but Jinyoung doesn't think that this is what Mark had in mind when he'd said Jaebum would be good for him.
None of them can even cook, but at least Jaebum is a little more organized than he is. Then again, anyone is better than Jinyoung at domesticity, if the perennial state of clutter surrounding his bed is a sign of it. He hasn't seen his floor in months. Maybe getting Jaebum isn't such a bad idea.
"You're disgusting," Jaebum informs him, unimpressed. He's pinching the hood of an unwashed jacket in between his thumb and forefinger, looking like he'd rather burn it than let it go through the wash. It's taken him only a few days to crack and give in to the temptation of cleaning up, mostly because he's likely resigned himself to the fact that his human is a slob. "When did you last do your laundry again?"
Jinyoung doesn't bother answering that, because that would mean admitting to Jaebum that he honestly still does not know how to operate the washing machine beyond pressing random buttons and waiting for the sound of water guzzling into the machine. "If my sisters could see you now," says Jinyoung, contemplating a piece of bacon instead, "they would stop calling me a nag."
"Worse than Jackson," Jaebum says, if only because he knows how much Jinyoung hates that. Jaebum is unfailingly fond of Jackson, mostly because Jackson annoys Jinyoung and Jaebum is secretly a playground bully.
Whatever. Jinyoung may be too lazy to pick up after himself, but he knows Jaebum is equally slothful in different ways. He's perennially allergic to the concept of work, considering that he hides in the bathroom whenever Jinyoung begs him over the phone to send him a few files he left at home. Either that or he's sulking; both seem highly plausible.
"How are you only sweet to me once a month?" Jinyoung mourns. Jaebum stiffens and turns to march out of the room with an armful of clothes, head held high despite his flushed cheeks.
"Let's not talk about this again," Jaebum calls out, a thinly veiled threat. It doesn't really instill fear in Jinyoung, but it's cute that Jaebum tries.
"Yeah," says Jinyoung, muffling his laughter behind his chopsticks. "Good talk."
Once a month, Jaebum locks himself inside Jinyoung's room for at least two days, feverish and sweating as he attempts to become one with Jinyoung's comforter. The first time Jinyoung had seen him, he'd panicked and almost called for an ambulance until Jaebum had growled and pinned his wrists to the table, only to back away in a comically horrified manner at Jinyoung's surprised and pained whimper.
It's the only time Jaebum's remotely resorted to aggression outside of their verbal sparring, and the shock of it had caused Jinyoung to reassess his life choices via a quick phone call to Mark. Mark had been reassuring and even concerned - had offered to take Jaebum out of his hands, even - but at the sight of Jaebum prowling around the hallway, antsy and unsettled, Jinyoung had said no.
Neither of them really likes talking about that time of the month now, but Jaebum always makes it a point to be extra careful around him after those episodes. For, like, 48 hours, tops, before he goes back to nagging at Jinyoung to pick up that damn shirt off the stool and stop leaving empty mugs on the table, god, it's like living with a five year old. The comparison isn't really fair, and Jinyoung should know. He has an arsenal of nieces and nephews to show off as evidence.
"You mean you really don't know?" Is all Yugyeom has to say to mock him, like Jinyoung hadn't poured out his worries and frustrations about his hybrid maybe-possibly-definitely wasting away from some illness.
Yugyeom is Jinyoung and Mark's bratty underclassman-turned-client when he'd gone into a multinational pharmaceutical company as a management trainee and bulldozed his way through his competition with the ice-cold ambition Jinyoung would be prouder of if he doesn't experience the brunt of it every time Yugyeom commissions a project. Yugyeom is also a handy excuse to use company funds in the guise of client meetings, which this technically is, never mind that they only make the token five-minute effort of trading updates and spend the rest of the time catching up on industry gossip and Jinyoung's sad state of affairs.
What if Jaebum's immune system is virtually non-existent from too much complicated family in-breeding? What if he needs surgery? Oh god, Jinyoung should be getting insurance by now.
As if reading the drastic turn of Jinyoung's thoughts, Yugyeom rolls his eyes and decides to end his suffering. "He's not dying, hyung."
Yugyeom knows jack shit, but Jinyoung will take all the consolation he can get. He loosens his chokehold on his cup of coffee and takes a deep breath.
"Spell it out for me, why don't you?" Jinyoung grunts, now intent on spreading the butter on his complimentary piece of breakfast toast so that he doesn't have to notice Yugyeom's expression. He doesn't need to look to know when he's being judged.
"But where would the fun in that be? I kinda like seeing you struggle like this," Yugyeom says with fake sweetness. "Is your cat boy hot?"
Jinyoung almost drops his butter knife. "What does that have to do with it?"
Yugyeom waves at him impatiently, pretending to examine a non-existent chip on his plate. "Just answer the question."
"He's," Jinyoung hesitates, pointedly not thinking about Jaebum's narrow shoulders or his toned arms when he lazily stretches under a spot of sunlight, because he's not a hormonal fifteen year old and that would be weird. "He's not… unattractive."
Yugyeom stares at him.
He makes a face. "He's okay."
"Coming from you, that's a definite yes," says Yugyeom, whistling under his breath. He smiles, clearly up to no good. "Just for that, I'd rather you find out for yourself."
"You say that like Google doesn't exist," says Jinyoung, testily. The butter is lopsided now. Yugyeom is an asshole for distracting him.
"I know how lazy you are outside of school and work," says Yugyeom. "Trust me, you're gonna forget about this the minute you have an Excel sheet open."
Jinyoung puts off "research" because he really does forget about it (ha ha ha, whatever, Kim Yugyeom); he only really remembers Jaebum's tetchy off-days when the door is shut tight and keeps him firmly locked out. It's almost routine to pull out a spare comforter the barely-used linen closet and drape it over the couch.
In retrospect, he should probably count himself lucky that it's already the end of the cycle when certain members of his immediate family feel the need to barge into his home unannounced.
Jinyoung hasn't really had the chance to even think about introducing Jaebum to his family despite the way Jaebum's carved himself into a permanent fixture on Jinyoung's couch. It's partly out of laziness and a tendency to avoid his family unless he really needs something urgently (Jinyoung is deathly allergic to phones, a result of being plagued by uncooperative clients at god-awful hours in the evening).
Partly it's because his sisters are really nosy shits. The eldest one proves exactly how much Jinyoung doesn't trust them to leave him alone until she breaks into his flat one rainy Sunday morning with a pair of soggy shoes in one hand and her three year old son in the other.
"Jireongie, why is your doorway full of so much sh- eep," she says, cutting herself off mid-curse. Jaebum freezes in the middle of the living room, hand caught mid-scratch at his bare abdomen. Jinyoung's nephew, Chunji, makes a happy gurgle at the sight of Jaebum's swishing tail.
"Kitty!" Chunji yells, making grabby hands at Jaebum. Jinyoung drops the remote control on the couch and comes to his feet. The TV blares out outraged yelling from Hell's Kitchen in the background, but it's drowned out by Chunji's plaintive wailing.
"Noona," Jinyoung squeaks out, widening his eyes at her, "learn to knock, please."
"You were taking too long," she says defensively, still shooting bemused looks at Jaebum and Jinyoung. Jaebum finally has the presence of mind to pull a shirt over his head, but it's too late - Jinyoung can already hear the gears turning in his sister's head. "Are you hiding from people again?"
To be fair, Jinyoung was busy taking a power nap after leafing through a hundred slides for his Monday pitch, and Jaebum hates answering the door in principle so they were both banking on the off-chance that their weekend invader would just be a door-to-door salesman. It could be worse, Jinyoung consoles himself. It could have been his mother.
Still, he should really make the token effort to be indignant, even if he does cross the room to press a kiss to her cheek. "I didn’t even give you a key!"
"Please," she snorts, dropping her shoes to the carpeted floor, "you're dumb if you think mom hasn't made copies of your keycard yet and given it to everyone so we could check if you're still alive."
"I think I'll go back to bed and let you two sort this out," Jaebum mutters. He sounds a little distant and far off, like he's closing in on himself and retreating to silence.
Not quietly enough, though, because Jinyoung's sister catches it and makes yet another face that speaks volumes of judgment. Back to bed, huh? She mouths over the top of Chunji's head.
Grow up, he mouths back, making a face.
"Wanna pet kitty," Chunji repeats himself, mournfully this time. Jaebum's ears twitch, and he looks like he can't decide whether to retreat to his room or stay. Jinyoung's sister makes the choice for him by putting a fussy Chunji down, and Chunji shoots off to Jaebum's direction, waddling and clinging onto his leg to make puppy eyes at him until Jaebum gives in and picks him up.
Apparently his sister has no preservation instincts when it comes to her own children, because she lets Jaebum heft Chunji up into his arms and bend his head to let Chunji touch the tip of his ears. The sight of Chunji stroking Jaebum's hair affectionately sets something in Jinyoung off, and he has to suppress the bubble of laughter in his chest at Jaebum's long-suffering expression.
"Is this your crazy Saturday hookup?" His sister whispers conspiratorially, nudging his shoulder. "I didn't know you were into that."
She may as well have been pointing at Jaebum's less-than-human parts with a neon sign, the definition of subtlety and grace. Jaebum, thankfully, doesn't let on that he can hear her loud and clear, but his smile seems to strain slightly. The smile turns into a pained yowl when Chunji tugs a little too roughly for comfort.
"Oh for the love of -" Jinyoung inhales and rubs his eyes. "Noona, this is Jaebum. Jaebum, this is one of my many annoying older sisters, so you don't really need to remember them."
She smacks him upside the head, and Jinyoung winces under her touch. It doesn't really hurt much, but he pretends it does, anyway, just so he could guilt trip her later.
"Please ignore my brother," she says, cheerfully, "we haven't managed to make him a respectable person yet, as you can see."
"Huh," is all Jaebum has to say.
Jinyoung steers her out of the living room and into the kitchen before she can arm Jaebum with horror stories from childhood as ammunition. Jaebum watches over Chunji in the living room, relegated to unofficial babysitting duties as Jinyoung and his sister make hot chocolate and catch up on family gossip while waiting for the rain to let up.
"If I'd known you'd suddenly gotten a cat boy, I would have visited sooner," she says, peering at him carefully over her mug. "The last time you got a pet, it died before the year was over."
"In my defense, I was seven and didn't know that rabbits were easy prey outside the house," he retorts. "Jaebum's a fully-functioning hybrid and I don't think anything would be eating him up any time soon."
"Are you sure about that?" The smirk she sends his way is nothing short of filthy. He makes a mental note to bleach his brain with soap. "Because I've heard rumors about these hybrids, you know. Or maybe it's not him who should be worried about getting eaten, huh?"
"If you're going to make dirty jokes, please don't do it in my presence, ever," he says, pained.
"You're not five, Jireongie," she coos, touching his cheek fondly. He bats her hand away, groaning.
"Sometimes I wish I were."
"You'll always be a toddler in my eyes," she assures him, "tantrums and all."
"Are you sure you're not thinking about your own kid?" He challenges.
"Please, Chunji is like a mini-you," she snorts. "Mom sometimes wonders if she didn't accidentally give birth to you again every time she looks after Chunji."
He thinks of protesting at that, but he gets distracted by the sound of Jaebum's playful fake-growling and Chunji's shrieks of laughter in the other room. He doesn't need to peer at Jaebum to know that he's likely on all fours by now, prowling and pretending to hunt Chunji down in a game of hide-and-seek. His sister makes a soft, understanding sound, and he ducks his head to hide his embarrassed grin.
"He's good with kids," she comments idly, setting her empty mug on her lap and cupping the base with her palms.
"Yeah, he's -" He starts, then offers, lamely, "He's good at a lot of things."
"You really lucked out on this one, huh?" She cracks a smile at him, eyes slit into crescents from the force of it. "Chunji's already half in love with him."
"You're going to have to pry Chunji off him later," says Jinyoung. "I don't wanna sit in to watch the waterworks, okay?"
"We could always take him off your hands if it comes down to it," his sister teases.
The thought of it makes him tense, and suddenly he remembers Mark's offer, weeks ago. It's disquieting, thinking about parting ways with Jaebum now. This is probably how excessively dependent pet owners feel all the time, and it's not a road Jinyoung wants to travel but he'd rather not have the alternative absence of Jaebum in his life.
"No way," he says, shrugging off the thought. He gets up to take her mug from her and dumps it on the sink. "You and your spawn will drive him crazy by the end of the week."
Even with his back turned to her, he can feel her rolling her eyes at him. "He probably won't agree anyway," she scoffs, voice loud even through the noise of water gushing out of the faucet as he rinses the mugs clean. "Not with how he looks at you."
He stops scrubbing at a particularly stubborn spot of chocolate sticking to the base of the mug. "What do you mean?"
She looks at him like she can't understand how dumb he is, which is, like, her default face 70% of the time after he hit the age of twelve and started locking himself in his room and complaining about privacy. "Jinyoung, he didn't stop glaring at me until you told him I was your sister," she says slowly. "I'm pretty sure that's how my own husband looks at all of my ex-boyfriends on Facebook."
He shoots her a doubtful look, and she shrugs helplessly, tucking her hair behind her ear. "He thought you were a stranger breaking into our flat," he argues, setting the mug down on the rack to dry. "Somehow, I highly doubt he had the presence of mind to even think you were anything but a robber."
"Hey, if you don't believe me, then suit yourself." She holds up her manicured hands in defeat. "Don't say I didn't warn you when you end up married to your hybrid three years down the line."
"That's crazy," he says. "You're crazy."
"I'll believe you when you stop making heart eyes back at him," she crows. She makes a heart sign with her hands, as if to rile him up. Given how his skin feels like it's crawling in irritation, it's working. "I know you have a thing for dudes that can take care of kids, so don't even think about lying your way out of this."
Jinyoung makes a frustrated noise at the back of his throat and busies himself with rummaging for milk from the fridge. Chunji and Jaebum are probably tired by now, and while he can't offer them a plate of soft batch cookies, this will have to do. His sister doesn't need a refill, and she's definitely not getting one after picking on him so much. She can get it herself.
He sets two glasses on a tray and studiously ignores his sister as he makes his way out. Contrary to her actual age, she giggles and kicks her feet out, nudging his knee and almost knocking him down in the process.
"It's cute that you think you're right, but noona always knows best," she says, cheeky as ever. "I hope you know thiis is a no-judgment zone and I accept you for all your kinks."
"I hate you so much," he says, flatly.
Her eyes twinkle with barely concealed amusement. "As long as you promise you'll invite me to the wedding, okay?"
He gets irate phone calls from his mother and his other sister that night, no doubt after getting a report of Jinyoung's non-existent future nuptials. The worst part about it isn't how his middle sister pesters him into sending pictures of how hot this Jaebum is, unnie was practically salivating, Jinyoung, nor is it how his mother sobs on the phone about how she never gets to hear from him anymore and now she's the last to know about his love affair with a hybrid, how could you, Jireongie, I didn't raise you to breed in sin and out of wedlock!
The absolutely miserable and excruciating icing on the cake is when his mother passes the phone to his father and they trade an awkward hi - hello - how are you - I'm sorry about your mother - it's fine, she's - by the way are you using condoms - wait, what?
"Hear me out, Jinyoung," his father says, levelly, a stark contrast to how Jinyoung is having heart palpitations. His family is never good for his mental health or his blood pressure, and he's only in his twenties. "I know you're a smart boy, and you might have gotten tested before the heats started coming, but it's a very serious matter to always use protection. You never know when you might need to keep yourself safe."
Jinyoung makes an unhappy gurgle at the back of his throat. Jaebum, blessedly asleep and ignorant of the ongoing conversation, snuffles and tucks his head into Jinyoung's nape. Like this, with his tail under the comforter and the top of his head hidden from Jinyoung's view, he looks almost human. Except he isn't; he isn't.
"We are not talking about this," he whispers.
"I trust you, Jinyoung-ah," his father says, and Jinyoung would feel more touched any other day except nope, not happening, he is not about to get round 2 of the sex talk he's never wanted to have.
He hangs up and turns to his side, muffling his angry yelling into a pillow. Behind him, Jaebum blissfully snores on, still draped all over Jinyoung like a suffocating blanket. One of these days they should talk about personal space and boundaries in the bedroom, but he's too traumatized to care.
He really, really hates phone calls from his family.
"I heard you had a mental breakdown over Jaebum last week," is the first thing Bambam tells him that Saturday when they meet up at the park. Jaebum, Mark and Jackson are kicking a football around with a group of high school kids, something Jinyoung's opted out of once he'd seen the ominous rainclouds in the distance.
Bambam, ostensibly, is keeping him company under the shade of a tree, but, really, he's only with Jinyoung to terrorize him.
"Jaebum is a filthy liar," Jinyoung says, not looking up from the pocketbook he's reading. He grunts when Bambam rearranges his limbs so he can rest his head on his lap. By nature, Bambam acts like he's starved for touch half the time, but catch him in the presence of strangers - noonas, especially - he pretends he's too cool for displays of affection. Apparently the judgment of prepubescent teenagers doesn't merit that. Mark should really talk to Bambam about this instead of letting his hybrids roam with barely a thought for social conventions.
"It was actually your sister," says Bambam, preening.
"Also a filthy liar." Jinyoung narrows his eyes and lowers the book from his line of sight to stare suspiciously at Bambam. "Which one?"
Bambam ignores him and just laughs. "I was kinda thinking you have breakdowns regardless of Jaebum's involvement," says Bambam, impudence bordering on disrespect - yet another thing Mark should probably train him out of. Fucking Jackson. "But this is more amusing than any sitcom or drama."
Jinyoung bops him on the head, and feels only marginally guilty at Bambam's pained whine. "Shouldn't you be calling him hyung?"
"I've had an owner longer, so technically I'm his senior," Bambam boasts, ears twitching slightly in irritation. Unconsciously, Jinyoung strokes at the space between his ears, tousling his dyed hair in the process. Bambam would balk at it later when they pass by a mirror, but for now, he seems to sink into Jinyoung's touch, boneless.
From far away, Jaebum seems to stiffen at the sound of Bambam's pleased purring. He turns to look at them with an unreadable look on his face.
"This is why Jaebum doesn't like hanging out with you," says Jinyoung, clicking his tongue.
"Nah, he doesn't like me because he feels threatened," says Bambam, shuffling closer to Jinyoung and nudging at his fingers in silent command to keep petting me, human. He points at Jaebum with his thumb, waggling his eyebrows even as Jaebum's unsettled expression deepens into a glower. "He's just jealous I'm close to you, hyung."
"Funny you should say that," Jinyoung grunts out, because Bambam is too close, scrambling to his knees and parking himself on Jinyoung's lap. It's something he's done since he was a kid, but it's stopped being cute and become more of a bother since his growth spurt. "Get off. Did you gain weight again?"
"You're not being convincing when you look like you just spat out a hairball," Bambam whines, nails digging into Jinyoung's hip. He widens his eyes and pouts. "Smile and wave, hyung!"
Jinyoung helplessly obeys, and for a brief moment Jaebum looks extremely conflicted, like he doesn't know if he should set aside his irritation or indulge Jinyoung. He lets out a grunt of pain when Jackson sends a football to his back.
"Get your head in the game, man!" Jackson calls out, pissed. Jaebum stalks over to him and Jinyoung closes his eyes at the prospect of an incoming fight breaking out.
"See?" Bambam says, sounding inordinately thrilled. "I'm a genius."
"You're delusional, that's what you are," Jinyoung informs him. He goes back to reading and resolves to focus lest he ends up getting caught in yet another of Bambam's ill-advised schemes.
"Genius," Bambam crows.
Mark ends up kicking Jaebum and Jackson out of the game for unruly behavior. Jackson sulks and circles around the park, walking off his annoyance, while Jaebum settles for plopping down in between Bambam and Jinyoung, shoving Bambam out of the way when Bambam tries to cross over and use Jinyoung as a human pillow.
"That's not fair," Bambam wails. "I was here first!"
"Go bother your human, not mine," says Jaebum. He keeps his tone light even as he checks his nails and kicks at Bambam's transgressing fingers.
"Whatever," says Bambam, sneering as he stands up. "I know when I'm not wanted. I can read the mood."
"Bye Bambam," says Jinyoung, absently turning a page.
He doesn't catch the triumphant smirk Jaebum shoots at Bambam, but he does hear Bambam's miffed noises. Jaebum's tail curls around Jinyoung's waist, loose enough not to be uncomfortable but a protective cradle all the same. Jinyoung sets his hand down on Jaebum's thigh in response and pets him even through the heat emanating from his shorts and the rapidly cooling sweat of his skin. Jaebum exhales, a soft, winded grunt, and he presses closer to nudge at Jinyoung's cheek with his nose.
"Disgusting," Bambam insists, and goes off to bother Jackson instead.
part one | two
Recipient: minchievous
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 14k
Warnings: badly written porn and other associated warnings with catboy AUs
Summary: In retrospect, maybe a stripper would have been a better alternative to getting a hybrid as a pet.
part one | two
When Jinyoung enters his apartment that Thursday evening and spies a body curled up on the couch and a tuft of black hair poking out from under a blanket, the first thing he does is call Mark.
Well, no, not exactly ? he may or may not have screamed and dropped the takeout noodles in his hand and his laptop bag in the other, watching with horror as the lump on the couch tensed up and hissed as it hid under the nearest coffee table, knocking over a stack of documents, a small pile of unread magazines, and an ugly ceramic poodle from Youngjae in the process. Only one of those things survives unscathed, and it's not the paperwork, unfortunately. Jinyoung kisses his weekend goodbye.
Ten minutes and a fortifying gulp of an energy drink later, he learns that the not-burglar's name is Jaebum, and is, from the pair of ears atop his head and the long, sleek tail curling around the leg of the stool he's perched on, an honest to god hybrid. Judging from the papers he comes with and the crumpled up certificate he sulkily hands over, Jaebum is a Very Expensive breed. Jinyoung is close to hyperventilating as he dials Mark's number with unsteady hands and demands, by way of greeting, "Please tell me you did not empty my bank account to buy me a cat boy."
Mark stays quiet for a long, measured moment. Jinyoung does not like pauses punctuated with denial, and neither does his blood pressure. He tries again. "Hyung, if you swiped my card and used it without my consent -"
"Not your bank account," is all Mark has to defend himself. Jinyoung closes his eyes. "And to be fair, I got him at the local shelter because his previous owner died, so…"
Fuck. The cat boy has a sob story. No wonder Mark caved in. "Don't you have anything better to do with your family's money?" Jinyoung wails. "Like, I don't know, charity?"
"You're a workaholic twenty something that doesn't leave your apartment except to buy food and visit your mother," Jackson pipes up, stealing the phone from Mark and sounding more pleased than anyone else, even Mark. "Losers like that are charity cases."
Jackson is Mark's hybrid, an excessively annoying dog that ruins the neighbors' garden and demands at least two circuits around Han River before he settles down long enough to focus. He's also part of the reason Jinyoung has an aversion to the idea of living with hybrid pets, and Mark has two of them, god.
Bambam's not as bad as Jackson, but is still prone to filling up prolonged silences with needless chatter, no doubt Jackson's influence. For a puppy, talkativeness is an adorable character trait, but once the yipping matures into a husky growl and the child-like innocence is traded with barbs about Jinyoung's non-existent sex life, it gets tiring pretty quickly. Not for the first time, Jinyoung wonders how on earth a guy as quiet as Mark could stand living with unbearably extroverted and opinionated hybrids.
"Give the phone back to Mark," Jinyoung commands, sternly.
Typically, Jackson doesn't listen. He never listens to anyone but Mark, and even that is subject to conditionality. "It's just sad that you waste that nice flat when you only go home to shower and change your clothes," Jackson goes on. "Can I just say, though, your room was so disgusting when we dropped Jaebum off, I don't know how anyone can survive the mess."
"You're more than welcome to clean up," says Jinyoung, sniffing.
"I value my life enough to not risk it," Jackson snipes back. "Also, Mark would miss me, you don't even know."
"Jackson, I swear to god I will ignore all laws against neutering and if you don't hand him the phone right now."
Jackson yelps, and Mark's quiet laughter comes into the line a few seconds later. "You really need to stop threatening Jackson, Jinyoungie."
"He implied I was a pathetic human being," says Jinyoung. "I'd punch him for it if I weren't scared he'd attack me and crush me under his weight."
"But you are pathetic," says Mark, his indifference doing more to wound Jinyoung's ego than Jackson's provocations. "How's Jaebum holding up?"
Jinyoung sneaks a glance at Jaebum, who has moved on to glaring at the TV in lieu of Jinyoung. Jinyoung isn't fooled for a second - Jaebum's ears are twitching in anticipation of something, and like hell is Jinyoung going to give him the satisfaction of watching Jinyoung lose his shit further.
"Just peachy," Jinyoung mutters, picking at a wayward strand of hair at his pants from when Jaebum had brushed his grey tail against the back of Jinyoung's knees when he'd stifled Jinyoung's screaming with a palm against his mouth and a hand braced behind the nearest wall he'd backed Jinyoung up against. What is it with hybrids and personal space? Alas, poor privacy, he knew it well. "But I can't make any promises for the rest of the week, hyung."
"You'll be fine," Mark assures him, having too much faith in people for all the wrong reasons.
"I really won't. I can't even take care of myself, how am I supposed to take care of a hybrid?"
"He's as tall as you are," says Mark. Despite the distance and the semblance of reason in his tone, Jinyoung can tell he's rolling his eyes. "And he's not a kitten anymore, so you don't have to worry about that."
"A kitten would have been a better cure to his loneliness," Jackson calls out, voice tinny and obnoxious even in the background. Jinyoung gnashes his teeth and scowls. "Jaebum is so far out of his league, Jinyoung's just gonna end up with blue balls."
"You think?" Mark asks, dubiously, likely turning away from the phone to shoot Jackson a judgmental look.
"Hey, it was that or a stripper," Jackson says. "I can't believe you guys veto-ed that idea."
"Please tell him to stop talking," Jinyoung begs.
"If he doesn't listen to me, what makes you think he'd listen to you?" Mark points out. Jinyoung, grudgingly, concedes by changing the subject.
"That still doesn't explain why I have another flatmate all of a sudden."
Mark sighs, and there's a brief sound of a scuffle, Bambam's yowling the only sign that Jackson has moved on to terrorizing other people. When Mark speaks again, Jinyoung is already mentally figuring out how refunds work. Surely there must be an exchange policy somewhere? "How many times have you gone home this week?"
The thing about Mark is that he likes to go around in circles even when he is probably the most direct person Jinyoung knows. It's with dawning horror that he realizes that any answer is not going to help him in any way or form, but it doesn't stop him from settling for the median.
"Four," Jinyoung lies. It's really only around two, tops. That still doesn't make it more justifiable for him to keep a pet, and he tells Mark as much.
"Hybrids don't really need anyone to look after them all the time," says Mark. "And besides, it'll at least motivate you to start sleeping in your room again instead of your desk when you know you have a living and breathing being inside your flat."
"If I end up with a dead body in my apartment…" Jinyoung cuts himself off with a sharp intake of breath, letting the threat hang.
"I'd be more worried about finding you dead in a ditch from overworking," says Mark, "but whatever. You'll be fine."
Maybe a stripper wouldn't have been so bad after all. "Hyung."
"It'll be good for you," Mark promises. "I promise you'll be happier in the end. Trust me."
Jinyoung highly doubts that. Jaebum is blatantly giving him a suspicious look by now, no doubt having heard everything with his too-sensitive ears. There's resignation in there, too, somewhere in Jaebum's refusal to make himself more comfortable in the couch, like he's waiting for something. Jinyoung's too tired to even muster the slightest hint of meanness he'd been so prepared to lean on only a few minutes earlier.
"I'm not lonely," Jinyoung declares, long after he's hung up and dumped the boxes of takeout into the garbage chute. The near-deafening echo of his words in the hallway does nothing to strengthen his resolve.
Jaebum doesn't even look up from the football game he's watching. He doesn't look too interested in the match, but it beats staring at the wall any day. "Of course you aren't."
"I'm not," Jinyoung insists.
From the unimpressed quirk of Jaebum's brow, he looks like he doesn't believe him at all.
Jinyoung doesn't know much about living arrangements with hybrids, but when Jaebum follows him to bed the first night, his incoherent spluttering doesn't merit attention from Jaebum, nor does the pointed nudge towards the guest room. Jaebum keeps finding increasingly creative ways to slink back to bed, and by eleven o'clock, Jinyoung finds himself out of it more than Jaebum, what with Jaebum using his dirty tricks to yank his ankle with his tail to drag him to the floor with him.
"I'm getting used to you," is Jaebum's stubborn insistence. He lifts up the comforter and pats the space beside him. His cocked eyebrow is challenging, almost. "Well?"
Jinyoung suffers through the strange feeling that nothing in his apartment is his anymore and cagily crawls under the covers, keeping a healthy foot away from Jaebum. It doesn't really work, because Jaebum's tail seems to curl curiously around Jinyoung's hip, like he can't control himself. Jaebum keeps nosing at his ear, as if familiarizing himself with Jinyoung's scent, and Jinyoung can feel goosebumps in its wake.
It's a fitful, restless night.
The worst part about sharing a double bed with Jaebum isn't Jinyoung's perennial paranoia that one of them would wake up with an ill-advised hard on and have to talk about these things -- he's had that excruciating experience with Jackson the first time Mark and Bambam came down with a flu. No, the worst part is that Jaebum is a bed hog that kicks in his sleep.
After the first few days of Jinyoung waking up on the floor after being pushed off his own bed by a snoring Jaebum, Jinyoung gets shackled with a last-minute project courtesy of a bedridden teammate and a boss with inflated expectations of his work ethic. On a normal day, Jinyoung would be more than pissed off about being the dumping ground of work, but he'd rather not wake up spread-eagle on the carpet for three days running.
Two nights later, Jinyoung gets a short, pointed call from Jaebum threatening to call PETA if he doesn't come home with food and catnip. A month's worth of it, or else.
"You're not allowed to do drugs," Jinyoung says, scandalized. A coworker's head shoots up from the other cubicle, alarmed.
"You're not allowed to abandon your poor hybrid," Jaebum snipes back, and hangs up.
Jinyoung stares at the phone and considers his options. One, he could ignore Jaebum and go back to work, but Jinyoung hasn't successfully managed to kill his conscience just yet. Two, he could whine at Mark to check up on Jaebum for him (forever), but Mark's stopped taking his calls ever since Jinyoung called him at dawn to complain about Jaebum's tendency to shove Jinyoung out of bed. Three, he could say 'fuck you' to his client and Jaebum and camp out in an empty board room to catch up on much-needed sleep.
It's only when he's turned off the lights and settled into a comfy chair with his feet propped up on the meeting room's table that he remembers that Jaebum still has his bed corralled and could probably shed all over his sheets in retaliation. He groans and fantasizes about a mad axe-murderer ending his plight instead.
"Hot date?" Youngjae asks, waggling his eyebrows as Jinyoung speeds past him, bag hastily slung over his shoulder and the first two buttons of his shirt in disarray.
"Starving cat," Jinyoung yells back, expression shuttered.
"You have a cat?" Youngjae says, incredulously. "Someone thought it was a good idea to let you take care of something?" He pauses and leaps to his feet in alarm. "Is it still alive or should I check for pet cemeteries by now?"
Youngjae has a point, because the last time Jinyoung took care of something, his cactus died. Jinyoung's not about to justify and potentially incriminate himself further, so raises a finger instead as he clocks out without managing to hit his face against the glass doors.
He gets home an hour later with two boxes of pizza, catnip, and a squeaky toy.
"I'm not a kid," Jaebum protests, horrified.
Jinyoung brandishes the rubber mouse, far too pleased at the way Jaebum is sinking into his seat. "I figured I needed to show how responsible I am by showering you with gifts and affection."
"For someone who wanted me out of the house from day one, I don't think that's the case," Jaebum says, sulking even as he bats away the toy. It squeaks mournfully as it lands on the hallway. He's totally a harmless kitten. Jinyoung wonders why he ever thought Jaebum would be a psycho axe-murderer prowling around his apartment.
He mutters something under his breath, probably maligning and demeaning at the same time. Jinyoung cranes his neck to listen, but Jaebum waves him away and demands to be fed.
"I get that you've got pedigree or whatever, but we have got to talk about your attitude," Jinyoung complains.
"I'm not the flaky human with passive aggressive tendencies," says Jaebum, warily, clearly not over the rubber mouse. Jinyoung sighs and lifts his eyes to the ceiling, as if it will give him all the answers that a quick Google search can't.
"Are hybrid cats contractually obligated to be jerks?" He asks.
"Aren't you contractually obligated to take care of me?" Jaebum reminds him.
Jinyoung scowls and flicks a mushroom at him. "Eat your damn pizza."
For all of their initial arguing, Jinyoung senses that Jaebum is only taking out his frustrations on the nearest target, and it must suck to not have anyone to rant to the way Jinyoung can to Mark. The thought that Jaebum really only has him is depressing, and he ends up letting Jaebum steal the pepperoni off his pizza if only to stave off the guilt.
It's not like Jaebum has as much of a choice in this as Jinyoung. He wonders how it must have felt, that first night, to come home to an empty apartment for the first time and wait for a stranger to arrive, only to realize that he isn't wanted or needed. The uncertainty of a hybrid's life is the only certain thing in their world, and Jinyoung's heard of more bad stories than good ones.
It's a sobering thought.
Jinyoung tries to distract himself from the inevitable spiral of guilt and anxiety by reading, and Jaebum disappears somewhere. Half an hour later, Jinyoung is jolted out of The Little Prince by Jaebum plastering himself to Jinyoung, smelling of catnip and tomato sauce and, faintly, of Jinyoung's laundry detergent. He's not sure what to do with a doped-up hybrid, but he forces himself to relax and settles for awkwardly petting Jaebum's hair.
Jaebum remains motionless long enough that Jinyoung almost thinks he's fallen asleep, except Jaebum's ears keep flicking with each brush of Jinyoung's knuckles against the soft inner lining of flesh. "Don't leave me alone for too long," Jaebum says, voice muffled against Jinyoung's hip.
Jinyoung tenses, stricken, but Jaebum's soft whimpering tapers off into snoring. Jaebum's just guaranteed him a long and sleepless battle, sleep-induced noise aside. The guilt demons gnaw at him for the rest of the night.
Being responsible really sucks.
It's not bad, really. Not long after the initially terse first night (more like week, but details aren't that important to Jinyoung), he and Jaebum settle into a slightly less uneasy coexistence.
It helps that Jaebum spends most of his daylight hours dozing on Jinyoung's bed, and Jinyoung tries to spend more hours in his apartment. Jaebum, for all his prickliness the first day, adapts fairly quickly, and doesn't complain much when Jinyoung stumbles into the hallway at six am to dump his overnight bag on the couch and find a tie that doesn't horribly clash with the blazer he leaves in the office.
It's probably because Jinyoung looks like hell is warming over that Jaebum doesn't comment as much, and for a while Jinyoung thinks that this is how the rest of his days with a cat boy at home would look like - awkward strangers forced to put up with each other until one of them winds up on a ditch or runs away. All bets point to Jinyoung being the sacrificial lamb; Jaebum is way too attached with his mattress to give it up.
They have a system now, though: Jaebum wakes him up with his tail flicking at Jinyoung's ears, and because Jinyoung sleeps like the dead, really wakes him up by yanking on his foot and dragging him off the bed, out of the room, and into the shower. Jaebum is honestly doing wonders for Jinyoung's attendance record at work, but Jinyoung doesn't think that this is what Mark had in mind when he'd said Jaebum would be good for him.
None of them can even cook, but at least Jaebum is a little more organized than he is. Then again, anyone is better than Jinyoung at domesticity, if the perennial state of clutter surrounding his bed is a sign of it. He hasn't seen his floor in months. Maybe getting Jaebum isn't such a bad idea.
"You're disgusting," Jaebum informs him, unimpressed. He's pinching the hood of an unwashed jacket in between his thumb and forefinger, looking like he'd rather burn it than let it go through the wash. It's taken him only a few days to crack and give in to the temptation of cleaning up, mostly because he's likely resigned himself to the fact that his human is a slob. "When did you last do your laundry again?"
Jinyoung doesn't bother answering that, because that would mean admitting to Jaebum that he honestly still does not know how to operate the washing machine beyond pressing random buttons and waiting for the sound of water guzzling into the machine. "If my sisters could see you now," says Jinyoung, contemplating a piece of bacon instead, "they would stop calling me a nag."
"Worse than Jackson," Jaebum says, if only because he knows how much Jinyoung hates that. Jaebum is unfailingly fond of Jackson, mostly because Jackson annoys Jinyoung and Jaebum is secretly a playground bully.
Whatever. Jinyoung may be too lazy to pick up after himself, but he knows Jaebum is equally slothful in different ways. He's perennially allergic to the concept of work, considering that he hides in the bathroom whenever Jinyoung begs him over the phone to send him a few files he left at home. Either that or he's sulking; both seem highly plausible.
"How are you only sweet to me once a month?" Jinyoung mourns. Jaebum stiffens and turns to march out of the room with an armful of clothes, head held high despite his flushed cheeks.
"Let's not talk about this again," Jaebum calls out, a thinly veiled threat. It doesn't really instill fear in Jinyoung, but it's cute that Jaebum tries.
"Yeah," says Jinyoung, muffling his laughter behind his chopsticks. "Good talk."
Once a month, Jaebum locks himself inside Jinyoung's room for at least two days, feverish and sweating as he attempts to become one with Jinyoung's comforter. The first time Jinyoung had seen him, he'd panicked and almost called for an ambulance until Jaebum had growled and pinned his wrists to the table, only to back away in a comically horrified manner at Jinyoung's surprised and pained whimper.
It's the only time Jaebum's remotely resorted to aggression outside of their verbal sparring, and the shock of it had caused Jinyoung to reassess his life choices via a quick phone call to Mark. Mark had been reassuring and even concerned - had offered to take Jaebum out of his hands, even - but at the sight of Jaebum prowling around the hallway, antsy and unsettled, Jinyoung had said no.
Neither of them really likes talking about that time of the month now, but Jaebum always makes it a point to be extra careful around him after those episodes. For, like, 48 hours, tops, before he goes back to nagging at Jinyoung to pick up that damn shirt off the stool and stop leaving empty mugs on the table, god, it's like living with a five year old. The comparison isn't really fair, and Jinyoung should know. He has an arsenal of nieces and nephews to show off as evidence.
"You mean you really don't know?" Is all Yugyeom has to say to mock him, like Jinyoung hadn't poured out his worries and frustrations about his hybrid maybe-possibly-definitely wasting away from some illness.
Yugyeom is Jinyoung and Mark's bratty underclassman-turned-client when he'd gone into a multinational pharmaceutical company as a management trainee and bulldozed his way through his competition with the ice-cold ambition Jinyoung would be prouder of if he doesn't experience the brunt of it every time Yugyeom commissions a project. Yugyeom is also a handy excuse to use company funds in the guise of client meetings, which this technically is, never mind that they only make the token five-minute effort of trading updates and spend the rest of the time catching up on industry gossip and Jinyoung's sad state of affairs.
What if Jaebum's immune system is virtually non-existent from too much complicated family in-breeding? What if he needs surgery? Oh god, Jinyoung should be getting insurance by now.
As if reading the drastic turn of Jinyoung's thoughts, Yugyeom rolls his eyes and decides to end his suffering. "He's not dying, hyung."
Yugyeom knows jack shit, but Jinyoung will take all the consolation he can get. He loosens his chokehold on his cup of coffee and takes a deep breath.
"Spell it out for me, why don't you?" Jinyoung grunts, now intent on spreading the butter on his complimentary piece of breakfast toast so that he doesn't have to notice Yugyeom's expression. He doesn't need to look to know when he's being judged.
"But where would the fun in that be? I kinda like seeing you struggle like this," Yugyeom says with fake sweetness. "Is your cat boy hot?"
Jinyoung almost drops his butter knife. "What does that have to do with it?"
Yugyeom waves at him impatiently, pretending to examine a non-existent chip on his plate. "Just answer the question."
"He's," Jinyoung hesitates, pointedly not thinking about Jaebum's narrow shoulders or his toned arms when he lazily stretches under a spot of sunlight, because he's not a hormonal fifteen year old and that would be weird. "He's not… unattractive."
Yugyeom stares at him.
He makes a face. "He's okay."
"Coming from you, that's a definite yes," says Yugyeom, whistling under his breath. He smiles, clearly up to no good. "Just for that, I'd rather you find out for yourself."
"You say that like Google doesn't exist," says Jinyoung, testily. The butter is lopsided now. Yugyeom is an asshole for distracting him.
"I know how lazy you are outside of school and work," says Yugyeom. "Trust me, you're gonna forget about this the minute you have an Excel sheet open."
Jinyoung puts off "research" because he really does forget about it (ha ha ha, whatever, Kim Yugyeom); he only really remembers Jaebum's tetchy off-days when the door is shut tight and keeps him firmly locked out. It's almost routine to pull out a spare comforter the barely-used linen closet and drape it over the couch.
In retrospect, he should probably count himself lucky that it's already the end of the cycle when certain members of his immediate family feel the need to barge into his home unannounced.
Jinyoung hasn't really had the chance to even think about introducing Jaebum to his family despite the way Jaebum's carved himself into a permanent fixture on Jinyoung's couch. It's partly out of laziness and a tendency to avoid his family unless he really needs something urgently (Jinyoung is deathly allergic to phones, a result of being plagued by uncooperative clients at god-awful hours in the evening).
Partly it's because his sisters are really nosy shits. The eldest one proves exactly how much Jinyoung doesn't trust them to leave him alone until she breaks into his flat one rainy Sunday morning with a pair of soggy shoes in one hand and her three year old son in the other.
"Jireongie, why is your doorway full of so much sh- eep," she says, cutting herself off mid-curse. Jaebum freezes in the middle of the living room, hand caught mid-scratch at his bare abdomen. Jinyoung's nephew, Chunji, makes a happy gurgle at the sight of Jaebum's swishing tail.
"Kitty!" Chunji yells, making grabby hands at Jaebum. Jinyoung drops the remote control on the couch and comes to his feet. The TV blares out outraged yelling from Hell's Kitchen in the background, but it's drowned out by Chunji's plaintive wailing.
"Noona," Jinyoung squeaks out, widening his eyes at her, "learn to knock, please."
"You were taking too long," she says defensively, still shooting bemused looks at Jaebum and Jinyoung. Jaebum finally has the presence of mind to pull a shirt over his head, but it's too late - Jinyoung can already hear the gears turning in his sister's head. "Are you hiding from people again?"
To be fair, Jinyoung was busy taking a power nap after leafing through a hundred slides for his Monday pitch, and Jaebum hates answering the door in principle so they were both banking on the off-chance that their weekend invader would just be a door-to-door salesman. It could be worse, Jinyoung consoles himself. It could have been his mother.
Still, he should really make the token effort to be indignant, even if he does cross the room to press a kiss to her cheek. "I didn’t even give you a key!"
"Please," she snorts, dropping her shoes to the carpeted floor, "you're dumb if you think mom hasn't made copies of your keycard yet and given it to everyone so we could check if you're still alive."
"I think I'll go back to bed and let you two sort this out," Jaebum mutters. He sounds a little distant and far off, like he's closing in on himself and retreating to silence.
Not quietly enough, though, because Jinyoung's sister catches it and makes yet another face that speaks volumes of judgment. Back to bed, huh? She mouths over the top of Chunji's head.
Grow up, he mouths back, making a face.
"Wanna pet kitty," Chunji repeats himself, mournfully this time. Jaebum's ears twitch, and he looks like he can't decide whether to retreat to his room or stay. Jinyoung's sister makes the choice for him by putting a fussy Chunji down, and Chunji shoots off to Jaebum's direction, waddling and clinging onto his leg to make puppy eyes at him until Jaebum gives in and picks him up.
Apparently his sister has no preservation instincts when it comes to her own children, because she lets Jaebum heft Chunji up into his arms and bend his head to let Chunji touch the tip of his ears. The sight of Chunji stroking Jaebum's hair affectionately sets something in Jinyoung off, and he has to suppress the bubble of laughter in his chest at Jaebum's long-suffering expression.
"Is this your crazy Saturday hookup?" His sister whispers conspiratorially, nudging his shoulder. "I didn't know you were into that."
She may as well have been pointing at Jaebum's less-than-human parts with a neon sign, the definition of subtlety and grace. Jaebum, thankfully, doesn't let on that he can hear her loud and clear, but his smile seems to strain slightly. The smile turns into a pained yowl when Chunji tugs a little too roughly for comfort.
"Oh for the love of -" Jinyoung inhales and rubs his eyes. "Noona, this is Jaebum. Jaebum, this is one of my many annoying older sisters, so you don't really need to remember them."
She smacks him upside the head, and Jinyoung winces under her touch. It doesn't really hurt much, but he pretends it does, anyway, just so he could guilt trip her later.
"Please ignore my brother," she says, cheerfully, "we haven't managed to make him a respectable person yet, as you can see."
"Huh," is all Jaebum has to say.
Jinyoung steers her out of the living room and into the kitchen before she can arm Jaebum with horror stories from childhood as ammunition. Jaebum watches over Chunji in the living room, relegated to unofficial babysitting duties as Jinyoung and his sister make hot chocolate and catch up on family gossip while waiting for the rain to let up.
"If I'd known you'd suddenly gotten a cat boy, I would have visited sooner," she says, peering at him carefully over her mug. "The last time you got a pet, it died before the year was over."
"In my defense, I was seven and didn't know that rabbits were easy prey outside the house," he retorts. "Jaebum's a fully-functioning hybrid and I don't think anything would be eating him up any time soon."
"Are you sure about that?" The smirk she sends his way is nothing short of filthy. He makes a mental note to bleach his brain with soap. "Because I've heard rumors about these hybrids, you know. Or maybe it's not him who should be worried about getting eaten, huh?"
"If you're going to make dirty jokes, please don't do it in my presence, ever," he says, pained.
"You're not five, Jireongie," she coos, touching his cheek fondly. He bats her hand away, groaning.
"Sometimes I wish I were."
"You'll always be a toddler in my eyes," she assures him, "tantrums and all."
"Are you sure you're not thinking about your own kid?" He challenges.
"Please, Chunji is like a mini-you," she snorts. "Mom sometimes wonders if she didn't accidentally give birth to you again every time she looks after Chunji."
He thinks of protesting at that, but he gets distracted by the sound of Jaebum's playful fake-growling and Chunji's shrieks of laughter in the other room. He doesn't need to peer at Jaebum to know that he's likely on all fours by now, prowling and pretending to hunt Chunji down in a game of hide-and-seek. His sister makes a soft, understanding sound, and he ducks his head to hide his embarrassed grin.
"He's good with kids," she comments idly, setting her empty mug on her lap and cupping the base with her palms.
"Yeah, he's -" He starts, then offers, lamely, "He's good at a lot of things."
"You really lucked out on this one, huh?" She cracks a smile at him, eyes slit into crescents from the force of it. "Chunji's already half in love with him."
"You're going to have to pry Chunji off him later," says Jinyoung. "I don't wanna sit in to watch the waterworks, okay?"
"We could always take him off your hands if it comes down to it," his sister teases.
The thought of it makes him tense, and suddenly he remembers Mark's offer, weeks ago. It's disquieting, thinking about parting ways with Jaebum now. This is probably how excessively dependent pet owners feel all the time, and it's not a road Jinyoung wants to travel but he'd rather not have the alternative absence of Jaebum in his life.
"No way," he says, shrugging off the thought. He gets up to take her mug from her and dumps it on the sink. "You and your spawn will drive him crazy by the end of the week."
Even with his back turned to her, he can feel her rolling her eyes at him. "He probably won't agree anyway," she scoffs, voice loud even through the noise of water gushing out of the faucet as he rinses the mugs clean. "Not with how he looks at you."
He stops scrubbing at a particularly stubborn spot of chocolate sticking to the base of the mug. "What do you mean?"
She looks at him like she can't understand how dumb he is, which is, like, her default face 70% of the time after he hit the age of twelve and started locking himself in his room and complaining about privacy. "Jinyoung, he didn't stop glaring at me until you told him I was your sister," she says slowly. "I'm pretty sure that's how my own husband looks at all of my ex-boyfriends on Facebook."
He shoots her a doubtful look, and she shrugs helplessly, tucking her hair behind her ear. "He thought you were a stranger breaking into our flat," he argues, setting the mug down on the rack to dry. "Somehow, I highly doubt he had the presence of mind to even think you were anything but a robber."
"Hey, if you don't believe me, then suit yourself." She holds up her manicured hands in defeat. "Don't say I didn't warn you when you end up married to your hybrid three years down the line."
"That's crazy," he says. "You're crazy."
"I'll believe you when you stop making heart eyes back at him," she crows. She makes a heart sign with her hands, as if to rile him up. Given how his skin feels like it's crawling in irritation, it's working. "I know you have a thing for dudes that can take care of kids, so don't even think about lying your way out of this."
Jinyoung makes a frustrated noise at the back of his throat and busies himself with rummaging for milk from the fridge. Chunji and Jaebum are probably tired by now, and while he can't offer them a plate of soft batch cookies, this will have to do. His sister doesn't need a refill, and she's definitely not getting one after picking on him so much. She can get it herself.
He sets two glasses on a tray and studiously ignores his sister as he makes his way out. Contrary to her actual age, she giggles and kicks her feet out, nudging his knee and almost knocking him down in the process.
"It's cute that you think you're right, but noona always knows best," she says, cheeky as ever. "I hope you know thiis is a no-judgment zone and I accept you for all your kinks."
"I hate you so much," he says, flatly.
Her eyes twinkle with barely concealed amusement. "As long as you promise you'll invite me to the wedding, okay?"
He gets irate phone calls from his mother and his other sister that night, no doubt after getting a report of Jinyoung's non-existent future nuptials. The worst part about it isn't how his middle sister pesters him into sending pictures of how hot this Jaebum is, unnie was practically salivating, Jinyoung, nor is it how his mother sobs on the phone about how she never gets to hear from him anymore and now she's the last to know about his love affair with a hybrid, how could you, Jireongie, I didn't raise you to breed in sin and out of wedlock!
The absolutely miserable and excruciating icing on the cake is when his mother passes the phone to his father and they trade an awkward hi - hello - how are you - I'm sorry about your mother - it's fine, she's - by the way are you using condoms - wait, what?
"Hear me out, Jinyoung," his father says, levelly, a stark contrast to how Jinyoung is having heart palpitations. His family is never good for his mental health or his blood pressure, and he's only in his twenties. "I know you're a smart boy, and you might have gotten tested before the heats started coming, but it's a very serious matter to always use protection. You never know when you might need to keep yourself safe."
Jinyoung makes an unhappy gurgle at the back of his throat. Jaebum, blessedly asleep and ignorant of the ongoing conversation, snuffles and tucks his head into Jinyoung's nape. Like this, with his tail under the comforter and the top of his head hidden from Jinyoung's view, he looks almost human. Except he isn't; he isn't.
"We are not talking about this," he whispers.
"I trust you, Jinyoung-ah," his father says, and Jinyoung would feel more touched any other day except nope, not happening, he is not about to get round 2 of the sex talk he's never wanted to have.
He hangs up and turns to his side, muffling his angry yelling into a pillow. Behind him, Jaebum blissfully snores on, still draped all over Jinyoung like a suffocating blanket. One of these days they should talk about personal space and boundaries in the bedroom, but he's too traumatized to care.
He really, really hates phone calls from his family.
"I heard you had a mental breakdown over Jaebum last week," is the first thing Bambam tells him that Saturday when they meet up at the park. Jaebum, Mark and Jackson are kicking a football around with a group of high school kids, something Jinyoung's opted out of once he'd seen the ominous rainclouds in the distance.
Bambam, ostensibly, is keeping him company under the shade of a tree, but, really, he's only with Jinyoung to terrorize him.
"Jaebum is a filthy liar," Jinyoung says, not looking up from the pocketbook he's reading. He grunts when Bambam rearranges his limbs so he can rest his head on his lap. By nature, Bambam acts like he's starved for touch half the time, but catch him in the presence of strangers - noonas, especially - he pretends he's too cool for displays of affection. Apparently the judgment of prepubescent teenagers doesn't merit that. Mark should really talk to Bambam about this instead of letting his hybrids roam with barely a thought for social conventions.
"It was actually your sister," says Bambam, preening.
"Also a filthy liar." Jinyoung narrows his eyes and lowers the book from his line of sight to stare suspiciously at Bambam. "Which one?"
Bambam ignores him and just laughs. "I was kinda thinking you have breakdowns regardless of Jaebum's involvement," says Bambam, impudence bordering on disrespect - yet another thing Mark should probably train him out of. Fucking Jackson. "But this is more amusing than any sitcom or drama."
Jinyoung bops him on the head, and feels only marginally guilty at Bambam's pained whine. "Shouldn't you be calling him hyung?"
"I've had an owner longer, so technically I'm his senior," Bambam boasts, ears twitching slightly in irritation. Unconsciously, Jinyoung strokes at the space between his ears, tousling his dyed hair in the process. Bambam would balk at it later when they pass by a mirror, but for now, he seems to sink into Jinyoung's touch, boneless.
From far away, Jaebum seems to stiffen at the sound of Bambam's pleased purring. He turns to look at them with an unreadable look on his face.
"This is why Jaebum doesn't like hanging out with you," says Jinyoung, clicking his tongue.
"Nah, he doesn't like me because he feels threatened," says Bambam, shuffling closer to Jinyoung and nudging at his fingers in silent command to keep petting me, human. He points at Jaebum with his thumb, waggling his eyebrows even as Jaebum's unsettled expression deepens into a glower. "He's just jealous I'm close to you, hyung."
"Funny you should say that," Jinyoung grunts out, because Bambam is too close, scrambling to his knees and parking himself on Jinyoung's lap. It's something he's done since he was a kid, but it's stopped being cute and become more of a bother since his growth spurt. "Get off. Did you gain weight again?"
"You're not being convincing when you look like you just spat out a hairball," Bambam whines, nails digging into Jinyoung's hip. He widens his eyes and pouts. "Smile and wave, hyung!"
Jinyoung helplessly obeys, and for a brief moment Jaebum looks extremely conflicted, like he doesn't know if he should set aside his irritation or indulge Jinyoung. He lets out a grunt of pain when Jackson sends a football to his back.
"Get your head in the game, man!" Jackson calls out, pissed. Jaebum stalks over to him and Jinyoung closes his eyes at the prospect of an incoming fight breaking out.
"See?" Bambam says, sounding inordinately thrilled. "I'm a genius."
"You're delusional, that's what you are," Jinyoung informs him. He goes back to reading and resolves to focus lest he ends up getting caught in yet another of Bambam's ill-advised schemes.
"Genius," Bambam crows.
Mark ends up kicking Jaebum and Jackson out of the game for unruly behavior. Jackson sulks and circles around the park, walking off his annoyance, while Jaebum settles for plopping down in between Bambam and Jinyoung, shoving Bambam out of the way when Bambam tries to cross over and use Jinyoung as a human pillow.
"That's not fair," Bambam wails. "I was here first!"
"Go bother your human, not mine," says Jaebum. He keeps his tone light even as he checks his nails and kicks at Bambam's transgressing fingers.
"Whatever," says Bambam, sneering as he stands up. "I know when I'm not wanted. I can read the mood."
"Bye Bambam," says Jinyoung, absently turning a page.
He doesn't catch the triumphant smirk Jaebum shoots at Bambam, but he does hear Bambam's miffed noises. Jaebum's tail curls around Jinyoung's waist, loose enough not to be uncomfortable but a protective cradle all the same. Jinyoung sets his hand down on Jaebum's thigh in response and pets him even through the heat emanating from his shorts and the rapidly cooling sweat of his skin. Jaebum exhales, a soft, winded grunt, and he presses closer to nudge at Jinyoung's cheek with his nose.
"Disgusting," Bambam insists, and goes off to bother Jackson instead.
part one | two