Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It is our promise

No one take you down

Don’t worry, I`ll be there

Shining like a star

-ATEEZ “Promise”

Late summer means both harvest season and monsoon season. The green waves of crops stretch out on three sides of Hongjoong’s square of land, ripe and ready for profit. The sun dips down, hiding behind an onslaught of heavy clouds. The sky weeps for the end of summer, darkening from sweet orange to deep indigo. Hongjoong sits in his mother’s rocking chair on the front porch, iced tea in hand, and basks in the thick smell of rain. The automatic lights near his front door and across the gravel driveway near the barn flare to life, exposing little toads that hop into the safety of the tall grass. 

Hongjoong sighs in contentment, shaking the half-melted ice in his glass. Sweat sticks to the back of his neck and clumps the azure strands of his hair. After a long day gathering tomatoes and melons, he’s confident in his sale tomorrow. He won’t have to worry about the bills for a few weeks if everything goes right. He tips back, the wooden legs creaking under his weight, enjoying the simple feeling. Time is thick like the air, dripping past Hongjoong like honey until it falls fast and hard with the rain. A wave of exhaustion pulls him further down into his chair as downpour ricochets off the edge of the porch and onto his toes. Time for bed.

He lays sprawled for a second longer, enjoying the cooler air. When the hard seat starts digging into his lower back, he groans, righting his posture and cracking his spine. He shivers for a second, the drop in temperature and wet air sending goosebumps up and down his skin. Just as his hand lands on the handle of his screen door, there’s a bright flash out of the corner of his eye.

It’s his motion sensor light on the far end of the barn.

He frowns, debating whether to check it out or not. Usually, it’s a stray raccoon or sometimes even the wind blowing something big enough to trigger the sensor. But what if it’s a coyote? He groans at the thought, dreading the idea of a predator getting close to his chickens when he’s around. The light switches off, the timer expiring with lack of movement. Hongjoong takes it as his cue to ignore it and swings open the screen door. He pushes open the front door just as the white light wakes up again, screaming for his attention.

Whatever it is, it’s still there.

Hongjoong thunks his forehead against the doorframe. Making up his mind, he sets his empty iced tea glass on the nearest table inside and pulls on some sandals. He’s so tired. Whatever animal that interrupted his plan to sleep is going to pay for it. Dearly.

He trudges down the steps, not caring when he’s instantly soaked or when the screen door bangs shut behind him. Maybe that would be enough to scare it away. He kicks at the gravel as he walks, stubbing his toe once on a particularly large pebble. Rounding the side of his red barn, he checks the surrounding field for any animals. But with the heavy rain and harsh lighting, he can’t see past the first few rows.

His chickens better be alright. He just got three new hens last week; he can’t afford for even one to die just yet. As far as he knows, they’re all safe and sound inside, but there’s a little door into the chicken coop from the outside of the barn that would be easy for coyotes to get into. Of course, the animal would have to get into the closed-off pen first.

Hongjoong blinks water out of his eyes, squinting through the chicken wire into the closed-off land. Nothing. So what set off the light twice? Was it a raccoon after all? Was it a stray chicken not getting the memo of sunset? He fidgets in place, fingers tracing the wire. Should he check around just to be sure? His aching bones say no, but his mind says yes. He sighs, dragging his feet as he makes his way to the other side of the pen and subsequently the back of his barn. 

He shivers again, this time with slight fear instead of the cold rain. Hongjoong doesn’t usually hang around outside at night, since he lives alone. He’s really risking it for some goddamn chickens. Those eggs better taste amazing in the morning. He thinks he sees something along the wall, but once again, the light doesn’t reach far enough for him to tell. He inches closer, biting his lip.

“Hey!”

He almost jumps at his own voice bouncing off the painted red wood and echoing into the fields. He swears he sees the black smudge in the dark flinch. It’s definitely too big for a coyote or raccoon. Shit.

He steps even closer. The thing solidifies as his eyes adjust to the darkness. “Stay away from my chickens!”

He doesn’t expect the low growl in return. Hongjoong stifles a yelp, foot splashing in a puddle. Do coyotes sound like that? Do wolves? He gulps, standing his ground and leaning even more.

“Whatever or whoever you are, please get off my property!” He tries to yell as assertive-yet-still-polite as possible. The thing growls again, dark grating that permeates the humidity and threatens Hongjoong. He swallows again, running a shaky hand through his hair. He tugs at the ends, trying to figure out what to do. He’s read that if he stays dominant and tries to out-scare things like coyotes, foxes, and bears, they’ll go away, right? Is he supposed to stand or keep moving? He hears the growl again and hastily makes up his mind, dropping his hands and assuming the most authoritative stance he can.

“I won’t tell you again!” He yells, shuffling forward. The growl bursts into a bark. The shadow moves swiftly.

Hongjoong realizes he’s made a grave mistake.

Large hands reach out of the darkness, latching onto Hongjoong’s wrists and wrenching them away from his body. He abruptly loses his balance, wailing when his head cracks dully against waterlogged grass. The body on top of him is heavy and much, much bigger than he thought. He struggles to open his eyes under the rain and darkness, squinting up into an aggressive and entirely too human face. Wild eyes glare back, accompanied by a grimace filled with slightly too sharp teeth. The growls have increased tenfold, deafening Hongjoong’s ears as the other intimidatingly leans in. This isn’t an ordinary coyote or wolf.

This is a hybrid.

“Please don’t hurt me!” Hongjoong cries, shrinking from those teeth. He tries to shield his face with his hands but they’re pinned. He can barely turn his face away, breaths coming in short, stuttered bursts. Oh god. This is how he dies. He should’ve just ignored the light and stayed inside. Hongjoong screws his eyes shut, fearing the worst.

He subconsciously feels the hybrid pause. The other leans in, making Hongjoong gasp and gnaw at his lip in apprehension. What feels like his nose grazes the shell of Hongjoong’s ear and down the side of his neck. The vice grip around his wrists slacken and the other pulls back.

“I’m… sorry.”

Hongjoong coughs in shock, automatically pulling his wrists away and wrestling the other off of him. The hybrid hangs his head, letting himself be shoved away. Hongjoong scuttles back a few paces, breathing heavily with a hand over his heart.

“What the fuck?”

The hybrid lifts his gaze and Hongjoong notices a pair of floppy golden ears on his head. Definitely a dog hybrid.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. Are you… hurt?” He asks again.

“Am I hurt ?” Hongjoong laughs incredulously. It devolves into a coughing fit. “Am- am I hurt? What do you think ?”

The hybrid shrinks in on himself and Hongjoong immediately feels bad. “I mean, I am but it’s nothing big,” he assuages, massaging the back of his skull. “I- what are you doing here? Why did you attack me if you’re sorry?”

“I panicked! I’m trying to find shelter in this rain and all of the sudden this human starts yelling at me. I didn’t know what to do and my instincts took over!” The other blurts, tail sagging. He wrings his hands together, dark eyes flitting between Hongjoong and the ground. “Please don’t take me to the pound,” he adds in a pitiful tone.

The human frowns. That didn’t even cross his mind but the words are a wave of reality. A stray hybrid that just attacked him is now hiding behind his barn in the rain. The poor thing must be so cold and tired, even more so than him. He bites his lip, already giving in despite his mind screaming at him to run away.

Hongjoong exhales harshly, unintentionally spooking the other as he pulls himself off the muddied grass and uselessly brushes off his dirty knees. He holds his palms up, attempting to look as non-threatening as possible.

“I promise I won’t take you to the pound. But you owe me an explanation,” he starts slowly. “I’m going to go inside my house. You’re welcome to follow me. I’ll make some tea or something to warm us up.”

Hongjoong waits until the other nods his head before he turns and heads back. The dog hybrid slinks behind out of the corner of his eye. He gnaws at his bottom lip as they scurry through the heavy rain, running through the possibilities of the next few hours. He holds the creaking screen door open for the other, beckoning the shy boy with one hand to enter.

“Please, come in. It’s no use staying out in this weather,” he tries. The other scratches at his dripping ears, hesitating, but quickly ducks into the dry house. Hongjoong carefully closes the door behind him, latching it before shutting the front door as well.

“So you’re not going after my chickens, then?” Hongjoong tries to joke, kicking off his shoes and running a hand through his damp hair. He turns just as the hybrid shakes his entire body, flinging mud and water everywhere like a… well, like a dog . When he finishes his hair and tail are significantly more puffed up, dry, and lighter-colored. At Hongjoong’s splutter, he freezes, wide-eyed as if to gauge the human’s reaction.

“Oh no, I’m sorry it was a force of habit! I didn’t mean to get water everywhere…” his voice peters out. He winces when Hongjoong chuckles.

“Ugh, it’s no big deal. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tracked mud in here. I’ll clean this up later.” Hongjoong walks past the man into his kitchen, trying to ignore how much taller he is. He shivers. The other would have no problem attacking him if he really wanted to. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem the type, especially with all his fervent apologies.

“So?” He asks, pulling out a kettle and filling it with water. When he gets no response even after setting it on the stove and starting it, Hongjoong looks back. The hybrid stands on his welcome mat in the middle of his front room, appearing lost with his head tilted. “You didn’t answer my question. You’re not going after my chickens?”

The boy shakes his head vehemently. “No, I swear! All I was looking for is shelter. I thought your barn would have enough roof. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten or attack you or even trespass.” His words become slightly louder and faster. “Please don’t take me back to the pound—”

“Woah, woah,” Hongjoong laughs in disbelief. “No worries. Gosh, I don’t mind too horribly. You just surprised me, that’s all. I mean, I do have a slight head injury…” He rubs the growing bruise hidden under cobalt hair.

“I’m sorry!”

Hongjoong holds up a hand, scrounging through his cabinets for two mugs. “I get it. Water under the bridge. You’re fine. Actually, you’re lucky it was my farm you came across and not my neighbor’s. Some of them are pretty mean and probably shoot on sight.” He glances over and catches the other’s face pale as he crosses his arms protectively. Oops. Maybe he went too far. The human sets out two mugs on his counter. After a few seconds of contemplative silence, he turns towards the other.

“Can I at least get a name?” He asks politely.

The hybrid startles like he’d drifted away in thought in those short seconds.

“Uh, Yunho. My name is Yunho,” he responds timidly.

“Nice to meet you, Yunho. I’m Hongjoong,” he says, smiling broadly. The hybrid returns his smile slightly, honey-colored ears lifting. “Well, Yunho, you’re welcome to come in and sit, you know. Don’t worry about tracking mud, I’ve already done it plenty myself.”

Hongjoong watches Yunho slowly make his way to the wooden table in his kitchen, pull out a chair, and perch on the edge. He smiles softly at the over-politeness of his actions.

“Is there a particular tea that you prefer?” He continues, pawing through his collection on the top shelf. “I have all kinds, especially fruit tea since it’s in season. Or perhaps you’d like something soothing like chamomile?”

“I actually have never had tea, so you don’t have to give me anything,” Yunho admits. Hongjoong’s jaw drops in exaggerated shock.

“Never had tea?!” He exclaims, even bringing his wrist to his forehead. The other cracks a smile at his theatrics. “Why, you’re missing out! I insist now, you must try some.”

“Well, if you must,” Yunho’s sharp teeth bite at his bottom lip. “Whatever is your favorite is fine.”

“Chai tea it is, then.” He fishes out the appropriate bags and places them in the empty mugs. As if on cue, the kettle whistles, making the hybrid flinch. Hongjoong rushes to turn off the stove and remove the kettle. He carefully pours the hot water into each of the mugs and sets the kettle in his sink to wash later. Hongjoong gingerly picks up the mugs with both hands and carries them over to the table, sliding into a seat adjacent. The ceramic clinks against solid wood as he slides one to Yunho, who watches him warily.

“Thank you,” he iterates softly, wrapping long fingers around the warm mug. He brings it close, breathing in the steam, and Hongjoong can see the moment he relaxes.

“Don’t drink it just yet, you might burn yourself,” he advises. The other nods, continuing to hold the rim under his chin.

“Are you… willing to tell me why you were hiding out behind my barn?” Hongjoong asks, fumbling when the other locks up again. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me anything, but I would like to know how I can help you.”

Yunho sighs, his floppy ears drooping. Hongjoong scrutinizes the hybrid’s appearance under better lighting. He’s tall, handsome, and too nice to be scrounging for cover. Sure, the other’s sandy hair is matted with mud and his clothes are plain and stained, but his face is too handsome and he bears no scratches or signs of abuse. He wears the stiff gray shirt and trousers that are provided at the local animal shelter and seems more of a runaway or stray than anything. Yet, he begs Hongjoong to not take him back.

In the quiet minute of contemplation, the human realizes that as he’s been staring at Yunho, the other has also been sizing him up. Hongjoong blushes slightly under the mutual scrutiny, going to sip at his mostly cooled off tea. Yunho, coming to a conclusion, huffs to himself.

“I… it’s not that I’ve been horribly mistreated or anything, but I’d rather not go back there ,” he starts. Mimicking Hongjoong, he tastes the tea in his hands, momentarily lighting up at the flavor and warmth. Hongjoong notices a small thumping noise and upon looking down, sees that the other’s tail is wagging. He covers his grin with another sip of tea.

“I don’t know how you feel about us hybrids, but already you’ve been the kindest human I’ve met. So I’m more inclined to trust you and your judgment. If you decide I need to leave, I will do so immediately.”

Hongjoong’s heart sinks at the finality of his tone. “Wait, don’t worry about that right now. I’ll assume the best of you unless you prove to me otherwise.”

Yunho’s gaze darts from him, to his mug, to the dark, stained grain of the tabletop, to the brightly painted cupboards, to the unlocked front door, and back to him.

“Right. I was dropped off at the pound because my previous owners didn’t want me anymore. This isn’t the first time it’s happened, either. I’ve been a little kid’s birthday present four times now and every time they’ve grown bored of me in a matter of years. Either that or I’m too big or too much work for them,” he explains, voice dripping with bitterness. Hongjoong purses his lips, willing himself to stay silent for the other.

“I decided I’d had enough. I’m not going to wait around for another kid to treat me as less than human and then hope I end up at another no-kill shelter. It’s only a matter of time before I get unlucky and die if I continue like this. It’s gotta be better this way, right?” He slides down in his chair a little, resting his chin heavily in his hands. 

“So I got out. Jumped the door the moment someone opened it and ran into the fields. And then it rained. And I stumbled here somehow. Met you. The rest is history.” He glances up apologetically. “Sorry, my life story is really depressing.”

Hongjoong hums. He taps the handle of his mug, pondering what to say and do. Yunho’s backstory does help matters, but he’s unsure on how to proceed. The hybrid has no reason to lie, and he’s been genuine thus far.

“I want to ask you,” the other starts, biting his lip again, “If I’m not overstepping, could I stay with you for a while?” At Hongjoong’s surprised stare, he quickly continues. “I would work for it, of course! You mentioned chickens, right? I can help you take care of them! Or-or wash clothes. Or, um, I don’t know, plant seeds? You can make me sleep outside if you don’t want to see me in the house.”

The certainty of his last sentence strikes a chord in Hongjoong’s heart. He imagines a younger Yunho curled up outside, chained to a fencepost while a faceless family berates him for even showing his face inside. The human forces himself to drink half his cup before answering.

“Yunho-ah.” He’s tempted to reach for one of his hands but refrains. “You’re more than welcome to help around my farm. If you think that’s the best you can do for me in exchange for staying, then by all means. But I would never let you sleep outside, god. That sounds awful.”

Maybe he has too much of a bleeding heart. Maybe Yunho’s natural puppy eyes are too convincing. But the increased thumping of his elated tail is too cute and rewarding. Sue him.

“Really? Oh, thank you so much. I promise I’ll make it up to you as best I can. Thank you so, so much ,” Yunho gushes, completely melting into a grateful mess. Hongjoong suppresses the urge to pat his head.

“Don’t mention it,” he mutters, face red. “Now finish your tea and I’ll show you where you can sleep for tonight.”

Honestly, the hybrid’s proposal works out in Hongjoong’s favor as well. Being the only man on his farm for so long, some duties have been lackluster as of late. Having a new farmhand who he only has to pay in food and shelter is more than worthwhile. As he shows Yunho to his mudroom, he plans what activities are easy enough for the other to pick up on. He pulls out a change of clothes for the boy and sets them nearby while he instructs him on how to use the built-in shower. Sure, Hongjoong invited him to stay but that doesn’t mean he gets to use his nice upstairs bathroom shower!

While Yunho cleans up, he ambles into his living room, assessing his meager furniture. After his parents died and left the house and farm to him, much of his decor has been sold off to make ends meet. However, he still has a nice patterned sofa and an antique coffee table with a floor lamp. Next to the sofa is a wicker basket teeming with blankets he usually reserves for the colder months. He can turn the area into a simple sleeping area.

Hongjoong pulls out a majority of the blankets, laying his grandmother’s thick indigo crocheted one first over the sofa. While the cushions are comfortable, Hongjoong wouldn’t want to sleep on the rough fabric. He positions the others around in a way suitable. He sets down the decorative pillows just as Yunho exits the mudroom, padding through the kitchen to the living room. He tilts his head in question, watching silently.

“Here, I made a sleeping space for you.” When the other opens his mouth, he cuts him off. “No, this is the least I can do. I don’t use this space very often anyway. I’m glad you’re getting some use out of these blankets this time of year.”

Yunho ducks his head shyly, muttering his gratitude. Hongjoong smiles sweetly, turning on the lamp next to the sofa. He steps over to the light switch, turning off all overhead lights and leaving the hybrid in a soft glow. He smiles even more at the way his normally oversized mismatched pajamas fit Yunho a little too well. The pants sit lower on his hips to make up for his golden tail, a problem Hongjoong is sure to remedy another day. His hair is much lighter and fluffier now that it is clean and dry. His face is full of quiet disbelief as he studies the mound of blankets before him.

“I’m going to bed, okay?” Hongjoong calls out, shuffling to the stairs in the middle of the space. “If you really need me, my room is the first one on the right.” Yunho nods in understanding.

“Goodnight,” Hongjoong chuckles at his reaction.

“Uh, goodnight?”

The human traipses up the stairs, debating whether he should shower or go straight to bed. After peeling off his sticky clothes he relents to shower in his master bathroom. The entire bedtime routine his brain is either running a mile a minute or filled with cotton. He sighs when he finally falls into bed in fresh pajamas and damp hair. He leaves his window open, enjoying the fresh humid air. The rain has thinned to a mist and looks to stay that way until morning. He’s about to turn his bedside lamp off and call it a night when his door creaks open.

“Gah— Yunho!” He yelps, needlessly pulling the sheets up to cover himself. The dog hybrid pokes his head in, wide eyes searching for something. “W-what is it?”

“I’m really sorry but, if it’s no trouble, could I sleep at the edge of your bed?”

Hongjoong, in his tiredness, must not have been able to control the several emotions of shock, confusion, and slight annoyance on his face. Immediately, Yunho shies behind the cracked white door, his ears barely poking out.

“I’m sorry, I overstepped, didn’t I? Please ignore that and go to sleep, I’ll leave—”

“No, no, Yunho, wait,” Hongjoong sighs, running a hand down his face. “Why do you want to sleep here instead of downstairs? Do you really trust me that much?”

“I just, well, I thought, um,” Yunho takes a deep breath. “I’m uncomfortable by myself downstairs knowing you’re up here and I thought that part of my contribution could be to guard your bed at night while you sleep and I’ll stay on the floor!”

Hongjoong can’t help his laugh. When it’s clear the other isn’t joking he stops. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Very.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. After a moment he shrugs, settling back down in his bed. “Sure, Yunho. Whatever floats your boat. If you’d feel more comfortable on the floor at the end of my bed rather than a sofa , I suppose it won’t hurt.”

The other, clearly not catching his underlying gripe, beams and pushes the door further open. Hongjoong spies three of the blankets pulled from downstairs in his hands. He pulls them in, dropping them into a pile at the bottom of Hongjoong’s king-sized bed. At least he closed the door behind him. When it sounds like the hybrid has gotten himself situated, Hongjoong shakes his head again and reaches to turn off his light. His room plunges into darkness and immediately he’s drifting off. He thought, with his new companion, he would have a harder time falling asleep. But with his weary body and newfangled security alarm in the form of a dog hybrid, he finds himself embracing sleep within seconds.

Chapter Text

No matter what, some people say,

No matter what, some people hate,

No matter what, the things that make you sick,

Just keep it up.

-“Sunrise”

The sun peeks through the leaves of the tree outside his window. The glass remains ajar from the night before, allowing a sweet breeze to drift in and ruffle Hongjoong’s bangs. He mumbles as he wakes, stretching languidly and blinking the sand out of his eyes. A content smile tugs at the corners of his cheeks and he enjoys the calm early morning. Sitting up, the sheets bunch at his waist and he drags his legs out and over the side of his mattress. He’s about to slide down to touch the floorboards but his heart jumps as he notices a lump at the end of his bed. A furry tail pokes out from a stack of colorful blankets, moving ever so slightly.

Right.

Hongjoong wills his body to calm down as he remembers the events of the night prior. A dog hybrid, who’s name is Yunho, is now residing with him in exchange for free labor. And for some reason, he’s decided that labor entails guarding Hongjoong at night like an actual dog. He thought hybrids didn’t like to be treated like pets but then again, he hasn’t met a hybrid in his life, only glimpsing them every so often when he goes to town.

Yunho shifts in his sleep, rousing after the creak of Hongjoong’s feet on the floor. He mumbles a little, stretching with long limbs over the human’s pathway. His nose wrinkles as his face meets the sun and dark umber eyes blink against the light. Hongjoong raises an amused eyebrow when their gazes meet and Yunho snaps to alertness.

“H-hello, Hongjoong, uh sir? Mister? G-good morning!” Yunho cringes at his own words and the human frowns slightly.

“Please don’t ever call me sir again,” he says, shuddering at the thought. “Just Hongjoong is fine.”

“Um, okay… Hongjoong.”

He smiles softly at the other, internally cooing at the sight of his bedhead.

“Did you sleep well, on the floor?”

Yunho nods fervently, sitting upright and staring up at him. “I did, yes. Thank you so much again.”

Hongjoong ducks his head, ignoring the creeping heat of embarrassment on his face. “It’s fine. Would you like to join me for breakfast?”

The hybrid’s tail swishes against crocheted fabric. “I would, thank you.”

He steps around the other, who rises carefully, nudging his makeshift bed out of the way. Hongjoong doesn’t have to wait for the other to follow him down the stairs, clicking on the lights in the kitchen. The digital clock over the stove reads 6:40 in the morning, later than he usually wakes. Good thing he doesn’t have much to do that day.

Hongjoong starts a pot of coffee, the first and most important step of his morning ritual. He makes sure to brew more than usual, conscious of the boy timidly sliding into a chair at his table. Then he pulls out a pan from his lower cabinets, setting it on the stove. The human plucks four eggs from his basket next to the sink and cracks them into the pan.

“Wait,” he realizes too late, disposing of the shells, “can you eat eggs? What’s your diet?”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure I can eat anything a human can. I don’t really know since I’ve only eaten dog food and sometimes meat,” Yunho responds, scratching behind his ear.

Hongjoong chokes. “What?! Only dog food? That’s inhumane!”

“Well, I’m not human, so…” He shrugs, shying away from the outburst.

“Nonetheless…” Hongjoong runs a hand through unruly blue hair. “You’re sure to like eggs then. And fruit.” He turns back to the stove, quickly finishing the food. A few shakes of salt and pepper later, the eggs are put on a plate along with fresh grapes from his garden. Hongjoong places the chipped plate in front of Yunho who practically drools. Giggling a little, he quickly pours two colorful mugs of coffee and sets them on the wood.

“Oh, I forgot,” Hongjoong mutters, running to his fridge and pulling out store-bought sweetened creamer. “For the coffee, in case you don’t like it straight.”

“Oh there’s no way I won’t! It all smells so delicious, ” Yunho gushes, holding his fork awkwardly. Hongjoong doesn’t comment further, letting the other decide for himself.

The human eats slowly, mainly watching the dog hybrid dive into his food with great intensity. Even if he doesn’t verbally admit his admiration, the thump of his tail says it all. Hongjoong sips at his black coffee, allowing himself to truly wake up bit by bit. He doesn’t understand how the other is so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed… literally .

Yunho scrapes the last bit of egg into his mouth easily despite his difficulty holding eating utensils. He immediately moves on to the grapes, popping the red orbs into his mouth one by one. At Hongjoong’s quiet laugh, he freezes, blushing furiously at the sight of his still half-full plate.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, mouth still full.

“What for?” Hongjoong mumbles back, mouth also half-full.

“I should’ve waited for you to eat.”

“It’s fine.” Hongjoong briefly wonders how often he’s said those words and how much more he will have to say them.

Yunho gauges him for a few seconds, gradually returning to eating his grapes. Hongjoong drinks more of his coffee, pondering what to do for the day. The hybrid, after finishing his plate, glances at his own untouched mug. He reaches for it, carefully bringing it to his nose and smelling deeply. His face wrinkles and Hongjoong pauses, eager to see his reaction. Yunho takes a quick gulp and his ears flatten immediately.

“Ugh--!” He forces himself to swallow, gingerly putting the mug down and far away from him. “That’s not like tea…”

Hongjoong can’t help but guffaw, setting down his own mug to clutch the sides of the table. “No, you’re right, it’s not. I told you that you might not like it.” He rubs a few stray tears from his eyes. Yunho stares at him, petulant.

“But it smells so good?” He whines, sticking his tongue out.

“Here,” Hongjoong remedies, popping open the creamer and pouring a liberal amount into Yunho’s coffee. He stirs it with his fork, the dark liquid softening to a warm tan. “Try it now.”

Yunho glares at the modified coffee, untrusting. Hongjoong laughs some more, nudging the mug into the other’s hands. Not able to deny the human, he reluctantly brings it to his mouth again and takes a tentative sip. Though his nose wrinkles once more, his ears raise in contemplation. After a moment, he takes another, larger sip.

“Better, right?”

Yunho begrudgingly nods and Hongjoong returns to his now-cold breakfast. 

The rest of the morning is spent cleaning up Hongjoong’s front room from the events of last night. The mud is cleared and dishes are washed. Hongjoong provides the hybrid with a change of clothes and his biggest work boots. They travel outside to the barn, the sticky heat of late summer already creeping into the air. Hongjoong instructs Yunho on how to collect eggs and check on the chickens. The other hangs on his every word, true to his promise to help out. 

When he’s sure he’s able to finish cleaning out the henhouse and watch the house on his own, Hongjoong gets ready to leave. He still has to do his job, after all. He loads up his truck with his harvest and drives all over his town, delivering his produce to various groceries and plants. He worries about Yunho the entire time, not quite trusting the other to not steal or run away in the hours he’s gone. He likes to believe he’s a good judge of character, and Yunho seems genuine still.

The sun is lower in the sky when he returns, truck empty but virtual wallet full. He’s satisfied with his turnout, whistling jovially as he opens his front door, noticing it’s still unlocked.

“I’m home,” he calls out, frowning at the empty first floor. Hongjoong’s heart beats a bit faster. He hangs his keys and wipes the sweat off his forehead. Damn, he forgot to open his windows or turn on any fans. He decides to do that first, switching on the overhead fan in the living room. He shoves open the window over the sink, plugging in a box fan and momentarily basking in the cool air.

“Yunho?” He tries again, moving back to his front door and peering past the sun out into his yard. Maybe the other is in the barn? Dread pools in his gut with no response. He stomps up the stairs, coughing at the thick humid air. He slams open the door to his bedroom, which is slightly less hot. The pile of blankets at the foot of his bed is gone.

Wait, no. Not gone. Moved. Hongjoong’s frantic gaze catches on an indigo crocheted corner around his bed, near the open window. The room, though still bright with pale wallpaper, is shaded. The sun is on the other side of the house and the window faces east. This time of day, his bedroom is one of the cooler places in the entire house. The overhead fan is languid, on but barely spinning. Hongjoong carefully makes his way around his messy bed, eyes trailing up from the blanket to Yunho’s sleeping head, which is resting on the window frame.

“Yunho,” Hongjoong breathes, relief flooding him.

“Hmm?” The hybrid lifts his head, opening his eyes and noticing the human looming over him. “Oh, Hongjoong! Uh. Welcome home.”

“Yunho, god,” Hongjoong says again, leaning heavily on his bed. “You scared me for a second. I didn’t know where you were.”

Golden floppy ears fall back in embarrassment. “Sorry. I finished everything you asked me to do and this spot is really comfortable, so I fell asleep,” Yunho explains sheepishly.

Hongjoong grapples with his feelings, running fingers through his hair. On one hand, he’s glad Yunho stayed and didn’t do anything wrong. But on the other, why is he so happy to see that he stayed? He’s barely known the other, but he’s already grown an attachment?

“Are you hungry?” He settles on saying, keeping his dilemma to himself for later. Yunho’s tail wags and Hongjoong giggles a little. “I’ll take that as a yes. Time for dinner, then.”

The next week or so they fall into a routine and Hongjoong gets used to having Yunho around. The hybrid keeps his promise, working dutifully and sometimes going above and beyond what Hongjoong asks him. One night Hongjoong found that not only did Yunho collect all the eggs and feed the chickens, but he also swept the floor outside of the pen in the barn. Another night Yunho washed the dishes before Hongjoong thought to do so. He acquainted himself with most of Hongjoong’s household chores, taking over while the human deals with his farm.

He insists to sleep at the end of Hongjoong’s bed, though. No matter how many times he offered the couch or even the spare bed in the guest bedroom, Yunho stubbornly lies on his pile of blankets in his room. Hongjoong gave up after three days, no longer surprised to see a blonde head poking past his mattress in the morning.

And so they live together in a symbiotic relationship, free of conflict or incidents.

Until one day, Yunho wakes Hongjoong up well before sunrise.

“Hongjoong. Hongjoong !” He groans at the incessant hisses, blinking blearily at his surroundings. The room is still dark, the sluggish fan rotating above in the inky gloom. Hongjoong’s head flops over, coming face to face with a very concerned Yunho.

“M-wha?”

“There’s someone in the barn.”

“What?” Hongjoong squints, still trying to get his bearings.

“ There’s someone in the barn, ” Yunho whispers frantically, his ears laid flat. Realization washes over Hongjoong like a bucket of cold water. He sits up fast, glancing at the clock on his bedside table. 4:00 in the morning.

“What the fuck…?” Hongjoong mumbles, getting out of bed. He peeks out his window, open due to another warm night. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I can hear them. They’re in the chicken pen,” Yunho confirms, eyes piercing through the darkness.

“Shit.” Hongjoong scuttles out his room, trying to move quietly down the stairs. He doesn’t bother to turn any lights on in the kitchen, fumbling for his phone and a flashlight. He toes on some sandals and swings open the front door. He beckons Yunho to stay close and flies down the front porch.

The night sky is clear, twinkling with distant stars. If it weren’t for his current situation, Hongjoong wouldn’t mind stopping to stargaze. But pressing matters push him across the lawn, gravel crunching underneath his soles.

“Why is someone in my henhouse,” he grumbles, stumbling as his body tries to catch up with his mind.

“I think they’re eating the chickens,” Yunho provides, voice hushed with fear.

“ Noooooo ,” Hongjoong whines, sliding the red barn door open with force. He rushes in, clicking on the flashlight and shining it in through the chickenwire of the pen. The inside door is still closed and locked, meaning the intruder wiggled in through the miniature chicken door from outside. There’s already a ruckus of feathers and aggressive clucking, but all his chickens are cowering in the corner closest to them. Across the pen, near the small opening, a shadowed figure hunches over what looks like the carcass of an unlucky hen.

“Hey!” Hongjoong yells with a sinking suspicion. He levels the flashlight at the figure, which looks to be wearing all black with a hood over their face. Their head whips up and reflective eyes glare into Hongjoong’s and he gasps. Blood smears across the person’s masculine face, staining his dirty hoodie and dripping down his hands. His poor hen’s body is mauled and broken, already halfway eaten. Hongjoong mentally laments for his feathered friend, shaking his head and holding the flashlight as threateningly as he can.

“Stop that!” He yells again. Whoever he is, he’s not human, which means Hongjoong is lucky (or unlucky) enough to meet yet another hybrid. However, this one looks wild. A feral growl warns the human to stay away.

Yunho growls back, the first time since he met Hongjoong. The other flinches, dropping the dead chicken and pressing against the wall. The human guesses his plan of action right away.

“Hold on just a minute!” He shouts, bringing his phone into view. The hybrid snarls, inching closer to his exit. “Don’t make me call the pound on you!”

Everyone freezes. Hongjoong prays that Yunho recognizes the empty threat.

“Don’t do that.”

The voice is low but firm, surprising the two outside the pen. Hongjoong gulps, creeping closer to the inside door. The hybrid presses himself even more into the wall, but doesn’t make for the chicken door.

“Then don’t leave. The moment you exit that tiny door, I’ll send Yunho here after you and call the pound.” His threat is weak, but it’s the best he can come up with on the spot. Hongjoong hopes the other doesn’t call his bluff.

“What are you going to do to me?” He hisses, still frozen.

“I just want to talk, okay? I won’t snitch on you if you come out here and explain why you just killed one of my chickens.” Hongjoong briefly asks himself why he’s even bothering. He could just cut his losses and let the other go off into the night. But that doesn’t solve the underlying problem, or do justice for his traumatized hens.

Hongjoong hands the flashlight to Yunho. The boy sticks to his side while he unlocks the door with one hand. Still holding the other hand with the phone up, he opens the door and steps aside.

“Come on. I’m rather uncomfortable standing here, so would you be so kind as to come out of there?” He considers for a second and then tacks on, “I have better food inside for you than raw chicken.”

“H-Hongjoong!” Yunho protests, glaring at the intruder. 

“It’s fine,” he whispers, gently pulling him behind himself. The unknown hybrid frowns, slowly standing up. Hongjoong spots a long, black, fluffy tail with a white tip swishing behind him. The boy slinks through the straw, subconsciously rubbing the blood on his chin with a sleeve. He skirts around the edge of the opening, eyeing the open exit behind the two.

“Now will you follow me to my house? I promise I won’t call the pound if you do.”

The hybrid nods slowly, ducking his head so thick inky bangs cover half his face. Hongjoong backs up carefully, pushing Yunho to do the same. The human squeezes Yunho’s wrist, tilting his head discreetly. When Yunho catches on, he turns around, leading the hybrid out of his barn. While the dog hybrid enters in the chicken coop, Hongjoong pauses by the entrance, holding up a hand. The boy waits with him, the air tense. Not more than a minute passes, but it feels like an eternity.

Yunho quickly secures the door to the pen, carrying the carcass of Hongjoong’s chicken out of the fray. The rest of the chickens never ceased their clucking, running around as soon as the door locked. Yunho delicately brings the dead hen out of the barn, turning to Hongjoong for further guidance.

“I’ll have to burn her…” Hongjoong mourns, voice trailing off. “Just… set her down in the fire pit.”

Yunho dutifully walks off in the direction of Hongjoong’s bonfire pile in the corner of his yard. Meanwhile, Hongjoong beckons their mystery guest to the house. Honestly, he’s surprised the other hasn’t run off already.

The other pauses at the doorstep when Hongjoong pulls at the screen door. “Come on,” he urges, holding it for him. He pads in, eyes downcast and arms swaddled around his body. Hongjoong leaves the front door open for Yunho, kicking off his sandals.

“Please come here, so I can wipe the blood off your face and hands,” he explains, leading him into the kitchen.

“I can do it myself,” the other mutters, but still follows, causing Hongjoong to smile. The human fishes out a washcloth from a drawer near the sink, wetting it and holding it out for the other to take. He does, careful to not let their fingers brush, and blindly scrubs it over his face.

“What’s your name?” Hongjoong asks, leaning on the counter. He doesn’t answer at first, focused on his face and hands. When the human inclines his head, trying to meet his eyes, he leans away.

“San,” he utters, staring at his own dirty fingernails. “And you’re Hongjoong. The dog is Yunho.”

“You are correct,” Hongjoong chuckles, resisting the urge to reach out and take over in wiping the other’s face.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” San mumbles. “I killed one of your chickens. Shouldn’t you be mad?”

“Well,” Hongjoong sighs, “I normally would be livid, but I know you didn’t do that for no reason or to spite me. You climbed in there through the chicken door, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” San folds the bloodied washcloth in half and holds it out for Hongjoong to take.

“How did you get in from outside the pen? I thought I had it closed off completely with chicken wire.” Hongjoong takes the washcloth, running it under more water.

San squirms in place. “There’s a hole at the bottom somewhere and I was able to crawl under.”

“Was it small?”

“...Yes?” San answers, unable to see why Hongjoong is asking him these questions. The human nods to himself, squeezing out the washcloth.

“Then that means you were really desperate to get into my pen. No animal or human would go that far to take shelter, let alone eat a chicken. And to eat a chicken, now I don’t know much about hybrids, but I’m sure you would rather not eat a chicken like that, right?”

“...Right.”

“So you felt it was necessary to go that far, and for that, I forgive you,” Hongjoong concludes, stepping closer to the other.

San, too surprised to back away, stutters. “Just like that? You’re fine with me ruining something of yours?” His jaw slams shut the moment Hongjoong touches it with the damp cloth.

“Hold on, you missed quite a few spots…” Hongjoong mutters, internally rejoicing when the other doesn’t flinch away. “And no, I’m not fine with it. I’ll probably cry later when I have to burn one of my babies. But I forgive you.”

He pulls back as soon as he’s done, not wanting to test his boundaries too much. “Now, does that mean you’re getting away with this scot-free, absolutely not.”

Fear fills San’s onyx eyes and Hongjoong backtracks. “Wait, I won’t force you to do anything. I’ll figure it out later but for now, I just want to enjoy breakfast.”

He punctuates his sentence by pulling out his coffee pot and filling it.

Yunho comes in a moment later, scaring San two feet into the air. He jerks into the counter so hard his hood slips and reveals large pointed black ears. San quickly tugs the hood back over his head, moving slightly closer to Hongjoong as the dog hybrid walks into the kitchen.

“Please don’t tell me he’s staying,” Yunho whines, settling into his spot at the kitchen table. San bristles as Hongjoong continues to prepare their usual breakfast plus one.

“Yunho, this is San. He won’t be staying, but he will help me fix the pen to ensure no more break-ins occur,” Hongjoong decides. “San, do you like eggs?”

“What?” Both hybrids ask, with varying levels of incredulousness. 

“Hongjoong, he already ate--”

“I, um. Do like eggs, yes.”

“Wonderful,” Hongjoong says, ignoring Yunho’s protests. “San, can you please sit at the table with Yunho? I’ll be over shortly.”

“Hongjoong!”

“No.” He tunes out the other, pouring his own coffee. He scoops scrambled eggs onto three plates and brings them over. San awkwardly hunches opposite of Yunho who stews. They both brighten at the sight of food, thank goodness.

Yunho picks up his fork readily while San nudges the eggs with one finger. Hongjoong sits in between the tension, sipping at his coffee. He notices quite a few similarities in the two: both had trouble accepting a human’s help and adjusting to more human treatment. But unlike Yunho, who melted moments after Hongjoong took him in, San is ice cold.

“So, San. You’re a fox, aren’t you?” The human observes after a couple bites. He sighs when the other freezes, staring intently at a nick in his plate.

“How’d you know?” He asks quietly, tail swishing.

Hongjoong gestures at his hood and shaggy tail. “Your… features are different. And you’re quite removed compared to dear Yunho, here.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Yunho barks.

“You’re very energetic is all,” Hongjoong placates, placing a calm hand over Yunho’s. “Now, am I correct? Also you went for my chickens, and there’s a few animals that I can think of that break into hen houses.”

San’s gaze flickers to meet his. “You’re right. What are you going to do about it?” He asks, defiant.

“Nothing at all. I was just curious.” He finishes his breakfast, gulping down the rest of his coffee. Then he claps his hands. “So, here’s the plan for today.”

Both hybrids bristle.

“San, I’d like for you to help me fix that hole in my chickenwire. Once that’s taken care of, you’re free to go,” Hongjoong promises.

Wide onyx eyes blink at him. “Really? You’ll let me go, just like that?”

Yunho frowns, pushing his chair back and standing up. It screeches against the hardwood, causing him to wince. “Hongjoong, he killed one of your hens! You were so worried about them and you’re willing to just let it go?”

“ Yes ,” Hongjoong emphasizes, sighing heavily. “Please, I’d rather get this over and done with. I’m aiming to teach a lesson and reinforce that this shouldn’t happen again, okay?”

Yunho clearly wants to argue, but he ultimately lets it go, much to Hongjoong’s relief. He carefully stands up, pushing his chair in without fuss and delivering both his and Yunho’s empty plates into the sink. San continues picking at his, stopping when the human approaches him.

“I’m done,” he whispers, nudging the plate away.

“Alright then.” Hongjoong picks up the plate and motions for Yunho. The boy grabs the dish, wordlessly washing them. “Please, come with me.”

San follows him to the mudroom where Hongjoong prepares for their new task. He gathers all the tools he’ll need in a bucket, shoving it into San’s arms. Then he--still in his pajamas--pulls on his work boots and exits through the back door.

The sun has just risen, resting on the horizon before beginning its trek through the sky. The surrounding fields are blank, empty and dry after harvest. The outside part of the henhouse faces the morning sun, providing Hongjoong with ample lighting despite the early hour. Some of his hens are already out, chattering amongst themselves. He lets San drop the bucket near the fence, beckoning the other over. The hens shy away from his dark silhouette, cawing loudly.

“Where’s this hole you climbed through?”

San circles the wire, pointing at a subtle dip in the ground where the wire is pushed up. He pokes the small opening with his foot and it gives, revealing that the hole can be much wider. 

“I’m going to have to patch it,” Hongjoong groans. “Follow me, the extra wire is inside.”

He leads San to the barn entrance, sliding open the door. In truth, he could easily get the items himself, but he doesn’t trust the fox hybrid to not run off as soon as he’s out of sight. Hongjoong directs San to help him carry the rest of their materials out to the pen. He begins lecturing the other on what to do. It’s clear that San is regretting ever setting foot on Hongjoong’s farm. Good.

Yunho joins them within the hour, also in his pajamas. Though the days are progressively cooler, the sun beats down on them as they work together. Hongjoong wipes sweat off of his brow. The work is simple but tedious, occupying the three well into the rest of the morning. The wind picks up a little, ruffling their hair and drifting over the wide expanse of fields. 

Eventually, they finish around noon. Instead of patching the one hole, Hongjoong decided to reinforce the entire fence for good measure. He dusts off his hands, throwing the hammer into the dirt and turning. Yunho lays splayed out, the gold strands of his hair blending with the blades of tall grass. San sits further away, legs spread in exhaustion. He’s sweating much harder than the other two, the black fabric of his torn clothes soaking in the sun’s rays. Yet, the boy never shed his layers, the hood stubbornly fixed around his panting face.

“There,” Hongjoong huffs. “All done.” The chickens cluck in response, perhaps congratulating them.

“Finally,” Yunho murmurs, trailing his fingers through the grass. The human rolls his eyes at him, instead facing their guest. San’s eyes are vacant, staring vaguely at the ruddy barn wall.

“Well, you’re free to go.”

San’s attention snaps to Hongjoong in shock.

“Are you sure?” He asks, cautious as he rises from his spot. He shoves his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, feet dancing further at the prospect of freedom.

“I’m sure,” Hongjoong affirms, waving a hand. “Although,” he adds, noticing the hybrid’s eagerness to leave. “You’re welcome to come back anytime. I wouldn’t mind your company.”

He smiles at San’s reddening cheeks. The other rocks back and forth on his heels, internally debating something. Yunho rolls over onto his stomach, not bothering to sit up but still attentive. Hongjoong cocks his head, waiting patiently.

“...I’m sorry.”

“Hmm? What was that?” Hongjoong asks, grinning even more.

“ I’m sorry ,” San reiterates, fluffy tail swinging. He ducks his head again, hiding behind dark hair. “I’m sorry for breaking into your barn and eating your chickens. I didn’t mean to go so far but… I didn’t really have a choice.”

San swallows. “Also, thank you for your hospitality. You could’ve turned me in the moment you knew I was in your barn, but you didn’t. And you didn’t have to feed me. But you did. So thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Hongjoong replies, leaning from one genial foot to the other. San drifts further away, nearing the back corner of the barn.

“Goodbye,” San mutters, not looking back. He scampers off, disappearing behind the barn and away into the fields. Hongjoong stares at the cumulus clouds floating in the distance, sighing in content. After a moment, he turns around and meets a ruffled Yunho, who grunts in disdain.

“I don’t think you should’ve done that,” he admits, crossing his arms like a child.

“Nonsense. It was the right thing to do. It worked for you, didn’t it?”

Yunho sulks, unable to refute that. He slowly rises, brushing stray dirt and grass off of his body. He peeks around Hongjoong as if confirming that San really left.

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

Hongjoong tilts his head, gaze snagging on the blue horizon once more.

“I have a good feeling he will.”

Hongjoong laughs at Yunho’s scowl, reaching up and rubbing his head briefly. Despite the long face, Yunho’s tail wags at the motion. The human skips over to the bucket full of tools, hauling it up and swinging it as he walks to the front of the barn.

“Come on, let’s make some lunch.”

Yunho prances alongside, carrying the roll of wire. The two put away everything as fast as they can, bumbling through their clean-up process at the prospect of food. They travel up the steps of the porch, the screen door swinging. Hongjoong chances one last look at the fields beyond, searching for a black figure among the brown and green.

He’ll be back, Hongjoong reassures himself before disappearing inside.

Chapter Text

So please, tell me it's alright

In this anxious mist

It's all in a moment

So please,

If this is my way, hold my hand

So I don't wander for long

-“Mist”

Thick blankets of mist drape over the fields, obscuring vision past the property line. The first signs of autumn dot the few trees that decorate the yard. Passing days become slightly shorter and colder. Hongjoong sits out on his porch on a weekend, having woken up earlier than dawn. Changing seasons are always difficult for him; they bring onslaughts of allergies and aching joints as the weather and temperatures swing like a pendulum.

His inability to settle leads to sleepless nights. Sleepless nights lead to early mornings on the porch. He made sure not to wake Yunho as he tiptoed downstairs into the kitchen, filling a glass with water. He slipped on his sandals and almost forgot to grab his jacket before stepping outside. Then he sat, shivering slightly in his mother’s rocking chair, and surveyed what little he could see of his farm.

Hongjoong stares blankly for the most part, breathing in the fresh air and listening to the birds in the trees. He hears a crow somewhere, hopefully far from his garden. Squinting, he leans forward in a useless attempt to find it. Instead of catching a crow near his garden, he notices a black speck in the distance. He frowns, sitting back and taking a gulp of his water. The speck grows into a smudge, darting through the fog and slowly coming nearer.

A figure materializes from the smudge, dressed in a familiar tattered hoodie and black clothing. Hongjoong’s lips tug into a smile and he suppresses the urge to call out, letting the other notice on his own.

San bounds into view, skirting along the edges of the field towards the house. Reflective eyes catch the dim porch light and meet Hongjoong’s. The human smiles jovially and San freezes, contemplating what to do next. Clearly he hadn’t expected Hongjoong to be up so early. He slinks closer while the other sips at his water, patient.

“Good morning,” Hongjoong greets when San reaches the other side of the porch’s white wooden railing. The hybrid inclines his head, resting his arms on the railing. 

“I had a feeling you’d come back eventually,” Hongjoong says, chuckling. “It’s been a few weeks.”

“Actually, I’ve come through here multiple times. You haven’t been awake to see me,” San admits. The human’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Really? Yunho never mentioned that to me,” Hongjoong murmurs, leaning on his elbow. 

San shrugs. “I can be quiet.”

“So it seems.” The human frowns at his state of dress. “Do you have any other clothes?”

The hybrid grimaces, tugging at his overgrown bangs with one hand. “No. But I try to wash these in the river.”

Hongjoong glances in the general direction where he knows a river runs by, past both his and his neighbor’s fields. “That far? Do you have a little shelter over there? A log or tree stump in the woods?”

“Something like that.”

Hongjoong hums, finishing his glass of water. San shifts on his feet, awkward but not uncomfortable enough to turn tail and leave. The porch light glows between them.

“Have you eaten yet today?”

San shakes his head, a glint in his eye. Hongjoong grins, standing up at a leisurely pace.

“Would you mind joining us for breakfast again?”

“I was sort of hoping you’d ask me. Can I?” San asks timidly. Hongjoong isn’t sure if foxes wag their tails in happiness but he swears he can see the white tip of San’s swishing behind him.

“By all means,” Hongjoong assures, holding open the screen door. San bounds up the creaking steps, sidling past the human through the door. Hongjoong laughs at his actions, stepping in behind him. What a nice start to his morning after all.

Another weekend later, Hongjoong finds himself sitting on the couch in his quaint living room, a laptop sitting on his crossed legs. He props his arms on the decorative pillows, scrolling intently through several shopping sites. The internet and WiFi connection isn’t always great in rural parts, but it’s better than nothing. Yunho’s in the barn, routinely caring for their chickens. After burning the hen a month ago, the dog hybrid had been quite adamant about checking in on their feathered friends.

That leaves Hongjoong with a short amount of time to scroll through different retail websites, particularly their pet sections. He learned the hard way that the world still deems hybrids as less than human, shoved in the same category as animals despite their clear intelligence and mostly human appearance.

Which is precisely the reason Hongjoong is so worried. With Yunho (and perhaps San) becoming a permanent fixture in his life for the unforeseen future, he’s got to implement some fail-safes. Though he knows very little about hybrid rights and etiquette, he does know the basics, which include ownership.

Hongjoong shudders, loathing the idea of owning Yunho. But if someone were to stop by and notice, or if Yunho ever drifted outside of Hongjoong’s property lines, he’s got to be prepared. Of course, it’s not exactly legal in the first place and he doesn’t have any official papers. But the next feasible step is… 

A collar.

What better and painfully obvious way are pets identified? 

Which leads Hongjoong to comb through the pet supplies pages, trying to find the blandest strip possible that would get the job done. Of course, that’s not the only thing he’s done. San’s words have weighed on his mind and caused him to notice Yunho wearing the same two outfits for however long.

He’s got probably ten sets of clothing sitting in his online cart, oversized and ready to drain his wallet. Hongjoong doesn’t think the dog hybrid cares for certain styles, so he stuck with simple and plain colors. Although, being the secret fashionista he is, there are some printed tees, plaid jackets, and hoodies.

Hongjoong sighs to himself, clicking and dragging two black collars into his cart. Better to get it over with. He can always return them if Yunho refuses.

Right on time, the other boy clambers into the mudroom, the door swinging shut behind him. Hongjoong quickly maneuvers to the final buying page, typing in his card number. Yunho chucks his borrowed boots off, picking up a basket full of eggs and bringing it into the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” Yunho asks, ears perked in adorable curiosity. He sets the basket on the counter between the sink and the stove, meandering over to Hongjoong.

The human finishes his transaction just as Yunho comes up behind him, the screen resetting to the homepage of the store.

“Buying clothes? I thought you had a lot, or are all your drawers empty up there?” Yunho jokes, tail wagging.

“Sometimes I just like to browse,” Hongjoong defends, not quite lying. “I have designated work clothes and then I have my fashion clothes.”

“Right.” Yunho’s bright eyes survey the screen over Hongjoong’s shoulder. “Can I join you? I’m done with the chores.”

“Sure,” Hongjoong grins, scooting closer to the side of the couch. He knows how excited the boy gets with electronics; the first time Hongjoong had enough downtime to watch a random drama, he was absolutely captivated despite knowing nothing about it. 

Yunho vaults over the couch, landing heavily next to the human and bumping into him. He doesn’t bother to shy away anymore, snuggling in close and hooking his chin over Hongjoong’s shoulder. He reaches up and ruffles Yunho’s hair, briefly scratching behind the golden flap of his ears. They spend the rest of the afternoon like that, scrolling through various shopping sites together.

“Don’t forget the cartons in the fridge, too,” Yunho calls out, disappearing through the front door as Hongjoong checks the kitchen. He stacks the six dozen or so of egg cartons in his arms, closing the refrigerator door with his hip. He lowers the stack into a wooden crate, hefting it up and bringing it outside.

Yunho carefully slides the rest of the crates, also full of eggs, into the bed of his old teal truck. The vehicle is backed up between the house and the barn, almost loaded up on the gravel driveway. Today is another shipping day, where Hongjoong travels all across town to drop off his produce for the local groceries and markets. With the cooler weather, the demand for eggs has increased and he has less to spare for breakfast times, much to Yunho’s dismay.

Hongjoong lifts the final crate into place, pulling a tarp over to cover the produce. He swiftly secures it, closing the back of the truck up and dusting his hands. Yunho’s ears lift when the human turns.

“Good job,” Hongjoong says, grinning when the other’s tail wags. “I won’t be back for a while, so don’t worry too much. Unless, I don’t come back by tomorrow,” he jokes.

“Right,” Yunho responds, entirely too serious. Hongjoong huffs, twirling his keys and opening the door to the driver’s side.

“Play nice with San if he comes by, okay?”

Yunho pouts, crossing his arms and looking away. Hongjoong laughs, climbing into the driver’s seat and starting the truck. The hybrid startles at the loud grumble of the engine, backing away from the vehicle. Hongjoong closes the door, cranking the window down.

“I mean it! Don’t chase him off! Goodbye!” He shouts over the engine. Yunho nods, sulking back towards the porch. He waves as Hongjoong slowly drives down the rocky driveway, rolling onto the empty road.

He turns on his radio, switching it to the built-in CD player. A classic rock song filters in through the speakers, one of his father’s favorite albums. He has all of the old CDs lined up in the door of the passenger seat. Hongjoong settles in for the ride, cruising down the country road to his first destination, one of many.

The sky is gray, a muted wash of clouds still bright enough that he opts for sunglasses. The weather forecast on his phone calls for rain later in the day. He hopes he can get most of his deliveries in before the tarp becomes leaden with rainwater and every move is a hassle. 

Fields upon fields rush past him with the occasional small subdivision or family farm. His first stop is the closest, but it’s fairly rural compared to the rest of the town and county that he supplies. Which is why he doesn’t find it odd to see a silver car pulled over to the side of the road. Often, teenagers will overestimate how much gas they have for countryside trips and end up stranded. Or sometimes couples drive out and park off the road to have some alone time. He makes sure to give the car a wide berth as he passes, meandering into the other lane. He rights his course when he sees the car in his rearview mirror.

Hongjoong frowns as he watches the rapidly shrinking silver vehicle in his mirror. It’s fairly new and fancy, some name brand in a style unsuited for rural spaces. Definitely not from around here. What’s more, there was a small crowd of people outside of the car. And they did not look happy. He swears he saw some of them getting yelled at. Oh well, not his problem.

He continues on with his day, reaching all of his destinations safe and sound. However, the car and the people linger in the back of his mind. The whole scene felt out of place, like he stumbled on a movie set. Hongjoong completes his deliveries, mouth curving into a satisfied smile as he receives his checks. Soon enough, he’s done for the day, rolling back home, to Yunho. Maybe San, if he stops by for dinner.

Hongjoong sighs happily, fingers tapping on the steering wheel to the beat of the song. It’s a habit he picked up from his father. He switches on the windshield wipers to the lowest setting, noticing the sheen of a light mist covering his vision. The tiny droplets grow bigger and faster, soon building into the rainstorm his phone promised. The sky is much darker with the storm and approaching dusk.

His mind flits to the pulled-over car once again as he turns onto the final road home. Are they still there, in this rain? Or did they find backup in the time that he’s been gone? Hongjoong knows it’s the latter, but he slows down anyway, vowing to help them if he sees them again.

After five or so minutes of cruising under 50, he’s about to give up. Whoever was there is long gone, and if they were still stranded, Hongjoong must have missed them. He clicks his wipers up a notch, and that’s when he notices them.

A flash of white reflects from the truck’s headlights, alerting Hongjoong to someone up ahead. No wait, two people . He pushes on the brakes, almost jerking forward in his own haste. The white is on one of their legs, swishing back and forth, and—wait a damn minute. That’s a fucking tail.

Hongjoong curses but can’t convince his body to just drive past and forget it. He mentally berates himself the entire time, pulling closer to the shoulder of the road, the gravel making his teeth clack. He rolls to a stop beside the two, who thankfully pause to regard him. Two pairs of reflective eyes stare at him, the only thing he can make out in the indirect light of the truck’s headlights. He shifts into park, leaning over the seat to crank down the passenger window a little.

“Are you guys lost?” Hongjoong shouts over the rain. He can barely see them, the combined height of the truck and the ditch next to the road’s shoulder making it impossible to gauge them properly.

“Fuck off,” one of them yells from underneath a mop of curled black hair. Hongjoong swears he can spy a set of pointed dog ears. 

“I can help you guys. Do you have somewhere to be? ‘Cuz right now you’re going nowhere in this rain,” Hongjoong tries to reason. Why am I doing this? He asks himself.

The one who has not spoken turns to face the other, squeezing his shoulder. This person has long blond hair, almost white like his tail and pointed ears. The ears have large spots on them, and when he turns again, Hongjoong catches another discolored spot near his left eye.

“Why are you helping us?” The blond asks warily. It’s not the first time the human has heard that question. Yeah, Hongjoong thinks. Why are you?

He tries to shrug it off. “I wouldn’t want to be in the rain. And you two seem harmless. I promise I won’t hurt you, just tell me where you need to go, and I’ll take you.”

The two make eye contact with each other again, and Hongjoong knows a silent conversation when he sees one. After a moment, the blond reaches up and pulls at the passenger door. It swings open, the automatic interior lights blinking on. 

He climbs in the passenger seat, refusing to make eye contact. A glint of metal shines at the base of his neck as he settles in, revealing a choker of sorts. No, a collar.

Hongjoong can’t help his widened eyes as he detects another on the second hybrid, who gruffly sits on top of the first. They close the door, cramming as far away as they can from the human. He almost comments for them to put on a seatbelt but wisely refrains. Instead, Hongjoong turns on his blinker, shifting back into drive and slowly entering the road.

“Are you two lost? Where do you need to go?” Hongjoong asks politely, turning down his music. Their eyes flicker and the one with black hair answers quietly.

“The pound.”

Hongjoong balks, decelerating momentarily before recovering. “Wait, what? Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he mutters coldly. Hongjoong bites his bottom lip, absently turning the windshield wipers up another notch. The next minute is tense, Hongjoong mentally scrambling for what to say next.

“Uh, are you perhaps finding your… owner at the pound?” Hongjoong cringes at his own words.

The blond levels a glare that makes him shudder.

“Our owner ditched us,” he spits. “ Literally. ”

“Oh,” Hongjoong responds, voice small. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He turns his head to stare out the window, throwing up an air of aloofness that Hongjoong can see through. Despite his blank expression, his eyes glitter with unshed tears and his ears lay back in apprehension. A movement out of the corner of Hongjoong’s eye draws attention to their clasped hands, fingers interlocked in mutual emotional support. The black-haired boy looks smaller sitting on top of his friend, yet more defiant than him. 

“Still,” Hongjoong mutters, mostly to himself. He keeps his gaze on the long straight road ahead. The harsh rain patters on the roof of the truck. “The pound is the last place you want to go…”

Of course, his temporary companions overhead.

“What do you mean?” The smaller demands, free hand clenching on his knee. He leans forward a bit, attempting to intimidate the human.

“Uh,” Hongjoong scrambles for a proper explanation, splaying his fingers on the steering wheel. “Well, I have a friend. He’s a dog hybrid, uh, golden retriever to be exact. He told me that the pound is awful.”

“Where are we supposed to go, then?” Pale eyes bore into the side of Hongjoong’s head.

He gulps at the loaded question. Don’t do it, Hongjoong , he tells himself. Don’t give in. Don’t say it.

“You could come with me. At least get out of this rain for a while so you can figure out what to do next?”

Goddamnit, Kim Hongjoong.

The ensuing awkwardness makes him want to knock his head on the steering wheel. Rain gushes way too loudly in his ears along with the current track in his CD player. Hongjoong drums his fingers, not wanting to glance in the two hybrids’ direction.

“And if we say no?”

He sighs. “I will take you to the pound if you really want me to.”

The blond squeezes their conjoined hands. Another silent conversation ensues as Hongjoong lifts his foot off the gas pedal. When he starts to brake, turning on his signal, they both face him.

“Fine,” the black-haired one speaks for them both. “But remember, we outnumber you right now. If you decide to mess with us, we will not hesitate to fuck you up,” he growls.

Hongjoong’s breath stutters and he wonders if he’s making a huge mistake. After a moment he nods jerkily, turning the truck into his driveway. What perfect timing. Everyone is tense as the truck ambles over the bumpy pebbles, between the house and barn. He would drive it into the separated garage next to the house, but he doesn’t want to upset his new companions.

Through the navy blue murk and rain, warm lights shine from the windows. Even with curtains, Hongjoong can spy Yunho moving around in the living room. Oh no. The other was already mildly upset about San. How will he feel with two more strangers? He gulps. Only one way to find out.

“I don’t have an umbrella, sorry. You’ll have to just make a run for it,” he says, turning off the truck. He shoves the keys into his coat pocket along with his phone and throws a hood over his face. Opening the door, he slides out of the vehicle and closes it, quickly skirting around the front to open the passenger door.

The two hybrids don’t hesitate to leap out of their shared seat, giving the human a wide berth. Hongjoong beckons with his hands, racing to the porch. Thankfully, they follow close behind, shaking out their hair under the safe roof. He opens the unlocked front door and holds the screen door for them, ushering them in.

“Hongjoong! Welcome home…” Yunho’s bright voice trails away as he notices their guests. He stops his eager pacing in the living room, ears and tail drooping in confusion. Next to him, on the couch, a pair of wide black ears poke out. They quickly disappear under a familiar musty hood. San, who seemed somewhat comfortable a few seconds before, glares.

“Yunho! San! I, uh, hope I didn’t interrupt anything. Please meet my new friends…” Hongjoong winces, realizing his mistake. He sweeps his arms in a weak flourish, silently begging the two to speak.

“I’m Wooyoung,” the one with the black hair introduces. “And he is Yeosang.”

“Great!” Hongjoong claps once, grateful to finally have names. It’s not much, but it’s a step in the right direction. He pulls off his shoes and hangs his coat, fishing his phone out and putting it in his back pocket. He runs a hand through faded blue hair, not sure what to do next.

“You can take your shoes off here, if you want,” Hongjoong says softly. They do as asked, deliberately avoiding the other two hybrids near the couch.

“I’m leaving,” San mutters, slinking near the wall.

“Wait, please don’t leave. It’s raining pretty hard out there,” Hongjoong pleads, holding his hands up. “I’m so sorry this is short notice and I promise I’ll explain later, okay? But they needed to get out of this rain and I’m not letting you get a cold.”

San shares a glance with Yunho. The dog hybrid shrugs, still in unconcealed dismay. San nods slightly to Hongjoong and perches back on the patterned couch. The human’s brow furrows at the sight. Since when did those two get closer? Last he knew, Yunho was still pretty jealous of San.

“Anyway,” Hongjoong laughs nervously, shaking out of his train of thought. “Would you two like some dinner? Or would you like to dry off first?”

His eyes catch on Yeosang’s hand, which tugs insistently at Wooyoung’s striped sleeve. Now that they’re in better lighting, he can observe their state of dress, which is surprisingly better than what he’s seen Yunho and San in. Not only are their shirts patterned and their pants thicker material, but they each had a decent pair of athletic shoes.

“We’d like to have some space. No food. I’d rather not be more indebted to you than I already am,” Wooyoung decides, the last sentence spoken more under his breath.

“No-? No food?” Hongjoong stutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, follow me please.” He pads across the small space to the stairs, flicking on the light to the upstairs hall. 

“You two, stay there and I’ll be right back, okay?” He promises, looking towards Yunho and San. They both sulk on the couch, not answering.

He climbs the stairs, floorboards creaking under him only, and leads the two new hybrids down the hall to the only place he can think of: the spare bedroom.

He gropes for the light switch, accidentally turning on the overhead fan in the process. Off-white light fills the dusty room, the furniture bare and the bed made. It’s a stark contrast to the charming messiness of his own master bedroom, especially knowing this room used to be Hongjoong’s.

When his parents were still around, in their small generational house, he lived in this room. There are remnants of his younger presence like the dark blue walls and yellow plaid comforter. His old furniture is painted white, including the vanity mirror on one wall. However, it all has been empty for years, the surfaces coated in a layer of dust. Cadmium yellow, navy blue, and white pillows lay haphazard at the head of the bed. The white curtains are wide open, revealing the flat window of night beyond.

Hongjoong thought about giving the room to Yunho, but the other is content with him, so he gave up on the idea as soon as he came up with it. San never stays the night. Perhaps Wooyoung and Yeosang can find some use in it, even for one night. At least, he can provide shelter and privacy.

The human rounds the bed, closing the curtains on the other side of the room. He pulls the decorative pillows off and piles them in a corner, pushing the wrinkled sheets down some.

“Here, feel free to make yourselves comfortable. I think I have some towels for you guys…”

“That’s fine,” Wooyoung mutters, Yeosang still behind him. They inch into the room, eyes roaming the new space.

“We never got your name,” Yeosang adds, the first time he’s spoken since when they first entered his truck. Though not nearly as harsh as then, he still holds an edge in his voice.

“Oh, it’s Hongjoong.” He smiles as genuine as he can, slowly walking out the room. “If you need anything more, don’t hesitate to let me know. I’ll be downstairs.”

He closes the door behind him, leaving it cracked so they don’t feel locked in.

“Why does it sound like I’m using my customer service voice?” He asks himself, bounding down the stairs. He heaves a sigh of relief when he sees his two hybrids still waiting for him on the couch.

“It’s ‘cuz you are,” Yunho promptly answers despite being far away when he said that.

“Damn you and your super hearing,” he mutters.

“Hongjoong, what is your motive?” The dog hybrid asks, eyes narrowing in uncharacteristic suspicion. He tenses when the human comes closer. Hongjoong’s heart sinks. San shrinks into the couch, his chin resting on the back.

“Why do you keep collecting us like trading cards? Are you really doing it out of kindness? Or do you plan to sell us when you get the chance?” The fox adds. 

“What? I- no?” Hongjoong’s breath catches and he leans heavily on the railing. “Do you really think that?”

San’s arms wrap protectively around his torso and he looks away. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

“We don’t get it, Hongjoong,” Yunho tries. “I mean, you and I agreed on terms for me to stay here. But then you let San in. And while I’m not entirely okay with that yet, it’s easier than two completely new strangers.” He punctuates his sentence with a flung arm directed upstairs.

Hongjoong flinches at the motion, crossing his arms. “I swear, I don’t have an ulterior motive. I just-” He sighs heavily, running a fidgety hand through blue strands. “I can’t ignore someone in need. Especially if I can help it.”

“Do you pity us? Do you have some sort of savior complex?”

“No!” He yells, astounded.

“Then why exactly?”

Hongjoong bites down hard on his bottom lip, sinking down onto the first few steps of the stairs. Yunho stares, pleading, remaining a few paces away. 

“Listen,” he starts, taking in a deep breath. “I’m not quite sure myself, okay?”

San’s mouth opens but Hongjoong holds up a hand.

“I’ve been alone for a long time. I’ve spent a lot of nights wondering what to do with my life.” He pauses, gathering his thoughts. “I felt like something was missing, and then I met Yunho. Growing up, my parents always taught me to help others in need. Even though we agreed on a temporary living situation, helping Yunho has been one of the best decisions of my life. And San, even though you don’t stay here, I get happy when you come by, so I know that wasn’t a wrong decision, either. So… I guess I want to help those guys, too,” he admits. “They were kicked to the side of the road, in the rain, by their previous owners. I don’t expect them to stay at all.”

They’re quiet for a minute, mulling over Hongjoong’s words. Honestly, he’s surprised; he didn’t think he could explain his own feelings and actions to himself. He gnaws at his lip while the rain continues to pound outside, filtering in through the silence.

“Okay,” Yunho says softly. His eyes are fixed on the floorboards, swimming with guilt. “I’m sorry for assuming badly of you.” He holds his arms out tentatively, an open invite. Hongjoong gives a shaky smile, standing up and walking into the taller’s embrace, burying his face in his shoulder.

“I’m sorry too. I could’ve communicated better so this wouldn’t happen,” he says, voice muffled. Yunho’s soft laugh rumbles in his chest. He rubs his cheek on the top of the human’s head, ruffling his colored hair. Hongjoong peeks over his shoulder, making eye contact with San. Wordlessly, he holds his arm out, and the fox hybrid crowds in, gingerly joining their hug.

“Now,” Hongjoong starts, reluctantly pulling away after a few minutes and wiping under his eye, “Shall we have dinner?”

Hongjoong knocks on the door to the spare bedroom, carefully balancing a plate with one hand. When he hears a quiet “come in,” he prods open the door, the hinges squeaking. His two guests have made themselves somewhat comfortable, the sheets on the bed more wrinkled where they sit. It’s been a couple hours and Hongjoong is ready to throw in the towel, already showered and changed into his pajamas. It’s still early in the night, but the life of a farmer does not match the life of a night owl. The human sets down the dinner plate on the dresser, facing the two who become wary again in his presence.

“What’s that?” Wooyoung asks, still the spokesperson between them. Hongjoong glances at the arrangement of reheated ham and scalloped potatoes.

“Dinner.” He grins. “I insist.”

Wooyoung’s mouth thins, but he nods. “Thank you, I guess.”

“I came to tell you that I’m going to sleep soon. Yunho will be with me, so you don’t need to worry about stealing anyone’s bed. Although, I do have to warn you: if you try to do anything in the night, Yunho will hear you and wake me up.”

“We won’t leave this room,” Wooyoung promises.

“Uh, right. Well then, good night,” Hongjoong mutters, already inching towards the exit.

“Wait,” a new voice chimes. Hongjoong and Wooyoung’s heads both snap to Yeosang, who shrinks under their attention, his ears flattening. “I overheard your… conversation before.”

Hongjoong freezes, a thousand thoughts crashing in his mind.

“Uh, what exactly did you hear?” He settles on, shaking the anxiety out of his head and coughing.

“I heard enough,” he clips. The sheets bunch under his fingers as he avoids Hongjoong’s stare. “I’m sorry. If you need us to, we will leave.”

“Yeosang—!”

“Thank you for your consideration, but there’s no need. Please, I can’t just go back on my hospitality like that,” Hongjoong interrupts, ducking his head. Wooyoung glares a warning but Yeosang ignores him, sliding off the bed and creeping towards the plate. 

“Have you guys figured out what you’re going to do yet?” Hongjoong asks, lingering in the doorframe. Yeosang gives him a wide berth as he reaches the food, poking at the ham slices.

“No, not yet. But we won’t stay more than a day, I promise.” Wooyoung speaks up when Yeosang doesn’t answer. His pointed ears slant back, his body locked with tension as he eyes the distance between the human and his friend.

“That’s alright,” Hongjoong reassures, coughing a little. “We can talk more in the morning. Good night.”

“Good night,” Yeosang mumbles, mouth full of ham. Wooyoung’s eyes track Hongjoong as he backs out, cracking the door behind him again.

The human lets out a level breath, calming the nerves that restricted his lungs at Yeosang’s revelation. He shuffles down the small hallway, flicking off the lights as he descends the stairs.

San and Yunho sit together on the couch, watching a random drama on Hongjoong’s laptop. He’d given it to distract them while he checked on Wooyoung and Yeosang. Of course, he made sure all other tabs and shopping escapades were closed out before he handed it over. Yunho, now familiar with the device, had easily opened a streaming service and eagerly shown San. 

“I’m going to bed, guys,” he announces. “San, you’re more than welcome to stay for the night. You can just take the couch. Please?”

San squints in thought, hands scrunching the plush green blanket draped over his and Yunho’s laps. The other pauses the video, turning his puppy eyes on the fox hybrid.

“Okay,” he sighs, reaching over and tapping the spacebar. Hongjoong smirks at the slight blush on San’s face as he focuses way too much on the screen. Yunho gives the human an unsubtle thumbs up and he chuckles.

“Good night. Please don’t stay up too late.”

They wave without looking, absorbed in their drama. He smiles softly at the sight. San reaches up to pull down his hood, letting dark wide ears pop out. He runs fingers through his greasy messy hair, gingerly resting his head on Yunho’s shoulder. Hongjoong stifles a laugh as Yunho’s floppy ears perk up significantly; if the boy wasn’t sitting on it, Hongjoong is sure his tail would be wagging like crazy.

He tiptoes back upstairs, falling into his bed. As an afterthought, he gropes for the lamp, switching it off and basking in the darkness. He’s exhausted, yet again, from another hybrid encounter. He shivers a little, the temperature just cool enough that he pulls the sheets high over his body. Almost instantly, he falls asleep.

The next morning, he finds both Yunho and San at the end of his bed, curled together under the dark blue crocheted blanket.

Chapter Text

I always wanted you to take care of me

The moment I’m alone, it’s hard for me

When the memories that kept my side of me collapsed one by one,

I thought everything around me was going to disappear

-“My Way”

October is perhaps Hongjoong’s favorite month of the year. The fields are fallow and the trees are varying shades of orange and brown. Brisk wind dances across the flat landscape, sneaking into the cracks of the house. The sun retires earlier in the evening. Hunting season is in full swing, and the fridge is stocked with food. The fireplace in his living room finally is used, stocked with firewood. He can bust out his collection of sweaters, reluctantly sharing the oversized ones.

A lot has happened in the past few days, changing his life as fast as the leaves changed on the trees.

Wooyoung and Yeosang broke their promise of staying one night. Granted, Hongjoong persuaded them to. The morning after he took them in, he woke bright and early. The sun isn’t up yet. He finds San and Yunho together at the end of his bed, underneath swaths of blankets. He couldn’t help the growing fond smile on his face as he tiptoes around them. The mound stirs when the floorboards creak under his feet and he quickly dashes out of his room before the two can truly wake up.

Being the only one up and active leaves for free time and a faux sense of being alone. As much as Hongjoong appreciates his current company, he’s used to having an entire house to himself. The kitchen sits in the early morning gloom of mid-fall, comfortably dark and blue. He starts his pot of coffee, as usual. The only light in the kitchen comes from the red blinking power button of the coffee pot and the digital clock on the stove. He closes his eyes, breathing in the aroma deeply and leaning on the counter with his elbows. He spends the next few minutes in serenity, waiting patiently for his morning fix.

When it’s ready, he pours into a chipped mug and pads out the kitchen and into the living room. He grabs his phone off its charging port on the way. The weather is much too cold to bother sitting out on the porch, so he makes do with the couch. As he settles down, he prematurely sips at his steaming coffee, accidentally burning his lips. With a silent jerk, he sets the cup down on the table, rubbing at his sore mouth. Sighing, Hongjoong falls back on the cushions, snuggling in sideways and tucking his feet under himself. He opts to open a social app on his phone, mindlessly scrolling through what his old peers in high school and college posted. He gets bored after a few minutes, letting his wrist fall and head roll back on the throw pillow. He allows his eyes to rest, zoning out for a few seconds or minutes.

The next thing he knows, he’s fallen asleep. When he wakes again a short while later, it’s to a quiet commotion. The creak of the stairs combined with the lighter room rouses him from his light nap. The sun had barely come up, blinding as the bare trees outside the window provided no shade. Hongjoong squints, closing his eyes against the glare and shifting away. What he discerns as footsteps halt for a second and Hongjoong frowns, going slack.

“Is he asleep?” The somewhat familiar voice sounds out, a whisper that if not for the stillness of the house, Hongjoong is sure he would not hear it. He focuses on keeping his breaths even as he’s being checked on by the mysterious company.

“I think so,” another voice confirms, much closer. He can feel the presence of someone hovering over him. “We can go now. Thank you, Hongjoong,” he adds as an afterthought. In an instant, the human understands his situation. The louder person backing away from the couch was Wooyoung, and the other is Yeosang. They are in the midst of leaving without notice. Hongjoong fights to keep his facade of slumber, heartbeat in his throat as he debates whether to stop them or not.

Before he can come to a decision, another voice cuts in, this one drowsy and familiar.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Yunho asks.

Hongjoong wishes he could see past the red of his eyelids, but he wisely refrains from looking, listening in on the ensuing conversation instead. 

“The pound,” Wooyoung answers, guard up.

Yunho balks. “Why would you ever want to go there?”

“We‘ve overstayed our welcome,” Yeosang explains, his soft deep voice hard to hear from the couch. “Maybe we’ll find someone more professional and experienced with hybrids to help us.”

Yunho laughs incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding me. The people there don’t know shit.”

Hongjoong reminds himself not to react to the sudden swearing. He bites at the inside of his cheek, wondering when to butt in.

“How would you know? It’s our best bet,” Wooyoung shoots back defensively.

“You… you two don’t have a plan at all,” Yunho realizes.

“So what if we don’t?”

“You don’t get it,” he stresses. “ Hongjoong is your best bet, not the pound.”

“But you don’t want us here,” Yeosang murmurs.

“I— no,” he sighs, frustrated. “You’re right, I don’t. But I don’t want you two to get into trouble if I can help it. Trust me, you don’t want to end up there.”

“What are we supposed to do then? Stay here?” Wooyoung shouts. Immediate silence follows as if he realizes his volume. Hongjoong holds his breath, feeling the thick tension in the air.

“Yes,” Yunho says after a moment.

“But that’s not up to you, right? It’s up to Hongjoong,” Yeosang speaks up again.

“You’ll have to ask him, but I’m sure he’s already accepted you,” Yunho says, resigned.

“Do we wake him up then?”

That’s his cue. Hongjoong bites his lip, about to give up his position but a presence next to his ear prematurely shocks him out of it.

“Oh, he’s awake. Probably has been for a while.”

“Oh fuck—” Hongjoong curses, eyes flying open as his whole body jumps. San stares innocently up at him from his kneeling spot next to the couch. “When did you get there?”

“I’ve been watching you for a few minutes,” the fox informs with a cheeky smile and perked ears. He leans back as Hongjoong sits up. The human rubs at his tired eyes, twisting his torso to peer at the others over the back of the couch.

“Yes, I heard everything,” he admits. Yunho doesn’t look surprised while the other two appear scandalized.

They’re wearing the same wrinkled clothes as the night before, haggard in both appearance and stance. They huddle together, Wooyoung standing slightly in front of Yeosang protectively. His eyes catch on their intertwined hands.

He sighs, reaching to the low table and picking up his now-cold coffee. He takes a few unhappy sips before continuing.

“Like Yunho said, you’re welcome to stay. On a few terms.”

Wooyoung frowns, his free hand bunching up the striped fabric of his shirt. “What terms?”

“Yunho doesn’t stay here for free. He has to help me around the farm. In exchange, he gets food and shelter. I can offer the same to you. After all, I always need more helping hands.”

“What about San?” Yeosang pipes up, peeking over Wooyoung’s shoulder.

Hongjoong glances at the mentioned boy, who avoids eye contact but hasn’t moved away from him. “Well, he comes and goes. He doesn’t usually stay.”

San scratches behind his exposed ears. Hongjoong feels a sliver of excitement as he realizes how comfortable San has become around him. But back to the matter at hand.

“Uh, so,” he continues, fiddling with the blue strands of his bangs. “It’s your choice. Will you join us?”

Wooyoung and Yeosang look at each other. Another silent conversation ensues between them, lasting a few seconds. Eventually, they both look at him and nod.

“Okay. We’ll stick with you, but only because Yunho swears you’re our best bet,” Wooyoung affirms. Hongjoong can’t help the glad smile that breaks across his face.

“Thank goodness.” He rises from the couch, taking his full mug with him. “I’m hungry. Let’s have breakfast. We can talk more then.”

He breezes past all the hybrids, moving into the open kitchen. Despite the rising sun, he still needs to turn the light on over the stove as he prepares the usual eggs.

“Sannie, are you going to be eating with us?” He asks while rummaging through the cupboards.

“Um. I guess I can,” comes the delayed response; the other thought it over quite a bit.

“Great. All of you can sit at the table while you wait,” he says cheerfully, pulling a carton of eggs out. “Oh, and if you’d like coffee, I have a pot made still.”

“Don’t do it,” Yunho warns, sitting at his designated spot. “That stuff’s nasty.”

“What’s it taste like?” San asks, sliding into the chair next to him.

“It’s really bitter. Like dirt.” Hongjoong sees the two of them make faces at the idea and he stifles a snort.

“Yeosang likes bitter things,” Wooyoung blurts. All eyes go to him and he shies away, still near the front entrance with Yeosang, who glares daggers at his friend.

“Is that so? Yeosang, would you like to try?” Hongjoong asks softly, gesturing to the coffee pot. “If not, I can make tea.”

“Please do! Can I have chai again?” Yunho asks, tail wagging in anticipation. San is intrigued, glancing between Yunho and Hongjoong.

The human giggles. “Alright, I’ll make some tea as well. Please, sit down.”

He directs the last part to the two still standing as he pulls out the tea kettle. They slowly slink over, occupying the last two open chairs opposite of San and Yunho.

The next few minutes are awkward as Yeosang, Wooyoung, and San sit silently while Yunho attempts to have a conversation with himself. Hongjoong is too busy making breakfast for five people to engage with the poor puppy.

“Oh, you guys haven’t said what kind of hybrids you are,” Yunho realizes at one point. Hongjoong pauses in flipping an egg, also curious about his new friends.

“I’m a dog. A golden retriever. San’s a fox… you don’t have to tell us, I guess,” Yunho adds.

“I’m also a dog,” Wooyoung admits. “I’m a purebred corgi of some kind. I don’t really know.”

Yunho’s eyes light up at the knowledge of another dog. “So that’s why I can’t see a tail.”

“Yeah. It’s small but it makes it easy to fit in clothes and stuff,” Wooyoung laughs nervously. His grey eyes shift to Yeosang, who fidgets in his seat.

“I’m a cat.” He gestures to his spotted face and delicate ears. “A calico. Apparently, I’m really rare.”

Hongjoong frowns at the extra tidbit of information. If Wooyoung and Yeosang were such rare and fancy breeds, why did they end up on the side of the road?

He’s not the only one with that train of thought.

“Why did your owner ditch you then…?” Yunho mumbles, clearly trying to keep his thoughts to himself. Both of them tense, but they don’t seem surprised.

“Yeosang… did some stuff to piss off our owner. He was threatened to be kicked out and I wasn’t going to let him be alone, so I went with him,” Wooyoung explains, black ears laid back.

“What kind of stuff—“

“Okay, breakfast is ready!” Hongjoong interrupts, sending Yunho a warning look. Yeosang gives him a grateful glance, still fiddling with his fingers.

Hongjoong takes a few trips to set out all the plates, arranging each of them to have eggs and an apple on the side.

“They’re in season,” he explains, noticing San poking at the fruit. The tea kettle whistles just in time, scaring all four hybrids. The human mutters apologies as he pours four mugs with chai tea bags. He re-heats his own mug of coffee in the microwave. After a second thought, he pulls another mug out (thank goodness for his mother’s collection of ceramics) and fills that one with more coffee.

When they’re all situated, Hongjoong stands at one end of the wooden table, all other chairs taken. He slides the extra mug of coffee next to Yeosang’s tea before starting to eat standing up.

“Hongjoong! You don’t have to stand there, let me—“ Yunho protests, already shuffling out of his chair. The human waves a hand, nonverbally pushing him back into his spot.

“I don’t mind. There’s extra chairs in the basement, I’ll bring them up sometime today.” The boy pouts, obediently staying and picking up his fork.

Hongjoong munches at his apple, resting his weight on one foot as he surveys the others. Wooyoung and Yeosang, careful and deliberate in their actions, are no strangers to cutlery and silverware. His brow furrows as he wonders what kind of background they have.

“Is this for me?” Yeosang timidly asks, bringing Hongjoong out of his thoughts. He’s pointing at the coffee that sits untouched next to his barely touched tea.

He hums in acknowledgment. “Wooyoung did say you like bitter things. I made enough for you to try. Don’t worry, if you don’t like it, I won’t hold it against you.”

Emboldened by his reassurance, Yeosang gingerly picks up the mug, bringing it to his nose and breathing deeply. 

He takes a tentative sip, mulling it over with a blank expression. His white ears perk up and his eyes brighten after a moment. Hongjoong smiles.

“Do you like it?”

The calico nods, hands wrapped around the warm ceramic as he sips more of the drink. Wooyoung squints at him, making sudden grabby hands for the coffee.

“I wanna try!” He declares, snatching it out of Yeosang’s grip. He ignores both Hongjoong and Yunho’s warnings, going for a large gulp. Immediately he’s coughing, slapping a hand over his mouth. 

Yeosang levels a smooth glare at him, pulling the mug back to him. He coolly finishes the coffee while Wooyoung hacks away next to him, sticking his tongue out dramatically.

“Fuck, that’s disgusting! How could you like that?!” He cries, sloppily picking up his tea and downing it. “Ugh! I can’t get it out of my mouth!”

“I told you!” Yunho whines. Hongjoong can’t help but laugh, clutching at his side and leaning heavily on the table.

“Gosh, that was hilarious,” he sighs, sobering some. San quietly giggles into his hand.

The rest of the meal is light-hearted. Small conversation is made between them as they finish their plates. San thanks him for the hospitality, disappearing out the front door for the day. He cleans up their dishes as the rest keep talking. Eventually, Hongjoong returns to the table with a fresh cup of coffee. He spends the next hour or so describing the same terms he gave to Yunho, answering their questions as best he can.

“Where will we sleep?” Wooyoung presses.

“In the spare bedroom is fine.”

The dog hybrid’s gaze slides to Yunho, whose jiggling knees signal his impatience.

“How come he gets to sleep with you?”

Hongjoong chokes, not expecting that. Yunho’s head tilts cutely.

“Uh, because he wanted to?”

“Do we really just help you around the house and stuff? That’s it?” Wooyoung asks, switching questions like lightning. Yeosang stares longingly at Hongjoong’s coffee.

“Yes. You will be more than helpful here, I’m sure of it,” Hongjoong says, repressing a sigh. He wordlessly slides his half-finished drink to the cat hybrid, whose face lights up adorably.

“You promise?” He demands. Hongjoong laughs under his breath at his insistence. He holds out a small pinky across the table, glancing between the two who still watch him with wary eyes. 

“I promise.”

Wooyoung’s timid pinky wraps around his, sealing the deal. After a moment, Yeosang reaches over and wiggles his finger in, too.

And for the first time, Hongjoong sees a smile bloom on their faces.

A package arrives at Hongjoong’s doorstep a week later. He completely forgot about it until Wooyoung screeched at him from across the yard. The human ceases in his maintenance of the chicken coop, ambling to the entrance and leaning against the barn door. Wooyoung bounds across the gravel, face lit with excitement as he hoists a large cardboard box.

The two assimilated surprisingly well, watching Hongjoong and Yunho do their work like hawks. They never complained and never asked for more help. Slowly, they opened up more with each passing day, and Hongjoong gets a glimpse of their true personalities behind the lowered guard.

Wooyoung is rambunctious. He leaps from place to place, unable to sit still and providing free entertainment. Once he realized Hongjoong wouldn’t scold him, he became unapologetically loud. Despite this, he’s a hard worker and doesn’t hesitate to come back to Hongjoong and ask to do more.

Yeosang is completely opposite. Unlike his canine friend, he remains reserved and quiet, choosing instead to linger in the corner of Hongjoong’s eye. He never strays far from the others, always in the same room. He finishes all his chores in calculated silence.

At first, Hongjoong couldn’t fathom how the two were friends, but now he sees why. They are like two sides of the same coin, a relationship that ascends words. Wooyoung is boisterous, defending and speaking for Yeosang. Yeosang tamps down Wooyoung’s excitement, mellowing out his sharp edges. Together they function in ways that Hongjoong has never seen.

Hongjoong blinks back to the present, grinning at the corgi as he approaches.

“You got a delivery,” Wooyoung announces. Hongjoong can’t see it, but he thinks the other’s tail is wagging underneath his clothes.

“I can see that,” he chuckles, dusting off his knees. He shivers as the chilly autumn air drifts into the barn. “Want to go in the house and open it?”

Wooyoung bounces on his feet, wasting no time following the human across the yard and up the porch. Hongjoong props the door open for him and the boy squeezes past, dumping the large box onto the kitchen table. Yeosang peeks from the doorway of the laundry room, curious. He abandons his post of loading up the washing machine, slinking into the kitchen. Yunho is somewhere in the fields, gradually planting the last of their winter crop.

“What is it?” Yeosang asks, his pale eyes riveted to the cardboard. Hongjoong fishes out a pocket knife from a drawer, cutting through the tape.

“Clothes,” he answers, Wooyoung’s excitement infecting him as well. Yeosang hums, absently tugging at the hem of his borrowed sweater. Unlike Yunho, who barely fits in Hongjoong’s oversized clothes, the two match Hongjoong closely. He’s resorted to wearing his fashionable clothes and giving everything comfortable to them.

“Are they for you?” Wooyoung asks, digging his fingers into the gap and prying open the cardboard.

“No, actually,” he admits, smiling at their surprise. 

“You didn’t…” Wooyoung trails off as he pulls out plastic bags full of plain colored shirts. Yeosang joins in, picking out some hoodies.

“They were originally for Yunho and San, but I figure you guys would need some, too.”

“Can we?” Wooyoung holds up the unopened bags. Hongjoong nods and he rips it open, spilling the garments over the tabletop. 

“Some of these are for San, so don’t take them,” he says, pushing a black tank top, hoodie, and a hat out of the way. The two empty the contents of the box, spreading them out on the floor. Once they get to the bottom, Yeosang freezes. He reaches in, lifting out a small bag. Something long and thin is wrapped within, and Hongjoong’s heart sinks in realization.

The collars.

He completely forgot he bought them. To be honest, he repressed the memory as soon as he confirmed the purchase, clearing his history and closing the laptop. But now it’s suspended between Yeosang’s shaking fingers, and oh fuck. This is bad.

Wooyoung whirls on him, anger and disbelief apparent on his face. He rounds the table, standing protectively next to his friend. Yeosang drops the small bag as if it burns him, his delicate ears laid flat in apprehension. 

“I can explain,” Hongjoong yelps, putting his hands up. They narrow their eyes but stay still, letting him speak.

“This is not what it looks like, I swear,” he emphasizes. “It’s a fail-safe.”

Yeosang’s hand unconsciously rubs at his neck. The two abandoned their own the day they decided to stay, but instead of throwing it in the trash, Hongjoong has seen it sit untouched on the dresser in the spare room.

“I don’t like the idea, either. But I want you guys to be safe.”

“Weren’t we already?” Wooyoung asks, his voice cracking. 

“In theory.” Hongjoong tries to keep his own voice from wobbling. “I promise, as long as you guys stay here and I am around, nothing should happen.”

“But…?”

“But I’m not alone around here. This isn’t some utopia separate from the rest of the world. People come by and they’re not always tolerant. I don’t know where you guys were previously, but in rural areas, people are less accepting. I don’t want you to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

He picks up the bag, shaking the contents out into his palm.

“I also don’t want to have something happen, and I have no choice but to take you to a hospital or something. Because you being undocumented hybrids means I can’t protect you legally. This–” he shakes the incriminating fabric “–is a slight chance for me to keep you all from ending up somewhere horrible.”

He drops the collar onto the table, sighing heavily.

“You don’t have to wear it. It’s just there if we run into someone.” Hongjoong looks sharply between them. “And if we do run into someone, please let me do the talking.”

Wooyoung gnaws at the inside of his cheek, contemplating Hongjoong’s words. 

“Okay,” Yeosang mutters after a heavy moment. “I believe you.”

The human exhales shakily. He separates the collars from the pile of clothes, tossing them into the drawer along with the pocket knife. He bought two, so if he counts Yeosang’s and Wooyoung’s discarded ones, he has just enough.

“Okay,” he huffs, trying to improve the mood. “Yeosang can you add these to the laundry?”

The cat hovers, glancing between the human and his friend and wordlessly gathering the shirts and pants into his arms. Wooyoung goes to help him, deciding their conversation is over. 

Hongjoong nods to himself, tapping his fingers on the kitchen counter. He decides to get back to work, heading out the front door.

Yunho waits for him at the bottom of the porch, his brown eyes staring almost through him. His clothes are dirtied from the fields and there’s a smear of mud on his cheek. Hongjoong jumps, another swing of emotions wracking his body as he calculates what to tell Yunho.

“How much did you hear?” He settles on, fiddling with his own fingers.

Yunho sighs, crossing his arms. “I came in just as you started explaining. Don’t worry, I trust you.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widen. He didn’t expect that. “Y-you do?”

Yunho huffs a laugh, scratching behind an ear. “Of course. I mean, I was scared at first, but I get what you mean. Back at the pound…”

He hesitates, a faraway look entering his face as he recalls unpleasant memories.

“At the pound, hybrids would come in without identification. They were never able to leave on their own, no matter how much they begged or insisted on an owner.” Yunho shivers. “I don’t want that to happen to me, or to them, or even to San. Especially after meeting you.”

Hongjoong rubs at the spot on his chest that suddenly hurts. He searches for what to say, but Yunho beats him to it, smoothing over his worry.

“The fieldwork is done, by the way.”

The human sighs in relief, glad that their heavy conversation is over. Back to business. Yunho turns to leave, but Hongjoong calls out one more time.

“Hey, I never got to say this, but,” he laughs a little, running a hand through the back of his hair. “I’m really proud of you. Thank you for convincing them to stay, even if you didn’t want them to.”

Yunho ducks his head, a furious blush blooming across his cheeks.

“It was the least I could do,” he mutters. The dog hybrid skips away and Hongjoong grins, stepping down the porch and back to the barn.

Halloween approaches before Hongjoong has time to think about it. It’s his favorite holiday, and yet the days tend to blend together. The weather grows colder day by day and winter chill starts to creep into the house. That evening, he persuaded the others to take a break and celebrate with him. While they didn’t have any costumes, Hongjoong did have other activities planned. He had some pumpkins in his garden to carve and he also saved some recipes on caramel apples. It could be a nice bonding experience for his residents, and San, if he stopped by.

The wild fox hasn’t been around lately, which worried Hongjoong. Neither head nor tail has been spotted since he left the morning Yeosang and Wooyoung stayed. His new clothes lay clean, folded, and untouched by the laundry room door. He asks Yunho if he had heard anything in the night, but the other shrugs. Hongjoong hopes he hasn’t gotten into any trouble, and always looks out the window when he wakes up in the morning. Perhaps he’ll come tonight, to join them in their small party.

There was an attempt to decorate by the human. Little tissue paper ghosts hung on strings taped to the ceiling. Orange and black ribbon wrapped around the railing of the stairs. His scented candles were always lit in the evening, filling the house with the smells of smoky woods or pumpkin spice. He had to refrain from the apple one after receiving many complaints the first night that the scent hurt the hybrids’ noses. Something about the synthetic sourness made their eyes water. The fireplace was also used more often, the cozy warmth drawing all of them to camp in the living room sometimes.

The fire was going tonight as well, Hongjoong checking the flames and chucking another log in. He had some Halloween playlist going on his portable speaker in the kitchen, the tinny evil laughter keeping the Halloween spirit alive. Hongjoong laughs to himself, basically skipping into the kitchen as he looks over the recipe for caramel apples. Yeosang is not as amused, a tiny knife held in his hand as he stabs a small pumpkin.

“That is so annoying,” he whines, giving the human his cutest stare. “Can you please change it?”

“What? It’s fun, though,” Wooyoung opposes, bouncing in his chair next to him as he scoops out pumpkin gunk with his bare hands. Some seeds fall onto the newspaper that covers the kitchen table. Yunho nudges the bowl of seeds closer to Wooyoung’s hands. Hongjoong snorts but obliges, skipping the current corny song.

“Aww,” Wooyoung groans while Yeosang preens. He goes back to stabbing his pumpkin, the only one completely clean. Hongjoong used it to teach the others how to carve and Yeosang decided he didn’t want to do any dirty work. Wooyoung is still cleaning his while Yunho has just finished drawing on his stencil. Hongjoong circles the table, which now has two extra chairs, and peers over Yunho’s shoulder.

“Nice design,” he remarks, and Yunho beams. Hongjoong ruffles his hair, petting behind his soft ears as he studies the pumpkin. The dog hybrid went for the classic triangle eyes, but the smiling mouth was full of stitches. Yeosang’s was much cuter, complete with a little carved body and flower coming out of its head.

“It’s Hehetmon,” the boy explains as if Hongjoong is supposed to know. The human hums, lifting a hand and mindlessly petting his white hair. The other freezes and Hongjoong realizes what he did, but before he pulls away, Yeosang continues as if nothing is wrong. Wooyoung silently watches them but doesn’t remark.

Hongjoong clears his throat, breezing past the moment and moving over to the other side of the table.

“Are you going to make one?” Wooyoung asks, craning his neck to talk as Hongjoong glances over his progress.

“Maybe. I want to make some food, first.”

“Come on,” Wooyoung pleads, scooting his chair over a little. “At least help me?”

“All right.” Hongjoong rolls his eyes. He grabs the open chair next to him, pulling it out. Wooyoung grins. “So what kind of design were you thinking of—“

Before he can sit down or even finish his sentence, a loud bang ricochets through the air.

Immediately, all four of them are on their feet, scared out of their minds.

“What the fuck was that?” Wooyoung hisses, his black ears laid back in alarm. Yunho locks eyes with Hongjoong, a sneaking suspicion crossing both of their faces.

“It came from outside,” Yunho informs. They wait for a few tense moments, the happy music of Hongjoong’s speaker contrasting with the heavy mood. Hongjoong opens his mouth again—

Bang! Bang!

More loud sounds. Dread pools in Hongjoong’s gut. Those are gunshots .

It’s most likely his neighbors, he tries to reason with himself. They sometimes shoot at animals to warn them off or kill pesky coyotes. They also like to use beer cans as targets in the fields. He prays it’s the latter. After all, what could they possibly be shooting at tonight? 

The dread turns into icy fear.

San .

“Whatever you do, do not leave this yard,” Hongjoong orders. “Fuck it, don’t even leave the house .”

Yunho follows Hongjoong as he flies to the front door and wrestles on his boots and coat.

“What are you going to do?” The dog hybrid demands, his rushed words making Hongjoong pause.

“I’m just going to check the perimeter. I’ll be right back, I promise,” he reassures.

The last thing he sees before wrenching open the front door is his friend’s frightened face framed by the warm yellow light of his kitchen. 

Hongjoong rushes down the steps, coughing at the sudden influx of cold air. He activates the flashlight on his phone, waving it to the ground. His movements are caught by his barn’s motion sensors and the yard floods with cold white light.

The human stumbles over to the side where he knows his neighbors are. Subconsciously, he feels the eyes of the hybrids boring into his back from the house. He squints into the shadows. Unfortunately, in the night, he can’t see further than a few feet into the fields. The desaturated horizon is barely discernible in the distance; how is he supposed to see anything?!

“San?” He calls out, feeling very stupid. The chill creeping underneath his open coat is not just from the late autumn wind. Worst-case scenarios run through his mind again and again. He has to remind himself to stay sane and focus on the task at hand, scanning the flat expanse before him.

“San!” He tries again, cupping his hands around his mouth. His breaths puff up in his face. Just as he’s given up, movement catches his attention. Was that his mind playing tricks on him? He pulls at his hair in frustration, waving his phone flashlight.

Something blinks in the night.

“Hongjoong!”

The human gasps in relief. San’s voice carries in desperation, his wild eyes reflecting in the light. His clothes are much more haggard than usual as he stumbles across the uneven dirt.

“San! Thank goodness, are you okay—?!”

“Hongjoong-no… I’m… please,” San cries out breathlessly, collapsing into Hongjoong’s arms. He yelps at the sudden weight, struggling to keep the fox on his feet. Up close, Hongjoong can see dirt smeared on his face and blood caked under the nails that dig into his arms.

“San, are you alright?” Hongjoong asks, ducking his head to try and see his eyes through his bangs. “Please tell me you’re not shot!”

The other violently shakes his head, his ears almost smacking the human in the face. His death grip tightens even more on Hongjoong’s limbs.

“No! I’m not the one who’s hurt. I’m fine! It’s—“

He whips around, glancing between Hongjoong and something still hidden in the dark.

“Are they after you?” Hongjoong tries to piece together San’s rambling.

“No!” San sags in Hongjoong’s arms. “It’s!” He screws his eyes shut as if debating with himself.

“What?!”

“It’s Jongho!” San blurts finally. 

Who?

“Please, you have to help him! He’s the one who got shot!” San leans backward, dragging Hongjoong into the fields. A million thoughts whir through his brain, but Hongjoong resolved to help now, interrogate later.

“Jongho? Where was he shot?” Hongjoong asks as he’s led through the rows of empty earth. San’s tail whips at Hongjoong’s legs as he frantically searches for the mystery person. He almost twists his ankle as they traverse the rough terrain.

“I don’t know. We were just running and we got too close and then there was yelling and suddenly he was on the ground and we barely got away and—“

San whimpers, twisting Hongjoong’s heart. He’s never seen anyone so scared and helpless before.

“Hey,” he tries as softly as he can, “He’ll be okay. We’ll get him and bring him back.”

San abruptly stops and Hongjoong almost barrels into his back, wondering why until he hears a pained groan. He directs his flashlight to the ground and jumps, a yell unwillingly leaving his throat. There, lying half-curled in the dirt is a body. The boy flinches when the light lands on him, and oh no . He looks so young .

Auburn hair lies limp over a sweaty forehead. His broad frame is curled over in agony around one leg, where dark red stains the skin and drips into the ground. His body shakes with exertion and his eyes are screwed shut. As Hongjoong attempts to get closer, he scrambles back, a warning growl in his throat. He spies two small, rounded ears poking out of the mussed hair.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he starts, keeping his voice level and raising his hands. San falls to his knees, crawling next to Jongho and wedging his hands under his arms.

“Leave me alone,” the boy barks, trying in vain to shake San off. “No!”

“Jongho, please , you have to let him help you. Come on,” San hisses. Jongho glares with deep distrust, but his head lolls dangerously.

“I’m not…” he slurs, trying to keep conscious.

“Jongho, he’s the human I told you about,” San stresses, his frantic hands tapping at the boy’s cheeks. “You can trust him. You need help.”

The other cries out as San attempts to lift him again and Hongjoong rushes forward, ignoring his half-hearted growls. He nudges San over, pulling Jongho’s arm over his back and gesturing for San to do the same on his other side. Together they lift him, grunting at his heavy weight.

Hongjoong squints in the direction they came, spying the floodlights of his barn. They’re not far into the fields, but it would take a while to transport him with just the two of them without risking further injury. He sighs harshly, starting their trek. It takes a few minutes, but it feels like hours with every labored breath Jongho takes, his head hanging down between them. San’s skittish eyes flicker from him to the human and to the approaching clearing of the yard. By the time they lay his unconscious body in the dry grass, Yunho is rushing down the porch.

“Hongjoong? San? What’s going on? Who’s that?” 

“I thought I told you to stay inside,” Hongjoong scolds, already setting off towards the house. He holds out a hand, silently telling San to stay with his friend. The screen door cracks shut behind him as he bursts into the front room. Wooyoung and Yeosang jump from where they lurk by the window, watching him with fear. Hongjoong doesn’t have time to worry about them as he grabs his keys and some towels. He pauses as he passes the last drawer in the kitchen, yanking it open and grabbing the collars as well.

“W-what are you doing?” Wooyoung tries, snagging the edge of Hongjoong’s coat before he can step out onto the porch again.

The human huffs, trying to form a plan past the jumbled worry clouding his mind. “I have to help San’s friend. He got shot.”

“Shot?!” Wooyoung’s grey eyes are blown wide.

“Yes. I have to take him to the vet. Or the animal hospital. Or the actual fucking hospital. I don’t know,” he says, his hands ripping through his hair.

“Are you going alone?” Wooyoung asks, following him as he rushes to his truck. Hongjoong halts before entering the driver’s side. 

“...No,” he answers, glancing between all of the hybrids. “San will come with, but you should stay here.”

“Let me help,” Wooyoung bursts. Hongjoong and Yeosang both whirl on him, protests spilling from their mouths. “The animal hospital is your best bet. I’ve been there before, and you can’t carry him in alone. I can blend in and help you.”

Hongjoong narrows his eyes, but Wooyoung doesn’t shy away.

“Fine,” he says after a moment. “Go inside. Get a coat and some hats. Get a blanket, too, and wrap it around his leg.”

The two run away while he slams the driver door closed and turns the ignition. He backs the truck as carefully as he can across the gravel, throwing it in park and jumping out. 

San is shaking like a leaf next to Yunho. He’s kneeled next to Jongho’s prone form while Yunho rubs circles in his back.

“I don’t have room in my front seat for him. Help me get him into the bed here,” Hongjoong instructs, already leaning down and snaking his elbows under Jongho’s armpits. He stumbles under the dead weight and Yunho rushes forward, supporting him. San grabs Jongho’s ankles and together they lift him into the bed of the truck. The leftover tarp crinkles loudly in the night. 

“San, you’ll have to stay up there with him, okay? I don’t have room in the passenger seat, so Wooyoung is going to join you.” Hongjoong closes the truck after the fox hybrid climbs up. Yunho grabs the human’s shoulder before he can return to the driver’s side, sending him a confused glare.

“Why not bring me–”

“Because I need you to stay calm and hold the fort,” Hongjoong cuts him off smoothly. “Stay inside and make sure everything is fine. San needs to come because this is his friend and Wooyoung says he knows the hospital. He’s also my moral support. I need you to be Yeosang’s moral support.”

Yunho stands there, mouth agape and conflicted. Wooyoung flies over, a heavy coat over his shoulders and more in his hands. He throws the coats and a blanket into the bed of the truck, hoisting himself over the ledge immediately after. Yeosang trails behind, gravitating towards Yunho in uncertainty. After ensuring all three hybrids are situated enough, the human clambers into the driver’s seat.

“I’m sorry, Yunho,” Hongjoong says, reaching out and petting the boy’s golden hair. “I promise we’ll be back soon.”

Yunho sighs harshly, reaching up and covering Hongjoong’s hand with his own. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, then gently removes his hand. 

“Come back safe,” Yeosang murmurs, hiding behind Yunho. Hongjoong nods, sending them one last smile before closing the door. They step away from the vehicle as he slowly drives away. Hongjoong watches them return to the house through the rearview mirror as he rolls onto the main road. Before he speeds up, he fumbles behind himself for the rear window and slides it open.

“Let me know if I need to pull over, okay?!” He yells over his shoulder, shivering as the cold autumn wind fills the small space. Wooyoung yells some affirmative back and Hongjoong returns his focus to the road.

The drive is long and arduous. Every minute that passes feels like hours. Hongjoong’s fingers are numb from gripping the wheel so tightly. He wants to speed through the country roads but his precious cargo prevents him from breaking any more traffic laws. Thus he carefully navigates to the nearest animal hospital thirty minutes away. No moon or stars are visible in the sky and the empty fields don’t help the sinking sense of dread tugging at Hongjoong’s frazzled mind.

When they reach town, it feels equally as empty. The time flashing on his dashboard indicates it’s late enough that no one is out. At least, not in the part of town he’s in. The animal hospital’s parking lot has a few sparse cars parked under the streetlights. He navigates to a darkened corner slightly away from the entrance. As soon as he parks, he turns the engine off and jumps out, checking on the others.

Wooyoung and San are huddled together over Jongho’s unconscious form. They’re shivering despite wearing Hongjoong’s heaviest coats. He winces, wishing in that moment that he had anything but a truck just so they could be slightly more comfortable.

“Okay, we’re here. I need you guys to do something,” he whispers, paranoid despite their deserted surroundings. “Wooyoung, you can hide your tail just fine, right? Wear that beanie you brought and put your hood up. You should pass as human then.”

The boy nods, lips pursed as he wrestles a black beanie over his pointed ears. Hongjoong shifts his attention to San, looking him up and down as he tries to come up with a plan. His eyes trail to the white tip of San’s tail, which incessantly flicks up and down.

“Can you hide that somehow? In your pants or…” Hongjoong chews at his bottom lip. “Actually, wrap it around your waist and then cover it with your hoodie. Can you do that? Or is it too uncomfortable?”

“I can manage,” San mumbles, his eyes hard as he slowly lifts the hem around his waist. His fluffy tail is forced under, bunching the fabric slightly as it twitches. San zips up the loaned long coat, effectively hiding everything. 

“Perfect, and then I have this,” Hongjoong reassures, tossing a baseball cap to him. San stares at the cap, letting Wooyoung snatch it out of his hands and mash it over his head. Together they look human and Hongjoong sighs in relief.

A muffled groan directs all of their attention to Jongho, who stirs. A blanket is haphazardly wrapped around his injured leg, staunching some of the blood. The dark liquid is still spreading, staining the tarp bunched underneath.

“That’ll have to do. Hurry, we don’t have much time,” Hongjoong urges, beckoning them to lower Jongho. He grunts as he tries to carry him down, Wooyoung and San jumping off the back and supporting him. They hobble across the parking lot, probably dripping blood onto the pavement as they go. Hongjoong shoulders open the door, stumbling into the waiting room and startling the lone receptionist.

“Sir, are you alright?”

“Please, help me,” Hongjoong interrupts breathlessly, almost crashing into the desk. The woman jumps up, hands hovering as she recovers from the initial shock. 

“What’s wrong?”

“He’s shot, can you please help him?” Hongjoong says, staring with wild eyes. She doesn’t answer right away, gaze flickering between him and Jongho, who hangs between Wooyoung and San.

“He’s my hybrid,” the human adds desperately, struggling to lie on the spot. “He wasn’t wearing his collar and he went outside at night and got shot. Can you please help him?”

Finally unfrozen, the receptionist nods her head, hands fumbling for the phone. She clicks a button, speaking into the receiver and relaying the situation. After a second she hangs up and faces Hongjoong.

“The emergency doctor is on his way. Can you please tell me his condition in the meantime?”

Hongjoong forces himself to take a deep breath. “He was shot in his lower leg. I’m not sure where exactly, but he’s lost a lot of blood and I don’t know how severe the wound is.”

“And he is your hybrid?” She asks, scribbling the information down on a clipboard.

Hongjoong pauses. “Yes.”

Her eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. “Do you have documentation?”

“Uh, no. I left it at the house. I wasn’t really thinking,” he tries.

The door to the back area opens and a nurse ushers them through. The receptionist hands the clipboard to her as they hobble down the small hallway into an even smaller exam room. Hongjoong directs the two carrying Jongho to lay him on the table. 

The nurse scans the clipboard and Jongho, frowning.

“Sir I’m going to ask you to fill out this form as best as you can in order for us to take care of him. Sign at the bottom so we have consent to perform surgery.”

Hongjoong bites his lip, taking the offered clipboard and pen with numb fingers. He scans the paper without really taking it in, signing quickly at the bottom and handing it back. 

“There, now can you help him please?” He stresses, his hands grabbing at his own hair. 

“Yes. But I will have to ask you some questions later,” she warns, beckoning outside the door for something. A few other assistants file in with a wheelchair, gingerly lowering Jongho into the padded seat. They prop up his injured leg with the blanket still wrapped around and push him out the room. The nurse leaves with them, closing the door behind her and leaving the three of them in silence.

Hongjoong lets out a breath, sagging against the wall. He traces the cheesy cat and dog wallpaper with one nail as he calms his mind. Wooyoung and San stare up at him, crammed together in the one guest chair.

“Is he going to be okay?” San asks, unable to keep the fear out of his voice. Hongjoong presses the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“Yes, San. He’s going to be okay now.”

Wooyoung glances between them, working his hand into San’s and lacing their fingers. Hongjoong tries to calm his heartbeat, knowing he’s through the worst of it.

The door opens again minutes later, the same nurse as before.

“The doctor has started emergency surgery. He’s lost a lot of blood, but he’ll be fine. It’s looking good,” she reassures. Hongjoong sighs in relief. The nurse moves into the room, resting the clipboard onto the metal table. 

“But we need information to proceed. Mr. Kim Hongjoong, correct?”

He gulps. “Yes.”

“You said this hybrid is under your care? Can we have the name and documentation?” She slides the clipboard across the surface, the plastic skidding against metal.

Hongjoong rereads the document he didn’t fill outside of his name, shakily picking up the pen.

Patient Name. Species. Age. Other medical questions.

“We have no online records of you or your hybrid. Is he a recent adoption?”

His mouth is dry.

“Sir, do you have any record of adoption?”

He can’t come up with an answer. The black type blurs in his vision. Why can’t he come up with anything? A hand reaches out and delicately taps at his knuckles. He jerks up and sees the nurse’s kind, almost pitying face.

“You don’t have to lie. We won’t deny him care if he is undocumented.”

“But you’ll take him away,” Hongjoong blurts, immediately forgetting himself.

She blinks, surprised. “He will have to go to the pound if he is undocumented or if no one claims him, yes.”

“Can’t I claim him?”

She gives a tight-lipped smile. “Are you his legal owner?”

Hongjoong shakes his head in dismay.

“Then no.”

Silence, except for the muted hum of the automated heater. The nurse reaches over and brings the clipboard back to her. She flips through the pages and brings it to her chest.

“You could adopt him if you wanted.”

Hongjoong stares at her, open-mouthed. “I can do that?”

She shrugs. “If there’s no evidence of previous ownership, then yes. But you’ll have to go through the forms and fees.”

“I’ll do it,” he says, words rushed. “Give me everything right now and I’ll sign it.”

“Woah, woah, hold on,” she stops, holding up a hand. “We don’t know if he has a previous owner yet—“

“He doesn’t.”

Her eyes narrow. “What makes you so sure?”

“My… friends and I heard gunshots. I live in the middle of nowhere surrounded by fields. We went outside to see if something happened and that hybrid came out of nowhere. He looked wild.” Hongjoong swallows. It’s not far from the truth.

The nurse hums. “That is pretty convincing. Are they your friends?” She gestures to the two frozen in the chair.

Heart in his throat, he responds. “Yeah. They were willing to help me carry him here.”

“That’s very kind of you. You guys must be close.”

Wooyoung coughs out a nervous laugh. San avoids her gaze.

“Well, normally I would press further but it is late and you seem very nice. I’m sure you’ll be a great owner for this young hybrid. I’ll get you started on the adoption process right now,” she finishes, offering a sweet smile before disappearing out the door again. Hongjoong somehow feels he just dodged a bullet.

“You’re going to adopt him?” Wooyoung reiterates, expression wary.

“I didn’t really have another choice, did I?” Hongjoong says, not wanting to argue.

“But you didn’t adopt us.”

“They don’t know about you,” Hongjoong hisses. “And I’d like to keep it that way.”

San speaks up for the first time. “It’s better than being alone in the pound. At least we know Hongjoong won’t take advantage of us.”

“Was there no other way?” Wooyoung whines, still not quite grasping the gravity of the situation.

“Without endangering the rest of us further? No, there wasn’t another way,” Hongjoong mutters.

Wooyoung acquiesces, sinking back as much as he can into the chair. San stares blankly off in the distance. Hongjoong wants so badly to be back home and in bed. There it’s warm and cuddly unlike the stark lighting and barely furnished cell of an exam room. Not even the tan wallpaper can make up for the unfriendly medical atmosphere.

After what feels like hours, the nurse enters again with a soft knock. She lays out some papers on the table, gesturing for Hongjoong to fill them out. He skims the new documents, eyes catching on some handwritten information.

“I provided some notes for you. It appears he is a bear species, so we had to consider that in the final adoption fee along with the treatment.”

His stomach sinks at the final page filled with numbers. The nurse catches the poorly hidden dismay on his face.

“I understand that it may be a lot. We still need you to cover the cost of this visit and surgery, but you can still back out on adopting him.”

“Why is it so… much…” he asks, redundant. The pen in his hand catches on his cheek as he runs it through his beyond mussed hair. 

“The adoption fees cover for other medical expenses, like vaccinations.” Her words sound more muffled past the static in his brain. He nods, barely comprehending his own hand filling out the papers. He pauses at the name. Pretending to contemplate, he slowly writes in “Jongho.”

“Are you sure?” She says as his hand hovers over the last signature. Hongjoong signs without a second doubt, pushing the papers together. He all but shoves the stack in the nurse’s face but she smiles, sympathetic.

“Please come to the front desk with me to finalize your payment. Your friends can stay here. It will only take a moment.”

She was right. The payment was a blur, much like everything else in the last hour. He returns to the exam room, now functioning as a waiting room. Time passes as they tiredly wait. It’s almost as agonizing as the trip to the hospital. But Hongjoong reminds himself that everything is fine now. He just has to wait for Jongho and then they can go home.

It hasn’t sunk in, what he’s done. He knows it will, soon, when he isn’t running on fumes and worrying himself half to death. He can deal with the consequences of his actions later when they’re all home and safe. 

Jongho returns in a wheelchair again, this time in a cast and relatively blood-free. He’s still unconscious, but he looks much better. The sweat has been wiped from his face and the dirt caked under his fingernails is gone. His hands are loosely folded in his lap and his head lolls forward.

“I’m sorry. We aren’t as equipped for hybrids like we are for animals so we don’t have a stretcher for him,” the nurse says, wincing.

“It’s fine, as long as he’s fine,” Hongjoong murmurs, resisting the urge to check if the other is even breathing.

“He should be. We can help you bring him to your vehicle—“

“That won’t be necessary. I can push him myself and return the wheelchair,” Hongjoong interrupts. The nurse purses her lips but relents. She holds open the door, letting Hongjoong push Jongho out himself. Wooyoung and San trail behind, giving her a wide berth.

“If you could stop by the counter, we have a copy of your adoption papers for you as well as some medication and instructions.”

Hongjoong does as he’s asked, snatching up the pill bottles and papers. He motions for Wooyoung to take over the wheelchair.

“Thank you so much,” Hongjoong says earnestly. “I mean it. I know I’m acting really ungrateful but thank you for saving him.”

The receptionist glances at him in surprise, craning her neck to the nurse and doctor behind. Despite their weary faces, they have genuine smiles.

“It’s our job. Come by again any time if you have more trouble with him.”

He nods, backing away and ducking his head.

“Have a good night. Or good morning,” he says, finally turning and opening the door. Wooyoung and San squeeze through with Jongho. 

They return to the car, this time lifting Jongho into the passenger seat and buckling him in. Wooyoung and San ride in the back, huddled together again. Hongjoong returns the wheelchair and hurries to the driver’s side. He exits the parking lot much calmer and much later than when he entered.

Jongho does not stir once the whole ride home. Only his steady breathing assures the human that he’s still alive as he drives. The ride back is quiet, with no music to soothe Hongjoong’s inner turmoil. When he enters his driveway again, the lights are still on in the house. Wooyoung and San are shivering again when he parks. They still help him carry Jongho into the house.

Yunho and Yeosang are dozing on the couch when they enter. Immediately they jump out of their light slumber, worried stares hooked on Jongho. Hongjoong beckons them over, setting the papers and new pill bottles on the kitchen counter.

“Listen, we’re fine. Everything's going to be fine now,” he starts, leaving no room for Yunho to cut in. “This is Jongho, San’s friend. He got shot and in order to ensure his full recovery, he is going to be staying here, with us, until then.”

Yunho’s gaze darkens at the news and his tail lashes. “Where will he go? All the rooms are full.”

“The couch works for now. He needs to keep his leg propped anyway,” Hongjoong answers smoothly. Wooyoung and San have already laid the boy down in the living room.

“We can talk more in the morning. Right now I really need to just sleep,” Hongjoong placates, rubbing Yunho’s shoulder. The dog hybrid must see the exhaustion in his eyes because he doesn’t press further. 

Hongjoong rounds the couch, turning the overhead light off and turning on a lamp instead. The fireplace is reduced to embers, barely radiating any heat. In the soft glow, Jongho looks so much younger. His heart breaks at the sight of such a relaxed face compared to the fear and agony he saw earlier in the night. Unwittingly, he brushes the dirty red bangs off of his forehead, brushing the hair with his fingers.

“San,” he whispers, glancing at the fox. “If you could, please stay with him tonight. Yunho can bring one of his blankets down for you.”

The other hums, already settling on the ground with his back to the couch. He tugs the one blanket left in the basket and pulls it over Jongho, careful of his new cast. Hongjoong smiles, patting the cap that still covers San’s head.

“You can take that off now if you want,” he adds before heading to the stairs. He turns off all other lights on the main floor before ascending the stairs to his room. 

“Hongjoong, are you alright?” Yunho asks, hovering behind him as he trudges into his room and flops face-first onto his bed.

“I’m very tired,” he responds, muffled through the comforter.

“You definitely look tired…”

Hongjoong rolls onto his back, watching Wooyoung and Yeosang walk into their own room. He doesn’t realize his eyes are closed until Yunho shakes his shoulder gently.

“You can’t fall asleep yet. You still have blood on your clothes.”

The human groans, letting Yunho wrestle him upright. He paws at his shirt, pulling it off in one go. He misses Yunho’s face turning red as he throws articles of clothing in the vague direction of his hamper. 

“Uh, you change into your pajamas. I’ll uh, give some blankets to San. Yes. Please don’t be naked when I come back,” he squeaks, disappearing down the stairs with two blankets trailing after him.

Hongjoong pays him no mind, changing with difficulty as his tired mind operates his clumsy body. He debates brushing his teeth but decides his bed is too comfortable, crawling into his spot and curling up with the light still on. Minutes later, Yunho returns.

“Oh, Hongjoong…” he doesn’t flinch when large hands pet his blue hair. The bedside lamp clicks off and his room switches to darkness, letting Hongjoong drift off. 

He hears Yunho vaguely say something more but he is already gone, drained from the night’s events.

Chapter Text

‘Cause in life sometimes we need a helping hand

You’ll be alright, just take it slow

One day at a time.

-“One Day At A Time”

Despite the heavy grip of sleep on his body, Hongjoong wakes up to Wooyoung shaking him. Gradually he becomes more aware of the general ache in his bones as his shoulders are vigorously tapped. He blinks blearily up at Wooyoung. The other’s ears are flattened and his eyes hold a seriousness Hongjoong hasn’t seen since he first took him in.

“Jongho woke up. Yeosang and Yunho and San are trying to keep him calm but we need you. Hurry!” He tugs Hongjoong’s half-awake form out of his comfortable sheets. The cold floorboards creak in their haste as the corgi leads him out of the room. The human shivers as more and more chilly air blows through his body. Already, he misses his bed.

The trek down the stairs lasts mere seconds but every step feels so much longer as Hongjoong’s mind wakes up and his stomach flips in trepidation. Immediately he jumps to scenarios involving excessive injury as they reach the main floor. He surveys the living room, which is surprisingly less untidy than he’d expected. In his mind, there were pillows and cushions ripped apart and Jongho running away. Instead, Jongho is still on the intact couch, now coherent with his untrusting glare pinned on the human. San kneels next to him with his wrist in a death grip, silently stopping the bear hybrid from moving. Yunho and Yeosang linger just out of reach. They both relax a little as the human enters the scene.

Hongjoong inches forward, one of his hands still occupied by Wooyoung, who stays behind him. Yeosang also slips behind him, peeking from his shoulders. Yunho remains his protector, his shaggy tail swishing with apprehension. 

The human reaches the couch slowly, raising his hands as non-threateningly as he can.

“Hey,” he whispers, voice rough from sleep. Yunho’s ears flick back to listen and San glances up. The bear’s pupils flicker between him and Hongjoong. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Jongho huffs, perhaps in disbelief. “Where am I?”

“You’re in my house, safe. Last night, San asked me to help you and I did,” Hongjoong starts, his hip hitting the back of the couch. “I’ll explain everything as much as I can. How much do you remember?”

Jongho’s stare unfocuses as he recalls the events prior. “I… we were in a field. Just having fun.” San’s hands tighten on Jongho’s arms. “It was dark, but then there was a bright light. And yelling. We got too close to some humans and…”

His face pales as his eyes land on his bandaged leg. “There were gunshots. I thought we got away, but then I fell over and it–”

Jongho’s breath catches. “It hurt so bad . But San said we had to keep moving and he was pulling me and we kept running. He said that someone, that you could help.” Bright eyes lift back to Hongjoong. “I don’t remember anything past that. But then I wake up here, with my leg better and San bothering me!” He tries to shake off San’s grip but the other crowds him in, nose scrunched in anger.

“I was worried about you!” He yells, black ears flattening. Hongjoong’s eyebrows raise and he holds up a hand before San can say more.

“Well, what matters is that you’re safe now. But there’s something more important that I need to tell you.” Unconsciously, he goes to wring his hands but Wooyoung’s fingers halt his action. Instead, Hongjoong bites his lip, deciding to get it over with.

“What is it?” Jongho’s eyes narrow. San’s one-sided hug tightens and he burrows his face in the bear hybrid’s neck.

“In order to help with your injury, we had to go to the hospital…” He hedges. Jongho’s glare is unwavering. Hongjoong’s next words come out in a rushed sigh.  “I had to adopt you.”

“...what.”

Jongho’s glare is eerily blank as he stiffens even further. Hongjoong represses the urge to cough. 

“I’m sorry. It was the only way to keep you with San. You’ll have to stay here until you recover–”

“Are you saying you own me?” Jongho lurches forward, but San’s death grip pulls him back before he can get far. Yunho immediately steps in front of the human and Wooyoung has squeezed the feeling out of his fingers. 

“I’m not saying that. I won’t do that. I promise .”

“But you’ll keep me here, trapped.”

“No,” he denies. “You only have to stay until your leg is better.” This time he can’t hold back the bout of coughing. Jongho’s livid face is obscured by Yunho’s worried one. “It was the only way,” he continues, breathless.

“Hongjoong?” Wooyoung’s voice is so timid, he almost mistakes him for Yeosang. Soft hands support his elbows as he recovers.

“It’s nothing,” the human mutters. “Just seasonal allergies.”

“There’s no way that’s allergies–”

Hongjoong waves off Yunho’s protests, focusing again on his new guest. He wants to get this conversation over with. “You’re under my care now, whether you want to be or not. I won’t force you to stay here, but whatever happens to you affects me now.”

“Jongho, this can be a good thing,” San tries, gingerly tapping Jongho’s cheek. The younger minutely relaxes, head tilted and eyes downcast. “This means that if anything bad happens you can go to Hongjoong for help. He will help you.”

When the other says nothing, Hongjoong sighs. “Take some time to think about it. After all, we can’t do anything right now.” A wave of tiredness crashes over the human and he sags slightly. Wooyoung’s fingers dig into his elbow. “I think I’ll go back to bed.”

He entrusts Jongho to San, spinning around and lumbering back towards the stairs. Wooyoung supports him as he goes, the furrow in his eyebrows never leaving. Yeosang brackets his other side, hovering but not touching. Hongjoong struggles to keep his eyes open as he trudges into his room and topples into his bed. He coughs a little more as he climbs to his pillow and rolls onto his back. Yunho and Wooyoung frown at him from the edge of the bed, Yunho slowly sitting down next to his feet.

“Sorry, I need to take a nap,” he mumbles, eyes already closed.

“Don’t apologize. We did wake you up early,” Yunho placates. Hongjoong flaps his hand at him, cracking an eye open.

“Can you make sure nothing happens? Wake me up in an hour, okay?” The human asks, feeling himself drift with every passing moment.

“I will,” Yunho reassures, somewhat hesitant. He stands up, the dip in the bed disappearing. He adjusts the curtains, keeping the rising sun from peeking through the cracks, then retreats. Wooyoung watches over the taller’s shoulder, his worried gaze never leaving the other. Yeosang lingers in the doorway, letting Yunho shut the door. Hongjoong tucks in his knees and coughs once more. The last thing in his mind is Jongho’s pensive face before he succumbs to sleep.

The sun is much higher when he wakes again, streaming through the gaps in the curtains. He groans at the pounding headache that immediately forms. Sitting up is an arduous process, the springs of his mattress creaking as he shifts. He stays still for a while, unable to think past the cotton in his head. Vaguely, he hears the stairs groan as someone rushes up the steps. They pause at his door, knocking twice before slowly opening it. Fluffy white hair pokes through.

“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?” Hongjoong grumbles. Yeosang’s grey eyes are unnerving as they study him.

“You needed the sleep,” is all he says. He inches forward when the human slides off the bed, his long fingers taking Hongjoong’s own sweaty hand. He tries to wave him off, but ends up stumbling. Yeosang stubbornly supports him as he makes his way out of his room.

“How is Jongho?” He asks, focusing on his bare feet going down the steps one at a time. Yeosang pauses in front of him, his other hand tapping the stair railing.

“Quiet,” he eventually answers. “I think he’s processing everything.”

Hongjoong nods absently. “That’s good.”

They reach the main floor, Yeosang reluctantly letting go of his elbow. Sunlight filters through the open space, dimmed and colored by the many sheer curtains. Hongjoong frowns, walking around the perimeter and opening all the curtains and blinds. Usually, he’d have already done so sooner. He winces at the brightness, retreating to the kitchen and picking up his phone on the counter. The clock over the stove indicates that it’s close to noon, confirming his suspicions.

“Where are Wooyoung and Yunho?” he asks, noticing their absence. Yeosang’s eyes flit out the window, towards the barn.

“Working.”

Hongjoong hums, scrolling through his notifications. A certain email from the animal hospital reminds him of his new adoptee, presenting a digital copy of the papers for his records. He makes sure to save the email, ignoring how uncomfortable the documents make him feel. Sighing, he turns from his phone and glances at the couch, where Jongho and San watch him. They haven’t moved at all in the past few hours, but Jongho seems marginally less apprehensive.

“Have you eaten?” Hongjoong asks, not directing his question to anyone in particular. Yeosang shakes his head.

“Yunho tried to make breakfast for himself. Wooyoung didn’t eat anything,” he informs. Hongjoong glances at the sink where some pans and plates are piled up.

“I see that,” he mutters, reaching for the least dirty pan. Perhaps he can make a proper breakfast without washing more dishes. A wave of nausea overwhelms him and he leans heavily on the counter, dropping the pan back into the sink. The clatter alerts Yeosang and he rushes over, his normally blank face contorted in concern.

“I don’t like seeing you like this,” Yeosang admits, his soft voice strained. Hongjoong blinks the black spots out of his vision, smiling weakly. The cat’s ears are laid back as he searches for what to do. The human presses his palm to his mouth while Yeosang plucks an apple out of the wicker basket next to the sink.

“Just eat this instead. Don’t waste your energy cooking,” he tries, presenting the fruit. Hongjoong stares at it, holding back a gag at the thought of eating. He grabs it, his nails denting the soft surface, and retreats from Yeosang’s heavy stare. After a few contemplative moments, the other plucks a few more and carries them past Hongjoong to the couch. He wordlessly gives one to San and holds another out for Jongho.

Hongjoong holds his breath, glancing between them. Jongho is frozen, glaring at the apple until San nudges his side. Reluctantly, he reaches forward and snatches the fruit, studying it as if checking for poison. Hongjoong doesn’t miss San’s small smile.

“Jongho, can you break this for me? Please?” San asks, depositing his apple into the bear hybrid’s open hand. Hongjoong has never seen the other put on such a cute act, complete with starry eyes and a hopeful smile. Jongho huffs as if this is not the first time he’s been asked. He grabs San’s apple and promptly breaks it clean in half.

San claps his hands, unable to contain his excitement as Jongho hands him his two halves of fruit. Hongjoong blinks. Had he seen that correctly? Jongho picks up his own apple and does the same action again with a resounding snap.

“Holy shit?” Hongjoong blurts out. The tiny satisfied smile on Jongho’s face disappears at his outburst and he internally curses his outburst. “That was amazing! You must be incredibly strong to be able to just break it like that!”

The younger sits up straighter, a confident glint entering his eyes. “I am,” he preens.

The human timidly offers his apple, minding the way the other shrinks back a bit. He persists, the laugh in his throat turning into a cough.

Jongho scoops the apple out of his hands, breaking it as smoothly as he did the others. Hongjoong beams, giggling a little at the two halves placed in his palms. This time Jongho’s small smile doesn’t disappear. 

“You can consider that a threat,” San mutters around a mouthful of food. “His strength is so much that he could probably break your arm no problem.” 

Hongjoong blanches, taking a step backward while San and Jongho snicker. Despite the obvious inhuman strength and intimidating aura the younger emits, his gummy smile negates everything. The human nibbles at his breakfast, hiding his own smile. Maybe there’s a chance he can break through Jongho’s defensive walls after all.

“... joong .”

He grumbles, unable to open his sticky eyelids. Something shakes his shoulder, albeit gentle.

“ Hongjoong .”

“Hmm?” He opens his eyes, but the blackness persists. He blinks hard, hand coming up and rubbing the aching spot between his eyebrows. He blinks again, the spots receding in his vision to reveal fuzzy light. A shadow looms in that light, focusing into a very very worried San.

Hongjoong knows his stare is blank, but he can’t snap out of it. He doesn’t comprehend San’s gentle touch on his cheek until it’s gone, tucked back in the dirty folds of his hoodie.

“Oh Sannie…” he slurs, rubbing at his headache again. “I have clean clothes for you… I forgot to tell you that…” 

His arm bumps his laptop as he shifts and he remembers where he is. Right. He was working on orders and checking his inbox. The light overhead the kitchen table is on and the rigid wood of the dining chair digs into his back. When did he fall asleep?

San shakes his head, his fox ears out in the open. “That’s not important right now. What’s wrong with you?”

Hongjoong catches a glimpse of Jongho still on the couch behind San. His guard is lowered and there’s a hint of pity coloring his face.

“Hmm? Nothing. It’s fine. I’m tired that’s all—“

He’s cut off by the sudden onslaught of coughing that wracks his body. He had felt it coming, trying to suppress the tickle in his throat, but that only worsened the problem. Hongjoong’s knuckles knock against wood as he braces himself. When it slowly subsides, he straightens weakly, noticing belatedly San’s fingers rubbing his back.

“Maybe you should go to bed again. That helps, right?” San offers, lifting his hand.

“Mmm no, I have to work still.” Hongjoong tries to pull his laptop back to himself but San is quicker, closing and scooting it out of his reach.

“No, you’re falling asleep sitting up, you’re coughing a lot, and your face is hotter than it should be. You can’t be working right now.”

“But what am I supposed to do while Yunho and the others do all the heavy labor? I feel guilty.” Hongjoong whines through another cough.

“Go to sleep so that you’ll get better sooner and be able to work better,” San retorts. Sensing that the other is not going to budge, the human looks past the fox and makes eye contact with Jongho. The younger grimaces and hastily looks away, blush tinting his cheekbones. San steps in his line of sight, forcing him to focus back on him.

“Come on. Let’s go upstairs.” Black fringe covers San’s eyes from view; it seems no one wants to confront Hongjoong’s pleading stare. He’s hauled upright, the sudden movement causing vertigo. His knees give out and he leans heavily on San. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, struggling to stay upright. San shakes his head, firm arms guiding.

“Don’t be. You can’t help it.”

A pang of embarrassment shoots through Hongjoong as he catches Jongho’s gaze once more before ascending the stairs. The bear hybrid probably thought he was weak and untrustworthy like this. He must hate the idea of being adopted by such a stupid human.

He doesn’t have time to wallow for long before he’s pushed onto his bed for the second time that day. San purses his lips as Hongjoong breathes heavily, suppressing another cough. 

“I’ll get Yunho. You stay here,” he decides.

“No, please don’t,” he groans, his sweaty fingers bunching the messy blue sheets. San backs away with a conflicted expression. He exits the room before Hongjoong can protest further, leaving the door ajar. 

The human gives up, lacking the energy to move too much. Absently, his hands smooth the wrinkled sheets. He sighs, rolling onto his side and curling into a fetal position. This way the overall ache in his body has lessened some. He stuffs his head into his pillow and resists the urge to scream in frustration.

What horrible timing. Of course he had to get sick right then and there. Of course, when he needed to be at his best to be able to help the others and Jongho, he suddenly couldn’t. A nasty lump forms in his throat at the idea of Jongho. What could he possibly be thinking? Hongjoong was this human that he barely knew who suddenly adopted him without his consent. How does he feel when he sees that this human is also weak enough to succumb to a stupid, careless illness? He must hate Hongjoong.

He must have floated in his head for quite a while. A dip in his bed brings him back to reality. The human cracks an eye open when hands ghost over his head.

“Hongjoong…” Yunho murmurs, carding his fingers through damp teal hair. “You’ve stretched yourself too thin.”

“No I haven’t,” he tries, voice muffled in his pillow. He places weak hands underneath himself, attempting to push up into a sitting position. “It’s just seasonal allergies…”

He fails miserably, hacking into his elbow for a few seconds before deflating back into the pillow. Yunho’s eyebrows are scrunched in uncharacteristic worry.

“Please, just go back to sleep,” he pleads. “San can handle Jongho for now. The rest of us know how to run the farm for a few days.”

Hongjoong doesn’t have the energy to fight back, letting Yunho tuck him back in. As much as he hates to admit it, it’s true. The stress of Halloween night on top of the already added stress of four hybrids was too much to bear. His mind and body finally broke a little.

“I’m sorry.” His voice cracks halfway into a whisper. 

“No, I’m sorry,” Yunho stresses. “I should’ve noticed you falling apart like this and stopped it before it happened.” His long fingers continue to run soothingly through Hongjoong’s hair. “But it’s alright now.”

The human lifts a hand, reaching for Yunho’s head but not making it very far. Thankfully, the other catches on, ducking his head. He lets Hongjoong pat behind his droopy ears, his tail starting a rhythmic thump on the bed. Yunho gives a tiny smile, catching Hongjoong’s wrist and bringing it down in his lap.

“Sleep, okay?”

Hongjoong hums in affirmation, letting Yunho rub his knuckles and play with his fingers. The hybrid stays by his side until he dozes off, his tail a constant tap on the bed that lulls him to sleep.

He’s confined to his bed for the next few days. The sleep does wonders and his overprotective friends have forced him to stay in his room, just to be safe. Hongjoong was able to secure his laptop the second day after a nice hot shower. He must’ve spent over an hour in the bathroom; Yunho knocked several times to make sure he was still alive. The heat sapped all remaining energy from his bones, but his mind was much more awake. Thus, he decided to work in bed. It was odd, especially when he glances out his window and sees the others milling around outside. But it was better than nothing, and he could catch up on paperwork for the next few months if he really tried.

When he’s not sleeping or working, he looks out the window. Sometimes he plays music from his phone while he stares blankly. Sometimes he opens the window and rests his head on the sill, content to hear the birds. His cheeks are cooled by the incoming winter chill while he wraps the crocheted blue blanket around his body.

Hongjoong sits at the windowsill on the third day of bed rest. His health had improved, though he still felt rather weak. An untouched mug of tea sits on the floor next to him. The curtains billow around him, coarse dark fabric tickling his face. He changed them out when he decorated for incoming winter months, swapping light sheer fabric for heavy navy that blocks the sun. He had them closed previously while he organized his clients on his laptop. After a few hours a headache ensued and he decided to quit while he was ahead. Yeosang snuck in with a fresh cup of tea, leaving it on his bedside table and disappearing before Hongjoong could strike up a conversation. Bored, he took the tea, dragged Yunho’s pile of blankets to the window, and sat down.

Opening the window served as quite the relief. Sunlight poured into his room and warmed his soul. Even the bite of the wind couldn’t deter him from resting his chin right by the screen. Hongjoong almost dozes off again, comfortable despite the rigid wall pressing against his body. The sounds of outside drift into consciousness, preventing him from falling asleep completely.

He cracks an eye open, watching Yunho tend to the chicken pen. He hears Wooyoung laugh distantly, but he can’t pinpoint whether he’s inside the house or out. He wonders if San is still with Jongho or if he escaped to the fields for a day. He almost hopes so; the other probably needs a break as well.

Hongjoong peers down, his attention roaming as Yunho exits the barn. He notices something in his garden, somewhat out of sight but still on the same side of the house as his window. Frowning, he cranes his neck, forehead touching the screen. Slight movement catches his attention. There’s a person in his garden.

The human rubs the sand out of his eyes and squints. What he can see of their hair is light, so it’s not Wooyoung. Is it Yeosang? No… too tall. But he just saw Yunho come the other way. Besides, they’re lurking in a way that’s too suspicious to be anyone he knows. His heart leaps in his throat. Could they be one of Hongjoong’s neighbors, come after Jongho to finish the job? He glances between the intruder and his closed bedroom door. He’s light-headed at the simple thought of getting up too fast or yelling. He braces himself against the windowsill, mustering the energy to get help, but before he can, a loud voice cuts through the frigid air.

“ Hey! ” Yunho’s shout is distinct. Hongjoong is glued to the window, face pressed against the screen again. The trespasser jumps, scrambling through the dirt. Yunho appears from inside, probably spotting them from the back door. He chases the person through the garden and Hongjoong mourns the immediate destruction of his winter plants.

He can only watch, riveted, as the stranger attempts to leap his garden fence. Their legs are too long and their foot catches on the white picket. They tumble to the ground with a loud crack, the wood splintering in their wake. Yunho quickly dodges the catastrophe and captures their wrists, trapping them on the ground.

Now that they’re further out, Hongjoong doesn’t have to strain as much to watch them. Upon closer inspection, he can see the person is a young man with sandy hair and... pigtails? No, those things sprouting from his hair are too floppy and solid to be pigtails. Hongjoong bites his lip. It can’t be… 

“Who are you?” Yunho demands, his breath fogging. The boy’s fearful eyes rake over him as he struggles with an answer. Hongjoong barely registers the screen bending under his weight and pressing into his skin. Yunho growls when he gets no response, his golden tail lashing behind him.

“I-I’m Mingi!” The man squeaks, struggling under the other’s iron grip. His attention clearly snags on Yunho’s twitching ears and his face colors in confusion. “Wait, are you a hybrid, too?”

Hongjoong’s breath catches at the last bit. Too? He wants to smack himself in the face. Is his luck really that bad? Now he sees that the long extremities on Mingi’s head are really animal ears, a rabbit’s to be exact.

Yunho falters. “What?”

Mingi takes his chance, snapping his wrists away and scooting backward. However, he doesn’t run away. “Where’s your owner?” He asks, shaking his hair into his eyes and rubbing at his long ears.

Yunho’s ears flatten. “I don’t have an owner.”

“But there’s a human keeping Jongho in there! Is he keeping you trapped, too?”

Yunho’s head ticks in the direction of Hongjoong’s window. “Jongho? Wait, no–”

Mingi interrupts him, face brightening. “You know Jongho?”

“What? I– yeah?”

“Do you know San, too?”

“Yes, but–”

“So you can help me!” Mingi leaps forward, a big hopeful smile on his face. He grabs Yunho’s hands and switches on what seems to be his cutest impression of puppy eyes, which is ironic considering who he’s using them on.

“Uh,” Yunho says eloquently. Perhaps the puppy eyes worked.

“We can join forces and free Jongho and San from this place! You can come with me!” Mingi promises, swinging their hands. “We have this cool hideout in the woods, by the creek.” Hongjoong winces at the sheer optimism in his voice.

“Stop,” Yunho says, stilling their hands. Mingi’s face flickers with uncertainty. “You have it all wrong. I’m not going anywhere. Jongho is here because my human helped him. He’s not trapped, and San is with him inside,” he explains calmly.

The other squints at him, silently weighing his options. “If I try to see them, you won’t trap me, too?”

Yunho shakes his head. “I promise, we won’t. There are others, just so you know.”

Mingi nods, flipping one of his long ears over his shoulder. “What’s your name?”

“Ah, I’m Yunho,” he answers. “Sorry for tackling you like that. After what happened to Jongho, I was kind of on edge. Especially when my human is sick and on bed rest right now.”

Mingi’s brows knit. “What exactly happened to Jongho? I could smell blood, but the trail went cold here.”

Yunho exhales heavily, gesturing towards the house. “That’s a long story. I can tell you, but I’d like to go inside first.”

They disappear from Hongjoong’s sight, presumably into the house. The human sags against the frame with a huge, relieved sigh. Now that the sudden burst of adrenaline has worn off, he feels infinitely more tired. 

As usual, a million thoughts whir through his brain while his body sits immobile. What is Mingi going to do in his home? Can he trust him? Can he trust Yunho to keep control of the situation when he’s not there? Why didn’t San mention other wild friends? Should he go downstairs or wait until someone comes for him? 

Right now, they don’t know that he knows. Hongjoong buries his head in his hands. The added stress is already too much, so he decides to leave it up to his friends. He drags himself back to his bed, not bothering to close the window behind him. The untouched mug of tea sits on the floor, miraculously unspilled. He rolls onto his bed, still wrapped in the indigo blanket. Just a few minutes, perhaps. If no one alerts him of his new guest, then he’ll come down on his own. Unsuccessful in blocking out his constant worries, Hongjoong lets his eyes shut.

Unsurprisingly, he dozed off again. It wasn’t for long, perhaps half an hour at most, but it was longer than he intended. Hongjoong woke to Yeosang tapping his shoulder, his perfect face looming in his space.

“Are you my personal chauffeur?” Hongjoong jokes, lifting his arms and wiggling them. Yeosang huffs, standing straight and taking hold of the human’s limbs. He hauls him upright, hands steadying as the world spins for a few seconds.

“Wooyoung says that we need more bonding time,” the cat hybrid explains. “So he keeps sending me to carry you around.” Despite the blunt words, Hongjoong laughs, coughing into his elbow.

“What are you all doing?” he asks innocently, resting his weight on one foot. Yeosang wanders to the window, closing it but leaving the curtains open.

“You shouldn’t leave windows open. Don’t need to get any sicker than you already are. Think about the heating bill,” Yeosang remarks, not answering his question.

“I didn’t know you cared so much about heating bills.” The two maintain eye contact, Hongjoong raising an eyebrow. Though nothing in his expression gives it away, Yeosang breaks.

“Okay, fine. Something happened,” he admits.

“I know.”

He huffs. “Then why did you ask if you already knew?”

“I wanted to see how you would handle it.” Hongjoong smiles and Yeosang rolls his eyes, leading him out the door.

“And?” The hybrid’s spotted tail brushes against Hongjoong’s knees as he walks slightly in front.

“Well, I’m glad you decided to come get me,” Hongjoong says, taking his time down the stairs. “And I’m also glad that you were able to handle it without me for a bit.”

“Mostly Yunho and San took care of it.” Muffled conversation halts as they reach the bottom of the stairs.

“Still,” Hongjoong murmurs as he walks into the main floor, suppressing a small cough. Immediately, all eyes are on him. Jongho watches him with distrust, still confined to the couch. His position has changed from laying across it to proper sitting with his injured foot propped on the coffee table. San sits next to him, his arm wrapped loosely over the younger’s shoulders. Wooyoung gives him a half-hearted smile as he stands by the table. Yunho looks guilty as he stands next to Mingi at the arm of the couch.

Yeosang’s pinky wraps around Hongjoong’s and he tugs him to the room, around the couch and next to Wooyoung. The two instantly move behind him, Wooyoung taking his other unoccupied hand. If the human didn’t already feel silly with six hybrids staring him down, he sure did when both his arms were taken up by two of them.

He raises his eyebrows as most of them avoid his inquisitive stare. “Well?” he tries. “Anyone care to introduce this mystery person?”

Mingi gulps. “Mr. Kim. It’s, um… what’s the phrase? It’s nice to meet you.”

Hongjoong makes a face. “Please, you make me sound like my father. Just Hongjoong is fine.”

The rabbit hybrid very unsubtly looks him up and down. “Your hair is blue,” he says.

Hongjoong stifles a laugh. “Indeed, it is.”

“And you’re small.”

“Any other observations you’d like to make about me while I’m here?”

San pokes Mingi in the ribs.

“Uh, sorry.” The tall boy ducks his head, long ears falling across his face. Hongjoong doesn’t hold back his giggle this time.

“It’s fine. You’re tall, you have bunny ears, you’re very loud. I think we’ve summed each other up well.”

Yunho tilts his head, diverting the conversation. “Mingi is Jongho and San’s friend. He was worried about them so he followed their scent trails here,” he explains. Hongjoong hums, assessing the nervous shuffling of Mingi’s feet.

“And?”

Yunho nudges Mingi, who glances between Jongho and San before answering. “They’re doing… well. Much better than I expected. I’m sorry I assumed you were evil when you’re tiny and harmless!”

“Hey!” Hongjoong protests while Wooyoung devolves into a fit of laughter. Yunho covers his smile with a hand.

“He’s right, though,” Yeosang admits with a small grin. Even the corners of Jongho’s mouth are turned up.

“Mingi won’t stay here,” San reassures once they’ve all calmed down. “He’s just visiting, like me.”

The human frowns. “I wasn’t worried about that. I don’t force you guys to stay, do I?”

“No, we want to, because we don’t have anywhere else,” Yunho says. He gestures to the three. “Them on the other hand…”

“We’re wild. While we appreciate your hospitality, our home is still in the woods. I can’t stay in the same place for too long,” San explains, his bangs obscuring his eyes again. He’s curled up into the cushions, pressing his body into Jongho’s.

“I’m sorry if you thought you had to be here, San. You can come by and leave anytime you want. You, too, Mingi,” Hongjoong says. “Jongho… if you really want to, you can leave as well. But I don’t think that is wise until you’re better.”

“How long will that take?” Jongho’s voice is small. 

He winces. “I don’t know for sure.”

“Just think, you can be pampered by Hongjoong until you get better! No starving for days and no washing in the cold river!” San gushes, shaking the younger’s shoulder. “You even get to steal his couch!”

The human swallows. Hopefully, his hospitality won’t get taken advantage of. The new glint in Jongho’s eye says otherwise. At least San succeeded in making him feel better about his situation. His attention returns to the odd man out watching his two friends on the couch. 

“Mingi?” The other’s head snaps up. He doesn’t look nearly as uncomfortable as he did before, but he’s still skittish around Hongjoong. “You’re welcome to stay for a while. After all, Yunho already invited you in.” He grins at the high blush that blooms on the dog hybrid’s cheeks.

“Sure then! A friend of Jongho’s is a friend of mine,” Mingi decides, jumping in place.

“They’re not really my friends,” Jongho mutters. San pats his cheek in sympathy.

Wooyoung squeezes Hongjoong’s hand, grabbing his attention. “Can we eat soon? I’m hungry,” he whines.

“Sure. If you let go of my hand, I can make something.”

“There’s no way I’m letting you into the kitchen,” Yunho argues. “You’re still sick. We can reheat something.”

Yeosang releases his other hand. “Oh, can we have the leftover fried chicken? It was so good last time.”

Both Wooyoung and Yeosang maneuver Hongjoong to the kitchen table, confining him to a chair while they bustle around the kitchen. Mingi squishes into the small open space on the couch next to San and the three of them start up a conversation. There’s clamoring as Wooyoung pulls out too many plates while Yeosang helps Yunho rummage through the fridge. Hongjoong rests his head in his palms, a tender smile growing on his face. After a rough few days filled with stressful events and sickness, he finally feels content.

Chapter Text

Every time I saw the sunset

I was afraid every night

But I'm not afraid anymore

Because you're in the dark

-Aurora

It was a very unusual summer. Midsummer heat reached record highs, blazing through the fields and reflecting off old asphalt. A traveling circus appeared once in a nearby town, two hours away. Hongjoong remembers going to this circus with his parents as a child.

In his memory, the event was huge. It occupied an old fairground, filled with many red-striped tents. Food stands and prize games lined along the main path that led from the entrance to the main tent. He was walking with his box of popcorn, pointing out all the giant stuffed animal prizes to his indulging mother. At one point he got so excited, he let go of his mother’s hand and ran up to a booth. He watched other people catch rubber ducks for a few moments before getting distracted by another game. Eventually, he’d wandered so much that when he looked around for his parents, they were nowhere in sight.

He tried not to panic, searching for them and trying to retrace his steps. However, as a shy kid with no sense of direction, he’d gotten more lost. The gap between tents that he stopped in had no gravel or worn ground, just wild grass that tickled his knees. He inched down it to the back, away from the overwhelming crowd of people. Perhaps he could gain a moment of rest and muster up the courage to ask a stranger for his parents. 

The area he entered was empty, a few animal cages stored behind the tents. He wasn’t paying attention to where he was stepping. Suddenly, his heel caught on a rock and he tumbled backward, his box of popcorn spilling all over the ground. He stared at it, forlorn. The pieces stretched quite a bit, landing in front of one of the cages. 

His eyes raised, catching on a black lump inside the cage, which stirred at the sound of his fall.

A pale hand reached through the bars…

Hongjoong wakes up slowly, squinting at the sun that seeps through a gap in the navy curtains. He gropes for the bed covers, hiking it over his head as goosebumps rise underneath his exposed arms. Instead, he’s met with resistance, the edge of the sheets barely grazing his chin. Frowning, he cracks an eye open and comes face to face with a sleeping Wooyoung.

Hongjoong gasps sharply, immediately sitting up and scooching away, inadvertently waking the other up from his peaceful sleep. Wooyoung whines, stretching out over the extra pillows and grinning up at him. At the far corner of the bed, Yeosang is also curled up, pewter eyes open and watching the two of them.

“What the fuck?” The human hisses. “What are you doing here?”

“Your room is warm,” Wooyoung answers simply as if he finds nothing wrong. A golden head pops up from the edge of the bed and Yunho squints in sleepy confusion.

“What’re they doing here?” he murmurs, resting his chin on the covers. Hongjoong forcefully pulls the sheets up as much as he can over his body, jostling all three of them. 

“Why are you on my bed?!”

“Why not?” Wooyoung asks back, petulant. He tries to curl back up, grabbing the covers as well. “Yunho can sleep in here. Why can’t we?”

“The difference is, Yunho doesn’t sleep right next to me! ”

“But San and Mingi needed the extra bed, so we came in here,” Wooyoung pouts, letting go and crossing his arms. Hongjoong pauses and glances between all of them. Yunho seems to have fallen back asleep, chin still on the corner of the bed. Yeosang watches him warily from the other corner, his feet sliding off. He feels slightly bad then.

“Okay, Yeosang can stay because he stuck at the end, but you can’t sit right there! Go lay down with Yunho or something.”

“No! Why does only Yeosang get to stay?”

“Well, Yeosang isn’t yelling and bothering me right now,” Hongjoong shoots back. He swears he sees the cat hybrid smirk before turning his head the other way. Wooyoung gasps, scandalized for no reason. Before he can complain further, Hongjoong slides out of bed, already awake enough to start his day. He shivers, opening his closet doors and shrugging on a robe. He finds some fuzzy socks to slip on as well. When he turns around, he finds Wooyoung sneaking into his warm spot on the bed.

“No!” He screeches, wide-eyed.

Wooyoung glares at him, but flops onto the floor with a thud, waking Yunho up. Hongjoong huffs, tying his robe up and heading into the hallway. Wooyoung scrambles to follow him and Yunho is not far behind, though he is much less coherent. Yeosang drifts out a few minutes later.

“San and Mingi stayed the night?” Hongjoong whispers as if he hasn’t shouted minutes prior, slowly turning the knob of the guest bedroom door. He peeks in, the two lumps under the covers confirming his question. He quickly closes the door and makes his way downstairs.

“They tried to leave so late last night, I told them to just take the bed,” Wooyoung explains, sidling up to the human as they reach the main floor. Hongjoong points at the kitchen chair, and he obediently sits, crossing his arms over his body. The downstairs is significantly cooler than his room, causing all of them to hunch in on themselves a bit.

“Good morning, Jongho,” Hongjoong says, walking into the living room. The bear hybrid glances up over the back of the couch, tracking the human with sleepy eyes. He has an endearing bedhead, his red hair sticking up and flattened from the throw pillow. Hongjoong wants to come over and smooth it with his hands, but he refrains lest he wants his fingers ripped off.

Hongjoong finds the thermostat on the wall near the stairs. It reads much cooler than it’s supposed to and he frowns, fiddling with the device for a second. He sets the desired temperature much higher, hearing the heat switch on. 

He creeps back towards the couch, noting how Jongho doesn’t tense as much as he used to. Hongjoong pulls out one of the few unused blankets from the basket next to the furniture, wrapping it around himself. Yunho has dragged down the ones from upstairs, so he gives the remaining ones to the other two, who accept it gratefully.

Hongjoong grabs his phone off the counter, checking his notifications. A few texts and social media messages from forgotten friends and acquaintances pop up. In bold at the top, he’s reminded of the date. 

“Ah, it’s my birthday,” he mutters under his breath, clearing the notifications. 

“It’s your birthday?!” Wooyoung yelps, jumping out of his seat. Hongjoong internally curses the hybrid’s super-hearing, turning around.

“Yes, but it’s nothing big,” he tries.

“What do you mean, ‘nothing big?’ It’s your birthday! I don’t have a birthday…” Wooyoung pouts, sinking back into the kitchen chair. The words are like an arrow to Hongjoong’s heart and he winces.

“You don’t have a birthday?” he repeats, stricken. All four hybrids shake their heads.

“None of us do, so you should celebrate yours,” Yunho adds.

“I’ll celebrate it by finally doing my job like normal,” Hongjoong jokes, trying not to dwell on the sad fact. “I have to make deliveries today.”

“Already?” Yeosang remarks, sitting in the chair next to Wooyoung. “You just barely got better.”

“If I don’t get them out today, then I won’t have the finances I need to support us,” Hongjoong says, effectively ending the conversation. 

He ignores the kicked puppy looks both Wooyoung and Yunho send him, complete with lowered ears and adorable pouts. Turning back around, he starts scrounging for breakfast, turning on his coffee pot.

“Don’t worry. I feel fine. And it’s just a lot of driving around town. I’ll be back by dinner,” he reassures, settling a pan on the stove. After second thought, he pulls out another pan, remembering San and Mingi upstairs.

“Guess I’ll have to get used to making food for seven people,” he mutters.

That evening, Hongjoong returns home after a long day of work. He jumps out of his truck, wrapping his large coat tightly around his body as he exits the garage. The winter wind blows into his face, pushing teal bangs off of his forehead. He grins as he walks up to the front porch, spotting two figures.

Mingi yells as he spins around on the gravel path, hefting Jongho more securely onto his back. Jongho’s hands are tightly clasped around the tall bunny’s neck and he wears the biggest gummy smile Hongjoong has ever seen.

It dims as they spot the human coming closer, but doesn’t fade completely. Mingi adjusts his grip on Jongho’s legs, making sure he doesn’t jostle the injury.

“Welcome back,” Mingi says, too loud. He sways back and forth as he talks. “I was giving Jongho the grand tour.”

“Don’t let me stop you,” Hongjoong laughs. “I’ll be in the house.”

He watches them barrel down towards the side of the barn, Mingi’s borrowed coat flapping behind him. Jongho hits Mingi’s chest, yelling at him to slow down. Hongjoong shakes his head fondly, heading up the porch stairs and opening the front door.

“Oh, he’s home!” Wooyoung announces, ears perking as he peers over his shoulder from the couch. He and San are sitting together, wrapped in a blanket. In their laps is Hongjoong’s laptop, playing some obscure drama. It’s plugged in, the charger cord suspended over the floor from the wall outlet. San smiles in greeting.

Yeosang and Yunho are at the kitchen table, playing some kind of board game. They wave at Hongjoong while he hangs his coat and keys.

“What are you playing?” He asks as he pulls off his shoes. The dog hybrid shrugs, flipping a card over onto the board.

“I dunno. Yeosang is the only one who can read, but he can’t figure out the rules, so we’re making them up as we go.”

Hongjoong hums, his lips thinning at the mention of illiteracy. He nudges the two on the couch, squeezing in with them and stretching his legs on the coffee table.

“Sorry to interrupt your show there, but I need my laptop,” he says, giggling at their shared groans. He wiggles his fingers, grabbing the device out of Wooyoung’s reluctant hands.

“I just need to make sure of some things, then you can have your drama back, okay?” He stays true to his word, checking his work progress for the day, reviewing receipts, and confirming orders. 

After a few minutes, he finishes and closes out of his tabs, returning to the drama. He’s about to push it back, but Wooyoung stops him.

“Just play it,” he mumbles, resting his head on the human’s shoulder. Hongjoong peeks and sees San’s head on Wooyoung’s shoulder. Both stare at him, silently imploring him to stay. Eventually, he gives in, tapping the spacebar and settling in.

Wooyoung’s soft pointed ear tickles Hongjoong’s cheek as he snuggles closer. The human sighs in content, not really focusing on the drama at all. He feels himself drift off, comfortable after a satisfying day returning to work. 

Hongjoong watched, frozen, as the hand stretched, fingers ripping at the grass. It was small, plucking one of the pieces of spilled popcorn and retracting back into the shadows of the cage. He traced the movement of the popcorn as it went up, up, up, and disappeared into a mouth. Shocked black eyes met brown, and Hongjoong found himself face to face with a boy who didn’t look much older than him.

“Please don’t tell anyone I ate that,” the boy pleaded. “I’m not allowed to have it, but I’m so hungry…”

Little Hongjoong shook his head frantically. “I won’t, I promise.”

After a moment of contemplation, he crept forward, scooping as much of the popcorn he can into the box and shakily presenting it to the stranger. “Here. You can have it. I don’t want it anymore.”

Up close, he saw the peculiar slope of the boy’s nose and unusual silver hair. The same bony hand stuck out, snatching the popcorn out of Hongjoong’s hands. Before he withdrew completely, the human noticed the drape of ebony feathers obscuring the rest of his arm.

“Why are you in a cage?”

The other gave him a smile too bitter for a child before shoving food into his mouth. “I’m part of the show. They keep animals in cages here.”

A sharp nail pokes his cheek, jerking him to alertness. Hongjoong rouses, blinking heavily. His vision clears and he realizes he’s nose to nose with Mingi. The human flinches back as Mingi laughs, straightening from where he was leaning over the couch. Wooyoung’s finger, which was poking his face, retracts as he doubles over in high-pitched laughter as well.

“I didn’t think you’d actually get scared,” Mingi admits, his wide grin showing off crooked teeth. Hongjoong glances around, remembering where he is. The blanket has been tucked around his body and the closed laptop is on the coffee table. Wooyoung and San stare at him curiously.

“The show finished an hour ago. We can’t let you sleep forever,” Wooyoung complains.

“Says you,” San retaliates. “You’re the one who wanted to snuggle with him for the past hour!”

“You weren’t opposed to it, either!” Wooyoung defends, his face red. Hongjoong tries to ignore the heat in his own face.

“Whatever,” Mingi cuts in, nonchalantly flipping one of his long ears over his shoulder. “Yunho said to wake you guys up so Hongjoong can make dinner.”

The human groans, rubbing his hand over his face before getting up. Mingi eagerly takes his place on the couch and strikes a conversation with Wooyoung and San. Hongjoong makes his way over to the kitchen table, where Jongho has joined Yunho and Yeosang in their made-up game. Jongho’s leg rests on the chair opposite, stretching underneath the table.

“What game are you playing now?” Hongjoong asks, sitting at one of the chairs at the end of the table away from Jongho, just in case.

“You pick a color and flip the card and if it matches the color you keep the card. Whoever has the most cards at the end wins,” Yunho explains. “You can tell who’s winning.” 

Yeosang is unable to suppress his smirk as he reveals his ongoing stack of cards. He certainly looks like a cat that caught the canary.

Jongho scoffs, fidgeting with one of his few cards. “That’s because he’s cheating.”

“No, I’m not!” Yeosang pouts, ears laid back and voice barely raising.

“Yes, you are! Yunho told me you’re the one who can read. I bet you’re reading the colors on the cards before you flip them!”

“That’s not how it works! It’s the same word on the back of all the cards! I’m not cheating!”

Yunho makes eye contact with Hongjoong and they laugh a little. “It’s been like this every round since Jongho joined.”

“I see,” Hongjoong says. He pulls out his phone and sets it on the tabletop, scrolling through it mindlessly. “I don’t feel like making dinner,” he mutters to himself. Yunho, uninterested in the continued squabble of the other two, tilts his head.

“It’s still your birthday. You should make one of us make something. Or get… what’s it called? Outside food? Take your food?” His brows furrow as he finds the right word. “Oh, takeout food!”

“That is tempting,” Hongjoong hums. “It’s risky ordering something here. But I don’t want to go out again.” He groans, fingers tapping against the wood.

“In the past, I’ve seen humans order pizza and the children hide when the parent answers the door. Why can’t we do that?” Yunho points out. The human ruminates, liking the idea more and more.

“You know what, fine. I’ll order pizza. You guys can just hide upstairs and I can look like a weirdo for ordering three large pizzas for myself,” he decides.

“We’re getting pizza?” Wooyoung yells, head popping up from the couch. “I want meat! I never got to have pepperoni pizza before, but I stole one from the trash once!”

“I don’t know how our owner didn’t catch you,” Yeosang remarks. “You were not quiet.”

“Life is boring when all you eat is fancy dog kibble,” Wooyoung shoots back. “As if you weren’t enjoying that old pizza with me.”

Hongjoong silently adds extra pepperoni and sausage to the pizza order he started in an app. Yunho snickers, leaning over and watching him. After inputting his address and applying a coupon, he submits the order.

“And now we wait,” he announces, turning his phone off.  “Why don’t I teach you how to actually play this game?”

“But you’re not an animal?” Hongjoong wondered. “So why would they put you in a cage?”

The boy paused, looking him up and down. “Who are you? You’re not supposed to be back here.”

“I’m Hongjoong, and I’m lost,” he answered plainly. “Who are you?”

“...I’m Seonghwa.”

“There’s someone here.”

Hongjoong blinks back to reality at the sound of Yunho’s alarmed voice. After an hour of playing the game, he must have zoned out. He squints out the window over the kitchen sink, spotting headlights turning onto the gravel driveway.

“That must be the delivery guy. Quick, everyone, upstairs!” He stands up, shoving all the cards into the middle of the board. Chairs squeal against the floor as the hybrids get up from their large game and book it up the stairs. Jongho struggles, pushing the table in his attempt to leave.

“Jongho, you can stay. You’re registered, remember? I don’t want you to push yourself too hard. Just put this hat on,” the human says, tossing a beanie his way.

He answers the door, fishing his wallet out of his hanging coat. The delivery man is bored as he hands over the three large pizzas. He does not comment on the lack of people compared to the amount of food ordered. Hongjoong makes sure to give him a generous tip as he pays, waving courteously before closing the door with his foot. 

He watches the delivery man get into his car and drive away before moving back into the kitchen. Jongho doesn’t bother taking off the beanie he was given, attention snagged by the new food.

“You can come back downstairs!” Hongjoong announces as he slides the pizzas onto the counter, opening them one by one. Footsteps thunder down the stairs behind him and he’s immediately assaulted.

“It smells so good ,” Wooyoung gushes, using the human’s shoulders to jump up and down.

“What did you get?” Yunho asks, his golden tail thumping against Hongjoong’s leg as he moves next to him.

“One with everything on it, one with all meat, and one with just cheese, in case someone doesn’t like anything,” he says, indicating to each pizza. 

“Boo, should’ve just gotten all meat,” Wooyoung says.

“I don’t eat meat!” Mingi protests at the same time that San says “Mingi’s vegetarian.”

“Oh, rabbits are herbivores,” Hongjoong realizes belatedly, scratching the back of his head. “Well, good thing I got cheese.”

He lets them choose what they want, piling slices onto their paper plates and sitting at the table. The previous game is completely abandoned, the contents shoved towards the middle to make space for dinner. Once again, Hongjoong finds himself standing while the rest of the hybrids sit. He even brought all extra chairs from the basement storage, but the six hybrids still outnumbered him. He rests his hip on the side of the table, slowly eating his one giant slice of everything pizza. Half of them have inhaled their portions, already on their third or fourth slice. Jongho munches thoughtfully on an everything pizza slice while Yeosang has grease all over the corners of his mouth.

Hongjoong huffs, picking up his napkin and leaning in to wipe it off. The cat hybrid freezes until he's done and smiles sheepishly.

“This is so good ,” San exclaims, his tail swishing in happiness.

“I see why humans like pizza so much,” Jongho mumbles around a bite. Mingi nods vigorously, a string of cheese hanging out of his mouth.

“I’m glad you like it,” Hongjoong laughs.

“Happy birthday, Hongjoong,” Yunho says. The rest of them echo the statement, Wooyoung going as far as to fake toast with his half-eaten slice. They continue their game after they finish, laughing and shouting late into the evening.

That night, the human went to bed with sore cheeks from smiling so hard.

“You should go,” Seonghwa murmured, finished with the popcorn. He pushed the empty paper box back into Hongjoong’s hands, a few feathers falling off of his weird coat.

“Aren’t you hot in that? You can take your coat off,” Hongjoong noticed. The boy made a face, staring incredulously through tangled grey hair.

“It’s not a coat.” He punctuated his sentence with a lift of his arm, revealing a full wing attached to the limb. Iridescent feathers ruffled with every movement, glinting in diffused sunlight. Hongjoong’s jaw dropped.

“Woah,” he breathed. 

Seonghwa shrank back into himself, curling his arms around his small body.

“You’re very pretty,” Hongjoong informed. The boy scoffed.

“That’s what everyone says. But then they also say I’m a freak, or that I’m just an animal,” he muttered.

“No, you’re not!” Hongjoong argued as if he were the one insulted.

The boy took in his distraught expression. “I’m not?”

“No,” he confirmed. “It’s not very nice to put someone as pretty as you in a cage.”

“Tell that to my owners,” Seonghwa mumbled, expression sour, eyes suddenly darting around. “Who might find us. You should go. I don’t want them to see you and lock you up, too.”

Days passed and life went back to some semblance of normal. Hongjoong returned to his daily routine, waking up with his alarm and tending to the farm. A few days of the week he would go out and complete errands while the rest of them completed chores at home. Subconsciously, they fell into a system. During their free time, Hongjoong made sure to engage with them all as best he could.

One day, a few weeks later, Hongjoong sits on the bed of the spare bedroom, shuffling through a bin of nail polish. The previous white that was painted on his pinky had chipped off. Yunho and Mingi join him, picking out potential pretty colors to use next. 

Yunho has a pile of dark colors, ranging from black to navy to royal blue. Mingi looks cross-eyed as he brings each bottle up close to his nose, confirming the color and glitter before setting it back down on the quilted bed cover. After a few minutes of this, Hongjoong presses Mingi’s knee, catching his attention.

“Can you not see very well?” he asks. Chestnut eyes refocus on him, surprised.

“What do you mean?”

Hongjoong gestures to the polish bottle in his hand. “You keep straining your eyes to look at these. I do the same when I’m staring at a screen for too long.”

“Uh—yeah, actually,” Mingi admits, rubbing at the inside corners of his eyes. “Things are pretty blurry unless I really look at them.”

“Hold on, I think I may have something.” The human slides off the bed, heading to the painted dresser and rummaging through the drawers. With a small aha! Hongjoong brandishes a small glasses case, bringing it back to the bed.

He opens the case, revealing delicate, gold, wire-framed glasses. Mingi gasps softly, a comical hand covering his mouth. 

“These are my father’s old reading glasses. They’re a bit too strong of a prescription for me, but they might work for you,” Hongjoong explains, placing the glasses into Mingi’s open palm.

“Are you sure?” Mingi whispers, gingerly opening the sides and sliding it onto his face. He blinks a few times, eyes focusing more clearly on Hongjoong’s face. A smile blooms on his face and the human can’t help but mirror it, clapping his hands a little.

“Can you see better?”

“Yes!” Mingi gushes, bouncing up and down. “It’s not perfect, but it’s way better than I ever dreamed of. Thank you so much,” his voice breaks a bit at the end.

“Hey, it still works. I’m glad you can put them to use instead of letting them collect dust.” Hongjoong picks up a bright blue nail polish bottle. “So how do we feel about this color?”

“It matches your hair,” Yunho observes. He holds out the shiny black polish. “Can I wear this one on my pinky?”

“I want this one!” Mingi shakes a sheer shimmery nude. “I want it on all my nails, please!”

Hongjoong giggles, already shaking the bottles. “Of course.”

Little Hongjoong’s face fell. “I’m sorry. I wish I could take you home with me. My parents have a farm. You could fly around there.”

Seonghwa nodded jerkily, not quite paying attention to his words. “Go. I can hear people coming.” He reached through the bars again, his frail hands fervently pushing Hongjoong away from him. Feathers shed off his body, drifting into the tall green grass. At the last minute, the boy leaned down and picked up one, stuffing it in his popcorn box.

“Goodbye! It was nice talking to you,” he yelled, running off in the direction he came. Seonghwa waved weakly as he left.

“Hongjoong! Where have you been?” His mother demanded half an hour later, finally locating him near a ticket booth. The little boy only shrugged as his mother hugged him fiercely, unable to keep the image of Seonghwa out of his mind.

He woke up slowly one morning, agitated from some sort of dream or memory. The digital clock on his nightstand read 4:32 in the morning, much earlier than his alarm. Hongjoong breathes in and out for a few minutes, debating whether or not to try and fall back asleep. Eventually, he gives up, squinting to discern his surroundings. Wooyoung and Yeosang are sharing his bed again, as they’re inclined to do ever since he let them the first time. San and Mingi must have stayed the night again. This time, Wooyoung has made his way under the covers, facing him and hugging one of Hongjoong’s spare pillows. Yeosang remains on top, on the other side of the bed, back to back with Wooyoung. They’re still fast asleep.

He carefully folds over the sheets so as not to jostle them. Then he slides out, taking his time so the floorboards don’t creak too much under his weight. Yunho stirs underneath his pile of blankets as he passes, but does not wake up.

He tiptoes down the stairs, praying that he doesn’t wake Jongho on the couch. Despite the calm of early morning, he was suffocating. He gulps, creeping into the kitchen and unplugging his phone, quickly turning down the brightness. After a moment of contemplation, he grabs his winter coat and puts on his slippers. He unlocks the front door, stepping outside and shutting it behind him. Latching the screen door, he rests his head on the wood. The chilly air fills his sinuses and calms him down.

Hongjoong turns around, going to sit on the porch, but he pauses as something glints out of the corner of his eye. He looks down, eyes adjusting to the light.

A spoon sits in the middle of the porch, right in front of his feet. 

He frowns. Why is there a singular spoon cast away outside? Perhaps someone got distracted as they went to the barn and dropped it? Or has it been meticulously placed? 

He leans down and picks it up, inspecting the silver utensil. His thumb traces the unfamiliar grooves on the handle, a pattern that doesn’t match any of his current silverware. How in the world did a spoon end up here? He shrugs to himself, pocketing the object and settling in his grandmother’s chair. Rocking back and forth, he stares blankly into the darkness.

He feels a little better. Vacantly, he wonders: what made him so viscerally upset in the first place?

Eventually, there came a day when Jongho’s cast was ready to be removed. All members of the house had varying levels of excitement and worry, no one more so than Jongho himself. Hongjoong researched extensively in an extreme effort to not take the poor bear hybrid back to the veterinarian. After days of sitting on his laptop, scrolling through various websites and blog posts on how to remove a cast, he felt slightly ready. 

The shower in the mudroom had been prepared with a giant bucket of warm water. A stool sits on the tile next to the bucket near the wall railing in case anyone falls. Several towels and a trash bag are folded just outside the shallow tub.

That afternoon, Hongjoong had a bit of free time after finishing paperwork. Yunho, Wooyoung, and Yeosang were in the barn, taking care of the chickens and tidying up the barn. San accompanied them, somehow glued to Wooyoung’s side these days. Only Mingi and Jongho remained inside with him, sitting on the couch while he worked at the kitchen table.

The youngest is apprehensive as Hongjoong approaches. The human holds up his hands skirting around the back of the couch and stopping where Mingi’s legs prop up on the coffee table.

“Jongho, I’m not going to hurt you. You know that by now,” Hongjoong reassures. “Would you rather Mingi carry you to the mudroom?”

The boy shakes his head, his small mouth set in a defiant pout. Long red locks fall into his eyes, also hiding the rounded bear ears on his head.

“I can walk there by myself,” he says, bracing his hands on the arm of the couch. Hongjoong and Mingi share a look, hovering over him as he pulls himself up. Jongho glances between their worried hands, scoffing.

“See? I can get up on my own now.” He hobbles across the main floor, through the kitchen, and into the mudroom. Hongjoong follows and Mingi’s tall frame lingers in the doorway. Hongjoong directs the younger onto the stool, scooting the filled bucket by his feet.

“Jongho, in order for this to come off, you have to let me touch you. Can I please help you?” Hongjoong gestures to the heavy plaster cast. Jongho’s eyebrows scrunch as his eyes flicker between him and Mingi. Hongjoong glances back to see Mingi nod encouragingly, adjusting the gold frames on his nose.

“Sure,” Jongho mutters grudgingly. Hongjoong smiles, short and sweet, before reaching towards the injured ankle. The bear hybrid shies away at first, but lets his small fingers cradle the plaster. He guides the foot into the bucket of warm water. It spills over the top, wetting Jongho’s pant leg up to the knee and soaking the front of Hongjoong’s shirt. The human’s face burns and he can feel the two hybrids’ eyes on his now see-through white shirt.

Thankfully, neither of them comment on his unruly appearance. The next half hour or so is spent wrestling the cast off of Jongho’s leg. With some scissors and elbow grease, he manages to loosen the cast enough for Jongho to start wiggling out. 

“I’m so sorry if I’m hurting you,” he blurts, prying open the top as best he can. Jongho shakes his head, leaning forward and bracing himself on the stool.

“You’re not,” he reassures. “I have a high pain tolerance and healing rate. It comes with hybrid genetics, I guess. Though this is not fun, it’s not the worst thing in the world. Especially if it means I can be free again.”

The hopeful uplift at the end of his words is like a knife twisting in Hongjoong’s heart. His efforts are bolstered, the material disintegrating underneath his hands. Jongho kicks at the cast, wincing but not stopping as it loosens even more. Eventually, with a final yank, his ankle is free from the clunky cast.

“Oh my god,” Hongjoong whispers, observing the new scar that takes up a majority of Jongho’s exposed ankle. It’s much more healed than any human would be, but it’s still a fresh wound. Jongho rolls his ankle once, twice, and then tries to stand.

“Woah, woah, hold on,” Hongjoong warns, instinctively putting his hand on Jongho’s knee. The younger freezes, but does not wrench his body away.

“I’d still advise against walking too much,” he continues, wiping his other hand on his work pants. Jongho frowns, mouth opening, but he beats him to it. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t go outside on your own now.”

Jongho’s frown immediately transforms into a rare gummy smile. Hongjoong’s breath is stolen as he realizes this smile is directed at him . He releases his knee, grabbing the bucket and pieces of the cast and moving them out of the way. 

“Here, dry off first.” He chucks one of the folded towels in Jongho’s direction. “Please take a coat and some shoes before you go outside. I don’t want to have to treat you for frostbite, too.”

Jongho quickly follows his request, dropping the towel into a haphazard heap and limping over to the side entrance. Like the front door, the side door in the mudroom has its own shoe and coat rack. He fumbles as he slips on some large mismatched rain boots and a wind jacket. Before Hongjoong can say anything else, he’s disappeared outside.

The human sighs, shaking his head and smiling fondly. Though Jongho has been guarded and distant the few weeks he was confined to his house, it was nice to see the other less stressed and more excited. Hongjoong crouches over the mess left behind, picking up the plaster pieces and shoving them into a trash bag. He dumps the bucket and rinses the stray pieces of dirt and debris down the drain. After kicking the towel towards the washing machine, he turns and comes face to face with Mingi, who is still in the doorframe.

But Mingi’s eyes are not meeting Hongjoong’s. He traces his line of sight downwards to his still damp and still slightly see-through shirt. Hongjoong’s hands fly up to cover his chest as his face starts to burn.

“What do you think you’re looking at?!” He blubbers. Mingi gives him a lazy grin.

“Nothing,” he sing-songs, brushing past the human and following Jongho outside.

Hongjoong huffs, stomping back into the kitchen. He leans on the kitchen sink for a bit, watching all the hybrids frolic outside through the window. Despite the empty landscape and muted dead grass, they're lively as they talk and chase each other. 

His cheeks are hurting again. Hongjoong massages the impending smile lines as he meanders to the front door. Shrugging on a coat and some winter boots, he opens the front door to join them. 

However, he doesn’t get further than closing the door behind him when his foot hits something. It skitters and clatters a little, catching his attention. Hongjoong’s brow furrows as he fully realizes what’s on the porch.

There, sitting on the peeling white paint, is another spoon. This time it’s gold. Hongjoong’s blood runs cold as he catches something else trapped underneath it, almost blowing away in the wind.

An ebony feather.

Hongjoong felt sick to his stomach. Even as far back in the stands as he was, he could still see Seonghwa in the show. He craned his neck up, eyes tracing the small figure flying from the trapeze. As the cheery music played, one of the adult humans forced him to sail through the air.

Over and over. 

Over and over.

The poor boy looked like he wanted to be anywhere else.

“Hongjoong, did you not like it?” His father asked, worried, once the show was over. 

The little boy could not answer, the image of a suffering Seonghwa burned into his memory.

Chapter Text

People cannot live alone

Don’t leave me now

Don’t leave me now

Take me please out of the dark

Take me please out of the calm

I don't even deserve this pain

I'll give it back and go away, take me now

-Take Me Home

Hongjoong gets the feeling that he’s being watched.

It isn’t anything too concerning, but it's been persistent for the past week. Ever since he found the gold spoon, he’s been on edge. It sits on the kitchen counter, next to the silver spoon he found the week prior. The feather was shoved in one of his coat pockets, unseen to anyone but him.

He’s noticed that his boys have been more on edge for a few days, too. They won’t admit it, but he’s caught them watching the perimeter of his farm, some even… rubbing their faces on things. Scenting, according to some quick research. Yeosang may get away with bumping his cheek on the barn door, but Mingi sure can’t. The rabbit tried to pass it off as an itchy chin but the human wasn’t buying it. Hongjoong finds himself googling the weirdest of questions as he tries to understand his hybrid friends.

He sits alone in the kitchen on another quiet morning. It’s still early, but the sun is peeking out of the horizon, painting the sky and the white cabinets of the kitchen a pretty shade of pink. He traces the rim of his chipped mug with a finger. Finally, the amalgamation of kitchenware is being used, but with more clumsy bodies, it leads to more cracked plates and mugs, to say the least. He’s only had to clean one shattered bowl this week. Note to self, keep a happy Yunho away from coffee tables during breakfast.

A black shadow shifts in the corner of his eye. Hongjoong glances subtly to his left out the window. He frowns when all he sees is the usual expanse of empty fields. Perhaps just a bird, but his intuition tells him otherwise. Hongjoong slides out of his chair at the kitchen table, standing fully in front of the glass. The panes fog up with his breath and he can feel the ghost of winter slowly seeping through. His unfocused gaze sweeps over the dull dirt and morning frost, taking in the view. His thoughts are still muddled, as they usually are when the sun has barely risen. He’s more of a night owl, yet every day he wakes up before sunrise without fail. The life of a farmer.

The shadow passes once more. Hongjoong frowns, blinking back to reality. He cranes his neck forward and up, hissing when his cheek squishes against the window. He really can’t see where the shadow is going but he knows it's there, somewhere on his roof. When nothing happens and his cheek is numb with condensation, he sighs and gives up.

“Hongjoong?” The sudden murmur right by his ear makes him jump two feet. He whips his head around, face red, and meets the inquisitive gaze of a particular cat hybrid.

“Yeosang, god. How long were you there?” He yelps, wiping the cold wetness off of his cheek. The other smiles in that cute way, all cheek and barely any teeth. 

“Not very long,” he reassures. His spotted ears twitch and he perks up, looking past Hongjoong. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, just, um. Watching the birds. I was trying to see one on the roof.”

The other hums, attention completely diverted. His pupils dilate and shrink, fixed on something outside. Hongjoong glances out and sure enough, there are a few crows in the field. He lets out an unintentional relieved sigh. The human laughs a little, reaching out and petting Yeosang’s head. To his surprise, the other purrs, leaning into the touch as he remains focused on the birds. Hongjoong is content to watch the birds with the other, idly petting behind his ears until the others wake up.

A few hours later, when everyone’s up and they’re all huddled at the kitchen table for breakfast, San speaks up.

“Now that Jongho can walk around, he wants to leave for a bit. Mingi and I are going to go with him.”

Hongjoong pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth. “Uh, that’s alright? Where are you going? How long?”

San shrugs, pushing his empty plate away. “I dunno. I’m not the one planning this.” He turns an accusatory look on Jongho, who huffs.

“Maybe a day, maybe more. We’re going back to the clearing that we usually live in. I miss it, and I’m tired of being stuck in one spot,” the other explains, juggling an apple in his hands.

“Is this place safe? Are you going to be alright in the cold? I can give you some of my coats.”

“It’s fine,” Jongho says flatly, smoothly breaking his apple. “We survived this long there without you, I think we’ll be alright.”

Mingi smacks Jongho’s arm from where he sits next to him. Hongjoong tries to hide the twinge of hurt from his words. San rolls his eyes, plucking an apple half out of Jongho’s hands and munching on it.

“Ignore him, he’s grateful for your hospitality, even if he doesn’t show it,” he mumbles as he chews. 

“You don’t have to give us anything. We really appreciate everything you’ve done for us, but like Jongho said, we know how to get by on our own,” Mingi adds, stealing the other half of Jongho’s apple.

“Hey, I was going to eat that!” the younger complains, hands now empty. Wooyoung snorts, chucking another apple at the bear hybrid, who catches it easily.

“I would sleep better at night if you guys at least took some coats. At least, take some of my fashion ones that I never wear anymore. They’re in the basement somewhere,” Hongjoong offers, finishing his coffee.

Later that day, Hongjoong finds his extra coats, bringing them out of the dusty basement and handing them to the three hybrids at the front door. San and Jongho shrug on theirs without comment. Mingi is most excited about his, admiring the black and white abstract pattern.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do some last-minute laundry so you have clean clothes? Or make some lunch for you to take with? Although I’d have to find some tupperware…”

“No,” San emphasizes, shaking his head and grinning. “This is more than enough, I swear.”

“I just don’t want anything to happen that I could’ve helped with…”

“It’s not like we’re going to war like the characters in Wooyoung’s show, Hongjoong. We’ll be fine.”

The human sighs. “Alright. Don’t strain yourselves, okay? Especially you, Jongho.”

The other rolls his healing ankle instead of answering. Mingi hops up and down, his excitement palpable. San’s tail swishes, also indicating his bright mood. 

“Come back soon, please? It’ll be weird without you guys if you stay away for too long,” Hongjoong requests, trying not to sound too desperate.

All three glance at each other. “We’ll see,” San returns cryptically. 

He shoves at Jongho, who pushes Mingi out the door first. A blast of cold wind enters the house as they leave, jumping down the porch steps and racing across the driveway. Hongjoong hurries after them, shivering in his pajamas, but stops at the edge of the porch. Yunho pauses from where he was working in the barn, coming out to see them leave.

“Goodbye!” Hongjoong yells, an uneasy feeling never leaving his gut. San looks over his shoulder, waving happily as the three exit the property line and enter the fields.

Hongjoong’s socked toes hit something small and he looks down. He spies some loose change piled on the porch, unnoticed by anyone but him. Unlike with the spoons, he’s not as surprised anymore, the uneasy feeling growing into his heart as he stoops down and picks the coins up one by one.

He pockets the change, glancing up and watching his three friends slowly smudge and disappear into the horizon line.

Once again, he finds himself up earlier than his alarm, staring at the blank popcorn ceiling of his room. The bed is much more spacious and empty without Wooyoung and Yeosang. They returned to the guest bedroom since San and Mingi no longer took it. As much as he hates to admit it, he likes when the two invade his personal space. Perhaps that was why he couldn’t sleep.

Breathing deeply, his fingers splay out over the quilt. The incoming winter finally became cold enough that he unpacked some quilts and added them to the beds. They make the bed that much cozier, but right now, he’s itching out of his skin. 

Sighing, he folds back the layers of quilt, comforter, blanket, and sheets, exposing his small body to the cold. Immediately, he shivers, sitting tense while his body adjusts to the drop in temperature.

Yunho doesn’t budge underneath his pile of blankets, deep asleep. Hongjoong inches past him, exiting his room and standing in the middle of the hall. He pauses for a few seconds which stretch into minutes. His mind is filled with early morning cotton, the passage of time lost with exhaustion. 

Briefly, he thinks to check on the two in his guest room, shuffling quietly. The floorboards groan under his weight and he curses silently, hoping they don’t wake. His hand wraps around the doorknob and he turns it, creaking the door open and poking his head in.

Two pairs of reflective eyes stare back at him.

Hongjoong jumps, sucking in a breath and trying not to cough at the suddenness.

“Sorry,” he whispers to the two who are apparently coherent. “Did I wake you?”

“It’s alright,” Wooyoung whispers back. “Can’t sleep?”

Hongjoong shakes his head, leaning on the doorframe. “No. I just wanted to check in on you guys. I didn’t mean to make so much noise but I can’t control the house.”

“You stepped on every loud floorboard you could,” Yeosang jokes, resting his head on Wooyoung’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” Hongjoong winces. “Go back to sleep. I’ll just be downstairs if you need me.”

He closes the door, turning around and attempting to hop over what he guessed were the creaky parts of the floor. The sudden pop of wood tells him he failed. Scoffing at himself, he decides to descend the stairs normally and enters the empty main floor.

Instinctively, he glances at the couch, where there is no Jongho to be found. He tries to ignore the swell of disappointment in his chest. The others are taking a well-deserved break from him; he has no reason to feel sad about the absence of a hybrid who never wanted to be with him in the first place.

He walks into the kitchen, leaning his elbows on the ledge of the sink and peering out the window. There are crows in the field again. Brow furrowing, he realizes those birds have been flocking to his farm quite a bit lately.

The jittery feeling in his chest grows. He glares at the innocent spoons and spare change that scatter on the counter next to him. 

What if… 

He shakes away the thought, rubbing the goosebumps off of his arms. Unable to stand still, he moves to the living room, pacing around the coffee table. He opens the curtains of every window, the meager light of dawn filtering into the house.

Another crow flies away from where it was perched on a bush outside the window. Hongjoong traces it as it lands on the roof of the barn. Multiple other crows also sit on the barn. 

The jittery feeling transforms into unsettlement. 

Hongjoong gulps, already hating the idea of going outside but unable to stop himself as he walks to the front door. He pulls on his heavy winter coat, the black one that covers down to his knees, and stuffs his socked feet into work boots. 

Using his phone as a flashlight, he fishes out the feather he stuffed in his coat pocket, observing it closely. Despite its sleek texture and iridescence, it’s also duller and much larger than he knows a crow feather to be.

He makes up his mind, unlocking the front door and stepping outside. He makes sure to close but not lock the door behind him, wary of the upcoming heating bill. Sweeping the flashlight in front of him, he goes down the porch steps and travels across the gravel. The red barn looms in front of him, the sliding door warning him to stay away.

He huffs, unlocking the door and hefting it open, slipping in once the opening is wide enough. He waves his phone flashlight, but doesn’t see anything but the concrete ground and organized tools.

Hongjoong frowns, reaching in front of himself blindly. After locating a flimsy string, he pulls, clicking on a lightbulb. The space around him is illuminated, revealing nothing but his annoyed chickens in their pen. They titter, providing some familiar background noise that calms his nerves. Yet there is a feeling he can’t shake, the same feeling of being watched that he’s noticed for the past week. 

His eyes snag on another black feather nestled in the hay near the chicken pen and things start to click into place.

Hongjoong bites his lip, squeezing his eyes shut and grounding himself with a deep breath. Slowly, he tilts his head back, searching the support beams overhead. Squinting in the dim, he catches a large form perched mere feet above him.

Shiny black eyes pierce through the darkness of the barn. He barely stops himself from screaming.

“Hello, Hongjoong.” 

Hongjoong’s heart jumps in his throat. Everything he’d suspected and dreaded is suddenly coming true.

“S-Seonghwa?” The name is foreign in his mouth, something distantly known but never spoken aloud.

The figure shifts around, dropping down from the support beams. The descent is a slow one, the rush of air from the fall catching on huge obsidian wings. They flare out, making Hongjoong gasp sharply and stumble back a few steps.

Seonghwa lands heavily, his knees buckling a little. Feathers shed off with the impact, scattering onto the dirty floor. His eyes never leave Hongjoong’s as he stumbles forward, now exposed under the warm yellow light of the barn.

A ripped tank top covers his torso while still giving his arms movement. Loose black pants with many patches drape over his legs and drag on the floor, obscuring bare feet. Bony arms reach up around his middle, the wings attached to it following and covering his body. Hongjoong’s lips purse as he faintly recognizes his straight nose and dark silver hair.

“Your hair is blue and you are older, yet you still are the same Hongjoong I met all those years ago,” Seonghwa speaks quietly, his head tilting. “Do you remember me?”

“I-I do,” Hongjoong stutters, still recovering from the shock. “You were from the circus. How… how are you here now?”

Seonghwa’s breathing is labored. “It’s a long story—“

“Hongjoong!”

Their moment is broken by the frantic shout. The human whirls around to see Yunho’s pale face as the barn door is slammed open. His frightened eyes jump between the two, narrowing threateningly as he races towards them.

“Yunho, no!” Hongjoong yelps, grabbing the dog hybrid’s wrist as he barrels past, baring his sharp teeth. Yunho strains against his grip, ears flat as he firmly places himself in front of Hongjoong. “Yunho, calm down!”

“But there’s a stranger!” he protests, his head whipping back to the human. 

“Yunho, it’s okay, I swear,” Hongjoong says, trying to keep his voice as firm as his grasp. The other takes in his pleading stare and thankfully steps back, still on guard.

Hongjoong glances back at Seonghwa, who holds his own frame defensively, watching Yunho with dark eyes. His hopeful expression has shuttered into one of… envy? Jealousy?

“Seonghwa, what… what are you doing here?” The human slowly releases his hold on Yunho’s wrist, crossing his arms over his chest.

Yunho’s head cocks in confusion, soft brown eyes flickering between them. “Do you know him?”

He waves him off, attention glued to a cowering Seonghwa.

“I needed shelter,” the other admits, fiddling with his own fingers.

“Why?” Hongjoong pushes when he doesn’t elaborate.

“Remember the circus? They kept me both alive and trapped for however many years of my life… but…” Seonghwa shakes his head, mouth set in a bitter grimace. “They dropped me the moment I couldn’t properly work anymore.”

Hongjoong frowns. “Why?” he repeats like a broken record.

“I can’t… I can’t fly anymore,” Seonghwa reveals, his voice cracking as his face falls with desperation.

Hongjoong’s breath catches. Even Yunho looks stricken.

“At first, I thought I was going to die anyway, lost in the middle of nowhere,” Seonghwa continues. “But the crows, they told me there was a place nearby. I swear, I didn’t know it was you at first. But as I made my way here, I saw you come home. And I recognized you.”

He gulps, his eyes shining. “I couldn’t believe it. Maybe it’s fate, maybe it’s just luck. I hoped that you would be just as kind hearted now as you were all those years ago. And after seeing all these other hybrids love you so much, I know it’s true. I can only hope you will extend your kindness to me, and not shun me, too. Please, I have nowhere else to go.”

The rush of words leave Hongjoong stunned. Parts of it sounded rehearsed, like he’d been running through scenarios over and over of meeting Hongjoong in person. Yunho snakes his arm around the human’s, stepping closer.

“What’s going on? What is he talking about?” He implores, his breath fogging up between them. It reminds Hongjoong that they’re outside in the early morning winter chill, and only Hongjoong has a proper coat on. He studies Seonghwa’s shivering frame and makes an executive decision.

“Let’s go inside first,” he tries. “You and I can explain ourselves over some coffee instead of out here in the cold.”

Yunho’s fingers tighten in warning, his concerned expression never leaving. The human smiles reassuringly, petting behind Yunho’s ears.

“Are you sure?” Seonghwa breaks in, his gaze glued to the hand rubbing Yunho’s hair. “I don’t want to be a burden. It’s bad enough that I’m holing up in your barn.”

Hongjoong shakes his head, now familiar with the situation of another wary hybrid. “Please, I’ll only worry more if you stay out here.”

He gestures to the open door, walking backwards and tugging Yunho along. Seonghwa follows with slow steps, the edges of his wings dragging on the ground.

Hongjoong keeps tabs on him out of the corner of his eye. They exit the barn, Seonghwa trailing behind as he struggles to cross the gravel with his bare feet. Yunho doesn’t let go of Hongjoong’s arm, shuddering as the adrenaline wears off and winter freeze seeps in his body. 

Wooyoung and Yeosang peek out from the open front door. Only the screen door is closed, a result of Yunho’s haste. The two in the house watch warily as Hongjoong enters, moving out of the way. They hide behind the human as he holds the door open for Seonghwa, glaring in warning.

“Please, sit down there. I’ll be over soon, let me take off my coat first…” Hongjoong invites, almost tripping as he kicks off his boots. The other’s head swivels as he studies the interior of the house, shuffling into the kitchen. He perches sideways on a chair at the end of the table, moving his arms awkwardly so they don’t bump into anything.

The other three hybrids also gravitate towards the table. They sit as far away from the newcomer as possible, but close enough to protect Hongjoong. In the meantime, the human has shrugged off his coat and started the coffee machine.

He clears his throat, unsure of where to start.

“Um, guys, this is Seonghwa. Seonghwa, this is Yunho, Yeosang, and Wooyoung,” he introduces, indicating with his hand.

“There were more of you. Where did the other three go?” Seonghwa asks. The others tense at the question. 

“They don’t live here exclusively, so they went home. They said they’d come back by the end of today, though,” Hongjoong tries to explain.

“How do you know Hongjoong?” Yunho cuts in, leaning over the table.

“We met once, many years ago,” Seonghwa answers simply.

Yunho turns to Hongjoong, confused and hurt. “But I thought I was the first hybrid you met in person?”

Hongjoong shakes his head, holding up his hands. “This was a long time ago. I was a kid, and I didn’t know anything at the time!” he defends.

Seonghwa nods. “We were children. He thought I was wearing a coat at first.” He snorts at the memory, lifting up his wrist where little feathers sprout.

“But if you guys met one time, a long time ago, how the fuck did you find him now? And why?” Wooyoung bursts, his hands grabbing at Yeosang’s.

“Wooyoung, language!”

Seonghwa shrinks in on himself a little. “Well… like I said before, the circus, which was the only place where I could stay alive, decided I wasn’t useful anymore, since I can’t fly. And it was either leave or die, and I don’t want to die,” his voice breaks a little at the end.

Hongjoong bites his lip, choosing not to speak up. He rubs at his chest and pours coffee into three mugs while Seonghwa gathers the strength to continue.

“The other crows told me that I could find shelter here,” he says. As Hongjoong sets the mugs onto the table, Seonghwa tries to meet his eyes. “I swear, I didn’t know it was you at first. I saw you in your truck on the road, and realized this was your farm.”

“You can speak to crows?” Yunho asks, stunned. 

“That’s the part you focus on?” Yeosang mutters.

Seonghwa shrugs, seemingly thankful for the brief change of topic. “Not exactly. I can get a general idea of what they mean and tell them things in return, but I don’t directly speak to them.”

Hongjoong glances at the other hybrids. “Can any of you do that?”

Wooyoung shakes his head. “No… not like him. I could talk to a dog, but it’d be the same as any other human talking to a dog. Well, I guess dogs treat me like one of them but I can’t understand them.”

Yeosang nods. “Same here.”

“So you’re a crow hybrid?” Yunho confirms, his guard lowering.

“Yes.”

“Wow, I’ve never seen or even heard of a bird hybrid,” Yunho says, a bit awestruck.

“Probably because we’re ugly and weird, which is why the circus was the only place that took me in,” Seonghwa murmurs bitterly.

“Don’t say that,” Hongjoong interrupts sharply. “It’s more because you’re very rare. And that is not a bad thing.”

“It’s not a good thing, either,” Yeosang says under his breath, fiddling with one of his spotted ears. Hongjoong winces.

“Anyways…” Wooyoung tries, passing one of the coffee mugs to Yeosang, “How long have you been up there?”

“A few weeks,” Seonghwa admits. He’s met with some shocked gasps. “I stayed out of sight. But I felt bad, like I was stealing from you. So I tried to make up for it by leaving presents.”

Hongjoong sucks in a breath. “So that’s why I keep picking up these spoons and coins!”

A ghost of a smile reaches Seonghwa’s lips. “You noticed. I tried to find shiny things in the fields and by the road. Shiny means it has value, right?”

“I guess so?” Hongjoong hedges. He shakes his head, moving onto a more important question. “How did no one see you?”

“I tried to stay in places no one would look. It seems like it worked, until now.”

Hongjoong raises his eyebrow at the others, who spend more time in the barn than he does nowadays.

Wooyoung shrugs. “Why would I look up in the barn? Also he smells like a bird. I thought he was just one of the chickens.”

“I’m not a chicken,” Seonghwa points out, petulant. Wooyoung rolls his eyes.

“You may not be a chicken, but you’re still a bird,” Yeosang adds, thoughtful. “Wooyoung and Yunho smell very similar, and they’re both dogs.”

Hongjoong sips at his coffee, contemplating what to ask next. Yunho beats him to it.

“So what now? You’re here, you’ve been here for a while, but you’re exposed. Are you expecting Hongjoong to drop everything and help you just because he ran into you one time when you were both children?” Yunho’s voice is harsh, his shoulders pulled up in defense. He ignores Hongjoong’s disapproving frown and stares resolutely across the table at Seonghwa.

The other grows sheepish, his shoulders hunching in. “I honestly didn’t think I’d get this far. I wished that if Hongjoong found me, he would be nice enough to turn me away. I didn’t expect him to talk to me, or invite me into his home.”

Yunho turns his inquisitive gaze on the human in question. “Hongjoong, I know you’re a softie for us but you can’t keep taking in every stray you see. Seonghwa doesn’t expect you to let him stay, so please, for once in your selfless life, don’t feel obligated to take him in.”

Wooyoung and Yeosang avoid any eye contact, the latter’s lips glued to his coffee mug. Hongjoong breathes out slowly, nudging the third untouched mug towards Seonghwa.

“In my defense,” he starts, pausing to sip coffee and collect his thoughts. “San, Jongho, and Mingi are a special case. San and Mingi visit and only stayed overnight a couple times for Jongho, who also didn’t mean to stay. That’s the reason all three of them finally left yesterday, because they were doing just fine on their own. If it weren’t for Jongho’s injury, I don’t think any of them would’ve ever come here.”

“That’s not true—“

“And you three,” Hongjoong continues, ignoring Wooyoung’s outburst, “don’t have anywhere to go. Remember, we have an agreement where you can stay if you contribute to the work.”

He faces Seonghwa, who stares disbelieving into his mug. 

“If you’re alright with it, I wouldn’t mind providing shelter for however long it takes for you to decide what to do next.”

“Hongjoong—“

“Yunho, I don’t want to argue with you,” he cuts him off. “I’m not obligated to take in every hybrid I see, but you’re also not obligated to stay.”

He tries to ignore the hurt that washes over the other’s face.

“It’s fine,” Seonghwa murmurs, extracting his hands from where they cradled the coffee. “I’m just a crow. Like he said, you don’t have to take me in. I don’t want to be a burden, so I can stay up there in the barn.”

“No,” the human says firmly, wanting the conversation to be over. “You may be a hybrid that shares many traits with an animal, but you are also a hybrid that shares many traits with a human. And while a crow can handle being exposed outside in the winter, a human cannot. It’s a miracle you’ve made it this far.”

“But they say you have no room for me. I cannot stay with you.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to help you. We can figure something out.”

Yunho stands abruptly from the table, his chair screeching as he shoves it back. He storms past Hongjoong out the kitchen and disappears upstairs. Hongjoong winces as the door to his room slams closed.

He sighs, slouching into a vacant chair and resting his head in his hands.

“I’m sorry I’ve caused so much trouble,” Seonghwa whispers. Hongjoong glances at him, then at the other two left, who shift uncomfortably.

“It’s not really you. This seems like something I should’ve addressed a while ago and now it’s blowing up in my face.”

“Yunho’s just worried about you,” Wooyoung pipes up, fiddling with Yeosang’s free hand. “He’s been there since the beginning, so it’s harder for him to see you give up so much for others and get so little in return.”

“If it helps,” Yeosang adds, voice quiet, “Seonghwa proves that you’ve always been a good person. If he trusts you still even from some small interaction a long time ago, it says a lot about you.”

“It is nice seeing the parent’s farm you talked about… at least I’m assuming this is the same farm,” Seonghwa says.

“It is,” Hongjoong confirms, fingers tapping at away on the tabletop. He closes his eyes, sensing the next question before it leaves Seonghwa’s lips.

“Where are your parents?”

The tension in the room left by Yunho’s heated exit grows. Hongjoong purses his lips, breathing slowly through his nose. 

“Was that insensitive of me? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry—“

“They died,” Hongjoong answers quickly. “Car crash when I was twenty. I was supposed to finish my degree in university but instead, I went to community college and took over the farm.”

He doesn’t miss the sharp inhales or pitying looks, hands squeezing his coffee mug.

“Oh, Hongjoong…” Wooyoung murmurs. “Have you been alone all this time?”

The human nods jerkily, running a hand through his hair. “Until Yunho a few months ago, yeah.”

“Is… is that why you let us stay?” Yeosang asks.

He shrugs, not meeting the burning gazes of the hybrids. He jumps a little when warm fingers gently pry his away from his death grip on his drink. Wooyoung envelopes his hands with his own, ducking his head in an attempt to meet Hongjoong’s eye.

“I’m sorry that happened. And I’m sorry that Yunho is acting like this. I’m really thankful that you let us stay here. Don’t ever feel bad about being a good person, okay?”

Hongjoong gulps, giving Wooyoung a watery smile. The other returns it tenfold, squeezing their hands before letting go.

“Now it’s time to knock some sense into Yunho, hm?” Wooyoung gets up, dragging Yeosang with him. “You two have a lot of catching up to do anyway. We’ll be upstairs if you need us, okay?”

Hongjoong nods, watching the two of them rush upstairs, away from the weird situation. He sighs, turning all of his attention back to Seonghwa.

“Can I ask you a sensitive question in turn?” Hongjoong asks, rubbing behind his neck. Seonghwa inclines his head, tangled silver locks falling over his eyes.

“Why can you not fly anymore?”

The other grimaces, reaching up and combing through his hair with his fingers. “I’m too heavy. I can’t support myself in the air anymore like I could as a kid.”

Seonghwa trails his hands over his arms, preening under his elbows, pausing when some feathers fall into his palm. Fists close around them and he forces himself to stay still.

“I don’t think humans and birds were ever supposed to work genetically. It’s a wonder I’m still alive,” he elaborates.

“Nevertheless, I’m glad you are,” Hongjoong whispers, staring at the disheveled wings that are positioned awkwardly around the chair. “Even if you’re not ‘aesthetic’ or ‘useful’ to the circus anymore, I would still like you to stay with me.”

“Because you’re the only human that cares?”

Hongjoong blinks, appalled. “No, I’m sure there’s others. But that’s not what I meant. As cliche as it is, I think it was fate for us to meet again. That, and I don’t want our reunion to end so soon. Yunho may call me too selfless for taking in so many hybrids, but I’d like to be selfish for once and ask you to stay.”

Seonghwa cracks a painful smile, his onyx eyes sparkling.

“I would love to.”

Chapter Text

Just want you to stay

That's what I want to say

You know that

Want you to stay

I can see you even if I close my eyes

-"Stay"

The first thing Hongjoong does is check on Yunho. After Seonghwa agreed to stay, he told him to stay put at the kitchen table while he went upstairs. The other is complacent, letting the human leave and tracing the rim of his mug of coffee. Hongjoong trudges up the steps, allowing them to creak and announce his presence. He pauses at his closed door, reaching up and knocking on the white painted wood.

“Yunho? Can I please talk to you?” He requests, his knuckles resting on a dent in the wood. He hears slight movement and a muffled “ Come in. ”

He reaches for the doorknob, turning it and slowly entering. The first thing he sees is Wooyoung and Yeosang perched on the end of his large bed. Yunho slumps on the floor between them, his elbows holding his upper body up on the edge of the quilt. Wooyoung’s fingers comb comfortingly through his messy blond locks. Yunho looks up and his eyes are bloodshot.

“Oh, Yunho…” Hongjoong lurches forward, collapsing hard on his knees and opening his arms. Yunho immediately complies, twisting his body and fiercely hugging the human. Hongjoong returns it as best as he can, the breath squeezing out of him.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he mumbles into Yunho’s hair. The dog hybrid’s tail starts slowly wagging and he pulls back to face Hongjoong properly, sniffing loudly.

“I’m sorry I stomped off like that,” he returns, scrubbing at his eyes. “I didn’t mean to be so rude.”

Hongjoong rubs his shoulders, guiding them both onto the bed. “That’s alright. But we need to address this problem. You and I obviously have some opposing opinions on what should happen from now on.”

Wooyoung scoots back to make room for them, pulling his feet under him and grabbing one of Hongjoong’s pillows. Yeosang hesitantly snuggles next to Hongjoong, their thighs pressing together and his head resting on his shoulder. Hongjoong’s hands fall down Yunho’s arms and the other catches them with his own, holding them in between their laps.

“Talk to me? Why are you so upset about Seonghwa?” Hongjoong urges.

Yunho swallows. “It’s not really Seonghwa, it’s just in general. You’re too selfless, and I hate watching you bend over backwards for hybrids who you don’t know at all.”

He sniffs, bringing their conjoined hands up as he rubs his nose with his wrist. “Sure, it’s worked out so far, but I’m so worried that one day, it’ll backfire and you’ll be hurt and never recover.”

“Your concern is valid. To be honest, I never expected anyone to need my help, let alone seven people. While it’s risky, I feel worse if I were to ever turn you away,” Hongjoong admits. He jumps a little when Yeosang’s hair tickles his neck.

“Can you promise me that you’ll stop, or at least think about it in the future? How many more will it take before you realize you’re stretching yourself too thin?” Yunho asks.

“Actually, I have a feeling I’ll be done after Seonghwa.” He chuckles, rubbing his thumbs over Yunho’s and observing the size difference of their hands.

“Really?”

“The major reason for him is because he remembered me from our childhood, despite how brief our interaction was. I’d be such a jackass to throw that memory in his face and kick him to the curb.”

“Are you sure? No more?” Yunho is dubious.

“I promise, no more taking in strays from now on.”

Yunho breaks into a watery grin and throws himself at the human, wrapping him and a complimentary Yeosang into a hug. Wooyoung immediately complains about being left out, piling on top of them.

“I doubt any more hybrids will come out here anyway. They’ll probably be scared off by you all,” Hongjoong adds after the hug ends. Wooyoung hums, contemplative, from his new spot in Yunho’s lap.

“I’m surprised there’s so many of us in the first place,” Yeosang remarks, fiddling with his own tail. “It’s rare for hybrids to be in groups of two or three, let alone seven. Especially out here in the country, instead of a city.”

“You’re right, I’m practically running my own shelter at this rate,” Hongjoong jokes. “If anyone stopped by they’d definitely either try to adopt one of you, or think I’m doing something illegal.”

“Just make sure no one comes,” Wooyoung says.

The human scoffs. “Already done. I haven’t had a visitor in so long.”

He doesn’t anticipate the awkward silence that follows his pitiful statement. Wooyoung appears pained, reminded of Hongjoong’s loneliness prior to meeting them. 

“That’s why you have us,” Yunho tries, nudging Wooyoung off of him. “We all have each other. Hongjoong just happens to be the one who’s the… Wooyoung what’s it called in your shows? The sugar… parent? Sugar father?”

“Sugar daddy?” Yeosang provides, raising an eyebrow. Wooyoung snorts.

“Yes! He’s our sugar daddy!”

“Okay!” Hongjoong yelps, face red. “None of that! While I may be the sole provider for eight people, I object to ever being called a sugar daddy!” He pokes a snickering Yeosang in the ribs. Wooyoung howls while Yunho smiles innocently.

“Moving on, clearly we’re all fine now,” the human continues, rubbing a hand down his heated face. “I’m going to go downstairs and start a proper breakfast. Who’s with me?”

He sighs as they yell and clamber off the bed, grinning despite himself.

Hongjoong expects things to move rather smoothly from there on out. He and the others return downstairs and have an awkwardly silent breakfast together. He may or may not have one too many cups of coffee. Yunho leaves to tend the chickens while Wooyoung and Yeosang start to gather laundry. Hongjoong invites Seonghwa to the living room, where they sit at opposite sides of the couch, Seonghwa gawking at the indoor decor.

But of course, nothing can go smoothly in his life anymore.

Before Hongjoong could strike up some sort of conversation with Seonghwa, the door to the mud room slams open. The crow hybrid’s head snaps in the direction, his feathers puffing up. Hongjoong can’t parse any specific dialogue, but he hears a commotion that involves more people than just Wooyoung and Yeosang. 

None of their voices are alarmed, just loud. There’s a noise like Wooyoung dropping one of the baskets of clothes. He warns the new people, but they blow past him, their figures appearing in the doorway between the mud room and kitchen.

“Hey, Hongjoong! We’re back—“ San’s amicable voice is cut off as he catches sight of them, more specifically, Seonghwa. His open demeanor immediately closes off, his eyes narrowing and ears flattening. Jongho, who wasn’t paying attention, bumps into him and grunts. He also freezes once he realizes, as does Mingi, who peeks out from over his shoulder.

“What’s going on? Who’s that?” Mingi asks, skirting around Jongho so that he’s in front of him. San sticks out a protective arm before he can get any further.

“Welcome back,” Hongjoong says, glancing nervously between all the apprehensive hybrids. “Guys… this is Seonghwa. He’s another hybrid who came by today. Seonghwa, this is San, Mingi, and Jongho.”

The other ducks his head in greeting, subconsciously smoothing down his feathers. “Nice to meet you.”

San eyes him, tail swishing. Wooyoung wiggles past Jongho and leans around Mingi, whispering something into San’s ear. The other pauses as he listens, glancing between the two on the couch. When Wooyoung finishes, he nods curtly and relaxes, letting Jongho and Mingi spill into the kitchen. Hongjoong lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Though he doesn’t know exactly what Wooyoung said, he’s glad the other explained enough for San and the others to at least wait until later to ask questions.

“How’s your leg?” Hongjoong asks, desperate to prevent further awkwardness. Jongho looks up, shrugging like a disinterested teenager.

“It’s fine.”

“What happened to it?” Seonghwa asks. An innocent question, but still the wrong one judging by the way the younger stiffens.

“None of your business,” he mumbles, voice cold. Seonghwa bites his lip, his face crumpling.

“How was your time away?” Hongjoong keeps their talk from derailing any further.

“Awful!” Mingi complains, plopping into a kitchen chair. “We got used to a bed and nice food, and now I don’t want to ever go back out there again!”

The human chuckles, grateful for Mingi’s overdramatics. San and Jongho join him at the kitchen table.

“It’s so cold now,” San elaborates. “It’s hard to do anything when the ground is frozen. Oh, by the way, we hung your coats in the other room. Yeosang said he would wash them. They’re pretty dirty, sorry.”

Hongjoong adjusts his position, crossing his elbows and leaning over the back of the couch. “That’s alright. I’m glad you all are back so soon, even if your little trip wasn’t all that great. You’re always welcome to stay here as long as you need.”

He almost stops himself, thinking of his promise with Yunho. Well, it doesn’t count if it’s hybrids he already knows, right? He glances at Seonghwa, who studies the three in contemplative silence. The only problem is space… 

“Seonghwa will be staying with us as well,” he announces, though the others don’t seem that surprised. “He can stay on the couch. Jongho, would you be okay sharing a bed with San and Mingi upstairs? Wooyoung and Yeosang can stay with me and Yunho again.”

The bear hybrid pouts, picking at his dirty fingernails. “I guess I can. We basically sleep together outside so it’s not much different in the same room.”

Hongjoong sighs, relieved. “Great, now that’s all settled, uh, you all can treat yourselves to early lunch, and I’ll show Seonghwa around, okay?”

They all nod assent, already losing interest in them at the prospect of food. Hongjoong sighs in relief, not looking forward to the next day or so of all the hybrids dancing around each other.

The next few days are just as troublesome as Hongjoong fears. All of them are tense around Seonghwa, despite his best efforts at blending in. Meals together are strained as the crow hybrid attempts to join conversations and falls flat. Eventually, he stays quiet and opts to listen instead. Sometimes he talks to Hongjoong only, who indulges him as best he can.

The couch–which was just tidied up and returned back to its intended state as a couch–is reverted back to a makeshift bed for Seonghwa. The basket of blankets next to the furniture is now empty while two blankets and a quilt lay across the cushions. Along with the decorative pillows and the one extra pillow with no pillowcase, the mini nest is completed.

The upstairs bedrooms are cramped at night, but Hongjoong knows some of them secretly love it (including him, if he’s honest with himself). It’s cozy having the extra body heat and waking up with Wooyoung’s face smushed in his shoulder. Mingi chatters about how much fun it is to share the guest bed with San and Jongho. San clarifies that it’s more the two of them sharing and Jongho sleeps on the furthest edge possible.

One morning after the third day, he wakes to Yunho on the edge of the bed, trapping Hongjoong’s legs under his large body. The heap of blankets he claims as his bed is dragged up with him, the combined heat making the human’s feet sweat. Hongjoong shifts, which causes the others to stir. Wooyoung has drifted to the middle of the giant bed, as he is wont to do, but this time he’s dragged an unconscious Yeosang on top of him, using him as a body pillow. Their bodies press against his side, where his left arm has fallen asleep.

Despite his groggy state of mind, he internally groans as he realizes: there is no way for Hongjoong to leave the bed without waking all of them.

He sighs slowly, opting to slowly adjust his left hand so blood can return to it and silently withstands the pins and needles that follow. Then he lifts his arm, stretching it as best he can. He doesn’t account for the dip in the bed created by all their weight, and holds his breath as Wooyoung shifts into the empty space, under his arm. Yeosang slides off of him slightly, burrowing his head under Wooyoung’s, which nestles just under his armpit. 

Hongjoong blushes, unsure what to do with his arm, and decides to curve it around their heads. His hand rests on Yeosang’s mussed white hair, fingers absently petting the soft spot behind his ears. 

He lays like that for however long, staring at the peeling wallpaper in the corner of his room. He’s grateful it’s a weekend, meaning no morning alarm to disturb the peace. His attention meanders from the crack of dawn peeking through the curtains to the crown of Yeosang’s head, to Yunho, who stares back at him.

Wait—

He resists the urge to jump, eyes widening as Yunho grins sideways at him. The other lifts his head slowly, golden hair puffed around his floppy ears. Before Hongjoong can say or gesture anything, the other blindly reaches behind him and pulls up the extra blankets that have started to spill off the bed. He shakes the entire mattress with his movements as he clambers up Hongjoong’s legs. Then he promptly wedges himself between the human’s open side and the edge of the bed.

“Yunho, what…?” Hongjoong mutters, voice still thick with drowsiness. The other shushes him, gently grabbing his free wrist and snuggling in, pushing Hongjoong’s hand into his hair.

“Please pet me too,” Yunho whines, voice soft. “It’s cold on the floor and I’m tired of not getting to share the bed with you like they do.”

Hongjoong blushes, moving on from Yunho’s statement. “I’m surprised you didn’t wake them.”

“Oh they’re awake, they just don’t want to get up,” the other assures. “Yeosang’s been purring this entire time.”

The two of them pause and sure enough, if Hongjoong strains his ears, he can hear faint purring.

“Do you want us to scoot over for you?”

Yunho shakes his head. “No, I like it right here. Now, will you please pet me?”

Hongjoong laughs, more just an elated breath, and rubs his fingers behind Yunho’s ears. The other immediately leans into the touch with an endearing smile. A soft thumping sounds from his tail hitting the sheets.

Now Hongjoong is no doctor, but he feels like his heart is about to burst. The human smiles as he slowly combs his fingers through their hair, content.

The moment is ruined, an hour or so later, when the doorknob turns and San’s head sticks in. Upon seeing the scene before him, he swings the door wide open, the resulting bang of it against the wall making them all jump.

“Come on, no fair!” he whines, crossing his arms over fresh wrinkled pajamas. “Hongjoong you never sleep in or let them cuddle you!”

“What?” Mingi's disbelieving voice is muffled from the hallway. A moment later his head pops up behind San’s accusing stare. Hongjoong smiles sheepishly, his hands still frozen on Yeosang and Yunho’s hair. Mingi’s astute gaze catches on his fingers and he points at the incriminating evidence. 

“Are you kidding me? They even get head pets? I want head pets!”

“Can you guys shut up,” Wooyoung groans, burrowing even further into Hongjoong’s side.

The human laughs, already slowly sitting up despite their protests. Yunho rolls off the bed while Wooyoung clings to his waist. Yeosang slips off, too sleepy to hide his pout as he rubs at his eyes. 

“If you want head pets, then you only need to ask,” Hongjoong informs, shivering a little as he stretches. He reluctantly pries Wooyoung off of him as he gets out of bed. He pulls on a hoodie and fuzzy socks before leaving the room, giving Mingi his complimentary head pets. The other leans down a bit for ease of access, making Hongjoong laugh even more. He pauses in the hallway, raising an eyebrow at San who looks at him expectantly.

“I’m assuming you want some, too?”

San grins, ducking his head in expectation. Hongjoong huffs fondly, ruffling his black locks and smoothing them behind one fuzzy ear.

Jongho lurks by the top of the stairs, silently watching their interactions. Hongjoong pats his head too as he passes. The younger boy freezes, blinking and confused while Hongjoong pays no mind, letting Mingi tease him as he descends the stairs.

Seonghwa’s obsidian eyes track him as he enters the main floor, wandering into the living room. The human greets him warmly and he returns it with a polite nod. As Hongjoong rounds the couch, he notices that the other looks a little more puffed than usual, his frame blanketed and drawn in himself. 

“Are you cold?” Hongjoong asks, genial. Seonghwa shakes his head, but his hands tightly wrapped around his knees tell him otherwise. Hongjoong sighs, turning and squinting at the thermostat on the wall by the stairs. He grimaces at the low temperature displayed, immediately going to correct it.

“I’m sorry, Yunho also mentioned he was cold. I had hoped that I could cut back on heating a bit, but it seems I overestimated how much we could handle,” he murmurs, fiddling with the dial.

Yeosang touches his shoulder, catching his attention. “You don’t have to turn it up if you’re trying to keep it down.”

“Why do you want it cold?” San wonders, leaning on the wooden railing of the stairs.

Hongjoong bites his lip, debating whether to explain to them or not. “It’s… not cheap to keep this house warm,” he admits eventually. “When I’m by myself, I keep it really low and just wear a lot of layers. I turned it up a little for you guys, but I didn’t realize that it's still not suitable.”

He reaches to turn the dial up more, but Yeosang stops him.

“It’s alright, don’t turn it up. We can use the blankets and more clothes,” he says, gently pulling his wrist away.

“We can use the fireplace more! You haven’t touched it since Halloween,” Wooyoung adds. Hongjoong doesn’t have the heart to tell him about the price of firewood, so he concedes.

“Very well.” He glances around at all the hybrids who watch him expectantly. “I suppose we can have a cozy fire today, and I’ll pull out all my sweaters to share.”

He smiles at the resulting mini cheer, letting Wooyoung pull him away.

“What are you doing?”

The human jumps a little as San leans over his shoulder, peering at the open laptop screen.

“Uh, just checking on some stuff with the farm and the bank,” Hongjoong says truthfully, returning to skimming the numbers. It’s well into the afternoon, the sun setting and the house dark. The fireplace keeps them warm and cozy in the living room, where they lounge freely. Soft jazz floats from the portable speaker on the coffee table. The majority of them spread out on the blankets on the floor by the fire. Hongjoong sits on the couch with Seonghwa and San, his laptop balancing on a throw pillow over his legs. 

Seonghwa, interest piqued, also leans in and scans the jumble of boxes and tabs. “Those are numbers, right?” He murmurs, pointing with one sharp nail. “There’s a lot of them.” 

“Yes, I’m just looking at my history,” he explains, praying that Seonghwa doesn’t pry any further. For a moment, Hongjoong’s thankful that Yeosang, the only one able to read, is across the room. 

San tilts his head, brow furrowing. “Is this related to the heat issue from this morning?”

Damn his intuition , Hongjoong thinks. “No,” he lies, but San levels him with a look. “Okay, fine, yes. But I’m just checking to make sure everything’s still manageable,” he placates, reaching up and patting the top of the fox hybrid’s head.

“It’s fine, right?” San mumbles, leaning into his touch. Hongjoong hums in confirmation, letting his hand rest at the base of San’s neck while he returns to the screen. He closes the tabs pertaining to advice on saving money. Then he ignores what’s left in his bank account as he logs out and shuts the laptop, setting it on the table.

He thinks he’s in the clear until Mingi complains about being hungry and Wooyoung suggests getting take out again.

“There are leftovers in the fridge from last night,” Hongjoong says. 

“But pizza sounds so good right now,” Wooyoung activates his puppy eyes, rolling over on the fleece blanket. Hongjoong purses his lips.

“The ham we had a few days ago is still there. So is the mac and cheese I made for lunch yesterday. I also have stuff for a salad for Mingi and anyone else.”

Mingi scrunches his nose. “I may be vegetarian but I don’t like vegetables that much.”

Hongjoong sighs. “I’m giving you guys options. We can’t get take out tonight; it’s a waste of food.”

“Can I have the chicken tenders that are in the freezer?” Yeosang asks, popping up from behind Wooyoung.

The human massages the skin between his eyebrows. “Sure, I guess.”

A hand splays on Hongjoong’s thigh and he peels up at Seonghwa.

“I’ll have the ham, if you’re alright with that,” he announces, removing his hand. Hongjoong laughs a little, waving his arms.

“By all means, please do.”

San remains quiet as Seonghwa gets up. Hongjoong raises an eyebrow when he catches the other staring at him intensely.

He clears his throat. “Can I help you?”

But San only shakes his head, gaze flitting elsewhere as he slowly rests his head on Hongjoong’s shoulder. The human stays as still as possible, surprised by the sudden action. Nevertheless, he accepts it.

They eat reheated dinner in the living room, huddled around the fire as Hongjoong adds another log. Yeosang, Yunho, and Jongho start a made up game with a deck of cards. San remains snuggled on Hongjoong’s shoulder. Mingi lounges on his other side on the couch. Wooyoung chats with Seonghwa by the fire for once, the other surprised but content to let him talk his ear off. His arms are lifted, allowing his large wings to spread out on the ground.

Hongjoong messes with his phone, scrolling through his music as the last song of his jazz playlist finishes on the speaker. He settles on his chill playlist, mostly piano and lofi for when he used to study. Now he uses it for when he’s sleepy and doesn’t want to think. He turns his phone off and folds his hands over the pillow on his lap.

“Hongjoong?” Mingi’s husky voice rumbles both of their chests. The human hums, leaning his head back a little to meet the taller’s eyes.

“Thank you for everything,” Mingi says. Hongjoong laughs a little at the unexpected sincerity in his expression.

“Sure? It’s the least I can do—“

“No, it’s more than you ever needed to do,” Mingi cuts in, taking one of Hongjoong’s folded hands and interlacing their fingers. Mingi’s hands are like Yunho’s; they engulf Hongjoong’s own. “You let us eat your food and take your beds. You’ve been so nice and generous to us.”

“Uh, what brought on this sudden appreciation?” Hongjoong coughs, hoping his face isn’t as red as it feels. Mingi blinks at him, and for a second, he wonders if he’s supposed to understand something more. But then the moment passes, and Mingi leans on his other shoulder, his soft ears tickling Hongjoong’s cheek.

Unable to move with two hybrids nestled on either side of him, he sighs and closes his eyes. Wooyoung’s voice drifts into his ears and he listens to whatever story he is currently telling Seonghwa. The occasional shout of triumph or defeat sounds from the three in the corner with their game. Hongjoong smiles to himself, enjoying the proximity of all his friends.

He must have drifted off because the next thing he knows, the warmth of other bodies is gone and he’s being slightly jostled. He struggles to open his sticky eyes and gropes blindly.

“Mm, wha…?”

“Shh,” San’s voice whispers. Placating hands grab his own and set him comfortably back on the couch. “We’ll be right back.”

The music is still playing, but it’s automatically generated and nothing he recognizes. A soft glow from the fire emits even behind closed eyelids, though much dimmer than before.

“Okay…” he murmurs, too far gone to question much. He gives in to sleep quickly, trusting San and Mingi to return. 

But they never do.

It’s early morning when he wakes again, the room cold and dark with the fire completely faded out. He squints across the room into the kitchen, spying the time on the clock over the stove. His breath speeds up when he realizes he’s the only one on the couch. He searches the sleeping bodies on the floor, counting only four.

The pillow still in his lap tumbles to the floor as he sits up. Several heads jerk up at the noise. The human winces, but worry clogs his brain and he stands, swiveling in the dark.

“What’s wrong?” Seonghwa asks, yawning and rubbing his eyes. 

“Where’s San? And Mingi and Jongho?” The human hisses. His tone has the others jumping to their feet, looking confused amongst themselves.

“Weren’t they just here?” Yunho mutters, the imprint of a playing card on his cheek. “I swear, Jongho was right next to me.”

“I felt him get up sometime in the night but I figured he was just going to the bathroom,” Yeosang informs.

Hongjoong runs harried fingers through teal hair. “San told me he’d be right back…”

He rounds the couch, bustling into the kitchen. Turning on the overhead light earns some groans. Blinking as everything emerges in clearer detail, he notices the lack of coats on the hanger by the front door. He hurries into the mud room, noting his big pairs of work boots are missing as well. Returning to the kitchen, he finds a stray pen and a yellow sticky note with a frowning face and a shaky heart drawn onto it.

Hongjoong sinks into the kitchen chair, picking up the note with a shaky hand. He heaves a sigh of relief, thunking his forehead on the wood.

“Are they gone?” Wooyoung asks, running a tentative hand across Hongjoong’s shoulder blades.

Hongjoong exhales again, weakly waving the yellow paper in between his fingers.

“I think they went back home.”

“Why would they leave like that?” Wooyoung asks for the tenth time.

“I don’t know,” Hongjoong groans, pinching his nose. They sit together at the kitchen table for a break after a morning of unsuccessful work. Well, unsuccessful for Hongjoong. Wooyoung finished the laundry all too quick, which resulted in all his energy now spent questioning motives. Meanwhile, Hongjoong has labored over his finances, checking and double checking. The winter was always tricky for him; seasonal crops weren’t reliable and he had to strategize his spending. With the added stress of wondering where his woodland friends went, he couldn’t concentrate.

Yeosang poked his head out from upstairs a few minutes ago, most likely done with cleaning the guest bedroom. Thankfully, he took one glance at Wooyoung’s pestering and remained upstairs until further notice. Yunho also remained scarce outside. He could see him through the window, all bundled up as he lumbered across the yard. Seonghwa was tasked with following him around the barn, but he comes in through the front door a moment later.

Wooyoung’s rambling goes in one ear and out the other as he watches Seonghwa scuttle into the kitchen holding something. The crow hybrid maneuvers his wings around furniture before he plops down next to Hongjoong, setting whatever’s in his hands on the table. A multitude of coins clink and roll around, distracting Wooyoung for a second.

“It’s so last minute, and they can’t read, let alone write… What is that? Wait. How did you find money out here?”

“Is it valuable?” Seonghwa beams, preening at his treasure find. Hongjoong laughs shortly, counting out the cents with one hand.

“It sure is,” he confirms. “Why did you find some coins?”

“They’re for you.”

He blinks, surprised. “Me?”

Seonghwa nods. “In the circus, that much can cover a box of popcorn. I figured I could contribute to some of the meals…” his voice peters out as he loses confidence. “Right? You need money, I thought…”

Wooyoung’s eyes slowly widen in understanding.

“Wait, I heard him talk about numbers last night.” He points a finger between them, his ears perking. “You were worrying about money! Both with the heating, and the food! And San noticed that, so he left!”

Just as fast as his face lifts, it falls. “Which means they won’t come back.”

“Hold on,” Hongjoong starts, waving a hand. “We don’t know that.”

“Nooo,” Wooyoung moans, fingers tangling in his hair. Hongjoong exchanges a panicked glance with Seonghwa. He quickly closes his laptop, reaching over the table to grab one of his wrists.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” the human tries, letting Wooyoung squeeze the life out of his hands. “They did take my coats and boots. Perhaps they will come back.”

“But that means they thought about it. They didn’t rush and leave with nothing,” Wooyoung argues.

“Which means they will most likely come back.”

“Or they plan to stay away forever!”

“Wooyoung. Do you believe that they would steal my clothes and never come back?” Hongjoong reasons. The boy deflates.

“No…”

“Then trust them, and me. They will come back .”

He tries his best to believe his own words.

A week passes.

Snow covers the ground completely. A few stray storms rolled in and blanketed the countryside with a fine layer of white. The days seem shorter than ever, the sun sinking into the frozen ground well before the evening. 

The worry that gnaws at Hongjoong’s insides affects the others as well. He can see it in the stray glances they share with each other. He’s also noticed them overcompensating for what seems to be their mere presence. When he makes dinner, they offer to help as best they can. When he asks them to do anything, they oblige without question. When he hunches over his laptop, they coax him to the couch, Seonghwa pushing all his blankets to the side. At night, they snuggle in as close as possible, enveloping him in a warmth that leaves him sweaty in the morning.

He knows they feel guilty. He feels guilty making them feel guilty. It’s an endless cycle of gratuity where all of them try to do the most because they feel they don’t deserve it. He’s also starting to get paranoid. Despite their closeness, there’s a rift forming between him and the hybrids, something unspoken but not unnoticed. Hongjoong’s seen the looks they exchange, heard the hushed whispers from another room. He’s been busy with work, leaving the house to take care of things. When he comes home, he’s on his laptop, planning more work. Yeosang lingers in the corners of rooms. Yunho stays outside in the barn. Wooyoung barely talks to him. Even if they sleep in the same bed, they’ve distanced themselves from friends to partners who share and take care of the same space.

Except for Seonghwa. Sweet, lovely Seonghwa who’s only connection still is Hongjoong. He speaks with the others, has his moments with them, but he always hangs around the human the most. The crow hybrid is like the bridge between Hongjoong and the others. He knows something Hongjoong doesn’t. His eyes flicker, words on the tip of his tongue, but he stays quiet. 

At the end of the week, Hongjoong catches the hybrids arguing over something in the mudroom. He was upstairs, changing into pajamas after a hot shower. He pauses as he hears their voices, urgent and angry in a way that alarms him. They’re quiet, but their bickering doesn't stop until the creak of the stairs gives the human away. He mentally curses the old house, trying to come down as nonchalantly as possible.

“What’s going on?” he asks innocently. Yunho forces a smile and tail wag, covering the doorway with his lanky frame. Behind him, Seonghwa crosses his arms, black feathers brushing the tile floor. Yeosang purses his lips next to him. Hongjoong strains his neck, spying Wooyoung also in there, just as upset as the rest. “Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine,” Wooyoung clips. “Just had a disagreement.” He throws a look at Seonghwa, who exhales slowly.

“I suppose it is not my place to say anything,” he murmurs stiffly. The answer is lost on Hongjoong, who stares, confused, as the tension bleeds out of the other three.

Yunho steps into the kitchen, diverting his attention. “Can we have dinner? I’ll wash the dishes.”

The human, still puzzled, decides to let the situation go. It’s not his responsibility to intervene, it seems. Dinner is an awkward affair, with Hongjoong attempting a conversation and only Yunho reciprocating. The following evening is also spent in relative silence, until it’s time for bed.

Hongjoong bids goodnight to Seonghwa downstairs. The other refused to move to the guest bedroom when offered, simply explaining he felt more comfortable on the couch. It’s true, according to the assembly of pillows and wrinkled blankets that were akin to a nest. 

When he finishes his routine upstairs, the three boys are already in bed, wiggling under the layers of covers. Wooyoung rolls onto his stomach while Yeosang lays on his side at the furthest edge. Yunho, a relatively new addition to the bed, holds the covers up for Wooyoung as he wiggles around, his tail thumping against the mattress. Hongjoong watches them fondly, wondering how to breach the glass wall between them. Despite it being his bed, he almost feels like he shouldn’t join them. But Yeosang meets his gaze, raising his eyebrows, and he melts, shuffling forward.

Yunho shifts over, moving into the middle of the bed and leaving space for him. He slides in, folding over the sheets. Wooyoung complains about not being able to cuddle Hongjoong, until he discovers that Yunho is just as cuddleable. He latches onto him and accidentally pokes some ticklish areas, making the other jump. Hongjoong giggles, berating himself for even thinking there was some sort of tension between them. Once all is settled, he reaches for the light, but Yunho’s voice stops him.

“Thank you for everything, Hongjoong.” He smiles as he throws an arm over Hongjoong’s torso. It’s eerie, the same words that they’ve said a thousand times before, yet this time something nags at the back of his mind. He brushes it aside, smiling and turning the light off. 

“You’re welcome,” he whispers, letting Wooyoung reach over Yunho and interlock their fingers. He falls asleep quickly, the constant worry that fills his body fading away with the comfort of his friends.

Heavy sleep is impeded by prickling discomfort. It brings him up to consciousness gradually, until he is coherent enough to pinpoint what makes him wake up.

The bed is cold.

Hongjoong frowns, curling over on his side and shivering. He pulls at the covers, and is met with no opposition, the sheets flying easily over his face. He feels strangely off kilter, light in a way that is empty and uncomfortable. Dread fills his chest and Hongjoong shoots upright, his eyes opening and frantically searching for someone who is not there.

He’s alone.

The breath catches in his throat and he sweeps his hands over the comforter as if someone could be hiding underneath them. He lurches over the bed, searching for any sign of life, of occupancy, but there is none. The spot at the end of his bed where Yunho’s pile of blankets are usually is clean. 

As if there was nothing there in the first place.

Hongjoong’s breathing speeds up as he flies out of bed, bumping into the door before he can get it fully open. His bare feet stomp through the hall as he frantically opens the guest bedroom door. Inside, the room is as pristine as it was the week before. The bed is made, the dresser is clear, and the curtains are open.

He doesn’t bother closing the door again as he clumsily stomps down the stairs. The railing creaks as he leans on it heavily, eyes raking over the main floor. The couch is still messy, but there’s no one on it. He’s about to hyperventilate until he catches someone in particular watching him from the kitchen table.

“Seonghwa,” he wheezes, almost collapsing as he lets go of the railing and bumbles into the kitchen. In the dim morning light, it’s hard to parse what expression lies on his face. “W-what’s going on? Where are the others?”

The other purses his lips and wrings his hands. Heavy silence stretches between them as he wobbles on his feet. The dread turns into despair and Hongjoong’s knees fail him. He braces himself on the kitchen table, his desperate stare never leaving the crow hybrid.

“Seonghwa,” he pleads. “Don’t tell me. Please don’t tell me…”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, silver hair dropping into his face as he looks at his hands. Hongjoong shakes his head fervently.

“What? No… they couldn’t…” 

“I tried to stop them,” Seonghwa explains. “But they told me it was the only option. I’m sorry, Hongjoong.”

He lifts his head slightly.

“They left.”

Hongjoong stares blankly out the window. He sits on the couch, moved by Seonghwa after his initial collapse. The other pushes a hot cup of coffee into his hands, expression pained as he sits next to him.

“Why did they leave?” He demands weakly, grip tightening on the mug. Seonghwa sighs, biting his fingernails before answering.

“They told me not to tell you, last night.”

“Please?” he implores, finally ripping his stare from the window to the boy. He deflates, dropping his gaze and fiddling with the down feathers on his wrist. 

“They went to find San and the others,” he admits, drawing a sharp gasp out of Hongjoong.

“What?! Do they even know where they are?! Did they get coats? Did they–ah–” he’s cut off by some of the scalding coffee spilling out from his harried movements.

“Be careful,” Seonghwa scolds, gently pulling the mug out of his hands and setting it on the table. Hongjoong wipes his hands on his pajamas, thoughts running a mile a minute.

“Don’t worry about that, I made sure they at least were prepared for the weather. I’d like to think they appreciated that, at least,” Seonghwa explains.

“But the snow, how will they find them?”

He hesitates. “That… is what I was worried about as well. If it was a day after San, Mingi, and Jongho left, perhaps they could’ve tracked them down by scent. But with all this snow, I doubt they can go off of smell alone.”

Hongjoong buries his head in his hands, voice muffled. “So they’re lost, out there, in the cold, trying to find the others who might not want to come back at all? Who’s idea was this? Wooyoung’s?”

“Actually, it was Yunho’s idea. They’ve been conspiring for days.”

He shoots upright again. “ Yunho ?! But he objected to the others in the first place…”

Seonghwa shakes his head. “He may have said that, but he does care for them as much as you do. From what I gather, he believes the best way for all of us to be happy is to be together despite hardships, financial or otherwise.”

Hongjoong exhales slowly, dropping his shoulders. “So I guess the best I can do is wait?”

The other smiles apologetically. “So it seems.”

He whines, slouching again. “This sucks.”

Seonghwa watches him reach for his coffee and down it all in one go. He coughs a little as he finishes, rubbing at his chest. Then he sets it back on the table and flops back.

“Can I?” Seonghwa gestures wordlessly, beckoning Hongjoong to lay his head in his lap. The human takes a second to oblige, unable to resist much in his sulking state. Seonghwa’s lap is warm, making Hongjoong curl into the couch. Tentative fingers card through his faded hair, massaging the stress out of his temples.

“When I was little, the other hybrids in the circus would do this for me when I was upset,” Seonghwa explains, his voice soft. Hongjoong glances up as best he can, seeing a faraway look in the other’s sparkling eyes. 

“I’m sorry this is the best I can do to help you,” he murmurs.

Hongjoong makes a noise of protest, resisting the urge to sit up. “No, this is perfect. I’m sorry I’m being so moody.”

“I was the same when those older hybrids left. There was no one to console me. I’m glad that I can at least be the one to console you, now.”

Long fingers idly brush the human’s bangs out of his face. He blinks and comes back from his memory, studying his face.

“They’ll be back, Hongjoong,” he reassures, repeating the same words he said to Wooyoung a week ago.

Hongjoong hums, tracing the black feathers that pool on the cushion. “I really hope so.”

Another day comes and goes. Never before has Hongjoong been so conscious of the passage of time. He spends every passing hour biting his nails as he reluctantly works. Though it is the weekend, he’s antsy with nothing to do but wait, so he decides to get ahead on some of his plans. With no one to tend to the farm, he returns to the duties he’s neglected for months. The chickens peck at him when he feeds them, as if asking where Yunho is. His clothes get folded and returned to their drawers. Dinner is for two, instead of for eight.

He comes outside in the evening, desperate for a change of setting. All of his coats are gone and he only has one pair of fashionable winter boots. Still, he trudges through the snow with fancy faux leather ankle boots and his heaviest sweater. The motion sensor triggers on the barn and he blinks at the brightness, his breath fogging in front of him. Faint footprints are visible in the harsh light, leading from the house and around the barn. He follows them around the outside of the chicken coop, bracing himself against the red wood when he trips. His fingers are numb and his nose is dripping, but he pushes through. He makes it to the edge of the property line, tracing the divots in the snow as they venture into the fields and beyond. There he stops, breathing in the sharp winter air.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there, but his entire body is shaking when Seonghwa shouts from behind.

“Hongjoong! There you are!” His teeth clack as he runs up to him. “What are you doing out here? You’ll catch a cold!”

“I was following their footprints,” he mumbles, bringing his arms around himself. The crow hybrid’s breath catches as he notices his state of dress.

“What– Joong you can’t stay out here like this!” He opens his arms, enveloping the human with dark, warm wings. “Please come back inside.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, turning and mushing his face into Seonghwa’s shoulder. They shuffle back to the house, never letting go of each other even as they fumble up the stairs and into his room.

“I hate feeling like this,” Hongjoong admits, falling onto the bed and bringing Seonghwa with him. They sit side by side as the human gathers his thoughts. “I don’t like waiting. I wish I could go out there and bring all of them back.”

“I know,” Seonghwa placates, stretching his arms. His wings fall over the bedspread, nearly covering the quilt. “What do you want me to do, Hongjoong?”

He sighs. “Nothing. You being here is enough. Just… don’t leave me, too?”

The other shakes his head vigorously. “I would never.” He reaches and delicately holds Hongjoong’s hands. “But, remember, they didn’t leave, not really. They will come back. ”

The words have been repeating in his brain for days. He gulps, nodding slowly. Absently, he checks the clock on his nightstand, eyebrows raising at the time. Seonghwa follows his gaze.

“It’s getting late. I should go back downstairs.” He starts to stand, but is hindered by their connected hands. Hongjoong smiles meekly.

“Could you… stay with me tonight?” He asks, already bracing himself for rejection. Seonghwa balks, staring at him with glittery eyes.

“I– um. Yes, I can. Are you sure?” At his emphatic nod, Seonghwa sinks back down. He remains there while Hongjoong scurries through his routine. When he shimmies under the blankets, the other stays on top, sitting towards the bottom corner of the bed.

“I’ll stay right here, I promise.”

“Thank you,” Hongjoong whispers, turning off the light.

Even in the dark, he can see Seonghwa’s smile. “Of course.”

Seonghwa is still there when he wakes up the next morning. Though it was a natural awakening, something is off. Hongjoong squints at the popcorn ceiling, unable to shake the feeling from his bones. Eventually he gets up, checking the clock and confirming the early morning time. Seonghwa stirs from his corner of the bed, frowning at him.

“Did you hear something?” He asks. Hongjoong shakes his head, but pauses for something in the silence. Seonghwa’s brow furrows, cocking his head to the side.

“I swear I heard something outside…”

Hongjoong’s heart jumps and he steps to the window, yanking open the curtains. Pale lavender light filters into the room. Clouds cover a blank sky and the sun has yet to rise completely. He squints into his yard and the fields, spying nothing.

“Are you sure?” He asks, face falling.

“Perhaps it was my imagination,” Seonghwa says, sheepish. 

Hopes squandered, Hongjoong decides to just go downstairs, brushing his fingers through matted teal hair. Breakfast is quiet, Seonghwa opening all the curtains while Hongjoong brews coffee. Again, the other pauses, tilting his head as he opens the small striped curtains over the kitchen sink.

“What is it?” Hongjoong asks uneasily. He peers over his shoulder, seeing nothing but the usual scenery.

“There’s something out there,” Seonghwa mutters. The human bites back a comment, letting him listen. Suddenly, the crow hybrid’s eyes widen. “No, there’s people out there! Multiple, and they’re quite a distance away.”

“People?” Hongjoong barks, forgetting his coffee on the counter. “Do you think?”

They exchange a hopeful glance.

“It could very well be,” Seonghwa breathes.

Hongjoong wastes no time, flying across the kitchen to the front door and tugging on his boots. With no coat, he grabs a rain jacket and unlocks the door, flinging it open and pushing at the screen door. Seonghwa follows close behind, his protests to slow down ignored.

“Where is it coming from?” he shouts, already down the porch steps by the time Seonghwa closes the door behind him.

“That way!” He directs, pointing behind the barn where the footprints led. More hope blooms in Hongjoong’s chest and he races across the driveway, snow and gravel crunching underneath his feet. He yelps as a cold wind bites at his nose and exposed skin. Rounding the barn, he skids to a stop at the property line, peering out across the barren landscape.

Seonghwa huffs as he catches up, hands on his knees. 

“I don’t see anything,” Hongjoong says, breath fogging in short bursts.

“I think they’re still far away. But it’s definitely from this direction. Patience, Joong.” The boy comes next to him, bringing the human in under his wing. “Stay with me. We can preserve body heat like this.”

Hongjoong hums, eyes raking over the land. He shivers even next to Seonghwa. A minute passes before he sees anything.

“There!” He points at a smudge on the pink horizon. “Is that them?”

“I believe so.”

He bounces in place as the smudge sharpens into six figures. They’re huddled together, traversing the snow agonizingly slow. Suddenly, one breaks away and starts running faster, prompting the others to quickly follow.

“They noticed us,” Seonghwa observes. Hongjoong can’t take it any longer. He breaks, darting away from the other and booking it into the fields. He trips a few times, wholly unused and unprepared for the rough terrain, but perseveres. Moment by moment, they become clearer in his vision and his heart leaps into his throat.

Yunho’s face appears first, grinning widely even from so far away. He looks worse for wear, bundled in a torn coat with dirt streaked across his face. Nevertheless, he holds Hongjoong as he crashes into him, squeezing the life out of each other. San is close behind, tumbling into them just as Hongjoong’s knees give out. Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Mingi pile in seconds later. Jongho tentatively joins in, as does Seonghwa last.

“ Oh, I thought you’d never come back ,” Hongjoong sobs, burying his head in the crook of Yunho’s neck. The other laughs wetly, nosing at Hongjoong’s hair.

“Of course we would,” Wooyoung cries, wiggling under San’s arms to throw his around Hongjoong’s waist. “We just had to convince these idiots to come back, too.”

“For the record, I didn’t want to leave,” Mingi adds, his soft ears tickling the back of the human’s neck.

“ Never leave again, please,” Hongjoong pleads, not caring that the snow is soaking through to his knees.

San is heartbroken at his anguish, wiping the tears from Hongjoong’s cheeks. “I promise, we won’t do that ever again. I was so stupid to think this was the right option.”

They linger there in the middle of the field, huddled together in some semblance of a group hug. He loses track of how long he clings to them, never letting go until someone pipes up.

“Hongjoong, shouldn’t you go inside? You don’t have a coat on,” Yeosang worries, peeking around Yunho. They all peer down at the human shaking between them.

“He’s right,” Jongho adds, the concern in his dark brown eyes betraying the stoicness of his face. “I can carry you.”

“Please do,” Seonghwa says. Hongjoong is suddenly pulled upright by Yunho. Shivers wrack his body as he wraps his arms around Jongho, who lifts him with ease on his back.

“Damn, how long have you been outside? You’re freezing,” the younger remarks, shifting a bit before setting off back to the house. The human tries to protest, but he shushes him, dutifully carrying him across the snow.

The tears have frozen on his face as he tries to even out his erratic breathing. San coos as he walks alongside, rubbing at his cheeks some more.

“I didn’t think you’d miss us that much,” he admits, expression full of remorse.

Hongjoong shakes his head. “Of course I would! I care for you all so much.”

San blushes at that, ducking his head. Wooyoung comes up from behind, smacking the back of his head.

“See? I told you he loves us!”

They make it back to the house in no time, Jongho carefully maneuvering him through the front door and into a kitchen chair. They all sit around him, Seonghwa and Yunho standing. The room is quiet as they let him regain his composure.

“I just…” Hongjoong scrubs at his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re finally back.”

Mingi beams, spreading his arms over the table. “I can’t believe you wanted us back that much.”

“San said that we were burdens to you so we needed to leave,” Jongho adds, shifting in his seat across from him. Hongjoong glares at the fox hybrid, who shies away.

“San was wrong,” he says, voice wobbling. “I would never consider you guys burdens.” His gaze travels between all of them. “And I mean all of you.”

He lands on Yunho next. “You. How could you convince Wooyoung and Yeosang and then leave in the night, without any of you telling me? I basically had a heart attack when I woke up!” he accuses.

Yunho looks away, tail between his legs. “I’m sorry. I thought it might’ve been better not to tell you, since you would definitely try to stop us.”

“Well, you’re right about that,” he grumbles, running a hand through his hair. Yunho glances at Seonghwa, dipping his head.

“Thank you for looking after Hongjoong while we were gone,” he says. The other blinks, surprised at being addressed.

“Yes, of course. What else would I do? I’m sure Joong would’ve fallen apart completely if it weren’t for me,” he laughs with a painful smile. There’s a pause as they all take in what he said.

“Joong? Ah! That’s such a cute nickname, why didn’t I think of that sooner?” Wooyoung remarks, making the two blush.

“I–I didn’t mean to, it just slipped,” Seonghwa tries.

“It’s alright,” Hongjoong reassures, covering his cheeks. He shakes his head, trying to find his train of thought.

“Please, whatever you do, will you stay with me? That’s what I want to say. I don’t care as long as none of you ever leave like that again and shave years off of my life,” he says, dragging his hands down his face. Seven worried faces stare back at him, multiple hands grasping for his own.

“Definitely,” Yunho reassures, coming around and hugging Hongjoong from behind. “I’m sorry we put you through that. We love you, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong sighs, squeezing the hands that hold his. “I love you all, too.”

That night, he invites everyone to his room, paranoid they’ll disappear the moment they leave his sight. The bed is just big enough to pile eight bodies. With enough wiggling around, Hongjoong ends up in the center, bracketed by Yunho and San. Wooyoung and Yeosang take up the edge next to San. Mingi’s long frame fits in perfectly next to Yunho. Seonghwa and Jongho sit at the bottom, content to share the same space. The closeness is near suffocating, but Hongjoong wouldn’t trade it for anything. He breathes in slowly, basking in the warmth of his friends. 

When he falls asleep, it’s with the conviction that all is right again in his world.