Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Run. Sprint. Evade.

Voices get closer.

Rain falls heavier.

Mud appears.

Feet slip.

Eyes close.

Blood flows. 

Crawl. Hide. Escape.

And then?

Darkness.

The rain falls against the coffee shop windows in a steady rhythm, blending in with the soft indie music filtering through the small business. 

Junseo's finally closing for the night.

Joined by a half-asleep Leo, clad in a beanie and oversized hoodie, and his hard-working, studious boyfriend Jiahao, Junseo flips the sign to "closed" and shuts the blinds. The droopy, dim streets are sheltered from their view as the dark blinds drop to the ground, making the sleepy atmosphere of the coffee shop even more noticeable than before. 

Arms slide around Junseo's waist, engulfing him in warmth and care before he can blink. 

"I already took care of the dishes earlier. And no, I won't stop doing that, because it barely takes any time, and you need to get some rest," Jiahao hums, pressing his forehead into the wide berth between Junseo's shoulder blades. 

A muffled gag enters the space, sounded off by Leo, who stands from his spot at the now-closed window and crosses over to the kitchenette behind the bar. "The day that you two finally get a room will be the day that pigs finally, finally fly."

He leaves Junseo and Jiahao to their own devices. He doesn't know what they end up doing as he takes the trash and goes to the back exit to throw it away, but he's sure they're either slow dancing like an old married couple or running to their upstairs apartment to fuck like bunnies. 

Leo has a deep appreciation for his roommates, he really does, but third wheeling for years has started affecting him. 

Tossing the trash in the bin under the veranda, he takes a moment to look out at the rain and exhale a shaky breath into the wind. 

It's been three years since Junseo found him.

Three years since he was at the lowest of lows, barely a person, merely a puppet with blood in his veins and a brain on autopilot.


He remembers the first time he stepped into the coffee shop.

It's been in Junseo's family for generations, updated with the passage of time and the transferal of owners. The first time that Leo had truly smelled coffee was when he walked in, covered with the blood and dirt that followed him from the place of his captivity.


It was in the shop that Leo re-learned how to think. It was in the shop that he started listening to music, feeling the worn keys of the old piano in the corner beneath his calloused fingertips.


A chill wracks his body from the shrill winter climate. Even with a beanie and warm clothes, the cold bites his bones. 

With a silent reverence, he makes his daily promise to himself not to take any of this for granted, and to continue working towards paying Junseo back. (He'll never let him, but Leo doesn't care about the fine print of their arrangement.)

He turns to leave, satisfied with the completion of his task and the moment of reminiscence, but a sound captures his attention.


Small, quiet, but inexplicably hurt.


Leo turns to the direction of the source. He doesn't see anything upon first glance, but as he examines the spot next to the dumpster, he sees the beginning of pale legs and dirty feet.

On edge, he rounds the corner to the bin and squints, eyes gifted with night-sight from the moment he was born into this world. It's usually a curse, but right now, it's a blessing.


A person is lying beneath the dumpster.


It's a small crack, barely room to fit, but the figure has managed to curl up and submerge themselves beneath the hulking mass.

"Um...are you alive?" Leo calls out slowly, crouching down beside the structure. He can't get a look at the person's face, nor anything past their legs, but they look small and skinny and bloody and dirty and fuck, if he's come across a dead body out here, how's he gonna tell Junseo?

Miraculously, signs of life emit from the pale figure.

The right leg jerks wildly, as if trying to kick him, but it repeats the action multiple times before going completely limp.

"...go. I'm...not here."


Quiet, delicate, but explicitly masculine.


Leo hums thoughtfully, sitting on his ass on top of the wet ground, uncaring of the mud soaking into his freshly washed joggers. He cares more about this random guy, stuck under a dumpster, than his pants, which is saying a lot for his character development in the past three years. 

“Right. That’s why you’re talking. And trying to kick me. Which, like, not cool, dude.”

Sniffles ring from below the dumpster, followed by a harsh cough. “I wasn’t trying to. It just-- just happens…….who are you?”

“I feel like I’m the one who should be asking you that,” Leo snorts, rubbing his forehead exasperatedly. “Okay. I’m Leo. Lee Leo. I’m twenty-three, my ass is coated in mud, and I’m trying to get you out from under a dumpster.”

Silence follows.

He thinks he hears the guy sniffling more, and his leg does the odd kicking motion again.

“...the men. Are they gone? You don’t smell like them.”


Dots connect. At least, Leo thinks they’re starting to.


The guy is almost definitely a hybrid; from the way he’s sniffing their surroundings to the thump of his leg. It’s also a good sign that he’s not just a weird drunk dude that had too many and decided to reverse dumpster dive.

“I’m the only one out here. My roommate owns this shop. Can you get out? I’ll let you inside for a bit.” It’s a last ditch attempt at getting him to come willingly.

Leo has all the strength he needs to make lifting the dumpster an easy task and just hauling him inside, but he can tell he’s shaken and tired and hurt.

A leg moves. Instead of kicking, though, it embeds a knee into the mud.

The other knee follows suit, and slowly but surely, the man starts to crawl out from the dumpster. It’s a shaky attempt-- feeble, with gasps of exhaustion leaving his mouth from below the surface.

Finally, the man emerges.


The first thing Leo notices is the smell of blood and the crude way it cakes the sides of dirty blonde bunny ears.

They’re droopy, hanging on both sides of the man’s head with matted fur.

He’s caked in dirt and blood from the tips of his toes to the top of his head, drenched from the rain, and dressed in nothing but a tattered black shirt and shorts.

Another thought, foreign and new, unwanted, creeps into Leo’s brain.


Beautiful.


He’s beautiful.


Even with grime and muck covering his entire being, with exhaustion hanging off his shoulders-- he’s breathtaking.


Leo’s chest hurts. His eyes water.


He swallows down an emotion he can’t place, can’t name, and gets closer to the rabbit hybrid. Big, sad, painfully empty brown doe eyes follow his every movement, no matter how small or insignificant they might be.

“I’m…gonna pick you up, okay? I don’t think you should walk.” The guy could barely crawl out, and distantly, Leo wonders what it took for him to crawl under it in the first place.

The man doesn’t respond verbally, only offering him a shaky nod of his head and the slow wrapping of his arms around his body.

Leo scoops him up. He’s impossibly tiny.



He fears he could snap his bones with one grip. He fears he could tear him to shreds with his incisors.

However, he holds him gently, delicately, like he’s something precious.

Leo has a feeling, deep in the pit of his stomach, that he is.

Sangwon has no idea how he wound up in this situation. 

Well…there's a rough scenario in his brain, but it's covered in fog and fever. 

His limbs shake in Leo's arms, making the trek up the stairs more arduous than it was going to be. 

Leo doesn't say anything about it. If anything, he tightens his grip and the parts of their skin that touch set Sangwon on fire. 

He's not sure why he's trusting Leo, especially after his narrow escape from death earlier. There's just…something different about him. 

Sangwon doesn't trust humans. He can't stand them. 

Leo, though? Leo approached him in a different way than most humans did. He didn't stare lustfully at his body, nor make jokes about his ears or his status. He just…helped. 

They enter a bright hallway before Sangwon realizes, so bright that he turns his head and hides his face in the fabric of Leo's hoodie. 

“Sorry. Thought they'd be asleep by now,” Leo mumbles from above, toeing off his shoes at the entryway of the apartment and bringing Sangwon inside. Sangwon can feel the bass from his voice deep in his chest, rattling his bones.

“...they?” He questions, peeking out from Leo's chest with furrowed brows and fever-pinkened cheeks. Leo starts to answer, but another scent enters the space and Sangwon looks over to see another human, clad in a soft black robe and a green sheet mask.

His brain, fuzzy and full of static, reminds him of the fact that Leo’s roommate owns this place. It makes sense for the man to be in his home, indulging in the comforts of leisure after a long workday.

Sangwon doesn’t know leisure. He doesn’t know the softness of a black robe or the cooling effects of a wet sheet mask.


He curls closer to Leo, wishing the world would swallow him whole.


-----


Leo stares at Junseo.

Junseo stares at Leo.


It’s a battle of “who’s gonna let the cat out of the bag first?” and the cat, unfortunately, is the bunny hybrid laid across Leo’s arms.


Leo breaks the silence first, clearing his throat awkwardly. “...hey.”

“Hey,” Junseo responds, rather lamely, as he bridges the gap between them and takes a closer look at their visitor. “Did you make a friend on your trash run?”

An indignant snort makes way out of Leo’s nose, “Yeah, actually. Can he use the bath? And…preferably stay the night?” He knows Junseo will say yes, but asking for more favors sends nerves sprinting down his spine.

Junseo’s eyes soften, and even if he looks utterly ridiculous in his leisurewear, his expression reminds Leo of the fact that he’s his savior.

“Mm. I’ll go find some spare clothes that’ll fit. I think Hao’s might be our best option. Also, we ordered in tonight and coincidentally bought way too much,” the older man smiles, starting to walk down the hallway. He looks back at them, at the rabbit hybrid in particular, and smiles wider when their eyes meet. “Make yourself at home. We can talk about specifics later, but let Leo help you get cleaned up and warm. He doesn’t bite.”

Leo feels his cheeks heat up, and the rabbit hybrid makes a confused noise in the back of his throat at Junseo’s last comment. “Ignore him. He’s the most unserious person I’ve ever met. When you get to know him, you’ll understand.”

The bathroom greets them soon after. Leo settles the man on the sink and bends down to start the bath water.

Silence floods the room, only muted by the influx of water entering the porcelain tub.

Belatedly, he realizes he doesn’t know the guy’s name. He doesn’t know what he’s used to, where he’s been, or the circumstances of his sudden arrival.


Hybrids aren’t recognized as independent people in their society. They always have to be registered to an “owner”, a human of substantial financial status and capable of handling the responsibility of caring for another person.

There are some owners that treat hybrids better than others do.

Leo thinks the system is complete bullshit. Collaring a person with thoughts, feelings, and capabilities beyond a mere human…it all seems like a waste. It’s wrong, unethical, but society hasn’t caught up to rational thought.


Looking at the bunny hybrid, shaking and cold and feverish, bloody and scarred and empty, reminds Leo of a hybrid’s place in the world.

-----


“Name?” Leo asks as he approaches Sangwon again, the tub filled about halfway with water by now.

Sangwon shifts uncomfortably on the sink’s countertop, pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it on the ground next to him.

He hopes the dirt and blood doesn’t stain the clean, white tile.

He’s had limited social interaction outside of his owner and the other hybrids in his previous home. It’s hard to do something as simple as introducing himself, but Leo is looking at him with patience and genuine curiosity, so the words come easier than they usually would.

“Sangwon…and I can go after the bath, you really don’t need t-” Leo cuts him off almost instantly with a soft ruffle to the top of his head. “You’re staying the night and getting some food. It’s late and the rain’s just gonna get worse,” Leo answers, a comforting smile decorating his lips.

He knows better than to reject rare kindness, so he gives a nod and looks down at his lap, tears bubbling in his eyes before he knows it. They threaten to spill, but he wills them away.


Crying doesn’t do any good. He’s learned that by now.


“I’ll leave you some clothes outside the door. Take as much time as you need, okay?” Leo ruffles his hair again, uncaring of the muck coating it, and leaves the bathroom with the quiet click of the door shutting behind him.

Sangwon manages to make it off of the bathroom counter and sheds his shorts onto the ground alongside his shirt. The bath looks inviting and warm, which makes it an easy decision to sink into the water and close his eyes to relish in the heat.

The cold in his bones eases up, unfreezing and turning him to mush.

He doesn’t know how long he spends just laying there, but he eventually gains the strength to scrub the dirt and blood off of his body. The water turns to a murky brown by the end of it and the sight makes him grimace.

Mourning the loss of the nice bath, he drains the water and rinses off in the shower, mindful around his ears. He watches fresh blood drip from his forehead and onto the white tub below him, registering the pain blooming at the top of his head.


Sangwon isn’t surprised that he didn’t escape his sprint unscathed.

His owner’s guards were fast and abrasive, uncaring of how they got their product back as long as he wasn’t dead. He’s glad he isn’t dead.

He thinks that if they’d succeeded and he was returned to his owner, he wouldn’t be walking the earth anymore. The thought makes anxiety crawl back in, right as he turns off the water and steps out of the tub into a warm towel.

After tomorrow, he won’t be sheltered behind the safety of this carefully curated home.

The pressing unknown causes him to shake.

Leo paces the kitchen as Sangwon bathes, two plates of warm takeout resting on the counter in front of him, alongside a first-aid kit and a blanket.

He’s changed into a clean hoodie and fresh joggers, clean from mud and rain from his earlier stint outside.

Junseo told him they’d talk in the morning, introduce Sangwon to Jiahao, and decide their plan of action. He hopes their plan of action includes keeping their new addition safe and away from whatever it is that he’s running from.


Soft steps pad into the kitchen and Leo turns, finding Sangwon standing uncomfortably in the doorway.


He’s smaller than Leo expected, now that he’s standing and more visible than before. He doesn’t know if it’s because Sangwon tries to fold into himself, to hide, but the difference in their size isn’t lost on him.

Making friends with a rabbit hybrid isn’t smart, he tries to rationalize. He could very easily snap his bones, draw blood with the drag of his teeth across Sangwon’s skin.

Leo knows what he is. He knows what Sangwon is. He knows they shouldn’t cross paths more than they need to, but at this moment, logic doesn’t matter.

Jiahao’s clothes dangle from his lithe form and his ears drip water onto the ground. He’s tinted pink and his hair looks fluffy and soft, free of the matted tufts that plagued it, and his skin is smooth and delicate, evident from the absence of dirt and blood.

Leo notices a few odd bruises here and there, but a nasty one makes itself known from the left side of Sangwon’s hairline, trailing down the side of his face.


He bites down a growl that threatens to boom from his chest.


Instead, he plasters on another smile and pats on a barstool, “C’mon, eat.”

Sangwon hesitates for a brief moment, chewing on his bottom lip like he’s refraining from saying something in refusal, but he ends up sitting on the soft cushion and picking up the chopsticks adjacent to him.

Leo sits next to the rabbit hybrid, opening the kit and looking at the canvas of bruises on pale skin. Aside from stray scratches and cuts, there doesn’t appear to be anything too severe, but then he spots a red patch next to one of Sangwon’s blonde ears.

“Did you fall? Or did something-- someone hit you? On the head?” He asks, interrupting Sangwon mid-bite. Sangwon turns to him with wide eyes and a hesitant nod, swallowing the small bite of food.

“...with a rod. Before I ran.”


A rod.


Leo remembers the pain of metal crashing against his skull, fists punching against his skin, and the aftermath of the sting.


“Can I see?” He asks, voice soft, hands shaking as they approach Sangwon’s hair. The other man watches him, brown doe eyes following his hands, and he nods again.

With permission, Leo parts the blonde strands, looking at the damage.

A blossoming bruise, a cut, with blood slowly moving from the injury. He disinfects it, causing a wince from below him, and does the best that he can with limited materials. He hopes it doesn’t need stitches.

He could do them, but it wouldn’t be pretty and Sangwon would most definitely not enjoy the experience.

“...let me keep an eye on it and tell me if it starts feeling worse. We might need to go to a hospital.”


Sangwon’s eyes widen with a new emotion, fear swimming in brown orbs, and he shakes his head with too much ferocity. It makes him sway on the barstool, Leo reaching out to hold his arms and steady him.


“No. No, because they’ll send me back, and I can’t go back. I can’t…” Sangwon’s words come out fast and panicked, his right leg mimicking the kicking gesture from earlier.

Leo knows he needs to settle the situation before it dissolves into full-blown panic. He’s been in Sangwon’s spot before, Junseo in his own, holding Leo and murmuring assurances that he wouldn’t have to step foot in the ring ever, ever again.

He tries to calm the rabbit hybrid. He holds him in an embrace, humming into his hair and rocking them back and forth, but nothing eases the shakes or the pleas of “no, not again, no”.


So, in that moment, Leo pulls back. He looks down at Sangwon, tilts his chin up, and locks them into a trance of eye contact.

His free hand reaches up in a quick motion, and Leo tugs the black beanie off of his head.


Brown wolf ears spring out.


The left one is missing a portion of the tip, and they shake themselves out of the confines of the fabric in a breath of relief.

Sangwon’s jaw drops. Leo stares, puts his hands square on Sangwon’s shoulders, and promises.

“I won’t let anything happen to you. You have my word. You’re safe.”

He watches as Sangwon’s eyes dart around his body. How they linger on his neck, free of a collar, and how they peer at the missing chunk of his ear.

Within the space of a breath, Sangwon crumbles.

Tears stream down his cheeks and arms spring up, wrapping themselves around Leo’s neck, and he all but melts into him. He cries into his chest, face pressing against the cotton of his hoodie, and allows himself to break.


Leo holds him.


He makes sure he doesn’t fall apart.

They stay like that until Sangwon’s breathing slows and he becomes dead-weight in Leo’s arms.

The wolf hybrid peeks down at his chest, seeing Sangwon’s closed eyes and parted lips, and sighs a breath of relief.

It’s easy to gather the man into his arms again, lifting him up from the barstool and toting him to his own room.


His room is decently sized, full of things that were once a luxury to him. Sometimes, it still feels like they are.

A warm bed, full of blankets and pillows. A lamp with a soft orange lightbulb settled inside, sat next to an air humidifier on the nightstand. A phone, charging and lit up on his desk, alongside a laptop that still has his latest midi file pulled up.

Usually, his room is only occupied by one person: himself.

Junseo never breaches the doorway, allowing Leo the space that he’s carefully curated for himself. He comes in when invited, when Leo deems it safe that another person enters his sanctuary, his first ever space to call his own.


As he lays Sangwon on his bed and pulls the blankets over him, he finds that he doesn’t mind another person inhabiting it.

Leo brushes stray blonde strands out of Sangwon’s sleeping face, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest.


A knock sounds at the door, rousing Leo from his careful watch on the rabbit hybrid.

He walks over, careful to not wake the sleeping man, and opens the door to Junseo’s sheetmask-free face.

Leo steps into the hall, cracking the door, and leans against the wall. Junseo stands next to him, glancing at the sleeping hybrid in Leo’s bed, before looking back at the wolf and giving him a knowing glance.

He goes to speak, but Leo beats him to it, with pleading eyes and rushed syllables.

“He can’t go back.”

Junseo looks like he expected this. He rests a hand on Leo’s shoulder, a comforting weight amidst anxiety and longing. “I know.”

“I don’t know where he came from, or what he’s running from, or why I feel some sort of…attachment to him, but I do. He’s terrified. I think he has a fucking concussion. He might need stitches. I don’t…I don’t know what to do, hyung,” Leo’s voice shakes and so do his hands, the gravity of the situation settling in the hallway for the first time since Sangwon’s arrival.

The older man nods, as if he understands, because he does.

“When I found you, I felt the same way, you know?” Junseo muses, rubbing his thumb along Leo’s shoulder blade. “You were black and blue, you kept trying to bite me, but you looked lost. Scared. I knew from the moment I met you, I would never leave you. Not unless you wanted me to. I’m really glad you didn’t want me to, by the way, because you’re my best friend.”

Leo laughs, fragile in nature but genuine, and the tension eases from his shoulders.

Junseo smiles, reaching up to ruffle his hair before pulling away. “He has a home here if he wants it. We’ll figure out the technicalities later. Just help him acclimate, for now. I’ll call up Geonwoo and see if he can swing by tomorrow and look at his injuries.”


He loves Junseo. He would do anything for this guy. Literally anything.


“Thank you, hyung.”


He means it with every bone in his body.


-----


With a parting goodnight to Junseo, Leo closes his door and looks back at the bed.

Sangwon’s eyes are open, blinking at him in the dim light, and Leo frowns.

“Did we wake you up? I’m sorry,” he mumbles, walking over to the bed. He goes to sit down on the floor beside it, but Sangwon’s hand shoots out and grabs onto Leo’s hoodie with surprising strength.


“Stay.”


It’s not a question. It’s not a request.

It’s a demand.


“...are you sure?” Leo asks, blinking in disbelief, and Sangwon gives him the most affirmative nod he’s ever seen. He looks half asleep, yet so sure in his demands, and it leaves no room for Leo to argue.

He slides into the bed, pulling up the blankets over himself, and he looks down at Sangwon.

The rabbit hybrid looks satisfied with himself. He latches onto Leo without second thought, wrapping his arms around his waist and looking up at him.


“Thank you, Leo,” he murmurs, soft and groggy, and Leo’s lips quirk up into a shaky smile.


He shakes his head, smoothing out Sangwon’s hair with his hand. “You don’t need to thank me. Just sleep. We can talk in the morning, okay?”

Silence. Leo waits for a response, but it won’t come, because Sangwon’s already asleep again, hands curled into the fabric around Leo’s waist.

Leo doesn’t sleep for a long time. When he does, the sun has begun appearing behind his bedroom curtains.


They curl into each other in the throes of their unconsciousness, bodies facilitating warmth and security.

Predator and prey lay together in the dawn, their future unknown as the sun rises.

Chapter Text

Sangwon wakes up to something tickling his waist.

It’s soft, fuzzy, and has somehow wrapped around his entire midsection.

He blinks sleep out of his eyes, hazy in the dimmed lighting of the room he finds himself in. Distantly, he remembers it to be Leo’s, as well as the circumstances that led to sleeping in the other hybrid’s bed.

Finally, Sangwon looks down. Leo is curled around him like a protective barrier, and around his middle, lies Leo’s tail. It’s long, with wild tufts of fur popping out in different directions. He wonders how Leo had hidden it the day before.

The other man groans, shifting in the midst of his sleep. His arms encapsulate Sangwon in warmth.

Instead of feeling fear at the unfamiliar feeling, it makes his chest swell and his eyes water.

He’s never felt more protected in his life.

It’s odd, feeling protected by a predator hybrid, especially after being taught to avoid and defend against them.

Anxin would probably be proclaiming his insanity if he saw the display.

Thinking of Anxin hurts his heart, knives stabbing into the organ, so he abandons that train of thought in favor of hiding his face in Leo’s chest and letting the scent of pine trees invade his senses.

Maybe it’s because Leo was disguised as a human when they met. A small part of Sangwon envies him: it’s not easy for a rabbit hybrid to disguise themselves, especially with his long ears and small stature.

If he wasn’t a hybrid, the men wouldn’t have come.

If he wasn’t a hybrid, he’d feel more like a person and less like a machine.

There are multiple hypotheticals that he can think of, but none solve the obvious issue. He is a hybrid, and no beanie or heel inserts would change that.

He wouldn’t want them to. Even after all of the trouble, the fists, the demeaning communications directed towards him-- he knows he’s a hybrid, and it’s a fact that he swallows and accepts because there’s no way around it. 

Sangwon doesn’t realize he’s shaking, and when he does, it’s due to Leo looking down at him with sleepy eyes and resting a large, warm hand on his right thigh. His leg must’ve been kicking again, a nervous tick he’s had since birth.

Another thing wrong with him. Another thing that holds him back. Another thing that causes the men to laugh.

Leo doesn’t laugh.

He rubs his thumb on the soft fabric of Sangwon’s borrowed sweatpants, a soft rumble in his chest soothing the nerves out of the rabbit hybrid’s limbs.

When he stops shaking, Leo cracks a small smile and sits up, stretching his arms over his head. “Morning. Or afternoon. Is it?” The wolf hybrid squints at his alarm clock, and sure enough, it’s near three in the afternoon. They’d had a rough night, so he doesn’t see any issue with it. Junseo must have not either, because he hadn’t tried to wake them up or pry them off of each other.

“Does your head hurt? I’ll go ask if they managed to get ahold of Geonwoo, but he’s usually super busy. Not a lot of rogue hybrid doctors in this day and age, y’know.”

Leo starts to move, unwrapping himself from Sangwon, which is something that he severely dislikes. A pale, small hand reaches out and grasps onto Leo’s shirt in a death grip, going white at the knuckles. “Take me with you,” he sputters, desperate in an attempt to stay close to his savior.

Without Leo, the men would have found him.

Without Leo, he would’ve died under a dumpster.

The other man seems to sense his hesitation and offers a nod, detaching Sangwon’s hand from his shirt in order to help him out of bed. The rabbit hybrid sways just a bit, feet touching the cold floor and sending a jolt of sudden awareness through his body.

Aside from the dull throbbing in his temple and a tinge of nausea, he feels relatively fine. The warm bath from the night before undoubtedly staved off sickness from the cold and rain, as well as the soft clothes he was given. He doesn’t remember the last time he wore something other than his owner’s uniform black shorts and shirt.

All the house hybrids were given them to wear. Two pairs each. Sangwon remembers the first time his owner dressed him in pretty clothes, and after that, he never wished to wear such frilled garments ever again.

Leo reaches out and pats him tentatively on the shoulder.

Their height difference stands out to Sangwon more in the light of day, especially as he cranes his neck to look at him. He’s sure they’re a sight to see: a 5’5” bunny hybrid compared to a wolf hybrid that easily hits 6 feet (and likely surpasses that).

“Ready?” Leo asks, patient as he steers them to the door.

Sangwon nods. He’s tired of remembering the past in the comfort of Leo’s bedroom, eager to move on with the future five minutes, more than the past five years.

Leo can already sense three people when he exits the room with Sangwon in tow.

Junseo is easy to pick out, a steady heartbeat and calm breathing. Jiahao must be right next to him, because when he is, they almost blend into one. He can tell that Jiahao’s there, though, due to the small erraticness of his leg bouncing on the wood flooring. He hasn’t seen them yet, but he’s sure that Junseo is patting his knee.

They complement each other like that. They always have.

The third presence is Geonwoo. He has a different aura than the other two, more brashness in his breathing patterns and his voice carrying loudly throughout the living room.

With a quick glance at Sangwon, it’s obvious that the rabbit hybrid doesn’t notice the guest just yet.

Leo’s always had sharper senses, blessed (or cursed) with the traits of his wolf genetics. They’re helpful on some occasions, others not so much.

They helped in the ring. He supposes that’s one thing he should be grateful for.

He clears his throat, trying to alert the three men in the living room of their presence. Sangwon’s hand has found its way back into the fabric of his shirt and he can’t help but find it insanely endearing.

“The three of them are out there. Junseo, Jiahao, and Geonwoo. I’ll introduce you, so no need to freak out,” Leo looks down at him, trying to convey a semblance of comfort, but Geonwoo typically makes him nervous as well.

It’s not that Geonwoo’s a bad guy. In fact, it’s the polar opposite.

It was Geonwoo that patched him up after Junseo found him. It was Geonwoo that ran around the entirety of Seoul to aid runaway hybrids.

Leo hates feeling indebted to people. He feels indebted to Junseo, but at least the older offers him a chance to work in the coffee shop. With Geonwoo, there’s no way to pay him back yet. Geonwoo doesn’t want him nor need him to, but Leo’s been trained to wait for the other foot to drop.

It just hasn’t yet.

He decides to stop delaying the inevitable and walks into the living room, bunny hybrid trailing behind him like a shadow. He makes a show of his appearance, yawning loud and stretching his arms above his head. His ears twitch as if they’re trying to stretch, too.

Junseo cracks a laugh of disbelief, leaning against the back of the couch with his arm slung around Jiahao’s shoulders. “Finally. I think that’s the longest you’ve ever slept, and that’s saying something, considering you’re never up before ten,” Junseo hums, pointing to the spare space on the loveseat adjacent to the couch.

Leo walks over and takes a spot easily, crashing into the cushions with reckless abandon, “Yeah, because you always play disgustingly loud EDM music to wake me up through the door. You don’t even like EDM.”

They carry on with their banter, typical of them each day, until Leo notices that Sangwon is hanging anxiously around the loveseat’s edge. He hasn’t sat down yet, rather focused on eyeing the two unknown humans in the room.

Cursing himself internally for getting distracted, he pats the spot next to him. “Sangwon?” He calls out, the bunny hybrid whipping his head over right away. The action causes an involuntary wince to escape his pink lips, a hand coming up to rub at a bruised forehead.

Geonwoo, who has been quietly observing on the sidelines, steps over. “Aaand this is where I come in. I’m Geonwoo, completely and legitimately certified to examine your cranium, Sangwon,” the taller man smiles, eyes curling up into cat-like crescents as he does so.

His smile seems to ease the tension from Sangwon’s shoulders. Leo can only think about how brave the other hybrid is, allowing strangers and attention like this into his life after the night he’s just had.

Leo knows there’s more to what happened, bubbling under the surface and waiting to fester. He’s not sure he’s ready to learn about it yet.

Sangwon finally sits in the spot next to him, pulling his knees to his chest and sinking into himself. It makes him look smaller, and Leo knows that this is a behavior he’s practiced like clockwork, just from watching him automatically default to it. He shifts closer to Sangwon, eyeing Geonwoo as he approaches them.

There’s something vicious in his brain as he watches Geonwoo, ready to separate them the second he notices something’s off.

Junseo seems to pick up on his behavior, particularly of the red glint in Leo’s eyes and the slight snarl that his lips have unconsciously started to form. He stands from the couch, motioning for Jiahao to follow, and starts to head towards the separated kitchen.

“Leo? Come help us with something real quick. They’ll be fine.”

Geonwoo and Sangwon both turn to look at him, something shifting in Sangwon’s brown doe eyes. He uncurls himself a bit, squares his shoulders, and Leo can tell he’s trying to feign confidence. “I’ll be fine. Um, you should go. You won’t be that far away,” The bunny hybrid mumbles, Geonwoo humming in approval.

“Just checking on him. The basics. Just like when I come check on you, okay?” Geonwoo reassures, moving to get his tools out of his bag.

Everything in Leo wants to stay. He feels a need to watch Sangwon, to make sure that no hair on his head is touched, yet he forces himself off the couch. “Right. Yeah. Okay. Mhm. Off I go. Yep.” The words come out in ushered syllables, like he’s trying to convince himself, and he stalks off to the kitchen with a knot in the bottom of his stomach.

Leo leaves the room and with him, he takes every shred of confidence in Sangwon’s body.

His shoulders slump the second that the other hybrid is out of sight. He curls back in on himself, a practiced effort to hide, to take up as little space as possible.

Geonwoo doesn’t comment on the silent retreat. Instead, he fishes out a thermometer and a flashlight. “You ever been to the doctor?” He asks, tilting his head as he does so. He doesn’t move to examine him just yet, taking his time and allowing Sangwon to acclimate.

He shakes his head. Any illness was taken care of by himself and the other hybrids, a working conglomerate of people just trying to keep each other alive. His owner didn’t believe in sparing the expense for a high-priced hybrid doctor, especially when there were so many of them.

His mind flashes back to Anxin again, an unwilling thought in an unwanted body.

Geonwoo nods and moves a bit closer, holding up the thermometer. “I’ll just take your temperature first. Hyung said you’d been in the rain, so it’s better to be safe than sorry. I just have to tap it on your forehead.”

He waits until Sangwon nods in affirmation and does the action exactly as explained, quick and easy, over in a flash. The small device beeps with an answer, Geonwoo putting it back and picking up the flashlight next.

“Small fever, nothing to worry about though. You’re lucky. Just rest up and don’t overexert yourself, okay? One time I worked too hard when I had a fever and I totally threw up on Junseo hyung’s shoes, and then I had to buy him new ones. I’m broke and he has very specific shoe needs, so the lesson was definitely learned,” Geonwoo laughs, trying to ease the nerves floating in the room.

It works: Sangwon can’t hold back the small chuckle at the image of a green Geonwoo and an upset Junseo. His reaction causes Geonwoo to smile and turn on the flashlight, reaching out to tilt Sangwon’s chin up. “Okay. Follow the light with your eyes-- checking to see if you have a concussion. You got a nasty head bang, didn’t you?” He asks as he moves the flashlight.

Sangwon follows to the best of his ability. It’s bright, causing his eyes to water just a bit and the headache to subtly pulse in the back of his brain. As Geonwoo puts the flashlight down, Sangwon remembers the way the metal rod cracked into his skull.

It was fast, abrupt, and bonechilling.

He doesn’t know how he ran afterwards: sheer adrenaline, the fear of death, or the fear of something worse than that. 

Either way, he’d escaped, though Geonwoo’s quick to tell him that he’s not unscathed. “You have a concussion. Not severe, from what I can tell. Some rest and limited screen time is gonna do you wonders. I can give you some meds, too.”

Anxin would probably laugh at him for being dumb enough to get a concussion. Then, he would probably cry and profusely apologize for laughing. He’d say he wished it was him instead, that he was the one cracked with the rod, that he was the one that had to run from the men.

He wonders if they went back for Anxin. He wonders if Anxin thinks he’s dead. He wonders if Anxin is dead.

Geonwoo waves a hand in front of his face, a concerned frown etched on his lips. “You with me?”

The rabbit hybrid nods, averting his eyes and nervously bouncing his right leg. Geonwoo jots a few things down on a notepad and then hands him a small bottle of pills, “Give these to any of the hyungs and they’ll help you remember to take them, okay? Just one a day. Should last you the week.”

He rolls the bottle in his palm, staring at the small capsules. He’s never taken medication before and in his concussed haze, he wonders if they taste like candy.

Geonwoo must know he’s thinking of it, bizarre as the thought is, “No, they don’t taste like candy. I can confirm this, unfortunately.”

Or, he accidentally said it out loud.

His cheeks flush a pretty pink and he scratches the back of one of his ears, leg thumping from something of embarrassment, “I knew that.” He huffs, indignant, and Geonwoo lets out a hearty laugh.

“Can I check the wound on your head? After that, we can be all done.”

Sangwon, feeling the rapport growing between them, has an easier time nodding now. He thinks Geonwoo might be another person that he can trust, someone with good intentions.

It’s a nice feeling, having people he’s starting to rely on. He wonders when it will change, when they’ll leave, but for now, he closes his eyes and allows Geonwoo to carefully card his fingers through blonde locks of hair.

The atmosphere in the kitchen is stale, stagnant, and Leo’s tail sways behind him in poorly restrained agitation.

“Help” includes watching Jiahao and Junseo make googly-eyes at each other, whilst Leo scrambles the largest heap of eggs he’s seen in his life.

Junseo sits at the bar, turning his attention from Hao to Leo. “You looked like you were going to bite his head off. I doubt Geonwoo tastes good, so I figured giving you a task would make you less likely to commit murder.”

The wolf hybrid scoffs, turning the stove off and setting the spatula on the counter next to it. “I wasn’t gonna murder him, just…lightly graze his flesh. Like a butter knife. And stuff,” he realizes, after he says this, that he’s not really helping himself.

Jiahao rounds the counter and reaches up to smooth some of Leo’s hair out of his eyes, a calm but calculated glint in his eyes.

“I drew up the papers.”

Leo blinks, looking down at him with wide eyes, “That was fast…”

The other man smirks, crossing his arms and leaning against the kitchen counter. “Yeah, well, you’ve known him for less than twenty-four hours and you’re interacting with him in ways I’ve never seen you interact,” Jiahao speaks matter-of-factly. Junseo stifles a chuckle across the room.

Leo feels unbelievably seen.

“...I dunno. There’s something about him, I guess. I don’t even know what it is,” Leo confesses. His eyebrows furrow and he glares holes into the kitchen tile beneath his feet, as if it personally affronted him.

He must truly look conflicted, because Jiahao lets up on the teasing and points towards the papers sitting next to Junseo at the bar. “If he wants to stay, everything’s mapped out. New surname, forged documents, new owner-on-paper.” Jiahao says the last part quieter, like he doesn’t want to say it but he has to.

See, Jiahao has document forgery down to a science.

Whilst Junseo takes care of relocating runaways and sheltering as needed, Jiahao works on documentation to ensure a hybrid can live as normal of a life as possible. With the aid of Geonwoo, who works around the clock to give medical attention when needed, the trio have perfected the art of what the coffee shop really is: a hybrid relocation center.

In regards to paperwork, Jiahao simply bestows a new surname to the hybrid, forges government ownership documentation, and even goes as far as birth records and past history. It’s grueling work, something that has taken years to perfect, but he’s the most reputable yet undercover hybrid document technician in Seoul. 

Junseo typically finds the owner-on-paper, usually a hybrid rights activist that is open to housing a roommate. They don’t find replacement owners, fostering a belief of hybrid independence and freedom, to the extent of what they can do whilst skirting around the law.

Leo wonders what would’ve happened if Junseo hadn’t found him, half-dead in the ring and fervently feral. He’s glad he won’t find out, that he’s here, safe and sound and his own individual person.

“Thank you.”

He might sound like a broken record at this point, stuck on apologizing or thanking the two on a near-hourly basis, but he means it with his entire chest.

Jiahao just reaches over and gives him a side-hug, patting him on the back and going to reach for a plate. “Don’t mention it. I’ll take the eggs as payment for my services,” he grins, scooping a hefty portion onto the porcelain dish.

Leo looks over at Junseo, sending a playfully scathing look, to which the eldest responds by giving him a thumbs up.

He loves them, so much.

After eggs are eaten and dishes swim in the sink, their meal ends with the footsteps of two people entering the kitchen. Sangwon makes a beeline towards Leo, not holding onto his clothing anymore but lingering in his space. Leo acclimates easily, leaning closer but keeping his hands to himself.

The bunny hybrid looks calmer, though he still sends nervous glances towards Jiahao and Junseo. Leo’s almost forgotten that they haven’t shared many words between each other, though that’s going to change rather quickly.

Geonwoo raises a hand into a quick wave, smile set naturally on his features. “I’m out. He’s got meds and knows how to not throw up on Junseo hyung’s shoes,” he says triumphantly, causing a groan from Junseo. “Please do not remind me. I still see that happening in my nightmares…” Junseo sighs, running a hand over his face.

Leo really wishes he could have seen it happen. All he was able to witness was the aftermath, which included soiled sneakers and an angry Junseo. He’d never seen Junseo angry, and hasn’t seen him angry since, so the shoe incident must’ve really messed with him.

They say their goodbyes, even Sangwon, and Geonwoo leaves them to the second part of their day: presenting the possible future.


-----------

Now, Sangwon’s faced with Leo’s roommates and an intimidating stack of papers. One is the man from yesterday, the owner of the coffee shop and the wearer of the green sheet mask and black robe. The other man is intimidatingly handsome. His eyes are windows that feel all-knowing, all-seeing, and cause a shiver to run down Sangwon’s spine.

The unknown, handsome man goes first. “I’m Jiahao, nice to meet you~ I was busy when you came in last night, but it’s really great to see you today.”

His voice is soft, delicate, gentle. It’s a shift from his outward appearance, lightening Sangwon’s expression of him, and he tries to stop staring at him...to no avail. He’s someone that Sangwon thinks fills the room without trying to. There’s a grace hanging over his shoulders.

Just like that, he’s less intimidating and more captivating.

The coffee shop owner, Junseo, speaks up next. “...and I’m Junseo. We met yesterday, but I neglected to properly introduce myself. How old are you, Sangwon?” Junseo breaks the silence left by Geonwoo’s absence, looking over at the rabbit hybrid.

Sangwon, sitting on a stool next to Leo, gnaws on the inside of his lip in trepidation. He has a feeling that the next bit of their conversation is important.


Will they ask him to leave? Will they contact his owner?

Will they ask him about the men and the rod and the night and the past?


Right. Back on topic. His age-- that one’s easy. Ish. “...mm, twenty-two? I don’t know the exact day…just the year.”

Leo stares at him as though he can peer into his soul. His tail, long and as disheveled as earlier, taps absentmindedly on the back of his stool.

His eyes make Sangwon feel exposed, open, dissected, yet he doesn’t dislike the feeling of being seen by him.

“That makes you our maknae, then,” Junseo hums, and the wording isn’t lost on Sangwon. “...our?” Sangwon questions, eyebrows furrowing. His confusion is evident, even more so when Jiahao pushes the papers towards him.

“If you want that,” Jiahao speaks softly, a quiet promise floating through the air and to Sangwon’s long, blonde ears. “We operate as a covert hybrid relocation service. Those papers are forged documents: a fake past, new surname, and a new way of life. That is, assuming you don’t…want to go back?”


Go back.

Going back.


Sangwon shakes his head, eyes darkening, and he feels his hands start to shake. “No. I can’t, I can’t…” His voice is already quiet, but it dissolves into a whisper, and all he can think about is the rod and the men, the hands and his owner and Anxin.

Leo’s scent wafts over him, pine trees in a sea of anxiety, and his hands cover Sangwon’s trembling ones.

Warmth. Pine. Calm.

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, while Leo bends down and looks him in the eyes. “You don’t have to. You don’t have to tell us why, you don’t have to worry about it anymore. I promise,” he murmurs, words just for him and not the other two in the room. It feels like a shared moment, secluded from prying eyes.

JIahao and Junseo are silent for a few moments, allowing them the space to breath and communicate in their own way. Once Sangwon calms and the storm passes, he looks back over at the duo.

“Can I stay?” He asks hesitantly, squeezing Leo’s hands, which now rest in his lap.

Junseo rounds the counter and reaches out, patting the top of Sangwon’s hair in a gentle, supportive manner.

“It’s official.”

Sangwon joins their family on a winter afternoon, fresh with a concussion and a low-grade fever.

Leo is reminded of when he accepted Junseo’s proposal three years prior, saved from death and nearly non-verbal.

The similarities and differences are striking, pulsing through his heart and brain like a sword. He sees himself in the way Sangwon hesitantly signs his name on the dotted lines of paperwork, of the document that declares Junseo as his legal owner. He sees himself in the way Sangwon bows his head in appreciation and how he carries himself to give Junseo a tentative, barely-there hug.

He feels the need to protect deep down to his core.

After the papers are signed, Jiahao takes his leave to deliver them to the Seoul Hybrid Association, a kiss shared with Junseo before he steps out the door.

It’s always nerve-wracking when Jiahao leaves to drop off documents. Their line of service is dangerous, law-breaking, and scary. No matter how many times they repeat the process of relocation, it never gets easier.

Leo doesn’t believe in God, but he prays that Jiahao comes back each time he leaves.

Junseo crosses the room and shakes out his shoulders, trying to ease the nerves from sending his boyfriend off to the danger zone again. “Now that that’s settled, we can talk shop. Coffee shop.”

They move to the living room, lo-fi music playing quietly on the television and all of them curled up on the couch. Sangwon finds comfort in the corner of the cushions, squeezed next to Leo. The wolf hybrid has to hold himself back from touching him, the need for contact whirling in his brain. He settles for draping a blanket over the younger’s lap, which elicits a soft “thanks” from his pretty pink lips.

Leo would die for him, and he met him yesterday.

“You probably noticed, but Leo goes undercover outside,” Junseo starts, looking over at both of them. “He’s human for all intents and purposes outside of this house, but that’s his prerogative. What do you want, Sangwon? Is that something you’re ready to decide?”

Leo can see the gears turning in Sangwon’s brain. His leg starts bouncing and his eyes avert from Junseo’s down to the blanket in his lap, nimble fingers picking at the threads. “It’s…I can’t hide it very well. I can’t put my ears up for too long and my, uh…mannerisms, they’re not really…human,” Sangwon mumbles.

Then, he lifts his face and looks over at Junseo, bottom lip worried between his teeth. “I know it’ll make life harder if I am, but…I don’t want to act like a human. I want to be me.”

Sangwon speaks non-negotiably, showing a side that Leo hasn’t seen from him yet.

He wants to see it more.

Admiration blooms alongside the need to protect in his lungs, one in the right and one in the left. It doesn’t take a mind reader to know that Sangwon has probably been through some of the worst things imaginable, as most hybrids have been, and yet he owns his identity in ways that Leo wishes he, himself could.

Junseo nods, accepting the proclamation with a smile and a supportive squeeze of Sangwon’s knee. “We can work with that. Anything you want.”


-----------


The rest of the day is spent outlining the near future.

Sangwon agrees to work in the coffee shop easily. He mentions that he has experience cooking and cleaning, speaking in a way which alludes to a past that Leo wants to ask about but doesn’t.

Jiahao makes it back, safe and sound, entering Junseo’s awaiting arms. Leo doesn’t roll his eyes at the display of affection this time, merely observing as they embrace like they’re being reunited after a decade of separation.

When all is said and done, dinner ate and a comfortable silence following, the matter of Sangwon’s room comes into play.

“We have a spare room that we use for relocation. It could be yours, if you want,” Junseo offers, Jiahao hanging sleepily off of his shoulder. Leo rubs the back of his neck, standing next to Sangwon as he turns off the last light in the living room.

His brain then supplies the incessant need to protect, consuming and all-too present.

“Or he could just share with me,” he says casually, putting his hands in his pockets like it’s no big deal. Sangwon looks up at him with parted lips, almost in awe, and then glances at Junseo. “...yes. That’s fine, um, sharing with Leo…hyung,” He tests the name on his tongue, a shy, small smile morphing on his face after he speaks.


Leo’s heart literally combusts. Into pieces. Smithereens. He’s melting. All over the hardwood floor.


Junseo seems like he expected this, a knowing color lighting his eyes. His lips twitch into a smirk and he shoots a look at Leo. The wolf hybrid swears that there’s a tease of a wink in his eye, but it’s over before he can say anything.

“Alright, then. We’ll see you two tomorrow. Get some rest, you earned it.” With that, Junseo steers Jiahao into their own room, leaving Sangwon and Leo in the dim hallway.

Silence follows.

Leo chances a glance down at the bunny hybrid, who stares at his socked feet as though they’re the most interesting things in the world. He feels his lips turning into a smile and rests a hand delicately on the small of Sangwon’s back. “C’mon. You’re concussed and I’m just perpetually ready to sleep at any given moment.”

Sangwon follows him without question.

His room is just as they left it that afternoon, bedsheets ruffled from prior sleep. Leo plops down unceremoniously with a loud “oof”, patting the spot next to him.

Oh.

Is he just assuming that Sangwon will want to sleep with him again? Not…not with him, but well, next to him. He sits up, looking the other hybrid up and down. “Uh. We could totally get you a bed and squeeze it somewhere in here. Maybe bunk beds. Bunk beds are cool. So, so cool, actually,” Leo hurries to rectify the assumption, but Sangwon silences him with a simple shake of the head.

The younger crawls into the bed and curls up right next to him, pressing Leo down onto the sheets and nosing into the crook of the wolf hybrid’s neck.

“This is…nice. You’re nice. I wanna stay here.”

And what kind of demon would Leo be to say no to that?

He’s restless again.

Sangwon sleeps comfortably, hand curled into his shirt and his limbs entangled with Leo’s own. Leo, on the other hand, stares down at the man in a trance.

He doesn’t know how the magnetic pull materialized. He doesn’t know where the red string of fate starts or where it ends.

Leo does know that he’ll put his life on the line for him, though.

He wants to know more about what led Sangwon to him the night prior.

His hunger for knowledge on all things Sangwon is insatiable, his canines throbbing with the desire to claim.



And there, in the dead of night, Lee Leo realizes he’s imprinted on Lee Sangwon.