Archive of Our Own

This had never been part of the plan.

Jeongguk pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a trembling finger, eyes still bleary from sleep, trying to adjust to the sight before him. His mind, exhausted from days without rest, struggling to make sense of the thing currently being contained in his own lab.

He can hear Hoseok and Yoongi’s frantic speech surrounding him, their words of disbelief as documents—probably important ones—are carelessly strewn about the room with their frenzied movements. The two of them pacing while Jeongguk remains stiff in place.

Their persistent phone calls at four in the morning had startled him awake, and their refusal to explain the emergency they were shouting about through the speaker had left Jeongguk bearing a deep-set worry the entire drive there.

With the sun beginning to rise by the time he’d pulled into the building’s parking lot, Jeongguk had embraced the calming air as he’d stepped out of his car. Leisurely strolling towards the gate which blocked them off from the outside world, halting along the way to greet the security guard who stood on patrol. A quick five minute conversation to thank him again for the meal he’d shared with Jeongguk earlier that week when he’d spent yet another night working late—also sending regards to the man’s wife for preparing it.

Jeongguk had swiped his keycard on the pad near the elevator to access it as he did every single day. Rarely was there a break in his routine. Not mundane enough to become boring, but not chaotic, either. The only notable difference this time, he’d realized with a drawn out yawn, had been the hour. Nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary yet, and Jeongguk almost thought he’d walk in to find his coworkers blowing a manageable situation out of proportion.

But the lack of mayhem was short-lived. Because nothing could’ve prepared him for what Hoseok and Yoongi had been referring to. None of them trained nor ready to face something of this severity.

For lack of a better term, it was a fucking shit show.

And, now, the coherency of Yoongi attempting to provide some sort of rationalization for what they’re witnessing fades into a distant echo. A fired shot that misses its target. Everything blending together to form a blur of white lab coats and even whiter sheets of paper.

Jeongguk’s only focus is the creature standing in the other room, the one he hasn’t been able to stop staring at since Hoseok made its presence known with hysterical gestures. The one that stares right back. They’re separated by a single pane of glass, an observatory window they normally use to monitor all their other subjects in similar enclosures, and yet Jeongguk feels like he’s staring into a mirror this time.

At first glance, the creature is a clear reflection of him, though it’s like the image has been somewhat warped. Distorted to present a different, altered version of himself. Human but also not, all at once. Its face is similar to his, recognizable. Reminds Jeongguk of how he used to look during his early college years—soft and without the aging lines of stress he’s picked up at only twenty-eight.

Its features, however, deviate from anything Jeongguk has ever been exposed to. A human body morphed with the physical characteristics of an animal. No… a canine?

A beastly figure that fails to find its place in one domain.

From a young age, Jeongguk’s fascination with living organisms knew no bounds. Whether it dealt with studying the wide range of anatomy between species or analyzing behavioural patterns among groups of them, he took an interest in every aspect. Countless books read and documentaries watched by the time he’d entered high school. Giving up time with friends had never been a big sacrifice if it meant developing his childish intrigue into something he could actually build a career with.

And what Jeongguk appreciated the most was the one thing all species—no matter the conditions—had in common: their will to survive.

As a biologist, he often ventured into the unknown with his studies. Contemplated the what ifs on a more than regular basis. It was his job. More importantly, it was his passion. 

He was hired to research the possibility of using mammal clones for sustainable breeding, to develop a viable solution for the rapidly increasing shortages of livestock and wildlife in the country.

But he sure as hell isn’t being paid to handle whatever the fuck this is.

Jeongguk makes a move to step closer without thinking, some form of inner intuition prompting him to continue, but ultimately decides against it when the creature seems to notice the slight twitch in his leg and responds accordingly. Shifting so that it’s pressed directly against the glass, head tilting to its left as if to gauge any other sudden movement he might make.

And Jeongguk’s urge to run leaves him wondering what instincts the beast possesses, how much of a threat it actually poses. He questions why its attention has remained fixated on him this entire time, only acknowledging his body language when Hoseok and Yoongi haven’t paused to take a breath from their back and forth across the lab.

If it had wanted to attack Jeongguk, he’s assuming it would’ve done so by now. With its sheer size and stature—only a few inches taller than Jeongguk but a lot broader—there’s no doubt it would face little resistance breaking through the window and pouncing directly at him.

Or maybe the creature is as scared of them as they are of it. Though, its expression suggests otherwise.

Under its gaze, Jeongguk feels like there’s been a visible shift. A power imbalance. Like he’s become the specimen beneath the microscope, trapped in a petri dish for someone else to scrutinize. Knees locked in place. Head still foggy, especially with hundreds of questions running through it. The main one being how they were able to screw up the experiment badly enough for it to reach this level of disastrous. When previous trials had failed before but none had produced anything remotely akin to this result.

Because, instead of deformities, the creature appears to have enhancements. Its exterior demonstrates a harmony between human and animal, between flesh and fur.

A hybrid of sorts.

The only canine sample Jeongguk’s team had been housing in the lab was that of a grey wolf. Once, they were native to the region, plentiful in numbers with nearly hundreds of thriving packs. Long before the government permitted citizens to hunt them at will due to their overpopulation. Because of human interference, they’ve been endangered for decades. Now, the people want to incorporate them back into the land.

The irony of trying to bring back what you yourself have already destroyed isn’t lost on them.

It’s one of the species they spent weeks trying to clone with no success a year ago and had decided to give up on until recently. It’s also Jeongguk’s favourite species—wolves in general. Still, he didn’t like to show his outward disappointment at the lack of results.

But, despite all odds, traces of the wolf, wild yet beautiful, are overly apparent in the creature. Greyish ears peaked above the mess of shaggy, tawny brown hair—which also contains faint streaks of muted gold—occasionally flicking from side to side, presumably tuning in on even the smallest of sounds.

A notably long, fluffed up tail gently swings behind its frame. Overlaid with a mix of the three colours found on its head, except the underside has a few patches of white.

Jeongguk tries to ignore the fact that it stands there completely naked, toned muscles on its bare chest and abdomen outlined by fluorescent lights inside the lab. He’s grateful that the bottom of the window’s ledge cuts off right where its pelvis starts, concrete wall obscuring the rest. Isn’t sure if that’s better for its sake or his own.

Before his mind can wander where it shouldn’t, Jeongguk sees Yoongi approaching the glass with a snare pole from his periphery. The creature does, too, and instantly lets out a low rumbling growl from deep within its throat. Vaguely baring its teeth to reveal pointed—albeit short—canines. Jeongguk almost forgets about the problem at hand, busy peering at its not so menacing demeanor, until Yoongi’s speaking with a wavering tone.

“This is why we had to get you over here.” He cautiously steps back when the creature gets louder. “Besides the obvious fact that he fucking looks like you , he won’t let us anywhere near him. And we’ve run out of options.”

Hoseok aimlessly waves a couple of crumpled up notes in the air, breathing heavily but replying in a whisper. “We don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“What we can’t do is panic,” Jeongguk notes, attempting to calm his own racing heart. “Letting him— it sense our fear will only make things worse.”

Yoongi lowers his arms in defeat, scoffing. “Well, no shit. But it’s already bad enough that this week’s objective was to clone piglets, not that . And I’m not gonna sit here and wait around ‘til he gets hungry and decides to break free, so what are you suggesting?”

An idea occurs to Jeongguk, and he finally shuffles forward to confirm his suspicions. Instead of giving off signals of intimidation like it did with Yoongi, the creature’s stance noticeably eases. Like it’s an invitation rather than a warning.

“I’ll do it.” Jeongguk nods, holding out his hand to motion for Yoongi to pass over the snare pole, not breaking eye contact with the hybrid in case its attitude were to abruptly change. When Yoongi hesitates, momentarily glancing at Hoseok for his input, Jeongguk impatiently walks up to seize it from his grasp. A headache is starting to set in and he just wants to get this thing under control.

He’ll worry about the fallout afterwards, but he isn’t about to let an unexplained anomaly ruin an entire week’s worth of work they have yet to complete.

In an instant, the creature’s tail begins to wag furiously. Darting left and right, even thumping against the window the closer Jeongguk gets to it. As if it’s excited . The first sign of emotion it has conveyed aside from aggression. The three of them freeze, Jeongguk and Yoongi confused by its actions while Hoseok simply maintains an expression of concern doused with fear.

“Are you sure about this?” Yoongi grabs his arm as Jeongguk inches towards the door of the room.

“Whether I like it or not, I obviously had some fault in creating it, didn’t I? It was my turn to input the final solution into the machine last night. It’s my responsibility.” There’s resolution in his voice, but Jeongguk’s clammy hands find the sides of his lab coat when the pole slips in his hold.

Hoseok’s evidently having trouble keeping his nerves in check—or, at least, pretending to—but he still offers assistance. “Just… be careful, Gguk. If anything happens, Yoongi and I will be right behind you.”

“Hobi, you say that as if you haven’t been looking at the nearest exit ready to fucking book it.” Jeongguk chuckles once at Yoongi’s accusation but doesn’t miss the way he interlocks his fingers with Hoseok’s. Protective.

“I’d never leave you two alone to deal with this,” he retorts, then mumbles, “no matter how much I desperately want to, and trust me, I really do right now.”

Jeongguk strides to the side where the door is located, can’t see the creature from the window anymore from this angle but still hears it along with the faint whirring of the machine. Thinks it’s scratching at the door like a dog does when it wants to get inside a room. Or, in this case, out.

Holding his breath, grip tightening around the pole, Jeongguk reaches for the handle.

It gives easily, be it from the pressure he exerted onto it or from his own boldness coming out a little harsher than he’d expected. All Jeongguk knows with certainty is that, as soon as the door is unlocked, he’s met with solid weight barreling into him tenfold, both bodies colliding with a harsh thud against the opposite wall.

Unable to grasp his footing, much less gather himself accordingly, the snare pole slips from his grasp and falls beside his feet with a loud clanking noise. Not that he can get a look at it or anywhere else, given the fact that he’s all but smothered under the hybrid’s hold.

Its extra height, though minimal, is enough to make it feel like the creature towers over Jeongguk, standing at approximately six feet if Jeongguk had to give a rough estimate. And yet, it seems to make itself smaller in order to accommodate its body against Jeongguk’s, nuzzling under his chin excitedly.

The defensive stance Jeongguk equipped himself with to burst into the room lessens once he comprehends that the hybrid poses no harm. For now, at least. Not letting his guard down entirely. If he’d thought it compared to an overeager puppy from afar just seconds prior, now Jeongguk has no doubt about it. The hybrid is almost too close for comfort, no sense of personal space, crowding him and wagging its tail constantly.

The hybrid lets out a series of whines, lightly pitched, as Jeongguk attempts to unfold himself from its affections, only settling the tremors from its body when Jeongguk relaxes and lays a tentative hand against its shoulder. Firm muscle meets his fingertips, as does the hybrid's bare skin which feels as human as it looks, and Jeongguk makes a mental note to jot these things down for future reference.

If he makes it out of this situation in one piece, that is. 

Across the room, Hoseok stares wide-eyed and speechless, gripping onto the edge of his desk with precaution, whereas Yoongi’s surprise melts into something resembling humor. His lips curve at the edges, and slowly, despite the lingering uncertainty regarding this hybrid and how it reacts to its new surroundings and environment, he steps forward.

Not enough to alert the hybrid and rekindle its rage, but enough for it to sense Yoongi and begin to growl once more, its body stiffening instantly. Jeongguk flinches, swallowing hard as he watches the way the beast’s expression shifts into one of warning, uttering a low snarl as it tosses Yoongi a look over its shoulder; the message clear:

Don’t come any closer .

“I think I figured out what the problem here is. What his problem is,” Yoongi comments, hastily retreating his steps so that he maintains a safe distance from the hybrid that refuses to suppress its hostility towards him and Hoseok. “Wolves are territorial creatures by nature, and it looks like this one has it heavily encoded in his genes. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s just staked his claim on you, Gguk.”

“That’s impossible.”

Hoseok, despite the current circumstance, snorts. Hidden behind Yoongi’s body, one would assume he’s smaller than he actually is with the way fear makes him behave. “A hybrid's existence is technically impossible, too, yet here we are. Not only is he half-human, half-wolf, but his human traits are entirely based on you.”

Yoongi hums in agreement, “Besides, science derives from making the impossible, possible. Isn’t that what you always say at meetings?”

Jeongguk sends both his colleagues a glare, unable to retaliate because, in this case, they’re right in every respect. But, from a scientific perspective, he just can’t seem to wrap his mind around the idea, to justify its existence. His life’s studies at war with the creature in front of him. Despite its clear demonstrations of wolf-like tendencies, none of it spells natural.

Interbreeds and hybridization are common in certain plants and animal species. But a human clone’s DNA being crossed with a pure canine sample is unheard of. Goes against every biological law.

The creature in question has yet to communicate with anything other than sounds. Jeongguk’s not even sure if it understands what they’re saying because it only settles down when, once again, Jeongguk tentatively touches its shoulder, and then experimentally slides his hand up to curl around its neck. It sparks an immediate shift in its attitude and body language, forgetting all about Yoongi and relaxing into him, impossibly fitting such a large figure against Jeongguk’s as though their difference in size didn’t matter.

Jeongguk gives the hybrid’s nape a slight squeeze to assess its response, watching the way its ears perk up in tandem with the never ceasing wag of its tail. Large, alert eyes find his own, the very same ones Jeongguk sees every time he looks in the mirror, but these are a darker grey. Dilated. Drawing Jeongguk in and holding him under its reign. The hybrid let’s out a series of short, pleased whines when reacting to his touch, as if to bring truth to Yoongi’s previously stated theory about a claim.

The creature has some kind of instinctual attraction towards him, perhaps sensing their similarities at a more base level. How Jeongguk feels about that is still unclear. On one hand, as a scientist, he can’t help but feel vindicated with the outcomes this experiment will bring about for his research by having gone awry. And as a result, for science as a whole. On the other hand—as he’d told Yoongi—he feels innately responsible for this new being that’s come into the world unexpectedly due to a flaw he committed.

Feels protective in a way, hesitant in another.

Without realizing it, Jeongguk finds himself momentarily lulled by the hybrid’s proximity. Like he’s being welcomed into its territory instead of the other way around. Chasing the sensation away, he manages to peel his body from the creature’s just a bit so he can remove his lab coat, using it to conceal its naked figure. The last thing Jeongguk wants is to have it exposed unnecessarily. Even if the coat itself doesn’t cover much of its skin—seeing as how there’s just a lot to shield in the first place—it does the job well enough.

“You know what this means, right?” Jeongguk doesn’t pay much mind to Hoseok’s concerned tone from the doorway, busy fixing the coat around the creature’s shoulders to make sure it doesn’t slip from where it’s poorly perched. He contemplates running a hand through its hair, wonders if it’s as soft—maybe softer—than his own, but something about the act seems too intimate for how little interaction Jeongguk has had with the hybrid.

“That you should thank me for handling the situation and not letting it loose on you two?” Jeongguk jokes, still conflicted, but mostly at ease after regaining control and preventing a bigger catastrophe from happening. He knows how it must look, standing there soothing a half-wolf cloned version of himself. So wildly unconventional, and not at all what he’d expected to be doing during what was supposed to be another grueling and stressful day at the lab.

But he takes it in stride.

It’s a diversion from his original plans, one which he’d have to learn how to adjust to. In a way, however, it serves as a learning experience. A new experiment to challenge his abilities and expertise. Maybe not something to be entirely proud of or to add to his portfolio just yet, especially when he has no idea how the hell he’s going to explain this to his superiors, but he’s used to confronting problems that normal men outside of their professions can’t.

Even if by accident, he’s created a new form of life. Deserving of at least some merit, right?

And yet, all those years of studying, internships and preparation don’t measure up to hearing Yoongi say what he does next. And Jeongguk blinks himself out of his dazed stupor to find that, not only is the way he’s clinging onto his hybrid completely inappropriate, but that he didn’t understand what’s been implied.

“Come again?”

Yoongi’s reply is a touch too knowing, too entertained. “I said that since the hybrid has clearly taken a liking to you and only you, it seems fitting that you be the one to carry out phase two. Observation,” he reiterates smoothly, a hand held out for a chart that Hoseok passes him without pause, which he takes and sorts through quickly. “What that means, boss, is that you’re both gonna be spending a lot more time together from here on out.”

Jeongguk can’t be sure but he swears the creature in his arms makes a small noise of appreciation.

♡ ♡ ♡

Phase 2: Observation

Week 1: Subject remains uncooperative.

For over seven days, Experiment 197—as Jeongguk aptly named it—had proven to be more than difficult. The hybrid’s unwillingness to comply with mandatory tests and analyses was met with varying degrees of frustration. Hoseok and Yoongi had tried to show it understanding, leaving the creature unbothered for hours at a time after it would stubbornly refuse to allow anyone inside its chambers, or anywhere near it, for that matter. Jeongguk, however, was quickly losing his patience.

The original agreement between the three of them was to keep the hybrid isolated from the rest of their team, and a secret from their sponsors. Then again, disclosing sensitive information about this experiment would be impossible, seeing as how they barely had any to begin with. Still, Jeongguk would often experience this wave of dread when considering what could happen if anyone were to discover the hybrid before they were prepared to unveil its existence. 

Because, despite everything, his only objective was to gather enough evidence so they could validate and advocate for its survival. To prove the creature had value.

The thought of his hybrid being harmed always brought Jeongguk this inexplicable sense of concern.

Yoongi and Hoseok attempted several different methods in order to bring the hybrid close enough to at least draw a blood sample, but to no avail. And they all knew the reason why, though it was never said out loud as to not annoy Jeongguk any further.

The hybrid still hadn’t spoken, nor made any indication to show that it knew how, but the silver lining was that it seemed like all its senses were functioning and acute. Always made sure to let out a series of grunts and growls whenever Yoongi—the more stubborn one between him and Hoseok—tried to make contact. Probably hearing or smelling him before he even had the chance to reach the steel door.

The decision to move it into a bigger enclosure with an ample amount of space had been Jeongguk’s, but their execution of it was less than ideal. After easily letting itself be lured out of its former room by Jeongguk’s voice, the commotion of other people entering the lab for early shift had startled the hybrid, and Yoongi still wore the scratch marks to show for it.

For what it was worth, the creature looked more comfortable in its new room, despite its constant restlessness. A more quiet setting in the far off, restricted area that was located below their lab and offices.

Sometimes, it lounged on the long stretch of grass they had placed inside as it watched images flash across the television—Hoseok insisted that even though it might not fully comprehend what it’s perceiving, it was still important to provide it with visual stimuli—and other times it would fiddle around with random objects. Curious to know their purpose.

The first night, Jeongguk stayed. Too paranoid to leave it alone and risk another mishap. Had unenthusiastically pulled up a chair from one of the barely dusted off desks and positioned it right in front of the window, drifting off to sleep with minimal effort despite how uncomfortable he was.

But when he’d woken up, he found that the small mattress and blanket they’d brought over from the break room and into the enclosure had been torn up. Pieces of stuffing and shreds of fabric used as makeshift bedding on the other corner of the lot.

The creature had simply peered at Jeongguk from its place in the middle of it.

And on day three, almost halfway throughout the week, they figured out why phase one—stage of creation—had happened so suddenly and without their knowledge.

“Christ, Gguk, aren’t you always the first person to enforce protocol? I’ve seen you get on everyone’s ass at least once when they don’t wear all the proper gear before heading into the chem lab.” Yoongi looks serious, reprimanding, but Jeongguk knows he finds his mistake amusing.

“Don’t remind me,” Jeongguk sighs, a hand rubbing the back of his neck in order to ease the built-up tension there. No amount of sleep is able to fix what’s become a recurring problem.

When Hoseok had come back with the computer-generated results, there was a clear indication on the graphs which outlined exactly when the new sample of DNA had been incorporated. And, as the data stared him in the face, there’d been no denying it. Jeongguk was a fucking idiot. He, of all people, was meticulous and strict. Heavily believed in guarding every set of trials to ensure that no external factor would compromise their potential for success. Especially when so much was riding on these experiments that they were responsible for.

But then it’d hit him. The constant time spent at the lab where the end goal seemed impossible to attain and Jeongguk had stayed after hours as usual. Nights spent hunched over a desk, asleep over their files. They weren’t even supposed to be working with the canines samples when this occurred, those had been reserved for the following month.

It was more of a shock that something like this hadn’t transpired sooner.

Hoseok had been kinder about it, though, so lenient that Jeongguk didn’t think he deserved him as a friend or colleague. Certainly not his consideration.

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself, yeah? Unlike our little one in there, you’re still one hundred percent human. And we make mistakes.” Hoseok offers him a smile of encouragement.

“Besides, thanks to this—” he holds up multiple papers in his hands towards the light—“we can now conclude that, genetically speaking, he’s more wolf than human. And, if you ask me, that could be why he’s not responding well to verbal commands. Wolves, like most wild animals, are unpredictable by nature. But he’s probably still scared , all locked up and alone.”

Yoongi nods and adds, “It would also explain why he seems so agitated. Wolves and humans are both social creatures. And instinct isn’t really something he can fight against when he doesn’t know any better.”

Jeongguk remembered how Yoongi had commented on more than one occasion that they’d observed it inside its chambers, stalking in circles. A restless tension to its body, ear flattened to its head. He, too, could tell something was off when the hybrid would pause to glance over its shoulder every so often when Jeongguk was near, as if making sure it was being watched before it resumed its pacing.

At first, Jeongguk had falsely assumed that his hybrid’s only human qualities were those of its physical appearance, but it didn’t take a scientist to determine that the creature also craved connection. 

Except, it wasn’t just a bond with anyone that it seeked. Specifically, it wanted Jeongguk—its creator. However, his reluctance to form an attachment with the subject—because that’s all it was meant to be, an experiment—was harming the creature more than it was benefiting himself.

And, for a while, Jeongguk surmised that the hybrid would get used to his lack of affection, maybe focus its attention elsewhere.

But, even as an expert, it was surprising how wrong Jeongguk could sometimes be about his assumptions.

Phase 2: Observation

Week 2: Subject motivated by food.

In addition to the fact that Experiment 197’s evaluation process had been progressing slowly, Jeongguk also faced the issue concerning its lack of appetite. He’d noticed it after coming back from running a few medical diagnostics on a herd of sheep that weren’t responding the way he’d anticipated. Saw Hoseok carrying back an almost full tray of food to the dispenser in the facility’s staff kitchen a few floors above.

“Enjoying a light snack, hyung?” There were other people finishing their lunch so Jeongguk knew they had to be discrete. The two of them stood there, engaged in pointless conversation and feigning laughter for a few minutes until everyone had cleared out.

Hoseok’s expression suddenly turned serious once the last employee was gone. “He won’t eat it.”

“Why not?” Jeongguk tells himself that the worry in his voice is because the hybrid is becoming more trouble than it’s worth.

“I’d ask him if he’d answer,” Hoseok sighs. “Every time me or Yoongi give him something different through the food slot, it’s either shoved right back or he takes a couple bites and then decides he hates it. We’re lucky he doesn’t throw it across the floor anymore.”

The bread bun looks like it’s been mauled, half of it missing. Crumbs everywhere. The soup is only slightly spilled over its bowl but Jeongguk can see blades of grass swimming inside the broth. Part of him can’t blame the hybrid, he’s not sure he’d willingly eat this either.

“We aren’t even sure what its digestive system is like. It might have the tastes of a regular grey wolf but, if we follow that diet, its stomach might not be able to resist that. I’m dealing with plenty of sick animals right now, I don’t need another.” Jeongguk absentmindedly grabs a granola bar from the box and starts nibbling on it. The chocolate chip ones are his favourite, but peanuts will do for now.

As he disposes of the tray’s remnants down the sink drain, Hoseok speaks so low it can barely be heard over the running water. “He’ll get weak no matter what if he doesn’t feed on something . He’s been living off mostly water. We can’t just let him starve, Ggukie. I don’t want that and I know you don’t.”

Jeongguk swallows the bite of food in his mouth with an audible gulp. He hasn’t gotten the opportunity to have a proper meal today but neither has the hybrid. There’s no question as to which is priority.

“I’ll be right back,” he mumbles, shoving the half eaten granola bar into his lab coat pocket, wrapper making noise as he moves towards the door. It’s probably unsanitary considering how many chemicals he works with on a daily basis, but he’ll make sure to retrieve it afterwards, anyway.

Hoseok sputters, turning the faucet off. “Wait, where are you going?”

“Off to find food for the beast,” he remarks dramatically. Not anxious that someone will overhear him this time because they’ll just think he’s referring to himself. Maybe he’s notorious for eating all the snacks in the kitchen, but so what? He practically lives there.

Quirking his lips, Hoseok fondly shakes his head before placing the tray on the drying rack. Shoulders slumping in relief at the announcement. A look of pride taking over his features.

And he’s already bent down looking into the refrigerator by the time Jeongguk reciprocates with a soft smile of his own.

As predicted, it had only taken a slab of raw meat for the hybrid to show interest.

When Jeongguk had made his way down to the sectioned off area, it was almost disheartening to acknowledge how despondent the creature was. Hardly flinching when it saw the scientist enter. But that was most likely because it was peeved with him. Upset that Jeongguk hadn’t acquiesced to any of its wants.

Until now.

The instant it saw—or rather, smelled—the freshly cut male deer he’d smuggled in inside of a cooler, its tail instantly began wagging. Eyes wide with hunger as it repeatedly licked its lips. One of the first instances it had shown genuine excitement since their encounter on day one, especially when it was Jeongguk who slid the plate of meat towards it. A brief sniff and an elated whine later, it was digging in.

The act was nothing short of messy, but there was also an undeniable note of elegance to it, and Jeongguk watched in awe.

He admired the way it unceremoniously tore a leg apart with its hands and then with its teeth. Its canines pierced flesh as they attacked the already dead hunt. Smears of blood had coated nearly every visible part of its skin, even wetting strands of its lengthy hair, along with the oversized medical scrubs they’d dressed it in, which allowed the creature to move freely.

The brutal crunch of bones echoed within the room, accompanied by faint snarls when the hybrid couldn’t fit enough muscle in its mouth at once. Gluttonous. Jeongguk had suspected that it only chewed a handful of times before devouring the piece practically whole.

“Looks like he loves food as much as you do, Jeongguk,” Yoongi teased, “You’re still in the room and the only thing he’s focused on is his meal. If he wasn’t half wolf, I would’ve sworn he got that entirely from you.” Hoseok giggled, Jeongguk simply rolled his eyes.

When the creature finished, it had devotedly licked the plate clean and eaten any bits it might’ve missed before pawing at the glass to signal that it wanted more. It was surrounded by what resembled a crime scene, specks of blood everywhere, an image rivaled by its tail which was happily still in motion as it moved back and forth.

In the end, it had taken about four pounds of the entire deer for the hybrid to finally appear somewhat sated. At one point, Jeongguk had gotten the ingenious idea to quickly heat another slab of meat over a Bunsen burner, rare but cooked enough to not be rejected. He’d wanted to test if it could stomach food that had been prepared, as long as it was wild game.

A few hours of digestion later, the hybrid proved that it could.

Jeongguk quickly became aware that buying large amounts of high quality meat directly from the butcher was expensive, and would no doubt make a dent in his wallet. All their spending was usually done with the use of a company card where their funding money funneled through to, but since they were trying to avoid raising suspicion, it now meant they were forced to resort to other alternatives.

And yet, Jeongguk didn’t mind, not when the hybrid’s behaviour started to show signs of improvement. When it became more agreeable with every slice of meat Yoongi and Hoseok slinged its way, especially if it was given as a reward outside of mealtime. It hadn’t lost its stubbornness completely, according to Hoseok.

“He’s clever, you know? I think he’s picked up on how I’m more tolerant with him so he’ll just scam me out of treats. I can tell because he does exactly what I say after I’ve given it to him.”

Yoongi laughs, “Admit it, you have a soft spot for the pup because he looks like Jeongguk.”

“Absolutely,” Hoseok agrees easily. He nudges Jeongguk who’s pretending to only be half paying attention, looking down at some reports he already went over this morning. “You should come see him, he misses you.”

He pauses, and Yoongi tries to backtrack. “Plus, his blood work should be coming back next week so you can analyze it yourself without us having to give you the details elsewhere. Too risky.”

“Maybe,” Jeongguk hums, hopefully hiding his intrigue—more accurately, his enthusiasm—as well as he thinks he is. Because it’s getting complicated to dismiss this burning itch that’s pushing him to visit his hybrid. And Jeongguk has this odd inkling telling him that, this time, it’ll be a lot harder to leave again.

Phase 2: Observation

Week 3: Subject no longer nocturnal.

It had taken close to a month for Experiment 197’s sleeping pattern to properly match up with that of a human’s, seeing itself forced to adapt when it realized that food only came during the day. Jeongguk would sometimes monitor the hybrid through the surveillance cameras he’d installed early on. When everyone else had gone home for the day and he was left alone in his office without interruption, able to access his desktop without having to look over his shoulder, he’d review the footage. Noted how the number of naps the creature took before noon had begun to lessen as time went on. Instead, it became more active during the mornings, finding ways to entertain itself that didn’t involve destroying everything within its enclosure.

Relief had set in when its habit of violence began to subside, no longer putting up a fight whenever Yoongi or Hoseok made their way inside to take its measurements or perform physical exams because they weren’t considered a threat anymore.

It would repeatedly fail to show any indication that it wanted to interact beyond that, but it was a promising start.

Jeongguk hadn’t told either of his colleagues about the cameras because they were only meant to serve as a precautionary measure whenever they weren’t around, and Jeongguk had never even intended on using them so frequently.

But maybe watching how the creature curled in on itself when it slept, peaceful yet so vulnerable, had made Jeongguk reconsider. Grainy footage which captured it at its most gentle state, atop its pile of shredded bedding that provided the most warmth and comfort. Yet, strangely enough, it usually slept off to one side of the cot, as if leaving room for something—or someone— else. And Jeongguk sometimes let himself get distracted by the sight, partly jealous that the hybrid could essentially rest whenever it wanted, but also amazed that on occasions such as this one it looked more human than ever. Despite its constant displays of dominant wolf-like tendencies and behaviours.

Jeongguk had wondered if it snored the way he does, gruff but not too loud. But he was too hesitant to verify for himself in fear that he would disrupt the sleeping hybrid, so he always just imagined that it did.

Those nights, Jeongguk’s dreams would involve a heated body next to his, holding him close. Protective. A faceless figure that he’d struggle to embrace but also let go of once it began to fade away.

Simple dreams he’d quickly forget about soon after his alarm sounded and he was forced to start his day.

The hybrid’s blood results had come as good news that Friday evening, an alleviator to all the pressure Jeongguk was under. Following a series of trials and errors, his team had successfully been able to clone a strong male boar. Or so they’d thought—too eager to label it a victory since their latest experiment was a month old calf that lacked mobility, and any attempt at rehabilitating it had proven ineffective. At creation, the swine’s vitals were satisfactory, and it gave them hope that they’d get somewhere with this one. Hours into observation, however, the specimen spontaneously collapsed, weakly squealing before it eventually stopped breathing altogether. Later, it was revealed that its cause of death had been internal hemorrhaging, but none of them had any idea as to why it occurred.

So Jeongguk was more than pleased when he got further insight regarding the hybrid’s biological makeup.

“He’s completely healthy,” Yoongi mutters, incredulous as he takes a seat. “Fucking extraordinary. Wolfie’s in better shape than me.”

Jeongguk’s scanning through the document when he scoffs at him, readjusting his glasses but not looking away from the paper. “Well… body wise, there’s no comparison, hyung. But I bet your kidneys are really envious right now.” All substance levels in the creature’s blood fall within normal range—minus the white blood cell count, which seems to be a higher number in relation to a matured human, implying that its immune system has an even greater defense mechanism than average.

“Fuck off, mojitos barely have any alcohol content and I only drink them on special occasions, or after a long day of dealing with you .” Yoongi’s most likely frowning with the way he grumbles because Hoseok giggles in return and gives him a gentle we know, babe as reassurance.

Jeongguk, however, ignores him. “Hm, that’s different.”

“What’s wrong?” Hoseok leans against the armrest of Yoongi’s chair.

“It’s just unusual how it reached physical maturity the first week. Possibly even earlier, based on the height and weight values you two have been recording.” In general, their experiments—if they survived past the critical period of seventy two hours—grew gradually, in increments. Similar to a naturally-bred animal.

Then again, there was nothing inherently normal or natural about the hybrid to begin with.

“And yet his cognitive development appears to be lagging behind. Unless he’s been aware of everything we’ve said and done but just hasn’t let on to purposely fuck with us.” Yoongi smirks. “We can’t be certain of how much brain activity there is without a proper scan, anyway.”

“His intelligence levels may be unknown for now but he’s got an intense personality, that’s for sure. A little grumpy in an endearing sort of way,” Hoseok chimes in, pressing the blunt end of his pen against his swinging leg. It makes a clicking noise each time and Jeongguk has half a mind to throw it across the room.

Yoongi straightens up, toying with the edge of his lab coat. He tugs at one of the loose threads that has unsewn from the hem. “At least he’s not uptight, unlike someone ,” he emphasizes. “But you’re the best shot we have at getting him to talk.”

When Jeongguk peers up, Yoongi’s staring directly at him. And he wishes fidgeting wasn’t so contagious, one of his hands wringing tightly at the other. Knuckles rubbing hard against skin.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Ggukie,” Hoseok says softly, a bit exasperated, “you can’t stay away forever.”

Yet, that’s exactly what Jeongguk was afraid of.

He falls asleep to the image of the hybrid that night, both of them in the same building but with enough distance between them that they were virtually alone. The last thing he saw before his eyes fluttered shut was a pixelated figure on a dimly lit screen. And if Jeongguk dreamt about a tawny head of hair buried into the nape of his neck, he pretended to have no recollection of it the very next day.

♡ ♡ ♡

The hands on the clock tick by slowly, but time feels like it’s moving impossibly fast.

Jeongguk’s session with the hybrid is scheduled to take place an hour from now, only their third face-to-face interaction since this all started. Though, he’s hoping it goes better than the first. Nervous that it’ll try clinging to him again and he won’t know what to do.

Or worse, he’ll accept the embrace once more instead of rejecting it.

Seeing as how their team only works until noon on Sundays, Yoongi had suggested doing the meeting right after the hybrid had been properly fed—this week, they were giving it a taste for elk to expand its palate—so that it would have a sufficient amount of energy to remain alert and attentive for the duration of their session.

In an effort to curb his growing uneasiness, however, Jeongguk busies himself by writing up a few pending progress reports, ones he would eventually need to fax and own up to. He’s used to logging all of their failed experiments at this point, refuses to let himself dwell on them like he once did, but that doesn’t mean it bothers him any less. Because if the people in charge of overlooking this project deem their research unprofitable in the long-run, their funding would immediately be cut. Maybe pulled completely. And none of them can afford another loss after so many resources have been invested.

But, at least it’s a stressor he’s familiar with. A dull headache he knows the reason for.

The glare from his computer screen hurts his eyes, causes him to squint despite already having turned the brightness all the way down, and he keeps having to take a break from typing every couple of minutes. Almost hypnotized by the blinking text cursor. He still remembers where he left off in the document each time, but they’re short pauses during which Jeongguk thinks about nothing at all, limited moments of time to himself that he doesn’t get quite often. This sense of peacefulness that almost becomes eerie with how foreign it is to him.

In the silence of his office, he sits surrounded by a reality he wants to ignore for just a little while longer.

But, sooner rather than later, he’s forced to face it again. And it comes in the form of a knock.

Hoseok apprehensively peeks his head through the office door, initially only opening it slightly, as if worried that he’s intruding or being an inconvenience. “I was getting everything you asked for but Yoongi just texted and said they’re ready.” When Jeongguk doesn’t respond, he pushes the rest of his way through with the force of his hip, hands full of various objects and notepads.

Jeongguk swiftly reaches out to catch a rubix cube that nearly slips from Hoseok’s grasp as he approaches, toying with a few coloured rows before setting it on the desk. “Really?”

“What? You said to find stuff that was mentally stimulating,” Hoseok reproaches, shifting his weight between both feet. “But now that you mention it, I think I lose brain cells trying to solve that damn thing.”

Jeongguk sighs, rubbing at his temple, “I meant books with pictures and diagrams, maybe a word chart. Something simple. Not all this ,” he gestures towards the clutter in Hoseok’s arms. “The main objective is to see if it can even verbally communicate, you’re treating it like a genius.”

“Lucky for us, I brought those, too, see?” Hoseok lifts a shoulder, pointing it somewhere neither of them can discern. “And I’m sure he is a genius, in his own way. You’ll regret not giving him enough credit when he outsmarts you.”

He says it like it’s a matter of fact, like he knows something no one else does. Like he’s gained some kind of personal understanding about the hybrid.

With an irritated sneer, Jeongguk stands from his desk chair, joints cracking in protest at his body’s stiffness—he really needs to look into taking a warm bath this weekend, though he’s sure he either misplaced or ran out of the lavender soap he likes. Rolling out the kinks in his neck as he wordlessly walks out of the room and towards the secluded floor of the facility, Jeongguk’s elbow accidentally bumps against Hoseok’s and a puzzle box comes tumbling down from where it’s pressed to his chest, striking the ground with a resounding clap.

He briefly glances behind him without changing pace, noticing how Hoseok eyes him expectantly but quickly begins pleading when he realizes that Jeongguk doesn’t plan to help. “No, wait, Ggukie, come back. Hyung was just kidding.”

Jeongguk only giggles, spitefully listening to Hoseok struggle as he presumably bends down to retrieve the box on his own. “Sorry, can’t keep Yoongi waiting.”

And the last thing he hears before entering the restricted area is a panicked yell followed by another loud crash.

This area of the building has always felt different. But now it seems more welcoming.

It’s been abandoned for years following renovations that had been done, preceding Jeongguk’s arrival at the company, but it’s like a certain kind of energy has been restored. 

It possibly has a lot to do with the hybrid who’s currently jogging in circles, visibly excited to be doing exercise. Bare feet hitting freshly cut grass. There are a few patches of sweat on its pink medical scrubs—the most recent addition to its wardrobe since it had to be changed after every meal—that catch Jeongguk’s attention. Droplets which gather at the base of its neck, leaving traces of sleek wetness in its path, and then trail further down the collar of its baggy shirt.

He forces himself to look away because the hybrid stops running when Yoongi calls out, body sagging the instant it spots Jeongguk. Turns so that its back faces the window now, moving to the other side to grab a bottle of water. Rather than drink it, the hybrid hastily unfastens the cap with its mouth and pours the liquid over its head to cool down, careful that none of it gets into its ears. Shaking off the excess with so much vigor that a bit of water splashes against the glass. Jeongguk rolls his eyes at the show, knows it’s acting out on purpose because one of their tests previously showed that it can regulate its core body temperature better than both wolves and humans, able to reduce the heat generated in its system without actually needing to come in contact with anything cold.

“Finally,” Yoongi exclaims, raising his clipboard of notes, “what took you so long? Where’s Hoseok?”

Jeongguk laughs at the last question but it comes out disingenuous because his focus is back on the hybrid and its aimless search for something else to do. “He… got caught up, I think. I’m sure he’s not far behind.”

As if on cue, Hoseok bustles into the room—the glare he shoots towards Jeongguk is unlike the imploring look he’d given him prior, but the way he juggles all those items is still the same. He dumps half of them into Yoongi’s arms, and his boyfriend takes them without putting up a fight at all. Receiving a clear indication of how annoyed he is, quickly matching his expression.

It still amuses Jeongguk, how either of them think they’re good at holding a grudge, especially against him. They play it off with a pinch to Hoseok’s cheek and a kick to Jeongguk’s ass.

“Okay, so how are we gonna do this?” Yoongi asks, massaging Hoseok’s red skin. “I propose throwing Jeongguk to the wolves. Literally.”

“That’s weird because, last time I checked, the one he wanted to maul to shreds was you, hyung,” Jeongguk points out with an impish grin. “How have those scars been healing?”

Hoseok removes Yoongi’s hand from his face in favour of holding it in his own, fingers interlocked. Some of the objects in their hold fall but he doesn’t care this time around. “Koo’s only four weeks old and yet the ones who need babysitting here are you two. Enough,” he scolds faintly, low enough so the hybrid doesn’t see that they’re bickering. “He’d never hurt you guys—not anymore at least—but I will if you keep giving me reasons to.”

Jeongguk would be muttering a partially sincere apology like Yoongi does if his mind wasn’t honing in on something else. “What did you call it?”

“Koo,” Hoseok repeats, softening, “it’s his new name.”

“Since when?” He fires back instantly.

Aside from the fact that Hoseok and Yoongi have both already gotten too comfortable around their experiment, the name itself sounds like it’s meant for a pet and not a human. Well, a half human. And Jeongguk doesn’t know how he feels about it.

“Yesterday,” Yoongi supplies with a chuckle, “you’d know if you were here.”

Lately, Jeongguk doesn’t know how to feel about a lot of things anymore.

“Don’t be ridiculous, it already has a name.” He willfully ignores the second part of Yoongi’s comment.

“A number isn’t a name, Ggukie.” Hoseok’s shaking his head as he stares at the hybrid from over his shoulder. He gives a small wave in greeting and the creature peers down at its own hand, outstretches its fingers, and then raises it, as well. Mimicking him. Whether he knows the significance behind the gesture or not is still an unknown. Maybe it’s even irrelevant. But Jeongguk’s breath hitches either way. “I decided he deserves a name that’s just as cute as him. So Koo fits him perfectly.”

“And stop referring to him as an it ,” Yoongi chides, “You keep trying to convince yourself that he’s just another thing of inconvenience, but judging by the look on your face, you’re far from believing that.”

Jeongguk can’t help how defensive he gets, not necessarily angry at Yoongi for speaking truth but at the situation itself. It’s never been easy for him to detach his emotions from his profession, but he’s always managed to not let it outwardly affect him. Until recently.

“Fine,” he says stubbornly, not in the mood to have this conversation, “can I go in to see him now? Or are you going to lecture me about that, too?”

Hoseok disregards his biting tone. “Someone’s eager.”

“Someone’s annoyed ,” Jeongguk corrects. Still, his lips quirks at one end and he stares up at them from behind his lashes.

“Be grateful that you’re technically still our boss, you little shit,” Yoongi cuts in, passing him the remaining items he’d been striving to balance in his grasp, and playfully ruffles Jeongguk’s hair with his free hand when Hoseok shuffles out of the way to let him through.

They can’t stay mad at him, but Jeongguk can’t stay mad at them, either.

He randomly chooses a set of flashcards from the collection before tossing the rest on a far end linoleum table that sits off to the left side. The hybrid seems confused when he notices Jeongguk looming in front of the steel metal door for a few seconds, opting to sit down on the grass spread eagle. It’s not a guarding stance, much to his relief.

And when Jeongguk finally enters—pressing the green button on a small dashboard located next to the threshold—the hybrid tilts his head, both of them waiting for the automatic door to fully open. Watching it move so painstakingly slow.

Even when the entryway is clear, Jeongguk hesitates. His feet trying to move, while his mind keeps telling him to reevaluate. Assess the plausible outcomes. What if the hybrid doesn’t let him leave by the end of their session? More importantly, what if Jeongguk doesn’t want to?

What if Jeongguk’s been the one in the wrong all along?

He allows himself to step forward despite the persistent sense of guilt that begins to plague him, inhaling deeper than intended. He’s thankful Yoongi and Hoseok don’t say anything about him being nervous, too—or maybe they do but there’s enough distance between them so Jeongguk can’t hear. What he does pick up on is the sound of the door sliding shut behind him, emphasizing that they’re now alone.

Jeongguk is now in the hybrid’s territory.

His colleagues remain outside, probably monitoring them, but the knowledge of it fades to the back of Jeongguk’s head as soon as he makes eye contact with the hybrid.

The enclosure smells like… dog. In a strangely good way.

He can only describe it as a natural musk, damp fur—likely more prominent due to the sweat which still lingers on his skin—mixed with a fresher scent that most puppies have shortly after they’re born and cleaned. Not too strong nor overbearing, and Jeongguk’s nose is actually almost fond of it.

It wasn’t as potent when they first met. It’s also possible Jeongguk just hadn’t noticed it. That or the hybrid’s scent glands weren’t properly developed back then.

For a moment, it feels like he’s reminiscing about a time that happened ages ago, a distant memory he can’t recall entirely. And something clenches within Jeongguk’s chest when he realizes how long he’s let himself spend apart from the hybrid. Regretfully so.

The hybrid doesn’t look all too pleased to have yet another scientist invading what’s supposed to be his personal space, not when Jeongguk’s been more than adamant in his rejection of him. They endure this wavering silence while Jeongguk allows him time to adjust. Frankly, he could use it, too. His glasses slip down towards the edge of his nose and the hybrid’s gaze follows the finger he uses to shove them back up.

When the hybrid crosses his arms together from his place on the ground, as if testing him to see what he’ll do next, Jeongguk ultimately finds his voice.

“Hi,” he rasps out. Clears his throat to sound less robotic.

He’s met with no response. Instead, the hybrid simply gives him a once over, tongue pressing against the inside of his right cheek.

Jeongguk tries again. “Do you… do you mind if I sit?” He points at a spot on the grass directly across from the hybrid in case he doesn’t understand. Not too close, but close enough. Close enough to make Jeongguk’s heart skip a beat. Barely noticeable.

The hybrid flicks his head towards the same spot after a minute or two, which Jeongguk takes as an invitation. Just in case, he measures his reaction carefully during his descent onto the grass. Except there isn’t one, the hybrid’s stoic expression somewhat unsettling. Jeongguk almost yearns for his overexcitement from their first encounter, troubled by his disinterest.

“I’m only here to ask you a few questions,” he clarifies, “is that alright? Can you nod if you understand?” He demonstrates the motion for him, hands tensing when the hybrid briefly shifts his attention towards the flash cards in his lap and raises an eyebrow. Nevertheless, he nods back.

Jeongguk should be happy, fucking ecstatic that the hybrid responds to verbal stimulus with hardly any guidance. But he won’t be thoroughly satisfied until he obtains a spoken response. Selfishly wants to be the first person who hears his voice—so much so that he doesn’t consider the probability that it must sound similar to his own.

“Good, that’s really good,” he commends lightly. Scratches behind his ear though there’s no real itch. If Jeongguk hadn’t been so fixated on the hybrid already, he would’ve failed to notice the slight twitch of his tail. How it subtly curls against his better judgment. But he does see it. And it motivates him to continue.

It takes a couple of fumbles for him to retrieve the cards from their box, sorting through them to select the ones he wants and then laying five of them out in front of him with the picture side facing up. He straightens one that’s gone crooked before his eyes find the hybrid’s again. He looks bored, arms now extended outwards behind his back, legs still spread wide. Meanwhile, Jeongguk subconsciously rests on his knees, legs tucked underneath his body in a non-threatening manner. Lab coat fanning out beside him.

The hybrid scoots closer, something Jeongguk doesn’t notice because he’s delicately picking up the first flash card, trying to be methodical about how he phrases each of his questions. “Do you know what this is?” The picture is of grass; a big, vibrant green lawn. The word is written on the side only Jeongguk can see.

Bringing one of his hands forward, the hybrid grazes it along the grass situated in the space between his legs. He plucks a single blade from the patch there and holds it up towards the light, twirling it. Lets it float down and settle in his palm until he decides to blow it away with a soft gust of air, aiming it in Jeongguk’s direction.

It eventually blends in with the rest of the grass, same colour and shape. But it’ll rot quicker, too. No stem to hold it in place anymore, no root to give it life.

Jeongguk falters, wondering if the hybrid would understand those implications. If he would care. Is Jeongguk expected to explain it to him? The fragility of his own existence?

He grabs the second card in line, not letting his thoughts wander too far. This picture is of an outdated television, stylistically ancient compared to the flatscreen in the room. Though, they’re not totally distinct from each other.

“How about this one?”

There’s a lull. Jeongguk hopes for another vague response from the hybrid but garners none, not even a point or a glance at the television he spends hours watching daily. Either because he genuinely doesn’t know the answer or because he’s grown tired of playing along after only just starting. And Jeongguk bets he’s safe to assume that it’s the latter. Hoseok’s warning of the hybrid’s stubbornness echoing through his head.

He contemplates taking a different approach, but wants to exhaust this option first.

“It’s something you use regularly,” Jeongguk prompts, reminding himself to maintain the span of his vocabulary plain and simple. Talking steadily.

Still, nothing.

There’s defiance in the hybrid’s eyes, however. Like he’s the one testing Jeongguk and not the other way around. With a huff, he places the card down a tad too forceful and scoops up the third from the middle. 

Drawn on it is a wolf. Composed of a charcoal black pelt and yellow irises. Beautiful.

The hybrid’s head tilts, analyzing the picture. Processing it with furrowed brows and a soft noise of incertitude. Jeongguk wishes he could take a glimpse inside his mind. Uncover how he thinks without striving to coax it out. Specifically, what he thinks. About himself. About this place—his whole world narrowed down to just four walls. But also about Jeongguk and what he really makes him feel.

He perks up when the hybrid suddenly holds his hand open, expectantly. Looking between Jeongguk and his palm. Those doe grey eyes more than convincing. One could accidentally get lost in them if they were to stare long enough.

Jeongguk tentatively slides him the card, heat radiating from his hand. A dry swallow getting caught in his throat as the hybrid purposely drapes his fingers over Jeongguk’s. Holding them together in a gentle grip.

It denotes protection. Comfort.

But it’s gone as soon as it came. Before Jeongguk can even deliberate what would’ve happened if he had squeezed back.

“You—you’ll be rewarded at the end of today. Depending on how many of these you answer correctly.” He should’ve mentioned it earlier because the hybrid pauses briefly to heed his statement before he resumes fiddling with the card. “I know how much you like those scraps of meat Hoseok saves for you as a snack...” Jeongguk’s incentive tapers off.

He observes the hybrid sniff the card once. Twice. Treating it almost delicately.

That is, until he’s ripping it in half—a clean cut down the middle where the wolf’s face has now separated into left and right sections. Purposefully dragging it out so Jeongguk can see the gratification he does it with.

The pieces hit the grass and, for a while, they’re quiet. While Jeongguk tries to decipher the action. Decide whether he wants to leave or join the hybrid in tearing apart the other cards, as well.

Instead, he gets an idea and says, “How about this. If I do or say something you don’t like again, you can just rip one of these. Okay?” There are one hundred cards in the pack—well, ninety nine—but Jeongguk hopes he doesn’t fuck up so that they’ll still have at least some left by the time their session is over. Determined to get the hybrid to speak by engaging in a series of trivial games and other, more structured procedures.

He even gets Yoongi to toss him a soccer ball and a notepad with a pencil through the food slot in order to deduce how fast the hybrid’s reflexes are and if he’s willing to write something down since he doesn’t show any interest in being vocal.

Jeongguk manages to keep up at first despite the hybrid’s efforts to tire him out. Equalling his level of energy. But they have to ditch the soccer ball when the hybrid kicks it too hard and makes a crack in the corner of the window. The notepad is also rendered useless when he snaps the pencil by chewing on it in the middle of jotting down each letter of the alphabet perfectly. Weak wood giving way beneath the strength of his powerful teeth.

And it’s straight downhill from there. The hybrid becoming increasingly more frustrated at each task Jeongguk presents him with after that, insistent on not participating or performing horribly if he does.

All it takes is an hour to turn Jeongguk’s original determination into surrender.

To be fair to himself, he deems the hybrid unreasonable. Someone who acts tenacious just because he can. Most of the instances in which he’d ripped—more like tattered—the cards were simply done out of spite. Overpowered by anger and resentment. Jeongguk probably deserved all of it, but he’d never admit to that.

Now, only ten cards remain.

Hoseok was right, the hybrid was a lot smarter than Jeongguk gave him credit for. But he underestimated just how irritating he could be, too. He’s exactly like him in that aspect.

“You know what, this clearly isn’t working,” Jeongguk starts, raking a hand through his hair. A few blades of grass stick to his fingers from where they’d gotten caught on sweaty strands. “You don’t want me here and I’m not going to waste my time. So I’m only going to ask you one last thing before I’m out of your way.”

He’s out of breath and craving a nap. Ready to let Hoseok and Yoongi take over. As always, when it comes to the hybrid. Recently, it’s like he’s got every factor working against him. Another kick to the chest. He can’t hide his disappointment, it’s true, but he also won’t deny that being around the hybrid stirs something deep within Jeongguk.

Dark and unethical.

A potentially corrupt sensation that could mature, spiral out of control, if left unchecked.

Because the hybrid is starting to look less like a reflection of himself, and more like an alternate version meant to taunt and tempt him.

Jeongguk stands by the door, keycard in hand, peering down at the hybrid who glares right back, unamused. They’re in the same positions from before, when he initially entered the enclosure. At some point, however, the hybrid must’ve snagged his shirt on something, because there’s a gash in the fabric that rests atop his shoulder. Exposed to Jeongguk’s wandering eyes.

“Do you know who I am?”

It tumbles from between his lips before he can stop it. No chance to rethink the tone he applies, a little fearful—of what, he isn’t sure—yet encouraging. A question he’s pondered every logical response to. One he’s wanted to ask since the beginning.

Would he be distressed if the hybrid was aware of who he is? Does he prefer to be a stranger who just happens to have the same face?

Still, he braces himself.

And when the hybrid nods, in an almost mocking fashion, Jeongguk thinks he’ll leave it at that. Desperate to make his escape and overanalyze what it might mean for him. For them.

But what he doesn’t expect is the low proclamation that pierces the painfully tense atmosphere.

“Mate.”

The word is uttered like it’s sacred, spoken with such reverence that clashes against the raspiness of his throat. Neither of them accustomed to the sound of the hybrid’s unused voice.

“Mate?” Jeongguk parrots dumbly, clutching onto the door frame for balance.

Another nod. And then—

“That’s why you can’t be around me, isn’t it?” The hybrid raises to his feet, taking a single step forward. Stalking. There’s a lecherous shift in his posture.

Jeongguk’s back presses into solid metal, trying to prevent his knees from buckling. Speechless to what he’s hearing. All this time, he’s been seen as a mate. Some kind of lifelong partner. It’s disorienting, unrealistic to even fathom.

So why is there a pulsing need at the pit of his stomach?

“I don’t—”

“Because I’m not like you or him ,” the hybrid continues, pointing down at the torn picture of the wolf that lies among the pile of shredded paper. Yellow eyes as intense as the grey ones he’s looking into now. “Not really. But you feel the same as I do. The difference is that you just haven’t accepted it yet.”

The hybrid’s tail wags impatiently, and Jeongguk hasn’t seen it do that because of him in a long while. Too long. It sways gracefully, unrestrained. He doesn’t even register the fact that the hybrid speaks with flawless articulation, can’t pause to inquire when he was able to learn it all on his own.

“I’m not sure where you got that idea from. Because I’m not here to be a mate to you or anyone .” The airiness in Jeongguk’s tone betrays him. So does the throb between his legs.

“You’re not an omega, Jeongguk.” He says his name with pure transgression on his tongue. Body hovering near enough to be intimidating. The hybrid scoffs, “But you are mine.”

Jeongguk automatically swipes his keycard without another word, smoothing out the wrinkles on his lab coat and walking backwards past the threshold until he’s a safe distance from the enclosure—though, part of him felt safer inside.

The hybrid makes no move to follow Jeongguk and, even as the door begins closing shut, he makes sure his eye contact never wavers.

His parting gift is a tenuous smirk.

Hoseok rushes over to him, Yoongi not far behind from where he was lazing in a chair, food wrappers scattered along the linoleum table next to him. It must be late afternoon by now. “What happened?”

The looks on their faces tell him that they don’t know whether to be concerned that he sped from the room with urgency, or at ease because spending an extensive amount of time in there must imply progress.

“Well, he… he spoke.”

Yoongi scrubs the exhaustion off his face, “Fucking what?”

“What did he say?” Hoseok’s expression morphs into one of astonishment.

But, rather than explain, Jeongguk shakes his head. Patting a hand over his coat pocket to make sure his car keys are there before he mutters, “The name you chose. Koo...” Sounds innocent when said plainly, a stark contrast to how the hybrid had pronounced his name. He coughs. Regains his footing. “It works.”

A swinging tail catches Jeongguk’s periphery as he turns on his heels, steering himself directly towards the exit. Yoongi and Hoseok’s shouts muted by the screeching gears turning in his brain, working a mile a minute.

He plans to take that bath he promised himself. Maybe an eight hour nap, too, just so the noise coming from all directions goes away.

And yet, no matter how much sleep he gets, Jeongguk knows the word mate will still be ringing in both ears.

♡ ♡ ♡

Guilt.

Stress and guilt are what engulf him.

One of them caused by the hybrid and the other simply amplified by him. The half-wolf, half-human representing two sides of a glinting, sharp blade. A product of Jeongguk’s evasion.

Every mental barricade has been swept away as of late. His mind at war with his traitorous body the more he loses himself, reminiscing on how the hybrid’s attitude had transformed into something so distinctly possessive when confronted with whom he wholeheartedly believes to be his mate.

Just the notion of it is unethical, wrong in ways that are obvious to understand. But it’s a dark, shadowed path that still calls to Jeongguk. Invites him to delve deeper, to see what lies beyond the ordinary. Catering to the part of him that longs to revel in his discoveries—not only as a man of science, but as a red-blooded man who is no stranger to his own desires, unorthodox as they might be.

It’s true what they say, about drunk words being sober thoughts. Although, in Jeongguk’s case, his actions are what reveal repressed secrets. Because when pressure builds from having to meet everyone’s expectations, and he realizes his twenties are being wasted on solving problems that aren’t his, there’s nothing a bottle of wine and a few candles can’t fix. Allowing himself to succumb to a different method of relaxation.

And it’s in the comfort of his own home that Jeongguk finally unwinds. A journey that begins with a glass—or five—of chardonnay and a harmless internet search, and ends with him crying out into a pillow the same night, muffling hiccuped moans as his body trembles through an abrupt climax that leaves him sticky and unsatisfied.

His laptop is left opened on the page he’d just drunkenly jerked off to. A hint of excitement creeping into his intoxicated mind when he rereads the message on his screen— Congratulations! Your order has been placed.

Later, he’ll deny all accountability for paying the hefty price of express overnight shipping on the largest dildo he could find.

After all, it’s the alcohol that’s to blame.

But the real downside to drinking is that a certain four letter word always lingers on Jeongguk’s tongue, making a home in the forefront of his brain. “ Mate .” Regardless, he refuses to acknowledge it. Not letting it see the light of day along with the heavy box now stuffed under his bed.

He’d have to live with the consequences of what he’d done—awakening a side of himself that’s been dormant for years—in secret. Nobody could know about this, not even his colleagues. Especially not them. Jeongguk can only imagine the shit Hoseok and Yoongi would put him through if they were to find out. Though his worst nightmare involved the hybrid somehow catching on, because then Jeongguk would never be able to face him again.

As it is, doing so is difficult, and he’s riddled with guilt once more as days pass without another visit to the hybrid’s chambers. Luckily, Hoseok and Yoongi are more than willing to pick up the slack, constantly monitoring his behavior and dutifully presenting updated reports to Jeongguk where he’s holed himself up inside other areas of their facility. Namely his own office. As much as he wants to see the hybrid again in order to make sense of what’s unfolding between them, now that he’s been made aware of the hybrid's ability to vocalize, he can’t imagine that his presence wouldn’t be met with more defiance this time around, especially after another prolonged absence.

That, and Jeongguk is simply a coward.

He’s terrified of facing a truth that becomes more apparent with each passing moment. How an experiment created under a lack of care on his behalf has become more than he could’ve expected. More than he’d prepared for.

It keeps Jeongguk up at night when he thinks about the hybrid, the way camera footage shows how he hangs back near the glass partition as if waiting for him to return, accusation vibrant within the intensity of those large grey eyes. But facing Experiment 197 means facing himself, which he is shamefully not ready for. Has a track record of running away from it.

Yoongi, as usual, tries to interject, often presenting activities for Jeongguk to try with the hybrid in order to keep him stimulated, but to no avail.

“I can tell he’s getting bored of me and Hoseok showing up,” he mutters, and Jeongguk can see that Yoongi’s weary and drained the same way he’s been, but for different reasons altogether. Dark circles grace his under eyes, disheveled hair providing an obvious conclusion. “And I’m tired of having to lie to him and say that you’re not avoiding him when he asks. Because he does ask, everyday .”

Under Yoongi’s scrutiny, Jeongguk feels impotent and immature, as petulant as the hybrid was when he’d torn up the flashcards. They’re more similar than he’d initially assumed, even in their less than desirable traits.

“I’m not avoiding him.” Jeongguk knows he must sound whiny, but there’s no way to prevent it. Steering clear of the hybrid might be for the best, despite the ache that results from it. “He’s not a child and shouldn’t act like one. You two give him the exact same treatment that I would. His problem isn’t behavioural, it’s personal.”

Yoongi runs a hand down his face with an exasperated sigh, and Jeongguk can sense the anger he’s trying to suppress. “Maybe you should reconsider who’s acting like a child in this situation, because Koo is cooperating,” he remarks coolly. “Granted, he’s only a few weeks into his development and has room for error, but so far he’s doing better than we’d hoped. He can speak, he can write, and he’s learning how to read. Novels, in case you were wondering. What have you been doing other than sulking?”

“Please, go ahead, hyung. Tell me how you really feel,” Jeongguk bites back, resorting to sarcasm to deal with the fact that he’s at a loss of what else to say. He can’t help but feel like an actual child that Yoongi and Hoseok have to chase around for him to do what he’s told. Wouldn’t be surprised if literal timeouts were on the horizon. Fiddling with the pen on his desk, Jeongguk avoids Yoongi’s eyes when he speaks again. “I’ll consider coming around more when he learns how to recite Shakespeare.”

Yoongi snorts. They both know Jeongguk is full of shit, but they’re also too exhausted to argue about it. “Careful what you wish for or you’ll have him doing a solo performance of ‘ Romeo and Juliet’ by next week,” he says, a wry smile curving his lips as Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “He’s definitely the type to like fairy tales better, though. How do you think he’d feel about ‘Little Red Riding Hood ’?”

“Get out,” Jeongguk remarks bluntly, grinning despite the twinge in his chest. “I get enough bite from the pup, I don’t need it from you, too.”

“The pup is way more human than you care to admit, Jeonggukie. Thank god he’s just not fucked up like the rest of us. You could learn a lot from him.” Yoongi pats his leg before turning towards the door that leads back to the main hall inside the lab, leaving Jeongguk to ruminate in his own thoughts.

♡ ♡ ♡

If it’s not one thing that inhibits his ability to get a good night’s sleep, it’s another.

Curiosity gnaws at Jeongguk whenever he lays in bed at the darkest hours, leaving him to fight off a restlessness that rarely ceases. A battle he’s repeatedly been losing recently. Experiment 197’s development bringing in positive results at an alarmingly quick rate comes with the realization that Jeongguk will have to present him to his superiors sooner than they’d anticipated. And that knowledge, coupled with the fact that the hybrid will no longer be their secret to share, leaves him oddly irked.

He’s known from early on that the hybrid would eventually have to be turned in, handed off once he becomes self-sufficient for someone else to decide his fate—which Jeongguk wants so badly to be a good one. Willing to use his position to influence the final verdict and sway it in the hybrid’s favour. But Jeongguk will cross that bridge when he reaches it. Just like he’ll have to when the possibility of the hybrid being taken away presents itself. Because it’s one thing for Jeongguk to voluntarily ignore him, but another for him to no longer have the option to even visit.

And maybe that inadvertently impacts his involvement in the case. Still maintaining his distance, but not to the same extent as he had during the beginning weeks. Now closely monitoring him and drawing his own conclusions without complete reliance on Hoseok, Yoongi, or his hidden cameras. Whether the hybrid is aware or not that Jeongguk’s presence is far more frequent, it doesn’t change the fact he’s still difficult to decipher. Acting in ways that usually can’t be predicted.

What Jeongguk discerns from watching him is that Yoongi was right in his assumption. The hybrid is bored . Persistently pacing through the grass and wearing it thin with every step, a few patches already torn out with his bare hands. The television, as well as the newly installed treadmill set by the wall, not interesting him in the slightest.

His eagerness to read had dwindled slightly when, after finishing all his current books, the hybrid had tried to look through his own file the moment Hoseok got distracted while in the enclosure.

None of them are sure of how much he actually saw that day, but ever since then it’s like he has the upperhand. Or maybe it’s just Jeongguk who feels that way.

The hybrid has a way of making him feel powerless.

Something he does have power over sits right under his bed, inside an inconspicuous looking box meant to maintain buyer privacy from prying eyes—not that his mailman would care. It’s been collecting dust for a week. Jeongguk’s hangover is long gone but the shame remains. Still cursing himself for buying the damn thing during a drunken stupor, yet he hasn’t had the nerve to use ever since he’d peeked inside and realized what it was.

Cheeks flaming, Jeongguk flops onto his stomach, hiding his face against the pillow and kicking at his sheets. He’s no stranger to dildos, considering how he’s a proud owner of several others, but this one differs so much from the rest that it’s nearly laughable. Gingerly, still unsure of what his plans for the evening are, Jeongguk fumbles a hand beneath his bed in search of the box, a loud groan leaving him once his fingers hit cardboard.

It’s a matter of getting it over and done with, which Jeongguk does when he brings the box into bed with him and peers inside. The dildo itself is a vibrant shade of red, thicker than the others he owns, but shorter in length. Where it differs and makes his breath hitch is at the tip. Rounded, deep rippled grooves spanning across the shaft and at the flared swell near the base. 

It's knotted .

Jeongguk curls his palm around it, familiarizing himself with its weight and size. He refuses to acknowledge the reasons why he bought this particular kind of toy, considering how he’s not sure if his speculations are even correct. Nevermind the denial surrounding who he thought of while making the purchase, either.

To admit that would mean recognizing what he’s adamant on keeping to himself.

He is, however, becoming more and more aware of the toy in his hand. How it warms to the touch and, particularly, how it looks . And, without even a sip of liquor this time, Jeongguk gives in. Remnant licks of heat accumulating around his groin as he reaches inside his bedside table for a bottle of peach lube.

He reasons that it’ll fit, that the toy’s length is just right for him to sink down on without much effort as he sheds his clothes. First the thin tee, then the grey colored briefs. It should fit. He’s taken longer toys before with a bit of prepping and figures this one will be no different. The question remains on the knot, but Jeongguk is nothing if not committed.

But his resilience is tested sooner rather than later, when he’s four fingers deep and the emptiness hasn’t subsided, not as full as he’d like to be. As he craves to be. A whine leaves his lips when he goes harder, pulling out only to thrust back in without pause. Sweat quickly gathering. It beads at his forehead as he fucks in those wet fingers, not nearly enough to satisfy him, but enough to give him a good stretch.

He blushes while crawling off the mattress, toy secured in his other hand. Up close and personal like this, as he slathers lube down the shaft, it looks bigger. A lot more threatening. And yet he’s not shy to a little pain—another dark desire of his he’s yet to explore with anyone else. The dildo itself has a suctioned end that sticks easily to the ground, angled just right.

Eyes falling shut, Jeongguk positions himself over the toy on his knees, trembling with anticipation, cock hard and dripping precum onto the hardwood floor. He tries not to think about how embarrassed he’ll feel cleaning it up later.

A broken moan sounds out as he curls a hand over the base of it and rubs the blunt tip over his hole, a tease to the real thing.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, clenching around nothing at first. Achingly empty and wishing to be filled to the fucking brim. Body tensing as he pushes the tip inside, Jeongguk gasps. Spreads his legs wider and arches his back, pushing his hips down onto the toy until the partially flared head finally sinks inside him, deliciously thick. “God, fuck .”

Struggling to gather himself, Jeongguk flattens his palms onto the ground beside him, focus blurring at the edges the further he fucks the toy inside. It’s a slow rhythm, a familiar routine despite how long it’s been since he’s done this. He works it into his ass shallowly, grinding against the rippled shaft. It’s slippery and wet, and Jeongguk whines because that’s how he wants it, how he prefers his sex to be.

Downright filthy .

He writhes at the pressure mounting up against his groin as he attempts to slam down onto the toy and is met with resistance, the fucking knot too thick to fit inside him. The more he tries the more his legs tremble and threaten to collapse, his body resisting to relax and soften enough to give Jeongguk the fullness he desperately seeks—the fullness that comes with a thick cock splitting him open and leaving him starry eyed and breathless.

When was the last time he experienced that, if ever?

Frustrated, Jeongguk cries out when the knot grazes his hole, rim already sensitive. Can’t help but wonder if a real life knot would be as difficult before he squirms at the turn his thoughts take. Who they gravitate to. A pair of intense grey eyes sizing him up, daring him to go further, to give in—whether it’s to the pleasure or to something else. Jeongguk’s mind hazy and failing to organize his thoughts into reasonable territories, running on base need alone.

He’s breathless and sweaty past just the forehead now, surrendering to the feeling he’s given. Taking what’s there for him to accept, the part of the toy that fits. It’s nowhere near what he wants, but greed has him sinking onto the silicone fast and hard, unable to quell his desire any longer.

A heated flush spreads down his body as he tenses suddenly and comes, thoughts running rampant on how he wishes the knot would’ve fit.

Tremors wracks through Jeongguk as he rides the toy through his climax, cock sensitive to the touch when he curls a hand around it and strokes down fast with a groan. Frustrated at how he gets off on fucking himself because it’s not as satisfying as it could be with the real thing.

He falls asleep to an imaginary pair of hands encircling his waist, comforted only by the fact that nobody will know who they belong to. Nobody except him.

“You’re not an omega, Jeongguk.” He says his name with pure transgression on his tongue. Body hovering near enough to be intimidating. The hybrid scoffs, “But you are mine.”

Lightheaded, Jeongguk can do nothing but gasp. Finds he can’t say no. Can’t say yes, either. Held under the hybrid’s stare, body pressing up against the door. It’s spoken with intention, as a command. Like a touch ghosting over his groin where the throb grows persistent.

The line blurs when it comes to the hybrid, boundaries so close to being crossed. Jeongguk’s lips part but no sound leaves him except for the smallest of whines. And the hybrid looms forward.

“ Submit. ”

Jeongguk inhales sharply at his tone, attempting to look away. At anything other than the rise and fall of his chest, the subtle but apparent growl that comes with the territory of being half-man, half-beast.

Phrases of retaliation form in Jeongguk’s head, and yet none of them become anything more than another passing thought. The hybrid’s breath fans against his ear as he leans in. “Jeongguk, there’s no use in pretending anymore. Y’think I haven’t gotten you all figured out?”

Jeongguk swallows hard. Eyes darting low, they slide down the hybrid's chest, settling on his stomach where the shirt wears thinnest, showcasing a sliver of taut and firm muscle. 

“I—I can’t ,” Jeongguk rasps, a contradiction to the way his hands move lower and settle on the hybrid’s stomach, near the hem of his pants. Skin hot through thin fabric. He shudders, fingers quivering when they fist the shirt tight and tug.

The hybrid’s smirk is telling. Imbued with satisfaction. His hand is soft as it grazes Jeongguk’s chin and tips it towards him, their gazes meeting. Leaving Jeongguk with nowhere to hide as he gets closer, nuzzling his jaw. The hybrid bares his teeth and the sharp canines meet the side of Jeongguk’s throat, offering soft nips rather than full bites. It’s meant to tease. Provoke.

Jeongguk tries to snap out of it, straightening up to collect himself in order to exit the enclosure and return to whatever the hell he was supposed to be doing. Continue his day by forgetting this all happened. But something pulls him towards the hybrid seeking his touch.

Fevered and impatient, he lets out a low growl against Jeongguk’s shoulder. Lips soft despite this—as they trail up the crook of his neck, against the shell of his ear, tongue dipping inside. 

Jeongguk moans, the sound laced with such desperate need that it shakes him at his core. Makes him press into the hybrid until their bodies connect with a soft thud and the weight of the hybrid fully settles against him. Thick thigh wedged between Jeongguk’s legs, grazing his cock. 

Ever petulant when he’s denied, the hybrid reciprocates. More human than he lets on, his hands find Jeongguk’s waist to squeeze tight and jerk him forward. “You can,” he purrs, running his fingers down Jeongguk’s arms, circling his wrists. The hybrid brings Jeongguk’s palms lower, until they slide against his cock, where the heat has multiplied. “If you submit to me—to this —I’ll give you everything you’ve been denying yourself of. You just have to want it.”

Jeongguk tenses, sending the hybrid a glare. Never one to turn down a challenge, he gives the hybrid a taste of his own medicine, rubbing against the straining bulge in his pants, a crude show of its size. When the hybrid's tail stiffens and he utters a warning growl, Jeongguk smiles. 

“Make me,” he breathes. Sounding more like a request than a dare, aware that he’s not fooling anyone, rather playing a part. The prey that believes it can outlast a predator, a lost lamb trapped in the wolf’s den.

The room falls silent. Jeongguk pants, and the hybrid tilts his head. He pushes his clothed cock into Jeongguk’s hands, inciting him to pull back. Now’s his chance, the only out he’ll get.

Jeongguk doesn’t move. Rooted in place, he licks his lips, meets the hybrid's gaze, hooded and darkened with a lust so carnal that it renders him speechless.

Hands finding Jeongguk’s jaw, the hybrid guides it upwards. Their lips brushing against each other’s when he whispers, “Submit, pup .”

It’s like a switch is flipped, and Jeongguk’s body bows forward, knees giving out from underneath him until they find solid ground. He sinks slowly but his descent into madness is imminent. Looking up, Jeongguk perceives how the hybrid radiates an aura of power, a true predator in his element. With the prey serving itself up to him—so willing .

His breath leaves his lungs at a ragged pace and he can’t control it. His entire body trembling when the hybrid steps forward to lay a hand flat over his head, fingers running through his hair. 

“Good boy,” he croons, free hand working the string that holds his pants up.

Jeongguk’s mouth waters, the anticipation of the hybrid’s cock has him starving for a taste.

When he peers up, the hybrid is already watching him. A satisfied smile curling the edge of his lips as Jeongguk edges forward, lips parted.

“Please,” he whispers, “Please, alpha .”

The heat becomes too much, stifling where it meets Jeongguk’s skin and slides down his body, enveloping and stealing his breath. He shifts forward, seeking more, so achingly empty inside that a frustrated cry leaves his lips and he—

Finds himself alone. Jolted awake. Eyes shot open and staring up at the ceiling, disoriented. The room is spinning, his gasps loud compared to the silence of what he concludes to be his bedroom.

Turning over, he cringes once he feels it.

A coolness on his skin, slick between his legs. The boxers pressed to his groin where a damp grey spot stains the front. It takes a second for Jeongguk to register what just happened. Realizing that he came in his pants like a horny teenager after a heated first kiss.

All he can do is lay there, uncomfortably soaked in his own shame.

♡ ♡ ♡

Jeongguk has never thought of himself as much of a coffee drinker.

Yoongi often said it was because he already had too much bitterness in his life.

But when a cup’s worth of caffeine from his tea can’t do the trick after another restless night, the espresso shot at a cafe five minutes from home is Jeongguk’s only saving grace.

A drug to feed his work addiction. Leaving him energized but also antsy. Usually enough to take the edge off for a few hours until he can fit a power nap in somewhere throughout the day—sometimes in his office, other times in his car during what’s supposed to be his lunch break.

Although, the lack of sleep he’s received these past few weeks hasn’t been entirely in vain. Jeongguk’s time spent reworking formulas and refining their process for experimental gene selection had finally paid off, leading to a breakthrough for his team. And, in just this month alone, they’ve had the highest number of viable cases since last year.

But with every accomplishment comes a challenge—or many. They’re still exploring options for proper sustainability of these animals, not only within the facility but also looking at how they’d eventually respond when forced to engage with and integrate into a more natural habitat. Whether it be farms and grazing fields for livestock or forests and grasslands for wildlife. Their levels of interaction with other animals of their species had to be tested before release, as well. To ensure their capacity for future breeding and to prevent premature demise.

Various components depended on each other, so for the project to be labeled an actual success it would mean total reconstruction of the ecosystem—a result that would take at least a decade, if not longer—and require irrefutable evidence to back up their studies.

There are several aspects of cloning that remain unknown, but every trial is another layer pulled back. An opportunity to make their own future advancements. And that gave Jeongguk hope.

The hybrid, however, is already a success story all on his own.

His progress unparalleled.

Just two months since his accidental inception have passed, but he’s already established a degree of intellect on par with that of a human adult male. Able to learn and retain basic information at an alarmingly fast rate. A surprising factor in his development considering his tendency to be overcome by instinct more than necessary. Random spikes in his behaviour that convey a willingness to let need subjugate any form of reason.

Maybe Jeongguk isn’t the only one harbouring an inner turmoil. Except he shouldn’t even be dealing with it in the first place.

But his dreams have gotten worse—more frequent, too—in the sense that all of them involve the hybrid now. So incredibly realistic that he’s forced to recall each detail of what they did without fail, reliving them under the head of his shower come morning. When he strokes his cock greedily despite himself. Unable to fuck himself with his fingers because he’s still tender from his repeated attempts to fit the knot on his dildo inside every night.

The streams of hot water wash away any tangible evidence of his offense, but they can’t cleanse him of how filthy he still feels afterwards. Self-hatred immediately replacing his pleasure, his bed and bathroom the only places to witness his true vulnerabilities.

And if his neighbours are ever home at the same time he is, Jeongguk’s grateful they haven’t decided to file a noise complaint yet.

He enters the staff kitchen baring a tray of ramen cups, setting aside two for him and one for Yoongi and Hoseok each. They all agreed to eat dinner before the three of them headed down to spend the rest of their day with the hybrid. He was due for another physical exam and they’d asked Jeongguk to be there this time. It’s not like he had a choice to say no if he wanted to start taking on more responsibility with the hybrid.

But he didn’t realize the actual magnitude of that responsibility until it came on too fast, too soon.

“You’re in luck, Jeongguk. You get to give wolfie a bath today.” Yoongi nudges his side but only turns towards him when he hears coughing.

Jeongguk had been mid-slurp, noodles getting caught in his throat at the announcement. Spicy broth burning the back of it as he tried to swallow around a modest choke. Hoseok tried to help by patting him on the back and Jeongguk didn’t have the heart to tell him it had the opposite effect.

Finally catching his breath, he stutters out weakly, “Why does he need a bath?”

Yoongi sips the rest of his drink through the reusable straw he carries around with him everywhere he goes and eyes Jeongguk skeptically. “Uh, for the same reason we all do? Cleanliness and general hygiene. He can’t get by on just wet wipes and washcloths.” 

“To be fair,” Hoseok interjects, “the smell is barely his fault. It’s from the rotting carcasses he insists on holding onto after he’s finished eating.”

Jeongguk crinkles his nose. He would’ve expected the hybrid to develop at least some table manners at this point but watching him feed was always such an experience in and of itself that he nearly finds the act endearing.

“Well, can’t he clean himself?”

Talking around his last mouthful of food, Yoongi stands to throw his finished ramen cup in the trash. He comes back to the table and does the same with Hoseok’s empty containers. “He likes to get hosed down sometimes, but the second we introduce a bar of soap into the equation? No dice.”

“I doubt he’s ready to leave the room with either of us,” Hoseok asserts, pointing between himself and Yoongi, “which is why we brought Holly’s inflatable pool from home so he’ll be in his safe space the whole time.”

“I’m sure your dog loved that idea,” Jeongguk laughs, wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin. He’ll probably have to throw his lab coat in the washer later, specks of red broth staining white. When he doesn’t hear anyone respond, he looks up. “Wait, you’re serious? The facility has washing basins for this sort of thing.” The shower room was reserved for staff only.

“We don’t want him to get scared, Ggukie.” Hoseok says it like it’s something so obvious but Jeongguk thinks it should already be obvious to them that the hybrid doesn’t scare easily. Or maybe it’s only that way around him. He shivers.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

Yoongi chuckles, shoving him forward so he can lead the way to the elevator on the other side of the hall. “After you, boss.”

Jeongguk feels somewhat queasy the entire way down, and it’s not because of the food settled in his stomach.

The fluorescent lights in this part of the building generally take a while to flicker on, it’s been inaccessible for so long that no one’s bothered to switch them out. One of these days they might stop working altogether but they can’t afford to call maintenance down here, the enclosure just a few feet away from prying eyes.

As soon as they enter, though, it’s the hybrid’s gaze that’s trained on them. On Jeongguk, specifically.

He’s currently lifting weights—something that’s recently become a routine and coincidentally, happens whenever he knows that Jeongguk’s planning to come by—while the television plays in the background. By the looks of it, he hasn’t been doing it for an extended period of time because there’s an absence of sweat on every part of him.

Then again, Jeongguk doesn’t stare long enough to figure out if he’s right. The all too familiar encounter reminding him of their meeting from a month ago.

What he does notice is how the sleeves of the hybrid’s shirt are missing. Lean muscle straining with every raise of the dumbbell. His biceps seem like they’re the same size as Jeongguk’s, possibly a bit larger, but somehow the hybrid gives off the impression of being a lot stronger than him.

As if he could bench press Jeongguk or pin him against a wall at any given moment.

He lets Yoongi take the initiative once again, cowering behind him as he opens the metal door, Hoseok following closely behind after having retrieved the inflatable pool and an air pump from the far-end table.

Gradually, they’ve added more things to the hybrid’s room. Rewards for his—relatively—good behaviour. It’s starting to look more like an actual living space rather than some cage of imprisonment. Jeongguk’s happy that the hybrid is making it his own. He notices a sketchbook splayed out on the makeshift bed, but he can only make out the silhouette of a person.

“Evening, Koo,” Yoongi greets with a smile, folding his arms across his chest.

If he’s still intimidated by the creature, he sure doesn’t make it apparent anymore.

Yoongi receives a nod back once the hybrid has set down the weight, a faint bow of the head. A sign of respect. He does it towards Hoseok, too. But all Jeongguk gets is a knowing smirk.

The scientist grits his teeth. Annoyed. They’re already off to a bad start.

“I’m guessing you remember what today is?” Hoseok gently inquires, giving him an encouraging grin.

“Exam day,” he replies easily. Now that he was able to comprehend more about his situation, they thought it was better to inform the hybrid a few days in advance if anything other than observation or monitoring was on the schedule. That way, he wouldn’t be taken by surprise.

Hoseok’s unfolding the pool so that it lays down flat and Jeongguk instantly notices the design on the plastic—dogs. Of course. “That’s right, good.” He connects the automatic pump to the pool’s opening, turning it on so the air can begin flowing. “And I’m sure you also know what has to come before that.”

The hybrid is less enthusiastic about that particular detail, grumbling the word bath as his eyes meet the ground. But his attitude is short-lived when Yoongi joins in on the conversation.

“No worries, you’re in safe hands. Jeonggukie here volunteered to do the honours today. He’ll be helping you wash up, is that okay?”

And Jeongguk wishes he could’ve kept his mouth shut because the hybrid’s ears perk up straight away. Tail wagging against his leg despite his contained expression.

“Oh,” he states, nonchalantly, “I guess that should be fine.” He feigns an innocence that Jeongguk can see right through. While Yoongi and Hoseok busy themselves with inflating the pool and filling it with water, the hybrid keeps Jeongguk in place with the flash of grey irises. Swimming in their colour.

He wonders about the change in attitude these last few weeks. Why he wants to make Jeongguk’s colleagues believe this innocuous guise is genuine while letting Jeongguk discern his true nature.

If Yoongi calls him a brat on a regular basis, then what does that classify the hybrid as?

It isn’t until Hoseok brings in towels, a bucket, and an extra change of clothes that Jeongguk snaps out of it, a hush falling over them after Yoongi clicks the television off.

“We’ll leave you to it. Try not to make a mess,” he directs at the hybrid, “and, you, be patient with him.” The last part is meant for Jeongguk who wants to tell him to fuck off as a retort but is silently begging for him to not leave.

The door sliding shut always sounds like a gavel striking against a sound block, like it’s condemning Jeongguk to suffer through a never ending world of tension during his visit.

Rolling up his sleeves and unclipping the keycard from his lower pocket so it doesn’t get wet, he shakily gestures towards the hybrid.

“Come on, then, clothes off.” Jeongguk looks anywhere besides him, crouching down and taking fake interest in the temperature of the water. He wades a hand through it, focusing on the rippling effect.

“I thought you’d never ask,” the hybrid teases, and Jeongguk can hear the rustle of his clothes as they come off. He’s not sure why he thought the hybrid would be wearing boxers or anything beneath his scrub pants, but he’s infuriatingly mistaken. Does a double take by accident when the hybrid pads into his field of vision while he’s still crouched down. Eye level with his groin.

It only lasts about a second, the actual sight of it, but the shock courses through Jeongguk and stays there. Burrowing into his chest.

The hybrid makes no effort to cover himself, clearly enjoying this. And Jeongguk feels like he’s the one standing there, stark naked, every bit of him on display. Heat crawls its way up his neck.

“What?” The hybrid prods, slowly stepping into the pool and sinking down so his back is facing Jeongguk. He hasn’t been this close to him in a while and he’s glad the hybrid can’t see him trying—and failing—to emotionally adjust to the proximity. “It’s not like it’s something you haven’t seen before.”

He’s right, Jeongguk had seen him without clothes when they first met. At his barest form. But he hadn’t exactly been concerned with his nakedness pressing into him at the time, more so who was the one doing it.

The pool is a lot bigger and deeper than Jeongguk originally expected, the hybrid’s lower half submerged entirely beneath the water. And, despite his large stature, he somehow manages to look so small inside of it, knees raised because his legs can’t extend all the way. If it was anyone else, Jeongguk would think it’s… cute.

As if he needed any more proof that the hybrid was faking his aversion to getting clean, the fact that he doesn’t even flinch when Jeongguk squeezes out shampoo into his hands and dives them into his hair says enough. Instead, the hybrid nuzzles into his touch, leaning back when Jeongguk forms a lather and starts massaging his scalp.

It’s odd, taking care of him like this.

Making sure he scrubs at the fur behind the hybrid’s ears because that’s a spot he usually misses, too. Scrubs a little harder when he notices him keen at the stimulation, releasing a soft groan in favour of it. Jeongguk admires the length of his hair that he secretly can’t wait to see dry because of how fluffy it naturally is. Another hidden part of him wishing he could run his fingers through the hybrid’s smooth locks, as well, without needing the excuse of a bath to do so.

Jeongguk dunks his left hand in the water next to the hybrid’s body to rinse it off before picking up the bar of lavender soap that Hoseok also placed inside the bucket, along with the travel sized bottles of shampoo and conditioner. “I’m sure you know how to use one of these,” Jeongguk says, tossing him the soap, and it lands in his lap with a plop. It’s a subtle jab at his intelligence, Jeongguk more resentful than he’d like to admit because the hybrid’s already mastering mental math this week meanwhile he still struggles to count proper change at the convenience store without the calculator app on his phone.

However, the hybrid holds it up towards him again. “I think you’ll have to show me,” he decides after a moment of silence, “otherwise, I might try to eat it. The scent reminds me too much of you.” There’s less sarcasm in his speech by the end, like he’s holding something back.

And Jeongguk wills his hands to keep moving, about to make a low noise in his throat but he cuts himself off with a mild cough. “God, you’re a pain in the ass.” A soft lilt in his voice remains that acts against his words.

He traces the soap along the hybrid’s broad shoulders at first—maybe applying too little pressure. Delicate. Rubbing it into the skin in a tender motion. Wondering what it would feel like if the bar of soap wasn’t posing as a barrier between them right now.

“There’s nothing wrong with a little pain,” the hybrid chuckles, but it sounds forced. He tapers off with a grunt and a small amount of water splashes out of the pool and onto the grass when he abruptly lurches forward.

It happens too fast for Jeongguk to pay it any mind, attention elsewhere. Because while one hand is still buried in the hybrid’s hair, the other is suddenly being enveloped. Cold and wet. Pruning fingers resting on top of his own, almost as if the hybrid is using the grip to stabilize himself. But, before Jeongguk can react or formulate a coherent response, the bar of soap is being plucked from his grasp. And the hybrid begins drawing tiny circles across the span of his chest—which seems to be rising and falling a lot heavier now.

He fumbles with the soap for a couple of seconds as it slips when he holds it too tight and he has to chase after it beneath the foamy water, a layer of suds coating his skin once it’s been retrieved.

Jeongguk observes him until he begins to move his hand further down, water sloshing around him more gently this time to accommodate his movements. Not wanting to find out which body part is the hybrid’s next target, Jeongguk opts to resume the motions in his hair instead.

The aroma of lavender permeates the air around them, powerful but not headache inducing. Relaxing him with every inhale. That’s why it’s Jeongguk’s favourite. He didn’t realize it was so noticeable, however.

He should’ve taken the hybrid’s heightened sense of smell into account, the way his receptors are most likely more sensitive and adept than a human’s. He makes a mental note to explore it further, so they can determine the span within which the hybrid can still detect a smell, whether faint or concentrated.

Definitely not because Jeongguk wants to see which scents he responds to the best. Which ones he prefers. It’d be purely for research purposes, of course.

Additionally, now Jeongguk gets what makes him such easy prey, why the hybrid finds it so amusing to toy with him. Probably able to sense his fear before Jeongguk has even become fully aware of it himself, something that inherently makes a hunt all the more thrilling.

But Jeongguk hopes it’s only the fear he can perceive, squirming in place as he rubs his legs together.

The hybrid has demonstrated that he’s a watchful observer himself, scoping out the terrain before deciding on a course of action, as any predator would. And Jeongguk’s heart rate spikes at the possibility of the hybrid wanting to learn all his weaknesses, to understand him in a way Jeongguk hasn’t been able to do with the hybrid, so he can eventually use it against him—what scares him more is the thought that maybe he wouldn’t be entirely opposed to the idea.

His suspicions and overthinking turn the lavender suffocating.

Since his hands are occupied, Jeongguk scrunches his nose to raise the glasses back up the bridge of it and uses his bent wrist to wipe at his forehead. With how flushed he’s getting, he assumed he would already be sweating.

The hybrid finishes using the soap and leans over the edge of the pool to dispose of it onto the ground. Jeongguk huffs out a breath, soaking his hands in the water to get the excess shampoo off, then drying them on one of the towels. “Okay, we need to wash this out of your hair. Let me just fill this and—”

He’s reaching behind himself to grab the bucket but the hybrid beats him to it. Without even a moment’s hesitation, he falls back and immerses his entire body—besides his legs—under water, albeit clumsily. Jeongguk flinches at the unanticipated stunt, fortunately not getting drenched in the process.

But the hybrid quickly remedies that, barely giving him any time to back away, much less to worry about the fact that it’s been about a minute since he’s been down there. As soon as he resurfaces, he starts shaking out all the water from his hair, head rapidly moving from side to side. It’s a complete mess and he’s not the slightest bit concerned that Jeongguk gets caught in the crossfire.

Droplets streak along the outside of his glasses, while his black turtleneck shirt bears the brunt of the damage—a huge wet patch covering the front of it. Unlike with the thicker material of his lab coat, the water soaks through his shirt, making it stick uncomfortably to his chest.

“What the hell was that for?” He chokes out.

Jeongguk can’t see how the hybrid’s hair has flopped over to cover his eyebrows when he’s finished, long strands sticking out wildly, but he does hear the excitement in his voice. And it makes being doused not as bad, though he doesn’t show it. “I wanted to see how long I could hold my breath,” the hybrid giggles, sitting back up.

Jeongguk thinks it’s well deserved karma when he has to pause and rub some leftover soap out of his eyes, whining at the sting. Removing his glasses leaves his vision partially blurry but trying to clean them with wet fabric only leaves behind smudges, so he hangs them off the breast pocket of his lab coat by the temples.

“Clever. How about we try it again but this time I hold you down myself.”

The hybrid seems entertained by Jeongguk’s crankiness, wordlessly repeating what he’d done with the shampoo with the conditioner, as if he knows he’s not getting Jeongguk’s help from here on out after what he pulled. 

Five minutes later and the hybrid’s standing, having calmly cleaned himself off this time without the added fanfare. Jeongguk doesn’t see him stepping into his space because he’s busy using friction to get his clothes to dry faster—he ends up with sore fingertips instead.

Jeongguk startles when the hybrid holds out a towel for him to take, thanking his amateur eyesight for helping him avoid the naked figure in front of him.

“You missed a spot,” the hybrid utters, transfixed as he wipes a droplet of water from Jeongguk’s face with a thumb, only utilizing the towel cloth right after like he forgot that was its purpose to begin with.

Jeongguk feels exposed without the glasses on his face, his flaming cheeks probably all the more visible now. Still, he can’t help but peer up at the hybrid from behind his lashes, hardly having to squint to see him properly because of how close he already is.

“Thanks.” He makes a move to grab the towel but it’s already being wrapped around the other’s waist.

“What, are you afraid of a little water? You look good like this.” The hybrid’s feet are inches apart from his sleek dress shoes. “ Wet , I mean,” he clarifies. Languidly peeling back the shirt from Jeongguk’s stomach to make his point, letting it sag back into place immediately after.

And the scientist sucks in sharply, breaking his trance to move across the room. Pretending to care about rearranging the scattered things on the table there. It’s like he’s been rained on with an onslaught of emotion rather than water. Jeongguk isn’t necessarily enjoying either so far. “Well, you’d look better dressed.”

He’s playing with the double sided desk mirror, aimlessly flipping it back and forth. It was one of the first things they gifted him when they were certain his destruction phase had ceased. Jeongguk wished he’d been there when the hybrid saw his own face for the first time, no longer having to rely on the reflection of the window to try and make out his features, but the replay he watched from the surveillance cameras was satisfying enough.

Jeongguk belatedly realizes that the mirror is lined up directly with the hybrid, who’s muttering a liar beneath his breath. However, Jeongguk rightfully suspects that the hybrid just moved himself there intentionally. Because he’s dropping his towel the minute they make eye contact through the mirror.

The only reason he doesn’t turn away panicked is because he angles the bottom curve just high enough so the image of the hybrid cuts off at the hips. Yet Jeongguk believes there still isn’t plenty of him being obscured. And, even though he’s moderately blind at the moment, Jeongguk could positively identify that shit eating grin being given to him from a mile away.

“This was fun,” the hybrid states freely, “next time we can try using an actual shower. Together.”

Jeongguk scoffs, lighthearted but incredulous, “ Next time you’re on your own.”

How morally depraved of him would it be to use the cameras for that, too?

There’s little amusement in the way he considers spying on him when the hybrid consistently presents Jeongguk with the opportunity to do so without restraint anyway.

“Not sure how that’s gonna work when your friends still think I need to be kept on a leash.” There’s a twinge of disappointment in the hybrid’s voice, and that hint of sadness is what has Jeongguk spinning around to face him. Arms leaning back on the table. He wants to be looking at him when he speaks, wants a guarantee that the hybrid won’t misinterpret his honesty. Not this.

Because, despite everything, Jeongguk hates the possibility of him feeling trapped or defenseless in their care.

“I promise that isn’t their intention. You were… unexpected, yes. But now you’re m— a priority. They’re not trying to keep you locked away, just safe. They’re doing everything in their power to keep you safe .” Yoongi and Hoseok have been with him through hell and back, in both the professional and personal facets of his life. And this is no different.

The towel bunches up in the hybrid’s hands, makes the knuckles turn white. His eyes are wide, hopeful when he asks, “You, too?”

“Absolutely,” Jeongguk affirms, not missing a beat.

The hybrid letting out an alleviated sigh prompts Jeongguk to release one of his own, further soothed by the familiar sway of his tail behind him. “I get it, really. It’s complicated, but I don’t take any of it for granted.”

A shy smile, that’s a first. One he’d like to see more of.

“Is it something you’d be interested in?” Jeongguk doesn’t even know if he should be suggesting this, but he’s willing to take a scolding as long as Yoongi and Hoseok accept afterwards. Confident the three of them can make it into a reality.

With a tilt of his head, the hybrid creases his eyebrows together. “Is what?”

“Getting a taste of the outside world. Well, technically you’d have to stay on facility grounds the whole time, and you’d be under supervision as a precaution but... there’s this nice spot on the roof that no one knows about besides us.” Back before Yoongi quit cold turkey, they’d all visit the rooftop on a—more or less—regular basis, passing around a single cigarette until it would eventually die out on them. Every minute it remained lit was precious, permitting them an occasional break to relieve their nerves from the madness that went on below.

Up there, they only had one rule of business: regaining their peace of mind.

It’s been over a year since they’ve gone, and something tells Jeongguk it’s the right time to go back.

The hybrid conspicuously tugs the towel closer to his body, almost hugging it. “You’d do that?”

Jeongguk nods. “Yeah, I can tell Yoongi and Hoseok to—”

“I want you there,” the hybrid murmurs weakly, like he’s nervous that Jeongguk is going to try and bail again, “to show me. Please?” He sounds painfully sincere.

Jeongguk always uses his puppy dog eyes against others, but now that the hybrid does the same to him , he truly understands why no one can ever resist them. Instantly, he melts.

“I wouldn’t miss it, trust me.”

“I do,” the hybrid assures, “just like I trust the fact that you won’t regret us spending more time together.” It’s coy, the way he says it, successfully shifting the mood as if that was his tactic from the start. But the worst part is, that’s rarely the case.

He knows it’s something of dominance, sweeping the floor out from under him like that. Equal parts instinct and method. If there’s one thing the hybrid revels in, it’s his ability to catch Jeongguk off guard. To leave him breathless.

And, without fail, the telltale glint is back in his eyes. Jeongguk was wondering when it would return. The part he’s never prepared for, though, is the spark in his gut that comes along with it.

He pushes off the table, ignoring how the hybrid’s only dressed from the waist down. Light blue pants hanging low on his hips. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“What makes you think I am?”

The hybrid dips both thumbs into his waistband, tugging at the corners. Enough so that anyone can see where the faint trail of hair starting below his belly button becomes darker and thicker as it travels below fabric.

But Jeongguk is the only person there, and this show is entirely for him.

His gaze stupidly gravitates exactly to where the other wants it.

Jeongguk falls short, pursing his lips in aggravation. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re staring,” the hybrid snickers, smugly pushing his chest out as if to prove his point. When the waistband settles against his skin again, Jeongguk swears there’s an outline of a bulge. Can’t be sure without his glasses but he doesn’t want the verification anyways because it looks bigger than whatever he briefly saw earlier. If he allows his roaming thoughts to voyage into turbulent waters, he’ll be using that bucket to collect his fucking drool instead.

Jeongguk bristles, wanting the last word for once no matter how unconvincingly it might roll off his tongue. He strides across the room with purpose, reaching the door but also the hybrid who stands in front of it. The now cooling spot on his shirt provides some relief to his warming skin. Swiping his keycard off the floor from where it lays next to the hybrid’s feet, he comes back up slowly. Stands beside him, shoulder to shoulder, facing the opposite way as he presses the card to the touchpad.

As the door slides open, Jeongguk finally leans over to whisper near the hybrid’s ear, peering straight ahead—mostly for his own benefit. “The only way I’d stare is if there was actually something to look at.”

He speeds forward without sparing him a glance, walking faster when the low growl he hears tickles the hair on the back of his neck.

Hoseok and Yoongi are entering data into one of their laptops, talking amongst themselves, blissfully unaware that Jeongguk was most likely seconds away from getting lunged at. In all honesty, he can’t even say with full certainty that he would’ve tried to put up a fight.

It’s a side of him that goes searching for trouble where he knows he’ll find it.

Jeongguk places a hand on the back of both their chairs, bending closer to get a closer view of the screen, his head fitting right between them. The report details a disease outbreak they noticed in the herd of sheep they’ve been monitoring. It’s common among cattle, but none of the four clones obtained it while all the others did.

Hoseok slightly jumps from his seat at Jeongguk’s sudden presence but pats his head the moment he realizes who it is. Their paranoia grows with each passing day that they have to maintain this secret and it shows. “Hey, you. How did it—you’re wet.”

“Collateral damage,” Jeongguk confirms, “but at least we made it through.”

“Looks like Koo’s still got it in him to give you a hard time.” Yoongi bites the lid of his already chewed up pen with a bright smile, plastic hitting teeth. Force of habit. “Good for him.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes fondly, lifting a heavy bin that contains various measuring and medical tools—stethoscope, blood pressure kit, etcetera—off the table. “While you keep being bitter over the fact that Koo chose Jeongguk as his favourite, I’m gonna be productive and go set up.”

Yoongi playfully pretends to bite at Hoseok’s arm as his boyfriend ruffles his hair before heading towards the enclosure, and Jeongguk plops down into the empty seat with a tired sigh. He’s beginning to feel the remote ache in his arms from washing the hybrid’s hair. Yoongi pushes an open container of grapes to his side of the table, probably expecting him to only grab a couple, but Jeongguk gratefully takes the remaining two bunches, popping them into his mouth one by one, still reading over the document they’d been typing up.

Glaring, Yoongi angles the laptop in his own direction so he can continue copying down the information from his notebook beside him. “Please, help yourself.”

His grumbling settles when Jeongguk feeds him a few. “How many are we projected to lose from the control group?”

“A lot of them are older, so most. But we suspect the clones are infected, too, they’re just immune to any symptoms of the disease. Possibly carriers that can’t pass it onto others, either.”

“If we’re able to extract a cure from this, it could give all of them lifelong resistance.” 

Yoongi nods enthusiastically, tapping his pen on the table. “Hoseok and I were planning to call a meeting tomorrow with everyone to discuss a vaccine. We’ll work on the presentation while you’re in there with Koo.”

Jeongguk’s about to agree with him, nodding along too, but freezes at the realization. “What?”

“You’re administering the physical today,” Yoongi says, as if they’d mutually arranged this.

He couldn’t be expected to go back in there after how he left. Not today. Not if he wanted to conserve his pride. Instead of leaving with the last word he’d be tiptoeing his way in this time. Like a shamefaced dog with its tail between its legs. Begrudgingly, Jeongguk turns to where Hoseok is still hauling items into the bin, about to make his way inside the hybrid’s room. Glowering back at Yoongi, he whines. Petulant. “I thought you just wanted me to supervise?”

“I’m sure Koo would be a lot more comfortable with you performing it. And so would we. As much as I like him, I can’t get past the fact that he’s the spitting image of you. Feels weird getting that close.”

Jeongguk can sense the sweat accumulating at his brow, but doesn’t want Yoongi to detect it. “How do you think it makes me feel?” He complains through a mouthful of grapes, having shoved them all in at once to repress what he actually wants to say.

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad for you . It’d be just like touching yourself.” Jeongguk snaps his head up, and Yoongi immediately hides his face behind both palms. “Wait, that came out wrong.”

Jeongguk barely manages to simulate being appalled. Trying so hard to act scandalized that he doesn’t notice Hoseok rushing—practically running—from the hybrid’s enclosure. No bin in sight.

He mentally kicks himself for going off book, testing the hybrid in a way that deviated from protocol. He’d let the hybrid get to him. Had nursed a false sense of bravery that lasted a mere minute, and that now karma was surely making him pay for.

Remembering his glasses aren’t on after he ineffectively tries to push them up, Jeonguk plucks them from his pocket to wipe them down with his now semi-dry shirt.

He grabs his lab journal, with an attached pen, that sits on the far corner of the table, tucking it under his arm. It has brown leather binding with flower embroideries. Dedicated specifically for documenting details about the hybrid, so Jeongguk thinks it safer to leave it here every once in a while rather than to risk accidentally misplacing it somewhere else.

That being said, he doubts he’d even let Yoongi or Hoseok read some of the things written in there. Late nights are the reason for so many blank pages being marred by unspeakable confessions, ones that create permanent stains and can’t be erased despite how hard he scribbles over them.

He doesn’t dare tear them out either, though.

“I… I wouldn’t go in there if I were you, Gguk,” Hoseok murmurs, a little short-winded. Face blanched.

Yoongi shoots upwards, concerned. He examines Hoseok’s body, like he’s checking for any potential injuries. “Why?”

“Listen, the faster we get this done, the better. I have a nine o’clock date with my bed tonight and I can’t be late.” Actually, his date is with something that’s beneath his bed, but Jeongguk doesn’t need to clarify that part.

Pushing his chair back defeatedly, he paces towards the door. Again. This second time, the walk seems a lot longer. Dreadful. Shoes scraping against and scuffing the vinyl flooring. And yet, each step feels like it’s not his own, guided by a sentiment he can’t name or place.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” It can’t be that bad if Hoseok doesn’t physically hold him back to prevent him from going inside. Quiet chatter follows.

Jeongguk is too far away to heed his warning anyway, and it really wouldn’t have mattered if he had heard it, because he doesn’t catch the soft grunts floating through the air until it’s too late. Distractedly jotting down a few notes in his journal as he’d slammed down on the dashboard’s green button which had been seeing a lot from him these last few days.

And when the tips of Jeongguk’s shoes bump into the bin Hoseok had been carrying, he looks up. Ready to speak but instantly forgetting how to. The automatic door clammers shut and his jaw drops open simultaneously.

It’s something to behold.

A sight he never thought he’d witness outside those crystalline dreams of his, but now can’t bear to look away from. One he discovers is much more staggering in real life. Vividly surpassing the extent of his imagination.

The hybrid is braced against the table Jeongguk had leaned into prior, his back hunching over it compulsively. Almost contorted with how much it bows, curved at an uncomfortable angle. He’d dried himself off already but his body glistens with moisture still, a sweltering landscape of skin that invites idle hands to scour it. Warranting an equally heated touch.

Jeongguk’s fixation, however, is on what the hybrid holds in his own palm. Fingers caressing it with a frantic amount of pressure, unmistakably giving way to sought out gratification. Intentional in the way they curl harder around it.

His knot .

Round and swollen and bulging from the places the hybrid’s hand can’t cover all at once. Caged in such a punishing grip that Jeongguk thinks he can feel hints of it around the base of his throat, too. Lack of air sending the journal hurtling towards the ground. The knot shines with a different kind of wetness, the type that causes his tongue to rest heavy in his mouth, begging to lap it up.

Realistically, Jeongguk had assumed that the chances of the hybrid having one were slim. Rarely gave much thought to that part of his anatomy in the first place, in favour of his sanity and unreliable emotions. Perhaps that’s why his dreams filled in the gaps Jeongguk refused to piece together.

But what was originally only an illusion now rang true.

The main distinction here was that, unlike in his dreams, Jeongguk couldn’t freely reach out and touch it. Nor claim it for himself. It’s a forbidden desire he indulges in much too often when he sleeps, and tries to replicate with his toys when he doesn’t. Poor attempts to salvage what little remains of his shattered morality.

All of them pointless in the end.

The hybrid senses him, Jeongguk knows this. But it’s like he tracks his movements without even having to look directly at him. Switching between stuttered thrusts into his fist and calculated glances to the ground where Jeongguk stands, feet firmly planted. Though the hybrid hadn’t put his shirt on at any point because it still sat there, neatly folded on the grass, his pants were gradually coming off, anyway. Slipping down the plump of his ass with each flex of the muscles there as he quickened his choppy movements, ultimately forming a puddle of blue around his ankles.

Jeongguk wants to keep his reaction at bay, tries to conserve the stillness in his face as he does with the rest of his frame. But he’s too trusting in his own self-restraint, foolishly believing something could be done to muffle the abrupt whimper that inevitably tumbles from his lips. Cutting through the hybrid’s active whines that he was already memorizing—more than half the space in his head now invaded by him .

Jeongguk hastily holds his breath. Hoping that, by some miracle, it went unrecognized. Sinking to the bottomless depths of nowhere. But he knows that hope is lost when the hybrid’s ears jerk in response hardly a second later.

And it’s like a pin drops.

The air is vanquished from Jeongguk’s lungs with swift release, like it didn’t belong there to begin with, like it was usurping the place of something else that came with meeting the hybrid’s gaze, regardless of how fleeting their eye contact was.

His usual silver-grey eyes are now stormy, a cloudiness brewing as thunderous intensity swirls within them. Jeongguk thinks he backs away, or maybe he steps closer. Currently, he can’t be sure of anything besides the increasing hardness within his slacks.

The hybrid pivots his whole body around to face him, giving Jeongguk a striking view of his massive, dripping cock. Bands of precum soaking each digit, webbing in the spaces between his fingers, and coating the entirety of his dark red length.

It’s fucking huge. Thick.

Even without counting the knot that protrudes near its base, inflated to its full capacity, Jeongguk clenches at how easily the hybrid could ruin him. Unapologetically tear him apart from the inside out. Leaving him unable to utter a single sentence. The choice of whether or not Jeongguk could regain his voice back would be left entirely to the hybrid alone.

“What are you thinking about that has you turning all red, Jeongguk?”

The breathiness with which he speaks does nothing to eliminate the severity from his words, and it’s as if he’s pinpointing the exact moment a specific thought crosses Jeongguk’s brain—which is presently going haywire but surprisingly still functioning. The implication that he craves more than what he’s led the hybrid to believe can no longer be denied, his admittance most likely written all over his face.

Especially when the hybrid purposely slows his hand, using it only to stroke loosely at the tip. Teasing not just himself but also Jeongguk, whose fists wind around the fabric of his pants to stop them from stretching out into unsanctioned territory. Threatening to usher him into a situation he won’t be able to come back from. Then again, this technically already is one.

But Jeongguk’s reservations are shot to hell when the hybrid advances, stepping out from his abandoned pants and prowling forward to close most of the distance between them. His balls, full and nearly as substantial as the knot that demands attention, sway with every step. Hanging densely between his legs when they could be enveloped by a warm mouth instead. Hidden behind a messy thicket of coarse pubic hair that has Jeongguk’s blunt nails digging into his thigh.

He’s used to keeping it cleanly waxed near that area on himself, has always been with partners who at least trim. And yet, for some reason, the unruly hair the hybrid sports is something he wants to get lost in.

“You—touch me,” the hybrid suggests, eyelids fluttering. He looks infuriatingly pretty . “I could use a hand,” he glances at Jeongguk’s still straining fists, “or two.”

Jeongguk shakes his head, standing his ground like an idiot because, God, he can already feel the wetness in his boxers. “Not a chance.”

“How much—fuck, how much longer y’planning to last?” The hybrid slurs, swirling the pad of his thumb over the slit of his cock, hips aimlessly rocking back and forth, and Jeongguk is wondering the same thing, how much longer he’s going to last. “Acting like you’ve never thought about this. When it’s been the only thing on my mind.” He squeezes around the head with a hiss, letting go right away at the impact. But the tips of his fingers deftly trace along the underside of his cock when it slaps back against his taut stomach.

The way he shakes his head is so weak, fake. The way he bites his bottom lip in contemplation isn’t. “It’s not an act because I haven’t .” The monster under his bed says otherwise. It could share a different opinion on how Jeongguk doesn’t get any rest unless the image in front of him is his last waking thought.

The hybrid’s nostrils flare, a laboured huff sounding out. A crease manifesting itself between both eyebrows. “The first time I saw my knot, the first time I even realized I had one, was because I was picturing you on it.” He closes his eyes which gives Jeongguk the opportunity to admire how one of the hybrid’s hands wraps around his cock once more while the other darts further down to cup at his balls, lightly fondling them in its grasp.

Jeongguk swallows down a moan, silently urging his fingers to access his keycard. Even with his glasses, his vision glazes over. “Don’t,” he mutters. Pleads.

“Why not?” It’s playful, meant to instigate. “What are y’gonna do if I tell you that, if I had it my way, I would’ve fucked you in every corner of this room already?” Whining at his own fantasy, the hybrid speeds up the pace of both hands, a skillful flick of the wrist with his right and circular massaging with his left, and Jeongguk has no doubt that he’s done this plenty of times before. His legs press together but that only succeeds in worsening the tenderness there.

Rolling his shoulders back, Jeongguk tries to stand his ground but his knees feel more wobbly than ever. “What are you playing at?” If this had been a game to determine who was really the one in charge, there would’ve been a clear winner from the start. And it’s not Jeongguk.

The hybrid’s laugh is an airy little thing, casual yet mocking in the same vein. His lids peeling open to reveal a hypnotizing brightness in the midst of his smoky stare. “For someone who’s used to asking all the questions around here, you sure don’t answer many,” he taunts, exertion trickling through to his speech. As the hybrid’s breath hitches, he and Jeongguk dip their heads, eyes following the source of the progressively wetter and sloppier sounds his cock makes.

As if rising up to assist him, the end of the hybrid’s tail swishes to the front of his body, traipsing over himself attentively. Fur delicately mapping across resilient skin the more it surges from side to side.

Jeongguk thinks he’s seconds away from caving.

“But riddle me this,” he continues strenuously, “if your mouth says one thing, claiming you’re not my mate, then how come your scent tells me the complete opposite, hm? How come I can smell the arousal on you, Jeongguk?”

The overwhelming sensation bubbles over and they both snap.

Shoulders slumping, the hybrid comes at the same time Jeongguk is pushing his hands out of the way to touch him. Viscid, white ropes pumping from his shaft in abundance, shooting upwards to pave a long stream of come from the hybrid’s belly button to his pecks. His now free hand feebly clutching at Jeongguk’s in order to keep it locked on his chest, their fingers overlapping. The hybrid pants as he twines them together, intimate. And Jeongguk lets him.

He doesn’t stop coming entirely until a few minutes later, a few smaller spurts eventually glazing over the backs of their fingers, but neither of them seem to care. Jeongguk swears he’s in a daze, lightheadedness making itself known. Muted but definitely there. Messing with his ability to process what just happened.

All he knows is that a part of him feels… liberated.

Without thinking, he pulls back. The hybrid eyes him, as if readying himself for rejection, carefully moving away, too. But Jeongguk only separates their hands so he can smear the come across the hybrid’s flaming skin, mixing it with the droplets of sweat he so badly wants to lave over. Jeongguk rubs the translucent layer into the smoothest parts of the hybrid, too focused on how the lean muscles flex with every brush of his fingers—as well as the soft grunt he receives when they trail over his nipples—that he doesn’t acknowledge the hybrid bringing Jeongguk’s other hand near his mouth. Recognition hitting him the instant he senses warmth around his fingers.

The hybrid’s tongue curves and licks at every coated section of skin—and then some. Languidly sucking on each digit and swallowing his own come with unmatched enthusiasm, not breaking eye contact as he occasionally nibbles along the length of them, his cutely pointed canines grazing the bones of his knuckles. Bringing a slight sting that makes them jolt within his mouth.

After he’s diligently cleaned both hands, releasing Jeongguk’s middle finger with a wet pop that echoes louder than it should, the hybrid gives one of his palms a final peck. “I taste good... but you taste so much better,” he mumbles, vocalized by the deeper pitch that’s returned. “Fuck, now you even smell like me, too.” He presses the hand to his face for only a moment before dropping it.

Yet, somehow, it’s almost like it’s now a part of the hybrid. As is the rest of Jeongguk.

And that sends him spiraling, suddenly ambushed by a cacophony of mate and submit. Shouts of it pelting every inch of him—is that the hybrid’s voice or his own?—perforating the actually quiet atmosphere. Shaking him down to the core. But he can’t identify if it’s in an agreeable way or not.

The noise only amplifies when it looks like the hybrid is leaning in, eyes honing in on his lips.

So Jeongguk does what he’s always done best around him. He flees.

No real wit or reason to spare the hybrid before he makes his escape. Not even an attempt to pick up the long forgotten journal.

This time, when he takes flight, neither Yoongi nor Hoseok call after him. Simply offering him a glance of understanding. They might not know exactly what took place, but presumably they’re aware that it wasn’t a physical exam. At least, not in the medical sense.

Jeongguk grips his steering wheel tightly the whole drive home, foot pressing down on the gas a bit harder than usual. Driving with purpose.

It takes him a minute to bolt through his front door and even less time to shed his clothes.

He takes his toy’s knot that night. Finally. Inner thighs slick with the amount of lube he uses. Fluid gracelessly flooding his hole to aid the stretch he thinks is going to split him in half. It’s embarrassing how fast he comes after it sinks inside, how he’s crying out for a completely different cock when he does so.

Amid the ebb of orgasm, probably his strongest one in what feels like forever, Jeongguk reaches a newfound level of clarity—it’s not that he doesn’t trust the hybrid, it’s that he doesn’t trust himself .

♡ ♡ ♡

Avoidance.

A skill Jeongguk had found easier to master than others over the years. An intimate friend he relies on but also an enemy he constantly has to fight off.

More of a band-aid to his problems than an actual remedy. An automatic response that supplies him with some semblance of control. Unfortunately, it can’t be applied to every situation. Like the way Hoseok and Yoongi have been subtly spoiling the hybrid.

Jeongguk’s phone pings in the middle of searching for his journal—which he’s strangely misplaced—with an email notification. His monthly credit card statement. Every bill is accounted for but there’s one in particular that stands out, as it has for the past few months.

“When I said I didn’t mind covering the cost of his meals, I didn’t mean feel free to buy up every market’s inventory of meat.”

Neither of his colleagues look the least bit apologetic, especially not Hoseok, who crosses one leg over the other in his seat. “Listen, I don’t want to hear any complaining until you’re able to stare Koo directly in those big doe eyes of his and tell him no,” Hoseok says without pause, giving Yoongi a look as if telling his boyfriend to take his side in the matter or else. “That’s basically asking me to deny you of anything.”

“And it’s not like he’s able to digest much of whatever else we’ve tried feeding him,” Yoongi adds soon after, “Unlike someone we know who’s picky by choice, and yet still eats almost everything in sight.” His ears turn a shade of pink but it’s mainly because Hoseok, pleased with his answer, nods enthusiastically while ruffling his hair, and not because he’s fearful of Jeongguk’s response.

Grumbling under his breath, Jeongguk pauses, hand midway into his desk drawer where he keeps a small stash of snacks. Having such an odd and often irregular schedule requires preparation, and for him that means ensuring he’s always got food on hand.

So what if a packet of fruit gummies—specifically the peach flavoured ones—helps with his mood?

The crinkling of a wrapper is a dead giveaway but Jeongguk begrudgingly shoves it away, a frown painting his lips. Yoongi and Hoseok say nothing, simply raising their eyebrows in return.

They’re right, though. The hybrid has changed immensely over only a short span of time, but his dietary habits have gone from meat to more meat. And Hoseok’s thinning, weak resolve when it comes to him is something Jeongguk finds himself heavily relating to lately.

“You’re spoiling him rotten. No wonder he’s such a menace,” is what Jeongguk mutters after turning his attention towards the filing cabinet, reorganizing files that don’t need it, at a lack of anything else to say.

“Oh absolutely .” Hoseok’s grin turns razor sharp as he leans into Jeongguk’s desk, hands planted on either side; Jeongguk swallows, and Yoongi chuckles. “Though technically, since you’re the one who’s been paying we could argue the fact that it’s actually you doing the spoiling.”

Jeongguk scoffs weakly, waving them off. “You know what, I realized I don’t care enough,” he says dismissively, scowling at his desk. Organized chaos, Yoongi calls it, but that’s always been his preference.Untidy like the thoughts he harbours. Looks cluttered to others, but at least Jeongguk knows exactly where something is when he needs it.

Except now, apparently.

“Have either of you seen my journal? I could’ve sworn I brought it home, but it’s not there either.” He absentmindedly bites at the end of his thumb.

Hoseok shrugs, claiming he has no idea of a journal since Jeongguk always totes it around like it's something sacred to be kept hidden from them, whereas Yoongi doesn’t respond at all.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” Yoongi asks instead.

Giving up on his short-lived rummaging before everything turns into a real mess that’ll be hell to sort through, Jeongguk doesn’t push the subject any further. Yoongi and Hoseok take turns reminding him of all that needs to be done today, doing so while following Jeongguk out of his office and through the lab.

“We have—um, that thing, later on,” Hoseok utters quietly, careful to avoid being heard by any potential bystanders, huddling closer to Jeongguk. “You know, the view we didn’t want to miss?” He talks in coded words only the three of them can understand.

Jeongguk nods, willfully trying to ignore the sudden warmth in his chest. He couldn’t forget even if he wanted to. Not after seeing such hope and fleeting vulnerability in those grey eyes that had swarmed with skepticism when asking Jeongguk if he’d be there, too. Hoseok wasn’t aware he’d already been victim to the hybrid’s compelling nature more than once, and there was no reason for him to find out.

“I know,” Jeongguk confirms quietly. “I’m the one who suggested it, remember?” It’s not like his intention was to take it back—it was too late for that, anyway—but he couldn’t prevent the trepidation from slinking up on his shoulders and pressing deep.

“He’s been looking forward to it,” Yoongi comments offhandedly as they pass by staff, whose attention isn’t on them, and near the hybrid’s chamber. A quick glance at the file in his hands makes him let out a sudden chuckle, surprising Jeongguk in the process. “Ah, another thing that was rescheduled and has to get done today... Koo’s physical exam.”

Jeongguk stiffens, slowing pace until he falls behind Yoongi and Hoseok. “I thought you would’ve done that by now,” he counters thinly, hoping the waver in his voice isn’t too noticeable. “After I left, I mean.”

Hoseok glances over his shoulder, tossing Jeongguk a knowing smirk as he and Yoongi slide their keycards over the sensor. Another encoded message, but harder to interpret. “Oh. No. You did so well with his bath that we didn’t wanna let you pass up this opportunity, either.”

Jeongguk is certain the heat around his nape is now visible, ruddy cheeks an indicative sign of how flustered the idea truly makes him. It’s a small miracle that Hoseok and Yoongi don’t notice, busy chatting amongst themselves once the door opens and they head inside the secluded area.

Meanwhile, for Jeongguk, it triggers another set of vivid recollections. No longer reminiscent of just the promise he’d made the hybrid, but also of his fault in judgment—a reoccurrence that happens whenever they’re left alone together. A shiver travels down his spine as he recalls the sight of the hybrid’s arched back, the pale blue fabric puddled around his ankles when he’d fucked into his fist without so much as a stutter. His dripping cock flushed as he’d started coming hot against Jeongguk’s fingers.

The knot and Jeongguk’s undisclosed fascination with it. Wondering how the real thing would compare to its silicone counterpart. Just this morning, before driving to work, he’d taken his toy for a ride in the shower, whimpering into the damp tiles as every inch of its flared shaft sank inside him. Addicted to the feeling. It was nowhere near being enough, but a small victory and a sudden climax nonetheless.

He blames his trembling steps on being fucked loose and sore rather than facing the consequential, irrefutable truth that he’s mortified yet also thrilled to be seen by those intense silver-grey eyes once again.

He can’t avoid the underlying reality forever, but he sure as hell can try.

His plan was to make no mention of their last encounter. Jeongguk didn’t see a need to because it wouldn’t be happening again. He wouldn’t let it. Humans can make mistakes, prone to be led by impulse rather than sensibilities at times, but they’re also supposed to learn from them. That’s what he planned to do.

But Jeongguk should know by now that his plans have a tendency of getting fucked.

“Alright, Koo’s all set up and waiting for you,” Hoseok smiles slyly, handing Jeongguk the bin containing the same medical equipment from last time. “I just popped in for a second to say hi before you get your hands on him and he suddenly can’t focus on anything else.”

“As you’re probably imagining, he’s excited.” Yoongi doesn’t bother looking up from his clipboard where he’s writing notes, but Jeongguk can still make out the way his lips curve into a grin. “He didn’t even let us finish explaining the procedure because he was too impatient to know if there’d be a reward at the end. So I don’t doubt he’ll be on his best behaviour for you.”

It’s a simple standard check-up, something he’s administered to animals of all kinds since he started working with them. Yet, to Jeongguk, this seems like he’s about to walk in and be expected to perform open heart surgery on a critical patient. He’s not a surgeon by any means, but he is a phenomenal liar. It’s the only way he manages to appear unfazed.

“I’m guessing he doesn’t know that he’ll be getting one regardless. Well, two. Food and fresh air.”

There’s an unsettling feeling that sweeps through Jeongguk’s stomach right when he says it, at the harsh revelation that the hybrid has to be given these things instead of being able to take them for himself. As if a filling meal and time outdoors are gifts he should cherish and not basic needs he deserves to have.

“We’d rather you give him the good news,” Yoongi replies, guiding Hoseok towards the table where their research on bacteria and viruses lay sprawled out. They’d rather him do a lot , these days, it seems. Not that he’s objecting to it. On the contrary, Jeongguk thinks it easier to let them tell him what to do so that he doesn’t have to be the one looking for excuses to spend time with the hybrid.

So he stands there, awaiting further instruction that never comes. He’s always the one giving orders to his team, but in this moment he seeks guidance. Yoongi clears his throat when Jeongguk hasn’t moved from his spot. “Gguk, if you’re contemplating running off again, think twice. Because I will tackle you and drag you back.”

Startled at how he’s been caught, Jeongguk pats down his pockets, as though searching for something. “I’m just checking to see if I have a pen, relax.”

Neither of them are buying it. Okay, maybe Jeongguk’s only good at lying to himself . “Take your own advice, you look seconds away from passing out.” Hoseok’s accusation is paired with an air of concern. Yoongi laughs but matches his boyfriend’s sentiment.

Jeongguk replies with an indignant scoff. “Must be because I’m remembering how claustrophobic that room can get.” In more ways than one , he wants to add.

Hoseok rests his elbow on the table, chin tucking into his open palm. Behind him, Yoongi settles a hand low on his back, intimate and telling. “If that’s the problem then I’m sure wolfie wouldn’t mind learning mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. You know, just in case we can’t get to you on time.”

Jeongguk flips him off, walking towards the enclosure before Yoongi’s even done speaking.

The panel of glass is like the line between him and the hybrid that Jeongguk is practically incapable of drawing himself. Allowing him to peer inside without the certainty that he’ll be stared at, too. He likes being a mere observer, having no obligation to interact.

It’s why he watches the hybrid as long as he does, taking the chance to appreciate his figure while he’s running on the treadmill, a fair distance away from where he stands. Because he knows he’ll forego even a prolonged glance as soon as he enters.

Jeongguk swallows hard, gathering himself despite the recurring thoughts of what had happened the last time he saw that naked back. Realizes he’s being ridiculously unprofessional—although, that’s not strictly reserved for just today—and finally heads towards the hybrid’s room, determined to do his job as he normally would.

The door sliding shut behind him with a resonating clunk of metal hitting metal is something he’s prepared for. He’s used to the sound by now. What still stuns him no matter how often he experiences it, however, is how attractive the hybrid is.

From the way he’s acutely aware of Jeongguk without having to look at him, ears perked up as he inhales deeply, drawing in his scent, to how he clambers off the treadmill with a light bounce in his step. Stopping it altogether after switching out his brisk run for a light walk. He takes his time, slinging a towel over his bare shoulders in order to wipe himself down and wring out the dampness in his hair.

When the hybrid turns to face him, Jeongguk feels his chest expand ten times its regular size.

“Hello,” he croaks after a moment, hoping his gaze shoots up fast enough to not give the impression that he’s been staring.

But, instead of pointing it out, the hybrid seems to bask in it. Thrives off being admired. Wanted .

The similarities between them are plenty, but one thing Jeongguk wishes he possessed, too, is the way with which the hybrid carries himself. A coquettish demeanour he wears proudly without making it obnoxious. Evident in the way he saunters across the room and has a seat on his usual patch of grass, arm resting casually over bent knees, tail swinging to and fro in an idle fashion.

The average grey wolf can track their prey from several miles away before it attacks, with eyesight that’s twenty times sharper than a human’s. Jeongguk feels like that’s exactly what’s being put into practice, if the gaze attempting to pin him into submission is anything to go by. He chalks it up to instincts but he knows there’s much more behind it.

Between him and an elk, Jeongguk vaguely wonders which fresh piece of meat the hybrid would go for and feast on first.

“Hi, Jeongguk,” the hybrid states politely—and a little coy. He huffs upon spotting the bin, eyeing it with disdain. “Hoseok told me you’re here for my physical… again, since our previous session got cut short. I’m no scientist, but I don’t think it can get more physical than last time.”

Jeongguk licks over his teeth to take away from the flare in his groin. “It's nothing fancy today,” he assures him while ignoring his blatant prodding, “just a check-up to make sure everything’s in order. It’ll be done before you know it.”

The hybrid holds his gaze, once again sharp with intentions left unsaid. “I’m not scared, if that’s what you’re worried about. Not gonna ask you to hold my hand through it,” he chuckles, patting the empty space in front of him. It’s Jeongguk’s spot during their visits.

“I won’t bite, either,” he persuades, once he sees Jeongguk making no move to comply, his small canines glinting cutely. “Only do that when I’m hungry.”

Jeongguk doesn’t dignify that with a response, but he does have a seat and begins to sort through what’s inside the bin, hyperaware of the hybrid watching him organize each item with open curiosity. They’ve all been sanitized and some of them need to be handled with care, otherwise Jeongguk would’ve spread them out on the ground for him to get a better look. A thermometer, a tongue depressor, an otoscope for the ears, an ophthalmoscope for the eyes, a blood pressure cuff, a Holter monitor, and a pair of rubber gloves. Yoongi and Hoseok most likely skipped on the measuring tape and scale since the hybrid’s height and weight has been consistent for weeks.

“You’re not new to this part so we’ll breeze right through your vitals and move forward. Open your mouth,” he tells the hybrid as he snaps on the rubber gloves. “And behave.”

“When have I not?” The hybrid teases but complies, parting his lips to accept the thermometer Jeongguk places beneath his tongue.

“You’re right, I can’t think of a single instance,” Jeongguk mutters sarcastically, only to send the hybrid a weak glare when he does indeed bite. Not the instrument, but Jeongguk’s finger. Playful, of course, but enough to grab his attention.

The digital thermometer beeps after thirty seconds and gives a reading of the hybrid’s temperature. It falls within normal range as usual, no changes present to indicate a problem. Jeongguk examines his ears and eyes without a fuss—mainly because inspecting his retinas means having to stare directly into profound pools of grey, and holding the back of his ears steady while he checks them has the same effect that it did when he washed them there.

Jeongguk’s hand retracts quickly after that and it explains the hybrid’s current expression, a rather moody little pout.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how I’m feeling today?” The hybrid asks, gaze flickering down to where Jeongguk reaches down for a pen to jot down his temperature and the status of both his eyes and ears. His nose wrinkles as Jeongguk gets close again with the blood pressure cuff, securing it around his arm. “Those gloves smell disgusting. Can’t you take them off?”

Jeongguk flexes his fingers out of impulse, starting the machine. “No, I can’t.” He sets the pen and notepad inside his lower coat pocket, holding the hybrid’s arm down when he flinches as the cuff begins to squeeze. “Tell me how you’re feeling, then. Anything new I should know about?”

“You don’t normally use gloves when you come see me,” the hybrid notes, not one to let things slide easily. Observant to every change around him, as minor as it might be. Smiling in a way that advises trouble, he says, “Do you have the answer for that in your notes? Or are you just scared to get your hands dirty again?”

Sweat gathers around Jeongguk’s nape, the collared shirt a bad choice for today’s outfit; he feels hot. Exposed. “Hygienic reasons,” he declares simply. The hybrid’s blood pressure shows up on the screen’s device and Jeongguk repeats it to himself under his breath as he hits the off button so it decompresses, retrieving his notepad again. “Any drastic changes in mood or behaviour that you’ve noticed?”

The hybrid plucks at thin wisps of grass between his fingers with his free hand. “Nope. Nothing new other than the obvious—I’m bored .”

Jeongguk writes that down, despite knowing so from previous visits and briefings from Hoseok and Yoongi. “Would you consider it boredom or restlessness? There’s a difference between the two.”

Upon being around him, Jeonggguk would guess it’s the latter, the hybrid never being able to keep still for long before losing interest in whatever he’s doing. Like now, he goes from sitting to rolling onto his side, chin held in the palm of his hand as he stares at the muted television screen for a few seconds, tail curling over his hip.

“A bit of both maybe,” the hybrid answers honestly, a sigh mingling with the ever present growl that always leaves him. “Also, I can smell everything much more clearer than I usually would. It’s annoying.”

That’s something new. Jeongguk is aware of the hybrid’s keen sense of smell, but he always supposed it would help him. Function as a benefit. He hasn’t ever heard of it becoming a problem before, and that brings on concerns of its own. He’ll have to discuss it with the others later.

“Tell me more about it,” Jeonguk says softly, placing the instruments he’s already used back in the bin to make room so he can scoot a tad bit closer. “I’ll try to figure out a way to make it better.”

The hybrid’s nose twitches as he sniffs the air around them, gaze settling on Jeongguk. Specifically his hands. “Well, you smell like lavender,” he mumbles, pout deepening, “but you also don’t smell like me anymore. I don’t like that.”

Jeongguk chuckles, unable to help himself. He reaches over to run his fingers through the hybrid's hair without originally meaning to. Almost pulling back until he conceives how soft it is to the touch even over the gloves, a little damp from sweat still. “That’s because, unlike someone here, I bathe myself everyday.”

“You also smell like peaches today, though. Faint, but also really sweet.” Still grumbling to himself, the hybrid comments, “The scent is tolerable, I just wish you’d smell like me more.”

Jeongguk attempts to hide his blushing cheeks when realization strikes, pretending to cough into his other hand. How inconvenient that of all days for the hybrid's sense of smell to be this sharp it had to be on the day he’d spent a better part of his morning riding a dildo; lube dripping down his thighs.

Peach flavoured lube .

Clearing his throat, Jeongguk lies. A poor excuse. “It's a new hand sanitizer. More scent than alcohol. I’ll try to use less of it while we look into what’s wrong. Maybe it’s a seasonal change of some kind.”

He’s always taken back by how physical the hybrid tends to be when he’s around, often seeking him out to touch. Not because it’s unwanted on his part, but because Jeongguk has also started to like it. 

The hybrid makes a disgruntled sound when Jeongguk pulls away once again, keeping distance between them. However, not discouraged by that, he reaches for his hand and—

The glove tears clean off, no damage to the skin beneath. The hybrid spits the piece of—now useless—rubber aside, glaring down at it.

Jeongguk sighs, and he thinks it nearly sounds fond. He’ll have to carry out the remainder of this physical one handed now if he doesn’t want to risk getting contaminated by the urge to touch him with bare palms and indulge in the feel of him.

Careful as can be, Jeongguk has him lay on his back despite the hybrid’s drawn out reluctance. He probes his body for any irregularities that the hybrid might’ve missed. It’s difficult at first, his aggravated movements a minor road block. The hybrid is ticklish in some spots, endearingly so. Smooth skin dimpling under Jeongguk’s hand as he moves down his sides.

They both fall silent the lower it goes, ghosting between the hybrid’s thighs. Yet, neither of them act to put a stop to it when he lightly scrapes through the hair that leads to his groin. Grey eyes simmering with heat bore into his, as if daring Jeongguk to be the one to make the first move this time.

He doesn’t.

And when Jeongguk finally comprehends what he’s doing, how easily he falls under the lure of his own wants, his hand developing a mind of its own, he jerks back as if scalded.

On his feet, Jeongguk puts a safe amount of distance between him and the hybrid, needing a moment to collect himself. Feels caged in like this, not the first time the hybrid’s presence has left him this rattled, this unfocused.

How Jeongguk manages to get through the check-up is beyond him, head blanking at random intervals. The hybrid presents no changes, other than the concern about his sense of smell, and regains his usual playful charm after a few more assessments. Enthusiastic to test his strength and its duration when Jeongguk brings it up by having Hoseok carry in a set of different weights.

“Please, you’re going easy on me. I bet I can lift anything in this room,” the hybrid taunts smoothly, the look he gives Jeongguk lethal in its intent. “Could definitely lift you over my shoulder.”

Scandalized, Jeongguk puffs out his chest. Bravado in him swelling along with his competitiveness. Were this not a formal exam, he’d probably challenge the hybrid and see whose strength holds out in the end.

“Too bad I’m not here to get bench pressed,” he replies airily, not quite buying into these games. “Now, focus.”

Fervid heat mingling with the glint in the hybrid’s eyes, he saunters towards Jeongguk, no regard for personal space as he crowds him against the table that’s also closer than anticipated. A finger teasingly nudges Jeongguk’s glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You know,” the hybrid starts, voice a silken caress against Jeongguk’s skin, “if you want a real test of strength, there’s an easy way to settle it. But it involves no clothes and any one of these four walls.”

“You expect me to fall at your feet with that line?” As humiliating as it is, he almost fucking does. Jeongguk is weakly attempting to push the hybrid away but it’s useless, like trying to move a brick wall, body solid where it meets his fingertips. “It's not going to happen.”

The hybrid grins, and Jeongguk swears he can hear it, the subtle mocking as he laughs. “That’s what you said last time and look where we ended up. Anyways, I’m sure it already has.” He taps a finger against Jeongguk’s temple twice. “Right here.” Pulling back, he drags his feet over to the weights.

Jeongguk’s lips part but no sound comes out. If the hybrid truly knew what his dreams consisted of, he’d understand how painfully in the right he is.

Especially when he proves to be as strong as he claims. Lifting not an individual dumbbell, but the entire rack of one hundred and fifty pounds with ease, parading across the room with no trouble, pleased when he’s told he’s improved. In his past assessment, Yoongi has brought up suspicions of the hybrid’s ability to rebuild broken down muscle tissue—after a workout—faster than humans. Permitting the muscle to grow stronger without much physical reshaping.

And that theory was being proven true.

The only thing that’s left is to check the hybrid’s heart rate now that he’s cooled off, been given some water and slivers of meat as a treat for performing well. It’s clear he’s responding to stimuli with the same enthusiasm as their last encounter, which is a good sign.

The hybrid jumps up to sit himself on the table for the final part of the exam.

Everything so far has tested normally, but when he hooks the hybrid up to the Holter monitor, Jeongguk notes that something is off. Commonly, this type of device is meant to be used continuously over the span of twenty four to forty eight hours, but the hybrid detests the adhesive patches and all the wires so he hardly lasts a few minutes. According to Jeongguk’s cross-reference with previous recordings, his heart rate is several beats higher than it should be—for a hybrid clone, at least, whose resting heart rate is already more accelerated than both a human’s and a wolf’s.

“That’s odd.” Wanting to double check and write down the number for future analysis, Jeongguk peers at the monitor across from him, only to find that it's returned to normal. He swears it wasn’t that way a moment ago when he’d been securing the wires across the hybrid’s chest.

The hybrid in question growls from where he’s sitting, dangled legs swinging gently, a bit sulky and brooding now that he’s constrained and is required to stay still. When Jeongguk looks back up from the notepad, his ears have flattened to his head and his tail now taps against the surface of the table consistently.

“Are you sure you’re alright? Even with the physical activity you just did, your heart rate should not be spiking this much.” Jeongguk places his gloved hand over the hybrid’s chest to confirm the rapid beating himself, gauging his reaction. The monitor beeps faster again. “The only other explanation is that the machine could be faulty.”

Jeongguk removes his hand and, after a few seconds, the number goes back down. Frustrated at the lack of an accurate reading, he considers calling Hoseok inside to check the device before tampering with it any further, turning on his heels to head for the door. But the hybrid beats him to it.

“You smell off still,” he grumbles, accidentally nudging some of the wires when he stretches out his arms, exasperated. “And these are getting uncomfortable...”

He makes a move to rip them from his chest, but Jeongguk darts forward to stop him, his bare hand landing overtop of the hybrid’s this time, trapping it there. For such a biologically complex creature, he acts more like an overgrown puppy than anything else. “No, don’t—”

The sharp spike on the monitor is instantaneous. And so is the answer to the confusion over the hybrid’s abnormally fast heart rate.

“Oh,” Jeongguk voices aloud, staring down at the hybrid whose cheeks showcase a dark tint of colour to them. He’s— blushing ?

Oh .

He’s not sure if the hybrid really says it, spoken too softly for it to be properly recognized, or if Jeongguk just imagines it because he wants it to be said. Regardless, the word mate lingers between them. A comfortable silence that inhibits the room as they fixate on the place where they’re connected.

Another instance of vulnerability, except it’s exhibited by both of them on this occasion. And Jeongguk doesn’t dare move his hand, feels safe having it there but he hesitates. Taking the initiative himself, the hybrid uses his other hand to sandwich Jeongguk’s between his own. But not before dragging his fingertips across the back of it, adding a fraction of pressure once he reaches knuckle.

For all the teasing and trouble he puts Jeongguk through, it’s moments like these when he finds solace in the hybrid’s inherent genuineness. The trust he places in Jeongguk which lets him see the scientist as not just his creator, but rather a personal source of comfort.

A companion, a partner.

A mate.

Jeongguk understands, though he still can’t bring himself to accept that last one. And yet, his heart can’t quite contain itself at the prospect of it. Beating rapidly beneath his ribs, as if compelling him to acknowledge it. Loud enough to be heard in his own ears.

It’s a thought Jeongguk tries to bury over and over again that somehow always digs its way back out.

The way the hybrid lets his hand fall is enough to conclude the check-up, and Jeongguk’s chest lurches sadly when he catches a small apology immediately afterwards. Part of him wants to tell the hybrid there’s no need for it, to clarify that he doesn’t loathe his touch as he might believe. That, sometimes, when he’s alone in bed, he wishes they could always be this close.

Ultimately, he decides against it.

“Well,” Jeongguk says weakly, “since you performed well today, I’m sure you’ll be wanting your reward.” He delicately begins detaching the electrode pads from the hybrid’s chest, peeling them off one by one. Careful not to make contact with his skin.

The hybrid tilts his head curiously. “That depends, is it you?” 

Removing his rubber glove with a snap, Jeongguk blinks. Lets out a strained, “No.”

In response, the hybrid huffs, obviously disgruntled. Jeongguk wouldn’t put it past him to stomp his foot, too. “Keep it to yourself then.”

Jeongguk doesn’t conceal the smile that twitches around his mouth as he watches the hybrid glide himself to the other side of the circular table, turning his back towards him in favour of facing the wall. “What’s wrong now?”

“It’s called ignoring you,” the hybrid drawls, running a hand through his hair. “Decided to give it a shot seeing as how it’s something you like to do regularly.”

Jeongguk purses his lips in amusement even though the hybrid can’t see it. “Fair enough. So am I being ignored for the rest of the day?” He received a short nod, the hybrid’s crossed arms flexing against his chest. Even his tail has stopped moving. “And why is that?”

“Because,” the hybrid responds gruffly, “you’re stubborn.” 

Jeongguk breaks out into a wide smile behind him. He doesn’t know half of it. Not really. But his stubbornness must be solidly ingrained into his DNA because the hypocrisy with which the hybrid speaks isn’t missed.

Moving forward to crouch beside him, hands swinging between his parted knees, Jeongguk stares at the wall, too. Casually goes, “You’re right. And, since I’m so stubborn, then I guess you wouldn’t be interested in visiting the roof together this evening, huh?”

At first, the only indication of the hybrid’s intrigue comes from the sudden perk of his ears. Slowly but surely, however, Jeongguk discerns the way the hybrid's initial pout morphs into a grin. And when he meets his gaze from this angle, it’s hopeful, brimming with excitement and something Jeongguk can’t name.

The hybrid catapults off the table, tail swaying. “I get to go outside?”

Jeongguk bites his lip, returning the enthusiasm. “I told you we’d make it happen. Once everyone else leaves, this place is all yours. Within reason, of course.”

“Right, because of my safety. Or whatever,” the hybrid simplifies, still smiling. Though the look Jeongguk gives him is one of indignance, he hums, prompting the hybrid to continue. “And you’re really going to come?”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes, but nods gently. “I told you I wouldn’t miss it and I won’t. I’ll be there with you every step of the way.” He says that mainly because of all the fucking stairs they’ll inevitably have to climb.

And also maybe because he doesn’t want the hybrid to worry.

Knees aching, Jeongguk stands in order to collect the medical equipment and leave for the day, but the hybrid’s curling a hand around his wrist to stop him. Aside from the almost negligible difference in size, there’s really no way to tell their hands apart. A carbon copy down to the tips of their fingers.

“I’m not sure what’s wrong with me today,” he reveals, more to himself than to Jeongguk, thumb grazing Jeongguk’s pressure point. “I didn’t mean to be so… overbearing. Well, more than usual.” His smile is faint yet mischievous.

Jeongguk isn’t quite sure what to make of the hybrid’s heightened need to have him close either, which is already saying a lot considering how much his mood dips when they spend too long apart. It’s something he has to discuss with Hoseok and Yoongi, otherwise his dreams might continue to interpret things on their own accord.

His clouded mind hasn’t been a loyal source of reason for a while now.

“I’ll look into it, I promise.” Jeongguk assures, tenderly coaxing him to let go of his wrist, which he does.

Together, they calmly dump the instruments used during the physical back into the bin. Hoseok will have to come in and retrieve it later since he stores it in a different place each time for security. There isn’t much to pack up, anyway, but they silently take it as an excuse to hover. While the hybrid remains close to him at all times, he doesn’t crowd Jeongguk, but rather shadows him, always a step behind even as they head to the door where they’ll eventually split ways.

Jeongguk flinches when he’s abruptly spun around, coming face-to-face with the hybrid, back pressed to the door. They’ve been here before, in and out of Jeongguk’s dreams, and the parallels draw a hitched breath past his mouth. Especially because the hybrid begins leaning in, lips glistening from where he’s licked them.

Jeongguk should pull back, leave like he always does and file this moment away along with the others he tries not to think about—at least, not when he’s at work. An ode to his undying cowardice.

But, for possibly the first time, he doesn’t do any of that. Not yet. Finds himself leaning in, too, breath laboured and heavy. Prepared for the weight of lips on his own.

Except, they never come. A sense of disappointment Jeongguk never thought he’d feel so deep. Only slightly made better when the hybrid presses his pillowy lips to the scar on Jeongguk’s cheek instead of his mouth. But he's as surprised as he is devastated inside. Warmth traveling up his body so suddenly that his knees threaten to give out.

How interesting it is that of all the places available to kiss, he would choose to focus on one of their few differences; Jeongguk scarred where he isn't.

“I’ll see you later,” the hybrid murmurs once he pulls away slowly. Without looking away from Jeongguk, he plucks the keycard from his pocket and slides it against the sensor, clipping it back when the door beckons Jeongguk’s leave. The hybrid giving him an out, a chance to walk away.

Possibly granting him another small mercy.

Later arrives sooner than expected.

And the door that creaks ajar this time cuts through the silence in the facility. Manually having to be brought back to life after who knows how long of not being opened. The four of them pause their conversation momentarily, allowing its echo to subside and listening for any sudden movement. The noise makes the hybrid’s ears lay flat to his head, and the grip he has around Jeongguk’s hand turns bruising . Hoseok and Yoongi cringe when they realize they should’ve been more vigilant with it, instantly apologetic.

The hybrid had charged at Jeongguk with impatience the second he’d been let out of his enclosure, clinging to him in elation. He’s been denied the world beyond these walls for months, something so close yet repeatedly out of reach. Unattainable. And that’s probably what makes it apparent that he’s just as excited as he is apprehensive. Pressing against Jeongguk’s back first, then reaching for his hand and imploring him not to let go.

His usually confident stance now curled inwards in the face of newer surroundings, not entirely scared but definitely intimidated.

The choice to offer reassurance had been without question, and Jeongguk complied with the hybrid’s simple request; not letting go. Embracing the novelty of being able to hold onto him for longer than necessary.

Glancing over his shoulder as he starts ascending the first staircase, Hoseok peers down at Jeongguk and the hybrid’s joint hands and smirks, watchful of his feet but also their differing expressions. “Sorry about that, Koo, I’ll be more careful next time. Otherwise, I’ll let you chew off these clumsy, long fingers of mine, yeah?”

Yoongi scoffs out a laugh but he, too, apologizes. Rearing his head back to give the hybrid a small nod. “We usually use the elevator to go up from the basement level,” he reasons, “so this stairwell is basically just for emergencies now. But we made it this far. You can go up whenever you’re ready.” Yoongi moves aside so that he and Jeongguk can pass, deciding to hang at the back just in case.

The hybrid briefly sniffs around the area, a habit tied to instinct. Dragging Jeongguk behind him as he approaches the first step. Eyeing the sneakers that had almost been impossible to get on his feet after stepping outside his room. They’re a pair of Jeongguk’s that he hasn’t worn yet and he hopes they aren’t too cramped around his bare feet.

The hybrid doesn’t ease until he’s sure that there is in fact no threat nearby, peering up—mostly in awe—to determine how high the building goes. And only then does he settle once more.

Jeongguk bites his lip, fighting off a smile. “Right, let’s go, then.” He climbs the step to encourage the hybrid to do the same. “The view is perfect around this time of day, I’d love for you to see it.”

And that’s all it takes to get them moving, the hybrid’s liveliness restored.

The eight consecutive flights of stairs feel endless by the fourth floor.

Sweat collecting near Jeongguk’s temples while a shortness of breath makes every successive step more difficult. He’s glad to have the hybrid there to lean on—though he tries to make it undetectable—otherwise he’s sure he would’ve had to take a break by now. When the hell did he get so out of shape.

In his defense, stairs are the universal enemy.

“I need to start hitting the gym more,” Jeongguk chuckles, using his free hand to tug his glasses further up. The hybrid stares down at him with inquisition, then snorts as if Jeongguk’s talking nonsense. Lightly shoving him, he’s met with solid resistance. The hybrid, annoyingly so, remains unwavering.

“We can work out together some time,” the hybrid suggests teasingly.

He and Hoseok are fucking fresh as daisies, traipsing up the stairs without any issue. Meanwhile, Jeongguk and Yoongi have been ready to call it quits since the second flight.

“Man, fuck that, just leave me here to die,” Yoongi croaks, hanging onto the railing as though his life depended on it. Hoseok halts his skip to peek over the banister, down at where Yoongi is still a full set of stairs behind them.

“Is this your way of asking me to carry you up the stairs?”

Yoongi shoots him an unimpressed glare. “We’d plummet to our deaths if you tried to carry me anywhere .”

Hoseok nods, but smiles anyway. “At least we’d be together until the end?” He tries descending to meet him halfway but Yoongi’s quicker in running past him.

“Not if you can’t catch me,” Yoongi pants, a determined crease set between his brows. 

Hoseok follows after him, indeed catching up in no time. “Babe, don’t be like that.”

Throughout their banter, the hybrid hones in on the less than loving words being exchanged, ears twitching as he smirks. But he eventually gives up and side eyes Jeongguk, brow quirked. “I could carry you if you’re tired.”

“Are you purposely trying to show off your strength again? The physical is over.” Jeongguk plays it off with a giggle but a pop of his joints has him tempted to take the hybrid up on his offer.

“I don’t have to show off what we already know I have,” the hybrid counters smoothly, his tail brushing against Jeongguk’s thigh and startling him. “But suit yourself. I’m fine with this for now, anyway.” He tugs him closer by the hand, and Jeongguk attempts to ignore how clammy his own has gotten despite how that same heat between their palms does wonders to ground his fraying nerves.

The rest of their trip is smoother after the hybrid’s confession, and they eventually only hear murmurs of Yoongi and Hoseok’s race to the top.

When they’ve finally made it, pushing their way through the threshold that leads outdoors, Jeongguk has to lean against the brick to catch his breath. Taking advantage of that time to take everything in. Regaining familiarity with the sight of their personal alcove. Where the weight on their shoulders becomes less and breathing naturally happens easily.

Jeongguk tentatively tries to pull away from the hybrid, wanting to let him freely wander and explore, but finds it useless as he holds on tight. He gives him what he hopes is an encouraging smile and leads him away from the entrance, still hand-in-hand.

The rooftop on its own is nothing special, made up of concrete flooring and empty space, but what sets it apart for them is the view. Away from the pressure that comes with working hours that feel endless, they’re granted a stunning vista. An array of colors mingling together as the day comes to a close and the sun begins to set; burning oranges, pinks and hints of violet hues. 

Jeongguk guides the hybrid towards the cement banister—which reaches the height of their waists—letting him get accustomed to the sensation of gravel beneath his shoes. A different texture than the grass he’s used to strolling on.

The result is exactly what Jeongguk had anticipated. Better , even.

He watches as the hybrid draws in a deep breath and holds it in, closing his eyes while his chest grows big. His first intake of fresh air. It’s still clogged by the workings of the city that surrounds them, but it’s a piece of nature nonetheless.

And the hybrid seems to fit right in.

Hoseok and Yoongi are left equally as speechless as Jeongguk, admiring the way his cheeks glow beneath the subdued rays of sun, tones of pink casting over his features. Making them look more delicate than usual. A mild breeze billows through the hybrid’s hair, ruffling stray strands that Jeongguk wants to tuck back into place.

When he finally releases the lungful of air and his lids flutter open, all the hybrid voices out is a dazed, “Whoa.” Smiling as he does a full spin, appreciating the landscape. And Jeongguk can easily say he shares the sentiment.

Because, while the hybrid stares at the impressionable view, he’s looking at one that’s infinitely prettier.

Their hands gently disentangle from each other as they both take a hesitant step closer towards the edge. Jeongguk mirrors the hybrid when he stops there and peers beyond the lot of their building. He notices the hybrid’s gaze soften as he spots a not too distant treeline for the first time.

His eyes literally sparkle.

The sight of him is something so unassuming that Jeongguk has to clear his throat in order to rid himself of the stirring going on in his ribcage. Warmth seeping through the more he observes how the hybrid pays attention to the little things, like a lone weed that grows between cracks in the bricks.

He occasionally traces his own skin whenever the wind hits it, and wonder fills his gaze as light dwindles all around and the sky turns darker once the sun finally sinks beneath the horizon. The  hybrid’s grin graces his lips when he takes off into a run around the rooftop, arms spread wide. Inviting the world into his arms.

Jeongguk wishes he could be wrapped inside of them instead.

They don’t stay up on the roof for long, knowing it’s almost time for the security guards to start doing their rounds, but he and the hybrid stay back for a moment, telling Hoseok and Yoongi they’d meet them at the enclosure.

Jeongguk finds himself reaching for the hybrid’s hand first this time, bringing their palms together, thumbs smoothing against each other. “How do you feel? We would’ve stayed longer— I would’ve stayed out here with you all night—but…”

Trailing off, Jeongguk sighs, irritated that it has to be this way. The hybrid, however, simply beams at him, little crinkles forming around his eyes. Spheres of grey shimmering with mirth. He tugs Jeongguk close and ignores his sudden yelp at their close contact.

“Too risky, I know,” he utters without concern. Then, he adds, “It was more than I could’ve imagined and better than on the television, too.” A few stars are beginning to take their place in the sky now, filling gaps of darkness that the absence of colours has left behind.

Except none of them shine brighter than the hybrid himself.

Carefully, he leans forward to whisper against Jeongguk’s ear. “Thank you for doing this for me.”

And Jeongguk knows he shouldn’t say anything else, much less make promises built on uncertainty, but when he looks at his hybrid being so content with what he’s been given it makes Jeongguk want to give him more .

“I’ll take you to see the trees up close sometime. You’d love cherry blossoms when they’re in season.”

He receives a sheepish smile in return, nightfall doing nothing in order to hide the pink flush around the hybrid’s cheeks. Natural. “I’d like that,” he agrees softly, giving the sky one last parting glance. “They look pretty enough to eat.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes, spending their journey down the steps explaining to the hybrid how he can’t always eat something just because it appears to look good.

“Not even you?” The hybrid asks. And Jeongguk leaves the conversation at that.

By the time they return to the hybrid’s chamber, the facility is also dark. Jeongguk spies Yoongi hanging up his coat for the evening and Hoseok waiting for him by the empty vending machines, cell phone in hand.

“Lock up after you’re finished, Gguk,” Yoongi says in passing, throwing him a little wave. To the hybrid he pauses, holds out his hand and lets himself be scented, pleased when he receives no growl in response this time. “We’re making progress. Have a good night, Koo. Rest well.”

The hybrid tilts his head at him as he departs, then heads towards his room, Jeongguk tailing him. He’s grown quiet ever since they made their way back, and while Jeongguk hasn’t asked why, he has been observing the hybrid maybe a little too closely. Wondering what has him so thoughtful all of a sudden.

He gets his answer once they’re inside. After the hybrid has made himself comfortable by tugging off his t-shirt, tossing it to the ground by his usual patch of grass, and slinking down into his makeshift bed.

Jeongguk stares at him wordlessly, the grip around his keycard tightening. “I should probably go, too.” He flicks his head towards the entrance. “You should get some rest. It’s been a long day and you must be tired.”

“I’m not. Not really,” the hybrid admits, “I do have to tell you something, though. Something that’s been on my mind since earlier.”

Jeongguk prompts him to continue with a nod, assuming it's regarding the concerns about his sense of smell. “Of course, go on.”

The hybrid casually leans back on both arms, spreading his legs far enough to take up as much space around him as he physically can. Even from far away, he radiates a sudden air of authority that washes over Jeongguk, the gait of a predator.

“I’ll be needing a partner for my rut. I think something triggered it, and it’s coming sooner than I’d hoped.”

Jeongguk’s thoughts draw a blank, halting. He straightens up from his previously lax position. That’s the last fucking thing he could’ve expected to be voiced out. “I’m sorry, your what ?”

“My rut,” the hybrid repeats. “You know, that part of my biology you never bothered to ask about? Except, unlike you, I still have to deal with it whenever it happens.”

“I get it, I just—” Jeongguk sounds winded, and rightfully so. He’d been negligent in overlooking the topic, it’s true, but he never anticipated for the hybrid to follow a wolf’s nature in that aspect, too. Though, thinking back, the knot should’ve been telling enough. But Jeongguk had other priorities on his mind at the time. He’s not sure if he successfully hides the tremble in his tone when he speaks. “How would we even go about that?”

“I’m sure you don’t need for me to spell out how mating works, Jeongguk. Just pick out a partner for me and I’ll gladly handle the rest. Male or female, I don’t really have a preference.”

Jeongguk grinds his teeth, jaw tensing. He’s unprepared for this kind of situation all on its own, but the way the hybrid speaks about it, detached and indifferent, bothers him. And he can’t determine why . “I’m serious. You’re the only one of your species, to our knowledge. Fulfilling your urge to... breed would be virtually impossible.”

Jeongguk’s neck hurts with how stiff it’s gotten, and he’s circling around the words he really wants to say. Because he knows it’s dangerous territory. Could potentially put an end to this facade he’s been upholding.

The hybrid bites his lip, smothering a grin. “So what you’re saying is, you doubt anyone would be able to take my knot?”

Jeongguk’s face burns hot. “Biologically speaking, yes.” Anatomically, however...  

He rubs his legs together where he stands, willing himself to keep it together.

With nothing but a dismissive shrug, the hybrid lays down. No longer looking at him, but Jeongguk suspects his eyes are still just as piercing. “That’s a shame then,” he says airily, “but I don’t know if I’ll be able to manage going through it alone. So what would you suggest?”

The petulance returns, a hint of something darker this time as the hybrid challenges Jeongguk to provide an alternative when the obvious solution is staring them down. Like he already knows what’s going to happen, anyway.

Jeongguk seeks support from the door frame when he trips over his own foot on his way out. The force of imaging the hybrid’s knot again hits him like a punch to the jugular. Leaving him dizzy and senseless.

“I’ll—I’ll try to see what I can do for you,” he states almost drunkenly. But it’s an empty vow; Jeongguk doesn’t even know what the fuck he can do for himself .

Whatever the hybrid says afterwards falls on deaf ears as he absentmindedly stumbles away from the door—away from him . Heart unleashed from his chest and now caught in his throat.

He doesn’t check to see if a set of eyes are burning into the back of his head while he makes his way out because he can already feel them. They’re the same ones that follow him into his dreams that night. Persuasive in how they convince him with a single onceover.

And, even in the recesses of his mind, where his deepest desires reside, Jeongguk has never felt so exposed.

♡ ♡ ♡

This kind of conversation had caught up to them like a runaway freight train.

Jeongguk thought it would eventually sort itself out without needing to be addressed outright. And yet, as the hybrid had derisively pointed out, it was still a crucial part of his biology that had been ignored despite its importance to his health and their expanding research. All the warning signs had been there, asking Jeongguk to heed them. From the augmentation in his senses, to Hoseok and Yoongi’s cautionary advice, to the other large indicator that should’ve been considered.

Nowadays, what begins as a routine check-up has to be cut short every time they notice the aggravation present in the hybrid, something they hadn’t been subjected to in a while and thought he’d gotten better at controlling. Aside from being uncooperative and on edge, a mild fever has started to develop that won’t go down, but instead continues to fluctuate as the day dwindles on. The risk of Hoseok and Yoongi getting their hands bitten off hadn’t been worth it, which brought them to the conclusion that they’d been dreading to admit.

The hybrid would be going into rut soon, the time frame unclear but inevitable, and they would need to deal with it however they could.

“He’s going to spend it alone, right?” Yoongi asks once he takes a seat on the couch across from Jeongguk, Hoseok sat beside him and holding his now cooling cup of coffee he’d brought into the break room. To no one’s surprise, they’re all exhausted, running low on energy—and time—as they struggle to figure out what can be done about the hybrid.

Jeongguk himself hasn’t slept more than a handful of hours, attempting to tackle his own personal hurdles surrounding the rut. If not for the caffeine in his system he’d be dead on his feet by now.

“Of course. What other option do we have,” Hoseok answers, when Jeongguk still hasn’t. As though it’s an obvious choice. “It's not like we can bring anyone in for that, not without risking him and ourselves. And, even if we could, there’s a possibility that he’d wanna keep them around afterwards. Wolves don’t mate for life—hell, neither do humans—but what about him ?”

Jeongguk’s eyes flicker down to his hands where they clench beneath the table. He hadn’t contemplated that minor caveat at all. Would it be selfish of him to dismiss any chance of the hybrid having a partner to aid in his rut solely because he didn’t want to picture him with anyone else?

“But how exactly is he going to spend it alone? The purpose of the rut is to breed. To fucking put it bluntly, he’ll have to knot into something. Otherwise, it would be redundant, probably painful to him, and irresponsible of us to let him suffer through it.”

There’s a pause while they all fall silent, reviewing any alternatives, which seem to be none at the moment. None that are doable, at least.

A dull throb forms around Jeongguk’s temples that he attempts to alleviate by rubbing against them, but to no avail. He pinches the part of his nose that rests beneath his glasses. Just when everything was going so smoothly and it seemed as though the last of their troubles were over, they’re presented with this. Something that they’d overlooked, a mistake on their part that they needed to rectify.

Jeongguk’s thoughts are currently too muddled to sort through, and any memory of what would happen to male wolves—an alpha, no less—if they didn’t breed in the long run was lost on him. But he had a grim inkling that it wouldn’t be good.

When he determines that his head might just fucking explode from the pressure that continually builds, Yoongi speaks up. 

“We could... get him prepared the best we can since we don’t know when exactly this rut is meant to start, or what it entails,” he says, nodding to himself.

“How do we do that?” Jeongguk can’t help but cut across a bit candid, his own frustrations brewing. “Nobody can go in there if he’s on the verge of snapping at one of us. The most we’d probably be able to do is toss him a fleshlight like it’s a fucking bone, and that’s insane.”

Yoongi pauses, lips pressing into a thin line. “It technically wouldn’t be that insane if we got him one,” he iterates composedly. His chewed up pen has somehow materialized between his fingers and Jeongguk thinks he seriously needs to buy a new one. Or maybe steal one off a coworker’s desk. An act as criminal as the condition he leaves those pen caps in. “He’d at least have something to help him and it’s not like we’d be watching him use the damn thing anyway. He’d have his privacy.”

“How unorthodox is it that we’re considering fleshlights for our secret half-human, half-wolf clone?” Hoseok mumbles—more to himself than at them—while staring ahead. “Can this get any more fucked than it already is?”

“Unlikely. But, unless you have any other idea, it’s our safest bet,” Jeongguk mutters, stiff where he sits. “It would just need to get done quickly and discreetly.”

A fleeting thought crosses Jeongguk’s mind. How the hybrid would be required to get himself off with a measly silicone toy as he’s had to, also.

“I’ll do it. I’ll get it for him,” Hoseok asserts after a moment, hands resting on his hip while his lips fold into his mouth. Brows furrowed like he’s trying to psych himself up. Then, he holds one of his hands out.

Begrudgingly, Jeongguk gets the hint and forfeits his wallet—because of course he’d pay for this too—sliding it into Hoseok’s palm with a frown. “You have no problem going out for that? Really?”

He’s met with a casual shrug, Hoseok smiling as he collects the wallet and peels it open to search for Jeongguk’s credit card. “As if I haven’t bought toys before. You’d have to see mine and Yoongi’s collection to realize I’m a fucking seasoned veteran at this.”

Yoongi’s face heats where he sits and grumbles behind his palms, even the tip of his ears burning red.

Jeongguk scrunches his face into one of distaste, hoping he looks as disgusted as he feels. “Thank you for that completely unnecessary piece of information that will igraine itself into my brain for as long as I live.”

“Anytime,” Hoseok says happily, not wasting a moment before he stands up, smacks a loud, but quick kiss onto Yoongi’s lips and saunters off, musing out loud on how he’s going to treat himself to a gift on Jeongguk’s dime while he’s out, too.

Both Jeongguk and Yoongi say nothing to stop him, knowing it’s useless anyway. Despite the well-structured foundation that is his job, and the fact that he’s an asset to any research team, Hoseok is a free spirit. Doing whatever he pleases simply on the basis that it’s fun. It’s what they both love about him. It’s what made Yoongi fall for him like an infatuated teen. His energy is something few people can fully come to value.

“At least we have that settled,” Yoongi muses once he finishes the last of his coffee. Jeongguk agrees, but less enthusiastically, which Yoongi notices right away but misinterprets. “Hey, I know you’re worried because of the fever, but I’m sure Koo is going to be just fine. We’ll keep an eye on him.”

Jeongguk nods, though those aren’t exactly his only concerns. He feels irritated at the prospect of the hybrid being alone without that being his intention, and it’s something he can’t shake, never mind something he can confront right at the moment. Not with all that needs to be done in the meantime.

A glance at his wristwatch shows Jeongguk that one of those things is in precisely ten minutes, which means he has to go.

“I’ll be busy for a bit in a meeting,” Jeongguk says once he stands, collecting his empty cup, as well as Yoongi’s. “I’m trying to wrap up some loose ends for our issue with the sheep, so hopefully we’ll have something to look forward to in all this.”

Yoongi stands, too, and accompanies him out of the break room. “It should all work out.” He says, patting Jeongguk on the back, a mild gesture of support that means the world at times like these. “Good luck.”

He’ll need it, Jeongguk thinks.

Individual video calls are often more nerve-wracking than in-person meetings for Jeongguk. Must always be kept short and to the point. Applying for funding itself isn’t as smooth of a process as he’d like it to be. Mainly because of the wait, the months spent dreading whether it’ll be granted to them or not.

Jeongguk had submitted the necessary forms at the end of last year. He remembers the countless weeks it had taken to put together his self-authored research paper. Nearly twenty pages of detailed analysis outlining their project and yet he’d constantly felt like something had been missing.

Receiving the email was stressful enough, but opening it had been worse. Jeongguk had gathered his entire team that day, needing moral support to build up a sufficient amount of courage to read its contents out loud. And as soon as he’d seen the “Congratulations” written near the header of the message, Yoongi had only taken a minute after that to pop the champagne bottle.

The relief of it was short-lived, however, when it was evident that they’d eventually need to do it all over again. Sometimes, they weren’t as lucky. Corporations believing their work to be far-fetched and impractical. Aside from the one technology research fund they’ve maintained a steady partnership with for almost a decade now, it can be hard to convince other potential benefactors that cloning is feasible.

This time, the meeting is with the director of a pharmaceutical company, which specializes in the development of veterinary vaccines. Their herd of sheep had seen a drastic reduction in numbers after the disease had swept through and too many claimed lives. They’d tried to contain the severely ill animals apart from the healthier ones, but each one of them had gotten sick to some extent despite their efforts.

All except for the cloned sheep.

Now, the goal was to isolate the bacterium within the cloned animals to try and create the proper vaccine that would bring immunity to naturally bred cattle, as well. Those that didn’t have the appropriate immune systems or means to fight off this disease.

Jeongguk kept his notes beside him the whole duration of the conference call, but as it progressed he found himself no longer having to look at them. His issue wasn’t that he didn’t know the material—this was what he’d written his thesis on, after all—it was the fact that Jeongguk had trouble being taken seriously in his field of work. Because what proves to be more difficult than convincing someone of an idea is convincing someone to let you spend their money. And people often doubt how responsibly a scientist of his age would disburse sums reaching up to tens of billions of won.

It was a burden Jeongguk didn’t carry lightly, yet still used to motivate himself further.

He answers every question the director throws his way, resolving every uncertainty and ironing out any details they might’ve missed. Jeongguk’s team didn’t have the time to waste on following through with a formal application this quarter if they wanted to obtain a vaccine by next year, and so he’d decided to take his own initiative. With the support of his colleagues, of course.

By the end, their hour-long meeting seemed to go by in minutes. The director assures him that he’ll be taking everything they talked about into consideration and that the objective itself sounds promising. Jeongguk is restricted by his office chair when he tries to bow, but he does it anyway. Grateful to receive further evaluation.

He thankfully doesn’t hit his head on the desk but does smack his knee against it when Hoseok comes back into the lab waving around a plastic bag in hand as Jeongguk is finishing up the call.

No one can see what the bag contains, but Jeongguk knows .

Hoseok pauses by the doorway but upon Jeongguk prompting him to come inside, he does, shutting the door in order to conserve their privacy. 

“Howdy, boss,” Hoseok says with a grin, sitting over the edge of Jeongguk’s desk, bag thumping against it. “I got the contraband you ordered.”

Jeongguk sighs, bringing a hand up to rub at his temple. Maybe it isn’t work giving him frequent migraines but his colleagues. “I’m not even going to unpack how you’re more excited about this situation than anyone else is,” he mutters. “Just make sure it’s delivered to the hybrid as we discussed.”

Hoseok is busy swinging his legs to and fro, peering down at Jeongguk with a glint in his eye. “Oh, I did that already. He hates it all, by the way,” he says with a small smirk. “He told me to tell you that he’s not accepting any of it because you know he despises the smell of rubber and that he prefers lavender scented things. Oh, and peach apparently. When did we introduce him to peaches? He can’t eat those.”

Jeongguk is glad that, despite his initial horror, he manages to get a grip on himself in time. Otherwise, the pen he’s just grabbed would’ve snapped under the pressure of his clenched fist. That fucking hybrid.

“We didn’t, he’s just clearly decided to be extra bratty today. He’ll have to use them eventually, so it doesn’t matter what he likes,” Jeongguk sneers through gritted teeth, fighting off a heated blush. He eyes the bundle in Hoseok’s arms suspiciously. “If you gave him his things then what’s in the bag?”

Hoseok bats him away when he tries to peer inside, holding the bag to his chest. “It's best you don’t look inside, unless you really want an in-depth visual of mine and Yoongi’s sex life. Maybe it’ll give you some ideas.”

Jeongguk draws his hand back slowly like it’s been scathed, a groan leaving him. “I hate it here,” he sighs, but doesn’t press the topic further for his own peace of mind. “Make sure nobody sees that. Also—can I have my wallet back before you make another illicit purchase? You damn fiend.”

“You’re so boring, Gguk. I don’t get why Koo is so taken with you.” Hoseok’s pout does nothing for Jeongguk and he huffs in response, returning his wallet without any more protests.

Jeongguk doesn’t want to imagine how much all of this cost, but knows for certain that once his next statement comes in, it will most likely equal the amount of his rent. Living alone has more pros than cons but one major flaw is being responsible for all of the bills. Between covering the payments of the hybrid’s meals, his own personal expenses and Hoseok’s frivolous spending, he’s lucky to earn the salary he does.

While Hoseok stays back with the promise to hide away his purchase, Jeongguk leaves the office in search of Yoongi in order to give him a relay of the meeting, how it went and what steps they’d take moving forward if funding were to go through. Eventually, he finds him falling asleep in the small testing room that connects to the lab. He’s in the middle of running a diagnostic, test tubes being spun through a centrifuge while Yoongi’s head lolls forward.

Jeongguk clears his throat loudly once he’s close, his presence staggering Yoongi into sitting up straight in his seat. A glance at the clock shows it’s getting late, especially for those who haven’t slept. 

Gently, he nudges Yoongi's shoulder. “Hyung, you and Hoseok should head home since it’s getting late,” he insists quietly, “I’ll stay the night and keep an eye on the hybrid’s fever to see if it goes down any.”

Yoongi’s response is a series of short grumbled curses, but Jeongguk doesn’t budge, which prompts him to smile. “We’re a phone call away if you need us,” he reaffirms through a yawn, shutting down his computer and placing the test tubes back onto their corresponding rack after the centrifuge has stopped. “Well, Hoseok is a phone call away. I’ll be dead to the world for the next eight hours.”

Jeongguk chuckles, then takes over for Yoongi who idles by anyway, rubbing his tired eyes. “You can go now,” he tells him, flicking his head towards the door as he busies his hands with putting the test tube rack inside the small, cooling refrigerator they have off to the side. “I’ll be fine.”

Yoongi eventually agrees and heads off in search of Hoseok, but Jeongguk can tell that it’s done out of obligation rather than necessity. He wouldn’t put it past Yoongi or Hoseok to forgo sleeping in order to keep him company through the night. A sentiment that’s not needed, but appreciated nonetheless.

It doesn’t take long until they’re both changed and out the door, once again ensuring that Jeongguk knows they’ll return if he requires their assistance for any reason, no matter how late. “Take care of Koo,” Hoseok calls in parting, throwing him a little wave, “be nice to him, or else he’ll tell me and I’ll have to deal with you myself.” 

Jeongguk mutters to himself under his breath. How convenient for the hybrid to only divulge certain information of what goes on during their sessions together. Painting himself in a favourable light.

Without Hoseok and Yoongi around, the lab falls quiet, granting Jeongguk a shred of peace as he finds something to do to pass the time. He stops by the hybrid’s chamber often to check on him, but doesn’t find anything out of the ordinary, watching him carry out his usual routine but just a lot more sluggish. Until he grows tired and crawls into the makeshift bed.

The fever must make him uncomfortable, his temperature probably rising, because from Jeongguk’s periphery he sees the hybrid undress and toss his clothes aside by the second time he makes his visit.

The hybrid has made it clear in the past that he’s not ashamed to be naked, prideful in his figure. But Jeongguk can’t bring himself to mind it now. Knows the hybrid is doing it due to his restlessness and not simply to brag. Jeongguk looks away too slowly because he catches a glimpse of his ass.

By his fourth visit, time seems to have slowed, or maybe his own exhaustion is finally catching up to him.

With nothing else to be done that needs his urgent attention, once the hybrid is asleep for the night, Jeongguk pulls up a chair from the desks on the side and situates it near the hybrid’s enclosure, attempting to get some reading done. A hobby he rarely has time to indulge in lately.

It’s useless of course, Jeongguk has far too many things on his mind, but he does his best to ignore them in favour of focusing on the passage before him. Yoongi had recommended this book a long time ago, so it must be good, and normally Jeongguk would be invested in its plot, but can’t find the enthusiasm to do so tonight. Not when his gaze inevitably falls on the hybrid as he sleeps. From where Jeongguk sits, the ledge of the window lines up right below his figure.

It’s a restless kind of slumber that makes the hybrid toss and turn, bringing about a much more present sheen of sweat to his skin. His lips move, but Jeongguk can’t make out what they say, much less hear the words through the thickness of soundproof glass.

Whatever it is doesn’t wane, causing the hybrid to shift around his bed for a while, unable to rest peacefully. Jeongguk considers his rising fever to be the cause of his discomfort, and makes a note to find some kind of medicine they can administer to him if this persists, but that train of thought falls short when he looks up again.

The hybrid is asleep, that much is clear from his closed eyes, but not in a tranquil state. Ears twitching in time with a restless swing of his tail. He’s turning over in bed, a heated flush covering his skin. The pillow he’d been clutching onto is now wedged between his parted thighs, prisoner to an array of experimental thrusts.

Jeongguk swallows hard, lump forming in his throat. He looks away, tells himself that he can ignore what the hybrid is doing, that it’s natural and nothing to stare at. Nothing for him to stare at, at least. 

And it works for a bit as Jeongguk hauls the chair away from in front of the enclosure to focus on his reading, all but forcing himself to think about anything other than his hybrid and the way his taut back dipped into the pillow, or the way he’d spied a glimpse of his cock, not entirely hard yet but still sizable enough to fuck him senseless if he allowed it. 

If he were to cross that line.

Jeongguk stifles a curse when his thoughts fill in the blanks he’s been refusing to acknowledge for weeks now. Giving the faceless body in his dreams an identity, a name . The reason behind his sleepless nights and sore legs. 

He can’t quite sit still, skin itching where he forces himself not to look, to feign ignorance. The room feels charged with tension, and yet he knows it’s just him and his wayward thoughts making themselves present. Reminding Jeongguk that he can try to outrun them, hide as best he can, but in the end, the truth always has a way of catching up.

He tells himself it’ll be one final glance, just one more and then he’ll leave. Resigned to another solitary night of rough strokes and swift orgasms.

But Jeongguk’s gaze catches on something else this time. Amid the darkness in the room and the clutter on the far end table, he spots the discarded items Hoseok had bought earlier.

To the untrained eye, the clear packaging would be easy to overlook. Small enough not to raise any suspicions if left out in the open and attention were not drawn towards it. To Jeongguk, however, it glares him directly in the face. Translucent and shining beneath minimal lighting. Tempting him to come closer and scoop it up. To use it.

An untouched bottle of lube.

A tiny little thing that presents itself like it’s the greatest treasure one could acquire. Contains the right portion of substance to last any normal person a month or two. But, in Jeongguk’s case, he’s been running through at least one every week recently. Outrageously generous with the amount he uses each time he fucks himself, but more so when his dildo does. Addicted to the squelch of liquid as it’s forced back into his hole and also the feel of it once it’s gushing down his thighs when it has to make room for the toy. How it chills his entire body, inside and out, on entry because he never bothers warming it up between fingers.

It’s a poor substitute for the come Jeongguk wishes he could have filling him instead, but he can’t complain when just the sound it makes is responsible for many of his reckless orgasms.

And, suddenly, he’s moving before he’s even aware of it. Feet dashing towards the table at the guarantee of what’s in store for him—something that can’t be found within the pages of a book or the depths of an empty lab. 

Jeongguk falters as he reaches out, the usually buoyant plastic container seeming almost dense in his grasp. As if weighed down by the prospect of what he’s about to do. As if the added heaviness will make this decision completely his own, a commitment he’ll follow through on with a completely conscious mind.

He’s halfway through opting against it, believing even he can’t stoop this low, not at the facility he has to work in everyday. But Jeongguk makes a fatal mistake. One that seals his fate and leaves him with no chance of turning back. All caution thrown to the fucking wind—as maybe it should’ve been from the start.

His eyes—intentionally or not—drift towards the hybrid.

They settle on his naked figure that now dawns a thin layer of sweat, a glistening torso that has never looked so enticing. More importantly, they zone in on the mess between his legs.

The knot in Jeongguk’s throat is back, but it's incomparable to the one expanding at the base of the hybrid’s cock. Growing gradually with each frantic movement of his hips, which look desperate to fuck into anything besides the flimsy pillow that most likely provides little to no relief.

He palms over his own fattening bulge, unable to resist doing so like the flawed man he is. Holding the bottle of lube so tightly with his other hand that he’s surprised it hasn’t exploded yet. Because Jeongguk sure thinks that he might at any given second.

It’s quick, the way he stumbles back over to his forgotten chair, turning it to face the window that separates him and the bane of his existence once again. Just about flings off his glasses by tossing them onto the table where the frames smack against the surface.

He chooses to omit the fact that it’s not the hybrid who drives Jeongguk’s hand down his pants, not physically at least, but rather he himself. Spurred on by the sight he’s seen before, but hasn’t gotten enough of, not by a long shot—the hybrid losing himself to unchaste pleasure.

Jeongguk’s belt gets in the way at first, when he rests the bottle of lube in his lap and shaky fingers fail to allow him access. Cursing at himself for even having to wear one because his slim hips aren’t enough to secure the pants on their own. After what feels like an eternity, the buckle finally gives, loosening up around him and clunking to the floor as he hurls it aside.

Not taking into account how cold the metal chair would be against his skin, Jeongguk shucks off both his slacks and boxers in one go, hissing as soon as he reclaims his seat. But it’s not an unwelcomed sensation. Makes him clench at the shift in temperature around him.

His cock, already half hard, lays across his abdomen. And Jeongguk has half a mind to see what would happen if he denies it any form of stimulation. Especially now, when he already feels the pressure in the pit of his stomach. A glance at the hybrid, who’s still fast asleep but is also increasing his pace, has his cock twitching involuntarily. Wanting Jeongguk to move his hand over it at the same rhythm.

He snatches up the lube, instead. Momentarily having to dig for it when it falls along with his clothes. Like a fucking diamond in the rough. And the all too familiar snap of the lid makes itself known, louder now amongst the unsettling silence. Jeongguk faintly wonders what it sounds like inside the hybrid’s enclosure. How many noises, no matter how soft, swarm through the air in there. Confined when they should be reaching Jeongguk’s ears, where they’d be absorbed and appreciated.

His current position makes it difficult to reach underneath himself, and Jeongguk has to slump in his chair so that his ass hangs off the edge. It’s uncomfortable, somewhat hurting the base of his spine, but he couldn’t care less. Not when he’s immediately coating two fingers with the scentless lube—he always prefers peach, but he has to make do—and slipping them inside himself, meeting no resistance. Still stretched out from yesterday because he can barely go a full night without needing to have something inside of his hole anymore.

Nothing but a whore in his own right.

The realization has Jeongguk moaning, or maybe it’s the way his walls hug both fingers, pressing down around them. He keeps them still for a minute, basking in the utter bliss of partial fullness. Thinks he might come if he just stays like this long enough. Eventually, though, he moves. And the initial thrust of his fingers is seldom a painful one. But, even if it was, it wouldn’t stop Jeongguk from setting the speed he does.

It’s fast, almost harsh. Downright violent.

He knows he can take it. Likes to push his limits more often than not. Spreading his fingers apart inside himself just to see how far they’ll go. That thought has him adding a third, though not before he adds another dollop—that resembles more of a stream—of lube. Jeongguk can tell half of it lands on the floor but, somehow, that just makes everything hotter. And he has to bite his lip to contain the whine that threatens to escape. Mainly to avoid calling the attention of any wandering security guard that may be roaming the facility, because the chance of preserving his dignity has already been shot to hell.

The slide of his fingers is slick— messy , just how he loves it. That coiling at his core is ever present while he aims to sink as deep inside himself as he can, trying to reach the small bundle of nerves that always promises an intense release, touching every other part of his walls in the process. He considers the possibility of the hybrid being able to do it with ease. His hands are only slightly bigger but they make Jeongguk feel the difference whenever they wrap around his own.

Without a doubt, they’d be superior. Firmer.

Be it through his fingers fucking into Jeongguk or his palm wrapping around his length, maybe even his throat .

His cock, neglected and now leaking against the fabric covering his belly button, staining the white dress shirt Jeongguk still has on rather than actual skin, jerks in place repeatedly. Needily. Reddening the longer he willfully ignores it.

If only his flexibility was greater than it already is, then perhaps…

“Oh, fuck. Fuck .”

It’s the fourth finger which prevents Jeongguk from withholding his noise any longer, a punctured shriek leaving his mouth faster than he can stop it at how his rim struggles to fit each digit now. It always becomes more difficult with this many, sometimes even with the fifth. If he’d bothered to look anywhere else and hadn’t gotten so swept up in his rapidly approaching orgasm, Jeongguk would’ve noticed that he was not alone in watching the way his fingers move inside of him.

But he doesn’t.

At least, not until he’s on the verge of coming. Cock so desperate for release that Jeongguk’s hand still gripping the lube surges down again and practically crushes the bottle with how hard it squeezes. No real target or finesse to the action.

Jeongguk just wants to feel wet .

He misses the majority of his hand but the liquid squirts over the underside of his sensitive shaft, trailing down to drip against his balls. It’s cold but so fucking good. Powerful enough to encourage his thrusts even further. Jeongguk’s head leans back as he readies himself for the onslaught, muscles tensing. But just as his eyes are nearly closed, the body standing in front of the glass panel has them shooting wide open.

He thinks it’s a figment of his imagination, almost tempted to put his glasses back on to confirm that it is.

The hybrid’s stare is criminal.

Eyes digging into him more profoundly than his fingers do. Makes Jeongguk cease the motion of his hand altogether. The pair of lively grey irises ask him what he’s doing and why the hybrid isn’t involved in it. Challenging Jeongguk to proceed without him if he dares.

And that instills a new kind of determination in him. Fueling his fingers to move faster than before. Prompting his other hand to release the bottle of lube—which is already half empty—into the pile of forsaken clothes and coil around the head of his cock.

For once, Jeongguk isn’t the first to break eye contact. Continuing his vigorous rhythm while watching how the hybrid practically falls apart before him. Pawing at the window the more worked up he gets, the harder Jeongguk goes. Palms leaving behind streaks of sweat on the glass from how hot he’s gotten. His tail antsy behind him, wagging from side to side with a type of spirit it hasn’t shown at all these last few days.

It’s like he’s searching for a clearing, seeking out any possible route that leads to his creator.

Jeongguk would be worried that his temperature might’ve risen to critical levels by now if the hybrid didn’t seem to appear so unaffected by it, his focus evidently on Jeongguk and him only . And maybe it’s the way the hybrid’s gaze looks almost crazed, or the way his cock responds to the image of him in that chair, or maybe it’s a culmination of both that has Jeongguk rising from his seat.

He eases his fingers from his hole as he stands, other hand moving downwards to squeeze around the base of his cock this time. Jeongguk’s legs are more wobbly than he anticipates and he almost doesn’t trust himself to successfully take that first step forward. But his need to get closer to the hybrid pushes him, a phantom weight dragging him towards the glass.

The hybrid’s breath is equally as laboured as his own, both of them fogging up the window as Jeongguk leans his forehead against it for a moment. They’re an almost perfect reflection of each other, mirroring the desperation they have within, attempting to find an outlet but falling short. Impossible to accomplish.

Bodies unsatisfied because they don’t have one another—to cling to, to cherish, to fuck .

Which is why Jeongguk’s free hand, now entirely webbed with lube, scrambles to shove inside somewhere different—his breast pocket. Numb fingers retrieve the keycard from his lab coat, seizing it like it’s their last hope. Jeongguk raises his head slowly, hating how he can still somewhat see his own reflection through the glass. How it slightly obscures the person he actually wants to look at.

He’s adamant on changing that.

And with a single, decisive glance at the hybrid, Jeongguk is pressing the keycard against the sensory pad. Not a stranger to the sound of the door gliding open, but he is one to the purpose with which he enters this time around.

It’s something definitive, impulsive even. But Jeongguk is no longer scared to embrace it.

With his heart thudding so loud it’s a constant echo inside his ears, Jeongguk steps inside, instantly met with a scene most familiar to him. The hybrid on him as soon as he’s through the threshold, a vision of depravity cloaked in heat as he wraps his fingers around Jeongguk’s waist and hauls him close. Lips beneath his ear, a sharp inhale telling of the hybrid’s need as he grazes his teeth along Jeongguk’s jaw.

“You’re here for me,” the hybrid rasps, voice dropping rich and husky. The hands around Jeongguk’s waist smooth forward, then slide up his chest, curling around his neck to tip it towards him. “You came to me.”

“We always knew I would.” He’d been a fool to believe that there’d ever been a chance in resisting this to begin with.

Jeongguk shudders, finding his resolve before it crumbles into dust beneath his feet as he uses what little strength he has in comparison to the hybrid to shove him back with a firm hand, keeping him still. His chest rises and falls in quick succession, skin burning up beneath his fingertips. He’s as hot as Jeongguk feels inside.

Feverish as he slides off his coat and tosses it aside along with his shoes and his socks, Jeongguk leaves his shirt on simply because there are other things of greater importance to worry about. Like sinking to his knees before the hybrid, whose warning growl rings inside Jeongguk’s ears. A strand of notes vacant of any real threat.

The ground beneath his palms feels cool to the touch, but does nothing to subside the heat traveling up his skin as he crawls towards the hybrid, gaze lingering down his body, centering on his stiff cock, which beckons him to come closer.

It’s a test of the hybrid’s patience to deny him of what he wants, not allowing him the chance to bathe Jeongguk in his scent. However, he’s quickly changing his mind when a pair of hands smooth up his thighs.

Jeongguk marvels over them. How they’re packed with solid muscle and soft, fine hair that leads up to a darker patch surrounding his cock. He can’t help the way he leans in, nuzzling between the hybrid’s legs where he smells the strongest. Like musk, and something else Jeongguk can’t place, that makes him dizzy to have more of.

His palm encircling the hybrid’s cock can barely wrap around its thickness, and yet that doesn’t dissuade Jeongguk from bringing his other hand in to join as he languidly strokes the hybrid from base to tip. Dragging the foreskin over the flushed tip and downwards, his cock pulsing against his hold.

The hybrid lets out a groan that’s positively guttural as he stares down at Jeongguk, the way he thrusts into his fist progressively becoming louder as his cock drips with precum onto Jeongguk’s knuckles.

“You’re so big,” he croaks, mind drawing a blank. Torn between where to touch first. Where to focus on next.

Inevitably drawn by the way they linger near his lips, Jeongguk decidedly drags his tongue against the hybrid’s balls, then takes them into his mouth. Can’t fit them both at once without them spilling out so he praises one at a time.

The hybrid’s knees buckle but hold him steady as he tips his head back and cries out, the hand curved around Jeongguk’s shoulder now sliding up and sinking into his hair. Yanking.

“Fuck,” the hybrid gasps, angling Jeongguk’s head to the side so that he can watch the crude bulge of his lips as he sucks harder. “It's wet—your mouth—so hot.”

Jeongguk’s jaw aches, but he eagerly sucks each of the hybrid’s balls with fervor, only pulling off to lap at the drool his mouth leaves behind with a groan. 

“I know something wetter that you’ll like even more,” he rasps once he slides up, holding the base of the hybrid’s cock up to his lips. Sucking at the firm head, Jeongguk catches the next drip of precum on his tongue.

He must look outright filthy like this, on his knees and slurping around his hybrid’s cock like he’s never tasted anything as good as that, and yet Jeongguk rejoices. Particularly when he sinks down on his cock even further, knowing he can hardly fit the width in his mouth, much less its length. Choking him down with a hunger that makes the hybrid’s stomach draw taut.

Jeongguk pulls back but keeps his tongue flat, dragging it up the shaft and stopping to lick beneath the glans, determined to pull more sounds past the hybrid’s lips.

He immediately gets what he wants, the hybrid’s grunts melting in with the squelch of too-slick saliva and remnant lube when he strokes him once more. It’s a deep, husky sound pulled from within his chest, and Jeongguk gets greedy. Gets a little mean . Tongue meeting the crown of the hybrid’s cock and sucking hard .

It’s obscene, the way Jeongguk would rather have a sore jaw than pull off the hybrid’s cock for a second. Savouring the weight of it on his tongue, heavy and thick. A crude slide of his lips along the shaft and against his balls, Jeongguk leaves no part of the hybrid untouched, all but worshipping him with his mouth.

“ Oh— ” The hybrid’s brow furrows deeply as Jeongguk’s jaw strains and he eases his cock further down his throat, lips sealed tight around the base where his pubic hair tickles his skin. Experimentally, he thrusts forward and Jeongguk fucking gags. Gurgling wetly, drool slips past his lips messily. The grip the hybrid has on Jeongguk’s hair tightens as he does so again, this time slower.

Jeongguk coughs on the pull off, eyes stinging with tears. “Fuck yes, again ,” he croaks, voice a strained wreck. And yet, he’d risk never getting to talk again so long as he gets to have this—the hybrid building a slow, but deep pace as he fucks in tight, keeping Jeongguk’s throat full.

The hybrid thrusts in, finger’s threading tight into Jeongguk’s hair and tugging the faster he sucks around his cock, pulling a deep moan past his lips.

“ Baby ,” he rasps, eyes burning bright silver, hooded on Jeongguk’s face. On his tense jaw and wet eyelashes. Admiring the flush on his cheeks and hug of his throat as Jeongguk messily slurps around the shaft. When he pulls off, a string of saliva clings from his lips to the flushed tip, and the hybrid shudders deeply, chasing Jeongguk’s mouth with his cock. “More—keep going, don’t stop.”

“Say please and I won’t,” Jeongguk whispers, the squelch of his hand around the shaft loud as he strokes the hybrid’s length and mouths at the tip. “Behave and you’ll get your reward.” It’s a phrase he’s spouted plenty of times, now packed with an entirely different meaning.

He’s met with a deep thrust of the hybrid’s cock, and Jeongguk’s eyes roll with a throaty moan. Helpless, he slacks his jaw, takes more of his cock and goes lax into being handled so roughly—the hands in his hair lowering towards his nape and squeezing.

“I don’t say please,” the hybrid warns. The growl he utters sends a burst of heat straight between Jeongguk’s legs, his cock aching to be touched, too. Keeping him steady, the hybrid pulls out to the tip, then pushes in hard, relishing the way Jeongguk chokes and whines. “Not when this belongs to me, pup .”

Jeongguk’s vision clouds, and he whimpers, peering up at the hybrid as he snaps his hips forward, fucking into his mouth with intent—with a yearning that mirrors what Jeongguk has felt for weeks on end. A look seen manifested in his dreams.

The look of a true predator .

He responds with the same kind of thirst, fervid warmth licking up his skin as he moves over the tip of the hybrid’s cock faster, palms encircling the shaft and stroking messily. Saliva drips between Jeongguk’s knuckles and his lips, tongue and jaw panging with an ache, but he doesn’t slow. Doesn’t ease.

Except he’s suddenly being ripped away, the hybrid pulling back in time for the first spurt of come to land on Jeongguk’s mouth. He gasps but the seal of his lips over the tip is immediate, swallowing every bit that he can. It’s endless, dripping past his mouth and down his chin, but nevertheless he drinks it all up, happy to suck the fucking soul out of the hybrid until he sees fit.

Until the hybrid is hissing sharply and nudging him off, wanting to see the result of his work.

Pulling off with a gurgled cough has Jeongguk feeling dizzy, but it’s overpowered by a wave of satisfaction. Especially when one look at the hybrid’s cock shows that coming hasn’t affected him in the slightest, still an angry shade of red and twitching against his belly, glistening from his mouth.

Jeongguk swallows, wiping the excess come and drool from his chin to lick it off hungrily. Knows he must look as corrupt to the hybrid as he feels. A mess of himself, Hair over his eyes, lips swollen, red and slick as he attempts to breathe regularly, but fails. His neglected cock straining, untouched between parted thighs.

Attempting to stand on wobbly legs seems near impossible with how heavy he feels , and yet Jeongguk is treated no lighter than a ragdoll the moment the hybrid hauls him into his arms. Gracefully sweeping him off his feet.

As though he weighs nothing .

In comparison to how he’s held and set on his feet gently, Jeongguk’s shirt is torn off his body with little to no grace, buttons scattering onto the ground, fabric in tatters between the hybrid’s fingers. His impatience to feel bare skin up against him is something that makes Jeongguk shiver.

The hybrid’s hands smooth down his torso, leaving no part of Jeongguk untouched, blunt nails scraping down his back. As though he’s attempting to embed himself deep inside Jeongguk, claiming every inch of him. Coaxing him to submit.

And Jeongguk would be a terrible liar if he were to say he doesn’t want it. Being claimed by someone whose need runs off carnal instinct to be closer. Willingly serving himself up as prey meant to be devoured.

He offers no protest when the hybrid’s touch becomes insistent, hard hands sliding up his shoulders. One curving around his nape, angling his chin so that when Jeongguk swallows, his throat bares to a set of smoldering silver eyes. 

It’s something he’d been anticipating, and yet when the hybrid leans in to bring his nose beneath Jeongguk’s jaw, he can’t help the stuttered gasp that leaves his lips. The hybrid drawing in his scent while simultaneously bathing Jeongguk in his own, another part of him being his for the taking.

Buried there, the hybrid seems to forget about his previous impatience, whimpering into the crook of Jeongguk’s neck. Nuzzling against his pressure point and most likely feeling how it throbs beneath his insistence. As if he’s able to tame a moment’s worth of ferocity with a single inhale.

But Jeongguk can’t do the same. Needs more .

Through a faltering breath, he cradles the hybrid’s head in his hands, trying to push it upwards even when he starts to feel the scrape of teeth along his collarbone. Willing to renounce the temporary sensation in favour of obtaining the thing he’s been craving for so much longer.

And the hybrid acquiesces, letting himself be guided, but at his own pace. Making sure to trail his nose along every inch of the way up, steady breaths gracing the skin in its wake. When their gazes finally meet, Jeongguk has to regain his balance by fisting his hands into the hybrid’s hair, tugging on the loose curls that cause him to let out a low purr. Invigorated.

The hybrid leans forward to ghost his lips over Jeongguk’s at first, a slight touch that’s only enough to tease. Making him feel like a caged animal being taunted by a dangling piece of food. So close yet just out of reach.

But the instant the hybrid flicks his tongue out, edging forward to trace Jeongguk’s plump bottom lip, wetting it tentatively, all of Jeongguk’s hesitation fractures. Dismantled in less than a second.

His reaction is feral .

Something inside of him unleashes as he tugs the hybrid closer and their lips finally crash together. A collision of teeth and tongue that both of them still try their best to savour. Months of tension and uncertainty compressed into one life altering kiss. Which quickly turns into five. Ten. Too many that Jeongguk ends up losing count as quickly as he loses his breath.

Earth shattering beneath them, even though they’re in their own private world.

There’s no sweetness to it. Void of any gentle nature as the hybrid grabs him by the jaw to get a deeper angle, matching Jeongguk’s hopeless movements like each kiss is one he needs to survive. While the hybrid tries to pull him impossibly closer, Jeongguk’s hands scramble. Clawing at every part of bare skin he can reach. Wanting to leave behind evidence of his own marks just like the hybrid has inevitably left on him . On both his body and something less tangible but equally as significant.

Jeongguk can’t be sure if the faint mewls come from him or the hybrid, but they only serve to rile them up further. Especially when their cocks flush together, pressing into each other with as much anticipation as their lips do. Slipping against their legs from all the precum and Jeongguk’s lube. The hybrid still incredibly hard despite having just come. And it makes him ache with the thought of having it inside of him.

Their bodies meld in a perfect fit, as if one was never meant to function without the other. And, now, Jeongguk curses himself for defying that. Because their kiss is messy, fucking filthy, but their movements are almost synchronized. Fluid in how they seek more.

Even when there isn’t a hint of space between them, they’re still too far apart.

The hybrid’s pointed canines sink into Jeongguk’s lip, pulling harshly at the already kiss-swollen skin. And it hurts so fucking good. He thinks the bite tears through, even draws pricks of blood, but the hybrid quickly laves over each wounded indentation. Spit smearing down to Jeongguk’s chin. The act apologetic but not remorseful because, instead of easing up, he only dives in harder.

Jeongguk lets his mouth fall open effortlessly, luring the hybrid’s tongue inside. Wanting him to taste and ravish the remnants of his own come. To take and consume. His arms flying around the hybrid’s neck when he eagerly obliges. He tries to keep up, to focus on meeting the hybrid halfway as the length of his tongue wraps around his own and the tip licks across the back of his teeth.

But when the hybrid’s hands slither down to cup Jeongguk’s ass, kneading at the flesh before rocking him forward, it proves to be unbearable. The thrust of his tongue matching the grind of their hips. A feeling so surreal that Jeongguk feels like he’s being fucked without it actually happening.

It’s not a kiss anymore but a claim.

A display of what awaits.

The hybrid tests Jeongguk’s withering restraint even more by using his fingers to spread his ass cheeks and dip a thumb dangerously close to his hole. Not yet pushing in. A reflexive clench at the exposure has a trail of lube seeping from him, sliding down his inner thighs where Jeongguk tries to trap the fluid. Embarrassed. But the hybrid is faster, collecting what he can and circling Jeongguk’s rim with it.

The initial intrusion is careful, a single digit that sneaks its way inside. And Jeongguk can barely focus on standing, much less kissing, when the hybrid presses in right away down to the second knuckle. Mouth unable to do anything besides heave out gasps of air, pulling away from the hybrid’s to reveal a string of saliva which still keeps them connected.

Hungry for it, the hybrid takes it between his own lips. Swallowing it down once his hand begins to move. “So tight around one finger, Jeongguk. What makes you think you can handle my cock?”

As if to prove his point, the hybrid adds another. Increasing the thickness inside of him. And this stretch is different. Nothing like what Jeongguk experiences when his fingers himself which is nowhere near as satisfying, not as debilitating, either.

He whines at the hybrid’s lack of leniency, at how his cock twitches when Jeongguk gains support from his shoulders. “Don’t care if I can’t,” Jeongguk pants, “Don’t care if it splits me in half.”

Leaning in after the hybrid groans and pushes in a third finger, Jeongguk whispers, “ I want it to .”

The smile curved around the hybrid’s lips is lethal. “Never thought I’d get to hear you say that out loud,” he conveys huskily, breath fanning against the shell of Jeongguk’s ear. “You’re going to look fucking perfect taking my knot.”

The fingers inside Jeongguk circle tight, jerking against his walls with maddening pressure, purposely not reaching where he wants them most. Driving him wild.

But the press of a fourth has Jeongguk hiccuping into his chest, grappling for purchase. He arches unsteadily into thrusting fingers which have Jeongguk seeing stars, pulse racing beneath his skin. Groaning into the hybrid’s shoulder as his knuckles catch on the rim during their withdrawal. 

Jeongguk cries out when, on the next thrust, the hybrid’s fingers graze against his prostate, the gland swollen and so fucking sensitive that tears pinch his eyes. At this rate he’ll come off the hybrid’s fingers inside him alone, and while he’s desperate for it, hungry to come undone, Jeongguk doesn’t want to just yet.

Wants nothing more than to come riding the hybrid’s cock, full of his knot. 

It’s with a whine of frustration that he reaches behind himself to curl a hand around the hybrid’s wrist and ease his fingers out. Doing so despite instantly missing the hybrid’s touch, clenching around air.

But he’s not left long without it, a pair of hands curving under his ass. 

Jeongguk is too busy seeking another kiss to be distracted by the hybrid steering them elsewhere, starving for more of his lips now that he’s been granted a taste. Moaning into the hybrid’s mouth, Jeongguk sucks on his tongue eagerly as their bodies slide against each other.

Even with the chill of night, the room feels baked in warmth, sweltered by their insurmountable desire that only seems to build. The world tips for Jeongguk, who’s suddenly being set on shaky legs, back meeting something solid. A glance over his shoulders shows him that the hybrid has brought him to the window.

“Starting to think that your infatuation with pinning me against a wall is getting out of control,” Jeongguk groans weakly, and yet offers up no protest when the hybrid presses their lips together once more, this kiss bruising in intensity, stealing his breath.

The hybrid nips his lower lip, canine grazing over the swollen skin maddeningly teasing. “And yet, I don’t see you trying to stop me.” When he pulls back, Jeongguk has no time to question what he’s doing before he’s being spun around to face the panel of glass, palms darting out to brace against the concrete ledge which reaches below his pelvis.

Jeongguk blushes as he spots the chair where he’d been sitting only moments ago, as well as his discarded boxers, both damp with the excess lube he’d used. His reflection makes him swallow, a faint blurry thing intermingling with an equally as blurry, but unmistakable figure behind him.

The twitching ears, the glinting silver eyes.

Jeongguk attempts to look away, to keep his lids shut, but is ultimately unable to as the hybrid curves his large palm around Jeongguk’s jaw in time with the solid press of their bodies coming together.

“Ever since I saw you I’ve been thinking about how you’d look just like this ,” the hybrid breathes, voice pitched low. He kicks Jeongguk’s legs apart, shaft hot and heavy where it rests between his cheeks, teasing where it should be. “Desperate to have my cock.”

Jeongguk’s lashes flutter. Distantly, he’s aware that the sounds leaving him are nothing short of desperate, but he can’t find it in himself to care as he writhes against the glass in a weak effort to slip the hybrid's cock inside him.

There’s no use denying that, for a long time, he’d thought about it, too. And Jeongguk doesn’t waste time doing so, simply pushing down the hybrid’s cock, wet with precum, to slot between his legs and against his clenching hole. He can barely think anymore, let alone speak as he coasts on a high that feels frantic, mind running blank.

That all changes when the hybrid crouches down and squeezes Jeongguk’s waist, bending him further so his stomach digs into the shallow ledge. Has no problem manhandling Jeongguk as he sees fit.

Jeongguk squirms. Feels the hybrid’s gaze settle on him as he thumbs his ass cheeks apart in order to marvel at the sight of his hole.

“So pretty, baby. So soft,” he purrs, gently pushing a finger inside him then easing it back. A shallow kind of torture. The hybrid fucks him leisurely, pleased at the way Jeongguk clenches around his knuckle.

Jeongguk gasps when the gentle ease of a finger soon becomes a bruising joining of two, sharply curling against his prostate over and over again.

He shudders, heart beating wildly beneath his ribs. Feels that he’ll snap, that the pressure licking up his cock will drive him to the brink as the hybrid continues hauling him to the edge and letting him have a taste of what it’s like to be unravelled, only to then refuse him.

“No, no, d-don’t. Keep going,” Jeongguk cries out, body trembling hard, his arms barely able to withstand his weight against the ledge, let alone support him where he stands. “Please, please just fuck me.”

He’s silenced instantly, gentle hands sifting through Jeongguk’s hair as the hybrid rises back up. Curling a hand around his own cock to circle the tip against Jeongguk’s hole, barely pressing in.

“It’s okay, baby,” the hybrid shushes, nose rubbing to and from against Jeongguk’s throat, no doubt treating himself to the scent of sweat that clings to his skin. “I’m here.”

Jeongguk’s plea for the hybrid to withhold on teasing gets cut short as the hybrid grinds forward and his cock slips inside him. It’s merely the fucking tip, but it’s enough for Jeongguk’s vision to flood with white. That single thrust shoving him forward, stealing his breath.

The sound that escapes him is gruff with need, unrecognizable to his own ears.

Jeongguk's entire body breaks out into a shiver as he comes from that alone—the blunt tip of the hybrid’s cock—his orgasm so blinding that some of it stains the glass before dripping down his body until it meets the floor. Leaves him heaving, unable to quell the race of his heart.

It’s too much. Has Jeongguk clenching as the warmth of his precipitated orgasm begins to burn too hot, his cock sensitive where it runs against the glass, causing him to hiss.

The hybrid smiles against Jeongguk’s skin, wolfish. It pulls him out of his daze, and he gasps when the hands around his waist tighten. Belatedly, it hits him that the hybrid is still inside him, hard and thick, and that he hasn’t come. Hasn’t even started properly yet.

“How cute, coming on my cock without me,” the hybrid coos, the tone of his voice dripping with sweetness yet disarming Jeongguk all at once as he pulls out of him achingly slow, the tip catching on the rim. “But you’ll behave now, won’t you, Jeongguk? Wait until your alpha’s had a turn?”

It’s the only warning Jeongguk gets, both the hybrid’s patience and mercy having worn too thin. 

With his hands smoothing up Jeongguk’s back to slither around his arms and hold them behind his back, the hybrid pushes in, a smooth but hard glide that nudges Jeongguk into the glass, his cry muffled against it.

“ Fuh—fuck ,” he screeches, the hybrid’s cock impossibly thick inside him as he pulls out, then rams back in, each roll of his hips controlled but unrelenting.

The pace he sets is brutal right away, and yet Jeongguk revels in the burn. Fucking loves the way he’s heaved onto the hybrid’s cock as though he’s nothing but a thing to be used. The way his arms strain, a burn coupled with the strident sound of hips slapping against Jeongguk’s ass. 

Almost barbaric.

A particularly violent thrust robs Jeongguk of his stability and he gasps, balanced on the hybrid’s cock as he grinds in tight little circles against his swollen prostate. Removing his grip on Jeongguk’s arms in order to wrap his own around his torso.

“You smell like me.” Every thrust is punctuated with a deep groan, the hybrid whining against his skin, inhaling deeply. “Fuck, you smell mine .” He lures Jeongguk back onto his cock so hard that he’s lifted off the ground, grip bruising.

Jeongguk tilts his head back, overwhelmed and mewling, the weight of the hybrid inside him one that he’s quickly become addicted to. He could do this everyday, no ruts necessary.

“ M’yours ,” he murmurs, barely able to hold himself up, each drag of the hybrid’s cock more incredible than the last.

A look at the glass shows nothing more than the faint fog of their mingled breaths dispersing as quickly as they came, and yet Jeongguk blushes, wondering what anyone might think if they saw him.

Hanging off his hybrid clone’s cock like he’s been made to keep it warm during a rut, moaning and pleading for more—greedily hoping that he’ll get fucked brainless.

The hybrid’s thrusts ease for a moment in order for him to fully set Jeongguk down, but even then he doesn’t stray far, watching with can only be identified as amusement as Jeongguk sinks onto his cock. Using his palms against the glass and the ledge for leverage to shove it deeper inside. 

Experimentally, the hybrid winds one of his hands back so he can slap it against his ass, observing the way it jiggles under the sting; does it again when Jeongguk whimpers, when his cock, so raw and red, attempts to harden against his belly.

“ Mine ,” the hybrid breathes with a low snarl, teeth grazing Jeongguk’s shoulder as he crowds him against the glass and fills Jeongguk to the brim, little to no distance between every sharp jab of his hips. 

It’s like music to Jeongguk’s ears, the obscene sounds their bodies make as the hybrid fucks him without pause, intent to bruise, bite and mark him beyond reason. He basks in the pleasure blurring in with the slight pain.

Sweat drips down the hybrid’s temples when Jeongguk risks a glance over his shoulder and sees him pause, lips parted, eyes hooded where they’re trained between their bodies.

Crudely so, Jeongguk’s hole feels sensitive and puffy, and yet the hybrid stares at it with awe, thumbing at his hole as he bounces Jeongguk’s ass on his cock.

“Want to—” he pants, dipping Jeongguk’s back, keeping his ass out, body pressed to the wall. On the next thrust, Jeongguk tenses, feeling the hybrid’s cock pulse inside him. “ Gonna knot you. Pump you so full, fucking fill you.”

Jeongguk lets out a sharp cry, breathless and a bit hoarse. Feels the hybrid everywhere at once. His fingers slipping into Jeongguk’s open mouth, his tongue against Jeongguk’s throat, and his cock deep inside Jeongguk’s ass.

The hybrid takes his time with it, alternating between grinding into him with stammered movements and forcing him down onto his cock like he’s trying to sculpt out a space for it alone. Permanently engraving himself so that the pleasure of it is never forgotten.

And then—Jeongguk feels it. Something he’s grown accustomed to in the privacy of his own home where nobody is watching. The sudden interruption that keeps the hybrid from sinking all the way inside him. A flared girth around the base of his cock, thicker than his wrist and much bigger than any piece of silicone. 

The knot .

It catches around Jeongguk’s rim, but doesn’t slip in as easily as the toy had, and Jeongguk whines. Wants nothing more than to be fucked on that knot, to ride it until it splits him open and leaves him ruined.

But first it has to fucking fit .

Frustrated, Jeongguk withholds caution, draws a deep breath and slams down onto the hybrid’s cock, the sudden stretch dragging a scream past his lips. It’s a fullness unlike any other, so thick inside him that Jeongguk can feel it when it throbs. Engorged to its limit.

The hybrid is every inch his animal counterpart, growling as Jeongguk enthusiastically accepts the knot. Guttural in nature, refusing to be tamed. An alpha staking his ownership.

“ Mate ,” he whispers heatedly, scraping his teeth over the juncture of Jeongguk’s shoulder. Merciless in the way he grinds into Jeongguk’s hole, thrusts no longer as fast, but equally as deep.

“ So fuckin’—thick ,” Jeongguk whines, struggling to form a sentence, let alone breathe. Every part of him feels full of the hybrid, to the point where he can't discern where he ends and the hybrid begins. “ A-alpha , please.”

“Fuck—yes. Say it again,” the hybrid snarls, rough and precise as he tenses and thrusts in deep, the sudden warmth of him coming inside Jeongguk rendering them both speechless. Hot and thick as he fills him, coating Jeongguk’s walls in what seems like infinite amounts.

A hand splayed flat to his stomach, they both marvel at the sight of the hybrid’s cock, impossibly broad and long, distending slightly against Jeongguk’s stomach. Forming a slight bulge against the hybrid’s fingertips as he massages his belly, and through it, his dick.

The crudeness of it makes Jeongguk dizzy, how his body has become nothing more than a glorified sleeve for the hybrid to sink his fat cock into and spill his hot come in.

And yet, he loves the feeling of being full like this. Would ditch whatever shred of morale is left—if any—to succumb to this all consuming pleasure.

He highly underestimated how much he’d love feeling connected to the hybrid, because as soon as Jeongguk feels him shift as though he’s attempting to pull out, Jeongguk panics and squeezes his wrist.

“Don’t go,” he croaks, feeling vulnerable and small. He can barely stand any longer, knees buckling under his weight.

The hybrid responds with a reverent nod, pressing into Jeongguk further and holding him gently. He’s still coming, cock throbbing deep inside him, but he doesn’t thrust in. Not now. Content to rub the bulge around Jeongguk’s stomach.

“Couldn’t even if I wanted to,” the hybrid chuckles tiredly.

Jeongguk can’t pinpoint the exact reasoning for his words, whether they stem from the evident knot which keeps them locked together or if the hybrid says it because, even when all of this is over, he’ll be the one still stuck here. Isolated.

Either way, it splinters off a piece of Jeongguk’s heart. And, in spite of his limbs already lacking strength, he holds the hybrid closer.

They wallow in the quietude of this fragile moment, for as long as it takes the hybrid’s knot to go down. The assembly of Jeongguk’s thoughts is brief, solely allotting him a chance to wonder what time it is. The only windows this far below in the facility are like the one Jeongguk hasn’t quit staring at, the accusatory glass which exclusively holds confirmation of his transgressions. A view of his liability and not of the outside world that dictates how many more hours of night remain.

The window is stained in his come that Jeongguk wishes he could scrub off—but with his tongue.

Up until now, he hasn’t lost sight of his priority, which is currently twitching back to life inside of him before it’s even softened completely. Jeongguk abandoned all his principles and incertitude when he stepped past that threshold, and the hybrid’s cock is a subtle reminder of where his concern should really be.

It wipes the negativity away along with any other thought Jeongguk is in the middle of composing.

The tangled, damp curls belonging to the hybrid’s tawny brown hair tickle at his shoulder. A tender caress compared to the remark that leaves his beautifully sordid mouth. “Wish everyone were here to see you like this, watching you through the same window you use to watch me ,” he professes, pulling backwards on Jeongguk’s hips so that he’s forced to stand on his tiptoes. “Their boss, taking cock. Fucking it so well. They’ll think you created me just so you could hang off my knot.”

It’s like the hybrid wasted no time on recovering, as if his only motive to keep going is the promise of Jeongguk’s undoing. Something he apparently determines they’re far from achieving because the rocking thrusts pick back up and immediately have Jeongguk squirming. His knot has deflated—probably as much as it can during a rut—but that doesn’t mean it feels any less monstrous.

“Sore… please,” he whines pitifully. Trying to twist in the hybrid’s hold. Ends up curling his toes when the motion causes the slightly bulging base to snag on his rim. He hisses. Not because it hurts but because it’s fucking divine. Upset that he wants more. Always does when it’s relating to him.

“Have to move,” the hybrid says meekly, canines skirting over the goosebumps scattered along the back of his neck. “To breed … Want you filled for days, right here—”

His tail curls forward, swiping across Jeongguk’s abdomen before wrapping around his stomach like it’s cradling something precious. The hybrid sounds delirious, wantonly speaking about fantasies that are doomed to be just that. A fantasy. He’s aware that it isn’t possible, knows because Jeongguk told him. They aren’t his words but the voiced out desires of his wolf, an alpha— his alpha—chasing absolute claim.

So why does the absurdity of it spur all the blood to rush to Jeongguk’s cock? If there’s no future to the idea, why does he ignore the protest of his stretched out hole and silently entreat the hybrid to fuck him faster rather than contradict him?

Jeongguk thinks the explanation lies in the way he throws his head back, exposing his own jugular but taking that opportunity to bite at the hybrid’s instead. Teeth dull and infinitely less threatening, yet the aggression with which they latch on instantly confirms that a marring bruise will be left behind. Spot already blossoming with a tinge of purple.

Because a wild beast isn’t defined by pointed ears or large stature. Sometimes the best disguise is none at all.

And, under proper scrutiny, Jeongguk’s barest form is revealed. Not through his nakedness, but in connection to the hybrid himself. How he strips Jeongguk of his ability to conceal.

The bite elicits what’s nothing short of a roar, a hollow rumble following such an unruly noise. One he’s never heard but wouldn’t mind provoking again because it has him keening . A sense of self-satisfaction making a jaded giggle erupt from his chest in contrast.

Jeongguk finds himself on the ground before he can even react, thrown down without sympathy.

He hears the squelch of lube and come squirting out as the hybrid’s cock slips from him cruelly, generating an emptiness he now loathes. The abrupt loss more disappointing than painful. At least there’s no worry about how much trickles from his hole, not when Jeongguk anticipates being pumped with more than he’ll be able to carry by the end.

He lands on his knees along the expanse of grass and the mangled remains of his dress shirt that had been removed with such an uncaring haste. Blades of grass abrasively poke at the skin there but Jeongguk embraces it. A solid surface for him to dig into.

He doesn’t look back at first, avoiding any unnecessary distraction. Because, while Jeongguk’s mind is momentarily clouded by the new position, his body knows exactly what to do. An intimate response to the hybrid’s carelessness. Both of them intolerable brats at their core.

Jeongguk wants to show him that he doesn’t need to be told anything, or given any instruction. That he craves this just as much, on his own accord. Here to help him through his rut because of mutual benefit, to satiate each other, and not out of obligation.

The hybrid is looking to fuck, to mate without consequence. Jeongguk is hoping to get destroyed .

Moving onto all fours—adjusting himself so that his elbows are planted firmly and his legs are spread wide—Jeongguk finally presents . Lungs not processing air the way they should be at the irrefutable implications of his decision.

An act of total submission.

The hybrid growls behind him at the sight and Jeongguk manages to throw an inviting look over his shoulder. Goading him to come closer. To take what he’s so sure is his . Jeongguk has already handed himself over willingly, completely. But a twisted, promiscuous part of his behaviour still yearns to see the hybrid engage in utter pursuit of him.

Because the hybrid could easily blame his actions on instinct, say that it was an uncontrollable first rut that overpowered him and have it be true. But Jeongguk doesn’t have an excuse to justify this. Can only blame himself for the hunger that leads him to wiggle his ass, tender pink hole exposed and clenching around nothing, persuading the hybrid to do something—not that he needs any convincing to begin with.

“What are you waiting for, then?” Jeongguk rests his head on folded hands as he peers back, fixating on the glazed over eyes that bore into him. Spreading his thighs even further, he pushes more globs of come from his hole, feigning innocence as if it couldn’t be prevented, and that visibly angers the hybrid. Irritation overshadowing his features. Jeongguk moans at how unfairly attractive it is, cock plumping in interest. “Miss your cock, alpha... need it.”

And the ache in his groin matches the one in his chest as soon as the hybrid pounces, no hesitation nor delay. Jeongguk must make for an alluring sight with the way he attacks because the hybrid resists the temptation to fuck him straight away, like they both so obviously crave, in favour of delving his tongue near his glistening rim.

Jeongguk isn’t expecting it whatsoever and his body tenses with a high pitched mewl, airy yet jarring, before it unfurls under his siege. The hybrid, on the other hand, sounds fucking overjoyed. Tongue rough and warm as it diligently laps at the excess come and small amounts of lube that coat almost every part of his ass, some of it already smeared and tacky but the hybrid doesn’t seem to care.

The way he focuses on one area for a few seconds and then moves onto the next has Jeongguk whining, met with a combination of licks and harsh nibbles that makes his thighs tremble. Especially when the hybrid deliberately moves his tongue over his perineum, paying it special attention after noticing Jeongguk biting into the back of his hand when he’d previously swept over it.

It’s a combination of an ample tongue, deft fingers, and sharp teeth. A deadly trio that, when appointed devotedly, has the capacity to pull even the weakest, most choked out sounds.

The hybrid ravages him like he’s his first meal in days, but also treats him like a mouth-watering delicacy.

The accompanying noises are as primal as the creature who enacts them.

Jeongguk adopts a warped cry deriving from the hybrid’s persistence, shrieks tapering off into thinned out groans each time that skillful fucking tongue finds precisely the right spot to lick. Hands most likely littering bruises and redness everywhere his lips haven’t yet.

But then the hybrid’s mouth locates Jeongguk’s hole again and, in an evil scheme, sucks savagely. Starving . He tries to shut his legs, unsure of how much good that would even do him, but fails when they’re forced wider apart again.

“Y’sure about that, pup?” The hybrid taunts, easing up when Jeongguk begins to tremble too much. He sounds breathless yet the smugness in his voice prevails. “I think you’d be satisfied with a lot less. Tongue’s not even inside you and you’re already about to come.”

Jeongguk’s face is shoved into his hands, hiding his dazed expression which would prove the hybrid right. But the cock hanging between his legs can’t be covered, despite Jeongguk disregarding the way it falls heavy and full with the burden of his building release. Doesn’t want to think about the consistent flow of precum dripping from its head. He’s been wet ever since the hybrid only occupied his thoughts, but now that his whole body is on him, Jeongguk hasn’t stopped leaking for a second.

“N-no, not like this,” he gasps, back bowing into the hybrid’s touch, breaking faith with his words. “Your cock— fuck .” His petition is cut off by a tongue sliding past his rim, the ring of muscle expanding as it begins inching its way in and gliding against his walls. As it curls, Jeongguk accidentally tightens, making him feel every prod of the firm tip ten times more intensely.

The hybrid growls, greedily diving in faster. Devouring him like he did with the first fresh piece of meat he ever sunk his teeth into. Less tolerant but just as raw. “The only way I’ll let my come fall out of you is if I’m eating it out myself.”

Jeongguk short circuits, lust-addled brain malfunctioning as the rest of him strains for composure. On the verge of losing his mind completely. Sweat dotting his forehead when an unyielding amount of heat unfolds. He nods dumbly even though he knows the hybrid most likely can’t see it because he’s too busy licking him clean.

Too immersed in mauling his fucking ass.

Then again, the only thing in Jeongguk’s field of view is a blur of green and the back of his spit soaked hand. “Please… wanna take your knot after. Shit—won’t last if you don’t stop.”

Delivering a crude slap to his left cheek, the hybrid rises up for air, but his mouth never detaches from Jeongguk. Lips trailing softly to kiss at the place he just hit. “You’ll have to take my knot either way, baby. Whether you come now or not,” he simpers, teeth grabbing a hold of a chunk of his flesh. “But maybe if you tell me how much you want it... what you would do for it.”

The reply requires no thought, but Jeongguk still has to remind himself to breathe as he recites it. “Anything. Whatever—God, whatever you tell me to.”

With a single finger, the hybrid rubs over Jeongguk’s entrance, only dipping it inside up to the first knuckle. “For all the time you’ve spent wondering how someone like me can exist, I could say the same about you.” He hears a rustling behind him but is too weak to inquire what the hybrid is doing. He gets his answer when he feels the stiff length rub against his perineum. “Because I’m the one with a rut, yet you’re the one acting like a bitch in heat.”

He punctuates the criticism with a sloppy thrust, doesn’t even have to line up his cock for it to breach his ass. Ramming into him all at once.

And Jeongguk is left reeling.

Unable to defend himself—wouldn’t even know what to say if he could—against the allegation or the hybrid’s intrusion. Instantly rendered numb and speechless as a curdling scream is viciously ripped from his chest, which feels like it’s moments away from collapsing. The hybrid is more than accurate in his statement. There’s no reasonable or scientific explanation for why he can formulate a completely coherent sentence while Jeongguk feels like he’s possessed by a heat that isn’t there.

But that does nothing to diminish his depravity.

“Fuck, wait—it’s so— yes.. . take me. ”

The hybrid doesn’t bother stopping or even briefly pausing when he spits down on Jeongguk’s hole, saliva drenching his stretched rim to make the slide easier, now that there isn’t as much leftover come or lube to facilitate the entry of his massive cock. It still burns though, stinging deliciously with each drag. A friction that has his vision spotting.

Jeongguk’s upper body slumps into the grass, forearms immobilized and failing to hold his weight. His hands grapple for something, anything . Taking pieces of his tattered shirt between his fingers, even his teeth, and applying pressure. Ripping into the fabric further, wrecking it the same way the hybrid is doing to his ass.

It’s uncomfortable as he slides against the ground, shoved up and down the grass with each punishing stroke but also thrashing back and forth from his own doing. Attempting to get away from the onslaught, but only getting closer to it in the process. The slap of skin rings through the air, their bodies laden with sweat among countless other fluids that meet each time they do, but it’s nowhere near as loud as Jeongguk’s sobs.

His noises are ear-piercing, unfiltered regardless of the shirt he holds in his mouth. The material doing a mediocre job at muffling his frantically shrill cries. At this rate, he’s not even sure if the soundproof glass will be able to contain his surrender. And he’s not sure if it’s fear or excitement that coils in his stomach at the prospect.

The hybrid whines when Jeongguk clenches down, sounds so pretty when he makes those wounded little sounds. Adorably soft yet feral when he’s completely unrestrained. “Waited so long to fuck you. Not sure if I—if I’ll ever be able to stop anymore.”

Pressing on the dip of his back to bend him further, the hybrid acquires a better, more punishing angle that leaves Jeongguk’s mouth unhinged. Guts rearranging to make more room where there isn’t any. The hybrid propels his hips forward mercilessly, sheathing himself far enough that he strikes Jeongguk’s prostate without meaning to.

But he only continues jabbing at it after Jeongguk yells that it’s too much, feeding an insatiable appetite as he doesn’t let up or grant him any reprieve.

“Not sure if I can give up having you like this.” The hybrid lifts a leg from where it’s kneeling and plants his foot on the ground, somehow slipping in even deeper. Carving out a space for his cock against Jeongguk’s walls. “Was never gonna use that fucking fleshlight you bought me. It’s not the real thing. But look at you, pup. Shit. You’re basically my own personal toy already.”

Jeongguk feels like he’s floating, not entirely there as a sense of lightheadedness consumes him. Brain forgetting how to speak so it can focus solely on the sensation of his prostate being brutalized. Swelling beyond belief the longer it’s pounded against.

Even if Jeongguk were to walk—more like crawl—away from this immediately after, the physical and emotional markings would be there to remind him of what happened for days to come. He was stupid to think a piece of silicone could ever be on par with or even vaguely resemble the cock inside of him, much less the hybrid attached to it.

He can hardly remember what was said a minute ago, only registering the word toy and the feeling of wanting to be used as one. Ready to warm or fuck the hybrid’s knot at any hour of the day. His single role to satisfy and please.

Jeongguk would quit his fucking job to take the hybrid’s cock full time in a heartbeat.

“Why—why are you so huge ?” He squeals when the familiar stir settles inside him as the hybrid’s length plummets into his stomach again, no doubt forming that same bulge from before. A testament to how deep he is. But Jeongguk can’t bring himself to reach for it. If he does, there’s no way he’ll stand a chance at holding in his orgasm. Already on edge thanks to the mere idea of the bulge. “B-bigger than earlier.”

“Fuck, Jeongguk.” The hybrid turns relentless, motions no longer his. A slave to his own pleasure that’s suspended above them both. “S’because I’m thinking about how I get to keep you here for days, making you mine .” He plunges into Jeongguk’s puckering hole with vigor. “Over.” Does it a second time. “And over.” Again. “And over. Until you can’t fucking walk. Until the only way you can move is if I carry you there on my knot.”

Jeongguk’s own cock kicks against his abdomen, twitching uselessly at the picture the hybrid is painting for him. Flushed and sensitive and painfully erect. The underside rubbing against the grass as he’s situated flat on the ground because his legs are quivering so furiously, becoming increasingly unstable, that it’s getting difficult for the hybrid to abuse Jeongguk’s prostate the way he wants.

Held down by his entire weight, there’s really no possibility for escape. Jeongguk wouldn’t seek it anyways. Freely allowing the hybrid to manhandle him how he never allowed him to before. Maybe he wouldn’t have a problem living in an enclosure this size if it meant getting fucked dumb and torn in half by his alpha’s cock everyday. A fair trade-off in his, albeit hazy, opinion.

The hybrid’s pace grows frenzied. Ruthless. Like he’s got a vendetta against Jeongguk that can only be sorted by making him feel his cock all the way in his throat. And Jeongguk chokes as if it is. Surpassing even his own expectations on how deafening and ruined he sounds. Mustering worthless supplications that only stimulate the hybrid—and, by consequence, him—even more.

“I can’t ,” Jeongguk yelps, tears springing in the corners of his eyes, watering the fucking grass as they descend. “You’re g-gonna break me. I’m—”

The hybrid makes a noise in disagreement. “No, baby, not me.” Leaning down towards Jeongguk’s ear without slowing his hips, nipping at the lobe momentarily, he whispers, “My knot will take care of that.” Says it in this sensual tone that causes his ass to jerk backwards reflexively.

He’s impervious to any of Jeongguk’s pleas after that, thrusting faster with each one that begs him to stop. Impaling him on his cock like meat on a fucking skewer. A piece he’s sure to swallow whole.

Each stroke is definitive, salacious to its fullest extent.

But the hybrid can only last so long, wild and untamed, before he, too, is succumbing to the neediness. His cock ramming in hastily which only succeeds in making them both spiral. He’s anchoring himself on Jeongguk, who fists at the grass and tears it from the root, as the hybrid starts to pant and whine. A portion of him that always cutely resembles a dog.

Jeongguk can’t dwell on the level of endearment behind it, however, because the second the hybrid’s knot is catching on his rim, pinching into his hole which he thought was already shamefully screwed loose, he’s coming without warning.

And his second orgasm initially only triggers his lower half to convulse, giving Jeongguk a false sense of security that he’s too numb to even experience it fully. But as it rises and spreads throughout, his whole body is set alight. Wreaking havoc on every nerve ending and desolating each muscle it expands to.

Jeongguk goes cross-eyed. Vision tunneling before blacking out at random increments of time.

He doesn’t know how much come spurts from his cock, busy gathering his soul from where it pools on the ground, but it must be a lot if he registers correctly how the hybrid reaches forward to milk him of the rest. That, or he’s being meaner than Jeongguk originally suspected.

No matter the case, it wrings him dry. Leaves him feeling dejected as he treads the fine line of oversensitivity. Out of his own body.

“Keep going—please. Please ,” he hears himself scream. Bordering on insanity.

It’s excruciatingly arousing when the hybrid continues to deliver shallow, aborted thrusts. Also coming hard enough to throw him off balance, riding it out desperately while all Jeongguk can do is writhe beneath him and take . Howling when Jeongguk doesn’t realize that he’s contracting around the fattest part of the hybrid’s knot.

Unlike with himself, Jeongguk can tell how much come coats his walls because he can feel it. Load after sticky load. An amount barely plugged up by the cock trapped inside since some of it still seeps out around his rim. But the hybrid makes good on his vow, collecting the mess with his fingers before it drips onto the grass, obediently sucking it down along with whatever he garnered from Jeongguk’s spent cock, as well.

“You’re such a good boy, pup. Taste like it, too. ”

After he finally steadies his breathing, calming down enough to adjust Jeongguk onto his side so his knot doesn’t yank uncomfortably, the hybrid immediately coddles him. Inhaling his scent which is probably explosive at this point. And when his tail flicks upwards to wipe a lingering tear off his face, Jeongguk nuzzles into it as best he can.

“Could stay here forever. Inside of you,” the hybrid admits, mumbling the confession into Jeongguk’s hair where it simultaneously disappears and is stored away.

So he does.

Well, almost.

Forever lasts all of about an hour, the time it takes Jeongguk to fall asleep and rule this entire thing a pleasant, distant dream. Until he’s unceremoniously awoken by the hybrid humping his thigh with the rigid length of his cock, that is, snarling into the juncture where shoulder meets neck. Body pressing tightly into his curled up form as Jeongguk discovers that they’ve been moved to the makeshift bed.

It hardly provides any support for his sore limbs, but it’s the sentiment that counts.

The hybrid sounds pathetic, urgent to fuck him again. And Jeongguk loves it. Embers of a burnt out fire rekindling in his presence. Rolling onto his back, he hauls the hybrid on top of him. Wants to see him this time. The faces he makes while he moans Jeongguk’s pet names or fucks him with inhuman speed. 

Wants the hybrid to see him . How debauched he must look.

He also kind of needs to kiss him again. Gluttonous for another lustful yet soothing crush of their lips.

Jeongguk lazily slots their mouths together, gentle compared to the passionate embrace of their lower halves. Powering through exhaustion as he lets the hybrid fuck his puffy, rawed hole. Blushing whenever the squelch is overtly obvious but moaning when he receives licks along his nipples for it.

He must be gaping by now. Should feel mortified by the fact. Too bad he doesn’t have the energy for it.

“I’ve been stuck in here,” the hybrid slurs as he briefly looks around at the corners of his room, “but also in here.” He reaches up to tap a finger against Jeongguk’s temple. Sounding playful and fond, but it’s also laced with sincerity.

The hybrid doesn’t knot, but he eventually comes. Shaking as he does so, arms caging Jeongguk in even though he’s not going anywhere. He pulls back to hike up one of Jeongguk’s legs and pecks at his inner thighs, smoothing over the stained skin. Slowly fingering him until he also finds the wave of his release.

It’s more tender than their fourth round—or is it the sixth?

When the hybrid is lifting Jeongguk up with newfound strength and slamming him down on the table near the door. Testing its structural integrity, as well as Jeongguk’s ability to stay lucid, while he bottoms out and pistons into him with enthusiasm. Barely withdrawing after each thrust.

Tactless while Jeongguk lay there completely docile.

It summons a pitiful shriek from slack lips, limp figure being fucked upwards on the table because he can’t brace his hands along the surface, so the hybrid constantly has to tow Jeongguk’s seemingly lifeless body back towards the edge. Cock piercing him deep as ever, tip finding his prostate with no effort. Hammering into it sadistically.

He passes out from that orgasm, somehow able to produce a weak dribble of come despite how much it hurts. A gratifying clench of his taut stomach which actually looks rounder than before.  

When he comes to, the hybrid is still eagerly fucking his hole, appearing almost rabid as he realizes what happened, admiring the way Jeongguk crumples. Encouraged by his totalled expression.

“You’re such a slut, Jeongguk. You know that right?” The hybrid slides a hand over his chubbing cock. Jeongguk is already half hard, but the hybrid slips past it and cups around his balls instead.

Eyes fluttering shut at the feel of the hybrid’s hand tightening slightly, Jeongguk whines out a miserable, “Yes.” But he can’t know for sure if he’s agreeing with the hybrid or simply reacting to his touch. He thinks he scatters the words breed me amongst a string of other incoherencies, too. Altogether unintelligible.

A reaction to the hybrid’s nonexistent refractory period which puts his sanity in jeopardy.

And it’s all a blur from there. Alternating between a subdued, sluggish pursuit of pleasure and a torrid, scorching hunt for a satiating fuck.

Too much come that covers every inch of the room, too many inflated knots that seem to get bigger with each round, and an incomprehensible number of orgasms—mostly dry on Jeongguk’s part.

When it’s all said and done for, they lay in their wreckage. A disconcerting sight for any unassuming wanderer to stumble across. Broken furniture, patchy grass, and a soiled window as proof that they’d claimed ownership of this room and of each other.

And Jeongguk has something else to show for it. Days of fucking, with only minimal breaks in between for rest and snacks—which are mysteriously pushed through the food slot—are visible in his stomach. Bloated with so much come that can only be contained by the hybrid’s cock.

And, even then, it’s incredibly difficult.

His body isn’t built for this kind of rough, deplorable treatment. Started feeling the after effects a day and a half ago, if his estimates are correct, when his cramping meant that the hybrid took it upon himself to eat some of the come brimming from his hole. Pushing on his swollen belly to watch it splatter before landing on his tongue. Ears twitching and tail wagging the entire time. Smile plastered on his face as Jeongguk would shy away from it but still vocalize an appreciative moan.

And he’d be damned if he didn’t admit he enjoyed every waking—or unconscious—second of it.

But, of course, regardless of how good they are, all things must come to an end. Especially when who knows how many exact hours have passed since he’d first stepped a foot into the enclosure. Jeongguk knows that this bliss isn’t eternal, and that sooner or later he’ll have to face whatever awaits him on the outside.

But he’ll have to confront it laying down because there’s no sensation left in his fucking ass, never mind his legs.

Taking a single step proves to be the hardest thing Jeongguk has ever done in his life—and this is considering he got through grad school with barely any sleep. He winces as he tries to towel himself off in vain, having gifted himself a hot shower after he’d been fucked senseless yet again that morning. It soothes him in some ways, while also reminding him of his actions in others, water beating down on the array of discoloured bruises.

The hybrid, ever alert to Jeongguk—more so after he’d officially claimed Jeongguk as a mate in his mind—is there within seconds, unfazed by his nudity and derelict state. Pushing back his dripping hair as he gently brings Jeongguk into his arms to sit him by the edge of the sink.

“I’m the unknown species here but it seems like I’ll be teaching you how to remaster the use of your legs,” the hybrid says teasingly, his satisfied smirk an ode to how pleased he is. Having rendered Jeongguk unable to walk with flawless execution.

Jeongguk shoves him in the chest, ordering him to finish bathing, while at the same time preventing him from doing so, ankles hooked together around the hybrid’s hips. “You got another one of your wishes fulfilled and didn’t even realize.”

The hybrid utters a husky purr when Jeongguk’s hands slide down his back, arching into his touch as he palms over all the scratch marks. He didn’t realize there were that many. “Last I checked, my biggest wish was to have you , so it couldn’t have been that important. Everything else came second to that.”

Jeongguk doesn’t know how much of what he says is a lie, voice in the back of his head repeating the hybrid’s insinuations of feeling trapped in the facility.

“You wanted us to shower together and we have even though you still smell like a wet puppy,” Jeongguk murmurs, the discomfort in his chest at the thought threatening to rupture. There’s uncertainty in what the future holds for them and it sits like a heavy load on his shoulders.

He’s met with a small, but beaming smile, and a happy little wave of the hybrid’s tail. The smile is nowhere near his full grin, but Jeongguk will take it. He ends his routine by shaking out the excess water from his hair, reminiscent of how he did after his first bath. Only, this time, Jeongguk doesn’t flinch when he gets splashed.

“You still smell like me,” the hybrid boasts, chest growing big as it visibly swells with pride. He finds the spot littered with his marks, where he claims Jeongguk’s scent is strongest, and nuzzles him. Incredibly soft and tender.

“I’ll try not to change that anytime soon,” Jeongguk laughs, angling his head so that the hybrid is free to scent him as he pleases. He’s secretly come to enjoy it, anyway.

What he enjoys more , however, is the way the hybrid looks under a steaming shower. Golden skin now mottled with bruises in the shape of Jeongguk’s teeth, mirroring those left behind on his own body. His desires having turned him equally as carnal as the hybrid currently watching him as he rinses himself off.

Keeping their hands off each other hadn’t come easily now that they’ve basically been inseparable for days. Especially for the hybrid. But Jeongguk can see that he tries his best, even when they get dressed.

The hybrid foregoes a shirt, only taking the pair of navy blue scrub pants when Jeongguk procures two fresh changes of clothes from the industrial laundry room which connects to the shower stalls. Says he likes the way it looks on Jeongguk better, bathing him in the hybrid’s scent much more potently once he hugs him in it.

That being said, the hybrid does make good of his word in carrying Jeongguk around the enclosure. Without a single protest heard from either of them, he returns Jeongguk to their makeshift bed, mindful of not sitting him where they’d made a mess.

“I have to give you something,” the hybrid says once he’s done fussing over Jeongguk’s position in bed, laying on his side.

Jeongguk watches him as he heads towards what remains of a small but simple table where he’d gotten fucked so hard one of the wooden legs had come off, resting his head on his hand. Heat colouring his cheeks.

He’d been taken against every available surface of the room. No part of him left untouched. No part of the furniture left untarnished.

Jeongguk’s memory serves him poorly for most of what happened, having been too delirious to function, but the condition of the room does plenty to provide the missing pieces.

Just how he’s going to explain replacing everything they’d broken remains to be seen, but Jeongguk will cross that inevitably mortifying bridge when he gets there.

His wayward thoughts interrupted, Jeongguk blinks in time with the hybrid kneeling before him, a hand held behind his back, the other pulling up Jeongguk’s shirt to rest flat over his stomach. 

“What are you hiding?” He asks, lightly shivering when the hybrid’s fingers circle his navel. 

The answer to his question comes instantly, the hybrid presenting what he’s been retaining to Jeongguk—a leather bound book.

His personal journal. The one he’d been desperately searching for. The one he’d been convinced was somewhere inside his office but hadn’t had time to properly search for.

Clearing his throat, Jeongguk asks, “How long have you had this?” He hopes his voice doesn’t sound as thin to the hybrid as it does to him.

He feels hot around the collar, humiliated at the fact that the hybrid was most likely nosy and snooped. Jeongguk’s certain that there are a number of pages dedicated to his personal research surrounding the hybrid, such as things to look into for his earlier development, or concerns about his diet. But then, at the very back, in those dozens of final pages, is what’s written about everything else . A short diary which serves no purpose other than to expose him.

Just Jeongguk documenting his dreams revolving around the hybrid, needing an outlet of some kind that didn’t involve getting fucked to hell and back by him.

A little late for that now, he knows.

And the hybrid doesn’t make it any easier on him by tilting his head, expression laced with mischief. “Enough to know you’ve been dreaming about submitting to me for a long time, pup .”

“Well, fuck.” Jeongguk pouts while thumbing over the spine of the journal. “That’s how you knew I liked that. Invading people’s privacy will get you in trouble, you know.”

The hybrid rolls his eyes, giving Jeongguk’s waist a squeeze. “To be fair, I had no idea you'd written those things about me—about us —when I first started reading through it.”

“I’m just teasing,” Jeongguk replies, a weak laugh leaving him. Cheeks tinting more than they should. “I’m honestly not bothered by it.”

“Why would you be?” The hybrid snorts, once again coming closer, seeking Jeongguk’s touch, which he gets when they change positions and Jeongguk is sitting on his lap. “ Your wishes came true, too.”

“All except one,” Jeongguk clarifies, smiling sweetly when the hybrid asks what he means. He feigns despondence. “I’ve yet to acquire a muzzle that’ll get you to shut up.”

The hybrid’s scandalized expression pulls a giggle out of Jeongguk, light and unrestrained, especially when he spends the next few minutes grumbling into Jeongguk’s neck on how he refuses to ever wear one.

“Not even for me?” Jeongguk jokes. He’d never do such a thing, but given how much hellfire the hybrid has made him endure, he’s glad to be able to give him a taste of his own medicine. 

He’s not the only brat around here.

The hybrid grunts, and yet Jeongguk can feel him smiling. “Not even for you.”

As much as Jeongguk would love to stay in the warmth and safety of the hybrid’s arms forever, and forget his duties outside the enclosure, he understands it's not reasonable. Especially when doing so will arouse suspicion, and questions.

He’d be surprised if his colleagues aside from Hoseok and Yoongi weren’t wondering where the fuck he’s been. Vaguely worried about whether or not they’ve been able to handle the workload without him around.

With a resigned sigh, and his feet dragging, Jeongguk collects his things—the keycard and his, now dead, cellphone. Quietly letting the hybrid know that he has to go, but will be back. And the hybrid takes it as well as Jeongguk imagined, which isn’t well at all. Ears flattened to his tawny hair, expression unreadable.

It makes Jeongguk want to smooth the creases between his brows and kiss him until it goes away, and so he tries.

Seeking the hybrid’s mouth without the gnawing magnitude of a rut. It’s a gentle meeting, lips reacquainting with one another. A slow slide of tongue as the hybrid licks into Jeongguk’s mouth and crushes him to his chest, refusing to let go and whining pitifully when he has to.

He doesn’t give Jeongguk a moment’s pause, nor the ability to attempt to walk on his own. Hauling him into his arms once more, instead. Jaw tense the entire short cross towards the door. And while he’s mortified that he’s being treated like some kind of baby, he also soaks up the attention.

Loves being cared for.

What he doesn’t love however is having to swipe the keycard through the slot, and much less deal with what’s in front of them once the door opens as soon as they step out. Or better yet, who .

Because waiting by their desk, dressed casually and in the middle of what appears to be a heated game of cards, are Hoseok and Yoongi. Match interrupted by their arrival, bringing a knowing smirk to Hoseok’s lips when he spots them, while Yoongi shows indifference.

“Finally came up for air, huh?” Hoseok says cheerily, sending them a little wave with the hand that holds his cards. He nods to the hybrid, playfully wiggling his brows. “You look pleased with yourself. I take it your first rut went well?”

Jeongguk flusters, an explanation on his lips which soon dies out, because well—there’s no need for one. Judging by their expressions, he can tell they know exactly what he’s been doing. Maybe too well.

He attempts to wriggle himself free from the hybrid’s arms and stumbles, not managing to do so without his support. The ache in his legs, thighs and ass makes it difficult to walk with a casual demeanor, but Jeongguk is nothing if not determined.

Determination doesn’t equal success, considering he’s so fucking sore that not even three steps later his knees buckle and he almost trips. All at once everyone is up and ready to break his fall, Yoongi moving quickly, but hindered by the hybrid, whose warning growl prevents them from coming any closer.

“It's fine, I’m fine, no need to be dramatic,” Jeongguk assures. But the damage has been done, the hybrid once again crowding him from what he assumes to be a threat.

Yoongi and Hoseok fall silent, expressions a mix of concern and curiosity. It’s Yoongi who speaks first, gently holding out his palm. “Koo, hey. It’s alright… you don’t have to defend him from us. We’re not gonna take Jeongguk away or anything. We’re just here to help.”

The hybrid’s tense posture doesn’t ease up as much as it usually does, but he doesn’t lunge at anyone, which is more than what they can expect from him. A now mated alpha who believes his authority is being compromised.

Jeongguk attempts to soothe him, baring his throat for the hybrid to seek comfort from, which instantly works. Within seconds of scenting him, the low growls built up in his throat wane to mere quiet purrs.

The next page of his research is going to be dedicated towards the topic of how Experiment 197 is quite literally a fucking baby .

“Sorry, it's the rut,” he says once he’s calm, but doesn’t withdraw from Jeongguk entirely. Keeps close, their hands laced together. “It's over now, I just—I guess I’m still not entirely myself.”

Hoseok waves him off and abandons any sense of caution, coming close to the hybrid to scratch behind his ears the way he likes. “You’re adorable, we’d never be able to stay mad at you. Between you and me, I wanna tear Yoongi's hand off most days, too.”

“I would actually have a problem with that,” Yoongi interjects, hesitantly glancing at the hybrid. “I need these hands for more than work.”

“What he’s trying to say is that he needs them for when we have sex,” Hoseok chirps, unfazed by the unimpressed stares he’s met with, specifically Yoongi’s. Scoffing, Hoseok points between Jeongguk and the hybrid. “From now on, it's free for all, Ggukie. If you’re allowed to spend three days—two of which we saw plenty of, by the way—getting your back blown out, then we’re allowed to talk about our sex life without reproach.”

“Three days?” Jeongguk asks, voice hoarse. He’d figured they’d spent some time away, but three whole days? Time sure flies when you’re taking a massive knot. “Just how much did you see?”

“Let me put it this way. When I said plenty, I meant basically all of it. Props to anyone who engages in voyeurism because everytime we stopped by to check if you two were alright and saw you bent over something, it felt like my retinas were being melted off.” Hoseok throws his hand of cards on the table with distaste before leading them towards the desk in order for Jeongguk to have a seat. “We did make sure to slide in snacks between our shifts as often as we could though.”

Jeongguk finds his discarded slacks and boxers, as well as the half emptied bottle of lube, placed neatly on the surface and pointedly looks away.

Yoongi glances at them, too, and chuckles. “Yeah we got here on the second day, wondering where you were. Thank God these walls are soundproof, because otherwise who knows what we might’ve heard.”

“Don’t sweat it, boss, you’re not the only one to misuse our facilities,” Hoseok supplies helpfully, patting him on the shoulder when Jeongguk’s words die on him. “Me and Yoongi fuck in here all the time.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Jeongguk grouses, then glances at the desk in question. When he receives a nod from Hoseok, he rolls his eyes, but then asks, “My office?”

“There, too.”

“ Great . Wonderful .”

“Our inappropriate activities during office hours aside,” Yoongi says smoothly, veering the topic onto what they have yet to discuss. Gesturing between Jeongguk and the hybrid, he asks, “What happens now? This changes things, Gguk. You know that.”

“I’m aware that things have changed,” Jeongguk mumbles, grateful for the hybrid behind him, gentle fingers carding through his hair. Soothing the throbbing headache that begins to build. “But this is a separate matter. We’ll proceed with work as we usually do and prepare Koo as much as we can before presenting him to the board.”

The hybrid’s touch ceases, hand tensing. “Wait but… what if they don’t like me, or deem me an experimental failure which, technically, I am . What then?”

“Failure isn’t an option,” Yoongi counters, smile tight lipped. “Regardless of our fondness for you, you’re genuinely incredible. A miracle for modern science as we know it. They’d be idiots to not see the potential in this and believe otherwise.”

“Besides,” Hoseok adds, looming closer to the hybrid to give his bicep a comforting squeeze. “You’re ours anyway. We wouldn’t let anyone convince us that you’re not worth fighting for, much less dictate what happens to you afterwards.”

“Because my safety is a priority,” the hybrid recounts waveringly, gaze pleading when it finds Jeongguk’s. A gaze riddled with vulnerability. With hope.

Jeongguk finds the hybrid’s palm, brings it up to his lips and lays a firm but caring kiss there before lacing their fingers and squeezing tight. He’s certain he hears the hybrid murmur something along the lines of mine into the crown of his head, and Jeongguk would whisper back a yours if they were in a more private setting.

Belonging to him, as it turns out, isn’t what he thought it’d be. It’s better.

“Without question,” he proclaims instead. Not just to the hybrid, but to Hoseok and Yoongi, who have been with him throughout this entire ordeal. A team that he would’ve never survived this long without. “Nothing will happen to you. One way or another you’ll be out of here soon. We have a date, remember?”

The cherry blossoms may not be in bloom yet, but Jeongguk’s heart and indisputable feelings are.

♡ ♡ ♡

The time had finally come.

After five grueling months of extensive planning and research, the day to present their results had finally arrived. Their half-hybrid half-human clone would be revealed to a pair of representatives from the company which had been funding their project from the start.

If all went well, Experiment 197 would be given the seal of approval. Labeled a success to not only the company, but to the scientific community as a whole. Presenting them with numerous opportunities to continue tracking the hybrid’s evolution for years to come. Whereas, if he was seen as a botched experiment, a mistake that even Jeongguk could be stripped of his title for since he was the one behind his creation—accident or not—then that would pose an entirely different set of problems.

However, during their time spent together now that he is no longer actively hiding, Jeongguk has learned a lot about his hybrid. And that is, he’s confident in his ability to gain knowledge despite his limitations. He’s also wildly strong-headed and just a bit obsessive in his perfectionism. A trait undoubtedly coded into him through Jeongguk’s DNA because he’s the exact same way. 

Even more so now. Refusing an outcome that doesn’t benefit him, his team, or the wellbeing of his hybrid. Willing to put himself, primarily his health, on the line to ensure that things are moving according to plan. One doesn’t get much sleep when they’re fighting a battle they’ve made up in their head. Go figure. 

Still, Jeongguk takes his precautions. Armed with a plan B in case things should go south.

It won’t, he’s about ninety nine percent sure of it, but being prepared doesn’t hurt.

Nonetheless, Jeongguk and the hybrid regard the men that are escorted into the lab respectfully, with warm welcome. Deep bows and solid handshakes.

Jeongguk has spoken with one of them before. Kim Namjoon, lead representative in charge of their funding along with Park Jimin. A man Jeongguk hasn’t met, but has definitely heard a lot about. Instantly attuned to him and his ways as he carries himself with authority.

This is the one who they must impress, Jeongguk realizes. Thinks that won’t be so difficult to do when he notices him stare at the hybrid with perpetual amazement. Suspects they’ve already achieved their goal because that’s the same way the rest of Jeongguk’s team reacted, too.

“The resemblance is uncanny,” Representative Kim notes coolly, circling around the hybrid where he stands perfectly still, a picture of grace despite his size. His outward indifference does little to veil the underlying perplexity.

Park Jimin, however, is much harder to read at first glance. Regarding the hybrid shrewdly, his gaze like shards of ice to the skin. “Except for the eyes,” he surmises, taking a step closer. The hybrid stands taller in size, and yet Jimin remains unfazed. To Jeongguk, he says, “I can imagine you didn’t plan this.”

Jeongguk’s jaw locks, his nod stiff. Hand adjusting his glasses from where they’ve slightly tilted. “He’s the first half-breed of his kind, from what we know of. But there’s always room for improvement whenever we launch our future experiments.”

“You think highly of yourself,” Jimin points out, still watching the hybrid intently. “I respect a man with a vision. But before we can decide if there even will be any future experiments, I’d like a more hands-on approach with all the subjects. Care to show us around the facility?”

It’s a question posed for Jeongguk, and yet, when the hybrid offers his arm, Jimin doesn’t hesitate in taking it. Urging Namjoon to do the same.

From the other side of the room, by their main testing area, Jeongguk spies Hoseok gaping at the sight of the hybrid toting two men, other than Jeongguk, around.

Jeongguk tells himself that this reaction is to be expected. Experiment 197 is an anomaly, which is bound to spark anyone’s interest. Does he enjoy watching two attractive men curled around his hybrid? Of course not. But if it will grant them points in their favour, then Jeongguk will grin and bear it.

For now.

His feelings set aside, Jeongguk accompanies the other men through the building, handing them a compilation of his research and of the hybrids’s past, as well as most recent developments. All while giving them a detailed rundown of what they do usually and how that routine—along with their circumstances—came together in order to not only create the hybrid, but to also give rise to an entirely new species, as well.

Throughout their stay, both men ask questions, which Jeongguk had anticipated early on and prepared answers for. What the hybrid’s daily routine consists of, his diet, his skill sets—those are questions Jeongguk allows the hybrid to answer for himself, which he does so without an issue. He speaks clearly and concisely, alluding to both men how happy he is to have been treated with such diligent care.

“He speaks so formally,” Jimin mentions afterwards. “Are you hoping to teach him more casual conversation in the future?”

The hybrid is quicker to respond, garnering a glance of encouragement from Jeongguk. “I’m well versed in casual talk, but thought it would be inappropriate since we haven’t met before. Jeongguk-ssi has taught me well.”

Jimin clicks his tongue, humming low in his throat. “Impressive,” is all he says before asking for a tour of the enclosure, which he gets right away.

A week after the hybrid’s rut, everything that had been broken or stained had either gotten cleaned or replaced. But Jeongguk still has to keep his emotions in check when Namjoon swipes a finger over the window’s ledge to see if there’s any dust—there isn’t—and Jimin tinkers with the hybrid’s sketchpad to sift through his wholesome drawings. A reminder that he once illustrated Jeongguk’s naked figure and gifted it to him.

Jeongguk had shoved it in his lab coat’s pocket, incredulous, but the hybrid wasn’t aware that he’d taped it to one of the pages in the back of his journal that same day.

By the end of their tour, Jeongguk feels much more confident than he had initially. Any mistake that could’ve been made, wasn’t. Every detail going smoothly down to the last second. 

“With that being said,” Jeongguk concludes, coming to stand beside the hybrid once he noticed that he’s been seeking him out, “I believe that continuing this partnership would be mutually beneficial for those involved, should you give us a chance to prove ourselves further.”

For a moment, the room falls silent as Jimin and Namjoon converse among themselves off to the side where Jeongguk can't hear them. The hybrid, mindful that they aren’t watching him, curls his tail around Jeongguk’s wrist.

Jeongguk gives him what he hopes is a confident smile.

It’s as though time comes to a slow the longer it takes both men to delegate their decision, but when they return and Jeongguk glances at the clock he finds that it actually hasn’t been that long at all.

With hands held behind his back, Namjoon comes forward, then nods. “Congratulations, Dr. Jeon,” he says, thrusting out his hand for Jeongguk to shake. “Experiment 197, and everything else you’re working on, for that matter, is more than successful. You’ve done an excellent job. We need more people like you achieving this much at your age.”

Jeongguk returns both his and Jimin’s handshakes, then bows deeply, thanking them for their time and for this opportunity, heart barely contained within his ribcage. So happy he could actually fucking scream .

He’s met with Jimin’s sharp gaze once more as he rises, which shifts between him and the hybrid. Smoothly, while staring at him with a quirked brow, he states, “We’ll do great things together, Jeongguk. I look forward to seeing what the future holds for us.”

He doesn’t miss the way Jimin speaks to him like he knows more about Jeongguk than just his advances in the field. And, even though he quickly casts the thought aside, his intrigue persists. Something to be mulled over another time.

The hybrid inhales sharply beside him, but Jeongguk doesn’t ask why, occupied with accompanying both men to the exit, talk being exchanged about meeting again soon once additional contracts have been drawn up.

Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin express their enthusiasm together, then leave together, too. Jeongguk frowns when he spies their linked hands. He hadn’t anticipated or even gotten a hint that they were in any form of relationship that extended past professional.

By the time he returns to their office space, after reviewing a few of the other experiments, Yoongi, Hoseok and the hybrid— Koo —are waiting for him, champagne bottle popping on cue as he walks in. And the last bit of tension melts right off Jeongguk’s shoulders when he’s hauled into a pair of arms most familiar to him, surrounded by the people he trusts and loves dearly.

“Did you hear that? Our boy got named a fucking success, baby,” Hoseok declares with a beaming grin, tipping the bottle towards his lips and taking a deep swig. “I knew he would from the start, that’s how much I believed in our Koo.”

If it’s possible to get drunk off of one sip of alcohol, Hoseok is already there.

“We all worked hard and the end result showed for it,” Yoongi chimes in, gently guiding Hoseok away in order to find glasses for the champagne. “Good job, everyone, we can finally go back to normal— Hoseokah, nobody is going to want that champagne with you slobbering all over it .”

“As normal as it can get around here, apparently,” the hybrid mutters, pressing Jeongguk further into him and laying a kiss to his hair. Jeongguk allows himself to be doted on, pliant like softened dough as he’s pulled into a kiss that steals his breath away.

Months of doing so hasn’t eased the sensation any, Jeongguk always left staggering after each and every kiss he and his hybrid share.

When they pull away it’s done out of necessity, their chests heaving hard. Still, Jeongguk craves the proximity, the connection between them. Baring his throat for the hybrid to muzzle against it, the way he always does. As the hybrid murmurs sweet things into his skin, Jeongguk shivers, but pulls him closer, fisting into his shirt.

No longer dressed in drab scrubs, the hybrid looks much happier in clothes of his own. Granted, it’s a grey hoodie and a matching pair of sweatpants—which take the colour of his eyes, yet not quite as pretty or striking—and the hybrid still refuses to wear underwear or shoes, but still. He’s much more than a thing crafted inside a test tube.

Not quite man, not quite animal either, but a mixture of both worlds colliding into one. 

“I just realized something,” the hybrid says once he pulls away, hands smoothing up Jeongguk’s back, “I get to go outside.”

Jeongguk smiles, nodding up at him. It’s as though they’re in their own little bubble, far off from whatever lies beyond the doors of the facility. “That’s right. No more enclosures for you.”

The hybrid marvels at his future, nose wrinkling cutely at the possibilities that unfold. Benevolent grey eyes glimmering as he squeezes Jeongguk’s waist, he murmurs, “I’m safe now?”

And Jeongguk would give anything to see that look everyday, making an oath to himself to ensure it happens often. The world at their disposal. 

“You’re safe now.”