oh my GOD the kangakoo fic is SO GOOD. like i’ve read all your works and they’re all good but this story is so GOOD. i was LOCKED IN and next thing i knew i reached the bottom and was like.. oh :( i can’t WAIT to keep reading. i’m so so curious about jk’s back story, poor baby :( and oc’s so cute and sweet ugh you really outdid yourself i love this fic sm. new fav ??
now i KNOW you didn't just suggest kangakoo to be your new favorite work of mine 🤨
you didn't know your estranged uncle had a son. Not until said son dumps an unusually large, very angry, kangaroo hybrid on your doorstep, claiming it's only for a few days while your uncle is in hospital.
pairing: kangaroo hybrid!jk x f!reader
genre: hybrid au, angst, mild fluff
word count: 9.2k (the entire fic is 23.3k)
warnings: none besides the inherent ethics of hybrid-keeping and roo!jk's furious stares
author’s note: to be clear, i first started this fic in 2020/2021 (and i will claim to have been first on the kangakoo agenda with my whole chest 😤 even before bts themselves likened jk to a roo) and finished it over the years, so this is all on lo from the past, current lo is innocent
From what you can remember, there was always a sort of sanity that orbited around your mother. It stemmed from her, and it seeped into everyone around her. Her sister, her brother, her child—you.
She had that thing that made you want to respect her. You don't think you ever heard her raise her voice at anyone, never saw her lose it, and that quiet, comforting understanding is what made her such a great parent. Even your father felt the strings of reason pull on his mind.
But it wasn't always like that. Not for him.
Your father doesn't speak to his brother anymore, hasn't for a long time since he tied the knot with your mother, and honestly, it's for the best. At least according to the vague things you've heard through the years. If your mother was logic, then your father came from the opposite, raised by the chaotic hand of insanity.
Having another cousin—this time on your father's side—hadn't crossed your mind until the little notification bell pinged on Facebook, but nonetheless, there he was, same last name and everything.
Through a few surprisingly polite messages, it became clear that he needed your help. And since there was always that chance of him being nothing like his father, you accepted. After all, insanity can clearly skip a generation.
"It's so great to finally meet you. I'm Taehyung," the blonde-haired man exclaims when you meet him outside the predetermined café. He wears an infectious smile as he enters the building and shows you to a table. Right away, you're caught by surprise because, although his Facebook pictures showed a handsome man, he wasn't this good looking. How is he related to your uncle?
You take off your winter jacket, hands finally thawing as you place the coat over the back of your chair. The small café is not an unfamiliar place; Taehyung offered to come to you since you ‘so graciously’ agreed to help. The place is just a few minutes away from your apartment complex.
"You too," you mumble, watching him start to back away with his wallet raised in his hand. At his question concerning your order, you simply recite your usual: coffee and a blueberry muffin.
"I didn't even know you existed," you admit sheepishly when Taehyung returns to place the little tray down on the table.
"Well, it's not that weird, considering my mom only married your uncle a few years ago. I've heard that he doesn't have the best relationships with the rest of the extended family so..."
You nod, taking a bite out of the fluffy muffin. Makes sense. And if your father knows about the marriage, then he never told you. You didn't exactly consult him before you agreed to help Taehyung either, so it's not like it was brought up.
"And now he's sick?"
"Yeah. Well, he actually had a heart transplant two days ago, but they'll keep him at the hospital for a while since it’s a, you know, heart transplant. So that's why this was all on such short notice; you can't pass up a heart just because no one can watch the hybrid, you know?"
"Yeah, no, of course," you're quick to reassure. "I was just surprised, and well, I don't really have any experience with hybrids. I mean, caring for them."
"Yeah, once again, I'm sorry for the short notice. I would've taken him myself if I could, but I can't, and I knew you lived close by," Taehyung explains, large hands wrapped around the coffee as he sips on it. "But it'll only be for a few days until I can find someone else."
You nod hesitantly, wishing you won't have to take care of the hybrid for long because, truth is, it makes you a bit uncomfortable.
"So, you said before that it's a male? What kind of hybrid is he?"
"Oh, yeah. It's a kangaroo hybrid, and his name is Jeongguk. Rescued as a puppy, or whatever they're called, and had a few families before he ended up with us. Can be a bit of a brat if you spoil him, so make sure he knows you're in charge," a confident smile graces his joking lips.
Despite what you first believed, Taehyung isn't actually related to you or your uncle, and that in itself makes it easier to trust him. The other contributing factor is that smile, the somewhat innocent confidence with which he carries himself.
"And I'd keep him inside if I were you, just to be on the safe side, but if you have to go somewhere with him, then remember that he has to wear his collar and never be more than a few feet from you."
If he can see the look on your face, Taehyung doesn't acknowledge it. You know that hybrids can't be left unsupervised by their owners when out in public, but you’d forgotten about the collar.
"So, are you ready to meet him?" Taehyung raises his eyebrows over the drink he's just about to finish up. With his free hand, he’s collecting his wallet and phone to put in his pocket, and then, he’s rising from the chair.
"What? Now?" you ask, still chewing the last bits of the muffin. When Taehyung had been the only one to show, you assumed the hybrid would arrive later. Like, in a day or something.
"Yeah, he's in the car. Unfortunately, he can’t stay with me any longer, so I really have to drop him off today."
You wonder why he didn't bring the hybrid inside the café since they are welcome and it's cold, literally snowing, outside. But you don't say anything, just grab your things—half full paper mug included—and follow the tall man outside.
Hybrids are normally slightly smaller than the average human, mainly derived from house pets such as cats and dogs, although there are definitely other kinds. But the hybrid that steps out of Taehyung's sleek, black car is anything but small.
He's wearing a winter jacket similar to his owner's, only a bit thinner because 'hybrids run warm,' according to Taehyung. It makes it hard to describe his body shape, but it appears they are roughly the same height and size, at least.
He's got the black jacket zipped up to right beneath his chin, and after grabbing a duffel bag from the car, he remains standing there, dark and cold eyes staring you down. You gulp at his intensity.
"H–hello," you stutter nervously, obviously surprised and intimidated but not stunned enough to be rude. However, if you thought it would warm him up, perhaps even grant you a greeting in return, you’re mistaken; the hybrid just glares at you. Until Taehyung intervenes.
"Gguk, be nice," he voices sternly, making Jeongguk soften his glare a tad and bow his head reluctantly in your direction.
While Taehyung introduces the two of you, one thing keeps occupying your mind. Or, well, two things. Jeongguk's ears.
If Taehyung hadn't already told you beforehand what kind of hybrid the dark-haired male was, then the ears would've made you think donkey. And you mean that in the best way. They're big, longer than those of a regular horse but rounder than a rabbit's. And they're dark, almost black. Jeongguk keeps them turned back, a little lowered. He's not scared; they don't convey submission, more... suspicion. He doesn't trust you.
This isn't your first time seeing a hybrid or anything; you've met some of them before, although very briefly. You still consider yourself pretty knowledgeable; you're one of those people who know a little bit about everything, and hybrids aren't an exception. The thing is just that you've never had to put that hybrid knowledge to the test. Besides, the ones you met previously were all mellow, well-behaved, and with their owners. You'd expected a golden retriever puppy but were met with a wolf.
“It’s a birth defect,” Taehyung explains casually after catching your gaze. “They’re not supposed to be black.”
It throws you off, how he speaks of the hybrid, but since neither of them seem to share your opinion, you don’t question it.
Taehyung keeps chatting all the way up to your apartment, his voice becoming elevator music as you glance at the pair through the mirror in front of you.
It's not only the fact that Jeongguk already seems to despise you that makes you lower your gaze quicker than ever when it's met by his sharp, dark eyes.
Taehyung is gorgeous. Dark blonde hair covers most of his forehead except for a little sliver, and he's blessed with dark eyes, framed by long lashes, and that infectious smile. But Jeongguk is more than that; he has something else that catches your eye more so than Taehyung, and it's not his animal features.
When the elevator reaches the fifth floor with a 'ding,' you step out and take the lead. The sound of your keys jingling echoes through the hallway and intensifies when you reach up to unlock the door to your apartment.
"Here it is," you say, back turned against the others as you open the door wide and step inside.
"Cozy," you hear Taehyung compliment even before he's seen more than the first part of your hallway.
"Thank you."
You show Jeongguk where to hang his jacket and put his shoes while Taehyung remains dressed for the outdoors.
"He's not very complicated. Eats anything, sleeps anywhere. He has his clothes and other necessary stuff with him."
As Taehyung speaks, your eyes drift to the male in between you. He's facing you, still in the hallway, and he's wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. It's like he doesn't even hear that he's being talked about, his eyes staring into the air, and his face blank.
You don't think Taehyung is lying. Well, not intentionally. But you hesitate because Jeongguk still hasn't said a single word to you, and it's obvious he does not want to be there.
Taehyung reaches for the door handle.
"Wait!"
He stops to look at you.
"Are you sure?" you ask. It's Taehyung who you're speaking to, but your eyes are still carefully watching Jeongguk. "He doesn't... are you sure this is okay?"
"Look, I really need your help," Taehyung pleads, suddenly way more serious. "It'll be fine, and I'll try to find someone else as soon as possible, so hopefully it's only for a few days."
"Yeah, but he..."
What are you going to say? You won't lie and say the hybrid's hostility doesn't make you uncomfortable, because it does, but you're mostly asking for his sake. He doesn't want to be left with you.
Taehyung's eyes follow yours, but while you watch Jeongguk with worry, Taehyung's gaze burns holes in his head from behind.
"Don't worry, he'll behave. He knows he's not coming home otherwise."
There's a second of silence before Jeongguk gives one determined nod to show that he got it. You're left speechless, and Taehyung reaches for the door handle once again. But before he actually opens the door, he turns back one last time.
"Oh, I almost forgot. He has activities on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. I'll send a friend to pick him up and drive him, but just so you know, he'll be back late." With that, and a small wave your way, Taehyung leaves. And you're all alone with a strange hybrid.
"Well, uh, feel free to look around," you gesture around you before bending down to take off your shoes that you'd forgotten.
Jeongguk does that same kind of nod again, and then he walks past you, giving a clear view of something you didn't see before. His dark tail. Your fingers let go of the laces as you stare up at it in awe. It's huge, could easily sweep the floor after him if he didn't keep it up. Unlike the tails of other animals like, say lions, it's thick and looks a lot stiffer. But it’s still not as thick as the ones you’ve seen on real kangaroos.
Suddenly, Jeongguk stops. He's caught you staring. And now, he's glaring at you. Cheeks tinged pink, you return your attention to your boots, and you can hear Jeongguk disappear further into the apartment.
It doesn't feel good. This whole thing leaves a bad taste in your mouth. You think back to Taehyung's words, even those he said at the café, those you thought were meant as a joke.
Make sure he knows you're in charge? Those practices are outdated and were disproven years ago, even for raising dogs. And if Jeongguk doesn't behave? He's not allowed back home? What does that mean? Where would he go?
Minutes later, you find him in the living room, standing beside your large, gray couch.
"What are your rules?" he asks stoically. "I'm allowed to sleep on the couch back home, just so you know."
You can't help but furrow your eyebrows in confusion. Why does it sound a little like he's bragging?
"Rules? I don't know, uh, don't... intentionally break anything? And I already prepared the guest room for you. Clean sheets in the bed."
"Bed?" Now it's Jeongguk's turn to draw his eyebrows together, although he appears more skeptical. "I prefer the couch."
The way he says it is so confident that it sways you. But you still don't understand why he'd choose the couch over a bed.
"Uh, okay... Well, you can sleep wherever you want, I guess, but you're more than welcome to use the guest room and sleep in the bed there."
Jeongguk seems insistent, but after a very brief tour of your apartment, mostly you pointing to the kitchen and bathroom and assuring that he can take and use whatever he wants, he eventually does retreat to the guest room.
The closed door has you on your toes in the beginning, scared that he’ll appear at any moment and glare you to death, but he never does. You ask through it what he likes to eat, but you don't get an answer, and when you've gone ahead and cooked your favorite food, he doesn't come out to eat, either.
It doesn't feel very good to go to bed without having seen your guest eat anything, but your alarm will go off earlier than you'd really want the morning after, and you think Jeongguk would value being left alone without food higher than being nagged at.
After shutting the alarm off, you stretch your arms over your head and blink the sleep from your eyes. Slowly, you get up to head towards the bathroom, and just as slowly, yesterday’s events come back to you. On your way there, you have to pass by the living room, and when you do, you see him.
If you thought that the kangaroo hybrid locking himself in the guest room meant that he decided to sleep in there too... then you were absolutely wrong. He's tall, but even if he’d chosen to lie straight and not curled up like he is, he’d fit. One of the decorative pillows is under his head, but he doesn't have anything covering him. Not even though there are two soft blankets folded up and draped over the couch.
Your apartment is on the chillier side, and seeing Jeongguk in only a t-shirt and basketball shorts sends a shiver down your spine. Taehyung did say that hybrids run hotter, so you guess it's fine...
It doesn't take you long to get ready. A quick shower, clean clothes, some make-up, and then you're ready to go. You've never been one to eat breakfast, but when you fill a huge bowl with apples, bananas, and oranges, you grab an apple for yourself. You have a feeling that Jeongguk is the type to never want to owe anyone anything, even when there is no debt, but you're hoping he'll at least take some fruit. If he's going to stay multiple days, then he definitely needs to eat.
You could write a note, telling him that you've left for work. You should write the note. But your brain, still half asleep, tiptoes into the living room.
When he's sleeping, Jeongguk looks much nicer. Not at all the harsh looks and mean clench of his jaw. Black locks fall into his face, and the ears look so incredibly soft that you just want to reach out and touch. But that would be weird and not cool. And even if his face looks softer, his choice of sleep attire reveals that, physically, he’s very much capable of beating you to death. He lies on his side, facing you, but it’s still obvious how broad his shoulders are and how the muscles bulge under his skin. There are a few prominent veins stemming from the inside of his biceps and reaching all over his forearms and the backs of his hands.
The apartment really is cold at the moment, and despite Taehyung's words, you notice goosebumps lining the hybrid's naked arms. You step away to reach for the warmest blanket you own, unfolding it and gently draping it over Jeongguk's body. Luckily, it's big enough to even cover the tip of his tail.
And lastly, before you leave, you make the mistake.
"Jeongguk," you speak softly, putting your hand on his shoulder to gently wake him up. But it doesn't quite go as planned when he wakes and immediately slaps your hand off him.
"Don't touch me!" he growls, in a half-seated position and with his ears pinned back. "Don't ever touch me!"
Your blood freezes as you retract your hand and step back as quickly as you can. "I–I'm sorry," you whisper in a panic, so caught off guard, it's not even funny. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to say that I'm leaving for work."
He looks so angry, and the thought that it was you who made something so miscalculated and wrong makes your eyes tear up. But you don't think he notices because you're quick to turn away, and he lies back down again without a word.
You spend the next few hours at work completely thrown off. Black eyes haunt your mind, the way he jumped back to put more distance between you, and his snarled words... It's all burnt into your memory.
You can definitely say you're not in a hurry to get home. Grocery store, clothing shops, you even stop by a florist on your way. But food is the only thing in your bags as you unlock the door to your apartment.
It’s quiet when you enter, except for the sound of the tv, and when you step further into the apartment, your eyes meet. He's on the couch, staring at you. Well, at least he's not trying to end you with his fists. And so you offer him a small smile before you take the bags to the kitchen to unpack.
The fridge looks just as it did when you last checked it; the only sign of the hybrid eating anything is the fruit bowl that seems to be missing a few pieces. You chew on your lip, trying to decide what to cook for dinner. It's already eight p.m.
"Do you have a favorite dish?" you voice without even entering the living room, only approaching to the point you can see Jeongguk’s face.
He keeps his eyes on the tv where some old movie is playing. "No, I eat anything."
"Yeah, but... nothing you like the most?" You hold your breath, desperately wanting to make the morning's misstep up to him but hopefully without angering him again.
"No."
Well, you're not going to push him any further, so you nod and retreat into the kitchen. You just hope he wasn't lying and that you won’t accidentally cook him something that’ll make him hurl.
You end up making a stew, going through your emails while it cooks. The room fills with the smell of food, and you realize how hungry you are. When it’s done, you carry a large bowl of it along with some toasted garlic bread and a glass of water into the living room on a tray.
You notice Jeongguk discreetly sniffing the air as you put the tray down onto the coffee table. It's not directly in front of him due to what happened earlier, you don't want to make him feel suffocated by being too close. Not in any way. He shows no emotions, just looks at you, and you avert your gaze, feeling... embarrassed?
"Can't return you in bad shape," you smile awkwardly and mumble so quietly you doubt he even hears it before you turn around and leave, going back to eat your portion in the safety of the kitchen.
Spoonful after spoonful, you chew the meat while looking out the kitchen window. Most of all, you see the reflection of your own face.
What is Jeongguk's life like at home? You're aware that there are lots of bad hybrid owners who abuse the ones that need them the most, but except for Taehyung's parting words and that joke, there aren't any indicators that Jeongguk is being mistreated. Right?
He seems healthy. He might not have the hugest of appetites at your place, but he looks far from malnourished. It's not like he's small and defenseless either. However Jeongguk is treated, the fact that he despises you remains. You just don't understand why.
Jeongguk doesn't lock himself away inside the guest room that night, but he doesn't sleep in there either, still preferring the couch for some reason. At least he ate everything you put on that tray.
And when you leave for work the next morning, you don't make the same mistake again. You simply leave without saying anything to the hybrid curled up on the couch.
It isn't quite as late when you return home as it was the day before, and when you step into the hallway, you see Jeongguk bent over his duffel bag, seemingly... packing?
He zips it closed and stands up, eyes meeting yours. No greeting, but you honestly don't expect anything of the kind anymore.
"Are you going somewhere?" you ask, confused but minding your tone as to not sound accusing.
"It's Tuesday. Jimin is waiting." He walks around you where you stand, reaching for his jacket from the hanger. You step away, maybe too fast and too noticeable, but you really don't want to anger him by accidentally brushing against him. If he notices, he doesn't show it.
"Oh," you look away, embarrassed because you’d definitely forgotten. "When will you be back?"
“Don’t know.”
“Oh, okay. Be safe,” you speak, but he’s almost entirely out the door before you’ve finished. It’s not like you even know where he’s going or what he’s doing, and you certainly don’t think he’d appreciate you asking.
With a sigh, you lock the door behind him.
Taehyung said that Jeongguk would be late, but as movie after movie ends, and there’s still no sign of the hybrid, you begin to worry.
He left at around six p.m., and midnight passed an hour ago when you send a somewhat panicked text to Taehyung, asking if Jeongguk shouldn’t have returned by now.
‘Yeah, he should.’
You lick your lips as your anxious heart beats faster. What if something’s happened to him?
Before you’re able to ask what you’re going to do, Taehyung sends another text.
‘The gps in his chip shows he’s at yours, though?’
What?
You watched Jeongguk leave, and if he returned, you would’ve heard it. Still, with phone in hand and Taehyung’s messages open, you look through all the rooms.
No kangaroo hybrid to be seen.
The very last thing you do before you’ll admit defeat is to check the stairwell. There’s absolutely no reason Jeongguk would be there, but when the door glides open… he is. He sits on the stairs leading a floor up, with his bag beside him, jacket folded over his lap, and blood coming from his mouth.
“Oh my god, what happened?”
For a brief second, Jeongguk meets your eyes and looks… surprised? But it soon evolves into that familiar look of irritation as he regains control over the muscles of his face.
“Nothing.”
It’s clearly not nothing, and still very much worried, you open the door all the way and motion for him to enter.
“Let’s get you inside and cleaned up.”
But of course, you should’ve expected him to fight.
“It’s just a busted lip,” he argues quietly but still rises from the stairs and grabs his duffel bag by its handles.
“But you’re bleeding…”
When you peer back at him, you notice that he’s put the sleeve of the jacket he’s not wearing pressed to his mouth as if he hadn’t known the red liquid was still seeping from the wound. Also like he rather stains his jacket than your floor.
The first thing you do is head to the kitchen to retrieve some tissues, offering them up to Jeongguk when you return to the hallway.
“Why don’t you take a quick shower, and I can take a look at your lip after?” you suggest because not only is the hybrid injured, but he looks to have sweated a lot.
Reluctantly, he accepts the tissues, replacing the sleeve of his jacket with them and putting pressure on his lip. The jacket gets hung on a hanger, and then Jeongguk leaves, gathering a change of clothes and a towel from the guest room before he enters the bathroom, huffing angrily the entire time.
With the sound of the shower running as background noise, you sway from foot to foot in the kitchen, biting at your nails. What happened that resulted in such an injury? Why was he so sweaty? And what kind of friend was this ‘Jimin’ if he didn’t bother to clean Jeongguk up? Make sure he got home properly? Well, not home home, but still.
The sound of the bathroom door unlocking and opening is what snaps you out of your thoughts, and you go to meet him right outside. He’s wearing a new set of sleep attire, although the same style as yesterday; a black t-shirt and some gray shorts. His hair is wet but it doesn’t drip, and you fight the urge to just… stare at his ears. They’re partially pinned back like they always are, but when they and his black locks are wet, they’re more prominent and, well, cute.
Jeongguk observes you with suspicion and with paper still pressed to his mouth.
“Let me see?” you ask, trying to sound as non-threatening as possible.
“It’s nothing,” he grumbles the same words from earlier.
“Please?” You’re no expert on wounds but what if he needs professional care? How are you supposed to sleep without knowing?
“No,” he answers strictly and makes an attempt to walk around you. But you step in front of him, blocking his way.
Jeongguk stares down at you, but you can’t let it go. Not if he’s in pain and it could be somewhat serious.
“Weren’t you supposed to behave?” you remind sternly, and you can see the way a flash of surprise washes over his face before he’s pressing his lips together and clenching his jaw. You would never tell Taehyung, or anyone, that Jeongguk was misbehaving, not when you still don’t know what the consequences might be, and certainly not for something so insignificant.
But Jeongguk doesn’t know that.
With a cold glare, he lowers the tissue. But it’s too dark in the hallway, so you ask him to follow you back inside the bathroom where the ceiling lights are bordering on surgical.
Without touching him, you motion to the spot where you want him to stand, in front of the washing machine, and then, you rise to your toes to get a better look, trying to ignore the way his glare makes your intimidated heart beat faster.
You have to stop yourself from grasping his chin and so instead, your hand floats a few inches from his face. It makes it more difficult to see how deep the gash is when you can’t move his face around, but it will have to do. After all, you haven’t forgotten how he reacted to your touch the first time. First and last time.
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” he grumbles.
You lace your voice with that sternness again while looking him straight in the eye. “Are you lying?”
Your courage surprises you because Jeongguk is a lot bigger than you. He towers over you, and he’s fit and muscular, you’ve already established that. He’s also not very happy or fond of you, but glaring at you is the farthest he will go, you’re already a hundred percent certain of that. It doesn’t matter that his lip is wounded and that someone else might also be sporting injuries and bruises. If he wanted to hurt you, he would’ve done so already.
When he doesn’t say anything, only keeps his cold stare on you, you know two things. What the answer to your question is, and how to handle him. If necessary, that is, you don’t particularly enjoy threatening him.
Even though his lip is painful, Jeongguk’s wound doesn’t look too serious. And by that, you mean not serious enough for you to drag him to your car and speed toward the closest hybrid doctor. But you sink down from your toes as your eyebrows draw together.
When you open your mouth this time, your voice is softer. “So… what happened?”
He’s so pretty, he really is. You think back to the vision of him sleeping and how innocent and carefree he seemed. You’ve never seen him be anything besides angry while awake, and you absolutely hate that he feels the need to always be so guarded and hostile. And, of course, you also hate that someone, a few hours ago, split his skin open and made him bleed.
Taking advantage of the way you’ve softened, Jeongguk mutters, “Nothing,” and sidesteps you, disappearing through the door.
But you follow.
He’s about to pull back one of the blankets on the couch when you catch up, and you immediately gather all of that determination again.
“Nuh-uh, you’re not sleeping there.”
He halts his movements, standing there with the corner of the blanket in his hand, and you can see, even from the distance, how his grip tightens and jaw clenches. Then, he drops the blanket, still looking at it where it lies on the couch.
“When should I be back? Or should I not bother?” he mutters.
You don’t give yourself time to absolutely break at his words. “Guest room. Now.”
You turn on your heel, not staying to make sure he’s actually following, but as you open the door to the guest room, there he is, right behind you and obeying.
“This is where you’re sleeping.”
“No.”
“Yes, you are. I’ll lock you in here, I don’t care.”
“I can’t. There will be hair on the sheets. Maybe blood as well.”
“You listen to me. I don’t care. You’re sleeping in here, and if I wake up tomorrow to find you sleeping somewhere else other than in that bed, I will not be happy.”
For a few seconds, Jeongguk seems to believe that if he challenges you to an angry stare-off–and wins–you’ll surrender. However, you don’t give up that easily, and when those seconds have passed, you still gesture determinedly towards the bed.
“Get in. Now.”
Huffing, he passes you, and you watch as he reaches the bed and reluctantly pulls the white covers back like he had tried to do with the blanket, and gets inside. He doesn’t lie down, just sits there, watching you.
You point your finger at him. “Stay there, I’ll be back in a second.”
Without waiting for any kind of answer you don’t think he’d give you anyway, you return to the bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet in search of some painkillers. You pop a pill into your palm and on your way back to the guest room, you stop by the kitchen to get a glass of water as well.
Jeongguk remains in the same exact position you left him in, and he follows your figure with his eyes as you approach him to place the two things on the bedside table.
The second you straighten up, you suddenly remember something. Not used to sounding so harsh, you almost slip back into your usual voice and choice of words but manage to stop yourself at the last second. You clear your throat.
“Did you eat today?”
You’re taller than him when you’re standing and he’s sitting, but his eyes hold the same hostility as when he’d been towering over you previously.
“Yes,” he grits.
“When?” you push.
He stares at you with those eyes of death before he finally gives up. “Eleven,” he grits, staring right into your soul.
“A.m.? P.m.?”
“A.m.”
To be honest, it doesn’t surprise you, even if you feel terrible. But you don’t allow yourself to soften now either, knowing he won’t listen if you do.
“Okay. Here’s the deal, you’re going to sleep in here, in this bed, but not after you’ve eaten. Get it?”
Jeongguk doesn’t give you an answer, not even a nod of his head until you urge further. “Understood?”
And when he does, you march out of that room and into the kitchen where you’re pulling out the rest of what you cooked for dinner, the portion of lasagna he didn’t get to eat when he didn’t come home and that you forgot all about when the worry had started to set in.
It’s only when the microwave beeps that Jeongguk shows up, not exactly ecstatic but what’s new? You place the plate, a set of utensils, and another glass of water on the table, and then you wait until he turns the chair sideways and sits down.
You won’t deny how cute you find it that he prefers to sit like that, with his tail hanging towards the floor behind him. It makes sense that it’s more comfortable for him though, the tail isn’t as flexible as that of something like a cat.
You might be pretending to be mean—you wouldn’t think you’re doing a great job if it weren’t for the way Jeongguk is actually obeying—but even then, you decide to not be so weird as to stand and watch him eat.
Instead, you turn your back to him and busy yourself with the few plates needing to be washed, and you boil some water.
While he eats, Jeongguk doesn’t pay you any attention as you come and go. He just sits there and eats, and you can’t even tell if your cooking is the best he’s ever had or if it tastes like something out of a dumpster.
Before he’s finished, you have: done some dishes, taken out the trash, cleaned the microwave and wiped down the counter, and lastly, filled a hot water bottle and hidden it between the sheets in Jeongguk’s bed.
It’s not like you’ve missed the seemingly always-present goosebumps on his skin or the way he’ll sometimes rub at his arms when he thinks you aren’t looking. One Google search quickly informed you that, yeah, hybrids typically do run warmer, but it depends on the species, and Jeongguk, well, he’s a kangaroo hybrid. Not exactly an animal usually found at the poles. And since your apartment is chillier than average, you retrieved the blue hot water bottle from its forgotten place in your little storage closet.
When you return to the kitchen, Jeongguk has finished eating and is washing the plate and utensils in the sink. You would’ve gladly done it for him, but since he hasn’t spotted you, you back away quietly.
After a minute or so, he exits the kitchen, and you—typing a text to a friend despite the late hour—call out when he passes the guest room.
“Was gonna brush my teeth first…” he informs arrogantly, and you feel your cheeks heat up.
“Alright, do that. And then, straight to bed.”
You choose to wait a few minutes after he’s retreated into the guest room to follow him, knocking on the closed door. “Jeongguk?”
As expected, he doesn’t answer, so you wait a few more seconds—enough for him to cover himself if he happened to be naked—and then you open the door slowly.
He’s watching you from the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard and the white covers over his lap.
“Why were you in the stairwell earlier?” you ask, not bothering to beat around the bush.
Again, to no one’s surprise, he just stares harshly at you until you raise your eyebrows expectantly.
“I can’t disturb you.”
Oh, how your heart hurts. You let go of the door handle, stepping into the room to sit on the edge of the bed, as far away from the hybrid as you can.
“Were you going to stay there? All night?”
The pain in your voice is evident, and in that moment, something happens. Jeongguk doesn’t answer you, but he also turns his head away, tired eyes looking at the floor.
“Do you really think I’d go to bed without knowing where you were? That you were safe? I was waiting for you.”
Your eyes become glassy as you take in the being before you. Someone forced to be dependent on others, and who has learned not to make noise. He was going to sleep in the stairwell because he knew he shouldn’t bother you if you were sleeping already.
“You’re not a bother. Not to me.”
You don’t wait for an answer this time, feeling like the day has been emotional and draining enough, and after leaving the guest room with a whispered ‘good night,’ you spend an hour trying to fall asleep.
He hadn’t stretched his legs out enough to feel the hot water bottle when you sat with him, and you smile sadly as you try to imagine his reaction to the warmth. One thing’s for sure; Jeongguk deserves better.
In contrast to the letters you’re scribbling down, you’re smiling, and it’s with light hands and a quietly hummed melody you’re attaching the yellow sticky note to the pile of plastic wrapped waffles.
‘EAT!!!’
The plate goes into the fridge since you don’t know when Jeongguk will be up, and you’ll soon head to work.
Thirty more minutes roll by, until all that's left to do is to relay some information to Jeongguk. Softly, you knock on his door, opening it slightly when half a minute passes with no reply.
Instantly, you smile to yourself. The hybrid is all cuddled up in the bed; a surprisingly small ball covered in white. And at the top, his peaceful face, black locks and ears, and just a little bit of blue stick out.
The hot water bottle. He looks to be hugging it close to his body, content even though it’s long lost its heat.
“Jeongguk?”
He stirs at your quiet call of his name, but he doesn’t wake. And in the process, his arm peeks out from under the covers. You were going to call for him again, but his name dies on your tongue.
There are bruises lining his arm. You didn’t see them last night, and they’re still only a purplish red, meaning that they’re not very old.
The discovery leaves a bad taste in your mouth, and you close the door, looking for a piece of paper, preferably a bit larger than the sticky notes.
Despite starting off with a bit of sadness, your day at work is better than the previous ones, mostly because of the small break-through you think you witnessed the night before. It felt as if, without even really saying anything, Jeongguk opened up a little bit, and that makes you happy.
The moment you step back inside the apartment, you hear the telltale sound of Mario Kart, and you smile to yourself as you remove your jacket and shoes.
On your way to the living room, you stop by the kitchen to see the plate that held the waffles empty and beside it, the note you left.
‘Jeongguk, a friend of mine called Yoongi will stop by and install something for us today. He’s really nice, so I hope you’ll be nice to him as well!’
You hope that some entertainment might make Jeongguk’s stay a little more pleasant, and from what you see when you enter the living room, you’re happy with your decision.
Very briefly, dark eyes meet yours before they’re back on the screen to pause the game.
“Oh, I don’t mind if you play,” you exclaim, guessing that telling him that you specifically asked Yoongi to install it for him, wouldn’t be the best of ideas, even if Jeongguk surely knows it.
However, Jeongguk keeps it paused, watching you. He doesn’t look friendly, nor does he smile, but he... doesn’t look furious. Not like you just murdered his entire family.
“So, it went alright? When Yoongi stopped by?”
The hybrid gives his typical short nod, and you make a mental note to ask your friend as well. Mostly for your own curiosity.
Still satisfied with the albeit short exchange, you exit the living room to head into the kitchen, pulling out ingredients and tools onto the counter. You’ve been craving your grandmother’s homemade bread for literal weeks but haven’t had the time to bake until now.
A few minutes later, while you’re elbows deep into mixing the dough, two things happen almost simultaneously.
Jeongguk walks into the kitchen and with his polite but still somewhat stoic voice asks, “Can I have some water?”
To which you step aside to give him access to the tap, ensuring, “Of course! Just take whatever you want or need.”
And your phone rings.
It lies on the kitchen table, and with your relatively clean pinky, you answer the call, putting it on speaker.
“Hello?” you greet, sticky hands held in the air.
“Hi, it’s Taehyung!”
You freeze at the friendly voice. To say that your feelings and thoughts of Taehyung have changed during the past few days is an understatement. Or... well, you think. No one’s really explicitly told you anything, it’s mostly just signs, implications, and your own gut feeling.
You hope he’s just calling to check in.
“Oh, hi. How are you? And Jihoon?”
“We’re good! He’s still recovering. You know, a procedure of that kind is tough on the body, not to mention if you’re over fifty. They’re keeping him a bit longer, even if he tries to make them let him go earlier,” Taehyung laughs.
“Yeah,” you agree politely, “He should listen to the doctors and take it easy.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell him. But anyway, I’ve got some good news for you!”
You glance worriedly at the phone. Good news?
“Oh?”
“Yeah! I spoke with a friend earlier, and he offered to take Jeongguk. He had some things to do out of town, but seems like he’ll be able to reschedule and take him after all. And I just spoke with Jimin; he’s close by and can pick Jeongguk up in half an hour if that works for you?”
“Half an hour?” you repeat with your heart falling.
When you turn around, Jeongguk stands behind you, sipping water from a glass and staring out the window. You don’t even see his entire profile, but he, as usual, doesn’t show very much emotion.
“Yeah.”
“And this friend...? Who... What’s his name?”
It’s not like you expect to know the person, but you can’t help it. You feel like you need to know.
“Namjoon,” Taehyung answers, and you see Jeongguk’s shoulders falling slightly, and what little you see of his face loses whatever tiny little glimpse of emotion it had before. “Don’t worry, he and Jeongguk know each other.”
It doesn’t take very long for you to come to a decision. The hybrid might not like you, but... you can at least guarantee he’s being looked after properly. That he has a bed to sleep in, all the food he can eat, and... someone who cares for him. And most importantly, you don’t know this Namjoon, but you guess that Jeongguk would rather stay with you judging by his reaction.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind if he stays.”
Taehyung is silent for a second, and you’ve turned away from Jeongguk, so if he reacts in any way, you don’t see it.
“Really? Are you sure? I mean, I know he can be a handful,” he chuckles.
“I promise, it’s fine. He’s not so bad.”
It’s not even a lie. Or maybe he is just a tad bit difficult sometimes, but you’ve already come to the conclusion that if anything, it’s not Jeongguk’s fault. The image of the kangaroo hybrid, all snuggled up to the hot water bottle in bed, flashes before your eyes. That alone is worth it.
“Oh... Well, okay then. That’s very generous of you, so thank you. I’ll let Jimin and Namjoon know.”
You don’t like Taehyung’s words or how surprised and even grateful he sounds. No wonder Jeongguk thinks he’s a burden, and you don’t even know how they treat him at home.
“Yeah, no problem.”
There are a few more sentences exchanged before you hang up—Jeongguk long gone from the kitchen by then—and you can resume your baking. It hits you then just how little you want Jeongguk to go home. To go anywhere. But you don’t think there’s really anything you can do; hybrids have few rights and are basically nothing more than possessions in the eyes of society.
“Can I play?”
Jeongguk looks at you where you stand beside the couch, and immediately, he pauses the game and holds the controller out to you. All while looking... stoic. There’s still almost always that underlying anger. Like he loathes humans so much, and that yes, he will obey, but only because he has to. A part of you wonders how his ‘caretakers’ succeeded in making someone so stubborn and strong comply; another part doesn’t even want to imagine it.
“Oh, I meant with you? There’s another controller, right?”
Stepping in front of the tv, you crouch to look through the little box Yoongi left with games. And, yeah, there it is. You pull it out, fiddling a little with it in your hands as you move to sit down on the couch. With adequate space between you and the hybrid, of course.
“So, I’ve only played Mario Kart once and that was like... years and years ago. Do you think, maybe you could... teach me?”
Jeongguk looks at you, a softer than usual look of surprise on his face. His eyebrows are a tiny bit raised and his lips just slightly parted.
“I’ve never played before today.”
“Really? It certainly looks like you know what you’re doing,” you chuckle, noticing how his eyes flicker subtly in something other than anger?
“Uh, yeah... Yoongi showed me the controls.”
You make a mental note to send flowers and some kind of gift basket to Yoongi’s home. In a way, it doesn’t surprise you that the calm and almost somber-looking man was able to interact with the very suspicious hybrid. Yoongi doesn’t ponder too much; he’s more straight—but calmly so—to the point.
“Will you show them to me, then?”
He nods, and with the controller in his hands, shows you what the buttons do and when to press them. When you feel like you’ve refreshed your memory enough to give it a shot, Jeongguk restarts the game. Of course, the hybrid’s superior reflexes and the few hours he already spent playing lead to his victory. The first time, you can see that he isn’t sure how to act, almost as if he knows not to seem satisfied with winning, but when all you do is complain about your own performance in a lighthearted way and compliment his, he smiles.
The thirty minutes you spent gaming influence the rest of the night, and you smile to yourself as you refill the hot water bottle for Jeongguk right before bed time. He doesn’t acknowledge the gesture, but he doesn’t argue it either, and that’s a win in your book, at least.
However, the next day—thursday—he’s back to being a grump, and at first, you have no idea why. Then it hits you. Thursdays mean ‘activity,’ which probably in turn means fighting. As a result, he’s holed up in the guest room for most of the day, eating only an apple and a banana after you open the door and physically place them and a big water bottle inside.
A few minutes before Jimin is supposed to pick Jeongguk up, you approach the tall hybrid in the hallway.
“So, what is it that you do? Are you… fighting?” you ask, trying to keep your worry and distaste out of your words.
He doesn’t answer, but you can feel his irritation grow and see his ears swivel back, which you by now can tell means that he’s not happy. Maybe you weren’t very successful.
“Are they making you fight?”
Again, he remains quiet, zipping the bag shut.
“Can’t you just answer me for once?” you question, sounding more frustrated than you intended to.
“No.”
You lick your lips, silently cursing at yourself. Things were going so well. If you hadn’t asked—almost accused him—maybe his anger would’ve dwindled naturally.
“Do I come back?” he asks instead, staring at the wall, and you feel the heat radiating as his blood boils. He’s wondering if you’re kicking him out to the street for not answering your question.
“Come back? Of course,” you assure him, your own frustration exchanged for heartache and your voice taking on a softer tone once more. “I have an extra key you can have if that makes you more comfortable?”
“No,” he declines.
“Okay, but promise me you’ll knock, no matter the time?”
You think he’s about to nod, or at least give you some sort of answer, but you’re interrupted by the doorbell.
You linger just inside the closed front door after they’ve left, wondering what you should do to pass the time. Whether you want to or not, you worry a whole lot about Jeongguk, hoping desperately he won’t come back injured.
While you wait, you decide to take the opportunity to cook for him. You’ve tried googling what kangaroo hybrids typically like to eat, but it hasn’t given you a very clear answer, so you settle on a pasta dish. You make sure to use extra cream and to also make him a dessert of banana slices with peanut butter. If he doesn’t want to eat like he should, you can at least try to pack as many calories into what he does eat.
Then, you retrieve the first aid kit, just in case, and the last thing you do before sinking down on the couch to wait in front of the TV is to fluff his pillows and place the filled hot water bottle between the sheets. Hopefully his bed will be warm and ready whenever he returns.
Despite finding a very interesting documentary to watch, you can’t stop yourself, checking your watch as well as the stairwell outside your apartment now and again.
Whether he’d actually knock or try to stay outside again, you won’t actually know because at two-thirty a.m., you hear the slightest of noise from outside and go to open the door, seeing Jeongguk approach.
If you hoped whatever he’s doing with Jimin would’ve made him more at ease, well, it didn’t. He doesn’t greet you, stepping inside and placing his duffel bag on the floor. You try to get a good look at him to see if he is injured, but he appears to move smoothly and without pain, and there’s nothing on his face that seems hurt either.
Unfortunately, Jeongguk doesn’t appreciate the things you did for him while you waited. He scoffs at the bowl of pasta you bring him when he comes out of the shower, and you won’t deny that it breaks your heart a little bit. Even more so when he peers into the guest room, seeing the fluffed pillows.
“I’m not a human nor a baby.”
Unsure of what to do, you give sternness another try. “Eat, Jeongguk.”
But he turns fully toward you, looking down at you like he doesn’t care if you live or die. Although his black eyes and hostile body language honestly do scare you a bit, you try not to show it.
“No,” he grits. “Kick me out, I don’t care.”
His words catch you off guard, and you open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out.
“Can I go to sleep now or do I leave?” he asks stoically when you don’t say anything.
You manage to mutter something about how he can go to sleep, and after he closes the bedroom door behind him, you stand there for a few seconds, stunned.
When you return from work the next day, Jeongguk is still in the guest room with the door shut like he was when you left. With a sigh, you contemplate your best course of action, until you decide on an approach. Perhaps you should’ve really considered what he wants.
“Jeongguk?” you knock on his door, “...I understand that you don’t really want to be here. If you want me to, I can call Taehyung and ask if Namjoon is still free to take you?”
You wait a few seconds, not surprised when there is no answer. Letting a few more seconds pass, you then open the door carefully.
“Jeongguk?”
As the gap in the door widens, you spot him, sitting on the bed with his back toward you.
“No.”
His voice sounds like it often does; informative and not very emotional. But you’ve come to know him and his language well enough to know that there’s a lot of feelings inside; he’s just not allowed to express them.
“‘No’ as in…?”
“I don’t want to go.”
You’re relieved. Both because he answered you and because of what that answer was.
“Okay,” you reply softly, “That’s alright. I baked more bread, do you think you could eat something?”
To your relief, he turns his head a little toward you and nods slightly, and a few minutes later, he comes out of his room to eat some home-baked bread.
That same night, you wake up at three a.m., feeling the telltale signs of something approaching; a very familiar sensation that happens once a month, and you pray to the gods to let you off easy this time. It’s hard enough when you’re alone and not caring for a mostly raging hybrid.
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author's note: i hope you liked it!! <3<3
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you didn't know your estranged uncle had a son. Not until said son dumps an unusually large, very angry, kangaroo hybrid on your doorstep, claiming it's only for a few days while your uncle is in hospital.
pairing: kangaroo hybrid!jk x f!reader
genre: hybrid au, angst, mild fluff
word count: 9.2k (the entire fic is 23.3k)
warnings: none besides the inherent ethics of hybrid-keeping and roo!jk's furious stares
author’s note: to be clear, i first started this fic in 2020/2021 (and i will claim to have been first on the kangakoo agenda with my whole chest 😤 even before bts themselves likened jk to a roo) and finished it over the years, so this is all on lo from the past, current lo is innocent
From what you can remember, there was always a sort of sanity that orbited around your mother. It stemmed from her, and it seeped into everyone around her. Her sister, her brother, her child—you.
She had that thing that made you want to respect her. You don't think you ever heard her raise her voice at anyone, never saw her lose it, and that quiet, comforting understanding is what made her such a great parent. Even your father felt the strings of reason pull on his mind.
But it wasn't always like that. Not for him.
Your father doesn't speak to his brother anymore, hasn't for a long time since he tied the knot with your mother, and honestly, it's for the best. At least according to the vague things you've heard through the years. If your mother was logic, then your father came from the opposite, raised by the chaotic hand of insanity.
Having another cousin—this time on your father's side—hadn't crossed your mind until the little notification bell pinged on Facebook, but nonetheless, there he was, same last name and everything.
Through a few surprisingly polite messages, it became clear that he needed your help. And since there was always that chance of him being nothing like his father, you accepted. After all, insanity can clearly skip a generation.
"It's so great to finally meet you. I'm Taehyung," the blonde-haired man exclaims when you meet him outside the predetermined café. He wears an infectious smile as he enters the building and shows you to a table. Right away, you're caught by surprise because, although his Facebook pictures showed a handsome man, he wasn't this good looking. How is he related to your uncle?
You take off your winter jacket, hands finally thawing as you place the coat over the back of your chair. The small café is not an unfamiliar place; Taehyung offered to come to you since you ‘so graciously’ agreed to help. The place is just a few minutes away from your apartment complex.
"You too," you mumble, watching him start to back away with his wallet raised in his hand. At his question concerning your order, you simply recite your usual: coffee and a blueberry muffin.
"I didn't even know you existed," you admit sheepishly when Taehyung returns to place the little tray down on the table.
"Well, it's not that weird, considering my mom only married your uncle a few years ago. I've heard that he doesn't have the best relationships with the rest of the extended family so..."
You nod, taking a bite out of the fluffy muffin. Makes sense. And if your father knows about the marriage, then he never told you. You didn't exactly consult him before you agreed to help Taehyung either, so it's not like it was brought up.
"And now he's sick?"
"Yeah. Well, he actually had a heart transplant two days ago, but they'll keep him at the hospital for a while since it’s a, you know, heart transplant. So that's why this was all on such short notice; you can't pass up a heart just because no one can watch the hybrid, you know?"
"Yeah, no, of course," you're quick to reassure. "I was just surprised, and well, I don't really have any experience with hybrids. I mean, caring for them."
"Yeah, once again, I'm sorry for the short notice. I would've taken him myself if I could, but I can't, and I knew you lived close by," Taehyung explains, large hands wrapped around the coffee as he sips on it. "But it'll only be for a few days until I can find someone else."
You nod hesitantly, wishing you won't have to take care of the hybrid for long because, truth is, it makes you a bit uncomfortable.
"So, you said before that it's a male? What kind of hybrid is he?"
"Oh, yeah. It's a kangaroo hybrid, and his name is Jeongguk. Rescued as a puppy, or whatever they're called, and had a few families before he ended up with us. Can be a bit of a brat if you spoil him, so make sure he knows you're in charge," a confident smile graces his joking lips.
Despite what you first believed, Taehyung isn't actually related to you or your uncle, and that in itself makes it easier to trust him. The other contributing factor is that smile, the somewhat innocent confidence with which he carries himself.
"And I'd keep him inside if I were you, just to be on the safe side, but if you have to go somewhere with him, then remember that he has to wear his collar and never be more than a few feet from you."
If he can see the look on your face, Taehyung doesn't acknowledge it. You know that hybrids can't be left unsupervised by their owners when out in public, but you’d forgotten about the collar.
"So, are you ready to meet him?" Taehyung raises his eyebrows over the drink he's just about to finish up. With his free hand, he’s collecting his wallet and phone to put in his pocket, and then, he’s rising from the chair.
"What? Now?" you ask, still chewing the last bits of the muffin. When Taehyung had been the only one to show, you assumed the hybrid would arrive later. Like, in a day or something.
"Yeah, he's in the car. Unfortunately, he can’t stay with me any longer, so I really have to drop him off today."
You wonder why he didn't bring the hybrid inside the café since they are welcome and it's cold, literally snowing, outside. But you don't say anything, just grab your things—half full paper mug included—and follow the tall man outside.
Hybrids are normally slightly smaller than the average human, mainly derived from house pets such as cats and dogs, although there are definitely other kinds. But the hybrid that steps out of Taehyung's sleek, black car is anything but small.
He's wearing a winter jacket similar to his owner's, only a bit thinner because 'hybrids run warm,' according to Taehyung. It makes it hard to describe his body shape, but it appears they are roughly the same height and size, at least.
He's got the black jacket zipped up to right beneath his chin, and after grabbing a duffel bag from the car, he remains standing there, dark and cold eyes staring you down. You gulp at his intensity.
"H–hello," you stutter nervously, obviously surprised and intimidated but not stunned enough to be rude. However, if you thought it would warm him up, perhaps even grant you a greeting in return, you’re mistaken; the hybrid just glares at you. Until Taehyung intervenes.
"Gguk, be nice," he voices sternly, making Jeongguk soften his glare a tad and bow his head reluctantly in your direction.
While Taehyung introduces the two of you, one thing keeps occupying your mind. Or, well, two things. Jeongguk's ears.
If Taehyung hadn't already told you beforehand what kind of hybrid the dark-haired male was, then the ears would've made you think donkey. And you mean that in the best way. They're big, longer than those of a regular horse but rounder than a rabbit's. And they're dark, almost black. Jeongguk keeps them turned back, a little lowered. He's not scared; they don't convey submission, more... suspicion. He doesn't trust you.
This isn't your first time seeing a hybrid or anything; you've met some of them before, although very briefly. You still consider yourself pretty knowledgeable; you're one of those people who know a little bit about everything, and hybrids aren't an exception. The thing is just that you've never had to put that hybrid knowledge to the test. Besides, the ones you met previously were all mellow, well-behaved, and with their owners. You'd expected a golden retriever puppy but were met with a wolf.
“It’s a birth defect,” Taehyung explains casually after catching your gaze. “They’re not supposed to be black.”
It throws you off, how he speaks of the hybrid, but since neither of them seem to share your opinion, you don’t question it.
Taehyung keeps chatting all the way up to your apartment, his voice becoming elevator music as you glance at the pair through the mirror in front of you.
It's not only the fact that Jeongguk already seems to despise you that makes you lower your gaze quicker than ever when it's met by his sharp, dark eyes.
Taehyung is gorgeous. Dark blonde hair covers most of his forehead except for a little sliver, and he's blessed with dark eyes, framed by long lashes, and that infectious smile. But Jeongguk is more than that; he has something else that catches your eye more so than Taehyung, and it's not his animal features.
When the elevator reaches the fifth floor with a 'ding,' you step out and take the lead. The sound of your keys jingling echoes through the hallway and intensifies when you reach up to unlock the door to your apartment.
"Here it is," you say, back turned against the others as you open the door wide and step inside.
"Cozy," you hear Taehyung compliment even before he's seen more than the first part of your hallway.
"Thank you."
You show Jeongguk where to hang his jacket and put his shoes while Taehyung remains dressed for the outdoors.
"He's not very complicated. Eats anything, sleeps anywhere. He has his clothes and other necessary stuff with him."
As Taehyung speaks, your eyes drift to the male in between you. He's facing you, still in the hallway, and he's wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. It's like he doesn't even hear that he's being talked about, his eyes staring into the air, and his face blank.
You don't think Taehyung is lying. Well, not intentionally. But you hesitate because Jeongguk still hasn't said a single word to you, and it's obvious he does not want to be there.
Taehyung reaches for the door handle.
"Wait!"
He stops to look at you.
"Are you sure?" you ask. It's Taehyung who you're speaking to, but your eyes are still carefully watching Jeongguk. "He doesn't... are you sure this is okay?"
"Look, I really need your help," Taehyung pleads, suddenly way more serious. "It'll be fine, and I'll try to find someone else as soon as possible, so hopefully it's only for a few days."
"Yeah, but he..."
What are you going to say? You won't lie and say the hybrid's hostility doesn't make you uncomfortable, because it does, but you're mostly asking for his sake. He doesn't want to be left with you.
Taehyung's eyes follow yours, but while you watch Jeongguk with worry, Taehyung's gaze burns holes in his head from behind.
"Don't worry, he'll behave. He knows he's not coming home otherwise."
There's a second of silence before Jeongguk gives one determined nod to show that he got it. You're left speechless, and Taehyung reaches for the door handle once again. But before he actually opens the door, he turns back one last time.
"Oh, I almost forgot. He has activities on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. I'll send a friend to pick him up and drive him, but just so you know, he'll be back late." With that, and a small wave your way, Taehyung leaves. And you're all alone with a strange hybrid.
"Well, uh, feel free to look around," you gesture around you before bending down to take off your shoes that you'd forgotten.
Jeongguk does that same kind of nod again, and then he walks past you, giving a clear view of something you didn't see before. His dark tail. Your fingers let go of the laces as you stare up at it in awe. It's huge, could easily sweep the floor after him if he didn't keep it up. Unlike the tails of other animals like, say lions, it's thick and looks a lot stiffer. But it’s still not as thick as the ones you’ve seen on real kangaroos.
Suddenly, Jeongguk stops. He's caught you staring. And now, he's glaring at you. Cheeks tinged pink, you return your attention to your boots, and you can hear Jeongguk disappear further into the apartment.
It doesn't feel good. This whole thing leaves a bad taste in your mouth. You think back to Taehyung's words, even those he said at the café, those you thought were meant as a joke.
Make sure he knows you're in charge? Those practices are outdated and were disproven years ago, even for raising dogs. And if Jeongguk doesn't behave? He's not allowed back home? What does that mean? Where would he go?
Minutes later, you find him in the living room, standing beside your large, gray couch.
"What are your rules?" he asks stoically. "I'm allowed to sleep on the couch back home, just so you know."
You can't help but furrow your eyebrows in confusion. Why does it sound a little like he's bragging?
"Rules? I don't know, uh, don't... intentionally break anything? And I already prepared the guest room for you. Clean sheets in the bed."
"Bed?" Now it's Jeongguk's turn to draw his eyebrows together, although he appears more skeptical. "I prefer the couch."
The way he says it is so confident that it sways you. But you still don't understand why he'd choose the couch over a bed.
"Uh, okay... Well, you can sleep wherever you want, I guess, but you're more than welcome to use the guest room and sleep in the bed there."
Jeongguk seems insistent, but after a very brief tour of your apartment, mostly you pointing to the kitchen and bathroom and assuring that he can take and use whatever he wants, he eventually does retreat to the guest room.
The closed door has you on your toes in the beginning, scared that he’ll appear at any moment and glare you to death, but he never does. You ask through it what he likes to eat, but you don't get an answer, and when you've gone ahead and cooked your favorite food, he doesn't come out to eat, either.
It doesn't feel very good to go to bed without having seen your guest eat anything, but your alarm will go off earlier than you'd really want the morning after, and you think Jeongguk would value being left alone without food higher than being nagged at.
After shutting the alarm off, you stretch your arms over your head and blink the sleep from your eyes. Slowly, you get up to head towards the bathroom, and just as slowly, yesterday’s events come back to you. On your way there, you have to pass by the living room, and when you do, you see him.
If you thought that the kangaroo hybrid locking himself in the guest room meant that he decided to sleep in there too... then you were absolutely wrong. He's tall, but even if he’d chosen to lie straight and not curled up like he is, he’d fit. One of the decorative pillows is under his head, but he doesn't have anything covering him. Not even though there are two soft blankets folded up and draped over the couch.
Your apartment is on the chillier side, and seeing Jeongguk in only a t-shirt and basketball shorts sends a shiver down your spine. Taehyung did say that hybrids run hotter, so you guess it's fine...
It doesn't take you long to get ready. A quick shower, clean clothes, some make-up, and then you're ready to go. You've never been one to eat breakfast, but when you fill a huge bowl with apples, bananas, and oranges, you grab an apple for yourself. You have a feeling that Jeongguk is the type to never want to owe anyone anything, even when there is no debt, but you're hoping he'll at least take some fruit. If he's going to stay multiple days, then he definitely needs to eat.
You could write a note, telling him that you've left for work. You should write the note. But your brain, still half asleep, tiptoes into the living room.
When he's sleeping, Jeongguk looks much nicer. Not at all the harsh looks and mean clench of his jaw. Black locks fall into his face, and the ears look so incredibly soft that you just want to reach out and touch. But that would be weird and not cool. And even if his face looks softer, his choice of sleep attire reveals that, physically, he’s very much capable of beating you to death. He lies on his side, facing you, but it’s still obvious how broad his shoulders are and how the muscles bulge under his skin. There are a few prominent veins stemming from the inside of his biceps and reaching all over his forearms and the backs of his hands.
The apartment really is cold at the moment, and despite Taehyung's words, you notice goosebumps lining the hybrid's naked arms. You step away to reach for the warmest blanket you own, unfolding it and gently draping it over Jeongguk's body. Luckily, it's big enough to even cover the tip of his tail.
And lastly, before you leave, you make the mistake.
"Jeongguk," you speak softly, putting your hand on his shoulder to gently wake him up. But it doesn't quite go as planned when he wakes and immediately slaps your hand off him.
"Don't touch me!" he growls, in a half-seated position and with his ears pinned back. "Don't ever touch me!"
Your blood freezes as you retract your hand and step back as quickly as you can. "I–I'm sorry," you whisper in a panic, so caught off guard, it's not even funny. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to say that I'm leaving for work."
He looks so angry, and the thought that it was you who made something so miscalculated and wrong makes your eyes tear up. But you don't think he notices because you're quick to turn away, and he lies back down again without a word.
You spend the next few hours at work completely thrown off. Black eyes haunt your mind, the way he jumped back to put more distance between you, and his snarled words... It's all burnt into your memory.
You can definitely say you're not in a hurry to get home. Grocery store, clothing shops, you even stop by a florist on your way. But food is the only thing in your bags as you unlock the door to your apartment.
It’s quiet when you enter, except for the sound of the tv, and when you step further into the apartment, your eyes meet. He's on the couch, staring at you. Well, at least he's not trying to end you with his fists. And so you offer him a small smile before you take the bags to the kitchen to unpack.
The fridge looks just as it did when you last checked it; the only sign of the hybrid eating anything is the fruit bowl that seems to be missing a few pieces. You chew on your lip, trying to decide what to cook for dinner. It's already eight p.m.
"Do you have a favorite dish?" you voice without even entering the living room, only approaching to the point you can see Jeongguk’s face.
He keeps his eyes on the tv where some old movie is playing. "No, I eat anything."
"Yeah, but... nothing you like the most?" You hold your breath, desperately wanting to make the morning's misstep up to him but hopefully without angering him again.
"No."
Well, you're not going to push him any further, so you nod and retreat into the kitchen. You just hope he wasn't lying and that you won’t accidentally cook him something that’ll make him hurl.
You end up making a stew, going through your emails while it cooks. The room fills with the smell of food, and you realize how hungry you are. When it’s done, you carry a large bowl of it along with some toasted garlic bread and a glass of water into the living room on a tray.
You notice Jeongguk discreetly sniffing the air as you put the tray down onto the coffee table. It's not directly in front of him due to what happened earlier, you don't want to make him feel suffocated by being too close. Not in any way. He shows no emotions, just looks at you, and you avert your gaze, feeling... embarrassed?
"Can't return you in bad shape," you smile awkwardly and mumble so quietly you doubt he even hears it before you turn around and leave, going back to eat your portion in the safety of the kitchen.
Spoonful after spoonful, you chew the meat while looking out the kitchen window. Most of all, you see the reflection of your own face.
What is Jeongguk's life like at home? You're aware that there are lots of bad hybrid owners who abuse the ones that need them the most, but except for Taehyung's parting words and that joke, there aren't any indicators that Jeongguk is being mistreated. Right?
He seems healthy. He might not have the hugest of appetites at your place, but he looks far from malnourished. It's not like he's small and defenseless either. However Jeongguk is treated, the fact that he despises you remains. You just don't understand why.
Jeongguk doesn't lock himself away inside the guest room that night, but he doesn't sleep in there either, still preferring the couch for some reason. At least he ate everything you put on that tray.
And when you leave for work the next morning, you don't make the same mistake again. You simply leave without saying anything to the hybrid curled up on the couch.
It isn't quite as late when you return home as it was the day before, and when you step into the hallway, you see Jeongguk bent over his duffel bag, seemingly... packing?
He zips it closed and stands up, eyes meeting yours. No greeting, but you honestly don't expect anything of the kind anymore.
"Are you going somewhere?" you ask, confused but minding your tone as to not sound accusing.
"It's Tuesday. Jimin is waiting." He walks around you where you stand, reaching for his jacket from the hanger. You step away, maybe too fast and too noticeable, but you really don't want to anger him by accidentally brushing against him. If he notices, he doesn't show it.
"Oh," you look away, embarrassed because you’d definitely forgotten. "When will you be back?"
“Don’t know.”
“Oh, okay. Be safe,” you speak, but he’s almost entirely out the door before you’ve finished. It’s not like you even know where he’s going or what he’s doing, and you certainly don’t think he’d appreciate you asking.
With a sigh, you lock the door behind him.
Taehyung said that Jeongguk would be late, but as movie after movie ends, and there’s still no sign of the hybrid, you begin to worry.
He left at around six p.m., and midnight passed an hour ago when you send a somewhat panicked text to Taehyung, asking if Jeongguk shouldn’t have returned by now.
‘Yeah, he should.’
You lick your lips as your anxious heart beats faster. What if something’s happened to him?
Before you’re able to ask what you’re going to do, Taehyung sends another text.
‘The gps in his chip shows he’s at yours, though?’
What?
You watched Jeongguk leave, and if he returned, you would’ve heard it. Still, with phone in hand and Taehyung’s messages open, you look through all the rooms.
No kangaroo hybrid to be seen.
The very last thing you do before you’ll admit defeat is to check the stairwell. There’s absolutely no reason Jeongguk would be there, but when the door glides open… he is. He sits on the stairs leading a floor up, with his bag beside him, jacket folded over his lap, and blood coming from his mouth.
“Oh my god, what happened?”
For a brief second, Jeongguk meets your eyes and looks… surprised? But it soon evolves into that familiar look of irritation as he regains control over the muscles of his face.
“Nothing.”
It’s clearly not nothing, and still very much worried, you open the door all the way and motion for him to enter.
“Let’s get you inside and cleaned up.”
But of course, you should’ve expected him to fight.
“It’s just a busted lip,” he argues quietly but still rises from the stairs and grabs his duffel bag by its handles.
“But you’re bleeding…”
When you peer back at him, you notice that he’s put the sleeve of the jacket he’s not wearing pressed to his mouth as if he hadn’t known the red liquid was still seeping from the wound. Also like he rather stains his jacket than your floor.
The first thing you do is head to the kitchen to retrieve some tissues, offering them up to Jeongguk when you return to the hallway.
“Why don’t you take a quick shower, and I can take a look at your lip after?” you suggest because not only is the hybrid injured, but he looks to have sweated a lot.
Reluctantly, he accepts the tissues, replacing the sleeve of his jacket with them and putting pressure on his lip. The jacket gets hung on a hanger, and then Jeongguk leaves, gathering a change of clothes and a towel from the guest room before he enters the bathroom, huffing angrily the entire time.
With the sound of the shower running as background noise, you sway from foot to foot in the kitchen, biting at your nails. What happened that resulted in such an injury? Why was he so sweaty? And what kind of friend was this ‘Jimin’ if he didn’t bother to clean Jeongguk up? Make sure he got home properly? Well, not home home, but still.
The sound of the bathroom door unlocking and opening is what snaps you out of your thoughts, and you go to meet him right outside. He’s wearing a new set of sleep attire, although the same style as yesterday; a black t-shirt and some gray shorts. His hair is wet but it doesn’t drip, and you fight the urge to just… stare at his ears. They’re partially pinned back like they always are, but when they and his black locks are wet, they’re more prominent and, well, cute.
Jeongguk observes you with suspicion and with paper still pressed to his mouth.
“Let me see?” you ask, trying to sound as non-threatening as possible.
“It’s nothing,” he grumbles the same words from earlier.
“Please?” You’re no expert on wounds but what if he needs professional care? How are you supposed to sleep without knowing?
“No,” he answers strictly and makes an attempt to walk around you. But you step in front of him, blocking his way.
Jeongguk stares down at you, but you can’t let it go. Not if he’s in pain and it could be somewhat serious.
“Weren’t you supposed to behave?” you remind sternly, and you can see the way a flash of surprise washes over his face before he’s pressing his lips together and clenching his jaw. You would never tell Taehyung, or anyone, that Jeongguk was misbehaving, not when you still don’t know what the consequences might be, and certainly not for something so insignificant.
But Jeongguk doesn’t know that.
With a cold glare, he lowers the tissue. But it’s too dark in the hallway, so you ask him to follow you back inside the bathroom where the ceiling lights are bordering on surgical.
Without touching him, you motion to the spot where you want him to stand, in front of the washing machine, and then, you rise to your toes to get a better look, trying to ignore the way his glare makes your intimidated heart beat faster.
You have to stop yourself from grasping his chin and so instead, your hand floats a few inches from his face. It makes it more difficult to see how deep the gash is when you can’t move his face around, but it will have to do. After all, you haven’t forgotten how he reacted to your touch the first time. First and last time.
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” he grumbles.
You lace your voice with that sternness again while looking him straight in the eye. “Are you lying?”
Your courage surprises you because Jeongguk is a lot bigger than you. He towers over you, and he’s fit and muscular, you’ve already established that. He’s also not very happy or fond of you, but glaring at you is the farthest he will go, you’re already a hundred percent certain of that. It doesn’t matter that his lip is wounded and that someone else might also be sporting injuries and bruises. If he wanted to hurt you, he would’ve done so already.
When he doesn’t say anything, only keeps his cold stare on you, you know two things. What the answer to your question is, and how to handle him. If necessary, that is, you don’t particularly enjoy threatening him.
Even though his lip is painful, Jeongguk’s wound doesn’t look too serious. And by that, you mean not serious enough for you to drag him to your car and speed toward the closest hybrid doctor. But you sink down from your toes as your eyebrows draw together.
When you open your mouth this time, your voice is softer. “So… what happened?”
He’s so pretty, he really is. You think back to the vision of him sleeping and how innocent and carefree he seemed. You’ve never seen him be anything besides angry while awake, and you absolutely hate that he feels the need to always be so guarded and hostile. And, of course, you also hate that someone, a few hours ago, split his skin open and made him bleed.
Taking advantage of the way you’ve softened, Jeongguk mutters, “Nothing,” and sidesteps you, disappearing through the door.
But you follow.
He’s about to pull back one of the blankets on the couch when you catch up, and you immediately gather all of that determination again.
“Nuh-uh, you’re not sleeping there.”
He halts his movements, standing there with the corner of the blanket in his hand, and you can see, even from the distance, how his grip tightens and jaw clenches. Then, he drops the blanket, still looking at it where it lies on the couch.
“When should I be back? Or should I not bother?” he mutters.
You don’t give yourself time to absolutely break at his words. “Guest room. Now.”
You turn on your heel, not staying to make sure he’s actually following, but as you open the door to the guest room, there he is, right behind you and obeying.
“This is where you’re sleeping.”
“No.”
“Yes, you are. I’ll lock you in here, I don’t care.”
“I can’t. There will be hair on the sheets. Maybe blood as well.”
“You listen to me. I don’t care. You’re sleeping in here, and if I wake up tomorrow to find you sleeping somewhere else other than in that bed, I will not be happy.”
For a few seconds, Jeongguk seems to believe that if he challenges you to an angry stare-off–and wins–you’ll surrender. However, you don’t give up that easily, and when those seconds have passed, you still gesture determinedly towards the bed.
“Get in. Now.”
Huffing, he passes you, and you watch as he reaches the bed and reluctantly pulls the white covers back like he had tried to do with the blanket, and gets inside. He doesn’t lie down, just sits there, watching you.
You point your finger at him. “Stay there, I’ll be back in a second.”
Without waiting for any kind of answer you don’t think he’d give you anyway, you return to the bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet in search of some painkillers. You pop a pill into your palm and on your way back to the guest room, you stop by the kitchen to get a glass of water as well.
Jeongguk remains in the same exact position you left him in, and he follows your figure with his eyes as you approach him to place the two things on the bedside table.
The second you straighten up, you suddenly remember something. Not used to sounding so harsh, you almost slip back into your usual voice and choice of words but manage to stop yourself at the last second. You clear your throat.
“Did you eat today?”
You’re taller than him when you’re standing and he’s sitting, but his eyes hold the same hostility as when he’d been towering over you previously.
“Yes,” he grits.
“When?” you push.
He stares at you with those eyes of death before he finally gives up. “Eleven,” he grits, staring right into your soul.
“A.m.? P.m.?”
“A.m.”
To be honest, it doesn’t surprise you, even if you feel terrible. But you don’t allow yourself to soften now either, knowing he won’t listen if you do.
“Okay. Here’s the deal, you’re going to sleep in here, in this bed, but not after you’ve eaten. Get it?”
Jeongguk doesn’t give you an answer, not even a nod of his head until you urge further. “Understood?”
And when he does, you march out of that room and into the kitchen where you’re pulling out the rest of what you cooked for dinner, the portion of lasagna he didn’t get to eat when he didn’t come home and that you forgot all about when the worry had started to set in.
It’s only when the microwave beeps that Jeongguk shows up, not exactly ecstatic but what’s new? You place the plate, a set of utensils, and another glass of water on the table, and then you wait until he turns the chair sideways and sits down.
You won’t deny how cute you find it that he prefers to sit like that, with his tail hanging towards the floor behind him. It makes sense that it’s more comfortable for him though, the tail isn’t as flexible as that of something like a cat.
You might be pretending to be mean—you wouldn’t think you’re doing a great job if it weren’t for the way Jeongguk is actually obeying—but even then, you decide to not be so weird as to stand and watch him eat.
Instead, you turn your back to him and busy yourself with the few plates needing to be washed, and you boil some water.
While he eats, Jeongguk doesn’t pay you any attention as you come and go. He just sits there and eats, and you can’t even tell if your cooking is the best he’s ever had or if it tastes like something out of a dumpster.
Before he’s finished, you have: done some dishes, taken out the trash, cleaned the microwave and wiped down the counter, and lastly, filled a hot water bottle and hidden it between the sheets in Jeongguk’s bed.
It’s not like you’ve missed the seemingly always-present goosebumps on his skin or the way he’ll sometimes rub at his arms when he thinks you aren’t looking. One Google search quickly informed you that, yeah, hybrids typically do run warmer, but it depends on the species, and Jeongguk, well, he’s a kangaroo hybrid. Not exactly an animal usually found at the poles. And since your apartment is chillier than average, you retrieved the blue hot water bottle from its forgotten place in your little storage closet.
When you return to the kitchen, Jeongguk has finished eating and is washing the plate and utensils in the sink. You would’ve gladly done it for him, but since he hasn’t spotted you, you back away quietly.
After a minute or so, he exits the kitchen, and you—typing a text to a friend despite the late hour—call out when he passes the guest room.
“Was gonna brush my teeth first…” he informs arrogantly, and you feel your cheeks heat up.
“Alright, do that. And then, straight to bed.”
You choose to wait a few minutes after he’s retreated into the guest room to follow him, knocking on the closed door. “Jeongguk?”
As expected, he doesn’t answer, so you wait a few more seconds—enough for him to cover himself if he happened to be naked—and then you open the door slowly.
He’s watching you from the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard and the white covers over his lap.
“Why were you in the stairwell earlier?” you ask, not bothering to beat around the bush.
Again, to no one’s surprise, he just stares harshly at you until you raise your eyebrows expectantly.
“I can’t disturb you.”
Oh, how your heart hurts. You let go of the door handle, stepping into the room to sit on the edge of the bed, as far away from the hybrid as you can.
“Were you going to stay there? All night?”
The pain in your voice is evident, and in that moment, something happens. Jeongguk doesn’t answer you, but he also turns his head away, tired eyes looking at the floor.
“Do you really think I’d go to bed without knowing where you were? That you were safe? I was waiting for you.”
Your eyes become glassy as you take in the being before you. Someone forced to be dependent on others, and who has learned not to make noise. He was going to sleep in the stairwell because he knew he shouldn’t bother you if you were sleeping already.
“You’re not a bother. Not to me.”
You don’t wait for an answer this time, feeling like the day has been emotional and draining enough, and after leaving the guest room with a whispered ‘good night,’ you spend an hour trying to fall asleep.
He hadn’t stretched his legs out enough to feel the hot water bottle when you sat with him, and you smile sadly as you try to imagine his reaction to the warmth. One thing’s for sure; Jeongguk deserves better.
In contrast to the letters you’re scribbling down, you’re smiling, and it’s with light hands and a quietly hummed melody you’re attaching the yellow sticky note to the pile of plastic wrapped waffles.
‘EAT!!!’
The plate goes into the fridge since you don’t know when Jeongguk will be up, and you’ll soon head to work.
Thirty more minutes roll by, until all that's left to do is to relay some information to Jeongguk. Softly, you knock on his door, opening it slightly when half a minute passes with no reply.
Instantly, you smile to yourself. The hybrid is all cuddled up in the bed; a surprisingly small ball covered in white. And at the top, his peaceful face, black locks and ears, and just a little bit of blue stick out.
The hot water bottle. He looks to be hugging it close to his body, content even though it’s long lost its heat.
“Jeongguk?”
He stirs at your quiet call of his name, but he doesn’t wake. And in the process, his arm peeks out from under the covers. You were going to call for him again, but his name dies on your tongue.
There are bruises lining his arm. You didn’t see them last night, and they’re still only a purplish red, meaning that they’re not very old.
The discovery leaves a bad taste in your mouth, and you close the door, looking for a piece of paper, preferably a bit larger than the sticky notes.
Despite starting off with a bit of sadness, your day at work is better than the previous ones, mostly because of the small break-through you think you witnessed the night before. It felt as if, without even really saying anything, Jeongguk opened up a little bit, and that makes you happy.
The moment you step back inside the apartment, you hear the telltale sound of Mario Kart, and you smile to yourself as you remove your jacket and shoes.
On your way to the living room, you stop by the kitchen to see the plate that held the waffles empty and beside it, the note you left.
‘Jeongguk, a friend of mine called Yoongi will stop by and install something for us today. He’s really nice, so I hope you’ll be nice to him as well!’
You hope that some entertainment might make Jeongguk’s stay a little more pleasant, and from what you see when you enter the living room, you’re happy with your decision.
Very briefly, dark eyes meet yours before they’re back on the screen to pause the game.
“Oh, I don’t mind if you play,” you exclaim, guessing that telling him that you specifically asked Yoongi to install it for him, wouldn’t be the best of ideas, even if Jeongguk surely knows it.
However, Jeongguk keeps it paused, watching you. He doesn’t look friendly, nor does he smile, but he... doesn’t look furious. Not like you just murdered his entire family.
“So, it went alright? When Yoongi stopped by?”
The hybrid gives his typical short nod, and you make a mental note to ask your friend as well. Mostly for your own curiosity.
Still satisfied with the albeit short exchange, you exit the living room to head into the kitchen, pulling out ingredients and tools onto the counter. You’ve been craving your grandmother’s homemade bread for literal weeks but haven’t had the time to bake until now.
A few minutes later, while you’re elbows deep into mixing the dough, two things happen almost simultaneously.
Jeongguk walks into the kitchen and with his polite but still somewhat stoic voice asks, “Can I have some water?”
To which you step aside to give him access to the tap, ensuring, “Of course! Just take whatever you want or need.”
And your phone rings.
It lies on the kitchen table, and with your relatively clean pinky, you answer the call, putting it on speaker.
“Hello?” you greet, sticky hands held in the air.
“Hi, it’s Taehyung!”
You freeze at the friendly voice. To say that your feelings and thoughts of Taehyung have changed during the past few days is an understatement. Or... well, you think. No one’s really explicitly told you anything, it’s mostly just signs, implications, and your own gut feeling.
You hope he’s just calling to check in.
“Oh, hi. How are you? And Jihoon?”
“We’re good! He’s still recovering. You know, a procedure of that kind is tough on the body, not to mention if you’re over fifty. They’re keeping him a bit longer, even if he tries to make them let him go earlier,” Taehyung laughs.
“Yeah,” you agree politely, “He should listen to the doctors and take it easy.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell him. But anyway, I’ve got some good news for you!”
You glance worriedly at the phone. Good news?
“Oh?”
“Yeah! I spoke with a friend earlier, and he offered to take Jeongguk. He had some things to do out of town, but seems like he’ll be able to reschedule and take him after all. And I just spoke with Jimin; he’s close by and can pick Jeongguk up in half an hour if that works for you?”
“Half an hour?” you repeat with your heart falling.
When you turn around, Jeongguk stands behind you, sipping water from a glass and staring out the window. You don’t even see his entire profile, but he, as usual, doesn’t show very much emotion.
“Yeah.”
“And this friend...? Who... What’s his name?”
It’s not like you expect to know the person, but you can’t help it. You feel like you need to know.
“Namjoon,” Taehyung answers, and you see Jeongguk’s shoulders falling slightly, and what little you see of his face loses whatever tiny little glimpse of emotion it had before. “Don’t worry, he and Jeongguk know each other.”
It doesn’t take very long for you to come to a decision. The hybrid might not like you, but... you can at least guarantee he’s being looked after properly. That he has a bed to sleep in, all the food he can eat, and... someone who cares for him. And most importantly, you don’t know this Namjoon, but you guess that Jeongguk would rather stay with you judging by his reaction.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind if he stays.”
Taehyung is silent for a second, and you’ve turned away from Jeongguk, so if he reacts in any way, you don’t see it.
“Really? Are you sure? I mean, I know he can be a handful,” he chuckles.
“I promise, it’s fine. He’s not so bad.”
It’s not even a lie. Or maybe he is just a tad bit difficult sometimes, but you’ve already come to the conclusion that if anything, it’s not Jeongguk’s fault. The image of the kangaroo hybrid, all snuggled up to the hot water bottle in bed, flashes before your eyes. That alone is worth it.
“Oh... Well, okay then. That’s very generous of you, so thank you. I’ll let Jimin and Namjoon know.”
You don’t like Taehyung’s words or how surprised and even grateful he sounds. No wonder Jeongguk thinks he’s a burden, and you don’t even know how they treat him at home.
“Yeah, no problem.”
There are a few more sentences exchanged before you hang up—Jeongguk long gone from the kitchen by then—and you can resume your baking. It hits you then just how little you want Jeongguk to go home. To go anywhere. But you don’t think there’s really anything you can do; hybrids have few rights and are basically nothing more than possessions in the eyes of society.
“Can I play?”
Jeongguk looks at you where you stand beside the couch, and immediately, he pauses the game and holds the controller out to you. All while looking... stoic. There’s still almost always that underlying anger. Like he loathes humans so much, and that yes, he will obey, but only because he has to. A part of you wonders how his ‘caretakers’ succeeded in making someone so stubborn and strong comply; another part doesn’t even want to imagine it.
“Oh, I meant with you? There’s another controller, right?”
Stepping in front of the tv, you crouch to look through the little box Yoongi left with games. And, yeah, there it is. You pull it out, fiddling a little with it in your hands as you move to sit down on the couch. With adequate space between you and the hybrid, of course.
“So, I’ve only played Mario Kart once and that was like... years and years ago. Do you think, maybe you could... teach me?”
Jeongguk looks at you, a softer than usual look of surprise on his face. His eyebrows are a tiny bit raised and his lips just slightly parted.
“I’ve never played before today.”
“Really? It certainly looks like you know what you’re doing,” you chuckle, noticing how his eyes flicker subtly in something other than anger?
“Uh, yeah... Yoongi showed me the controls.”
You make a mental note to send flowers and some kind of gift basket to Yoongi’s home. In a way, it doesn’t surprise you that the calm and almost somber-looking man was able to interact with the very suspicious hybrid. Yoongi doesn’t ponder too much; he’s more straight—but calmly so—to the point.
“Will you show them to me, then?”
He nods, and with the controller in his hands, shows you what the buttons do and when to press them. When you feel like you’ve refreshed your memory enough to give it a shot, Jeongguk restarts the game. Of course, the hybrid’s superior reflexes and the few hours he already spent playing lead to his victory. The first time, you can see that he isn’t sure how to act, almost as if he knows not to seem satisfied with winning, but when all you do is complain about your own performance in a lighthearted way and compliment his, he smiles.
The thirty minutes you spent gaming influence the rest of the night, and you smile to yourself as you refill the hot water bottle for Jeongguk right before bed time. He doesn’t acknowledge the gesture, but he doesn’t argue it either, and that’s a win in your book, at least.
However, the next day—thursday—he’s back to being a grump, and at first, you have no idea why. Then it hits you. Thursdays mean ‘activity,’ which probably in turn means fighting. As a result, he’s holed up in the guest room for most of the day, eating only an apple and a banana after you open the door and physically place them and a big water bottle inside.
A few minutes before Jimin is supposed to pick Jeongguk up, you approach the tall hybrid in the hallway.
“So, what is it that you do? Are you… fighting?” you ask, trying to keep your worry and distaste out of your words.
He doesn’t answer, but you can feel his irritation grow and see his ears swivel back, which you by now can tell means that he’s not happy. Maybe you weren’t very successful.
“Are they making you fight?”
Again, he remains quiet, zipping the bag shut.
“Can’t you just answer me for once?” you question, sounding more frustrated than you intended to.
“No.”
You lick your lips, silently cursing at yourself. Things were going so well. If you hadn’t asked—almost accused him—maybe his anger would’ve dwindled naturally.
“Do I come back?” he asks instead, staring at the wall, and you feel the heat radiating as his blood boils. He’s wondering if you’re kicking him out to the street for not answering your question.
“Come back? Of course,” you assure him, your own frustration exchanged for heartache and your voice taking on a softer tone once more. “I have an extra key you can have if that makes you more comfortable?”
“No,” he declines.
“Okay, but promise me you’ll knock, no matter the time?”
You think he’s about to nod, or at least give you some sort of answer, but you’re interrupted by the doorbell.
You linger just inside the closed front door after they’ve left, wondering what you should do to pass the time. Whether you want to or not, you worry a whole lot about Jeongguk, hoping desperately he won’t come back injured.
While you wait, you decide to take the opportunity to cook for him. You’ve tried googling what kangaroo hybrids typically like to eat, but it hasn’t given you a very clear answer, so you settle on a pasta dish. You make sure to use extra cream and to also make him a dessert of banana slices with peanut butter. If he doesn’t want to eat like he should, you can at least try to pack as many calories into what he does eat.
Then, you retrieve the first aid kit, just in case, and the last thing you do before sinking down on the couch to wait in front of the TV is to fluff his pillows and place the filled hot water bottle between the sheets. Hopefully his bed will be warm and ready whenever he returns.
Despite finding a very interesting documentary to watch, you can’t stop yourself, checking your watch as well as the stairwell outside your apartment now and again.
Whether he’d actually knock or try to stay outside again, you won’t actually know because at two-thirty a.m., you hear the slightest of noise from outside and go to open the door, seeing Jeongguk approach.
If you hoped whatever he’s doing with Jimin would’ve made him more at ease, well, it didn’t. He doesn’t greet you, stepping inside and placing his duffel bag on the floor. You try to get a good look at him to see if he is injured, but he appears to move smoothly and without pain, and there’s nothing on his face that seems hurt either.
Unfortunately, Jeongguk doesn’t appreciate the things you did for him while you waited. He scoffs at the bowl of pasta you bring him when he comes out of the shower, and you won’t deny that it breaks your heart a little bit. Even more so when he peers into the guest room, seeing the fluffed pillows.
“I’m not a human nor a baby.”
Unsure of what to do, you give sternness another try. “Eat, Jeongguk.”
But he turns fully toward you, looking down at you like he doesn’t care if you live or die. Although his black eyes and hostile body language honestly do scare you a bit, you try not to show it.
“No,” he grits. “Kick me out, I don’t care.”
His words catch you off guard, and you open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out.
“Can I go to sleep now or do I leave?” he asks stoically when you don’t say anything.
You manage to mutter something about how he can go to sleep, and after he closes the bedroom door behind him, you stand there for a few seconds, stunned.
When you return from work the next day, Jeongguk is still in the guest room with the door shut like he was when you left. With a sigh, you contemplate your best course of action, until you decide on an approach. Perhaps you should’ve really considered what he wants.
“Jeongguk?” you knock on his door, “...I understand that you don’t really want to be here. If you want me to, I can call Taehyung and ask if Namjoon is still free to take you?”
You wait a few seconds, not surprised when there is no answer. Letting a few more seconds pass, you then open the door carefully.
“Jeongguk?”
As the gap in the door widens, you spot him, sitting on the bed with his back toward you.
“No.”
His voice sounds like it often does; informative and not very emotional. But you’ve come to know him and his language well enough to know that there’s a lot of feelings inside; he’s just not allowed to express them.
“‘No’ as in…?”
“I don’t want to go.”
You’re relieved. Both because he answered you and because of what that answer was.
“Okay,” you reply softly, “That’s alright. I baked more bread, do you think you could eat something?”
To your relief, he turns his head a little toward you and nods slightly, and a few minutes later, he comes out of his room to eat some home-baked bread.
That same night, you wake up at three a.m., feeling the telltale signs of something approaching; a very familiar sensation that happens once a month, and you pray to the gods to let you off easy this time. It’s hard enough when you’re alone and not caring for a mostly raging hybrid.
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author's note: i hope you liked it!! <3<3
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I just remembered today donor what happened to that
i discontinued it here because just after i posted the first part, i had a traumatic experience and received very entitled and demeaning comments that soured the entire story for me, unfortunately.
i might’ve asked this at some point already (my memory is terrible, my apologies) but do you think there will ever be any sort of continuation to young spy? 👉🏻👈🏻
the ending of it is honestly so perfect it really doesn’t need anything added to it, but it was the first fic i read by you and it just kinda always stays in the back of my mind yk? it’s one of those things that’s just too good to let go of, i guess 🥹💔
no worries!! thank you so, so much, it means a lot that you like it! ♥️ i have a continuation in my mind but it's unlikely i'll ever actually write it due to multiple reasons... (it being kinda similar to another fic being one but that's not really a reason anymore). i'll see if maybe i can write a quick drabble of the "aftemath" if i find some time?
you didn't know your estranged uncle had a son. Not until said son dumps an unusually large, very angry, kangaroo hybrid on your doorstep, claiming it's only for a few days while your uncle is in hospital.
pairing: kangaroo hybrid!jk x f!reader
genre: hybrid au, angst, mild fluff
word count: 9.2k (the entire fic is 23.3k)
warnings: none besides the inherent ethics of hybrid-keeping and roo!jk's furious stares
author’s note: to be clear, i first started this fic in 2020/2021 (and i will claim to have been first on the kangakoo agenda with my whole chest 😤 even before bts themselves likened jk to a roo) and finished it over the years, so this is all on lo from the past, current lo is innocent
From what you can remember, there was always a sort of sanity that orbited around your mother. It stemmed from her, and it seeped into everyone around her. Her sister, her brother, her child—you.
She had that thing that made you want to respect her. You don't think you ever heard her raise her voice at anyone, never saw her lose it, and that quiet, comforting understanding is what made her such a great parent. Even your father felt the strings of reason pull on his mind.
But it wasn't always like that. Not for him.
Your father doesn't speak to his brother anymore, hasn't for a long time since he tied the knot with your mother, and honestly, it's for the best. At least according to the vague things you've heard through the years. If your mother was logic, then your father came from the opposite, raised by the chaotic hand of insanity.
Having another cousin—this time on your father's side—hadn't crossed your mind until the little notification bell pinged on Facebook, but nonetheless, there he was, same last name and everything.
Through a few surprisingly polite messages, it became clear that he needed your help. And since there was always that chance of him being nothing like his father, you accepted. After all, insanity can clearly skip a generation.
"It's so great to finally meet you. I'm Taehyung," the blonde-haired man exclaims when you meet him outside the predetermined café. He wears an infectious smile as he enters the building and shows you to a table. Right away, you're caught by surprise because, although his Facebook pictures showed a handsome man, he wasn't this good looking. How is he related to your uncle?
You take off your winter jacket, hands finally thawing as you place the coat over the back of your chair. The small café is not an unfamiliar place; Taehyung offered to come to you since you ‘so graciously’ agreed to help. The place is just a few minutes away from your apartment complex.
"You too," you mumble, watching him start to back away with his wallet raised in his hand. At his question concerning your order, you simply recite your usual: coffee and a blueberry muffin.
"I didn't even know you existed," you admit sheepishly when Taehyung returns to place the little tray down on the table.
"Well, it's not that weird, considering my mom only married your uncle a few years ago. I've heard that he doesn't have the best relationships with the rest of the extended family so..."
You nod, taking a bite out of the fluffy muffin. Makes sense. And if your father knows about the marriage, then he never told you. You didn't exactly consult him before you agreed to help Taehyung either, so it's not like it was brought up.
"And now he's sick?"
"Yeah. Well, he actually had a heart transplant two days ago, but they'll keep him at the hospital for a while since it’s a, you know, heart transplant. So that's why this was all on such short notice; you can't pass up a heart just because no one can watch the hybrid, you know?"
"Yeah, no, of course," you're quick to reassure. "I was just surprised, and well, I don't really have any experience with hybrids. I mean, caring for them."
"Yeah, once again, I'm sorry for the short notice. I would've taken him myself if I could, but I can't, and I knew you lived close by," Taehyung explains, large hands wrapped around the coffee as he sips on it. "But it'll only be for a few days until I can find someone else."
You nod hesitantly, wishing you won't have to take care of the hybrid for long because, truth is, it makes you a bit uncomfortable.
"So, you said before that it's a male? What kind of hybrid is he?"
"Oh, yeah. It's a kangaroo hybrid, and his name is Jeongguk. Rescued as a puppy, or whatever they're called, and had a few families before he ended up with us. Can be a bit of a brat if you spoil him, so make sure he knows you're in charge," a confident smile graces his joking lips.
Despite what you first believed, Taehyung isn't actually related to you or your uncle, and that in itself makes it easier to trust him. The other contributing factor is that smile, the somewhat innocent confidence with which he carries himself.
"And I'd keep him inside if I were you, just to be on the safe side, but if you have to go somewhere with him, then remember that he has to wear his collar and never be more than a few feet from you."
If he can see the look on your face, Taehyung doesn't acknowledge it. You know that hybrids can't be left unsupervised by their owners when out in public, but you’d forgotten about the collar.
"So, are you ready to meet him?" Taehyung raises his eyebrows over the drink he's just about to finish up. With his free hand, he’s collecting his wallet and phone to put in his pocket, and then, he’s rising from the chair.
"What? Now?" you ask, still chewing the last bits of the muffin. When Taehyung had been the only one to show, you assumed the hybrid would arrive later. Like, in a day or something.
"Yeah, he's in the car. Unfortunately, he can’t stay with me any longer, so I really have to drop him off today."
You wonder why he didn't bring the hybrid inside the café since they are welcome and it's cold, literally snowing, outside. But you don't say anything, just grab your things—half full paper mug included—and follow the tall man outside.
Hybrids are normally slightly smaller than the average human, mainly derived from house pets such as cats and dogs, although there are definitely other kinds. But the hybrid that steps out of Taehyung's sleek, black car is anything but small.
He's wearing a winter jacket similar to his owner's, only a bit thinner because 'hybrids run warm,' according to Taehyung. It makes it hard to describe his body shape, but it appears they are roughly the same height and size, at least.
He's got the black jacket zipped up to right beneath his chin, and after grabbing a duffel bag from the car, he remains standing there, dark and cold eyes staring you down. You gulp at his intensity.
"H–hello," you stutter nervously, obviously surprised and intimidated but not stunned enough to be rude. However, if you thought it would warm him up, perhaps even grant you a greeting in return, you’re mistaken; the hybrid just glares at you. Until Taehyung intervenes.
"Gguk, be nice," he voices sternly, making Jeongguk soften his glare a tad and bow his head reluctantly in your direction.
While Taehyung introduces the two of you, one thing keeps occupying your mind. Or, well, two things. Jeongguk's ears.
If Taehyung hadn't already told you beforehand what kind of hybrid the dark-haired male was, then the ears would've made you think donkey. And you mean that in the best way. They're big, longer than those of a regular horse but rounder than a rabbit's. And they're dark, almost black. Jeongguk keeps them turned back, a little lowered. He's not scared; they don't convey submission, more... suspicion. He doesn't trust you.
This isn't your first time seeing a hybrid or anything; you've met some of them before, although very briefly. You still consider yourself pretty knowledgeable; you're one of those people who know a little bit about everything, and hybrids aren't an exception. The thing is just that you've never had to put that hybrid knowledge to the test. Besides, the ones you met previously were all mellow, well-behaved, and with their owners. You'd expected a golden retriever puppy but were met with a wolf.
“It’s a birth defect,” Taehyung explains casually after catching your gaze. “They’re not supposed to be black.”
It throws you off, how he speaks of the hybrid, but since neither of them seem to share your opinion, you don’t question it.
Taehyung keeps chatting all the way up to your apartment, his voice becoming elevator music as you glance at the pair through the mirror in front of you.
It's not only the fact that Jeongguk already seems to despise you that makes you lower your gaze quicker than ever when it's met by his sharp, dark eyes.
Taehyung is gorgeous. Dark blonde hair covers most of his forehead except for a little sliver, and he's blessed with dark eyes, framed by long lashes, and that infectious smile. But Jeongguk is more than that; he has something else that catches your eye more so than Taehyung, and it's not his animal features.
When the elevator reaches the fifth floor with a 'ding,' you step out and take the lead. The sound of your keys jingling echoes through the hallway and intensifies when you reach up to unlock the door to your apartment.
"Here it is," you say, back turned against the others as you open the door wide and step inside.
"Cozy," you hear Taehyung compliment even before he's seen more than the first part of your hallway.
"Thank you."
You show Jeongguk where to hang his jacket and put his shoes while Taehyung remains dressed for the outdoors.
"He's not very complicated. Eats anything, sleeps anywhere. He has his clothes and other necessary stuff with him."
As Taehyung speaks, your eyes drift to the male in between you. He's facing you, still in the hallway, and he's wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. It's like he doesn't even hear that he's being talked about, his eyes staring into the air, and his face blank.
You don't think Taehyung is lying. Well, not intentionally. But you hesitate because Jeongguk still hasn't said a single word to you, and it's obvious he does not want to be there.
Taehyung reaches for the door handle.
"Wait!"
He stops to look at you.
"Are you sure?" you ask. It's Taehyung who you're speaking to, but your eyes are still carefully watching Jeongguk. "He doesn't... are you sure this is okay?"
"Look, I really need your help," Taehyung pleads, suddenly way more serious. "It'll be fine, and I'll try to find someone else as soon as possible, so hopefully it's only for a few days."
"Yeah, but he..."
What are you going to say? You won't lie and say the hybrid's hostility doesn't make you uncomfortable, because it does, but you're mostly asking for his sake. He doesn't want to be left with you.
Taehyung's eyes follow yours, but while you watch Jeongguk with worry, Taehyung's gaze burns holes in his head from behind.
"Don't worry, he'll behave. He knows he's not coming home otherwise."
There's a second of silence before Jeongguk gives one determined nod to show that he got it. You're left speechless, and Taehyung reaches for the door handle once again. But before he actually opens the door, he turns back one last time.
"Oh, I almost forgot. He has activities on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. I'll send a friend to pick him up and drive him, but just so you know, he'll be back late." With that, and a small wave your way, Taehyung leaves. And you're all alone with a strange hybrid.
"Well, uh, feel free to look around," you gesture around you before bending down to take off your shoes that you'd forgotten.
Jeongguk does that same kind of nod again, and then he walks past you, giving a clear view of something you didn't see before. His dark tail. Your fingers let go of the laces as you stare up at it in awe. It's huge, could easily sweep the floor after him if he didn't keep it up. Unlike the tails of other animals like, say lions, it's thick and looks a lot stiffer. But it’s still not as thick as the ones you’ve seen on real kangaroos.
Suddenly, Jeongguk stops. He's caught you staring. And now, he's glaring at you. Cheeks tinged pink, you return your attention to your boots, and you can hear Jeongguk disappear further into the apartment.
It doesn't feel good. This whole thing leaves a bad taste in your mouth. You think back to Taehyung's words, even those he said at the café, those you thought were meant as a joke.
Make sure he knows you're in charge? Those practices are outdated and were disproven years ago, even for raising dogs. And if Jeongguk doesn't behave? He's not allowed back home? What does that mean? Where would he go?
Minutes later, you find him in the living room, standing beside your large, gray couch.
"What are your rules?" he asks stoically. "I'm allowed to sleep on the couch back home, just so you know."
You can't help but furrow your eyebrows in confusion. Why does it sound a little like he's bragging?
"Rules? I don't know, uh, don't... intentionally break anything? And I already prepared the guest room for you. Clean sheets in the bed."
"Bed?" Now it's Jeongguk's turn to draw his eyebrows together, although he appears more skeptical. "I prefer the couch."
The way he says it is so confident that it sways you. But you still don't understand why he'd choose the couch over a bed.
"Uh, okay... Well, you can sleep wherever you want, I guess, but you're more than welcome to use the guest room and sleep in the bed there."
Jeongguk seems insistent, but after a very brief tour of your apartment, mostly you pointing to the kitchen and bathroom and assuring that he can take and use whatever he wants, he eventually does retreat to the guest room.
The closed door has you on your toes in the beginning, scared that he’ll appear at any moment and glare you to death, but he never does. You ask through it what he likes to eat, but you don't get an answer, and when you've gone ahead and cooked your favorite food, he doesn't come out to eat, either.
It doesn't feel very good to go to bed without having seen your guest eat anything, but your alarm will go off earlier than you'd really want the morning after, and you think Jeongguk would value being left alone without food higher than being nagged at.
After shutting the alarm off, you stretch your arms over your head and blink the sleep from your eyes. Slowly, you get up to head towards the bathroom, and just as slowly, yesterday’s events come back to you. On your way there, you have to pass by the living room, and when you do, you see him.
If you thought that the kangaroo hybrid locking himself in the guest room meant that he decided to sleep in there too... then you were absolutely wrong. He's tall, but even if he’d chosen to lie straight and not curled up like he is, he’d fit. One of the decorative pillows is under his head, but he doesn't have anything covering him. Not even though there are two soft blankets folded up and draped over the couch.
Your apartment is on the chillier side, and seeing Jeongguk in only a t-shirt and basketball shorts sends a shiver down your spine. Taehyung did say that hybrids run hotter, so you guess it's fine...
It doesn't take you long to get ready. A quick shower, clean clothes, some make-up, and then you're ready to go. You've never been one to eat breakfast, but when you fill a huge bowl with apples, bananas, and oranges, you grab an apple for yourself. You have a feeling that Jeongguk is the type to never want to owe anyone anything, even when there is no debt, but you're hoping he'll at least take some fruit. If he's going to stay multiple days, then he definitely needs to eat.
You could write a note, telling him that you've left for work. You should write the note. But your brain, still half asleep, tiptoes into the living room.
When he's sleeping, Jeongguk looks much nicer. Not at all the harsh looks and mean clench of his jaw. Black locks fall into his face, and the ears look so incredibly soft that you just want to reach out and touch. But that would be weird and not cool. And even if his face looks softer, his choice of sleep attire reveals that, physically, he’s very much capable of beating you to death. He lies on his side, facing you, but it’s still obvious how broad his shoulders are and how the muscles bulge under his skin. There are a few prominent veins stemming from the inside of his biceps and reaching all over his forearms and the backs of his hands.
The apartment really is cold at the moment, and despite Taehyung's words, you notice goosebumps lining the hybrid's naked arms. You step away to reach for the warmest blanket you own, unfolding it and gently draping it over Jeongguk's body. Luckily, it's big enough to even cover the tip of his tail.
And lastly, before you leave, you make the mistake.
"Jeongguk," you speak softly, putting your hand on his shoulder to gently wake him up. But it doesn't quite go as planned when he wakes and immediately slaps your hand off him.
"Don't touch me!" he growls, in a half-seated position and with his ears pinned back. "Don't ever touch me!"
Your blood freezes as you retract your hand and step back as quickly as you can. "I–I'm sorry," you whisper in a panic, so caught off guard, it's not even funny. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to say that I'm leaving for work."
He looks so angry, and the thought that it was you who made something so miscalculated and wrong makes your eyes tear up. But you don't think he notices because you're quick to turn away, and he lies back down again without a word.
You spend the next few hours at work completely thrown off. Black eyes haunt your mind, the way he jumped back to put more distance between you, and his snarled words... It's all burnt into your memory.
You can definitely say you're not in a hurry to get home. Grocery store, clothing shops, you even stop by a florist on your way. But food is the only thing in your bags as you unlock the door to your apartment.
It’s quiet when you enter, except for the sound of the tv, and when you step further into the apartment, your eyes meet. He's on the couch, staring at you. Well, at least he's not trying to end you with his fists. And so you offer him a small smile before you take the bags to the kitchen to unpack.
The fridge looks just as it did when you last checked it; the only sign of the hybrid eating anything is the fruit bowl that seems to be missing a few pieces. You chew on your lip, trying to decide what to cook for dinner. It's already eight p.m.
"Do you have a favorite dish?" you voice without even entering the living room, only approaching to the point you can see Jeongguk’s face.
He keeps his eyes on the tv where some old movie is playing. "No, I eat anything."
"Yeah, but... nothing you like the most?" You hold your breath, desperately wanting to make the morning's misstep up to him but hopefully without angering him again.
"No."
Well, you're not going to push him any further, so you nod and retreat into the kitchen. You just hope he wasn't lying and that you won’t accidentally cook him something that’ll make him hurl.
You end up making a stew, going through your emails while it cooks. The room fills with the smell of food, and you realize how hungry you are. When it’s done, you carry a large bowl of it along with some toasted garlic bread and a glass of water into the living room on a tray.
You notice Jeongguk discreetly sniffing the air as you put the tray down onto the coffee table. It's not directly in front of him due to what happened earlier, you don't want to make him feel suffocated by being too close. Not in any way. He shows no emotions, just looks at you, and you avert your gaze, feeling... embarrassed?
"Can't return you in bad shape," you smile awkwardly and mumble so quietly you doubt he even hears it before you turn around and leave, going back to eat your portion in the safety of the kitchen.
Spoonful after spoonful, you chew the meat while looking out the kitchen window. Most of all, you see the reflection of your own face.
What is Jeongguk's life like at home? You're aware that there are lots of bad hybrid owners who abuse the ones that need them the most, but except for Taehyung's parting words and that joke, there aren't any indicators that Jeongguk is being mistreated. Right?
He seems healthy. He might not have the hugest of appetites at your place, but he looks far from malnourished. It's not like he's small and defenseless either. However Jeongguk is treated, the fact that he despises you remains. You just don't understand why.
Jeongguk doesn't lock himself away inside the guest room that night, but he doesn't sleep in there either, still preferring the couch for some reason. At least he ate everything you put on that tray.
And when you leave for work the next morning, you don't make the same mistake again. You simply leave without saying anything to the hybrid curled up on the couch.
It isn't quite as late when you return home as it was the day before, and when you step into the hallway, you see Jeongguk bent over his duffel bag, seemingly... packing?
He zips it closed and stands up, eyes meeting yours. No greeting, but you honestly don't expect anything of the kind anymore.
"Are you going somewhere?" you ask, confused but minding your tone as to not sound accusing.
"It's Tuesday. Jimin is waiting." He walks around you where you stand, reaching for his jacket from the hanger. You step away, maybe too fast and too noticeable, but you really don't want to anger him by accidentally brushing against him. If he notices, he doesn't show it.
"Oh," you look away, embarrassed because you’d definitely forgotten. "When will you be back?"
“Don’t know.”
“Oh, okay. Be safe,” you speak, but he’s almost entirely out the door before you’ve finished. It’s not like you even know where he’s going or what he’s doing, and you certainly don’t think he’d appreciate you asking.
With a sigh, you lock the door behind him.
Taehyung said that Jeongguk would be late, but as movie after movie ends, and there’s still no sign of the hybrid, you begin to worry.
He left at around six p.m., and midnight passed an hour ago when you send a somewhat panicked text to Taehyung, asking if Jeongguk shouldn’t have returned by now.
‘Yeah, he should.’
You lick your lips as your anxious heart beats faster. What if something’s happened to him?
Before you’re able to ask what you’re going to do, Taehyung sends another text.
‘The gps in his chip shows he’s at yours, though?’
What?
You watched Jeongguk leave, and if he returned, you would’ve heard it. Still, with phone in hand and Taehyung’s messages open, you look through all the rooms.
No kangaroo hybrid to be seen.
The very last thing you do before you’ll admit defeat is to check the stairwell. There’s absolutely no reason Jeongguk would be there, but when the door glides open… he is. He sits on the stairs leading a floor up, with his bag beside him, jacket folded over his lap, and blood coming from his mouth.
“Oh my god, what happened?”
For a brief second, Jeongguk meets your eyes and looks… surprised? But it soon evolves into that familiar look of irritation as he regains control over the muscles of his face.
“Nothing.”
It’s clearly not nothing, and still very much worried, you open the door all the way and motion for him to enter.
“Let’s get you inside and cleaned up.”
But of course, you should’ve expected him to fight.
“It’s just a busted lip,” he argues quietly but still rises from the stairs and grabs his duffel bag by its handles.
“But you’re bleeding…”
When you peer back at him, you notice that he’s put the sleeve of the jacket he’s not wearing pressed to his mouth as if he hadn’t known the red liquid was still seeping from the wound. Also like he rather stains his jacket than your floor.
The first thing you do is head to the kitchen to retrieve some tissues, offering them up to Jeongguk when you return to the hallway.
“Why don’t you take a quick shower, and I can take a look at your lip after?” you suggest because not only is the hybrid injured, but he looks to have sweated a lot.
Reluctantly, he accepts the tissues, replacing the sleeve of his jacket with them and putting pressure on his lip. The jacket gets hung on a hanger, and then Jeongguk leaves, gathering a change of clothes and a towel from the guest room before he enters the bathroom, huffing angrily the entire time.
With the sound of the shower running as background noise, you sway from foot to foot in the kitchen, biting at your nails. What happened that resulted in such an injury? Why was he so sweaty? And what kind of friend was this ‘Jimin’ if he didn’t bother to clean Jeongguk up? Make sure he got home properly? Well, not home home, but still.
The sound of the bathroom door unlocking and opening is what snaps you out of your thoughts, and you go to meet him right outside. He’s wearing a new set of sleep attire, although the same style as yesterday; a black t-shirt and some gray shorts. His hair is wet but it doesn’t drip, and you fight the urge to just… stare at his ears. They’re partially pinned back like they always are, but when they and his black locks are wet, they’re more prominent and, well, cute.
Jeongguk observes you with suspicion and with paper still pressed to his mouth.
“Let me see?” you ask, trying to sound as non-threatening as possible.
“It’s nothing,” he grumbles the same words from earlier.
“Please?” You’re no expert on wounds but what if he needs professional care? How are you supposed to sleep without knowing?
“No,” he answers strictly and makes an attempt to walk around you. But you step in front of him, blocking his way.
Jeongguk stares down at you, but you can’t let it go. Not if he’s in pain and it could be somewhat serious.
“Weren’t you supposed to behave?” you remind sternly, and you can see the way a flash of surprise washes over his face before he’s pressing his lips together and clenching his jaw. You would never tell Taehyung, or anyone, that Jeongguk was misbehaving, not when you still don’t know what the consequences might be, and certainly not for something so insignificant.
But Jeongguk doesn’t know that.
With a cold glare, he lowers the tissue. But it’s too dark in the hallway, so you ask him to follow you back inside the bathroom where the ceiling lights are bordering on surgical.
Without touching him, you motion to the spot where you want him to stand, in front of the washing machine, and then, you rise to your toes to get a better look, trying to ignore the way his glare makes your intimidated heart beat faster.
You have to stop yourself from grasping his chin and so instead, your hand floats a few inches from his face. It makes it more difficult to see how deep the gash is when you can’t move his face around, but it will have to do. After all, you haven’t forgotten how he reacted to your touch the first time. First and last time.
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” he grumbles.
You lace your voice with that sternness again while looking him straight in the eye. “Are you lying?”
Your courage surprises you because Jeongguk is a lot bigger than you. He towers over you, and he’s fit and muscular, you’ve already established that. He’s also not very happy or fond of you, but glaring at you is the farthest he will go, you’re already a hundred percent certain of that. It doesn’t matter that his lip is wounded and that someone else might also be sporting injuries and bruises. If he wanted to hurt you, he would’ve done so already.
When he doesn’t say anything, only keeps his cold stare on you, you know two things. What the answer to your question is, and how to handle him. If necessary, that is, you don’t particularly enjoy threatening him.
Even though his lip is painful, Jeongguk’s wound doesn’t look too serious. And by that, you mean not serious enough for you to drag him to your car and speed toward the closest hybrid doctor. But you sink down from your toes as your eyebrows draw together.
When you open your mouth this time, your voice is softer. “So… what happened?”
He’s so pretty, he really is. You think back to the vision of him sleeping and how innocent and carefree he seemed. You’ve never seen him be anything besides angry while awake, and you absolutely hate that he feels the need to always be so guarded and hostile. And, of course, you also hate that someone, a few hours ago, split his skin open and made him bleed.
Taking advantage of the way you’ve softened, Jeongguk mutters, “Nothing,” and sidesteps you, disappearing through the door.
But you follow.
He’s about to pull back one of the blankets on the couch when you catch up, and you immediately gather all of that determination again.
“Nuh-uh, you’re not sleeping there.”
He halts his movements, standing there with the corner of the blanket in his hand, and you can see, even from the distance, how his grip tightens and jaw clenches. Then, he drops the blanket, still looking at it where it lies on the couch.
“When should I be back? Or should I not bother?” he mutters.
You don’t give yourself time to absolutely break at his words. “Guest room. Now.”
You turn on your heel, not staying to make sure he’s actually following, but as you open the door to the guest room, there he is, right behind you and obeying.
“This is where you’re sleeping.”
“No.”
“Yes, you are. I’ll lock you in here, I don’t care.”
“I can’t. There will be hair on the sheets. Maybe blood as well.”
“You listen to me. I don’t care. You’re sleeping in here, and if I wake up tomorrow to find you sleeping somewhere else other than in that bed, I will not be happy.”
For a few seconds, Jeongguk seems to believe that if he challenges you to an angry stare-off–and wins–you’ll surrender. However, you don’t give up that easily, and when those seconds have passed, you still gesture determinedly towards the bed.
“Get in. Now.”
Huffing, he passes you, and you watch as he reaches the bed and reluctantly pulls the white covers back like he had tried to do with the blanket, and gets inside. He doesn’t lie down, just sits there, watching you.
You point your finger at him. “Stay there, I’ll be back in a second.”
Without waiting for any kind of answer you don’t think he’d give you anyway, you return to the bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet in search of some painkillers. You pop a pill into your palm and on your way back to the guest room, you stop by the kitchen to get a glass of water as well.
Jeongguk remains in the same exact position you left him in, and he follows your figure with his eyes as you approach him to place the two things on the bedside table.
The second you straighten up, you suddenly remember something. Not used to sounding so harsh, you almost slip back into your usual voice and choice of words but manage to stop yourself at the last second. You clear your throat.
“Did you eat today?”
You’re taller than him when you’re standing and he’s sitting, but his eyes hold the same hostility as when he’d been towering over you previously.
“Yes,” he grits.
“When?” you push.
He stares at you with those eyes of death before he finally gives up. “Eleven,” he grits, staring right into your soul.
“A.m.? P.m.?”
“A.m.”
To be honest, it doesn’t surprise you, even if you feel terrible. But you don’t allow yourself to soften now either, knowing he won’t listen if you do.
“Okay. Here’s the deal, you’re going to sleep in here, in this bed, but not after you’ve eaten. Get it?”
Jeongguk doesn’t give you an answer, not even a nod of his head until you urge further. “Understood?”
And when he does, you march out of that room and into the kitchen where you’re pulling out the rest of what you cooked for dinner, the portion of lasagna he didn’t get to eat when he didn’t come home and that you forgot all about when the worry had started to set in.
It’s only when the microwave beeps that Jeongguk shows up, not exactly ecstatic but what’s new? You place the plate, a set of utensils, and another glass of water on the table, and then you wait until he turns the chair sideways and sits down.
You won’t deny how cute you find it that he prefers to sit like that, with his tail hanging towards the floor behind him. It makes sense that it’s more comfortable for him though, the tail isn’t as flexible as that of something like a cat.
You might be pretending to be mean—you wouldn’t think you’re doing a great job if it weren’t for the way Jeongguk is actually obeying—but even then, you decide to not be so weird as to stand and watch him eat.
Instead, you turn your back to him and busy yourself with the few plates needing to be washed, and you boil some water.
While he eats, Jeongguk doesn’t pay you any attention as you come and go. He just sits there and eats, and you can’t even tell if your cooking is the best he’s ever had or if it tastes like something out of a dumpster.
Before he’s finished, you have: done some dishes, taken out the trash, cleaned the microwave and wiped down the counter, and lastly, filled a hot water bottle and hidden it between the sheets in Jeongguk’s bed.
It’s not like you’ve missed the seemingly always-present goosebumps on his skin or the way he’ll sometimes rub at his arms when he thinks you aren’t looking. One Google search quickly informed you that, yeah, hybrids typically do run warmer, but it depends on the species, and Jeongguk, well, he’s a kangaroo hybrid. Not exactly an animal usually found at the poles. And since your apartment is chillier than average, you retrieved the blue hot water bottle from its forgotten place in your little storage closet.
When you return to the kitchen, Jeongguk has finished eating and is washing the plate and utensils in the sink. You would’ve gladly done it for him, but since he hasn’t spotted you, you back away quietly.
After a minute or so, he exits the kitchen, and you—typing a text to a friend despite the late hour—call out when he passes the guest room.
“Was gonna brush my teeth first…” he informs arrogantly, and you feel your cheeks heat up.
“Alright, do that. And then, straight to bed.”
You choose to wait a few minutes after he’s retreated into the guest room to follow him, knocking on the closed door. “Jeongguk?”
As expected, he doesn’t answer, so you wait a few more seconds—enough for him to cover himself if he happened to be naked—and then you open the door slowly.
He’s watching you from the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard and the white covers over his lap.
“Why were you in the stairwell earlier?” you ask, not bothering to beat around the bush.
Again, to no one’s surprise, he just stares harshly at you until you raise your eyebrows expectantly.
“I can’t disturb you.”
Oh, how your heart hurts. You let go of the door handle, stepping into the room to sit on the edge of the bed, as far away from the hybrid as you can.
“Were you going to stay there? All night?”
The pain in your voice is evident, and in that moment, something happens. Jeongguk doesn’t answer you, but he also turns his head away, tired eyes looking at the floor.
“Do you really think I’d go to bed without knowing where you were? That you were safe? I was waiting for you.”
Your eyes become glassy as you take in the being before you. Someone forced to be dependent on others, and who has learned not to make noise. He was going to sleep in the stairwell because he knew he shouldn’t bother you if you were sleeping already.
“You’re not a bother. Not to me.”
You don’t wait for an answer this time, feeling like the day has been emotional and draining enough, and after leaving the guest room with a whispered ‘good night,’ you spend an hour trying to fall asleep.
He hadn’t stretched his legs out enough to feel the hot water bottle when you sat with him, and you smile sadly as you try to imagine his reaction to the warmth. One thing’s for sure; Jeongguk deserves better.
In contrast to the letters you’re scribbling down, you’re smiling, and it’s with light hands and a quietly hummed melody you’re attaching the yellow sticky note to the pile of plastic wrapped waffles.
‘EAT!!!’
The plate goes into the fridge since you don’t know when Jeongguk will be up, and you’ll soon head to work.
Thirty more minutes roll by, until all that's left to do is to relay some information to Jeongguk. Softly, you knock on his door, opening it slightly when half a minute passes with no reply.
Instantly, you smile to yourself. The hybrid is all cuddled up in the bed; a surprisingly small ball covered in white. And at the top, his peaceful face, black locks and ears, and just a little bit of blue stick out.
The hot water bottle. He looks to be hugging it close to his body, content even though it’s long lost its heat.
“Jeongguk?”
He stirs at your quiet call of his name, but he doesn’t wake. And in the process, his arm peeks out from under the covers. You were going to call for him again, but his name dies on your tongue.
There are bruises lining his arm. You didn’t see them last night, and they’re still only a purplish red, meaning that they’re not very old.
The discovery leaves a bad taste in your mouth, and you close the door, looking for a piece of paper, preferably a bit larger than the sticky notes.
Despite starting off with a bit of sadness, your day at work is better than the previous ones, mostly because of the small break-through you think you witnessed the night before. It felt as if, without even really saying anything, Jeongguk opened up a little bit, and that makes you happy.
The moment you step back inside the apartment, you hear the telltale sound of Mario Kart, and you smile to yourself as you remove your jacket and shoes.
On your way to the living room, you stop by the kitchen to see the plate that held the waffles empty and beside it, the note you left.
‘Jeongguk, a friend of mine called Yoongi will stop by and install something for us today. He’s really nice, so I hope you’ll be nice to him as well!’
You hope that some entertainment might make Jeongguk’s stay a little more pleasant, and from what you see when you enter the living room, you’re happy with your decision.
Very briefly, dark eyes meet yours before they’re back on the screen to pause the game.
“Oh, I don’t mind if you play,” you exclaim, guessing that telling him that you specifically asked Yoongi to install it for him, wouldn’t be the best of ideas, even if Jeongguk surely knows it.
However, Jeongguk keeps it paused, watching you. He doesn’t look friendly, nor does he smile, but he... doesn’t look furious. Not like you just murdered his entire family.
“So, it went alright? When Yoongi stopped by?”
The hybrid gives his typical short nod, and you make a mental note to ask your friend as well. Mostly for your own curiosity.
Still satisfied with the albeit short exchange, you exit the living room to head into the kitchen, pulling out ingredients and tools onto the counter. You’ve been craving your grandmother’s homemade bread for literal weeks but haven’t had the time to bake until now.
A few minutes later, while you’re elbows deep into mixing the dough, two things happen almost simultaneously.
Jeongguk walks into the kitchen and with his polite but still somewhat stoic voice asks, “Can I have some water?”
To which you step aside to give him access to the tap, ensuring, “Of course! Just take whatever you want or need.”
And your phone rings.
It lies on the kitchen table, and with your relatively clean pinky, you answer the call, putting it on speaker.
“Hello?” you greet, sticky hands held in the air.
“Hi, it’s Taehyung!”
You freeze at the friendly voice. To say that your feelings and thoughts of Taehyung have changed during the past few days is an understatement. Or... well, you think. No one’s really explicitly told you anything, it’s mostly just signs, implications, and your own gut feeling.
You hope he’s just calling to check in.
“Oh, hi. How are you? And Jihoon?”
“We’re good! He’s still recovering. You know, a procedure of that kind is tough on the body, not to mention if you’re over fifty. They’re keeping him a bit longer, even if he tries to make them let him go earlier,” Taehyung laughs.
“Yeah,” you agree politely, “He should listen to the doctors and take it easy.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell him. But anyway, I’ve got some good news for you!”
You glance worriedly at the phone. Good news?
“Oh?”
“Yeah! I spoke with a friend earlier, and he offered to take Jeongguk. He had some things to do out of town, but seems like he’ll be able to reschedule and take him after all. And I just spoke with Jimin; he’s close by and can pick Jeongguk up in half an hour if that works for you?”
“Half an hour?” you repeat with your heart falling.
When you turn around, Jeongguk stands behind you, sipping water from a glass and staring out the window. You don’t even see his entire profile, but he, as usual, doesn’t show very much emotion.
“Yeah.”
“And this friend...? Who... What’s his name?”
It’s not like you expect to know the person, but you can’t help it. You feel like you need to know.
“Namjoon,” Taehyung answers, and you see Jeongguk’s shoulders falling slightly, and what little you see of his face loses whatever tiny little glimpse of emotion it had before. “Don’t worry, he and Jeongguk know each other.”
It doesn’t take very long for you to come to a decision. The hybrid might not like you, but... you can at least guarantee he’s being looked after properly. That he has a bed to sleep in, all the food he can eat, and... someone who cares for him. And most importantly, you don’t know this Namjoon, but you guess that Jeongguk would rather stay with you judging by his reaction.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind if he stays.”
Taehyung is silent for a second, and you’ve turned away from Jeongguk, so if he reacts in any way, you don’t see it.
“Really? Are you sure? I mean, I know he can be a handful,” he chuckles.
“I promise, it’s fine. He’s not so bad.”
It’s not even a lie. Or maybe he is just a tad bit difficult sometimes, but you’ve already come to the conclusion that if anything, it’s not Jeongguk’s fault. The image of the kangaroo hybrid, all snuggled up to the hot water bottle in bed, flashes before your eyes. That alone is worth it.
“Oh... Well, okay then. That’s very generous of you, so thank you. I’ll let Jimin and Namjoon know.”
You don’t like Taehyung’s words or how surprised and even grateful he sounds. No wonder Jeongguk thinks he’s a burden, and you don’t even know how they treat him at home.
“Yeah, no problem.”
There are a few more sentences exchanged before you hang up—Jeongguk long gone from the kitchen by then—and you can resume your baking. It hits you then just how little you want Jeongguk to go home. To go anywhere. But you don’t think there’s really anything you can do; hybrids have few rights and are basically nothing more than possessions in the eyes of society.
“Can I play?”
Jeongguk looks at you where you stand beside the couch, and immediately, he pauses the game and holds the controller out to you. All while looking... stoic. There’s still almost always that underlying anger. Like he loathes humans so much, and that yes, he will obey, but only because he has to. A part of you wonders how his ‘caretakers’ succeeded in making someone so stubborn and strong comply; another part doesn’t even want to imagine it.
“Oh, I meant with you? There’s another controller, right?”
Stepping in front of the tv, you crouch to look through the little box Yoongi left with games. And, yeah, there it is. You pull it out, fiddling a little with it in your hands as you move to sit down on the couch. With adequate space between you and the hybrid, of course.
“So, I’ve only played Mario Kart once and that was like... years and years ago. Do you think, maybe you could... teach me?”
Jeongguk looks at you, a softer than usual look of surprise on his face. His eyebrows are a tiny bit raised and his lips just slightly parted.
“I’ve never played before today.”
“Really? It certainly looks like you know what you’re doing,” you chuckle, noticing how his eyes flicker subtly in something other than anger?
“Uh, yeah... Yoongi showed me the controls.”
You make a mental note to send flowers and some kind of gift basket to Yoongi’s home. In a way, it doesn’t surprise you that the calm and almost somber-looking man was able to interact with the very suspicious hybrid. Yoongi doesn’t ponder too much; he’s more straight—but calmly so—to the point.
“Will you show them to me, then?”
He nods, and with the controller in his hands, shows you what the buttons do and when to press them. When you feel like you’ve refreshed your memory enough to give it a shot, Jeongguk restarts the game. Of course, the hybrid’s superior reflexes and the few hours he already spent playing lead to his victory. The first time, you can see that he isn’t sure how to act, almost as if he knows not to seem satisfied with winning, but when all you do is complain about your own performance in a lighthearted way and compliment his, he smiles.
The thirty minutes you spent gaming influence the rest of the night, and you smile to yourself as you refill the hot water bottle for Jeongguk right before bed time. He doesn’t acknowledge the gesture, but he doesn’t argue it either, and that’s a win in your book, at least.
However, the next day—thursday—he’s back to being a grump, and at first, you have no idea why. Then it hits you. Thursdays mean ‘activity,’ which probably in turn means fighting. As a result, he’s holed up in the guest room for most of the day, eating only an apple and a banana after you open the door and physically place them and a big water bottle inside.
A few minutes before Jimin is supposed to pick Jeongguk up, you approach the tall hybrid in the hallway.
“So, what is it that you do? Are you… fighting?” you ask, trying to keep your worry and distaste out of your words.
He doesn’t answer, but you can feel his irritation grow and see his ears swivel back, which you by now can tell means that he’s not happy. Maybe you weren’t very successful.
“Are they making you fight?”
Again, he remains quiet, zipping the bag shut.
“Can’t you just answer me for once?” you question, sounding more frustrated than you intended to.
“No.”
You lick your lips, silently cursing at yourself. Things were going so well. If you hadn’t asked—almost accused him—maybe his anger would’ve dwindled naturally.
“Do I come back?” he asks instead, staring at the wall, and you feel the heat radiating as his blood boils. He’s wondering if you’re kicking him out to the street for not answering your question.
“Come back? Of course,” you assure him, your own frustration exchanged for heartache and your voice taking on a softer tone once more. “I have an extra key you can have if that makes you more comfortable?”
“No,” he declines.
“Okay, but promise me you’ll knock, no matter the time?”
You think he’s about to nod, or at least give you some sort of answer, but you’re interrupted by the doorbell.
You linger just inside the closed front door after they’ve left, wondering what you should do to pass the time. Whether you want to or not, you worry a whole lot about Jeongguk, hoping desperately he won’t come back injured.
While you wait, you decide to take the opportunity to cook for him. You’ve tried googling what kangaroo hybrids typically like to eat, but it hasn’t given you a very clear answer, so you settle on a pasta dish. You make sure to use extra cream and to also make him a dessert of banana slices with peanut butter. If he doesn’t want to eat like he should, you can at least try to pack as many calories into what he does eat.
Then, you retrieve the first aid kit, just in case, and the last thing you do before sinking down on the couch to wait in front of the TV is to fluff his pillows and place the filled hot water bottle between the sheets. Hopefully his bed will be warm and ready whenever he returns.
Despite finding a very interesting documentary to watch, you can’t stop yourself, checking your watch as well as the stairwell outside your apartment now and again.
Whether he’d actually knock or try to stay outside again, you won’t actually know because at two-thirty a.m., you hear the slightest of noise from outside and go to open the door, seeing Jeongguk approach.
If you hoped whatever he’s doing with Jimin would’ve made him more at ease, well, it didn’t. He doesn’t greet you, stepping inside and placing his duffel bag on the floor. You try to get a good look at him to see if he is injured, but he appears to move smoothly and without pain, and there’s nothing on his face that seems hurt either.
Unfortunately, Jeongguk doesn’t appreciate the things you did for him while you waited. He scoffs at the bowl of pasta you bring him when he comes out of the shower, and you won’t deny that it breaks your heart a little bit. Even more so when he peers into the guest room, seeing the fluffed pillows.
“I’m not a human nor a baby.”
Unsure of what to do, you give sternness another try. “Eat, Jeongguk.”
But he turns fully toward you, looking down at you like he doesn’t care if you live or die. Although his black eyes and hostile body language honestly do scare you a bit, you try not to show it.
“No,” he grits. “Kick me out, I don’t care.”
His words catch you off guard, and you open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out.
“Can I go to sleep now or do I leave?” he asks stoically when you don’t say anything.
You manage to mutter something about how he can go to sleep, and after he closes the bedroom door behind him, you stand there for a few seconds, stunned.
When you return from work the next day, Jeongguk is still in the guest room with the door shut like he was when you left. With a sigh, you contemplate your best course of action, until you decide on an approach. Perhaps you should’ve really considered what he wants.
“Jeongguk?” you knock on his door, “...I understand that you don’t really want to be here. If you want me to, I can call Taehyung and ask if Namjoon is still free to take you?”
You wait a few seconds, not surprised when there is no answer. Letting a few more seconds pass, you then open the door carefully.
“Jeongguk?”
As the gap in the door widens, you spot him, sitting on the bed with his back toward you.
“No.”
His voice sounds like it often does; informative and not very emotional. But you’ve come to know him and his language well enough to know that there’s a lot of feelings inside; he’s just not allowed to express them.
“‘No’ as in…?”
“I don’t want to go.”
You’re relieved. Both because he answered you and because of what that answer was.
“Okay,” you reply softly, “That’s alright. I baked more bread, do you think you could eat something?”
To your relief, he turns his head a little toward you and nods slightly, and a few minutes later, he comes out of his room to eat some home-baked bread.
That same night, you wake up at three a.m., feeling the telltale signs of something approaching; a very familiar sensation that happens once a month, and you pray to the gods to let you off easy this time. It’s hard enough when you’re alone and not caring for a mostly raging hybrid.
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author's note: i hope you liked it!! <3<3
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you didn't know your estranged uncle had a son. Not until said son dumps an unusually large, very angry, kangaroo hybrid on your doorstep, claiming it's only for a few days while your uncle is in hospital.
pairing: kangaroo hybrid!jk x f!reader
genre: hybrid au, angst, mild fluff
word count: 9.2k (the entire fic is 23.3k)
warnings: none besides the inherent ethics of hybrid-keeping and roo!jk's furious stares
author’s note: to be clear, i first started this fic in 2020/2021 (and i will claim to have been first on the kangakoo agenda with my whole chest 😤 even before bts themselves likened jk to a roo) and finished it over the years, so this is all on lo from the past, current lo is innocent
From what you can remember, there was always a sort of sanity that orbited around your mother. It stemmed from her, and it seeped into everyone around her. Her sister, her brother, her child—you.
She had that thing that made you want to respect her. You don't think you ever heard her raise her voice at anyone, never saw her lose it, and that quiet, comforting understanding is what made her such a great parent. Even your father felt the strings of reason pull on his mind.
But it wasn't always like that. Not for him.
Your father doesn't speak to his brother anymore, hasn't for a long time since he tied the knot with your mother, and honestly, it's for the best. At least according to the vague things you've heard through the years. If your mother was logic, then your father came from the opposite, raised by the chaotic hand of insanity.
Having another cousin—this time on your father's side—hadn't crossed your mind until the little notification bell pinged on Facebook, but nonetheless, there he was, same last name and everything.
Through a few surprisingly polite messages, it became clear that he needed your help. And since there was always that chance of him being nothing like his father, you accepted. After all, insanity can clearly skip a generation.
"It's so great to finally meet you. I'm Taehyung," the blonde-haired man exclaims when you meet him outside the predetermined café. He wears an infectious smile as he enters the building and shows you to a table. Right away, you're caught by surprise because, although his Facebook pictures showed a handsome man, he wasn't this good looking. How is he related to your uncle?
You take off your winter jacket, hands finally thawing as you place the coat over the back of your chair. The small café is not an unfamiliar place; Taehyung offered to come to you since you ‘so graciously’ agreed to help. The place is just a few minutes away from your apartment complex.
"You too," you mumble, watching him start to back away with his wallet raised in his hand. At his question concerning your order, you simply recite your usual: coffee and a blueberry muffin.
"I didn't even know you existed," you admit sheepishly when Taehyung returns to place the little tray down on the table.
"Well, it's not that weird, considering my mom only married your uncle a few years ago. I've heard that he doesn't have the best relationships with the rest of the extended family so..."
You nod, taking a bite out of the fluffy muffin. Makes sense. And if your father knows about the marriage, then he never told you. You didn't exactly consult him before you agreed to help Taehyung either, so it's not like it was brought up.
"And now he's sick?"
"Yeah. Well, he actually had a heart transplant two days ago, but they'll keep him at the hospital for a while since it’s a, you know, heart transplant. So that's why this was all on such short notice; you can't pass up a heart just because no one can watch the hybrid, you know?"
"Yeah, no, of course," you're quick to reassure. "I was just surprised, and well, I don't really have any experience with hybrids. I mean, caring for them."
"Yeah, once again, I'm sorry for the short notice. I would've taken him myself if I could, but I can't, and I knew you lived close by," Taehyung explains, large hands wrapped around the coffee as he sips on it. "But it'll only be for a few days until I can find someone else."
You nod hesitantly, wishing you won't have to take care of the hybrid for long because, truth is, it makes you a bit uncomfortable.
"So, you said before that it's a male? What kind of hybrid is he?"
"Oh, yeah. It's a kangaroo hybrid, and his name is Jeongguk. Rescued as a puppy, or whatever they're called, and had a few families before he ended up with us. Can be a bit of a brat if you spoil him, so make sure he knows you're in charge," a confident smile graces his joking lips.
Despite what you first believed, Taehyung isn't actually related to you or your uncle, and that in itself makes it easier to trust him. The other contributing factor is that smile, the somewhat innocent confidence with which he carries himself.
"And I'd keep him inside if I were you, just to be on the safe side, but if you have to go somewhere with him, then remember that he has to wear his collar and never be more than a few feet from you."
If he can see the look on your face, Taehyung doesn't acknowledge it. You know that hybrids can't be left unsupervised by their owners when out in public, but you’d forgotten about the collar.
"So, are you ready to meet him?" Taehyung raises his eyebrows over the drink he's just about to finish up. With his free hand, he’s collecting his wallet and phone to put in his pocket, and then, he’s rising from the chair.
"What? Now?" you ask, still chewing the last bits of the muffin. When Taehyung had been the only one to show, you assumed the hybrid would arrive later. Like, in a day or something.
"Yeah, he's in the car. Unfortunately, he can’t stay with me any longer, so I really have to drop him off today."
You wonder why he didn't bring the hybrid inside the café since they are welcome and it's cold, literally snowing, outside. But you don't say anything, just grab your things—half full paper mug included—and follow the tall man outside.
Hybrids are normally slightly smaller than the average human, mainly derived from house pets such as cats and dogs, although there are definitely other kinds. But the hybrid that steps out of Taehyung's sleek, black car is anything but small.
He's wearing a winter jacket similar to his owner's, only a bit thinner because 'hybrids run warm,' according to Taehyung. It makes it hard to describe his body shape, but it appears they are roughly the same height and size, at least.
He's got the black jacket zipped up to right beneath his chin, and after grabbing a duffel bag from the car, he remains standing there, dark and cold eyes staring you down. You gulp at his intensity.
"H–hello," you stutter nervously, obviously surprised and intimidated but not stunned enough to be rude. However, if you thought it would warm him up, perhaps even grant you a greeting in return, you’re mistaken; the hybrid just glares at you. Until Taehyung intervenes.
"Gguk, be nice," he voices sternly, making Jeongguk soften his glare a tad and bow his head reluctantly in your direction.
While Taehyung introduces the two of you, one thing keeps occupying your mind. Or, well, two things. Jeongguk's ears.
If Taehyung hadn't already told you beforehand what kind of hybrid the dark-haired male was, then the ears would've made you think donkey. And you mean that in the best way. They're big, longer than those of a regular horse but rounder than a rabbit's. And they're dark, almost black. Jeongguk keeps them turned back, a little lowered. He's not scared; they don't convey submission, more... suspicion. He doesn't trust you.
This isn't your first time seeing a hybrid or anything; you've met some of them before, although very briefly. You still consider yourself pretty knowledgeable; you're one of those people who know a little bit about everything, and hybrids aren't an exception. The thing is just that you've never had to put that hybrid knowledge to the test. Besides, the ones you met previously were all mellow, well-behaved, and with their owners. You'd expected a golden retriever puppy but were met with a wolf.
“It’s a birth defect,” Taehyung explains casually after catching your gaze. “They’re not supposed to be black.”
It throws you off, how he speaks of the hybrid, but since neither of them seem to share your opinion, you don’t question it.
Taehyung keeps chatting all the way up to your apartment, his voice becoming elevator music as you glance at the pair through the mirror in front of you.
It's not only the fact that Jeongguk already seems to despise you that makes you lower your gaze quicker than ever when it's met by his sharp, dark eyes.
Taehyung is gorgeous. Dark blonde hair covers most of his forehead except for a little sliver, and he's blessed with dark eyes, framed by long lashes, and that infectious smile. But Jeongguk is more than that; he has something else that catches your eye more so than Taehyung, and it's not his animal features.
When the elevator reaches the fifth floor with a 'ding,' you step out and take the lead. The sound of your keys jingling echoes through the hallway and intensifies when you reach up to unlock the door to your apartment.
"Here it is," you say, back turned against the others as you open the door wide and step inside.
"Cozy," you hear Taehyung compliment even before he's seen more than the first part of your hallway.
"Thank you."
You show Jeongguk where to hang his jacket and put his shoes while Taehyung remains dressed for the outdoors.
"He's not very complicated. Eats anything, sleeps anywhere. He has his clothes and other necessary stuff with him."
As Taehyung speaks, your eyes drift to the male in between you. He's facing you, still in the hallway, and he's wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. It's like he doesn't even hear that he's being talked about, his eyes staring into the air, and his face blank.
You don't think Taehyung is lying. Well, not intentionally. But you hesitate because Jeongguk still hasn't said a single word to you, and it's obvious he does not want to be there.
Taehyung reaches for the door handle.
"Wait!"
He stops to look at you.
"Are you sure?" you ask. It's Taehyung who you're speaking to, but your eyes are still carefully watching Jeongguk. "He doesn't... are you sure this is okay?"
"Look, I really need your help," Taehyung pleads, suddenly way more serious. "It'll be fine, and I'll try to find someone else as soon as possible, so hopefully it's only for a few days."
"Yeah, but he..."
What are you going to say? You won't lie and say the hybrid's hostility doesn't make you uncomfortable, because it does, but you're mostly asking for his sake. He doesn't want to be left with you.
Taehyung's eyes follow yours, but while you watch Jeongguk with worry, Taehyung's gaze burns holes in his head from behind.
"Don't worry, he'll behave. He knows he's not coming home otherwise."
There's a second of silence before Jeongguk gives one determined nod to show that he got it. You're left speechless, and Taehyung reaches for the door handle once again. But before he actually opens the door, he turns back one last time.
"Oh, I almost forgot. He has activities on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. I'll send a friend to pick him up and drive him, but just so you know, he'll be back late." With that, and a small wave your way, Taehyung leaves. And you're all alone with a strange hybrid.
"Well, uh, feel free to look around," you gesture around you before bending down to take off your shoes that you'd forgotten.
Jeongguk does that same kind of nod again, and then he walks past you, giving a clear view of something you didn't see before. His dark tail. Your fingers let go of the laces as you stare up at it in awe. It's huge, could easily sweep the floor after him if he didn't keep it up. Unlike the tails of other animals like, say lions, it's thick and looks a lot stiffer. But it’s still not as thick as the ones you’ve seen on real kangaroos.
Suddenly, Jeongguk stops. He's caught you staring. And now, he's glaring at you. Cheeks tinged pink, you return your attention to your boots, and you can hear Jeongguk disappear further into the apartment.
It doesn't feel good. This whole thing leaves a bad taste in your mouth. You think back to Taehyung's words, even those he said at the café, those you thought were meant as a joke.
Make sure he knows you're in charge? Those practices are outdated and were disproven years ago, even for raising dogs. And if Jeongguk doesn't behave? He's not allowed back home? What does that mean? Where would he go?
Minutes later, you find him in the living room, standing beside your large, gray couch.
"What are your rules?" he asks stoically. "I'm allowed to sleep on the couch back home, just so you know."
You can't help but furrow your eyebrows in confusion. Why does it sound a little like he's bragging?
"Rules? I don't know, uh, don't... intentionally break anything? And I already prepared the guest room for you. Clean sheets in the bed."
"Bed?" Now it's Jeongguk's turn to draw his eyebrows together, although he appears more skeptical. "I prefer the couch."
The way he says it is so confident that it sways you. But you still don't understand why he'd choose the couch over a bed.
"Uh, okay... Well, you can sleep wherever you want, I guess, but you're more than welcome to use the guest room and sleep in the bed there."
Jeongguk seems insistent, but after a very brief tour of your apartment, mostly you pointing to the kitchen and bathroom and assuring that he can take and use whatever he wants, he eventually does retreat to the guest room.
The closed door has you on your toes in the beginning, scared that he’ll appear at any moment and glare you to death, but he never does. You ask through it what he likes to eat, but you don't get an answer, and when you've gone ahead and cooked your favorite food, he doesn't come out to eat, either.
It doesn't feel very good to go to bed without having seen your guest eat anything, but your alarm will go off earlier than you'd really want the morning after, and you think Jeongguk would value being left alone without food higher than being nagged at.
After shutting the alarm off, you stretch your arms over your head and blink the sleep from your eyes. Slowly, you get up to head towards the bathroom, and just as slowly, yesterday’s events come back to you. On your way there, you have to pass by the living room, and when you do, you see him.
If you thought that the kangaroo hybrid locking himself in the guest room meant that he decided to sleep in there too... then you were absolutely wrong. He's tall, but even if he’d chosen to lie straight and not curled up like he is, he’d fit. One of the decorative pillows is under his head, but he doesn't have anything covering him. Not even though there are two soft blankets folded up and draped over the couch.
Your apartment is on the chillier side, and seeing Jeongguk in only a t-shirt and basketball shorts sends a shiver down your spine. Taehyung did say that hybrids run hotter, so you guess it's fine...
It doesn't take you long to get ready. A quick shower, clean clothes, some make-up, and then you're ready to go. You've never been one to eat breakfast, but when you fill a huge bowl with apples, bananas, and oranges, you grab an apple for yourself. You have a feeling that Jeongguk is the type to never want to owe anyone anything, even when there is no debt, but you're hoping he'll at least take some fruit. If he's going to stay multiple days, then he definitely needs to eat.
You could write a note, telling him that you've left for work. You should write the note. But your brain, still half asleep, tiptoes into the living room.
When he's sleeping, Jeongguk looks much nicer. Not at all the harsh looks and mean clench of his jaw. Black locks fall into his face, and the ears look so incredibly soft that you just want to reach out and touch. But that would be weird and not cool. And even if his face looks softer, his choice of sleep attire reveals that, physically, he’s very much capable of beating you to death. He lies on his side, facing you, but it’s still obvious how broad his shoulders are and how the muscles bulge under his skin. There are a few prominent veins stemming from the inside of his biceps and reaching all over his forearms and the backs of his hands.
The apartment really is cold at the moment, and despite Taehyung's words, you notice goosebumps lining the hybrid's naked arms. You step away to reach for the warmest blanket you own, unfolding it and gently draping it over Jeongguk's body. Luckily, it's big enough to even cover the tip of his tail.
And lastly, before you leave, you make the mistake.
"Jeongguk," you speak softly, putting your hand on his shoulder to gently wake him up. But it doesn't quite go as planned when he wakes and immediately slaps your hand off him.
"Don't touch me!" he growls, in a half-seated position and with his ears pinned back. "Don't ever touch me!"
Your blood freezes as you retract your hand and step back as quickly as you can. "I–I'm sorry," you whisper in a panic, so caught off guard, it's not even funny. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to say that I'm leaving for work."
He looks so angry, and the thought that it was you who made something so miscalculated and wrong makes your eyes tear up. But you don't think he notices because you're quick to turn away, and he lies back down again without a word.
You spend the next few hours at work completely thrown off. Black eyes haunt your mind, the way he jumped back to put more distance between you, and his snarled words... It's all burnt into your memory.
You can definitely say you're not in a hurry to get home. Grocery store, clothing shops, you even stop by a florist on your way. But food is the only thing in your bags as you unlock the door to your apartment.
It’s quiet when you enter, except for the sound of the tv, and when you step further into the apartment, your eyes meet. He's on the couch, staring at you. Well, at least he's not trying to end you with his fists. And so you offer him a small smile before you take the bags to the kitchen to unpack.
The fridge looks just as it did when you last checked it; the only sign of the hybrid eating anything is the fruit bowl that seems to be missing a few pieces. You chew on your lip, trying to decide what to cook for dinner. It's already eight p.m.
"Do you have a favorite dish?" you voice without even entering the living room, only approaching to the point you can see Jeongguk’s face.
He keeps his eyes on the tv where some old movie is playing. "No, I eat anything."
"Yeah, but... nothing you like the most?" You hold your breath, desperately wanting to make the morning's misstep up to him but hopefully without angering him again.
"No."
Well, you're not going to push him any further, so you nod and retreat into the kitchen. You just hope he wasn't lying and that you won’t accidentally cook him something that’ll make him hurl.
You end up making a stew, going through your emails while it cooks. The room fills with the smell of food, and you realize how hungry you are. When it’s done, you carry a large bowl of it along with some toasted garlic bread and a glass of water into the living room on a tray.
You notice Jeongguk discreetly sniffing the air as you put the tray down onto the coffee table. It's not directly in front of him due to what happened earlier, you don't want to make him feel suffocated by being too close. Not in any way. He shows no emotions, just looks at you, and you avert your gaze, feeling... embarrassed?
"Can't return you in bad shape," you smile awkwardly and mumble so quietly you doubt he even hears it before you turn around and leave, going back to eat your portion in the safety of the kitchen.
Spoonful after spoonful, you chew the meat while looking out the kitchen window. Most of all, you see the reflection of your own face.
What is Jeongguk's life like at home? You're aware that there are lots of bad hybrid owners who abuse the ones that need them the most, but except for Taehyung's parting words and that joke, there aren't any indicators that Jeongguk is being mistreated. Right?
He seems healthy. He might not have the hugest of appetites at your place, but he looks far from malnourished. It's not like he's small and defenseless either. However Jeongguk is treated, the fact that he despises you remains. You just don't understand why.
Jeongguk doesn't lock himself away inside the guest room that night, but he doesn't sleep in there either, still preferring the couch for some reason. At least he ate everything you put on that tray.
And when you leave for work the next morning, you don't make the same mistake again. You simply leave without saying anything to the hybrid curled up on the couch.
It isn't quite as late when you return home as it was the day before, and when you step into the hallway, you see Jeongguk bent over his duffel bag, seemingly... packing?
He zips it closed and stands up, eyes meeting yours. No greeting, but you honestly don't expect anything of the kind anymore.
"Are you going somewhere?" you ask, confused but minding your tone as to not sound accusing.
"It's Tuesday. Jimin is waiting." He walks around you where you stand, reaching for his jacket from the hanger. You step away, maybe too fast and too noticeable, but you really don't want to anger him by accidentally brushing against him. If he notices, he doesn't show it.
"Oh," you look away, embarrassed because you’d definitely forgotten. "When will you be back?"
“Don’t know.”
“Oh, okay. Be safe,” you speak, but he’s almost entirely out the door before you’ve finished. It’s not like you even know where he’s going or what he’s doing, and you certainly don’t think he’d appreciate you asking.
With a sigh, you lock the door behind him.
Taehyung said that Jeongguk would be late, but as movie after movie ends, and there’s still no sign of the hybrid, you begin to worry.
He left at around six p.m., and midnight passed an hour ago when you send a somewhat panicked text to Taehyung, asking if Jeongguk shouldn’t have returned by now.
‘Yeah, he should.’
You lick your lips as your anxious heart beats faster. What if something’s happened to him?
Before you’re able to ask what you’re going to do, Taehyung sends another text.
‘The gps in his chip shows he’s at yours, though?’
What?
You watched Jeongguk leave, and if he returned, you would’ve heard it. Still, with phone in hand and Taehyung’s messages open, you look through all the rooms.
No kangaroo hybrid to be seen.
The very last thing you do before you’ll admit defeat is to check the stairwell. There’s absolutely no reason Jeongguk would be there, but when the door glides open… he is. He sits on the stairs leading a floor up, with his bag beside him, jacket folded over his lap, and blood coming from his mouth.
“Oh my god, what happened?”
For a brief second, Jeongguk meets your eyes and looks… surprised? But it soon evolves into that familiar look of irritation as he regains control over the muscles of his face.
“Nothing.”
It’s clearly not nothing, and still very much worried, you open the door all the way and motion for him to enter.
“Let’s get you inside and cleaned up.”
But of course, you should’ve expected him to fight.
“It’s just a busted lip,” he argues quietly but still rises from the stairs and grabs his duffel bag by its handles.
“But you’re bleeding…”
When you peer back at him, you notice that he’s put the sleeve of the jacket he’s not wearing pressed to his mouth as if he hadn’t known the red liquid was still seeping from the wound. Also like he rather stains his jacket than your floor.
The first thing you do is head to the kitchen to retrieve some tissues, offering them up to Jeongguk when you return to the hallway.
“Why don’t you take a quick shower, and I can take a look at your lip after?” you suggest because not only is the hybrid injured, but he looks to have sweated a lot.
Reluctantly, he accepts the tissues, replacing the sleeve of his jacket with them and putting pressure on his lip. The jacket gets hung on a hanger, and then Jeongguk leaves, gathering a change of clothes and a towel from the guest room before he enters the bathroom, huffing angrily the entire time.
With the sound of the shower running as background noise, you sway from foot to foot in the kitchen, biting at your nails. What happened that resulted in such an injury? Why was he so sweaty? And what kind of friend was this ‘Jimin’ if he didn’t bother to clean Jeongguk up? Make sure he got home properly? Well, not home home, but still.
The sound of the bathroom door unlocking and opening is what snaps you out of your thoughts, and you go to meet him right outside. He’s wearing a new set of sleep attire, although the same style as yesterday; a black t-shirt and some gray shorts. His hair is wet but it doesn’t drip, and you fight the urge to just… stare at his ears. They’re partially pinned back like they always are, but when they and his black locks are wet, they’re more prominent and, well, cute.
Jeongguk observes you with suspicion and with paper still pressed to his mouth.
“Let me see?” you ask, trying to sound as non-threatening as possible.
“It’s nothing,” he grumbles the same words from earlier.
“Please?” You’re no expert on wounds but what if he needs professional care? How are you supposed to sleep without knowing?
“No,” he answers strictly and makes an attempt to walk around you. But you step in front of him, blocking his way.
Jeongguk stares down at you, but you can’t let it go. Not if he’s in pain and it could be somewhat serious.
“Weren’t you supposed to behave?” you remind sternly, and you can see the way a flash of surprise washes over his face before he’s pressing his lips together and clenching his jaw. You would never tell Taehyung, or anyone, that Jeongguk was misbehaving, not when you still don’t know what the consequences might be, and certainly not for something so insignificant.
But Jeongguk doesn’t know that.
With a cold glare, he lowers the tissue. But it’s too dark in the hallway, so you ask him to follow you back inside the bathroom where the ceiling lights are bordering on surgical.
Without touching him, you motion to the spot where you want him to stand, in front of the washing machine, and then, you rise to your toes to get a better look, trying to ignore the way his glare makes your intimidated heart beat faster.
You have to stop yourself from grasping his chin and so instead, your hand floats a few inches from his face. It makes it more difficult to see how deep the gash is when you can’t move his face around, but it will have to do. After all, you haven’t forgotten how he reacted to your touch the first time. First and last time.
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” he grumbles.
You lace your voice with that sternness again while looking him straight in the eye. “Are you lying?”
Your courage surprises you because Jeongguk is a lot bigger than you. He towers over you, and he’s fit and muscular, you’ve already established that. He’s also not very happy or fond of you, but glaring at you is the farthest he will go, you’re already a hundred percent certain of that. It doesn’t matter that his lip is wounded and that someone else might also be sporting injuries and bruises. If he wanted to hurt you, he would’ve done so already.
When he doesn’t say anything, only keeps his cold stare on you, you know two things. What the answer to your question is, and how to handle him. If necessary, that is, you don’t particularly enjoy threatening him.
Even though his lip is painful, Jeongguk’s wound doesn’t look too serious. And by that, you mean not serious enough for you to drag him to your car and speed toward the closest hybrid doctor. But you sink down from your toes as your eyebrows draw together.
When you open your mouth this time, your voice is softer. “So… what happened?”
He’s so pretty, he really is. You think back to the vision of him sleeping and how innocent and carefree he seemed. You’ve never seen him be anything besides angry while awake, and you absolutely hate that he feels the need to always be so guarded and hostile. And, of course, you also hate that someone, a few hours ago, split his skin open and made him bleed.
Taking advantage of the way you’ve softened, Jeongguk mutters, “Nothing,” and sidesteps you, disappearing through the door.
But you follow.
He’s about to pull back one of the blankets on the couch when you catch up, and you immediately gather all of that determination again.
“Nuh-uh, you’re not sleeping there.”
He halts his movements, standing there with the corner of the blanket in his hand, and you can see, even from the distance, how his grip tightens and jaw clenches. Then, he drops the blanket, still looking at it where it lies on the couch.
“When should I be back? Or should I not bother?” he mutters.
You don’t give yourself time to absolutely break at his words. “Guest room. Now.”
You turn on your heel, not staying to make sure he’s actually following, but as you open the door to the guest room, there he is, right behind you and obeying.
“This is where you’re sleeping.”
“No.”
“Yes, you are. I’ll lock you in here, I don’t care.”
“I can’t. There will be hair on the sheets. Maybe blood as well.”
“You listen to me. I don’t care. You’re sleeping in here, and if I wake up tomorrow to find you sleeping somewhere else other than in that bed, I will not be happy.”
For a few seconds, Jeongguk seems to believe that if he challenges you to an angry stare-off–and wins–you’ll surrender. However, you don’t give up that easily, and when those seconds have passed, you still gesture determinedly towards the bed.
“Get in. Now.”
Huffing, he passes you, and you watch as he reaches the bed and reluctantly pulls the white covers back like he had tried to do with the blanket, and gets inside. He doesn’t lie down, just sits there, watching you.
You point your finger at him. “Stay there, I’ll be back in a second.”
Without waiting for any kind of answer you don’t think he’d give you anyway, you return to the bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet in search of some painkillers. You pop a pill into your palm and on your way back to the guest room, you stop by the kitchen to get a glass of water as well.
Jeongguk remains in the same exact position you left him in, and he follows your figure with his eyes as you approach him to place the two things on the bedside table.
The second you straighten up, you suddenly remember something. Not used to sounding so harsh, you almost slip back into your usual voice and choice of words but manage to stop yourself at the last second. You clear your throat.
“Did you eat today?”
You’re taller than him when you’re standing and he’s sitting, but his eyes hold the same hostility as when he’d been towering over you previously.
“Yes,” he grits.
“When?” you push.
He stares at you with those eyes of death before he finally gives up. “Eleven,” he grits, staring right into your soul.
“A.m.? P.m.?”
“A.m.”
To be honest, it doesn’t surprise you, even if you feel terrible. But you don’t allow yourself to soften now either, knowing he won’t listen if you do.
“Okay. Here’s the deal, you’re going to sleep in here, in this bed, but not after you’ve eaten. Get it?”
Jeongguk doesn’t give you an answer, not even a nod of his head until you urge further. “Understood?”
And when he does, you march out of that room and into the kitchen where you’re pulling out the rest of what you cooked for dinner, the portion of lasagna he didn’t get to eat when he didn’t come home and that you forgot all about when the worry had started to set in.
It’s only when the microwave beeps that Jeongguk shows up, not exactly ecstatic but what’s new? You place the plate, a set of utensils, and another glass of water on the table, and then you wait until he turns the chair sideways and sits down.
You won’t deny how cute you find it that he prefers to sit like that, with his tail hanging towards the floor behind him. It makes sense that it’s more comfortable for him though, the tail isn’t as flexible as that of something like a cat.
You might be pretending to be mean—you wouldn’t think you’re doing a great job if it weren’t for the way Jeongguk is actually obeying—but even then, you decide to not be so weird as to stand and watch him eat.
Instead, you turn your back to him and busy yourself with the few plates needing to be washed, and you boil some water.
While he eats, Jeongguk doesn’t pay you any attention as you come and go. He just sits there and eats, and you can’t even tell if your cooking is the best he’s ever had or if it tastes like something out of a dumpster.
Before he’s finished, you have: done some dishes, taken out the trash, cleaned the microwave and wiped down the counter, and lastly, filled a hot water bottle and hidden it between the sheets in Jeongguk’s bed.
It’s not like you’ve missed the seemingly always-present goosebumps on his skin or the way he’ll sometimes rub at his arms when he thinks you aren’t looking. One Google search quickly informed you that, yeah, hybrids typically do run warmer, but it depends on the species, and Jeongguk, well, he’s a kangaroo hybrid. Not exactly an animal usually found at the poles. And since your apartment is chillier than average, you retrieved the blue hot water bottle from its forgotten place in your little storage closet.
When you return to the kitchen, Jeongguk has finished eating and is washing the plate and utensils in the sink. You would’ve gladly done it for him, but since he hasn’t spotted you, you back away quietly.
After a minute or so, he exits the kitchen, and you—typing a text to a friend despite the late hour—call out when he passes the guest room.
“Was gonna brush my teeth first…” he informs arrogantly, and you feel your cheeks heat up.
“Alright, do that. And then, straight to bed.”
You choose to wait a few minutes after he’s retreated into the guest room to follow him, knocking on the closed door. “Jeongguk?”
As expected, he doesn’t answer, so you wait a few more seconds—enough for him to cover himself if he happened to be naked—and then you open the door slowly.
He’s watching you from the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard and the white covers over his lap.
“Why were you in the stairwell earlier?” you ask, not bothering to beat around the bush.
Again, to no one’s surprise, he just stares harshly at you until you raise your eyebrows expectantly.
“I can’t disturb you.”
Oh, how your heart hurts. You let go of the door handle, stepping into the room to sit on the edge of the bed, as far away from the hybrid as you can.
“Were you going to stay there? All night?”
The pain in your voice is evident, and in that moment, something happens. Jeongguk doesn’t answer you, but he also turns his head away, tired eyes looking at the floor.
“Do you really think I’d go to bed without knowing where you were? That you were safe? I was waiting for you.”
Your eyes become glassy as you take in the being before you. Someone forced to be dependent on others, and who has learned not to make noise. He was going to sleep in the stairwell because he knew he shouldn’t bother you if you were sleeping already.
“You’re not a bother. Not to me.”
You don’t wait for an answer this time, feeling like the day has been emotional and draining enough, and after leaving the guest room with a whispered ‘good night,’ you spend an hour trying to fall asleep.
He hadn’t stretched his legs out enough to feel the hot water bottle when you sat with him, and you smile sadly as you try to imagine his reaction to the warmth. One thing’s for sure; Jeongguk deserves better.
In contrast to the letters you’re scribbling down, you’re smiling, and it’s with light hands and a quietly hummed melody you’re attaching the yellow sticky note to the pile of plastic wrapped waffles.
‘EAT!!!’
The plate goes into the fridge since you don’t know when Jeongguk will be up, and you’ll soon head to work.
Thirty more minutes roll by, until all that's left to do is to relay some information to Jeongguk. Softly, you knock on his door, opening it slightly when half a minute passes with no reply.
Instantly, you smile to yourself. The hybrid is all cuddled up in the bed; a surprisingly small ball covered in white. And at the top, his peaceful face, black locks and ears, and just a little bit of blue stick out.
The hot water bottle. He looks to be hugging it close to his body, content even though it’s long lost its heat.
“Jeongguk?”
He stirs at your quiet call of his name, but he doesn’t wake. And in the process, his arm peeks out from under the covers. You were going to call for him again, but his name dies on your tongue.
There are bruises lining his arm. You didn’t see them last night, and they’re still only a purplish red, meaning that they’re not very old.
The discovery leaves a bad taste in your mouth, and you close the door, looking for a piece of paper, preferably a bit larger than the sticky notes.
Despite starting off with a bit of sadness, your day at work is better than the previous ones, mostly because of the small break-through you think you witnessed the night before. It felt as if, without even really saying anything, Jeongguk opened up a little bit, and that makes you happy.
The moment you step back inside the apartment, you hear the telltale sound of Mario Kart, and you smile to yourself as you remove your jacket and shoes.
On your way to the living room, you stop by the kitchen to see the plate that held the waffles empty and beside it, the note you left.
‘Jeongguk, a friend of mine called Yoongi will stop by and install something for us today. He’s really nice, so I hope you’ll be nice to him as well!’
You hope that some entertainment might make Jeongguk’s stay a little more pleasant, and from what you see when you enter the living room, you’re happy with your decision.
Very briefly, dark eyes meet yours before they’re back on the screen to pause the game.
“Oh, I don’t mind if you play,” you exclaim, guessing that telling him that you specifically asked Yoongi to install it for him, wouldn’t be the best of ideas, even if Jeongguk surely knows it.
However, Jeongguk keeps it paused, watching you. He doesn’t look friendly, nor does he smile, but he... doesn’t look furious. Not like you just murdered his entire family.
“So, it went alright? When Yoongi stopped by?”
The hybrid gives his typical short nod, and you make a mental note to ask your friend as well. Mostly for your own curiosity.
Still satisfied with the albeit short exchange, you exit the living room to head into the kitchen, pulling out ingredients and tools onto the counter. You’ve been craving your grandmother’s homemade bread for literal weeks but haven’t had the time to bake until now.
A few minutes later, while you’re elbows deep into mixing the dough, two things happen almost simultaneously.
Jeongguk walks into the kitchen and with his polite but still somewhat stoic voice asks, “Can I have some water?”
To which you step aside to give him access to the tap, ensuring, “Of course! Just take whatever you want or need.”
And your phone rings.
It lies on the kitchen table, and with your relatively clean pinky, you answer the call, putting it on speaker.
“Hello?” you greet, sticky hands held in the air.
“Hi, it’s Taehyung!”
You freeze at the friendly voice. To say that your feelings and thoughts of Taehyung have changed during the past few days is an understatement. Or... well, you think. No one’s really explicitly told you anything, it’s mostly just signs, implications, and your own gut feeling.
You hope he’s just calling to check in.
“Oh, hi. How are you? And Jihoon?”
“We’re good! He’s still recovering. You know, a procedure of that kind is tough on the body, not to mention if you’re over fifty. They’re keeping him a bit longer, even if he tries to make them let him go earlier,” Taehyung laughs.
“Yeah,” you agree politely, “He should listen to the doctors and take it easy.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell him. But anyway, I’ve got some good news for you!”
You glance worriedly at the phone. Good news?
“Oh?”
“Yeah! I spoke with a friend earlier, and he offered to take Jeongguk. He had some things to do out of town, but seems like he’ll be able to reschedule and take him after all. And I just spoke with Jimin; he’s close by and can pick Jeongguk up in half an hour if that works for you?”
“Half an hour?” you repeat with your heart falling.
When you turn around, Jeongguk stands behind you, sipping water from a glass and staring out the window. You don’t even see his entire profile, but he, as usual, doesn’t show very much emotion.
“Yeah.”
“And this friend...? Who... What’s his name?”
It’s not like you expect to know the person, but you can’t help it. You feel like you need to know.
“Namjoon,” Taehyung answers, and you see Jeongguk’s shoulders falling slightly, and what little you see of his face loses whatever tiny little glimpse of emotion it had before. “Don’t worry, he and Jeongguk know each other.”
It doesn’t take very long for you to come to a decision. The hybrid might not like you, but... you can at least guarantee he’s being looked after properly. That he has a bed to sleep in, all the food he can eat, and... someone who cares for him. And most importantly, you don’t know this Namjoon, but you guess that Jeongguk would rather stay with you judging by his reaction.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind if he stays.”
Taehyung is silent for a second, and you’ve turned away from Jeongguk, so if he reacts in any way, you don’t see it.
“Really? Are you sure? I mean, I know he can be a handful,” he chuckles.
“I promise, it’s fine. He’s not so bad.”
It’s not even a lie. Or maybe he is just a tad bit difficult sometimes, but you’ve already come to the conclusion that if anything, it’s not Jeongguk’s fault. The image of the kangaroo hybrid, all snuggled up to the hot water bottle in bed, flashes before your eyes. That alone is worth it.
“Oh... Well, okay then. That’s very generous of you, so thank you. I’ll let Jimin and Namjoon know.”
You don’t like Taehyung’s words or how surprised and even grateful he sounds. No wonder Jeongguk thinks he’s a burden, and you don’t even know how they treat him at home.
“Yeah, no problem.”
There are a few more sentences exchanged before you hang up—Jeongguk long gone from the kitchen by then—and you can resume your baking. It hits you then just how little you want Jeongguk to go home. To go anywhere. But you don’t think there’s really anything you can do; hybrids have few rights and are basically nothing more than possessions in the eyes of society.
“Can I play?”
Jeongguk looks at you where you stand beside the couch, and immediately, he pauses the game and holds the controller out to you. All while looking... stoic. There’s still almost always that underlying anger. Like he loathes humans so much, and that yes, he will obey, but only because he has to. A part of you wonders how his ‘caretakers’ succeeded in making someone so stubborn and strong comply; another part doesn’t even want to imagine it.
“Oh, I meant with you? There’s another controller, right?”
Stepping in front of the tv, you crouch to look through the little box Yoongi left with games. And, yeah, there it is. You pull it out, fiddling a little with it in your hands as you move to sit down on the couch. With adequate space between you and the hybrid, of course.
“So, I’ve only played Mario Kart once and that was like... years and years ago. Do you think, maybe you could... teach me?”
Jeongguk looks at you, a softer than usual look of surprise on his face. His eyebrows are a tiny bit raised and his lips just slightly parted.
“I’ve never played before today.”
“Really? It certainly looks like you know what you’re doing,” you chuckle, noticing how his eyes flicker subtly in something other than anger?
“Uh, yeah... Yoongi showed me the controls.”
You make a mental note to send flowers and some kind of gift basket to Yoongi’s home. In a way, it doesn’t surprise you that the calm and almost somber-looking man was able to interact with the very suspicious hybrid. Yoongi doesn’t ponder too much; he’s more straight—but calmly so—to the point.
“Will you show them to me, then?”
He nods, and with the controller in his hands, shows you what the buttons do and when to press them. When you feel like you’ve refreshed your memory enough to give it a shot, Jeongguk restarts the game. Of course, the hybrid’s superior reflexes and the few hours he already spent playing lead to his victory. The first time, you can see that he isn’t sure how to act, almost as if he knows not to seem satisfied with winning, but when all you do is complain about your own performance in a lighthearted way and compliment his, he smiles.
The thirty minutes you spent gaming influence the rest of the night, and you smile to yourself as you refill the hot water bottle for Jeongguk right before bed time. He doesn’t acknowledge the gesture, but he doesn’t argue it either, and that’s a win in your book, at least.
However, the next day—thursday—he’s back to being a grump, and at first, you have no idea why. Then it hits you. Thursdays mean ‘activity,’ which probably in turn means fighting. As a result, he’s holed up in the guest room for most of the day, eating only an apple and a banana after you open the door and physically place them and a big water bottle inside.
A few minutes before Jimin is supposed to pick Jeongguk up, you approach the tall hybrid in the hallway.
“So, what is it that you do? Are you… fighting?” you ask, trying to keep your worry and distaste out of your words.
He doesn’t answer, but you can feel his irritation grow and see his ears swivel back, which you by now can tell means that he’s not happy. Maybe you weren’t very successful.
“Are they making you fight?”
Again, he remains quiet, zipping the bag shut.
“Can’t you just answer me for once?” you question, sounding more frustrated than you intended to.
“No.”
You lick your lips, silently cursing at yourself. Things were going so well. If you hadn’t asked—almost accused him—maybe his anger would’ve dwindled naturally.
“Do I come back?” he asks instead, staring at the wall, and you feel the heat radiating as his blood boils. He’s wondering if you’re kicking him out to the street for not answering your question.
“Come back? Of course,” you assure him, your own frustration exchanged for heartache and your voice taking on a softer tone once more. “I have an extra key you can have if that makes you more comfortable?”
“No,” he declines.
“Okay, but promise me you’ll knock, no matter the time?”
You think he’s about to nod, or at least give you some sort of answer, but you’re interrupted by the doorbell.
You linger just inside the closed front door after they’ve left, wondering what you should do to pass the time. Whether you want to or not, you worry a whole lot about Jeongguk, hoping desperately he won’t come back injured.
While you wait, you decide to take the opportunity to cook for him. You’ve tried googling what kangaroo hybrids typically like to eat, but it hasn’t given you a very clear answer, so you settle on a pasta dish. You make sure to use extra cream and to also make him a dessert of banana slices with peanut butter. If he doesn’t want to eat like he should, you can at least try to pack as many calories into what he does eat.
Then, you retrieve the first aid kit, just in case, and the last thing you do before sinking down on the couch to wait in front of the TV is to fluff his pillows and place the filled hot water bottle between the sheets. Hopefully his bed will be warm and ready whenever he returns.
Despite finding a very interesting documentary to watch, you can’t stop yourself, checking your watch as well as the stairwell outside your apartment now and again.
Whether he’d actually knock or try to stay outside again, you won’t actually know because at two-thirty a.m., you hear the slightest of noise from outside and go to open the door, seeing Jeongguk approach.
If you hoped whatever he’s doing with Jimin would’ve made him more at ease, well, it didn’t. He doesn’t greet you, stepping inside and placing his duffel bag on the floor. You try to get a good look at him to see if he is injured, but he appears to move smoothly and without pain, and there’s nothing on his face that seems hurt either.
Unfortunately, Jeongguk doesn’t appreciate the things you did for him while you waited. He scoffs at the bowl of pasta you bring him when he comes out of the shower, and you won’t deny that it breaks your heart a little bit. Even more so when he peers into the guest room, seeing the fluffed pillows.
“I’m not a human nor a baby.”
Unsure of what to do, you give sternness another try. “Eat, Jeongguk.”
But he turns fully toward you, looking down at you like he doesn’t care if you live or die. Although his black eyes and hostile body language honestly do scare you a bit, you try not to show it.
“No,” he grits. “Kick me out, I don’t care.”
His words catch you off guard, and you open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out.
“Can I go to sleep now or do I leave?” he asks stoically when you don’t say anything.
You manage to mutter something about how he can go to sleep, and after he closes the bedroom door behind him, you stand there for a few seconds, stunned.
When you return from work the next day, Jeongguk is still in the guest room with the door shut like he was when you left. With a sigh, you contemplate your best course of action, until you decide on an approach. Perhaps you should’ve really considered what he wants.
“Jeongguk?” you knock on his door, “...I understand that you don’t really want to be here. If you want me to, I can call Taehyung and ask if Namjoon is still free to take you?”
You wait a few seconds, not surprised when there is no answer. Letting a few more seconds pass, you then open the door carefully.
“Jeongguk?”
As the gap in the door widens, you spot him, sitting on the bed with his back toward you.
“No.”
His voice sounds like it often does; informative and not very emotional. But you’ve come to know him and his language well enough to know that there’s a lot of feelings inside; he’s just not allowed to express them.
“‘No’ as in…?”
“I don’t want to go.”
You’re relieved. Both because he answered you and because of what that answer was.
“Okay,” you reply softly, “That’s alright. I baked more bread, do you think you could eat something?”
To your relief, he turns his head a little toward you and nods slightly, and a few minutes later, he comes out of his room to eat some home-baked bread.
That same night, you wake up at three a.m., feeling the telltale signs of something approaching; a very familiar sensation that happens once a month, and you pray to the gods to let you off easy this time. It’s hard enough when you’re alone and not caring for a mostly raging hybrid.
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author's note: i hope you liked it!! <3<3
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you didn't know your estranged uncle had a son. Not until said son dumps an unusually large, very angry, kangaroo hybrid on your doorstep, claiming it's only for a few days while your uncle is in hospital.
pairing: kangaroo hybrid!jk x f!reader
genre: hybrid au, angst, mild fluff
word count: 9.2k (the entire fic is 23.3k)
warnings: none besides the inherent ethics of hybrid-keeping and roo!jk's furious stares
author’s note: to be clear, i first started this fic in 2020/2021 (and i will claim to have been first on the kangakoo agenda with my whole chest 😤 even before bts themselves likened jk to a roo) and finished it over the years, so this is all on lo from the past, current lo is innocent
From what you can remember, there was always a sort of sanity that orbited around your mother. It stemmed from her, and it seeped into everyone around her. Her sister, her brother, her child—you.
She had that thing that made you want to respect her. You don't think you ever heard her raise her voice at anyone, never saw her lose it, and that quiet, comforting understanding is what made her such a great parent. Even your father felt the strings of reason pull on his mind.
But it wasn't always like that. Not for him.
Your father doesn't speak to his brother anymore, hasn't for a long time since he tied the knot with your mother, and honestly, it's for the best. At least according to the vague things you've heard through the years. If your mother was logic, then your father came from the opposite, raised by the chaotic hand of insanity.
Having another cousin—this time on your father's side—hadn't crossed your mind until the little notification bell pinged on Facebook, but nonetheless, there he was, same last name and everything.
Through a few surprisingly polite messages, it became clear that he needed your help. And since there was always that chance of him being nothing like his father, you accepted. After all, insanity can clearly skip a generation.
"It's so great to finally meet you. I'm Taehyung," the blonde-haired man exclaims when you meet him outside the predetermined café. He wears an infectious smile as he enters the building and shows you to a table. Right away, you're caught by surprise because, although his Facebook pictures showed a handsome man, he wasn't this good looking. How is he related to your uncle?
You take off your winter jacket, hands finally thawing as you place the coat over the back of your chair. The small café is not an unfamiliar place; Taehyung offered to come to you since you ‘so graciously’ agreed to help. The place is just a few minutes away from your apartment complex.
"You too," you mumble, watching him start to back away with his wallet raised in his hand. At his question concerning your order, you simply recite your usual: coffee and a blueberry muffin.
"I didn't even know you existed," you admit sheepishly when Taehyung returns to place the little tray down on the table.
"Well, it's not that weird, considering my mom only married your uncle a few years ago. I've heard that he doesn't have the best relationships with the rest of the extended family so..."
You nod, taking a bite out of the fluffy muffin. Makes sense. And if your father knows about the marriage, then he never told you. You didn't exactly consult him before you agreed to help Taehyung either, so it's not like it was brought up.
"And now he's sick?"
"Yeah. Well, he actually had a heart transplant two days ago, but they'll keep him at the hospital for a while since it’s a, you know, heart transplant. So that's why this was all on such short notice; you can't pass up a heart just because no one can watch the hybrid, you know?"
"Yeah, no, of course," you're quick to reassure. "I was just surprised, and well, I don't really have any experience with hybrids. I mean, caring for them."
"Yeah, once again, I'm sorry for the short notice. I would've taken him myself if I could, but I can't, and I knew you lived close by," Taehyung explains, large hands wrapped around the coffee as he sips on it. "But it'll only be for a few days until I can find someone else."
You nod hesitantly, wishing you won't have to take care of the hybrid for long because, truth is, it makes you a bit uncomfortable.
"So, you said before that it's a male? What kind of hybrid is he?"
"Oh, yeah. It's a kangaroo hybrid, and his name is Jeongguk. Rescued as a puppy, or whatever they're called, and had a few families before he ended up with us. Can be a bit of a brat if you spoil him, so make sure he knows you're in charge," a confident smile graces his joking lips.
Despite what you first believed, Taehyung isn't actually related to you or your uncle, and that in itself makes it easier to trust him. The other contributing factor is that smile, the somewhat innocent confidence with which he carries himself.
"And I'd keep him inside if I were you, just to be on the safe side, but if you have to go somewhere with him, then remember that he has to wear his collar and never be more than a few feet from you."
If he can see the look on your face, Taehyung doesn't acknowledge it. You know that hybrids can't be left unsupervised by their owners when out in public, but you’d forgotten about the collar.
"So, are you ready to meet him?" Taehyung raises his eyebrows over the drink he's just about to finish up. With his free hand, he’s collecting his wallet and phone to put in his pocket, and then, he’s rising from the chair.
"What? Now?" you ask, still chewing the last bits of the muffin. When Taehyung had been the only one to show, you assumed the hybrid would arrive later. Like, in a day or something.
"Yeah, he's in the car. Unfortunately, he can’t stay with me any longer, so I really have to drop him off today."
You wonder why he didn't bring the hybrid inside the café since they are welcome and it's cold, literally snowing, outside. But you don't say anything, just grab your things—half full paper mug included—and follow the tall man outside.
Hybrids are normally slightly smaller than the average human, mainly derived from house pets such as cats and dogs, although there are definitely other kinds. But the hybrid that steps out of Taehyung's sleek, black car is anything but small.
He's wearing a winter jacket similar to his owner's, only a bit thinner because 'hybrids run warm,' according to Taehyung. It makes it hard to describe his body shape, but it appears they are roughly the same height and size, at least.
He's got the black jacket zipped up to right beneath his chin, and after grabbing a duffel bag from the car, he remains standing there, dark and cold eyes staring you down. You gulp at his intensity.
"H–hello," you stutter nervously, obviously surprised and intimidated but not stunned enough to be rude. However, if you thought it would warm him up, perhaps even grant you a greeting in return, you’re mistaken; the hybrid just glares at you. Until Taehyung intervenes.
"Gguk, be nice," he voices sternly, making Jeongguk soften his glare a tad and bow his head reluctantly in your direction.
While Taehyung introduces the two of you, one thing keeps occupying your mind. Or, well, two things. Jeongguk's ears.
If Taehyung hadn't already told you beforehand what kind of hybrid the dark-haired male was, then the ears would've made you think donkey. And you mean that in the best way. They're big, longer than those of a regular horse but rounder than a rabbit's. And they're dark, almost black. Jeongguk keeps them turned back, a little lowered. He's not scared; they don't convey submission, more... suspicion. He doesn't trust you.
This isn't your first time seeing a hybrid or anything; you've met some of them before, although very briefly. You still consider yourself pretty knowledgeable; you're one of those people who know a little bit about everything, and hybrids aren't an exception. The thing is just that you've never had to put that hybrid knowledge to the test. Besides, the ones you met previously were all mellow, well-behaved, and with their owners. You'd expected a golden retriever puppy but were met with a wolf.
“It’s a birth defect,” Taehyung explains casually after catching your gaze. “They’re not supposed to be black.”
It throws you off, how he speaks of the hybrid, but since neither of them seem to share your opinion, you don’t question it.
Taehyung keeps chatting all the way up to your apartment, his voice becoming elevator music as you glance at the pair through the mirror in front of you.
It's not only the fact that Jeongguk already seems to despise you that makes you lower your gaze quicker than ever when it's met by his sharp, dark eyes.
Taehyung is gorgeous. Dark blonde hair covers most of his forehead except for a little sliver, and he's blessed with dark eyes, framed by long lashes, and that infectious smile. But Jeongguk is more than that; he has something else that catches your eye more so than Taehyung, and it's not his animal features.
When the elevator reaches the fifth floor with a 'ding,' you step out and take the lead. The sound of your keys jingling echoes through the hallway and intensifies when you reach up to unlock the door to your apartment.
"Here it is," you say, back turned against the others as you open the door wide and step inside.
"Cozy," you hear Taehyung compliment even before he's seen more than the first part of your hallway.
"Thank you."
You show Jeongguk where to hang his jacket and put his shoes while Taehyung remains dressed for the outdoors.
"He's not very complicated. Eats anything, sleeps anywhere. He has his clothes and other necessary stuff with him."
As Taehyung speaks, your eyes drift to the male in between you. He's facing you, still in the hallway, and he's wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. It's like he doesn't even hear that he's being talked about, his eyes staring into the air, and his face blank.
You don't think Taehyung is lying. Well, not intentionally. But you hesitate because Jeongguk still hasn't said a single word to you, and it's obvious he does not want to be there.
Taehyung reaches for the door handle.
"Wait!"
He stops to look at you.
"Are you sure?" you ask. It's Taehyung who you're speaking to, but your eyes are still carefully watching Jeongguk. "He doesn't... are you sure this is okay?"
"Look, I really need your help," Taehyung pleads, suddenly way more serious. "It'll be fine, and I'll try to find someone else as soon as possible, so hopefully it's only for a few days."
"Yeah, but he..."
What are you going to say? You won't lie and say the hybrid's hostility doesn't make you uncomfortable, because it does, but you're mostly asking for his sake. He doesn't want to be left with you.
Taehyung's eyes follow yours, but while you watch Jeongguk with worry, Taehyung's gaze burns holes in his head from behind.
"Don't worry, he'll behave. He knows he's not coming home otherwise."
There's a second of silence before Jeongguk gives one determined nod to show that he got it. You're left speechless, and Taehyung reaches for the door handle once again. But before he actually opens the door, he turns back one last time.
"Oh, I almost forgot. He has activities on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. I'll send a friend to pick him up and drive him, but just so you know, he'll be back late." With that, and a small wave your way, Taehyung leaves. And you're all alone with a strange hybrid.
"Well, uh, feel free to look around," you gesture around you before bending down to take off your shoes that you'd forgotten.
Jeongguk does that same kind of nod again, and then he walks past you, giving a clear view of something you didn't see before. His dark tail. Your fingers let go of the laces as you stare up at it in awe. It's huge, could easily sweep the floor after him if he didn't keep it up. Unlike the tails of other animals like, say lions, it's thick and looks a lot stiffer. But it’s still not as thick as the ones you’ve seen on real kangaroos.
Suddenly, Jeongguk stops. He's caught you staring. And now, he's glaring at you. Cheeks tinged pink, you return your attention to your boots, and you can hear Jeongguk disappear further into the apartment.
It doesn't feel good. This whole thing leaves a bad taste in your mouth. You think back to Taehyung's words, even those he said at the café, those you thought were meant as a joke.
Make sure he knows you're in charge? Those practices are outdated and were disproven years ago, even for raising dogs. And if Jeongguk doesn't behave? He's not allowed back home? What does that mean? Where would he go?
Minutes later, you find him in the living room, standing beside your large, gray couch.
"What are your rules?" he asks stoically. "I'm allowed to sleep on the couch back home, just so you know."
You can't help but furrow your eyebrows in confusion. Why does it sound a little like he's bragging?
"Rules? I don't know, uh, don't... intentionally break anything? And I already prepared the guest room for you. Clean sheets in the bed."
"Bed?" Now it's Jeongguk's turn to draw his eyebrows together, although he appears more skeptical. "I prefer the couch."
The way he says it is so confident that it sways you. But you still don't understand why he'd choose the couch over a bed.
"Uh, okay... Well, you can sleep wherever you want, I guess, but you're more than welcome to use the guest room and sleep in the bed there."
Jeongguk seems insistent, but after a very brief tour of your apartment, mostly you pointing to the kitchen and bathroom and assuring that he can take and use whatever he wants, he eventually does retreat to the guest room.
The closed door has you on your toes in the beginning, scared that he’ll appear at any moment and glare you to death, but he never does. You ask through it what he likes to eat, but you don't get an answer, and when you've gone ahead and cooked your favorite food, he doesn't come out to eat, either.
It doesn't feel very good to go to bed without having seen your guest eat anything, but your alarm will go off earlier than you'd really want the morning after, and you think Jeongguk would value being left alone without food higher than being nagged at.
After shutting the alarm off, you stretch your arms over your head and blink the sleep from your eyes. Slowly, you get up to head towards the bathroom, and just as slowly, yesterday’s events come back to you. On your way there, you have to pass by the living room, and when you do, you see him.
If you thought that the kangaroo hybrid locking himself in the guest room meant that he decided to sleep in there too... then you were absolutely wrong. He's tall, but even if he’d chosen to lie straight and not curled up like he is, he’d fit. One of the decorative pillows is under his head, but he doesn't have anything covering him. Not even though there are two soft blankets folded up and draped over the couch.
Your apartment is on the chillier side, and seeing Jeongguk in only a t-shirt and basketball shorts sends a shiver down your spine. Taehyung did say that hybrids run hotter, so you guess it's fine...
It doesn't take you long to get ready. A quick shower, clean clothes, some make-up, and then you're ready to go. You've never been one to eat breakfast, but when you fill a huge bowl with apples, bananas, and oranges, you grab an apple for yourself. You have a feeling that Jeongguk is the type to never want to owe anyone anything, even when there is no debt, but you're hoping he'll at least take some fruit. If he's going to stay multiple days, then he definitely needs to eat.
You could write a note, telling him that you've left for work. You should write the note. But your brain, still half asleep, tiptoes into the living room.
When he's sleeping, Jeongguk looks much nicer. Not at all the harsh looks and mean clench of his jaw. Black locks fall into his face, and the ears look so incredibly soft that you just want to reach out and touch. But that would be weird and not cool. And even if his face looks softer, his choice of sleep attire reveals that, physically, he’s very much capable of beating you to death. He lies on his side, facing you, but it’s still obvious how broad his shoulders are and how the muscles bulge under his skin. There are a few prominent veins stemming from the inside of his biceps and reaching all over his forearms and the backs of his hands.
The apartment really is cold at the moment, and despite Taehyung's words, you notice goosebumps lining the hybrid's naked arms. You step away to reach for the warmest blanket you own, unfolding it and gently draping it over Jeongguk's body. Luckily, it's big enough to even cover the tip of his tail.
And lastly, before you leave, you make the mistake.
"Jeongguk," you speak softly, putting your hand on his shoulder to gently wake him up. But it doesn't quite go as planned when he wakes and immediately slaps your hand off him.
"Don't touch me!" he growls, in a half-seated position and with his ears pinned back. "Don't ever touch me!"
Your blood freezes as you retract your hand and step back as quickly as you can. "I–I'm sorry," you whisper in a panic, so caught off guard, it's not even funny. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to say that I'm leaving for work."
He looks so angry, and the thought that it was you who made something so miscalculated and wrong makes your eyes tear up. But you don't think he notices because you're quick to turn away, and he lies back down again without a word.
You spend the next few hours at work completely thrown off. Black eyes haunt your mind, the way he jumped back to put more distance between you, and his snarled words... It's all burnt into your memory.
You can definitely say you're not in a hurry to get home. Grocery store, clothing shops, you even stop by a florist on your way. But food is the only thing in your bags as you unlock the door to your apartment.
It’s quiet when you enter, except for the sound of the tv, and when you step further into the apartment, your eyes meet. He's on the couch, staring at you. Well, at least he's not trying to end you with his fists. And so you offer him a small smile before you take the bags to the kitchen to unpack.
The fridge looks just as it did when you last checked it; the only sign of the hybrid eating anything is the fruit bowl that seems to be missing a few pieces. You chew on your lip, trying to decide what to cook for dinner. It's already eight p.m.
"Do you have a favorite dish?" you voice without even entering the living room, only approaching to the point you can see Jeongguk’s face.
He keeps his eyes on the tv where some old movie is playing. "No, I eat anything."
"Yeah, but... nothing you like the most?" You hold your breath, desperately wanting to make the morning's misstep up to him but hopefully without angering him again.
"No."
Well, you're not going to push him any further, so you nod and retreat into the kitchen. You just hope he wasn't lying and that you won’t accidentally cook him something that’ll make him hurl.
You end up making a stew, going through your emails while it cooks. The room fills with the smell of food, and you realize how hungry you are. When it’s done, you carry a large bowl of it along with some toasted garlic bread and a glass of water into the living room on a tray.
You notice Jeongguk discreetly sniffing the air as you put the tray down onto the coffee table. It's not directly in front of him due to what happened earlier, you don't want to make him feel suffocated by being too close. Not in any way. He shows no emotions, just looks at you, and you avert your gaze, feeling... embarrassed?
"Can't return you in bad shape," you smile awkwardly and mumble so quietly you doubt he even hears it before you turn around and leave, going back to eat your portion in the safety of the kitchen.
Spoonful after spoonful, you chew the meat while looking out the kitchen window. Most of all, you see the reflection of your own face.
What is Jeongguk's life like at home? You're aware that there are lots of bad hybrid owners who abuse the ones that need them the most, but except for Taehyung's parting words and that joke, there aren't any indicators that Jeongguk is being mistreated. Right?
He seems healthy. He might not have the hugest of appetites at your place, but he looks far from malnourished. It's not like he's small and defenseless either. However Jeongguk is treated, the fact that he despises you remains. You just don't understand why.
Jeongguk doesn't lock himself away inside the guest room that night, but he doesn't sleep in there either, still preferring the couch for some reason. At least he ate everything you put on that tray.
And when you leave for work the next morning, you don't make the same mistake again. You simply leave without saying anything to the hybrid curled up on the couch.
It isn't quite as late when you return home as it was the day before, and when you step into the hallway, you see Jeongguk bent over his duffel bag, seemingly... packing?
He zips it closed and stands up, eyes meeting yours. No greeting, but you honestly don't expect anything of the kind anymore.
"Are you going somewhere?" you ask, confused but minding your tone as to not sound accusing.
"It's Tuesday. Jimin is waiting." He walks around you where you stand, reaching for his jacket from the hanger. You step away, maybe too fast and too noticeable, but you really don't want to anger him by accidentally brushing against him. If he notices, he doesn't show it.
"Oh," you look away, embarrassed because you’d definitely forgotten. "When will you be back?"
“Don’t know.”
“Oh, okay. Be safe,” you speak, but he’s almost entirely out the door before you’ve finished. It’s not like you even know where he’s going or what he’s doing, and you certainly don’t think he’d appreciate you asking.
With a sigh, you lock the door behind him.
Taehyung said that Jeongguk would be late, but as movie after movie ends, and there’s still no sign of the hybrid, you begin to worry.
He left at around six p.m., and midnight passed an hour ago when you send a somewhat panicked text to Taehyung, asking if Jeongguk shouldn’t have returned by now.
‘Yeah, he should.’
You lick your lips as your anxious heart beats faster. What if something’s happened to him?
Before you’re able to ask what you’re going to do, Taehyung sends another text.
‘The gps in his chip shows he’s at yours, though?’
What?
You watched Jeongguk leave, and if he returned, you would’ve heard it. Still, with phone in hand and Taehyung’s messages open, you look through all the rooms.
No kangaroo hybrid to be seen.
The very last thing you do before you’ll admit defeat is to check the stairwell. There’s absolutely no reason Jeongguk would be there, but when the door glides open… he is. He sits on the stairs leading a floor up, with his bag beside him, jacket folded over his lap, and blood coming from his mouth.
“Oh my god, what happened?”
For a brief second, Jeongguk meets your eyes and looks… surprised? But it soon evolves into that familiar look of irritation as he regains control over the muscles of his face.
“Nothing.”
It’s clearly not nothing, and still very much worried, you open the door all the way and motion for him to enter.
“Let’s get you inside and cleaned up.”
But of course, you should’ve expected him to fight.
“It’s just a busted lip,” he argues quietly but still rises from the stairs and grabs his duffel bag by its handles.
“But you’re bleeding…”
When you peer back at him, you notice that he’s put the sleeve of the jacket he’s not wearing pressed to his mouth as if he hadn’t known the red liquid was still seeping from the wound. Also like he rather stains his jacket than your floor.
The first thing you do is head to the kitchen to retrieve some tissues, offering them up to Jeongguk when you return to the hallway.
“Why don’t you take a quick shower, and I can take a look at your lip after?” you suggest because not only is the hybrid injured, but he looks to have sweated a lot.
Reluctantly, he accepts the tissues, replacing the sleeve of his jacket with them and putting pressure on his lip. The jacket gets hung on a hanger, and then Jeongguk leaves, gathering a change of clothes and a towel from the guest room before he enters the bathroom, huffing angrily the entire time.
With the sound of the shower running as background noise, you sway from foot to foot in the kitchen, biting at your nails. What happened that resulted in such an injury? Why was he so sweaty? And what kind of friend was this ‘Jimin’ if he didn’t bother to clean Jeongguk up? Make sure he got home properly? Well, not home home, but still.
The sound of the bathroom door unlocking and opening is what snaps you out of your thoughts, and you go to meet him right outside. He’s wearing a new set of sleep attire, although the same style as yesterday; a black t-shirt and some gray shorts. His hair is wet but it doesn’t drip, and you fight the urge to just… stare at his ears. They’re partially pinned back like they always are, but when they and his black locks are wet, they’re more prominent and, well, cute.
Jeongguk observes you with suspicion and with paper still pressed to his mouth.
“Let me see?” you ask, trying to sound as non-threatening as possible.
“It’s nothing,” he grumbles the same words from earlier.
“Please?” You’re no expert on wounds but what if he needs professional care? How are you supposed to sleep without knowing?
“No,” he answers strictly and makes an attempt to walk around you. But you step in front of him, blocking his way.
Jeongguk stares down at you, but you can’t let it go. Not if he’s in pain and it could be somewhat serious.
“Weren’t you supposed to behave?” you remind sternly, and you can see the way a flash of surprise washes over his face before he’s pressing his lips together and clenching his jaw. You would never tell Taehyung, or anyone, that Jeongguk was misbehaving, not when you still don’t know what the consequences might be, and certainly not for something so insignificant.
But Jeongguk doesn’t know that.
With a cold glare, he lowers the tissue. But it’s too dark in the hallway, so you ask him to follow you back inside the bathroom where the ceiling lights are bordering on surgical.
Without touching him, you motion to the spot where you want him to stand, in front of the washing machine, and then, you rise to your toes to get a better look, trying to ignore the way his glare makes your intimidated heart beat faster.
You have to stop yourself from grasping his chin and so instead, your hand floats a few inches from his face. It makes it more difficult to see how deep the gash is when you can’t move his face around, but it will have to do. After all, you haven’t forgotten how he reacted to your touch the first time. First and last time.
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” he grumbles.
You lace your voice with that sternness again while looking him straight in the eye. “Are you lying?”
Your courage surprises you because Jeongguk is a lot bigger than you. He towers over you, and he’s fit and muscular, you’ve already established that. He’s also not very happy or fond of you, but glaring at you is the farthest he will go, you’re already a hundred percent certain of that. It doesn’t matter that his lip is wounded and that someone else might also be sporting injuries and bruises. If he wanted to hurt you, he would’ve done so already.
When he doesn’t say anything, only keeps his cold stare on you, you know two things. What the answer to your question is, and how to handle him. If necessary, that is, you don’t particularly enjoy threatening him.
Even though his lip is painful, Jeongguk’s wound doesn’t look too serious. And by that, you mean not serious enough for you to drag him to your car and speed toward the closest hybrid doctor. But you sink down from your toes as your eyebrows draw together.
When you open your mouth this time, your voice is softer. “So… what happened?”
He’s so pretty, he really is. You think back to the vision of him sleeping and how innocent and carefree he seemed. You’ve never seen him be anything besides angry while awake, and you absolutely hate that he feels the need to always be so guarded and hostile. And, of course, you also hate that someone, a few hours ago, split his skin open and made him bleed.
Taking advantage of the way you’ve softened, Jeongguk mutters, “Nothing,” and sidesteps you, disappearing through the door.
But you follow.
He’s about to pull back one of the blankets on the couch when you catch up, and you immediately gather all of that determination again.
“Nuh-uh, you’re not sleeping there.”
He halts his movements, standing there with the corner of the blanket in his hand, and you can see, even from the distance, how his grip tightens and jaw clenches. Then, he drops the blanket, still looking at it where it lies on the couch.
“When should I be back? Or should I not bother?” he mutters.
You don’t give yourself time to absolutely break at his words. “Guest room. Now.”
You turn on your heel, not staying to make sure he’s actually following, but as you open the door to the guest room, there he is, right behind you and obeying.
“This is where you’re sleeping.”
“No.”
“Yes, you are. I’ll lock you in here, I don’t care.”
“I can’t. There will be hair on the sheets. Maybe blood as well.”
“You listen to me. I don’t care. You’re sleeping in here, and if I wake up tomorrow to find you sleeping somewhere else other than in that bed, I will not be happy.”
For a few seconds, Jeongguk seems to believe that if he challenges you to an angry stare-off–and wins–you’ll surrender. However, you don’t give up that easily, and when those seconds have passed, you still gesture determinedly towards the bed.
“Get in. Now.”
Huffing, he passes you, and you watch as he reaches the bed and reluctantly pulls the white covers back like he had tried to do with the blanket, and gets inside. He doesn’t lie down, just sits there, watching you.
You point your finger at him. “Stay there, I’ll be back in a second.”
Without waiting for any kind of answer you don’t think he’d give you anyway, you return to the bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet in search of some painkillers. You pop a pill into your palm and on your way back to the guest room, you stop by the kitchen to get a glass of water as well.
Jeongguk remains in the same exact position you left him in, and he follows your figure with his eyes as you approach him to place the two things on the bedside table.
The second you straighten up, you suddenly remember something. Not used to sounding so harsh, you almost slip back into your usual voice and choice of words but manage to stop yourself at the last second. You clear your throat.
“Did you eat today?”
You’re taller than him when you’re standing and he’s sitting, but his eyes hold the same hostility as when he’d been towering over you previously.
“Yes,” he grits.
“When?” you push.
He stares at you with those eyes of death before he finally gives up. “Eleven,” he grits, staring right into your soul.
“A.m.? P.m.?”
“A.m.”
To be honest, it doesn’t surprise you, even if you feel terrible. But you don’t allow yourself to soften now either, knowing he won’t listen if you do.
“Okay. Here’s the deal, you’re going to sleep in here, in this bed, but not after you’ve eaten. Get it?”
Jeongguk doesn’t give you an answer, not even a nod of his head until you urge further. “Understood?”
And when he does, you march out of that room and into the kitchen where you’re pulling out the rest of what you cooked for dinner, the portion of lasagna he didn’t get to eat when he didn’t come home and that you forgot all about when the worry had started to set in.
It’s only when the microwave beeps that Jeongguk shows up, not exactly ecstatic but what’s new? You place the plate, a set of utensils, and another glass of water on the table, and then you wait until he turns the chair sideways and sits down.
You won’t deny how cute you find it that he prefers to sit like that, with his tail hanging towards the floor behind him. It makes sense that it’s more comfortable for him though, the tail isn’t as flexible as that of something like a cat.
You might be pretending to be mean—you wouldn’t think you’re doing a great job if it weren’t for the way Jeongguk is actually obeying—but even then, you decide to not be so weird as to stand and watch him eat.
Instead, you turn your back to him and busy yourself with the few plates needing to be washed, and you boil some water.
While he eats, Jeongguk doesn’t pay you any attention as you come and go. He just sits there and eats, and you can’t even tell if your cooking is the best he’s ever had or if it tastes like something out of a dumpster.
Before he’s finished, you have: done some dishes, taken out the trash, cleaned the microwave and wiped down the counter, and lastly, filled a hot water bottle and hidden it between the sheets in Jeongguk’s bed.
It’s not like you’ve missed the seemingly always-present goosebumps on his skin or the way he’ll sometimes rub at his arms when he thinks you aren’t looking. One Google search quickly informed you that, yeah, hybrids typically do run warmer, but it depends on the species, and Jeongguk, well, he’s a kangaroo hybrid. Not exactly an animal usually found at the poles. And since your apartment is chillier than average, you retrieved the blue hot water bottle from its forgotten place in your little storage closet.
When you return to the kitchen, Jeongguk has finished eating and is washing the plate and utensils in the sink. You would’ve gladly done it for him, but since he hasn’t spotted you, you back away quietly.
After a minute or so, he exits the kitchen, and you—typing a text to a friend despite the late hour—call out when he passes the guest room.
“Was gonna brush my teeth first…” he informs arrogantly, and you feel your cheeks heat up.
“Alright, do that. And then, straight to bed.”
You choose to wait a few minutes after he’s retreated into the guest room to follow him, knocking on the closed door. “Jeongguk?”
As expected, he doesn’t answer, so you wait a few more seconds—enough for him to cover himself if he happened to be naked—and then you open the door slowly.
He’s watching you from the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard and the white covers over his lap.
“Why were you in the stairwell earlier?” you ask, not bothering to beat around the bush.
Again, to no one’s surprise, he just stares harshly at you until you raise your eyebrows expectantly.
“I can’t disturb you.”
Oh, how your heart hurts. You let go of the door handle, stepping into the room to sit on the edge of the bed, as far away from the hybrid as you can.
“Were you going to stay there? All night?”
The pain in your voice is evident, and in that moment, something happens. Jeongguk doesn’t answer you, but he also turns his head away, tired eyes looking at the floor.
“Do you really think I’d go to bed without knowing where you were? That you were safe? I was waiting for you.”
Your eyes become glassy as you take in the being before you. Someone forced to be dependent on others, and who has learned not to make noise. He was going to sleep in the stairwell because he knew he shouldn’t bother you if you were sleeping already.
“You’re not a bother. Not to me.”
You don’t wait for an answer this time, feeling like the day has been emotional and draining enough, and after leaving the guest room with a whispered ‘good night,’ you spend an hour trying to fall asleep.
He hadn’t stretched his legs out enough to feel the hot water bottle when you sat with him, and you smile sadly as you try to imagine his reaction to the warmth. One thing’s for sure; Jeongguk deserves better.
In contrast to the letters you’re scribbling down, you’re smiling, and it’s with light hands and a quietly hummed melody you’re attaching the yellow sticky note to the pile of plastic wrapped waffles.
‘EAT!!!’
The plate goes into the fridge since you don’t know when Jeongguk will be up, and you’ll soon head to work.
Thirty more minutes roll by, until all that's left to do is to relay some information to Jeongguk. Softly, you knock on his door, opening it slightly when half a minute passes with no reply.
Instantly, you smile to yourself. The hybrid is all cuddled up in the bed; a surprisingly small ball covered in white. And at the top, his peaceful face, black locks and ears, and just a little bit of blue stick out.
The hot water bottle. He looks to be hugging it close to his body, content even though it’s long lost its heat.
“Jeongguk?”
He stirs at your quiet call of his name, but he doesn’t wake. And in the process, his arm peeks out from under the covers. You were going to call for him again, but his name dies on your tongue.
There are bruises lining his arm. You didn’t see them last night, and they’re still only a purplish red, meaning that they’re not very old.
The discovery leaves a bad taste in your mouth, and you close the door, looking for a piece of paper, preferably a bit larger than the sticky notes.
Despite starting off with a bit of sadness, your day at work is better than the previous ones, mostly because of the small break-through you think you witnessed the night before. It felt as if, without even really saying anything, Jeongguk opened up a little bit, and that makes you happy.
The moment you step back inside the apartment, you hear the telltale sound of Mario Kart, and you smile to yourself as you remove your jacket and shoes.
On your way to the living room, you stop by the kitchen to see the plate that held the waffles empty and beside it, the note you left.
‘Jeongguk, a friend of mine called Yoongi will stop by and install something for us today. He’s really nice, so I hope you’ll be nice to him as well!’
You hope that some entertainment might make Jeongguk’s stay a little more pleasant, and from what you see when you enter the living room, you’re happy with your decision.
Very briefly, dark eyes meet yours before they’re back on the screen to pause the game.
“Oh, I don’t mind if you play,” you exclaim, guessing that telling him that you specifically asked Yoongi to install it for him, wouldn’t be the best of ideas, even if Jeongguk surely knows it.
However, Jeongguk keeps it paused, watching you. He doesn’t look friendly, nor does he smile, but he... doesn’t look furious. Not like you just murdered his entire family.
“So, it went alright? When Yoongi stopped by?”
The hybrid gives his typical short nod, and you make a mental note to ask your friend as well. Mostly for your own curiosity.
Still satisfied with the albeit short exchange, you exit the living room to head into the kitchen, pulling out ingredients and tools onto the counter. You’ve been craving your grandmother’s homemade bread for literal weeks but haven’t had the time to bake until now.
A few minutes later, while you’re elbows deep into mixing the dough, two things happen almost simultaneously.
Jeongguk walks into the kitchen and with his polite but still somewhat stoic voice asks, “Can I have some water?”
To which you step aside to give him access to the tap, ensuring, “Of course! Just take whatever you want or need.”
And your phone rings.
It lies on the kitchen table, and with your relatively clean pinky, you answer the call, putting it on speaker.
“Hello?” you greet, sticky hands held in the air.
“Hi, it’s Taehyung!”
You freeze at the friendly voice. To say that your feelings and thoughts of Taehyung have changed during the past few days is an understatement. Or... well, you think. No one’s really explicitly told you anything, it’s mostly just signs, implications, and your own gut feeling.
You hope he’s just calling to check in.
“Oh, hi. How are you? And Jihoon?”
“We’re good! He’s still recovering. You know, a procedure of that kind is tough on the body, not to mention if you’re over fifty. They’re keeping him a bit longer, even if he tries to make them let him go earlier,” Taehyung laughs.
“Yeah,” you agree politely, “He should listen to the doctors and take it easy.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell him. But anyway, I’ve got some good news for you!”
You glance worriedly at the phone. Good news?
“Oh?”
“Yeah! I spoke with a friend earlier, and he offered to take Jeongguk. He had some things to do out of town, but seems like he’ll be able to reschedule and take him after all. And I just spoke with Jimin; he’s close by and can pick Jeongguk up in half an hour if that works for you?”
“Half an hour?” you repeat with your heart falling.
When you turn around, Jeongguk stands behind you, sipping water from a glass and staring out the window. You don’t even see his entire profile, but he, as usual, doesn’t show very much emotion.
“Yeah.”
“And this friend...? Who... What’s his name?”
It’s not like you expect to know the person, but you can’t help it. You feel like you need to know.
“Namjoon,” Taehyung answers, and you see Jeongguk’s shoulders falling slightly, and what little you see of his face loses whatever tiny little glimpse of emotion it had before. “Don’t worry, he and Jeongguk know each other.”
It doesn’t take very long for you to come to a decision. The hybrid might not like you, but... you can at least guarantee he’s being looked after properly. That he has a bed to sleep in, all the food he can eat, and... someone who cares for him. And most importantly, you don’t know this Namjoon, but you guess that Jeongguk would rather stay with you judging by his reaction.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind if he stays.”
Taehyung is silent for a second, and you’ve turned away from Jeongguk, so if he reacts in any way, you don’t see it.
“Really? Are you sure? I mean, I know he can be a handful,” he chuckles.
“I promise, it’s fine. He’s not so bad.”
It’s not even a lie. Or maybe he is just a tad bit difficult sometimes, but you’ve already come to the conclusion that if anything, it’s not Jeongguk’s fault. The image of the kangaroo hybrid, all snuggled up to the hot water bottle in bed, flashes before your eyes. That alone is worth it.
“Oh... Well, okay then. That’s very generous of you, so thank you. I’ll let Jimin and Namjoon know.”
You don’t like Taehyung’s words or how surprised and even grateful he sounds. No wonder Jeongguk thinks he’s a burden, and you don’t even know how they treat him at home.
“Yeah, no problem.”
There are a few more sentences exchanged before you hang up—Jeongguk long gone from the kitchen by then—and you can resume your baking. It hits you then just how little you want Jeongguk to go home. To go anywhere. But you don’t think there’s really anything you can do; hybrids have few rights and are basically nothing more than possessions in the eyes of society.
“Can I play?”
Jeongguk looks at you where you stand beside the couch, and immediately, he pauses the game and holds the controller out to you. All while looking... stoic. There’s still almost always that underlying anger. Like he loathes humans so much, and that yes, he will obey, but only because he has to. A part of you wonders how his ‘caretakers’ succeeded in making someone so stubborn and strong comply; another part doesn’t even want to imagine it.
“Oh, I meant with you? There’s another controller, right?”
Stepping in front of the tv, you crouch to look through the little box Yoongi left with games. And, yeah, there it is. You pull it out, fiddling a little with it in your hands as you move to sit down on the couch. With adequate space between you and the hybrid, of course.
“So, I’ve only played Mario Kart once and that was like... years and years ago. Do you think, maybe you could... teach me?”
Jeongguk looks at you, a softer than usual look of surprise on his face. His eyebrows are a tiny bit raised and his lips just slightly parted.
“I’ve never played before today.”
“Really? It certainly looks like you know what you’re doing,” you chuckle, noticing how his eyes flicker subtly in something other than anger?
“Uh, yeah... Yoongi showed me the controls.”
You make a mental note to send flowers and some kind of gift basket to Yoongi’s home. In a way, it doesn’t surprise you that the calm and almost somber-looking man was able to interact with the very suspicious hybrid. Yoongi doesn’t ponder too much; he’s more straight—but calmly so—to the point.
“Will you show them to me, then?”
He nods, and with the controller in his hands, shows you what the buttons do and when to press them. When you feel like you’ve refreshed your memory enough to give it a shot, Jeongguk restarts the game. Of course, the hybrid’s superior reflexes and the few hours he already spent playing lead to his victory. The first time, you can see that he isn’t sure how to act, almost as if he knows not to seem satisfied with winning, but when all you do is complain about your own performance in a lighthearted way and compliment his, he smiles.
The thirty minutes you spent gaming influence the rest of the night, and you smile to yourself as you refill the hot water bottle for Jeongguk right before bed time. He doesn’t acknowledge the gesture, but he doesn’t argue it either, and that’s a win in your book, at least.
However, the next day—thursday—he’s back to being a grump, and at first, you have no idea why. Then it hits you. Thursdays mean ‘activity,’ which probably in turn means fighting. As a result, he’s holed up in the guest room for most of the day, eating only an apple and a banana after you open the door and physically place them and a big water bottle inside.
A few minutes before Jimin is supposed to pick Jeongguk up, you approach the tall hybrid in the hallway.
“So, what is it that you do? Are you… fighting?” you ask, trying to keep your worry and distaste out of your words.
He doesn’t answer, but you can feel his irritation grow and see his ears swivel back, which you by now can tell means that he’s not happy. Maybe you weren’t very successful.
“Are they making you fight?”
Again, he remains quiet, zipping the bag shut.
“Can’t you just answer me for once?” you question, sounding more frustrated than you intended to.
“No.”
You lick your lips, silently cursing at yourself. Things were going so well. If you hadn’t asked—almost accused him—maybe his anger would’ve dwindled naturally.
“Do I come back?” he asks instead, staring at the wall, and you feel the heat radiating as his blood boils. He’s wondering if you’re kicking him out to the street for not answering your question.
“Come back? Of course,” you assure him, your own frustration exchanged for heartache and your voice taking on a softer tone once more. “I have an extra key you can have if that makes you more comfortable?”
“No,” he declines.
“Okay, but promise me you’ll knock, no matter the time?”
You think he’s about to nod, or at least give you some sort of answer, but you’re interrupted by the doorbell.
You linger just inside the closed front door after they’ve left, wondering what you should do to pass the time. Whether you want to or not, you worry a whole lot about Jeongguk, hoping desperately he won’t come back injured.
While you wait, you decide to take the opportunity to cook for him. You’ve tried googling what kangaroo hybrids typically like to eat, but it hasn’t given you a very clear answer, so you settle on a pasta dish. You make sure to use extra cream and to also make him a dessert of banana slices with peanut butter. If he doesn’t want to eat like he should, you can at least try to pack as many calories into what he does eat.
Then, you retrieve the first aid kit, just in case, and the last thing you do before sinking down on the couch to wait in front of the TV is to fluff his pillows and place the filled hot water bottle between the sheets. Hopefully his bed will be warm and ready whenever he returns.
Despite finding a very interesting documentary to watch, you can’t stop yourself, checking your watch as well as the stairwell outside your apartment now and again.
Whether he’d actually knock or try to stay outside again, you won’t actually know because at two-thirty a.m., you hear the slightest of noise from outside and go to open the door, seeing Jeongguk approach.
If you hoped whatever he’s doing with Jimin would’ve made him more at ease, well, it didn’t. He doesn’t greet you, stepping inside and placing his duffel bag on the floor. You try to get a good look at him to see if he is injured, but he appears to move smoothly and without pain, and there’s nothing on his face that seems hurt either.
Unfortunately, Jeongguk doesn’t appreciate the things you did for him while you waited. He scoffs at the bowl of pasta you bring him when he comes out of the shower, and you won’t deny that it breaks your heart a little bit. Even more so when he peers into the guest room, seeing the fluffed pillows.
“I’m not a human nor a baby.”
Unsure of what to do, you give sternness another try. “Eat, Jeongguk.”
But he turns fully toward you, looking down at you like he doesn’t care if you live or die. Although his black eyes and hostile body language honestly do scare you a bit, you try not to show it.
“No,” he grits. “Kick me out, I don’t care.”
His words catch you off guard, and you open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out.
“Can I go to sleep now or do I leave?” he asks stoically when you don’t say anything.
You manage to mutter something about how he can go to sleep, and after he closes the bedroom door behind him, you stand there for a few seconds, stunned.
When you return from work the next day, Jeongguk is still in the guest room with the door shut like he was when you left. With a sigh, you contemplate your best course of action, until you decide on an approach. Perhaps you should’ve really considered what he wants.
“Jeongguk?” you knock on his door, “...I understand that you don’t really want to be here. If you want me to, I can call Taehyung and ask if Namjoon is still free to take you?”
You wait a few seconds, not surprised when there is no answer. Letting a few more seconds pass, you then open the door carefully.
“Jeongguk?”
As the gap in the door widens, you spot him, sitting on the bed with his back toward you.
“No.”
His voice sounds like it often does; informative and not very emotional. But you’ve come to know him and his language well enough to know that there’s a lot of feelings inside; he’s just not allowed to express them.
“‘No’ as in…?”
“I don’t want to go.”
You’re relieved. Both because he answered you and because of what that answer was.
“Okay,” you reply softly, “That’s alright. I baked more bread, do you think you could eat something?”
To your relief, he turns his head a little toward you and nods slightly, and a few minutes later, he comes out of his room to eat some home-baked bread.
That same night, you wake up at three a.m., feeling the telltale signs of something approaching; a very familiar sensation that happens once a month, and you pray to the gods to let you off easy this time. It’s hard enough when you’re alone and not caring for a mostly raging hybrid.
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author's note: i hope you liked it!! <3<3
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you didn't know your estranged uncle had a son. Not until said son dumps an unusually large, very angry, kangaroo hybrid on your doorstep, claiming it's only for a few days while your uncle is in hospital.
pairing: kangaroo hybrid!jk x f!reader
genre: hybrid au, angst, mild fluff
word count: 9.2k (the entire fic is 23.3k)
warnings: none besides the inherent ethics of hybrid-keeping and roo!jk's furious stares
author’s note: to be clear, i first started this fic in 2020/2021 (and i will claim to have been first on the kangakoo agenda with my whole chest 😤 even before bts themselves likened jk to a roo) and finished it over the years, so this is all on lo from the past, current lo is innocent
From what you can remember, there was always a sort of sanity that orbited around your mother. It stemmed from her, and it seeped into everyone around her. Her sister, her brother, her child—you.
She had that thing that made you want to respect her. You don't think you ever heard her raise her voice at anyone, never saw her lose it, and that quiet, comforting understanding is what made her such a great parent. Even your father felt the strings of reason pull on his mind.
But it wasn't always like that. Not for him.
Your father doesn't speak to his brother anymore, hasn't for a long time since he tied the knot with your mother, and honestly, it's for the best. At least according to the vague things you've heard through the years. If your mother was logic, then your father came from the opposite, raised by the chaotic hand of insanity.
Having another cousin—this time on your father's side—hadn't crossed your mind until the little notification bell pinged on Facebook, but nonetheless, there he was, same last name and everything.
Through a few surprisingly polite messages, it became clear that he needed your help. And since there was always that chance of him being nothing like his father, you accepted. After all, insanity can clearly skip a generation.
"It's so great to finally meet you. I'm Taehyung," the blonde-haired man exclaims when you meet him outside the predetermined café. He wears an infectious smile as he enters the building and shows you to a table. Right away, you're caught by surprise because, although his Facebook pictures showed a handsome man, he wasn't this good looking. How is he related to your uncle?
You take off your winter jacket, hands finally thawing as you place the coat over the back of your chair. The small café is not an unfamiliar place; Taehyung offered to come to you since you ‘so graciously’ agreed to help. The place is just a few minutes away from your apartment complex.
"You too," you mumble, watching him start to back away with his wallet raised in his hand. At his question concerning your order, you simply recite your usual: coffee and a blueberry muffin.
"I didn't even know you existed," you admit sheepishly when Taehyung returns to place the little tray down on the table.
"Well, it's not that weird, considering my mom only married your uncle a few years ago. I've heard that he doesn't have the best relationships with the rest of the extended family so..."
You nod, taking a bite out of the fluffy muffin. Makes sense. And if your father knows about the marriage, then he never told you. You didn't exactly consult him before you agreed to help Taehyung either, so it's not like it was brought up.
"And now he's sick?"
"Yeah. Well, he actually had a heart transplant two days ago, but they'll keep him at the hospital for a while since it’s a, you know, heart transplant. So that's why this was all on such short notice; you can't pass up a heart just because no one can watch the hybrid, you know?"
"Yeah, no, of course," you're quick to reassure. "I was just surprised, and well, I don't really have any experience with hybrids. I mean, caring for them."
"Yeah, once again, I'm sorry for the short notice. I would've taken him myself if I could, but I can't, and I knew you lived close by," Taehyung explains, large hands wrapped around the coffee as he sips on it. "But it'll only be for a few days until I can find someone else."
You nod hesitantly, wishing you won't have to take care of the hybrid for long because, truth is, it makes you a bit uncomfortable.
"So, you said before that it's a male? What kind of hybrid is he?"
"Oh, yeah. It's a kangaroo hybrid, and his name is Jeongguk. Rescued as a puppy, or whatever they're called, and had a few families before he ended up with us. Can be a bit of a brat if you spoil him, so make sure he knows you're in charge," a confident smile graces his joking lips.
Despite what you first believed, Taehyung isn't actually related to you or your uncle, and that in itself makes it easier to trust him. The other contributing factor is that smile, the somewhat innocent confidence with which he carries himself.
"And I'd keep him inside if I were you, just to be on the safe side, but if you have to go somewhere with him, then remember that he has to wear his collar and never be more than a few feet from you."
If he can see the look on your face, Taehyung doesn't acknowledge it. You know that hybrids can't be left unsupervised by their owners when out in public, but you’d forgotten about the collar.
"So, are you ready to meet him?" Taehyung raises his eyebrows over the drink he's just about to finish up. With his free hand, he’s collecting his wallet and phone to put in his pocket, and then, he’s rising from the chair.
"What? Now?" you ask, still chewing the last bits of the muffin. When Taehyung had been the only one to show, you assumed the hybrid would arrive later. Like, in a day or something.
"Yeah, he's in the car. Unfortunately, he can’t stay with me any longer, so I really have to drop him off today."
You wonder why he didn't bring the hybrid inside the café since they are welcome and it's cold, literally snowing, outside. But you don't say anything, just grab your things—half full paper mug included—and follow the tall man outside.
Hybrids are normally slightly smaller than the average human, mainly derived from house pets such as cats and dogs, although there are definitely other kinds. But the hybrid that steps out of Taehyung's sleek, black car is anything but small.
He's wearing a winter jacket similar to his owner's, only a bit thinner because 'hybrids run warm,' according to Taehyung. It makes it hard to describe his body shape, but it appears they are roughly the same height and size, at least.
He's got the black jacket zipped up to right beneath his chin, and after grabbing a duffel bag from the car, he remains standing there, dark and cold eyes staring you down. You gulp at his intensity.
"H–hello," you stutter nervously, obviously surprised and intimidated but not stunned enough to be rude. However, if you thought it would warm him up, perhaps even grant you a greeting in return, you’re mistaken; the hybrid just glares at you. Until Taehyung intervenes.
"Gguk, be nice," he voices sternly, making Jeongguk soften his glare a tad and bow his head reluctantly in your direction.
While Taehyung introduces the two of you, one thing keeps occupying your mind. Or, well, two things. Jeongguk's ears.
If Taehyung hadn't already told you beforehand what kind of hybrid the dark-haired male was, then the ears would've made you think donkey. And you mean that in the best way. They're big, longer than those of a regular horse but rounder than a rabbit's. And they're dark, almost black. Jeongguk keeps them turned back, a little lowered. He's not scared; they don't convey submission, more... suspicion. He doesn't trust you.
This isn't your first time seeing a hybrid or anything; you've met some of them before, although very briefly. You still consider yourself pretty knowledgeable; you're one of those people who know a little bit about everything, and hybrids aren't an exception. The thing is just that you've never had to put that hybrid knowledge to the test. Besides, the ones you met previously were all mellow, well-behaved, and with their owners. You'd expected a golden retriever puppy but were met with a wolf.
“It’s a birth defect,” Taehyung explains casually after catching your gaze. “They’re not supposed to be black.”
It throws you off, how he speaks of the hybrid, but since neither of them seem to share your opinion, you don’t question it.
Taehyung keeps chatting all the way up to your apartment, his voice becoming elevator music as you glance at the pair through the mirror in front of you.
It's not only the fact that Jeongguk already seems to despise you that makes you lower your gaze quicker than ever when it's met by his sharp, dark eyes.
Taehyung is gorgeous. Dark blonde hair covers most of his forehead except for a little sliver, and he's blessed with dark eyes, framed by long lashes, and that infectious smile. But Jeongguk is more than that; he has something else that catches your eye more so than Taehyung, and it's not his animal features.
When the elevator reaches the fifth floor with a 'ding,' you step out and take the lead. The sound of your keys jingling echoes through the hallway and intensifies when you reach up to unlock the door to your apartment.
"Here it is," you say, back turned against the others as you open the door wide and step inside.
"Cozy," you hear Taehyung compliment even before he's seen more than the first part of your hallway.
"Thank you."
You show Jeongguk where to hang his jacket and put his shoes while Taehyung remains dressed for the outdoors.
"He's not very complicated. Eats anything, sleeps anywhere. He has his clothes and other necessary stuff with him."
As Taehyung speaks, your eyes drift to the male in between you. He's facing you, still in the hallway, and he's wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. It's like he doesn't even hear that he's being talked about, his eyes staring into the air, and his face blank.
You don't think Taehyung is lying. Well, not intentionally. But you hesitate because Jeongguk still hasn't said a single word to you, and it's obvious he does not want to be there.
Taehyung reaches for the door handle.
"Wait!"
He stops to look at you.
"Are you sure?" you ask. It's Taehyung who you're speaking to, but your eyes are still carefully watching Jeongguk. "He doesn't... are you sure this is okay?"
"Look, I really need your help," Taehyung pleads, suddenly way more serious. "It'll be fine, and I'll try to find someone else as soon as possible, so hopefully it's only for a few days."
"Yeah, but he..."
What are you going to say? You won't lie and say the hybrid's hostility doesn't make you uncomfortable, because it does, but you're mostly asking for his sake. He doesn't want to be left with you.
Taehyung's eyes follow yours, but while you watch Jeongguk with worry, Taehyung's gaze burns holes in his head from behind.
"Don't worry, he'll behave. He knows he's not coming home otherwise."
There's a second of silence before Jeongguk gives one determined nod to show that he got it. You're left speechless, and Taehyung reaches for the door handle once again. But before he actually opens the door, he turns back one last time.
"Oh, I almost forgot. He has activities on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. I'll send a friend to pick him up and drive him, but just so you know, he'll be back late." With that, and a small wave your way, Taehyung leaves. And you're all alone with a strange hybrid.
"Well, uh, feel free to look around," you gesture around you before bending down to take off your shoes that you'd forgotten.
Jeongguk does that same kind of nod again, and then he walks past you, giving a clear view of something you didn't see before. His dark tail. Your fingers let go of the laces as you stare up at it in awe. It's huge, could easily sweep the floor after him if he didn't keep it up. Unlike the tails of other animals like, say lions, it's thick and looks a lot stiffer. But it’s still not as thick as the ones you’ve seen on real kangaroos.
Suddenly, Jeongguk stops. He's caught you staring. And now, he's glaring at you. Cheeks tinged pink, you return your attention to your boots, and you can hear Jeongguk disappear further into the apartment.
It doesn't feel good. This whole thing leaves a bad taste in your mouth. You think back to Taehyung's words, even those he said at the café, those you thought were meant as a joke.
Make sure he knows you're in charge? Those practices are outdated and were disproven years ago, even for raising dogs. And if Jeongguk doesn't behave? He's not allowed back home? What does that mean? Where would he go?
Minutes later, you find him in the living room, standing beside your large, gray couch.
"What are your rules?" he asks stoically. "I'm allowed to sleep on the couch back home, just so you know."
You can't help but furrow your eyebrows in confusion. Why does it sound a little like he's bragging?
"Rules? I don't know, uh, don't... intentionally break anything? And I already prepared the guest room for you. Clean sheets in the bed."
"Bed?" Now it's Jeongguk's turn to draw his eyebrows together, although he appears more skeptical. "I prefer the couch."
The way he says it is so confident that it sways you. But you still don't understand why he'd choose the couch over a bed.
"Uh, okay... Well, you can sleep wherever you want, I guess, but you're more than welcome to use the guest room and sleep in the bed there."
Jeongguk seems insistent, but after a very brief tour of your apartment, mostly you pointing to the kitchen and bathroom and assuring that he can take and use whatever he wants, he eventually does retreat to the guest room.
The closed door has you on your toes in the beginning, scared that he’ll appear at any moment and glare you to death, but he never does. You ask through it what he likes to eat, but you don't get an answer, and when you've gone ahead and cooked your favorite food, he doesn't come out to eat, either.
It doesn't feel very good to go to bed without having seen your guest eat anything, but your alarm will go off earlier than you'd really want the morning after, and you think Jeongguk would value being left alone without food higher than being nagged at.
After shutting the alarm off, you stretch your arms over your head and blink the sleep from your eyes. Slowly, you get up to head towards the bathroom, and just as slowly, yesterday’s events come back to you. On your way there, you have to pass by the living room, and when you do, you see him.
If you thought that the kangaroo hybrid locking himself in the guest room meant that he decided to sleep in there too... then you were absolutely wrong. He's tall, but even if he’d chosen to lie straight and not curled up like he is, he’d fit. One of the decorative pillows is under his head, but he doesn't have anything covering him. Not even though there are two soft blankets folded up and draped over the couch.
Your apartment is on the chillier side, and seeing Jeongguk in only a t-shirt and basketball shorts sends a shiver down your spine. Taehyung did say that hybrids run hotter, so you guess it's fine...
It doesn't take you long to get ready. A quick shower, clean clothes, some make-up, and then you're ready to go. You've never been one to eat breakfast, but when you fill a huge bowl with apples, bananas, and oranges, you grab an apple for yourself. You have a feeling that Jeongguk is the type to never want to owe anyone anything, even when there is no debt, but you're hoping he'll at least take some fruit. If he's going to stay multiple days, then he definitely needs to eat.
You could write a note, telling him that you've left for work. You should write the note. But your brain, still half asleep, tiptoes into the living room.
When he's sleeping, Jeongguk looks much nicer. Not at all the harsh looks and mean clench of his jaw. Black locks fall into his face, and the ears look so incredibly soft that you just want to reach out and touch. But that would be weird and not cool. And even if his face looks softer, his choice of sleep attire reveals that, physically, he’s very much capable of beating you to death. He lies on his side, facing you, but it’s still obvious how broad his shoulders are and how the muscles bulge under his skin. There are a few prominent veins stemming from the inside of his biceps and reaching all over his forearms and the backs of his hands.
The apartment really is cold at the moment, and despite Taehyung's words, you notice goosebumps lining the hybrid's naked arms. You step away to reach for the warmest blanket you own, unfolding it and gently draping it over Jeongguk's body. Luckily, it's big enough to even cover the tip of his tail.
And lastly, before you leave, you make the mistake.
"Jeongguk," you speak softly, putting your hand on his shoulder to gently wake him up. But it doesn't quite go as planned when he wakes and immediately slaps your hand off him.
"Don't touch me!" he growls, in a half-seated position and with his ears pinned back. "Don't ever touch me!"
Your blood freezes as you retract your hand and step back as quickly as you can. "I–I'm sorry," you whisper in a panic, so caught off guard, it's not even funny. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to say that I'm leaving for work."
He looks so angry, and the thought that it was you who made something so miscalculated and wrong makes your eyes tear up. But you don't think he notices because you're quick to turn away, and he lies back down again without a word.
You spend the next few hours at work completely thrown off. Black eyes haunt your mind, the way he jumped back to put more distance between you, and his snarled words... It's all burnt into your memory.
You can definitely say you're not in a hurry to get home. Grocery store, clothing shops, you even stop by a florist on your way. But food is the only thing in your bags as you unlock the door to your apartment.
It’s quiet when you enter, except for the sound of the tv, and when you step further into the apartment, your eyes meet. He's on the couch, staring at you. Well, at least he's not trying to end you with his fists. And so you offer him a small smile before you take the bags to the kitchen to unpack.
The fridge looks just as it did when you last checked it; the only sign of the hybrid eating anything is the fruit bowl that seems to be missing a few pieces. You chew on your lip, trying to decide what to cook for dinner. It's already eight p.m.
"Do you have a favorite dish?" you voice without even entering the living room, only approaching to the point you can see Jeongguk’s face.
He keeps his eyes on the tv where some old movie is playing. "No, I eat anything."
"Yeah, but... nothing you like the most?" You hold your breath, desperately wanting to make the morning's misstep up to him but hopefully without angering him again.
"No."
Well, you're not going to push him any further, so you nod and retreat into the kitchen. You just hope he wasn't lying and that you won’t accidentally cook him something that’ll make him hurl.
You end up making a stew, going through your emails while it cooks. The room fills with the smell of food, and you realize how hungry you are. When it’s done, you carry a large bowl of it along with some toasted garlic bread and a glass of water into the living room on a tray.
You notice Jeongguk discreetly sniffing the air as you put the tray down onto the coffee table. It's not directly in front of him due to what happened earlier, you don't want to make him feel suffocated by being too close. Not in any way. He shows no emotions, just looks at you, and you avert your gaze, feeling... embarrassed?
"Can't return you in bad shape," you smile awkwardly and mumble so quietly you doubt he even hears it before you turn around and leave, going back to eat your portion in the safety of the kitchen.
Spoonful after spoonful, you chew the meat while looking out the kitchen window. Most of all, you see the reflection of your own face.
What is Jeongguk's life like at home? You're aware that there are lots of bad hybrid owners who abuse the ones that need them the most, but except for Taehyung's parting words and that joke, there aren't any indicators that Jeongguk is being mistreated. Right?
He seems healthy. He might not have the hugest of appetites at your place, but he looks far from malnourished. It's not like he's small and defenseless either. However Jeongguk is treated, the fact that he despises you remains. You just don't understand why.
Jeongguk doesn't lock himself away inside the guest room that night, but he doesn't sleep in there either, still preferring the couch for some reason. At least he ate everything you put on that tray.
And when you leave for work the next morning, you don't make the same mistake again. You simply leave without saying anything to the hybrid curled up on the couch.
It isn't quite as late when you return home as it was the day before, and when you step into the hallway, you see Jeongguk bent over his duffel bag, seemingly... packing?
He zips it closed and stands up, eyes meeting yours. No greeting, but you honestly don't expect anything of the kind anymore.
"Are you going somewhere?" you ask, confused but minding your tone as to not sound accusing.
"It's Tuesday. Jimin is waiting." He walks around you where you stand, reaching for his jacket from the hanger. You step away, maybe too fast and too noticeable, but you really don't want to anger him by accidentally brushing against him. If he notices, he doesn't show it.
"Oh," you look away, embarrassed because you’d definitely forgotten. "When will you be back?"
“Don’t know.”
“Oh, okay. Be safe,” you speak, but he’s almost entirely out the door before you’ve finished. It’s not like you even know where he’s going or what he’s doing, and you certainly don’t think he’d appreciate you asking.
With a sigh, you lock the door behind him.
Taehyung said that Jeongguk would be late, but as movie after movie ends, and there’s still no sign of the hybrid, you begin to worry.
He left at around six p.m., and midnight passed an hour ago when you send a somewhat panicked text to Taehyung, asking if Jeongguk shouldn’t have returned by now.
‘Yeah, he should.’
You lick your lips as your anxious heart beats faster. What if something’s happened to him?
Before you’re able to ask what you’re going to do, Taehyung sends another text.
‘The gps in his chip shows he’s at yours, though?’
What?
You watched Jeongguk leave, and if he returned, you would’ve heard it. Still, with phone in hand and Taehyung’s messages open, you look through all the rooms.
No kangaroo hybrid to be seen.
The very last thing you do before you’ll admit defeat is to check the stairwell. There’s absolutely no reason Jeongguk would be there, but when the door glides open… he is. He sits on the stairs leading a floor up, with his bag beside him, jacket folded over his lap, and blood coming from his mouth.
“Oh my god, what happened?”
For a brief second, Jeongguk meets your eyes and looks… surprised? But it soon evolves into that familiar look of irritation as he regains control over the muscles of his face.
“Nothing.”
It’s clearly not nothing, and still very much worried, you open the door all the way and motion for him to enter.
“Let’s get you inside and cleaned up.”
But of course, you should’ve expected him to fight.
“It’s just a busted lip,” he argues quietly but still rises from the stairs and grabs his duffel bag by its handles.
“But you’re bleeding…”
When you peer back at him, you notice that he’s put the sleeve of the jacket he’s not wearing pressed to his mouth as if he hadn’t known the red liquid was still seeping from the wound. Also like he rather stains his jacket than your floor.
The first thing you do is head to the kitchen to retrieve some tissues, offering them up to Jeongguk when you return to the hallway.
“Why don’t you take a quick shower, and I can take a look at your lip after?” you suggest because not only is the hybrid injured, but he looks to have sweated a lot.
Reluctantly, he accepts the tissues, replacing the sleeve of his jacket with them and putting pressure on his lip. The jacket gets hung on a hanger, and then Jeongguk leaves, gathering a change of clothes and a towel from the guest room before he enters the bathroom, huffing angrily the entire time.
With the sound of the shower running as background noise, you sway from foot to foot in the kitchen, biting at your nails. What happened that resulted in such an injury? Why was he so sweaty? And what kind of friend was this ‘Jimin’ if he didn’t bother to clean Jeongguk up? Make sure he got home properly? Well, not home home, but still.
The sound of the bathroom door unlocking and opening is what snaps you out of your thoughts, and you go to meet him right outside. He’s wearing a new set of sleep attire, although the same style as yesterday; a black t-shirt and some gray shorts. His hair is wet but it doesn’t drip, and you fight the urge to just… stare at his ears. They’re partially pinned back like they always are, but when they and his black locks are wet, they’re more prominent and, well, cute.
Jeongguk observes you with suspicion and with paper still pressed to his mouth.
“Let me see?” you ask, trying to sound as non-threatening as possible.
“It’s nothing,” he grumbles the same words from earlier.
“Please?” You’re no expert on wounds but what if he needs professional care? How are you supposed to sleep without knowing?
“No,” he answers strictly and makes an attempt to walk around you. But you step in front of him, blocking his way.
Jeongguk stares down at you, but you can’t let it go. Not if he’s in pain and it could be somewhat serious.
“Weren’t you supposed to behave?” you remind sternly, and you can see the way a flash of surprise washes over his face before he’s pressing his lips together and clenching his jaw. You would never tell Taehyung, or anyone, that Jeongguk was misbehaving, not when you still don’t know what the consequences might be, and certainly not for something so insignificant.
But Jeongguk doesn’t know that.
With a cold glare, he lowers the tissue. But it’s too dark in the hallway, so you ask him to follow you back inside the bathroom where the ceiling lights are bordering on surgical.
Without touching him, you motion to the spot where you want him to stand, in front of the washing machine, and then, you rise to your toes to get a better look, trying to ignore the way his glare makes your intimidated heart beat faster.
You have to stop yourself from grasping his chin and so instead, your hand floats a few inches from his face. It makes it more difficult to see how deep the gash is when you can’t move his face around, but it will have to do. After all, you haven’t forgotten how he reacted to your touch the first time. First and last time.
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” he grumbles.
You lace your voice with that sternness again while looking him straight in the eye. “Are you lying?”
Your courage surprises you because Jeongguk is a lot bigger than you. He towers over you, and he’s fit and muscular, you’ve already established that. He’s also not very happy or fond of you, but glaring at you is the farthest he will go, you’re already a hundred percent certain of that. It doesn’t matter that his lip is wounded and that someone else might also be sporting injuries and bruises. If he wanted to hurt you, he would’ve done so already.
When he doesn’t say anything, only keeps his cold stare on you, you know two things. What the answer to your question is, and how to handle him. If necessary, that is, you don’t particularly enjoy threatening him.
Even though his lip is painful, Jeongguk’s wound doesn’t look too serious. And by that, you mean not serious enough for you to drag him to your car and speed toward the closest hybrid doctor. But you sink down from your toes as your eyebrows draw together.
When you open your mouth this time, your voice is softer. “So… what happened?”
He’s so pretty, he really is. You think back to the vision of him sleeping and how innocent and carefree he seemed. You’ve never seen him be anything besides angry while awake, and you absolutely hate that he feels the need to always be so guarded and hostile. And, of course, you also hate that someone, a few hours ago, split his skin open and made him bleed.
Taking advantage of the way you’ve softened, Jeongguk mutters, “Nothing,” and sidesteps you, disappearing through the door.
But you follow.
He’s about to pull back one of the blankets on the couch when you catch up, and you immediately gather all of that determination again.
“Nuh-uh, you’re not sleeping there.”
He halts his movements, standing there with the corner of the blanket in his hand, and you can see, even from the distance, how his grip tightens and jaw clenches. Then, he drops the blanket, still looking at it where it lies on the couch.
“When should I be back? Or should I not bother?” he mutters.
You don’t give yourself time to absolutely break at his words. “Guest room. Now.”
You turn on your heel, not staying to make sure he’s actually following, but as you open the door to the guest room, there he is, right behind you and obeying.
“This is where you’re sleeping.”
“No.”
“Yes, you are. I’ll lock you in here, I don’t care.”
“I can’t. There will be hair on the sheets. Maybe blood as well.”
“You listen to me. I don’t care. You’re sleeping in here, and if I wake up tomorrow to find you sleeping somewhere else other than in that bed, I will not be happy.”
For a few seconds, Jeongguk seems to believe that if he challenges you to an angry stare-off–and wins–you’ll surrender. However, you don’t give up that easily, and when those seconds have passed, you still gesture determinedly towards the bed.
“Get in. Now.”
Huffing, he passes you, and you watch as he reaches the bed and reluctantly pulls the white covers back like he had tried to do with the blanket, and gets inside. He doesn’t lie down, just sits there, watching you.
You point your finger at him. “Stay there, I’ll be back in a second.”
Without waiting for any kind of answer you don’t think he’d give you anyway, you return to the bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet in search of some painkillers. You pop a pill into your palm and on your way back to the guest room, you stop by the kitchen to get a glass of water as well.
Jeongguk remains in the same exact position you left him in, and he follows your figure with his eyes as you approach him to place the two things on the bedside table.
The second you straighten up, you suddenly remember something. Not used to sounding so harsh, you almost slip back into your usual voice and choice of words but manage to stop yourself at the last second. You clear your throat.
“Did you eat today?”
You’re taller than him when you’re standing and he’s sitting, but his eyes hold the same hostility as when he’d been towering over you previously.
“Yes,” he grits.
“When?” you push.
He stares at you with those eyes of death before he finally gives up. “Eleven,” he grits, staring right into your soul.
“A.m.? P.m.?”
“A.m.”
To be honest, it doesn’t surprise you, even if you feel terrible. But you don’t allow yourself to soften now either, knowing he won’t listen if you do.
“Okay. Here’s the deal, you’re going to sleep in here, in this bed, but not after you’ve eaten. Get it?”
Jeongguk doesn’t give you an answer, not even a nod of his head until you urge further. “Understood?”
And when he does, you march out of that room and into the kitchen where you’re pulling out the rest of what you cooked for dinner, the portion of lasagna he didn’t get to eat when he didn’t come home and that you forgot all about when the worry had started to set in.
It’s only when the microwave beeps that Jeongguk shows up, not exactly ecstatic but what’s new? You place the plate, a set of utensils, and another glass of water on the table, and then you wait until he turns the chair sideways and sits down.
You won’t deny how cute you find it that he prefers to sit like that, with his tail hanging towards the floor behind him. It makes sense that it’s more comfortable for him though, the tail isn’t as flexible as that of something like a cat.
You might be pretending to be mean—you wouldn’t think you’re doing a great job if it weren’t for the way Jeongguk is actually obeying—but even then, you decide to not be so weird as to stand and watch him eat.
Instead, you turn your back to him and busy yourself with the few plates needing to be washed, and you boil some water.
While he eats, Jeongguk doesn’t pay you any attention as you come and go. He just sits there and eats, and you can’t even tell if your cooking is the best he’s ever had or if it tastes like something out of a dumpster.
Before he’s finished, you have: done some dishes, taken out the trash, cleaned the microwave and wiped down the counter, and lastly, filled a hot water bottle and hidden it between the sheets in Jeongguk’s bed.
It’s not like you’ve missed the seemingly always-present goosebumps on his skin or the way he’ll sometimes rub at his arms when he thinks you aren’t looking. One Google search quickly informed you that, yeah, hybrids typically do run warmer, but it depends on the species, and Jeongguk, well, he’s a kangaroo hybrid. Not exactly an animal usually found at the poles. And since your apartment is chillier than average, you retrieved the blue hot water bottle from its forgotten place in your little storage closet.
When you return to the kitchen, Jeongguk has finished eating and is washing the plate and utensils in the sink. You would’ve gladly done it for him, but since he hasn’t spotted you, you back away quietly.
After a minute or so, he exits the kitchen, and you—typing a text to a friend despite the late hour—call out when he passes the guest room.
“Was gonna brush my teeth first…” he informs arrogantly, and you feel your cheeks heat up.
“Alright, do that. And then, straight to bed.”
You choose to wait a few minutes after he’s retreated into the guest room to follow him, knocking on the closed door. “Jeongguk?”
As expected, he doesn’t answer, so you wait a few more seconds—enough for him to cover himself if he happened to be naked—and then you open the door slowly.
He’s watching you from the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard and the white covers over his lap.
“Why were you in the stairwell earlier?” you ask, not bothering to beat around the bush.
Again, to no one’s surprise, he just stares harshly at you until you raise your eyebrows expectantly.
“I can’t disturb you.”
Oh, how your heart hurts. You let go of the door handle, stepping into the room to sit on the edge of the bed, as far away from the hybrid as you can.
“Were you going to stay there? All night?”
The pain in your voice is evident, and in that moment, something happens. Jeongguk doesn’t answer you, but he also turns his head away, tired eyes looking at the floor.
“Do you really think I’d go to bed without knowing where you were? That you were safe? I was waiting for you.”
Your eyes become glassy as you take in the being before you. Someone forced to be dependent on others, and who has learned not to make noise. He was going to sleep in the stairwell because he knew he shouldn’t bother you if you were sleeping already.
“You’re not a bother. Not to me.”
You don’t wait for an answer this time, feeling like the day has been emotional and draining enough, and after leaving the guest room with a whispered ‘good night,’ you spend an hour trying to fall asleep.
He hadn’t stretched his legs out enough to feel the hot water bottle when you sat with him, and you smile sadly as you try to imagine his reaction to the warmth. One thing’s for sure; Jeongguk deserves better.
In contrast to the letters you’re scribbling down, you’re smiling, and it’s with light hands and a quietly hummed melody you’re attaching the yellow sticky note to the pile of plastic wrapped waffles.
‘EAT!!!’
The plate goes into the fridge since you don’t know when Jeongguk will be up, and you’ll soon head to work.
Thirty more minutes roll by, until all that's left to do is to relay some information to Jeongguk. Softly, you knock on his door, opening it slightly when half a minute passes with no reply.
Instantly, you smile to yourself. The hybrid is all cuddled up in the bed; a surprisingly small ball covered in white. And at the top, his peaceful face, black locks and ears, and just a little bit of blue stick out.
The hot water bottle. He looks to be hugging it close to his body, content even though it’s long lost its heat.
“Jeongguk?”
He stirs at your quiet call of his name, but he doesn’t wake. And in the process, his arm peeks out from under the covers. You were going to call for him again, but his name dies on your tongue.
There are bruises lining his arm. You didn’t see them last night, and they’re still only a purplish red, meaning that they’re not very old.
The discovery leaves a bad taste in your mouth, and you close the door, looking for a piece of paper, preferably a bit larger than the sticky notes.
Despite starting off with a bit of sadness, your day at work is better than the previous ones, mostly because of the small break-through you think you witnessed the night before. It felt as if, without even really saying anything, Jeongguk opened up a little bit, and that makes you happy.
The moment you step back inside the apartment, you hear the telltale sound of Mario Kart, and you smile to yourself as you remove your jacket and shoes.
On your way to the living room, you stop by the kitchen to see the plate that held the waffles empty and beside it, the note you left.
‘Jeongguk, a friend of mine called Yoongi will stop by and install something for us today. He’s really nice, so I hope you’ll be nice to him as well!’
You hope that some entertainment might make Jeongguk’s stay a little more pleasant, and from what you see when you enter the living room, you’re happy with your decision.
Very briefly, dark eyes meet yours before they’re back on the screen to pause the game.
“Oh, I don’t mind if you play,” you exclaim, guessing that telling him that you specifically asked Yoongi to install it for him, wouldn’t be the best of ideas, even if Jeongguk surely knows it.
However, Jeongguk keeps it paused, watching you. He doesn’t look friendly, nor does he smile, but he... doesn’t look furious. Not like you just murdered his entire family.
“So, it went alright? When Yoongi stopped by?”
The hybrid gives his typical short nod, and you make a mental note to ask your friend as well. Mostly for your own curiosity.
Still satisfied with the albeit short exchange, you exit the living room to head into the kitchen, pulling out ingredients and tools onto the counter. You’ve been craving your grandmother’s homemade bread for literal weeks but haven’t had the time to bake until now.
A few minutes later, while you’re elbows deep into mixing the dough, two things happen almost simultaneously.
Jeongguk walks into the kitchen and with his polite but still somewhat stoic voice asks, “Can I have some water?”
To which you step aside to give him access to the tap, ensuring, “Of course! Just take whatever you want or need.”
And your phone rings.
It lies on the kitchen table, and with your relatively clean pinky, you answer the call, putting it on speaker.
“Hello?” you greet, sticky hands held in the air.
“Hi, it’s Taehyung!”
You freeze at the friendly voice. To say that your feelings and thoughts of Taehyung have changed during the past few days is an understatement. Or... well, you think. No one’s really explicitly told you anything, it’s mostly just signs, implications, and your own gut feeling.
You hope he’s just calling to check in.
“Oh, hi. How are you? And Jihoon?”
“We’re good! He’s still recovering. You know, a procedure of that kind is tough on the body, not to mention if you’re over fifty. They’re keeping him a bit longer, even if he tries to make them let him go earlier,” Taehyung laughs.
“Yeah,” you agree politely, “He should listen to the doctors and take it easy.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell him. But anyway, I’ve got some good news for you!”
You glance worriedly at the phone. Good news?
“Oh?”
“Yeah! I spoke with a friend earlier, and he offered to take Jeongguk. He had some things to do out of town, but seems like he’ll be able to reschedule and take him after all. And I just spoke with Jimin; he’s close by and can pick Jeongguk up in half an hour if that works for you?”
“Half an hour?” you repeat with your heart falling.
When you turn around, Jeongguk stands behind you, sipping water from a glass and staring out the window. You don’t even see his entire profile, but he, as usual, doesn’t show very much emotion.
“Yeah.”
“And this friend...? Who... What’s his name?”
It’s not like you expect to know the person, but you can’t help it. You feel like you need to know.
“Namjoon,” Taehyung answers, and you see Jeongguk’s shoulders falling slightly, and what little you see of his face loses whatever tiny little glimpse of emotion it had before. “Don’t worry, he and Jeongguk know each other.”
It doesn’t take very long for you to come to a decision. The hybrid might not like you, but... you can at least guarantee he’s being looked after properly. That he has a bed to sleep in, all the food he can eat, and... someone who cares for him. And most importantly, you don’t know this Namjoon, but you guess that Jeongguk would rather stay with you judging by his reaction.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind if he stays.”
Taehyung is silent for a second, and you’ve turned away from Jeongguk, so if he reacts in any way, you don’t see it.
“Really? Are you sure? I mean, I know he can be a handful,” he chuckles.
“I promise, it’s fine. He’s not so bad.”
It’s not even a lie. Or maybe he is just a tad bit difficult sometimes, but you’ve already come to the conclusion that if anything, it’s not Jeongguk’s fault. The image of the kangaroo hybrid, all snuggled up to the hot water bottle in bed, flashes before your eyes. That alone is worth it.
“Oh... Well, okay then. That’s very generous of you, so thank you. I’ll let Jimin and Namjoon know.”
You don’t like Taehyung’s words or how surprised and even grateful he sounds. No wonder Jeongguk thinks he’s a burden, and you don’t even know how they treat him at home.
“Yeah, no problem.”
There are a few more sentences exchanged before you hang up—Jeongguk long gone from the kitchen by then—and you can resume your baking. It hits you then just how little you want Jeongguk to go home. To go anywhere. But you don’t think there’s really anything you can do; hybrids have few rights and are basically nothing more than possessions in the eyes of society.
“Can I play?”
Jeongguk looks at you where you stand beside the couch, and immediately, he pauses the game and holds the controller out to you. All while looking... stoic. There’s still almost always that underlying anger. Like he loathes humans so much, and that yes, he will obey, but only because he has to. A part of you wonders how his ‘caretakers’ succeeded in making someone so stubborn and strong comply; another part doesn’t even want to imagine it.
“Oh, I meant with you? There’s another controller, right?”
Stepping in front of the tv, you crouch to look through the little box Yoongi left with games. And, yeah, there it is. You pull it out, fiddling a little with it in your hands as you move to sit down on the couch. With adequate space between you and the hybrid, of course.
“So, I’ve only played Mario Kart once and that was like... years and years ago. Do you think, maybe you could... teach me?”
Jeongguk looks at you, a softer than usual look of surprise on his face. His eyebrows are a tiny bit raised and his lips just slightly parted.
“I’ve never played before today.”
“Really? It certainly looks like you know what you’re doing,” you chuckle, noticing how his eyes flicker subtly in something other than anger?
“Uh, yeah... Yoongi showed me the controls.”
You make a mental note to send flowers and some kind of gift basket to Yoongi’s home. In a way, it doesn’t surprise you that the calm and almost somber-looking man was able to interact with the very suspicious hybrid. Yoongi doesn’t ponder too much; he’s more straight—but calmly so—to the point.
“Will you show them to me, then?”
He nods, and with the controller in his hands, shows you what the buttons do and when to press them. When you feel like you’ve refreshed your memory enough to give it a shot, Jeongguk restarts the game. Of course, the hybrid’s superior reflexes and the few hours he already spent playing lead to his victory. The first time, you can see that he isn’t sure how to act, almost as if he knows not to seem satisfied with winning, but when all you do is complain about your own performance in a lighthearted way and compliment his, he smiles.
The thirty minutes you spent gaming influence the rest of the night, and you smile to yourself as you refill the hot water bottle for Jeongguk right before bed time. He doesn’t acknowledge the gesture, but he doesn’t argue it either, and that’s a win in your book, at least.
However, the next day—thursday—he’s back to being a grump, and at first, you have no idea why. Then it hits you. Thursdays mean ‘activity,’ which probably in turn means fighting. As a result, he’s holed up in the guest room for most of the day, eating only an apple and a banana after you open the door and physically place them and a big water bottle inside.
A few minutes before Jimin is supposed to pick Jeongguk up, you approach the tall hybrid in the hallway.
“So, what is it that you do? Are you… fighting?” you ask, trying to keep your worry and distaste out of your words.
He doesn’t answer, but you can feel his irritation grow and see his ears swivel back, which you by now can tell means that he’s not happy. Maybe you weren’t very successful.
“Are they making you fight?”
Again, he remains quiet, zipping the bag shut.
“Can’t you just answer me for once?” you question, sounding more frustrated than you intended to.
“No.”
You lick your lips, silently cursing at yourself. Things were going so well. If you hadn’t asked—almost accused him—maybe his anger would’ve dwindled naturally.
“Do I come back?” he asks instead, staring at the wall, and you feel the heat radiating as his blood boils. He’s wondering if you’re kicking him out to the street for not answering your question.
“Come back? Of course,” you assure him, your own frustration exchanged for heartache and your voice taking on a softer tone once more. “I have an extra key you can have if that makes you more comfortable?”
“No,” he declines.
“Okay, but promise me you’ll knock, no matter the time?”
You think he’s about to nod, or at least give you some sort of answer, but you’re interrupted by the doorbell.
You linger just inside the closed front door after they’ve left, wondering what you should do to pass the time. Whether you want to or not, you worry a whole lot about Jeongguk, hoping desperately he won’t come back injured.
While you wait, you decide to take the opportunity to cook for him. You’ve tried googling what kangaroo hybrids typically like to eat, but it hasn’t given you a very clear answer, so you settle on a pasta dish. You make sure to use extra cream and to also make him a dessert of banana slices with peanut butter. If he doesn’t want to eat like he should, you can at least try to pack as many calories into what he does eat.
Then, you retrieve the first aid kit, just in case, and the last thing you do before sinking down on the couch to wait in front of the TV is to fluff his pillows and place the filled hot water bottle between the sheets. Hopefully his bed will be warm and ready whenever he returns.
Despite finding a very interesting documentary to watch, you can’t stop yourself, checking your watch as well as the stairwell outside your apartment now and again.
Whether he’d actually knock or try to stay outside again, you won’t actually know because at two-thirty a.m., you hear the slightest of noise from outside and go to open the door, seeing Jeongguk approach.
If you hoped whatever he’s doing with Jimin would’ve made him more at ease, well, it didn’t. He doesn’t greet you, stepping inside and placing his duffel bag on the floor. You try to get a good look at him to see if he is injured, but he appears to move smoothly and without pain, and there’s nothing on his face that seems hurt either.
Unfortunately, Jeongguk doesn’t appreciate the things you did for him while you waited. He scoffs at the bowl of pasta you bring him when he comes out of the shower, and you won’t deny that it breaks your heart a little bit. Even more so when he peers into the guest room, seeing the fluffed pillows.
“I’m not a human nor a baby.”
Unsure of what to do, you give sternness another try. “Eat, Jeongguk.”
But he turns fully toward you, looking down at you like he doesn’t care if you live or die. Although his black eyes and hostile body language honestly do scare you a bit, you try not to show it.
“No,” he grits. “Kick me out, I don’t care.”
His words catch you off guard, and you open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out.
“Can I go to sleep now or do I leave?” he asks stoically when you don’t say anything.
You manage to mutter something about how he can go to sleep, and after he closes the bedroom door behind him, you stand there for a few seconds, stunned.
When you return from work the next day, Jeongguk is still in the guest room with the door shut like he was when you left. With a sigh, you contemplate your best course of action, until you decide on an approach. Perhaps you should’ve really considered what he wants.
“Jeongguk?” you knock on his door, “...I understand that you don’t really want to be here. If you want me to, I can call Taehyung and ask if Namjoon is still free to take you?”
You wait a few seconds, not surprised when there is no answer. Letting a few more seconds pass, you then open the door carefully.
“Jeongguk?”
As the gap in the door widens, you spot him, sitting on the bed with his back toward you.
“No.”
His voice sounds like it often does; informative and not very emotional. But you’ve come to know him and his language well enough to know that there’s a lot of feelings inside; he’s just not allowed to express them.
“‘No’ as in…?”
“I don’t want to go.”
You’re relieved. Both because he answered you and because of what that answer was.
“Okay,” you reply softly, “That’s alright. I baked more bread, do you think you could eat something?”
To your relief, he turns his head a little toward you and nods slightly, and a few minutes later, he comes out of his room to eat some home-baked bread.
That same night, you wake up at three a.m., feeling the telltale signs of something approaching; a very familiar sensation that happens once a month, and you pray to the gods to let you off easy this time. It’s hard enough when you’re alone and not caring for a mostly raging hybrid.
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author's note: i hope you liked it!! <3<3
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What is this vibration omg. I was about to sleep and then decided to check your acct and see you're gonna post kangakoo?!!!! Best believe I'm so ready! 😍
i'm sure a lot wouldn't mind checking it out (🙏🏻) but if i put it in a poll, it's unlikely to ever win 🥹🤩 which is fine and i'm glad my ongoing stories are liked!! ♥️ but if i'm ever gonna post it, i need to just do it lol 😛
