Chapter Text
All hybrids were human. Jeonghan, Minghao, Wonwoo, Vernon, Soonyoung. Every hybrid on the planet. The world was in disarray. The President was missing. His house had been emptied but for the secret dying boy in the basement.
At the end of the day, much was different, so Jihoon and Seungcheol took little notice of the ensuing global politics.
Chan, the sick boy in his sterile room, had learned a lot – perhaps too much, for a young boy. But he seemed to be a perky kid who took every opportunity he could, and that was promising for his outlook on life. He asked Jihoon to teach him poker next time. Jihoon told him: not until he was eighteen.
Soonyoung and Wonwoo went through a process of extreme grief for Seokmin in the months that followed their loss of hybrid identity. To have finally had him back – after all that had happened – to have him ripped from their hands, was almost too much to bear. If they hadn’t had each other, they probably wouldn’t have made it.
Minghao enrolled in university. Jeonghan and Jun were endlessly proud of him. Minghao cried in happiness when he received his acceptance letter.
Jihoon spent days agonizing over his mother’s death – the time they could have and should have had together, the mismade life of an assassin he had been forced to live since. He grieved for what could have been, what should have been. But Seungcheol was always there to dry his tears, dissuade his fears, and hush his nightmares away.
“…I love you too, Jihoon.”
Jihoon smiled, swiping one of his long lopped ears back. “I’m glad. I’m glad I can say it now.”
Seungcheol chuckled, curling his arms around Jihoon’s waist as they waddled towards the bedroom. “I always knew you loved me. It was in every action you completed for me.”
Jihoon smiled. “…you’re welcome, baby.”
“You’re the best.” Seungcheol kissed the top of Jihoon’s head. “Now it’s my turn to take care of my hybrid, since you’ll be the last one ever. I’ll take the best possible care of you. I love you.”
“You know… there’s one really, really good thing about hybrids as opposed to animal pets,” Jihoon said conversationally as he chased their small terrier dog named Doogi off the crisp white bed.
“Oh yeah, what’s that?”
Jihoon pointed at the bed with a soft, content smile. “They don’t leave pawprints on the bedsheets.”
The End.