Jun, Seokmin, and Jihoon spent the rest of the night searching for Seungcheol. Seokmin stood guard at the gates of the Hybrid State Pound, in case raiders brought him in, but no trucks had gone by; Jun scoured any possible routes between his house and Jihoon’s apartment while the master himself conducted a larger sweep of the surrounding city, called every taxi service he could think of, and searching most of the major public transport stations.

Seungcheol was nowhere to be found.

Jihoon had gone to the police office around six AM to report his hybrid missing, but everybody – even the officer on duty – knew that lost hybrids were usually not found again.

Seokmin watched Jihoon disappear into his apartment building, exhausted, as the sun rose on the horizon. He turned to his close friend. “…what do you think?”

Jun slowly shook his head. “I don’t know. If he doesn’t find him…”

“They haven’t been together that long. Half a year? And he didn’t raise Seungcheol, either.”

“Have you seen the way they look at each other?”

Seokmin donned his sunglasses. “…yeah. You’re right.”

“You better get back home to Wonwoo.”

Seokmin smiled warmly. “…he’s napping in the back seat.”

Jihoon closed the door behind him, unable to walk into his apartment, unable to go to bed, unable to even blink properly. All he could see was Seungcheol’s face – how upset he was, the distress in his eyes when he realized Jihoon was leaving him again. How angry he was when Jihoon left anyway.

I shouldn’t have left. I should have stayed with him. He’s the most important person in my entire life. Why would I leave him alone? I’m a ing idiot. I don’t…

“I don’t deserve somebody like Seungcheol.”

There was a little bump sound. At first, Jihoon wasn’t even sure he’d heard it. Then it bumped again.

Right there, laying in the bathtub, shaking unhappily, lay Seungcheol.

He burst out into tears when Jihoon walked in the doorway.

“You… came… back,” he burst out, howling through his upset tears. “I-I thought y-you r-really weren’t – weren’t – weren’t going to!”

“Seungcheol.” Jihoon couldn’t comprehend what was happening. “…you’ve been here? The whole time?”

Seungcheol couldn’t stop crying, simply sobbing at the sight of his master.

Jihoon fell to his knees in complete and total exhaustion, slumping on the bathroom floor. “You were here. You were here the whole time. You were here, safe, the whole time.”

The hybrid was still sobbing but had ceased shaking, surprised by the tone and emotion in his master’s little monologue. His cheeks were stained with tears, simply staring. He couldn’t believe Jihoon had actually come back.

Eventually Jihoon managed to get up again, pick his boyfriend up out of the tub and lead him to bed.

“M-master?” Tears were still streaking down Seungcheol’s face in upset confusion.

Jihoon stared at the bed, and then his boyfriend. “…I’m tired. I want to sleep.” It took him a moment to elaborate. “…we sleep together from now on.”

Seungcheol sniffed.

“…do you not want to?”

To answer that, Seungcheol slid in his side of the bed. Jihoon slid into his own side, laying his arm over Seungcheol’s waist like he did all the time.

Both of them had fallen asleep within seconds, with the sun on the rise.

When Jihoon woke up and found his hybrid, Seungcheol had already cleaned the entire apartment by himself, even mopping the floors, which he hated, cleaned the toilet and the bathroom, done the laundry, made a call to Jun and was at that moment making breakfast waffles for his master.

“…Cheollie.”

The hybrid turned, elated at first, then suddenly guilt-ridden. He looked down at the floor or the walls, anything that wasn’t Jihoon.

Jihoon moved forward to switch off the kitchen appliances for a moment. At that second, Seungcheol hastily began to name all the cleaning and work he’d done that morning in order to please Jihoon. The way he spoke was agitated and desperate, and barely more than a whisper.

“…s-so, please. I’ll…”

Jihoon blinked slowly, starting to understand why Seungcheol had gotten up to do all those things. “Seungcheol… I am not getting rid of you.” He cupped the man’s face between his own hands. “I am not taking you back, I’m not abandoning you, I’m not leaving you, I’m not kicking you out. You’re not a pet, Seungcheol. You are my boyfriend.”

The ghost of hope in Seungcheol’s eyes almost broke Jihoon. “…really?”

“Yes, really. You don’t have to impress me in the hopes that I’ll keep you. You’re my boyfriend. We’re together now. We work things out together from now on.”

Seungcheol was so awed by that kind of benevolence, he wasn’t sure what to say.

“…but please, tell me what happened last night. Before I go mad.”

Seungcheol gulped. “I- I was scared. And angry. But mostly scared. I was all alone again. You were gone. I wanted to go to Jeonghan. He’d take care of me. B-but then, when I wrote the note, I thought… what if you heard me say not to come back? What if you didn’t come back? I was so scared. So scared you wouldn’t come back for me.” This brought new tears to the hybrid’s eyes, striking his cheeks with little waterfalls that his master gently smoothed away. “I – I don’t know what happened. I panicked. I don’t want to lose you. You’re my everything. You’re so important. I love you so much. Then, it took longer than usual, so I thought you weren’t coming back. I forgot the note. I was scared. I was so scared.”

The broken tone of his voice forced Jihoon to wrap his arms around the upset hybrid, gripping him tightly. “I’m sorry,” he answered gently. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to give you a reason to be scared, baby. I’m here now. It’s okay. Please stop crying.”