A/N: Prompt was markjin with catboy!jinyoung

~~

Mark had always been more of a dog person. Not to say he didn’t like cats, he’d just grown up with dogs his entire life. His parents had owned a yellow lab that had guarded him from when he was just a newborn baby, and at seven years old he’d been gifted with his very own puppy, the sweetest golden retriever that had accompanied him through the rest of his childhood. She’d passed away just a few years back, and to this day Mark still missed her comforting presence.

Mark’s own personality, however, did seem to resemble that of a cat much more than a dog’s. He was quiet, valued his independence, and very much enjoyed lazing around at home. But that was also why dogs had been such good companions for him, what with their never wavering loyalty and tendency to drag him outside every once in awhile.

So Mark really didn’t know how he’d arrived at his current situation, sharing his home with a cat hybrid.

To be fair, Mark definitely hadn’t gone out of his way to invite one into his home. No, Jinyoung had simply shown up on his doorstep one rainy night, knocking on the door insistently until Mark had gotten up and answered it, revealing an absolutely soaked through and shivering boy. Except this boy had furry black ears atop his head, and a soggy, drooping tail peeking out from between his legs.

Mark had simply gaped for a few moments, before the boy opened his mouth to speak.

“I’m Jinyoung. Can I come inside?”

Mark had stared at him with his jaw dropped for a few moments longer before wordlessly stepping aside, not having the heart to turn someone away in that state.

And here they were, one year later. Mark was no longer that ignorant dog lover, and had come to learn all too well the various truths about the feline species.

Or maybe, just about Jinyoung.

~~

1. Cats love milk and fish.

Jinyoung debunked this particular myth that very first night they met, and even recalling it now made Mark slightly miffed. When grabbing the soaked hybrid a change of clothes and a towel to dry off with, he couldn’t help but notice the quiet, yet very insistent rumbling of the other’s stomach.

After showing Jinyoung to his bathroom to allow him to shower and change, Mark had taken a quick peek into his fridge. Immediately deeming its contents insufficient, he’d grabbed his umbrella to make a decisive dash to the corner convenience store.

Milk was easy enough to pick up, though fresh fish was a different matter entirely. After debating for a solid few minutes, Mark decided on grabbing a box of frozen fish fillets, figuring it’d be close enough.

Jinyoung had definitely taken his time with his shower, because by the time Mark returned he’d yet to emerge from the bathroom. That gave Mark time to pop the frozen slabs of fish into his microwave oven, while also warming up a small bowl of milk.

Mark hadn’t done any of that in an attempt to gain Jinyoung’s gratitude specifically, but it’d be fair to say he’d been expecting at least some sort of thanks when he placed both items on the dining room table, graciously offering both to the now dry and warm feline.

Instead, Jinyoung’s lips had only curled in slight disgust.

“Geez, just because I’m a cat hybrid doesn’t mean you should stereotype. I’m allergic to seafood, and I hate warm milk.”

With a disdainful flick of his tail, he’d simply walked away from the table, leaving Mark gaping in both shock.

“Do you have regular junk food or anything?”

~~

2. Cats always land on their feet.

Yeah, this was a total bull myth. Mark just wished he didn’t have to learn this in the middle of the night, when Jinyoung had decided it’d be a good idea to sneak into his bed, nearly giving him a heart attack when he woke to someone breathing down his neck and a foreign body reaching towards his own. So, yeah, he freaked out just the slightest bit. Very much within reason, clearly.

In the midst of Mark’s (manly) flailing and (very manly) screaming, the two of them had been sent crashing to the floor in a heap of tangled limbs.

To be more specific, Jinyoung had landed right on top of Mark, his elbow jabbing painfully against his ribs and a sharp hipbone digging into his own. Definitely not on his feet.

It was when Mark felt fur brushing against his calf that he realized the “foreign body” was the contemptuous hybrid that had invited himself into his home two nights ago, now seemingly with no intention of leaving.

When questioned about his motives - because going from his previously haughty attitude to suddenly attempting to snuggle in bed just didn’t seem to add up - Jinyoung didn’t disappoint by twisting his head away as if he was offended by the mere suggestion of him wanting to cuddle with Mark, the ears atop his head twitching to display his irritation.

“Your air conditioning is turned up way too high. I was cold.”

The shameless excuse rendered Mark speechless, so after gaping at the proud hybrid wordlessly for a few seconds, his mind working through various responses (from You could’ve asked me for more blankets! to I can just turn down the AC! to I’m the one who welcomed you, a stranger, into my home goddamnit! You can just leave!!!), he finally chose to snap his mouth shut.

And really, Mark was just too much of a softie because when Jinyoung peered back over at him, proud demeanor softened by a hint of nervousness as he wondered why Mark hadn’t said anything yet, Mark found he really couldn’t say anything harsh back. Especially when Jinyoung shivered slightly the next second, ears shuddering along with his body’s involuntary actions.

So Mark had simply sighed, wincing as he picked his most-likely bruised body off the ground, slipping back into bed before lifting open his covers and looking at Jinyoung with a raised eyebrow.

Jinyoung had looked genuinely shocked, then sheepishly grateful as he accepted the wordless invitation, sidling up next to Mark underneath the blankets.

So yeah, cats definitely didn’t land on their feet all the time.

But Mark also learned they were indeed nice to cuddle with, and waking up to Jinyoung curled up against him wasn’t half-bad at all.

~~

3. Cats are too independent and don’t actually care about you.

This had been the hardest one to figure out. After the whole snuggling-in-bed incident, and the fact that Jinyoung had quite literally moved in with him, it seemed safe to assume that as haughty the feline was, he wasn’t predisposed to being alone. Not to mention the fact that by living here, he was quite literally dependent on Mark for the roof over his head and the meals he consumed every day. (Good thing Mark had a healthy income and no other outlet to spend it, right?)

And yet, this matter couldn’t be settled quite so simply. For example, when Mark had gone looking for him one day in attempt to call him to dinner (one that didn’t include fish, mind you) it’d taken him a good ten minutes to even locate him. In the end, it was a half-open door that lead him to check his walk-in closet.

“Hey Jinyoung, are you in there? Dinner’s ready, if you want to -”

Mark was cut off abruptly when the door was slammed shut in his face, an annoyed go away I’m reading sounding out from behind the solid wood. Not having the energy to deal with the ire of an angry Jinyoung after a long day at work, Mark had retreated, muttering about ungrateful houseguests and good-for-nothing hybrids.

After that, Mark had been careful not to intrude on Jinyoung’s space when he was reading, only to have a similar situation occur for seemingly no reason at all.

He’d gone out clubbing with a couple friends on a Saturday night, returning fairly late but surprisingly sober. He was still incredibly exhausted, however, and had been looking forwards to taking a quick shower and then just collapsing in bed.

But when he tried to open the door to his bedroom, he found it locked.

There was only one person who lived with Mark at this moment, making it incredibly clear who was responsible.

Of course Mark wasn’t going to just take it without a fight, rare anger lighting his blood as he proceeded to pound on the door, demanding that Jinyoung unlock it and let him into his own bedroom.

Mark’s persistence was to be commended, not giving up the pounding for a full ten minutes before Jinyoung had finally caved, unwillingly unlocking the door before escaping out of the room by ducking under Mark’s arm.

Usually, Mark wouldn’t have let him off so easily after pulling such a stunt, but at the time he’d been just too exhausted, forgetting the shower entirely as he simply stripped and fell into bed, cursing Jinyoung under his breath, making promises to kick the damn hybrid out the next day.

But yet again, Jinyoung surprised him, and the result was Mark waking up with to a familiar warmth pressed up against his side, leaving Mark more baffled than ever.

And the list went on. Whenever he’d think he was finally starting to understand him more, Jinyoung, without fail, would manage to turn all of Mark’s ideas upside down.

And yet, with each passing day, Mark knew he was growing unwittingly more fond of the contemptuous cat. He knew it was irrational, because what even was there to like about him? He was unpredictable, unappreciative, unsociable. But Mark’s attachment developed all the same, and with it, an increasing frustration and helplessness because Jinyoung didn’t seem to be following his lead.

But then again, despite being moody as , Jinyoung wasn’t that bad, and had never quite pushed Mark past a point of no return. He was actually pretty helpful, too, in terms of helping out with housework, laundry, and even managed to fix Mark’s rickety bedframe that had been bothering him for ages.

Regardless, it was still quite possible Jinyoung was simply using him for his money, his food, his house. Yet here he still was, developing feelings for the prickly cat, who probably didn’t give a single care beyond Mark’s material worth.

And that was genuinely all Mark had thought of Jinyoung. For once, it seemed, the stereotype was true.

That is, until the whole Jackson-incident happened.

~~

Mark had been doing fine. No, he’d been doing great, he’d put the whole thing behind him and had been absolutely over it. One-hundred percent, he’d been so certain.

And yet, all it had taken was for him to see his ex out and about with his new boyfriend, and he’d completely lost it.

Well, that made it sound rather dramatic, didn’t it? But it wasn’t, it hadn’t ever been, and maybe that’s why Mark hated it so much, because it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal and yet he still couldn’t seem to ever get over it.

He and Jackson had been best friends. They had that cliche sort of friendship, best bros who grew up together, and through the years both branched out and made new friends, belonging to very separate and different friend groups. But the friendship between them had never wavered, had never changed, despite their newfound differences.

That is, until that friendship became something more.

Unsurprisingly, Jackson had been the first to act on these feelings, though Mark had a sneaking suspicion Jackson had learned to put words to their new relationship far later than he had. Still, they made that leap, crossed that line, and for a while everything was heaven-like.

Until Jackson moved on.

There hadn’t really been anything dramatic about it. There had been no cheating, no betrayals, no lies. Jackson had simply met Jaebum one day, and from that point on his romantic love for Mark had slowly diminished, while his budding adoration for Jaebum only grew stronger.

Again, Mark knew before Jackson knew himself what was going on. He noticed the change in how Jackson looked at him, how he acted around him, how he touched him. But he chose to ignore it, pretended it wasn’t happening out of a fool’s hope that it would eventually reverse itself.

Until Jackson finally realized what was going on, and by then it was too late. Because Jackson was Jackson, so honest and open and wore his heart on his sleeve. He’d spilled his feelings to Mark immediately upon his revelation, with so many tears and no filter and what else could Mark have done?

He’d let Jackson go, but that didn’t mean Jackson had released his heart yet.

And because Mark wasn’t capable of simply ending his own feelings, he chose to effectively end their friendship instead. He started to ignore his best friend because it simply hurt too much to be around him. He didn’t hate him, he didn’t think anyone was really capable of hating Jackson, not to mention the fact that he’d never done anything wrong, really. Jackson just fell in love again, and it wasn’t a crime for him to love someone other than himself.

Jackson had been hurt when Mark pushed him away at first, but he understood. So he came to accept it and gave him space, while Mark slowly learned to bottle it all up, to push it all aside. He’d buried himself in work, tried to do anything and everything other than think about Jackson.

Jinyoung coming into his life, in that sense, had been a very welcome distraction. Though uninvited, and prickly, and really not easy to get along with at all, he brought a companionship that Mark had missed for far too long, and without realizing it, he’d begun to think of Jackson less and less.

Until he saw him that night, at the bar, when he’d already had a bit too much to drink. Somehow his eyes had managed to find Jackson in the middle of the dance floor, zeroing in on that head that was tossed back and laughing that favorite laugh of his. Except then Mark’s eyes had traveled to Jaebum’s frame wrapped around Jackson’s, and Mark suddenly couldn’t breathe.

Perhaps it hit him so hard because it’d been unexpected, because he’d nearly forgotten about the pain, after having not touched that part of him for so long. He’d pushed it down so deep, bottled up so tightly without having ever confronting it properly. But now the untreated wounds had been brought back to the surface, leaving Mark reeling and gasping for breath.

He didn’t remember how he managed to get home, only remembering a fearful panic that told him to flee, to run, to get away. And that was exactly what he did, somehow, so that when he finally came to his senses he was back at home, bursting through the door with loud, ragged sobs.

Jinyoung had been curled up on the couch, presumably reading, but Mark’s loud entrance had him on his feet immediately, book dropped to the floor and forgotten as he’d crossed to Mark in a few large strides, ears standing straight up as worry and alarm took over.

Mark remembered being stunned for a few moments, as he’d never before seen so much emotion on Jinyoung’s face. The hybrid always seemed so indifferent, so passive, and when he did display his emotions they tended to be muted, downplayed and subtle. But now that he was standing in front of him with his brow furrowed, eyes wide and pupils blown, it’d shocked him into silence.

But then the next involuntary sob had bubbled up his throat, and the panicked haze took over again.

In hindsight, he could only remember snatches of that night. He remembered crying into Jinyoung’s shirt, nose pressed against his shoulders as he shuddered against him. He remembered Jinyoung’s uncertainty and panic, his worried questions and his own inability to respond. He remembered his back being pat soothingly, his tears being wiped away, he remembered suddering, and then finally, he remembered feeling warm. He’d grown tired, finally calmed, and let himself fall into the warmth.

Mark woke up the next morning extremely hungover, his head pounding, voice hoarse, and throat sore. But he also woke up in a clean pair of pajamas, a familiar source of heat emanating from the body curled up by his side.

But for once, he hadn’t been the first to wake, and was greeted by wide, worried eyes, a brush fur against his cheek.

“Are you…” Jinyoung finally spoke, brow still creased as he raised himself up on his elbows, moving in closer to Mark. His unfinished question hung in the air and so many things raced through Mark’s mind, rendering him momentarily speechless as he attempted to construct a coherent answer.

But then he didn’t have to speak as Jinyoung closed the distance between them, arms pulling him into a hug as his face nuzzled into the juncture between Mark’s shoulder and neck. His breath was hot was it puffed up against his skin and his hold was tight, snug around Mark’s frame.

Mark relaxed, sighing into Jinyoung’s hair as he reciprocated the gesture, arms sliding up and around Jinyoung’s waist.

“I was…worried about you, last night,” Jinyoung finally spoke again, voice almost a whisper but slightly rough around the edges. “You were so, so…”

For someone who read so much, Mark found it almost ironic how much Jinyoung was struggling to come up with words. And yet, it was this exact floundering that gave rise to a warm feeling in his chest that he hadn’t felt in such a long time.

“I’m okay,” Mark said softly, eyes fluttering shut as he focused on the other boy in his arms. “I’m okay, last night was just - OUCH!”

Mark cried out when he felt a sudden, sharp pain in his shoulder, springing away from Jinyoung to rub at it. Jinyoung only glared at him sullenly, baring his teeth.

“Did you just bite me?” Mark asked in disbelief, looking down at his shoulder. He pulled aside the collar of his shirt to reveal faint but undeniably present teeth marks, all sentimentality from before dissipating to leave only incredulity instead. “You seriously bit me!”

Jinyoung was still glaring at him, though now it’d turned more petulant.

“You’re lying. Who comes home a drunk sobbing mess if they’re okay,” he deadpanned, his tail lashing back and forth behind him emphasizing his agitation.

At this, Mark felt a surge of embarrassment, but sought to keep it in check.

“Who just bites people?!”

Jinyoung scowled, lip curling as he lifted himself slightly off the bed, and just as Mark began to feel slightly apprehensive, the feline pounced.

“Oof!”

Mark couldn’t help but release a surprised exclamation as Jinyoung landed on him, pushing him back down onto the bed with his hands on his shoulders, eyes determined. Before Mark could push him off, or ask him what the hell he was doing, he spoke again.

“I bite liars, and you were lying.”

With that, he flashed his fangs, opening his mouth as he leaned down as if to bite Mark again.

“Okay, okay!” Mark flailed, arms coming up to push at Jinyoung’s shoulders in an attempt to stop him. “I’m a liar, I’m a liar! Don’t bite me again geez you crazy cat!”

Jinyoung, thankfully, stopped in his attempts, sitting back upright over Mark’s hips as he stared down at him, eyebrows raised.

“I’m...I’ll be okay,” Mark finally amended, and he meant it this time.

Everything had been so raw the night before because he’d been caught completely off guard, because he’d done his absolute best to avoid reality. He hadn’t wanted to move on, so he’d simply ignored it all.

Last night, however, he was finally forced to face what he should’ve long ago. The pressure had been building up for too long, leaving him in a fearful panic when it was finally let loose with the force of a tidal wave. The wounds, too, had only festered over time, allowing for no escape as he drowned in the painful memories. Though it’d originally been a defense mechanism, avoidance had ultimately lead to the most intense form of reckoning.

But now everything had run its course, and the alcohol had worn off. While he still hurt, perhaps the aftermath of confronting the truth wasn’t as devastating as he thought it’d be. Now, Mark only felt washed up, exhausted of grieving for a love that wasn’t meant to be.

Thinking about Jackson right now, at this moment, being with someone else still sent a pang through him. But he no longer felt the urge to flee, and it no longer made him want to collapse into sobs.

He was ready to be done with agonizing over the past.

So now, he could look into Jinyoung’s eyes confidently, sincerely, and say those words again.

“I’ll be okay.”

Jinyoung examined him for a few moments, eyes narrowing as he attempted to assess the truthfulness to Mark’s words. Eventually, his expression cleared, and Mark knew he’d passed.

But of course, Jinyoung never failed to surprise him.

Expecting him to finally get off him, Jinyoung did the exact opposite instead, collapsing down on Mark in the form of dead-weight and nearly knocked all the breath out of Mark’s lungs in the process. Besides insisting on their nightly cuddles, he’d never been the clingy sort, but “clinging” was probably the only appropriate word to describe what the hybrid was doing at this moment. His face was once again pressed against Mark’s shoulder as the rest of him decided to grab onto Mark like he was a human body pillow, arms and legs wrapping around him to pull him in tightly.

“....Jinyoung?” Mark called out tentatively. He managed to free one hand from Jinyoung’s death grip, reaching up to hesitantly pat his head, unsure if the touch would be unwelcome.

“Don’t do that again. I was worried about you,” was the muffled reply, and Mark shivered slightly from the ticklish sensation of Jinyoung speaking into his shoulder. Jinyoung didn’t remove Mark’s hand from his head, though, so Mark relaxed.

“Mmkay,” Mark hummed back, running his hand through Jinyoung’s hair. When he reached behind his ears however, a sudden rumble erupted from somewhere deep in Jinyoung’s chest.

Mark’s eyes widened, his hand freezing and the sound instantly ceased.

Jinyoung didn’t move, breath still coming out in even huffs against Mark’s skin, so after a few seconds, he resumed the scratching motion.

The low rumbling promptly resumed, and Mark felt a smile creep onto his face.

“Are you... purring?”

Jinyoung’s only response was to dig his canines into Mark’s shoulder again, but lightly this time, and a scratchy tongue immediately swiped over the surface afterwards to soothe it.

Mark’s smile broadened into a grin.

~~

So, to give a conclusive answer to that third and final point.

Was Jinyoung independent? Hell yes, but not all the time.

Did he care about Mark?

Well, if Mark ever said he didn’t, Jinyoung would probably bite him, hard, so you should have your answer.

~~

+1

The thundering outside was ominous, each loud boom rattling the windows and sending tremors through the walls of the house. That didn’t seem to be what was bothering Jinyoung, though. Rather, it was the sudden flashes of lightning, illuminating the room for just a fraction of a second before cutting off abruptly that would make him jump, and then shiver in its aftermath.

By this point Mark had already grown accustomed to this reaction, and simply drew Jinyoung tighter to him. Despite their difference in height, Mark’s arms still easily fit around Jinyoung’s frame, and it was in this spooning position that Mark held Jinyoung tightly, reminding him of his constant presence with his warmth against his back.

“Jinyoungie, can you tell me why now?” Mark asked softly, dropping a light kiss on the back of Jinyoung’s neck. He was asking because he was curious, yes, but more importantly as a means of distraction.

Mark knew Jinyoung wasn’t scared of the thunderstorms, he’d told him as much. After the first time this had happened, Mark had made sure to pay special attention to the weather, and the second time a storm had rolled around he’d dropped everything at work to rush home. When he’d thrown open the door, looking around for Jinyoung worriedly, he’d been greeted by a confused and even disdainful look from the feline, who’d been standing over a boiling pot in the kitchen, cooking. Jinyoung had been perfectly fine, and Mark had thought maybe it had indeed been just a one time thing.

But then the third storm came during the middle of the night again, and Mark learned it wasn’t all thunderstorms that affected Jinyoung, it was thunderstorms at night.

The next morning he’d pressed Jinyoung for answers but the hybrid had refused to explain, only saying he wasn’t fearful of the storms, or the thunder, or even the lightning. His aversion was only due to memories the storms reminded him of. Mark had tried to get more out of him, but to no avail.

But maybe this time, Mark would finally get an answer.

“Jinyoungie?” Mark hummed again. “You can tell me anything, you know that right?”

Jinyoung didn’t respond, the only sound audible being the pounding of the rain against the roof.

After a few minutes of this, Mark began to contemplate changing positions. He knew Jinyoung felt the safest like this, with his face out of view and away from scrutiny but Mark wanted to see his expression, to look into his eyes and see if they could tell him anything more.

Before he could turn Jinyoung over, however, Jinyoung finally spoke. His voice was soft, almost breathy, and just barely audible.

“I had a family. My parents, two older sisters. And it was a stormy night when they… when I lost them. An accident.”

Mark inhaled sharply, and Jinyoung shifted slightly.

“The lightning...it wasn’t a pretty sight.”

With that second sentence, Jinyoung lapsed into silence once more. And again Mark waited, the loud pattering of the rain still a constant in the background.

After a few minutes, it became obvious Jinyoung wasn’t going to elaborate any further, or perhaps just wasn’t ready yet to divulge all the details. Regardless, Mark had a good idea what he meant.

The horrifying sight of your deceased family, illuminated by random flashes of blinding light, casting grotesque shadows upon previously familiar features...if Mark’s suspicions were correct then it was no wonder Jinyoung reacted this way. Just like he’d said, he wasn’t scared of storms, or of lightning. He feared the memories that resurfaced each time.

Mark knew Jinyoung wasn’t weak, and his pridefulness was a trait associated closely with his identity. So as much as Mark wanted to turn him around to see his expression, to gaze into his eyes and tell him it’d be okay, Mark didn’t. He knew Jinyoung hated looking vulnerable, and while he wished Jinyoung would be comfortable showing that side to him, he knew he wasn’t quite ready yet.

So Mark only tightened his arms around him, pulling Jinyoung even closer into his chest, whispering comforting things to distract him from his thoughts.

Wounds took time to heal, Mark knew that well now. There was no need to push too hard.

Time, after all, was something they had plenty of.