Luhan is a show cat. A hybrid bred for the rich, for the ramp, for beauty, for flaunting, for competing. It is the reason he outgrows the typical five feet hybrid height and stands almost six feet tall. It's the reason his features are more defined as compared to the adorable, cherubic ones of the other hybrids. It's the reason he's lean and lanky, with long eye lashes, pink lips, honey colored eyes, hair, ears and tail of the same pretty shade. It's the reason he has long slender fingers and effeminate features.

Luhan was bred to please the eye. A beautiful genetic mix of hybrid and human.

But Luhan is not beautiful.

There's nothing about him that appeals to anyone. Not his body. Not his mind.

Not anymore.

"He has a lame leg," The vet says. Only a blind man wouldn't be able to see that. Luhan's limp is very visible. It keeps him from staying on his feet if he jumps off too tall surfaces. It's stunted his ability to run. "His left ear is deaf," Luhan's only pointed ear twitches on top of his head, the torn one motionless. He's glad the vet didn't add 'Half of it is also missing'. "He's had a lot of untreated injuries. I tried my best to get him all patched up."

They're not injuries. They're scars. Stories. Nightmares. They're a survivors silent screams. They're reminders, tattoos. They're second skin.

The vet doesn't say he's missing patches of skin on his back. Doesn't mention that they're in shapes of bites and scratches. But Luhan suspects the vet tells them all that and more when he ushers Mr. and Mrs. Oh out of the room to talk to them separately.

He scratches the sleeves of his shirt, picking out threads and watching them slowly disentangle from the woven fabric.

Everything stings everywhere. His bitten-off ear, the skin on his back, the marks on his limbs, his pride. Everything hurts. His heart, his head, his arms.

The door opens and he almost expects his old owner to step back in, trimmed pressed suit, crooked smile, mornin' Lu. 

But it's Mrs. Oh.

"Let's go home, sweetheart." She says and she smiles. (Home. The word echoes in his head before it morphs into cage.) She always smells like baked bread, vegetable oil and faint vanilla. Today, the clinic over powers her homely scent, and she smells of medicine, and sickness, and disbelief, and horror, and pity and some detergents.

Luhan almost expects them to drop him back at the shelter. May be even back with his previous owner, again, Lu?

Instead, they take him to a well maintained street which has identical rows of houses with small fences, neat flowerbeds and trimmed trees. It's where he's been living for the past few weeks.

They call it theirs, all of theirs; Luhan's, Mr. Oh's and Mrs. Oh's.

Luhan's gurney is still unpacked though. It's stuffed at the bottom of the cupboard in a small room upstairs. It's Luhan's room, say Mr. and Mrs. Oh, but Luhan knows his stay is only temporary. It always has been. Everywhere.

His room has sunny yellow walls and ugly mustard curtains. The bed has blue sheets and looks like an abandoned little cloud in the room, or a little puddle of water to drown in the desert. There's a study desk on one wall and an empty cupboard on the opposite one.

The door to Luhan's room has no bolts or locks. Not even a door knob. The Oh's pulled them out when Luhan made it clear he would not be stepping into a room with any hint of these things. They never asked, but their gazes told them they knew why he wanted them out. The window in his room looks out into the front yard, giving him a nice angle to climb onto a tree outside. Luhan has a bad leg and no plans of losing the other one either. The tree is more of a nuisance to him.

"Luhan!" Mrs. Oh calls him down every weekend so he can join her when she knits sweaters and scarves for her sons. If it's a weekday then he either has to help her with baking or dusting around the house. Luhan does a ty job of everything, except holding the yarn ball, but Mrs. Oh doesn't mind. Her heart is too big and the activities are mainly to get him to open up. Luhan does not reciprocate the efforts and everything goes to null. "Luhan, come down here!"

He pads down the stairs, pulling up his pajamas (Mr. Oh having bought a size too big, but in his defense, "Luhan is the tallest hybrid I've ever seen!") and scratching his head.

"Yes?" He has no manners. He knows. He doesn't smile when it's polite to, or say his thank you's, or consoles, or follow rules, or plays with kids. Luhan is overall an abomination of a hybrid to have in a house. The Oh's are a lonely old couple and Luhan is a lad with a sad back story and they seem to get on from there. Something about Luhan's name being forwarded for termination might also have played a part here.

"Come quick. Quick! Quick! Quick!" She tosses him a feather duster, ushering him towards the lounge and pointing at the table. "Today we are going to make the house spotless!"

Luhan thinks the house is already pretty spotless. It's a hundred times better then the shelter where roaches crawled out of cracks and mice fell into the tasteless broths. It's a thousand times better than his previous home where he stayed in dark rooms all day and was thrown into barbed cages at night.

"Is someone coming?" But what Luhan really wants to ask is why Mr. Oh never does any house work. All he does is read books either in his study or in the front lawn. That's probably why he smells of wood dust, and old books, and woolen socks. For some time he began to smell of blood too, but that was Luhan's fault. Mr. Oh was too fond of petting and Luhan was not fond of being petted. Mr. Oh was scratched numerous times before he learned of Luhan's annoyance with being touched. Now he keeps Luhan at an arm's length.

"Sehun is coming home tomorrow." She beams. Her smile illuminates the room alongside the sun. Luhan likes her smiles. They're honest, without any hidden intentions and they're not pretty. Humans are ugly creatures and should look it.

"Sehun?" Luhan knows the Oh's have two sons. One married and settled abroad, the other away in college.

"He's coming back for his summer break. I'm so excited! It's been a whole semester since he's been away. Oh! Only a mother can understand a mother's heart!"

Luhan is no mother but he can somewhat understand Mrs. Oh's feelings. The air around her swifts, thrumming with pleasantness and her tongue rambles at a pace he never thought she could manage.

He half heartedly brushes the duster over the furniture, tuning out Mrs. Oh's narrations about Oh Sehun's childhood. He already knows they're not going to get along.

Luhan is roused from his late afternoon nap by the sound of boisterous laughter coming from the kitchen. He stretches his body, flexing his legs in the air and taking up any remaining space on the couch. There's more laughter and it alerts him to an extra presence in the house.

He doesn't have to ponder much over it. Mr. and Mrs. Oh step out into the common room followed by two strangers.

"Oh! He's awake!" One of the stranger's piques up. He approaches Luhan, unmindful of the way he stiffens up and backpedals on the couch. His tail bristles, his eyes narrow and the muscles in his fingers strain to prepare for an attack.

All Luhan sees is a large hand that can damage him, a large frame that can cage him. The face blurs out and only shadows remain. It's not an old body like the Oh's, but a giant, capable one that can overpower him. Press him down.

He later finds out that the stranger was one of Oh Sehun's college friends and is actually one of the sweetest people, only because he doesn't report Luhan. But Luhan has no regrets for sending the man to the nearest clinic for trying to touch him.

Oh Sehun himself turns out to be quite ... different than what Luhan expected. He doesn't properly meet Sehun until dinner time, because everyone is instantly fumbling over his bleeding friend as Luhan makes a beeline for the stairs, hissing threateningly when Mr. Oh tries to approach him.

Needless to mention, dinner is an awkward affair in which Luhan refuses to be a part of the conversation and meet eyes with Sehun. He only nods his head at everything. Mrs. Oh ends up answering all the questions directed towards him from her son.

"Luhan is quite shy." She says. Luhan disagrees. He just doesn't want to make an effort for something that will be taken away from him soon.

While both the Oh's have their own distinct scents that stay around them like invisible fogs, Sehun's natural scent is something that Luhan has to try to detect.

It's there. He knows. But he has to make an effort to pinpoint what exactly the flavours are.

Luhan hovers outside the bathroom as Sehun brushes his teeth while the hybrid tries to figure out what the youngest Oh smells like.

It's not arousal, , blood, sweat or alcohol. These are the first category smells Luhan has associated with men of Sehun's age. He doesn't smell like gasoline, ink, metal, danger or problems.

He's odd. He's like early morning, like freshly cut leaves, dewy grass and wet soil. Something citric as well.

It's odd Luhan has these kind of images when it's particularly late at night. He still makes the effort to stock the data otherwise he'd be prone to attacking Sehun as well. He's sure Mr. and Mrs. Oh can bear him, but he's unsure if they can bear him hurting their son.

"Boo."

Luhan screeches.

He lashes out instinctively. His blunt nails do no damage because the vet had them cut criminally short just earlier in the day, after they had taken Sehun's friend to a clinic. Instead of blood gathering under his nails, he feels his stubby fingers digging into Sehun's cheeks as he drags them down.

Sehun is surprised by the action. His eyes flick to Luhan's alert ears, his narrowed eyes and then to his tail that's whipping about in distress. He takes a step back inside the bathroom.

"Whoa. Calm down, Luhan."

Luhan frowns, resisting the urge to spring forward and pin the male against door, break in his head, but there's no danger here. Yet.

He verily eyes Sehun's shirtless form, the toothbrush still in his hand and the white foam sticking to the corner of his lips. He doesn't miss the way Sehun's eyes skim over the scars on his face and his torn ear.

"Did you want to come in? You'd been waiting for a while."

Luhan startles at the offer. He thinks he was pretty unnoticeable, but maybe it was all the thumping from his bad leg that gave him away. The tip of his tail flicks around, hitting the wall and tapping the back of Luhan's knees, the only sign of his internal turmoil.

He leaves the place just as quietly as he thinks he came. Sure enough, his limping isn't as soundless as he'd initially assumed.

Sehun isn't anything like his parents. Luhan should have realized that the moment he picked the male's scent.

Sehun is rather forward. He wants to know why Luhan sits on the floor, why he sleeps under the bed, why all the locks on his door are missing. He wants to know why he's still unpacked, why he doesn't like chocolate, why he doesn't have any playmates, why, why, why?

He's like an inquisitive child, but rather mellow and soft in his queries. His eyes have a gentle understanding in them that makes him seem as wise as Mr. Oh, and as warm as Mrs. Oh and that's a dangerous combination in a human.

Luhan doesn't know how to feel about that. Should he feel happy that the Oh's didn't tell their son anything about his past? Should he feel happy that Sehun himself never pushes beyond a boundary? Should he be happy about being here in the first place?

He usually whacks away Sehun's hand with his tail every time the male tries to reach out to pet him. The whipping inflicts a lesson that his blunts nails can't anymore. But Sehun remains undeterred.

It also doesn't help that Luhan does not mind Sehun's presence. His scent is an odd amalgamation that neither irritates Luhan's nose, nor bothers the tip of his tongue. Luhan is still trying to pinpoint the exact components he thinks settle on Sehun's skin and ooze out of his pores.

The first time Sehun touches him is when he jumps off the last few steps and stumbles on his landing. Luhan would have smacked his face straight onto the floor if Sehun hadn't caught his elbow and pulled him back up. He doesn't let go then either. He settles his hands around Luhan and helps him straighten up, immediately looking over his face for signs of pain.

"I'm okay," Luhan says, patting his bad leg for emphasis. He pulls away from Sehun's hold to be alone in his personal space again. His mind sighs in relief but his body misses the feeling. He can't remember the last time anyone held him for anything more than a beating.

"Be careful, yea?" Sehun says.

Luhan nods before he scampers off towards the kitchen.

It wasn't so bad, Luhan tells himself later, again and again. Sehun's touch wasn't so bad. There wasn't any malicious intent. There was no smell that made his hair stand, or his head spin or his senses alert. It wasn't so bad.

He doesn't notice that Sehun's hand is hovering close to his face and he's staring right at it. It's when Sehun says, "Hey?" that Luhan snaps out of it.

So that's how it starts. With the little things.

It starts with Sehun standing close to him in the kitchen as he prepares snacks for himself. It starts with Sehun joining him in the lounge when it's Luhan's time to watch T.V, and then Sehun is sitting close him a few days later. It starts with Sehun slowly edging closer and closer until Luhan does not realize his personal bubble is being intruded. His tail doesn't smack away Sehun, and his ears don't bounce to life at the sound of the other's movements close by.

Then they're sitting together with Mrs. Oh as she knits, and helping her as she bakes. Sometimes they share the bathroom to brush their teeth, and Sehun mercifully keeps his clothes on because he's noticed Luhan's discomfort with any degree of ness.

Sehun buys him a book, and though Luhan can't read much, he's immensely touched but gravely confused by the gesture. This is the first time he has been given such a thing. When Sehun buys a book for him again, it's with pictures and has easier vocabulary. The time cleaning and cooking with Mrs. Oh is cut off for Sehun and Luhan to sit outside on the back steps and read the book together. Luhan draws mustaches and scars and stitches on all the cartoons. Sehun snickers at it instead of scolding him for it.

Sometimes he wears Sehun's shirts because he likes the print, and the male is only too willing to let him have them. Mrs. Oh notices but chooses not to comment.

It goes on that way.

They sometimes go out together for ice cream and grocery shopping, Luhan's tail leisurely waving behind him. Sehun drives him to his vet appointments as Luhan nervously pulls at his damaged ear. They tease Mrs. Oh, but it's usually just Sehun because Luhan likes to stand back and laugh at the way mother and son play with each other.

Sehun grows on him.

Luhan does not realize he's given away a space in his heart to someone until it's too late. When Sehun's hand is softly running through his hair, and Luhan's tail is curling gently around his owner's wrist, and his eyes are drooping for his afternoon nap, Luhan thinks, oh . But he really can't care enough at the moment because Sehun's scent is inviting, his hands are gentle and his heart is like the sun and love woven and bound together in his chest.

The first time Luhan actually raises his voice at Sehun is when he sees the male unpacking his things and setting them in his cupboard. The thing is more or less Luhan's library, stocked with all the books Sehun has bought for him, so it infuriates him. It's both enraging and upsetting for him that Sehun is unpacking Luhan's things, because this means Sehun does not know. It means he hasn't noticed the way Mrs. Oh's eyes harden when he gives his time to Luhan instead of his mother, it means he does not know Luhan's time here is limited, just as it has been everywhere.

"This is your home." Sehun says to him as holds down Luhan's wrists to keep him from throwing any more of his clothes to the floor. Sehun only lets go when a honey coloured tail smacks repeatedly at his thighs.

"This is only a motel for me." Luhan says back, words biting and hurtful, even to himself. He's smaller than Sehun, but suddenly it feels like Sehun is shrinking and Luhan is looming over him.

"Where does your heart belong?" Sehun asks with a small frown, but a smaller voice. He's not angry, only disappointed, and his voice rings with the feeling. When Luhan does not answer, Sehun continues, "Your home will be where your heart will want to settle."

Then you must be home, Oh Sehun.

"This is your home." Sehun says, but really, he's begging Luhan to agree with him.

It's in those moments, the brief time that he avoids Sehun, is when he realizes he wants to be here. He wants to stay.

Luhan unpacks his things again, carefully arranging them in the cupboard and being wary of how each article of clothing is like a piece of his heart being bound to this cupboard, this house. That's when Mrs. Oh knocks and enters. It is a tense moment for Luhan, because the woman's eyes flit between the gurney bag and the cupboard, and Luhan does not want to leave, he finally wants this, he's willing to try, and he'll give back, he wants to live, please don't leave me, don't give up on me, you know they'll put me out, I want this, I like this, please, please.

May be she sees something on his face, or in his eyes. May be she sees something inside herself. She only gives him a small smile and turns around and leaves him alone.

Sehun comes in next, without knocking and without warning, and he runs straight for Luhan. The hybrid yelps as he's pulled into a hug. Personal space, please, but he doesn't really mind too much because it's Sehun. His tail coils around Sehun's wrist and his ears lower, and his shoulders sag in relief as he inhales deeply, all of Sehun's scent, and tries to keep his tears in.

A task as simple as taking out his clothes puts such a strain on Luhan, and he keeps having second thoughts about stuffing them back together again. But he feels too drained to do anything except lean back against his bed and stare at the cupboard that's keeping his heart safe behind it's polished wooden doors.

When he goes downstairs everything is the same yet somehow it's different. It's different because this is the first time he's thinking of it as home.

Mr. Oh's glasses are on the coffee table again and he's going to be looking for them in his study because he's so forgetful, so Luhan puts them there. The water in the vase is running out, there are a few dirty dishes in the sink, the mat on the front door is going to trip everyone again, so one by one, Luhan starts looking after the things in this hous- no, in his home.

After a task as titanic as unpacking, he thinks he can manage sitting on the dining table. Everyone is elated when he doesn't sit on the floor and Luhan voices that the chair is pretty comfortable.

The bed still gives him nightmares, even when he shares it with Sehun, but it'll get better, Mrs. Oh says, and so does the vet. Luhan prefers the floor for now. The couch is the only other place he can fall asleep if it's not the floor. At least he's stopped sleeping under the bed, and that's plenty progress, Luhan thinks.

May be what's even more progress, and pretty terrifying at the same time, is how Sehun's fingers skim over his scars, and how they gently rub at the base of his ears. Luhan easily smacks away Sehun's hands if they wander below his jaw, but he's not sure who minds it more, himself or Sehun. He knows he stares at Sehun till mutes on end, breathing in an easy, even rhythm and eyes blinking slowly. He likes him- Sehun. Luhan likes him.

That's probably why he shares with the youth something he's never shared with anyone before. His dreams, his nightmares, his fears. Like the ones where he's back in the underground ring, locked in to fight against a rabid hybrid. Those where he's thrown in for the amusement of humans so they can watch him beaten and broken and be ed over by other stronger hybrids, those made to fight, those bred to kill and bet upon. He whispers about the days when he wakes up with the feeling of hands around his neck or ropes around his body. Nights where he can't fall asleep even if he's curled up against the wall under his bed.

He tells Sehun he's sorry, apologizes, over and over ("No, Luhan, don't." Sehun says to deaf ears), because he likes Sehun, but he can't be a good hybrid because he doesn't know how to be one. He's only known how to survive day in and day out. For the first time, Luhan says, "Thank you", and it's for all the books, all the time he gave Luhan and all the love he's willing to share.

Sehun does not cringe in disgust, or mourn in pity. Luhan knew that and it was the reason he unloaded the weight from his chest, all the good and the bad. May be, perhaps, somehow, there was a very small part that was wary of Sehun's reaction, but Luhan knew Sehun pretty well now, and Sehun would still care for him.

Sehun still does care for him.

Luhan thought nothing would change between them, but it does. The space between them becomes warmer and more comfortable.

Sehun makes it his mission to show Luhan that a touch is a beautiful thing. It is just as beautiful as it is terrifying to Luhan. He's ready to teach Luhan to let the past go. That ghosts can only linger but they can never hurt us unless we chose to let them. He's very patient -with Luhan he has to be- because he wants Luhan to see that things bright and beautiful are for him too, and things sad and ugly might not really be so. He wants Luhan to learn that when you start to see things with your heart, they somehow become more beautiful and meaningful than you can ever imagine them to be.

And to Sehun, Luhan is a star, and the moon, and Venus and every constellation, and Luhan might never know how much Sehun adores him - has adored him since the day he found Luhan sleeping on the living room couch in the afternoon, when he came home for his summer break.

He teaches Luhan that it's alright to hurt, because when you hurt it means you can still feel, and that it's alright to scream, because the louder you go means how deep you are in. It's alright to be afraid and it's alright to want to protect yourself, to save yourself. It's ok, Luhan, it's really ok.

Most important of all, is perhaps when he leans close and whispers, with his warm breath tickling Luhan's cheek, "I'll be here, right here." It's not just a physical promise to be there, it's where he says -without words- that his place inside Luhan's heart is eternal. Luhans thinks, bastard, you think I don't know that, because it's true. Sehun can't be ripped out from there.

Even if they don't hold hands, or cuddle, or kiss, in the most typical ways that people show their affection, they still run strong. When their eyes meet they know how they feel. ing Oh Sehun just kissed me. Oh yes, I did.

The books Sehun buys for him are treasure, the meals they share are memories and every time Sehun's fingers end up in his hair, he might as well be in post coital bliss. (He really does experience it, a few years down the road though, as Sehun pulls their sweaty bodies close and kisses the back of his neck, humming there. For now, Luhan is like a shy school going child, jumping out of Sehun's reach when Mr. or Mrs. Oh show up, and burning red when Sehun tells him he looks good today.)

Everything is alright. It's good.

The day of Sehun's departure lingers close and wow, two months are already gone? It makes Luhan feel a kind of unease he's never felt before, like something embedded itself in his gut and is now wrenching it around. Sehun's not going off to war, and he's not going to die and he'll be back again in a few months but he'll be gone. He's be missing and Luhan will be alone.

"You'll have mom and dad too."

"They're not you." Luhan says resolutely, because sometimes it's ok to be selfish, right? Luhan has always been selfish. It's alright, Luhan, Sehun says.

"I'll call you every chance I get, so I can hear your voice." Sehun says teasingly, but it's a promise. Sehun never tells Luhan that he got him the books in the first place because he liked Luhan's voice, the softness, the brittleness of it. It awed him how a face so battered, a person with a soul and a body so bruised could talk with a voice so laced with honey. He wanted to hear more than just, yes, no, I don't know, don't touch me, leave me alone. The books were going to be a mutual ground for them to talk, discuss, but teaching Luhan to read was perhaps even better.

"Call mom too," Luhan taps the table, "Don't make her feel left out."

The smile Sehun gives him at that moment is very different, but it's still good. Luhan would have tried to figure out what it meant, but because it was honest, and good, and all things nice. Luhan only printed it for memory and moved on without pondering too much over it.

The sun sinking down every day is inevitable, and Sehun leaving for college is too.

Luhan lingers in the doorway as the Oh's chat together outside Sehun's car. His friend is also there, the one that Luhan sent to the clinic. He gives Luhan a grin that splits his face in half, all brilliant white teeth and Luhan recoils a bit from something akin to fear.

Sehun gestures him to come over, but Luhan doesn't want to stand between people who've known each other for ages like a stranger intruding on a private moment. Sehun seems to know with one look what Luhan is thinking. He breaks away from his position and walks over to Luhan.

"No goodbyes?" He asks impishly.

"No." Luhan replies, "Because you will come back again, right?"

"Right." Sehun grins, "Then I'll see you soon."

Luhan nods. There's a small smile on his face and he can't make the effort to stretch it bigger because he doesn't want to be smiling at all actually. Not until Sehun takes his hand and presses his lips to the tips of Luhan fingers.

He's saying things like eat well, sleep well, don't forget this and that, this and that. Luhan can hear white noise and not much else. His fingers still tingle from where Sehun kissed them and everything under his clothes feels feverish. What is this?

"You too, take care." Luhan mumbles.

"Yea, don't forget me, okay?" Sehun scratches his ear affectionately. Luhan shakes his head. I won't even if I try, idiot.

Luhan's room has sunny yellow walls, the same color that's Mrs. Oh's smile and Sehun's heart. There are also plain white curtains that Sehun got him, and Luhan draws on them from colorued markers all the time, for the child that he lost somewhere when he was a kitten. There's a cupboard against one wall, filled with Luhan's clothes (both his own and those that he borrowed from Sehun), but mostly books. The other wall has a study desk that's also stacked with books, papers and stationary.

On weekends Luhan helps Mrs. Oh in her kitchen experiments and knits little things for her newly born grandson. On weekdays he helps with all the chores around the house. Sometimes he also looks after the neighbour's hybrids but mostly he reads. His life is pretty mundane, but it's nice. He enjoys it. He reads the books Sehun recommends him, and sends him, and he also waits.
He waits patiently for Sehun's calls, his letters, and the touch that comes with each thing he sends.

Sehun is coming home the day after tomorrow, and Luhan can hardly sit still because-because he's so much in love, and he's ready to explore this feeling, this life, with one Oh Sehun.