Chapter Text
Chanyeol’s beagle ears twitched at the screech of tires and he leapt back, heart racing, as a black car sped through the intersection he was about to cross.
"Watch it, mutt!" the driver screamed over the blast of his car horn.
Chanyeol took a deep breath to steady himself and ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to smooth it down out of habit. Can’t let one rude driver ruin my day, he thought, his tail swishing in agitation as he tried to shake off the encounter.
The sidewalks were empty as he walked, guitar case slung over one shoulder. The city was just waking up and store shutters were rolling open with sharp clacks. The smell of fresh bread from a nearby bakery made his stomach rumble. Soon, pedestrians began to fill the sidewalks, jostling briefcases and designer bags as they rushed to their offices. A few people side-eyed his messy hair and unkempt clothes, but he ignored them and walked on, guitar case bumping his leg. He hummed softly to himself, a tune that seemed to come from nowhere.
He weaved expertly through the crowd, headed downtown where he busked every morning. It wasn't much, but the coins people tossed in his guitar case kept him fed. And if he sometimes skipped a meal to save up for that little vacant house he dreamed of fixing up, well, that was his choice. Every coin saved brought him one step closer to that dream—a place to truly call home.
He found his usual corner and set up, laying his guitar case open on the ground. He slung the battered acoustic over his shoulder and strummed a few chords.
"Mornin' everyone!" he called out, smiling. Some people returned his smile, while others hurried past, avoiding eye contact.
He started out with an upbeat folk song, husky baritone rising above the traffic. As his fingers danced across the strings, some passersby paused to listen, tossing coins or crumpled bills into his case, but most ignored him, eyes glued to their phones.
"Filthy stray," one man in a suit muttered under his breath. Chanyeol's keen hearing picked it up, but he kept strumming and smiling. The words stung, but he was used to much worse.
An old woman clapped along to Chanyeol’s song and leaned in to drop some coins. “Be careful, dear. Hybrid Control’s been prowling more than usual,” she warned, patting his head softly before shuffling on.
As the song ended, Chanyeol's eyes were drawn to an alleyway across the street. A lithe figure was pressed against the brick wall, half hidden in shadows. Pointed ears swiveled above a messy mop of cinnamon hair. The striking golden eyes of an Abyssinian hybrid locked with Chanyeol's.
He looked quickly away and kept playing, not wanting to scare off the newcomer. He could still feel that intense gaze boring into him, and after a few more songs, he glanced over again. The Abyssinian was still there, studying him with a mix of curiosity and something else. Sadness, maybe, Chanyeol thought. Longing, or wistfulness. His ears twitched as he listened to Chanyeol sing, but when he noticed the beagle looking, he shrank back into the alley’s shadows, fidgeting nervously with the tip of his tail.
Chanyeol finished his set and knelt down to collect his earnings, making a show of focusing on the coins and keeping his back to the alleyway. He didn't want to frighten the skittish hybrid away. Then, guitar case in hand, he headed down the block to a small cafe.
He heard hesitant steps following at a careful distance and thought of the cat-boy's golden eyes as he walked. Something about him tugged at Chanyeol’s heart.
He pushed into the cafe, mouth watering at the smell of the freshly brewed coffee mixing with the scents of warm bread and hints of chocolate and cinnamon. He slid into the long line, eyes scanning the menu board above the counter as he waited his turn, absentmindedly drumming on his guitar case.
"Two small coffees and two breakfast sandwiches, please," Chanyeol told the barista with a friendly wave when it was his turn. She gave him the total and he dug into his pockets, fingers closing around a few crumpled bills and a handful of coins. Counting out a small mound of money on the counter, he met the barista's exasperated gaze.
"Almost got it," Chanyeol assured her, digging for more quarters. People in line behind him sighed impatiently and his stomach twisted with embarrassment. Finally, he pushed the last nickel across the counter, and she handed over a drink holder and a steaming paper bag wafting the delicious scent of eggs and bacon.
His ears drooped self-consciously as he turned to see how the line had grown behind him as he’d scrounged for his money, but tried to hold his head high. He had as much right to be there as anyone, he told himself. But he couldn't help hurrying out of the cafe, hot coffee and food in hand, eager to get away from the judging stares.
He spotted a curly cinnamon tail disappearing into an alley up ahead, and approached slowly, not wanting to spook the cat-hybrid. He peeked around the corner. As expected, the Abyssinian was near the back of the alley, pressed against the wall, golden eyes wide and wary. His gaze followed Chanyeol's every move, body tense, ready to flee.
"Hey there," he called out gently. "I'm Chanyeol. Thought you might be hungry."
He paused and smiled warmly, lifting the coffee and sandwiches in offering. The hybrid's ears pricked forward with interest, worried eyebrows tilting up. Slowly, cautiously, he emerged from the shadows, glancing around as if expecting a trap.
Chanyeol settled down, cross-legged, behind some crates and began laying out the food and drinks on an old pallet. He unwrapped a sandwich and took a big bite, tail swishing happily.
"Here, this one's for you," he said, nudging the second sandwich and coffee towards the other hybrid. The Abyssinian hesitated, then snatched them up, retreating a few steps away.
"What's your name?" Chanyeol asked, keeping his voice soft and trying to project a calm, non-threatening energy.
The Abyssinian didn't respond right away. He sniffed the coffee and sandwiches suspiciously before taking a small bite. His eyes widened in surprise and Chanyeol wondered when his last real meal was.
The cat-hybrid eyed him as he chewed. He swallowed. "...Jongdae," he said after a pause, voice raspy from disuse.
Chanyeol beamed. His tail thumped the cracked pavement of the alleyway. "It's nice to meet you, Jongdae! I like your style."
Jongdae blinked at him, as if surprised by the compliment. His clothes were worn and patched, his hair overgrown and frizzy, but Chanyeol could appreciate the vintage band tee and worn Chucks. He smiled encouragingly, and although the cat hybrid didn't respond, his posture loosened just the slightest.
They ate in silence for a minute, Chanyeol watching Jongdae patiently out of the corner of his eye. He sensed the hybrid starting to relax a bit in his presence, and then the Abyssinian moved cautiously, gaze fixed on Chanyeol, and joined him on the ground next to the makeshift pallet-table.
Jongdae glanced at him shyly through curly cinnamon color bangs. His ears twitched as he took another bite of the sandwich. Chanyeol could tell he was hungry, and probably hadn't eaten properly in days. His clothes hung loosely on his thin frame, unable to conceal the sharp angles of his body. Yet there was a resilience in his eyes that spoke of strength and spirit. Chanyeol sensed that this small alley cat was a fighter.
"So what's your story?" Chanyeol asked after a bit. "If you don't mind me asking. It's just, I know the streets can be tough for us hybrids."
Jongdae fiddled with the wrapper of his sandwich, debating how much to reveal to this friendly stranger.
"My family... moved away a long time ago and left me behind. Couldn't take me with them. Or didn't want to. So I came to the city, thought I'd find work, maybe a place to crash. But no one wants to hire a hybrid, or rent to one either." Bitterness tinged Jongdae's voice.
Chanyeol nodded, ears drooping in sympathy. "I feel you. My family drove me to the city and left me right after the Hybrid Rights Act passed," he sighed. "They thought it was kinder, dropping me here to find work instead of sending me to a rehab home."
Chanyeol jumped as Jongdae’s ears flattened and he let out a low hiss at the mention of rehab homes.
“Rescues, you mean,” he spat.
“You’ve been?”
Jongdae's piercing gaze made Chanyeol feel self-conscious. The streets hadn't been kind to either of them and Chanyeol knew he looked scruffy and unkempt, but the beagle could still tell that he’d had it a lot easier than Jongdae.
“I got caught by the Hybrid patrols my first week in the city and shipped off to one of the worst—SM Rescues. Heard of it?”
Chanyeol shuddered and nodded. Every hybrid in the city feared SM.
“Is it as bad as they say?”
Jongdae didn’t answer, just let out a grumbling mix of a hiss and a yowl, which Chanyeol was pretty sure was a cat swear.
“Anyway," Chanyeol said, changing the subject awkwardly, "I've been on my own too. Did odd jobs, saved up, and bought this."
He patted the guitar case. "Busking feeds me most days."
He shrugged shyly.
"You've got talent though," Jongdae said, nodding to the guitar case. "And a good heart, it seems. Wasting food and money on a mangy alley cat like me."
"You're not mangy," Chanyeol protested. "And everyone deserves kindness. Especially those of us the world tries to grind down."
He sipped his coffee, considering the cat-boy. "What do you say we stick together? I've got a little hideaway, not much, but it's warm and dry. You'd be welcome to it."
Jongdae hesitated, his tail swishing. The offer clearly tempted him.
Chanyeol sensed his reluctance and his ears drooped a little.
"No worries if not. I get it. Just thought I'd offer." He stood and brushed off his pants. "Thanks for sharing a meal with me, Jongdae. See you around, yeah?"
He grabbed his guitar case and turned to go, trying to hide his disappointment. He could feel Jongdae’s eyes watching him. He wanted to turn back, it had felt good to share a meal and conversation with someone, but he wouldn’t push his company on Jongdae. He reached the end of the alley.
"Wait," Jongdae called. Chanyeol paused, glancing back with hopeful eyes. Jongdae searched his face, looking for any hint of deception, and saw only earnest kindness.
"Maybe I could check out your place. Just for tonight."
The beagle's face split into a grin. "Really? Awesome! You're gonna love it. I mean, it's not much, but it's cozy."
He darted back and offered a hand to Jongdae, who hesitated before accepting. Chanyeol tugged him up, smiling, and the two fell into step together, a small smile quirking Jongdae’s lips.
Chanyeol led Jongdae through winding alleys and side streets, the bustle of the city fading behind them. Jongdae glanced around curiously, his sharp eyes noting every detail but stayed close, comforted by Chanyeol's presence.
They passed an old man strumming a worn guitar on a street corner, the bluesy melody echoing off the buildings. Jongdae's ears perked up in interest.
"Do you play?" Chanyeol asked.
Jongdae nodded shyly. "A little. My pops taught me before I was adopted..." He trailed off, looking down.
"We should play together sometime."
Jongdae's eyes lit up at the idea. "I'd love that."
Chanyeol beamed and began singing a popular ballad, tail waving furiously as they walked. After a few lines, a crisp, powerful tenor rose to join Chanyeol's warm baritone. He turned to Jongdae in surprise and the Abyssinian let out a startling peal of laughter, golden eyes scrunched into little crescent moons.
“Dae, your voice!” Chanyeol was shocked. He hadn’t expected such a powerful voice from such a small frame.
Jongdae blinked at the nickname, and smiled even harder, apparently pleased by it. "I used to sing a lot, back in the day. Even took vocal lessons with my human brother.”
Chanyeol laughed happily and slapped his new friend on the back. He resumed singing, Jongdae joining in right away this time. Passersby paused to listen to the unlikely duet - the tall beagle with a guitar slung over his shoulder and the small alley cat bouncing next to him, their voices blending in lovely harmony. A few even tossed coins, which Chanyeol scooped up with a grateful smile and wag.
They sang all the way to the outskirts of the city, to an abandoned building Chanyeol had claimed as his own. As the sun began to set, they climbed the creaky stairs to the second floor. Chanyeol's hideaway was small, but clean. Sketches of designs and pages torn from home renovation magazines adorned the crumbling walls, a plush nest of blankets in the corner made up a makeshift bed, and an old cooler served as Chanyeol's fridge and chair.
"Mi casa es su casa," Chanyeol said, with a nervous twitch of his ears. Jongdae looked around, something loosening in his chest. It wasn't much, but it was more homey than anywhere the stray had slept in a long time.
"Thanks, Yeol," Jongdae murmured, surprising them both with the nickname. Chanyeol just grinned wider.
He dragged the cooler toward them and pulled the creaking lid open, revealing a large half-empty take-out container of kimchi fried rice, which he offered to the Abyssinian. Jongdae glanced apprehensively at the cooler, which had looked suspiciously empty to him when the lid was opened. He didn’t feel right accepting the last of Chanyeol’s food after all the generosity the beagle had shown him today, but Chanyeol refused to take no for an answer, and the savory piquant aroma wafting from the container ended up being too difficult to turn down.
The two talked as they ate, and then Chanyeol insisted on sharing the coins that had been tossed their way as they’d sung on their journey here. Jongdae diligently tried his best to refuse, but the beagle was stubborn.
Safe, warm and dry, with a fuller belly than he’d known in months, sleep dragged at Jongdae’s eyelids and he gave in, too tired to argue any more. He watched with a fond, sleepy smile, as the happy beagle counted the coins into two small piles.
He pushed the last of the coins toward Jongdae with a grin.
The Abyssinian hybrid pocketed them gratefully before collapsing into the nest of blankets, utterly exhausted. Chanyeol plopped down next to him, long limbs sprawling every which way.
Jongdae chuckled softly. "You're like an oversized puppy."
Chanyeol's ears perked up and his tail drummed happily against the floor. "I've been called worse." He rolled onto his side, dragging one of the thicker blankets with him and draping it over Jongdae.
"G'night, Dae," Chanyeol mumbled, already halfway to dreamland. "Sleep tight."
"Night, Yeol," Jongdae whispered back. The last thing he saw before his eyes slipped shut was Chanyeol's dopey smile.
For the first time in a long time, the alley cat felt safe.