living in a world with hybrids was definitely unusual at first, but no one was ever bullied for it. people barely blinked now. hybrids were mostly human — just with soft furred ears and a tail that always betrayed whatever they were feeling. scientists figured out hybrids struggled with being alone, so they were raised in groups and eventually put up for adoption, like litters. not stupid, just instinct-heavy. treated more like pets even though they were eighty percent human.

you’d thought about it for a while. you were always good with animals, especially cats, but somehow you ended up choosing a puppy hybrid instead — or, well, an almost fully grown man with the bright blue-eyed, tail-wagging energy of a puppy.

chris. his name fit him too well. he was loyal to the point of being clingy, trailing after you like your shadow. even when you showered, he was at the door, tail thumping and ears pricked at every splash of water. honestly, if you let him, he would be right in there with you. technically, he already had been — that first day, when you had to wash him because he was muddy and terrified of the running water.

chris wasn’t nearly as sweet with guests. your friends — especially any guys — got cold stares and stiff posture. he’d press himself as close to you as physically possible, shoulders tense, tail still but eyes sharp, like he was silently announcing that you were his person.

now it’s been a month or two since you brought him home. you’re lying in bed, half pinned under him, being smothered in the kind of affection only a puppy hybrid could give. chris has one leg thrown over yours, his face tucked against your neck as he licks at your skin in warm, messy strokes. he gives tiny playful nibbles, nothing hard, just testing, like you’re something familiar he wants to hold onto. his fluffy brown tail sways lazily behind him.

“you have to tell me i’m a good boy,” chris says, nodding all proud like he just figured out some big truth of the universe.

“because i am.” the cocky brunette adds, brushing his sharp little canines along your jaw in a teasing way. his fingers wander over you in soft, curious touches — not grabbing, not pushing, just his instinctive need to be close to you, to reassure himself you’re here.