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Minho is truly a man of simplicity.
Sure, he might force his ‘owner’ to buy him top-quality wagyu and sashimi like it’s sausage, and yeah, he might’ve just gone on a shopping spree with one of the cards he’d stolen from Chan, but that’s really just Chan’s fault. He’s such a pushover, and by now he should’ve learned how to hide his stuff better.
After that, Minho is truly a simple hybrid.
A man of taste, even.
Good taste, if he does say so himself.
So when the prettiest, fluffiest, most adorable cat-hybrid he’s ever seen walks right up to him and stares for a good minute, he does nothing to dissuade him even as his instincts scream at him to intimidate. He doesn’t hiss, doesn’t glare, doesn’t release harsh pheromones, nada.
Chan would be very proud of him.
No, instead he lets out the calmest, most appealing pheromones he can while softening his voice to a gentle, more playful lilt.
“Well hello there.” He teases.
The cat hybrid startles before blinking rapidly, like he can’t believe that he’d been staring like that.
“Oh! Hi! I’m looking for my owner! Have you seen a human man around yay high and this wide around? He has dark hair and looks kinda mean!” The hybrid asks, make vague gestures that are all too endearing as he tries to explain.
“No kitten, I haven’t seen a mean human around.” Minho coos sympathetically, delighting at the way the hybrid preens ever so slightly at the pet name.
He really hasn’t. Well, to be fair, what he considers to be mean-looking might be a bit skewed. All humans look a bit mean to him, but at the same time he’s not scared of them.
“Well, that depends. Do I look mean?” Minho checks, because again, different standards.
The hybrid gives him a good, long look and a really not so subtle sniff before shaking his head with a cute little, “Nuh-uh. You look super nice!”
Minho can’t help but preen a bit at the compliment. It’s good to know that the work (read: Chan buying him an excess amount of hybrid care products) he puts into grooming himself throughly works (not that he’d ever admit it to Chan).
“Yeah, I haven’t seen anyone particularly mean looking recently.” He hums.
“Oh, okay! Thank you!” The hybrid chirps, sounding bright and cheery as ever, but Minho still catches the way the light leaves his eyes a bit as he slowly loses hope of finding his owner. It makes his instincts want to protect, take, help, even if he’s absolutely revolted at the idea of returning a hybrid to an “owner”.
So what if he has his own?
It’s just for tax benefits, so it doesn’t count.
“Maybe I can help you look?” Minho offers tentatively, smiling softly to try and look a bit friendlier, in case he does truly come off as a scary panther like everyone says.
He personally disagrees, but that’s a story for a different time.
The cat-hybrid perks up instantly, eyes wide and reverent like he’d never been offered a help before. “You’d do that?”
Even though Minho’s internally cooing at just how sweet the kitty is, he still has somewhat of a reputation to uphold. He can’t let anyone catch him lacking, not even this sweetheart.
“Of course! It lets me spend more time with a pretty little kitten like you.” Minho flirts, flicking his tail out to brush against the hybrid in a way that’s considered to be a sign of romantic interest.
At least in his species.
He’d think it’d be the same across all feline hybrids, but who knows.
The hybrid does a double take, pointing at himself and then full on mouthing the word ‘me’ while looking between Minho and his own finger.
Certainly a strange little cat, but Minho likes weird. Likes weird and cute albino cat-hybrids who seem a bit too aloof to be alone in a store. Or the world, for that matter.
“Oh.” The hybrid says eventually, dropping his hands to stare at Minho like he’ll figure things out easier by getting answers directly from the source. “‘M pretty?”
“Of course you are, you’re the prettiest kitten I’ve ever seen.” Minho compliments.
“Oh. Thanks.” The hybrid whispers bashfully.
Minho barely fights back his coo.
“Of course pretty. Tell me more about your owner, so maybe we can find him quicker. Where did you last see him?” Minho asks softly, making sure his tone is much gentler than what he’d use with anyone else.
“Uhh, he told me to get some candy from the candy aisle and to come right back and meet him at the entrance of the store. He said he wouldn’t move but when I went back he was gone.” The hybrid recounts after taking a moment to think.
“Sounds like a douche.” Minho mutters darkly.
“I mean, he’s not that bad!” The hybrid protests. “He only hits me if I talk too much or he’s mad, which isn’t that bad! ‘S why I was surprised I was allowed to get candy, I never get treats ever.”
Oh.
Oh.
What the actual fuck.
Now his instincts are screaming at the top of their lungs for him to take care of this clearly abused, sweetheart of a kitten that no one should ever in their right mind even scream at.
“Kitten.”
Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.
“Yes?” His kitten answers innocently, like he hasn’t just revealed that he’s being actively abused, and if Minho’s newest suspicions are correct, abandoned.
“Why are you looking for this man instead of running to Hybrid Services?” Minho asks, as compassionately and tender as he can muster over his anger.
“What’s that?” His kitten asks softly, head cocked slightly to the side.
There’s no fucking way.
There’s absolutely no way, right? He must’ve heard that wrong.
“What’s what?” He double-checks, because clearly he must’ve misheard that his kitten didn’t even know that there were resources to protect him from this kind of thing.
“Hybrid Services?”
Deep inhale, long exhale.
It takes everything in Minho to not growl or let out some sort of angry pheromones that might scare his kitten.
“…Kitten?”
“Yeah?” His kitten answers meekly, looking up all doe eyed and pure, too pure for this treatment.
“You’re mine now.” Minho states firmly, not even waiting for his kitten’s reaction before pulling him into his arms.
“Oh. Okay.” His kitten agrees, easily enough, which is definitely worrisome.
“I hate how easy it was for you to say yes. You’re not even going to ask any questions?” Minho asks, half in shock and half outraged at how easy it was to claim his kitten.
“Uhm, am I allowed to ask for your name?” His kitten asks timidly, and the phrasing of the question makes Minho’s stomach twist uncontrollably.
Once he gets his kitten all settled in he’ll march down to the office of Hybrid Protection and file as many reports needed to get whoever did this to his kitten punished severely.
“Of course, kitten. My names Minho.”
“Oh. Okay!” His kitten chirps.
“I hate humans.” Minho grumbles, because he does. If it weren’t for them, then his kitten wouldn’t be this complaint or meek.
Or maybe he would be. Who knows?
“C’mon kitten, let’s get you some snacks for the way back.” He beckons softly, already rolling his cart down the aisle with his kitten trapped in front of him.
Tight fit, but they make it work.
“Okay!” His kitten beams.
“Do you say anything that isn’t okay?” Minho groans softly, because how is he supposed to know what his kitten needs or feels if everything is just ‘okay’, but also it’s very worrying how easily he agrees to things.
“Nope!” His kitten chirps again, beaming up at him with eyes the size of saucers.
Minho can feel all his irritation melt away the instant that look is turned upon him.
“Thank god I found you.” Is what he murmurs into the crown of his kittens hair as they walk down the aisle.
Thank god indeed.
And screw humans, while he’s at it.