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The first thing Jisung notices is the smell. It's not bad, exactly. Just… metallic. Like pennies. He wrinkles his nose as he wanders into the living room, tail swishing lazily behind him.
“Minho?”
Minho’s sitting on the floor next to the coffee table with one knee pulled up. He looks mildly irritated, like he woke up ten minutes ago and already regrets being alive. His hair’s a mess, and there are thin streaks of red along his hairline.
Jisung stops.
There are antlers on the floor.
Not attached. Just… there. The bases dark and wet.
Jisung stares.
He knows deer hybrids shed their antlers just like regular deer. Obviously. It happens every year. He’s known that forever. He’s just… never actually seen it before. This is the first time it’s happened since they’ve started dating.
“Oh– okay,” Jisung blurts, immediately taking a step back. His squirrel ears flatten and his tail puffs out like a bottlebrush. “I knew that was a thing, but seeing it is– wow. That’s– wow.”
Minho blinks up at him slowly. “Good morning to you too.”
“Why are you so calm? You’re bleeding!” Jisung squeaks, rushing forward again despite himself. His hands hover awkwardly around Minho’s head, like he has no idea where it’s safe to touch. “Your head is– there’s–”
“My head is fine. Lighter, even.” He teases.
“Your antlers are on the floor!”
“Yeah.” Minho rubs the side of his head with the heel of his palm, smearing a little blood. “That’s usually how shedding works.”
Jisung makes a small, horrified noise.
“I know they fall off,” he says weakly. “I just didn’t think it would look like… like… that.” He gestures helplessly at the dark, bloody bases.
Minho glances down at them. “They’re not that bad.”
“They are absolutely that bad.”
As if to prove the point, Minho nudges one with his foot. It tips slightly and leaves a faint red smear on the hardwood.
Jisung makes another distressed sound. “Stop moving them!”
“They’re just antlers.”
“They’re bloody antlers!”
Minho sighs, but he stops.
Jisung edges closer and squints at the wounds where the antlers used to be. The skin there looks raw and pinkish-red, like badly scraped knees. He winces so hard his eyes water.
“Does it hurt?” he asks quietly.
Minho tilts his head a little so Jisung can see better. "Not really,” he says. “Mostly just itches.”
Jisung stares at him. “Mostly?”
“Okay, they’re a little sore.”
“That’s so messed up,” Jisung mutters. “Your body just grows giant bone trees and then drops them like that’s normal.”
“It is normal.”
“It’s terrifying.”
Minho reaches over and flicks one of Jisung’s little ears. “Relax, Jisungie. It's not like I'm dying.”
“I know, but!” Jisung starts to protest but deflates quickly when Minho reaches out for him with his clean hand. "Okay. You're right." He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.
"But we should probably clean it up before the cats come through and get blood all over the place.”
“Yes! Cleaning up. That's what we'll do.” Jisung shoots upright, sounding a little out of it.
There’s a brief pause. Minho rubs the side of his head again.
Jisung immediately grabs his wrist. “Stop touching it!”
“It’s fine.”
“You’re bleeding!”
“Barely.”
“I’m getting you an ice pack.”
Minho watches fondly as he bolts toward the kitchen with frantic squirrel energy. After a moment, he picks up one of the fallen antlers and turns it over in his hands thoughtfully. When Jisung comes back with a small pile of supplies, he stops dead in his tracks.
“You’re holding it.”
“It’s mine.” Minho smiles a little.
Jisung groans, drops everything on the table, and cups Minho’s face in both hands so he can check the spots again.
“It really doesn’t hurt?” he asks, softer this time.
Minho shakes his head. “Promise.”
Jisung leans forward and presses a careful kiss to Minho’s forehead, deliberately avoiding the irritated spots. “Next time,” he mutters, “warn me before your bones fall off.”
“I’ll put it on the calendar,” Minho jokes.
Jisung squints at him. “Not funny.”
Minho just smiles. “Wait until they grow back with velvet. You’ll love that. Until it starts peeling.”
“Until it—” Jisung’s mouth drops open. “Minho.”
“Yeah. Way bloodier than this.”
Jisung stares at him in horror. “Why is that scarier than dating a predator?”
“You’re just a big baby.”
“I am not! I’m just… not great with blood.”
Minho studies him for a second, eyes drifting over the puffed-up tail behind Jisung’s back, the flattened ears, the worried crease between his eyebrows. Then he laughs softly.
“What?” Jisung asks, suspicious.
“You’re cute when you panic.” Minho smirks.
Jisung immediately splutters. “I am not!”
“You are,” Minho says calmly. “All puffed up like that.”
“I am not puffed up!”
Minho reaches out and brushes his hand through the fur of Jisung’s tail. Jisung glares. Minho tilts his head, watching him the way a cat watches its prey.
“…You know,” he says slowly, “I think I understand predators a little better now.”
Jisung narrows his eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?"
Minho leans closer, voice dropping just slightly. “Your eyes get so big when you're scared– it makes me want to bite you.”
Jisung freezes. Cute.
“…That’s not romantic.”
“It’s a little romantic.”
“It sounds like you want to eat me.”
Minho hums thoughtfully. “Maybe just a little.”
Jisung’s eyebrows shoot straight up. “Hyung!”
“I’m just kidding,” Minho says, completely unconvincing.
Jisung stares at him for a long moment, then huffs and presses his forehead carefully against Minho’s. "You’re still getting the ice pack,” he mumbles.
“Okay.”
“And disinfectant.”
“Okay.”
“And I’m throwing those things away.”
Minho snorts. “You’re not throwing away my antlers.”
“Watch me.”
Minho reaches up and hooks a hand behind Jisung’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss before he can keep arguing. When they finally separate, Jisung’s ears have relaxed again, though he’s still muttering under his breath about “stupid bone trees” and “nature being disgusting.”
Minho just smiles and nuzzles his nose lightly against Jisung’s temple.