THE KNOCK THAT CHANGE EVERYTHING [ HEEJAKE FF]

??pov:

The morning sun spilled across the apartment, stretching its fingers into every quiet corner, draping everything in a gentle golden light.

Jake stood in front of the stove, humming softly as he flipped pancakes in the pan. The scent of vanilla batter and sizzling butter filled the kitchen, dancing through the air. It should’ve been a normal morning.

But something was… off.

From the moment Jake had woken up, Heeseung had been glued to him. Like an extra limb. A tiny lion-shaped shadow.

“Papa,” Heeseung mumbled, tugging Jake’s shirt with both hands, “carry.”

Jake blinked, amused. “Didn’t I just carry you out of bed five minutes ago?”

Heeseung didn’t answer. He simply stretched his arms up like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Jake chuckled and lifted the little boy into his arms, balancing him on one hip while trying not to burn breakfast.

“Someone’s extra clingy today, huh?” he muttered fondly, pressing a kiss to the top of Heeseung’s messy hair.

The child didn’t respond. He simply buried his face into Jake’s neck and inhaled deeply. His little fingers curled tightly around the collar of Jake’s shirt.

Jake didn’t think much of it.

After all, Heeseung was just a kid.

Kids liked affection. Kids liked to be close. Kids liked attention from their parents, especially when they felt a little lonely.

Right?

What Jake didn’t know was…

Heeseung wasn’t just a child.

He was a hybrid child.

A lion cub born from blood and instinct, ancient patterns carved deep into his DNA. And even though his body was still small and his mind was still young—nature didn’t care about age. Nature moved when it wanted.

And now?

It was moving.

It had begun this morning with an uncomfortable warmth pooling in Heeseung’s chest. A strange ache in his belly. A tightness behind his ribs. A need he didn’t have a name for.

He didn’t understand it fully. He only knew one thing:

He wanted Jake close.
No, he needed Jake close.

Heeseung clung tighter, his tail coiling around Jake’s wrist like a fuzzy bracelet. He didn’t want to eat. Didn’t want to play. Didn’t want cartoons.

Just Jake.

All Jake.

Jake, confused but gentle, didn’t ask questions. He simply carried the boy through his morning routine one hand brushing teeth, the other holding a hybrid lion cub who wouldn’t let go.

What Jake didn’t realize… was this:

The heat had begun.

Not the kind humans knew.

Not fever or sickness.

But instinct.

A lion cub's first early stage of emotional heat a trigger to bond, to latch, to claim what felt like home.

Jake, innocent and unaware, only smiled as Heeseung pressed another sleepy kiss to his collarbone.

“Guess I’ll be wearing you like a backpack all day, huh?” he laughed.