Archive of Our Own ^beta

It takes a total of nine minutes to throw the trash outside the apartment building. Jeongguk knows this, he’s been keeping track on how fast he could finish his morning routine to have more time on the way to work. The thing is, like most things in his life essentially, the moment he’s gotten used to something, it’s taken away. The trash chute a few doors away from his apartment is broken and it’s been two weeks. What should take him less than two minutes is now taking more time and more effort. 

Jeongguk isn’t lazy, he likes the morning air before the people start to wake and contribute to the noise of the city. He likes the quick stroll from the lobby to the big trash bin too, appreciates it even. The one factor that bothers him is the smell coming from the piles of black plastic bags that are piled on top of the other. He hates it. 

A good ten months in the city, and he’s only recently able to stomach the stench. From exhausts to burnt buns, the pungent smell of hot oil from food trucks, the spilled drink on the street that’s been stepped on by thousands of people, leftover food in the bin that permeates the air with an awful, foul stench and is somehow permanently always there . His father warned him that people like them have a hard time settling—less emotionally and more physically—because everything is absolutely heightened, and this makes some werewolves steer clear of the city. 

Most of them though—the ones from more recent generations like Jeongguk—take the first chance they get to move to the city. For better education, better pay, better life . So it’s common for them to move around from place to place, slowly adjusting to each one until they settle in satisfaction. 

He tries to brace himself when the lift dings, signalling his arrival in the lobby. It isn’t that bad . He just needs to swing open the lid wide enough to dump his bin bag and shut the damn thing close. Maybe two months ago he would positively retch and feel bile rise in his throat, but it doesn’t take away the mild discomfort of having a blast of pungent air on your face first thing in the morning.

The janitor in the lobby offers him a cheery good morning in which Jeongguk echoes back with a small smile. He never catches his name, and it makes sense as all they do is exchange greetings everyday. The only time Janitor Guy ever spoke more than two words to him was one morning after Jeongguk drank too much soju after work. “You look rough, kid,” he said and before Jeongguk could justify himself, he’s back to humming an unfamiliar song from his plugged headphones. 

It’s only seven in the morning. He likes the momentary quietness in the alley beside the apartment building. It feels like all the noise fails to reach him even when he’s out in the street. A quick glance at the sky tells him that it’s going to be sunny today, probably. He doesn’t really know how to read clouds, his deskmate does though. He makes a mental note to shoot him a text to confirm his assumption after this. 

The wind isn’t too strong, but it's breezy enough to make him shiver in his thin white t-shirt and checkered pajama pants.

“Alright,” he sighs, “it’s just trash.” 

He uses his right hand to swing the lid open, holding his breath as he dumps his bin bag unceremoniously to the rest of the piled up trash. There’s a wet squelch at the impact and it momentarily causes him to lose focus. He shuts the lid back and walks away. Shivering at the thought of all the mixed up leftovers and spoiled food in there. 

Once he makes it back to the lobby, he allows himself to breathe. 

The janitor looks at him quizzically, and Jeongguk doesn’t have the energy to explain himself so he silently salutes him and walks into the elevator. The lingering smell sticks to his shirt and he groans. The people who say taking out trash in the morning is therapeutic are liars. 

He presses his floor number and rests his eyes for a moment. Frankly speaking, he thinks he has done well in suppressing his instincts. The loud, unwelcomed noises don’t faze him any longer and the abundance of different smells doesn’t irritate his nose. He knows his limits back home isn’t the same as it is now, and the lack of other werewolves like him helps to sink everything in without entirely overwhelming him. 

The lift slows to a stop and he quickly walks out as soon as the doors open. He’ll definitely take a shower after this. 

—

Jeongguk ends up sprawling on his couch for the last few minutes, scrolling mindlessly on his phone with his shirt tossed to his laundry basket at the corner. While he still has mild discomfort with the various smells that comes with living in the city, the sounds are something that he could stomach ever since his first arrival in the busy train station. 

It was loud at first-unfiltered noise and endless commotion-a collective buzzing sound that he couldn’t tune down without his noise-cancelling earplugs, a parting gift from his friend back home. He learns day by day to live with it, to immerse himself in the restless energy that surrounds the busy bodies and the rivers of red lights that stretch across the streets like protruding veins.  The buzzing from the fridge, the scratches from the feet dragged across the floor from the neighbor next to his apartment, the faint thud from above him-he thinks it creates a rhythm. It’s how he classifies things now, into a strangely coordinated rhythm or annoying, jarring noises that leave him fidgety like an itch that he can’t reach.

His phone vibrates in his hands, the buzz reaching his ears first before he feels it in his palms. Hoseok’s contact ID pops up on his screen. 

“Hello?” He asks, reaching to grab a pillow to place under his head. Talking with Hoseok could last for hours. 

“I know I just told you that I won’t buy those shoes you said were horrendous, but I went ahead and bought them five seconds ago.” 

Jeongguk sighs into the phone. The shoes weren’t horrendous as Hoseok describes them to be, he likes to dramatize the things Jeongguk says to use against him for laughs sometimes. Green is never in Jeongguk’s list of good colors I would wear on the daily , it’s too bright for his wardrobe. Kudos to Hoseok though, he rocks bright colors and walks around the place like it’s his stage to show off. It’s admirable. 

“Why?” He simply says, playing with the hem of his shirt and contemplating on what he should cook for breakfast. Perhaps he should just order that new burrito wrap that just opened near his office. 

“Well - listen here, it’s not that bad. I tried to edit myself using the shoes and-”

“How the hell did you do that-”

“-and it looks sick dude. Oh I photoshopped the shoes on myself and it worked!” 

“What?” Jeongguk says exasperatedly. 

“I said-”

“No,” he interrupts with a light chuckle. The whole thing seems surreal and yet, so, very, utterly Hoseok to do. The only one who’d go through great lengths just to see if the shoe fits. In all the eccentricities and chaos Hoseok is, he’s a bundle of joy that Jeongguk is glad to befriend and confide in. “It wasn’t a question, really. I was just asking myself if I heard that right.” 

Jeongguk puts Hoseok on speaker. He leans slightly to reach the mug—a welcome gift from one of his neighbors—careful not to spill the water he filled. Hoseok’s voice is muffled by his shirt, and he quickly mutters, “Sorry, I didn’t catch you there.” 

Sitting back up, the phone that was on his lap unceremoniously tumbles down under the couch. Hoseok repeats what he said, something about going the extra mile and I’m sorry you’re boring , and then the impact of his phone’s fall deafens the rest of his sentence.

“Hyung, you’re gonna hate me. But could you repeat that again?” 

His voice is strained as he bends down to take his phone. Assessing the damage, he’s glad it’s just a tiny dent in the top left corner. 

“Yo what the–your wolfie senses aren’t doing you shit, man. Sorry to say.” 

Jeongguk laughed loudly at the remark, which prompted Hoseok to do the same. It isn’t a secret between them, with Hoseok being a werewolf too. 

While Jeongguk grew outside of the city, Hoseok was born into it, right at the heart of Seoul. It took a lot of convincing from Jeongguk’s part to ask Hoseok to help him adjust to the overwhelming jungle this is. 

His parents introduced him to Hoseok, a distant cousin of his whose parents chose to break apart from Boseong, where most of their families and relatives live, even stretching  back to where their great grandparents first reside. The town is small, outside the city and surrounded by hillsides and tea plantations that makes tea an acquired taste for Jeongguk after all those years. It seemed too fragrant at first, but his parents told him to train his sense of smell by identifying layers of aromas that can be found in a simple tea bag. 

At first, Hoseok was wary of him until his arrival. He takes one good look at Jeongguk–who recoils a little bit when he unplugs one of his earphone out to greet Hoseok, shocked by the burst of sounds that undoubtedly jostled his eardrums–and swings his arm over Jeongguk’s shoulder for a side hug, silently oozing calming pheromones to ground Jeongguk. 

“Sorry hyung, you’re the older one between us. More experience and all–pretty much a fossil compared to me, actually.” 

“What kind of crap-“ 

“I’m kidding,” Jeongguk interrupts, mood entirely lifted from the dreadful morning errand he had to endure. “Or am I?” He adds, teasing him. 

Hoseok chuckles, and a slight rustling in the background means his boyfriend is awake. Jeongguk thinks they’re a good match–two alphas that are far different than other alphas he’s met before back home–balancing each other in the bustling city that could slowly strip someone’s sanity if they have no one to ground them. They ground each other well, Yoongi and Hoseok. 

“You’re much too old to be talking like that, but whatever. I gotta go, Gguk. Call you later?” 

“Sure, hyung. I just need to do my laundry in a bit and grab a coffee then… sleep, probably.” He mentally checks if he’s missing anything else. Nodding to himself when he’s got everything done the day before. “That should be it. Gotta love lazy Saturdays.” 

“Treat yourself some cinnamon rolls while you’re at it. Portafilter is the best.” 

Jeongguk’s lip twitches. “How’d you know I’m going there?” 

“Instincts. Bye!” 

And with that, the line goes off. 

—

Jeongguk takes time in the shower. Scrubbing all the dirt and smell that sticks to his skin alongside the thin layer of sweat that forms when he was talking on the phone with Hoseok.

The walls aren’t paper thin, thankfully, so he doesn’t have to be embarrassed to spend more time necessary in the shower. 

Once the familiar scent of coconut invaded his nostrils, he could feel himself settling into his skin much more comfortably. No longer feeling restless from the foreign smell that is unwelcome in the territory. The water pressure from his shower head is good enough for Jeongguk to close his eyes and let out a pleased sigh. Reaching the handles blindly to adjust the temperature. A little more tilt to the right until the water running turns borderline hot. It’ll probably fog the mirrors in a few minutes, but he lets himself enjoy the relaxing sensation that a warm shower brings.

After he’s done, the cold air from outside the shower creates goosebumps on his skin. He shivers a little before quickly drying himself with the towel and changing into comfortable clothes. On days like these, where he can let himself relax, his inner wolf takes more control of him. Instincts that he tunes down during the weekdays are unrestrained in the comfort of his home. 

While his parents told him to lay low, it was a feat for the young alpha to blend in with the crowd. But he’s better now. With the newest addition to his growing collection of earphones, this wireless one is his current baby. 

He plugs both in his ears, grabbing his grey windbreaker to complete his look (and to cover himself as much as he can). The metro shouldn’t be too crazy at this time. Just a few minutes over 11. 

Taking a glance around his apartment once more, he spots a paper lying on his carpet. He quickly reaches down to take it, flipping to the other side to see if he wrote something important on it. When he finds the entire thing devoid of ink, he folds it twice and keeps it in his pocket. Maybe he’ll need it for something on the way.

Checking one last time, he smiles in satisfaction when nothing seems out of place. One time, he was in such a hurry that he failed to notice his window was left open and it started raining while he was at work. It goes without saying that he comes home to half his sofa and carpet drenched, the water soaking to some parts of his wall and drowning the place with a damp smell. Needless to say, he’s learnt his lesson and double checks on his way out everyday. 

The sound of another door closing snaps his attention. He looks to his left to see a girl more than half his age rushing past him to the lift. She jabs the button several times, jittery on her feet. He could smell her anticipation coating the air around her. A faint smell of spiced cinnamon that spikes up every few seconds. Thankfully, it’s a pleasant scent. 

Jeongguk smiles to himself. When the lift dings open, she steps in without a second to delay and flashes Jeongguk a small, shy smile that he returns back. There’s a soft tune inside, one that wasn’t there in the morning. The girl moves her feet to the rhythm of the music, just swaying left and right, her ponytail following her movements. She seems to contain her excitement pretty well. 

They stand there for a moment until Jeongguk realizes that none of them have pressed their floor destination. Chuckling in disbelief, he mutters a low excuse me as he presses GF.

He guesses she might go to the lobby as well, but he asks just in case as he pulls one of his earbuds out.

“Are you going down too?” 

The girl nods. “My grandma is coming to visit us,” she turns to face him better. “She doesn’t go out much, but it’s my birthday so she said she wants to take me somewhere!” 

Ah, so that’s why she’s all excited. Jeongguk briefly wonders whether his siblings back home would react the same way if he visits. It’s been some time since he came back. Perhaps he could take two days of leave plus the weekend and spend time home.

“That’s great.” He offers her a high five, crouching down a little so she wouldn’t have to jump. “Happy birthday...” 

“Minju.” She finishes, flashing him a big grin. “I’m officially twelve years old. I’m almost an adult.” 

Jeongguk raises his eyebrows. “You’ve still got a long way to go though. I wouldn’t even call myself an adult.” 

“If you reverse twelve, it’s twenty one!” She exclaims. “That’s what my mom said this morning. And mom knows best,” she adds. 

Before Jeongguk could respond, the lift makes another ding and opens. Minju waves her hand at him and runs to the lady in front of the building, arms outstretched and ready to embrace the birthday girl. He shakes his head, smiling against his own will at the display of affection. It reminds him of how he would act at home to his parents, nuzzling in their embrace for affection, scenting his mother when things are rough at school and sitting on the stairs of their front yard with his dad, confessing how scared he was to go to the city. 

Jeongguk misses them. While they’re not bound to each other like traditional packs, their scents have intermingled so much that he finds his wolf in distress after their scents slowly go away. He guesses it might be harder for his mom, knowing that she very often expresses her sadness that they’re far away. As much as they would like to visit him, it would be much more difficult for them than it was for Jeongguk to get used to the city. So, he asks them to wait. He’ll come home when there’s short breaks in between hectic weeks at work. 

The earphones are plugged in again, drowning the noises and people’s voices out, making them sound like they’re underwater. It’s a short five minutes walk to the subway station and he’s glad for his casual choice of outfit-a plain black shirt tucked into his light blue jeans with his windbreaker and high top black shoes-simple enough to not attract unnecessary attention and covered enough to not alert any other werewolves (if there are any) of his scent. 

Roar’s I Can’t Handle Change plays in his ears. A part of him still resonates with the song, a favorite of his in the past year. He’s in a state where he doesn’t care much for what life throws at him, but a part of him likes to bask in nostalgia once or twice, just to see how much he’s changed.

He notices the few shops that he passes by everyday-the antique store next to the pet cafe, the coffee shop that doesn’t actually serve coffee (the machine breaks down more often than he could count, it’s why he never buys from there anymore) and a tattoo parlor-he likes to think they’re cameos in his life. Jeongguk sometimes visualizes his life like it’s a big screen picture, or an episode from a tv show about his life. He thinks romanticizing life is a beautiful thing. 

When he’s feeling particularly bored, he goes to talk to Changmin, the tattoo artist from Waverider. He’s the same age as him, with both his sleeves covered up in ink and a tiny ring attached to the side of his lower lip.

Jeongguk has his own sleeve tattooed, in patterns that mean more to him than anyone could ever guess and symbols on his knuckles that remind him of home. But everytime he talks to Changmin, it ends with Changmin trying to convince Jeongguk to pierce his eyebrows-which he isn’t opposed to, but it’ll be a bitch to cover at work. He got a few stares from those older than him in the office every time they glanced at his knuckles, he wouldn’t want to smell any more uncalled resentment from them. 

Someone accidentally bumps into him as he jogs down the stairs, and he pays them no mind. He learns the hard way that no one truly cares if you’re sorry or not. They just want to feel bigger than the rest, someone that’s owed something -be it an apology or attention-he’s grown far past it. Jeongguk just shrugs and continues his walk. There’s a bit of a line before going to the platform. He peeks a bit to see what’s keeping the queue from moving. 

Makes sense. A man’s card isn’t working, and if he strains his ears a bit, he could hear him yell how he just topped up the card yesterday. There’s always those kinds of people who wouldn’t want to be seen like they’re at fault. 

Heaving a sigh, Jeongguk pulls his phone from his pocket to skip the song. The sign says it’ll take 2 minutes for his train to arrive. While scrolling his playlist to queue more songs, he suddenly remembers he wants to text Jimin about the weather. 

to: jimin

hyung

chances of rain??

Jimin’s response comes almost immediately. Dude’s almost always on his phone at work too, but is miraculously at the top of his game. It’s something he frequently applauds. 

from: jimin

no clouds in sight

maybe

perhaps

15%

to: jimin

so... unlikely?

from: jimin

yes.

With that, he feels more at ease for not bringing an umbrella. 

from: jimin

going somewhere?

to: jimin

yeah

gotta grab some coffee

from: jimin

which reminds me 

you still owe me lunch :D

to: jimin

just waiting for you to cash in

sorry for spilling your soup everywhere man

from: jimin

god im just messing w u loll

—

Portafilter is generally crowded, always filled with people or passerbys curious as to why the coffee shop is never empty. It’s one of the newer ones that pops up in the city-not that there was any shortage of coffee shops to begin with. It’s located at the edges of Myeong-dong, featured in TripAdvisor as the newest hidden gem cafes in Seoul worth hunting down. 

He’s grateful that it’s located away from the main street. It’s way too crowded for him to feel relaxed on a Saturday. It’s right in the middle of a merchandise store and a souvenir shop. He could spot some foreign people in the area entering the souvenir store, stopping by the postcard display right in front of the entry and eyeing the different patterns and pictures on the thin papers. He’s never been to the store before, but he knows a kind lady owns it. Sometimes he sees her in front of the store, restocking piles of postcards and stamps, dusting the small table of display with a small ‘ We are open!’ sign placed neatly in front of a mug. 

Jeongguk is a frequent visitor of Portafilter , knowing that Hoseok’s close friend, Seokjin, is one of the owners and head barista. He absolutely loves the ambience of the place when it’s less packed, but he can’t really argue or back out-not when he’s already 5 stations away from his apartment block. The door rings when he pulls it open, alerting the workers inside that there’s a new customer coming in. He tips his head in a little bow when he catches Seokjin’s eyes from behind the counter. 

The man shoots him a smile and an inquiring look, as if he’s asking Jeongguk if he’s here for the usual-a large iced cappuccino with an extra shot and less sugar. He tried it once, as per Seokjin’s request after the elder got bored of serving him the same iced long black after his eighth visit. 

One time, Jeongguk tried to tweak his order by picking an iced americano to which Seokjin groans before explaining that they’re both essentially the same. The only difference is whether the espresso is poured before the water or the opposite. Jeongguk, a little confused and taken aback, simply nods and asks Seokjin to fix him whatever drink he would recommend. 

Seokjin is five years older than him and a couple inches taller. Unlike Hoseok and Yoongi, he’s a human with too much knowledge of werewolves. It isn’t as if they’re an anomaly to the world-not when their existence is widely known and generally accepted-it’s just that when they know, questions arise and with questions come speculations that sometimes are borderline rude.

He co-owns Portafilter with his best friend Namjoon, someone that Jeongguk hasn’t had the chance of meeting yet, but has heard stories (funny ones) of the man from Hoseok. He’s generally there in the cafe when Seokjin isn’t, and by some miraculous chance, Jeongguk always pops by when it’s Seokjin’s shift-not that he’s complaining of course. The guy’s chatty as he is and it’s amusing to see him fumble with orders because he’s too focused on entertaining Jeongguk sitting alone near the counter by the bar. 

He approaches the counter to order, stepping in line behind the queue of six to seven people. Out of respect, he takes his earphones out and keeps it in his pocket for safekeeping. The instant diluted sound of people quickly invades his ears, and if he wasn’t trained, it would take him out of balance. Now, he just takes a deep breath, inhaling the fresh and soothing aroma of coffee beans along with the calming sound of the beans in the grinder. The milk in the jug being frothed to smoothen the texture is exciting to hear. He taps his thumb on the sleeve of his outer, feeling his mood brighten just by the mundane sounds of the cafe. There’s always a certain feeling he gets when he’s here. People’s scents aren’t overbearing, the mixture of different colognes are covered by the thick layer of caffeine that surrounds the place and the music plays low enough to not disrupt conversation but also prominent enough to be discerned among the sea of voices. 

Without him realizing, the queue is quickly moving forward until it’s just him standing in front of the counter. Seokjin holds his hand up to ask for a minute which Jeongguk gives. He’s not in a rush. And based on the lack of distress smell from the people behind him, he’s guessing they don’t mind waiting as well. 

When Seokjin is done re-organizing the order papers, he gives Jeongguk a chirpy, “Hi there, know what to order yet?” 

Jeongguk pretends to skim through the menu written on the big chalkboard on top, squinting his eyes to see if there is any new beverage and pouts a little when it’s all just seasonal non-coffee options.

There’s a new house special— Hojicha Hour Drops— that catches his attention. It was one of the teas that his father liked so much. While his mother prefers the regular matcha or genmaicha for its savory brown rice aroma and lesser caffeine. 

“Yeah - hi,” Jeongguk clears his throat, ready to order his usual one because he admits he enjoys monotonous life choices. “I’ll get the—” 

The sudden scent of distress fills his nostrils. Sharp and laced with urgency, much more distinguished than normal scents and incredibly heightened. It’s the unmistakable smell of an omega, there’s a faint layer of vanilla and lemon underneath the anxious pheromones that he could catch briefly. It comes from outside the cafe, somewhere in the streets amidst the constant flow of people walking back and forth from opposite directions. 

He feels his own wolf instincts triggered, the immediate need to help in any way, to calm those that need to be helped. Jeongguk’s eyes flicker to the clear window, trying to gauge where the werewolf might be, but it proves to be a difficult task when he’s confined in the store. 

Without ordering, he apologizes to Seokjin, promising to return soon before he bolts out of the way and out of the cafe. Leaving behind the familiar comforting smell of freshly brewed coffee and steam that permeates the air, Jeongguk steps outside and takes a deep, steady breath. 

It’s close. Awfully close to him, but he can’t seem to see anyone that shows signs of discomfort in their face. So he forces his instincts to take over, pulling the metaphorical cotton over his wolf’s senses away to let it do its work. 

He’s hit with hundreds of different scents, from people’s excitement and anticipation, to someone’s lingering sadness and lethargy, all piled up in one inhale that has Jeongguk almost coughing. But there’s a distinct one, the fresh scent of lemon that comes from the man right across the street, in front of a big cosmetic store. The man is dressed in a long beige blazer all buttoned up with black pants. His hair is disheveled, Jeongguk sees him running his hands through it, ruffling them multiple times before he sighs and looks up. 

Jeongguk approaches him with tentative steps, trying to calm himself in the presence of another werewolf. Muttering quick apologies to the people he accidentally bumps into, he strides forward to the man. He feels himself focusing on the distressed wolf like a tunnel vision, where no one else can break his focus unless he can make sure that the omega is safe. It’s naturally ingrained in him to be dominant, but he never purposely tries to use his scent to assert any kind of dominance to someone, just once or twice in situations like these. And rather than engulfing another person’s scent, he wills his own to be a grounding presence to calm-even when it’s not exactly an alpha’s forte.

He walks slowly, letting out calming pheromones that he hopes will reach the man. As soon as Jeongguk is in the man’s line of vision, he snaps his head to Jeongguk’s direction, undoubtedly sensing another of their kind in close proximity. 

The man looks much more poised than him, with an air of grace and subtlety surrounding him. His hair is a dark shade of brown, nearing black and wavy at the ends.

Jeongguk stops in front of him, tilting his head to ask if he’s okay without verbally wording his words. It’s a gesture they do in order to avoid overwhelming a wolf with unnecessary added sounds. It’s already a bad thing as it is to be overwhelmed in the center of a busy area, Jeongguk sympathizes with the guy. 

He nods slowly at Jeongguk, the tenseness in his shoulders deflates as he continues to be near Jeongguk. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply. Jeongguk could still feel the anxiety coming off him in waves, and so he steps closer, careful not to touch nor startle him with sudden physical contact, but near enough for Jeongguk to be in his space. He tilts his neck a little bit more so his scent would be more prominent, hopefully calming the guy even more. 

Jeongguk feels himself getting more relieved by the second, sensing the stress that taints the guy’s scent slowly receding until the vanilla and lemon takes a front seat and are the dominant smell Jeongguk identifies when he catches the guy’s scent. 

He gives the man some time to settle down, pocketing his hands and looking around to check whether they’re blocking the way or not. When he confirms that they aren’t a disturbance in any way, he allows himself to fully relax, letting his wolf play his part in tending to the other one in need of an immediate safety net. 

When Jeongguk hears him clear his throat softly, he backs away. 

He gives him a sheepish smile, shy around the edges, but his eyes reveal enough gratitude for Jeongguk to understand the message. It occurs to Jeongguk then, that this is the first time he willingly allows someone other than his family to scent him. 

“You okay?” Jeongguk asks just to be sure. 

The guy confirms, “Yeah I am now , I guess.” He chuckles a little, bringing his hand to cup the back of his own neck and rubbing it slowly. “I got a little overwhelmed with everything and yeah.” 

Jeongguk could relate to him. He couldn’t count with both his hands and toes how many times he was overwhelmed the first few weeks—a spike he calls it. It was the right decision to give himself time to adjust before diving in straight to the professional world—otherwise he’d just end up going home not even two days in. 

He gives the guy a smile, extending his hand to offer a handshake after the intense episode. God knows how much he needs it. 

“I’m Jeon Jeongguk,” he introduces, grinning widely when the guy takes his hand in a firm grasp. 

“Hi Jeongguk.” He shakes his hand, mirroring the pleased grin in Jeongguk’s face. “Thanks for helping me. I haven’t been to the city in ages and I forgot that everything’s just so goddamn loud in here.”

“A personal hell if you ask me,” he adds. 

Jeongguk laughs, agreeing with this person wholeheartedly. The city gets unnecessarily loud at times that it pisses him off too. “I agree,” he sympathizes, still holding on to his hand. He gives it another gentle squeeze. “I haven’t caught your name though.”

“Kim Taehyung.” 

“Taehyung,” he echoes, testing the name on his lips. A beautiful name, fitting for him. 

“Yes, that’s me.” Taehyung’s eyes twinkle with a teasing glint. “Don’t overuse it.” 

“I hope not, Taehyung-ssi.” 

Taehyung waves him off, “Oh please, just call me Taehyung. Or hyung – if you’re younger than me?” 

“Just turned 24.” 

Taehyung visibly brightens. “I’m 25, unfortunately turning 26 this year.” 

“Hyung, then?” Jeongguk asks. He takes a moment to truly look at Taehyung. His eyes are rounded, a little sharp on the edges. Ah, one of his eyes is monolid and the other one a double-lid, making it look bigger. It creates a soft look in his face, balancing the sharp features of his high nose and prominent cupid bow that highlights the shape of his pouting lips. 

His lingering eyes snap to focus when Taehyung replies, “Okay. Thanks again, Jeongguk. I really owe you for that.” 

“Oh no, it’s completely fine hyung. I did what I had to do,” Jeongguk argues. The last thing he wants is Taehyung to feel like he’s indebted to Jeongguk. “I’m sure you’d do the same way if the roles were reversed.” 

Taehyung hums, rubbing his jaw with his thumb. “You have a point. But I would feel horrible if I didn't at least treat you to something.” 

This feels like being caught in a crossroads where his answer would lead to more questions. 

Jeongguk tries again, “You don’t have to-“

“I want to,” Taehyung interrupts, voice final and leaving no room for arguments. “I’ll treat you to lunch?” 

Jeongguk contemplates for a second. It’s too much for Taehyung to buy him lunch. Although he was planning to grab some takeaway jjajangmyeon to eat at home, just a coffee and cinnamon roll would suffice. He doubts Taehyung would force him to order more anyway. 

“I know a place that sells really good cinnamon rolls. I’d like to have that, if you don’t mind?” 

Taehyung claps his hands together. “Not at all! Lead the way, young gentleman.” He dramatically extends his arms and bows.

It makes heat rise to Jeongguk’s cheeks. But before he could reprimand Taehyung for being a complete dork, suddenly Taehyung asks–

“I wanna know what an alpha like you is doing in the city. Don’t get me wrong – nothing wrong with that! Just that it got me thinking...” 

Jeongguk nudges his shoulder to encourage him to continue. 

“Isn’t it harder for you to settle here?” Taehyung asks, concern laced in his words. It makes Jeongguk feel a little happy for having someone he barely knows care about his well-being. 

Even though he’d like to continue talking to Taehyung, he thinks it’s better for them to actually have this conversation (and hopefully many more) somewhere comfortable. 

“Let’s talk more when we’re sitting down. My legs are tired from all the walking,” Jeongguk replies. 

Taehyung chuckles at him, tugging at Jeongguk’s sleeve and starts walking. He lets Taehyung lead the way, although he doubts Taehyung knows where Jeongguk wants to lead them to, but he humors Taehyung for a while. 

“You can stop that now. You’ll get tired if you keep doing that,” Taehyung says, briefly glancing at Jeongguk with an amused smile. 

He realizes that he hasn’t stopped releasing pheromones in large amounts ever since he’s promptly gotten out of Portafilter . 

Once he settles himself, he wiggles his hand out of Taehyung’s grasp and tugs on Taehyung’s sleeve in return. The fabric is a little rough on his fingers, and he wonders whether the blazer is itchy to wear. From what he can gather, he thinks Taehyung is used to dressing well. Maybe the more time he spends with Taehyung could get him inspired to add more colors to his closet. 

He swallows the urge to smile in satisfaction at the small oh from Taehyung’s lips when Jeongguk holds his sleeve. Taehyung follows him silently, no longer feeling any sense of discomfort from what Jeongguk could feel beside him. And he’s pleased that he could at least help someone. 

“Right,” he says. “I tend to go overboard at times. But it helps me to calm down too.” 

“Really?” 

Jeongguk nods, “I’ve had worse stress episodes than you, and there wasn’t really anyone that could help me when I’m alone. I had to sort of… train myself.” 

Brief images of himself shaking in the apartment alone with his mother on the phone plays in his head. It doesn’t feel good to handle things all alone, he admits. But he didn’t really have anyone, and he doesn’t feel comfortable with Hoseok enough to call him out of the blue. 

So on days like that, Jeongguk listens to his mother, imagines the warmth that would envelop him each time his mother helps (it’s a rare occurrence back home, so he was never taught to try the grounding method on himself). Her soothing voice fills his ear like honey, light drizzles of the sweetness that helps to lift the weight from his chest. Then he would slowly release the stress, countering the bad smell of his own panic with calming pheromones. 

It used to take him hours to practice on himself until he did it enough times to build endurance. Then it makes the whole settling down much easier. Now, it feels like all he has to do is concentrate hard enough to plug his wolf senses to reduce everything to a more muted, much more tolerable surrounding.

Alphas generally have a tougher time in the city due to their heightened senses. They’re much more sensitive to changes. The closer they are to places that swarm with noise, the harder it is for them to tone their senses down. Not when the stimulus comes from all sides and they’re forced to feel, feel, feel. 

With betas and omegas, although they have the same problem with their senses, it’s easier to keep them in check. To tune down everything by sheer willpower. It’s harder for alphas due to their nature to discern people’s emotions and their overpowering need to help someone in distress. To put everything in place and ensure that everyone feels comfortable. Pretty hard to control, especially in the city. 

Before Taehyung could further ask, Jeongguk tugs him away from someone on their way out of Portafilter . He tips his head to the person as a silent apology for being in the way. The sudden movement caused Taehyung to stumble, but he quickly recovers on his feet and bows slightly as well. 

“Thanks,” Taehyung says.

“No problem,” Jeongguk replies. He realizes that he’s still holding on to Taehyung’s sleeves. He lets go. “Shall we?” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer. From Taehyung’s expression, it’s obvious that he hasn’t been here. The curiosity that twinkles in his eyes as the floaty scent of fresh brewed coffee engulfs them. Jeongguk hopes he likes the place. 

“It’s less crowded than before,” Jeongguk observes. He silently appreciates the less swarming bodies in the cafe. It’s easier for them to talk too. 

Taehyung walks ahead of him and stops in front of the counter. Jeongguk follows suit, grinning at Seokjin when he realizes Seokjin has been staring at them. Jeongguk approaches him, standing next to Taehyung as he repeats his order from earlier. 

“Hi hyung, can I get the Hojicha latte?” Seokjin nods, inputting his order on the tablet. “With an extra shot?” Jeongguk adds hesitantly. 

Seokjin fixes his best deadpan expression. “That’s really weird, Jeongguk. And I’m saying this objectively.” 

His remark makes Jeongguk frown a little. He doesn’t want to go back to his monotone orders (even though he likes it very much), but he can’t think of anything else when he’s put on the spot. 

Jeongguk’s eyes flicker to the handwritten menu above him again, eyes zero-ing on the cappuccino written in bold letters. He tilts his head a little to see if Taehyung’s ready to order yet, but he’s still focused on mouthing the choices silently with a slight pout as he concentrates. Handsome. Taehyung looks handsome. He tries to tune in to Taehyung’s scent, searching for any hint of discomfort and relaxing when he finds none.

“I’ll just get the usual then,” Jeongguk informs Seokjin. The look Seokjin gives him makes him roll his eyes. He’s too old for these kinds of teasing. 

“What about your friend?” 

Jeongguk reaches to tap Taehyung’s arm. He snaps out of his thoughts, giving Jeongguk and Seokjin a sheepish smile like a child caught daydreaming. 

“Sorry, I was torn between the hojicha special or the hazelnut latte - although I don’t like coffee that much but I really like hazelnut.” 

Seokjin laughs. “I’ll help you with that. Maybe I can give you just a half shot then? So, less coffee and more hazelnut.” 

“You can do that?” Taehyung asks.

“Sure I can,” Seokjin easily replies. “I’m the boss, and Jeongguk’s friends are my friends too.” 

Jeongguk feels warm in his chest. He’s thankful to be surrounded with the best people. There are stories that have been heard from ear to ear back at home, about how the people in Seoul are rude and they won’t give you the time of the day if you can’t give them anything in exchange. Of course, he isn’t immune to meeting people that are just like that or even worse, but he’d rather focus on the small number of people in his tight circle that makes him happy. Makes him safe. 

Maybe Taehyung could be part of his people too. 

“Thank you. I’ll take the hazelnut then - with less coffee and more hazelnut.” 

Taehyung repeats Seokjin with a chuckle. He seems touched that Seokjin has extended his hospitality to himself, and Jeongguk takes delight in knowing that Taehyung is happy, judging by the slight spike of his scent. The vanilla blends well with the coffee, making Jeongguk wonder if he should’ve ordered vanilla latte instead. But he wouldn’t want to burden Seokjin, not when he knows changing orders is an annoying habit. He refuses to be the customer Seokjin usually talks shit about for taking up fifteen minutes to settle on their order.

“Alright. One cap with an extra shot and less sugar, and one special hazelnut latte for the young man.” Seokjin recaps their order. “Anything else?” 

Jeongguk looks at the nice display of pastries next to the counter. There’s a pain au chocolat that makes him salivate, a peach pie, a cinnamon roll for the day’s special sweet treats. He suddenly remembers his initial reason for going here-the cinnamon roll. 

“Oh hyung, cinnamon roll please.” 

“And the pain au chocolat,” Taehyung adds. 

Seokjin nods. They wait for Seokjin to finalize their orders and repeat them to make sure everything is exactly what they want. 

“Just sit down, I’ll have Soobin serve it to you when it’s done.” Seokjin waves them off. He waits for the printer to print the receipt, only to keep it in his pocket. 

Jeongguk scrunches his eyebrows as he looks at Seokjin in bewilderment. “Seokjin-hyung-”

“It’s on the house, kid.” Seokjin simply waves off.

Jeongguk looks behind him to check if there are any queues, breathing a sigh of relief when there isn’t. He doesn’t want to take anyone’s time when he tries to convince Seokjin to let him pay. 

“No, that’s ridiculous! We ordered so much - it’s business hyung, you can’t keep giving me free drinks.”

“Yes I can. It’s my cafe,” Seokjin fires back, lips tugging at the corners because he knows Jeongguk always goes speechless when Seokjin starts to debate. 

“Okay but-”

“Seokjin-ssi,” Taehyung starts, fiddling with the sleeves of his blazer. “I appreciate the gesture a lot. But please let us pay next time.” He bows and flashes Seokjin a wide grin. 

It seems to bring Seokjin satisfaction, as he reaches his hand out for Taehyung to shake. “See, Jeongguk? It’s not hard to accept free food,” Seokjin says while looking at him.

“I like you, what’s your name?” He asks Taehyung. 

“Taehyung.” 

“Nice to meet you, Taehyung. You can call me hyung, it’s fine. I don’t mind if you drop the honorifics too, honestly.” Seokjin looks ahead at the door when it opens. A new batch of customers are here. “Well I’ll leave you guys to it.” 

He squeezes Taehyung’s hand one more time and pats Jeongguk in the back before greeting the people with a warm smile. 

Jeongguk leads them to an empty table, a bit further away from people so nobody would be able to eavesdrop on their conversation. 

He isn’t sure what they’re going to talk about. Hell, all this time he’s been keeping it under wraps, but Taehyung makes him a little nervous. Something about Taehyung draws him in, but he’s starting to speculate that it’s not just Taehyung that makes him intrigued. Just plain old curiosity from his side to get to know Taehyung better. 

True to Seokjin’s words, Soobin the new part-timer serves them their orders a minute later. This is also why Jeongguk likes Portafilter so much. The fast service that never misses. He talked with Soobin once or twice before, just mindlessly chattering to entertain himself, so he says thank you and good job just to be civil. 

“You’ve been here often?” 

Jeongguk looks up from stirring the tall glass idly. He likes to see the thin foam dissolve. It makes the cappuccino’s consistency thicker, nicer on his taste buds and smoother down his throat. 

He nods. “It’s sort of my go-to cafe. I come here in my free time.” His palms are getting cold from holding on to the glass. He detaches his hands and feels the blood rushing to compensate for the lack of warmth. 

“It’s nice here.” Taehyung looks around. He taps the table rhythmically with one hand and the other one to support his head. “It’s lively. But not in an overwhelming way - you get me?”

He does. It’s one of the reasons why he loves it here. 

“So,” Taehyung starts.

“So,” Jeongguk echoes. 

Conversing with strangers isn’t his greatest strength, and he’s thankful that Taehyung is the one steering the direction even though it seems to flow aimlessly—like he’s purposely dodging the topic they both came here to talk about. It’s fine though. Jeongguk has time, and he finds Taehyung’s presence something he could get used to. 

Strangely calming. 

Taehyung laughs. Jeongguk notices how he smiles with his eyes first before it reaches his lips. He doesn’t know what to make of it. 

“So,” he starts again with a hint of amusement. Jeongguk is tempted to repeat the same thing, but if he does, then it won’t go anywhere. “What made you come to Seoul?”

The question isn’t a new one that Jeongguk’s never heard before. Almost everyone that knows he’s from another town asks the same thing. Why did you leave? Isn’t Seoul too noisy for you? How do you handle it? Are you a lone wolf then?

Sometimes it makes him feel alienated, to be bombarded with questions just because he’s a little different, from somewhere different or does different things. He’s made peace with it though, that people are sometimes naturally curious—well most of them—other than the self-righteous pricks that just want to poke fun at him. He doesn’t mind the questions now, especially since it’s Taehyung asking. It’s most probably because Jeongguk’s the only familiar thing he has encountered in the city, and the thought makes him sympathize. 

“Got a job here,” Jeongguk tells him, slurping his coffee to ease the dryness in his throat. “The pay’s good and it’s the perfect time for a change of scenery.” The ice is starting to melt. It creates a thin layer of clear liquid on top of his coffee. He stirs. “It was a bit hard to adjust at first, but my family’s supportive of me and that’s all that matters, honestly.” 

Taehyung gives him a soft look, nodding. “I get it.” 

“And you?” Jeongguk asks, “What brings someone like you to Seoul?” 

He laughs a little, as if he’s been anticipating the question since the beginning of their conversation. The sound makes something in Jeongguk melt. “Same as you. I got relocated from Daegu to the central office here,” he answers, the strands of bangs that have fallen flat against his forehead are caught between his lashes. He brushes them off with his finger. “It stinks in here - no offense.”

“None taken,” Jeongguk grins at him, relating to his last point a little too personally.

“Absolutely stinky. I mean Daegu smells too, but I’m thankfully in the outskirts so less pollution, you know? And the people here are shit too.” A crease appears in between his brows. “It’s only my first day and I’ve got three unpleasant experiences already. I don’t know how I’m gonna survive here if you ask me.” He pauses to take a big gulp of his drink. “If it wasn’t for you,” he sighs loudly, “I would’ve just texted my boss to send me back to Daegu.”

At that, Jeongguk lets out a hearty laugh. Conversation with Taehyung flows nicely, and Jeongguk appreciates the fact that Taehyung isn’t as enigmatic as he seems. Expressive, yes, and honest too. 

“Come on, you’ll get used to it. Next thing you know, you’ll be saying ‘ it’s not bad ’ like I do,” Jeongguk assures him. 

“No,” Taehyung says in a deadpan voice. “I mean, I’ve looked up pictures online and - yes - Seoul is pretty at night but I didn’t know the fumes and the oily smell from hawkers would stick to my skin. It’s disgusting.” 

It honestly is. And it doesn’t necessarily get better after a while, but Jeongguk isn't about to break a young gentleman’s heart like this. 

“You’ll get through it, I promise,” he decides to say. “You just have to… train yourself, I guess? It’s what I did. Also, do the three unpleasant experiences include me?” He asks in a joking manner, although there’s a hint of insecurity laced in his voice. 

Taehyung’s eyes widened before smiling incredulously. “What? Of course not! You’re one of the factors that’s making me consider giving this place a chance.”

For some reason, hearing that chips away Jeongguk’s earlier uncertainty. While he feels confident that Taehyung is comfortable enough with him to have coffee, it doesn’t automatically mean that Taehyung trusts him. 

He tries to think of another reply, but his brain suddenly turns to mush when he notices Seokjin peeking from the counter to take a good look at them. It makes Jeongguk roll his eyes. 

“What? Tired of me already?” 

Jeongguk belatedly realizes that Taehyung might have thought Jeongguk was rolling his eyes at him. He quickly denies it, “Oh sorry, I wasn’t doing it to you. Seokjin was simply being immature behind your back.” 

At that, Taehyung lets out a chuckle as if he finds the entire thing a comedic relief. “Is he feeling protective over you?”

“Even when you’re the big bad wolf?” He adds in an amused tone.

This time, Jeongguk fully intends to direct his eye roll at Taehyung. 

“Haha, very funny,” he says. He wipes the condensation from his glass before it drips down his hands when he holds his drink. “Bet you thought that was the joke of the year.”

“Joke of the century, actually.” 

“That’s a bit of a stretch eh, hyung?” 

There’s a slight blush that dusts his cheeks at the remark, and Jeongguk makes a mental note to himself. Maybe he can cash in on his luck during bad days by teasing him with honorifics. The sudden increase of citrus scent in the air confirms his suspicions. Maybe Taehyung hasn’t met someone younger than him in a long time, or maybe Jeongguk is doing a great job at making him feel flustered.

He raises one of his eyebrows, silently questioning the difference in Taehyung’s scent. 

“I’m happy, Jeongguk-ah. This is the greatest welcome party I’ve had in decades.” Taehyung sighs in contentment, stirring his drink that’s half empty absentmindedly. 

Speaking of which, Jeongguk asks, “Hyung, do you think a glass is half empty or half full?”

“Half empty.” 

“Why not half full?” 

“Because it’s literally half empty.” Taehyung gestures vaguely at his drink, slurping loudly for extra emphasis. “It’ll be half full when you pour something in, but it’s half empty when you’re taking something out of the glass.” 

Jeongguk purses his lips. Although he’d like to think that a half filled glass is--well--half full, the reasoning behind Taehyung’s statement makes him wonder if all this time, he’s been seeing the world in a wrong light. 

He remembers reading it somewhere, that you should ask someone the glass question to figure out what kind of person they are, but the more Jeongguk thinks about Taehyung’s answer, the more he realizes that the answer--like everything else in life--depends on the situation. 

Huh.

Looks like he had his own question fired back at him. 

This time, it’s Taehyung’s turn to steer the direction of their conversation. So far, it’s safe to say that spending time with Taehyung feels easy, almost as if they’ve known each other for years but have only met today. They fill each other’s silences with little anecdotes of their lives, funny episodes that they could relate to with their pack back home, or curious gazes that translate well to the questions asked. 

When Jeongguk asks him of the three instances that soured Taehyung’s mood before Jeongguk found him in the middle of Myeongdong street, Taehyung tried to brush it off at first, deeming it unimportant to discuss. But after a little coaxing, the brown haired man tells him in his usual expressive manner.

One, someone almost spilled their cup of tteokbokki on him right after he arrived at the station (he took the train straight from Daegu with multi-purpose luggage). Two, his t-money card was faulty and it took more than a couple tries for the card reader to identify his access card. Three, sight-seeing turned to a nightmare when he decided to visit one of the most crowded places in the city, namely Myeongdong, in the middle of the day. Thankfully (as he reminds Jeongguk over and over again), a kind gentleman found his sorry ass in the street. And he’s an alpha too.

There’s a glint in Taehyung’s eyes that he could easily identify as teasing when he finishes recalling his three great tragedies . Jeongguk’s been on the receiving end of said look often enough. He puts on his most unimpressed face, getting more indifferent by the second as Taehyung’s smile grows wider. 

“-and this alpha turns out to be a nice person, sociable yet a little quiet. Maybe he’s shy around strangers?” Taehyung looks at Jeongguk through his lashes, “Or maybe I haven’t figured him out just yet.” 

Jeongguk doesn’t mind this. Yes, he may lean a little more on the quiet side around strangers, but he makes an effort to be more engaged with Taehyung—not that anybody has to know that, of course. That little fact is safely folded into a small piece and tucked into his back pocket, safe and sound. 

He clicks his tongue. “Maybe you have to come around and try harder.” 

Taehyung laughs before leaning back to his seat. He swings his drink side to side, tipping his head back to down the rest of it. He’s a sweet tooth. 

“You said you sort of trained yourself right?” 

Jeongguk nods.

“Well, I have this mental image in my head right now.” Taehyung fixes his position on the chair. He leans forward, arms crossed on the table. “A few months younger you,  just forcing yourself to smell the stinkiest thing in your place or the most fragrant thing you have to train like you said.” 

Jeongguk swallows the annoying urge to laugh, coughing to cover the amusement visible on his face. 

“I can assure you that it did not go like that.” 

“Oh really?” Taehyung taunts, the words rolling down his tongue like water. “Then how did it go?” 

He raises his eyebrows slightly. Jeongguk doesn’t think he could get anymore charming, but Taehyung seems to prove all of Jeongguk’s earlier assumptions wrong. If Jeongguk doesn’t know better, he would think Taehyung is being friendly. But he knows—the smooth rise of Taehyung’s scent gives it away—Taehyung is playing a game with him right now. A game that Jeongguk knew well back in his youth. He doesn’t expect to encounter someone that makes him feel giddy like this. 

So, he does what any sane person would do in front of someone like Taehyung—

“What if I show you instead?” 

Jeongguk makes his move. And now it’s his turn. 

Taehyung smiles. 

—

Over the next few days, Jeongguk’s phone is bombarded with messages—necessary and unimportant ones—from the same contact ID. 

He doesn’t mind it of course. He replies to each bubble with the same enthusiasm as Taehyung does in sending them, updating Jeongguk on what he ate for breakfast and rating the numerous noodle places he went to with an absurd amount of decimals. 

It goes something like: 

from: Noodle Lover

This restaurant has pho.

But the fried chicken place next door disrupted my noodle hunt zen.

6.4/10

to: Noodle Lover

what’s the 0.4 for

from: Noodle Lover

I’m being lenient

That’s brownie points

to: Noodle Lover

i see

did it taste good though?

from: Noodle Lover

Everything just tastes bland to me

I haven’t found one that has that

UMPH

Flavor, you know?

to: Noodle Lover

i don’t really know

not a noodle connoisseur

but i know this place, i’ll take you there sometime

from: Noodle Lover

Is it a date

to: Noodle Lover

no, it’s training

you’ll get a date after you reach level 10 companionship

from: Noodle Lover

Boo

And while Taehyung’s texts make something warm settle in Jeongguk’s stomach, he blames it on the elation of having a new friend with similar interests.

He finds out that Taehyung watches the same shows as him (not that it counts entirely, as Taehyung quite literally watches almost everything Netflix has to offer—from underrated ones to four seasons of cringe-fest tv shows) and that their music tastes are somewhat in sync as well. 

Yes, Taehyung has gone through the emo phase as well, with a playlist dedicated to his pop punk days still on repeat deep in his spotify. Jeongguk finds the fact endearing, how Taehyung doesn’t give a damn about what anyone thinks. He’s an open book with many secrets too. And Jeongguk is slowly finding the hidden chapters intriguing. 

He’s a bit more daring in texts, hiding behind a braver persona and a more straightforward approach because he’s got nothing to lose. While things can get lost in messages—joking tones and periods of awkwardness—and don't translate well through the phone screen, Jeongguk tries his best to keep the things he says light heartedly, leaving the serious ones through voice messages or calls. 

They don’t call often yet , but at the rate where Jeongguk is slowly growing more comfortable with Taehyung, it takes less coaxing and just a subtle shift of mood for Jeongguk to lend an ear. Most of the time, he doesn’t wait for an answer. He just waits until Taehyung’s caller ID fills his entire screen—that’s a yes. 

Although he doesn’t know for sure where they stand, Jeongguk wants to find out where this could go. He hasn’t told anyone about Taehyung yet—except Seokjin, but that’s a given--not because he wants to keep his new friend hidden from his close circle, no, but more so because it’ll overwhelm Taehyung to be bombarded with a lot of new people and new scents. 

He’s currently in the office, startled at the sudden vibration near his keyboard. He’s been too focused on moving the data from the sheets to the deck and translating the numbers to insights. The noise snaps him out of his working mode and he quickly checks at the incoming notifications. A few from Hoseok and newer ones from Taehyung. 

Hoseok is asking to meet up tonight, claiming that Jeongguk hasn’t been spending time outside work . He doesn’t really want to be called a hermit crab again, so he types in a thumbs up and leaves the chatroom. He scrolls to the top to see Taehyung’s contact ID in bold letters, and new messages keep popping up. Is Taehyung on a break? 

A glance at the clock on top of his screen shows that it’s lunch break. 

Ah, he thinks, makes sense . Jimin taps his shoulder just then. “Did you bring anything for lunch? I’m heading to the cafeteria.” 

Jeongguk blinks, trying to remember if he packed himself lunch today or not. When he checks inside his bag to see, his shoulders slump. The cafeteria serves really good food, but all the smell and noise packed into one place makes him internally groan.

It isn’t like him to forget to pack himself lunch. Just a scoop of rice, a few slices of beef galbi and a spoonful of kimchi would suffice, but his head’s above the clouds the moment he woke up. Blinking blearily at the half-opened curtains painting the room with a harsh light. It took him a few breaths to realize that he slept through his alarm and then his entire routine turned more disheveled than his bed hair. 

He shrugs it off. It’s just a silly mistake, no use in dwelling on it. 

“I’ll come with you.” Jeongguk says defeatedly. He’s vocal about his lack of interest in mingling with the rest of his co-workers in the cafeteria. 

Jimin knows it’s different in any other setting. Jeongguk just doesn’t see the need to butter up with so many people at once when he already has the few people he trusts—Jimin included. 

The lift is empty except for them both. It’s another one of those small victories Jeongguk keeps tallied in his mind. A bad start doesn’t mean his entire day will be predicted as such. 

He befriends Jimin in his second week of work. At first he was hesitant because his deskmate seemed uninterested in getting all buddy up with the newbie. But after a few business days, Jeongguk decides he’s a good guy. His moods are dependent on the weather though—a little strange to him—as Jimin learns to see the signs of rain just by a glance at the sky. 

When Jeongguk asks him how he does that, he just shrugs. Giving him a it’s easy for me but complicated for you to understand . He decides to just nod and continue to be pleasantly surprised whenever Jimin comes to the office prepared with a raincoat. 

“You’re a bit strange, you know that?” 

Jeongguk snaps his head to Jimin’s direction, silently raising his eyebrow in question to the unwelcomed remark. 

“Right back at you intern.” Jeongguk retorts. His phone still buzzes in his pocket periodically, cueing the incoming texts from one contact he knows well enough by now. 

“What the fuck—that was one time.” 

Jeongguk snickers. Although it’s true that it’s just a one time occurrence, it’s something he’ll never let Jimin live down. 

“Not my fault you’re short enough to look like one.” He laughs heartily, making Jimin scowl a little. It makes for a funny story, really. 

Their new head department came in early, introduced himself to the team and went inside his office. Coincidentally, Jimin came in late that day and wasn’t introduced properly to their new leader. Hence the minor (major) misunderstanding when he asked Jimin the assumed intern to bring him coffee and three prints of their proposal deck. 

Tough day for Jimin. 

“You’re a shit friend,” Jimin smacks his arm with the rolled up report he has on his hands. Once, and then another one for final measure. “Absolutely shit. I don’t know how your boyfriend keeps up with you.” 

At that, Jeongguk looks at him in confusion. “Boyfriend?” 

Just then, the lift dings and they quickly step out to make way for the people that are stepping in. 

The chatter of people fills up the room instantly. It makes a small part of Jeongguk recoil, but he’s trained enough to keep a straight face, focusing instead on Jimin’s questioning gaze. 

“You seriously think I wouldn’t notice?” He asks, guiding them to the queue. 

Jeongguk once again fixes him with a lost look. 

Jimin sighs, running his fingers through his neatly combed hair. “You’re on your phone as soon as you get a break. And that smile you have-“

“You sound like my mother.” Jeongguk interrupts.

With that, Jimin rolls his eyes as the line moves forward. Muttering a small whatever you say under his breath. But Jeongguk hears him loud and clear. 

And if his ears are tinted pink at the tips, nobody has to know. 

He silently agrees with Jimin inside. Although it’s unusual for him to act this way—and unlocking his phone to answer Taehyung’s texts only proves Jimin’s assumption—he finds himself not minding this progression a single bit. 

Jeongguk takes a few seconds to read the unread messages from Taehyung, snickering at some of them as he sees Taehyung answering his own questions.

from: Noodle Lover 

Yeah it’s my lunch break

It’s yours too right?

I need to eat something 

Something new

Fresh

Something a city man would eat

…I’m getting a salad wrap

to: Noodle Lover 

i don’t know how much that would score 

in the city man’s choice of lunch scale

but i’m guessing it’ll land somewhere between 5-6.5

from: Noodle Lover 

Not even a solid 7?

to: Noodle Lover

no

from: Noodle Lover 

:( 

That’s mean.

I’m gonna have to ask you to cash in on that noodle promise tonight for that ‘no’

The line moves forward. It’s their turn to order and Jimin’s already choosing one of each menu like it’s an all you can eat buffet. Jeongguk doesn’t blame him either though—the food they serve is delicious. He tells Jimin what he wants—a bowl of jajangmyeon with kimchi and a shared portion of tangsuyuk—before shifting his attention back to the phone screen.

The thing with texting Taehyung is that it feels natural . It’s like talking to someone you’ve known for a long time, and most noticeably, Jeongguk feels comfortable . Granted, it doesn’t take much effort for Jeongguk to warm up with people, but he needs his time to sit, talk and understand even the kindest stranger to feel safe with them. 

It doesn’t take much with Taehyung. Not at all.

He knows what to call the traitorous feeling in his heart—it has a name, but he’s not ready to verbalize it yet. Not now and not anytime soon.

The blank space stares at him mockingly. Taehyung means well, obviously. He wants to hang out with a new friend in the city and hopefully try good noodles. But the selfish part of Jeongguk prefers to see it as a chance to spend time with Taehyung. Perhaps in a slightly different setting. 

Before his thoughts could take him somewhere he’s not supposed to, he remembers Hoseok’s proposition to grab dinner tonight alongside Yoongi. It wouldn’t hurt to bring someone with him right? 

to: Noodle Lover

interesting proposition

but i have a much more interesting one

from: Noodle Lover 

Oh?

Do tell

Jeongguk couldn’t quite pinpoint if Taehyung’s reaction is a genuine surprise or something else entirely, but he trusts his gut feeling on this.

to: Noodle Lover 

good chicken and beer (or soju) 

with good company

from: Noodle Lover

You mean yourself?

to: Noodle Lover

i meant my other two friends

they’re an alpha couple

from: Noodle Lover 

Sold!

Jeongguk smiles. Of course he’s sold. Maybe if Taehyung was here, Jeongguk could make out the prominent scent of vanilla. But now, he’s surrounded with steam from hot soup, half-burnt beef and a hot bowl of dipping sauce with lemon. He groans. He could feel his sinuses getting clogged by the minute. 

—

Once he clocks out and steps out of the building, his steps feel lighter. He gave Hoseok a heads up that Taehyung would be coming and he’s met with a series of emojis that would most probably mean Hoseok doesn’t mind. And that he’s excited. 

Jeongguk checks the time—8:35, he still has a good two hours to relax sometime at home after his shower. The sky is dark already, but the lights from the towers and LED screens make it seem that the city never sleeps. It gives Jeongguk the impression that Seoul only truly comes alive at night—where the booze is limitless and entertainment is free. Even though he rarely joins the nightlife, the bustling sound after hours makes him miss home. 

The lush mountains and seaside villages, the quiet hum of the air with the occasional rowdy noises that’s easily contained with one glare from a senior citizen. Although it’s mostly cold, Jeongguk takes great delight in making use of his body heat by doing the laundry manually on most days. The only thing that makes him feel monotone is the fog that seems to settle in the county for all seasons—even thicker during winter. 

Frankly, nighttime makes Jeongguk miss home. Yes, it’s ultimately his decision to leave and he couldn’t reject a good job and housing offer in Seoul, but deep inside, he’s still the kid that secretly steals his father’s green tea leaves to study them in his room. The room he’s in right now is decorated similarly to his room back in Boseong. He took a picture of it once, sent it to the family group chat and laughed along with his father at his mother’s rows of sad emojis. 

Jeongguk plugs one of his earphones, slowing down his steps when he sees the familiar metro sign. He jogs all the way down the stairs to the station, scrunching his nose at the slight damp smell that comes from being underground. It’s a little past the rush hour which makes the platform less packed than usual. Another small victory added to the list.

It’s just that, he suddenly feels sensitive—like the usual dampened senses are going haywire. He tries to calm his breathing down as he closes his eyes but nothing seems out of the ordinary. Except that his wolf is looking for something. Actively seeking out and unconsciously making Jeongguk feel so much more than usual. It’s agitated . 

Maybe his disheveled state in the morning should’ve been a clue that will eventually add up to this . He doesn’t want to cancel his plans with them, but he desperately needs a moment of reprieve to relieve himself.

Maybe going to the cafeteria was a bad decision after all—it did leave him feeling out of it; like his mind is somewhere his body isn’t, and the suspended feeling causes him to exert more effort in doing his job to not hinder any tasks longer than necessary

Once he reaches his apartment building, he moves his shoulders in circles to relieve the ache in his muscles from carrying his work bag for the last half an hour. His dress pants are clinging tighter to his legs due to the sweat and he makes it up to his floor with a slight pant from all the speed walking. 

He checks the time again just to be sure and then his phone to see whether there are any notifications from his friends, sighing in relief when there’s none. Just a good fifteen minutes for himself and then he’ll be okay. 

The entire walk from the station to his apartment left him feeling overwhelmed. All of a sudden, everything feels too much and the slightest of movements causes his nerves to tense. 

Jeongguk is in dire need of some peace and quiet, free from all the grease and deafening clutters that water his eyes. 

There’s a muted pounding in the right side of his head, making itself known by the minute as it bangs against his skull and echoes around. 

He remembers his mother’s attempts to help him with his spike on the phone in the first few weeks of being here, soft hums and gentle assurances that it’ll pass. His wolf instincts are being triggered with the change. It’s having a moment. It’s not a relapse, Jeongguk-ah. A relapse means something bad. This is normal for you—for us. It comes and goes, son.

It makes everything feel shifted. Dare he say, unfair—for the world to feel okay when people like him take everything in them to blend in. It’s a thought he doesn’t like to indulge himself in, but like this thing he’s going through right now, it comes and goes. 

Jeongguk doesn’t hate the world—he’s passed that phase in his life already. 

In vulnerable moments like this, it makes Jeongguk realize how easy it would be to have someone with him. It makes him dare to crave the scent of another that would give him the dose of calmness that he needs to grasp. To reach out. To bury his nose in the crook of another person’s neck and just breathe. 

It’s what his mom lets him do back home. Tentative fingers treading through his hair as she lets her calming scent soothe her son’s rough edges until the strained muscles don't feel like a pent up and tight string. Until it just leaves him sore and tired, in need of a shower and preferably a short nap to gain back the energy he’s lost. 

But his mom isn’t here to help him today. So, he counts to ten. Three times. Each countdown takes more effort than the last, until he grits his jaw to slowly let his pheromones fill the room and seep into the air. Urging himself to calm down. Calm down .

It comes and goes, Jeongguk-ah.

He’s panting and a trail of sweat drips down from his hairline down his jaw. Briefly, he wonders again what it would feel  like to be comforted instead of exerting his senses to bring his random spikes down. It’s times like these that he lets his guard down and feels alone. 

In his mind, he’s smoothing down a curled leaf in his hands, cradling the fragile thing in between his fingertips. He’s surrounded by rows and rows of fresh shrubs. There’s a slight drizzle that damps his shirt and tunes down his hearing. It reaches deep to his eardrums and creates a rhythm that he doesn’t mind listening to. It smells awfully moist, with a faintly sweet scent of leaves. 

The image calms his racing heart little by little. Until his wolf doesn’t seem as agitated as before—until the hot edges in his fingertips cease to burn. 

Jeongguk takes a deep breath, letting the exhale take all his shortcomings out of his system. Letting his head cool off as he settles on the couch, he continues to regulate his breathing while slowly controlling the flow of his pheromones that excessively fill the room with a scent unmistakably his. 

He doesn’t complain a lot—it’s not in his behavior to dwell on things that can’t be changed, but it does make him wish that settling down completely would be easier on his body. He thought he had adapted to Seoul. It’s been months since his last spike, which shows how much he’s gotten used to the city. 

But he feels much more restless these days. Like his wolf continuously throws tantrums when it’s attempts are unsuccessful. It’s why his senses tingle with each miniscule movement. 

It takes Jeongguk five steps to go to the bathroom and turn on his cold shower. And even when he’s calmed down already, his mind is reeling with assumptions and hypotheses to answer his growing list of questions. 

Briefly, he wonders if it has anything to do with the arrival of a certain omega that has made his place in Jeongguk’s life unexpectedly. 

Shaking his head, he glances at the clock on the wall before he heads to the shower. He’s going to be late. 

—

The first thing that he registers is Taehyung using a green sweater. He sticks out like a sore thumb among the people in the restaurant. Initially, they were torn between the usual bbq place or a chimaek joint in Sinsa. They settle for chimaek in the end after Taehyung claims that he’s never tried one. 

Jeongguk created a group chat after he was done cleaning up, letting Hoseok and Taehyung know respectively before lumping the three of them together in one room. And as expected, the both of them bonded almost instantly in text (and from what Jeongguk sees, in real life too). He approaches their table on the second floor, where they could see Hongdae from the window.

Hoseok and Yoongi are sitting across Taehyung and there’s a vacant seat that undoubtedly has his name on it next to Taehyung. He flashes them a grin, muttering his apologies for being late. Yoongi mumbles something about being punctual which causes Jeongguk to chuckle.

“As if Hoseok-hyung doesn’t drag you everywhere.” Jeongguk shoots back, eyes skimming the one page menu to see the best-seller choices. “You’re more terrible than I am, hyung.”

He hears Hoseok laugh loudly, patting Yoongi in the back as Yoongi grumbles some more. Taehyung chuckles a little next to him. If Jeongguk focuses a little more, he could make out Taehyung’s vanilla and citrusy scent under the greasy smell of fried chicken. He pays Hoseok and Yoongi no mind, as they continue to share a menu and try to come to a mutual agreement. 

Taehyung sits idly next to him, smiling every so often when Jeongguk asks him if a menu sounds good to him or not. He’d like to make a good chicken and beer experience for Taehyung, thank you very much—but Taehyung isn’t making things easy by agreeing to every suggestion Jeongguk makes. 

“Honey?” 

Taehyung hums, thinking about his answer for a few pondering minutes. 

“It goes well with desserts. I reckon it’ll taste good with chicken too?” he says, his accent seeping in as his tone tilts into a question at the end. 

“Hm, you’re not making this easy on me hyung,” Jeongguk answers, trying to find other options that Taehyung would be interested in. “I have no clue what you like.”

Taehyung lets out a laugh, “Don’t think too much about it, Jeongguk-ah. I’m good with everything. Just pick your favorite, I’m sure I’ll like it too.” 

“Sure. And what if my favorite is the matcha dipped one hyung?” 

“Then I’ll reconsider where you stand in my life.” 

Jeongguk chuckles at Taehyung’s deadpan answer. The music is thankfully set to a low volume, making conversations flow easily in the restaurant without any of them having to raise their voice—it’s gentle on their ears too. 

There’s a few other customers on the second floor with them, but it’s a generally lazy night here as opposed to the busy streets of Hongdae outside. Jeongguk shivers a little at the cold air from the ac above him. He should’ve brought his jacket along. 

“Do you want to share a full chicken among the four of us or just between you two?” Hoseok asks. 

He steals a glance at Taehyung, stifling a laugh when he sees Taehyung already staring at him with a little lost expression. 

“We could get two whole portions so we’ll get four flavors.” Jeongguk supplies.

“Yeah, but the last time we had two portions you had a bad stomach the next day.” Yoongi jumps in to remind Hoseok. 

Before Hoseok could defend himself, Taehyung jumps in, “I can help you finish it, Hoseok-hyung.” 

Hoseok perks up at Taehyung, “That’s settled then!”

They quickly call over the server to relay their orders—two half and half with a pint of beer to complete the mood. 

In all honesty, Jeongguk isn’t a big drinker. He can handle his liquor fairly well—maybe much better than Hoseok does—but nothing compared to Yoongi. That man has the endurance of a steel.  Jeongguk once spent an entire Saturday clutching his head and staying in, down with a devious case of hangover after spending the night before chugging down drinks like it’s his lifeline. In his defense, it was an all you can drink end-of-month promotion in one of Yoongi’s go-to local speakeasy bars. He wasn’t even planning to get drunk, just tried to keep up with Yoongi’s alcohol intake to keep vibing along. Big mistake. 

After that night, he tends to steer away from drinks when Yoongi’s there. But he decides to go along with the majority choice tonight, knowing Hoseok’s plan to make Taehyung have a good time and enjoy the full experience of chicken and beer. It’s nothing too much, of course. 

But Taehyung’s already in his second glass when Jeongguk isn’t even done with his first one. It comes as a pleasant surprise when Taehyung assures him that he’s drunk before, and that his tolerance is quite high. 

“Don’t worry about me,” Taehyung laughs as he takes sips of the beer. “I’m telling you I’m fine.”

“You’re fine with alcohol but you’ve never tried chimaek before.” Jeongguk states, feeling like he’s missing a huge puzzle piece. 

“My parents like wine tasting. Unfortunately, the talent nor the taste didn’t pass down to me.” Taehyung purses his lips, “I don’t know that much liquors, but beer and wine, they’re a familiar taste to me.” 

Interesting. He wonders what kind of house Taehyung grew up in. If his parents also taught him how to tune his wolf down in unfamiliar situations, or if that’s just a Jeon thing. 

“No, they don’t really teach me anything,” Taehyung says. He must’ve said his thoughts out loud, but he shrugs it off as an honest mistake as Taehyung continues answering him, “They mostly tell me off if I’m being stingy to my younger brothers. They’re awfully protective too—but then again, who wouldn’t be when their oldest son is the only omega in the house.” 

“Your parents are alphas?” Hoseok asks from across them, chopsticks in hand, to take slices of kimchi in the middle. 

Taehyung shakes his head. There’s a slight flush in his cheeks from the beer. Jeongguk taps on his arm to make Taehyung loosen his grip on the glass. “Take it easy, hyung.” 

It seems, even alcohol could make someone like Taehyung loose-lipped. Jeongguk continues to take sips of his own beer, cradled nicely between both of his hands—it’s starting to warm up and it should taste disgusting but Jeongguk’s too focused listening to Taehyung tell them about his childhood. Unlocking new memories and sharing anecdotes about his life that they all could relate to. 

“I’m gonna be brutal with you hyung, your face is red as fuck.” 

If it’s possible, Hoseok seems to redden even more at Taehyung’s honesty. Yoongi tugs his shoulder so he could take a proper look at his boyfriend, laughing when Taehyung’s remark is proven to be true. 

Between the four of them, it’s obvious that Hoseok is the lightweight. 

Their chicken arrives soon after, a little too hot to eat yet, but Taehyung’s eyes shine even in the dim restaurant, glimmering with anticipation as he takes the first bite of his chicken. 

Jeongguk waits patiently for his to cool down before digging in and he’s too curious to see Taehyung’s reaction. He doesn’t want to miss a moment like this. He raises his eyebrow at Yoongi with his phone out, aiming the back camera at Taehyung. 

“Feels like it’s too monumental to not document.” Yoongi shrugs. 

The loud crunch from the chicken. The slow chews to savor the taste. The wide eyes as the flavor settles on his taste buds. The approving moan Taehyung lets out as he takes another bite, finishing one drumstick with a gulp of beer like a champ—he knows Taehyung is a goner . 

No one has to ask Taehyung for his take. Even Yoongi stopped recording with a pleased smile plastered on his face. They silently start eating their fill, alternating between the flavors and casually peeking to see Taehyung’s reaction. He seems to be having the feast of his life. They get it. 

Yoongi asks for water, reprimanding Hoseok for drinking too much on an empty stomach. “You’re not drinking anymore.” 

“You can’t take out the maekju from chimaek baby, that doesn’t make any sense.” 

Jeongguk, as much as he agrees with Yoongi, is dumbfounded at Hoseok’s response. It’s technically true. It makes something warm rise to his chest at seeing his one link to family in the city being treated well. He’s thankful Hoseok has found his person already—thankful that it’s someone like Yoongi. That can love quietly and loudly too, balancing Hoseok in every way he can and making the conscious effort to try too. 

It isn’t rare to see alphas as a couple—there aren’t any rules or guidelines that control who gets to date who. And it’s what Jeongguk appreciates about their culture. While it’s wholly different from regular humans, love is love. The way love is practiced is a universal language between everyone, werewolves or not, regardless of rank—that doesn’t even matter anymore. 

Jeongguk doesn’t realize he’s lost in his thoughts again until Taehyung nudges his shoulder to get his attention. He hears Hoseok and Yoongi murmuring amongst themselves, keeping the conversation secluded to just them. It must’ve made Taehyung feel left out. 

Contrary to their initial assumption, the chickens are wiped clean from the plates. With Taehyung choosing to indulge himself in the honey flavor and Jeongguk switching the spicy ones in Taehyung’s plate for his garlic. 

“Wanna go outside for a bit?” 

Taehyung looks happy—or at least Jeongguk hopes he is. He tries to subtly breathe in, searching for any traces of discomfort in Taehyung’s scent and he’s relieved to find none. Maybe it’s gotten too cold in here, so he agrees. 

He takes them to the outdoor area of the second floor, excusing themselves from the rest—they don’t really pay Taehyung and Jeongguk any mind—sitting down at the table closest to the railing. There’s no one in the area. 

Taehyung sighs loudly in front of him, palm on top of the other as he closes his eyes and tilts his head back. The city’s loudness is muted from here. The only thing that screams of Seoul are the lights from below and the skyscrapers, a few honks and shrill laughter that easily makes its way to Jeongguk’s ears, but he’s learnt to take delight in them. 

He’s humming a melody that he just made up on the spot, and this seems to lull Taehyung into a state of contentment, tapping his feet underneath the table to accompany Jeongguk’s hum with the rhythm of his shoes against the floor. It makes an uncoordinated sound altogether, but the dissonance sounds beautiful in his ears either way. 

When things have calmed down and they stopped their impromptu performance, the silence embraces them comfortably. Jeongguk, needless to say, is surprised. He always thought that silence was meant to be filled, with anything or any noise—else it’ll grow to be awkward and dragged. 

But this—sitting here in a smoking area where none of them smokes, with no one in tow and no one but them in sight—the quiet feels safe. 

It also makes Jeongguk feel brave. 

“So, what do you think?” 

Taehyung turns his head to face Jeongguk. He was admiring the tall buildings and the busy vendors down below, mindlessly tuning in to the closest conversation like Jeongguk did as well. 

“Hm?” Taehyung responds, tiling his head to think some more. “I think I’ll eat chicken and beer every night starting from tomorrow.” 

Jeongguk laughs loudly. He makes a mental note to change Taehyung’s contact name later. “No hyung, I was talking about Yoongi-hyung and Hoseok-hyung,” he shakes his head in amusement. “And I don’t think that choice of diet is a great idea.” 

Taehyung scoffs, “Everything is a good idea if you put your mind into it.”

“For more reasons than one, I think that saying does not make any sense.” 

“I think,” Taehyung starts, leaning to the side and squinting his eyes at a distance to see something. Jeongguk tries to follow his line of sight, but all he sees is the Hangang river. “You should take me somewhere tomorrow.” 

“Preferably a picnic,” he adds.

“Also—just a preference of course, nothing to think too deeply about—somewhere along The Han river,” he adds some more. “With takeaways. Fried chicken.” Taehyung concludes with a cheeky smile. 

Jeongguk only listens and nods along to every word Taehyung says. Enjoying the faint tint in his cheeks that’s only accentuated with the light bulb above Taehyung. 

Maybe it’s the right time to ask Taehyung out properly, as per his request with the picnic for a start. He gives it a shot. 

“So it’s a preference?” Taehyung nods, he tries to contain his growing smile by biting his lower lip and it makes Jeongguk’s palm sweat. Because Taehyung looks handsome in green and charming when he’s honest. 

“Then let’s say we go out tomorrow, preferably at 2, we can meet here to get your favorite chicken and then we have a picnic preferably somewhere between Banpo Bridge and the Jamwon River terrace. And we can also preferably call it a date?” 

Jeongguk finishes. The thud, thud, thud rhythm his heart makes is enough indication of his nerves. Beating to fill the silence, looking forward to Taehyung’s reply, and perhaps, a little part of him is also ready to face any ounce of rejection so he could prepare himself to take a step back.

But after a moment, Taehyung merely chuckles.

“Then I would preferably like it if it happens for real, Jeongguk.” 

He grins unabashedly at Jeongguk, hesitant fingers reaching out to trace a line on Jeongguk’s open palm on the table. It sends a jolt of electricity to him, a catalyst to the butterflies in his stomach to start rummaging around. 

Jeongguk tugs at Taehyung’s finger so he can intertwine their hands together. It brings a smile to Taehyung's face, making his scent spike a little. He smells sweet and frankly, intoxicating. 

This, looking at Taehyung and realizing that his attraction is reciprocated, makes him think of the cheesiest things in his head. But he cares less about the lines of love songs he makes in his head and more about the man in front of him. 

“Are you okay with all this?” Jeongguk asks, aware of the double meaning behind his question. It could be him asking about Taehyung’s process of adapting here or their skinship. 

Taehyung murmurs his answer, “I’m okay with anything you give me.” 

He tucks in the answer safely in his head, happiness swelling like a balloon in his chest. But it’s also then that he realizes that his wolf is… content.

Getting ahead of himself is a dangerous thing, so he takes the realization with a grain of salt. 

“And Seoul?” 

Taehyung hums questioningly at Jeongguk, still admiring the tattoos on his skin. “What about it?” 

“Do you still hate it?” 

“No,” Taehyung says, locking his eyes on Jeongguk, “strangely, I feel okay when I’m with you. Less restless.” 

Funny enough, Jeongguk feels the same way. 

—

In some way or another, a werewolf would grow up questioning how their species work . What makes them different from humans, similar to them and dependent on them. 

At first, it strikes Jeongguk as a weird contradiction. Knowing that they could do much more with their enhanced physical capabilities yet also relying on human advancement with technology and modern progressions. And as time goes, they’ve stopped shifting into their wolf forms as well. It exists as a part of them inside, a carnal part that will keep them tied together. A belonging. 

While this means that they’re, well, in human form, it comes with the excess instincts and DNAs that makes everything complicated. 

Jeongguk gets it though. Even when along the way everything blurs together, there’s a clear line that separates them and humans even when they co-exist. 

He sees this disposition in his observation of the people currently in the park as he waits for Taehyung to return from his toilet break. Absentmindedly chewing on his chicken wing, he tries not to scrunch his nose at the sound of damp soil and the strong wind. It blows with it the scent of different people within his periphery, but he pays it no mind—just a mere inner layer that he won’t try to actively sniff out. 

There’s a group of people near their spot, near the big tree that serves as a sturdy wall for some to lean on. They paint a pretty picture, with the faint fragrance of nature, the occasional falling leaves and the sun slowly setting down in the background—it’s charming. He likes to think that in some way, when he’s with his friends, it’ll be like that. Glances could be stolen just as quickly as words could be taken back. But nothing is quite entirely hidden when they’re together—they could try, but their scents would betray them either way. 

If Jeongguk is being honest, growing up being an open book sucks. He had to learn how to keep some things to himself with extra effort and to keep his mouth shut about certain things. Like someone’s scent lingering on his friend’s skin even when he knows full well his friend is with someone else. 

They chatter aimlessly, about the most unimportant things, miniscule ones until one chatterbox slows and another one starts to fill in the gaps of silences. It reminds Jeongguk of Hoseok somehow. He’s always the one that never lets silence linger for too long, and Taehyung is slowly sharing the job too. 

He senses Taehyung before he sees him. He finds something new in each inhale, but nothing brings a smile to his face faster than Taehyung’s natural ones. It isn’t noticeable at first but Jeongguk’s already find himself quite attuned to Taehyung, able to sense him even underneath the layers of scents the area offers. 

Specks of gold tittered in his brown hair from the sun, his warm vanilla scent makes a warm feeling appear in his chest, curling neatly as the wind breezes between them. There’s a permanent blush high on his cheeks due to the heat that clings and he looks fresh.

“Long line?” Jeongguk asks, both his hands planted on the ground as he leans back to see Taehyung approaching.

He shakes his head, “No, I was psyching myself out.”

Jeongguk raises his eyebrows, a smile almost making its way to his face but he forces it down. “Why’s that?”

“Because I’m on a date with someone like you.”

“Oh,” Jeongguk says when Taehyung’s close enough. Tugging his fingers down so Taehyung would follow him on the thin, checkered mat. “So this is a date? I was under the impression that it’s a private tour of the Han river.”

“Is it not obvious enough that I’m trying to woo you?”

“Trust me, it is, ” Jeongguk assures, feeling the familiar light feeling wash over him as he watches Taehyung play with his fingers. “I just like messing with you.”

He watches Taehyung’s eyes crinkle with delight, a tad bit shy if it’s any indication from the warmness seeping in his scent. 

“You’re a mouthful, aren’t you?” 

Jeongguk chuckles, taking the last piece of chicken and feeding it to Taehyung. 

“You’re the one with your mouth full, hyung.” He counters, smiling cheekily at the elder still seemingly flustered at the unexpected action.

Once Taehyung has finished chewing with a noticeable pout, he merely mutters under his breath but loud enough for Jeongguk to hear. “A menace. A goddamn menace.” It makes him laugh. 

“Can you pass me the strawberries?” 

Jeongguk gives him the box. Letting Taehyung indulge himself as he lets his attention stray elsewhere. 

The group of friends have long gone, it seems. There are no traces of them except for their lingering scents that still stay. It will go in a few hours, just like how Jeongguk’s scent on Taehyung would too.

In between the munching, Taehyung uses his free hand to touch his knuckles. Tapping each tattoo on Jeongguk’s fingers. He lets Taehyung play with his hands for some time. Soaking in the last remnants of the sun before it starts to glow a bright orange and start sinking. It reminds him of home, for some reason. Weirdly, his hometown was always chilly and more often than not, covered in a suspended fog that seems to be attached to the town. But this—the momentary tranquility in the midst of the city’s hustle and bustle, accompanied with a rather fine gentleman that traces the outer lines of his ink like he has all the time in the world—feels right. 

“What does this mean?” Taehyung asks, pointing at the small chest on his wrist. 

“Nothing.” 

“Hm,” Taehyung hums, lightly touching the next tattoo that piques his curiosity. The falling leaves just below the previous tattoo. “What about this one?” 

“Nothing.” Jeongguk says again, obviously lying. 

“I see. Interesting choice of color as well. You use red ink to paint the leaves instead of green or just black. Too bad it means nothing.” Taehyung tries to goad, a knowing look in his eyes as he retracts the finger that was pleasantly tracing his skin. 

The sun is starting to set. It takes Jeongguk’s attention off Taehyung for a little. Seeing the small ripples of the river reflect the warm colors in the sky that looks hand brushed by an expert with watercolor paints. The sight itself could take his breath away if he pays attention hard enough. But a spike in Taehyung’s scent tells him that something else will do it for him. Something that’s coming.

“And what does this mean?” Taehyung asks. His voice has dropped lower, a pleasant octave that sends a slight shiver to his body but laced with hesitation. It makes Jeongguk want to reach out and turn it into conviction. 

Taehyung’s eyes search his. Looking for something—a little hint, any hint—that would put a stop to the rising tension between them. He doesn’t dare to breathe through his nose. Afraid that it’ll evoke an emotion that he doesn’t want to put a name to yet. But Taehyung leans in, slowly. Until he’s close enough for Jeongguk to count the lashes he has on each eye. 

He’s treading uncharted waters right now. It’s risky. Unfamiliar. But it feels right. He tries to form a coherent sentence to assure Taehyung that this is fine—this is good. 

“You’re beautiful under the sun.”

Jeongguk says softly, all but a whisper that he hopes Taehyung hears. He eases the grip he had on the mat, feeling it wrinkle under his touch as he unclenches his fist from the hold it has, bringing it up to the side of Taehyung’s face. 

From the flustered look Taehyung has on his face, Jeongguk’s positive that the compliment  is well-received. If anything else, it makes him feel brave.

Taehyung presses his forehead against his. Hands circling loosely around Jeongguk’s wrist that’s holding him. It’s only then that Jeongguk allows himself to breathe normally. Under the sun, Taehyung looks like comfort. And he hasn’t had that for a long time.

“Jeongguk-ah,” Taehyung says. His hands shake with anticipation. Even if Jeongguk is the one helping Taehyung to familiarize himself with the city, this time, Jeongguk’s the one shaking with fear. Starting something that’s filled with uncertainty is always scary. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes—Yes hyung, kiss me now.” 

He doesn’t know which one of them leans first, but when their lips touch, Jeongguk feels something settle in his chest. Warm and right. He drops his hand as Taehyung uses the momentum to press closer.

He could taste summer—fleeting and sweet—in Taehyung’s lips. Meeting him with the warmth of the same sunbeams that peeks through his curtains in the morning, teasing his eyes to rise before his alarm rings. And he could never groan or sigh at the sun—just like he can’t at Taehyung. His waist is soft to touch, Jeongguk finds out. He circles his arms around Taehyung as their lips get to know each other. 

It’s tentative at first, slow pecks that leave Jeongguk feeling dizzy and craving for more. To map out Taehyung’s lips. And the pleased noises that Taehyung lets out the second their lips detach before pressing again are enough to drive Jeongguk insane. 

Taehyung’s scent makes his head swim, the combination of citrus, vanilla and the fruit punch next to them engulfing him in his entirety. The hand uselessly by his side is brought up to cup the side of Taehyung’s cheek, thumb grazing his jaw to relax his mouth. He uses the moment to slip in his tongue, tasting the strawberry and chocolate that Taehyung ate just mere minutes ago. 

His pale skin blooms like roses under Jeongguk’s touch. It’s addicting to see the faint color turn to a visible blush. 

When they pull apart, Jeongguk could feel that something between them has shifted. He doesn’t have it in him to actually pull away. So he rubs Taehyung’s arms up and down, sinking further into the feeling that has lulled them into their current state. Jeongguk is defenseless like this. The previous hesitation that Taehyung had in his voice, he hopes that it won’t be there anymore after this. 

Jeongguk feels Taehyung tightening his hold on him, locking them in an embrace that makes his heart thump faster. Taehyung rests his head on the crook of his neck, nosing at Jeongguk’s skin. He doesn’t let himself think about it, but deep inside, he knows what Taehyung is doing. 

“Hyung,” he calls softly, his tone a little shy, “are you scenting me?”

There’s only been two instances that he’s ever been scented—as a form of affection by his parents, most prominently his mother, and by Hoseok to help him calm down. The last time someone tried to scent him romantically, well, it was a fling that made him anxious instead of relaxed. 

So now having Taehyung scenting him in the middle of a park that’s devoid of people and the sky close to getting dark, right after their first kiss, it fills him with joy. Taehyung releases a sigh of contentment as he settles on Jeongguk’s shoulder. Taehyung doesn’t answer him verbally, he simply hums and buries himself closer to Jeongguk’s neck. Right on his scent gland. 

After a while, Jeongguk’s scared that Taehyung would fall asleep in public, so he pokes Taehyung’s side. He’d like to scent Taehyung too, but mutual scenting is a step too quick for someone who’s just had their first date. So he refrains. 

“Tell me about your tattoos,” Taehyung mumbles onto his skin. His breath is warm against Jeongguk’s sensitive part, but the knowledge that he’ll smell like Taehyung for the rest of the day defeats the slight discomfort. 

“Next time.”

“Promise?” 

Jeongguk plants a kiss on top of Taehyung’s head. “Promise, hyung.”

—

In Jeongguk's life, things have always been complicated. But Taehyung isn’t a formula that takes him a couple tries to figure out, he’s easy to understand and that makes it easier for Jeongguk to grow comfortable with him. 

He doesn’t have to try hard or to put on a brave mask to woo Taehyung. There’s a lot to unpack—about their status, how they’ll move forward and where Jeongguk lies in the equation of Taehyung’s life. It brings him enough reassurance that Taehyung’s just like him. He understands . 

The first few times that he tried to date in Seoul, he had to explain himself or justify his actions because of how he was wired to live. It gets tedious, and people’s curiosity can turn into boredom and Jeongguk’s left with unread messages that stretches from days to months. It doesn’t hurt him thinking about it now, though. They were just people he went on dates with a couple of times but not enough for him to grow interested to pursue. 

But it’ll be a lie to say it didn’t send a pang to his chest when it happened. Like it didn’t make him lie awake at night thinking of the things that went wrong. With Taehyung, it comes easy— this thing he has yet to find the courage to put a name on, it comes easy. 

He just hopes that it’s not another lesson for him. 

The phone beeps with his custom-set ringtone, signaling an incoming call. It brings him relief that Hoseok always calls at the right time. 

“Hyung,” he greets before Hoseok could get a word in. 

“Hey there, Guk. You free for a bit?” 

“Yeah. Just finished vacuuming the place,” he says, absentmindedly pulling the frayed threads of his carpet. 

“Hmm. I’m just checking up on you to make sure you’re not sleeping the weekends away and regretting it on Monday.” 

Jeongguk chuckles onto the phone, “No hyung, I went out with Taehyung yesterday but I’m just staying in today.”

“A date?”

“Yeah—no? I don’t know. We skirt around each other all the time. We did say it was a date but who knows, really.” The kettle whistles in his kitchen. His water is boiling. “I kissed him though. Just before I walk him back to the station.”

He hears Hoseok humming in his ear as he walks to the kitchen to turn off the stove. 

“But you’re not a thing yet?” 

“No,” Jeongguk confirms, pouring the hot water into the mug and blindly reaching into the shelves to take his chamomile tea bags. “I’m still figuring him out, honestly. Taehyung’s a great guy but I don’t want to get ahead of myself, you know?”

“It’s not rocket science, Guk. You went on a date, you kissed, it means he’s as interested as you as you are with him.”

Jeongguk sighs, blowing softly on his tea as he dips the bag a few times before letting it settle in the water. He watches the brown color seep into the clear liquid, marking its place in swirls and tainting the water a muted light brown color. “I don’t know. I haven’t even heard from him the whole day, hyung. What if he regrets going out with me?”

“Then you start over with someone new.” comes Hoseok’s easy response. 

“I’m sick of that, honestly. Just doing everything from square one and everything else all over again. I’m too old for this.” 

Hoseok’s laugh rings in his speaker, making him grimace a little at the pitch. “You’re only 24. Quit acting like you’re fucking 54, kid.” he hears Yoongi say in the background. 

“Am I on speaker?” 

“Yep,” Hoseok confirms with a pop. “Yoongi here is curious about the progression of you and Taehyung’s relationship.” 

At that, Jeongguk rolls his eyes despite the heat that rises to his neck. “There’s no relationship to begin with, Yoongi-hyung.” 

“Lies,” Yoongi’s grumbled voice is suddenly clearer to him. He must’ve taken the phone from Hoseok. “I see how you act with each other at the restaurant. You’re comfortable with each other. And you know he is interested. His scent said so.”

Jeongguk contemplates telling them about what Taehyung did after they kissed. Thinking about it makes him dizzy, in a way that makes him feel all sorts of jumbled emotions all in one. He decides that it’s better to come clean, they’re his only friends here anyway. 

The next thing Yoongi and Hoseok tell him, he knows already. Scenting is a definite step in their culture to start a relationship. When you start consciously seeking someone’s scent and feel something settle warmly in your skin—like everything is in place when you’re within close proximity, it’s a dead giveaway that it’s more than a simple crush. 

Taehyung’s scent draws him in, making something familiar curl neatly in his chest like shadowy tendrils that engulfs his heart and controls the rhythm of its beat. A sense of longing washes over him now that he’s had a taste of Taehyung’s natural scent, it leads him to sending the first text. 

Needless to say, Taehyung responds almost immediately, noticeably with excitement and relief at Jeongguk’s greeting. It was a simple text, a ‘had a great time yesterday. wouldn’t mind a repeat.’ to which Taehyung replied with a series of emojis that still makes Jeongguk’s head hurt at deciphering, but the message is understood. 

Relief washes over him. His tea remains untouched, even when he was looking forward to drinking it from half an hour ago. But now, he’s too preoccupied with the realizations in his head after the phone call with Yoongi and Hoseok, and Taehyung’s eager response. 

The chamomile scent calms his head, but the ghost of soft lips on his and the lingering warmth that Taehyung’s touch left in his trail makes his heart race with want. Lukewarm tea tastes disgusting, but he pays it no mind as he drinks it, savoring each gulp and the floral aftertaste.  

His gut feeling tells him that this might end well. And he could learn to love Taehyung if he lets him—although it’s a bit too early and too soon to say that word—maybe somewhere later down the line if all goes well. 

It’s only been one date, afterall. Putting one’s heart on their sleeve is a foolish decision, but it’s what Jeongguk is doing now.

—

from: Tae(hyung)

Jeongguk 

Jeongguuuuk

Jeonggukz

to: Tae(hyung)

don’t ever put a z behind my name again!

shame!

from: Tae(hyung)

Hey handsome

Got plans for tonight?

to: Tae(hyung)

hello there too handsome

no, i don’t

i’m heading to bed early. worked out and now i’m dead tiredd

from: Tae(hyung)

Working out on a sunday?

You’re either a boring person or jobless

Although knowing that you do have a job leaves only the first option available :)

to: Tae(hyung)

are you indirectly calling me boring?

from: Tae(hyung)

No babe, I’m telling you directly

to: Tae(hyung)

ha

funny

from: Tae(hyung)

I’m kidding!!

Anyways, I was gonna ask you

If you’d like to come to this dinner with my coworkers 

But you’re dead tired so, maybe next time?

to: Tae(hyung)

sure hyung

sorry i can’t come today :(

dinner tomorrow?

from: Tae(hyung)

It’s time I cash in your promise 

to: Tae(hyung)

mala at my place after work?

from: Tae(hyung)

Ah Jeongguk, you truly know the way to a man’s heart

to: Tae(hyung)

just yours hyung

—

Sleep comes easy for Jeongguk. After an intense cardio session, there’s nothing more he wants than to crash early. So it comes as a surprise when there’s suddenly a knocking on his door. The pounding grows louder when he tries to ignore it, hoping it was someone looking for the wrong apartment number. It doesn’t seem to be the case when the person knocking grows more persistent, the sound penetrating through the walls of his apartment. He’s sure the neighbors would be pissed if he doesn’t answer anytime soon. 

Jeongguk reluctantly blinks away the last remnants of sleep, silently patting himself on the back for having to drag his feet an hour past his supposed bedtime. 

When he opens the door, his nose is suddenly hit with an unfamiliar scent that clings to a familiar face, catching him in a hug as the person buries his nose in between his neck and shoulder. He instinctively wraps his arm around the man, tugging him (more like dragging) inside before he shuts the door. 

There’s an itch in his nose and in his head at the smell that screams at him from Taehyung. He’s still drowsy from being awakened suddenly, and the appearance of Taehyung outside his door is enough to kickstart his brain to work faster. 

“Hyung.” He settles Taehyung on the sofa. He clings to Jeongguk, whining when he pulls apart to reposition the elder’s legs so as to not twist his limbs uncomfortably on the couch. “What are you doing here?”

One sniff close to Taehyung is enough for Jeongguk to know that the man is intoxicated, probably too drunk to go home on his own and yet sober enough to end up in Jeongguk’s place. He remembers telling his address once in passing, just to sate Taehyung’s curiosity and the seemingly endless pot of questions, but he never expects Taehyung to actually come visit him at—he glances at the clock on his wall—one thirty in the morning. 

“I dunno,” Taehyung slurs, fitting himself next to Jeongguk and clutching his arm. “Just missed you, I think.” 

Taehyung’s admission brings a fresh round of butterflies in his stomach, but it’s trampled almost violently when Jeongguk again catches the scent of someone else thick on Taehyung’s skin. As if this person—upon further speculation, another alpha—interlaced their scent onto Taehyung. Like a mark. It’s faint, but it’s enough for Jeongguk to feel played. He knows how to imprint one’s scent onto another; it’s by hugging closely and scenting, or upon his new discovery courtesy of Taehyung, by kissing. 

Jeongguk isn’t a jealous person, nor does he feel possessive over Taehyung. After all, he’s his own person and not a belonging. It just makes the tug of heartache bubble quickly up his throat and onto his taste buds. All he could feel is an ache that started to carve its way down to his chest. He has no way of knowing that Taehyung might be close to another person and maybe it was foolish of him to think that Taehyung was on the same page with him. 

There’s a difference—a slight one—in how one scents a lover and one scents a friend or family member. And it doesn’t take a newborn to figure out the difference in intention. The slight tanginess that doesn’t come from Taehyung permeates the air around the man, as if claiming him and daring anyone else to try to touch Taehyung. 

It brings forth a haunting feeling in Jeongguk that he was not familiar with. 

Taehyung is playing with his fingers again, mumbling something under his breath that Jeongguk can’t bother to strain his ears to hear. Jeongguk’s next to the person he’s looking forward to see, but he feels lonelier than ever. 

He thinks he hears Taehyung calling his name, trying to get his attention. He can’t fight his instincts to curl up and be away from the foreign scent swimming in the air around him. It may as well be an insult, adding salt to an injury that’s just been inflicted. 

Taehyung’s fingers trail down to his wrist, absentmindedly rubbing the skin and tracing the trail of tattoos that decorates his skin. The only light comes from the window, the moon painting the room a muted blue in tune with Jeongguk’s inner turmoil, it seems. 

His skin is soft, it still leaves a trail of warmth as it reaches his elbow and back to his palm. Jeongguk feels Taehyung’s breath warm on his neck, sighing contently, and it makes the familiar pang of heat appear in his eyes. 

What does he want from me?

With effort, Jeongguk slowly pries Taehyung’s hands away, placing it on Taehyung’s own lap as he excuses himself to the kitchen. He thinks he senses a defeat in Taehyung’s scent, but he’s too in his head to think clearly and he’s sure Taehyung isn’t sober enough to hold a proper conversation as well. 

He comes back to hand Taehyung a glass of water, urging him to finish the glass and come to his bedroom. 

Jeongguk offers a change of clothes, settling Taehyung to sit on the bed as he rummages through his wardrobe to find a spare shirt. Seeing Taehyung in his room, on his bed, makes him feel sad. 

“Here, hyung. I got you a shirt and baggy pants. If it’s too small you can just pick whatever you want from here, yeah?” he says, handing Taehyung the stack of clothes for him to change. Taehyung tries to search his eyes, but Jeongguk avoids his gaze, determined to not look at his face for the time being so he can sit outside with this hurt for a while. 

“Thank you.” Taehyung takes the change of clothes from Jeongguk’s hands, leaving his arms outstretched and empty. He lightly takes Jeongguk’s hand in his. “Are you sleeping-”

“Outside.” Jeongguk interrupts curtly. He gives Taehyung’s hand a light squeeze and lets go. “Call me if you need anything, hyung. The bathroom is over there.” He points to the left. “Make yourself comfortable.” 

It seems Taehyung is troubled with something, but Jeongguk just shrugs. It’s wise to decide for both of them tonight. 

“I’m sorry.” 

It’s then that Jeongguk looks at him. Actually sees Taehyung as the elder stares back, trying to look for a trace of something in his eyes. Taehyung deflates when he realizes that Jeongguk isn’t giving him anything else for him to go by. 

“You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“Then,” Taehyung tries to look for the words he’d like to say. Jeongguk patiently waits, giving him the space needed to be placed in between them. “I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry. It’s a monday night and you have work—I have work—in a few hours, and I disturbed you. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable I just,” he hiccups, taking a deep breath before he says the next words, “I just wanted to see you.” He steps closer to Jeongguk, he stumbles a little with his steps and Jeongguk has to remind himself that Taehyung is drunk. “I want to be with you.” 

There it is again. The tug in his heartstrings that plays and breaks at Taehyung’s slightest gesture. Relationships are such tricky things to handle blindly. Taehyung seems to breeze back and forth with his intentions, and it makes Jeongguk sway with him. 

Jeongguk rubs his eyes and sighs, “It’s late, hyung, we should sleep.” 

The door clicks shut softly behind Jeongguk as he leaves Taehyung in his room. He leans his head a little, already feeling the telltale of a migraine that will stick with him until tomorrow. He wonders if it’ll be wise to call in sick and just deal with all this .

Jeongguk needs time to compartmentalize his emotions. Lest it gets the better of him. He forgets how messy relationships could be. 

The couch is comfortable enough for Jeongguk to sleep on for the night. He’s used to taking short naps or falling asleep here anyway. It’s not much of a difference, he thinks. 

But it is. 

With Taehyung sleeping in the other room, only divided by a door, Jeongguk’s mind works twice as hard. Drawing up fortune sticks in his own head and losing himself in scenarios that only serve to hurt him. But this is fine. It’s how Jeongguk protects himself. 

The idea of being with Taehyung isn’t something he entertains often. It’s because they’ve grown close. Impossibly so, that Jeongguk thought it was only natural for them to progress further as each other’s. But now, with Taehyung wrapped in another’s scent, it triggers an indescribable feeling of loneliness and hurt in him. He knows that it’s his wolf side that could be blamed for this extreme reaction, but what is Jeongguk without his wolf? 

It’s part of him. It is him. And so, if it cries, Jeongguk would cry too. 

Right now, his chest is heavy with a burden he can’t carry. So he lets his mind wander and eyes rest. 

Sleep doesn’t come easy this time.

—

Jeongguk wakes up with a faint pounding in his head. No surprises there. Judging by the lack of noises in the apartment, Taehyung is still asleep. 

Before he could think about what will happen when he wakes up, Jeongguk brushes the thought away. He needs to move his body somehow. Take a walk, maybe. The previous night comes to him in flashes. Of Taehyung knocking his door at god knows when, looking lost at first, then eyes lighting up as he lands his eyes on Jeongguk. Like he’s been found.  

The knots in his chest that have settled there last night slowly come undone. Sleep is always the cure to a weary mind, it seems. 

Without him noticing, his feet take him out of the apartment with his trash bag in his hand. 

The trash chute has been repaired. Which means he has one less reason to take the lift down and walk outside for fresh air. If anyone were to come out of their doors, they’d see Jeongguk staring down at the trash chute like a fool. Contemplating. Thinking. 

The smell from the accumulated waste in the bag is starting to seep out. Jeongguk’s nose scrunches in disdain at the filthy odor it gives. There’s only so much time he can waste idly, so his body makes the decision for him faster than his mind could ever make. It’s still pretty early. Early enough for the city to give him a momentary sense of calmness. Mondays are always slow, people dragging their feet with droopy eyes or marks left from the other night’s shenanigans.  

Taehyung is sleeping soundly in his room while Jeongguk goes down to the lobby. Is this him walking away? Is this him being a coward? There’s so many things he’d like to say, to do, to try to make things right all over again. But is it worth trying?

Jeongguk chews his bottom lip. Slowly descending in his thoughts. He likes to keep to himself most of the time. Making a mental list of things that should be done first, which instances to prioritize, separating emotions as best as he can from rational judgements, but it’s Taehyung.

Taehyung, who’s always clouded his mind and makes him feel wanted. Taehyung, with a warm smile that makes Jeongguk understand the sentiment behind the word belong . Because he wants to belong to the owner of a smile as radiant as that. Taehyung, who broke his sunglasses a few days ago and sent him a picture of him using the wonky sunglasses that tilts in a funny angle. 

He’s already attuned to the man. Much more than he’s ever been to another person. 

The lift dings, announcing its stop. Jeongguk blinks away the thoughts that have plagued him. The lobby is devoid of people. Not even the Janitor Guy is here. A feeling of disorientation comes up his throat at the unfamiliar sight. He's so used to being greeted by the janitor when he walks out the building that he takes a moment to adapt to the silence enveloping the lobby. 

Jeongguk wonders if this will be all that’s left for him if Taehyung goes too. 

It doesn’t take long for Jeongguk to dump the bag into the trash bin. Body moving in autopilot as he briskly walks to and fro the area back to the lobby. Footsteps echo louder in places far too big to fit one person. It’s a hollow sound that resonates close to his bones, vibrates beneath skin and fades in his eardrums. Jeongguk wonders if this is what it amounts to—from something tangible reverberating until it fades to nothing.

The exhales feel harder to breathe out the longer he stays in the elevator. There’s a faint screeching noise the door makes when it opens, he’s passed the point of recoiling at such a minor noise. He wills himself to slow down, let his inner wolf breathe and settle. If they aren’t in tune, then hell will break loose. 

The big part of him had gone ahead and attached itself to Taehyung’s scent. If he breathes in and focuses hard enough, traces of the vanilla Taehyung brings has latched itself into the fabric Jeongguk wears. Buried deep enough to be a part of him that Jeongguk brings. Scents wear away with time. 

A conversation is waiting for him when he enters his apartment—the overbearing, daunting weight of offering a part of him and expecting nothing in return. It’s how he loves, he finds out. Not that it’s anything as near to love yet, but his wolf has yet to learn the difference between attraction and affection. 

Jeongguk’s legs are heavy with lead when he stops in front of his own door. He wonders if he should knock to announce his presence, or warn the person on the other side that his absence is no longer. He’s well aware of the spike in his scent, the rapid highs and lows that indicates his mood’s instability. The unpleasant pheromones he must be letting out. 

Briefly, he wishes Taehyung had left so he could deal with this side of him on his own. The ugly, messy side that Jeongguk gives up control on. 

But then a thud is heard. Then brisk footsteps, as if the person tried but failed to not show his eagerness. 

And the door opens. 

In front of Jeongguk stands Taehyung—eyes weary and hints of red peeking near his irises. The sun is a good friend of his, Jeongguk thinks, for he looks like he belongs in the day. 

“Jeongguk,” he breathes, widening the space between him and the door to make way for Jeongguk to enter. “You weren’t there when I woke up. I was—” He steps aside for Jeongguk to step in and take his shoes off. “—worried you might leave because of me.” 

There’s crumpled tissue lying lifelessly on the carpet, like it’s been scrunched and smoothed multiple times before it’s left on the ground. The blanket he used last night is folded neatly on the couch. 

Something coils in his chest, weaving itself in intricate knots that forces Jeongguk to breathe slowly through his nose. There’s no traces of foreign scent in his house. Now that he thinks about it, Taehyung’s hair looks damp. A blooming flush across his skin like it’s been scrubbed harshly. Another tug in his chest forces him to swallow. Taehyung’s scent screams worry . 

“Hyung,” Jeongguk starts, combing his hair back. Sweat makes his hair stick to his forehead. “Did you have a good sleep?” Confused and affected by Taehyung’s scent, Jeongguk takes a step forward to settle the man’s worry, to reassure him that he’s fine. 

“I feel like there’s something we’re not talking about.” 

Taehyung’s skin glows pleasantly with just faint traces of the morning sun from his curtain. Like malleable gold. “Hyung, I don’t want to make you feel trapped. I don’t want you to see me as this guy who’s too much. But you have to tell me how I should react when you kiss me one day and then the next, you come to me with another person’s scent. I—” Jeongguk steps back two times. Taehyung follows suit. “I’m only a person, hyung. I don’t deserve to be played like this.” 

“Jeongguk—” 

“It was like a brand, hyung. A mark. It was a faint one yet it made me react strongly like this. I’m—I don’t know what to do, hyung. I don’t know.” Jeongguk reaches out to take Taehyung’s fingers hesitantly, shuddering when Taehyung readily accepts the physical contact. “It makes me feel and do ugly things.” 

Taehyung’s thumb smooths his, back and forth. Slow strokes that bring a sense of calmness that he’s been looking for in the morning walk. “What I said last night—do you remember?” Jeongguk nods. “I meant it. I want to be with you. I want to come here and rest with you when the day isn’t giving me anything good to go by because - because you’re good. You’re great. You’re the one I want,” Taehyung confesses, “and I’m sorry about last night.” 

Jeongguk tilts his head, allowing Taehyung to settle his head on his shoulder. This feels strange to him, calming someone else as the other calms him too. Burying his nose in someone’s hair just to breathe in citrus and vanilla deep into his lungs. A scent that he’d like to bottle and carry everywhere because it reminds him of safety. 

His wolf is pleased at the apology—everything shifts into place as the truth comes in the picture. There’s still the nagging question at the back of his head, wondering who that alpha might be. But even that takes a back seat. Nothing matters except for Taehyung and him, grounding each other with their scents. 

“I’m sorry too,” Jeongguk murmurs. The tight knot in his heart slowly unravels as light comes in to smoothen the rough edges. “For how I reacted. I didn’t feel secure because we weren’t.. a thing yet.” 

“We can be.” Taehyung pipes up, eyes on Jeongguk as he straightens his back. His eyes search for Jeongguk in question, a hopeful one. 

Please. 

 “We can be.” He repeats. 

Jeongguk moves his head. The repetition flows out of his mouth with the conviction of a judge. Thumb tracing Taehyung’s lower lip, up to his cheek and back down before cradling the side of the older’s face. If there is a word to describe the moment, Jeongguk thinks it would be something close to contentment—the feeling of being full of life and relief at finally receiving an answer to his yearning. 

There’s a spike in Taehyung’s scent again, the smell of fresh lemons tamed by his own. Warmth seeps into the room as their lips meet in the middle. Jeongguk’s lips capture Taehyung’s like it’s embracing the missing piece to a puzzle that’s been left incomplete for a long time. This, right here, feels like change—and yet it’s one that he welcomes with open arms. 

Quietly, Jeongguk smiles into the kiss. His wolf whines in delight.

—

Later, both of them go to their respective jobs with a lighter chest. A clear head compared to the muddled one they left untouched last night. 

Jeongguk doesn’t realize it, but he glances at the clock every hour or so, itching for work to end. He breezes through his tasks and takes the cab back (the reprimand from carelessly using his money like this will come on another day). 

They’ve decided to talk properly after work, in Jeongguk’s apartment again. The term ‘we need to talk’ still brings in the nerves he associates with bad things, but he’ll gladly swallow them in lieu of better communication. 

He still wants to ask who the person might be—not that Jeongguk feels threatened or defeated like he did just a handful of hours ago, no, he feels the need to reassure Taehyung that it’s okay. Things like that happen to people that are easy to love. 

“I know I made it seem like I wanted to tell you something serious,” Taehyung says as he takes the last dumpling and cuts it into two. “But really it’s an excuse to spend more time with you.” He picks one half with his chopsticks and drops it on Jeongguk’s plate. “I hope you don’t mind?” He adds. 

Jeongguk shakes his head, feeling fond. “Not at all hyung, the feeling’s mutual.” 

“Good.” 

—

“It was my co-worker.” Taehyung breaks the silence as he passes the rinsed plate to Jeongguk. “I didn’t realize he was interested in me that way.” 

The best thing about Taehyung, he learns, is that he pays no special attention to things he doesn’t have any interest in. And with this comes a sheepish realization at the clear signs Taehyung shows him before, that he wants Jeongguk in the same way that Jeongguk wants him. 

The small towel in his hold is the perfect weapon to lighten the mood. He takes the other end into his hand and aims it at Taehyung’s arm, earning a yelp. 

“Hey—quit it!” Taehyung retaliates by spraying the running water on him. 

There’s laughter bubbling in his throat at Taehyung’s attempt to move away from Jeongguk’s reach but ends up being cornered. 

Taehyung laughs too, eyes dancing with glee and widened comedically when he pleads with Jeongguk to let him go. 

Yet the second Jeongguk takes a step back, Taehyung’s arms reach out and circle his waist, bringing him closer. Taehyung’s scent is inviting him, luring him in until Jeongguk has no choice but to nuzzle his nose right on Taehyung’s scent gland briefly, to satiate his desire. 

They’re still drunk on joy, and when they kiss, it ends up sloppy as Taehyung giggles on his skin. 

But nothing feels more right than this. So he cups the back of Taehyung’s neck and kisses him properly.

—

There’s a faint rustling from his side. A person-sized weight that keeps tugging at his blanket. Jeongguk groans and pulls before moving to the side. He huffs in annoyance at the resistance, tugging it harder to hoard more of the blanket. 

In his groggy, sleep-induced state, he makes a mental note to hide the ac remote when Taehyung comes over. As much as he loves Taehyung’s company, Jeongguk can’t understand his need to make the room temperature as low as possible. 

Sure, the cold doesn’t bother him that much, but waking up blanketless with freezing feet isn’t something Jeongguk looks forward to in the mornings. 

“Jeongguk I’m cold,” Taehyung groans sleepily. His voice is still slurred and heavy with sleep. Tone deeper than usual (the best thing Jeongguk wakes up to). 

He resists his boyfriend’s complaints and pulls the blanket harshly. Ending their game of tug of war once and for all. A great battle this morning with Jeongguk coming out victorious. He smiles.

The smile grows wider when he feels the familiar warmth of Taehyung’s body pressed behind him. Cocooning him in a side hug as Taehyung leans his forehead on Jeongguk’s shoulder. He feels Taehyung press a quick kiss to his scent gland before breathing in. Taehyung’s warm breath tickles his neck, but satisfaction blooms into a flower at the thought of Taehyung drunk in his scent. 

“I told you to set the temperature higher.” Jeongguk covers Taehyung’s hand on his waist with his. Pinching the skin lightly. “But you never listen to me and instead, steals my warm, comfortable, thick, 99% cotton blanket.” 

Taehyung chuckles, nuzzling closer to Jeongguk until his hair tickles the back of Jeongguk’s neck. It’s the most pleasant feeling to wake up to. 

A few weeks after they’ve made their relationship official, Taehyung has taken residence in Jeongguk’s apartment for the majority of the week. Claiming that it’s closer to his office from Jeongguk’s place anyway (it’s the same distance). Yoongi and Hoseok made it obvious that they were happy with the news by sending them two buckets of fried chicken, which they fail to finish and the alpha couple needed to stop by in the guise of ‘finishing them’. 

There’s already a new drawer by the bed that’s occupied by all of Taehyung’s things. Some of his tie collections have also made their way to Jeongguk’s closet, their socks mixed up in the laundry (Jeongguk had to wear a green one on the right and white on the left once) and Taehyung’s favorite mug is permanently next to his own every morning. 

The only difference is that Taehyung prefers ice cold water compared to Jeongguk’s never ending love for tea. 

He muffles a laugh when Taehyung refuses to move his nose from his neck. The blanket fight is all but forgotten by now. His wolf hums with glee when Jeongguk inhales deeply and catches the combined scent of theirs together. He loves scenting Taehyung—it’s what he does most of the time when they choose to laze around and cuddle on the weekends. 

So it doesn’t surprise him that Taehyung likes to do the same. It’s like their scents are intoxicating to each other. 

Taehyung mumbles something to his skin that Jeongguk can’t make out. 

“Hm?” Jeongguk asks.

“I said,” Taehyung pulls away and hooks his chin on Jeongguk’s shoulder. His lips touch Jeongguk’s ears with each word he says. “Do you know what you smell to me?” 

“What?” 

He turns around to face Taehyung. Up close, his beauty is a sight to see. 

“Home.” Taehyung brings a hand to brush his hair. “You smell like home to me.”