Work Text:
The fluorescent lights of the convenience store burn harshly against the stark white floor tiles, slowly but surely aggravating the steadily building headache between his temples.
Even so, Hyunjin keeps his gaze angled downward as steadfastly as he can, because his senses are still too heightened to handle the agony of looking up at the products on the shelves, bleeding color like strobes in an overly loud night club.
In his periphery, the hot pink of rose-and-grapefruit scented shampoo mocks him from where it stands tall, presiding over the scattered rainbow of bar soaps in the bins directly below it. The smell of them wouldn’t usually bother him, but coming down from the rush of post-sex pheromones, reflex tears gather in his eyes, stinging his dry and too-sensitive eyes.
He stalks out of the aisle, dragging his feet in what Seungmin would call a masochistic way of prolonging his current suffering at the situation, but Hyunjin is of the opinion that endlessly wallowing in his own stupidity is a great character-building activity.
(Maybe next time, he’ll actually think about the consequences of his actions. Maybe, he supposes, there won’t be a next time. That would certainly be ideal.)
Also, he doesn’t particularly feel like doing the walk of shame up to his sixth-floor apartment at four in the morning, even if the only person likely to see him is the ever-present doorman in the lobby. He’s judgmental looking enough in the daylight, with his old man wrinkles and a barbed, superficial smile always at the ready.
Hyunjin pulls his scarf tighter around his neck, tries not to think too hard about the hickeys he’s surely been left with, and comes to stand in front of the thing he’s here for in the first place.
He pushes his gaze up with enormous effort, inch by painful inch until he sees it - the innocuous pale blue packaging to his simultaneous salvation and his ruin - the dreaded morning after pill.
The words ‘emergency contraceptive’ jump out at him in silent accusation, and he resists the urge to wince, to turn tail and run away, and hope to god nothing happens. Hope his life stays nice and normal and uninterrupted. That his belly stays forever flat, and he can keep pretending he never sleeps with strangers smaller than him in a sad attempt to hold on to something that was never really his to begin with.
But the rational side of him knows he can’t take the chance. Hyunjin steels himself and takes the forward-most package, not bothering to glance at the price. It doesn’t matter. At this point, nothing matters except getting home.
(Once he’s home, he’ll be warm and secure in the comfort of his nest. The clothes he’s acquired from his friends are freshly worn, and anticipation is beginning to build in his throat.)
He brings the package close to him, presses it against his chest and takes a deep, steadying breath.
A sense of heated embarrassment blooms underneath his still vaguely sweaty skin, and the sudden difference between his internal and external temperatures triggers a violent shiver throughout his body. He loses his grip on the box, and it falls to the floor with a dull thunk.
Hyunjin just about combusts on the spot. Stupid trembling body. Stupid omega instincts.
Angry at himself, he snatches the box from the floor roughly, and rushes out of the aisle, shaking.
He makes it to check out and decidedly does not make eye contact with the person behind the counter.
The cashier - a female beta with short hair and wearing a black face mask - looks between Hyunjin and the box significantly. Mercifully, social etiquette keeps her from saying anything other than his purchase total. He gives her a tight smile as he fishes several ten thousand won bills from his wallet.
Hyunjin laments that the person who knows him in his most vulnerable state is not a mother, a partner, or even a best friend. Rather, a tired cashier working the graveyard shift whose name he won’t remember once he leaves is the one who knows his most intimate secrets at this moment.
When she hands him the receipt, and he steps outside, he’s cold in a way that has nothing to do with the wintertime. He curls his icy fingers into his sleeves and huffs, feeling defeated.
He’s always cold these days.
-/-
Twenty minutes later Hyunjin is home, staring down at the tiny pill next to the glass of water where he’s placed them on the coffee table.
He’s slowly sinking into the plush cushions of his couch, trying to summon his courage.
He wonders why he’s here again, and remembers the hard door against his back, the handle digging painfully into his hip, the residual sting on his scalp from tugging hands, and the first impulsive decision to nose his head too close to a stranger’s neck.
Maybe he’s more self-destructive than he realized.
As soon as he has the thought, he jumps forward, takes the pill and downs it with water. He’s wrong about himself. He has to be.
Regret ripples through him almost as soon as he’s swallowed, but it doesn’t feel like his own. It belongs to something - someone? - deeper within him. A primal instinct, foreign and inert in most aspects of his daily life. He hates it, intensely.
Hyunjin stands, wobbly, and disappears into his bedroom in search of his nest. He sleeps for the rest of the day.
-/-
He wakes to a dark sky. A tap to his phone screen tells him it’s late in the evening and he’s momentarily annoyed for wasting the day away before the nausea rolls in.
He curls into himself with the sudden force of it and whimpers pathetically. A quiet little sound in the back of his throat that brings back all the terrible feelings he’d been trying to escape.
Fuck, he should’ve realized there’d be side effects.
Hyunjin takes deep breaths through his nose and stays very still. Less than a minute passes before he’s scrambling out of his nest bed and into the bathroom to dry heave into the sink. His nails press painfully into his palms from where he’s fisted his hands against the counter.
He spits, disgusted, and turns back to lean heavily against the wall and slides slowly to the floor.
Guilt settles and pools in his gut. He bites at his lower lip with agitation, willing away the thoughts of what if floating through his brain. Shame gnaws at his bones, buzzing, debilitating.
He should call someone. Logically, Hyunjin knows he should go and pick up his phone and tell someone what he did, what happened and what’s still happening. Isolation has never been his friend and his body wants to be taken care of right now. To be held innocently, and to be loved the way he was meant to be. Seungmin or Minho would do it if he asked. Even Chan wouldn’t hesitate.
(But he thinks of the rings on his left hand, of the person he wants, maybe even needs, comfort from - not just now, but all the time. The words we’re a couple echo in his ears. Briefly, he wonders if the jewelry means as much to both of them. He shakes those thoughts away, too.)
Instead, Hyunjin swipes his mouth against his wrist, and goes to email his client about a delay in their commission.
He drinks more water, strips down to nothing, and stands in his shower long enough to get rid of all the traces of unfamiliar hands on him (smaller than his but still too big to maintain his delusions).
He goes to sleep swaddled in a hoodie of Jisung’s that’s too tight around the shoulders, but he feels slightly better than before.
As he breathes in the scent of hazelnut chocolate, dark, rich, and sweet; he feels at peace - if only for a little while.
-/-
This time, Hyunjin wakes up hungry.
Weak winter sunlight filters through the windows as he makes his way to the kitchen, craving comfort food.
He moves without thinking, letting muscle memory take over as he grabs a plate from there, a fruit from here, a knife, and the wooden cutting board Changbin gave him as a housewarming gift three years ago.
Hyunjin peels the banana in his hands, sets the peel aside, and takes comfort in the smell.
He begins to cut it the way he remembers being taught by far more experienced hands, set over top of his. Tiny and guiding. Gentle, even in their reprimands.
The sight of it triggers a memory - a bruise on his soul still soft and tender to the touch. This unwitting press breaks something quiet inside him, and he feels tears gather quickly in his eyes.
They spill over with the next slice of the knife through the pale flesh of the fruit, and he’s forced to stop before the shake in his limbs causes injury. He throws the knife to the side and wrings his hands, frustrated.
He wishes he could stop. He wishes the gaping hole in his chest where a person used to live would just fucking close already because he’s so tired of trying to fill it up. It feels too big, too endless for his body.
Hyunjin, dizzy with desperation, reaches for his phone.
-/-
They’re closer than friends should be, and they know it. But it’s almost too easy not to care.
Hyunjin has known Felix since they were eighteen. Felix, new to Korea, and to Seoul, still stumbling over foreign words but trying so, so hard was sweet, caring, and sunshine in human form. He loved to love - never thought twice about offering post-workout massages after their dance classes, stayed up to bake cupcakes for all their birthdays and graduation parties without fail, took care of Minho’s three cats when their hyung had been away for a semester abroad - and Hyunjin loved him in the close way omegas form bonds with each other. It was like the way Hyunjin loved Jisung, in the beginning.
Now, years from graduation, Hyunjin is an artist that works with his hands and Felix is an artist that works with his body. A painter and a dancer made from the same kind of mold.
It starts with a painting. Then everything snowballs from there.
Hyunjin receives a commission that specifically requests him to use a model. Usually, he’d just take a reference photo of himself or his friends and paint a subject from photos provided by the client, so he’s pleasantly surprised to be given so much creative freedom.
He doesn’t think twice before asking Felix if he’s willing to sit for him. Hyunjin used Felix as a subject more than once for his university classes, and he’s familiar with the angles of his face, the curves of his smiling eyes, and the hard, muscled lines of his body.
Felix is his favorite model, and he’s a good one, too. Patient and pliant, doesn’t speak unless spoken to, and so, so beautiful.
Felix says yes, says it’s always an honor Hyunjinnie, you know I love it when you make me into art and Hyunjin melts a little. He’s pleased he gets to see Felix like this. Almost says to him you’re already art, you don’t need me for that.
They spend a lot of time together, for the painting. A beautiful piece really, maybe not his most precise or most raw but certainly the piece he’d call his magnum opus - Felix, sprawled prettily over an armchair, legs thrown wide and looking out the open window; Felix, mouth parted slightly in surprise, fingers laden with rings and one hand curling against his jaw; Felix, in loose, flowing clothes, white button up undone three buttons down his chest; Felix, in the sun, blonde hair long and messy and brushing against his double helix piercings - what could be more important than this? Hyunjin is loath to give it away, but he consoles himself with the knowledge he can always paint another.
It takes him over fifty hours in the span of three weeks to be satisfied with it, and during those three weeks, Felix comes over almost every day.
They have to find time around his work schedule, so he shows up in the evening and stays until midnight. It worries Hyunjin that Felix goes home alone so late, but the other assures him the short walk from the train station to his apartment is no big deal.
Except, the sessions start running later, (and maybe Hyunjin is to blame for this, maybe he gets distracted with how easy it is to lose himself in painting the details of Felix’s lips just right) late enough for Felix to miss the last train and then Hyunjin insists he really can’t go home.
(“Just stay over for the night; it’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before.”
“But I didn’t bring any clothes.”
“You can borrow some of mine.”
“…okay.”)
So, Felix sleeps over once. Then one more time. Then, all of a sudden, he never seems to leave.
Even after the painting is finished and Felix photographs it to hell and back, he doesn’t stop coming over.
He comes straight to Hyunjin’s apartment after work, commandeers the shower, and then makes dinner if he suspects Hyunjin’s forgotten to eat.
Nine times out of ten he does it dressed in one of Hyunjin’s oversized pajama shirts, and the way their scents mix - Felix’s overwhelmingly sweet smell of birthday cake undercut by Hyunjin’s subtler perfume of blooming roses - makes his head spin in the best way possible. It’s intoxicating, and Hyunjin never wants it to fade away.
Their friends notice the newfound closeness, of course, and make more than a few lighthearted insinuations about the exact nature of their relationship. Hyunjin just flushes and waves them off because it’s not like Felix never goes home. They spend their heats apart, and Hyunjin needs to be alone for his work sometimes.
He can’t deny the way Felix has permeated his life and his space, though. He can’t deny that he likes it when they cuddle each other on the couch to watch movies both of them really love, hands settling over thighs, or tenderly smoothing back hair, excited whispers ghosting over sensitive skin. He likes it when they curl up together in bed, and scent each other, stupidly intimate, soothing one another into sleep.
They kiss sometimes, because they can. Because it doesn’t have to mean anything. Quick little pecks on the cheek here and there as a good morning, good night, nice to see you again.
Hyunjin still sleeps with other people, and he knows for a fact Felix does too. It’s fine, because they’re not together. It’s fine, it doesn’t matter. Really, he swears it doesn’t.
(If he dyes his hair blonde because Felix did it first and made an offhand comment that went something like:
“I think you’d look good blonde, too, Hyunjinnie.”
“Really? Ah, maybe I’ll end up doing it.”
“Then we’ll match,” and he smiled, his whole face the picture of contentment, laugh lines standing out like paths to the stars in his eyes.
Then that’s a secret he’ll take to his grave.)
-/-
Felix picks up on the third ring, before Hyunjin can realize just how bad of a decision it is. He hasn’t talked to Felix in over eight months.
But even so, he doesn’t hang up before Felix has a chance to speak.
“Hyunjin? Hello? Is everything okay?"
And hell, eight months of nothing and the first thing Felix does is ask if things are okay? Hyunjin loves him so much it hurts. Relief at hearing his familiar low timbre rushes into his chest, filling the hole he left behind just a little, just enough to ease the longing.
“Yongbokkie,” he breathes out, harshly, and he winces at how evident it is that he's been crying.
“Oh, baby, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
The words are in English and are bleeding concern. Hyunjin worries his lower lip between his teeth, and looks down at the fingers of his left hand. He’s wearing a familiar set of rings - one light, one dark - that he hasn’t taken off since he bought a matching pair. The nickname is so achingly, achingly familiar.
(He wonders what Felix would think if he told him that in the privacy of his own home, Hyunjin wears the rings on the third finger of his left hand. The part of his brain in turmoil is sure he would call Hyunjin delusional. But the smaller, hopeful part of him thinks maybe Felix would smile fondly and tease him for being sentimental.)
He hesitates, because he knows this will hurt both of them, but eventually, he speaks. “I slept with someone.” A pause. “Unprotected.”
Silence. Hyunjin can hear the unspoken question buzzing in his ears.
He bites his lip harder. “An alpha.” He can almost taste blood on his tongue. He stops, and licks his lips, self-soothing.
He hears Felix inhale sharply through the speaker and knows what he’ll say before he does.
“During your heat?”
“No, but…” he trails off, leaving his words to settle.
He’s still an omega, and the stranger was still an alpha. Yes, the chances of conceiving as a male omega are low even during heat - practically microscopic outside of it - but improbable doesn’t mean impossible. Felix would know that better than anyone.
He knows Felix must be going through the same thought process, so before the conversation can dip from ‘slightly uncomfortable’ to ‘seriously intolerable’ he tells Felix about yesterday.
“I took an emergency contraceptive. And now I feel awful in more ways than one.” The strain in his words betrays him.
“Oh,” Felix says carefully. “Oh.” His voice colors with understanding.
“Yeah,” Hyunjin says thickly. “Oh.”
Felix, ever attuned to the dips in Hyunjin’s moods, hears the sadness bubbling in his chest. His voice is soft and gentle when he speaks.
“Hey, listen to me, okay? If you didn’t want the possibility of a baby, then that’s your decision to make. It’s okay for your instincts to grieve what might have been, but you’re so much more than your status. Your nature doesn’t control you, but it’s natural to feel conflicted. It’s a hard decision for anyone. I’m proud of you for doing what’s best for you, okay?”
The tears are back in full force, and Hyunjin wipes harshly at his eyes. He feels raw and exhausted, but most of all, he feels seen.
“Thank you,” he whispers, when he really means to say I love you.
“Anytime,” comes the reply, and Hyunjin can almost hear the me too, I love you so much it’s a weight in my hands. I don’t know how to put it down. I don’t think I want to.
Hyunjin closes his eyes, and he imagines Felix does the same. He imagines the omega’s soft, freckled face bathed by the sunlight of the rising dawn, stark against his white pillowcase because Felix doesn’t get up before ten on weekends if he can help it. He imagines stupidly delicate eyelashes brushing against the expanse of the other’s tan skin, his lips pressing together in a pout - a constant, unwitting imitation of a baby chick, or maybe a songbird.
He gets lost in his memories.
-/-
Eventually, the lines between them blur to the point of carelessness.
One night, Hyunjin wakes up flushed, sweaty, and with an ache in his limbs, and realizes he’s in pre-heat.
Okay, he reasons, this isn’t too bad. He just needs to stay calm and handle this responsibly.
He extricates himself as carefully as he can from Felix’s loose grasp around his waist, murmuring apologies when he stirs and whines slightly in his sleep.
Cute, thinks Hyunjin, and then shaking his head, focus Hyunjin.
He strips out of his sweaty pajamas and changes into fresh, comfortable clothes. Then he slips into his bathroom and rummages in the cabinet for what he needs.
He quickly finds the baby wipes, and the scent blocker gel (the expensive kind, so he knows it’ll last). He cleans his face, neck, and shoulders with the wipes, then squeezes a generous amount of gel onto his hands. Gently, he massages it along the scent glands where his shoulders meet his neck, wincing at how tender they already feel.
“Hyunjinnie?” comes a sleepy voice from behind him.
Hyunjin yelps in surprise, whirls around and presses close to the sink counter for safety, clutching at his chest.
Felix just blinks slowly and leans against the doorframe heavily. “What are you doing?"
“Yongbokkie.” He waits for his heart rate to come back down from its spike. “Did I wake you?”
Felix ignores him in favor of stepping in and leaning up to sniff him. “Are those scent blockers?”
Hyunjin pouts and shoves at him a little, attempting playfulness, “Rude.”
Felix just raises an eyebrow. It’s more intimidating than it has any right to be.
Hyunjin slumps and relents “Yeah, they are.” He sighs. “My pre-heat just started, and I didn’t want to completely overwhelm the apartment with the smell until after you left. I was going to wake you soon.”
It’s Felix’s turn to frown now. He hesitates, shifting, then asks with his eyes wide, “Do you want me to go?”
Hyunjin’s heart stutters in his chest and his throat goes dry. “Oh, well… it’s just that we usually spend our heats apart.”
Felix’s hands find his and he holds them in between their bodies - the gesture so close to tender, it's disorienting. “But do you want me to go?”
Hyunjin huffs quietly, giving in. “No.”
Felix squeezes his hands once, then smiles at Hyunjin like they’ve just shared a secret no one else in the world knows, or will ever know.
-/-
The first day is par for the course. Felix calls in a couple of personal days for work, then smothers him in blankets as his temperature climbs into the range of true heat, and he makes sure Hyunjin takes painkillers for the cramps every four hours. They pile into the loveseat in the living room and switch on a classic American film. Pride and Prejudice, intones Felix, and Hyunjin loves the way the words are so easy rolling off his tongue. It’s nice, and Hyunjin can almost completely forget about the on-edge feeling that’s started in his gut, the ever-present smell of roses, thick and cloying.
The second day is always the worst for him. Hyunjin’s fever reaches its high point. He sweats through his clothes every couple of hours and has to have Felix help him cycle through all the nice, comfy clothes in his dresser. He appreciates how gentle Felix is with his aching limbs. A warm, fuzzy feeling spreads through his body.
By noon, Hyunjin feels well and truly hot-and-bothered. It’s nothing he isn’t used to, but it feels awkward to be so tightly wound in front of Felix for the first time.
Felix, who brings him bowls of fresh fruit in between meals so he’s never hungry, banana pieces cut into little star shapes with great care, apple slices without their peels, and orange slices with the fleshy bits diligently removed. Who, when asked about going to such lengths, just shrugs and says it’s how I like it - I’m sensitive about my fruit during heats.
Felix who feeds Hyunjin ice cubes, fingers sliding gingerly over his cold lips, and asks, as casually as if he was asking for the time, if Hyunjin would like some privacy to - and here he makes an obscene gesture with his tiny hands that makes Hyunjin flush in embarrassment.
He shakes his head furiously while Felix laughs, the little devil, but really, he’s fine without that, it’s perfectly bearable, thank you very much.
(“Don’t blush so hard, it’s natural!"
“You’re the worst.”)
When his fever breaks and his heat comes to an end on the third day, Felix presses a gentle kiss to his forehead and murmurs into his skin. “I’ll take care of you, okay Hyunjinnie? Always.”
-/-
The sound of a baby crying, high and shrill, interrupts his reminiscing.
“Oh shit, sorry but I’ve got to go,” Felix says, tone apologetic but distracted. Then more vulnerable, "But hey, don’t be a stranger, yeah? I miss talking to you.”
“Okay,” Hyunjin agrees, and is surprised to know he means it. “I’ll call you soon.”
He hangs up and realizes he’s still standing in his kitchen. The banana has gone mushy in front of him, and his stomach aches with hunger.
Hyunjin sighs to himself.
He discards the fruit, calls Seungmin as he’s getting dressed (hey Minnie, sorry for calling so early do you think I could come over for breakfast I’ve been having kind of a rough time no I’m fine I promise oh you’ll ask Minho-hyung sure just text me), then calls to make an appointment with his doctor as he’s walking through the door.
-/-
Hyunjin should have known there was something wrong. Felix has been acting weird all week. He hasn’t come to dinner once, he’s been jumpy and nervous, and his scent is… different somehow. Muted, maybe - definitely distressed.
Even now sitting in front of everyone, with Chan's knuckles rubbing calming circles into his back, Felix is twisting his rings, fiddling anxiously with his hands.
An air of anticipation hangs between everyone, respectfully staying quiet while Felix gathers himself, but expectation for an explanation is thick between them.
In the end, there is no preamble.
Felix looks up, face pinched, and says simply, “I’m pregnant.”
Then the world ends. In a flash of lighting with a bang that comes from nowhere. In a flood that wipes away every last trace of civilization. In a nuclear explosion that cracks the earth open, leaving it to bleed out in a hemorrhage of molten rock.
Or rather, Hyunjin, feels his heart stop and his blood turn thick in his veins, stunned into silence even as the rest of the group breaks out into surprised murmurs and hesitant questions.
His head jumps to crazed conclusions - Chan. Chan is an alpha. Chan is close to Felix. Chan is holding onto Felix like his life depends on it. Could he be...? - Hyunjin shakes the thought from his head. Chan has been in a loving, committed relationship with Changbin since university. They’re mated, and Changbin is proposing in the summer. He’s shown Hyunjin the rings. Besides, Hyunjin would have smelled it on Felix if they had been sleeping together. Chan’s scent is strong and hard to mistake - freshly ground coffee, warm and bitter.
“Is this good news for you?” Minho asks at the same time Jisung blurts “Who’s the other parent?”
Felix snorts slightly at the drastically different responses and taps his fingers on the table, considering his reply.
“The other parent was a one-night stand.” He grimaces. “I don’t know who they are.”
Hyunjin isn’t sure if that makes him feel better or worse about the whole situation.
Felix leans back in his seat and attempts a smile. “But it is good news. I’ve decided to have the baby.” A shadow flickers over his face. “If there’s no complications, of course.”
“Right,” says Seungmin softly. “Congratulations, Felix. We’re happy for you.”
“Thank you,” Felix returns easily, and it seems genuine, but there is still something off, something uneasy about his smile.
Hyunjin reaches under the table to hold on to the sleeve of the person next to him. Changbin, to his credit, doesn’t react aside from a quick glance in his direction. Hyunjin shakes his head almost imperceptibly, and Changbin leaves it alone.
“There’s something else, though,” Felix continues. He reaches back to grip one of Chan’s hands, and Hyunjin’s stomach drops.
“My mom suggested I move back home when I told her. And I agreed.” He briefly makes eye contact with Hyunjin, so quickly that if Hyunjin had blinked, he’d have missed it.
Their corner of the cafe falls silent.
Then:
“To Australia?”
Jisung again, expression of disbelief mirrored on the faces around the table.
Hyunjin sees Felix nod once, with all the certainty in the world and can’t stop himself from asking, “Why?”
It’s the first real thing he’s said to Felix all week, and he sounds just as shocked as Jisung but there’s also a deeper note, just below the surface.
Felix looks at him with surprise, nose scrunching up in confusion as he studies Hyunjin. In fact, everyone gapes at him, at his audacity, even though they must all be thinking the same thing.
(Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Minho looking at him with sympathy in his eyes. Hyunjin burns with annoyance.)
“Well, I need the support of my parents, back home. I need to be close to - to my family.”
Back home. What is Seoul then? What were the last seven years? Just a pit stop?
Hyunjin opens his mouth again, emotion pouring out of him, too open, too obvious but for a second, he doesn’t care what the others might think. “I thought we were your family,” is what comes out, barbed with aggression, with disbelief. I thought I was your family, is what he doesn’t say.
Seungmin kicks him under the table, but he hardly feels it.
All he can focus on is the searing pool of betrayal, hurt, devastation burning acidic on his tongue, giving fire to his words.
Felix goes tense under his stare, his shoulders setting into a rigid line and Hyunjin barely has time to regret his thoughtlessness before Chan is interrupting. “Okay, listen Hyunjin, you’re clearly upsetting him so we’re going to press pause on this conversation until you’ve calmed down a bit, yeah? Maybe you can continue this later, in private.”
Chan looks at him significantly, eyebrows drawn and heavy on his brow. Hyunjin manages to meet his stare head-on for three seconds before he slumps, almost against his will.
“Okay,” he relents, “later.”
He doesn’t see Felix again, before he boards the flight that takes him far away from the only home Hyunjin’s ever known.
All he gets is a text message a year later with a photo attached, and four words beneath it.
bbokie
> [sent an image]
> his name is jeongin
you
he’s beautiful <
-/-
Breakfast with Seungmin and Minho is nice - full of loud jokes, laughter, and good food.
Hyunjin’s smiles feel more real, and he feels lighter than he has since the pill, even with the lingering fatigue. If he’s really honest with himself, he feels lighter than he has since Felix left. If he’s honest with himself, he can admit talking to Felix was just the first step.
So, eyes still sparkling and encouraged by good company, he declares to the table: “I’m in love with Felix.”
Minho stops in between mouthfuls, forkful of eggs half-way to his lips. Seungmin chokes on his water. Coughing, he waves off Hyunjin’s attempts to pat him on the back, and instead wheezes out, “Oh my god. We know.”
Hyunjin sits back and pouts. “What do you mean you know? I didn’t even know until recently.”
Minho puts down his fork and looks at him incredulously. “Hwang Hyunjin. Do you mean to tell me you two were never together? Not at all?”
Hyunjin sputters, “No! I told you as much!”
Seungmin, recovered from his coughing fit, exclaims, “But you acted like a couple! You two were worse than Channie-hyung and Binnie! You practically lived together, for god’s sake. And you didn’t know you loved him?”
“No! I mean - it was - it was just. Easy, I guess. Natural,” Hyunjin squirms in his seat a little because god that does sound stupid, doesn’t it? “We never talked about it.”
Both pairs of eyes on him soften in tandem. It’s almost creepy how in sync they are.
“Oh, Hyunjin,” Seungmin sighs, exasperated but still fond.
Minho reaches across the table and takes one of his hands. “How long have you been hurting for, Hyunjinnie?”
-/-
He waits a few days before reaching out again.
you
are you busy?
bbokie
not right now
did you need something?
you
can you call?
His phone buzzes in his hands. He picks up, a fine tremor going through his fingers.
Before he can lose his nerve, Hyunjin states simply, “You love me.” It comes out far more fragile than he intended.
A moment passes in silence before Felix responds. “I do.”
The tension in Hyunjin’s body melts away, and he takes a deep breath. He gives himself a moment to process then softly says, “Can we talk, finally?”
Felix is quiet again for so long that for a second, Hyunjin thinks the connection must have dropped.
“Yeah, we should talk,” comes his voice, and it sounds tired.
Hyunjin swallows his despair at being the cause and asks, “Do you still have the rings I gave you?”
“Is that really what you want to talk about?”
“No, but,” he starts, and studies his own set, laden with memories. “Humor me?”
“...Yeah, I do. I wear them all the time.”
“All the time?”
“Never take them off.”
Hyunjin bites his lip. “Okay. Good to know.”
Felix hums on the other end.
“Why did you really leave Korea?” He hears himself form the question but he’s drifting, preparing for the worst.
Felix sighs, but he’d been expecting it. He’d been expecting it since Hyunjin first called.
“I don’t know, Hyunjinnie. I thought I needed distance.”
“From me?” The thought pains him, but he has to ask. Otherwise, he’ll go crazy wondering.
“From us. From… whatever we were doing. It was so confusing and - and I thought I needed space. For clarity.”
Space, Hyunjin thinks bitterly. Two years and eight thousand kilometers worth?
But he recognizes it’s not a productive thought and focuses elsewhere. He didn’t miss Felix’s usage of the past tense.
“And now?”
“Now… Now I think that maybe I just wanted you to ask me to stay. To say you wanted something more, something permanent.” His voice is shaking, Hyunjin notices. He presses a palm against his chest at a spike of pain, acknowledging this isn’t an easy conversation. For either of them.
“Even before the baby?”
“Yeah. Even before him.”
Hyunjin leans back into his couch, letting himself be consumed. “Oh.”
“Mhm. Oh.”
“I guess you want to know why I didn’t. Ask, I mean.”
There’s shuffling on the other end. “I can take a guess.”
Hyunjin huffs and narrows his eyes, attempting lightheartedness. “Let’s hear it, then.”
“Well… before me, you’d only had two long-term relationships, and those both ended pretty badly. Before me, you’d never been with another omega - because how unconventional, huh? Before me… you’d never had feelings for any close friends.”
Oh shit. He wasn’t ready for this. Not at all. Tears well up in his eyes, so he tips his head up and blinks repeatedly, willing them to go away. He tries for a joke:
“Not never, remember I told you about Seungmin? In high school?” His voice is noticeably watery.
Felix laughs quietly. “Okay - serious feelings, then. And, Seungmin is a beta.”
With a quiet gasp, Hyunjin pushes through the tears and says, “You’re right, about everything. I’m sorry. I didn’t know how - how to -” progress from where we started. Kiss you for real without being afraid. Take your hand and tell you to stay not just for the night, but to stay forever.
“Hey,” Felix calls, firm but gentle. “It wasn’t just you. I’m sorry as well. For never saying anything. For waiting so long. For not making things real.”
“No.” Hyunjin wipes the wet tracks from his cheeks. “Things were real. It - it was all real. Even if we didn’t say it.”
“Okay,” Felix says. It’s barely a whisper.
They sit in silence for a few minutes, just listening to each other breathe, until Felix has to leave.
-/-
you
what are you up to, these days?
bbokie
well
a lot technically
but also not much of anything at all
you
tell me everything
i missed you
bbokie
[typing…]
i missed you too.