Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Alright, that's a wrap," the director called out. 

Yeosang bowed habitually with his members as they offered their thanks to the staff. The filming crew returned their bows with light applause. While the other members relaxed and dropped their on-camera personas, Yeosang’s tension skyrocketed. Silently, he faded into the background and tried to remain inconspicuous as the alphas did their routine check in with the team's omegas. Though fans were aware of their secondary genders, the group did their best to not showcase that dynamic too much. Unfortunately, this often resulted in pushing the omegas outside of their comfort zones. 

The day shooting had been particularly stimulating, so much so that even he as a beta was feeling overwhelmed. His senses were running haywire, heart palpitating and palms sweating. He knew his limits and this was not an anxiety attack he could simply talk himself through. He roughly wiped his damp palms on his pants before crouching down in a dark corner of the studio, eyes desperately seeking out the alphas. Yeosang watched from the sidelines with familiar jealousy as the omegas were doted on. He hurriedly erected a mental barrier as a pang of loneliness he couldn't smother echoed through his chest, filling his eyes with moisture. 

Yeosang first observed Hongjoong. The Captain was standing in front of Wooyoung, guiding him through breathing exercises. Yunho was not too far away, hugging Mingi comfortingly as he whispered words Yeosang yearned to hear. On the opposite side of the room, San was gently calming a pacing Seonghwa. Jongho was the only free Alpha, sitting near the exit with his eyes hooded as he watched over the others. Yeosang stared at him longingly as his palpitations grew fiercer. He swallowed harshly, pushing down the name on the tip of his tongue. Jongho would find it odd. After all, Yeosang was expected to be self-sufficient.

He tore his eyes away and glanced at the other alphas carefully. 

Yunho and San weren't giving him much to work with so he turned his full attention to Hongjoong, secretly watching his hands and following the breathing motions he was guiding Wooyoung through. Thankfully, Hongjoong's breathing tactics were effective and his anxiety eased, leaving him overwhelmingly despondent. He stood shakily and made his way to Jongho in preparation for heading home.

In the beginning, back when he had first presented as a beta, Yeosang had spent many nights cursing his orientation. Everyone who knew him had expected him to present as an omega due to his innate characteristics. Initially, their change in behaviour towards him had given him whiplash. He’d spent his whole life being treated one way only to have the rug pulled out from under his feet following his presentation. Yeosang had nearly drowned, overwhelmed with the sudden expectation of independence. Overnight, he'd gone from being treated gently to being left to fend for himself both physically and mentally. He’d grit his teeth and bore it, never one to unnecessarily cause a fuss. His secondary gender meant it was something he could bear, even if he felt like he was falling apart. So, as the years passed, Yeosang had learned to just painfully accept it.

He was a beta and he was to be treated as one.

Yeosang’s only reprieve came on camera and so he had willingly thrown himself into their work. Before presenting, fans had labelled him as soft and in need of protection and coddling and so the company had requested they play it up a bit for publicity even after they had all reached maturity. San and Wooyoung took to it the easiest with Seonghwa and Jongho close behind. Of course, Yeosang could no longer cling to them as he had previously, caged in the role of an aloof beta. Thankfully, the member's tenacity had become popular amongst fans.

Yeosang secretly cherished those moments. The pack bonds which had grown increasingly painful over time were given a moment of reprieve with every hug. Out of the seven bonds, four constantly throbbed. He didn't know why his bonds with the alphas had withered beyond recognition but the pain had become a constant in his life, a dull ache that twisted and squeezed at his heart to the point that he could no longer sleep without taking painkillers. 

The pack bonds were still a mystery to Yeosang. Science said that every bond needed to be nurtured. There were different ways to nurture each bond, depending on the secondary gender. Alpha bonds were strengthened when they took care of others. Beta bonds relied heavily on emotional intimacy. Omegas relied majorly on physical touch. 

Yeosang took great care in trying to remain connected with his members. However, no matter what he did, the bonds with the alphas continued to deteriorate. It was odd, considering his sub-gender but the only time the pain lessened was when they were doting on him. Receiving enough affection on-screen sometimes even made sleeping without waking up every two hours for painkillers possible. Kisses lasted him even longer and so he prayed for the moments the members would fight his obligatory resistance.

Unfortunately, he hadn't gotten more than a hug from Yunho today. He could already feel the bonds shrivelling further as he followed them to the changing rooms. He blindly sought out Seonghwa's bond, seeking a little strength. Unfortunately, Seonghwa's barriers were up, blocking him from accessing his emotions. He withdrew pitifully and stood in close range to Jongho, relying on the calming energy the alpha naturally carried. Yeosang zoned out for a bit, mentally examining his bonds and contemplating whether he should just sever the withered ropes that caused him so much agony. His resilience had been worn down over the years and he found himself contemplating it far more frequently as the days passed. 

If he was being honest, things had been going downhill since debut. He'd been the second member to present, following Seonghwa's omega trait. Hongjoong had followed closely as an alpha with Jongho, surprisingly, weeks after. Mingi and Wooyoung presented as omegas the following month with San hot on their tails as an alpha. With four alphas, one beta, and three omegas, finding a new normal had been a challenge for all of them. It had taken time for them to find a rhythm as they navigated new heats and ruts together. The alphas grew more possessive and the omegas grew compliant, submitting to the whims of the alphas. And somehow, during that single year, Yeosang found himself almost an outsider in his group. He'd unknowingly been pushed to the edge of their social group, designated to a role he didn't fully identify with. Now, the only thing holding him back was that, when he cut the alpha ties, he would be torn from the omegas as well. The idea of losing all of them was too painful to bear, more so than the agonising alpha bonds.

"How's the suppressant working?" He overheard Jongho asking Wooyoung. He zoned back in to hear his friend's response.

"Could be better. Let's hurry home please," Wooyoung responded tightly as he lowered his barriers. The intensity of his suffering echoed through their bond, the discomfort making Yeosang’s skin feel too hot. He grimaced and rushed to grab his things, grateful when Wooyoung raised his barriers once again. The room buzzed with urgency as his members and staff rushed to get out quicker.

Their managers had parked the car in the garage to bypass their fans but some had thought ahead and were already staking out the back entrance when they emerged from the elevators. Yeosang ducked his head and moved with the group, careful not to get separated. He felt a familiar pair of hands grab his shoulders as San stepped up behind him, ushering him to the car. Yeosang worked hard to suppress a shiver as the alpha’s hands moved down his back to grip his waist. San’s behaviour always made Yeosang's stomach feel tight and gooey at the same time. The alpha took his duty as a pack protector seriously and had self-appointed himself to Yeosang when they were surrounded by outsiders. He claimed that an alpha still outranked a beta and it was his duty to make sure Yeosang was safe from fan alphas. He knew San only did this since Yeosang was even worse than the omegas at upholding his own boundaries when it came to strangers but it still made him feel cherished. 

Yeosang knew he was different. As a beta, San’s behaviour should have made him feel uncomfortable yet he secretly revelled in it. All of his beta friends hated it when their alpha friends tried to assert any form of dominance over them but it just made Yeosang feel safe and flustered. 

The feeling of safety vanished the second they entered their van. In his excitement of being safeguarded by San, he'd forgotten about Wooyoung's impending heat and the unwritten rules of the pack. Yeosang had almost sat in his usual seat when San growled and yanked him back by the collar of his shirt. His beta shuddered in fear, curling in on itself. 

"I'll sit with him," San said lightly, climbing in first and heading to the backseat. 

“Sorry.” Yeosang mumbled as goosebumps covered Yeosang's arms. 

Yeosang’s beta was his greatest mystery. His high school teachers had explained their sub-genders as a physical entity; something deeply primal that sat deep in their chest. Beta's were supposed to be confident, friendly, and laid back. Yeosang's beta hadn't gotten the memo though. He was anxious, shy, and extremely tense. And nothing made his beta more anxious and tense than the possessive growls of the alphas as they claimed their territory.

“It’s okay, cutie,” San smiled, crescents replacing his eyes. Yeosang smiled back weakly. The gap between the deep growl and the light-hearted interactions that followed always played games with Yeosang's psyche. 

When this had first started, he'd just assumed it to be a joke and would respond with a light eye roll as he backed off to appease his beta's innate anxiety. He would blush darkly, a natural response due to his beta's primal response but he managed to play it off as just being flustered rather than frightened. However, the alphas had remained consistent. The growl's had grown deeper and more menacing, shaking him up from the inside out. Now, the sound filled him with visceral fear, his stomach cramping with nausea and his heart thundering as adrenaline coursed through him.

Yeosang sat down in the front seat and stared ahead blankly, taking thin breaths so the others wouldn't hear him hyperventilating. The ride home was filled with heavy silence. The intense scent emanating from Wooyoung had their alpha manager and the present alpha members on edge. Wooyoung normally smelt like freshly baked cinnamon but, during his heats, the scent became overwhelmingly sweet. Yeosang was almost grateful that he wasn't as heavily affected by the omegas heats. While their smell was alluring, it didn't drive him crazy like it did the alphas.

Unfortunately for him, the scent triggered something else entirely. Intense feelings of abandonment and fear. Yeosang teetered on the edge whenever a pack member went through a heat or a rut. The easygoing camaraderie vanished as the alphas and omegas allowed their more primal instincts to surface. During these times, he became an outsider and had to remember to tread carefully. When they finally arrived at their building, the pack entered through the backdoor again and waited for the elevator in silence. 

Though all three dorms were in the same building, they were all on separate floors. To negate this distance, the third bedroom in the YunSang dorm had been designated the pack’s Nestin Room. It was meant to be a space that belonged to all of them but it had very quickly become the designated heat and rut room. Sometimes, the pack would take his sheets to add to the overall scent of the Nest but they never invited him in. Seonghwa said it made the pack feel complete even if Yeosang was not physically present. Soon, the only time he found himself within those four walls was if it was his turn for clean-up duty. 

Today was no different. Yeosang watched as the seven members headed straight for the pack room. He made eye contact with Mingi as he shut the door behind him, the rapper smiling and winking playfully before he shut the door with a deafening click.

Alone in a full house, Yeosang sighed heavily. He wanted nothing more than to curl up under his sheets and sleep the pain away but the withered bonds were throbbing incessantly. He propped up his full barriers, shutting the pack out completely rather than just hiding his own emotions. He hated feeling the thrums of their pleasure and contentment. Tiredly, he popped a couple of painkillers and sleeping pills before setting about his nightly routine as he waited for the pills to kick in so he could finally lie down. 

Halfway through, someone knocked on his door. Yeosang sighed to himself as he stood from his vanity and grabbed the oversized hoodie he had been wearing all day. Hongjoong was waiting outside his bedroom door, his woodsy scent almost completely drowned out by Wooyoung’s spicy cinnamon. He held out his sweater, wondering if this would be the last time Wooyoung needed him like this. Hongjoong thanked him and wished him a good night before disappearing back down the hall, leaving him alone once again.

Once he was done with his skincare routine, Yeosang headed to the kitchen and pulled out a tray. He placed two stacks of cups and a large water jug on it and carried it to the pack room. Moving some of the decor, Yeosang carefully placed the tray down on the slim table near the bedroom door. Someone would come out for it after the first wave of Wooyoung's heat receded. Yeosang returned to the kitchen and set about making a snack tray as well. They would be hungry too. By the time he had finished, he still wasn't feeling tired enough to sleep through the pain. With a defeated sigh, he slipped under his sheets.

Curled up in bed, he picked up his phone and opened Twitter. He scrolled for a bit before he gave in to temptation and searched for his own name. The first video that popped up was of San. The ATINY who posted it was gushing over how San had chosen him back as the cutest member of ATEEZ. He'd done one more and teased the fans, claiming ownership of the beta. Yeosang closed the app and put his phone down, heart sinking in his chest. He couldn't do this anymore. He was just so tired of this act. His heart couldn't handle the difference in his relationships with the members on camera versus off camera. He knew it was their job to make them look like a solid unit to the fans and maybe it wouldn't have bothered him if they all treated each other differently off-camera as well.

But it was only him.

Perhaps it was because he didn't experience heats and ruts like they did that they had come to some unspoken understanding that he didn't need them the same way. The other members had become romantically involved with one another after months of assisting each other through their cycles and yet, Yeosang had remained the only platonic member in their polycule. He’d been confused at first, unsure of where he stood after Hongjoong had declared no relationships outside of the pack were allowed. He’d giddily wondered if that meant that they were interested in evolving their relationship with him. However, all these years later the only kisses he'd received from them had been teasing kisses to the cheek for their fandom. Forced to be single by the head Alpha’s command, Yeosang only grew more despondent as time passed.  

The worst part, though, was his painful bonds. No beta he knew ever complained of bonds hurting. He remembered casually mentioning it to a beta friend and the odd look she had given him was still etched in his memory. It had been an incredibly humiliating experience, forcing him to recognise his personal failure as a beta. With only the alpha bonds hurting, Yeosang wondered if he was an anomaly of sorts. He'd never heard of painful bonds in his beta sex ed class either. He'd thought himself lucky since he only had to learn about his gender while the others had been forced to learn about their opposites as well but now he felt like gaps were missing and the search engines were not filling them. 

Yeosang was sure there were answers in the longer articles but he never had time to do a proper in-depth search with his packed schedule and sleep-deprived mind. He eventually came to the conclusion that the bond must not hurt from their end. He’d been relieved in the beginning but, over time, resentment had grown in his heart. Unfortunately, he had never been the type to be able to seek out help due to the fear of inconveniencing others and so he remained in a constant state of silent agony. He simply tried to cherish the moments of peace they unknowingly gave him and left it at that.

Besides, he was a beta. He wasn't supposed to need them like that. No matter what his bonds felt.

During heats, even the omega bonds began to weaken. The once thick and thriving bonds would slim down, barely pulsating in his head. It took days, sometimes weeks, of extensive effort to bring them back to their normal health. The shared emotions grew dull and he had to focus to feel an echo of their emotions. He appreciated it at times like this, when he knew they were next door enjoying an intimacy he would never get to experience. He didn't have to hurt further than his imagination and early memories from days when he had less control over his barriers.

With all of these anomalies, Yeosang had to wonder if he was the cause of the struggling bonds. He'd tried his best in the beginning, before anyone had presented. He'd built strong and healthy bonds with all the members individually after they had chosen to leave their family packs and come together. Time had quickly damaged his effort and he couldn’t help but wonder if he just hadn't tried hard enough. 

Or… maybe he was genetically flawed. 

Yeosang’s sex ed teacher had said it was natural, even as his mental health took a blow as his bonds had decreased in size and strength. Beta bonds required less effort and tended to be smaller, though no less strong. They even took the platonic relationship into consideration, requiring even less from them. The change had filled him with such strong feelings of rejection and loneliness to the point where he'd started to daydream about breaking the bonds. He’d spent countless nights wondering how that would work. What would it be like? 

The sleep would probably be immaculate.

Then, he’d bit the bullet. Four months ago, Yeosang made the tentative decision it was time to let go; of both the pack and ATEEZ. He hadn't thought they could get much thinner but the moment he'd made the decision, he felt a change. It had taken months to wither away and now, the alpha bonds were holding on by a single tether. Once the first one snapped, Yeosang would have to manually cut the rest. He had been dragging his feet, a large part of him unwilling to let go. Despite this, he had still been planning carefully. It would be easiest to break his bond with Hongjoong. That way, the omega bonds would break naturally. However, he would still have to cut off the other alpha bonds himself.

An electronic ‘ding’ pulled him out of his melancholic thoughts. He reached for his phone, squinting as the bright light lit up his face. On the screen, there was an email notification from Hwang Jongyeon, his private lawyer. Hot tears filled Yeosang’s eyes, spilling down his temple and pooling in his ear. He scrubbed at his face, laughing weakly at his reaction. He’d known this was coming and yet, despite his preparations, he hadn’t been able to prepare his heart.

His time was up. 

Come the weekend, he would have to do it. Through his tears, he booked the hotel room where it would happen. His research had warned him that breaking a bond was excruciating. To break multiple at once was considered highly dangerous but Yeosang ignored the recommendations of having a doctor present. The less people who knew, the better. If it got out to the public before his lawyer and his company lawyer negotiated the termination of his contract, Yeosang would put himself and ATEEZ in a very bad situation.  Besides, this recommendation had been for healthy bonds. Considering the state of his bonds, it should not be too bad. He’d wait until Wooyoung’s heat passed. Adding Wooyoung to the weakened bonds, the only bonds that should be concerning were Mingi and Seonghwa.

Yeosang plugged his phone into the charger and rolled over. The medication had finally kicked in, his bonds nothing but a dull throb. The sharp ache in his heart never left though. That night, Yeosang cried harder than ever before, face buried in his pillow to muffle the pained sobs as he mourned the loss of his pack. Eventually, he drifted asleep staring at the packed duffle bag in the corner of his bedroom. 

Hopefully, the fallout would be something he could bear. 

******

Breakfast was normally a quiet affair now that it was just him and Yunho. Today was one of the exceptions. The entire pack had slept in the Nesting Room the past few nights to help Wooyoung through his heat. Yeosang had barely seen them, only catching glimpses of the alpha’s as they exited for food and water. Now that it had ended, all eight of them now crowded the small eat-in table in their kitchen, chattering incessantly.

"Here, have more," Yunho placed a second serving of rice in front of Wooyoung. The latter gave him a lazy smile in thanks, his warm scent fully relaxed. Reaching out mentally, Yeosang could feel the echoes of contentment through their bond. His chest tightened painfully at the haziness of the connection. He wondered if any of them had noticed the bonds thinning from their ends. Had they even bothered to check? Yeosang quickly raised his barrier as his thoughts darkened. He didn’t want the negativity to echo when they were all feeling relaxed. Still, their lack of interest provided him with an odd mixture of relief and torment. They didn't mind having him there but they also didn't seem to mind him not being there. His chest ached at the thought as he chewed without tasting.

At least they wouldn’t be hurt by his departure. 

"Thanks for the meal," he forced himself to use an upbeat tone to not ruin the mood. He stood and collected his dishes absentmindedly. Noticing Wooyoung was done with his rice bowl, he reached out to stack it with his dishes.

A growl sounded, quickly echoed by three others. He yanked his hand back, the rice bowl clattering noisily on the table. He clenched his jaw to hide the way his teeth chattered as his beta shivered, cowering at the sounds and filling him with dread. He felt cornered as the four alphas bared their teeth at him, growls vibrating their chests.

"S-sorry," his face grew hot again, the fear mixed with humiliation as the omegas laughed. 

"Stop being mean to my Yeosanggie," Wooyoung scolded them through light chuckles, slapping Jongho's thigh in mock discipline.

Yeosang forced out a laugh of his own before excusing himself, his beta still curled up anxiously. He knew how his members were after a heat or a rut. They did not like him touching them or getting too close the following day. He finished clearing his dishes with forced calmness and then headed straight to his room, knees buckling once in the safety of his four walls. 

He choked on a sob, biting his hand to keep quiet as tears streamed down his face. He’d ruined his last meal with them.

Chapter Text

San’s heart jolted in his chest

For a long moment, he choked in overwhelming agony, unable to figure out what was happening. All of his senses dulled, his only focus on the sudden hollowness in his chest. He sat terrifyingly still, wondering if this was what dying felt like. Then, a sharp snap resounded in his mind, and nausea overwhelmed him. He could almost visualize the familiar bond disintegrating in his mind, his awareness of Yeosang disintegrating into almost nothing. 

San wasn’t sure how he managed to get up at all as his legs trembled under the weight of everything he’d just lost. He dragged himself to the door, aching with the need to find Yeosang. As he entered the hall, he nearly collided with his white-haired boyfriend, whose wide, panicked eyes mirrored his own.

"Yeosang," Seonghwa croaked, his hand clutching at his chest. 

San didn’t answer, unable to formulate a coherent word as he made a beeline to their front door with Seonghwa hot on his heels. Distantly, he heard a door open further in the apartment and Mingi’s disoriented voice, but he didn’t pause. The three of them flew out of their dorm and into the condo stairwell. San's heart was aching like it never had before, and the oxygen around him felt dangerously thin, but he pushed forward, terror lighting a fire beneath his feet. 

He just needed to see him. He needed to know he was alive. 

The door to the floor above them flew open, and Wooyoung, Jongho, and Hongjoong ran in, looking just as dishevelled as San felt. None of them acknowledged each other as they raced up the steps to Yeosang’s floor. Their footsteps thundered in the echoey chamber, matching the pounding of San's heart. Arriving at the target floor, the six of them poured out into the hall and came face to face with a stunned Yunho. The dancer was gasping for air as tears streaked down his cheeks. He pulled at his hair helplessly before pointing to his apartment door and collapsing to the carpet floor.

“I- he’s,” Yunho choked out. “I don’t- gone.” 

San’s blood ran cold, and he could no longer breathe. His knees buckled as he followed suit, unable to support his own weight. Behind him, he could hear Seonghwa gag and throw up, the smell mixing nastily with their collectively distressed scents. 

"Gone," Yunho cried, tugging at his hair harder. San crawled to the taller alpha’s side, pushed by his own alpha’s need to protect. He didn’t know what to do, other than to detangle Yunho’s hands from his hair. 

“Yunho, look at me,” Hongjoong suddenly materialized beside them. “Gone? Where?”

Hongjoong’s face was completely pale, and had already raised his barriers, not wanting to add to their burden. San weakly copied him, barriers unstable as every breath felt like it might shatter him. He turned back to Yunho, desperate to hear his response. 

“I went to- he’s not in his room, he left.” Yunho continued to cry. 

His words, however, had pushed back the coldness that had taken over San's limbs and given him the strength to stand again. He needed to find Yeosang, needed to hold him, needed to know he was safe. He was alive. He had to be. San turned to the others, watching as Wooyoung tried to help Seonghwa breathe and Jongho supported a Mingi who had completely disassociated. Hongjoong had pulled out his phone and was making a phone call, pacing nervously as he waited for the person on the other end to answer. San waited impatiently with him as he talked to someone from the company. San pulled out his own phone and called Yeosang.

‘The number you have dialed is unavailable.’ San cursed as the automated message played in his ear. He dialed the number again, biting a nail impatiently, only to receive the same message. Aggravated, he sent a quick ‘call me’ text before calling again. In the meantime, Yunho had collected himself. He got to his feet and staggered over to Wooyoung and Seonghwa. 

“No word from the company,” Hongjoong said roughly. 

A moment of clarity broke through his panicked haze. San dropped his arm, taking in the scene before him. They were in the hallway of their building, where anyone could come across them. The pack was all in various states of dress, with Yunho being only in his boxers.

“We’ll find him,” he comforted the head Alpha weakly. “We need to get everyone inside.” 

Hongjoong’s eyes scanned the hall before nodding in agreement. San made his way to the front door and punched in the door code, holding the door open as Jongho carried Mingi inside. Yunho followed closely with Seonghwa in his arms, and Wooyoung trailed after them, looking dazed. Hongjoong was the last to enter, squeezing San’s hand as he passed him. San stepped in and let the door slam shut behind him. As he habitually moved to remove his shoes, he realized he was barefoot. He followed the others straight to Yeosang's room, uncaring of the dirt they were tracking through the home. He came to a stop in the middle of the bedroom, Yeosang’s cherry scent filling his nose. The others had already congregated. Seonghwa and Mingi sat on the bed, leaning against each other as tears streamed down their faces. Yunho was tearing through Yeosang’s nightstand, though San wasn’t sure what he was looking for. 

"His stuff is still here," Wooyoung hiccuped, ruffling through Yeosang’s dresser. The panic that he had just managed to stifle down, spiked once more. 

"There's a note," Jongho announced with urgency. San rushed to the young alpha’s side, peering over his shoulder as Jongho began to read it out, sniffling as he spoke.

Hi,

I'm so, so sorry to do this to the pack without giving you all a chance to prepare yourselves. I know this is going to be painful and weird, but I think it'll be better for all of us in the long run. I stretched the Withering process as long as I could, so the break shouldn't be too painful. If it is, there are some heavy-duty painkillers in my top drawer. Make sure to rest and drink plenty of liquids. I heard broken bonds can leave you feeling pretty bad. 

Also, keep a close eye on Mingi and Seonghwa-hyung. I think it’ll be the hardest on them. 

I'll be back on Tuesday. Again, I'm really sorry to put you through this. 

♡,

Yeosang 

Each word had felt like a nail to his heart, the pain becoming almost unbearable. 

"What the actual fuck?" he breathed, struggling to process the words he’d just heard. Jongho turned and uncharacteristically threw himself into San’s arms, hiding his face as he began to sob. San felt too shocked to cry, caught in a moment of surrealness. He felt trapped in a nightmare, the uncomfortable wetness on his shoulder his only connection to reality.

Yeosang had slowly killed their bond. Purposefully. 

San thought back to the past few months. How had he not noticed? 

Yeosang had consistently kept his barriers up for so long that San had stopped seeking it out. He hadn’t touched the bond in months, just accepting the echoes Yeosang would send through when he was trying to comfort him after a long day. It had existed discreetly in the peripherals of his consciousness, comforting in just its presence. Shakily, he wrapped his arms around the crying alpha in his arms and tried to offer a semblance of comfort. He carefully guided them to Yeosang’s bed, but Jongho pulled away suddenly. With swollen eyes, he looked around determinedly. 

“Did anyone call his mom?” Jongho asked. 

“I’ll call,” Wooyoung quickly volunteered.

San sat down on the edge of Yeosang's bed, running a hand over the soft comforter. As his panic gave way to pure pain, San inhaled deeply. The space was filled with Yeosang's warm, cherry scent. It was so much sweeter than he was used to, but still so clearly Yeosang that it eased the tightness in his chest. Yeosang’s scent was overwhelming, pure, and untainted. 

San frowned, sniffing deeper. He hadn't come to Yeosang's room much since the move. Yeosang's singular scent highlighted an isolation that San hadn't noticed before. His own room was a myriad of scents as the other pack members came through so frequently. Sometimes, his own scent would become so drowned out that it was impossible to tell whose bedroom it was. With every breath, though, Yeosang’s scent dominated the space. The beta hadn't invited him ove,r and so San had long resigned to giving him his space. Some of the pack were just like that. Both Jongho and Mingi preferred to keep their own space separate and would rather come out to mingle than to allow others in. Still, they carried the pack’s scent to their rooms at the end of the day. However, their current presence sat on his scent like oil on water. 

"It's only him," Seonghwa whispered, echoing his thoughts as he hugged Yeosang’s pillow. 

“I don’t-,” San shook his head, trying to figure out where things had gone wrong. Yeosang’s room smelled like he was rouge, despite the seven of them seeing him almost daily. Hongjoong scented him every morning, a routine act for the head Alpha. There should be at least a hint of their presence in his life, but San could find nothing. Had that not been enough to meld their scents? Or had Yeosang made sure to wash away their scents? 

Was this the reason Yeosang left the pack so unceremoniously, without even a warning? According to the note, this had been carefully planned by the beta. San helplessly sought out Yeosang’s bond and came up with just a fading nub on his end. The bond that he had been blocked from touching for so long was nothing more than withered tendrils filled with the memory of pain so sharp it took San's breath away.

A sob escaped San's mouth, no longer able to control his pain. He had tried to hold it in, taking into account the emotional state of the rest of his pack. They needed him to remain firm, to be a point of rest. He just couldn't anymore though. Hands were on him in seconds, and then he was being embraced by the alpha he had just finished comforting. Jongho was doing his best to emit calming pheromones, but he was struggling too much for it to work. He hugged the younger alpha tightly, burying his face in his neck. 

"I failed him," he sobbed. He should have tried harder to close the growing gap in their relationship. He should have tried harder to get Yeosang to open up to him. He’d grown comfortable, chalking up Yeosang’s changed behaviour to the aloof nature of betas. Looking back, there had been warning signs. Yeosang’s retreat had been unnatural, completely out of character. San hadn’t noticed though, instead just teasing the changed behaviour with a light “must be a beta thing” when something had been out of character. The echoes of Yeosang’s pain through their bond spoke volumes to the silent struggle Yeosang had been dealing with. If San had looked just a little closer, would things have turned out this way? Maybe he would have at least known the reason Yeosang chose to leave.

Seonghwa breaking down tore him from his own cries. He pulled back to check on him, only to be hushed by Jongho. "Hongjoong-hyung’s got him," he reassured him. 

San hiccuped, doing a quick glance around the room to check on the others. Seonghwa was curled up around Yeosang’s pillow, Hongjoong sitting beside him as he petted his hair. Wooyoung was clutching Yunho's shirt as he cried his heart out, his sobs muffled by his own pursed lips. Mingi was still sitting on the bed, eyes glazed as he continued to disassociate. San gently pushed Jongho away, needing to help Mingi. Jongho quickly noticed the tall omega had yet to resurface and frowned concernedly. 

With their attention, it didn’t take long to pull Mingi out of his mind. Thankfully, the omega’s sense of smell had always been the best way to reach him, and so San had simply hugged him tightly and pumped his own calming pheromones for the omega as Jongho rubbed his back soothingly.

"Where could he have gone?" The words tumbled from Mingi's trembling lips as soon as he was verbal.

"What if he never comes back?" Wooyoung's words made Seonghwa whimper, shaking his head vehemently. 

"He's coming back,” San said firmly to both of them. “He’ll be back on Tuesday and we’ll sort it all out.” San’s tone carried a finality that he himself didn’t believe. 

"We'll get him back, don't worry," Hongjoong said, his gaze sharp as he looked at the broken members of his pack. The determination in his gaze made San's racing heart calm a little. They would fix this. 

Chapter Text

Yeosang screamed into his pillow, a guttural sound tearing from him, leaving behind nothing but dry, raspy sobs. The frayed ends of the seven bonds reached out only to find nothing. They thrashed wildly as they unravelled in bursts of white hot agony. Every breath led to a stuttered gasp as he tried to bite back his pained cries only to fail moments later with a muffled sob as he bit into the hotel pillow. Yeosang had been convinced he needed this for his future peace but, in the haze of his agony, he was left with overwhelming regret. 

 It was too late, though. His mind splintered under the onslaught, each bond disintegrating as if set ablaze from within. The pack mark at the base of his neck had already faded into nothing with the distance he had put between them. 

His next cry was filled with grief, a helpless noise dragged from the deepest part of him as he mourned. Memories flooded him, vivid and unrelenting. Late nights filled with unstoppable laughter, quiet moments of unspoken promises, careless touches that spoke of a casual intimacy he had once held dear. Gone. Discarded in a pursuit of a peace that he no longer felt he deserved. 

He very quickly lost track of everything but the burning bonds. He knew he needed to eat, to sleep, to move, but the most he could manage was sipping water from the bathroom sink on the increasingly infrequent toilet breaks. The sheets beneath him were soaked with sweat, the damp sensation adding to the overstimulation consuming him. Weakly, he rolled over, trying to find a dry patch on the sheets, only to accidentally roll over the edge. He fell to the floor with a thud, the room a complete blur. He whimpered, rolling onto his back and gazing blearily at the ceiling. The carpet beneath him was soft and dry, and so he stayed there, dry heaving as his stomach tried to empty itself once again. Peace only came when his body finally gave out and everything went dark again.

Yeosang was dragged back to consciousness by a low but consistent beeping sound. The pain in his head had dulled to a manageable throb and, for the first time in days, he could think clearly. Despite this, his chest still felt unnaturally tight. No matter how deeply he breathed, there was just not enough air. He groaned softly, his mouth dry as sand, but his bladder tight. He threw off his blanket, immediately distressed by the odd sensation in his hand. Sitting up, he pried his eyes open and was blinded by the harsh fluorescent light of a sterile hospital room. His eyes squeezed back shut on their own volition but the sound of a door opening seconds later forced him to face the light.

"Yeosang-ah!" his mom rushed over, hands grabbing his face and working their way down his arms as she checked his condition. "What happened? The doctors called me and said you were found unconscious in a hotel!"

His stomach churned with fresh panic. He didn’t move, even as every part of him vibrated with the need to do something. He wanted to shake his mother, to demand answers. Who knew? Who had found him? What had happened? Has it already been leaked? Were there countless articles on the net? His mind raced to the possible headlines across every media outlet. He could already see it: ATEEZ’s Kang Yeosang Discovered Unconscious in a Hotel Room. Facts would cease to matter once the public decided on their version of the story. The media would tear into him. Into them. Yeosang’s throat closed as his stomach continued to twist violently. Had he sullied his pack’s reputation? Would they be disappointed? Angry? 

He closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat. He wasn’t ready to face the consequences of his actions, especially with his mother in such a frazzled state.

“Sorry,” Yeosang whispered, the word catching in his throat as guilt coiled tight within his chest. His mother was crying, hands trembling as they framed his face. She kissed his forehead through her tears then pulled him into a crushing hug, rocking them both in place. Yeosang slumped into her arms and allowed his tears to fall, seeking comfort in her embrace. He didn’t deserve it, but he needed it more than oxygen. It felt like forever since anyone had hugged him like this, and so he clung to her desperately, breathing in her familiar and calming lilac scent. She rubbed his back, soothing him with soft sounds until his chest expanded a little more. He gently pulled away.

"I need to pee," he admitted, voice small.

"Okay, go ahead,” she sniffled and wiped her damp cheeks. “I'm going to set up the food. You’ve lost so much weight. You need to eat when you're sick or you won't get better," she helped him off the bed and handed him the IV pole beside his bed. 

It was only then that Yeosang noticed he was receiving some kind of drip. With a tired thanks, he made his way to the bathroom to relieve himself. As he washed his hands, he gained the courage to look in the mirror. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his cheeks looked hollow. His hair was oily, and the hospital gown he wore hung unflatteringly around him. Hating what he saw in the reflection, he turned away and headed back out to his mom.

She was seated next to the bed, the hospital tray set at the foot and crowded with open lunch boxes. He smiled weakly at her and sat back down. 

“Your sister made this for you. She was here earlier, but she had to leave for work,” his mom said as she covered him with his blankets and pressed the buttons until the bed was on the perfect incline. She tucked the blankets around him with practiced hands, then adjusted the incline of the bed until it was just right. She didn’t stop fussing until he picked up his chopsticks and took the first bite.

The familiar taste made his eyes water, homesick for the safety of his childhood home. Regrattably, his stomach started to hurt after a few bites, but he forced himself to keep eating. Finally, on the verge of puking, he put his chopsticks down.

"Already?" She passed him a cup of water. He nodded, sipping it slowly.

"I don't think my body is ready for food," he answered. She sighed, a soft resigned sound, and smiled sadly before getting up to start closing the containers.

"What happened?" She asked after a moment, avoiding eye contact.

"I had a fever," he answered.

"At a hotel? In the same city as your dorm?" Her tone was disbelieving.

Yeosang just shrugged, looking out the window. The sky was filled with an explosion of colour, a mixture of pink, purple, orange, and blue bleeding together as the sun prepared to set. The peacefulness of the scenery clashed with the turmoil in his heart, and he turned away, unable to appreciate the beauty.

"What day is it?" He asked instead. He had no idea where his phone was, though he knew it must be close. It was the only way the hospital could have called his mother.

"Sunday," she answered, stacking the containers and tying them back up. He hummed in response. Only two days had passed. That was better than he had expected. He had planned for five days and booked the hotel for seven in case it took longer. He nodded again after a moment. He still had time. 

"Do you know where my phone is?" Yeosang turned his attention back to her. She made an affirmative noise and dug through her purse.

"It was dead, so I charged it. Your members keep calling, but I didn't answer," she said, handing him the device. He took it, grateful his mom had somehow known to do so.

"How did you know?" he asked warily, surprised she hadn't said anything yet.

"The doctors said they had an unmarked beta when they called," she smiled sadly. Tears blurred his vision, and he looked up to keep them from falling.

"Yeah," he said brokenly. His mom echoed his pain with a soft whine and rushed over to hug him tightly. Tiredly, he clung to her again.

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" She cooed, stroking his greasy hair. "Tell me what happened."

"It was just hard being the only beta," he sniffled, unable to tell her the uncut truth. How could he explain it clearly when he still struggled to understand it himself? She made another placating noise and kissed his temple, hugging him tighter until his tears subsided.

"I'm going to go get the doctor," she said, releasing him when he tried to pull away. "Do you want to come and spend a few days with me?"

He nodded, relieved for the opportunity just to be loved on for a few days, even if it wasn't the type of love his beta wanted. He just wanted to be surrounded by people who cared for him, who would hug him if he cried, and not consider it a show of weakness. She pet his hair affectionately before leaving for the nurse's station, abandoning him to his thoughts. Very quickly, he found his mind drifting to his pack-mates. 

Former pack-mates.

Were they upset? Relieved? Distraught? He should have asked more questions when his mother had said they had been calling. Braving the unknown, Yeosang grabbed his phone and pressed the lock button. The screen lit up. His notifications were full: 386 missed calls, nearly double that in texts, and 167 voicemails. Then, something else caught his eye. His mom had been right. It was Sunday. Only it was a whole week later than he had thought.

Heart thundering, he unlocked his phone and opened his email. Dozens of unread messages stared at him: from his lawyer, the company, and even Seonghwa. He skipped over them, unable to muster up the courage. Instead, he opened the search engine and searched for his name.

The results hit him all at once. Article after article filled the first page: Kang Yeosang Announces Hiatus, ATEEZ Member Missing From Schedule, Company Addresses Concerns Over Kang Yeosang’s Absence. His eyes darted through the headlines, landing on a press conference held by the company Wednesday morning. The statement had been vague, clearly thrown together in haste, speaking of a “hiatus due to personal health concerns.”

 Realising that this had grown completely out of his control, Yeosang warily opened up his contact list and searched for his manager's number.. His call was picked up just as his mom returned with a nurse. He apologetically held up a finger.

"Hello hyung," he greeted nervously.

"Kang Yeosang! What the hell? Where are you? Are you okay?" his manager whispered-yelled into the phone.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. I’m fine." Yeosang blurted out. "I just lost track of time. What's happening right now?"

"Lost track of time? The company said your lawyer is trying to break the contract. You can't do that to me! To your members! You never even spoke to them! They’ve been worried sick!" The manager's voice was getting louder so he just stuck to apologizing until he had stopped ranting. He had never heard the older man stressed like this before. He was usually very calm and sweet, so Yeosang knew he must have scared him by disappearing. 

"I'll go back tonight and talk to them," he told the manager, attempting to calm him down.

"Where are you? I'll come get you."

"No, no, don't worry. I'll go by myself," he promised. He hung up the phone before the manager could try to convince him otherwise. He didn’t want the manager to know he had been hospitalized, or the whole team would find out. Turning his attention back to his mom and the nurse, he was startled at the group of doctors in the doorway.

"Good evening, Kang Yeosang-ssi. I'm Doctor Kim, your attending physician," one of the doctors introduced himself. 

“Hello.” Yeosang bowed his head in greeting. The doctor approached the bed while reviewing the chart on his clipboard. 

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

“Good, thanks to you guys,” Yeosang responded politely. “Will I be able to be discharged today?" he asked. He needed to get back to the dorm immediately. He should have been more careful in planning. Ten days unaccounted for was unacceptable. Their company and Hongjoong must be livid.

“You can go home as soon as that IV finishes. You had us all pretty worried for a minute, especially your mother. If you had been found any later, it could have been very bad,” the doctor’s words almost felt reprimanding and Yeosang lowered his head in shame.

“You collapsed due to a combination of malnutrition, stress, and mild dehydration caused by a high fever. Dr. Kim explained gently, his tone calm but firm. “Thankfully, we’ve been treating the dehydration and malnutrition over the past few days, so your body’s beginning to stabilize. With proper nutrition and rest, you should recover fully.” Dr. Kim gave him a friendly smile as he spoke, maintaining eye contact to the point that it became almost uncomfortable. “However, if possible, I'd like you to come back for follow-up tests.”

"Tests?" his mom echoed, stepping closer.

Dr. Kim glanced at his mother and then turned to him, silently asking for permission to disclose his information.

Yeosang hesitated, something cold and tight curling in his stomach. “You can talk in front of her,” Yeosang consented quietly. While he would have preferred to keep his health information private, he didn’t want his mother to worry more than she had since his hospitalization. 

"So, your secondary gender is marked as a beta on your ID," the doctor began. "However, and I understand that this may come as a shock, your bloodwork shows that you are actually an omega."

Yeosang chuckled incredulously. Dr. Kim and the surrounding doctors just looked at him with an unchanging expression. Yeosang’s smile slowly melted off his face. He stared at Dr. Kim, waiting for the inevitable clarification, the ‘just kidding’ that could make him room breathe again. It never came.

"That's impossible," he said, sitting up straight. "I mean, I- I don't have any omega traits. No heats, no sweet scent, nothing." Yeosang could feel himself growing more and more panicked at the reveal, but he tried to remain composed, unwilling to have a panic attack in front of strangers

"I know," the doctor nodded in understanding. "I was skeptical, too. We ran the test three separate times with different samples to make sure it wasn't an error. It’s incredibly rare but it’s not unprecedented.”

Yeosang’s mother finally took a step forward, her brows furrowed, voice laced with disbelief. “How is that even possible? His family doctor identified his sub-gender when he matured. It’s always been beta.” Yeosang nodded in agreement. 

Dr. Kim glanced between the two of them somberly. “It’s possible he presented atypically,” he said carefully. “In rare cases, omega traits can be latent or suppressed due to chronic stress, medication, or environmental factors, especially during formative years. Sometimes, even a misclassification can go unchallenged for years. Still, there must have been signs.”

He paused, his gaze shifting gently between them again.

“But there may have been subtle signs,” he continued. “Perhaps his temperament aligns more closely with omega tendencies?” He tilted his head with light curiosity. 

His mom nodded in agreement as Yeosang continued to stare at them dumbly. "We all thought he was going to present as an omega. It was pretty shocking when he didn't."

Yeosang blinked at them, hollow and unmoving. His mother’s calm acceptance only made the roar of disbelief in his own head louder. An omega? Him?

The word echoed in his mind until it stopped sounding real. Omega? Something inside cracked. 

It unfortunately made sense. The longing for touch, the sensitivity, the constant ache. It explained everything and yet, he was still left with no concrete answers. 

He felt like he’d been tricked by his own body. He was forced to live years under an identity that never quite fit, constantly pushing himself to meet expectations that had always felt just out of reach. Now, the validation was too late to undo the damage.

Vindicated tears burned behind his eyes and he looked upwards in a silent battle of restraint.

“Yeah, that’s the thing in these cases,” the doctor continued. “It should have been flagged earlier,” the doctor turned back to Yeosang. “Have you been in a pack since reaching maturity?”

Yeosang nodded, jaw clenched tight as he attempted to appear composed.

“Did you ever bring up concerns to your doctor? I imagine those bonds must have been quite uncomfortable,” Dr. Kim frowned, concern etched into his aging face. 

“I mentioned it once, but he said I just needed to work harder on my relationship with the pack,” Yeosang swallowed dryly. The memory was a punch to the gut. He remembered how ashamed he’d felt, how the implication had landed like a verdict, placing the blame squarely on his shoulders.

He hadn’t been able to argue since his relationship with the pack was indeed strained. After that, he'd kept quiet, choosing to swallow the loneliness and confusion rather than face that humiliation again.

His mom's phone rang, cutting through the growing tension. She answered apologetically. "It's your father, I have to answer. He's been so worried," she explained before moving away to take the call.

The doctor stepped a little closer at that moment. "Yeosang-ssi," he said softly. Yeosang turned back to him.

"Yes?"

"Have you ever been sexually active?" Dr. Kim’s tone remained soft but clinical. 

The question blindsided him. His gaze flickered between Dr. Kim and the other physicians, cheeks flushing. 

"Uh… no?” Despite his confusion, Yeosang answered truthfully, never one to lie to his healthcare worker.

Dr. Kim nodded, as if the answer was expected. "As I said, your case is rare, but there are similar cases of omegas initially presenting as betas only to actually present as an omega after their first sexual encounter. I believe you fit into that category."

As he spoke, one of the doctors behind him began scribbling notes on her clipboard. Yeosang’s face darkened with embarrassment. The idea of his most private truths being recorded, dissected, and preserved like data made his skin crawl. He dared a glance at his mom, hoping she hadn’t heard what was being said. 

"I- what counts as a sexual encounter?" Yeosang asked quietly.

"Penetrative sex with an alpha ejaculating into you," Dr. Kim answered, coughing awkwardly into his hand. Yeosang’s entire body stiffened, the heat in his face now searing. He couldn’t continue to meet the doctor’s gaze. "Once you experience that, you will likely experience have your first heat within a month's time. From that point onwards, your body will function as any other omegas. I know this is all very overwhelming but our hospital is partnered with some organisations that could help you navigate this change.”

"What kind of services do they provide?" Yeosang's mom rejoined the conversation. Dr. Kim turned and smiled at her.

"I’ll have someone bring you a pamphlet,” he replied, turning to one of the residents shadowing him. The younger doctor nodded in understanding and slipped out of the room. “Well,” Dr. Kim said, addressing both him and his mom, “you must have only taken the mandatory beta classes. He'll need to take the omega course as well now," he explained. His mom nodded in agreement.

"I see," Yeosang mumbled. "Can I go home and think about it?" 

It was too much. All of it. His mind still felt like it was floating somewhere between the hospital bed and that dark hotel room. Was he still in the hotel room, having an extremely vivid dream? Maybe he’d wake up any second and laugh at how ridiculous this all was.

The doctor straightened up and stepped back. "Of course! I’ll forward your results to your primary physician. When you’re ready, they can help guide you through the next steps.”

Yeosang bowed his head in thanks, not sure he wanted to go back to his incompetent doctor. He knew it was a mistake, but in his heightened state, he couldn’t help but view it as medical neglect. Maybe things would have been easier if his doctor had just listened to his concerns seriously. The team of doctors returned his dismissal with small bows and smiles before they filed out after Dr. Kim.

"Well… this has been quite the day," his mom commented quite casually, fixing his blanket to busy her hands.

"Kang Yeosang-ssi?" a new, female voice called out. Yeosang turned to the doorway where the same nurse from earlier had returned. "I'm here to take out your IV. Dr. Kim said you're ready to be discharged."

"Ah, thank you," Yeosang said, awkwardly holding his hand out for her.

"I can't come home today," he told his mom as the nurse got to pulling out his needle. "I need to go back to the dorm. Things have kind of gotten out of control."

He wasn't supposed to be gone this long. His mom sighed but nodded in understanding. "Okay, I'll drop you off."

Before the nurse left, she handed him a stack of thick, brightly coloured pamphlets and encouraged him to call whichever service he thought would be best for him. 

Once she was gone, he changed into clean clothes. The fresh fabric clung uncomfortably to skin that still felt foreign. He hadn’t showered in over a week, and the musty smell clung to him like shame. His mom wrinkled her nose when they were trapped in the small space of her car, but said nothing. The ride home was mostly silent as his mom gave him space to promise everything he had just learned. Unfortunately, Yeosang simply disassociated until they pulled into the back of his building. 

"You'll call me if you need me," it wasn't a question.

He nodded and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. "I will," he answered anyway.

His muscles screamed as he climbed out of the car, but he ignored the pain. Slipping in through the side entrance, he avoided the elevator entirely. The elevators were usually full at this time of day and he didn't want to be spotted looking or smelling like he did. The stairs were a brutal alternative. Sixteen floors later, drenched in sweat and clinging to what little strength he had left, he finally reached the top.

His steps were heavy as he approached his apartment door. He just wanted to shower. To collapse. To be alone in silence, unbonded and untethered. To finally get that peaceful sleep that he had been dreaming about.

As soon as he stepped into the foyer, Yeosang’s stomach clenched with nausea as fear filled him. The air was saturated with the familiar scents of the pack, filling the space like a fog. One scent, however, stood out in sharp, overwhelming contrast. It was rich, damp, unmistakable. His heart slammed against his ribs in panic.

He instinctively stepped back, but the front door swung shut behind him with a heavy slam, jolting him forward again. His breath hitched. Panic bloomed in his chest. 

Mingi was in heat.

Chapter Text

Mingi winced as consciousness slowly returned. 

His body still felt uncomfortably tight, but the overwhelming heat that had consumed him mere hours ago had finally begun to fade. He could breathe deeply now without his stomach cramping and could finally form coherent thoughts. Letting out a soft sigh, he tightened his grip on the pillow in his arms. The soft texture of the pillowcase did nothing to ease the pressure in his chest, instead serving as a stark reminder of what he had recently lost. 

His entire heat had passed in a blur. Not even the cherry scent lingering on Yeosang’s pillow had been enough to ground him. He had drowned in anguish, both physical and emotional, until it finally ended. The only moment that stood out clearly was when Jongho handed him Yeosang’s pillow. The spike in pain that followed had seared itself into his memory.

Now, he clung to the same pillow, the scent of the beta he had cried out for over the past few days all but gone.

Spending his heats without Yeosang present had become a painful but familiar reality. That didn’t mean it had gotten any easier.  Even before Mingi had allowed his members to help him with his heats, Yeosang had always been a part of it. Mingi has always been extremely meticulous, almost obsessive, about his nest. It had never felt complete unless it included something from each of his pack members. 

Once he had begun to allow them to support him through his heat in a more physical manner, his need for Yeosang had only grown stronger. His need for any trace of the beta had grown sharper with each cycle. Despite the unfortunate platonic nature of their relationship, Yeosang had been endlessly understanding. He continued to supply him with personally scented items, whether it was his bed sheets or a shirt he had worn recently. Now, even the pillow Mingi clutched had gone untouched by Yeosang for over a week. What had once been a small comfort in his most vulnerable state had become symbolic of Yeosang’s disappearance.

His throat closed as emotion threatened to overwhelm him once again. He missed him so much.

Mingi needed him more than he needed air. When Yeosang broke their bond, it felt as though he had taken everything that gave Mingi life with him. The world lost its colour, food became tasteless, and music sounded hollow and distant. Catching himself spiralling again, Mingi sought out his pack, checking on their bonds. It had become a new and unhealthy habit following Yeosang’s departure. The fear of losing someone else had taken root so deeply that he now checked their bonds obsessively, every couple of hours. Yunho and Seonghwa were asleep, their bonds warm and quiet. Jongho’s barriers, however, were raised. The blockade made Mingi whine in distress. 

"What's wrong?" Hongjoong asked into his back, his smaller form curled protectively around Mingi’s frame. 

"Jongho-ya," his plea came out as a pathetic whimper. 

The young alpha understood immediately, lowering his barriers and allowing Mingi unfettered access to their bond. The wave of sorrow that hit him was so intense it stole his breath. He choked on it, barely holding back a sob. The intensity roused their sleeping lovers, Seonghwa instinctively reacting for Jongho, pulling him close and murmuring sleepy reassurances. The feeling was infectious, though; soon, every bond Mingi touched was completely tainted with grief. 

"Sorry," Jongho mumbled, hiding his face in Seonghwa’s chest.

"It's okay," Mingi replied, grabbing Hongjoong’s wrist to tighten the Alpha’s hold on him. The Alpha responded by pressing a comforting kiss to his pack mark.

"He's going to come back," San comforted from the opposite side of the bed. 

Mingi wanted to believe him—he had believed him just days ago. However, Yeosang had promised to be back five days ago in his letter, and there was still no sign of him. No matter who he called or where he looked, Mingi had been unable to find his beta. To add salt to his already festering wounds, their CEO confessed that Yeosang had hired lawyers to dissolve his contract, planning to leave both the company and group behind. 

The entire pack had stormed his family home after that meeting, convinced his parents were hiding something. Yeosang’s scent, however, was almost nonexistent in their home and his father claimed to have no knowledge of his whereabouts. Mingi had felt guilty as their appearance had somehow thrown the family into even more distress. Still, Hongjoong had refused to leave  until Yeosang’s father promised to contact them if he heard anything. 

The stress of it all had inadvertently triggered an early heat, causing even further disarray within the pack. And now, after enduring the most desolate heat of his life, the seven of them lay together in silence, wallowing in their own misery. 

A faint noise broke the stillness. Mingi tensed, catching a subtle but unmistakable scent.

He propped up onto his elbow abruptly, ignoring the annoyed groan Hongjoong let out, and sniffed the air deeply. He lowered his head to smell the fading scent on the pillow, then lifted it again, chasing the light scent in the air. The Captain tugged at him, encouraging him to lie back down. Mingi ignored him, sniffing deeper to try and bypass the overwhelming scents in the Nesting Room. He picked up on it again, all of his senses heightened by his still-receding heat. 

"Get out, get out, get out," he said urgently, each word accompanied by a slight slap to the Alpha’s arm. 

His heat had subsided while taking Hongjoong's knot, and they had fallen asleep joined. Mingi hadn’t minded. He knew how much this had affected their head Alpha, and he hadn’t wanted to take away the small comfort his body could offer. But right now, he needed to be freed immediately. 

Sensing his urgency, Hongjoong pulled out, rolling away slightly to allow Mingi to scramble to the foot of the bed. The commotion had startled the rest of the pack, and they were all propped up in various poses, watching him with confusion as he dashed for the door like a man possessed. 

"Mingi, slow down. You're going to hurt yourself," Wooyoung tried to coax him to sit up. The others echoed his words, warning him to calm down, but he just couldn't stop. He had to know if he was dreaming. 

Mingi threw the bedroom door open, and all the protests fell silent. Yeosang's fresh cherry scent hit them like a tidal wave. For a moment, everything was still. 

"Yeosang!" Seonghwa croaked disbelievingly. And then there was chaos. Sheets rustled violently as the pack scrambled to get free of the multitude of sheets on the nesting bed. 

Mingi rushed to the front hall ahead of the others, finding Yeosang standing still like a deer in headlights. His eyes widened further, taking in Mingi's form before gluing themselves to the floor. 

"Sorry, I didn't- I didn't mean to, I didn't know-," Yeosang stammered, taking a flustered step back.

By now, the rest of the pack had caught up now, fanned out behind Mingi. Yeosang took one look at them and raised a trembling hand to his eyes, completely blocking his vision. Mingi exchanged a brief, stunned look with Jongho. It took him another long moment to realise they were all still naked. He was just about to turn to grab something to cover himself when Wooyoung pushed past him. 

"Hey!" Wooyoung broke the silence with an outraged cry. "Kang Yeosang! Where on Earth were you?" He moved to throw his arms around the beta, but Yeosang flinched violently and stumbled out of his reach, gaze darting to Yunho nervously.

Yeosang’s scent changed. The fresh, sugary cherry shifted into something sharper and more familiar, filling with a delicious tang he could almost taste. Mingi’s brows furrowed. The shift pulled at something deep in his gut, his omega curling uncomfortably. 

Wooyoung froze mid-step, arms falling limply to his side as he stared at him with teary eyes, visibly crushed by Yeosang’s rejection. 

"Yeosang," Yunho's voice cracked, breaking on the second syllable. Mingi turned to him, concerned as pure agony permeated from his bond. He caught Yunho's hand on his own, trying to offer him some comfort even as he was unraveling. The beta was acting like they were a pack of rabid dogs, not people he had lived with for nearly a decade. 

He turned back to Yeosang, studying him closely even as he refused to look at them. He'd turned sideways now, like he was ready to bolt at any second. His extremities were trembling, and the tang in his scent grew stronger. Despite his familiarity with the smell, Mingi had never smelled it this strongly. He had also never seen Yeosang look so terrified. 

A horrifying thought crossed his mind.

If Yeosang’s scent had changed when Wooyoung had charged him, and he was currently standing there as though he would be harshly reprimanded for even looking at them… Didn’t that mean that the delicious fruity scent was Yeosang’s fear? 

Mingi had often joked with Hongjoong that Yeosang didn't know anxiety or fear. He had even been jealous of this trait and looked up to the beta for being so unwavering. Yeosang rarely startled when the company tried their jumpscare pranks, and he laughed easily anytime they played horror games or watched horror movies. In all the years Mingi had known him, he had never smelled the putrid scent that came with the emotion on him. 

When Seonghwa grew scared, his bright citrusy scent became almost rotten. When Yunho grew scared, his grassy scent grew dirty. Whatever it was, the scent was distinctly rancid. Yeosang's cherry scent, however, had never been anything but pleasant, in all its variations. Now, though, seeing the visible distress on the beta's face as he avoided them and pairing it with the pleasantly familiar scent of a tangy cherry, Mingi was hit with the gut-wrenching epiphany that the scent he knew best was actually Yeosang's fear. 

Suddenly, Yunho's spike in pain made sense. The alpha had noticed their fatal mistake already. Mingi’s knees buckled, and he would have fallen if Seonghwa hadn't steadied him from behind. 

He thought back to all the times he'd joined in on teasing the beta. Yeosang's scent always intensified, the tangy aroma filling the space as he blushed prettily and stuttered a lighthearted response. Mingi had enjoyed seeing the flustered expression since they rarely got a reaction out of him unless he was drunk or on camera. He'd thought nothing of it since betas were not easily threatened, especially by their own pack. Clearly, the experience had been drastically different from their beta for some reasons. Nothing about it had been lighthearted. He had been flustered due to raw fear. 

The silence grew oppressive, and the tartness of Yeosang’s scent intensified. He shuffled where he stood, peeking past his hand but hurriedly covering his eyes again after meeting Mingi's gaze. 

"You guys want to, um, I don't know, shower and get dressed? So we can talk?" Yeosang's voice shook as he gestured vaguely towards the Nesting Room with his free hand. 

Mingi took a step back, wanting to ease what he now recognized as anxiety in the depths of Yeosang's voice. The others hesitated, confused and hesitant. When no one else reacted, Yeosang took his own step backwards. 

"Or..." he said cautiously, "I come back tomorrow?" He took another step towards the door. 

That seemed to shock everyone.

"No," Mingi yelled in unison with the pack. Yeosang startled so hard he stumbled. His awkward laugh did little to hide the panic in his eyes, even as he straightened his posture. 

"Then... do you mind if I wash up? I'm sure you can smell how sweaty I am," Yeosang chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. 

A flash of white caught Mingi's eye. Before he could ask, Jongho had rushed forward. Yeosang shuffled backwards as he approached, but when Jongho reached for him, he whimpered and raised both arms up to protect his head. Mingi's jaw dropped as his chest tightened, the emotion mirrored in Jongho's bond as he took several hurried steps away from Yeosang. Mingi could only stare, horrified, as Jongho rushed to apologise. 

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Jongho said hurriedly. "Sorry, I was just trying to get a closer look," the maknae pointed at Yeosang's wrist. Yeosang followed his gesture before hiding his hands behind his back, though the action was far too late.

"You were in the hospital?" Seonghwa asked sharply. "Are you okay?" 

Mingi clenched his jaw painfully, pressure building behind his eyes. The pieces started to fall into place, slowly and brutally. Yeosang would never have vanished without a trace unless he had no other choice. Everything started to make sense slowly. Yeosang would never have shirked his duties unless he was utterly unable to. He’d been incapacitated. That was the only explanation for why he’d been gone nearly a week longer than promised. 

A fresh wave of guilt crashed into Mingi, nearly doubling him over. He had spent days recovering from the broken bond, barely making it through with the help of his lovers and packmates. Yeosang had endured far worse than all of them. Where they had lost one, Yeosang had lost seven. Seven bonds torn directly from his soul. And none of them had been there to help him through it. Mingi’s breath hitched, his chest tightening further.

"Why? What happened? Because of the broken bonds?" Wooyoung asked, stepping closer and reaching for his arm. Yeosang yanked his hand free, looking as though Wooyoung's touch had burned him.  

"I’m fine," he said tightly. "Please don't touch me."

Though his words were directed at Wooyoung, his eyes flicked to Jongho. Mingi’s heart shattered. Yeosang was terrified. So much so that he wouldn't even allow his longtime friend to approach him. Mingi knew alphas could be terrifying to unbonded betas and omegas, especially in emotionally charged states. However, he had never seen someone so terrified of a formerly bonded alpha. When Mingi had left his own pack, his alpha father had continued to remind him of his safe space. Nothing had changed outside of the lost soul connection. Yeosang’s case was vastly different. Yeosang behaved as if that same bond had never been safe to begin with. 

The realisation clawed at Mingi’s insides. The scent clinging to Yeosang now: bright, tart, and painfully sweet. It had been there all along. He had been afraid even when he was theirs. His current reaction was then, unfortunately, to be expected.

"I just had a fever," Yeosang said shortly, shrugging like it was nothing. Mingi knew better, though. Yeosang never went to the doctor unless he absolutely had to. For him to seek help meant it must have been unbearable.

"Just? You've lost so much weight!" Hongjoong snapped, his voice sharp enough to cause even Mingi to tense. Yeosang flinched almost imperceptibly. 

"Hyung!" Yunho spun on him instantly, eyes flashing. He was the only one, aside from Mingi, who seemed to have picked up on Yeosang’s state. Mingi quickly tightened his grip on him, trying to calm him down. He brushed Yunho’s bond, hoping to soothe the agitated alpha. The last thing Yeosang needed was to have two high-strung alphas, especially when he was already so scared of them.  

"I'll answer all your questions," Yeosang murmured, wrapping his arms around himself and looking smaller than Mingi had ever seen him. "But… can we talk after we've washed up? Please?" 

"Yeah, of course," San said, speaking for the first time as he moved to stand behind the head alpha. "We could all use a shower, right, hyung?" he added lightly, guiding a tense Hongjoong by the waist.

"Yeah!" Mingi rushed to agree, nodding overenthusiastically. "Shower!" 

Hongjoong’s eyes flicked between the three of them, clearly suspicious, but he gave a tight nod. "Shower," he echoed, though he shot Yunho a sharp look demanding an explanation. 

Wooyoung, on the other hand, did not catch on as quickly. "No! You've been gone for 10 days, Yeosang," he said roughly. "I've waited long enough."

"Wooyoung," San and Seonghwa warned in unison. 

Mingi reached out and gently pulled him to his side, wary of how Yeosang’s shoulders curled inwards at Wooyoung’s reaction. Wooyoung gnashed his teeth, the action almost childlike if it weren’t for the pure fury in his expression. Still, he reluctantly obeyed, sulking over to Seonghwa’s side.

"Go and wash up," Yunho told Yeosang quietly. "We will too." 

The group dispersed, Yunho and San gently herding the others down the hall and into the Nesting Room. They all crowded into the en suite bathroom, needing time to debrief even in the middle of their rushed showers. Despite its generous size, the space felt cramped with all seven of them. The large, walk-in shower was designed for two at most, but four of them crammed in anyway, Seonghwa, Jongho, San, and Wooyoung squeezing in together.

"What the hell was that about?" Hongjoong asked, crossing his arms as he turned to Yunho.

"He’s scared of us, hyung," Yunho sighed, settling onto the closed toilet seat. Despite the situation, a small smile flickered across Mingi's face as he noticed the slight flinch as the cold porcelain made contact with the alpha’s skin. 

"What? No," Wooyoung cut in, whipping his head around mid-shampoo. "He smells normal."

"Yeah, I didn't smell anything strange on him," Seonghwa added, roughly scrubbing his body as he rushed his shower. 

Mingi’s throat tightened. Tears welled in his eyes, and he let them fall freely. "You did," he said, wiping the tears away. "You just didn't recognize it." 

The room fell into chaos. Voices overlapped in frantic disbelief as they began to analyse every moment of their earlier interaction. Mingi ignored the noise, stepping past the arguing alphas to take Seonghwa’s spot in the shower as he stepped out. His attention was fixed on Wooyoung, who had grown incredibly still, frozen beneath the spray.

"Wooyoung?" Mingi said softly, tapping his shoulder.

"I just thought his scent was just maturing," Wooyoung whispered, his tears blending with the water. "Whenever I smelled his old scent, I thought he was just feeling really happy."  

"I know," Mingi replied softly, voice thick with guilt. He didn’t have any better words to comfort the shorter omega. He was also being forced to face the consequences of their accidental negligence. 

Wooyoung scrubbed his face with a rough, defeated sigh before stepping out of the stream, the water still dripping from his soaked hair. Without a word, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Mingi’s cheek in a silent offer of comfort. Mingi managed a faint, tight-lipped smile in return, the expression barely holding.

Remembering Yeosang would be waiting for them, Mingi rushed through his own shower.

Chapter Text

Yeosang hated how hard he was still shaking. 

His nerves were a mess and, as usual, he couldn't control them. His beta- no, his omega was a mess. In recent years, it had learned to always be on edge around the other members of his pack. Now that they no longer had the security of their pack bond, it was vibrating steadily with anxiety. In retrospect, Yeosang being an omega made a lot of sense. He could finally understand why everything had been so terrifying. He'd gaslit himself for years, but now, he knew that his omega had simply been unable to handle the alphas’ repeated growling. He didn’t fault them for being naturally possessive, but perhaps, if he had been more firm talking to his doctor, things wouldn’t have gotten this bad. Now, though, he was left with a visceral fear he couldn’t shake. 

Yeosang took his time in the shower, desperate to delay the inevitable. 

He tiredly focused on scrubbing himself as he pondered what to say to the other ATEEZ members. He'd always known he would have to come back to face the music and had even thought himself well prepared. In his mind, the broken bonds were supposed to make the entire scenario less stressful. He hadn’t accounted for his reclassification or the way his newly discovered omega would react to the alphas. Even now, he found himself reaching for the nonexistent threads to try and gauge their emotions, only to feel even emptier when he was met with nothing. 

His room smelled heavily of the members as he sifted through his closet for something to wear. It had been so intense when he had come in earlier. Yeosang had rushed to open the windows as he imagined them filling the space during his absence. He wasn't sure why they would have come in, to be honest. He could count on one hand the times his members had come into his room before, so it really had thrown him off. Hadn’t he placed the note on his door? Once he’d noticed his missing pillow, he was left with even more questions. Why would Mingi want his scent even after their bond had dissolved? Was it purely habit? His brain came back useless, and so he’d pushed it all away. 

After he had dressed himself in the most comfortable sweatsuit he owned, Yeosang reached past his clothes into the depths of his closet and carefully pulled out a dark blue stuffed bunny. He'd won it at an arcade when he had been in high school and had become increasingly attached to it over the years. He didn’t know if it was the nostalgia for better times or if it was the softness of the fur that comforted him, but the stuffed animal had become a staple in his grounding methodology. Sitting on the floor, he rubbed the ears between his thumb and forefinger, the texture grounding him. He sat for a long moment until the muffled noises from the living room caught his attention. The anxiety he’d just managed to stifle forced its way back into his stomach and chest, rendering the bunny useless. Yeosang held the bunny to his face, inhaling deeply before he carefully slipped it back into its hidden spot. 

Grabbing a scent patch, Yeosang carefully covered his scent glands before heading to the living room. The familiar scent of freshly cut grass dominated the space before he entered the room. Yeosang quickly recognized the cause as everyone was dressed in Yunho's clothes. Their intermingled scents had always been a reminder of his status as an outsider, but witnessing it today made it hurt more. The other seven were already sitting down, patiently waiting for his arrival. They covered the entire sectional, Hongjoong sitting in Seonghwa’s lap due to the limited space. His face was buried in Seonghwa’s neck, nuzzling into the omega’s scent gland in a nervous habit. Seeing the visible reaction to his presence had Yeosang's stomach growing even tighter. 

Next to them, Mingi, Wooyoung, Yunho, and Jongho were plastered together. There was still room on the oversized couch, considering they were all pressed against each other, but Yeosang made his way to the new armchairs he had purchased with Yunho the previous month. San had been looking out the window when he arrived, but now he looked over his shoulder with a light frown as the new omega took the seat near him. Yeosang tracked him from the peripheral of his vision. Yeosang knew he needed to keep his distance, hyper-aware of how volatile the pack could be following a cycle. He’d chosen the armchair furthest from the sectional as possible, but San’s differing position made it hard to avoid all of them. The weight of their gazes grew oppressive as no one seemed prepared to break the silence.

After a few long moments, Yeosang sat up straighter and steeled himself. "First of all, I owe you guys an apology," he began. "I'm sorry for being gone so long. I plan- it was my fault for not being better prepared." Yeosang tried to keep an amicable expression on his face as he spoke, despite how hard his heart was racing. He mentally applauded himself for putting on the scent patch because his scent would have taken over the room with the intensity of his nerves. 

"I know it was incredibly irresponsible of me, but I really had thought I would be back before the ATEEZ activities resumed," Yeosang continued. "It’s a bit unfortunate, but my recovery took a few more days than I'd expected." 

No one said anything. The silence was deafening. The looks of worry made way for rage as all the scents in the room grew oppressively thick. Yeosang could see Wooyoung’s mouth move as he tasted the word “unfortunate,” but no sound came out. The stronger their scents became, the tighter Yeosang’s chest grew. Desperately hoping to appease them, he stood up and bowed at a 90-degree angle. 

"Sorry, please forgive me, I'm sorry," he bowed with each apology, turning to make sure he'd directed a bow to all the members. 

"Yeosang, what the actual fuck?" Seonghwa snarled, causing him to flinch. He froze halfway, staring at the oldest member warily. Though he may be an omega, Seonghwa's authority came second only to Hongjoong's. Worried he had somehow upset the omega, Yeosang bowed again. 

"Sor-"

"Stop apologizing," Hongjoong interrupted, rubbing his face roughly. Yeosang quickly straightened his posture. He shut his mouth, tightly pursing his lips together to hold back from apologizing for apologizing. The eyes of his group members bore holes into him, leaving him feeling dangerously exposed. Eyes stinging, he looked down again.

"Why?" Jongho broke the silence with a thick voice. 

Yeosang glanced at him, saddened to see the disappointed expression on the young alpha’s face. He quickly looked away, guilt gnawing at his stomach. Yeosang had always worried about the burden the maknae took on in their professional lives. He’d always tried to make it up to him outside of work, subtly caring for him in whatever way he could. Seeing the exhaustion on Jongho’s face fanned those worries. Yeosang’s unexpected absence must have further strained the younger. 

"It wasn’t on purpose," he tried to reassure him. "I-I-it was-," Yeosang couldn't hold back the shudder as he remembered his time in the hotel. "I lost track of time," he said shortly, echoes of the searing pain still lingering. He was quite grateful that he had remained unconscious for the majority of the break.

"It must have hurt so much," Mingi sniffled, interlocking his fingers with Seonghwa for comfort. "Who was taking care of you?"

"It was fine, my mom helped me," Yeosang lied easily. 

The pack had big hearts and were quite sensitive. He might be an outsider to them now, but that didn't mean they wanted to see him suffer.  Yeosang knew they would be upset if they learned he had dealt with the bond break alone. A selfish part of him wanted to tell them, to cry and scream over the pain he had endured. He could almost feel the ghost squeeze of San's arms and hear whispers of Seonghwa’s gentle words. He clenched his jaw as he restrained himself. He couldn’t take advantage of their kindness like that. 

Besides, it would only blur the lines Yeosang had so painstakingly drawn. When he’d decided to leave the pack, he’d known there was no turning back. And, to be quite honest, he didn't think he could afford to even try. His heart had already been worn to shreds, and Yeosang didn’t trust himself to survive further tattering. He’d come to terms with the fact that his relationship with the pack was shallow and platonic. The knowledge was painful, but Yeosang hoped that it would perhaps be enough one day, that he’d be able to look back on their time together with fondness rather than agony. For now, though, he needed to prioritize healing. He could not have them constantly touching the open wounds on his heart. He needed to keep his distance. 

"Don't lie," Wooyoung snapped, jumping to his feet. "You think we didn't call your mom? She had no idea where you were either."

Yeosang flinched but remained silent. Deny, deny, deny. 

Or just shut up.

"I mean, why did you run away?" Jongho ignored Wooyoung’s outburst as he corrected himself, leaning forward to prop his elbow on his knees as his eyes searched Yeosang’s thoroughly. 

Yeosang tilted his head in confusion. Run away? He'd left them a clear note before leaving. Yes, he had been late returning, but he had returned as soon as possible. Or… was Jongho referring to his lawyer trying to cancel his contract with KQ? An odd sense of relief filled Yeosang as he finally felt a semblance of understanding. They were upset he was trying to leave ATEEZ without discussing it with them.

"I wouldn't say run away...," he explained. "I guess I just thought that… if I’m leaving the pack, I should leave ATEEZ too," Yeosang explained with an awkward shrug. It made the most sense. Things would undoubtedly be awkward between them, more so than before. Their fans already nitpicked their behaviour without this tension. He couldn't imagine going out there day after day without the pack connection. He could already imagine the video compilations, further rubbing his loss in his face.

"Fuck ATEEZ!" San exploded, spinning sharply to glare at him. Yeosang’s omega tensed, and he held his breath, lowering his gaze and stilling himself so as not to make any sudden movements to further upset the already aggravated alpha. An apology fluttered over his lips, but he bit it back, remembering Hongjoong’s words.

San exhaled loudly as he dropped onto the last space on the couch, pinching his nose bridge tiredly. Yeosang breathed with him. "No one is talking about ATEEZ, Yeosang," San said through clenched teeth. "We're asking why you left the pack." 

Yeosang blinked. He slowly lifted his head, mind blank. 

He'd known they would be upset about him leaving, but he hadn't thought it would be about the pack. His existence in the pack hadn't been very noteworthy. He had just been an extra, still in the pack because they had debuted together.  He'd expected their careers to take precedence. ATEEZ was built off of their eight names after all. Him leaving would definitely damage the group financially if not done carefully, and he'd come prepared to soothe their concerns about that. 

If it wasn't about the band, then maybe the broken bonds had been too painful to handle. After all, he felt like he himself had barely survived it. 

"Did it hurt a lot?" Yeosang worried, looking carefully at Seonghwa and Mingi. They had been his biggest concern, leaving, and he’d known they would feel the break quite strongly. 

"We should be the ones asking you that," Seonghwa said bitterly. "Are you okay?" he asked softly. 

Oh no.

Yeosang blinked quickly, trying to push back the hot tears those three words had summoned. He nodded quickly as he lowered his gaze. "I-I'm fine," Yeosang rushed to appease him. "I let it wither."

Silence filled the space once more, but Yeosang was too nervous to look up, afraid the glassy sheen in his eyes would give him away. A sniffle forced his head up.

Wooyoung was crying quietly into Yunho’s arms, the alpha petting his hair soothingly.

"Young-ah," Yeosang breathed guiltily. 

"Do you know how dangerous what you did is?" Wooyoung cried out, hiccuping as he spoke. "I thought you died!"

Yeosang's eyes widened, and he jumped to his feet, taking a hesitant step toward Wooyoung. Somehow, in all his brainstorming, he hadn't considered that possibility. The sudden break of the bond must have felt so abrupt on their end. Yeosang had been too caught up in his own pain to think about that. And then for him to go missing on top of that? 

"I-I’m sorry," he choked out. He should have sent a warning text or something. At least they wouldn’t have felt so scared. Yunho gently patted the blubbering omega's head in his stead. 

"That was extremely reckless of you!" Hongjoong scolded. "You were hospitalised!" he gestured to Yeosang’s wrist. Yeosang had torn off the band in the shower, but he still covered his wrist with his other hand, his guilt increasing. He had put them in a really tough spot. 

"Mild fever. I was there for just a day," Yeosang lied meekly, hugging his wrist to his chest. Hongjoong stared at him. He quickly looked away, unable to stand the look of defeat in the Alpha’s gaze. 

"Forget it," Jongho said when the silence stretched. "Let's remake the bonds," he demanded petulantly.

Yeosang paled and instinctively stepped back. The edge of the armchair buckled his knees, and he fell into the seat, staring at Jongho in horror. Pain thrummed in his veins as he remembered the bonds that had been seared into his very soul. He couldn’t do that again. 

"You can't just break them without a discussion," Yunho's agreement scared him further. If all of them agreed, wouldn't he be outnumbered?

Yeosang’s hand flew to the base of his neck, covering the marking spot protectively. He wouldn't. He couldn’t. 

"Please," he whispered. Yeosang was almost disgusted with how pitiful he sounded. Weak, unconvincing, useless. He didn’t know what else to do, though. If they demanded it of him, would he have the strength to refuse them? 

 His pulse fluttered against his throat, the sound of his blood almost muffling the world around him. "It hurt," he pleaded softly. 

"It’s fine, it’ll only hurt for a minute," San placated gently. "It heals fast."

Yeosang shook his head quickly, his tongue growing heavier as his anxiety intensified. He hated himself so much. Why was he so unassertive? He just needed to say no; it shouldn’t be that hard. But he knew he needed them to set him free, to allow him to put himself first. Faced with his biggest weakness, Yeosang understood just how capable he was of damaging himself beyond repair. If it would make them happy, then shouldn’t he give it to them? 

Logically, he knew it would be different if he were to join the pack again. He now knew the cause behind his suffering after all. If he just told them of his newly discovered sub-gender, the alphas would take extra care to nourish his bonds. They’d pamper and spoil him, as they once did many years ago. He’d be surrounded by constant affection and care, with an abundance of the cuddles and kisses he desperately yearned for. 

But none of it would be real.

He didn't want them to feel obligated to provide the physical connections he needed, knowing it was not something they were naturally interested in doing. Their affection for the other omegas came easily; a kiss to the forehead, a gentle back rub, a hand around the waist. For Yeosang, it would all be forced, bordering on non-consensual. Even Hongjoong’s mandatory wrist scenting had seemed like a chore to the head Alpha. Every morning, when he was kissing and scenting his partners, Yeosang would watch from the sidelines and compare the differences in the Alpha’s body language. He’d watch the glimmer leave his eyes as he went from affectionately nuzzling Mingi’s neck to taking Yeosang’s hand. If he were to rejoin them, every touch would be tainted with the harsh reminder that he was still not one of them. 

"Please don't make me. Please," he pleaded desperately. 

"Yeosang-ah," Seonghwa had pushed Hongjoong off his lap during his outburst and cautiously approached his side. "It hurt?" the omega knelt beside him. "What hurt?"

Yeosang shrugged his shoulders, fighting against the instinct to launch himself at Seonghwa, to curl up in his lap and allow the older omega to make everything better. The omega’s citrus scent beckoned to him, promising the safety and gentle fondness he had always offered. But he couldn’t touch him, not with the alphas around. He curled tighter into himself when Seonghwa reached out to inspect his body. Even though he wasn’t the one breaking the rule, he still didn't want to accidentally trigger them by allowing Seonghwa to touch him. If they had growled at him while he was a packmate, he could only imagine their reactions now would be far more severe. When Seonghwa tried to take his hand, Yeosang shied away and awkwardly climbed off the side of the chair, giving Seonghwa as wide a berth as he could manage.

"I’m fine," he reassured the older man, pretending not to see the pain that flickered across his face. He mentally apologized as he glanced at San and then Hongjoong. He was surprised to find both of them staring at him like he had grown a second head. And, to be fair, he had just crawled over an extremely high armrest like a crazy person. However, the lingering scent of Mingi’s heat told him it was absolutely necessary. No touching the omegas after a heat; no touching any of them after a rut. 

"Yeosang-ah," Yunho called out softly. Yeosang glanced at the taller man. Yunho’s black hair was still damp from his shower, falling down to his eyelashes with the added weight of the water. He looked painfully boyish, dragging Yeosang’s thoughts back to a bittersweet past. "We won’t get mad if he touches you." 

Yeosang forced a neutral expression onto his face, nodding understandingly. Despite Yunho’s reassuring words, Yeosang could hear the underlying tension in it. If it bothered Yunho to just speak the lie, he really didn't want to come face to face with the consequences. His heart was too fragile to take it right now.

"What? Touch who? Hyung?" San asked, looking around in confusion. "Why would you be worried about that?" 

Yeosang stilled, completely out of his depth. His omega had curled up so tightly it almost hurt to breathe. His mind raced with memories of possessive growls and lightly spoken warnings. He was so sure he was right to be wary, but San’s confusion had him questioning his sanity. He looked to Yunho helplessly, his dormmate looking back with a gentle expression. It made Yeosang even more uneasy. 

"Oh," Hongjoong's eyebrows flew up as he seemed to suddenly understand. "Yeosang, baby, it's not like that, I promise."

Yeosang's brain short-circuited. He nodded reflexively. 

Baby?

"I'm serious. You can touch him. We’d never get upset at you for that," Hongjoong said desperately. The blatant lie made his heart stutter. Yeosang stopped breathing, eyes flickering over the other members. He could hear silent alarms going off in his head, and suddenly couldn’t help but wonder if he should have waited to have this conversation. 

Yeosang wasn't stupid, despite the teasing remarks from both his group and the fandom. He knew there was something he was missing or his members would not be behaving so oddly. But what was the end goal? San had been very vocal that it wasn’t their career. Whatever it was, Yeosang would play along. He’d been playing a part for over a year after all. What’s one more night?

"I know," he replied with a lie of his own. 

Seonghwa sighed, the noise filled with relief as he moved towards him again. "Then tell me," he said. Yeosang smiled as he stepped back, staying out of Seonghwa’s reach. He felt like he was being tested but there was no right answer. Seonghwa ignored his retreat, continuing to advance even after his back had hit the window. Panic welled in Yeosang’s chest as he realised there was nowhere else to go.

"I'll stay in ATEEZ," he blurted, hands outstretched. Seeing Seonghwa freeze, Yeosang felt like he had finally found the answer they wanted to hear. If Hongjoong had lied about their feelings, it was safe to assume San had not been entirely truthful either. "I'll stay," he breathed. "I- I know. I'm too-" he swallowed harshly, "too intertwined in our storyline and if I leave right now it'll ruin it,"  Yeosang rambled, carefully watching Seonghwa’s face to gauge his reaction. "I already told my lawyer that I'll stay until the company can write me out naturally." Yeosang’s words slowed as disappointment and hurt filled Seonghwa’s eyes. His fingers twitched, itching to reach out and soothe the gentle omega. The older man sighed again, this time the sound filled with melancholy. He closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around Yeosang’s neck. 

"Sang-ah," he said softly as he hugged him tightly. Yeosang tensed, hands held far away from the omega’s body as he stared at Hongjoong over his hyung’s shoulder. The alpha was watching with the same tight expression he’d had since the conversation had started. Noticing Yeosang’s gaze, his lips ticked upwards in a forced smile.

"Hyung’s sorry," Seonghwa murmured, nuzzling his neck affectionately. His nose accidentally grazed Yeosang's scent gland and Yeosang gasped, not used to the very intimate sensation. The sensation somehow filled him with both nausea and arousal. Forgetting his own strength, he pushed Seonghwa. The omega stumbled backwards, landing heavily with a pained grunt. Jongho and Wooyoung jumped to their feet, rushing to the older omega’s side and crouching beside him. 

"Are you okay, Hyung?" Jongho asked. 

"Are you wearing a scent patch?" Seonghwa frowned, ignoring Jongho’s question. Jongho’s head whipped towards Yeosang, his dark gaze zeroing in on Yeosang’s neck. 

"Sorry, sorry," Yeosang's hand quickly covered his neck as he worriedly looked at Seonghwa’s sprawled out form. "I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm sorry. I- you just- my scen- I didn't mean to." 

“Don't worry about hyung,” San spoke up, slowly rising to his feet.“He said he's fine."

"He’s fine," Wooyoung repeated, approaching Yeosang. "What about our Yeosanggie?" 

Yeosang short-circuited again, blinking dumbly at the long-haired omega before him. For some reason, the possessive pronoun felt oddly intimate at that moment. It felt as though Wooyoung was still claiming him as a member of the pack, as someone worthy of his time and protection. When Yeosang came back online, Wooyoung was just a step away. He took the last step and grabbed Yeosang’s wrists gently. 

Yeosang tried to tug free, his anxiety returning in full force. Wooyoung tightened his grip, surprisingly strong. 

It’s not safe, it’s not safe, it’s not safe. Yeosang pulled harder, but somehow his strength had left him. His panicked gaze flew to the nearest alpha. Jongho averted his gaze. 

"Sang-ah," Wooyoung craned his neck, pushing his way into Yeosang’s line of sight. "Shh, it's okay. Look, they’re not mad." 

Yeosang tucked both hands behind his back, the second Wooyoung released him, but the latter didn’t step away, instead catching Yeosang’s jaw in his right hand. He forced him to look towards Hongjoong. Red tinged eyes stared back at him, full lips pressed together tightly and turned down in a sad frown. Despite Wooyoung’s grip, the alpha hadn’t bared his teeth disapprovingly. That somewhat eased his frayed nerves. Heart still racing, he did his best to push past his panic and see what his friend was trying to show him. 

Yeosang carefully took in the scene before him, trying to use his brain only and ignore his anxious bet- omega. 

Seonghwa was still sprawled on the floor, staring up at him with quivering lips and pained eyes. Jongho was crouched next to him, arms wrapped around his shoulders, but his gaze was fixed on Yeosang. Mingi stood behind them, the sharpness of his jawline contrasted by the cheeks glistening with fallen tears. San had perched on the edge of the armchair, face buried in his hands, while he peeked out through his fingers. Lastly, Yunho had somehow moved closer, now towering over them with complete disregard for their personal space. His leafy scent was still extremely muddied as he emanated pure sadness from his sparkling eyes. 

Wooyoung guided his gaze back to himself, looking up at him through moist lashes.

"See? You're fine. No one here would ever knowingly hurt you." Wooyoung said earnestly. Yunho murmured his agreement, gently pushing Yeosang's damp hair away from his forehead. Yeosang nodded again. The word ‘knowingly’ echoed in his mind. Wooyoung was right. They wouldn’t; not on purpose. For the first time in forever, he felt like he was with the people he knew before their secondary gender presentations. He took in a deep, shaky breath and nodded once more to reassure himself.

"Good," Wooyoung smiled sadly, pressing his forehead to Yeosang’s briefly. 

Yeosang breathed deeply again, Wooyoung’s warm cinnamon scent expanding his lungs but not providing him any relief. His heartbeat thumped against his chest. Once, twice, three times. 

No.

"Yeosang?" Yunho’s voice was muffled as Yeosang’s anxiety suddenly skyrocketed. Yeosang choked on an inhale. 

Not now.

He struggled to breathe as his panic attack hit full force. He clenched his fists tightly to try and control the extreme trembling, but the tremors just wracked his body even harder. 

He couldn’t breathe. He was going to die. His chest was too tight, and his arms were tingling. It hurt. Was it a heart attack? Oh my God, he was dying. 

"Kang Yeosang," Wooyoung squeezed his cheeks harshly, forcing him to focus.

"I can’t breathe," he hyperventilated, taking short, sharp breaths that did nothing to fill his lungs. Wooyoung grabbed his hand, unravelled his fist, and placed it on his chest. 

"I know, I know. But you’re fine, I promise." Wooyoung said firmly. "Just breathe with me." 

Wooyoung took a deep breath, his chest expanding under Yeosang’s fingertips. He tried following along, but his breaths were still too short. The scent patch against his neck felt suffocating, and he scrambled to remove it with his free hand. 

His cherry scent burst forth, the tartness filling the space around them in seconds. Wooyoung’s breathing stuttered but he quickly corrected himself, continuing to breathe, slowly and calmly. 

"Good, you’re doing great," Yunho praised when Yeosang successfully matched one of Wooyoung’s breaths. 

Yeosang remained focused, looking at Wooyoung’s relaxed face as he breathed. Everything was fine. It was just a delayed anxiety attack. He’s not dying. He was fine. 

As his breathing slowed, he became hyper-aware of the cold sweat he had broken out into. His skin felt chilled and clammy. Yeosang could feel the thump of Wooyoung’s heartbeat against his palm, slow and strong. His eyelids fluttered as he focused on the feeling of Wooyoung's chest expanding with each breath. 

"That’s it, just breathe," Wooyoung murmured encouragingly.

Yeosang held Wooyoung's soft gaze as he continued to match his breaths. As his breathing began to regulate and the irrational haze of fear receded, Yeosang felt the tension he had been carrying since entering the dorm release. With this release, he was suddenly hit with a strong urge to cry. His lower lip started to tremble. 

"There we go," Wooyoung praised as tears filled his eyes. "Let it out," he encouraged. "I’ve got you." 

Yeosang sniffled and shook his head, shame overwhelming him. Yeosang was familiar with delayed panic attacks. They usually showed as nocturnal attacks, catching him off guard the moment his body relaxed as he drifted off to sleep. He just hadn’t expected it to happen the moment his haze of fear receded.  

"Sang-ah," Hongjoong said. 

Yeosang’s body startled. He hadn't realised the Captain had replaced Yunho until he spoke from beside him. 

"Tell hyung what’s wrong, hmm?" Hongjoong pleaded. "Tell hyung and I'll fix it," he said earnestly. The words forced the tears Yeosang had been valiantly holding back out, spilling down his cheeks. He covered his mouth to stifle a sob.

"It’s okay, just tell us. You used to tell me everything," Wooyoung coaxed, stroking the hand on his chest. Yeosang bit his lip harshly, trying to regain some semblance of control as his heart begged to let go. Years worth of sorrows clawed at his throat. He wanted to talk about it, had wanted to for years. He just had not been able to bring himself to speak up, worried about coming off as bitter or ungrateful.

Eventually, habit won, and Yeosang wiped at his cheeks. "It's nothing," he denied, "it was j-just a little hard."

"What was hard?" Hongjoong asked, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Yeosang’s ear. When it fell back out, he repeated the motion. The sensation was so soothing that Yeosang wanted to lean into it. 

"I guess just… being with you guys but not-," Yeosang stuttered, unsure how to phrase it without baring his soul. He was terrified of telling them how he felt, especially considering there were seven different opportunities to be turned down. "Not being with you guys," he finished weakly. 

"Not be with us?" Wooyoung asked, frowning deeply. "Yeosang, we always want you around. I always want you around. We're forever, you and me. Don't you know that?" 

"I-," Yeosang dropped his head. Wooyoung's words warmed his tattered heart, but it also bewildered him. If they had wanted him around, why had they abandoned him? 

When Yeosang had moved into his new dorm, he’d immediately noticed a drastic shift in his relationship with the members. Whereas before, they had been friends, they had suddenly become coworkers. They would spend an amicable time together during work hours and then go their separate ways. Every now and then, he would approach a few of them to go out for dinner or something else mediocre, but no one ever approached him unless they were abroad. Even abroad, there had been moments that showed the distance. When Wooyoung had cancelled on him because San couldn’t make an outing, Yeosang had realised that things hadn’t changed after all. He was never going to be Wooyoung’s choice. Or anyone else’s. And so he’d simply gone alone. After months of hearing that Yunho and Mingi had spent the night gaming or that Jongho and Seonghwa had gone out for drinks, Yeosang took the hint and just stopped asking.

"I'm sorry I ever made you feel like I didn’t want to be with you," Hongjoong grabbed his face with both hands, forcing him to look at him. "We love you to death. This pack isn't a pack without you. ‘8 makes 1’ isn't only for ATEEZ, you know that, right?" 

Hongjoong was looking at him so earnestly that Yeosang struggled to convince himself it was all empty words. He was also far too embarrassed to correct him and tell them that wasn’t exactly what he had meant anyway. When his lips started trembling again, he pursed them tightly and nodded.

Chapter Text

Over the years, Hongjoong had learned that sometimes, it was best to simply lay low and observe. It had been a hard lesson from his youth, when he had been hot-headed and impulsive, too impatient to sit back and allow things to proceed at their own pace. In a way, his impatience had led to multiple great outcomes and experiences. He had been able to fearlessly lead his pack and the group to heights he had never even imagined. And yet, it had come with a multitude of avoidable problems had he taken time just to breathe and observe. Now, staring at him with wide eyes was the biggest problem he had ever created. 

At some point, Hongjoong had lost Yeosang’s trust. He could see it in the tension outlining the beta’s body, the shifting eyes, and of course, his scent. Hongjoong didn’t want to believe Yunho and Mingi’s earlier observations, but he was now faced with irrefutable proof. The moment Yeosang had removed his scent patch, the room had filled with his tart, cherry scent. Even after Wooyoung had calmed him, there remained soft notes of fear within his scent. Hongjoong was still struggling to comprehend how he had misread Yeosang’s scent profile all these years. All the fearless jokes mocked him in his memory, an ugly reflection of his failure as Yeosang’s Alpha. 

Still, he refused to believe it was beyond repair. He knew Yeosang well enough to see the nuance in his behaviour. The fact that the beta stood before them now, after everything, was a clear sign that not all had been lost. He’d only partially removed himself from their lives, after all. If Yeosang had truly lost all faith in them, he would have made a clean cut. As drastic as his departure had been, Hongjoong recognized it for what it was: a silent, desperate plea for help. He doubted Yeosang even realised this himself, but Hongjoong was sure of it. And that meant he had his work cut out for him.

First and most importantly, he needed to find a way to bridge the wariness in Yeosang’s gaze.  He needed to prove that he could still care for him, in whatever way necessary. But how could he convince Yeosang that he was still loved and deeply coveted? Words alone wouldn’t be enough. No apology or promise would carry weight unless it was backed by time, effort, and change. He feared that anything he said now might sound like damage control, an empty placation rather than heartfelt truth. None of this was going to be an easy fix, but Hongjoong had formulated a semblance of a plan slowly but surely. 

The first course of action was figuring out exactly where he’d fucked up. 

Yeosang still stood before him, staring at him with wide, doe-like eyes and a trembling pout, waiting patiently for Hongjoong’s next move. Hongjoong often got caught off guard by the malleability of the beta. Yeosang had always been easy to guide, easily swayed by the wants and needs of those around him, even at the expense of his own comfort. This quiet submission made Hongjoong overly cautious, afraid of pushing too hard or asking too much and mistaking his compliance for consent. 

That thought brought him crashing back to the present, to the way his hands were still cupping the beta’s heated cheeks. He quickly stepped back, dropping his arms to his sides to give the beta his personal space. For the briefest moment, he thought he saw a flicker of disappointment in Yeosang’s eyes, but it was gone so fast, Hongjoong knew he had to have imagined it.

"I think we have a lot to discuss," he said calmly. " How about we all get comfortable?" 

Yeosang nodded, slowly but agreeably. Hongjoong turned to the rest of his pack, the group already shuffling around to take their respective seats. Yeosang glanced at him warily before returning to his armchair.

"San," Hongjoong warned, catching the subtle tension in Yeosang’s posture as San continued to stand, hovering near the armchair. San’s presence was clearly overwhelming for the beta right now, so Hongjoong decided to prioritize Yeosang’s comfort over San’s need to pace out his nerves. The antsy alpha grimaced but obeyed, perching at the end of the sectional. 

Yeosang mirrored him, sitting on the very edge of his seat with fisted hands on his knees. Despite his attempt to seem composed, his disheveled appearance and trembling hands betrayed him. Hongjoong studied him closely. While it was his first time witnessing Yeosang’s panic attack, it was obvious the adrenaline from his earlier panic still hadn’t faded. Hongjoong recalled how often Mingi needed help grounding himself after an attack. Unsure what would help Yeosang, he made his way into the kitchen and grabbed a cold bottle of water. 

He returned to the living room with a cold bottle of water and offered it wordlessly. Yeosang glanced at him oddly but accepted the uncapped bottle with a shaky hand, reaffirming Hongjoong’s suspicion. He waited until Yeosang had taken a sip before moving to take a seat in the armchair parallel to Yeosang.

Jongho frowned but shifted to fill the space he’d left for Hongjoong on the sectional. Hongjoong had purposely ignored it, wanting to get rid of the visual divide that put Yeosang on the outside: the "me and them" that Yeosang seemed to see when it came to the pack. Hongjoong cleared his throat, the weight of their expectant gazes unnerving. He knew his pack was relying on him to correct their mistakes, but he felt just as lost as any of them.

"For starters," Hongjoong began, adopting a light tone he didn’t quite feel, "as much as we would like you to rejoin the pack, no one is going to force you to do so." 

It hurt to say. He had believed Yeosang would trust them enough not to force him into something he didn’t want, but his earlier reaction quickly rid Hongjoong of that notion. "It's entirely your choice," he emphasized. If Yeosang took nothing else from this, Hongjoong wanted him to clearly understand that his voice mattered, no matter what. 

"But-" Jongho started. The heated glare Hongjoong shot at the younger had his mouth snapping shut. He ducked his head, chastened. 

"I- umm..., thank you?" Yeosang said hesitantly, eyes flicking between the two alphas. The uncertainty was still evident in his voice but Hongjoong could live with that. He could work with uncertainty. He just needed Yeosang to keep listening. Maybe later, their words would carry weight. 

"If you’d rather just be friends and not pack, that’s fine," Seonghwa said quietly. It was the first time he’d spoken since Yeosang’s panic attack, and though his voice was even, Hongjoong could feel the pulsating anguish through their bond. "You could have told us,” he continued. “You're invaluable to every single one of us, and we want you close in whatever capacity you're willing to be." 

A chorus of soft murmurs followed, the pack nodding in agreement with Seonghwa’s words. 

Hongjoong took a slow breath, carefully regulating his scent to remain calm and open. “But... and I know this might feel invasive,” he said, watching Yeosang’s posture closely. “Do you mind telling us why you decided to leave the pack?”

Yeosang’s eyes fluttered, visibly stunned by the unexpectedly straightforward question. His lips parted, then closed again, no words coming out. The silence dragged on, and the longer the beta took to respond, the more confident Hongjoong became that whatever he said next would need to be taken with a heavy dose of skepticism. 

After a long moment of squirming, Yeosang finally said, "It was uncomfortable."

Too vague. 

"Uncomfortable how?" Hongjoong pressed, tone still extremely soft. 

Yeosang floundered again, gaze darting around the room helplessly. He was definitely hiding something and, whatever it was, it was big. Hongjoong glanced at Seonghwa, knowing his own helplessness shone in his eyes. 

Seonghwa sat up straighter, allowing Hongjoong to breathe a little easier. Seonghwa often credited him for their success, but Hongjoong had always known it had been a joint accomplishment. He wasn’t sure where the pack would be without their synchronicity and mutual support, especially in moments like this. Sometimes, he even wondered if the pack could have survived on his leadership alone.

"Yeosang-ah, look at me," the omega said. 

Yeosang's eyes flickered to Seonghwa obediently but quickly dropped again. 

Hongjoong’s lips twitched fondly as Seonghwa let out an exasperated chuckle. "Sang-ah," he called again, his tone still very casual and light. Yeosang looked at him again, this time holding his gaze. His cheeks had taken on that pretty pink tinge they were all so obsessed with, causing Seonghwa to smile slightly. 

"You said it hurt, yes?" 

The moment the question left Seonghwa's mouth, Yeosang averted his gaze. Seonghwa continued anyway, "Was it the bonds that hurt?" 

Hongjoong's eyebrows furrowed at Seonghwa's line of questioning. Yeosang’s bonds? Why would they have hurt? Hongjoong’s mind raced, trying to follow Seonghwa’s thought process but coming up short. He could see equally baffled expressions on the other members’ faces, but no one spoke up, trusting Seonghwa to be going somewhere with this. Rather than get lost in his own head, Hongjoong chose to focus on Yeosang's reaction. 

From his seat, Hongjoong had a perfect view of the beta’s side profile. Yeosang lowered his head as he laughed lightly, glossy eyes glued to his feet once more. He covered his mouth, shaking his head before rubbing his face tiredly. 

Hongjoong’s heart thudded painfully in his chest as his mind processed what he had just witnessed. It had happened so fast, but Hongjoong had seen it clearly. 

Yeosang had just cried. He’d hidden it in his laughter, the tear falling silently before he wiped away any trace of it. It had been such a smooth and practiced gesture that Hongjoong felt his own eyes begin to burn. How many times had Yeosang cried secretly right under his nose?

"It’s not that," Yeosang finally answered, "I just don't fit into this pack," he said, a wry smile lingering on his face. His tone was casual and nonchalant, like he was simply stating a fact. 

"Of course, you fit in," Mingi quickly refuted, a confused frown on his face. Yunho patted his leg reassuringly, but his face revealed his own distress.

"How could you not fit in?" Jongho scoffed dismissively. Hongjoong gave him a warning glare that he didn’t notice. "There isn't even a requirement. You just have to be you."  

Hongjoong’s gaze flickered to Seonghwa, the warning still in his eyes. The omega quickly grabbed their youngest’s thigh and squeezed gently. Hongjoong knew the situation seemed completely absurd to the young alpha, but him reacting this way would only serve to further alienate their already distressed beta. Yeosang considered this to be a truth, and Hongjoong wanted to try to meet him where he was, so he could figure out exactly where they had diverged.

"In what way?" he asked instead.

Yeosang shrugged and gestured to them, as though that answered the question. Hongjoong tracked the movement, taking in the pack before him. He stared at them for a long moment, trying to see what about them seemed to push Yeosang away. 

He came up with nothing.

Getting information out of Yeosang could be like plucking teeth sometimes. He sighed, the sound louder than he had intended. Yeosang glanced at him timidly before ducking his head.

"You guys are all together," Yeosang explained, speaking into his chest.

Hongjoong's eyebrows shot up with surprise, glancing at the pack again.  San was still uncomfortably perched on the end with Wooyoung leaning against him for comfort. Mingi sat beside him, hands tucked under his armpits self-consciously, while Yunho comforted him with a hand on his thigh. The alpha’s other hand was interlaced with Seonghwa’s, the omega nervously toying with Yunho’s long fingers. Jongho sat on the other edge, his arm over the back of the couch as he unthinkingly massaged Seonghwa’s shoulder. The caring gestures had been so common and casual that it hadn’t really stuck out to him earlier. Yeosang had noticed it, though, and his words were said with such hopelessness that Hongjoong almost crumpled and broke down. He wanted to jump out of his seat to reassure the visual, but he had no idea what to say. Hongjoong turned back to the beta, studying him intently. 

No matter how well he knew Yeosang, he still managed to be constantly surprised by him. He knew he was kind, caring, patient, and forgiving. He knew how deeply Yeosang loved. He knew how hard he worked not to be seen as a weak link in ATEEZ, no matter how often they told him he was more than enough. He knew he was the type to put everyone else's needs before his. He knew how eager he was to please others. He knew he remained quiet, even when others had wronged him. He knew, he knew, he knew, and yet he knew nothing at all. 

"You could join us," Mingi said hesitantly, as though unsure how his proposition would be taken. Looking confused, Jongho shifted slightly, patting the space between him and Seonghwa in open invitation. Yeosang’s shoulders deflated, and he shook his head.

"It’s okay," he mumbled. 

‘You guys are all together,’ the words repeated in Hongjoong’s head. If he dared look closely, Yeosang’s words almost sounded like a confession. Hongjoong stared at him intently, searching desperately for a clue to understand his beta. Had he meant it the way Hongjoong heard it, or had it been a melancholy complaint about their polyamorous relationship? Which one should he respond to? A quick glance at the others showed they were equally stupefied, unsure how to proceed.

Hongjoong’s alpha yelled at him, eagerness bubbling in him. A confession of his own hovered over his lips, desperate to spill out and let the beta know how loved he was; how badly Hongjoong yearned for him; how sinful it felt to not know the taste of his mouth. Hongjoong reigned it in, worried he had somehow misinterpreted it. He didn’t want to worsen the situation by throwing all of the pack's feelings at the very overwhelmed man. 

In all honesty, Hongjoong was surprised he had made it this far without coming clean to Yeosang. He had always been secretly obsessed with the visual. The first time he ever laid eyes on him, he'd literally choked on air. Yeosang's beauty had stunned him, but it had been his heart that had won him over in a matter of weeks. His sweet innocence and gentle nature had been a beacon of light during his most difficult days. Those feelings never left: he had just learned to tame them over the years. It had taken him years to even put a name to these feelings. So much of his time in their early career days had been focused on surviving. Everything else had taken the backseat. Debuting from a small company meant they had to work themselves to the bone to achieve any kind of result. 

He knew the others had similar stories. They were an anomaly, the seven of them. To have all of them feel the same way towards one another was undoubtedly abnormal. Add to the fact that they also shared that same secret affection towards Yeosang and they made for quite the odd polycule. Of course, some of them gravitated towards others every now and then but never in a way that had made the others feel less loved. 

Except they had.

Hongjoong could now see the damage that had been festering beneath their easy, jovial relationship for years. ‘ Together ,’ Yeosang had said. Hongjoong had no idea the extent that word had reached, but it was undeniable that Yeosang had been suffering in silence over something Hongjoong could have fixed with one conversation. He had utterly failed the beta as his Alpha. 

Would Yeosang even believe him if he told him that he had always been a part of their togetherness? Perhaps not in the way he expected or even the way he wanted, but the beta had always been a crucial part of their polycule. How would he react if he told him Wooyoung tried to convince them every couple of months that he could successfully seduce Yeosang without scaring him off. Or if he explained that San’s public affection for him was just another excuse to hug, kiss, or dote on the beta. Would Yeosang believe that the playful #1 Yeodoongie battle was just another way the pack could chase him without being obvious? 

Unbeknownst to him, the beta actually had all of them wrapped around his little finger. But they had all treaded carefully, hyperaware to not take any liberties despite the room Yeosang gave them. 

He was a beta after all. 

It had been Hongjoong’s biggest challenge, and he knew the pack struggled similarly. Betas were far more independent than alphas and omegas. They preferred to be left to their own devices and hated the restriction that came with the possessiveness of the other sub-genders. There was a reason over 90% of betas ended up mating with another beta. While flings were common, it was very rare to see betas settle down outside of their sub-gender. Apparently, it became too taxing long-term. Alphas were too overbearing and omegas too acquiescent. Thankfully, they had no issues being in larger packs since it was not a romantic connection. Their bonds relied solely on having a solid emotional connection, which was easy to achieve in familial and platonic relationships. Hongjoong had always tried to foster a welcoming, loving, and caring space for all of his pack, so he had kept a safe distance, not wanting to hover too much. Since Yeosang didn't seek him out often, he had assumed it was working. 

The pack had all kept their mouths shut, doing their best to not muddy the water and make Yeosang uncomfortable. Hongjoong often wondered if any of them were brave enough to begin with. Even amongst their polycule, they had relied on their heats and ruts being a catalyst to push them past the vulnerability of offering their hearts to another. If they had all been a group of betas, would anyone have ever confessed? 

Besides, Yeosang was very particular about the forms of affection he could tolerate. He was fine with them casually touching him, but he disliked more intimate forms of affection like kissing, cuddling, and scenting. He was also quite introverted and preferred to spend his time holed up in his room. When they had shared bedrooms, it had been easier to be around him since his room was a shared space. Hongjoong had lost count of the times he'd entered his room, pretending to be there to talk to Wooyoung of Jongho in order to engage with him. When they had moved out, though, Yeosang's room became much more isolated. He hadn't realised the extent until the day their bond had broken. It had been so jarring to walk into the room and smell just the beta’s cherry scent.  

Lost in his thoughts, Hongjoong hadn't noticed how quiet the room had gotten until Yeosang started rambling.

"That's not to say that I have to- I mean I'm not trying... to make you feel bad," the words tumbled out as he fidgeted nervously. "It's just a bit lonely seeing- not that I don't love that you guys have each other. I'm really happy for you. I just mean to say that, you know, some space- Yeah, I need some space to sort myself out, and the bonds were holding me back," Yeosang slumped further in his seat, looking embarrassedly defeated.

"More space…," Jongho said slowly, his bond filled with frustration. Hongjoong could almost hear the countless memories of Jongho complaining about Yeosang’s need for space. "But… that still doesn't answer the question of your bonds," Jongho pushed past his emotions, bringing them back from Yeosang's deflection. "It shouldn't have hurt at all." 

"Oh, uh," Yeosang squirmed in his seat, looking increasingly nervous. 

Jongho was right; it shouldn't have hurt. His bonds had of course felt different from the others but that only made sense. His own bonds with the omegas felt vastly different than his bonds with the Alphas. Yeosang's bonds reminded him of his previous bonds with his own parents, a beta pair. Nothing had been out of the ordinary. 

"Did all of your bonds hurt?" Seonghwa asked after a moment of deliberation. Hongjoong’s stomach dropped. He had no idea how Seonghwa had already come to this hypothesis so quickly, but he couldn’t help but begin to fear the omega was right. Yeosang had tried to deflect immediately which meant Seonghwa had been going in the right direction. 

Yeosang shrugged, looking down at his hands as he toyed with his sweater again. 

Hongjoong tried to focus on the facts again. When Yeosang had broken their bonds, Hongjoong had dealt with extreme emotional pain. The loss was sharp and overbearing. However, the actual bond hadn’t hurt that much. It had hurt more to leave his childhood pack. Yunho, Jongho, and San had also seemed fine. Wooyoung had gotten sick from the break, but Seonghwa and Mingi had taken it the hardest, ending up bedridden for three days.

"Was it the alpha bonds?" Seonghwa asked with a slight quiver in his voice. Hongjoong's stomach twisted nastily as Yeosang froze for a moment before shrugging again. 

"Fuck," Hongjoong breathed harshly, dropping his head into his hands. The tears he had been holding back spilled over, and he brushed them away roughly. He didn’t deserve to cry.

"What? Why?" Mingi asked, leaning forward to look at Seonghwa better. "Why would it hurt?"

"Yeosang-ah," San asked slowly, Hongjoong’s terror reflected on the younger alpha’s face. "Did it ever not hurt?"

Yeosang hesitated before shrugging, refusing eye contact. Blood rushed loudly through Hongjoong's ears at the lack of denial. Coming from Yeosang, that was the same as a confirmation.

"When did it not hurt?" He could hear the concern in Wooyoung’s voice as he asked the question Hongjoong dreaded to know the response to. 

Yeosang shrugged again, refusing to look up. 

There it was. The last piece of this God-forsaken puzzle. 

"What’s going on? What am I missing?" Mingi looked around in confusion, his scent souring as he grew more anxious. Hongjoong didn’t respond, too shocked to formulate a thought. 

"Fuck," he finally said, jumping to his feet. He needed to move before he lost his mind. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chanted, hands gripping his hair as he paced the space. There was no way. It couldn't be. If Yeosang was really an omega, then…

"What? What's wrong?" Mingi asked desperately, looking around at the ashen faces of his pack members.  

"Breathe," San was already by Hongjoong’s side, worriedly touching his shoulder gently. "We don’t know for certain." 

Hongjoong shrugged him off. "Yeah, we fucking do," he nearly snarled. This was not the time to be receiving comfort. He had to get real answers. He spun around, stalking towards Yeosang. 

"Come on, let's go," he said to the wide-eyed man.

"What? Where?" Yeosang asked, though he got to his feet as ordered. His cherry scent changed, the delicious tang Hongjoong had spent years not recognizing, entering its profile.

"Hyung, what's wrong?" Mingi panicked with him, but Hongjoong didn't have the energy to respond. He would get his answers, and he would get them now. 

Hongjoong grew nauseous as he remembered the state of Yeosang's bond. If Yeosang was an omega, then Hongjoong deserved to die. Preferably in the most painful manner possible. How many years would Yeosang have had to put up with such excruciating bonds? Had he even been able to eat? Sleep?

He grabbed Yeosang's arm, tugging him towards the front door. The younger looked at him in bewilderment, but Hongjoong paid him no heed, simply pulling him towards the door. 

"Jongho-ya, go grab my car keys, please," Hongjoong told the young alpha. Jongho made a noise of assent and followed them to the door. 

Yeosang tugged at Hongjoong's grip gently, and he adjusted his grip to tighten his hold. He needed to get Yeosang to a doctor immediately. If Yeosang had been an omega this entire time, then he had likely spent it all in quiet, unrelenting agony. They had treated him the way they thought most betas preferred, offering space, independence, and minimal interference. But that was basically the opposite of what an omega would have needed. And, taking into consideration both his innate personality type as well as the inherent qualities of an omega, it was not in Yeosang's nature to make a fuss out of it.

"Hyung, what's wrong? Why the hospital?" Mingi stepped in front of them, blocking their path. 

Coming face to face with Mingi’s alarmed expression, Hongjoong was reminded that he needed to remain level-headed. He had a responsibility to protect his pack, and that included ensuring their emotional well-being. He had failed Yeosang so miserably, but he could still help them. He took a deep, grounding breath. 

"Yunho," he said thinly. The tall alpha seemed to snap out of his stupor, allowing Hongjoong to forget about the confused omega. 

He could vaguely make out Yunho explaining to Mingi that Yeosang’s bonds had most likely been causing him pain as he grabbed Yeosang’s coat from the coat closet with his free hand. 

"It didn't hurt on my end," Mingi argued, still confused.

"You're an omega," Hongjoong explained vaguely. "Jongho, I need my wallet too. Please run downstairs quickly." Hongjoong tried to order calmly but he knew he had failed because of the grimace on San's face. He hoped he was wrong. For Yeosang’s sake, he needed to be wrong.

"On your table, right?" Jongho asked, already shoving his feet into his sneakers.

"Hongjoong-hyung," Yeosang tugged again, this time harder. The urgency in his voice finally cut through the fog in Hongjoong’s mind. He turned, startled, realizing it was the second time Yeosang had tried to stop him. 

"Yes? What's wrong?" he asked, forcing his voice to soften. Everyone else had gone silent, their eyes fixed on the two of them. Yeosang visibly shrank beneath the weight of their attention.

"I don't need- we don't need to go to the hospital," Yeosang said tightly, tugging his arm free.

"It’s okay," Hongjoong said automatically, reaching out again to pet the side of his head. He was panicking, spiraling, and he hated himself for letting it show. It had only served to further stress out Yeosang. "We’re just going there to do a quick blood test, okay? Just to confirm."

Yeosang's countenance tightened, and he stepped back, breaking away from Hongjoong's touch. 

"It's okay, there's no need." Yeosang sighed, sounding defeated. “Jongho-ya,” he called out, turning to their youngest member, who had just opened the front door. "Come back. I… I already did a blood test."

Hongjoong's blood ran cold.

"What?” Seonghwa croaked. 

“When?" Yunho asked. 

"You didn’t say anything…" Wooyoung said slowly.

Had Seonghwa been wrong? Had they misread him? No. Hongjoong remembered the moment Yeosang teared up earlier and how he'd dodged Seonghwa’s question. He hadn’t misread anything. There was no way he was wrong. 

"Earlier today," Yeosang muttered, eyes fixed on the floor. His fingers fumbled with the hem of his sweater like he was trying to disappear into it. The sight made Hongjoong’s chest sink.

Yeosang had known. He just hadn’t told them.

"And?" Jongho asked quietly when the silence stretched too long.

Hongjoong wanted to close his ears. He didn’t want to hear the answer. His heart had sunk so far it felt like it had been ripped from his chest. Yeosang didn't want to tell them something so life-altering. Hongjoong had realised it earlier, but to see Yeosang's distrust laid out so blatantly hurt far more than he expected. 

Clearly still not ready to tell them, Yeosang just shrugged, his eyes guarded.

Chapter Text

Yeosang kicked his sheets, thrashing in frustration as his phone alarm went off. 

It was already 8 AM, and he had not slept a wink all night. His mind had refused to quiet, obsessively replaying last night’s conversation with the pack like a broken record. His misery had finally receded, only to be replaced with an immense feeling of mortification. He had been far too revealing last night. He thought he had learned by now not to run his mouth, and yet, somehow, he had still said just enough for Seonghwa to immediately discover his new secret. It shouldn’t have surprised him, and yet, he had been blindsided.

And then, of course, there was the panic attack.

Yeosang rolled over and let out a muffled yell into his pillow. He couldn’t face them again. There was just no coming back from something like that. Yeosang had taken advantage of their stupor after confessing that he was indeed an omega. He had mumbled something about being exhausted, dropping so low as to use his hospitalisation to garner their pity, and fled to the safety of his bedroom. He hadn’t wanted to stick around to see their raw reactions to the news and, quite frankly, he never wanted to know. 

Luckily, he was still technically on hiatus, which worked to his advantage. He could avoid them for a while, at least until the shock wears off and it becomes a non-issue. This, unfortunately, was not a major promotional season, so they would not be as busy as he wished, but at the very least, they would all be out pretty frequently. 

Yeosang took a moment to respond to his emails, asking his lawyer for an update on his conversations with the company before checking the group’s schedule. Yunho had an early morning schedule, so his dorm should be empty right now. If he headed out now, he could find something to do to fill the day and return after the alpha had gone to bed. 

Exhausted but just as tired of rotting in bed, Yeosang forced himself up. He hadn’t gone to the gym in over a week. Perhaps he could go now. He needed to do something to take his mind off the mortifying shit-show that had gone down yesterday, and sleep was clearly not an option. 

Yeosang was met with the smell of something cooking the moment he stepped out of his bedroom door. His brows furrowed in confusion. Had his manager come over to see him? Was he not busy helping the other members? Turning the corner, he came face to face with a vaguely familiar scene. 

Instead of his favourite manager, he found a shirtless alpha standing at the stove in a pair of bright red shorts and the pink Hello Kitty apron Wooyoung had bought as a housewarming gift. The apron strained slightly across his slender frame, the soft curve of Yunho’s waist and the soft definition of a dancer’s back on clear display. Yunho reached for a plate on the counter, the action bringing Yeosang into his peripheral vision. Yeosang looked away, heat prickling the tips of his ears.

"Oh, you’re up!" Yunho greeted him with a tentative smile. 

"Good morning," Yeosang replied, taking in the scene before him. Yunho had covered their kitchen table with a breakfast spread. He stood near the stove holding an empty plate as he continued to smile at Yeosang. 

"The eggs are going to burn," he told the alpha when Yunho continued to stare at him with an unnerving expression. That seemed to snap the taller man out of it, and he spun around to hurriedly plate the egg roll he had made. Yeosang watched as Yunho placed the dish on the table and began setting the utensils, unsure how to leave without making it awkward.

"Did Mingi sleep over?" Yeosang asked conversationally, already expecting his response. He could smell the omega’s scent blending in with Yunho’s. Their scents were extremely complementary and carried a nostalgic sense of freedom from Yeosang’s childhood. Hopefully, Yunho’s response would give him a chance to naturally bring up needing to leave. 

"Mingi?" Yunho’s hands paused, his brows furrowing curiously before understanding filled his expression. "Oh! Oh, no, he left last night. This is for you.” Yunho gestured to the table proudly. 

"Huh?" Yeosang tilted his head in confusion. 

He took in the meal spread with a fresh perspective. The dishes were all things Yeosang enjoyed. There was a seasoned cucumber salad, kimchi, what looked like soybean stew, a vegetable stir-fry, an egg roll, and two bowls of steaming rice. But why would Yunho make him breakfast on a random Monday? It wasn’t his birthday, was it? Yeosang glanced at his phone screen. No, it wasn’t. 

"You didn’t eat dinner last night," Yunho said, his tone lightly scolding as he set a water jug on the table centre. 

"Ah." Yeosang’s nose scrunched in distaste at the reminder of yesterday. "It’s fine, I wasn’t hungry."

"Still, you should eat now," Yunho said, pulling out his chair and sitting down. 

Yeosang looked around their kitchen casually, trying to push down the discomfort rising in his chest. He wasn’t one to dislike change, but oddly enough, Yunho’s behaviour bothered him. He turned his attention to the waiting alpha, seated before the spread he’d clearly worked hard on. Everything about the image was wrong. There have been plenty of nights when Yeosang had gone to bed on an empty stomach and Yunho had never woken up early to prepare breakfast for him. 

There had to be an ulterior motive. He approached the table and awkwardly sat before Yunho. 

"Thank you for the meal," Yeosang said habitually, picking up his chopsticks. Yunho's eyes crinkled as he smiled in response, the expression finally looking natural on his face. Yeosang’s omega settled slightly at the sight.

The meal passed in silence as Yeosang continued to ponder the change in behaviour. It didn’t take long for him to come to the glaringly obvious conclusion. Yunho was treating him like an omega. While it was abnormal for Yunho to cook breakfast just for him, it was also something the other alphas had always done since the beginning. They were taught to be careful with the health of the pack omegas, especially considering the fast-paced industry they were in. When they had lived together, the alphas had all taken turns waking early to make breakfast for the pack. However, ever since they moved out, Yunho had not needed to do so. 

Making the connection, Yeosang couldn’t help sneaking furtive glances at Yunho. This is exactly what he hadn’t wanted to happen. Would Yunho try to talk to him about it? The savory food turned to ash on his tongue as he dreaded the moment Yunho would strike up a conversation. Yeosang still hadn’t come to terms with what being an omega meant for him, and he wasn’t ready for them to try to redefine their relationship through this lens. He knew where he stood in their life, and he didn’t want to watch them try and pretend otherwise. 

Yunho, however, simply ate silently, smiling whenever their eyes met. Oddly enough, that didn’t make Yeosang feel any better. Despite his relief, he couldn’t help feeling neglected. Like Yunho just didn’t care enough. It was an unsettling mixture.

Once Yunho finished, Yeosang thanked him for the meal and started to clear the table. Yunho stood and started to collect the dishes as well.

"I can do it, don’t worry," Yeosang offered quickly, reaching for the plates in Yunho’s hand. Yunho had cooked, so it was only fair that Yeosang did the cleaning. Yunho pulled it out of his reach.

"I know. I want to help," the alpha ruffled his hair with his free hand. “I missed you.”

Yeosang froze momentarily before spinning around and heading to the sink. His heart was thundering at the light affection, and he could feel his ears growing warmer. He could hear Yunho packing away the leftovers behind him as he scrubbed at the dishes and silently begged the alpha to just leave. Unfortunately, the shirtless dancer did not seem to pick up on his silent plea and stayed until every last task was completed. 

"Thanks for the food," Yeosang managed to say politely before rushing back to the privacy of his room. He would wait until Yunho left before he headed to the gym. 

***

It soon became glaringly obvious that the breakfast had not been an odd event but rather his new normal. Not even a full week had passed, but Yunho had managed to take over breakfast, making sure that there was a full meal for Yeosang each morning. Even when Yunho had an early schedule, Yeosang still woke to find a covered meal sitting on the table, waiting for him. 

It wasn’t just Yunho either. The entire pack seemed to have developed an obsession with making sure he was eating enough. Yeosang wondered if his weight loss had worried them, but pushed the thought away. It wasn’t the first time he’d lost weight due to an illness, and aside from Seonghwa, none of them had reacted this extremely. Yesterday, Hongjoong had put food in the fridge while he was visiting his parents. The day before, Mingi had food delivered to his dorm when he got back from the gym. 

The pack was hovering, and Yeosang found that he hated it. And it was all because of his damn sub-gender. Why did he even tell them? Why had he panicked when Hongjoong had tried to drag him to the hospital? It would have been so easy to lie! If he had been stronger-willed, they would never have known the truth about his secondary gender. Now, their guilt filled the air, making him feel like he was suffocating.

The smell of Yunho cooking wafted into his room, the aromatic smell making him nauseous. Yeosang let out a self-deprecating laugh as he got out of bed, the knot of anxiety in his stomach all too familiar. He hated everything about this. Perhaps he was a beta after all.

He slipped into his closet and blindly reached for Blueberry. The soft, familiar texture of the bunny’s fur grounded him. He closed his eyes and counted slowly, focusing on the sensation beneath his fingertips. After a few steady breaths, the tightness in his chest began to ease. When he could finally inhale without his stomach twisting in protest, he gave the bunny one last squeeze and headed for the kitchen.

"Morning," Yeosang greeted brightly.

Yunho had been looking in the fridge when he entered and was startled at the sound of his voice. "Shit, Yeosang, you scared me," he muttered, rubbing the spot on his head he had banged on the fridge shelf.

"Sorry," Yeosang grimaced as he headed for the dish cupboard. He’d gotten up early enough that the table hadn’t been set yet. Good.

Yunho spun to face him, hands planted on his hips. "Why did you wake up so early? You should have slept some more," the dancer chastised.

Yeosang shrugged as he grabbed the rice bowls to set the table. It wasn’t like he could just admit that the anxiety had clawed its way into his chest the second he realized Yunho was already awake, cooking for him again. Before his hospital visit, the two of them had always either gone without breakfast or had eaten something light and easy like toast or cereal. But now, Yunho kept getting up early just to prepare him a nutritious breakfast. 

Yeosang’s stomach twisted at the thought. What if Yunho was growing resentful?

He still remembered the way Yunho had teased San mercilessly after their new dorm assignments. He’d taunted him for being the only alpha in his dorm and bragged about finally sleeping in without being disturbed. And now, Yeosang had ruined it for him a whole year later. As penance, he made sure to get out of bed the moment he smelled breakfast cooking. Yeosang would help carry this load he had accidentally forced Yunho to bear. 

"I smelled the food," he offered simply.

Yunho hummed in response as he sauntered over. "That’s nice," he said dryly, taking the bowls from Yeosang and placing them on the counter. Then, with a firm grip on his shoulders, he turned Yeosang around. "I'll take care of this. Go wash up, please," he said with mock formality as he ushered him out of the kitchen.

Yeosang stood still, a little dazed. The alpha had been growing firmer in his refusal of Yeosang’s help as the days passed, but this was the first time that he had physically walked Yeosang out of the kitchen. 

"I can help," Yeosang protested.

"By sleeping for another thirty minutes," Yunho replied smoothly, already halfway back to the fridge.

Yeosang lingered for a moment longer, but when Yunho didn’t look back, he forced himself to nod and retreat. 

 By the time he finished showering and doing his morning skincare routine, breakfast was served. 

"Thanks for the food," Yeosang said politely. Yunho hummed in response. 

Breakfast was a quiet affair. Despite his bubbly persona, Yunho was not very talkative. In the early mornings, though, he was almost entirely silent unless prompted. It had never really bothered Yeosang before, but now, the silence pressed in on him oppressively. He shifted in his seat, trying to shake it off. 

Logically, he knew he shouldn't take it personally. Unfortunately, being logical hasn’t been one of his recent virtues. He picked at his rice, trying to ignore the knot tightening in his chest. His thoughts ran rampant, convincing him that Yunho must be growing frustrated. He was forced to wake up early, to cook, to clean, all because of him.  He couldn't help but worry that Yunho's behaviour was due to the frustration of waking early to feed him.  

"It’s good," he said after a bite, pushing the tension down with a forced smile. "Did you take cooking lessons without telling me?" His tone was light, a desperate attempt to return a semblance of normalcy to their interactions. 

"Hm," Yunho replied with a lazy smile. "We all had to."

"Right," Yeosang mumbled, his attempt deflating like a punctured balloon. He slumped a little in his chair. Of course. How could he have forgotten?

All the alphas had been required to take a mandatory three-month cooking course after their classification. Wooyoung had even joined in voluntarily during the second month and had bragged incessantly when his skills surpassed theirs. 

They finished the meal in silence, Yeosang barely aware of what he had eaten.

When it was time to clear the table, Yunho stood to help. Yeosang’s heart sank. He really wished he wouldn’t. It was already stressful enough knowing Yunho had added breakfast to his daily workload. If he took on the cleanup too, it would only pile on the resentment Yeosang was sure was growing.

He paused as an idea flitted through his head. 

Tomorrow, he impulsively decided, breakfast would be on him. Even if he had to wake before dawn or rehearse the recipe ten times the night before, he needed to do something to even the scales.

***

Yeosang woke to his alarm an hour earlier than necessary. Today was his first day rejoining group activities, and he needed it to start right.

 He groaned, his body protesting tiredly about being up so early, but his determination pushed him out of bed. He had prepared some recipes last night and made sure he had all the necessary ingredients before going to bed last night. Today, he would return the favor. If he did well enough, he might even try to convince Yunho to take turns making breakfast. He didn't want the alpha to think he was taking him for granted or even that he expected this from him. 

He knew it was more than that thought. Deep down, Yeosang was desperately trying to protect his heart. He was terrified. He hated how his omega purred contentedly when Yunho or the others provided for him, hated how safe it made him feel. It gave him a sense of security he knew he could not rely on. He had already left the pack, and soon he’d be leaving the group. If he got used to it only to lose it again, he didn’t know how he would fare. He needed to put them back on equal grounds, for his heart just as much as his fear of Yunho’s resentment.

So, squinting drowsily, he navigated the kitchen with dimmed lights to whip up the few things he knew how to make. He tried to mimic Yunho and clean as he went, but quickly realized he was in way over his head. He burned the eggs, cut himself three separate times, and forgot to start the rice cooker, resorting to instant rice in quiet frustration.

He should have taken those damned lessons too. 

Ten minutes later, Yunho padded into the kitchen, ruffling his already tousled hair and adjusting his oversized t-shirt to keep his shoulder from slipping out. His eyes were still puffy with sleep, and a faint crease marked one cheek from the pillow. He moved slowly, not quite awake, only to stop cold when he saw the table spread before him.

“What is this?” the alpha asked, voice low with surprise.

"I-um, heated up some leftovers and made a little extra," Yeosang gestured to the dishes with a nervous smile. "Come, sit."

Yunho didn’t smile back. His gaze lacked the twinkle of amusement Yeosang was so used to seeing as the taller man looked between him and the table. His omega curled up tightly, recognising he’d upset the alpha. 

"You shouldn't have," Yunho frowned as he sat, eyes skimming over the dishes.

Yeosang looked at the table with fresh eyes. The instant rice and the side dishes their parents had given them were the only things that looked decent. The egg rolls he'd made were overcooked, the pollack soup looked rather grey, and his attempt at Dalgona coffee hadn't gone too well with the time constraint.

"Don't do this again," Yunho said curtly, his frown deepening. "Sit."

"Okay," Yeosang murmured, working hard to keep his expression neutral as humiliation bloomed hot in his chest. He had clearly overestimated his cooking prowess. He hadn’t been considerate either, too caught up in his own thoughts and insecurities. Now, Yunho would be forced to sit through a poorly made meal. He sat across from the alpha, eyeing the lackluster spread before them. 

Twisting his fingers, he waited for Yunho to take a bite. When Yunho didn't pick up his chopsticks and just stared at the food with furrowed brows, Yeosang felt obliged to break the tense silence.

"It's not much, but it doesn’t taste bad," he said with forced brightness, lifting a piece of kimchi and placing it on Yunho’s rice with a small, hopeful smile. It was a safe bet and would hopefully snap Yunho out of his current mood.

Yunho's eyebrows shot up, and he focused his sleepy stare on him. Yeosang let out an awkward laugh, uncomfortable with the intensity of his stare.

"You don't have to eat the soup,” he added quickly. “I found the recipe online, so you might not like it." Yeosang brought his chopsticks to his mouth habitually, the cool metal comforting against his lips. He could already smell the sour edge of his scent creeping in, but was comforted by the fact that Yunho wouldn’t notice. So he just smiled wider, scrunching his eyes to make it seem natural.

"Yeosang-ah." 

"Hmm?" he hummed casually as he avoided Yunho’s face. He couldn’t stomach the frown that had settled on his usually bright features. 

"I’m sorry.”

Yeosang’s shoulders tensed.

"It’s okay, we can just have cereal." He began to stand, but Yunho’s hand shot out, catching his wrist.

"No," the alpha blurted. Surprised, Yeosang glanced at him and saw that his frown was gone, replaced by something softer. "I mean, I’m sorry for scolding you. I should’ve thanked you first," he said. 

"It's okay, you probably won’t even like it," Yeosang waved him off. "There’s toast too if you’d rather that." 

"No, no, no," Yunho shook his head quickly. Yunho was smiling now, the dark cloud that had been hovering over him since he entered dissipating. Yeosang relaxed slightly. "I was just worried. I know you're still not used to it, but omegas need more sleep than alphas and betas. Almost 3 hours more! I’d much rather you spend your morning resting."

"My body’s adapted," Yeosang said flatly. But his throat tightened as he spoke, and his eyes began to sting.  

The words reminded him of the bone-deep exhaustion that had settled in him over the years. The feeling of being cheated resurfaced, filling his chest. He had pushed himself to his breaking point trying to keep up with the alpha’s and when he had finally accepted that he was just weak after years of endless suffering, he found out that it hadn’t been his fault. Yeosang sank back into his seat, gaze lowered as he tried to regain control of his emotions. When had he gotten so bad at holding it all in?

"Yeosang." Yunho’s voice held a note of disapproval as he stood and came around the table. Yeosang tilted his head up, neck straining to meet the taller dancer’s eyes. "You've already spent so much time not being able to give your body what it needs." 

Yeosang tensed as Yunho brushed the hair from his face, holding it out of his eyes. The touch was unfamiliar in its intimacy. "And a lot of it is my fault, Yeosang. I should’ve kept cooking after we moved in together."

"It’s okay." The words came out clipped, surprising both of them. The topic clawed at something raw inside Yeosang, and he felt like he might burst into tears at any moment. 

"No, it’s not." Yunho wasn’t backing down. For all his easy-going nature, Yunho could be frustratingly stubborn. There would be no sidestepping this. 

Yunho dropped into a crouch beside Yeosang’s chair, his hand drifting from Yeosang’s temple to his jaw. "I was wrong. Even as a beta, I should have taken better care of you." 

Yeosang shook his head, lips pressed into a tight line. “No. It’s fine. I’m a grown man, Yunho. I can take care of myself just fine.”

"I know you can!" Yunho agreed quickly. "I’m not trying to take away from that. But… it doesn’t change the fact that I could have made it easier for you." 

Yeosang felt the dam in his chest begin to crack. He closed his eyes tightly and clenched his jaw in an attempt to push everything back down. They had to leave for the hair shop soon. He couldn't afford to fall apart over breakfast.

"It’s okay," he repeated adamantly, pushing Yunho’s hand away. "Let’s just eat, please. We don’t have much time." 

Yunho stood, but instead of returning to his seat, he pulled out the chair next to Yeosang. "Okay, but I'll just feel better knowing you're getting that extra hour, so please, let me handle breakfast."

The crack in Yeosang’s chest widened, and before he could stop himself, his mouth was already moving. 

"I don’t want to," he blurted. "There’s no need to change. I want all of you to stop treating me differently. I’m still me! Kang Yeosang! I haven’t changed. I’m the same person I’ve always been. I don’t want you guys to do all this just because I’m suddenly an omega. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. " 

His words echoed in the space between them, and Yeosang’s eyes went wide as his brain caught up.  

"Yeosang…" Yunho blinked, stunned into silence.

"Forget it, I shouldn’t have-" 

"I didn’t mean to-" Yunho cut himself off and instead surged forward, pulling Yeosang into a tight hug. Yeosang almost fell from the chair, catching himself against Yunho’s thighs. 

"I’m so sorry," Yunho whispered. He pulled back just enough to cup Yeosang’s face, brushing away the tears that had already started to fall. Yeosang wiped at them too, desperate to erase the evidence of his weakness.

"It’s not like that, Yeosang. I- yes, it has to do with you being an omega, but that’s not the only reason. I’ve always tried to do what’s best for you. All of us have.” Yunho’s hands dropped to his lap, , his shoulders slumping slightly. “You always say everything’s okay, so I just… the way we were caring for you before is clearly not enough. I didn’t know-   I thought I was doing what you needed before by giving you space to be more independent, but now…”

Yeosang’s eyes fluttered as he tried to follow Yunho’s broken thoughts.

"I don’t think I’m making much sense,” Yunho laughed breathlessly as he scrubbed a hand through his hair. “It’s just that…. Now, I know that you need certain things, and they’re all things I can easily provide. So why wouldn’t I? I’d do more if I just knew what you wanted."

Yunho was looking at him despairingly, an expression Yeosang found out of place on the dancer’s face. Yeosang slowly lifted his hand to Yunho’s forehead, trying to smooth the creases of his furrowed brow. Yunho closed his eyes briefly, catching Yeosang’s wrist and pressing it gently to his own. 

"I…," Yeosang looked at his wrist as their scents mingled faintly. Yunho’s words played back in his mind. He hadn’t denied that things were different now, that their behavior had changed because of what Yeosang was. And oddly enough, that honesty soothed something inside him. It meant their care hadn’t come from some sudden burst of affection. It wasn’t really about who he was but rather what he was; it was about the instincts it triggered in them.

And it gave Yeosang the strength to fortify his heart, to not allow himself to be lulled by their kindness. Because kindness rooted in instinct wasn’t the same as love, and he’d do well to remember that.

"Maybe it’s hard to believe me, but Yeosang?" Yunho grabbed Yeosang’s chin with his free hand, guiding his gaze back up. "Can you try? I’ll do my best to meet you where you’re at, so can you meet me halfway? I’m not running around caring for random omegas, am I?'' Yunho's thumb caressed Yeosang’s scent gland as he spoke. "I’m only doing this because you’re Kang Yeosang, and I care about you . A lot. Just… let me take care of you, hmm?"

Yunho’s words shattered the walls he had just painstakingly constructed around his heart.   He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. Yunho’s pleas made his heart ache, and the desperation in his gaze wore down on his resolve. He wanted to believe him. Most of him already did. But a quiet voice in the back of his mind - the part that never stopped preparing for disappointment - reminded him that it was too good to be true. That Yunho was just telling him what he wanted to hear. That trusting him would only lead to pain.

And Yeosang hated himself for that. Hated the way it degraded Yunho’s character. Hated how it made him scared to hope.

Chapter Text

"Where is he?"

Jongho shoved open Yunho’s bedroom door, the handle slamming against the wall. Yunho startled, tugging off his headset and swiveling in his chair to face the younger alpha.

"Jongho, what the-," Yunho cut himself off with an exaggerated inhale, then plastered on a too-wide smile. "Hello." 

The golden glow of the setting sun filled the bedroom, streaming through the window and bathing Yunho in a soft halo that made his irritation look almost holy. Jongho smirked at the thinly veiled annoyance and breezed past him toward the bed, calling his name. 

There was already a lump beneath the bed cover, and the room was saturated with the familiar scent of cinnamon, threaded through with Yunho’s fresh, earthy scent. Jongho’s shoulders relaxed at the familiarity of it all. He wanted to crawl in beside him, but unfortunately, he had just returned from a solo schedule and had yet to shower or change. Instead, he perched on the edge of the mattress, giving the lump a light tap in greeting. 

"Why do you never wait for permission to enter?" Yunho turned in his chair to face him.

"I knocked," Jongho argued, slapping the lump harder when his light tap was ignored. The omega beneath the covers groaned and threw the blanket back, sitting up to glare at him with bleary eyes. Jongho giggled at the sight. Wooyoung’s dark hair was defying gravity, his cheeks decorated with sleep lines, and his entire expression was a crumpled mixture of annoyance and exhaustion.

"No manners, whatsoever," Yunho muttered, slipping his headphones back on. "You owe me three kisses now," he said guilefully as he turned back to his desktop. 

Jongho scoffed. The space between the bed and the desk wasn’t large, so he simply reached over and pulled Yunho’s chair closer.

"Now?" Yunho asked, surprise filling his face. 

Jongho hummed in response. 

He knew he was complicated. It had even taken him a long time to figure himself out and even longer to explain it to anyone else. Initially, he had thought that he disliked physical affection altogether. He used to flinch when Wooyoung kissed him, bristle when San squeezed his cheeks, and snap when Seonghwa grabbed at his thighs. That discomfort had shaped his early relationships with the pack and had pulled him towards Yeosang. Yeosang was calm, predictable, and didn't take liberties with Jongho's body. 

As Jongho had grown more comfortable around the elder, he noticed that he had no problem being affectionate with him. When he was with Yeosang, he was free to do as he pleased. Touch came on his terms. He learned that he didn't hate it, per se. He just needed control of when, where, and how he was touched.

That epiphany had greatly improved his relationship with the rest of the pack. When he’d shared it with the others, the entire dynamic shifted. They still took their liberties and tried to extort extra affection from him at any given point, but they always remained within the confines of his boundaries. Yunho, most recently, had gotten creative with those boundaries. He’d started inventing "rules" and demanding kisses as payment when Jongho broke them. Like Jongho had by entering his room unannounced. Payment could be delayed until Jongho was ready but the cost was always subject to Yunho’s ever-changing whims.

Jongho held his chair firmly as he teasingly planted three consecutive kisses on the dancer’s soft lips. Yunho caught him before he could retreat, slotting their mouths in a proper kiss. Jongho could feel Yunho’s smile against his mouth and couldn't stop one from forming on his face as well. When the kiss became more teeth than lip, Yunho pulled back and squished his cheeks, stealing a few more before freeing him with a triumphant grin.

"You're spending too much time around Wooyoung," Jongho grumbled, wiping his mouth the moment Yunho freed him. Yunho laughed loudly, turning back to his setup.

"That's a compliment, Yunho-ya," Wooyoung giggled, scrambling to his knees and draping himself across Jongho’s back. He nuzzled into his neck with giddy delight, taking full advantage of Jongho’s current openness to touch. The moment Wooyoung's nose brushed his scent gland, Jongho’s coffee scent bloomed sharply into the air. 

Wooyoung hummed in appreciation, teeth sinking into the flesh lightly before pulling back. "I deserve a kiss, too." 

"No, you don’t." Jongho shrugged him off, pushing Wooyoung back until he flopped dramatically onto the bed again.

"Yes, I do," Wooyoung grinned widely, "especially if you want to know where Sangie is." The omega raised an eyebrow, looking extremely pleased with his bargaining chip. Jongho glanced over his shoulder at Yunho, hoping for help, but the older alpha was conveniently busy and doing a great job at pretending they didn't exist. 

Jongho rolled his eyes. "Fine." 

He leaned down, straddling the smug omega and planted the wettest, sloppiest kiss he could manage without grossing himself out. Wooyoung immediately struggled to escape, pushing at his shoulders insistently.

"Okay, okay," he squealed as Jongho refused to let up. 

Jongho sat back, keeping his expression carefully neutral despite the flicker of satisfaction tugging at his lips. He tilted his head threateningly when Wooyoung took too long catching his breath.

“I’ll tell you, wait!” the omega gasped, propping himself up with a hand on his chest. He watched Jongho closely now, his earlier teasing faded into something softer. “You’re a monster,” he huffed, shaking out his hair. “He went out with Soobinnie for dinner."

"Choi Soobin?" 

Wooyoung nodded. "They made last-minute plans."

Jongho didn’t react, at least not visibly. But something inside him clenched, sharp and unwanted. He nodded once, as if that explained everything. Because it did. Yeosang had turned down dinner with him in favour of eating with another alpha. Jongho should have recognized the quiet rejection for what it was when Yeosang had politely declined due to prior scheduling, but he hadn’t even noticed it. The pain quickly morphed into anger, and he stood abruptly. 

"Whoa there, big guy," Wooyoung sat up, reaching but hesitant to touch him. Jongho stood quickly, moving out of Wooyoung’s reach. He could smell the rancid burning of his coffee scent filling the room and knew Yunho had picked up on it from the careful way he set his headphones down.

Deep down, Jongho knew he had no one but himself to blame, but it was easier to point outward. He had been the one who had stepped aside stupidly in some twisted belief that Yeosang would appreciate the space. He’d hoped that by holding back, he could show he respected Yeosang’s boundaries; that he was willing to accept Yeosang’s pack departure. He’d steered clear of the omega, making sure not to hover like he'd noticed some of the others doing.  He had failed to take into consideration that all of this mess had occurred because of how much space they had given the man to begin with.

"I'm going to go wash up. Let me know when he gets back," Jongho told them, trying to keep his tone casual. They both nodded, Yunho looking between the two of them as he tried to pick up what he had missed. 

Jongho didn’t stick around to explain. He left the room quickly, needing distance before his scent soured even further. He didn’t want the coddling that his distressed scent would trigger from the two.

Jongho ignored it, instead rushing out of the room. He had to get his emotions under control, and it was easier to do it alone. 

Jongho appreciated the silence that welcomed him as he entered his dorm. Hongjoong was, in all likelihood, still holed up in his studio, and he had just left Wooyoung curled up in Yunho’s bed. Jongho made a beeline for his bedroom and set about starting his nightly routine, appreciating the comfort of a routine. It gave him something to do: something to control. 

As he removed the light makeup he’d worn for his schedule, his brain started to wander. His tendency to pull back at moments like this made him consider his own response to Yeosang’s distress. Had he projected his instincts onto someone who didn’t function the same way? Yeosang had said he needed solitude sometimes. Had Jongho taken that one truth and used it as an excuse to stay distant?

If so, he needed to change tactics immediately. Because his current behaviour had pushed his omega into the arms of another man.

In the shower, Jongho blasted an upbeat playlist in the hopes that it would drown out the bitterness that had settled in his chest. He really had no cause for jealousy. Soobin was just Yeosang's long-time friend. There was nothing out of the ordinary in the two of them meeting for a quick meal, Jongho tried to convince himself. Jongho himself often goes out with his friends all the time. So why was it suddenly irritating him so much? 

The answer hit before he could finish the thought. 

Yeosang was currently in some random restaurant, unmarked, unscented, and with a random alpha. Jongho hadn’t even had the opportunity to scent him this past week. Jongho gritted his teeth in annoyance, growling low to release some of the tension.

By the time he stepped out of the shower, he’d only worked himself up more. His sour scent suffused his room, adding to his irritation. Jongho opened his windows and turned on his air purifier, hoping to combat the oppressive scent. As he dressed, he decided that seeing Yeosang would be counterproductive, considering the mood he was in. Yeosang was still very cautious around the pack. Though Jongho had noticed he didn’t seem as tense around Yunho or Seonghwa, he still seemed constantly on edge. He didn’t want the omega to see him at such a low point. 

Jongho yanked his t-shirt over his head and headed back to the bathroom to grab his phone. He would let Yunho and Wooyoung know he was going to sleep and to forget about his request. 

A knock sounded out in his bedroom as he picked up his phone and unlocked it.

"What?" Jongho called out, voice more peeved than he intended. When no one responded, Jongho grew more irritated. He grumbled under his breath as he made his way to the door. 

"I said wh- Hyung!" Jongho's eyebrows shot up in surprise to find a very nervous-looking omega at his door. He'd taken a startled step backward when Jongho had whipped the door open and was now staring at him like a deer in the headlights. 

"Oh, are- are you busy? I- I can come back," Yeosang stammered, taking another step back. He was still fully dressed, clearly having come straight to Jongho the moment he returned. 

Jongho’s eyes caught on the soft pink cardigan layered over his otherwise simple outfit. Yeosang tended to lean towards darker colours when he dressed himself, but something about the pastel hue made him seem even softer. It filled him with a burst of warmth. He was so impossibly cute.  

"Oh, no, I thought you were… never mind, come in, hyung," Jongho opened the door wider in invitation. Yeosang hesitated at the threshold. Jongho could see the exact moment his scent reached Yeosang. The omega stiffened, eyes darting to him with cautious curiosity. Jongho plastered on a smile, hoping to trick his body into believing he was happy.  

"Are you okay?" Yeosang asked worriedly as he stepped into his room. 

Any pleasure he may have felt from having Yeosang’s concern evaporated as he caught a whiff of caramel mixed in with Yeosang's cherry scent. He coughed, covering his sudden growl with a hand to his mouth. “Sorry, something in my throat,” he said tightly, coughing again for effect.

Yeosang smiled serenely, immediately brightening his entire demeanour, but warning bells sounded loudly in Jongho’s head. His scent hadn’t softened, instead growing more bitter with each passing second. What had caused such an intense reaction? Was it just being around Jongho that had him on edge? 

"You need water?" Yeosang asked, looking around his room in a bid to avoid eye contact. Jongho watched the omega study the empty walls of his bedroom as though he were in an art exhibit. He hated seeing Yeosang look so uncomfortable and out of his depth in a space that was perfectly safe to him.

"I’m fine," he said after a moment. "You can sit wherever," Jongho gestured to his desk chair and his bed.

"It’s okay, I know it's late," Yeosang said, eyes darting between Jongho and the door. "Yunho just said that you asked me to drop by when I got back. I can... go?" 

Jongho made a quick mental note to give Yunho a gift for going the extra mile. He had been scared that seeing Yeosang in this mood would only cause problems, but just being around Yeosang was calming him down. It settled his alpha to have him near after the heightened jealousy, even as he itched to smother the caramel scent with his own coffee aroma.

"No, no, stay. I was just going to catch up on my drama," Jongho quickly refuted. "I wanted to hang out earlier, but you were busy, so I told Yunho to let me know when you got back," Jongho lied easily. 

"You want to… hang out now?" Yeosang asked, glancing up through his lashes, the sweetness creeping back into his scent. Jongho nearly groaned. Seriously, how was he this damn cute?  

"Mm," Jongho nodded happily, those few words washing away all the jealousy that had been suffocating him. He gave Yeosang his first genuine smile of the night, and the omega recognised it, his own demeanour lighting up in response. He turned away, clearly flustered.

"You changed a lot in here," Yeosang commented as he walked further into the room, fingers trailing lightly over the edge of Jongho’s desk.

“Yeah, it’s messy, I know,” he said, climbing onto the center of the bed and sitting cross-legged. Yeosang hummed noncommittally, still looking around.

Jongho watched him take in his bedroom, looking at it through fresh eyes. It had taken him forever to decide on how to furnish and decorate, so now, even though he had all his main furnishings, it still wasn’t pulled together. His mess littered the space, giving it a lived-in feel despite the lack of decor. His hamper was overflowing, and his desk was littered with random items. 

Yeosang was looking around slowly, taking in the most minute details carefully. Seeing Yeosang studying his room filled him with guilt. It was insane that one of his pack members was so unfamiliar with his personal space. He silently vowed to do his best to get Yeosang to spend more time here somehow.

"How was dinner?"

Jongho hated this feeling of uncertainty as he floundered for things to discuss. It never used to permeate the space before, but now, he found himself overthinking everything. What had once felt as natural as breathing now felt like trying to fill his lungs through a straw. He missed the natural chemistry and camaraderie that he had shared with the elder before. He wondered if this was how Yeosang had felt all this time; floundering for solid ground as he tried to pretend he wasn’t drowning. Had what had felt so easy to Jongho been hard for Yeosang? 

"Fine, we had chicken and beer," Yeosang answered, picking up a bottle and rotating it in his hand. "What did you eat?" The older avoided looking in his direction, instead focusing on the ingredient list of one of his supplements. 

"Nothing." 

As expected, that caught Yeosang’s attention. Jongho quickly smothered the smug satisfaction that bloomed in his chest. It wasn’t fair, but he couldn’t help it. Yeosang still cared about him. 

"What, why?"  Yeosang frowned, already pulling out his phone as he moved toward the bed. "Are you hungry? Should we order something? I think the jjajangmyeon place is still open." 

Jongho hummed in response, settling back against the headboard as he watched Yeosang scroll through his phone. "Don’t worry, I’m not hungry," he promised. "Come, sit with me, let's just watch something," Jongho patted his bed in invitation.

He hoped Yeosang would accept. He wanted the elder close so that Jongho’s scent could settle on his skin and mask the cloying caramel that still clung to the omega’s skin. Yeosang locked his phone and looked at him hesitantly. Jongho could see the gears turning in his head as Yeosang contemplated how to respond. 

"I'm dirty," Yeosang finally answered, gesturing to his clothes. Yeosang was still in the outfit he had gone to dinner in and, like him, did not like mixing the outdoors with where they slept. 

Jongho almost protested, swearing it was fine. Anything Yeosang did was fine. Before he could speak, though, a better idea struck him.

"Hmm, then why don’t you jump in the shower?” he suggested with a sweet smile. “I’ll find you some clothes to wear." 

He tilted his head, expression as innocent as he could make it. He already knew Yeosang probably wouldn’t go for the shower suggestion, but he offered it anyway. The older would probably suggest going back to his room to shower and change before returning, but Jongho didn’t want that. He wanted Yeosang in his clothes. Jongho was well aware that the elder would find it difficult to deny him completely, so he added the showering part in the hopes that Yeosang would try to meet him halfway. It was a little manipulative, sure. But Jongho had never been above using Yeosang’s soft spot for him to his advantage.

Despite the mature way Jongho carried himself, he was still technically the youngest member of the pack. Every now and then, he leaned into the affection his hyungs reserved just for him. Before joining ATEEZ, Jongho had always been the eldest, whether it was with his brother or with his friends. Fans and even the other members often noted how he still carried that energy over to their group dynamics. Being an alpha had only reinforced that commanding part of his personality. But Jongho had long since learned to navigate both roles, and he used whatever best suited his current need. And right now, he needed Yeosang to stop smelling like the other alpha.

"How about I just change?" As expected, Yeosang compromised. He looked at him with wide eyes, twisting his fingers nervously as though worried Jongho would force him into the shower. Another time, Jongho might have. Now, though, he was being extra careful not to push Yeosang too much. 

"Okay," Jongho agreed easily, hopping out of bed with a grin. Yeosang smiled weakly in return, recognising that he had been tricked but too good-natured to go back on his word. 

Jongho rushed to his closet before Yeosang could say anything. Jongho darted to his closet before Yeosang could say anything else, grabbing a pair of soft shorts and a worn-in t-shirt. He handed them over with a cheerful smile, making sure Yeosang couldn’t mistake his enthusiasm for anything other than genuine. He wanted Yeosang to be fully confident that Jongho wanted him there, especially with his concerns about not fitting in with the pack and them being “together” without him. 

Without waiting for more hesitation, Jongho gently nudged Yeosang toward the en suite and closed the door behind him before he could overthink it. While Yeosang changed, Jongho busied himself prepping his bed. He felt like a nesting omega as he carefully fluffed and stacked his pillows so they could recline comfortably as they watched his TV. 

When Yeosang emerged, Jongho was fully settled. He looked up and felt his heart thud. The white shirt he’d picked nearly swallowed Yeosang’s frame, hanging off his shoulders and falling to mid-thigh, almost hiding the blue shorts beneath. But Jongho’s satisfaction was short-lived, tinged with sorrow as he noted the way his clothes accentuated Yeosang’s weight loss. 

Noticing his stare, Yeosang paused at his bedside, tugging lightly at the hem of the shirt. "It’s a bit big," he commented self-consciously. 

"It’s perfect, you look cute," Jongho replied. 

Yeosang’s expression shuttered immediately, and he cleared his throat. Feeling the air grow a little awkward, Jongho rushed to move past it. "Come, sit," he offered quickly, pulling the blanket back in invitation.

Yeosang glanced at the empty spot beside him for a split second before bracing his shoulders. "What are you watching?" Yeosang asked as he climbed in beside him. 

" You're going to watch the first episode of Queen of Tears," Jongho declared, earning a startled laugh from the omega. Jongho grinned in response. Everyone around him had grown exasperated with his obsession with the drama, but he found a certain joy in that. Besides, it really was a good show.

"Okay,” Yeosang smiled, leaning back against the pillows, “let’s see what all the fuss is about then." 

Jongho grabbed the remote on his nightstand and turned on the TV mounted on the wall opposite his bed. "You’ll love it, I promise."

As the show started, Jongho took the opportunity to rub his wrist against Yeosang’s arm. His clothes had done a decent job at masking Soobin’s scent, but Jongho wanted to wash it away completely. Yeosang glanced at their joined arms for a long moment. It had been a long while since Jongho had scented him like this, and he wondered if the omega would pull away like he used to. He hadn’t seemed to mind Yunho’s new scenting obsession, though, so Jongho was hoping for the same grace to be shown towards him. When Yeosang just turned back to the TV without a word, Jongho smiled victoriously. 

It had been a while since he scented Yeosang, longer than he could remember, to be quite frank. He missed the closeness that came with the mixture of their scents. The nostalgically familiar sensory explosion of their intermingling scents had him desperate for more. Jongho had long learned to rein in that desire back. He had become an expert at denying himself over the years. He had learned not to cross the invisible lines they had drawn, but that annoying, sweet caramel scent was stubborn. It taunted Jongho as no matter how long he scented Yeosang, it refused to be washed out.

And before he knew it, instinct took over, catching them both by surprise.

"Jongho?" Yeosang’s voice was quiet.

"Hmm?" Jongho pulled his gaze from the TV to meet his gaze. Yeosang tugged at his hold gently, bringing his attention to their hands. 

At some point, Jongho had mindlessly brought Yeosang’s hand to his neck and was rubbing it against his scent gland. 

"Oh!" Jongho recoiled, dropped Yeosang’s hand like it burned. "Sorry, I didn’t reali- I wasn’t thinking," Jongho quickly apologised, tucking his hands under his thighs to keep from reaching out for the older. 

No matter how distracted he had been, he should never have crossed this line. The neck gland, tucked below the ear and along the curve of the throat, was almost sacred. Most reserved it for mates or lovers. Even among close friends, it required caution, intimacy, and clear-cut consent. Jongho’s stomach rolled as guilt threatened to overwhelm him. Yeosang had barely begun to relax near him, and here Jongho was, pushing past his boundaries. 

"It’s okay, it was an accident," Yeosang consoled him, rubbing where his wrist had touched Jongho. 

Jongho shifted uncomfortably, swallowing harshly as a darker need simmered in his gut. Now that he had done it, he wanted more . He wanted Yeosang drenched in his scent, swallowed in it until his own cherry scent was entirely smothered. He wanted to claim him in a way that would override everything else. He wanted to remind him where he belonged.

"Hyung," Jongho rasped, voice catching in his throat. Yeosang looked up at him, brows slightly raised.

"Yeah?" he asked.

 He had no right to ask—especially not after what happened with Seonghwa, not after watching Yeosang crumble under the weight of unwanted touch. But desire clawed at him, reckless and aching. He knew he shouldn’t, knew it was selfish, but the pull was too strong.

Jongho’s eyes dropped to the soft slope of his neck, to the place just above his collarbone where his scent gland rested. He had no right to ask, especially after witnessing Yeosang break down into a panicked mess after Seonghwa’s scenting. But desire made him reckless, and Jongho couldn’t resist the lure. 

He knew he was wrong, even as the words came out. "Can I?" he asked brazenly.

Chapter Text

"Can I?" 

Those two words out of Jongho’s mouth had Yeosang’s brain short-circuiting completely. He knew exactly what Jongho was asking, and yet, he couldn’t process it. His immediate instinct was to tilt his head back and bare his neck in offering, but alarm sirens went off before he could move. 

Jongho’s eyes stayed fixed on his throat, gaze flitting to his face every few seconds as he waited for Yeosang’s answer.  

Since the moment Yeosang stepped into this room, he had felt split in two. One part of him was nervous. Jongho’s sour scent had filled the air, and the tension had rolled off him in waves. Yeosang had assumed he was upset that he’d turned him down earlier. It had felt terrible to do, especially considering the earnest expression Jongho had worn when he’d asked. But he hadn’t been able to cancel on Soobin. After everything he had gone through, Yeosang had just wanted to be with someone who knew nothing about what he was going through. Someone he could pretend normalcy with. 

The other part of him, however, had been driven by the desperate need to appease. And that part had walked him through Jongho’s door, despite the exhaustion dragging at his bones. 

Maybe that was why Jongho had slipped past every wall he’d built. Not only had he cheekily coaxed Yeosang into changing clothes, but he had even gotten him to comfortably lounge on his bed. There was something in the younger’s quiet confidence that disarmed Yeosang completely and made him forget himself.

So when Jongho had scent-marked his wrist, it had barely even registered as strange. Scenting was second nature to Yeosang, a natural part of life he never used to think of. He’d grown up doing it without thinking: with his family, his friends, even with Soobin just hours earlier. Jongho’s coffee scent blended with his own, hauntingly familiar. It had distracted him from the series, and he’d stared blankly at the TV. The combination wrapped around him like a memory, tugging him back to quiet mornings when Jongho would crawl into his bed under the guise of waking him up, only for the two of them to fall asleep curled into each other until Seonghwa noticed they were missing. It reminded him of a life before the possessiveness of the pack had pushed him from their inner circle. 

He’d stopped scenting them eventually. Yeosang had been so careful not to trigger their jealousy that, at some point, he had felt crazy for trying. They’d get possessive when they caught his scent on each other, yet still reached for him, still scented him like it meant nothing. The contradictions had driven him mad. The pack had continued to scent him, only to get riled up when his cherry scent settled on their skin. After a while, though, they had stopped. 

But now, not only was Jongho attempting to rekindle their wrist scenting, he was attempting to take it even further. Neck scenting was far more intimate than the scenting Yeosang was used to. It was almost sacred. Intimate in a way a kiss never could be. Casual kisses happened. Casual neck scenting didn’t.

  "Huh?" Yeosang let out a small laugh as he pressed his hand to his neck. 

Jongho leaned back slightly, putting a little more space between them even as he took Yeosang’s hand into his own.

"Can I scent you?" Jongho asked again, deliberately. He nodded toward Yeosang’s neck, leaving no room for misinterpretation. 

Yeosang’s heart pounded so hard he was certain Jongho could hear it.

Yeosang was baffled. Why would Jongho want that? He had to know what it meant. It wasn’t quite a claim, but it was close enough to stir up thoughts Yeosang had buried deep and sworn not to touch.

He thought back to how the evening had gone, tracing the moments with new suspicion. Jongho had been unusually attentive. From the second Yeosang walked in, there had been something deliberate in his actions. Attempting to get him to shower, offering his own clothes, and sitting close enough to scent his wrist. From the start, he’d been determined to mix their scents from the start.

Yeosang’s confusion deepened. Did Jongho think he smelled bad? He resisted the urge to discreetly sniff his own shoulder. Did he smell? But even if he did, why would Jongho go this far? 

The younger man was still fully fixated on him, completely still like he was holding his breath. There was something unreadable buried in Jongho’s expression, but the want was clear. He wanted Yeosang to say yes, and Yeosang, for the life of him, couldn’t understand why.

His skin prickled where Jongho’s gaze had settled, and his own scent felt wrong now. He twitched, torn between offering his throat and running. The worst part was that he wanted to give in. His omega pushed him to submit as his body ached to let Jongho have his way. But his mind was screaming, and Jongho didn’t seem to realise the line he was asking him to cross.

He didn’t want to hurt the young alpha’s feelings by outright refusing him, but Yeosang still could not allow it. The others would notice, and no matter what promises they'd made about Yeosang being free to touch and be touched, this was different. This would not be forgiven. No matter how they presented themselves, Yeosang knew they were too territorial for this. Even Jongho would’ve snapped if one of the others had scented his neck. 

Which only brought Yeosang back to the burning question: why? Had Yeosang done something to give him the wrong idea? Had he leaned too close? Did Jongho feel obligated? 

“Hyung?” Jongho pressed, rubbing his thumb along Yeosang’s wrist gland. 

"Oh, um, well," Yeosang stammered. He looked around the room wildly, trying to think of a way to let the younger one down without hurting his feelings. Something about the way Jongho was looking at him made it impossible to say no. He contemplated just giving in and allowing Jongho to have what he asked for. 

He pulled his hand away violently as the word yes settled on his tongue. The fallout would be disastrous. The pack would already be displeased with the blend in his scent since Jongho had rubbed Yeosang’s wrist against his neck. He’d already seen the way their noses had wrinkled in distaste whenever Yunho would scent him at breakfast before work. Whatever Jongho’s reason was, Yeosang knew his heart wouldn’t survive the consequences.

So he did what he always did.

"Oh, wow, look at the time. Well, this was fun," Yeosang let out an exaggerated yawn, forcing himself to smile. "I’m really tired. It’s been a long day. I’ll see you in the morning." He pushed himself off the bed, arms stretching just as exaggeratedly.

Jongho sat up straighter, eyes narrowing as he watched the performance unfold. Yeosang was positive the younger saw through his little act, but he had committed to the bit. When Jongho didn’t respond, Yeosang took it as his escape opportunity.

"Alright, goodnight!" Yeosang smiled tightly and rushed to the door.

"Hyung." 

The single word landed with more force than a shout, and then there was nothing. He froze, fingers tightening on the door handle. When Jongho didn’t fill the silence, Yeosang turned slowly. The alpha was perched at the edge of the bed, mouth tight. The clear disappointment on the younger’s face had Yeosang’s heart beating harshly against his ribcage.

“You know you can just say no, right?” Jongho asked, his voice carrying the visible sentiment on his face. 

"What?" Yeosang croaked. Jongho was clearly bothered, but Yeosang wasn’t sure exactly why. Was his excuse too forced? 

“You can say no, hyung,” Jongho repeated, with a slight shrug. “You don’t always have to run away.” Jongho’s gaze had darkened, and he was looking at Yeosang with an expression he’d never seen on him before. The mixture of hurt, disappointment, and annoyance had Yeosang’s throat closing. 

"Run away?" Yeosang repeated dumbly.

Jongho sighed loudly and stood up. "Yes, run away. You always do this! As soon as something gets uncomfortable, you just run off and hide.” Though his expression remained lax, Jongho’s scent had turned sharp and bitter once again. “You did it when you broke our bonds. You did it when you found out you’re an omega. You’re doing it now!” His voice rose slightly, and he frustratingly shoved his hair out of his face. “You don’t give anyone a chance to help try to fix it. You just run. Maybe it worked before, but I refuse to let it continue." 

Yeosang stared at him in complete shock, unable to refute anything he had said. He wanted to argue, but he couldn’t find the words. Because Jongho was right.

He had always avoided confrontation. In most parts of his life, it kept the peace and worked in his favour. People liked him that way —quiet, agreeable, and easy to be around. But with the pack, it had never been about peace. It had been how he protected his heart. He didn’t have to risk saying the wrong thing and see disappointment twist their faces or hear resentment in their voices. Deep down, Yeosang feared that if he ever said what he really thought, if he ever asked the questions that kept him awake at night, they’d confirm all his worst fears. He didn’t want to hurt them, but more than anything, he was terrified they’d hurt him.

"It’s unfair to all of us if you just continue to bottle things in,” Jongho said, quieter now. “I’m not a mind reader, hyung. None of us are. Just say what you mean instead of shrugging and having us play a guessing game." The calmness in his tone did nothing to mask how harshly they tore at Yeosang’s chest. Again, he was left floundering with nothing to say. Jongho’s words echoed Yunho’s sentiment from the other day, just more direct. 

 “You always say everything’s okay.” 

“I didn’t know.” 

“I thought I was doing what you needed before.”

Yeosang’s vision blurred. His heart was racing now, a frantic thudding that pulsed in his neck, his ears, his wrists. 

"I-," his voice cracked, and nothing else came out. 

His lungs burned. Everything in his body was telling him to leave, but that would just reinforce Jongho’s accusation. The air was thinning, making it harder to think straight. How did he explain his reasoning without exposing his heart? As the impending sense of doom approached, Yeosang realised he had no choice but to run again. He didn’t want to have another breakdown in front of him. The last time had been embarrassing enough. 

"Sorry," he squeezed out before yanking open Jongho’s door and rushing to the front door. He could hear Jongho following him, but he didn’t look back, just trying to get to somewhere quiet. 

"Yeosang? What’s wrong?" Yeosang heard Seonghwa’s voice and for a second, he faltered.

He almost turned around. He wanted to. Seonghwa had always been his safe place, even though he hadn’t known it. He craved his hyung’s grounding presence, the non-judgmental affection. But his stomach lurched violently, bile crawling up his throat, and he couldn’t focus on anything but the sheer will it took not to be sick in the foyer. 

His throat burned, and he swallowed harshly. He could distantly make out the muffled sounds of Seonghwa stopping Jongho as he tried to figure out what was happening. Grabbing his shoes, Yeosang ran out of the dorm barefoot and raced towards the stairwell, silently praying that it would be empty. 

The heavy metal door slammed behind him. Yeosang stumbled and collapsed to the concrete floor of the stairwell, clutching his chest as he tried to breathe.

Thankfully, he was aware he was having a panic attack; it made it a lot easier to pull himself out. He tried breathing through his nose but immediately felt even more suffocated. So he just focused on taking any breaths, deeper each time. 

Yeosang felt for his pulse under his jaw and found it throbbing under his jaw. He focused his attention on his heartbeat as he counted his breaths. His heartbeat slowed, his panic receding with it. He leaned back against the cold wall, his whole body trembling with the adrenaline rush. 

With the worst part of it over, Yeosang shakily put his shoes on and headed up to his dorm room, scared of what tomorrow would bring. 

***

A loud thud startled Yeosang out of his shallow sleep. He straightened up, blinking sleepily as he looked around. The flood of sounds that had functioned as white noise sharpened into distinct voices, the muffled chatter of strangers bleeding back into his awareness.

He was in the waiting room of a major broadcasting station, waiting for the final stage to begin so the winner could be announced. Across the room, one of their managers crouched beside a staff member, helping gather the scattered contents of a spilled tote bag.

Yeosang stretched with a quiet yawn. ATEEZ had already wrapped up their special performance and had about an hour left before makeup touch-ups. Since Yeosang’s night had been filled with a restless night of tossing and turning, he’d tried to squeeze in a catnap. With all the bustle happening around him, Yeosang had finally been able to get out of his head long enough to doze off while seated. 

It was laughable, really, that he used to think dissolving the bonds would at least mean better sleep. Instead, insomnia lingered, fed by the void they left behind. 

Last night had been particularly rough. Jongho’s words wouldn’t stop replaying in his mind. The harsh truth in them filled him with a shame he couldn’t ignore. Yeosang had no doubt the others knew by now. Jongho hadn’t exactly hidden his irritation. He’d even heard the front door creak open late into the night as Yunho left. Of course, they had talked. And once again, Yeosang had been left on the outside looking in, reduced to nothing more than a problem passed between them.

He didn’t even blame them. He wouldn’t have said anything even if he had been present. It was embarrassing how accurate Jongho’s read on him had been. Yeosang couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he had handled everything wrong because, true to Jongho’s words, Yeosang had chosen to run again. Even this morning, he had headed to the gym early to avoid breakfast with Yunho and had conveniently returned just in time for their manager to arrive for the pickup. Yunho had quietly handed him a packed lunchbox with the breakfast he’d missed, making him feel even worse about his avoidant behaviour. 

Maybe he should have just communicated with them better. Maybe then, things would not be so strained right now. 

Since the bond break, Yeosang felt even more awkward being around them. He found it difficult to keep up his on-camera persona without having the emotional tether now to secretly gauge their feelings. Even his relationship with Yunho, whom he spent the most time with, felt distant in this strange new way. It was as though everyone was holding something back, showing him only their polite and happy sides. It felt uncanny.

“Yeosang-ah,” Seonghwa’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Yeah?” he responded, blinking up at the older omega.

“You’re exhausted. Go lie down,” Seonghwa said gently, holding his hand out in invitation. 

Yeosang shook his head, even as his own hand slipped into Seonghwa’s without thinking. His gaze flitted to the corner of the room reserved for the omegas' midday nap. He couldn't see past the partitions, but he knew Wooyoung and Mingi had already gone to lie down.

"I'm okay," he declined politely. His fingers curled reflexively around the familiar warmth, and Seonghwa squeezed back lightly.

"Yunho told me you woke up early.” Seonghwa insisted. “You need to get some rest before the award stage.”

Yeosang glanced across the room at the mentioned alpha. Yunho was seated with Jongho and Hongjoong, the three engaged in a hushed, heated conversation. With scent blockers on and no bonds to rely on, Yeosang had no idea what they were talking about. However, judging by their body language, it wasn’t a light-hearted conversation. But with the way Yunho and Hongjoong seemed to have cornered Jongho, Yeosang couldn’t help but feel like they were talking about last night.

The thought made his mouth go dry, and he had to force himself to focus on Seonghwa.

"I'm fine,” Yeosang said again. “I'm used to staying up." 

The idea of lying down in the omega corner made his skin crawl. There were too many people in the waiting room. "What’s wrong with the guys, though?" he probed.

"Nothing," Seonghwa said a little too quickly. Yeosang turned his attention back to the older omega with an arched brow, but Seonghwa only offered a serene smile. "Probably just a game or something,” he said, as if that explained the sharpness in Yunho’s gestures or the tightness in Jongho’s jaw.

Yeosang frowned. If it had been just Yunho and Jongho, he might have been inclined to believe it. However, Hongjoong looked equally invested, whispering just as heatedly as the other two. 

He didn’t push, but still, his chest felt tight again. 

“Forget them,” Seonghwa said softly. “Come on, you need a nap. It’s a long day.” He tugged on Yeosang’s arm lightly. 

"I can just doze here, don't worry," Yeosang said, his arm outstretched between them as Seonghwa continued to try and get him to stand. 

Seonghwa pouted, letting go with a soft huff. The expression sat prettily on his face, framed by soft, snow-white hair that both softened and highlighted his striking features. Yeosang's lips twitched as he held back a smile, enamoured by the persistent omega standing before him. He briefly wondered what Seonghwa’s next attempt would be since the man was not the type to give up easily. Sure enough, Seonghwa narrowed his eyes at the hint of amusement Yeosang failed to hide.

“Oh?” Seonghwa tilted his head. “You think you’re grown?” 

Yeosang let out a startled laugh, covering his face with his free hand. “I am, though,” he countered playfully, despite himself. Around Seonghwa, it was dangerously easy to forget everything else. The older omega had never truly changed toward him, even as Yeosang had pulled away from him to appease the others. It made it so that every time Yeosang found himself alone with the omega, he easily slipped back into old habits. 

“Hm,” Seonghwa pursed his lips, bending at the waist until their faces were level. “You are?” 

Yeosang could see the flicker of mischief in Seonghwa’s eyes, but he answered without thinking. “Of course!” 

Seonghwa smirked. “Hongjoong-ah,” he called out without breaking eye contact, smile widening when Yeosang jumped to his feet. 

“Hyung!” he hissed, grabbing Seonghwa’s wrist in panic. The three alphas were now watching them, and none of them looked amused, especially Hongjoong.

“What?” Hongjoong asked, voice flat with irritation. Yeosang dropped his gaze instantly, letting go of Seonghwa’s hand and taking a step away from him.

“Hyung, please,” he whispered.

"Yeosang is refusing to nap," Seonghwa said anyway, reaching out and grabbing his hand again. 

They were in public, so Yeosang didn’t pull away again, allowing himself to gather courage from Seonghwa’s warm hold.

"No, I didn't! I said- I said I’d sleep here instead.” Yeosang blustered about, neck heating as his anxiety started to climb. The staff were looking at them too now, curious about the unusual exchange.

“That’s not real rest,” Hongjoong said, his voice gentling to the point of sweetness. “Go join the boys, please." 

Despite his tone, Yeosang knew there was no room for argument. Hongjoong was easy going most of the time, content to let chaos reign as long as things got done. However, there were times like now when his gaze would sharpen, and they all knew better than to push back then. 

Yeosang deflated in defeat. 

Seonghwa adjusted his grip with a victorious grin and began steering him toward the nap corner. Yeosang kept his eyes fixed on the floor, his face burning. He didn’t need to look up to know the staff were already giggling. He’d just made himself the subject of break time gossip for the rest of the day. 

He rounded the corner, ignoring the loud staff comments about Hongjoong’s “Captain prowess.” The nap area was a simple partitioned corner with padded floor mats, a couple of fleece throws, and silk pillowcases to protect styled hair. Mingi and Wooyoung were already fast asleep, curled close together in a way that made Yeosang’s chest ache.

Seonghwa gestured for Yeosang to lie down first. 

With a resigned sigh, Yeosang toed off his shoes and slid onto the mat beside the sleeping rapper. Seonghwa draped a fleece blanket over him before lying down beside him, their bodies close but not crowded.

Seonghwa drifted off almost instantly, his breath evening out within seconds. Yeosang, however, lay still beside him, listening to the distant murmur of conversation beyond the partition. Sleep refused to come. The muted hum of the room could not pierce the small bubble of quiet that surrounded him, making it difficult to stop thinking. 

Seonghwa was right. Yeosang was exhausted. But his mind refused to settle. There was too much hanging over him, unresolved and growing heavier by the day. His lawyer was still waiting on an answer as to whether or not Yeosang would see out the rest of his contract, or choose to break it and shoulder the hefty penalty. Just weeks ago, Yeosang had been ready to do so. But after the way the pack had responded, he’d grown hesitant. They hadn’t turned hostile, as he’d expected. Quite the opposite, actually. The fact that they’d even asked him to rejoin the pack had left him stunned. 

This past week, he had found himself making a pros and cons list. His older sister had once told him that if he ever needed a list, he already had his answer. She was probably right, but his heart rejected that idea, clinging to the hope that he would eventually move on and being around them would become easy again. He hated to imagine a life without the pack. Maybe now, without the pained bonds pushing him into a corner, he could find a way to just... exist with them again.

Then there was Jongho’s accusation. “It’s unfair to all of us,” he’d said. Was he hurting the pack by trying to protect himself? 

He sighed softly, careful not to wake Seonghwa, and turned onto his left side. As he shifted, his arm accidentally bumped into the rapper’s.

"Sang-ah?" Mingi's deep voice was thick with sleep, peering at him through squinted eyes.

"Shh, sorry. Go back to sleep." Yeosang whispered, patting Mingi's arm gently in an attempt to coax him down. Mingi grumbled incoherently then curled back around Wooyoung, tucking him to his chest. Yeosang’s heart swelled at the soft picture they made, the softness almost instantly tainted with jealousy. 

His mood soured. He hated the part of him that twisted with envy, hated how hard it was to just be happy for them without that ache of loneliness gnawing at his chest. He loved them both dearly, but seeing them this way reminded him of what he would never have.

The sounds beyond the partition swelled briefly and then dulled to a hush, catching Yeosang’s attention. A spike of anxiety pierced through him. The voices seemed to be intentionally lowered, making him wonder if they were talking about him. Did they find it odd that the beta of the group was napping with the omegas? No one outside of ATEEZ knew of the change, and Yeosang wasn't sure he ever wanted them to. There were some things scent blockers could cover, but he didn’t think it would mask his subgender when it changed. 

If it changed. 

At this point, Yeosang was seriously considering a life of celibacy just to avoid presenting fully as an omega. That way, no one would ever know. No headlines, no whispers, no questions. 

He sighed again and slowly sat up, careful not to disturb Seonghwa or Mingi. The blanket pooled in his lap as he blinked down at it. Sleep just wouldn’t come.

Light footsteps approached the corner. He recognized the gait immediately and frowned, confused. He hadn’t seen the alpha since their stage performance. San had a solo interview scheduled and hadn’t returned to the waiting room with them. 

Yeosang quickly lay back down and draped his arm over his eyes, peeking out just enough to see what the alpha wanted. San stood in the entryway, looking over them for a moment. Maybe he came to cuddle with Wooyoung or Seonghwa. He did that sometimes, especially after stressful days. 

Instead, San crouched at Yeosang’s feet and tapped his calf lightly.

Yeosang lowered his arm, peering up at the larger man. San gestured for him to come with a tilt of his finger. Unable to sleep anyway, Yeosang slipped out from under the blanket, carefully tucking it back around Seonghwa before shuffling over.

"Yes?" he whispered, half curious, half concerned. What did San want from him?

San stood and offered his hand. Yeosang hesitated before taking it with quivering fingers, letting himself be pulled to his feet. Had he done something? Were the alphas done talking amongst themselves and ready to address him? San casually laced their fingers together, dimples showing as he led them a few feet away to a quiet spot by the wall. Yeosang followed easily, relieved. He looked down at their joint hand, San’s thicker palm pressed against his own. For some reason, the contact didn’t feel strange.

Perhaps he’d grown used to San’s constant touch over the years. Outside of Wooyoung, San had always been the most touchy member. Even as the space had grown between them in their professional lives, San had easily kept up the touchy image for their fans. He would engulf him in hugs, press chaste kisses to his face, or hold his hand whenever cameras were around.

Yeosang peeked over his shoulder, wondering if they were filming a behind-the-scenes clip. No one was watching. San sat down, back resting against the wall. Yeosang moved to sit on his other side, his body stuttering when San caught his wrist and patted his lap. 

"Huh?" Yeosang looked around in confusion, wondering exactly what he had missed. Did San want him to sit on his lap? Despite his first glance coming up empty, Yeosang looked around again. There must be a hidden camera somewhere. But for what kind of content? 

"Lie down," San murmured. 

"On your lap?" Yeosang whispered incredulously. 

San’s dimples deepened, but Yeosang caught the dramatic eye roll just before his eyes curved into warm crescents. The alpha tugged on his arm again, more insistent this time. Reluctantly, Yeosang gave in. He lowered himself carefully, body stiff with hesitation, as he settled his head onto the curve of San’s thighs. He lay there awkwardly, unsure of what to do with the rest of himself.

San sighed and rearranged his body until he lay more comfortably. 

"There, that’s better," San murmured, poking Yeosang’s forehead.

The warmth of San’s body seeped through the fabric, making Yeosang’s face flush. He wanted to hide his face, but there was nowhere to turn that wasn’t San’s body. This was all too intimate. Why was San doing this?

"What are we doing?" Yeosang asked, trying to keep his voice casual.

"You're not sleeping alone." San traced the furrow of his brow, reminding Yeosang to relax his features. His face scrunched further at the ticklish caress. 

Words of protest sat in his mouth. He wanted to insist that he didn’t need help sleeping, that he was fine on his own. But the words just wouldn’t come out. Even as memory warned him to be wary, San’s hand was warm and gentle as it threaded through his hair in slow, unhurried passes. Besides, they were filming. Yeosang could allow himself this moment.

Yeosang held perfectly still, not wanting to give the alpha any reason to stop. He was quietly thankful that his hairstyle for the day had been left mostly natural. It let San’s fingers glide through the strands without resistance. Only when San leaned his head back against the wall with a soft sigh did Yeosang allow himself to look up. The alpha’s gaze was fixed on the ceiling, jaw tight.

Yeosang frowned. San being quiet wasn’t unusual. San being quiet with a distant, empty look in his eyes was. Something was clearly on his mind. He wondered what the Alpha was thinking about so carefully. Did it have to do with why he was sitting here in the first place? Or was he just uncomfortable pulling off this extended act for the hidden camera? 

"Sang-ah," San said finally, hand still combing through Yeosang’s hair gently. Yeosang hummed in response, looking at him closely as he waited for San to continue. San looked down at him thoughtfully, then smiled and shook his head.

"Never mind. Close your eyes."

Yeosang’s eyes fluttered shut obediently but opened seconds later. Something didn’t feel right. San was no longer looking at him, which only made Yeosang study him harder. He’d wanted to say something. Yeosang’s nerves prickled with unease. Something was going on, but no one was willing to tell him

"Yeosang," San scolded gently, catching him. "I said, close your eyes, you only have thirty minutes left to nap," San flicked his forehead. 

It didn’t hurt, but Yeosang still flinched, covering the spot with a pout. “Sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing the imaginary sting. He hadn’t meant to disobey. He’d just been trying to figure out what San had been mulling over so seriously. 

San chuckled, and Yeosang looked up curiously. "What?" 

"Nothing," San said, brushing his hand away. "You’re just too cute," he said, leaning down to press a kiss to the spot he’d hit.

Yeosang blinked up at him, trying to hold back his reaction. He forcefully tamped down the giddy feeling in his stomach, trying not to get excited. San liked cute things. He would kiss a lizard if he found it cute. It didn’t mean anything. Yeosang was not special.  

"Close your eyes," San coaxed again, squeezing his cheek with the same affection one might show a child.

Too embarrassed to meet his eyes, Yeosang did as he was told.

Chapter Text

Seonghwa stared up at the ceiling tiles of the backstage waiting room, the sterile white squares blurring at the edges as his eyes refused to focus. The low murmur of voices filtered in from beyond the partition wall, distant and indistinct. He’d once found comfort in the distorted noise, but now it only served to emphasise the growing quiet inside him.

His nap had been short-lived, disrupted by a restless ache he couldn’t shake. Sleep had always come easy to him. He used to joke that he could do it anywhere, anytime. But lately, he found he could only manage short, restless naps that left him more hollow than rested. Whether it was the steady churn of thoughts under the surface or the hollow ache left behind by Yeosang’s broken bond, Seonghwa couldn’t say. All he knew was that something in him felt unmoored, adrift in a quiet grief he couldn’t control. And in that silence, he found himself reaching for his pack more than ever, desperate for something solid to hold onto. On the worst nights, he’d climb into Mingi’s bed without a word, letting the younger’s presence anchor him. Other times, he’d pull San into his own sheets, needing the warmth more than he cared to admit.

He was slowly unravelling, and the guilt of it all was eating him alive.

Seonghwa sighed quietly and rolled onto his side, hand moving instinctively toward the empty space beside him. He blinked slowly, palm resting against the cool sheet, and let the disappointment settle.

A quiet frown tugged at the corners of his mouth as he sat up. He hadn’t even heard him leave. Yeosang needed the sleep more than any of them. Last night had been rough on him, and he had even left the dorm in the early morning without eating. The lunchbox Yunho had packed still sat full in their company van, further highlighting the younger’s distress.

Movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. He turned, drawn instinctively toward it. San sat on the floor with his back against the far wall, legs stretched out, and Yeosang curled in his lap. The sight rooted Seonghwa in place. He didn’t speak, didn’t breathe for a moment, just stared. San glanced up and met his gaze, offering a small smile. He lifted a hand and patted the empty space beside him without saying a word.

Seonghwa crossed the room quietly, careful not to disturb the sleeping omegas. Mingi had curled himself around Wooyoung, their legs tangled in familiar comfort. He passed them and eased down beside San, shoulder bumping him as he lowered himself into the space. Without a word, he let his head rest against San’s shoulder, his eyes drifting down to Yeosang once more.

He looked peaceful.

All the usual tension was gone, and it was only in its absence that Seonghwa realised it had existed. His mouth hung open slightly, lips parted just enough to draw in soft breaths. His hair was slightly dishevelled, clearly the result of San’s wandering fingers. His hair was a soft, tousled mess, no doubt from San’s fingers combing through it again and again.

It was heartbreakingly precious, and he said just as much in a small murmur. San hummed in response, resting his head against his affectionately. 

“Do you think he’s still upset?” Seonghwa asked, barely loud enough to be heard. 

San shrugged lightly, the movement subtle so he wouldn’t disturb the boy in his lap. Seonghwa felt the gesture more than he saw it. “I was too scared to ask,” he admitted quietly.

Seonghwa’s heart clenched, and he turned to nuzzle San’s neck. The rough texture of his nude scent patch brushed against his skin, the gesture feeling empty as San’s warm scent didn’t flood the air. San turned and met him with a gentle kiss instead. Seonghwa pulled back quickly, eyes darting around worriedly, even though he knew the staff would not come to this corner. San grinned, the expression painfully boyish, and Seonghwa couldn’t be annoyed a moment longer. He settled back into his side, gaze returning to Yeosang’s sleeping form. 

"The stylists are going to hate you," he said quietly, taking the opportunity to scratch Yeosang’s scalp lightly. The omega preened in his slip, shifting to press closer to him, palm. 

"I'll live." Seonghwa could hear the smile in San’s voice and feel the satisfaction thrumming through the younger’s bond. He smiled in response, relieved that the alpha was feeling calmer. 

San had worried him last night. While everyone else had yelled and argued, San had gone quiet, closing off his bonds and retreating inwards. In the middle of all that chaos, his silence had screamed the loudest. The memory stirred something uneasy in Seonghwa’s chest. He reached out instinctively, checking the bonds again. Mingi and Wooyoung were faint hums of tranquility as they slept, but the other alphas had completely blocked everyone out. 

He sighed softly, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as the tension of last night crept back in.

******

"What happened?" 

Seonghwa caught Jongho by the wrist as the younger tried to follow Yeosang out of the dorm. He’d only been heading to the kitchen for a glass of water - sleep wouldn’t come, not until Hongjoong was home and wrapped around him - but the slam of the front door and the sharp scent of anxiety had stopped him cold. Jongho stopped, glancing between him and the door as he was torn between the two.

"Give me a second, let me just-," Jongho tried to pull away, but Seonghwa grabbed the front of his shirt before he could get far.

Taking into consideration that Yeosang had just run out reeking of anxiety, Seonghwa wasn’t ready to let the likely cause go chasing after him. It was even more concerning that Jongho’s barriers were up, blocking Seonghwa from accurately gauging whether the young alpha was in the right state to calm anyone else down. 

"No, let him go," Seonghwa said firmly. "You're too wound up."

Jongho’s shoulders rose and fell with a sharp breath. He didn’t argue, but his eyes lingered on the door like he could will it to reopen. Seonghwa watched him closely with a small frown. This kind of visible distress was rare for Jongho, their unshakable and methodical maknae. He had always been the quiet strength of the group, and seeing him like this only made Seonghwa’s concern increase. Something serious had happened.

"You go after him then, hyung," Jongho urged, pushing lightly at Seonghwa’s chest. "I think he’s about to have a panic attack."

Seonghwa hesitated, feet rooted to the floor as his heart tugged him toward the door. Every instinct screamed at him to go, to make sure Yeosang was okay, to not let him face whatever he was feeling alone.

He braced himself, gently catching Jongho’s wrists before he could push him again.

"I want to," Seonghwa admitted, voice low. "But I don’t think I should. He looked like he really needed space." 

Jongho’s hands dropped limply to his sides.

"Jongho-ya," Seonghwa said gently, watching as the younger visibly wilted under his gaze.

"I think I fucked up," Jongho sighed, scrubbing at his face. "I didn’t mean to-," he trailed off, eyes closed tightly, head tilted back as if searching the ceiling for answers.

"Hey," Seonghwa caught his face in both hands, forcing him to look at him. "It’s fine, everything is going to be fine. Just tell me what happened." 

Seonghwa put on an air of confidence he didn’t feel. The younger was completely distressed, worrying Seonghwa as to what exactly had gone wrong. 

"I-," Jongho hesitated, looking down at the ground shamefully. His fingers toyed with the fabric of Seonghwa’s shirt nervously.

"You what?" Seonghwa pressed.

"I asked to scent him," Jongho mumbled. 

Seonghwa tilted his head in confusion. Was that the reason Yeosang had run out like the hounds of hell were on his heels? Impossible. He was missing something. 

Jongho sighed again and gently pulled Seonghwa’s hands away. “I asked to scent him, and he said no,” he clarified, as he sank onto the couch like his legs could no longer hold him.

Yeosang’s scent lingered in the air. It had been overwhelmingly strong due to the intensity of his emotions. The tangy aroma of cherries still lingered in the air. Now, though, Seonghwa noticed the thread of roasted coffee intertwined with it. He had initially assumed that he had simply been smelling Jongho, but the scent profile was completely different from the one Jongho was currently emitting. 

Seonghwa turned to him in horror. There was no way.

Jongho noticed the shift in his expression and shot to his feet, alarmed. "No! It’s not- I didn’t force him, I swear. I would never. You know that!" 

Relief hit Seonghwa so hard, it almost hurt. He swallowed thickly. "You scared me!" he slapped Jongho’s shoulder harshly. 

“Sorry,” Jongho flinched and rubbed the spot. rubbing the spot with a wince. “I… I wasn’t focusing and did that thing I always do." 

He sighed and flopped back down on the couch, tension bleeding out of his frame. Seonghwa sat beside him, patting his thigh comfortingly. “Thing you do?” he echoed, confused.

Jongho hesitated, then gently took Seonghwa’s hand and lifted it to his neck, pressing it against the warm, pulsing point beneath his scent gland. Seonghwa’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Jongho!” he gasped, pulling his hand back slightly as Jongho’s burning coffee scent intensified.

“I know,” Jongho muttered, dragging Seonghwa’s hand up to cover his face. “I know.”

Seonghwa’s lips pressed into a frown as he looked at his baby alpha. Every instinct screamed at him to pull Jongho close, to wrap him up and protect him from the weight of his own guilt, but he knew that would not help. 

“Tell me everything,” Seonghwa said gently, but firmly. 

Jongho exhaled shakily, then began to speak. He recounted the conversation with Yeosang. The way it had started, soft and well-intentioned, but quickly unraveled into something too honest. He told Seonghwa how he’d tried to reach Yeosang with logic, with frustration, with desperate truth. How Yeosang had frozen under the weight of it. How he'd looked at Jongho like he didn’t recognize him at all.

By the time he finished, Seonghwa was just staring, completely dumbfounded. 

Jongho looked at him warily, though there was a hint of defiance in his gaze. “I know how it sounds,” he said cautiously, voice low. “But I wasn’t wrong.”

“What on earth possessed you to say that to him?” Seonghwa finally managed, voice tight with disbelief.

Seonghwa knew Yeosang was already hanging by a thread, impossibly fragile and trying so hard to hold himself together. Jongho’s accusation had practically pinned the blame for this rift between them squarely on Yeosang’s shoulders. Seonghwa could practically hear the echo of those words in Yeosang’s head, each one twisting the knife of self-doubt deeper. It wasn’t fair. Especially when Seonghwa carried the most fault. 

He had been negligent. He’d allowed Yeosang to pull away from him without question, chalking it up to his secondary gender’s behaviour. He made grand assumptions based on scent and instinct, rather than paying attention to the person behind them. He’d failed to take into consideration Yeosang’s people-pleasing temperament. 

"What? I'm not exactly wrong," Jongho protested, the defiance moving to the forefront. "He's always doing this!"

"Jongho, you're-" Seonghwa cut himself off with a frustrated growl. This wasn’t a conversation only the two of them should be having. 

"What are you doing?" Jongho asked, the wariness coming back.

“Calling the others,” Seonghwa said, already typing out an SOS in the pack group chat.  It was late, but they needed to hold an emergency meeting. “We need to do damage control before tomorrow.”

Jongho gaped at him. “You’re serious?”

Seonghwa didn’t answer. He just started pacing, slow, controlled strides that belied the turmoil storming behind his calm façade. He wondered if Yeosang had made it back to his dorm. Was he okay? Seonghwa rubbed the back of his neck, breath shallow as guilt twisted deep in his chest.

He’d spent so long mistaking Yeosang’s silence for strength. All the warning signs had been there if he’d just looked closer. He saw it now, in the familiar forced smiles, in his quiet absences. He'd unknowingly let the boy shrink into himself rather than risk the discomfort of pushing past his walls.

Wooyoung emerged first, boxers slung low on his hips and a towel tossed over his damp hair. He paused mid-rub when he saw them.

“What happened?” he asked casually, plopping down beside Jongho. “Why do you smell so grumpy?”

"I-."

"It’s a long story,” Seonghwa cut in sharply, shooting Jongho a warning look. “Let’s wait for everyone to get here." 

Jongho scoffed but didn’t argue. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. "Fine."

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow and glanced between them, clearly catching the tension now. Seonghwa avoided his gaze, too focused on what was coming. He needed to brainstorm the best way to tell the pack without it turning into a fight. They were usually a reasonable bunch, adept at remaining level-headed. However, they were all unpredictable when it came to Yeosang. 

He worried that the pack would turn on Jongho, and he, in turn, would feel targeted and lash out against them. He was most concerned about Wooyoung’s reaction since he was extremely protective when it came to Yeosang. 

Seonghwa continued to pace the room, waiting for the others to show. His phone buzzed in his hand. A message lit up the lock screen:

‘ Be there in 10,’ Hongjoong’s message read.

He exhaled shakily and sat again, folding his hands tightly in his lap. Ten more minutes. He just had to hold the pack together for ten more minutes. All he had to do was make sure Jongho didn’t say anything until Hongjoong arrived. He wasn’t ready to handle the chaos alone. 

Yunho arrived next. He silently took in the three seated men before joining them. Seonghwa smiled weakly, appreciative of the tall alpha’s intuition. He met his gaze and gave him a small, tired nod. Yunho smiled comfortingly. Two minutes later, the front door beeped again. San and Mingi entered together, Mingi blinking sleep from his eyes. They didn’t speak either. One look at the room told them everything they needed to know. Mingi made a beeline for Yunho, draping his long body over the alpha as he poured himself into his lap. 

The six of them sat in tense silence, waiting patiently for Hongjoong’s arrival.

When the door beeped five minutes later, everyone straightened in their seats, Seonghwa included. Jongho visibly tensed, as if the weight of what was coming finally landed on his shoulders in full.

"What happened?" Hongjoong called from the foyer as he kicked off his shoes and entered the dorm. His words triggered a reaction from the previously silent group.

“Yeah, what happened?” San echoed, pushing up from his seat. His eyes were sharp despite the fatigue clinging to his features. “I had to wake Mingi up for this.”

"Is it because of Yeosangie?” Yunho asked, concern edging into his voice. “He smelled really upset when he came home.” 

At that, Jongho flinched. The reaction was small, but noticeable enough that Yunho’s gaze flicked to him. Seonghwa, already seated beside the younger Alpha, reached over to pat his thigh gently in reassurance before rising and approaching Hongjoong.

"I’m just worried about Yeosang," Seonghwa admitted, voice low but steady. He turned to face the rest of the group. "He’s already been going through a lot and tonight…. might have pushed him a bit further than we intended." 

"What did you do?" Yunho turned to Jongho with a disapproving frown. 

Seonghwa bit his lip. The instant defensiveness in Yunho’s tone made him nervous, but Jongho glanced at him, silently asking for permission. Seonghwa gave a small nod, encouraging him to speak.

Jongho relayed what he had told Seonghwa earlier, voice stiff but honest. When he got to the part about telling Yeosang it was “unfair to them,” the room erupted into noise.

"Why the fuck would you talk for us?" San snapped, backing away from the couch. 

"You didn't!" Mingi gasped, sleepy eyes doubling in size.

"Are you serious?" Yunho’s voice was incredulous, eyebrows lifting in disbelief.

"Jongho…," Hongjoong sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You know damn well it was unfair of you to say that to him ," Wooyoung snapped, his voice cutting sharper than anyone else’s. His glare was cold, hard, and it must have been the reason Jongho chose to answer him first. 

"I didn’t lie!" Jongho stood suddenly, arms raised defensively. "I simply said he could just say no next time and that it's hard to play this guessing game since he never wants to say things explicitly," Jongho's voice rose in pitch, panic slipping in as he watched the stunned, disbelieving expressions on everyone’s faces. His defence only served to further aggravate the pack. 

"Jongho, you know he- oh my fucking God," Mingi groaned, standing up and pressing his hands into his hair. 

As the tension escalated, San silently crossed the room and slid behind Seonghwa, wrapping his arms around the older’s waist and burying his face in Seonghwa’s neck. Seonghwa glanced at him briefly, but the alpha said nothing.

Seonghwa reached up, gently covering San’s arms with his own and guiding them tighter around his body.

Seonghwa’s heart squeezed, and he gently patted the hands around his waist consolingly.

"Why would you put that all on him?" Yunho asked, any trace of softness wiped off his expression. What remained was steely and cold, and Seonghwa winced. Yunho rarely showed this side, but when he did, it was always unnerving. Jongho visibly recoiled.

He wanted to step in for the younger, but Hongjoong grabbed his arm, shaking his head. Seonghwa shuffled nervously, waiting to see what the Alpha planned on doing. San’s cheek pressed against his, silently grounding him. Seonghwa knew that San had initially approached him to avoid the yelling and upset near Jongho. Despite his own discomfort, he was still trying to help Seonghwa stay calm. 

"I wasn’t wrong !” Jongho bit out. “I have no idea what he's thinking and I don't have the damned bond to check!" 

"Please,” Wooyoung scoffed, glaring angrily at Jongho. “Like you ever checked." 

Seonghwa’s heart dropped. His eyes widened as he watched Jongho’s face darken. Something flickered behind his expression, and Seonghwa stepped forward quickly, trying to intervene before things became nasty.

“Guys, thi-” he tried, but his words were swallowed by Jongho’s low, and dangerous growl.

“Oh, that’s fucking rich coming from you ,” Jongho snapped, spinning toward the omega. “My bond with Yeosang was already malnourished. Yours wasn’t. If anyone could’ve checked in on him properly, it was you. Not me.”

Wooyoung’s bond twisted violently, like something tearing at the seams. The pain bled out of him in waves, and it showed on his face. Clarity hit Jongho, and his expression cracked, horror flashing in his eyes as he reached out. “Wooyoung, I-”

The omega cut him off with a single raised hand.

“Either way,” Wooyoung snapped, voice trembling, “ I wasn’t the one who opened their big ass mouth and told him he was wrong for keeping his shut, was I?” he retaliated before Jongho could apologise, angry tears wetting his cheeks. 

"Enough," Hongjoong bellowed, the volume startling everyone. Everyone stilled.

 Seonghwa stared at him in shock. Hongjoong never raised his voice, no matter how difficult the pack was. His tone alone sent a ripple of unease through the group.

"Wooyoung,” Hongjoong said firmly, stepping forward, “you’re doing exactly what Jongho did to Yeosangie. He might have misspoken, but you’re also out of line for acting like he was the only one who failed Yeosang when we were bonded." 

Wooyoung looked away, shame creeping into his expression, but Hongjoong didn’t pause.

"And Jongho," Hongjoong switched targets before Wooyoung could respond. "The way you responded was just as wrong. I know you’re not in the best place tonight. But that’s exactly when you need to control yourself. You hurt two people you love with your words today," His tone softened at the end, but his gaze remained steady, pointed.

Seonghwa watched the tension visibly drain from Jongho. His shoulders slumped, the fight leaving him all at once, replaced by regret.

"Woo-," he said softly, turning toward the omega. Wooyoung wiped at his face roughly, still refusing to look at him. “Hyung,” Jongho tried again, quieter. This time, Wooyoung peeked at him. "I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that."

Wooyoung sniffled and wiped his cheeks again. “Whatever,” he muttered, dropping his gaze. “You weren’t wrong.”

“Still,” Jongho replied, voice low, “I said it to hurt you. That was cruel of me.”

There was a beat of silence before Wooyoung’s lips wobbled. “I started it,” he admitted, pouting as he wiped his cheeks again. “I’m sorry too.”

Jongho nodded in acceptance, and Wooyoung didn’t wait another second. He launched himself into Jongho’s arms, clinging to him as the tears started again in earnest.

"I didn’t mean it,” he sobbed, muffled into Jongho’s neck. “I just… I just feel so bad for Yeosangie." 

Jongho held him close, arms wrapping tightly around the omega’s waist. Wooyoung nuzzled in deeper, scenting him in search of comfort, the room finally quieting around them. 

Seonghwa leaned heavily against San as relief flooded him. No matter how rare an occurrence, he hated to see his lovers fight amongst themselves. San’s thumb caressed his waist lightly, and Seonghwa caught it, interlocking his fingers with the alpha.

Mingi awkwardly patted Wooyoung’s back as he tried to comfort the sobbing omega. "He was just trying to get Yeosang to understand that we would be fine no matter how he chooses to express himself." 

"Yes, but he failed to take into consideration that-," San cut himself off, exhaling sharply as he dropped his head onto Seonghwa’s shoulder. Seonghwa waited with the others as San tried to find a nicer way to phrase what he had almost said. 

When San finally lifted his head, his voice was calmer, more measured. “It’s a lot of pressure to put on Yeosang,” he said, glancing around the room. “I thought we all agreed to take it slow. To rebuild his trust first.”

Seonghwa nodded in agreement. They had. 

After Yeosang had returned, they had sat down to make a plan. They had all known it couldn’t go back to the way it was. Yeosang’s trust wasn’t something they could demand but something to be earned. 

But deciding how to move forward hadn’t come easily. The conversations had been long and tense, filled with questions none of them could answer with certainty. There had been countless debates about what Yeosang had meant when he’d said he didn’t fit in the pack. San, Hongjoong, and Wooyoung were convinced that it was because Yeosang felt something deeper, possibly romantic, for them since he’d cited them all being ‘together.’  Mingi and Yunho, on the other hand, worried he was just uncomfortable with their dynamic altogether and that their polycule had made him feel alienated. Jongho had been somewhere in the middle, agreeing and disagreeing with both groups at different times. 

Seonghwa had tried not to make assumptions. He’d made plenty over the past few years, and it seems he had been wrong every time. He believed it was better to be clear with Yeosang when the time came, to spell things out and allow him to make an informed decision. But most of the others weren’t there yet, and so, they’d agreed to start small. They would try to slowly mend their relationship with Yeosang and show him that they cared for him no matter what.

  “Well,” Hongjoong sighed, rubbing a hand down his face, “I think we can all agree that Jongho went about it terribly.”

Jongho flinched, but didn’t speak. Mingi’s lips jutted slightly, and he went from comforting Wooyoung to comforting Jongho.

“Whether you meant to or not,” Hongjoong continued, “what you said had a pretty big impact. And I want to remind you, Jongho-ya, we don’t have Yeosang’s trust.”

Jongho’s shoulders drooped under the weight of the words. The tension in his frame unraveled slowly, replaced by something smaller, sadder.

“Where you think your relationship with him is? He's not there. He's still overthinking everything. That's why we agreed to give him space and take it slow. You went against that agreement," Hongjoong’s voice was still firm, but it was laced with something softer.

He looked directly at him, but Jongho’s eyes stayed glued to the floor. Seonghwa pumped out calming pheromones, hoping to soothe the young alpha and gentle their leader. The mistake had been made, and there was no turning back the clock. They would simply have to do better from now on.

"I know we’re all feeling eager, but all the conversations in the world won’t matter if he doesn’t feel safe with us,” Seonghwa added. He looked around at the rest of the pack, gaze steady. “Until we show him that we care about him no matter what, we'll still see no real progress." Seonghwa reminded them sternly. 

If they fail at this, they may as well give up.

******

Although the conflict from the night before had technically been resolved, a lingering tension still clung to the group. The alphas had been quietly discussing how Jongho might apologise to Yeosang, trying to find the right approach that wouldn’t overwhelm him further. No one wanted to make another mistake.

Seonghwa knew it was getting harder for the others to keep giving Yeosang his space. They missed him. None of them were used to this kind of distance. Yeosang’s pack departure and hiatus had interrupted their routine and Jongho’s outburst had been a symptom of that strain. A misstep born from impatience and helplessness. Before all this, it was unthinkable for even a few days to pass without spending time together. Whether it was something as routine as dance practice or a shared moment during a radio schedule, they were always orbiting one another. This small moment, sitting quietly in a tucked-away corner with San and Yeosang, was probably the most intimate moment Seonghwa had shared with the younger omega since the bond had snapped. Seonghwa sat close enough to feel San’s warmth at his side, close enough to watch the soft rise and fall of Yeosang’s chest.

It was quiet. Uncomplicated.

And it filled Seonghwa with something he hadn’t dared to feel in a long time: hope. No matter what happened, whatever came next, Seonghwa believed they get through it together.

They were one, after all. 

Chapter Text

"Isn’t that right, Yeosang-ssi?" Mingi asked, leaning forward slightly to catch his eye past San’s shoulder.

Startled, Yeosang blinked back into focus and nodded with a polite smile, silently praying that he hadn’t just walked into a trap. It wouldn’t be the first time his members had played this trick and exposed him for zoning out during a conversation. But no one laughed, and Mingi leaned back in his seat, seemingly satisfied. Yeosang exhaled quietly, hiding the small tremor in his fingers as he folded his hands in his lap. He knew he should be paying more attention, especially today, but it was hard to stay grounded when his nerves had been scraped raw by the constant presence of cameras and the thin veneer of unity they were expected to uphold. Yeosang could only hope he hadn’t just signed himself up for something absurd on day two of filming.

Day one had been hard enough. The concept of their variety show was a "relaxing group vacation," but Yeosang felt anything but relaxed. Cameras had been rolling since dawn, catching every small moment. It had been over fourteen hours without a true break, and the idea of both falling asleep and waking up with a camera in his face made his stomach twist. 

Yeosang shifted in his seat, crossing his legs to keep from fidgeting too much as the weight of the day bore down on him. They were seated in a makeshift interview corner with filming lights aimed at them and cameras positioned strategically to catch their reactions. This was his third sit-down interview of the day. The staff insisted on capturing fresh impressions, but Yeosang’s patience thinned with every scripted question. He knew he was doing worse, his mask not fitting like it used to. Perhaps his bonds had provided him with more strength than he’d realized because pretending to be fine had never felt this exhausting. 

The others were tired, too; he could see it in their postures, but they still laughed and played along. His eyes drifted past the lights and toward the windows, searching for something outside that might quiet his mind. His own reflection stared back at him, the dark sky refusing to allow him to slip away again. He steeled his spine and turned back to the staff. If his group could do it, so could he. 

“Yeosang-ah,” Mingi called out quietly when the director finally signaled the end of the interview session. Yeosang turned, just barely, but before he could respond, one of the production staff waved them over. “Let’s move to the living room!”

There was barely time to stretch before they were herded off again, lights and cameras following their every step. Once they had all settled onto the couches and floor cushions, the head writer clapped her hands. “Before you head off to sleep, we’ve got one more game,” she declared, her cheerful tone clashing with the group’s collective groan.

"Is it for who makes breakfast tomorrow?" Wooyoung chirped, hand raised high above his head. Yeosang didn’t understand how the omega was able to keep his energy up. The closest to rest they had gotten was the short doze in the car rides between filming locations. Every decision today had been a mini-game, whether it was what they did, where they went, or how they got there. The pattern was clear, and Yeosang didn’t need to be a genius to know what was coming.

"You might have noticed that all the rooms here are not the same," the head writer said with a knowing smile, confirming his suspicions.

They had toured the vacation house when they arrived, and the layout was still fresh in Yeosang’s mind: four bedrooms and a few mats tucked away for the unlucky ones. One room had a spacious king-sized bed, while the second had a cozy double. The third had two singles. The fourth had three-floor mattresses.

“I wanna sleep with Yunho!” Wooyoung announced, raising his hand again with the same enthusiasm. 

Yeosang’s awe at the omega’s energy evaporated as understanding settled in. When Yeosang reached out to catch Wooyoung’s raised arm and pulled it down, he could feel the faint tremble in the omega’s fingers as their hands briefly joined. He was just as exhausted as Yeosang, only he was doing much better at hiding it. 

“Let her finish,” Yeosang said lightly, a teasing lilt in his tone. The members and staff laughed, and Wooyoung huffed, dutifully dropping his hand while muttering exaggerated complaints under his breath.

As the writer launched into the explanation of the next game and its stakes, Yeosang silently hoped for a room of his own. Whatever the challenge was, he just needed to win. First or second, he didn’t care which. 

"Last place is sleeping there," she finished, gesturing to the loveseat where Jongho and Mingi were currently squished together.

Or last. He just needed space to be entirely alone. He could already feel the cold, constricting pressure of anxiety settling over his chest. It had been building for the past few hours, but he held on, nails digging into his thighs to keep himself grounded. 

The revelation resulted in an onslaught of loud complaints from the pack, Yeosang voicing his agreement to their points. However, when the dust had settled, the rules still remained. 

The game kicked off with full intensity, and everyone was suddenly competitive now that sleep was involved. To Yeosang’s surprise, Seonghwa emerged victorious, followed by Jongho. With the two private rooms claimed, Yeosang stopped trying.

The game continued, and the rest of the spots filled quickly. Mingi and Wooyoung on the single beds, and Hongjoong, San, and Yunho on the floor mattresses. That left Yeosang with the cramped loveseat. 

Yeosang made a show of being disappointed by the sleeping arrangement, pouting softly for the cameras and leaning into Mingi when the rapper offered a consoling hug. Though he had wanted better, Yeosang was still relieved he would still have his own space. After the day he’d had, he knew he needed it.

The production team lingered long past their last game, filming even as the members brushed their teeth and changed into sleepwear. Yeosang was on the verge of collapse, nerves stretched thin. His omega was incredibly tense and overstimulated, desperate for a moment of stillness and safety. As the night came to an end, Yeosang curled beneath the fluffy blanket strewn across the loveseat. 

From down the hall, he could still hear muffled laughter as the rest of the pack prepared for bed. It filled him with a complicated mixture of emotions: warmth, longing, and a quiet bitterness he couldn’t shake. He loved the sound of them together but hated how far away it felt. How far away he felt.

He waited, listening. He needed them to settle, to finally give the cameras a reason to stop recording. And eventually, they did. One by one, the voices faded. Only when the last door clicked shut and the final beam of hallway light disappeared did Yeosang close his eyes. The quiet dark wrapped around him like a second skin, and he listened carefully to the few remaining staff. After what felt like an eternity of faking sleep, the staff turned their equipment off and retreated silently. 

For the first time that day, no one was watching.

He stayed still for a moment longer. And then, quietly, he sat up, the blanket slipping off his shoulders. He pressed his back to the couch and pulled his knees to his chest. 

Yeosang relaxed slowly, prepared for the physical reaction of his repressed emotions. It always hit like this, slowly but steadily creeping up once he allowed himself to relax. In the beginning, drifting off to sleep would trigger his attacks. Those were worse because, in his sleepiness, the feeling of looming death was overwhelming. He’d learned since then to let the attack come before he fell asleep. 

His heart thudded irregularly, stuttering as if unsure how to beat properly. He reached out instinctively, searching for Seonghwa’s bond, and was met with nothing. The ache of that absence pulsed through him, the isolation almost drowning him. 

Yeosang choked on an inhale. Maybe it was time to rejoin his parents' pack. It would be mortifying to go crawling back at his age, especially when he had fought so hard to be allowed to join his former pack. But the truth was hard to ignore: he needed the connection. He had never been this alone before. Not like this. And he wasn’t sure how much longer he could survive it.

"Five," he murmured, looking around the dark living room. The only light came from the vent hood in the kitchen, diffusing the space with barely visible shadows.

His watch, the sofa, the coffee table, the lamp, and the vase.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to try and focus. He was so damn tired of constantly teetering on the edge of a panic attack. He hated that he was constantly on a hair trigger, one uncomfortable moment away from a breakdown. The tension in his shoulders traveled down to his shoulder blades, causing his back to cramp. 

Yeosang could hear the sound of movement further in the house as the members quietly moved between the rooms. He was familiar with the routine. After a schedule like this, the alphas would rally to help the omegas regulate, no matter how tired they were. Yeosang squeezed his eyes, trying to drown out the noises as the desperate longing threatened to overwhelm him. 

"Four," he exhaled. 

His satin pyjamas pants, the soft blanket, the rough fabric of the loveseat, his hair.

He forced himself to keep going, grounding himself piece by piece. He had read about this grounding technique long ago, but he hadn't had many opportunities to use it. Normally, his attacks were far more overwhelming, and he struggled to think clearly. Today though, he was lucid enough to remember the steps. 

"Three," he inhaled.

His own breaths, the ticking clock, quiet footsteps down the hall.

His gaze lifted at that last sound. A slender figure materialised from the darkness, emerging from the corridor. He swallowed harshly, choking back the emotions his body was trying to dispel. His scent had already soured, but he didn’t care. As long as they didn’t notice, he could manage. 

‘Two,’ he thought, resting his cheek on his knee, gaze trailing the barefoot figure as he bypassed him and headed to the kitchen. 

The faint lavender detergent on his blanket, Hongjoong’s woody scent.

Yeosang’s anxiety spiked before he could stop it. All the effort he’d poured into calming down scattered like leaves in the wind. He watched warily as the man moved around the kitchen, afraid he’d notice how close to the precipice Yeosang was standing. It was harder to focus now, the grounding technique slipping through his fingers. But still, he tried.

“One,” he whispered.

The dry, metallic taste sitting heavily on his tongue.

Hongjoong made his way back with a glass of warm milk in hand, the faint scent of honey drifting ahead of him. But instead of disappearing down the hall like Yeosang expected, he stopped beside the couch.

"Hey, you up?" he asked gently, the question more of a courtesy than anything else.

Yeosang looked up from where he sat. The pack Alpha offered a small smile and set the glass carefully on the coffee table. He eased down beside him, inadvertently pinning the edge of Yeosang’s blanket beneath him. 

"How’re you feeling?" 

Yeosang glanced at the trapped material, wishing he could tug it back up around his shoulders. Even in the darkness, he felt too exposed. 

He answered carefully, "Fine. What’s up?" 

"Nothing. Just checking in," Hongjoong shifted slightly to face him more fully, one arm draping loosely along the back of the couch. 

Yeosang’s eyebrows furrowed momentarily before understanding dawned on him. The Alphas had rallied, and one of them had come to find him. He looked away, heat prickling at the corners of his eyes, relief and bitterness twisting together like a knot. He clung to the latter, allowing it to push back his tears. 

Everything about him was paradoxical. Just moments ago, he had been yearning for exactly this, but now that Hongjoong sat before him, that longing curdled into resentment.

It all felt so performative.

Yeosang had gotten through so many days like this alone: pushed to the side because everyone expected him to be self-sufficient. And over time, he’d adapted. No one noticed when he fell apart quietly because he made sure they didn’t have to. He’d quietly filled those shoes and built himself into the person they expected. The responsible, independent beta who didn’t need anything.

He’d spent years developing his coping mechanisms, despite their lack of longevity. Eventually, something would stop working, and the knot in his chest would just grow tighter. And as he hid every single time, he had longed for anyone to notice. But now that they had, now that he had a label to validate his feelings, it only made him feel worse. 

Because he alone hadn’t been worthy of being seen. 

Fear gripped at him, whispering dark promises of hatred and resentment. None of it was real, and if he allowed himself to lean on them, he would end up a useless burden.

"I’m good,” Yeosang said politely. “I know how to handle myself." 

Hongjoong lowered his head. For a moment, he said nothing. He just sat there, breathing slowly. When he looked up again, his smile was faint and a little sad. Yeosang frowned, the expression hurting his heart. 

"I know you can," Hongjoong said softly, putting his hand over Yeosang’s. "But I want to help. Please… let me?" 

Hongjoong’s eyes glinted in the darkness, full of quiet care that pressed against Yeosang’s chest. His omega stirred restlessly, aching for comfort, for the unbearable relief of being held. It begged him to hand over the reins and allow someone else to carry the burden. Hongjoong was dependable. Hongjoong would make everything better. It was okay to want this.

And Yeosang hated how much he wanted it. How easy it would be to give in. 

He gave a small shrug, hoping it read as indifference. Hongjoong tongued his cheek, studying him closely as though he was trying to decipher the meaning behind the gesture. Jongho’s criticism echoed in his thoughts. 

‘I’m not a mind reader, hyung. None of us are,’ he’d said.

Yeosang wished he could be brave, wished he could bare his chest and be told his worries weren’t true. He wished someone would look at him and see the ugly, tangled mess he kept hidden beneath his quiet composure. That they could cleanse him of the loneliness that clung to his ribs like rot. 

But he just sat there, trembling in the quiet.

And then Hongjoong moved. He just opened his arms and gathered Yeosang in gently. Yeosang’s omega melted at the touch, itching to burrow closer to the Alpha. Yeosang restrained his instincts, ignoring the tension that filled his body. His heart was beating slowly. He was still fine. 

Hongjoong noticed, his brows pinching with concern.

"You have to let it go," he murmured, tightening his arm around Yeosang’s shoulder and tugging. His other hand reached down, carefully turning Yeosang’s wrist upward in his lap. "Stop fighting for control. Just… relax your body."  

Yeosang didn’t want to relax. He couldn’t. Not when he was holding onto control with a thread. He couldn’t bear to let it snap right now. It would be absolutely humiliating, but, more importantly, Hongjoong would realize Yeosang was too much. 

The older man cradled his hand, thumb brushing over Yeosang’s wrist gently. He fixated on the digit, watching the hypnotising motion of Hongjoong’s steady movements. His breathing slowed. With his free hand, Hongjoong pressed softly on his temple, encouraging him to lean against him. Yeosang slowly settled against the small Alpha, chest pressed against his chest. He could hear the rhythmic sound of Hongjoong’s heart beating, and his sandalwood scent washed over him like heat. Each breath carried it deeper into his system, the resinous calm weaving through the tight places in his chest and loosening them.  

Hongjoong’s cheek pressed to the crown of his head, cuddling him close. The position was startlingly intimate, but Yeosang lost the will to resist as his body began to tremble, as the adrenaline rush of his anxiety flushed through him. Yeosang’s fingers curled instinctively around the Alpha’s shirt, eyes burning once again.

“Baby,” Hongjoong’s voice was barely above a whisper as his thumb continued to brush against Yeosang’s wrist. "I’m going to scent you," Hongjoong warned in a quiet murmur, giving Yeosang space to refuse. 

Maybe it was the exhaustion that had settled deep in his bones, but Yeosang didn’t pull away. He simply watched their joined hands, watching the way Hongjoong’s fingers moved up his arm until their wrists aligned. The warm scent of sandalwood deepened in the space between them, mingling with Yeosang’s lighter, fruitier scent. It bloomed softly in the air, familiar and grounding, wrapping around him like a well-worn blanket. It was familiar, something Yeosang had smelled almost every day since he’d joined the pack, but today it carried something else. 

Home.

Yeosang clung to the feeling, fingers curling tighter into the fabric of Hongjoong’s shirt. He hadn’t felt that kind of safety since he’d dissolved their bonds. Everything about Hongjoong right now felt like an unspoken promise of safety and warmth as long as he stayed near. As silence wrapped around them, Yeosang’s body softened. The tension he’d clung to for so long drained from his limbs, slipping away in pieces until he felt like a boneless puddle that had been poured into Hongoong’s lap.

Yeosang lost track of how long they sat there. Maybe it was the exhaustion dulling his usual restraint, or perhaps he was tipsy off the pheromones pressing down on them, but eventually, he found himself speaking without thinking. 

"You guys have been doing that a lot recently.”

"Hm?" Hongjoong tilted his head, trying to catch his expression. Yeosang noticed it in his peripheral vision but kept his gaze fixed on their hands.

Yeosang twisted his wrist slightly, drawing Hongjoong’s attention to it.

"Scenting you?" Hongjoong asked. Yeosang nodded, his forehead accidentally grazing Hongjoong’s scent gland. He flinched.

"Sorry," he muttered, beginning to pull back, but Hongjoong gently pressed him back down with a soft shushing sound.

Yeosang let himself settle again, cheek tucked under Hongjoong’s jaw, their scent mingling softly in the dark. After a pause, Hongjoong’s voice rumbled low above him, “Would you like us to stop?”

Yeosang considered it. 

It was a difficult question, not because he didn’t know what he wanted, but because he didn’t know why they were offering it now. When they’d lived together, scenting had been more common even as their possessiveness over each other grew. However, in the past year, Yeosang had rarely been scented. Hongjoong had kept up the act as pack Alpha, reaffirming his pack status even as everything else contradicted the behaviour. And, every now and then, San would corner him in the elevator and brush their wrists together, or Seonghwa would rub his wrist gland as they sat at dinner together. Mostly, though, they had maintained a polite distance as they behaved more like coworkers than packmates. Now, though, within the course of one week, he had been scented by almost all the alphas. 

Yeosang didn’t hate it. In fact, he craved it. Some quiet, feral part of him wanted to be drenched in their scents until his own disappeared beneath theirs. But the timing felt cruel. 

If they had been like this before, he would not have spent years in constant pain, praying for their next touch. He couldn’t help but feel robbed by the behaviour, and he couldn’t ignore the truth behind the gentle caresses. Because if he had still been a beta, he would have been alone right now.

“Maybe we’re trying to stake a claim,” Hongjoong offered, answering the unspoken question when Yeosang remained silent for too long.

Yeosang furrowed his brows at the statement. "Why?" 

"Well, speaking for myself personally, it’s been…" Hongjoong paused suddenly, looking up at the ceiling. Yeosang followed his gaze, though all he could see was the sharp angle of Hongjoong’s jaw and the elegant line of his throat. Still, he couldn’t look away. He waited, watching the subtle movement of Hongjoong’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

“Having you out of my pack has been really hard,” Hongjoong admitted at last, voice low. “I know you left for a reason, and I respect it. I do. It’s just…" He trailed off, drawing in a shaky breath. 

"It’s just that you've been mine for so long, and now that you’re not,” Hongjoong rubbed absently at the center of his chest, “it feels so empty here." Yeosang almost whimpered as the Alpha’s scent shifted from his normally rich, earthy scent and took on a smokey undertone, carrying his sadness. 

"I know no one else knows right now outside of our staff and families, but I’m just so scared every day that someone’s going to whisk you away and I’ll lose any chance of ever getting you back."

His words hollowed something inside Yeosang. He shifted closer on instinct, wrapping an arm around Hongjoong’s waist, but his mind reeled. For so long, he had believed his existence didn’t matter much to them. He’d lived in the orbit of their polycule, loving them deeply and watching as they freely gave their affection to each other while leaving him untouched. Yeosang had felt like an extra, tagging along just because they could not get rid of him nicely. 

Now, Hongjoong sat beside him, vulnerably expressing a fear Yeosang hadn’t known existed and didn’t know how to relieve. He couldn’t make empty promises, swearing to stay when he was still so conflicted. But the sorrow emitting from the Captain was undeniable. 

"Hyung," Yeosang murmured helplessly. 

"I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, Sang-ah," Hongjoong said softly. "I just need you to know how precious you are to me. I’d chase you to the ends of the world if I had to," Hongjoong said devotedly.

Yeosang’s throat tightened. He didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t. He just hugged him tighter.

In doing so, his face pressed closer to Hongjoong’s neck. He had gotten lost in Hongjoong’s emotions and forgotten how close they were. His nose accidentally brushed over the Alpha’s scent gland again. Hongjoong’s pheromones burst out, the familiar scent so heady in such a large dose. Yeosang inhaled secretly before pulling back slightly, but Hongjoong’s hand slid to the back of his head, encouraging him to stay still. 

“It’s okay,” Hongjoong whispered. “You don’t have to say anything. Just stay with me a little longer, hmm?”

Yeosang hesitated. The situation had spiraled so far out of his control that he no longer knew where to begin putting the pieces back together. What had started as a simple moment of comfort had unraveled into something so emotionally taxing that he could barely breathe beneath the weight of it. He hadn’t meant to fall apart like this. Hadn’t meant to watch their ever-resilient Captain begin to crack alongside him. Too many unexpected occurrences had thrown him off course in too little time, and now he was floundering in deep waters with nothing to hold onto.

Hongjoong felt like a glowing buoy in the dark, promising to hold him afloat long enough for him to catch his breath. It took him a moment to find the courage, but slowly, he leaned back in, letting his forehead rest on the curve of Hongjoong’s neck.

"We're okay. I'll make sure of it," Hongjoong promised, resting his cheek against Yeosang’s temple. 

Hongjoong's scent began to thicken, deepening into that familiar sandalwood warmth as calming pheromones filled the space between them. His fingers moved gently through Yeosang’s hair, coaxing him to soften. And slowly, the gentle touch and the warm scent helped wash away the last bit of anxiety that had been sitting in his stomach. 

Hongjoong's scent called to him, beckoning him closer with every breath until Yeosang could no longer resist it. He tilted his head slightly. But he underestimated the distance, and his nose brushed gently against the Alpha’s scent gland. Yeosang froze, waiting for a stern scolding for crossing the line, but Hongjoong just leaned closer, pressing closer to Yeosang’s face. 

“Go ahead,” he murmured, his hand cradling the back of Yeosang’s head.

Yeosang's heart stuttered. Was Hongjoong really allowing this? He had never scented Hongjoong like this before. The only other time he’d done something so intimate had been with Wooyoung before either of them had presented. Just days ago, he’d turned Jongho away out of fear of the pack’s reaction. 

But Hongjoong was the head Alpha. If anyone could give permission, it was him.

Hongjoong's nails lightly scratched at his scalp encouragingly as he tilted his head slightly in an open invitation. A shiver tore through him as goosebumps broke out across his skin in a wave. He didn’t dare lean in, so he simply breathed deeply and deliberately.

The warm, woody scent of sandalwood curled through his senses, safe and familiar, instantly quieting the frayed static buzzing in his nerves. Hongjoong had always exuded quiet strength,  radiating a sense of stability, and so, despite the Alpha’s slighter frame, Yeosang felt himself give in. Hongjoong bore his weight silently, rotating between massaging his neck and scratching his scalp.

Yeosang knew he shouldn't let this continue. He had promised himself he wouldn't lean on their guilt and mistake obligation for affection. Yet here he was, tangled in Hongjoong’s guilt, unable to pull away from the comfort he'd starved himself of. 

Even so, shame curled in his chest, tight and bitter. He scoffed, a small exhale of disbelief that brushed the curve of Hongjoong’s neck.

And then the scent changed.

That warm sandalwood deepened, and grew heavier in the air. It wrapped around Yeosang’s shame, burning it away one breath at a time.

The Alpha said something, but Yeosang couldn’t process the words. He was already too far gone, wrapped in the cocoon Hongjoong had built around him. Hongjoong’s fingers traced soothing lines through his hair, slipping past Yeosang’s strained self-control like water, and every quiet breath coaxed him deeper into surrender. Distantly, he recognized the signs of scent drunkenness, but still, he leaned in. 

Without thinking, Yeosang pressed his face to Hongjoong’s neck and gently nuzzled the Alpha’s scent gland. The burst of pheromones that hit him was intoxicating. He rubbed his cheek against the spot, unable to think of anything except his need for more. Hongjoong’s scent was so warm and sweet that it chased every thought from his mind. 

Yeosang didn’t think about propriety or consequences. He didn’t think about his pride or his shame or the way the day had shredded him threadbare. Yeosang only thought of Hongjoong’s skin against his, of the grounding woodiness in the air, and of the quiet promise in the Alpha’s embrace. His limbs grew heavy, loose, his body sagging against Hongjoong’s smaller frame until he was draped over him completely. The world narrowed to scent, breath, and warmth.

For the first time since his presentation, Yeosang’s omega was quiet, finding complete security in the Alpha’s hold. His eyelids fluttered, heavy with exhaustion. As he struggled to keep his eyes open, Hongjoong’s lips brushed against his forehead.

"Sweet dreams," he murmured, the soft words a quiet permission to let go. 

Yeosang hummed faintly in response, too far gone to form real words. And then, sleep took him.

Chapter Text

2:03 a.m.

The clock ticked on in the stillness of Yunho and Yeosang’s living room, its glowing digits glaring tauntingly in the dark. Wooyoung stared at the numbers, unease gnawing steadily at his chest. Yeosang had said he’d be back last night, and yet the apartment remained eerily quiet. 

He gnawed at his lip, lifting his phone for what felt like the hundredth time to see if Yeosang had messaged. Nothing. It wasn’t like Yeosang to break his word. But then again, nothing about Yeosang had been predictable lately.

With a quiet sigh, Wooyoung opened their chat and began to type. ‘Where are you?’ His thumb hovered over the send button. Was he being too much? Too pushy? Yeosang clearly wanted space right now, seeing as he had run from them the moment he was free from his work obligations. 

Wooyoung had stupidly let himself hope things were changing when he’d woken up Wednesday morning to find Yeosang curled up in Hongjoong’s bed, soaked in their Alpha’s scent. But the camera crew had arrived before he could say anything, and Yeosang had scrubbed the scent from his skin before filming. 

By that evening, he was gone again. He’d asked their road manager to drop him off before returning to the dorms, stating he had no more schedules for the rest of the week. Wooyoung had wanted so badly to argue. Yeosang had never left the dorm just because he had time off. But he hadn’t pushed. Because Hongjoong had asked him not to. He had pleaded with him to give Yeosang space to process, and, just like every other time, Wooyoung had stepped back against his own judgment.

Now, with the company giving them an extra week of vacation before comeback preparations, Yeosang had extended his stay with his parents. And Wooyoung regretted saying yes to any of it. 

He had been looking forward to spending time with his favourite person and attempting to bridge the growing gap between them. Yeosang, however, seemed determined to keep hiding from him. This was their only real break in months for the foreseeable future, and Yeosang had chosen to spend it as far away from them as possible.

It hurt more than he wanted to admit.

To make things worse, Mingi had spotted Yeosang outside the CEO’s office two days ago. It had been another gutting reminder of the one thing Wooyoung was trying so hard not to think about: Yeosang hadn’t just left the pack. He was trying to cut himself out of his life. 

Wooyoung sighed loudly and kicked off the blanket, the fuzzy throw landing on the cool floor.

“Jung Wooyoung,” San snapped, startling him. He’d gotten so lost in his thought that he’d forgotten about the alpha still keeping him company. “I swear to God if you don’t se-," San grumbled, cutting himself off with a low growl.

Wooyoung pressed his lips together, stifling a laugh. “Sorry, sorry,” he said appeasingly, retrieving the blanket and carefully tucking San back in.

San glared at him beneath a furrowed brow. His short black hair stuck up at odd angles, flattened on one side where it had been pressed against the couch. Wooyoung knew better than to tease him when he was like this. San was already on edge from being awake this long.

When Yeosang had messaged the group chat to say he’d be back last night, Wooyoung had decided to wait in his dorm. However, Yeosang hadn’t given a specific time, and so he’d just hung around the entire day. Jongho, Yunho, and Mingi had stayed with them for a while, but they'd tapped out at midnight, Yunho declaring the day officially over. Only he and San had remained, and yet, two hours later, Yeosang was still nowhere to be seen.

Wooyoung sighed again, picked up his watered-down iced coffee, and took a long sip. Yeosang would come home before the sun rose. 

They sat in silence for another few minutes before San reached for the remote and turned off the muted TV, plunging them into further darkness.

“It’s late, Young-ah. He’s not coming back tonight,” he said quietly, disentangling himself from the cocoon Wooyoung had stuffed him into. "I’m going to bed. You coming?" 

Wooyoung hesitated. San’s offer was tempting, considering he hadn’t slept with the alpha in days. But he shook his head stubbornly. “He is. He said so.” 

"Okay," San smiled tightly and ruffled his hair. "No more coffee, though." The stern expression on the Alpha’s face briefly pulled Wooyoung out of his melancholy. He reached up and cupped San’s cheeks, pressing soft kisses across his face in gratitude. He loved how thoughtful and caring San was, even if some of their boyfriends teasingly called him domineering. San sighed but let him kiss him to his heart's content. 

“Goodnight,” Wooyoung whispered, kissing him one last time. 

“Night,” San replied, groaning as he stood. Wooyoung hid a smile again. Sometimes, San really did act like an old man.

Still, he followed him to the door, dragging his feet like a child being left behind. He couldn’t help but be disappointed that he was being left alone. He’d wanted Yeosang to feel welcomed when he’d eventually returned, but it seemed the idea of sleep was too tempting for his partners. San paused at the threshold and turned, eyeing him carefully. Wooyoung pouted, hoping it might convince the Alpha to stay.

San just chuckled, poking his forehead lightly. "Don’t stay up too long," San reminded him.

“I won’t,” Wooyoung said, though it was a lie and they both knew it. “Just one more hour.”

“Actually…” the alpha pursed his lips, frowning as he considered something. "Wake Yunho up if he’s still not home in an hour. And send a message in the group chat. I’ll leave my notifications on." 

Wooyoung agreed easily. It was absolutely cause for concern if Yeosang didn’t show up soon. San said goodnight again and disappeared down the hall, leaving him alone in an empty foyer. He sighed and pulled out his phone. 

Seonghwa’s name was still the last in the group chat, a simple acknowledgment of Yeosang’s earlier messages. Wooyoung read them again, even though he had them memorized by now:

Hey (4:37 p.m.)

I’ll be coming back to the dorm tonight (4:37 p.m.)

might be late (9:49 p.m.)

going for dinner with my sister ^_^ (9:49 p.m.)

Wooyoung had initially responded with enthusiasm, but he’d only liked the last message, refraining from texting again since he knew Yeosang was going to be out with his sister. It had taken a lot of effort to hold himself back, but he didn’t want to come off as overbearing, especially not when Yeosang was finally returning. 

He would only have three days with him before their schedule picked up again. 

The automated light shut off, plunging the hallway into darkness. Wooyoung blinked at the glow of his phone screen, thumb hovering over Yeosang’s contact. 

It was past 2 a.m. He wasn’t being clingy, he was being concerned! What kind of person was still out this late on a weeknight? It was far too late for Yeosang to be outside gallivanting, doing God knows what! 

The front door lock beeped.

Wooyoung’s head snapped up. He practically launched himself toward the entrance, heart leaping as he fumbled with the handle.

Yeosang was home.

"Yeosang-ah," Wooyoung cried out as he flung the door open, throwing himself at the omega. Yeosang startled, stepping back just in time to avoid his hug. 

“What took you so long?” Wooyoung whined, trying again. This time, he successfully draped himself over Yeosang dramatically. Yeosang let him cling for a moment before gently pulling back. Wooyoung cupped his face in both hands, squishing his cheeks.

"Do I have to start paying to see your face?" he grumbled. He drank in the sight before him: the fluffy, wind tousled hair, bright eyes underlined with exhaustion, the familiar red birthmark, those soft lips. God, he wanted to kiss him. He wanted to feel that plush lower lip between his own, to taste him, to find out if Yeosang was as sweet as he looked.

His gaze must have lingered on them far too long because Yeosang was suddenly laughing and pushed his hands away.

"Maybe," he teased.

“How much?” Wooyoung gasped, pitching his voice dramatically. “Tell me right now, I’ll wire you the money!”

Yeosang just shook his head, stepping through the doorway and holding it open behind him. “Why are you still up?” he asked.

"What do you mean, why am I up so late?” Wooyoung stomped inside with exaggerated offense. “I was waiting for you!" 

“Oh,” Yeosang said simply, as though being ambushed at the door in the middle of the night was completely normal. It was one of the many things Wooyoung loved about him. How easily he accepted Wooyoung’s chaos without blinking.

"You’re late," Wooyoung pointed out, crossing his arms.

"I said I might be," Yeosang replied evenly, taking his shoes off and placing them neatly on the shelf. 

Wooyoung narrowed his eyes at his dismissive tone. Yeosang tilted his head, confused. In response, Wooyoung narrowed his eyes further until he was squinting through slits. 

Yeosang cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Are you going to move?”

“I guess,” Wooyoung muttered, snatching Yeosang’s bag and turning on his heel. “Now that you’re finally here, we can go to sleep.”

He headed toward Yeosang’s bedroom with a deliberate confidence, hoping it wouldn’t be questioned. If he moved decisively enough, maybe Yeosang wouldn’t think twice about it.

He just needed one night. 

It felt like a millennium since they had slept together. While they had roomed together for years and cuddled to sleep on camera with the rest of the pack, he couldn’t remember the last time it had been just them. They used to sleep together all the time, curled up beside each other during cramped hotel stays and tangled together on studio couches during rushed naps. Wooyoung couldn’t remember when that had stopped.

“In my room?” Yeosang asked behind him, his voice cautious.

Wooyoung nodded, turning around to walk backwards.

“Together?” Yeosang added, looking genuinely bewildered.

Wooyoung’s confidence faltered. Would Yeosang be uncomfortable? 

He knew Yeosang valued his space. Wooyoung, on the other hand, had always craved closeness. He felt most at ease when he was doing something with the people he loved. And for a long time, Yeosang had met him halfway. 

Maybe he was being overly optimistic, but he had believed Yeosang’s past hesitation around touch had simply been a misunderstanding. He had been watching Yeosang closely since he’d returned and had noticed that, as long as they took the initiative, Yeosang was relatively receptive to their affection. He’d allowed Yunho and Jongho to scent his wrist, allowed San to coax him to sleep, and he’d even slept in Hongjoong’s tiny floor mattress with him!

He’d thought that meant Yeosang had overcome his concern about the alpha’s possessiveness, but perhaps not. Maybe he only saw Wooyoung as one of the alpha’s omegas still. Wooyoung still didn’t fully understand how Yeosang had reached that conclusion. None of the Alphas in their group believed in old-fashioned dominance. They were not the type to treat a bonded omega like property. But fear did not always follow logic.

As he stared back at his confused friend, he wondered if that fear still remained. Was Wooyoung pushing too hard, too fast? Was he making Yeosang anxious again? The scent of cherry lingered in the air, soft and familiar, tinged with the mellow plum of Yeosang’s sister. 

So he just nodded.

“Together,” he repeated with forced cheerfulness. “It’ll be like old times!”

Like always, he would fake it until he made it. That was how he navigated life. It was how he had befriended ATEEZ, how he’d mustered up the courage to ask Hongjoong for help during his heats, how he’d convinced the world that nothing fazed him. He hoped it would also be how he mended his fractured relationship with Yeosang.

So he pushed forward, switching tactics the moment Yeosang looked like he might say no.

“Please, Sang-ah? Please, please, please?” Wooyoung pleaded, eyes wide and shimmering as he leaned into the cutesy act. Yeosang had never fallen for it before, but every now and then, he gave in. Sometimes for optics, and sometimes to just humor him. 

Thankfully, today was one of those days.  

“Okay,” Yeosang relented, “but I need to shower first.”

Wooyoung squealed before quickly slapping a hand over his mouth when Yeosang’s eyes flicked toward Yunho’s bedroom in alarm.

"Sorry," he whispered, trying to suppress his grin. It only made it worse, resulting in a smug smirk that Yeosang gracefully ignored.

 “That’s fine,” Wooyoung said, hopping on his toes. “I’ll just wait in bed.” With that, he twirled and skipped his way toward Yeosang’s room.

“Did you drink coffee?” Yeosang called after him.

Wooyoung giggled. Of course, Yeosang would immediately figure out why he was so high energy. After all these years, no one knew him like Yeosang did. The thought filled him with a quiet warmth.

His mother always said that to be loved was to be known, and no one embodied that quite like Kang Yeosang. Wooyoung had thought he knew him, too. But the events of the past month had shattered that illusion. It still hurt, knowing something he once believed unbreakable had cracked so deeply, and he hadn’t even noticed.

He pushed the thought aside. Yeosang was still here. Their relationship might be fractured, but it wasn’t beyond repair.

“What gave it away?” Wooyoung asked lightly as he reached the door.

His stomach tightened at the sight of his room, remembering the last time he had been in here. He could feel the ghost of their missing bond tickling at his senses, the agonising pain rearing its head once more. He braced himself, quietly reinforcing his barriers so he wouldn’t disturb the others in their sleep. Drawing a deep breath, he let the air ground him.

The scent that filled the space was unmistakably Yeosang, a soft cherry blend, now laced with freshly cut grass. Yunho’s presence eased some of his pain. Yet the emptiness still whispered at the edges. Wooyoung made a mental note to steep every corner of Yeosang’s space in his own scent before the night was over.

“You can…” Yeosang gestured toward the room, a quiet invitation in his voice.

Wooyoung didn’t need to be told twice. He dove onto the bed and flopped onto his side, patting the space beside him with a grin. "I’ll be here waiting, honey," he teased flirtatiously.

Yeosang rolled his eyes and turned away without responding. Wooyoung giggled as he headed to the closet, having noticed the way his cheeks had darkened. Yeosang always looked breathtaking when flustered. He always looked incredibly delicate, yet when he blushed, it further emphasized the softness. The pink flush deepened across his cheeks, trailing up to the tips of his ears, making his skin glow. Even the way his lashes lowered to avoid Wooyoung’s gaze added to the quiet allure, a flicker of restraint trying to hold back something already slipping through.

The urge to coo and tease rose in his throat. He longed to see more of it bloom across his features, to gently unravel his composure thread by thread. But he held it back, letting the moment linger untouched.

Yeosang kept his gaze down as he gathered a bundle of clean clothes and slipped into the bathroom.

"Hurry up," Wooyoung called after him, rolling off his bed. He needed to get ready for bed, too. He had already showered earlier and gone through most of his nighttime routine, but he still needed to brush his teeth after the coffee.

When he returned from Yunho’s bathroom, Yeosang was still in the shower.

Which meant it was the perfect time to infuse his scent in Yeosang’s space. He used to do this all the time when they roomed together. Yeosang always pretended to be annoyed, but Wooyoung had known he never truly minded.

He started with the closet, carefully rubbing some of Yeosang’s clothes against the inside of his wrists and along the curve of his neck, where his scent glands were strongest. He focused on the more recognizable items, the hoodies and shirts Yeosang often wore. He wanted his scent to linger on the things Yeosang reached for without thinking.

As he burrowed deeper into the closet, searching for one of Yeosang’s favorite pieces, his fingers brushed against something soft.

“Oh! He still has you!” Wooyoung grinned, pulling the plush blue bunny into the light and turning it in his hands.

They had won it years ago at an arcade, back when they were still in high school. It had taken half a dozen failed attempts from both of them before Yeosang finally snagged it from the claw machine. He’d offered it to Wooyoung afterward, but Wooyoung had insisted Yeosang keep it, declaring he was the rightful winner.

Despite how old it was, the bunny was still in great shape. Smiling to himself, Wooyoung scented it fondly before deciding it didn’t deserve to live in the darkest corner of Yeosang’s closet. He brought it out with him, flopping onto the bed and dropping it beside him.

Rolling onto his side, he rummaged through Yeosang’s nightstand for a charger. They shared the same phone model and, knowing Yeosang’s tendency to misplace things, Wooyoung knew he always kept a spare wire. 

He plugged in his phone, then lay back, holding the bunny above him with both hands.

"He took good care of you," he murmured to the relic of their past. 

He missed those days when everything had felt so easy. Back then, his crush on Yeosang had been a harmless, schoolboy thing. It hadn’t made him overthink every interaction. He had been free to be himself, to act on every instinct as they surfaced.

But as his feelings deepened, that freedom faded. Now he found himself constantly controlling his natural reactions, reading into every interaction, and then doubting his scrutiny. It was exhausting. 

He thought back to when they had first begun presenting. Nothing had changed, and yet, everything had. 

Everyone else had presented as expected, but Yeosang had shocked them all. They had been so sure he would present as an omega, only to be stunned when he presented as a beta.

Looking back, they should have seen it coming.

When their mandatory subgender education began, Yeosang’s behavior shifted. Wooyoung had been so confused. He remembered getting into a heated argument with one of their teachers, refusing to believe Yeosang’s change in demeanor was due to his subgender. And yet, that’s what everyone insisted on, and eventually, even he started to believe it. 

"Really?" Yeosang’s voice snapped him out of his musings. He panicked for a second, worried his darkening thoughts had tainted his scent. A quick sniff relaxed him, his cinnamon scent only slightly spicy. Wooyoung lowered the bunny.

“You still have him,” he said softly, placing the toy down beside him.

"You scented my things," Yeosang said, brows furrowed in familiar annoyance. Wooyoung smiled. That little furrowed look used to mean Yeosang was irritated, but lately, it meant more to Wooyoung. It meant Yeosang was growing more willing to show how he felt.

“Yes, really ,” Wooyoung replied. “I don’t like that your room doesn’t smell like me,” he added with a dramatic huff.

Yeosang was drying his hair with a towel, but at Wooyoung’s words, he paused. His head tilted slightly, like a puppy hearing an unfamiliar sound. Wooyoung’s heart did a little somersault. That confused, flushed face paired with damp hair and the subtle pout of his lips was lethal. The cute aggression surged in his chest. Yeosang had no idea how dangerous he looked when he was unsure. Wooyoung wanted to scoop him up and pocket him forever.

"Why should it smell like you?" Yeosang asked, face frighteningly innocent, as if there were no reason at all his room should carry Wooyoung’s scent. Wooyoung’s heart stuttered, breath catching sharp in his throat.

“What do you mean, why? We’re a pack!” he blurted.

Yeosang blinked, surprise flickering in his eyes as his brows lifted. Realizing his mistake almost instantly, Wooyoung backpedaled. 

“I mean… we’re- we’re best friends,” he corrected, his voice faltering around the words. 

It still stung, saying that. It felt like a lie he had to repeat until it became true. Yeosang wasn’t part of the pack anymore. That reality carved at him every day, reopening wounds that never had a chance to heal. Once, they had belonged to each other in a way that words couldn’t capture. And now, they were just friends. No matter how grateful he was that Yeosang still existed in his life, it didn’t make the loss any easier.

“Sure,” Yeosang said, voice flat as he resumed drying his hair. Wooyoung’s heart squeezed.

"What do you mean, sure ? We are, aren’t we?" he pressed, studying Yeosang’s face closely. Yeosang looked completely unbothered, but Wooyoung could see a tightness in his expression that hadn’t been there before. 

“Sure,” he said again, this time with a shrug, like the words meant nothing.

Wooyoung’s frown deepened. Unease twisted in his gut, crawling upward until it sat heavily beneath his ribs. Yeosang’s behaviour was almost contemptuous. It felt like he was holding onto something that he didn’t want to voice aloud but was struggling to keep close to his chest. He wanted to dig out whatever it was, scared of the insinuation in Yeosang’s tone.

“Kang Yeosang! Stop saying ‘sure’ like that. Why can’t you just say yes?” Wooyoung demanded, his voice cracking with frustration.

“Yes,” Yeosang replied immediately, voice soft and placating.

The discomfort gnawed deeper. Wooyoung’s lungs felt constricted, breath shallow beneath the growing tension. Yeosang was being purposefully difficult. 

It had been so long since Wooyoung had seen this version of Yeosang, and he floundered, unsure how to react. Outside of him, none of the pack had ever seen him like this. Usually, he was gentle, peace-seeking to a fault. Yeosang had always been calm, composed, and easy-going. He avoided conflict, kept the peace, and worried constantly about hurting others. 

Wooyoung wondered if this side of him was specifically reserved for him. Yeosang was still drying his hair, his expression unreadable yet unwavering. The challenge in his stare was subtle but present, daring Wooyoung to push further.

Wooyoung inhaled slowly. He couldn’t afford to meet Yeosang at the edge. He needed to keep his cool and handle things maturely. He couldn't lose Yeosang again. 

Wooyoung closed his eyes and counted to three. 

“Kang Yeosang,” he said tightly, “you swore on it. I’m your best friend. For life.”

Yeosang blinked at him, the blank expression grating on his nerves. Wooyoung gritted his teeth. First, Yeosang had left the pack. Then the group. Was he planning to cut all ties next? Wooyoung could survive Yeosang not being his packmate. Maybe, eventually, he could even learn to survive him not being part of ATEEZ. But he absolutely could not live a life without Yeosang in it. 

“Why are you being so weird about it?" His voice cracked with the weight of his question, already afraid of the answer. Did Yeosang really not care, or was that expression another mask to hide behind?

Yeosang turned away, refusing to hold his gaze. He tossed the towel on the back of his chair and sat down like he hadn’t just torn Wooyoung open with silence. 

"I don’t know," he said after a pause. "Nothing about you has really screamed best friend in a while." 

The words landed like a slap, precise and devastating. Wooyoung flinched inwardly, barely breathing as Yeosang busied himself with preparing his skincare. 

Wooyoung wanted to protest, to claw at the truth Yeosang had just laid bare. But deep down, he knew it was fair. He was barely deserving of the friend title, forget best friend. Somewhere along the way, the label had become an excuse, a shield against the growing discomfort between them. He’d ignored the quiet shifts, the faltering warmth, the unspoken distance, brushing it all off as a beta thing as if that explained everything.

If he had made an effort to have a real conversation with Yeosang, would things have gotten this bad? If he’d sat Yeosang down and actually asked what he was feeling, what he needed, would they be standing here like strangers now? 

Instead, he’d distracted himself, throwing himself into the comfort of the familiar. He’d allowed the arms of his lovers to soothe his worries and insecurities without actually dealing with the core issue. It had been easier. Safer. And ultimately, his biggest mistake.

Because now here he was, standing before the person who had once felt like home, seeing the extent of his failure. He wanted to shut it down, to bury the ache and pretend it didn’t matter. But it did. It mattered more than anything.

Something must’ve happened to Yeosang before his return to the dorms. Maybe a conversation with his sister or his parents had pried something open. Whatever it was, for the first time in years, Yeosang was ready to talk.

And yet, Wooyoung selfishly wished he wouldn’t.

He wasn’t prepared for this. Not for the weight of Yeosang’s honesty and most certainly not for the mirror it would hold up to his own negligence. But he couldn’t afford to waste the moment. Yeosang was hovering at the precipice, ready to leap, and Wooyoung knew if he stepped back now, he might never gather the courage again. 

 Too many things had gone unspoken for too long. He had spent far too long allowing Yeosang to push him away in the name of comfort. He was going to get his answers. 

Wooyoung took a deep breath, steeling himself. He had to remember to remain calm and open. If he defaulted to defensiveness, Yeosang would shut down.  

“I know,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

He hesitated for a beat, then asked, “Can you tell me what changed?” 

He was done assuming things and projecting his own ideas into Yeosang’s behaviour. No more reading between the lines and misinterpreting silence. He needed to hear it from Yeosang.

Yeosang glanced at him furtively as he rubbed a cream under his eyes. 

"Everything," he said simply. 

Wooyoung’s heart thundered in his chest, but he remained silent, waiting for Yeosang to continue. It seemed like Yeosang had already reached his limit, though, refusing to continue unprompted. 

“Everything, how?” Wooyoung asked gently, breaking the silence.

Yeosang met his eyes through the mirror for a second before looking away again, and Wooyoung’s throat tightened at the sight of the tears threatening to fall. He wanted to get up, to wrap Yeosang in his arms and apologise over and over again, but he wasn’t sure his touch would be welcome right now. 

“It’s…” Yeosang faltered, his voice barely audible. "I- I just don’t think that…” Yeosang paused, swallowing visibly. “I don’t think I’m a priority to you anymore."

"Yeo-," Wooyoung started to refute him, but Yeosang rushed on, as though afraid to lose his courage.

"It’s kind of like that thing with San when we were younger, except… it was all of you,” He faltered again, breath shaking. “As soon- I feel like as soon as you all started dating, you," Yeosang swallowed again, "you forgot about me." He paused mid-motion, the jar of cream still open in his hand. “Well- maybe even before then,” he added softly, the words so low they barely reached Wooyoung.

Wooyoung felt his heart split in two, his omega curling in on itself with a wounded whimper at the weight of Yeosang’s words. He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms to keep himself grounded. On some level, he had always known Yeosang felt neglected. What else could explain his willingness to sever their pack bond so violently? He had endured so much, for so long, without any of them noticing. But hearing it now, spoken plainly from Yeosang’s own lips, struck differently.

Noticing the pained look on Wooyoung’s face, Yeosang rushed to soften the blow. 

"Not that-, I don’t blame you guys for it. It’s just," Yeosang smiled at him, his eyes carrying so much anguish that Wooyoung felt like he was choking on it. "Maybe it’s time we admit that we’re not who we thought we’d be when we were seventeen." 

There was finality in his voice that made Wooyoung panic.

He scrambled to Yeosang’s side, dropping to his knees before him. “Yeosang, I’m so, so sorry,” he whispered. It was all he could manage. “I know I get caught up in myself easily, and that’s my biggest shortcoming. I should have been better to you. I should have paid closer attention. I should have noticed you were struggling." Wooyoung carefully took Yeosang’s hand, sandwiching it between his own. 

Yeosang’s expression twisted, a flash of despair flickering across his features before he gently pulled his hand away.

“It’s fine,” he said quietly. “If I had meant anything to you, you would’ve noticed. But when I needed you most, you were too-” He stopped abruptly, dropping his head and taking a shaky breath. 

The unfinished sentence cut deeper than anything else. A broken sob tore out of Wooyoung’s chest. “No. No, it’s not like that,” he whimpered, reaching for Yeosang again.

Yeosang stood quickly, moving out of his reach. 

“Yeosang-ah, please,” Wooyoung scrambled to his feet, his words tumbling out. "I was wrong, I know, I was. I- I don’t know how I could ever make it up to you, but-." Wooyoung’s rambling was cut off by Yeosang shaking his head repeatedly. 

He grabbed a few tissues from the vanity and held them out. Wooyoung stared at it dumbly, his apologies catching in his throat as tears streamed down his face. 

"It’s okay," Yeosang said sorrowfully, dabbing at Wooyoung’s cheeks with the tissues as his own spilled over. “Don’t cry,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.” He brushed at his own face harshly, ridding his cheeks of any wetness, then continued to gently wipe at Wooyoung’s cheeks. “Forget I said anything. I’m sorry.”

“Sang-ah,” Wooyoung whispered, throat burning. Somehow, Yeosang was apologising again as though he were the one at fault.

"I’m serious, it’s fine," Yeosang grabbed more tissues and pressed them into Wooyoung’s hands. "My feelings are my own problem. It’s not fair of me to ask for more than you or any of the other guys can give…" He looked up, blinking rapidly at the ceiling to keep the tears at bay.

“You’re wrong,” Wooyoung said fiercely, stepping in and cupping Yeosang’s face with both hands. “I swear on my soul, you’re wrong," he repeated. 

The sight before him wrecked him. Yeosang’s face was hot under his hands, the matching flush filling his cheeks with colour. His eyes were glimmering with tears he refused to allow to fall. "Whatever it is that you want, you just need to ask. I’ll give it to you, I promise. Just say the word. It’s yours." His hands trembled where they held Yeosang’s cheeks, overwhelmed by how warm he felt, how close he finally was.

“I love you so much it hurts,” he whispered. The words fell from his lips before he could stop them, his voice cracking with emotion. Tears started falling, and he cut himself off, squeezing his eyes shut to try and wrestle back control. He couldn’t cry again and make Yeosang feel as though he needed to comfort him once more

"I-," Wooyoung bit his lip to stop the words from pouring out. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. He was done with all this secrecy and planning. There had been value in their caution, but Yeosang had already pulled so far away that any more hesitation could mean losing him completely.

Yeosang had poured out what he could, and it was his turn to reciprocate. The anguish flickering in Yeosang’s eyes was unbearable, and Wooyoung had exhausted every strategy that tiptoed around the truth. He couldn’t keep hiding behind caution. Their pack was so focused on avoiding the risk of driving Yeosang away, they'd overlooked a harsher truth: Yeosang was already halfway out the door. 

Maybe if Wooyoung said what needed to be said, it would be enough to make him pause. Enough to remind him that he was wanted. Needed. Loved. 

Wooyoung inhaled sharply. Rejection couldn’t hurt more than this anyway.

Chapter Text

Yeosang’s body ached, despair woven into the very fabric of his being as Wooyoung cupped his face so delicately, swearing that he loved him. Regret had long consumed him, from the very moment the first tear had dripped down Wooyoung’s cheek. It sat heavy on his chest like a stone, compressing his lungs. The weight was suffocating, choking him as he stared helplessly at the man before him, whose eyes pleaded with him to just believe.

If only he hadn’t opened his mouth. 

He had thought it a blessing in disguise when he came home to find Wooyoung eagerly waiting for him. The courage his sister had given him still lingered in his veins, false hope dressed as bravery. It had taken a monumental effort on her part. 

She had always been his guiding light, the one person who knew him better than he knew himself. When he’d finally let everything spill out in the privacy of his childhood bedroom, it was as if he were breathing for the first time after years spent underwater. The words came haltingly at first, then in a flood, years of silence breaking open all at once. He hadn’t realized how much this secret weighed him down until he gave them shape. Later, they’d sat on a worn park bench near their condo for three long hours, slowly working up the courage to start with the one person he trusted to be able to shoulder his burden. 

And so, under her slightly pushy coaxing, he’d braved the storm. 

But she’d been wrong. 

Now, standing in front of Wooyoung, Yeosang felt sick with the weight of his mistake. How could he have believed Wooyoung could carry something that he himself couldn't make sense of? Self-loathing crawled beneath his skin. Why had he lashed out like that? Wooyoung hadn’t deserved the vitriol he’d hurled, no matter how true the words had felt in the moment.

With trembling hands, Yeosang took hold of Wooyoung’s forearms. "I'm sorry," he murmured sorrowfully, gently trying to detach the hands from his face. 

Wooyoung’s face was infused with desperation, and Yeosang knew he couldn’t calm him down while he himself was so tightly wound up. He needed distance to regain control of himself. But Wooyoung only tightened his hold, refusing to let go.

"Don't you dare apologise," Wooyoung said roughly, his voice nearly a snarl. Yeosang flinched, startled by the sudden switch. Wooyoung’s eyes were blazing, his gaze locked onto Yeosang with a fierceness that pinned Yeosang in place. "There’s nothing you need to apologise for. I-" Wooyoung sighed, hanging his head for a second. "You're right. I was a shitty friend."

"No," Yeosang interrupted, shaking his head as much as Wooyoung would allow. "I was rude, you didn't deser-" His words were abruptly muffled by Wooyoung’s hand pressed firmly over his mouth.

"Let me finish!" Wooyoung scowled, palm tight against Yeosang’s face. 

Yeosang instinctively tried to break free, rearing back in a desperate attempt to create space. But Wooyoung stayed with him, unrelenting. He was deceptively strong in moments like this, and despite Yeosang’s broader frame and heavier muscles, Wooyoung’s grip didn’t falter for a second. Their scuffle came to an abrupt halt as Yeosang backed straight into the wall, the solid surface cool against his spine, trapping him between it and the firestorm that was Wooyoung.

“Jung Wooyoung,” Yeosang mumbled, his voice muffled beneath the hand still clamped over his mouth. He narrowed his eyes, frustration and shame pooling behind them. “I’m trying to say sorry,” he argued, the words barely audible. 

Wooyoung understood anyway.

"Well," he huffed, shoving his hair out of his face with his free hand. “Stop trying, and I’ll let you go.” His scowl deepened as he stared down at him, even though they stood eye to eye.

Yeosang instinctively straightened to his full height, as if that might steady the ache in his chest. But it didn’t. His breath caught anyway as he blinked at the other omega, unsure whether to push back or let it go. He didn’t know if Wooyoung was still hurt or if this bizarre push-and-pull was Wooyoung’s way of not falling apart. Either way, Yeosang had no idea how to fix it.

When he finally stopped struggling, Wooyoung slowly eased his hand away.

“So-” Yeosang started, but before he could finish, Wooyoung slapped his hand back over his mouth.

Yeosang groaned in protest and, without thinking, stuck out his tongue and licked Wooyoung’s palm.

"Yeosang!" Wooyoung yelped, jerking back and wiping his hand on Yeosang’s shirt with a dramatic glare.

The sheer absurdity of it all hit Yeosang like a wave. Just moments ago, they’d both been crying, his throat still raw with emotion, and now they were tangled in a childish scuffle over apologies. A laugh bubbled up from deep inside him, sharp and breathless, cutting through the tightness that had gripped his chest. He coughed quickly, trying to hide it, but the warmth of it surprised him.

Wooyoung’s puffy eyes narrowed, his lip jutting out in mock seriousness as he pointed a finger at Yeosang. “Don’t laugh! I’m being serious!”

Yeosang pressed his lips together, trying to stifle his laughter, but the sulky expression Wooyoung was wearing made it impossible. He looked up at the ceiling, struggling to hold in the smile threatening to break free.

It had always been this way with Wooyoung. No matter how dark things got, no matter how far Yeosang sank, Wooyoung had this way of pulling him up again. The smallest spark could set off a storm of childish defiance, and tonight, that storm was a lifeline.

“Kang Yeosang!” Wooyoung stomped, laughter creeping into his voice despite himself. “Listen to me!”

“Okay, okay,” Yeosang breathed, nodding, eyes still averted as he swallowed back a final giggle. “I’m listening.”

He didn’t know what had shifted, only that something had. Maybe it was the sheer absurdity of their argument, or maybe it was Wooyoung’s refusal to handle him like porcelain. Since his designation had come to light, everyone else had treated him like something fragile, walking on eggshells as though he might shatter with one wrong word.

And on some level, Yeosang appreciated their gentleness; his omega responded instinctively to it, soaking up their care like sunlight. But beneath that surface comfort, he struggled to believe in it. It didn’t feel like him they were caring for, but like they were caring for what he had become. The attention felt too curated, and he didn’t know how to trust it. 

Wooyoung’s current behaviour was refreshing. 

He’d charged in headfirst, unfiltered and unapologetically himself. Yeosang both loved and hated that about him. It was the very trait that had drawn them together in the beginning, but it was also what had taken Wooyoung away from him. And yet, here he was again, wielding that same familiar bravado with a softness Yeosang hadn’t expected, not after everything he’d said. 

Maybe their situation was salvageable after all.

Wooyoung seemed caught off guard by his easy agreement, stepping back slightly. "Oh, um, I was going to say-" he trailed off, eyes flicking around the room before settling back on him. “We need to dry your hair!” he finished with a firm nod, reaching up to touch his head.

It was painfully obvious Wooyoung had been about to say something else. 

Yeosang didn’t push. Curiosity gnawed at him, but he held it back and turned toward his vanity. Though Yeosang often slept with damp hair, he knew how Wooyoung felt about sleeping with damp hair. It had always been one of his self-care non-negotiables, especially given how much stress and styling their profession demanded. It had been a common point of contention when they had roomed together. Wooyoung used to get irritated whenever Yeosang collapsed into bed without drying his hair, grumbling as he dragged the dryer over to his bed.

It had been a quiet kind of care, the kind Yeosang hadn’t known how to ask for, but had clung to all the same. It had been hard to function sometimes, especially with four withering bonds and omega instincts he hadn’t even known were going unmet. And just like so many other things, it had slipped away when they moved to separate dorms. 

As he sat down at the vanity and reached for the dryer, Wooyoung approached from behind, his hand coming to rest over Yeosang’s.

Yeosang stilled, his pulse fluttering with something he didn’t dare name. He looked up at him through the mirror, trying to ignore the way Wooyoung had practically molded himself to his back, their cheeks brushing lightly with each breath. 

“Can I?” Wooyoung asked softly, eyes meeting his in the reflection.

Yeosang’s heart stuttered, but he nodded, fingers slowly releasing the dryer. He wasn’t sure why Wooyoung would want the chore, but he was more than eager to hand it over. He missed the quiet intimacy of Wooyoung’s fingers combing gently through his hair.

"I miss this," Wooyoung said, the words barely audible over the hum of the dryer. 

Yeosang didn’t speak, afraid that anything he said might break the fragile moment. It didn’t seem like Wooyoung expected him to, though.

"I miss spending time with you like this," Wooyoung continued, eyes focused on Yeosang’s hair. "We should do this more often."

Yeosang hummed in agreement, but the noise felt too small for the moment. The atmosphere had shifted again, and everything felt too heavy. They really were all over the place today.

Still, the casual promise of more hit Yeosang harder than he expected. Wooyoung purposely choosing to be close again filled him with grief. At one point, this had come naturally. There had been a time when Yeosang hadn’t taken a single breath without Wooyoung beside him, sharing the same air. Now, it was a rare moment returned to him like a borrowed thing, and it hurt that this may never be their norm again.

“How’s Mom doing?” Wooyoung asked casually.

“Good,” Yeosang replied. “Her and Dad said to give everyone their regards.” 

It was a lie, or at least a soft version of the truth. His father had said that, eventually, but he had been angry on his behalf, and not quietly.

“How come you stayed there for so long?” Wooyoung asked, just as lightly, though the question made Yeosang tense. He almost snorted. He would have stayed longer if his parents hadn’t been so relentless.

He’d run there in a panic, afraid to spend his free time with the pack, especially after what happened with Hongjoong last week. It scared him how easy it had been, how quickly he’d melted into it. He was starved for affection, and he knew it, but that moment had only made it worse. He couldn’t even look at the Alpha now without feeling the tug to bury his face in his neck, to drink in the warmth and soft reassurances he’d offered so freely. It had made something fragile in him loosen, and ever since, it had been harder to hold himself together. 

But his family hadn’t exactly been thrilled when he showed up. His father had been upset at how the pack had handled things. His mother, surprisingly, had taken a more measured approach, insisting it was all just a misunderstanding, that things could be fixed if he gave it time. She had even offered to drive Yeosang back himself. It was only his sister who seemed to really understand the space he was stuck in, and eventually, she wore him down and convinced him to go back.

"Haven't seen them in a while," he responded selectively. "I missed them."

"You haven't seen me in a while either," Wooyoung countered,  leaning down so their faces were nearly level. His tone was teasing, but his gaze held something sharper. "Didn't you miss me?"

Yeosang leaned back instinctively, craning his neck to put some space between them. Wooyoung was far too close, and he looked like he might try to steal a kiss soon. It had almost become second nature to avoid this kind of affection. Even though it had been a while since Wooyoung had tried anything off-camera, Yeosang could still read the signs. The tilt of his head and the gleam in his eyes made him instinctively alert.

He floundered for an answer, too flustered to formulate a coherent thought. 

"I saw you a week ago," he managed. 

Wooyoung stood with an exaggerated pout. “You’re so mean,” he huffed, turning his attention back to Yeosang’s hair.

Yeosang couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. Maybe his sister had been right after all. He’d been worried about how hurt Wooyoung had seemed earlier, but it seemed he’d bounced back just fine. 

Then, just as suddenly, Wooyoung leaned over again and pressed a loud kiss to Yeosang’s cheek. Yeosang’s eyes widened as Wooyoung stood with a satisfied grin. "I missed you. I always miss you. I miss you even when you’re with me." 

Yeosang’s face flushed hot, the color blooming across his cheeks. Wooyoung cooed at the sight, delighted. He leaned down again, catching Yeosang’s head gently and holding him in place as he scattered more kisses across his cheek. Yeosang’s brain stuttered through the same internal debate he always had when the others got like this on camera. He sat pliantly, torn between swatting him away and letting it happen. 

Before he could make a decision, Wooyoung pulled back and resumed drying his hair, as if he hadn’t just ambushed him with affection.

Yeosang was pretty sure his hair was dry, but Wooyoung didn’t stop. He kept running his fingers through the dark strands, slow and gentle, the lingering warmth from the dryer wrapping around Yeosang like a blanket.

“Young-ah,” Yeosang spoke up after a moment, voice quiet.

Wooyoung looked at him through the mirror, a troubled expression in his eyes.

Yeosang hesitated, then swallowed his words. “Never mind.”

Wooyoung was clearly stalling, dragging this out as he worked up the courage to say whatever it was he’d held back earlier. Yeosang was exhausted, and the soothing motion of Wooyoung’s fingers made it difficult to remain alert, but still, he waited.

It took another five minutes before Wooyoung finally turned off the dryer, plunging the room into a hush that rang louder than the hum had. He set the appliance down and, in the same motion, wrapped his arms around Yeosang from behind.

“I love you,” Wooyoung said softly, pressing their cheeks together again as he met Yeosang’s gaze in the mirror.

Yeosang’s heart clenched, the words slamming into him with familiar cruelty.

“I- I love you too,” he answered, the response thick on his tongue as sadness settled heavy in his chest.

His I love you was a quiet devastation, an aching truth he carried everywhere. It was an all-consuming declaration that stripped him bare. Wooyoung’s was lighter. Carefree. It was affection easily given to all of his friends, soft and warm, but without weight. Yeosang had accepted that long ago. 

He knew he would never be loved by Wooyoung the way Wooyoung loved those he chose. And he was okay with that; he had no other choice. It still hurt, though. 

It always would.

It hit him then, sudden and sharp. He’d been unknowingly teetering on the edge, reluctant to fully let go, but now he knew: he couldn’t stay. Not without losing himself. It had been easier when he thought he was a beta, even with the agonising alpha bonds. There had been distance, a line the others hadn’t been willing to cross. And even then, it had felt impossible. But now, every sweet word tried to settle in his mind, to delude him into thinking that maybe, just maybe , they could come to love him the way they loved each other.

He couldn’t afford to fall any further.

"You’re my best friend, my everything," Wooyoung continued, his voice thick with emotion. "I just want you to know that I would do anything to make you happy. To see you smile. You know that, right?" 

Yeosang turned, needing more than a reflection. "What’s wrong?" he asked, unable to decipher the chaos behind his eyes.

“I know I don’t deserve to tell you this,” Wooyoung said, voice tight as he squeezed his eyes shut, shutting Yeosang out. 

Yeosang’s heart twisted. He hated that he had nothing else to go off of. Despite everything in his words and posture, Wooyoung’s scent remained steady.

"You haven’t done anything wrong," Yeosang refuted gently, reaching for his hand. Wooyoung smiled sadly but shook his head. 

"I let my fear control me." Shame flickered across Wooyoung’s face as he lowered his gaze. "I didn't want to ruin what we had, but… I kinda did anyway by pretending nothing had changed when everything had."

"It's okay," Yeosang cut in, voice quiet. "You don't have to explain yourself." Wooyoung looked like he might cry again, and Yeosang wasn’t sure he could handle that again. And, if he was being honest, Yeosang was terrified. 

What had changed so drastically that he felt he had to pretend otherwise? Had Yeosang done something without realizing? He tried to comb through their past for any misstep, any fight. They’d barely argued in all their years. Wooyoung must have been holding onto this for a long time.

"No, I have to say this now," Wooyoung insisted, shaking his head. "I know Hojongie made that mind-reader comment, but it goes both ways. If I don’t say it, how will you know?"

When Wooyoung lifted his head, Yeosang blinked at the unexpected resolve in his eyes. Yeosang braced himself, heart thudding. 

Wooyoung’s eyes squeezed shut again. "I’m in love with you," he blurted, the words running together so fast that Yeosang wasn’t sure he’d heard them right.

Yeosang blinked. 

Wooyoung cracked one eye open and, seeing what Yeosang assumed was utter bewilderment on his face, he opened the other.

Silence stretched between them like a held breath.

"I'm in love with you," Wooyoung repeated, almost timidly.

Yeosang’s lips parted, but no words came. He had to have misheard him. 

“Huh?” 

The warm cinnamon of Wooyoung’s scent faltered, thinning in the air before curdling into something damp and cloying. It grew musty at the edges, tinged with sour panic.

“In love?” Yeosang echoed, stunned.

Wooyoung nodded.

"With me?"

Another nod, smaller this time.

Yeosang nodded absently, mind blank. "Oh."

He couldn’t process anything past those first words. Wooyoung was in love with him. 

"I mean, I know it’s out of left field and you might not feel the same way about me, but I just felt like you deserved to know why I’ve been so distant. I didn’t want to make things weird or make you uncomfortable, especially since-" he cut off, hands fidgeting. "I mean, I guess now I am making you uncomfortable. I just… I thought I should… maybe… explain myself?"

Before joy could even touch him, a heavy pressure crashed down on Yeosang’s chest. His heart thudded as his anxiety rose fast, almost suffocating him. He knew how possessive the pack could be, how fiercely protective they were of one another. They had made it very clear from the very beginning that they were not to pursue any relationships outside of the pack. 

"Do the others know?" he asked suddenly, the question escaping before he could think it through.

"The others?" Wooyoung tilted his head, confused for a beat. "Oh! You mean the pack? Yeah, they know."

"And... they’re fine with it?" Yeosang asked, brows furrowing, genuinely bewildered.

"Uh… why wouldn’t they be?" Wooyoung blinked, looking just as confused as Yeosang felt.

"What do you mean, why?" Yeosang shot to his feet. "You guys agreed not to have relationships outside the pack!"

"What do you mean, you guys ? We all did!" Wooyoung said, defensively. "Besides! Up until like a month ago, you were still in the pack! I didn’t do anything wrong!"

"We?" Yeosang ran a hand through his newly dried hair, pacing now. "Wooyoung, I was never part of the ‘we,’" he said, voice tight.

There had always been a quiet divide, one he hadn’t been able to name at the time. From what he’d witnessed, the polycule’s beginnings had been messy. Everything shifted during that first world tour, when they were all still learning to balance their cycles with the demands of their careers. Wooyoung’s body rejected most suppressants, and when his special prescription was lost mid-tour, his heat hit unexpectedly. He’d tried to endure it alone, but Hongjoong couldn’t stand to hear him suffer and stepped in, vowing to deal with the consequences later.

It had come as a shock to all of them when Wooyoung, lucid after the first round, eagerly gave his consent. That one night had changed everything. Though there were no feelings involved, a line had already been crossed. 

Not long after, Mingi had taken advantage of Yunho's rut to confess his feelings. They were the first members of the pack to start a romantic relationship. With a long-time alpha partner,  Mingi chose to come off his suppressants. When an unexpected heat hit him during a particularly bad panic attack in Yunho’s absence, Jongho stepped in with the other alpha’s permission. 

But afterward, Mingi had broken down and admitted it had felt like cheating because he had developed feelings for Jongho, too. It became a messy, pack-wide affair, but it had resulted in their first rule: as long as everyone was okay with it, they could help each other through heats and ruts.

Yeosang had kept quiet. He hadn’t needed help, and no one asked for his. 

As their bonds deepened and feelings shifted, a year later, they made their second rule: no relationships outside the pack. However, since every confession had been so tightly intertwined with their secondary genders and assisting each other through their cycles, Yeosang didn’t find any room to step in. It didn’t matter, though, because he quickly realised the rule didn’t cover him. 

One night, a beta friend of his drunkenly confessed feelings. Yeosang gently turned him down, but the friend scented him anyway in a clumsy attempt to convince him. When Yeosang returned to the dorm, the others only asked how the date went.

It was a gutting realisation but a welcome one. From that moment on, Yeosang stopped waiting.

But then San started to get possessive of the pack. Anytime Yeosang got too close to one of them, whether he was ruffling their hair, cuddling during movie nights, or resting against them in the waiting room, San would squeeze in between them and say something like, “Go touch your boyfriend, Yeosang.”  

It was always said with a laugh, always light enough to pass for a joke. But Yeosang could feel the weight behind it.

After that, Yunho began growling more often, soft, low rumbles that prickled beneath Yeosang’s skin. It started as playful, but over time, it became a warning. And when Jongho echoed it one night, Yeosang realised the others were picking up on it too.

It all went downhill from there.

And now, Wooyoung had confessed to liking him.

Yeosang should have felt elated, but instead, all he felt was dread. They were going to be so upset. San especially. He was so attached to Wooyoung. Would he hate him if he found out? Yeosang didn’t know if he could survive that. He’d seen San angry before. He knew how cold that man could be when he didn’t like someone. If Yeosang ever had to face that empty stare-

"Yeo-Yeosang, look at me."

Wooyoung’s voice cut through the rising static in his mind, yanking him out of his spiral. Only then did Yeosang realize how shallow his breaths had gotten.

"You can’t," he told Wooyoung tightly. "You can’t like me."

"I can and I do and they do not care," Wooyoung said, turning his nose up. 

"Wooyoung," Yeosang tried again, desperate now. "You know how they are."

"Exactly," Wooyoung snapped back, eyes blazing with certainty. "So I know they don’t mind."

"The alphas literally growl at me for looking at you wrong!" Yeosang snapped, voice cracking under the pressure. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but the anxiety was climbing fast and sharp in his chest. He needed Wooyoung to take this seriously. “They’ll- oh God.” 

His breath hitched. A cold twist knotted his stomach, nausea flaring like static. He clutched at his middle, wishing he could will the sick feeling away. His cherry scent began to shift, turning tart and piercing. He took a shaky breath, trying to regain control.

"Huh?" Wooyoung blinked. Then his face shifted, the realization dawning all at once. " Oh. "

Yeosang nodded quickly, chest heaving, grateful and frantic all at once. "Exactly. You can’t."

Wooyoung stared at him like he was seeing him for the first time. Then, without a word, he turned and headed toward the bedroom door.

His stomach twisted so hard he thought he might be sick. Somehow, despite everything, he hadn’t expected Wooyoung to walk away so easily. He should have. He knew better. He’d always known he didn’t stand a chance against the bond Wooyoung shared with the others after all these years. However, knowing and experiencing it were two different things. And right now, his chest felt like it had been cracked wide open.

He should’ve kept his mouth shut. He was already drowning with just Wooyoung’s confession. He could’ve had this one night. One fragile, precious moment where he wasn’t reminding Wooyoung that he wasn’t worth the risk.

He should have kept his mouth shut. He was already in hot water with just Wooyoung’s confession. He should have allowed himself this one night without reminding Wooyoung that he wasn’t worth the risk. 

He had ruined his only chance.

As Wooyoung disappeared into the hall, leaving the door ajar behind him, Yeosang stepped forward on autopilot to close it. But then he belatedly noticed that Wooyoung wasn’t heading to the front door. He was heading for Yunho’s room. 

Yeosang’s heart jumped, then dropped like a stone. 

It was already past 3. While Wooyoung rotated beds almost nightly, if someone was already asleep, he let them be. It was one of the quiet rules he never broke.

“What are you doing?” Yeosang asked, barely above a whisper. Every step Wooyoung took toward that room rang in his ears like a warning bell.

"To wake up Yunho," Wooyoung replied. 

And just like that, Yeosang’s heart sank clean through his body. 

Chapter Text

“Yunho-ya.”

The artificial hall light bleeding into the bedroom had roused Yunho before the voice did. Still, he buried his face deeper into his pillow, willfully squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to ignore the soft sound of approaching footsteps.

“Puppy, wake up,” Wooyoung whispered again, just as the mattress dipped beside him.

Yunho exhaled slowly, not opening his eyes. “Mmm?” he grumbled, the warmth of his breath dampening his pillow. 

Sleep-in mornings were rare and sacred, and Yunho was certain he hadn’t been out for more than an hour. What on earth could’ve possessed Wooyoung to wake him up? Everyone knew Yunho wasn’t a morning person. He tried not to be rude, but the first thirty minutes of consciousness were always a gamble. He needed a good half hour before his brain caught up to his mouth, so he made it a point to say little, not trusting his own tongue until his better nature caught up.

“Hey, Jeong Yunho,” the whispered words were harsh and urgent in the stillness of his bedroom. “I need you to wake up now. Please.”

Yunho cracked one eye open with a quiet groan, glowering at the mattress. His body ached in protest, amplifying the irritation simmering beneath his skin. He turned his head slowly, squinting up at Wooyoung, his annoyance plain on his face. Shadows blurred and shifted until Wooyoung’s silhouette came into focus. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice rough. 

Before Wooyoung could answer, a sour-sweet tang drifted in through the open doorway. Yunho jolted upright, shoving the covers off without a second thought. The scent lacked the acrid bite his alpha associated with warning, but he knew better now. Since learning what it truly meant, he’d vowed never to smell it again. His alpha stirred, sharp and alert beneath the surface.

"What happened?" he hissed, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Whatever was causing Yeosang to be afraid, Yunho would find a way to fix it. 

Wooyoung didn’t answer immediately, his gaze flicking between Yunho and the hallway. Yunho narrowed his eyes, reading the omega’s body language with growing impatience. Wooyoung rocked on his heels, then finally met his gaze, his eyes wide and deliberately innocent.

"What did you do?" Yunho asked, glaring at the obviously guilty omega. 

He had undoubtedly waltzed into a problem and came running to Yunho to have him fix it. A small part of him warmed at the thought, his alpha taking pride in Wooyoung’s faith in him. The larger part, however, grew concerned, wondering if he could handle whatever Wooyoung was about to throw at him.

“I—” Wooyoung faltered, hesitant to admit what he had done. 

Yunho’s concern deepened as he glanced past him into the brightly lit corridor. Yeosang stood just beyond the threshold, tense and unmoving, like a deer caught in headlights. His freshly showered skin was flushed, the pink of his birthmark blooming across his temple. His dark hair was soft and fluffy, slightly tousled like he’d run his fingers through it too many times. However, the cozy effect was ruined by the terrified gaze locked on the shadows of Yunho’s room.

Yunho reacted viscerally, growling as he turned back to Wooyoung. He didn’t have time to coax it out of the omega. "Jung Wooyoung," he warned. 

Wooyoung’s eyes widened in alarm, and he brought a finger to his own lips, shushing him. Yunho’s chest rumbled again as his annoyance grew, but Wooyoung looked genuinely panicked now.

"Shh, stop- don’t growl," Wooyoung hissed, rushing forward to physically silence Yunho. 

Startled by the frantic reaction, Yunho cut off the sound in his throat. Wooyoung glanced nervously over his shoulder at the brightly lit hallway before turning back, his voice still tense. “Just- shh,” he pleaded.

Yunho gave a slow, confused nod, speaking against Wooyoung’s palm. “Why?”

Wooyoung hesitated, then let his hand drop. “I think your growling scares Yeosang,” he said quickly, glancing behind him again as if afraid the nervous omega might overhear. 

Without giving Yunho time to react, he grabbed his hand. “Come on.”

“Wait,” Yunho protested, planting his feet. “What do you mean, scares him?”

“I don’t know,” Wooyoung said, tugging insistently. “I think he’s just… scared, okay? He said you guys growl at him for looking at me wrong, and then he started hyperventilating.”

Yunho’s chest hollowed as a missing puzzle piece clicked into place.

“Just come,” Wooyoung urged again. “The longer we stay here whispering-”

Yunho relented, letting himself be pulled along. The rest didn’t need to be said.

He followed silently, his thoughts unraveling the past with every step. He wanted to deny it, to push the blame elsewhere, but he couldn’t. The truth was unforgiving: Yeosang’s fear, his aversion to touch, his growing distrust of alphas… It all traced back to him. 

He was the cause. 

And now that he thought about it, that subtle shift in Yeosang’s scent had started around the same time.

All because Yunho had liked the way he blushed.

Yunho had thought it a harmless indulgence. His instincts had screamed at him to claim, but he’d always known he had no right. Still, there was something deeply satisfying in watching the unshakable beta falter, in knowing he could affect him. The soft flush on Yeosang’s cheeks, the flicker of submission in his gaze, the way he stumbled over his words. It had become addictive. He took immense pleasure in those moments, convincing himself it was innocent—a way to soothe the gnawing instincts without crossing any lines. 

He had usually maintained his mellow temper and friendly demeanor, even as his instincts urged him to throw Yeosang down and take what wasn’t his to touch. He never said more than he should or hinted at the thoughts behind his gaze.

But after days in the nesting room, especially when his instincts ran hot post-rut, Yunho found himself seeking to fill the emptiness Yeosang’s absence left. He wanted to see him flustered, breathless, overwhelmed, as undone as his lovers had been in the privacy of their nest.

Still, he thought he was being careful. 

But none of those careful calculations meant anything if Yeosang had been an omega all along. Yet, even after the reveal, Yunho hadn’t connected the dots.

Now, though, it all made perfect, devastating sense.

"Wooyoung-ah," Yeosang’s apprehensive voice pulled him from his spiralling thoughts. 

The pheromones rolling off of him were light and tart, almost mouth-watering. Yunho’s stomach rolled uncomfortably as he took in the shorter man. Yeosang’s face was blank, his arms resting neatly at his sides. If Yunho hadn’t known that this particular scent signalled Yeosang’s worst emotions, he would never have noticed the pure anxiety rolling off him.

And Yunho was the reason for it.

How would he ever explain the real reason behind his behaviour without sounding like a leering pervert?

"Are you okay?" Yunho asked, pulling away from Wooyoung and stepping forward.

Yeosang flinched almost imperceptibly, Yunho only catching it because he was watching so closely. He stopped in his tracks, heart tightening painfully. He had to remember: he was the thing Yeosang was afraid of. He turned to Wooyoung, silently pleading with him for help. 

"I confessed," Wooyoung blurted, smiling with exaggerated brightness to mitigate the weight of his words. 

Yunho’s eyes widened, jaw slack as he whipped around to gauge Yeosang’s reaction. The omega tensed, gaze dropping instantly to the floor.

In all fairness, Yunho wasn’t shocked, caught off guard? Absolutely. But surprised? Not really. If anything, it was a miracle Wooyoung had lasted this long without confessing. He’d been smitten with Yeosang for as long as Yunho could remember.

Yunho had noticed it almost immediately after Wooyoung joined KQ, but at the time, it hadn’t mattered. He’d been too focused on debuting for a schoolboy crush to concern him. It had only gained importance when he realised he had fallen for Yeosang as well. 

By then, he was already dating Mingi and casually sleeping with Seonghwa and Wooyoung. It felt like he’d woken up one morning and stopped seeing Yeosang as the sweet, kind, and cute beta he was supposed to look out for. Suddenly, every shy glance made him want to pull him close and never let go. Every coy smile made him ache to capture his mouth in a searing kiss. Every blush made him want to pin him down and make him burn with pleasure.

It had taken everything in Yunho to lock those feelings away and treat Yeosang normally. Wooyoung, however, had never been able to compartmentalize the same way. Yunho had endured countless late-night monologues about how precious Yeosang was, how much Wooyoung adored him, and how, if given the chance, he wouldn’t hesitate.

Apparently, he’d been given that chance. And he’d taken it.

Yunho didn’t know what to say. The others would be upset, but Yunho could not find it in himself to blame the omega. He knew him too well. Wooyoung had tried his best, and Yunho knew he wouldn’t have acted carelessly. 

Noticing Yeosang was still focused on the hardwood beneath their feet, Yunho cleared his throat and spoke.

"Oh. Nice," he said weakly, cringing at how flat it sounded. He had no idea how Yeosang had taken the confession. Considering Wooyoung had come to him for help, he had to assume that it had not gone smoothly. “And… how do you feel about it, Yeosang-ah?” he asked gently, voice low and careful.

Selfishly, Yunho felt a flicker of hope that Yeosang would reject Wooyoung. The thought vanished as quickly as it came, leaving behind a bitter taste and a swell of disgust in his gut. How could he be so jealous? So petty to wish that Wooyoung be denied something beautiful just because he couldn’t have it himself?

Yeosang’s head snapped up, eyes wide and confused. “Huh?”

Yunho looked between the two omegas, one visibly frazzled and the other sheepishly triumphant. Yeosang was clearly shaken by Wooyoung’s confession, but Yunho couldn’t quite pinpoint the source of his fear.

“Are you okay with Wooyoung liking you?” he asked gently, concern threading through his voice. Yeosang had always been extremely careful with people’s feelings. Was he nervous about accepting Wooyoung’s affection? Or was he afraid of rejecting it? Yunho doubted Yeosang was polyamorous. He’d voiced discomfort with their polycule after returning from break. Maybe he felt like Wooyoung’s confession was pulling him into something he didn’t want. Or maybe he was just scared of losing their friendship.

His question only seemed to confuse Yeosang more, though, so he looked to Wooyoung for help. Yunho turned to Wooyoung too, waiting for a clear explanation. 

"He was worried you would be upset," Wooyoung explained. Noticing the lack of comprehension on his face, he clarified, "he said I’m not allowed to date outside of the pack." 

Ah. That explained it. 

Well, Yunho was technically upset, just not for the reason Yeosang was imagining.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, glad to find the crux of their problem. This was an easy fix. He turned to Yeosang, smiling for the first time since he had been woken up. "Don’t worry about that. Wooyoung’s had feelings for you since you were in the pack, so it doesn’t count." 

Yeosang blinked, still processing, and Yunho felt a surge of affection. He was so endearingly literal sometimes. Yunho had half a mind to squish his cheeks and coo at how adorable he was. Of course, Yeosang would get caught up in semantics.

"And… you’re okay with that?" Yeosang asked, looking at him like he had grown a second head. 

Yunho hesitated, glancing at Wooyoung in confusion. What was he missing?

"Uh, why wouldn’t I be?" he replied slowly. Had Yeosang picked up on his jealousy? Did he know?

"Yeah, Yeosang, why?" Wooyoung asked, arms crossed and eyebrows raised pointedly. The question was purely rhetorical because Wooyoung turned to Yunho immediately after and began explaining. "Basically, somewhere along the line, he got the message that he was not part of the pack the same way we were."

Yunho wanted to bang his head against the nearest wall. Every time he thought he’d caught up to the chaos he’d woken up to, something new blindsided him. 

“Not part of the pack in the same way?” he repeated, rubbing his temples. “What does that even mean?” Did it have something to do with Yeosang’s concept of togetherness that the pack was still debating? It was far too early for his brain.

“He thought the pack rule didn’t apply to him,” Wooyoung clarified, voice gentler now.

It took a moment for Yunho to figure out what rule Wooyoung was referring to. They had plenty, ranging from trivial things like ‘Don’t Take Clothes Without Asking’ to more unbreakable things like ‘No Guests in the Nesting Room.’ He nodded slowly in understanding. Yeosang seemed to believe the ‘No Dating Outside the Pack’ did not apply to him. 

In a way, Yeosang was right. They’d never held him accountable when he broke it, instead brushing it under the rug instead of dealing with the pain it had caused. When he started dating other betas, Yunho had been quietly devastated. He’d only just realized he liked Yeosang, and watching him openly date someone else had felt like a punch to the gut. He could not understand how Yeosang could be so brazen. It wasn’t that he wanted Yeosang to be more secretive while doing so, but the disregard had stung.

He hadn’t been the only one. Hongjoong and Seonghwa had tried to explain it away, saying betas often preferred mating with other betas. A biological tendency, they had claimed, just like omegas and alphas gravitating toward each other. 

Of course, the conversation hadn’t gone smoothly. Jongho and Yunho had demanded that they allow Yeosang to speak for himself. San and Mingi had valiantly argued that attraction wasn’t dictated by subgender. They were proof of that.

In the end, the pack had accepted that the exception wasn’t the rule.

And, to Yeosang's credit, he had never explicitly agreed to follow the rule. He’d simply been present when it was established.

“I mean, we definitely let you break it,” Yunho said diffidently, rubbing the back of his neck. His attempted smile twisted into a grimace. “But that doesn’t mean it changed anything for the rest of us,” he added, hoping to reassure him.

Yeosang’s expression soured instantly. “Let me break it?”

Yunho’s heart kicked up in alarm. That wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. “Why? What’s wrong?”

"I didn’t," Yeosang mumbled.

Yunho glanced at Wooyoung, who leaned in, confused. “Didn’t what?”

“I’ve never broken any pack rule,” Yeosang said louder, jaw jutted defiantly. 

"What do you mean you-," Wooyoung stared at him, mirroring the shock on Yunho’s face.

“What about Hyeongseop?” Yunho asked, his pulse thundering in his ears.

"Ew," Yeosang said immediately, scrunching his nose in disgust. "Hyeongseop's my friend."

"Friend?" Wooyoung echoed emptily, looking at Yunho in complete stupefaction. 

Yunho was at an absolute loss. "So, you’ve been single this entire time?" he asked, needing it in as clear terms as possible. He was not about to leave any room for misinterpretation. 

Yeosang flushed deeply but gave a curt nod.

"Fucking hell," Yunho breathed, tugging on his hair to feel something other than the rock in his gut. 

All this time, he’d assumed Yeosang had been seeing other people. Even after learning Yeosang was a virgin, he still believed he’d been dating. Yeosang often went out and came back smelling like other betas, most often Hyeongseop. Their scents had been so intimately mingled that Yunho had assumed… well, everything.

To find out now that Yeosang had remained single all these years because of a rule he thought didn’t include him was gut-wrenching. It hurt more than the idea of him breaking it ever could.

Yunho’s thoughts flew back to that day in their living room, just weeks ago. Yeosang had sat on the edge of the armchair, his body taut and trembling as his eyes darted around nervously. 

He’d said he was lonely. Lonely, even though he was happy that they had each other. 

Yunho hadn’t said much in response. He’d been too focused on holding himself back, afraid that even a flicker of emotion might send Yeosang spiraling again.

And when Yeosang asked for space, Yunho gave it, taking slow and careful steps to mend their broken relationship. But he hadn’t understood the true meaning of Yeosang’s words.

The memory clawed at his chest now, sharp and merciless. He’d been so, so wrong.

He had thought Yeosang’s unease stemmed from watching their tangled, untraditional relationships. He’d assumed it was discomfort, maybe even judgment. But Wooyoung, San, and Hongjoong had been right all along. The answer to their “togetherness” debate now stared him in his face, cruel in its clarity. 

Yeosang’s feelings went beyond friendship. And the pack had unknowingly isolated him by accepting he was their exception. 

"Sang-ah, I-," Yunho’s throat tightened painfully, but thankfully, Wooyoung stepped in. 

He wrapped his arms around Yeosang’s neck, pulling him close in a fierce hug. Yunho could hear the soft stream of apologies spilling from Wooyoung’s lips, muffled against Yeosang’s shoulder. Yeosang blinked, confused, glancing over at Yunho for help.

“Sorry about what?” he asked, his hands coming up to gently pat Wooyoung’s back comfortingly.

"For thinking you broke the rule," Wooyoung sniffled, clinging to him tightly.

"And for making assumptions without clarifying things with you," Yunho added dejectedly. 

Every conversation with Yeosang seemed to peel back another layer of misunderstanding. It highlighted just how terrible their communication had been up until this point. Yunho was trapped in a maze of misunderstandings, only realizing he was lost when he collided with the consequences. Nothing he thought he knew seemed to hold anymore but he didn’t even know where to begin unraveling the mess they found themselves in. 

"Is that why you…," Yeosang trailed off, losing confidence before finishing the full question. 

"Didn’t tell you earlier?" Wooyoung finished gently, pulling back just enough to cradle Yeosang’s face in his hands. 

Yeosang shrugged slightly, lashes lowering as he avoided their eyes.

Yunho’s stomach twisted at the ease with which Wooyoung touched him. He wished Yeosang would allow him to hold him as freely. But at least he now understood why Yeosang did not feel comfortable around him. And Yunho had only himself to blame.

Yunho shifted, the weight of his guilt pressing down like a stone in his chest. Words hovered on the tip of his tongue, desperate pleas that might begin to untangle the damage he’d caused. 

But the moment was already so fragile and he was afraid one wrong word would cause it to shatter. So he swallowed his remorse, choosing silence. For now, he would simply play the part Wooyoung required. He would show Yeosang that the world would not come crashing down if Wooyoung were to love him.

"Sang-ah," Wooyoung murmured, his voice tender as he tilted Yeosang’s chin up with careful fingers. “Forget everything else. Just look at me.”

Yeosang’s eyes flickered to Yunho tentatively before meeting Wooyoung’s gaze. Even from this distance, Yunho could see the vulnerability in his eyes. He exhaled slowly, willing himself to stay calm. He didn’t want his own emotions to cloud the moment. 

“I’m going to give you three seconds,” Wooyoung whispered, voice barely audible, “and then I’m going to kiss you.”

Yunho’s eyebrows nearly shot up, but he caught himself just in time, forcing his expression into neutrality. Yeosang’s eyes widened, darting to Yunho again, checking his reaction. 

Yunho did his best to come off as unassuming, casual even. His heart thundered in his chest as he grew nervous on both of their behalves. 

“One,” Wooyoung murmured, leaning in slowly. Yeosang’s body was tense, but he didn’t pull away. Yunho felt a flicker of hope.

"Two," Wooyoung bridged the gap, closing the space between them carefully. From Yunho’s vantage point, they looked as though they had already connected. 

Only the final word held them apart. 

"Three."

Chapter Text

“I’m going to give you three seconds and then I’m going to kiss you.”

Yeosang’s heart nearly stopped. He froze, his chin cradled between Wooyoung’s fingertips, held captive by the intensity of Wooyoung’s gaze. There was barely a difference between their heights, yet at this moment, Wooyoung felt larger than life. Yeosang’s heart pounded violently against his ribs, each beat sharp and aching. He didn’t know how to respond. He knew what he wanted: to throw himself at Wooyoung and kiss him until the world blurred and breath became irrelevant. Yeosang just wasn’t sure that’s what he should do.

"One," Wooyoung began the countdown, his voice steady.

Yeosang stared at him, as if seeing Wooyoung for the first time. Wooyoung was a study in contradictions, and his features were no less different. Dark waves framed his face, lashes casting shadows over mismatched, mischievous eyes. There was a sharpness tucked behind the boyish charm, a quiet intensity that made Yeosang want to squirm. He wondered if Wooyoung would really follow through with the kiss or if this was just another game he’d lose himself in.

“Two,” Wooyoung murmured, leaning in.

Yeosang’s pulse spiked. If he let this happen, he was about to cross a line he’d never even dared approach. Wooyoung’s face was so close now, their lips a breath apart, counting down to what might be Yeosang’s first kiss. It still blew his mind how impossibly stunning Wooyoung was. His gaze was helplessly drawn to Wooyoung’s mouth, full and plush, making silent promises he ached to believe. When his eyes darted back up, he was surprised to find Wooyoung’s gaze locked on his own mouth, hot and unwavering.

“Three,” Wooyoung whispered, their noses brushing.

Yeosang hadn’t known what choice he would make until it was already made. He squeezed his eyes shut, overwhelmed by the moment, but didn’t pull away. Wooyoung’s breath ghosted across his skin, warm and electric.

Then, at the last second, Wooyoung turned his head.

Yeosang’s eyes flew open as warm lips brushed his cheek, dangerously close yet still not enough. Disappointment flickered, sharp and immediate, but before it could settle, Wooyoung smirked and leaned in again. Yeosang gasped softly, a jolt of pleasure shooting through him as Wooyoung finally kissed him. 

Yeosang had always imagined Wooyoung’s kisses would be as fiery and animated as he was, but when their lips met, he was caught off guard by the softness. Wooyoung kissed him slowly, soft lips coaxing him, inviting Yeosang to respond without pressure. Yeosang hesitated, awkward at first, before finally pressing back in a shy, clumsy mimicry. He didn’t quite know what to do, but Wooyoung tilted his chin, guiding him closer, as his other hand slipped around Yeosang’s waist.

The warmth of Wooyoung’s mouth was intoxicating, sweet, and inviting. His cinnamon scent enveloped Yeosang in the softest embrace, warming his chest until tears pricked at his eyes. When Wooyoung finally pulled back, Yeosang unconsciously leaned after him, chasing the warmth with a quiet desperation. Wooyoung's brows lifted in surprise, but then he smiled and closed the space again, peppering Yeosang’s face with soft, affectionate pecks until Yeosang shyly pulled away.

For a moment, everything felt perfect.

But then the air shifted. Yeosang had nearly forgotten Yunho’s presence until his scent grew stronger. 

The crispness of freshly cut grass was still there, but something heavier and unfamiliar now lurked beneath it. Yeosang peeked at him, curious. He knew Yunho wouldn’t be angry, not after everything they’d said. But his expression was… odd. 

Yunho’s jaw was tight, lips pressed into a line that looked too deliberate to be neutral. Composed but not calm. His eyes had darkened, and the tips of his ears were flushed red. It reminded Yeosang of the times when Yunho returned from the other dorms, smelling strongly of another pack member. His gaze flicked between Yeosang and Wooyoung, lingering just a beat too long. For a fleeting, reckless moment, Yeosang wished Yunho would get jealous, not of him, but of Wooyoung. He wanted Yunho to want him too.

The thought startled him, and he shoved it down quickly, scolding himself for his greed. Wooyoung liked him back. That was enough. It had to be.

Catching Yeosang’s gaze, Yunho quickly cleared his throat and straightened, his posture stiff before easing into something more casual. “Well… I’m gonna head back to bed,” he said, gesturing toward his room with a vague flick of his hand. The movement came off stiff, almost self-conscious.

"Already?" Wooyoung asked, stepping back from Yeosang. The warmth between them dissipated, and Yeosang suddenly felt the draft in the room, cool air brushing against his skin. He hesitated, resisting the urge to move closer to Wooyoung, afraid it would come off as clingy.

"It’s still really early," Yunho nodded. "You guys should get some rest, too." 

Yeosang swallowed nervously at the idea. Would tonight still mean something when the sun rose? Would the other pack members react as casually as Yunho had? He tried to tuck the thought away, not wanting it to spoil the moment.

“Okay. Goodnight,” Wooyoung said, his tone softening. “Thanks,” he added, almost shyly.

Yunho smiled, crossing the hall with slow, deliberate steps. He loomed briefly over Wooyoung, who tilted his head up in quiet expectation. Yunho leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. When Yunho turned to Yeosang, though, his confidence faltered. He gave a small, almost sheepish wave.

"Night."

"Goodnight," Yeosang replied, just as softly. 

As Yunho disappeared into his room, Wooyoung slipped his arm through Yeosang’s and leaned into him, watching the door close with a soft chuckle. “He’s so awkward,” he whispered.

Yeosang let himself smile, though the weight of tomorrow lingered incessantly at the back of his mind. For now, though, he clung to the warmth at his side. 

********************

Yeosang awoke feeling more rested than he had in years. The lingering warmth of cinnamon in the air coaxed a hum of contentment from his omega, wrapping around him like a familiar embrace. Sleep had been a battle for so long that exhaustion had become his regular. He’d expected last night to be no different. If anything, he’d prepared for it to be worse. Sharing a bed with Wooyoung after that kiss had left him nervous, unsure how to act. But Wooyoung had acted like nothing had changed. He’d curled up under the sheets, pulled Yeosang close, and stroked his hair until sleep took him. 

Yeosang smiled to himself, lips tingling with the ghost of last night’s kiss. It still felt surreal. The idea that Wooyoung returned his feelings, that the love he’d buried for so long wasn’t one-sided, was almost too much to grasp. For ten years, he’d worn the label of “best friend” like a shackle, not realizing it was one he’d fastened himself. But now, the chains had fallen away. Wooyoung was his again. Yeosang would no longer linger on the sidelines, watching Wooyoung pour his affection into six other men while pretending it didn’t sting. That knowledge settled in his chest like a quiet triumph, warm and steady.

Yeosang smiled to himself, his lips tingling with phantom pressure as he recalled last night. It felt surreal. He couldn’t believe that Wooyoung shared his romantic feelings. After ten years of being chained by the friendship label, Yeosang had found it to have been chains of his own making. He now had his best friend back; he would no longer be stuck on the sidelines as Wooyoung showered his love and affection on his other six boyfriends. That knowledge sat like a quiet victory in his chest.

He rolled over, expecting to see Wooyoung still beside him, but was met with an empty bed.

He sat up, the sheets pooling around his waist, and glanced around the room. A flicker of disappointment passed through him. He considered going out to look for Wooyoung but decided to wash up first. At least that way, he wouldn’t seem like an abandoned puppy.

As he brushed his teeth, he wondered what he would say. Wooyoung had confessed last night, but Yeosang hadn’t said a word in return, too stunned to untangle the knot in his chest. Even after the kiss, he hadn’t been able to verbalise his feelings. And, if he was being honest, Yeosang wasn’t sure he was ready to say anything yet. The thought of voicing it aloud terrified him, even though he knew there was no reason to be.

Deciding to just go with the flow, Yeosang braced himself and exited his room. 

The moment the door opened, the scent of the whole pack enveloped him, heady and familiar. The layered blend was almost dizzying, filling his lungs until his throat tightened. His chest constricted as well, and Yeosang wasn’t sure if the feeling was comfort or anxiety anymore.

He peeked into the hall, catching a glimpse of the living room where layered voices blended together, indistinguishable. His stomach knotted. Were they talking about him? About the kiss? 

"Oh, Yeosang-ah." 

He nearly jumped, turning to find Seonghwa behind him. "I was just coming to get you," the elder said warmly.

“Oh, it’s you,” he breathed, only then realizing the tightness in his chest from holding his breath.

“Just me,” Seonghwa repeated, glancing curiously toward the living room. 

Yeosang shut the door behind him and stepped closer to the omega. Seonghwa’s presence had always steadied him. He was an anchor in the storm, even in the elder’s more animated moments. The urge to cling to him rose sharp and sudden, to let Seonghwa lead him through whatever waited beyond the hallway. But he only nodded, masking the nerves bubbling under his skin.

Seonghwa took his hand and tugged him in the opposite direction. “Come, I warmed up breakfast.”

Yeosang followed easily despite his lack of hunger, eager for any excuse to delay the inevitable. The dishes on the table were still steaming, the scent of kimchi stew rich and comforting. Seonghwa pulled out a chair and gestured for him to sit. Seonghwa pulled out a chair with a small gesture, and Yeosang sank into it.

“Thanks, hyung,” Yeosang murmured, settling in.

When Seonghwa reached out to ruffle his hair, Yeosang ducked just out of reach. Seonghwa pouted, casting a playful side-eye as he sat beside him. Yeosang pretended not to notice, guilt prickling at the edges of his composure. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Seonghwa’s touch—he craved it, more than he’d admit. But the head pat felt infantilizing, a reminder that in Seonghwa’s eyes, he hadn’t changed. To the elder, he would always be the same boy he’d met nearly a decade ago.

If things were different between them, Yeosang wouldn’t mind the coddling. As it was, this was the only way he knew to push back without being obvious. 

“Eat,” Seonghwa said softly, resting his chin in his palm as he watched him.

The faint tightness in his expression didn’t escape Yeosang. Not wanting to disappoint him further, he obediently picked up his spoon and took a bite of the stew, letting the heat and spice ground him in the moment.

"Mmm… did Sannie make this?" Yeosang asked, trying to focus on anything other than the gnawing uncertainty. 

Though the Alphas had all taken classes together, their cooking styles had diverged over the years. The flavors bore San’s unmistakable touch.

"Yeah," Seonghwa replied, reaching out suddenly to catch Yeosang’s chin. Yeosang stilled, letting him wipe the corner of his mouth. As expected, the tension in Seonghwa’s face melted away, replaced by a soft smile.

 “Always so messy," he teased, licking the sauce from his skin. Yeosang quickly looked away, heat blooming in his cheeks. It was such a small thing, but it felt like too much, exposing the ache he was trying so hard to hide.

“Why is everyone here?” he asked, keeping his tone light. The pack didn’t usually gather like this, and the timing… It did not sit too well with him. 

"Hongjoong called a pack meeting," Seonghwa replied, filling his glass with water. 

Yeosang’s eyes widened, and he turned to Seonghwa in shock, panic creeping into his expression. Noticing it instantly, Seonghwa patted his thigh in reassurance. “It’s fine. It’s not a big deal. Joongie just wants to talk.”

“Is he mad?” Yeosang asked quietly, his appetite fading, leaving only a hollow, twisting fear. He hated how small his voice sounded and, without thinking, he reached for Seonghwa’s bond for reassurance. His panic surged when he came up empty, the absence hitting like a sudden drop. He felt unmoored, adrift without the anchor he had grown reliant on. 

Yeosang set his chopsticks down delicately and turned to Seonghwa, helpless.

“What? No, of course not!” Seonghwa turned too, grabbing Yeosang’s chair and tugging. Yeosang couldn’t help the small, amused smile that tugged at his lips as Seonghwa huffed, abandoning the attempt. Instead, he adjusted his own seat, manoeuvring until Yeosang’s legs were caught neatly between his. “You trust hyung, right?”

Yeosang nodded instinctively. Maybe it was because Seonghwa had always been the most consistent, the one constant in his ever-shifting world. 

When Yeosang had distanced himself due to the alphas’ possessiveness toward the pack omegas, the others had followed suit, mirroring his withdrawal. Only Seonghwa had remained unchanged. He hadn’t pressed, but he hadn’t let go either.

Sometimes, Yeosang wished he would push just a little more, would demand something from him that might force him to speak up, but Seonghwa never did. Instead, he lingered quietly on the edges, steady and unyielding, always there if Yeosang reached for him. For so long, that presence had been his only refuge.

There had been countless moments when Yeosang had sought him out without ever admitting it. Sometimes he reached for the bond, other times he simply sat within Seonghwa’s vicinity, feigning nonchalance. There was something in Seonghwa's unwavering presence that grounded him in a way nothing else could. It was a quiet kind of solace he had yet to find elsewhere.

“Then I promise everything is fine,” Seonghwa said gently, taking Yeosang’s hand in his own. “The others are happy for you and Wooyoung.”

Yeosang tried to take comfort in Seonghwa’s words, but his stomach still churned nervously. He nodded anyway, hoping the motion might convince his body as much as anyone else. Seonghwa only smiled and patted his thigh encouragingly before leaning back. 

"Are you done?" he asked, nodding toward the food. 

Yeosang glanced at the barely touched food. The thought of swallowing another bite made his throat tighten. He gave a slight nod.

“Okay, come on then.” Seonghwa rose, holding out his hand expectantly. “Let’s get this over with.”

Yeosang blinked at it, puzzled. Not wanting to leave him hanging, he slipped his hand into Seonghwa’s gingerly as he stood. “Where are we going?”

"Huh?" Seonghwa matched his confused expression. 

Yeosang tugged slightly on their joint hands in response. 

“To the living room?” Seonghwa said at last, his tone lilting upward as if he wasn’t entirely sure himself.

Yeosang peeked down the hall, then leaned closer. “It’s a pack meeting,” he whispered, gently pulling his hand free. Perhaps Seonghwa had forgotten the rules, but “no outsiders are allowed,” he reminded him. 

Understanding flickered across Seonghwa’s face before he sighed, snatching Yeosang’s hand again. "Pack plus you meeting," he remedied, giving Yeosang’s hand a small tug. 

This time, Yeosang followed, though a bit reluctant. If it wasn’t about Wooyoung’s confession but still included him, then the subject had to be him regardless. 

The living room was already full when they entered. The sight made Yeosang falter, memories pulling him back to the day he’d returned after the bond break. Much like before, the pack had all piled up on the sectional with little regard for personal space. He looked around carefully, trying to gauge the atmosphere. Snacks were scattered across the coffee table, and soft music floated from the smart speaker Yunho had bought months ago. 

Jongho was perched on the edge, close enough in proximity but clearly avoiding contact again. Across from him, Hongjoong sat in an armchair with Mingi at his feet, the omega’s head resting against his knee. Hongjoong’s hand absently rubbed Mingi’s shoulder in soothing strokes as he chatted with Wooyoung across the room. The sight unsettled Yeosang. Mingi only sat at his feet when he was deeply anxious.

The mingled scents of cinnamon, rain, cherries, coffee, and more washed over him. Everyone but Seonghwa seemed tense and on edge. He nervously tightened his hold on Seonghwa’s hand, only noticing when Seonghwa returned the pressure. With Wooyoung pinned between San and Yunho in the middle of the couch, Yeosang trailed Seonghwa like a freshly imprinted duckling. 

All eyes followed them as they crossed the room. Seonghwa lowered himself into the armchair without letting go, leaving Yeosang hovering uncertainly at his side. Just as his nerves started to spike, Seonghwa tugged his hand lightly, drawing his attention. He patted his thigh in invitation. Yeosang took it thoughtlessly, chasing the comfort Seonghwa easily offered. 

Yeosang caught the surprised look on San’s face before he could settle and was snapped back to his senses. Yeosang’s cheeks burned as he made to stand, but Seonghwa's arm quickly encircled his waist, tugging him back down.

"Stay with me?" Seonghwa asked, breath brushing against his ear warmly. The whisper sent his heart stumbling faster, making him even more frantic to get away. "Please?" 

The soft plea made him pause, and he turned to look at the older man. Seonghwa had resorted to pouting again, looking adorably pitiful with his large brown eyes and jutted lip. His resolve crumbled, and he gave in, perched carefully on Seonghwa’s thighs. Seonghwa grinned, victorious, and pulled him closer with a squeeze around the waist.

Yeosang glanced around, taking in the reactions of the alphas. Yunho was pointedly looking away, his gaze stubbornly fixed on the far wall. Jongho looked faintly amused, his mouth curved in the barest suggestion of a smile.  San had a faint pout on his lips, his head resting on Wooyoung’s shoulder as he eyed the two of them with open displeasure. But when Yeosang’s eyes met Hongjoong’s, the elder only offered him a gentle, reassuring smile.

"Alright, perfect. Now that everyone is here, the meeting is officially in session," the Alpha announced, clapping his hands once. The already silent room grew quieter as everyone straightened in their seats.

"First things first," Hongjoong said, his gaze flicking toward Yeosang. "I believe congratulations are in order?" His voice tilted upward in question.

Heat prickled along Yeosang’s neck. He shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond when he hadn’t even confessed to Wooyoung yet. His eyes flicked to Wooyoung, who nodded without hesitation. Yeosang lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. 

Hongjoong raised a brow at their wordless exchange, then gave a small shrug of his own, letting the matter drop. "Alright, then. You two can sort that out outside of company time," he joked.

Yeosang blinked, caught off guard by how easily the moment passed. The tension in his chest loosened by degrees, and he found himself settling a little easier into Seonghwa’s arms despite his racing thoughts. 

Was it really this easy?

For years, he’d twisted himself into knots, biting his tongue, swallowing his feelings, terrified that speaking up would shatter the fragile peace he’d managed to cling to. The pack had always been so possessive with each other, clinging tight, hoarding affection like it was a limited resource. He'd been left to orbit, present but never truly a part of them.

And now… this?

The casual acceptance felt like a cruel joke. After everything, was it really just that simple? The relief was there, undeniable, but beneath it simmered a quiet, disgruntled ache at how suddenly the door had opened after years of being kept firmly shut.

"Secondly, Yunho wanted to bring something to the pack’s attention," Hongjoong continued, shifting the focus to the tall Alpha.

Yunho cleared his throat, offering a weak smile. "I mean, there’s a couple of things I wanted to talk about… I think we can all agree that we’ve done a pretty terrible job of communicating and relying on assumptions, so I want to clear the air with all of us here."

Yeosang glanced around, curious. Aside from Hongjoong, the others looked just as confused as he felt. Then Yunho turned his gaze directly to him, eyes intense and unwavering. "Sang-ah, I’m really sorry. For everything. I shouldn’t have assumed you broke the pack rule and I should—" 

"What pack rule?" Jongho interrupted.

Yeosang wanted to sink into the floor. Heat rushed to his ears, his skin prickling with humiliation. Last night’s confession clearly hadn’t left Yunho’s mind. And while he appreciated the effort to set things straight, the mortification was unbearable. The pack already kept him at arm’s length, and now they’d think no one wanted him at all. He’d been too affronted to care last night, but now, he wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

"The dating ban," Yunho clarified, still not breaking eye contact. Yeosang looked away, eyes dropping to the hands still resting securely around his waist.

"Wait, you weren’t dating anyone?" Mingi asked, lifting his head from Hongjoong’s knee. "This whole time?" 

Yeosang’s face burned with a strange mix of shame and vindication. Seonghwa’s grip around his waist tightened, his citrusy scent blooming stronger in an attempt to soothe him.

"Yeah, he said so last night," Wooyoung interjected.

"I’m sorry too, Yesang-ah," Hongjoong added softly. 

Yeosang peeked at him from behind his hair, catching the Alpha's regretful expression. "I should have brought it up with you instead of brushing it under the rug," the Alpha admitted, shoulders sinking with defeat. "Honestly, it’s all my fault."

Yeosang shook his head quickly. "It’s fine," he tried to soothe.

"Don’t just say it’s fine when it’s clearly not," Jongho snapped tightly. “It’s not fine.”

"Jongho’s right," San agreed with a firm nod. "I know you’re trying to smooth things over, but it’s important to us that you’re honest about how you feel. It’s hard to know how to act when you keep saying everything is okay."

Yeosang shifted uneasily, the pressure building around him until it felt suffocating. He could feel their eyes on him now, heavy with expectation. 

“That’s not fair,” Mingi said, seeming to pick up on Yeosang’s discomfort. The omega was frowning as he looked around the room. "That’s a lot to put on Sangie."

Yeosang sank back against Seonghwa’s chest, soaking up the elder's warmth even as it barely blunted the sense of exposure prickling along his skin. He knew they wanted him to speak up and bare himself under their scrutiny, but the weight of their attention pressed down until words refused to form. His gaze flitted helplessly from one face to another before it landed on Wooyoung.

Wooyoung’s expression softened the moment their eyes met, and then he spoke, pulling the room’s focus away from Yeosang.

"Look," Wooyoung began, his voice gentler than usual, "I’ll be the first to admit I’ve been selfish and maybe a teeny bit impulsive.” His words earned a soft chuckle that served to diffuse some of the growing tension. “But I also think we’ve been focusing too much on Yeosang’s subgender because it’s easier than having more difficult conversations about how we’ve been treating him." 

Wooyoung’s words lingered in the air, thick with a tension that seeped into every corner of the room. Seonghwa shifted beneath Yeosang, his scent tinged with unease, mirroring the stunned silence around them. Yeosang’s heart pounded in his chest. He hadn’t expected Wooyoung to articulate his thoughts, especially since Wooyoung hadn’t seemed aware of the issue the last time they spoke. 

The silence stretched, and Yeosang braced himself. No one refuted Wooyoung’s words. And while being seen should have brought comfort, it only deepened the ache in his chest.

“It’s fine,” Yeosang said quickly, brushing it off as the tension in the room thickened around him. But the words had barely left his mouth when Jongho’s earlier warning echoed in his mind.

Jongho’s eyes narrowed. A low growl rumbled from his throat, sharp with frustration. Yeosang flinched imperceptibly at the sound, a shiver of fear running down his spine. He clenched his fists, digging crescents into his palms in a desperate effort to stop the trembling. Wooyoung leaned across San and delivered a sharp slap to Jongho’s thigh as Seonghwa’s arms tightened protectively around Yeosang, 

"Jongho," Seonghwa warned, voice low and firm. 

Jongho stopped immediately, looking confused at the reprimand. Before he could ask, Yunho slumped back in his seat with a weary sigh, pressing his fingers to his temples. "That’s the other thing," he muttered, voice wary.

The words barely registered. Yeosang’s focus was locked inward, on the frantic beat of his heart and the effort it took to steady his shaking limbs. Shame burned hot in his chest. He hated the intensity of his reaction, especially when Jongho’s growl had barely registered as threatening. 

"Yeosang, honey,” Seonghwa whispered, voice laced with concern. He waited until Yeosang met his gaze before continuing gently, “Did Jongho scare you?”

Yeosang hesitated, the instinct to deny it rising fast. He didn’t want to make things worse, but under Seonghwa’s earnest stare, he found it impossible to lie. He gave a small, ashamed nod. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, cheeks burning. Seonghwa hugged him tighter as a ripple of shock moved through the room. 

“No, no, no, baby,” Hongjoong shook his head firmly. “Don’t apologise for that.” 

Seonghwa linked their hands together, his thumb traced slow, soothing circles over Yeosang’s wrist.

"Did you get scared every time we growled?" San asked, his voice gentler than Yeosang had ever heard it. There was a tentative hope in it as he asked, "Or is this just… since we haven’t been bonded?"

Yeosang hesitated, the weight of the room pressing down on him. Guilt and regret radiated from his former packmates, thick and suffocating. 

Yunho let out another long, heavy sigh and buried his face in his hands.

“Is that why you stopped scenting us?” Mingi asked quietly, his expression darkening.

Yeosang bit his lip, torn between the urge to comfort and the fear of saying too much. He chose silence, not wanting to hurt them the way he’d unintentionally hurt Wooyoung the night before.

Yunho stood and crossed the room, kneeling in front of Yeosang with a pained look. He placed a gentle hand on Yeosang’s knee. “I’m so, so sorry, Yeosang-ah. Last night, when Wooyoung mentioned that the growling scared you… I should have known better.”

“Oh, um…” Yeosang glanced at Wooyoung, surprised he’d picked up on his fear from such a passing comment. “It’s fi—” The word nearly slipped out, but he caught himself, casting a wary glance at Jongho.

“No, it’s not,” Yunho said firmly. “It was a crappy thing to do. Even if I thought it wouldn’t affect you much because you were a beta, I should’ve been more considerate. I—” his voice faltered, thick with regret. “I never wanted to make you feel unsafe. None of us did.”

Yeosang let out a small, strained chuckle, trying to ease the tension. “It’s okay,” he murmured, squeezing Yunho’s hand in reassurance. “I shouldn’t be scared of something like that anyway.”

“It’s completely natural,” Jongho said firmly. “Especially with our bonds so frayed. You didn’t have a reason to trust we weren’t being hostile.”

Seonghwa pressed a soft kiss to Yeosang’s temple. “And you never have to apologize for your feelings,” he whispered. “We should’ve noticed sooner. Especially since you had such a visceral reaction.”

Yeosang shook his head. Seonghwa had only noticed because he was seated on his lap. Normally, he was careful, but the elder had slipped past his defenses easily today. He’d learned long ago how to mute his reactions so that they weren’t observable. Guilt twisted in his gut as he watched them shoulder the blame for something he felt he’d set in motion. If he’d just been honest about his scent profile from the beginning, maybe things would’ve unfolded differently. 

Maybe they wouldn’t be here now, picking through the wreckage of misunderstandings.

Chapter Text

San’s heart pounded as he took in the sight of Yeosang lying beneath him, flushed and glistening with sweat. Yeosang’s brows were drawn tight, eyes squeezed shut, every muscle taut with effort as he struggled to maintain his pace. His chest rose and fell as his breath came out in ragged bursts as he fought to finish his final set. The sight was breathtaking, and San had to drag his focus back with force. He couldn’t afford to lose control now, not with Yeosang on the edge of his limit.

“Come on, just one more,” San urged encouragingly. His hands hovered inches below the bar, ready to catch it at the slightest sign of failure.

Yeosang let out a soft, broken whine that shot straight through San’s composure. It was a plea for relief, yet San was torn between the aching desire to grant it and the selfish need to prolong this closeness. He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, grounding himself in pain as he watched Yeosang push through, arms shaking violently as he forced the bar upward.

For a heartbeat, San thought he’d have to intervene, muscles tensing in anticipation. But Yeosang finished the set successfully, the bar touching San’s waiting hands in a silent request for help. San caught it and racked it quickly, the clang of metal echoing through the empty gym.

Yeosang collapsed back against the bench with a victorious glint in his eyes, chest heaving, and a grin tugging at his lips. San couldn’t help but return it, reaching for the water bottle Yeosang had set down earlier.

"I told you you could do it," he praised enthusiastically as he handed it over.

Yeosang sat up slowly, a wide, unguarded smile breaking across his face as he pushed damp strands of hair from his eyes. The sight tugged at something deep in San’s chest. It had been so long since he’d seen a smile like that grace Yeosang’s face.

“I wasn’t sure, it’s been so long,” Yeosang admitted, breath still uneven. “My arms are shaking,” he added with a soft laugh, the tremble made obvious as he lifted the bottle to his mouth.

San ran his hands over Yeosang’s shoulders and down his arms, gently kneading the muscles that were likely already sore. He kept his touch careful, reverent almost, as he reigned in the desire to push further. He had invited Yeosang to work out after giving him space for a few days, time Yeosang had spent with Wooyoung to sort through whatever still lingered between them after the kiss. San hadn’t expected the sharp sting of jealousy that simmered over those days. He couldn’t recall feeling this way when the rest of the polycule had come together, but this time, his gut burned as he watched the others bond with the omega in ways that seemed to leave no space for him.

San had always thought his relationship with Yeosang was pretty solid. Unlike the others who had been smitten with the omega from almost first sight, San had felt pretty neutral. They didn’t seem to have much in common, and while Yeosang was nice and cute, there hadn’t been much else to latch onto. So he’d thrown himself into bonding with the louder, more excitable members of the group, where things felt easier.

As time passed and he learned to look beyond those first impressions, San found himself falling fast and hard for Yeosang. Their closeness grew naturally with time, and by the moment they decided to become a pack, San was already hopelessly smitten.

So now, as he watched Wooyoung, the one whose love language mirrored his own, constantly hug, kiss, and dote on Yeosang in all the ways he longed to with every fibre of his being, San found it unbearably difficult. Even the other omegas seemed to be making progress alongside him! 

San hated it. 

He hated the way jealousy churned in his stomach when Seonghwa slipped an arm around Yeosang’s waist and drew him close without a second thought. He hated how easily Mingi could pull Yeosang into a crushing hug whenever excitement overtook him. 

But most of all, he hated the cautious way Yeosang always glanced at him afterward. 

San knew he had never been good at hiding his emotions. There were already countless fan compilations of him staring at his pack, sometimes with tenderness and sometimes with a simmering heat. And every time Yeosang looked at him, San knew he could see the jealousy etched plainly across his face.

He squeezed Yeosang’s shoulders again, a little tighter this time. The touch grounded him, anchoring him as his thoughts began to spiral. Yeosang glanced back at him, a slight furrow forming between his brows.

"I'm good, thanks," Yeosang said, rolling his shoulders to shake off the lingering tension. "Do you want to do your set?"

"I'm done for the day," San replied, letting his hands fall away. "I did arms and back yesterday. You ready to hit the showers?"

Yeosang nodded, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. San could tell he was genuinely happy to be working out again. He knew how much Yeosang enjoyed the gym, the rush of pushing his limits, and the satisfaction of feeling his muscles grow stronger. It was something they shared, and something San had fallen back on in a bid to close the growing gap between them. 

They walked to the communal showers together, stripping off their clothes with practiced ease before stepping into separate stalls. The partitions only reached a third of the way up, offering enough privacy to shield their bodies but still allowing them to see each other’s faces. The sound of rushing water filled the space, a steady hum that drowned out the silence between them.

San fumbled with his shampoo bottle, the slick plastic slipping from his fingers and clattering loudly to the floor. He cursed under his breath as it rolled away, reaching for it only to kick it further across the tiles. Frustration bubbled up, and he let out a low growl, the sound echoing off the shower walls louder than he intended.

He glanced over his shoulder, worried. Yeosang stood frozen under the spray, suds clinging to his hands and hair. For a moment, he didn’t move. Then, as if nothing had happened, he resumed scrubbing his scalp with quiet focus.

San retrieved the bottle and returned to his spot, the tension in his chest lingering. As the water poured over him, his mind drifted back to yesterday’s conversation.

******

San carefully studied Yeosang’s uneasy expression, watching the way his eyes flicked nervously around the room. He no longer sat comfortably on Seonghwa’s thighs; instead, he looked sheepishly mortified as Seonghwa tried to reassure him that his fear was natural. It was obvious he wanted to shrug off the attention and minimize it, but much like San, the others weren’t willing to let it go.

“It was natural for you guys to react that way too, though,” Yeosang said quietly, his voice steadier than he looked. He finally looked up, meeting their gazes one by one. “It’s not your fault either.”

San winced, curling in on himself as the shame settled in his gut. There had been nothing natural about the growling. It had been pure indulgence. He’d grown addicted to Yeosang’s reactions, craving the way his voice faltered and his gaze dropped in submission. That desire hadn’t faded, but now, San would sooner sever his own arm than frighten him again. He wanted Yeosang flustered, not afraid. 

Straightening in his seat, he opened his mouth to confess, but Yunho beat him to it.

“It wasn’t instinctual or anything,” Yunho admitted, his head ducked in shame. “It was more that…” His words trailed off, mortification silencing him. San grimaced in understanding and shifted to the edge of his chair.

“It’s stupid, but we just thought you looked cute,” San’s confession tumbled out first. Yeosang’s expression shifted into utter confusion, and San wanted to sink into the sofa.

“Cute?” Yeosang echoed, lost.

San shrank back, unconsciously leaning into Jongho’s side. The younger Alpha’s scent had soured, the burned scent echoing San’s own shame.

Hongjoong’s fingers tightened on Mingi’s shoulder as if to ground himself. “We didn’t realise your reaction was fear,” he cut in. “Like Sannie said, you’re adorable when you’re flustered, but I swear if we’d known you were scared, we never would’ve continued.”

“But now that we know your scent profile better,” Jongho added earnestly,“we won’t ever make that mistake again. I promise.”

Yeosang managed to stiffen further. “My s-scent profile?” he asked warily. 

San’s eyes widened at the sheepish look that crossed Yeosang’s face. Yeosang had known they’d misread him all along. He’d hidden his reactions on purpose. Why? What had he gained from that? San had thought they had lost it along the way, but perhaps they had never had his trust to begin with. 

The realisation hollowed him out. His chest ached with the weight of it, and his thoughts spiraled as Hongjoong straightened, spine stiff as iron.

“You knew we didn’t know?” Hongjoong’s voice cut sharp, his anger palpable as his scent curdled. It twisted bitterly at the edges, like wood scorched and left to smolder. San tensed, unused to the harshness. Hongjoong had always maintained an almost preternatural control over his pheromones, but now the acrid scent bled into the room, heavy and inescapable.

Yeosang’s eyes went wide, his words tumbling out in a panicked rush.“I mean— it’s just that— I know it’s different than normal,” Yeosang stammered weakly, his shoulders curled in and his fingers clamping tighter around Seonghwa’s arms as knuckles turned white. 

“Kang Yeosang.” Hongjoong’s tone was so severe that even San’s alpha bristled uneasily. Hongjoong rarely lost his temper, but he never tolerated them harming themselves or each other. 

Yeosang shrank back into Seonghwa’s arms, gripping them tighter around his waist as if they could shield him from Hongjoong’s anger. His cherry scent twisted sharp and tangy, and instinctively, he lifted a hand to cover his scent gland.

“Hyung,” Mingi whimpered softly, his wide eyes lifting to Hongjoong as his calming pheromones bled into the charged air. The Alpha’s gaze lingered between the two omegas, unreadable for a long moment. Then, slowly, the rigid line of his shoulders softened.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to scare you.” The words were meant for Yeosang, but Hongjoong’s hands found Mingi’s hair, fingers threading through the strands with quiet remorse.

The couch shifted as Jongho moved suddenly, pushing to his feet. He walked across the room in long, tense strides. Yeosang’s gaze snapped up to him, guilt etched across his face as though he’d done something wrong, his palm still pressed to the side of his neck. Jongho faltered, a flash of sorrow pulsing through their bond, but steeled himself and stepped forward.

Without hesitation, Jongho reached down and pulled Yeosang from Seonghwa’s lap. Yeosang’s mouth opened in silent shock as Jongho lifted him easily, hoisting him from beneath his arms.

“Jong—” San half-rose, worried that Yeosang would react poorly. But instead, the omega instinctively wrapped his arms around Jongho’s neck, clinging for balance. A startled protest slipped out anyway, catching in his throat.

“Jongho-ya,” Yeosang gasped, his voice trembling. “What’re—”

"I just want to," Jongho grumbled as he carried the stunned omega back to the sectional.

San sank cautiously back into his seat while Seonghwa let out a low laugh, shaking his head at the maknae’s boldness. Jongho sat down with quiet triumph, adjusting Yeosang so he was perched sideways on his lap. San blinked, still stunned. Yeosang, cheeks burning, didn’t make a move to get up. After a beat, San let out a spluttering laugh of his own, unable to hold it back. The shameless, spoiled display was the kind of thing only Jongho could ever get away with.

Crimson spread down Yeosang’s neck as he settled uncertainly in Jongho’s hold, confusion tinting his expression. Jongho, however, had calmed considerably. His scent, which had been simmering toward something acrid the longer the conversation went on, softened again into the familiar, comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

“Is this okay?" Jongho said brazenly, his eyes lingering on Yeosang’s scent gland, though he visibly held back from acting on the instinct to nuzzle closer. Yeosang’s eyes flicked upward, meeting San’s. San wanted nothing more than to pull Yeosang into his lap, but he settled for a smile.

Yeosang shrugged, fingers fidgeting in his lap.

“Thank you,” Jongho nosed Yeosang’s cheek lightly. “But hyung’s right to be upset,” he added after a beat.

Yeosang seemed to shrink under the weight of the words, his shoulders curling inward as he picked at his cuticle.

San exhaled slowly. He didn’t want to add to Yeosang’s guilt, but the silence felt too heavy to ignore. “You hid something so important from us,” he said, careful to keep his voice light and non-accusatory. “I’m just… trying to understand why.” His fingers curled into his palms, nails biting into skin as he grounded himself, fighting to keep the raw edge of hurt from bleeding into his voice.

“I—” Yeosang squirmed. “I just…” His gaze flickered nervously to Hongjoong before dropping again. “I wasn’t supposed to be afraid,” he whispered.

“Because you were a beta?” Wooyoung asked, his voice thick. Yeosang gave a small nod.

San’s chest ached at the meek admission. Yeosang had boxed himself into the role he thought he was meant to play, suppressing anything that didn’t fit. And most of it was their fault. If San hadn’t been so quick to dismiss the cracks in his behavior as quirks of his designation, none of this would have spiraled. 

Wooyoung was right. They had all leaned far too heavily on that single label.

“So basically we’ve all done the exact opposite of everything you needed,” Mingi summarised with a pained sigh.

“I hate all of you,” Wooyoung said sourly, shoving San’s shoulder away from his own. San pulled back, hurt lancing through his chest at Wooyoung’s harsh words. He felt the ripple of hurt echoing through the bond, and Wooyoung caught it instantly. Regret flickered across his face, softening the anger that had flared too fast.

“I told you I should try,” he muttered, voice small.

Yeosang glanced between them, confusion clouding his expression, but the pack felt the weight of Wooyoung’s words as clearly as San did. Even Hongjoong’s posture sagged under it.

"I know. I’m sorry, Young-ah," Seonghwa said, voice low and full of remorse. “I was wrong.”

“It’s my fault too,” Wooyoung grumbled, voice thick with guilt as he curled against San’s side.

“And Yeosangie too. I’m so, so sorry,” Hongjoong added earnestly. “I don’t know how we can even begin to make it up to you, but I promise we never meant to hurt you. We love you more than you could ever imagine.”

Yeosang’s eyes widened, the soft pink dusting his cheeks blooming into a deeper flush. “It’s okay,” he murmured, though to San it was painfully obvious he didn’t understand. 

It felt like Yeosang had been blushing nonstop since the moment they sat down, and San wondered if they should ease up a bit to allow him time to process. 

“It’s not,” Seonghwa said firmly, his tone thick with sincerity. “We made some pretty bad calls in the past that I thought were for the best, but I was wrong. I know it’s probably hard to believe us or trust us again and that’s on us. But Yeosang…” He leaned forward, voice softening to a plea. “I promise we’ll do our best not to let you down again. Do you think you can try to trust us again? Just a little?”

Yeosang squirmed, clearly uncomfortable and overstimulated. Sensing his discomfort, Jongho gently tightened his hold, coaxing Yeosang to lean into him. After a moment’s hesitation, Yeosang slouched into the support, his slight frame pressing against Jongho’s broad chest. The contact seemed to soothe him, his tension easing by degrees.

San watched the scene with a heavy heart, guilt twisting low in his stomach. How had they all been so blind to Yeosang’s true sub-gender for so long? Watching the way he melted into Jongho’s touch made it painfully clear. San’s chest ached with the bitter realisation that he must have been willfully blind.

“It’s a big ask, I know,” Seonghwa smiled, albeit sadly, when Yeosang didn’t respond after a long pause. 

“We won’t push you into anything you’re not ready for,” Jongho added gently, shifting just enough to see Yeosang’s face. “And… I’m sorry for pushing you last time, hyung.”

“It’s okay,” Yeosang murmured automatically. San felt a flicker of frustration at the familiar dismissal. 

Except, this time, Yeosang continued. “I’m sorry as well.”

“For what?” Yunho asked carefully.

“I—I shouldn’t have hidden my scent profile,” Yeosang said awkwardly. His hand rose instinctively to shield the exposed gland, fingers curling protectively. “I was trying to... it was just a bad idea. So I’m sorry.”

“Thank you for apologising,” Hongjoong said warmly, and San watched as Yeosang visibly softened, almost preening under the praise.

“You’re welcome,” Yeosang mumbled shyly.

"Are you open to reconsidering rejoining the pack, too?" Mingi blurted out, his voice brimming with desperate optimism. 

“Mingi!” the rest of them exclaimed in unison, startled by his bluntness. San covered his mouth to hide a smile, unable to truly fault the omega for his eagerness.

“What? It’s just a question!” Mingi shot back defensively.

“C—can I think about it?” Yeosang asked, his voice small but steady. The room fell into stunned silence.

San blinked in surprise. He had expected a panicked refusal similar to the last time. Judging from the looks on their faces, the others had too.

"Of course," he agreed readily, the other members hurrying to echo his sentiment. 

Yeosang gave a tight smile and slowly began to extricate himself from Jongho’s lap.

“Then… I’m going to go shower,” he said, backing towards the hall with careful steps. It was clearly another retreat, but no one stopped him. They sat in stunned quiet, still reeling from the fact that he hadn’t said no.

******

"Yeosang?" San started, ducking under the spray and closing his eyes to hide from Yeosang's reactions. Shampoo suds streamed down his face, forcing him to keep them shut.

“Hm?” Yeosang’s voice was faint, almost drowned by the hiss of running water.

“Do all growls scare you now?” The question hung between them, heavy in the steam. Silence followed, stretching long enough that San cracked one eye open despite the burn. He needed to see him.

Yeosang stood rigid, his expression drawn tight as his eyes remained pinned to the shower wall.

“You noticed?” he asked at last, surprise coloring his tone.

San’s heart sank, his mood plummeting as he took in Yeosang’s reaction. Clearly, Yeosang had grown accustomed to his reactions flying beneath his radar.

“I—” Yeosang dragged a hand down his face with a weary sigh. “A little. I’m trying to get over it,” he admitted, the defeated note in his voice violently ripping out San’s heart. He rinsed the suds from his face quickly, desperate to give him his full attention.

“Hey, no,” San said quickly, his voice cracking with emotion. “That’s not something to be embarrassed about. It’s natural. And… I haven’t exactly given you many reasons to feel safe lately.”

The admission weighed heavily in his chest. Since Yeosang’s sudden departure from the pack, he’d spent countless hours replaying every moment, every choice, and the guilt had only sharpened with time. He had always prided himself on reading people, especially those he loved, yet Yeosang had hidden everything right under his nose. 

He had missed every sign, blind only because he hadn’t known what to look for. San thought back on all the moments he’d brushed aside as insignificant, the small flinches and fleeting hesitations he had explained away without question, never once considering that his own actions or those of his pack might have been the cause.

Yeosang’s eyes widened, and he shook his head firmly. “You don’t make me feel unsafe,” he said, the words tumbling out in a rush as if trying to reassure San.

“You don’t feel safe around me either, though,” San said, pointing out the obvious omission. Yeosang lowered his gaze, guilt pressing down on him.

“I—” Yeosang bit his lip nervously, biting back his words. 

San stayed silent, hoping the quiet would coax Yeosang to continue. To his surprise, it worked.

“I guess I just get a little nervous sometimes,” Yeosang admitted. Yeosang murmured, his voice so soft that San had to lean in to catch it. “Like… maybe you’ll think I’m trying to take them from you.”

San cursed inwardly. He hadn’t expected years of playful growls to come back and bite him in the ass like this. Clearly, he’d been extremely shortsighted, focused solely on instant gratification. His lack of reaction must have unsettled Yeosang since he immediately rushed to clarify.

“Not that you do! It’s just… I know you can be a bit possessive." His words tumbled faster and faster, panicking now. “And that’s not a bad thing, it’s just…” Worried eyes flicked to San, as though afraid his words had somehow hurt him. 

And they had. But San would take that fact with him to the grave. He wouldn’t allow him to worry about San when it was his fault that Yeosang believed the bullshit he was spouting. 

“They’re just as much yours as they are mine,” San said firmly, cutting him off. Yeosang blinked at him, taken aback. “You can’t steal something that already belongs to you.”

For a moment, Yeosang’s expression darkened, his brows knitting together as though San’s reassurance had only dredged up doubts and insecurities. His expression cleared before San could process it.

“Then… why do you always look at me like that?” Yeosang asked, voice tentative.

"Like what?"

“Like…” Yeosang hesitated, searching for the right words, “…you’re jealous?”

“Because I am,” San admitted, the truth slipping out before he could stop it. Both of them froze, eyes wide with shock.

“I thought you said…” Yeosang trailed off uncertainly.

San drew a deep breath, bracing himself. “Yeah, I did. And I meant it. But…” He faltered, torn between the urge to be fully honest and the fear of scaring Yeosang away. He wanted so badly to tell him the whole truth, but he wasn’t sure how Yeosang would react. He’d seen how Yeosang responded to Wooyoung’s confession, but their dynamics weren’t the same. Would Yeosang be receptive? 

Probably not. San had burned too many bridges over the years for him to respond similarly.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to force it,” Yeosang said, his voice strained as he tried to sound reassuring. “I’ll be more careful.”

“Careful?” San echoed, dumbfounded. Yeosang nodded brightly, misreading his reaction as encouragement.

“To not do anything that will make you jealous,” Yeosang clarified. San barely restrained a frustrated snarl and let out a loud groan instead. 

Yeosang still flinched.

“I told you, that doesn't bother me,” San said, his tone clipped as he fought to stay calm. Yeosang looked nervous again, and San hated that. He turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. His thoughts were spiraling too fast to finish here. He’d shower again at home.

Yeosang’s timid look tugged at his heart, and in that instant, San decided honesty was better than dancing around the truth.

Wooyoung was right. What was left to lose? The worst had already happened when Yeosang walked away from the pack.

“I’m not jealous of you. I’m jealous of them,” San said, throwing caution to the wind.

Yeosang blinked. “Of them?”

San’s resolve wavered as the words hung in the air. No doubt, the latter would remember all the liberties he'd taken with him over the years. The hugs, the kisses, the playful fights for possession with their fans. Every liberty he’d taken over the years would now carry new meaning for Yeosang. 

And selfishly, San didn’t want to be there when that realization hit.

He’d thought he could handle this, but now, standing half-naked and emotionally raw, he felt unbearably exposed. Embarrassment surged through him, hot and suffocating, burning away his composure. 

He couldn’t stay. He couldn’t face the truth reflected in Yeosang’s eyes.

So, without another word, San spun on his heel and bolted from the showers.

Jongho was going to have a field day with this.

Chapter Text

Yeosang stared blankly at the door San had disappeared through, the cold water from the gym showers still pounding against his back. San’s cocoa scent lingered in the air, its usual warmth now tinged with a sharp spiciness.

Frowning, Yeosang replayed San’s words. Jealous? Of what? Of the pack? Why?

The thought left Yeosang more bewildered than before, and he struggled to make sense of it. If San had singled out Wooyoung, Yeosang might have even hoped that the jealousy was romantic. He had been spending an almost obnoxious amount of time with Wooyoung lately. 

It was almost like the old days, back when it had just been the two of them, before ATEEZ came into their lives. Only now, there were more touches, more lingering brushes of hands and a quiet intimacy Yeosang had never dared even imagine. But San hadn’t even mentioned Wooyoung. He’d implied he was jealous of all of them. And Yeosang couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out why.

Nothing made sense lately. In barely over a month, Yeosang’s life had been turned completely upside down. The truths he’d clung to for years had unraveled into a tangle of contradictions and misunderstandings. Every conversation with the others seemed to challenge something he thought he knew. 

He had spent so long learning how to protect himself. Fear had become second nature, a quiet armor he wore without thinking. And now, with the pack offering warmth and acceptance so freely, letting go of that fear felt reckless.

How could he trust it? If he opened his heart and they changed their minds, what would be left of him?

It was one of the reasons he hadn’t found the courage to verbalize his feelings to Wooyoung. He felt as though the moment the words were spoken, everything would shatter. The way everyone acted like this shift was normal only added to his confusion. He couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable being affectionate in public because a part of him was still braced for the pack’s reaction, unsure how far their acceptance truly extended. Even now, San had admitted to being jealous of something Yeosang couldn’t even begin to understand.

Distracted and unsettled, he finished his shower, thoughts swirling like loose puzzle pieces that refused to fit.

As Yeosang dressed, a new unease began to creep in. He would have to walk home alone in broad daylight. Sure, he had a mask, but he knew how sharp-eyed fans could be. One lingering glance and he’d be recognized. 

Normally, when he went to the gym alone, he timed it for after sunset or arranged a ride. The idea of calling his manager briefly crossed his mind, but he dismissed it just as quickly. He hadn’t given a heads-up, and he didn’t want to disrupt anyone’s plans. Besides, it was only a ten-minute walk. He could handle it.

Still, it took nearly ten minutes just to gather the courage to leave the changing room. His cherry scent had turned faintly sharp with anxiety, and he silently cursed himself for forgetting scent blockers.

When he finally pushed the door open and stepped outside, he stopped short.

San was there, leaning casually against the side of the building, arms crossed and eyes fixed on the pavement.

“San-ah,” Yeosang called out, relief flooding his voice.

San’s head snapped up at the sound, his eyes immediately locking on to Yeosang’s. Like him, San wore a mask, but he’d also pulled a baseball cap low over his eyes, blending into the quiet street with practiced ease.

San straightened as Yeosang approached, his posture stiff, though his gaze was as piercing as always. His brows knit with concern as he scanned Yeosang from head to toe. Without a word, he reached out, gently grasping Yeosang’s wrist and turning him with quiet urgency. 

"Are you okay? What happened?" San asked, his voice low and filled with concern.

"Huh?" Yeosang blinked, momentarily confused, before understanding washed over him. 

 The realisation sent a warm flutter through Yeosang’s chest. His scent still carried his anxiety. It was still strange having the pack pick up on his emotions so quickly now that they’d learned to read his scent profile.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Yeosang said quickly, shaking his head and brushing it off. He tried to hide the small, involuntary smile tugging at his lips.

The change was as comforting as it was strange. For so long, he’d felt utterly alone, convinced they simply didn’t care enough to notice his feelings. It had taken him a while to understand that they simply hadn’t known what to look for. By the time that truth had settled in, Yeosang had already withdrawn so deeply into himself that it felt safer to stay hidden. He’d found solace in the fact that he could mask his emotions in plain sight. As long as his bond remained closed, he could hide his physical tells and remain unseen.

But now, they seemed to notice everything. Every subtle shift in his scent drew care and concern. It warmed the long-neglected corners of his heart, the parts of him that had yearned for this kind of attention. Yet, tangled with that warmth was a thread of bittersweetness.

Maybe those lonely years would have been easier if he had trusted them with his heart. The ache rose sharply, and he swallowed it back down, forcing it deep where it couldn’t surface.

San didn’t look convinced by his words. His eyes narrowed as he flicked a glance toward the building, his grip tightening protectively around Yeosang’s wrist.

“Did someone say something to you?” he asked.

“No, no,” Yeosang said quickly, shaking his head. “I was just… a little nervous about walking home.”

He tried to keep his voice light, brushing it off so San wouldn’t feel guilty for leaving first. 

San’s eyes widened anyway.

“You thought I left you?” San’s voice was quiet, but the hurt in it made Yeosang’s chest tighten.

He ducked his head, guilt blooming in his throat. In hindsight, it was glaringly obvious. Of course, San wouldn’t abandon him. Even back when everyone believed he was a beta, San had always been protective whenever they were in public. Now that San knew Yeosang was an omega, the idea felt even more absurd.

And yet, Yeosang had believed it.

“I… you just left,” he said weakly, giving a small, helpless shrug.

San exhaled audibly and tilted his head toward the clear sky, staring at it for a long moment. "Let’s just go home," he said softly, his voice stripped of its usual warmth. 

When his gaze lowered to meet Yeosang’s, the visible defeat in his eyes made Yeosang’s stomach knot. He nodded, unable to shake the feeling that he’d somehow made things worse.

The walk home was quiet. 

San stayed close, as always, positioning himself protectively between Yeosang and the road. He paused to pet a familiar street cat and offered a polite nod to the owner of their favourite food cart, but he said little else. With every step toward their condo, Yeosang’s heart beat a little faster, the silence between them growing heavier with each passing block.

Once they went their separate ways, Yeosang knew whatever tension lingered between them would only fester. Time had a way of distorting things. Silence would become resentment, turning misunderstandings into something harder to untangle. The longer they left it unspoken, the harder it would be to find their way back.

The problem was that Yeosang couldn’t even pinpoint what exactly was wrong. 

Was San upset that Yeosang had assumed he’d abandoned him? Or was this about the jealousy San had confessed to earlier? Both possibilities felt equally plausible and equally damning. What if he mentioned the wrong one and further exacerbated the situation?

The uncertainty gnawed at him, chewing away at his resolve. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to suppress the ache building in his chest as the space between them grew more pronounced.

By the time they reached the lobby, Yeosang still hadn’t found the courage to speak. His thoughts raced endlessly, but his mouth stayed shut. He trailed behind San to the elevators, standing stiffly beside him as San pressed their floors without a word.

His heart felt lodged in his throat, frustration clawing at his ribs. Why was it so hard to start the conversation? Why couldn’t he confidently address the sudden rift that had ripped open between them? His eyes burned with unshed tears, and a wave of helplessness washed over him.

When the elevator reached San’s floor, he stepped out with an almost strained, “Goodbye.”

Yeosang nodded in return, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor. He didn’t dare look up, afraid the alpha would catch the glint of unshed tears in his eyes.  As the doors began to close, his shoulders sagged in defeat.

But before the doors could close completely, a hand shot out, stopping them with a sharp jolt.

Yeosang’s head snapped up, startled, just in time to see San step back inside. San’s determined expression softened the moment he saw Yeosang’s eyes glistening, brows knitting with concern.

“Sang-ah, I’m not mad,” San said softly, his voice laced with reassurance and exhaustion. “I just… I need a little time to sort through everything. We’ll talk later, okay?”

"Sang-ah,” San said quietly, his voice a mixture of reassurance and weariness. "It’s okay, I’m not upset. I just…” Yeosang blinked, breath catching as San moved a step closer. 

“I need some time to gather my thoughts,” San continued, his tone gentling even further. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

Yeosang nodded grimly, a coil of anxiety tightening in his stomach. What did San want to say? The uncertainty gnawed at him, and though San’s words were meant to reassure, they only deepened his unease.

Before stepping out again, San leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Yeosang’s cheek, lingering over the soft curve of his cheekbone right where his birthmark rested. His lips stayed there for a moment, an unspoken apology etched into the tenderness of the gesture, and Yeosang’s chest tightened in response.

He stiffened, never quite sure how to receive San’s affection. He ached to lean in and bury his face in San’s neck, whispering for him to hold him just a little longer. 

***

By the time Yeosang stepped into the apartment, the silence that greeted him felt suffocating. It was always quiet, but today, the stillness pressed in on him, amplifying every doubt. He kicked off his shoes with a heavy sigh, the post-workout glow completely extinguished by the weight of his interaction with San. 

“Sangie?”

Mingi’s voice floated out from Yunho’s bedroom, and moments later, the taller omega appeared in the hallway. Relief bloomed in Yeosang’s chest at the sight of him, to not be left alone with his thoughts just yet. Mingi was dressed in faded grey shorts, his hair tousled from sleep, and faint pillow lines etched across his cheek and forehead. 

“What’s wrong?” Mingi asked, his soft brown eyes filled with concern.

Yeosang harshly wiped at his face, those two simple words cracking something open in his chest. A tear slipped free before he could stop it. He ducked his head, unwilling to cry when he couldn’t even explain why.

“Nothing,” he muttered, ducking his head. “I’m going to change.”

He tried to brush past Mingi, desperate to escape before he completely unravelled, but Mingi moved quickly, stepping into his path.

“You’re tearing up,” he said, voice still thick with sleep. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

Yeosang sniffled and scrubbed at his cheeks again, embarrassed by the tears that refused to stop. He bit down hard on his lip, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Just a few weeks of gentle coaxing from the pack, and now he was unraveling the moment someone tugged at a loose thread? Pathetic.

He wanted to tell Mingi it was nothing, that he was fine, but the words stuck in his throat. Before he could even try, Mingi closed the distance between them, wrapping him up in a tight embrace. His scent enveloped Yeosang instantly, crisp and calming. It helped ground him, the fresh rain washing over the frayed edges of his nerves as Mingi traced slow, soothing circles along his back.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Mingi murmured, his voice soft, even as confusion edged his tone. “Everything’s going to be fine. I promise.”

The words pierced straight through Yeosang’s chest.  He desperately wanted to believe them, but how could Mingi promise something he didn’t even understand? Yeosang didn’t understand it himself! He held his breath, trying to choke down the sobs clawing their way up, ashamed of how easily he was falling apart in front of someone else.

“I’m fine,” he managed at last, pulling back and wiping at his face again, though the tears kept coming. “It’s stupid. Don’t worry about it.”

Mingi frowned, shaking his head. “It’s not stupid, Yeosang-ah. You don’t have to pretend you’re okay when you’re not. It’s better to let it out. Keeping it inside won’t help. Trust me." His voice was soft but steady, carrying the weight of someone who had learned this lesson the hard way.

Yeosang’s chest tightened at the words, a tangle of guilt and frustration knotting beneath his ribs. He knew Mingi spoke from experience. Like him, Mingi had struggled with anxiety, but after years of therapy and the pack’s unwavering support, he’d slowly found his footing. 

Maybe knowing that should have been comforting, but it only served to make Yeosang feel smaller.

Mingi’s understanding gaze was almost unbearable. He stripped away Yeosang’s defenses with painful ease, with nothing more than quiet understanding. In that moment, he wished he could shed the weight pressing down on him and be as open as Mingi, but years of pretending had calcified around him like armour, and shedding it now felt almost impossible.

His lower lip trembled, the words hovering at the edge of his tongue. Mingi only had to murmur a soft, "It’s okay, just tell me," before the dam broke.

Yeosang spilled everything.

He stumbled through the story, his voice hitching in places, but once he started, he couldn’t stop. He recounted the way San’s confession had blindsided him, the confusing rush of emotions, and the heavy, awkward silence that followed. By the time he finished, his chest ached, but some of the pressure had eased, like he’d finally released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Mingi’s face softened with understanding, though his brows furrowed slightly as he pieced together the tangled explanation.

"So… he said he was jealous of us?" he repeated slowly, tilting his head.

Yeosang nodded, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “Yeah, but… I don’t get why. And then he left but didn’t, and got sad when I thought he did, and I… I just don’t understand.” He exhaled sharply, the words finally out, the weight on his chest a little lighter.

Maybe Jongho and the others were right. Talking helped. And with Mingi here earnestly trying to help, it didn’t feel quite so impossible to sort through.

Mingi let out a soft laugh, shaking his head affectionately as he reached for Yeosang’s gym bag, lifting it off his shoulder with ease. “Okay, come on,” he said, nudging him gently toward the kitchen. “Let’s get some liquids in you first.”

Yeosang followed obediently, gratefully accepting the cool glass Mingi pressed into his hands once they reached the kitchen.

“I know why San acted like that,” Mingi whispered, voice laced with a teasing edge. “I mean… I think I know. Probably.”

Yeosang blinked slowly, trying to clear the sting from his swollen eyes. He gave a small nod, and Mingi took that as permission to keep going. 

"You know how San is," Mingi said, waving a hand dramatically. "You know how San is… he’s pretty much an open book. Straightforward, always says what’s on his mind, and he’s super protective of us. But with you..." Mingi’s voice faltered, the cheekiness slipping into something more tentative. “He blames himself for everything that happened when you left the pack. We all do, but San… I think it messed him up more than he lets on.”

Yeosang looked down, the weight of Mingi’s words sinking deep into his chest. He hadn’t realized how profoundly his absence had scarred the others. Back then, he’d been on the brink of insanity, drowning in pain and constant doubt. For years, it had felt like he was standing outside in a snowstorm, watching the glow of the hearth from afar, convinced he didn’t deserve to step inside.

Misunderstandings had layered themselves, carving wounds too deep to ignore. And for the longest time, he’d believed that leaving was an act of mercy and that his silence would spare them the chaos inside him.

But over the past month, quiet conversations with the others had begun to chip away at that belief. Each moment of honesty, each shared regret, had softened the edges of his isolation.

Except with San.

He and San had yet to have any meaningful conversation. Now, hearing from Mingi just how deeply his absence had hurt the alpha, the guilt pressed deeper into the tender parts of him that were still raw and unhealed.

"And I think when you thought he left you today," Mingi continued gently, his expression earnest despite the way his hands twisted nervously in front of him, "it hurt him so much because that’s exactly what he’s afraid of,” his voice softened further, “That you’ve lost your trust in him completely. San would never leave you behind, Sangie. Not on purpose.”

Yeosang swallowed hard and nodded, guilt rising like a tide. "I didn’t mean to make him feel like that," he whispered, dragging his palm down his face. "I know he wouldn’t leave me, but… I just… panicked."

"I get it," Mingi said, wrapping his arms around Yeosang from behind in a quiet embrace. "You’ve been through a lot, and it’s… it’s not like you can just undo years of hurt overnight." He paused, then added softly, "We’ve put you through a lot."

"We’re sorry," he murmured, pressing his cheek against Yeosang’s shoulder. "Even if we don’t always say or do the right thing, we… we just want to make it better. Really, really badly."

The words “It’s fine” hovered on the tip of Yeosang’s tongue, but he swallowed them back. He was trying to be more honest with himself and the others. Brushing things off had never served him well before, and it wouldn’t now.

Mingi’s chin rested lightly on his shoulder, his warm breath ghosting against Yeosang’s ear. The quiet closeness felt strange, unsettling in a way Yeosang couldn’t quite name. Mingi wasn’t usually like this with him. His touches were typically fleeting and playful: quick hugs, dramatic spins after a victory in a game, brief squeezes on his hand that burned bright but vanished just as fast.

This was different.

The moment had shifted, slipping from casual comfort into something deeper, teetering on the edge of intimacy. He exhaled shakily and let himself lean back, allowing Mingi to bear some of his weight. The omega’s long arms wrapped securely around him, pinning Yeosang’s own arms at his sides. 

Then, slowly, Mingi began to move. His hands traced over Yeosang’s waist, his chest, his arms in slow, steady strokes like he was memorising him through touch alone. His warm cheek pressed against Yeosang’s softly. It wasn’t until the scent of rain bloomed around him that Yeosang understood.

Yeosang’s breath caught, surprise knotting in his throat. 

Mingi was scenting him. His wrists brushed against Yeosang’s skin and clothing, spreading his scent deliberately until it clung to every inch of him.

Part of him wanted to pull away. The gesture spoke of possession and comfort all at once, and Yeosang wasn’t sure how to receive it. But he couldn’t. Mingi’s touch was the only thing keeping him steady, anchoring him in a storm of tangled thoughts and emotions. If he let go now, he feared the tears he’d just managed to choke back would resurface, that San’s troubled expression would come crashing back into his mind.

So, he stayed still, waiting for Mingi to tire of the embrace.

Chapter Text

Mingi rocked gently on the spot, Yeosang swaying with him like a leaf caught in a quiet breeze. The smaller omega was so warm in his arms it almost burned, their cheeks brushing with each subtle shift. Mingi could smell the anxiety clinging to Yeosang's skin, sharp and almost bitter, yet somehow still pleasant to his senses. He tightened his hold, swaying them both as if the motion alone could unravel the knots wound tight in Yeosang’s body.

But unease was already crawling up Mingi’s spine, chilling him from the inside out. San leaving without calming Yeosang first was unthinkable. It just didn’t make sense. The alpha prided himself on being the pack’s anchor. He would never have left Yeosang so abruptly when he was obviously distressed. Something serious must have happened. 

Had San somehow hurt himself? Mingi dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. If that were the case, San would have sulked his way back into Yeosang’s good graces, using it as an excuse to stay glued to Yeosang’s side. Then… had something happened to one of the others?

The sudden chime of their phones shattered the fragile silence like glass. Yeosang flinched, blinking out of the daze he’d slipped into. He pulled away quickly, cheeks flushed a pretty pink that made Mingi want to coo and tease him, if only to see his blush deepen.

“I’m going to make a shake,” Yeosang mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

Mingi nodded, offering a soft smile as he watched Yeosang disappear into the kitchen. But then his phone chimed again. And again. The pings came in rapid succession, each one tightening the knot in his chest.

Frowning, he pulled the device from his pocket. Most of his notifications were muted since he hated the constant buzz of group chats. He rarely checked them unless one of the members nagged him into catching up. One, however, was always left untouched since the pack had sworn to use it only in the case of an emergency. Over the years, the only real emergencies to arise had been unexpected cycles.

His screen was flooded with alerts from that very chat. At the top was a message from Seonghwa, short and urgent. 

San’s in rut.

Ah. So that was it.

Relief washed over Mingi for a brief moment before worry surged back just as quickly. San’s cycles were the most reliable in the pack, rarely off by more than a day. They hadn’t expected his rut to hit before Thursday, and it was still Monday.

His gaze drifted toward the kitchen, where Yeosang moved quietly, his tart cherry scent still lingering in the air. The thought of leaving him like this made Mingi’s chest tighten, but he didn’t see another option. San would need the entire pack over the next few days. His ruts were intensely overwhelming, and he hated being apart from anyone. Yeosang’s absence alone would already have him on edge. If Mingi stayed behind too, it could push San past his limits.

He skimmed the rest of the messages. At least the others would be there soon. Wooyoung and Jongho were already on their way up. Yunho was nearly back from the corner store. Even Hongjoong, still at his studio, had promised to arrive within fifteen minutes. 

Mingi took a deep breath and forced himself into motion, his mind still racing. As he stepped into the kitchen, the sight that greeted him twisted something deep in his chest. 

A tray sat on the counter, neatly arranged with seven cups.

Mingi’s throat tightened, and a familiar sadness filled the pit of his stomach. That number always felt wrong. And this was the first time he’d seen Yeosang preparing the tray himself. The image was quietly devastating: Yeosang, alone, performing a ritual meant for togetherness.

Yeosang shut the fridge, a large water jug in hand. He glanced at Mingi, his face carefully blank and his eyes unreadable.

"You can take this with you," he said, placing the jug on the tray with a flatness that made Mingi wince. Then he turned away, reaching for his blender without another word.

Mingi shifted where he stood, heat prickling beneath his skin. He’d never been good at reading emotions, least of all Yeosang’s, but he didn’t need to be a mind reader to feel the distance yawning wide between them. Just minutes ago, he’d let himself hope. He’d thought maybe the gap that had always lingered was finally closing. But now, standing in the wake of Yeosang’s quiet detachment, that hope scattered like dust in the wind. 

The kitchen buzzed with the low hum of the blender, a soft rhythm that clashed with the chaos in Mingi’s mind. What should he do? He curled his fists tight, nails biting into his palms until it stung. He couldn’t let his emotions overwhelm him when he was supposed to be the one offering comfort.

The front door beeped open, and Mingi immediately caught the scent of San’s cocoa-rich pheromones, now thick and overpowering with the onset of his rut. The air shifted, tension curling through the room like smoke. A shiver ran down his spine, his breath hitching as his omega registered the shift. His skin prickled as heat bloomed low in his belly.

Yeosang glanced over his shoulder, unease flickering across his face before it was quickly masked by practiced indifference. From the hallway, they could hear Seonghwa’s soft voice coaxing the grumbling, restless alpha toward the Nesting Room. Then the door clicked shut, sealing them off once again in silence.

“Why aren’t you going after them?” Yeosang’s voice broke the quiet, softer now, almost hesitant.

Mingi paused. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or if Yeosang truly sounded reluctant to hear the answer. The bitter irony wasn’t lost on him. He’d promised Yeosang that San would never leave him behind. And yet, here they were. San was pulling the others toward him, instinct demanding the whole pack close ranks around him, while Yeosang stood on the outside looking in. Every comfort Mingi had offered earlier felt flimsy now, useless against the quiet weight of Yeosang’s isolation.

“He has Hyung with him right now,” he said weakly. 

Yeosang gave him a strange look but didn’t press. He simply nodded and placed the blender in the sink, the motion slow and deliberate.

Mingi swallowed, words dragging against his throat. “…Does it bother you?”

Yeosang turned back to him, confusion flickering across his features. The shift soothed something in Mingi’s chest. It was a relief not to be staring into the mask of indifference.

“Does what bother me?” Yeosang asked, settling gracefully into a chair at the table. He took a slow sip of his shake, watching Mingi with quiet curiosity. When he pulled the cup away, a smear of foam clung to his upper lip. 

Mingi reached out instinctively to wipe it away, but Yeosang’s tongue flicked out, catching the foam before he could. Mingi dropped his hand awkwardly, heat creeping up his neck.

“That,” he muttered, gesturing toward the Nesting Room.

Yeosang let out a soft laugh, but the sound was strained, lacking any warmth. "No, it's natural. Just because I don’t experience it doesn’t mean I find it strange."

Mingi shook his head. "No, not the rut. I mean..." 

His voice faded as the front door opened again. He didn’t need to smell them to know it was Jongho and Wooyoung. He could hear their bickering echoing down the hall. Yunho’s scent followed, calm and familiar, though he moved quietly, without adding to the noise.

The door clicked shut behind them, and the silence returned, heavier than before.

Yeosang didn’t push, and somehow that only made it harder for Mingi to speak. The silence pressed on him until the words stumbled out, clumsy and too loud in the quiet.

“I mean… our relationship,” he admitted.

Mingi watched Yeosang closely, catching the way his brows furrowed at the mention of it. A flicker of something unreadable passed through Yeosang’s eyes, and Mingi’s stomach twisted. Did Yeosang really find their polycule strange? 

Mingi’s thoughts tumbled over themselves, tangled in hope and doubt. Ever since Yeosang had started seeing Wooyoung, he’d allowed himself to believe that maybe Yeosang was warming to the idea of their relationship. Over the years, Yeosang had never shown overt romantic interest in anyone in the pack. He treated everyone with the same quiet care, never favouring one over another. But that neutrality had always left room for possibility.

If he’d been hiding feelings for Wooyoung all along… then maybe he could’ve been hiding them for Mingi too.

At first, Mingi had assumed Yeosang was simply put off by their polycule, maybe even alienated by it. But little pieces of conversation trickled down from the others over time, carrying small hints that Yeosang didn’t feel as detached as he seemed. Those fragments had built Mingi’s confidence enough to believe Yeosang might secretly share the same longing Mingi carried.

But Yeosang’s reaction now shattered it. The discomfort in his eyes and the tension in his posture was unmistakable. He was deeply uncomfortable.

Yeosang downed the rest of his shake in one gulp, his eyes flicking anywhere but toward Mingi. “No, it doesn’t,” he said finally. He shot to his feet before Mingi could answer, depositing the cup in the sink without meeting his gaze. “Don’t forget that,” he added, nodding toward the tray before slipping out of the kitchen without another word.

Mingi sighed and reached for the tray, his arms feeling heavier than they should. He carried it into the hallway, stopping at the narrow console table outside the Nesting Room. The surface was cluttered with decorative pieces, and he wondered how Yeosang had ever managed to make space while balancing the tray. As he was pondering, Hongjoong arrived.

“Ming,” Hongjoong said softly, casting a wary glance toward the closed Nesting Room door. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Mingi admitted, helplessness creeping into his tone. “I think Yeosang might’ve triggered it somehow, but I don’t know how.” His shoulders hunched as he gave a helpless shrug. “And Sangie’s not in a good place either right now, so I didn’t want to leave him alone,” he added, the words breaking into a whine under the weight of everything pressing down on him. 

“That’s fine, I’ll stay with him. You go to San,” Hongjoong said gently, his calm presence immediately soothing Mingi’s frayed nerves. “He’ll handle things better with me not there than without you.”

Mingi hadn’t even considered asking one of the alphas to take over with Yeosang, but Hongjoong was right. San would be more possessive than usual, especially with the omegas. If he knew Mingi was safe, it would be easier to manage him.

“But… what’s going on with Yeosangie?” Hongjoong asked, concern threading through his voice.

“If I knew, I’d tell you,” Mingi sighed. “Something about San confusing him by saying he’s jealous of us? And then sulking when Yeosang thought he left without him?” He recounted the events as best he could, though everything still felt muddled in his head. It was all very confusing, but at the crux of it— “I think he’s just really upset that he upset San.” 

“Sounds like it,” Hongjoong murmured, slipping off his cardigan and draping it over Mingi’s arm with a reassuring pat. “Okay. I’ve got this. Go to Sannie.”

With that, he turned and headed toward Yeosang’s room, leaving Mingi to face the storm waiting in the Nesting Room.

The moment Mingi opened the door, the atmosphere hit him like a wall. Tension rippled through the room, sharp and suffocating, pressing against his skin before he even stepped inside. The room was dominated by two massive Alaskan King beds pushed together, leaving only a narrow six-foot strip of floor. San was pacing that narrow strip of floor like a caged animal, his body taut with barely contained agitation. On the bed, Seonghwa’s hands moved in restless precision as he tried to piece together a nest, while Wooyoung sat nude at the edge, gnawing at his nails as Yunho murmured quiet reassurances beside him.

Judging by Wooyoung’s state of dress, Mingi could only assume his attempts to soothe and seduce San had failed. The air was thick with desperation, the kind that clung to the walls and made it hard to breathe.

“San-ah,” Mingi called softly, nudging the door shut with his foot as he set the tray down on the slim dresser opposite the bed. 

San’s eyes snapped to him instantly, wide and wild. His normally warm and sweet pheromones had turned sharp and overwhelming, flooding the room with his distress. In an instant, he was across the room, pulling Mingi into a crushing embrace and mouthing at his mating bite with frantic urgency.

Mingi tilted his head, baring his throat further in instinctive submission, his eyes flicking to Jongho as he exited the en suite. The alpha grimaced, shrugging helplessly as he made his way over to Wooyoung. It was clear that every attempt to settle San had failed.

Before Mingi could ask what had happened, San pulled back. 

“Where’s Yeosang?” San’s voice cracked on the question, more plea than demand. The sound ripped through Mingi, pulling a pained whimper from his omega. He stepped closer, desperate to soothe the raw distress radiating off him.

Unlike heats, ruts weren’t inherently sexual. For Mingi, being without Yeosang during heat was agonizing, but his body was wired to crave being bred. The alphas’ presence usually dulled the edge of his need, distracting him enough to cope. San, however, didn’t have that luxury.

Most days, San was calm, gentle, and protective. He definitely had a dominant streak, but it was tempered by affection. During his ruts, though, the need to possess sharpened into something primal. It grew until it consumed him, leaving little room for reason. Being kept away from Yeosang agitated him greatly, so the pack worked tirelessly to redirect his focus. If they could catch him early, they could distract him and soothe him with their bodies. Something about the post-orgasm haze the omegas slipped into seemed to dull his more possessive instincts.

But one glance at Wooyoung told Mingi that the distraction hadn’t worked. That alone was deeply concerning. If they’d already missed the early window, San would remain in this heightened state for the rest of his rut. Soon, he might even turn on the other alphas, seeing them not as packmates but as obstacles standing between him and Yeosang.

“He’s sleeping,” Mingi lied gently, careful not to mention that Hongjoong was with him. San’s jealousy was unpredictable during his ruts, and one wrong word could send them all spiraling into the very chaos they were trying to avoid.

San didn’t take the answer well. He growled low in his throat, then spun on his heel to resume his frantic pacing.

Mingi glanced helplessly at Yunho, who was crouched beside Seonghwa, doing his best to calm the older omega. Seonghwa’s nest-building had grown increasingly erratic, his movements sharp and hurried as San’s pheromones thickened the air.

Yunho met Mingi’s eyes and shrugged, just as helpless. “Nothing we’ve tried has worked,” he whispered as Mingi approached the bed. “Even Seonghwa-hyung and Wooyoungie’s pheromones didn’t settle him. He just keeps saying Yeosang is sad.”

Mingi hummed in quiet understanding. Given the state Yeosang had been in when he arrived at the apartment, he could only imagine how pitiful he must have looked when San left him behind.

“I need—” Seonghwa’s voice broke mid-sentence as his hands reached for Mingi’s waistband, tugging it down with sudden urgency.

“Hyung!” Mingi yelped, startled, but he didn’t resist. He stepped out of his shorts, letting Seonghwa snatch them up for the nest. He pressed Hongjoong’s cardigan into Seonghwa’s hands as well. The older omega took it gratefully, his brow furrowing when he caught the lingering freshness of Hongjoong’s scent.

“Where is he?” Seonghwa hissed, eyes flashing with desperation.

He had been with San since his rut began, and Mingi could see the toll it had already taken. Seonghwa looked like he was drowning, struggling to keep his head above water in the overwhelming sea of San's pheromones.

“With Yeosang,” Mingi whispered. Seonghwa gave a curt nod in acknowledgement before he scrambled back to the nest, hands moving with renewed urgency as he tried to finish the arrangement.

Mingi watched with quiet empathy. The atmosphere in the room felt suffocating. The tension was wound so tightly it pressed against his chest, making it hard to breathe. He felt moments away from unraveling himself, teetering on the edge of joining Wooyoung and Seonghwa in their panic.

His mind raced, scanning the room for anything that might help. San was on the verge of losing control, and if they didn’t ground him soon, the situation would spiral beyond what any of them could manage. He had to calm San down before things got any worse. 

Then, an idea struck him, absurd in its simplicity. 

"I’m fine," he whispered in warning to Jongho. Then he groaned loudly, clutching his stomach as if struck by a sudden, sharp pain. Jongho’s eyes widened in alarm, but then softened with understanding.

San’s pacing came to an abrupt halt. His head snapped toward Mingi, eyes blown wide with dilated pupils, locking onto him with predatory intensity. 

“San,” Mingi groaned again, more dramatically this time, and let himself collapse to the floor, curling in on himself as though in agony.

San was on him in seconds, scooping him up and pulling him into a fierce, protective embrace. The rest of the pack closed in, concern etched across their faces, but Mingi gave a subtle shake of his head, silently urging them to stay back.

“What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?” San asked, voice tight with panic as he cradled Mingi close, his grip protective and trembling.

Mingi pressed a hand to San’s chest, offering a weak but reassuring smile. The last thing he needed was San panicking enough to drag him to the E.R in the middle of a rut. “I’m okay, San-ah. Just a cramp, I think,” he lied, wincing convincingly.

“Ah!” Jongho exclaimed, eyes wide. “He must’ve eaten and then exercised!” He shook his head, feigning disappointment. “You should know better, Hyung.” Behind San’s back, Wooyoung rolled his eyes, and Yunho coughed to hide a laugh.

San frowned, concern etched deep into his features as he gently rubbed Mingi’s stomach in slow, soothing circles. “You know not to do that,” he reprimanded softly.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Mingi said docilely. San grumbled under his breath as he scooped Mingi into a princess carry. Mingi groaned again, leaning into the act, while Wooyoung snickered quietly behind them.

Seonghwa stepped in, guiding San toward the bed and inviting him to lay Mingi down in the nest he’d painstakingly crafted. San settled into the nest, curling around Mingi with delicate care as Mingi offered just the right complaints at just the right moments.

One by one, the rest of the pack joined them on the oversized bed, sprawling out in close proximity to each other. Low murmurs filled the room, and for the first time since San’s rut began, a fragile sense of peace began to settle over them all.

Unfortunately, it didn’t last. 

After only a few minutes, Mingi felt San’s body tense again, muscles bunching against his back as the restless energy returned. San sat up abruptly, letting Mingi slip from his hold. Mingi rolled onto his back, watching the agitated alpha scan the Nesting Room with wild, searching eyes.

“Where is Hyung?” San asked tightly, glancing over his shoulder at Seonghwa.

Mingi’s eyes darted to Yunho’s, his panic reflected in them. 

"He’s coming, don’t worry," Seonghwa said gently. 

“I’ll go find him,” San declared, already moving toward the foot of the bed.

Jongho rose from his lounging position, casually stepping into San’s path. “Hey, I’ll find Hyung. Mingi’s not feeling well. He needs you,” he said, voice calm but firm, intercepting without making it obvious he was blocking him.

"Exactly," Wooyoung cut in quickly, sitting up and reaching for San’s hand. “Hyung knows his way. Trust me. You just focus on Mingi right now.”

Mingi seized the moment, letting out a pained whimper and curling in on himself as he pressed a hand to his stomach.

San’s gaze snapped to him, softening for a heartbeat before flooding with despair. “What about Yeosang?” he whispered, voice cracking as he made his way back to Mingi’s side. “He’s… he needs me too.”

And there it was—the inevitable unravelling. 

Mingi sighed inwardly, bracing himself for another long, exhausting rut. They’d missed the window. San was slipping, and now they’d be dealing with the fallout. At least San only had one natural rut a year. If they were as frequent as Mingi’s heats, he was certain he’d have lost his mind by now.

Chapter Text

Yeosang stared wearily into the darkness of his room. The blackout curtains swallowed the city lights, leaving only a faint sliver of light sneaking in under the door from the hallway. It was already the second day of San’s rut, and things weren’t going smoothly.

Yeosang was fairly certain he was the reason why.

San’s rut arriving early was a red flag in itself. Yeosang didn’t fully understand how early ruts were triggered, but judging by the patterns of the other alphas, stress seemed to be the common cause. And Yeosang could admit at least to himself that he’d caused more than his fair share of stress lately.

He had left the pack without warning or explanation, was now attempting to dissolve his contract early, and, on top of that, had complicated things further by exploring a relationship with Wooyoung, effectively inserting himself into their polycule. It wasn’t hard to see why San was unravelling.

Then there was the conversation with Mingi. Whatever he’d relayed to the others had clearly unsettled them. Now, they seemed to believe Yeosang couldn’t be left alone for too long.

On the first day of San’s rut, Hongjoong had stayed with him for about three hours before Jongho came looking for him. Yeosang had felt a wave of relief when Jongho arrived. He knew Hongjoong meant well, but having company during times like this felt suffocating. It made him feel like a burden. He’d become just another problem the pack Alpha had to juggle alongside San’s rut.

When Hongjoong left, however, Jongho stayed behind. 

Thankfully, Yeosang didn’t mind his presence as much. The youngest alpha didn’t carry the same gravity, and Yeosang could breathe a little easier. With the elder gone, Yeosang had finally felt brave enough to question their presence. Jongho had just laughed, pulling him into his lap for a tight, nearly suffocating hug. Yeosang had spluttered in surprise, but before he could protest, Yunho had burst in looking thoroughly frazzled. He’d demanded Jongho return to the Nest, then tried to stay behind in the younger’s place. 

Yeosang had put his foot down then. San clearly wasn’t coping well with the absence of his pack members, and Yeosang couldn’t stomach the thought of being the reason San suffered further. Especially since he still wasn’t sure what San had meant with that jealous comment. The ambiguity gnawed at him, but it was too stressful to unpack.

So Yeosang fell back into what he knew best: being useful.

Keeping everyone fed and hydrated was something he was familiar with. Ruts were always harder than heats. The alphas were more headstrong, more volatile, and the emotional weight of the pack’s dynamic pressed heavier during these times. Every time the Nesting Room door opened, San’s potent scent spilled out, mingling with the others and drifting down the hall. It tightened the knot in Yeosang’s chest, made his omega ache to soothe his beloved alpha. But just like every other time, Yeosang reminded himself it wasn’t his place.

If he couldn’t soothe San directly, though, he could at least ease the strain in other ways.

So for the past two days, he’d focused on what he could control. He ordered food, kept fresh towels stocked, and ensured a steady flow of water. But no matter how much he busied himself, the anxiety in his chest refused to settle. Sleep had eluded him the night before, and last night had been no different.

Now, with the light beneath his door signalling someone had stepped out again, Yeosang’s heart began to race as footsteps approached his bedroom. A soft knock followed, then the slow creak of the door. Even before he could make out the silhouette, Seonghwa’s familiar fruity scent reached him, cutting through the lingering chocolatey haze of San’s rut.

Yeosang pushed himself up onto his elbows.

“Hyung?” he called, when Seonghwa remained silent in the doorway.

Seonghwa cleared his throat and stepped further inside. “You’re awake,” he said softly.

Yeosang sat up fully, unease prickling at him. “Is everything alright?” he asked, reaching for the lamp on his bedside table. The sudden glow made him wince, but it also sharpened the worry etched on Seonghwa’s face.

“Yeah, yeah, fine, great, it’s all good,” Seonghwa replied, his tone far too bright and chipper to be convincing.

Yeosang’s frown deepened. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, adrenaline kicking in. “Are you sure? Do you need me to go out and grab something?”

Seonghwa wouldn’t leave San unless something was wrong. But what could possibly warrant that? Panic bloomed in his chest as he rushed to the wardrobe, thoughts buzzing incoherently as he searched for something to throw on over his pyjamas. It was nearly dawn, but the corner shop was open 24 hours. They’d have whatever they needed, whatever it was.

“Baby, wait,” Seonghwa said, catching his wrist and gently pulling him back. “I don’t need you to go anywhere. Please.” His voice was worn thin, frayed with exhaustion. “I just… I have a favour to ask you.”

Seonghwa looked utterly spent, his expression tight with something Yeosang couldn’t quite name. He waited, almost afraid of what might come next.

“Would you be alright with— and it’s completely fine if you say no— but would you be okay coming to the Nest for a bit?” Seonghwa asked, voice tentative.

Yeosang’s jaw dropped, the shock jolting through his system like cold water. For a moment, the meaning of the words simply didn’t register. The request was so far outside the realm of possibility that his brain stuttered over it, refusing to compute.They stared at each other in stunned silence, Yeosang’s heart hammering against his ribcage in an erratic, uncomfortable rhythm.

The Nesting Room?

He’d never been beyond the doorway during a cycle. No one had ever invited him in. That space belonged wholly to the core members of the pack. For them to open it to him now, to ask him inside, was almost unthinkable. The word yes sat on the tip of his tongue, aching to be spoken. But Yeosang bit it back, not wanting to seem too eager, too desperate to be part of something so deeply personal.

Seonghwa noticed his hesitation, the uncertainty written plainly across his face, and quickly amended, “It’s okay, you don’t have to. I just thought I’d ask.” He looked away, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Is he okay?” Yeosang asked, confused. It was the only real reason they’d even bring this up. But if San wasn’t, shouldn’t they be seeking medical help or something? What could Yeosang possibly do that the others hadn’t already tried? “Should I call the manager?”

“No, it’s fine, we can handle it. Then… uh, could I borrow your shirt?” Seonghwa asked softly, gesturing to the pyjama top Yeosang was wearing.

Yeosang removed the shirt without hesitation, handing it over even as he wondered why Seonghwa would need it. He’d long since grown accustomed to his pack using his belongings during their cycles. He’d always chalked it up to his pack status. It wasn’t exactly typical to want everyone’s scent close during those moments but nothing about ATEEZ’s approach to packhood had ever been conventional, so he hadn’t questioned it.

But this was the first cycle since he’d left and, suddenly, the gesture felt different.

“Thanks,” Seonghwa murmured, bringing the shirt to his face and inhaling deeply. Yeosang watched the behaviour curiously, brows furrowing when Seonghwa winced. When their eyes met, Seonghwa’s gaze heavy with sorrow, understanding jolted through him.

“Oh!” He lurched forward, reaching for the anxiety-soaked shirt. He really wasn’t used to them knowing the truth about his scent profile.“Sorry, I just… had trouble sleeping,” he said quickly, making a clumsy grab for the fabric.

Seonghwa easily shifted it out of reach. “Why? What happened?” His words were filled with urgency as he caught Yeosang’s wrist with his free hand.

“Nothing,” Yeosang replied, tugging gently in a silent plea to be set free. Seonghwa’s grip only tightened.  He let the shirt fall and instead cupped Yeosang’s face firmly, studying him intently.

“Hyung, I’m fine. San needs you right now.”

Seonghwa narrowed his eyes. “He’s fine, he’s just being an uncontrollable brat right now.” 

“Oh.” 

Yeosang blinked, thrown off by the bluntness. He wasn’t entirely sure what San was like during his ruts, but he’d overheard enough complaints over the years to know he was a handful. That Seonghwa was even standing before him now was surprising, considering how possessive San’s alpha instincts could be.

Realisation struck like lightning. There was only one reason Seonghwa would leave San’s side during a time like this. 

San must have asked for him.

Yeosang’s mind raced, piecing together the fragments: San had confessed to feeling jealous of the other members before his rut began. Seonghwa had invited Yeosang into the Nesting Room, and when he’d declined, they’d asked for something with his scent instead.

It sounded improbable. Impossible, even. But it was the only conclusion that made sense.

San wanted him.

San wanted him and the others were willing to soothe him with Yeosang’s presence, even if only by proxy. Yeosang’s heart burned with something dangerously close to hope.

San wanted him.

The thought burned through Yeosang, scorching and exhilarating all at once. But he’d missed his chance. Seonghwa had rescinded his request. If he were to bring it back up, would he not seem pathetically desperate?

“Why couldn’t you sleep? Were you lonely?” Seonghwa asked gently, and the question landed too close to the mark. Unpacking his emotions felt infinitely more pathetic.

The words slipped out before he could stop them. “I—I can go,” he mumbled, so quiet he wasn’t sure Seonghwa had even heard him. 

It worked as more than a distraction. Seonghwa’s reaction was immediate, his eyes lighting up as relief washed over his face. 

"Really?" Seonghwa's voice rose, almost disbelieving. "Oh my God, thank you, thank you, thank you." He threw himself at Yeosang, pulling him into a tight hug. "He’s been impossible to deal with," he added, stepping back and looking at Yeosang as though he hung all the stars in the sky. 

Yeosang felt his face flush and ducked his head shyly.

“I do want to warn you though,” Seonghwa said, half laughing now, the tension finally easing from his frame. “He’s… a lot. If you agree to go in there, you’re basically giving up any right to personal space. He’ll be all over you. If it gets too much, though, just tell him to stop. He’ll listen. He gets really touchy, but he would never do anything you don’t want.”

Yeosang felt a pang of loneliness at hearing Seonghwa speak so intimately about San. They knew each other in ways he would never experience, and it was a bitter pill to swallow. He pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the fact that, for the first time ever, he would be present for one of their cycles. He was nervous and uncertain, teetering on the edge of outright terror. He had no idea of what to expect beyond what he’d seen in films or overheard in hushed conversations.

“But maybe…” Seonghwa said, bending down to retrieve the shirt he’d abandoned. Yeosang blinked in confusion as Seonghwa dressed him again, a light smirk tugging at his lips. "Just to be safe."

Then Seonghwa caught his chin again, squinting at him appraisingly until Yeosang began to squirm beneath the weight of his gaze.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice what you just did.” His voice dropped, carrying an almost menacing edge. “Consider this an intermission,” he warned.

Yeosang flushed hotly, but Seonghwa simply took his hand and led him out of the room. As they walked the short hallway, Seonghwa offered a string of reassurances meant to calm him, though none seemed to reach past the storm of nerves swirling in Yeosang’s stomach. The thought of stepping into an active Nest for the first time overshadowed his embarrassment at being caught.

At the threshold, Seonghwa paused, his hand resting lightly on the door handle. “You ready?” he asked, his tone soft but steady.

Yeosang swallowed, the sound unnaturally loud in his ears, but he nodded all the same.

“If you need space, just say my name,” Seonghwa said with a soft smile, then pushed the door open.

The scent hit him first, overpowering, thick, and intoxicating in its intensity. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. 

The second thing he registered was the nearly feral gaze locking onto him. 

San sat at the foot of the massive bed, elbows braced on his knees, posture rigid and coiled. His eyes had snapped to Yeosang the moment the door opened, dark, hungry, and unrelenting. Behind him, Jongho and Yunho mirrored that intensity, their bodies taut with unspoken tension. Further back lay Hongjoong, Mingi, and Wooyoung, the two omegas looking as drained as Seonghwa had when he’d come to find Yeosang.

To Yeosang’s relief — and minor disappointment — everyone was fully dressed.

His attention returned to San, whose entire frame was wound so tightly it looked ready to snap. He rose slowly, gaze locked onto Yeosang with such raw, unfiltered want that it made his skin prickle. It was as though San had stumbled upon an oasis after days wandering a barren desert, his thirst palpable in every deliberate step.

“San-ah,” Yeosang whispered, voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart.

He couldn’t believe how much tension radiated from him. Despite his muscular build, San had always moved with fluid grace, much like a panther, prowling with quiet confidence. But now, there was nothing smooth about him. He was predatory, taut, and on edge, as if the slightest provocation would cause him to shatter completely.

Yeosang’s pulse quickened as San approached, unsure of what to expect. The uncertainty seemed to echo through the room, the air thick with unspoken disquiet. Yunho and Jongho rose abruptly, hovering just behind San, their watchful eyes tracking his every movement.

"Yeosang," San breathed out, his voice hoarse. He raised his hands and cupped Yeosang’s face, his touch so gentle it was almost shocking. Yeosang had instinctively braced himself for something more forceful, something that matched the raw tension in San’s posture. But San's hands moved over him with reverence, his thumbs brushing delicately along Yeosang’s cheekbones as if he were fragile, something precious to be handled with care. 

Then, without warning, San pulled him into a crushing embrace, pressing their bodies together as though he wanted to fuse them into one. The sudden force knocked the air from Yeosang’s lungs, the sheer desperation behind it startling in its intensity. The pressure wasn’t painful. It was overwhelming and desperate, like San was clinging to him for survival. He buried his face in the crook of Yeosang’s neck and inhaled deeply, breathing him in with a long, shuddering breath, like a man starved finally given the one thing he’d craved above all else.

Yeosang tentatively returned the hug, shaken by the sheer intensity of San’s need. His heart raced, both from the closeness and the unexpected fragility in San's posture. San was usually so composed, but here he was, unravelling and clinging to him like a lifeline. 

Instinctively, Yeosang pushed out his calming pheromones, hoping to ease the rigidity in San’s body and offer some measure of relief. It wasn’t something he’d ever consciously done before, but with San so stiff in his arms, it felt like the only thing that made sense.

San’s arms tightened almost imperceptibly, his cocoa scent growing lighter and sweeter the longer they stood there, enveloped in each other's warmth. 

Yeosang glanced over San’s shoulder, catching Seonghwa’s gaze. The older omega had settled on the edge of the bed, his lips curved into a small, trembling smile. Yeosang frowned, concern blooming in his chest.

Shifting his gaze, he took in the rest of the room. Jongho and Yunho had eased back onto the bed, their earlier vigilance softening now that San had calmed. The tension in their shoulders had melted away, but there was something heavier lingering in their expressions. Their eyes shimmered with an unsettling mix of relief and sorrow. Even Wooyoung and Mingi looked oddly subdued as they curled up in Hongjoong’s arms, clearly drunk on the Alpha’s pheromones.

A knot of unease twisted tight in Yeosang’s stomach. Had he inadvertently hurt them?

He wasn’t part of their pack anymore. And even when he had been, he’d never shared the deep, instinctive bond they’d cultivated over the years. Yet here he was, the one to calm San when even Seonghwa had seemed at a loss.

The realisation made him feel even more like an intruder. Did they resent him for being the one San wanted in this moment?

His throat tightened painfully as he cast his eyes on the only one in the room who didn’t seem stricken by grief. The Alpha lounged against the custom headboard, his expression unreadable save for the faintest tilt of his lips. When their gazes met, Hongjoong’s mouth curled into an almost predatory smile. 

A shiver shot down Yeosang’s spine just as the Alpha mouthed “watch out” just a split second before San let Yeosang go.

Yeosang barely had time to register his brief moment of freedom before San hoisted him clean off his feet and slung him over his shoulder with a grunt. A few chuckles rippled through the room, easing the nerves that had been steadily building in his chest.

San’s single-minded determination consumed Yeosang’s attention as the alpha strode towards the oversized bed and all but tossed him into the nest of clothes piled at its centre. The mingled scents of the pack enveloped him, overwhelming his senses for a moment before San followed, pinning him firmly to the mattress.

San’s weight pressed him into the soft layers beneath them, the alpha capturing both wrists and holding them above his head. Yeosang could barely move under the grip as San lowered his face to his neck, clearly aiming for his scent gland.

“Hyung,” the panicked plea slipped from Yeosang’s lips before he could think. Jongho was faster. His hand shot out, gripping San’s shoulder and yanking him back before contact could be made.

A feral snarl tore from San’s throat, the sound reverberating through the room as Seonghwa rushed to his side. Yeosang froze, fear spiking in his chest. For a brief, dizzying moment, he was back at the kitchen table, scared to look, touch, or breathe wrong around his pack.

Jongho remained unfazed. He met the alpha’s gaze with a firm, unyielding look. “You have to ask,” he scolded.

San’s head snapped back to Yeosang, and all the feral intensity in his eyes was replaced with panic. He scrambled off him, backing away so quickly that it left the omega more bewildered than afraid. He watched, stunned, as San retreated to the far side of the room, apologising over and over.

Yeosang sat up slowly, glancing around at the others for answers. The room had fallen silent, his confusion mirrored in their expressions.

Hongjoong’s soft laugh cut through the growing uncertainty. "San-ah," he said, his voice soothing. "It’s not like that. Your growls just startled him."

Only then did Yeosang realise his scent had soured, betraying the burst of anxiety that had flared in his chest at the sound of San’s snarl. He nodded quickly in agreement. The sound had triggered something deep within him, something reflexive that he didn't know how to fix, but he hadn’t been afraid of San himself.

San looked utterly horrified, his cocoa scent turning bitter with guilt.

“It’s okay,” Yeosang said softly. “I’m fine,” he promised, both to Seonghwa, who was running concerned hands over him, and to San, who had distanced himself as far as the room would allow.

And for the first time in a long while, he found the words to be true. The fear that had gripped him a moment ago had faded the moment he’d seen San’s panicked expression. He knew ruts often amplified an alpha’s protective instincts, and he could see now just how deeply his momentary fear had affected San in this vulnerable state.

"You didn’t hurt me. I’m fine," he repeated, voice steady. Then he turned shyly to Seonghwa, leaning in to whisper against his ear.

“Is it okay?” he asked softly. 

Seonghwa pulled back slightly. “Hm?” 

Yeosang glanced at the others, all watching their interaction with quiet focus, and grew more self-conscious. He tugged Seonghwa closer again.

“If he scents me. Is it okay?” he whispered.

Seonghwa reared back with a frown, studying him intently. “It’s your choice,” the omega said at last.

Yeosang nearly growled with frustration. He pulled Seonghwa close once more, his gaze flickering nervously to the others in the room.

“They won’t be angry?” he asked, the words barely more than warm breath against Seonghwa’s skin.

It hadn’t been long since Yeosang had scented Hongjoong, but he hadn’t had to face the aftermath of the intimacy. Staff had been present the following day, and as soon as they’d returned to the city, Yeosang had fled to his parents’ home. No one had brought it up since, especially with Wooyoung’s confession overshadowing everything. But now, in the privacy of the Nesting Room, Yeosang felt the fear creeping in. The lines had blurred beyond recognition, and he was floundering.

Seonghwa didn’t respond for a long moment, and Yeosang pulled back to look at him properly. The elder’s brows were furrowed again, but this time there was pain in his expression.

“Hyung?” Yeosang asked, voice tinged with worry.

Seonghwa turned to him, gaze fierce. “They won’t,” he said, with quiet conviction. Yeosang blinked, surprised by the weight of emotion behind the words, but nodded.

Yeosang took a shaky breath, letting the words Seonghwa had spoken settle in his chest. San was still pressed to the wall, watching them with wary concern.

“San-ah.” Yeosang held out his hand in invitation, ignoring the soft coo from Wooyoung in the background and the way Seonghwa brushed his hair in silent praise. “Come here.”

San’s eyes widened slightly, relief blooming across his face. He still looked hesitant, caught between the urge to avoid causing further distress and the instinct to claim what he so clearly craved. After a tense pause, he finally made his way back towards Yeosang.

Yeosang exhaled, the breath shaky with relief, and the others seemed to breathe out with him, silently observing as San returned to his side.

San threw a leg over Yeosang’s thighs, utterly heedless of personal space in his current state, his weight pressing down as he settled atop him once more. He hovered there, eyes searching Yeosang’s face for any flicker of discomfort.

“Is this okay?” he asked, the intensity in his gaze tempered by a fierce need to protect.

With Seonghwa’s reassurances still fresh in his mind, the rest of the room seemed to fade away, leaving only San. Yeosang’s hand trembled slightly as he reached up, threading his fingers into San’s hair and pulling him down in a silent offering. 

San’s breath ghosted over Yeosang’s throat before he placed a soft kiss against his skin. He nosed along the curve of Yeosang’s neck, breath coming in soft, shaky exhales until he reached the scent gland. He paused, hovering over the stretch of skin as if waiting for the last sign that this was truly okay. Goosebumps rippled across his skin as San nuzzled and nosed at the sensitive spot, each gentle movement coaxing a reaction he hadn’t anticipated. The sensation was entirely unfamiliar. He could count on one hand the number of people who had ever scented him there, and he’d still have fingers left over.

His heartbeat quickened as his scent intensified, responding instinctively to San’s touch. The intimacy was almost overwhelming. The alpha’s gentle stimulation coaxed the gland to release more of his scent, the room gradually filling with a heady sweetness that was uniquely theirs. Yeosang forced his eyes open, unaware of when he had shut them to begin with. He scanned the room, suddenly needing reassurance that he wasn’t crossing any boundaries. His gaze landed on Mingi, who had been making his way over. The omega paused when their eyes met, momentarily startled, before breaking into a grin and crawling closer.

San paused too, lifting his head just enough to glance at Mingi before a low rumble vibrated from his chest. He buried his face back into Yeosang’s neck, grip tightening slightly, ignoring Mingi as he nestled up beside them.

Mingi didn’t seem bothered. He propped himself up on one elbow, reaching out to gently touch Yeosang’s cheek. "You okay?" he asked softly, his thumb brushing over the warm skin.

Yeosang’s cheeks grew hotter, the flush spreading under Mingi’s touch. He nodded, a little shy, unsure how to respond in the intimacy of the moment. Mingi’s grin softened into something warmer and he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Yeosang’s cheek. 

"Thanks for being here," he murmured, his breath warm against Yeosang’s skin.

Yeosang’s heart tripled its pace as he realised how close Mingi’s lips were to the corner of his mouth. Just a tiny shift left, and it would have been a real kiss.

"Ah," he gasped suddenly, unable to hold back the sound at the sharp sensation on his neck.

Mingi laughed, covering his mouth to hide his smile. He pulled back and gave San a light slap on the shoulder.

"Yeah, he’s a biter," Wooyoung giggled from above Yeosang’s head. Yeosang craned his neck to look up, but San took the opportunity to gently nip at his throat again. The bite was soft but sharp enough to make Yeosang shiver.

“San-ah,” Yeosang said in surprise, squirming slightly. They had to return to work soon, and if San kept this up, he’d leave a mark.

“Be nice,” Seonghwa scolded, though the grin on his face was unmistakably playful. San grumbled but relented, sitting up with a reluctant pout.

Wooyoung took the opportunity to shuffle closer, lifting Yeosang’s head with gentle hands. Yeosang let out a startled noise, instinctively tense, but didn’t resist as Wooyoung slid his leg beneath him, making himself a pillow. 

Seonghwa shifted as well, moving higher up the bed to rest his head on Wooyoung’s chest, then curled up against Yeosang’s side. The weight of him was familiar, grounding. 

Yeosang’s body relaxed before his mind could catch up. Wooyoung’s thigh was warm beneath his cheek, and Seonghwa’s chest pressed snugly against his side. Yeosang blinked up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the quiet ache in his chest.

San watched them, his gaze heavy with satisfaction, before glancing around the room. 

“Come closer,” he beckoned Yunho and Jongho, who were still leaning against the wall. Yunho smiled and gently nudged Jongho forward until the younger alpha settled down on Seonghwa’s other side, fitting perfectly into the growing pile.

“I guess it’s time for our dog pile,” Hongjoong chuckled as he joined them, finding his place next to Mingi and resting his head on the omega’s outstretched arm.

Yeosang swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper as he turned to Seonghwa.

“What are we doing?”

“Sleeping, hopefully. He’s been up this entire time,” Seonghwa replied, nodding towards San.

Yeosang observed closely as Yunho nestled in, curling against Hongjoong’s back and draping a long leg over both him and Mingi. Only once San seemed satisfied with the arrangement did he finally rise from Yeosang’s lap. Rather than settling on the outskirts of the pile, he moved down to Seonghwa’s legs, tapping the older omega’s calf in silent request. Seonghwa shifted onto his back, spreading his legs slightly, and San slotted himself into the space, resting his head across Seonghwa’s thigh and hip.

“Clingy kitty,” Seonghwa murmured, fingers threading gently through San’s hair as he scratched his scalp with quiet affection. San grumbled in response, nuzzling into Seonghwa’s hip with a soft huff before settling back down contently. 

San lay close enough to drape an arm around both Seonghwa’s leg and Yeosang’s torso, and he did so without hesitation, pulling them together with quiet possessiveness.

Yeosang lay still, careful not to shift too much and disturb the bodies pressed against him. The warmth and closeness of the pack was comforting, but it stirred the hollow ache that had settled low in his chest. In the quiet intimacy of the moment, he found himself wishing that he still had his bonds. 

Despite the pain those bonds had once caused, he missed the echoes of their emotions threading through his own consciousness. If he had learned sooner that he wasn’t a beta, perhaps he wouldn’t have had to sever them at all. If he had the bonds now, there would be no pain. Perhaps he could have experienced this rare moment of closeness without the aching sense of loss. Instead, he lay there, staring at a sunset without colour.

“Ugh, the light,” Wooyoung groaned, cutting through Yeosang’s darkening thoughts. He giggled, covering his mouth as the others erupted into a chorus of groans and complaints, followed by at least two quick “not it”s.

"I’ll get it," Yeosang offered, beginning to sit up. San’s arm tightened around him, blocking him from rising.

“No!” nearly everyone chorused at once.

“You can’t move if you’re in the middle,” Yunho explained, already getting up and stalking towards the light switch. “We really need to get those clapping lights or something,” he muttered as he flicked it off.

“It’ll just become club lights in here,” Jongho giggled. 

Yeosang’s face burned as the room erupted into cackles and playful admonishments, Yunho returning to the dog pile with an exaggerated sigh. As everyone quieted once again, Yeosang felt something else settle in his chest.

It felt oddly like belonging.

Chapter Text

Hongjoong awoke to hushed whispers and the tickle of hair brushing his nose. Groggily, he took stock of his surroundings. He was still sandwiched between the two tallest members of ATEEZ, though they’d shifted at some point during the night. Now, his back was warmed by the omega behind him, Mingi’s arm draped over his waist to embrace the figure nestled against his chest. Yunho was curled into him, head tucked beneath Hongjoong’s chin as he breathed evenly. A wave of fondness swept through Hongjoong, and he gently patted the stray hairs back onto Yunho’s head.

A quiet, playful murmur caught his attention, reminding him of what had stirred him from sleep.

"Wooyoung-ah, they’re going to wake up," Yeosang whispered, voice tinged with mild exasperation. 

"So?" Wooyoung whispered back. "I just want to give my very cute boyfriend a morning kiss." 

Hongjoong’s lips curved into a smile. He’d worried the two hadn’t had time to explore their new relationship properly, but he should’ve known better than to doubt Wooyoung’s proactiveness.

"Who said I'm your boyfriend?" Yeosang retorted, making Hongjoong smile wider. Yeosang also seemed to be quite comfortable with the way things were progressing, seeing as he had returned to his dry humour. 

"Me," Wooyoung replied without hesitation.

There was a faint shuffling sound, no doubt Wooyoung leaning in for a kiss. Hongjoong could easily picture Yeosang half-heartedly resisting, lips twitching with amusement. Curious, he shifted slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the scene. The movement drew attention. Yunho lifted his head, craning back to meet his gaze. Clear brown eyes met his own, warm and alert.

Hongjoong raised a brow in silent inquiry.

“Let’s not interrupt them,” Yunho mouthed carefully. He waited for Hongjoong’s agreement before settling back into his embrace. 

“Did you sleep well?” Hongjoong whispered, giving Yunho’s neck a gentle squeeze. The Alpha had clearly been awake for some time.

Yunho hummed softly in reply, pressing a light kiss to Hongjoong’s jaw before burrowing his face back against the curve of his throat. As Hongjoong lay quietly, he felt the others begin to stir, their bonds flickering to life one by one. Like Yunho and Hongjoong, they remained silent, choosing not to draw attention to themselves to allow Yeosang the illusion of privacy.

They lay there in companionable stillness, basking in each other’s warmth until Wooyoung and Yeosang’s murmurs faded into the hush of the room. Then, with a languid stretch, Yunho pulled away, arms reaching overhead, his shirt lifting to reveal a sliver of skin that caught Hongjoong’s gaze. Mingi’s arm lifted lazily, reaching out to poke Yunho’s side with a sleepy smirk.

“Morning, Princess,” Yunho laughed, leaning over to press a soft kiss to Mingi’s cheek. Unable to resist the pale stretch of skin within reach, Hongjoong lifted his head and nipped gently at the curve of Yunho’s neck, earning a quiet chuckle in response.

“I’m hungry,” the omega grumbled, voice thick and low with sleep.

“I’ll make breakfast,” Yunho offered quickly, leaning down to press a gentle morning kiss to Hongjoong’s lips as well. “Any requests?”

“Pancakes!” Jongho’s voice piped up from somewhere above them before Hongjoong could respond.

“Pancakes? What are you, American?” Seonghwa teased from across the room.

Hongjoong chuckled. It was an odd choice, perhaps, but given how often they travelled, it wasn’t particularly out of character to crave.

“Pancakes sound good,” Yunho agreed easily. “Let’s do an English-style breakfast today, then.”

“Oh… sounds good,” Hongjoong said carefully, beginning to detangle himself from the pile of limbs to go wash up.

"I'll make the pancakes,” Wooyoung piped up. “You always manage to burn them!" 

Hongjoong silently thanked him for the sacrifice, even as Yunho gave the most devastating pout. Yunho was an excellent cook when it came to Korean cuisine, but there was no denying that foreign dishes weren’t exactly his forte. It made absolutely no sense that he could whip up jeon with flawless precision, yet somehow char pancakes every single time.

“Then…  I want an omelette,” San chimed in.

“Make it yourself, big guy,” Wooyoung shot back playfully.

Hongjoong parted his lips to rebuff him out of habit, then paused, the words catching in his throat.

San could actually leave the Nest today. They all could.

The realisation settled over him slowly. For the first time since they’d established an official nest, there was no need for anyone to stay behind. No hushed conversations about who might quietly slip out to check on Yeosang. No careful tiptoeing around his name, afraid it might fracture someone’s composure. Today, he was here, curled in Wooyoung’s arms with a small, sleepy smile as he watched them banter. 

Hongjoong’s heart warmed at the sight, though he couldn’t quite swallow the ache. There had been many times when the Nest had felt more like a cage than a refuge. But now, with Yeosang seated among them, the walls no longer pressed in. 

It felt surreal, how easily the Nest had reshaped itself into something that finally resembled home. 

Hongjoong averted his gaze, the need to pull Yeosang into his own arms rising suddenly. He gently extricated himself from the long limbs of the two tallest members and slipped off the bed, grounding himself before the feeling could overwhelm him.

“Alright, let’s get breakfast started,” he clapped.

Breakfast turned into quite a rambunctious affair. Delightfully so. The table was laden with dishes each member had contributed to: Yunho's golden French toast, Wooyoung's fluffy pancakes, Jongho's neatly cut fruits, San's omelettes, Seonghwa's scrambled eggs, Hongjoong's crispy breakfast potatoes, and Mingi's freshly brewed coffee. 

Yeosang, though eager to help, had been unanimously vetoed from anything involving heat. His resulting pout had nearly swayed Hongjoong, but Seonghwa had stepped in with a firm smile and delegated him to setting the table instead. 

As Hongjoong looked at the spread, he couldn't help but wonder if they'd actually manage to finish it all.

"Thank you for the meal," Seonghwa said, seven voices chiming in after him. The room fell into a gentle hush, broken only by the clink of utensils and the softly spoken requests for “syrup, please” or “pass the salt.”

Hongjoong smiled to himself, savouring the rare, festive atmosphere. Soon, they’d be knee-deep in comeback preparations, and indulgent breakfasts like this would become a luxury. Even sitting down together would be rare. 

He took in the scene quietly, committing it to memory to tide him over for the endless studio nights awaiting him. Everyone looked relaxed and content, their faces still slightly swollen with sleep. Across from him, Yeosang sat with his hair adorably tousled, lips jutting out as he chewed with sleepy focus. A deep warmth spread through Hongjoong's chest, his Alpha purring with satisfaction at seeing his loved ones gathered, safe, and at peace. 

Cleanup was just as lively as breakfast had been. San took charge, directing the omegas to shower and relax while the alphas handled the dishwasher and packed away the leftovers. Hongjoong watched the sculpted alpha move about with an unusually serene smile.

"Someone's chirpy," Hongjoong teased. 

San’s grin widened as he pulled him into a hug so tight it bordered on uncomfortable. Hongjoong laughed through the squeeze, patting his back firmly until San finally let go.

"Sorry, I just needed to get that out," San chuckled breathlessly. Hongjoong patted his cheek in understanding. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this calm during a rut,” he mused, tugging playfully at San’s cheeks to stretch his smile even further.

Even when they’d managed to distract him in the past, San had rarely smiled. His body had always remained taut with tension, and his laughter brittle. It was refreshing to see the lightness in his form and the easy laughter that lit up his whole face as his eyes disappeared into crescents. Hongjoong felt something loosen in his own chest.

“I’ve never felt this calm, that’s why,” San replied, pressing a hand to his sternum with quiet emphasis.

Hongjoong nodded empathetically, the ghost of past ruts passing through him like a shadow. 

“It’s just… that feeling… It’s gone,” San added, his grin returning with quiet certainty. Hongjoong couldn’t help but mirror it.

“I’m glad,” he said softly.

San pulled him in for another hug, this one far more gentle, and pressed a kiss to the crown of his head.

“If you’re done being mushy, get back to work,” Yunho teased, tossing a dishcloth at them with a smirk. 

They laughed, separating with one last kiss, and returned to helping Jongho and Yunho finish the cleanup.

Once done, the four of them headed to the Nesting Room to shower, a luxury during this usually tumultuous time. Judging from the wet shower, the others had already come and gone. 

Their shower took longer than usual, thanks to San’s insistence on washing them all. Though Hongjoong didn’t particularly appreciate the lack of autonomy, he relented, as did the others. They all understood the pressing need that came with ruts; the need to provide, to care, and to protect. This was simply one of the ways San fulfilled that need, and Hongjoong would loathe to deny him anything.

But when they returned to the Nest, the moment of peace had passed.

Mingi sat nervously on the edge of the bed, fingers twitching against his thighs. Hongjoong reached out instinctively and found Mingi’s bond writhing with agitation.

“Where are the others?” San asked, stepping in behind him.

"Uh…" Mingi scratched his head awkwardly, frustration flickering in his eyes. Hongjoong’s heart twisted uneasily.

San tensed, a growl slipping out as he spun around, ready to leave, only to be stopped by Yunho's hand on his arm.

"You, wait," Yunho said, pointing firmly at the irritated alpha. Hongjoong stilled beside him, trusting Yunho’s instincts.

San ground his jaw but halted, muscles taut with restraint. Satisfied he wouldn’t go storming off, Yunho turned to Mingi and sat beside him on the bed.

"What happened, Princess?" he asked gently, sitting beside him on the bed.

“I— I don’t know,” Mingi said, looking defeated. “After his shower, Yeosang said he’d be in his room if we needed him. Seonghwa-hyung and Wooyoungie are trying to get him to come back.”

Hongjoong and Jongho exchanged a glance, a hundred words were said in silence.

Without a word, Hongjoong slipped past the others and left the Nesting Room, hearing the soft click of the door as Jongho quietly shut it behind him. He strode down the hall, mind racing. Everything had seemed fine, hadn’t it? Why had Yeosang suddenly retreated? 

Yeosang’s door was already open when Hongjoong arrived. Seonghwa stood in the doorway, arms crossed tightly as he gnawed at his lower lip. 

"What’s wrong, hun?" Hongjoong asked softly. Seonghwa’s head snapped towards him, eyes flooding with relief. 

"He won’t say," Seonghwa replied, shrugging helplessly.

Hongjoong brushed past him, patting his hip in quiet reassurance before stepping further into the room.

The sight of Yeosang on his bed, sunlight streaming in and casting a soft glow around him, caught him off guard. There was a fragile grace to him, something aching and exquisite, and it made Hongjoong’s breath stutter. Yeosang’s expression was heart-wrenching as he looked at Wooyoung with quiet restraint. As soon as he noticed Hongjoong, his gaze dropped, fingers fidgeting restlessly in his lap. Wooyoung glanced up, helplessly shaking his head.

"Yeosang-ah," Hongjoong said gently, voice low and careful. “Baby, what happened? What’s wrong?”

Yeosang’s gaze had flickered upwards at the pet name just long enough for Hongjoong to catch the confusion in his gaze. 

"Nothing," Yeosang mumbled, twisting his fingers together.

Hongjoong observed the nervous habit for a moment, mind racing to pinpoint what could’ve triggered this sudden retreat.

"Can I sit?" he asked Yeosang, approaching the edge of his bed. 

He kept his tone calm and light, settling down when Yeosang nodded without meeting his eyes. "Is there a reason you don't want to come back to the Nest?" he asked softly.

Yeosang shrugged one shoulder, the movement barely perceptible.

“Sang-ah,” Hongjoong murmured, leaning forward to gently catch Yeosang’s chin. “Look at me, please?”

He coaxed Yeosang’s face upwards with a featherlight touch. Yeosang didn’t resist, but his eyes landed on the tip of Hongjoong’s nose rather than meeting his gaze.

He forced himself to see past the careful mask Yeosang had slipped behind. He’d spent too long accepting the composed and untouchable version Yeosang offered and refused to do so a moment longer. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Hongjoong said gently. “Do you need some time alone?”

He wondered if perhaps the younger had gotten overwhelmed after spending the night nestled in the Nest, only to be swept into a boisterous breakfast with the entire pack. It was his first time joining them for a meal during a cycle, after all. Maybe the intensity of San’s pheromones had flooded his senses, leaving him unmoored and adrift in a space that still felt unfamiliar. They were unbonded, after all, and that kind of closeness could be disorienting.

Yeosang shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes. Hongjoong released his chin to tuck the strands behind his ear. 

“Come on, tell me. Sannie’s waiting for us,” he coaxed, hoping the mention of San might draw Yeosang out. He’d come for him last night, after all. 

Instead, Yeosang’s face paled, distress flickering across his features.

“Oh! It’s okay! Go to him. I didn’t mean to…” he stammered, gesturing wildly towards the door as if ready to usher them out. “I’m fine, I promise.”

“We will, don’t worry about that,” Seonghwa interjected quickly. “He’s fine too. He's got the others.”

The guilt etched onto Yeosang's face only deepened. 

"Nothing's wrong," he said, looking back at Hongjoong. "I just... I didn’t want to overstay my welcome, that's all. You guys should—"

"Overstay?" Wooyoung cut in, incredulous. "How could you overstay anything? You're under-staying right now!" 

Hongjoong nodded firmly in agreement, heart aching at the words. Yeosang needed to know that he was wanted. Always. No matter what. That his place in the pack wasn’t conditional or temporary. This insecurity was a monster Hongjoong had helped create, and one that must die by his own hand. 

Before Yeosang could respond, San appeared in the doorway, Jongho lingering sheepishly behind him. Without a word, San strode into the room, his steps purposeful and predatory. Despite the aggression in his movements, his bond was only mildly agitated, so Hongjoong didn’t intervene as San leaned past him and grabbed Yeosang by the arm.

“Wait—!” Yeosang exclaimed, voice rising in alarm as San bent low and hoisted him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Hyung!” he yelped, looking to Hongjoong for help.

Hongjoong turned to Jongho for answers. The young alpha was usually measured and level-headed, rarely one to act without reason. And yet, by his lack of reaction, he’d clearly sanctioned this.

Instead, Jongho just slapped San's bare arm, the sound of skin echoing in the quiet space. "Don't be such a brute," he chided lightly.

Yeosang blubbered incoherently, though he didn’t resist, just lying limply over San’s shoulders. 

"What are you guys doing?" Wooyoung asked, confusion etched across his face.

“Being a little more proactive,” Jongho replied with a wry smile, trailing after San.

Hongjoong's brows shot up, slightly taken aback. The words were so unlike Jongho. Then again, Yeosang seemed to be having that effect on him lately.

He stared at the empty doorway for a moment, both Wooyoung and Seonghwa stunned into silence beside him.

“Well,” Hongjoong sighed, rising to his feet. “Let’s go see what that’s about.”

Hongjoong briefly thought he should be far more stressed than he was. If this had happened two months ago, San wouldn’t have made it through the doorway, let alone left the room with the omega slung over his shoulder. But now, Hongjoong found himself tempted to let it all play out. He was tired of fighting his instincts, tired of trying to choreograph every step. Perhaps a little chaos was exactly what the doctor ordered.

They entered the Nesting Room just in time to see San gently toss Yeosang onto the bed beside Yunho. Yeosang scrambled upright, attempting to stand, only for the man already on the bed to catch him by the waist and tug him firmly into his lap.

"Yunho!" Yeosang gasped, whipping his head to the side to try to see his face. 

“What are we doing?” Seonghwa asked slowly, his tone light and casual despite the concern etched into his features.

Hongjoong hid a smile, pretending to rub his mouth. Seonghwa sounded exactly like an exasperated kindergarten teacher catching their students mid-mischief.

“He’s running again,” San said, pointing at Yeosang with all the righteous indignation of someone deeply offended.

"I'm not running!" Yeosang argued, trying to get up once again, only for Yunho to pull him back down with infuriating ease. The guilt that had clouded his expression earlier was gone, replaced by heated incredulity. 

He pointed back at San, just as accusingly. "I was trying to give you guys some space!" 

Hongjoong mentally applauded himself for not stopping San earlier. The alpha’s boldness had clearly caught Yeosang off guard, and in that moment of surprise, he’d stopped policing himself. The truth had slipped out, uninhibited.

“Space for what?” San snapped, too irritated to read between the lines.

Hongjoong reached out, placing a calming hand on San’s arm, gently urging him to ease back.

Yeosang blushed, shrinking into Yunho’s hold, his head ducking shyly as if the weight of his revelation finally caught up with him.

“Nothing, never mind,” Yeosang mumbled.

Yunho’s lips pursed tightly, but Hongjoong could still see the curve of the smile he was trying to suppress.

"Oh," San breathed. The emptiness of his reply seemed to jolt the pack into motion, each member rushing to fill the silence.

“He’s fine without it,” Seonghwa offered quickly, his tone gentle, echoed by murmurs of agreement.

“Just join us then,” Wooyoung added, a beat behind the others. His words landed with far more weight than intended in the sudden silence of the room.

Despite the startled looks from most of the pack, Hongjoong wasn’t too surprised. Wooyoung had been growing bolder with Yeosang over the past few days, his easy confidence unfurling in small but steady increments. This felt like a natural step forward. Still, it was earlier than Hongjoong had anticipated.

“Wooyoung!” he scolded instinctively, his voice rising in unison with the others.

The admonishment had been instinctive, but the moment it left his mouth, Hongjoong realised it had been a mistake. Rather than the awkward discomfort he’d expected to see, he was instead faced with Yeosang’s deflating frame, shoulders curling inward, and his expression shuttering.  

The reprimand hadn’t been for him, but Yeosang clearly heard it as disapproval, a resounding no to the unspoken question hanging in the air.

“What?” Wooyoung snapped, arms crossing tightly over his chest, his stance making it crystal clear he wasn’t about to back down. “If he knows, it might make him feel better.”

“Or not,” Mingi countered, shifting down onto his knees so he could meet Wooyoung’s glare head-on. Yeosang’s mouth tightened almost imperceptibly.

“Mingi,” Hongjoong warned, voice low. Yeosang was not reacting well to the perceived rejection, and the last thing he wanted was for the omega to feel even more unwanted.

“We won’t know anything unless we talk about it,” Wooyoung argued, heat rising in his voice as he glared at the omega on the bed. “He already left the pack. What else do you have to lose?”

“Still, you could be more tactful,” Mingi insisted, tone clipped.

"Enough," Hongjoong snapped, startling them out of their staring contest. Mingi grumbled and sank back onto his heels obediently, but Wooyoung turned his defiant glare on him, clearly ready to argue. Hongjoong raised a finger in warning, silencing him with a look before shifting his attention to Yeosang.

The latter was watching the exchange with cautious eyes, his body still and unreadable, even as Yunho’s fingers traced soothing patterns along his arms.

Staring into those glossy brown eyes, Hongjoong found it increasingly difficult to hold back. His thoughts pressed against the back of his throat, begging to be set free. He wanted to be diplomatic, not just for Yeosang’s sake but for the pack’s. Wooyoung’s invitation had been bold, but it hadn’t come with the nuance Yeosang might need.

How did he make it clear that they wanted him without making him feel cornered? How did he offer everything without demanding anything?

“What Wooyoungie was trying to say is that we would love to have you in our—” Hongjoong gestured vaguely to the pack, his hand faltering mid-air. As he spoke, a wave of stress and anxiety surged through the pack bonds. The emotions bled together, indistinct and overwhelming, until he couldn’t tell whose they were.

His own heart was thundering in his chest, each beat loud enough to drown out thought. Nerves settled low in his stomach, heavy and twisting. He wasn’t sure how to phrase it. How did he wrap the depth of his feelings in words that wouldn’t overwhelm Yeosang or misrepresent the others?

“I meant it when I said we would have you in whatever capacity we could.” Even as the words left his mouth, he felt the tremor of uncertainty ripple through the pack. 

Somehow, he misstepped again. Yeosang physically flinched at his words and shook his head roughly, Yunho having to lean back to avoid being hit. 

"It’s okay," Yeosang said thickly. 

Hongjoong looked around in a panic, not sure if he’d been wrong about Yeosang’s reaction or if he had somehow confused the omega. 

"No, no, no— he doesn’t mean it like that," Wooyoung rushed to say, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Jongho added quickly. “He just means we’ll go as far as you’re comfortable.”

Hongjoong nodded, grateful for the support, though he wasn’t exactly sure what was being corrected. 

“Whether it’s friends, pack, or lovers,” Seonghwa said softly, cheeks blooming pink, “whatever you can give, we’ll take.”

“Maybe it’s a bit greedy,” Mingi added, voice low and earnest, “but we want it all.”

Yeosang’s eyes widened, his mouth parting in surprise. “Lovers?” he echoed, the word fragile on his tongue.

Chapter Text

“Lovers?” he echoed, stunned.

Seonghwa nodded once, his face perfectly neutral. Yunho's arms loosened around him, and the sudden lack of restraint was almost dizzying. He felt untethered, cast adrift with nothing to hold onto.

Yeosang glanced around the room, trying to read the atmosphere better. Wooyoung’s playful invitation had been hijacked by the rest of his pack, and now he wasn’t sure how to react. He once again found himself missing the quiet threads of emotion that used to hum beneath his skin. Navigating this scenario would have been much easier if he could just reach for their bonds and feel the slightest echo of their emotions. 

What would he have felt? Amusement? Worry? Repulsion?  

‘Whatever capacity,’ Hongjoong had said. Yeosang had initially taken it as a weak appeasement, like Hongjoong was dangling everything he wanted just to soothe him. It made him feel like a spoiled child, wearing down his parents until they gave in and handed him something that didn’t belong to him.

But Wooyoung and Jongho had been so quick to refute that interpretation. Seonghwa had even offered the label ‘lovers’ so easily. Did they actually mean it?

Carefully, Yeosang studied their faces.

San’s brows were raised slightly, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Wooyoung’s grin was far more obvious, mischievous, smug, and unbothered. Mingi, however, avoided his gaze entirely, fingers toying absently with the bedsheets. Hongjoong stood with his arms crossed, watching him with a focus that mirrored Yeosang’s own. Jongho leaned against the wall, posture relaxed, expression unreadable. Behind him, though Yeosang couldn’t see his face, Yunho’s scent remained light and fresh, untouched by turmoil.

The fragile hope that had bloomed in his chest wilted defeatedly. 

His omega recoiled like a wounded animal, curling tightly into itself as he scrambled to rebuild the crumbling wall around his heart. They were all watching him with a cruel curiosity, only a faint thread of discomfort leaked from the joint scents.

The silence grew heavier with every passing second, pressing down until he was nearly buried beneath it.

Finally, he let out a laugh.

Seonghwa’s expression faltered, confusion flickering across his features. That only made Yeosang laugh harder, the sound spilling out uncontrollably. His shoulders shook with the effort to suppress it, but it was no use. If he didn’t laugh, he knew he would break down.

“What?” Jongho asked, straightening from his position against the wall.

“Nothing, nothing,” Yeosang replied quickly, covering his face with one hand as tears burned at the corners of his eyes. He laughed again, wiping them away before they could fall. “Ah, that’s a new one,” he said, breath hitching as he tried to steady himself.

“Why? What’s funny?” Mingi asked, his deep voice cracking with uncertainty. The tall omega looked crestfallen, eyes glistening and lips pulled into a soft frown.

Yeosang blinked at him, startled. The laughter died in his throat.

Now it was his turn to look confused.

He clamped his mouth shut, suddenly aware that no one else was laughing. He looked around again, searching their faces for anything that might help him understand.

“I don’t get it…” he said finally, voice small. He turned to Yunho, helpless. “They’re serious?” he asked, heart pounding, afraid to even voice the question.

Yunho’s expression twisted, and he gathered Yeosang into his arms once more, holding him close. Where moments ago he’d been cast adrift, the alpha’s embrace anchored him again, supporting him as he struggled to make sense of the storm brewing before him.

“Can’t we be?” he murmured.

“Darling,” Seonghwa said thickly. “You know me. I would never joke about something like this.” His brows furrowed, mirroring the ache blooming in Yeosang’s chest.

“All of you?” Yeosang scoffed, glancing around the room once more.

Hesitant nods and hushed murmurs of agreement met his disbelief.

Yeosang laughed again, this time hollow and breathless. Warning sirens blared in his mind as all of his wildest dreams were laid out before him like an offering. There was a catch. There had to be.

His thoughts raced, the past years flashing by like a catalogue of missed cues and quiet heartbreaks. Why now? Why were they suddenly interested in him? There were no clues, no moments he could recall that might have foreshadowed this shift.

His gaze landed on Wooyoung.

Their budding relationship was the only recent change. Was it possible that the pack were struggling with the change? Had they decided to absorb him into their polycule simply to avoid possibly Wooyoung dating an outsider?

No, there was nothing logical about that. Yunho had made it very clear that they viewed his relationship with Wooyoung as existing within the pack, regardless of Yeosang’s formal status.

“Why?” The question slipped out before he could stop it.

None of it made sense.

Wooyoung, at least, he could understand. Their relationship had always been different. For so long, Wooyoung had been his solace, and Yeosang his in return. They had breathed, cried, and dreamed together for nearly half his life. For Wooyoung to fall in love with him, no matter how sudden, still made sense.

But the others? 

Yeosang could trace back the exact moments he’d fallen for them.

He still remembered the way the sun had warmed his skin that late summer afternoon, sitting beside Yunho on a park bench after a gruelling day of practice, basking in the quiet comfort of existing together. The smile on Jongho’s face was engraved in his heart, the way the younger had found him crying after being ridiculed by their vocal instructor, offering nothing but a hot drink from the vending machine and his unwavering presence. He couldn’t forget the image of Mingi, shy and hopeful, holding out a freshly laundered T-shirt and asking Yeosang to scent it for his first solo nest. That moment had felt sacred, like being trusted with something fragile and deeply personal.

Every single memory was etched into the very fabric of his soul, so vivid it hurt to recall. Because he’d always believed he didn’t mean the same to them.

But now?

Now they claimed to want him. After all these years. In whatever capacity he could give.

Then… was it because he was an omega? 

Yeosang carefully considered the pack's behavior since his return from the hospital. They had all changed, whether it was something as small as Jongho inviting him to hang alone or something drastic like San’s need for him in the Nesting Room.

Each gesture had felt like a thread tugging at the edges of his defences.

He’d been sceptical at first, but somewhere along the way, he’d stopped questioning it. He’d let his guard down and allowed himself to believe, just a little.

And now, Yeosang was faced with this confession from the pack that had him scrambling to rebuild the walls he’d let crumble. There had to be something else going on. Some reason. Some catch. He was too terrified of what would happen to his heart if he let himself believe them fully.

"—sang-ah," Seonghwa’s voice broke through his spiralling thoughts.

He was right in front of him now, kneeling on the bed, his face mere inches away. Yeosang flinched, startled by the sudden proximity. Yunho’s arms tightened around him in a quiet reassurance.

"Were you listening?" Seonghwa asked, tilting his head slightly, concern etched into his features.

Yeosang cursed under his breath as his vision blurred. He’d drowned in his thoughts, unable to hear anything beyond the thundering beat of his own heart. He shook his head, mumbling a distracted, “No, sorry.”

He felt utterly out of his depth, flailing in a sea of emotion with no sense of where the surface was. Something in Seonghwa’s pained expression made it all the harder to keep himself afloat. He wanted to throw himself into the older man’s arms, to let Seonghwa make sense of everything the way only he ever seemed able to. He wanted the comfort and safety that lived in Seonghwa’s touch.

He quickly averted his gaze, afraid the intensity of his want might be visible to the naked eye.

“No, no. Look at Hyung,” Seonghwa said firmly, catching him by the jaw.

The gesture was uncharacteristically rough. Seonghwa usually treated him like he was fragile glass, susceptible to breaking under the slightest pressure. Now, though, he forced Yeosang’s face upwards and, before Yeosang could process anything, Seonghwa had captured his mouth in a scorching kiss. 

Yeosang froze, eyes wide and slightly crossed as he tried to make sense of what was happening. Seonghwa was kissing him?

A gentle nip to his lower lip had Yeosang’s senses roaring back to life. Seonghwa was kissing him!

Seonghwa didn’t give Yeosang a chance to form another coherent thought. His kiss burned like wildfire, spreading with a heat so intense it scorched away every lingering thread of clarity Yeosang might have clung to. And yet, despite the blaze, Yeosang felt as though he’d finally surfaced, Seonghwa’s mouth holding him afloat in the chaos.

Seonghwa’s grip on his jaw tightened, fingers firm but trembling faintly. Every movement of his lips was consuming, steeped in raw need that surged through Yeosang like a tide threatening to pull him under.

He whimpered helplessly, his fingers clawing at the arms wrapped around his waist. Yunho rumbled behind him, his chest vibrating against Yeosang’s back. His grip on Yeosang’s waist clenched and unclenched in rhythm with the spike of Yeosang’s scent, grounding him in the moment. 

Yeosang’s breath hitched as Seonghwa devoured him without a trace of his usual gentleness. He pressed forward, pushing Yeosang into the solid wall of Yunho’s body. Seonghwa’s fingers slid from his jaw to tangle in his hair, holding him in place with a desperation that almost felt like fear. 

Yeosang’s hands clutched at Yunho’s arm, fingers twisting the fabric of his shirt in search of something solid. Yunho’s hand came to rest atop his, long fingers enveloping both of Yeosang’s in a firm grip.

When Seonghwa finally drew back, his breathing was ragged, chest rising and falling in time with Yeosang’s. His forehead rested lightly against Yeosang’s, their proximity amplifying the intensity of his dark stare. 

Seonghwa’s eyes burned with the same fire Yeosang had only ever seen when he performed on stage. His skin prickled under the weight of it, every nerve ending alight with sensation. He felt frozen in place, caught in a spell he couldn’t break, like prey held captive under the unyielding stare of a predator.

"This isn’t something new, Yeosang-ah," Seonghwa murmured, his voice hoarse. "I— we’ve felt this way for years. We just weren’t sure how to say it when we weren’t sure how you felt about us." 

Did this mean they knew now? Yeosang tried to ask, but his voice cracked on the first syllable, and he quickly clamped his mouth shut.

Seonghwa’s lips lifted into a soft, teasing smirk as he released Yeosang’s hair and sat back on his heels, giving him back control of his head. 

“I know it’s very sudden and lacking in any kind of decorum,” Yunho said, his deep voice steady as his thumb brushed lightly against the back of Yeosang’s hand. “But it just feels like the longer we drag this out, the more unsure you feel about where you fit in.”

Yeosang tugged lightly at Yunho’s hold, subconsciously testing it. The alpha’s grip only firmed in response. Oddly, the possessiveness settled him. His omega preened at the silent display of strength, soothed by the certainty in Yunho’s touch.

“Even if you don’t like us that way, or if you—I don’t know…” Mingi’s voice faltered. He was fiddling with the edge of the bedsheet, fingers moving restlessly. 

The motion registered belatedly in Yeosang’s mind: nervous fiddling. He hadn’t been indifferent to the confession, as Yeosang had assumed earlier. He’d been trying to mask his nerves.

Guilt twisted in Yeosang’s stomach. He gnawed at his lip, unsure how to soothe the short-haired omega.

“We figured it’s a risk worth taking,” Mingi continued, voice quieter now, “if it helps make things clearer for you. Even if you only like Wooyoungie, we’d—”

"I like you too," Yeosang blurted out, the words tumbling from his lips before his brain had the chance to intervene. 

The weight of what he’d just confessed hit him like a freight train the moment Mingi’s expression lit up with relief. He hadn’t planned it at all. His only thought had been to erase the uncertainty etched on Mingi’s face and smooth over the apprehension that tugged at the omega’s pout.

Yeosang’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp, and his head dropped forward as his knees curled instinctively to his chest. He hid behind his arms, his face burning with mortification. Years of carefully guarded feelings and secrets he’d vowed to keep buried had unravelled in mere seconds. 

All because he couldn’t bear to see Mingi look so unsure.

Shyness crashed over him like a tidal wave. Doubt curled inward, twisting through his thoughts with cruel precision. Surely he’d misread things. It just wasn’t possible that they all felt the same. 

“Only Mingi?” Yunho’s voice broke through the spiral, light and teasing, though laced with genuine curiosity. The warmth of his breath tickled Yeosang’s already burning ear, making him squirm. He shook his head, but the words refused to come, lodged somewhere between his heart and throat. 

Yunho loosened his hold, dropping his arms to give Yeosang space, but the omega instinctively reached for his hand without thinking. It wasn’t until he had guided Yunho’s arm back around his waist that he realised what he’d done. He dropped it quickly as the alpha behind him let out an incredulous laugh, the sound light and full of pure joy.  

"That’s enough of an answer for me right now," Yunho said, the gentle vibrations of his laughter resonating through Yeosang as he held him close.

“Not for me,” San said quickly, rushing over and shoving Seonghwa out of the way. The elder fell back dramatically, arms flailing, but Yeosang didn’t get the chance to ask if he was alright before San was in front of him.

“What about me? Do you like me too?” San asked, taking both his hands with an urgency that made Yeosang’s breath catch.

San sat eagerly on his heels, eyes wide and hopeful, looking more like an oversized puppy than the feline he was so often compared to. His eagerness startled a laugh out of Yeosang, and he quickly covered his mouth, euphoric joy rising inside him.

“Maybe tell him how you feel first, Sannie. That worked for me,” Wooyoung chimed in, voice light and teasing as he watched with the same smug expression.

“I love you,” San blurted. “Probably more than anyone else.”

Yeosang blinked, somehow still blindsided by all the confessions he continued to receive. The word love was overwhelming, despite him sharing the feeling. He’d carried it for so long it had woven itself into the fabric of who he was but hearing it spoken aloud and directed at him made it real in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to imagine.

“Hey!” Hongjoong and Jongho exclaimed in unison, affronted. 

San shot them a flat stare, unimpressed, before turning back to Yeosang with unwavering focus.

Yeosang giggled. Actually giggled. The sound bubbled up unbidden, cracking through the tension that had gripped his chest for years. He clapped a hand over his mouth, startled by the sound. 

San loved him too. Maybe they all did.

It didn’t make sense, and the questions clawed at the edges of his mind, but the warmth in his chest drowned it out. 

“I love you,” San said again, voice low.

“O-okay,” Yeosang replied weakly.

San’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned in closer, a familiar glint in his gaze. It was the same glint he wore when teasingly demanding Yeosang be his, though there was something sharper beneath it now. 

“I love you,” he repeated, more firmly this time. 

Yeosang’s brain stuttered. Was he meant to say it back? Was that what San was waiting for? The word love felt too heavy on his tongue, too terrifying to offer so casually, even in this moment.

So instead, he reached for something that had always come easier between them.

“I—I’m yours,” he blurted, the words tumbling out with the ease of habit.

“Good enough,” San smirked, lunging forward and knocking both Yunho and Yeosang backwards as he buried his face in Yeosang’s neck, scenting him enthusiastically.

Yeosang yelped, back arching awkwardly as he sprawled over the tall alpha. San’s hands skimmed his sides, grazing sensitive skin and drawing out a breathless giggle. Yeosang squirmed, his laughter turning maniacal under San's persistent assault.

“San-ah, stop it,” Yunho groaned, grabbing Yeosang’s hips in a bruising hold to still him. It was no use. San was relentless, burying his face in Yeosang’s neck as his lips brushed the sensitive gland, as his fingers danced along his sides. Yeosang squirmed uncontrollably, laughter spilling from him in breathless bursts as his body twisted in Yunho’s lap.

“Alright,” Hongjoong laughed, stepping in and tugging San back by the shirt collar. “That’s enough from you. I don’t want you getting him high on your pheromones. We need to talk.”

“I’m barely releasing anything,” San protested, pulling back with a deadly pout and shooting the Alpha a wounded look.

“Pack meeting?” Yunho asked, already shifting beneath Yeosang. He nudged him upright, and Yeosang scrambled the rest of the way off, trying to ignore the sudden shock of rejection that washed over him. It seemed Yunho was done cuddling him, and Yeosang reminded himself he had to be okay with that. Just because he was maybe a little touch-starved didn’t mean it was anyone else’s responsibility.

“Nothing official,” Hongjoong said placatingly. “We can talk here.” 

Before Yeosang could settle, however, Yunho was hauling him back into his lap with effortless strength. Yeosang let out a surprised noise as the alpha dropped him between his legs and wrapped his arms around him again, firm and possessive.

He didn’t know how the alpha had so much brute strength despite his lean frame and the fact that he didn’t work out outside of dance. Still, the part of Yeosang that had quietly rejoiced at being restrained earlier now bloomed with warmth at the casual manhandling. 

Jongho raised his hand suddenly, like a schoolchild in a classroom.

Hongjoong sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yes?”

“I think I should be allowed to hold Yeosangie-hyung now,” he said magnanimously, “I’m sure Yunho-hyung is feeling tired after all this time.”

Yeosang lurched forward, an apology already tumbling out of his lips, only to be interrupted by the indignant squawk of the alpha behind him.

“What? No! You held him at the last pack meeting!” Yunho’s arms tightened around Yeosang possessively, pulling him flush against his chest.

Yeosang blushed darkly, warmth flooding his cheeks as he tried to fight the growing smile tugging at his lips. The absurdity of it all struck him like lightning on still waters. If someone had told him just hours ago that he’d be sitting in the Nest during a cycle, wrapped in Yunho’s arms, following a confession from the entire pack, he would’ve signed them up for a psych evaluation.

“And you’ve been holding him this entire time!” Wooyoung interjected. “He’s my boyfriend! I’ll hold him.” 

Wooyoung clambered onto the bed, plopped down beside Yeosang and Yunho, and immediately began tugging at Yeosang’s arms in an attempt to pry him free. Yunho refused to budge, crossing his legs over Yeosang’s thighs to pin him in place.

“That’s even more reason to not have him! You’ve been hogging him all week!” Mingi huffed, rising to what Yeosang assumed was Yunho’s defence until he added, “I should hold him!”

“As the pack Alpha,” Hongjoong said loudly, cutting through the boisterous squabbling. Everyone paused, turning to hear his verdict. “I think it only makes sense that I should get the honou—”

Groans and protests erupted before he could finish.

In the end, after a chaotic round of rock, paper, scissors, complete with dramatic accusations of cheating and overly theatrical defeats, Wooyoung emerged victorious. 

The small omega gloated shamelessly as he arranged Yeosang in his lap, arms wrapping around him with smug satisfaction. Given their similar size, Wooyoung had to lean sideways to see the rest of the pack as they settled into a loose circle, but he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

Yeosang, however, wasn’t quite sure how to handle it all.

It was surreal in the best way: warm, dizzying, almost too much. But beneath the joy, he felt unmoored, like the ground beneath him wasn’t quite solid. As if the rug could be pulled out at any moment, and he’d fall harder than he ever had before.

“Alright, kids,” Seonghwa clapped his hands. Everyone, Yeosang included, groaned as he slipped effortlessly into the caricature of a kindergarten teacher. 

“I’ll start!” Mingi interrupted, hand shooting up like a child desperate to be picked.

“You don’t even know what hyung called the meeting for,” Jongho laughed, and Mingi retaliated by biting his shoulder. The room erupted in laughter, the air thick with affection and familiarity.

Yeosang watched it all with a kind of aching fondness.

He’d worried he’d lost this when he left the pack. He’d been so scared that stepping away meant forfeiting the casual banter, the fond teasing, the way affection was given so freely. And for a while, it had felt that way. It was as if everyone had been holding their breath and were only now finally able to exhale.

“I can guess!” Mingi insisted, puffing up with mock pride.

“Let’s not. Hyung?” Yunho asked, glancing towards the pack Alpha.

Hongjoong gave a lopsided smile and clapped his hands together. “Okay. A lot has changed in the last twenty-four hours, so I just want to touch base.” He turned his attention to Yeosang as he continued, “Especially with you, Yeosang.”

The attention shifting back to him made Yeosang curl inwards instinctively, shoulders hunching as if he could make himself smaller. He wasn’t ready.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Hongjoong continued gently, “but I just want to make sure you’re okay with everything that’s happened so far. How do you feel after helping Sannie with his rut?”

Yeosang flushed, heat prickling at his cheeks. The question wasn’t invasive, but it still felt too close. His fingers twitched against Wooyoung’s sleeve, and he leaned back into the omega’s chest as though the latter could absorb and hide him. Wooyoung caught the silent plea for comfort and wordlessly brushed their wrists together. The brief contact released a soft pulse of cinnamon-scented pheromones that melted the tension from Yeosang’s shoulders.

“Were you uncomfortable at any point?” Hongjoong shifted easily to questions Yeosang could answer with a simple yes or no.

Yeosang shook his head.

“Okay, good,” Hongjoong smiled widely. “And, hmm… how do I put this? Do you know how we feel about you?”

Yeosang gave a hesitant shrug. In theory, yes, he knew. Wooyoung, Seonghwa, Mingi, and San clearly had romantic feelings for him. Yunho, too, perhaps. He wasn’t sure about Jongho and Hongjoong, though. Their fondness was clear, but fondness wasn’t the same as love.

“All six of us feel the same way Wooyoung does,” Seonghwa said, his voice firm yet gentle. “I know you probably feel blindsided by this and, like Mingi said earlier, even if you don’t share the same feelings, we’ll respect that. I just don’t think it’s helping to continue keeping secrets.”

Yeosang swallowed hard, throat tight. He was relieved that Seonghwa had spelled it out for him. But the weight of the words was insurmountable.

Wooyoung loved him. He was learning to accept that as truth, something etched into the lines of time. And if the others loved him the way Wooyoung did…

His chest constricted.

There was a small part of him that urged him to run. To escape the all-encompassing swell of emotion and retreat into the safety of solitude, no matter how much it ached. Familiar pain was easier to manage than the terrifying possibility of joy.

But he couldn’t when running meant hurting the very people he loved.

Still, acceptance didn’t come easily. 

“We can’t move on from this until everything is out in the open,” Jongho said, nodding with quiet conviction. 

That Yeosang agreed with. All his suppressed emotions had festered, a raw and aching wound in his heart that would never heal unless he finally cleansed it. If he didn’t uncover it, didn’t let it breathe and be cleaned, it would only begin to rot.

Still, he was struggling to wrap his head around it all. If they all felt the same way he did, why had no one spoken sooner? Why did it take him leaving for the truth to come out? Or were these feelings new? Did they only come to like him after discovering he wasn’t actually a beta? The questions twisted through him, sharp and unrelenting. He didn’t know which answer would hurt more.

“You don’t have to say anything just yet,” Yunho said quickly. “This isn’t to pressure you or anything.” 

Yeosang was grateful for the out. He knew that the pack wouldn’t lie to him about something this monumental. But the fear still lingered, irrational and persistent. A small, gnawing voice in the back of his mind whispered that this might be a prank, some elaborate joke with hidden cameras waiting to catch his reaction like a terrible reality show.

“But do you know how we feel?” Hongjoong asked again, this time softer.

Yeosang nodded, shyly. The gesture felt small, but it was all he could manage. Hongjoong's face lit with a pride that shimmered like sunlight through clear, shallow water. 

“And… do you mind if we act on those feelings?” Mingi asked tentatively, leaning against Jongho’s shoulder as he spoke.

Yeosang blinked. “Act on it?” he echoed, breaking his self-imposed silence.

“Yeah,” Mingi said, “like if we kiss you or scent you?”

Yeosang’s brain stuttered at the idea. The thought of being wanted like that made something flutter in his chest. He so badly wanted to say yes. 

He shrugged.

“Are you okay if we ask before we do it?” Jongho asked, voice careful. “You can always say no.”

Yeosang nodded at that. That felt manageable.

“Is there anything you’d like to ask us?” Hongjoong prompted when the room fell into silence.

Yeosang thought for a long moment, hundreds of questions flitting through his head half-formed before he settled on shaking his head. Words felt difficult all of a sudden. He worried that if he started talking, he’d bare his heart completely and ruin the lighthearted atmosphere he’d only just begun to feel part of again.

Hongjoong frowned.

“I know it’s uncomfortable,” Hongjoong said softly, “but can you ask just one question? Just one, and then we’ll end the meeting.”

Yeosang’s heart stuttered as a single, desperate question surfaced above all else. He didn’t know why he needed to know, only that the answer suddenly felt more vital than air.

“Did it ever hurt you, too?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

The question slipped out before he could stop it. He wasn’t even sure what answer he wanted. Maybe he was hoping they hadn’t known or seen the way he’d withered in silence. Or maybe he was asking to confirm that they had known and had chosen to look the other way.

But once the words were out, more followed, unbidden.

“If you loved me,” he said, lower lip trembling, “why didn’t you ever hold me?” He hadn’t meant to bleed like this, hadn’t meant to bear the wound so completely. But it was too late. The pain spilled out, raw and trembling. “It—it hurt so much, but you ne-never noticed.” Yeosang hiccuped on a shaky inhale. 

“I needed y-you b-but no-no one—” The words fractured, collapsing under the dry sobs that wracked his body.

“Oh, baby,” Hongjoong was in front of him in seconds. Wooyoung let him go easily, and the Alpha pulled Yeosang into his arms, holding him so tightly the pressure felt like the only thing keeping him from falling apart. He hiccuped again, fists curling into Hongjoong’s shirt as he fought the torrent of tears clawing at his throat.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Hongjoong murmured, dragging him closer still as the tears came anyway. Yeosang pressed his face into Hongjoong’s neck, letting out ragged, shaky breaths between sobs.

“I’m sorry, baby. It was my fault.” He repeated the last four words as a mantra, rocking him gently to ground him. Yeosang could feel other hands now, soft touches along his back, fingers carding through his hair, the quiet presence of the pack surrounding him. 

As his tears dried up, the embarrassment crept in. He hadn’t meant to break down like that in front of them all. He tucked himself into the curve of Hongjoong’s neck, drinking in the quiet warmth as he procrastinated facing them.

Hongjoong’s pheromones grew stronger, deliberate now, the calming notes of sandalwood wrapping around Yeosang like a balm. Fingers threaded through his hair, slow and steady, coaxing him to relax. The gentle touch and warm scent helped push back the flood of emotion until he was left hiccupping softly, eyes dry and limbs heavy.

The scent beckoned him closer, and Yeosang couldn’t resist. He rubbed his cheek against the gland, wanting to absorb the scent into his own profile, to carry it with him like armour. Hongjoong held him carefully, manoeuvring him onto his lap with ease, cradling him like he was something precious. Yeosang sighed as the Alpha’s scent grew headier, slowly burning away the last remnants of shame.

Yeosang quickly lost track of time.

Hands roamed his body, gentle strokes along his back and arms. He could hear the soft voices of the others, murmuring around him, but he didn’t lift his head. He couldn’t. He needed to stay in this cocoon Hongjoong had created. His omega found security in the pheromones. The last time he’d been exposed to Hongjoong’s scent at this intensity, he’d been knocked out in minutes.

This time seemed no different.

“Whoa, okay, I think that’s enough,” Hongjoong said gently, easing Yeosang back with careful hands. “I think he’s getting a bit of a pheromone high.” 

Yeosang whined at the loss, reaching for his Alpha again, desperate for the warmth and safety he’d just been wrapped in.

“Oh, most definitely,” Seonghwa chuckled from beside them, already moving to help. With someone else’s assistance, he gently tugged Yeosang away from Hongjoong. Yeosang whined again, squirming in protest, trying to wriggle free of the omega’s hold.

“Hyung,” he pleaded, arms outstretched, reaching for Hongjoong.

“I know, baby,” Hongjoong murmured, brushing Yeosang’s hair out of his eyes. “Let your Seonghwa hyung hold you for a bit, hm?”

Yeosang slumped in Seonghwa’s arms, dejected. Hongjoong didn’t want him. No one ever did.

“Why’s he sad?” Jongho asked, voice soft with concern.

“I’m not,” Yeosang mumbled, though he could feel the pout tugging at his lips, betraying him.

“Oh my God, look at that face!” San groaned, throwing his hands up. “Hyung, just hold him.” 

Yeosang nodded eagerly in agreement, eyes wide and hopeful as he looked at Hongjoong. The Alpha merely pinched his cheek with a fond smile before moving further away.

Yeosang’s pout returned instantly, deeper this time. He folded in on himself, sulking with theatrical misery. Distantly, he recognised he was being spoilt, but his inner omega didn’t care for propriety right now. It wanted Alpha. 

Seonghwa shifted beneath him, opening his legs wide enough for Yeosang to slip down onto the mattress while still held close. When Yeosang tried to rise, Seonghwa’s arms tightened around him.

“Stay with me, please?”

Yeosang stilled.

He wanted to run. To hide in his room, bury himself under blankets, and pretend Hongjoong’s gentle push hadn’t felt like rejection. But he didn’t want to upset Seonghwa either. And the older man’s arms were warm. 

So he leaned back into the embrace, still pouting, but no longer trying to escape.

“To answer your questions,” Hongjoong said once Yeosang had settled, “no, it didn’t hurt me. I know it must have been excruciating for you, and I’m so sorry my own fears held me back from realising you needed help. If I had known—if any of us had—”

“What ifs aren’t going to get us anywhere, hyung,” Yunho cut in gently. “What’s done is done. But we can promise you that you’ll never feel that kind of pain again.”

“Or any kind of pain,” Seonghwa added, voice low and fierce as he hugged Yeosang tighter. “I’m going to love you and protect you and never let you go.”

Yeosang let out a watery laugh, the sound soft and disbelieving. “You can’t promise that, hyung.”

“Watch me,” Seonghwa said and pressed a fierce kiss to his cheek.