Chapter Text
Jay was just an ordinary person.
Lived the simple life of a beta in his group. He didn’t have to deal with the troubles of alphas in rut, nor the cycles of omegas in heat. He was the middle ground, the golden balance. Always helped when needed, though his personality and behavior often resembled an omega’s more than anything.
He was softer. More sensitive. Easier to upset or hurt. And the way he took care of people—it felt more like a mom's care than just a friend’s support.
In short, he was a beta.
Well… until yesterday.
A few days ago.
“Hyung, did you get new perfume?” Sunoo asked, sitting across from him and cutting into his steak. “You smell kinda sweeter than usual. It actually suits you. But…” He paused to chew. “You don’t really like those kinds of scents, do you?”
“What?” Jay frowned, confused. “I didn’t use any perfume today.” He sniffed his shirt, puzzled. “Nope. Nothing.”
He really didn’t smell like anything. Not even the soap he used that morning—it must’ve worn off by now. And he definitely hadn’t sprayed any perfume.
Maybe it was Jake’s scent? They hugged this morning.
Still, he wasn’t sure—he didn’t really know what any of the members smelled like.
“Could it be Jake?” Jay asked. “We hugged earlier.”
Sunoo shook his head. “Hyung’s scent is fresher. This one’s kinda sweet. It’s faint, but definitely there.”
A few hours later, same day.
“Jongseong.”
Jay heard Heeseung’s voice through the haze of sleep, followed by a soft knock. Still half-asleep, he answered lazily:
“Come in.”
Jay turned his head and saw Heeseung slowly open the door. His red hair poked out first, then he stepped fully into the room—but just stood there, frozen.
“I said come in. Why are you standing there?”
Heeseung didn’t move. He was clearly thinking about something.
“Hello? You deaf or something?” Jay sat up, rubbing his eyes. “What’s with you?”
A few seconds passed before Heeseung finally spoke:
“Uh… Jongseong… are you okay?” His voice was unsure, maybe even a little worried.
Jay blinked. “What? I’m just tired. I need to sleep. What do you want?”
Heeseung stepped in slowly, frowning. He leaned in a bit, eyes narrowing.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, suspicious now.
Jay looked at him, confused—and annoyed.
“I told you I’m fine. Just tired. What’s your problem?” His voice snapped a bit sharper this time, catching Heeseung off guard.
Heeseung reeled slightly at the tone.
“Jongseong, the hell? Who do you think you’re talking to?” He raised a brow, arms crossing over his chest. His alpha tone slipped in, but just barely—more like a warning.
Jay looked at him blankly, then rolled his eyes.
“Yeah yeah, big scary alpha,” he muttered, waving a hand. “The leading alpha of the group, whatever. But I’m not Jungwon, Sunoo. Or Jake. Or even Sunghoon or Riki. Your alpha voice doesn’t scare me. I don’t even smell your scent. So I’m not gonna bow my head or act all obedient. Say what you came to say and leave.”
Heeseung sighed through his nose. “I came to call you for dinner.”
“Well then, you wasted your time. I’m not hungry. Thanks.” Jay yawned and flopped back down, turning to face the wall. “Oh—and tell Sunghoon I have his shirt. I’ll give it back tomorrow.”
Heeseung blinked. *Sunghoon’s shirt?*
“You don’t wear our stuff,” he said slowly.
Jay shrugged. “Felt like it."
Silence fell like a curtain.
Thick. Uncomfortable.
“That’s it. I’m sleeping. Close the door.”
Heeseung’s hand clenched at his side. His jaw tightened—but he didn’t push further.
He turned, walking out of the room.
As the door clicked shut behind him, he muttered under his breath:
“Jay... you're in trouble."
Jay woke with a start.
The sheets beneath him were soaked—clammy, unbearably warm, and sticking to his skin like a second layer. His body trembled, caught somewhere between a burning fever and bone-deep chills. His face felt flushed, skin prickling with heat, but his hands were ice-cold, trembling slightly as he gripped the edge of the blanket.
He couldn’t tell what he needed more: to bury himself deeper under the covers or to tear them off entirely.
There was a dull ache blooming low in his abdomen, a pulsing heat that refused to settle. His skin itched like something beneath it was shifting—unfurling—like his own body had turned foreign overnight.
It was too much.
Too hot. Too raw.
He curled in on himself, biting back a low sound.
Something was happening.
Something new.
And it scared the hell out of him.
His brain felt like it was melting—thick and slow, as though his thoughts were trying to wade through syrup. And yet, a tiny drop of clarity still lingered, flickering somewhere deep inside the fog.
*“How? I was sure I was a beta. My parents are both betas. Why now? And so late, too—I even took a secondary gender test a few years ago...”*
A high, pained whimper tore from his throat as another wave of pressure pulsed through his body, and his breath hitched—shallow, trembling gasps that barely filled his lungs.
At some point—he wasn’t sure how much time had passed—his thoughts began unraveling completely. Fragmented. Unreachable. The last thing he remembered before his mind finally snapped, before he slipped into that fevered, instinct-driven haze, was the image of Jungwon standing in his room with wide, frightened eyes—and Heeseung above him, frozen in shock.
Everything after that... was a blur.
A week later.
Jay slowly opened his eyes, his entire body aching like he'd been hit by a train. His limbs felt heavy, stiff with exhaustion, and as he lazily glanced around the room, his blurry vision began to clear.
He was lying in a pile of clothes. Not just any clothes—ones that looked... familiar.
"...These are..." he mumbled hoarsely, eyes going wide.
He reached out, fingers brushing over the fabric.
They were his members' clothes.
"What the hell happened?" he muttered, his brow furrowing as he lifted a trembling hand to his pounding head.
Everything around him was a mess.
Sticky. Unwashed. The sheets—soaked.
Everything was dirty.
He grimaced, yanking the blanket over it all, his face burning in humiliation as he tried to hide it from even himself.
Disgust twisted in his gut. It was vile.
Shameful.
He exhaled shakily, trying not to gag on the memory his body apparently remembered better than his mind did.
Then.
“Oh, you’re awake.”
The voice made him jump.
Jay's head whipped toward the sound, heart leaping in his chest. He clenched the sheets around him tighter, shifting uncomfortably as his muscles tensed.
A doctor.
He was looking at a doctor.
“H-hello,” Jay mumbled, awkward, unsure, trying to sit up without exposing himself too much.
“Hello, Jay,” the man replied gently, a kind smile on his face. “How are you feeling?”
How was he feeling?
Weird.
Not bad. Not good. Just... off.
Like something inside him had cracked and never quite set right again.
“Fine,” he said flatly.
The doctor tilted his head, lips pressing together in a concerned line.
“All right. Then let’s talk, shall we? I’m sure you have questions.”
Jay hesitated. Then swallowed.
“Why?”
Just that one word—but it carried the weight of everything.
And the doctor understood right away.
“I already explained this to your friends,” he began, voice calm and even. “Now I’ll tell you: the fact that both your parents are betas... it means nothing.”
Jay stared at him in disbelief.
“But I took the test,” he argued, frustration and confusion flickering across his features. “It said I was a beta. And the others—their tests were accurate—"
“Jay,” the doctor interrupted gently, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “tests aren’t always conclusive. They can be wrong. And in your case, they were.”
Jay blinked, stunned.
“But... how?” he whispered. “How does that even happen?”
“It’s likely that you have omega genes somewhere in your family line. It doesn’t have to be from your parents. Even a distant cousin with omega traits can pass it down—it’s not rare.”
And then it hit him.
His cousin.
His older cousin—an omega.
*Of course.*
Jay let out a humorless laugh, the sound brittle.
“Well. I guess it doesn’t really matter how anymore,” he said with a bitter smile. “The real question is... what now?”
The doctor didn’t answer right away. Instead, he turned his head toward the door.
“That,” he said with a small, knowing smirk, “is something your friends are here to help with.”
Jay looked over, and there they were—Sunoo and Jungwon peeking in from the hallway, eyes wide and nervous. And behind them, leaning casually against the wall with arms crossed over his chest, stood Heeseung.
Their eyes met for a split second.
And then Heeseung looked away—fast.
Expression unreadable. Guarded.
Something in him looked... off. Unsettled.
Jay’s stomach dropped.
*Did I... do something?*
*During the heat?*
He lowered his head.
“O-okay...”
“Good,” the doctor said. “Then I’ll leave you to rest.” But before turning to go, he pressed a folded piece of paper into Jay’s hand. “Just in case,” he added quietly. “Some medications, suppressants, and care items. You might want to get a few of these.”
Jay took it with both hands, murmuring a quiet thank-you. The list was... undeniably useful.
And for that, he was grateful.
Because now he had to learn how to live again.
This time—as an omega.
And something unfamiliar—tight and strange—began to curl deep in his chest.