Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chan leaves during the first day of the funeral.

“I need some air,” he tells his eomma when she sees him trying to step out. The words taste like ash on his tongue. “It’s too stuffy in here.”

She searches his face briefly for some hint of a lie, but doesn’t linger too long. There’s no time to worry about him when his cousin is just across the room, wailing over the casket where her omega lays. 

“Fine,” she says, already letting him go. “Don’t take too long, and don’t go far.”

He thanks her a touch too formally, and tries not to rush out of the room. A few wreathes try to freshen the scent in the air, but they’re drowned out by the regret, grief, and pain that permeates everything. Most of it is his cousin’s.

It should make him want to stay. His instincts should tell him to stick with his family, comfort them through this time of mourning. A good omega would, and Chan does everything that he can to be good. 

Not this time.

His hands are shaking by the time he gets on the omegas-only section of the train. People stare at him in his black hanbok, his jittery scent clogging his own nose. He sniffles and pretends it’s the riot of scents around him and not the fear of what will happen next, what his family will do when they realize that he’s running away.

Harabeonim will be angry. Being the alpha of their family pack, he’s strict on how he expects them to act, and stepping outside of that has consequences. Chan has omega relatives who’ve run away before, but they always returned. 

Everyone falls into line eventually.

But Chan doesn’t think he’ll ever go back. It’s been only a few days since Junseo passed away, but he’d been sick for a while before that. Through it all, Chan’s family has only really cared about his cousin Subin, giving her advice on what it will be like to be a widowed alpha and making sure she was taken care of. They let Junseo lay there, feverish and weak, overlooked for months as if he were already gone.

Chan knows that alphas are more important, that Subin will some day make something of herself in a way that he never can. 

But Junseo was nice to him. He let Chan eat before him, and never told anyone about catching Chan reading a trashy heat romance novel one time. When Harabeonim found a packet of suppressants that Chan had snuck in, Junseo took the blame. He had Subin to protect him, while Chan only had Junseo.

Now he’s gone. And no one in Chan’s family cares.

Chan feels sick all the way to Seoul. 

He gets off on a random stop, disoriented and having no idea where to go. It’s only then that the real gravity of what he’s done drops down on his shoulders, a weight that feels suffocating. 

For a little while, he wanders around, taking in all the ways Seoul is different from the town he grew up in, so much larger and livelier. The buildings stretch up like giants, making him feel small and unable to breathe. Storefronts line the streets, and people walk around in tight groups, scents coming from every direction.

More people stare at him. Is it because of the funeral clothes, he wonders, or the fact that he’s an omega walking around alone? Back home, he always had to have one of his parents or his brother with him, even though he’s older. He’s never gone anywhere without someone around to keep an eye on him.

It’s overwhelming. 

He ends up in front of a restaurant, clutching his arms around his stomach as he tries to tell himself he can’t go back now. It doesn’t matter how scared he is—Harabeonim will punish him if he does. His family will say he’s ruined the funeral, taking the attention away from poor Subin because of his childish antics. 

He can’t go back home, he can’t, and yet what is he supposed to do now, with only the clothes on his back and barely any money in his pocket?

Appa has always said that Chan doesn’t think things through enough, his omega brain getting the best of him. Chan knew he was right, but this is so much worse than trying to fight with his alpha cousins in front of Halmeonim or stealing the pillows from the couch for his bed when he was sick. 

Bad omegas get punished. And that’s what Chan is, now, a bad omega. 

If he goes home now, he won’t get a slap on the wrist. They won’t suddenly mourn Junseo. They’ll just be angry with him. And it will be deserved, more than any other punishment he’s ever gotten.

So maybe he’s hyperventilating, a little, by the time someone finally takes pity on him.

Distantly, he hears the bell ring above the restaurant door. He doesn’t notice the man that steps out until he’s right in front of Chan, hovering a foot away. 

Chan sees a shadow first, the lights from across the street dimming until they're gone entirely. His eyes flick up, hackles raising, and that's when he notices the man all at once. He gasps  and jerks back, hitting the rough stone behind him.

“I’m sorry, I’ll leave,” he says in a rush, immediately assuming this man—this alpha, he can tell by the metallic, musky scent alone—has come out here to scold him. And why not, when Chan is standing like a specter outside and probably driving business away as he spirals?

“Do you wanna come in instead?” The man smiles at him, a crooked, kind thing that sets Chan on edge at once. 

His family has told him a thousand times to stay away from strange alphas. Eomma says they’re always up to no good. That alphas and omegas can’t be friends. That they’ll try to take Chan away from his family, and his family needs Chan, and Chan can’t possibly protect himself anyway, so he must stay with them. 

The thought makes the guilt and fear rise inside of him again, because he did leave, and now he’s practically cornered against this storefront by a big city alpha. He’s only been here an hour, and already, his family has been proven correct.

Maybe the man realizes how it sounds, because he laughs nervously and corrects, “Just—you look like you’re having a really bad day, and I thought maybe some comfort food would help. My friend works here and he makes the best pizza on this side of the city.”

Chan swallows around the lump in his throat. 

“I—I can’t pay,” he says awkwardly, sure that the guy be upset to have an omega talking back to him. But what else can he do? If he’s sweet enough, maybe the man will forgive him. Leave him alone. 

Bowing a small bow, he continues, “I’m sorry, alpha, I appreciate your kindness but—“

“Hey,” the guy interrupts, but it’s gentle. He ducks his head a little to meet Chan’s eyes, and the look in them is nothing like Chan’s Harabeonim or samchon—he doesn’t look angry at all. “My name is Lee Seokmin, but you can call me hyung, okay? You are younger than me, aren’t you? And what’s your name?”

Chan can tell he’s being lightly teased, even if it’s only happened rarely before. The theatrical tilt to the alpha's words are enough of a tip off.

“It’s Lee Chan and I’m… I’m twenty-three,” he answers, glancing away. It’s only after the words are out that he realizes maybe he shouldn’t have revealed so much, but it’s too late now. That’s probably why his parents never wanted him to go outside alone.

“Ah-ha! Yep, I’m twenty-five. I’m your hyung.” Seokmin smiles at him again, friendly, open. 

Chan thinks he may be the one staring now, having never met such a cheerful alpha. In his experience, alphas are cold and uninterested at best; Seokmin is nothing like that at all. 

It doesn’t help that deep down, a voice he rarely indulges whispers, I haven’t met such a beautiful alpha before either.

Thankfully, the thought is interrupted before it can go anywhere beyond just that—a fleeting, stupid omegan instinct. He curls a fist to try and stave it off, well-used to forcing these things down.

“So, what do you say? Come eat with us?” Seokmin tilts his head towards the door, and Chan glances back, looking through the glass. The restaurant isn’t busy, with two girls standing behind the counter chatting, and only one table having anyone at it. There are a few guys there, and when Chan looks their way, they all pretend to be looking somewhere else.

It doesn’t help Chan feel any better. Shifting on his feet, he says, “I’ve never had pizza before.”

“Really?” Seokmin’s eyes light up. Bouncing, he doesn’t try to grab Chan even though it seems like he might want to drag Chan inside. “Ohh, this is so exciting. Trust me, you’ll love it.”

Seokmin takes the few steps back to the door, and pulls it open with another chime of the bell. Chan looks past him into the darkening night and considers running away again. He’s already disobeyed today, what’s another rule broken going to do? Is he really going to go sit down with a strange alpha in a strange city and just trust that they’ll be kind to him?

But Seokmin is the only person who’s reached out to him in so long. Since Junseo got sick and stopped leaving Subin’s den. He's an alpha, but he's looking at Chan like he actually cares, actually wants him to come with him.

Chan is starving. He has been for a long time.

Swallowing again, he says, “Okay, hyung,” and follows Seokmin inside.

The guys Seokmin is with don’t pretend not to stare when Seokmin guides him to their table. There are three of them, dressed in comfortable clothes and radiating a sense of relaxation that Chan can’t imagine feeling himself. Their scents are muted under the fragrant taste of sauces, cheese, and meat on the air.

Seokmin doesn’t touch Chan as he gestures across the table. “This is Jeonghan-hyung, Seungkwan-ah, and Hansol. Guys, this is Lee Chan. He’s twenty-three.”

“Sup,” says Hansol, the one sitting on one end of the booth. 

“Hi Lee Chan,” Seungkwan says next, scanning Chan’s outfit without saying anything. The up-down look makes him uncomfortable, and so does Seungkwan meeting his eyes head on, even if he has a friendly vibe. “You can call me and Bonon-ah hyung.”

“He means Hansol,” Seokmin explains quickly. “That’s his American name, Vernon.”

“Ahem,” Jeonghan says placidly, and Seokmin goes quiet, whole body turning to the last man. 

Oh, Chan thinks, this must be the eldest alpha. He can’t tell what Jeonghan’s scent is like from across the table, but he’s sure that this is the one in charge. It makes him nervous and his eyes drop to Jeonghan’s chin. Not even the pimple patch there is enough to soothe Chan’s suddenly racing heart. What if this man is upset that Seokmin has brought him over here? Do city alphas punish omegas that aren’t even theirs? Can they?

Of course they can, he thinks. If Junseo were here, he would say that’s not true—but Junseo is gone and Chan can do nothing but fall back on what he knows. He waits with his head bowed for the rejection.

But Jeonghan doesn’t tell him to leave or make him apologize for wasting their time. 

“I’m Jeonghan, and I’m the eldest of this bunch. You can call me hyung too.” He waves a hand towards the empty side of the booth and says, “Aigoo, come sit down, Lee Chan-ssi. Seokmin-ah, you sit down first. Don’t make me sit by myself.”

Seokmin flops down into the circular booth, scooting in until he’s next to Jeonghan and leaving the aisle seat for Chan. It's a relief knowing he'll have a way to escape if he needs to.

“Am I nothing to you, hyung?” Seungkwan complains, leaning into Jeonghan’s other side. It’s a move Chan has seen omegas do on TV to appease their alphas, and it eases something in Chan to see it now. It’s proof that Jeonghan is definitely in charge, like his own Harabeonim is. It tells him his instinct is right. “Do you not see me sitting next to you? I fought for this spot, you know, and this is how you treat me?”

Jeonghan pets his hair with his free hand, the other holding a bitten-into slice of pizza, but doesn’t bother to respond. Instead he meets Chan’s eyes, and says again, “Sit down. Seokmin won’t bite.”

“I won’t! I’m very friendly,” Seokmin says, patting the seat beside him with a beaming grin.

“That’s the creepiest thing you could’ve said, hyung,” Hansol tells him, laughing. It's a cute, squeaky thing that makes Chan want to join in, his lips curling up slightly before he forces his face back to neutrality.

“Hey,” Seokmin complains. He looks to Jeonghan as if wanting him to mediate, but Jeonghan doesn’t. He only takes a bite of his pizza and lets Seungkwan lounge on his shoulder.

Confusion fills Chan as he slowly, cautiously sits down, leaving space between himself and Seokmin. He’s sure the alpha won’t want to sit too close to some strange omega. Jeonghan watches him the whole time, only seeming satisfied when Seokmin has laid a slice of pizza down in front of Chan.

“This is really good, Chan-ssi. Try some.”

Chan doesn’t realize he’s hungry until he picks up the piece, still warm and covered in gooey cheese. His parents always said American food was too expensive and too unhealthy, but he’s always secretly wanted to try it. 

His parents aren’t here to stop him. He’s already bad.

He takes a bite. That’s all he needs to know that he likes it, chewing slowly to savor the taste, a combination of warm dough, spicy sauce, and melty cheese that he immediately wants more of.

Quickly, Seokmin asks, “It’s so good, right?”

“Let him finish, hyung,” Seungkwan tsks. 

Seokmin makes a whiney noise. “But I’m excited for him! I want him to like it!”

“I do,” Chan chokes out, his throat feeling like it’s closed up. He doesn’t realize they’re the first words he’s said since they came inside, or that they’re the perfect ones to make the other three men like him a little more—he’s only worried about reassuring Seokmin. Turning towards the alpha, he ducks his head in a bow. “It’s very good, alpha hyung. Thank you for letting me have a piece. I’ll—“

“You’ll have another one,” Seokmin cheerfully says, interrupting him before he can say anything about paying him back. But there are no more slices on the tray, so Seokmin climbs up to his feet in the booth and goes over to the other side. He almost trips out, but is unphased, walking away and calling for someone named Mingyu behind the counter.

Chan finds himself alone at the table with Jeonghan, Seungkwan, and Hansol. Ducking his head again, he avoids Jeonghan’s stare and takes another bite. An awkward tension falls over their group that Chan ignores at all costs.

At home, he would do his part to try and diffuse it. But he doesn’t know his place here, except that it’s at the bottom. He doesn’t dare cause a problem for any of these men.

Luckily, with the pizza mostly gone, it’s a little easier to tell their scents apart.

Hansol, Chan thinks, is a beta. He hums as he chews, contentment leaking into the air around him, but it’s slightly muted the way beta scents tend to be. Like paper and ink, pleasant but easy to miss.

On the other hand, Seungkwan’s scent is louder, becoming more clearly alpha as Seokmin’s scent goes along with him. His is a fruity scent, not exactly typical for alphas, and musky underneath, which is.

Chan knows there are packs where even other alphas must submit to the pack alpha. It’s normal in families, where the eldest alpha is the leader of the family no matter how many generations there are. Glancing between Jeonghan and Seungkwan, he decides that must be what’s happening here, even though he doesn’t think they’re related. 

But… Jeonghan doesn’t seem to have a scent, he realizes, sniffing surreptitiously in his direction. It’s not like a beta’s scent, it’s just… not there.

“I’m wearing a scent blocker,” Jeonghan tells him, something almost like amusement lining the words. “Is it working?”

Chan’s head jerks up, scared to have been caught, and watches woodenly as the smile on Jeonghan’s face shifts to something smaller. 

Is he angry that Chan is snooping into his business? For being rude enough to creep on his and his pack mates's scents when they've only just met?

Of course he is.

“Alpha hyung,” he starts apologetically, but he doesn’t get a chance to say anything else because both Seungkwan and Hansol laugh. It’s not a mean sound, and they both shoot teasing looks at Jeonghan, not Chan. But still, he sinks into the seat, embarrassed and wishing he’d never spoken at all. This is why his family said omegas shouldn’t speak too much.

“I’m telling Cheol-hyung about that,” Seungkwan giggles, pulling out a phone at once. Jeonghan rolls his eyes and doesn’t even bother to try and stop him. 

“Hannie-hyung isn’t an alpha,” Hansol says to Chan, smiling. “He’s an omega.”

Chan pauses, turning his eyes back to Jeonghan. Of course, he has the look of a classic omega, soft features and longer hair that makes him look approachable and sweet. But the air around him doesn’t feel like that—the other three have clearly reacted to him the way Chan’s family does to Harabeonim. 

Okay, maybe not the exact same, because no one teases Harabeonim and he doesn’t tolerate bad manners the way Jeonghan seems to. But it’s close enough.

How can this man, who everyone treats so deferently, be an omega? How can two alphas and a beta look to an omega, even if he’s older than them, as some kind of authority?

“I don’t understand,” he says quietly. Omegas aren’t meant for that role, everyone knows that. Are they… are they messing with him right now?

Maybe that's it. They've found an opportunity to joke around, a simple omega they'll never see again after tonight. They're trying to shock him with their city pack dynamics.

Under different circumstances, Chan would be upset—feel picked on and annoyed. But surrounded by strangers, and after all the turmoil he's been through today, he struggles to call up any strong emotional response. 

Eomma says city packs are cruel and treat omegas badly. Maybe Chan should just try to leave now before Seokmin comes back with an excuse for Chan to stay longer.

But in the seconds it takes for him to think all of that, Hansol sets down his half-eaten crust and asks, “You’re one too, right?” 

It's a straightforward question; it doesn't seem like he's mocking him.

Still, Chan feels his guts twist. He hates acknowledging what he is, especially when his family says everyone can tell right away anyway. Still, he says, “Yes, hyung.”

“Bononie,” Jeonghan says, and Hansol turns to face him. The moment is quick, but Chan watches as some kind of silent message passes between them. There’s no way he can even begin to decipher it.

“Sorry,” Hansol says, shrugging. “I know it’s kind of rude to ask that. I just think it’s better to be upfront, I guess.”

Chan can’t think of how he should react to that, so he only nods. He’s less sure, now, that they’re messing with him. No one is laughing anymore and Seungkwan isn’t paying them any attention. Jeonghan hasn’t loudly disclaimed being an omega like any normal alpha would.

What is going on right now?

When Hansol realizes he’s not going to say anything, he continues, “I’m a beta. Kwannie and Seokmin-hyung are alphas. Mingyu-hyung is an alpha too, he’s the one who made the pizza. There, now we’re even.”

“Not by half,” Seungkwan says, shutting his phone down. Counting off on his fingers, he lists, “There’s also Seungcheol, Joshua, Junnie, Wonu, Jihoon, Myungho, and,” he fake shudders, “Soonyoung-hyung.”

Chan blinks at him in surprise. Are those all the names of their other pack members?

“Wahh, Seungkwannie, so disrespectful to your hyungs,” Jeonghan says, his tone light. 

The words make Chan’s shoulders stiff but he’s the only one—Seungkwan doesn’t bother to look ashamed. But then, why would he if he’s the alpha and Jeonghan is the omega? What could Jeonghan possibly do to him? 

“Chan-ssi, every person he just named is older than him. See how rude this little alpha is?”

Unable to defend himself, Seungkwan pouts and sips on his drink.

“We’re a big pack,” Jeonghan continues. “We were all raised so differently. Seungkwan’s appa and eomma are so kind, I don’t what know what happened to him, aigoo….”

“Older sisters,” Hansol says sagely. 

“What do you know,” Seungkwan retorts. “You’re both older brothers! What does that say about you? Lee Chan, please tell me you aren’t an older brother too.”

Are they arguing or playing? Chan wonders, completely disoriented. What is this conversation even about, at this point? “I am,” he says, and it comes out awkward and tense. He cringes, but Seungkwan doesn’t seem to care.

“Oh my god, I’m absolutely surrounded…” He sets his hands on the table and shouts behind Chan, “Seokmin-ah! Come back! I’m being bullied!”

Chan turns around just in time to see Seokmin running back, another guy—another alpha, Chan knows just by looking at him, sinking down a little into the seat—following him more sedately with a few boxes in his hands. When he gets close, Seokmin leans over the table to clutch Seungkwan’s head to his shoulder, cooing protectively at him.

“What are these mean betas and omegas doing to my poor, sweet baby Seungkwannie without me here to protect him?”

“I’m the only beta here,” Hansol says lazily, completely hidden from Chan’s view behind Seokmin and Seungkwan’s bodies.

On the other hand, Jeonghan tells him, “He deserved every bit of it, Seokmin-ah, don’t let him fool you. He tried to pull Chan-ssi into our argument.”

“They were calling me rude, hyung!”

The three of them—Jeonghan, Seokmin, and Seungkwan—devolve into more words and fake tears and weird accents. 

Chan has no idea what’s going on or how he should react; he’s never seen a pack act like this before. It’s not just that the younger members are teasing and fighting with the eldest, it’s everything. 

Jeonghan is an omega, but he’s at the top here; he’s at the top yet he’s joining the petty argument and laughing the whole time. It’s not how any omega should act—he’s completely flaunting every social hierarchy that matters.

Even Hansol is confusing to Chan, just sitting there enjoying the show and shoving the last bite into his mouth.

“Hey,” a soft voice says, cutting through the haze in Chan’s mind. 

He realizes all at once that the other guy is standing above him, intimidatingly tall even as he slumps. Chan’s skin crawls and he stands up suddenly, accidentally bumping the table. It’s not right for an omega to sit while an alpha stands. Nor does he like the feeling of being so small, so overwhelmed by such a tall alpha.

The guy steps back to give him space, and the argument peters out behind them.

“Mingoo, be nice to Lee Chan-ssi or I’ll make you regret it,” Jeonghan casually says. Chan’s shoulders tighten, his breath picking up. 

Omegas don’t… they don’t threaten alphas. Just because none of these other guys are going to punish Jeonghan doesn’t mean their pack alpha won’t. They must have one. And whoever he is, he won’t be happy to know that Chan’s presence has caused a problem between his pack mates.

“Chill, hyung, I wasn’t going to be mean,” the man, Mingyu?, sulks. To Chan, he says, “I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Kim Mingyu, this is my family’s restaurant. Seokmin said you’ve never had pizza before tonight? Did you try it?”

“Um. No, I haven’t. It was very delicious, alpha, thank you for making it.” He bows a little, hoping that’s the right answer. Who knows what these strange alphas want to hear.

Mingyu’s face twitches. “Just call me hyung. I’m glad you liked it. I have some more here, but my shift is over and we were planning on going home after….”

Oh, Chan thinks. He steps away from the table even more, out of Seokmin’s reach. “Thank you all for your kindness. I’ll never forget it,” he says, bowing again. The words are rote, just whatever polite manners he can think of to say. “But I’ll leave now so you can all go home.”

He makes to step towards the door, not wanting to look back. Maybe some day this will be a weird story he tells his grandkids, about the time an odd (but, he acknowledges to himself, handsome) city pack fed him a slice of pizza and gave him a moment where he didn’t feel so lost and alone.

But then he hears Jeonghan. 

“Why don’t you come with us?”

Chan freezes. It’s silent for a moment, and he slowly turns around, feeling like he’s caught in headlights, the way the whole group is staring at him.

“Ah, hyung, he’s probably got somewhere else to go,” Mingyu says, looking embarrassed.

Jeonghan is unrepentant and meets Chan’s eyes. There’s really nothing similar about him and Junseo, but for some reason, his instincts are saying there is one thing. 

That Jeonghan, like Junseo was, is trustworthy. Even though he’s done nothing but be bossy and confusing and just threatened one of his own alpha pack mates like it was nothing, Chan feels himself melt a little under Jeonghan’s gaze.

“I don’t,” he whispers, cheeks heating. It feels shameful, revealing just how incapable he is of taking care of himself. Of how little thought went into running away, besides the need to escape. “I don’t have anywhere else.”

“We have a spare room and a lock on the door,” Jeonghan tells him seriously. “Come with us for tonight.”

Chan is stupid and reckless and a bad omega. Today has been horrible in so many ways. He has no real choice here.

Bowing gratefully, he says, “Okay, hyung.”

Jeonghan smiles, and turns away from him. He jumps into action, saying, “Seokmin-ah, grab the pizzas from Mingoo, he’s been working all day and now we’re forcing him to stand here and wait on us, aishh… Hansollie, let Seungkwan out, hyung is getting claustrophobic….”

Chan stands there stiffly as the others laugh and shift around, tension breaking around them. Mingyu gives him a kind look, and Seokmin mouths something that Chan doesn’t catch. Hansol and Seungkwan get up and lean into each other right away, not ignoring Chan but not hovering either. It’s only once Jeonghan slides out that the group starts moving towards the door, Seokmin and Mingyu in front, Hansol and Seungkwan behind them. Jeonghan steps into line beside Chan, not letting him be last.

This isn’t even half of the pack, Chan realizes, unsure of what he’s walking himself into. There’s, what, six more people? Seven? And one of them must be the pack alpha.

Maybe Jeonghan can tell he’s working himself up, because he laughs at him as they step outside. It’s not a rude sound, but Chan still shrinks into himself.

“Oh, Chan-ssi, it’s okay. We don’t bite. Except Soonyoungie.”

Chan makes a face before he can contain himself, and Jeonghan laughs again.

“I’m kidding. Mostly. Anyway, he’s probably not home yet so you won’t have to meet him. You don’t have to meet anyone you don’t want to, okay? I just want to get you some clothes and make sure you have somewhere safe to sleep tonight.”

The words push a lump right into Chan’s throat. 

He speaks softly even though the others are all trailing ahead of them. “Why… why are you doing this, omega hyung?”

Other than Junseo, omegas in his family have rarely been kind to him. When he was younger, he was always doing something wrong, being too loud or too energetic, not polite enough, not accommodating enough. It was the other omegas who taught Chan how to act, how to behave. 

Under Harabeonim’s strict rules, they’re more likely to tell on him than correct him themselves. Even Eomma gets fed up with him.

It doesn’t make sense that Jeonghan, not knowing him at all, would be nice. Even if the rest of his behavior is completely un-omega like.

Jeonghan hums. “I ran away too, once. It’s scary, isn’t it.”

He’s not asking, just stating it as a simple fact, but Chan still whispers, “It is.”

It’s the scariest thing he’s ever done. He regrets it as much as he doesn’t. There’s a part of him that wishes he never stepped foot on the train this morning, but it’s too late now. He’s here, and he’s following a group of strangers home.

Whatever is coming, he’ll have to find some way to deal with it on his own. He’s put himself in this bed, now he needs to lie in it.

Chan doesn’t feel any better about his decision by the time they get to the pack house.

On the train, they sit in the mixed gender section. It’s packed so full of people, Chan’s nose feels useless. It’s overwhelming, more people in the car than he saw most days combined. There’s no sitting room so they stand huddled together by the doors. 

Like it’s instinct, Jeonghan is the focal point of the group—everyone else stands around him, a barrier to keep out any of the strangers on board. Chan tries to stand next to Seungkwan, but Seungkwan tsks and gently pushes him to stand with Jeonghan.

Surrounded on all sides by alphas and one beta, Chan’s shoulders curl protectively. He hates that that’s his first instinct, to just curl up—but he has no other recourse for himself. Peeking at Jeonghan, he sees no fear at all, just a pleased, almost smug smirk. 

“They’re protective, aren’t they,” Jeonghan coos, pulling Chan to stand more securely beside him. He turns his attention to the group, praising them for being ‘such sweet puppies’ until Mingyu is blushing and Hansol is giggling.

Chan doesn’t speak much, forcing down the discomfort. He lets the sound of their chatting wash over him, trying not to question why they’re treating him this way, and failing horribly. When he looks around the rest of the train, he sees people he thinks might be omegas in all kinds of positions—some sitting, some standing, some alone, and some in groups. Their group isn’t the only one huddled like this, but it doesn’t feel normal to Chan.

His family has never been like this. They don’t coddle the omegas unless they’re pregnant, and Chan most certainly is not. 

Standing there, he can rationalize that they would want to protect Jeonghan. They have weird pack dynamics and seem to adhere more towards age hierarchy; Jeonghan is the oldest, so of course they’d push him to the center.

But why Chan too?

He’s nothing to them but a guy their friend dragged in an hour ago. Just some omega dressed in mourning clothes, who can hardly speak and whose emotions feel so confusing and out of control he can barely handle them himself. Not to mention he’s the youngest of them all. He’s nothing but a mess they’re stuck dealing with.

Now they’re taking him home for the night.

He’s a burden to them, and surely they know that too. But they still keep him there next to Jeonghan until it’s time to get off the train, without one word of complaint. 

The train takes them to a nice neighborhood of pack houses, large and welcoming, more opulent than anything Chan has ever known. Even here, the streets are still alive, other groups of people walking past them to get back to their own homes.

No one that passes by is wearing a hanbok. Nor do any of them look upset or trapped, held close to their alphas. It's not a fairytale where every person is smiling, but it's clear that they're all… Content. Willing to be together.

It makes Chan's stomach churn. He's gone into Iksan proper many times, but comparing this to his own neighborhood is like night and day. He glances at Mingyu and Seokmin, who are talking and sulking rather than keeping a close eye on the omegas in the group.

If Geon or one of Chan's alpha cousins were here, they would've made Chan stand on the inside of the sidewalk. Some of his cousins would even have their hand on his back, in easy reach of his neck.

Is it different in the city? Or are these people just careless?

As they walk, again Chan and Jeonghan are huddled more in the middle of the group. It's the only real way the alphas and beta protect them. 

But this time, Seokmin starts walking backwards and relying completely on Mingyu to guide him, all of his attention on Chan. He clutches the pizza boxes awkwardly, but pushes away Mingyu’s hands when he tries to take them.

“We should give you a run down before we get there, I think,” he says. His permanent smile eases only a little bit of Chan’s tension, especially with Jeonghan next to him, bumping shoulders every so often.

“We should!” Seungkwan adds. “Gosh, I guess we haven’t had to welcome anyone in since Myungho. That was so long ago now!”

“Ohh, I forgot about that,” Mingyu says with a laugh. “He was so freaked out.”

“Which is what we want to avoid with Chan-ssi here,” Jeonghan interjects lightly.

“Don’t freak out, Lee Chan,” Seungkwan says, attempting for comforting and failing terribly. 

There’s not really room for him to stand beside Chan on the sidewalk, so he just leans in from behind them, hovering without touching Chan. Having an alpha so close is uncomfortable, but Chan tries to smile at him anyway. 

“There’s a lot of us but we’re good people! Mostly!”

“Except Soonyoung-hyung,” Mingyu and Hansol say at once, and both laugh.

Okay, that’s the third time someone has joked about this Soonyoung guy. Chan resolves to avoid him as much as possible—he must be an alpha. In Chan’s experience, alphas who people make jokes like this about are never very friendly, and can always find some fault in an omega’s behavior.

“Anyway,” Seokmin cuts in. “We’re almost there and Chan-ssi still doesn’t know anything!”

“Everyone shut up and let Seokmin talk,” Mingyu calls, and everyone falls silent. Jeonghan rolls his eyes but gestures for Seokmin to go ahead.

And then, speaking at the speed of light, Seokmin tells Chan: “Okay, our pack alpha is named Seungcheol, but he doesn’t really like being called by his full name, he gets soooo sulky about it. It’s not like a big deal though, so actually, don’t worry about it. Anyway, next is Jeonghan-hyung, but you know him already. Then there’s Shua-hyung. He’s just coming off his heat so he probably won’t be downstairs, but he’s really nice! Just don’t let yourself get cornered by Hannie-hyung and Shua-hyung because they are both evil. Then we have Jun-hyung. He’s really funny and kind and—“

“He’s perfect, Chan-ssi,” Seungkwan says vehemently, leaning forward again. “Everyone is morally and legally obligated to love him. But he’s mine.”

Chan dips his head quickly to Seungkwan in a small bow, his eyes wide. He recognizes the threat for what it is. “I’ll stay away—“

“Hey, stop it! Jun-hyung isn’t yours!” Mingyu interrupts, scowling over his shoulder at Seungkwan. “Stop trying to claim him and keep him to yourself. Chan-ssi, don’t listen to Seungkwan, he’s just a weirdo.”

“My love for Moon Junhwi is eternal and everlasting, and I don’t appreciate you questioning it!”

“I’m not questioning it, I’m saying you can’t go all alpha and—“

“Anyway,” Seokmin says, bringing Chan’s attention back to him. He can feel a headache growing from all the noise and the constant tension, waiting for these playful arguments to turn real. “As we've established, Jun-hyung is great. After him is Soonyoung-hyung. He’s…”

“Insane,” Hansol inputs mildly.

“Sexy,” says Jeonghan.

“Well, yes. Hyungie is kind of weird but really he’s a good guy. He’s just intense. But I think he’ll like you!”

Jeonghan nods in agreement before asking, “Are you catching everything so far, Chan-ah?”

“Um.” Chan doesn’t really want to say no. Or that he doesn’t want this Soonyoung guy to take much of an interest in him. “I think so.”

“Okay good. Next is Wonwoo-hyung. He’s kind of shy so don’t get upset with him if he doesn’t talk to you much. He’s a cutie though. After him, we only have two more you haven't met, I think, right? Jihoon-hyung and Myungho?”

Mingyu pauses his and Seungkwan’s continued argument to sigh dreamily. Hansol explains, “Those two are like, his favorites.”

Their words fade to the back of his mind. Two more? How can I possibly remember two more? It's a silly thought when he's already met five, and there are five more names he's just heard. But for some reason this is what sets him off—this is way too much for someone who never leaves home.

Mingyu pouts. “I don’t have favorites….”

“Yes, you do!”

“No, I don’t? Why would you say that?”

He’s feeling overwhelmed; the dynamics of this pack are so confusing to him already. The names jumble in his head—Jeonghan’s not the oldest, was it Joshua then? Or Seungcheol? Everything Seokmin said about them has already slipped his mind. It’s only Jeonghan who feels real, standing beside Chan and laughing little heh-heh-hehs as the rest of the pack speak over each other.

“We’ve all seen how you moon after Jihoon-hyung and how often you carry Myungho around just because he asked. What do you have to say about that? You’re a simp, hyung. It’s embarrassing.”

“I literally hate you.”

Those words make Chan’s ears prick slightly, but he doesn’t tune fully back in. His feet keep him moving even as he considers how difficult it’ll be to remember everything. He can remember the names of his pack members, but they’re his family. He was raised with them, of course he knows them all. This is the exact opposite of that, like being thrown right into the deep end with a cheat sheet but the water made the ink bleed. 

“That’s not what you said the other night—”

“Hey, we have a guest here, can you guys not?”

“He’s bullying me. I’m being bullied by one of my own dongsaengs.”

But I’m only staying for one night, he tells himself. Do I even need to remember all of their names? 

“It’s okay, hyung. Myungho’s my favorite too.”

I should. They’re being kind enough to let me stay in their home, their den, I need to be respectful— 

“I’m offended,” Seungkwan announces, his voice loud right behind Chan's ear.

Chan startles at the sound, but there’s no real anger in Seungkwan’s tone. He glances around, still a little caught up in his thoughts, and finds that Mingyu is blushing and Hansol is smirking.

“We don’t care,” Seokmin tells Seungkwan, who scoffs. “Stop interrupting me! Now, Jihoon-hyung is grumpy but don’t let that bother you, okay, Chan-ah? It’s just because he’s short.”

“Channie is short too,” Jeonghan points out. “Don’t insult his people.”

“My people?” He questions before he can stop himself. As soon as the words are out, he realizes what he’s done—question someone above him. His body goes stiff but no one glares at him or tries to grab him. 

No, they all laugh.

It's… not a mean sound, he doesn't think. Flushed, he glances from face to face and only finds friendly amusement.

“Duh, I meant the shorties,” Jeonghan tells him, smirking. 

“I’m even more offended now,” Seungkwan scoffs again, slapping at Jeonghan’s shoulder. “You’re barely any taller than us, hyung!”

“Stop getting me off track!” Seokmin whines. “I only have one person left and we’re basically home already!”

Disoriented, Chan looks around and realizes that yes, while he’s been caught up in everyone talking and his own shifting thoughts, they’d closed in on one of the big houses. Mingyu opens the gate, and the others file in easily; Chan is the only one who shies away from brushing up against him in the small space.

Mingyu smiles kindly at him, shutting the gate behind the group. Chan watches to make sure he’ll know how to get out if need be. It doesn’t seem complicated, thankfully. 

Once it’s shut and Mingyu rejoins the group, Chan takes a moment to look around. Like the rest of the houses on this street, it's a modern build, much fancier than the home Chan grew up in. The outer walls are mostly white with dark accents, and dim lights that shine on a front porch above their heads. It has wooden stairs leading up to the front door and a stone driveway, at the bottom of which is where their group pauses. 

A sudden and overwhelming urge to run hits him. He’s never been in a pack house like this, yet he can feel how expensive it must be—with multiple floors, big glass windows, and an honest to god yard in Seoul, it all speaks to opulence. 

Chan doesn’t belong here. In his second hand hanbok, heart racing and mind blanking out, he knows he’s too different—he shouldn’t have let Jeonghan—

“Chan-ssi?” Mingyu calls.

Snapping out of it at once, Chan starts to bow in apology, but Jeonghan catches him.

“I—I got lost in thought,” he tries to explain. “Omega-hyung—”

“Shh, just listen,” Jeonghan tells him, pulling him closer. 

A complicated expression lines his face, and Chan doesn’t know him at all, but he thinks maybe…. He feels caught. Like Jeonghan knows what he’s thinking. That he needs to leave.

But if that’s the case, Jeonghan doesn’t acknowledge it at all. Instead, he says, “Seokminnie, go ahead.”

“Okay!” Still gripping the pizza boxes, Seokmin says swiftly, “Last is Myungho, he joined us most recently out of everyone and he’s still a bit shy too. Don’t touch his clothes without permission and you’ll be fine. Got all that?”

“Uhh,” Chan squeaks. 

He knows he shouldn’t talk back, but he hopes no one will expect him to remember, well, most of that. Maybe he can keep track of the names, but all the details otherwise? No chance.

The door opens before he can find something to say, or rather, a safe way to say absolutely not.  

Everyone turns to look up at the figure standing there, a guy whose scent not only radiates alpha more than Seokmin, Mingyu and Seungkwan combined, but also has a flash of heat scent lingering around too. From below, he looks tall and big, but not intimidatingly so. With light coming from behind him, it’s hard to make out his face.

As the others call out greetings, Chan’s breath catches in his throat and his eyes drop immediately. 

That little voice inside him whispers at him, telling him that while all of the men he’s met tonight are attractive, this man is everything an alpha should be, strong muscles and a stronger scent. But the bigger part of him, the part he pays attention to, realizes at once that this is someone well above him. His instincts scream again—run, kneel, submit, run, run.

But Chan can’t, not now. He’s rooted here, his feet like cement blocks holding him in place as the others move forward. They’re all smiling, totally at ease with this man staring down at them. Even Jeonghan, who Chan’s subconscious omega has already begun to cling to, doesn’t seem scared. 

But…by scent alone, he’s sure that this is the pack alpha. Chan forces himself to move, to behave, to not upset this man the first moment they meet.

No one else bows, but he does, as low as he would to Harabeonim.

“…four, five, six?” The guy says, voice starting out near-silent at the beginning and ending at normal volume. Confusion colors his tone. His gaze is heavy on Chan like a physical touch, weighing him down even more. “Do we have a guest?”

“Hi Cheollie. Seokmin’s adopted someone,” Jeonghan says, stepping ahead of the group. His words are straightforward, no room for questioning. Once again, Chan is shocked by how audacious this omega is, to speak to an alpha that way. “His name is Lee Chan and I’m going to sign some papers too.”

The man blinks at them. His eyes linger on Chan for a moment, and it makes his whole body tingle. He’s used to his family alphas—he has no idea what to do except treat him the same way as Harabeonim. 

For a second time, Chan fears that he’ll be upset that his pack members have dragged someone home. Chan doesn’t belong here, no matter what jokes Jeonghan makes.

But the alpha doesn’t come downstairs and force Chan off his property, or scold his pack mates for being so presumptuous to bring a stranger into their home. He just says, “Well, okay. Come in then.”

The man—it must be Seungcheol, Chan thinks faintly, remembering now that he’s the eldest alpha—lets them all go inside before asking any questions. 

Chan looks around briefly, finding the pack house to be large and homey, with light blue walls and lots of light. Tables and shelves are covered in knickknacks and clothing and papers everywhere he looks. Bottles and cups sit on a coffee table absolutely overrun by magazines and remotes and other random things, but the floors are mostly clean in comparison.

Hansol shows him where to take off his shoes, and offers him a pair of black house slippers that seem brand new in comparison to the rest. “These are for guests,” he explains, grabbing ones for himself with psychedelic patterns of flowers on it. “I don’t know how long you’ll want to stay, but you can use them for now.”

“I won’t overstay my welcome, I promise, beta-hyung,” Chan tells him, feeling only a little more comfortable like this. It’s just the two of them by the door still, the rest of the group having grabbed their own slippers and moved towards the center of the room.

Now that he’s inside, a weird feeling has taken hold in his chest: simultaneous relief and anxiety. It’s nice here, the atmosphere light and filled with laughter, no signs of discontent coming from anyone in the room. But at the same time… entering another pack’s den has him on high alert, expecting danger from every corner. He tries to swallow it down.

Hansol just looks at him for a moment, his face impassive enough that it makes Chan regret ever opening his mouth. Then—

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Um, sure.” Chan shuffles on his feet.

“Does your pack make you call people that?”

He blinks. “What, you mean ‘beta-hyung’?”

“Yeah. You called Mingyu alpha earlier, too. Just alpha.”

Chan doesn’t understand the problem, but he feels the need to defend himself anyway. “My family doesn’t make me, they don’t have to. I want to be respectful. You guys are doing a lot for me, I don’t want you to think I don’t know that.”

Hansol pats his shoulder, smiling a little now. “We know, dude. You don’t have to be extra nice to us about it. And, can I be honest with you? None of us really do that with each other. It might make some of the hyungs weird.”

“Make them weird?” Chan questions. Apprehension tightens in his chest. “Will it upset them?”

“Not like how you’re probably thinking. It’s chill, man. Just something we’re not used to.”

Chan glances over at where the rest of the group have congregated, the pizza boxes open and resting precariously on the coffee table with guys hovering around or sitting on the couch. There are new faces already, and Chan tries to search for the one who must be Soonyoung, but can’t tell just by looking. 

There’s a friendly but curious air about them, everyone shooting glances back at Chan and Hansol and looking away when they realize Chan might catch—or really, has caught—them. Chan thinks he should feel relieved that none of them are hounding him for information, and he is, but at the same time…. It hits him all over again that these are strangers. Some of them are even big, buff strangers who have no reason to show Chan any mercy if he upsets them. Which, knowing his track record, is likely.

In a whisper, he asks Hansol, “Should I stop?”

For a second, Hansol doesn’t answer, and when he does, it’s with a shrug. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do. Just giving you some context if someone reacts weird.”

The betas in Chan’s family are not always the most forthcoming people. He can’t remember a time that one of them tried to help one of the omega family members, because Harabeonim doesn’t like it when the omegas need something. So maybe he should be thankful that Hansol has pulled him aside to tell him this. But— 

That’s not helpful at all, Chan thinks, a little frustrated. How is he supposed to find his place here, even if only for one night, if he doesn’t know what will cause problems and what won’t? Where is the line between ‘weird but tolerable’ and ‘weird and annoying’?

Run. If I leave now, then it won’t matter.

He doesn’t have anywhere to go, but maybe being alone would be better. There are less landmines that way. Less feeling like an intruder.

His thoughts are cut off abruptly when Jeonghan calls, “Hansollie, stop hogging Chan-ssi.”

Hansol turns and walks away from Chan, humming as he goes. “Nah, don’t feel like it.”

“Is that any way to talk to your pack omega?” A tall guy Chan hasn’t met yet teases.

“See, Junnie is on my side. This is why he’s my favorite.”

Seungkwan opens his mouth, only for another, shorter guy to slap his hand over it. Mingyu calls through a mouthful of food, “Shut up, Seungkwan!”

There’s muffled curse words and somewhat gentle fighting for a moment as Seungkwan struggles to get free. A chair scrapes against the floor and several people call out taunts—including “Beat him up, Jihoon!” 

Chan stands on the sidelines and watches, hardly able to believe how different this pack is from his family’s. Harabeonim doesn’t like a lot of noise or rough playing, even from the alphas—it’s so odd to Chan that Seungcheol is just… sitting, watching the show in front of him with a grin.

He doesn’t notice Jeonghan watching him until suddenly Jeonghan is standing, a plate in hand, and approaching him. Shoving the plate in his hands, he says, “You only had one slice of pizza earlier, so I saved you some. Aren’t I a good hyung?”

“Yes, thank you, omega-hyung.” He bows, cringing to himself immediately for the instinctual words.

“Aigoo, what are we going to do with you…,” Jeonghan shakes his head. “Is it too noisy in here?”

It is, and Chan’s headache is only getting worse. But he doesn’t want to insult their pack, so he says, “No, no, it’s fine.”

Jeonghan seems to see right through him again. “Let’s go sit down in the dining room. You can meet the guys later.”

Chan hesitantly protests enough to say he tried, but gratefully follows Jeonghan away from the crowd. 

They don’t go far, but having walls between them helps immensely—not only does the noise level go down, but so does the amount of scents. The dining room has a large circular table, plenty of comfortable chairs, and again, a bunch of stuff littering every surface. 

Someone has put an incense stick on a side table, and though it’s not currently burning, it’s given the room a base level scent that covers the riot of the pack. All that’s left is Jeonghan, but he’s wearing a scent blocker, and Chan sighs a little in relief. Slowly, the tension in his back eases as he drops his shoulders down from his ears.

Jeonghan rolls his eyes at the mess and pushes enough of the stuff out of the way that Chan can sit down with his plate. Once he gets another bite, Chan realizes how hungry he is and for the next few minutes, neither of them really speak. Chan eats, and Jeonghan hums little tunes as he idly sorts through the junk on the table. Nothing really gets cleaned, he notices—it just moves from one spot to another.

After a while, Jeonghan says, “Chan-ah, Cheollie wants to talk to you.”

Chan tenses. “Seungcheol? Isn't he your… your pack alpha?”

“Yes, but he’s not scary. I’m going to stay with you and make sure he’s nice.” 

That does help a little. He’s learned how important it is to have allies. Even weird ones. He relaxes slightly, and Jeonghan smiles a lazy grin. 

“There we go, you smell a little less terrified now. Very good, makdoongie. Why don’t you finish your last piece and I’ll go get him?”

Makdoongie? Chan thinks he’s the youngest of the group, yes, but he’s never been called that before. He doesn’t know how he feels about it, being called so affectionately by someone he’s known for so short a time, or the idea that everyone can tell how much he’s freaking out because he can’t control his scent. 

A little patronized, definitely. A little touched, he can’t deny it. 

Blushing, Chan mumbles, “Okay,” and does as he’s told. 

Jeonghan leaves, and Chan hears the noise in the other room rise as everyone greets him. He can’t make out individual words but it’s obvious how much they love him. 

Feeling a little sick, Chan stops trying to eat and starts considering the situation again.

He doesn’t want to go home, not unless he has absolutely no other choice. No matter how much he loves them, he just can’t forget what his family did to Junseo. That little voice inside him has been asking ever since Junseo got sick, what if it happens to me? Would they just let me die too? Would Harabeonim care at all?

No—he can’t go back. But is this the better option? Alone, hours away, with nothing to his name but the clothes on his back? Caught up with a pack so different from his own, they might as well be aliens. A pack where he doesn’t know anyone, or how to act, or what they might do if he messes up.

A place where his instincts keep telling him to leave—though, admittedly, being in this fragrant, quiet room helps dampen the urge.

They’re letting him stay the night, and they’ve fed him. He’s grateful, but he can’t shake the hesitation and fear that’s gripping him when he considers his future at all. A life of monotony, of marrying whoever Eomma and Appa told him to, has fallen away entirely, and now he can’t imagine anything. He can’t even imagine what’s going to happen next. What has he done?

Letting out a little groan, he drops his head.

A creak in the doorway, however, has his bolting right back up. He twists in his chair, expecting Jeonghan and Seungcheol—only to see another guy he hasn’t met. This one looks sleep rumpled and a little puffy, his dark hair a mess and a blanket wrapped around his body so that all Chan can see are bare shoulders and bare feet.

“Um,” says the guy. “Are you one of Seungkwan-ah’s friends? I thought Cheol said no one was coming over until I was done….”

Chan stands and bows in apology. The man shifts, taking a step into the dining room, and it’s only then that Chan recognizes the lingering heat scent around him. It’s faded, but potent enough that he can’t quite catch anything else.

Didn’t Seokmin say that they had a pack mate who was just coming off his heat? Chan can’t fully remember, but clearly it must be the case. Though he has no idea why any omega would risk coming downstairs, where there are alphas, when he still smells like that.

No—it’s his house, how can Chan blame him? The dynamics of his pack are still mostly unknown but it’s not likely he would be in any danger from his own alphas. Right?

Averting his eyes and breathing through his mouth, Chan says, “No, I’m… I’m a guest for the night.”

The guy frowns a little. “Oh, okay….”

“I’m sorry,” he bursts out, bowing again. He knows from experience that not all omegas are kind like Junseo was—and having their heat intruded on must be one of the worst ways to upset another omega. “I can—I’ll go, I’ll—“

He cuts off when Jeonghan appears behind the unknown man, Seungcheol trailing behind. 

“Why are you out of bed?” Jeonghan tsks, sliding around until the other omega is caught between him and Seungcheol. “I thought it wasn’t going to fully break until later. Is it done already?  Have you had anything to drink recently? Water, not that weird juice Seungkwan-ah likes.”

“Hannie,” he yawns, “I love you, but I do not have enough brain power to be accosted with questions right now. Especially when there’s a new person here. My brain is still in half-feral mode. What if I attacked him?”

“You wouldn’t,” says Jeonghan, who is way more confident about this than Chan is. 

Seemingly amused, Seungcheol wraps his arm around the other omega, taking care not to jostle his blanket, and tells Jeonghan, “Shua-yah’s got a point, you know.”

Chan watches with his heart in his throat as Jeonghan gives Seungcheol a short, defiant look. Chan’s never seen pack members interact like this before. Omegas in his family know better than to talk back to an alpha—there are consequences to doing something like this, even with the smallest of actions.

But Seungcheol doesn’t even blink, smiling lazily at the omega in front of him. 

“Cheollie would never let you do that, Joshuji. He would’ve come in here and stopped you right away.”

“Uh-huh. Riiiight. Best alpha ever,” he says sarcastically, fighting off another yawn. “Where’s Gyu?”

Like with Seungkwan earlier, Jeonghan pets the man and coos, “He’s just in the living room, baby.”

“Before you go find him—Shua, this is Lee Chan. Chan-ssi, this is Hong Joshua,” Seungcheol says, brief but polite. His expression doesn’t change much as Chan bows again, saying a perfect greeting even though they already spoke. Joshua greets him back, but it’s clear he’s distracted, words trailing off and his head twitching towards the doorway.

After, Jeonghan steps further into the room, and Seungcheol sends Joshua down the hall towards the rest of the pack. His heat scent goes with him, and Chan swallows roughly, relieved the other omega didn’t seem too troubled.

“What’s this about you leaving?” Jeonghan makes an innocent face at him. “I thought you liked us, Chan-ah.”

“Don’t make him feel like he can’t say no, Hannie,” Seungcheol admonishes. 

Jeonghan sulks. Stop it, you’re just going to upset him, Chan thinks desperately, but his telepathic message doesn’t seem to go through. 

How can Jeonghan have read him so well before, but not now?

“Oh, fine.”

Seungcheol doesn’t close the door behind him, but his presence fills up the room anyway. Chan bows quickly, and falls back into his chair, anxiety burning in his chest as Seungcheol comes and takes Jeonghan’s seat. The omega doesn’t go far, though, leaning against Seungcheol’s shoulders and looming over him.

This close, Seungcheol’s scent is overwhelming. It’s only now that Chan sniffs the air, hopefully subtly, and finds that it’s not all alpha musk. Joshua’s heat scent is there too, but more than that, he smells like… cherries. Like peaches, and maybe coconut? It’s a far more summery, sweet scent than alphas usually have.

It’s also very different from his Harabeonim’s much more severe leather scent.

If he’s honest with himself… he can admit he likes Seungcheol’s scent. Still, Chan tries not to breathe through his nose too much.

Maybe he can tell, because Seungcheol smiles at him. It’s not nearly as friendly as Seokmin’s, but that must be a hard bar to clear. Even having only known Seokmin for a short time, he knows that much.

“We haven’t been properly introduced yet. I’m Choi Seungcheol, I’m the alpha of this pack but you might’ve noticed this one is really the boss,” he says, gesturing to Jeonghan, whose face stays placidly calm. 

What? He looks between them, and Seungcheol laughs, but he doesn’t take the words back. Is he being serious?

Chan swallows down all of his roiling thoughts and emotions, and tries to nod like a normal person. Perfectly polite, he replies, “It’s nice to meet you, alpha.”

Like Mingyu earlier, Seungcheol’s face twitches, the corner of his mouth turning down. 

“You don’t need to call me that, kid. As long as you’re here, you can just call me hyung, everyone else does.”

“I—I,” Chan splutters. He opens his mouth and then closes it, fear halting any words on his tongue before they can tumble out.

He thinks of his own pack, what would happen if anyone tried to call Harabeonim more casually, and wraps his arms around his stomach. The stiff fabric of his hanbok shifts uncomfortably but he ignores it. His heart is pounding in his chest.

“I can’t do that.” Then, as if it explains everything, “You’re pack alpha.”

And to him, that does explain everything. The pack alpha should always be shown respect, because he could kick Chan out at any time. Harabeonim keeps the family together and proper at all times. He made sure that Chan knew, growing up, how to act and how the world works. Maybe Seungcheol is different from him, but he’s still at the top, and Chan wouldn’t dare to treat him like anything less than that.

“I am pack alpha, you're right.” He pauses, ducking his head and moving in a little closer, trying to meet Chan’s eyes. They lock for only a second before Chan averts his gaze. He looks down at his hands, where his fingers are worrying at the inside of his sleeve.

He hears Seungcheol sigh, his insides trembling at the sound. 

“I’m giving you permission to call me hyung. Okay?” 

At that, Chan’s head immediately snaps back up. He can’t quite bring himself to meet the alpha’s stare. He shakes his head without even realizing what he’s doing. “Alpha, I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

What a silly question. Still not daring to meet his eyes, he says, “It’s not right.”

Jeonghan grabs the back of Seungcheol’s chair and leans forward as he speaks. “Yah, there’s no need to be submissive. He can take it.” 

Seungcheol grabs his wrist, rubbing his thumb over the scent gland there. At some point, Chan realizes, he must’ve taken off the scent blocker. Having the gland stimulated makes a gentle scent fill the air between them, starting out a little agitated and soon coming to be more calm. It tastes like vanilla latte on Chan’s tongue.

“Chan-ssi, this isn’t going to change our minds about you staying the night. We just want to get to know you a little better, and let you get to know us.”

Chan swallows and doesn’t reply, keeping his eyes low. 

Seungcheol sighs. “Alright, that’s okay. Let me tell you about us, okay?”

They wait for Chan to nod before Seungcheol begins to tell him, in bare details, about their pack. Years ago, Seungcheol had become friends with Lee Jihoon and Kwon Soonyoung, two guys he met on the train every day as they headed to work. As Jeonghan says it, ‘a lot of stuff happened’, and they ended up living together. 

The other pack mates came after that, first Wonwoo, then Mingyu, then Junhui. After that, the rest of the pack came in fits and starts, filling up their old apartment until they were forced—and luckily able to—apply for a pack house.

“Some of them were runaways who needed somewhere to stay,” Seungcheol tells him seriously. “We’ve had people who did only stay for a night or two, and it was fine.”

Jeonghan runs his fingers through Seungcheol’s hair. “Our pack isn’t traditional, is what he means.” 

“Right. Now, I don’t know what your pack is like, but we’re probably pretty different. I’m not your boss, Chan-ssi. As long as you want to stay, you’ll be our guest, but you don’t have to kowtow to me or call me alpha.”

Chan can’t imagine not doing so. Even if Seungcheol says it, who knows if he actually means that?

When he looks up at them, he finds both men watching him with something pensive in their eyes. They’re waiting for him to answer, he thinks. So he sits up straight and bows his head, saying to his lap, “I understand.”

A sudden sound outside the room has them all jumping. The front door opens and shuts with a slam, and Chan flinches so hard it hurts. Seungcheol reacts, nose twitching as he stands up at once. He stalks towards the door, sticking his head out to see what’s happening. Loud voices filter in, no words but a few laughs and what sounds like friendly jeers from the tone. 

“It’s just Soonyoung and Myungho,” Seungcheol says, tension falling out of his shoulders. Closing the door, he comes back over to where they’re sitting, falling back into his seat. “Sorry, Chan-ssi.”

The fright must have loosened Chan’s tongue, because without thinking, he asks, “Why are you saying sorry?”

“Well, for one thing, I didn’t want to trap you in here,” he says dryly. “You can leave whenever you want.”

“But this way, no one will intrude,” Jeonghan adds. “Here, a closed door is closed. We have to have privacy somehow. No one will bother us unless it’s an emergency.”

Chan doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. So far, these two haven’t done anything to him, but Seungcheol was right—he doesn’t like being enclosed in here with two people who could easily get away with whatever they want. Jeonghan is an omega like him, sure, but it’s becoming clearer the longer he’s here that Seungcheol was being serious when he said Jeonghan is the boss, too. They act like equals. 

“Okay,” is all he can think of to say. It makes him look stupid but his brain isn’t really fully working right now.

“Maybe you can tell us a little about you now,” Seungcheol prods gently. 

Chan shifts in his seat, not sure where to even start. Taking a breath of Jeonghan’s still calm scent helps a little.

“Um, okay. I’m twenty-three and I come from a family pack. We live just outside of Iksan. My Harabeonim is our pack alpha. I have a younger alpha brother who—“

“Cheollie, I’m gonna go sit with Channie,” Jeonghan says suddenly, interrupting Chan’s wooden answer. 

Chan shuts up at the sound of his voice. He can do nothing but watch as Jeonghan grabs a chair and comes to sit beside Chan, obviously pumping out more of his scent as he goes. Seungcheol relaxes further into his own chair, like maybe the pheromones are getting to him a little, but to Chan they just make him feel nervous. He’s not used to omegas doing anything like this, so obviously trying to calm another person down.

Or, well. That’s not quite true. He’s used to doing it himself. Not it being done to him.

Now, Jeonghan is in range to brush their shoulders against each other. At first, Chan tenses up, glancing at Seungcheol, who surely won’t be happy to see one of his pack mates, maybe even his mate, getting close to another person. But Seungcheol doesn’t seem angry, just watching them with a little smile.

“That’s all very nice, Channie, but we want to know more about you.”

Chest tight, all Chan can say is, “There’s not much to know.”

Jeonghan scans his face for a long moment. “Hmm. Okay. Then what happened today?”

Shutting his eyes, he turns his head away. “There was a funeral for my cousin in law, Junseo-hyung.”

“Oh Channie, I’m sorry. Were you close?”

Tears sting and slip over his cheeks quietly. “Yes.” 

In their family, the lines between the genders are clearly marked and one doesn’t step over it lightly. Chan knew Junseo better than he knows his own brother, because Geon was always put with the alpha cousins while Chan was put with the omegas. Junseo wasn’t the first omega to join the family after Chan was born, but he was the closest in age to Chan, only a few years older and from a family who spent a lot more time with each other than the Lees do. He sought Chan out, and they became friends over time. Subin even let Chan come to their home, and it was like Chan was finally making a space for himself in his family, no longer just the useless youngest omega, but someone’s friend. Someone’s favorite little cousin.

“He was the only who ever treated me like—“ Chan cuts himself off, clearing his throat to get rid of the wobble in his words.

He doesn’t realize what his scent is doing, filling the room with all the grief that’s been pent up the last few months. Taking a second to control himself, he ignores the older men and tries to erase every memory of Junseo from the forefront of his mind.

Sniffling once, he continues in a whisper, “I just couldn’t stay there any longer. I… I don’t want to go back.”

Neither Seungcheol nor Jeonghan ask why. Rubbing his own leg, Seungcheol says, “I’m glad my pack mates found you, Chan-ah.”

Exhausted now, Chan bows in thanks. “Is that enough information?”

Seungcheol nods. “You can stay as long as you need. Do you have any clothes you can change into?”

“No. No, I only have… this.”

“That’s okay. I’m sure we have something you can change into somewhere.” Seungcheol stands. “I’ll be right back. Hannie, maybe you can show him the room.”

Jeonghan agrees easily, though he doesn’t stand up until Seungcheol is gone.

“We can head up whenever you’re ready,” he says, stretching. “The clothes will probably come from Seungkwannie. Is that okay?”

An alpha’s clothes don’t sound bad in comparison to funeral wear.

“Yeah, omega-hyung, it’s okay. Can we go up now?”

Jeonghan guides him upstairs without a complaint, rubbing soothing circles on Chan’s shoulder. The room he’s being allowed to sleep in is at the far end of one hall, tucked in the corner with the door shut. Jeonghan brings him inside but doesn’t step too far in, waving his hands as he says, “This is it. It’s not much but I hope you like it anyway.”

“I do, omega-hyung,” Chan tells him, even though he’s not paying much attention to it as the day crashes down around him. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he says, “I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t meet everyone.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s too late to meet so many new people. Once Cheollie gets back with some pajamas, we’ll leave you be for the night.”

Chan feels like he should say something to that, a token protest or a desperate thank you for everything they’ve done for him today. But nothing comes. Jeonghan doesn’t seem to mind, going to the closet and making noises to himself at whatever he sees inside it. That’s how Seungcheol finds them, Jeonghan snooping and Chan trying and failing to behave like a normal person.

“They’re Seungkwannie’s, but they were just washed, so there shouldn’t be any of his scent on them,” Seungcheol explains. “If they won’t work, I can find something else?”

There is a faint hint of citrusy alpha on them, but Chan can’t imagine turning them away. Taking them gratefully, he says, “This is fine, thank you, alpha.”

“Aigoo,” Jeonghan sighs, not unkindly.

Flushing, Chan starts, “I’m sorry—“

Seungcheol shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, Chan-ssi. Just get some rest. We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Chan nods miserably, waiting for them to walk away and hopefully far enough down the hall that they won’t hear him lock the door. It probably wouldn’t keep someone out if they really wanted in, but it makes him feel better that he can put some kind of barrier between himself and the rest of the world.

At least for tonight, he has somewhere he can be alone. He survived a day without his family. So far, this pack hasn’t done anything but confuse and slightly overwhelm him. Beginning to untie his hanbok, he tells himself that Junseo would be proud.

One day at a time, Lee Chan. One day at a time.

Chapter Text

Chan never really plans to stay long. 

The first night is the hardest. He spends it spiraling, scolding himself for being so stupid as to leave the only home, the only family, he's ever known. All of his earlier conviction flees him in the face of a lonely, strange place.

Even the guest room smells like a riot of unfamiliar scents and it keeps him up, feeling unsafe and uncomfortable. 

His conversation with Seungcheol and Jeonghan, the obvious leaders of the pack, maybe helped a little bit—but it’s still worlds away from his childhood bedroom back home, which only smells like him.

“Just calm down,” he tells himself, futile. “It's only one night.”

Unsurprisingly, it doesn't work.

He hears other people up all night, faint music and chatting from elsewhere in the house, so he doesn’t feel too bad about sneaking out of bed. He can hardly sit still with the feelings crawling around in his gut.

When he looks in the closet, wondering what intrigued Jeonghan so much, he only finds blankets, so soft and comfortable that Chan knows they must be for nesting. He doesn’t dare touch them. 

Why they’d be here, in the closet of a guest room, he doesn’t know. 

He’s not sure what the bed situation is like for the rest of the pack, if they have to share rooms or if they have their own, but he doesn’t think they’d ever put a pregnant omega in a room by themselves. It would just be cruel.

Even though his fingers are itching to grab one, he leaves them be and doesn’t go back to snooping in the closet. 

Huddling back in the bed, he sleeps for a while, but it’s fitful and restless. His dreams are full of his parents and Harabeonim, chasing him to Seoul and dragging him back to be punished.

By the time morning comes, he’s wide awake.

In the rooms around him, he doesn’t hear much for a while. Finally, around six AM, a door across the hall creaks open. 

Instinctively, Chan curls further into the blankets as if they’d protect him, staring at his locked door in suspense. 

Will Seungcheol come and say he's changed his mind and that Chan has to go now? Will he tell Chan that last night was a test, and he somehow failed it? Will he be punished for intruding?

The fear rises higher and higher in Chan until he's trembling. But… none of those things happen.

Instead, footsteps lightly move down the hall, away from the guest room. There’s no knock on his door, or any other door as far as Chan can hear. 

The farther away they get, the more the adrenaline leaves Chan's body. Laying limp, he stares at the door as if it could possibly tell him anything.

It doesn't. He scents the air, hoping to find out who it was at least. But he catches nothing at all through the mess of sheets and the firm barrier of the shut door. 

With nothing to go off of and too unsure of the potential consequences, Chan stays in bed for a while longer, even though he hates to linger. He has to pee, too. But the fear of the unknown keeps him there far longer than he would normally stay in. What if it was Seungcheol, waiting to question him? What if it was Seokmin, coming to say this was all a mistake and he needed to leave? What if—

“Stop it, Lee Chan,” he whispers to himself forcefully. 

When he can’t take it anymore, he throws the sheets off and gets to his feet. Like he would if he were at home, he quickly makes his bed. No, not his bed—the guest bed. 

Opening the door reveals no one in the hall and most of the doors he can see are shut. Straining his ears, he finds faint sound coming from downstairs, too quiet to make out what it is.

He freezes in the doorway, considering turning right back around. But… he knows he can't hide forever. And he really needs to pee.

Steeling himself, Chan goes. 

He feels like a child sneaking around, but he doesn’t know what anyone will do if he accidentally wakes them up and he doesn’t want to risk it. So he stays on tip toes until he’s downstairs, breathing a sigh of relief when he makes it down. In the light of day and without a bunch of guys around, he has a chance to look around more.

The pack house is beautiful, barring all the mess. Big, cracked open windows let in a cool breeze and just enough light to give everything a hazy glow. The walls are adorned with paintings and photos, some of the pack members and some of various sights around Seoul and other places Chan can't name. A little bit above Chan’s height, someone has scotch-taped a printed out picture of a majestic tiger on the wall. 

Curious despite himself, Chan looks under it and is surprised to find a hole in the wall in the vague shape of a fist.

Okay then, he thinks, letting the picture fall back into place. It’s not a great sign, but he knows alphas can sometimes get too upset. One of his older alpha cousins punched a hole in the wall after an argument with Halmeonim once. With several alphas here, all so close in age, they must have issues with this. Rubbing his arms, he makes himself walk away.

Other than that one oddity, he doesn’t find anything else weird. Well, except the enormous photos of Jeonghan and Seungkwan where they’re dressed like old ahjussis and posing awkwardly. 

It looks lived in. More like a home than his own tends to, since Harabeonim doesn’t like mess and Eomma keeps all her pictures pressed in books.

He finds a bathroom on the way to the kitchen. Someone has made a sign on the door that says “97z” in spiky letters, accompanied by drawings of… two dogs and a frog? On the sink, there's a frankly ridiculous amount of hair gel and makeup laying haphazardly on the marble.

Yes, this pack is definitely different from his own. Halmeonim would never allow this sort of mess.

Once he’s done and his hands are washed, he wanders around for a moment, lost in the unfamiliar home. It’s only once he hears sounds—low humming, plastic scraping on metal, and something sizzling—that he’s able to find his way.

The kitchen is large, with two ovens, two refrigerators, and wide open counters. On the other side of the room, two tables have been pushed together. These are relatively clean, with napkins, salt and pepper sitting in the middle. With overhead lights and the sun shining in, it feels like a bubble of safety—too warm and comfortable to be scary.

Standing there at one of the stoves is the tall guy from last night, a sizzling pan in hand. A delicious scent fills the air, making Chan realize just how hungry he is. 

At the funeral, when everyone else was eating, he couldn’t make himself do it. All he really ate yesterday was pizza, which was good, but definitely not enough. 

Caught by the almost-familiar smell, he steps into the kitchen, making the floor creak under his weight.

“Oh! Hello,” the guy says, smiling over his shoulder at Chan. His eyes glitter even in the simple light of the kitchen, his smile friendly and inviting. “You’re the guest of honor, huh?”

Flushing, Chan says, “No, no, I’m just… staying the night.”

“Eh, close enough. Jeonghan-hyung doesn’t adopt just anyone. You’ll stay for breakfast, won’t you?”

Chan doesn’t want to tell him that he has nowhere else to go. Instead he puts on his most appeasing tone, saying truthfully, “It smells very good beta-hyung, I wouldn’t dare pass it up. Um, what is it exactly?”

He laughs, stirring the pan. “Kimchi eggs. Have you had it before?”

“My eomma used to make it a lot,” Chan replies, thinking back on those times when he was a child and it wasn’t such a bad thing to be an omega. It’s a little cuter on kids to be clingy and sensitive—not so much for adults in their twenties who haven’t amounted to anything at all.

“I’ll try my best to live up to her standards,” he says, bowing theatrically. Before Chan can figure out what to say to that, the man frowns. “Wait, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Wen Junhui, but I go by Junhwi too. Or Jun. Or hey, you there. Whatever, I don’t care.”

This is the guy that Seungkwan was trying to claim last night, he realizes. 

As he listens to him laugh at himself, Chan thinks he can understand a little why someone would like him. There’s an easy air around him that leaves Chan almost… relaxed. His scent isn’t too overwhelming, just a tangy but muted beta scent. He likes it.

“Lee Chan,” he says, though he’s sure that everyone in the pack must already know his name. Then, shyly, he makes a guess: “Nǐ hǎo.”

Junhui lights up at the words, pushing the pan off the burner to turn around and face Chan. Excitedly, he asks, “Nǐ shuō zhōngwén ma?”

Chan can’t help the confused face he makes. He knows the first word, ‘you’, but the rest of it is beyond him. He shakes his head. “Sorry, I only know how to say hello.”

Junhui’s smile doesn’t fade. “That’s okay, you said it very well,” he praises, and Chan has to stop himself from squirming.

“Wh-what did you ask?”

With another laugh, Junhui says, “I asked if you speak Chinese.”

“Oh,” Chan blushes. Feeling very much like a stupid omega, he tries to rally himself. He needs to do something to pay this pack back for their kindness. “Uh, beta-hyung, I wanted to ask if you need any help?”

Junhui thinks for moment before nodding and setting him to work on some toast. 

“How much should I make?”

“Hmm, Jihoonie, Wonu and Hao probably won’t want any, but Gyu-yah, Cheol-hyung and Soonyoungie like to have a lot. So, twenty pieces? Plus whatever you want.”

“I don’t want to waste all of your bread…”

Junhui hums. “Don’t worry about it. We can always get more. Think about it like this: Cheol-hyung, Shua-hyung, and Jihoonie only have money so they can feed us.”

But I’m not part of the pack, Chan thinks, getting to work cooking with unease roiling inside his chest. Their money isn’t meant to be spent on me. I don’t want to be one of those omegas who take advantage.

That thought suddenly reminds Chan of something Junseo said once—that anyone can take advantage of other people. It’s not something only omegas do, or should be scolded for. 

Frowning to himself, he can imagine Junseo saying something like, And shouldn’t you listen to the beta-hyung who actually belongs to this pack and would know how his mates would feel?

It’s too much to consider right then, already threatening to bring his headache from yesterday back. Even just the memory of Junseo is enough to have his eyes pricking with tears, and the last thing he wants to do is cry in front of Junhui.

Changing the subject, he asks, “Do you make breakfast every day?”

“Hmm, not every day. Sometimes I have to be out of the house too early to make anything. Usually, Shua-hyung and Mingyu help me either way, but they’re not up yet.”

An omega, beta, and alpha working together to make breakfast for their pack. These people are so weird, Chan thinks, but it’s almost… a nice weird. Back home, the alphas never help with the chores. They make the money so that there’s a roof above the heads of the betas and omegas, whose only jobs are to take care of the pack and make sure the house is clean. 

“That’s good,” Chan says lamely. 

An awkward silence descends after, and Chan sighs at himself, annoyed. Why is he so bad at talking? None of his other cousins are like this. It’s only him who’s useless.

Maybe Junhui can tell, or maybe he’s just the saint that Seungkwan said he is, because he asks, “Do you cook much?”

From there, they keep talking as they finish up with breakfast. Junhui mostly picks up the slack whenever Chan can’t find anything to say, and he never seems to judge Chan for it either. When the beta explains he teaches martial arts to kids of all ages, it makes perfect sense where all of his patience is coming from.

Chan helps him put the toast and kimchi eggs on plates, and make a pot of coffee. As they finish up, the faint sounds from upstairs get louder, as if the pack can tell that breakfast is ready.

Junhui has a sappy smile on his face as he sits, not waiting for anyone else before digging in. Chan hesitates, used to the way his family does it where the youngest omegas eat last. 

“It’s okay, sit down,” Junhui says through a mouthful of food. “Mornings aren’t formal.”

So Chan sits, and begins to eat even though the pack alpha isn’t even in the room. The first few bites are difficult, his eyes straying towards the door. His shoulders raise as he eats, expecting Seungcheol to come into the room at any moment, ready to scold and shame Chan.

He knows better than this, he does. It’s stupid to just listen to a beta he doesn’t know, no matter how nice Junhui seems. Trusting a stranger just because he’s hungry is a terrible idea.

But… nothing happens. In fact, no one comes through the door for several minutes, even though the sounds from upstairs get continuously louder.

A still mostly-unfamiliar tangy scent leaks into the air, a little sharper now but in a pleasant way, like the first biting sip of lemonade. Chan inhales it by accident, swallowing down the taste.

When he looks at Junhui, the older man is innocently eating his breakfast, though Chan catches him peeking out of the corner of his eye.

It's just as weird as last night when Jeonghan did it. But knowing that Junhui is even more of a stranger and he's still trying to help leaves Chan feeling touched, if awkward. His anxious thoughts over who to trust ease further into the back of his mind.

If nothing else, it distracts him from his fear of eating first.

Taking a bite of the kimchi eggs, Chan savors it carefully. 

“Thank you, beta-hyung,” he murmurs, not just for the food. “It tastes delicious.”

“Better than your eomma’s?” Junhui asks, sly.

Chan swallows roughly, about to speak when another voice calls, “Junnie, don’t be rude.”

Jumping, he turns around and sees another of the tallest guys in the pack—another beta, he thinks, with glasses and shaggy black hair. With him comes a cloud of earthy scent, like ginseng. 

He steps right up to the table, moving around Chan to get to Junhui, who leans into the other beta’s orbit like it’s nothing. Leaning down, they share a brief kiss before the guy stands up straight again and goes to grab food.

Chan blinks at them. Okay, he thinks. Yesterday, he’d sort of got the sense that Seungcheol and Jeonghan were together, and Seungkwan and Hansol. Probably Joshua and Mingyu too. 

But this is his first real piece of proof that any of the pack members are together. 

It makes him feel a little shy to have seen them kiss in front of him. He almost wants to look away, but that’s silly—it’s already too late. 

Junhui isn’t paying attention anymore, anyway. Following the guy, he wraps himself around his back and asks, “Poor Wonu-yah, did you sleep at all last night?”

“No,” the guy—Wonwoo—grumbles. 

Whatever they say next is lost as more people come downstairs, the sound of feet on the steps loud enough to draw Chan’s eyes away from the couple in front of him. 

Seokmin trudges down, wrapped up in a blanket, and stumbles through the kitchen until he bumps into Junhui and Wonwoo. Instead of moving, he just… leans against them and lets them take his weight. The older two men don’t react at all.

“Seokmin-ah, get up,” Joshua calls, coming in next. He sees Chan sitting there frozen, and gives him a friendly smile. “Oh, hi Chan. How are you? I’m a little more alive now, myself. Uh, it is Chan, right?”

“Um. Yes, it is, and I’m okay,” Chan says, forcing himself to answer so he doesn’t have a repeat of earlier. “Junhui-hyung made really good breakfast.”

“It smells delicious—“

“I’m sooo hungry,” Jeonghan whines, suddenly in the doorway too. He’s fully dressed but acting like he’s still half-asleep. Just like Seokmin, he stumbles forward until he bumps into Joshua and slumps into his arms. “Shua-yah, feed me.”

“No, you should feed me,” Joshua retorts, pushing him away with a laugh. “I’m still recovering, you know.”

“Are we feeding each other?” Seokmin asks, standing up straight to excitedly look at the hyungs. Somehow, despite being half-asleep moments ago, he’s suddenly full of energy. “Count me in.”

It’s like a tornado has come in. Chan sits and tries to stay out of the way, listening as at least three different conversations happen at once. 

It gets even more crowded as Seungcheol, Seungkwan, and Hansol come into the room too. Hansol waves, and Seungkwan passes by to say hello briefly before heading towards the counter.

Chan clutches his chopsticks and waits for Seungcheol to scold him—but Seungcheol just meets his eyes, nods, and moves on. He doesn't seem angry at all. He just grabs his own plate and moves around his pack mates with ease, a smile on his face.

What?

Mind going a little blank, Chan turns back to his food and eats woodenly. The tornado rages behind his back. He doesn't even notice when Mingyu comes in, stacking his plate high with toast.

At least most of them sit down—Wonwoo doesn’t, but Junhui returns to his spot next to Chan. Jeonghan, Joshua, and Seokmin come and sit down on the other side of the table, chatting the whole time. Seungkwan steals the spot next to Junhui, and Hansol follows suit, rounding the corner of the table and ending up next to Seokmin. Mingyu takes the next open spot, leaving only two chairs between him and Chan. 

“Morning,” he whispers.

“G-good morning, alpha-hyung,” Chan mumbles back.

As Seungcheol sits too, between Jeonghan and Seungkwan, Mingyu's attention shifts to the pack alpha.

“Hey, everyone,” Seungcheol starts, only raising his voice a little. The whole table goes quiet. “Let me introduce our guest for anyone who hasn't met him yet. Guys, this is Lee Chan-ssi. Chan-ssi, this is the Choi pack.”

Embarrassed by all the attention, Chan bows his head politely. “Please take care of me.”

“Of course we will!”

“It's nice to meet you, again!”

“Chan-ssi, do you prefer water or juice? Or milk? Coffee?”

“Wait, how old is he? Do we have a new maknae?”

“Are you staying long?”

“Okay, let’s not overwhelm him… go ahead and dig in, our Junpi made this for you to eat, you know?”

“Chan-ssi helped,” Junhui says proudly. 

Across the table, Seungcheol smiles at Chan. Around them, the others start chatting all over again, several conversations overlapping each other. It feels impossible to follow along, and so he doesn't try, his ears ringing from all the attention and noise.

As he keeps eating, Chan finds himself feeling weirdly… lonely. Othered. He keeps his head down, listening to the sound of their voices rather than the actual words.

Of course these people will prefer to sit with their pack mates rather than with the guy who’s just visiting. But it’s uncomfortable, being the obvious odd one out. 

Even the other omegas fit in perfectly well, sitting beside each other and giggling over whatever they’re talking about. 

It’s only Chan who doesn’t have a place here.

Someone pops their head in, another person Chan hasn’t met. His eyes scan over the room, skipping right over Chan. To whoever is listening, he says, “Hey, Soonyoung-hyung and I are going to head out now. We’ll be back later.”

“Okay, bye, Hao,” Seungcheol says, followed by a chorus of other voices, and the guy leaves with a wave.

“Don't forget to eat something!” Mingyu calls.

“I won't!”

There's another voice out in the hall, words Chan can't make out, and then a door opens and shuts.

“He won't let them forget, right?” Seokmin asks worriedly.

Jeonghan reaches behind Joshua to pat Seokmin's back. “Don't worry, baby, you know they'll take care of each other.” 

Chan tries to remember which one is ‘Hao’, but he can’t. Junhui called someone Hao earlier too, but when Seokmin gave him the rundown of the pack, no one had mentioned a Hao. 

All that’s left for him to meet, if he’s remembering correctly, is Soonyoung, Jihoon, and Myungho. 

He can’t believe there’s this many people in this pack already, and still three more for him to meet. Or four? It doesn’t make sense to him that Seokmin would leave someone out, but maybe it was an accident. Thirteen people is a lot to remember.

Feeling himself getting melancholy and wanting to avoid that as much as possible, he finishes eating quickly, and stands, heading to the sink without speaking to anyone. If nothing else, he can clean up his own mess.

Wonwoo is still standing there, chewing on a piece of toast as he watches his pack interact. When Chan approaches, he tips his head in a small greeting.

“Jeon Wonwoo,” he says.

Chan straightens his back and gives a slightly more proper bow. “Lee Chan. Sorry, I’m just trying to get to the sink….”

Wonwoo moves out of the way but doesn’t go far, watching him curiously. Chan tries not to fumble the dish and break it in the sink, feeling caught under his intense gaze.

“Are you insane yet?”

“Wh-what?” Chan twists his head to meet Wonwoo’s eyes, asking, “Me?”

Wonwoo nods. 

This close, he looks attractive, Chan can’t deny it, the thought flashing in his mind unbidden. He swallows.

Scanning his face, Wonwoo seems completely serious—his mouth a straight line and his eyes intense. It doesn't seem like a joke. He’s not sure what Wonwoo means or why he’d ask that, and the confusion wins out. 

The only thing that he can think of that Wonwoo might mean is omega hysteria. There are some people who still think that it’s a real diagnosis, but it was debunked a long time ago. Plus, Chan doesn’t think he gives off that vibe (maybe a little depressed, sure, but there's nothing to be done about that). 

Not even Harabeonim really believes in that old nonsense. How could someone from this unconventional pack think so?

“I don’t know what you mean, but no, I’m not,” he mumbles, turning away.

But Wonwoo doesn’t let him ignore him. Sighing, he gentles his tone when he says, “I don’t mean it whatever way you’re taking it. Sorry, I should have worded it differently. I meant, has my pack scared you off yet? Soonyoung’s not even here, so I hope not.”

“Okay,” Chan bursts out, splashing his hands in the water on accident. The words spill out of him without warning, his worries boiling over. “Why does everyone keep saying that stuff about this Soonyoung guy? Is he a criminal or something?”

Because Chan’s life is a joke, he says it just loud enough for everyone to hear, which they do, because all of their conversations lulled at once. And of course this is when another person shows up in the doorway, chest bare and eyes hardly open. Half the group laughs at Chan, giggles filling the air—the other half catcall the man who Chan assumes must be Jihoon, just based on his height.

Wonwoo is the only one who bothers to answer Chan’s question, chuckling as he says fondly, “Nah, he’s just crazy.”

“What did you call me, Jeon Wonwoo?” Jihoon(?) demands, waking up a little to glare at Wonwoo.

“Nothing, Jihoon-ah—“

“Hyung, you missed it! Channie asked if Soonyoung-hyung is a criminal,” Seokmin giggles. 

“He is,” Jihoon says vehemently, slumping at the table without picking up anything to eat. He ends up taking Chan’s seat next to Junhui, and doesn’t seem to realize until he’s sat down. His nose twitches and he asks, “What’s this smell? I don’t recognize it.”

Chan’s head goes light at all the attention, the laughing, and the idea that his scent might be unpleasant to anyone in this pack. 

Like most people, he struggles to catch his own scent, but he’s been told before it’s like cinnamon. Sweet, but not a typical omega scent. Just another reason to wish he was anything else.

With so many people in the room, he can’t tell what Jihoon is—omega, beta, or alpha. But either way, if Jihoon doesn’t like it… inside, his instincts whine pitifully. He doesn’t even know this man, but it doesn’t matter.

Embarrassment sits like a pit in his chest. He can only hope his scent isn’t very off-putting. 

“Wake up, Jihoonie,” Seungcheol says, though not unkindly. “You stole Chan-ssi’s seat.”

“Oooooh,” echo Hansol and Seokmin. Everyone looks at Chan like they expect him to throw a fit about it, egged on by the childish teasing.

“It’s okay,” Chan says quickly. 

Joshua leans forward with a terrible smirk on his face. “Seat stealing is a capital offense, though.”

Seriously, Mingyu replies, “Okay, get out the paddle.”

What? Chan’s breathing picks up. He thinks—hopes—that’s a joke. 

“I’ll just get up,” Jihoon sighs, rolling his eyes.

“No, really, it’s fine,” Chan says, cringing at the annoyance in the other man’s voice. 

He’s reached his breaking point all at once—embarrassed and overwhelmed, he wants to get away and hide in the bed they let him use until his heart rate can go down. There’s just so many people here, so many strangers. Alphas and betas and omegas he doesn’t know at all. They all talk to each other with such familiarity, such love, and even though they’ve all more or less been kind to him, he knows he doesn’t belong.

Hurrying past the table, he blurts out, voice wobbling, “I was gonna go anyway.”

He only makes it to the stairs before someone comes after him.

It’s Seungkwan. His presence stops Chan halfway up, but Seungkwan doesn’t try to chase him any further. He stops at the bottom of the steps, even though he’s an alpha, and Chan is an omega, and Seungkwan has every right to do whatever he wants right now.

“You’re freaking out,” Seungkwan says, blunt but somehow not entirely rude. His voice is too soft for that. There’s a frown on his face that even Chan can tell is worried. “I told you not to!”

The words are so ridiculous that Chan laughs, sliding down to sit on the steps and dropping his head in his hands. He laughs and laughs until it turns into crying without his permission. Tears drip down his face, his breath turning into gasping sobs. Trying to hide it only makes it more obvious.

Seungkwan shuffles on his feet, his citrusy scent turning sour with distress. Daring to get closer, he stops a few steps down from Chan and whispers, “Should I go get Jeonghan-hyung?”

“I don’t know,” Chan says, but it comes out more like a keen and it only embarrasses him more. He hates crying so much, and it’s even worse when there’s an audience, someone to see how weak and sensitive he can be. 

He doesn’t look up even when he hears shuffling. Probably Seungkwan is uncomfortable, and who wouldn’t be, having to deal with some strange, emotional omega? 

Gulping air, he apologizes, “I’m—I’m sorry for crying—“

It’s not Seungkwan who replies. 

“You were at a funeral yesterday, Channie,” Jeonghan says, soft as silk. 

Chan jumps at the sound of his voice, only able to register his scent once he pulls his hands away from his face. Jeonghan looms over him for a second, his hair hanging around his face. Biting his lip, his eyes are soft—softer than anyone has ever looked at Chan.

He sits next to Chan without complaint, pumping out his vanilla latte scent as he wraps an arm around his shoulders. Despite the teasing words, his tone is gentle when he says, “Now you’re stuck in an unfamiliar place with a bunch of loud weirdos. Don’t apologize for crying.”

Jeonghan pushes Chan’s hair away from his face, petting him the way he did Seungkwan yesterday in the pizza place. It’s comforting, having someone’s hands on him but only to make him feel better.

For a second, it’s like having Junseo with him again. 

There was a moment just like this one, sitting together after Harabeonim had scolded Chan last year. Junseo had held him and whispered to him that pack alphas shouldn’t be like this—that Chan didn’t deserve to be called useless and spoiled. That it wasn’t true. 

That he could cry if he needed to.

Face crumpling, Chan’s instincts take over. It doesn’t matter that Jeonghan is a stranger still—he’s an older omega who wants to comfort Chan. He throws himself into Jeonghan, tucking his head into the older omega’s neck and letting himself break.

Jeonghan takes him back to the guest room after a little while. The stairs are far too uncomfortable for mental breakdowns, which they all know well by now. Seungkwan trails behind, not wanting to leave them alone, even though Chan’s desperate sobbing has slowed down.

It’s Seungkwan who opens the door for them, and it’s Seungkwan who sees the perfectly made bed and whispers to Jeonghan, “He didn’t nest?”

“Later, Seungkwan-ah,” Jeonghan says, his hands gentle on Chan as he guides him into the room. 

The bed isn’t Chan’s, but even after only one night, it’s a comforting place to hide and he dives in. 

Under the blankets, Chan squeezes his eyes shut and curls into a ball. There are so many thoughts swirling in his head, so many wishes and regrets, that he can’t really think about anything at all. All cried out, his mind is as blank as his stare.

The air shifts around as Jeonghan gets closer. His sweet scent seeps in a little through the blanket. “Channie,” he whispers, “Do you want us to stay or leave?”

At first, Chan can’t answer. 

No one has asked him that in… years. Not since he was a child. Not his Eomma, not his Appa, not even his younger brother. No one has really had the opportunity, because for the most part, Chan has tried his hardest to control his emotions. Emotional omegas are annoying and Chan wants to avoid that at all costs. But…

Jeonghan isn’t upset with him, he doesn’t think. His scent is concerned and yes, a little upset, but Chan knows that omegas can be cruel too. If he wanted Chan to stop crying, to stand up and stop sulking, he has the power here to say so. 

Poking his head out, Chan meets Jeonghan’s gaze through blurry eyes. Seungkwan hovers behind him, his eyes wide and his mouth a pout. 

Swallowing hard, Chan pushes down his fear, and asks, “Will you stay?”

Jeonghan smiles gently. “Of course.” 

He goes to sit down, but Chan reaches out and grabs at his wrist, pulling him closer. Jeonghan lets him drag him into the bed, over the blankets but still in his space. It soothes something deep inside him to have someone else, another omega and a person who has been so kind to him in the last twenty-four hours, with him like this. The bed feels bare and an instinct he’s well-versed in ignoring wants him to do something about it, but it doesn’t matter. 

Someone is with him.

Creeping closer, Seungkwan gazes down at them with a pleased little grin. Though when he speaks, it’s hesitant. “Is it comfy?”

“It is,” Jeonghan purrs, pulling Chan into his arms. The blanket is a barrier between them but it doesn’t keep Chan from feeling held and comforted. “Channie has such a nice bed.”

Cheeks flushing, Chan ducks his head. Stupid tears prick in his eyes again. It’s not a nice bed, it’s not his, but nonetheless the words are like balm on a desperate ache. This older omega thinks he’s doing something right.

“Not my bed,” he mumbles, torturing himself.

“It is,” Jeonghan tells him. “Cheollie will give it to you if you want it,” which is a ridiculous thing to say, but it’s clear he means it.

“Or you could stay,” Seungkwan says. “Lots of us are runaways. And we like you.”

Chan blinks at him. Do they? How can that be possible, when they’ve only known him one night?

Seungkwan must be able to see his confusion, because he giggles a little, kneeling down beside the bed. “You don’t know us yet, Channie. But Seokmin really has claimed you as his already. Mingyu thinks you’re cute and so does Hansollie. Wonu-hyung talked to you, that means something. And earlier, the way Junnie-hyung praised your toast, it was obvious to me. I mean, it’s just toast. But he said you made it better than anyone has in a while.”

Somehow, Chan had completely missed that. With so many conversations going on, all of the words just flew over his head. 

“Really?” He whispers, eyes pooling. It doesn’t feel real. He doesn’t know how he can trust it, but he can’t simply deny it either, not with the sincere look in Seungkwan’s eyes.

“Yes, really. We want to get to know you better. Or at least to offer you a space to recover. I needed that too when I left my family pack. Soonyoung-hyung brought me home and told me I could stay. You could too.”

“Just as long as you want.” Jeonghan rubs his shoulder over the blanket. His words are spoken with total confidence, no second guessing or an obvious lie. “Last night you said you don’t want to go home. Until you decide to leave, we have the space.”

“But I’ll be intruding,” Chan cries, unable to handle their kind words and sweet offers for another second. “Your pack is already full, there’s no room for me.”

“There is, I promise,” Jeonghan soothes, petting him again. 

Seungkwan nods, resting his cheek on Jeonghan’s hip and staring up at Chan. “Even if we didn’t have enough beds, we’d let you share. Or we’d bunk up together, so you could have your own.”

“You guys are so weird,” Chan sobs, not even considering what he’s saying. He’s too exhausted for self-control. “You don’t know me at all.”

“We don’t have to to know you deserve somewhere to stay and feel safe in,” Jeonghan murmurs. “That’s all that matters, Channie. It’s okay, let it out. It’s okay.”

Things are a little better after he cries on Jeonghan.

Eventually, Seungkwan slips back downstairs to give them privacy. Maybe Chan should talk, take the opportunity of having Jeonghan alone and lay some of his feelings bare on this kind stranger. But he doesn’t.

He just lays there, inhaling vanilla latte, until Jeonghan is forced to go too. “Work,” he explains regretfully, patting Chan’s covered shoulder. 

When he leaves, Chan’s instincts cry out—abandoned, alone, useless, stupid. Why else would they leave him here alone? His omega asks restlessly. It won’t listen to logic. It wants him to run downstairs too and chase Jeonghan down, drag him back to this not-nest until he finally feels like he can breathe.

Wallowing in bed is the much easier option. There’s no one to stare at him, or ask questions, or talk about things Chan doesn’t understand at all. So for a while, he stays there, his eyes puffy and itchy, his body numb.

But he gets sick of himself eventually. He doesn’t like to lay about all day, especially here where he can’t afford to be useless. Not to mention… the bed is wrong. There’s not enough blankets, his omega thinks feverishly. Not enough pillows. There’s a pack scent, but it’s not his own—and though he likes it, immersing himself in it so deeply has his nose itching. 

Something is wrong, it whispers, and the only way to fix it is to get up.

So Chan drags himself from the bed, and forces himself down the stairs.

With most of the pack having left for work, he’s able to walk around without feeling too scrutinized. The bad feelings ebb away the more he moves. 

It’s awkward when he does bump into the others, but no one comments on his outburst and no one shames him for being emotional. 

Joshua is still around, and when he hears that Chan has no clothes except the funeral hanbok and whatever Seungkwan is willing to part with, he insists that they go shopping.

Seungcheol is gone, which means they can’t ask for his permission. The eldest alpha still in the house turns out to be Jihoon, whose only reaction to them going out is to ask, “Hyung, what about your heat?”

“Oh, I’m fine by now, Jihoonie. It’s fully over. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone, but it shouldn’t be more than… hmm, I think we’ll be back by four. I just wanted to let you know so you don’t think we’re missing.”

Four? Chan can’t imagine being out for that long, regretting this before it’s even begun. It’s only about eleven in the morning by now.

“God. Good luck. Is it just the two of you going?” 

“Yep, Hannie had to go into work today after all.”

They discuss a few more pack mates after that, naming who’s left for work and who’s still home. 

Chan stands awkwardly to the side, trying not to stare at Jihoon, who is still shirtless and totally unconcerned about it. He doesn’t even give Chan any weird looks for what happened earlier, or for dragging out one of their pack’s only omegas for some trivial shopping trip. He just sits there and chats with Joshua, sipping a soda and looking unfairly good for someone who still has bedhead after being up for a few hours.

Chan inhales quietly, trying to sense if Jihoon is upset and just hiding it. Since it’s only just the three of them, he’s able to actually catch their scents. Joshua’s is something floral that Chan can’t quite name—though it’s a little sweet, it’s not a typical omega scent. There’s a smoky underlayer to it that reminds Chan more of an alpha. On Joshua, who holds himself so casually, it feels fitting.

Jihoon’s is easier for Chan to figure out. Pine. The woodsy scent of it reminds him of his childhood, when Appa and Eomma would still let him and Geon play together in the park. All the times they wrestled, they ended up below the big trees, giggling and pushing each other into the pine needles. 

It would be a nice memory, if it didn’t hurt so much. Pushing it away, he focuses more on the musky alpha undertone. All together, it’s a nice scent, comforting in a way that Chan doesn’t want to think about either. 

Maybe he should be concerned about how many things he avoids even in his own mind….

“Yah, shut up! You’re horrible,” Jihoon suddenly says, and Chan tunes back in, clearly having missed some kind of joke.

Jihoon’s face has flushed since Chan was last paying attention, and Joshua’s head is thrown back with a laugh that reminds Chan of the way Seokmin introduced him—that he and Jeonghan are evil. 

“I shouldn’t let you take the new guy, who knows if he’ll even wanna come back after dealing with you for so long,” Jihoon complains, and though it’s obvious he’s joking, Chan glances between them worriedly. His emotions are still raw and he doesn’t think he can handle being talked about like he’s not here, even though they have every right to.

“You can take him if you want,” Joshua offers, and laughs again when Jihoon complains about how shopping is the worst. Grabbing a set of keys, he says, “Alright, c’mon, Chan-ah, let’s go.”

“Bye,” Jihoon calls. Joshua only waves, but Chan feels compelled to bow quickly on his way out of the room.

The garage, when Chan first sees it, is mostly empty. It’s big enough for four cars at least, which Joshua tells him is usually more than enough since they tend to carpool. 

They take the last vehicle there, and Chan forces himself to stop thinking about how they’re being greedy omegas forcing whoever’s still home to be stuck inside. 

The others can take the train. They aren’t trapped here, he tells himself. It’s fine.

“So, I have a few places in mind for where we should go. Unless there’s somewhere specific you’d like to go too?”

“No, that’s okay. Thank you, omega-hyung,” Chan says, instead of telling him he doesn’t know any of the stores in the city.

Joshua doesn’t reply for a moment, just long enough to be noticeable. Then—“Don’t worry about it. But… okay, tell me to shut up if you don’t wanna answer, but I’m just going to ask because we can deal with it while we’re out and about. Do you have your own bank account?”

“I do,” Chan says, remembering the arguments it took to get him one. 

Geon got his first as a teenager, whereas Chan didn’t get his own until two years ago. Eomma and Appa said he didn’t need a bank account, but Chan had hated to be so behind his younger brother. He’d felt bitter about it for weeks, though he’d tried to pretend otherwise.

The only thing that changed their mind was a reminder of his future marriage—his parents only decided to put some money in an account then, but he’s not allowed to touch it except in emergencies. 

It’s for his future after all. His married life. Not while he’s still single, and certainly not now.

That bank account was the only thing he really fought with his parents about in years. And in the end, even though he got what he wanted, it didn't change his circumstances. 

An omega really has no need for their own money.

He doesn’t explain all of this to Joshua, of course. He only says, “I’m not really allowed to use it, though. My parents are on the account too, and they’ll know if I pull anything out. I have some money in my wallet but not that much.”

Joshua hums and taps his fingers on the steering wheel. 

Chan remembers what Junhui said earlier, about Joshua having enough means to take care of the pack, and feels his mind go a little fuzzy with panic. 

Never mind Joshua going against what Chan has always known to be normal and having his own wealth. What is he doing? He can’t let Joshua waste his money like this.

Sitting up in his seat, he tugs the seatbelt away from his neck and turns to face Joshua. “I’m sorry. We should go home. If—if Seungkwan-hyung doesn’t mind, I’ll just pay him for this outfit and we’ll call it even. I don’t expect you to pay for me—“

“Oh, no, that’s not a problem, Chan-ah. You need clothes, and Seungkwan won’t want to take your money anyway. I don’t mind getting you some.”

“But—“

Joshua looks away from the road long enough to give him a friendly yet firm look. “I don’t like to pull the hyung card, but I will. Plus we’re already on the way and I have all these grand plans of what we’ll do today. Let’s not waste the gas just to turn back around now.”

Chan wants to keep protesting, but he knows it’s useless. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with this pack, that the eldest omegas are more bossy than the pack alpha. That the alphas just allow it to happen. 

Tucking his head down, he says, “Okay, hyung.”

Joshua smirks at him, knowing he’s won, and finds something else for them to talk about as they approach the first store. Including his job—apparently, he works on some TV show Chan’s never heard of, Knowing Bros.

When they finally make it home hours later, a newly-arrived-home Jeonghan and a shopping-bag-laden Joshua descend on Chan like meddling aunties and drag him upstairs to the guest room.

“We can come in, right?” Joshua asks, not waiting for an answer before stepping inside. 

He drops all the bags on the little desk in the corner, and begins to go through the items with light touches. Jeonghan, still in the same clothes as this morning but looking somehow even more put together, oohs and ahhs over the different pieces.

Chan doesn’t understand that at all. None of it is fancy and honestly a lot of the clothes are the cheapest stuff Joshua could stand to let him buy. Jeonghan’s wearing an outfit that could’ve come from a magazine spread, but he watches Joshua show off a bland t-shirt and acts like it’s the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen.

“Chan-ah, tell Hannie what you told me,” Joshua says, suddenly remembering he’s there. 

He’s already brought this up several times between them, and Chan sighs, ready to be ridiculed. 

“Back home, we mostly wear hanboks… Joshua-hyung asked me what kind of shirt I like to wear and I didn’t know any of them.”

“Except t-shirts to be worn to bed,” Joshua adds, scandalized. “I wanted to get him in a blouse but I don’t know, I was about to grab one when I heard this voice in my head like Wonwoo’s scolding me for scaring the poor guy—“

“I wasn’t scared of the blouses,” Chan interjects, embarrassed. 

“Still, it’s too soon,” Jeonghan says seriously, eyes wide. “I agree.”

Chan gives up trying to get through to them, and goes to sit on the bed. It still smells a little like Jeonghan and Seungkwan, a fruity vanilla latte, and he closes his eyes, relishing in the novelty of that. 

“Hey, don’t fall asleep,” Joshua scolds him lightly a few minutes later, approaching with various shirts in his arms. “You need to scent these. Then you can nap.”

“Scent them?”

Jeonghan and Joshua share a look that he can’t quite read. 

“So we’ll know they’re yours,” Jeonghan says. “In case we want to steal them.”

“Um.”

“He’s kidding. Probably. Go ahead and mark them.” Joshua’s smile is far too sweet for the teasing they’re giving him.

All Chan can do is mumble, “Oh.” 

It’s not that Chan has never scented his own clothes before, but… to be honest, a part of him had thought that one he leaves, he’ll have to leave these clothes too. He didn’t pay for them—they’re not really his. Seungkwan’s the same size, these two hyungs aren’t much bigger, and of course there’s Jihoon; between all of them, the clothes could get some use. 

But he doesn’t want to admit to that with Jeonghan and Joshua smiling down at him, so he just takes each shirt and carefully rubs them over his scent glands. The faintest hint of cinnamon hits his nose.

He has to go gentle. It’s been a long time since he really scented anything or anyone, and the glands are sensitive to even the softest of the shirts. Jeonghan and Joshua talk to and around him while he does it, and it’s easier to get it done quicker when they aren’t watching him. 

They help him put it all in the closet after he’s done.

Joshua glances at the blankets, plucking at one appraisingly. “You didn’t take these down?”

“Don’t need ‘em,” Chan grunts, stooping down to pick up all the trash off the floor. 

Jeonghan hums thoughtfully, but neither of them say anything else about it, and Chan hopes that’ll be the end of it.

It’s not. Later that night, after dinner has been eaten (again without Seungcheol at the table, since he apparently works late sometimes), Chan gets stopped in the hallway upstairs. Mingyu has a stack of sheets in his arms, plus one orange blanket that looks so soft, Chan’s fingers itch with the need to touch it.

“Hey,” he says, immediately pushing them towards Chan’s arms. He has to grab them lest they drop and fall out of their perfect folds. “Hannie-hyung and Shua-hyung told me you need these for your room.”

Chan knows better than to say no to a gift like this. “Thank you, alpha-hyung,” he says with a bow. 

When he makes it back to his room, he puts the whole pile away with the others in the closet. He doesn’t want to change his sheets yet even though they smell like grief, and he has no need for an extra blanket. 

Something in him aches to have that fluffy of a blanket put up, but it’s better this way—out of sight, out of mind.

Somehow, a few days pass like this. Chan keeps thinking, okay, now I should leave. 

Even without money, he’s in a much better spot than he was when he ran away. He can put all of his new clothes into the new bag that Joshua insisted on and find a homeless shelter or something. 

It’s not ideal, but now that he’s had time to calm down from the rush of adrenaline he felt at the funeral, he knows he has to do something. 

Seungcheol must be getting annoyed having an intruder in his pack home. Chan doesn’t see him much, the pack alpha being too busy with work, but he can’t shake the worry. Sure, Seungcheol had said that Chan can stay, but it doesn’t matter—nothing helps him feel more stable here.

It’s scary to think about, but the longer he spends away from his family, the more the doesn’t want to go back. Not just because Harabeonim will be angry, but because this pack is so… weirdly nice to him. 

Though really, their kindness is an issue too, one that keeps him up at night thinking about how different things could be, what it could be like to be part of a pack that sees him as more of an equal. 

The instincts he’s forced far, far down for years are starting to wake up, and Chan is all too aware of it. Yesterday, he had to stop himself from wanting to cling to Jeonghan the way Seungkwan and Seokmin do.

I can’t stay. I can’t get too attached and get greedy. I have to leave.

So he thinks about going every morning and every afternoon.

But he never does. 

The hyungs keep inviting him to do things, playing video games and listening to music and trying this or that dish. Junhui can’t stop talking about how Soonyoung and this Hao guy, both of whom Chan still hasn’t met, have a dance recital coming up and how Chan just can’t miss it. 

“That’s why they’re never here, by the way,” Hansol explains, not looking up from his phone. Under the table, his legs are fully extended, his feet in Seokmin’s lap. Seokmin doesn’t seem to mind it, one hand petting Hansol’s ankle while he animated talks to someone on the phone—Chan didn’t catch a name.

“We’re lucky if they come home at night at all,” Jihoon says, the words annoyed but his tone much less so. “If they could, they’d just live in Soonyoung’s studio.”

“Hao wouldn’t let that happen,” Junhui corrects. “Not unless they got a couch in there, at least.”

“Are they staying there all night without anywhere to sleep?” Chan asks with concern.

Jihoon doesn’t look up from his notebook. “No, they do come back, just very late at night. If Myungho ever looks into buying a futon or couch for that place, though, we’ll never see them again.”

Myungho? Chan opens his mouth to ask if everyone’s just forgotten to mention if there are three packmates there, not two, when Hansol says, “Oh shit, he’s definitely looked into it already. I sent him this link earlier, wanna see? He was totally into the idea.”

He turns his phone around to show a… black leather bench without a back rest? Huh?

Chan asks, “How could that be good for sleeping on?” at the same time Jihoon says, disgusted, “That belongs in a sex dungeon.”

“Guys, shut up!” Seokmin suddenly hisses, standing up and laughing nervously into his phone. As he disappears from the room, they hear him say, “Sorry, sorry, I don’t know what they’re talking about…”

Ignoring him, his feet now unceremoniously dumped on the floor, Hansol asks, “Yeah, and?”

“I like it,” Junhui nods. “We should get one for the gym.”

“Sick, hyung,” Hansol says approvingly. They bump fists and start colluding devilishly over Hansol’s phone.

“Seriously, what is wrong with these people,” Jihoon says, catching Chan’s eye. “Don’t they care that Seokminnie’s on the phone with his parents?”

Since that first morning, Jihoon’s been more friendly with Chan, but is mostly distant overall. He drifts from Seungcheol to Mingyu to Hansol, never ignoring anyone but not seeking out conversation much either. When they pass in the halls or see each other at the table, Jihoon gives him a nod of acknowledgement, his pine scent never too overwhelming. 

This is probably the longest amount of time Chan has spent around the alpha, and he finds that he likes him. As much as Chan can like any city alpha, that is.

“You were the one who said it,” Chan points out hesitantly, wanting to join in on the joking but unsure of how Jihoon will react.

“Yeah, and?” Jihoon quotes with a smirk, going back to his notebook, scent going pleased as Chan laughs.

On his third day in the pack house, Seungkwan asks if Chan would like to get a tour of the place. Since he only really knows where the kitchen, dining room, the ‘97z’ bathroom, and the guest room are, he takes up the offer gladly. 

It’s the middle of the day then, and almost no one is home, so they start downstairs.

Seungkwan keeps up the conversation with the same gusto than Junhui did his first morning. Chan tries his best to contribute, feeling both slightly more comfortable around Seungkwan after what happened between them, and also terribly embarrassed. 

If he just pretends he didn’t have a minor mental breakdown, then there’s no reason to be shy around Seungkwan. 

Yeah, it doesn’t work as well as he’d like. 

Either way, Seungkwan is entirely unbothered by it. He only points out the different rooms—Seungcheol’s bedroom here, Myungho’s there, Seokmin’s down the hall. 

One particular door they pass is shut tight and has a blank whiteboard attached to it. When Chan gets closer to it, a slight scent seeps out from under the door—a wildflower mix of the whole pack. 

Seungkwan rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet. “That’s the mating room, Channie. You probably won’t want to go in there.”

“I understand,” he says at once. Seungkwan doesn’t have to say it for Chan to get it—he needs to stay out.

But Seungkwan doesn’t warn him off or lay a claim on the pack-only space. He only shakes his head, saying, “The first time I went in there, aigoo, I almost passed out, and I was already separated from my family pack by then. What would Cheol-hyung do to me if I let you get that overwhelmed?”

Chan freezes, sensing a threat. To say Harabeonim would not react well to non-pack encroaching on their space is an understatement. Harabeonim has never needed anything other than his growl and his fists to make people mind, especially strangers who got too close, though he’s not scared to punish his pack members either.

What would Seungcheol do? His head goes light at the uncertainty.

Seungkwan doesn’t answer his own question. Instead, he steps away from the room Chan is sure he will never step foot in, and says, “Come on, let’s go look at the office-slash-studio. And yes, we have to call it that, it’s a rule. Anyway, it’s a lot cooler, and it won’t make you sick.”

The office-slash-studio is a lot more interesting to look at than the gym was, though Chan struggles to focus on any of it at first.

When Seungkwan opens the door, Chan’s head is still full of questions. Then he sees the room—which looks a lot like Jihoon’s bedroom, with string lights and padding on the wall, big desk chairs and giant computer screens, a big jacket and a tie die blanket both laid over a futon—and more importantly, the person in it.

Wonwoo sits in one of the big chairs, his whole body a stiff line. He’s talking seemingly to no one, fingers moving fast over a remote controller Chan couldn’t possibly name. He looks the same as the previous times they’ve met—dark shaggy hair and comfortable clothes, radiating his ginseng scent. 

At the sound of Seungkwan’s voice saying, “Well, here it is!”, he glances over at them and pauses his game.

“Seungkwan-ah, I’m working,” he says, taking off his big headphones and turning to face them. 

“You can just cut it out, can’t you?” Seungkwan is unrepentant. Stepping closer, he leans down and rubs his cheek against Wonwoo’s head, letting out a pleased sound. “I wanted to show Channie the office-slash-studio.”

“I like it,” Chan supplies dutifully. “It’s really nice.”

Wonwoo gives him a knowing look. “You hate it.”

“I don’t!” Really, he doesn’t. It’s just that it’s kind of hard to focus on it when he has Seungkwan and Wonwoo in front of him, smelling content and happy, and acting like he belongs right beside them. “It’s very comfortable, beta-hyung.”

“It’s very what?” Seungkwan asks sweetly. 

Hansol had said the older pack members wouldn’t like to be called formally, but so far, none of them have really commented on it, except Jeonghan. On the other hand, Seungkwan has begun to refuse to reply to him if the words “alpha-hyung” leave Chan’s mouth. Evidently, he doesn’t want to let it go for the others, either.

Wonwoo doesn’t let him reply. “You can just call me hyung, Chan-ssi. Or just Wonwoo. Seungkwannie does it enough, I’m used to it.”

Again scenting him, Seungkwan says, “It’s because I love you and I see us as equals, hyungie.”

“Yes, because that’s how this works. How could I forget.”

Chan can’t help but smile, and it only grows when Seungkwan gets all huffy and threatens to have them both leave. Unerringly, Wonwoo doesn’t give in, though he doesn’t demand Seungkwan call him properly either, which Chan takes careful note of.

He also takes note of how often Wonwoo glances over at where he’s standing, out of the way of everything.

Wonwoo is similar to Jihoon in that Chan hasn’t interacted with him, much. Sometimes he hears him talking and laughing with the others, but when Chan is around, Wonwoo mostly seems to just… watch him. 

Maybe he’s trying to be subtle about it but Chan notices anyway, feeling a little on edge with those intense eyes on him. After meeting in the office-slash-studio, it only gets worse.

It doesn’t help that Wonwoo likes to suddenly start conversations with him that come out of nowhere—“Did you do any sports growing up?” and “Do you like that kind of blanket?” and “Do you have enough pajamas? I have a few shirts I don’t wear anymore if you need one.”

When the others hear this last comment, someone shouts and suddenly almost everyone is offering Chan some article of clothing he might need. Stunned, Chan tries to say he doesn’t need or want all of their rejects, but no one listens to him. 

He ends up with a pile of borrowed clothes to sort through, mostly from Wonwoo, Seokmin, Junhui, and Mingyu, which is not helpful when they’re all so much bigger than him. It’s surprising to find something from Jihoon in the pile, a pair of sweatpants that Chan finds himself wearing to bed each night.

Most of the clothes, he gives back. 

Other than the sweatpants, he keeps two t-shirts each from the other omegas, and another one from Seungkwan. He feels shy and stupid when he returns them, thanking each member for their kindness but saying he just won’t fit in whatever they offered and doesn’t want to deprive them of things they can still wear.

No one gets upset about it, which Chan is unspeakably grateful for. 

Hansol shrugs and says, “Worth a shot, I guess.” Joshua teases him about Chan ‘having a more discerning taste’. Seokmin very dramatically accepts them back while pretending to cry, and then has to reassure Chan that no, he’s joking, it’s really okay!

Jihoon, short on time, just asks Chan to put everything on his bed for him to sort out later. It’s only a few pieces of clothing—it should take him just a moment to set it down and leave.

But Chan gets nervous at even the idea, having never gone into the bedroom of an alpha who wasn’t a relative. He hesitates outside the door, peering inside as if it’s some cave where omegas go to die. Obviously that’s not true—Jihoon even has string lights hung up around the ceiling, giving it a fun vibe that would surely deter any dying.

Still, though. It’s an alpha’s room. 

The first step inside feels like a betrayal to his eomma, who has only told him a hundred times that omegas should never entice an alpha they couldn’t handle, and should never tease one either. 

Leaving his scent in Jihoon’s space probably counts as one of those, right?

But Jihoon pays him no mind as he forces himself to drop off the clothes, clicking around on his computer and muttering to himself about finding a certain file for a client. He doesn’t notice Chan take a look around and inhale through his nose, the whole room smelling purely of Jihoon’s musky and earthy pine scent.

Embarrassed by himself, Chan hurries out and tells himself firmly not to go into another alpha’s room. 

But then he has the same issue with Junhui, who upon seeing the situation—that is, Chan carrying far more clothes than he had earlier—invites him in and talks his ear off while he hangs everything back up. 

The clothes have more of Chan’s scent on them now than Junhui’s, having been washed and sitting around in the guest room for long enough to pick it up. But Junhui either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care. Once or twice, Chan even catches him subtly sniffing the clothes, a silly smile on his face.

Chan leaves vowing to avoid the betas’ rooms too. It’s too dangerous, clearly.

It’s a weird, oddly exhausting day. Chan considers leaving again before lunch, but Mingyu calls Seungkwan and invites them both to eat lunch at the pizza place again, and Chan can’t say no. 

They take the train there, eating with Mingyu on his break and getting interrogated by Mingyu’s younger alpha sister. She already knows Seungkwan and doesn’t bother him much—no, all of her questions are for Chan. Mingyu tries and fails to put her off. 

Chan stutters and stumbles over everything he says, sure that he’s giving all the wrong answers, but eventually she deems him acceptable and leaves them be.

On the way back, they pass a shelter for omegas. Chan stares at it, knowing he should be staying there—knowing he needs to rip the bandaid off sooner rather than later. He doesn’t have any of his things with him, but maybe he could take note of its location, come back tonight—

Seungkwan tugs on his arm and drags him a few steps, teasing him about how bad he is at answering questions.

When they get home, Seokmin pops his head out of the living room and beams at them. 

“Ah, just the people I want to see. There’s a new drama airing, do you guys wanna watch it with me?”

Seungkwan lights up at once, bouncing over to his side. “Oh my god, the one with the body swapping? And the ninja lady? I just need to grab—“

“I already got a juice for you,” Seokmin says, pulling two bottles out. One is the flavor that Seungkwan has eternal dibs on, and the other is one Chan has found himself enjoying the past few days.

Seungkwan takes one with a happy noise and flies to the couch, getting himself comfortable under the blanket Seokmin has set up there. Chan watches, unable to help the small smile the sight causes. 

It’s weird for Chan to think of an alpha as cute, but if there ever could be one, it would be Boo Seungkwan.

And, he realizes, Lee Seokmin too. He offers the other juice to Chan, a hopeful expression on his face. He wobbles it back and forth as he prompts, “Channieeee?”

Staring this alpha in the face, he doesn’t know what to do. On the train, he’d huddled between Seungkwan and the wall and dreamed of going right upstairs, locking the guest room door, and falling asleep. Then, after he woke up, he would pack his things and leave.

He knows he has no right to say no, but… he’s spent days seeing these men interact. No one ever gets in trouble for saying no. Maybe he could just this once?

Wrapping his arms around his middle, Chan starts, “Hyung….”

Seokmin doesn’t frown—he doesn’t even blink. “No? Don’t want to? That’s okay!”

“I’m just tired,” Chan admits lowly. But seeing the kind look on Seokmin’s face has changed his mind. They don’t ask that much of him, really, and here he is trying to say no anyway. He can’t be ungrateful. “But I’ll watch with you guys. Hyung can have the drink.”

Seokmin hesitates for a moment, before stepping forward and pulling Chan into his body. Chan stiffens at first, but soon melts into him when Seokmin doesn’t grip too hard or push him away. This close, his metallic scent is everywhere, but it’s not overwhelming or rusty. It’s proof that Seokmin is truly not upset, not even a hint of disappointment or anger coming through.

“Do you wanna take a nap instead? It’s okay, you don’t have to stay down here if you don’t want to,” he says, swaying them from side to side. “You can tell me to stop bugging you.”

“No, you’re not, alpha-hyung. I’ll stay. I wanna watch it.”

Seokmin doesn’t seem convinced, a skeptical note mingling with his scent. But he doesn’t make Chan go upstairs, and even offers the other corner of the couch for him to sit in. He does insist on putting a blanket over Chan’s lap, thankfully a separate one from the one he and Seungkwan cuddle up under, and Chan lets him do it without protest. 

He manages to stay awake for a little while. But the day catches up with him, and it doesn’t help that the blanket is comfortable, not too hot and not too small. It’s a perfect size and even better, it smells like Seokmin. Sinking further into it, he catches the scent of eucalyptus too. 

The voices on the TV fade out, covered up by the closer sound of Seungkwan and Seokmin speculating and laughing together. 

Soon even their words dwindle to just background noise.

He doesn’t mean to fall asleep. It’s not safe for an omega to fall asleep just anywhere, where random alphas could easily do something to hurt him. In all his life, he’s never randomly taken a nap anywhere but his own bed. Halmeonim doesn’t like to see omegas laying around when they should be finding something to keep themselves busy with. But he can’t help it.

When he realizes he’s falling asleep, he fights to stay awake. There are two alphas right there, he needs to stay alert—but there’s that voice inside him, the one he ignores so often, that says, it’s safe. Let yourself rest.

His eyes shut.

Chan doesn’t remember much of his dream. He only knows he’s back home, once again caught in the house he grew up in. The bare walls feel even more oppressive than before, pressing in on him. 

Harabeonim and Halmeonim are there too, watching him with sharp eyes. They’re wearing their black hanboks, and when Chan looks at himself, he sees he is too.

There’s a casket in the corner. Subin kneels beside it, her own funeral clothes flared out around her, never leaving Junseo’s side. 

Though he can’t see anyone else, Chan knows that the rest of the family are lingering just out of sight, waiting for the scolding to be done. Waiting to see how bad it will be.

“Look at the family you abandoned,” Harabeonim cruelly reminds him. “Your poor Halmeonim and Eomma looked for you everywhere. It meant they couldn’t be with Subin-ah when she needed them.”

When Halmeonim speaks, her voice is softer—but her words are not. Tsking, her pearl earrings swing as she shakes her head. “Why are you always causing problems, hmm, Chan? Do you think we don’t know about everything?”

“I—I haven’t done anything,” Chan gasps out. He tries to say more, to defend himself, but it’s like his throat closes up. No matter how hard he tries, no more words leave his mouth.

“Haven’t you?” Harabeonim raises his voice. “Where are you right now? You’re missing your cousin’s funeral to gallivant with a bunch of city alphas!”

“It’s not like that!” Chan retorts, flinching immediately. He’s never spoken back to Harabeonim—he knows better—

“Then what is it?” Halmeonim asks. Demands, really.

They’re saving me from you. I loved Junseo, and you didn’t. I’m an adult, even if I’m an omega. 

“They’re taking care of me,” is all that Chan can spit out. 

“And we didn’t? We didn’t help raise you for twenty-three years? Is this how ungrateful you are, Lee Jungchan?”

He clenches his fists, sinking into himself as they continue to berate him. When he looks over to Subin, a last attempt to garner any kind of help he can find, she hasn’t moved. She’s still kneeling there beside her mate, wailing as she should.

Chan falls to his knees too, heart throbbing painfully. Looking up, Harabeonim and Halmeonim seem so much bigger than before, his pack leaders who he cannot defy without consequences. His breath shakes in his chest.

The door opens behind him.

At first he thinks it must be Appa, finally willing to risk grabbing him and taking him away. But it’s not Appa—it’s Jeonghan. His distinctly omega-sweet scent wraps around Chan, blocking out the confused and angry words of his grandparents.

As if nothing’s wrong, Jeonghan rescues him with a casual tone. “Channie-yah, let’s go home, what do you say?”

“Omega-hyung,” he whines, his body not working. Though Chan has no idea if Jeonghan is really strong enough, in the dream he’s able to just lift Chan up to his feet and pull him out of there. The last thing Chan sees is Harabeonim coming towards them, Halmeonim shaking her head in the background.

Seokmin is outside too. He takes Chan into his arms without a second’s pause, swaying them like he had earlier.

“Don’t listen to them anymore,” he murmurs. “Let me and hyungie take care of it.”

Chan’s head is spinning; going from his grandparents to this is more disorienting than his first time stepping into Seoul, a few days ago. Peering up at Seokmin and Jeonghan, all of the fear starts to leave him, his body tingling.

Dropping his head to Seokmin’s shoulder, Chan can only sigh. He’s safe. 

He’s with them.

Awareness comes back slow, in bits and pieces. The dream slips away at the same pace.

Where am I? He scrunches his nose as he inhales, catching so many scents at once that he knows he must not be in his—that is, the guest room. Most strongly, there’s metal and eucalyptus. It’s so nice. Snuggling more under the blanket, his head ends up sliding off of the pillow and down into a spot where there’s… something hard bumping against the top of his skull? What?

“…just wanna touch his hair, it looks so cute…”

“Don’t be creepy, hyung.”

Oh, people are talking. Chan forgets about the weird bed situation happening, attention turning to the conversation hazily. Their voices are lowered, and with the blanket halfway over his head, it’s hard to make out everything they’re saying.

“So he gave back everyone’s clothes?” That’s Seungcheol, he thinks.

“Yep. Except for some stuff from Jeonghan-hyung and Joshua-hyung, I guess.”

“Huh….”

“Well, that’s okay, right? He didn’t have to take all of our stuff.”

“No, of course not. It’s just kind of surprising, I guess. Soonyoungie always wanted to wear my hoodies, and even Myungho has shared clothes with all of us at least once.”

“Aww, Myungho is so cute.”

“Isn’t he?”

“I’m feeling very smug, by the way,” Jeonghan says, and Chan smiles lazily at the sound. “He liiiiikes me.”

“He likes me too, Hannie, you’re not special.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Guys, let’s not get started on this….”

“Fine, fine.”

“I have something controversial to say, but I don’t care. Have we considered that maybe he's just gay?”

“True, it could be that…”

“I mean, who wouldn't be into Hannie and Shua-yah?” Everyone makes agreeing sounds.

Sleepily, Chan thinks, that’s true. Who wouldn’t like them?

He likes them. They’re weird, and evil sometimes, and a little overwhelming. They don’t act anything like what an omega should and it scares Chan, but the more he interacts with them, the more he thinks… maybe, maybe it’s okay to not act perfect all the time? Junseo tried to tell him that a lot, too, but Chan could never believe it.

It’s a little easier to now. What does it hurt to think about it just himself, anyway? No one will ever know.

So yeah, he decides. He likes them.

Still smiling, he sinks more into the weird bed and keeps listening as the pack talk around him.

“Okay, but he kept one of my shirts too,” Seungkwan interjects testily. “Does that not say something?”

“You don’t count, you guys are the same size.”

A deeper voice interrupts. “What about my sweatpants? He didn’t give those back, so he must have them.”

“…he makes a good point. Jihoonie may look like an omega—“

“Hey!”

“—but he definitely doesn’t smell like one. If I was an omega only into omegas, I wouldn’t want to walk around wearing such an alpha-like scent.”

That’s where they lose him. 

What? An omega only into omegas? What are they talking about? 

Is that even a thing? 

As the others keep speaking, Chan’s thoughts take a turn. When it comes to the three main subgenders, his family always said that alphas should only be with omegas and vice versa. Betas don’t fit well into the equation. They can date each other, his cousins like to say. But still, it’s not unexpected for alphas and omegas to be with betas, it’s just not what everyone should strive for. 

Growing up, he always knew he would end up with an alpha. His family wouldn’t let him do anything different. He’s never considered anything else, because it had been impressed upon him so many times that betas were a step down—and omegas? It never came up. It wasn’t an option at all.

But they way they’re talking… it was said so casually. ‘If I was an omega only into omegas.’

Scrunching up his face, he rewinds the conversation even further. Seungcheol had asked who couldn’t be into Jeonghan and Joshua, and Chan—mostly asleep—had instinctively agreed. But does that mean he’s… what did they say, gay?

He’s not sure he knows what that word even means, but he can guess. 

Chan has never really dated, only crushing on a few alphas he’d seen on magazine covers in his lifetime. But he can sort of imagine it, from what he’s seen of his family members’ relationships. 

Mostly the image that comes to mind is holding hands or kissing in the rain, because that’s what they showed on his parents’ old dramas. 

The person next to him was always blank-faced but obviously alpha when he thought about it. But now, unbidden, he pictures someone else there, a faceless omega. Maybe they’d have smaller hands and a cute body, even smaller than Chan himself is.

No. It’s the only thing he can think. No, I don’t want it. It’s not right, it’s not….

Suddenly the omega in his mind shifts to Joshua. Joshua, who’s taller than him and muscled, who can drive and took care of him even though they’d only just met. Or Jeonghan, who looks like a classically beautiful omega, long hair and soft features, but whose laugh is sometimes diabolical and who even the pack alpha called the boss.

Chan shivers. They aren’t good omegas, they aren’t what they’re supposed to be, but he can’t deny… the thought of holding their hands is a lot less jarring for him than some random ideal omega.

Which isn’t saying much. The idea of dating in general is not something he’s equipped to handle at all right now.

It’s only since he’s been in this house that it’s even become an issue anyway. 

His omegan instincts have latched onto the scents of Mingyu and Jihoon, the sweet companionship of Junhui and Hansol, the everything about Jeonghan and Joshua. And meeting Seokmin is what put him in this situation at all—he was a guiding light at the end of a dark, scary tunnel.

It’s undeniable that everyone in this pack (that he’s met, at least) are attractive. He’d be crazy to pretend otherwise. 

But it doesn’t matter—he’s never done anything about it before, and he’s not going to start now. It’s something to acknowledge and move on from, these crazy thoughts notwithstanding.

He’s not staying, anyway. He has to leave eventually. They’ll get tired of having his dead weight around, not even part of the pack officially, and kick him out unless he leaves first. There’s no reason to get attached more than… well, more than he already is. 

Scrunching his nose, he thinks back over what they’d said again, and realizes they must be talking about him. He hadn’t considered who they were discussing at first, too asleep still for that, and then he’d gotten distracted, but… they must be. Right? There’s no other options, unless someone else has received a bundle of old clothes recently. 

All of these swirling thoughts force him to wake up fully. 

Opening his eyes, he realizes he’s not on a bed—he’s on the couch, and the hard thing bumping his head is the armrest. All around him, the pack is still talking, voices lowered in deference of his nap. No one is too close, no one is even on the couch with him still except for Hansol, and that’s—fine. The beta’s paper and ink scent doesn’t bother him.

But Chan’s chest tightens anyway, all of the confusion and the last vestiges of the dream making it worse. There are alphas in a loose half-circle around the room, Seungcheol and Jihoon by the door, Seungkwan leaning behind Hansol, Seokmin and Mingyu rounding the curve where they sit on the floor. The betas fill in the blanks, Junhui and Wonwoo on either side of the arm chair where Joshua is sitting with Jeonghan in his lap.

For a second, his omega wants to calm down, sink back into the cushions and relax again. Even though they were talking about him and saying weird things, he knows they won’t hurt him. Especially not if the other omegas are here, looking perfectly fine.

But he doesn’t know that, does he? His more rational mind wins out, and it tells him he’s surrounded by people he hardly knows. A stupid, unattached omega who couldn’t possibly defend himself if he tried.

“Um, is he waking up?” Seungkwan asks in a whisper that might as well be a shout to Chan’s panic-sensitized ears.

The weight of everyone’s eyes turn on him. Chan has no idea what to do, caught there frozen as everything his parents ever told him growing up screams in his mind. All of the warnings about strange alphas and reckless omegas and dangers that never change.

There’s a shuffling sound, and then Junhui is close, just barely in touching distance. There’s concern in his voice when he asks, “Channie? Are you awake?”

He drags the blanket further around himself, unable to stop the whimper that slips out of him. Curling up, all he can think of to say is, “Please.” 

Please don’t. But he can’t tell someone above him what to do. He can’t say no.

“Back up, Jun,” Seungcheol says, and Chan flinches at the sound of his voice. 

(He doesn’t realize how much his fear-scent is filling the room, the cinnamon so strong it stings, nor how much it affects everyone around him.)

It’s Jeonghan who steps forward then as Junhui backs away, shuffling closer than Junhui did, even laying one hand on Chan’s side over the blanket. He pumps out his own calming scent, trying to soothe Chan—but all it does is make him push down the blanket to see who’s in front of him. 

Mingyu and Seokmin both flinch back at the wave of his scent, only intensifying with the barrier out of the way. Jihoon curses under his breath.

When he sees Jeonghan, there is a part of him that wants to lay back down, his omega cutting in stronger than it did earlier. Jeonghan won’t let you get hurt, it tells him, remembering the way this man let Chan cling onto him and cry and grieve without complaint. You can trust him.

But Chan can’t listen to that voice. It’s drowned out by the panic.

“It’s okay, Chan-ah—“

Stumbling to his feet, Chan doesn’t let go of the blanket around him as he tries to get to the door. Jihoon is in front of it, and there’s a second where Chan’s mind is completely blank, only his omega speaking, whining and cringing at the idea of having to push past an alpha to get away. The alpha may be shorter, but he has a stern face and big arms and—then Jihoon’s eyes widen when their stares meet. It makes his features go softer, and Chan pauses, wires crossing in his mind that say dangerous alpha and nice hyung and get out, now.

Jihoon moves out of the way, scowling behind Chan at something or someone he can’t see. With the doorway empty, Chan goes on autopilot and he runs. 

He takes the steps two at a time. The guest room at the end of the hall is like a beacon calling to him, promising the safety of a locked door. They said a closed door is closed. That no one will barge in. He just has to get there and maybe, maybe they’ll stick to their word—he’ll be safe—

It’s not until he’s inside, door slammed shut and firmly locked, that he realizes he doesn’t hear anyone chasing after him. But that doesn’t mean anything. He’s not safe. Huddling on the bed, he drapes the blanket from Seokmin over himself again. 

Finally alone, all Chan can do is shake and shake.

Wonwoo comes to the door an unknown amount of time later. Chan lifts the blanket just enough to sniff the air, his heart rate slowing infinitesimally at the knowledge that there’s a beta outside, not an alpha. Betas are not nice most times, but they don’t make Chan’s instincts scream out danger either.

He knocks once, twice. Later Chan will know he was trying to be gentle, but in the moment it sounds immeasurably loud, as if a police officer was trying to break his way in. 

Whole body tense, Chan doesn’t dare move or breathe.

“Chan-ah?”

He tries to be silent, but somehow Wonwoo can tell he’s in here and awake anyway. Chan doesn’t understand how and he hates it.

“Are you… okay?”

No. Nothing like this has ever happened to him before. 

At home, he got used to feeling badly—there was always someone to scold him or remind him of his place in life. If it wasn’t Harabeonim or Halmeonim, then it was his parents, and if not them, then one of his aunts or uncles or cousins. Geon is nice to him but he’s also just a kid in so many ways. And Chan woke up in a panic semi-regularly from bad dreams or needing to rush out of the house, so it’s not even that which is so upsetting right now.

But… now it’s like he’s been reset. Even though he’s spent a lot of the last few days freaked out, it feels as though he’s woken up falling—his whole body jerking back from a ledge he didn’t know he was on. Or, well, the opposite. 

He’d lived on the ledge so long that now he doesn’t know what to do on solid ground. He’s retreated on his own.

“Hey, that’s okay. You don’t have to answer. Maybe I can just talk for a minute, is that okay? Can hyung talk to you?”

Chan breathes heavily, reminding himself that this is a beta. It’s Wonwoo-hyung. Other than that first interaction, Wonwoo has always been nice to him, and even then he wasn’t mean. Just weird.

“Okay,” he whispers, his wobbling voice breaking the word in half.

He doesn’t know how Wonwoo hears him, but he does. Because he says, “Thank you, makdoongie.”

There’s shuffling outside, the light under the door shifting as Wonwoo sits down. 

Chan doesn’t know how long Wonwoo stays there. But he does stay, speaking in low, soothing tones. He tells Chan that they mean him no harm, that they didn’t mean to scare him. He talks about when he himself joined the pack and had felt overwhelmed too. 

It’s not so much his words as it is his voice that helps Chan finally breathe easier. Laying there on fresh sheets that smell like Mingyu and Joshua, curled under a blanket that smells like Seokmin, wrapped in the sound of Wonwoo’s deep voice, the tension melts out of his limbs bit by bit. At least here, he can relax a little. The door is closed and locked and Chan is safe.

He’s almost falling back asleep when the front door opens downstairs. Then— 

“Wonu-yah!” Someone shouts through the house, followed by the frantic yet muted sound of shushing. It’s not a voice Chan knows and all the hard-won calming down he’s done gets reversed immediately. 

Who’s here? An intruder? Someone who wants to drag him back to his family? Chan whimpers, dragging the blanket back over his head until all he can feel and smell and see is himself.

Wonwoo curses under his breath. “Don’t worry, that’s just Soonyoungie. Everything’s okay. He’s just excited.”

There’s another loud sound from downstairs and Chan flinches.

Sighing, Wonwoo taps the door, his fingertips patting gently on the wood. “I’m sorry again, Chan-ah. I’ll leave you alone now. Try to get some sleep, okay?”

He waits, but Chan can’t force the words out of his mouth until long after he’s gone. Even then it’s just a whisper, his eyes squeezed shut. 

“Okay, beta-hyung. …I’ll try.”

Chapter Text

Chan does try. But sleep doesn’t come again, not without Wonwoo there to help him.

Downstairs stays more or less quiet after that, but Chan can’t let go of the fear of the unknown. Even knowing that it’s Soonyoung and Hao and Myungho, who are pack members with every right to be here, can’t calm his omega down.

They’re unknown, and he can’t relax at all.

After a while, he gets tired of laying in bed and forces himself to his feet. He paces, restless, tired of himself. He doesn’t ever unwrap the blanket from around his shoulders. The scent of metal and eucalyptus are perhaps the only things keeping him sane just then.

Chan packs his bag after that. There’s not much room so he stuffs all of his underwear and the hanbok in it, leaving everything else in the closet and drawers. He skips dinner, too sick to his stomach to dare eat, even if Junhui comes up to invite him personally. It doesn’t help that there are voices he doesn’t recognize, blending in seamlessly with the pack. 

Eventually, the others come upstairs and go to bed. Someone stands outside his door for a moment, radiating emotions Chan is too blurry to be able to read through the door. Whoever it is doesn’t knock and doesn’t end up staying long. 

After Junhui, no one bothers him again all night.

Chan can’t relax until he hears the sound of Jihoon’s music down the hall, and the white noise machine whirring from Seungkwan’s room next door. Sleep doesn’t come easily, even laying huddled up on the bed that his body and heart want to call his own. 

By the time the sun comes up, he’s only drifted off a little. 

But he’s calmed down much more, his heart rate slowed and his anxiety down, and is unpacking when Junhui hesitantly knocks again to invite him downstairs for breakfast.

Chan walks on eggshells the whole morning. No one treats him any different, but no one acknowledges what happened either, and it leaves him feeling completely unbalanced. 

He wants to go hide in the guest room again, but he doesn’t think the others will let him. Someone, he’s not sure who, keeps piling bits of sausage onto his plate. Junhui involves him in the conversation every once in a while. Under the table, Wonwoo has pressed his ankle to Chan’s. 

He’s almost relieved when Seungcheol comes into the room, eyes lined with red and his hair a mess, and asks to talk to him alone.

They go to the dining room again, and this time, Jeonghan doesn’t follow. Jeonghan’s not even home—he left earlier with a kiss to Chan’s hair and a simple, whispered, “I’m glad you’re still here, Chan.” 

No one else joins them, leaving the eldest alpha and the youngest omega to deal with this by themselves.

Arms crossed protectively, Chan sits down in the same chair he sat in his first night in this house. Seungcheol doesn’t join him, pacing around the other side of the table anxiously. For several minutes, neither of them speak, both lost in thought. But finally it becomes too much, the air tense and thick.

“Alpha,” Chan says lowly—though he’s not sure if it’s a plea to make him stop, or something else entirely. Something more desperate.

Nevertheless, it works. Seungcheol pauses, and scrubs a hand over his face. When he comes closer, he stops several steps away, an empty chair between them like a barrier. It’s not clear who it’s for.

However, once their eyes meet, Seungcheol doesn’t flinch or look away once. 

“Chan-ah, I’m sorry about last night. We should’ve been more considerate of what that might look and feel like for you. We weren’t trying to trap you, but I’m sure it felt like that anyway. No—I know it did.”

Chan is the one who breaks eye contact, biting his lip as all the fear comes rushing back, though thankfully not as strong in the morning light. His breath rattles in his chest as he breathes out, trying to stay calm.

“I wasn’t even thinking… I guess I’m so used to my pack mates, I didn’t think about your feelings at all. They wouldn’t care, so I just assumed you wouldn’t either, and that was wrong of me. And we shouldn’t have been talking about you like that.” He shakes his head, his scent tinging embarrassed and regretful. “I know I’m the only one here right now, but Chan-ah, everyone is sorry. We just didn’t want to overwhelm you, having us all here. I hope you can forgive us.”

It takes Chan a moment to realize why Seungcheol's words send an odd, uncomfortable curl in his gut.

This is a pack alpha in front of him, apologizing. 

Harabeonim would never stoop so low; he’s never cared about hurting anyone else’s feelings. If he frightened someone, he probably did it on purpose to teach them a lesson. To show them where they belonged in the family hierarchy.

And if he did apologize, Chan can’t imagine it being anything like this. I’m sorry you feel that way, he’d say. Or, It pains me that it had to come to this, but you deserved it.

It wouldn’t feel like he was being given a choice to forgive.

He doesn’t know what to do with it, sitting frozen and his mind almost blanking.

Seungcheol winces after the silence has gone on just bit too long. “Can you say something? Even if it’s just to yell at me?”

Yelling—another thing Harabeonim would never tolerate.

Maybe that’s why he does it. Maybe it’s how he feels comfortable enough to say, small but honest, “That really scared me, alpha-hyung.”

Seungcheol’s face falls for only a second before he forces it back to something neutral, even as his scent intensifies, filling the room with rotten fruit. “I’m s—“

For some reason, Chan doesn’t want to hear him say it again, the wrongness and the pain of it too much for him in that moment. 

“My Eomma always told me that I should never trust random alphas. That it could be dangerous and I could get hurt. If she knew how reckless I’ve been the last week, she’d probably have dropped dead already. You guys are… you’ve been very kind to me but that scared me, alpha-hyung. I didn’t know….”

…that you wouldn’t hurt me. Chan can’t force the words out, but it’s like Seungcheol hears them anyway. He sits down hard in the chair across from him, and lets out a shaking breath.

“I don’t care that you guys were talking. When I woke up, I—I liked that I could hear your voices,” he confesses, feeling exposed like a raw nerve. “But then I realized you were talking about me, and saying things I didn’t understand, and I couldn’t have gotten up without having to go through you. I freaked out.”

“I know. I’m so sorry, Chan-ah.”

Shutting his eyes, he says lowly, “I packed my bag last night, alpha.”

Seungcheol makes a stricken noise. “Are you… do you want to leave?”

Chan knows he should say yes. It’s not up to him if he continues to stay here. But he can’t make himself say it, and the silence drags out again as he tries to find anything at all to respond with.

Seungcheol gets the wrong idea. Sitting back, he rubs a hand over his face again and says, “Okay. That’s okay. Will you let us help you find somewhere to go, at least? I know we don’t have that right but I’ll worry so much if I don’t know you’re safe.”

For a moment, all Chan can do is close his eyes against the sting. There’s a deep, desperate ache in his chest like a fresh bruise, painful to the touch but impossible to ignore for long. The alpha’s words are like a balm, one he didn’t know existed.

“Hyung,” he says, and it comes out like a whine. Seungcheol jerks, leaning forward but stopping himself from actually touching Chan. The words that come out of his mouth are purely instinctual. “Do I have to go? Can’t I stay? At least for one more day. Please, alpha.”

“Chan-ah, you can stay as long as you want. Of course you can. I just thought…” He shakes his head. 

Something loosens inside of Chan and he slumps back into chair, squeezing his eyes shut to stop the tears from falling. He feels silly and emotional, getting so upset over something so small. But now all the adrenaline from last night has dropped, and he’s exhausted, and this pack alpha is saying he doesn’t have to go yet. It’s all crashing down around him at once and he can’t stop the gasping sobs from slipping out.

The other chair creaks as Seungcheol moves. Then, in a low, soft voice, he calls, “Hey. Hey, baby. Can I hug you?”

Chan doesn’t even consider it. “Please.”

It’s awkward to hug in these chairs, but Seungcheol makes it better, kneeling in front of Chan and wrapping his arms around his waist. Chan lets go of himself to clutch onto him, bent at the middle and leaning fully into the alpha’s arms. They’re big, sturdy arms that hold him securely, that tell his heart and body that Seungcheol won’t let him fall.

Sniffling, Seungcheol rests his temple against the top of Chan’s head. “I wanted to apologize last night, but… fuck, I could smell how freaked out you were and I thought if I tried, I would just make it worse. I’m so sorry, Chan-ah.”

“It’s o-okay.”

Seungcheol rubs his back, and Chan melts even more, sliding off the chair to fall entirely into Seungcheol’s lap. It’s a more precarious position in other ways, but it’s easier like this too, easier to cling to each other.

Seungcheol’s summery scent fills his nose, and though it’s dampened by concern and regret, it makes Chan feel a little better anyway. It surrounds him like Seungcheol’s arms, keeping him safe and protected.

“Jihoon-ah… he told me how panicked you looked when he was in your way last night. That’s not okay, baby, you don’t have to pretend it is. I don’t want you to feel unsafe here ever.”

Chan doesn’t—can’t—reply. Ducking his head against his shoulder, he tries to avoid rubbing any part of his face against Seungcheol’s scent gland. He doesn’t need to know that feeling unsafe is something Chan’s always struggling with.

When Seungcheol sighs, it comes out almost like a rumble. But it’s not a warning; it’s a purely alpha sound that awakens the omega inside Chan. His tears start to dry as he sucks in a breath, feeling his chest go warm at the implicit comfort. A hand comes up to touch his hair, soothing little caresses that show how gentle those strong hands can be.

“I’m going to have to learn…,” Seungcheol mumbles to himself.

Chan pulls away slightly, “Alpha?”

“I just thought… I don’t know. None of my maknaes are omegas. The others, they don’t really need this from me. But if you do, then I want to learn. I want to know how to take care of you, treat you right.”

Oh. Squeaking, Chan hides his newly-hot face right back in Seungcheol’s neck.

He makes it sound like Chan will be here for a while, even though he only asked for one more day. Chan’s not going to remind him of that, though. Curling his fingers into Seungcheol’s t-shirt, he doesn’t know how he’ll ever make himself let go.

When they get back to the dining room, Chan can’t bear for there to be much space between their bodies. He doesn’t understand why but he doesn’t question it either, the need to be close urgent and demanding. Though he makes sure he’s a step behind Seungcheol, he follows him all the way to the table.

Everyone who’s still home shoots them searching glances. 

Jihoon is the one to finally break the silence. “So?”

He’s not looking at Chan—he’s staring at Seungcheol. But Chan is the one who says, “I’m okay, alpha-hyung. Everything is okay.”

Jihoon doesn’t acknowledge his words. Mingyu leans away from him and more into Wonwoo’s side, who mmms and gently bumps their heads together, not looking up from his plate.

“I’m so glad to hear that, Channie,” Joshua says brightly, smoothing over the tension with sheer willpower and a liberal helping of soothing pheromones. 

“The last thing we want is for you to feel badly,” Seokmin mumbles, head low as his scent turns guilty. The sight of his poor little face makes Chan’s heart thump.

“I don’t anymore, I promise,” he says. It’s not entirely true but talking with Seungcheol did help, so much so that he thinks he’ll be truly okay sooner rather than later. Either way, he just wants to reassure Seokmin—he did nothing wrong. It’s no one’s fault.

A short, cut-off growl interrupts his thoughts and makes not just him, but several others at the table jump. It takes a second to realize it came from Jihoon, whose expression is hard even as he reddens under the attention.

Seungcheol asks, very calmly, “Do we need to talk too, Jihoon-ah?”

“Yes,” he says, and stands. Seungcheol does too, and Chan is only just able to stop himself from moving with the pack alpha, forcing himself to stay seated as they leave the room. Some pitiful little part of him whines at the loss of Seungcheol’s scent.

He wants to ask about it, but he stays his tongue. It’s not his business. It’s not his pack.

“Well, that was something,” Junhui says frankly after a minute has passed where no one has said or done much of anything but stare after the two alphas. “Shua-hyung, will you pass me the butter?”

“I have a stupid question,” Chan says the next day, picking at a loose string on the couch.

Wonwoo glances at him, kills another bad guy on the TV screen, and then pauses the game. At that, Seungcheol’s whole body relaxes in the armchair, all of the tension from the game leaving him in a rush. 

Though he claimed to like playing when Wonwoo invited Chan to sit with them, he’s spent the whole time trying not to curse at the screen, urgently calling for Wonwoo to do this or that maneuver, and nearly falling out of his chair from how far he’s leaned forward.

(Wonwoo reassured him earlier that this is normal and has nothing to do with whatever happened yesterday. Chan decided to believe him. Though honestly, even if it did, Chan’s not sure it would matter. He still wants to be close to the alpha, something in his body tethering him to the other man. Last night, he even wished his blanket had Seungcheol’s scent on it.)

“What’s up?” Wonwoo asks, turning to face him more.

“It’s really stupid,” says Chan.

Seungcheol shakes his head as he stretches. “No such thing. Whatever questions you have about the game, Soonyoung has already asked, and if it’s not about the game, then… I don’t know. But we wanna hear it.”

Speaking of Soonyoung… 

“I actually have two questions,” Chan corrects. At Wonwoo’s encouraging look, he says, “Um, so like, who is Hao? Junhui-hyung told me there’s a guy here named that but I’ve never met him. Is he with Soonyoung and Myungho?”

Wonwoo and Seungcheol both take a moment to blink at him. Then they laugh, and don’t stop laughing for the whole next minute.

“I told you,” Chan complains, though it comes out more like a whine. That only makes him more embarrassed, but he doesn’t get up and find somewhere to hide from them, wanting to know the answer too much to leave.

There’s something infectious about seeing them happy, too. The little voice inside him whispers at him about pleasing them, being a good omega. Especially for Seungcheol. He squirms, caught between the conflicting emotions.

“Sorry, sorry, Chan-ah,” Seungcheol gasps out, wiping his eyes. “That’s not stupid, it’s just—“ He bursts into laughter again.

“Ughhh, stop.” As soon as he says it, the words register and he thinks—did I really just tell an alpha to stop? But Seungcheol is entirely unbothered, his head dropped into his hands and his giggles filling the air.

Wonwoo cuts in before he can spiral any more. “Seokminnie and Jun-ah forgot to tell you something important, is all,” he says, still catching his breath. “Myungho and ‘Hao’ are the same person. His name is really Xu Minghao, but he has a Korean name too. Seo Myungho. It’s like Hansol and Vernon, or Joshua and Jisoo.”

Chan listens carefully as he says the foreign names, sounding out Minghao in his head before the rest of what Wonwoo said registers. “Wait—Jisoo?”

He’s never heard that name before, he’s pretty sure. That first day, he heard about Vernon, and sometimes Hansol gets called that, but Joshua is always just Joshua.

“Ye-es?” Joshua asks, peeking into the room. When he sees what’s happening, confusion colors his face. Forced casually, he continues, “What’s goin’ on in here? Are you guys talking about me or something?”

Seungcheol makes a noise and doesn’t come back up. Wonwoo looks at Chan, letting him answer. He wants to tell him plainly what just happened, but he feels petulant and annoyed and silly, and something else comes out of his mouth.

“Omega-hyung, Seokmin-hyung never told me that Myungho’s real name is Minghao or that you have a Korean name too, and I just embarrassed myself so badly I’ll never be able to show my face here again.”

All three of the hyungs laugh again. Chan pouts, not finding it very funny himself. All he knows is that he needs to stop just saying whatever comes to mind—it’s not proper, even if they aren’t upset by it. 

“Stop, stop, I’m getting a stitch in my side,” Seungcheol complains. 

“Poor baby,” Joshua says, coming into the room to Seungcheol’s side. He leans down and pecks him right on the mouth, both of them smiling too much for the kiss to be anything more than that. “Chan-ah, you’re going to kill our pack alpha, you know.”

What? Too shocked to think properly, all he hears is the potential danger of those words, and stutters out, “I’m—I’m not trying to—“

“He’s just kidding,” Wonwoo tells him quietly, patting his knee twice before pulling his hand away. The skin he’d touched tingles in a way Chan can only call pleasant. He shivers even though Wonwoo’s touch was warm, and pulls his legs up to hug them, hiding the spot away. 

Wonwoo’s face shutters slightly before smoothing out.

“Hyung…,” Chan starts. He’s interrupted by the impromptu theater show happening in front of them.

“No, I’m not joking around, Wonu-yah! He’s crashing out! Doctor, someone get a doctor! Please Cheol, stay with me, baby,” Joshua calls out, fake-panicked as Seungcheol immediately plays along and pretends to start shaking. He slides out of his chair right into Joshua’s waiting arms. 

“Noooo, not my hyung!” Junhui sobs from the doorway where he’s suddenly appeared, alarmingly realistic. “Leave him alone, grim reaper, you son of a bitch!”

“Doctor Wen, come help! We need your expertise!”

“Oh my god,” Chan says to himself, giving up on the idea of learning any more details about this Minghao guy. Instead, he watches and lets himself laugh as Junhui and then Mingyu come running into the room, joining the bit at once. 

They’re all crazy, he decides gleefully, just letting himself enjoy the moment. Completely and utterly insane.

It’s only later, when he’s gone upstairs to hide from the noise in the guest room, that he allows himself to think back on what just happened. Not so much the Minghao truth, because that’s fairly straightforward—he can believe that Seokmin would forget to mention it when he was first introducing everyone, and that the others wouldn’t think to tell him either.

Though it is really embarrassing to think back on all the times he was confused and almost asked why the pack kept forgetting one of their own mates. He’s so relieved he never actually managed to voice his concern aloud.

But the kiss Joshua and Seungcheol shared? And the way Wonwoo touching him felt?

It’s easier to think about the first thing than it is the second. Their kiss was so quick, and no one reacted at all—for a moment, Chan wonders if he made it up. But why would he? 

This whole time, he’s thought… well, to be honest, he’d paired them up in his head. His experience with packs has only been family, where there are parents and children—couples and single people. 

On the other hand, this pack are all close with each other in ways that’s not as easy for him to define. Chan had just assumed that Seungcheol and Jeonghan were together, and Joshua and Mingyu, and Seungkwan and Hansol. 

In comparison, the others were harder to pin down, but he’d assumed they must be in relationships too and he just hadn’t seen them yet.

Growing up, Chan was taught about two kinds of packs: family ones like his own, where everyone was related to another person in some way and the bonds were stronger for it; and friend packs, the weaker of the two, where members who’d been kicked out of their family packs (or decided to leave them went unsaid) came together and made tenuous bonds. 

Until last week, this description never seemed unfair, but Chan had never met a real friend pack then either.

Now that he knows one… he can’t say that this pack feels weak at all. Tenuous is not the right word to describe the Choi pack. It’s clear they’re all bonded to each other, instincts completely attuned to one another. And maybe he doesn’t know all of their histories, but even just his own experience in leaving has shown him that it’s not automatically a shameful thing. 

It can’t be.

Rubbing his knee where Wonwoo had touched, Chan tries to remember if he ever heard about relationships in friend packs. The adults in his family never wanted him and Geon to know things like that. 

What use could it be to know, when they would both always live in family packs?

But now it feels important. Can packs… be together? Can Joshua be with both Mingyu and Seungcheol, if Chan’s guesses are even right? And Mingyu is so close with Seokmin, who’s so close with Seungkwan, and his scent is always on Hansol, who seems to trail behind Jihoon all the time, so.… 

He can go down this road forever, looping around and around, he realizes.

Chan has tried not to think about it much, but this pack has only two omegas and at least five alphas, maybe even six if Chan’s guess about Soonyoung is correct. Who even knows about Minghao. (Though, Seungcheol did say none of the youngest are omegas… so is Minghao another alpha? A beta?)

What does that mean for their relationships? He was always taught that alphas need omegas—but even that first day, Seungkwan was claiming Junhui, who clings to Wonwoo every time they’re in the same room as each other, and spends all the time he can with Joshua and Jeonghan.

Then there’s that conversation they all had. He’s been too panicked to really think about it much since it happened, but now he thinks back and remembers—Seungcheol had asked, who wouldn’t be into Jeonghan-hyung and Joshua-hyung? 

Everyone had agreed.

Even Chan had. His thoughts had turned to a place he’d never known them to go before.

And now this touch from Wonwoo… why is he freaking out about it? The others have touched him briefly—hugs, pats on the back, their feet brushing under the table. But all of those felt incidental, quick, harmless. His body didn’t react beyond enjoying the simple pleasure of feeling solid, seen.

So why did he react differently now? 

After a moment, he realizes he’s not sure when the last time someone touched his legs was. Maybe Junseo, months and months ago? But Chan never bared his legs around other people before he came here; the hanboks he wore always covered him up. 

Now, he’s in a house where alphas, betas, and omegas walk around with their skin showing, and without even thinking about it… he’s followed suit. It meant Wonwoo could touch him somewhere no one else ever has, a sensitive spot he guesses. 

Running his fingers over his knee again, Chan swallows dryly. He imagines that moment again, so quick and distracted by everything else going on, and thinks… I liked it.

Dropping his head to his hands, he mumbles, “Ahhh, what’s going on?”

The longer he stays, the more he likes them. After he unpacked his bag and Seungcheol apologized, something in his brain or his instincts or he doesn’t even know what had simply… changed. 

He hasn’t seriously thought about leaving since, he realizes slowly. 

It hasn’t been that long, in the grand scheme of things—only a day, really; he knows he’s being dramatic—but compared to all the days preceding it, that means something. Doesn’t it? 

His stupid omega is rearing its desperate head and making Chan dream about belonging.

And now that he’s thinking about all this, that little voice inside of him is calling out to him. Trust them, it demands of him. Put your faith in them. Know your heart and let them know it too.

But Chan can’t. He just can’t. 

If even just a touch from Wonwoo, who’s only a beta, can impact Chan so much, how can he possibly do more? He doesn’t know what his body is asking of him. He doesn’t know anything.

The next day, when Chan finds himself downstairs after most of the pack has left for work, he looks around at everything in a new light. 

Those ridiculous pictures of Seungkwan and Jeonghan seem more coupley now. There’s a smaller frame near them that he’s never looked closer at, that upon further inspection, reveals Seokmin and Wonwoo holding hands. He even finds a strip of photobooth pictures of a much younger looking Seungcheol, Jihoon, and a guy who must be Soonyoung. They took turns being squished in the middle.

Chan’s eyes linger on Soonyoung, his swoopy hair and puffy cheeks. He looks soft, but not in a bad way. Like he’d be nice. It’s hard to reconcile his face with the impression the pack has given him, but…

The way Seungcheol and Jihoon are looking at him, Chan knows this pack began with love. No matter what it looks like now or how much it’s grown, he feels confident about that.

He wants to keep looking, but it starts to feel invasive after a while. Before he moves on, he tries to find Minghao in one of the photos too. It takes a moment since there are so many, but finally he finds one taken in front of Mingyu’s family’s restaurant. There’s Mingyu, tall and beaming, and there’s Jeonghan, a small content smile on his face. On Mingyu’s other side stands the last member of the pack, the one Chan saw for a few seconds his first day here—the man who must be Minghao.

Swallowing, Chan takes in his face. Compared to Soonyoung, he’s much more angular, but he doesn’t come off as mean or too sharp either. Though his plush mouth is only just tilted up, Chan can see a gleam in his eyes that, if he had to guess, he would call pride. In the picture, Mingyu is wrapped all around him.

They’re all so… touchy, Chan thinks, pulling away finally. There’s proof everywhere of how close they are. 

It’s so different from his own family, who rarely touch each other. His own parents are exceptions, always linking their arms or holding hands. But other than brief, stiff hugs now and then, Chan can’t recall the last time he touched any of his family members. 

Except Junseo. Junseo had grown up more like this, with cousins running around and piling into beds with each other all the time. He’d had a hard time adjusting to the Lee family, Chan knows. At the time, he couldn’t understand why—he’d thought Subin was being overprotective, the way she always found a way to be touching him.

But now… he thinks he gets it, sort of. At least more than he did. If Junseo’s family is anything like this pack, then it must have been so difficult for him to leave it all behind.

A wave of grief shivers down Chan’s back, and he forces himself away, ignoring all the other photos and mementos on the walls.

He needs a change of topic, now. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he casts around for anything—anything at all.

Looking around the pack house, he can’t help but frown at how quiet and empty it is. Thinking back on the last few days, he’s spent most of it with another person, bar the times he’s hidden in his room. It’s odd to be here in a common area and not hear Seokmin singing, or Hansol’s weird but cute laugh.

But he doesn’t want to think about that, either. His chest aches with a longing he doesn’t understand and doesn’t want to examine.

He makes himself wonder about something else instead. Since someone is always inviting him to do something, he hasn’t really had a chance to just… exist here. 

That’s what he did at home, mostly; he took care of the house and waited for his family to tell him his life was beginning. After he was done with school, everything just… dried up. His family didn’t want him to leave them behind, and he could never let himself consider it. Sometimes, he was allowed to do odd jobs for the neighbors, whose younger omegas were all in various stages of pregnancy, but that was it.

Walking around downstairs without a set place to go in mind, Chan frowns as he remembers that. Some of his older relatives had liked the idea of that, having so many little ones at once. But Chan and Junseo had shied away from the idea, neither one very interested in the whole… ordeal… of pregnancy. 

The only silver lining was that it meant Chan got out of the house and earned him a few won.

He got to learn new things that way, and he came home every night feeling just a little more independent. Everything had stopped when Harabeonim realized what was happening—that he was changing. The neighbors found someone else to get help from, and Chan hid the money he’d earned in the wallet that he’d snuck out to buy.

After, Harabeonim didn’t quite ban Chan from leaving the house, not even he was that cruel. But all the same, Chan felt trapped, having to wait for his parents or Geon to go on errands to be able to step outside past the front yard. Inside, his grandparents kept a strict eye on him. There was no relief… except when Junseo came to visit him, or Subin let him come over.

It’s been a while since he thought about that. When it all happened, Chan hadn’t questioned it. What Harabeonim says, goes. But Junseo had been unhappy about it, right up until the last time they saw each other.

“It’s not right, Chan-ah,” he’d said exhaustedly, sitting primly on his and Subin’s couch. “Pack alphas shouldn’t be able to do this. He thinks he can just because they’re…”

He’d never finished his sentence, going pale and swaying a little. Any questions Chan had had about what he was going to say evaporated into concern. After that, there was no time to worry about it again.

And now… he wonders about the members of this pack. Seungkwan said some of them were runaways too. Had any of them experienced something similar to him? Had they been forced to stay inside? Or lost someone they loved?

If he told the pack what he’s gone through, what would they think? Would they accept it as normal like he had, or would they react like Junseo?

He doesn’t know.

His slow, meandering walk takes him to the living room. 

Besides the floor, it’s still a mess. Every flat surface is covered.

Oh, he thinks consideringly, relieved to let go of his melancholy thoughts.

Maybe Chan can kill two birds with one stone. Pay back some of the debt he owes this pack, and also learn more about being independent, doing things because he wants to do them and not because he was told to. Right? 

He’s learning a new way to live already thanks to this pack, but it’s not going to be helpful for him to only know how to rely on others when he eventually leaves and has to make it on his own.

It gets him thinking about how he’s lived here for what—six? Has it been six?—days, and he hasn’t done almost anything to help out. 

(Making breakfast doesn’t count, because other than that first morning, that really consists of listening to Junhui talk while Mingyu and Joshua do all the actual helping.)

It’s unacceptable. He won’t take advantage of this pack.

So he starts to clean.

First, he goes and grabs a garbage bag, which takes some searching. He’s pretty sure there’s a chore chart somewhere around here just based on how they all talk about it being so-and-so’s “turn” to do the dishes or take out the trash. But Chan’s name isn’t on it, so he’s never had to know where to find the bags. Once he has one, though, he throws himself into cleaning up the living room.

This is how Hansol and Jihoon find him, some time later—going through the contents of the coffee table one piece of junk at a time.

“Hey, Chan,” Hansol greets, coming to join him on the floor. Jihoon waves but elects to sit on the couch instead. “What’s up?”

Chan shifts to sit sideways so he can see both of them and the table at the same time.

“Just thought I’d help out a bit,” he replies, trying to sound confident in what he’s doing. He is, but having to defend his actions is not something he’s ever been good at.

“You don’t have to clean up after us,” Jihoon says before Hansol can. “You’re a guest here, it’s not your job to do anything but recover.”

“Recover?” Chan frowns. “What do you mean? I’m fine.”

“I mean, you just had a loss in your family, and now you’re in the big city….” He stops short of pointing out that Chan has run away. “That’s a lot, Chan-ah.”

Thankfully, Jihoon also doesn’t mention the scare or the talk with Seungcheol, and he doesn’t even know about all of the other swirling thoughts he’s had the last few days—but between that and everything else, it is a lot. Chan can’t deny that.

“That’s true, hyung. But… I don’t want to just sit around doing nothing. I know I don’t have to do this,” he gestures to the table, looking up at Jihoon with pleading eyes, “but I want to. Is that okay?”

Jihoon scans his face for a long moment. “You’re positive?”

Chan nods. His body squirms with anxiety to defy an alpha, but it’s much more muted than it has been before. This is the guy who saw he was scared and wanted out, and stepped aside without one word, much less an angry one. He’s a little blunt but Chan… Chan thinks it’s okay. He thinks Jihoon will be understanding.

Finally, finally, Jihoon proves him right. 

“Fine,” he says, leaning back and breaking the tension between them. “But stop whenever you feel like it, okay? There’s too much mess for one person.”

Hansol smirks. “Is that a hint, hyung?”

“Should it be, Bonon-ah?”

“It’s okay, really, I don’t mind doing it,” Chan tells Hansol. He thinks they’re joking, but just in case, he doesn’t want Hansol to be forced to help if he doesn’t want to.

“Ehh, it’s no big deal. It’ll go quicker with two people anyway.”

Fair enough. It does go much faster, and it’s nicer with conversation too. Jihoon fetches them another garbage bag, rags, and spray to clean up with. Hansol doesn’t say anything to him about helping, so Chan doesn’t either—though eventually Jihoon offers up an apology and an explanation. He and Junhui went too hard in the gym that morning, and now his whole body is stiff.

They tease him about it, and Chan finds that it’s fun to do something as mundane as cleaning with people around to play and joke with. Even last week, he could’ve never imagined being in this situation, a beta helping him clean while they make jokes at an alpha’s expense. But he’s here, and no one is angry with him or telling him he’s not doing something right.

It’s comfortable, and maybe that’s why Chan feels safe enough to ask his other question, the one he never got to ask Seungcheol and Wonwoo. 

During a natural break in the conversation, he stares down at the table, now much more visible, and rubs at a stain. He tries to sound casual when he asks, “So do Soonyoung and Minghao not want to meet me?”

“What?” Jihoon exclaims. “Why would you think that?”

Casualness, failed. Cringing, Chan stutters out some kind of answer. “I’ve met everyone else, so I just… I don’t know, I thought….”

Hansol shakes his head, rubbing Chan’s arm. “No, no, no. It’s not like that at all, Chan-ah.”

Though these two were the ones who’d spoken before about it being normal, they explain now that it’s not really. It’s just that all of Soonyoung and Minghao’s hard work for the past year and half is coming together now, resulting in a dance recital that could get them even better jobs. Choreographers at one of the big idol companies. 

It’s a big deal, and they’re both perfectionists who want it to be flawless.

“It’s kind of ridiculous they keep missing you,” Hansol says bluntly, rolling his eyes good naturedly. “Myungho keeps texting me about wanting to meet you but then they get home at like one AM and leave in the morning without even eating breakfast. It’s dumb.”

“That’s Soonyoung,” Jihoon explains, slumped into the couch cushions and staring at the ceiling. “Everything has to be perfect. He can’t think about anything else. Not even his pack.”

Chan frowns down at the table. Despite all of the comments he’d heard, it’s been clear to him that everyone loves Soonyoung. As the days have passed, his initial fear of the man has eased a lot. But… he doesn’t know what to think of this new piece of information.

Maybe Hansol can tell, because he says, “Hyung is just passionate,” as if to explain.

Jihoon nods, eyes trailing aimlessly as he explains, “He loves to dance, it’s his whole life. This opportunity is one he’s been waiting for for years. And getting to do it with Myungho, they’re both so excited and nervous, it’s eating up all their time.”

“When is the recital?” Chan asks. 

Junhui says he has to go, and he doubts that anyone else will let him sit it out. It’ll be weird to go support two people he’s never met, but maybe if he learns more, it won’t be so bad.

“It’s tomorrow night, actually.”

Oh. Very soon, then. Chan tilts his head as he considers how it might all go down—but Hansol helps by explaining more.

“We’ll all go together, and probably eat after. Myungho is chill—you’ll like him, I think. He’s like Wonwoo-hyung but sassier, if you can believe it.”

“Is that even possible?” Chan quips without thinking. 

Hansol and Jihoon laugh, and Chan can’t help but join them, a quiet, shocked giggle. There’s just something about this pack that makes him forget his place, to hold his tongue.

“Honestly, you might come to miss the past few days once you meet Soonyoung. He’s clingy,” Jihoon tells Chan after they’ve calmed down. Though only a week ago, hearing an alpha call someone else clingy would’ve been a bad thing, now he can only hear the fondness in this hyung’s voice. Twiddling his thumbs, Jihoon says dramatically, “He adopts new pack mates like he gave birth to them himself.”

Hansol makes an exaggeratedly disgusted face. “Ew, hyung, don’t say that. I’ve had his tongue in my mouth. Gross.”

“But am I wrong?”

“Uh, yeah, I wouldn’t really say—“

Chan interrupts before they can get going too far. “I don’t know, alpha-hyung. I’m not… I’m not pack. What if he doesn’t like me?” He hasn’t forgotten all of the jokes about how insane and intense this guy can be. Even seeing his kind-seeming face hasn’t helped with that.

Hansol opens his mouth, then shuts it. “Do you want a serious answer, man? I was gonna joke that as long as your name isn’t Boo Seungkwan, you’ll be fine, but that sounded kind of like you’re being for real.”

“I am, I do,” Chan admits, throwing down the rag and dropping his head to his hands. He’s embarrassed enough about this, it doesn’t help having these two read his feelings so easily. “Alpha Cheol said that this whole pack started with him, you Jihoon-hyung, and this Soonyoung guy. You guys tolerate me but what if he doesn’t? What if—?”

“First of all,” Jihoon cuts in strongly, causing Chan to instinctively straighten up and scoot back slightly. When he looks up at Jihoon, the alpha’s eyes are more intense than he’s ever seen. “We do not tolerate you. Don’t say that again.”

“He means we like you, Chan-ah,” Hansol adds casually, shooting Jihoon a capital-L Look. “You’re our friend by now, don’t you think?”

As if Hansol hadn’t said anything, Jihoon continues, “And don’t call him Alpha Cheol, he’s just some big headed dork who was dumb enough to put himself in charge of this whole mess.”

Chan frowns, something in his chest protesting both of their words. He has nothing he can say to Hansol, no way to answer that—he’s never really had friends before beyond Junseo, and that was a very different situation. Once again, Chan is reminded how different his life has been from theirs.

As for Jihoon, Chan knows that the other alpha loves Seungcheol, but nonetheless a protectiveness he’s never felt before wells up inside him. The moment between Seungcheol and Jihoon at breakfast a few mornings ago has done nothing to help. 

“Don’t call him dumb. He’s a good hyung and a better pack alpha.”

Compared to Harabeonim… no, there’s not even a competition. Chan will always love his grandfather, but the man has never treated him the way Seungcheol has. Taking him in, taking care of him, apologizing, playing with him. Showing him that a pack alpha doesn’t have to rule with an iron fist. That omegas don’t have to be….

Hansol’s nose twitches at the pheromones in the air, and he shoots Jihoon another look. “Chill, hyung.”

“This is exactly what I told him would happen,” Jihoon snaps back. For a second, the words don’t make sense—who’s he? But then it clicks.

“Did you talk to Seungcheol-hyung about me?” Chan asks faintly. He can’t imagine what they might’ve said—do they want him gone after all? Is Jihoon upset that Chan… well, that Chan just defended his own alpha to him? “Alpha-hyung—“

Jihoon winces, his whole face scrunching up. “Don’t call me that, please don’t call me that.”

Rejection spreads though Chan’s chest, even though he already knew that the hyungs don’t love being called that. He just can’t help it—it’s hard to go his whole life having the polite form of address be one thing and suddenly have to change it. He’s been trying, he has, but it just slips out. And no one but Seungkwan has really fought him on it, so he thought maybe Jihoon didn’t care as much as Hansol had said.

Hansol sneezes and covers his nose. “Guys….”

“It’s fine, Hansollie,” Jihoon says, standing all at once. The movement makes it easier for Chan to take in his scent, and he finds that it’s overwhelmingly upset, a mix of emotions Chan can’t name or understand. It’s like pine in a rainstorm, too fresh and overwhelming. “I’m gonna go.”

Hansol bumps his fist gently against Jihoon’s leg. “Don’t go fight with hyung again.”

To that, Jihoon says nothing. All he does is turn to Chan, visibly calm himself down, and say, “I’m not upset with you, Chan-ah. Don’t think that for one second. Just… keep your hea—mm. No. Never mind. I’m gonna go now.”

With that, before Chan can string together anything to say, he walks right out of the living room and heads back towards where his office is.

Silence reigns. Chan turns to face Hansol, completely baffled about… everything that just happened. It was all so quick. He can’t believe that he just defended Seungcheol, and got scolded, and then got comforted again right after.

Hansol shrugs helplessly. “They’ll talk to us about it when they’re ready,” he says, and Chan isn’t sure who he’s trying to reassure.

When they finish cleaning the tables in the living room, Hansol suggests they take a break, and Chan is more than happy to agree. The air is still tainted with a mess of emotions, so Hansol finds an incense stick—“Myungho won’t mind,” he says—and lights it.

Then he asks, “Wanna go for a walk?”

Chan has left the pack house a few times since he first got here. But it was always to go somewhere, and it was for a reason. He needed clothes or he needed to eat, and someone was taking him to do it. It was fine to go without asking the pack alpha for permission.

But this would be just to hang out. Seungcheol isn’t even home, and like last time with Joshua, the eldest alpha here is Jihoon. Chan doesn’t want to go interrupt him, remind him of whatever just happened. But he also doesn’t want to just leave without telling anyone.

“We don’t have to,” Hansol adds after he’s been quiet for too long. “Just thought some fresh air would be nice.”

“It would,” he agrees softly, freezing slightly as indecision comes over him. “But. Don’t we need to ask Jihoon-hyung?”

“Huh? No, he won’t care. I was just thinking about walking around the neighborhood and coming back, or going to the park or something. Unless you want to go to the river? I can’t really drive, so we’d have to take the train….”

Chan shakes his head. Thinking back, Joshua hadn’t asked for permission either, really. He’d just told Jihoon they were going. 

When Chan tries to explain all of this—stiltingly, because it seems so obvious to him and Hansol doesn’t seem to get it—Hansol pulls out his phone and says, “I’ll just text them.”

Quickly, he types out a message and from elsewhere in the house, a few pings ring out.

“Okay, let’s go,” Hansol grins.

They put on their shoes and walk right out the front door, Hansol carrying his keys in case they get locked out somehow. Chan feels jittery and nervous, but no one comes down to stop them, and the world doesn’t end once they hit the pavement. He takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes as they leave the yard, deciding to trust that Hansol won’t let him walk into the road.

“You’re so cute, Chan,” Hansol says suddenly, and Chan blinks his eyes open, glancing over at him. Hansol doesn’t even the decency to blush as he continues, “I like your smile.”

Chan is blushing enough for both of them. Though he didn’t know he’d started smiling, now he feels as it gets bigger, pleased but shy. “Thanks, beta-hyung—Hansol-hyung. Sorry.”

Hansol hums, bumping his shoulder into Chan’s as they walk. For a little while after, they don’t say much, just pointing out various things that they see. It’s nice to just be, to walk around and enjoy a sunny day and not have to worry about anything.

Okay, maybe that last part is a stretch. Chan’s mind is always busy thinking about his behavior and what others will think or say, if they’ll think he needs to be punished for being too loud or unruly, or for daring to go outside with only a beta. But… he finds it’s quieter now. 

A flash of his dream has stayed with him—I’m an adult even if I’m an omega. 

If Hansol doesn’t think Chan is misbehaving, then maybe Chan doesn’t need to care about strangers’ opinions.

Junseo would be happy if he heard that. In those last months, before Junseo started staying home and Chan wasn’t allowed to see him, he tried to teach Chan more about the way he was raised. The different opinions the world had on omegas were something he brought up several times. But Chan never listened, and it’s only now that he’s gone, and Chan has gotten away, that he realizes he should have. 

Junseo was trying to help him, and he rejected it every time.

“What are you thinking about?” Hansol asks, a little teasingly. “Your face changed pretty fast there.”

Rubbing his arm, Chan says, “My cousin-in-law, Junseo-hyung. He would’ve been really happy to see me like this, I think.”

After a moment, Hansol asks, “’Like this’?”

“Not worrying so much,” Chan mumbles. “Not so cooped up, I guess.”

“Sounds like a good hyung.”

“He was,” Chan sniffs. 

Hansol lets him have a few moments to calm down, bumping their shoulders again. When Chan feels more stable, his breath coming more even, Hansol says, “So, I was thinking. You are stuck inside a lot. If you have any friends from back home you wanna go visit, or if there’s anything you want to do in the city, we can set it up for you. Or like, if you wanted to try doing something in general, I guess. What kinds of things to do like to do?”

“Um,” says Chan. “My only other friend is Subin, sort of. She’s my cousin. But I don’t really want to see her right now.”

There’s too much chaos surrounding the both of them. He feels terrible for abandoning her to her grief like this, but another part of him pulls him back—she has the whole family behind her, taking care of her. Chan doesn’t. Who knows what she would do if she saw him again.

Who knows, he thinks, what he would do. How he would react. He doesn’t want to think about it.

“Fair enough,” muses Hansol.

“And for the other thing… I don’t know. I don’t think I would like the tourist spots.”

“Yeah, they can get pretty crowded. No worries, Channie.”

Hansol looks at him expectantly, waiting for an answer for the last part of his question. But Chan doesn’t have much of anything to say.

“Um. I clean?”

Hansol lets out a breathy laugh. “No, I mean like, what do you do for fun. What are your hobbies?”

When he was a child, he used to sing. Halmeonim liked his voice. Then it became clear he would present as an omega, and it had to stop—he hasn’t sang anything in years. 

He tries to think of something else. In school, he sometimes borrowed his classmates’ magazines and comic books, but he never kept them long. Now, he can’t imagine just picking up a manhwa and sitting down to read it.

“I like to sleep?” He tries. 

Hansol’s mouth quirks up, but it’s obviously not what he wants to hear. “That doesn’t count, dude, we all like to sleep. I mean, do you like to play video games? Write? Paint? Have you ever wanted your own garden or something?”

Chan considers it, even though he knows the answer to all of them right away. No, he’s only ever experienced video games watching Seungcheol and Wonwoo play, and he’d felt no desire to take the controller himself. Writing and painting—he doesn’t even know what he would write or paint about. And a garden? His family has one for growing vegetables, and he’s never had much of a green thumb.

“No….”

“To which one?”

“All of them.”

“Do you like to cook?” Hansol tries. “Jun-hyung told me you’ve been helping him.”

“I just sit and talk with him all morning, I don’t really do anything,” Chan protests.

“But do you enjoy it when you do?”

All of the questions and all of his unhelpful answers are too much. He throws his head back and blurts out, “No! I hate it. I get too stressed out trying to make sure everything is right and no one will want to spit it out. I either rush too much and mess it up, or I take too long and then everyone is waiting on me. Then someone tries it, and all I can think is ‘do they like it? Did I mess up? Are they going to hate me for being useless in the kitchen?’ The only reason I get up so early is to see Junhui-hyung, Joshua-hyung, and Mingyu-hyung.”

Hansol’s laugh is squeaky and joyful in his ears. “Damn, Chan, tell me how you really feel.”

Flushing again, Chan groans. “I’m—I’m sorry—“

“No, don’t, it’s funny. It’s okay. You don’t have to like cooking.”

“But you’re trying to help me and I’m just being difficult for no reason.”

“Nah, you’re not being difficult,” Hansol denies, leaving no room for argument even with a casual tone. “We just haven’t found the right thing yet, that’s all. There’s plenty of options.”

It may be true, but it doesn’t make Chan feel any better. Scrambling to find something he can give Hansol, he says, “Um, I liked watching TV with Seokmin-hyung and Seungkwan-hyung the other day. They want to show me all these old dramas I missed.”

“Dude,” Hansol says, stopping them on the sidewalk. The pack house is back in view, their circle around the neighborhood almost complete, but Chan is stuck there, watching the brightness in Hansol’s eyes as he grabs Chan’s biceps. With sunlight shining in his hair, he looks so attractive that it strikes Chan dumb. “I love movies. We should watch some together some time.”

Heart pounding, Chan can only pull himself together enough to say, “Sure, hyung. We should.”

Beaming, Hansol tugs him in for a hug. “See? I knew we’d find something.”

When Mingyu gets home, dinner has already passed.

Well, sort of. 

Since Chan has been here, according to Junhui, they haven’t had any normal dinners. Usually everyone sits together and eats, as much as possible considering work schedules. But really, even before Chan crash landed in this pack house, things have been crazy. Work schedules changing, family obligations, friends going through rough times. 

Dinner is meant to be formal, but for now, much like breakfast it’s not. 

Chan ate with Wonwoo and Seungkwan and mostly spent the time listening to them discuss the finer points of some new book Chan had never heard of. Just as they were finishing up, Seokmin came in with Jihoon trailing behind.

When their eyes met, Chan hadn’t known how to react—but Jihoon had nodded once, and said nothing, and that was that. Soon enough, Joshua dragged Hansol in, and Jeonghan and Junhui came too, both getting in from work at the same time. 

With the kitchen filling up, Chan stood to wash his plate, and escaped before it got too chaotic.

Now every once in a while, Jihoon’s voice and his laugh echo through the walls into the dining room where Chan has found himself. 

Whatever earlier was, it hasn’t ruined things. Chan is still confused and nervous about it, but that knowledge helps.

Restless energy hums under his skin anyway. Instead of wasting the night in his room—the guest room, not his room— he’s gone back to cleaning. It’s the only thing he can think of to do.

With the living room tidied up some, he’s turned his attention to the dining room. The table there is large, needing to fit at least twelve people, and it’s a good distraction. The only problem is that unlike before, there’s things here that Chan isn’t sure he should throw out. Opened mail, business cards, boxes of still-edible snacks, even a few more pictures and a drawing someone has done. It looks like a child’s work, covered in messy hangul that Chan thinks is talking about an uncle. 

None of that stuff goes into the trash bag—but it means that there’s still quite a mess left.

That’s how Mingyu finds him: slightly bent over the table, trying to reach across it to grab a receipt that’s three months old.

The doorway creaks when Mingyu leans against it. Chan jumps up and whirls around, only catching the alpha’s scent once they’re facing each other. He smells like himself, clean sheets and alpha musk, but like the restaurant too. Meat and cheese and hard-earned sweat. 

It’s a pleasing combination, even if it doesn’t seem like it should be—Chan has never smelled anything quite like it before. 

“What are you up to?” Mingyu asks, bringing his attention back. His voice is tired, his expression soft. “Cleaning?”

“Yeah, um… I just thought I could help out,” Chan manages. He already had to explain himself to Hansol and Jihoon, but something about Mingyu makes him feel extra shy. “You know, pay you guys back for all the things you’ve done for me.”

“You don’t—“

“Don’t say I don’t need to do it,” Chan interrupts, then flushes and looks down. His body tenses at speaking over an alpha—but after a moment, he slightly relaxes, completely unconsciously. Glancing at Mingyu’s face, he doesn’t see anger or offense, just that same tired smile. It makes him feel brave enough to add, “I want to.”

It’s all I know, he doesn’t say. And I’m going a little stir crazy too.

Mingyu gives him a searching look—deep brown eyes piercing his own, trying to read his very soul. Standing up straighter, Chan doesn’t try to project anything but calm, though he’s not sure he even manages that. He just wants Mingyu to believe him, to let it go—after earlier, he doesn’t want to have it be a thing.

He’s just doing what any omega should do. What he’s done for years. Just because this pack is weird and has different rules doesn’t change that.

Whatever Mingyu sees, thankfully, he doesn’t pick a fight. 

“Okay,” he says, stepping further into the room. A yawn cracks his jaw at the same time that he stretches out his shoulders, lifting his arms high. They curl, biceps flexing, and Chan flushes and looks away quickly. 

His thoughts flash, for no clear reason, to the blanket in the closet of the guest room. The blanket that Mingyu had given him, claiming it was really from the omega hyungs. In the time it takes to blink, he imagines it laid out on the bed, so soft and comfortable and smelling like… like himself and like Mingyu….

A hand waves in front of his face teasingly. Chan flinches back, jerking into the table behind him and having to catch himself with a hand before he slipped. 

Mingyu’s sheepish smile falls at once, his hands coming to hover around Chan’s shoulders without ever actually touching him. Concern colors his scent. “Shit, are you okay?”

Even more flushed now, Chan nods miserably and tries to put some space between them. Mingyu lets him round the table without saying anything or trying to follow, though his gaze stays firmly locked on him as if to make sure he doesn’t fall again.

“Sorry,” Chan says, rote. His heart is pounding.

“No, that was my fault,” Mingyu frowns fretfully. “I was saying that if you don’t mind, I’ll help you, but then you didn’t respond, so…”

Chan latches onto the excuse to move past this horribly embarrassing moment with both hands. “No, please, alpha-hyung, that’s okay. You worked all day. I can do this by myself, I don’t mind.”

When Mingyu doesn’t seem convinced, Chan says, attempting a light tone, “What would Jeonghan-hyung do to me if he found out I made you do more after you just got home?”

It’s a joke like the others have made—like the one Seungkwan made about Seungcheol a few days prior. The words are out of his mouth before he has time to consider what he’s really saying.

Mingyu rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Hyung is a softie, you’d be fine. It’s me he’d scold. Even then, I’d be lucky to get just that.”

Later on, Chan will realize Mingyu is only trying to match the joke, the distraction. But there’s something about it that, in the moment, hits him in just the wrong spot. The words being taken too seriously, all the stress of the day compounding.

He can’t help but compare this pack to his own, again. An omega scolding an alpha—it would never happen. Especially not in a situation like this one, where Chan is the one causing the problem in the first place. 

But if it did… Chan has never seen this pack’s idea of a punishment, he realizes all at once. Though it still makes him feel off-balance, Jeonghan is a leader in this pack, and he could likely do whatever he wants to those below him if he felt upset. Even an alpha like Mingyu is under him since they adhere far more to age hierarchy than gender. 

All of the tension and confusion of the day pours right back into Chan, his body curling slightly as he considers just what Mingyu might mean by a scolding—would it be like the gentle rejoinders Hansol gave Jihoon earlier, or like the reprimands Harabeonim often gave Chan?

Mingyu watches his face with widening eyes, and winces at whatever he sees. “Stop thinking so much, Chan-ah. I just meant he would tease me for not being able to leave—uh, well.”

Suddenly, he turns to the table. He reaches out and grabs the first thing he sees, a small pendant tangled in a broken chain. 

Speaking quickly, he says, “This isn’t trash, I don’t know what it’s doing here. It’s Myungho’s, it just broke one day and Wonu-hyung said he’d fix it, but then it got lost and I think everyone forgot about it… I’ll just set it here so I can put it in his room later….”

“Mingyu-hyung,” Chan says tentatively, cutting through the barrage of words. The fear has not left him, undeterred by the alpha’s attempt at distraction. There are pinpricks tingling in his hands when he considers that he’s trying to protect an alpha from an omega, but he cannot let it go. “What do you mean, he would scold you? What… what would he do?”

Various possibilities present themselves to Chan, each one worst than the last. It’s difficult for him to imagine Jeonghan, who has been so kind to him in his own blunt sort of way, being cruel. But Chan knows more than anyone that people can turn on a dime, that not all omegas are as sweet as they pretend to be. 

Mingyu sighs, shoulders dropping, and Chan inhales, his thoughts settling slightly as a rush of soothing alpha scent disperses around him. 

Calm, it whispers to his omega, everything is okay. Hyung is here. 

Alpha is here.

Rolling his neck, Mingyu leans against the table and says, “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not like that. Chan, I don’t know what you went through with your family, but we’re not… we don’t run our pack on fear. Jeonghan-hyung would never hurt any of us, including you.”

Even with the pheromones in the air, Chan can’t… the words don’t make sense to him. His family pack isn’t run on fear, he thinks at once. It’s just traditional. It’s the proper way of things.

For some reason, the defense doesn’t ring as true to him as it has before. 

Ears pink, Mingyu adds a little stiffly, “Hannie-hyung knows that I don’t like to see my dongsaengs struggle alone, I guess. He’d tease me about trying to be a, ugh, a big strong alpha for you. He’d probably call me puppy and tell me I’m a good boy, or something.” 

“A good boy…?” Chan repeats, mind spinning from the abrupt turns his feelings, and this conversation, have taken. 

In the midst of it all, a well of relief springs up in his chest, clutching to Mingyu’s reassurance—Jeonghan isn’t like that. He just couldn’t be sure….

Face and ears steadily turning pink, Mingyu stands up straighter and doesn’t respond to his words at all, though Chan can’t think of why. “What am I supposed to do? Just leave you to clean by yourself? You didn’t make this mess—I can tell you right now half of this belongs to Seokminnie and Seungkwan-ah. They should be cleaning it, not you. Aish, how annoying….”

Grumbling to himself, he throws himself into sorting items on the table, and avoids Chan’s eyes for several minutes. 

In that time, Chan doesn’t do much of anything but watch him, his brain and instincts slowly backing off the ledge he suddenly found himself on. He’d only meant to make a lighthearted comment, but then he spiraled right down into it being true. 

Even with how obviously beloved Mingyu is to the eldest pack members, Chan could all too easily imagine the ways someone at the bottom of a pack could be… he swallows roughly. The ways they could be mistreated.

He even questioned Jeonghan’s kindness.

Ashamed, overwhelmed, Chan doesn’t try to break the silence. 

It’s Mingyu who speaks some minutes later, still pumping out his scent but in a much smaller amount now. The constant low-level comfort eases the stress in Chan’s mind though it can’t erase it entirely. 

“See this?” He asks, picking up a little stuffed bear. It has a hospital band around the neck, human-wrist sized. “Hansol gave this to Shua-hyung a few months ago. We definitely can’t throw it out.”

Chan unsticks his tongue from his mouth enough to ask, “What happened?”

“Car accident. Hyung was okay, just had to stay overnight because they thought he might’ve had a concussion.” He moves on from the topic then, picking up that same drawing Chan had seen earlier. Smiling, Mingyu tells him, “This is from Seungkwannie’s nephew. Aish, that boy gave hyung so much shit for losing this. He’ll be glad to have it back.”

Chan tentatively rejoins him in cleaning, standing beside him and breathing in through his nose in a way he hopes is subtle. Mingyu doesn’t comment on it whether he notices or not, showing him all manner of things left on the table. Each one has a story—this set of dice was a gift to Wonwoo from Jeonghan, and that hat was stolen from Seungcheol by Soonyoung, and this little piano keychain has passed between Junhui and Jihoon so many times, no one remembers who it belonged to originally.

With every story, he impresses something more clearly in Chan’s mind. 

Mingyu loves them all, clearly and sweetly. There is no doubt, no edge to it at all—it’s just a fact. 

He lays items to keep out in piles, one for each of his mates. It’s like he knows exactly what holds sentimental or actual value, and what doesn’t; without his help, Chan is sure he would’ve been forced to give up a long time ago.

Mingyu is yawning again by the time they’re done. Chan frets about it, but Mingyu waves him off. 

“I don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow morning, I can stay up,” he says.

So together, they return all of the various little items. Chan braves the rooms of Junhui and Jihoon again with shaking hands, tiptoes around Joshua’s and Seokmin’s, and stands outside of Seungcheol’s for so long that Mingyu takes pity and does it for him. The rest, Mingyu takes care of—including Minghao’s and Soonyoung’s rooms, not having to say it for Chan to understand they probably wouldn’t want him inside.

Standing in the hall outside of Mingyu’s room, Chan shifts on his feet. He knows they should part ways now, go to bed and let this terribly long day finally end. 

But he can’t let him just leave without blurting out, “Hyung, I’m sorry I was—I don’t think omega-hyung is—I don’t know why I—“

“Chan-ah, I’m gonna hug you,” Mingyu announces, cutting through the words. Chan can only blink as Mingyu slowly bends down, wrapping an arm around the middle of his back.

Like this, Chan’s nose ends up right in the crook of Mingyu’s neck. Inhaling greedily, he sinks into Mingyu’s chest, going a little lightheaded. The alpha takes his weight gracefully, humming a little tune. His other arm comes up and wraps Chan up even more, not restrictive but grounding. 

Before, an alpha’s scent was never comforting, unless it was his appa’s. Even then, it wasn’t like this, or like it was with Seungcheol the other day—his whole body reacting, his anxious thoughts slowing. There’s nothing about Mingyu’s scent that he doesn’t like, not even the underlying pack scent that should put him off, not being his own. It doesn’t, though. Snuffling closer, he finds himself almost searching for it.

Maybe that’s why when Mingyu asks, “Do you wanna come in?”— 

—Chan doesn’t have to think about it when he says, “Yes, alpha-hyung.”