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The eight of them had always circled Xinlong like planets around a sun—protective, orbiting, unable to stay too far away. But for Leo and Geonwoo, the two alphas, it was different. Deeper. A pull low in the gut that never quieted. Xinlong was the only omega in their pack, and every instinct they had screamed the same thing: keep him close, keep him safe, keep him theirs.
Splitting into two dorms had only sharpened that edge.
That night, after a schedule that had dragged on far too long, they all looked wrecked. Xinlong looked like he’d been wrung out and left to dry—shoulders curled in, steps dragging, eyes glassy from too many foreign scents clinging to his skin. Leo stayed half a step behind him the whole way out of the venue, a silent shadow, close enough that Xinlong could lean back if he needed to without ever having to ask.
In the van, Xinlong slid across the seat until their thighs pressed together.
“Hyung,” he whispered, voice thin and frayed at the edges. “There were… so many different scents today. It’s still in my head.”
Leo didn’t answer with words. He just slipped an arm around Xinlong’s shoulders and guided his head down, tucking him carefully against his neck. Xinlong went willingly, nose finding the warm spot just below Leo’s jaw where his scent was strongest. He inhaled once—deep, shaky—and some of the tension bled out of him like air from a balloon.
Alpha scent over omega. Safe. Home.
Leo kept his hand steady on the back of Xinlong’s neck, thumb brushing slow circles. “Breathe, baby. Just me now.”
Xinlong made a small sound—half sigh, half whimper—and burrowed closer.
By the time they reached the dorms, Xinlong hadn’t moved. He followed Leo out of the van like he was tethered, fingers curled loosely in the hem of Leo’s jacket.
Inside the quieter dorm, Leo steered him toward his own room without discussion. Everyone else knew better than to protest on nights like this.
“Let’s shower first,” Leo said softly, closing the door behind them. “Wash everything else off. Yeah?”
Xinlong nodded, exhaustion making him pliant. “Yes, hyung.”
The bathroom filled with steam quickly. Leo worked shampoo into Xinlong’s hair with careful fingers, rinsing away the day, the crowds, the strangers. Every trace of foreign alpha and beta scents went down the drain, replaced bit by bit by Leo’s own—warm, steady, unmistakably protective.
When Xinlong stepped out, Leo was already holding the softest hoodie he owned, the one that smelled most like him. Xinlong pulled it on without a word, sleeves hanging comically past his hands, hem brushing mid-thigh. He looked small and soft and heartbreakingly content.
Leo’s chest did something complicated at the sight.
“Come here, baby,” he said, voice low. “Let me dry your hair.”
“It’s fine, hyung,” Xinlong mumbled, but he didn’t move away.
“You’ll catch a cold.”
“I won’t.” A tiny eye-roll, fond more than annoyed.
Leo just smiled and stepped closer anyway, towel in hand. He rubbed gently at the damp strands, careful around the sensitive spots behind Xinlong’s ears. When he was done, he ruffled the hair into soft spikes, then let his fingers linger, tracing down to cup the nape of Xinlong’s neck.
“Better?” he asked.
Xinlong hummed, eyes slipping half-closed. He swayed forward until his forehead rested against Leo’s thigh, hands loosely fisted in the fabric of Leo’s sweats.
“Hey,” Leo warned softly, amusement threading through his voice. “You can’t sleep like that.”
“But your thighs are comfortable,” Xinlong mumbled, words slurring with tiredness. “Warm…”
Leo laughed under his breath, the sound rumbling low. “Flattery won’t save you.” He bent down, sliding one arm under Xinlong’s knees and lifting him easily. “Nicer than this?”
Xinlong made a small surprised noise, then immediately curled into Leo’s chest, arms looping around his neck. “Maybe,” he whispered against Leo’s collarbone. “Maybe this is better.”
Leo carried him the few steps to the bed and settled them both down, Xinlong half in his lap, half sprawled across his chest. He tugged the blanket up over them, one hand splayed wide between Xinlong’s shoulder blades, the other carding slowly through damp hair.
“You’re trouble,” Leo murmured into the quiet.
Xinlong’s lips curved against his skin. “But you like it.”
Leo exhaled, pressing a kiss to the top of Xinlong’s head. The room smelled only of them now—warm, mingled, perfect.
“I do,” he admitted, voice rough with something tender and fierce. “I love everything about you. Every stubborn, sleepy, scent-clingy part.”
Xinlong made a soft happy sound and nuzzled closer, fingers tightening in Leo’s shirt like he never planned to let go.
“Stay tonight?” he asked, barely above a whisper.
Leo’s arms tightened in answer. “Not going anywhere, baby. Sleep. I’ve got you.”
And under the weight of that promise, Xinlong finally let the last of the day slip away, safe in the circle of his alpha’s arms.