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Beomseok leaned back against the wall as Suho unlocked the apartment door. Suho kept glancing at him, worried, while the other just closed his eyes, unable to process anything else. Too overwhelmed. Too sensitive.
"Come in," Suho said quieter than usual, carefully taking his hand, pulling him from the wall and guiding him to the doorway. He spoke louder, "Halmeoni, I'm home! I'm with Beomseok."
Beomseok seemed a bit lost in space, swaying slightly in his daze, when an elderly woman peeked out from a room and came to meet them.
"Hello, dears. How was your day? Are you hungry?"
"Everything's fine, we'll eat a bit later."
"Oh? You're usually starving like a wolf after school, did you grab a snack?"
"No, we, uh…" he glanced again at the motionless guy, who only gave a slight nod in greeting, "just later. Beommie, hold onto my shoulder."
Suho knelt down. He took off his own sneakers by pulling on the laces and stepping on the heels, then crouched in front of Beomseok, untying and carefully pulling off his shoes one by one. Beomseok swayed but didn't resist, gripping his shoulder as told. Everyone stayed quiet as Suho placed their sneakers with the other shoes and stood up, keeping a hand on the small of his friend's back.
"Can I get you anything? Something to drink? Is he okay?"
His grandmother watched with concern as her grandson's friend didn't react to anything, but she didn't hover too intrusively. They were old enough to handle it themselves, though she was ready to take them to the hospital if needed.
"It'll be okay," he nodded, "he needs to rest, I'll take care of him. Don't worry."
"Alright. Tell me if you need anything."
She watched as Suho bent down again, this time to scoop the guy up into his arms, supporting his back and under his knees.
"Mhm!" he hummed back cheerfully, though his face clearly showed he was worried too. He sidestepped down the hall to his room, pushed the door open with his back, and nudged it shut with his foot. His grandmother sighed and went back to her room. Suho sat Beomseok down on his bed. "How are you?"
"Nothing," he mumbled into his chest, head lowered. "Dizzy."
"Poor thing. Come here."
He sat down next to him, pulling him close by the hand. Beomseok turned, sitting on the edge of the mattress, and clung to his shoulders, resting his chin on one of them. Suho wrapped his arms around his back, holding him tight.
"Come on, let's recharge."
There was a lot about Beomseok that was surprising to Suho, things he'd never encountered before. For example, the fact that Beomseok was an omega without a scent. For a long time, Suho thought he was a beta, like Sieun, but Sieun never picked up on the hormonal fluctuations of people around him, whereas Beomseok reacted to them too intensely. He'd get overwhelmed by their sheer number and intensity. Especially once a month, when his sense of smell sharpened and his body tensed up. Only, it didn't tense in the usual way; Beomseok didn't crave attention — he was terrified of it. He'd flinch violently from every alpha, lower his eyes, and generally try to be completely invisible in public for the week leading up to and during his heat, because he'd be shaken to his core by an almost animalistic fear that someone, anyone, would approach him.
Suho didn't know you could hide your own scent. It turned out Beomseok wasn't even doing it on purpose. Or rather, he wasn't doing anything at all. He didn't even realize it. His own body, under the weight of trauma and extensive abuse, had decided to protect him this way. To attract zero attention. To remove at least one reason for anyone to come near him.
Beomseok told them he was an omega when Suho expressed surprise that he'd been able to comment on a stranger's scent — a heavy, nauseating one, clearly mixed with someone else's. Sieun wasn't capable of sensing or understanding such things; he'd just shrug. "Lucky you," Beomseok had said once, and later his friends realized why.
It was so sad and unfair to him. On top of all the psychological baggage, to carry physical consequences too. Suho discussed it with Sieun. Sieun said that, just like with psychological trauma, this could be worked on carefully and methodically to bring it closer to a normal state. It was hard to talk about his original, baseline condition, but only if Beomseok could get proper professional help.
Suho cried once, holding Beomseok. He felt so sorry for him and was impossibly angry at everyone who had hurt him. So much harm that it led to health issues. The lack of scent didn't affect his condition, but it was already a sign of a hormonal imbalance. Possibly other things were off too. They didn't know and couldn't find out, because they had no way of going to a hospital to check without involving his parents.
Beomseok never complained, never whined about anything, except for the paralyzing anxiety that seized his whole body and mind when it was too early to take suppressants and calming pills did almost nothing for him. For about a week each month, sometimes a bit more or less, he'd walk through school like a zombie. Silent, unmoving, and flinching at any external contact. Except from Suho and Sieun. They were, comparatively, the only ones who could calm him down.
Usually, Suho hovered around him especially hard on those days. Trying to help. To soothe, to protect. From everything. Beomseok never asked, always softly saying "it's fine, I'm okay," but Suho never left his side. He accompanied him everywhere. If it were up to Suho, he'd have taken him in to live with him, or at least for these periods, but he couldn't possibly challenge a high-ranking adult, so he just brought him over to visit. To help Beomseok relax. To let him feel safe.
Suho's grandmother loved Beomseok. She loved him as her grandson's second close friend, and then she loved him as someone even closer. Beomseok was sweet, diligent, polite, and shy. From the outside, it was clear how much Suho cared for him and how much he liked him. And how much Beomseok liked Suho too.
Suho strokes Beomseok's back. Buries his nose in his neck. Beomseok rests his forehead on Suho's shoulder and exhales. He's calmer now. He's almost not scared anymore; his body stops holding itself in such tension and combat readiness. Setting aside the fact that Beomseok couldn't fight at all, he still couldn't relax his shoulders, unclench his jaw, stop frowning, or still the tremor in his hands. Physically, he was braced for danger that could arise at any moment, even though the only defense he could muster was hiding or running away. His scent was already deeply hidden and suppressed.
Beomseok lets out a barely audible whimper as he presses closer. He grips the fabric of Suho's t-shirt on his strong back, rubbing his face against his shoulder.
"Let's get comfortable," Suho says softly, wrapping his arms around his sides. "Climb on."
"Mh…"
Beomseok hesitates but shifts slightly, allowing Suho to settle him on his lap.
"Do you wanna talk, or…?"
"Mm," he hums a negative. "I'd rather be quiet."
"Okay."
"Can I stay until evening?" Beomseok pulls back a little to look Suho in the eyes. Suho nods eagerly.
"Yeah, of course, no problem at all. We can play something or watch something cool."
Beomseok shifts his weight, changes his position, placing a knee on either side of Suho's thighs and pressing his stomach against him. He hugs him with both arms and legs, returning his chin to Suho's shoulder. His favorite position.
Sieun had noticed how Beomseok would start to fall asleep if the three of them were sitting together somewhere for a while. Karaoke, pool hall, PC bang, cafe, park, home. He'd nod off even harder and answer sluggishly if he was sitting close to Suho. Especially if Suho had an arm around him or was leaning on him. Suho had quietly suggested maybe Beomseok's weakness was also from lack of sleep — insomnia or nightmares — but Sieun, through observation and simple deduction, concluded it was a bit simpler. Beomseok was just calm with them. And with Suho. With him, he was so at peace that if their school desks were made for two, if they could sit side by side, Beomseok would sleep in class just as much as Suho. Only Suho from overwork and fatigue, and Beomseok from the comfort of his company. This statement had flustered Suho at the time; he denied it, said he'd never heard of such a thing, but then he started paying attention himself. There was a lot about Beomseok that Suho had never known in his life.
Beomseok felt safe at Suho's house. Safe with his grandmother, safe in his room. Safe to smell like him. To be honest, everything smelled like Suho to him now because he had given him a mark, because Beomseok had asked. Suho had been very flustered back then, asking over and over if he was sure — like, one hundred percent sure? And was there really no other way? Not that he was against it, of course, it was no trouble, but did he really want this? — and then had bitten him too carefully on the upper vertebra somewhere on the back of his neck. Beomseok had sighed with relief then. Whether his father noticed — Beomseok didn't know. His aides probably did, but chose to stay quiet about it. The foreign scent didn't affect Beomseok's behavior, so they probably didn't report it. But he himself could relax a little.
Right now, everything smelled like Suho to Beomseok. Because he was close. Because aside from physically surrounding him, he was enveloping him with his scent too. Stroking his face, kissing his cheeks, tickling him under his clothes, carefully holding his arms. With his whole being and entire presence, Suho was supporting him, and Beomseok felt it.
He kind of wanted to whine, honestly. Or howl. What would express his complete lack of strength and composure right now? He was melting in his hands like a helpless, pampered puddle.
Suho was somehow too patient and too careful with him. He held him in his strong embrace, letting him lean on him. He scratched his scalp with his fingers, buried them in his thick, longer-than-his-own hair. Sometimes his hand slid a little down his neck, stroking the sensitive skin. Beomseok's neck turned out to be the most sensitive, and the most vulnerable. Just as the most defenseless part of an animal is its stomach, which they always prefer to hide until they feel completely safe, Beomseok reflexively covered his neck with his hand when someone at school or on the street spoke to him.
Suho's legs were going numb sitting like this; he lightly patted the guy's back. Beomseok pulled away reluctantly with a sigh. Suho tilted his head with a smile, trying to catch his eye.
"Let's move further onto the bed, yeah? So it's more comfortable."
Beomseok had lovely pale skin, lovely long eyelashes, a lovely hairstyle with long bangs. Once, Beomseok had showered at his place, and it turned out his hair got fluffy after washing, drying in slight waves. If combed, the effect disappeared. Suho hadn't been able to hold back then and blurted out that it looked really pretty. He kept quiet about everything else. Guys don't tell each other that one of them is pretty. But he considered Beomseok just that, and only that. The prettiest of all.
Suho scooted back toward the pillows, leaning his back against the wall. He stretched his legs out to the sides and opened his arms invitingly. Beomseok moved toward him.
"Sit with your back to me."
Beomseok looked up, not quite understanding.
"Lean back against me, come on."
Beomseok didn't overthink it or doubt; it was more that he'd never sat like this with anyone, so he hesitated a little, but soon his shoulder blades were pressed against Suho's warm chest, and Suho immediately hugged him again and bent his legs, squeezing him by the hips. Beomseok didn't overthink it or doubt, sitting with his back to the guy, who rested his cheek against his neck. Beomseok exhaled.
"I wanted to watch a movie with you," Suho began, deciding to break the silence after all. "It's something about hitmen who have some conflict because they grew up together but turned out different, and they're running around dealing with it. There's also this guy who looks annoying as hell, a real piece of work, but he's in the plot too; I hope he doesn't appear too much or at least gets taken out. It came out recently, I even saw a poster at the cinema, but I didn't want to see it that badly, and money's tight right now. And time. Sieun said the reviews say the plot isn't super complicated, so if he watches it, it'll be out of extreme boredom, but with you, we could…"
Suho leaned over his shoulder, trying to see his face, but it turned out Beomseok wasn't listening.
"Asleep already," he laughed quietly, stroking the guy's hair and taking his hand, running his fingers over the slender ones. They were pretty too.
Suho regretted he couldn't see him from the side because Beomseok was also cute when asleep. Beautiful. And having fallen asleep once in each other's arms, Suho woke up first, sensing a new scent. Faint, not intense, but his. Unfurled and revealed only in a state of complete physical and mental peace for Beomseok. In Suho's company. Back then, he held himself back from waking the guy, squeezing him in an even tighter hug, disturbing all his peace and sweet sleep to share that joy with him. Suho hadn't even told him then. Didn't tell anyone, not even Sieun. In case it scared it away. Or in case Beomseok got so anxious again that it would vanish even between them alone.
Suho lowered his head, nuzzling his neck. It smelled again. Of course, Suho couldn't smell his own scent, but he knew Beomseok now carried it with him. Maybe only Suho would notice the barely-there trail, the faintest hint of something else. Something of Beomseok.
He folded Beomseok's hands on his stomach, wrapping his own arms around them. Beomseok was impossibly cute, and in his sleep, he rested the back of his head on Suho's shoulder. Completely open, completely relaxed. Trusting him.
Suho wouldn't move, wouldn't shift his position, wouldn't budge the guy breathing evenly with a relaxed face. He'd carefully wiggle underneath him, sliding down a little, up a little, side to side, moving his legs and arms minimally, turning on YouTube at the lowest volume. He really did want to watch the movie together. And he'd wait until Beomseok opened his eyes on his own, embarrassed at having immobilized the guy for who knows how long.
"Did you at least get some sleep?"
"Mhm."
"Good."
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it," Suho said, pulling him close and kissing his forehead firmly, then smiled. "Wanna eat?"
Suho's stomach growled loudly right at that moment. Right, he'd been hungry since school, and Beomseok had really held him up. Beomseok held back from apologizing. Suho had insisted he shouldn't apologize over small things. Did causing his boyfriend hours of hunger count as a small thing? Suho spoke up loudly before Beomseok could answer him.
"Halmeoni! What did you say about food?"
"Finally you've decided. I'll heat it up now."
And Beomseok would smell hot homemade food in a place where he was waited for and welcomed.