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From the moment Nishimura Riki debuted, the industry never stopped watching him.
They called him a prodigy. A once-in-a-generation dancer.
The omega who moved like gravity didn’t apply to him.
He debuted at sixteen in a six-member group called AURUM. five alphas and one omega. Him.
It made headlines immediately.
The Alpha Group with an Omega Center.
The Dance Prodigy Omega Breaking Stereotypes.
On stage, Niki was shining. His long limbs cut through the air with impossible precision. Every pop, every glide, every sharp turn felt effortless. He didn’t just dance, he commanded the stage.
And off stage?
He smiled.
Wide, shy, bunny-toothed smiles. He laughed easily in interviews. He pouted when teased. He clung to his members’ arms during variety shows while they ruffled his hair and called him cute.
“Our baby omega,” their leader would coo into the camera.
“He’s so sensitive, we have to take care of him,” another would add, slinging an arm around his shoulders.
Fans ate it up. The dynamic was perfect. Protective alphas. One talented, soft omega.
But cameras only caught what they were meant to.
The van door slammed shut.
Silence.
The smiles dropped instantly.
Niki’s shoulders tensed on instinct.
“Why were you standing in front during the ending pose?” one member snapped.
“I- that was the formation we practiced—”
“Don’t talk back,” another cut in flatly.
Someone shoved his knee with theirs, not hard enough to bruise but hard enough to remind him where he stood.
“You’re just lucky you’re good at dancing,” the leader muttered. “Vocals are still weak. Variety sense? Awkward. You drag the group down.”
The words were routine by now. Scripted cruelty.
Niki bowed his head. “I’ll practice more.”
“You say that every time.”
They weren’t yelling. They never yelled. That would leave marks, not on skin, but on suspicion. Instead, it was quiet, constant erosion.
Little comments. Little pushes. Little reminders.
You’re not enough.
You’re lucky we tolerate you.
You should be grateful.
Back at the dorm, the affection didn’t return once the cameras were gone.
Niki washed the dishes alone while laughter echoed from the living room. When he tried to join, conversations shifted. When he sat down, someone would sigh loudly and stand up.
He told himself it was normal.
Maybe this was just how alpha-omega dynamics worked in a team full of alphas. Maybe he was too sensitive.
He was an omega, after all.
He’d grown up hearing how emotional they were. How fragile. How they needed thicker skin in competitive spaces.
So he swallowed it.
He practiced until 3 a.m. most nights, replaying every mistake in his head. Watching his fancams not to admire himself but to find flaws.
Too stiff there.
Expression slipped there.
Foot angle wrong there.
Maybe if he was perfect, they’d finally mean it when they smiled at him.
Maybe if he was perfect, they’d want to be his friends.
The hardest part wasn’t the pushing.
It wasn’t the insults.
It was the rare moments of kindness.
Sometimes, late at night, one of them would toss him a bottled drink after practice. Or wordlessly adjust his mic pack. Small things.
And Niki’s heart would light up stupidly with hope.
See? They don’t hate me.
But the next day, someone would mock his scent when his suppressant patch shifted slightly out of place.
“Smells too sweet,” one alpha would wrinkle his nose. “Distracting.”
Humiliation burned hotter than anger ever could.
He started triple-checking everything.
Suppressants. Posture. Tone of voice. Eye contact. Smile brightness.
He became smaller in the dorm. Quieter. Easier to ignore.
On stage, though?
He refused to shrink.
Under stage lights, something inside him snapped into place. The music drowned out doubt. The cheers wrapped around him like armor. For three minutes and forty seconds, he wasn’t the unwanted omega in a group of alphas.
He was Nishimura Riki.
And no one could push him there.
The breaking point came at a fansign.
A young fan, probably around his age held his hands tightly across the table.
“You look tired,” she whispered softly.
Niki blinked.
“I watch all your fancams,” she continued. “You’re my favorite dancer in the entire industry. When you dance, you look free.”
Free.
The word hit harder than any insult ever had.
Because he wasn’t.
But she believed he was.
And for the first time, instead of feeling pressure… he felt something warm.
Not validation from his members.
Not approval he had to earn.
Just simple belief.
In him.
That night in the dorm, when another comment came “Try not to mess up tomorrow’s stage, okay? We can’t always cover for you.” something inside him didn’t fold like usual.
It didn’t flare up either.
It just steadied.
Maybe they didn’t want him.
Maybe they never would.
But the industry did.
The fans did.
And somewhere beneath all the self-doubt and shrinking and trying to be smaller for them
He still wanted to dance.
Not for approval.
Not for friendship.
But because it was the only place he felt whole.
And maybe… just maybe…
That would be enough.
The comments started small.
They always did.
“You look softer lately.”
Niki had been toweling his hair dry when the words floated across the dorm kitchen. He paused.
“Softer?” he repeated quietly.
One of the members leaned back in his chair, eyes dragging over Niki’s frame in a way that made his skin crawl.
“Your face,” he clarified. “Camera adds weight, you know? Might want to be careful.”
Another laughed. “Yeah. Fans like cute, but not that cute.”
The laughter wasn’t loud.
It didn’t need to be.
Niki smiled automatically. “I’ll work harder.”
“Working hard isn’t the problem,” the leader muttered. “Self-control is.”
The next time it happened, it wasn’t subtle.
They were reviewing a performance recording in the practice room.
The screen froze on Niki mid-spin.
“Pause it there,” someone said.
The video stopped.
Niki stared at his own image. His shirt clung slightly from sweat. His cheeks were flushed from dancing.
“You see that?” one member pointed at the screen. “Your jawline’s disappearing.”
“It’s not,” Niki whispered before he could stop himself.
The room went quiet.
Five pairs of alpha eyes shifted toward him.
“Are you arguing?”
He shook his head immediately. “No. I just—”
“Then don’t.”
The leader stood and walked closer, stopping just within scenting distance. Too close.
“You’re an omega in a group of alphas,” he said calmly. “Do you know how easy it would be for people to replace you? There are hundreds of pretty omegas who can dance.”
The word replace hit harder than any shove ever had.
“We worked too hard for this group,” another member added. “Don’t get lazy now.”
“I’m not lazy,” Niki said, voice barely audible.
A hand gripped his chin suddenly, fingers pressing just a little too tight.
“Then prove it.”
After that, the scale in the bathroom became an enemy.
He started stepping on it every morning. Every night. Sometimes twice in between.
He cut portions smaller.
Then smaller.
Then told himself he just wasn’t hungry.
At first, it felt like control.
If he could just fix this one thing, maybe they’d stop.
Maybe they’d smile at him without it being rehearsed.
Maybe they’d stop looking at him like he was temporary.
But hunger made everything louder.
Their words echoed more.
Their touches felt sharper.
Practice became harder. His limbs felt heavier even as his body grew lighter.
One night during choreography run-through, his vision blurred at the edges.
“You’re late,” someone snapped when he missed a beat.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t fix formations.”
A shove came from behind, harder than usual. He stumbled forward, barely catching himself.
“Stand properly,” another said coldly. “You’re embarrassing.”
His chest tightened.
“I said I’m sorry,” he repeated, and he hated how his voice shook.
“Why are you always so sensitive?” one of them scoffed. “It’s exhausting.”
Sensitive. Emotional. Weak. Omega.
The labels stacked and stacked until they felt heavier than his own bones.
Meals became performance pieces.
He pushed food around his plate when they were watching.
Skipped it entirely when they weren’t.
Sometimes one of them would glance at him and smirk.
“Good,” a member said once when he left half his dinner untouched. “At least you’re learning.”
The approval, thin and cruel as it was, made something ugly bloom in his chest.
If this is what they want…
It escalated the night before a comeback showcase.
Stylists were fitting their stage outfits.
Niki stood on the small platform while the coordinator adjusted his jacket.
One of his members watched from the couch.
“Doesn’t that look tight?” he asked casually.
The stylist hesitated. “It fits fine.”
“It looks tight,” the member insisted, eyes sliding to Niki. “Maybe we should size down next time. Motivate him.”
The room laughed softly.
Niki’s hands curled into fists at his sides.
He couldn’t tell if he was shaking from humiliation or hunger anymore.
Later, back in the dorm, the leader cornered him in the hallway.
“You looked distracted today.”
“I’m just tired.”
“From what? You barely eat.”
The words weren’t concerned.
They were mocking.
A hand grabbed his wrist suddenly, squeezing hard enough to make him wince.
“Don’t faint on stage,” the leader murmured. “If you ruin this comeback, I won’t defend you.”
The grip tightened.
Not enough to bruise visibly.
Enough to hurt.
“Do you understand?”
Niki nodded quickly. “Yes.”
“Say it.”
“I understand.”
The hand released.
He stayed standing there long after the footsteps faded.
The next week, he nearly did faint though Not fully.
Just a stumble during rehearsal. His knees buckled for half a second before he caught himself on the mirror.
“You’re unbelievable,” someone snapped immediately. “Can you not even stand properly?”
“I’m fine,” Niki insisted, though black spots still dotted his vision.
“Get it together.”
They didn’t ask if he was okay.
They didn’t need to.
He already knew the answer they expected.
The scariest part wasn’t the pushing anymore.
It wasn’t even the insults.
It was how easily he believed them now.
When he looked in the mirror, he didn’t see a prodigy.
He saw flaws.
Too soft.
Too emotional.
Too much.
Not enough.
And still somehow both at the same time.
He practiced longer.
Ate less.
Smiled wider on camera.
When fans told him he looked thinner, he laughed it off.
When they said he looked tired, he blamed schedules.
Because if they knew. If anyone knew
What would happen to the only thing he had left?
The stage lights still felt warm.
But lately, even under them, he didn’t feel free anymore.
He just felt small.
And the worst part?
He still wanted his members to like him.
Even now.
Even like this.
Award show stages were different.
They weren’t just performances.
They were statements.
AURUM had been given a special stage at the year-end ceremony, a remix, backup dancers, elaborate formations.And Niki had the center break.
Thirty seconds alone.
Thirty seconds under a single spotlight.
It should’ve felt like a dream.
Instead, it felt like a countdown to disaster.
Practice stretched past midnight every day that week.
The choreographer clapped once. “Again from the lift.”
Niki’s breath came thin and shallow as he moved back into position.
His limbs felt light in the wrong way. Not fluid. Not controlled. Just hollow.
The music started.
He hit the first eight counts cleanly.
Turn. Slide. Drop.
On the transition into center, his foot lagged half a beat.
“Stop.”
The word cracked through the speakers.
All five members turned toward him at once.
“You’re early,” one said flatly.
“I- I thought the cue”
“You thought?” another scoffed. “Don’t think. Just follow.”
Heat crept up Niki’s neck.
“Sorry.”
“Sorry isn’t going to fix it on stage,” the leader said, wiping sweat from his brow. “This is an award show. Not some music bank rehearsal.”
“We can’t afford mistakes,” someone added.
The choreographer tried to mediate. “It’s just timing. We’ll clean it up-”
“No,” one of the members interrupted. “He needs to focus.”
Five sets of eyes on him again.
“We’re all exhausted,” another said sharply. “And you’re the one with the solo. At least act like you deserve it.”
Deserve.
The word dug in deep.
“I’ll stay later,” Niki said quickly. “I’ll practice more.”
“You better.”
They did stay later. Correction. he did.
The others left after two more run-throughs, grumbling about needing sleep.
Niki stayed in the mirrored room alone, music echoing too loudly in the empty space.
Again. Again. Again.
Each spin made his head swim slightly.
Each drop to his knees sent a dull ache through bones that felt sharper than they used to.
When he caught his reflection, his shirt hung looser than before.
Collarbones more defined.
Waist narrower.
His face looked smaller.
For a split second, something like pride flickered.
It’s working.
The fitting for the award show outfits was two days later.
Stylists bustled around racks of custom pieces, black, silver, structured jackets with intricate embroidery.
Niki stepped behind the partition to change into his.
When he came out, the room quieted briefly.
The jacket, tailored just a month ago didn’t sit the same.
The shoulders dipped slightly.
The waist didn’t cinch as tightly.
The pants bunched subtly at the hips.
The head stylist frowned.
“Did we get the measurements wrong?”
An assistant flipped through her tablet. “No, these are from last month.”
She stepped closer to Niki, adjusting the jacket.
“…Have you lost weight?”
The question wasn’t accusatory.
It was careful.
Niki’s heart skipped.
He tried to keep his expression neutral, but he could feel it, the tiny, uncontrollable curve of his lips.
“A little, maybe,” he said softly.
The stylist’s hands paused at his waist.
“You’re still growing,” she murmured. “You shouldn’t be dieting too harshly.”
“I’m not,” he replied quickly.
From across the room, one of his members let out a short laugh.
“See? He can listen after all.”
Another leaned back against the table. “Told you he just needed motivation.”
The stylist’s eyes flicked toward them briefly.
Then back to Niki.
There was something in her expression now. Something measuring more than fabric.
“We’ll take the waist in slightly,” she said finally. “But not too much.”
As she pinned the fabric, Niki stared at himself in the mirror.
The jacket draped more elegantly now.
Sharper. Sleeker. Less soft.
The bagginess felt like proof.
Proof that he was fixing it.
Proof that maybe they’d stop.
For the first time in weeks, he beamed openly.
One of the members noticed.
“Don’t get cocky,” he said. “You still look tired.”
The smile faltered, just a bit.
Back at practice that evening, the atmosphere was worse.
Everyone was running on too little sleep.
Tempers were thin.
On the third full run-through, Niki’s turn wobbled slightly during his center break.
Not enough that most people would notice.
Enough that his members did.
The music cut abruptly.
“Unbelievable.”
“I didn’t even touch you,” one of them snapped when Niki instinctively stepped back.
“You don’t need to,” he replied under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
The leader stepped forward.
“You think this is funny?” His voice stayed low and controlled which somehow made it worse.
“No.”
“Then why do you keep messing up?”
“I’m not- I’m trying”
A hand gripped his upper arm suddenly.
Hard.
Fingers dug into muscle that had grown thinner over the past weeks.
“You’re trying?” the leader repeated. “Trying isn’t enough.”
The grip tightened.
Niki swallowed.
“I’ll fix it.”
“You better. Because if you embarrass us on that stage-“
He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to. The implication hung heavy in the air.
Replaceable.Disposable. Temporary.
The hand released abruptly, leaving behind a throbbing ache.
“From the top,” someone said.
That night, alone in the dorm bathroom, Niki stood in front of the mirror again.
He lifted his shirt slightly.
His waist curved inward more than before.
Ribs faintly visible when he inhaled.
He traced the line of his collarbone.
They can’t say I’m soft now.
The thought should have felt triumphant.
Instead, it felt desperate.
His stomach growled quietly.
He ignored it.
Tomorrow was the final rehearsal before the award show.
Thirty seconds under a spotlight.
Thirty seconds that could either prove them right
Or prove that he deserved to stand there.
He pressed his palms against the sink until his knuckles whitened.
“I won’t mess up,” he whispered to his reflection.
Even if he had to disappear piece by piece to make it happen.
The venue was too loud.
Even inside the dressing room, the bass from the stage performances bled through the walls. Staff moved quickly around them final mic checks, touch-ups, countdown reminders.
“Five minutes until standby.”
Niki sat in front of the mirror while a makeup artist dabbed concealer beneath his eyes.
“You look pale,” she murmured softly.
“I’m fine,” he answered automatically.
The words felt rehearsed now. Polished. Easy.
Across the room, his members were stretching, rolling their shoulders, going over formations one last time.
“Don’t rush the turn,” one of them said without looking at him.
“I won’t.”
“Hit the beat exactly on the drop,” another added. “Don’t hesitate like yesterday.”
“I won’t.”
“Don’t faint,” someone muttered under their breath.
A few of them laughed.
His fingers curled into the fabric of his pants.
I won’t.
I won’t.
I won’t.
The stylist stepped back from him. “All set.”
When the room cleared slightly, Niki stood.
The world tilted.
Just for a second.
He grabbed the edge of the table subtly, hoping no one noticed.
His heart was beating too fast. Too loud. It felt like it was in his throat instead of his chest.
You have the center.
Don’t ruin it.
Don’t ruin them.
The leader walked past him and paused just long enough to murmur, “If you mess up tonight, don’t expect us to cover for you.”
The words weren’t shouted.
They didn’t need to be.
Something inside Niki cracked.
He slipped out into the hallway under the excuse of adjusting his in-ears.
The corridor was dimmer. Quieter.
The muffled roar of the audience sounded distant now.
He stopped near a stack of equipment cases and bent forward slightly, hands braced on his knees.
Breathe.
In.
Out.
His chest tightened instead.
The air wouldn’t go in properly.
His vision blurred.
You’re replaceable.
Hundreds of omegas can dance.
At least act like you deserve it.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
“I’m trying,” he whispered, though no one was there to hear it. “I’m trying so hard.”
His throat burned.
Tears spilled before he could stop them, sliding down carefully applied makeup.
He pressed a hand to his mouth to muffle the sound that tried to escape.
He didn’t want to be weak.
He didn’t want to be sensitive.
He didn’t want to be the omega who couldn’t handle pressure.
But he was so tired.
So hungry.
So scared.
“What if I mess up?” he choked out quietly to the empty hallway. “What if they’re right?”
His shoulders shook despite his efforts to steady them.
For a moment, a dangerous, honest moment, he thought about not going back.
About letting the countdown pass without him.
About disappearing before he could ruin everything.
“Two minutes to standby!”
The call echoed down the hall.
Niki wiped his face quickly with the sleeve of his jacket, smearing concealer slightly.
He straightened.
Smile.
Stand tall.
Be perfect.
Even if you break.
He walked back toward the stage entrance.
The lights hit like a wave.
Blinding. Hot. Overwhelming.
The crowd roared. Music started. His body moved automatically.
Years of training carried him through the first formation. Sharp lines. Clean transitions. Controlled expressions.
He couldn’t feel his fingertips. He couldn’t feel his toes. But he danced anyway
The center break approached.
Thirty seconds.
The others moved away, leaving him alone under a single white spotlight.
For half a heartbeat, everything went silent in his head.
Then the beat dropped.
He moved. Spin. Drop. Slide. Every motion precise. Every extension desperate.
He poured everything into it, fear, exhaustion, the ache in his ribs, the hunger clawing at his stomach, the need to prove he deserved to exist in that formation.
The audience screamed.
He hit the final pose exactly on count.
Perfect.
For a split second, triumph flickered.
I didn’t mess up.
Then the lights shifted.
The formation closed in again.
And his vision tunneled.
The edges of the stage blurred.
Sound warped, like he was underwater.
His legs felt too light.
Too far away from him.
Just finish it.
He forced himself through the final eight counts.
Seven.
Six.
Five.
The last pose hit.
Confetti cannons fired.
The music ended.
Applause thundered.
Niki smiled.
And then his knees buckled.
It wasn’t dramatic.
Not a full collapse.
Just a sharp, sudden drop that he barely caught by grabbing onto the nearest member’s arm.
The member stiffened.
“Stand up,” he hissed under his breath, still smiling for the cameras.
“I-” Niki tried.
The world spun violently.
Black spots swallowed the lights.
He swayed again.
This time he didn’t catch himself.
Everything went dark.
When sound returned, it was muffled and panicked.
“Move— give him space!”
“Call medical—”
“He’s not responding properly—”
Something cool pressed to his cheek.
Voices overlapped.
Not his members’ this time.
Staff.
Managers.
Someone saying his name.
“Niki? Can you hear me?”
His eyelids felt too heavy to lift.
His body felt distant.
And somewhere in the chaos, one clear thought surfaced, small and heartbreaking.
Did I ruin it?
When Niki’s vision cleared, the first thing he registered was the ceiling.
Too white. Too bright.
Someone was holding the back of his head.
“There he is- Niki? Can you hear me?”
He blinked slowly. Shapes sharpened into faces. manager, stylist, a medic crouched beside him.
“I’m fine,” he croaked immediately.
“You fainted,” the medic said firmly. “We need to get you checked out.”
“No.” The word came out too fast. Too desperate. “I’m fine. I just stood up too fast.”
“You were already standing.”
“I didn’t eat enough earlier,” he corrected quickly, trying to push himself up. His arms trembled under his own weight. “It’s just low blood sugar.”
His manager exchanged a look with the medic.
“We’re calling an ambulance,” the medic said.
“No.” This time it cracked. “Please. Don’t.”
Going to the hospital meant questions.
Blood tests. Weigh-ins. Conversations.
It meant the members knowing.
It meant being a problem.
“I can drink something,” Niki insisted. “Just give me water. I’ll be fine.”
He forced himself upright before they could argue more, ignoring the way the room tilted again.
“See?” He managed a weak smile. “I’m okay.”
The medic hesitated, then handed him a bottle anyway. “Slow sips.”
Niki nodded obediently.
Anything to avoid the hospital.
Five minutes later, the chaos had died down slightly. The members had already been ushered toward another area for post-stage interviews.
No one was looking directly at him anymore.
Which meant he could breathe.
Except he couldn’t.
His hands started shaking again, worse this time.
The applause from earlier echoed in his ears like a distorted recording.
Did I ruin it?
They’re going to be furious.
You embarrassed them.
His chest tightened violently.
“I need-“ His voice came out thin. “Bathroom.”
The manager waved distractedly. “Go, but don’t disappear.”
Niki nodded and slipped away before anyone could see how unsteady he still was.
The door locked with a soft click.
Silence. No stage lights. No staff. No members.
Just fluorescent lighting and the hum of ventilation.
The second he was alone, his composure shattered.
His breath hitched sharply.
His hands flew to the sink, gripping the porcelain edge as his reflection blurred in front of him.
“You’re fine,” he whispered. “You’re fine, you’re fine”
He wasn’t.
His chest constricted like something was crushing it from the inside.
Air wouldn’t go in properly.
His heartbeat was erratic — too fast, too loud.
He slid down the wall before he even realized his legs had given out again.
Tears spilled freely now.
“I didn’t mess up,” he choked. “I didn’t- I didn’t-“
But he fainted.
That was worse.
He buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking violently as the panic spiraled.
They’re going to hate you.
You’re weak.
You’re too much trouble.
His omega instincts, already frayed from weeks of stress and restriction felt raw. Exposed. Overwhelmed.
His scent shifted unconsciously.
Distress. Fear.
It thickened in the small bathroom, sweet and sharp all at once.
He couldn’t regulate it.
He couldn’t regulate anything.
The panic attack crashed fully over him then breaths coming too fast, fingers tingling, vision tunneling again.
“I can’t—” he gasped. “I can’t—”
The door opened.
Jake had only stepped in because he caught it. The scent. Distress omega.
It hit his senses immediately the second he passed the hallway.
Sharp.
Panicked.
Unstable.
Every protective instinct in him flared.
He didn’t even think before pushing the bathroom door open.
And then he saw him.
Curled on the floor.
Shaking.
Makeup smeared.
Too thin.
Too small.
Jake’s chest tightened painfully.
“Niki?”
The name left him softer than he intended.
Niki flinched violently at first, eyes wide and glassy pure panic.
“I’m sorry-“ he blurted instinctively. “I didn’t mean to, I’m fine-“
Jake crossed the room in two steps and dropped to his knees in front of him.
“Hey. Hey. No, you’re not.” His voice lowered immediately into something steadier. Warmer. “Look at me.”
Niki couldn’t.
His breathing was spiraling again.
Jake reached forward slowly, giving him space to pull away, but when Niki didn’t, he gently took his shaking hands.
“They’re cold,” Jake murmured under his breath.
His own scent shifted instinctively.
Calm. Warm. Grounding.
He didn’t flood the room.
Just enough.
Controlled.
A protective omega’s reassurance.
“It’s okay,” Jake said softly. “You’re safe.”
Niki’s head shook weakly. “I ruined it. I fainted. They’re going to-“
“Shh.” Jake squeezed his hands gently. “You didn’t ruin anything. I watched your stage.”
Niki’s breathing stuttered.
“You were incredible.”
The words were firm. Not pitying, but Certain.
Jake shifted closer carefully, opening his arms slightly, an unspoken question.
After a split second of hesitation, Niki leaned forward.
The second he did, Jake’s instincts surged.
He wrapped his arms around him securely but gently, one hand cradling the back of his head.
Niki’s forehead pressed into Jake’s shoulder as his body continued trembling.
Jake let his scent deepen just slightly, soft pine and warmth, deliberately slow so it wouldn’t overwhelm him.
“You’re okay,” he murmured near his temple. “Match my breathing, yeah? In with me.”
He exaggerated his inhale.
Niki tried to follow.
It took three shaky attempts before the rhythm started syncing.
“There you go,” Jake praised quietly.
Niki clutched at the fabric of Jake’s jacket like he was afraid he’d disappear.
“They’re going to be mad,” he whispered brokenly.
Jake’s jaw tightened.
“At you? For fainting?” His tone sharpened for a fraction of a second before he smoothed it again. “No one should be mad at you for that.”
Niki didn’t answer.
He just trembled.
Jake pulled him slightly closer, hand rubbing slow circles between his shoulder blades.
“You’re exhausted,” Jake said softly. “Anyone could see that.”
Niki went still at that.
“…You can?”
Jake swallowed.
Up close, it was even more obvious.
The weight loss. The hollow under his eyes. The way his wrists felt too thin in his grip.
Concern twisted deep in his chest.
“Yeah,” Jake admitted quietly.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The bathroom was quiet except for their breathing.
Gradually and slowly Niki’s tremors eased.
His breaths deepened.
His grip loosened slightly.
Jake didn’t let go.
“Do you want me to stay?” he asked gently.
Niki nodded against his shoulder.
“…Please.”
And for the first time that night, Niki didn’t feel like he was about to shatter.
The bathroom felt smaller now, but not suffocating Just contained.
Jake kept one arm securely around Niki’s shoulders, the other hand resting gently at the back of his head. He didn’t rush him. Didn’t force space. Just stayed.
Niki’s breathing was still uneven, but no longer frantic.
Jake let his scent settle more fully into the air, controlled, steady. Warm pine softened with something sweeter beneath it. Comforting. Protective. The kind of scent an omega uses to reassure another omega that they aren’t alone.
“You’re safe,” Jake murmured again, quieter this time.
Niki’s fingers were still curled in the fabric of his jacket.
“…I’m sorry,” Niki whispered hoarsely.
Jake frowned slightly. “For what?”
“For being like this.”
The words were automatic. Reflexive.
Jake felt something in his chest twist.
He shifted slightly so he could see Niki’s face. Gently, very gently he tilted Niki’s chin up with two fingers.
There were tear tracks down his cheeks. Mascara faintly smudged.
He looked exhausted, And small, And painfully young.
Jake’s scent deepened instinctively again not possessive, not overwhelming. Just warmer. Softer.
“You know,” Jake said quietly, brushing his thumb lightly under Niki’s eye to wipe a tear away, “you’re a really cute omega.”
Niki blinked at him, startled.
Jake’s lips curved faintly.
“Adorable, actually.”
A shaky, disbelieving breath left Niki. “I’m not.”
“You are,” Jake insisted gently. “You’re all sharp on stage and then off stage you look like you need someone to remind you to drink water.”
That earned the faintest huff of air that might’ve been a laugh.
Jake felt encouraged.
“I’ve seen you at music shows,” he admitted. “You bow to everyone. Even rookies. You thank staff every time. You smile at backup dancers.”
Niki’s eyes widened slightly. “…You noticed?”
“Of course I noticed.”
Jake’s thumb moved absently against Niki’s sleeve grounding, steady.
“I wanted to talk to you before,” he confessed, voice dropping just a little. “A few times, actually.”
Niki stared at him.
“But you’re always surrounded,” Jake continued with a small, sheepish smile. “And I didn’t want to make it weird. Or have your members think I was interfering.”
The word lingered.
Interfering.
Jake’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but he kept his tone light.
“I figured you probably didn’t even know who I was.”
Niki’s head shook quickly. “I know who you are.”
Jake raised an eyebrow playfully. “Oh?”
“You’re amazing,” Niki said softly, as if embarrassed by the word. “You always smell calm.”
Jake blinked.
For a second, he forgot how to respond.
“That might be the nicest thing anyone’s said to me,” he muttered.
Niki’s shoulders relaxed another fraction.
Jake shifted slightly closer again, his voice lowering into something almost instinctual.
“I mean it, though. You’re cute. And talented. And you work ridiculously hard.” His eyes softened. “You don’t have to disappear to deserve being here.”
Niki’s throat tightened again, but not in panic this time.
“…They don’t think that.”
Jake didn’t ask who they were.
He didn’t need to.
“Well,” Jake said gently, “I do.”
Silence settled between them again, but it wasn’t heavy.
Jake adjusted his hold, letting Niki lean more fully against him. He brushed a slow hand down Niki’s back, deliberately releasing another wave of calming scent. A subtle reassurance.
“You’re shaking less,” Jake murmured approvingly.
“…Yeah.”
“Good.”
They stayed like that for a moment longer.
Then Jake spoke again, quieter.
“Can we be friends?”
The question was simple. Almost shy.
“I mean it,” he added quickly. “Not just award-show hallway acquaintances. Actual friends. Texting. Checking in. Maybe eating real meals together so you don’t ‘forget.’”
Niki’s breath hitched slightly at that.
“You’d want that?”
Jake gave him a look.
“Obviously.”
Niki hesitated , not because he didn’t want it, but because he looked like he didn’t know how to accept something without earning it.
Jake softened further.
“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” he said gently. “You already did enough just by existing.”
That did it.
Niki’s composure cracked again but softly this time. Quiet tears, not panicked ones.
He nodded.
“…Okay.”
Jake smiled relieved at the words
“Okay,” he echoed.
He brushed his cheek lightly against Niki’s hair in a brief, instinctive nuzzle nothing overwhelming, just reassurance.
“Cute omega,” he murmured fondly. “Scared me half to death, you know.”
Niki let out a small, shaky laugh against his shoulder.
For the first time that night, it sounded real.
Jake didn’t let go immediately.
When Niki had finally stopped trembling, when his breathing had settled into something steady and manageable, Jake pulled back just enough to look at him properly.
“You feeling a little better?” he asked softly.
Niki nodded, though his eyes were still glassy. “Yeah.”
Jake studied him for another second, like he was debating something.
Then he reached into his pocket.
“Okay,” he said, trying to sound casual and failing slightly. “Before you disappear again.”
Niki blinked. “Disappear?”
“You do that,” Jake said gently. “You slip away before anyone can keep you.”
Niki didn’t deny it.
Jake held out his phone. “Give me your number.”
Niki froze. “My—?”
“Your number,” Jake repeated, small smile tugging at his lips. “You said okay to being friends. I’m holding you to it.”
There was something almost determined in his tone now.
Niki hesitated only a second before taking the phone. His fingers still shook faintly as he typed.
Jake noticed.
He pretended not to.
When Niki handed it back, Jake immediately sent a text.
Niki’s own phone buzzed in his pocket.
“There,” Jake said. “Now you can’t pretend you lost my contact.”
Niki stared at the screen for a moment.
Jake: Eat something when you get home. I’ll check.
A strange warmth bloomed in his chest.
“…You don’t have to,” Niki murmured.
“I know,” Jake replied. “I want to.”
He hesitated, then gently brushed invisible lint from Niki’s sleeve.
“And if you start spiraling again,” Jake added quietly, “call me. I don’t care what time it is.”
The offer felt foreign.
Unconditional.
Niki swallowed.
“…Okay.”
Jake gave him one last soft look, protective instincts still simmering beneath the surface before stepping back.
“You should go before someone comes looking,” he said carefully.
The reminder made Niki’s stomach twist.
Right.
He nodded and unlocked the bathroom door.
Jake’s scent still clung faintly to his clothes calm pine wrapped around his own sweeter notes.
Neither of them mentioned it.
The noise hit him again.
Staff moving. Other idols passing by.
Niki walked slowly at first, trying to steady himself.
He felt different.
Not fixed. Not okay. But less alone.
His phone buzzed again.
Jake: Text me when you get home safe.
Niki stared at it for a long second before typing back.
Niki: Okay. Thank you.
His chest tightened but softly this time.
He turned the corner toward AURUM’s waiting area.
And immediately felt it.
The shift.
Five alphas in close proximity.
Tension.
Sharp.
When they looked at him, their expressions weren’t neutral.
They were assessing.
“You took long enough,” one said.
Niki bowed his head slightly. “Sorry.”
The leader stepped closer.
Then paused.
His eyes narrowed.
“…What is that?”
Niki blinked. “What?”
Another member inhaled subtly.
The air changed instantly.
“That’s not yours,” someone said flatly.
Niki’s heart dropped.
They could smell it.
Of course they could.
Even faint, even subtle omega scent layered over omega scent wasn’t invisible.
The leader’s jaw tightened.
“You were with someone.”
It wasn’t a question.
“I just- I felt dizzy,” Niki tried. “Someone helped me.”
“Who.”
The single word landed heavy.
“…Jake,” Niki admitted quietly.
The reaction was immediate.
One member scoffed. “Enhypen?”
Another’s lips curled. “Since when are you so friendly?”
Heat crept up Niki’s neck.
“He just- he saw me—”
“Saw you what?” someone cut in sharply. “Falling apart?”
The words hit their mark.
The leader stepped closer again, invading his space.
“You think it looks good? Smelling like another omega backstage?”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“You didn’t mean to?” The leader’s voice stayed low, but there was steel underneath it now. “You represent this group.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” another snapped. “Because right now you smell like you ran off to get comfort from someone else.”
The word comfort was said like an accusation.
Niki’s hands clenched at his sides.
“He was just being nice,” he said quietly.
That seemed to irritate them more.
“Of course he was,” someone muttered. “You always look pathetic enough to invite it.”
The word made his stomach drop.
Pathetic.
“Walking around like you’re about to cry,” another added. “No wonder he latched on.”
“I didn’t—” Niki’s voice wavered.
The leader leaned in slightly, his scent sharpening, not overwhelming, but pointed.
“Don’t embarrass us by acting needy in public,” he said coldly. “If you can’t handle pressure, say so.”
“I can handle it,” Niki whispered quickly.
“Then act like it.”
Silence fell for a moment.
Then, quieter more cutting:
“You’re an omega in an alpha group. Don’t forget that.”
The implication was clear.
Don’t overstep.
Don’t seek support elsewhere.
Don’t belong anywhere but here.
Niki lowered his gaze.
“I’m sorry.”
The apology tasted bitter now.
Not because he meant it.
But because he didn’t know what he was apologizing for anymore.
When they finally turned away to prepare for departure, Niki stood still for a few seconds longer.
Jake’s scent was fading already.
So was the warmth he’d felt earlier.
His phone buzzed again.
Jake: You okay?
Niki stared at the message.
His chest tightened.
He typed back carefully, making sure his hands didn’t shake too much.
Niki: Yeah. I’m fine.
He hesitated.
Then added:
Thank you for earlier.
Across the room, one of his members glanced at him.
Suspicious.
Niki locked his phone immediately.
Smile back in place.
Small.
Controlled.
The warmth might have faded from his clothes.
But the memory of someone holding him gently
That lingered.
And for the first time, a tiny, fragile thought began forming beneath the fear:
Maybe he didn’t have to endure everything alone.
The van ride was silent.
Not the usual tired silence.
This one was pointed.
Heavy.
Niki kept his hands folded neatly in his lap, staring down at the faint crescent marks his own nails had left in his skin earlier.
He could still faintly smell pine.
It was almost gone.
The van stopped.
Doors opened.
No one waited for him.
Inside the dorm, the atmosphere shifted the second the door shut behind them.
The leader turned first.
“Explain.”
Niki’s throat tightened. “I already said I felt dizzy. He was there.”
“You let him scent you,” another member said sharply.
“I didn’t- it just—”
“Don’t lie.”
The accusation cracked through the room.
Niki flinched.
“You think we’re stupid?” someone added. “You came back reeking of another omega’s comfort scent.”
Comfort.
That word again.
Like it was something shameful.
“I was panicking,” Niki admitted before he could stop himself.
The room went quiet.
Five pairs of eyes locked onto him.
“Panicking?” one repeated flatly.
“I couldn’t breathe,” Niki said, voice smaller now. “After the stage. I just—”
“And instead of coming to us,” the leader cut in, “you ran to someone else.”
The logic twisted painfully in his chest.
“You weren’t there,” Niki whispered.
Wrong thing to say.
The temperature in the room dropped instantly.
“What was that?”
“I just meant—”
“You’re getting bold lately,” another muttered. “First messing up rehearsals. Then fainting. Now seeking out other groups.”
“I didn’t seek him out,” Niki insisted, panic creeping back in. “He came in because he smelled—”
“Exactly.”
Silence.
Heavy. Accusing.
The leader stepped closer, not touching him, but close enough that Niki felt boxed in.
“You think other groups won’t talk?” he said quietly. “You think it won’t get around that AURUM’s omega can’t even regulate himself?”
Shame flooded through Niki’s veins.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t fix your image.”
One of the members scoffed. “You’re acting unstable.”
The word hit harder than it should have.
Unstable.
“I’m not,” Niki said quickly. “I can handle it.”
“Then prove it.”
There it was again.
Prove it.
“From now on,” the leader continued, “you don’t wander off. You stay with us.”
Niki’s fingers curled slightly.
“And stop texting him.”
His head snapped up before he could stop himself.
“I’m not—”
“Don’t lie.”
They were watching him too closely.
He swallowed.
“…Okay.”
The answer came automatically.
Even as something small inside him recoiled.
“Good,” the leader said. “Because you’re ours. Don’t forget that.”
Ours.
Not in a warm way.
In a territorial one.
Niki nodded.
“Yes.”
The conversation ended there like a verdict had been delivered.
They dispersed to their rooms.
Niki stood in the living room alone for a long moment.
Then quietly went to his own.
Jake stared at his phone.
It had been three hours.
The message still sat there.
Niki: Yeah. I’m fine.
Thank you for earlier.
Too neat.
Too short.
Jake had sent another text after they’d left the venue.
Jake: You home safe?
No response.
He told himself not to overthink it.
Maybe Niki fell asleep.
Maybe his manager took his phone.
Maybe
His omega instincts disagreed.
There had been something off about the way Niki left.
The tension in his shoulders.
The way his scent had flickered nervous right before turning the corner.
Jake typed again.
Jake: You ate?
He stared at the typing bar for a few seconds.
Nothing.
He tried something softer.
Jake: I meant what I said, by the way. About being friends.
Still nothing.
Jake leaned back against his headboard, jaw tight.
He didn’t like the feeling crawling under his skin.
It wasn’t jealousy.
It wasn’t possessiveness.
It was concern.
The kind that sits in your chest and won’t settle.
He opened their earlier message again.
Eat something when you get home. I’ll check.
He’d meant it lightly.
But now it felt heavier.
Jake closed his eyes briefly, remembering how thin Niki’s wrists had felt.
How light he’d been when he leaned into him.
How quickly his scent had shifted to distress.
That wasn’t just stage nerves.
That was prolonged.
Worn down.
Jake grabbed his phone again.
One more text.
Jake: If you can’t reply, just send a dot so I know you’re okay.
He hesitated.
Then added:
Please.
Niki sighed to himself
His phone buzzed under his pillow.
He froze.
He’d turned it face down.
Muted.
But the vibration still felt loud in the quiet room.
For a long moment, he didn’t move.
The leader’s words echoed in his head.
Stop texting him.
You’re ours.
Act stable.
The phone buzzed again.
Niki’s chest tightened.
He reached under the pillow slowly and pulled it out.
Three messages.
His throat burned.
He typed back carefully.
Just one character.
.*
He stared at it.
Then hit send.
Across the city, Jake’s phone lit up.
A single dot.
Jake exhaled slowly.
Relief, but not comfort.
Because a dot wasn’t okay.
A dot was survival.
Jake typed back immediately.
Jake: Thank you.
Then, after a second:
I’m here. Even if it’s just dots.
In his room, Niki stared at the screen until it blurred.
Even if it’s just dots.
Something in his chest ached.
Because someone was willing to accept even that much from him.
And not demand more.
He locked his phone.
Curled onto his side.
And for the first time in weeks, the tears that slipped down his face weren’t entirely hopeless.
It didn’t happen all at once. It was gradual.
Like a door being pushed shut inch by inch until there was barely any light left.
After that night, the atmosphere in the dorm shifted permanently.
No one said it out loud.
But the message was clear.
Stay close.
Don’t wander.
Don’t reach elsewhere.
If he left the room, someone noticed.
If his phone buzzed, someone’s eyes flicked toward him.
If he smiled at a notification, someone asked, “Who’s that?”
So he stopped smiling.
He answered Jake less.
Short replies.
Safe replies.
He deleted messages after reading them.
He didn’t dare save the contact under Jake’s real name.
Food became background noise.
His anxiety sat so high in his chest that hunger barely registered anymore.
When they ate together, he took small portions to avoid comments.
When they weren’t watching, he skipped it entirely.
It wasn’t even about weight anymore.
It was about the knot in his stomach that never went away.
Every bite felt like too much.
Every swallow felt wrong.
Sleep didn’t come easily either.
He’d lie in bed staring at the ceiling, replaying every word spoken to him that day.
Act stable.
Don’t embarrass us.
You’re ours.
His body felt exhausted, but his mind refused to shut off.
When he did fall asleep, it was shallow.
Restless.
He woke up already tired.
Days started blending together.
Schedules.
Practice.
Dorm.
Repeat.
He moved through them like he was slightly detached from himself.
On stage, muscle memory carried him.
Off stage, he felt muted.
Numb.
The worst part was that the panic had dulled.
Not because things were better.
But because he didn’t have the energy to panic anymore.
When someone snapped at him, it barely registered.
When someone criticized his expression, he just nodded.
When someone sighed loudly and said, “Why do you always look half-dead lately?” he didn’t argue.
He probably did.
The sleep deprivation hollowed him out.
Dark circles deepened under his eyes.
His frame grew sharper.
Even the stylists noticed the outfits needing small adjustments again.
This time, no one commented about motivation.
They just tightened the waist in silence.
The problem was his smile.
Or lack of it.
During a variety shoot, the MC made a joke.
The other members laughed easily.
Niki’s reaction lagged.
He forced a grin, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
The cameras caught it.
Later, in the waiting room, the leader shut the door.
“What was that?”
Niki blinked slowly. “What?”
“You looked miserable.”
“I’m just tired.”
“We’re all tired.”
Another member crossed his arms. “Fans are going to notice.”
“I’ll fix it,” Niki said automatically.
“You’ve been saying that a lot.”
The leader stepped closer.
“You think you’re the only one under pressure? Stop acting like a victim.”
The word slipped in casually.
Victim.
Niki’s chest felt strangely hollow at that.
“I’m not acting like anything,” he said quietly.
“You barely talk anymore,” someone added. “It’s awkward.”
“You don’t joke back.”
“You don’t react properly.”
“You don’t even look grateful.”
Grateful.
For what?
The thought flashed through his head before he could stop it.
He pushed it down immediately.
“I am grateful,” he said softly.
“Then show it.”
That night, he stood in the bathroom staring at his reflection again.
He looked faded.
The spark that used to light up his eyes when he talked about dance wasn’t there.
Even smiling felt heavy now.
He practiced one in the mirror.
Lift the corners.
Soften the eyes.
Tilt the head slightly.
It looked wrong.
Too forced.
He let it drop.
His phone buzzed on the counter.
Jake.
He stared at the name for a long time.
Then flipped the phone face down.
He didn’t have the energy to pretend to be okay for someone who cared.
That felt worse somehow.
At practice the next day, he missed a cue entirely.
Not because he didn’t know it.
Because his mind blanked.
“Stop.”
The music cut.
All eyes turned to him again.
“What are you doing?” one member demanded.
Niki blinked, disoriented.
“Sorry. I—”
“You weren’t even in the right formation.”
“I know.”
“You’re getting sloppy.”
He nodded.
No defense.
No explanation.
Just acceptance.
And somehow, that irritated them more.
“Say something,” another snapped.
Niki looked up slowly. “…What do you want me to say?”
The room stilled.
They weren’t used to that tone.
Flat.
Empty.
The leader’s jaw tightened.
“Don’t get smart.”
“I’m not.”
“Then stop standing there like you don’t care.”
Care.
That word echoed strangely in his head.
He used to care so much it hurt.
Now everything felt distant.
Like it was happening to someone else.
“I care,” he said quietly.
“You don’t look like it.”
Maybe he didn’t.
Maybe he couldn’t anymore.
By the end of the week, even fans started commenting.
You look tired.
Are you okay?
You don’t smile as much lately.
He read them late at night in the dark.
Each one chipped at him in a different way.
He couldn’t even pretend well anymore.
And that made his members angrier.
“You’re dragging the group’s energy down,” one of them said bluntly after a rehearsal.
“If you can’t handle this, say it.”
The leader’s voice was colder now than it had been before.
Less mocking.
More frustrated.
“We don’t have time to babysit you.”
Niki stood there, feeling strangely detached.
Like he was watching the conversation from outside his own body.
“I’m trying,” he said softly.
The words felt automatic.
But this time, they sounded hollow even to him.
The leader exhaled sharply.
“Try harder.”
That night, Niki lay awake again.
Staring at nothing.
The world felt muted.
Colorless.
His phone buzzed faintly on the nightstand.
He didn’t check it.
He didn’t have the strength to hold a conversation.
Didn’t have the strength to reassure.
Didn’t have the strength to defend himself.
For the first time, a frightening thought slipped in quietly:
What if nothing changes?
The hopelessness wasn’t loud.
It wasn’t dramatic.
It was quiet.
Settling.
Heavy.
He rolled onto his side, curling into himself.
Outside his room, he could hear faint laughter from the living room.
He felt very far away from it.
Very far away from everything.
And for the first time, even the stage didn’t feel like an escape.
Jake didn’t like the quiet.
Not from Niki.
The dot replies had stopped three days ago.
Not even that.
Just silence.
He stared at their message thread again, thumb hovering over the screen.
Jake: Eat something.
Jake: You alive?
Jake: Just send anything.
Nothing.
He leaned back on the couch in their dorm, jaw tight.
Sunoo noticed first.
“You’re making that face again.”
Jake blinked. “What face?”
“The ‘I’m about to either fight someone or cry’ face.”
Jay looked up from across the room. “Who are we fighting?”
Jake hesitated.
He didn’t want to overstep.
Didn’t want to make assumptions.
But the image of Niki on the bathroom floor shaking, tear-streaked, barely breathing hadn’t left him.
“He fainted at the award show,” Jake said finally.
Jungwon’s head snapped up immediately. “Fainted?”
“Yeah. After their stage.” Jake ran a hand through his hair. “He refused the hospital.”
Heeseung frowned. “That’s not normal.”
“No,” Jake agreed quietly. “It’s not.”
Sunghoon crossed his arms. “You’re talking about AURUM’s Niki, right?”
Jake nodded.
Sunoo’s expression softened instantly. “He looks thinner lately.”
The words landed heavy.
Jay leaned forward. “Okay. Start from the beginning.”
Jake did.
He told them about the bathroom.
The panic attack.
The way Niki couldn’t breathe.
How light he felt in his arms.
How small.
He didn’t mention the way his instincts had surged so violently it scared him.
Didn’t mention how wrong it felt to see another omega that frayed and alone.
“He smelled like pure distress,” Jake finished quietly. “Not just nerves. Not just stage anxiety. It was… ongoing.”
The room fell silent.
Jungwon’s expression darkened leader mode settling in.
“And his members?” Jungwon asked carefully.
Jake’s jaw tightened.
“They weren’t happy he’d been with me.”
Jay scoffed under his breath. “Of course.”
Sunghoon’s voice was cool. “Possessive?”
“Territorial,” Jake corrected. “Like I crossed a line.”
Heeseung’s brows drew together. “Did you?”
Jake looked up sharply. “No.”
He exhaled.
“I just held him while he was panicking.”
Sunoo’s lips pressed thin. “That’s not crossing a line. That’s basic decency.”
Jungwon leaned back slightly, thinking.
“And now he’s not replying?”
Jake shook his head. “Not at all.”
Jay muttered something under his breath that sounded distinctly unimpressed.
“You think they took his phone?” Sunghoon asked.
“I don’t know,” Jake admitted. “Maybe not physically. But… something changed.”
He stared at the floor.
“He sounded emptier before he stopped answering.”
That was what scared him.
Not anger.
Not fear.
Emptiness.
Jungwon stood.
“When’s the next music show?”
“Two days.”
Jungwon nodded once. “We’ll keep an eye on him.”
Jake looked up. “We?”
Jay rolled his shoulders. “You think we’re going to let you stress about this alone?”
Sunoo crossed his arms. “If he looks worse, we step in.”
“Carefully,” Heeseung added.
Sunghoon gave a small nod. “Subtle.”
Jake swallowed.
Relief mixed with worry.
“…Thanks.”
Jungwon met his eyes. “You don’t ignore distress like that. Not even in our industry.”
Jake nodded.
He wouldn’t ignore it.
Not again.
It was 2:17 a.m.
The dorm was silent.
Niki hadn’t slept.
Again.
His body felt like it was made of paper fragile and weightless at the same time.
Practice earlier had blurred.
He’d missed counts.
Forgotten small details.
The leader’s voice had been sharp all evening.
“Do you even want to be here?”
The question kept replaying in his head.
Did he?
He used to.
He used to want this more than anything.
Now everything felt so far away.
He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor.
His chest hurt.
Not physically.
Just… heavy.
He picked up his phone without thinking.
Scrolled.
Stopped at Jake’s name.
There were unread messages.
He didn’t open them.
His thumb hovered over the call button.
Don’t.
They’ll hear.
Don’t be dramatic.
Don’t be weak.
His hands started shaking.
His breathing picked up again not sharp like before, but building.
Pressure rising.
He couldn’t keep holding it in.
He couldn’t.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he pressed call.
It rang once.
Twice.
Jake answered immediately.
“Niki?”
The way his name came out, immediate and alert made something inside him crack.
There was background noise. Movement. Like Jake had sat up quickly.
“Hey,” Jake said softly. “You okay?”
The question broke him.
A sound tore out of his throat before he could stop it half sob, half breath.
On the other end, everything went silent.
“Niki?”
“I-” His voice collapsed. “I can’t—”
Jake’s tone shifted instantly.
“Okay. Okay. Slow down. I’m here.”
Niki pressed his free hand against his mouth, trying to muffle the crying.
“I’m so tired,” he choked out.
There it was.
Not polished.
Not controlled.
Raw.
Jake’s chest tightened painfully.
“Have you slept?” he asked gently.
Niki shook his head even though Jake couldn’t see him.
“No.”
“Have you eaten?”
Silence.
Jake closed his eyes briefly.
“Hey,” he murmured. “Talk to me. What’s happening right now?”
“I don’t feel anything anymore,” Niki whispered brokenly. “They keep saying I don’t care. I’m trying. I really am.”
The sobs came harder now.
“I’m trying so hard.”
Jake’s grip tightened around his phone.
I know you are,” he said firmly. “I know.”
“I can’t smile anymore,” Niki continued, words tumbling out between shaky breaths. “I don’t have the energy. And they’re angry about it.”
Jake stood up fully now, pacing.
“Where are you?”
“In my room.”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Jake’s voice was steady. Controlled. “You’re safe right now. Just breathe with me.”
Niki tried.
It was messy.
Uneven.
But he tried.
“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Niki whispered.
Jake froze.
“Do what?” he asked carefully.
“Everything,” Niki breathed. “I don’t feel like I matter.”
The words hit like a punch.
Jake’s instincts flared violently.
“You matter,” he said immediately. “Don’t say that.”
“It doesn’t feel like it.”
Jake’s voice softened but stayed firm.
“Listen to me. You called me. That means part of you still wants help.”
Silence.
“You wouldn’t have called if you didn’t.”
Niki’s breathing hitched again.
“I didn’t know who else to call.”
Jake swallowed hard.
“I’m really glad you called.”
There was rustling on the other end like Niki curling in on himself.
“I’m so tired,” Niki whispered again.
“I know,” Jake murmured. “I know.”
He glanced toward the hallway of his dorm.
Decision settling in.
“Can you stay on the phone with me?”
“…Okay.”
“Good.”
Jake’s voice lowered, steady and grounding.
“Tomorrow, I’m seeing you.”
Niki’s breath stuttered. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to.”
There was no hesitation in his tone.
“You don’t get to disappear on me, remember?
A weak, watery sound that might’ve been a laugh slipped through the line.
Jake held onto that.
“Stay with me,” he said softly.
And this time, Niki didn’t try to apologize.
He just stayed.
The dressing room smelled like hairspray and floor polish. Lights flickered overhead, and the air felt heavy with tension.
Jake’s fingers drummed on the edge of the counter. His phone buzzed in his pocket again a simple dot from Niki.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. Enough.
“If I don’t see him tonight, I’m going to lose it,” he muttered to himself.
Sunghoon glanced at him. “You okay?”
Jake nodded tightly. “Yeah. Just… checking on someone.”
Jungwon raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further.
The lights dimmed. Smoke drifted over the floor like a low-hanging fog.
AURUM stepped onto the stage first, cameras flashing, cheering ringing out loud.
Jake’s heart immediately thumped when he spotted Niki in the formation.
The spotlight hit him during the first few lines.
And Jake froze.
Niki’s posture was correct. His movements were precise. Muscles working. Lines hitting exactly where they should.
But his face
The faint shadows under his eyes were darker than they had any right to be.
The skin under his cheekbones was sharper, almost hollow.
His smile, forced, didn’t reach his eyes.
His hands trembled slightly when he lifted them during a turn.
Every beat Jake had memorized from past performances felt correct technically, but… lifeless. Mechanical. Exhausted.
The crowd cheered. No one noticed the slight faltering in his energy. But Jake did.
Every instinct in him screamed.
He’s not okay. He’s barely holding on.
The camera panned across the formation and landed on Niki. Close enough to see his jaw tense. His eyes flicking nervously to the members next to him.
The members’ expressions were sharp, controlled. Cold. They didn’t see him as fragile as barely holding himself together. They saw him as an inconvenience.
Jake’s chest tightened.
The choreography demanded a pause at center, Niki alone in a spotlight for a brief moment.
He executed the break flawlessly. But Jake caught the moment Niki’s legs wobbled slightly when landing from a spin.
The music swelled again. Niki regained composure instantly, hitting the next steps on cue.
Jake clenched his fists, fighting the urge to storm the stage.
He couldn’t not here. Not now.
But he promised himself: after this, he would see him. Fully. No hiding. No safe distance.
Niki had made it behind the curtain, away from the cameras. His hands shook uncontrollably as he clutched the edges of his jacket. The forced smiles, the tight choreography, the constant pressure from his members it all collided at once.
He pressed his forehead to the fabric of the curtain and let out a strangled sob.
“I… I can’t…” he whispered brokenly. “I can’t do this anymore…”
The panic he’d held back for weeks finally surged. Tears streamed freely. Breaths came in short, uneven gasps. His chest burned. His limbs felt heavy and fragile all at once.
Everything he’d tried to control his posture, his voice, his eating, his smiles had collapsed.
And now he didn’t even care.
“Stop… stop it all…” he whimpered, curling slightly inward, trying to make himself smaller.
Jake had been lingering just behind the curtain, worried, knowing he couldn’t leave without at least seeing him. When he finally caught sight of Niki, trembling and curled up, something in Jake’s chest tightened painfully.
He didn’t hesitate. His alpha instincts surged, protective and grounding. He stepped forward slowly.
“Niki,” he said softly, kneeling beside him. “Hey. Look at me.”
Niki’s hands clutched his jacket tighter. “Don’t… don’t touch me…”
Jake paused, giving him the space he needed. His voice softened, steadying. “I’m not going to hurt you. Just breathe with me, okay?”
Niki shook, his breath hitching violently. “I… I can’t…”
Jake wrapped one arm carefully around Niki’s shoulders, the other resting lightly at the back of his head. His scent deepened warm, calm, grounding deliberately slow so it wouldn’t overwhelm him.
“You’re safe here,” Jake murmured. “I’ve got you. You don’t have to pretend anymore.”
The words reached Niki in a way nothing else had in weeks. Slowly, tentatively, he leaned into Jake, letting himself be held.
Jake nuzzled gently against his hair, instinctively shielding him. His thumb traced slow circles over Niki’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Let it out. I’m right here.”
Tears continued to flow, but Niki’s trembling began to slow under the steady presence. His voice was raw. “They… they hate me. They… yell at me all the time. I… I can’t—”
“You don’t have to face them alone,” Jake said firmly. “No one should make you feel like that.”
Niki clung tighter. “I… I don’t know how to fix it… I just—”
Jake silenced him with a gentle press of his forehead against Niki’s temple. “You don’t have to fix it. You just have to survive this with me right now. That’s enough.”
The dressing room was emptying as the next group prepared to go on stage. Jake stood, still holding Niki close, scanning for anyone watching.
“Come on,” he whispered. “Let’s get out of here. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe.”
Niki’s voice was barely audible. “You… you’ll be okay with leaving?”
“I’ll be fine,” Jake said softly, helping him to his feet. “You… aren’t.”
Niki leaned heavily against him, still shivering. His breathing was slower now, but shaky.
They slipped through a back corridor, far from the cameras, far from the chaos. Jake kept his arm around Niki’s shoulders, guiding him gently but firmly.
Outside, a quiet courtyard waited, empty except for the faint night breeze. Niki finally sat on a low bench, burying his face in his hands.
Jake knelt beside him, hand brushing lightly over his back, letting his scent linger subtly calm, protective, unshakable.
“You made it,” Jake murmured. “You’re safe now. No one’s going to yell at you here.”
Niki’s voice cracked, barely audible. “I… I can’t… I can’t do it anymore…”
Jake held him closer, rocking slightly. “You don’t have to. Not now. Not ever. I’m here, Niki. I’m not letting go.”
for the first time in weeks, Niki didn’t have to fight the exhaustion, the panic, or the hopelessness. He just… leaned into someone who saw him.
The courtyard was silent except for the soft hum of distant traffic and the rustle of the night breeze through nearby trees.
Niki sat on the low bench, hunched slightly, face buried in his hands. His shoulders shook faintly, still trembling from the panic attack and exhaustion of the day.
Jake stayed kneeling beside him at first, just letting him lean against the edge of the bench. His hand brushed lightly over Niki’s back, slow and rhythmic, his scent calm and grounding in the cool night air.
“You’re safe,” Jake murmured softly. “You don’t have to move if you don’t want to.”
Niki’s hands relaxed a little. He exhaled shakily. “I… I just… can’t…”
“I know,” Jake said gently. “You don’t have to. Not right now. Just stay here with me.”
The words hung in the quiet night. Niki hesitated for a moment, then slowly leaned sideways, resting his head on Jake’s shoulder.
Jake froze just slightly at first, careful not to startle him. Then, feeling Niki’s warmth against him, his body relaxed. He rested his cheek lightly against the top of Niki’s hair, wrapping one arm securely around him.
Minutes passed. The cool air drifted over them. Niki’s breathing grew steadier, slower. His trembling faded into a gentle sway. And finally… his eyelids fluttered, then closed.
He was asleep.
Jake’s chest tightened in a strange, happy ache.
Niki was resting on him. Safe. Relaxed. Trusting him.
His shoulder and arm were supporting him completely, and for the first time in a long while, Jake saw the boy in front of him truly at peace.
A small, almost invisible smile lifted the corners of Jake’s lips.
“You’re safe, Niki,” he whispered quietly, as if repeating it enough times would make it stick. “I’ve got you.”
The moonlight caught Niki’s peaceful expression, the tension of weeks gone from his small frame. Jake’s heart swelled. Somehow, after all the chaos, all the pressure, all the fear, he’d managed to give Niki a tiny pocket of safety.
And right now, that was everything.
After a while, Jay, Jungwon, Sunoo, Sunghoon, and Heeseung had been keeping an eye out for Jake. They’d known something had happened earlier in the day and wanted to make sure he was okay or at least to see what he was doing.
When they rounded the corner and saw him in the courtyard
They froze.
Niki, tiny and fragile-looking, was asleep on Jake’s shoulder. Jake’s arm was wrapped gently around him, his cheek pressed lightly to the top of Niki’s hair. His other hand rested softly on Niki’s arm. Jake was looking down at him with a quiet, content smile completely absorbed in the fact that Niki felt safe.
Sunoo let out a quiet, impressed whistle. “Aw that’s so adorable.”
Jay’s eyes softened. “Look at Niki… finally relaxed. He’s so comfortable.”
Jungwon nodded. “And Jake looks so proud. That’s actually kind of perfect.”
Heeseung chuckled softly. “I didn’t think Niki would let anyone hold him like that after everything.”
Sunghoon added, grinning slightly, “You can literally see him feeling safe. It’s nice.”
They stayed quietly on the edge of the courtyard for a few moments, not wanting to disturb the moment.
Even in the midst of chaos and exhaustion, this small scene Niki finally able to rest, Jake quietly beaming was enough to make them smile.
And for Jake, who felt the weight of every scary, tense, and overwhelming day… having Niki trust him enough to fall asleep on his shoulder was a happiness he couldn’t have imagined a week ago.
He kept holding him, letting the small, fragile peace stretch out quietly under the night sky.
The first thing Niki noticed wasn’t the light. It was warmth.
His head was resting on someone’s shoulder. Steady. Solid. Comforting.
Blinking slowly, he realized he had fallen asleep. On Jake.
Panic fluttered faintly at first someone could see… they could yell… but when he tried to move, Jake’s arm tightened lightly around him, not forceful, just protective.
“Hey,” Jake whispered softly, his eyes still half-closed from staying quiet and keeping watch. “.
Niki’s voice came out as a small, hoarse whisper. “Hi .”
“You rested,” Jake said gently. “Not much, but enough.”
Niki shifted slightly, still careful not to disturb him. “…Thanks,” he mumbled, voice barely audible.
Jake tilted his head, looking down at him with a faint, proud smile. “No thanks needed. You needed it.”
Niki’s chest tightened. “…I shouldn’t…”
“Shh,” Jake interrupted, soft but firm. “Don’t think about that right now. You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”
Niki let out a quiet breath, leaning back slightly against Jake’s chest, just letting himself feel the small pocket of safety.
After a few minutes, Jake stood slowly, still supporting Niki as he helped him to his feet.
“We should get you somewhere with food and water,” Jake said softly. “You can’t stay on empty forever.”
Niki nodded faintly. He didn’t have the energy to argue.
As they walked through the quiet backstage area toward a small waiting lounge, Jake’s mind was already racing.
They can’t keep doing this to him.
He remembered everything, the fainting, the panic attack, the weeks of exhaustion and restricted meals, the cruel comments and constant pressure.
He clenched his fists slightly.
“We need a plan,” he muttered quietly under his breath. “Something to make sure he’s okay… even if they try to push him again.”
Sunghoon, who had stayed nearby to check on Jake, noticed. “You okay?”
Jake shook his head slightly. “No. I’m not okay. Not while he’s like this.”
He stopped walking for a moment, looking back at Niki, who was sipping water quietly and nibbling on a small piece of bread. His small, fragile frame reminded Jake just how much damage constant pressure and neglect could do.
“I can’t fix their group,” Jake said softly, almost to himself, “but I can make sure Niki has a safe space. I can make sure he knows he’s not alone. That’s my job now.”
Heeseung, watching quietly, gave a small nod. “We’ll back you up. Just… don’t let him go back in until we’re sure he’s okay.”
Jake exhaled slowly. “Yeah. No one’s allowed to push him anymore. Not like that.”
Niki looked up at him, still slightly wary, and murmured, “You… really care, don’t you?”
Jake’s voice was steady, protective, and gentle. “Always. You’re not alone, Niki. Not with me.”
Niki allowed himself to believe it.
And Jake silently vowed: no matter what happened with his group, he would make sure Niki had space to heal, to rest, and to just be.
When Niki returned, the atmosphere immediately pressed in on him again. His AURUM members had already noticed his absence, and their eyes were sharp, assessing.
“Where have you been?” the leader demanded. “Don’t lie.”
“I… I went outside for a bit,” Niki said softly, already feeling the familiar tightness in his chest.
Another member stepped closer. “With who?”
“Does it matter?” Niki said quietly, voice trembling slightly but firm.
“Of course it matters!” someone snapped. “You can’t just disappear!”
“I’m tired!” Niki’s voice cracked, louder this time. His hands curled into fists at his sides. “I’m so tired of all of this!”
The room froze. Niki’s chest heaved, eyes glistening with tears, but his tone was sharp, steady, and unrelenting.
“Stop yelling at me!” he continued, voice rising. “Stop telling me I’m not enough! Stop pushing me! Stop making me feel like I have to pretend to be happy all the time! I’m done!”
Silence fell.
His members stared at him, mouths slightly open, unsure how to respond.
Niki exhaled sharply, the tension leaving his shoulders for the first time in days. “I’m tired,” he said again, softer now but still resolute. “I’m tired, and I’m going to my room. Just… leave me alone.”
Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked quickly, not running, but deliberately leaving space between himself and them.
Inside his room, Niki closed the door and leaned against it, sliding down to sit on the floor. His knees hugged his chest. For the first time in weeks, he didn’t have to hold a smile. Didn’t have to explain himself. Didn’t have to move or speak or pretend.
He pulled his phone from his pocket. A single message from Jake still sat there:
Jake: Are you okay?
Niki typed quickly, barely even thinking.
Niki: I’m… okay. For now.
And for the first time that day, he believed it might actually be true.
After that night in his room, Niki found himself reaching for his phone almost automatically. His thumb hovered over Jake’s contact, and then he typed:
Niki: I… I don’t know what to do sometimes.
Jake replied almost immediately.
Jake: Then we figure it out together. Step by step. You don’t have to handle it alone.
It wasn’t a lecture. It wasn’t criticism. It was simple, grounding, and it made Niki exhale without realizing how tightly he’d been holding himself.
Over the next few days, Niki started texting Jake small updates:
When he ate something
When he felt dizzy or anxious
When a rehearsal felt overwhelming
Jake didn’t push. He didn’t demand. He just responded with calm guidance:
Jake: Breathe. That’s enough. I’m proud of you for trying.
Niki’s small messages became little anchors. Even if the AURUM members criticized him or ignored him, he knew someone was watching out for him. Someone believed in him, and that gave him a fragile, growing strength.
Despite the small victories, practice was still grueling. Niki’s body felt heavy with exhaustion. His hands ached from rehearsing the same routines, and his chest tightened every time he misstepped, even slightly.
The AURUM members were impatient, their energy sharp and biting.
“Focus!” one snapped as Niki hesitated mid-turn.
“I’m trying!” Niki replied, voice strained but polite.
“You think that counts?!” another yelled, stepping forward aggressively, shoving him lightly in the shoulder to make him move.
Niki stumbled, catching himself, a flare of pain running through his side. His movements faltered.
“Stop messing this up!” the leader barked, gripping Niki’s arm to push him back into position.
Niki winced, holding his arm close to his body. Small red marks started to show from the repeated pushes and grips, and his chest tightened with a mix of exhaustion and fear.
He tried to stay calm. Tried to keep up. But it was too much. The words, the pressure, the constant criticism they were suffocating.
By the end of the next rehearsal, the tension in the room had become palpable. Niki’s movements were slow, almost mechanical, and the exhaustion was impossible to hide. His face was pale, his eyes dull, and faint red marks lingered on his arms from the repeated grips and pushes earlier in practice.
“Focus!” the leader barked as Niki stumbled slightly during a turn.
“I’m trying!” Niki said quietly, voice tight but strained.
“Trying isn’t enough!” another member snapped, stepping forward and shoving him lightly in the shoulder.
Niki flinched, catching himself awkwardly. The small jolt of pain shot through him, and he gritted his teeth, holding back tears.
“You’re dragging us down,” the leader continued sharply. “Every time you mess up, it sets us back!”
“I… I can’t…” Niki muttered, almost inaudible. His chest felt like it was being squeezed.
“Not good enough!” one member spat. “If you can’t handle it, maybe you shouldn’t be here!”
Something inside Niki finally snapped. The words he had swallowed for weeks, the constant criticism, the relentless pressure, the exhaustion it all erupted at once.
“Stop!” His voice rang out, louder than he expected. The room froze. Niki’s chest heaved, tears starting to slide down his cheeks. “Just… stop! I’m tired of it all! I’m tired of pretending! I’m tired of this constant yelling! I’m tired of everything!”
The AURUM members stared, mouths open, suddenly silenced by the sheer force of his emotion. For once, Niki wasn’t apologizing. He wasn’t bending or trying to explain. He was done.
“I’m not… not enough, and I don’t have to prove myself to you anymore!” Niki continued, voice shaking but strong. “I’m tired, and I’m leaving!”
Without waiting for a response, he turned sharply and walked toward the dorm, the sound of his own footsteps echoing like a drumbeat of finality. The members stood frozen, stunned, their usual dominance disrupted by the raw honesty of Niki’s breakdown.
Once inside his room, Niki closed the door behind him and slid down to the floor, knees pulled to his chest. His breaths came in heavy, uneven bursts, but the tension that had gripped him for weeks started to loosen slightly.
He pressed his face to his arms, allowing himself to finally cry freely no cameras, no criticism, no judgment. Just himself.
The confrontation hadn’t fixed everything. His group still loomed outside. But for the first time in weeks, Niki had reclaimed a small piece of agency. He had set a boundary, even if only temporarily, and that gave him a fragile, but vital, sense of relief.
For now, he could rest. For now, he could just be.
The next morning, Niki arrived at rehearsal still carrying the exhaustion from the previous day. His movements were sluggish, his eyes heavy, and the faint red marks on his arms were still visible.
A few staff members, including the choreographer and a company manager, had been quietly observing him over the past few practices. Today, they decided they couldn’t ignore it any longer.
“Wait,” the choreographer called, stopping the music mid-run-through. “Niki, can I speak with you for a moment?”
Niki froze, glancing at his members nervously. “Uh… okay,” he whispered, barely able to lift his head.
The manager approached, expression calm but firm. “We need to have a word about rehearsal practices.”
The AURUM members stiffened, unsure what was happening. The leader opened his mouth to protest, but the manager raised a hand.
“This is about Niki,” the manager said. “He’s clearly exhausted. He’s showing signs of overwork and stress that are not acceptable for anyone in our company. From now on, we’ll be adjusting his schedule, giving him proper breaks, and monitoring his health closely.”
Niki’s jaw went slack. He hadn’t expected anyone to actually notice let alone intervene.
The manager turned to the group. “And you,” they said, eyes scanning the members one by one. “Your treatment of him during rehearsals is unacceptable. We will be observing future practices. Any further mistreatment will have consequences.”
The room went quiet. The members exchanged awkward glances, unsure how to respond to the sudden authority.
Niki’s voice, small and still trembling, broke the silence. “Th-thank you,” he murmured. He glanced down at his shoes, not meeting anyone’s eyes, relief washing over him.
The manager nodded. “We’ll make sure you’re safe, Niki. For now, take the rest of the day off to recover. We’ll check on you later.”
For the first time in weeks, Niki felt like someone outside his immediate circle actually saw him, saw how fragile and exhausted he was. And for the first time, he believed he didn’t have to handle everything alone.
The rehearsal room felt different now. The music was on, but the energy was tense, heavy. The AURUM members glared at each other, jaws tight, eyes flicking to Niki, who stayed near the edge of the floor.
The staff had made it clear: no mistreatment. No overexertion. Consequences were coming if anyone pushed him.
The leader muttered under his breath, clearly angry, “I can’t believe this… they’re interfering now?”
Another member, rubbing his arms, hissed, “He’s slowing us down anyway… now we’re supposed to babysit him?”
Niki stayed silent, but his chest tightened. Every whispered comment, every subtle glare, made the anxiety in his stomach flare.
He tried to keep up, but his limbs felt stiff from exhaustion, his mind still replaying the previous confrontation and staff warning.
“Move faster,” one member snapped, ignoring the manager standing at the side.
The manager immediately stepped forward, voice firm. “Stop. That’s enough.”
The leader’s face flushed with frustration, but there was nothing he could do. He clenched his jaw, glaring at Niki with a mixture of irritation and helplessness.
Niki’s hands curled into fists at his sides. He could feel the tension building again the fear, the pressure, the constant “you’re not enough” energy.
He swallowed hard, trying to breathe through the tightness in his chest.
By the end of the practice, the AURUM members were silent, visibly restrained. They moved through the motions, but the atmosphere was icy. Staff kept a careful watch.
Niki finally slumped slightly, exhausted in every sense — physically, mentally, and emotionally.
Back in his room, Niki leaned against the wall, phone in hand. His fingers hovered over Jake’s contact for a long moment before he finally tapped “Message.”
Niki: Something happened at practice today…
Seconds felt like minutes before Jake replied.
Jake: I’m listening. What happened?
Niki exhaled, small and shaky. “They… they didn’t yell, but… it was still tense. They glared at me. One of them said I was slowing them down. Staff stepped in, but… I felt so… scared. And I couldn’t do anything right… again.”
Jake: You did nothing wrong. They’re frustrated, not you. You’re allowed to feel scared that doesn’t make you weak.
Niki typed quickly, almost spilling his thoughts. “I… I think they’re mad that someone noticed. I don’t know if they’ll try to push me next time anyway. I feel… nervous just thinking about it.”
Jake: That’s understandable. But you’re not alone. You’ve got people watching now — and me. No one can force you to stay in that fear. Not anymore.
Niki stared at the screen for a long moment. The tightness in his chest loosened just a fraction.
“…Thank you,” he typed finally. “I… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Jake: You don’t have to do anything alone, Niki. Ever.
Niki let himself believe it. Even though his group was still tense and uncertain, he had someone outside of it who would see him, support him, and help him navigate the pressure.
And that small thread of reassurance was enough to let him breathe — just a little — before the next rehearsal.
Practice had become monitored.
Home had not.
The dorm was quiet when they returned that night. Shoes kicked off near the entrance. Jackets tossed carelessly onto chairs. The tension from rehearsal hadn’t disappeared it had only followed them back.
Niki tried to move quietly, slipping past the living room toward the kitchen to get water.
“Look who’s finally moving without supervision,” one member muttered from the couch.
Niki paused but didn’t respond.
Another snorted. “Careful. Wouldn’t want him to collapse again. Omegas are fragile, right?”
The word stung.
Not because he was ashamed of being an omega.
But because of how they said it.
Like it was something lesser.
Like it explained everything “wrong” with him.
Niki kept his eyes on the counter, hands trembling slightly as he filled a glass.
“Maybe management will give him a blanket and a gold star next,” someone added mockingly. “Poor little omega.”
Laughter.
Low. Dismissive.
Niki swallowed hard.
“I didn’t ask for that,” he said quietly.
The leader leaned back in his chair, eyes cold. “Didn’t you? You cried. You made a scene. Now we’re being watched like we’re criminals.”
“I didn’t mean to”
“That’s the problem,” another member cut in sharply. “You never mean to. You’re just… emotional. Sensitive. Always overwhelmed.”
Niki’s grip tightened around the glass.
“I’m not doing it on purpose,” he whispered.
“Then try harder,” came the immediate reply. “You think alphas get to break down every five minutes?”
The comparison hung heavy in the air.
Niki felt small again. Smaller than he had on stage. Smaller than during practice.
At least there, staff could intervene.
Here, it was just words.
Sharp ones.
“You don’t act like someone who deserves center,” the leader added flatly. “You act like someone who needs protecting all the time.”
That one hurt the most.
Because he didn’t want protecting.
He just wanted to breathe.
Niki closed his bedroom door softly behind him.
No slamming.
No drama.
Just quiet.
He sat on the edge of his bed, staring down at his hands.
Fragile.
Emotional.
Omega.
They said it like it meant weak.
Like it meant burden.
His throat tightened painfully.
He had worked twice as hard as anyone else to debut. Trained longer. Pushed through injuries. Perfected every detail of choreography.
But somehow, none of that mattered when they reduced him to a label.
A tear slipped down his cheek before he could stop it.
He wiped it away angrily.
“I’m not weak,” he whispered to himself.
But the doubt crept in anyway.
If being an omega meant always being the one blamed for tension…
If being an omega meant being seen as too soft…
If being an omega mean his emotions were inconveniences…
Then maybe they were right.
Maybe he was the problem.
His chest felt hollow again.
Not panicked this time.
Just… heavy.
Sad.
Deeply, quietly sad.
He reached for his phone.
Stopped.
Put it down.
He didn’t want to be a burden to Jake, too.
So instead, he curled up on his side, facing the wall, pulling his blanket over his shoulders.
In the silence of his room, without cameras or staff or stage lights, Niki let himself cry softly into his pillow not loud enough for anyone to hear.
Just enough to let the ache out.
The studio mirrors were too bright.
Niki stood in formation, staring at his own reflection. His eyes looked swollen from crying. He had covered it with makeup, but he could still see it.
He wondered if the others could too.
Music started.
They ran the choreography once. Twice. Three times.
No one corrected him.
No one looked at him.
Which somehow felt worse than yelling.
Usually, if he messed up, someone would snap at him. Criticize him. Grip his arm and shove him back into place.
Today?
Nothing.
When he finished a turn slightly late, the leader didn’t even glance his way.
They just adjusted around him.
Like he wasn’t important enough to fix.
Like he wasn’t there.
The silence pressed heavier than the insults had.
During a break, two members stood off to the side, talking quietly. Niki could hear his name. He didn’t need to catch every word to understand the tone.
“…can’t be emotional like that on camera.”
“…variety show is live segments.”
“…if he starts crying again…”
Niki’s stomach dropped.
They were scheduled for a popular variety appearance that afternoon. Bright lights. Fast jokes. Loud hosts. Playful teasing.
The kind of environment where idols had to be energetic and quick.
And confident.
And unbothered.
Niki sat in the makeup chair, hands folded tightly in his lap.
Omegas are too emotional.
Fragile.
Can’t handle pressure.
The words replayed over and over in his mind.
What if he reacted too slowly to a joke?
What if his voice shook?
What if the hosts teased him and he froze?
Would his members glare at him on camera?
Would they bring up how “sensitive” he was for laughs?
His reflection stared back at him — smaller somehow. Softer.
He hated that he suddenly felt hyper-aware of it.
The curve of his cheeks. The way his expressions shifted easily. The way his voice sometimes softened when he was nervous.
He’d never felt ashamed of being an omega before.
Now he felt exposed.
The members were going over talking points together.
Inside jokes.
Planned reactions.
They didn’t include him.
When Niki tried to step closer, one of them casually moved, blocking space without looking at him.
“We’ll handle most of the talking,” the leader said flatly. “Just laugh at the right times.”
Niki nodded automatically.
“Don’t overreact,” another added. “And don’t go quiet either. Just… be normal.”
Be normal.
He didn’t know what that meant anymore.
His chest tightened.
He stepped away before they could see the way his hands were shaking.
In the hallway, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.
He wasn’t scared of performing.
He wasn’t scared of dancing.
He was scared of confirming what they already believed.
That he was too emotional.
Too soft.
Too omega.
The stage manager called them to line up.
The bright set lights spilled into the hallway.
Laughter echoed from inside the studio.
Niki inhaled slowly, trying to steady himself.
Just smile.
Don’t mess up.
Don’t prove them right.
He stepped forward with the group, shoulders tense but posture straight.
And as the applause roared when they walked onto the set, Niki forced the brightest smile he could manage
Even though inside, he felt like he was shrinking smaller and smaller with every step.
The studio erupted in applause as AURUM walked out.
The hosts cheered. The MC clapped loudly. Cameras zoomed in one by one.
And suddenly
A hand was around Niki’s shoulder.
Another ruffled his hair.
“Here’s our youngest!” the leader laughed brightly, pulling Niki into his side. “He’s been working so hard lately!”
The audience let out an affectionate aww.
Niki’s smile locked into place automatically.
Warm arm around his waist.
Fingers squeezing his shoulder.
A playful nudge that brought him closer to center.
It looked natural. Easy. Loving.
Like they adored him.
Like they protected him.
Like he was cherished.
If someone only saw this moment, they’d think he was the most doted-on member in the industry.
He should have pulled away.
He wanted to.
He knew it was fake.
He knew the same hands gripping him now had shoved him in practice.
The same voices praising him now had called him fragile.
Too emotional.
Too omega.
But when the leader squeezed him gently and rested his chin briefly on Niki’s head for the camera
Niki froze.
Because it felt warm.
Because it felt like what he had wanted all along.
Real affection.
Even if it wasn’t real.
His body reacted before his mind could protest.
He leaned slightly into the side hug.
The crowd cheered louder.
“Look how cute he is!” one host laughed.
Another member pinched his cheek lightly. “He’s shy today.”
Niki let out a small, practiced giggle.
His shoulders softened.
And for one second — just one — he let himself pretend it wasn’t fake.
It had been weeks since anyone had touched him kindly without criticism attached.
Weeks since a hand on his shoulder didn’t mean correction.
Weeks since physical closeness wasn’t about adjusting him or pushinhim into place.
So even though he knew this was performance
His body betrayed him.
When the leader draped an arm around him again during a group segment, Niki instinctively leaned closer.
When another member rested a hand at his back while laughing, he didn’t move away.
When they squished his cheeks playfully for the camera
He smiled.
Bright. Cute. Soft.
Exactly the image they wanted.
The audience adored it.
“Such a lovable omega,” one of the hosts teased warmly.
The word didn’t sting this time.
Not in front of cameras.
Because here, it meant gentle. Endearing. Precious.
Not weak.
Not inconvenient.
Not a burden.
And that made it worse.
Because it proved they could treat him kindly.
They just chose not to when no one was watching.
They were seated closely on the couch.
The leader’s hand rested lightly on Niki’s knee, thumb tapping rhythmically in a way that looked affectionate on screen.
Niki felt heat crawl up his neck.
He hated that his body relaxed.
Hated that he felt safer with even fake closeness than with nothing at all.
He told himself:
Don’t lean in.
Don’t enjoy it.
It’s not real.
But when the leader laughed and nudged him again, Niki leaned into the contact automatically.
The audience squealed.
The MC grinned. “He really sticks close to you, huh?”
“Of course,” the leader replied smoothly. “He trusts us.”
Niki’s smile didn’t falter.
But something inside him twisted painfully.
Because he did.
He wanted to.
Even after everything.
And that made him feel foolish.
By the end of filming, Niki had played his role perfectly.
Cute youngest.
Affectionate omega.
Soft, shy, lovable.
The members had been all over him.
Arms slung around his shoulders. Hands in his hair. Gentle teasing.
It was convincing.
Too convincing.
As the cameras finally shut off and the applause faded
The hands dropped.
The warmth disappeared.
The space between them widened instantly.
No one touched him anymore.
No one looked at him.
The shift was immediate and cold.
Niki stood there for a second, feeling the sudden absence like a physical drop in temperature.
He hadn’t realized how tightly he’d been holding onto those brief moments of contact until they were gone.
He swallowed hard.
He hated that he missed it already.
Space opened up between them immediately.
No more arms slung around him.
No more playful nudges.
No more fond smiles.
Just distance.
They walked toward the waiting room in silence.
The door shut behind them.
And then
A scoff.
“You really leaned into that today.”
Niki froze.
One member crossed his arms. “The cute act was a bit much, don’t you think?”
“I didn’t—” Niki started softly.
“You were practically glued to him,” another said, tone sharp. “Don’t overdo it. It’s embarrassing.”
Niki’s chest tightened. “I just reacted—”
“Exactly,” the leader cut in flatly. “Control yourself. You don’t need to cling like that just because someone touches you.”
The word cling hit harder than it should have.
“I wasn’t clinging,” Niki whispered.
A dry laugh. “Sure looked like it. Acting all soft and shy. It’s fine for cameras, but don’t forget it’s fake.”
Fake.
Like their affection.
Like their smiles.
Like the way they’d pulled him close and called him cute.
Niki swallowed. “I thought… we were just doing what works.”
“We are,” the leader said coldly. “Just don’t forget your place.”
Silence fell.
Niki looked down at his hands, heat creeping up his neck.
He hadn’t meant to lean in.
He hadn’t meant to enjoy it.
But hearing them mock him for it made something inside him twist painfully.
He felt exposed.
Pathetic.
Like they’d seen exactly how starved he was for even pretend warmth.
The ride back was quiet.
Niki sat by the window, staring at the blurred city lights. His reflection looked smaller somehow.
His phone felt heavy in his hand.
He hesitated.
Then opened Jake’s chat.
His fingers trembled slightly as he typed.
Niki:
Filming went fine.
A moment.
Then another message.
They were really affectionate on camera.
A pause.
And then after they said I was embarrassing. That I cling too much.
The typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
Jake:
Hey. Slow down. Breathe. What happened exactly?
Niki’s vision blurred slightly.
They were all over me on camera. Hugging, touching, smiling. And I… I leaned into it. I couldn’t help it. And then afterward they told me not to cling like that. That it’s fake. That I should control myself.
The next message took a few seconds longer.
Jake:
You weren’t clinging. You reacted like a human being who wanted comfort.
Niki stared at that.
His throat tightened.
I hate that I liked it, he typed.
Even if it wasn’t real.
There was a longer pause this time.
Then
Jake:
Of course you liked it.
You’ve barely had anyone treat you gently lately.
That doesn’t make you weak. It makes you touch-starved.
Niki’s breath hitched slightly at the blunt honesty.
I feel stupid, he admitted.
They made it sound like I was desperate.
Jake:
You’re not desperate. You’re hurting.
That one broke him.
Tears slid down quietly as he stared at the screen.
The typing bubble appeared again.
Jake:
Do you want to come over?
Niki blinked.
Jake:
You don’t have to answer right away.
But if you don’t want to sit in that dorm tonight, you can come here. We’ll just watch something. Or not talk. Whatever you need.
Niki’s chest tightened painfully.
Would that be okay? he typed back.
I don’t want to be a burden.
The reply was immediate.
Jake:
You are not a burden.
You’re my friend.
And you deserve somewhere that feels real.
Niki pressed his lips together, trying to steady his breathing.
I feel really lost right now, he admitted quietly in text.
Like I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t.
A few seconds later—
Jake:
Then come somewhere you don’t have to question it.
Niki stared out the van window again.
The dorm suddenly felt suffocating.
The silence next to him felt sharp.
He typed slowly this time.
Okay.
A beat.
Can I come over?
Jake:
I’ll be waiting.
For the first time all evening, Niki’s shoulders dropped slightly.
He still felt vulnerable.
Still embarrassed.
Still aching.
But at least tonight, he wouldn’t have to pretend the warmth was real.
He’d have something that actually was.
The hallway outside Enhypen’s dorm felt too long.
Niki stood in front of the door for a few seconds, staring at it like it might bite him.
His heart wouldn’t slow down.
It wasn’t Jake he was nervous about.
It was the others.
Alphas.
His stomach twisted automatically.
Alphas who didn’t snap.
Didn’t shove.
Didn’t reduce him to something small.
He didn’t know how to exist around that.
Before he could overthink himself into leaving, the door opened.
Jake.
Relief washed over him so fast it almost made him dizzy.
“Hey,” Jake said softly.
Niki tried to smile. It came out small and fragile.
Jake stepped aside immediately. “Come in.”
The scent hit him first, warm, layered, lived-in. Not sharp. Not oppressive.
Still, Niki’s shoulders instinctively tightened.
The living room lights were on. Voices drifted from inside.
Jay looked up first. Then Jungwon. Then Heeseung. Sunghoon. Sunoo.
Five pairs of eyes.
Niki froze just inside the doorway.
Every instinct screamed: Be careful. Be smaller. Don’t mess up.
Jake noticed instantly.
“It’s okay,” he said quietly, not touching him yet, just standing close enough to be grounding. “You’re safe.”
Jay stood up first.
“Hey,” he said not loud, not sharp. Just normal. “You must be freezing. It’s cold out.”
Niki blinked.
That wasn’t what he expected.
Sunoo smiled gently from the couch. “We ordered food. Do you eat spicy? If not, we kept something mild.”
Niki’s brain lagged behind the kindness.
“They know you’re coming,” Jake added softly. “I told them.”
That made his stomach drop for a second.
“They know?” Niki asked quietly.
Heeseung nodded. “Only that you’ve had a rough day. That’s it.”
No judgment.
No smirks.
No comments about being dramatic.
Just information.
Niki swallowed hard.
“Oh.”
He stayed near the doorway at first, unsure where to stand.
Jungwon noticed and patted the couch lightly. “You can sit anywhere.”
No one grabbed him.
No one pulled him into position.
No one evaluated how close he stood.
Jake sat down first leaving space beside him.
Not forcing him to take it Just offering.
Niki moved slowly, like approaching something fragile. He sat down beside Jake, hands folded tightly in his lap.
His body was rigid.
Sunghoon tilted his head slightly. “You look exhausted.”
The observation was gentle.
Not accusatory.
Niki didn’t know how to respond to that.
“I’m fine,” he murmured automatically.
Jake’s shoulder brushed lightly against his.
“You don’t have to say that here.”
Something in Niki’s throat tightened dangerously.
Food arrived. The others chatted casually, purposefully keeping the conversation light variety show jokes, small complaints about their own schedules.
No one asked invasive questions.
No one pushed.
But Niki could feel how different this atmosphere was.
No tension crackling under the surface.
No waiting for him to mess up.
And somehow that made his chest ache worse.
Because he realized how used to fear he’d become.
When Jay passed him a drink, their fingers brushed briefly.
Niki flinched.
It was small barely noticeable. But Jake saw it. And so did Jay.
Jay immediately pulled his hand back gently. “Sorry,” he said calmly. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
No irritation.
No ego.
Just acknowledgment.
That did it.
Niki’s composure cracked.
His breathing hitched suddenly, like something inside him had snapped loose.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted, voice shaking. “I didn’t mean to I just—”
Jake turned fully toward him. “Hey. Hey. You don’t have to apologize.”
But Niki was already spiraling.
“I’m not trying to be weird,” he said quickly, eyes glossy. “I just- I don’t- I’m not used to”
His voice broke.
The room went very quiet.
Not tense.
Just attentive.
Jake moved closer, slowly this time, giving Niki space to lean in instead of pulling him.
“You’re safe here,” Jake repeated softly.
Niki shook his head, tears spilling now. “I don’t know how to act around alphas who aren’t-“ He stopped himself.
A heavy silence followed.
Jay’s expression shifted, not angry and Not defensive. Just understanding.
“You don’t have to finish that sentence,” Jay said quietly.
Sunoo scooted a little closer on the couch not touching, just being there. “No one here is going to push you.”
The words felt foreign.
Jake finally reached up slowly and rested his hand against the back of Niki’s shoulder.
Light.
Warm.
Grounding.
Niki folded into him almost instantly.
Not because he was performing.
Not because cameras were rolling.
But because he was tired.
So tired of bracing.
His face pressed against Jake’s shoulder, and he finally let himself cry, not silently this time and definitely Not controlled.
He just let himself cry
“I didn’t realize I was this scared,” he whispered.
Jake wrapped an arm around him firm but gentle.
“You don’t have to be scared here.”
The others didn’t stare.
Didn’t tease.
Didn’t comment on how he looked.
They just kept the space quiet.
Safe.
And slowly, very very slowly Niki’s body stopped shaking.
Niki didn’t remember deciding to relax.
One moment he was crying against Jake’s shoulder.
The next, his body just gave up.
Exhaustion dragged him under like a tide.
His breathing evened out slowly, fingers curling into the fabric of Jake’s hoodie as if afraid it would disappear. His face was tucked into the crook of Jake’s neck, warm and trusting in a way that made everyone in the room go quiet.
Jake felt the shift first.
“He’s asleep,” he murmured softly.
Niki had practically melted into him, legs tucked slightly toward Jake’s, shoulder pressed firmly against his chest. He looked younger like this. Smaller. The tension that usually lived in his face had finally smoothed away.
Sunoo’s expression softened instantly. “He must’ve been exhausted.”
“He said he hasn’t been sleeping much,” Jake replied quietly.
Jay frowned. “That’s not just ‘a rough day.’ That’s ongoing.”
Jake nodded once.
“He flinched when I brushed his hand,” Jay added, voice low.
The room stilled again.
Heeseung leaned back slowly. “That’s not normal.”
“No,” Jungwon agreed gently. “It’s not.”
Jake’s arm tightened slightly around Niki without him realizing.
Protective.
Instinctive.
He could feel how light Niki was against him. Too light. The way his body stayed curled even in sleep, like he was bracing for something.
“He’s been treated worse than he lets on,” Jake said quietly. “You can tell.”
Sunghoon’s jaw tightened. “I don’t understand how anyone could look at him and think being harsh is the answer.”
Sunoo glanced at Jake, then back at Niki. “He feels safe enough to fall asleep here. That says a lot.”
Jake swallowed.
He hadn’t expected that part to hit so hard.
Niki trusted him enough to sleep.
To let his guard down completely.
“He’s scared of alphas,” Jay said bluntly, but not unkindly.
Jake nodded. “Yeah.”
“And yet he still came here,” Jungwon added softly.
That made something warm bloom in Jake’s chest.
“He almost didn’t,” Jake admitted. “He stood outside for a while.”
Sunghoon looked genuinely upset. “That means he expected the worst.”
“Probably from experience,” Heeseung muttered.
The room fell quiet again.
There was a shared understanding there none of them liked what that implied.
Jake looked down at Niki.
His lashes were still damp from crying. His breathing was steady now, but every so often his fingers would twitch slightly in Jake’s hoodie like he was checking to make sure he was still there.
Jake adjusted his hold carefully, tucking him a little closer.
“Easy,” Sunoo teased softly. “You look like you’re guarding treasure.”
Jake huffed a quiet laugh but he didn’t deny it.
“I kind of am.”
The words slipped out before he could filter them.
Jay smirked lightly. “Possessive, huh?”
Jake rolled his eyes, but there was no embarrassment in it.
“It’s not like that,” he said. Then paused. “Well. Maybe a little.”
Not control Just instinct.
He felt it in a way he hadn’t expected that deep, pack-omega pull to protect something fragile. To shield. To keep close. Not because Niki was weak, but because someone had made him believe he was.
“He’s not leaving here tonight,” Jake added firmly.
No one argued.
“He shouldn’t,” Jungwon said. “He needs at least one place where he doesn’t have to perform.”
Sunoo smiled softly at Jake. “You did good.”
Jay nodded. “Seriously. You noticed. You stepped in.”
Jake looked down at Niki again.
“He deserves better than what he’s getting,” he said quietly.
He brushed his hand lightly through Niki’s hair slowly , careful and soothing.
Niki shifted in his sleep and instinctively burrowed closer.
Jake’s chest ached.
“I just want him to feel safe,” he admitted.
Heeseung smiled faintly. “Looks like he already does.”
As the others gradually drifted into quieter conversation, Jake stayed still.
He didn’t want to wake him.
Didn’t want to move.
Didn’t want to risk breaking whatever fragile sense of security Niki had found.
He could still feel the earlier tremble in his body. The way he’d apologized for flinching.
The way he’d said he didn’t know how to act around alphas.
Jake’s jaw tightened slightly.
No one should feel that way.
Especially not someone as soft and hardworking as Niki.
He adjusted the blanket Sunghoon had draped over them, keeping Niki tucked firmly against him.
Protective.
Grounded.
Steady.
for the first time all evening, Jake allowed himself to feel something close to pride.
Not in himself.
But in the fact that Niki had chosen to come here.
Chosen him.
“Sleep,” Jake whispered quietly against his hair.
Niki didn’t stir.
He just stayed curled safely against him.
Jake silently promised that as long as Niki needed a place to land, he would be there.
Niki woke slowly.
Warmth surrounded him.
Something solid beneath his cheek. A steady heartbeat under his ear.
For a few peaceful seconds, he didn’t remember where he was.
Then it came back in pieces, crying, Jake’s arms around him, the couch.
His eyes fluttered open.
He was still curled up against Jake.
One of Jake’s arms was wrapped securely around his waist, the other resting protectively over his shoulder. A blanket had been tucked around them at some point.
Niki froze.
Heat rushed to his face.
Oh no.
He started to pull away quickly too quickly.
Jake stirred immediately. “Hey,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. “Easy.”
“I’m sorry,” Niki blurted out, sitting up too fast. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep like that. I didn’t mean to”
Jake blinked up at him, confused. “Why are you apologizing?”
“I just- I shouldn’t have—”
“You were exhausted.”
Niki’s fingers twisted in the blanket. “I drooled, didn’t I?”
That made Jake huff out a soft laugh. “No. And even if you did, I wouldn’t care.”
Niki ducked his head, embarrassed.
The others were awake now too, not staring, just pretending to busy themselves in the living room to give him space.
Sunoo offered a gentle smile from the kitchen doorway. “Morning.”
Niki swallowed. “Morning…”
He felt awkward suddenly. Out of place.
Jake noticed.
“Come on,” he said softly, standing up and offering a hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Jake led him down the hallway quietly.
“You can use my bathroom,” he said. “There’s a spare toothbrush under the sink.”
Niki nodded, still feeling small.
Jake paused before stepping out. “Do you want something to change into?”
“I’m okay,” Niki started automatically then looked down at his wrinkled clothes from yesterday.
Jake raised an eyebrow gently.
“…Maybe,” Niki admitted.
Jake smiled. “Thought so.”
He disappeared into his room and came back with soft sweatpants and one of his oversized hoodies.
Niki’s breath caught a little.
It was clearly worn often. It smelled faintly like Jake, clean, warm, grounding.
“You don’t have to—” Niki began.
“I want to,” Jake said simply.
There was no teasing in it. No pressure.
Just quiet offering.
Niki took the clothes carefully.
When the bathroom door closed behind him, he leaned against it for a moment.
The mirror showed him pale and tired, but softer than yesterday.
He showered quickly, letting the warm water wash away the lingering anxiety in his muscles.
When he pulled on Jake’s hoodie afterward, it swallowed him whole.
The scent wrapped around him instantly.
His shoulders dropped without him realizing.
For once, smelling like someone else didn’t feel invasive.
It felt safe.
When Niki walked back into the living room, conversation paused for just a second.
Not in a bad way.
Just quiet acknowledgment.
Jay was at the stove.
“Perfect timing,” he said. “Breakfast is almost ready.”
Niki hesitated near the hallway, unsure where to stand.
Jake walked up beside him naturally not touching, just close enough to anchor.
“You can sit,” Jungwon said gently, gesturing to the table.
Niki obeyed quietly.
He was hyper-aware of himself, of wearing Jake’s clothes, of carrying Jake’s scent.
But instead of teasing, the others just exchanged subtle looks.
Sunghoon leaned back in his chair slightly. “That hoodie suits you.”
It wasn’t mocking.
It wasn’t loaded.
Just a statement.
Niki blinked. “…Thank you.”
Jay set a plate in front of him.
Not overly full.
Not small either.
Balanced.
“Eat slowly,” Jay said casually. “It’s hot.”
The tone wasn’t controlling.
It was careful.
Niki stared at the food for a moment.
He realized something strange.
No one was watching him critically.
No one was counting bites.
No one was commenting on portions.
They were just… talking.
Jake nudged his knee lightly under the table grounding him
“You don’t have to finish everything,” he murmured quietly so only Niki could hear. “Just try.”
The gentleness in that almost made Niki emotional again.
He took a small bite.
Then another.
The food felt warm in a way that didn’t twist his stomach with anxiety.
Across the table, Jay was pretending not to look pleased.
Sunoo definitely looked pleased.
Heeseung smiled faintly into his coffee.
Jake, though
Jake looked proud.
Not because Niki was eating.
But because he was trying.
They didn’t crowd him.
They didn’t overwhelm him.
But the care was there in small ways.
Sunoo passed him juice without making a fuss.
Jungwon adjusted the heater slightly when Niki rubbed his hands together.
Sunghoon offered a napkin before Niki even had to reach.
And Jake
Jake stayed close.
Not possessive in a suffocating way.
But steady.
Present.
When Niki shifted slightly in his chair, Jake’s arm brushed his lightly, a quiet reminder: You’re not alone.
For the first time in a long while, Niki didn’t feel like he had to shrink himself.
He still felt fragile.
Still tired.
Still uncertain about what would happen when he returned to his dorm.
But here
Wrapped in Jake’s hoodie.
Surrounded by alphas who weren’t sharp.
He felt… held.
And maybe, just maybe Safe enough to start breathing again.
They were halfway through breakfast when Niki’s phone buzzed.
Once.
Twice.
Then again.
The sound felt louder than it should have.
Niki’s shoulders immediately tensed.
Jake noticed before anyone else did.
“You don’t have to check it right away,” he said quietly.
But Niki already knew who it was.
He flipped the phone over slowly.
Leader:
Where are you?
Another message.
You didn’t come home.
Then
Manager asked this morning.
His stomach dropped.
There were more.
You didn’t even say anything.
What are you doing?
Niki’s chest tightened. The warmth of the kitchen suddenly felt fragile.
He stared at the screen too long.
Jake gently nudged his knee. “What did they say?”
Niki swallowed. “They noticed.”
Jay leaned back in his chair, expression darkening slightly. “Of course they did.”
“They’re asking where I am,” Niki murmured. “And why I didn’t come home.”
Sunoo frowned. “You’re allowed to stay at a friend’s place.”
Niki gave a weak smile. “They don’t really see it that way.”
Another buzz.
Answer.
His breathing started to thin.
Jake reached over and gently turned the phone face-down.
“Hey,” he said softly. “Look at me.”
Niki did.
“You don’t have to panic. You stayed with a friend. That’s it.”
Niki hesitated. “…I don’t want to go back yet.”
The words were barely audible.
But everyone heard them.
The room went very still.
Jake’s expression softened instantly.
“Then don’t,” he said.
Niki blinked.
“I mean it,” Jake continued. “If you need a few more hours, stay.”
Jay nodded once. “You look like you finally slept.”
Jungwon added gently, “Going back while you’re already anxious won’t help.”
Niki’s fingers twisted in the sleeves of Jake’s hoodie.
“I just… every time I go back, I feel small again,” he admitted quietly. “Like I have to shrink.”
Jake’s jaw tightened subtly.
“You don’t shrink here,” he said firmly.
That almost made Niki cry again.
Another buzz.
This time the message preview lit the screen.
Did you seriously stay out all night?
Niki flinched at the tone even without opening it.
Jake exhaled slowly.
“I’ll drive you back,” he said after a moment.
Niki looked up quickly. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to.”
Jay stood as well. “I’ll come.”
Jake glanced at him, then nodded.
The car ride felt too short.
Niki sat in the backseat, hands buried in the sleeves of Jake’s hoodie, heart pounding harder the closer they got.
Jake kept glancing at him in the rearview mirror.
“You don’t have to rush inside,” he said gently. “We’ll walk you up.”
Niki swallowed. “They’re going to notice.”
“Notice what?” Jay asked calmly.
Niki hesitated.
“…That I smell different.”
The car fell quiet.
Jake’s fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel.
It wasn’t shame Niki felt.
It was fear.
Fear of what that would trigger.
Jay’s voice was steady. “If they comment, that’s on them. Not you.”
The car pulled up outside Niki’s dorm.
For a moment, no one moved.
Niki stared at the building like it was something he had to brace against.
Jake turned in his seat. “Hey.”
Niki met his eyes.
“You can text me the second you get upstairs.”
Niki nodded.
Jay added quietly, “And if they say anything out of line, you leave. Call us.”
The word us settled in Niki’s chest in a strange, warm way.
He wasn’t alone.
Even if he had to walk in there by himself.
Jake stepped out first.
Jay followed.
They didn’t crowd him just flanked him casually as they walked to the entrance.
Supportive.
Visible.
When they reached the door, Niki hesitated.
Jake adjusted the sleeve of the hoodie gently. “You’ve got this.”
For a split second, instinct made Jake step closer subtle, protective.
Not aggressive. Just grounding.
Niki nodded once and went inside.
The dorm was quiet at first.
Too quiet.
Then the leader stepped into the hallway.
His eyes landed on Niki.
And narrowed slightly.
“You’re back.”
Niki nodded.
The leader stepped closer.
Too close.
And then
He paused.
His expression shifted.
“What is that?”
Niki’s stomach dropped.
Another member appeared from the kitchen. Then another.
The air changed.
Sharp.
“You smell like another pack.”
It wasn’t a question.
It was an accusation.
Niki instinctively tugged at the hoodie sleeves.
“I stayed at a friend’s place,” he said carefully.
“A friend,” one of them repeated flatly.
The leader stepped closer again, jaw tight. “You smell like them.”
There was something possessive in the way he said it.
Not caring.
Controlling.
Niki’s heart pounded.
“It’s just a hoodie,” he said quietly.
“Take it off.”
The command was immediate.
Niki froze.
His fingers tightened in the fabric instead.
“I’ll wash it and return it,” he said softly. “It’s not a big deal.”
The leader’s expression darkened.
“It is when you come back carrying someone else’s scent like that.”
The words felt suffocating.
Like he’d done something wrong.
Like seeking comfort was betrayal.
Niki felt the warmth from that morning start to drain away.
But this time
He didn’t shrink.
He swallowed, steadying himself.
“I’m allowed to have friends,” he said quietly.
The room fell silent.
No one expected that.
His heart was racing.
His palms were sweaty.
But he held his ground.
“It’s just a hoodie.”
The leader stared at him for a long moment.
Then scoffed.
“Do whatever you want,” he muttered, stepping back. “Just don’t forget where you belong.”
The words were meant to cut.
They did.
But not as deep as before.
Because for the first time
Niki knew there was somewhere else he could go.
Somewhere he didn’t have to belong by shrinking.
He walked past them toward his room.
Closed the door.
And immediately pulled out his phone.
Niki:
I’m upstairs.
A second later
Jake:
You okay?
Niki looked down at the sleeves of the hoodie.
Still warm.
Still faintly comforting.
He typed slowly.
They noticed the scent.
A pause.
But I didn’t take it off.
Three dots appeared almost instantly.
Jake:
Good.
Niki stared at that one word for a long time.
for once He didn’t feel completely alone in that dorm.
At first, it was once a week.
An excuse after practice.
“ I’m grabbing food with a friend”
Then it became twice.
Then it became something unspoken.
If Niki had a rough day, he didn’t hesitate as long anymore.
He’d stand outside Enhypen’s dorm for a second not in fear this time, but anticipation.
And the door would open before he even knocked.
Jake always seemed to know.
The first few visits, Niki still sat a little stiff around the alphas.
He watched their hands.
Tracked their movements.
Flinched less, but still sometimes.
But they never reacted sharply.
If he startled, they softened.
If he went quiet, they didn’t pry.
They just let him exist.
It was Jay who surprised him the most.
Jay was blunt. Observant. Quietly protective in a way that didn’t demand attention.
One night, Niki was sitting on the floor watching them argue about takeout when Jay dropped down beside him.
“You don’t have to sit by the door anymore,” Jay said casually.
Niki blinked. “…I wasn’t.”
Jay raised an eyebrow. “You always do.”
Niki glanced behind him.
He hadn’t even realized.
Closest to the exit.
Jay didn’t tease him for it.
He just nudged a pillow toward him. “Sit properly. You look like you’re ready to bolt.”
It wasn’t mocking.
It was being aware.
Niki hesitated then shifted closer to the middle of the room.
Closer to them.
Jay didn’t say anything more.
But a few minutes later, when someone reached across too quickly, Jay subtly blocked the motion so it wouldn’t startle Niki.
Small.
Unspoken.
Protective.
After that, Niki found himself relaxing around Jay more easily.
Jay didn’t baby him.
Didn’t overly dote.
But he noticed things.
Like when Niki was spacing out.
Like when he hadn’t eaten enough.
Like when his hands were shaking slightly.
“Eat,” Jay would say simply, sliding food closer.
Not sharp.
Just firm.
And Niki would.
Because it didn’t feel like control.
It felt like care.
Jake started giving him clothes without making it a big deal.
A hoodie left folded beside him.
Sweatpants tossed lightly his way.
“You’ll be more comfortable,” Jake would say.
And Niki would take them.
At first, he hesitated bringing them back.
But the first time he did, the first time he walked into his dorm wearing Jake’s hoodie again he felt something different.
Not fear.
Defiance.
The leader noticed immediately.
“You’re wearing that again.”
Niki didn’t look down this time.
“Yeah.”
A pause.
“You really like smelling like another pack?”
The comment was meant to provoke.
Niki shrugged slightly. “I like being comfortable.”
The lack of reaction threw them off.
Another member scoffed. “You’re getting bold.”
Niki met his gaze calmly.
“Maybe.”
And he walked past them.
Heart pounding but steady.
In his room, he pressed his face briefly into the sleeve.
Not because he needed to hide.
But because he could.
The more time Niki spent with Jake and the others, the more he started to unlearn things.
Alphas didn’t have to loom.
Didn’t have to criticize to “motivate.”
Didn’t have to grip too hard.
Jay sparred with him verbally sometimes, playful, challenging but it never crossed a line.
Sunghoon would quietly offer him various drinks and snacks
Heeseung would ask his opinion on choreography points and actually listen.
Jungwon would check in with a simple, “You good?”
And Jake
Jake stayed steady.
Not hovering.
But always near enough.
One evening, Niki was laughing, really laughing at something Sunoo said when he realized something strange.
His chest didn’t hurt.
He wasn’t waiting for the joke to turn on him.
He wasn’t bracing.
Jay noticed the realization flicker across his face.
“You look confused,” Jay commented dryly.
Niki blinked. “I just forgot to be careful.”
Jay held his gaze for a moment.
“Good,” he said simply.
The tension in his own dorm didn’t disappear.
But it shifted.
Because Niki shifted.
When they made comments now about him going out, about the scent, about him “acting different” he didn’t crumble the same way.
“You’re always with them lately.”
“They’re my friends.”
“You’re an omega. You shouldn’t just-”
“I can decide who I spend time with.”
The firmness in his voice surprised even him.
The leader’s jaw tightened.
“You’re changing.”
Niki tilted his head slightly.
“Yeah.”
for once He didn’t mean it like an apology.
One night, after Niki had stayed late again, Jay walked him downstairs to wait for Jake.
“You look healthier,” Jay said abruptly.
Niki blinked. “What?”
“You’re sleeping more.”
It wasn’t a question.
Niki hesitated then nodded slightly.
Jay studied him for a second.
“If anyone gives you trouble,” he said calmly, “you don’t handle it alone.”
Niki searched his expression.
There was no pity there.
Just solidarity.
“…Okay,” Niki said softly.
When Jake’s car pulled up, Jay gave him a brief look.
Not territorial.
Just protective.
Jake gave one back.
Understanding.
And Niki, standing between them felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Not trapped.
Not small.
Not owned.
He felt Supported.
Comeback season always changed the air in the dorm.
Everything became sharper.
Schedules stacked.
Sleep shortened.
Tempers thinned.
Niki felt it immediately.
He’d grown his hair out over the last few months slowly, stubbornly. It brushed his shoulders now, soft and slightly layered. For the comeback, it had been dyed a cool silver-lavender tone that shimmered under stage lights.
Fans loved it.
Stylists loved it.
His members definitely had opinions.
“You look different,” one of them said during the first concept fitting.
Niki met his reflection in the mirror.
Different wasn’t bad.
“I like it,” he replied quietly.
A scoff came from behind him. “It makes you look more omega.”
The comment lingered in the air like smoke.
Niki’s jaw tightened slightly.
“And?” he asked.
Silence.
No one expected pushback anymore not like this.
The leader glanced at him through the mirror but didn’t push further.
Still, the tension settled into Niki’s shoulders.
Comeback season meant long practices.
Longer rehearsals.
More chances for irritation to spill over.
And Niki with his longer hair, softer look, quieter confidence seemed to unsettle them more than before.
Two nights later, after a brutal choreography run-through, Niki found himself outside Enhypen’s dorm again.
He didn’t hesitate this time.
The door opened, and Jake’s face lit up immediately.
“Oh.”
It wasn’t dramatic.
Just warm.
“You dyed it brighter,” Jake said, reaching out instinctively before stopping himself. “Can I?”
Niki nodded.
Jake’s fingers brushed gently through the ends of his hair.
It wasn’t possessive.
Just curious.
“Okay,” Jay said from behind him, walking into the hallway. “That suits you way too much.”
Niki blinked. “Is that a bad thing?”
“It means fans are going to lose their minds,” Jay replied dryly.
Sunoo appeared next and immediately gasped.
“Oh my god.”
Niki stiffened automatically.
But Sunoo’s eyes were sparkling.
“You look adorable.”
Niki’s face warmed instantly.
“I do not.”
“You absolutely do,” Sunoo insisted, already circling him lightly. “It’s soft. And it makes your features stand out.”
Sunghoon leaned against the wall. “It frames his face better.”
Heeseung nodded in agreement. “It makes you look older, actually. But softer.”
The contrast made Niki’s chest ache in a confusing way.
No mockery.
No edge.
Just appreciation.
“You’re all staring,” he mumbled.
“Because you look good,” Jake said simply.
Later, they were sprawled in the living room music playing softly in the background.
Sunoo had been eyeing Niki’s hair for a solid ten minutes.
Finally, he couldn’t hold back.
“Can I braid it?”
Niki blinked. “What?”
“Just a small one,” Sunoo said, already moving closer. “It’ll look cute.”
Niki hesitated.
Touch still made him pause sometimes.
But Sunoo’s hands were always gentle.
Always careful.
“…Okay,” Niki said softly.
Sunoo’s face lit up like he’d won something.
He sat behind Niki on the couch, fingers sliding carefully into his hair.
The first brush of contact made Niki’s shoulders tense.
Sunoo noticed instantly.
“Too much?” he asked quietly.
Niki swallowed.
“No… it’s okay.”
And it was.
Sunoo’s touch was slow. Deliberate. He separated strands carefully, never tugging too hard.
It was different from stylists who rushed.
Different from hands that gripped too firmly.
It felt soothing.
Jake watched from across the couch, smiling faintly.
Jay leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “He looks like a doll.”
Niki huffed lightly. “I’m not a doll.”
“You kind of are right now,” Jay teased.
But there was no cruelty in it.
Just affection.
Sunoo finished the small braid along the side of Niki’s head and tied it off gently.
“There,” he said proudly.
Niki reached up cautiously, fingers brushing over the braid.
He smiled without meaning to.
“I like it,” he admitted.
Jake’s expression softened.
“You should wear it like that for practice one day.”
Niki snorted. “My members would lose it.”
The room quieted slightly at that.
Jay’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
Sunoo’s hands rested lightly on Niki’s shoulders for a moment longer than necessary.
“Well,” Sunoo said softly, “you look really pretty.”
Niki stilled.
Pretty.
Not weak.
Not too omega.
Not soft in a mocking way.
Just… pretty.
His throat tightened unexpectedly.
“Thanks,” he whispered.
Jake shifted closer nudging their knees together lightly.
“Comeback’s going to be huge for you,” he said.
Niki glanced around the room.
At the relaxed postures.
At the warmth.
At the way no one here seemed threatened by him growing into himself.
“Maybe,” he said quietly.
for once He believed it.
Niki sat cross-legged on the couch, the small braid Sunoo had done the night before still in place. Jake leaned back beside him, scrolling through music clips on his phone, occasionally nudging Niki’s shoulder or brushing a loose strand of hair from his face.
The morning sunlight spilled through the windows, warm against Niki’s silver-lavender hair. He felt… safe. Really safe.
Sunoo, who had been quietly tidying the room, finally sat behind him again. “Can I redo the braid? Make it a little tighter so it doesn’t fall?”
Niki nodded, his hands resting lightly in his lap. Sunoo’s fingers moved slowly and deliberately, tangling the strands carefully. The touch made Niki’s shoulders loosen even more than yesterday. It wasn’t demanding, not abrupt. Just soft, soothing.
“See? Doesn’t it feel nice when someone’s careful?” Sunoo murmured.
Niki smiled softly. “Yeah… I like it.”
Jake glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You deserve this. All of it.”
Niki’s chest warmed at the words. He had spent months bracing himself for harshness, for criticism, for scolding touches. But here the gentle attention, the respect in how the alphas around him handled him, it felt… like home.
Sunoo finished the braid and tied it gently. “There. Perfect.”
Niki lifted a hand to touch it lightly, careful not to mess it up. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Jake’s arm brushed against his knee under the couch. “You’re welcome,” he said quietly.
For a moment, everything was calm. Everything was good.
Later, Niki returned to his own dorm for practice. He was still wearing Jake’s oversized hoodie, a little baggy, the scent faintly lingering.
The moment his leader saw it, his expression hardened.
“You’re wearing that again?” the leader asked sharply.
Niki looked down at the sleeves. “Yeah.”
“You smell like someone else,” another member said flatly.
Niki shrugged, calm but defiant. “I like being comfortable.”
A scoff. “You’re getting bold. Acting like you can do whatever you want.”
“I can,” Niki said quietly. And he walked past them toward his room.
His shoulders were still tense, but he felt lighter than he had in months. He didn’t need their approval. Not anymore.
But the tension didn’t stay private.
One staff member, noticing how cold the group’s behavior had been toward Niki during practice, posted a short clip online showing a particularly rough adjustment during rehearsal, a shove, a sharp word, a sneer, all directed at Niki.
Fans immediately noticed. Comments exploded:
“This doesn’t look okay…”
“Why are they so harsh to him?”
“Is Niki being bullied??”
Old clips were dug up: moments from earlier practices and interviews where the group had made offhand jokes at Niki’s expense, pushed him, or ignored him. The debate grew quickly. Fans who had thought of the group as perfect were shocked, and allegations of mistreatment started trending across social media.
Niki, sitting in his room in Jake’s hoodie, saw the posts and froze. Heart pounding, stomach twisting. Some fans were protective. Others were angry. The sheer volume of attention made him feel both exposed and… relieved.
Relieved that finally, someone else might see what he had felt for months.
Jake texted immediately:
Jake: Are you okay? Don’t go through this alone.
Niki: I… I don’t know. Everyone is posting. Commenting. And they found old clips…
Jake: I know. I see it. Just breathe. You’re safe. You’re with me. That’s what matters right now.
Niki exhaled slowly, curling up into the hoodie, the braid brushing his neck. He didn’t feel entirely okay, but he felt anchored.
Someone finally saw the truth of what he’d lived through
The social media storm wasn’t subtle. Within hours, clips from rehearsals, backstage footage, and old interviews were circulating, with captions like “Is Niki being mistreated?” and “Fans call out rough behavior during practice.”
At first, Niki felt frozen. His dorm felt suffocating. Every corner, every word from his own members now carried extra weight.
“Did you see this?” one member hissed when he walked past. “They’re blowing everything out of proportion.”
Niki didn’t respond. He didn’t want to argue. The hoodie he’d borrowed from Jake smelled faintly of safety, and he clung to that small grounding.
The manager called him into a quiet meeting. “We’ll handle the public side,” they said gently. “You don’t need to respond to comments. Just focus on yourself.”
Niki nodded, but inside, he felt a mixture of fear and relief. Finally, someone sees it.
When Niki visited enhypen again, there was no judgment. No scrutinizing eyes. Just quiet concern and care.
Sunoo fussed over his hair while Jay checked in on his mood. Jake sat close, always alert, always protective, the hoodie still wrapped around Niki’s smaller frame.
“He’s safe here,” Jay said quietly one evening, glancing at the two of them curled up on the couch. “And he knows it.”
Niki relaxed into the hoodie, letting himself absorb the calm for the first time in months.
Back in his own group, the scandal had stirred a mess of reactions. Some members were defensive:
“This is ridiculous,” the leader snapped. “They’re twisting things.”
Others were uncomfortable, glancing at Niki nervously. “Maybe we should, I don’t know handle this better,” one muttered.
Niki had started to feel less intimidated. Every time he wore Jake’s hoodie, every time he talked openly about where he’d been or how he was supported, the tension in the dorm shifted slightly. He didn’t need to cower or apologize for seeking safety.
“You’re getting bold,” one member said the next day, scowling.
“I’m allowed to take care of myself,” Niki replied quietly, tugging the hoodie closer.
The words carried weight now. They weren’t just words they were boundaries.
Weeks later, Enhypen was invited to a popular radio show to promote their comeback.
The hosts were teasing, playful, and at one point, the conversation turned to dynamics within the group.
“So Jake,” one asked, smiling. “Being the only omega in the group must be interesting. Does it change how you interact with the other members? Do you have any other omega friends?”
Jake’s expression softened instantly.
“Yeah,” Jake said calmly, clear and sincere. “I have Niki. We’ve been really close for a while. I make sure he’s okay, that he’s safe, and we look out for each other. The other members know it too. It’s really important to me that he feels supported because he’s amazing, and he deserves it.”
The room quieted for just a moment then the hosts smiled broadly. “That’s really sweet!”
Fans online immediately picked up on it. Tweets, comments, fan messages the public exploded with affection for the duo.
“Jake and Niki are goals 😭❤️”
“I’m so glad Niki has someone to care about him like that!”
“The bullying scandal is awful, but at least Niki isn’t alone 😭”
It was a quiet evening after practice.
Niki and Jake were sprawled on the couch at Jake’s place, the soft glow of the lamp casting golden light over them. Niki’s head rested on Jake’s shoulder, hair braided loosely from earlier by Sunoo, and Jake’s arm was draped protectively around him.
Without overthinking, Jake pulled out his phone.
“Let’s take a quick photo,” he said softly. “For memories, you know?”
Niki blinked but smiled faintly. “…Okay.”
Jake snapped it quickly, capturing the small, perfect moment: Niki nestled into Jake, eyes half-closed in comfort, a faint smile on his lips. Jake leaned his head slightly toward him, arm still wrapped around, the image radiating calm and safety.
Jake uploaded it to social media. Simple caption:
“Safe place. 🖤 #friendship #comfort”
The response was immediate.
Likes and shares exploded. Comments poured in faster than either of them could scroll:
“THIS IS TOO CUTE 😭❤️”
“Niki finally has someone to look out for him!”
“Jake is literally the best for him omg!!”
“Look at them. So soft. So adorable.”
“This is friendship goals, we stan 💖”
Fans were dissecting every detail, the braid, the hoodie, the way Niki rested comfortably on Jake. Every movement was adored. Every small smile celebrated.
Niki didn’t feel anxious about attention. He felt proud. Happy. Safe.
Jake glanced at him, smiling softly. “See? People get it. They see how good you are, how cared for.”
Niki let out a soft laugh, burying his face a little more into Jake’s shoulder. “Yeah… it feels nice.”
Not everyone was pleased.
In Niki’s group dorm, a member had noticed the post almost immediately. The timing was… unfortunate for them. Their own group was still under investigation for mistreatment, rehearsals being scrutinized by staff, and suddenly Niki was doing well, thriving, getting public adoration.
“You’re seeing this?” one muttered, voice low but sharp. “He’s… doing fine. Like, really good. And we’re still stuck dealing with this mess?”
The leader scowled. “It’s… irritating. He’s making us look bad.”
Another member shook their head. “He looks happy. Like, really happy. Smiling. Cuddled up with Jake.”
The words hit harder than expected. Niki had always been seen as fragile, weak, something to manage. And now, here he was, safe, confident, adored.
The tension simmered. The resentment wasn’t loud not yet but it was there, lurking beneath the surface.
Meanwhile, Jake noticed Niki stiffen slightly when he glanced at the notifications.
“Don’t worry about them,” Jake murmured, fingers brushing softly through Niki’s hair. “This is our space. They can’t touch it.”
Niki exhaled slowly, curling closer. “I know… I just… it’s weird, seeing them react like that.”
Jake chuckled softly. “Let them stew. You’re doing what’s right for you. And honestly? I wouldn’t want anyone taking your peace anyway.”
Niki smiled, the warmth in his chest spreading. “Yeah… you’re right.”
And in that moment, surrounded by soft light, the braid brushing his neck, and the hoodie smelling faintly of Jake, Niki realized something simple but profound: for the first time in a long time, he could just be.
Safe. Cared for. Appreciated.
And that… was everything.
Niki stepped into the company building, pulling the oversized hoodie closer around him. It wasn’t Jake’s this time it belonged to Jay. The hoodie was soft, familiar, and faintly carried the scent of another alpha: sharp, grounding, subtly commanding.
He had hoped it wouldn’t matter. He just wanted comfort during a long day of schedules, rehearsals, and photoshoots.
But as soon as his own members spotted him, everything shifted.
The leader froze for a fraction of a second, nostrils flaring slightly. “What is that… smell?” he hissed under his breath.
Another member stepped forward, frowning, eyes narrowing as the scent hit him full force. “You… you’re wearing one of their hoodies?”
“Do you have no sense?” the leader snapped, stepping closer. “Do you think we won’t notice?”
Niki’s stomach twisted. The scent that made him feel safe Jay’s alpha presence, subtle and grounding was now the reason he felt exposed and dangerous in his own dorm.
“I… it’s just a hoodie,” Niki murmured, voice small, trying to shrink in on himself.
“You always have to show off, don’t you?” another member hissed. The alpha scent made his words sharper, more possessive. “Acting like you can do whatever you want!”
The room felt like it was closing in on him.
One of his members reached toward him, hand twitching like they were going to grab the hoodie or his shoulder, Niki couldn’t tell. The alpha scent combined with the aggressive movement triggered every instinct in him.
He flinched violently, recoiling against the wall, arms wrapping around himself. His hoodie swallowed him whole, hiding his face as he tried to make himself disappear.
“I… please stop,” he whispered, voice shaking, knees bending slightly so he could shrink further.
Staff nearby had stopped, unsure whether to intervene. Their eyes widened as they saw Niki’s small frame shrinking under the force of his own members’ anger.
“This is… fine,” the leader muttered sharply, not backing down. “He needs to learn.”
Niki pressed himself further into the wall, clinging to the hoodie like a lifeline. Every inhalation brought the scent of another alpha sharp, intoxicating, safe in some ways, and yet the reason he felt attacked here.
He felt trapped, exposed. Panic clawed at his chest.
Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He stumbled backward, trying to escape, pressing his face further into the hoodie. “I… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean anything!” he whispered.
“I-I’m not doing anything wrong…” he whispered.
The next shove a sharp tap on the shoulder, meant to intimidate triggered it fully. His heart skyrocketed, breath shallow and rapid. His vision blurred. Hands shaking uncontrollably, Niki dropped to the floor, curling into himself, hoodie pressed against his face, whimpering.
“I… I can’t… I’m sorry… please…”
The panic attack clawed at him, pulling him under. His chest heaved. Tears burned his eyes.
Staff cautiously stepped closer, keeping distance but clearly concerned. One assistant muttered, “He’s terrified…”
Niki’s heartbeat pounded in his ears. All he wanted was the safety he had learned to find elsewhere.
All he wanted was to be away from this anger.
All he wanted was Jake.
one staff member careless, or maybe cruelly curious filmed it. Within hours, the clip was online.
Fans erupted. The sight of Niki, curled up and terrified, surrounded by his own members’ anger and tension, ignited outrage.
Hashtags appeared within the hour:
#ProtectNiki
#StopBullyingIdols
#KeepNikiSafe
Fans dug up old clips, interviews, rehearsal footage. The pattern of mistreatment, once subtle and private, became undeniable. Boycotts of the group’s promotions and merchandise started trending, while posts supporting Niki flooded social media.
“How is this allowed?!”
“He doesn’t deserve this!”
“The company has to do something!”
Niki could barely speak when the manager finally reached him. “Niki… breathe. We’re here. You’re safe,” they said gently.
“I… please…” he whimpered, voice trembling. “Take me… somewhere else… anywhere but here…”
The hoodie was drenched in sweat, his hair stuck to his face, and he pressed further into himself.
The manager knelt beside him, firm but gentle. “We will. You’re not going back there right now. Not until you’re ready.”
Niki’s small nod was almost imperceptible. He was shaking so hard he could barely hold the words:
“Please… don’t let them touch me… not anymore…”
And for the first time in months, someone outside his group listened truly listened without judgment or scolding.
The staff carefully helped him up, wrapping a blanket around him. Niki stayed quiet, hoodie pulled tight, eyes wide and fearful. Every footstep, every whisper of his members’ voices in the background made him flinch.
He kept muttering, barely above a whisper: “I… I just… I just want to be safe, please take me to enhypens dorm”
Outside, the public outcry continued. Every post, every hashtag, every fan tweet gave him the smallest sense of reassurance. He wasn’t invisible. Someone saw what was happening. Someone cared.
The car ride was quiet, tense Niki sitting in the backseat, hoodie pulled over his head, hands gripping the fabric like a lifeline. His breath still came in sharp, uneven bursts from the panic attack.
The moment they arrived at Jake’s place, Jake opened the car door and immediately guided Niki inside. He helped him sit on the couch, then sank beside him, wrapping both arms tightly around him.
“Shh… it’s okay,” Jake whispered, pressing Niki gently against his chest. “I’ve got you. You’re safe here. Nobody can hurt you here.”
Niki buried his face in Jake’s shoulder, shivering. “I… I just… I can’t…” His voice cracked. “I don’t… I don’t want to be back there…”
“I know,” Jake murmured, stroking the back of his head slowly, hands firm but gentle. “You don’t have to go back. Not today. Not ever if you don’t want to. Just breathe, okay? Just let it out.”
Niki trembled against him, hugging Jake’s arm around himself, letting himself finally feel the safety he’d been craving for months. His panic slowly started to ebb, replaced with exhaustion and the faintest warmth of comfort.
Meanwhile, back at the company, the manager had gathered the other members of Niki’s group. The tension in the room was palpable.
“Enough,” the manager said firmly, hands on their hips. “We’ve seen what’s happening, and it stops now.”
The leader opened his mouth defensively. “We didn’t”
“No,” the manager cut him off. “I don’t want excuses. You’ve been putting Niki in situations where he feels unsafe. Staff witnessed it. There are recordings. Social media is trending against the group. This is serious.”
One member shifted uncomfortably. “It wasn’t”
“Stop minimizing it!” the manager snapped. “He’s terrified of being around you. That’s not acceptable. You don’t get to make him feel small or punished. You are responsible for ensuring he can work without fear, and right now, you are failing. All of you.”
A heavy silence fell over the room.
“You will apologize. You will participate in training on appropriate behavior, boundaries, and mental health awareness. And you will support him moving forward. No more intimidation. No more targeting him over clothing, scents, or anything else.”
The leader’s jaw tightened, and the others shifted, clearly uncomfortable, but the manager didn’t relent.
“Do you understand?”
“Y-yes,” the group muttered reluctantly.
“Good,” the manager said. “And if we see this behavior again, there will be consequences. Not just warnings. Real consequences. Niki’s safety comes first, and that is non-negotiable.”
Meanwhile, Niki rested against Jake, finally letting his body relax a little.
“You’re okay,” Jake whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “You’re safe now. Nobody can hurt you here. Not your members, not anyone. Just me, okay?”
Niki nodded weakly, still trembling slightly. “Okay…”
Jake wrapped him closer, arms strong and protective. “You don’t have to be brave all the time. I’ve got you.”
Niki let out a shaky sigh, finally allowing himself to believe it that someone genuinely cared for his safety, and that for the first time in months, he could rest without fear.
The Company Statement
The next morning, the company released an official statement.
“We are aware of recent social media discussions regarding our group. The well-being of our artists is our top priority. We are taking the concerns seriously and will be implementing measures to ensure a safe and supportive environment for all members. Moving forward, the group will participate in training regarding mental health, workplace conduct, and respecting boundaries.”
The statement continued:
“Additionally, Niki will be on a temporary hiatus to focus on rest, recovery, and personal well-being. We ask for fans’ understanding and support during this time.”
The public response was immediate. Support poured in for Niki, with hashtags like #ProtectNiki and #SafeSpace trending, while calls for accountability regarding the group dominated fan discussions.
Niki, seeing the message from Jake first thing in the morning, let out a shaky but relieved laugh.
“See? You’re officially off the hook for now,” Jake teased softly.
Niki pressed his face into Jake’s shoulder. “I… I just want to rest. I don’t want to think about them.”
“You don’t have to,” Jake murmured. “We’ve got you.”
During his hiatus, Niki spent nearly all his time with Jake and the other Enhypen members. The environment was calm, safe, and consistent something he hadn’t experienced in months.
Sunoo often fussed over his hair or hands, quietly helping him with little things he hadn’t realized he’d missed. Jay would sit beside him during practice, offering corrections and guidance, but never harshly, never with judgment.
Even Jungwon and Heeseung, who had been quieter around him at first, began opening up talking with him about choreography, helping him adjust moves, or just sitting beside him while he rested.
Niki gradually let himself lean on them more. At first, it was just his head on Jay’s shoulder while reviewing choreography videos. Then it was small touches hands brushing, elbows leaning against him.
One evening, after a long day of rehearsal and light practice, Niki found himself curled up on the couch with Jake.
Sunoo plopped down beside him, lightly nudging his shoulder. “You look like you could fall asleep,” he teased softly.
Niki blinked and realized he was exhausted. Before he knew it, his head had drifted toward Sunoo’s shoulder, the braid brushing lightly across Sunoo’s chest.
Jake chuckled softly and wrapped an arm around both of them, pulling Niki closer. “Looks like you found a comfy spot,” he said, voice low and protective.
For the first time, Niki felt completely at ease with multiple alphas around him not threatened, not tense, not bracing for criticism. He let himself be small, let himself be cared for, and even started to enjoy the warmth of being physically close to them.
Sunoo stroked lightly through his braid. Jay rested a hand on his back. Jungwon adjusted a cushion behind him to keep him comfortable.
Niki sighed softly, letting his eyelids grow heavy. “I… I like this,” he murmured, voice muffled against Sunoo’s shoulder.
“You’re allowed to,” Jake said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “You deserve it.”
And as he drifted off to sleep, wrapped in warmth and safety, Niki realized something important: for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel afraid. He didn’t feel small.
He felt… cared for.
And that was more than enough.
After spending more time with Jake and the other alphas, Niki slowly began to bring himself out of the constant fear he had lived with. One small change became a new habit: wearing their clothes.
It started with Jake’s hoodies, soft and grounding. But soon, Niki found himself in Jay’s oversized sweatshirts, Sunoo’s cozy jackets, and even Jungwon’s casual tees. Every time he slipped into them, it felt like he was carrying a piece of their care, their presence, their reassurance with him.
Sometimes he caught himself smiling faintly at how comfortable it made him feel. The alphas never commented with judgment. In fact, they seemed to delight quietly in seeing him cozy and relaxed.
One quiet afternoon after a light practice, Niki had dozed off, nestled into Jake’s chest, hair brushing against Sunoo’s shoulder. He was wrapped in a combination of oversized hoodies from Jake and Jay, soft sweatpants from Sunoo, and a blanket tossed over him.
Sunoo, quietly amused, nudged Jay. “Look at him… he’s like a little cloud of cozy.”
Jay smiled softly and pulled out his phone. “This is going online.”
Carefully, he snapped a photo: Niki completely bundled up in their clothes, curled up against Jake, peacefully asleep. There was a glow to the scene soft lighting, gentle touches, calm expressions.
Jay uploaded the photo with a simple caption:
“Safe and cozy. Niki’s got a place with us 💖 #friendship #care #practicewithus”
Within minutes, fans were reacting. Comments flooded in:
“I’m crying, they look so adorable 😭❤️”
“He finally has people who actually care about him!”
“I can’t believe how peaceful he looks, surrounded by them 💖”
“Friendship goals! I love seeing him happy!”
The buzz grew even faster when Jay tagged the post with the Enhypen members’ schedules, subtly showing that Niki was with them during practices, rehearsals, and downtime, even though he wasn’t officially part of the group.
“He gets to spend all this time with them? That’s so wholesome!”
“Niki finally has a safe space and people who actually love him!”
“The way he’s bundled in their clothes and cuddling Jake… I can’t!!”
Niki stirred slightly, blinking awake against Jake’s chest. His eyes widened a little when he saw the phone and the post.
“You… posted that?” he whispered, voice soft and uncertain.
Jake smiled, tightening his hold. “Yeah. Look at you safe, cozy, happy. You deserve to be seen like this.”
Niki flushed lightly, snuggling closer. “I… I like it…”
Sunoo leaned over and ruffled his hair gently. “See? You can be yourself. And we’ll always be here for you.”
For once, Niki didn’t feel guilty for taking up space. He didn’t feel fear or tension. He felt warmth, comfort, and a growing sense of belonging.
And for the fans, the post was a beacon of hope: showing Niki thriving, safe, and adored, wrapped in the care of the alphas who had chosen to protect him.
After weeks of spending time with Enhypen, Niki began to feel comfortable enough to relax in ways he never had before. It wasn’t just Jake or Sunoo anymore he was starting to trust the other alphas too.
Sunghoon was always calm, steady, quietly observant. He had a way of noticing when Niki’s shoulders tensed, when his hands fidgeted, or when his breath hitched slightly. One evening, after a long day of rehearsal, Niki had curled up on the couch, hoodie pulled tight, and Sunghoon quietly sat beside him, draping a soft blanket over his small frame.
“Here,” Sunghoon said softly, placing a hand lightly on Niki’s shoulder. “You’re okay. Just rest.”
Niki leaned against him instinctively, letting the solid presence of Sunghoon ground him. The hand on his shoulder stayed, gentle but firm a silent reassurance. For the first time in months, Niki felt safe enough to just be without worrying about judgment or harshness.
Heeseung had been observing Niki from a distance at first, unsure how to approach. But after noticing Niki’s little smiles when interacting with Jake or Sunoo, he decided to step in.
During practice, he approached quietly. “Mind if I show you a small adjustment?” he asked, soft and non-demanding.
Niki nodded, grateful for the gentle tone. Heeseung guided him slowly, correcting posture, positioning, and movements never harshly, never snapping. His calm patience made Niki feel like he could actually learn again without fear.
Later, Heeseung lingered while Niki stretched. “You’re doing really well,” he said, just quietly enough that it felt personal. Niki’s chest warmed validation without pressure, care without condescension.
Jungwon had always been playful in subtle ways. After noticing Niki’s quiet moments of doubt, he began to include him in light-hearted exercises, teasing in a gentle, safe way.
“Hey, careful with that step, or you’ll topple over again,” Jungwon joked lightly during choreography, nudging Niki’s shoulder with a finger.
Niki blinked, startled and then laughed softly, tension easing. “I-I’ll be careful,” he stammered, cheeks warming.
Later, Jungwon sat beside him while reviewing dance videos. “You’re getting better every day,” he said, pointing out small improvements with a smile. Niki leaned slightly against him, feeling part of the group without fear.
Over time, Niki began to allow small touches, leaning into shoulders, resting hands on laps while sitting together, or letting himself curl up in their hoodies. The first time he cuddled lightly with all three Sunghoon, Heeseung, and Jungwon he felt a strange mix of warmth and disbelief.
Wrapped in their presence, hoodie layered over his own clothes, he felt safe, cared for, and seen.
Even when his own group had made him flinch at touches, here he could relax. Here, the touches were gentle, deliberate, grounding.
Sunghoon stroked his hair lightly, Heeseung rested a hand over Niki’s arm, and Jungwon nudged him playfully yet carefully.
“I like this,” Niki murmured, voice soft, almost shy.
“You’re allowed to,” Jake said from beside him, wrapping an arm around him as well. “You deserve this.”
Niki felt like he had more than just protection he had a pack.
A few days after the cozy photos of Niki bundled in Jake’s and the other alphas’ hoodies went viral, fans couldn’t stop talking. Clips of Niki laughing with Sunghoon during light practice, leaning against Heeseung while reviewing choreography, and joking with Jungwon during stretching sessions were all circulating online.
Tweets and comments flooded in:
“Is Niki basically part of Enhypen now?? 😭💖”
“He looks so happy with them… is he officially their omega?”
“I love that he’s finally safe, but now I’m curious will he join their pack?”
“This is literally what a healthy friendship/support system looks like 😭”
Even entertainment blogs picked up on it, writing pieces about how the youngest, most vulnerable member of a rival group had found safety and care with a group he wasn’t officially part of.
The fandom coined terms like #NikiPack and #SafeNiki, and videos of Niki wearing their clothes, laughing, and cuddling lightly with the alphas were shared endlessly.
Niki noticed the posts but shrugged softly. “I just like being here,” he said quietly to Jake one evening, hoodie wrapped tightly around him.
Jake smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I know. And that’s all that matters pack or no pack.”
Back at his own group dorm, the reaction was immediate.
One member stormed into the common room, phone clutched tightly. “Have you seen this?” he spat, showing the viral posts of Niki wrapped up with Enhypen members. “He’s… smiling. Laughing. He’s thriving while we’re stuck here under scrutiny!”
The leader slammed a fist onto the table. “It’s ridiculous. He’s acting like he doesn’t even belong to us anymore!”
Another muttered, frustration creeping into his tone. “He’s wearing their hoodies… he’s with them… people actually like it! They like him more with them than with us.”
They sat in tense silence for a moment, all three glaring at the screen, processing the public buzz, the viral posts, the hashtags.
Finally, one muttered bitterly, “He’s not supposed to be happy like that. He’s supposed to… I don’t know… obey, or at least feel pressure from us.”
The anger was sharp, but so was the helplessness. Nothing they did could erase the comfort Niki had found with Enhypen. They couldn’t force him back into fear.
Meanwhile, Niki, back at Enhypen’s dorm, noticed the difference in himself. He laughed more freely now, leaned into the alphas without fear, and even started wearing their hoodies casually during downtime, fully aware of the scent, fully aware of the safety it represented.
He realized something quietly to himself: he didn’t need to go back to fear. He didn’t need to hide. He had people who cared, people who protected him, and spaces where he could just be small and soft without consequence.
And that thought small but fierce made his chest swell with a quiet, growing confidence.
He smiled into Jake’s shoulder one evening. “I think I’m okay here,” he whispered.
Jake chuckled softly, arms tightening around him. “You’re more than okay. You’re home.”
It was a rare day off, and Niki had joined Jake and the other alphas for a casual outing. They strolled through a quiet park, laughing softly, sunlight catching Niki’s now shoulder-length hair and the layered clothes he had been wearing from the others.
Niki felt calm. Comfortable. Safe. For the first time in months, he wasn’t bracing for sharp words or pushes. He leaned into Jake’s side as they walked, Sunghoon and Heeseung flanking them lightly. Jungwon occasionally nudged him playfully, and Niki let himself laugh freely at their jokes.
It felt like belonging.
Jay noticed and quietly snapped a photo, showing Niki nestled comfortably among them, before putting the phone away. “Perfect,” he murmured. “Look at him finally at ease.”
Niki smiled faintly, tugging his hoodie closer. “I really love this,” he whispered, voice soft.
Jake’s hand slid over Niki’s back. “I know. You deserve to feel this safe.”
They had just stopped near a café when Niki froze mid-step. His chest tightened, and his head instinctively ducked into Jake’s side.
One of his old group members was standing across the path, phone in hand, scowling. The moment their eyes met, the alpha scent from Jay, Sunghoon, Heeseung, and Jungwon hit him full force even faintly on Niki’s hoodie and hair.
“You… what are you wearing?” the member spat, voice sharp. “Why do you smell like… them?”
Niki’s heart slammed. His stomach twisted. His hands clutched the hoodie tighter, trying to hide himself. The warmth and safety he had felt moments ago evaporated like mist.
“I… I’m fine…” Niki whispered shakily, but his voice cracked.
“You’re… you’re acting like you belong with them!” the member hissed, stepping closer, nostrils flaring with irritation. “Do you even care about us? About this group?”
The crowd passing by didn’t notice the tension, but for Niki, the world narrowed to a single point of panic. His chest tightened, breaths shallow and rapid, vision swimming.
Jake immediately stepped in front of him, arm sweeping around Niki protectively. Sunghoon, Heeseung, and Jungwon flanked them subtly, their alpha presence grounding him in instinctual safety.
“It’s fine, Niki,” Jake murmured, pressing him closer. “I’ve got you. Nobody’s going to touch you. Just breathe. I’ve got you.”
Niki’s small hands gripped Jake’s hoodie, shaking. “I… I can’t… I’m scared…”
Sunghoon rested a steady hand on his shoulder. “You’re safe. Right here, right now. Nobody can hurt you.”
Heeseung’s voice was calm and firm. “Ignore them. You’re not theirs anymore. You’re with us, and we won’t let anything happen to you.”
Jungwon leaned in slightly, nudging Niki gently. “You’re allowed to be scared, but you’re okay. You’re okay.”
The old member sneered, frustrated that Niki wasn’t responding with fear or shame. Muttering under their breath, they finally stormed off, leaving Niki trembling against Jake.
Jake tightened his hold, lips brushing Niki’s hair. “Shh… it’s over. You’re okay now. Nobody’s here to hurt you. Just me.”
Niki clung to him, letting himself tremble, releasing the panic slowly. His small voice was muffled against Jake’s chest. “I… I just… I don’t want to go back…”
“You don’t have to,” Jake whispered. “Not ever. We’ve got you. All of us.”
Niki exhaled shakily, finally letting the tension drain out of his body as the steady presence of his “pack” reminded him he was safe, loved, and no longer alone.
The conference room was stark, bright, and silent. The members of Niki’s group sat stiffly, each of them avoiding eye contact with one another or with the manager waiting at the head of the table.
“Sit down,” the manager said firmly, voice echoing slightly in the room. “We need to have a serious discussion about what’s been happening.”
The leader opened his mouth, but the manager held up a hand. “No excuses. We’ve tried talking to you, providing training, therapy sessions, counseling. Yet the behavior towards Niki continues. He’s terrified of you, and the public isn’t blind to it anymore. This ends now.”
One member muttered defensively, “We’re just… rough. That’s how it’s always been”
“Stop,” the manager snapped. “This isn’t roughness. This is harassment. Intimidation. Emotional abuse. Niki’s panic attacks, his breakdowns, the social media exposure that is your responsibility. You’ve failed him as teammates and as human beings.”
The room went silent. No one spoke. The weight of the words pressed down.
“We’re giving you one final chance,” the manager continued. “Effective immediately, you will treat Niki with respect, decency, and care. No more pushing, no more insults, no more targeting him about his omega status, his appearance, or anything else. You will follow every guideline the company sets for safe treatment and boundaries.”
The leader shifted uncomfortably. “And if we don’t?”
“If you fail,” the manager said flatly, “the group will be disbanded. You will not have another opportunity to work together. Niki’s well-being comes first, and we will not allow your behavior to put him in danger again.”
The room was still. The members looked at one another, realization and frustration mixing on their faces. The public scrutiny, the viral posts, the backlash, and the company’s ultimatum it was a storm they could not ignore.
“Understand this,” the manager said, voice low and firm. “This is not a suggestion. You will either change, or this group ends. There will be no exceptions, and there will be no more warnings. Niki deserves safety. Period.”
Niki’s name hung in the air like a weight they couldn’t escape. The group’s silence was heavy, tense, uncomfortable.
“You have until tomorrow,” the manager finished. “Prove that you can be professional, decent human beings. Otherwise… the company will take action immediately.”
They stood, leaving the members to sit in stunned quiet.
The members left the room slowly, eyes downcast, murmuring complaints to one another. But underneath the anger and frustration was a new fear: the group might truly end if they didn’t change.
Meanwhile, the company sent a discreet message to Niki:
“We’ve addressed the situation. You will not have to face them alone. We are taking your well-being seriously. Continue to focus on yourself, and know that you are supported.”
Niki, reading the message, let out a small, relieved sigh. For the first time, he felt like the power had shifted. He was no longer entirely at the mercy of his old group.
Wrapped in his hoodie, smelling faintly of Jake and the other Enhypen members, Niki finally allowed himself to relax. The fight was no longer just his the company, the public, and his pack had his back.
For the first time in months, he truly felt safe.
The evening was quiet in the dorm. Rehearsals were over, schedules wrapped up, and the apartment smelled faintly of laundry and lingering sunlight through the windows. Niki, still wearing one of Jay’s oversized hoodies, had been quietly lounging with the group, watching videos of practice and laughing softly at small mistakes.
As the night grew later, Niki felt his eyelids getting heavy. The warmth around him, Jake’s protective arm, Sunghoon’s steady presence, Heeseung’s calm hand on the armrest made him feel safe in a way he hadn’t felt in months.
Jay noticed and whispered gently, “You look tired. Why don’t you rest for a bit?”
Niki hesitated, voice soft. “I… I’ll just… stay here a little longer…”
Jake nudged him lightly, smiling. “You’re fine. Just rest. No one’s going anywhere. You can fall asleep here if you want.”
Niki’s small hands twitched slightly as he inched closer to Jake, then Sunghoon shifted on the couch, creating a little space, and Niki’s decision was made. Slowly, hesitantly, he moved closer to Sunghoon, letting his head rest on the alpha’s shoulder. Sunghoon shifted just enough to accommodate him, draping a blanket gently over Niki without a word.
The soft touch, the alpha’s calm scent, the quiet steady breathing it all felt grounding. Niki’s eyes fluttered closed, small fingers curling slightly into the fabric of Sunghoon’s sweatshirt.
He exhaled, letting himself relax completely, finally allowing the tension of the day, the fear, and the anxiety to slip away. Sunghoon rested a gentle hand on Niki’s back, pressing him lightly closer, protective and warm.
“Sleep well, little one,” Sunghoon murmured softly.
Niki’s lips curved into a faint, peaceful smile, and soon his breathing evened out. In the safe cocoon of warmth, alpha scent, and gentle protection, he drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep, feeling entirely cared for and loved for the first time in a long while.
Jake glanced over, smiling quietly. “Looks like he trusts us,” he whispered to the others, who all nodded softly, watching their little omega sleep safely among them.
at the company, the atmosphere was tense. The manager had called an urgent meeting with Niki’s group. Niki wasn’t present the focus was entirely on their behavior and whether they could meet the company’s expectations.
The manager’s expression was stern. “This is your final warning. Niki’s safety is non-negotiable. You’ve been given multiple opportunities therapy, training, counseling. Yet reports and public concerns indicate that nothing has changed.”
The leader leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “We don’t see why this is a problem. We haven’t done anything wrong. He’s overreacting. And now the company is attacking us for… what? Being honest about how we work together?”
Another member chimed in. “Yeah. We feel like we’re being punished. Niki’s fine. He’s exaggerating, and the public is overreacting. Why should we have to change?”
The manager’s jaw tightened. “Let me be clear. Your behavior violates not just ethical expectations it violates your contract. You are obligated to maintain professionalism and a safe working environment. You are not above the rules.”
The leader scoffed. “This is ridiculous. We’ve been good to him, just strict, that’s all.”
“You’ve created a hostile environment that is documented, reported, and publicized,” the manager said, voice low but firm. “Your refusal to follow the rules and ensure Niki’s safety is a direct breach of contract. If you continue to refuse, the group will be disbanded immediately.”
There was stunned silence. None of the members spoke. Their faces flushed with frustration, disbelief, and the faint trace of fear but pride kept them from apologizing.
“Understand this,” the manager continued. “This is not negotiable. You either comply fully with all guidelines regarding Niki’s treatment, or the company will terminate the group contract. There will be no second chances.”
One member muttered bitterly, “We shouldn’t even have to do this. It’s not like we did anything wrong.”
“Wrong or not,” the manager said sharply, “the company decides what is acceptable. Your continued refusal is grounds for immediate termination. This is your final chance.”
The final warning had passed, and the members of Niki’s group had refused to cooperate. They argued, blamed the company, and insisted they hadn’t done anything wrong but their behavior and refusal to follow the mandated changes left no choice.
The company made the decision official: the group was disbanded.
A formal statement went out later that day:
“After careful consideration and repeated attempts to ensure a safe and supportive environment, the company has made the difficult decision to disband AURUM The health and well-being of our artists is our top priority, and we will not compromise their safety. We ask fans to continue supporting Niki as he focuses on his recovery and personal well-being. His health comes first, and we are committed to providing him with the care he deserves.”
The statement quickly circulated online, with fans both shocked and relieved. Many praised the company for prioritizing Niki’s safety, while social media erupted with support hashtags like #ProtectNiki and #SafeNiki.
Meanwhile, the company reached out to Niki personally. A gentle message appeared on his phone:
“Niki, we want you to know that you are supported. Given the recent events, we would like to offer you an extended break to rest, recover, and focus on your well-being. You are our priority, and we want to ensure you feel safe, cared for, and fully supported during this time.”
Niki read the message slowly, blinking back a mixture of tears and relief. He showed it to Jake, his hoodie still wrapped around him.
“They- they’re giving me more time?” Niki whispered, voice trembling.
Jake nodded, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “Yeah. You can take all the time you need. Nobody’s rushing you. You’re safe, Niki. They’ve got your back and so do we.”
Niki let out a shaky breath, finally allowing himself to feel the weight of everything he’d endured begin to lift.
Wrapped in Jake’s arms, and with the quiet support of Sunghoon, Heeseung, Jungwon, and the others, Niki allowed himself to feel something he hadn’t in a long time: relief.
He didn’t have to pretend. He didn’t have to be small. He didn’t have to hide from anyone.
The world outside was chaotic and had been cruel, but here, in this safe space with people who genuinely cared for him, Niki finally felt like he could breathe again.
“Thank you,” he whispered, resting his head against Jake’s chest.
Jake smiled softly, hands gently stroking his hair. “You don’t have to thank anyone. You just need to be you. That’s enough.”
Niki closed his eyes, sinking fully into the warmth and protection around him, finally letting the weight of months of fear and anxiety dissolve.
For the first time, he truly felt free.
Weeks had passed since the disbandment of his old group. Niki’s extended break, combined with the unwavering support of Jake, Sunghoon, Heeseung, Jungwon, Jay, and Sunoo, had given him space to heal.
Now, he was stepping out for a short public schedule, a light recording for a variety program alongside the Enhypen members. He still wore Jake’s oversized hoodie, layered over soft clothes that made him feel safe and grounded.
As soon as he walked into the studio, he felt a familiar wave of nerves. But this time, instead of fear, he focused on the people around him. The Enhypen members were calm, smiling gently at him, giving him space while also offering subtle reassurance through touch or presence.
“Hey, you’re doing great,” Sunghoon whispered, adjusting his own sleeve against Niki’s arm.
“You’ve got this,” Heeseung said softly, giving a light pat on Niki’s back.
“See? Nothing to worry about,” Jungwon added with a grin, nudging him lightly.
Niki’s chest swelled with warmth. For the first time in months, public appearances didn’t feel like a trap. With the alphas beside him, he could be small, soft, and even a little playful all without fear.
As the cameras rolled, Niki laughed lightly at the jokes, leaned into Jake’s shoulder during quieter moments, and even allowed Sunoo to braid a small section of his shoulder-length hair mid-segment. He felt seen, appreciated, and, most importantly, safe.
After the recording, the group returned to the dorm to relax. Niki curled up on the couch, still in Jake’s hoodie, while Sunghoon rested an arm behind him, Heeseung’s hand lightly brushing his arm, and Jungwon playfully nudging him with a small smile.
Jay quietly pulled out his phone and snapped a candid photo of Niki all bundled up, leaning against Jake and surrounded by the other alphas.
“Perfect,” he whispered, smiling.
The photo went up online later with a simple caption:
“Niki’s safe, happy, and with his pack 💖 #SafeNiki #FriendshipGoals #Enhypen”
Fans immediately erupted in praise and affection. Comments poured in:
“He looks so peaceful! Finally happy and cared for 😭❤️”
“I love seeing him safe with them. This is what friendship looks like ahhhhhh!”
“He’s literally glowing around them! Look at him smile 😭”
Niki, noticing the posts later, blushed faintly but smiled. He leaned back against Jake, murmuring, “I… I like this. Being with all of you… it feels right.”
Jake pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “It is right. You belong here. With us. You don’t need to worry about anyone else.”
Niki felt a mix of peace, warmth, and confidence both in public and in private. He was surrounded by people who genuinely cared, and fans could see it too.
Wrapped in their hoodies, scent, and presence, Niki realized he didn’t just have protection he had a pack, a family, and a space where he could finally thrive.
The success of Niki’s time with Enhypen hadn’t gone unnoticed. His laughter during practice clips, the candid moments of him cuddled up in their hoodies, and the wholesome posts showing him safe and happy with Jake, Sunghoon, Heeseung, Jungwon, Jay, and Sunoo had gone viral. Fans adored the dynamic, flooding social media with praise and encouragement.
“He’s always with them! Why isn’t he part of the group already?? 😭💖”
“Safe Niki deserves to officially be in Enhypen. Look at how happy he is with them!!”
“I’ve never seen him so relaxed. This is what an omega should have. He belongs there 😭”
The public sentiment was overwhelmingly positive, with fan campaigns under hashtags like #NikiInEnhypen and #SafeNiki trending worldwide. Media outlets reported on Niki’s apparent happiness and safety around Enhypen, framing it as a success story of artist care and supportive teamwork.
Given the overwhelming feedback and observing the clear improvement in Niki’s well-being, Enhypen’s company reached out formally to Niki’s agency.
“Hello, this is Belieft lab We have observed the recent public response and, more importantly, the health and happiness of Niki while working closely with our artists. We would like to discuss the possibility of officially welcoming Niki into Enhypen, or arranging a formal collaboration that reflects the bond and well-being we have nurtured. Our priority is the health and happiness of all our artists, and we have seen how positively Niki thrives in this environment.”
The message was careful, professional, but clear: the company recognized not only the public interest but, more importantly, that Niki was safer, happier, and thriving with Enhypen.
Niki, reading a brief notice about the outreach from his agency, blinked in surprise. He was curled up in Jake’s arms, Jay and Sunghoon lounging nearby, casually scrolling through fan posts celebrating him.
“I… they’re talking about me joining you guys?” he asked softly, voice small but tinged with excitement.
Jake chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “Looks like people already think you’re part of the pack. I don’t think anyone would argue with them.”
Sunghoon leaned over, brushing a strand of hair from Niki’s face. “Honestly? You’ve been ours for months. Official or not, it’s clear where you belong.”
Heeseung smiled quietly. “This could be your chance to really be where you’re safe and happy, Niki.”
Niki pressed his face into Jake’s chest, letting himself process the thought. For the first time, he felt the possibility of a future where he didn’t just belong emotionally but officially. Where he could thrive, be small and soft without fear, and finally have a place where his well-being came first.
And with Enhypen surrounding him, supporting him, and having his back, both publicly and privately. Niki realized something quietly but powerfully: he might finally have a place to truly call home.
The announcement went out quietly at first, giving fans time to process the news: Niki would officially be joining Enhypen. The official statement read:
“We are thrilled to announce that Niki will be officially joining Enhypen. After observing the positive environment and undeniable bond between Niki and our members, as well as his growth and happiness while spending time with the group, we believe this is the best step for both his personal well-being and his artistic development. Please continue to support Niki as he begins this new chapter with Enhypen.”
Fans went wild. #WelcomeNiki, #NikiEnhypen, and countless supportive hashtags flooded social media. Comments were filled with joy, excitement, and relief.
“He finally has a place where he belongs!! 😭❤️”
“This is everything! Niki deserves this happiness!”
“He looks so relaxed and safe. I’m so glad he’s with them officially!”
Niki, sitting quietly in the dorm common room, blinked at the announcement on his phone, his hoodie from Jake wrapped snugly around him.
Jake leaned over, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “You’re officially ours now,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Niki’s head.
Niki’s chest swelled with a mix of disbelief and joy. “I- I’m really part of the pack?” he murmured, voice small.
“Yeah,” Sunghoon said, resting a steady hand on Niki’s back. “Officially and forever.”
Heeseung smiled softly. “You’re safe here, Niki. That’s what matters.”
Jungwon nudged him playfully. “Welcome officially! Let’s have some fun, yeah?”
A few days later, the group recorded a special “Welcome Niki” video for fans. The camera caught the group lounging in the dorm, sunlight streaming through the windows.
“Hey everyone!” Jake started, smiling warmly. “Today, we’re celebrating Niki officially joining the pack. We thought we’d show you how much fun we have together.”
The camera panned to Niki, cheeks pink, wrapped in Jake’s hoodie, looking both shy and happy.
Sunoo grinned. “We’re going to play some mini games, eat some food, and just hang out. You can see how our little omega enjoys life with us!”
Niki laughed softly, letting himself relax. He joined in a quick guessing game with Jungwon and Heeseung, holding his breath in suspense every time someone teased him or tried to trick him. Each time he guessed correctly, he received a playful nudge or gentle pat on the back, making him giggle.
Later, they shared snacks together. Sunghoon carefully cut pieces of fruit for Niki, handing them over with a small smile. Jake ruffled Niki’s hair, nudging him playfully as he reached for a cookie.
“See?” Jay said, holding the camera steady. “This is what we mean by Niki being part of the pack. Happy, safe, and just having fun.”
Niki leaned against Jake’s chest, resting his head lightly, eyes soft and content. “I love this,” he murmured.
The video ended with all of them together, laughing, eating, and nudging each other playfully, a snapshot of Niki’s new life: safe, happy, and surrounded by people who truly cared. Fans immediately flooded the comments with adoration:
“He looks so comfortable and happy!! This is literally goals 😭❤️”
“The way he’s snuggled up to Jake and all of them ahhh my heart 😭💖”
“This is what love and care look like. So wholesome!!”
Niki glanced at the camera again, a small smile tugging at his lips. For the first time in months, maybe years, he truly felt like he belonged.
Weeks after officially joining Enhypen, Niki began attending schedules and public events with the group officially. Each step felt like a test of his confidence, but this time, the environment was completely different.
At a music show, Niki walked onto the stage with Jake, Sunghoon, Heeseung, Jungwon, Jay, and Sunoo, his hoodie layered casually under his stage outfit. The bright lights no longer felt intimidating instead, he focused on the calm, steady presence of the alphas around him.
During interviews, the members gently supported him. Sunghoon would stand close, subtly nudging him if Niki looked anxious; Heeseung would smile reassuringly whenever the camera lingered too long on him; Jungwon would whisper little jokes that made Niki chuckle quietly.
Fans watching live could immediately tell the difference. Niki’s posture was relaxed, his small smiles genuine, and he even interacted playfully with the other members, clearly comfortable in their presence. He wasn’t just a member of the group on paper he was thriving.
Online, fans were ecstatic. Clips from the show went viral, with hashtags like #ThrivingNiki and #Nikissocute trending globally. Comments poured in:
“Look at him smiling! He’s finally happy 😭❤️”
“He’s so confident now being with them really brought him out of his shell!”
“This is exactly why fans wanted him officially in Enhypen. He’s thriving and safe, and it shows!”
Fans shared screenshots of him laughing with the members, leaning on Jake or brushing his hair with Sunoo during interviews, and fans noticed the genuine comfort and safety in every gesture.
Even media outlets commented:
“Niki’s presence with Enhypen highlights how important artist care and mental health are. Fans are thrilled to see him flourish in a supportive environment.”
Backstage, Niki adjusted his hoodie and breathed deeply. He could feel Jake’s hand brushing lightly against his back, Sunghoon’s calm presence nearby, Heeseung’s supportive smile, and Jungwon’s playful nudge.
“I- I can’t believe I actually feel this safe,” Niki whispered softly to Jake.
Jake pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “That’s because you are safe. And you deserve every bit of this happiness.”
Niki smiled, finally able to relax in front of cameras and fans. For the first time, he wasn’t just enduring public appearances he was enjoying them, thriving in an environment where he belonged and was cared for.
Every smile, every laugh, every playful interaction with the members became a quiet triumph proof that he was no longer defined by fear or past trauma, but by the love and safety he had found with his pack.
Fans noticed. The world noticed. And most importantly, Niki felt it too.
Wrapped in the warmth of his fellow alphas, the comfort of hoodies and hands, and the knowledge that he was finally safe, Niki let himself smile fully the kind of smile that came from belonging, trust, and finally being free.
Niki sat in the salon chair, shoulders tense but excitement flickering in his chest. Today, he was getting a haircut and dye, a darker shade than his usual shoulder-length hair, giving him a more mature, refined look.
Jake stayed close, hand lightly brushing Niki’s back, keeping him grounded. Sunghoon, Heeseung, and Jungwon lounged nearby, all eyes glued to Niki as the stylist began snipping away.
“You’re going to look amazing,” Sunghoon said softly, nudging Niki’s shoulder.
“I hope so,” Niki murmured, glancing at his reflection. He wasn’t used to so much attention, even if it was positive.
When the stylist finished, Niki’s hair was now a rich, dark color, falling neatly around his face with soft layers framing his features. He blinked at his reflection, momentarily stunned.
“Oh…” Niki whispered, fingers brushing over his new hair.
Jake leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Niki’s head. “Handsome,” he murmured, voice low and full of affection. “Absolutely handsome.”
Sunghoon crouched slightly to get a better look. “So cute,” he said, ruffling Niki’s hair gently. “Adorable little omega.”
Heeseung laughed softly, tugging Niki lightly into a side hug. “You’re glowing. Look at you honestly, how can someone be this perfect?”
Jungwon leaned over the chair, brushing a hand over Niki’s shoulder. “I mean, come on. Look at that face. Look at that hair. He’s stunning.”
Even Jay, usually quieter with these things, couldn’t hide his soft smile as he gently adjusted Niki’s hoodie over his shoulders. “You’re adorable,” he said simply, but his tone carried warmth and pride.
Before Niki could protest at all the fuss, Jake pulled him closer, resting an arm around his waist. Sunghoon draped a protective arm across Niki’s other side, Heeseung nudged him gently, and Jungwon gave a playful poke to his shoulder.
“You’re safe here,” Jake whispered, pressing a soft kiss to Niki’s temple. “You can just be small and soft. We’ve got you.”
Niki’s cheeks flushed, but he leaned into the warmth, letting himself melt into their presence. “I- I like this,” he murmured.
“You should,” Sunghoon said, brushing his fingers lightly through Niki’s new dark hair. “You look amazing. We’re proud of you.”
Adoration and affection surrounded Niki like a protective cocoon, and for the first time in months, he felt a pure, unpressured happiness. He was handsome, safe, cared for, and finally allowed to be himself.
It was the day of a fan meet and media schedule, and Niki was walking into the studio with Enhypen. His dark, shoulder-length hair framed his face perfectly, a slight curl at the ends giving him a soft, mature look. He still wore an oversized hoodie from Jake, layered comfortably, giving him the warmth and safety he loved.
As soon as he stepped into the studio, fans noticed immediately. Cameras flashed, social media clips went live, and the comments were nonstop. Niki moved with a quiet confidence, laughing gently at Sunghoon and Heeseung’s playful nudges, and leaning lightly into Jake whenever he felt a flicker of nerves.
During interviews, the alphas stayed close subtly grounding him with their presence. Jake draped a protective arm over Niki’s shoulders when the questions got long, Sunghoon’s calm gaze occasionally meeting his, and Heeseung’s hand brushing gently against Niki’s arm if he seemed anxious.
Niki found himself smiling freely, showing off his new look proudly. For once, public appearances didn’t feel like a trap they felt safe, even fun.
As clips of the fan meet circulated online, fans erupted. Comments and posts flooded every social media platform:
“LOOK AT HIS HAIR!! He’s stunning 😭❤️”
“the way he’s leaning into Jake and the others my heart 😭💖”
“This is everything we wanted for him🥺”
“The hoodie, the hair, the smile he’s literally perfection with them!”
Fan art, edits, and hashtags like #SafeNiki, #ThrivingNiki, and #EnhypenFamily trended worldwide. People adored the bond between Niki and the alphas the way he leaned into their touches, the protective gestures they shared, the playful nudges, and the affectionate smiles.
Backstage, Niki adjusted his hoodie and brushed a hand through his newly darkened hair, smiling softly at the chaos of positivity online.
Jake leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “See? You look amazing. Everyone notices how happy and safe you are.”
Sunghoon crouched slightly to ruffle Niki’s hair. “You’re adorable, and honestly, just look at you. You belong here.”
Heeseung and Jungwon nudged him playfully, each whispering small compliments, and Jay smiled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from Niki’s face.
Niki’s small laugh echoed through the room, feeling warm and proud. “I really feel… like I belong,” he whispered.
“Yes,” Jake murmured, pulling him into a soft, protective hug. “You do. You belong here, with us. Always.”
For the first time, Niki didn’t just feel safe he felt seen, cherished, and truly part of a pack that loved and protected him.
Fans online continued to celebrate, but Niki didn’t need their approval anymore he had the people who mattered most around him, and that was enough.
The dorm was quiet, the soft hum of evening filling the room. Niki was curled up on Jake’s lap, wrapped in his oversized hoodie, feeling the steady warmth of Jake’s body beneath him. His small frame fit perfectly against Jake, and he could feel the soft rise and fall of Jake’s chest as he breathed calmly.
Jake’s hands rested gently on Niki’s back and side, stroking lightly, grounding him, letting him feel completely safe. Niki had rested his head against Jake’s shoulder, eyes half-closed, letting himself relax fully for the first time that day.
“You’re so small… so soft,” Jake murmured, tilting his head down to look at him. Niki flushed faintly, nuzzling closer into the hoodie.
“You’re warm,” Niki whispered, voice tiny but content.
Jake smiled, leaning forward slightly. He gently tilted Niki’s head up, cradling it with one hand, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. “You’re so cute,” Jake said, voice low, affectionate. “I really… really like you, Niki.”
Niki’s eyes widened slightly, then softened as he melted into the kiss, feeling the warmth, the protection, and the genuine care in Jake’s touch. He pressed back lightly, resting his hands against Jake’s chest.
“You really mean that?” Niki whispered once they parted slightly, voice still breathy.
Jake nodded, brushing a strand of hair from Niki’s face. “Of course. You’re adorable, my little omega. I love having you close like this. You’re perfect just the way you are.”
Niki let out a small sigh, nuzzling closer into Jake’s chest again. “ I feel safe,” he murmured.
“And that’s exactly how you should feel,” Jake said, arms tightening gently around him. “Here, with me, you’re safe. You’re loved. You’re mine.”
The room was quiet except for the soft rustle of their clothes and the sound of steady breathing. Niki rested there, warm and comforted, finally letting himself sink fully into the feeling of being cherished and adored.
Wrapped in Jake’s embrace, Niki let himself close his eyes completely, feeling the world fall away, leaving only warmth, safety, and love.
The dorm was lively but calm, with everyone gathered in the living room after a long day of schedules. Niki sat curled up on the couch, wrapped in Jake’s hoodie, his head resting lightly against Jake’s shoulder. Sunghoon, Heeseung, Jungwon, Jay, and Sunoo all had subtle ways of keeping him close and safe an arm brushing against him, a gentle hand on his back, playful nudges, or quiet comments that made him smile.
“You need some water?” Heeseung asked, handing Niki a bottle without making him feel pressured.
“Here,” Sunoo said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind Niki’s ear. “Sit closer. You’re safe here.”
Jungwon nudged Niki gently with a playful grin. “You can lean on us anytime, you know. We’ve got you.”
Jay quietly adjusted the blanket over Niki’s shoulders, making sure he was comfortable. “There. Perfect.”
Sunghoon draped an arm casually over Niki’s shoulders, resting his chin lightly on top of Niki’s head. “You’re doing great, little one. We’re proud of you.”
Niki felt warmth flood him. For the first time in months, he didn’t have to hide, didn’t have to be small and scared he could simply be himself. Surrounded by people who genuinely cared, he allowed himself to relax completely.
Jake leaned down slightly, tilting Niki’s head with gentle fingers. “You’re too cute for words,” he murmured, voice low and warm. He pressed his lips to Niki’s again, this time with more depth and affection, letting the kiss linger.
Niki shivered softly, melting into the warmth, wrapping his small hands around Jake’s chest. The kiss was tender but passionate, full of trust, care, and love. Jake’s hands cradled him gently, holding him close, as if to reassure Niki that he was safe and cherished in every way.
Pulling back slightly, Jake whispered against Niki’s lips, “I really like you… more than I can say. You’re mine, and I’ll always keep you safe.”
Niki’s small laugh mixed with a soft sigh. “I… I like you too,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against Jake’s. “I feel… so safe with you.”
Jake smiled, arms tightening gently, holding Niki close. “That’s all that matters, little one. You’re safe. You’re loved. You’re home.”
Even as the other members watched from nearby, quietly smiling, they knew this little omega was theirs to protect. Every glance, every touch, every gesture of care was part of a bond that had been forged through months of love, protection, and trust. Niki didn’t just belong to Jake he belonged to the entire pack, safe, adored, and finally thriving.
The dorm was unusually quiet that evening. Most of the others were scattered around Jay in his room, Jungwon and Sunghoon watching something in the living room, Jake on a call.
Niki padded into the kitchen in one of the oversized hoodies he’d basically claimed as his own, hair still dark and soft around his face. He was reaching up on his toes to grab a snack from the top shelf when he felt it a presence behind him.
Strong. Warm. Familiar.
He barely had time to turn before a hand pressed against the cabinet beside him.
Heeseung.
“Hyung?” Niki blinked, heart skipping.
Heeseung’s eyes were softer than usual, but there was something playful in them too. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he teased lightly.
“I haven’t!” Niki protested, cheeks already pink.
Heeseung stepped closer. Slowly. Intentionally. Until Niki’s back gently bumped against the counter.
“Oh?” Heeseung murmured. “Then why do you look so nervous right now?”
Niki swallowed. Heeseung had always been gentle steady, grounding but sometimes he had this quiet intensity that made Niki’s knees weak.
Before Niki could answer, Heeseung’s hands slid to his waist, lifting him effortlessly and setting him up onto the counter. It wasn’t rough it was careful, controlled but it made Niki’s breath catch.
“H–Hyung…”
Heeseung stepped between his knees, hands braced on either side of him. “You’re too cute lately,” he murmured. “Walking around in our clothes. Letting us dote on you. Looking at us like that.”
Niki’s fingers curled into the front of Heeseung’s shirt. “Like what?” he whispered.
“Like you trust us completely.”
The words softened the air between them.
Heeseung lifted a hand to Niki’s jaw, tilting his chin up gently. For a moment, he just looked at him dark hair framing flushed cheeks, wide eyes, lips parted slightly.
Then he leaned in.
The kiss wasn’t hesitant. It wasn’t rushed either. It was warm, deep, and intentional Heeseung’s hand sliding to cradle the back of Niki’s head as their lips moved together.
Niki melted instantly, hands gripping onto Heeseung’s shoulders for balance. The kiss grew more intense, more affectionate Heeseung pressing closer, careful not to overwhelm him but not holding back either.
When they finally parted, Niki was breathing softly, dazed.
Heeseung didn’t move away. Instead, he lowered his head to Niki’s neck, nuzzling gently against his scent gland. His voice dropped lower, protective.
“You smell like all of us,” he murmured. “But I want you to smell like me too.”
He gently brushed his nose along Niki’s neck, slow and deliberate, scenting him, not possessive in a harsh way, but warm, claiming in the way of a pack reinforcing comfort and bond.
Niki shivered, fingers tightening in Heeseung’s shirt.
“You’re ours,” Heeseung whispered softly against his skin. “Safe. Wanted. Protected.”
Niki rested his forehead against Heeseung’s shoulder, small and warm and completely pliant. “I like when you’re like this,” he admitted quietly.
Heeseung chuckled softly, pressing one last lingering kiss to his lips. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”
Footsteps echoed faintly from the living room.
Heeseung stepped back just slightly but not far. His hand remained on Niki’s waist, thumb brushing comfortingly over the hoodie fabric.
“Careful,” he teased gently. “If you keep looking at me like that, I might corner you again.”
Niki’s blush deepened but he didn’t look away.
And that, more than anything, made Heeseung smile
Jake hadn’t meant to overhear.
He’d just walked into the kitchen in time to see Heeseung stepping back slightly from Niki, Niki still sitting on the counter, lips flushed, hair a little mussed, scent noticeably stronger.
Heeseung’s scent.
Jake froze.
Niki looked soft. Dazed. Warm.
And marked.
Jake’s jaw tightened before he could stop it.
“Oh?” he said lightly, but there was an edge underneath. “What’s going on here?”
Niki blinked, instantly flustered. “J-Jake it’s not—”
Heeseung just smirked faintly and stepped aside. “Relax. I was just reminding him he’s part of the pack.”
That did not help.
Jake stepped closer, eyes fixed on Niki. He could smell it clearly now. Heeseung’s scent wrapped around Niki’s neck and hoodie. It stirred something instinctive, possessive, deep in his chest.
Not anger.
But jealousy.
“You smell different,” Jake murmured.
Niki’s breath caught.
Jake’s gaze softened, but only slightly. “Come here.”
Before Niki could react, Jake gently but firmly took his hand and tugged him down from the counter. His grip wasn’t rough it was protective, controlled but there was urgency in it.
He led him down the hallway and into his room, closing the door behind them.
The second the door clicked shut, Jake turned and pulled Niki close one arm wrapping around his waist, the other cradling the back of his head.
“You let him scent you like that?” Jake murmured, voice low, not angry, just deeply instinctual.
Niki swallowed, fingers curling into Jake’s shirt. “I- I didn’t mind.”
Jake’s expression flickered. Something vulnerable passed through his eyes.
“I don’t mind either,” he said quietly. “But you’re mine too.”
The words weren’t possessive in a controlling way they were protective. Territorial in the way of a pack omega guarding something precious.
Jake buried his face into Niki’s neck.
Slowly. Thoroughly.
He nuzzled against his scent gland, breathing him in, hands sliding up his back to keep him flush against his chest. His movements were deliberate warm, claiming, reinforcing bond after bond.
“You smell like everyone already,” Jake whispered. “But I need you to smell like me too.”
He brushed his nose along Niki’s neck again, scenting him carefully, over and over grounding both of them.
Niki trembled softly in his arms. Not scared. Not overwhelmed.
Safe.
Jake’s instincts surged protect, keep close, shield from everything. He tightened his hold slightly, pressing a lingering kiss beneath Niki’s jaw.
“You’re safest with me,” he murmured. “I’ll always protect you. No one gets to make you small again. Not ever.”
Niki melted completely at that. His hands slid up around Jake’s shoulders, holding on tightly.
“I like when you get like this,” Niki whispered. “It makes me feel… wanted.”
Jake pulled back just enough to look at him. His eyes were softer now but still intense.
“You are wanted,” he said firmly. “You’re cherished.”
He leaned down and kissed him again slower this time, deeper, full of emotion rather than teasing. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t wild. It was consuming in a quiet way.
Jake’s hands stayed steady on Niki’s waist, anchoring him as their instincts swirled.
When Jake finally pulled away, Niki was flushed and warm and then something soft, almost shy, slipped out of him.
A quiet purr.
Jake froze for half a second.
Then his expression melted completely.
“Did you just-“
Niki hid his face against Jake’s chest, embarrassed. But the purring continued, soft and steady, vibrating lightly between them.
Jake’s arms wrapped around him instantly.
“That’s it,” Jake murmured, voice full of warmth and satisfaction. “Stay like this.”
He sat back onto the edge of his bed, pulling Niki onto his lap, cradling him close. One hand stroked slowly up and down his back while he continued scenting him gently, reinforcing comfort rather than possession now.
“My omega,” Jake whispered softly. “Safe. Close. With me.”
Niki purred louder at that, completely relaxed, completely trusting.
And Jake held him tighter not because he was jealous anymore, but because every instinct in him said the same thing:
Protect.
Keep close.
Home.
Niki was still warm and trembling slightly in Jake’s lap, quiet purrs rumbling from his chest. Jake could feel how heightened his instincts had gotten his own too.
He softened immediately.
“Hey… hey,” Jake murmured gently, brushing his fingers through Niki’s dark hair. “Breathe with me, okay?”
Niki’s fingers were still curled tightly in Jake’s shirt. Jake loosened his hold just enough to tilt Niki’s chin up, his thumb brushing across his flushed cheek.
“You’re okay. It’s just instinct. I’ve got you.”
Niki blinked slowly, pupils still wide, but he nodded.
Jake pressed a slow, grounding kiss to his forehead instead of his mouth this time softer, reassuring. He shifted them back against the headboard and wrapped both arms securely around Niki, letting him settle fully against his chest.
One hand stroked down his back in slow, steady motions. The other rested over his waist, thumb rubbing gentle circles.
“Slow breaths,” Jake whispered. “In and out.”
Niki matched him after a few tries. The purring softened from needy to content. His body gradually relaxed, melting into Jake’s warmth.
“There you go,” Jake praised quietly. “That’s my good omega.”
Niki hummed softly, calmer now, face tucked against Jake’s collarbone.
Jake continued scenting him gently not in a claiming way anymore, just reinforcing comfort. Light nuzzles against his hair, his temple, the side of his neck. Warm, safe touches.
“Instinct doesn’t control us,” Jake murmured. “We control it. And you’re safe. Always.”
Eventually Niki’s breathing evened out completely.
Jake smiled faintly, pressing another soft kiss into his hair.
Later that evening, everyone gathered around the table for dinner. Jay had cooked, and the smell filled the dorm warmly.
Niki hesitated for half a second before sitting old habits creeping in but Jungwon noticed immediately.
Without a word, Jungwon reached over, tugged gently on Niki’s wrist, and pulled him straight into his lap.
“Yah—!” Niki squeaked, surprised.
Jungwon just smiled calmly and adjusted him so he was sitting sideways across his thighs.
“Stay here,” Jungwon said simply.
Niki blinked up at him. “Why?”
“Because I want to make sure you eat.”
The room went quiet for a second not tense, just attentive.
Jungwon picked up his chopsticks and held a piece of food up to Niki’s lips.
“Open.”
Niki flushed. “I can feed myself.”
“I know,” Jungwon replied gently. “But I want to.”
There was no pressure in his voice. Just steady care.
Niki slowly opened his mouth, accepting the bite. Jungwon watched carefully to make sure he chewed and swallowed properly.
“Good,” Jungwon murmured softly.
Jake, sitting beside them, watched with fond eyes instead of jealousy this time. Sunghoon nudged Heeseung lightly, both of them smiling.
Jungwon continued feeding Niki calmly, occasionally brushing his thumb against Niki’s waist or adjusting him slightly closer when he shifted.
“You need to eat enough,” Jungwon said quietly near his ear. “You don’t get to shrink yourself anymore.”
Niki swallowed, throat tight for a completely different reason now.
“I’m not trying to…” he whispered.
“I know,” Jungwon said gently. “That’s why we’re here.”
Another bite.
Then another.
Jungwon’s scent was steady and warm, wrapping around Niki in a grounding way. Not overwhelming. Just firm, protective.
By the time Niki finished a full portion, he hadn’t even realized he’d eaten more than usual.
“There,” Jungwon said softly, brushing his fingers through Niki’s dark hair. “That’s better.”
Niki leaned back against his chest without thinking.
“You’re all so fuzzy,” he murmured shyly.
Heeseung laughed softly. “You act surprised.”
“You deserve it,” Sunghoon added calmly.
Jake leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to Niki’s temple. “We’re not letting you neglect yourself again.”
Niki’s chest felt warm, not from instinct this time, but from being cared for without conditions.
He let himself relax fully in Jungwon’s lap, safe, fed, and surrounded.
And no one missed the quiet little content purr that slipped out of him again
After dinner, it almost became unspoken tradition.
If Niki was sitting somewhere, someone would gently pull him closer.
If he looked even slightly tired, someone would notice.
If he went quiet, someone would check in.
That night, he was curled up on the couch again, hoodie sleeves covering his hands. Jake had an arm around him, but when Sunghoon walked by, he lightly tapped Jake’s shoulder.
“My turn.”
Jake rolled his eyes playfully but let go.
Sunghoon sat down and gently pulled Niki against his chest instead, tucking him neatly under his chin. His arms wrapped around him securely
“You’re warm,” Niki murmured softly.
“Good,” Sunghoon replied. “Stay like that.”
A few minutes later, Heeseung swapped in, lifting Niki easily and settling him across his lap sideways.
“You’re being passed around,” Niki said shyly.
“You’re being loved,” Heeseung corrected gently, brushing his fingers through Niki’s dark hair.
Jungwon eventually joined too, sitting behind him and resting his chin on Niki’s shoulder while rubbing slow circles into his waist.
Even Jay, quieter about affection, would tug him into his side while watching something, making sure the blanket covered him properly.
And Sunoo? Sunoo would fix his hair and kiss his cheek and call him “our pretty omega” without hesitation.
Niki didn’t even protest anymore.
He just let himself be held.
Let himself be wanted.
Let himself be safe.
The next afternoon at practice was different.
The mirrors were bright. The speakers loud. The routine fast.
Niki stood at the center.
He’d always been known as a dance prodigy. Precision. Control. Fluidity. It was part of his identity.
And now that he was officially in Enhypen, that pressure felt heavier.
He had to be perfect.
He couldn’t mess up.
He couldn’t fall behind.
The music started again.
And again.
And again.
“Niki, take five,” Heeseung said after the fourth run.
“I’m fine,” Niki answered immediately.
He wasn’t.
His breathing was too fast. His movements slightly sharper than usual, bordering on forced.
They ran it again.
Halfway through, Niki pushed harder. Jumped higher. Snapped quicker. Trying to erase even the smallest imperfections.
He stumbled slightly during a turn.
His jaw tightened.
“Again,” he said before anyone else could speak.
Jake frowned.
“Niki-“
“Again.”
They went through it.
This time Niki didn’t stumble. But he overextended a move, landing too hard.
The sound of his shoes hitting the floor echoed sharply.
By the seventh run, his shirt was soaked. His chest rising and falling too quickly.
“Niki,” Jungwon said more firmly now. “Stop.”
“I said I’m fine.”
He wasn’t.
He moved to start again on his own, but his legs felt shaky. His vision slightly blurred.
Heeseung stepped forward first and caught his wrist gently.
“That’s enough.”
Niki pulled slightly. “I need to get it right.”
“You already have it right,” Sunghoon said calmly.
“No, I don’t,” Niki snapped then immediately froze.
The room went quiet.
His breathing hitched.
“If I’m not perfect, I’ll just- I’ll just ruin everything,” he whispered.
The words hung heavy.
Jake stepped forward slowly.
“You don’t have to earn your place here,” Jake said quietly.
Niki’s eyes were glossy now, exhaustion finally catching up to him.
“You’re already ours, and we are yours,” Jungwon added.
Heeseung gently guided him to sit down against the mirror.
“You’re pushing yourself like you’re still trying to survive,” Heeseung said softly. “You don’t have to do that anymore.”
Niki’s hands were trembling.
Jake crouched in front of him, brushing damp hair away from his forehead.
“Dance because you love it,” Jake murmured. “Not because you’re scared.”
Sunghoon handed him water.
Jay pressed a cool towel into his hands.
Sunoo sat beside him and leaned their shoulders together quietly.
No lectures.
No frustration.
Just a steady presence.
After a long minute, Niki’s breathing slowed.
“I just don’t want to disappoint you,” he admitted softly.
Heeseung smiled faintly.
“You could never.”
Jungwon squeezed his knee gently. “Rest. That’s an order.”
Niki listened.
And instead of feeling weak for sitting down…
He felt safe enough to.
The studio had gone quiet.
Music off. Lights softer. The mirrors no longer harsh, just reflective.
Niki sat on the floor, back against the mirror, still catching his breath. The earlier tension had drained out of him, leaving him tired in a different way not frantic, just heavy.
Heeseung clapped his hands lightly. “Cool down. All of you.”
No one argued.
They formed a loose circle around Niki without making it obvious. Sunghoon sat to his right. Jake directly in front of him. Jungwon close enough that their knees touched. Jay and Sunoo settled nearby.
“Arms up,” Jungwon instructed gently.
Niki obeyed.
They stretched slowly together in controlled, steady movements. Heeseung guided the pace, voice calm and grounding.
“Roll your shoulders.”
“Breathe in.”
“Don’t lock your knees.”
Jake kept eye contact with Niki through most of it, silently checking in. Every time Niki’s breathing sped up, Jake exaggerated a slow inhale until Niki mirrored it.
When they folded forward to stretch, Sunghoon’s hand rested lightly between Niki’s shoulder blades
“You don’t have to fight the floor,” Sunghoon murmured softly.
Niki huffed a quiet laugh.
By the end of the cooldown, his muscles were warm instead of strained. His head clearer. The frantic edge gone.
Heeseung crouched in front of him again.
“How do you feel?”
“…Better,” Niki admitted.
Jake reached forward and squeezed his ankle gently. “You scared us.”
“Sorry.”
Jungwon shook his head. “Don’t apologize for caring. Just don’t hurt yourself trying to prove something.”
Niki looked down at his hands.
“I’m not trying to prove anything,” he said quietly. “I just… forget sometimes that I don’t have to survive here.”
The room went still.
Jake stood and pulled him up gently.
“You don’t survive with us,” Jake said firmly. “You live.”
this time, Niki let the words settle.
The next practice felt different.
Not because the choreography was easier.
But because Niki wasn’t fighting himself.
When the music started, he moved instinctively fluid, sharp, controlled in that effortless way that had always made people call him a prodigy.
He wasn’t forcing power into every move.
He was letting it flow.
He caught his reflection in the mirror, dark hair framing his face, confidence steadier now and instead of searching for flaws, he focused on precision.
Halfway through the run, Jungwon called out, “Center looks good.”
Niki’s chest warmed.
At the end of the routine, he was breathing hard but smiling.
Heeseung clapped once. “That’s it.”
Jake walked over, nudging his shoulder lightly. “See? No self-destruction required.”
Sunghoon crossed his arms, nodding. “You were clean. Controlled. You trusted yourself.”
Jay added, “And you didn’t overwork the landing.”
Niki blinked at them.
“You noticed?”
“Of course we noticed,” Sunoo said, grinning. “We always do.”
Niki looked around at them really looked.
No judgment.
No pressure.
Just pride.
“Again?” Niki asked, but this time his tone was bright. Excited.
Heeseung smiled. “Again.”
They ran it once more.
This time, Niki led the energy instead of chasing perfection. When he hit the final pose, he didn’t feel hollow or desperate.
He felt grounded.
Jake walked up behind him and rested his chin briefly on Niki’s shoulder.
“That’s the Niki we know,” he murmured.
Niki leaned back slightly into him, not exhausted just content.
He wasn’t dancing to earn safety anymore.
He was dancing because he loved it.
And that made all the difference.
The venue was massive.
Lights blazing. Crowd roaring. The bass vibrating through the floor.
Backstage, Niki stood in the center, adjusting his in-ear monitor. His dark hair was styled perfectly, framing his sharp features. His stage outfit fit him cleanly, making him look confident and mature.
Jake squeezed his shoulder once.
“You ready?”
Niki inhaled slowly.
This time, the nerves didn’t feel like fear.
They felt like adrenaline.
“Yeah,” he said.
The music hit.
And Niki transformed.
Every move was sharp. Controlled. Effortless. He didn’t rush. He didn’t overextend. He didn’t chase perfection.
He was perfection.
His center part came, the moment that used to terrify him.
He stepped forward.
The crowd screamed.
His body moved like water and lightning at the same time fluid but precise, powerful but elegant. When he turned, hair whipping with the motion, the cheers doubled.
Jake caught his eye during formation change and grinned.
Niki grinned back.
Not survival.
Not fear.
Joy.
When they hit the final pose, Niki’s chest rose and fell steadily but he was smiling wide.
Backstage, the members swarmed him.
“You were insane,” Sunghoon said.
“That turn?!” Jungwon added.
Heeseung just pulled him into a firm hug. “That’s my center.”
Jake pressed his forehead briefly to Niki’s. “You looked so confident.”
“I felt confident,” Niki admitted softly.
And that meant everything.
Later that night, after the adrenaline faded and the staff left them alone, Niki found himself on the rooftop with the group.
The city lights glittered below.
He sat between Jake and Jungwon, knees pulled to his chest, hoodie wrapped around him.
For a while, no one spoke.
Then Niki did.
“Thank you.”
The others looked at him.
“For not letting me ruin myself.”
It was quiet.
Heeseung exhaled softly. “You were never ruining anything.”
“I just didn’t know how to stop,” Niki admitted.
Jay spoke this time, voice calm and steady. “You don’t have to stop alone.”
Niki swallowed.
“I think tonight was the first time I danced because I was happy.”
Jake smiled faintly. “That’s the only reason you should.”
Niki leaned his head briefly against Jake’s shoulder then against Sunghoon’s then just looked at all of them.
“I’m really glad I’m here.”
Jungwon reached over and squeezed his hand once.
“We’re glad too.”
By the time they got home, the energy had shifted from reflective to tired and warm.
Niki showered quickly and changed into an oversized hoodie, this time one of Jay’s.
He padded into the living room, hair slightly damp, eyes softer now that the day was over.
Jay was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone.
Without thinking too much about it, Niki walked over and curled up beside him.
Jay glanced down.
“You exhausted?”
“Mhm.”
Niki shifted closer.
Then closer.
Until he was practically in Jay’s space.
Jay set his phone down.
“You want something, or are you just being clingy?”
Niki mumbled, “Just tired.”
Jay huffed softly but his arm slid around Niki’s waist.
With very little effort, he guided Niki onto his lap. Not abruptly. Just smoothly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Niki settled there easily, knees tucked against Jay’s hips.
Jay looked at him for a moment really looked at him.
“You were incredible tonight,” Jay said quietly.
Niki’s fingers curled into Jay’s shirt. “You really think so?”
Jay tilted his chin up gently.
“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
He leaned in.
The kiss wasn’t rushed.
It was deep and warm, firm without being overwhelming. Jay’s hand rested securely at Niki’s waist, thumb brushing lightly against his side.
Niki melted into it, one hand sliding up to Jay’s shoulder to steady himself.
When they pulled apart, Jay pressed one more softer kiss against his lips.
“You don’t have to prove yourself anymore,” Jay murmured. “You’re already ours.”
Niki leaned forward, resting his forehead against Jay’s.
“I like being yours,” he admitted quietly.
Jay’s expression softened, something protective flickering behind his calm exterior.
“Good,” he said.
Niki relaxed fully then, curling into Jay’s chest, breathing steady.
Across the room, Jake just watched with a small smile.
Because tonight wasn’t about jealousy.
It was about knowing Niki was safe, confident, and loved.
Niki felt completely at home.
The venue was electric.
When the nominees were announced, Niki stood between Jake and Jungwon, hands slightly trembling despite how far he’d come. The lights felt brighter than usual. The crowd louder.
“And the winner is Enhypen!”
The roar that followed was deafening.
Niki froze for half a second then Jake grabbed his hand, squeezing hard.
“We won,” Jake laughed.
They walked up together, bowing deeply. When the trophy was placed in Jungwon’s hands, he glanced sideways.
“Niki,” he whispered. “You should speak.”
Niki blinked. “What?”
Heeseung nudged him gently forward.
The microphone felt heavier than it should have.
For a split second, the old fear tried to crawl up his spine.
But then he looked to the side.
Jake smiling at him.
Sunghoon steady.
Jay nodding once.
Jungwon calm.
Heeseung proud.
Sunoo practically glowing.
Niki swallowed.
“Thank you,” he began, voice steady but soft.
He paused for a minute, then continued.
“A while ago I wasn’t sure if I’d be standing here again. But these members…” He glanced back at them. “They didn’t let me give up on myself.”
The crowd quieted.
“They reminded me that I don’t have to be perfect to deserve to be here. I just have to be me.”
Jake’s eyes softened.
“So thank you, for loving us. And for loving me while I was learning how to love this again.”
The applause was overwhelming.
Niki bowed deeply, stepping back into the group as Jake immediately wrapped an arm around him.
“You did amazing,” Jake murmured.
“You looked so confident,” Sunghoon added.
Sunoo sniffled dramatically. “Why are you making me emotional on stage?”
Niki laughed his smile bright and real.
Within minutes, clips of the speech flooded social media.
“HE LOOKED SO STRONG 😭”
“Niki saying he learned to love dancing again??? I’m sobbing.”
“The way the members looked at him… they adore him so much😭🩷”
“He’s glowing. You can SEE how safe he feels.”
Edits of Jake squeezing his hand.
Clips of Jay nodding at him.
Zoom-ins of Sunoo wiping at his eyes.
Hashtags trended worldwide:
#ProudOfNiki
#EnhypenFamily
#NikiSpeech
Fans didn’t just celebrate the win.
They celebrated him.
By the time they returned to the dorm, the adrenaline had turned into warm exhaustion.
Niki was still glowing faintly from the night, trophy moment replaying in his mind.
He barely made it through the door before Sunoo appeared in front of him.
“There he is,” Sunoo said softly.
Before Niki could react, Sunoo gently pulled him closer by the hoodie strings.
“You were so brave up there,” Sunoo murmured.
Niki’s cheeks flushed. “I was shaking.”
“I know,” Sunoo smiled. “And you still did it.”
He slid his arms around Niki’s waist and drew him in fully, chest to chest.
Sunoo leaned in, brushing his nose lightly against Niki’s neck, scenting him slowly, warmly. Not possessive but Affectionatly
“You smell proud,” Sunoo teased quietly.
Niki let out a small huff of laughter.
Sunoo nuzzled again, deeper this time, reinforcing the bond gently.
“We’re all proud of you,” he whispered against his skin. “But I’m especially proud.”
He pulled back just enough to tilt Niki’s chin upward.
“You looked so handsome. So confident.”
Niki blinked up at him.
Sunoo leaned down and kissed him, soft at first.
Then slightly deeper.
Playful.
Warm.
Teasing in the way only Sunoo could manage.
When he pulled back, he smiled sweetly.
“You’re ridiculously cute when you’re brave,” Sunoo added.
Niki groaned softly in embarrassment, hiding his face against Sunoo’s shoulder.
Sunoo just giggled and held him tighter.
“You don’t get to hide now. Not after that speech.”
Niki melted into him anyway.
Safe.
Celebrated.
Wanted.
And this time
He didn’t doubt it.
The Morning After
The dorm was unusually still.
No alarms.
No managers knocking.
No early schedules.
Just soft sunlight slipping through the curtains.
Niki stirred first.
For a second, he didn’t move just blinked slowly, adjusting to the warmth around him.
Warmth… everywhere.
One arm was wrapped firmly around his waist.
Another hand rested loosely against his shoulder.
Something heavy, probably a leg was draped over his thigh.
He shifted slightly and heard a sleepy hum behind him.
Jake.
Of course.
Niki smiled faintly.
He turned his head carefully. Jake’s face was half-buried in the pillow, hair messy, lips slightly parted. Even asleep, his arm tightened instinctively when Niki moved.
On his other side, Sunoo was curled in close, cheek pressed lightly against Niki’s shoulder. One of Sunoo’s hands was fisted into the fabric of Niki’s shirt like he’d refused to let go during the night.
Somewhere near his legs, Jungwon was curled sideways, and Niki could just barely see Jay’s arm stretched across the blanket from the other side of the mattress pile.
They’d all fallen asleep together after the award show.
No plan.
Just gravitating.
Niki swallowed softly.
Last year, he used to wake up tense.
Waiting.
Bracing.
Now?
He woke up held.
He shifted just a little and Jake immediately made a quiet noise of protest, pulling Niki closer against his chest.
“Stay,” Jake mumbled sleepily.
Niki laughed under his breath. “I wasn’t leaving.”
Sunoo stirred next, blinking up at him.
“Good morning,” Sunoo whispered, voice raspy with sleep.
Niki smiled. “Morning.”
Sunoo squinted at him for a second then smiled softly too.
“You’re still glowing.”
“I am not.”
“You are,” Sunoo insisted quietly.
Jake finally opened one eye.
“Why are you two talking already?”
“Because someone gave an award-winning speech yesterday,” Sunoo teased.
Jake’s arm tightened around Niki again.
“Yeah,” he murmured, pressing his face lightly into Niki’s shoulder. “Our star.”
Niki felt his cheeks warm.
He glanced around at all of them messy hair, half-asleep expressions, arms tangled without hesitation.
No cameras.
No stage.
No expectations.
Just this.
Jungwon shifted closer unconsciously, resting his forehead lightly against Niki’s side.
And Niki realized something.
He wasn’t trying to be perfect anymore.
He wasn’t trying to earn his place.
He wasn’t trying to prove he deserved to stay.
He just… was.
And they were still holding him.
Jake brushed a lazy kiss against Niki’s shoulder barely there, more instinct than intention.
“Proud of you,” he murmured again, eyes already drifting closed.
Sunoo nuzzled closer too, warm and affectionate.
Niki exhaled slowly.
For the first time in his life, he woke up and didn’t feel like he had to run.
He felt safe.
He felt wanted.
He felt home.
And instead of getting up
Niki closed his eyes again.
Letting himself stay right where he was.
Held
They didn’t actually get up until nearly noon.
It started with Jungwon stretching dramatically and complaining about being hungry. Jay followed with a sleepy grumble about someone stealing his blanket (it was Jake). Sunoo refused to move for a solid five minutes just to cling to Niki a little longer.
Eventually though, the pile untangled.
Niki ended up being one of the last to shower.
The bathroom filled with steam, warm water washing away leftover hairspray and exhaustion from the night before. He let himself relax under it, replaying the award, the speech, the way they’d all looked at him.
By the time he stepped out, hair damp and freshly washed, he felt lighter.
He pulled on an oversized shirt, one of the members’, of course and stepped into the hallway, towel still loosely draped around his shoulders while he dried his hair.
He almost walked straight into someone.
Sunghoon.
He was leaning casually against the wall near the bathroom door, arms folded, expression calm but his eyes softened the second he saw Niki.
“Done?” Sunghoon asked quietly.
“Mhm.”
For a moment, neither moved.
The hallway felt small.
Warm.
Sunghoon stepped forward first.
Not rushed. Not intense.
Just steady.
“You looked really happy yesterday,” Sunghoon said softly.
Niki’s fingers tightened slightly around the towel. “I was.”
Sunghoon lifted a hand and brushed a damp strand of hair away from Niki’s forehead.
“I like seeing you like that.”
Niki swallowed.
Sunghoon’s presence was different from the others. Quiet. Grounding. Controlled but always observant.
Before Niki could overthink it, Sunghoon gently guided him back a step, not forcefully, just enough that Niki’s back lightly met the wall beside the bathroom door.
Sunghoon leaned in.
Close enough that Niki could feel his warmth.
“Can I?” Sunghoon murmured.
Niki nodded.
The kiss started soft.
Slow.
Careful.
Sunghoon’s hand settled lightly at Niki’s waist, thumb brushing absentmindedly against the fabric of his shirt. Niki’s hands instinctively came up, resting against Sunghoon’s chest for balance.
The kiss deepened gradually not rushed, but more certain. Warm. Intentional.
Sunghoon tilted his head slightly, guiding the pace, steady and controlled but clearly affectionate.
Niki melted into it, eyes slipping closed.
When they finally pulled back, Sunghoon rested his forehead briefly against Niki’s.
“You did well,” he murmured again. “Not just on stage. With everything.”
Niki’s heart felt full.
Sunghoon’s lips curved faintly.
“And your hair looks good like this,” he added, teasing just slightly.
Niki huffed a quiet laugh. “It’s wet.”
“Still.”
Sunghoon leaned in once more a softer kiss this time, brief but warm before stepping back.
From down the hall, Jake’s voice suddenly rang out:
“Why is it suspiciously quiet over there?”
Sunghoon didn’t even look guilty.
“No reason,” he called back calmly.
Niki’s cheeks were flushed, hair still damp, lips slightly pink.
He felt warm.
Sunghoon brushed his knuckles lightly against Niki’s jaw before walking off toward the kitchen.
“Come eat before Jay yells at everyone.”
Niki stood there for a second longer.
Then smiled and followed.
The kitchen was loud before Niki even made it there.
Jay was already cooking, moving around the stove with focused precision.
“Sit down,” Jay ordered the moment he saw Niki. “You’re not lifting a finger today.”
“I can help”
“You gave a speech yesterday. You’re resting.”
Sunoo was cutting fruit dramatically. Heeseung was taste-testing when he wasn’t supposed to. Jake kept stealing pieces of bacon and pretending he hadn’t.
Niki barely made it to the table before Jungwon gently pulled him down into the seat beside him.
“You’re eating,” Jungwon said firmly.
Niki blinked. “I was going to?”
“Good.”
Jay placed a plate in front of him, extra portions.
Sunghoon slid a glass of juice to his right without a word.
Jake nudged his knee under the table.
Sunoo leaned his head briefly against Niki’s shoulder.
It was overwhelming.
But not in a bad way.
They weren’t hovering because they were worried.
They were hovering because they wanted to.
Niki ate more than usual. Laughed more than usual. Let himself relax into the warmth of their teasing and attention.
And when Jay ruffled his hair on the way back to the sink, Niki didn’t flinch.
He leaned into it.
The practice room was busier than usual.
Other trainees and staff moved in and out. Music echoed from different studios. The air smelled faintly of sweat and cleaning spray.
Niki was stretching near the mirrors when someone approached.
Another alpha.
Older. Confident. A little too confident.
“You’re Niki, right?” the alpha asked, stepping closer than necessary.
Niki stiffened slightly.
“Yeah.”
“I saw your performance. You’ve improved.”
It wasn’t a compliment.
It felt like evaluation.
The alpha leaned in just a little, presence heavy, scent stronger up close.
Niki’s shoulders tightened instinctively.
Before he could respond
A hand slid firmly around his wrist.
Warm.
Steady.
Jungwon.
He didn’t say anything at first.
He just stepped in closer, close enough that Niki felt his chest at his back, grounding and solid.
Jungwon’s gaze lifted to the other alpha.
Polite.
But unmistakably firm.
“We need him,” Jungwon said calmly.
It wasn’t loud.
It didn’t need to be.
The other alpha hesitated firstly, then stepped back.
Jungwon didn’t loosen his hold.
Instead, he gently guided Niki away, hand sliding from wrist to waist, steering him out of the room and down the hall.
They didn’t stop until they reached a quieter corner near the stairwell.
Niki’s breathing was shallow.
Jungwon turned him around carefully.
“Hey,” he said softly.
Niki avoided eye contact for a second. “I’m fine.”
“I know,” Jungwon replied. “But you didn’t look fine.”
Jungwon stepped closer slow enough that Niki could pull away if he wanted.
He didn’t.
Jungwon’s hands settled at Niki’s waist.
Protective.
Grounded.
“You don’t have to deal with that alone,” Jungwon said quietly.
Niki’s shoulders dropped just slightly.
Jungwon leaned in brushing his nose gently along Niki’s temple, then down toward his neck.
The scenting wasn’t rushed.
It was deliberate.
Thorough.
Reassuring.
He let his presence settle over Niki not overwhelming, just firm enough to remind him.
You’re not alone.
You’re claimed.
You’re safe.
Niki’s fingers curled lightly into Jungwon’s hoodie.
His breathing steadied.
Jungwon’s lips pressed softly against Niki’s jaw.
Then closer.
A kiss.
Warm.
Deepening gradually,controlled but undeniably possessive in tone.
Niki melted into it.
For once, his instincts didn’t spike with anxiety.
They settled.
Because the presence holding him wasn’t threatening.
It was his.
Jungwon pulled back just slightly, but not far.
His thumb brushed along Niki’s waist.
“Next time someone stands that close to you,” Jungwon murmured softly, “you don’t freeze. You call me.”
Niki nodded faintly.
Jungwon leaned in again, pressing another slow kiss against his neck, lingering just long enough to leave the faintest mark.
Not hidden.
Not accidental.
Intentional.
Niki shivered but smiled.
“I like when you get protective,” he admitted quietly.
Jungwon’s lips curved faintly.
“Good.”
He rested his forehead briefly against Niki’s.
“You’re not something people get to test.”
Niki’s hands slid up, lightly gripping Jungwon’s shoulders.
“I wasn’t scared,” Niki whispered.
“I know,” Jungwon replied gently. “But you don’t have to be brave all the time.”
He pressed one last kiss to Niki’s lips slower this time
When they finally stepped back, Niki felt calmer.
Centered.
he didn’t feel small in someone else’s presence.
Because Jungwon stood beside him.
And that was enough.
The dorm was unusually quiet for a few minutes everyone had a feeling it was time.
Niki and Jake were sitting together on the couch, Niki curled against Jake’s chest, hoodie soft and warm, Jake’s arm draped over him. Their eyes were half-lidded, breathing slow. Peaceful. Safe.
But the alphas weren’t done.
Sunghoon stepped closer first, brushing a hand gently over Niki’s head. His touch lingered a little longer, scenting Niki subtly.
“He’s ours too,” Sunghoon murmured quietly to the group.
Heeseung crouched next to Jake, letting his scent mingle with Jake’s naturally calm omega smell. “And Jake doesn’t go unclaimed,” he added.
Jungwon moved behind Niki, pressing a thumb lightly against his neck, tracing slow circles to leave a faint mark, a reminder, protective and claiming in a pack way, that Niki was cherished and cared for.
Jay sat next to Jake, leaning in and nuzzling lightly against his shoulder. His hand rested near Jake’s chest, subtle pressure and scent marking him too.
Sunoo grinned softly, pulling Niki’s hair lightly and brushing a hand along his arm, leaving another faint scent mark, playful but protective.
Niki looked up at them, wide-eyed and trembling slightly.
“You… you all-” he whispered.
“Shh,” Jake murmured against his temple. “They’re just showing you we’ve got you. And me too.”
It wasn’t just a statement. It was instinct. Pack energy. Love. Protection.
One by one, Niki felt the warmth and scent, gentle, affectionate, claiming. Not aggressive, just enough to signal: You’re safe. You’re ours.
He melted further into Jake, letting himself be enveloped by the love and attention of the alphas.
And Jake he pressed Niki closer, feeling the alphas marking him as well. Normally so protective himself, he allowed it, feeling grounded, secure, and accepted alongside his omega.
Later that night, photos from the day leaked online behind-the-scenes clips, casual shots of the omegas curled together, cheeks flushed, hair mussed, faint marks visible at the necks.
Fans were ecstatic.
“OH MY GOD NIKI AND JAKE ARE SO LOVED 😭💛”
“LOOK AT THE MARKS 😭 THEY’RE BEING PROTECTED
“ALPHAS DOING THEIR JOB 😭💕 NIKI’S SAFE!!!”
“JAKE AND NIKI GETTING LOVE AND CARE?? I CAN’T—”
Hashtags flooded everywhere:
#OurOmegas
#ProtectedAndLoved
#NikiAndJakeEnhypen
Fans adored the sight, tiny visible marks weren’t scary or threatening. They were proof. Proof that the omegas were safe, cherished, and surrounded by their pack.
Every post, every comment, was about celebrating their well-being. The fandom wasn’t just watching idols. They were celebrating a family.
Niki’s chest swelled quietly as he pressed closer to Jake, feeling the marks, feeling the warmth, feeling the love and he purred softly.
Jake smiled, kissing the top of Niki’s head. “See? You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”
The group arrived at a fan meet event a few days later. Cameras flashed, fans screamed, and the energy was electric.
Niki and Jake walked slightly ahead of the others, arms brushing, smiles soft but steady. The faint marks from their previous cuddle sessions, little nuzzles, playful claims, and subtle hickeys from affection and pack instincts were visible on Niki’s neck and collarbone under his slightly loose shirt. Jake’s own marks, along his neck and wrist, were just as evident.
Fans noticed instantly. Social media erupted:
“LOOK AT NIKI 😭💛 HE’S SO PROTECTED!”
“JAKE’S MARKS ARE VISIBLE TOO 😭 THEY’RE REALLY TAKING CARE OF EACH OTHER”
“OUR OMEGAS BEING CLAIMED AND LOVED 😭💕”
“THE ALPHA/OMEGA ENERGY IS UNREAL. SO CUTE AND SAFE.”
Even the moderators of the event commented online, pointing out how clearly adored both Niki and Jake were, it wasn’t just about looks or performance. It was about their bond. Their safety. Their happiness.
Every photo, every clip of them laughing, leaning into each other, or holding hands brought fans to gush over how cared for Niki was.
Backstage after the event, with the cameras off and fans safely away, Jake didn’t hesitate.
He pulled Niki close, holding him tightly against his chest. Niki leaned into him without hesitation, letting the warmth and comfort envelop him.
Jake pressed soft but passionate kisses along Niki’s neck and cheek, marks that weren’t about claiming Niki possessively, but about ownership in the protective, affectionate sense of a pack. Each kiss was deliberate, visible enough that if anyone looked, they would know: Niki belonged to Jake.
“See?” Jake murmured, resting his forehead against Niki’s temple. “You’re mine. Always.”
Niki’s hands clutched at Jake’s hoodie, heart racing not from fear, but from the overwhelming reassurance and love. He nuzzled back, purring softly, feeling completely safe.
Jake pulled him closer, brushing damp strands of hair from his forehead. “No one’s going to mess with you. Not now. Not ever.”
Niki smiled faintly against his chest. “I know,” he whispered.
“And everyone can see it,” Jake added softly, gesturing to the faint, affectionate marks he’d left proof of care, proof of protection, proof of belonging.
Niki felt warmth flood him in a new way. This time, it wasn’t just safety. It was pride. Pride in being wanted, cherished, and fiercely protected by the people who truly loved him.
Jake held him there for a long moment, breathing steady, scent mingling with Niki’s.
Later that evening, after the fans had gone home and the dorm had finally quieted down, Niki found himself sitting on the couch. Jake was beside him, Sunghoon’s arm draped over his shoulder, Jungwon brushing a hand lightly through his hair, and the others nearby, quietly attentive.
For a moment, Niki just breathed in the warmth of the room, the faint scent of everyone he cared about, the safety he hadn’t felt in so long.
He looked around at them, eyes soft, lips trembling slightly. “I- I just…” He paused, unsure how to put it into words.
Jake leaned in closer, brushing a hand over Niki’s back. “Just what?”
“I- I just want to say thank you,” Niki whispered, voice soft, almost breaking. “ for everything. For making me feel happy. For making me feel safe. For letting me be me again.”
Sunghoon smiled faintly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Niki’s head. “You don’t have to thank us. We just want to see you smile.”
Jungwon nodded, thumb rubbing slow circles over Niki’s shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot. You deserve to feel this way.”
Niki felt warmth pool in his chest. He leaned into Jake, letting his forehead rest against Jake’s temple. “I’m really glad, I’m with all of you. I’ve never felt like this before.”
Jake smiled softly, holding him closer. “You’re ours. You always will be. And you make us happy too, you know.”
Niki let out a soft hum, almost a purr, and rested fully against them. “I love you all for taking care of me. For showing me that I can be happy again.”
The group shared quiet smiles, letting the words sink in. They didn’t need to say anything back Niki’s soft gratitude, the way he leaned into them, was enough.
For once, he wasn’t afraid. For once, he didn’t have to hide.
He was safe, loved, and finally truly happy
The dorm was quiet now. Only the soft hum of the city outside and the occasional squeak of the floorboards from someone moving around.
Niki yawned softly, snuggling deeper into Jake’s chest. The hoodie he wore still carried Jake’s faint scent, comforting and familiar. His hair was messy from the day, and his eyes were half-lidded, already starting to drift toward sleep.
Jake held him close, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “You okay?” he murmured.
Niki let out a sleepy hum. “I’m perfect here,” he whispered.
From the corner of the couch, Sunghoon leaned in, resting an arm across Niki’s shoulders, letting him nestle into that warmth too. Jungwon crouched beside the couch, brushing fingers softly through Niki’s hair, and Jay draped an arm over both Jake and Niki, creating a little human shield around the two omegas. Sunoo flopped down at Niki’s feet, head resting against his legs, keeping the circle tight.
Before long, Niki found himself completely surrounded. Each alpha was quiet, steady, protective, their presence a living, breathing wall of love and safety.
Niki snuggled further, little murmurs of contentment escaping him. “I love you all,” he said softly, voice muffled against Jake’s hoodie.
“You don’t have to say it,” Jake whispered, kissing the top of his head again. “We can feel it.”
Sunghoon pressed a quick peck to Niki’s cheek. “We’re proud of you, always.”
Jungwon brushed a thumb lightly over Niki’s temple. “You’re safe here. You belong.”
Jay chuckled quietly. “And you’re ridiculously cute when you’re all curled up like that.”
Sunoo grinned, poking Niki lightly. “I’m claiming the foot snuggles!”
Niki laughed softly, a sleepy, warm sound, before curling even more into the pile of warmth and affection.
The room grew quiet again. Only soft breathing and the faint hum of the city remained.
Niki’s eyelids drooped completely, and before long, he was asleep, peaceful, safe, and completely at home.
Jake tightened his hold slightly, resting his chin on Niki’s head, whispering softly, “You’re ours. Always.”
And as the omegas and alphas settled into their little pile of warmth, everyone could feel it: love, trust, protection, and belonging.
For Niki, it was everything he had ever needed. And now, finally, he could rest completely safe, adored, and happy.
The rehearsal studio was bustling, music blasting, cameras set up for a live recording.
Niki moved confidently at the center of the formation, dark hair now sleek and perfectly styled. His choreography was flawless, sharp, fluid, and effortless, but this time, there was something different.
He was smiling.
Not nervously. Not trying to prove anything.
Just happy.
Jake, Sunghoon, Jungwon, Jay, Sunoo, and Heeseung were all there, surrounding him with the kind of quiet support that only true pack instincts could give. Their eyes always found him, subtle nods and glances letting him know: We’ve got you.
After practice, Niki wrapped himself in Jake’s oversized hoodie, hair damp from a quick shower, slipping his hands into Jake’s pockets as he leaned against him. Sunghoon ruffled his hair, Jungwon draped a hand over his shoulder, and Jay sat nearby, watching with a soft smile. Even Sunoo bounced around teasingly, but gentle, making sure Niki laughed between stretches and water breaks.
“Look at you,” Sunghoon said softly. “So confident.”
Niki grinned, warmth spreading through his chest. “I really am happy. All of you make me happy.”
Jake pulled him closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “You’ve always deserved to feel like this.”
Jungwon leaned in, brushing Niki’s cheek lightly. “And now you know you’re never alone.”
Niki let out a content sigh, eyes closing as he pressed into the circle of warmth around him.
Later, when they all left the studio, fans gathered outside, excited to catch a glimpse of Niki. Cameras flashed, but instead of nerves or fear, he walked confidently, leaning into Jake’s arm, laughing as Sunghoon and Jungwon flanked him protectively.
Fans immediately noticed the faint marks, little kisses and playful touches from the alphas and went wild online:
“LOOK AT HIM 😭💛 HE’S SO LOVED!!!”
“OUR OMEGA STAR IS THRIVING 😭💕”
“JAKES AND THE ALPHAS TAKING CARE OF NIKI??? I CAN’T!”
“HE’S SMILING SO MUCH!!! THIS IS EVERYTHING!”
Even the old bullying scandal had faded. Now, the narrative was healing, love, and protection.
Niki looked up at Jake, sun shining over his shoulder, hair messy but perfect in the light, and whispered softly, “Thank you for everything. For making me happy.”
Jake smiled, holding him close. “You make us happy too, we love you.”
And as they walked back to the dorm, hand in hand, Niki knew, truly knew, that this was home.
Not just a place. Not just a group.
A pack.