Chapter Text
Jay had known Sunoo for sixteen years.
Sometimes that fact still caught him off guard.
Sixteen years was a long time to know someone. Long enough to watch them lose their baby teeth, grow into their features, graduate high school, and become an adult. Long enough that most of Jay’s memories seemed to have Sunoo somewhere in the background.
It all started when Jay was twelve.
Mrs. Kim had knocked on his parents’ front door one Saturday afternoon and asked if he would be interested in babysitting her son.
Jay remembered being nervous. He’d never babysat anyone before.
“He’s very easy to take care of,” Mrs. Kim had assured him.
Then she’d called for Sunoo. A moment later, a tiny seven-year-old boy appeared around the corner.
Sunoo had stared at Jay for approximately three seconds before his face lit up. “You’re my babysitter?”
Jay awkwardly nodded. “I guess so.”
“Cool!”
Before Jay could say anything else, Sunoo grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the house.
That was how it started.
And somehow, despite all the years that had passed since then, some things had never really changed.
Sunoo had attached himself to Jay almost immediately. Wherever Jay went, Sunoo followed.
If Jay was helping him with homework, Sunoo would scoot his chair closer every few minutes until their shoulders touched. If Jay was watching television, Sunoo would curl up beside him. If Jay was playing games, Sunoo wanted to play too.
Sometimes Jay suspected the younger boy viewed him as some kind of superhero, which was ridiculous. But whenever Jay tried to tell him that, Sunoo would only grin and insist he was wrong.
By the time Jay was fourteen, the Kim family practically considered him part of the household, another son.
And by the time Sunoo was ten, he was more clingy than ever.
Every movie night ended exactly the same way. Sunoo would insist he was tired, then his blinking would get slower and his head would start drooping, and eventually he would fall asleep on Jay’s shoulder. Every time, without fail.
Jay remembered one particular evening when Mrs. Kim had walked into the living room halfway through a movie.
Sunoo had been completely asleep against Jay’s side, the popcorn bowl sitting forgotten in his lap.
Mrs. Kim smiled. “He only does that with you, you know.”
Jay hadn’t known why that statement had made him feel strangely proud.
Another memory surfaced of ten-year-old Sunoo, a bicycle, and a spectacular amount of failure.
“I can’t do it!” Sunoo’s voice cracked dramatically as he sat on the sidewalk. He had already fallen three times.
Actually, four.
One of those falls had involved a mailbox. Jay was still impressed by that somehow.
“You can do it,” Jay encouraged.
Sunoo whined, “No, I can’t!”
Jay sighed quietly. “Sunoo.”
The younger boy looked up. His eyes were watery, his knees were scraped, and his helmet sat crooked on his head.
Jay crouched beside him. “You’ve only fallen a few times.”
Sunoo pouted. “Four times.”
“That’s normal,” Jay assured him.
“It doesn’t feel normal,” Sunoo huffed back.
Jay adjusted the helmet strap, then he shrugged. “I fell way more than four times.”
Sunoo blinked. “You did?”
Jay smiled softly. “Definitely.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
That had apparently been enough, because thirty minutes later Sunoo was wobbling down the street on his bike while screaming Jay’s name every few seconds.
Jay still had the video saved somewhere.
The memories continued.
Middle school.
High school.
Birthdays.
Family dinners.
Sunoo growing taller every year but still never reaching Jay’s.
Then came the day Jay graduated. That memory hurt a little more than the others.
The Kim family came to the ceremony. Sunoo was thirteen then, old enough that Jay hadn’t expected much of a reaction. Which was why he’d been surprised when Mrs. Kim pulled him aside afterward to ask, “Could you talk to Sunoo?”
Jay frowned. “Why?”
Mrs. Kim looked amused. “He’s been crying for almost an hour.”
Sure enough, Jay found Sunoo sitting alone outside the auditorium. His eyes were red and there were clear tear tracks running down his face.
Jay’s expression softened. “Sunoo?”
Sunoo didn’t even look at him when he said, “You’ll leave now.”
Jay blinked. “What?”
“You graduated,” Sunoo said.
It took Jay several seconds to understand, and then several more to not laugh. “Sunoo.”
Sunoo pouted. “You’ll move away and become an adult and forget about me.”
Jay sat beside him. “That’s not going to happen.”
Finally, Sunoo looked at him. “How do you know?”
“Because you’re Sunoo,” Jay said matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything. And apparently did.
Sunoo eventually stopped crying, but only after making Jay promise to call him as frequently as he could.
Jay kept that promise, even after moving out and getting a full-time job, even when life got busier.
Some promises were worth keeping.
Around the same time, Jay had presented as an alpha.
The presentation itself hadn’t been particularly dramatic, just a fever and a few miserable days.
Then suddenly everything felt different, sharper, stronger.
His instincts had settled into place. Especially around Sunoo, because he was still an unpresented pup, and every alpha was naturally protective toward unpresented pups.
Jay never thought much about it.
Of course he was protective.
Sunoo had always been Sunoo. The instincts simply reinforced feelings that had always existed.
Years passed, then Sunoo turned seventeen.
Nothing happened.
Everyone waited, and still nothing.
Eighteen came. Nothing.
Nineteen. Nothing.
Twenty. Nothing.
The doctors weren’t worried. Late presentations happened. Rarely, but they happened.
Still, as the years continued passing, most people started assuming the same thing.
Sunoo was probably a beta.
Eventually, even Sunoo seemed to accept it.
Life moved on, until one Tuesday afternoon.
Jay was sitting at his desk when his phone rang. He almost ignored it, but then he saw the caller ID. It was Sunoo.
A smile automatically appeared and he answered immediately. “Hey, Sun--”
A choked sob cut him off and Jay sat up straight immediately. “Sunoo?”
All he heard was more crying. His heart dropped to his stomach.
“Sunoo, what’s wrong?” he asked.
For several seconds, all he could hear was shaky breathing, then, “Jay…”
Another sob.
“I don’t know what’s happening.”
Jay was already reaching for his keys. “Where are you?”
“At school,” Sunoo replied.
Jay frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“I think…” Sunoo’s voice cracked. “I think I presented.”
Everything inside Jay froze.
Presented? At twenty-three?
“Stay where you are,” Jay said immediately. “I’m coming.”
He didn’t wait for an answer. He was already moving.
The drive to Sunoo’s college felt endless. By the time he arrived, his alpha instincts were running wild with concern, urgency, and protectiveness. Every instinct screamed at him to find Sunoo.
When Jay finally spotted him sitting outside the campus health office, relief hit him so hard it nearly made his knees weak.
Sunoo looked overwhelmed and terrified. His eyes were red from crying and for the first time in twenty-three years, he carried a scent. A genuine omega scent, sweet, warm, and new.
It was also uncontrolled. The scent filled the hallway.
Sunoo immediately looked up, and the second he saw Jay, his shoulders visibly relaxed. “Hi, Jay.”
Jay crossed the room. “There you are.”
Sunoo stood so quickly he nearly stumbled. Jay caught him automatically and the contact seemed to calm him instantly.
“I didn’t know what to do,” Sunoo mumbled into Jay’s shirt.
“It’s okay,” Jay murmured.
Sunoo looked so distressed as he said, “I presented in the middle of class.”
Jay smiled softly. “It’s okay, Sun.”
Sunoo laughed weakly. “You keep saying that.”
“Because it is,” Jay assured him.
Jay stayed with him through everything. The doctor’s appointment, the paperwork, the phone calls to his parents, the endless explanations.
Every time Sunoo started panicking, Jay was there.
Hours later, they were finally heading home. Sunoo sat in the passenger seat, exhaustion having caught up to him. Within minutes, his eyes drifted shut, then his head slowly tipped sideways until it came to rest against Jay’s shoulder, just like it always had.
For a moment, everything felt comfortably familiar.
Then Jay glanced down and really looked at Sunoo. He wasn’t the same seven-year-old boy who had followed him everywhere anymore. He wasn’t the same teenager who cried at his graduation. He wasn’t the same pup he’d spent years protecting.
He was an adult. An omega.
The afternoon sunlight spilled across his face. His features looked softer in sleep.
He was beautiful.
The thought struck Jay so suddenly that he nearly forgot to breathe.
His grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel. And for the first time in sixteen years, something inside him shifted.
Jay looked away quickly, but the thought remained, persistent and impossible to ignore.
When had Sunoo become so beautiful?
________________________
The weeks following Sunoo’s presentation were chaotic and overwhelming.
At twenty-three years old, Sunoo was learning things most omegas had figured out years ago.
Every week seemed to bring a new problem, a new appointment, a new question, a new panic.
And somehow, Jay became the person Sunoo called for all of it.
Not that Jay minded. At least, that’s what he told himself.
The first call came three days after the presentation.
“Jay.”
Jay balanced his phone between his shoulder and ear while making dinner. “Yeah?”
“Is it normal for omega scent suppressants to smell awful?”
Jay blinked. “What?”
Sunoo huffed. “They smell terrible.”
Jay stared blankly at the stove, as if Sunoo could see it. “I have literally no way of answering that.”
“Oh.” Sunoo paused. “I already bought three boxes.”
Jay laughed despite himself. “Sunoo.”
“What?”
“You should’ve asked before buying them.”
Sunoo whined softly. “I know that now.”
The second call happened at midnight, the third while Jay was grocery shopping, the fourth because Sunoo had somehow convinced himself he was defective somehow, the fifth because he forgot the date of an appointment, the sixth because he wanted advice about omega-friendly shampoo.
Jay answered every single call without hesitation.
Eventually it became normal. If his phone rang and Sunoo’s name appeared on the screen, Jay answered, simple as that.
Which was why nobody was surprised when Jay started accompanying Sunoo places, like the omega clinic, the pharmacy, the grocery store, coffee shops, anywhere, really.
The old rhythm of their friendship returned so naturally it almost felt like nothing had changed.
Almost.
The problem was that something had changed. Something huge. Something Jay wished would stop happening.
Because every time he looked at Sunoo now, he noticed things. Things he’d never noticed before. Or maybe things he’d always noticed but never thought about.
The distinction didn’t matter. The result was the same. Dangerous, terrible, and completely unfair.
Sunoo was laughing at something one afternoon while they sat in a cafe.
Jay wasn’t even paying attention to the story anymore. He was too distracted by the sound, the way Sunoo’s eyes disappeared when he laughed, the way his nose scrunched, the way his shoulders shook, and the way happiness seemed to radiate from him.
Jay stared for a second too long.
Sunoo noticed immediately. “What?” he asked.
Jay looked away. “Nothing.”
“You’re staring.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You absolutely are.”
Jay took a large drink of coffee. Sunoo gave him a suspicious look.
Thankfully, he let it go.
Jay did not. Because once he got home, he spent nearly an hour wondering why he’d been staring in the first place.
The answer made him feel sick.
It only got worse from there.
A few days later they were shopping for groceries.
Sunoo reached for something on a high shelf, failed, and looked at Jay. “Help.”
Jay grabbed the item easily and Sunoo smiled. “Thank you,” he said. A faint blush appeared across his cheeks and something warm settled in Jay’s chest.
The realization hit immediately afterward and made him want to slam his head into the nearest shelf.
This was bad. Very bad.
Because he knew exactly what was happening, and he didn’t want it to happen. Not even a little.
That night he lay awake staring at the ceiling.
I’ve known him since he was seven.
The thought repeated endlessly.
He used to fall asleep watching cartoons, he used to cry when he scraped his knees, he used to ask Jay to check for monsters under his bed.
What kind of alpha falls for someone he babysat?
The question haunted him. There was no answer that made him feel better, only more guilt, shame, and confusion.
Jay tried to fix the problem the only way he could think of, with distance.
It seemed logical. If he spent less time with Sunoo, eventually these feelings would disappear. At least, that was the theory.
The theory lasted exactly three days.
On day one, Sunoo called him twelve times.
On day two, Sunoo showed up outside his apartment with coffee.
On day three, Mrs. Kim called.
“Why are you ignoring my son?”
Jay nearly drove into another lane. He really had to stop taking calls like this while driving.
“I’m not ignoring him,” he replied.
He could practically hear Mrs. Kim’s eye roll over the phone. She had sixteen years of experience dealing with Jay’s bullshit. “You are,” she said.
The only excuse Jay could give was, “I’m busy.”
Mrs. Kim obviously wasn’t going to take that. Jay knew this.
“Then why did he tell me you’re avoiding him?” she asked.
Jay closed his eyes. Of course Sunoo had noticed.
The distance experiment ended immediately afterward. Mostly because seeing Sunoo upset somehow felt worse than the feelings themselves, which then created an entirely different problem.
The more time they spent together, the harder it became to ignore.
Jay noticed everything now.
The way Sunoo’s omega scent shifted when he was excited. The way he unconsciously leaned closer during conversations. The way his eyes sparkled whenever he got passionate about something. The way he smiled when he saw Jay.
Every little detail felt like torture, because Jay wanted things he shouldn’t.
And because Sunoo clearly trusted him and loved him, just not in the way Jay wanted.
At least, that was what Jay assumed.
Eventually the frustration became unbearable, which was why he found himself sitting across from three of his closest friends one Friday night.
Heeseung took one look at his face and said, “Oh no.”
Jay frowned. “What?”
“You look like you’re about the confess a crime.”
Sunghoon nodded. “Or declare war.”
Jaeyun pointed at him. “Definitely one of those.”
Jay immediately regretted coming.
Unfortunately, it was too late now. He had two alphas and one beta staring at him expectantly, waiting and definitely judging.
Jay sighed heavily, then said the words he’d been avoiding for weeks. “I think I like someone.”
Silence. Three seconds passed. Then, “You think?” Heeseung repeated.
“You’re doomed,” Sunghoon announced.
“Completely doomed,” Jaeyun agreed.
Jay glared at all three of them. “I haven’t even told you who it is.”
Sunghoon shrugged. “You don’t have to.”
“We already know,” Heeseung said.
“We really do,” Jaeyun agreed.
Jay hated them.
Unfortunately, they were right. Eventually he told them about Sunoo, about the presentation, about the feelings, about the guilt, about all of it.
When he finished, the three of them exchanged a look.
Then Heeseung spoke. “You should tell him.”
Jay immediately shook his head. “No.”
“Why?”
“Because absolutely not.”
Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “Great argument.”
Jay leaned forward. “You don’t understand.”
“Then explain,” Jaeyun said.
Jay rubbed a hand over his face. “He sees me as an older brother.” The words hurt, mostly because he believed them. “I took care of him from the time he was seven.”
“So?” Jaeyun asked.
“So?” Jay stared at him. “Jaeyun.”
Jaeyun looked genuinely confused. “What?”
“I literally babysat him.”
Jaeyun shrugged. “And now he’s twenty-three.”
“That’s not the point.”
“It kind of is.”
Jay groaned.
The conversation continued for nearly an hour. Nothing changed.
His friends insisted Sunoo might like him back. Jay insisted they were delusional.
Eventually everyone gave up. Or at least, they pretended to.
A few days later, Jay and Sunoo were sitting together at a small restaurant after work. Sunoo was halfway through his meal and Jay was trying very hard not to stare at him.
The usual struggle.
Then Sunoo casually said, “Oh, I met someone.”
Jay froze. His fork stopped halfway to his mouth. “What?” he asked, a little disbelieving.
Sunoo smiled. “I was out with Jungwon and Riki.”
Jay forced himself to breathe. “Okay.”
“And there was this alpha.”
Something cold settled in Jay’s stomach.
An alpha.
The words echoed unpleasantly.
Sunoo continued talking, completely oblivious. “He was pretty nice.”
Jay’s appetite vanished instantly. “Oh.”
“We exchanged numbers.”
The cold feeling spread, growing heavier, sharper, and wrong.
Jay suddenly couldn’t hear anything else.
An alpha. Another alpha talking to Sunoo, getting his number, maybe taking him on dates, maybe courting him.
Maybe claiming him.
The thought hit him like a punch to the chest. Jay nearly dropped his fork.
Across the table, Sunoo kept talking cheerfully, unaware of the disaster unfolding inside Jay’s head.
For the first time, Jay was forced to confront something he’d spent weeks avoiding.
Someone else could have Sunoo.
Someone else could become the alpha standing beside him.
Someone else could be the person Sunoo called first.
Someone else could build a future with him.
The realization was devastating. Because Jay suddenly understood something with horrifying clarity.
He didn’t want anyone else to have Sunoo. Not now, not ever.
And that terrified him more than anything.
_______________________
Jealousy was a terrible look on Jay.
Unfortunately, he was currently experiencing it almost full time.
Ever since Sunoo had casually mentioned the alpha, Jay’s life had become significantly worse.
This wasn’t because anything had actually happened. As far as Jay knew, Sunoo had only exchanged numbers with the guy.
That was it. There was no dating, no courting, no claiming, nothing.
And yet Jay somehow managed to imagine all of those possibilities every single day.
It was ruining his life. That was why he made a terrible decision.
He asked his friends for help.
In hindsight, this was his first mistake.
“Flowers,” Heeseung said.
Jay stared at him. “What?” he asked.
“Flowers,” Heeseung repeated.
Jay frowned. “That’s your brilliant plan?”
“It’s romantic,” Heeseung insisted.
Sunghoon nodded. “They’re very classic.”
Jaeyun looked thoughtful. “I like flowers,” he admitted.
Jay should have left immediately.
Instead, against all logic and common sense, he listened.
That decision led directly to disaster.
______________________
Attempt number one was flowers.
Jay spent nearly twenty minutes standing in front of a flower shop trying to decide which arrangement looked romantic but not too romantic.
Apparently there was a difference. At least according to Heeseung there was.
Jay wasn’t convinced.
Eventually, he picked something. Then he delivered the flowers to Sunoo.
The omega opened his apartment door, immediately gasped, and practically snatched the bouquet out of Jay’s hands.
“Jay!” Sunoo exclaimed. His entire face lit up.
For one glorious second, hope appeared in Jay’s mind.
Maybe this would work.
“You’re so sweet,” Sunoo said.
The hope increased.
“You’re such a supportive friend,” Sunoo added.
Jay nearly died.
Friend.
The word echoed through his soul like a gunshot.
Friend.
Sunoo smiled brightly. “I can’t believe you got me flowers,” he said.
Friend.
Jay considered throwing himself into traffic.
Instead, he smiled weakly. “Yeah,” he replied.
“You’re seriously the best friend ever,” Sunoo told him.
The rest of the conversation was a blur.
Later that evening, Jay reported the results and his friends laughed for approximately ten minutes.
Jay considered ending the friendship.
________________________
Attempt number two was also a disaster.
This plan belonged to Sunghoon, which should have been enough warning.
“By him something expensive,” Sunghoon suggested.
Jay frowned. “Why?” he asked.
“Because expensive gifts are romantic,” Sunghoon answered.
“No, they aren’t,” Jay argued.
Sunghoon insisted. “Yes, they are.”
“No,” Jay repeated.
“Yes,” Sunghoon shot back.
Unfortunately, Sunghoon was extremely persistent. Eventually, Jay gave in.
A few days later, he presented Sunoo with a luxury omega self-care set that cost far more than it should have.
Sunoo stared at it, then he looked at Jay, then he looked back at the gift.
“Oh,” Sunoo said.
Jay waited. Maybe this one would work. Maybe--
“You’re congratulating me,” Sunoo realized.
Jay blinked.
“What?” he asked.
Sunoo smiled. “On adjusting to omega life,” he explained.
Of course.
Of course that was the conclusion.
Why wouldn’t it be?
Sunoo immediately hugged him.
“That’s so thoughtful,” the omega said.
Jay sighed.
The expensive gift joined the flowers in the growing graveyard of failed confessions.
______________________
Attempt number three was Jaeyun’s idea.
It was arguably the worst one yet.
“You need to be protective,” Jaeyun said.
Jay stared at him. “I am protective,” he replied.
“No, be more protective,” Jaeyun told him.
“How?” Jay asked.
Jaeyun grinned. “Carry his bags.”
Jay wanted to leave. Instead, because apparently he’d lost all survival instincts, he tried it.
The opportunity arrived during a shopping trip.
Sunoo reached for one of the bags and Jay took it before he could.
“I’ll carry those,” Jay said.
Sunoo blinked. “Oh.”
Jay took another bag. “And those.”
Sunoo blinked again.
“And those too,” Jay continued.
Sunoo looked confused. That seemed like a promising sign.
Then Sunoo smiled. “Why are you saying it?”
Jay froze. “What?”
“You’ve been carrying my bags for me since I was seven. You don’t have to tell me you’re going to,” Sunoo reminded him.
Jay’s soul exited his body while Sunoo happily continued walking.
He was completely oblivious.
Jay seriously considered abandoning his friends to wolves.
___________________
Attempt number four was the final disaster.
It was a catastrophe. An event that should probably be studied by historians.
This particular idea belonged to Heeseung again.
“I’ve got it,” Heeseung declared.
Jay was already suspicious.
“You said that last time,” Jay reminded him.
“This is different,” Heeseung insisted.
Jay shook his head. “No.”
“It is,” Heeseung argued.
“No,” Jay repeated.
“It is,” Heeseung said again.
Against all reason, Jay eventually agreed. Mostly because desperation was beginning to outweigh intelligence.
The plan involved an elaborate dinner. There would be candles, fancy food, a nice restaurant, the whole romantic setup.
Even Jay had to admit it looked romantic. For once, there was no way Sunoo could misunderstand.
There was absolutely no way.
Which, of course, meant everything immediately went wrong.
The evening started well enough.
Sunoo arrived looking so unfairly beautiful that Jay almost forgot how to speak.
Then they sat down. They ordered food and started talking.
And within ten minutes, Sunoo said, “So the alpha called me yesterday.”
Jay nearly choked.
The alpha. Of course.
Why wouldn’t the alpha appear in their conversation.
Sunoo continued happily.
“He’s actually pretty nice,” the omega said.
Jay smiled. Or at least, he attempted to. It probably looked painful.
“He sounds nice,” Jay replied.
“I think so too,” Sunoo agreed.
Wonderful. Fantastic. Amazing.
Jay suffered through the next two hours.
The entire dinner became an endless conversation about the alpha. They discussed his hobbies, his job, his personality, the messages he’d been sending. Jay learned more about this man in two hours than he wanted to know in a lifetime.
By the end of the evening, he was emotionally exhausted.
The dinner had failed, just like everything else. It had maybe even failed worse than everything else, because now Jay was more convinced than ever that Sunoo didn’t feel the same way.
If he did, surely he wouldn’t spend an entire romantic dinner talking about another alpha.
Right?
The logic seemed solid.
Unfortunately, it was also completely wrong.
Not that Jay knew that.
_______________________
A week later, Jay was walking toward his car after work when two figures suddenly stepped into his path.
It was Jungwon and Riki.
Jay immediately knew this wasn’t going to be good. The two omegas looked irritated. They looked very irritated.
“Uh,” Jay murmured.
Jay glanced between them.
“Hi?” he greeted.
Jungwon crossed his arms. “We need to talk,” he said.
Riki nodded. “This is an intervention.”
Jay’s stomach dropped. “That sounds threatening.”
“Because it is,” Jungwon said.
Five minutes later, they were sitting at a nearby cafe. Jay regretted every decision that brought him here.
Jungwon leaned forward. “When exactly are you planning to tell Sunoo you like him?”
Jay nearly inhaled his drink.
“What?” he choked out.
“Oh my god,” Riki muttered. “He really thinks he’s being subtle.”
“I am being subtle,” Jay argued.
Jungwon shook his head. “That’s the problem.”
Jay pointed at himself. “How did you know?”
Jungwon looked offended. “We have eyes,” he said.
Riki nodded. “And brains.”
Jay buried his face in his hands.
This was a nightmare. An actual nightmare.
“Sunoo doesn’t know,” Jay insisted.
Both omegas immediately groaned, loudly, publicly, without shame.
“Of course he doesn’t know,” Jungwon said. “He’s the most oblivious person I’ve ever known.”
“Painfully oblivious,” Riki agreed.
Jay slowly lowered his hands.
“What?” he asked.
Jungwon looked seconds away from committing a crime.
“Jay,” he said. “You bought him flowers.”
“Yes,” Jay answered.
“You’ve been buying him things,” Jungwon continued.
Jay nodded.
“You carry his bags,” Jungwon said.
“You’ve been taking care of him for sixteen years,” Riki finished for him.
Jay blinked. Then he blinked again. Slowly, understanding dawned.
“Oh,” Jay said.
“Oh?” Jungwon repeated.
“OH?” Riki echoed.
Jay felt sick, because suddenly it made sense. Every failed confession, every misunderstanding, every disaster.
None of them had seemed romantic to Sunoo, because Jay had already been doing versions of those things for years.
Flowers were new. But everything else? Everything else was normal. That was just Jay being Jay.
No omega in existence would interpret those gestures as a confession under those circumstances.
“Oh no,” Jay groaned.
“Exactly,” Jungwon said.
Jay wanted to disappear immediately, preferably forever.
Then Riki checked his phone and his expression changed. “Oh,” he said.
Jungwon looked over and winced at what he saw.
Jay’s stomach dropped.
“What?” he asked.
Neither omega asked.
Jay repeated himself, “What?”
Jungwon sighed then looked directly at him.
“You should probably know him,” the younger said.
Jay suddenly had a terrible feeling.
“Sunoo’s on a date,” Riki said.
The world stopped.
It was a date. Not messages or phone calls. A date with the alpha, right now.
“Where?” Jay demanded sharply.
Both omegas exchanged a glance, then Jungwon named a restaurant. Jay was already standing, already reaching for his keys, already moving.
“Jay--” Jungwon called after him, but he didn’t hear the rest. Or maybe he did. It didn’t matter.
The only thing he could think about was Sunoo. He imagined Sunoo sitting across from another alpha, Sunoo smiling at another alpha, Sunoo choosing another alpha.
For the first time since all of this started, Jay understood something with absolute certainty.
If he didn’t tell Sunoo how he felt now, he might lose him forever, and that was something he couldn’t survive.
His keys were in his hand before he even reached the parking lot. A second later, he was in his car. Then he was on the road.
He drove straight toward the restaurant.
______________________
Jay spent the entire drive panicking.
His hands were tight on the steering wheel and his heart was pounding so hard that it felt painful.
Every red light felt personal. Every slow driver felt like an enemy. And every passing minute convinced him more and more that he was already too late.
What if Sunoo liked the alpha? What if the date was going well? What if Sunoo chose him?
The thought made Jay feel physically sick.
For years, he had never questioned his place in Sunoo’s life.
Now, suddenly, he realized there was no guarantee he would always be the most important person there.
Someone else could take that place. Someone else could become Sunoo’s alpha. Someone else could build a future with him. Someone else could make him happy.
The idea hurt more than Jay knew was possible.
By the time he reached the restaurant, his pulse was racing. He parked so quickly that he almost forgot to lock his car.
Then he looked through the restaurant windows and saw them. He saw Sunoo and the alpha, sitting together at a table near the back. They were talking and laughing and the sight nearly crushed him.
For one terrible moment, Jay almost turned around.
Maybe he should leave. Maybe this was selfish.
Sunoo looked up and noticed something outside the window. Then he smiled. That familiar smile hit Jay directly in the chest.
That was all it took.
Before he could lose his nerve, Jay pushed open the restaurant door and walked inside.
“Jay?” Sunoo said when he finally noticed him.
Jay stopped beside the table.
His throat felt tight, and his heart was pounding. But he couldn’t turn back now. Not after everything. Not after realizing what losing Sunoo would feel like.
“I need to talk to you,” Jay said.
Sunoo’s date frowned.
“We’re in the middle of something,” the alpha said.
Jay didn’t even look at him. His eyes never left Sunoo.
“Please,” Jay said.
Something in his voice must have given away how serious he was because Sunoo immediately stood. Concern flashed across his face.
“What’s wrong?” Sunoo asked.
Everything was wrong, but Jay took two shaky breaths and finally, he started talking.
“I care about you,” Jay said.
Sunoo blinked. “Jay--”
“No, let me finish,” Jay interrupted.
For once, Sunoo actually listened.
Jay’s hands were trembling, but he ignored it.
“I’ve cared about you for years,” Jay said.
Sunoo looked confused for just a moment before that confusion morphed into worry, then back into confusion.
“I know,” Sunoo said.
“No,” Jay said, shaking his head. “You don’t.”
The words came faster after that, like a dam breaking.
“I know I’ve always looked after you and I know I’ve always been protective,” Jay said. “I know none of this makes any sense.”
Sunoo stared at him, completely silent, and Jay forced himself to continue.
“When you presented…” he began.
His voice softened. Everything suddenly felt too honest, too exposed, and too real. “When you presented, something changed.”
Sunoo’s breath caught. Jay noticed, but still, he continued.
“I hated it,” he admitted.
The confession surprised even him.
“I hated it because I felt guilty,” he said.
Sunoo frowned. “Guilty?”
“I babysat you,” Jay said. “I took care of you every day for almost ten years.”
The words finally came out. It was the thing that had haunted him for months.
“I kept thinking about that,” Jay continued.
Every fear, every insecurity, and every doubt surfaced. Jay gave all of them a voice.
“I kept wondering what kind of alpha falls for someone he babysat,” he admitted.
“I tried to ignore it,” he continued. “I tried creating distance, but you noticed.”
A tiny smile appeared on Sunoo’s face despite everything. “You were terrible at it,” he said.
Jay laughed weakly.
“Yeah,” he admitted. He had been very terrible at it.
“I tried suppressing it,” he said. “I tried convincing myself it would go away.”
“It didn’t,” he finished.
Sunoo wasn’t smiling anymore. Now he was simply staring, listening, and waiting.
This was it. There would be no more hiding, no more excuses, and no more pretending.
“I love you,” Jay confessed.
The words hung in the air and the entire restaurant seemed to disappear. For a second, Jay couldn’t hear anything. He couldn’t feel anything except terror, because he had finally said it, and there was no taking it back.
Sunoo looked frozen.
Jay swallowed, then he forced himself to continue.
“I love you,” Jay repeated. His voice cracked slightly on the last word. “I can’t stand the thought of any other alpha claiming you.”
The truth hurt, but it also felt freeing.
“I thought I could,” Jay said. “I thought I could just stay your friend, but I can’t.”
His eyes burned. “I can’t watch someone else have you,” he finished.
The silence afterward felt endless.
Then, the other alpha, Sunoo’s date, stood up, clearly offended.
“What exactly is this supposed to be?” the alpha demanded.
Jay finally looked at him for the first time since entering the restaurant.
The younger alpha squared his shoulders, trying to look intimidating. He was trying to challenge Jay.
Trying was the key word there.
Jay simply stared and suddenly understood why Jungwon hadn’t seemed worried.
The difference between them was obvious.
Jay was older, stronger, and more experienced. And at the moment, he was operating entirely on pure instinct.
Every protective urge he possessed was focused entirely on Sunoo.
The younger alpha seemed to realize it too, especially when he noticed the way Sunoo was looking at Jay. He was annoyed, uncomfortable, or angry. There was only something hopeful in his eyes.
The alpha’s expression shifted. Then he sighed.
“Oh,” the alpha said.
Understanding dawned slowly and painfully on his face.
He looked at Sunoo. “Right,” he said.
Sunoo looked guilty and the alpha laughed softly.
“You were never actually interested in me, were you?” the alpha asked.
Sunoo opened his mouth and closed it again because what could he say? The answer was obvious.
The alpha shook his head, then he looked at Jay. “Good luck.”
The alpha grabbed his jacket and left. Just like that, he left Jay and Sunoo alone.
The moment the door closed behind him, reality came crashing back.
Jay’s stomach dropped. Now came the part he’d been dreading, the part where Sunoo rejected him.
Slowly, he looked at Sunoo and immediately froze because Sunoo was crying.
“Oh my god,” Jay said. Panic flooded him. “Sunoo.”
Tears streamed down the omega’s face, prompting Jay to immediately step forward, every instinct in him screaming at him to comfort his omega.
“Sunoo, I’m sorry,” Jay said.
“What?” Sunoo asked.
“If I made you uncomfortable--” Jay began.
“What?” Sunoo interrupted.
“Or upset--” Jay continued.
Sunoo shook his head. “Jay.”
Sunoo laughed through his tears, then he grabbed the front of Jay’s shirt.
“You idiot,” Sunoo said.
Jay stared. “What?”
“You absolute idiot,” Sunoo said.
The tears kept falling, but now Sunoo was smiling too. And Jay was more confused than ever.
“What is happening?” Jay asked.
“I’ve wanted you for months,” Sunoo confessed.
Jay nearly stopped breathing. “What?”
Sunoo rolled his eyes.
Months. The word echoed through Jay’s head. Months had passed.
“I thought it was obvious,” Sunoo said.
“It wasn’t,” Jay replied.
“Well, it should’ve been,” Sunoo insisted.
Jay stared, then he pointed at himself. “Me?” he asked.
“Yes, you,” Sunoo answered, as if Jay was a moron.
Sunoo then looked offended. “I kept waiting.”
“For what?” Jay asked.
“For you realize I wasn’t seven years old anymore,” Sunoo replied.
Jay felt something painful twist in his chest.
“Sunoo…” Jay murmured.
The omega laughed weakly.
“You babysat me,” he said.
“Exactly,” Jay replied.
“You took care of me,” Sunoo continued.
“Exactly,” Jay repeated.
“You’ve always protected me,” Sunoo said.
“Yes?” Jay said, getting a little confused again.
Sunoo threw his hands in the air. “So how was I supposed to think you’d ever look at me that way?”
Jay opened his mouth but closed it again with nothing to say, because honestly that was fair.
“I even went on this date because I was trying to move on,” Sunoo admitted.
The confession hurt, mostly because it could very well have worked. If Jay had waited any longer, it might have succeeded. If Jungwon and Riki hadn’t intervened, things could have turned out very differently. If he’d let fear win, he would have lost his chance.
He could have lost this. He could have lost Sunoo.
The realization made him feel sick.
So instead, he reached out. He moved carefully and slowly, but he had nothing to worry about when Sunoo immediately took his hand.
The contact felt right. It felt natural, like something that should have happened a long time ago.
“I’m sorry,” Jay said.
Sunoo squeezed his fingers. “For what?”
“For taking so long,” Jay replied.
That earned him a laugh.
“You’re definitely sorry,” Sunoo teased.
Jay smiled.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The noise of the restaurant faded into the background.
“I’ll never see you as that little kid again,” Jay said.
Sunoo’s expression softened.
Jay meant every word.
“I know who you are,” he continued.
Sunoo was not a child. He was not a pup that needed babysitting.
He was simply Sunoo, the person Jay loved. The person he wanted beside him.
For the first time, there was no guilt attached to the thought. There was only certainty.
Sunoo stepped closer, a smile tugging at his lips.
“It only took you sixteen years,” Sunoo teased.
Jay groaned. “Please don’t start,” he pleaded.
“Oh, I’m definitely starting,” Sunoo said cheekily.
“Sunoo,” Jay warned.
“You bought me flowers,” Sunoo reminded him.
Jay covered his face. “Oh my god.”
“You looked terrified the entire time,” Sunoo continued.
“Please stop,” Jay begged.
“Now that I look back at it, you were so obvious,” Sunoo said.
“I was not,” Jay argued.
“You absolutely were,” Sunoo insisted.
Jay’s face felt like it was on fire, but Sunoo looked delighted, which was worth the embarrassment.
After a moment, the omega’s teasing faded into something softer.
“So,” Sunoo said.
Jay looked up. “So?” he replied.
Sunoo smiled the same beautiful smile that Jay had always loved. It made Jay’s heart skip.
“Are you going to court me properly this time?” Sunoo asked.
Jay didn’t even hesitate when he said, “Absolutely.”
The smile that followed was brighter than anything Jay had ever seen.
And for the first time in months, everything finally felt right.
Things were not perfect, and they weren’t even close to being finished. They were just beginning.
That was exactly the way it should be.