Archive of Our Own

Yechan knew this was all business, or perhaps… all of this was supposed to proceed professionally, as usual. He had been in this professional environment, as a pro-gamer, for at least ten years now. Comfortably nestled in his zone where all his older brothers were at SKT, he had taken a bold (and terrifying, simultaneously) step by venturing to China to carve out a new world for himself. And now, having just returned to Korea in 2025, Yechan felt like he could write his own autobiography about the journey his life had taken thus far.

Though he was now back in his homeland, the place where he was born, where he grew up until at least the age of eighteen, Yechan felt like a stranger in his own skin.

Son Siwoo, his peer from those mischievous days at SKT, was undoubtedly a great help. As fellow omegas, Yechan found immense comfort in Siwoo's guidance, filling him in on all the new information he'd seemingly left behind during his time in China.

Yechan had discovered his secondary gender at seventeen, like most people. Everyone had speculated wildly, perhaps Yechan would turn out to be a Beta. His hyungs at SKT had run through every possibility: alpha, beta, or omega. Yechan himself had joked that he liked himself just the way he was, and if he could choose, he'd rather be a beta.

Not for any particular reason, but there was this one night, when Yechan found himself alone in a room with Sanghyeok, the man two years his senior. For some reason, that night felt incredibly emotional, and Sanghyeok opened up about how, when he first realized his secondary gender was omega, he'd wanted to hide from the world.

He was still young then, and the weight on his shoulders was already crushing. He'd begged management to keep his identity hidden, Sanghyeok wasn't ready to face the whispers about anything beyond his gameplay. But as time passed, he knew he couldn't stay hidden forever. The scent of his pheromones, the telltale signs of heat, these were things he couldn't conceal indefinitely. So slowly, Sanghyeok made peace with everything that had happened and everything that was yet to come.

This was perhaps how Yechan had managed to survive in China. He stayed in regular contact with Sanghyeok, asking about his well-being, how his days were going, and maybe indulging his mischievous curiosity about Sanghyeok's love life. Though even now Sanghyeok hadn't directly revealed who his partner was, Yechan was already overjoyed that his hyung still opened up to him in his own way.

And now, upon his return to Korea, Yechan had to readjust. Though they lived in the same world, it felt as though Yechan had been exposed to something entirely different from what his friends in Korea had experienced.

Bonding with Siwoo became a routine for Yechan during his early days at Nongshim. He was grateful he'd at least chosen a team where his friend, also an omega, was present. Even if Siwoo often seemed to get headaches from Yechan's endless questions and reactions whenever he shared the customs there.

But it wasn't uncommon for Yechan to surprise Siwoo with stories he'd brought back from China, either.

"You guys mark each other in the team?" Siwoo nearly shouted.

The practice room held only the three of them: himself, Siwoo, and Daegeun. Siwoo and Daegeun had originally planned to practice together, and Yechan… well, he just wanted to tag along. Now they were taking a break between drills.

"Hyung? Is it really like that in China?"

Ah… Yechan hadn't expected Daegeun to be curious too.

"Yeah… something like that? At least in my team."

Yechan leaned back against his gaming chair. To him, the LPL was incredibly intense. Maybe Yechan didn't have enough evidence comparing his time in the LCK to the LPL. But at least he knew a thing or two, he still kept in touch with his hyungs at SKT and other friends.

"How could it be that free?" Siwoo asked carefully, tiptoeing around something he perhaps shouldn't be probing.

Yechan seemed to ponder this. What was the reason, really?

According to him, based on what he'd heard about the LCK, the LPL wasn't all that different. It's just that… it had become tradition? Certainly, for alphas or omegas who already had mates, they would only engage with each other. But for those unpaired, it was completely natural for alpha players to offer marking whenever an omega needed it, especially if they were teammates.

Yechan hadn't fully grasped it when he first arrived either, since his language skills weren't yet sharp enough to absorb all the new terminology of this world. Years later, he'd stopped questioning why, even though he was now fluent enough to understand everything his surroundings threw at him.

Yechan simply… followed the customs already in place?

"I don't fully understand it either. But rather than using suppressant patches, we were more accustomed to marking each other. For those without mates, of course. If you already have a mate, even across different teams, they'd still make time for you to meet and mark each other."

Siwoo straightened his back. This conversation was getting interesting.

"Then, are there conditions where an omega has to wear a patch?"

"Perhaps when they're on a team with two paired mates? That's pretty rare, though. I've never experienced it myself, or maybe I just didn't know about surrounding teams."

The conversation seemed captivating enough for the beta in the room, as Daegeun chimed in with his own question: "I don't really understand how omega pheromones affect unpaired alphas. But wouldn't that cause problems? What if they accidentally encounter their mate in the middle of being drenched in another alpha's pheromones?"

Siwoo turned and nodded, as if agreeing with Daegeun's question.

Yechan let out a heavy sigh. "Hah… on this topic, honestly, I agree too. There were a few internal incidents because an alpha player got incredibly jealous when his alpha realized that an omega on the opposing team was his mate. It was chaotic, games were even canceled for three days. But no system changed after that. Marking each other remained the first option for omegas who needed it."

Both of them fell silent after Yechan closed his mouth. Yechan knew that what he'd just said wasn't the answer they wanted—or perhaps it made them even more shocked by the reality of it all.

Siwoo, his mind brimming with curiosity, rolled his gaming chair forward and stopped between Daegeun and Yechan.

"Then… you've been marked too?"

Yechan raised an eyebrow. "Of course? I'm an omega, in case you've forgotten."

"Of course I remember the refreshing apple scent whenever you're not wearing your patch, Yechan-ah. I've remembered since the first time you got it and Junsik hyung chose to broadcast that information across the whole building." Siwoo nudged Yechan's arm playfully.

"He didn't mean to. He was shocked at the time."

"I know."

"Who marked you last on your previous team?"

This question was, of course, one Yechan had anticipated when the conversation veered in this direction. Besides, Yechan had already decided not to hide it. What was the point? The entire LPL already knew, and it was perfectly normal there.

"Xun. The jungler at the time. I was pretty close to him because, well… it should be that way?"

"Oh…"

"What? My answer not satisfying enough for you?"

Siwoo returned to his desk, gathering some trash from his workspace before standing. "No. I wasn't expecting some fantastic answer from you either, Yechan-ah. We've known each other for over ten years. I know you," he said jokingly.

His steps carried him toward the exit, leaving two people still seated where they'd started. He paused before turning back, his expression thoughtful. "Then have you ever been marked by Suhwan?"

Yechan's brows furrowed.

"Why bring up Suhwan all of a sudden?" he asked.

"Just curious. I wanted to tease Minseok with this little fact." Siwoo replied with a small chuckle before walking out to toss the trash, ending their three-way conversation for the day.

Yechan was acutely aware that his body needed to adapt to his new team. At least in China, he hadn't had to think much beyond meeting new teammates. But here, there were countless things to face. Perhaps that's why Yechan hadn't experienced a heat cycle since transferring teams.

Siwoo had noticed this too. Yechan's condition wasn't exactly distinguishable, fortunately? Yechan didn't exactly have a cheerful personality in front of others anyway. So if he suddenly went quiet and lethargic, people would just assume Yechan was in his zone.

And Siwoo was well aware that six months had passed without Yechan experiencing a heat. Okay, maybe at three months Siwoo could still dismiss his worrying thoughts, but every time he tried to broach the subject with Yechan, they either ran out of time or got interrupted by impromptu practice sessions.

Not this time, though.

Siwoo entered Yechan's room, the door slightly ajar. Yechan didn't notice Siwoo's presence as Siwoo caught him clutching at his neck.

"Yechan-ah. This is the fifth time I've seen you holding your patch."

Yechan startled at Siwoo's sudden appearance.

"You scared me. What's wrong?"

"You haven't had a single heat since you joined this team. Tell me what you feel every month."

Siwoo closed the door to his peer's room. Yechan, sitting in his chair, was easily pulled closer by Siwoo, who immediately sat on the edge of Yechan's bed.

"What do you mean?"

"Tell me. You have an irregular heat schedule—you've told me that before. But a six-month absence? I don't recall that ever happening in your heat history."

Yechan felt pierced by the observation. He couldn't escape this conversation.

"Yechan-ah… tell me how you're feeling. You're not comfortable using suppressant patches, are you? Why are you forcing yourself?"

Yechan looked down. Siwoo gently pushed his hands aside. With practiced ease, Siwoo peeled the patch from Yechan's neck, releasing the scent of sweet and tangy apple that quickly filled the entire room.

"Ugh… you're overwhelming me. Is this what you've been feeling all this time?"

Distracted by Yechan's pheromones, Siwoo only then noticed how the skin where the patch had been was red and slightly swollen.

"Hey, Yechan-ah."

Yechan turned toward Siwoo. Siwoo didn't answer immediately but looked around for something. He stood, grabbed a small mirror from Yechan's desk, and held it up to Yechan's neck so the owner could see too.

"Your neck is red, Yechan. And a little swollen? Is that why you keep touching it?"

No. That was the answer Siwoo received when Yechan's narrowed eyes widened after he opened his mouth.

"I—I don't know? I just feel uncomfortable every time I use this patch."

"Don't use it anymore. Not until you find a suppressant patch that works for you."

"But that takes forever? I'd have to go through all the tests… and the results wouldn't come for at least two months."

"I know. So you need another solution. This isn't healthy, Yechan-ah."

Siwoo caught how Yechan's apple pheromones began to smell worried. He reached out reassuringly.

"Yechan-ah. Your body seems accustomed to temporary marking from an alpha that makes you comfortable, at least."

"Don't you have any alpha friends who could help you?"

Yechan's mind went blank. He had friends, sure, but not to the point where he could ask such a favor. Especially if they were on different teams, wouldn't that be burdensome to them?

"I'll… find someone."

Siwoo nodded. "I'll help you if you need me. Keep me posted, Yechan-ah."

Today was jungle-mid practice day, meaning it would only be Yechan, Youngjun, and the Coach in the training room. Technically it was an off day, but Youngjun had begged the coach for extra practice, feeling like his performance was lacking and wanting to put in more work. The coach had asked Yechan if he wanted to join or had other plans. Since Yechan was only planning to spend time at the dorm anyway, he figured it was better to just join practice.

About four hours had passed since they started. Practice had gone smoothly. There were a few things Coach Dandy noticed and had them quickly correct in the next game. The coach mentioned having another appointment in two hours, so he left earlier, leaving the two of them alone.

"Hyung, I'm hungry." Youngjun's voice broke the silence moments after the coach left.

"Would you rather order food here or buy something on the way home?"

Yechan turned to Youngjun. It had been four months since Yechan had met him.

At first, he'd seemed so quiet. Being the youngest in the group, with Yechan being the eldest, Youngjun probably felt an awkwardness even greater than Siwoo's, though Siwoo had a knack for breaking the ice. But with the help of his peer's warm presence, the team atmosphere could easily thaw.

"There's a new gamjatang place near our dorm I've been wanting to try," Yechan suggested.

Youngjun's eyebrows unconsciously rose. It wasn't typical for Yechan to give recommendations. Maybe he just really wanted to eat there since the restaurant opened.

"Sure, hyung. I'll hit the restroom first. You can head down ahead of me."

Youngjun left Yechan behind, unaware that Yechan had ulterior motives for all of this.

Yechan wasn't used to the behavior of this man six years his junior. At first, he'd seemed stiff and awkward around him, but then one day, seemingly out of nowhere, he'd become an alpha who seemed like the steady pillar every omega could lean on.

Like now, as the gamjatang arrived, Youngjun immediately reached for Yechan's bowl, cutting the potatoes and meat into manageable pieces so Yechan could eat right away.

Yechan had thought it might be a one-time thing. But Youngjun did this repeatedly, multiple times a week. Yes, Yechan had been counting.

He was itching to tell Siwoo, and now here he was, sitting on the edge of Siwoo's bed.

"I think I know who to ask for help. For… temporary marking."

Siwoo nearly fell off his chair. "What did you just say?"

Siwoo quickly repositioned himself to sit beside Yechan, his entire body turned toward him.

"Who? From which team? Is it an old friend? Tell me—"

"Youngjun."

Siwoo's mouth hung open. He stopped making sounds altogether.

"Youngjun? Bae Youngjun?"

"Yes, Bae Youngjun. Sponge, if you know him by that name."

"Of course I know him??? Are you joking with me?"

Siwoo gripped Yechan's shoulders. "Why him?"

Yechan sensed something odd in Siwoo's question. He met Siwoo's gaze steadily.

"I noticed how gentle he is with omegas, or maybe with this entire team. What's wrong? Does he already have a mate?"

Siwoo shook his head. "I'm almost certain he doesn't. He only ever stays in his room, and he always gets annoyed when I tease him about which omega he's got his eye on."

"I trust your judgment, Yechan-ah."

Yechan fell silent for a long moment after Siwoo's last words.

"Do you think he'd accept my request? I feel so presumptuous." Yechan looked down.

"We won't know unless we try. I'm sure Youngjun is a good alpha. Except when he's bragging about his height—then I want to toss him into the Mariana Trench."

Yechan let out a soft laugh.

The Nongshim team had just arrived back at the dorm. Fortunately, they'd won today. So the evening atmosphere felt refreshingly light, with each person retreating to their own activities.

Siwoo ruffled Daegeun's hair before disappearing into his room, not forgetting to nag Daegeun about getting to bed early since they had an earlier schedule tomorrow.

Daegeun only nodded, his eyes already heavy with sleep, though Yechan was certain he'd still squeeze in at least two hours of gaming before truly surrendering to dreamland.

Don't even mention Seonghoon, who was the fastest to retreat to his room, drop his things, and head straight for the bathroom without even closing his door room.

Yechan was about to enter his own room when he noticed Youngjun stopping to sit in the common area. His bag sat beside him while his hands remained busy with his phone.

Okay… Was this Yechan's chance? To talk to Youngjun?

Yechan slowly retrieved two glasses and filled them with water from the fridge. At least if his words startled Youngjun, there'd be a drink nearby to prevent any choking, right?

Yechan still hesitated. He stood frozen, a glass in each hand, watching Youngjun from the kitchen doorway.

If he were being honest, Yechan much preferred Youngjun's natural curls to when the stylist tried to straighten them. He also loved how the style of glasses Youngjun wore suited his facial features perfectly.

Hah… How was life so unfair when you had a handsome face and towering height? Youngjun was among the taller players in the LCK, and having a jungler who was that tall often made Yechan feel insecure whenever they stood side by side.

Wasn't Yechan wasting too much time just observing Youngjun from afar?

Yechan walked slowly, settling onto the sofa beside Youngjun and placing the glass of water on the table in front of him.

As if sensing someone else's presence, Youngjun adjusted his posture and briefly diverted his attention to the omega who had just approached.

"Ah, hyung. Is this for me?"

Yechan nodded quietly. "Yes."

Youngjun's reply was a small word of thanks as he reached for the glass and took a sip, just enough to wet his throat. Youngjun returned his focus to his phone before Yechan finally decided to speak.

"Youngjun-ah."

At first, Youngjun only glanced briefly in Yechan's direction. But seeing how Yechan looked… nervous? Made him turn off his screen and set the phone down on his lap.

"Yes, hyung?"

Yechan had no idea where to start. His gaze darted to every corner of the room. No one was listening to them right now, right?

Youngjun simply watched Yechan's fidgeting with patient eyes.

"Do you have a mate?"

Okay. That was definitely the wrong way to start a conversation.

Because the moment Yechan looked up to meet Youngjun's gaze, he saw how Youngjun's eyebrows slightly furrowed. Oh god, had he offended him?

"No! That's not what I meant!", Yechan's hands automatically formed an X sign. "What I meant was— I wanted to ask for your help…"

It seemed like this way of talking wasn't doing him any favors, Yechan…

Youngjun remained silent, watching him. His expression was unreadable.

"I… You know I'm an omega, right? So actually, before, when I was in China, I was used to temporary marking between players on the same team— of course, only with alphas who didn't have mates."

Youngjun was still fixed on him, and honestly, that wasn't helping at all.

"I think because for roughly about ten years I followed that custom, my body got used to receiving temporary markings from unpaired alphas. That kind of thing is completely fine because it actually helps an omega during heat when they still don't have a mate. At least when experiencing heat, the pain isn't as bad as when an omega only uses regular suppressant patches… At least that's what I've experienced all this time…"

Yechan stopped. He was struggling to find the right words to say next, because the next sentence was an invitation to Youngjun.

Seeing how Yechan fell silent and his hands grew restless, Youngjun unconsciously reached out and held them, as if grounding him.

"And then?"

Yechan looked up. Okay, he had to do this.

"I… want to ask for your help. To give me temporary marking every week. Of course, only if you don't mind and I'm not bothering you and I'm not making things difficult for you and you don't already have a mate. I know it's incredibly rude, I'm being so selfish, but maybe you could—"

"I'm willing."

Yechan's hands tightened in Youngjun's grip.

"What do you mean?"

Youngjun smiled through his tired face. So sweetly.

"I'm willing, hyung. I want to. To help you. Of course, that's if you also want me to help with everything you're thinking about me?"

Yechan felt his face flush. Had he said too much just now?

"So?"

"Yes, of course I want your help. Thank you, Youngjun-ah."

Youngjun didn't answer with words, only nodding. His hand gently stroked the back of Yechan's hand.

"So, shall we do it now, here? Or?"

"My room works."

"Okay, hyung. Let me put my bag in my room first and change my clothes. It wouldn't be comfortable doing this in our sweaty uniforms, right?"

"Yeah."

"Hyung can go ahead to your room. I'll be there soon."

"Okay. And thank you again, Youngjun."

"Not a problem."

He made his way to his room on unsteady legs, his heart hammering against his ribs like a caged bird. The door clicked shut behind him, and he pressed his back against it for a long moment, letting the reality of what he'd just done wash over him. He had actually asked. And Youngjun had actually said yes. The words still felt surreal, too good to be true.

He busied himself with small tasks, straightening his sheets, arranging his belongings, making sure the space felt welcoming. It was a minor thing, but it gave his restless hands something to do while his mind spun with a thousand what-ifs. Would Youngjun change his mind? Had Yechan misread everything? What if this fragile new understanding shattered, leaving behind only awkwardness and distance?

A soft knock at the door pulled him from his spiraling thoughts. Yechan drew a steadying breath before crossing the room to open it.

Youngjun stood in the doorway, his hair still slightly damp from a quick wash, dressed in comfortable clothes that made him seem younger, softer, more approachable. His frame filled the entrance, but there was nothing overwhelming about it—just that quiet, grounding presence Yechan had come to associate with safety.

"May I come in?" The question was simple, polite, leaving space for Yechan to change his mind if he needed to.

"Yes, please."

Youngjun stepped inside, not forgetting to close the door again, his gaze drifting across the room with quiet curiosity. He didn't comment on the space, didn't remark on the posters or the neatness of the arrangement—just moved to sit on the edge of Yechan's bed, his posture relaxed but attentive.

"So," he said, looking up with those warm, patient eyes that always seemed to see right through Yechan's defenses. "How do you want to do this?"

Yechan crossed the room to join him, settling on the mattress with a careful distance between them. The proximity was strange and wonderful, the kind of closeness he hadn't allowed himself in months.

"I suppose we should start with just... getting used to each other's scent," he offered, working through the logistics out loud. "Marking is more effective when there's already familiarity, some comfort established."

Youngjun nodded, shifting slightly closer. "I can do that. Is there anything I should avoid? Any boundaries you want to set?"

The question was so considerate, so careful, that Yechan felt something in his chest ease. "Just... go slowly. Let me adjust as we go."

"Of course, hyung."

The silence that followed wasn't heavy—it was the kind of quiet that held possibility, the space between two people about to cross a threshold together. Youngjun's scent began to fill the room, subtle but unmistakable, the clean, warm fragrance of an alpha making a conscious effort to be unthreatening, to put the omega at ease.

Yechan found himself leaning into that scent, letting it wash over him. It was different from what he'd grown used to in China—more measured, more considerate. Where others had sometimes been overwhelming, too intense, Youngjun's presence was thoughtful. It was the scent of someone paying attention, someone actively trying to make this experience good for both of them.

"Youngjun-ah," Yechan said softly, not quite meeting his eyes. "Thank you. For being so kind about this."

The younger man's hand found his again, fingers intertwining with a casual intimacy. "You don't have to keep thanking me, hyung. I want to help you. That's all there is to it."

And somehow, in that quiet moment, Yechan believed him.

Yechan's hands trembled slightly as he perched on the edge of his bed, his fingers twisting together in his lap like nervous birds. The room felt smaller than it had moments ago, the walls pressing inward as if trying to contain the enormity of what was about to unfold. He could hear his own heartbeat thrumming in his ears, a steady pulse that seemed to grow louder with each passing second, marking time like a countdown to something inevitable.

Youngjun had settled beside him, close enough that Yechan could feel the warmth radiating from his body, but not so near that it felt suffocating. The younger alpha's presence was steady, grounding, a quiet anchor in the storm of Yechan's frayed nerves. He wasn't rushing, wasn't pushing, simply waiting with patient, unhurried calm for Yechan to find his footing.

"Hyung." Youngjun's voice was soft, barely above a murmur. "You're tensing up again. Breathe with me, okay?"

Yechan hadn't even realized he'd been holding his breath. He released it in a slow, shaky exhale, trying to match the rhythm of Youngjun's calm, measured breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. The simple instruction helped, if only marginally.

"Sorry," Yechan whispered, his voice heavy with embarrassment. "I don't know why I'm so nervous. This isn't my first time, but..."

"But it's your first time with me," Youngjun finished gently. "That's different. It's okay to be nervous, hyung. I'm nervous too."

The admission caught Yechan off guard. He turned to look at Youngjun, really look at him, and saw the faint flush coloring the younger man's cheeks, the slight tension in his jaw that betrayed his composure. Somehow, knowing that Youngjun was also feeling the weight of the moment made it easier. They were navigating this together, two people crossing unfamiliar territory with nothing but trust and goodwill to guide them.

"Thank you," Yechan said quietly. "For saying that. It helps."

Youngjun smiled, that soft, genuine smile that always made Yechan's heart flutter. "Then let's take it slow. Tell me if anything feels wrong, and we'll stop. Promise me that?"

"I promise."

The air between them seemed to thicken, charged with anticipation and the subtle shift of pheromones beginning to mingle. Youngjun's scent was blooming now, warm and clean, like cedarwood after rain. It wrapped around Yechan like a gentle embrace, coaxing his own fragrance to respond in kind. The crisp apple notes that had been so carefully suppressed for months began to emerge, tentative at first, then more confident as they found resonance with the alpha's presence.

Youngjun's hand came up to rest on Yechan's shoulder, a light touch that asked for permission rather than demanding compliance. "I'm going to lean in now, hyung. Just tell me if you need me to stop."

Yechan nodded, not trusting his voice. His eyes fluttered closed as Youngjun moved closer, the warmth of the alpha's breath ghosting across his neck. The anticipation was almost unbearable, a taut wire strung between his chest and his stomach, humming with the promise of contact.

The first brush of contact was barely there, just the soft press of Youngjun's lips against the sensitive skin of his neck, right where the patch had been earlier. It was almost chaste, almost questioning, as if Youngjun was testing the waters before committing to anything more.

"Okay?" The question was murmured against his skin, sending a shiver cascading down Yechan's spine.

"Okay," Yechan breathed, surprised to find that he meant it.

Youngjun pulled back slightly, his hand coming up to cup the other side of Yechan's neck, tilting his head gently to expose more of the vulnerable expanse of skin. His thumb traced a slow, soothing path along Yechan's jaw—a gesture meant to calm and reassure, to remind him that he was safe.

"I'm going to try now," he said, his voice low and careful. "You've had this done before, so you know what to expect. But just remember, you're in control here. If it's too much, if you need to stop, just say the word."

Yechan swallowed hard, his throat dry. "I know. I trust you, Youngjun-ah."

The words seemed to settle something in the younger alpha, a subtle tension leaving his shoulders. He leaned in again, and this time when his lips found Yechan's neck, they were more certain. He pressed a soft kiss to the spot where his scent glands were most concentrated, feeling the slight warmth that betrayed the omega's nervousness.

And then his teeth grazed the skin.

Yechan's body went rigid, every muscle locking in place. It wasn't painful, Youngjun was being impossibly gentle, barely applying any pressure at all—but the sensation was so unfamiliar, so intimate, that his instincts screamed at him to pull away. His hands clenched at his sides, his breath catching in his throat like a trapped bird.

Youngjun pulled back immediately, his expression etched with concern. "Hyung? Are you okay? Should I stop?"

Yechan shook his head, forcing himself to relax. "No, I'm sorry. I just— it's been a while. My body forgot how this feels. Give me a moment."

"Take all the time you need." Youngjun's hand found his, squeezing gently. "We can try again when you're ready. Or we can try something else entirely. Whatever you need."

The patience in Youngjun's voice was almost overwhelming. Yechan had been marked before—many times, in fact—but he couldn't remember anyone ever being this considerate, this attentive to his comfort. In China, marking had been a practical necessity, a transaction between teammates performed with clinical efficiency. There had been little room for gentleness, for the kind of careful attention Youngjun was offering now.

"I want to try again," Yechan said, surprising himself with the certainty in his voice. "Just... stay with me. Talk to me while you do it."

Youngjun nodded, understanding flickering in his eyes. "I can do that. Let me know if I need to adjust anything."

He leaned in a second time, and Yechan forced himself to keep his breathing steady. Youngjun's presence was warm and solid beside him, a reassuring weight that anchored him to the present moment.

"I'm going to start now," Youngjun murmured, his lips brushing against Yechan's skin as he spoke. "Just relax for me, hyung. You're doing so well."

The first press of teeth was barely a whisper against his neck, a delicate sensation that was more suggestion than actual contact. Youngjun was clearly being careful, treating Yechan like something precious and fragile—something worth protecting.

"I like the way you smell," Youngjun continued, his voice a low rumble that Yechan could feel through his chest. "Like apples in autumn. It's a good scent, hyung. It's you."

The gentle words, combined with the soft pressure of Youngjun's mouth against his neck, began to have an effect. The tension in Yechan's shoulders eased, his breathing becoming more even. Youngjun's hand was still holding his, a steady anchor that kept him grounded.

"A little more pressure now," Youngjun said, and his teeth pressed down slightly, not enough to break the skin, not enough to leave a mark that would last, but enough to make Yechan feel it. "Tell me if that's okay."

It was okay. More than okay, actually. The pressure was firm but not painful, a sensation that was both foreign and strangely comforting. Yechan could feel his omega instincts beginning to stir, the part of him that recognized this as the care and protection his body had been craving.

"Is this good, hyung?" Youngjun's voice was soft, almost reverent. "Is this what you needed?"

Yechan couldn't speak, could barely form a coherent thought. He just nodded, a small, jerky motion that was all he could manage.

Youngjun's grip on his hand tightened slightly. "Tell me," he urged gently. "I need to hear it from you. That you're okay with this."

"Good," Yechan managed, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's good, Youngjun-ah. Keep going."

The reassurance seemed to bolster Youngjun's confidence. He pressed down a little more firmly, his lips working in a gentle rhythm against the sensitive skin. The sensation was building now, a low thrum of pleasure radiating outward from the point of contact. Yechan could feel himself relaxing into the touch, his body responding to the care being offered.

"I'm almost done," Youngjun murmured, his breath warm against Yechan's skin. "Just a little more, hyung. You've been so brave."

The praise washed over Yechan like a wave, warm and unexpected. He hadn't realized how much he needed to hear those words, to be told that he was handling this well, that he wasn't failing somehow. His eyes stung with unexpected emotion, but he blinked the tears away before they could fall.

The final press was the firmest yet, Youngjun's teeth closing around the delicate skin with a confidence that hadn't been there at the start. It was still gentle, still careful, but there was an authority to it now, a certainty that spoke of the alpha claiming his mark. Yechan could feel the lingering warmth where the bite had been, the faint tingling that signaled the marking had taken.

Youngjun pulled back slowly, his lips brushing against the spot one last time before he lifted his head. His eyes were slightly glassy, his breathing a little faster than before, but his expression was soft and full of quiet wonder.

"It's done, hyung. How do you feel?"

Yechan blinked, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. The world seemed to be coming back into focus, the hazy warmth of the marking gradually receding. He could feel the spot where Youngjun had bitten him, a slight sensitivity that would fade within a few hours. But there was something else too, a deeper sense of satisfaction, as if some need he hadn't even known he'd been carrying had been finally addressed.

"I feel... great," he said, the words feeling inadequate but true. "Thank you, Youngjun-ah. Really."

Youngjun smiled, that same gentle smile that always made Yechan's heart ache. He released Yechan's hand slowly, as if reluctant to let go of the contact. "Anytime, hyung. That's what I'm here for."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of what had just happened settling around them like a warm blanket. Yechan was vaguely aware that his hair had become slightly disheveled during the process, strands falling across his forehead in a way that made him look softer, younger. His cheeks were flushed with warmth, the aftermath of the marking still lingering in his system.

Youngjun rose from the bed, stretching slightly. "I should probably go and let you rest," he said. "But if you need anything, anything at all, I'm just a room away."

Yechan nodded, still feeling slightly dazed. "Okay. Thank you."

Youngjun paused at the door, turning back to look at him. The expression on his face was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes that Yechan couldn't quite name. Something that looked almost like wonder.

"Goodnight, hyung."

"Goodnight, Youngjun-ah."

Everything went well. Yechan was grateful for his decision to ask for Youngjun's help. During the first few weeks, Yechan still often felt awkward, hesitating even when Youngjun's lips were already hovering at his neck.

Youngjun, on the other hand, found something strange about the whole situation.

Of course, he wasn't the type to openly blurt out whatever was on his mind.

The first time he saw Yechan's neck after removing the patch, Yechan seemed uncomfortable because the skin was reddened only in that specific area. But Youngjun didn't ask further. He only instinctively stroked it before gently biting down. He could tell it was uncomfortable for Yechan, every time his warm hand touched that spot, Yechan would tense up.

Earlier, Youngjun had been worried. He'd also often noticed how frequently Yechan would touch his own neck, before they'd made the decision to give Yechan temporary markings every week. The habit hadn't disappeared entirely, but it had lessened, and Youngjun felt a small sense of pride about that. Hey, at least Youngjun was contributing, right?

"Youngjun-ah?"

Youngjun's thoughts scattered as his name was called by Siwoo. He blinked, frowning slightly as he looked at him. "Yes, hyung."

"What do you mean 'yes'? I asked what you're doing after this. You haven't been listening to me at all, have you?"

Youngjun seemed flustered. His eyes darted between Seonghoon, Yechan, and Daegeun in quick succession.

"Oh. Yes. Sorry, hyung."

Siwoo shook his head. "It's fine. Don't space out like that—a fly might fly into your mouth. So? What are your plans after this?"

"I have plans to go out with some old school friends tomorrow. I'll probably be back pretty late. I already told the manager."

The last two sentences seemed directed specifically at Yechan, with how Youngjun was staring intently at him.

"Oh, okay then. I was originally planning to invite everyone for barbecue together. Maybe some other time?"

"Oh! No, it's fine! You guys can go without me. Actually, I'll be having barbecue with them too."

Siwoo clapped his hands together. "Okay! Let's all have barbecue together today, just at different places! Take care, Youngjun-ah. Don't drink too much."

As if offended, Youngjun immediately shot back, "Hey— What do you mean by that, hyung! I can hold my liquor."

"Yeah, yeah, just keep holding onto that handrail," Seonghoon said, laughing as he patted Youngjun's shoulder. Meanwhile, Daegeun and Yechan just laughed from their chairs.

"Ah! Why are you all like this to me…"

Okay, maybe Siwoo had been right earlier. Youngjun returned in a slightly tipsy state, slightly, because he'd claimed as much himself. Pushing open the dorm door to find the place already dark, Youngjun crept in slowly, as if not wanting to disturb anyone's sleep. Unbeknownst to him, Yechan was still awake, sprawled on the sofa in the common area.

Yechan, aware of someone entering the room, immediately sat up to get a clearer view. "Youngjun-ah? You're back?"

Youngjun startled.

His body seemed to lose all stability, almost sending him toppling over. Yechan, slightly panicked, quickly moved toward him. Fortunately, Youngjun managed to stay upright on both feet—barely.

"Hey! Ah, careful."

"Hyung's still awake?"

Yechan's hands gripped Youngjun's arm, trying to help steady him. Lifting as best he could, knowing full well this man was bigger than him. Yechan tilted his head up to meet his gaze. "Not yet."

Youngjun turned, waiting for Yechan's words that still hung in the air.

"I was waiting for you, actually."

Yechan, in truth, had wanted to ask for a temporary marking tonight. It was almost the weekend, and they hadn't done it like they usually did. And with how Youngjun had seemed so confident earlier that he wouldn't get drunk, Yechan had planned to wait up for him.

But tonight didn't seem like the right time. Looking at Youngjun's condition, he couldn't even focus when he looked back at Yechan.

"Ah… Marking?"

"… I'm sorry, hyung."

Yechan shook his head quickly. "What do you mean? Sorry for what?"

Yechan slowly guided his arm toward Youngjun's room, leading him gently while trying to bear the weight of the younger man.

"Come on, I'll help you to your room."

Yechan managed to lower Youngjun's towering frame onto the bed. The jacket he'd already helped remove from Youngjun's body, he folded and placed on the nightstand beside the mattress.

"Your glasses, Youngjun-ah."

Yechan didn't dare remove the glasses perched on Youngjun's sharp nose without permission. His hand hovered, as if asking for them so Youngjun could take them off himself.

But the moment Yechan looked at Youngjun, he realized the younger man had been watching everything he did all along. His eyes were still unfocused, the effect of alcohol, and his face was still flushed pink.

"Youngjun-ah?"

Yechan gasped when Youngjun's arm wrapped around his waist, pulling Yechan, who had been standing at the bedside, down onto the mattress so quickly that his hands accidentally landed on Youngjun's thighs. "Eh-"

Their faces were close. Too close. Yechan could smell the alcohol more clearly than before, mixed with Youngjun's cedarwood pheromones.

"H-hey, what are you doing?"

"I'm sorry, hyung. I'll do it now."

"W-what do you mean?"

Instead of answering, Youngjun's lips immediately found the scent gland on Yechan's neck, making Yechan stiffen for a moment.

No. This wasn't good. Temporary marking when either the alpha or omega involved wasn't fully conscious was dangerous. And Yechan didn't want anything undesirable—for himself, or for both of them—to happen.

"Hey, Youngjun-ah. Stop…"

His hands pushed against Youngjun's shoulders. Weakness spread through him because Youngjun still seemed to be trying to gather his awareness so he could focus on marking Yechan properly.

"I said stop!"

Yechan's voice rose. It rang slightly in Youngjun's ears, breaking his focus. Without realizing it, Youngjun bit down hard on the skin of Yechan's neck. "Ah!"

Yechan winced. His hands pressed firmly against both of Youngjun's shoulders, trying to push him away. They met each other's eyes again. Youngjun's focus wasn't as shaky as before, but Yechan knew for certain that he still wasn't in his right mind.

He let go to touch his own neck. "Don't do this now. You… just rest now. I'm going to sleep."

No answer came, Youngjun had already closed his eyes, a soft snore escaping his lips.

Ah. Youngjun probably wouldn't remember any of this, would he?

Yechan pulled the blanket over the younger man's tall frame, pull off Youngjun's glasses and put it on the table, walked out, and closed the door softly. He didn't realize his heart had cracked just a little that night.

Daegeun nudged Seonghoon's arm, the other alpha on the team, who was making a drink beside him. "Hyung. Do you smell something off in the dorm?"

Seonghoon turned.

"Hm. Mornings can be like that sometimes. I rarely catch Yechan hyung's pheromones because whenever we're all together, his scent is barely noticeable. I think he switched to a better patch."

Siwoo's curiosity was immediately piqued by their conversation. Huh? So it was working?

Siwoo had actually been sure of it, he'd been able to catch that refreshing apple scent coming from Yechan every day ever since Yechan told him Youngjun had agreed to help. But… a few days after their barbecue outing, he'd noticed something different about the jungler and mid laner on his team.

Whenever Siwoo asked Yechan about it, he'd always say everything was fine, of course.

Siwoo really wanted to dig deeper, but he also wanted Yechan and Youngjun to recognize their own feelings and work things out, if there was even a problem, on their own.

Something had shifted in the dorm's atmosphere, and everyone could feel it, even if no one dared to name it aloud.

Yechan had become a master of avoidance. It was subtle at first, the kind of thing only someone paying close attention would notice. He stopped lingering in the common area after practice. He started taking his meals in his room instead of at the dining table with everyone else. And whenever Youngjun entered a room, Yechan would find an excuse to leave, a phone call to make, a shower to take, a sudden wave of exhaustion that required immediate bedrest.

The worst part was how natural he made it all seem.

Youngjun, for his part, was confused. One moment, everything had been fine—better than fine, even. Yechan had been slowly relaxing around him, the tension in his shoulders easing whenever Youngjun's hands found his neck. And then, without warning, it all stopped.

"Hyung, are you free tonight?" Youngjun had asked three days after that night. His voice was careful, almost hesitant, the way he always spoke when he was trying not to spook a deer.

Yechan had been walking past him in the hallway, and he paused just long enough to offer a small, apologetic smile. "Ah, sorry Youngjun-ah. I actually found a new suppressant patch that works really well for me. The doctor recommended it last week. So I don't think I'll need your help anymore."

Youngjun had blinked, processing the words. "Oh. That's… good, hyung. I'm glad."

"Yeah. Thank you for everything, though. Really." And then Yechan was gone, disappearing into his room like smoke.

Youngjun had stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door. Something about that conversation felt wrong. The words had been right—kind, even—but the delivery had been hollow. Like Yechan was reciting lines from a script he'd rehearsed too many times.

Three more weeks passed like that.

Yechan continued his careful dance of avoidance. He was polite, professional, and completely unreachable. The apple scent that had once filled the common areas with its refreshing sweetness was now completely masked, trapped beneath layers of whatever new suppressant patch Yechan had supposedly found.

Youngjun started watching him more closely. He couldn't help it. He noticed how Yechan's hand would sometimes drift toward his neck, hovering near the scent gland before jerking back as if burned. He noticed how Yechan's appetite had decreased, how he'd push food around his plate without actually eating. He noticed how Yechan's smiles never quite reached his eyes anymore.

And every time Youngjun noticed something new, something twisted in his chest. Guilt, maybe. Or regret. He just couldn't remember why.

Siwoo noticed too.

Unlike Youngjun, Siwoo had the advantage of being Yechan's closest friend—the one person Yechan couldn't completely shut out. So when Yechan started pulling away from everyone, Siwoo knew something was deeply wrong.

It took him an entire week to corner Yechan alone.

"Yechan-ah. Stay." Siwoo's voice was firm but not unkind as he blocked the doorway to Yechan's room.

"Siwoo, I'm tired—"

"You're always tired these days. You're also always avoiding Youngjun, skipping meals, and touching your neck like it hurts." Siwoo stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "Talk to me."

Yechan's shoulders sagged. For a moment, he looked like he might cry, or collapse. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Bullshit." Siwoo grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the bed, forcing him to sit. "I've known you for over a decade, Yechan-ah. I know when you're lying. And I know something happened between you and Youngjun."

Yechan's face went pale.

"It's nothing," he said quietly. "He didn't do anything wrong. I just— I found a good suppressant patch, that's all. I don't need—"

"You're lying."

"I'm not—"

"Yechan." Siwoo knelt in front of him, his voice softening. "You're not using a patch. I checked. You still smell like apples—faintly, but it's there. You just haven't been letting anyone close enough to notice. So tell me what happened. Please."

Yechan stared at him for a long moment. And then, finally, the walls crumbled.

"He bit me."

The words came out in a whisper, barely audible. Yechan's hands were trembling as he reached for his own neck, fingers ghosting over the scent gland.

"He didn't mean to. He was drunk that night, he came back late, and I was waiting for him because I wanted him to mark me before the weekend. But he was— he wasn't himself." Yechan's voice cracked. "I told him to stop. I did. But he wasn't— he couldn't hear me. And then he bit me. Really hard."

Siwoo's blood ran cold.

"Let me see."

Yechan hesitated, then slowly tilted his head to the side. Siwoo carefully pushed aside the collar of his shirt and sucked in a sharp breath.

The area around Yechan's scent gland was red and swollen, not just irritated, but visibly damaged. The skin was broken in places, the faint outline of a bite mark still visible beneath the angry inflammation.

"Yechan-ah…" Siwoo whispered. "This isn't healing properly."

"I know." Yechan pulled away, pulling his collar back up. "It's been weeks. I thought— I thought it would get better. But every time I put a patch on, it hurts. Every time I don't, it hurts. Everything hurts."

"Why didn't you tell him?"

"Because it wasn't his fault!" Yechan's voice rose, breaking. "He was drunk. He didn't know what he was doing. And I— I didn't want him to feel guilty. He's been so kind to me, helping me even though I know it must have been awkward for him. I couldn't— I couldn't make him feel like he'd hurt me on purpose."

Siwoo sat back on his heels, processing.

"But it's not just the bite, is it?"

Yechan froze.

"There's something else," Siwoo continued gently. "You've been avoiding him even though you keep touching your neck like you're still craving that marking. That's not normal, Yechan-ah. Omegas don't avoid alphas they're comfortable with. They seek them out."

Yechan's eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"I don't know what's wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you." Siwoo reached out, gripping Yechan's hands. "But I think— I think maybe your heart knows something your head hasn't caught up to yet."

Siwoo watched as Yechan's expression crumbled further, the carefully constructed walls around his emotions finally giving way.

"What do you mean?" Yechan's voice was barely a whisper.

"Think about it." Siwoo squeezed his hands gently. "You didn't just go to any alpha for help. You chose Youngjun. Specifically. From everyone on this team, from everyone you know—you chose him."

Yechan opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out.

"Your body trusted him enough to let him in. And when he hurt you, even accidentally, it wasn't just physical pain you felt. It was rejection. Your omega recognized that the alpha who was supposed to make you feel safe had, even for a moment, failed to protect you. And that's why you've been avoiding him. Not because you're angry at him. But because you're afraid of feeling that again. Afraid of being that vulnerable again."

Yechan's breath hitched.

"That's not... I don't—" He shook his head, but the denial was weak, crumbling at the edges. "I don't have feelings for him. I just needed someone to help me."

"Then why does your scent change when I say his name?" Siwoo asked gently. "Why do your pupils dilate every time he walks into the room? Why do you touch your neck like it's aching for him every single day?"

Yechan's face crumpled. And for the first time in weeks, he let himself cry.

Siwoo held him as the sobs wracked his body, stroking his hair and murmuring reassurances until the tears finally slowed.

"I don't know what to do," Yechan admitted, his voice raw. "I can't even look at him without remembering how it felt. Not just the pain... but the way he held me, the way his hands were so gentle even when he wasn't fully conscious. I thought I was just grateful to him. But I..."

"You're in love with him," Siwoo finished softly. And Yechan didn't deny it.

For an entire week, Yechan still had been a ghost.

Every evening, Yechan would mutter something about having plans, about meeting old friends, about needing fresh air—and then he'd be gone until late, returning only when the dorm was dark and silent.

And every evening, Youngjun would sit in the common area, pretending to scroll through his phone, pretending not to notice the empty seat beside him.

"He's been spending a lot of time with his SKT hyungs," Siwoo had mentioned casually one night, testing the waters. "Sanghyeok, Uijin, Junsik, Jaewan—you know, the usual crowd."

Youngjun had only nodded, his jaw tight. "That's nice. He must miss them."

Siwoo had said nothing more. But he'd seen the way Youngjun's hands had tightened around his phone.

It happened on a Thursday evening.

Youngjun had stayed late at the practice facility, running drills long after everyone else had left. He wasn't sure why—maybe he was hoping to run into Yechan. Maybe he was just avoiding the empty dorm. Either way, he'd finally packed up and headed back, taking the longer route through the neighborhood.

That was when he saw them.

A group of familiar faces—Sanghyeok, Uijin, Junsik, and Suhwan—all walking together, laughing about something. And in the middle of them, with his head tilted back in genuine, unguarded laughter, was Yechan.

Youngjun's feet stopped moving.

Yechan looked… beautiful. Not in the way he usually looked, carefully composed, professionally pleasant. This was different. His eyes were crinkled at the corners, his smile wide and unrestrained, his entire body relaxed in a way Youngjun had never seen before. He was glowing.

And then Youngjun noticed Suhwan walking beside him, their shoulders brushing with casual intimacy.

Something cold settled in Youngjun's chest.

He ducked behind a nearby building before anyone could spot him, his heart pounding for reasons he refused to examine too closely. He waited until the group had passed, then hurried back to the dorm, alone.

The knock came two hours later.

Youngjun was still awake, sitting on his bed with his phone in his hands but his mind a thousand miles away. He heard the front door open, heard the familiar voices of Yechan's hyungs filtering through the walls.

And then he heard Yechan's voice, slurred, giggling, clearly drunk.

Youngjun's feet carried him to the door before his brain caught up.

He opened it to find Junsik half-carrying Yechan, one arm wrapped securely around the omega's waist to keep him upright. The sight of that hand resting so comfortably on Yechan's hip made something hot and ugly twist in Youngjun's stomach.

He knew Junsik was married. He knew Junsik had a mate. He knew there was absolutely nothing inappropriate happening here.

But the jealousy still burned.

"Ah, Youngjun-ah!" Junsik greeted him with a warm smile. "Perfect timing. Yechan-ah had a little too much to drink. We were going to drop him off, but since you're here—"

"I'll take him." The words came out sharper than Youngjun intended. He stepped forward, carefully but firmly pulling Yechan away from Junsik's grasp and into his own arms. "Thank you, hyung. I'll make sure he gets to bed safely."

The other hyungs exchanged amused glances. Sanghyeok's lips twitched with something that looked suspiciously like knowing satisfaction.

"Take care of him," Sanghyeok said softly. "He's been through a lot lately."

And then they were gone, leaving Youngjun alone with a very drunk, very warm Yechan pressed against his side.

"Hyung. Can you walk?"

The smell of alcohol was indeed noticeable, but not that strong. Yechan's eyes were still focused, so Youngjun thought he was still coherent—at least by drunken standards. Yechan nodded enthusiastically, immediately stumbled, and would have face-planted into the hallway wall if Youngjun hadn't caught him.

"Right. No walking." Youngjun sighed, readjusting his grip. "I'll help you to your room."

"I can do it myself!" Yechan protested, trying to push Youngjun's hands away. His movements were clumsy, uncoordinated, the kind of drunken stubbornness that made him seem almost childlike. "Let go, Youngjun-ah. I'm fine. I'm completely fine."

"You're swaying like a metronome."

"I am not—"

"You are." Youngjun tightened his hold. "Stop fighting me, hyung. Let me help you."

Yechan made a frustrated noise but finally stopped struggling, letting Youngjun guide him down the hallway toward his room.

The door clicked shut behind them.

Youngjun released Yechan's waist, intending to step back and give him space, but Yechan immediately wobbled, his back hitting the door with a soft thud. And then he was trapped there, pinned between the wood and Youngjun's much larger frame.

"Hyung..."

"Why do you care?"

The question came out of nowhere, quiet and vulnerable in a way that made Youngjun's heart clench.

"What?"

Yechan looked up at him, his eyes glassy with alcohol but somehow still sharp. "Why do you care so much? About helping me? About making sure I'm okay?"

Youngjun opened his mouth to answer, but no words came.

"Is it because I'm your hyung? Because I'm on your team?" Yechan's voice cracked. "Or is it because I'm an omega who needs saving?"

"That's not—"

"Then what is it, Youngjun-ah?" Yechan's hands fisted in the fabric of his own shirt. "Why do you keep looking at me like that? Like I'm something you want to protect? Like I'm yours?"

Youngjun felt his entire body go rigid.

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken truths.

And then, without meaning to, the words spilled out:

"Is there someone else?"

Yechan blinked. "What?"

"Someone else who can help you," Youngjun clarified, his voice barely above a whisper. "With the marking. Is there someone else you've been asking? Someone who can take care of you better than I can?"

Yechan stared at him.

"Because if there is—" Youngjun's jaw tightened. "If you've found someone else who makes you feel safe, who makes you comfortable, who makes you smile like you did tonight—then I'll step back. I'll leave you alone. I just need to know."

Yechan's expression flickered with something unreadable.

"Just tell me, hyung." Youngjun's voice cracked. "Tell me what I did wrong. Tell me why you've been avoiding me for weeks. Tell me what I did to make you pull away when all I've ever wanted was to be the one you leaned on."

He hadn't meant to say that last part. It slipped out like a confession, raw and unguarded.

Yechan's breath hitched.

"All I've ever wanted," Youngjun repeated, quieter now, "was to be your safe place. To be the alpha who makes you feel protected. But you keep running away from me, and I don't— I don't understand what I did."

Yechan's face crumpled.

"Youngjun-ah…"

"Just tell me. Please."

Yechan closed his eyes.

And then, slowly, the truth began to spill out.

"Remember that night. The one after the barbecue. You came back drunk."

Youngjun's brow furrowed. "I remember. I don't remember everything, but I remember—"

"You bit me."

The words hung in the air between them.

Youngjun's face went pale. "What?"

"I was waiting for you because I wanted you to mark me. It was almost the weekend, and we hadn't done it yet, and I thought— I thought it would be fine because you said you wouldn't get drunk." Yechan's voice trembled. "But you were. And when I told you to stop, you didn't hear me. You— you bit me. Hard. And I couldn't... I couldn't make you stop."

Youngjun's hands dropped from Yechan's waist like he'd been burned.

"No," he breathed. "No, I wouldn't— I would never—"

"I know you didn't mean to." Yechan's eyes were wet now, tears spilling down his cheeks. "I know you weren't yourself. I'm not blaming you. I'm not— I'm not angry at you, Youngjun-ah. I'm just scared."

"Scared of me?"

"Scared of how much it hurt." Yechan pressed a hand to his neck, and Youngjun finally noticed the faint redness peeking out from beneath his collar. "And scared of how much I still... how much I still wanted it. Wanted you. Even after when it hurt."

Youngjun felt like he couldn't breathe.

His hands reached for Yechan's face, cupping his cheeks so gently it was almost reverent. "Let me see."

Yechan hesitated, then slowly tilted his head to the side.

Youngjun carefully pushed the collar aside and felt his heart shatter.

The mark was still there—fading, but visible. A reminder of his carelessness. His failure. He'd hurt the one person he'd sworn to protect, and he hadn't even remembered it.

"I'm sorry," he choked out. "Hyung, I'm so sorry. I didn't— I would never have—"

"I know." Yechan's voice was soft, forgiving. "I know you wouldn't. That's why I didn't tell you. I didn't want you to feel guilty. I didn't want you to hate yourself for something you couldn't control."

"But I should have controlled it." Youngjun's hands were shaking. "I should have been more careful. I should have—"

"Youngjun-ah."

Yechan reached up, covering Youngjun's hands with his own.

"I'm not telling you this to make you feel bad. I'm telling you this because you asked. Because you deserve to know the truth." He let out a shaky breath. "And because… because I'm tired of running away. I'm tired of pretending I don't feel things I clearly feel."

Youngjun's breath caught. "What do you feel?"

Yechan looked at him, really looked at him, and his eyes held no more walls.

"I feel safe with you," he admitted. "Even after what happened. Even when I was scared and hurt and confused, I still... I still thought about you. I still wanted to be near you. And that terrified me more than the pain ever did."

Youngjun's thumbs brushed away the tears still falling down Yechan's cheeks.

"Why?" he asked softly. "Why were you scared?"

"Because I've never felt this way before." Yechan's voice cracked. "Because I don't know how to be this vulnerable with someone and not get hurt. Because you're not just an alpha who helps me with marking, Youngjun-ah. You're... you're everything I didn't know I was looking for."

The words settled between them like a prayer.

Youngjun's heart was pounding so hard he was sure Yechan could feel it through his fingertips. His pheromones shifted—cedarwood, warm and protective, tinged with something raw and aching.

Yechan's scent responded instinctively, apples sweet and ripe, blending with Youngjun's like they were meant to coexist.

"I've been so scared," Yechan whispered. "Scared of losing you. Scared of ruining what we have. Scared that you don't feel the same way and I'm just... just another omega you're helping out of obligation."

"Hyung." Youngjun's voice was firm, but gentle. "You're not an obligation. You've never been an obligation."

"Then what am I?"

Youngjun leaned closer, his forehead resting against Yechan's. His scent softened, the cedarwood mellowing into something almost like comfort.

"You're the person I think about when I can't sleep," he confessed. "The reason I started staying up late, hoping you'd come back to the dorm. The reason I felt jealous when I saw you with Suhwan and Junsik hyung tonight... even though I had no right to be."

Yechan's eyes widened. "You saw that?"

"I saw you laughing with him. I saw how happy you looked." Youngjun's jaw tightened. "And I wanted to be the one making you smile like that."

"Oh, Youngjun-ah…"

"I don't remember that night," Youngjun admitted, his voice breaking. "I don't remember hurting you. But I remember how I felt before I left. I remember thinking about you all evening. I remember wanting to come back to you. And I remember waking up the next morning and feeling like I'd lost something important... even though I didn't know what."

Yechan's hand reached up, his fingers brushing through Youngjun's curls.

"I don't need you to remember," he said softly. "I just need you to know that I forgive you. Completely. And I need you to know that I don't want to run away anymore."

Youngjun pulled back just enough to meet his eyes.

"Then stay," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "Stay here with me. Let me take care of you. Not because I have to, because I want to. Because you're not just anyone to me, hyung. You're everything."

Yechan's breath caught.

He didn't say yes. He didn't say no.

Instead, he let himself fall forward, his face pressed against Youngjun's chest, his arms wrapping around the younger alpha's waist.

Youngjun held him like he was something precious... carefully, reverently, like he was afraid Yechan would shatter if he squeezed too hard.

"I don't know what this means," Yechan mumbled into his shirt. "I don't know if we're ready for— for labels or whatever. I just know that I want to stop pretending. I want to stop hiding. I want to be near you without being scared of getting hurt."

"That's enough," Youngjun promised, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. "That's more than enough. We can take it slow. We can figure it out together. I'll be here, hyung. I'll always be here."

Yechan's arms tightened around him.

And in the quiet darkness of the dorm, wrapped in cedarwood and apple, they held each other.

No promises. No declarations. Just the quiet understanding that they'd found something worth protecting.

The temporary marking had been long overdue.

Three weeks of avoidance, three weeks of tension, three weeks of Yechan's body aching for something it had grown accustomed to. And now, finally, they were here. Youngjun's hands were gentle as they cupped Yechan's neck, thumbs tracing circles over the scent gland that had been so neglected.

"You sure about this?" Youngjun asked softly, his breath warm against Yechan's skin. "We can wait longer if you're not ready."

Yechan shook his head, his fingers clutching at Youngjun's shirt. "I'm ready. I've been ready. I just— I was scared."

"I know." Youngjun pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I'm not going to hurt you again, hyung. I promise."

And then his lips found the scent gland, and Yechan's eyes fluttered closed.

The sensation was familiar and foreign all at once. Youngjun's bite was careful, measured, nothing like that night. He was holding back, making sure Yechan felt nothing but pleasure.

But somewhere in the haze of comfort and warmth, Yechan's carefully guarded thoughts slipped through the cracks.

"I wish this could be permanent," he murmured, his voice barely audible.

Youngjun pulled back immediately, his eyes wide. "What?"

Yechan's eyes snapped open, realization dawning on his face. His cheeks flushed crimson.

"I— I didn't say anything. Forget I said anything."

"You did, though." Youngjun's voice was careful, measured, like he was handling something fragile. "You said you wished it could be permanent."

"I was just— it was nothing. Just the heat of the moment." Yechan's hands flew up, waving frantically. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm happy with how things are. I want to take things slowly. I'm not ready for... for anything more."

Youngjun studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

"Okay," he finally said, his voice soft. "If that's what you want. We'll go at your pace, hyung. Whatever you're comfortable with."

Yechan nodded frantically, relief and embarrassment warring on his face.

But Youngjun couldn't quite shake the feeling that Yechan's words had meant more than he was letting on. Adorable.

The next morning, Siwoo noticed it immediately.

He was making his morning coffee when Yechan shuffled into the kitchen, his hair still sleep-mussed, his eyes still heavy with exhaustion. But there was something different about him, something that made Siwoo pause mid-sip.

"Yechan-ah."

"Hm?"

"Your scent."

Yechan froze. "What about it?"

Siwoo set down his mug, crossing his arms as he studied his friend. "It's different. Usually, you just smell like apples. But now… there's something else mixed in. Something woody."

Yechan's face went pale. Then red. Then somewhere in between.

"That's— I don't..."

"Cedarwood." Siwoo's eyes narrowed, but a slow smile spread across his face. "You finally let him mark you again."

Yechan opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out.

"I knew it." Siwoo practically bounced on his heels. "I knew you two would work it out. Tell me everything. Did you talk? Did he apologize? Did you—"

"Siwoo, please..."

"I need details, Yechan-ah. I've been waiting for weeks—"

"Good morning," came a new voice, and both of them turned to see Seonghoon entering the kitchen, his eyes still half-lidded with sleep. He made a beeline for the coffee machine, barely glancing at them.

And then he stopped.

His head tilted, his nose twitching slightly. "Wait. Something smells different."

Siwoo's grin widened. "Right?!"

Seonghoon blinked, then looked at Yechan. Then back at Siwoo. Then at the hallway leading to the bedrooms. Then back at Yechan.

"Did Youngjun—"

"Yes," Siwoo confirmed gleefully.

"I didn't— it's not???" Yechan stammered.

"Finally." Seonghoon let out a long breath, shaking his head. "Thank god. I was so tired of hearing him play sad breakup songs during our solo queue sessions."

Yechan's blush deepened. "He does that?"

"Every single night. And he never talks about it, but his face looks exactly like a puppy that got left behind at the shelter." Seonghoon shuddered. "It was genuinely depressing."

Siwoo laughed, the sound bright and warm. "I told you. I told you he was miserable."

"You didn't tell me anything," Yechan protested weakly. "You just said he was— that he—"

"That he looked like a lost puppy every time you walked out of the room? Because I definitely said that."

"Siwoo!"

The breakfast table was chaos in the best possible way.

Daegeun had joined them by now, his beta senses completely oblivious to the pheromone shift but his eyes sharp enough to notice the way Youngjun kept sneaking glances at Yechan.

"Hyung," Daegeun said, pointing his chopsticks at Youngjun. "Did you do something to your mood?"

Youngjun blinked. "Why?"

"Because you look happier than I've seen you in weeks. The last time you smiled like that was before Yechan hyung started avoiding you."

Youngjun nearly choked on his rice. "I— that's not— Daegeun-ah!"

Daegeun just shrugged, his expression completely innocent. "Just saying. You've been moping around the dorm like a kicked puppy every night. It was kind of sad to watch."

Seonghoon snorted. "Kind of? He played 'Someone Like You' on repeat for three hours straight while we were duo-queueing. I almost uninstalled the game just to make it stop."

Youngjun's face went red. "I did not—"

"You literally did."

"I was just— it's a good song!"

"It's a breakup song, Youngjun-ah."

"So what? It's still a good song!"

"Sure," Seonghoon said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And I'm sure the tears streaming down your face were just allergies."

Youngjun buried his face in his hands. "I hate all of you."

"No, you don't," Siwoo said cheerfully. "You love us. Especially one of us."

Siwoo's gaze flicked pointedly to Yechan, who was carefully hiding his smile behind his glass of water.

But Siwoo wasn't done.

As if sensing that Youngjun's embarrassment hadn't reached its peak, he casually reached across the table and flicked a pair of chopsticks at Youngjun's head when his younger teammates gaze was looking to dangerous at his peer.

"Ow! What was that for?!"

"Because there's still Daegeun at this table," Siwoo said innocently. "And you were looking at Yechan like you wanted to eat him whole."

"I was not!"

"You absolutely were."

Youngjun sputtered, his face now a shade of red that rivaled a tomato. "I was just— I was looking at his— his—"

"His what?" Siwoo grinned. "His face? His neck? His—"

"Siwoo-ya." Yechan finally intervened, his cheeks equally flushed. "Stop teasing him."

But even as he said it, there was a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. A genuine, unguarded smile that made Youngjun's heart skip.

Youngjun stared at him, completely mesmerized.

"Hyung," Daegeun said, his voice flat. "You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"The thing where you look at Yechan hyung like he personally invented sunshine."

Youngjun groaned, dropping his head onto the table with a loud thunk.

The laughter that followed was warm and easy, filling the kitchen with a lightness that had been missing for weeks.

Yechan watched Youngjun's embarrassed flailing with a fond smile, his heart swelling with something that felt dangerously close to happiness.

"Youngjun-ah."

The alpha lifted his head, his cheeks still flushed. "Yes, hyung?"

Yechan reached over, gently smoothing down a stray curl that had fallen across Youngjun's forehead. "Thank you."

Youngjun's eyes softened. "For what?"

"For being patient with me. For waiting for me." Yechan's voice dropped to a whisper, meant only for Youngjun. "For wanting this as much as I do."

Youngjun's hand reached up, covering Yechan's where it still rested against his hair.

"Always," he promised. "I'll always wait for you, hyung. As long as it takes."

Siwoo watched the exchange with a satisfied smile.

"Finally," he muttered under his breath. "Finally."

Seonghoon nodded in agreement, taking a long sip of his coffee.

Daegeun just blinked, looking between the two alphas and the omega who seemed to have forgotten anyone else existed.

"Okay," Daegeun said slowly. "I don't really understand what's happening. But I'm glad Youngjun hyung stopped looking like someone kicked his puppy."

"You don't even know what's happening," Seonghoon pointed out.

"No. But I can tell it's good. And that's enough for me."

The rest of breakfast was filled with easy chatter and occasional teasing.

Youngjun still couldn't quite believe that Yechan was sitting across from him, actually looking at him with those warm, unguarded eyes. After weeks of cold shoulders and avoided gazes, this felt like a dream.

He kept reaching across the table to touch Yechan's hand, just a brush of fingers here, a gentle squeeze there. Small gestures that said everything he couldn't put into words.

And every time, Yechan's scent spiked with warmth, apples and cedarwood intertwining into something sweet and perfect.

"What are you planning to do today?" Siwoo asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Youngjun opened his mouth to answer, but Yechan beat him to it. "I was thinking we could just stay in. Rest. Maybe watch a movie or something."

Youngjun's heart raced. "Together?"

"If you want." Yechan's cheeks were pink, but his voice was steady. "I mean, if you don't have other plans."

Youngjun shook his head so fast it was almost comical. "No plans. Definitely no plans. I would love to watch a movie with you."

Seonghoon made a gagging noise. "Get a room."

"We literally have rooms," Youngjun shot back.

"Yeah, but you're not using them. You're just sitting here making heart eyes at each other like this is a drama."

Youngjun grabbed a piece of toast and threw it at him.

Seonghoon caught it easily, taking a triumphant bite. "Thanks for the breakfast."

Later, after breakfast had ended and everyone had scattered to their own rooms, Siwoo caught Yechan alone in the hallway.

"Hey."

Yechan turned, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

Siwoo approached him, his expression unusually serious. "I just want to say... I'm really glad you talked to him. I know it wasn't easy."

Yechan's smile softened. "It wasn't. But it was worth it."

"Good." Siwoo reached out, patting his shoulder. "And Yechan-ah?"

"Yeah?"

"If you ever need to talk again, about anything, you know where to find me."

Yechan nodded, warmth spreading through his chest. "I know. Thanks, Siwoo-yah."

They shared a brief, meaningful look before Siwoo continued down the hall, leaving Yechan alone with his thoughts.

He touched his neck, the spot where Youngjun's bite had once been, now fading into a faint scar. It didn't hurt anymore. It hadn't hurt since last night, actually.

Funny, how the thing that had caused him so much pain had become a reminder of something beautiful.

A reminder that healing wasn't linear.

But it was possible.

Especially when you had someone willing to hold your hand through it.