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Suhwan had never had much trouble with his ruts. His cycle was remarkably consistent, rarely shifting no matter how the season played out or how packed the international schedule got. His body seemed to keep track of the dates all on its own. About three days before a rut, he would get a little more sensitive, and the pheromones he normally kept well under control would start slipping out now and then. The rut itself would last around ten days. The first two or three were the worst, but after that, aside from a mild fever and stronger pheromones than usual, he could mostly go about his day as normal. Suppressants worked well on him, too. If a rut happened to overlap with an important match, he could take whatever the team doctor prescribed and still play.
He had never missed an entire scrim because of a rut or locked himself away in a hotel room and stopped answering his phone. The expected dates were always marked on his condition chart, and even the team’s medical staff rarely had reason to worry about his cycle. The only time Suhwan became noticeably different was during those three days beforehand. He got quieter, became more sensitive to little noises, and sometimes let pheromones slip without realizing it. Minseok usually noticed first. As Suhwan’s bot-lane partner, he spent most of the day beside him anyway. “Starts tomorrow, right?” he would ask, and Suhwan would give him a vague nod. That was usually the extent of it. This time should have been the same.
But the afternoon before his rut was due, Suhwan did something he had never done before. It started with Minseok’s hoodie, which had been left hanging over the arm of a sofa. He had worn it to the practice room and taken it off when he got warm. Normally, Suhwan would have tossed it back onto Minseok’s chair and thought nothing of it. Instead, he picked it up and stood there holding it for a while. For some reason, he didn’t want to put it down. Eventually, he carried it to the long sofa in the corner of the waiting room and tucked it between the seat and the backrest. The restless feeling that had been bothering him eased a little.
He thought that would be the end of it. Then he noticed Minseok’s neck pillow on the table and brought that over too. Next came the thin blanket hanging over the back of a chair, then the small cushion Minseok had been using behind his back earlier. When Suhwan spotted the plushie Minseok had been hugging most of the morning, he picked that up without hesitation as well. The power bank plugged into the charger didn’t interest him, though. Neither did the team towels. Suhwan didn’t think much about the difference. He simply took the things he wanted and left the others where they were.
Before long, one end of the sofa was covered in Keria’s things. Suhwan rearranged them several times, leaving the middle empty. Without thinking about it, he placed the things that smelled most strongly of Minseok closer to the center. He pushed the hoodie farther in, propped the cushion up and then laid it back down, tugged the blanket into place. Nothing worked. No matter how he arranged everything, something still felt off. The empty space in the middle bothered him most.
Something was missing. Suhwan looked around the room again, but there was nothing else he wanted to add. Not Minseok’s bag. Definitely not his shoes. He knew there was something he needed, but he couldn’t figure out what. The longer he looked at the empty space, the more restless he became. He briefly wondered if he was supposed to sit there himself, but the thought felt wrong as soon as it occurred to him. It wasn’t his place. He had no idea whose place it was, either. He only knew that the space needed to be filled. The certainty of it was strange enough that another wave of pheromones slipped past his control.
“What is this…” Suhwan muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. Had his rut started a day early? He didn’t have a fever, and his pulse was only a little faster than normal. More importantly, he had never behaved like this before, not even during a rut. His ruts had always been something he dealt with on his own. He had never felt the need for someone else, never gathered things together like this only to grow restless because something wasn’t right. This was new. Every time he looked at the empty space, the irritation returned. Something was missing.
Then the door opened. “Suhwan, have you seen my charger—” Minseok walked in, and Suhwan went still.
Found it.
The answer came so easily that Suhwan stopped thinking altogether. The moment he saw Minseok standing in the doorway, the restlessness disappeared. He looked at the empty space on the sofa and, for the first time, knew exactly what belonged there.
Minseok.
Minseok was supposed to be there.
Minseok had no idea what was going through Suhwan’s head. He walked farther into the room, still looking at his phone, and didn’t glance toward the sofa until he noticed his hoodie was missing from where he had left it. He looked around and finally spotted the sofa in the corner. His steps stopped. His hoodie was there. So were his neck pillow, blanket, cushion, team jacket, and even the plushie he had put down earlier. “……What the hell?” Minseok lowered his phone and walked over. He lifted the hoodie, checked underneath it, then pulled back the blanket. At first he looked like he assumed someone was playing a joke on him. Then he seemed to realize that everything on the sofa belonged to him. He turned to Suhwan. “Why is all my stuff over here?”
Suhwan didn’t answer. He walked over, took Minseok by the wrist, and led him toward the sofa before Minseok could ask anything else. The grip wasn’t rough, but there was no hesitation in it either. “Wait. What are you—” Suhwan put both hands on his shoulders and sat him down in the middle. “Hey—” Minseok sank into the cushions. His hoodie was behind his back, the cushion he usually used pressed against his side, and the edge of the blanket fell across his knees.
That was it.
The moment Minseok sat down, everything finally looked the way it was supposed to. The things Suhwan had been rearranging over and over no longer seemed out of place. Even the restless feeling under his skin was gone. Suhwan stood in front of the sofa and stared, strangely relieved.
Minseok, meanwhile, looked thoroughly confused. He glanced at the things surrounding him before looking up at Suhwan. “……What is going on with you?” Suhwan didn’t know. He couldn’t have explained any of it if he tried. He only knew that whatever had been bothering him was gone now that Minseok was there. Without thinking, he stepped closer.
Minseok blinked. Suhwan took another step, and Minseok glanced down at the shrinking space between them. “Whoa, whoa. What are you doing?” He leaned back, only to run into the cushions and hoodie piled behind him. He raised a hand to stop Suhwan, but before he could, Suhwan leaned down. His face was suddenly much closer than Minseok expected. “Wait, Suhwan.” Minseok’s voice came out quieter than he intended.
Minseok knew Suhwan was good-looking. It wasn’t something he normally gave much thought to. They spent most of the day sitting next to each other, and he was used to cameras getting close to Suhwan’s face. It was also perfectly normal for them to sit shoulder to shoulder after a match, looking over the same monitor. But having Suhwan this close, directly in front of him, was different. Minseok’s eyes widened slightly. From here, the shape of Suhwan’s eyes, the straight line of his brows, and the bridge of his nose stood out more clearly than usual. For a moment, Minseok forgot he was supposed to push him away.
Then he noticed the scent. Minseok held his breath without meaning to. He had never smelled Suhwan’s alpha pheromones this clearly before. Even after months of playing together in the bot lane, Suhwan had always kept them tightly under control. They occasionally slipped during the few days before his rut, but never enough for Minseok to make out the scent itself.
The scent was colder than Minseok expected. It wasn’t damp or fresh like a forest after rain. It was dry and cool, like somewhere deep in the woods where sunlight barely reached, with the smell of old bark and something faintly sharp underneath. It wasn’t particularly soft or comforting. Minseok looked at Suhwan’s face again and thought, It suits him.
Suhwan moved a little closer. Minseok’s heart gave a sudden hard beat. Suhwan wasn’t smiling or trying to tease him. There was no sign that he was doing any of this to get a reaction. If anything, he looked like he had no idea what he was doing.
Suhwan’s attention shifted briefly to the things around Minseok. His eyes moved over the hoodie, the blanket, and the cushion before returning to Minseok, and his pheromones suddenly grew stronger. Normally, he would have pulled them back immediately. This time, he didn’t. The cool forest scent settled over the hoodie, the blanket, and the cushions, then slowly reached Minseok himself, clinging to his shoulders and hair.
“What’s with you?” Minseok put a hand on Suhwan’s shoulder. He had meant to push him away, but he didn’t. His hand simply stayed there. Suhwan glanced down at it before looking back at Minseok. The pheromones that had been drifting through the waiting room were now concentrated around the sofa. Suhwan seemed calmer, too. He simply stood there, far too close, looking down at him.
Minseok looked at the things surrounding him again. His hoodie. His blanket. His neck pillow. His cushion. His plushie. Everything there smelled like him, and now Suhwan’s pheromones were settling over all of it.
Minseok went still.
No way.
He looked up at Suhwan again. Suhwan still seemed completely unaware of what he had done. He was simply standing there, finally at ease now that Minseok was sitting in the middle of his things and Suhwan’s scent had spread over everything around him. For the first time, Suhwan’s usually uneventful rut was causing trouble, and Suhwan himself seemed to be the only one who hadn’t noticed.
The door opened. “Minseok.” Sanghyeok stepped into the room and stopped. Minseok turned, and their eyes met. For a moment, neither of them said anything. Sanghyeok looked at Minseok, then Suhwan, then the sofa. Minseok was sitting in the middle of a pile of his own belongings. Suhwan was standing right in front of him, much too close, and the room was filled with far more of Suhwan’s pheromones than usual. Sanghyeok raised one eyebrow slightly.
“Hyung.” Minseok stared at him. Sanghyeok looked at the two of them for another second, then quietly took a step backward. Minseok’s eyes widened when he realized what he was doing. “No, hyung. Wait—” The door closed with a soft click before he could stop him. Minseok stared at it. Sanghyeok had clearly come in looking for him, only to take one look at the situation and leave again without a word.
Minseok turned back around and flinched. Suhwan was still exactly where he had been. Apparently, he hadn’t moved at all while Sanghyeok came and went. The moment Minseok turned, Suhwan’s face was right there again, along with that cool forest scent. “Oh, come on.” Minseok reached up with both hands and squished Suhwan’s cheeks between his palms. “Kim Suhwan. Snap out of it.”
Suhwan blinked at him. Minseok squeezed his cheeks once more and gave his face a small shake. “Suhwan.” Slowly, the unfocused look in Suhwan’s eyes began to clear. He stared at Minseok for a moment, then looked down at the hands holding his face. His gaze moved past them to the sofa—the hoodie, the blanket, the neck pillow, the cushion, the plushie. All of it belonged to Minseok. Suhwan stared at the pile as if he were only just realizing that he had been the one to put it there. His expression changed.
“……Huh?”
Minseok raised an eyebrow. “You good now?”
Suhwan looked at him again. Then he seemed to realize how close they were. His eyes widened, and he pulled back so quickly that Minseok’s hands slipped from his face. “Ah—sorry, hyung.” He took another step back before stopping, his ears already red. “I don’t usually do stuff like this. I don’t even know why I……” He rubbed a hand over his face, glanced at the sofa, and immediately looked away again. “Seriously. I’m sorry.”
Minseok watched him for a moment. “It’s fine. Probably just your rut coming on.” That was the end of it. Suhwan didn’t come any closer again. As the distance between them returned, the cool forest scent around Minseok faded with it, leaving only the faint traces that had already settled into the blanket and the rest of his things.
Minseok watched Suhwan from the sofa. This was what he had wanted, wasn’t it? He was the one who had told Suhwan to snap out of it. He was the one who had thought Suhwan was too close. Now Suhwan was back to normal, keeping the same distance he usually did. Minseok should have been relieved.
Instead, it felt strangely anticlimactic.
His eyes drifted back to Suhwan’s face. A moment ago, he had been so close. Now he was standing several steps away as though nothing had happened. Minseok frowned.
What had he been expecting?
He didn’t know. He reached down and absently tugged at the edge of the blanket across his knees. Suhwan’s pheromones still lingered faintly in the fabric, carrying that same cool, sharp forest scent he had noticed earlier. Minseok’s fingers paused. Then he let go of the blanket and pretended he hadn’t noticed.