below the collar

by cherrari

Summary:

Beomgyu’s insomnia keeps getting worse, and the only thing that seems to help is Yeonjun scenting him. It becomes their little secret, tucked in between their usual bickering and busy schedules. A routine that only they know about.

Until suddenly it’s everybody’s business and then some.

Chapter 1: Yeonjun

Notes:

here are some cute beomjuns to get you in the mood

enjoy!

It starts off as an entirely innocuous gesture:

Beomgyu’s struggled with insomnia despite the dozen prescriptions they’ve given him, and Yeonjun has started to regularly stay up into the early hours of the morning working on songs for their next album.

Being the only two people awake at night, they end up sitting in Yeonjun’s bigger room together so they aren’t alone. Beomgyu’s taken to lying on his stomach, cheek on Yeonjun’s pillow, scrolling through his phone or working on lyrics; while Yeonjun sits with his legs crossed, leaning against the wall beside him, his laptop and a thick notepad splayed in front of him.

The tranquillity is unusual for them. They normally can’t go two minutes without bickering. But something about spending time together that’s truly just theirs makes Yeonjun reluctant to ruin it by riling Beomgyu up. They have enough time to tease each other during the day. At night, when it’s quiet and comfortable like this, Yeonjun watches Beomgyu out of the corner of his eye and appreciates how relaxed and calm he is.

Occasionally, they ask each other for help, or Beomgyu will show him a funny comment he’s read online. Other than that, it’s easy to lapse into silence, and Yeonjun basks in Beomgyu’s company and their newfound time alone.

 

Spending more time alone together has allowed Yeonjun to pick up on some quirks of Beomgyu’s that he never noticed before—how he always lies on his right side, for example, or that he always seems to check the same news sites at the same time every night.

So it’s hard to miss when Beomgyu gradually becomes quieter and quieter during their twilight get-togethers. He starts zoning out instead of browsing the internet, and Yeonjun becomes particularly concerned when Beomgyu stops answering his attempts at conversation.

He observes him during the day as well, but Beomgyu acts the same as always, cracking jokes and helping out where he can. It’s only at night when he’s alone with Yeonjun that he begins to act weird.

After a week, Yeonjun can no longer ignore the nagging feeling that something is seriously wrong. He pretends to write on his notepad, not staring at Beomgyu as he speaks as to not make him feel pressured, and asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Hm?” Beomgyu hums. He’s sitting up against the headboard of Yeonjun’s bed, absently scrolling through his phone, though Yeonjun can tell he’s not really paying attention. “What do you mean ‘what’s wrong’?”

“You’ve been really quiet lately.”

“No, I haven’t,” Beomgyu says stubbornly.

“I mean with me. Not in general.” Yeonjun peeks at him out of the corner of his eye and sees Beomgyu playing with his hair. “I’m just concerned.”

He expects Beomgyu to put up more of a fight, but he only sighs and drops his phone on the bed. “I haven’t been sleeping well, that’s all.”

Yeonjun pauses his fake writing, frowning and examining him. “What do you mean?”

Generally, Beomgyu leaves Yeonjun’s room at night when Yeonjun starts getting sleepy. He always figured Beomgyu went straight to his own bed and passed out. And Beomgyu is one of those people who always has terrible eye bags regardless of how much sleep he gets, so it’s impossible to tell based on how tired he looks in the morning.

“I just—you know when you’re really tired but can’t sleep?” Yeonjun nods. “That’s it.”

“The medication they gave you isn’t working?”

“No,” Beomgyu says gruffly. “I think I’m just cursed.” He yawns, then scowls at himself, shoving his face into his arms.

Biting his lip, Yeonjun sets his pen and notepad down. He pats the spot beside him, the noise causing Beomgyu to lift his head just enough to watch him. “Come here.”

He has no idea if his idea will work, but it’s worth a shot. He can’t stand to see Beomgyu so miserable and exhausted, especially knowing he’s been hiding it from all of the others.

“Why?”

“Just come here,” Yeonjun repeats, and Beomgyu reluctantly extracts himself from his sulking position and sits down next to him.

“What?” Beomgyu repeats, squinting at him as Yeonjun wraps an arm around his waist.

“Why are you so suspicious of me?” Yeonjun mock-sniffles, not knowing whether to be offended or not.

“You usually only touch me when you’re about to shove me away or smack me in the head.”

Biting back a smile, Yeonjun can’t really protest that. But what he wants to try is the exact opposite of either of those things. “Stay still, okay?”

He leans forward and presses his lips to Beomgyu’s neck, feeling the way the other breathes in sharply, holding his breath in his lungs in surprise. Then Yeonjun moves to his scent gland and Beomgyu exhales abruptly, shoulders slumping, the instinctual reaction to an alpha’s mouth so close to that spot.

“It’s supposed to help,” Yeonjun says gently, rubbing his nose over Beomgyu’s scent gland. He can’t smell him and he doubts Beomgyu can pick out Yeonjun’s scent either, muted by the amount of suppressants they’re on, but it’s worth a try. He read once that even on suppressants, members of the same pack can be affected by each other’s scents—biology or something. Yeonjun doesn’t know that much about scenting.

He does know, however, that Beomgyu is steadily going lax as Yeonjun noses at him though, so that must mean something.

They rarely scent each other, mostly because it’s rather boring without the actual scent part of it present, so Yeonjun is unpractised. As he presses his lips to Beomgyu’s scent gland and inhales deeply, it doesn’t feel or smell like anything in particular on Yeonjun’s end. He’s not sure how much it’ll help, or how far he can push it, so he stays tucked against Beomgyu and waits.

After a few moments of simply ghosting his lips over Beomgyu’s neck, he hears Beomgyu’s chest rumble with a purr. It has to be the first time Yeonjun’s ever heard him purr. Purr from happiness, anyway.

Cute, Yeonjun thinks, pleased by his plan working. That, and judging by the way he freely lets Yeonjun hold him, tells him that Beomgyu is far less anxious than when he entered. Which even if it doesn’t put him right to sleep, must count for something.

He stays there for a couple more minutes, allowing Beomgyu’s body to soak in the feeling of an alpha comforting him. Eventually, Beomgyu gently pushes him away, and Yeonjun struggles not to grin seeing how red his face is.

“Good?” Yeonjun asks, already knowing the answer by the low, continuous rumble coming from Beomgyu’s chest still.

“I guess,” Beomgyu says drowsily. He blinks a few times, then yawns, clutching the edge of his sweater sleeves with his fingers. “I’m sleepy now.”

“That was the goal.”

Beomgyu yawns again, grabbing his phone and dragging himself out of Yeonjun’s room without another word.

Come to think of it, Beomgyu is normally wide awake on his feet when he leaves Yeonjun’s room, despite it sometimes being three or four in the morning. This is the first time Yeonjun has seen him actually tired. It’s amazing how strong their instincts are—that just having Yeonjun scent him gets him more relaxed than any drug he’s tried for his insomnia, despite how foreign scenting is to them. Would the same thing work on the other members?

He goes back to attempting to write lyrics after Beomgyu leaves, but he can’t stop focusing on how satisfied his inner alpha is, which isn’t very conducive for writing a break-up song. He ends up crawling into bed a bit earlier than usual and dozing off, wondering if Beomgyu is falling asleep so easily as well.

 

As Beomgyu grumpily admits the next morning, it did, in fact, help to have Yeonjun scent him. And while he’s clearly embarrassed by it, they both know that scenting and being ashamed of it is far better than getting no sleep at all. And it’s really not that embarrassing, at least in Yeonjun’s opinion. They’re friends, not strangers. Friends helping out their friends isn’t that weird, even if it does involve dynamics they rarely touch on.

It helps that only they know about it—none of the others seem to notice Yeonjun’s very, very faint scent on Beomgyu. Yeonjun himself can’t smell it despite knowing it’s there. Not even Kai, who normally sniffs things out like a hawk, says anything—and so Beomgyu doesn’t have much to be defensive about in the first place.

And so the scenting is added to their usual routine. They have a few hours of pleasant and mild conversation in Yeonjun’s room until he gets tired and beckons Beomgyu over. Beomgyu sits tucked against his chest and allows Yeonjun to scent him. At first he tries to withhold his purring, but after two weeks he gives up.

Now he purrs up a storm every time and Yeonjun finds it so unbearably cute he’s left smiling long after Beomgyu’s left.

Beomgyu isn’t a typical affectionate omega. He doesn’t seem to crave as much physical touch as Kai does, so getting the chance to be so close to him is rare. Especially for Yeonjun, given that they never hung out much in private before they began their late-night meetings. Normally, all of Yeonjun’s attempts at hugging him are met with pouts and complaints.

On their days off, Beomgyu always locks himself in his room after a certain time and play video games all night, ignoring their group chat until the morning. He calls it stress relief. So Yeonjun has to admit his ego as an alpha is growing bit by bit every day because of Beomgyu’s quiet happiness, knowing that nobody else has been able to help him relax like this. Not their members, Beomgyu’s other friends, or his video games.

 

Unfortunately, while the scenting itself started off completely innocuous, intentions don’t mean shit to biology.

They go through two more promotional cycles, a mini concert tour, and at least six bottles of suppressants between the two of them before it becomes an issue. In hindsight, he’s surprised nothing came up sooner, or that neither of them predicted the downside of Yeonjun scenting him every day. But to be fair, neither of them have ever gotten good sex education, and so he doesn’t see how they could have known.

Yeonjun rarely acknowledges his being an alpha in his consciousness, since he’s never been one to have strong instincts. But while his alpha instincts and Beomgyu’s omega ones may have stayed as mute as ever in their day-to-day thoughts, they were apparently talking up a storm subconsciously.

The day before it all goes to shit, they arrive in Daegu for a music festival. Beomgyu bursts with joy and anticipation at getting to go home, and he gets the green light from management to stay with his parents instead of their hotel. Beomgyu is always upbeat, but there’s something about seeing him so unabashedly happy that warms Yeonjun’s heart. After their performance, he pats Beomgyu on the back and bids his goodbye to him as they’re whisked off to the hotel without him.

The rest of the night passes uneventfully—Yeonjun and Taehyun watching a movie in the lounge is the most exciting thing any of them do before they retire to their rooms. He does his usual read-through of Weverse posts and is in the midst of answering a few emails, ready to go to bed within the next half-hour, when he hears a knock at the door.

“Hyung?” A familiar voice calls. Yeonjun’s hands stop over his keyboard. “It’s Beomgyu.” As if Yeonjun can’t tell who it is by his voice.

He’s at the door before Beomgyu can say anything more, and he opens it to see Beomgyu standing in a rain jacket and his pyjamas looking forlorn and red-faced. Like a drenched puppy.

“Hyung,” Beomgyu repeats, his head dropping. Before Yeonjun can say anything, Beomgyu is in his arms, hiding his face against Yeonjun’s chest.

“Hey,” Yeonjun says, baffled. Someone as bright and independent as Beomgyu can still get sulky and clingy at times, but that’s when they’re at the dorms after a bad schedule or performance. To randomly show up in Yeonjun’s hotel room when he’s supposed to be with his family is a whole other story. “What’s wrong? What about your parents?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Beomgyu mumbles. And then after a small pause, he says, much quieter, “I needed you. Sorry.”

Yeonjun makes a small noise of surprise, feeling his own cheeks flush. Beomgyu really could’ve phrased that better. Those words, combined with the fact Beomgyu apparently ran here, makes it all seem like something more than just Yeonjun helping him rest. Then he immediately feels bad for focusing on that when Beomgyu sounds so apologetic and miserable. Even if someone were to overhear their conversation, that’s not more important than helping him.

Yeonjun did consider the idea that Beomgyu wouldn’t be able to sleep without being scented, but he honestly figured that Beomgyu would just suck it up for a night if that was the case. Beomgyu got homesick often, so Yeonjun imagined that toughing out a night of no sleep was worth basking in his parent’s love. It wasn’t as if Beomgyu hadn’t gone a night without sleep before, after all.

“It’s okay,” Yeonjun reassures quickly, seeing the way Beomgyu’s hands begin to fidget. The last thing he wants to do is make Beomgyu feel worse for showing up. “Here, come in.”

He knows how absolutely mortified Beomgyu must be, and that, combined with their natural irritability from being overworked, could easily lead to him becoming genuinely depressed. So he does his best to keep his demeanour open and welcoming, to make it clear that he’s not bothered by Beomgyu showing up. Beomgyu follows behind him into the hotel room, shrugging his wet jacket off and fanning his shirt.

Fuck, he must be freezing. After taking Beomgyu’s jacket from him, Yeonjun points him towards the bed and grabs one of the free bottles of water by the entrance that he normally never takes. Beomgyu downs the entire thing in two sips and then drops it into the garbage by the bed, frowning.

Once he’s sure Beomgyu has had something to drink, he grabs a fluffy towel from the bathroom and passes it to him. Beomgyu dabs the towel against his face and hair, grimacing. When Yeonjun realises Beomgyu doesn’t intend to explain himself, he asks tentatively, “What happened?”

Sighing, it takes a moment for Beomgyu to answer, “I was trying to sleep and—couldn’t, obviously, so I decided to get up and pull an all nighter. But the longer I sat there, the antsier I got, and… I sort of realised it was because I was missing your scent.”

His scent? Yeonjun wasn’t aware Beomgyu could smell him at all considering how dampened their scents were. But he supposes it makes sense given how closely they huddle together whenever Yeonjun scents him. Omegas have far better senses than alphas on average. It isn’t completely impossible that Beomgyu would become better attuned to picking up his smell, however faint, because of sheer proximity.

“This is so fucking embarrassing,” Beomgyu moans. “I’m sorry, hyung.”

“Hey, I said it was okay,” Yeonjun reassures him. “Here, let me... I’ll get you fresh clothes and then we can... you know.”

Yeonjun fishes out a clean pair of pyjamas from his suitcase and hands them to Beomgyu, who changes in the bathroom. While Beomgyu is out of sight, Yeonjun finishes up the email he was typing before. When he hears the door re-open, he shuts the top of his laptop and then crawls onto the bed. The pyjamas he gave Beomgyu are slightly too big, the sleeves falling over his fingers, and Yeonjun gulps.

He can’t allow Beomgyu to rile up his instinct to pamper and protect too much, even though he is painfully pretty and cozy-looking in Yeonjun’s clothes. He shouldn’t think of him like that, like he’s a potential partner and not a close friend who trusts Yeonjun enough to help out. He hates that he can’t help having those types of thoughts. It’s not only disrespectful but annoying, because he never has them any other time except for when they’re alone and he’s anticipating scenting him.

He sits on the edge of the bed, refusing to meet Yeonjun’s eyes. Yeonjun waits for him to get comfortable before he whispers, “Can I?”

“Mm.”

Gently, Yeonjun tips Beomgyu’s jaw to the side, angling his head away so that Yeonjun can easily reach his scent gland. It’s slightly damp, secreting more than usual. Not enough for Yeonjun to have noticed when they were standing apart, but now that he has his face practically shoved into Beomgyu’s neck, he realises he can actually smell him for once.

He’s never been able to catch Beomgyu’s scent before this. He smells like a deep chocolate, something dark and rich, and chamomile. It’s a very muted scent compared to his personality, but it suits him in a way. Yeonjun inhales it slowly, closing his eyes and brushing his nose and then his lips over the spot. Beomgyu’s heart beat is so loud under his skin.

It takes longer than usual for Beomgyu to begin purring. With Yeonjun’s lips ghosting across Beomgyu’s scent gland over and over and the faint taste of chocolate on his tongue, it’s hard not to think about licking and tasting him properly. He has to focus on Beomgyu’s chest rumbling to resist, rather than the need to do something more than just scent him. After a few minutes, he pulls back.

“Better?” he asks.

Beomgyu stretches out like a cat and falls onto his back in lieu of a response, seemingly content to try and sleep now. They’re going to have to share this bed, since there’s only one in the room. Yeonjun shoves a small pillow in between them to separate them and then pulls the sheets up and over both of them.

He lies down on the other side and turns over to see Beomgyu facing him, his eyes opening lazily when the sheets are jostled. As Yeonjun rearranges his side of the bed, Beomgyu answers belatedly, “Yeah. Thank you, hyung.”

“Good.” Yeonjun reaches over to ruffle Beomgyu’s hair. “Night, Gyu.”

“’Night,” Beomgyu slurs, already half-asleep, and it doesn’t take much time for Yeonjun to follow him.

 

Yeonjun wakes up to something wet and slightly sticky against his neck. It tickles and he groans, batting whatever the fuck it is away. “Kai, stop,” he mumbles, thinking it’s one of his pranks.

He freezes when he hears a low, distinctly aggressive growl instead of Kai’s loud laughter.

“Not Kai,” Beomgyu hisses. Yeonjun breathes in sharply and his vision goes blurry beneath his lids from how thick the air is. It sticks to his lungs, making it difficult to breathe.

Beomgyu nips at Yeonjun’s jaw and he snaps back to himself, shooting upwards. He props himself up on one arm and accidentally sends Beomgyu tumbling backwards from where he was perched on Yeonjun’s lap. It’s still mostly dark out, only a bit of blue light filtering through the curtains, and it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to what he’s seeing.

“Beomgyu?” he says, mouth dry, as Beomgyu sits up and straddles him again once he’s caught his balance. His long hair is matted against his cheeks, sweaty and slick, and his dark eyes don’t seem phased in the slightest at Yeonjun’s reaction. “What are you—”

“Too noisy,” Beomgyu interjects, leaning over. His tongue laps directly over Yeonjun’s scent gland. The only thing separating them is his shirt. Yeonjun jolts, not used to having people touch him there. “You smell like hotel soap. It’s gross,” Beomgyu grumbles, and bites down at the sensitive skin he’s tonguing at.

Yeonjun bites back a moan, his alpha stirring in interest—to which Beomgyu, pleased, fills the room with more of his scent. The shift in the air hits Yeonjun hard and he holds his breath, terrified of taking in any more.

“B—Beomgyu,” he stammers, doing his best not to inhale or exhale. The actual smell Beomgyu is releasing isn’t overpowering, only the same dull chocolate it was last night, but the effect is overwhelming. It drips with need for something, and the signals Beomgyu is letting out are becoming very, very clear to him. All of Yeonjun’s blood rushes to his crotch. “You’re in heat,” he says, attempting to shove him off by his stomach.

“I’m not in heat,” Beomgyu shoots back, voice unwavering. He grips Yeonjun’s shirt at his lower back, scrunching up the fabric. “You know that. I can’t go into heat while on suppressants.”

“Then what are you doing right now?” Yeonjun chokes out. He spots his phone on the bedside table and reaches for it—only to be stopped by another growl and Beomgyu’s hand grabbing his wrist mid-air.

Beomgyu is blazing hot, right down to the pads of his fingers. Yeonjun shakes his grip off, startled by the temperature change, and tries to catch a glimpse of Beomgyu’s expression. His fringe overlaps his eyes though, and all Yeonjun can see is that his entire face is red.

He has to be in heat. There’s literally no other explanation for why Yeonjun woke up with Beomgyu directly over his dick. That, and the way he’s panting, how frazzled he is...

“Scenting you. Because you smell wrong,” Beomgyu snaps. “I told you. The hotel soap.”

Yeonjun stares at him, wide-eyed and terrified by the seriousness in his tone. He’s never been around an omega in heat before. He didn’t realise they could get so feral.

Apparently taking his silence as a go-ahead, Beomgyu sucks on his scent gland, his teeth grazing over the edges before releasing him with a small pop and lapping up the pheromones which naturally leak out. Yeonjun groans, his cock stirring in interest. Beomgyu can probably feel it underneath his leg.

“Fuck,” Yeonjun curses. “Beomgyu—”

The drag of Beomgyu’s tongue continues in a circle over his skin and Yeonjun flounders for a second, his brain rapidly short-circuiting under the stimulation, until Beomgyu gives a bite sharp enough to leave an actual, painful mark and Yeonjun jumps into action on pure instinct.

He wraps his hand loosely around Beomgyu’s neck, scruffing him, squeezing enough to force Beomgyu to stop. Beomgyu licks his lips, blinking a few times in a daze, and Yeonjun lets out a sigh of relief when the desperation in the air momentarily clears into surprise. At least Beomgyu isn’t so far gone he can resist being held.

Or that’s what he thinks until Beomgyu’s face twists in irritation and he squirms, even jumpier than before. He grabs Yeonjun’s arms and attempts to tug him off, and Yeonjun has to grit his teeth and exert a stupid amount of energy to keep him held down.

“Why are you being so difficult?” Beomgyu glares at him.

“Why are you being so difficult?” Yeonjun says. “Y—You’re clearly not in your right mind. You’ll thank me later.”

Beomgyu manages to free himself from one of Yeonjun’s hands and drops back onto his lap, but Yeonjun takes the opportunity to grab his phone.

“Oh my god,” Beomgyu mumbles, seeing Yeonjun flick open the emergency call function. “I’m not in heat. Hyung, I’m not. I swear. Smell me. Do I smell like I’m in heat?”

Right as Yeonjun sends the call to their manager through, Beomgyu leans back in, guiding Yeonjun’s face towards his own neck. He only reluctantly listens because it’s better than Beomgyu biting him, and he knows their manager will arrive soon and pull Beomgyu off.

To tell the truth, Yeonjun has no idea what an omega in heat smells like. Beomgyu presented well before he joined their company, and when Kai presented, everyone but Beomgyu was barred from entering the apartment until well after his heat ended.

Nosing along his neck, he takes in the velvet chocolate he knows is Beomgyu’s scent and his brows furrow. Because as sweet as it is, it’s only sweet in the sense that he can tell Beomgyu is an omega presenting himself. It’s not the sort of sweet that hurts his teeth and makes him want to hold Beomgyu down like he’s read omegas in heat smell like. Which makes no sense, because Beomgyu is tugging at his shirt, impatient to get back to jumping his bones, very obviously in heat.

He tugs Beomgyu away again by a grip on his hair, his hand shaking. “Yeah, you do,” he lies.

Beomgyu rolls his eyes and deadpans, “You’re a shitty liar.” His level of confidence in himself has Yeonjun second guessing his judgement more and more, and his one hand on Beomgyu loosens enough for him to be able to wrestle Yeonjun back onto the bed.

“Then why are you—Beomgyu!” Yeonjun yelps as Beomgyu straddles him.

“I’m not trying to hop on your dick,” Beomgyu growls at him, and if Yeonjun’s face wasn’t red already, it is now. “I’m just trying to scent you, so if you could please stay still—”

Thankfully, their manager is only two rooms away and Yeonjun never locked the door the previous night, so it takes less than a minute for him to come running into the room.

“What the hell?” Their manager looks between them, and Yeonjun begs with his eyes for help. He’s stupidly close to popping a boner and he really doesn’t want to test how desperate Beomgyu can get.

Their manager rushes over and pulls Beomgyu off of him and Beomgyu swats at him, growling again, much louder and more vicious than before. Yeonjun has read a lot of comments comparing Beomgyu to a wolf with that long hair of his, but this is the first time he’s ever looked at him and saw something legitimately animalistic in him.

“He’s—he’s in heat,” Yeonjun says, hastily pulling the bed sheets over his lap to hide the growing tent in his pants.

“I’m not in heat,” Beomgyu protests, whining. Their manager is far bigger than both of them and has a good grip on Beomgyu’s shoulders, so Beomgyu’s attempts to shove him off are useless. “Hyung, you can tell the difference. Smell me,” he says to their manager.

Dubiously, their manager sniffs the back of Beomgyu’s neck. Yeonjun expected him to thrash and squirm, having someone so close to him while in heat, but Beomgyu barely moves other than to continue half-heartedly pushing him off.

After what feels like forever, their manager stands back up, taking Beomgyu with him. “He’s right, he’s not in heat,” he says, frowning. “And he’s right, I can tell the difference.”

Betas don’t release or take in as many pheromones as alphas and omegas do, so their judgement is far less clouded. Which means that if he says Beomgyu isn’t in heat, he isn’t in heat. Yeonjun’s stomach does flips, and not in the good way. “Then why…”

“Why are you here?” their manager asks Beomgyu. “Do your parents know? How did you get here?”

Beomgyu crosses his arms, and if it wasn’t for the fact he was being clutched like a safety hazard, he would look adorable, all pouty. “I—No, I didn’t tell them,” he says, looking shiftily at Yeonjun.

“So you came here overnight without telling anybody? And Yeonjun—you let him into your room?”

Yeonjun winces. “Was I supposed to turn him away?” Even putting aside the fact Beomgyu came to him for a very specific reason, he wasn’t about to tell Beomgyu to walk back home.

“Well, you could have called me,” their manager points out.

“Can we have this discussion later, please,” Beomgyu whines, like a child. “I really, really—you don’t understand, it smells so terrible. I just want to cover it up with our scent instead,” he pauses and then adds again, “please.”

“What?” their manager says, bewildered.

“The hotel soap,” Beomgyu says, his nose wrinkling. “It’s so strong. It’s covering his own scent. I hate it.”

“You can smell that?” their manager questions, bewildered, and glances between them again. A bead of sweat rolls down Yeonjun’s temple. He knows the you fucked up look when he sees it.

“Yes?” Beomgyu answers. “It’s so bitter compared to how he normally smells. It hurts my nose. Physically hurts. I need to...”

“How he normally smells?” their manager repeats. “You can normallysmell him? On the amount of suppressants you guys are on?”

Beomgyu nibbles on his lower lip. “Is that… bad?”

Yeonjun knows it’s not normal, but he couldn’t see how them being able to pick up each other’s scents could be a bad thing. Given the grave expression their manager makes, though, it’s a serious fucking problem.

“Oh my god,” their manager mumbles. An angry red steadily creeps up his neck. “Yeonjun, did you imprint on him?”

“… Huh?” Yeonjun chokes.

“Oh my fucking god,” Beomgyu groans, dragging his hands down his face.

“Hyung, why is the door—uh.” Soobin knocks on the doorway and all three of their heads whip towards him. Yeonjun can only imagine what scene they make, with their manager holding Beomgyu, Beomgyu scowling at Yeonjun, and Yeonjun blatantly covering his dick with the bedsheets. “… What’s going on?”

“Go get Huening and Taehyun,” their manager says. “We’re having an emergency meeting.”

Notes:

if you're coming here past the end of december wondering why you remembered this chapter differently it's because i rewrote the entire thing so 🧍🏻🧍🏻

thanks for reading, please let me know what you think!

Chapter 2: Beomgyu

Summary:

if you're coming here past dec. 28, i rewrote and updated the first chapter of this fic with ~1k extra words!! i highly recommend rereading the newer version, but it's not necessary. either way, please enjoy this update!!

Beomgyu almost drowned once before, when he was a kid. One of his friends accidentally shoved him off the dock they were playing on straight into the ocean. His body initiated fight or flight mode and he flailed his arms and legs until he was able to get his head above water and be tugged back up by his friends grabbing at his hair and shoulders.

In the ten seconds he was drowning, he didn’t think of anything. He wasn’t entirely aware of what was going on—just the distant knowledge that if he didn’t get himself above water now, something very bad would happen.

Being imprinted on, Beomgyu learns, is very much like drowning. The night before they leave for Daegu, he’s fine. Then two mornings later, in what feels like the blink of an eye, he rolls over and sees Yeonjun asleep beside him and thinks mine, mine, mine. It happens so fast he barely registers it.

Just remembering it makes him shudder. He holds his shirt tighter over his nose. Well, it’s actually Yeonjun’s shirt, but it barely smells like him anymore. Yeonjun’s cool, calm scent of rainwater has long been overwhelmed by his own. Beomgyu doesn’t like his own scent, especially when it’s so obviously tinged with distress, but he’s not allowed to tug the shirt down until Yeonjun is finished applying the scent blockers.

He only vaguely remembers the past hour up until the point Yeonjun began to smear the scent blockers over his skin, masking the stupid hotel soap scent that Beomgyu absolutely cannot stand. Once that began to dissipate, it was like a veil was lifted from over his eyes.

He’s lucid enough now to be aware of how embarrassing this situation is and how much trouble they’re going to be in. And, most of all, how much trouble he’s going to cause everyone else over something he can’t control.

Thinking about how he woke Yeonjun up by sucking on his neck makes him want to sink into the floor and never come out. God, Beomgyu bit him. He straight up sat directly on top of Yeonjun’s crotch. No wonder Yeonjun thought he was in heat. Beomgyu would’ve thought the same.

To say this is the most embarrassing moment of his life is an understatement. It’s not just embarrassing. It’s scary. He sinks further into the mattress, watching as Yeonjun smooths the flaky white salve over his neck and nape, waiting for it to cool. Their manager was worried that over the counter scent blockers wouldn’t be enough to mask Yeonjun’s scent from an omega he imprinted on, so they had to borrow Kai’s prescription blockers.

Beomgyu almost wishes he was still feral so he wouldn’t have to feel so guilty over everything, from stealing Kai’s medicine to accidentally chaining Yeonjun to him to the stares of absolute dismay that their manager kept sending them.

It never occurred to him that him being able to smell Yeonjun at random could be a bad thing. He’s not stupid, he knows that scenting forms closer bonds than simply being around each other and him being able to smell Yeonjun through their suppressants stemmed from that. But he thought it was sweet. Sort of like a tangible manifestation of their budding friendship. Certainly nothing to be alarmed over.

He didn’t know it was his stupid body thinking he was being claimed. Just the word alone makes him want to die. What are they, in the 1800s?

“It has to be done consistently for the bond to take root,” their manager said, on the phone with one of the doctors at Big Hit. Cue everyone looking at him and Yeonjun again.

All bonds can be broken, but only through careful planning and a lot of time. They haven’t spoken directly to Big Hit yet, but he has a strong feeling he knows what they’re going to say: we don’t have time to deal with this.

He chews on his lower lip, shifting his legs away from Yeonjun’s. Beomgyu doesn’t know enough about imprinting to know what’ll happen to them, but above all, he doesn’t want it to affect the group. That’s why he jumped at the remedy Yeonjun gave him in the first place. Insomnia is a bitch and if he knew that if he didn’t find a solution soon, he would have ended up fucking up their comeback preparations worse and worse. Mentally or physically or both. He let Yeonjun scent him because he was so terrified of affecting the rest of the group.

Of course that would come to bite him in the ass. Being an idol, he’s learned that he’ll never be allowed to live in peace.

“I think it’s dried now,” Yeonjun says quietly a few minutes later, lifting his fingers off his neck.

Beomgyu carefully lowers the shirt from over his nose, breathing in very slowly, scared of taking in too much air at once if Yeonjun’s scent hasn’t dissipated. “Yeah,” he says, shutting his eyes to enjoy the fresh air. There’s a bit of what he knows is Yeonjun’s scent still around, but it’s not nearly strong enough to invoke a reaction and that other gross scent is completely gone. “It’s fine now.”

Yeonjun closes the cap on the bottle and carefully places it aside for Kai to take back later. The others have all left by now, including their manager. He and Yeonjun were told to stay in the room and not leave under any circumstances, especially not apart.

Not that Beomgyu could go anywhere without Yeonjun right now anyways. The urge to throw himself at Yeonjun without warning and the heat in his belly warming every time he gets close are both gone, but he still has the nagging need to stay near him. Like if Yeonjun leaves his sight, something bad will happen.

He flexes his fingers into the mattress. Even though Yeonjun is right beside him, his body is still restless. He hopes this isn’t going to be his life for the next however long they’re bonded for. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Yeonjun staring at him, brows furrowed. A perpetual expression of pity. Beomgyu would rather he be angry than upset.

“I feel so stupid for not noticing before,” Yeonjun murmurs. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Beomgyu says, a little more snappish than how he means it to come out as.

“Well, it’s not yours either,” Yeonjun points out.

Lip curling, Beomgyu brings his knees to his chest and rests his arms on top of them. “I literally attacked you. And I was the one who—who encouraged you to scent me in the first place. You couldn’t have known.”

“I offered,” Yeonjun says. He leans in a little closer, trying to catch Beomgyu’s gaze, but Beomgyu resolutely avoids him. “Beomgyu. Come on. Listen to me.”

“I am.”

“If anything, we both share the blame fifty-fifty. I offered and you accepted. That’s fifty-fifty.”

Beomgyu gives a deep sigh. “It’s not, hyung. You were driven to help me because of me being an omega. You couldn’t have said no.”

“Excuse me?” Yeonjun raises his hand to cut him off. “What?”

“Of course you offered and wanted to help. You’re an alpha. You’re naturally protective and you knew you could help—”

“You think I only started scenting you—helping you like that because of some stupid alpha urge?” Yeonjun asks. The tone he uses has Beomgyu bristling. “I helped you because we’re friends, Beomgyu.”

“Let’s not talk about this,” Beomgyu mumbles. He’s not normally one to take the high road so easily, but he doesn’t want to fight when they’re trapped in a room together and newly bonded. Yeonjun’s emotions are like static to him, clinging to and worsening his anxiety, and he’s already embarrassed himself enough for one day without having a panic attack.

“Okay. Okay, fine,” Yeonjun says, mostly to himself, and then louder, “I’m going to read over the email they sent.”

During their meeting, the doctor they were on the phone with emergency-compiled resources for them to review while their company organised tickets for them to get back to Seoul ASAP. Since there’s nothing Yeonjun and Beomgyu can do right now except sit in Yeonjun’s hotel room, they were told to take advantage of the time alone and read over the document together.

He doesn’t want to. He really, really doesn’t want to, but they have to, and he’ll regret it later if he puts it off now. Yeonjun gets up to grab his laptop, then drops it on the mattress beside Beomgyu. “I’m going to go to the bathroom real quick,” he says, then shuffles into the connected bathroom.

The one minute he’s not in Beomgyu’s line of sight is like torture. He focuses on the sound of the toilet flushing, then the running water of him washing his hands. He’s just in the other room. It’s okay.

When Yeonjun comes back out, he pauses in front of the bed. Beomgyu purses his lips and asks, “What?”

“… Nothing, sorry,” Yeonjun says. He sits down beside him, legs crossed, and props the laptop up in front of them both.

Beomgyu glances away for a moment, picking at the corner of his eye with his thumb. He can’t remember the last time he and Yeonjun were this awkward around each other. When they were promoting Blue Hour, they had a big fight and didn’t speak for a month; but even then, it wasn’t as uncomfortable as this, only irritating.

That awkwardness was the type where he didn’t want to stand near Yeonjun and they wouldn’t talk. This one is where he needs to be near him and he doesn’t want to talk. It’s much more difficult to resist speaking to someone when they’re directly beside you than not.

Yeonjun types in the password to his email. Beomgyu avoids looking at the screen until Yeonjun murmurs “Here,” and opens the document.

“Thirty-four pages,” Beomgyu observes.

“Honestly, I doubt they put this together just now,” Yeonjun says with a light laugh. He full-sizes the document. “They probably had it made already. You know… just in case.”

“Just in case two of their members bonded.” Which isn’t something that should be possible if they were all following the unspoken rules of being idols. “Because that’s definitely a regular occurrence.”

“I mean, contingency planning is important.”

Most of the document is stuff they discussed in the meeting, just in medical speak instead of layman’s terms. Beomgyu keeps checking the time as they scroll down. It’s been an hour and a half since everyone else left and their manager hasn’t contacted them. Yeonjun comments on some things, but Beomgyu isn’t really paying attention. All he can think about is how Yeonjun is being punished for helping him. How sad is that?

“We’ll need to get tested,” Yeonjun says, reading off the screen, pausing on a link to a web page explaining bonding testing. “Do you think we’ll go today?”

Beomgyu shrugs and keeps watching the time tick. He hopes their manager returns soon so they can leave the hotel room. The windows are open now and there’s no distinct scent in the air but his own and yet it’s still suffocating.

“Gyu.”

“What?”

“I know what you’re doing,” he says. “Stop ignoring me.”

“I’m not.” He isn’t. He physically can’t. “I’m just distracted.”

“Well, stop.” Yeonjun reaches over and flicks Beomgyu’s nose without warning. Beomgyu jumps backwards a little, covering the spot with his hands. “If it’s because you’re embarrassed, don’t be.”

“That’s easy for you to say when you weren’t the one trying to—to,” he waves his hand, unable to find the right words for the horrific situation Yeonjun woke up to earlier. “And then everyone walked in and saw!”

“We all know that wasn’t because of you,” Yeonjun says. He drops his hand back to the bed. “Newly bonded omegas are sensitive.”

Beomgyu groans, raking his hands through his hair. “Please don’t say things like that, hyung.” The last thing he needs is for Yeonjun to start looking at him as... something other than Beomgyu. Like he’s his pathetic one-sided mate and not his friend.

“Why?” Yeonjun frowns, not getting it at all. “It’s not a bad thing, just...”

“Because I don’t want to think about it!”

“But, we—it’s just a fact,” Yeonjun mumbles. “I know neither of us like talking about that stuff, but given the circumstances—”

“It’s not just that,” Beomgyu interrupts. “This,” he gestures in between them, “is not an equal bond. You imprinted on me, we didn’t mate. You clearly don’t feel anything that I do. I don’t want to think about how I’m going to be the only one going crazy here, okay?”

Yeonjun’s eyes widen, his face going slack momentarily as he listens, but then it twists when Beomgyu finishes. “We don’t know if it’s actually one-sided or not. And either way, it’s still a bond. I still—they said I’d still act differently. Just because I can’t smell your scent from further away doesn’t mean I feel nothing in general.”

“That still doesn’t make it equal,” Beomgyu says petulantly, lifting his chin. “You won’t get it, hyung. You don’t get it.”

“Okay, well, sorry for trying to help you before!” Yeonjun says, exasperated, as if Beomgyu didn’t just say ten minutes ago that he didn’t want to talk about it.

He buries his face in his arms. He can feel Yeonjun’s irritation coming off him in waves, the frustration of not being able to understand why Beomgyu won’t accept his apologies, and while he’s aware that he’s only making it worse, he doesn’t know how to get rid of his own emotions to put Yeonjun’s first.

He’s used to repressing his own feelings, but it’s a lot more difficult when his inner omega is throwing a fit at the same time. It’s like two against one. His feelings versus his rational mind.

“It’s not your fault,” he repeats, the same as before. He’s going to be saying that a lot, he can already see it. “I’m just frustrated, and… and even if you keep saying I don’t have to be embarrassed, I’m still going to be fucking embarrassed. I tried to bite you!”

Peeking out from his arms slightly, he sees Yeonjun rub the back of his neck with a small, stilted laugh. “Admittedly, I was pretty confused when I woke up to you on my lap.”

“And it sort of proves my point, doesn’t it? When I woke up this morning, it was like… I couldn’t do anything until I rubbed my scent all over you. It wasn’t like I was totally out of it, just—it was so overwhelming that it felt like I didn’t have a choice.” He licks his chapped lips, peeling off some of the skin, a nervous habit. “You didn’t feel that at all.”

Yeonjun goes quiet before responding, “That’s true. I’m sorry, I know it must be difficult to… to know that I… I mean…” he stammers. “But it’s not like I’m ambivalent, Beomgyu. Even if I don’t feel that… primal urge or whatever it is you’re feeling, it doesn’t mean I don’t care. Trust me, I care a lot.”

“Just stop,” Beomgyu says, not unkindly, only tired. “I know you’re sorry. I don’t want to argue over that. We’ll go in circles forever.”

Yeonjun nods, compromising again, and they go through the rest of the document together. Beomgyu has a pretty good grasp of what’s happening now, and while he logically knows all this, it’s almost incomprehensible to him to realise that it happened to him. Is happening. All the case studies given in the documents are from unhealthy relationships. There was nothing unhealthy about Yeonjun scenting him, only stupidity.

Even more than the fact they’re apparently bonded in some way, Beomgyu despises how this has ruined one of the only things he could look forward to every day. No matter how brutal their workdays were, as long as neither of them were busy or Yeonjun didn’t pass out early by accident, Beomgyu knew he would be able to crawl into Yeonjun’s bed and zone out for a while.

And their friendship… He doesn’t want to think about the state of that after this at all. He hopes his instincts will calm down to let Yeonjun out of his sight for longer than a few minutes soon—or even better, that the bond will be broken within the week. Because if they’re forced to drag this on for too long, he doesn’t know if they’re going to be able to mend their relationship. How is he going to be able to look at Yeonjun without remembering this?

His head hurts. He rubs his temples with his index and middle fingers, squeezing and re-opening his eyes a few times.

Yeonjun spends a while longer after typing away on his laptop, searching on the internet for more information. Beomgyu lies down on his side and buries his face into the pillow instead. He’s learned enough for today. It’s only been a few hours but he already feels like an expert on imprinting. He doubts it can physically get worse than the few minutes after he woke up, so he supposes it’s only uphill from here. If only that was reassuring.

He has no idea how much time passes before Yeonjun’s phone rings. It could’ve been anywhere from a couple of minutes to an hour—he jolts when he hears the noise, his eyes snapping open, and looks over at Yeonjun to see him answering the call.

“Hello? Oh… Yeah, hi. We’re still here.” Yeonjun mouths manager to Beomgyu. “In half an hour? Okay. Um, is there anything else we should—no? Okay, okay. I’ll tell him. Okay. See you soon.”

Beomgyu already has a good idea of what was said based off of Yeonjun’s side, but he asks anyways, “What’s going on?”

“Our train is in two hours, so he’s going to come back to pick us up in half an hour. Everyone else is already at the station.” Yeonjun clicks off his phone. “I need to pack everything really quick before then.”

That triggers something in Beomgyu’s memory. His things. He left them all at his parent’s place when he ran off in the middle of the night. That alone should’ve been a sign something was wrong. “My stuff…”

“He said they picked it up from your parents, and that they explained everything to them,” Yeonjun says. Beomgyu’s frown worsens.

He didn’t think of what to say to his parents yet, but he did know that he wanted them to hear it from him and not from one of their staff. It’s only been a few hours, so of course he hadn’t spoken to them yet. Oh well. Apparently he doesn’t have that choice anymore, just like everything else right now.

“I’ll need to call my parents on the train, I guess, and… Actually, I probably can’t, since we’ll be in public… ugh.” Yeonjun stands and drags his suitcase over so he can begin throwing things inside.

Beomgyu’s mom is going to be pissed. He knows her well enough to know that. She’s a romantic like him, and the concept of her son accidentally bonding—or more specifically being bonded with—isn’t exactly the height of romance.

He brushes his fingers over his own scent gland. It’s no longer wet now that he’s calmed down, only still sensitive to touch. They’re fortunate Yeonjun never bit him. That would have been a real problem. An alpha biting an omega pretty much guarantees a bond. Imprinting is always temporary, while proper mating bonds are far more difficult to break.

“… And I’m guessing that we’ll need to… are you listening?” Yeonjun asks, waving his hand in front of Beomgyu’s face, and Beomgyu recoils.

“No,” he answers. “What were you saying?”

“At least you’re honest,” Yeonjun huffs. He’s folding his casual clothes from yesterday into his suitcase. “I was saying that, judging by what all those sites said, we’ll have to share a room.”

Beomgyu’s brows knit together. He thought he covered most of the bases in his head for what their company would do to them—curfews, strict behavioural guidelines, et cetera—but he didn’t consider that.

Though it is true. Beomgyu would never be able to sleep in this state without Yeonjun nearby. It’s the very basis for why his body thinks Yeonjun claimed him, is because he always helped put him to sleep. After the bond is broken, there’s no chance in hell they’re going to be allowed to sleep anywhere near each other. He doubts they’ll be able to spend time alone at all for a while, Beomgyu’s sleeping habits be damned.

“But, uh, I’ll rearrange my room so you can bring in your stuff and… we can probably fit your bed in as well,” Yeonjun continues, seeing Beomgyu’s expression.

“It won’t be for long. I’ll just drag my mattress in.”

Yeonjun bites the inside of his cheek like he wants to say something. Instead he goes back to packing, and Beomgyu counts bits of fabric on the floor. He should’ve brought his phone with him last night. He left in such a hurry he didn’t think to grab it.

That should’ve been another sign both to himself and Yeonjun that something was wrong. None of them went anywhere without their phones normally. Especially Beomgyu, with his fifteen group chats.

The knock at the door surprises them both, and Yeonjun hurries to open the door. Their manager looks like he’s aged ten years between this morning and now.

“Alright, guys. I drove here myself so the car is all set. Let’s go.”

Yeonjun props his suitcase up so he can wheel it out, and Beomgyu pushes himself to his feet before he can think about it, going to Yeonjun’s side. He can’t even allow Yeonjun to walk out of the room ahead of him. How shameful.

Yeonjun glances over at him, mouth slightly open like he’s shocked, before he realises why Beomgyu is so close.

“Here,” Yeonjun says, reaching for Beomgyu’s wrist and loosely doing something like holding his hand but not quite. “Okay, now we can go.”

Their manager doesn’t seem pleased by the sight of them touching, but he doesn’t say anything more, only gestures for them to follow him to the elevator.

 

Yeonjun doesn’t let go of his hand as they get out of the rental car and walk towards the station. He doesn’t let go of his hand as they meet the others on the platform. He doesn’t let go of his hand as they find their seats and the girl sitting across from them gasps “Is that TXT?!” into her Facetime call.

Beomgyu ends up retching his hand away himself when he realises Yeonjun isn’t going to, cheeks pink. Yeonjun shoots him a confused look, startled, and Beomgyu jabs his thumb in the direction of the girl blatantly filming them.

“Sorry,” Yeonjun whispers, leaning in so she can’t hear. “I wasn’t sure if you needed me to keep holding on, or…”

Beomgyu wants to say he didn’t ask Yeonjun to hold his hand in the first place, but admittedly, it did help calm him on the way here. They’re sitting side by side now though. There’s lots of fresh air and other scents mixing in so he has no chance of accidentally catching Yeonjun’s alone and putting his body on high alert. He really doesn’t need his hand held.

He reminds himself that Yeonjun is trying to help in his own way, and Beomgyu can’t fault him for that. So instead of answering harshly like he would usually, jokingly or otherwise, he says stiffly, “Thank you, hyung.”

Yeonjun smiles in return. It doesn’t reach his eyes, but it seems genuine, so Beomgyu tries to smile back as an offering of peace.

He spends the first half of the train ride refreshing Twitter and Weverse over and over in case the girl, or anyone else they walked past, posts videos of them. She doesn’t, thank god, and he’s able to distract himself by answering fan comments until they arrive in Seoul.

 

“Here, let me help,” Soobin hurries to say. They’ve returned to the dorm and are moving Beomgyu’s mattress into Yeonjun’s room. The train took two hours as usual and then their driver broke every speed limit known to mankind to get them back to the dorms before the evening. Beomgyu and Yeonjun are going to get tested later that night—one of the perks of being famous is you can bypass how clinics are typically closed after four o’clock.

The car ride itself was near-unbearable. All they did was apologise to each other over and over until Yeonjun dozed off while Beomgyu tried not to stare in jealousy. If only Beomgyu's stupid brain could fall asleep like a normal person as well, then none of this would have happened. If they don’t find a way to fix his insomnia normally after all this is over, he’s going to start smuggling in sleeping drugs from the West or something.

Beomgyu stares, forlorn, at his own room where all of his most precious items are stacked in a corner. He’s not taking them to Yeonjun’s because a) it’s not worth the hassle and b) he doesn’t trust that if he and Yeonjun get into a fight, they won’t accidentally knock it over.

Aside from the obvious downsides to needing to move rooms temporarily, he’s so used to having his own now that the thought of having a roommate again only adds to his misery. Ever since he and Soobin stopped being roommates, he’s gradually become more comfortable living somewhat on his own. He doubts he’s going to have a good time in Yeonjun’s room despite the biological urge to be close being fulfilled. He needs at least five hours a week to lose himself in his own thoughts, and he doesn’t think he’s going to get that with Yeonjun sitting across from him the entire time.

Beomgyu looks over his shoulder to find Soobin and Yeonjun trying to figure out how to get the mattress through the doorway. Huffing, he goes over and shoves Soobin out of the way.

“Hey—”

“Just turn it on his side,” he says. Yeonjun helps him do so, and as he expected, it’s easier to shove the mattress through the opening while it’s on its side. “There.”

“You didn’t have to push me,” Soobin grumbles.

“If you didn’t want to be pushed you shouldn’t have stood in my way,” Beomgyu counters. Yeonjun laughs.

There’s no reason he has to bring clothes with him since, technically, he’s only going across the hallway, but it feels like he’s going so much further. He ends up taking some sweatpants and t-shirts with him to minimise the amount of time he spends in his own room and away from Yeonjun. Just in case.

When Yeonjun steps out of Beomgyu’s room and into his own, he’s hit with that feeling of go find him, get closer, where is he again. He tugs a random sweater off a hanger and then fast-walks down the hall to where Yeonjun’s room is.

If Yeonjun or Soobin find the quickness he enters the room to be alarming, neither of them show it. They set Beomgyu’s mattress down, and Soobin stretches his back for a long moment before kicking the door behind them shut.

Beomgyu sort of figured Soobin only volunteered to help move Beomgyu’s stuff to corner them into talking, so he’s not surprised they’re being held hostage.

“So…” Soobin trails off.

Yeonjun, arms crossed, sits on his bed. “So?”

“What the fuck, guys?”

Beomgyu’s nose twitches. It’s not strong—it’s so faint he would’ve mistaken it for the natural scent of Yeonjun’s room if it wasn’t for the fact they weren’t home for the past few days—but Beomgyu can smell how defensive Yeonjun is already. The sharpness of it makes the hairs on Beomgyu’s arms stand.

“I thought we explained it pretty well earlier,” Yeonjun says.

“Yeah, how you guys were scenting each other for, what, months? Without letting anybody know? Without telling me?” He shoots Beomgyu a look of betrayal. “I could’ve told you guys to stop.”

“I never scented him,” Beomgyu says.

With a long-suffering sigh, Yeonjun confirms, “He didn’t. It was only me.”

“Okay, well, hyung, how did you not know this would happen?”

“It’s not like this is something you learn about in school!” Yeonjun raises his voice, then swallows and sits back a little. “I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known—”

It’s a blow to his stupid instinctive pride to hear Yeonjun say he doesn’t want this so plainly, but logically, it’s true. Neither of them would have done it if they’d known they were forming a bond by accident, if not only because Beomgyu hates the disappointed looks Soobin is giving them right now. “It’s not his fault, I basically asked for it—”

“You need to stop saying that,” Yeonjun interjects. “I wasn’t about to let you leave my room every single night knowing you were miserable and couldn’t sleep—”

“You guys do see how two people who are biologically predispositioned to bonding spending every night together might become an issue?” Soobin says.

Well. When he puts it like that. Beomgyu’s face colours. “I’ve never thought about any of you guys that way. It didn’t—it didn’t occur to me at all,” he says, honestly.

Soobin runs his hands through his hair once, twice, clearly trying to find the right words to say. “Yeah, well…”

“It’s already happened, there’s nothing we can do about it,” Yeonjun says, tone softer now. “We made a mistake. We’ll just have to deal with it.”

“I know, I know, just… ugh.” Soobin holds onto his chin. “I only spoke to hyung for a bit earlier, but… we’re in a lot of fucking shit.”

Beomgyu can’t help but laugh at his language, then feels bad because it’s not anything to laugh over. “They shouldn’t take it out on you guys.”

“Maybe not Taehyun and Kai, but—me, yeah, you guys, yeah.”

“I’ll—We’ll talk to them,” Yeonjun says, tilting his head in Beomgyu’s direction. “They probably don’t understand that you didn’t know.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m going to get in trouble anyways just on the basis of being the leader, but I appreciate the effort, I guess.”

Beomgyu picks at his nails, shoulders slumping. He doesn’t have anything else to say to that. “I’m sorry, hyung.”

“I’m not mad at—God, please don’t give me those eyes, Beomgyu,” Soobin begs.

Beomgyu throws his head back and laughs humourlessly. He knows exactly what look Soobin is talking about. He’s not doing it on purpose. “That’s just my face. Don’t be mean.”

“You look like a kicked puppy.”

“You do,” Yeonjun agrees.

“I’m really overwhelmed, okay?” Beomgyu murmurs. “There’s a lot of things happening in my brain right now.”

“I wish you would’ve told me that you weren’t sleeping, I could’ve—it’s not like we’ve exhausted every type of medication, we could’ve found something other than this.”

There’s no way for Beomgyu to say that part of why he enjoyed Yeonjun scenting him so much was because of the comfort of having someone so close by without sounding like he’s pathetic as fuck. Medication is impersonal and comes with side effects. As far as he was aware—and he doesn’t need Soobin to call him dumb for this—scenting didn’t have as many potential side effects. It’s personal and intimate. People do it with their best friends, their family, their lovers. It’s a sign that the other person truly cares about you and wants you to carry around a mark of them to show that.

While Beomgyu isn’t a particularly physically affectionate person, he’s not immune to being doted on either. Especially not by someone he admires. Maybe it’s selfish, but he would always pick that over taking medication. And he thinks most other people would, even if they don’t realise it themselves.

He doesn’t respond to Soobin’s statement, instead saying, “You’re right. I should have told you.” Not because Soobin is their leader, but because he’s Beomgyu’s best friend.

Soobin sighs deeply, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. “It’s… well, I’m not going to lie and say it’s fine, because it’s not, but I’m not mad at you. Or you, Yeonjun hyung.” He looks at Yeonjun. “I’m only stressed thinking about what’s going to happen.”

Trust me, Beomgyu thinks. Me too. “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he says automatically. That’s the answer he gives externally to everything.

“Can I ask one more thing?”

“Shoot,” Yeonjun says.

“You guys aren’t like… together, right?”

The rate at which Beomgyu and Yeonjun both shout “No!” would have been funny in any other circumstance.

“I told you that already. I’ve never... no,” Beomgyu adds with a small huff.

Soobin’s eyes go wide, and then he snorts, “Okay, geez, sorry for asking.”

Beomgyu places his hand on his cheek. He’s so warm now. “People can scent their friends, hyung. People scent their friends all the time! It’s not abnormal!”

“I get it, sorry for offending you!”

They all laugh, the room going a little quieter as it dies down. Beomgyu feels slightly better now that he’s had time to digest the situation more and they’re back in the dorms instead of at a hotel. But he doubts the calmness in his chest is going to last for long.

“When do you guys leave for the clinic?” Soobin asks after a few moments.

Beomgyu and Yeonjun both take out their phones at the same time. “Around twenty minutes,” Yeonjun says.

Okay, twenty minutes of calm, basically. He’ll savour it while he can, since it’ll inevitably go to shit soon.

“I think I’m going to take Kai and Taehyun out for dinner, so… text me when you guys get back, if you get back before us.” Soobin says, already heading towards the doorway.

“Mm.”

“And also…” Soobin trails off. “Never mind, I’ll see you two later.”

As he’s about to ask Soobin what he wanted to say, he’s already out of the room and shutting the door behind him.

After he leaves, Beomgyu stands still, not knowing what to do. Twenty minutes isn’t enough time to do anything, and he doesn’t feel like answering fan posts or anything like that. He looks at Yeonjun who is, in turn, looking at the floor.

Swallowing, Beomgyu goes over and sits beside him on the bed. The burst of irritation from him earlier has dissipated from the air, so Beomgyu has no way to tell what he’s thinking other than pure observation.

Guilt, most likely, based off common sense of how Yeonjun has felt and acted all day.

“Can we make a truce?” Yeonjun speaks up abruptly. He has that look on his face he gets when he’s dead set on doing something, the one that makes Beomgyu want to break eye contact on instinct because of how focused it is. Beomgyu enjoys attention but he hates being perceived as vulnerable, which is exactly how it feels to have Yeonjun’s face so close to his, staring at him so intently.

“A truce?”

“No more apologising to each other.”

Yeonjun holds out his pinky in between them. The little black hearts painted on his nails from their performance yesterday have been scratched off.

It’s strange for him to imagine Yeonjun feeling equally as bad as he does about all this. He can’t see how this is Yeonjun’s fault in the slightest. It almost pisses Beomgyu off because it’s so far-fetched and self-sacrificial that if anyone else was acting so guilt-ridden in the same situation, Beomgyu would assume they were essentially humble bragging—except Yeonjun really is that nice, so Beomgyu knows that’s not it.

Beomgyu isn’t sure if he will be able to keep the promise, but he entwines his own pinky around Yeonjun’s and they shake on it.

Notes:

"omg ms ninetq why did it take a month and a half to update you said that the fic was DONE..."

so when i posted chapter 1 of this fic i did actually have it all written... but then the more i reread it the more i hated it and started tearing it apart. the original idea i had was a lot less serious but i kept thinking about the concept and i really wanted to take advantage of all the worldbuilding i did for this fic by writing, well, it more seriously, lol. i'm sorry if i scammed anyone into thinking this would be pure fluff because it's definitely more hurt/comfort than anything... 😭 i didn't mean to mislead anyone but i'm much happier with the plot now... so!!

i really love the omegaverse dynamics i wrote into this fic so i hope you guys will enjoy them as well!!

thank you for reading, let me know what you think <3

Chapter 3: Yeonjun

Notes:

small tw for needles + vaguely bad eating habits

Yeonjun tries not to stare holes into Beomgyu’s profile as they sit in the company car waiting for the go-ahead to enter the clinic, but it’s hard not to. Even with a person’s worth of space in between them, it doesn’t take him being able to smell Beomgyu’s scent to know that he’s anxious. He’s been picking at the nail on his left index finger for the past five minutes, watching people outside pass by rather than at Yeonjun.

He’s never been so helpless in his life. Sitting in the hotel room with their manager and the members, having his mistakes listed one by one, and then hearing that it would be Beomgyu suffering the brunt of the problem—the guilt weighs down on his chest like a brick. Beomgyu has been uncomfortably quiet as well, making it clear he doesn’t want to speak. Yeonjun keeps having to swallow the urge to apologise.

Earlier, when they were finishing up moving Beomgyu’s stuff into Yeonjun’s room, Yeonjun attempted to step out of the room without warning for one second in order to go to the bathroom; and found Beomgyu standing directly behind him one second later, hand outstretched and ready to grab Yeonjun’s shoulder.

When he realised what he was doing, Beomgyu moved away so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet and sprained his ankle. Yeonjun stood shocked, mostly because of how confused Beomgyu looked at his own actions. Then Beomgyu mumbled out a “just go” and quite literally shoved Yeonjun out of the room.

Yeonjun is trying, but he just can’t wrap his head around it. He’s never put much stock into biology or mating in general, for many reasons: he’s too young for it, they’re not in a career path where it’s relevant, and the whole concept in general isn’t something which their generation puts as much of an emphasis on as the previous one. So never in his life has he considered mating as a potential issue within their group, let alone imprinting.

He hates that word. It sounds so demeaning. And then whenever he thinks that he hates it, he thinks about how much more Beomgyu must hate it, and…

“Hey,” he says gently, reaching tentatively to tap Beomgyu’s arm. Beomgyu, to his credit, only flinches a little when touched. His head tilts to face Yeonjun. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about the meeting after this.” The smile Beomgyu gives him is so painfully fake that Yeonjun would rather he didn’t try and smile at all.

Beomgyu said earlier that he thought Yeonjun only offered to help originally because of some biological urge or whatever—but there’s no way he really thinks that. Right? Yeonjun hasn’t ever heard him discuss biology of all things before, aside from talking about how it’s bullshit. Beomgyu is the type of person who goes out of his way to watch movies that don’t follow the mold.

Yeonjun wouldn’t know how to go about refuting it because it seems like something that should be obvious already. Sure, the scenting may have worked because Beomgyu is an omega (worked a little too well, really), but that had nothing to do with Yeonjun’s intentions. He’s one-hundred percent sure of that.

He has no idea how to prove it to him though.

And he doesn’t want to push too hard and make Beomgyu feel as if he’s being forced to talk. Especially when they’re already being forced to be in proximity to each other. On the other hand, Beomgyu isn’t exactly the type of person who willingly offers up information on how he feels.

What a mess. He squeezes Beomgyu’s shoulder in a way he hopes is comforting. Beomgyu doesn’t look towards him, only continues to stare out the window. Yeonjun holds back a sigh and does the same on the other side.

Eventually, after half an hour, their manager pulls open the front-right door of the van and pokes his head in to tell them, “You can come in now. There were some legal things that had to be taken care of first, but it’s all ready now.”

Yeonjun imagines they could’ve been allowed to wait inside, at least, instead of being stuffed in a van alone for an hour, but whatever. Since Beomgyu isn’t speaking up on it, neither will Yeonjun. Today probably isn’t the day to instigate arguments with their management, especially when it’s not their fault things are so murky and uncertain. That’s beyond their pay grade.

Checking to make sure he has his phone in his bag, he zips it up and exits the van. Walking around to the other side, Beomgyu is by his side in an instant. At the same time Beomgyu is doing his best to avoid locking eyes with him, his fingers brush against Yeonjun’s own restlessly. Yeonjun grasps his wrist firmly to stop him, and entwines their fingers together.

Beomgyu makes a small, low noise, so quiet that Yeonjun wouldn’t have heard at all if he wasn’t so focused on him right now. Realising he might have held onto him too hard, he loosens his grip, only for Beomgyu to tighten it, not allowing him to.

It’s normally Yeonjun holding Beomgyu’s hand, not the other way around, so it would’ve been cute that Beomgyu is being so clingy if it wasn’t for the circumstances. Their manager glances between their hands, opening his mouth like he wants to say something. In the end he doesn’t, and simply gestures for them to follow him inside.

The clinic is squeaky-clean, all whites and blues with not a speck of dirt in sight. It smells strongly of cleaning supplies, like they wiped down the entire place before they entered. His nose itches and he breathes through his mouth.

“Ew,” Beomgyu mutters under his breath.

The doctor who greets them is red-faced, with tousled hair matted to his forehead. Even professionals aren’t exempt from feeling pressured by treating celebrities, Yeonjun has learned over the past few years. And it must be worse considering the current subject matter. If Yeonjun were a doctor treating two idols for an imprinting bond, he would be bursting from the stress of not being able to tell anybody.

He attempts a smile, and the doctor smiles back, clearing his throat. Yeonjun can’t tell if he’s a beta or not. Most doctors in this field are, but with suppressants rapidly becoming more effective, he’s seen more and more alphas and omegas pursue it as well.

“I’m Doctor Yang,” he greets with a slight bow. Yeonjun and Beomgyu both bow back. “We’re going to need to run quite a few tests. Are either of you afraid of needles?”

“No,” Yeonjun says, and Beomgyu shakes his head.

“Good, good… alright. I can’t give you any food until after we’re finished, but if you guys would like water, you can have some now. Please wait here a moment, I’ll call for you two in a moment.” The doctor scurries off into the examination room.

Their manager holds out two unopened water bottles for them, and they each take one. Yeonjun unscrews the cap and downs the entire thing at once, the bottle crinkling loudly under his hand.

“If you guys are uncomfortable at any point, I’ll be right here,” their manager says, pointing to the door. “So just call if you need anything. But we’ve brought some of the others here before and it went fine, so I have faith in this clinic.”

“Really?” Beomgyu perks up for the first time since they left the dorm. “Who? When?”

Their manager chuckles. “You know I can’t tell you that,” he says. “Not for the same reasons as you two, of course, but they specialise in this sort of stuff, so whatever they say is almost certainly going to be accurate. They’re going to send the tests off to some other labs just in case, though.”

“Mm.” Beomgyu nibbles on his lower lip. “How long… did they say what the normal time was? Everything on the internet says different things.”

“There’s so many variables which factor into when a bond can be broken, it’s impossible to know without testing. Hence why we’re here.”

Variables could mean a lot of things. Proximity? Emotional attachment? Biological compatibility? All of the above? If it’s all of the above, they’re so screwed. Just by proximity alone, not counting any of the others.

Their manager sees Yeonjun’s expression and his smile tightens. “Don’t worry, you two. I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he placates. He doesn’t sound too certain himself, but Yeonjun appreciates the effort, especially since he knows their manager is likely cussing them out inside.

“You can come in now,” the doctor calls. Their manger takes out his phone, silently urging them to get on with it. With a sigh, Yeonjun follows Beomgyu into the other room.

There’s two plush examination table side-by-side, both with their backs propped up so they can sit upright. Beside them are stacks of empty blood bags and an assortment of monitors Yeonjun has never seen in his life.

Beomgyu takes the seat on the right, so Yeonjun slides onto the other one. Even the cushions on the examination tables feel new, and the stiffness doesn’t help the soreness in his back. Medical clinics of any kind are never comfortable, but somehow, this one feels a thousand times worse.

At least the clinical scent isn’t as strong in this room. He hopes that helps Beomgyu relax a bit.

The doctor pulls over an office chair and sits in front of them, legs crossed, two clipboards on his lap. “Have either of you ever taken a bonding test before?” he asks.

“No,” Yeonjun speaks for both of them.

The doctor jots Yeonjun’s answer down. “And have either of you ever been bonded before?” He pauses then clarifies, “With non-family members.”

This is where their inexperience in this area must show, because neither of them respond. Yeonjun barely knows what constitutes as a bond—he thought he did, but now that he’s stuck in this situation, he’s not as sure. Is their relationship with the other members a type of bond? His childhood best friends? He used to scent them sometimes, back when they were too young to have a concept of intimacy.

“Let me rephrase that.” The doctor taps his pen against the paper on the clipboard. “The easiest way to tell if you’re bonded to someone is if you can smell them from far away, since you get attuned to their scent. Can either of you do that for anyone else?”

Yeonjun can’t even do that for Beomgyu. They both shake their heads, and the doctor writes it down.

The next few questions are along the same lines: How do you think you guys bonded? Yeonjun stammers through the story about how Beomgyu couldn’t sleep and Yeonjun wanted to help. To his credit, the doctor doesn’t flinch. Yeonjun doesn’t know why he expected him to; he hears worse stuff than this every day, most likely.

Have you guys ever been attracted to each other before this? Obviously, since he has working eyes and ears, Yeonjun knows Beomgyu is attractive, but he’s never sat down and thought about him like… that. Not seriously, anyways. Beomgyu thinks for a moment longer and answers the same as him.

Have either of you ever engaged in similar acts with any of your other friends? The wording makes Yeonjun flush. He violently shakes his head. Beomgyu mumbles something about letting Soobin use him as a teddy bear two years ago, back when they were roommates, but that’s it.

Yeonjun can’t imagine Soobin and Beomgyu cuddling. Especially two years ago as roommates when they weren’t as close. He wonders what Soobin did to convince him to go along with that.

Or maybe Beomgyu wanted it too. Soobin is an alpha, after all, and his instincts are way stronger than Yeonjun’s. Maybe it was some sort of biological thing. Yeonjun files this information away for later. He shouldn’t jump to conclusions based off of a single sentence. That’s not fair to either of them.

After they finish going through all the questions, the doctor sets the clipboards aside and stands up. “We’re going to do multiple tests at once. It shouldn’t take too long. First we’ll only be monitoring your guys’ heart rates, then we’ll be doing the same thing while drawing blood. You can lie down and relax if you’d like to, there’s nothing else you need to do other than sit.”

Yeonjun doesn’t move an inch. Beomgyu plays with a loose thread on his sweater. At this rate, he’s going to unwind the threading of his entire sleeve.

“… Alright,” the doctor says with a heavy laugh when neither of them take his advice. “Let’s get started, then.”

The whole procedure takes less than five minutes. It’s still the longest five minutes of his life. He’s not sure what to do other than stare at the wall, which quickly becomes boring; except he can’t stare at Beomgyu either, since that would just be creepy. He focuses on the slow, unsteady beeping of the machines around them instead, challenging himself to try and make a song out of it. It doesn’t work.

He winces as the needle is pulled out from his arm. Beomgyu stiffens, then exhales deeply when the same is done to him. Little cotton balls are taped onto their arms over where the needle was, and Yeonjun tests how far he can raise his arm without it hurting. It’s not too bad.

“It’ll take around twenty minutes for me to review everything.” The doctor untangles them from the mess of cables hooked up to them. “I’m not sure what the, um, procedure is for you, but if you’d like to leave and eat and come back, then…”

“It’s up to our manager,” Yeonjun says.

The doctor, seemingly unsure of what to say, makes a noise of affirmation and ushers them out of the room. Yeonjun’s legs are wobbly as he gets on his own two feet again, the world tilting on its axis for a solid second before he can catch his balance.

He’s not afraid of needles, but he’s never been good with getting blood drawn. Beomgyu holds onto his arm to steady him. His palms are hot and sweaty, so much so that they leave a little damp spot on Yeonjun’s sleeve.

Their manager is sitting by the window, legs crossed, still on his phone. The door to the examination room makes a screeching noise as it opens for them and he looks up. “Finished?”

“They said it’ll take twenty minutes for the results.” Beomgyu’s hand falls off Yeonjun’s arm once they enter the lobby again.

“That’s not enough time to do anything substantial, so we’ll have to wait here. It’s best that we avoid going out, anyways,” their manager says. He pats the spot beside him on the couch, and Yeonjun makes his way over, ready to sit down until he notices that Beomgyu is still standing in place.

“What’s wrong?” Yeonjun asks, straightening his back. It’s difficult to gauge Beomgyu’s expression with his bangs covering most of his eyes, but he can tell from the purse of his lips that he’s unhappy. Maybe the needle was more painful for him than he let on. Or he’s embarrassed, which for Beomgyu, would track. “Are you okay?”

“Can I wait in the van?” Beomgyu addresses their manager. “It’s just, the smell in here…”

Their manager blinks, confused momentarily, before he clues in. Yeonjun feels like an idiot now for not having clued in. In the time since they entered, Yeonjun had gotten used to the scent without really realising it, but he shouldn’t have expected Beomgyu to as well.

Yeonjun has gone the past five or so years trying not to fixate on Beomgyu being an omega, to avoid things becoming awkward between them. So now that he has no choice but to, he feels like he’s still catching up in understanding even ten-percent of what’s happening in Beomgyu’s mind. Why he might react to things. How those reactions differ from Yeonjun’s because of reasons he spent years avoiding.

Being an omega seems hard. Not only for societal reasons, but because they have the reputation of being overly sensitive, and Beomgyu—personality-wise—is already overly sensitive. No wonder he’s doing his best to repress everything. He doesn’t want to be seen as a stereotypical hysterical omega. Yeonjun wishes he would allow himself to let loose more; if there’s any situation that calls for hysterics, it’s this one.

“Right,” their manager says. “You two go back to the van. I’ll call you back in when they say it’s finished.”

“Okay,” Beomgyu says gruffly, and glances towards Yeonjun. The bags underneath Beomgyu’s eyes are somehow deeper than they were a few hours ago, and Yeonjun bites the inside of his cheek so he doesn’t openly frown.

Since the clinic is technically closed, the parking lot is completely empty. Beomgyu uses their manager’s keys to open the van and he climbs back into his original seat, behind the driver.

“Is there anything I can do?” Yeonjun blurts out.

“No,” Beomgyu answers, and faces the window, resting his chin on his palm. “I’m just thinking. Don’t worry.”

How can I not worry, Yeonjun wonders. Beomgyu’s opinion of himself—and Yeonjun, for that matter—must be dreadfully low if believes Yeonjun can sit here and zone out about work or something else while this is going on. Between that and his bullshit comments earlier on how Yeonjun only helped him because he’s an alpha, there’s a lot more going on in Beomgyu’s mind surrounding their dynamics than he thought.

The silence that falls between them physically hurts. There’s so much he wants to say but can’t. He can’t bring himself to take out his phone because he’s too focused on trying to sort through his thoughts. It’s exceedingly difficult when he barely knows what he’s thinking about in the first place. Too much. Not enough.

The only thing he’s absolutely certain of is that he wants to take Beomgyu into his arms and give him a nice, long hug. But even on a regular day, Beomgyu sometimes rejects their hugs, so Yeonjun doubts he’ll accept it when he’s clearly fighting an internal battle not to rely on Yeonjun too much for affection. He’ll try later, once they’re back in the comfort of their dorm.

Yeonjun shuts his eyes and tips his head back, so he doesn’t end up staring holes into Beomgyu’s profile. His mind drifts back to Beomgyu and Soobin cuddling, which only makes him uncomfortable, so he changes gears to the present instead. The only noise in the van is Beomgyu’s foot tapping against the floor, and while listening to the steady thump, thump, thump, he ends up drifting off.

 

Yeonjun is still groggy re-entering the clinic, having fallen asleep a little too deeply during his half-hour power nap. He hadn’t realised how tired he was until he passed out. It’s not as if he didn’t sleep well last night—because he did—but it seems like the train ride and everything else that happened took its toll on him.

“Okay.” The doctor shuffles the papers on the reception desk. He’s put on a pair of sleek black glasses and shed his jacket. “Is everybody here who needs to be?”

Just them and their manager. “Mhm,” their manager hums. “What did the results say?”

“We tested for multiple things—as you know.” The doctor holds up one paper, then sets it aside and picks up the one below it, turning it so that it faces them. “Testing a bond isn’t as simple as being able to look at a certain factor and state ‘it’ll break by this time period’.” There’s a bunch of graphs on the paper Yeonjun doesn’t comprehend at all. “Rather, we make deductions on the time based off of previous results from other patients and the overlapping factors.”

He points to the second graph on the page, a squiggly line that goes straight from the bottom of the graph to the top. “The first one is biological compatibility, which is a term I’m sure you’ve already heard lots about. The scientific definition is more specific than the societal one—which factors in things like predispositions towards certain scents—for example, if someone has a similar scent to your parent’s, you’re more likely to like them. Things like that.”

Ew. The last thing Yeonjun wants to think of when he’s around Beomgyu is his parents. He shivers. With that image, he’s more awake.

“Sorry, but,” Beomgyu interrupts. His voice wavers, “Can we just hear the results?”

The doctor clicks his tongue. “It’s important for you to know what contributed to this happening. One, so that it doesn’t happen again, should you so wish—and two, you should be aware of your own medical history.”

Coughing into his fist, Beomgyu hides his reddening cheeks with his hand. “I understand. I’m—I’m sorry.” Yeonjun rubs Beomgyu’s upper back in an effort to be comforting, and Beomgyu shakes him off quickly. Yeonjun tries not to take it personally.

The doctor’s face falls with sympathy. “I understand it’s likely embarrassing, considering the circumstances, and the fact you’re an omega…” Now Yeonjun is blushing as well. “But hopefully some of this will put your mind at ease. Anyways, moving on to the results of the first test, I’m sure you’ll be unsurprised to hear that you’re extremely compatible in almost all respects. For bonds that aren’t formed on purpose, this is typically the criteria which causes the most issues.”

Yeonjun had no idea, and he is surprised, but okay. Does this doctor realise the level of suppressants they’re on? How was Yeonjun supposed to know that? It pisses him off a bit to hear everyone talk about how they were supposed to know these things, or how they aren’t surprised by the outcome, or stuff like that; because no one ever told them, certainly.

He takes a deep breath and steels himself. The doctor isn’t being accusatory, so he has no reason to believe he’s looking down on them. He’s just doing his job, he reminds himself.

“How is that possible when I normally—before—can’t pick up his scent?” Beomgyu asks. “How can his scent affect me if I can’t smell it?”

“Well, he did scent you. Even if you weren’t able to smell it very well at the time, your body is still receptive to it. Scents aren’t only comprised of the actual smell of it, but also pheromones that we take in subconsciously,” the doctor answers. “Some people are more inclined to form bonds with each other. You two are an example.”

Yeonjun rubs his temples, holding his elbow in his other hand. “How are we supposed to break the bond if we’re so ‘compatible’,” he uses air quotes, “and we’re not allowed to be apart?”

The doctor sighs. “It’s going to be complicated, certainly. To put it simply, the second, concurrent test we ran was to see how much of each other’s pheromones have entered your body. ‘Bonding’ isn’t some sort of mystical, magical thing. It’s just the name we’ve given to people who have a certain level of traces, pheromones or similar things, of another person in their bloodstream. Your body becomes attuned to theirs, essentially. If you can reverse that, usually by suppressing the ability to secrete pheromones, the bond will break.”

Yeonjun’s head hurts. He’s glad he’s not in the science field—he would never be able to handle breaking down every single topic into so much information.

“I know you two came in here because you were concerned that Yeonjun-ssi had imprinted on Beomgyu-ssi, but that’s not case. Not exactly, at least.” Yeonjun’s eyes widen. “Yeonjun-ssi just passes the threshold to be considered as bonded, but only just. I imagine that due to the amount of suppressants he’s on, combined with his lower-than-average levels of sensitivity, it meant neither of you could tell.”

“So, does that mean…” Yeonjun trails off. Is he going to wake up randomly over the next few days and get the urge to jump Beomgyu, like Beomgyu did to him?

“Since you seem to not feel any different,” the doctor pauses to tilt his head at him, and Yeonjun nods in confirmation, “it won’t make much difference in your day-to-day life, so long as you follow our instructions. But legally, we have to treat mutually bonded pairs differently than one-sided bonds, so the procedure to break it is different as well. If it were one-sided, only Beomgyu-ssi would have had to undergo any treatment, but since this qualifies as a normal mating bond…”

“It’ll be more difficult,” their manager speaks up.

“Right. Breaking a bond isn’t something which our bodies like to do. Once we get used to being comfortable around someone, we don’t like change. Of course, this applies to most aspects in life.” The doctor shoves his glasses up the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. “So having to fight against two people’s instincts instead of one makes it far more difficult.”

Beomgyu’s brows furrow. “But if he doesn’t feel anything—”

“Regardless of if he consciously notices the effects, his body is still working through them, the same as yours. Putting the scientific definition of a bond aside, though, there’s some issues which I think may crop up regardless.”

“We expected problems with them being apart, so we’re having them move in together temporarily,” their manager says.

“That’s good, but that’s not the problem I was talking about.” The doctor laughs. It’s not very humorous. “Rather, returning to the actual bond-breaking—as I said, your bodies aren’t going to enjoy the process. And the closer and closer you return to normal, the more your instincts are going to fight against it. Things like mood swings, loss of appetite, fevers…”

Yeonjun grimaces. They already have to deal with those things enough. “And there’s no way to, like… bypass those…?” He feels stupid for asking, but he might as well.

“Short of not breaking the bond, no. And this is all further complicated by the fact that the strength of your pheromones are imbalanced.” His eyes flicker between Yeonjun and Beomgyu. “As you progress in breaking the bond, it’s likely Beomgyu-ssi is going to get more and more aggressive in being around Yeonjun-ssi, in an effort to keep things equal. Omegas are already more susceptible to changes in environment, so we always have to be careful, but you guys will need to take an extraordinary amount of caution, even compared to other couples in similar situations.”

Yeonjun freezes when he smells something tangy and bitter. For a second he thinks it might be his own scent, or the doctor’s, but after exhaling, he instantly recognises it at Beomgyu’s.

He blinks a few times, covering his nose and mouth with his hand in a way he hopes is subtle. The scent is incredibly faint, but it’s still enough to raise the hairs on the back of his neck.

“Aren’t there pills we can take to speed this stuff up?” Beomgyu questions. There’s an edge to his voice that wasn’t there before, like he’s finally snapped and gone from upset to irritated. It leaves Yeonjun on edge as well.

“Well, yes. That’s the most practical path of treatment, and what you’ll likely be put on. However, taking too many at once, or too high of a dosage, will cause, uh… let’s just say, serious problems. The key is to balance pleasing the bond while breaking it at the same time. You’ll need to stick together, ensure you don’t trigger any fight or flight instincts…” The doctor runs his fingers through his hair. “It has to be done gradually or the body will to into shock from the sudden change.”

Their manager frowns. “You said it has to be done gradually. That’ll be roughly—?”

The doctor closes his eyes. He seems reluctant to answer, and he speaks slowly, “Three to six months, depending on your initial reaction. We’ll have to monitor the dosage and results carefully in order to—”

He keeps talking, but Yeonjun doesn’t listen.

All he hears is three to six months. Three to six months. Six months. Six months?!

“Six—six months?!” Yeonjun yells. “Six months?”

“We can’t—that’s insane, we can’t deal with this for six months,” Beomgyu whispers. “We have things to do. We can’t deal with—with this at the same time.”

“I said three to six, not six,” the doctor says. He narrows his eyes at them. “But that’s my guess, yes. Either way, it’ll certainly be at least two. The dosage we’re starting you two on is very low. Remember, it’s essentially like withdrawing from a drug dependence—except the drug is the other person. Suddenly removing it all completely will only cause more problems in the future.”

“How is that any better than slowly going crazy over the course of half a year?” Beomgyu questions, biting his knuckles.

“Please trust me as a professional when I say it is,” the doctor says, stern but gentle.

Beomgyu’s sour scent fills Yeonjun’s nostrils and he’s forced to cover his nose with his hand so he can breathe. Beomgyu, likewise, inhales and must be hit with Yeonjun’s own—despite how Yeonjun can’t smell it—and makes a low noise of frustration.

The doctor pulls off his glasses and rubs his eyes with the heel of his palms. “We’ll work closely with your management to make it as smooth as possible, but I’m not going to lie and say it’ll be easy. There’s a reason why breaking a bond is considered a major medical event. It’s generally only one pill or injection a day, but the side effects can be extremely painful if you don’t follow our instructions.” His lips pinch together and he drops his hands to the counter. “If you two need to step out for a moment, I’ll continue speaking to your manager about the details.”

“That’s likely for the best,” their manager agrees. “You two, get some fresh air before you give each other panic attacks.”

Yeonjun opens his mouth to say he wants to stay and hear as well, but before he can say anything other than “I—” Beomgyu is grabbing him and dragging him out the door of the building.

 

The other three members are sitting on the couch together when Yeonjun and Beomgyu arrive home; Kai squished in between Soobin and Taehyun, a single blanket wrapping them all up. Yeonjun kicks the door open a bit too hard and it slams against the wall, creating a loud bang! and tearing their attention away from the TV.

“Hey.” Taehyun sits up, the blanket falling off his shoulders. “You guys are back early.”

“Yeonjun hyung, Beomgyu hyung,” Kai calls. He scrambles to get off the couch, elbowing Soobin in the gut in the process.

Beomgyu shrinks away, holding onto his coat, negative energy radiating off of him in waves. Kai falters, “Did it not go well?”

“I thought you guys weren’t supposed to be back until later,” Yeonjun says, brows furrowing. He wanted the dorm to be empty when they got back so that neither of them had to worry about explaining things for a while.

“We ended up ordering in instead,” Soobin explains. He walks up beside Kai, patting him on the lower back, sensing that Yeonjun and Beomgyu don’t want to talk. Kai frowns and leans into him. “We ordered food for you two as well. It’s in the fridge. You should go heat it up.”

“Thanks, Soobin-ah,” Yeonjun replies. They haven’t eaten anything all day. His stomach rumbles.

“Wait, is—is everything okay?” Kai asks tentatively.

“We can talk about it after we eat, we’re—I’m starving,” Yeonjun says. “Okay?”

Reluctantly, Kai nods and allows Soobin to pull him back to the couch, where Taehyun is sitting watching them. Yeonjun turns to Beomgyu, shrugging off his jacket.

Since they left the clinic, Beomgyu has been dead silent, not even saying ‘goodbye’ to their manager when they exited the van. Yeonjun rests his hand on Beomgyu’s upper arm. Hopefully, he’ll feel better once he gets some sustenance inside him. Yeonjun can’t stand to see him so forlorn.

The food the other three ordered turns out to be Chinese food, and Yeonjun shoves two bowls in the microwave. Glancing around the corner to the living room to ensure that nobody is listening in on them—they aren’t, they’ve returned to watching TV—Yeonjun lays his elbows on the kitchen counter, facing Beomgyu.

“….”

Beomgyu sits on one of the stools, legs crossed. Yeonjun sighs, chewing on his lower lip.

“It’s not one-sided, at least,” Yeonjun says. Beomgyu’s eyes slide towards him. He hums. “That’s a good thing, right? So you won’t suffer alone.”

“It’s essentially one-sided. Or at least, it’s not equal. So it’s basically the same as we expected,” Beomgyu mutters, sounding bitter.

“Still. I’m glad we can go through this together, instead of just you by yourself.”

“I don’t think you should be glad,” Beomgyu snorts, hiding his face in his hands. “Where’s your self-preservation instincts? You should be upset. It’ll be worse for you than if it was completely one-sided. You have to take this gross medication now too. And all these restrictions they’re going to place on us, most likely…”

Yeonjun scratches his cheek. “Of course I’m upset, but… my bigger priority is you,” he says honestly. It would be selfish of him to make a show of how irritated he is by it when Beomgyu is the one worse off still.

The microwave beeps loudly and Yeonjun jumps, quickly opening the door so it stops making noise. Carefully, so he doesn’t burn himself, Yeonjun takes out the bowls and sets them onto the counter, one on his side and one on Beomgyu’s.

Beomgyu lifts his head enough to breathe in the smell of the food. Yeonjun’s mouth is watering at the sight, rows of chicken placed neatly over noodles. He waits for Beomgyu to sit properly and take a pair of chopsticks before he begins eating himself.

“Six months…” Beomgyu mutters. He nibbles on a piece of chicken. “That means I’ll have to live in your room for half a year. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Yeonjun says, waving his chopsticks at Beomgyu. “We said we would stop apologising to each other.”

Beomgyu grimaces. “That was when I thought it was going to be like, a month maximum.”

“Whatever, we’ll get through it.” Not that they have a choice. “Don’t feel sorry for me, you have more important things to think about. Like, um… that reminds me. I’m going to ask if we can get more of those scent blockers, so you don’t have to worry about smelling me all the time by accident.”

Chewing on the ends of his chopsticks, Beomgyu agrees quietly, “That’s a good idea.”

“But actually, earlier, I could smell you too. When we were at the clinic…”

“That’s because I was upset and we were in an enclosed area, that’s not anything unusual,” Beomgyu interjects. He sets his chopsticks down and takes a long sip of cold water. “You can smell Kai when he’s upset. It’s the same as that. It doesn’t have anything to do with us being bonded.”

“Yeah, but that’s Kai, not you.” And everyone can smell Kai when he’s not wearing scent blockers. It’s not exactly a feat.

“I’m normally better at controlling it, that’s why you could pick it up. Even our manager could, and he’s a beta, so I don’t think it has anything to do with the bond,” Beomgyu says. His shoulders slump. “I’m… yeah. I’m just tired. I really want to sleep. I’m not that hungry.”

Beomgyu only took five bites of his food, maximum. Beomgyu-sized bites, not normal ones. “Eat a little more.” Beomgyu doesn’t move, so Yeonjun leans over the counter to scoop up a bit of chicken, lifting it to Beomgyu’s lips. Beomgyu whines, sitting back, and Yeonjun practically climbs onto the counter to follow him. “Please?”

“I feel like I’m going to be sick,” Beomgyu says, shaking his head. “I’ll eat tomorrow morning, I promise, but not now.”

Yeonjun squints at him. Beomgyu pleads with his eyes, lips firmly pressed together, and Yeonjun gives up with a sigh. “Alright,” he concedes. Omegas have more specific nutritional needs, even male ones with vestigial traits like Beomgyu, so normally Yeonjun would pressure him to eat anyways; but he can tell Beomgyu is about to pass out either from stress or exhaustion, and he doesn’t want to be the cause of more difficulties for him.

He’ll have to wake up early tomorrow morning and make sure Beomgyu eats properly. Maybe he’ll ask Taehyun to prepare something tonight so that all Beomgyu has to do in the morning is heat it up.

“I’m going to shower first,” Beomgyu mumbles. He gets back on his feet. “And then I… I’ll go to bed, in your room, I guess.”

“Alright,” Yeonjun repeats. He’s not tired, not since he woke up from his twenty-minute nap. And besides, he has to go clue in the others on what happened. He’d rather they hear it from him than from an email from their manager. “You can use like… pillows or blankets or whatever in my room. Anything you want.”

“Thank you.” Beomgyu brushes his fringe away from his face, and for one second, Yeonjun sees his eyes properly, shiny and framed by dark circles.

He goes to exit the room, and Yeonjun rushes forward without thinking, pulling him into a hug. Yeonjun has never noticed until now how Beomgyu is smaller than him. It seemed like an inconsequential amount before—barely two centimetres—but now it seems massive all of the sudden. Like Yeonjun could cover him with his whole body. Beomgyu freezes momentarily, then relaxes, hugging him back, arms falling loosely around Yeonjun’s middle.

Yeonjun noses along Beomgyu’s shoulder, but he can’t get to his scent gland from over his sweater. Beomgyu mumbles something, too slurred and quiet for Yeonjun to understand, and Yeonjun fluffs up Beomgyu’s hair.

“Go take a shower and rest,” Yeonjun says, stepping away. “I’ll deal with the others.”

He gives Yeonjun a small smile, then walks off towards the bathroom. Yeonjun stands in the kitchen by himself until he hears the shower turn on. After cleaning up his bowl and packaging away Beomgyu’s barely-touched meal, he splashes his face with cold water, rubbing his face aggressively with a hand towel.

Three to six months of this. Acting like they’re bonded—well, it’s not acting, they are bonded—while simultaneously breaking that bond… it sounds like torture, frankly speaking. But hearing that they’re not being forced apart or something takes some of that weight off his shoulders.

Beomgyu is an adult and he doesn’t need someone to take care of him, but Yeonjun was terrified that all the progress they’d make in their friendship would be ripped apart by this. Yeonjun likes taking care of him. And a part of him is driven by the nagging urge to somehow prove to Beomgyu that it’s not just because of their bond or compatibility or because Beomgyu is an omega or whatever that that’s the case, but because they’re friends.

He’s still not sure how he’ll prove it to him, but he will. Yeonjun is many things, but he’s not someone to back down from a challenge, especially not when it comes to the well-being of those he loves.

“You okay?” a voice interrupts Yeonjun’s dazed thinking. Yeonjun drops the towel from his face. “I tried to distract them for as long as possible, but we need to know what’s going on,” Soobin says.

Yeonjun runs his fingers through his hair. The other three deserve to hear what’s going on from them directly, no matter how much Yeonjun doesn’t want to talk about it. “Yeah, sorry. I got distracted.”

The other alpha nods, glancing over his shoulder to the living room. It’s silent. Yeonjun bets Taehyun and Kai are eavesdropping on them right now. “Is Beomgyu…”

“He said he’s tired, and I—I didn’t want to stop him from trying to sleep,” Yeonjun admits. If Beomgyu passes out from exhaustion, that’s still better than forcing himself to stay up. “I told him I’d tell you guys myself.”

Soobin’s brows furrow and he hums. His gaze shifts down the hall, where the shower is running. As Beomgyu’s best friend, Yeonjun can imagine how desperate he is to speak to him privately. It really speaks to his self-control that he’s able to give Beomgyu space, particularly considering Soobin must be fighting some instinctual pull to check up on him, not only as Beomgyu’s friend but as their pack leader as well.

“… Hopefully he actually gets some rest,” Soobin says, after a pause. “Alright, we’ll talk without him, I guess. Taehyunnie, Huening, get in here.” He looks at Yeonjun again. “So, how did it actually go?”

Yeonjun sighs. “Where do I begin? Well, first of all…”

Once Yeonjun is finished explaining everything that happened at the clinic to them, an awkward silence settles in, until Kai clears his throat and suggests they finish the movie they were watching before.

Their recording for tomorrow has already been cleared, thank fucking god, so Yeonjun doesn’t feel as bad about not going to bed at a decent time, and allows himself the privilege of joining them. It’s nice to turn off his brain for a while and not have to think.

Kai lets Yeonjun play with his hair the whole time, and Yeonjun is hyperaware of how Kai is rubbing comforting omega pheromones all over him in an effort to distract him. It must work, because by the time the movie ends, some of Yeonjun’s anxiety has dissipated. Not all, but some.

Yeonjun bids the rest of them goodnight and goes to wash up, taking a quick, scalding hot shower before tiptoeing into his room. Despite how the lights are all off, he half-expects to see Beomgyu sitting against the wall on his phone, straining his eyes in complete darkness.

The only noise that greets him, aside from the creaking of the door, is a slow, steady snore. Yeonjun cracks a grin as he shuts the door behind him. Beomgyu dragged his mattress close to the entrance of the room, opposite to Yeonjun’s bed, and Yeonjun only has to take a few steps to crouch down in front of him.

Beomgyu has his cheek squished against his pillow, one arm slipped under his head and the other keeping his blanket—Yeonjun’s blanket—tucked over his body. Yeonjun doesn’t feel any different than usual watching over him, just the same, quiet fondness as he always carries for the omega, so it’s strange to be hit with the realisation that they’re bonded. Technically speaking, Beomgyu is his mate.

He rubs his thumb over Beomgyu’s cheek and mumbles, “’Night, Gyu,” to which Beomgyu only sniffles and curls further into himself. Man, if this is what Beomgyu looks like every night when he sleeps, Yeonjun might not survive. He’s too cute.

Careful not to wake Beomgyu, Yeonjun pulls back and makes his way over to his own bed. Lying down, he fixes his pillows and sheets so he can roll on his side, facing Beomgyu. If he’s lucky, Beomgyu will make enough noise when he wakes up that it’ll wake Yeonjun as well, and he can ensure Beomgyu eats the breakfast Taehyun packaged for him.

For now, though, he yawns and shuts his eyes. Normally Yeonjun will drift off planning out what he has to do the next day, but there’s too much going on for him to do that right now. He has no idea what their next few days—let alone weeks or months—will be like. Dealing with this bonding issue at the same time as their comeback seems impossible.

But he has no choice, and he can’t freak out over it, since Beomgyu will sense it. He takes a deep, shaky breath and tucks his face against his pillow. What’s most important is keeping their group—their pack, as safe and calm as possible, he reminds himself. It’s his duty not only as their oldest alpha but as their friend. With that on his mind, he lets the tug of sleep overtake him.

Notes:

my brain: nobody is reading this for the plot calm down... stop writing so much stop worldbuilding please i'm begging
my other brain: no one can stop me from writing 60k words of slow burn!!!!

i'm just too obsessed with the worldbuilding i'm sorry!! but i'm excited to write the next few chapters. i know i'm the slowest updater ever but to be fair i've written 150k (!!!!!) in 1 and a half months for my twitter au so i feel like i deserve a pass for taking so long to update this one. but anyways i will never abandon it so don't worry even if i take a month i will update it eventually, thank you for bearing with me!! :hug::hug:

i know this was just 8k words of pure plot and barely anything fun but i hope you enjoyed it anyways 🥺 and please feel free to tell me what you thought of it i cannot overstate how much comments sustain me LOL i still reread old comments for motivation haha

Chapter 4: Beomgyu

Beomgyu wakes up better rested than he has in month, which is a problem in itself.

It can’t be later than six in the morning, with only a few rays of sunlight streaming through the window. It doesn’t strain his eyes but his lids are still heavy and he buries his face into his pillow, forcing himself to breathe slowly. In and out. In and out.

The air in the room is full Yeonjun’s scent, the smell of grass after it rains, like a forest. Beomgyu has never enjoyed camping, nor is he a huge outdoors fan in general. Not any more than indoors, anyways. Yet somehow the unfamiliarity doesn’t detract from how badly he wants to wrap himself in it like a blanket and never come out.

There’s a snore from the other side of the room. Another wave of rain. Beomgyu wonders what Yeonjun is dreaming about.

He doesn’t fully understand how their lopsided bond works, but he does know enough to comfortably assume Yeonjun’s dreams likely aren’t plagued with Beomgyu as Beomgyu’s were of him. He can’t recall any of the details aside from Yeonjun’s presence in them. But then again, Yeonjun appeared in his dreams sometimes even before this, so maybe it’s not a side effect of the bond but rather Beomgyu being too focused on him.

Either way, the doctor was clear that their bond only just met the criteria for not being one-way, meaning whatever symptoms Beomgyu has, there’s a solid chance Yeonjun won’t get them at all. It’s like he’s being punished for existing. All he wanted was to be able to sleep, and if he got closer to one of his friends out of it, then he wasn’t going to complain. But the universe couldn’t let him have that.

On the other hand, he’s glad Yeonjun supposedly won’t have to suffer the same misery Beomgyu will go through. He might be more on edge, a little more protective—but he’s not going to have to fight the urge to jump Beomgyu every time he walks by. Hopefully. Good for him, Beomgyu thinks, and he means it. He wouldn’t wish this feeling on his worst enemy.

Even right now as he wakes up, his body twitches to walk over and curl up in Yeonjun’s bed with him. He’s probably so cold, because Yeonjun always runs cold. Beomgyu always runs hot in comparison, so it works out, except he doesn’t want to scare Yeonjun by crawling into his bed without permission.

He also wouldn’t know how to explain why he did it, other than I want to, which he doesn’t think is a good enough answer in invading Yeonjun’s personal space.

He’s already intruding on him enough. They’re going to be going through three (or six!) months of him stuck to Yeonjun’s side like some sort of tall, irritatingly persistent leech. That’s months of him in Yeonjun’s room, giving him no time alone, monopolising his attention, forcing him to take care of Beomgyu when he should be focused on himself.

Knowing Yeonjun, he won’t mind. Yeonjun rarely blows up at people, not even at Beomgyu, who adores testing his patience. Instead, when Yeonjun gets annoyed he becomes dry and distant. Which, in Beomgyu’s opinion, is far worse, because Yeonjun never realises when he’s doing it and so he’ll staunchly deny it over and over until he works through whatever is in his head and moves on.

It doesn’t happen that much, not anymore, because they’ve gotten good at communicating as a group. But Beomgyu expects this ordeal to throw them back into the stone age of friendship.

The thought of Yeonjun being annoyed at him, even subconsciously, even rightfully, makes him want to wallow in misery. And there’s nothing either of them can do about it. Three to six months of waiting, diligently taking their medicine, and engaging in some sort of strange emotional tug of war is all they can do.

Now that he’s beginning to wake up properly, the calm which eased the ache in his bones is washing away along with the haze of sleep in his brain. Falling back asleep sounds nice, but realistically impossible. The longer he lies here aware of how close Yeonjun is, the more effort he has to put into not lying down with him.

He curls his fingers and toes into the mattress. He’s not going to be weird about this. He’s not. Yeonjun was doing him a favour every night, diligently helping Beomgyu sleep, and though they fucked everything up, Beomgyu doesn’t intend to repay that favour by giving in to these intrusive thoughts reminding him that his supposed mate is five steps away.

With that, he can’t stay in this room. He really, really doesn’t want to get up, one because he’s lazy and two because he doesn’t want to leave Yeonjun, but he has to if he wants any chance of being normal. All he has to do is get up and leave the room. It’s that easy. It is literally that easy.

The amount of energy it takes is insurmountable. Once he’s one his feet he rushes out of the room before he can take another breath and catch Yeonjun’s scent. If he stayed for one second longer, his legs would have brought him to the other side of the room.

“You’re up early,” Soobin says when Beomgyu rounds the corner into the kitchen. He winces. If he’d known Soobin was the only person here, he would’ve locked himself in the bathroom until somebody else woke up. “What?”

“Nothing,” Beomgyu mumbles. He opens the fridge door and pretends to stare at the assortment of fruits inside for an absurdly long time. There’s a container full of food with his name scrawled on the front which he assumes carries what is supposed to be his breakfast, but he doubts he would be able to stomach it right now.

Soobin squints at him, in the middle of chopping a bunch of apples, and clears his throat.

“How was your night? Did you sleep well?”

Beomgyu slept fucking fantastic, but he’s not about to say that. “It was okay,” he says simply.

“Just okay? Do you guys need anything else in there?”

“No.”

“Beomgyu—”

“Hyung,” Beomgyu begs, picking a random orange out and shutting the fridge door softly. “I really don’t want to talk about it. Just for like an hour.”

Soobin sets the knife he’s holding down on the counter. He’s wearing Taehyun’s apron and it’s a bit too tight on him, squeezing his waist. Combined with his bedhead, he looks more like a domestic househusband than an idol. Beomgyu would think it’s cute if it wasn’t for how Soobin is giving him the look. The I’m disappointed in you look.

“You can’t ignore it—” Soobin begins, exactly like Beomgyu knew he would.

“I’m not ignoring it,” he interjects. “I’m just—”

“I let you run off last night because I knew you were overwhelmed, but this is going to be our lives for the next—what, three to six months?” Soobin’s brows furrow and he looks back at the cutting board in front of him. “I’m not letting you not talk about it. You’ll end up making things worse for yourself.”

“I don’t need your advice, hyung,” Beomgyu grumbles, just to be contradictory.

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“You’re so full of yourself!” Beomgyu whisper-yells. He probably does need Soobin’s advice, but if he says as much, Soobin’s big stupid alpha brain is going to take it as a win and hold it over him forever. If Soobin wants to help him, he should be grovelling. Even though Beomgyu is the one being helped.

“So you have everything all worked out then? You’re totally fine. No worries at all,” Soobin drawls. He picks the knife back up. It glints under the harsh lighting of the kitchen and Beomgyu briefly wonders if he’s in a horror movie. It would make sense.

“I didn’t say that,” Beomgyu huffs, picking at the skin of the orange with his nail. “But we don’t need to figure that all out now.”

“You’re a procrastinator,” Soobin muses. “At least when it comes to your own problems. So yeah, you do need to figure it all out now, else you won’t figure it out ever and then when something comes up you’ll have no idea what to do.”

“What are you talking about? Like what? We already know about the bond. It can’t get worse from here.” That’s a silver lining on an otherwise… bleak situation. He’s not going to let Soobin’s addiction to making Beomgyu overthink things take that away from him.

“Well, there’s your heat, for one,” Soobin says casually. Beomgyu nearly drops the orange peel in between his fingers. “And his rut.”

“We’re—I’m not going to have my heat until after this is over,” Beomgyu says, willing his cheeks not to go up in flames. And failing miserably. God, he doesn’t want to discuss his heats with his best friend. What the fuck. Especially when his best friend is an alpha. He doesn’t care about what their group dynamic is or that Soobin is the leader, it’s weird. “Why are you even thinking about my heat? You weirdo.”

Soobin gazes directly at him just so Beomgyu will see him roll his eyes. “Because it’s my job to keep track of this shit,” he says. The knife makes a squelching noise as it touches the cutting board, going straight through the apple. “Since god knows you guys don’t.”

“Because we don’t need to worry about it,” Beomgyu mutters. Thank god for that. He slides onto on of the stools at the kitchen island and continues to pick at the outside of his orange.

“Yeah, you guys don’t need to worry about it because I do. That’s literally what I just said. You guys don’t even know the basics. Did you know you can’t go more than four years without having a heat?” Soobin comments.

“Of course I did,” Beomgyu lies through his teeth. He glances over his shoulder. Hopefully someone will wake up soon and interrupt this conversation. Preferably Yeonjun. The little nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him to go find his mate is getting whinier by the second.

“Of course you did,” Soobin echoes. “Yeah, right. Guess who’s coming up to four years soon?”

Beomgyu’s head whips back towards Soobin to glare at him. “That’s just the recommended timespan. It’s not like it’s illegal to go more than four years—”

“No, but they’ll stop being able to prescribe you suppressants until you have one.” Soobin sighs. “That’s why it’s better to just get it over with once a year or whatever like Taehyun and Huening do.”

Beomgyu pouts. That’s so tedious. Who wants to deal with that shit once or even twice a year? “Whatever, so I might go into heat. Big deal.”

“Yeah, it is a big fucking deal, that’s kind of my point.” Soobin dumps his chopped-up apples into a giant bowl and sets it in front of Beomgyu. “Apples?”

Beomgyu tugs off a piece of his orange and pops it into his mouth as answer. “Alphas always think heats are worse than they actually are.”

“Maybe normally, but in this case, it’ll probably be worse than either of us can imagine,” Soobin says, pulling his bowl towards him once he sees Beomgyu isn’t going to have any.

“A bit overdramatic there, don’t you think?”

Soobin frowns, and when he speaks, his voice has lost all of its exasperation. Now he’s serious. “Not even close. I’ve been telling you for years that delaying your heat for so long is going to make it worse—”

“That’s anecdotal,” Beomgyu brushes him off, though he’s starting to get chilly from the little bit of truth Soobin is dropping. He does know that his next heat—his second one ever—is going to be a bitch to deal with because he put it off for so long, but he figured they could just knock him out for the entire week and he’d wake up after with no recollection of what happened. If they can’t, though… “If it was an issue, they would’ve mentioned it to us at the clinic.”

“Maybe,” Soobin admits. “But also maybe not. It’s not like you guys got the full report in the twenty minutes you spent there. I think telling you guys what was going on was their top priority. Everything else is an afterthought.”

Beomgyu nibbles on his lower lip. “Even if—theoretically—I did have to have my heat, I don’t see why they couldn’t just lock me in a hotel room and leave me there for a week. I mean, yeah, it would suck, but I think I could survive.”

The anxiety welling in his chest isn’t helped by how Soobin’s eyes narrow at him. “Do you know anything about bonding at all?”

“Do you?” Beomgyu shoots back cattily. But honestly, Soobin probably knows more than he does just by virtue of being their leader. He shoves another orange slice into his mouth, wincing when it touches a cut on his lip.

“Cut out the attitude, Beomgyu,” Soobin snaps, and Beomgyu bristles.

“Don’t use your stupid alpha voice on me,” Beomgyu says, setting his orange down so he doesn’t crush it in his fist.

“I’m not,” Soobin insists, except he is using it. Maybe not on purpose, but he is. The prickle at the back of Beomgyu’s neck says as much.

“You actually are.”

Soobin purses his lips at him and they both hold their gazes until Soobin backs down, shoulders hunching forward. “Sorry, I just—I’m worried for you guys, okay? These are things you’re going to have to consider. Like, I’m sorry for being a party pooper, but these are our lives now.”

“I just think you’re overreacting a little,” Beomgyu mumbles.

“I spent all of last night reading up on bonding because I couldn’t sleep.” Soobin snaps an apple slice in half. “And from what I understand—this is the scientific consensus, okay, not something I made up—there’s a real danger of you triggering his cycle and vice-versa if one of you goes into it.”

“Isn’t that—isn’t that just like a thing in movies?” Beomgyu asks, swallowing hard. “I’ve never heard of that happening in real life.”

“Yeah, because normal people don’t go four years without having their cycle, so their hormones aren’t fucking crazy.” Soobin rests his cheek on his palm, elbow propped on the counter. “But the longer you go, the worse it gets. That’s pretty typical for everything related to hormones.”

“I—well…” Beomgyu trails off, unsure of what to say. That is true. He can’t deny that. Their entire bonding experience follows the logic of ‘the longer it goes on for, the worse it gets’. “I’m sure they’ll make up some kind of plan to deal with that.” He pauses, then adds, “If that happens.” He doesn’t want to manifest it.

“There’s no way to deal with it other than to, you know, deal with it,” Soobin says, gesturing vaguely. “Keeping a bonded pair apart is universally considered torture.”

“I doubt he’ll feel tortured. He barely qualifies to be bonded to me in the first place.”

“I think it’s best to assume the worst-case scenario here. And putting him aside, what about you? You can barely stand to not be in the same room as him.”

“I’m fine,” Beomgyu says, voice rising.

“Your lip is bleeding.” Soobin leans over the counter and pokes Beomgyu on the lip with one of his stupidly large fingers. “Because you’ve been biting it out of anxiety.”

Beomgyu backs up, covering his mouth with his hands, flushing. “That doesn’t mean anything, I don’t—”

“Hi,” a voice interrupts, and Beomgyu shoots off the stool so fast he almost trips in his haste to get to Yeonjun’s side again. Yeonjun blinks at him, his inability to open his eyes fully showing he’s not entirely awake yet, and Beomgyu once again recoils when he realises how fucking weird it is for him to jump Yeonjun the moment he walks into the room. “Good morning,” he greets Beomgyu.

Beomgyu awkwardly hovers by his side, not quite touching him but also uncomfortably close. “Hi,” he mumbles.

Yeonjun’s eyes shift from Beomgyu to Soobin then back again. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No, no,” Beomgyu reassures him, at the same time Soobin says, “We were talking about his heat.”

They both glare at each other.

Bitch, Beomgyu mouths at Soobin, who only shrugs.

Yeonjun coughs into his arm, breaking the silence. “Yeah, I was thinking about that too.”

“You were?” Beomgyu says in horror. Yeonjun tilts his head at him and it’d be cute if it wasn’t for the current conversation topic being around how two out of three of the alphas in his group were apparently thinking about him rolling around begging to be bred or whatever the fuck it is alphas think being in heat is like. If Taehyun comes in next and says the same thing, Beomgyu is actually going to snap.

“It’s… kind of hard not to,” Yeonjun says, scratching his cheek. “Sorry. I’m just worried, it’s been so long since you had one and—”

“That’s what I said!” Soobin yells, vindicated.

“You guys do realise though how uncomfortable this is for me, right?” Beomgyu hisses.

A hand brushes through Beomgyu’s hair and then he’s pulled into a side-hug, his head knocking against Yeonjun’s shoulder. He’s instantly assaulted with the smell of rain again. Yeonjun’s scent reminds him of rolling around in the mud after a storm when he was a kid. He swore the smell wasn’t this strong yesterday.

“I know,” Yeonjun assures him. “We know. Soobin?”

“Mhm,” Soobin agrees. There’s a crunch as he bites into an apple slice, and it’s made louder by the fact Beomgyu can’t see him. He jumps a little and Yeonjun soothes him like he’s some sort of scared animal.

Beomgyu wrestles his way out of Yeonjun’s grasp, brushing non-existent dirt off his sides. “We shouldn’t jump to conclusions before we talk to management again.”

Yeonjun’s features soften and he nods. “That’s true. They’ll know more than we do.”

Soobin doesn’t seem pleased at dropping the subject but he also doesn’t seem to have the energy to argue any longer. Not with Yeonjun on Beomgyu’s side. “We have a meeting late afternoon. All five of us. So… I imagine they’ll tell us more then.”

“I thought we were staying in all day?” Yeonjun groans.

“I never said that. I said our schedules got cancelled. Big difference.” Soobin stretches his arms out over his head.

As lazy as Beomgyu is feeling today, the idea of leaving their apartment isn’t a bad one. Fresh air might help relax him. It’s much more difficult to catch Yeonjun’s scent when they’re surrounded by so many other smells.

“Good morning!” Kai shouts, jumping into the kitchen. He instantly goes for Soobin, giving him a big, wet smack on the cheek, much to Soobin’s chagrin. Payback is a bitch, Beomgyu thinks smugly when Soobin’s face twists.

He never really thought about their scents before this whole ordeal, aside from Kai’s since it was an ongoing issue, but he sort of wishes he could smell everyone’s all the time. It would be amusing to be able to tell what they were feeling. Then again, it’s probably for the best they don’t have that power over each other.

“Hey,” Yeonjun greets with a smile. Beomgyu straightens up and gives Kai a little wave.

Once Kai is done harassing Soobin, he turns to them. He’s always so bright in the morning. It hurts Beomgyu’s eyes, like he’s staring directly into the sun or something.

“Good morning you two!” Kai wraps his arms around Beomgyu and squeezes him tightly. Beomgyu whines, trying to push him off because holy shit this kid really doesn’t know his own strength. Kai only hugs him tighter in response.

“You’re going to kill him,” Yeonjun laughs, like it’s funny that Beomgyu is choking. He pats Kai’s arm. “Loosen up a bit.”

“Sorry, hyung,” Kai says, not sounding sorry at all. He releases Beomgyu from his vice grip, but keeps his arms around him, resting his cheek on the top of Beomgyu’s head. That’s better. “You smell different.” He noses at Beomgyu’s hair.

“Who, me?” Beomgyu tilts his head so he can blink at him. “I did sleep in Yeonjun hyung’s room, so…”

“Ah! Right. That makes sense.” Kai breathes in deeply, shutting his eyes with his head on Beomgyu’s. “It’s nice. I would buy a candle with this scent.”

“Um. Thanks?”

“I wish I had your sense of smell,” Yeonjun says with a sigh. He rubs Beomgyu’s lower back and Beomgyu’s heart jumps.

“Trust me, you don’t,” Kai huffs. “But I’m sure you’ll get more attuned to him eventually, since you guys are sleeping together in the same room and all! Oh, and the bonding thing.”

“Gross,” Soobin comments. Beomgyu is inclined to agree.

He wrestles both Kai and Yeonjun off so he can return to eating his orange. His appetite disappeared in the minutes where he stopped eating, but he’s compelled to finish it else it’ll be a waste. And everyone will yell at him.

Yeonjun moves towards the fridge, pausing when he takes note of Beomgyu’s pile of orange peels. “Is that all you’re having for breakfast?”

“I’ll eat more for lunch, this is just a snack,” Beomgyu says, squeezing an orange slice a little too hard. The juice gets all over his fingers. “I just woke up, I can’t eat too much or my face will get swollen.”

“And you’ll look so cute!” Kai squishes Beomgyu’s cheeks and Beomgyu rolls his eyes.

“Alright,” Yeonjun says, uneasy. Beomgyu doesn’t meet his eyes, though he can feel Yeonjun staring at the side of his face. “But you’re eating lunch.”

“That’s fine,” Beomgyu says, honestly. He’s not lying to get out of eating, he really isn’t hungry right now. But he’s sure he will be later. He just needs time for his brain to digest everything going on.

“Hyung, how are you going to grow taller if you don’t eat?” Kai sings.

“I’m already tall enough!” Beomgyu yells, swatting Kai’s arm. “You’re just a giant!”

Kai giggles, jumping backwards. Beomgyu is perfectly fine with his height, thank you very much. He’s already one of the tallest people in the room; the only people ever taller than him are his own members. If he got any taller, the only thing people would talk about is his height, and he doesn’t have Kai’s otherwise striking appearance to distract from it. So yeah, no thank you. He’s fine with not eating breakfast if it means he can stay 180cm forever.

Taehyun arrives shortly after from the gym, a towel slung over his shoulder and his bag in tow. Beomgyu slips away while the rest of them have breakfast, back to his own room. He locks the door behind him and sinks onto the floor.

There’s a tingling sensation running through Beomgyu’s body in waves, a tug in his muscles telling him to return to Yeonjun. God, it’s so annoying. He takes a deep breath and slaps himself to get rid of it, which doesn’t actually help, but it does remind him to focus on the task at hand rather than sit around uselessly like an idiot.

He has a list of things in his mind that he wants to bring to Yeonjun’s room: certain blankets, the plushie he normally sleeps with, some of his notebooks that he’s been writing in so that he doesn’t need to walk back and forth to and from Yeonjun’s room to work. His valuables will stay here, as much as it pains him to go without his favourite picture frames and artwork.

While rummaging through his things, he finds the fucking emergency heat kit their company refreshes every year for him and Kai. He briefly considers throwing himself out the window right then and there when he recalls that everyone has been, apparently, thinking about his heat like it’s as casual a conversation topic as the weather.

Logically, he knows why they’re all thinking about it. It’s not something they can push off forever and the timing isn’t exactly good, with the end of his four years of procrastinating potentially aligning with him being bonded to Yeonjun. But fuck, do they really need to tell him to his face? Beomgyu doesn’t go around telling everybody what he thinks about Soobin’s dick every time he goes into rut. It’s called tact.

He shakes open the kit, dumping it all out onto the floor. As much as he really, really does not want to bring a fucking emergency heat kit into Yeonjun’s room… there’s no harm in being safe. The emergency suppressants and scent pads should be okay. The toys will have to go, though. No amount of healthy fear will convince him to bring a fucking dildo into Yeonjun’s room.

After repackaging everything, toys excluded, he shoves all of the stuff he wants to bring into a little bin. He’s not going more than a few steps from his own room, so it’s not like he can’t come back, but. He has a strong feeling that it’s going to get progressively harder to tear himself away from Yeonjun’s side. Even now, he’s hurrying to get back to him.

The whole thing makes him nauseous, but he shudders and tells himself to suck it up. He can’t do anything about it now other than deal with it. And he refuses to cry over it. He’s not weak. Yesterday was his lowest point; he’s determined to not get any worse than going into hysterics on Yeonjun’s lap.

Yeonjun is sitting on his bed when Beomgyu returns to his room, laptop perched on his thighs.

“What’s that?” Yeonjun questions.

“You’re so nosy,” Beomgyu complains. He sits down on his mattress cross-legged and begins carefully taking his things out of the bin. “It’s just my stuff.”

“Stuff,” Yeonjun echoes, voice unreadable.

Beomgyu squints at him. He can’t tell if Yeonjun is still dwelling on the bond and Beomgyu’s heat and the inevitable issues they believe it’ll cause, or if he’s just being himself. Is their relationship going to revolve around this forever from now on? Will they ever be able to have a normal conversation again? At this rate, it doesn’t seem like it.

Glancing at his pile of items, he squeezes his plushie and shuts his eyes for a moment. He needs to calm down. They have no idea what’s going to happen. For now, Yeonjun isn’t mad at him, which is all he can ask for.

Yeonjun cleared out a quarter of the room for him sometime after he woke up this morning, so Beomgyu is able to neatly rearrange his stuff all into one corner. Unfortunately, it does little to make the room less messy when Yeonjun has his shit thrown everywhere else. At the base of Beomgyu’s mattress is a hoodie and he picks it up delicately, frowning.

“How do you just throw your stuff everywhere like this?” Beomgyu grumbles. He’s almost positive Yeonjun only wore this hoodie a few days ago. He could still wear it again before washing it. It didn’t need to go on the floor.

“Hm?” Yeonjun intones, clearly not paying attention. “What, my clothing?”

“Yes,” Beomgyu says, exasperated, and drops the hoodie. “And everything else. Like why do you have this sitting on your—”

He reaches for an unopened box of Lego sitting nearby and Yeonjun shouts, “Don’t touch that!” Loud enough that Beomgyu physically recoils, eyes wide, hit with a stream of don’t touch it your alpha told you not to touch it don’t touch it don’t—

He whines in pain from the sheer feeling of urgency he’s assaulted with, making a pitiful noise that sounds like anything but himself. His heart rate goes from zero to one hundred in a second flat and his first instinct is to roll over and bare his neck. He slaps his hand over his mouth, forcing himself to stay frozen. It takes so much effort it strains all the muscles in his body.

“S—Sorry,” Yeonjun stammers, standing up. His laptop falls onto his bed. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Beomgyu’s glad he’s already sitting down, else he would’ve definitely fallen over from how blurry his vision gets. Yeonjun crouches down in front of him, hands moving to Beomgyu’s shoulders, and the touch shocks him out of his daze.

“It’s fine,” he says monotonously. He rubs his eyes with his hands. His arms are shaking.

“Are—are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Beomgyu says. His hands flex on his lap and he reaches for Yeonjun’s hoodie without thinking, just to give his fingers something to dig into. “Sorry.”

“Why are you—oh my god, Beomgyu.” Yeonjun grabs him without warning, squishing Beomgyu to his chest. He’s instantly overwhelmed with the awareness of Yeonjun’s arms around him, shielding him, and he shivers. Finally, the tightness in his chest begins to unknot. “Please, please don’t apologise. Please.”

“Okay.” Beomgyu’s voice is muffled by Yeonjun’s sweater. Yeonjun’s hold on him is so tight it hurts, but it somehow makes him feel better. Safer. The slight burn reminds him that Yeonjun didn’t mean to trigger his—whatever the fuck it is. Instincts. His instinct to listen to his mate. How mortifying.

Soobin uses his alpha voice sometimes by accident and it barely makes Beomgyu flinch. Like earlier—it’s irritating, not panic-inducing. This is different. So much for not putting his body into fight or flight mode by overwhelming it. Beomgyu is very much overwhelmed.

It’s not even fight or flight mode, really. It’s more like fucking listen to his alpha or get a migraine mode. Beomgyu isn’t a crybaby, he really isn’t, but this is the closest he’s come to crying in months, including yesterday.

Yeonjun brushes through Beomgyu’s hair with his fingers, his nails dragging up and down his scalp. “I forgot that…” he mumbles, his chin brushing the top of Beomgyu’s head. “You know… We can’t joke around like that anymore. Or. Talk to each other like that. I read about it, but...”

“Yeah,” Beomgyu says softly. He didn’t realise quite how strong the reaction would be either. A nagging feeling, sure, but he’s been dealing with that for two days now and hasn’t gone crazy. The urge he was hit with just now was on another level.

Is this what being bonded is like normally? It fucking sucks. Every book he’s read, every movie he’s seen made it seem much more romantic than what he just got slapped with.

He struggles to breathe properly with Yeonjun’s weight on him, so as much as he doesn’t mind and even possibly enjoys having Yeonjun hug him so close, he’s forced to push him off so he can get some air into his lungs. Yeonjun sits back on his heels, clutching at the mattress.

“It’s fine,” Beomgyu repeats, sitting up straight. He rolls his shoulders back, steadies out his breathing, and then looks at Yeonjun again. “You didn’t mean it. And I didn’t realise how sensitive,” he winces at his own word choice, “I would be. Maybe because it’s worse because it’s one-sided.”

“It’s not one-sided,” Yeonjun says, unsurprisingly, and Beomgyu doesn’t comment anything more. “Fuck, Beomgyu, I’m sorry, I didn’t think about...”

Yeonjun is nearly pouting with how hard he’s sulking and Beomgyu holds back a smile. It should not bring him so much joy to see Yeonjun sulk, but it does. It’s cute in a way. It makes Beomgyu want to baby him even though he’s sure Yeonjun is thinking the same thing about him right now.

“Okay. It’s okay. It’s fine,” Yeonjun says eventually, mostly to himself. “I’ll have to be more careful.”

“Mm,” Beomgyu hums.

He lets Yeonjun fret over him for a moment longer before he shoves him away properly, silently urging him to return to the other side of the room. He doesn’t want Yeonjun to go, but this is supposed to be their little time to relax and the human part of Beomgyu can’t stand to have Yeonjun sit with him without being ridden by guilt. He literally dropped what he was doing for Beomgyu.

Yeonjun sits in front of him for a solid minute before getting on his feet and picking his laptop back up, though he sneaks glances at Beomgyu the whole time.

There’s a soft tapping sound as he continues working, but Beomgyu’s own attempt to go back to sorting through his things is a complete failure. He can barely keep his hands still. So instead of wasting his time in Yeonjun’s room, he makes up some excuse to go to the bathroom before Yeonjun can protest and locks himself in the shower. Better to waste time alone than where he’s a distraction to Yeonjun.

Yeonjun doesn’t follow him, nor does anybody else for that matter, which suits him perfectly fine. Beomgyu does his best to stay focused on the present and nothing else. He purposefully wiping himself down, pretending he’s washing off the itch that won’t leave his spine. He stands under the hot water until his skin goes red and pruney and he’s able to zone out so hard that he momentarily forgets about the rest of the world, right up until Soobin comes yelling for him to hurry up so they can leave for the company.

 

There are three main points of discussion during their in-person meeting with head management:

1. Yeonjun and Beomgyu are idiots who need to be told, repeatedly and harshly, that they are idiots, like they didn’t understand it the first dozen times. Every single sentence is prefaced with “because of these idiots…” and a harsh look towards them, to the point where Soobin starts picking fights with the staff. Beomgyu’s too shaken up from earlier still to defend himself, so he’s grateful for Soobin arguing on their behalf.

2. They cannot, under any circumstances, allow the information about Yeonjun and Beomgyu bonding to get out. Everyone has to sign NDAs, families are threatened, et cetera. Pretty much every staff member they regularly interact with is here. It’s the first time Beomgyu has ever felt genuinely unsafe at their company, like he’s in some sort of mafia movie and not the same building he comes to every other day to chill in.

Their staff—as in their immediate staff like their manager and stylists—all look equally as uncomfortable, and that, combined with the repeated message about how stupid Beomgyu is, just makes him want to disappear forever.

3. If they feel any changes, however minuscule, they need to report it. Beomgyu sits in his plastic chair and wonders what constitutes as a ‘change’—a change compared to what? Their relationship before? How they were yesterday? This morning? He doesn’t mention that Yeonjun yelling at him made him want to roll over like some primitive creature lacking free will, and neither does Yeonjun.

They also don’t talk about Beomgyu’s heat, or Yeonjun’s rut, or anything about their cycles at all. Not even when they’re going to start the treatment to break the bond. Their manager assures them that those things will come soon and their company only needs a few more days to confirm with various labs and doctors what their plan of action should be, but he doesn’t seem very convinced and neither is Beomgyu.

None of the other members seem pleased with anything being said either. Kai sits on the seat beside Beomgyu not occupied by Yeonjun and he pats Beomgyu’s thigh the entire time like he’s trying to comfort him when in reality Beomgyu is positive he’s doing it for his own comfort. Not that Beomgyu minds, if it helps Kai feel any better. He doesn’t need to be able to read minds to know that Kai must be nervous inside, though it doesn’t show on his face.

It also makes Beomgyu feel slightly more sane to hold onto another omega’s hand, rather than the alpha he accidentally bonded with. So there’s that.

Still, he can’t ignore how Yeonjun vibrates with nervous energy on his other side, especially when he can’t keep his expression under control while they’re berated over and over. Soobin leans over and whispers something to him that makes him look even more discontented and Beomgyu stiffly pats Yeonjun’s upper back.

The smile Yeonjun gives him in response is tight, not reaching his eyes. Anxiety wells in Beomgyu’s throat until he takes a long drink of water to swallow it down. He can’t tell anymore if Yeonjun’s emotions are affecting him so much because they’re friends or if it’s some sort of side effect from the bond.

Beomgyu somehow feels less prepared to deal with any of this by the time the meeting is adjourned. The company staff throw them dirty looks as they leave and then their staff throw them pitying ones. He’s glad they have some people on their side, even if they don’t deserve it—it’s not like they caused trouble on purpose.

One of their head stylists gives Beomgyu a pamphlet with some omega help hotline to call if he’s ever feeling unsafe. He forces a smile and a thank you and then tosses it into the garbage can once she leaves. He doesn’t want Yeonjun to see it and feel worse about himself.

Taehyun, Soobin, and their manager instantly go to the kitchen when they get back to their dorm, while Yeonjun hurriedly says he’s going to shower and sprints out of the room before Beomgyu can say anything. He doesn’t head for the bathroom first, just goes straight to his room, and Beomgyu grimaces.

That’s fine. Yeonjun needs alone time too. He’s not going to be annoying and follow him when he can hold it back. He’s not. He can survive being apart for him for a while. He did it this morning. (Though he suspects that’s only because Yeonjun was asleep and in no danger of actually leaving him.) Beomgyu scratches his arm and considers going to the gym downstairs to prove to himself he can consciously spend time apart from Yeonjun without caving and running back after five seconds, but then he sees Kai flop on the couch by himself and reconsiders.

“Hey.” Beomgyu sits down beside him, knees to his chest. Kai moves to lean against him but hesitates. “It’s okay, you can lean on me.”

“I shouldn’t,” Kai says with a sigh. “I don’t want to cause any problems.”

“You aren’t going to cause any problems, idiot,” Beomgyu says. “We’re both omegas.”

“Still,” Kai mumbles, biting his lip. Beomgyu’s heart breaks, seeing him so torn up.

“You’re not going to end up in the same situation as me and Yeonjun hyung are,” Beomgyu reassures him. He pulls Kai in by looping one arm around his neck. “Unless you’re falling asleep every night with one of the alphas, you’re fine.”

Kai giggles, “Not every night.”

“Good.” Beomgyu messes up Kai’s hair. “You… might want to tone down cuddling with them so much, just in case, but you can always do it with me instead.”

“You don’t even like cuddling,” Kai whines.

Beomgyu snorts. “I think I can make an exception for you.” He doesn’t mind cuddling, he just doesn’t like it when other people initiate. But he can’t abandon Kai to suppress his instincts when he could easily help him.

“I just don’t want things to change.” Kai tucks his face against Beomgyu’s shoulder and Beomgyu pats the top of his head like he’s a puppy. He is a puppy, practically. “I don’t want you and Yeonjun hyung to get awkward. I don’t want things to get awkward between any of us.”

“We won’t,” Beomgyu promises, and then in his head apologises for lying. They definitely will, but he can’t let Kai spiral by worrying over them. “It’s inconvenient, yeah, but it’s not the end of the world.”

“I guess. But I’m happy with what we have. I don’t want it to change.”

“It might change for a while, but I’m sure we’ll be stronger by the end of it.” Beomgyu pokes Kai’s cheek until he moves away, giggling. The squeaky sound of his laughter makes Beomgyu smile as well.

Kai rubs his cheek. He grabs a pillow and sets it on his lap, leaning against the arm of the couch opposite to Beomgyu. “What does it feel like?”

“What, the bond?”

“Is it like… can you feel his emotions?”

Beomgyu bursts into laughter. “I don’t think that’s a real thing.”

“It is! My parents can do it!”

“I bet they’re just super in tune to each other’s scents. Feeling emotions is some kind of X-Men shit,” Beomgyu says. He may not know much about bonding, but that is one thing he knows for sure. Kai hums thoughtfully. “Anyways, that’s only something that happens after… what, years? Of being bonded.”

“… So is that a no?”

“Yes, it’s a no, silly. It’s more like…” Beomgyu purses his lips, mulling over his words. “There’s this voice in my head reminding me that he’s not here. Like when you have an itch you can’t reach. But it’s not unbearable.” At least not right now.

“That sounds terrible, what the fuck?”

Beomgyu throws his head back and shuts his eyes, smiling wryly. It is terrible. “Don’t swear.” He debates on telling Kai about what happened earlier when Yeonjun accidentally raised his voice at him—but he doubts Kai would understand, and he doesn’t want to worry him unnecessarily.

“You literally swear all the time!”

Beomgyu kicks Kai in the stomach and Kai jumps off the couch, giggling. “Yeah, but if Soobin hyung hears you swearing around me, he’s going to go off about how I’m corrupting you and—”

“You two,” their manager calls. Beomgyu shoots off the couch, peering over the back to see their manager pulling on his jacket. “I’m leaving now. I’ll be back tomorrow morning. Call me if anything happens.”

“Okay,” Beomgyu says. He didn’t think he would leave so soon. Usually their manager stays for dinner if he’s at the dorms while they’re cooking. “Bye-bye.”

“See you, hyung.” Kai waves.

After their manager is gone, Soobin putters into the living room and takes a seat on the other couch. He’s holding a bag of popcorn and Kai dives for him. Soobin swiftly dodges.

“He’s really mad right now,” Soobin explains.

“What? At us?” Beomgyu asks, alarmed. “I know he’s annoyed, but…” Mad is a strong word. Having their head management hate them is bad enough; if their own manager is that pissed off, Beomgyu isn’t sure how he’ll be able to deal.

“No, at them. Well, a little bit at us too, but mostly at his manager,” Soobin says. He drops a single kernel of popcorn into Kai’s hand and Kai gobbles it up. “Because they’re blaming him for not keeping you guys in check.”

“That’s… not fair.” Beomgyu tugs the sleeves of his sweater down.

“They need to take it out on someone. And they can’t exactly punish us, since we still need to work.” Another piece of popcorn for Kai. Beomgyu feels like he’s watching the nature channel. “He just asked that we follow what they ask from us so that it doesn’t get worse for him. And I agree.”

“Of course I agree too,” Beomgyu says hastily. “I wasn’t intending to disobey anything they want us to do.” But they also haven’t said, officially, what they want them to do, so. It’s hard to disobey a bunch of rules that haven’t been put in place yet. “But I also don’t know what they want us to do.”

“I don’t think there’s going to be some list of don’t do this or make sure you do thats. The biggest issue is going to be making sure you guys don’t go insane while keeping everything a secret. Like… we need to be discrete.”

“What does ‘not going insane’ entail?” Taehyun questions. Soobin glances over at him as he enters the room, and Kai manages to swipe the popcorn from him while he’s distracted.

“Hey!” Soobin yells, and Beomgyu tunes out his and Kai’s squabbling in favour of answering Taehyun’s question.

“I don’t know either. I guess… staying together?” Beomgyu chews on his lower lip. “That’s what they kept warning us about. That we have to stick together.” Honestly, Taehyun likely knows more about this than Beomgyu does.

“That shouldn’t be that hard. I don’t think you following him around is going to alarm anybody.” Taehyun sits down beside Beomgyu, kicking his legs onto the table in front of the couch.

“I guess…” Beomgyu says, looking towards the hallway that Yeonjun disappeared down. They’re going to need to learn how to control his reaction to Yeonjun ordering him around as well, else one day they’re going to be joking around on camera and Beomgyu is going to freeze up.

Is Yeonjun actually showering or did he just need an excuse to leave them like Beomgyu did last night? He better be come back soon.

Once Taehyun settles in, Beomgyu inches away from him. It doesn’t feel right to sit so close to another alpha, as horrible as that sounds. The rational side of him knows Taehyun is his friend and most definitely doesn’t give a fuck what Beomgyu is or isn’t, but it’s easier to breathe when he’s away from him. Beomgyu plays with his sweater, drawing the collar up over the lower half of his face so nobody can see his expression.

Taehyun glances at him but doesn’t say anything, for which Beomgyu sends him a pathetic look that he hopes conveys his thanks. He doesn’t want to have to explain how antsy he is in front of Kai. It’ll only cause more unnecessary commotion.

Instead, he turns on the TV while Beomgyu pulls out his phone. He half-expects his notifications to be blown up by people asking how he is, until he recalls that nobody but their staff and families know what’s happening.

And Beomgyu can’t tell them, which means he has to act like everything is normal, which seems like it’s more trouble than it’s worth right now. He opts to ignore all of his group chats and flick through their fan posts instead to remind himself that he does, in fact, have a career and life other than being a mess.

He used to not take note of posts about their group dynamics because of them are either totally wrong or completely irrelevant. Now it feels like every single one is a personal attack. Every post that talks about how he’s sensitive because he’s an omega causes another vein to throb in his brain. He’s going to have an aneurysm at this rate.

They don’t mean any harm in it. If anything, they’re saying these things out of affection. That doesn’t make Beomgyu any less irritated by the psychoanalysis of his personality. Especially his faults.

Yeonjun wanders into the living room some time soon after and Beomgyu tugs him into the space between him and Taehyun before he can go to his usual spot. The rest of the members are polite enough to turn a blind eye and chat normally, and Beomgyu is able to rest his head on Yeonjun’s shoulder without feeling like he has a billboard over his head saying judge me for being clingy and weird!

“Hi,” Yeonjun whispers, quiet enough that not even Taehyun beside them can hear. “Are you okay?”

“Are you okay?” Beomgyu returns.

“Mm. Just thinking.”

“That’s never good.”

“Oh, shut up,” Yeonjun says, but Beomgyu can hear the smile in his voice. Taehyun puts on one of his and Yeonjun’s favourite shows, which thankfully distracts him, and Beomgyu doesn’t have to worry about Yeonjun stewing in guilt over what happened earlier. And in general. He’ll tell him to ask Soobin for help later. Despite their argument over breakfast, he’s usually good about controlling that sort of thing.

Soobin and Kai continue to bicker while Yeonjun and Taehyun watch TV, but Beomgyu isn’t in the mood for socialising, so he stays quiet and returns to his phone.

At least finally, with Yeonjun beside him, the buzz in his brains calms down enough for him to curl up into a warm ball and he’s able to reply to some comments. He even asks their manager if it’s alright for him to post a selfie of him and Yeonjun, and once he gets the okay, he does.

Maybe they’ll be fine. As long as they can keep doing their work, it’s fine. Everything else is an afterthought.

Notes:

happy birthday gyu this is my offering for your bday: anxiety!!

sorry for taking so long to update etc etc these chapters are much longer than i thought they would be (in a good way hopefully...? they are settling around 8k) thank you for reading as usual!! let me know what you think... <3

Chapter 5: Yeonjun

Notes:

tiny tw for descriptions of needles/shots in this chapter

Yeonjun can’t tell if his inability to stay still is because of the bond, or if it’s just him freaking out.

“Hyung, stop,” Soobin grumbles, patting Yeonjun’s bouncing knee. He stops shaking it for one second before restlessness overtakes him again and he gives in to the urge.

It’s been eleven minutes since Beomgyu was called into the doctor’s office, and every minute has felt increasingly more like torture. He’s not experiencing some kind of incessant pull to chase him around or anything, he’s just worried. Beomgyu offered to go in before Yeonjun could volunteer, meaning Yeonjun isn’t entirely sure what they’re doing to him in there, and if they hurt him or something, then…

Calm the fuck down, he tells himself. They’re at a clinic, nobody is going to get hurt. He buries his face in one hand, running his fingers through the sweat clinging to the roots of his hair.

They’re waiting to receive their medication, at a different clinic than the one they were at the other day. And since Beomgyu and Yeonjun are trying to break their bond, Yeonjun isn’t allowed in the appointment with him. A rule which makes sense for most cases considering most people breaking bonds are exes who aren’t on good terms, but it’s not like he and Beomgyu are a former couple. They’re friends, they should be allowed to stick together.

The worst part, though, is knowing that Beomgyu is likely feeling the separation anxiety tenfold on the other side of the wall and Yeonjun can’t do anything about it but wait for him to come back out. That’s what’s bothering him, really.

The past two days have been the longest of his life, with every minute feeling more like ten years; he’s going to end up shaving fifty years off his lifespan over the course of this week. And they have, at most, six months of this left. It’s a terrifying thought.

All he can do is hope it’ll get easier over time and not harder, but judging by all the information they’ve been given so far, that won’t be the case.

“Hyung,” Soobin snaps. “Stop.”

Yeonjun groans, glancing towards the door to the doctor’s office for the twentieth time in the past minute. The blinds on the windows are shut and he can’t see any shadows shifting underneath the doorway. How long does it take to administer some medication? It’s just a needle. Most shots take one minute at most.

“I thought you said it wasn’t affecting you that much,” Soobin says gruffly.

“It’s not,” Yeonjun says.

“You look like you’re about to break into the room.”

Yeonjun takes a deep breath and tears his gaze away, tilting his head toward Soobin instead. See, it’s not affecting him. If it was affecting him that bad, would he be able to look away from the door? Probably not.

In the past two days, he hasn’t been apart from Beomgyu for longer than a few minutes, other than to go to the bathroom and shower. It’s been like having a little puppy trailing him around, except the puppy was never trained to be independent. So it’s not the bond giving him separation anxiety so much as the fact he’s just gotten used to having Beomgyu clinging to him. It feels wrong for Beomgyu not to be by his side.

Being forced to stick together hasn’t actually been too bad. They haven’t had much to do and they’ve mostly been spending their time lounging around in silence. He’d rather have Beomgyu clinging to him somewhat awkwardly than not be near him at all. At least this way, he can reassure himself that their friendship is still in tact.

His phone lights up with a notification from Taehyun in their group chat, and he catches sight of the time. It’s been sixteen minutes. Sixteen minutes? What the fuck are they doing in there?

He looks back at the door and Soobin sighs.

A part of him feels guilty because Soobin is here for moral support, not to be Yeonjun’s separation anxiety therapist, but to be fair, he did offer to tag along. So he brought this upon himself, in a way.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Soobin keeps pressing.

“I’m fine.” He’ll be fine when Beomgyu comes out and Yeonjun knows he’s safe. “I just don’t understand what’s taking so long.”

As if on cue, the door opens, and Yeonjun stands up so fast he nearly trips over his own feet. Beomgyu seems dazed and a little lost until he sees Soobin and Yeonjun sitting by the window, and then he smiles wearily.

“Yeonjun-ssi next,” the doctor calls. “Quickly please. We have another appointment right after you guys.”

If Yeonjun wasn’t a famous idol with a reputation to upkeep, he would have snapped at the doctor right there. But he is, so he just pats Beomgyu’s shoulder as he walks by and hopes that does enough to tide him over until Yeonjun is finished.

And for all of how annoying Soobin was the sixteen minutes Yeonjun was alone with him, he trusts that Soobin will know how to keep Beomgyu comfortable. So as long as they get this over with quickly, it’ll be fine.

“Yeonjun-ssi.” The doctor sighs, shutting the door behind them and locking it. Yeonjun’s ears perk up at the sharp click. “Please calm down.”

“What?” Yeonjun asks, baffled. He’s just standing there.

The doctor shoots him an unimpressed look and wanders over to a pristine white cart filled with unused syringes and vials of medication. “I understand this situation must be stressful, but I recommend not trying to intimidate your own doctor,” he says, waving to Yeonjun’s tense shoulders. “I promise everything we’re giving you two today will help.”

He didn’t notice what kind of aura he was giving off. He forces his muscles to relax, exhaling slowly until all the tenseness leaves his body.

“I’m sorry,” Yeonjun says.

The doctor hums, gesturing for Yeonjun to stand near the chair sitting directly beside the cart.

“You’ll need to learn to control your instincts, because it’s going to get worse before it gets better,” the doctor says.

“It’s not my…” Yeonjun rubs his eyes with the heel of his palms. It’s not like he’s about to go feral alpha mode or something. “I’m worried because he’s my friend. That’s all.”

“Whatever the reason is, you can’t posture against every other alpha you meet.” The doctor pulls out a clean syringe from a plastic bag. “You’ll have to take off your pants. It’s easiest to inject into the thigh.”

Yeonjun undoes his belt and kicks his pants onto the ground. Did the doctor guide Beomgyu on how to inject it too?

Of course he did. It’s his job. But isn’t that a bit inappropriate? The doctor is an alpha and Beomgyu is an attractive omega. Shouldn’t they have gotten another doctor for him? Yeonjun doesn’t care about undressing in front of another alpha, but for Beomgyu—

“Yeonjun-ssi.” The doctor claps his hands in front of Yeonjun’s face, startling him. “Calm down,” he says, sternly, and Yeonjun flushes so deeply he can feel steam coming out of his ears. “Do you need some water first to clear your head?”

Yeonjun nods, lips pressed tightly together. He can’t open his mouth or he might say something he’ll regret. He knows he’s acting insane, but it’s so hard not to get caught up in the rapid-fire of negative signals his brain is giving him.

The doctor hands him a cup of water and he drinks the entire thing in one gulp, waiting for the coolness to settle in his throat before he attempts to speak. “I’m sorry,” he says again. He crumples the plastic cup in his hand. “I’m not used to… this.”

“Most people aren’t,” the doctor says, sounding amused. “Especially somebody of your age. Beomgyu-ssi was also difficult. It’s very normal, but that doesn’t mean you should give in to the urge to freak out. You have to learn to resist it.”

Maybe it is his instincts. He’s never felt like this before, ever. Not even when he was newly-presented and off suppressants, everything strikingly new and overwhelming.

But he doesn’t want to believe he only cares about Beomgyu because of the stupid bond. It just sounds so silly. He doesn’t. He cares about Beomgyu a lot. He’s only more aware of the different ways he can care about him now because of the fact they’re bonded.

Fuck, his head hurts. He’s going to drink another three bottles of water the moment they get out of the clinic.

“Just take a deep breath and we can get this over with, okay? Set your leg on the chair, so you can easily reach your thigh, and then take the syringe. I’ll instruct you.”

Injecting the needle isn’t too difficult. He’s glad he’s not afraid of them, so it only takes a few seconds to press it into his skin. It stings sinking in, but after the initial bite, it doesn’t feel like much of anything. He doesn’t think he’ll have much trouble doing it on his own.

After he’s finished, he gets dressed again and the doctor packages up the dosage they’ll use for the next month. “You’ll have to come back next month to get more. We’ll be running new tests every four weeks, so you’ll have to return either way.” He passes Yeonjun a paper bag full of clean syringes and a box of the medication. “Make sure you follow the dosage exactly. If you miss a day, you might have to end up starting all over.”

“Right.” Yeonjun holds the bag underneath his arm. He’s feeling slightly woozy as the medication settles into his bloodstream. “Does Beomgyu… Do we use the same type of medication, or is it different?”

The doctor raises a brow at him. “They didn’t tell you?”

Yeonjun wants to laugh at the thought of them having any knowledge of their own healthcare plan. This is a public clinic though, so it makes sense they don’t deal with many idols. He shakes his head.

“It’s slightly different. It’s not interchangeable, if that’s what you’re asking,” the doctor explains. “If you have any difficulties, you should call in, either to us or the hospital.”

The doctor sends him off quickly after that since, as he said, there’s a handful of other patients waiting in line as well. Yeonjun steps out of the office to find Soobin, Beomgyu, and their head manager lingering by the entryway. When Beomgyu spots him, he immediately perks up.

Their manager hands him a bottle of water before Yeonjun can say anything, bless his soul.

“Everything settled?” he asks.

“Mm,” Yeonjun hums. “I don’t think I’ll have any issues. I got it on the first try.”

Beomgyu makes a noise of agreement and reaches for Yeonjun’s sleeve after he tosses the empty water bottle out. “Can we get food? I’m starving.”

Their manager scoffs and laughs at the same time, but he must feel bad for them, because he concedes, “I guess. Text Taehyun and Huening and ask what they want. We’ll pick it up on the way back.”

Beomgyu cheers. The fact he’s not sulking anymore fills Yeonjun with relief. Things aren’t that bad. He’s overreacting. If he’s conscious about not giving into his stupid instincts and takes his medication diligently, in a few months it’ll be over. As an idol, a few months isn’t that long. Last year passed in the blink of an eye. When he puts it like that, it’s not that scary. All he has to do is make sure Beomgyu does the same and they’ll be fine.

 

Predictably, his optimism doesn’t last even twenty four hours before being shattered by reality.

Breakfast the next morning goes better than the previous days. Yeonjun manages to get Beomgyu to eat something substantial, which is a step up from the fruit he’s been nibbling on all week. The rest of the members somehow manage to hold a half-decent conversation as a group not revolving around the current bonding issue.

Every time somebody knocks into him or Beomgyu, he nearly snaps at them, and he has to shovel food into his mouth to stop himself from saying anything stupid. He just wants to wrap Beomgyu in a blanket and tell them all to leave him alone. Can’t they see he needs space? Not because he’s an omega but because he’s… well, he’s emotionally delicate. That’s just how Beomgyu is.

He ends up eating way more than normal that day and talking far, far less.

Soobin requests Beomgyu do the dishes with him, and reluctantly, Yeonjun moves to the living room to give them privacy. Kai tries to distract him by snuggling up to his side, but he still has to repeat over and over in his head that Beomgyu’s less than ten steps away for him to not feel nauseous. It takes a lot of effort.

Eventually Beomgyu returns to him, settling on Yeonjun’s other side, and Yeonjun listens to them chat while he practises deep breathing exercises he found online.

The real test, however, is their first schedule as an illicit, freshly-bonded pair. There’s only so many schedules they can cancel, and this is one their management couldn’t get them out of. Thankfully, it’s just some YouTube series; nothing big. There’s not many staff, a little less than a dozen or so including their own. It’s the little wins he needs to focus on, because he’s positive Beomgyu wouldn’t be able to deal with more people.

He’s been stuck to Yeonjun’s side like glue since the moment they left the dorm, clinging to his arm like someone will steal him away if he lets go. Which in itself isn’t surprising in the slightest, but he won’t stop chewing on his lower lip and Yeonjun keeps having to slap his shoulder to get him to stop.

“You’re going to get yelled at,” Yeonjun nags, as gently as possible. He tries to do his part in helping Beomgyu relax by scratching over his scalp, but it doesn’t seem to do much in helping him. Beomgyu frowns, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. At least he doesn’t seem upset, only agitated. That’s an improvement from how he’s been all week. Yeonjun can handle Beomgyu’s frustration as long as it doesn’t get to the level where Yeonjun begins absorbing all his negative emotion by association.

“I can’t help it,” Beomgyu mumbles, which has become his most commonly used phrase over the past few days. “It’s the urge to…”

Yeonjun tilts his head at him. “The urge to…?” he prompts.

When Beomgyu’s lips thin and his cheeks go bright red, Yeonjun realises he must’ve said the wrong thing. “Never mind,” he says quickly, and Yeonjun doesn’t prod any further on what he meant, since he stops biting his lip after that.

In the dorms, Beomgyu’s scent has gotten so strong that the others said they can pick it up faintly when walking by Yeonjun’s room, which in the five years they’ve been living together, nobody has ever been able to do before this. Not even Kai.

Just to be safe, since it’s difficult for them to gauge how intense Beomgyu’s scent is to those who aren’t accustomed to being around him, Beomgyu’s wearing little scent-masking patches on the base of his neck and wrists. His massive oversized sweater and its long sleeves cover them up, but he asks Yeonjun to check on them every ten minutes to ensure they haven’t started peeling off.

Yeonjun’s one hundred percent positive he would be able to tell if they were, since he’s sure he would notice before anybody else did, but he obliges Beomgyu’s request every time and subtly pulls back the collar of his sweater to check.

At least the sweater makes him look cute. Like a big, fluffy, cream-coloured bear. It reminds him of the clothes Beomgyu wore when they first debuted, when he wasn’t confident enough to show any skin. Yeonjun would squish and pinch his cheeks if he weren’t in such a bad mood.

“Hey.” Beomgyu jumps when Taehyun wanders over, and he inches closer to Yeonjun, reaching to grasp the side of his shirt. Taehyun, the saint, feigns obliviousness; he doesn’t even bat an eyelash at Beomgyu’s skittish animal behaviour. “Soobin hyung wanted me to tell you guys to be ready in ten.”

“Soobin hyung couldn’t come over to tell us that himself?” Beomgyu huffs. He squares his shoulders, standing up properly.

Taehyun blinks, then glances over his shoulder to where Soobin is leaning against the wall, thumb scrolling unhurriedly down his phone screen.

“If you guys have beef right now, take it up with him,” Taehyun says simply. “He asked, I obeyed. That’s all.”

Once he’s gone, Yeonjun turns to Beomgyu and frowns. “What happened?”

He didn’t get the opportunity to speak to Soobin yesterday after they returned from the clinic because he ended up passing out almost immediately, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary between him and Beomgyu then or this morning. He knows that Beomgyu’s been irritated with Soobin for prying into their lives, but he didn’t realise it was enough for them to not be speaking at all.

It’s not easy to pick up on when Beomgyu and Soobin are arguing for real versus when they’re just bickering for the sake of it. Generally, Yeonjun automatically assumes the latter; Beomgyu isn’t the type to hold grudges or get into serious arguments. But he has no reason to be so hostile about Soobin not coming over unless they fought for real.

Yeonjun doesn’t like to intrude on the other members’ issues, but if they’re arguing over him or the bond, he thinks he has the right to know. That, or if it’s about Beomgyu’s heat, like they spoke about the other day.

Beomgyu crosses his arms, and the way his face twists in discontent tells Yeonjun that he was right and it does have something to do with him, to some extent. “He’s just being a dick,” he says dryly, glancing towards the dick in question, who seems far less bothered than Beomgyu does.

“About…?” Yeonjun prompts.

“Everything!” Beomgyu says, raising his voice into a whisper-yell. The stomp of his foot catches Soobin’s attention, and Yeonjun attempts to smile reassuringly at him from over the top of Beomgyu’s head. “He’s an overbearing asshole.”

Yeonjun sighs. “You know he’s only worried about you.”

“Yeah, well. He could be a little more tactful about it,” Beomgyu says. Yeonjun withholds a laugh. Beomgyu is rarely ever tactful around Soobin, so it’s really not that unusual that Soobin wouldn’t offer the same. “It’s… gross,” he grumbles.

“What, him worrying over you? Did you tell him about what happened with—when I accidentally ordered you around?”

“I didn’t tell him about that, but.” Beomgyu crosses his arms. “He’s just acting weird.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Yeonjun says. He rubs Beomgyu’s shoulder in an attempt to calm his irritation, and he sees the exact moment it begins working, Beomgyu’s brows unknitting. “Because you’re not used to him worrying about you, or…?”

“He only cares about all this stuff now that we’re bonded. Like—“ He bites his lip again and Yeonjun considers interrupting him to tell him to stop, but he wants to hear the rest of Beomgyu’s sentence. “Just because we’re bonded doesn’t mean I’m some sort of helpless child that’s been taken advantage of. I don’t need him to watch over me like a hawk. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and tracking my medicine, and fighting you off if I have to—“

Yeonjun chokes. “What? Fighting me off of who? You?” Does Soobin think Yeonjun is going to attack Beomgyu?

“He thinks you’re going to snap and jump me,” Beomgyu deadpans. “He’s so focused on our cycles and hormones and whatever—he thinks if I go into heat, you’re not going to be able to control yourself and we’re going to fuck.”

“What?” Yeonjun’s palms get all sweaty. He wipes them on his pants. What the fuck? “That’s not going to happen. What?” It’s not like Yeonjun has no self-control. If anything, he has the most out of everybody in the entire group.

He understands being worried over Beomgyu’s cycle—he was thinking about it the other day as well because Soobin mentioned it over breakfast, but he never considered the idea that he and Beomgyu would have to engage in something like that. There are tons of ways he could help Beomgyu if he went into heat that don’t involve sex. And it’s not as if Yeonjun has to be there for Beomgyu’s heat, even as his mate. Nobody is completely helpless during their cycle; Beomgyu won’t die from lack of human contact if he’s alone. It might be difficult, sure, but he’s positive Beomgyu can handle it by himself.

“I know,” Beomgyu insists. “And that’s what I told him, but he won’t listen.”

Stunned into silence, Yeonjun isn’t sure what to say other than, “I see.”

Something unpleasant stirs in his gut. Anger, maybe? Betrayal? Does Soobin seriously think Yeonjun is lacking that much in self-control? Maybe it’s a bit of projection. If any of them are likely to take note of Beomgyu’s unfiltered scent, it’s Soobin, since they were roommates for so long. And Soobin is their pack alpha—who knows what kind of weird shit goes on in his brain chemistry because of that. Maybe he’s the one having issues controlling himself.

His hands curl into fists at his sides. Deep breaths. He’s not about to go and yell at Soobin while they’re in the midst of filming something. There’s only a few hours of filming left and then they’re free.

“I’m sorry,” Beomgyu says, deflating. He curls his arms around his middle. “I’m trying to get him to stop.”

“No,” Yeonjun says, squaring his shoulders back. “It’s not your fault.”

He throws his arm around Beomgyu’s back in a way he hopes looks casual to everybody else, and then draws him closer. Beomgyu’s head falls on his shoulder and all the tension leaves his body at once.

It feels like cheating to have that much power over Beomgyu, but it’s nice to know he has a built-in relaxation button if need be. He can’t tell if Beomgyu’s body is reacting to his scent—that not even Yeonjun himself can smell—or purely to their proximity, but it doesn’t matter so long as it works.

“And everybody is annoyed at us. I just hope things blow over soon,” Beomgyu murmurs.

“They will,” Yeonjun promises, hoping his voice comes out sturdier than his thoughts are. “It’s because it’s all new to us. We’re all… once we get used to it, it’ll be fine.”

“Is it possible to get used to something like this?”

Good question. Realistically, no, but he would like to believe they can learn to live with it better than they are right now. “It’s only temporary,” he says eventually, not wanting to outright lie, “so we only need to deal with it for a few months and then we’re free.”

“Mm.” Beomgyu’s eyes close. “I really hope it’s not six months. I think I’ll go insane before then.”

That, Yeonjun can agree with.

His eyes shift off of Beomgyu’s sleepy face to Soobin chatting with Taehyun on the other side of the room, talking animatedly with his hands, a bright grin on his face. The whole image pisses Yeonjun off. How can Soobin be standing over there happy while Beomgyu is miserable and guilt-ridden?

Soobin laughs and Yeonjun physically forces himself to reel in his anger. He has no idea what Soobin did or didn’t say, and he also has no idea of whether or not Beomgyu is a trustworthy source of information. If Soobin was that worried or thought Yeonjun was going to hurt him somehow, he would approach Yeonjun about it. Soobin isn’t exactly the type to hold things back.

Don’t jump to conclusions, he tells himself. It’s only logical.

But the way Beomgyu stares forlornly at Soobin from across the room the entire time they stand on set kills Yeonjun a little inside, and he promises that on Beomgyu’s behalf—as his friend, not his alpha—he’ll ease his worries. Considering Yeonjun’s hand in this situation, it’s only fair. He’s not about to let Soobin make Beomgyu uncomfortable using Yeonjun as his ammo, no matter what Soobin’s intentions may be.

 

Against all odds, they manage to film the variety show and the subsequent performance with little issues, unless you count Beomgyu radiating misery as an issue. Yeonjun keeps a close eye on him the entire time and diligently allows Beomgyu to intrude on his personal space when required, but he tries not to pry too much knowing Beomgyu is already feeling pressured enough by one alpha.

He’s never put much thought into how any of their dynamics affect their relationships, because—as far as he knew, they didn’t. Not on a day-to-day basis, certainly.

But now that he thinks about it, he can see the little ways in which Beomgyu and Soobin’s interactions reflect their status. Same with Soobin and Kai, or Taehyun and Beomgyu, or Soobin and Taehyun, or… whoever. Little things that he never considered had to do with biology but actually do.

For example, the way Soobin dishes out orders and critique during practices to Beomgyu is vastly different from how he does the same to Yeonjun. No matter how irritated Soobin might get, he rarely ever raises his voice at Beomgyu. Which is ironic, because normally those two have no issues yelling at each other when they’re fighting over games or food.

On the other hand, when Taehyun and Soobin fight, it’s always loud enough to hurt his ears after; a far cry from how lowkey their normal casual conversations are. And Soobin and Yeonjun have definitely gotten into shouting matches before.

Before this, he thought the reason why Soobin is so polite with Beomgyu is because Beomgyu isn’t too stubborn when it comes to critique and rarely ever protests. And while that’s technically true, he’s realising it’s not the main reason Soobin is so careful in his tone when tensions get high. Rather, it’s because of how easy it is for alphas to tap into omegas’ survival instincts and force them into submission; especially alphas they respect, and Yeonjun is well aware that Beomgyu respects both him and Soobin greatly.

The reaction Beomgyu had to Yeonjun snapping at him the other day was extreme though—he can’t remember ever seeing Beomgyu that shaken up, and it has Yeonjun ill just remembering it. He thought suppressants were supposed to suppress instincts like that. That’s why they’re called suppressants.

He wants to ask Soobin if that’s normal, if it’s ever happened to him before, but considering Soobin may have a low opinion of him right now, he doubts revealing his mistake would win him any points towards Soobin’s good graces.

Asking Taehyun or Kai is out of the question because he has no idea how much they know about what’s going on, aside from the general concept, and he doesn’t want to embarrass Beomgyu by revealing unnecessary information simply to satiate Yeonjun’s own curiosity and worries.

Yeonjun doesn’t mind dealing with Beomgyu’s issues for him, because only god knows if Beomgyu would do anything about them if left alone. The issue is deciphering what exactly Beomgyu’s problems are, and how much of it is normal between an alpha and an omega and how much is because of their stupid bond.

He waits until Beomgyu’s in the midst of one of his impromptu evening exhaustion naps to knock on Soobin’s door. If he tried it while Beomgyu was awake, he would a) dissuade Yeonjun from talking to Soobin, and b) follow Yeonjun everywhere to calm his side of the bond, therefore giving Yeonjun zero privacy.

His fist doesn’t even hit Soobin’s door properly before it swings open to reveal the other alpha red-faced and sleepy-eyed. He must’ve just woken up.

“Oh,” Soobin says, taking Yeonjun in. His eyes slide over Yeonjun’s shoulder, likely searching for Beomgyu, and then back to Yeonjun in questioning when he spots nobody.

“It’s just me,” Yeonjun confirms. “He’s asleep. Can I come in?”

Soobin doesn’t seem too pleased about being woken up, but he nods and gestures for Yeonjun to enter. Soobin’s room is the most visited in the dorm because of the free entertainment of his pet hedgehog, but Yeonjun can’t recall the last time he came in here purely to talk to Soobin and not Odi.

It doesn’t smell like much at first in Soobin’s room, but upon taking a deep breath he can pick out Soobin’s unique scent from amongst his laundry and cologne. It’s so faint it passes through his nose and then disappears, but he’s sure it was there for a moment.

“What’s up?” Soobin asks. He’s understandably groggy and awkward-limbed as he sits on the edge of his bed, blinking tiredly up at Yeonjun. At least he’s not pushing Yeonjun out immediately. If he’s open to conversation it means he’s less likely to have something to hide, right?

Yeonjun has no idea what to lead the conversation with. He should’ve planned out what exactly he wanted to say before he knocked. Quick internal prioritising tells him that figuring out Beomgyu’s issues is the most important task at hand, so he says, “Beomgyu told me you guys fought.”

Soobin’s expression shifts instantly into one of irritation, brows furrowing and lips pursing. It’s hilariously similar to the face Beomgyu pulls when he’s annoyed. They probably picked it up from each other.

Which just reminds him that they used to be roommates, who apparently cuddled, and Soobin might be jealous of Yeonjun or something, and the bad feeling in the pit of his stomach grows.

“We didn’t fight,” Soobin insists. He rests his cheek in his palm, elbows balanced on his knees. “He’s just pissed because I told him honestly what I thought would happen over the next few months.”

“Is that really all?” Yeonjun asks.

Soobin narrows his eyes at him. “Yes?” he answers, as a question. “Why would I lie to you? We all have the same goal here.”

Yeonjun rubs the bridge of his nose. It’s not that he thinks Soobin is lying. But he also knows that Soobin can be crass sometimes, and it’s very possible he said something he didn’t mean without realising it. “I don’t know,” he says. “He made it seem like it was a big deal.”

“You should know better than anybody he’s just on edge,” Soobin says with a sigh. He shifts back on his bed until he can lean against the wall, legs crossed. “You too. You guys are acting like feral animals or some shit.”

Yeonjun frowns. “Maybe him, but I’m not,” he defends himself. He’s put a lot of effort in today to be accommodating and friendly to everybody no matter what his mood is like.

“You are. You guys have been glaring at literally everybody. I think it’s affecting you more than you think it is, hyung.”

Like a hypocrite, Yeonjun chews on his lower lip. He really shouldn’t be since he was yelling at Beomgyu over the exact same thing earlier, but the dull pain from his teeth digging into the skin helps ground him. “It’s only because…”

“It doesn’t matter why you’re so attuned to him. What matters is that you are.” Soobin runs his fingers through his hair, pushing his bangs away from his eyes. “Whether it’s because of the bond or because you feel protective of him as a friend or whatever—the reason doesn’t matter.”

Yeonjun scratches his cheek. Soobin isn’t wrong, but… Has Yeonjun really been acting that badly? He wasn’t awake last night, and all day they were filming. How would Soobin even know?

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Yeonjun says.

“You don’t need to actually do or speak to anybody for it to be uncomfortable. You guys huddling in the corner the entire filming acting like you don’t want to be there is bad enough. It wasn’t just him. It’s you too. You aren’t some innocent bystander here.”

Looking back, they did sort of do that, didn’t they? But Yeonjun wasn’t pissed off, he was just concerned for Beomgyu. Which, supposedly, everybody else should be as well?

“And,” Soobin adds, “the fact you’re coming to me at all, acting like I said something bad is concerning. Why would you just believe anything he says when he’s clearly not in the right state of mind?”

“Well, he’s my…” mate, he wants to say, but that doesn’t sound right either, so instead he finishes, “… friend, and he doesn’t have a reason to lie either.”

“What did he say?”

“… That you think I’m going to lose control and jump him during his heat. If he has one.”

Soobin barks out a laugh and then scoffs, “Okay, that’s a pretty fucking big misrepresentation of what I said.” He rolls his eyes in the way he normally only reserves for Beomgyu. “I said that when he goes into heat, you’re going to be affected more than the rest of us and will have to help him. Which is true. It’s just a fact.”

“We don’t know for sure if we’ll have to go off suppressants,” Yeonjun reasons. “And we also don’t know how I will react. Or you. You’re an alpha too. It’s not like if he goes into heat I’m going to—to just want to fuck him all of the sudden. Neither of us are on the verge of losing control whenever Kai goes into pre-heat, so why would it be different for Beomgyu?”

Soobin raises a brow at him. “So you’re saying you won’t help him?”

“No,” Yeonjun hisses.

“So you’d force him to go through it alone?”

Yeonjun’s cheeks were steadily becoming redder and redder. “I’m not going to help him during his heat, Soobin. I don’t know where you got this idea from, but—”

“So you’d let me help him instead?”

Yeonjun freezes, and then he lets out a deep, affronted noise, almost like a growl. Why the fuck would Soobin want to help him? Unless Yeonjun was right and Soobin is interested in him like that. Is that why he’s pressing the issue so hard? Would that not be taking advantage of Beomgyu?

“Exactly,” Soobin says, shaking his head. “The fact is, if, theoretically, he goes into heat, somebody is going to have to help him in some way. Which he will, we all know he will, he has to before we have our comeback. I’m not saying you’re going to want to suddenly have sex with him, but you clearly feel the need to help him in some way. Staying by his side, helping him cool down, giving him your clothing, whatever. He can’t go through it alone. And don’t use Kai as an example, because it’s not the same. Beomgyu hasn’t gone off suppressants in years. It’s going to be terrible for him. You know this. It’s not normal to not have your cycle for four years. Can you imagine how much repressed pheromones or whatever he’s going to be releasing during his heat? It’ll be unbearable if he’s on his own.”

Yeonjun swallows down the lump in his throat, rubbing his eyes with his fists. As much as he doesn’t want to think about it, he can see where Soobin’s coming from. And when he explains it like that, it doesn’t sound nearly as bad as what Beomgyu told him. It also makes a lot more sense than what Beomgyu told him.

He needs to go for a run or something after this, while Beomgyu’s still asleep, so he can get some actual fresh air. Vigorously hydrating clearly is not doing as much for his mental state as he thought it was. His head hurts like a bitch from all these conflicting thoughts swirling around.

“But you know, the way you’re saying it—it sounds like you’re saying I’m going to fuck him. Which makes him think that… you think he needs your protection, or something along those lines.”

“Oh, I know,” Soobin snorts, “but whether he likes it or not, he’s an omega and you’re an alpha and you guys are bonded. If he interprets that as sexual, then that’s on him. And if he doesn’t like hearing the truth about him going into heat soon, he needs to figure out why he doesn’t like hearing it, because it’s not going to go away anytime soon.”

Yeonjun can’t exactly argue with that, but he still feels the need to defend Beomgyu somewhat. “I just think you could be a little less accusatory about it. And maybe a little more tactful,” he says, repeating Beomgyu’s words from earlier. “I think that’s what’s upsetting him the most.”

Soobin stares at him and Yeonjun keeps his gaze level, until Soobin backs down and adverts his own eyes. “Fine,” he says. “But it’s just frustrating for me. He’s usually not—normally he’s so—“ Soobin waves his hands vaguely, and Yeonjun hums. “I mean, I give him advice all the time and he normally doesn’t care. I didn’t think he’d get so offended this time.”

“I understand,” Yeonjun says, though he really doesn’t, since absolutely nobody in the group is going to him for advice on ‘dynamic stuff’. As the oldest, they’re all a bit too shy to burden him with their problems; and as an alpha, the other alphas are too prideful and he always assumed the omegas just didn’t need his help for anything.

“If you get it, then you shouldn’t be mad at me,” Soobin says. He purses his lips. “I can’t believe you believed him. I never said I thought you were going to jump him. Do you really think I’d say that about you? If I thought there was some safety risk of you losing it at any moment, I wouldn’t go to him, I’d go to you. Or management. If you can’t see how ridiculous you’re acting, I don’t know what else to say.” Soobin shrugs.

“It’s not that,” Yeonjun groans, closing his eyes. “It’s just… there’s a lot happening in my head right now. And he was so upset earlier, while you seemed totally fine—”

“I know it’s a lot, but you guys need to stop taking it out on us. I’m not some scapegoat you can take all your negative emotions out on.”

Yeonjun’s pride is taking blow after blow, but he shoves it down because this is Soobin. Soobin has nothing to gain from going behind their backs, especially not Beomgyu’s.

“I’m so… paranoid,” he says, for lack of a better word, “for no reason. It’s not… it’s not your guys’ fault. I’m sorry.”

“Of course we know that.” Soobin crosses his arms. “I don’t need your reassurance.”

“… Okay,” Yeonjun says, neutrally. He would’ve appreciated a ‘that’s okay’ more than what Soobin just said, but. Okay.

“But if there’s anything we can do to help, I expect you guys to tell us. I don’t have any way of knowing what’s going on in your guys’ minds. So you shouldn’t expect us to accommodate you guys without you letting us know what you need.”

“Okay,” Yeonjun repeats.

“Okay,” Soobin says. He doesn’t move or say anything more, only stares at Yeonjun with his eyes tired and lips downturned.

Yeonjun understands that he’s being difficult, but it’s such a—it’s a fucking difficult situation in general. Yeonjun’s already exerting so much effort trying not to smother Beomgyu while they’re doing their jobs.

This is exactly why he needs to take a walk. He can feel himself spiralling. And every time he thinks he’s fine, somebody says or does something that drives him insane again.

“I’ll let you know if I can think of anything,” Yeonjun says, diplomatically. Finally, Soobin’s face seems to relax slightly.

“Alright.” Soobin stands and Yeonjun’s legs tense as he forces himself to stand his ground. He isn’t sure what he thinks Soobin is going to do, but what he actually does is open the door for him. “Just so you know, I’m not mad at you guys. I’m... frustrated, but not mad. I know it’s not your guys’ fault either.”

“Thanks,” Yeonjun mutters, then swallows and says louder, “we’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” Soobin agrees. “I’m sure you will be.” And then he shoves Yeonjun out of his room and slams the door in his face.

 

Yeonjun pops into Kai and Taehyun’s room before he leaves and requests that they call him if Beomgyu wakes up. He’s set his timer for fifteen minutes—fifteen minutes of walking allowed before he has to turn back—and he doubts Beomgyu will wake up in that time, but he can’t be too certain. He’s just going to walk in circles around their apartment building to be safe.

The urge to stick by Beomgyu’s side isn’t nearly as bad when he knows Beomgyu is asleep since he’s not conscious enough to care where Yeonjun is, but he doesn’t want Beomgyu to wake up and freak out. He spends ten minutes at the entryway of their apartment debating the pros and cons of going out before he realises he’s wasting time and dashes out.

They were out earlier for their filming, but driving around in a van and actually standing outside in the fresh air are completely different. He can feel the exact moment the cool evening air enters his lungs; it’s like it washes away the heaviness in his chest instantly, and he can finally fucking breathe for the first time in days.

Now that he’s no longer being bombarded by stressed out pheromones, he can truly appreciate how ridiculous he’s been acting all day. No wonder Soobin was getting so agitated with him, when Yeonjun was being such a dick towards him.

Fuck, he owes Soobin some kind of apology. And their doctor from the other day. And their managers. And everybody they’ve interacted with in the past few days.

The problem is, the moment he gets back inside he’s going to go insane again, because Beomgyu will be right beside him, rubbing all of those stressed out pheromones on Yeonjun. He’s still not entirely sure whether or not it’s the bond or some other type of biology or simply Yeonjun being himself that’s causing him to react so strongly, but—Soobin’s right, it doesn’t matter. What matters is figuring out how to get it to stop.

There has to be a way, right? There are billions of bonded people in this world and they aren’t freaking out every time they’re separated. They don’t fight their best friends whenever they get close to their partner. They’re obviously doing something wrong here.

It feels like two seconds later his timer goes off and he’s forced to drag himself back inside. Now that he’s been outside, he can tell how stuffy their apartment is, even if he can’t smell anything properly. The air is thick, sticky in Yeonjun’s lungs.

“Hyung,” Taehyun chirps from where he’s sitting on the couch. He throws his head back and looks over at him, giving a little wave. “He didn’t wake up yet, just so you know.”

“Thanks.” Yeonjun does his best to smile while he toes his shoes off. Should he be apologising to Taehyun too? He doesn’t think he’s wronged him in any way, but who knows. “Uh, Taehyunnie…”

“Hm?” Taehyun is back on his phone.

“Sorry if… we’ve made you uncomfortable the past few days.” Yeonjun scratches the back of his neck.

“Uncomfortable?” Taehyun repeats, not looking up.

“I don’t know. Just in general, I guess.”

Taehyun hums in acknowledgement. “It’s fine. We know you guys are going through a lot.”

Yeonjun breathes a little sigh of relief. At least one person isn’t mad at them. “Yeah.”

He feels like there’s more to say, but Taehyun seems content to be distracted by his phone, so Yeonjun doesn’t push it. He retreats back to his room, pushing the door open as slowly as possible so it doesn’t make any noise.

The lights are still off, and nothing in the room stirs when he walks in. Beomgyu’s mattress is right by the door, so he has to be careful not to bump into it and jostle anything. It’s too dark for him to make Beomgyu’s form out, but he can hear his small breaths, the steady in, out as he sleeps.

His scent is getting so prominent on Yeonjun’s room. And while Yeonjun has become desensitised to it these past few days, having just been outside and smelled what actual normal air is like, it’s easy to tell how bad it is in here even if it doesn’t bother him. It’s like his room has been doused in dark chocolate.

Lying down on his back on his bed, he lets his legs dangle over the edge. His head is beginning to hurt again. Beomgyu’s scent itself helps a bit; since he’s asleep, it’s all soft. Light and airy, without the sour tinge it’s taken on when he’s awake. Beomgyu must be having good dreams.

He could ask Beomgyu if he can scent him when he wakes up, and maybe it’ll help with whatever it is that’s going on. But then again, that could be a terrible idea when he has no idea if that would make things worse or better. Ugh. He’ll have to ask their managers or call the doctor, because there’s no way any of them are going to be able to live with all this tension in their apartment for more than a few days without snapping.

He yawns and closes his eyes, stretching out. Since Beomgyu is still asleep, he might as well nap as well. He has half a dozen alarms set for the time they’re supposed to take their medication at, so he’s not worried about sleeping through it.

It takes all of his energy to focus on Beomgyu’s scent in the air instead of the amount of shit going on in his brain, but once he relaxes into it, it becomes easy to forget about the rest of his worries and sink into the chocolate in the air, wrapped around him like a blanket.

Notes:

[breaking news: ninetqs updated her fic after 2 months]
👩💻🎤: miss ninetqs what do you have to say for yourself
9️⃣3️⃣4️⃣👧: i was lazy

thanks for reading!! let me know what you think!!!!!! :handheartemoji:

Chapter 6: Beomgyu

Summary:

small tw for needles (this probably will apply to every chapter...) and minor inappropriate touching (not between bmjn or any of the members)

Beomgyu has already determined there’s no way he’s going to be able to last six months of this.

One week since their visit to the clinic means the medication has had time to settle into his bloodstream, and it’s pretty obvious by the way his brain is being ripped apart. Figuratively, but also literally in a sense; he looked up the medication they’re on and found anecdotes about it that they weren’t told when they were at the clinic the other day, like how it’s banned in many countries, and read about the process behind it in layman’s terms.

Which essentially boils down to it filtering out all the pheromones he takes in, meaning that no matter how much he sticks himself to Yeonjun’s side he’ll never actually take in any of his pheromones, meaning that itch in the back of Beomgyu’s mind that feels neglected all the time will never be scratched, meaning nothing they do will ever be enough.

He won’t have a single moment of internal calm for months. The thought makes him so nauseous he has to sit still and swallow down bile every time.

It makes sense. In order to break the bond, they have to stop his body from greedily taking in Yeonjun’s pheromones and making things worse. That’s the whole point—to flush out his body’s dependence on them.

But it also means Beomgyu can never get rid of how his body is always screaming for more and more of Yeonjun, since every scrap he gets is instantly turned into nothingness by the medication before it reaches his brain.

His omega will never be satisfied like this. It’s torture. He has no idea how anybody else has ever been able to complete a cycle of this treatment.

The increased anxiety is why the medication is banned in so many countries; the medicinal impact is powerful, but it can easily be misused to break people. The pill version, the one they were originally told about, sounds so much easier to deal with. It must be a sick joke from the universe that they were deemed to need the heavy-duty daily injection.

Beomgyu is under the supervision of multiple doctors, but he still feels like he’s about to crack. Clearly none of them have ever taken this medication themselves, else they wouldn’t be forcing them to. He wouldn’t wish this on his worst enemy.

He’s getting better at ignoring it during the day, but the moment he stops being busy, it becomes torturous again. With nothing to fill his mind, all he can think about is how his skin feels so wrong over his bones and his bones feel like they’re one second away from turning to ash all because his mate hasn’t given him any attention.

His whole body, inside and out, feels like a ticking time bomb wherein the explosion is him perishing. Every time he lies down now, a little voice in his head pops up and says, how can you sleep when you should be smothering your alpha? There’s no trace of him in you. Does he even care about you?

And none of it is true. Yeonjun has spent so much time coddling him the past few days he’s had to literally fight him off a few times. But no matter how much of Yeonjun’s scent Beomgyu takes in by sitting near him or sleeping in his room, the medication makes it so none of it settles inside him, and they’re back to square one.

This whole ordeal is already taking a toll on his appearance. He doesn’t normally do a whole skincare routine, but his face is so sunken and lifeless now he has no choice but to in an attempt to keep himself looking slightly human.

The serum he rubs into his skin brings some shine back to his cheeks, but not much. They have a photoshoot for GQ and the makeup noonas are going to kill him for looking like the grim reaper has a hold of him.

He can’t help it, though. He’s falling asleep most of the times he lies down these days, especially when he’s near Yeonjun, but he wakes up in cold sweat every time with a hazy nightmare lingering. If he could, he would rather stay awake than deal with waking up winded and panicked every time he tries to rest.

The morning of the shoot, he drags himself out of Yeonjun’s room bright and early—so early it’s not bright out at all—and robotically gets himself ready. Brush teeth, brush hair, put on clothes. Keep himself busy so he doesn’t have to think about how he’s not in the same room as his alpha, who hasn’t scented him in days and hasn’t filled his lungs with sugar-sweet pheromones to keep his brain nice and calm and hasn’t run his hands all over his skin and—

Fuck.

That’s another thing he hates about this stupid bond. No matter how much he tells himself he doesn’t actually want Yeonjun to touch him, his body insists he does, and sometimes it seeps into his mind as well. It’s so easy to get lost in his thoughts, and Beomgyu is already the type who daydreams often.

Do morning skincare routine. Go to the kitchen. Turn on the coffee maker. Get an orange from the fridge. Peel the orange. Take his coffee. Sip it.

The only thing on his mind is his next task, which is currently to eat his orange, and the photoshoot later on. It’ll be their first photoshoot since this whole ordeal started and their first schedule since the medication really kicked in, and Beomgyu’s hands are getting sweaty just imagining all the ways it could go wrong. The variety show was okay, but a lot has changed in the past week, and photoshoots are normally silent and lonely.

Okay, maybe he shouldn’t think about the photoshoot either. The little orange clasped in his hands might be his only lifeline right now.

Take a piece. Chew. Swallow. Repeat.

“… Did that orange kill your family or something?”

Beomgyu’s head jerks up as Taehyun whisks his mug off the coffee maker and—when did he even get in here?

“I’ve been here for like five minutes,” Taehyun explains. He takes the seat across from Beomgyu at the table, a plate of toast in front of him. “And you didn’t say anything, so I figured you were distracted, but seriously, what did that poor orange do?”

“What?” He’s just eating.

Take a piece. Chew. Swallow. Repeat. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less.

“You’re glaring at it so hard,” Taehyun says. “You look a little constipated.”

That brings Beomgyu back to reality a bit more. “Shut up,” he mumbles, and stares down Taehyun’s toast instead. Now that he’s not zoning out, the smell of the food hits him all at once, and his mouth waters. He eats another orange slice.

His sense of smell has gotten uncomfortably sharp, from seeking out Yeonjun’s scent all the time, and now he understands why Kai always complains about it. Not only does it mean he can sometimes catch the other members’ scents even with the scent blockers on, it means all food smells amazing and he’s constantly hungry, even when he’s not.

Ugh. It’s like his mind is in a different plane of existence than his body, and they can’t agree on anything.

Six months of this—it’s just not possible. He’s not sure what’ll happen, but something will, it doesn’t seem like it’ll be good.

Taehyun must’ve just woken up, and he was kind enough to put on a fresh scent suppressant patch before coming into the kitchen, but even though Beomgyu can’t smell him, it’s still unnerving to have an alpha that’s not his alpha so close when his body is so pheromone-starved. It feels wrong, some barbaric instinct telling him of course his alpha doesn’t want him when he’s hanging out around other alphas even though that’s not even remotely it.

“That bad, huh?” Taehyun says, nibbling on his toast, and Beomgyu groans, hiding his face in his arms against the table. Is he that obvious?

“Sorry,” Beomgyu says, his voice muffled. A part of him wants to sink into the ground so he can dissipate into the void out of embarrassment and another part of him wants to punch a wall and scream about how unfair this all is. Yet another case of his mind being unable to decide on one thing. “It’s not you, I just…”

“I know.” The digging of Taehyun’s knife into his toast is like sandpaper in Beomgyu’s ears. “I figured that would be one of the side effects. It’s very common on this medication to be wary of people who are the same sex as your mate.”

Beomgyu peeks up. “You looked it up?”

“Of course,” Taehyun says, in the same tone of voice he uses when he’s saying something he thinks is obvious, and—it probably should’ve been obvious. It’s Taehyun, after all. “I wanted to know how I could support you guys.”

Those words bring the first smile to Beomgyu’s face in what feels like years. “And what did you find out?”

Whatever tentative happiness Beomgyu got from Taehyun’s friendship is dashed by the guilt-ridden expression he takes on answering, “Not… much, honestly. I guess the best thing I could do, theoretically, would be to not go near you guys at all. But that’s not possible.”

And even if it would make Beomgyu feel slightly less antsy, in terms of his social needs, it would likely send him spiraling even harder. So he really doubts that’s the best thing Taehyun could do, when they’re considering his mental health.

Not that they are. Mental stability is evidently not a factor in the decision to break this bond. There has to be some other way they could’ve done this. He doesn’t know how, but some way, even if it was less discrete and would’ve caused them to be found out.

Then again, the scandal that would occur if the public discovered what was going on in their seemingly perfect group would be disastrous, and that would probably cause Beomgyu even more mental turmoil, so.

It’s a lose-lose situation. All because Beomgyu wanted to get some fucking sleep and Yeonjun scenting him worked where his medications didn’t. Now he can sleep, but at what cost?

“But if there’s anything you think I can do, don’t hesitate to let me know,” Taehyun continues, seemingly unperturbed by Beomgyu ignoring him. He’s probably been doing it a lot this week, subconsciously, and god if that doesn’t make him feel fucking miserable. His friends deserve better than for him to freak out and hole himself up inside his own brain every time they talk. “Hyung.”

“Yeah?” Beomgyu answers automatically, blinking himself back to the present.

Taehyun sighs. “Don’t overthink things either,” he advises, and it’s way too late for that advice. Like, twenty-one years too late.

“Easier said than done,” Beomgyu huffs. “Some of us aren’t head empty all the time like you and Soobin.”

Taehyun pouts, “I have lots of thoughts in my head, thank you very much. I just know when to stop them. Now, Soobin hyung on the other hand…”

He can’t even laugh about Soobin being stupid, especially since they haven’t had a proper discussion in days. No matter how much Soobin sulks, Beomgyu can’t bring himself to speak to him knowing all the things Soobin is dwelling on.

It’s not even that they’re unreasonable. Not really. It’s that they’re too reasonable and he doesn’t have the capacity to even consider them. He’ll explode. His heat, Yeonjun’s rut, whatever—those things can be a problem for future Beomgyu. The problem is every time Beomgyu looks at Soobin he recalls their last heated conversation on the topic and that’s not very conducive to ignoring it.

Fuck, he’s leaning more and more towards the punch a wall and scream option of releasing his emotions.

“Good morning,” a hoarse voice says, mid-yawn, and Beomgyu straightens up. He’s learned that the time in the morning when he and Yeonjun have breakfast together, before they go to work and Beomgyu gets mentally exhausted from that as well, are the quietest for him in terms of the incessant buzzing in his brain.

“Morning, hyung,” Taehyun says, those big eyes of his following Yeonjun’s sluggish movements around the kitchen.

The coffee maker is turned on for a third time and then a chilly hand ruffles Beomgyu’s hair. Beomgyu would whine on principle over being treated like a dog, but the motion feels so good he has to focus all his efforts on suppressing a moan instead.

Yeonjun has always been fond of his hair, especially in the context of being an asshole and messing it up on purpose, but this is different. Or at least it feels different. That was his hyung tormenting him for fun—this is his mate showing him affection.

But the giddy feeling leaves as soon as it comes. He wonders how this type of affection would feel off the medication, if he were able to fully enjoy Yeonjun’s brief touches in the context of their bond. How nice it would be, purely on a physical level; he’s read all about how euphoric simple actions feel when bonded.

Well, it might not be that good either way. It’s not a proper bond. Yeonjun isn’t completely his mate. The amount of Beomgyu’s pheromones Yeonjun’s body is working through at this moment likely isn’t even a quarter of the amount Beomgyu’s body is doing for his.

Yeonjun takes his seat beside Beomgyu, their chairs touching with how close they are. Yeonjun shoved them up beside each other the other day and nobody commented on it, nor did they separate the chairs.

“Good morning,” Yeonjun says again, softer. “Did you sleep well?”

Taehyun briskly swoops up his plate and half-full mug of coffee and then takes off down the hallway to his room, leaving them alone without a single word. Beomgyu can’t blame him; he wouldn’t want to be around them either, especially not knowing his presence makes Beomgyu’s omega uncomfortable.

“… Okay,” Beomgyu answers. He’s not sure if he should tell Yeonjun how things are truthfully or not. He doesn’t want to worry him, but he might already know and so lying would just come off as him not trusting Yeonjun. “I slept.”

“I guess that’s all you can ask for,” Yeonjun says, light-hearted. He has an orange as well. They match. Why does that make Beomgyu’s omega so happy? What a stupid thing to get happy over—them eating the same food. “I’ve been falling asleep easier this week because of you.”

Beomgyu blinks at him. “Because of me?” What part of his presence screams comforting or relaxing to Yeonjun? Half the time they’re together, Yeonjun is fretting anxiously over him. That can’t be relaxing.

“Well, maybe not you so much as your scent,” Yeonjun clarifies. “It makes me sleepy.”

“My scent,” Beomgyu repeats. “Chocolate makes you sleepy?”

Yeonjun shrugs. “It’s really nice. My room smells like you now, so… I can’t explain it, but it’s comforting. It’s like I’m in a blanket that smells like you, which reminds me that you’re safe. I don’t know. I guess it’s silly when I say it out loud.”

Beomgyu flushes. He disagrees entirely—one, because Yeonjun’s room definitely still smells like Yeonjun and not him; two, because whenever he catches his own scent he’s shocked by how bitter it is. Like chocolate that’s been left out to rot.

But if Yeonjun finds it sweet still, Beomgyu isn’t going to complain. He’s glad he can help, even if it’s unintentional and completely out of his control.

“I hope today’s shoot goes quickly,” Yeonjun chats, keeping up the conversation largely one-sidedly. Beomgyu has to commend him for his ability to talk while Beomgyu so obviously sits and sulks in silence. He appreciates the effort, even if he doesn’t have much to say.

“Me too,” Beomgyu says.

“Don’t worry. I’ll stick as close to you as possible,” Yeonjun says, leaning his head atop Beomgyu’s.

“I wasn’t worrying,” Beomgyu mumbles, and it’s the truth. He is worrying, but not about that. Yeonjun is just as dedicated to keeping within his vicinity as Beomgyu is to him.

“Good,” Yeonjun hums. “After we’re getting ice cream, so. Just keep that in mind while we’re working—at least there’s something waiting for us at the end.”

Beomgyu raises a brow at him. “Who told you that?”

“Soobinnie. It’s supposed to be a surprise, but…”

What are they, children? Are sweets that big of an incentive for them to stay in line at their workplace?

… The answer is yes. Especially if it’s the fancy ice cream shoppe that sells gummy worms as a topping. Right now, Beomgyu needs all the serotonin he can get, no matter how small the source is. It’s the little things in life.

“Maybe life isn’t all terrible right now,” Beomgyu says, finally taking the last bite of his orange. He hopes the ice cream trip helps cheer him up. He hates being sad. In their little group, he’s supposed to be the optimistic one; that’s his thing. Not acting like himself makes him feel like an impostor in his own body.

“Maybe,” Yeonjun agrees, chuckling. “Maybe.”

 

Beomgyu is normally paired up with their two youngest members for shoots, but today he’s with Yeonjun, and it’s obviously not a coincidence. Obvious to them and their manager, anyway. It’s a generic concept—stare into the camera, look cool, stare away from the camera, look even cooler. The only exciting photo is one where they’re shot with confetti so that it reflects light into the camera.

Beomgyu and Kai have been relegated to wearing shorts and blazers in some kind of pseudo-runway outfit, and he can’t stop rubbing his legs in between pictures because of how cold the studio is.

“Don’t worry, we’re almost done,” Yeonjun whispers to him while they look over the pictures they’ve taken thus far. He’s been stern and quiet the entire time, only smiling towards Beomgyu and less so to the staff.

“We still have individual shoots to do,” Beomgyu says, miserably.

“They won’t take that long. You’re first, you can relax after that.”

Beomgyu doesn’t have the heart to explain how relaxing is physically impossible for him. At the moment, Yeonjun is close and safe and the only reason he’s not shivering, so he can deal with the restlessness. He needs to build up his optimism for how Yeonjun will soon be forced away from him so they can take their solo photos.

“It won’t take long,” Beomgyu repeats, manifesting. He holds onto Yeonjun’s arm tightly, knowing full well there are cameras filming them. He just can’t bring himself to care; nobody is going to find out what’s going on simply because Beomgyu is being a little clingier than usual.

They finish up their duo photos and transition into the solo ones. Yeonjun is careful to linger just outside of the camera space, his eyes fixed on Beomgyu, and Beomgyu’s stupid inner omega preens under the attention. Yeonjun is only sticking around for his sake, and it does help a little to know Yeonjun is only a few steps away.

It’s unfortunate that Beomgyu doesn’t even look that good today. Average at best. They’ll have to do a lot of retouching to get rid of the dark circles under his eyes. He wonders what physical qualities Yeonjun sees when he looks at him, if it’s his pretty bone structure or his eye bags and chapped lips underneath all the makeup.

He grows uneasy thinking about how Yeonjun might see him, and in the blink of an eye, his shoot is over. He supposes overthinking is good for passing time—just not in a very pleasant way.

As he walks past Yeonjun, he reaches for the alpha’s hand and squeezes it for a brief moment, only slightly embarrassed by his own initiation. He doesn’t have the capacity to be mortified anymore, not when he’s occupied with wolfing down scraps of Yeonjun’s attention.

Yeonjun’s shoot goes slower than Beomgyu’s. The photographer berates him for looking too stern, and Yeonjun keeps having to relax his facial muscles.

It’s rare for Yeonjun to ever get complaints while they’re doing a shoot. He’s easily the best model out of all of them, dozens of expressions and poses up his sleeve at any given moment. He must be more affected than he’s letting on.

Beomgyu is immensely grateful once Yeonjun finishes and they’re allowed to retreat back to the waiting room. It’s like a literal weight off his shoulders. Kai and Taehyun go next for pairs, leaving him, Yeonjun, Soobin, and one of GQ’s staff members in the room. Their manager is still in the shooting area, watching over everything.

Yeonjun relaxes into a conversation with Soobin, and while it stirs something unpleasant in Beomgyu’s stomach, he forces it down his throat deep into the recesses of his mind. He might be abnormally anxious nowadays, but the idea of having to be jealous of Soobin is just plain unreasonable. Soobin is his packmate, his best friend, and while Beomgyu is angry at him right now, he’s never felt threatened by him before this. He needs to focus on that instead.

He could join their conversation, but he doesn’t have to. He can resist the urge. He can. It’s a good way to prove himself in his own eyes, and so he actively ignores Yeonjun and Soobin’s chattering to instead greet the staff member guarding their room.

He’s a bit shorter than Beomgyu himself, but far bulkier, decked out in a loose black t-shirt and jeans. Beomgyu doesn’t need to be able to smell him to know he’s an alpha; most people working for security at entertainment buildings are, for a myriad of unscientific, stereotypical reasons.

“Hello,” Beomgyu says, bowing, hands clasped politely in front of him. The staff member’s gaze lands on him, and he smiles brightly, as friendly as a puppy. It should embolden Beomgyu, but he hears Soobin’s airy laughter behind him and feels even more unfairly bitter for no reason. He has to make the conscious decision to keep himself still and continue what he started, else he’ll come off as a total weirdo, and he doesn’t want something about him spreading online.

“Hey,” the staff member says, still grinning. “Do you need something? If you want water, I can go grab it for you, or…”

“Um, no, no, I’m fine, just—thank for your hard work,” he says, and then thrusts out his hand to shake. “Are you new? I’ve never seen you before.” His voice only wavers a little, and he smiles.

See? He can hold a normal conversation. He’s great at holding normal conversations. The guy’s an alpha and a stranger and Beomgyu is talking to him perfectly fine. He can do this.

The staff member tilts his head as if confused by Beomgyu’s sudden question, then chuckles and shakes Beomgyu’s hand.

To be honest, Beomgyu didn’t even think before he did it. It’s instinct to shake hands with people he doesn’t know. The guy’s grip is firm and calloused—naturally, he’s working at security—and Beomgyu hopes his nausea doesn’t show on his face. It’s not this guy’s fault Beomgyu is a newly-bonded omega trying to act perfectly normal.

“I used to work on another floor, but I got moved here,” the guy explains. “My name’s Hyunjae.”

“I’m Beomgyu,” Beomgyu says.

The guy—Hyunjae—just looks him up and down and very pointedly raises a brow at him. At first Beomgyu thinks he’s being checked out, but then he realises introducing himself was completely pointless. He’s literally one of the stars of this shoot. Of course Hyunjae knows who he is, it’s his job to. He basically just implied this guy can’t even do the basics of his job.

Fuck, Beomgyu is such a mess right now.

“Sorry,” Beomgyu quickly tries to fix, “I know you know who I am, I—” That sounds even worse. “Not that I’d assume, but—”

“It’s alright, I’m just kidding,” Hyunjae snickers. He leans against the doorway, casually crossing his arms, and he doesn’t seem to be genuinely confused or upset. Beomgyu breathes an inward sigh of relief. “Honestly, I’m a huge fan of you guys, so…”

Beomgyu perks up. Most of their fans are unpresented teenagers, or women older than them; he rarely gets to meet male alpha fans. “Really?”

“Why do you sound so shocked?” Hyunjae rubs the back of his head sheepishly.

“I’m not!” Beomgyu blatantly lies, then winces. “I mean… our usual demographic is a bit younger, so… I’m flattered?”

“You’re pretty popular amongst the people I know,” Hyunjae muses.

“Really?” Beomgyu repeats, blinking owlishly. “We don’t get many adult males at our concerts,” he admits, scratching his cheek.

“Not all of you guys,” Hyunjae corrects. He sounds almost apologetic as he says, “You.”

“… Oh.” Beomgyu’s face goes bright red. He’s not sure what to do with this information. It might’ve been flattering a week ago, but now he’s bonded, and his mate is right there. He’s been trying not to think about getting attention from random alphas. It makes him want to curl up in a hole and never come out. “Uh, well. Thank… thank you?”

“Don’t thank me,” Hyunjae says, shaking his head with a smile. He doesn’t seem bothered at all by Beomgyu’s extreme reactions, and Beomgyu is grateful for his nonchalance. “How was the shoot? I don’t know much about photography, but…”

They talk casually about the shoot, how it feels to be scrutinised; then about when their comeback will be. He’s surprised to find that the alpha is a real fan, as in ‘knows all of their songs’ kind of fan, even if he doesn’t watch any of their extra content.

Beomgyu has always been an excellent conversationalist, and he refuses to let his overactive, long-suppressed omega take that away from him. Once he finds his footing, talking becomes easier, and he tells his own brain to shut up.

Yeonjun is perfectly safe behind him, now on his phone, and the alpha Beomgyu is speaking to is friendly and open. Everything is fine. He can do this. Like, he can seriously do this. It’s so nice to just be normal.

“Your hair used to be red, right? That’s why they called you cranberry?” Hyunjae asks. “I only started listening to your guys’ music recently, but…”

“Yeah.” Beomgyu misses his red hair, but having to get it redyed every week was a pain. “It used to be so bright.”

Hyunjae laughs. “It’s more like orange now. They should call you orange instead.”

“That’s what I had for breakfast,” Beomgyu says.

“They do say you are what you eat,” Hyunjae says, and his eyes shift towards Beomgyu’s hair. His lips fall into a little surprised ‘o’. “I just noticed you have confetti in your hair,” he says, laughing. Hyunjae lifts his hand, and Beomgyu doesn’t realise it’s coming closer and not further until his fingers touch the side of his head.

“Um.” Beomgyu doesn’t know how to react as Hyunjae picks the confetti out. Beomgyu can feel every millimetre of the pads of Hyunjae’s fingers on his skin.

“It’s pretty. Your hair, I mean. Soft, too,” Hyunjae remarks.

Suddenly, their banter isn’t as cute anymore, and Beomgyu is so surprised by the sudden touch that he’s stunned into silence.

“It suits you,” Hyunjae continues. He’s not exerting any kind of alpha hormones or anything, he’s not cornering Beomgyu or otherwise doing anything untoward to him, but the fingers brushing through the strands of hair on the side of his head aren’t the right ones and Beomgyu is suddenly so uncomfortable he might throw up.

He opens his mouth and intends to politely ask the alpha to take a step back, but instead the only thing he manages to get out is a startled gasp as Hyunjae’s fingers graze his nape, where the scent suppressant patch is stuck to his skin, like he’s petting a dog.

He doesn’t even have a chance to attempt to speak before he’s abruptly being ripped away, quite literally, one hand gripping his waist tightly and the other shoving Hyunjae back.

“Get back,” Yeonjun growls, and Beomgyu would find it hot if he wasn’t scared shitless by all of the pheromones suddenly clouding the air. It’s tangible, just like the day Beomgyu woke up dazed and practically feral, high on instinct.

He sees Kai gag out of the corner of his eye at the doorway, and Taehyun frozen in the same amount of shock Beomgyu is. They must’ve just finished their shoot. Soobin is the only one to actually do anything, and he’s on Yeonjun’s side in an instant, pulling him away, which causes Beomgyu to be pulled as well.

“Hyung—” Soobin starts, but he’s cut off.

“I wasn’t doing anything to him,” Hyunjae says defensively, squaring his shoulders.

“You were touching him,” Yeonjun accuses, and without the context of him and Beomgyu being bonded, he’s coming off as mildly insane with how much offence he’s taking. The fact he’s so angry his scent is coming through the blockers at all is alarming.

There’s sweat pooling on the back of Beomgyu’s neck and an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach telling him to grab Kai and run, because fights between alphas are terrible to witness as an omega. Alphas often raise their voices while arguing—like most people do—and sometimes they can inject a little too much force into it.

It’s the same instinct that made Beomgyu roll over like a bitch for Yeonjun the other day, when Yeonjun snapped at him. He hates it. And it’s something that can’t be suppressed, which is just plain annoying.

Technically, there are ways for omegas to similarly get betas and alphas to submit to them, but Beomgyu doesn’t know how to do it. There’s a lot more media out there of alphas controlling people than vice-versa to learn from. Leaps made in equality don't erase the thousands of years of alphas being seen as stronger, even though they aren’t.

But even if he wants to leave, he can’t, because Yeonjun is cutting off the circulation in his wrist by holding onto him so tightly, so that idea is a bust. That, combined with his usual urge to glue himself to Yeonjun’s side now heightened tenfold, and the uncomfortably animalistic urge to do something stupid like punch Hyunjae to protect Yeonjun—even though Yeonjun started it—keep his feet firmly planted on the ground.

“As a friend,” Hyunjae says. He scowls. “Are you serious right now? He’s not your property.”

Yeonjun’s lips press together so tightly his entire face goes red.

“You’re supposed to be doing your job, not fucking flirting with an idol,” he spits.

“Even if I was flirting with him, which I wasn’t, why is your first instinct to come over here and act like I just committed a crime?” Hyunjae asks, tone baffled and eyes narrowed. “I’ve met some entitled idols, but wow. This is just next level.”

“It has nothing to do with me. It has to do with him.” Yeonjun’s nostrils flare.

“Again, he’s not yours. I think he can decide whether he’s uncomfortable or not.” Hyunjae crosses his arms. “I didn’t take you to be one of those alphas who thinks they have control over their omega friends.”

This is bad. This is really bad. Unbeknownst to Hyunjae, Yeonjun does see Beomgyu as his, and while his original touch was relatively innocuous, at this point he’s just provoking a bonded alpha into a fight. And he doubts there’s a single bonded person on this planet that wouldn’t get into a fight for their partner, no matter how weak or fragile the bond is. Despite Yeonjun’s side of their bond being less intense than Beomgyu’s, he’s clearly affected by… whatever it is he’s being affected by, and Beomgyu wouldn’t advise anybody in their right mind to fuck around with somebody high on protective instinct.

Even Beomgyu is itching to do something, and if his limbs weren’t so stiff he would’ve already stepped in between them.

“That’s not what I—” Yeonjun tugs at his own hair, clearly trying to hold back.

He doesn’t move, but he somehow tenses even more, and Beomgyu clears his throat, finally finding his own voice. “Hyung, you don’t need to…” He just doesn't want anybody getting hurt. Only god knows how the fuck they’d explain to their management why Yeonjun went viral online for picking a fight with somebody.

“Yes, I do,” Yeonjun says. “Did you even ask before touching him?” he directs towards Hyunjae.

Hyunjae completely ignores Yeonjun and looks at Soobin instead. “You’re just going to stand back and watch this? Aren’t you supposed to be your pack’s alpha?”

“Answer me,” Yeonjun snaps. “Do you think you’re going to get away with this? Are you serious? You don’t see how touching an idol when you’re supposed to be protecting them might come off as inappropriate? Especially when you didn’t ask?”

“This is ridiculous,” Hyunjae laughs, almost hysterically. “I touched him for two seconds. As a friend. Seriously, what is wrong with you? I don’t even like omegas.” Then, for some idiotic reason, Hyunjae continues while Beomgyu is about to save his ass by speaking up again, “Just because you want to fuck him doesn’t mean that everybody—Shit!”

Kai screams before Yeonjun’s fist even hits Hyunjae’s cheek, and Soobin screams after, grabbing Yeonjun and shoving him against the wall, tearing him away from Beomgyu in the process.

“Hyung! What the fuck?” Soobin yells.

Yeonjun kicks his legs, growling, eyes bloodshot, and holy shit, it makes him realise that even their most intense expressions during Frost are nothing to the actual craziness Yeonjun is exhibiting right now.

Seeing this sort of stuff in movies makes it seem so distant from their reality. Like yeah, people can go insane over hormones, but that doesn’t mean they do, because society is civilised and suppressants are mass-produced.

But clearly some combination of the bond and medication is fucking up Yeonjun’s capacity to think like a normal human being in the twenty-first century, because he’s acting like how people do in movies set in the Medieval times. If this is what they’re all like underneath all the layers of societal expectations of civility and suppressants—how utterly terrifying.

“Can somebody please get somebody?” Soobin manages to get out, as Yeonjun continues to struggle. “Fucking anybody, please?”

Taehyun rushes out of the room, bumping into Hyunjae on the way and seemingly not caring. Hyunjae nurses his cheek, and while there’s no blood, there’s going to be a nasty bruise.

“Fucking—son of a bitch,” Yeonjun says, baring his teeth. Hyunjae lifts his head, horror turning into determination, and Beomgyu swiftly steps in front of him before he can move towards where Soobin is holding Yeonjun back.

“You’re just going to let him treat you like this?” Hyunjae directs to Beomgyu. “I didn’t take you as one of those omegas that let people walk all over them. I thought you were better than that.”

Beomgyu glowers, and whatever good will he had for Hyunjae quickly dissipates. “Don’t talk about things you don’t know anything about,” he says, snappish, then forces himself to take a deep breath. Bad idea, when the room is filled with the scents of multiple angry alphas.

“I barely even touched you.” Hyunjae says, owl-eyed, laughing still.

“I don’t think you get to decide that either!” Beomgyu explodes, and while he speaks politely, he can’t help the way his voice rises. “He’s my m—” mate, “member—and he knows me a lot better than you do. You don’t even know me and you’re trying to say how I should or shouldn’t feel? How can you go off about alphas being controlling or whatever when you’re doing the exact same thing and you don’t even—”

He only cuts off because their manager and another staff member throw the door open, and Kai promptly reaches for Beomgyu’s hand to drag him out of the way as they go straight to where Soobin and Yeonjun are shouting at each other. The other staff member grabs Hyunjae, asking him what happened.

Their manager rips open a first aid kit on the table and pulls out a syringe. Beomgyu doesn’t flinch at the sight of them after a week, but it still makes him wince to see it sink into Yeonjun’s skin.

“It’s a hormone stabiliser,” their manager explains. “Keep him still. It should only take a few minutes at most to take effect.” He sighs and looks between the five of them wearily. “What the fuck happened, guys?”

Soobin opens his mouth to speak and Taehyun pats his shoulder.

“I’ll explain,” Taehyun says.

Soobin’s lips press together in silent irritation but he nods, still holding onto Yeonjun as the other begins to blink himself back to normalcy.

Taehyun explains what happened to their manager, keeping things cut and dry. Their manager turns to Beomgyu for confirmation, and Beomgyu inexplicably turns to Kai, who just stares back at him, still pale from shock.

Beomgyu’s brain is so wrought with conflicting emotions he thinks he’s internally shut down. He doesn’t know where to begin explaining how he feels when he doesn’t know how he feels in the first place—but considering how shaken up Kai is, he has a feeling that once he’s in his right mind, he’ll look back on this situation and be both pissed off and terrified.

“We were just talking,” Beomgyu says, uneasily, “and then he touched me out of nowhere. I was surprised, and I guess that it triggered... something.”

“Fuck,” he hears Yeonjun say, and he spins arounds to see Soobin finally releasing him. Yeonjun staggers onto his own feet, panting hard. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Yeonjun,” their manager says, his voice far angrier than when he spoke to Beomgyu. “Why would you not speak up if—”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Yeonjun says, not even acknowledging their manager’s words. He turns on his heel, rushing out of the room, ignoring their manager trying to grab him on the way out and brushing right past Hyunjae and the other staff member.

Beomgyu follows him without thinking, all the way to the bathroom. He opens the door right as Yeonjun leans over the sink and empties the contents of his stomach out into it, a terrible retching noise echoing in the room.

“Hyung? Are you—wait—”

He only barely manages to catch Yeonjun’s body as he faints, and by the time somebody catches up to them and shoves the bathroom door open, he’s about to throw up himself.

What. the. fuck.

Notes:

[breaking news: ninetqs updated her fic after 2 months] [again]
👩💻🎤: miss ninetqs what do you have to say for yourself [again]
9️⃣3️⃣4️⃣👧: i was lazy [again]

sorry... THIS IS WHY I STOPPED PROMISING I'D UPDATE SOON but to be fair this time i did write like 100k in between the last update and this one, just not for this fic LOL since my twitter au is finally done i plan to work on this more!! i want to get it finished by the summer but we'll see [cbg_heh.jpeg] the chapter count keeps rising though which i'm so sorry i am so bad at controlling my ideas

this fic is a little difficult for me to write bcs i really think hard on every single thing that happens lmaoo so please... do let me know if you liked it and what your thoughts are!!! i appreciate it a lot

Chapter 7: Yeonjun

Notes:

this chapter is where this fic begins to earn its E rating (albeit lightly) so... tread carefully

If the theory about multiple universes is true, it means there’s a version of himself out there who lives in a world without all this shit. This shit being heats and ruts and scents and whatever. Just them as people and that’s it.

It sounds nice. It sounds perfect. Yeonjun would happily murder the version of himself there and take his place if he could, assuming everything else was the exact same. A world where he doesn’t feel like they’re all constantly on the verge of reverting to feral animals, like they’re all just cavemen masquerading as civilised people and not actual civilised people.

A week ago, Yeonjun would have judged someone for saying that biology has that much control over them. Suppressants are mass-produced and distributed worldwide, and even off suppressants, he can’t imagine any instinct being that powerful.

Until now. Now, he’s blinking himself to consciousness with a splitting headache, an IV in his arm, a horrible, bitter taste in his mouth, and he’s not so sure anymore.

“Oh, thank god, you’re awake.” Stiffly, Yeonjun turns his head to see Taehyun looking up from his phone, legs crossed and one cheek against his palm. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” Yeonjun rasps. He squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to take a deep breath. It tightens the invisible grip around his lungs and burns his throat, but he manages it.

His first thought is, what the fuck is wrong with me? as all the memories flood back at once. Being on edge all day, the whisper of keep him safe tugging at his ear like a ghost; hearing Beomgyu’s startled gasp when that fucking creep touched him and seeing literal red; rushing over, saying some things, punching him.

He doesn’t regret confronting him, but he does regret punching him. Not because he didn’t deserve it but because he could’ve cost them everything. He assumes he hasn’t, since Taehyun isn’t yelling at him nor is their manager lingering around to commit a crime against him, but he could have.

And he’s supposed to be the oldest. The most mature member simply based on life experience. He’s lectured them dozens of times before on how they’re not controlled by biology, how it’s childish to use it as an excuse, and now here he is doing all that and worse.

Fuck.

His second thought is doubly as desperate: Where is Beomgyu?

“He’s at the convenience store,” Taehyun answers. Yeonjun doesn’t know if he said that out loud or if it was just obvious on his face what he was thinking of. “They all are. Except me, obviously. We drew straws, and I was put on watch duty.”

Yeonjun licks his chapped lips. If they’re off getting stuff to eat, that implies they’ve either been here for a while or plan to stay awhile. Or both.

“How long has it been?”

“Like eighteen hours or so?” Taehyun guesses.

Yeonjun gapes. “Almost a full day?”

“Yeah. You really fucked up your body apparently,” Taehyun says.

“Fucked up what?” Yeonjun props himself up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Fucking up his body—as an idol, hearing that line isn't exactly unfamiliar. But he hasn’t been pushing himself lately, not physically. “How?”

Taking a deep breath, his nose burns slightly, and he sneezes. He rubs at it, wincing. It’s like something foreign tickling the inside of his nose.

Taehyun has already gone back to his phone, thumb scrolling absently down his screen as he continues, ignoring Yeonjun’s question entirely, “We took these pills that block our scent glands. It’s mandatory for this part of the hospital. You’ll get used to it. It just burns a bit because of all the sanitizer in the air.”

Yeonjun sniffs the air, and now that Taehyun mentions it, he realises he can’t smell anything but antiseptic and hospital food. Not smelling Taehyun is normal, but not being able to smell anybody is extremely strange.

He can only imagine how horrible waking up to a mixture of heightened and stressed scents would be like, so he’s grateful for it. But it’s discomforting at the same time, to have nothing human to wake up to. It doesn’t feel natural, even in the context of a hospital. There’s no scent of life—like everything has been wiped clean, including them.

“Is this endocrinology?”

“Yeah. I’ve learned way too much about alpha hormones in the past day.” Taehyun’s nose crinkles. “Mostly because nobody here uses their inside voices.”

“You’re an alpha too,” Yeonjun points out. “And you’re nosy. You’d want to know.”

“Maybe not in so much detail,” Taehyun says dryly. “They haven’t told us much directly, though. They’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

“They haven’t made a diagnosis?” Yeonjun pulls at his hospital gown, squinting down at his own body like he can figure out what’s amiss from the outside.

“Other than that your hormone levels are all fucked up, no. I mean, they told us what the symptoms are, but not the cause.” Taehyun shrugs. “I’m sure the doctor will explain it to you when he gets back. He said he would be back at eleven, which is in… seven minutes, so. Unless you want me to call for him right now.”

“It’s fine.” Yeonjun rubs his nose. He needs the seven minutes of silence.

Basic deductive reasoning tells him it’s something related to their medication regime going wrong, but he’s still irrationally afraid of what he’s going to be told. If they come back and say they need to do something more drastic than what they’ve already been doing, or worse, if they blame him for this, he’ll lose it.

After all, it couldn’t be because of him. It can’t be him that did all that. He might be overprotective on a normal day, yeah, but now that he’s thinking it over, he would never punch somebody. Especially as an idol. He values both his job and their career too much for that. Why would he punch somebody when he could just talk to them?

He doesn’t know why. Which is how he knows it can’t be because of him.

Looking back, all he remembers is being overcome with some crazed, incessant need to keep everybody away from Beomgyu, like something unspeakably terrible would happen if he didn’t protect Beomgyu by any means necessary.

He cringes. He sounds like a character from a shitty romance drama, not a regular human being.

There’s a creaking noise as the door outside the room opens, then a loud stream of chatter from Soobin and Kai. Yeonjun perks up, instinctively sniffing the air for Beomgyu then feeling stupid for it when he remembers all of their scents have been wiped clean. He reaches for the tangle of wires to get out of bed and greet them.

He would already be out of bed if it wasn’t for Taehyun patting his leg and shaking his head. Yeonjun flushes at the judgement in Taehyun’s stare and promptly sits back down.

Is he so desperate he’ll jump out of bed to see Beomgyu? Taehyun must think so poorly of him right now. Punching somebody and acting so clingy towards their friend who doesn’t even want to be with him. After all these years he and Taehyun have spent training and working together, he’s positive that whatever respect he built up in Taehyun’s mind has gone down the drain.

“He’s awake,” Soobin yells.

He hears a crash, and then Beomgyu screaming back, “He’s what?”

Barely half a second later, the door to Yeonjun’s room swings open and somebody slams into Yeonjun’s side.

“Be careful of the IV line,” Taehyun warns, untangling the line from between Beomgyu and Yeonjun’s bodies.

Beomgyu doesn’t move or acknowledge Taehyun’s words, only nuzzles his head into Yeonjun’s shoulder. “We were so worried,” he mumbles, squeezing Yeonjun tightly. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”

Yeonjun says nothing, too busy soaking in Beomgyu’s warm, soft arms around him. The second his brain registers Beomgyu’s closeness, every bit of anxiety Yeonjun has goes poof.

And shit, it’s terrifying to know how much of an effect Beomgyu has on him, but he can’t bring himself to care when he has his arms full of his omega.

His. His. His.

“I hate you so much,” Beomgyu whispers, sounding genuinely mad as he hugs Yeonjun tightly. “I was so worried. Fuck you.”

Yeonjun laughs quietly. “I’m sorry.” He really is.

There’s no trace of Beomgyu’s scent on his own skin, no rich chocolate lurking within his scent gland, and Yeonjun pouts into his shoulder. Beomgyu’s scent might not be heavy, but Yeonjun has gotten used to it wafting in the background of everywhere they go. The lack of organic scent in the hospital is bad, but the lack of Beomgyu’s scent specifically is a billion times worse.

He allows himself to brush his nose against Beomgyu’s neck for one second before pulling away. The last thing he wants to do is crowd Beomgyu.

Beomgyu sits down on the free chair by the bed, opposite to Taehyun, and drags it closer.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, laying one hand over Yeonjun’s and the other on the side of his chair.

“Like shit,” Yeonjun answers, once again.

“… Yeah, that’s pretty much what I expected,” Beomgyu says, laughing faintly.

“Do you want anything to drink, hyung? We bought some juice!” Kai dumps out the contents of his grocery bag onto the table beside Beomgyu.

Yeonjun totally forgot Kai and Soobin entered the room along with Beomgyu at all. It’s too late to greet them now. It’ll just be awkward.

Guiltily, he smiles at Kai. “I’m okay, but thanks,” he says. Kai smiles back at him and instead passes out drinks to Soobin and Beomgyu. “What did… I mean, what happened?”

“Other than that you punched somebody?” Soobin asks, unscrewing the cap on his orange juice and downing it all in one gulp.

“After,” Yeonjun clarifies.

“They took you here in an ambulance, but only Beomgyu hyung was allowed inside with you. Then after a few hours we were allowed inside, and now we’ve just been sitting around trying to occupy ourselves since then.”

“... What about the guy?”

“The guy you punched?” Yeonjun grimaces and Taehyun chuckles humourlessly. “He got fired. We know that for sure.”

Yeonjun puffs his chest out a bit, silently pleased. Punching may not have been the right avenue to take, but he’s glad the guy got let go. Not only because of his behaviour towards Beomgyu, but because who knows how he treated other omegas too? He deserved to be fired. Fucking asshole.

“Don’t look so proud of yourself,” Soobin grumbles. “They probably made a settlement with him to keep quiet.”

“I hope the money doesn’t come out of our food budget for next month.” Kai sighs wistfully.

Yeonjun bites back his snide comment of not the important thing here, Kai. He would much rather eat shitty food for the next month and know that fucker is unemployed than have to continue on with their jobs wondering if he’s harassing people still.

Plus, Kai is an omega. He should understand that more than Yeonjun does.

Reeling back his irritation, he tries to focus his thoughts towards the more important thing at hand. The guy already got fired—there’s no reason to still think about him. He didn’t deserve Yeonjun’s anger.

“You guys don’t know anything else?” he says, wanting to make sure he has the full story of what happened while he was knocked out.

“That’s it,” Taehyun confirms. “Like I said five minutes ago, they told us about your hormone levels and stuff, and how that affected you. But not why your hormone levels got fucked up.”

“They wouldn’t tell me.” Beomgyu speaks up, mouth twisting. “So… it must be something serious.”

“Of course it’s serious. He punched somebody,” Taehyun says.

Beomgyu reaches over the bed to shove Taehyun, scowling, and for once Taehyun doesn’t squabble back. How generous of him.

Or more likely, he doesn’t want to aggravate Yeonjun by shoving the person he thinks of as his mate. Taehyun is too smart to make a mistake like that.

“So stupid that they wouldn’t tell us,” Soobin mutters. “Or at least Beomgyu. What’s the point in keeping us in the dark?”

“But management knows,” Kai says, twiddling his thumbs. “If it was something really serious, I’m sure they would’ve told us when we moved from the ER…”

“Again, he punched somebody. No matter what it is, it’s serious.” Taehyun sighs. “Obviously, Yeonjun hyung is not the type to punch someone normally, so it—”

“Stop speculating, guys.” The door swings open again to reveal their manager just hanging up a call. “The doctor is coming down the hall. Make yourselves presentable.”

Easier said than done when Yeonjun is in a hospital bed. He straightens up, planting his hands on his lap. Beomgyu does the same, looking over his shoulder at the doorway.

“How are we not presentable?” Kai complains. He looks down at his own clothing.

“I mean mentally.”

Yeonjun doubts any of them will be mentally ready for what the doctor has to say no matter how much time they’re given. He will never be mentally ready for any of this, period.

The doctor is a middle-aged man with fluffy black hair and kind eyes, but after these past few days, Yeonjun finds himself distrusting doctors before they speak a single word to him.

“Alright, the rest of you, go sit in the lobby again,” their manager says, jabbing a thumb towards the door. Kai whines and Taehyun seems reluctant to leave his padded chair, but Soobin wrangles them both out.

Beomgyu plays with Yeonjun’s hand, fingers slipping back and forth between Yeonjun’s own. He seems fine, calmer overall than he’s been in the past week, in fact—but Yeonjun has known him long enough to know that doesn’t necessarily reflect how he is on the inside. If anything, Beomgyu being so neutral on the outside is a sign that he’s fucked up on the inside.

Yeonjun feels terrible for him, if he’s had to wait this entire time not knowing what’s going on because Yeonjun wasn’t awake yet. It can’t be helped, since Beomgyu isn’t his legal partner or anything and he doesn’t have any rights to Yeonjun’s medical info, but still.

Yeonjun squeezes Beomgyu’s hand tightly and Beomgyu smiles at him. The exhaustion in his eyes makes Yeonjun feel exhausted too.

The doctor sits down on the chair Taehyun left, clipboard in one hand and phone in the other. Once the door is shut and secured, he clears his throat.

“Okay,” he says. “Yeonjun-ssi, how are you feeling right now? Is your head okay? Is any part of your body hurting?”

“My head hurts a bit,” Yeonjun admits. “But other than that, I feel alright. Is something supposed to hurt?”

“Not at all.” The doctor smiles at him. “We’ll test you again before you leave, but you shouldn’t be getting migraines or any sort of physical pain. Only intense discomfort.”

Yeonjun would like to say that intense discomfort can be just as bad as pain is, but he keeps his mouth shut.

“So…” Beomgyu crosses his arms. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Well, we made a preliminary diagnosis, but one of the primary factors in making a definitive diagnosis is hearing how you feel, from you, Yeonjun-ssi. As in, what you think. So it was important that we didn’t say make a statement on what’s happening until you woke up and we could question you.”

The logic is sound. But he still feels bad for Beomgyu. He’s such a worrier, and this must be a thousand times worse than normal. Beomgyu doesn’t speak up at all, which tells Yeonjun that he’s either sulking in his head or deeply lost in thought.

Yeonjun hates wasting time. Falling asleep and waking up days or years later is one of his worst nightmares—to know that all his friends and family lived on without him being aware. And this is the person he’s supposed to be protecting, now worrying over him…

“Yeonjun-ssi,” the doctor speaks up again, and Yeonjun literally jolts out of his thoughts. “Have you noticed any side effects from the other medication you’ve been put on?”

Yeonjun scratches his cheek. “I don’t know if it’s from the medication, but… I’ve been more agitated? I guess?”

“And more easily distracted,” their manager agrees.

“Mm…” The doctor taps his pen against his knee. “As you two already know, this bond isn’t entirely equal—hence why you two have different dosages for the same medication. So that could be one reason for your issue, but it’s likely more than that. Can you walk me through what happened, in your view?”

“Uh, well…” Yeonjun ducks his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He has to dig deep to remember anything concrete, beyond the stream of incoherent rambling that his alpha provides him when he thinks about Beomgyu being threatened. “I was talking to Soobin, like a few feet away from Beomgyu, and—I saw out of the corner of my eye that he was talking to someone, so I was… you know, keeping an eye on them, not—not because of anything weird, just—I could tell he was an alpha, so…”

Now that he’s saying it all out loud, he’s sure Beomgyu is silently seething over Yeonjun thinking he needs to be watched over. Exactly like that guy accused him of doing. And he was right, Yeonjun was watching over him, but not in a creepy way.

“Sorry, let me interrupt and ask—” The doctor glances down at his clipboard. “Do you believe it was you who made these decisions, or something that you wouldn’t consider being yourself?”

“I mean, this—me keeping an eye on him—that was just me.” Yeonjun licks his chapped lips. “But I would do that for Kai too. Or even Soobin or Taehyun, if I thought they were being threatened—”

“Why did you perceive him as threatening in the first place?”

Good question. Why did he perceive him as threatening? The main reason is that it was Beomgyu he was flirting with, first and foremost.

“... He was an alpha,” Yeonjun says, slowly. “And he just looked… he was obviously flirting with Beomgyu, and I didn’t trust him.”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, but Yeonjun knows what alphas are like. What body language they display when they’re interested in somebody. Yeonjun has spent the past three years watching it happen right before his eyes, because music shows are a hub for idols flirting.

“And I was right, so,” Yeonjun hurries to say. “My instinct was right.”

“Mm. We can’t know that for sure, but continue.”

Irritated, Yeonjun grinds his teeth. “So… I was talking to Kai. And okay, even if I was monitoring them, I wasn’t going to like—I didn’t intend to do anything until he touched Beomgyu. It’s only because he thought it was okay to put his hands on him that I did anything.”

“And so your first instinct was to punch him? Why?”

Yeah, punching him might’ve been a bit much, but acting like Yeonjun was out of line for wanting to protect Beomgyu is ridiculous. It’s true that he had no idea what that alpha’s intentions were. Which is why he assumed the worst. Regardless of if they were pure, he shouldn’t have acted like a fucking creep if he didn’t want Yeonjun to act out.

He can’t help how snappish he sounds as he answers, “Because we’re mated, what do you think—”

“So you watched him because you two are bonded?” the doctor interrupts, evidently getting the answer he wanted.

Fuck. Did he say that? But that’s not what—he didn’t mean it like that. That makes it sound like it’s possessive or something. It’s not. It’s not possessive, it’s about protecting him because it’s his responsibility, and…

Maybe it is a little possessive. He runs his fingers through his hair. His brain feels like soup right now, thick and impenetrable to him. Overthinking it is making it worse, too.

The doctor sighs, setting his clipboard onto his lap. “Yeonjun-ssi,” he says, in a tone that has Yeonjun holding back his own sigh. He hates being treated like a kid by all these doctors. “It’s perfectly normal to have intrusive thoughts about someone you’re bonded to. You don’t need to make up excuses. I want to know your honest thoughts on what happened. Denying your own feelings will only make things worse.”

This is basically couples therapy.

“Okay,” he says, neutrally.

He knows that. He knows all this shit. Everything they tell him, of course he knows. He’s the one experiencing it. But if he says it out loud, in front of Beomgyu—what is Beomgyu going to think of him? That he’s some feral alpha watching him twenty-four seven because he thinks he has some kind of claim on him?

That’s not an inaccurate description, but it’s not the whole truth either. It’s more than that. He doesn’t know how to explain it, it just is.

“Can you tell us what was running through your mind when you saw him touch Beomgyu-ssi?”

Yeonjun winces. There’s really no putting this without making him seem insane, is there? He drums his fingers against his arm, pursing his lips and speaking quietly, “I wasn’t really thinking of anything. Just… that he was in danger and that I had to do something.”

“And Beomgyu-ssi?”

“Um.” Beomgyu bites his lower lip in thought. “I was mostly just wondering why he was acting so weird. Not… I didn’t have much time to think about anything else.”

“Do we get to know what’s going on yet? They said my hormone levels are fu—messed up.”

“Indeed. Looking at your test results from a week and a half ago, things have changed drastically. Which, normally, would be a sign of the medication you’re on working, but the changes are excessive and not necessarily in the direction we want.” The doctor flips through the papers stuck to his clipboard, eyes roaming over the printed words. “Beomgyu-ssi told me you guys haven’t been consummating your bond.”

Beomgyu chokes and Yeonjun’s life flashes before his eyes. “I—What?”

Consummating. Consummating, as in—

“Let me clarify, I don’t mean consummating through sexual intercourse, but there other ways you can strengthen it. Understandably, your inner alpha isn’t pleased by everything going on inside your body. Your reaction was most likely due to that anxiety boiling over because of your bond not being enforced. You guys haven’t been scenting each other?”

“Uh...” Yeonjun eyes flicker between their manager and the doctor, waiting to see if one clarifies, but neither of them speak up. “Are we supposed to?”

“Of course you are.” Their manager runs the heel of his palm against his forehead. “We did say that you guys needed to satisfy the bond, else things would get worse.”

“I thought ‘things would get worse either way’,” Beomgyu says, using air quotes to mimic their manager’s voice. “Regardless of what we do.”

“Just because it’ll be bad no matter what doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take steps to minimise the damage,” their manager clarifies.

Whether it’s miscommunication or management backtracking on their own words, Yeonjun is getting sick of them not being clear with what they want. Why does everybody expect him and Beomgyu to know everything already? It’s frustrating and embarrassing to be in the dark and get treated like children.

He steadies his breathing. Getting angry over it isn’t helpful. And it’ll just make Beomgyu nervous. He needs to stay level-headed.

Taehyun was right; the Yeonjun who punched someone wasn’t him. He’s the eldest. He has to act like it.

Yeonjun forces each word out as neutrally as possible, “I thought the whole point of all these shots we’re giving ourselves is that we can’t create pheromones. So wouldn’t scenting be worthless?”

“Pheromones aren’t the only way to satisfy a bond. Physical proximity works too,” the doctor answers.

“We’ve literally spent every moment of every day together,” Yeonjun points out. If physical proximity was enough to control these symptoms, Yeonjun would be living in total bliss. They haven’t been apart for more than an hour in days.

“But in what context? You’re not just satisfying your basic human urge, you’re trying to satisfy your alpha that thinks this omega is yours.”

At this point, Yeonjun would almost rather they just knock him out and perform surgery or something.

“You have to trick your alpha into thinking that the touch you’re receiving reinforces your bond even without the presence of pheromones. That’s why scenting works so well. Societally, we’re all aware we only scent those we’re close to. Not secreting pheromones is a nonfactor in this case. Cuddling works as well—snuggling under the same blanket.”

Yeonjun wants to laugh over hearing the words cuddling and snuggling coming from a doctor, but he doesn’t have the energy.

“So, basically, we’re supposed to act like a couple?”

“Not at all,” their manager interjects. “But you can do a little more than you normally would as coworkers. You should. Doctor’s orders, right?”

The doctor nods in response. “Naturally, your bodies are being thrown into a turmoil from being unable to process any pheromones. It’s up to you two to minimize that damage.”

Great. Now he has company-mandated cuddling sessions with Beomgyu. Could this situation get any worse? Not that Yeonjun minds cuddling—but cuddling once a month by choice is a lot different from ‘cuddling every night otherwise the alpha that bonded himself to you will go crazy’.

Judging by how eerily quiet Beomgyu has gone, he’s thinking the same thing.

Yeonjun glances at him out of the corner of his eye. “And if we scent each other or whatever… it’ll stop this from happening again?”

“Increased volatility is a symptom of this medication, but not to this level. So, yes. If you follow our instructions, it should decrease the symptoms. You don’t need to worry about worsening the bond so long as you take the medication. It’s a balancing game—taking the medication to remove the pheromones while doing other things to satisfy the bond. But it’s not scenting specifically. It’s any act which your body will accept as proof of your claim over him.”

Beomgyu scoffs, and Yeonjun knows it’s because of the word claim. God, Yeonjun hates that word too. He never realised until this entire ordeal just how archaic the whole idea of mating was, that for some reason society tells them that mating involves ownership.

And it’s worse to realise his own stupid inner alpha isn’t exempt from it.

Their doctor continues, ignoring Beomgyu, “You shouldn’t resist the urge to be together. You guys need to get comfortable with each other—it’s not going to lessen any time soon. You have no room for shame here. At least, since you guys live together, it shouldn’t interfere with your day-to-day life either. It’s far worse for couples who are separating and live apart. You two are lucky, all things considered.”

Yeonjun doesn’t feel very lucky, that’s for sure.

This time it’s Beomgyu who speaks up, “If this is all true, then why did only Yeonjun h… Yeonjun-ssi… get like this? Because he’s an alpha?”

“There is a common theory that alphas are predisposed to being violent, but there’s not much scientific evidence behind it.” The doctor shrugs. “More likely, it’s simply that Yeonjun-ssi has a stronger reaction to the medication. Or you just have better self-control.”

Yeonjun buries his face in his hands, while Beomgyu coughs, flustered. Did he really need to say all that? He could’ve ended it at ‘Yeonjun reacts strongly’ without the part at the end.

Their manager cuts into the awkward silence on their behalf, “Is there anything else they need to know?”

“No.” The doctor uncrosses his legs and stands up, chair screeching underneath him. “A nurse will come in a few minutes to handle Yeonjun-ssi’s discharge. More explicit instructions on what to do and expect will be in the discharge papers. And you can call back any time if you need help, or are unclear of something.”

There is a near-zero chance of that happening, but Yeonjun nods anyway. The doctor bids them goodbye, leaving them alone in the room again.

Beomgyu’s fingers dig into his lap, and Yeonjun reaches for his hand again.

Their manager grimaces, but doesn’t stop them. “Yeonjun, you can rest tomorrow, but it’s back to work by Wednesday. And you two need to be on your best behaviour by then. I don’t know how much more heat I can ward off on your guys’ behalf.”

Yeonjun expected nothing less. “I understand,” he breathes. Beomgyu’s fingers brush against his palm. “I’m sorry.”

Their manager waves his apology off. “I know. The settlement with the alpha you punched is coming out of your guys’ pay, by the way. Management’s decision, not mine.”

“Of course it is,” Yeonjun mutters. And then more quietly, “Even though it wasn’t our fault Beomgyu couldn’t sleep in the first place.”

Beomgyu elbows him in the side, hard.

Their manager graciously pretends not to hear and instead nudges open the door to the waiting room. “You three can come back in now,” he yells.

Barely a moment later, Kai is bounding into the room. He hugs Beomgyu’s chair from behind, resting his chin on the other omega’s head. Beomgyu puffs out his cheeks in irritation. “What happened? What did they say?”

“Stand down, Kai. Your invisible tail is wagging,” Taehyun says, patting Kai’s upper back until he releases Beomgyu’s chair.

“I’m not asking for gossip reasons!” Kai defends himself. “I’m worried for Yeonjun hyung.”

Soobin follows in behind them, a bottle of juice in hand. “What did they say?”

“See?” Kai switches to clinging to Soobin. “It’s not just me.”

“Taehyunnie is as curious as you two are, he just hides it better,” Beomgyu chips in. They all laugh.

Their manager quickly gets the others up to speed, recounting what the doctor said to Yeonjun and Beomgyu. They all look more concerned than anything, and for the fiftieth time Yeonjun feels terrible for making them all worry.

“So.” Their manager runs both his hands through his hair, car keys jingling from the movement. He won’t look either of them in the eye as he speaks. Yeonjun has a bad feeling about this. “One more thing.”

Their manager’s grave expression tells Yeonjun that whatever he’s about to say isn’t going to make them very happy.

“After speaking to the doctor, your parents, and the other staff…” Their manager shuts his eyes, sighing. “We’ve made the decision that you guys will need to go through your cycles before your comeback in a month and a half.”

Yeonjun’s heart drops straight into his stomach. He knows where this is going, logically, but—no. No. There’s no way this can be the only option.

He hears Kai gasp, “Oh, no.”

“... And per the doctor’s recommendation, you’ll have to spend it together. There’s no safe way we can separate you two. We’re looking into ways to make it quick and efficient with minimal contact, but we’ll go over the details later when—”

“What the fuck?” Beomgyu finally screams.

Yeonjun sinks into the bed, sighing.

When he said could this day get any worse, it wasn’t a fucking challenge.

 

The atmosphere during the ride home has never been more awkward. And that’s saying something, because it’s been plenty awkward before.

This is next level, though. More than half of them haven’t said a single word since they shut the van door.

Yeonjun and Beomgyu sit on one side of the car, and the other three sit in front of them. The maknaes keep initiating small talk with each other during the thirty-minute drive home, but it’s stilted and so obviously only to fill the silence.

Soobin taps his foot to some invisible beat, Beomgyu stares blankly out the window with no acknowledgement towards any of them, and Yeonjun attempts to distract himself by going on his phone and immediately fails when the first thing he sees is a message from his mom.

He’s not sure what he expected to happen, or how the others would react to him punching someone out then subsequently it being revealed he and Beomgyu would have to have sex for the greater good, but he didn’t think they’d all ignore him.

Regardless of if they mean for it to be, it kind of makes him feel like it’s his fault, when as far as he knows, everything the doctor said just corroborated the fact it isn’t his fault. Fuck, even Beomgyu is ignoring him, and Yeonjun knows he has a legit reason, but it still sucks.

Their group is so solid, normally. They never have things like awkward silences, or awkward moments in general. Out of all of them, Beomgyu is the one most likely to keep the conversation uplifted, too—so him being dead silent makes it especially terrible, like a giant neon sign saying that things are wrong.

“I don’t want to go out tomorrow,” Kai whines from the other side of the van, stretching out his absurdly long legs and hitting both Yeonjun and Beomgyu with his feet. “I’m so tired. I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

“Tough luck,” Taehyun says, albeit in the most fond way possible. “You don’t have an excuse, unlike Yeonjun hyung.”

“Quick, Taehyunnie, bite me,” Kai rapidly shakes Taehyun’s arm. Taehyun attempts to fight him off to no avail. “Mate me so we can get out of work tomorrow!”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Soobin says dryly, the first time he’s spoken the entire car ride.

Yeonjun watches Kai and Taehyun bicker out of the corner of his eye, unable to decide whether he’s irritated or fond. He’s glad they aren’t as miserable as he is, but he can’t help being jealous as well. He wishes he had the liberty to joke around about their situation.

But in the end, he’d much rather they joke it off than sulk over it. So it’s more relief than anything.

The scent suppressants they put on in the hospital have worn off by now, but Beomgyu must be consciously stopping his scent from leaking into the air, because Yeonjun can’t smell any of it when he takes a deep breath in.

If they weren’t with the other three, Yeonjun would have straight up asked Beomgyu to release it. It doesn’t matter to him how bitter it may be—he’s gotten too used to the aching comfort that comes with having that tinge of chocolate in the air to go so long without it.

Instead, he rubs Beomgyu’s arm, silently reassuring him and hopefully helping him calm down. All Beomgyu does in return is pull himself back and continue to stare out the window, ignoring them all.

As much as Yeonjun wants to be irritated by Beomgyu’s silence, he understands not knowing how to deal with all this. He himself doesn’t know how to deal with all this either. He has to, somehow, because he’s the hyung, but…

How is he supposed to look Beomgyu in the eyes now knowing that in a few months or weeks, they’ll have to have sex? It seems impossible. He knew it was a possibility, but knowing that and having it confirmed to be imminent are two wildly different things. And inducing his rut at the same time has a way bigger implication than Yeonjun sitting around petting Beomgyu’s hair while he goes through his heat.

Yeonjun is supposed to carry on with his job with the knowledge that he and Beomgyu are almost certainly going to fuck? They’re overestimating his ability to focus. That, or they still aren’t comprehending how messy the inside of Yeonjun’s brain is nowadays.

They all rush upstairs when they get to their apartment building, bidding the driver a faster-than-usual farewell. Beomgyu wordlessly takes off his shoes first, shuffling to Yeonjun’s room and subsequently slamming the door.

Kai visibly winces and Yeonjun hastily follows, relieved that Beomgyu didn’t lock the door behind him. He swings it open to find Beomgyu ripping a piece of paper out of a notebook just so he can tear it apart in anger.

“Stupid—fucking—” Beomgyu curses, hands squeezing into fists. “Fuck!” He throws a crumpled ball of paper at the wall, stomping his feet.

Yeonjun needs to stop Beomgyu’s anger in its tracks before he gets too worked up. It’s hard to pull Beomgyu out of his thoughts on a normal day, let alone a day like today.

“Gyu,” he says, reaching for him.

Beomgyu side steps him, unsurprisingly, body tense and stiff—but his face crumples from anger into sadness when he sees Yeonjun.

“Hyung,” Beomgyu says back, squeezing his eyes shut and inhaling sharply.

Fuck, every time Yeonjun gets upset over himself, all he has to do to humble himself is look at Beomgyu and remember he—not Yeonjun—is the one suffering the most from all this.

Yeonjun’s rights are being violated, but Beomgyu even more so. Yeonjun is being treated like a feral animal, but Beomgyu even more so. Yeonjun feels pressured, but Beomgyu must be even more aware of everybody’s eyes on him because that’s just what society is like. Beomgyu is an omega. Of course everybody is going to be looking at him and not Yeonjun.

For someone like Beomgyu, who has gone years without paying any attention to his status as an omega, suddenly being thrust into the centerfold of attention where the attention only stems from him being claimed must be so overwhelming.

“I’m sorry,” Yeonjun blurts out. Their pact to not apologise to each other didn’t last very long. But Yeonjun also didn’t imagine how hellish this week could possibly get when he agreed to that.

“Stop,” Beomgyu says instantly, raising his hand to cut Yeonjun off. “I’m sick of hearing that.”

“You… I promise I’ll…” Yeonjun stammers, trying to find the right words to say. Beomgyu might not want to be taken care of, but Yeonjun has to. “I’ll take care of things.”

“You shouldn’t have to take care of anything,” Beomgyu snaps. “This is stupid. Things keep getting worse and—and they’re acting like it’s our fault when it’s not!”

“I know.” Yeonjun straightens his back, running both his hands through his hair. It’s all sweaty and gross. “But if we don’t have a choice—”

“I just—How are we going to go back to normal? Honestly speaking, hyung. If we’re being realistic. How?” Beomgyu’s voice grows abruptly quieter. Yeonjun sees him swallow harshly. “Because I don’t see how we could ever.”

Yeonjun licks his lips, tongue scraping over the dry skin. It’s all peeled from how he’s been anxiously biting it.

“I don’t know,” he admits, honestly. “I don’t think it’ll be the same. But that doesn’t mean it has to be bad.”

“How can it not be bad?” Beomgyu questions, voice rising into hysterics. “How am I supposed to look at you knowing that we’re going to—”

He snaps his mouth shut, blushing furiously. Yeonjun averts his gaze out of respect. He’s glad he’s not the only one wondering that.

Beomgyu curls his hands into fists, clutching at his sleeves, and Yeonjun hates seeing him like this. If it wasn’t for the bond, Beomgyu would never show him this side of himself. It feels wrong, like he’s seeing something he’s not supposed to.

“Gyu,” Yeonjun calls. Beomgyu makes a little pained noise, eyes downcast. Yeonjun has heard him trill more this week than in all the years they’ve known each other combined. He tries again, “Beomgyu.”

“You don’t know what to say because you know I’m right,” Beomgyu mumbles, defeated. “How are we going to stay friends after this?”

Yeonjun sighs. Just because he doesn’t know doesn’t mean Beomgyu knows either.

And while he might not know how they’ll stay friends, he’s sure that they can. It’s not an ability of whether or not they can.

As terrible as this week has been, they got through it. They’re still here talking. And Yeonjun doesn’t feel any less affectionate for Beomgyu than before. They just need to hang onto this feeling.

“Come here,” Yeonjun says.

He throws his arms open and Beomgyu stiffens, keeping still as Yeonjun steps closer and closer, up until his arms wrap around Beomgyu’s middle.

Beomgyu doesn’t hug him back but slowly, he rests his chin on Yeonjun’s shoulder. “We… there’s going to be so many people watching us. People are going to realise we’re acting weird,” he mumbles.

“You shouldn’t worry about that now,” Yeonjun says. He ruffles the back of Beomgyu’s hair. “You don’t know what it’ll be like. Who knows, they may figure out a better solution that doesn’t involve us… you know. Or at least, it may not be as bad as we think it will be. I doubt we’ll remember any of it after. Stop catastrophizing.”

Beomgyu snorts. “I never thought I’d hear those words from you.”

Yeonjun cracks a smile. “First time for everything.”

They stand there together for what feels like forever, Yeonjun listening to Beomgyu’s soft breathing and Beomgyu… who knows what Beomgyu is doing. Yeonjun can’t imagine what the inside of his brain is like right now.

If it’s anything like Yeonjun’s, it’s a mess. But having Beomgyu in his arms only serves to remind him of why he needs to stay strong. Punching someone out—it was for a good cause, but shit like that doesn’t help Beomgyu in the end. Yeonjun doesn’t want to be one of those alphas that postures to show off. He’s always hated people like that, and he knows Beomgyu does too.

No, he wants to be the kind of alpha—the kind of friend—that thinks before they act. Especially now. He’ll do better from now on.

“Do you really think things will be okay?” Beomgyu murmurs.

He sounds so young like this. Like this, the two-year age gap between them seems immense. Yeonjun squeezes him as tightly as he can.

More than anything, though, he wants to keep being someone Beomgyu can come to for comfort. Not necessarily about this—since it’s not as if their experiences have much in common, him being an alpha—but overall.

Until now, their relationship has always been them relying on each other. Losing that would be…

“I’m not saying it won’t be difficult, but.” Yeonjun swallows, sure that Beomgyu can hear how wildly his heart is beating. “I love you. You’re one of my closest friends. If we want to stay friends after this, we will. It might take effort, but we can make it work.”

He feels Beomgyu slowly exhale, then suddenly a warm, rich chocolate fills the air. It’s light underneath Yeonjun’s own scent, but Yeonjun has become too attuned to it to miss it.

He noses against the side of Beomgyu’s head, allowing his scent to relax his own tired muscles. Yeonjun gets lost in the way his whole body calms down near Beomgyu. That has to be the only benefit of all this—he doesn’t think he’s ever felt more safe and secure than when he knows Beomgyu is safe and secure.

“I really am sorry,” Yeonjun says, fingers brushing up Beomgyu’s spine. His scent is all sweet from relaxation, and it makes Yeonjun preen inside. “If I worried you, or upset you—”

“Hyung, it’s not your fault,” Beomgyu says, sighing. “This is hard on you too. It’s not only about me.”

“You didn’t punch anybody,” Yeonjun grumbles.

“I was upset because I was worried.” He leans back slightly to cup Yeonjun’s face, and Yeonjun’s cheeks instantly flare with heat. “Yeah, it was stupid, but it was the fact that you’d been struggling alone and didn’t tell anybody that pissed me off. Do you know how terrified I was when you suddenly passed out?”

Yeonjun laughs. “I can imagine.”

“Exactly.” Beomgyu scowls, pinching Yeonjun’s cheek. “I know you were trying to protect me, but I—”

“You don’t need the protection, I know.”

“Well, yes, but I was going to say that I want you to take care of yourself first.” Beomgyu’s hand drops to his shoulder.

“I’ll try,” Yeonjun assures him. He won’t succeed, but he’ll try.

Admittedly, being close to Beomgyu like this helps. He already feels like he can breathe easier, the voice in his head quieted by the sweet scent reminding him of Beomgyu’s safety and his willingness to let Yeonjun in.

“Try for me, if not for yourself,” Beomgyu says.

Yeonjun hums. He can do that. “I’ll try,” he says again, and Beomgyu—intentionally or otherwise—releases another wave of rich chocolate. Yeonjun resists greedily shoving his face against Beomgyu’s neck to get more of it from the source. “I really love your scent,” he says instead, closing his eyes.

He said the same thing yesterday—or the day before yesterday, now—but it’s true. Him saying the words is nothing comparable to how he feels, even. Not just the actual scent, but how quickly it can wash away all the tension in Yeonjun’s body. It’s like being inside of a cloud.

He can hear the smile in Beomgyu’s voice as he says, “I can tell.”

“Don’t hold it back when we’re—at least when we’re in my room. Please?” Yeonjun requests.

“I couldn’t if I tried, hyung,” Beomgyu says, laughing. “I’m… I’m glad you like it. I don’t think anybody has ever said that before.”

“Only because they haven’t had the chance,” Yeonjun says, firmly. That, he’s positive of. Could anybody in the world resist such a sweet scent? “Hasn’t Soobin?”

“Well, yeah, but that’s… that’s different,” Beomgyu huffs. “I think it only smells so good to you because of the bond. After this, it’ll just smell like any other scent.”

“Maybe,” Yeonjun agrees. “But also maybe not. You also kept saying this wouldn’t affect me at all, and now here we are—”

“A lot has changed in the past week and a half! You can’t hold that against me!” Beomgyu whines, voice cracking. Yeonjun laughs loudly. That’s the Beomgyu he knows and loves. “Hyung! Why are you laughing at me?”

“Nothing, nothing, just—you’re so cute,” Yeonjun snickers. Beomgyu squawks, jumping back, which just makes him look cuter. “It’s a compliment, Beomgyu.”

“Hmph.” Beomgyu crosses his arms, but Yeonjun can tell he’s happy inside by how his cheeks warm and his lips struggle not to quirk upwards. For the first time that day, happiness blossoms in Yeonjun’s stomach. “Thanks, hyung.”

“You’re supposed to say it back now,” Yeonjun teases him.

“No way!”

Beomgyu scurries off, moving to sit down on his mattress, across from Yeonjun’s. His phone sits on the floor, and once he’s settled underneath a blanket, he swipes it up and turns it on.

Yeonjun supposes the conversation is over, then. It feels like there should be more to say, because this is a very big thing they’re getting involved in, but he can’t actually think of anything else. They both know what’s going to happen even without discussing it out loud.

He wonders, absently, if Beomgyu is the type to nest during his heats, or if he would be fine with staying in Yeonjun’s bed the entire time.

His smile drops off his face when he registers his own thoughts, and he sighs. He shouldn’t think about that right now. It doesn’t matter what’s going to happen, he tells himself. What matters is how they deal with it. That’s all. That’s it. If they make a big deal out of it, it’ll be a big deal. If they act normal, it’ll be normal.

While their conversation ended fine, he’s suddenly feeling tired, and he moves to flick off the light switch.

“I’m going to take a nap, if that’s okay,” he says. He crawls into his own bed. “And then I’ll shower.”

He should really do it the other way around, but he’s tired, and he has to change his sheets tomorrow anyway for laundry day. He might as well rest now.

Beomgyu hums. “Do you want me to wake you up at a certain time?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just…” He yawns. “I’ll wake up in an hour or two, probably.”

“Mmkay.”

Yeonjun closes his eyes. He was being serious when he said Beomgyu’s scent makes him sleepy—it drags down his lids gently, coaxing him to drift off, lulling him into sleep like the softest blanket.

Exactly two hours later, like he said, he wakes up with his mouth full of cotton. His tongue feels swollen and dry, like he slept on it wrong. He wants to go back to sleep but he’s even stickier than before he went to bed and there’s no way he’s going to be able to fall asleep without showering.

Beomgyu’s scent has dulled, and Yeonjun can tell before he sits up that the other boy has fallen asleep. He slips onto his feet, careful not to make too much noise, and heads towards the bathroom.

He didn’t have any dreams that he can remember, but he has this weird sensation of being out of place. He manages to drag himself to the bathroom instead of giving in to the instinct telling him to crawl into bed with Beomgyu.

Yeonjun isn’t embarrassed per se of needing to be around Beomgyu, now that they know the cause, but he still doesn’t want to startle Beomgyu by cuddling him without his consent. Thankfully, the other three have all retired to their own rooms by now, so the big bathroom is free. Yeonjun double-checks that the door is locked behind him, then peels his clothes off one by one.

For the first thirty seconds, with Beomgyu’s scent still lingering underneath his nose, he feels relatively calm.

Then he sees himself naked in the mirror and remembers that Beomgyu will also see him naked soon enough, and that floaty, pleased feeling lingering from being around his mate disappears.

They’ve all seen each other naked before, but this context is wildly different than them simply getting changed backstage. And equally as importantly, he’s going to see Beomgyu naked too.

And bent over. And very wet. And likely delirious with need.

Fuck. Now that he’s better-rested, it’s beginning to sink in that they might actually have sex, and he has no idea what to do with that concept. He hopes they don’t, he hopes they can find another solution, but—but if they don’t—they are going to have to deal with it. Somehow.

Yeonjun’s vision blurs when he thinks about it too hard. It being fucking Beomgyu.

If Yeonjun is giving himself some credit, he thinks he would actually be a pretty good heat partner. He’s had sex before, which is more than most of his friends can say, so that’s a point in his favour. The bigger issue is that they want to induce his rut at the same time as Beomgyu’s heat, and Yeonjun isn’t sure he’ll be able to keep up being as careful as he wants to be if they’re both struggling with their cycles.

It’d be better if they had sex at least once before their cycles hit, so that their first time together isn’t when they’re both crazed out of their minds, but he has no idea how he would ever bring that up without sounding like a freak. Especially since it’s clear Beomgyu has no actual interest in him.

He did his best to reassure him today, and it seemed to work, but he just hates the thought of Beomgyu’s first time with an alpha being with a guy he doesn’t like, and the sex might not even be good. Or, rather, it might feel good, but emotionally—Beomgyu deserves better than whatever Yeonjun could offer him when he’s in rut.

And that stupid alpha voice in the back of his mind reminds him that he is Beomgyu’s alpha. Regardless of whether or not they meant for it to happen, he has a responsibility to take care of Beomgyu. During his heat, but also outside of it.

Beomgyu deserves to be pampered. There’s a reason why he’s so spoiled by all of them. He just has one of those personalities that makes you want to treat him delicately. Yeonjun may make fun of him a lot, but when it comes down to it, he adores him. Beomgyu is always kind to him, going out of his way to help Yeonjun with any little thing he needs—it’s only fair that Yeonjun should offer him the same. He would much rather make Beomgyu’s first time special in some way than fuck him until they both pass out and then forget about it.

God, he just said a couple of hours ago that he wasn’t going to dwell on it. It’s really fucking hard not to though, when it’s Beomgyu and Yeonjun’s brain is now full of thoughts about having sex with him and the images won’t stop coming.

He drags his nails down his face. Fuck.

Heat pools in his gut, and he doesn’t need to look down to know he’s getting hard. Fuck, he’s disgusting, getting hard over the thought of fucking one of his best friends when they aren’t together. He chalks it up to hormones or whatever, the fact Beomgyu is technically his mate, but he still feels terrible about it.

Not terrible enough to stop himself. Just enough to make it the most guilty masturbating session he’s ever had.

It’s not like he can return to his room like this, because Beomgyu will definitely be able to tell—not only from Yeonjun’s scent but because he has eyes and the tent in Yeonjun’s pants is painfully obvious.

He decides to take the less embarrassing option for both of them and grasps his cock, groaning into his fist at the pressure building in the base of his spine. It’s been weeks since he last got off.

He strokes himself slowly, and while he tries really, really hard not to think about Beomgyu specifically, it’s impossible when he’s spent all day around him and thinking about him. Even more impossible when he’s been fighting off intrusive thoughts all evening.

And honestly, it’s not a hardship to imagine what it’d be like to fuck him. Beomgyu is pretty, long limbs, broad shoulders, plush, tight muscles and bright eyes. He would look so fucking beautiful on his back, with that long hair splayed out over Yeonjun’s pillow. And his voice, so deep and buttery—he’s tickled and teased Beomgyu enough to know how high it can get before breaking, and he wonders how much he’d have to push to hear those noises while fucking him.

Not a lot. Beomgyu is sensitive in every way, emotionally and physically, and if he were in heat, Yeonjun imagines it wouldn’t take much prodding to get him to break. Even though male omegas are infertile and heats are just an annoyance, they’re still omegas. They still have the urge to roll over and be fucked and drip slick all over the sheets.

He rubs the head of his cock and pictures Beomgyu on his knees lapping at it, drinking up the little droplets of pre-cum that are currently slicking up Yeonjun’s thumb. Yeonjun despises porn, but he’s watched enough in his lifetime to have a good image of Beomgyu begging for his cum, begging for Yeonjun to empty himself inside him, tongue sticking out waiting, waiting for Yeonjun to explode and spill ropes of white all over him until he chokes on it and—

Slapping a hand over his mouth, he spills all over the bathroom floor, his cry muffled by his palm.

He’s never come so fast in his life, the image in his head fracturing when he feels his own cum, sticky on his fingers. He jolts back like he’s been burnt, wiping his hand off on his towel without thinking.

“What the fuck,” he says to himself, horrified. He stares down at his dick in betrayal. “What the fuck.”

Once he regains his breath, he groans and sinks onto the ground, burying his head in his arms. He can still hear traces of Beomgyu’s moans in his ear, his brain still running the scenario in the back of his mind, like an annoying fly that won’t go away.

He can so easily imagine what Beomgyu would sound like whimpering out Yeonjun’s name, whining out alpha long and drawn-out, rolling onto all fours and presenting himself for Yeonjun to push into.

He tries desperately to think of something else, literally anything, like work or how gross it is that he just wiped his cum on his towel, but his mind keeps going back to Beomgyu. Beomgyu, Beomgyu, Beomgyu. It’s like he’s carved out his own place in Yeonjun’s mind—which might not be so untrue, given the circumstances.

Before he knows it, he’s hard again.

He’s supposed to be acting normal. This is not normal. This is very much not normal.

He leans against the shower door, groaning into his arm. It’s just hormones. It’s normal. He won’t tell Beomgyu, obviously, but it’s also nothing to be ashamed of. He just has to deal with it himself. That’s all. That’s all.

He ends up getting off again in the shower, and this time it hurts, the friction uncomfortable to the point of pain and the mental awareness of what he’s doing weighing him down. And not in a good way.

Beomgyu is awake and on his phone again, when Yeonjun drags himself back to his room thirty minutes later, and if he can smell Yeonjun’s arousal on him, he doesn’t flinch. Yeonjun dives back underneath his sheets before Beomgyu can say anything, mumbling a proper ‘goodnight’ to him.

His own words echo in his head: If we want to stay friends after this, we will. It might take effort, but we can make it work. He meant them, he truly does, but fuck, fuck, fuck it’s going to be difficult. He isn’t mentally prepared for this.

But he has to do it, so. He squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to focus on the tap-tap of Beomgyu’s fingers across his phone screen, and does anything but think about the fact he just got off to the thought of having sex with one of his best friends.

Twice.

He is so fucked.

Notes:

guys this is the fastest i have ever updated this fic... only 3 weeks!! AND this is the longest chapter so far (10k) are you proud of me!! the sad news is the only reason i was determined to get it out is because i won't even begin writing the next update for like another 3 weeks lmao since i am going on vacation today (seeing txt in houston!!) -> when i return to canada i will have final exams -> then i have other things i need to work on both ficwise and irl... so hopefully this chapter is good enough to make up for what will inevitably be a long wait ajdjfjsadf

also i promise this is the last chapter that takes place primarily in a hospital or clinic setting LMAO. clinic arc over???

thank you for reading!! let me know what you think!! i have said this before (probably too many times atp lol) but this fic is difficult for me to write so your comments mean the world to me 👉 👈

Chapter 8: Beomgyu

How do you continue on with life knowing that you’re going to fuck one of your closest friends in the imminent future?

Beomgyu replays Yeonjun’s words about their friendship over and over in his head, but none of what he said answers that question.

He stares at the ceiling all night, and then all morning, absently mulling it over. All things considered, he’s strangely calm about it now that the only person he has to speak to is himself—being alone with his own thoughts has historically been a recipe for disaster. But that could also be it not sinking in yet. He was relatively calm for the first few days of their bond too, and then it ended up boiling over all at once.

Across the room from him, Yeonjun continues to snore softly, little wheezes from his chest as he dreams about whatever it is he’s dreaming about. Hopefully something good, which means hopefully not something related to Beomgyu. He’s glad that Yeonjun fell asleep quickly. He needs the rest.

Beomgyu needs the rest too for that matter, but the thought of sleeping makes him nauseous. He only has so much time before they need to you-know-what. Sleeping seems like a waste of time when he needs to be spending all his energy on coping with the concept of fucking one of his best friends.

He tosses and turns in his bed, tangling the sheets under his legs. The image of Yeonjun looming over him, eyes dark like in movies where an alpha goes into rut, is seared into the back of his mind. The entire picture is almost laughable. He can’t imagine Yeonjun acting like that.

Or, well, couldn’t imagine. It’s easier now, after Yeonjun lost his mind over someone touching Beomgyu. That reaction was very distinctly alpha, and thinking about it does something weird to his stomach.

Yeonjun wouldn’t be a terrible partner. Beomgyu is well aware of this. Yeonjun is so delicate with the people he cares about, from the way he always gently guides Beomgyu back into place on stage to how he rubs Soobin’s shoulders when he’s weighed down during practice. Fuck, when Yeonjun scented him before, he was so gentle with him sometimes that Beomgyu had to nag him into being more aggressive.

As much as he hates to admit it, the idea of having sex with Yeonjun isn’t actually what scares him. Not at all. Yeonjun is hot, kind, thoughtful—all the qualities Beomgyu would look for in a partner. The actual sex is the least of his worries.

It’s the aftermath that freaks him out. No matter how many scenarios he makes up in his head, people don’t fuck their friends for a reason. That’s the kind of shit that only works in movies. And while he’s doing his best to repeat Yeonjun’s words over and over in his head—if we want to stay friends after this, we will—he can’t help being nervous at the same time.

He has to trust Yeonjun. And he does. He trusts Yeonjun with his life. They’ve been friends for over six years now. That’s what he repeats to himself all night: even if it takes a few months to recover from all this, that’s a drop in the bucket compared to how long they’ve already known each other and will know each other.

Hopefully.

He blinks once and it’s time to get up. His eyes sag from lack of rest, eyelids weighed down from exhaustion, and his dark circles are going to be a bitch to cover up.

There’s still a solid hour before he technically has to get out of bed, but the chances of him falling asleep at this point are slim to none. He’s an early riser, anyway; forcing it will only fuck up his sleep schedule more than it already has.

He opts to take a hot shower instead, and the water running down his spine eases some of the tension in his head. Physically, not mentally. Everything he does now reminds him of Yeonjun even if it has nothing to do with him—one, because Yeonjun is always in the back of his mind now, but also two, because his thoughts keep drifting back to the technicalities of spending his heat with him and how much space they’re going to be forced to share.

Will Yeonjun have to shower with him? He doubts an alpha in rut would be willing to let their omega out of their sight. Fuck, he doubts he himself would be willing to let Yeonjun out of his sight. It’s not as if they’ve never showered together before, but his mind conjures up the image of him being shoved up against the wall when they’re supposed to be washing themselves, because god knows they probably won’t be able to go ten minutes without being all over each other, and…

His body is beginning to get all hot, and not from the shower. He rubs his face with his palms, sighing, the noise drowned out by the sharp sound of water hitting the tile. He needs to think about something else. Something less theoretical, so that his imagination doesn’t run wild.

The doctor at the hospital said that scenting would help ease some of the symptoms they have, whatever those symptoms are. Beomgyu doesn’t know if what he’s experiencing is a product of the bond, the side effects of the medication, or just him being himself. But it doesn’t hurt to ask if Yeonjun will do it before he leaves today. He has a legitimate medical excuse now for why he’s so clingy, so he doesn’t feel as bad about it as he would have two days ago.

The last time Yeonjun properly scented him was before all this started. Will it be different now? If the whole point is to trick his omega into feeling safe, it should. He just hopes it’s a good different and not a bad one.

But not too good. That would be worse. Just like marginally good. Slightly better than before but not enough to give him some sort of crisis.

After he manages to drag himself out of the shower, he puts on a fresh pair of casual clothes and wanders into the kitchen. Unsurprisingly, nobody is awake. Nobody ever is up at this time except Taehyun. The peace and quiet is precious to him, and he busies himself with cutting up some fruit for breakfast.

He’s gotten good at this zoning out thing. Chop, put into bowl, chop some more. The routine gives his body something to do other than stew in agitation over how Yeonjun isn’t nearby.

“G’morning,” a familiar voice slurs, breaking Beomgyu’s concentration. The knife almost slips from his hand, digging into the cutting board, and he grinds his teeth together.

“Hello,” he greets Soobin, as politely as he can muster. He doesn’t offer any more small talk. They haven’t spoken to each other in a week now, and Beomgyu doesn’t know how to lapse back into casualness without Soobin apologising. They spent all of yesterday together, trapped in the hospital waiting for Yeonjun to wake up—Soobin pacing, Beomgyu slumped in a chair in the corner—because both of them refused to leave when their manager told them to get some rest. And yet they barely exchanged more than a few polite words.

Soobin slides into the seat behind Beomgyu, drumming his fingers against the table. The noise grates Beomgyu’s ears, and he bites his tongue to stop himself from picking an unnecessary fight. The moment someone other than Yeonjun comes near him, his entire body lights up into survival mode. Especially an alpha. And despite knowing the cause, it’s not like he can just ignore it.

“So…” Soobin trails off.

“If you have something to say, just say it,” he says, pointedly slicing his apple. If Soobin thinks Beomgyu knows how to read his thoughts, he’s sorely mistaken.

Soobin sighs, so loudly that it must be purposeful, and the stool he’s sitting on creaks as he moves around. They bought those stools years ago, when they were all ten centimetres shorter. He’s honestly shocked they haven’t given out yet.

“I was going to say ‘I told you so’, but I don’t think you’d appreciate that.”

Beomgyu barks out a laugh. “You think?” He already has enough to deal with without Soobin rubbing shit in his face. He’s already accepted that he was being naïve by thinking he’d be able to avoid going into heat before they broke the bond. That’s enough punishment in itself.

“Look, I’m sorry for being an asshole,” Soobin says. Beomgyu stills and sets down the knife, staring at the cutting board as he waits for Soobin to continue. It takes a while for him to. “... And I’m sorry that I didn’t make it clear what I meant when I said I was worried for your guys’ cycles.”

“Well,” Beomgyu says, clipped. “I’m glad you know you were being an asshole.”

“Beomgyu—”

“I just hate when you act like—” Beomgyu spins around, waving towards Soobin, who honestly looks like shit. Or at least just as shitty as Beomgyu does, which on a scale from one to ten on the shit scale, is closer to a ten than a one. His skin is sunken and pale, and his lips are red and dry from how he’s been tugging at the skin.

Beomgyu has lived with him long enough to know the signs of a restless night. They’re on the same page then.

“When?” Soobin asks.

“I hate it when you act like our leader and not our friend,” Beomgyu says. Soobin has an unreadable expression on his face, eyes blank. “Acting like you know what’s best for us, or that you’re responsible for everything—when I tell you something, or when I go to you for help, I’m not asking you as my coworker. I’m asking you as my best friend. So, yeah. It irritates me when you try to act all diplomatic and formal about a situation that’s so personal. It’s like talking to a weird robot version of you, and I hate it.”

Soobin doesn’t react, and Beomgyu shoves his hands into his sweatpant pockets, kicking the floor. This is why he hates fighting with Soobin. Well, he hates it for a lot of reasons, but he hates it especially because sometimes prying out Soobin’s true feelings is the same as talking to a brick wall.

“... That’s all I have to say,” Beomgyu finishes. “So.” The silence is so much heavier than normal with all the tension, and the knowledge that an alpha that’s not his alpha’s eyes are on him makes him uneasy.

He’s about to turn back around when Soobin says, “I know you do.” In the most carefully neutral voice, completely devoid of emotion, which tells Beomgyu he’s feeling too much inside. “You guys may be able to push aside your responsibilities for a while, but I can’t do that. I don’t get that opportunity, okay? It’s my job to take care of you guys. That job never stops. I know you just want to vent and complain without me butting in, but I can’t be that person. I have to tell you guys when I’m worried about something, because if I don’t and something does end up happening, it’d be my fault for not speaking up.”

“You don’t have to,” Beomgyu mutters, though admittedly, a pang of guilt hits him at hearing Soobin’s words. He hasn’t had time to think about Soobin’s involvement in all this. To be honest, it didn’t seem that important compared to him and Yeonjun. Soobin isn’t the one with the fucked up brain chemistry right now.

“I do, though. You guys are my responsibility.” Soobin ducks his head, rubbing his closed eyelids with his hands before lifting his eyes again, frowning. “I might’ve phrased it wrong, but I think my concerns about you going into heat and him having to help you were pretty legit. We know they were legit.”

“You did phrase it wrong,” Beomgyu says, and Soobin shoots him an exasperated look, as if begging him to stop being an asshole in return for his olive branch. Yeah, that was probably unnecessary, but his chest is too tight to act normal right now. He takes a deep breath, breaking through the weight in his lungs. “I’m sorry too, for ignoring you. And for being an asshole and not giving you a chance to explain yourself.” He pauses. “And for being a dick just now.”

“Okay,” Soobin says evenly. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Beomgyu is the first to break their staring contest, but Soobin is the first to pull him in, dragging him closer for a hug by his arm. Beomgyu makes a noise of surprise as his face is suddenly shoved against Soobin’s chest. When was the last time they hugged?

Soobin’s hugs have always been his favourites. He’s warm and cuddly, like a giant lap dog, and never holds Beomgyu too tightly. But right now his arms around Beomgyu scream all wrong—too big, too sweaty, too not-Yeonjun. It makes Beomgyu feel guilty for not being appreciative and guilty on behalf of his alpha, regardless of how Yeonjun wouldn’t care.

The hairs on the back of his neck stand as a chill runs through him, and he has to count his breaths to keep himself from doing something rash like clawing Soobin off. Soobin doesn’t deserve that. He’s trying to make up for things. Beomgyu might be irritated by him, but he doesn’t want Soobin to feel worse.

“You could hug me back, you know,” Soobin mumbles into his hair.

“Sorry,” Beomgyu says, and this time he really does mean the apology. Of course Soobin wouldn’t be happy with a halfhearted hug. He forces himself to lift his arms and hug Soobin in return in what is likely the most awkward hug either of them have ever received.

Soobin pushes him back, frown deepening. “If there’s something else that you’re mad at me for—”

“It’s not that,” Beomgyu mumbles, turning his head away. “It’s just, you’re an alpha, and—”

He doesn’t need to be looking at Soobin’s face to hear the confusion in his voice. “And? You’ve never had a problem with that before. Are you that self-conscious all of the sudden?”

God, Soobin can’t be this oblivious, can he? “I didn’t mean it like that,” he says. “Yeonjun hyung hasn’t tried scenting me yet, and…” If Soobin makes him complete that sentence, he’s going to strangle him.

Not that he has any idea if Yeonjun scenting him would help alleviate some of this overarching pressure, but it’s the only way he knows how to explain this issue without directly saying being around other alphas feels like a threat.

“Oh.” Soobin scooches back onto the stool. “Sorry. I didn’t—sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Beomgyu says, an automatic reflex, then cringes at his own misleading words. That wasn’t an invitation for Soobin to hug him again. “I mean, it’s not fine. But it’s fine. It’ll be fine. Eventually.”

“I’m not like sending out, um. Pheromones or anything. I think.” Soobin sniffs his arm as if he would be able to smell them, and Beomgyu rolls his eyes.

“It has nothing to do with pheromones,” he says. He really doesn’t want to expand on the turmoil in his brain. Not only would it scare Soobin off, but he might go even more insane trying to explain something he himself doesn’t understand either. “It’s more of a mental thing. Not wanting to be around other alphas until he, you know, claims me. It’s dumb,” he ends in a small voice.

“Oh,” Soobin says, again. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Beomgyu says, again.

Fuck, this is unbearable. Soobin picks at his nails, glancing at the entryway to the hallway like he’s trying to plan an escape route. This probably wasn’t the way he expected this conversation to go. To be fair, if it was up to Beomgyu, they would already be on the couch curled under a blanket together booting up the PS5. But it’s not up to him.

“I’ll just sit over here, then,” Soobin says. He doesn’t sound particularly enthused, but Beomgyu is glad he isn’t pushing it because he has nothing to say on the matter. Not to Soobin, anyway. “What did you and Yeonjun hyung talk about after we got back?”

“Nothing, really,” Beomgyu says. Which is the truth. Nothing that would interest Soobin, certainly. He turns back around and pours the rest of the apple he was cutting into his bowl, to give himself something to do. “He was too tired to speak much. Fell asleep right after he took a shower.”

“That makes sense, but—you guys will talk about it, right? Tonight? Or eventually? You can’t keep ignoring it—”

“Yes, Soobin, we will talk about it. Believe it or not, I don’t want to go into heat unprepared any more than you want me to.” He picks up his bowl and swoops it to the other side of the table, the furthest seat away from Soobin. It feels like there’s an ocean in between them, but at least they’re holding a civil conversation now. Better than the past week.

“As long as you don’t bottle it up,” Soobin says, biting his nails. And he always snaps at Beomgyu for doing the same thing. Hypocrite. Beomgyu clicks his tongue and Soobin quickly drops his hands back onto the table. “You guys are both so quiet over this. I’m worried it’s going to happen and it’s only going to sink in then.”

“I mean, I don’t know what you expect us to do. It’s a medical treatment. We have to do it no matter how we feel about it.” There’s only so much they can prepare for or talk about. It’s not like they can plan things. An alpha and omega in the midst of their cycles—a bonded pair at that—aren’t going to be lucid enough to follow any logic. That much Beomgyu is certain of.

“A medical treatment,” Soobin echoes, shaking his head. He rests his cheek on his arms, head against the table. “Is that what he called it?”

Beomgyu shrugs. “It’s the truth.”

“That’s so—” Soobin’s nose crinkles. “Clinical.”

“It’s not like we’re in love.”

“I guess not, but…” Beomgyu knows what Soobin is going to say—something sappy about Beomgyu deserving better—and he shoots his best friend a glare. He knows all this already. He doesn’t need Soobin to rub it in his face. Thankfully, Soobin sees his plea not to continue and sighs, opting not to finish his sentence. He says instead, “Aren’t you scared?”

Beomgyu laughs dryly. Who wouldn’t be scared shitless in this situation, realistically speaking? It’s like a secret relationship times ten and they’re not in a relationship. All the burden that comes with being an idol mated to someone with none of the fun. Yeonjun must be terrified deep down too. He’s just better at compartmentalising it than Beomgyu is.

“Of course I am,” he mumbles. He shoves a tiny apple cube into his mouth. “But I’m mostly scared for what will come after.”

Soobin hums knowingly. As their leader, he must have thought a lot about it as well. And he must not have much to show for it, because all he says is, “Me too.” No reassurances. Soobin isn’t a liar, when it comes down to it.

The crunch of Beomgyu’s apple is so loud in his ears. “We’ll figure it out,” he says. “We’ve been through way worse as a group.”

“That’s true,” Soobin contemplates. “Are you guys going to try the scenting thing?”

“I don’t think we have a choice.” Not unless they want to get involved in another lawsuit. “Don’t want him punching someone again.”

Soobin laughs, the first smile he’s cracked since he entered the kitchen. “I don’t think my heart could take another round of that.”

“Mine either,” Yeonjun interjects. “Am I interrupting something?”

He drifts over to Beomgyu’s side, and Beomgyu has to dig his nails into his thigh to stop himself from leaning into his presence. He instantly feels a thousand times calmer though, like he’s been sweating all day and Yeonjun’s scent is a cold bucket of water. It might as well be, when it smells so much like rain.

“Not at all,” Soobin says, eyeing Beomgyu and then smiling at Yeonjun. “If you’re making coffee, make me some too.”

Yeonjun chuckles. He runs his fingers briefly through Beomgyu’s hair, like he has every morning for the past week, then drifts over the coffeemaker. “Alright, lazy ass. Gyu, do you want coffee?”

Gyu. Yeonjun has been calling him that more lately. Nobody else does except him and Soobin.

“No, thanks,” he says politely. Coffee always makes him jittery, and one thing he doesn’t need right now is more energy for his body to work itself up on. He’s already restless enough without the caffeine.

“Suit yourself,” Yeonjun says. He takes out two mugs and turns the coffee maker on. None of them speak as the machine rumbles, preparing the coffee.

Yeonjun seems to be relatively chipper this morning, all things considered. Alarmingly so, but Beomgyu does his best to push aside his paranoia. He has to trust that Yeonjun will tell him if he can’t deal with something on his own. Yeonjun is a fiercely independent person, and Beomgyu has to respect that.

He could be genuinely in a good mood. Anybody would be, after being discharged from the hospital.

“Are you feeling any better today?” Soobin asks. Beomgyu wonders if Soobin is as worried about Yeonjun as he is, or if Soobin is only being polite. Knowing Soobin, a bit of both.

“Mostly,” Yeonjun answers. “My head hurts a bit. But otherwise, I feel pretty normal?”

“Normal as in normal this week or normal normally?” Soobin is smarter than he seems.

Yeonjun laughs. “Normal this week,” he says. He leans against the countertop beside Beomgyu, coffee in hand. “I think I’ll end up sleeping most of the day while you guys are gone.”

That’s what Beomgyu would do, if he were forced to stay home. Only so that time would pass without him having to be aware of it. He was going to suggest Yeonjun occupy himself by doing work, but sleeping is a much better idea.

“We’re only going to the company, so if anything happens, we’re not far,” Soobin assures him. He hops off the stool, picking lint off his pyjama pants. “I’m gonna go get ready.”

“See you,” Yeonjun says. Beomgyu shoves a piece of fruit into his mouth so he doesn’t have to say anything out loud and gives Soobin a wave.

Once Soobin is out of sight, Beomgyu’s shoulders untense. He rolls them, stretching out his stiff neck.

Yeonjun watches him from over the rim of his mug, observing how relieved Beomgyu is that his own best friend has left the room. Beomgyu doesn’t want him to get the wrong idea. He’s annoyed at him, yes, but he’s not angry. It’s just awkward, and Beomgyu despises awkwardness. It’s not even necessarily Soobin’s fault anymore either.

“I’ll tell you later,” Beomgyu says, since he’s sure Yeonjun is expecting him to spill on what was actually a very mundane conversation. “But nothing bad happened.”

“If you say so,” Yeonjun says. He pulls his phone out and flicks it on. “Will you be okay today by yourself? I was thinking about it and I could probably tag along to the company and just hang around if I have to.”

When has Yeonjun ever gone to work and not worked? That’s like asking a fish not to swim. “If—if we could try scenting before we leave, that might be for the best. I don’t think you need to come. You should rest today,” Beomgyu says, hating how he stammers in the first half out of embarrassment.

Relax, he tells himself. Yeonjun of all people, who literally punched someone out of pure instinct, isn’t going to judge him for what he views as a medical necessity. Or putting it even more simply, the alpha who he’s bonded to isn’t going to deny him from what they both need. Scenting is supposed to help them both with the separation anxiety.

“But you can finish your coffee first,” he tacks on before Yeonjun can respond.

“Mmkay,” Yeonjun hums, taking a long sip of his coffee, lips hugging the rim of his mug. He keeps his eyes on his phone, so Beomgyu takes his own phone out and forces himself to read through his messages. None of his friends know about what’s going on still, and he’s been avoiding checking their group chat in the interim. He has no answer for when they ask how he is, because any answer he could give would reveal what’s happening. This is his entire life right now.

Besides, most of his friends are unbonded alphas. None of them would get it even if he did try to explain it. He reacts to their messages and sends stickers, but avoids saying anything proper. If he’s lucky, they’re all thinking his avoidance is because they’re beginning comeback preparations and not him actually avoiding speaking to them.

Yeonjun clears his throat. “I’m almost done with my coffee, actually,” he says. “Do you want to…”

Beomgyu’s hands suddenly grow clammy, and he wipes them on his pants, nodding. No point in delaying it. If it helps, then the embarrassment will be worth it, he repeats to himself. He would rather turn into putty in Yeonjun’s arms than deal with the painful itch of being apart all day.

Yeonjun nods back, setting his mug down in the sink before turning on his heel and leaving for his room. Beomgyu breathes in steadily and then follows, quietly locking Yeonjun’s bedroom door behind him.

“We can do it here. My bed is comfier,” Yeonjun says, and points towards his mattress. Beomgyu sits down, legs pressed together, with enough room at his side for Yeonjun to sit next to him.

He can’t remember how they used to do this. More casually, that’s for sure. It made him so sleepy that after a while he started zoning out whenever Yeonjun scented him, to the point where he could shut his eyes and not care about what Yeonjun was doing to him physically. Maybe that should’ve been a sign that something was forming between them. He was never comfortable with intimacy like that before. He should’ve known it was fucking up his brain somehow.

The bed squeaks as Yeonjun takes the spot next to him, and he reaches for Beomgyu’s hand. His thumb runs over Beomgyu’s skin and Beomgyu is painfully aware of the roughness of the pads of his fingers. The scratch rubs out an itch under Beomgyu’s skin that he wasn’t cognisant of until now.

“I can just do it a little to start with,” Yeonjun says. “Like this. So we can test how far we need to go.”

He brings Beomgyu’s wrist to his face and presses his lips to the inner part for the briefest moment before doing the same to the other. He doesn’t use his tongue, doesn’t affectionately lap at Beomgyu’s skin like he’s done before, only kisses him enough to stake a claim. It still takes Beomgyu’s breath away just because of how intensely Yeonjun watches him as he does it, gauging Beomgyu’s reaction.

His skin tingles where Yeonjun kisses and he flexes his fingers, wishing he could capture Yeonjun’s touch in his hands. It’s so light that it feels like it’s slipping between his fingers as soon as he grabs onto it. The tingle passes through his arms and dissipates into a burst of dull heat right at the base of his spine, making him shiver.

Yeonjun does his other wrist, kissing the inner part gently before pulling back, still holding onto him. Beomgyu nearly whimpers at the loss.

Yeonjun’s fingers circle around the place he kissed, fingers running back and forth like he’s trying to rub his actual scent into Beomgyu’s skin, as if it won’t all disappear the moment Beomgyu puts on a scent blocker. Beomgyu holds his breath for more, seeing Yeonjun lick his lips, tongue gliding along his bottom lip. But nothing else comes.

“That’s it?” Beomgyu asks, trying not to sound disappointed. It’s like the start of something more, not the entire thing. He isn’t sure whether to tell him that he doesn’t think it’ll work when he’s already craving more. Him daydreaming about Yeonjun doing more almost certainly means it’s a failure.

“It might work,” Yeonjun says, releasing him. Beomgyu rubs the spot where Yeonjun scented. Even if their scents were strong, what Yeonjun did wouldn’t leave much of a mark. “It’s about the mental aspect, not the physical one.”

His apprehension must show on his face, because Yeonjun quickly assures him, “If we need to do more, we can. I just thought we should start slow since I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

If anybody is overwhelmed between them, it has to be Yeonjun. Beomgyu doesn’t see what the point of starting slow is when in a few weeks they’re going to be fucking, but it’s sweet that Yeonjun is trying to be gentle with him. “We can test it today and do more later if we have to,” he says, not wanting to pressure Yeonjun into anything.

Yeonjun nods emphatically. “Right. You’ll only be gone for an hour or two, so it’s not as if you’ll have to last the whole day. It’ll be fine.”

How many times have they said that recently? They have to be the most desperate pair of broken records of all time. The way Yeonjun smiles at him really does reassure him though, and armed with the knowledge of how they can fix things, Beomgyu supposes he should start being more optimistic.

Scenting, spending his heat with Yeonjun, all this other shit they’re going through—it’ll be worth it in the end. He’s never going to take his usual scatterbrained thoughts for granted after this, that’s for sure.

 

Beomgyu is surprised to find that Yeonjun scenting him, however miniscule it may have been, helps for a while. If he were asked to explain it, he wouldn’t know how to, but Yeonjun scenting him seems to help put some of the intrusive thoughts in his head to rest.

They’re filming a series of promotional videos today, brief clips that’ll be posted on Twitter and YouTube to promote future schedules. Their head manager keeps shooting them worried looks out of the corner of his eye, and Soobin has been staring holes into Beomgyu’s back for the past thirty minutes like he’s ready to intervene should something happen. For the first hour though, Beomgyu spends more time zoned out thinking about the ghost of Yeonjun’s lips on his skin than worrying about the present.

During one of their brief water breaks, Taehyun wanders over to show him something on his phone. Beomgyu is ninety percent positive that Taehyun is only here at Soobin’s request to gauge how he is, but Beomgyu doesn’t mind. Every conversation he’s had recently has been weighed down by the situation they’re stuck in. It’s been ages since he’s joked with any of the others. And unlike earlier, he doesn’t want to run and hide when another alpha comes near him.

The thing is, at work, Yeonjun is always around. He can be on the other side of the room or in another part of the building, but he’s still always around and within reach. The only exception is when he’s at Inkigayo, though those are planned and Beomgyu isn’t involved anyway. For group schedules? Not having Yeonjun with them is like missing a limb. The loss only truly sinks in once they start filming the videos as a group and he keeps waiting for Yeonjun to speak, the space beside him uncomfortably empty.

He can tell the others are noticing the loss too—Taehyun having one less hyung to talk to, Kai lacking his partner in crime, Soobin fumbling when he turns to ask Yeonjun for help and finds no one. They have to reshoot more videos than usual because they keep stammering over the English lines that Yeonjun would normally say. Keeping up his good mood is difficult when the staff keep sending them exasperated looks. Them, but especially Beomgyu, like there’s some giant neon sign over his head making it obvious how uneasy he is.

Eventually the tingle of Yeonjun’s lips over his wrists fades as well, and that’s when he starts to really panic.

“Hyung, stop,” Kai whispers urgently into his ear, patting Beomgyu’s thigh and forcing it to still. He didn’t realise he was bouncing on his heels so much. “We’re close to being done. Just two more.”

Being scolded is one thing, being scolded by someone younger than him is another. Especially Kai of all people. He’s not exactly the type to tell others off like that. Beomgyu ducks his head, cheeks warming, and forces himself to breathe evenly.

It’s only two hours from start to finish, but by the time they’re loading themselves back into the van to go home, Beomgyu is vibrating with nervous energy. The other three give him room to shake his leg—the seat next to him stays empty. Beomgyu spends the entire ride picking at his sleeves wondering if Yeonjun is in as much turmoil as he is right now.

“Beomgyu, when we get upstairs, I need to speak to you and Yeonjun,” their manager says as they round the street corner to their apartment. Beomgyu makes an absent noise of confirmation, not really paying attention, more focused on leveraging his hand against the door handle.

The second the van comes to a halt, he throws the door open and races inside, ignoring Soobin’s strained “Beomgyu!” behind him. Fuck it, he’s not waiting for them. They’re all going to the same location anyway. Beomgyu can’t bear to wait for the elevator to come when he can be with Yeonjun one second sooner. The others have to understand that propriety isn’t on his mind right now.

He gets to their dorm before the elevator reaches the ground floor to pick the others up, and when he flings open the door, he finds Yeonjun pacing directly in front of it, pale-faced and smelling like a storm.

His head snaps up, and then he breathes a tiny sigh of relief. “Beomgyu,” he greets. “Thank fucking god.”

Thank fucking god is right.

Now that he has an excuse to feel like this, and he knows he’s not the only one, he allows himself the reprieve of nuzzling Yeonjun’s neck and savouring the earthy scent he’s beginning to associate with his mate. It’s not his fault. He’s not the one going insane. Anything embarrassing he does or thinks is on his subconscious. He’s only along for the ride.

“I’m guessing you didn’t nap?” Beomgyu asks, hushed against the curve of Yeonjun’s shoulder.

Yeonjun chuckles. “I tried, but after half an hour, I got so antsy that I couldn’t stay still.”

Beomgyu hums. It’s not good that Yeonjun didn’t get any rest, but maybe now that Beomgyu is back, he can try again. As cruel as it is to wish this feeling on someone he cares about, he doesn’t know how he would cope if Yeonjun didn’t feel the same anxiety as he did, if that little bit of scenting they did earlier was somehow enough for Yeonjun and not him. He would’ve tried to suck his own dissatisfaction up out of politeness and probably end up making everything worse. Thank god they don’t need to go down that route.

The door behind them opens again, and Yeonjun stiffens in his arms when their manager sighs. “You two…”

With great reluctance, Beomgyu releases Yeonjun. Only because their manager is here and staring holes into Beomgyu’s back. “Hi, hyung,” Yeonjun greets him, sheepishly.

“I think it’s cute,” Taehyun says.

“Cute is one word for it,” Soobin jokes. Or at least Beomgyu thinks it’s supposed to be a joke. He can’t entirely tell. Soobin gently elbows Beomgyu aside, shifting both him and Yeonjun over so that he can get to the hall closet.

“How was work?” Yeonjun asks, stepping away. Beomgyu follows and Yeonjun rests his hand on Beomgyu’s middle, patting him in reassurance.

“Boring,” Kai complains. “We missed you, hyung.”

Yeonjun laughs, and the apples of his cheeks go slightly pink. Beomgyu nips the irritation he has from seeing Yeonjun flush over another omega because, for fuck’s sake, it’s Kai. How low would he be stooping to be jealous of Kai of all people? No matter how paranoid he gets, he refuses to give into resenting any of his friends for something as silly as basic human interaction.

“I missed you guys too,” Yeonjun says. He reaches upwards to pat Kai’s head and Kai preens. Beomgyu looks away, biting his lip, and pretends to occupy himself by slipping his shoes off.

“That was the longest two hours of my life. I thought Beomgyu hyung was going to go crazy before we finished,” Taehyun groans. “Actually, scratch that. I thought I was going to go crazy from him tapping his foot nonstop.”

“Taehyun!” Beomgyu hisses, glaring at him. Taehyun shrugs, not missing a beat as he walks past them towards the kitchen. “He’s just making shit up—” he turns to Yeonjun to say, but Yeonjun is already shaking his head and laughing.

“No, I understand,” he says. His features soften when his gaze lands on Beomgyu. “I was the same way, the entire two hours you were gone.”

“See? I told you, they’re cute,” Taehyun yells from the kitchen. Beomgyu is going to strangle him later.

Actually, he would strangle him now if it wasn’t for their manager interjecting, “I need to speak to you guys for five minutes. It’ll be quick.”

Yeonjun’s expression instantly becomes somber, and he makes way for their manager to walk down the hallway. It occurs to Beomgyu that he’s stopped feeling awkward whenever he enters Yeonjun’s room, being forced to sleep here. The shittiest part is having to sleep on the floor, but that’s a small price to pay when the other option is sleeping in his own room, far away from Yeonjun.

Once the door is shut, he breathes in sharply. If there’s one thing he hopes sticks after all this, it’s the calming effect of Yeonjun’s scent, however minor. He can’t remember if he always found Yeonjun’s scent this relaxing or if it’s a recent phenomena. He doesn’t think he ever thought about Yeonjun’s scent period, before this, actually.

“How are you today?” their manager asks, addressing Yeonjun. He’s careful not to touch anything, sticking close to the doorway, phone and keys in hand.

“Ah, I’m fine, just.” Yeonjun rubs the back of his neck. “You know. Hanging in there and all as best as we can.”

Their manager offers him a small smile. “Glad to hear it. Unfortunately, I don’t have much good news for you two. We tried to delay the music video filming for the next album by a week or two to buy you some more time to, uh, mentally prepare for your cycles, but the venue and everything is booked already and they weren’t willing to rebook.” He sighs, lips pinched. “So it’s most likely that you guys will have to go through everything by the middle of next month. You’ll need a few days after your cycles to recover for the shoot on the twenty-third. That’s what the timing is based around.”

The middle of next month. That’s practically tomorrow. Blink and you miss it in the grand scheme of things. Beomgyu rubs his face with the heels of his palms.

“And it’ll be together?” Yeonjun asks. He sounds calm all things considered, but Beomgyu hears the taper at the end of his words, giving away his stress.

“That’s a given,” their manager answers. “Considering how Beomgyu was today… I don’t think I need to tell you guys of all people how you would feel being separated during your cycles.”

“You’re right. I guess I just wanted to have hope still that somehow we wouldn’t have to,” Yeonjun says, chuckling.

Beomgyu bites his tongue so hard he nearly draws blood. He has no reason to take it as an offence. Yeonjun isn’t attracted to him like that—he’s aware. Fuck, he’s a complete hypocrite because he too would gladly take the chance to not spend their cycles together if it came up, solely to spare them from the awkwardness that’ll ensue after.

But it still stings to hear Yeonjun say it out loud. A stupid, self-destructive part of his brain wants to take Yeonjun’s words and run off with them like they’re proof that his alpha hates him, that his alpha thinks he’s needy and gross and pathetic and every other insecurity he’s had this past week.

Honestly, he isn’t even completely sure if Yeonjun likes omegas or not. Beomgyu has never asked. He assumed so, but that might’ve been presumptuous of him. On second thought, Beomgyu can imagine Yeonjun not liking omegas just as much as he can imagine him liking them. It’s Yeonjun. He’s the type to do whatever he wants no matter what other people think of him. Beomgyu wouldn’t be surprised either way.

He’s lucky he’s only ever truly been attracted to alphas. He can’t picture being forced to spend his heat with someone he isn’t compatible with in the slightest. In that case, he would rather be knocked out for a week and deal with the potentially horrific health complications that come with it. He really, really hopes that Yeonjun isn’t totally unattracted to him. He wouldn’t be able to live with that guilt.

“I’m sorry. I’ll keep you guys updated if I hear any concrete dates floating around, or any other relevant info.” Their manager’s keys jingle as he crosses his arms.

“Thank you,” Yeonjun breathes. “Sorry for all the trouble.”

“Sorry,” Beomgyu repeats, lower. So many apologies going around today.

Their manager waves them off, like he always does. Probably because he doesn’t have the time or energy to say what he actually wants to say. Though they were already berated enough during the meeting they were forced into at the beginning of all this—Beomgyu is relieved their manager isn’t continuing to hold their mistakes over them.

“I’ll see you two tomorrow. Let me know if you need anything. Try to get some rest, please.” He reaches for the door. “I’m guessing you guys didn’t start scenting each other yet?”

“Ah, we actually—” Yeonjun glances at Beomgyu—for what, permission? Beomgyu blinks at him. “We actually did, but I don’t think it was enough.”

“Well, try harder for tomorrow,” their manager advises. “We’re going to be out the whole day, and I don’t want to have to worry about anybody being punched. You can call the doctor if you need help. There’s an emergency hotline as well. It’s confidential, so—”

“We will,” Yeonjun promises. He takes a step forward like he’s trying to not-so-subtly usher their manager out of the room. “Don’t worry.”

Their manager snorts. “Okay, I can take a hint. Have a good rest of the afternoon,” he bids. “Keep an eye on your emails in case something comes up.”

Yeonjun locks the door behind their manager, but neither of them move until they hear him yell to the other three that he’s leaving.

“So…” Yeonjun says. “Come here, please?”

Throwing himself at Yeonjun is the biggest comfort he’s gotten all day since he knows nobody is going to interrupt them and Yeonjun initiated it. Like a cool, soothing balm on the sore wound that is his entire body. He presses as close as he can, pushing aside all of his doubts to instead focus on the bits of Yeonjun’s scent he can catch from beneath his turtleneck.

“Only because you said please,” Beomgyu tries to joke. It mostly comes out breathless, and he sinks all his weight against Yeonjun, causing Yeonjun to topple back with him onto his bed.

The only person he’s ever really cuddled is Soobin, and still, it’s not really comparable to the way Yeonjun wraps his arm around him. Cuddling with Soobin was like attaching himself to a massive heater with no sense of personal space. Which could be good sometimes—especially when he was lonely and in need of attention and being smothered helped drive away all his intrusive thoughts—but Beomgyu gets overwhelmed easily by touch and he can’t handle too much of it at once.

In comparison, cuddling with Yeonjun is like someone laying a threadbare blanket over him. Warm enough to curl up under, not heavy enough that it’s suffocating. It makes all his muscles turn into jelly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Yeonjun laughs. He runs his fingers through Beomgyu’s hair and Beomgyu shivers. He isn’t sure what’s better to him—the knowledge that Yeonjun is as desperate as he is, or the actual physical sensation of being glued to his mate. “Today sucked. I was so bored.”

“It wasn’t like work was very exciting either,” Beomgyu huffs. Yeonjun rearranges them so that they’re sitting side by side against the headboard, Beomgyu’s legs thrown over Yeonjun’s, and like this Beomgyu can almost convince himself things are normal. It’s not that different from how they usually sit together—just different enough that he can lean into Yeonjun and take in his scent with every breath, versus the polite distance normal friends keep from each other.

“Fair enough,” Yeonjun says, smiling. “It also sucked because you weren’t here.”

Beomgyu chokes, and he has to remind himself that Yeonjun is saying that because of the bond. “You too,” he says, softly. “Because of this, but also because it didn’t feel right to not have you there.”

“I’ll remember those words for the next time you call me annoying,” Yeonjun teases, and Beomgyu laughs loudly. “I really thought that the scenting earlier would help, but the second you guys left the dorms, I realised I should’ve just scented you properly.”

Beomgyu smiles placidly at him. He doesn’t want to be like Soobin and say ‘I told you so’, because he didn’t actually tell Yeonjun anything, but—in his head he says I told you so. “Yeah, probably,” he agrees.

“We’ll try again after—I need to drink some water first,” Yeonjun says, reaching for his water bottle on the bedside table. “I got so much exercise from pacing.”

Beomgyu’s heart pounds picturing Yeonjun pacing back and forth in front of the door for two hours, jumping every time the elevator dings to their floor. It’s a strangely cute image. Like Yeonjun is his cute little alpha househusband waiting for him to come home from work. “There’s no rush,” he says. “Now that we’re together, it’s—”

“Much more bearable?”

“Yeah.” Beomgyu slumps against him. “A lot more bearable.”

“Mm.” Yeonjun unscrews the cap on his water bottle and downs half of it at once. Beomgyu can hear his gulping from where his ear rests against Yeonjun’s shoulder. “I don’t feel like I’m going to do something rash like run all the way to the company to get back to you anymore.”

Beomgyu tilts his head and squints at him. He can’t tell if Yeonjun is joking or not. “You wouldn’t do that.”

“No, but I wanted to,” Yeonjun says. He sets his water bottle on his lap. “Why? Do you think I’m lying?”

“I—no, but—” Beomgyu stammers. Pre-hospital visit, he would’ve readily said there’s no possible way Yeonjun feels a fraction of the distress he does, but… Yeonjun punched someone on his behalf. So. “It’s hard for me to imagine what you’re feeling,” he says, diplomatically.

“That’s fair,” Yeonjun hums. “I could say the same for you.”

“I thought because of the imbalance in the bond, you just didn’t care that much. But I guess I was wrong,” Beomgyu says, picking at his nails.

“I don’t know if it’s because of the bond, or because I care about you,” Yeonjun says. Beomgyu’s toes curl in something like relief. It’s nice to be appreciated on any level, but especially by someone whose opinion he’s so worried about. “Maybe it’s both. Maybe I care about you too much and that’s making it worse.”

“You can’t care about someone too much, hyung,” Beomgyu chides.

Yeonjun grins. “You’re right. Especially someone like you.” He pinches Beomgyu’s cheek and Beomgyu whines, batting his hand away. At least they’re not at the level of awkwardness where Yeonjun no longer wants to tease him. Now that would be a sign of trouble. “By the way, what did Soobin say about me earlier?”

Beomgyu snorts so hard he nearly chokes. “Is that what you’ve been worried about?” He can’t imagine Soobin hating anybody, let alone Yeonjun. Deep down, he doesn’t think there’s many people Soobin admires more than him, if any.

“No,” Yeonjun pouts. “I’m just curious.”

“He didn’t say anything bad about you, hyung. Don’t worry.”

“I didn’t think he did,” Yeonjun huffs. “I just hope he doesn’t hate me after…” He scratches his cheek, not finishing his sentence. That’s fine. Beomgyu doesn’t need him to, but he still doesn’t entirely understand what Yeonjun is getting at either.

“Hate you because of what? It’s not like he can say anything about it. Everything we’re doing is being controlled by doctors. He might be arrogant sometimes, but I don’t think he genuinely believes he knows better than them.”

“I know that! But he’s—he’s your best friend. Of course he’s going to be protective—”

“He’s your friend too, hyung.” Beomgyu scoffs. Yeonjun and Soobin were friends before Beomgyu met either of them. “If anything, he understands way more than we do that this is all a necessary evil. For the good of the group and all.”

“I guess,” Yeonjun says, gruffly.

“Hyung.” Beomgyu sits up so he can look Yeonjun in the eyes. “He’s not going to hate you. Shut up.”

“Alright, alright.” Yeonjun angles his face away from Beomgyu, but Beomgyu can see him struggling not to break out into a grin. “I get it.”

“Do you?” Beomgyu pokes him in the cheek. “I think we’re already being punished enough, so don’t punish yourself unnecessarily by making shit up in your head.”

Yeonjun’s shoulders fall and his eyes close. “Alright,” he relents, and this time he sounds like he’s being honest. “I’ll try. I just feel bad.”

“Over what?”

“Uh, everything?” Yeonjun says, opening one eye to make it clear he thinks Beomgyu is asking a stupid question.

“You’re the one who said things will be fine, hyung. You can’t feel bad. Unless you’re trying to tell me you think things won’t be fine,” Beomgyu says, gauging Yeonjun’s reactions. Yeonjun groans, cornered by Beomgyu’s words, and Beomgyu smirks. “Exactly. So either believe your own words, or we’re going to need to have a conversation about how you lied to me.”

“Okay, I get what you’re saying, but I punched somebody,” Yeonjun bemoans. “How can I not feel bad about that? Thinking about it makes me—ugh. It’s so unprofessional.”

“He was being an ass.” Beomgyu bites his lip. That didn’t necessarily warrant him being punched, but it also didn’t not warrant him being punched. “I would’ve told him off eventually. You just… sped up the process.”

Yeonjun blinks at him in disbelief, then laughs so hard he actually keels over.

“What?” Beomgyu asks.

“I just imagined you punching him,” Yeonjun says, through his laughter. He pretends to wipe tears from his eyes. “Oh my god.”

“Hey!” Beomgyu shakes his hand. “Are you saying you don’t think I could punch someone? I could’ve punched him if I wanted to! But unlike you, I use my brain.”

“Oh, really?” Yeonjun drawls. “That’s a new one.”

“Hyung!”

He crosses his arms and waits a solid minute for Yeonjun to stop laughing to himself. It wasn’t even a funny joke—but truthfully, he can’t remember the last time he heard Yeonjun genuinely laugh, and he doesn’t mind Yeonjun cracking shitty jokes on his behalf if it brings him some semblance of joy. They desperately need happiness in their lives at the moment.

His scent becomes slightly less heavy, and it reminds Beomgyu of walking into the outdoors after being stuck in his room after a long time, like getting a breath of fresh air.

“Has anybody ever told you that you make really funny expressions?” Yeonjun snickers, pointing at Beomgyu’s face. Beomgyu makes his face carefully impassive just to ruin Yeonjun’s point.

“You’ve told me that a few times, yes,” Beomgyu says, as monotonously as he can.

“It’s true, though. You’re so expressive.”

“One of us has to be.” Though to be honest, Yeonjun has become far more open with them than he was a few years ago. Beomgyu used to wonder if Yeonjun secretly hated him because it was so difficult to gauge his moods. Nowadays, he can always tell if Yeonjun is seriously annoyed with him or if he’s only playing his irritated hyung image up for laughs.

To his surprise, Yeonjun agrees. “Mhm,” he says. He takes another sip of water and then sets the bottle aside. “Do you want to try it again now? I’m feeling a bit better now. More hydrated.”

Beomgyu almost forgot why they were sitting here together in the first place—for five minutes, the voice in his head shut up. Yeonjun’s words bring it all crashing back down, but he supposes it was inevitable. It was just so nice to talk like friends again, rather than friends trapped in an unwanted bond. Nobody jokes around with him like Yeonjun does. There are so many unique facets to their relationship he wouldn’t be able to get anywhere else if he were to lose it.

“Okay,” he says. “Let’s try again.”

Yeonjun sits up as well, stretching his arms over his head and exhaling deeply. “I kind of looked it up while you guys were gone,” he admits. Beomgyu can feel the heat radiating off his cheeks. “How couples usually scent each other.”

“How responsible of you,” Beomgyu quips, but he’s secretly appreciative that Yeonjun went to the lengths to make this easier for the both of them. He’s also mildly terrified of what Yeonjun might’ve found.

“I can try doing it more, um, aggressively this time. With my lips and stuff,” Yeonjun says, cringing at his own poor choice of words. “I did it really lightly earlier. If I do more, it’ll stick for longer.” He brushes his fingers along Beomgyu’s neck. “I read that the location matters a lot too. I’ll do it over here this time. And then after, you can try doing the same to me.”

Yeonjun’s lips on his neck never made his stomach flip before, when Yeonjun was doing it to help him sleep, but remembering that same touch now has his chest all tight with anticipation. Not in a way he’s used to. And that’s without considering him scenting Yeonjun yet.

He has to get used to this. He can’t freak out every time Yeonjun does something intimate to him. They’ve learned the consequences are way worse when they don’t.

“That’s not that different from what we did before,” Beomgyu reasons. He finds himself tilting his head away from Yeonjun’s fingers instinctively, baring his neck. “So… so it’s fine with me.”

Yeonjun’s eyes snap towards his throat and Beomgyu swallows, self-conscious. The air grows thicker as Yeonjun’s scent spikes, losing all of the lightness it gained from their banter. Beomgyu tries not to show how dizzy the sudden shift makes him, but he can’t help the initial sharp intake of breath he gives when his vision blurs.

“Yeah,” Yeonjun whispers belatedly, not blinking. “Okay. Let’s try that. Uh—it’ll be easiest if you sit against the wall.”

Beomgyu nods and they swap places, his back against the headboard and Yeonjun sitting in between his legs. He feels weirdly small like this, even though Yeonjun is the same size as him. Maybe it’s the fact he’s pressed in between the wall and Yeonjun’s body. Or the fact Yeonjun hasn’t blinked once since he started looking at Beomgyu’s neck.

“Hyung?” Beomgyu prods.

Yeonjun visibly shakes himself out of his thoughts. “Sorry, it’s…” he stammers, “I just have this urge to…” He squeezes his hands into fists for effect.

If Beomgyu is supposed to know what that means, he’s at a loss. “To?”

“Bite you,” Yeonjun blurts out. He’s so red that Beomgyu can practically see the steam coming out of his ears, but he still hasn’t looked away either. “Sorry.”

“I—don’t be sorry, hyung,” Beomgyu says, hurriedly. “It’s normal.”

Yeonjun leans forward, bangs falling over his face, obscuring his eyes from Beomgyu’s view. Which might be for the best. “Let’s just get it over with,” he says, jaw tense. “I’m going in, okay?” He peels off the scent suppressing patch sitting at the base of Beomgyu’s neck and throws it somewhere on the foot of the bed.

Like ripping off a bandaid. Beomgyu doesn’t say anything, nor does he resist as Yeonjun sweeps his hair away from his neck. Beomgyu hates showing skin; it’s too exposing, and that feeling is a thousand times more amplified with Yeonjun’s stare weighing him down. He shifts uncomfortably and Yeonjun steadies him with a hand on his thigh.

“Stay still,” Yeonjun says. It’s not an order, not like the time Yeonjun accidentally commanded him, but it sinks into his bones like one. Yeonjun’s lips land right below his jaw in a delicate kiss and Beomgyu archs into him slightly. It feels like a shot of relief straight into his veins, and he has to hold himself back from moaning. Shit. Scratch any uncertainties he had; there’s no question about it, he needs this. He holds Yeonjun by his nape, gently tugging him closer, and Yeonjun hums in approval.

Yeonjun opens his mouth mid-kiss to lap at his skin, still on his throat rather than anywhere near his scent gland, and Beomgyu really does moan this time. Yeonjun shudders in response, nails digging into Beomgyu’s thigh.

Beomgyu would be smug about Yeonjun’s strong reaction if he wasn’t too busy trying to keep a tenuous grip on reality. His entire world has narrowed down to just Yeonjun’s lips moving along his neck, slow and steady.

Yeonjun takes his time moving down Beomgyu’s neck, kissing every part he can reach, and Beomgyu wonders if this is what his online research said to do. It would make sense. Real mates would spend more time on the buildup than the efficient, lazy nuzzles Yeonjun used to do in order to help Beomgyu sleep. If they weren’t on suppressants and had stronger scents, he would come out of this room smelling more like Yeonjun than himself.

After all, when people do it out of their own volition, scenting isn’t supposed to be transactional. Maybe that’s why it didn’t work as well earlier.

“God, you smell so fucking good,” Yeonjun says, like he’s in awe. “Not too sweet, just perfect.”

“You too. You smell perfect too,” Beomgyu murmurs, and he can feel Yeonjun smile in response by the little puff of air he gives.

Yeonjun’s tongue is rough and flat against Beomgyu’s skin as he moves lower and lower, closer to his collarbone. Have his lips always been so wet and full of heat? Being scented by him never felt this striking before, but it seems improbable that the bond alone would be able to make this feel so good. Maybe he’s more attracted to Yeonjun than he thought. Or maybe Yeonjun is just good at this, with those plush lips of his.

Beomgyu is torn between looking at the crown of his head and squeezing his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to watch Yeonjun take his time. He chooses to block out his vision, and then regrets it when it makes him far more aware of Yeonjun’s breathing, the rise and fall of his chest against Beomgyu’s and his tongue slowly drawing circles along the front of Beomgyu’s throat, forcing him to tip his head back.

He continues to move lower, fingers coming to tug Beomgyu’s sweater off one shoulder so he can get to where his scent is the strongest. Rationally, Beomgyu knows there’s no pheromones at play here, that that part of the subconscious dialogue between them has been completely suppressed—but he’s still literally shaking with anticipation and at this point he doesn’t think pheromones are necessary for Yeonjun to see how eager he is.

“You’re purring already,” Yeonjun says, and the rumble in Beomgyu’s chest comes to an abrupt stop. “No, it’s okay. I like it. It’s cute.”

“I don’t think that’s the word you’re supposed to use for that,” Beomgyu breathes out. He’s about to choke on his own words. The sensation of Yeonjun gripping his waist, coaxing him into continuing, is turning his brain to static. Like the inside of a cotton ball.

“Why not? It’s cute to me,” Yeonjun says, with his mouth right against Beomgyu’s skin. The warm air he lets out with every breath makes Beomgyu want to giggle and whine at the same time.

He finally presses his lips to Beomgyu’s scent gland properly and Beomgyu gasps. It was a good decision to have him lean against the wall, because he’s unable to keep himself upright any longer. His whole body melts in an instant, a wave of blissful warmth radiating from the base of his throat.

This is different. This is definitely different. He might not be able to recall what it felt like before, but he knows it wasn’t this. This makes him want to roll onto his back and present himself for Yeonjun to do whatever he wants with him. This makes him want to moan into the mattress and buck into Yeonjun’s touch.

This is inherently intimate, so much more than when Yeonjun was simply scenting him to help him sleep—and now Beomgyu gets what the doctor said about him needing to be claimed.

Being near Yeonjun and being Yeonjun’s are like night and day in terms of difference. The former takes the edge off his anxiety. The latter leaves no room for it at all.

Yeonjun’s teeth graze the damp, slightly swollen skin of his scent gland and Beomgyu has to fight back the moan threatening to escape from deep in his chest. Rational thought is quickly taking the backseat, making way for instinct. He’s not going to be able to keep up the pretense of being unaffected for very long—if his scent doesn’t give away his happiness already.

“I can’t tell anymore which thoughts are mine and which are instinctual,” Yeonjun says, all at once. His hand slips behind Beomgyu, pushing him closer slightly, fingers dragging down Beomgyu’s spine from over the thin fabric of his t-shirt. “Can I keep going?”

“Yeah,” Beomgyu says, voice shaking. He doesn’t know what keep going means, where Yeonjun intends to go, but fuck, if it’s more of whatever this is, he’ll take it. He would drown in the river that Yeonjun’s scent is making if he could. He doesn’t think his body will ever recover from the gentle grazes Yeonjun gives him, like each press of his fingers is a brand.

He once read a young adult novel that had a scene where the main characters scented each other. It wasn’t the focal point of the story, but he recalls one part distinctly—the omega craning her head for her lover to bite her neck, the word alpha spilling nonstop from her lips. In the middle of battle, when they were supposed to be fighting a war against the government or whatever. The whole thing was rather cringeworthy.

At the time, Beomgyu thought it was painfully overdramatic and romanticised. For Beomgyu, who shies away from being held down—both literally and metaphorically—the thought that the thought that he could ever enjoy being smothered is ridiculous.

But now he gets it. That heady satisfaction of his alpha slowly, slowly, pushing him into the sheets, tongue lapping at Beomgyu’s throat like he can’t get enough. It’s very much real. Beomgyu is floating and yet he’s never felt more present at the same time, so achingly aware of every single sensation. He likes being pampered like this. It makes him feel special and wanted to have Yeonjun so eager to show him off.

“Alpha,” he says, testing the waters, the word slipping out without any thought. Yeonjun’s reaction is instantaneous, his grip on the back of Beomgyu’s shirt tightening, his own chest rumbling with a purr. His scent is so overpowering it’s as if they’ve been dropped into the middle of a rainforest. The windows and doors all being closed doesn’t help.

“Beomgyu,” Yeonjun answers.

He kisses back up Beomgyu’s neck, closer and closer to his jaw and then the corner of his lips. Beomgyu doesn’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He holds onto Yeonjun’s shoulders for dear life, lips parted, waiting to see what Yeonjun will do.

“Beomgyu,” Yeonjun repeats, quieter.

Beomgyu is well aware purely from movies and books what these types of scenting sessions usually devolve into. Fuck, even that novel he read devolved into something much less practical than kissing. It’s normally couples who scent like this, after all.

But being on the other end of it in reality is another story. The fact he’s not utterly terrified says it all. His whole body is thrumming for him to melt into the sheets and stay; not a single ion is telling him to run.

Yeonjun’s lips are so close to his, barely a hair’s length away from kissing him. He’s so close that Beomgyu can taste his scent in each breath he takes. He’s so close that the spoiled omega in Beomgyu is throwing a fit asking why Yeonjun isn’t already kissing him yet.

Soobin said he wants them to be prepared. Beomgyu didn’t think there was any way they could prepare to fuck, but now that he’s halfway to melting into the sheets with Yeonjun’s lips brushing along his jaw—it’s sinking in that easing themselves into being intimate is preparation, in a sense. He would rather their first kiss not be while they’re ripping each other’s clothes off in a heat-crazed fervor.

“Keep going,” Beomgyu says, urgently. Yeonjun searches for something in his gaze, and Beomgyu does his best to convey how much he wants it with his own eyes. Fuck, does he want it. He’s almost offended Yeonjun’s lips aren’t on his yet, that Yeonjun can bear to have so much self-control while Beomgyu’s own is fraying rapidly.

“Beomgyu—”

Sensing Yeonjun’s hesitation, Beomgyu gathers up the courage to say, “It’s just instinct.”

Yeonjun could shame him so easily right now for being such a fucking stereotypically needy omega, because Beomgyu is being a stereotypically needy omega, making excuses for his alpha to shower him in affection. But Yeonjun wouldn’t make fun of him like that. He’s not that type of person. If he was, Beomgyu wouldn’t have asked.

No, he knows he’s safe here. Yeonjun looks at him unwaveringly, lower lip worried in between his teeth, concerned whether or not Beomgyu is in the right state of mind. Beomgyu reaches for his jaw, stroking his thumb over Yeonjun’s cheek, not trusting his voice to keep stable if he speaks out loud.

Sweat clings to Yeonjun’s hair, matted to his temples, and Beomgyu tucks it behind his ear for him. It’s times like this where it hits Beomgyu how fucking beautiful Yeonjun is. If they’d met outside of work, then he wouldn’t be so opposed to being with him.

“Just instinct,” Yeonjun says, and presses another kiss to the very corner of Beomgyu’s mouth. “My omega,” he says, voice gravelly and lower than Beomgyu’s ever heard it and fuck, Beomgyu can’t take this any longer. He grabs Yeonjun’s hair and tugs him closer, smashing their lips together, and they both moan.

Being able to smell Yeonjun faintly has nothing on being able to taste him. It’s like a tinge of sugar, melting on his tongue. Yeonjun’s scent is earthy and a little dull, rather demure for an alpha, and Beomgyu has never considered that it could be so sweet on his tongue. The bond is definitely doing something to rewire his brain, but he doesn’t give a fuck. It’s too good.

“Fuck,” Yeonjun curses, pushing Beomgyu fully onto the bed. Beomgyu giggles at the most inappropriate time because yeah, he understands the sentiment—only to be cut off by Yeonjun’s tongue grazing his bottom lip again. “You taste… holy shit, Beomgyu.”

“If it’s anything like how you taste to me, trust me, I know,” Beomgyu whispers, panting heavily.

He didn’t realise how winded he was until now. His head hurts like a bitch and yet he barely notices the throb over the staggering sense of satisfaction he gets from Yeonjun winding their tongues together.

God, they should have done this sooner. There’s no possible way his omega could complain about anything when they’re doing this, when Yeonjun is literally claiming him. The rush every time Yeonjun presses forward is exhilarating. It’s so much more practical than awkward wrist-scenting. Beomgyu licks into his mouth, desperate and so relaxed at the same time.

“This is messed up,” Yeonjun says, strained, against Beomgyu’s mouth. It is messed up, Beomgyu agrees; the confirmation that deep down they’re lust-driven animals motivated by instinct and the promise of safe affection. Yeonjun peppers kisses all along Beomgyu’s lips, from corner to corner, and slurs out, “You taste like you’re mine.”

He is Yeonjun’s. Whether he likes it or not, though right now he’s edging closer to liking it. “Uh-huh,” he says, dazed, and laps at the drool pooling at the corner of Yeonjun’s mouth. He thinks it’s cute, how eager Yeonjun is. It makes Beomgyu feel less insane for wanting to act the same way. “This is—this is good. This is really good.”

Beomgyu has kissed an alpha before, back when he was in high school—a girl in the year above him whose scent was like the richest shot of vanilla. He dated a beta before as well during the same period, and exchanged shy pecks with an omega trainee who got kicked out of the company shortly after. He’s no stranger to being kissed and kissing others.

But all those kisses, even the ones from an alpha, were akin to dancing above the clouds, all weightless and joyful. They were romantic and for the happiness of kissing someone he was nursing a small crush on; the sort of kisses that happened in dramas, one leg in the air, thoughts all mushy and full of love.

Never did he think about being mated or claimed, let alone the conscious act of someone biting him. He can count the number of times he’s thought about being treated like this on one hand, and most of those times were in the past week.

Yeonjun crowding him against the mattress, fingers slipping under Beomgyu’s shirt to rest on his tense belly, is the exact opposite of being up in the clouds. If simply being near Yeonjun was like being in the middle of a torrential downpour, having all his senses overtaken by him is the equivalent of being submerged head-deep into the ocean. Beomgyu wouldn’t be able to zone out even if he tried.

Yeonjun’s nails graze his stomach, as light as a feather, and he shivers like he’s been scratched.

“I love your voice,” Yeonjun says. Their noses brush as he tilts his head, kissing Beomgyu over and over, not giving him a chance to speak. He can barely breathe under the assault of Yeonjun’s lips. “It’s so deep and so fucking pretty. Have I ever told you that?”

“No,” Beomgyu exhales. “Maybe.” He can’t remember. If Yeonjun is looking for a legitimate answer, Beomgyu doesn’t have one.

“The noises you make…” Yeonjun sighs.

Beomgyu takes the opportunity when Yeonjun speaks to press his tongue in again, licking filthily into his mouth, and Yeonjun’s whine is swallowed into their kiss, by the wet noises their lips make together. Beomgyu blinks a few times, gathering what scraps of coherency he has left, and releases Yeonjun so that he can nudge him away. Yeonjun sits back, brows knitted in confusion, until Beomgyu pushes him onto his back and switches their positions so that Yeonjun is on his back, looking up at him owl-eyed.

His gaze fall to Yeonjun’s neck, covered by his turtleneck. He’s both afraid and excited for how heavy Yeonjun’s scent will get when he pulls the collar back.

“I like the noises you make,” Beomgyu says. He grabs the hem of Yeonjun’s turtleneck and pulls it down. The inhale he takes is purposeful, the outpouring of Yeonjun’s scent washing through his body from head to toe. “Alpha,” he adds, grinning cheekily, and Yeonjun’s eyes darken.

He’s a little clumsy leaning in due to lack of experience, but he does his best to copy what Yeonjun did to him. It’s easier than he expects to find Yeonjun’s scent gland, the skin red and inflamed from stimulation. Both their eyes flutter shut in bliss when he presses a kiss to it, right at the curve where Yeonjun’s neck meets his shoulder.

Beomgyu’s omega is awfully smug, feeling Yeonjun’s throat bob as Beomgyu licks a circle around the gland. His fingers twitch along Beomgyu’s body, grasping for stability, and Beomgyu giggles. Then he winds his fingers through Beomgyu’s hair instead, squeezing hard, and Beomgyu’s giggle cuts off into a whimper.

“Yeonjun hyung…”

Beomgyu leaves a lingering kiss on Yeonjun’s throat before propping himself up. He doesn’t even know what he’s calling his name for. Yeonjun looks at him with his eyes half-lidded, and while he’s staying still and pliant for Beomgyu, the tenseness of his arms betray how much he’s holding back.

It’s the same look he had on his face when he was preparing to punch that guy the other day. Feral, Beomgyu’s mind supplies. But Yeonjun still looks so fucking pretty it’s unreal, and he still has one possessive hand splayed over Beomgyu’s lower back, and Beomgyu is two seconds away from passing out. His mind is stuck in a loop of alpha, alpha, alpha.

Yeonjun’s knee digs its way in between Beomgyu’s legs, against his crotch, and a shiver ripples all the way down to his toes. He cants his hips with a gasp and something dampens the back of his boxers. Something sticky that makes the air taste like sugar and Yeonjun’s pupils suddenly dilate.

Oh, fuck.

“Hyung—” Beomgyu gasps, trying to squirm away at the same time he instinctively clamps his legs around Yeonjun’s hips. The movement jostles his bottom half, and the feeling of slick lining the inside of his boxers is unmistakable. Shit. Shit. “Hyung, wait—”

Yeonjun leaves one last nip against his throat and Beomgyu withholds a gasp, teeth digging into his lip to quiet himself. Yeonjun lifts his head to blink at him, confused, clearly trying to ground himself to Beomgyu’s command. His lashes are clumped together, cheeks flushed from their kiss and the sheer amount of heat in the room. His lips, thick and swollen, are marred by Beomgyu’s spit.

The sudden urge to grab Yeonjun by the back of his hair and shove his face against his neck again is overwhelming. The urge to guide Yeonjun’s hands lower, lower, past the hem of his stupid, suffocating pants. The absolute fucking need to get Yeonjun’s scent all over him, not only over his neck and wrists but everywhere.

More slick leaks out of him, seeping wet down his thighs. He’s shaking as he jolts away from Yeonjun, spurred into action by the discomfort. Once he moves away from Yeonjun’s immediate space and his intoxicating scent, some of the haziness sticking to all his thoughts dissipates.

Jesus, who the fuck gets so turned on from scenting and a bit of kissing? It’s not like Yeonjun popped a boner. He prays to god that Yeonjun isn’t cognisant of why it suddenly smells like a fucking chocolate factory in his room.

If this is how crazed Beomgyu gets just from them scenting each other, his heat is going to be unbearable. He climbs off the bed and onto his feet, tensing all his muscles to try to stop the flow of slick. He’s so panicked that he doesn’t care about the burning pain that shoots up his body when he bangs his knee on the side of the bed.

“What—” Yeonjun lets out an undignified noise as he’s inadvertently jostled. Beomgyu takes a step towards the door and the movement forces another trail of slick to run down his thigh, causing his pants to stick to his skin. “Beomgyu?”

The worry in Yeonjun’s voice is palpable, and some repressed, fucked up instinct inside him finds the concern hot, like it’s sexy that Yeonjun cares about him. The slick in his pants is beginning to stain the fabric and Beomgyu presses his thighs together, desperate to make it stop. He’s never gotten wet like this in his life. He needs to get the fuck out of here.

“Did I do something wrong?” Yeonjun asks, reaching for him, and Beomgyu quickly outstretches his hand to keep him away. Yeonjun’s brows press together and Beomgyu winces. He must look fucking insane right now.

“No, that’s not—sorry, I just need to pee suddenly,” he lies. “I’ll be right back.”

Yeonjun blinks up at him, stunned into silence by Beomgyu’s weird behaviour, and Beomgyu takes his lack of answer as permission to run to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him so hard it rattles the frame.

Notes:

it's my birthday on sunday! and my birthday gift to myself is updating this fic so i don't need to think about it for a few weeks LOL

every single chapter so far i've ended it with "this is the longest chapter so far" but that's because every new chapter actually is the longest chapter so far... though this one is significantly longer than the last. i really like writing make out scenes so i hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as i liked writing it heh

as always please let me know what you think!! i cannot emphasise it enough that comments truly sustain the life of this fic lmao

Chapter 9: Yeonjun

Notes:

mostly unedited - i'll return here later or tomorrow and fix stuff, sorry in advance

Yeonjun has a problem.

Well, honestly, Yeonjun has a lot of problems. He has more problems at this very moment than he’s had in his entire life. He has so many problems that facing even one of them feels daunting, because it means he needs to start thinking about the next problem too. When faced with a seemingly endless list of issues, it’s much easier to ignore them.

Unfortunately, he can’t ignore these ones. Most of his problems start with Beomgyu, and Yeonjun would die if he were to ignore him right now. Literally.

In fact, his current problem—the biggest, scariest, and most pertinent one—relates to the very fact that Yeonjun is unable to ignore him. No matter what Yeonjun is doing, no matter if he’s in bed or at work or in the shower or in the middle of a photoshoot, Yeonjun can’t get Beomgyu out of his head.

That’s not entirely unusual. There’s a space in Yeonjun’s brain practically reserved for his fellow members and their personal relationships.

But having Beomgyu take up so much of his thoughts, all the time—that’s not normal.

And certainly neither are the type of thoughts he’s having about Beomgyu.

Since he and Beomgyu began making out slash scenting each other in a way that is decidedly not platonic, the fog which unknowingly settled over Yeonjun’s brain has mostly disappeared. It makes him cringe to look back at the previous two weeks of his life and realise how unhinged he was acting, both towards Beomgyu and everyone else.

Except the improved critical thinking skills means Yeonjun needs to actually face his own thoughts, the thoughts that exist separate from his instincts, and it sucks. Living in ignorant bliss where his brain was too busy whining about not being close to Beomgyu was far easier than having those urges satiated, even if it is physically better now that they can stand to be apart.

He’s an addict. He’s addicted to Beomgyu. There’s no other way to put it. His heart leaps out of his chest every time he sees Beomgyu, and he’s overtaken with such a strong urge to kiss him silly that just yesterday he accidentally cut his own palms open with his nails while clenching his fists in an attempt to ground himself.

It’s not the urge to scent Beomgyu or keep him safe or even to possess him in a way he could blame on their bond. It’s pure, unadulterated desperation just for Beomgyu’s body, for his pretty lips and the noises he bites back whenever Yeonjun bites his collarbones. He counts the dots on his ceiling in the middle of the night, separating each beat with a new image of Beomgyu splayed out on his bed.

And the images aren’t imaginary. They’re real memories pulled from his actual mind of the handful of scenting sessions they’ve had since Yeonjun was in the hospital, each of them achingly precious to Yeonjun. He forms a new core memory every time they kiss.

Maybe it is just instinct. Maybe everything that’s happened has forced some long-repressed physical attraction to the surface born of their supposed compatibility to each other.

But everything in his brain has calmed except his need for Beomgyu, and that has him doubting himself. For all other intents and purposes, the combination of medication and scenting has dulled the symptoms into near-nothing. Every symptom except how he can’t stop picturing Beomgyu bent over Yeonjun’s bed.

Which makes Yeonjun think it’s not a symptom. It’s just him.

As one might imagine, since he’s incapable of ignoring Beomgyu, this is a major issue. And thus—the problem.

He takes his wins where he can, though, and reminds himself on loop of how much worse it could be. Beomgyu is still seemingly unaware of the turmoil in Yeonjun’s brain, and it’s easy for Yeonjun to pass off his constant distraction as him warding off his inner alpha.

Yeonjun panicked over Beomgyu being able to read his mind somehow, through his scent or simply because he can’t control his bedroom eyes, especially when the first few times they quote-unquote scented each other Beomgyu ran off the moment they finished like he’d just been burnt.

But he’s since calmed down, so Yeonjun chalks it up to him having been understandably weirded out by how much he loves being scented and held by Yeonjun. Now he just zones out, all cute and pliant, until Yeonjun deems them finished. Yeonjun envies him.

The difference between them is that Beomgyu’s desperation is normal for a bonded omega. They were told time and time again that Beomgyu’s omega would demand affection and attention.

And if Beomgyu, who’s supposed to be getting the worse end of the stick, is happy with light petting and making out—why isn’t Yeonjun satisfied?

Naturally, he feels horrible about his daydreaming. The possessiveness was bad enough. The inability to be further than steps away from Beomgyu was worse. But having unrelenting dirty thoughts towards him is the worst of the worst things Yeonjun could be doing.

Not only is he having intrusive thoughts about his coworker, a close friend that trusts him beyond measure—he’s also stoking those own thoughts in his mind. All over something Beomgyu didn’t want or choose.

Yeonjun’s daily routine has become getting off in the shower then feeling guilty about it. But the guilt doesn’t stop him from doing it again, and again, and again.

At this point, he fears nothing could stop his thirst. It feels unquenchable. Every time he kisses Beomgyu, it gets worse. It becomes harder and harder not to bite his neck instead of his collarbone. It’s unbearable to have to slink away from him when they’re finished to get off in the shower instead of all over Beomgyu.

Yeonjun is terrified of how he’ll become during their cycles. His self-control is already tearing at the seams. His rut aside, when he sees Beomgyu in heat, legs spread, mouth open, his name falling off Beomgyu’s tongue—

Lying on the couch, eyes shut and breathing unsteady, Yeonjun shivers despite the room being too warm.

Yeah. He definitely has a problem.

He’s known Beomgyu for almost five years now, and he can count the times on one hand he thought of him as a potential partner before this. But now that the floodgates of his imagination have been opened… Yeonjun told Beomgyu that he thought things would be okay, but it seems like it’ll be impossible to come back from this.

Beomgyu is attractive, and Yeonjun can’t unsee it. Maybe it’s the natural progression of growing up alongside somebody—you never register them as being hot until they become hot.

And once you’ve reached that level of enlightenment, there’s no turning back.

This is all ignoring the biological pull Yeonjun will undoubtedly have towards him during their cycles.

It’s been a long time since Yeonjun went through a rut, but his mind was already consumed by fuck, claim, breed. To have an omega around, one that he feels directly responsible for—a part of him is excited. A bigger part of him is scared.

However, despite his perverted inner turmoil slowly consuming him from the inside out, he’s so far been able to hide his thoughts from Beomgyu, and that’s what matters.

So long as they get through this and break the bond safely, Yeonjun can deal with the rest later. The immediate future is what he should be focusing on.

And if he’s lucky, the moment their bond breaks, his attraction to Beomgyu will disappear. He doesn’t think his thoughts are from the bond, but… he can always hope.

At the very least, it’s not unreasonable to say Beomgyu is only on his mind so much because of the bond. His attraction to Beomgyu might be very real, but the inclination to keep this going even after the bond breaks might not be.

Once they’re separated, Yeonjun just needs to find somebody else to fixate on—and with no bond tying Yeonjun’s thoughts to Beomgyu, he should be able to move on.

Should. But again, that’s still weeks if not months away, so for now, he does what he’s been doing every day for the past week and bites his fist in the shower so nobody hears him get off.

It’s the same shit he did when they were trainees sharing the same dorm room, before they had the privacy of their own rooms.

Back to the basics.

He swears that by the time their cycles come around, his dick is going to have chafed off from how hard he’s been going at it lately. If the others have noticed Yeonjun has switched from taking long baths to multiple bite-sized showers throughout the day, none of them have spoken up about it.

Then again—they’ve barely been speaking to Yeonjun in general, so. While as far as he’s aware, none of them know how far Beomgyu and him have taken the concept of scenting, he also wouldn’t be surprised to find out they did. He wouldn’t know. He’s spent more time in his own head these past few weeks than with all the others combined.

His second shower of the day comes to a dismal end, with his cock still half-hard and his temples throbbing from stress. He would almost rather live with the separation anxiety from before than his newfound awareness of how attractive Beomgyu is.

Almost. Not quite, but it getting near that level at all is alarming. Because the separation anxiety was rough.

Still, it’s a relief to be able to wander around the apartment or go to the company without having to worry about Beomgyu getting upset without him. Scenting each other every two days seems to be working out fine; Beomgyu hasn’t complained about the frequency.

Somewhere in the middle of the second day Yeonjun always gets antsy, that now-familiar nervousness creeping back up his spine, but he doesn’t want to pressure Beomgyu into scenting more often than he’s comfortable with. He can reign in the urge for a little while for Beomgyu’s sake. It’s not even half as bad as before—if he could go a week before losing it and punching somebody, he can go half a day or two before scenting Beomgyu again.

It’s been two days since Yeonjun last made out with, and therefore scented, Beomgyu, and that feeling is yet again resurfacing. Beomgyu, however, has been on the phone with his parents in their shared room for the past few hours, and Yeonjun can’t bring himself to tell him to go away.

He almost questioned why Beomgyu stayed in his room and not his own just to hold a conversation over the phone, but then he took a deep breath and registered his own scent clinging to all the furniture.

Of course Beomgyu wants to stay in Yeonjun’s room as much as possible, when his scent is all over it. Yeonjun would be unnecessarily cruel to kick him out for no particular reason, and he would just be a bad friend to ask him to get off the phone so they can scent each other.

Nope. Yeonjun is strong. Yeonjun is strong, and therefore has been sitting on the couch for the past hour meditating in order to keep his mind carefully free of intrusive thoughts.

Or at least he’s trying to. He’s not exactly succeeding, not when every thought he has revolves around Beomgyu and scenting him and kissing him and more. But god is he trying his best.

He should’ve known that Taehyun would notice something was up. Taehyun notices everything. He’s probably the most perceptive person Yeonjun knows—plus, he’s the person Yeonjun casually hangs out with the most.

Normally, not recently.

Taehyun just doesn’t act on his observations most of the time because he prefers not to intrude on people’s personal lives, or so that’s what he claims.

It says a lot about how standoffish and intimidating Yeonjun has been recently that Taehyun of all people is the first to force him to fess up.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Taehyun says out of nowhere. He comes out of his room without fanfare, a light jacket hanging over his shoulders and a pair of sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

From beyond the dark shades masking his eyes, Yeonjun can feel his unimpressed stare, even if he can’t see it.

The apartment has been getting suffocating with its silence and Beomgyu’s scent wafting from Yeonjun’s room, but that doesn’t mean he wants to go for a walk either. His legs are sore from working out in the morning and then dancing all day, and he’s reasonably cosy on the couch under a heap of blankets. “No th—”

“We’re going for a walk, hyung,” Taehyun says, not giving Yeonjun a chance to finish his sentence. He throws Yeonjun’s jacket at his face; the zipper almost cuts his fucking eye.

“Jesus, Taehyun,” Yeonjun mutters. He pulls his jacket off his face and glares at him. “You can’t go for a walk by yourself?”

“No, I need a chaperone,” Taehyun deadpans. “So come on. Stop being lazy.”

Yeonjun fixes him with a glare, but Taehyun doesn’t back down. He stands with his arms crossed, the perfect picture of determination, and it wears Yeonjun’s defenses down considerably. He doesn’t want to get into a fight today, especially not with Taehyun. They don’t fight often and he doesn’t need that extra weight on his shoulders right now.

“Fine,” he grumbles. He goes to the closet and grabs his other jacket solely as a subtle jab towards Taehyun’s taste in fashion and to be difficult. “Not for long, though.”

“Not for long,” Taehyun agrees. “I just want to talk.”

Yeonjun raises a brow at him. Taehyun grabs his keys off the shelf and shoves them into his pocket instead of elaborating. It’s awfully suspicious.

He slips on his jacket with a marginal sense of dread and grabs his own keys just in case, shoving them in one pocket and his phone into the other. Taehyun unlocks the door and gestures for Yeonjun to go first. He does so obediently.

Taehyun doesn’t speak the elevator ride down to the ground floor, so neither does Yeonjun. It’s been… a while since they last had a real non-work related conversation, to say the least. Yeonjun doesn’t know what to say, and moreover, he doesn’t know what Taehyun expects him to say.

Being around other alphas sucks right now. Being around anybody that isn’t Beomgyu sucks right now. Yeonjun feels like an animal clothed in a human suit, trying to pass himself off as being normal and slowly but surely failing at every corner. He’s never felt so out of place before. He’s normally the one setting the standard.

Taehyun stops once they exit their apartment building. There’s a fan lingering nearby, camera in hand. Taehyun pretends not to see them so Yeonjun does as well.

It might be good for someone to get pictures of them and post it online. Beomgyu has been worried their awkwardness as a group will bleed into everything they film. Being snapped with Taehyun will lessen any rumours about them having a feud.

Not that Yeonjun is feuding with any of them. But who knows what the fans will think when they see them all avoiding each other’s gazes.

“Where should we walk to?” Taehyun asks.

“You’re the one who wanted to take one.” Yeonjun sighs. “You didn’t think of where to go?”

“Nope,” Taehyun says, drawing the word out. “I just wanted to get out of the apartment. When was the last time you got fresh air just for the sake of it?”

Yeonjun snorts. There has to be a deeper motive here, but he answers seriously, “Two weeks ago.”

“Exactly. Let’s just walk around the block a few times or something.” Taehyun jogs in place. “Get some exercise.”

“We danced for five hours today, does that not count as—”

Taehyun turns on his heel before Yeonjun even finishes. All Yeonjun can do is shake his head and follow.

They walk side-by-side, pace slow and steady. Yeonjun finds a rock on the side of the road and kicks it along with them to give his eyes something to focus on. There’s barely anybody on the streets, but he doesn’t want to accidentally make eye contact with someone.

After they cross the first intersection, Taehyun speaks up again, “So, how are you?”

Yeonjun opts not to answer that question for both their sakes. “Just get to the chase, Taehyunnie.”

Even without looking at Taehyun’s expression, Yeonjun can tell he’s unamused by the tone of his voice, “There is no chase, hyung. I’m just asking how you are.”

“... I don’t know how to answer. I’m fine. You’d know if something was wrong.”

“Would I?” Taehyun hums. “It feels like forever since we last spoke.”

“Well, nobody has been very talkative recently,” Yeonjun laughs, without humour. “Especially not to me.” He can count on one hand the amount of group conversations they’ve had while in their apartment, the five of them. And most of those have been about work.

It’s like there’s a giant neon sign hanging over them reminding them of all the things they have to worry about, and that completely crushes any chance at a real conversation.

“I get that. It is awkward,” Taehyun says. “But I’m still worried for you two.”

“Don’t be. There’s nothing you guys can do. It’s probably better if you keep your distance.”

“Maybe,” Taehyun says. “I miss you guys, though. And I don’t like not knowing what’s going on. Yeah, it’s none of our business, technically, but it’s concerning to me that you guys won’t talk to anybody about it. It’s a lot to handle on your own.”

“You’re telling that to me?” He doesn’t need the reminder.

They reach the next intersection and come to a stop. An old lady teeters next to them and Yeonjun takes a step closer to Taehyun, keeping his voice hushed. His body spikes in alarm when his shoulder brushes Taehyun’s, but Taehyun doesn’t react at all.

“I know you don’t need me to tell you that it’s a big deal. But if you know that, you should also know that keeping it all bottled up isn’t helpful.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Yeonjun lies through his teeth. “We’re fine. It’s a lot easier now that we’ve started scenting each other. No more headaches and shit.”

If Yeonjun revealed all of his inner thoughts to Taehyun, the other alpha would run straight to their manager and reveal Yeonjun needs to be locked up for the remainder of his and Beomgyu’s bond. Or even worse, he could go to Soobin and Yeonjun would have to sign his will.

No, he absolutely cannot tell Taehyun how badly he wants to bend their mutual friend and coworker over a table and knot him. But he does get Taehyun’s sentiment. In any other situation, he would agree.

He rolls his shoulders back and winces at the crack his stiff bones give. He’s constantly tense nowadays.

“That’s good,” Taehyun says.

“As I said, if something was wrong, I think you guys would be able to tell. He’s an open book when he’s upset.”

“Mm, true.” Taehyun grabs Yeonjun’s sleeve and drags him across the street, speedwalking so they’re out of earshot of the old lady trailing them. “But I meant more along the lines of you guys together. Not separately.”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business, Taehyunnie.” Yeonjun wrenches his arm from Taehyun’s grasp, grinding his teeth together.

“Of course it is. If you guys get weird, it affects all of us.” Taehyun angles his body towards him as they walk, arms crossed. “Like, is your friendship still alright?”

“What?” Yeonjun yelps. “Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know. But I wouldn’t be surprised either way. I think we all expect you guys to not want to spend time together after this. I imagine it’s pretty awkward to be suddenly thrust into something like this out of nowhere. At least, it would be for me. Forced intimacy doesn’t sound fun.”

Taehyun seems to think Yeonjun and Beomgyu are wallowing in misery, being forced to spend so much time together—and in a sense Yeonjun is miserable, but not for the reason Taehyun thinks.

If only that was the case. Disgust would probably be easier to come to terms with. That he could blame on biology alone.

“It’s not,” Yeonjun agrees. He wouldn’t wish this on his worst enemy. “But him and I—we’re in the same situation, so. We understand that’s a necessary evil.”

“I just don’t want it to affect you guys after,” Taehyjn says. He slips his sunglasses off, and Yeonjun hurriedly adverts his gaze, avoiding eye contact. Taehyun has eyes that can see through anything. “Which I know is a lot to ask for, but it’d make me really sad to see you guys drift apart because of this.”

Yeonjun shakes his head. It would make him sad too. It would make him far more sad than it could ever make Taehyun.

“That’s more up to him than me, but—at least, so far—we’re fine,” he mumbles. He’s not sure how true his own words are, but he wants to believe them.

Deep down, he’s worried that he’s the one that’s going to fuck things up, not Beomgyu. As far as he knows, Beomgyu isn’t battling the urge to tackle Yeonjun against the bed every time their eyes meet. That already puts him in a better place than Yeonjun.

But he can’t think about it too hard or it’ll upset him more, like a self-fulfilling prophecy. He has to stay calm. He told Beomgyu he would figure this out for them.

“So nothing has changed?” Taehyun asks.

“... I didn’t say that.” Yeonjun scowls. He doesn’t need Taehyun twisting his words. “Just that it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Mm, you know, the more you tell somebody not to worry, the more they probably will.” Taehyun throws his arms behind his head, stretching out. A girl walking past nearly trips watching him. If Yeonjun was in a better mood, he would have laughed.

“Well, try not to. It’s a waste of energy.”

“I hope being bonded like this will bring you guys closer in the end.”

That’s what Yeonjun has been banking on. But he doesn’t need Taehyun pondering it, or anybody else for that matter. Because the more the others look into it, the more Yeonjun fears they’ll see right through him.

And that would be bad. But what would be even worse is for Beomgyu to find out about the thoughts Yeonjun is battling with. He can explain himself to their friends if need be, but he doesn’t know if he could look Beomgyu in the eyes and tell him how badly he wants to knot him. Not without dying.

“I wasn’t aware you were so invested in our relationship. Should I be flattered?” he deflects cattily.

It’s a shitty attempt at switching topics. Unsurprisingly, Taehyun doesn’t take the bait.

“I am invested,” the other alpha says, entirely serious. “Don’t lash out at me for what I’m about to say, okay?”

Yeonjun knew there was something Taehyun was thinking about specifically. Taehyun has thoughts on everything. His brain can’t contain them all. Yeonjun would be more surprised if he didn’t have commentary.

“No promises,” Yeonjun says.

“Here.” Taehyun suddenly swerves left. “Let’s sit down.”

Their neighbourhood park is empty, only an elderly lady with a stroller sitting on one of the benches on the other end. But Yeonjun didn’t intend to spend more than half an hour outside of the apartment.

“What happened to exercise?”

“I decided my legs hurt,” Taehyun drawls. He slips onto one of the swings, kicking his feet out. His blatant casualness miffs Yeonjun. But at the same time he can’t leave Taehyun here by himself, and he can’t start an argument.

Taehyun gestures towards the swing beside him. Yeonjun’s shoulders slump and he takes the spot. He’s already lost.

Whatever. He’s proving to himself that he can spend time apart from Beomgyu without issue. He can hold mature conversations without getting upset. He doesn’t want to talk, but knowing Taehyun, he’s not going to give up until he gets an answer.

“I won’t get mad, whatever it is,” Yeonjun says, holding onto the chains attached to the swing. “Or… I’ll try not to.”

“I know you won’t, hyung.” Taehyun purses his lips. “I was going to say that I found it interesting how at first they thought this bond was one-sided, and yet you’ve ended up like this.” He gestures towards Yeonjun, like his whole being is proof.

“And?”

Wherever Taehyun is going with this, it can’t be good.

“Well, you’ve clearly become much more involved in this than the doctors expected.”

“... There’s a lot of reasons for that,” Yeonjun says, defensively. Which is stupid. He has nothing to be defensive over—Taehyun is only stating facts.

But with the way Taehyun is eyeing him like he expects Yeonjun to say more, Yeonjun has a feeling that him being defensive is the right option.

“And I’m contemplating what reasons those are.”

“If you’re going to say it’s all in my head,” Yeonjun breathes in sharply, “the doctor said otherwise, so—”

“Not at all,” Taehyun assures him. “But I do wonder how much your feelings play into it.”

Yeonjun narrows his eyes at him, urging him to continue.

“I’m just saying it’s… possible, from my point of view, that your own personal feelings for Beomgyu hyung are impacting the intensity of the bond,” Taehyun says, each word carefully chosen. Yeonjun’s buries his heel against the dirt and brings himself to a stop, jaw tensing. “And I’m worried that if you put too much of yourself into a temporary relationship, it’ll be harder to let go of it.”

“It’s not a relationship, Taehyun, what the fuck,” Yeonjun mutters.

His heart is pounding like crazy in his ribcage, embarrassed heat spreading like a wildfire. Because those are the exact same worries Yeonjun has been having—but how would Taehyun know that, unless Yeonjun has been painfully obvious about it?

“Relationship as in friendship, hyung,” Taehyun huffs.

Yeonjun becomes aware of how hard his nails are digging into his palms. He pulls them out and winces at the burn.

“It’s…” There’s too much for him to say and not enough energy in his body to compute it. He doesn’t need Taehyun taking Yeonjun’s non-answers as subtle “yes”s and going back to Soobin and Kai about things Yeonjun didn’t say. Everybody in this group is a damn gossip, including Yeonjun himself. Takes one to know one. “It’s complicated.”

“Is it?”

Yes. Yes, it is. Yeonjun has to think for a moment before he can continue, “It’s more like this made me aware of feelings I already had. Like how much I want to protect him and see him happy, but amplified. You know what they say about not knowing how good you have it until it’s gone?”

“Mm.”

“It’s like that, but—it’s not that I’ve already lost his friendship. It just feels… threatened.” For lack of a better word. “And realising I could lose it has made me appreciate it more, I guess.”

“I can see that. I think I’d feel the same way,” Taehyun says. He kicks the ground and sets the swing moving.

Watching the back and forth makes Yeonjun dizzy, and he closes his eyes.

“And it’s not romantic, right?”

“No, Taehyunnie, it’s not romantic.” Yeonjun pauses, swallowing. “It’s not romantic, it’s just—a lot. It’s different.”

He thinks about pressing Beomgyu into the sheets later, licking his scent gland and then tugging Beomgyu close so he can suck on his tongue. Yeah. Different is one word for it.

He tightens his grip on the chains holding up the swing, grimacing.

“It sounds like it could be a slippery slope, though,” Taehyun muses.

That’s an understatement. Yeonjun slumps against the chain, but he would be stupid not to agree with Taehyun’s words. He’s not saying anything unreasonable. If their roles were reversed, Yeonjun would give Taehyun the same advice.

“... There are times recently where I don’t know if what I’m feeling is from the bond or from myself,” Yeonjun says, choosing his words very carefully. He hasn’t been this honest to anybody in a long, long time. But the more he fights back against basic logic, the more Taehyun will grow suspicious of him. “And it’s… confusing.”

“Feelings are always confusing.”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes. “Well, these ones are really confusing,” he huffs.

“That’s why I’m concerned,” Taehyun says. “You should be honest with yourself, hyung.”

“I am being honest. I’m literally telling you how I feel right now.”

Taehyun doesn’t press it. He understands that Yeonjun is telling the truth. Thankfully. “So these thoughts aren’t romantic, but they aren’t platonic either, huh?”

Yeonjun grinds his teeth together. “I don’t need to spell it out for you, Taehyunnie.”

He peeks at Taehyun out of the corner of his eye, waiting for his reaction, but he doesn’t show any on his face. Nothing aside from a slight furrow of his brows, and really, that could mean anything.

“I can’t imagine having those types of thoughts about someone I consider only a friend,” Taehyun says.

Yeonjun’s temple throbs. “You don’t underst—”

“I know I don’t, hyung. I’m saying that I don’t understand, so I’m trying not to judge you too hard.” Taehyun glances at him, eyes dark and unreadable with the sun having set.

“All this started because I was trying to help,” Yeonjun says, trying not to whine and failing. It still feels unfair to be punished by the universe over something that was so good. “You would do the same if you’d known.”

“What, scenting Beomgyu hyung?” Taehyun tilts his head, contemplating. “Maybe, yeah.”

“Exactly.”

“I just don’t think I could have those types of thoughts about him,” Taehyun says, not unkindly. He’s clearly doing his best to be patient without lying to make Yeonjun feel better. “Do you believe that…”

“Do I believe that what?” Yeonjun clicks his tongue. “You have to finish your sentences for me to understand.”

“Do you believe that what you’re feeling is from you?”

Yeonjun purses his lips, swirling his tongue around inside his mouth to get rid of the dry feeling in his throat. His nose itches when he inhales, and his words come out stiff and uncomfortable, “It’s possible.”

Taehyun laughs, shaking his head. “Okay, hyung.”

“My head is mostly about thoughts of… what could happen if I let things happen,” Yeonjun says. “Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” Taehyun says.

“But the thing is, I told you, I’ve never—I’ve never had thoughts about him like this before,” Yeonjun hurries to say. “So—”

“People change, hyung. Both you and him,” Taehyun says. He casts his gaze back towards his feet. “Just because you never thought about it before doesn’t mean it’s not real now. Sometimes the best ideas are the ones you realise belatedly. And sometimes the worst, too.”

Yeonjun laughs, throwing his head back. The moon is bright in the sky, a full circle. It reminds him vaguely of Beomgyu’s face, with his cheeks swollen from having just woken up.

How is even the moon reminding him of Beomgyu? He’s down bad.

“You wouldn’t be so supportive if you knew what exactly I was thinking about him.”

Taehyun stands up, hands on his hips. “Hyung, you guys are going to be having sex in a few weeks. Maybe even less. I can take a wild guess as to what you’re so worked up over.”

Yeonjun was talking about the depth of his thoughts, but he’s not going to correct Taehyun. The other alpha doesn’t need the sordid details of Yeonjun’s lusting.

“Come on. Let’s get back before they start wondering where I kidnapped you to,” Taehyun says.

He holds his hand out. Yeonjun squints at it, and his alpha tells him to ignore Taehyun’s offer and stand up on his own. But Yeonjun isn’t his alpha. He’s Yeonjun.

So even if Taehyun’s hand feels all wrong, too small and not calloused enough for the one he wants to hold, he takes it and gets on his feet.

“You should trust yourself more,” Taehyun says, blessedly releasing him once he’s caught his balance. “He’s putting his trust in you, after all.”

“Don’t I know it,” Yeonjun mumbles, mostly to himself. He shoves one hand in his pocket and fishes out his phone. The screen reads that it’s been an hour since they left the apartment. This has to be the longest he’s willingly been outside of Beomgyu’s vicinity since this whole ordeal began. “Thanks for listening, Taehyun. And thank you for… not judging me too hard.”

Taehyun’s smile is blinding, and the total unabashedness of it brings Yeonjun’s cold, neglected heart back to life. Only a little, but it’s something.

“Of course, hyung,” he says. “I love both of you guys. We all do. If there’s anything we can do—”

“—We’ll tell you. Yeah, I know.” Yeonjun elbows him lightly in the shoulder. “I love you too. I can’t speak for Beomgyu, though.”

“Hey!”

 

Truth be told, he does feel slightly better after speaking some of it out loud. It’s like an invisible weight on his shoulders has been lifted. He’s no longer the only one in the world who knows he’s struggling.

It could come back to bite him in the ass if Taehyun decides to tell Soobin or Kai, or even Beomgyu, what Yeonjun told him. But Yeonjun still has some sense of plausible deniability. He didn’t say what exactly he was thinking about Beomgyu.

He’s pretty sure Taehyun just thinks Yeonjun wants to kiss Beomgyu or something. He can justify that. They’re already kissing because of the bond. What he can’t justify is wanting to fuck Beomgyu outside of their mating cycles.

But Taehyun doesn’t need to know that to support him, and he seems satisfied with Yeonjun’s explanation about what’s going on.

The apartment is eerily quiet when they get back. Beomgyu is off the phone, and there’s nobody in the living room or kitchen. Taehyun raises a brow as he pulls off his shoes, careful not to make any noise.

Yeonjun does the same, and then gives Taehyun the most awkward side-hug of all time. Taehyun is unperturbed by Yeonjun’s stiffness though, and gives back as much as Yeonjun.

“Night, hyung,” Taehyun says. “I think I’m going to sleep early.”

Yeonjun cracks a smile. Whenever Taehyun says that, it’s code for I’m going to stay up all night on my phone. “Right,” he says. “Goodnight, Taehyunnie.”

He hears Kai shout Taehyun’s name as he enters their shared room, and smiles to himself. It’s a wonder that those two have lived together for years and haven’t incurred any issues yet. It’s not like they don’t spend a lot of time together—they’re practically attached at the hip.

Either they’re really lucky, or he and Beomgyu are really unlucky. Or both. Compatibility must count for a lot.

He’s glad they haven’t run into any problems yet, though. He can see how precious their friendship is to both of them and it would break Yeonjun’s heart if it were to become as tredipidatious as his and Beomgyu’s.

Speaking of. Yeonjun doesn’t have to look over his shoulder to know Beomgyu exits his room. The light, sweet scent that hits his nose announces his presence. Yeonjun breathes in deeply, letting Beomgyu’s scent wash over him.

“Yeonjun hyung,” Beomgyu says, bounding over. He hooks both his hands onto Yeonjun’s arm and squeezes. “You’re back.”

“Beomgyu,” Yeonjun returns. Without thinking, he throws one arm over Beomgyu’s shoulder and pulls him in close to get a better whiff of his scent.

As usual, up close, it’s much stronger. Rich and warm, like melted chocolate. Yeonjun is privately glad that he’s the only person attuned to it. The thought of anybody else getting to smell something so utterly addicting bothers him, and it’s not even reality.

“How are your parents?” he asks, rubbing Beomgyu’s shoulder blades.

It’s only once Beomgyu stiffens that he realises he grabbed him with no warning, and he feels his cheeks go red. Especially when Beomgyu’s thigh nudges his own and sends a shock up Yeonjun’s spine.

But Beomgyu relaxes and rests his cheek on Yeonjun’s shoulder, so Yeonjun assumes he’s quietly signifying it’s okay. He forces himself to swallow down the sudden heat that comes with having Beomgyu’s body nearby.

God, he wants to destroy Beomgyu. His problem is out of control. He can’t even put one arm around his omega without getting all lightheaded, fixated on how close he is, how easy it would be for Yeonjun to spin Beomgyu around and press him against the wall. All over a hug.

“They’re fine,” Beomgyu says. He pokes Yeonjun in the side. “You guys were gone for so long. I was about to call and ask when you’d be back.”

“I didn’t realise you were waiting for me,” Yeonjun says, and while he says it in a teasing voice, his alpha preens wildly hearing Beomgyu’s complaint. “Did you miss me that much, Beomgyu-yah?”

“It’s not that, it’s… tonight, we were supposed to…” Beomgyu shoves him away, like he wasn’t the one to grab onto Yeonjun in the first place. He’s cute when he’s embarrassed, and it seems like he’s embarrassed most of the time now. “Ugh, nevermind. If you don’t want to, just—”

“It’s not that late,” Yeonjun says. It didn’t even occur to him that Beomgyu might think he was avoiding scenting him.

“You should shower instead.” Beomgyu’s lips press together. “You have a leaf in your hair. Where did you guys go?”

“We just walked to the park. Just small talk, don’t worry.” Beomgyu crosses his arms in disbelief. Yeonjun tries to reassure him by ruffling his hair.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Beomgyu repeats. “I can last another day. It’s not a big deal.”

“I don’t know where you got the idea that I don’t…” Yeonjun trails off, pinching the bridge of his nose. Beomgyu is wrong, he’s entirely wrong, but if Yeonjun says too much he’ll just come off as creepy and overbearing. “I do want to,” he ends up saying, keeping it short and simple. Dont“Let me shower first and then we can do it.”

Beomgyu plays with the hem of his sleeves, nodding. He doesn’t look too excited, but his eyes, sneaking glances at Yeonjun, betray his eagerness.

Yeonjun bites his lip. It takes a monumental effort not to grab Beomgyu and drag him back to the bedroom right there.

With the kind of thoughts he’s having, you’d think they were going to fuck tonight. It’s just scenting and a bit of kissing and biting, for fuck’s sake. He turns away from Beomgyu again, forcing himself to look away.

“Alright,” Beomgyu says. “I’ll be in your room, then.”

Our room, Yeonjun thinks, but he doesn’t correct Beomgyu out loud.

He’s relieved to find the bathroom empty, and he double checks that the door is locked behind him before stripping himself of his clothes.

Before this, Yeonjun never paid attention to things like what their bathroom smelled like. It smells like soap, but more than that, Beomgyu’s scent clouds his senses and drowns out the usual flowery scent in the room.

It must be some kind of conditioning that the moment Yeonjun steps into the shower, he starts growing hard.

Better to get it over with now than after. It’s too obvious if every time they finish making out he ends up running to the bathroom and taking a shower.

It doesn’t take long for him to get off, with one hand around his cock and the other covering his mouth. He presses his forehead to the wall and squeezes his eyes shut, trying and failing not to allow Beomgyu to overtake his mind.

Beomgyu, with his pouty lips and big eyes, his thick black hair and deep voice, his long legs and strong hands—all he has to do is think about Beomgyu on his knees for him and he’s coming all over the shower tiles for the third time that week. The Beomgyu in his imagination smiles demurely at him, all rosy cheeks and crinkled eyes, and when Yeonjun blinks there’s cum all over Beomgyu’s face.

Yeonjun’s softening cock twitches in his grasp. He groans. It’s like a never ending battle between him and his brain, and he’s the loser every time.

He should really get out of the shower before he gets going again—Beomgyu is waiting for him, and has been for a while, apparently—but then he thinks about Beomgyu licking Yeonjun’s cum off his fingers, and there’s no way he can go back like this.

Two at once is the average for him now. He wasn’t joking when he said his dick might chafe off.

Ten minutes later, he’s drying himself off, body and hair freshly washed. His cock is blessedly soft, for real this time, and he’s probably in the clear for the rest of tonight. Probably.

He sprays an undue amount of scent suppressant onto the back of his neck to mask his lingering arousal. It’s overkill, but he’s not going to take the chance that Beomgyu might randomly clue in to what the sweet tinge to his scent is.

As he expected, Beomgyu is curled up in Yeonjun’s bed already, knees to his chest and his phone propped up on his thighs. A noisy video plays from his phone’s speakers; English, with the distinct boom that’s carried in sporting events. Yeonjun doesn’t get most of Beomgyu’s hobbies; with how much Beomgyu loves art, he doubts anybody would peg him for someone who likes sports as well.

But it’s endearing, and while Yeonjun doesn’t like too much noise in the peace and quiet of his room, he can make an exception for Beomgyu.

“Hey,” Yeonjun greets, sliding the towel off his hair and dropping it into the hamper by his doorway.

Beomgyu’s head whips upwards, and he hastily puts his phone into sleep mood. “Hey yourself,” he says, offering Yeonjun a small smile. He looks exhausted in a way Yeonjun didn’t notice when he first walked into their apartment.

It hurts to see him like this. Beomgyu is someone who’s naturally upbeat all the time, but lately he’s been spending more and more of his energy just existing, and it’s weighing him down. It weighs Yeonjun down by association.

There’s few ways Yeonjun can help, since most of it is out of their control, but this one thing he can do.

“Do you want to do it now?” Yeonjun asks. He sits down on his bed beside Beomgyu, the mattress creaking underneath their combined weight. Yeonjun’s single bed isn’t meant for two tall men. “It’s pretty late.”

Beomgyu nods meekly. “We have to get up early tomorrow.”

“We do,” Yeonjun says. They have a shoot in the morning, then another in the afternoon. Nothing big, but they shouldn’t stay up all night or the makeup artists will hate them. “Is that a yes?”

Beomgyu openly rolls his eyes. “Yes, it’s a yes,” he says, in a tone that says he thinks Yeonjun is being purposely annoying. But he’s not. He’s just being careful.

Even if they mutually understand this is for the greater good, yadda yadda—Yeonjun would never just jump into making out with a friend.

He’s reckless, but he’s not that reckless.

“How do you want to—”

“Hyung,” Beomgyu snaps. “You don’t need to ask me every time when my answer is the same every time.”

Yeonjun sighs. Beomgyu’s answer has been the same every time, yes, but what if it changes? “Hearing you say it out loud is important to me.”

“You’re silly, hyung.” Beomgyu cups Yeonjun’s face in his hands. His palms are big and warm, covering most of Yeonjun’s face. He squishes Yeonjun’s cheeks obnoxiously then pinches the tip of his nose.

It’s a bit uncomfortable, but more than that, Yeonjun’s skin sears under Beomgyu’s fingertips and the flush on his cheeks warms his entire body. Beomgyu’s hands are like a cool salve against the heat, and he suppresses a shiver.

It shouldn’t feel this good for Beomgyu to pinch his cheeks and coo over him. Not in the way it is. Beomgyu is acting cute, but Yeonjun is feeling anything but.

“Yeah, yeah,,” Yeonjun mutters.

“The faster we do it, the faster we can get it over with,” Beomgyu says, oblivious to Yeonjun’s inner plights. He squeezes Yeonjun’s cheeks, clearly enjoying himself.

Yeonjun brushes his touch off. Not because he dislikes it but because he likes it a little too much, and he doesn’t want to come off as desperate by allowing Beomgyu to continue. He has an image to uphold. It would alarm Beomgyu for Yeonjun to let it go on for too long. “Lie down, then.”

Beomgyu’s hands fall back to his sides, and apprehension briefly passes over his face before he diligently lies down. Hair fanned over the sheets, knees curled up, he looks like a fucking dream, and Yeonjun’s breathing stutters to a halt.

… Scenting. They’re supposed to be scenting. The kissing is incidental. Focus, Yeonjun.

Beomgyu doesn’t move when Yeonjun takes his place over him, elbows on either side of Beomgyu’s head. He doesn’t move when Yeonjun brushes his nose along his jaw, breathing in his scent, letting it fill his lungs and head. He does move when Yeonjun kisses the underside of his throat, however, and he almost elbows Yeonjun in the stomach.

Beomgyu is squirmy, which Yeonjun should’ve expected considering Beomgyu is one of those people who never stop fidgeting. Yeonjun finds himself almost snapping stay still at him multiple times, and he draws blood when he bites his tongue to stop himself.

He doesn’t want to accidentally order Beomgyu around and trigger some subconscious instinct, causing them both panic attacks again. But Beomgyu doesn’t make things easy for him. Yeonjun has gotten used to holding him down by the hips, squeezing tightly to quietly remind him to stop.

It seems to work. Beomgyu freezes underneath him, and something flickers over his face as Yeonjun’s thumbs slip over his hip bones.

He moves carefully, peppering light kisses all along Beomgyu’s throat. Every heavy breath Beomgyu gives resonates deep in Yeonjun’s own body, like he’s the one breathing.

Moving downwards, he latches onto Beomgyu’s scent gland, licking in a circle and sucking the wetness that secretes out. It’s like drinking straight chocolate without the sugar crash after. His feels more and more like it’s floating away the longer he laves Beomgyu’s neck, his thoughts melting into a mantra of Beomgyu, Beomgyu, Beomgyu. Yeonjun would live in this space if he could.

“Mm, you…” Beomgyu lifts his hips and Yeonjun hisses, pinning him back down. “Hyung…”

“You never listen,” Yeonjun gripes, only half-heartedly. “Stay still.”

“More,” Beomgyu requests, ignoring Yeonjun’s complaints, as he usually does. He winds his fingers through Yeonjun’s hair and tugs hard, forcing a gasp out of Yeonjun’s lungs.

“Patience,” Yeonjun says. Really, he’s only drawing it out to prove to himself that he has the patience—but Beomgyu is making a good case as to why he should throw that out the window.

His throat pulses underneath Yeonjun’s lips. Yeonjun can feel Beomgyu’s heart racing, the pumping of his blood underneath his skin. Yeonjun gets a whiff of chocolate and his nostrils flare, the hairs on the back of his own neck standing up in alert.

Every note of Beomgyu’s scent screams needy omega. Beomgyu, who’s fiercely proud of being independent and almost reclusive, fisting Yeonjun’s hair and asking for more. It’s such a power trip.

“You aren’t even doing anything,” Beomgyu whines. He lifts his chin and another wave of his scent fills the air, sticking to the inside of Yeonjun’s mouth. He can practically taste Beomgyu already.

“I’m scenting you,” Yeonjun retaliates. He presses his tongue flat to Beomgyu’s jaw to prove his point, licking up the sweet scent clinging to his skin.

Now he’s just being mean. He knows what Beomgyu wants—what he himself wants—and it’s not this.

Biting Beomgyu’s neck would be a death sentence. The stylists would kill him for the mark, and their manager would murder him for worsening the bond. Those types of bites don’t wear off easily. Fuck, Beomgyu himself would kill Yeonjun, once his head is cleared.

But biting other places isn’t technically off-limits. Beomgyu’s collarbone, above his chest, behind his ear. Places nobody will see and aren’t near his scent gland, so there’s no danger of Yeonjun accidentally marking him for real.

The little nibbles are like torture to give, but they’re better than nothing. Yeonjun’s teeth graze the front of Beomgyu’s throat and Beomgyu’s pupils dilate.

“You’re so mean,” Beomgyu whispers, echoing Yeonjun’s own thoughts. “Stop being a tease.”

Yeonjun pulls back to watch Beomgyu’s lips contort into a pout. He’s making that expression he pulls whenever he wants Yeonjun to do something, eyes wet and lips quivering, but this time it’s genuine. He looks thoroughly bullied, and a low, pleased rumble swells in Yeonjun’s chest.

That feeling creeps up on him again, the one that makes him feel feral, that he can’t place as being his or his inner alpha or both. The one that looks at Beomgyu and thinks mine.

He bites Beomgyu’s collarbone, wrangling his thoughts in by basking in the pretty, deep moan Beomgyu gives. A lapse in concentration is all it’ll take for him to blurt out something stupid. He has to stay focused.

“Oh,” Beomgyu whispers, body going lax. His fingers still in Yeonjun’s hair, a floaty, blissed-out look casting over his eyes. Yeonjun releases his skin and laps at the mark he made, a deep red centered on the two pricks of his teeth.

“Good?” Yeonjun asks, hoarsely. Beomgyu hums, and his eyelids fall open and closed numerous times like he’s having difficulty keeping them open.

The first couple of times they did this, Beomgyu would get worked up and rush out of the room the second he deemed it enough, embarrassed by his own instincts. Now he just melts, falling freely into the sensation of being smothered into the sheets by Yeonjun.

Yeonjun fucking loves it.

He sucks lightly on Beomgyu’s throat, on the thin skin stretching over his Adam’s apple. Beomgyu’s scent is the strongest once Yeonjun begins to nip at him, sweet sugar wafting throughout the room so thickly it’s like a physical manifestation on Yeonjun’s tongue.

His mouth waters uncontrollably, but Beomgyu doesn’t seem to care about Yeonjun drooling all over him. Yeonjun would even go so far as to say he likes it, judging by how he begins to purr.

This is Yeonjun’s favourite part, the image that’ll sustain his next two days of showering. Beomgyu’s head falls to the side and Yeonjun noses his way into the crook of his neck, listening to his racing heart and the slow, slow rise and fall of his chest.

Beomgyu told him he didn’t understand the physical appeal of scenting until now. Yeonjun understands too well what he means. Everything is so much more when it comes attached with lips and tongue.

Deep down, Yeonjun dreads the day their bond will be broken. Selfishly, he loves having somebody like this—all pliant for him, a puddle in Yeonjun’s bed for him to lick and bite at. His own personal chew toy.

The mark he leaves on Beomgyu’s collarbone is light, but it gives his alpha an extreme amount of satisfaction to see Beomgyu’s skin colour. All because of him. Nobody else will see it, but they’ll know, and Beomgyu’s omega should be just as satisfied as he is—which in turn makes Yeonjun makes.

By the time Yeonjun is done, Beomgyu’s scent is tinged with a hint of the outdoors, Yeonjun’s own scent clinging to his skin. Yeonjun breathes it in and it eases away all the tension in his muscles. It smells right.

Yeonjun kisses up to Beomgyu’s chin. “Is it enough?”

He already knows his answer, but he’s still happy to hear Beomgyu say, “Yeah. It’s enough.”

Breathlessly, like he’s winded just from being nipped and licked at by Yeonjun. It does wonders for his ego.

A smile spreads across his face. He can’t hold it back. “I’m glad,” he says.

Beomgyu hums, and his response is to flip them over so he can nuzzle against Yeonjun’s neck as well.

They’d probably be able to get by with only Yeonjun scenting Beomgyu and not vice-versa, but Yeonjun certainly isn’t going to complain about Beomgyu going the extra mile. Beomgyu’s warm breath alone fanning over his throat is better than anything Yeonjun could ever do to himself, including getting off in the shower, and he digs his fingers into Beomgyu’s arms, silently telling him to continue.

The way Beomgyu scents is tentative and gentle, the total opposite of Yeonjun. It’s funny, since by all accounts Beomgyu should be the more feral one—because he’s an omega but also by virtue of their bond—but he’s exceedingly considerate, licking Yeonjun’s scent gland so slowly it feels like he’s being teased on purpose.

And Beomgyu whines about Yeonjun being too careful. He’s too cute.

Yeonjun runs his fingers through Beomgyu’s hair, mumbling out a “that’s good”, and smiling again when he hears Beomgyu’s answering purr.

Once they’re both smothered in each other’s scents, Yeonjun rolls onto his side and kisses Beomgyu square on the mouth, closed-lipped and chaste. Beomgyu is the one to part his lips and bring Yeonjun’s tongue inside, sucking on his bottom lip without purpose. Yeonjun moans into the kiss, fingers grappling at Beomgyu’s trim waist, and the little gasp Beomgyu gives goes straight to Yeonjun’s cock.

The kissing definitely isn’t a biological necessity. But it feels so good to give in to the urge, and Beomgyu is the one who keeps initiating. Yeonjun is only going with the flow.

He needs to keep his mind on something other than the press of Beomgyu’s thigh to his crotch, and the always-present awareness that they’re going to spend their cycles together. Kissing is the easiest way to distract himself, and he would bet it’s the same for Beomgyu. The languid pace melts all other thoughts in his brain, and when Beomgyu finally pulls away, he finds himself almost falling asleep.

Beomgyu bats his lashes at him, entirely unintentional, and Yeonjun brushes his thumb over his cheek. How can one person be so fucking alluring without even trying?

He thinks back to what Taehyun said, about him not being able to imagine himself in Yeonjun’s position. But Yeonjun doubts there’s anybody in the world who could resist Beomgyu, lips swollen from kissing and eyes half-lidded. He’s an absolute dream.

Beomgyu leans into his touch, sighing, eyes falling shut. Yeonjun is glad Beomgyu doesn’t run off when they’re finished anymore. Seeing Beomgyu all satisfied like this is almost as good as the actual act. The alpha in him is overjoyed to see his omega relaxed enough to be on the verge of passing out.

“We should probably sleep,” Beomgyu murmurs.

Yeonjun’s eyes fall to Beomgyu’s lips as they move. He imagines biting Beomgyu’s lip, rolling it in between his teeth until Beomgyu cries out. If only.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Probably.”

They never talk much after these sessions. There’s nothing to say when they’ve already silently agreed to make out. Talking about it would only make it more serious, and they don’t need that.

Plus, Yeonjun is tired and judging by the way Beomgyu yawns, arms stretching over his head, he is too.

The movement dislodges Yeonjun’s own arms from around him, and he pouts at Beomgyu’s back as the other male stands up, leaving him alone on the bed.

Sleeping in the same bed wouldn’t be a big deal. Not compared to the making out and biting and even the scenting—but since Beomgyu hasn’t suggested it, neither has Yeonjun.

He should be grateful. He’s been waking up with morning wood more and more recently. Beomgyu doesn’t need to find out about that either.

Beomgyu shuffles over to his mattress on the other side of the room. In the past few weeks, he’s brought more and more of his stuff over, little bits and bobs like his dim reading lamp and his favourite books.

He always looks so focused when he reads before bed, and Yeonjun pretends to sleep when he does so when in reality he’s just watching Beomgyu through the darkness. Seeing Beomgyu in his natural element is something else.

It gives Yeonjun’s alpha a different satisfaction to kissing him. It’s nothing sexual, just—like he told Taehyun, this whole ordeal has made him realise how many little things about Beomgyu he appreciates. One of those things is how cosy he is. And the fact Yeonjun is the only one to have witnessed it is the cherry on top.

Well, aside from Soobin, when he and Beomgyu were roommates. But he would prefer not to think about that.

“I’m gonna sleep,” Yeonjun announces.

“I’ll sleep in a bit,” Beomgyu says. “I’m gonna read for half an hour. Does the light bother you?”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Okay, hyung. Let me know if it gets annoying. I know people your age need more rest than we do.”

Yeonjun can hear Beomgyu’s smile in his voice, and his own heart flutters in happiness. He’s the cause of Beomgyu’s happiness, or at least a contributor.

That he knows isn’t only his alpha speaking, or a byproduct of the bond. Of course Beomgyu’s happiness makes him happy to see. They’re friends. It’s only natural. He won’t allow himself to feel guilty over that. He has enough to be guilty over.

While Beomgyu sets himself up with a book, Yeonjun rearranges his sheets so he can bury his face into the pillow Beomgyu was resting on. It’s drenched in his scent and it instantly calms all of Yeonjun’s remaining nerves.

Nothing could bother him after being scented and kissed by Beomgyu, wrapped in a pile of sheets that still smell like him.

“Goodnight, Beomgyu,” he mumbles.

“Goodnight, hyung. Sleep well.” Beomgyu pauses. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Yeonjun says. “It’s for my benefit too.”

Beomgyu laughs. “Right. I know.”

Yeonjun ends up falling asleep with the sound of Beomgyu’s page turning lulling him into his dreams. His sleep is full of Beomgyu, his scent and smile and soft hair splayed over Yeonjun’s pillow, and he’s not surprised in the slightest when he wakes up the next morning with a tent in his pants.

 

Bright and early, just after the sun has risen, they’re herded into a van and given a stack of scripts to memorise before breakfast. Comeback season means promotional videos, and they have lots of them to film, bite-sized clips for Twitter and YouTube that always take them ten takes to get right.

He and Kai share a giant plate of sausage in the cafeteria while Beomgyu nibbles on a grilled cheese sandwich beside him. Yeonjun scowls at him whenever he stops eating, successfully intimidating him into continuing.

“I’m not that hungry,” Beomgyu complains. He never is, during breakfast. But that won’t stop Yeonjun from trying to get him to eat more.

The three of them finish up in relative silence and move to the training room they’ve booked to film in. Taehyun and Soobin are tucked in a corner together, mumbling to each other about something as the staff set up the cameras.

When they see them walk in, Taehyun stands up, grinning too brightly for somebody who barely got three hours of sleep. Yeonjun would know—he woke up to a dozen Weverse notifications from him.

“You guys ready?” Soobin asks from the ground. He twirls a water bottle around in his hands, restless.

“Yep,” Beomgyu says, nodding, and his fluffy hair bouncing around makes him look like a little puppy.

The videos are simple, and they only need to memorise one line each for each one. Yeonjun stands beside Beomgyu in the back, Soobin towering over them both directly in front. Despite the terrible backdrop and general lack of enthusiasm towards the subject matter, they manage to film all six videos within two hours.

Stuff like this wouldn’t have been possible two weeks ago. Yeonjun wouldn’t have been able to stand still and Beomgyu wouldn’t have been able to fake a smile for the cameras. They’ve come a long way in comparison to Yeonjun punching someone.

Though that doesn’t stop him from reaching for Beomgyu’s hand behind Taehyun’s back and giving it a squeeze, just in case Beomgyu is still uneasy. The fans will probably notice, but Yeonjun doesn’t give a shit.

They’ll probably think Beomgyu is sick or something and Yeonjun is quietly trying to comfort him—and they won’t even be that far off the mark.

Beomgyu squeezes his hand back, thumb brushing slowly across Yeonjun’s palm, and Yeonjun’s lines become significantly more chipper after that.

When they’re finished with the videos, they’re whisked off to another part of the building for a brief Weverse photoshoot. It’s nothing fancy, so the hair and makeup is quite simple—Yeonjun falls asleep in the chair getting his makeup done to the gentle sweeps of the brushes across his cheeks.

It feels good to return to a sense of normalcy at work after the turbulent first week they had after being bonded. Yeonjun loves working; he loves both the excitement of performing, but also normal jobs like these ones. He likes talking to people and getting stuff done. Seeing the end product is always gratifying to him.

At the root of it, so long as they can continue doing their jobs and they’re able to keep their friendship intact, Yeonjun can’t complain too much about what’s going on.

God bless their management for putting up with them and making sure the first half of that list is a success.

Speaking of their management—their head manager comes in at the tail end of their shoot, while they’re wiping their makeup off, looking just as haggard as he was yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. Yeonjun can feel the exhaustion radiating off him, but he still somehow manages to muster up a small smile for Yeonjun.

Yeonjun smiles back, and he’s about to obliviously ask why their manager is here until he says, “Yeonjun, Beomgyu. You two stay behind. It’s important.”

Yeonjun’s smile quickly falls. Beomgyu halts in his tracks ahead of him, as rigid as a rock.

So much for having a normal day. It was too good to be true.

“Of course it is,” Beomgyu mumbles. And then louder, “I need to go to the bathroom first.”

“Just don’t take too long,” their manager yells back. Beomgyu nods, not facing them, and scurries off.

Yeonjun’s feet twitch in place, wanting to follow, but he forces himself to step backwards instead. Beomgyu doesn’t need Yeonjun watching over his shoulder while he pees.

Their manager makes his way over to Yeonjun, phone in hand and thumb typing away furiously. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad,” he says. “We just need to talk about some stuff.”

Those words don’t exactly fill Yeonjun with confidence. Stuff could mean anything. Most of them bad.

“It’s not about that guy, right?”

“Which one, the one you punched?”

Yeonjun nods.

Their manager laughs. “No, no. It’s good news, really.”

Yeonjun sure hopes so.

“Hyung,” Soobin says, jogging over. He doesn’t glance in Yeonjun’s direction, only blinks at their manager, wide-eyed. “What are you doing here?”

“Picking up Yeonjun and Beomgyu,” he answers. “You guys can head on home. It doesn’t concern you.”

Soobin stops in his tracks just like Beomgyu did. “Huh?”

“Don’t worry about it, Soobin-ah,” their manager says, clapping Soobin on the back. “Just take the maknaes home. Yeonjun and Beomgyu will be able to help you catch up to speed later.”

Soobin glances uneasily at their manager’s hand on him. Yeonjun feels uneasy just watching them. If it were actual good news, there’s no reason the other three wouldn’t be allowed to hear it.

“But—”

“Soobin.”

“... Okay.” Soobin bites his lip. “Okay. I’ll see you back at the dorms, Yeonjun hyung.”

“Mm.”

Soobin casts them both a worried look, but obediently leaves when their manager points at Kai and Taehyun putting their jackets on. Yeonjun hears Taehyun ask where Beomgyu is, and Soobin’s dull response that he and Yeonjun are staying behind.

None of them know the context, but again, nothing that specifically concerns Yeonjun and Beomgyu can be good. Not unless it’s surprise, we found a way to break the bond tonight.

Since Beomgyu comes back and nobody pops out with a syringe saying those exact words, Yeonjun is going to assume that they did not, in fact, find a way to break the bond tonight. If they did, the medication would already be in them.

Though he tells himself it can’t be bad either, since they aren’t being yelled at. And their manager did smile at him. Yeonjun highly doubts he would be smiling if it was real bad news.

Right?

He only grows more uneasy as their manager leads them downstairs, through the stairwell instead of the elevator where there are less staff lingering around. Beomgyu walks one pace ahead of Yeonjun, sleeves covering his hands.

Yeonjun wonders if he should grab Beomgyu’s arm or hold his hand or something as reassurance, but—he probably doesn’t want their manager seeing that kind of affection, even if it isn’t that out of the ordinary.

Everything is a risk around management. They’re the ones in control of their careers.

Yeonjun shoves his own hands into his pockets to occupy them and follows behind, eyes on the ground.

He wishes they weren’t wearing the scent suppressant patches. Now is one of the times he could use Beomgyu’s scent. And, selfishly, he wants to know what Beomgyu is thinking. Not that Yeonjun can understand most of Beomgyu’s thoughts even when his scent is out, but he’s become a little too reliant on it to gauge how Beomgyu is feeling.

Thankfully, Beomgyu is the one to hold Yeonjun’s hand under the table as they take their seats in the meeting room. There’s nobody else there except for them, and their manager is entirely unbothered by their silence, taking a seat across from them and beginning to ramble on about something that happened to him earlier.

Yeonjun isn’t listening. No offence to him—he’s just exercising all his brain power on staying calm and rational. Their track record of calm and reassuring meetings lately has been pretty dismal.

The last bits of hope he had that whatever they’re going to get is ‘good news’ is dashed when the same doctor who treated Yeonjun a few weeks ago enters the room.

“Hello, you two,” he greets pleasantly. He’s in a normal person outfit—that is, not a set of scrubs or a doctor’s coat—and the same signature glasses Yeonjun saw him in last.

“We’ve been working with Huiyoung-ssi over the past few days to develop a concrete plan for the next month,” their manager explains.

“How are you two feeling today?”

Yeonjun presses his knees together, squinting between their manager and the doctor. Neither of them give anything away as to what answer they expect.

“Fine,” he answers. “Better than before.”

“Good,” Beomgyu says.

“I’m glad to hear that,” the doctor says, eyes crinkling behind his glasses. “I’ve heard you guys haven’t been having any problems since you were last in the hospital, Yeonjun-ssi? Have you guys been scenting each other?”

Yeonjun’s neck creaks as he nods. “Yes. Every two days or so.”

“Good, good. I’m happy to hear that it’s working. I wasn’t sure if it would be enough.”

It’s not, but Yeonjun isn’t going to offer that information up.

“If it’s not, or it suddenly worsens, you can try increasing the amount. Or going further—but if you’re going to do anything major, please call and check first,” the doctor continues. “About why we’re here today, your manager informed me that it’s important you guys get everything out of the way before your group’s comeback.”

Alarm bells blare in Yeonjun’s head.

“Okay,” Beomgyu says. His voice cracks at the end. “Then…?”

Their manager and the doctor share a long, unreadable look. Yeonjun squeezes Beomgyu’s hand for his own sake, a lump suddenly lodging itself in his throat. He attempts to swallow it down and it only makes it worse.

He already knows what they’re going to be told before anybody speaks again.

“We’ll induce your guys’ cycles exactly two weeks from now. Everything has already been booked off.

“How is this good news?” Yeonjun grumbles, staring at their manager in betrayal.

It’s good news for Yeonjun’s dick, sure. But it’s not good news for the part of him that’s still coming to terms with wanting to fuck Beomgyu.

Their manager raises a brow at him. “The sooner you do it, the sooner you get it over with,” he says.

“There are only five weeks left until your guys’ comeback,” the doctor says, patiently. “Doing it next week will give ample time for recovery—”

“Recovery from what?” Beomgyu asks. His voice is weak, like he’s holding back his real thoughts. Yeonjun rubs his thigh under the table; Beomgyu doesn’t react.

Yeonjun isn’t going to say it, but he understands where their management is coming from. They have no idea what their physical states will be like after their cycles. They’re well-equipped for long bouts of dancing and singing after years of being idols, but sex is… another story. It requires a different type of energy.

Unfortunately, Yeonjun fears the second he gets his hands on Beomgyu and vice-versa, they’re not going to be able to stop. Yeonjun knows enough about mating cycles to know that tearing apart any pair of people once they’ve started is near-impossible.

Yeonjun’s thoughts are already plagued enough by Beomgyu—he can’t imagine how much worse they’ll get when he has Beomgyu naked in front of him.

But his excitement at getting to fulfill his fantasies is squashed by the dread of not knowing what’ll happen after.

“Well, there might not be a recovery period at all. But if there is…” The doctor crosses his arms over the table. “We just want to make sure we have enough time for it.”

“We’ve booked a hotel for you two. They specialize in this sort of stuff for celebrities, to minimise the risks,” their manager says. He looks them both straight in the eyes. “The date is non-negotiable. I know this will be difficult, but—”

“It’s fine. We already knew we would have to,” Beomgyu interrupts. This time, his voice has a bit of an edge to it. Yeonjun wants desperately to kiss the little pout off his face. “We’re just treating it like it’s work. It is work.”

Their manager’s eyes widen in surprise, and then he nods, pleased. “Exactly. I’m glad you two understand.”

Yeonjun understands. But he kind of wishes he didn’t.

They’re given the same spiel as before about keeping calm, don’t worry, they’ll get through this, and reminded a dozen times that the doctor is available to talk any time. Their company likely has him on retainer for them, if that’s a thing. But there’s no medical advice for being sexually attracted to your friend. Even as Beomgyu frowns to himself and holds back a scowl, he’s still so fucking pretty it causes Yeonjun chest pains.

Yeah, he’ll keep that to himself, thank you very much.

The meeting is considerably more professional than the last few Yeonjun has been in, he’ll give them that. But he’s still shaking by the time they exit, his head swimming with too many thoughts to even begin digesting a single one.

Two weeks and he’s going to have his dick inside Beomgyu. Two weeks and their friendship will never, ever be the same, for better or for worse.

Yeonjun has been trying to mentally prepare himself for this event, with it being inevitable, but the closer it gets the more he thinks he’s only getting prepared for the act and not the outcome.

Less than a month ago, if someone told him he and Beomgyu would have to fuck, he would have laughed and made a fake gagging noise. Now he wouldn’t be able to hide his grin.

To nobody’s surprise, neither of them have anything to say on the ride home. They never do. It takes time to digest information like this.

Yeonjun watches Beomgyu out of the corner of his eye, looking at his reflection in the window, at the pretty, round slope of his nose and lips. It could be worse, Yeonjun supposes. He could have to fuck someone he’s not attracted to at all. Beomgyu certainly doesn’t fall under that category.

Then again, being bonded to somebody he has no chance to feel anything more than obligation towards would be a blessing in that he wouldn’t be battling the constant daydreaming.

If Beomgyu minds Yeonjun’s staring, he doesn’t show it. Yeonjun suspects he’s too lost in his own head to notice.

“That was quicker than I expected.” Soobin’s voice comes before Yeonjun has the door to their apartment all the way open. “What happened?”

“Were you waiting for us?” Beomgyu huffs behind Yeonjun. He toes his shoes off neatly, and Yeonjun feels peer pressured to do the same. After living in the same room as Beomgyu for the past few weeks, he’s begun actively trying to make less of a mess around their dorm, lest his temporary roommate judge him.

“Yeah,” Soobin says bluntly. “I couldn’t focus on anything because I just kept wondering what it is you guys were talking about.”

Beomgyu sighs and goes on his toes briefly to look over Soobin’s shoulder. “Where are the others?”

“In their room,” Soobin says. “Why?”

“Go get them and then we can talk.”

Yeonjun’s brows raise at the command in Beomgyu’s voice, and they raise even higher when Soobin listens without complaint, leaving them by the entryway to the apartment.

“Beomgyu,” he says, hushed.

“I’m fine,” Beomgyu responds before Yeonjun can say anything more. “I just want to get the conversation over with.”

“Do you want me to be the one to tell them?”

Beomgyu pouts. “I can tell them, hyung. “ He crosses his arms. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Yeonjun can think of a dozen times in the past where Beomgyu lost control over the conversation, being the easily distractible person he is. But if he wants to break the news to them, so be it. It’s his best friend that’s going to be the most bothered, undoubtedly, so it’s for the best.

“Okay,” he says, and pats Beomgyu’s arm. “Let’s tell them, then.”

It feels like they should be freaking out more, like when they first got the news they’d be spending their cycles together—but Beomgyu seems more determined than anything, like he’s channeling all his upset into positivity.

That, or he’s having a complete mental breakdown inside and masking it as best he can. Yeonjun will find out later once he’s in private.

The five of them sit on the living room floor and discuss what Yeonjun and Beomgyu were just told. Like Beomgyu, their reactions aren’t extreme as Yeonjun expected—mostly just mild surprise and concern for their state of mind—and Yeonjun wonders if he’s the only one having difficulty coming to terms with this.

Beomgyu said it was just work, and that’s technically true. If everybody else agrees, Yeonjun really is the odd one out.

But Beomgyu isn’t the type to treat anything as just work, so Yeonjun has a hard time believing he’s truly unaffected as he’s trying to come off as.

“If you guys need me to talk to them, to try and postpone it—” Soobin starts.

Beomgyu shakes his head. “It’s okay. I told you, we all already knew it was going to happen,” he says softly. “But thank you.”

Soobin frowns, but he doesn’t fight back. “Okay,” he says, sounding reluctant. “If you say so.”

Kai clears his throat. “Since we’re all out here, we should do something! It’s been weeks since we watched a movie together,” he says. His eyes drift towards Taehyun then snap back to Yeonjun and Beomgyu. “Is… is that okay?”

Beomgyu smiles. “Of course. Yeonjun hyung?”

“Sure,” Yeonjun says. He doesn’t think he could focus on a movie right now, but if everybody else is in, he can’t exactly say no. It’ll give him some time to think without being bothered. “But Beomgyu isn’t allowed to pick.”

“Hyung!”

Soobin ends up choosing, which Yeonjun is grateful for because he has basic taste and therefore never picks anything controversial. Yeonjun leans against Beomgyu under their shared blanket, cheek on Beomgyu’s shoulder.

The others must be used to them being glued together now, because nobody bats a lash at them, not even when Beomgyu rests his cheek on top of Yeonjun’s head.

Yeonjun isn’t doing it to be cute. He’s doing it because Beomgyu is still wearing the stupid scent suppressant patch, just like Yeonjun is, and the only way he can get even the slightest bit of his scent is by pressing his nose to his skin.

He blinks and two hours pass without him comprehending both the movie and his own thoughts. He’s too dazed to do anything but vegetate. There’s too many unknown factors for him to begin jumping to conclusions about what’ll happen and how he should feel about it.

There’s so much they’re going to have to discuss. The reality of having sex, especially sex where they weren’t planning to have it but now have to plan for it, isn’t actually that sexy. Yeonjun doubts they’ll be able to stick to any real plan, being lust-driven out of their minds, but they should still talk about it.

God knows just going into it unprepared wouldn’t turn out well. Yeonjun doesn’t need a scry to know that.

And… plus as Yeonjun is acutely aware, Beomgyu is a virgin, which makes it even worse. His earlier thoughts of asking if Beomgyu wants to try doing anything more before their actual cycles hit comes back to him, but Yeonjun doesn’t have the courage to ask, regardless of if it’s a good idea or not.

When Beomgyu announces at the end of the movie that he’s retiring to bed early, Yeonjun practically trips in his haste to follow. The other three let them go without a fuss, and Yeonjun feels bad for not spending more time with them—especially after he complained about that exact thing to Taehyun the previous night—but there are more important things going on.

“Lock the door, please,” Beomgyu says as they enter Yeonjun’s room.

“I was going to lock it anyway.” He does so, and the moment it clicks, Beomgyu wraps his arms around Yeonjun’s shoulders and tears the scent suppressant patch off the back of Yeonjun’s neck.

He cringes at his own scent, but Beomgyu’s face instantly warms and he sighs in obvious contentment, shifting closer. Yeonjun gets the feeling—he really does.

“Sorry,” Beomgyu says. His hands drop to Yeonjun’s wrists, and he tucks his face against Yeonjun’s neck. The tickle of his lips on Yeonjun’s skin makes him fight back a moan and it’s not even remotely sexual. “I just—I needed you. Um, your scent, I mean.”

He said that same thing to Yeonjun weeks ago when they had no idea they were forming this bond, though far more panicked. It hurts Yeonjun’s heart to recall Beomgyu drenched from the rain, shivering and desperate for Yeonjun to scent him.

He cradles the back of Beomgyu’s head, fingers tangling into his hair. “How many times do I have to tell you not to apologise?” he admonishes. How many times has he said those exact words, even?

Not that Yeonjun is any better, but.

“Sorry,” Beomgyu repeats, though this time it’s more teasing than anything. “Do you want me to take mine off too?”

Yeonjun answers by ripping off Beomgyu’s scent patch. His scent is more bitter than earlier, more brittle, but no less comforting compared to not being able to smell anything. Yeonjun’s head and chest both grow lighter, and he presses his forehead to Beomgyu’s, exhaling slowly.

“I don’t know what to say,” he murmurs.

“Neither do I,” Beomgyu says. He shuts his eyes and Yeonjun simply looks at him, taking in his stupidly long lashes and the remnants of eyeshadow on his lids. “I’m… a little overwhelmed.”

Yeonjun smiles. “Me too,” he says. “At least we’re overwhelmed together.”

Beomgyu laughs, and when he opens his mouth, his warm breath ghosts over Yeonjun’s lips like an invisible kiss. “I kind of want to cry, but at the same time, I keep telling myself it’s not a big deal, and I shouldn’t—”

“It is a big deal,” Yeonjun says.

“You told me nothing would change after this.”

Yeonjun puffs out his cheeks. He didn’t say those words exactly. He said that he would fight to stay friends with Beomgyu, which is absolutely true. Fuck, he’s mostly fighting himself these days.

“That doesn’t mean it’s not a big deal,” Yeonjun says. “But you also shouldn’t freak out. You can be in the middle somewhere. It’s not one or the other.” When he told Beomgyu to calm down, he definitely didn’t mean ignore everything. That’s not healthy either.

Beomgyu groans, stepping back once, then twice then three times until the back of his knees hit Yeonjun’s bed and he topples onto his back.

Yeonjun crawls on top of him, one leg wedged in between Beomgyu’s thighs. Beomgyu still has his eyes closed, and Yeonjun graciously accepts the free time to keep staring at him.

He reaches for Beomgyu’s cheek and squeezes it lightly. Beomgyu laughs and bats his hand away, not hard enough to actually dislodge it.

“I am freaking out. You know that, hyung,” Beomgyu whispers. “But I’m—I’m trying to tell myself it’ll be okay. Like you said…”

“We can get through this.”

“Mm. Exactly.” Beomgyu’s eyes flutter open. “It’s just hard to believe we only have two weeks until… you know.”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun breathes out. He drops his gaze to Beomgyu’s throat to avoid looking into his eyes as he speaks, which—big mistake. Beomgyu’s scent gland peeking out from under his sweater is even worse to be reminded of. “Are you okay, though?”

“Are you?”

“Don’t answer my question with a question,” Yeonjun nags, switching to pinching Beomgyu’s cheek. Beomgyu whines, and the sound flares something up inside Yeonjun. Something red and needy. “Beomgyu-yah.”

“Yeonjun hyung.”

“It’s…” Yeonjun moves his hand to over Beomgyu’s chest, over his heart. He can’t feel it from over his sweater, but he can imagine it. “It’ll be okay.”

“I know,” Beomgyu says, not missing a beat. “I know it’ll be okay eventually. I just want that day to come sooner.”

Tell him about it.

“Do you want to talk about it now, or—?”

Beomgyu shakes his head. He sits up suddenly, forcing Yeonjun to sit up as well, half on top of Beomgyu’s lap.

“Tomorrow,” Beomgyu says. “I know there’s lots to talk about, and we should start planning what to do and our boundaries or whatever and all that other stuff that comes with you know what, but I don’t think I could handle thinking about all of that right now and—”

“Beomgyu.”

A laugh bubbles in Yeonjun’s chest. God, even when they’re both verging on miserable, Beomgyu being Beomgyu can immediately cheer him up.

Beomgyu attempts to frown, but he’s fighting back a smile. “Tomorrow,” he says again. “Is that okay?”

Yeonjun shrugs. “We have a lot of free time tomorrow, so yeah.” Even if they didn’t, Yeonjun would find time to sit down with Beomgyu and discuss what they need to do.

“Thank you,” Beomgyu says.

“Fuck’s sake, Beomgyu. Stop thanking and apologising for things like this,” Yeonjun bemoans. “It makes me feel like we’re doing a business transaction.”

“Aren’t we?” Beomgyu counts off on his fingers, “It is related to work, and we get paid monthly now so that includes the time we’ll spend together, and we’re basically trading my heat for your rut, and—”

He’s so insufferable. Yeonjun adores him, and he’ll do anything to make sure Beomgyu can keep being insufferable around him. That’s his goal. That’s what matters here.

For now, he shuts Beomgyu up by kissing his throat, licking his scent off him. Beomgyu squeaks, lips clamping shut, and Yeonjun snickers.

They end up rolling around on Yeonjun’s bed together, half scenting each other and half wrestling because Beomgyu won’t stop pushing him a little too hard. Eventually Yeonjun pins him onto the mattress and scents him for real, and it feels fucking amazing even if they did it less than twenty four hours ago.

Judging by Beomgyu’s breathy moans, he doesn’t mind the schedule change. The doctor did say they could increase the frequency. And they just got big news—they deserve to indulge in something that’ll lessen their anxiety for the rest of the night.

“Two weeks,” Beomgyu says, reaching for Yeonjun’s face with both his hands. “We got this. We’ve already gotten this far.”

“Two weeks,” Yeonjun says, kissing the corner of Beomgyu’s mouth delicately. “You’re right.”

Two weeks to prepare himself to fuck Beomgyu.

This will definitely go well.

Notes:

i could paste the exact same author's note as the last chapter here and it would still apply lmao. statistically this chapter is longer than 70% of the oneshots i have posted on this site. what does this say about me??

it makes me happy to see them communicating... i hope other people get as much joy out of it as i do LOL

thanks for reading!!! please (please..) let me know what you think <3

Chapter 10: Beomgyu

It’s strange to think how far modern medicine has come, that this pea-sized pill he’s holding in the palm of his hand will cause him to go into an intense, sex-crazed heat in a few days.

The pill is alarmingly unalarming. Smaller than any of Beomgyu’s normal medications, with no scent or coating. Nothing about it screams this is going to make me uncontrollably horny soon and want to have freaky sex with one of my closest friends.

A very large part of him wants to chicken out and toss the pill into the toilet. There are, theoretically, other options for them still, though they’re not nearly as efficient nor pleasant as just going through their cycles.

That’s saying something, since very little about their cycles is going to be pleasant in the long run.

Alas, he signed away most of his personal rights and ability to think freely when he became an idol. And then there’s the responsibility aspect of it too. Going through their cycles is less work for everybody else involved than any of the other options. He’s already plagued with enough guilt.

He slips the tiny pill onto his tongue and then picks up his glass of water, hands shaking. He can’t bring himself to swallow it dry. It feels like he might choke on it even though it’s only a fraction of the size of his nail.

By the end of the week, he should be in pre-heat at the very least, if not fully into the throes of his heat. Yeonjun will take his version of the pill tomorrow; ruts come on faster than heats. Ideally, they’ll start and end their cycles on the same day.

Quick and easy, the doctor said. Beomgyu laughs every time he thinks about it.

Quick, yes, relative to the rest of their lives. But easy? Physically, he has no worries about them getting through their cycles. He’s not afraid that Yeonjun will hurt him.

Mentally… that’s where all of his doubts lie.

He swallows the bitter tablet in one gulp, feeling it get stuck in his throat for a second before it slides into his stomach. There’s a tense moment right after where he blinks at himself in the mirror and tilts his head back like he’ll be able to instantly feel his heat coming on, but nothing happens except that he looks silly and gets a good view at how he’s breaking out on the underside of his jaw from stress.

The next few days are going to be torturous. Beomgyu has never been good at dealing with anticipation. He’s going to spend his week wondering whether every bit of pressure in his belly is because his bladder is full or if it’s because of his impending heat.

He downs the rest of his water for the hydration and wipes his mouth with the back of his arm, getting his sweater sleeve slightly damp. After scrubbing his face with a soft cloth, he flicks the lights in the bathroom off and returns to the living room.

Yeonjun is the only person lingering, everybody else tucked away into their rooms still, giving them space. Beomgyu finds it unnerving to wake up and see the common area completely empty and untouched. It’s like nobody has lived in their dorm for the past few weeks. He hasn’t even seen Kai and Soobin hosting their usual anime nights.

On the plus side, he’s never seen the living room so clean, since nobody’s been using it. But he would rather see it messy and well-used than like this.

He misses that first week he and Yeonjun were bonded, when everybody was still convinced they could continue on normally. That seems like so long ago now. Beomgyu feels like he’s aged years since then, and he’ll age a dozen more by the end of this week.

Yeonjun approaches him with a hand outstretched, reaching for Beomgyu’s arm. “Good to go?” he asks, squeezing Beomgyu’s shoulder.

“Mhm.” Beomgyu nods, tearing his gaze away from Kai’s hoodie thrown over the back of the couch. It’s been there for days now. “Where is everybody?”

“Avoiding us, probably,” Yeonjun snorts, not unkindly. They both know the other members’ actions are well-intentioned. And Beomgyu can’t blame them for not wanting to be around a bonded pair on the precipice of their cycles.

“Probably,” Beomgyu agrees, sighing. He rubs at his eyes. They’ll all reconvene in an hour or so anyway for work, and Beomgyu will get his dose of non-Yeonjun bandmate social interaction then, however miniscule. “Did you eat breakfast, hyung?”

Yeonjun shakes his head. “I was waiting for you.”

“What if I already ate, huh?” Beomgyu huffs, hands on his hips. “I woke up earlier than you.”

It’s a rhetorical question. Beomgyu always wakes up earlier than Yeonjun, but he never eats without him. He feels better when he sees Yeonjun has eaten well, whenever possible. He’s lost weight from stress. And it seems like he spends most of his energy worrying about Beomgyu.

“You didn’t,” Yeonjun says, unable to keep the smug grin off his face. Beomgyu rolls his eyes, shaking Yeonjun’s hand off. “We have leftovers. I’ll heat it up.”

“‘Kay,” Beomgyu says. “Do you want help?”

“It’s just putting bowls in the microwave. I’m not that incompetent,” Yeonjun grumbles. “Go sit down while the pill does its thing.”

Beomgyu makes sure Yeonjun sees him rolling his eyes this time. “It’s going to take days for me to feel anything, hyung.”

“Still!” Yeonjun shoos him off eerily reminiscent of Beomgyu’s over-worrying mom as a kid.

Beomgyu is about to open his mouth to talk back, mostly just for fun, when Yeonjun turns away from him and begins going through the fridge to find the leftovers.

“Whatever,” Beomgyu sniffles, and he hears Yeonjun’s laugh behind him as he walks back to their temporarily shared room.

By now, he’s able to move around Yeonjun’s room like it’s his own. He knows where Yeonjun keeps his spare charger, his extra socks, and all the things he doesn’t want Beomgyu to touch. He no longer lives in fear of Yeonjun accidentally using his alpha voice on him because Beomgyu misstepped, so that’s nice.

He doesn’t even really miss his own room, which is a strange, grating thought to have amongst the warm sense of comfort that permeates through him every time he catches Yeonjun’s scent.

Ever since they were rookies, he’s gotten progressively more and more fond of his alone time. He’s the type who needs to sit in silence every so often and recharge on his own terms—playing games or watching YouTube playlists or whatever hobby he’s leaning towards that day. If he doesn’t get that time he eventually snaps, and yet the irritation he expects of living in Yeonjun’s room and their forced proximity never comes.

He’s made his side of Yeonjun’s room his, with a backpack full of all of his essentials that he can pull from, his laptop and tablet, and a seated desk for him to use his mouse on. All in all, it’s no less comfortable than his own room would be, and Yeonjun’s scent edges it out slightly as the winner.

While he no longer feels the urge to stick by Yeonjun’s side like glue, he also doesn’t feel the urge to spend time in his own room despite having the choice.

His brain is aware he should miss his own room, and that he should be excited to return to it after all this is over. And he is, in the sense that he knows that’s what he would normally be feeling. But deep down… he’s really not. He likes being here.

Maybe it’s because Yeonjun doesn’t pry. One of the things Beomgyu appreciated the most, back when they spent every night together unknowingly bonding, was that Yeonjun dialed back his urge to tease Beomgyu in favour of letting them settle into silence.

Nowadays, they spend most of their nights in companionable silence, Yeonjun watching dramas and Beomgyu playing Teamfight Tactics on their respective laptops. Every so often, Beomgyu looks across the room to see Yeonjun’s brows and lips both pinched in focus, and he smiles. He can even tell what type of scene Yeonjun is watching by how bitter or sweet his scent is. It’s cute. It keeps Beomgyu grounded whenever he gets into a loss streak in his games.

Theoretically, it could just be the bond that’s taking away all his negative thoughts before he can register them, making him so comfortable around Yeonjun. But if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t think so.

His comfort around Yeonjun isn’t only because of the bond. It can’t be, because he cherished all those nights he spent with Yeonjun before they bonded too. That’s kind of the whole reason they ended up bonded, wasn’t it? Because he enjoyed being around Yeonjun so much.

For what feels like the trillionth time that week, he worries about what their friendship will look like after this. Not even only the bond, but after this weekend. He has to check his email of all things to distract himself until Yeonjun calls him to eat breakfast.

“I’ll put them on for you,” Yeonjun says.

Beomgyu has the first scent-inhibiting patch hanging off his finger when Yeonjun enters the bedroom. He looks up from where he’s sitting on the ground cross-legged, his view obscured by Yeonjun standing in front of him. His legs look so long from this angle.

“I don’t need help,” Beomgyu says. He doesn’t mind Yeonjun taking care of him to some extent—he would be a hypocrite, since he’s often doing the same things about Yeonjun—but putting on a scent patch is something even a child could do. It’s just a sticker.

Yeonjun shakes his head and plops onto the ground beside him. “It’s not that,” he says, reaching for the back of Beomgyu’s head. He sweeps Beomgyu’s hair off his nape, and Beomgyu shivers as Yeonjun’s thumb briefly grazes his scent gland. “I feel antsy all of the sudden.”

“Why?” Beomgyu asks, slightly breathless. He allows Yeonjun to turn him around so his back is facing Yeonjun.

“I don’t know,” Yeonjun says, his automatic answer. He quickly corrects himself, “I was thinking about our cycles, and… even though I know it’s completely irrational, I can’t stand the thought of anybody else being able to smell you right now. When you’re about to go into heat.”

Beomgyu chuckles despite himself. “Hyung, nobody is going to be able to smell me through the scent patches. And the suppressant pill hasn’t taken effect yet.”

Yeonjun grumbles, his full lower lip jutting out in a sulk. “I know,” he says reluctantly, “but that’s my point. I think I would feel better if I could apply the patches myself. That way I don’t have to worry about them not being secure.” His eyes flicker away as a faint flush colours the tips of his ears.

While a tad unnecessary in this case, Beomgyu supposes he doesn’t mind indulging Yeonjun’s desire for control and extra safeguards—especially if it eases his anxiety.

“Only if I get to do yours too,” Beomgyu replies, lips curling in a teasing grin. The thought of anybody else tending to Yeonjun’s scent glands—or being able to smell him at all—irks Beomgyu more than he cares to examine too closely. “Fair is fair.”

“Of course,” Yeonjun says.

Beomgyu holds his hand over his shoulder, offering up the adhesive scent patch for Yeonjun to take. Careful not to rip the thin medicated film, Yeonjun peels it off Beomgyu’s finger. He lines it up meticulously with Beomgyu’s scent gland, gaze intent and hands unerringly precise. Far more meticulous than Beomgyu would be—he would likely just slap the patch on haphazardly. Under Yeonjun’s concentrated focus, Beomgyu squirms.

“Just put it on,” he says, fighting the urge to fidget as restless energy thrums under his skin.

Yeonjun presses the patch down, his thumb swiping across it to ensure it’s smoothed onto Beomgyu’s skin. The pressure sends pleasure racing up Beomgyu’s spine, lighting up his nerve endings. He has to clench his thighs together to keep himself grounded, senses swimming.

Leaking slick while they’re making out is one thing, but doing it when Yeonjun is just putting on his scent patches is ridiculous. Beomgyu’s not even in pre-heat yet, so he has no excuse for his traitorous reaction.

“Does it feel secure?” Yeonjun asks. He releases the patch and Beomgyu’s hair at the same time, allowing the dark strands to cover the nape of Beomgyu’s neck again. Beomgyu ducks his head, trying to steady out his erratic breathing.

He’s going to blame his oversensitivity on stress. There’s zero reason why Yeonjun grazing his scent gland should feel so pleasurable. Their bodies are so attuned to each other now that Beomgyu’s sure Yeonjun can read his barely restrained arousal in his tense body language. But the alpha graciously doesn’t call him out on it, silently allowing Beomgyu to gather himself.

“Yeah,” Beomgyu says after a moment, swallowing against the lump forming in his throat. “Here.” He picks up the package of inhibiting scent patches off his lap and chucks it over his shoulder at Yeonjun.

The rest of his scent glands aren’t as sensitive as the one on his neck, but Beomgyu’s body still tingles with awareness whenever their bare skin brushes. It’s ridiculous, because they practically make out every fucking day now, and yet Beomgyu’s acting like he’s touch starved.

The last patches on his wrists are the hardest to endure. He has to face Yeonjun again, meeting his gaze, and there’s something about how utterly focused Yeonjun is on such a simple task that squeezes Beomgyu’s heart.

He’s so thoughtful it makes Beomgyu want to scream. A primal part of him kind of wishes Yeonjun would be less gentle in his movements, but the rational part reminds him that he doesn’t want to get slick all over Yeonjun’s floor.

That thought almost has Beomgyu excited for their upcoming cycles. It brings a sort of smug satisfaction to his chest to know he’ll get to see Yeonjun come undone once again—because of him. That’s the important part. He’ll even get to mark Yeonjun up, not properly bond-mark him, but litter his throat and everywhere else with bites and bruises to his heart’s content without worrying about their stylists getting angry over the visible marks.

He knows he absolutely should not find such visceral happiness in a weekend of sex that’s medically mandated and not really of their own choosing. But it’s okay because nobody else can hear the depraved thoughts swirling in his head. Those are for him alone.

“—Gyu? Beomgyu?” Yeonjun snaps his fingers in front of Beomgyu’s face, startling him out of his spiraling thoughts. “Are you okay?”

“Sorry,” Beomgyu says. He hurriedly reaches for the package of scent patches. “Um, turn around. I’ll do you.”

Yeonjun’s brows draw together, clearly hesitating, but he turns obediently. “You zoned out for a minute,” he says over his shoulder. As if Beomgyu doesn’t know that. He’s the person who lost focus. He does not need Yeonjun pointing out the obvious. “Are you sure the pill isn’t taking effect already?”

Thank god for Yeonjun’s remark—it helps Beomgyu’s momentary arousal fade beneath the flare of irritation. “I’m fine,” he says, peeling one of the scent-inhibiting patches off the package. “If you treat me like glass all day over something that hasn’t even happened yet, I’m going to be really pissed off.”

Yeonjun laughs, dropping his head forward briefly before glancing back at Beomgyu with a wry smile. “Okay, okay. You know it’s instinct.” His eyes gleam with mirth. “I’m probably going to ask you another dozen times before the day is up though.”

“Lucky me,” Beomgyu says dryly.

But honestly, as annoying as Yeonjun’s constant coddling can be, Beomgyu is lucky to have him. He would much rather have Yeonjun ask him how he is a dozen times a day than be ignored. Tomorrow, when Yeonjun takes his own version of the scent-suppressing pill, Beomgyu knows he’ll likely act the same way—fretting and fussing to reassure himself that Yeonjun is alright.

Given Yeonjun’s short haircut right now, his primary scent gland is left bare to the open air, nothing covering it. Through common sense, Beomgyu knows the fact the gland isn’t covered by a mess of hair like his means there’s a higher chance of Yeonjun’s natural scent seeping out unhindered.

He’s suddenly glad that Yeonjun suggested applying the patches himself so Beomgyu knows the inhibiting film is more secure than if Yeonjun had just slapped it on quickly before they headed out. He understands where Yeonjun’s worry is coming from now.

In all the times they’ve scented each other, Beomgyu realises he’s never actually taken a proper look at Yeonjun’s primary scent gland. Mostly because whenever he interacts with it, he’s too busy trying to curb indecent thoughts from overwhelming his senses.

Yeonjun’s scent gland sits at the junction between his shoulder and neck, and it seems smaller than average for an alpha’s. That makes sense, given that Yeonjun’s natural scent is subtler than most alphas’ as well.

Beomgyu freezes as a startling realisation hits him: Yeonjun’s scent gland is the perfect size to fit a mating bite, nearly the exact width of a pair of canines. The skin is flushed and swollen from all the scenting they’ve been doing lately, and it’s too easy for Beomgyu’s traitorous mind to conjure an image of him sinking his teeth in, puncturing the puffy flesh.

He falters with his hand hovering above Yeonjun’s shoulder, taken aback by the sudden dark turn of his thoughts. He shouldn’t be surprised by anything his depraved brain comes up with at this point, but that came out of nowhere.

“Beomgyu? Are you sure you’re—”

Before Yeonjun can launch into another flurry of concerned questions, Beomgyu quickly places the inhibiting patch over his scent gland, only mildly disappointed as the swollen flesh disappears from view. He’s grateful that his own patches are on already, because his scent is probably a mess of tangled arousal and possessiveness—two emotions that have no place existing at nine in the morning.

He takes his time ensuring each corner of Yeonjun’s patches is fully secure before moving onto the next one, then the next. After five minutes of meticulous work and more squinting than the task warrants, they’re both complete.

“Thanks,” Yeonjun says, fiddling with the edge of the patch on the inside of his wrist. Beomgyu slaps his hand away with a frown.

“Don’t touch it, the patch might peel off,” Beomgyu scolds. They went through this entire process for Yeonjun’s peace of mind, and Beomgyu knows Yeonjun would get upset if he toyed with the patch now, risking it dislodging. So he should return the favor by not messing with his own patches and worrying Yeonjun further in turn. Honestly.

Yeonjun blinks at him for a moment, then breaks into a bright, sheepish smile. “You’re cute,” he says by way of apology, dropping his hand obediently. “You’re right, I’ll try to leave them alone. Sorry, I should know better.”

Beomgyu huffs, fighting a losing battle against the smile tugging at his own lips. As if that silly compliment will distract him. “You can’t call me cute to diffuse the situation.”

“What would you rather I say then?” Yeonjun asks, eyes glinting. “‘You’re ugly’?”

Beomgyu gawks at him, slapping Yeonjun’s shoulder in exasperation. “Don’t say anything at all!” he yells.

Yeonjun just giggles, actually giggles, as if he said something hilarious instead of ridiculous and embarrassing. Beomgyu despairs of him. “Okay, okay,” Yeonjun relents, still smiling. “I won’t touch the patches or say anything all day, I promise. But Beomgyu-yah—”

“What?” Beomgyu asks warily. Without warning, Yeonjun pulls him closer until there’s barely a breath of space left between them. Close enough that Yeonjun can brush a fleeting kiss to the corner of Beomgyu’s lips, making his breath catch.

“Make sure you do the same, alright?” Yeonjun says, voice low as he nuzzles against Beomgyu’s cheek. “I’m not responsible for my actions if any other alphas catch your scent.”

It takes a second for Beomgyu to understand Yeonjun’s meaning, distracted as he is by their proximity—then he rips out of Yeonjun’s hold, flushing all the way to his ears. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You know it,” Yeonjun says cheekily, entirely unrepentant.

Beomgyu lets his possessiveness slide this once because he’s self-aware enough to recognize that his own inner turmoil likely far outstrips Yeonjun’s—and he’s not enough of a hypocrite to call Yeonjun out for a flaw they share. Most of the time, anyway.

 

At the studio, they’re greeted by the usual staff and promptly whisked off to the makeup and hair stations. As Beomgyu settles into his chair, he watches Yeonjun out of the corner of his eye, checking for any signs of lingering distress. But Yeonjun seems relaxed, joining in the stylists’ friendly banter and laughing along with their jokes. Seeing him at ease helps the tension ease from Beomgyu’s own frame.

He just wants the days leading up to their cycles to go well. They already have so much stress. He needs the normalcy from work to stay sane.

Soon after, he’s herded into the shooting area to wait while the staff put the finishing touches on the lighting setup. Soobin and Yeonjun are deep in debate over today’s… unique clothing choices, voices rising in intensity, while Kai watches them with an amused grin.

The familiar antics bring a smile to Beomgyu’s face as he elbows his way into their circle. If there’s anything they can bond over as a group, it’s the terrible styling they’re all subjected to whenever they’re styled by the magazines and not their own team.

“Did they say the shooting order yet?” he asks, going on his toes to look over Soobin’s tall head. The staff seem to be finishing up the final touches on the set, carefully arranging props and lighting.

Soobin spares him a half-second glance, making a face, probably at Beomgyu’s strange oversized jacket and too-short shorts. “Yeonjun hyung first, then Taehyun, you, me, and Huening.”

Beomgyu hums. He would rather go first so he can keep an eye on Yeonjun the entire time, but at least he’s not going dead last. And it’s only solo shots today. Group shots take ages.

“I have no idea what concept this is supposed to be,” Soobin continues in a grumble, tugging at the bottom of his shirt. It’s a sleeveless style, except the edges of the shoulders are made with a poofy, sheer fabric that reminds Beomgyu of Disney Princesses. But like, so much worse. “This is so uncomfortable.”

“You got off easy,” Yeonjun says dryly. If Beomgyu is being honest, he thinks Soobin definitely got the worse end of the stick—Yeonjun looks fine in his crop top ensemble, though that could just be a byproduct of him being him. If there’s anybody who can make a Teletubby crop top look good, it’s him.

That, or Beomgyu is so blinded by his attraction to Yeonjun that he thinks the alpha looks good in anything. But genuinely, he’s never seen Yeonjun not pull an outfit off, no matter how crazy. He thought before all this too, so it’s not only the omega in him talking.

Beomgyu hears Taehyun’s voice from behind them, the younger alpha thanking their stylists profusely before spotting them and walking over. He taps Yeonjun’s shoulder. “They’re asking for you.”

Yeonjun gives his own outfit one last withering glare before nodding. “Wish me luck.”

“The pictures will be fine. Just don’t punch anybody this time,” Kai says, too brightly for the words that come out of his mouth. Beomgyu laughs—more as a trauma response than anything.

“Are you guys ever going to let that go?” Yeonjun mutters, rubbing his forehead. He makes something between a smile and a grimace.

“After the amount of shit we got for it? No way,” Taehyun answers on Kai’s behalf. “Good luck.”

“See you in a few,” Yeonjun says.

Kai and Taehyun wander off to find a vending machine for drinks while they wait, while Beomgyu sticks around for obvious reasons and Soobin for not-so-obvious reasons. Beomgyu sends him a sideways glance, wondering if he should be concerned by Soobin not immediately going to pass out on the couch.

In front of Beomgyu, Yeonjun lounges on his stool with a casual grace, one leg kicked out lazily while the other is drawn up to his chest. There’s no denying that he looks unfairly attractive with his arms and stomach bared like that for the stylists to work on. The sight sparks a twinge of envy in Beomgyu, followed by another tinge of jealousy as his gaze traces the lines of Yeonjun’s torso.

The latter reaction leaves Beomgyu feeling ridiculous a second later, but his emotions are hardly following reason at the moment.

His traitorous mind helpfully attempts to reassure him by pointing out that when Yeonjun’s rut comes, it’ll be Beomgyu sharing his bed. The thought sparks another surge of irrational jealousy and Beomgyu forces his attention back to the photographer, trying to ignore the petty grievances of his subconscious. But it’s a losing battle, as always.

He’s at work. The least he can do is wait until they get home to have thoughts like this. Ugh. His actual mood is so good today, but he can’t shake off the possessiveness lingering from earlier.

“He’s doing better now,” Soobin comments, finally speaking up. Maybe he detected how badly Beomgyu needs a distraction. “More like himself.” Soobin nods towards Yeonjun.

Beomgyu sees exactly what he means. Despite Yeonjun’s vocal complaints about his outfit earlier and the collectively tense atmosphere this morning, he slips into his work mode as naturally as breathing now that the camera is rolling. He switches between poses seamlessly, not needing direction from the staff.

“Yeah,” Beomgyu agrees, feeling a glow of pride. Is he allowed to feel proud? Beomgyu can’t help the smug satisfaction he feels at seeing Yeonjun so at ease now. As much as he knows it’s arrogant, he credits their scenting sessions for steadying Yeonjun’s nerves and allowing him to relax into the shoot.

Considering what’s still looming over them, Beomgyu is genuinely impressed by and appreciative of Yeonjun’s professionalism. He hopes he can tap into the same mindset when it’s his turn.

“I was looking up comments on the last video they published on our YouTube channel,” Soobin continues, because of course he did, being the obsessive netizen he is. He keeps his voice relatively quiet, though there’s no staff around them aside from their own manager. “People thought you two were sick.”

Beomgyu huffs out a laugh. “They wouldn’t be wrong,” he says.

He doesn’t need to look at Soobin to know he’s smiling tightly as he says, “No, they wouldn’t be.”

“As long as nobody confirms the theories, they’ll just remain unfounded rumours,” Beomgyu says in an attempt at reassurance.

Soobin’s strained smile shows he’s not fully convinced. “Yeah. I’m not worried, just...” He trails off, fidgeting. Such an awful liar. “I don’t want people reading too much into things. I was planning to do a few impromptu livestreams this weekend to distract them.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Beomgyu says with an approving hum. “Do a crafts or cooking session with the maknaes or something. That’ll keep the fans busy for a few days.” Getting to spend more time with Kai would probably help relax Soobin too. Kai just has that soothing effect on people.

“I’ll ask them later.”

They lapse into silence again, eyes drawn back to Yeonjun as he moves between shots. Aside from his own complex future relationship with Yeonjun, Beomgyu can’t help worrying about Yeonjun and Soobin’s friendship—even longer-standing than his own connections to either of them. He doesn’t know how he’d cope if he were to be the cause of a permanent rift between them.

It’s difficult to get a read on Soobin’s emotional state with him sequestering himself in his room lately. But that’s not unusual; Soobin goes through phases of preferring solitude, only this time Beomgyu can’t be the one to coax him out of it. He’s self-aware enough to recognize he’s not in the right position to help Soobin in that way right now.

If he says nothing, though, he’s worried that Soobin will think Beomgyu is ignoring him on purpose. Which isn’t it. He’s not even plagued with that uneasy feeling about being around another alpha anymore.

“Hyung—” he starts, only for Soobin to cut him off with a sharp shake of his head.

“I’m fine,” Soobin says. It’s like he’s reading Beomgyu’s mind. Beomgyu bites his lip, unsure whether or not to believe him. “I just want this to go well. If you guys can keep it together for the shoot, that already takes a huge burden off me.”

“Alright,” Beomgyu says. Nothing about that is out of character for Soobin. Beomgyu can’t argue without sounding like he’s being paranoid. “It’s only that—we haven’t seen much of each other this week.” Not even during work, where they’ve mostly been split up on their management’s recommendation.

“I know.” Soobin sighs. “I think—I’m hoping that things will get easier after this week. After… you know. What’ll happen.” He picks at his nails. “So then none of us have to worry about it anymore.”

A snappish comment about Soobin thinking too hard about his heat sits on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t in good conscience say that when Soobin a) was right about Beomgyu not being mentally prepared for the possibility of his heat coming, and b) gave very sound reasoning as to why he’s been dwelling on it.

It’s like Yeonjun said—his status as an omega has never been on the forefront of his mind when he’s interacted with them. He was naive for thinking that everybody else would be the same.

He’s quick to join Yeonjun in the seating area once he’s finished with his part of the shoot. Conversations with Soobin can wait until they’re back home, if Soobin thinks they need to speak more.

Yeonjun wordlessly pats the spot beside him on the couch, and Beomgyu curls up next to him. A staff member helpfully delivers a blanket to ward off the chill, and Beomgyu accepts it gratefully, draping it over them both. Part of him expects Yeonjun to sneakily take his hand under the concealing fabric, seeking the contact, but instead Yeonjun focuses on his phone. Beomgyu tells himself he’s not disappointed, ignoring the little pang in his chest.

When Beomgyu’s solo shots are up, Yeonjun starts to stand to follow him to the set. Beomgyu quickly insists he stay put, cosy on the couch. Beomgyu doesn’t have Yeonjun’s unflappable professionalism, and he has a feeling that having Yeonjun out of sight will be easier than having him in sight.

Hah. Imagine telling the him of two weeks ago that. If there’s one thing he can definitely be proud of, it’s that he’s gotten much better at reeling in his irrational needy-omega reactions to everything Yeonjun does.

With Yeonjun standing around watching, Beomgyu doubts he’d be able to fully tune him out, thoughts straying despite his best efforts. And they can’t afford distractions or slip-ups today of all days.

The rest of Beomgyu’s shots pass in a blur. His body moves through the poses mechanically, muscle memory taking over as his mind wanders. He thinks of Yeonjun waiting alone, of the distance stretched between them, and of the other members watching from somewhere out of sight, and feels profoundly tired.

Once the photographer releases him, Beomgyu heads for the dressing room with heavy steps. The sooner he can get out of this outfit, the better. Before he can reach it, a hand lands on his shoulder. Their manager spins him around with a placid smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“A word, Beomgyu?”

The polite phrasing does nothing to conceal the order in the words, and Beomgyu braces himself for whatever lecture or demand is coming. They’ve done everything they’ve been asked to do. Nobody can get mad at them now.

“Hi, hyung,” Beomgyu greets their manager tentatively. “I took the pill this morning—”

“Don’t worry, I know already,” the manager says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I spoke to Yeonjun, but I wanted to check up on you as well.”

“Oh.” Now Beomgyu feels guilty for assuming the worst. “I’m okay. Just… trying to get through work and all.” He shrugs, avoiding the manager’s too-perceptive gaze.

“How are you feeling? Any changes yet?”

“Not yet.”

If talking about his impending heat with Soobin is tortuous, talking about it with their managers is a whole other level. He understands why they have little trust in him, but god, he really is being honest. He doesn’t think him being horny and possessive all day is cause for concern, given their situation.

“Make sure you follow all the instructions they give you guys.” The manager’s hand lands heavily on Beomgyu’s shoulder, grip tightening. “And make sure Yeonjun does as well. I don’t trust him.” His mouth twists. “I think he feels guilty for what happened before.”

Beomgyu nods reluctantly. “I will. We want this to go as smoothly as you guys do. Maybe even more so.” He tries for a smile.

The manager snorts. “True.” His hand lifts away, the weight of it leaving Beomgyu’s shoulders. “I can’t wait for this all to be over.”

Beomgyu looks away. Something uneasy churns in his stomach at the thought. Maybe it’s just general fear for the future. He’ll think about it once they get past the hurdle of their cycles.

“Me too,” he settles on agreeing with. “Me too.”

When they get back home, Beomgyu is fully prepared to dive into another scenting session with Yeonjun. After a day of being plagued with thoughts of biting into Yeonjun’s scent gland, his patience is hanging by a thread. However, Yeonjun says he absolutely needs to shower first, and he scurries off before Beomgyu can protest.

He supposes it’s for the best that Yeonjun washes the accumulated scents of the day off now, else Beomgyu’s omega will likely fret over any traces of outside scents remaining on Yeonjun. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t pout over it, though.

Since he has the time while Yeonjun showers, Beomgyu figures he should gather everything he’ll need for his impending cycle from his room. And by everything, he means a veritable mountain of old, comfortable clothes to nest in.

An omega would usually ask their packmates for extras to add to their nest too, but given the unconventional nature of his and Yeonjun’s situation, Beomgyu has a feeling neither of them would appreciate outside scents this cycle. This won’t be a normal heat. The same rules don’t apply.

Beomgyu rummages through the mess of his closet, pushing aside anything with too much colours and pattern in search of neutral, comforting items. His hands settle on an old hoodie of Yeonjun’s that he stole months ago but never got around to returning, the fabric long since saturated with Beomgyu’s scent but still carrying traces of Yeonjun’s. That seems fitting to add to his nest, a piece of Yeonjun to ground him. A few other stolen-and-forgotten articles of Yeonjun’s clothing are unearthed from the depths of Beomgyu’s closet too, and he adds those to the pile.

With an armful of clothes in shades of grey and brown, worn soft from years of use, Beomgyu sits back on his heels. This should be enough to get his nest started.

He stands up, arms laden with his chosen clothes, only to crash right into Kai’s broad chest as Kai manifests in the doorway without warning. Beomgyu stumbles, the breath knocked out of him for a second by the impact, but Kai’s hands come up to steady him before he can topple over.

“Beomgyu hyung,” Kai says brightly, as if he didn’t almost send Beomgyu’s head cracking open on the floor.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Beomgyu says, smacking Kai’s shoulder half-heartedly. Kai grins unrepentantly. “What do you need”

“What, I can’t come visit my favourite omega hyung?” Kai asks in an innocent tone belied by his shit-eating grin.

“I’m your only omega hyung,” Beomgyu points out.

“Which makes you my favourite by default!” Kai claps. “Congratulations!” His gaze sharpens, landing on the pile of nesting clothes still clutched in Beomgyu’s arms. “What’s this?” he asks, tugging out an armful of clothes from Beomgyu’s arms.

“They’re nesting clothes,” Beomgyu says. “For my heat.”

“Your nest, which you’ll make for your heat,” Kai says sagely.

“You don’t have to repeat me, I know you understand. Did you need something or did you just come here to pester me?”

“Can’t I do both?” Kai asks with a grin. When Beomgyu just rolls his eyes, Kai’s expression softens. “I wanted to check in on you, see if there’s anything you or Yeonjun hyung need help with before your cycles hit.”

Beomgyu softens. Of course Kai’s perceptiveness would be spurred by concern for them. “We’re okay for now, but thanks. I’ll let you know if we need an extra set of hands.” They won’t. Neither of them would ever burden their maknae with anything. But the sentiment is sweet.

“Are you excited?” Kai asks with gentle teasing.

Beomgyu blinks at him, caught off guard by the question. “Am I—what?” he sputters. “Of course I’m not excited. Does anybody get excited for heats?”

“I do, sometimes,” Kai says with a shrug. “It can be nice to drop the pretenses and responsibilities for a while. Just give in to instinct and all.”

“How is being horny shutting off your brain?” Beomgyu asks, sceptical.

“It’s not like you’re actively thinking about anything while it’s happening. It’s kind of like being a passenger in your own body.”

Beomgyu’s horror must show on his face, because Kai laughs at him.

“Sorry, that made it sound worse, didn’t it?” he says.

“Yes,” Beomgyu answers vehemently. “So much worse.”

“I mean, like...” Kai trails off, struggling to put the sensation into words. “It’s hard to explain. I dunno. I don’t mind it, but it may be different for you.”

“I don’t like the idea of not having control over my own body,” he says quietly. He adjusts the pile of clothes in his arms uneasily. “And then there’s the cramping and… the discomfort and all.” His nose wrinkles.

It’s been so long since he went into heat, he doesn’t remember any of the sensations, but he knows from what other people have told him that it can border on excruciating in the worst case scenarios.

“True,” Kai says, stroking his chin. “I guess I’m used to it. But you’ll have medications to help with that stuff. And Yeonjun hyung.”

Well, that is one thing Beomgyu has going for him compared to a usual heat. Though with Yeonjun’s pheromones being suppressed, he’s not sure how much his presence will help. He doesn’t entirely understand the mechanics of their scents and pheromones or whatever and how it affects their bodies.

He hopes that Kai is right, and that Yeonjun’s presence will take away the ache. Beomgyu isn’t good with pain. That’s part of why he suppressed his heats for so long. But quite frankly, even if he is still stuck cramping the entire time, he’ll be so fixated on other things that he won’t have time to think on it. So even if Yeonjun lacks pheromones, the fact he’s there at all as a distraction will help.

“You spend your heats alone,” Beomgyu says tentatively. Kai nods. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

He’s always wanted to ask, but he felt like he and Kai weren’t close enough for him to pry on the details. Kai isn’t the most open person in the world, and since he’s never brought it up, neither has Beomgyu.

“I guess. But it’s not any worse than your legs hurting after dancing all day, or eating something bad,” Kai says, stretching out one leg to prove his point. “Plus, everybody’s scents combined make me tired, so I usually sleep the entire time.”

Beomgyu feels a pang of regret that he won’t experience the escape and intimacy of nesting with pack that Kai describes. The concept of spending a few days curled up cosy and safe in clothes bearing the scents of his closest friends sounds ideal. If that sensory peace was the only part of heats, Beomgyu would gladly go through the ordeal a few times a year. If only.

He sighs and pushes the fanciful thought away. Reality won’t bend to wishful thinking. “Well,” he says after a bracing breath, “we’ll just have to see how things go with this cycle.”

“Are you...” Kai begins, then stops. His hands twist together with uncharacteristic nervousness as he visibly weighs how to continue. “Are you okay with Yeonjun hyung helping you through your heat?”

Beomgyu frowns, unsure of Kai’s implication. “What do you mean?” he prompts when Kai remains hesitant.

“Like,” Kai begins haltingly, still grappling for the right words to voice his concern, “we haven’t talked much recently, so I haven’t had the opportunity to ask how you’re really feeling about relying on Yeonjun hyung’s help for your heat.”

“I...” Beomgyu stammers, taken off guard. He isn’t sure how to unpack the complicated tangle of his feelings on this, or if he wants to. “We don’t have a choice, so...” But that’s evading, not answering, and Kai won’t let him get away with it.

“I know you don’t have another option,” Kai says patiently, “but that doesn’t change how you might actually feel about the situation. It might have to happen, but you’re still allowed to feel conflicted or nervous about it.”

“Well...” Beomgyu says slowly, thinking over his words with care. There’s too much nuance to feelings about Yeonjun to boil them down to simple sentences. “I trust him,” he answers, a plain truth—as plain as any truth about their complex dynamic can be.

Kai studies him a long moment, gaze discerning. “You just seem weirdly calm about relying on him for this,” he says. “I guess I expected you to seem more… anxious. Or conflicted.”

Beomgyu huffs a rueful laugh at being seen through. “I’m not that calm,” he reassures Kai. “I just—since this is asking a lot of Yeonjun hyung too, getting worked up would only stress him out more.”

He’s always found it easier to rein in his own nerves for others’ sakes rather than his own; being the group’s steadfast support is so ingrained in him, what’s one more use of that skill?

Kai clicks his tongue, expression wary. “You’re too selfless, hyung,” he says, exasperated fondness in his tone.

“Tell that to Yeonjun hyung, not me,” Beomgyu shoots back lightly. As if either of them can turn off being caretakers at this point.

Kai tilts his head at him. “Do you ever wish it was someone other than him?”

That’s certainly a loaded question. Beomgyu turns it over in his mind, assessing. Soobin is his closest friend, which automatically makes it weird, and how strained they are right now shows that Soobin isn’t the best at dealing with these things; Taehyun is ruled out for self-evident reasons; and while he and Kai might get through it without trouble, they wouldn’t be able to bond like this in the first place.

“He takes good care of me, and that’s what matters,” Beomgyu settles on saying.

Oddly, Kai seems pleased by Beomgyu’s answer—not just reassured, but smugly satisfied, for some reason Beomgyu can’t fathom. “Good,” Kai says. “And you’d better be taking good care of Yeonjun hyung too!”

“Huh?” Beomgyu says, baffled. “Of course I do. What kind of person do you take me for?” He’s used to Kai’s periodic eccentricity, but this line of questioning makes no sense.

“I’m just saying,” Kai says, grin sliding into something shyer but still pleased, “from the outside, sometimes he can seem very...” He trails off, biting his lip, then shakes his head.

Beomgyu narrows his eyes, certain there’s more to Kai’s oddly smug commentary than he’s letting on—but Kai just keeps smiling innocently. If this is some obscure joke or teasing, Beomgyu doesn’t have the energy to pry it out of him. He rolls his eyes with a huff. “Whatever you’re going on about, quit being weird. Just say what you mean or drop it.”

“I get the feeling that Yeonjun hyung is becoming too... I don’t know, reliant? Dependent? On the bond. I don’t know the exact word.”

Beomgyu furrows his brow, unsure what Kai is getting at. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says honestly. “If you mean how clingy he is, well, yeah. Of course he’s going to be clingy. But I don’t see how that can mean he’s becoming too reliant on it.”

“No, that’s not exactly...” Kai taps his foot. “This is too hard to explain. Nevermind. Just forget I said anything.”

“We know the difference between feelings caused by the bond and our own,” Beomgyu says, aiming for confidence—though inwardly, he’s less certain. He can’t speak for Yeonjun, and even understanding his own emotions is challenging enough. But if acknowledging the bond’s influence eases Kai’s concern... “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Alright,” Kai says after a pause. “If you say so, hyung. I’m not worried. Not at all. I was just pointing it out.”

“Why are you thinking about this all of a sudden?” Beomgyu asks.

“It’s not all of a sudden,” Kai says. “I told you, we haven’t had the chance to talk about it yet. I was waiting to catch you without him for once. Which is really hard, by the way!”

So that’s why Kai cornered him out of nowhere, concern simmering for who knows how long without outlet. Come to think of it, he’s barely left Yeonjun’s room this week, so Kai truly hasn’t had many opportunities to pull Beomgyu aside like this. That’s more Beomgyu’s fault than Kai’s.

“You don’t need to worry,” Beomgyu says firmly. “I’m not scared about the heat itself, so you shouldn’t be either. Just help me get these clothes ready, and once I’m settled things will be fine.” He gathers the pile from Kai’s arms, signaling an end to this strange conversation.

“Oh, right.” Kai looks down at the pile of clothes in his arms like he forgot about them. “Where are you taking all this?”

“Yeonjun hyung’s room. I was thinking I’d make a practice nest. To get used to it.”

Kai nods, mercifully forbearing any teasing comment as he helps Beomgyu carry the clothes. At the doorway he stops, careful not to breach the perimeter of Yeonjun’s space and overstep. Kai may tease, but he’s attuned to boundaries that can’t be pushed.

With the pile of fabric settled on his mattress, Kai bids him goodbye. Once the door closes behind his packmate, Beomgyu sags with relief. Kai is too astute for Beomgyu to escape his concern or questioning for long, if he has more worries, but for now he can turn to constructing the nest in peace.

The shower is still running; how long could Yeonjun possibly take in there? Their water bill must be astronomical.

Beomgyu busies himself with sorting the clothes into piles: whites, darks, colours. He separates the delicates further, grouping them by fabric type. Yeonjun’s scent wafts over as Beomgyu works, triggering a Pavlovian sense of comfort and ease.

He hears Yeonjun say something to Kai. A few moments later the door to Yeonjun’s room is being pushed open and Beomgyu is doubly assaulted by the scent of rain.

“Hey,” Yeonjun greets. “What’s this?”

Beomgyu looks up from folding a sweater, mouth opening to speak, but his words catch in his throat when he sees Yeonjun. He’s shirtless, water droplets clinging to his collarbone and sliding down his bare shoulders. His hair is pushed back, exposing his keen dark brows and eyes, fixated on Beomgyu. Beomgyu’s hands still, the cotton t-shirt slipping from his grasp to pool on the floor, forgotten.

He knows Yeonjun is waiting for an answer, but his tongue feels clumsy and thick in his mouth. All he can do is stare as heat rises in his cheeks, hoping the warmth of the sun setting outside the window masks his blush.

Instincts are stupid. Attraction is stupid. He curses himself for still being affected by this after weeks of living in Yeonjun’s room.

Yeonjun’s brows draw together in confusion at Beomgyu’s silence. Then he follows Beomgyu’s lingering gaze to his own bare chest and colons, arms flying up to cross over his torso. “Sorry, let me put on a shirt first.”

Beomgyu clears his throat. “Yeah. You should do that.”

As Yeonjun grabs a shirt from the dresser on the other side of the room and yanks it on, Beomgyu ducks his head and shoves his hands into his remaining pile of clothes. He pulls out socks seemingly at random, balling them up together, trying to gather his scrambled thoughts. The image of Yeonjun shirtless is seared into his mind though, and Beomgyu knows his face must still be flaming.

“Let me guess,” Yeonjun says once he’s fully clothed, “for your nest?”

Beomgyu sticks out his lower lip in a pout. “It’s a natural instinct—”

Yeonjun holds up his hands, still grinning. “I’m the last person who needs to be lectured on instinct. I was just asking. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Beomgyu considers for a moment, then shakes his head. “No, not really. I’m just sorting things for now, not actually building the nest yet. I’ll put everything away in a second and then we can scent mark each other.” The corners of his mouth quirk up as he meets Yeonjun’s gaze.

“Sure,” Yeonjun says with casual ease. “I’ll be… over there.” He jabs his thumb toward his bed, and Beomgyu laughs. Like Yeonjun would be anywhere else.

“Okay, hyung,” Beomgyu says. With a few flicks of his wrists, he zips through sorting the last of his clothes into the appropriate piles. Talking to Kai and sorting his clothes was a fun little distraction, but his impatience is rearing its head again now that Yeonjun is with him.

Beomgyu finishes sorting the last of the laundry and carefully sets aside the piles of clothes. He excuses himself to wash up, scrubbing the lingering detergent scent from his hands. After drying them on a towel, he re-enters Yeonjun’s room, eager to scratch the possessive itch he’s had all day. But Yeonjun halts him with, “Actually, I wanted to talk about some stuff before we do anything. If you have the time.”

Beomgyu plays off the sudden uptick in his heart rate by saying sarcastically, “Does it look like I’m busy?”

“You might not be busy, but that doesn’t mean you want to talk. I know you,” Yeonjun says. Whatever he wants to talk about, it’s serious. Well, of course—they don’t have much in the way of jokes to hand out nowadays. “I was thinking, and…”

“Oh, no.”

Again, Yeonjun doesn’t take his bait. “Do you know how many times you’ve made that joke lately?”

“Not enough times,” Beomgyu says. Yeonjun isn’t as amused. So, joking is off the table. Might as well get whatever this is over with. “What were you thinking about?”

Yeonjun kicks his feet out, crossing his ankles. “Everything coming up.”

“Okay,” Beomgyu says, level. “Go on.”

“We agreed to talk about it like, last week,” Yeonjun continues. He runs one hand through his hair, brushing his bangs away from his eyes in a nervous habit. “What we’re going to do during our cycles. We should talk about it.”

“I’m not disagreeing, but—” How do you even discuss something like that? They could plan all they want, but the chances of them sticking to that plan are slim to none. “What did you want to talk about specifically?”

Yeonjun takes a tense, long breath, then starts, “First of all, we both got tested, so I don’t think we need to wear a condom, but it would be good. Second of all, we should make a schedule to keep each other hydrated. Since we’ll both be out of it—I think it’ll be easier if we look out for each other rather than ourselves. Tapping into that protective instinct or whatever. And then I was thinking we could pick a safe word too, where—”

“Oh my god, hyung,” Beomgyu says, winded just from hearing Yeonjun speak. “I haven’t even processed the first thing you said. Please.”

Yeonjun has enough mind to look sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding apologetic in the slightest. “I’ve been thinking about it all day. Oh, and we should find out what medical supplies we need. And make sure we know how to use them.”

Beomgyu pales. Clearly, Yeonjun has a different idea of how this will go than he does. “Medical supplies?”

Yeonjun sees his expression and he waves his hands furiously, shaking his head. “Not like that. I don’t think we’ll hurt each other on purpose! But—sometimes things can get a bit… aggressive,” he says, speaking slowly near the end. “When both people are in their cycles. That’s what I’ve heard.”

Admittedly, Beomgyu has heard the same. The doctor told them as much during the last appointment they had, albeit briefly; warning them that they should prepare for less romantic sex than they’re used to. Never mind the fact that Yeonjun and Beomgyu aren’t together in the first place.

“I guess,” Beomgyu says. “I’m sure they’ll give us all that stuff.”

“And the condoms?” Yeonjun questions. Beomgyu wishes he could laugh at how serious Yeonjun is about such a ridiculous situation without ruining the mood.

“We can plan this stuff out, but what are the chances we’ll follow it?” Not high. He took the doctor saying the sex won’t be romantic to mean the sex will be crazed and fervent and lacking basic common sense. He automatically assumed that included foregoing safety measures. Not to the point of getting hurt, but not using condoms, yeah. “Of course, we should use them. But… let’s be real. I really don’t think that’s something we can decide on now.”

Yeonjun looks pained as he reluctantly nods. “That’s true, but I still think we should go in with the intention of trying to stick to a plan.” He pauses. “And the safe word?”

“Do you have something in mind?”

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second,” Beomgyu says, petulant.

Yeonjun thinks for a moment, rubbing his fingers against his chin. How is everything he does so… endearing? He should look stupid, being so serious, but his worry just makes Beomgyu feel warmer inside.

“How about ‘crown’?” he decides. Beomgyu hums. It’s a word they’ve used so much in their careers, it seems apt for if anything threatens their enjoyment. “If either of us says it, we at least try to stop right away.”

“Alright,” Beomgyu agrees. “What else?”

Yeonjun’s scent is slightly sour, a little contemplative. Beomgyu is still getting used to discerning his moods through his scent, but nervousness is one thing he doesn’t need to think twice about. Yeonjun makes it so obvious just through his body language alone.

“I hate that your first time will be like this,” Yeonjun murmurs, his voice suddenly becoming quieter. Beomgyu’s heart breaks more for him than himself.

“We don’t exactly have another option here.” It’s not ideal, but it could be so much worse. It could be anybody but Yeonjun, and then he probably wouldn’t feel as reassured as he does right now. “I’ve already come to terms with it, hyung, so you shouldn’t worry.”

“I know we don’t,” Yeonjun says, sighing and closing his eyes. “But you know by now that I won’t stop worrying.” He picks at his nails, a nervous habit, while Beomgyu waits patiently for him to work up the courage to speak, thinking it’s another silly-but-endearing question about the logistics of their cycles. Yeonjun ends up saying the last thing he’s expecting, however. “Last thing. I was wondering if—if you’d feel more comfortable if we tried stuff before our cycles.”

Beomgyu’s surprise steals his words for a heartbeat. “You mean like—?”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun confirms.

“Did you have something in mind?” Beomgyu asks, pulse fluttering rabbit-quick.

“Not really,” Yeonjun says, shrugging with fake nonchalance. Beomgyu can see right through him nowadays. “Just in general. Like, if there’s anything you wanted to try while we’re still coherent. Tonight. Or tomorrow. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“I don’t want you to touch me as a favour,” Beomgyu says, brows furrowing together.

“It’s not a favour,” Yeonjun argues, sounding offended at the very implication. “I just think it might be better if your first time doing something like that wasn’t while we’re delirious. Because for me, I know that—that I always envisioned my first time being a certain way, and—”

“I mean, I’ve never really thought about that kind of stuff,” Beomgyu admits. “So I don’t know how to answer. I can’t miss what I’ve never had.”

He wrote off being in a relationship, even a sexual one, a long time ago. It never bothered him that much. He has so many other things to worry about. He has music, their fans, and nights full of laughing with his members and their staff. He’s always been of the mindset that as long as he can continue those things, romance is trivial in comparison.

And yes, he’s aware of how much that makes it sound like he’s in denial. But he’s not. He never even considered the logistics of sex until an hour ago. Not with himself as the main character.

“Oh, come on. Beomgyu, you’re a twenty-year-old guy. I know you have.”

Beomgyu pouts at Yeonjun’s tone of disbelief. “Why would I? If I let myself think too much about it, it would just upset me. It’s better not to think about it at all.”

“So you’ve never imagined what you wanted your first time to be like?”

“Not in detail,” Beomgyu says. “If you’re looking for a step-by-step instruction on my fantasies, you aren’t going to get one.”

Yeonjun groans. “You can never make things easy for me, can you?”

“Hey!” Beomgyu’s pout grows. “I didn’t ask you to worry about this. In fact, I told you not to worry.”

“And like I told you, what kind of hyung would I be if I didn’t?” Yeonjun muses. “I believe you, I only—I worry that you’re not going to be mentally prepared. Sex can be really overwhelming. Or at least, I find it to be.”

There’s a hint of vulnerability in his voice, an unspoken experience that Beomgyu isn’t privy to, and Beomgyu has to wonder what Yeonjun’s first time was like that he’s so insistent on making Beomgyu’s meaningful.

“I’m not going to be mentally prepared ever,” Beomgyu says, almost apologetically. He feels like he’s letting Yeonjun down in a way—not personally, but like he’s dashing Yeonjun’s hopes and dreams. His dreams for Beomgyu’s dreams. “But it won’t matter once my heat starts. I won’t be thinking about any of this then. That’s why I’m not worried.”

Yeonjun’s expression is doubtful, but he abandons the subject. Beomgyu hopes he isn’t too troubled. Yeonjun watches out for him, and Beomgyu appreciates it—genuinely—but they’re both aware the true concern is what awaits post-heat.

The silence stretches on for a while, and Beomgyu is about to return to his side of the room when Yeonjun clears his throat and asks, “Can we scent each other now? I think I’ll go to bed early.”

Beomgyu sends him a teasing grin. “Going to bed early, hyung? You’re getting old.” But he’s more than happy to slide onto Yeonjun’s bed with him. He’s been waiting for it all day too, so it’s not like Yeonjun is the only one feeling the need.

Yeonjun grumbles, seizing Beomgyu’s wrist. A sharp tug sends Beomgyu toppling onto his back amidst the rumpled sheets.

Beomgyu’s giggles emerge muffled against the mattress. Shifting onto his side, he finds Yeonjun wearing a exaggerated pout—lips primly pursed, brow knitted as if enormously aggrieved. The sight makes Beomgyu ache to press kisses over that sullen mouth until it softens.

“You’re a brat,” Yeonjun accuses. “You’re lucky I think it’s cute.”

They’ve gotten into a good routine with this. Beomgyu doesn’t flinch when Yeonjun descends on him; if anything, he meets him halfway, and his laughter cuts off on a gasp as Yeonjun’s mouth makes its way to Beomgyu’s throat. Yeonjun’s tongue sweeps a searing line up to the hinge of his jaw, testing the waters.

“You smell so good,” Yeonjun mumbles against his skin before placing a soft kiss over the gland. Beomgyu shivers at the feeling, his hands coming up to grip at Yeonjun’s shoulders.

“You say that every time,” Beomgyu says, strained.

“Because it’s true every time,” Yeonjun counters. He continues to scent him, inhaling in deep breaths that make Beomgyu feel lightheaded. But after a few minutes, Beomgyu starts to notice that Yeonjun seems… off. His grip on Beomgyu’s waist tightens and the kisses he places turn rougher and sloppier, like he’s distracted.

Beomgyu can feel the change in Yeonjun’s demeanor, and he starts to worry that something is wrong. There’s a restlessness to Yeonjun’s movements that’s making Beomgyu antsy by association.

“Hyung, are you okay?” Beomgyu asks, pulling away slightly to look him in the eyes. “You seem distracted.”

“I’m fine,” Yeonjun says, his voice strained. “Just thinking about something. Sorry. I’ll get on with it.”

There’s something Yeonjun isn’t telling him. He reaches up to brush his fingers over Yeonjun’s cheek, hoping to reassure him. He can’t think of anything that would be able to permeate Yeonjun’s mind when they’re like this, unless it was about him. Him, as in Beomgyu.

Yeonjun seemed pretty shocked that Beomgyu didn’t think of doing anything sexual before this. From his point of view, Beomgyu could see why he would still be feeling guilty. And if that’s the case—

“Would it make you feel better if we did something?” Beomgyu asks. Yeonjun freezes, mouth open, his teeth barely a hair’s length away from pricking Beomgyu’s collarbones. “Before our cycles, I mean. So that you don’t worry about my first experience being terrible or anything.”

“Beomgyu…” Yeonjun lifts his head. His grip on Beomgyu’s waist tightens to the point where it stings. “No, I don’t want to… do those things just for my sake. What the hell?”

“You don’t need to sound so offended. I’m asking genuinely,” Beomgyu says. He props himself up on his elbows. “It might not matter that much to me, but if it matters to you—”

“I’m worried for you, not for myself!”

“—and if you’re that insistent on it being important and it would make you feel better to—”

“Yah, Choi Beomgyu.” Yeonjun pinches him to shut him up. “What kind of creep would I be if I said I wanted to do stuff with you when you don’t want to do stuff with me?” His cheeks are bright red.

“It’s not creepy if I’m asking you,” Beomgyu says. He knocks Yeonjun’s hand away and then grabs it right after, pressing their palms together. He can feel Yeonjun’s blood thumping underneath his skin, his pulse racing. “Besides, I never said that I hated the idea, I just—”

Yeonjun nearly topples off the bed with Beomgyu still sitting on him. “Huh?”

“Watch it!” Beomgyu hisses, holding onto the side of the mattress to balance them both.

“I thought you said you’d never thought about it before?” Yeonjun asks, all at once, like he’s forcing the words out before he can stop them.

“I meant before all this,” Beomgyu clarifies in a huff. Does he need to explain his whole thought process step by step? Can’t Yeonjun just accept his words at face value? “We’ve known for a while that we’ll be spending our cycles together. Of course I’ve thought about us this week.”

“I—okay. Wow,” Yeonjun says, dazed. Beomgyu chances looking at him directly and finds him staring at Beomgyu blankly, his eyes seeing right through him, lost in thought. “You should’ve said that before.”

“Why? Does it matter?” Does he think Beomgyu is celibate or something? The fact they’re having this conversation at all feels bizarre.

“Of course it matters!” Yeonjun gapes. “I thought I was the only one who…” His voice wavers. “Nevermind. But of course it matters. I don’t want to feel like I’m forcing you.”

“You’re not—” Beomgyu’s head throbs at the implication alone. He rubs the space between his brows. “Yeonjun hyung.”

Yeonjun looks properly scolded at the way Beomgyu says his name. “I’m sorry. Just… it’s hard not to worry so much. It’s a big deal.”

“And that’s why I asked if you wanted to…” Beomgyu waves his hands, vaguely signifying what he means without saying it out loud. Mostly because he wants Yeonjun to decide the limit himself.

Yeonjun makes a face that looks like he’s constipated, and the way his fingers grab restlessly at the sheets answers Beomgyu’s question. He wishes Yeonjun wouldn’t hold back like that. They’re in this together.

“Let’s just do it how we would normally, and we can see where it goes. I didn’t mean we should go all the way,” Yeonjun says, equally as vague. “Is this okay?” His index finger crosses over Beomgyu’s belly button, the palm of his hand landing on Beomgyu’s waist.

“We’re going to have sex in a few days,” Beomgyu says, instead of answering directly.

“It’s a yes or no question, Beomgyu.”

“Yes, that’s a yes,” Beomgyu huffs, tangling his fingers into Yeonjun’s hair and glaring at him. “Obviously. I’m asking if you want to do a lot more than this. Touching my stomach is practically nothing.”

Rather than moving closer like Beomgyu wants, Yeonjun pulls back with a frown. “It’s not obvious,” he says. “I can’t just… do whatever I want and assume you’ll be okay with it because we’re going to do it anyway soon enough. That’s not how it works. We’ve had this conversation before.”

Beomgyu groans, resting his face against Yeonjun’s shoulder. If Yeonjun was less nice, this would be much easier. He can smell Beomgyu’s arousal—that much Beomgyu is sure of—so does he really need to ask?

“Don’t groan at me,” Yeonjun whines.

“I’ll tell you if I want to stop,” Beomgyu says, lifting his head. He stifles a laugh at Yeonjun’s tone. “Trust me, please.”

Yeonjun draws his hand away from Beomgyu’s stomach to cup his face. His hands are softer than normal; they smell like Beomgyu’s moisturizer. It reminds Beomgyu of home.

“Okay,” he breathes out. “Me too.”

“If I didn’t trust you, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

Yeonjun cracks a smile. “True,” he says. “Can we swap positions? I think I’d feel better if…” He slips his hand underneath Beomgyu’s back, bringing him upright, against the headboard of Yeonjun’s bed.

“I thought alphas were supposed to enjoy having their omegas on their backs?” Beomgyu quips.

He’s so used to teasing Yeonjun that it rolls off his tongue easily, but once he registers his own words he flushes slightly. Yeonjun does too, the next pulse of his scent sweetening.

“... We do,” Yeonjun says. He climbs off Beomgyu and pats his lap. “But I, Choi Yeonjun, would still feel better if you were sitting up.”

Beomgyu slides on top of Yeonjun. He likes this position a lot, equally as much as when he’s on his back. Being crowded into the sheets by Yeonjun is nice, but being able to look down on him is nice in a different way. Especially when Yeonjun blinks up at him all hazy, like he’s memorizing the view of Beomgyu—it makes Beomgyu’s chest tighten with glee.

He’s never been good at denying attention. Especially not from Yeonjun.

“What does Choi Yeonjun want to do?” Beomgyu pesters, still teasing him.

Yeonjun must think too hard on Beomgyu’s question though, because he shudders, wrapping both his arms around Beomgyu’s hips.

“I want to kiss you,” Yeonjun says quietly. “Is that oka—”

Beomgyu presses his index finger to Yeonjun’s lips. “What did I say about asking things you already know the answer to?”

Now that’s something Beomgyu knows for sure Yeonjun already knows.

Without another word, Yeonjun leans in, his lips capturing Beomgyu’s in another deep kiss. Beomgyu moans softly, his hands tangling in Yeonjun’s hair as he pulls him closer. Yeonjun’s hands roam over Beomgyu’s body, tracing the curves of his waist and hips before sliding up his chest to cradle his face.

The kiss he gives is slow and sensual, each movement deliberate and measured. Yeonjun brushes his thumb over Beomgyu’s cheek, his eyes soft and tender as he gazes at him.

“You looked pretty today, at the shoot,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

Somehow, that’s the thing that has Beomgyu slicking up. Beomgyu quickly leans in to kiss him again, hoping Yeonjun will be too overwhelmed by it to catch how wet Beomgyu is getting. Yeonjun hums lowly in contentment, rubbing his hands up and down Beomgyu’s sides.

As Beomgyu deepens the kiss, he runs his tongue over Yeonjun’s lips. Yeonjun obliges, parting his lips and allowing Beomgyu entrance to the warm, wet heaven of his mouth. His tongue traces Beomgyu’s lower lip before delving deep, drawing a soft moan as Beomgyu’s hands grip broad shoulders to pull their bodies flush together.

The kiss is all raw impulse, and Beomgyu thinks he would probably do anything right now if Yeonjun asked. Beomgyu was serious when he said he trusts him.

Beomgyu’s cock quickly begins to grow hard, and he shifts without thinking, trying and failing to make himself comfortable with how sticky and tight his underwear is getting. The mixture of slick and the press of his cock against the fabric is making it difficult to breathe.

It’s a big mistake, because the movement allows the scent of his slick to waft into the open air, and they both freeze at the same time.

“Oh,” Yeonjun says, stilling, his mouth wide open like he’s shell-shocked.

Beomgyu’s face burns. It was inevitable that Yeonjun would figure it out one day, but it still stings.

“Sorry,” he says, squirming. That only makes the trickle of slick worse, wetting both their pants more, and he winces. “I can’t help it—”

“No—” Yeonjun tightens his arms around him, not letting him go. “It’s not bad. At all. I don’t mind.”

That’s the alpha brain speaking. “I know you don’t,” Beomgyu mutters. “But it’s still inappropriate.”

“It’s not,” Yeonjun promises. His fingers graze up Beomgyu’s thigh, over top of where his slick is seeping through his sweatpants. Beomgyu bites his tongue so hard that he draws blood. “I like knowing that you feel good.”

“Hyung—”

“I can’t control myself either,” Yeonjun says quietly. He shuts his eyes, exhaling against Beomgyu’s lips. He gently lifts Beomgyu up enough to nudge him further onto his lap, forcing Beomgyu’s leg against—Oh.

He’s hard. Really hard. Beomgyu swallows, his throat feeling unusually tight, and when he breathes in, he’s made dizzy by how strong Yeonjun’s scent suddenly is. He’s not holding back anymore.

Beomgyu’s moan is muffled by Yeonjun’s mouth, and he drags his fingers repeatedly down Yeonjun’s arms, torn between pushing him away and closer. It’s overwhelming, verging on too much, but he also thinks he might die if Yeonjun moves away. He needs more.

If being in heat is anything like this, he has nothing to be afraid of. Not when it comes to the actual heat. He could spend forever like this, listening to the wet sounds their lips make when they touch, relishing in the press of Yeonjun’s teeth against his lips. He can’t imagine it could ever get better than this. This already feels so perfect.

It helps that they’re going in blind together. He would feel worse if Yeonjun was able to stay level-headed and unaffected, but Beomgyu doubts it. For all of Yeonjun’s experience, he’s never spent a rut with somebody before.

The reminder sparks Beomgyu’s possessive streak, the primal part of him recoiling from the idea of anybody else seeing Yeonjun so vulnerable and undone. Just the thought sends his omega into overdrive, and his teeth practically ache with the urge to sink into Yeonjun’s skin and mark him.

That feeling only swells as Beomgyu stares down at Yeonjun, taking in the mussed hair and kiss-bruised mouth. Bruises he left. His palms slide slowly over Yeonjun’s chest and stomach, and a gentle roll of his hips drags a ragged groan from Yeonjun, dark eyes fluttering at the stimulation.

“You look pretty like this,” Beomgyu murmurs.

Yeonjun looked beautiful at today’s shoot, sure, but it’s nothing compared to right now.

Yeonjun groans deeply, going along without complaint as Beomgyu cups his jaw. His thumb brushes Yeonjun’s lower lip, heart stumbling at the soft intake of breath. He leans in slowly, giving the alpha time to pull away, but Yeonjun’s eyes only slide shut in quiet invitation.

His hand slides into Yeonjun’s hair, grip tightening as the kiss deepens. Their legs slide together, and Beomgyu rolls Yeonjun flat onto his back to press him into the mattress again. Need crackles under Beomgyu’s skin, primal instinct urging him to mark, claim. He forces himself to go slow. He commits Yeonjun’s taste and the feel of his skin to memory, hands and lips exploring Yeonjun’s body.

It isn’t enough. Yeonjun’s scent and the taste of his kiss overwhelm Beomgyu’s restraint. His kisses grow more frantic, hands clenching hard enough to bruise as his hips drive against Yeonjun’s.

It feels like nothing can satisfy this craving. Nothing short of being consumed whole by his alpha. He whines, and Yeonjun shushes him like he’s some spoiled, angry puppy. Like he isn’t taking Beomgyu seriously.

He should be. Beomgyu feels as if he’s about to burst.

“I can’t wait to bite you. Right here,” Beomgyu whispers, his tongue lazily licking across Yeonjun’s collarbones. Beomgyu laps up his sweat, salt clinging to the inside of his mouth as his tongue slides over the grooves of Yeonjun’s clavicle.

He should feel grossed out with how carnal he is, but Yeonjun’s scent is intoxicating. Sweat mingled with Yeonjun’s earthy scent and his cologne are sending Beomgyu’s senses into a quick spiral.

“Beomgyu,” Yeonjun says, his hands flying to grip Beomgyu’s waist, his fingertips digging into Beomgyu’s skin with a delicious pressure that just makes Beomgyu want more.

“I want to bite you,” Beomgyu says again. “Want to bite you, and… and…”

The room is dimly lit but Yeonjun’s skin seems to glow, pale and unmarred. Beomgyu licks his lips, getting them wet.

“Beomgyu,” Yeonjun soothes, stroking Beomgyu’s hair with affection. “Calm down a bit.”

Beomgyu doesn’t want to calm down. What he wants is to indulge the part of him that’s clamouring to bite Yeonjun, the one that’s wanting and wanting and wanting.

“Hyung,” he moans, on the verge of doing something reckless. His skin feels like it’s on fire. His fingers dig into Yeonjun’s sides in an attempt to ground himself. The only thing he knows is his alpha—his scent, his touch, the pulse of his veins under Beomgyu’s teeth. He whimpers.

He knows he’s going a little crazy, but at the same time, how can he stop? How can he stop when Yeonjun is right here, with his arms around Beomgyu, every note of Yeonjun’s scent screaming mate?

“Beomgyu-yah,” Yeonjun whispers softly. He gently rubs Beomgyu’s shoulders in a soothing gesture. “Calm down. It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.” His voice rumbles against Beomgyu’s ear, low and steady, overwhelming Beomgyu’s frazzled thoughts with its soothing cadence.

The tension bleeds out of Beomgyu’s body as he goes pliant in Yeonjun’s arms, anchored by his alpha’s warm strength. He inhales deeply, exhales in a long, shaky breath. The world comes back into focus, the irrational urgency that gripped him minutes before fading as his senses tune in to the here and now—the familiar scent of Yeonjun surrounding him, their legs tangled together, the sound of the air conditioner running in the background.

Beomgyu’s rigid grip around Yeonjun slackens, hands sliding up to cup Yeonjun’s face instead, seeking comfort in his tender smile and half-lidded gaze. “There you are,” Yeonjun murmurs, nuzzling against Beomgyu’s palm, “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

“I’m sorry,” Beomgyu says all in one breath.

It feels like if he can’t reach Yeonjun, see and touch and scent him right then, his heart will stop dead—the same as the day they found out they’d bonded, his mind frantic and senses screaming for Yeonjun without space for any other thought. And it’s the same bone-deep shame that crashes down upon him after, the frenzied neediness and loss of control leaving him embarrassed and rattled.

“Don’t apologise. The doctor told us this could happen. Omegas can be prone to intense emotions, and maybe with the—with the effect of the pill...” Yeonjun trails off, but his unspoken words hang heavily in between them. The pill hasn’t even gone into effect. He brushes his fingers through Beomgyu’s hair gently. “Let me help?”

“How?” Beomgyu says, voice quivering. He’s too scared to move and make things worse. His mind is consumed with images of him marking up Yeonjun’s neck.

“Let me touch you,” Yeonjun says. He’s already touching Beomgyu, of course, but his hand dips further downwards to grip Beomgyu’s thighs, and Beomgyu understands.

“Okay,” he breathes out.

His heart hammers as Yeonjun’s hands slide under his shirt, tentative yet seeking. His fingertips trace Beomgyu’s waist, brushing feather-light over a nipple to wring a gasp from kiss-bitten lips. He arches into the sensation, pulse racing, and meets Yeonjun’s gaze to find it dark with restrained heat.

In answer, Beomgyu loops arms around Yeonjun’s neck to tug him close and swallows the groan that slips free at the length of them pressed together.

“Yeonjun,” Beomgyu gasps, back arching into the tease of fingers circling, squeezing tender skin. He’s already half-hard in his sweats and dampness pools on his thighs as Yeonjun’s mouth finds the mark on his neck to suckle a bruise that’ll fade tomorrow.

It hurts and soothes all at once, protective instinct and pleasure twining deep in Beomgyu’s belly, and he whines high in his throat at the swell of it.

“I’ve got you, Gyu,” Yeonjun soothes against the reddened skin.

Beomgyu melts against him in agreement, lashes fluttering as Yeonjun’s hand slips lower to curl around his cock through fabric—and lower still to dip between his thighs, groan rumbling at what he finds. “So wet for me already. My perfect omega.”

Beomgyu breathes deep of the air between them, senses alight with the mingled scents of his own slick and Yeonjun’s arousal. His alpha’s scent is all smoke and spice now, the bite of it sharpening when Yeonjun gathers some of Beomgyu’s slick on his fingers. He can tell the instant Yeonjun’s restraint begins to fray from the shift in his scent alone, his own pulse racing at being the catalyst.

To be wanted with such intensity, as if he’s air and Yeonjun is starved for him, is unparalleled. If kissing was a massive step up from scenting, then this is another world entirely.

Yeonjun leans in, breath scalding Beomgyu’s ear. “God, Beomgyu, you’re so wet,” he says, like he’s marvelling at him.

Beomgyu whimpers, back arching as Yeonjun’s fingers finally slip into his pants and wrap firmly around his cock. Yeonjun’s touch overwhelms him, sparking flashes of pleasure that leave him reeling. He struggles to catch his breath as sensation whites out his vision, intensity bordering on too much. And still he craves more, wants everything Yeonjun will give him.

This is too many new sensations at once for him, and Yeonjun must sense he’s close to being overstimulated. His grip goes slack, letting Beomgyu rock up into his hand at his own pace rather than being stroked over the edge. The ease of pressure helps Beomgyu pull back from the knife’s edge, regain enough coherence to meet Yeonjun’s gaze. Yeonjun checks in without words, waiting for Beomgyu’s readiness to continue or stop. Beomgyu rolls his hips up again, chasing Yeonjun’s touch.

The endearment slips past Beomgyu’s lips without him thinking, “Alpha...”

Yeonjun surges forward to kiss him deeply, his tongue exploring every inch of Beomgyu’s mouth. Beomgyu moans into the kiss, his hands gripping Yeonjun’s shoulders as he tries to hold on.

“Yeonjun,” Beomgyu gasps, breaking away from the kiss. “Please, I can’t—”

Yeonjun shushes him gently, placing a finger on his lips. “Shh, it’s okay,” he whispers, his hand still moving steadily. “I’ve got you. Just relax and let it happen.”

Beomgyu nods, his eyes closing as he focuses on the pleasure coursing through his body. Yeonjun leans in closer, his lips brushing against Beomgyu’s ear as he murmurs words of encouragement, telling him how good he feels, how much he wants him.

And god, does Beomgyu want him back. His alpha.

The tension in Beomgyu’s belly grows tighter and tighter, his body on the brink of ecstasy. Yeonjun can feel it too, and he quickens his pace, stroking Beomgyu harder and faster than before. His calloused palm rubs against the crown on each pass, wringing ragged cries from Beomgyu.

Trapped between Yeonjun’s hand and stomach, the pleasure takes a sharp edge. Beomgyu can’t stop his restless hips, chasing more, and Yeonjun speeds his pace to nearly punishing. His free hand clenches Beomgyu’s hip, pinning and exposing him to each twist of wrist threatening to undo him.

The scent of Beomgyu’s slick grows fever-sweet, dampness slicking Yeonjun’s fingers as they dig half-moons into his thighs.

“Yeonjun, hyung,” Beomgyu cries out, his body shaking as he feels himself getting closer to the edge. “I’m going to—”

“You’re so perfect, so beautiful when you come undone for me.” Another kiss presses behind Beomgyu’s ear, tender and claiming. “I can’t wait to do this all weekend. Fuck. I’ve got you, Beomgyu—”

Beomgyu’s hands clench white-knuckled in the sheets as he works himself between Yeonjun’s fingers, pleasure cresting higher with each gasp and broken cry until his rhythm stutters and he spills hot over their joined hands.

The world blacks out, narrowed to his release, and it’s only as rational thought trickles back that Beomgyu registers he’s being cradled close—Yeonjun praising him softly, stroking his hair and sides, patient as he comes back to himself.

Nestled in Yeonjun’s arms, contentment sinks into Beomgyu’s bones. The memory of Yeonjun’s fingers still whispers over his skin, his body echoing with the mapped feeling of Yeonjun’s touch. That sensation, a living imprint, fades slowly, and he has to blink a few times to remind himself he’s still awake.

“Better?” Yeonjun asks, once Beomgyu’s vision has cleared. Beomgyu nods, his neck stiff and tense.

“Let me…” he pants, struggling to catch his breath. He reaches for the drawstring of Yeonjun’s pants.

“There’s no rush,” Yeonjun soothes even as his breath hitches beneath Beomgyu’s seeking fingers.

Beomgyu refuses to wait. He feels like he could pass out at any moment now, but he needs to do this before then. His hands are clumsy in their haste to free Yeonjun’s cock. It’s around the same size as his, flushed an angry red, but Beomgyu doesn’t waste much time staring at it. More importantly than how it looks, it’s hot and heavy in his grip, the silken skin sliding as Beomgyu strokes experimentally. The first glide steals a bitten-off curse from Yeonjun, lean hips jerking to fuck into his fist.

Satisfaction lights in Beomgyu at reducing Yeonjun to this—debauched, dark hair a mess against the pillow, eyes squeezed shut in bliss. Beomgyu drinks in the details, wanting to commit Yeonjun’s unravelling to memory. He wishes he was more awake to enjoy it, but that’s okay. Like Yeonjun said, they’ll have all weekend at minimum.

It takes only a minute of fast, twisting strokes before Yeonjun is coming, Beomgyu’s name tearing free of kiss-bitten lips. Beomgyu practically preens as Yeonjun’s release settles between his fingers, marking them both.

 

Surprisingly, Beomgyu wakes the next morning without panicking over what transpired between him and Yeonjun the previous night. Touching Yeonjun seems insignificant compared to the intensity of their upcoming cycles, and Yeonjun was right that the experience helps steady Beomgyu’s nerves. As overwhelming as their cycles will be, at least he has some idea of what to expect now.

What doesn’t fade with the light of day is the burn of possessiveness in his gut. Beomgyu blames the uncomfortable feeling wholly on pre-heat—why else would irrational jealousy flare when things are relatively optimistic? It’s irritating that his body can’t fall into line with his emotions.

Their final day of preparing involves strategy meetings to ensure things run as smoothly as possible over the next week. The three other members plan a series of livestreams to keep fans occupied, and they arrange for an episode of their reality show to be uploaded ahead of schedule.

One of the doctor’s staff relays to Beomgyu and Yeonjun with a plethora of staff and their members sitting awkwardly at the table with them, “You’ll be picked up at nine tomorrow and brought to your heat hotel around ten. The room will auto-lock by midnight when your cycles start, so call your managers only if it needs to be unlocked early.”

So they’re essentially being imprisoned for the good of others. Beomgyu grimaces at the thought, but he understands the necessity. If their room was unlocked, the instinct-driven haze of heat would have them bolting at any perceived threat or upon sensing an unfamiliar person walking down the hallway. These secluded hotels exist to give people a secure space to ride out their cycles with absolute privacy.

“Okay,” Yeonjun says. He’s avoided meeting anyone’s eyes for the past hour, expression schooled neutral though his ears flame red. “What else?”

“Your managers have informed the hotel of your dietary preferences,” she confirms with a glance at their manager, who nods. “So you should be well-stocked for the weekend. If your cycles run longer than expected, additional food will be brought to you. We can determine specifics if that occurs.”

“Okay,” Yeonjun echoes faintly.

She continues, “There will also be toys—knotting dildos and the like—in case either of you becomes too exhausted to assist the other, or for variety.”

Beomgyu stares fixedly at his shoes. He can’t bring himself to check Yeonjun’s reaction.

“And of course, a first aid kit will be provided,” she says, “including a tranquilizer, should it become necessary to subdue one of you.”

Beside Beomgyu, Yeonjun freezes up. Beomgyu suppresses the urge to snap at her tactlessness, clearing his throat instead. “We get it.”

The nurse rattles off a list of guidelines for their cycles—don’t bite the scent glands on the neck, bite elsewhere if needed, the collarbone is a good place; use protection when possible and inform somebody if they don’t; hydration and nutrition are essential, and so on. Beomgyu thinks the bulk of her advice could have been provided in written form rather than spoken in excruciating detail.

“That’s everything, I believe.” Either she fails to sense their mortification or doesn’t care. “Your managers can answer any remaining questions. Otherwise, good luck to you both. I’ll see you next week.”

With that, she exits. In her wake, Kai snickers, “A knotting dildo, huh? Wonder if you get to keep it.”

“Shut up, Kai,” Yeonjun snaps. “... We won’t need any of that stuff anyway.”

Kai gasps theatrically, and Beomgyu elbows Yeonjun in the stomach. Hard.

“I really didn’t need to be here for that,” Soobin bemoans.

“I agree,” Beomgyu mutters.

He notices physical signs of impending heat when he wakes slick with sweat the next morning, his inner temperature far too high. Yeonjun helps him gather nesting materials and other necessities. Despite the haze stealing over his thoughts, Beomgyu insists on bringing their laptops in case lucidity allows. Yeonjun seems doubtful but relents.

By evening, Beomgyu struggles to rise without nausea rolling his stomach. He meets Yeonjun’s gaze, finding his own fever-bright eyes reflected there, and knows they’re running out of time.

The other three members see them off, maintaining a careful distance given the pheromones pouring off Beomgyu and Yeonjun. Beomgyu feels a twinge of guilt—then a wave of dizziness washes it away. Staying upright is challenge enough without fretting about everyone else.

“Please keep us updated,” Soobin requests, rubbing his hands together. “Message the group chat whenever you’re lucid.”

“We will.” Beomgyu aims for reassuring, though in his current state he’s not making any promises. All that matters to him right now is reaching sanctuary before his legs give out and heat overtakes him completely.

The van’s compartment separates them from the driver, padded and matte black—ideal for occupants on the verge of their cycles. Yeonjun burrows into Beomgyu, face tucked against his shoulder, for the hour-long ride. Beomgyu strokes Yeonjun’s hair and breathes his scent in like a reprieve. In, out.

There’s some kind of scent neutralizer in the van that helps him maintain enough clarity to function, but intermittent flashes of heat spear Beomgyu’s gut. Slick gathers, his muscles seizing, and terror swamps him—he’ll soak the seat, they’ll crash, he’ll come undone. Or that’s what it feels like. The sensation passes but the fear remains, a waiting dread. They can’t arrive soon enough.

Yeonjun groans into his shoulder every so often, digging his nails into his thighs, and Beomgyu squeezes his arm in a way he hopes is reassuring and doesn’t make things worse. He honestly can’t tell.

They’re ushered to the hotel through a private entrance. The staff move with efficient care, familiar with assisting vulnerable celebrities. Beomgyu’s hazy awareness notes their discretion as he and Yeonjun are brought to their room on what seems to be the least-trafficked floor. He wonders how many others are here right now—if they’re the only occupants or if there’s dozens of heat-dazed people below them.

He shouldn’t have thought about that. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from moving in on Yeonjun with the staff still around. If there are other people in this hotel, he’s going to leave Yeonjun so covered in his scent that people will mistake him for the omega. Everybody will know they’re together.

It’s so dumb, because the whole point of them being here is that nobody knows they’re here, but it sounds right in his head.

A lone staff member delivers their belongings, offers a hushed goodbye, and locks them inside. An hour’s worth of tension gets relieved from Beomgyu’s shoulder at once.

“I need the bathroom first,” Beomgyu says. “I need to... wash my hands.”

He does not need to wash his hands. What he needs is half a second away from Yeonjun to accept that he’s about to go into heat. This is the last chance he’s going to get.

“Okay.” Yeonjun’s tone is taut. “I’m going to take the scent suppressants off.”

“I’ll do that too,” Beomgyu says.

Beomgyu quickly washes his hands in the bathroom. As he does, even just briefly touching himself to adjust his clothes makes him shiver with need. His heat is coming on faster than he expected. Last night he felt relatively normal, and now it’s like he’ll rip his own skin off to get to Yeonjun faster. The draft from the vent above prickles his skin with goosebumps. His body feels like it’s floating away from him.

He tears the scent patches off, chucking them into the garbage carelessly. He doesn’t care if he irritates his scent glands. Yeonjun can soothe them now.

Fuck. Yeonjun will be able to touch him properly now. Just briefly remembering Yeonjun getting him off two days ago makes Beomgyu’s whole body flush with want. Flashes of Yeonjun’s hand around his cock, his fingers around Beomgyu’s waist, all the little whines he gave when Beomgyu touched him, and this time Beomgyu is blessedly wide awake to hear them.

He pulls away from the sink to find himself shaking uncontrollably. Only once he’s confident he can move without giving in to the urge to touch himself for some relief does he open the door back to the bedroom.

The scent of arousal permeates the small space, evidence of Yeonjun's deteriorating control. Beomgyu takes a deep breath and holds it for a count of ten. On the exhale, he steps out. Yeonjun sits facing the window, his back to Beomgyu. Yeonjun’s scent envelops him, stronger and headier than it’s ever been. The sweetness of it makes the insides of Beomgyu’s mouth ache like he’s eaten too many candies. It’s his favourite flavour, but it hurts at the same time.

“Hyung,” Beomgyu says through the haze clouding his mind. He wants to say I think it’s starting or I didn’t realise rain could smell this much like sugar, but the words won’t form. Instead, he stumbles onto the bed and against Yeonjun, wrapping his arms around Yeonjun’s torso.

Beomgyu was right about one thing: he has no capacity for shame left in him. When Yeonjun turns to face him slightly, Beomgyu sees his eyes are clouded too. They’re in the same boat.

“Come here,” Yeonjun pleads, patting his lap.

Beomgyu slides onto him, hands coming up to cradle Yeonjun’s cheeks. “I’m here,” he whispers, breath catching as he leans in to kiss Yeonjun. “I’m here, hyung.”

Notes:

i had a very long author's note here before, but i am changing it in may to be a little more succinct haha

i quit twitter and am taking a break from writing for txt, but i swear on my life i will finish this fic eventually! just please be patient and understand writing this story is very difficult for me compared to other fics, so it will take a little longer