Chapter Text
Chan hesitates at the door to Jeongin's room. He knows they've talked about this, knows that Jeongin wants this with him– but it's still hard.
He's used to not needing anyone. When he presented as a beta he thought it was kind of perfect, in an ironic sort of way. He'd learned, by then, to only rely on himself. (Back then, he lived his life thinking that everyone always leaves, in the end.) As a beta he wouldn't have that deep longing for an alpha to soothe his heats; he wouldn't have that alpha need to claim the people he loves and keep them close. He could just exist, untethered and alone.
At least, that's what he used to think. Before he met his pack.
Now he knows that's not true. Minho is the least possessive person he knows, even though he's an alpha; Seungmin sometimes spends his heats alone when they're busy and he doesn't want to be bothered by any over-eager packmates. Changbin, his fellow beta, is the clingiest person he's ever met in his life.
And beta or not, Chan would do anything to keep them by his side.
He's come to terms with it. With all of it– his status as the leader of this pack even though he's a beta; his need for the others that runs through his veins like fire sometimes. The fact that he's dependent on them for some things now, and that's okay.
But this… this is still taking some getting used to.
Jeongin has always been a little outspoken; a little too comfortable nagging his hyungs. It's partly their fault, of course– they spoil him and listen to his nagging with fondness and laughter. Their little prince, their maknae on top.
And now, their baby alpha.
The change was subtle. Jeongin is still respectful, and he's always polite to people outside of their pack. But ever since he presented, his usual habit of nagging his hyungs to take better care of themselves comes with a little extra alpha oomph– a flash of his scent, or a touch of physicality behind the words, like his hand on the small of their back or resting on their shoulder.
The first time it happened to Chan was a few months ago. He'd been in the studio, working (as always), when Jeongin knocked on the door.
"Everyone else has gone home, hyung," he'd said, his voice tired but strong. "I have a car waiting. Come home with me."
"Later," Chan had said. Like always. "I need to finish this up."
Instead of just saying okay and heading home on his own like he usually would, Jeongin stepped into the studio. His bright, citrusy scent filled the small room as he walked the few steps to Chan's desk and pressed a kiss to the top of Chan's head.
Chan was so startled he nearly knocked over his drink.
"Hyung," Jeongin said again, "come home."
Even newly presented as he was, Jeongin's alpha was compelling. His scent and the raspy timber to his voice made Chan's legs feel strangely weak, and before he could clear his head, his hand was halfway to closing his laptop.
"Hey," he protested, laughing a little too loudly to cover up his heart thumping in his chest. "Don't use your alpha on me, Iyen-ah."
Jeongin didn't look chided in the slightest. "If you listened to me, I wouldn't have to!"
They'd laughed about it then. But when Chan was home that night, alone in the darkness of his room and sleep eluding him as always, he couldn't stop thinking about how nice he'd felt. How easy it was to give in to one of his pack alphas; to let his body go all fuzzy and his mind full of nothing except his alpha's voice.
Minho had never tried anything like that with Chan– the two of them met when they were both already presented, so their dynamics haven't changed much over the years. And Hyunjin doesn't really have the inclination to assert his alpha over anyone, much less their leader.
But Jeongin… Jeongin.
That night he'd been too embarrassed about his feelings to do anything about it. But as time went on, he could tell that Jeongin knew.
"I just wanna take care of you," Jeongin had complained one night, grumpy and petulant on the small couch in Chan's studio on yet another late night. "Hyung, you never let anyone take care of you."
Chan was tired, and Jeongin's sour, hurt scent made it hard to keep his composure. But he tried. "Innie, that's not your job. You're–"
"It is my job! Forget alpha or beta or whatever– I'm your pack, hyung! And you're mine, and that means it is my job. And I want to. So why won't you just let me?"
"I…"
Chan tried to be strong. He really did. But he was so exhausted, and ever since that first night, his body had been craving that boneless release of submission, and it was getting harder and harder to say no.
And Jeongin could tell. "I have six other hyungs who can take care of me, Channie-hyung," he said softly. "But who takes care of you?"
And that time, when Jeongin breached the distance between them, Chan finally didn't resist.
That was a few weeks ago, now. And although they haven't been as busy as they usually are– they've actually had a few breaks recently– that makes it almost worse for Chan. When they're busy, he hardly has time to think beyond what he has to do next. But when they have downtime and all of the members visit their families, Chan starts to feel a little lonely. Homesick for Australia and the sea.
"Hyung?"
The door opens, even though Chan didn't knock. Jeongin is standing on the other side, in baggy shorts and a slightly crumpled tee, his hair sticking up in places. He looks like home, and Chan already feels like floating. "Were you sleeping?" Chan asks, because he's him and he has to give Jeongin an out, just in case he wants to take it.
Instead of answering, Jeongin catches Chan by the wrist and pulls him into the room. Chan stumbles into Jeongin's arms and he relaxes almost instantly, face pressed into Jeongin's chest. When did he get so tall?
"Hi," Jeongin mumbles into Chan's hair. "I missed you."
Shit.
He's already melting. His arms wrap around Jeongin's waist, and he feels uncomfortably clingy but doesn't give in to that anxious voice in his head that tells him he should pull away.
"How was your break?" he mumbles into the fabric of Jeongin's shirt. It smells a little musky, like Jeongin has been wearing it since yesterday. Chan breathes in deep.
"Are you smelling me?" Jeongin laughs.
"Shut up," Chan says, not meaning it.
"Cute, hyung. You missed me that much?"
And Chan's scent must have turned sour, because Jeongin is pulling him back to look him in the eyes. "Hey, I was just teasing. Are you okay?"
It hurts, just a little, because Chan did miss him that much. Jeongin can joke about it, but Chan is aching inside. "I just– I mean, can we…" He trails off, not sure how to bring up what he wants. He's asking their maknae, for fuck's sake. "What you said, the other day."
He can feel his face go red. But before he can convince himself he's being dumb, being clingy, Jeongin is surrounding him again, pressing his nose against Chan's neck.
"Of course, hyung. Whatever you need. Just tell me."
How is he supposed to put it into words? I want you to love me. It sounds stupid even in his head. I want to let go and be taken care of and not have to be responsible for anything for just five minutes. "I– I just–"
"Okay, hey. You're okay," Jeongin soothes. "I've got you." His arms tighten around Chan's body, and the pressure makes it easier to breathe. "How about we lie down? And you can tell me about your break."
Chan nods, not trusting himself to speak. He has that feeling in his throat he gets whenever he tries to hold back tears, all tight and swollen. If he ignores it, maybe he can keep it inside.
Jeongin's bed is a jumble of messy and unmade shades of gray. There's a ball of discarded tees and socks wadded up in the corner, but the sheets are still warm from Jeongin's body and Chan crawls beneath them. He instantly relaxes– it's like he's adding himself to the ecosystem of Jeongin's life, fitting himself into the cracks and corners.
Maybe if he's small enough– if he spreads himself into enough places, fits himself into too many hidden nooks to be pulled out– maybe he can stay forever.
Jeongin burrows under the covers next to him and coaxes Chan into his favorite position, limbs all koala'd around Jeongin and face buried in his shirt. He pets Chan's hair, and Chan can tell he's pumping out pheromones. It makes Chan's body feel like floating.
"Well?" Jeongin prompts gently, nudging at Chan with his toes under the covers. "How was your break?"
The thought drags Chan back down to earth and he frowns. Usually he wouldn't tell the truth, but… "Not good," he admits in a mumble. "Kinda lonely."
Jeongin's arms tighten around him instantly. "Hyung," he says sadly, and for a second Chan wants to push him away. He hates being pitied– hates it– but Jeongin's scent and his hold and Chan's own rationality pushes the dark impulse away as soon as it comes. This isn't pity, it's love.
"I finished a few songs, though." Chan lets out pheromones of his own, trying to soothe Jeongin's flare of protectiveness. They're not nearly as strong as an alpha or an omega can throw, but he knows Jeongin will be able to sense them. Chan tries to believe what he tells his pack– that it's okay not to be okay sometimes. That's what this feels like. He was sad, and a little lonely and a lot stressed, but his pack is back and even if he's not okay right now, he knows he will be.
"That's good," Jeongin hums. He kisses Chan's head again, and keeps his lips pressed there. "You're doing so well, hyung. It must have been so hard with everyone gone, right? But you worked so hard anyway. You did so well."
The words, even simple as they are, make the held-back tears spring to Chan's eyes.
It's not like he needs validation. He knows he's talented, knows he's working hard, he knows all of that.
But what if he wasn't?
Would he still be worthy of love, if he wasn't any of those things?
"Innie," he whispers, forcing out the words past the lump in his throat, "what if… what if I–"
Jeongin strokes his back and waits for Chan to go on. He doesn't force Chan to hurry up, or try to put words in his mouth. Chan has always loved him for that.
"What if I didn't– couldn't– make anything g-good anymore?"
"Everything you make is good, hyung."
"No, that's– what if I just didn't? What if I stopped, if I didn't make anything, or I couldn't– if I couldn't do any of it? Be an idol, or anything?"
The words are jumbled and childish, but he can't think clearly enough to put his thoughts– his fears– into words. His fears that he's carried with him since he was a child, in a country he didn't know and a language he could barely speak. Being rated on every single thing he did, always being told he needed to be better, to do better, or he would never be good enough to debut. Everything he does, every day, is just trying to be enough.
"Channie-hyung." Jeongin's voice is fierce, with all the fire of his alpha behind the words. Chan shivers with the intensity of it, spellbound–
"You don't have to do anything for us to love you."
And just like that, Chan is at once both broken down and rebuilt. It feels like a giant tidal wave has just crashed over the walls he's built up over the years, breaching his defenses and flooding through him. It tears through all of his hidden places, finding even the deepest and darkest of them and washing them clean.
When the wave finally recedes, he feels pink and raw. Fragile, but… in a good way. In a way that feels like the love of his pack and the deep alpha resonance of Jeongin's voice, and long, sunny days spent at the beaches of his hometown, skin humming with warmth long after the sun sinks below the clouds and slightly scratchy with sand.
"Say it again," he whispers. Quieter than a secret, but Jeongin hears him anyway.
"We love you just for being you, hyung. I love you. Even if you didn't make music, or write lyrics, or go to dance practice. Even if you quit. I would still love you, no matter what. Always." Jeongin scoots down so they're nose-to-nose, and looks at Chan with his sparkling feline eyes. "You don't have to earn our love, hyung. That's what being pack means."
As he says the words, Jeongin brushes his thumb against Chan's mating bite. It fills him with an ache, deep in his bones, that resonates and hums with the echoes of the seven people who put it there.
Jeongin doesn't say anything when the tears Chan has been holding back for so long finally spill over. He just holds Chan closer, and every so often he says it again, his alpha voice low and scratchy and filling up all of those hidden places inside of Chan that until today had felt empty and dark.
"We love you, hyung. Just as you are. And we always will, no matter what."