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Minho walked down the hall, slippered feet softly padding against the floor. The dorm was having a quiet morning, Felix and Jeongin at the recording studio to go through their new lines; their scents lingering in the air. Minho had finished his morning workout in the living room, stopping his last rep once his alarm rang at 10am. Usually, around this time, all the members of the cuties dorm would be up, the last dregs of sleep falling off. Sleep early, wake up early was the motto around this house.
But. There was one more birdie that had yet to leave the house. Usually Seungmin was up at the same time as Jeongin, the two inseparable like two yolks in an egg.
Minho made his way to Seungmin’s door, ready to drag his dongsaeng out of bed if need be. Minho froze, caught by the realization that he’d never been in Seungmin’s room. There was some weird unspoken rule between him and Seungmin about the other boy’s room. He’d enter after practice and close his door, he’d shut it even if he just ran down to the kitchen for his snacks.
(With his other dongsaengs, him coming into Felix’s or Jeongin’s room to drop off cut fruit was normal. Or them coming into his room to rob something from his closet for their nests, or just to talk to him was not out of the blue.
Long story short, there was a sort of barrier between them.)
God, the silence from the bedroom was too loud.
Minho called out, “Hey, Kim Seungmin! It’s 10. Wakey wakey!” When the silence continued, Minho carefully opened the door and peeped his head in. Typical Seungmin room. Dusted shelves with books carefully stacked. His pens were disorganized around his desk though, a diary shoved in the corner. Candles were on his windowsill, flame extinguished, which is where Minho assumed that the lemony-sweet smell was coming from.
Minho made his way to the bed in the corner, where Seungmin was sleeping in a bundle of blankets. Seungmin was an omega, but this was the first Minho would ever assume that something the boy made was called a nest. The alpha crossed the room until he stood at the head of the bed. Seungmin’s glasses laid on the nightstand unfolded. The clock on the stand moved forward a minute.
“Seungmin…” Minho whispered, leaning over the omega's nest. Seungmin didn’t even twitch. Minho flicked the boy’s nose. That caused a twitch. “Seungminnie?” Minho asked, raising his voice a little higher directly into Seungmin’s ear, who only pulled his face deeper into his wall of pillows. Minho rose up until he wasn’t directly in Seungmin’s face, and he could take the time to look at the boy’s flushed cheeks from the warmth of the blankets smothering him.
Minho reached over to pull the first blanket from the boy’s chest, while calling out, “Kim Seungmin!”
And Seungmin flinched hard, his eyes snapped open and he shot up straight in his bed. His eyes roved around the room frantically, locking in at Minho before looking away. His breaths were coming in shallow gasps.
Minho stayed where he was, peering down at Seungmin’s face, blanket slipping from his grasp to land back in Seungmin’s lap. “Seungmin? It’s just hyung–”
Seungmin’s eyes returned back to Minho’s face, cheeks still flushed from sleep, before it quickly paled. “Get out.”
“What?”
“You’re not supposed to be in here. Get out.” Seungmin snarled, hands fisting in the blankets.
Minho rose from where he was bent over before slowly backing up a few steps, still unsure of what went wrong. “Okay… okay… I’m going. Good morning, by the way!” He felt the doorknob dig into his back.
Seungmin threw a pillow smack into his chest across the small room, before kicking away the blankets and pillows that had surrounded him. He stumbled his way across the room and gripped Minho’s shirt collar, glaring, “Don’t you dare tell anyone what you saw in here.”
“Fine! Not that there’s anything here–”
The omega reached behind Minho’s back to push open the door. He shoved Minho out of the room before slamming it shut with a growl.
The lemony candle had long turned sour as Minho was left to stare at the door in shock, trying to process what had just happened.
—
Seungmin has a reputation among his fans. He’s a level-headed omega, beta-passing if you didn’t know him. He can’t blame them, being raised with traditional alpha parents and an older alpha sibling sort of isolated him in his childhood. Whenever he had omega problems, his family would sniff and act like they didn’t hear him.
So, the band knows he’s an omega. The fans know he’s an omega. Seungmin’s not hiding anything. He’s just been taught to repress himself.
It’s why he treated nesting as a dirty secret, unable to claim it like the other omegas. He uses scent blockers religiously. He had come back from a long day of schedules and had the deep urge to make a nest. And he made a nest and passed out so hard he didn’t even notice an alpha entered his room. Minho entering his room the other day ripped him from his calm headspace. He regrets lashing out; his hyung is acting suspicious around him. But he can’t find it in him to feel sorry.
The moment Minho left, Seungmin destroyed his nest. He threw his pillows back into the back of his closet and put his folded blankets back there as well. It hurts. He can feel a headache building. He hasn’t even brushed his teeth yet.
Seungmin leaves the room; Daengmo, the sole survivor of his rampage sits unassumingly on the stripped bed.
—
Minho returned to the living room, putting away the weights and rolling up his yoga mat. He heard the bathroom door open and shut, and a few minutes later the shower turned on.
He sighed, tying the knot around the mat and stood up, feeling his muscles stretch after his workout. Minho made his way to the kitchen, shoving pots out of the way until he wrapped his hand around a pan to fry an egg for the top of his rice.
Minho was taking visceral satisfaction in dragging his chopsticks through the still-runny yolk of the egg and mashing it all up with a face of glee. There’s footsteps coming behind him, before the fridge opens and closes.
Seungmin crouches down near Minho’s legs in front of the dishware cabinet,“Hyung, move.” He pulls the cabinet door, to no avail, when Minho just leans his weight against the door.
Minho looks down; Seungmin’s wet hair flopping into his eyes. “Answer one question…”
“No,” Seungmin cuts him off real quick just as his hand comes up to the center of Minho’s knee before spreading his fingers apart like a spiderweb.
Minho’s leg kicked away on reflex, giving the little sneak enough room to grab a small bowl from the cabinet. “Sleep with one eye open, Kim Seungmin,” threatened Minho to Seungmin’s hoodied back.
Seungmin tipped the box of chocolate puffs into his bowl, grinning, “I always do, hyung. Can’t catch me.” He busies himself with meticulously folding down the bag of puffs and clipping it on both ends, before following Minho to the dining table.
‘I caught you this morning.’ was rrrright on the slip of Minho’s tongue, but he’s nothing but a good hyung who listens to his dongsaeng’s thinly-veiled threats, so he holds it. His face is probably purpling at the edges right as he thinks.
So, Minho sits at the cuties dorm dining table. A stark contrast to other dorm who eat individually, in This One, if all of them are in the house, all of them are eating together. Maybe it has something to do with Minho being the only alpha in a house of omegas in contrast to Chan, who was the sole omega in a dorm of alphas.
Minho sits at the right corner of the table, the one with the window view, with his back towards the kitchen, and Felix usually takes the seat to his left. Jeongin sits across from Minho, back towards the wall, but also with the window view. Seungmin, who had second dibs after Minho, takes the seat diagonal to him. Seungmin sits next to the hallway that leads into their individual rooms, but has a view into the living room’s television, because he’s nothing if not a good boy who realizes that he shouldn’t be eating on the sofa and watching his baseball games at the same time. What Minho’s trying to get at, is that from this vantage point he can stare at Seungmin from the corner of his eye without making it seem like he’s directly gawking at him.
He doesn’t look any different. Maybe he’s more fidgety than normal. The sleeve on his right is pushed back to grip his spoon, while his left one is currently in Sweater Paw mode. Call Minho endeared or whatever, but if Seungmin keeps up his sweater paw antics, he’s literally going to explode into a bazillion pieces. His mouth is pouted, chewing his chocolate puffs in silence. Chocolate puffs? Wasn’t he eating the rainbow cereal last week?
“Hyung, do I have something on my face?” Seungmin asks. Turns out Minho’s side-eyeing has turned to become full-on staring. He dabs a napkin from his hoodie pocket, because of course he has tissues in there, what doesn’t Seungmin have in his pockets? Sometimes, his pockets are like an abyss, Minho thinks. Always providing things for others. Wow. He’s rambling. This egg is powerful.
“Yeah, you do actually. There’s a mud stain you forgot to wash out,” Minho deadpans, “He he he.”
Seungmin returns his stare, not blinking, “Ha ha ha.” Silence overtakes them. Minho sits with an empty bowl, fiddling with the grocery news, as Seungmin slurps up the remnants of his milk.
When Seungmin makes to stand up and put his dishes in the sink, Minho reaches over, “I’ll wash. You clean the table, yeah?”
It’s nothing unusual. It’s how the dorm usually runs. Minho cooks, one of bokseungah go up to help him, depending on the dish. One sets up the table and another tidies up the kitchen and brings the dishes to the table. And at the end, someone washes, someone cleans the table, another wipes the kitchen down, and someone takes the trash out. It’s a perfect balance.
But that’s usually when there’s more of them, when there’s a buffer between Minho’s pinch and Seungmin’s pull. Seungmin keeps a hand on his bowl, looking very suspiciously at Minho. He relents, eventually, giving it to him, “Thanks, hyung.”
“Mm.”
Minho turns on his heel to the sink, turns on the water and begins washing. He hears the snap and shut of the disinfectant wipes as Seungmin swipes the table down. The lemony smell of the wipes filled his nose.
His phone vibrates in his pocket, probably a reminder that their manager was coming to get them for Dekira. Minho dries his hands, calling out to Seungmin who’s crossing the kitchen to throw away the wipe, “Hey, get ready. Manager-nim coming soon.”
Seungmin, busy washing his hands, replies, “I’m in the groupchat too, you know.”
“Did you know that dogs know when they’re going to go on a walk when they see a leash and shoes by the door?”
“Did you know that I make your coffee?”
“And it’s a wonder I haven’t died yet.”
Aaand, now it feels back to normal. Whatever tension that had existed at the dining table had fizzled out by now. They haven’t acknowledged Seungmin’s nesting in the room. Which. Bothers Minho that Seungmin freaked out about it. It’s not unusual for omegas to get defensive about alphas entering their rooms, but for Seungmin to threaten him not to tell anyone what he saw in there, was the strange part. Nesting’s normal. Helps omegas calm down and establishes a safe space. That’s what he garnered from articles and what Chan-hyung says. So that’s that.
His thoughts had never been so loud, but he’s packing his duffel bag with the things he needs for the day of schedules: Dekira and then dance practice for the new choreography.
Minho gets into the living room, where there’s a cup of coffee on the table. Their manager is waiting on a spare chair, flipping through pages in his mini notebook. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
“I’m ready, too!!” Seungmin calls out, power walking into the living room, his own cup of coffee in hand. He gives a quick glance to the cup on the table and Minho before saying, “Hyung, that’s for you.”
It’s always been his. But Minho is a very polite hyung who does nothing but wait until his dongsaeng says that it’s his, because who knows Seungmin? One day, Minho will walk into the living room and take a sip of coffee that he assumes to be his, but then Seungmin will immediately proclaim that it’s for his greatest enemy of All Time which means it’s poisoned , but it’s too late because Minho just took a gulp!!! He’s a great hyung that predicts!! One step ahead of the game.
They make their way out of the living room, closing the blinds and locking the doors. Seungmin’s cup is in his right hand and Minho’s in his left. “It’s good,” remarks Minho after taking a dramatically-delicate sip.
“Yeah, I put my spit in it.”
“Mhm-mmm mmm,” says Minho, for the hell of it, taking another sip.
—
Dekira’s going nicely. It usually does. Something about the new atmosphere makes Minho act nicely with Seungmin, even if sometimes it feels faux-nice. The fans eat it up every time. Whatever.
Seungmin’s feeling hot, stuffy. He’s glad that the chairs provided to them are the spinny ones, because it gives an outlet for his energy. It’s not enough, but it’s something. It’s just anxiety though. Probably. He’s been feeling nervous that he’s going to run out of suppressants and the pharmacy’s not going to have any in stock. He should make a call soon.
Seungmin refuses to take off his hoodie, though. He knows once he takes it off, he’ll be cold. So, it’s better to keep it on. He’s just staking it out until the break. Seungmin grabs his script and taps it against the table.
He tunes back in, catching YoungK’s eye, before wrapping it up, with an announcement that they’ll be back in fifteen minutes!
Seungmin stands up to stretch and when the red blinking of the camera has stopped, he whispers to Minho, “Hyung, check me.”
Male omegas don’t get periods, but there’s been instances where he's leaked slick from nerves. When his nerves are bad, he can’t tell if he’s really sweating or leaking. It’s embarrassing. More embarrassing than admitting that he nests. But Minho had seen his nest, the one he fervently hides. So, he sucks it up and asks him.
And Minho doesn’t even flinch, he just leans back on his chair to sneak a quick look, “You’re fine.”
A wave of calm rushes through Seungmin; Minho’s such a good hyung. Good alpha, his brain traitorously supplies, but Seungmin shuts that train of thought down real quick.
Seungmin tugs his coat down, though. Just to be sure.
—
The show wraps up smoothly enough. They do their ending skit, bow to the staff and YoungK and thank them for their work today. The two do Mandated selvas together, which come out cute enough that Minho doesn’t threaten to jureumi-ify his face.
They make their way to the parking lot, Minho dawdling enough that Seungmin manages to sneak in and get the seat right behind their manager. Minho clambers smoothly enough, clicking the button so the door slides shut.
It’s when Minho pulls up the partition between them and their manager that Seungmin begins to sweat.
Minho utters the horrible words: “We need to talk, Kim Seungmin.”
Seungmin tries to ignore him, sinking into his seat and throwing his head back, “Honk… shoo… mimimimi…zzzz.”
Minho blinks nonplussed, he’s been through this before. It reminds him awfully of when he gave the alpha 00z The Talk. Jisung and Hyunjin had folded within each other. This is funny. He’s gonna burst out laughing. “Kim Seungmin, we need to talk about this morning.”
Seungmin stops snoring, and opens a “sleepy” eye, “No, we don’t. I told you to forget about it. Nothing happened this morning.” Seungmin doesn’t know why he’s running away from this topic. This talk of… nesting. He literally asked Minho to check him earlier. Minho supplies the omegas with slick pads in the restroom for their pre-heat. He provides his alpha scent during their actual heats. Seungmin doesn’t know why it’s so weird to talk about blankets and pillows. “I don’t know why we have to talk about this.”
“Seungminnie,” Aw man, he dropped the Kim, Seungmin bemoans internally. Minho plows on despite his red ears, “I’m sorry I entered your room without asking, but I was getting worried about you.”
“I’m not mad about that,” Seungmin interjects, avoiding eye contact.
“Is it…” Minho lowers his voice, finally following Seungmin’s cues, “…about your nest? ”
“…It’s complicated.”
“Yeah, I figured,” Minho lets a small smile of relief flood his face. “It’s good to nest. Relieves the bad emotions.”
Seungmin’s face is darkening, “I know that.” His scent would be souring if his scent blockers were off.
Minho’s eyes are searching Seungmin’s closed-off face, before hesitantly throwing out a question, “Are you ashamed of it?”
Seungmin closes his eyes and heaves a great sigh. It’s a while before he responds, long enough Minho thinks the omega fell into an angry sleep.
They stop at a red light.
“You won’t judge me?” asks Seungmin, in a hesitant voice, rough around the edges.
Minho turns his attention from the window to Seungmin. It breaks something in him that Seungmin has to confirm this. “Of course not, Seungminnie.”
Seungmin pinches the bridge of his nose, but keeps his eyes closed as he begins, “After I presented, my family didn’t treat me any differently. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad they didn’t kick me out for being an omega, but no one exactly helped me through this,” with this, he gives a sweep down his body. “Anything that was similar to an alpha, they talked to me about. So scent blockers and suppressants. That’s it. The one time I nested, I had taken some pillows and a spare blanket from the guest room. It was nice. I never slept so well.” The crease between his eyebrows relax, but Minho’s never been more tense, waiting for the shoe to drop.
Seungmin continues: “Anyway, my dad came into my room and woke me up. It smelled bad. He smelled bad. Took down the blankets and called me… some stuff. So, yeah. That’s it. I haven’t properly nested back there ever since. And I normally don’t do it so openly at the dorms, I was tired last night—“ His voice cracks at the end. Why are his eyes hurting?
“Oh Seungminnie,” whispers Minho, his voice so soft. Seungmin’s heart is halfway to breaking. “I’m so sorry, honey. Hyung didn’t know. Can I hold you?”
Seungmin shakily nods, tears now running down his face from reliving the memories? Stress?
Minho quickly unbuckles his seatbelt and moves into the center seat, buckling himself in again, but maneuvering his arms to hold Seungmin. He strokes Seungmin’s back, whispering into his ear, “You can nest at home, okay? There’s nothing shameful about it. Hyung won’t step into your room.”
“I don’t mind you. In my room, I mean. Or in general, hyung. I was just scared, I guess, of what you’d think.”
“Do you talk to the other three, at least?”
“I don’t really like talking about this…”
“I figured,” Minho huffs, glad that Seungmin’s sniffling has slowed in its frequency.
Seungmin takes a deep breath, the kind of breath that comes in the interlude of a breakdown. “Anything else you want to ask while we’re here?”
The car slows to a stop, their manager entering the parking lot. Minho says, “No, not right now. If you need hyung’s help for anything, I’m here okay, Seungminnie? Don’t forget that.”
Seungmin begins to pull out of Minho’s embrace, “Okay, hyung. Don’t worry about it, though.” The car stops and Seungmin tacks on, “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me for stuff like this.”
—
A few days later. (spongebob voice play over :))
—
It’s a quiet afternoon, Minho is happy to report. The day is winding down as the sun is making its slow transition from sunny afternoon to a cool evening. Felix had left to catch a flight for an event of his, which left Jeongin and Minho to lounge on the sofa; Jeongin going over his lines, Minho looking over a recorded video of his practicing. Seungmin’s in his room, he’s been in his room a lot lately. On time used to mean early to Seungmin, but lately on time is looking a lot like five minutes late.
The two of them hadn’t held another conversation like the one in the car. Once their manager opened the car door, Seungmin had walked past Minho into the company building and shook Jeongin in greeting before sitting down to change his shoes. They didn’t even talk unless it was Minho pointing something out in their choreo. It’s not to say that things went passive, there was just… no dramatic change.
I should be more loose at this part, Minho thinks back in the present, switching to his notes app to jot down the time and thoughts.
Seungmin storms out of his room, mouth curled downward. Minho has a sort of theory, but he swears Seungmin’s mood can be indicated by the fluffiness of his hair. Like an actual puppy. Now with his hair flat, it has no personality.
“Innie,” Seungmin leans over the arm of the couch and clutches onto the arm of his only dongsaeng, whispering into his ear. In his anxiety though, his voice comes a little loud, loud enough for Minho to hear across the small room, “My lovely dongsaeng, come to the pharmacy with me.”
“Now?” Jeongin asks, tearing his eyes away from his paper. “Right now?”
“Yes, right now. Well, not right right now. I guess I could wait. Soon, though. Soon. Please?”
“Hyung, I can’t, I have to go wrap up the recording in half an hour, and it’s due in three days,” and coming from Jeongin, who's attached to the hip with Seungmin, his soft decline is as close to a ‘no’ as he gets, “Can’t you go by yourself?”
Seungmin stares at Jeongin for a few seconds before shaking his head and giving up on whispering, blurts out, “No??? I can’t? Omega code, dude!”
Minho’s keeping his eyes on his phone, but ears on the conversation. Yeah, he lives with three omegas, and he’d figured that the three of them talked about their own stuff. But to learn that on top of the bathroom code, skz-separation-anxiety code, the omegas had their own code? Less surprising than he realized.
“U- uu- uuhh,” Minho’s voice cracks, “Do you want me to go with you?”
Jeongin and Seungmin both snap their gazes to him before turning back to each other.
“It’s fine. He’s just hyung.”
Just hyung. Yeah, he’s just hyung. The Best Hyung! Just the best.
Seungmin’s lower face is hidden behind his sweater paw, so Minho can’t gauge his facial expression, “It’s gonna be weird.”
“No, it’s not. It’s gonna be fine,” Jeongin whispers back to him.
Seungmin relents, dropping his paw, “Hyung, can you come with me?” Because he phrases things like that. Even if Minho were to drop a statement confirming everything, Seungmin would find a way to rephrase it as a question to get another confirmation. Maybe it’s something to do with his inner control freak. He doesn’t know, he just wants to help.
“Yes,” he confirms again, patiently. “I’ll drive?”
The two youngest snap a glance again, before Seungmin says, “Yes, that’s fine. Thank you.” He gets up from the sofa’s arm, “One hour from now, okay? I gotta make some calls.”
“Yup,” affirms Minho, settling back into the cushions.
Seungmin violently ruffles the hair of Jeongin, before skipping away, “Bye, Innie.”
“Not cool, bro. Not cool,” huffs Jeongin, running a hand through his hair to settle it back down. Eventually he leaves for Chan's studio, too. And now it’s just Minho going through choreo and Seungmin making phone calls in his room.
Minho switches from his photo app and sets a time for a thirty-minute nap.
—
Minho wakes up with a weight on his stomach and his phone blaring on the floor. He blearily fumbles to pick up the phone, while keeping a hand on the omega so he doesn’t fall off. Minho picks it up and taps the Stop button before placing it on the coffee table where there’s a bag of McDonalds and an empty french-fry carton.
Seungmin’s nursing soda from McDonalds, probably Sprite like the menace that he is. He’s scrolling through his phone, nonplussed at Minho’s waking.
“Did you leave some for me?” Minho cracks, his voice rough from his nap. God, post-nap clarity is crazy. He’s sweating.
Seungmin pockets his phone and places his Sprite down, “Yeah. Gave it an extra punch, too. Just the way you like.”
“Lovely,” Minho groans. His hand is still resting on Seungmin’s hip. He pulls it away gently before rubbing both hands over his face, giving a final yawn. “Is there an appointment? Do I have time to take a shower?”
“No, yes,” says Seungmin, who makes no move to get up from Minho.
Minho blinks at him. Seungmin blinks slowly back, a grin creeping up his face. “Up, puppy,” Minho orders.
Seungmin stands up long enough for Minho to swing his legs off the sofa, stretching himself like a cat. Seungmin plants himself down on the sofa, and Minho realizes that the boy has already changed into an all-black ensemble, loose jeans, loose hoodie, bangs that are also just drying.
“Is it the usual pharmacy?” Minho asks.
Seungmin stops his nibbling on a McNugget to answer, “Umm… no. It’s a different one. 20 minutes away.”
“Okay, that’s not too far,” says Minho, “we’ll go after I shower, okay?”
“Mm,” answers Seungmin, avoiding eye contact, socked feet rubbing softly rubbing against each other.
Minho finishes quickly enough, rubbing his scent blocker over his throat glands. As Minho pulls on his own black hoodie, Seungmin unwraps the burger and shoves it into Minho’s face, “Hyung, eat please.”
How can he resist his sweet omega’s demand like that? Minho takes a big chomp before finishing the burger in the minutes it takes Seungmin to pull his shoes on.
Minho quickly throws the trash away, and opens the door for Seungmin.
They leave their dorm, using a back alley, hoodies up and faces covered, walking briskly to the underground company parking lot, where it houses personal, company cars. The lot reserved for Stray Kids is near the back and the pair walk past the group vans until they make it to a smaller vehicle. Minho walks to the passenger side to open that door for Seungmin before settling himself into the driver’s side.
Silence overcomes them, Seungmin’s leg is jiggling. Minho pulls out his phone, unlocking it and putting it in Seungmin’s hand, “Put in the address.”
“Cute background, hyung,” Seungmin snorts, looking at Minho’s cats all piled on top of each other. He quickly types in the address and passes it back, “Here.”
As the car warms up, Minho pulls up the directions. Exit here, turn right here… “Okay, got it,” Minho confirms before turning on the active guide and letting Siri do her thing.
Seungmin leans back in his chair as Minho exits out the parking lot. He looks both ways before exiting and entering the street. Now that Minho is getting in the groove back, if he focuses enough he can smell a lingering lemon scent from Seungmin. It’s fresh and cool. “Do you like lemon scents?” Minho ventures out to ask.
“Sorry?” Seungmin turns his head to Minho.
“Lemon scents? Do you like them, Kim Seungmin?”
Seungmin raises a hand to scratch his neck, “Um. You smell that?”
“Yes?”
Seungmin flushes, tugging his hoodie closer to his neck. He squeaks out, “Hyung… that’s my scent.”
Oohhh. Ohh no. He can’t have another breakdown in a car. “It smells nice, Kim Seungmin. You smell nice,” Minho slowly says.
The car positively blooms in lemon juice, so sweet it’s making Minho’s mouth dry. No wonder he wanted to go so soon, Minho thinks, keeping an eye on the speedometer. Seungmin remains quiet, a blush stubbornly makes itself home on his face.
Seungmin, clearly fumbling for some control, breathes out, “I’m gonna go in there and pick up some pills and blockers. It should be fast.” He gives a quick glance at Minho, “Come in with me?”
“Of course,” Minho responds.
They're pulling out of the freeway exit, and Seungmin points out the backdoor the store supplies, for discreet situations like his. Seungmin plows on, “I’ve never been here before.”
I’m nervous, is the underlying message. “I’ll be right here,” assures Minho as he puts the car in park and pulls the key out. “Ready?”
“Yeah,” Seungmin says shakily, “Nice and quick.”
From the back, there wasn’t much of an indicator of what the store would look like. But from the inside, it seems less like a traditional chain-pharmacy, but more like a traditional-granny-owned store.
“Hello boys,” a voice calls out from behind the register. It comes from a fluffy head of gray, confirming Minho’s suspicions that it’s granny-owned.
“Hello, ma’am,” they both bow to her.
Seungmin steps up the stand and pulls out a piece of paper, “Could I pick these prescriptions up?”
Minho is hovering and looking at some of the products, Ginger-ale candy, cinnamon candy, gummies for fert— yeah that’s it. He’s far enough to give Seungmin an illusion of privacy, but close enough that the omega knows he’s there.
There’s a tug on his hoodie sleeve, he turns and is met with a blushing Seungmin, the red dusting high enough that it peeks over his mask. “Hyung, I’m done,” he shakes the black bag and the rattle of pills comes through.
“Wanna look around?” Minho gestures around at the apothecary.
Seungmin looks around the aisles, eyes lingering on the markers that give an indication on what lies ahead. “Uhh… yeah… I have some stuff I could get here,” he mumbles.
Minho steps aside and gestures for Seungmin to lead the way. Seungmin takes a hesitant step forward into one direction before going into the other, “This way.”
They move past some aisles, Seungmin occasionally peeking behind his shoulder to make sure Minho is following him. Hey, it’s not his fault their cat toys had a silent bell at the end!! Seungmin turns left and slows down to look at the products. Pheromones / Nesting says the aisle indicator.
“This is the one we have at home right?” Seungmin asks, crouching down, holding up a small green box that contains a scent-blocker stick.
“Yup,” answers Minho, bent over to examine the labeling. Seungmin puts the box down at the front of its row and reaches into the back to grab two containers. Minho bends up again.
They’re going slower in this aisle, Seungmin obviously scanning the products, and Minho dutifully follows along, not in a rush to hurry the omega up considering the emotional vulnerability he’s being exhibited with. They stop in front of the nesting half of the aisle, Seungmin’s scent perking up where they have weighted blankets.
“Did you want to get one?” Minho asks because Seungmin is just holding a staring contest with the blankets.
“...”
Minho reaches over to pry the containers from Seungmin’s grip, the packaging warm from Seungmin’s body heat, “Here, I’ll hold these.”
Seungmin immediately latches onto the deep green one with a clover pattern, “oof,” he says, surprised at the solid weight of it, despite its name being a dead giveaway.
Minho’s existing somewhere between content and anxious. He’s glad Seungmin trusts him enough to have him here by his side, but at the same time, there’s an itching in his brain that something’s going to go wrong. He’s worried Seungmin’s going to have a bad reaction? To him? Nesting? If his omega cries again, his alpha is going to be crying right alongside him.
“5.5 kilograms?” Seungmin mumbles, “good enough? Hyung, is 5.5 good? I think it’s good.”
“If you think it’s good, then it’s good, Seungminnie.”
“Okay,” Seungmin accepts before moving to tuck it under his arm.
Minho sneaks a hand there first, pausing before grabbing it, “I’ll hold it for you,” he takes it, ignoring Seungmin’s raised eyebrow. “I saw some snacks, did you want to get anything?”
Seungmin’s giving him the stink-eye now, “You’re being sus.”
“What does that even mean??” groans Minho. Honestly, the gamer aspect of bok-ah is influencing Seungmin too much.
“Nothing,” he adjusts his mask over his nose. “Snacks?”
“Yeah, to the front of the store.”
This time, the two of them are walking side-by-side. Something must’ve settled in Seungmin by now because his scent has taken on a honey-like tone alongside his main lemon scent. The apothecary is quite stocked with modern-goods, despite its more vintage interior.
“Hyung!! There’s the caramel pudding you like from Japan!” Seungmin exclaims in front of the clear doors in the freezer section.
“Grab a basket, Seungminnie, it’s on the company card,” Minho conspires, his evil smile taking over.
Seungmin throws a salute, leaving Minho gaping at the audacity.
Minho does take down a pack of the pudding, though. As well as the melona bars that the omegas are so fond of.
Seungmin returns with a basket that has some sour gummies and hot cheetos tossed in there already. “I. Uh– got distracted,” is the lame excuse Seungmin throws out when Minho gives him a knowing glance as he deposits the chilled food, as well as the scent-blockers and Seungmin’s prescription bag.
Seungmin reaches into the basket and shoves things apart to make a clear separation between food and medicine.
“Sure, Seungminnie,” Minho fondly rolls his eyes before taking the basket from Seungmin, “Anything else? I’m not looking to grocery shop around here.”
“Juice? Peach juice. But it’s near the check-out, so if there’s nothing more you want to get, we can go.”
“Let’s go.”
They make their way to the self-checkout. Seungmin swipes the items through before putting them in their bags they brought from the dorm (skzoo-themed!! Stay would be jealous). He stands to the side while Minho swipes the company card and the payment is processed.
It’s quick. The two of them work in sync. Seungmin takes the automatically-printed receipt, goes over everything twice before shoving it into one of the bags. Minho grabs the bags with the snacks, knowing Seungmin would prefer being able to hold the bag containing his prescriptions and other items.
They make their way to the back of where they came from, bowing to the smiling granny who wishes them a good day. They wish her a good week.
As they leave the store and enter the parking lot, they realize that the sun has begun to set, casting a beautiful glow through the city. If Jeongin were here, Seungmin and him would probably be having a photoshoot right now. But they can’t do that here, stays and their stalkerish skills would be able to pinpoint the location down to which lot they parked in, and he’s not ready to risk it all like that, yet.
Minho settles into the driver’s seat, putting his bag between Seungmin’s legs. There’s plenty of room in the passenger seat, so it’s a normal occasion. “Okay, my passenger secretary. Put the address back to the dorms,” he gives his unlocked phone to Seungmin,
“Yes, sir!”
—
It’s comeback season. They’re pulling late-nights filming music videos and performance videos and pre-planned dance practice videos and– and– the list goes on and on. They’re busy. Bombarded from all four corners.
Seungmin’s tired. He’s been daydreaming between sessions about going home and nesting in his blankets. He has yet to use his weighted blanket, but he’s going to do it. Tonight. Yes. After talking with Minho (more like breaking down), he’s found it easier to initiate skinship with the members. He jokes that he’s gonna gnaw on Changbin’s biceps and turn Jeongin into soup. He applies less layers to his scent glands – enough that it’s still fit for work, but light enough that it could easily be mistaken for perfume.
He saddles up to Minho, aware of the distracted skz-talker cameras that currently have Jisung hostage in an interview. “Hyung,” he whispers, “Can you come to my room tonight?”
Minho’s eyes, the brown obscured by the gray contacts, turns his head, “Yeah, of course.”
He’s such a good hyung. It’s a frequent thought that’s flooding his brain. The divorced concept had simmered down on camera that it appears to be a couple struggling to rekindle their lost flames through the log of bickering and torch of nagging. Off camera, there’s no word around it, but Minho is sweet. He really is. Sweet beneath his devious exterior.
Seungmin’s heart hurts, sometimes, thinking about his hyung.
—
Seungmin’s putting the finishing touches on his nest. Daengmo is sitting in the corner of his bed, against the wall. The blinds are closed. The only light is coming from a Pochacco nightlight that Jeongin had gifted him.
Seungmin runs to the door when he hears the three-tap knock. Alpha! His mind perks up, omega instincts taking over when he’s in this calm headspace.
“Hi, Seungminnie,” Minho greets. And Minho looks good. Way too refreshed-looking for someone who came from a grueling twelve-hour shift of filming. Seungmin leans in closer into Minho’s space, taking a small sniff of Minho’s scent. And, it’s as good as he remembered. A fresh breeze going through grass. He takes a big lungful before remembering that they never discussed… scenting tonight. He takes an aghast step back, “Sorry, alpha. Hyung. I didn’t mean too–”
“It’s okay, Seungminnie. Can I come inside?” Minho asks. He’s such a good hyung. Seungmin doesn’t even know anymore. That sentence has been popping up with more frequency lately.
Seungmin steps aside for Minho before closing the door behind them. Jeongin and Felix are in the living room, booting up the switch for a pre-sleep game. Minho enters the room and finds it in a similar state, like two weeks (?) ago. In here, Seungmin’s scent fills up every crevice of the room. His glasses are folded, and there’s their newly released albums on his music shelf.
Seungmin steps into his closet, pushing aside the rolling carts to pull out pillows and blankets from the back. He tosses them onto the bed, pushing Minho to sit. “Hyung, scent these please.”
Minho easily obliges by sinking into Seungmin’s soft nest. He grabs a small blanket and rubs it against his scent glands thoroughly, making sure to coat it in his spring breeze smell before draping it across Seungmin’s pillow, so when the omega sleeps, he’ll be surrounded by Minho.
The nest is comfy, making it seem roomy while also acting as a pseudo-protective wall. Seungmin comes out of the closet, clutching his weighted blanket. He sheepishly admits, “I haven’t used it, yet.”
Minho makes grabby hands for it, and Seungmin has the impulsive urge to chuck the blanket at Minho’s face, but he doesn’t really wanna go to the hospital today so he plants it carefully in Minho’s lap.
Seungmin climbs in between Minho and the wall, lifting the layers of his comforter and quilt to put the (freshly-scented) weighted blanket underneath it all. “Hyung. Cuddles?”
“Yeah, baby,” obliges Minho, easy as ever for his omega, that the name slips out accidentally. The omega smells content and Minho has never felt so relaxed. “Your nest is nice.”
Seungmin giggles, a wispy thing, “Thanks, hyung. I do my best.”
And it’s nice. Really nice. The only source of light is coming from Seungmin’s little night light, positioned behind his book shelf, so the room is dimly lit, but the light isn’t blaring directly in their faces. And the weight of the blankets— Minho’s so glad that the granny supplies weighted blankets. He might just get one for himself. And he doesn’t feel hot? Cozy, but he’s by no means overheating. And Seungmin, he smells so nice. His lemon scent has that honey undertone that Minho has grown to love. Warm lemon-honey tea.
Seungmin clears his throat, his finger fiddling with the cat paw pendant of Minho’s necklace, “Thank you, Minho-hyung. For all of this.”
“Oh, Seungminnie,” he runs his hand through Seungmin’s fluffy hair. Every passing day is more evidence that his early theory is correct. Seungmin’s bangs are everywhere all around the world. “Don’t thank me for this.”