Chapter Text
Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.— William Shakespeare (excerpt from Sonnet 116)
The distinct ring of clashing metal echoes throughout the courtyard as swords come to blows. Two familiar figures parry and lunge, chasing each other across the well-trodden sparring grounds of Jeon Manor. The sun is bright overhead — both participants drip with sweat, but neither the heat nor the slipping grips on their weapons will deter them from finishing this. They withdraw and circle each other slowly, sizing up how much stamina their opponent has before deciding the next strike.
It’s Jeongguk who swings first, yelling as he brings the thin practice blade down in a swift arc. But Jimin sees it coming from a mile away: with an agile grace, he side-steps and raises his own sword to intercept the blow against the flat of his blade, then slides it forward until their hilts are interlocked. With a sharp tug, Jeongguk’s sword falls from his hands and from there, Jimin simply flicks his wrist so the blunted tip of his weapon neatly pressed up against the alpha’s throat.
Jimin smirks as Jeongguk’s surprised expression morphs into confusion, then resignation.
“I win again, Lord Jeon.”
The omega’s lilting voice is only slightly smug as he withdraws his sword from Jeongguk’s skin, scooping the younger man’s disarmed blade off the ground and holding it out. Jeongguk takes the proffered weapon back with a long-suffering sigh.
“Just once, Jimin. One win. That’s all I ask for,” he groans. “I’ve lost over a hundred matches at this point, can’t you at least go easy on me?”
It makes Jimin giggle to hear his friend deliberately whine like this, especially since he supposedly hates being treated like a pup. He’s always let out his brattier side around Jimin, though, making Jimin comfortable enough to respond in kind.
“I believe you’d think rather less of me if I did, my lord,” Jimin teases with an exaggerated bow. He sheathes his sword and places it back on the rack with the other training weapons. Then, he gingerly takes a clean scrap of linen from the basket left for this exact purpose and blots his face free from sweat. Jeongguk forgoes a rag and instead lifts up the edge of his own tunic to wipe his forehead dry.
Jimin flushes bright pink and averts his eyes immediately. Hopefully anyone observant enough to notice his blush will attribute it to exertion instead of the brief glimpse of Jeongguk’s bare, chiseled chest.
“I’m starting to think rather less of you right now, with that miserly attitude. Aren’t omegas supposed to be open of heart and generous of spirit, or some other such nonsense? Shouldn’t you have more pity for us lesser beings?” Jeongguk flashes him a shit-eating grin as they make their way across the courtyard.
The assorted staff and servants of the Jeon household bustle about as the two of them continue their banter, everyone busy with preparations for the planting season. Still, they at least acknowledge the pair with a smile and a greeting of “my lord” or “Omega Park”. Seeing Jeongguk and Jimin together is a common sight for them — the pair have been inseparable since Jimin was taken in by the Kims nearly two decades ago, newly orphaned after a devastating fire consumed the Park estate.
He had been terrified of nearly everything in his new environment, too young to understand why he was now living with strangers and crying nightly for his parents to come back. Only upon meeting Jeongguk, the precocious, permanently-eager heir of the neighboring family’s estate, did he begin to break out of his shell. Neither the Jeons nor the Kims would ever forget the day they first heard the peal of Jimin’s bell-like laughter, after a frantic search for the children ended with finding the two of them in the stables playing with a new litter of barn kittens.
(They were both scolded fiercely for evading their governesses and running off, but neither family could bring themselves to separate the pair by confining them to their individual estates; instead, Jimin was permitted to take lessons with Jeongguk at the Jeon Manor until his subgender presentation and then went to join their older son, Kim Seokjin, at a finishing school for omegas.)
By the time they cross the garden that serves as the boundary between the Kim and Jeon estates, Jeongguk has given up on a wheedling pity from Jimin and is instead trying to cajole the omega into a competition he’s more likely to win.
“…and really, I haven’t had a good race in ages! Let’s go riding tomorrow, I’ll even let you choose from one of my horses. Please? I know how much you crave the briskness of the fresh air on horseback.”
Jimin swallows. It’s the moment he’s been dreading. His heart is heavy with the knowledge that there will be no more horseback riding, no more fencing, no more comfortable afternoons spent in each other's company. He’s been unsure how to break the news to Jeongguk for the last several days — but if he doesn’t take the chance now, they’ll part ways without even a real goodbye.
He takes a deep breath and looks Jeongguk straight in the eye.
“As much as I’d love to beat you at your best sport,” Jimin jokes weakly — for the Jeon clan had long been famous for breeding the fastest horses in the kingdom, and Jeongguk had learned to ride almost before he could walk — “I’m afraid I’ll be traveling to the capital tomorrow with the rest of the Kims. We won’t be returning for quite some time.”
“Oh, I see.” Jeongguk looks a little put out, but follows it up with a more cheerful question of, “Are you going to visit Taehyung and the other Kim cousins? Perhaps I could join you?”
Jimin wills his expression and scent to stay neutral despite the swirl of emotions filling his chest, a thorny weight pressing against his ribcage. “No, Jeongguk. I’m going to participate in the courting season this year.”
Jeongguk’s reaction is instantaneous.
“You’re going to the capital for the Season? Why on earth would you do that? You’re too young to be mated, far too young! Don’t tell me Lord Alpha Kim is shipping you off against your will?” Jeongguk rants loudly, his scent sizzling with irritation. The smoky aroma of burnt sandalwood fills the air. Jimin wrinkles his nose and tries not to sneeze.
“Lord Alpha Kim isn’t forcing me to do anything, Jeongguk,” he responds as calmly as he can, his own pheromones releasing in response to Jeongguk’s anger. The alpha’s shoulders relax by a fraction of an inch, but his countenance is still upset.
“Then why? I don’t understand!”
Jimin’s voice is quiet as he answers. “I’ve just decided it’s time. I presented nearly 5 summers ago, and most omegas debut within a year of their first heat. I’m long overdue for this, if you think about it. ” His tongue feels wooden as he relays the rehearsed words.
Of course Jeongguk doesn’t understand why Jimin is doing this. That’s the reason he has to go, after all.
There’s only so long you can spend every moment beside the person you’re painfully in love with, knowing that they will never return your feelings. Eventually, it would drive anyone to seek a means of escape.
Jeongguk scoffs, brows still furrowed in anger. “That’s nonsense. Omegas who participate fresh from presentation aren’t from noble families, they mate early because they can’t afford to wait. You’re a descendant of one of the oldest houses in the kingdom, and you have the Kims to support you – why should you have to go before you’re ready?”
“I can’t depend on their generosity forever,” Jimin replies, turning away from the alpha to look at the Kim House. It hurts to see the familiar facade of his childhood home, knowing that tomorrow he’ll be leaving it behind – but it hurts more to look at Jeongguk’s face right now. “And I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. More than that, I just…I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
“You’re never alone, Jimin,” Jeongguk says immediately, an automatic reflex. “You have me.”
It’s an oft-repeated phrase between them, a promise that Jeongguk first made when Jimin was 10 years old and plagued by horrendous dreams. He’d wake in the middle of the night, screaming for his parents and sobbing at the memory of his first home going up in flames – and Jeongguk would be right there, taking his hands and drying his tears and repeating that he wasn’t alone.
The sleepovers stopped after they both presented, but those words — that particular refrain — have always remained.
A shadow passes over the omega’s face as he reflects on his own selfishness, wondering when Jeongguk’s platonic promises from childhood started causing more pain than comfort.
“Only until you find a mate of your own, my lord,” he reminds Jeongguk gently.
They are no longer children, after all.
Jeongguk scoffs and they argue back and forth for a while longer. The alpha becomes increasingly incensed while Jimin just wills himself not to cry until finally they part ways.
When the omega eventually does succumb to a fit of sobs later that night, he tells himself this will be the last time he sheds a tear for Jeon Jeongguk. He packs up the last of his luggage and locks his heart away as well, determined to have no regrets about his attempts at courtship when he does return home again.
And when Jeongguk doesn’t show up to see him off in the morning, he tells himself it’s for the best.
The royal palace is unlike anything Jimin has ever seen before.
He’s been to the capital a few times, either to visit various relations of the Kims or passing through while traveling between home and finishing school — but even the shock of the city with its busy cobblestone streets and strikingly tall homes can’t compare to the grandeur of the castle grounds.
The impossibly high stone walls and wide moat, the hundreds upon hundreds of guards bedecked in gleaming metal armor, the enormous tapestries and portraits that span the Great Hall: all of it serves to make Jimin feel insignificant in the face of such strength and wealth.
Which he supposes is exactly the point.
The royal family hosts the courting season every year, organizing daily events and providing the food and music for the weekly Feasts. As a starry-eyed child, Jimin heard tales of the lavish banquets and imagined, heart full of wonder, that the king and queen must truly be the most generous of souls to offer seats at their exquisite table to all eligible citizens — but as an adult, he has come to recognize the entire thing as an elaborate disguised method of exercising power.
The rulers provide the kingdom its bread and circuses for one month every year, and in exchange, they maintain an iron-clad grip over the kingdom by determining who can and cannot mate. Because all matings must be approved by the royal household to be considered legal.
Even those who have arranged marriages or are otherwise betrothed outside of the Season are expected to present in court at some point during the month before any details regarding dowry, lands, or titles can be put to paper. In this fashion, the noble bloodlines are kept pure, loyal, and carefully contained in number.
Meanwhile, the vast majority of the population are deprived of the chance to accumulate lawfully-recognized generational wealth due to the prohibitive requirements attendant to participating in the Season. Of course, all are welcomed to join the festivities — but who other than the richest members of society would have the time and means to travel to the capital, arrange the appropriate accommodations, and spend a full month engaging in frivolity?
It’s an undeniably effective way to control the population and continuously assert the structural hierarchy that keeps the royal family at the top and the poorest families at the bottom. Still, it’s not impossible for those without wealth or title to find mates during the Season — case in point, Namjoon. The older alpha had come from nothing, having been raised in a foundling home in the capital, but managed to secure a scholarship at the university through his brilliance. With the access and new wealth of his position, he had been able to participate in the courting season several years ago, which is how he’d met Seokjin.
The two had hit it off almost instantly, drawn to each other’s sense of humor and caring demeanor. Wisely, Jin had forced them to wait out the entire month of events to prove their sincerity to the royal family and his own parents — after their mating had been approved, the Kims had welcomed him with open arms and legally permitted Namjoon to take the Kim name and title. Seokjin had radiated satisfaction when he’d returned to the countryside with his new alpha husband in tow. And while Jimin had been overjoyed for his brother, a part of him was jealous that Jin’s journey to falling in love and finding a mate had been so relatively straightforward.
Perhaps it was this memory that had spurred Jimin to agree with Jin’s suggestion about participating this year — the desperate hope that he, too, might find a mate who could be a true companion for the future. Even if his heart and soul would forever belong to Jeongguk, he would be satisfied with someone who at least would treat him with respect and kindness. Maybe with enough time, he could even learn to be happy with them.
His omega still revolts at the idea of anyone other than Jeongguk claiming him, but he’s getting better at ignoring its whining. He is making this choice, not his wolf. His instincts will come to terms with that eventually.
Unfortunately, the feeling of discontent from his omega only compounds the anxiety churning in his gut. His hands tremble as Jin announces him before the ruling king and queen. They sit imposingly in their gilded thrones, expressions stoic as each participant in this year’s courting season is introduced for their approval.
“May I present Omega Jimin of the noble House Park, last of his name, ward of the Kim family.”
The assembled crowd stirs at the mention of House Park and the reference to the tragedy that left Jimin an orphan, the story clearly being passed around in barely-hushed whispers amongst the assembly. Jimin tunes them all out, focusing instead on kneeling to the ground as smoothly as possible. He doesn’t dare lift his head until he hears the king’s voice echoing around the throne room.
“Well met, Omega Park Jimin, and welcome to the palace. We wish you the best of luck in the upcoming season.”
It takes all of Jimin’s finishing school training not to stumble at being addressed so directly by royalty, knowing that the watchful eyes of the other participants are trained on him even more so now. He manages to bow deeply in thanks before Jin leads him back towards their family. Behind them, another participant is being announced but Jimin barely hears anything over the sound of his own heartbeat echoing loudly in his ears. They manage to make it back to Namjoon and the rest of the Kims before Jimin can lose his balance.
Lord Alpha and Lady Omega Kim give him a pat on the shoulder and a few soft words of encouragement. Taehyung, who has yet to present and has never seen the opening ceremony of the courting season before, is nearly vibrating out of his shoes with excitement.
“Did that just happen?! The king said your name and wished you luck! They haven’t given a blessing to anyone else so far! What does it mean? Will you get something special?”
“It means,” Jin answers with barely contained glee, “that every single person here will be tripping over themselves to meet our Jiminie for the rest of the season. As they should.”
Jimin groans quietly, cheeks stained red as more members of the assembled crowd glance his way with poorly-disguised interest. He fights the urge to stare at the floor in order to avoid their gaze. “Don’t be silly, Jin-hyung. It was just politeness to acknowledge House Park, I’m sure it will be forgotten about soon enough.”
“You made an impression, Jimin-ah. That’s not something so easily forgettable. There are plenty of nobles who participate every year, and it’s still not often they single out any particular families or participants.”
Namjoon chuckles deeply. “Didn’t they single you out during the presentations our season?”
Jin smirks. “Exactly my point. It’s an honor reserved for the true diamonds.”
Taehyung guffaws loudly at Jin’s haughty tone and the older family members turn to look at them with approbation — Jimin is quick to shush the others and resolutely direct his attention back to the ceremony.
Another participant is waiting at the front of the procession, and Jimin’s blood runs cold the moment he recognizes the familiar face.
Jeon Jeongguk walks towards the thrones with a confident stride, trailed by a disgruntled looking Min Yoongi. The smaller alpha announces him in a deadpan voice as Jeongguk kneels with an extravagant flourish.
“May I present Alpha Jeongguk, heir of House Jeon.”
After a polite pause and a sound of acknowledgement from the king, Jeongguk rises to his feet. Before Yoongi can even try to lead him in a different direction, he steers the both of them directly towards the Kims, eyes trained on Jimin. Jimin can’t feel his fingertips, numbness traveling up the length of his skin as the shock settles like ice in his bones. Taehyung squeezes his shoulder reassuringly, but Jimin barely registers the sensation.
“Jeongguk-ah, what a surprise to see you here!” Jin’s mother exclaims as the alpha approaches. “When I last spoke with your parents, we were under the impression you were not participating this year. Could it be that you’ve finally changed your mind about taking a mate?”
Jeongguk shoots her a rakish grin. “And leave a trail of broken hearts behind me? I’m not nearly that callous, Lady Omega Kim. No, I’m simply here to support my dearest childhood friend through what is sure to be the most boring few weeks of his life. The rest of the court can think what they like.”
He winks at Jimin, clearly waiting for him to laugh or offer his usual sassy retort.
But Jimin is incapable of responding, features frozen in dismay. He had made peace with the heartbreak that had settled deep within his chest when Jeongguk hadn’t come to see him off. He’d even started to prepare himself for how much it would kill his inner omega to actively search for a mate that wasn’t Jeongguk. But this, the pain of having Jeongguk present to witness the entire ordeal with his blasé attitude, is almost more than Jimin can bear.
He can’t think of a single word to say. He can’t even bring himself to smile.
He can’t.
Jeongguk’s face falls as the silence drags on, brows creasing in worry.
“Are you alright, Jimin? Look at me — there’s nothing to be nervous about. I’ll be by your side the entire time, I swear it.”
Jimin swallows down his distress and just nods weakly, ignoring the way his stomach flutters when Jeongguk gently takes his hand.
He doesn’t know how to explain that it’s the absolute last thing he wants.
Jimin has never been more violently nauseous in his life.
His presentation at court this morning had been fairly anxiety-provoking as well, but at least it had been over fairly quickly. A few minutes, at most: walking, bowing, fighting off nerves. It’s nothing compared to the stress of attending his first real ball — his wolf is on edge at the prospect of an entire evening dancing and socializing with strangers who will be evaluating him as a potential mate.
And seeing Jeongguk, of course. The idiotic alpha had left Jimin at the palace entrance this morning only after promising to see him at the Jung’s ball tonight. The thought of dealing with him fills Jimin with even more dread, each step physically weighed down by anxiety as they exit their carriage.
He almost hadn’t made it out of the house tonight. It had taken Jin hours of whining (“Jiminieeeeeeee, we have to get going soon,”), pleading (“Please Jimin-ah, won’t you get ready with your favorite hyung?”), and ultimately threatening (“Yah Park Jimin, I’m telling you one last time to get out of bed and get dressed, or I swear you won’t have a chaperone for the rest of the Season!”) to get Jimin appropriately attired and out the door. The younger omega had wanted nothing more than to avoid it, feeling particularly shaken up by the prospect of Jeongguk bearing witness to his first clumsy attempts at meeting potential future mates.
But at the end of the day, he couldn’t deny Jin’s logic that it would be horribly rude to miss the first true event of the Season. Especially after they had already assured the Jungs they would be attending.
“Eyes up, Jimin!” Seokjin whispers sharply in his ear as they reach the front of the receiving line. Jimin raises his head just in time to see the beaming faces of their hosts.
“Duchesses Alpha Jung and Omega Jung, what a pleasure to see you again,” Jin says warmly to a pair of beautiful older women, bowing politely. “This is my mate, Alpha Kim Namjoon, and my foster brother, Omega Park Jimin. He’s participating in the season this year.”
Jin places a warm palm on Jimin’s back, and he steps forward with a short bow of his own as the two women turn their gazes to him. “It’s an honor to meet you both. Thank you for your gracious hospitality,” he murmurs, nerves still bubbling in his gut like acid.
“Oh, I believe the honor is all ours, young man. You simply would not believe how many of our guests have already asked after you,” Duchess Alpha Jung says with a mischievous smile. Jimin feels his cheeks turn bright pink with embarrassment, but she continues before he can think of a response. “Hoseok, darling, come meet Omega Park Jimin!”
A handsome man with a heart-shaped smile turns away from another group of guests and comes to his mother’s side. He has a genuinely happy aura and a pleasing citrus scent that puts Jimin a fraction more at ease. Introductions are repeated and Jimin finds himself blushing again when Hoseok’s eyebrows jump into his hairline upon hearing his name, immediately saying, “Ah, you must be the omega everyone is talking about!”
They make a few more minutes of polite conversation before the duchesses insist that Hoseok take Jimin’s arm and escort their party inside. The lavish decor catches Jimin’s attention but does nothing to ease his nerves: the enormous paintings of various nobility seem to watch him with judgmental eyes as they walk down the hall, a prelude to the capricious stares Jimin is sure they’ll encounter in the ballroom.
Hoseok seems to pick up on his unease. “Omega Park, is this your first courting season?”
Jimin laughs tremulously, his grip on Hoseok’s elbow tightening ever-so-slightly. “Is it that obvious, Lord Jung?”
“Please, call me Hoseok. And it’s more that I’m sure I’d have noticed if you participated last year,” he finishes with a cheeky grin. Jimin barely holds back a groan, feeling even more self-conscious.
“I’d much rather no one take notice of me tonight, either. It’s my first time at a ball in the capital, I’m certain to make a fool of myself. And in your family’s home, no less.”
Hoseok pats his hand comfortingly. “Nonsense, you have nothing to worry about. I’m sure you’ll find it’s just like any other ball.”
Unlikely, Jimin thinks to himself. He’d grown up attending small, cozy assemblies in the countryside, where every face was already familiar and every person greeted him with a smile. Even at the excessively formal cotillions of his finishing school, where he’d actually been taught to present himself in settings like these, he’d known the name of every person he danced with.
Nothing could have prepared him for this: a veritable sea of strangers, clad in their finest silks and heaviest jewels, sizing him up like livestock on market day. He’s never felt more plain, despite wearing his nicest girdled tunic and teardrop-shaped ruby earrings. Whispers race through the crowd like wildfire, accompanied by gesturing and pointing. And above it all, the air swirls with the heady, curious pheromones of nearly a hundred unmated wolves.
In an instant, Jimin is ready to turn tail and flee.
He’s about to back away, to apologize profusely to Hoseok and beg Jin to take him home because he can’t do this after all, and actually, he might be about to vomit –
“Jimin-ah!”
Jeongguk’s clear tenor cuts through the white noise of the crowd, reaching him with all the comfort of a physical touch. It’s unfair, really, how the sound of Jeongguk’s voice soothes him so easily. With one word, one glance, all of Jimin’s nerves fade to the background. The feeling of relief only increases as Jeongguk approaches their group with Yoongi in tow. His stomach flips at how handsome the alpha looks like this, his hair slicked back and diamond studs in his ears. The cut of his dark blue surcoat emphasizes his broad chest, the golden crest of House Jeon making him look downright regal.
”Alpha Jeon, any semblance of propriety you can muster would be greatly appreciated,” Jin tuts sharply. Jeongguk rolls his eyes.
“I apologize for offending your delicate sensibilities, Omega Kim,” he says with an exaggerated bow. Seokjin tsks pointedly, clearly taking issue with the younger man’s sarcastic tone, but then Jeongguk is turning to Jimin with those bright eyes and brushing his lips over the back of Jimin’s gloved hand, and all thought scatters.
“Omega Park, what a lovely surprise to see you here.”
The words ghost over Jimin’s knuckles through thin satin fabric, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. Jimin’s heart pounds a staccato rhythm against his ribcage and the rest of the room falls away, as Jimin’s entire being focuses wholly on Jeongguk’s touch, his warm breath.
But a moment later the alpha is straightening up with laughter in his eyes, and it stings — the reminder that this is all just a charade, bordering on a farce in Jeongguk’s eyes. Jimin feels himself deflate as reality creeps back in. His inner wolf cries out plaintively and he numbs himself to the familiar pain.
At least the tittering crowd no longer disturbs him when his omega is preoccupied with its hopeless yearning.
Jeongguk’s gaze drifts to where Jimin’s palm still rests in the crook of Hoseok’s elbow. He frowns, shifting his gaze to Hoseok’s face.
“I don’t believe we’ve met, sir…?”
“Hoseok. Beta Jung Hoseok, second son of Duchess Alpha Jiwoo and Duchess Omega Hayoon.”
Jimin lets go of Hoseok’s arm so the beta can shake Jeongguk’s outstretched hand.
“Excellent. Alpha Jeon Jeongguk, at your service. And this is Alpha Min Yoongi,” he says, gesturing to his friend.
“How could you not recognize the son of our hosts? Must we send you back to school for etiquette remediation, Jeongguk?” Jin asks with an exasperated sigh.
Jeongguk gasps in mock offense. “Omega Kim, some propriety, please!”
Namjoon and Yoongi chortle but Jin remains unamused by the young alpha’s bratty behavior. He draws in a breath, ready to launch into one of his usual lectures, but the sound of the string quartet warming up interrupts the hum of chatter.
“Ah, that’s our cue! Shall we?” Jeongguk asks Jimin with a wide smile.
The omega frowns in confusion even as his stomach flutters at the sight of Jeongguk’s glee. “Shall we…what?”
“Dance, of course.” Jimin blanches as Jeongguk takes his hand, placing it on his own forearm and leading him towards the dance floor. “Don’t worry, I’ll return him to you shortly!” he calls out to Jin and Namjoon over his shoulder.
Jin sniffs disdainfully. “See that you do. We have actual suitors for our diamond to meet tonight.”
Jimin wants to protest at being led to the dance floor like chattel, even tries to stop walking and force Jeongguk to stop as well – but Jeongguk is insistent and strong. He easily manhandles Jimin into position in the center of the room where the other pairs have already lined up.
“Jeongguk, what the hell!” he hisses in Jeongguk’s face as the alpha positions them appropriately among the other couples after Jimin nearly trips over his own feet.
“Language, Jimin-ah,” Jeongguk tuts. “Or your brother will have to call an etiquette tutor for both of us.”
Jimin is ready to voice a few more choice words that Jin certainly wouldn’t approve of, but he’s distracted by the opening notes of the violin. Jeongguk touches him again and his traitorous heart beats faster — he almost forgets how to breathe when a large, familiar hand finds his waist over the tight fabric of his corset.
Years of finishing school training kick in as Jimin assumes the starting pose for an allemande. He reaches for a pleat in his trousers with his left hand while Jeongguk puts one arm behind his back, eyes still twinkling with mischief. Their free hands meet, palm-to-palm, calloused skin against silky fabric. Jimin tries to ignore the way his entire body tingles with Jeongguk’s touch, but it’s a lost cause.
They sway in place for the first few measures, testing the waters. By the time the music picks up and they start their footwork in earnest, Jimin has more or less managed to get his heart rate under control as he focuses on the steps.
Their palms meet again as they circle each other, thumbs and fingers lined up as best they can despite the alpha’s digits being so much larger. Jeongguk is smirking the way he always does right before making fun of the omega’s shorter stature (“is that feisty temperament a way to compensate for the deficiency in your size, tiny hyung?”), and it riles Jimin up enough to blurt out what’s really on his mind.
“Jeongguk, why on earth did you ask me to dance?”
The alpha quirks a brow like this is a stupid question for Jimin to ask. “What do you mean? It’s tradition, of course. I always have your first dance when we’re together.”
The melody swells and they separate, turning until they make a loop around another pair of dancers before coming back together. The choreography is familiar, an echo of the hundreds of times they have danced these steps together: since their first day of lessons under the watchful eye of their governess to the most recent assembly in their home province among their neighbors and friends.
But this glittering ballroom is not just another venue for them to share a comfortable moment of reprieve. Jimin feels the weight of a thousand eyes on him once again, the air heavy with pheromones and expectations. Things have changed — whether Jeongguk will recognize it or not.
“It’s different for us to dance together during the Season. Surely even you must realize this. Stop being purposefully obtuse!” Jimin tries to step on Jeongguk’s foot to emphasize his point, but the alpha dodges and squeezes Jimin’s waist in revenge. Jimin gasps sharply at the sensation. It scratches at some base desire from his omega that craves to be marked and owned. He wants to whine but does his best to disguise the way his throat constricts with a cough.
“Oh, so just because you’re courting now you can’t spare a single dance for an old friend?” Jeongguk asks.
And — friend. Right. That reminder hurts badly, the same way pressing down on a bruise can turn a dull ache into something sharper. A blunt weapon honed to a keen edge, a dagger that stabs swiftly between his ribs and steals his breath.
Jimin’s expression falters. Jeongguk continues on, oblivious.
“Honestly, I’m offended! I’ve been trying to convince you to come to the capital with me for years, and it takes something as droll as finding a mate for you to finally visit. There are so many places I want to show you — my old college, the tea parlors downtown, the river that runs throughout the city. There’s a library you’ll love just across from my club. Are you up for a tour tomorrow? Just you and me?”
On a different night, Jimin would be regretful at turning Jeongguk down. The alpha is his best friend, after all, and he knows how important spending time together is. He would usually turn him down with a gentle apology, offering words of reassurance and asking if they could find another time. But tonight, Jimin exhausted and peevish from being at this event, and Jeongguk’s blithe disregard is the final straw. So the words come out brusque when he replies, “I can’t. There’s a Feast tomorrow night, we’re expected to prepare for it all day.”
The alpha scoffs, lips pursed in distaste. “So? We’ll just skip it.”
Jimin grits his teeth.
“Lord Jeon, I am ever so sorry to disappoint you with my so-called 'droll agenda', but I am here to find a mate. I can’t just skip one of the most important opening events of the Season to go gallivanting all around the city with you! Especially without a chaperone!”
Jeongguk is unfazed by Jimin’s angry rant, having been the recipient of his hyung’s ire not infrequently, but the very last line seems to throw him for a loop. His brow crinkles in confusion. “A chaperone? Since when have we ever needed a chaperone?”
The music comes to an end and they bow to each other, signaling the conclusion of their dance. Jimin stiffly takes Jeongguk’s arm as they walk back towards Jin, Namjoon, and Yoongi, trying to school his features into something expressionless instead of letting his irritation bleed through. When he’s finally mastered his temper, he replies to Jeongguk in a calm, quiet voice.
“I know you don’t see me as an omega, Jeongguk. But surely you can understand that the rest of society does? And that our peers might assume something about the relationship between an alpha and omega who spend any amount of time alone, especially during courting season?”
Jeongguk frowns and opens his mouth to argue, but before he can utter a word, Jin waves them over very impatiently. There’s a tall man standing beside him dressed in a handsome emerald green coat with a large azure pendant pinned to the front.
“Jimin, perfect timing! This is Alpha Ha Sungwoon, Viscount of the Southern Isles. He’s also participating in the season this year. Come say hello.”
Jimin detaches himself from Jeongguk’s arm and quickly takes his place beside Jin, who eagerly finishes their introductions. Jimin offers a polite bow, but the Viscount is far more forward: he kisses Jimin’s hand and murmurs a greeting against the omega’s gloved fingertips that makes him blush, even though part of him can’t help but protest that this man’s lips feel nothing like Jeongg— No. No more thinking of him, Park Jimin, he tells himself sternly.
Jeongguk is silent as the rest of the party makes conversation and Jimin doesn’t let himself look over at the sullen alpha, unwilling to spoil the night with further argument. When Sungwoon asks him for a dance, Jimin accepts graciously – and when they walk towards the center of the room, Jimin remains resolute. He will put Jeongguk out of his mind for the rest of the night. That way lies only more heartache.
He instead focuses on conversing with the viscount as they glide across the ballroom. He listens to the man’s stories, his laughter, his kind compliments — and ignores the small, secret part of himself that strains to hear Jeongguk’s receding footsteps as the alpha exits the ballroom.