Chapter Text
The court clerk rolled the numbered cards in a cylindrical container and then opened a hatch, reached in, and grabbed a card. She leaned closer to the mic and drawled, “192.”
Changbin didn’t need to look down to check. He knew that was his number. “Here,” he called, standing and gathering his jacket from the bench behind him. He started the long walk to the jury box, feeling the eyes of all the possible jurors watching him for something to look at. Changbin understands the impulse; he himself has been staring at the elaborate chandelier on the ceiling for thirty-seven minutes.
“Please take Seat 7.” An alpha officer motioned at an open seat in the front row, and Changbin nodded. He maneuvered behind the wooden railing and took as gently a seat as he could as a large man in a cramped box.
Changbin had never been called for jury duty before, and part of him was excited to be along for the ride. Of course, he’d seen his fair share of procedural crime dramas, usually starring an alpha/omega buddy cop duo that played off each other in a spiritual “opposites attract” dance. In those shows, the guest star was always the criminal, the confessions always came out dramatically in the courtroom, and the beta, if there was one in that episode’s cast, played a comically unintelligent or socially inept character. Changbin admits that those episodes unsettled him enough to make him end the show early.
He knows that’s all fiction, so he was interested in witnessing all that he could before the judge inevitably dismissed him.
He watched the other possible jurors take their seats and the attorneys organize their folders. The judge introduced the case, explained the charges, and then turned to address the jury specifically. Changbin sat up straighter in the deceptively uncomfortable velvet plush chair.
“Now,” the older alpha judge took off his glasses and folded them gently before placing them on the raised pulpit he sat at. “The defendant has been charged with conspiracy, assault of an omega, and illegal mate bonding. You may notice some officers in the court. This is simply because the defendant has not posted bail and has been remanded to the ACF, that is, the Alpha Correctional Facility; this does not incriminate him nor should it inspire sympathy. It is merely a fact, neither positive nor negative. We will now be proceeding with the voir dire process where the attorneys—both the prosecutor and defense—will question you about the answers you provided in the questionnaire. These questions are not meant to interrogate or embarrass you, they are simply to determine if you can be fair and impartial and approach this case with an open mind. If at any point you feel embarrassed or wish to answer in private, simply ask for a sidebar and we can discuss in private. With that, counselor, you may proceed.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” the prosecutor stood up. He situated the microphone on the stand closer to his mouth and started with the first juror in the front row.
The first three jurors were questioned and left alone. The fourth was excused: she was an alpha whose omega mate was pregnant and would be giving birth any day now. The new fourth candidate was also questioned and left alone. The fifth asked for a sidebar but sat back down in the box when the private questioning was finished. The sixth, an excited omega who looked like this was the highlight of his year, declared that he could easily put his legal training aside and listen to the judge’s directions.
Changbin’s heart rate steadily climbed as each stranger ahead of him took their turn. By the time the mic was being handed to him, he needed to wipe his palms on his jeans and swallow the nerves in his throat. He took a thready breath in and held it for five seconds before releasing it shakily.
“Juror 192,” the prosecutor started, grabbing his file and opening it to quickly review Changbin’s written questionnaire.
“Yes, good afternoon,” Changbin answered, hearing how shaky his voice was. He tried to subtly clear his throat.
“Good afternoon,” the prosecutor answered politely. “Are you employed right now?”
“Yes,” Changbin answered, nodding. “I’m a tattoo artist, I work at 0325 Ink.”
“And how long have you worked there?” The prosecutor continued.
“Almost a decade.” Changbin started picking at his jeans, knowing the question that was coming up. There’s no way that it wouldn’t be addressed.
“On your questionnaire, you noted that you were the victim of an assault by an alpha.” The prosecutor said apologetically. “Did that case go to court?” The prosecutor asked, making direct eye contact with Changbin, whose heart stopped at the feeling of being analyzed.
“It did,” Changbin nodded again, this time more stiffly.
“And without telling me the outcome of that trial, do you feel like you could objectively weigh the facts of this case and reach an impartial and fair decision?”
Changbin smiled tightly, the fierce memory of hands around his neck squeezing the air from his lungs crashing upon him. “I seriously doubt it.”
“Then I will excuse you from this case. Please report to the fourth floor,” the judge answered, waving a hand for his dismissal.
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Changbin stood up, bowed his head in deference to the judge, smiled awkwardly at the prosecutor asking the questions, and shimmied his way past the other jurors to exit the courtroom.
That was one way he could be ejected. But his status as a beta was also grounds for dismissal from jury duty, at least according to the beta public forum boards he followed. They wouldn’t say so, but attorneys don’t have to cite a reason when dismissing jury members.
Well, it was interesting while it lasted. He had the rest of the day at his leisure now, and he could go back to the shop, sure, but he just wanted to sink into one of his omega’s nests. Jisungie should be home. The cartoonist kept strange hours, mostly to account for his irregular and oftentimes violent heat. Minho should still be in the office so maybe he’d like the company.
Not that Minho needed to be away for Jisung to want a snuggle, but it felt less like he was stepping into a place he didn’t belong if the older omega was away from his precious omega mate. It always did, for any of his pack and their trues.
Trues, a term for a wolf’s true mate, their soulmate, their one perfect partner. It was a rare gift to meet them—with the millions of wolves in the world, separated by mountain ranges and oceans and languages and continents. The likelihood of meeting your true was one in ten thousand. Not impossible, but you should absolutely count your blessings if it happened.
According to his pack, you could tell when you met your true first by their scent. One’s inner wolf was fine-tuned to the pheromones of their perfect match, meaning that they could pick up the faintest wisps of their true’s scent; likewise, other alphas and omegas could tell a bonded pair by the combination of their scents on each other. The scents tended to be complementary, as well: scientists believe it’s an evolutionary trait that’s developed with the understanding that your scents will be forever paired. Once your wolf recognized its pair, there was the truth test (hence, the name “true mate.”). Alphas and omegas can feel instinctively that their true is lying, a safeguard built into the bonded pair to prevent unfaithfulness or rampant lies. Other symptoms include a deeper bond once you have decided to mate—usually presenting with telepathic abilities across some distances—blissful happiness, and eternal gratitude.
Changbin guesses, of course.
Betas do not have trues. He’s been reminded of this every day since his secondary gender was exposed at his old family pack. Betas, the useless subgender that has been steadily disappearing from the world according to every country’s census, and the subgender that is now about as rare as finding that true of yours—maybe rarer. Betas, the only subgender that never goes through a fevered procreation period, referred to as heats or ruts depending on being an omega or alpha respectively, and are cursed to be sterile from birth. Betas, the small demographic of society with inferior senses of smell regarding pheromones, casting them as bumbling morons who don’t recognize the nuances of the complicated alpha/omega relationships. Betas, better to be left alone than to be integrated into normal packs, otherwise they might waste the precious love and care that could be better allotted to an alpha or omega.
He will never have a soulmate. He will never have that gut-twisting feeling when his true lies to him. He’ll never mate with them, never know their thoughts, and never be loved as only a true can love.
That should be fine. The odds of meeting your true are so low that the fact he’s not even allowed to have one shouldn’t matter. Like being banned from owning a yacht. Most people couldn’t even dream of affording one, so what’s the difference?
Maybe that’s how he would’ve viewed the topic if events hadn’t unfolded as they have.
He does have a pack. He was allowed into one, even as the beta he is. The boys he’s loved his entire life have decided to love him back, and they’ve graciously allowed him to join them. He loves them. God, he loves them, he wants them happy, he needs them healthy.
But it’s a pack of seven with three bonded pairs of trues, and it’s no surprise the one left out.
So, sure, it’s easy to dismiss trues as a once-in-a-lifetime gift, a mathematical improbability, and wave that yacht goodbye. But he’s the only paddleboat in a yacht dock and the sense of being alone, of being unwanted, of being the square peg in a round hole, gets heavier every year.
He wonders how much longer he can pretend he’s okay like this.
He knocked on Jisung and Minho’s personal room. Of course, there was a pack room, and that’s where the seven of them spent most of their time at night when everyone was home from work, but the personal rooms were used during the day for trues to have alone time if they needed it, for the omegas to craft their personal nests that smelled only like them and their true, and for heats and ruts to be experienced between trues.
Jisung opened the door, knowing it was him before he did so. The others with their enhanced senses of smell could always tell those things. Changbin was greeted with a grin, a waft of ripe oranges, and a squealed “Binnie!” before a hand clasped in his shirt and tugged him inside the room, Changbin’s less sensitive beta nose picking up subtle notes of chocolate and orange for Minho and Jisung’s bonding. “Thank God, you’re home. Wait, why are you home? Never mind, I don’t care, you’re home.” He presented his shared room with Minho, the nest splayed with blankets and an opened laptop. “Come watch my show with me! And, ugh, you smell like a thousand random wolves, you need to smell like us, like, now.”
“I do?” He lifted his shirt to his nose, smelling mostly the scent of the courthouse and public bus. “Let me take a shower. I’ll be right back.” Changbin squeezed Jisung’s hand apologetically.
Jisung sighed. “Is this because of my heats?”
Changbin smiled with closed lips. “I mean, during your last heat, you smelled the barest hint of Felix on your hoodie and nearly ripped it apart with your claws, so, yes. It’s about your heats. Let me take a shower and then I’ll be back.”
Jisung huffed but released his hand. “Fine. Hurry.”
Changbin did, rushing through a quick shower with a pheromone-canceling body wash and then navigating to his personal bedroom. To make it easier for Jisung, he found a sweatshirt of Minho’s and a pair of Jisung’s sweatpants, covering himself in their own pheromones so their nest would stay pure. He pressed a scent patch over the gland on his neck and over the glands of both wrists, the main areas where pheromones were spread. Just because he couldn’t smell himself doesn’t mean the rest of his pack couldn’t. And they could smell him much better than he could ever smell them. Just one of those fun little relationship imbalances that he’ll live with for the rest of his life.
But who’s counting? Certainly not this guy!
Changbin walked back to their bedroom and opened the door, knowing that Jisung was expecting him. But he didn’t get more than a few steps in before Jisung was huffing, eyes narrowed. “Now I can’t smell anything, where is my bouquet of lavender?” He pulled at the neckline of Changbin’s—well, Minho’s—hoodie with one hand, the other grabbing his hand and turning his wrist over. At spotting both patches and assuming the matching patch on his other wrist, Jisung frowned. “Is this really necessary? I wanna smell my mate,” he whined.
Changbin shot a look at Jisung’s nest. He wanted to be in it so badly. God, he loved laying in his omegas’ nests, he loved feeling close to his pack, when all there was were their pheromones and their skin pressed against him.
He loved laying in their nests…but he didn’t know if he wanted to die for it.
“It’s so necessary, Sungie, you are so scary when you’re in heat,” Changbin admitted.
Jisung pouted. “I’m not scary!”
Jisung’s heats, in addition to being inconsistent and physically tolling, also turned the otherwise friendly and sweet, if overactive, omega into a snarling near-feral who only craved the smell and comfort of his true. Changbin and the rest of the pack were practiced enough to not take anything he said or did during his heats to heart.
“What the fuck are you talking about? You’re the most scary! Do you think the alphas scare me? Not even close! You omegas do! And you’re the scariest.” Changbin walked further into the room.
“I want to smell you,” Jisung pouted harder. “Come on, please?”
Changbin pressed his lips together. “Omega,” he said calmly. “I know you’re feeling lonely right now. Minho’s been working a lot of long hours and you’re feeling restless. I understand, baby. But I’m thinking of future-you and what he would want. And he wouldn’t want my scent in your nest.” He took a second, watching Sungie’s face carefully. “But if it’s that important to you, then how about you promise to do a deep pheromone clean on your nesting items before your next heat?”
Jisung’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Yes! Okay, yes, I promise, beta!” He wiggled and reached out, snagging the edge of the patch on Changbin’s neck and ripping it off.
Changbin winced, rubbing the gland, both to massage away the build-up of pheromones and to ease the sting of the adhesive being ripped away from the skin. “That never stops sucking. This is such a waste of these patches, by the way, you have to use three every time, it’s so cost-inefficient.”
“Stop talking, please,” Jisung said happily, doing away with the patches on his wrists next. He took a deep breath and rubbed at the wrists to release the pheromones there as well. “Scent me?”
Changbin sighed and tugged the omega into his arms. “Of course, baby.” He hugged the younger boy tightly, smelling the oranges sweeten and cover him in return. “Come on, let’s go settle down in your pretty nest.”
Jisung purred, pulling back and tugging at Changbin by the hoodie that smelled so much like his true. “Come, come!” He beckoned, letting go when he got to his nest, a futon near the window with chaotically strewn arrangements of his and Minho’s clothes. Minho was a much more organized wolf, but the older omega would sacrifice anything for his true mate, and that certainly included the setup of their shared nest.
Changbin laid down first and pulled Jisung to lie on his chest, the omega happily purring and nuzzling against his chest. “Best tits in the world,” Sungie mumbled in contentment, a tiny smile on his lips. “Don’t tell Minho.”
“Minho knows,” Changbin denied, wrapping his arms around him again. “I thought you wanted to watch your show together?”
“Changed my mind,” Jisung rubbed his cheek against Minho’s hoodie, further cementing their shared scent. “Wanna cuddle.”
“My favorite,” Changbin grinned and wrapped his arms tighter.
They stayed there, in silence, for a long time, both crawling closer to sleep as they cuddled closer, the scents of lavender and orange curling and twisting together.
“Sungie?” Changbin tiredly sighed. “Do you think reincarnation is real?”
Sungie hummed. “I don’t know. Maybe. Do you?”
“I don’t know, but…it’s a nice thought.” He curled a hand into Jisung’s hair, his wrist scenting the back of Sungie’s neck. “Isn’t it? Starting over, getting a whole new life. A whole new future.”
Jisung frowned, eyes squinting closed in irritation. “I like this life. I get all of you. If I had a new life, how could I find you again?”
Changbin nodded slowly back. “Right. You’re right.” He closed his eyes, trying not to think about the freedom. Trying not to think about being a different him and how perfect that would be.
********
Dating hasn’t been easy for Hyunjin, to say the fucking least.
To say the fucking most, he lives in a perpetual tug of war with his alpha.
A part of him refuses to balk at the pheromones of another alpha. Refuses to yield when an alpha flashes angry eyes at him or makes a demand or command. His alpha prefers the dominant role and likes to feel in charge and in control. This makes dating alphas very difficult.
On the other hand, Hyunjin the person wants to be treasured, protected, and cared for. He doesn’t want to be the decision-maker or the authority all the time, which makes agreeing with his alpha and pursuing an omega impossible. He’s had one long-term relationship in his entire life and it ended rather spectacularly when his then-boyfriend felt like he was robbed of the alpha he was promised when Hyunjin was stupid enough to ask if he could nest with him.
This internal battle leaves him in limbo and prevents relationships or even interest.
That is until the day Hyunjin met Lee Felix.
Hyunjin has been in love with Felix for 6 months now.
He’s never met such a badass omega. The low voice is a factor, his deep drawl flickering heat down his spine whenever he hears it. But it’s so far beyond that; there’s just something about Felix that feels right. The scents that cling to him, and his own natural scent, feel like home to Hyunjin. Smells like peace.
He’s tried so hard not to be in love with his friend, especially because the scents of ocean breeze and lavender cling strongly to Felix’s coconut, and a deep mating bite is pronounced and beautifully situated on his graceful neck. He knows that the omega is mated, mated to none other than his true, and what’s more, he’s the head omega of a pack. He knows nothing will come of this love. It doesn’t make a difference to his amateur heart, so thrilled to be in love for the first time.
It started almost a year ago. He remembers meeting the model in Seoul for a photo shoot, Hyunjin being hired as his photographer for the first, but certainly not the last, time. He rolled into that shoot the same way he’d done every one before that: hair in a messy bun, right hand clutching an Iced Americano, designer sunglasses perched on his nose, and camera bag slung over his left shoulder. And then he’d stutter-stepped and nearly faceplanted when he got a good look at the model for the shoot.
He worked in the beauty industry. No, practically lived in it, ever since he was sixteen years old and had started taking pictures of his friends in his family pack and loved it enough to pursue it as a career. He’d had endless parades of all forms and types of beauty waltz through his life and sit in the makeup chair before he told them how to move so he could catch the best shot. And not to be narcissistic, but he was objectively beautiful himself.
Felix’s pixie face, scattering of freckles, and blond hair had stopped his heart. His low voice when he smiled and greeted him good morning boiled his blood. But his smell…his smell had made the alpha inside purr and finally rest. Had made every muscle in his body unclench from the tense hold he wasn’t even aware he was locked in. Coconut, ocean breeze, and lavender: it worked like magic.
It only got worse after the first photoshoot. Because he’d been able to get so many good shots of Felix in a synergistic clash of greatness (and honestly, another aspect that made him so interested in the omega was how well they worked together, how the model moved in just the right way like he’d read Hyunjin’s mind, it was spellbinding), Felix’s agent started booking him for more and more of Felix’s shoots. Along the way, Felix had started calling him “my photographer.”
Nothing to read into there, of course. Felix was mated with his true and was the head omega of his pack, he reminded himself.
And then, to make matters worse, his hopeless crush had turned around and decided he desired Hyunjin as a friend. A close friend, friends who get drinks after work and gossip about their lives and share their fears and have a set video call date weekly to talk face-to-face. Felix always cupped his cute, well-manicured hands around a snowman mug with hot chocolate in the winter months and Hyunjin admits he’s spent a lot of time staring at his nude gel-polish nails.
It was during one such video call that he found out he was being vetted for this entire friendship.
Felix was eating a burrito with one hand, motioning with the other as he spoke. “And then Minnie and Innie had surprise ruts, and that’s always kind of a dumpster fire because their cycles sync and the entire house smells delicious but we can’t do anything about it because both alphas are so growly possessive of each other. But they smell so good! It’s not fair!” He grumbled. “I mean, I know trues are supposed to smell amazing together, but those two are something else.”
“What are their scents? If you don’t mind me asking,” Hyunjin hurried to add, not wanting to overstep. Some wolves found it easy information to disclose, but others felt like their mates’ scents were too intimate for casual conversation.
Luckily, Felix seemed to prescribe to the former train of thought. “Minnie’s is rosemary and Innie’s is lemon. When they’re together, it’s like the most delicious dinner and it’s mouthwatering, but when they’re in rut? Innie in particular gets all snarly if we happen to smell Minnie. As if he can hoard all his pheromones? It’s crazy.”
“Unfortunately, alphas in rut aren’t known for logical reasoning,” Hyunjin smiled, swirling a glass of wine as he sat in his comfiest chair for their video call. “Neither are omegas in heat, by the way.” Hyunjin laughed at the affronted pout on Felix’s lips. “Don’t give me that, didn’t you tell me that one of your omega mates almost ripped his hoodie to pieces because he could smell you on it?”
“Sungie is a bad example,” Felix admitted, a smile poking through his dramatic pout.
“Uh huh,” Hyunjin snickered. “Honestly, sometimes I envy betas. They don’t have to deal with any of this nonsense.”
Felix’s face flickered with something for a moment and he leaned forward to place his snowman mug on a table that Hyunjin couldn’t see on the screen. “How do you feel about betas?” He asked haltingly.
Hyunjin frowned, eyebrows drawing together. “I don’t know. Can’t say I’ve ever met one.”
“But you must’ve heard all the stereotypes and biases,” Felix pressed, pout looking authentic now, nothing playful about it. “Do you believe them?”
Hyunjin tilted his head, considering the question. “No? I mean, I guess all stereotypes have a nugget of truth to them, but there are stereotypes about alphas and omegas, too, and I don’t really believe any of those. So I don’t just believe anything I hear about betas. Sure, it's a fact that they can’t smell pheromones as well, but that doesn’t make them incompetent. That’s just silly.” He decided, voicing opinions for the first time. No one had ever asked him questions like these before.
“So you don’t think they’re useless?” Felix finally asked bluntly. “You would treat them kindly?”
“Of course, I would. I’m not in the habit of being an asshole just to be one.” Hyunjin licked his lips. “Can I ask why you’re asking so many questions about betas, Lixie? Did you meet one on a job and people were treating them badly?” He asked, sad about the idea, knowing Felix’s big heart would never allow the injustice.
Felix bit his bottom lip and shook his head. “No.” He answered. His teeth tugged at his luscious lip, pink tongue darting out to lick the dry skin there. He hesitated and then added. “Actually…I haven’t been totally honest with you.”
“Oh? You’re not a beta, are you?” Hyunjin joked.
Felix only grimaced. “No, but…one of my mates is.” He answered, a note of steel entering his voice. Like he was preparing for battle, even against Hyunjin who had become such a close friend.
Hyunjin’s eyes widened. “No way! You know a beta? Really? That’s so cool! That has to be like winning the lottery or something, the odds are astronomical—”
“My mate isn’t a statistic, Jinnie,” Felix interrupted, eyes narrowed.
Hyunjin’s words died in his throat and his heart stuttered. “Oh, no! I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry!” He licked his lips, suddenly nervous at the glint in Felix’s eyes. “I just…I’m sorry, I’ve never met anyone who knew a beta, I’m just a little starstruck.” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Felix took a breath and seemed to visibly shake himself. “No, it’s not you, I’m sorry. I get a little protective over Binnie. I mean…we all do. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. And you’re right; the odds are…insane.” He took a breath. “It’s just that he faces so much every day and…and so many people are mean to him.” He bit his lip and took another deeper, steadying breath.
“Lixie,” Hyunjin frowned, feeling his chest ache for his crush. “I’m sorry that you and your mates have to deal with that.”
“Thanks,” Felix flashed a soft, sad smile. “Anyway…we have to check. Before we bring anyone close to us. We have to check. Because if we bring someone into our home, then they can’t be the kind of person who would do that.”
Hyunjin blinked a few thousand times. “So…does that mean you want to invite me into your home?” There’s a special sort of torturous burn that happens when your crush wants a deeper friendship with you, he realizes in that moment.
Homes were big. Homes were everything. Your home…your den…was your haven. It housed everything important to you, none more than your packmates. Particularly romantic packmates, such as the pack Felix was a part of. Everything in your home smelled like your pack. Strange scents entering a pack den was a big deal.
Felix was nodding, smiling happily. “Yeah. Well…I wanted to ask you soon. I was thinking about it. You’ve never made any snide remarks or little asides in all these months. I just needed to ask the question directly, but I was pretty sure what your answer would be. The topic just came up today so…I wanted to check.” He smiled. “Thanks for not being a dick about the guy I love.”
Hyunjin felt a little twinge in his heart. The guy he loves. Not you. That space is taken, taken, taken six times over. This is what he’ll do for the packmate who isn’t his true.
“Yeah, of course. Any time?” Hyunjin giggled uncomfortably. “I don’t know how to reply to that.” He took a long gulp of his wine. “You’re welcome? My pleasure? I’m happy I’m not subsexist?”
Felix laughed in reply, sparkling eyes glowing on the laptop screen. “All of the above,” he decided, nodding once. “So…how about it? Do you want to come to dinner to meet my mates and my true?”
Hyunjin tried to think of a reason not to that was better than, “I’m sorry, I don’t know how I’ll react once I’m in a room with everybody who gets to be with you instead of me.” He didn’t think Felix would let that one go, even if Hyunjin asked pretty please. So he stuffed his feelings down in the bottom chasms of his heart, right next to his fears of dying alone and his tentative dream of belonging to a pack one day, and smiled. “I’d be honored.”