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“ah, ah, ah, ah”
The soft, barely-there exhales of breath clouded the still air of the room, almost humid with the heat of the bodies within it, sheets long since tossed aside to combat the summer air. A window had been cracked, but was closed again to prevent the scents clouding the room from leaking out into the public, no matter the fact their apartment was on the ninth floor.
Seungkwan’s soft breathing caught, drawing Vernon back to the scene in front of him, watching with rapt attention as the omega below him fell apart. His back arched, mouth open in a silent cry, all but shaking from the stimulation of Vernon’s thick fingers pressed unrelentingly into his prostate.
He seemed to almost seize, legs snapping tense as his orgasm shook through him, the overly sweet smell of strawberries bursting through the room with the intensity of a fruit stand baking in the sun.
Vernon’s nostrils flared, unable to resist the urge to duck down, kissing his mate hard, breathing in his pleasure as he shivered his way down from the peak. Vernon nuzzled into his neck, over the raised scar from their mating and carefully pulled his fingers out, overly aware of how sensitive the omega beneath him gets after an orgasm that intense.
Seungkwan nuzzled him back, his ragged breathing finally evening out into something resembling normal, if heavy. He was soaked in sweat, flushed from his ears down to his chest, still breathing heavily from the intense orgasm, beautiful and sensual and his.
“You’re too good at that.” Seungkwan breathed, a teasing edge to his words despite the exhaustion they were steeped in.
“I’m a quick learner,” Vernon responded with a grin, leaning down to kiss Seungkwan gently, breaking apart only to nuzzle his nose into his cheek, leaving a streak of his own beeswax and cedar smell, a careful grounding to the sickly sweet scent his mate produced.
“Do you need me to-?” Seungkwan offered, gesturing down to Vernon’s crotch, still covered with the boxers he never removed.
Vernon smiled, shaking his head. “Nah, didn’t get hard this time. Too focused on you,” he explained, earning a grin from his mate.
“My devoted beta,” Seungkwan teased, pulling him in for another kiss. “I have, like, so much slick in my ass right now though. If I don’t get up I’m going to be cemented to these sheets.”
Vernon snorted, glancing down to confirm the sheets were, in fact, wrecked.
“I’ll go run a bath, you work on not being so… slippery.” Vernon grinned, already hopping off the bed in time to avoid the indignant kick aimed at his thigh.
“You try getting fingerfucked for an hour and not end up a slip n slide!” Seungkwan yelled at Vernon’s retreating back, earning a laugh from both Vernon and whatever packmate in the next room heard the shout.
“Whatever you say!”
From the en suite, the sound of water gushing into the tub echoed back, punctuated by the clatter of bottles being sorted. The scent of lavender (Vernon’s favorite bath soak) started to mix into the cocktail of pheromones wafting through the room, softening the edges of the heat lingering in the air.
Seungkwan laid back for a moment longer, blinking up at the ceiling, dazed and buzzing in the aftermath. The imprint of Vernon’s palm still burned into his hip, a grounding reminder that he was safe, held, loved. His hand drifted lazily down his chest, skimming over damp skin, and he winced a little at the mess between his thighs.
“Gross,” he muttered fondly, dragging himself up with a sigh, every movement languid and graceless. “Gross and sticky.”
By the time he padded into the bathroom, Vernon had already tested the temperature and was crouched beside the tub, sleeves rolled up, waiting with a towel slung over his shoulder like the world's most smug personal assistant.
“Your royal slipperiness, your bath awaits,” Vernon said, grinning as he helped him over the edge and into the water.
Seungkwan groaned dramatically as he sank into the tub, limbs floating, eyelids fluttering shut in relief. Vernon stayed beside him, one hand trailing lazily in the water, the other gently carding through sweat-dampened hair.
“I really do have the best beta,” Seungkwan murmured, voice slurring from contentment.
“And I’ve got the loudest omega in the building,” Vernon shot back with a grin.
“Good,” Seungkwan mumbled, eyes still closed. “Let them know I’m loved.”
-
Vernon stretched, pressing the back of his hands to his eyes, pushing hard enough he saw spots to clear the tiredness from his eyes. He had stayed up late with Seungkwan, taking care of his mate, washing away the filth and sweat from his body. By the time the two of them had tumbled into bed, sharing kisses between smiles and too-fluffy towels Seokmin had indignantly bought to replace the half-decade-old tatters they had been using since they were trainees, it was nearly 3am, the dorm fast asleep.
The tile of the kitchen floor was cold on his bare feet but it was a welcome contrast to the already hot summer morning. He yawned, resigning himself to the bran cereal no one else in the house ate, sitting down at the table to munch while the rest of the pack began to wake.
As usual, Jeonghan was the first one up, wandering in like a zombie to the coffee machine, which had automatically begun brewing at 7am as usual. Vernon hummed a greeting. Jeonghan sat down beside him, eyes half-lidded, and they sat in comfortable silence for the ten or so minutes it took Jeonghan to wake up fully.
“You were up late last night,” Jeonghan said conversationally, finally filling the kitchen with something more than birdsong from the opened window.
“Yeah, Seungkwan was stressed and needed to unwind,” Vernon said bluntly around his mouthful of cereal, Jeonghan snorting at his usual crassness. Vernon was unbothered by the knowledge that Jeonghan had heard them having sex. Jeonghan had had sex with both of them on multiple occasions. He was no stranger to the sounds.
“Did you have fun?” he asked, a check-in Vernon had long become accustomed to from the older alpha. He nodded, finishing chewing his mouthful before he replied.
“Yeah. I like helping him.”
The answer seemed to satisfy him. Jeonghan went back to his coffee, staring out the window like he was calculating the meaning of life in the morning haze, while the sound of other packmates began to fill the dorm, soft footsteps, door hinges, the muffled click of toothbrushes being capped and toothpaste tubes being flung back into drawers with varying degrees of neatness.
Minghao padded in with a tired wave, hair a mess and his hoodie so oversized it fell past his hands. He gave them both a nod before rifling through the fridge in search of something “with protein or at least aesthetic value,” as he once put it. Seungcheol followed soon after, hair still damp from a too-hot shower, placing a hand briefly on Jeonghan’s shoulder in greeting before stealing a piece of Vernon’s cereal without asking.
“You’re not even going to like that,” Vernon muttered, not bothering to defend his bowl.
“Still gotta check,” Seungcheol replied, chewing and grimacing like he’d bitten into a wad of insulation. “Yep. Still terrible.”
One after another, his packmates began to trickle in, seeking food or coffee or strange mixtures of the two. Or, like Mingyu, searching for nothing but a warm body to drape himself over. He shuffled in wearing only sweatpants and a sleepy grin, plopping down onto the bench beside Vernon and promptly letting his full weight lean onto him.
Vernon huffed but didn’t push him off, just adjusted the way he held his cereal so he wouldn’t spill it onto Mingyu’s lap.
“Why do you smell like that?” Mingyu murmured, nose wrinkling as he sniffed Vernon’s shoulder.
“Seungkwan,” Jeonghan answered smoothly, before Vernon could speak. “Last night was… productive.”
Mingyu made a small noise of understanding, more amused than scandalized, and didn’t move. If anything, he burrowed closer.
Vernon closed his eyes, soaking in the domestic sounds filling the kitchen- the whirr of the fancy milk frother someone had bought at some point, the clink of mugs, low conversation, someone humming off-key down the hall. The air still smelled like summer: cut fruit, leftover pheromones, and detergent, all mixed into the lazy haze of morning.
His hand rested on the table, half-curled, and he felt a smaller one slide over his, Seungkwan, finally awake, face creased with sleep and hair flattened on one side. He didn’t say anything, just stood behind him with his cheek against Vernon’s shoulder, arms draped loosely around his chest.
“You good?” Vernon asked quietly, craning his head to glance at him.
Seungkwan nodded, smiling into his skin. “Better now.”
And Vernon, surrounded by the warmth of his pack, the taste of boring cereal on his tongue, and the sleepy weight of Seungkwan at his back, thought there wasn’t a better answer in the world.
—
When Vernon auditioned for Pledis, he had still been a pup, squeaky and shy and reeling from the harshness of children his own age. When he first was ushered into the pistachio-green room to meet the other trainees, he wasn’t quite sure what to think of them. Loud and obnoxious and fighting more often than not, but they were kind. The obvious leader of the group, a young alpha named Seungcheol, kept everyone in line and happy.
Seungkwan joined around the same time, fresh-faced and bold, eagerly standing up to the joking challenges of the older trainees. He carved himself a place in the group while Vernon simply found somewhere to slot in. He liked Seungkwan, liked his energy and his humor, liked how Seungkwan never gave up on helping Vernon learn a new song or hit a note just right.
There were moments- quiet ones, in between the loud hustle of practice and the sting of criticism, where Seungkwan would drag Vernon to the rooftop with warm sodas stolen from the manager’s break room and say, “You’re too tense. You have to shake it out. Sing from somewhere real.”
And Vernon would try, not because he believed in himself, but because Seungkwan did. That belief was addictive- quiet, stubborn, ever-present.
They started staying late together. Seungkwan would throw his arm around Vernon’s shoulders and insist they practice choreo, or work on variety skills, or just sit and review vocal lines with heads tipped together over a shared notebook. Vernon’s Korean was still shaky then, so Seungkwan slowed his speech, exaggerated his enunciation, and repeated things three times without once getting frustrated.
They laughed easily. About nonsense, mostly. Seungkwan once dared Vernon to eat an entire spoonful of gochujang, and when he actually did, eyes watering and mouth on fire, Seungkwan ran for milk and nearly tripped over his own shoes in the process, giggling the whole time.
They weren’t best friends, not yet. But there was a familiarity that built itself up between them like layers of paint, slow and unassuming.
Vernon presented as a beta a mere year later, to the surprise of no one. He didn’t have the instincts to lean either alpha or omega, and he always thought he was a little too plain to be either, no matter how much Jeonghan scolded him for those thoughts.
Time marched forwards, presentations popping up among the mixed pack, Seungkwan stubbornly smelling like a pup still, his presentation late enough the pack was taking bets on if he would be an omega. Vernon didn’t care, really. It didn’t matter what Seungkwan was, he’d still be Seungkwan.
The pack was already beginning to fall into the orbits of each other. It wasn’t uncommon for Vernon to find Jihoon, a freshly presented omega, leaning against Seungcheol’s chest, his boxy arm keeping the smaller man tight to his body.
Seungkwan presented on a summer morning, Vernon waking up to the sound of shuffling and low groans, the kind that were too distressed to be ignored. He blinked sleepily, eyes adjusting to the dim light bleeding through the curtains. Across the room, Seungcheol was crouched beside Seungkwan’s bunk, gently coaxing the flushed boy upright.
There was an obvious stain darkening the back of Seungkwan’s boxers, slick, unmistakable in what it meant, even if the room hadn’t already been cloyed with the rich scent of omega heat. Strawberries and cream, heady and sweet, curling in the air despite the still unmistakable teenager musk that haunted their dorms.
Vernon’s nose twitched, but he didn’t move, careful not to wake Samuel, who was curled against his side like always. He watched through half-lidded eyes as Seungcheol pressed a broad hand to Seungkwan’s forehead, the other clumsily holding a tissue to his own nose, likely trying to keep the scent from overwhelming him.
Jeonghan popped his head in through the doorway a moment later, his voice a gentle whisper as he took in the scene. “The heat room’s ready.”
Seungcheol gave a quiet nod, looping an arm around Seungkwan’s shoulders to help him stand. The omega wavered slightly on his feet, eyes glassy and skin flushed from the intensity of his first heat. Jeonghan stepped forward, immediately pressing a cool hand to Seungkwan’s cheek, murmuring soft reassurances as he brushed damp bangs from his forehead.
“Hey, you’re okay,” he cooed, voice warm and practiced. “Just breathe through it.”
Then Joshua was there too, already dressed in loose sleep pants and an old T-shirt, padding softly across the room with a blanket bundled in his arms. He wrapped it gently around Seungkwan’s shoulders and steadied him on the other side, his touch careful and grounding.
“Come on, let’s get you comfortable,” Joshua said softly, and Seungkwan leaned into him with a whimper, face scrunched like he didn’t know whether to cry or sleep. Omega comfort through a presentation was a godsend, Vernon had heard.
Together, the trio guided him from the room- Seungcheol bracing his steps, Jeonghan soothing him with touch, and Joshua keeping his scent gentle and clean behind a thin veil of scent-blocker. The door clicked shut behind Joshua and Seungkwan, The alphas staying out in the hall, and slowly, the sugary scent began to fade, though it lingered like the memory of something soft and warm.
Vernon exhaled quietly, rubbing his eyes. He stayed still for a few more minutes, letting Samuel sleep, heart tight in a way he couldn’t name.
-
Seungkwan's presentation changed nothing, really. Not for Vernon, anyway. Life went on as usual. They woke up, practiced until their muscles ached, ate more than a small army unit could justify, and then collapsed into sleep. It was methodical. Predictable. Uncomplicated.
As a beta, Vernon’s role in the pack was clear. He was a buffer- A Shield, as he liked to think of it. When tempers ran high (which was often), he and the other betas stepped in, their neutral scents cutting through the chaos like a damp cloth on a flame. There was something about betas that calmed people, whether it was their lack of sharp hormonal pull or their general aura of unbotheredness. Vernon didn’t question it much.
Truthfully, he never really understood alphas or omegas. They were always fired up about something, riding highs or diving into lows like there was no in-between. He couldn’t imagine having that much emotional energy to spare. He chalked it up to being a beta, stable, even, the eye of the storm.
Except for Soonyoung, of course. Soonyoung was a beta too, and he was more often than not the one starting the fights Vernon had to break up. But that was Soonyoung’s problem.
The first time Vernon considered it might be his problem too, well, that was Seungcheol’s fault.
Waking up in the middle of the night wasn’t uncommon. With so many people packed into one dorm, there was always a cough or a snore or a burst of scent to jolt someone awake. Tonight, it was Samuel, twitching in his sleep like a dreaming puppy, his small foot gently kicking Vernon’s ribs.
Vernon huffed a quiet laugh, affectionately extricating himself from the bed, careful not to wake the younger boy. He padded silently across the dorm, rubbing his eyes, deciding to make use of his unexpected wake-up by going to the bathroom.
He yawned again, hand groping for the bathroom door, and pushed it open.
The light inside was harsh, too white for the early hour, and it made his eyes water.
The second thing he registered was Jeonghan, one hand down Seungcheol’s pants, the two of them locked in a kiss that was more teeth than lips. Seungcheol was pressed against the counter, arms braced like he was holding himself together, while Jeonghan caged him in with his whole body, dragging his hand in steady, rough strokes that matched the rhythm of their battle for control.
It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t even gentle. It was raw, possessive, messy, and they both clearly liked it.
Vernon froze. He must’ve made a noise because Seungcheol’s eyes snapped toward him, pupils blown, breath stuttering. There was a sudden spike in the air: arousal twisted with surprise, tinged with a flash of something Vernon was startled to recognize- fear.
Fear of being seen. Of being caught. Of being misunderstood.
Vernon said nothing. He simply closed the door with a quiet click, careful not to wake anyone else, and padded back to bed.
He lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, Samuel's warm breath against his back.
He expected to feel flustered. Embarrassed. At least reactive. The room had been saturated with alpha heat, two dominant scents clashing and rising, but Vernon felt… nothing. No flush. No curling in his gut. No quickened breath or lingering desire.
They were both attractive. Objectively so. He wasn’t blind.
But that raw kind of wanting? That burn that people wrote songs about?
It wasn’t in him.
And that realization settled in his chest like a pebble dropped in still water, small, but sending out ripples.
He didn’t sleep much after that. He wasn’t upset, exactly. Just… wondering.
Wondering what it meant that he didn’t want what others wanted.
And what else, maybe, he hadn’t figured out about himself yet.
-
He woke up early, as usual, slipping out of bed with the practiced quiet of someone used to a crowded dorm. The apartment was still dim, sunlight not yet creeping through the curtains, and the kitchen greeted him with its familiar chill. He started making toast, enough to feed the horde of half-asleep boys who’d soon stumble out, ravenous and half-dressed, already complaining about the walk to school.
The scent of cooking bread slowly filled the cramped space, curling warmly into the corners like comfort.
He was turning over slices when footsteps padded in, too light to be Mingyu, too steady to be Jun. Vernon glanced up to see Seungcheol standing in the doorway, uncharacteristically hesitant.
“Hansol, can we talk?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck, his voice soft and uncertain.
Vernon blinked. That tone didn’t fit the alpha he knew, commanding, confident, always in control. This was something else. Vulnerable, maybe.
“Yeah. What’s up?” he asked, leaving the toaster to do its thing as he turned to face him fully.
“About last night-” Seungcheol started, then paused. His mouth opened and closed, clearly grappling with words. “It’s not- we aren’t- Joshua…”
He exhaled hard, running a hand through his hair, tugging a little like the gesture might shake his thoughts loose.
“We’re courting,” he said finally, almost all in one breath. “But we’re also courting Joshua, so it’s not just… The company’s okay with it, there’s approval, it’s all above board. But- yeah. That’s what it is.”
Vernon nodded slowly, already piecing it together. The stolen glances, the easy touches, the quiet nights where one was always missing unless the others were, too.
He didn’t need details to know how rare it was for two alphas to be allowed something like this. He figured the inclusion of an omega made it socially acceptable enough for the company. Maybe they wanted the bit of taboo that came from it for their debut.
“You three seem good for each other,” he added. “You have my blessing.”
That got a real laugh out of Seungcheol, loud and sudden, his shoulders loosening with relief.
Vernon tilted his head, curiosity flickering behind his smile. “Honestly, I thought you were courting Jihoon?”
Seungcheol made a face, more fond than regretful, and scratched the back of his neck.
“We were, kind of,” he admitted. “It never really got that far. Jihoon backed off a while ago. There’s some stuff going on. He’s okay, it's just- not the right fit for him, yaknow?”
Vernon nodded slowly, the puzzle pieces shifting into place. That sounded like Jihoon. All or nothing, never half-measures. Still, there had always been a closeness there, the kind that seemed ready to turn into something else.
“Ah,” Vernon said, softly. “Makes sense. He’s too good for you.”
That got another, brighter laugh out of Seungcheol, who crossed the distance and pulled Vernon into a tight hug, rubbing his cheek into the younger beta’s hair to spread his spicy pepper scent like a proud leader marking his territory. Vernon squawked, trying to wriggle free, but the alpha’s grip was as stubborn as ever.
“Hyung!” Vernon squawked, wriggling like a cat in a blanket, but the alpha was massive and stubborn and affectionate as hell, so he was doomed from the start.
“Let me show my appreciation, beta-nim,” Seungcheol teased, laughing into his hair.
The wrestling match continued until a soft voice cut through the chaos.
“Hey, stop scorching the toast,” Joshua scolded from the doorway, already in his slippers, hair tied back in a loose knot.
Both of them froze like guilty kids, cheeks heating as they rushed to check the now slightly charred slices in the toaster.
Joshua sighed, long-suffering. “Feral alphas and useless betas,” he muttered under his breath, but his voice was warm, amused, as he gently nudged them aside to rescue breakfast.
And just like that, the moment settled. The world spun on. Safe. Simple. Tethered, even in chaos.
–
The changes began small.
A lingering hand on a shoulder that stayed too long to be casual. Shared beds after late-night practices, not just for comfort but something more intimate, something Vernon couldn’t name, not yet. A glance held too long in a mirror reflection. A laugh that curled at the edges into something sharper, more private.
Vernon noticed it first in the way Jun and Wonwoo began finishing each other’s sentences. Not just in the casual way trainees might, from too much time spent together, but in a sort of rhythm that came from knowing someone’s mouth, their timing, their heartbeat.
Minghao had always been soft-spoken, but now his eyes tracked Mingyu through a room like a compass needle. Vernon caught them curled on the couch once, Mingyu half-asleep with his head in Minghao’s lap, and the other alpha running fingers through his hair like it was instinct, like it was home.
Even Jihoon, sharp-tongued, guarded Jihoon, had softened. Vernon found him in the studio once, pressed chest-to-chest with Seungcheol, fingers in the alpha’s hair, swaying slow to a beat that hadn’t been recorded yet. He didn’t get those two.
The pack was… shifting. Like planets finding orbits. And Vernon, for all his ease, all his grounded, beta logic, found himself drifting somewhere in the gravity of it.
He didn’t mind. Not really. He liked watching the ways they all folded together- like origami, sharp creases softening into something beautiful. Joshua and Jeonghan had always had a kind of strange gravity between them, one Vernon hadn’t understood when he was younger. He understood it better now, the way their fingers brushed and thigh rests together. It was affection, yes, but also hunger. Not the kind that came with food. Something older. Something hormonal.
One night, Vernon watched Joshua curl into Jeonghan’s lap after a long day, Jeonghan pressing a kiss to the omega’s scent gland, whispering soft praise into his hair. Joshua leaned on Jeonghan’s shoulder, folding into them like he’d always belonged there. And Vernon- he felt it, a tug somewhere behind his ribs, but it wasn’t arousal. It wasn’t envy, either.
It was longing. For what, he didn’t know yet.
Later, in the hallway, Seokmin nudged him. “Weird, right?” he said, a grin on his face. “All of us turning into some kind of pack-wide love drama.”
Vernon laughed, because Seokmin always made things lighter, easier. “Weird,” he agreed. But it wasn’t a bad weird.
He just didn’t know where he fit in it.
One day, he found Soonyoung and Jun goofing off outside. Practice had long since ended, but they kept moving, bodies a blur of energy and trust. When Jun tackled Soonyoung and straddled him, laughing, Vernon saw the shift, something low and dangerous in Jun’s posture. Soonyoung froze for a beat too long. Then he smiled, slow and easy, and let Jun kiss him.
Vernon looked away.
He found Seungkwan in the kitchen not long after, elbow-deep in flour and something resembling dough. The omega’s cheeks were flushed, his hair dusted white from a wayward cloud of powdered sugar. He looked up and grinned.
“You’re just in time. Taste tester needed.”
Vernon smiled, crossing the room. “What are we baking?”
“Chaos,” Seungkwan said solemnly, and handed him a misshapen, half-burned cookie.
They ate on the counter in companionable silence, the hum of the building around them. Vernon liked these moments best, quiet, still. Like something sacred.
Seungkwan nudged him gently. “You’re watching everyone.”
Vernon froze. “Am I?”
“You’ve got that look again. Like you’re trying to solve a puzzle with your eyes.” He chewed the edge of his cookie. “Everyone’s changing. And you’re trying to decide if you’re supposed to be changing too.”
That startled Vernon. “Is it that obvious?”
Seungkwan tilted his head. “Only to me.”
Vernon didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to explain that he didn’t feel the same pull. Not the scent-heavy drive that seemed to color every interaction lately. He didn’t feel the warmth pooling in his stomach when someone touched him, didn’t feel desire rise like a tide. He didn’t crave the press of bodies or the heat behind lips.
But he craved closeness. Craved Seungkwan’s laugh, the comfort of his shoulder against his, the way their hands would brush and neither of them would pull away.
He liked that. He wanted that.
But did that count as wanting?
-
One night, the scent in the dorm was overwhelming. Someone had forgotten to block properly or maybe they hadn’t wanted to. He wasn’t sure who was in heat, or rut, but there were bodies in the heat room. The air was thick, sticky, a haze of musk and sugar and hunger. Vernon slipped out onto the fire escape, the only place where the air was clean.
Seungkwan found him there, barefoot, hair wild from sleep.
“You okay?” he asked, curling beside him with his arms tucked to his chest like a bird.
Vernon nodded. “Just needed some air.”
They sat quietly. Seungkwan rested his head on Vernon’s shoulder.
“Does it ever feel like everyone else is dancing to a song you can’t hear?” Vernon asked after a long silence.
Seungkwan was quiet for a beat. “Yeah,” he said. “Sometimes. But I think some of us dance quieter.”
Vernon blinked at him. “I don’t think I want to dance like them.”
“That’s okay,” Seungkwan murmured. “You don’t have to.”
And in that moment, with the moon painting silver across Seungkwan’s skin, Vernon felt something close to peace. Because maybe he didn’t need to want the way they did. Maybe it was enough to just be.
And maybe, just maybe, Seungkwan understood that too.
–
It started with small things.
A second mug of tea placed next to Seungkwan’s elbow during long study nights. The way Vernon would find his towel and fold it neatly, slipping it onto Seungkwan’s bed after laundry. He started sitting closer, his knee brushing Seungkwan’s under the blankets. Lingering in the kitchen just long enough to make sure Seungkwan’s favorite snack was in easy reach. Offering to brush his hair after showers when he looked too tired to do it himself.
None of it was new, not really. Vernon had always been attentive, always made space for Seungkwan’s moods and humor and quiet spirals. But now he did it with intention, each gesture a stone laid carefully in the path he hoped would lead to something more.
He didn’t know if it would be enough.
Because Seungkwan was brilliant. Bright like a flame, full of fire and heart, a voice that could command a room or cradle it. Vernon didn’t think someone like him would ever settle for... whatever Vernon was. He didn’t burn like the others. He didn’t feel desire the same way. Sometimes he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to be touched.
Still, he tried.
Seungkwan noticed, of course. With a grin like he’d been waiting for it all along, he leaned into the gestures and returned them tenfold. His head would find Vernon’s shoulder without hesitation. He’d slip notes into Vernon’s jacket pocket, half-scribbled lyrics or hearts with winking faces. When Vernon’s hand brushed his hesitantly in the hallway, Seungkwan laced their fingers together and didn’t let go.
“You know I like you, right?” he said one afternoon, sprawled across Vernon’s lap while they watched a drama neither was really paying attention to.
Vernon blinked. “Yeah?”
Seungkwan tilted his head to look up at him. “Just making sure. You don’t say much.”
“I’m not good at saying things.”
“Then show me,” Seungkwan said, soft. “I’ll wait for the words to catch up.”
The rest of the pack noticed, of course.
Jeonghan teased gently, nudging Vernon’s shoulder when Seungkwan’s giggle echoed from across the practice room. Joshua brought back Seungkwan’s favorite ramen flavor during a grocery run and handed it to Vernon with a wink. Soonyoung started calling them “Beta-Omega power couple” with unnecessary flair, and even Chan started humming love songs when they were in the same room.
Jihoon was more subtle, offering quiet nods of support when their eyes met. Minghao gave Vernon a long, unreadable look one night, then passed him a pillow with a hand-stitched heart on it. Vernon didn’t ask where it came from. He kept it anyway.
Even Seungcheol, usually so protective of the younger omegas, just clapped him on the shoulder one day and said, “He’s his best self around you. Keep being good to him.”
That meant more than Vernon could say.
–
The kiss happened one night after a long walk.
They’d gone out to get ice cream, laughing about the way Jun had nearly set off the smoke alarm again with his experimental hot pot. Seungkwan had his favorite strawberry cone, and Vernon had quietly handed him the last bite of his own.
Back in the dorm’s quiet, on the landing before they went inside, Seungkwan turned to him. “Can I kiss you?”
The question hit Vernon like a soft shock.
He hadn’t expected it. He didn’t know if he wanted it. But when he looked into Seungkwan’s face, open and warm and waiting, something in him ached to try.
He nodded.
The kiss was soft. Warm. Gentle like dusk settling. Seungkwan’s lips were sticky-sweet from ice cream, his hand light on Vernon’s cheek. It was over before Vernon could panic. And when Seungkwan pulled away, smiling just a little, Vernon realized something terrifying.
He wanted to do it again.
So he did. Again. And again.
And he liked it.
Liked kissing Seungkwan a lot. Liked the sound he made when Vernon bit his lower lip just a little. Liked the flutter in his stomach, the sensation of hands in his hair, the way Seungkwan laughed against his mouth.
Which made him panic, just a little, because he thought he already knew what he liked or didn’t like.
Later, when he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, Chan’s breathing soft beside him, Vernon felt the pressure mount behind his ribs.
If he liked kissing so much, if it made his heart race and his mouth curl and his stomach twist, did that mean he would like the other stuff too after all? Was he just slow to catch up? Was there something broken in him that had to be fixed through pushing boundaries? Was kissing the beginning of wanting?
He wasn’t sure.
He only knew he liked kissing Seungkwan.
He didn’t want to push further. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But he also didn’t want to lose this- this soft, blooming thing they were building together.
So he told himself he’d try. Maybe it was just nerves. Maybe he needed to give it more time. Maybe he’d want more later.
He would try.
Even if a small, uncertain part of him whispered: You don’t have to.
–
The dorm was unusually quiet for a Saturday afternoon, with most of the pack out running errands or holed up in the practice room. Vernon and Seungkwan had stayed behind, the air heavy with a different kind of tension that neither of them had acknowledged out loud. It wasn’t something either of them had planned for, but it had arrived in small, almost imperceptible moments: lingering touches, breathless conversations that lasted too long, the way their gazes would meet just a little too long before one of them broke eye contact.
Vernon felt it in his chest, a quiet fluttering that wasn’t quite nervousness but something that had its roots there. His thoughts had been consumed with Seungkwan for weeks now, not just as a friend, but as someone he wanted more from. As someone he needed to give something to.
And so, when Seungkwan had reached for his hand on the couch, his fingers warm and firm, Vernon had let it happen. No words, just the weight of the moment as their closeness deepened, the space between them shrinking until Seungkwan’s lips were pressing lightly against his own.
The kiss wasn’t anything new, they had kissed before, after all, soft, sweet kisses and passionate deep kisses. Kissing Seungkwan had quickly become a favorite activity of Vernon. But today was different. Vernon could feel the change in Seungkwan’s touch, the way his hands moved slowly, almost reverently, over Vernon’s skin. Vernon could feel the heat of his body, the gentle pull of their connection, and it made something warm and unfamiliar coil inside him.
They moved together like they had done a hundred times before in the quiet of their shared spaces, slowly, carefully, as if testing each other’s comfort. Seungkwan’s hands traced the line of Vernon’s jaw, then down his neck, over his chest. He was tentative at first, just exploring, and Vernon mirrored him, tracing his fingers down Seungkwan’s back, feeling the heat of him through the fabric of his shirt. The warmth between them felt good, too good. But it didn’t feel like it was just physical. Vernon could sense the emotion behind it, the trust, the soft, unspoken promise they’d made.
It was gentle, that was the thing. Everything about it was gentle. Even when they moved to the bedroom, the sheets crinkling under their weight, there was no rush, no frantic energy. Just a quiet understanding between them. Vernon’s heart pounded in his chest as Seungkwan’s hands wandered over him, sliding under his shirt, the cool touch of Seungkwan’s fingertips against his skin making him shiver in ways he didn’t know how to articulate.
They were on the edge of something, something big and vulnerable, and Vernon was aware of every second, every touch. He knew that this should be more natural, but he felt like he was performing more than anything. There was an unspoken question in the air, a weight he felt in the way Seungkwan looked at him. It was the look of someone who trusted him, who wanted him.
But when they moved past kisses, when the moment reached that critical point where the air was thick with anticipation, something shifted.
Vernon could feel his body betraying him.
He had been soft for a while now. But when Seungkwan’s hand grazed down, when Vernon tried to press against him, he didn’t respond the way he was supposed to. He could feel the idea of heat, the place desire would fit in him, the aching need in his chest to make this work, but his body didn’t follow. He wasn’t hard, he wasn’t... ready.
Seungkwan paused, the shift in his expression too subtle for most, but not for Vernon. His chest tightened as the weight of the silence settled between them. He could feel his face flush, a warmth rising that wasn’t from the heat of their closeness. It was embarrassment, the sharp sting of failure creeping in. He should be enough for Seungkwan. Why wasn’t he enough?
“I-I’m sorry,” Vernon stuttered, his voice almost inaudible, panic rising in his throat. He pulled away just enough to avoid Seungkwan’s gaze, but Seungkwan immediately caught his arm, pulling him back gently.
“Vernon,” Seungkwan’s voice was soft, understanding. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
Vernon shook his head, frustrated with himself. “No, it’s not. I’m not… I don’t get it. I wanted to, but I... I’m just not-”
Seungkwan shushed him, his hand cupping Vernon’s face, tilting it gently so their eyes met. “Vernon, listen to me. You’re more than enough. More than enough, always.”
“But you’re not-” Vernon cut himself off, his breath shaky.
Seungkwan smiled gently, brushing his thumb over Vernon’s cheek. “Vernon. It’s not about that. It’s about you. About us. This moment, this trust... don’t measure it by anything else.”
Seungkwan’s words wrapped around Vernon like a blanket, soft and warm, and slowly, the tightness in his chest began to loosen, but there was still a dull ache in the back of his mind.
“You’re still mine,” Seungkwan added, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Vernon’s forehead. “We’re still us. Nothing changes.”
Vernon swallowed, nodding slowly, his heart still heavy but slowly settling.
Seungkwan pulled him close, and without a word, they shifted, settling back against the pillows. The weight of their connection didn’t feel any less real, didn’t feel any less important. It was just different. Just... more intimate in a way that had nothing to do with physicality.
“I’m sorry,” Vernon whispered again, his voice barely audible.
“You don’t have to apologize for anything,” Seungkwan murmured, his arms wrapping around Vernon in a tight, comforting hug. “I’m just happy to be with you.”
And despite his fears, Vernon believed him.
–
Seungkwan’s heat was unbearable.
Vernon sat outside the heat room, his hand pressed against the cool wood of the door, listening to the muffled sounds of Seungkwan’s moans. The air around him felt thick, oppressive, as if the entire dorm was holding its breath. Vernon’s chest was tight, his mind racing. He wanted nothing more than to be the one who could help Seungkwan through this. To be the one who could relieve him, make him feel safe, comfort him. But all he could do was wait.
He couldn’t. Not like this.
Seungkwan’s heat had hit unexpectedly, and though the signs had been there, his scent growing sweeter, more intoxicating, his breath becoming shallow, Vernon hadn’t realized just how quickly it would escalate. Seungkwan had barely been able to get a word out before his body had seized with the overwhelming wave of arousal. Vernon had tried, he really had. He’d been there, ready to support him, but when Seungkwan’s body began to ache with need, Vernon had frozen. His body had failed him, his instincts completely non-existent in the face of Seungkwan’s scent, too much for him to process.
It wasn’t just the scent, it was the way Seungkwan’s body reacted, the heat of it, the urgency in his movements. Vernon’s heart had raced, but not the way he had expected. His pulse had spiked with anxiety, not desire. He’d tried to help, but when it came to the physical part, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It wasn’t right. HE wasn’t right.
Seungkwan, his voice breaking with desperation, had realized what was happening before Vernon could even form the words to apologize.
“I-I need... Vernon, please,” Seungkwan had whispered, but Vernon had already stepped back, too ashamed to face him.
Before he could even say anything, Seungcheol had arrived, his alpha instincts kicking in as soon as he saw the panic in Seungkwan’s eyes. The tension in the room had shifted instantly, and Seungkwan’s breathing had steadied as Seungcheol moved in, guiding him away from Vernon’s frozen form and into the heat room.
Now, Vernon was left alone, kneeling by the door, wishing he could do more.
The floor creaked, and Vernon looked up, startled to see Seokmin standing in the doorway, his expression soft and understanding.
“Vernon,” Seokmin said quietly, stepping in and sitting on the floor next to him, “Hey.”
Vernon’s eyes flickered to Seokmin, but he didn’t know what to say. His throat felt dry, and his mind was still spinning with the inability to help Seungkwan. He wanted to scream, to shout at himself for being so useless. But the words wouldn’t come.
Seokmin leaned against the wall beside him, his presence calming as always. He was quiet for a moment, just sitting there, letting the silence stretch between them before he finally spoke again.
“You know, it’s not your fault,” Seokmin said gently, his voice a soft contrast to the tension still lingering in the air. “You’re not the only one who has a hard time with... that kind of thing.”
Vernon sighed, his shoulders slumping. He leaned into the drift beta comfortably “But I should’ve been able to help him. He needed me.” His voice cracked slightly, betraying the guilt he couldn’t shake off. “I couldn’t even... I didn’t even know what to do.”
Seokmin nodded, his expression understanding. “It’s okay to not know. It’s okay to not be able to help in the way you think you should. You’re not broken, Vernon. You don’t have to fit a mold.”
Vernon frowned, looking over at Seokmin, still struggling to make sense of the words. “But I’m supposed to be able to do that, right? I mean, I’m... I’m not like Seungkwan, or like Seungcheol. I’m a beta. Isn’t it my job to... to be there for them?” He looked down at his hands, feeling small, unsure.
Seokmin’s gaze softened, and he placed a hand on Vernon’s shoulder. “Vernon, you’re a beta, but that doesn’t mean you’re required to feel things that you don’t. You can’t force yourself to fit a role just because it’s what everyone else expects.”
Vernon blinked, his mind reeling. “What do you mean?”
“I mean...” Seokmin hesitated, his voice gentle but firm, “Vernon, I think you’ve been ignoring something about yourself. And it’s okay. You don’t have to label it or figure it all out right away, but I think you need to understand this.”
Vernon looked up at Seokmin, confusion in his gaze. “What are you saying?”
“I think... you might be asexual,” Seokmin said carefully, his tone deliberate. “And that’s okay. It doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you. It just means that sex, attraction, desire, whatever you want to call it, doesn’t work the same way for you as it does for others.”
Vernon felt like the world had suddenly tilted on its axis. Asexual? He had heard the term before, but it had never crossed his mind as something that might apply to him.
“I...” Vernon started, his voice shaky. “I never thought about it that way.”
Seokmin nodded, his gaze patient. “It’s a lot to process. But the way you reacted today, how you froze, how you didn’t feel the way Seungkwan was feeling—none of that means there’s anything wrong with you. You didn’t fail him. You just aren’t wired to respond to that in the same way. You don’t feel sexual attraction the way they do, and that’s okay.”
Vernon swallowed, the weight of Seokmin’s words sinking in slowly. “So... I’m not broken?”
“No,” Seokmin said with certainty. “Not at all. You’re just you, Vernon. And you’re perfect the way you are.”
Vernon sat there for a moment, trying to process it all. It was a lot to take in, but it also made so much sense. He had always wondered why he didn’t feel the same pull, the same rush, the same desire the others talked about. He had always chalked it up to something wrong with him, a flaw. But now, hearing it from Seokmin, it didn’t feel like a flaw at all. It just... was.
“I guess I’ve been scared,” Vernon admitted softly. “Scared that I wouldn’t be enough for Seungkwan. Scared that I wouldn’t be able to give him what he needed.”
“You don’t have to give him something you don’t have,” Seokmin said, his voice warm and reassuring. “Seungkwan loves you, Vernon. He’s not looking for someone who’s going to fulfill all the typical expectations. He’s looking for someone who cares, someone who supports him. And you do that, perfectly. We have six alphas. He can get dick somewhere else.”
Vernon nodded slowly, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. He didn’t have to be anyone other than himself. He didn’t have to force himself into a mold just to fit in with the rest of the pack. His bond with Seungkwan, his friendship, his love, was enough.
-
Seungkwan was curled up on the couch in the common room, a blanket tucked around his shoulders and a mug of warm honey water in his hands. The tail end of his heat had passed the day before, leaving behind a kind of hollow stillness in his body. He was exhausted, but content, content and maybe a little nervous.
Vernon stood in the doorway, unsure if he was welcome. Not because Seungkwan had ever made him feel unwelcome- never, but because the ache in Vernon’s chest was still too raw, too confused. He shifted his weight, rubbing at the back of his neck.
“You’re hovering,” Seungkwan said, voice soft but teasing.
Vernon smiled faintly and padded into the room, sliding down to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of the couch, close enough that their knees brushed. “Sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry, dummy,” Seungkwan said, setting the mug down and leaning over, resting his cheek on Vernon’s head. “I missed you.”
“I didn’t go anywhere,” Vernon said, voice quieter than he meant it to be.
“You felt far away,” Seungkwan murmured.
They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the faint ticking of the kitchen clock. Vernon let the warmth of Seungkwan’s touch ground him, even as the uncertainty still twisted in his chest.
“I wanted to help you,” Vernon said finally. “I wanted to be the one there for you. But I just… I couldn’t. I didn’t feel what I thought I was supposed to feel. And that made me feel like I wasn’t enough.”
Seungkwan tilted his head, watching him closely. “You were there, Hansol. That mattered more than anything.”
“But you needed more,” Vernon said. “And Seungcheol- he could give that to you. I couldn’t.”
Seungkwan was quiet for a beat, then reached down and took Vernon’s hand in his own. His fingers were warm and steady. “Can I tell you something?”
Vernon nodded, glancing up.
“I never wanted you to be something you’re not,” Seungkwan said. “When I chose you- when I keep choosing you- it’s not because of what you can give me in heat. Or what you can’t. I love you, Hansol. As you are. I want to be with you, not with some idea of what you think a mate is supposed to be.”
Vernon’s breath caught, the tension in his chest beginning to loosen, thread by thread.
“You don’t have to have sex with me to prove anything. I don’t need that from you,” Seungkwan said gently. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like kissing you. A lot.” He grinned, nudging him with his toe. “But I like you more. All the ways you show up. All the ways you take care of me. The way you listen. That means more to me than sex ever will.”
Vernon blinked, throat thick with emotion. “Even if we never…?”
“Even if we never,” Seungkwan said firmly. “I want you to be my mate, when we’re ready. But we don’t have to rush. We don’t have to mate yet. Courting is still sacred. It’s still a promise.”
Vernon felt like the room tilted slightly, the relief washing through him so fast it nearly knocked the breath from his lungs. “You still want to debut together? Even if we’re not officially mated?”
Seungkwan smiled, eyes soft and steady. “Of course I do. I want to walk on that stage with you beside me. I want us to stand together, just like this. Strong. Secure. Ourselves.”
Vernon didn’t realize he was crying until Seungkwan leaned forward and kissed a tear off his cheek.
“Okay,” Vernon whispered. “Okay. I want that too.”
They stayed like that, pressed together in the quiet dawn of their future. Not mated. Not broken. Just Vernon and Seungkwan, hearts aligned, learning that love didn’t need to fit anyone else’s definition to be real.
–
The dorm still buzzed with a hum of quiet joy, the kind of golden, bone-deep happiness that only came after impossible dreams came true. A half-eaten cake sat on the table surrounded by dirty paper plates, someone’s phone still looped their winning stage in low volume from where it had been forgotten on the floor. A first win, the first step to a long, successful career. A step many groups from companies like them never even achieve. And they got it. They won.
Most of the pack had crashed where they landed, couch cushions, blankets on the floor, arms thrown over each other in loose, easy affection. They were thirteen again, all tangled hearts and found-family glow.
Vernon had slipped away from the chaos when the laughter had turned to yawns, retreating to the kitchen alcove with Seungkwan in tow. It wasn’t planned, they just gravitated to each other the way they always did, the soft pull of something steady and understood.
Now they sat side by side in the too-small kitchen, Seungkwan curled up in Vernon’s hoodie, his cheeks still flushed from the excitement, bottle of sparkling cider balanced between his knees. His voice was hoarse, lips bitten red from crying during the encore. He looked wrecked in the best way: overwhelmed, radiant.
“I can’t believe it,” he whispered for the fifth time that night, fingers brushing absently over the scar on his wrist where Seungcheol’s pack mark had long since healed into something permanent. “We really did it.”
“We did,” Vernon murmured, unable to keep the smile off his face.
He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from Seungkwan’s forehead, then let his hand fall to rest gently on Seungkwan’s knee. The contact was familiar, grounding.
“I’m so proud of you.”
Seungkwan looked up at him, eyes shiny. “Of me?”
Vernon nodded. “You never stopped believing. Even when things sucked.”
Seungkwan snorted, half-laugh, half-tear. “I was terrified every day since we debuted.”
“Me too.”
Their eyes met, and something settled between them. Not a silence exactly, but a stillness, warm and safe.
“I love you, you know,” Seungkwan said softly, the words like an offering, shy but certain.
Vernon’s breath caught. He always knew, of course he knew, but hearing it again, like this, made his chest feel too full.
“I love you too.”
He hesitated for a moment, then brought a hand to Seungkwan’s cheek, thumb brushing gently over soft skin. “Can I kiss you?”
Seungkwan blinked. “You don’t have to ask.”
The kiss was soft at first. Gentle. Familiar and new all at once. Seungkwan tasted like sugar and exhaustion, lips parting under Vernon’s with a little sigh. Vernon deepened it slowly, letting the rhythm stretch, not rushed or hungry, just right. His hand drifted to the back of Seungkwan’s neck, fingers threading into his hair.
They kissed until the world blurred, until the only thing that mattered was the breath between them.
When Vernon finally pulled back, Seungkwan leaned into him, eyes dazed and cheeks pink. “You’re getting dangerously good at that.”
Vernon huffed a laugh, kissing the tip of Seungkwan’s nose. “Can I do more?”
Seungkwan’s brows knit slightly. “Are you… sure?”
Vernon nodded, quiet but firm. “I want to make you feel good.”
“You don’t have to push yourself, baby,” Seungkwan murmured. “It’s okay.”
“I’m not pushing,” Vernon said. “Not really. I like being close to you. I like touching you. I just… I want this to be for you. If that’s okay.”
Seungkwan searched his eyes, looking for any hesitation, any flicker of self-denial. But Vernon looked solid, soft around the edges, maybe, a little nervous, but honest.
“Okay,” Seungkwan whispered. “Yeah. Okay.”
Vernon kissed him again, deeper this time, while his hand moved lower, slipping beneath the hem of Seungkwan’s sleep shorts. The way Seungkwan gasped into his mouth, the way he clung, Vernon felt a quiet kind of satisfaction settle in his bones. Not arousal, not the fire and ache he saw so often in the others, but something just as strong. The desire to give.
He stroked him slow and careful, watching every shift in Seungkwan’s expression, every stuttered breath. He pressed kisses along his jaw, whispered affirmations against his skin. He loved the way Seungkwan sounded, the way his hips twitched, the way his fingers clutched at Vernon’s hoodie.
When Seungkwan came, soft and shuddering into Vernon’s palm, he buried his face in Vernon’s shoulder, biting back a moan that still left his throat wrecked.
Vernon held him through it, kissed his temple, stroked his back.
They sat in silence afterward, the air between them still warm, still humming.
After a few minutes, Seungkwan pulled back just enough to glance down, then looked back up, frowning slightly.
“You didn’t…”
Vernon shook his head, smiling gently. “No.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He reached up, brushed his thumb over Seungkwan’s cheek again. “It’s not something I need. But I liked… this. I liked being close to you. I liked you being happy.”
Seungkwan looked like he might cry. “You always say the sweetest things at the worst times. Did this have to happen on the kitchen floor?”
Vernon laughed, a soft puff of air. “It’s the only time I remember how to be romantic.”
They curled up together on the couch, legs tangled, the air cooling around them. Vernon rested his head on Seungkwan’s chest, listening to the slowing beat of his heart. It was enough. More than enough.
And for the first time, Vernon didn’t feel broken. He didn’t feel wrong.
He just felt loved.
–
The door was cracked open when Vernon passed by, light spilling out into the otherwise dim hallway of their shared dorm. He hadn’t meant to stop, but something in the familiar cadence of Seungkwan’s voice, breathy, high, half-muffled in pleasure, made him pause. He knew that sound. He’d heard it before, but this time, something held him there instead of making him turn away.
He pushed the door open just enough to peek in.
Seungkwan was on the bed, flushed and gasping, knees drawn up, while Mingyu knelt between them, long fingers slick and moving in steady, practiced rhythm. The sight should have made Vernon flinch or retreat. It had in the past, he’d seen glimpses of his packmates tangled together, sharing and loving and giving in that wordless way alphas and omegas often did, and each time he’d felt like an intruder. Like an observer in a world that didn’t quite include him.
But this time… he didn’t feel that. He didn’t feel shame or discomfort. He felt something softer. Curious. Drawn in by the trust on Seungkwan’s face, the focused care in Mingyu’s movements. He knew Seungkwan was sleeping with other members. That’s what the whole pack did, and he was fine with it- happy, even, that his Seungkwan could find fulfillment elsewhere where he couldn't.
Mingyu noticed him first. His hand didn’t stop, just slowed slightly as he looked up, breath coming fast.
“Hansol?” Mingyu’s voice was warm, surprised, but not unwelcoming. “You okay?”
Seungkwan twisted toward the door, blinking through the haze. “Sol?”
“I-” Vernon hesitated, stepping just inside the doorway. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You didn’t,” Seungkwan said gently, voice hoarse but open. “Do you wanna stay?”
The invitation was real. Honest. Vernon felt it settle in his chest like a key turning in a long-locked door.
“I… yeah. I think I do.” He came closer, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, near Seungkwan’s side. “Can I ask something kind of weird?”
Mingyu quirked a smile. “Coming from this group, you’ll have to try pretty hard.”
Vernon laughed, soft and nervous. “Can you show me? What you’re doing? I… want to learn. For him.”
He didn’t look at Mingyu when he said it. He looked at Seungkwan.
Seungkwan reached out, linking their fingers. “You sure?”
“Yeah.” Vernon nodded. “I want to learn how to make you feel good.”
Mingyu leaned back a little, eyes flicking between the two of them, reading the air as carefully as always. Then he nodded. “Alright. Come here.”
Vernon scooted closer, watching intently as Mingyu explained what he was doing- where he curled his fingers, the way he listened to Seungkwan’s breath and his body, the way every little shift mattered. At first he was just showing Vernon what to do, and Vernon watched enraptured at the slick glide of Mingyu’s thick fingers into Seungkwan.
Eventually he swallowed, throat clicking. “Can I try..?” He asked, sounding steadier than he truly felt.
Mingyu smiled when he pulled his fingers out and Seungkwan let out a huffing whine. Vernon scooped up some of the slick coating Seungkwan’s inner thigh vulgarly and felt around. His entrance was loose and warm, skin soft and slick from Mingyu’s treatment. His fingers slipped in without resistance and Mingyu and Seungkwan let out twin groans.
“God, this is fucking hot.” Mingyu quipped, taking hold of Vernon’s wrist and starting to show him how to move his hand. He was gentle in the way he taught, one hand guiding Vernon’s, slow and sure.
“Try that,” Mingyu murmured, twisting Vernon’s hand so the pads of his fingers curled up towards Seungkwan’s belly and leaning back just a little.
Vernon swallowed, then moved his fingers the way Mingyu had shown him, glancing up to check Seungkwan’s face.
Seungkwan’s eyes fluttered shut, breath catching.
“Good,” Mingyu whispered from behind him. “That’s really good, Solie.” His hand was on his own cock, adding another slick sound to the mess the room already was.
Vernon kept going, learning the pace, the rhythm that made Seungkwan whimper, the angle that made his hips twitch. Mingyu added a hand to Seungkwan’s thigh, steadying him, murmuring praise for both of them.
When Seungkwan came, he reached for both of them at once- one hand buried in Vernon’s hoodie, the other gripping Mingyu’s wrist, body arching in pleasure.
Vernon stayed close, kissed Seungkwan’s temple as he came down, fingers still gently stroking until Seungkwan pulled him in and whispered, “Okay. Enough. I’m good.”
Mingyu chuckled, sitting back on his heels. “You’ve got good instincts.”
Vernon looked down at himself, soft, as always,and then back up at Seungkwan, who was glowing, content, completely undone.
And he felt… good. Not aroused, not aching, but good. Full of warmth and satisfaction and a kind of joy he hadn’t expected.
“I liked that,” he said, almost surprised.
Seungkwan leaned up to kiss his cheek. “I know. I could tell.”
Mingyu was still achingly hard and reeking of arousal beside him. He gripped the base of his cock, waving it vulgarly in front of him. “Wanna help me out too?” He offered, sweat sticking to his skin. Mingyu was hot, Vernon knew that. But the slick drying on his fingers was already starting to bother him more than he wanted to admit.
“Nah.” He said bluntly, Seungkwan wheezing out a laugh behind him. Mingyu feigned offence, one sticky hand splayed over his chest like he was aghast Vernon wouldn’t want to jump on his cock.
“I’ve got you.” Seungkwan murmured, rolling over with a huff and almost army-crawling to Mingyu, and there, with a wink towards Vernon, he took Mingyu’s cock in his mouth in one go, pushing down to the root.
Mingyu moaned deep in his chest, sticky fingers curling disgustingly in Seungkwan’s hair, and Vernon was glad it wasn't him, despite how much Seungkwan seemed to be enjoying it. He settled back against the headboard, content to watch Seungkwan bring Mingyu to his peak, the slick sounds doing nothing for Vernon. He enjoyed the scent of their pleasure though, felt warm knowing the two of them were happy and feeling good.
When Mingyu came it was with a wounded noise, curling forward around Seungkwan’s head, thrusting into his throat despite there being nowhere farther to go. Seungkwan took it like a champ, hips twitching uselessly against the bed as if he could get hard again.
When they separated it was with twin gasps and Mingyu flopped onto the bed beside Seungkwan, his head near Seungkwan’s thighs. He tipped his head back to look at Vernon upside-down, a dopey grin on his face.
“Somehow, you watching made it hotter.” He complimented. Vernon snorted, and rolled off the bed, careful to not accidentally kick or elbow either of them.
“I’m gonna go get some towels. You both look… sticky.” He declared, fondness evident in his voice.
“Thanks babe!” “Thanks Solie!”
When they were wiped down and piled into a bed far too small for the three of them. Vernon leaned over and kissed Mingyu. Gentle and firm, like he knew Seungkwan liked. Mingyu blinked owlishly at him.
Vernon shook his head, smiling softly. “Thanks, Mingyu. Really.”
Mingyu winked. “Anytime, really.”
–
He hadn’t made a conscious decision to become more physically involved with the rest of the pack- it just… happened.
He’d been hanging around the company bathroom late one night, waiting for Seungkwan to finish a vocal session, when Soonyoung had slumped against the wall beside him, forehead damp with sweat and frustration. They were alone, tired, buzzed off too many hours and not enough rest. The next thing Vernon knew, he had Soonyoung’s cock in his hand, jerking him off to the rhythm of the studio metronome still echoing faintly through the building. He hadn’t really thought about it, but he had seen the other members pacify Soonyoung with a handjob, and figured it was a good call.
“Thanks, Sol,” Soonyoung had whispered afterward, grinning sheepishly as he zipped up and pressed a grateful kiss to Vernon’s jaw. “I really needed that.”
And Vernon had smiled. Because he hadn’t minded. He hadn’t gotten anything from it physically, but emotionally- he liked being needed. Liked the way his presence could ground someone, help them feel better. Closer. It wasn’t sex, not really. It was something else.
It wasn’t a one-time thing, either.
Sometimes it was Seungcheol, growling under his breath about stress and deadlines, pulling Vernon into an unused stairwell and letting him stroke him off until his shoulders relaxed and his voice softened. Other times it was Chan, red-eared and squirmy, gasping out Vernon’s name as he rode his fingers and then clung to him afterward like he’d never let go.
They never asked. Vernon always offered- when he wanted to.
He didn’t always want to.
Sometimes he stayed curled on the dorm couch while Jeonghan and Jun made out lazily across from him, Jun’s hand in Jeonghan’s shorts and Jeonghan murmuring praise into his mouth. Sometimes he watched Minghao straddle Wonwoo’s lap, the two moving like synchronized dancers, and Vernon just sat there, quiet and content, sipping a bottle of Pocari Sweat and soaking in the warmth of it all.
Other times, he ghosted entirely. If he was overstimulated or touched-out, or just needed space, he’d retreat to the roof or the studio, headphones on, world quiet again.
The pack never made him feel guilty for that.
The first time he tried to go down on someone, Seungkwan, sweet and moaning and desperate, he gagged almost immediately at the taste of slick. Seungkwan stopped everything, hands gentle, eyes wide.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to. I didn’t expect you to-”
“I wanted to try,” Vernon said quietly, licking his lips, already grimacing. “I just… don’t like it.”
“Then we don’t do it,” Seungkwan replied firmly, brushing Vernon’s hair back from his face. “That’s all.”
It was the same with lube. He hated the texture on his fingers, too sticky, too wet, too invasive. The pack learned quickly: they handed him wet wipes, offered other tasks, or simply left that kind of touch to someone else. And Vernon, in return, gave what he could, his hands, his presence. His care.
Because that’s what it really was. Not sex. Not even intimacy, in the traditional sense.
It was care.
Vernon liked watching his pack shiver and laugh and fall apart in each other’s arms. He liked being part of that feeling, of being trusted and welcomed and essential, even without the heat of arousal behind it. He liked helping Soonyoung unravel after a hard practice, or coaxing Seungcheol’s frustration out through quiet touches. He liked holding Chan close after fingering him, the omega dozing off against his chest, totally safe.
He didn’t need to be hard. He didn’t need to be turned on. He just needed to be there.
And sometimes, he just needed to not be. And that, too, was enough.
–
The pack house was quietly loud in the way only a well-loved home could be- full of distant creaks, soft floorboards, and the hum of someone’s playlist bleeding faintly through a cracked door. They had long since abandoned the old, cramped dorm into an expansive pack house, large enough for everyone to have their own room, minus those who wished to share. It was night. Late. The kind of night that wrapped everything in a gentle hush, like the world was holding its breath.
Most of the others were out, some doing final wrap-ups for their recent “Home” promotions, others scattered around the city or tucked away in corners of the house that allowed space and privacy. That had been the plan. A quiet night.
Vernon sat on the edge of the bed in their shared room, knees apart, hands clasped between them, his thumb tracing over the back of his knuckles in slow, absent patterns. He could hear the faint hum of the house around him, the muted press of Jeonghan’s laughter down the hallway, the padded footsteps of Joshua in the kitchen. It felt unreal, this moment- something soft and sacred about the stillness.
Seungkwan was standing near the dresser, barefoot and warm from a shower, his scent thick and soothing, sweet cream and strawberries. He had dried his hair but hadn’t styled it, letting it fall messily over his forehead. His eyes were focused on Vernon, gaze steady, filled with the kind of tenderness that made Vernon feel like he could breathe deeper.
“I still think we can wait,” Seungkwan said quietly, offering the words like a gentle out. His voice didn’t waver, it was soft, but firm. “You don’t have to do this tonight.”
“I want to,” Vernon said after a breath. He looked up, met Seungkwan’s eyes. “We’re ready. I’m ready.”
A knock came at the door, soft and rhythmic. “You two decent?” Jeonghan’s voice floated in.
“Come in,” Seungkwan called without turning away from Vernon.
The door creaked open. Jeonghan stepped in first, barefoot and wrapped in a hoodie two sizes too big. Joshua followed, his presence calm and grounding, and behind them came Seungcheol, wide-shouldered and quiet, his arms folded over his chest. He had done this with Seungcheol once, the pack set together in the living room as they each felt Seungcheol’s teeth pierce their wrists. This was… much more intimate.
None of them carried anything, no gifts or gear or ceremony. Just themselves. Their quiet support. Their steadiness. They weren’t here to join, only to witness, to offer safety if needed, and to honor the moment for what it was.
“You sure?” Jeonghan asked, his tone gentle as his eyes flicked between the two of them.
Vernon nodded once, slow but certain. “Yeah.”
Joshua took a seat near the wall, cross-legged on the rug, folding his hands into his lap with the practiced calm of someone who knew how to hold space. Jeonghan leaned against the doorframe, and Seungcheol, ever the protector, stood tall in the corner, eyes steady but warm.
Seungkwan stepped forward and crawled onto the bed with Vernon, settling across from him, knees brushing. He reached out, one hand lifting to cup Vernon’s cheek, thumb smoothing over the corner of his mouth.
“We’ll take it slow,” he whispered. “You tell me when to stop.”
“I know,” Vernon said, smiling faintly, heart beating wild in his chest. “You always let me choose.”
The kiss came gentle and warm, a soft press of lips that carried no urgency, only reverence. Vernon’s breath hitched, but he leaned in, letting it unfold naturally. Seungkwan’s mouth moved against his with practiced ease, like he already knew how to unlock Vernon’s nerves with just the tilt of his head and the brush of his thumb against skin.
They kissed like that for a while, slow and tender. Then, Seungkwan pulled back just slightly, their foreheads pressed together, breath shared in the small space between them.
“Are you ready?” Seungkwan asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Vernon exhaled slowly. “Yeah.”
Seungkwan leaned in again, this time trailing kisses along Vernon’s jawline, down the side of his neck to the left, where a mate’s claim would rest forever. He paused, letting his breath ghost over the skin.
Then he bit.
It wasn’t harsh- his canines sunk in slow, controlled. The sting made Vernon gasp, not from pain, but from how deep it settled. Not just in his skin, but in his chest. A feeling like electricity. Like fire without heat. He reached out, gripping Seungkwan’s forearm, grounding himself in the familiar.
Seungkwan licked over the mark once, twice, then pulled back, his eyes wide and warm.
“Okay?”
Vernon nodded. “Yeah. Just… intense.”
He leaned in, mirroring the motion, pressing his lips to the curve of Seungkwan’s neck, finding the same vulnerable spot, letting instinct and care guide him. His bite was softer, more of a press than a pierce, but it held. Seungkwan whimpered under him, pleased and relaxed while the taste of him exploded on Vernon’s tongue.
When Vernon pulled back, there were twin marks now, mirrored bruises with faint punctures, beginning to rise on their skin.
The moment held stillness. Quiet awe.
Vernon blinked, and only then realized his breath was stuttering. He placed a hand over his heart.
“Breathe,” Joshua said softly from the rug, voice like warm milk. “You’re okay.” Vernon could smell them all, Joshua’s clean cucumber mint smell, Jeonghan’s spicy orange and Seungcheol’s openly pleased pepper and cashmere.
Vernon let out a shaky laugh and exhaled. His chest felt like it had been cracked open, like he was seeing something inside himself for the first time.
Seungkwan pulled him close, arms wrapping around his waist, anchoring him. “You’re mine now,” he whispered, pressing a kiss just below Vernon’s ear. “And I’m yours.”
Jeonghan stepped closer, brushing a gentle hand through Vernon’s hair. “You did really well,” he said, voice proud. “Both of you.”
Seungcheol nodded from the doorway. “We’re proud of you.”
Then, with quiet understanding, the pack leaders stepped back. Joshua bowed his head slightly, and Jeonghan gave Vernon’s hand a final squeeze before slipping out. The door clicked shut behind them.
Vernon and Seungkwan sat in the middle of their bed, still holding onto each other.
“You feel okay?” Seungkwan asked, brushing a finger along Vernon’s jaw.
“Yeah,” Vernon said. “A little overwhelmed, but… good.”
They lay down together, tangled up under the covers. The scent of their bond lingered—fresh and warm and safe. The room felt fuller, somehow. More theirs.
“I love you,” Seungkwan murmured against his collarbone.
“I love you too,” Vernon whispered back.
And when they fell asleep, it was with hearts full, bodies close, and the soft certainty that they had chosen each other, not for instinct, not for obligation, but for love. Always love.
–
Their third world tour was about to begin. The pack house was chaos.
Half-packed suitcases spilled open on every surface, snacks were being hoarded like wartime supplies, and someone was blasting trot music from the bathroom again. Vernon had long since stopped trying to figure out who.
He was in the corner of the living room, legs folded underneath him, watching it all with a quiet sort of amusement. Seungkwan was darting back and forth, stuffing last-minute vitamins and face masks into their shared carry-on, muttering about hydration and jet lag. Every so often, he’d pause to kiss Vernon on the top of the head in passing.
Soonyoung was trying to zip up his suitcase while simultaneously wrestling Minghao for control of the last portable steamer. Jihoon had barricaded himself in the kitchen to finalize their plane playlists, the sound of lo-fi beats barely audible under the chaos.
Seungcheol strode through the dorm like a general surveying his troops, occasionally plucking someone by the scruff to redirect them. He grabbed Chan, who had just tried to pack six hoodies for a three-week tour, and redirected him to Joshua, who gently took over repacking the bag with patient hands. Seungcheol had fought so hard to participate in this tour- countless hours of physical therapy and painstaking rehab, and he was ready. Nervous, but ready.
Vernon caught his reflection in the mirror by the TV. He looked... calm.
That hadn’t always been the case.
There had been a time when the idea of a world tour, of anything so big and so public, would have made his stomach twist into knots. Not because of the performing, he’d always loved the stage, but because of what it meant to be seen. For so long, he hadn’t known how to exist without contorting himself into a shape people expected. A beta who was just neutral enough to blend in. A boy who didn’t want too much.
But that wasn’t him. Not really. And it had taken years- and a lot of love, to realize he didn’t need to burn bright to be part of the fire.
A familiar arm wrapped around his shoulders. Joshua.
“You ready?” the older omega asked, gentle as always, the kind of warmth that seeped into bones.
Vernon leaned into the touch.
“Yeah,” he said. “I think I am.”
Joshua smiled and ruffled his hair. “We packed extra snacks. Seungkwan’s orders.”
“Of course,” Vernon said with a soft laugh. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Jeonghan passed by and smacked a kiss onto Vernon’s cheek. “Make sure you pack your scent blanket, lover boy.”
“It’s in my bag,” Seungkwan called from the hall without looking up.
“I know. I was checking if he knew.”
Vernon just rolled his eyes fondly.
They were thirteen people, all different shapes and sizes and scents, orbiting each other in a way that only made sense to them. Alphas with omegas. Betas with betas. Lines blurred and redrawn with care and consent and love. They had found their rhythm, messy as it sometimes was.
He spotted Seokmin and Mingyu carrying the last of the luggage to the door, trading shoulder bumps and jokes that Vernon couldn’t hear but made them both laugh. Chan was curled up on the couch now, half-asleep in Wonwoo’s lap, and Soonyoung was harmonizing loudly with the vacuum cleaner while Minghao looked five seconds away from smothering him with a throw pillow.
And in the center of it all, holding it together without needing to demand a thing, was Seungcheol. Their alpha. Their anchor. The scar of his pack mark was embedded on all their left wrists now, a silent declaration of what he had built. What they had chosen. Seungkwan’s scar decorated his neck, high enough for all to see, another notice to the world that Vernon was loved.
Vernon looked down at his wrist, brushing his thumb over the prominent scar. It still tingled, sometimes, when they were all together like this.
When Seungkwan finally came over to sit beside him, he was flushed and triumphant. “Everything’s packed.”
“You sure?” Vernon asked, already knowing the answer.
“I checked twice.”
“Then you’ll check a third time in the car,” Vernon teased.
Seungkwan leaned into him with a laugh, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You’re so annoying.”
“You love it.”
“Unfortunately, yeah.”
The van honked outside. The dorm exploded into motion. A flurry of goodbyes to the space, frantic triple-checks for passports and headphones. But through it all, Vernon moved steadily. Confident. Centered.
He wasn’t the loudest. He wasn’t the boldest. But he knew who he was now. He knew what he brought to the pack.
Not the fire.
The hearth.
He stepped out the door with Seungkwan’s hand in his, the cool scar on his wrist warmed by skin and sun.
The future waited. And he was ready for it.
He did, however, forget his passport.
Seungkwan remembered for him.