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Namjoon was used to too-bold alphas and betas who thought they were much more clever than they were. He was used to them offering dramatic sob stories about why they weren’t able to pay him back just yet, he was used to bargains and offers and deals, he was used to doling out consequences for skirting payments and generosity for those who deserved it. He was more used to violence than he would like to be.
But he mostly handled the paperwork for Bangtan, if he was honest. He was the unfortunately needed bureaucracy. He was in charge of the money and accounts and laundering for what he truly considered a relatively ethical gang, working out of exclusive strip clubs and high-class restaurants, keeping away from the drug trade. There was a general Robin Hood-esque attitude of doing no harm, and, in fact, doing good to those who deserved it.
He’d been in Bangtan since he was a kid looking for trouble on the streets. He’d been taken in when the grift he was running at eighteen was more elegant than those put on by experienced scam artists, and applauded for doing so, especially when the people who dragged him into a warehouse told him they’d been watching him, and had seen him provide for a single mother a few doors down from him and a childless elderly couple a few floors below.
And the alpha who had ordered him to be caught and brought to his office, who had taken Namjoon under his wing and taught him every trick of the trade, who Namjoon had almost immediately respected more than he had ever respected anyone before, opened up a world Namjoon had never known before. A world of success and stability, even as dangerous as it was. A world of danger and risk. A world where he could make a difference from behind the scenes. A world where he just happened to be very good at dealing with the money.
A world where he met the love of his life.
His mentor’s omega son had no interest in a leadership role in the not-so-seedy underground of Bangtan, no matter how sharp and talented he was. Yoongi was much more content to help out at the strip club as a manager when he was needed, or to work as a host when one of the restaurants was short staffed. He was even more content to do whatever the hell he wanted, from composing to woodworking to home decorating to being trained as a doula ‘just in case.’ He was even more content to come home to Namjoon every night for the past ten years, though Namjoon was still sure his contentment couldn’t compare to Namjoon’s own when he laid beside him and traced over the bite on his neck.
Namjoon wished he could enjoy the contentment he felt just looking at him while he was at work, but the numbers wouldn’t keep themselves no matter how much he pouted at them to do so. At least Yoongi was there in his office, his presence brightening Namjoon’s life even as his omega just stretched out on the sofa scrolling on his phone. And even more unfortunately than the paperwork, his meetings with debtors wouldn’t run themselves, either.
Yoongi merely sighed at the knock on the door, not bothering to get up to open it. Namjoon only called out “Enter.” The asshole he was meeting with didn’t deserve more politeness than that.
“Dragon,” the alpha greeted, the name dripping with all the disdain he could manage. It was a bad move from the beginning; Namjoon was entirely unimpressed. Dragon was much more preferable than being called a shark, though. He only preyed on chaebol blood in the water. The seals around them would always be unharmed.
“Sangyul-ssi. I hope you’ve come with a gift for us.”
He was a chaebol who had defaulted on his payments too many times, a gambler who threw around money that wasn’t really his, and a stupid frequenter of the clubs in Bangtan’s name. Namjoon had just happened to be working in the back office of the one he walked into today. He did like when he could take stupid debtors by surprise.
“You haven’t picked up my calls, Sangyul-ssi,” Namjoon sighed. “I’m willing to be kind to you still. Your family owns an apartment complex in Hongdae that we have an interest in. I’m willing to pardon your three missed payments in exchange for the deed.”
Sangyul was stupider than Namjoon thought.
“You want to take what’s mine?” he snarled, and Namjoon would have to have a word with security about tightening up, because he lunged at Yoongi with a knife. “I’ll take what’s yours!”
Just because Yoongi was a trained and capable fighter didn’t mean Namjoon didn’t feel a deep fear in his stomach and a rage in his heart. Yoongi fought him off with a vicious growl and kneed his groin before the knife could do anything but knick his neck, but even a single drop of blood was far too much for Namjoon.
He shot him point blank, and watched his body slump on his omega. It wasn’t the first person Namjoon had killed and it wouldn’t be the last. It wasn’t even the first Yoongi had to shove off of him with a grimace, either.
Namjoon stared at the body bleeding out on the office floor with an aggravated sigh. “Fucking idiot.” He opened the door and the guard in front of it was already on the phone with their regular sanitation crew. “Call the precinct next. Request our usual.”
He didn’t care for the cops getting involved, but there was no helping it when it came to death. They had to go through the proper channels. At least it would give Sangyul’s parents time to decide what lies they would feed the public about their shameful failure of a son's demise.
Yoongi was already pulling up the official paperwork they had to submit for a justifiable defense, and Namjoon began exporting the security camera files. They kept them running everywhere for a reason, despite being a large part of Seoul's underground. If he had to go to court, which he doubted he would with such clear justification, it would be a quick in and out case.
At least Sangyul’s death would be considered paid off after title transfers went through. He knew he had more than one vacation house and his stupid watch collection was enough to give their coffers a little extra in their own right.
Yoongi sighed as he sent the filled out paperwork for Namjoon to sign. “Can we get Thai for dinner?”
Namjoon perked up. “Ah, yes, please. I’ve been craving pad see ew.”
-
When his lawyer called him to his office a few days later, there was more than a stack of deeds and liquefiable assets in his hands. Namjoon stared at the file in front of him, flipping through it once, twice, before looking up at him.
“I can arrange a private auction,” the lawyer said. “But other than that, rehoming is not my expertise. If you’d like, I can dig up some recommendations.”
Namjoon stared at him, then the folder. He counted the pages like the number might have changed. Five.
“I’ll meet them first,” he decided. “Then figure out what to do. Thank you.”
“I’ll have them delivered to your home if that’s amenable to you. I’ll send the cars to the usual garage. I will warn you, though, Namjoon-ah—I can’t imagine my omega would be happy with another showing up at my door, much less five of them. An annoyed omega will make this even more annoying to deal with. I can have them sent to the garage as well and you can inspect them there—”
“No,” Namjoon interrupted. Yoongi might be annoyed, but he would be much, much more so if he found out he’d sent them somewhere so—industrial. And he wasn’t something to be ‘dealt with’ regardless. But that was not the prevailing opinion of society, and he was hardly enough to change that. Yoongi liked being underestimated, anyways, by everyone but him. “Send them to mine. I would like those rehoming center recommendations, though. I trust you know my ethics enough to do appropriate research.”
“I do. And if I don’t, my secretary does. I’ll speak to you soon, Namjoon-ah.”
-
Namjoon expected delivery to take a few more days, enough to warn Yoongi about their upcoming guests beforehand. When he got caught up by unavoidable work before he could even call him, he figured it wouldn’t matter too much. They could talk about it over dinner, or maybe in bed. Yoongi liked to tease him that he was at his smartest when Yoongi was on his knot.
But when he got home and walked in, there was an odd scent in the air, muted and omegan and anxious, along with the familiar orange bergamot of his mate. There were no cars out front, the scents weren’t any of their friends, he didn’t smell anything but omegas.
Yoongi’s scent overpowered it all, rich and pleasant, exuding comfort like he did when Namjoon was anxious or stressed or even in rut. But everything else—
It was like everything but Yoongi disappeared as soon as Namjoon walked into the sitting room. Every unfamiliar scent became even more muted, so much so it was like they were erased. Every noise stopped, silence falling over the room with an unnatural stillness.
Yoongi looked at him calmly. “Namjoon-ah. I don’t believe you’ve met our guests yet.”
“I haven’t,” Namjoon agreed. He kept his voice carefully neutral, verging on pleasant. He glanced around and gave the only one who was daring to look at him a polite bow of his head. The omega flinched almost imperceptibly but did not look away. “I hope your journey wasn’t too difficult.”
“Considering they arrived in chains—”
Namjoon’s eyes widened as he looked back to Yoongi; he felt a spike of fury in his veins that was not only his own. Their mating bites were ones to brag about. There were very few mates who felt each other as strongly as they did. Though considering how omegas were looked down upon by society, maybe it just wasn’t spoken about at all.
Yoongi deliberately calmed himself, rolling his shoulders briefly. “I haven’t had the chance to prepare rooms for them, but Seokjin-ssi assured me that they would prefer sharing one.”
Namjoon glanced back at the omega who was still staring at him. They had a leader, then. A de facto pack alpha. “I can prepare it, if you wouldn’t mind starting dinner.”
“No, no, I’ll take care of it,” Yoongi said with a shake of his head. “Come upstairs with me, though. I don’t think we’re ready to be left alone with a strange alpha. No matter if that alpha is apparently theirs now.”
Namjoon winced. “It was a busy day.”
“No shit.” Yoongi quirked a brow but there wasn’t too much annoyance in his pointed tone. “And like hell am I making dinner tonight. Do you think I can cook for seven people on such short notice? We’ll just order in.”
He grabbed his hand as he led Namjoon out of the sitting room, squeezing it tightly as he went up the stairs. He wasn’t furious then, Namjoon could be sure now. He didn’t like touch when he was angry.
Yoongi pursed his lips when they reached the top of the stairs, looking at him seriously. ”Their alpha was an idiot.”
Namjoon nodded.
“How the fuck he afforded to keep five omegas but couldn’t afford to pay his debts is beyond me. But I can tell you he didn’t treat them well. I’m sure that’s not any surprise.”
“Not at all.” Namjoon sighed, taking his other hand. “I’m sorry, hyung.”
Yoongi gave him a sharp glance before softening. “It’s not—well, it is your fault, but not really. You were protecting us, and now—”
“My lawyer suggested rehoming them. He’s researching recommendations if we decide to go that route.” He wasn’t surprised when Yoongi quickly shook his head. He hummed, squeezing his hands. “I thought—we might be able to do better by them in the long run. If they do need to be rehomed, we can do it privately.”
Yoongi nudged him away from the door to the largest guest room and Namjoon leaned against the hallway wall, keeping his scent out as much as possible. “They’re traumatized, Joon. And I doubt anyone would be willing to take in five omegas. Anyone else, I guess. And they’d die before being split up, or they’d at least try to run.”
“Yeah, well,” Namjoon sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Yoongi,” he said sincerely. “This is a lot.”
“It is. But—I’ve been getting bored, you know. When I’m home alone.” Namjoon knew that wasn’t entirely a lie, even though it might be an exaggeration. Yoongi had always been good at keeping himself entertained.
He considered him for a moment; the way he aired out the room, made sure the sheets were straight, took a few trips to the linen closets in the hall to give them as many nesting materials as possible. He doubted that the omegas would feel safe enough to nest, but it was good to be prepared. It was good that Yoongi wanted to be prepared.
“I’ll order a bunch of stuff, unless you have any idea what they like.”
“I’m not sure if they know what they like. I don’t know if you saw, but they’re thin, and the bruises all over them, over all of them—” He sucked his teeth. “Order some simple things, too. Stews and broths and whatever. I’ll make sure they know they don’t have to eat all of it and that it won’t be taken away, and we’ll have to call that good for now.”
Namjoon pulled out his phone, going through some of their favorite delivery places. “I thought we’d have a few days to talk about it before they were brought here.”
“It would have been nice, but I’m glad they came here before some holding center. They’re almost as shitty to omegas as legal alphas can be. Their pack omega said they’d been kept in Sangyul’s apartment for the past few months.” He glanced at Namjoon. “And he didn’t say it outright, but I think he was pleased to hear that he died.”
“Can’t blame him for that. Were they very talkative before I got here?”
“I wouldn’t say talkative. Seokjin-ssi spoke the most, asking what would happen. One of them asked about you, though.”
“About me?”
Yoongi hummed, giving the room another once over to make sure it was prepared enough for them. He adjusted a pillow and went into the en suite bathroom to organize the toiletries before deciding it was good enough. “I told them the truth, obviously. I’m glad you don’t give me a lot to lie about.”
“So they know I’m a clumsy dumbass?”
Yoongi rolled his eyes, closing the door before coming to plaster himself against Namjoon’s chest. “Shut up. You’re not allowed to say that about yourself.”
“But you are?”
“Exactly." Yoongi hummed as Namjoon held him close, pressing a kiss to his hair. “I told them you’re one of the good ones. A really good one. That you don’t hit me or—” He clicked his tongue at Namjoon’s sharp inhale. “They needed to hear it, Joon-ah. You know that’s not as typical as it should be. I told them that you won’t bother them like—you know. They didn’t believe me, obviously, but.” He sighed. “I’m glad they came here and not—anywhere else.”
“Still,” Namjoon muttered. “I’m sorry.”
“It is what it is, alpha. And they seem nice enough. I’ll be happy to meet them again when they’re not terrified out of their minds.”
Namjoon nodded. “Me, too.” And because he was an alpha, good one or not, he couldn’t help but blurt out, “They’re really pretty, aren’t they?”
Yoongi sighed heavily, but even with his face hidden in his chest, Namjoon could hear the fond smile on his face. “Shut up, Namjoon.”
-
They were well-versed in being quiet. It was hard to be unseen, with the five of them inseparable until they were forced away, but at least they could be unheard. Sangyul tended to ignore them until he wanted to fuck or share with friends or get his frustrations out in the worst ways, but they had learned over the years how to lessen his attention as much as possible.
And, as always, they followed Jin’s lead.
He waited until he heard footsteps upstairs and waited another two minutes to make sure they weren’t coming down before nodding once.
“Hyung,” Taehyung whispered immediately, voice low and worried and striking every chord in Jin’s heart. He did his best to not let it show.
“It’s okay, Tae-yah.” He opened his arms and he tumbled into them, his movements quiet even in their clumsiness. “It’s okay. We’ll learn.”
Learn the rules, he meant. Learn what floorboards creaked and what food they wouldn’t be able to sneak and how loud was too loud behind closed doors. They’d learn if they’d be allowed a closed door, too. There was a lot to learn.
The omega they’d met had said his alpha was one of the good ones, but Jin had never met a good alpha. He wasn’t convinced they were anything but a fairy tale fed to young omegas to keep them hopeful. He’d seen plenty of alphas take joy in crushing that hope with a terrible fist.
Sangyul hadn’t been his first. He hadn’t been able to afford more than a used omega then, and Jin was used enough to be heavily discounted. He was only twenty-four when Sangyul won him at the auction house, but he was one of the older ones there. Alphas liked fresh-faced omegas with life still in their eyes. Jin remembered feeling lucky he was still young enough to not be sent off to a breeding house, or one of the factories he’d heard even more horror stories about.
Sangyul hadn’t even been his worst alpha, either. He was stupid enough to be subtly manipulated, especially at first. He was susceptible enough to Jin’s scent for him to sway his emotions just enough to avoid being hurt. He got smarter, though, unfortunately. Or perhaps Jin just got stupider. When he started collecting other omegas (and Jin wasn’t sure how he afforded them; they were younger and fresher and much more unused, from centers rather than auction houses, and must have cost a pretty penny), Jin focused on something rather than his own survival for once.
Hoseok came first, not too much younger than Jin but much more hopeful. Jin remembered him asking if Sangyul was nice, and Jin couldn’t bring himself to be the one to crush that hope. He couldn’t lie to him, either, of course. And perhaps he crushed that hope all the same when he didn’t answer, but at least Hoseok was more prepared. They were quick to bond, and Jin liked to think they would have bonded so well even in the best of circumstances, not just forced by proximity or danger. Hoseok had the most beautiful smile and a comforting scent and looked to Jin like he was his leader but guided Jin to his side like he was the pillar that kept him standing.
Taehyung and Jimin came next, a bonded pair who did not ask if Sangyul was nice because he had proved that he wasn’t before they’d even gotten home. They came from some center outside of Seoul, and Sangyul had plenty of time to show them exactly what kind of alpha he was on their way back. They were wary of Jin and Hoseok at first, used to other omegas at the center they’d been trained in for the past few years using all manners of cruelty and cunning to earn their caretakers favor (something they understood, something they’d been forced to take part in, but something that bred distrust either way). But when Jin and Hoseok shared their food instead of snatching theirs, invited them into the nest instead of making them sleep on the cold floor, whispered how to best please their alpha to get back to safety sooner—
Taehyung was the first one to say Jin was their pack omega, the first one to solemnly swear he would follow him anywhere, as if there was anywhere they could go. Jimin had been the first one to beg for Jin to scent him because smelling like his pack omega made everything feel a little better. Hoseok had been his perfect second, waiting til their pups were asleep to help soothe the blood and bruises Sangyul had left on him, and knew better than to suggest that Jin stop taking the worst of their alpha’s anger on his shoulders because he knew he wouldn’t.
And Jungkook—
He’d cried the second the alpha left him in the omegas’ room, and had been Jin’s baby from that very first moment where he allowed himself to be bundled into his chest and get tucked into the nest and receive all the scentings and cuddles that they could give him.
He was the most expensive of them all, the freshest and youngest and the only true virgin Sangyul had ever purchased. He was sweet and innocent and was everything good in the world, and he was the reason why they hatched the plan.
They’d had it all figured out, for the most part. They’d been sneaking valuables away, trinkets Sangyul didn’t care about and rings he forgot existed, and every single coin they’d found between couch cushions and bills from the laundry. Taehyung had figured out the code to the door, Jimin had managed to sketch out a route on a map of the transit system he’d found when he took out the trash, Hoseok had made scent suppressors through trial and error and tiny unnoticed amounts from the medicine cabinet, Jungkook would act as a lookout and sentry, and Jin—
Jin felt useless, really, at least in preparation. But he would be their leader, he would take them away, he would find somewhere secret and secluded and safe. He would make sure they would never be taken by a cruel alpha ever again.
And then Sangyul had to get himself killed.
It took months to get the courage to run. It took more to gather the ability. And now—
“He’s one of the good ones,” Yoongi had said. Jin didn’t believe it for a second.
-
The amount of food Yoongi and Namjoon had laid out on the table was akin to a feast, something out of story books, but with a modern twist of styrofoam containers and disposable chopsticks. Ramyun and stew and kebabs and pasta and curry—Jin glanced at Jungkook, and as wary as he was of this entire situation, he could have smiled at the eager, amazed look on his baby’s face. He would do anything for a good meal.
The thought made him turn a suspicious glare towards the alpha, but Namjoon didn’t seem to notice. Or at least he didn’t pay it any mind. He just collected the plastic bags and opened the boxes and did not hit Yoongi when he shoved his shoulder.
“Leave,” Yoongi said. He blinked. “Wait.”
Namjoon simply stood by, following his omega’s directive. Yoongi piled food on a plate and handed it over, practically shoving it at him. Namjoon took it with a slight bow of thanks.
“Don’t forget to get a drink. And don’t get turmeric on the carpet again—”
“I won’t!” he promised with something akin to a whine. “Leave the dishes, okay? I’ll do them tonight.”
“It’s my turn but I won’t say no. Go.”
Namjoon did not yell, did not hit, did not let out a dangerous spike of his stormy scent. He just—gave a quick kiss to Yoongi’s temple and left, going off down the hall, a door closing somewhere near the back of the house just a moment later.
“He’s eating in his office,” Yoongi told them, like it was any of their business. “He’s going to make some appointments for you. General checkups, nothing crazy.” He glanced at them, meeting Jin’s eyes for just a moment. “No gynecologists yet. I want you to meet some. No one you’re not comfortable with will touch you. I told him to make appointments with our personal doctor. She’s a beta, her partner’s an omega I do yoga with sometimes. If you don’t like her, though, we’ll find someone you do.”
“Don’t like doctors,” Jungkook whispered, the first thing he had said in front of anyone but his omegas in years. Even to Sangyul, especially to Sangyul, he was silent, quiet, meek. That wasn’t him, not in reality. But Jin was glad he was a good actor when it mattered.
Yoongi’s shoulders relaxed, just a little, smile already a little fond. Good. Jungkook deserved fondness, even from someone who had not escaped Jin’s suspicions. “Ah, not many people do.” He glanced, met Jin’s eyes again. He was the only one who was looking up, even with the alpha out of the room. “You can all stay together if you’d like. You don’t have to go alone.”
Jin stared at him for a moment. “Why?”
Yoongi hummed, but he didn’t need to ask for clarification. He grabbed a stack of papers from the counter, passing them over before he took a seat at the table, waving his hand to invite them to do the same.
Jin glanced at him warily before he took a seat, pulling a chair closer to his for Jungkook to sit in. Jimin and Taehyung would plaster themselves to Hoseok’s side, he didn’t need to worry about favoritism. They papers didn’t have much, Jin saw as he flipped through, just their names, birthdates, blood types, ownership history, vaccination records—
For such a fancy omega center, they were clearly more focused on Jungkook’s sexual training than maintaining his health.
Jin read through them again. It didn’t take long. “This is it?”
Yoongi nodded. He was plating food for them now, when it became clear they wouldn’t do it themselves. “That’s it. So if there’s anything we need to know—”
“No,” Jin said, though that was not true at all. Improperly healed broken bones and Jimin’s sensitive stomach and Hoseok’s cough that came back every few months, phobias and feared punishments that could be used against them, a history of pains and injuries from rough fucks and all sorts of other things. He did not need them to know any of it. “There’s not.”
Yoongi nodded, even though Jin was pretty sure he could easily call his bullshit. “Okay. Here, is there anything you don’t like, Seokjin-ssi?”
When his fork hovered over the pasta, Taehyung cleared his throat, shaking his head. “Hyung’s allergic to garlic.”
Jin almost wanted to feel like it was a betrayal, especially after he said there was nothing he needed to know, but the way Yoongi skipped over it to dip into a crab boil without a second thought made up for it.
-
Yoongi closed the door to the guest room after bidding the omegas goodnight. He’d told them how to adjust the shower probably too many times, had shown them how to lock the door hopefully enough to convince them they were allowed to. He didn’t linger when Hoseok had run a hand over a fluffy throw Yoongi had set out, or when Jungkook sat on the edge of the bed with a happy noise over the firmness. He left them with another reminder that they were free to move the furniture around, especially if they wanted the mattress closer to the floor, and forced himself to close the door.
He hesitated before walking down the hall, only taking a breath when he heard the lock snick behind him.
Namjoon was nude when he came into the bedroom, and Yoongi pouted at how he didn’t feel like fucking when his favorite sight was right there.
Namjoon toweled off his hair, grumbling performatively when Yoongi came close to grab, pushing his hip to turn him around. “I can do it myself.”
Yoongi smacked his ass lightly, drying off his back. “Then why don’t you?”
“Maybe I just like you doing it for me.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, unimpressed.
“How are they?”
“As good as they can be, I guess. I heard them lock the door so that’s good.”
“Is it?”
Yoongi nodded, throwing the towel at his face when he finished drying him off. Namjoon caught it with a grin. “It means—or I hope it means—that they don’t think you’ll get angry with them if you realize it’s locked. Or that they can deal with it if you are, I guess. Both seem good.”
“Do they? Both seem—not good.”
“Again, baby. As good as it can be.”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “You’re right. I made the appointments for in office, but I warned them I might ask for home visits instead.”
“In office is probably better. Jungkook said he’s scared of the doctor, I don’t want there to be bad memories anywhere in the house.”
“He’s the youngest?”
“Mm. Doe eyes.”
“He’s cute.”
“They’re all cute.” He gave him a look. “I wouldn’t say so in front of them, though. Seokjin might rip your throat out. He’s protective of his omegas. They’re protective over him, too.”
Namjoon nodded. “I wouldn’t say something like that anyways. I don’t want them to think I’m, you know. Not what you said I was.”
“I know. You’re my good alpha. We just need them to realize that, too.”
-
The nest they had left behind had been shitty, but it had been theirs. But it had also been filled with so many scents that were soured even if they were familiar that this—bundles of clean sheets and soft blankets and sturdy long pillows that would be so nice for the borders—was enough to put their stress at the loss a little more at ease.
And the things Yoongi had given them, a massive pile to pick and choose from—
“Jungkookie,” Jin said quietly, though he couldn’t bring himself to really chastise.
Their puppy was just eager and looking for comfort, and out of all of them, he was the most tactile. He was the main architect of their nest, too, and a wonderful one at that. Jin wasn’t sure how he managed to make it just right for all five of them; he didn’t even blink when his pack made adjustments to his work. Jin knew nesting was his biggest comfort (other than the comfort of his omegas), but even if Yoongi had told him they could use whatever they wanted, it seemed too good to be true. He couldn’t bear to see Jungkook dive into comfort just to have it ripped out from under him.
(Because Sangyul had done that more than once. They usually knew how to move around him, but sometimes what he wanted changed without them noticing. When he didn’t feel like hitting them, or felt like punishing all of them in one fell swoop, he’d storm into their tiny room and destroy the nest that Jungkook had worked so hard on, that they all buried themselves into to feel safe for just a moment. Jungkook wouldn’t cry until he was gone, and sometimes not even then. They would sneak loads of laundry when Sangyul left the apartment and they knew he’d be gone for at least a few hours, and he hadn’t locked their door. The smell of his rage and his cruel hands lingered too much to rebuild the nest until it was gone.)
Jungkook had laid himself on the pile of nesting materials as soon as Hoseok had turned the lock, breathing in the clean fabric and exploring different textures with his hands without looking up. He hummed at Jin’s voice but didn’t move.
His little pack needed a leader. They always had. Jin should snap, he thought, should scruff him and put him in time out for disobeying and lecture them all about not trusting these strange people even if they seemed better than Sangyul, even if one of them was an omega, even if the alpha hadn’t so much as glared at them. But after the past few weeks, when Sangyul’s anger had been at its peak, when they had all received lashes and fists, when he hadn’t been able to protect his pack the way he wanted to, needed to, the way their escape plan and dreams and hope shattered even as something in his heart healed when Yoongi had told them “Your alpha is dead. My alpha killed him. By law, you’re his now—ours—and we will take care of you to the absolute best of our abilities. You’re safe now. I’m sorry for what you’ve been through, but—you’re safe.”
He was tired. He was tired.
“Okay,” he muttered instead of snapping, scolding, scruffing. He was tired. “In that corner, we can get in the closet if we need to.”
Jungkook eagerly got to work, thrusting things at his hyungs seemingly at random but surely purposefully for them to scent. As always, the things Jin scented ended up at the top of the nest, near the middle, where Jungkook tended to sleep. Jimin helped build the walls up to keep things from slipping under the bed at Jungkook’s wordless insistence, and Taehyung used his Jungkookie-sense to anticipate what he would want to work in next.
Jin didn’t need to ask Hoseok to quietly work a chair under the door handle. Even if it would make the strange alpha mad if (when, Jin couldn’t help but think), it would at least give them a little bit of time to barrage themselves in the closet. And even if that would make him even more mad, it would give Jin enough time to push them all behind him, ready to take everything the alpha gave him so long as it meant he left his omegas alone.
He was tired, but he would never be too tired to do that.
“Yoongi is nice,” Hoseok said quietly.
Jin closed his eyes. His hopeful omega, the first member of his little pack. Jin would forever be a skeptic so his Hoseokie didn’t have to be.
“For now,” he said, even quieter.
Behind them, Jungkook giggled when Jimin tickled his chin, pushing him into the nest so there would be enough Jungkook-scent to go around. Jin’s heart ached.
“We should sleep. We can plan tomorrow.”
Jin didn’t hold his pack closer that night. It was impossible to hold them closer than he already did.
-
Yoongi knocked on the door the next morning, quietly enough to not wake them if they were still asleep.
Rather, he wouldn’t have woken omegas who weren’t wide awake and alert at the first sign of danger. As it was, they all shot to full awareness as soon as they heard barely audible voices down the hall, one with the unmistakable tone of an alpha. It didn’t matter how vehemently Yoongi insisted he was a good one, there was no chance the sound of an alpha wouldn’t set them on edge.
At Jin’s strangled “Yes?” Yoongi told them breakfast would be ready in half an hour, and they were welcome to come down at any time. If not, he said, he would bring food up to them. Jin was tempted to push their luck, to not answer or to say they wouldn’t join him, but he wouldn’t risk his pups’ safety more than was already inherent in their situation.
“We’ll be down shortly,” he said instead, glancing back at his pack.
They heard Namjoon pass down the hall just a few moments later, and Jin couldn’t help but feel like a fool when he led his pack downstairs expecting the alpha to have left the house, only to find him sitting at the head of the table, with pajamas and bedhead and a paper in hand.
“Good morning,” Namjoon said, giving them a polite smile and bow of his head.
Jin was frozen, staring, and felt like a failure when it was Jimin who bowed low first with a “Good morning, alpha-ssi.” His pup should not have to take the lead like that.
“Ah, please, call me Namjoon.” He stood, all of the omegas tensing almost painfully. “I’ll help Yoongi bring the food out, please sit. Would you like coffee? Juice? Milk? Water?”
“Joon-ah,” Yoongi muttered, coming in to poke his back. “If you shut up, maybe they’d have room to answer.”
Namjoon grinned bashfully. “Good point. Sorry.”
Yoongi looked to them and clearly expected an answer. Jin was busy watching the alpha from the corner of his eye, and Hoseok cleared his throat. “Water’s fine,” he said quietly.
Namjoon bowed his head and went to the kitchen, leaving Yoongi to look them over. “Did you have a restful night?”
Jin pursed his lips. He, Hoseok, and Jimin had woken at every quiet creak of the house, every brush of the wind in the trees. Still, he nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”
Yoongi accepted it with a hum. He went to help Namjoon bring out the food—so much food, nearly as much as the night before. They hadn’t eaten anything but scraps for so long that Jin felt full just looking at it. Jungkook, on the other hand—
Jin put a subtle hand on his leg and Jungkook straightened, nodding once in understanding. He wanted his baby fed, but taking too much risked punishment, and they weren’t yet sure of what that punishment could even be. He’d make sure to sneak his pups bites when he could, though. He would much rather go hungry than see them eye their plates like they would eat the ceramic, too.
It didn’t matter that Namjoon invited them with a “Please, help yourselves,” they didn’t move until Yoongi started serving them himself, spooning out congee into bowls and meat onto plates. He hesitated before filling them entirely, though, and Jin was glad. They would eat everything in front of them, because not doing so could warrant a punishment, too, but much more than what they had already been given could make him sick.
Namjoon and Yoongi made occasional comments, but that was the only sound. Jin and his omegas were careful to not even scratch their plates. Jin, though, couldn’t help but be interested in Yoongi’s mug.
“Isn’t caffeine poisonous to omegas?” he blurted.
Yoongi grinned but it was Namjoon who answered. “It’s hardly poisonous, but it’s not good for anyone, really. I only recently convinced hyung to switch to half-caf so he’d stop buzzing all night.”
“It wasn’t all night—”
“Until three in the morning, then. I’d be dead asleep and he’d shake me away to tell me about some realization he’d had about turtles—”
“I’ve never talked about turtles once in my life,” he said, turning his chin up at Namjoon’s pointedly amused look. “Either way—we have decaf, too, if you’d like to try some, Seokjin-ssi. I can’t recommend going for it all in good conscience.”
Jin cleared his throat. “No, thank you.”
“Can I try?” Taehyung asked.
Jin nearly jolted at the sound of his voice. He was supposed to ask the questions so his pack wouldn’t have to, he was supposed to take anything their new master felt like doling out, especially at first. But Yoongi nodded, getting up. “Give me a moment—”
“Oh,” Taehyung frowned, fretting. “I-I don’t—if you have to prepare—please, don’t bother—”
Yoongi just waved him off, coming back a moment later with a half-full cup, milk and sugar in his other hand. He glanced at Taehyung’s worried look before smiling, a gentle thing that made Jin purse his lips to keep from being soothed by. “Would you like me to fix it?”
Taehyung nodded shallowly. “Yes, please, omega-ssi.”
Yoongi put it in front of him when he finished, taking his seat as Taehyung took a sip, and very, very badly hid his disgust.
“Thank you,” he said weakly.
“May I try?” Hoseok asked quietly, taking it from him without waiting for an answer. He didn’t have to hide upset, at least, and smiled at Yoongi politely. “It’s nice. Unique.”
“You can have it, hyung,” Taehyung rushed out. Jin could tell Hoseok patted his leg under the table.”
“Thank you, Tae-yah.”
Namjoon cleared his throat after they ate; Yoongi almost showily, and though Jin knew what he was doing, he couldn’t bring himself to eat more than what he had put on his plate. Well—no more than what was still on his plate after slipping bites onto Jungkook’s whenever their new master and his mate weren’t looking.
“I have to go in to the office today,” Namjoon said. “Is there anything you all need? I can stop by—pretty much anywhere. Groceries, omega supplies, any medicines—”
Jin glanced at Yoongi briefly. It was clear he didn’t plan on answering for them. “No, alpha-ssi. Thank you.”
At the mention of a pharmacy, though—
He glanced over and Hoseok looked almost nauseous as he felt. It went unnoticed by their babies, and by their new owners. It was something they would have had to think about soon enough, but Jin wished they hadn’t had the reminder in front of anyone. He and Hoseok cleared their faces as well as they could, their scents deliberately stifled and smoothed enough that even Jungkook, who had surely noticed the spike in their scents, was settled enough to not ask.
Though it was certainly not healthy, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook had been blessed with irregular heats, usually skipping one or two cycles. Sangyul often didn’t even notice that it was heat, given that they smelled sick more than anything, and if he did notice, the emergency contraceptives Seokjin had stolen a while back were effective.
Jin and Hoseok, though—
Trial and error, many errors, expired suppressants found in a stroke of incredible luck in the apartment garbage bins combined with supplements that had been whispered from omega to omega for years, they had managed to stave off heats for three years. Without access to their suppressants—Jin couldn’t even think of when their cycles should hit. It had been so long since they’d suffered through a heat, and they felt sore and sick half the time and couldn’t track it that way—
It might not end well—it probably wouldn’t end well—but Jin thought he would find out for sure if Yoongi was as nice as he was so clearly attempting to be. But later. Not while there was an alpha in the room.
Yoongi scribbled out a grocery list for Namjoon before he left, checking cabinets and the fridge with a quick and methodical certainty of someone who had a stable life. He waved his alpha off, gave him a kiss at the door, and came back to the table of omegas.
Jin felt his face go stoney, neutral, like what he was asking for was standard. For an omega so seemingly free as Yoongi, perhaps it was. But it wasn’t for them, and Yoongi was practically their captor, as well.
As soon as he caught Yoongi’s eye, he lifted his chin. “Hoseok and I need suppressants.”
Hoseok’s breath audibly caught in his throat, but Jin didn’t move to reach for him or to even give him a glance.
Yoongi didn't even blink. “Just you two?”
Jin hoped his anxious swallow was not noticeable. “Yes.”
“Okay,” Yoongi said, like it was as easy as that. “We’ll make sure you're prescribed some at your doctor appointment. Unless you’re expecting your heat to hit in the next few days? I have some doses left from a few years ago, but I don’t know if they’d work as well.”
“No,” Jin said. He hoped.
“Okay,” he said again, just as easily. “Let me know if you change your mind. Or—I can just give them to you, I don’t need to know. You should tell the doctor if you take any, though.”
Jin stared and he knew he was silent for much too long, but Yoongi didn’t seem to care. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” He glanced at him as he took his seat again. “I can have things like that delivered, we don’t have to go through Namjoon. If you need any pads or pain killers or heat aids,” and Jin was absolutely not sure how Yoongi didn’t blush at that, even as all of his own omegas felt warmer around him, “I can just order them.” He gave them a half-wry, half-annoyed smile. “The stupid app requires an alpha’s permission, but we made an alpha ID for me a while back. I’d go insane if I had to ask for the shit I want.”
“We?” Hoseok asked.
Yoongi nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. “Namjoon would go insane if I had to ask him all the time, too. That and I would be so annoyed it would absolutely be his problem.”
“D’you mean it?” Jungkook asked quietly, not quite looking up. “Your alpha really is nice?”
“He is. He’s a dumbass and he’s the best alpha this world has to offer.” Yoongi put down his mug and put his elbows on the table, leaning towards them. He looked around, meeting their eyes when he was able, though Jimin and Jungkook were both looking down, still too nervous to raise their heads. “I know nothing I say will make you believe that, I don’t expect you to just trust me at my word. You don’t know me, and you don’t know my alpha. You came from a shitty situation with a shittier alpha, and I’m glad you’re here.”
“How did he die?” Jimin asked. Jin pursed his lips. His pup was sensitive, sympathetic; even if he had whispered his hatred for Sangyul into their nest many times before, he had never wished him ill, not like the rest of them had.
Yoongi glanced at Jin and he nearly jumped in surprise. It was a question, waiting for permission. Only when Jin nodded did he answer. “He said some shit about Namjoon taking what was his and he’d do the same and came at me with a knife. Namjoon shot his head. It was a clean shot, too,” he added. “He didn’t suffer much.”
Jimin lifted his head at that, giving Yoongi a considering look. “Pity,” he finally said.
Taehyung snorted, not quite able to disguise it as a cough. Yoongi just grinned. “I said much. He died with his face all screwed up from me kneeing him in the balls, the ugly bastard.”
Jin couldn’t help the twitch of his lips. He switched his half-full bowl with Jungkook’s empty one in a quick movement. “May I clear the table?”
Yoongi waved him off. “No, no. You’re basically guests and I’m not quite so rude as to make guests do housework.”
“I thought you said we were yours now, Yoongi-ssi.”
Yoongi paused and blinked at that. “You can load the dishwasher,” he conceded, “but I’m doing everything else.”
“I can help, too!” Jungkook objected with a pout that was much too convincing, even to Jin’s hardened heart. He winced when Jungkook shoveled the rest of his congee into his mouth. He was much too comfortable, even if Yoongi was an omega. Jin really didn’t want to have a talk with him about it. “I can wash the dishes—”
Yoongi frowned before sighing, conceding again. “You can wipe the table if you really want to.”
“What about me?” Taehyung asked, looking much too eager for chores.
“I don’t even know if there’s anything else you can help with,” Yoongi said. “I guess—I mean, there are some leftovers we can put away?”
Taehyung nodded eagerly, already moving for the not-yet-empty serving bowls in the middle of the table.
“Let me help, too—” Jimin grabbed a couple before Taehyung could, ignoring his “Hey!”
Jungkook scraped as much food from his bowl as he could before he began to collect their dishes, only speeding up when Yoongi leapt up to help him with a rushed “I can do it, let hyung—”
Hoseok just stared at the four of them seemingly racing against each other to clean up, glancing over at Jin to make sure he felt as thrown off as he did. Yoongi wasn’t even really chastising their pups. Even as he half-heartedly scolded them that he really didn’t need any help and they didn’t need to do anything, much less fight to get something to do, he led them to the kitchen and they followed, even though it put a door, or at least an arch, between them and their hyungs.
Hoseok stared after them for a moment before looking to Jin. He wanted to offer Hoseok a shrug but—he really didn’t want to seem unsure, not when his pack needed him to be a stable leader, keeping them safe, watching over them, vigilant of these strangers so they didn’t have to be. But—his pups had seemed to abandon wariness much, much easier than Jin wanted them to. He shook his head once and stood, Hoseok following him to do the same. There weren’t even any more dishes to take to the kitchen, and they walked in empty handed.
Yoongi was pulling on pink plastic dish gloves, gently nudging Jungkook’s hands away as he attempted to grab a sponge, his insistent “Hyung will do it, hyung will do it,” not taken very seriously, but he didn’t seem too perturbed.
He eventually let Jungkook take over loading the dishwasher when he glanced at Jin and got an approving nod. Hoseok and Jin stayed close to the doorway, backs to the kitchen counter as they watched their pups and this strange omega move among them like he belonged.
Jin felt Hoseok’s eyes flick to him, but he stared forward resolutely. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling. He was even less sure what he would say about all of this.
And when Jungkook giggled, bright and sweet, when Yoongi flicked a few bubbles at him—
Jin took a deep, shaky breath and appreciated the hand Hoseok laid on his arm, the comforting, lingering squeeze.
He’d have to talk to them. They couldn’t act like Yoongi was part of them. If they slipped up and acted familiar in front of Yoongi’s alpha, Jin wasn’t sure he would be able to convince Namjoon to punish him instead.
Hoseok gave his wrist a squeeze, subtle and brief, and Jin let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He nodded once, and stepped into the fray.
-
“Namjoon-hyung is really nice,” Taehyung said one night, a week after their talk, Jin's warnings and pleads spoken in low whispers in their dark room, unable to stifle his worried scent even when Jimin and Jungkook tackled him into the nest and curled around him sweetly, obediently, protectively.
They’d been there a week and three days. Ten days of caution and careful steps and trying to learn the rules that Yoongi insisted didn’t exist. Eventually he seemed to just—create some, but it was all should nots instead of could nots. They shouldn’t go past the tree line a few acres down the property, they shouldn’t pick vegetables before they were ripe, they shouldn’t play with knives.
Jin had stared at him and Yoongi had just shrugged, not even trying to hide that he was just listing stuff on the spot.
It wasn’t like the alpha gave them rules, either, though. He seemed content to just—let strange omegas run around his house. He seemed content to not fuck them. He didn’t try to punish them for accidental slights or when they were too loud when he was home or when they laughed or when Jin ushered them into the nest and closed and locked the door early at night. He was strange, and odd, and scary. And here Taehyung was saying he was nice.
“Namjoon-hyung, hm?” Hoseok said when Jin couldn’t bring himself to say anything at all.
Taehyung felt a soft sheet between his fingers, not looking at any of them. “He asked me to be informal. When we were—when we were talking about books.”
“Books?”
Taehyung nodded. “Yes. He—he recommended some to me. And said we were free to use the library whenever we wanted.”
Jin glanced at Jimin and Jungkook. They seemed just as taken aback as he was.
“And what did Yoongi-ssi say?” Jin asked, but he knew. He knew.
“Well—” Taehyung licked his lips. “He said the same thing before. That we could go anywhere.”
“You were alone with him,” Jin snapped. He didn’t mean to sound so angry, but he was scared. He was scared.
“I didn’t mean to be,” Taehyung rushed, finally looking up at him. “He was just there when I went in and I just wanted to explore and I didn’t know he was home and—”
“Are you alright, Taehyungie?” Hoseok asked, much more calmly than Jin knew he felt. “Did anything happen?”
“No!” Taehyung said, looking between them. “Nothing at all. Except for—books.”
Jin closed his eyes, tried to take deep breaths, tried to center himself and calm down and be there because that was what his pups needed. Hoseok didn’t need to ask these questions, he was Jin’s pup, too, he should be taking care of him, all of them—
Hoseok touched his back and Taehyung crawled forward to take his hand. “I’m okay, hyung. I’m sorry I scared you.”
Jin hugged him close, practically crushing him against his chest. “Be careful. Please, god, Taehyung, be careful.”
“I will,” he promised. “I am. I’m careful. But—” he pulled away, putting his hands on Jin’s shoulders until he forced his eyes open to meet Taehyung’s. “But he is nice.”
Hoseok wanted to say something, that much was clear. But he didn’t say it, stopped himself when he met Jin’s eyes, and that meant it was something Jin very much didn’t want to hear.
Jin just hugged Taehyung close again, letting out a shaky breath against his shoulder. He’d make sure to hold him extra tight that night.
-
If the alpha was to catch any of them alone again, Jin was at least glad that it was him. He would shoulder whatever punishment Namjoon felt fit, he would take on as much pain as possible so his omegas didn’t have to.
“Seokjin-ssi,” Namjoon said.
Jin turned and bowed low and was met with a hand on his shoulder. “Alpha-ssi,” he said, strangled and low.
“Can we talk?”
Jin could do nothing else but nod, and follow Namjoon down the hall.
He led him to the back patio, a sunny spot that he had enjoyed with his pack and Yoongi more than once. I could run if I need to, he thought frantically. But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t run. He couldn’t.
Namjoon pulled out a chair for him, waiting until he sat before taking his own chair across the table. They could both look out at the lawn this way, the garden and flowers and fountain that Jungkook liked napping by because he loved the sound.
Jin stared out at it all, more tense than he had been since their arrival, though it was difficult to be any more tense than he already was. He was alone with the alpha, and he should be grateful, but instead—
“Alpha-ssi, what did you want to say?” he asked. He didn’t even mean to be terse and impertinent, but—perhaps he could worsen his own punishment, make it easier for him to get any anger out before he could reach the rest.
“Seokjin-ssi,” he started, then stopped. He was looking at Jin when he risked a glance. “Would you like to stay? Permanently?”
Jin stared back. “Do I have a choice?”
“You do,” Namjoon said with a firm nod. “If you would like, we can find somewhere else for all of you. I assume you don’t want to be separated—?”
“No,” Jin said, throat feeling suddenly terribly dry at the thought.
“There are—well. There are limited options for five omegas, I won’t lie. There are a few omega shelters that have good records but—I can’t guarantee you would stay together forever even if you are listed as bonded, unfortunately. As you might imagine, omega services can’t be well-trusted in this case. But there are some that are better than others. I can also find another home for you, with a different alpha. I understand you are distrustful of me—and I can understand why. I hope you feel comfortable enough with Yoongi to ease some of that discomfort, especially if you would like to remain in my care.”
“I don’t—” Jin swallowed. “I don’t have a choice, alpha. I am yours. We are yours.”
“By law, yes,” Namjoon nodded. “But I do not own your mind or your soul or your heart, and it is my responsibility to make sure that all are taken care of.”
Jin stared at him, eye to eye, impertinent and rude and not at all omegalike. Namjoon simply stared back. He didn’t wear any sort of scent blocker. His scent was more rain than storm, less threatening than Hoseok would have expected. “If we were to decide to stay… what would that entail?”
Namjoon blinked. “Well—it would entail this.There are no surprise stipulations or anything, Seokjin-ssi. It would just be a matter of—knowing that you are here, that you are pack, that you are staying.” He lifted his chin, considering him. “It would entail you, hopefully, feeling more comfortable in your own home. I want to offer a sense of stability, Seokjin-ssi. To you and your omegas.”
“My omegas, hm?” Jin said quietly, almost wryly.
Namjoon’s lips twitched. “I don’t hold any assumptions that they are anything but. You are their pack omega. I may be your alpha, but that is just a technicality, when it comes down to it. They trust you, they follow you. And I know that you will likely want to talk to them before making a decision.”
Jin looked away, tapping his fingers on the table as he looked over the grounds. “They will want to stay,” he muttered. He didn’t look at him but pursed his lips. “Taehyung says you’re ‘nice.’”
Namjoon’s scent didn’t spike, but grew slightly stronger, a swell of fresh rain. “Did he? He’s kind. It turns out we have the same taste in books—there are quite a few in our library he hasn’t had the chance to read. I hope he’s taking advantage?”
There was a book from the library next to the nest now, Jin knew. He would not be telling him that. “Jungkook says he likes your scent.”
There was clear displeasure in Jin’s voice, but that didn’t stop the fresh wave of rain, though Jin was rather sure he was trying to stifle it.
“Yes, well—Yoongi has told me it can be nice.”
“Do you always take what your omega says to heart?”
“I do,” Namjoon said immediately, genuinely. “Yoongi is my heart. I trust him implicitly, I have since we met. He is my partner, not just my omega.”
Jin knew Yoongi would corroborate. He had said much the same about Namjoon from the very beginning. And so far—it seemed to be the truth. They had had nearly two weeks to disprove him. They had had nearly two weeks to make Jin realize that they had walked from one hell right into another. In those nearly two weeks, Jin had thought about how easy it would be to run, to get food that was always available to them from the kitchen, to grab valuables from their bedroom and around the house, to run to the woods and hide in the trees and make their way—somewhere, out of the country, maybe, see if it was any better for omegas anywhere else. And yet—they hadn’t. Jin hadn’t led them on a great escape like they had planned for so long before all of this happened, before their horrid alpha had gotten himself killed.
And this alpha, the one in front of him now—he had killed him.
“You killed our alpha,” he said.
“I did,” Namjoon agreed, unrepentant. “I do not like to kill, but—he attacked Yoongi. I would kill a million people before seeing my omega harmed.” He gave Jin a look, too knowing for his tastes. “That being said—it was not hard to kill Sangyul-ssi. And I hope that his loss has not been much of a loss for you. I apologize if it was.”
Seokjin sighed. He leaned back in his chair, more casually than he had ever let himself be in front of an alpha. “It wasn’t. He was terrible, alpha-ssi. I’m glad he’s dead. I wish he had suffered more, for causing my pups to suffer for so long.”
Namjoon bowed his head. “I’m not a religious man, but I do hope he is suffering in some sort of hell.”
Jin nearly let a smile tease the corners of his lips, but he stopped himself just in time. “Namjoon-ssi,” he said, bold, bolder than he had ever been in his life. “If you harm my omegas, I will kill you, and I will not be quick.”
Namjoon simply bowed his head. “I accept that. I will do everything in my power to keep your omegas—and yourself—from harm. From myself or otherwise.”
“That includes hurting them, alpha,” Jin warned. “If you hit them, strike them—”
“I will not. I assure you of that. Yoongi can assure you of it, as well, he knows me, beyond what kind of alpha I am.”
“And if you fuck them—”
“I will not,” he interrupted, more firmly than Jin had yet heard him be. “Even if they ask, Seokjin-ssi, if I do not have your permission, I will not. I would be glad to care for you all in every way possible if you would allow it, but I do not expect anything in return. I will not harm any of you in any way, perhaps especially in that one.”
Jin, somehow, was not surprised that he believed him.
“I will speak to them first,” he said. “But I would rather stay here than risk being separated. And between the devil I know and the devil I do not—” He glanced at Namjoon, assessing. “I do not believe you are a devil.”
Namjoon smiled, bowing his head. “I am genuinely glad to hear it, Seokjin-ssi.”
Jin stared, pursed his lips, and took a final risk.
“Call me Jin.”
“Jin,” Namjoon said, smiling even more warmly.
Perhaps that wasn’t the final risk. “Hyung.”
“Jin-hyung,” Namjoon said easily, like it was nothing at all. Perhaps to him, it wasn’t. But to Jin—it was everything.
-
“If we were to stay,” Jin started that night, laying in their nest—a true nest, with soft blankets and cool pillows and his pack. The moon was coming through the window. Jin had experimented with that window the second he had been alone in the room. It was possible to unlock it silently, to climb onto the roof, carefully scale the wall using a pipe and a strong vine, all out of sight of Namjoon and Yoongi’s room.
“Hyung?” Hoseok prompted when he didn’t continue.
“If we were to stay,” he tried again. He wasn’t sure how to ask, he realized. He was the one keeping them from settling, even if he was doing it in what he very much believed was their self interests. He still believed it now, even staring out the window where their true freedom could be found—or their even more true devastation were they caught. If they were caught by Namjoon—
Namjoon would probably help them, if they really wanted to go. He would help his Jin-hyung.
“Would you like to stay? All of you?”
“I want to,” Jungkook mumbled against his chest. “I like it here. I like omega and alpha hyungs.”
Taehyung nodded; Jin’s hand was threaded through his hair the way he liked. “Me, too.”
On his other side, Jimin traced patterns on Jin’s stomach. “I want to stay, too,” he said, and it felt like the final nail. If his Jimin, nervous and cautious and fearful, wanted to stay—
“Jin-ah,” Hoseok said, looking at him, eyes glinting serious and bright. “I will follow you. Whatever you want, I’m by your side. Do you want to stay?”
Jin had been thinking of nothing but this since Namjoon had left him to his thoughts. He’d been lost in his mind, debating, considering, trying to find any reason to not. He did not find any. “I want to stay.”
Jungkook hummed, nosing Jin’s pec, a sweet self-comforting habit that reinforced him as Jin’s baby. “Yoongi-hyung will be happy.”
Jin nodded after a moment. “I think Namjoon will be, too.”
Hoseok gave him a look that had Jin blushing even if he couldn’t fully see it. “I think we’ll be happy, too, hyung. I really do.”
-
Yoongi did his very best to hide his tears when Jin quietly and casually informed him of their intent to stay.
“If you’re truly okay with it, of course,” Jin said. Yoongi had just nodded jerkily, already overcome with tears. When he had to put down the knife he was using to chop scallions in order to hug Jin around his waist, scent blooming happily as he rested his head on his chest for a moment.
“Good. Yes,” he managed to choke out. “I’m okay with it. Don’t be stupid.”
“Yah!” Jin said, loosely holding Yoongi after a moment’s hesitation. “I’m your hyung.”
“Sorry,” Yoongi said, not sorry at all. “Don’t be stupid, hyung.”
Jin sighed, resting his cheek on Yoongi’s hair. “I don’t want Namjoon to bite me.”
“He won’t, then,” Yoongi said simply. “That won’t make you any less ours.”
Jin thought about saying something snide or skeptical, but he leaned into Yoongi’s embrace and let the assurance be what it was—the truth.
-
Jin found peace in being surrounded by his omegas, as raucous as they could be sometimes, especially now that safety had become their norm. They didn’t silence themselves in front of alphas—or at least in front of their alpha—nor did they feel the need to hide away from him. Jin was still getting used to not forcing them behind him, drawing attention to himself when they got too loud or rowdy, snapping at them when they talked back or joked too much with Namjoon (or even Yoongi, to a lesser extent) because he would rather them be upset with him than them be punished.
He was still getting used to punishments not coming.
Namjoon was getting used to them flinching when he stretched too abruptly just as they were getting used to not doing so.
Jin still found peace in his omegas, in their constant noise even when they tried to be quiet, in their purrs and hums and rustling. But there was a different kind of peace he sometimes sought out, one of quiet solitude, often sitting by the small lake on the pack’s property, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders to beat the chilly morning air, listening to the crickets and wind blowing through the leaves.
There was another much more unknown and unexpected kind of peace in hearing the crunch of steps along the path getting closer, Namjoon’s stormy scent either amplifying or amplified by the morning dew.
Namjoon pressed his hand just below Jin’s nape briefly before sitting beside him. Jin didn’t look at him, but he could see his bare arms in his periphery. He gave the water an exasperated look with a fondness that he seemed to be unable to chase away. He sighed and unwrapped the blanket from one shoulder, throwing it around Namjoon’s, making sure it covered him before allowing himself to relax again. Namjoon didn’t say anything, but he pressed their arms together, warming them both.
Namjoon didn’t press for more, just as he hadn’t for the six months since they found themselves in his possession. He hadn’t insisted on claiming them, had certainly not insisted on fucking them, had not insisted on working them into his and Yoongi’s nest once he did. He had insisted on them asking Jin if he could before each and every step, like he was the ruling chaperone who was the only one who could grant such blessings, because he was.
Jungkook bore his bite, as did Taehyung and Hoseok—Jimin was teasing him, giggling whenever Namjoon whined that his teeth hurt when he was knot deep and Jimin gave him generous access and showed off where Taehyung had sank his teeth in before shaking his head when Namjoon asked if he wanted it. Jin was not teasing. He had been claimed twice before, and those scars had all but faded away completely now. He wasn’t eager to put another in their place.
And yet—Yoongi had built them a nest. He had made a wooden bedframe with his own talented, hardworking hands, and had figured out how to use Namjoon’s considerable wealth to get a custom mattress made. He didn’t even argue when Hoseok fluttered around insisting that he would learn to sew so he could make sheets of the right material. Yoongi just offered to help.
Yoongi had built them a nest fit for seven, and sometimes one or two slept apart, taking space when they needed it just to come back together in the end. More often than not, it was Jin disentangling himself from his clingy omegas, though he often found himself with an armful in the morning. More than once, he and Yoongi had taken their leave, the two of them sometimes tangling into one another and other times sleeping back to back without an inch of them touching. And less often, sure, but it still had happened—
Jin kissed Namjoon, just once. They had escaped the pile of preheat omegas who were picky about every single thing in the world and that included Namjoon’s thoughts being too big, apparently, even though he had only been thinking of what he should order for breakfast in the morning. Namjoon hadn’t even moved to follow Jin to his typical bedroom, but Jin had grabbed his hand and tugged him along like it was a common occurrence.
They laid together quietly, Jin had kissed him without anything but a matter-of-fact affection, and had promptly turned and pressed back until Namjoon had no choice but to spoon him, his scent bloomed and lingering in the air before truly swelling and encasing Jin in it. He let his own scent push back. In his mind, he insisted it was just to combat the rain. In his heart, he knew it was to reassure Namjoon that his feelings at that moment were very much reciprocated.
Jin didn’t kiss Namjoon now. He wasn’t sure if he would in the future.
But he did lean against his side, rested his head on his shoulder, and, with his alpha, watched the sun rise behind the clouds.