Chapter Text
Minho sometimes thought he could die.
He really did think he could die.
Don't get me wrong. He knew it wasn't physically possible. He ate healthily. He was a strong Alpha. He practically lived in the gym four days a week. So, generally speaking, unless a truck hit him due to a moment of stupid distraction, he would most likely live for a long time. After all, he was someone with no harmful habits and obsessed with dying naturally. But sometimes – well, quite often – Lee Minho thought he could die. It could be a sudden heart attack, or it could be the result of a sudden thought in his mind: "I'm going to jump off the fifth floor now." He didn't know. But he knew the basis of each of these thoughts. Each of these thoughts led to one person. One person. The greatest curse of his existence. Bang Chan.
He liked to call him that in his mind. Because ever since Minho first saw him, he couldn't help but feel like he was in the middle of a real mess. Chan smelled like freshly baked buns and cinnamon rolls. When Chan smiled, the first thing that came to mind were his dimples, and then that voice that always made Minho feel so warm inside. Chan was the curly hair that peeked out from under his hoodie on a tiring day, and every time Minho clenched his fists to keep himself from running his fingers through those curls. Chan, the kindest Omega in the world. Chan, who never knew his own worth and didn't realize how beautiful he was. Chan, unaware of Lee Minho's love for him.
That's why Lee Minho sometimes thought he could die. Or burn alive. Because he had never wanted anyone or anything in the world as much as he wanted him. It was a desire that consumed him, made him question his existence, and sometimes made him feel like he was sinking up to his neck in a bottomless pit. He was brave. He always thought he was brave. But somehow, he was here. He was here, wondering if he would die if he jumped from the second floor.
“Is this a scarf?” Minho almost threw up as Hyunjin leaned closer to the red gift package in front of Chan. He was struggling not to tear apart the hideous brown scarf Chan was holding in his hands—Chan didn’t even like brown, what the hell was this? He saw Chan’s nose slowly bend towards the scarf. There was a hesitation in his gaze, and Minho could tell from his body language that he couldn’t understand what was happening. He wished Minho couldn’t understand it either. He wished he didn’t know what was going on. Beautiful and oblivious to the world, Chan. Of course, one day this would happen. It wouldn’t just be glances. One day someone would make a move. Someone else would notice how beautiful he was and want to possess him. And maybe Chan would agree, a brief flirtation, a mating bite, and three adorable puppies inheriting Chan’s dimples and hair. Minho urgently needed to kill himself because he couldn’t continue his life in such a miserable way.
“I don’t recognize the smell,” Chan said. He wrinkled his nose and dropped the scarf back into the package as if it were burnt. “It smells really strong. Maybe it was put here by mistake.” Minho couldn’t help but feel a brief, intense pleasure from it. He didn’t like the smell. Good. Maybe he could postpone killing himself a little longer.
“Your name is on it,” Felix said, laughing. Then he leaned towards the box and took a deep breath, inhaling the scent himself. “Ah! Doesn’t he smell like that Alpha from our shared class? What was his name?” He thought for a moment and then said, “Mingyu.” “It smells like Mingyu Hyung.” Hyunjin mimicked Felix’s action, and Minho thought, “my enemy.” He couldn’t stop the scent of himself, which he’d been suppressing for the past fifteen minutes, from suddenly rising, and the three heads at the table instantly turned towards him. So Minho’s enemy’s name was Mingyu. Great. Now he knew who he was. It shouldn’t be too hard to get rid of him. Chan wouldn’t be too upset. He was sure he’d visit him in jail. Because he was a good person. He could even convince Jisung to help him with a little threat.
“I don’t think so.” Chan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze lingering on Minho with tension. “Why would he send me a scarf? It’s ridiculous. Almost half the Omegas in the class are in love with him. I still think it was sent to the wrong person.” Chan glanced at the scarf one last time before closing the package, his eyes fixed on Minho. It was already difficult enough on a normal day. Now it was twice as bad. “Why wouldn’t he send it?” he found himself thinking. What did that Alpha think he was? He should worship the path Chan took. How could Chan compare himself to the Omegas in his class? He was cuter than all the Omegas in the world combined.
“So…” Chan said, slightly flustered. He was about to start his self-deprecating nonsense again. Minho had heard enough. “Better…”
“You’re good enough.” His voice was harsh, and all eyes at the table were on him. “Any Alpha would be lucky to have you.” Chan’s blush started at his neck and spread to his ears within seconds. After a few seconds of surprised parting, a forced giggle escaped his lips. Minho wanted those lips on his own. He wanted to hear his real laughter, not his fake giggles. He wanted to see how far that redness, starting from his neck, could spread with his words and touch. Minho wanted him so much, and now it was an unsettling itch under his skin. It was torture.
“Of course you’d say that since you’re my friend,” Chan said. It was pointless to be offended. That’s just how Chan was. He loved him for who he was. “Minho Hyung is right,” Felix said. “He’s flirting with you,” Hyunjin added, gesturing towards the scarf. “Otherwise, why would he send a scarf stained with his scent?”
“Guys, can we drop this subject?” Chan whined.
“What are you going to say?” Minho asked. He seemed completely unaware of this.
“Answer?” he said.
“Yes,” Hyunjin immediately interjected. “If you wear it, you’ll have accepted his offer to flirt. What are you planning to do?” Chan now looked even more panicked.
“Isn’t it too early?” Felix asked. “I mean, a scarf soaked in your own scent for the first courting gift…” Minho could have gone crazy. What a brave Alpha. He wanted him to disappear.
“Of course I won’t wear it,” Chan said. His voice was trembling with disbelief. “I don’t even like it.” God! Minho adored him.
“Good,” Minho said. “You hate brown anyway.”
--
Courting was a tradition passed down through generations. While this ritual, once taken much more seriously, had lost some of its meaning now, it was still practiced. Minho's great-great-grandfather had met his great-great-grandmother and, realizing she was the only one for him, had begun to court her with all his being. Minho's generation before that was the same. And Minho's parents... his father knew the moment he saw his mother that she would be the only one in his life, that he would die if he rejected her. Courting was inevitable. So was mating. And Minho had grown up surrounded by a legendary chain of love stories spanning generations. Family members who revolved around each other as if they were the whole world, acting as if the moon would leave its orbit if they didn't touch each other for five minutes. So, from the outside, Minho might not have been seen as a very romantic person. Because, in fact, he was born right into that romanticism. That's why he knew Chan the moment he first saw him. He didn't even need to smell him. He saw Chan and said, "Ah!" "Yes, that's him." Those damn dimples and bright eyes.
Sadly, Minho wasn't as brave as either his great-great-grandfather or his father. His courage vanished when it came to Chan. He wasn't the type to blindly pursue anything. And although he tried to hide behind a mask, he was quite shy. After three months of observing Chan from afar, Minho had finally met him through Felix, but he'd never managed to move beyond friendship. And now it had been four years since they'd met. It was his final semester of university, and this realization was so painful, it felt like he'd suddenly been hit in the head with a sledgehammer. He wasn't getting any younger. And perhaps Chan might suddenly decide to return to Australia when the year ended. Even worse, Chan might finally accept a courting offer from an Alpha. You might ask how it could be worse than returning to Australia. Minho had an emergency plan. He could find a job in Australia. He was willing to follow Chan wherever he went—yes, quite pathetically. But another Alpha.
Unacceptable.
Impossible.
“What are you thinking?” Chan’s hesitant voice came from beside him, and Minho realized he’d been lost in his own thoughts for minutes. They were walking slowly towards Chan’s dorm. Minho always made sure to walk Chan home, no matter what time it was. It was an established habit since the beginning of their friendship. “Nothing,” he said. “Nothing important.”
Just you, he wanted to say. You every moment I’m awake, every moment I breathe. You night and day. I’m always thinking about you.
“Wasn’t today so funny?” Minho focused his gaze on Chan. “That gift and all…” A small giggle escaped his lips, but Minho knew it wasn’t a genuine laugh. He didn’t take his eyes off him for a second. He could see Chan becoming even more tense from his unwavering gaze.
“What was funny?” he asked. He couldn’t help but sound harsh. Today really felt like a bad joke for Minho.
“I… I mean, who gives a scarf infused with their own scent as the first courting gift?” Chan shifted uncomfortably. Minho knew his scent was rising again at the thought of it, and he could see Chan's sudden gaze making him feel it too. “What would you have wanted, Hyung?” Minho asked. His voice was harsh. He couldn’t help it. “I…” Chan was now completely on edge. “I haven’t thought about it.”
“Would you have accepted something else?” He couldn’t help it. Minho always prided himself on his controlled nature, but when it came to Chan, it was almost impossible. He wanted him so much. The same thought kept circling in his mind. He wanted him so much.
“No.” Chan looked him in the eyes and answered without any hesitation. “No, I wouldn’t.” For Minho, that was enough for now.
--
“You’re pathetic.” Minho was in his third hour of existential crisis as Jisung glared at him judgmentally. “All you have to do is tell him how you feel. Oh my God! What’s so hard about that?” Look. Minho liked Jisung. They’d been practically glued together since they were both presented as Alphas. He’d been there for him through all the embarrassing situations he’d gotten himself into trying to get Felix, offering him endless support—including endless teasing, okay? But right now, he wasn’t helping at all.
“Leave him alone. They’ll probably both confess when they’re seventy or so. And then they’ll die in a few years anyway. No need to bother.” Okay. He hated Seungmin even more. That was undeniable.
“You talk a lot, Kim Seungmin, for someone who didn’t notice Hyunjin flirting with you for five months.”
“I’m an Alpha. Alphas aren’t courted. Hyunjin is an anomaly. How was I supposed to know an Omega would suddenly decide to court me? It’s not my fault.” As Seungmin shouted in protest, Minho’s gaze shifted from the mating bite mark on Jisung’s neck to the one on Seungmin’s. They were happy. Their scents had mingled, and Minho could no longer tell which scent belonged to whom. He wanted this. He had always wanted this, and he only wanted it with one person.
“I love him,” he whispered. Jisung and Seungmin exchanged a glance. The look of someone who had heard it countless times.
“Then do something,” Jisung said.
Because he might slip through his fingers.
Because he might accept the next gift.
He needed to put an end to this.
“I will,” he said. He was miserable. Love was driving him crazy. But it didn’t matter. The time had come.