Петрова Екатерина Николаевна. Peonies and honey

Around his 16th birthday, Chan presented as an omega.
Before his heat was even through, he booked a doctor's appointment, shaky and delirious, and got a prescription for suppressants. He had no intention of letting his physiology win.

Chan is accustomed to want - knows the shape and feel of it against his teeth, around his heart.
Slowly, he learns what it means to have.

Notes

Omegas are intersex in this.
This is my first time writing ABO. help.
More smut to come in chap 2.

Chapter 1: wanting, needing

As a child, Chan was raised to believe secondary genders were nothing but an evolutionary remnant. Something that some people might lend significance to, but ultimately meant nothing - whether alpha, beta, or omega, he'd be able to achieve his dreams thanks to hard work and dedication.

As a teenager who only just stepped foot in Korea, Chan learned something else entirely.

He'd seen, as a young trainee, the treatment omegas got - picked last to debut, not trusted with any significant responsibilities, coddled and babied and protected from anything that could upset their delicate sensibilities, or trigger unwanted heats.

He'd also seen the alphas. Entrusted with the safety of their teams, yet still subject to their instincts - protective and territorial, often possessive, rarely rational.

He'd seen how, despite their best efforts, people became volatile around their pre-heats and pre-ruts. Emotions and traits that they usually kept controlled - jealousy, clinginess, aggression, sensitivity - absolutely exploded around those times.

So he decided pretty quickly that he was going to be a beta. No scent, no pesky cycle to distract him from his work, no obtrusive instincts getting in the way of his relationships and work. He was determined - no biology was going to ruin his dream.

Around his 16th birthday, Chan presented as an omega.

He spent his first heat alone, locked in a dorm that was, thankfully, empty. The pain was excruciating, that much he remembered - his body changing to accommodate his secondary gender, to prepare for fertility. Before his heat was even through, he booked a doctor's appointment, shaky and delirious, and got a prescription for suppressants. He had no intention of letting his physiology win.

"Hyung, how was that?"

"The pronunciation was good. It's more of a sad vibe - kinda... lonely."

Minho gave the line another go.

"Yeah, yeah, exactly." Chan nodded, eyes locked on the sheet of lyrics in front of him. This one was mostly Jisung's, with some help from Changbin. They didn't really talk about where they drew inspiration from, usually, not unless it was a deliberate, thought-through thing. Chan didn't tend to give it much thought, either, but something about these lyrics...

"Hyung?"

He focused back.

"Yup, let's listen to it."

Something about the lyrics felt raw, exposed. Chan would usually advise against that. It didn't mesh well with their heavily manicured image. Jisung gave him a look, the first time he showed him the lyrics, something defiant in his eyes. Not against him, Chan thought - he hoped by now they knew all he wanted was to keep them safe and happy.

Regardless, he'd looked at the lyrics and told Jisung what he thought, and that they should definitely record them. For some reason, he'd wanted Chan to lead that, even though it was his song. He'd thought to argue, initially. It was Jisung's, and he should be the one to direct the members to get his message across as close to perfectly as possible, but something about the way Jisung had looked that day, the determination and defiance written plainly in the lines of his body, stopped Chan.

"Let's keep it and try again."

The lyrics tugged at something in Chan's heart. He wasn't sure what, only that the more he read them, the more it felt like something was squeezing his insides. He didn't know if that's what Jisung meant, and it wasn't a great feeling besides, so he tried his best to tone it down when directing the members.

Minho recorded the line again, and it clicked.

"Yup, that's great. Let's do verse two."

The recordings ended earlier than he expected, which meant he was back at the apartment by 11pm. Jeongin must've been at the gym, or doing something else - out, in any case. He figured he should try to use this chance to go to sleep early, but half formed thoughts were chasing their own tail inside his head, slipping away like fish when he tried to catch them.

His bed was perfectly made, as he liked it to be, and his room was perfectly clean, as he needed it to be. It all smelled vaguely and artificially of citrus thanks to his preferred cleaning products. While the living room held traces of Jeongin's fruity scent, his room was almost sterile. Untouchable.

He took his blanket off the bed and went to sleep on the couch in the living room.

As far as anyone was concerned, Chan was a beta. He was relieved to find, as more and more trainees around him presented, that while he could smell them, their scents didn't affect him the way he'd seen it affect other freshly presented omegas (or alphas, for that matter).

Most people gave him a wide berth then, and even if they hadn't, it wasn't exactly commonplace to confront people about their secondary genders. People drew their own conclusions, mostly based on scent and instinct, until proven otherwise. In that sense he was grateful for his foresight in taking the suppressants as early as he had - they'd taken care of any scent he would have developed, his natural cycle stopped before it could have properly started.

Jisung and Changbin weren't any different when it came to discussing secondary genders. Both were still unpresented, when they'd all met, and much like their peers, the subject of presentation and their own secondary genders occupied a sizable portion of their thoughts. Chan mainly caught glimpses of this in their scribbled lyrics, or late night conversations; they'd never explicitly asked him anything, and he never offered anything up. It might've been strange, maybe, for him to pretend like the whole subject didn't exist, but in retrospect, they probably attributed it to his general uptightness back then, which mainly worked in his favor.

The next months saw them meeting more trainees - Jisung gained two same-aged friends, the beginnings of a crush, a sweet dongsaeng, and one mortal enemy. Changbin gained more little brothers than he knew what to do with, (at least at first), and one hyung who was slightly scary. Chan gained the undeserved trust of seven younger trainees, and one healed-bruise kind of painful reminder of home. He was slightly worried, when he smelled Minho's sharp pine scent (then still defensive, as they all were - only once they'd gotten more comfortable with each other, did Minho's scent mellow out, notes of freshwater softening the pine). He was so obviously alpha, something in Chan was irrationally scared that he'd call Chan's bluff immediately, somehow innately knowing . But Minho never said anything, not even about himself, in that regard. Felix was the only one who came close to asking Chan anything about his secondary gender. Chan had answered simply Yeah, I already presented. Beta, and that was the end of that.

The following year passed in what felt like seconds, and before he knew it, they actually got to debut. They were practically euphoric, on cloud nine. Most of Chan still couldn't believe they'd actually done it, and with their group intact. He blinked - and they were suddenly preparing for a tour, working harder than they'd ever worked in their lives, sweat and blood and tears and an ever present fear that despite it all, it won't be enough.

Minho's first rut since meeting them all came and went without fuss. Chan was honestly impressed at Minho's calm control of his emotions through what he later realized was his pre-rut, and appreciated the fact Minho chose to use blockers during it more than he could express in words.

When his rut came, the company paid for a hotel (as it turns out, it's included in their health insurance), and Chan firmly stuffed down any feelings of inadequacy at not being able to support Minho through it.

His second rut came at a peak in their schedules, busy enough that he'd missed the fact he was in pre-rut for long enough that Chan noticed before him.

They'd been in the practice room, where they spent most of their time those days. This had been one of the first times they'd practiced this particular choreography alone, and Minho seamlessly took charge of leading the practice. Chan's feathers felt slightly ruffled, but he knew Minho had way more experience actually performing than Chan himself had, and figured they'd all benefit from Minho's guidance. The man in question was talking to Seungmin a little ways away from where they were all taking a short break, helping him refine something or other. Chan kept glancing over, despite himself. He knew Minho's ability to guide others, to help them get to the best version they could perform, had seen it time and time again during the survival show and since, yet something was niggling at him. Minho's shoulders were almost by his ears, his entire body rigid. His face, usually impassive at best or slightly pinched at worse, was twisted with annoyance. His entire being radiated impatience, almost anger.

"Yah! I said straighten your wrist with this movement!"

Everyone jumped. Before he realized it, Chan had crossed the room, standing between the two.

"Minho, you two should take a break as well, yeah?"

Minho ground his teeth together for a moment, then nodded, immediately making to leave the room. Chan spared a second to make sure Seungmin was okay, relieved to see Hyunjin already making his way towards him, before he rushed out after Minho.

He didn't need to go far - Minho was in the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face.

"I know," He said.

"You know what?"

"I shouldn't have yelled at him, I'm too tense today, I need to get my shit together..." He moved his hand in a little circle as if to say and so on .

"Well, that too, but mostly I came here to check if you're okay." Chan leaned against the door. Minho's eyes flicked up to meet his for a moment.

"I'm fine , oh great leader."

Chan swallowed down the bitterness flooding his mouth.

"You have been on edge today. Are you sure everything's alright?"

The smell of rotted, wet pine flooded the room, sour and cloying. Chan's mouth instinctively opened, opting to take shallow breaths instead of inhaling any more of that smell.

" Fine, " Minho spat, straightening up and moving towards Chan, "We need to get back."

Something primal in Chan started to cower, pushing him to step aside and let Minho through, to not anger this alpha who was -

Oh.

"Minho, you're in pre-rut."

Minho blinked twice rapidly, the way he always did when processing something. Chan got front row seats to the steady reddening of the other's ears.

"Sorry, hyung." He hung his head.

"It's alright, Minho-ya." Chan softened his voice. "Why don't you go home? We can all stay here until you decide what you want to do."

Minho shook his head.

"I just need to go out and get some scent blockers. I still have some time until it hits."

Chan deliberated.

"This won't happen again, hyung."

"Alright, Minho-ya. I trust you."

He stepped away to let Minho through.

For the rest of the day Minho had been calm, but subdued. Two days later he packed a bag and went to a hotel once again. Chan bit his tongue every time the urge to ask which hotel rose in him. The less he knew, the better.

For a while after, there was only the excitement and nerves about their upcoming tour. Even Jisung and Hyunjin's relationship was on the mend - while Jisung still couldn't accept criticism to save his life, and Hyunjin still held on to old hurts like it was a competition, they seemed to warm up to each other.

And then five of them presented in the two months before they went on their first tour, as though their bodies all somehow collectively sensed that this was their last chance to do so before it would become nearly impossible to accommodate it.

Chan woke up to the sound of the door being unlocked. Someone - Jeongin, Chan assumed - shuffled in quietly, throwing his keys onto their designated dish. Light flooded the room behind Chan's eyelids, but he kept them firmly shut. Jeongin's scent wafted inside in gentle waves, sweet berries and fresh earth, comforting and happy. These days, they didn't use blockers unless they had to, and usually not around each other. Chan was both delighted and distressed by this fact, but this time, he allowed himself to simply be calmed by the soothing smell of his packmate. He almost felt the urge to purr.

" Aigoo, " Jeongin whispered, and the lights went out. There was a sigh, and then muttering, something about sleeping on the couch and fucked up back and something else that was completely lost to Chan. His blanket, which had gotten twisted around him while he slept, got adjusted, pulled up to his chin. A caress to his arm, gentle fingers moving his hair away from his eyes, then - a soft, barely there brush of lips against his forehead. Chan would think he was hallucinating if not for the way it lingered, the way his heart sped up in his chest as if trying to catch up to his racing thoughts, his body suddenly too warm in the cocoon of his blanket.

The door to Jeongin's room closed.

Chan didn't fall back asleep after that.

Before the sun was done rising, Chan returned the living room back to its natural state, ordered an iced americano for Jeongin and headed to the gym. When his mind was buzzing and restless, keeping busy and sticking to his routines was what kept him sane. He shifted his focus to his form, counting the reps, breathing. Before he knew it, he found himself on the bike, bringing his workout to its end. He glanced at his phone - if he finished now, he'd be able to make it back home and wash up before he had to head back into the company, like he usually did. He chewed his lip thoughtfully.

Then again, he could always use the showers here at the gym. It'd save him the trip, and it would mean more time for work, and god knows he had enough of it to keep him busy.

He turned off the bike, got his gym bag out of his locker, and made his way to the showers.

His phone buzzed with a message from Jeongin thanking him for the coffee. He swiped it away, neck suddenly uncomfortably warm. He swore he could smell berries in the air, but he reasoned it must be someone's shampoo.

His tasks for the day were mostly mixing some of the tracks they'd finished recording, maybe composing some new ones, which meant he'd be mostly left to his own devices, except for Changbin or Jisung, though he seemed to recall one of them having something scheduled for the day. He found himself relieved at the prospect of spending the day mostly on his own. It wasn't something he usually enjoyed, but he figured it made sense, all things considered.

When he entered his room, it was clear somebody else had been there. Not that he minded - the space didn't actually belong to him, it was the company's - but he figured it was common courtesy to leave shared spaces the same way you found them. He didn't expect everyone to live up to his standard of cleanliness, but this - this was a little much.

There were papers strewn about the desk, notes and lyrics and who knows what else. Two half-eaten cups of noodles sat on the desk, barely an inch away from the keyboards. The tiny trash can in the corner, mostly meant for papers or small wrappers, was completely full thanks to two large bottles of soda and a bunch of paper cups. Someone's jacket was haphazardly thrown on the couch.

Chan took a deep breath.

Unfortunately, the room smelled of buldak sauce and the remnants of someone's scent, overpowering and sharp.

The building's cleaning service usually came in at around 10 am, which was an hour and a half away. He could try to find a different room, he thought. But there were his posters on the door, and there was his favorite cushion on the couch, and in that drawer of the desk was the only brand of pens he actually liked using.

He took the plastic bag out of the garbage, tied it up, and placed it by the door, then replaced it with a new one, straightening the edges of it to lay flat against the lip of the can. He shook out another bag and collected the empty containers into it and placed it next to the other one. He stacked the papers as neatly as he could, and placed the stack at the corner of the desk nearest to the door, as far away as he could from his workstation. He folded up the jacket into a neat square and placed it on the arm of the couch. He opened the third drawer of the desk and took out two disinfectant wipes - with the first, he wiped down the desk, under the keyboards and behind the screens; with the second, he wiped down the arms and back of the desk chair. He threw both wipes into the open bag by the door, then tied it up as well. He straightened the chair so it was neatly tucked under the desk, then picked both bags up and made the trip to the trash room of the building to throw them away.

The whole process took less than ten minutes, but he was still pissed. It was one thing to forget a jacket in the room, to eat in it even, but to leave it like that?

He sat down in his chair, his skin still tingling faintly at the thought of greasy fingertips grabbing onto the arms, then shook himself to focus. The scent of whoever it was that decided to defile his room still unfortunately clung to the air, though at least the smell of buldak dissipated by the time he came back. Regardless, he had to leave the door open for the room to air out. He wore his headset before his computer was even on. His phone buzzed on the table, but he ignored it, and focused on the tasks at hand.

Changbin presented first. Chan remembered it vividly - they were in the practice room, working on their choreography, steps still clumsy in ways, nervous about the prospect of performing in front of fans in an actual concert. The choreographer gave them a short break to catch their breath. Chan had had a strange sort of tingle on the back of his neck since seeing Changbin for the first time that morning, and found himself subconsciously keeping a closer eye on him than usual. What he'd seen didn't really strike him as inherently odd at first - he was serious, yes, maybe a bit less playful than was normal. Then he started casting glances at Jisung. Chan thought at first maybe he was seeing something everyone else wasn't, like Jisung messing up a step, or something, but Chan had checked, and there was nothing unusual at all. Jisung was even keeping close to Minho as usual, except - it seemed like those were the exact moments Changbin's eyes decided to bore a hole into Jisung's back, or, even more concerningly, stare daggers at Minho.

"Changbinnie," He cornered him, "everything okay? Something happen with Jisungie or Minho?"

"No." Changbin sulked. It wasn't particularly odd in and of itself, but - something about him was tense, coiled, overly defensive.

"No, everything's not okay?"

"No, everything's fine, hyung. They just seem awfully friendly is all."

Chan blinked.

"Well, yes. They are. They always have been."

Changbin scoffed.

"Hey," Chan bristled, and Changbin seemed to shake himself out of it for a moment.

"Sorry, hyung. I don't know, I think I just didn't get enough sleep today."

Chan left it at that. He did notice, later, Minho walking up to Changbin. They seemed to exchange a few words, after which Changbin somehow seemed both more settled and more agitated.

"Hey," Chan caught Minho as they were about to head back to the dorms, "Everything okay with Changbin?"

"Yeah, hyung, everything's alright. I think he might be presenting."

Everything seemed to screech to a halt in Chan's mind.

It had been so long since the idea of presentation, of the other member's secondary genders, was on his mind, that he almost seemed to forget. Something must've shown on his face, then, because Minho faintly smirked.

"Don't worry, hyung. We'll get through it."

"Yeah, yes, of course. Thank you, Minho-ya. We should probably talk to the managers."

Minho looked a little hesitant, but held his tongue. Chan's mouth dried. "What is it?"

"I think you should probably talk to Changbinnie first. Hyung." He added, almost as an afterthought. "I think he should be able to get a say in how his experience will go."

"Of course. I didn't mean- I'd never-" He found himself stuttering under Minho's calculating gaze. "I'd never want to take that choice away from him. From any of you."

Minho looked him over once, and it sent a shiver through his body. Then he simply hummed.

"Are you coming home, hyung?" He asked, tilting his head, and something about that entire conversation left Chan feeling so off balance that he decided he had more work to do at the company.

At some point during the day, Changbin came into the room. He tapped Chan on the shoulder gently, getting his attention. Chan uncovered one ear and hummed in question.

"What are you working on?"

"B-side."

"Close to being done?"

"Not really. More like halfway. Might re-record some parts."

Changbin hummed. "Smells weird in here."

"Don't get me started," Chan groaned. "I had to clean up the room this morning before I could get to work."

"What, that bad?"

Chan gestured to the papers, and the jacket.

"Not mine. And that's the part I was actually fine with. They left food in here."

"Oh, ew." Changbin's nose scrunched adorably. Chan's lips curved, despite his annoyance at the whole situation. Changbin picked up the jacket and sniffed at it curiously - and immediately jerked back, throwing it back on the couch. "Oh man, that is one stinky fucker. No wonder the room smells like shit. You should leave it outside, or - honestly, just throw it away."

Chan chewed his lip.

"I don't know, what if they come back for it?"

"Hyung, this thing isn't salvageable. I pity the washing machine it'll get thrown into. You'd be doing them a service."

Chan huffed a laugh. "What are you up to today?"

"Just came back from a schedule."

Ah, so it was Changbin after all . "How was it?" Chan focused back on his screen, eyes roaming over the layers of the track, mindlessly pressing command+s every couple of seconds. Changbin shrugged, sitting on the couch.

"Iyennie said you bought him coffee this morning. Should I ask him to switch dorms with me?"

Chan snorted. "Don't you think I pay for you enough, Changbinnie?"

"Excuse me? I'm the one who loses rock-paper-scissors every time!" Changbin blustered, and Chan burst into giggles.

"Alright, alright, hyung'll buy you a coffee," He swiped his phone open, going to the delivery app. There were some notifications from KakaoTalk, but for once he preferred to leave them as they were, and ordered an iced americano for Changbin, and some juice for himself. "What's Hannie up to today, do you know?"

"Probably practicing with Minho. Or, well, practicing ." He folded his fingers into little air-quotes.

"I'm sure they're actually practicing, too," Chan chided, but Changbin just shrugged.

"Either way I think Hyunjinnie will join them soon."

Chan hummed.

"You wanna go get lunch, hyung?"

"No, I need to finish this up. Still have a lot to do."

Changbin stayed silent for a few moments, as Chan adjusted some levels.

"How's your back?"

"Fine?" He said, even though he felt it twinge, as though Changbin reminded it that it should, in fact, be hurting.

"Iyennie said you fell asleep on the couch yesterday."

Chan hummed, his ears heating.

"Stayed up watching something?"

"Something like that, yeah."

Changbin went silent again.

"We thought of meeting up at Yongbokkie and Seungminnie's tonight. Been a while since we just hung out, yeah?"

"Sounds good. Anything we should bring?"

"Beer, maybe."

"Sure."

Changbin settled against the couch, and the conversation was over. Chan placed his headphones back on his head and went back to work.

After Changbin they all fell like dominoes. Chan had learned to recognize it - before their presentations, all their emotions turned up to eleven, thoughts and feelings they usually managed to keep contained suddenly exploding out.
With Hyunjin - for an entire week, he was angry and combative, as though he had something to prove, before presenting as alpha.

Felix and Jisung went through it together, which was both better and worse. The week leading up to it was the most damage control Chan had had to do in a while. Felix was possessive and protective, almost suffocatingly so - he kept hovering at Chan's periphery, almost snarling at anyone who came too close, no matter how many times Chan told him he was fine, Felix, you need to back off, mate. Jisung was - Chan wasn't even sure how to describe it. He trailed after the other members like a lost puppy, mostly Chan and Minho and Changbin, but others too, opening doors for them and getting them water and asking if they wanted coffee and if there's anything they needed. They both presented as alphas.

Chan was - weary. That made four alphas already, and despite the suppressants, Felix sticking to him like that before his presentation freaked him out. What if they could, actually, tell? Instincts were a powerful thing. He wasn't sure it would be enough.

Telling them was out of the question. Especially now. They couldn't afford to deal with that now - they had much more important things to focus on, and there was enough drama going on already with everyone presenting without him adding fuel to the fire.

And if his omega thrashed and screeched when every single one of them presented, if their developing scents made his mouth dry, if his body burned with wanting to be near them, if his instincts were pushing him to help, to fulfill his duty as both a leader and an omega, to take care of them - well, so be it. He'd dealt with worse.

Seungmin presented not long after, though they almost didn't notice. His behavior didn't change much, except he became even more of a brat. He kept annoying Changbin and Minho, hoping to get a rise out of them, and poking and prodding at everyone else, just to be annoying. Well, except for Chan. He didn't come close to Chan.

Chan pretended he was relieved, and that his teeth didn't ache every time Seungmin carefully avoided him only to `accidentally' bump into Jisung, standing barely an arm's length away from him.

Seungmin, too, presented as an alpha. Chan couldn't even find it in himself to be surprised.

Jeongin, on the other hand, took his sweet time presenting. It was somewhat of a relief to Chan, who had to find a way to coordinate six cycles, and make sure they didn't all drive each other insane or accidentally trigger each other's ruts. The other challenge was keeping himself unaffected by the others' developing scents while they adjusted to them, and learned to control the amount of pheromones they were pumping out - and he failed that miserably.

He resorted to breathing out of his mouth whenever their scents got too overwhelming, blaming his rhinitis, or he'd go insane from the constant barrage of emotions being projected all over the place.

The one thing he didn't touch was their ruts themselves. He had no idea how they spent them, and he made every effort not to know. His heart hurt at the thought that they were spending them alone in a hotel room like Minho those times. Something primal in him refused to entertain the thought that there was another person - another omega they went to, to satisfy their needs. Even on suppressants, the mere thought sliced clean through him. They were his , his omega insisted - his team, his pack, his to take care of -

He turned to the studio, or the gym, when those thoughts got loud.

Jeongin ended up presenting - as an alpha as well, because how could their headstrong maknae present as anything else - a scant few months before his twentieth birthday, and by then they'd all gotten a good handle on their cycles, their scents, their ability to control themselves during pre-rut. Which was good, because Chan was beginning to lose his mind a little bit, overtaken by fantasies of what it would be like to be theirs, their omega, ready to satisfy all their needs, every time one of their ruts hit. All he wanted was for them to be happy - to do everything he possibly could and be everything they needed him to be so that they would be happy and satisfied. He'd stretch himself as thin, bend himself to any shape that was required.

He couldn't even blame his omega for that - no, that was all Chan.

But when Jeongin presented, he figured - there were six perfectly capable other alphas to talk him through it, to mentor and guide him. He could step back. He needed to step back.

It was after Jeongin's first rut that things started to go sideways.

At some point during the day, Chan's head started hurting. This didn't really come as a surprise to him - more often than not he found himself completely absorbed in his work, only to resurface and realize it's been hours since his last sip of water. His empty cup of juice sat neatly in the trash can, as though taunting him.

The headache he could handle just fine. It at least took some focus away from his back protesting at the way he sat, and the occasional pinch of pain from his wrists. But - there was also the faint beginning of nausea churning in his stomach. The smell from the jacket seemed to have intensified the longer it stayed in the room, and while he didn't necessarily find it as offensive as Changbin did, it was overwhelming, clogging up his nose. Every time he thought of getting up to actually do as Changbin said and chuck it, he got absorbed into his work again, postponing the task to the next break.

His stomach grumbled. It didn't help with the nausea. He figured he should go to the cafeteria. If nothing else, it would at least get him away from the smell. But the thought of getting up seemed absolutely unbearable .

Chan frowned at his own line of thought. He blinked, looking over at the clock in the corner of his screen, then blinked again.

Where exactly had the last half hour gone?

He must've zoned out. He didn't sleep - he would've noticed. Which meant... what, he'd simply lost time?

His stomach grumbled again, vying for his attention.

It was so unbearably hot in the room, too. He could vaguely feel sweat beading on his forehead. Did he forget to turn on the AC? That wasn't like him. Maybe the lack of sleep affected him more than he thought.

He needed to get up, go eat something, get some fresh air - anything.

His ass remained firmly in its seat.

He groaned, forehead sinking to the desk - the blessedly cool desk, providing him some relief at last. Just one more minute , he promised himself. And then he'll go and get some lunch.

He could feel his eyes closing despite himself, and shot straight up, refusing to fall asleep. He forced himself out of his chair, swaying slightly as all the blood rushed into his head, then made his way out of the room.

On his desk, forgotten, his phone buzzed.

They'd already moved into two separate dorms by the time Jeongin got out of his first rut. It was better in some aspects (less people to keep track of, ruts less evident in the shape of missing members), worse in others ( pack isn't here , his omega whined, and he simply missed them besides). Things seemed to be going well - they were gaining popularity, creating a name for themselves. They were finding their own style, expressing themselves in any way they wanted. Except - Chan would get random flashes of heat, then cold like someone poured a bucket of ice water over him. He'd feel the need to touch the others - a hand on Jisung's shoulder here, leaning his head on Changbin there, catching an unsuspecting Hyunjin in a bear hug every once in a while.

He didn't pay attention to it, at first. It happened so gradually, and he'd already been a touchy person before that, so he didn't think anything was that different.

Then, on a random Tuesday, working on a track in his room, his door carelessly open, Jisung wandered in.

"Chan-hyung, are you okay?"

He turned to Jisung, eyes still glued to the screen.

"Yeah, I'm good. What's up, Hannie?"

"I don't know, you smell... you smell ."

Chan froze. Every other noise stopped existing, save for the pounding of his heart.

He couldn't.

There was no way - he took his suppressants, he always took his suppressants, never in the last six years had he forgotten to take his suppressants -

Breath stuttering, he forced himself to smile.

"Ah, yeah, it's just. Stress. You know how it is. No need to worry, hyung is 100%."

Jisung looked skeptical, but he'd left it alone. The one advantage of Chan's chosen lie - beta physiology was unpredictable. No one could actually call him out on anything unless he had an active cycle.

He'd booked an appointment that same day.

The doctor who saw him had circles under his eyes which rivaled Chan's.

"Chan-ssi, suppressants aren't meant to be taken long-term."

"Of course, I understand," He said, even though no one had bothered to tell him that as a terrified teen.

"Being on suppressants for such a long period of time is not only medically ill-advised, it's also not sustainable. You can't just force your cycle to stop existing - at some point you're going to have to have a heat. Frankly, I'm surprised it took this long for them to start wearing off." He fixed his glasses, then turned to his computer. Chan tried desperately to swallow down whatever was crawling up his throat. "The best I can do is transition you to birth control, which will hopefully mitigate the effects of your heats and make the next one more bearable." He typed something quickly, then printed out a prescription. "Six years is a very long time, Chan-ssi. I suggest you stock up on painkillers, maybe find someone you trust to help you out."

He hadn't wanted to argue with the doctor, considering himself lucky that he managed to get an appointment at such short notice, but birth control wasn't a viable option. He couldn't afford to start having heats, no matter how regular. It meant interruptions to schedules, less time to work. It meant having heats , which was not a welcome idea at all. The first one had been terrible, and now he'd have to have them every few months?

Maybe worst of all, it meant telling them .

It meant admitting that he's been lying all this time. That he couldn't trust himself to be omega - be himself - and still be the leader they needed.

So he'd done the only thing he could think of - he scanned the prescription, saved it in a locked folder on his phone, tore it to pieces and threw it into a trash can on his way home.

He kept taking the suppressants. It was stupid - he'd already seen that they were fading - but the thought of having heats was too frightening to entertain.

His smell kept getting stronger. If he couldn't tell by the members' faces, some of them outright told him as such. He excused it with stress, but it sounded weak even to him. Worse, he was beginning to feel feverish, breaking into cold sweat at random moments.

He didn't understand, at first, what the doctor had meant by you're going to have to have a heat . It sounded like when he was told he needed to let his wrist rest - a suggestion, medical advice. Not a fact. But with every passing day, he could feel it closing in like a storm on the horizon. Suppressants or no, it was only a matter of time before it happened.

Desperate, he'd confided in one of their managers, Siwoo. He couldn't tell the members. Not like this. Preferably not in any way.

He'd elected to ignore the look of pity Siwoo sent him when he'd insisted on that fact, and the subsequent advice that he should tell them, for all of their sakes. But, to his credit, Siwoo hadn't argued - he'd helped Chan book a hotel and set up a fake schedule to cover his tracks with the others.

When it finally came, the heat was brutal. It tore through him like his body was taking revenge on him. He didn't even remember half of it - only that he was delirious, and dehydrated, and in so much pain he could barely keep his eyes open, and all he wanted was for someone to hold him, and to shove his nose into the laundry basket at the dorm. He spent every single moment thinking about the others. About their scents, yes, but also just them - their faces, their voices, their hands, their bodies. Every time he closed his eyes, his mind supplied him with a different fantasy. A different image of one of them there with him, helping him, comforting him. Easing the pain. He'd come to those images more times than he could count.

It took almost a week and a half for it to subside. He came back to the dorm burning with shame. Every time he looked at one of them, he was reminded of what he'd thought about, what he'd done. For longer than he cared to admit, he kept to the studio, not trusting himself around the others.

Then, before he could figure out what to do next, COVID hit.

Chan found himself at the cafeteria. He thought he may have micro-slept on the elevator, because he had no idea how he got there. He was craving something sweet, and the siren song of a can of Monster energy drew him to the beverage fridge.

"Hyung," someone bumped into him by way of greeting.

"Hannie," He smiled, suddenly feeling light and airy. Jisung glanced at him, then laughed.

"What's with that face? I just came to see if you wanted to eat together."

"Yeah," Chan said, having heard about 10 percent of that sentence.

Jisung's eyes bounced between his for a moment, his eyebrows climbing further up his forehead.

"Okay, I see what Minho-hyung means when he says you've got love goggles on, now." Jisung giggled, then made his way to the salad bar. Chan followed him, not unlike a lost puppy.

A few blinks later found him at a table, chopsticks halfway to his mouth.

He frowned.

"Hyung? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, Hannie, fine. Just didn't sleep too good last night."

Jisung hummed, his cheeks stuffed full. Chan's heart melted into a pile of goo, his chopsticks forgotten. It must've shown on his face, because Jisung's face reddened, and he whined hyung , and then he took a bit of Chan's food in his own chopsticks and shoved it into Chan's mouth.

"Eat already, jeez." He griped, but his ears were still burning.

Chan did as he was told.

Thankfully, the food seemed to rejuvenate him a little. Jisung walked with him back to his office, and Chan didn't lose any more time, for which he was grateful.

"Do you have anything you want to work on?"

"Nah, I just thought I'd sit with you. Me, Hyunjin and Minho-hyung have been practicing for hours, I'm kinda dead."

Chan hummed, putting his headphones back on over one ear.

"Is there anything specific you were working on?"

It wasn't very common for them to work on their choreos in small groups, especially with the amount of different formations they had.

"Yeah, that move in the chorus almost killed me - you know, the popping one - and they both had no plans for today, so they offered to help."

"That's nice." Chan's chest felt warm and gooey at the thought of his members spending time together. Jisung laughed again.

"Jeez, hyung, what is with you today?"

Chan just shrugged.

"We should probably leave by 8." Jisung settled into the couch.

Chan glanced at the clock - plenty of time left. He put his headphones on properly and got back to work.

In terms of coming to terms with his cycle, COVID was both a blessing and a curse. Everyone went home, which left Chan alone at the dorm. For the first time in six years, he was free to have a heat not at a hotel.

When he felt it approaching, he resolved to lock himself in his room. He didn't want to taint the rest of the dorm with his desperation.

That resolution lasted barely a day.

The second day found him in Changbin's room, nose pressed shamefully to his pillow, taking in the remnants of his spicy-sweet gingerbread scent, hand flying over his dick, three fingers shallowly fucking his cunt. The next day - in Jisung's room, wrapped in the clothes he'd haphazardly left on the floor before he'd left, smelling equal amounts of sweat and Jisung's bergamot and earthy sage, humping his mattress and trying to ignore the way he kept wishing it was Jisung himself instead. The day after that - in Hyunjin's room, cradling to his face the shirt Hyunjin painted in, desperately seeking his vanilla and cardamom, inhaling deeply enough he was half convinced the paint fumes damaged his brain, especially when his fevered mind imagined it was Hyunjin fingering him instead.

Cleaning became somewhat of a religious ritual for him after that. He didn't know when quarantine would end. He was terrified of someone, anyone, coming in and smelling - well, everything. He washed their sheets and put them back on their beds, taking care to leave everything in the exact same state of disarray it'd been in when they'd all left.

By the time they all came back, he already made the transition to a combination of the birth control he'd been prescribed and the strongest scent blockers on the market. With Siwoo's help, he made a detailed plan to deal with his heats; the benefit of his birth control was that he could now anticipate them, and prepare in advance.

They were still painful, and lonely, and overall pretty miserable, but they were short and efficient, and for the most part, they didn't interfere much with his life.

And if any of the members teased him about his odd individual schedules, insinuating he was meeting someone, or having some affair - he'd laugh it off, grateful for the scent blockers and Siwoo for keeping the truth under wraps.

The next couple of years had passed by relatively uneventfully, at least in terms of Chan's heats. He'd developed a routine, which allowed him to focus on what really mattered - their lives had become busier than ever, with tours and performances and album promotions and brand deals. Despite his hind brain protesting it, the kids became more self-sufficient. He was expected to let them resolve their own conflicts, now, and to let them take on more responsibilities. Something in him thrashed at the thought of not being needed anymore, of the kids doing just fine without him, but he shoved it down deep where all thoughts of that kind went. When they started talking about splitting up further, he wasn't exactly surprised; no, it was a gradual sort of development, their independence, their need for space. His heart felt a little more bruised every time they brought it up, but he went along with it, knowing it was the right decision, and trying to convince himself that it didn't mean they'd grow apart.

The more he thought about it, after, the more the decision to room with Jeongin seemed less of a decision and more of a manifestation of fate, if such a thing existed.

The move was gradual, as they had some time until their previous leases ended. Chan didn't own much, and the few sentimental objects he did hold on to fit inside a suitcase, so he managed to move most of his belongings in just one trip.

Jeongin was a different story. Chan was hesitant to use the term hoarder , but it was a near thing: if nothing else, it was an opportunity for Jeongin to examine his many items and ask himself which ones truly brought him joy. (Chan was both grateful and somewhat heartbroken to watch some of the older, well-loved and scent-soaked items go. He may or may not have pilfered a hoodie from the "to throw" pile.)

And then there was the other thing: now that they lived together, Jeongin seemed to pay very close attention to Chan's habits. Chan had never known him to do that before, and asking Felix yielded mixed results ("He's like that sometimes, yeah. It's probably a youngest thing, to pay attention to the hyungs.", And then: "Right, but did he ever like, remind you to go to sleep?" To which Felix blinked, and said: "No, not that I can remember." in a voice that was a bit perplexed and a bit something else, like he was holding something back), and the idea of confronting Jeongin about it made him so embarrassed his ears practically caught on fire, so he had no choice but to accept it.

Sometimes, it was like this:

"Oh, hey, Chan-hyung," Jeongin toed off his shoes as he entered the apartment, one hand holding an iced americano, the other holding a plastic bag. Chan broke away from the game on his phone for long enough to throw a smile his way, subtly taking in his fresh forest-floor and berries smell. Chan smiled to himself - that usually meant a good mood.

"I bought you that energy drink you like." Jeongin reached into the bag and pulled out a can of blue Monster energy.

Chan flushed. He didn't think he'd ever get used to anyone remembering his preference for anything , and he was still uncomfortable with any of the members surprising him with gifts.

"Thank you, hyungnim," He joked, and Jeongin snorted, his ears going a little pink. Chan lost himself to his game for a bit after that - days off were rare, and he was fully intending to lose himself to Genshin while he could.

"Here," A glass appeared in front of him. Chan blinked, confused. He looked up to see Jeongin had poured him a glass of Monster, and was holding it out to him, waiting patiently for Chan to take it. Something in his chest hummed, pleased, something that felt like alpha is taking care of me , and Chan almost flinched, shaking himself and grabbing the glass, drinking the whole thing in one go, hoping the warmth he felt in his face didn't show.

Jeongin disappeared after that, spending the rest of the day doing god knows what in his room. Chan kept looking at the glass. He could almost feel it judging him.

Other times, it went like this:

A knock at his studio door, then Jeongin entering without waiting for Chan to say anything. He was holding a paper bag of something that smelled absolutely divine .

"Hey, Chan-hyung, brought you something to eat." He held the bag up, then put it on the chair next to Chan's, mindful not to place it next to any precious equipment, and Chan's omega curled up in his chest, sending heat rushing through his sternum and up through his airways to the rest of his face.

"Thank you, Iyen-ah," Because there were only so many times Chan could make the same joke, and it was late, and he was tired, and there was something sort of gooey and gross in his chest that wanted to make itself known.

And still more, late at night, when the only lights at the apartment were Chan's warm desk lamp and Jeongin's phone illuminating his sleepy face:

"Channie-hyung, can I come in?"

"Yeah, of course."

He smelled of sweet berries, mellow, sleep-soft and comforting. Chan looked at him - his eyes still swollen from sleep, and Chan's stomach turned, he must've been sleeping, did I wake him, and then he set down a warm mug on Chan's desk.

"It's chamomile, Hyunjin-hyung said it helps him sleep."

Chan rubbed at the sudden pain in his chest, something like fondness and guilt and something he'd never dare say out loud, and just said:

"Go back to sleep, Iyennie," Like that would fix anything at all. And still, somewhere in his belly, his omega purred, content, alpha is so good to me , before Chan gulped down the still boiling tea in hopes of smothering it.

The worst part, Chan thought, was how horribly he liked it all. He wanted to take care of them all - that never changed. He wanted to be dependable, their rock, the one they could lean on, who would always be there for them. Chan needed to be needed like he needed to make music; it was his air, in his blood, woven into the strands of his DNA.

But this - the neediness, the weakness, the desire to be taken care of - he blamed this on his omega.

Chan and Jisung ended up being late to Felix and Seungmin's apartment. This kind of spontaneous gathering was becoming more and more rare as time went on, and Chan wasn't really sure why - maybe they were just growing up, needing each other's company less, or maybe they were just too busy.

They made their way inside, Chan's head still buzzing from the day, Jisung making himself right at home on the couch. There was beer, fried chicken, way too many snacks, and the TV screen was still showing the victory screen of the last Tekken match, which apparently Changbin won, much to Jeongin's annoyance.

Chan sat on the floor by the coffee table, legs crossed and head leaning on the arm of the couch. He enjoyed floating between threads of conversation - Felix was talking to Changbin about some new DLC, Hyunjin was ruffling Jeongin's hair and telling Seungmin and Jisung about a new anime he was watching, while Jeongin and Minho talked about learning Japanese. Relaxed, at home, they all forwent their scent blockers, and the combination was making Chan even more fuzzy, like he was wrapped in a cozy blanket.

"Chan-hyung," Jisung called, "do you have one of your individual schedules coming up soon?" He used little air-quotes, and Hyunjin snorted in amusement. Chan only smiled, swallowing down the sour taste in his mouth. He looked at the calendar app in his phone, as though he hadn't already burned the dates into his memory, and hummed in affirmation - two weeks away.

Jeongin rolled his eyes. To his credit, he wasn't trying to make it obvious - Chan only caught it because he was just slightly obsessed with noticing all of them all the time.

"Are you taking them somewhere nice?" Felix's eyes were curious, but he seemed tense for some reason. Chan forced himself to chuckle.

"I told you guys, there's no one. It's a schedule."

"Right, yeah, of course," Seungmin smiled, but there was something sardonic to the twist of his mouth. Chan shrunk - all of their eyes were on him, suddenly, and his face was starting to heat under the attention. The dizziness came back full force, no longer nice and comforting - he felt disoriented, overheated, exposed.

"I just don't understand why you feel like you need to lie to us, hyung." Jeongin said, and out of all of them he seemed to be the only one wearing his actual feelings on his face. Chan didn't claim to be an expert, but those feelings didn't seem all that playful, or anywhere in the vicinity of positive.

"I'm- I'm not," He swallowed.

"What, do you think we're going to judge you, or something? We don't care that you're seeing someone else, we're not even asking for details or anything-"

"Iyen-ah," Changbin tried to cut him off, but Jeongin just scoffed. His scent turned stronger, almost suffocating. Chan's head was spinning, drowning in sour cherry.

"Is it really so much to ask? Do we not respect your privacy enough? Do we make you feel like you can't trust us?" Jeongin stared him down. Chan was struggling to breathe, tongue turned leaden in his mouth. "I thought we were supposed to be pack."

Chan inhaled sharply. Had Jeongin stabbed him through the heart, it would've hurt less.

"Jeongin." Minho chided somewhere to the left of the room - Chan wasn't sure, his vision suddenly swimming, his heart thudding in his ears.

"What? Don't tell me you don't feel the same, hyung."

"Jeongin-ah, take a breath. That's no way to talk to your hyung." Changbin's voice, steady and calm. Chan's head was splitting - half of him wanted to curl up on the floor and pass out, the other half urged him to get out of there as fast as he could.

Jeongin scoffed, getting up from the couch and heading to the balcony, presumably to get some air, which was a little awful. That was Chan's plan. Their scents, comforting mere moments ago, turned suffocating - Hyunjin's vanilla was overpoweringly sour, Minho's pinetree rotten, even Changbin's gingerbread turned burnt around the edges.

"Chan-hyung? Are you okay?" Chan's shoulder burnt where Felix touched it.

"Yeah, yeah, fine," He panted. What was wrong with him? This was far from the first time they'd let their scents go unchecked.

Felix's scent, at least, was somewhat soothing - a refreshing sea breeze. Chan latched onto it, onto the hope that at least one of them wasn't upset with him.

"Jeonginnie kind of has a point, though, hyung." Hyunjin mumbled. "We all just want what's good for you, you know that. We want you to be happy. It just hurts that you don't want to share that happiness with us."

Chan's stomach twisted so violently he thought he might throw up. Even worse, his omega piped up. Alpha is mad , it whined, everything in Chan's body pushing him to roll over and apologize until they all calmed down, until their scents all turned happy and harmonious again. Whatever was happening with him - he couldn't stay there. He was making everything worse, and he wasn't even in his right mind to be able to make it right.

"I think- I need to go." He somehow got to his feet. "I'm sorry, I don't- I can't, right now," He stumbled to the door mostly by muscle memory. Someone was calling him, he thought, but the nausea drove him forward. He was both thankful and devastated to see no one followed him outside.

He didn't quite remember how he got home, but somehow he found himself in his bed. The nausea didn't abate, in fact, the pain only got worse. His sheets were soaked - it took him far too long to understand it was him, sweating buckets. His mind was scrambled, his thoughts slow, and only once he felt the familiar stirrings of arousal building like a flame low in his belly did he realize - he must be having a flash heat.

He'd only heard of them before, but there was no other explanation.

He whined, tossing his blanket off one moment then reaching for it the next. Everything was burning hot and freezing cold, and he was so hard it physically hurt, his dick pressing up against his boxers, which made him realize he collapsed into bed without changing out of his clothes. On instinct, he moved to take them off, but then he realized everyone's scents still clung faintly to them, and instead he shoved them over his face, breathing in deeply. It settled the pain somewhat, but shifting around the bed made him suddenly aware of the wetness sticking his boxers to his cunt. He rolled onto his stomach, pressing his cock to the bed and reaching down with one hand to push into his hole, whining when he realized, yet again, that it wasn't enough, need to be full, need a knot-

He brought himself to three tear-stained, unsatisfying orgasms before he heard the front door click open.

His blood went cold even as his dick grew impossibly harder, slick trickling down his thigh as the scent of berries and freshly-turned-dirt permeated the apartment. Alpha is happy, alpha is here to take care of me, his omega purred, even as he panicked, realizing there was no hiding what was happening from Jeongin.

"Chan-hyung?" His voice echoed in the apartment, and he sounded careful, and more importantly he sounded close, and solid, and there-

There was a knock on his door, and Chan collected what was left of his functioning brain cells to cover himself with his absolutely ruined blanket before Jeongin walked in.

"Chan- what," Jeongin gaped, his eyes so wide it would have made Chan laugh under regular circumstances. Chan swallowed, willing the fog out of his brain.

"Iyennie, Iyennie please, can you- go to another dorm, please, just for a couple of days-"

"And leave you alone? Hyung-"

"Please, Jeonginnie please, I can't- you can't," He panted wetly, embarrassing tears of frustration and pain gathering on his lashes, "Please," he whimpered, a keen of desperation building in the back of his throat.

Jeongin's throat clicked as he swallowed, his eyes bouncing around Chan's form under the blanket. Excruciatingly slow, he started nodding, his hands clenching and unclenching, as though it was taking all of his physical strength to do what Chan was asking him to do.

"Yeah, yes, okay. Okay. But let me call someone-"

"No, no-"

"Hyung, there must be someone you trust to help you-"

Chan really did keen then, his body burning, his nose full to the brim with cherries cherries cherries, ripe and exploding on his tongue, his omega screaming for Jeongin to stay, please, alpha -

"Okay, okay I'll go, I'll go," Jeongin stumbled back, something in his eyes close enough to fear that Chan's heart snapped clean in half. "Call me, please, hyung, let me know you're okay."

And the next thing Chan knew, Jeongin was gone, and he was alone.

Chapter 2: reaching

Chapter Notes

so... hi ^^ don't mind the word count.
first of all thank you all so much for the comments! they really kept me motivated and warmed my heart <3
this story spiraled so far out of my control, but i felt it wouldn't be right to keep it at just two chapters and rush it, so you can expect a third chapter to close it out.
i kind of can't believe this is finally out. this is the longest thing i've written to date, which is insane.
anyway, i hope you enjoy it!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

"The maknae said you're not feeling well," Seungmin entered without knocking, placing a to-go cup of what looked like tea on Chan's desk before sitting on the couch behind him.

Chan's studio was mercifully clean when he arrived that morning, as early as he could convince himself to get out of bed.

"Thank you, Seungminnie," he said absently, eyes running over the track he had open on cubase.

The flash heat cost him three precious days of work. He was tempted to go into the studio as soon as it ended, and was stopped only by the realization that he absolutely reeked and probably needed at least four hours of sleep.

Now here he was.

"He looks pissed."

Chan hummed questioningly.

"Iyen-ah."

Chan's fingers twitched. His left ear started ringing - exhaustion, he reasoned, or too much time wearing headphones, or he needed to get his ears checked, or-

"Did he tell you why?" His voice was strained even to his own ears.

"He didn't tell me anything. He didn't tell me he was pissed, either, he just looks like it." Seungmin's voice was flat, as always. Even so Chan still felt an accusation behind it.

He cleared his throat.

"I'll talk to him," he promised, even though he didn't know whether he actually would. Seungmin just shrugged, as though that wasn't the reason he brought it up in the first place, then pulled out his phone.

Chan willed his eyes to focus on the audio waves dancing across his screen.

They haven't talked about it. Haven't had a chance - Chan hasn't even seen Jeongin between that shower, passing out for a couple of hours, texting him he was fine, and showing up at the studio.

It at least seemed like Jeongin hasn't told anyone. Chan couldn't imagine Seungmin would be bringing him tea if he knew.

Chan took a sip. It was peachy and sweet.

They probably should talk about it.

Maybe.

Probably.

Or maybe not.

Maybe not ever, actually. It would just be another weird thing . Betas were unpredictable. Who could say they couldn't have random heats? Jeongin certainly didn't know enough about beta physiology to dispute it.

Chan sighed through his nose, his knee bouncing under the desk.

He needed to focus. Whether they'd talk about it or not - that was future Chan's problem. Present Chan needed to lock in and finish this track.

The kids visited him throughout the day. Changbin and Jisung, again, this time with some actual input to his work. Hyunjin, folding himself into the couch and scrolling on his phone for an undetermined amount of time. Felix stopped by for a quick nap. Even Minho popped in as if to make sure Chan was still alive.

No Jeongin, though.

At least Chan could take solace in the fact that none of them seemed to suspect he was anything other than under the weather.

He decided to call it a day when he noticed his eyes were so dry it hurt to blink.

The apartment was silent when he came back.

He had no idea if Jeongin was in. Regardless, he moved about as quietly as he could, taking a quick shower and passing out, for once having tired himself out enough for sleep to come relatively easy.

Time passed quickly, as it always did when Chan had close deadlines and work to get done. His regular heat coming up left him with even less time than he thought, which meant longer days at the company and less time spent at home. Shooting another SKZCODE was the first time he'd found himself somewhere other than a member's apartment, the company building, or the gym, in what felt like weeks. It seemed to be something simple this time - no outlandish outfits or cutesy makeup, which Chan was grateful for.

It was when Jeongin sat in the chair to his left, pulling out his phone and burying his nose in it as stylists puttered about with brushes and hairclips, that Chan realized it'd been a week since they'd last talked.

This wasn't extremely unusual in and of itself. Their schedules often didn't align, whether work related or personal. But Chan had the sudden thought that maybe Jeongin was avoiding him.

Changbin yelled something or other in the background, probably mid-stretch.

"Do you know what we're doing today?" Felix asked behind them. Jeongin shrugged, still engrossed in his phone.

"I heard something about food," Changbin walked by, patting Chan on the back absentmindedly. Through the mirror, Chan spied Minho sitting next to Jisung, who was napping, his head bent at what looked like an uncomfortable angle against the back of the couch. Minho caught him staring, and winked, his lips curled in a feline sort of smirk. Chan snorted, almost disrupting the makeup artist who was carefully placing product on his face.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Jeongin glancing at him, his gaze unreadable. His eyes were narrowed, but that could just mean he was tired. He wasn't anything other than perfectly cordial to the staff, so Chan had no reason to suspect anything was wrong.

Aside from the obvious.

Seungmin came by to bother them not long after. Chan allowed himself a quiet moment of renewed appreciation of Seungmin's haircut. Despite how long it's been, he still wasn't used to it - Seungmin had had long, fluffy bangs for so long that Chan kept expecting them every time he looked at him. The longer hairstyle always made him look cute, puppy-ish. His wide, toothy smile only made the impression stronger. And yet, Chan couldn't deny that the new hairstyle suited Seungmin. Made him look more mature, sharper.

Sexier.

Chan swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

The stylist finished soon after, and Chan vacated his seat for the next member to come and get their makeup done. His neck prickled - he swore he could still feel Jeongin's eyes on him - so he retreated to a corner and took out his phone, figuring he still had some time to rest before the shoot started, and he'd have to turn on his brain. In an excellent display of self flagellation, he opened X. He scrolled through the posts mindlessly, eyes skipping over most of the words, not really taking anything in.

Did Jeongin absolutely hate him now?

Or was he waiting for Chan to make the first move? To come and talk to him?

He didn't notice anyone approaching until Felix poked his shoulder.

"Watcha doin'?"

"Just fuckin' around on my phone, honestly," Chan clicked his screen off, turning his attention to Felix, who took one of Chan's arms in his and started massaging it absently. It reminded Chan of a cat making biscuits, the way Felix pawed and kneaded at his muscles.

"Do you know what we're doing today?"

"Changbin-ah said something about food."

Felix found a particularly tight spot around Chan's forearm and pressed down on it so hard it made Chan hiss through his teeth, but he didn't pull away. He knew, ultimately, he'd feel better afterwards.

"What did you do to your hand, mate?" Felix chuckled. Spent three whole days masturbating , Chan thought.

"Too much gaming, I guess."

The concept for the shoot seemed to be Mafia again, or at least something in the vicinity of Mafia. One by one, they were called to pick a note that would give them their role, before they were led to their set for the day - a spacious kitchen, equipped with every appliance and utensil Chan could imagine (which, to be fair, wasn't an incredibly high bar, and yet), the marble countertops shiny as if just polished. But more importantly -

"Woah!" Changbin's voice carried through the studio, calling their attention to the tray of ingredients laying on the table in front of the camera: rice, eggs, fresh vegetables, seaweed, spam, sauces and condiments, a huge box of kimchi, frozen seafood, and in the middle of it all, placed front and center, packages of meat - samgyopsal and moksal. Chan swallowed as his mouth watered, then joined everyone's exclamations of awe and excitement.

"Wait, do we have to make all this?" Changbin asked the staff, who confirmed that they would, in fact, be cooking.

They sat at the table, and after some last-minute makeup adjustments, the shoot began.

The rules were as follows: there would be three twenty-minute rounds of the game. By the end, they would have to have successfully prepared 5 dishes - hameul pajeon, gimbap, bibimyeon, pork bulgogi and kimchi jjigae. The mafia's job was the same as the original game, except now in order for them to eliminate one of the members in a round, they had to sabotage the group's cooking efforts. `Sabotage' seemed to include anything from purposefully hiding an ingredient to fucking up a step of the recipe, which Chan thought was pretty unfair, what with their nonexistent cooking skills, before he reminded himself this was just a game. The final round would begin after they all ate, and the penalty for the losing team was to do all of the dishes.
As soon as the explanation ended, one of the staff members announced the beginning of the first round, setting all of them scrambling out of their seats.

"Wait, how many mafias are there?" Hyunjin asked, looking around.

"Two, no? Isn't that how it usually is?" Seungmin answered, beelining towards the kimchi, "I'm making the kimchi-jjigae!"

"Wait a second, Kim Seungmin, how do you know that?" Felix joked, but Seungmin ignored him in favour of getting started on his dish.

"Hyunjinnie, you make the noodles, Hannie, you make the eggs, Yongbokkie, you can cut the vegetables for the gimbap, Jeonginnie, you make the omelettes for the gimbap, who's left?" Minho listed, his voice monotone.

"What should I do, hyung?" Changbin asked. Minho hummed, looking around.

"You can make the rice. You won't burn rice, right?"

"Of course not! I know how to make rice!"

"I can help with the pajeon," Chan interjected before that could escalate. He was relieved that he got to be a civilian again this time - he wasn't good at mind games, and he'd hate to purposefully sabotage a delicious meal.

"Okay, I'll start cutting the meat," Minho agreed easily, and they all got to work.

"Wait, how do you do this...?" Changbin wondered, holding a bag of rice. It wasn't the instant kind that they were all used to just popping in the microwave - he actually had to cook it. Minho rattled off some instructions, his hands busy with a knife, while Chan poured the frozen seafood into a pot with a little bit of water and set it to a low temperature to defrost it. Then he picked up a free cutting board and started chopping onions.

"Hyung, how should I cut this?" Felix asked him, gesturing to a carrot.

"Just like, strips, probably, "

"Ah, like this?" Felix demonstrated, moving his knife vertically over the vegetable.

"Mmhm. You should cut it in half, first, though."

"Okay, got it," Felix immediately got to work, brows furrowed in concentration.

"Where are the eggs?" Jisung's head poked between them. Chan looked around, but he couldn't spot them.

"They were on the table, no?" Felix looked up from his board, and Jisung, probably thinking Chan wasn't watching him, reached forward to steal the bowl of spinach from under Felix's nose.

"Yah, Han Jisung," Chan grinned as Jisung jumped, caught, his lips pursed in embarrassment, and looked at the camera for help.

"Wait, what?" Felix's head swiveled back, his eyes wide as saucers, "Yah!"

"Seriously, that was too obvious!" Changbin complained, puttering about with his bag of rice, looking completely lost.

"What do I do?" Jisung asked the staff, who gave him no answer. "Aw, I don't wanna do the dishes!"

"Let's do it like this - if you help us, we won't vote you out." Hyunjin suggested.

"Oh, jagi-yah, thank you! "

"I feel like Changbin is gonna end up doing the dishes anyway," Chan snickered, finally locating the carton of eggs and handing it to Jisung.

His eyes started burning from the onion, and he looked up, blinking rapidly in hopes of making it pass quicker. He groaned as his eyes filled with tears, barely able to keep them open.

" Oh wow, " Felix said next to him, stepping away and towards the sink, probably to wash his eyes. It passed after a few painful moments, and Chan looked back down to his board - only to find his onion missing.

"Yah!"

He looked around, trying to find the culprit, but everyone seemed busy with something. Seungmin was diligently cutting his own ingredients, but he was always Chan's number one suspect in these games.

"Seungmin!" Chan made his way towards him, poking around his ingredients.

"What?" Seungmin looked up from his chopping board, eyes innocently rounded, which made him all the more suspicious.

"Where did you put my onion?"

"I was here the whole time!"

Chan narrowed his eyes at him, leaning close to try and figure out whether he was telling the truth.

"No, seriously! Iyen-ah, I was here the whole time, right?"

Jeongin nodded off to Seungmin's left, though he didn't make eye contact with Chan. Chan eventually relented, going to look for his missing onion elsewhere. He checked all the countertops, the cupboards and drawers, even the sink - but it was nowhere to be found. Defeated, he returned to his chopping board, where Felix was already peeling potatoes. Chan took a look at the ingredients, then suddenly remembered the seafood. It seemed to be thawing fine, so he stirred it a little bit, lowered the heat, and rejoined Felix, picking up some zucchini and getting started on cutting it. Before he finished the first one, the timer sounded, meaning they needed to gather around to vote. They turned off all working stoves and regathered at the table.

The staff instructed them to close their eyes, then one by one called each of the roles. Chan thought he could feel Changbin moving next to him when they called for the doctor to wake up (in this version of the game, he was the health inspector), but he couldn't be sure. Everyone woke up, and the staff announced that fortunately, no one had been fired (killed) overnight. As soon as they finished talking, accusations started flying.

"I think it's Kim Seungmin," Minho said immediately and predictably, though Chan was inclined to agree.

"I was working on the jjigae the entire time." Seungmin intoned, unimpressed.

"Hyung was seriously working on the jjigae," Jeongin confirmed, "But we know Hannie-hyung is Mafia."

"You said you wouldn't vote me out though," Jisung pouted. "I helped!"

"I seriously don't know who else it could be." Felix looked around at them all, lost in thought.

"Changbin-hyung wasn't doing anything the whole time," Hyunjin suggested.

"Yah! I was trying to make rice!"

"Ah, that's right, hyung can't do anything in the kitchen, it might not be intentional," Hyunjin snickered as Changbin bounced his leg, trying to shake off his embarrassment. Chan tried to think of who was around him when he was chopping the onion, but only one person came to mind.

"It could be Lix, actually?" He wondered.

"Me?" Felix gasped.

"Yeah, you were the closest to me when I started crying from the onion, and then it was gone."

"I went to wash my eyes from the onion, though."

"How convenient..." Jisung tapped his finger to his chin.

"Yah, what are you doing, you're mafia too, you idiot," Minho snickered.

"Oh, right." Jisung snorted.

"Okay, let's vote!"

They received little slips of paper, and took a few moments to write the names of who they suspected on them. Hyunjin gathered them all and began to read them out.

"Okay, Seungmin, Seungmin, Jisung," Hyunjin paused. "What? Whose handwriting is this? Hold on," Hyunjin turned the slip of paper this way and that, "Ah! Hyunjin," He exclaimed, then continued, "Jisung, Felix, quokka, Changbin."

"Yah!!!" Jisung called, shooting them all a murderous look, that frankly, on his face, looked more cute than scary. "You said you wouldn't vote me out! What is this?!"

They all laughed, unable to hide their amusement at his adorable outrage.

"Okay, fine! You make the food on your own then!"

"Jisung-ah, you barely finished boiling the eggs," Minho smirked, then laughed when Jisung sputtered.

They quickly made their way back to their stations, and Chan decided to be as quick as he could about chopping the vegetables, so that he could at the very least keep them safe from whoever was the mafia. Felix remained by his side, chopping diligently (if a bit awkwardly). Some of the staff thankfully kept an eye on the stoves while they were all voting, so nothing seemed to be burned, though Changbin was suspiciously quiet from his corner by the pot of rice.

Chan finished up his share of the vegetables, and stared at the bowl where he collected them all, wondering how to go about securing it. The onion was a lost cause - he had no idea where they put it, but he wasn't willing to give up on all the other vegetables. One hand holding the bowl, he glanced over at the seafood mix on the stove - it seemed mostly thawed out, which meant he could start on actually making the batter. Frying it up would best be kept for last, so it's still warm...

Lost in thought, he almost didn't notice the bowl in his hand moving. He snapped his eyes back, but the only person around him was Felix.

"Lix?" He grinned.

"Huh?"

" Did you just try to take some of the veggies? "

" No, I was just adding, " Felix gestured at his own chopped vegetables with his knife, then to the bowl. To his credit, it didn't seem emptier, but Chan remained suspicious.

" Yeah, you were adding? "

" Yeah, mate. "

Chan kept watching him. Felix's mouth twitched upwards.

"Seriously!"

Chan giggled, and Felix soon followed.

"Hyung, what do I do now?" Hyunjin called, presumably to Minho. Chan guessed he must've finished up with the noodles.

"You can make the sauce," Minho called, focused on the meat, which was coming along very nicely by the looks of it. Chan refocused - he was on pajeon duty, so he needed to start making the batter.

Vegetable bowl still in hand, he hunted through the cabinets for a bowl big enough to make the batter in. He passed Changbin on the way, who was walking around quite aimlessly in the kitchen.

"Shouldn't you be looking at the rice?"

"The rice is fine, I'm helping with something else,"

"Oh, really?" Chan glanced at the pot of rice hesitantly.

"Ah, come on! I can make rice!" Changbin huffed. Chan smiled and left him to it, having found the perfect bowl. He made his way to the stove and lost the next few minutes to measuring ingredients and making the batter, making sure to keep the bowl of vegetables in his sight as he did.

"Hyung," Hyunjin sidled up to him, "Minho-hyung told me to help you."

"Oh? I think I'm doing okay, though?" He looked around, taking stock of his ingredients - bowl with vegetables, check, bowl with batter, check, pot with seafood - "Wait a minute," he spun around, yet again looking for a missing item. How could he lose an entire pot? It was right there a second ago! And besides - where could they even hide it? It was pretty big!

"What are you looking for?" Hyunjin spun around with him. Chan narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously.

"...nothing. I'm gonna finish up here." He started pouring the batter into the vegetables. Hyunjin giggled.

"Hyung, I'm not the mafia! I'm here to help you, seriously."

"Okay, then go look for the pot of seafood."

"Ah, how did you lose a whole pot?"

Chan tsked. He focused on mixing everything together, and before he knew it, the pot came back to his line of sight. That ruled Hyunjin out, he supposed. Thanking him, he got started on finally mixing everything together, so that he could cook the pajeon next round.

As soon as he was done, the staff called the end of the second round.

"I think it's I.N." Changbin announced.

"Me?"

"Wait, why?" Minho asked.

"He was walking around suspiciously."

"So were you, though," Chan offered.

"No, I was helping Hyunjin with the sauce."

"You weren't much help to be honest, hyung," Hyunjin scoffed, smiling.

"Yah!"

"I still think it's Felix." Chan turned to look at him.

"Okay," Felix grinned, "Vote me out then."

"Oh, he's definitely the mafia," Minho laughed.

"Let's play!" Jisung called, having become the storyteller once he was voted out of the game. One by one, he called the different roles. Chan didn't notice anything specific - then again, he was a little close to drifting off.

"Good morning everyone! So, last night, uh... our kimchijjigae master stayed late to perfect his recipe," Jisung wrapped an arm around Seungmin, who looked around in absolute outrage, "But unfortunately there was a terrible accident with the ingredients, and he poisoned himself!"

"Who is it?" Seungmin demanded. Chan was laughing, but it was kind of a dick move - they all knew how seriously Seungmin took his jjigae.

"Okay, let's vote!" Minho announced much too cheerfully.

"Who is it?!"

"Everyone, pass me your notes," Jisung tapped his fingers on the table as Seungmin shook his head in disbelief.

"Ah, I seriously don't know..." Changbin muttered, but wrote something down anyway. Chan had a hunch - he wrote down Felix's name. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Jeongin staring at him. He almost looked like he was zoning out, if Chan didn't know him. He turned to Minho, who was next to him, instead.

"Lino-yah, listen to me, I think it's Felix."

"Really? Hmm... Okay!"

They folded their notes and passed them along.

"So! We have... Changbin, Jeongin, Felix, Hyunjin, Felix, Bang Chan... Felix out!"

"Oh really? Aw..." Felix pouted and lay on the table, his head resting on top of his folded arms. The staff announced the final round, and they scattered to their respective stations once again.
They had to somehow wrap everything up just the five of them, but Chan wasn't too worried - most of the food was already done. He took a quick look around - the meat seemed to be well underway under Minho's masterful hand, the noodles and rice were practically done, Jeongin seemed to be manning the kimchi jjigae in Seungmin's stead, and all the toppings for the gimbap and bibimyeon also seemed to be pretty much done. All that was left was to fry up the hameul pajeon and assemble everything. Pleased with their pace, Chan heated a large skillet, waited for a few moments until it seemed like the right temperature, then poured the batter in. He debated whether he should multitask and leave the pajeon to cook. On the one hand, it could take a while; on the other, he didn't want it to burn.

He ended up bringing the ingredients for the gimbap over to his spot by the stove and assembling it there. He mostly tuned everything else out: he was, frankly, starving, and the smells of all the food only made him more anxious to finish up and get to eating all of it. He flipped the pajeon, disproportionately pleased at the fact he managed to keep in one piece, then got to rolling the gimbap. He then sliced it into nice, thick pieces, and slid the pajeon into a serving plate. It all honestly looked delicious - he was pretty proud of himself for that. Smiling to himself, he took the two plates to the main table, then started ferrying other plates that seemed to be done to the table as well. No sooner than they finished setting everything up, the last timer beeped, announcing the end of the third round. They all whooped and clapped in unison, focus now completely shifted to the food in front of them rather than the game. They had to wait a few moments for the camera crew to get some photogenic shots of the plating, but they soon got the go-ahead and tucked in.

"Woah!" Changbin immediately went for the meat, as did Chan. It nearly melted in his mouth, juicy and rich and absolutely perfect. He hummed in joy, his brows scrunched as the flavor exploded on his tongue. Jisung seemed to be struggling with cutting the pajeon, so Chan took it upon himself to divvy it up, putting a sizable piece on Jisung's plate.

"This rice is..." Seungmin started.

"What? Why? What's wrong?" Changbin demanded immediately. Chan giggled, covering his mouth.

"Hyung, you managed to ruin rice?" Jisung laughed as Changbin's ears reddened.

"I'm still eating it though," Hyunjin placated, and, true to his word, took another spoonful.

Save for the odd complaint about the rice, there was only the sound of eight hungry men enjoying a hard-earned meal.

"Let's play the last round!" Jisung announced once they were all full. Once again, Chan lay his head on the table, his eyes closed. This time it was even harder to stay awake, his stomach filled with delicious food, but the round was soon over.

"Good morning everyone! Okay so uh... Last night our flour boy was working on the noodles," Jisung looked over at Hyunjin, "when suddenly, he was strangled by an evil noodle!"

"Yah, Han Jisung, what's with these stories?!" Hyunjin cackled, and Jisung shrugged, laughing.

"Anyway, yeah, Hyunjin is out. Now we have the final vote I guess."

"Wait, there's four of us," Chan reasoned, "We should decide on someone together."

"I think Seo Changbin is the mafia!"

"Ah, why? I worked so hard on the rice! Wasn't it good?" Changbin's eyes were widened, his eyebrows raised as though he didn't taste his own undercooked rice.

"Hyung, it was the worst rice I've ever had. Half of it was uncooked!" Seungmin exclaimed, more upset about it than even Minho.

"Oh, right."

Chan snickered as Changbin scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed.

"Kim Seungmin, the dead can't speak!" Minho complained. Seungmin very nearly rolled his eyes.

"I think it's Chan-hyung." Jeongin smiled at him, but his eyes were narrowed in a distinctly unfriendly way.

"Why?" Felix protested.

"Yeah, hyung's pajeon was really good," Jisung joined.

"I don't know," Jeongin tilted his head, "I just feel like hyung is good at keeping secrets."

Chan's smile froze on his face. Jisung giggled nervously. Silence seemed to stretch between them endlessly. Chan's eyes flit between Jeongin's, his brain full of static. Jeongin's smile wasn't just unfriendly - it was almost acidic. Chan could feel it in his throat, burning its way down his esophagus, curdling in his stomach.

Someone cleared their throat.

Chan blinked, willing himself to tear his eyes away from Jeongin's face.

"Let's vote," Minho suggested.

Chan was - confused. He scribbled down a name, but his thoughts were somewhere else entirely. What was Jeongin doing? What was he thinking ?

"Okay! We have Changbin, Bang Chan, Jeongin, and Changbin! Changbin-hyung is out!"

Minho shot up out of his seat, pumping his fists victoriously. Chan vaguely registered that Minho was the second spy, and somehow evaded all of their notice. He smiled, probably, trying to look amused. Jisung and Minho were high fiving each other, and Jisung was apologizing for being kicked out early.

"Hey, let's do rock-paper-scissors for who has to stay for the dishes." Hyunjin suggested.

"Isn't this too much for one person?"

"Okay, let's pick two then."

Chan participated on auto-pilot. He ended up being right; Changbin and Hyunjin were left to clean everything up. Seungmin joked about the ones suggesting the rock paper scissors being the ones who got the penalty.

The shoot finally wrapped up. Their cars were waiting to take them home after a long day.

Chan wanted nothing more than for this day to be over.

On the ride home, he and Jeongin were both on their phones. He didn't know about Jeongin, but he was just staring at the screen, not really comprehending anything.

They entered the apartment to the tune of the keycode lock, taking off their shoes and lining them up neatly.

Chan made to head to his room, but Jeongin stopped him, hand wrapped around his wrist.

"Are we really not gonna talk about it?"

Chan swallowed. God, he did not want to talk about this. Why did they have to address it? What good would come of it?

"Talk about what?"

Jeongin gaped. He looked at Chan like he was stupid, which was a little hurtful, but fair.

"Your heat!"

"There's nothing to talk about."

"How long did you think you could hide it from us?"

"Jeongin, drop it."

"Does everyone else know? Is it just me?"

"It's not - nobody knows, Jeongin-"

"So what, all this time you lied to us and the company?"

"No, it's - Siwoo-hyung knows."

Silence. Chan clenched his fists to stop his hands from shaking.

"Siwoo-hyung knows." Jeongin repeated. "You trust Siwoo-hyung more than us."

"Of course I don't, you know I don't-"

"Evidently, you do, at least with this -"

"Jeongin. Please ." Chan was not above begging. Not when it came to this.

Jeongin froze.

His eyes bounced around Chan's face, searching. Chan wished he could help him find whatever he was looking for, but he had no idea what it was.

Then, before Chan could say another word, Jeongin's face completely shuttered. He huffed and stormed into his room.

The next few days passed by in a blur. Chan's preheat symptoms have been mild since he started the birth control, but even so, he was drowsier than usual, running a little hotter than he was used to, which was saying something, and he was overall more cranky. He tried not to let it show. Did his best to work on the tracks and polish them to a level he'd be pleased with so he could submit them with a clear conscience, and not interact with the others too much. If they found Jeongin's comment from the other day odd, they said nothing of it. They seemed to pick up on his mood, too. Jisung only came by the studio once, offering some input on a song, and then another day Changbin, with a bottle of water Chan was immensely grateful for, as he'd forgotten his own at home.

It was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, he didn't have to worry about having an outburst in front of them, or having to overly police himself so that he wouldn't come off as too moody. On the other, he felt so utterly, crushingly alone .

It was always worse in preheat. It was like his entire body was gearing up to spend an entire week glued to someone else, pumping him with hormones that made him want to be clingy and cuddle and seek skinship like his life depended on it. He'd acted on it before, sometimes, if the members didn't seem to mind; but this time, with everything going on... It'd be better for everyone if he just kept to himself, he knew that, he logically knew that .

Still felt like shit.

Jeongin was practically a ghost. If Chan thought he hadn't been seeing him before, now it was like the man didn't exist on the same plane as him. Even though he felt like he was being stabbed in the gut every time he got home to an empty apartment that smelled like nothing but cleaning products, it at least made it easier to pack for his heat. His meticulousness extended to this as well: he had a list, and a place for every item that he would need. He'd dealt with it enough times to know exactly what he would need to get through it in relative comfort, and he made sure to pack it all neatly. The small suitcase rested by his bed, all packed save for last minute items like his neck pillow and toiletries, two days in advance.

The night before was the first time he smelled Jeongin since the day of the shoot. The alpha still didn't come to greet him, didn't acknowledge Chan's presence in any way, though that may have been Chan's fault, too, for staying cooped up in his own room. He slept fitfully that night, as he always did before his heat hit, shivering then sweating then shivering again. He hated it. It wasn't as bad as the flash heat had been, but it was unpleasant just the same.

In the morning, he ate a light breakfast. He had a feeling by the time he got to his room at the hotel, food would be the last thing on his mind, so it'd be better to get ahead of it now. He drank a cup of chamomile tea in a vain attempt to calm himself, even though he never really felt any less nervous about it all.

He sat on the couch, waiting for a text from Siwoo.

Jeongin's door clicked open, and he slowly emerged. His hair was sticking up in all directions, his face puffy and sleep-creased. Chan's heart squeezed in his chest. Was it normal to miss someone you lived with?

"Is it starting?" Jeongin rasped.

"Soon."

"Are you going to a hotel?"

"Mm."

"Is Siwoo-hyung driving you?"

"Yeah. Safer that way."

Jeongin sniffed the air, then licked his lips.

"You don't... smell any different."

"I use scent blockers, Iyen-ah."

"Still..."

Chan let himself study the planes of Jeongin's chest, his strong arms, highlighted further by his choice to sleep in a tank top. There was something crumpled up in his hand - an old sweater, maybe. Jeongin crossed the room in four large steps, suddenly in front of Chan.

"I wanted to... give you this. Thought maybe it'd help." Jeongin held out the crumpled piece of fabric to him. Chan looked at it - even from this distance, it smelled so strongly of Jeongin, of berries and freshly turned dirt, and underneath, faint notes of sour cherry. He looked back up at Jeongin, who was holding his gaze.

"Are.. are you sure?"

"I've heard that it can help to have packmates' scents in the nest, so. Unless that's not true." Jeongin nearly took it back, but Chan's hand moved without his permission, grabbing onto the sweater. He didn't have the heart to tell Jeongin that he'd never made a nest in his life, that he wasn't sure he knew how to, or even could , but - the scent was... everything. It was driving him insane just as much as it was soothing him. He didn't care if he didn't have a nest - he needed it.

"It does. It is. Thank you, Jeongin-ah." He clutched the fabric to his chest, unwilling to part from it. Jeongin shrugged.

He lingered.

"Jeongin, listen-"

Chan's phone beeped with an incoming text - Siwoo was downstairs.

"It's fine, hyung. Go. Stay safe." Jeongin hesitated for a moment, then quick as a flash, pressed a short kiss to Chan's forehead. He was back in his room before Chan managed to blink.

Chan shivered, his entire face feeling hot. His eyes fluttered as he tried to process, but it was useless - a sudden cramp wracked through him, and he nearly folded in half, forcing himself to breathe through his nose, unintentionally pressing Jeongin's sweater to it, until it slightly passed.

Without wasting any more time, he made his way downstairs and into the car.

Credit where credit was due - Siwoo had never made it weird, not once in the five years he knew about Chan's... issue. He was perfectly respectful and never pried, other than that first time suggesting that he should tell the members. Chan had always been grateful for it, but even more so now, clutching an old sweater that smelled so clearly of Jeongin, sweating and flushed and almost crawling out of his skin. He tugged his beanie down further, uncaring that it was only making him grow hotter.

The ride was relatively quick, and mercifully silent. Aside from the restless energy plaguing him, he did his best to stay still, both to spare Siwoo and in hopes it would stave off the worst of the cramps for a bit.

When they arrived, Chan trailed behind Siwoo. He could probably manage to stutter out his name to the receptionist, but given his state, he preferred to rely on his manager. He wordlessly handed him his ID, fidgeting with his sleeves, his hands empty now that he put the sweater inside his suitcase. The receptionist rattled off a room number and gave them the key with a vacant sort of look in her eyes. Siwoo turned to Chan, his face unreadable.

"Take care of yourself, Chan-ah, yeah?"

Chan just nodded, taking the key, and turned to leave. He knew Siwoo would watch him until the elevator doors closed, because he always did. While it sometimes chafed, Chan learned to appreciate it. It was his hyung's way of looking out for him while still giving him the space he needed.

Moving around seemed to have reminded his body that he was going into heat, and a fresh wave of cramps made him double over as the elevator doors dinged open on the right floor. He longed for Jeongin's sweater - he couldn't explain it, but he felt in his bones that it would help. He shuffled forward, bleary eyes just barely registering the room number before he all but tumbled in, closing the door behind him and leaning on it, catching his breath. His face scrunched up with pain, hand instinctively going to his lower belly, even though that never helped. A few deep breaths helped the pain subside just a bit, and he groaned, knowing he had to move now or he'd end up spending his heat right by this door.

Time to go over his checklist.

He locked the door, then put a chair up against the handle just in case. He flipped open his suitcase, taking an indulgent moment to press Jeongin's sweater against his face and letting the scent soothe him. Then he pulled out towels, padding as much of the bed with them as he could. Next were a few bottles of water and some granola bars, which all went on the nightstand to the right of the bed. He made his way to the bathroom and brought the bathrobe over by his bed, debating where exactly to put it, before settling on folding it neatly on the other nightstand. Lastly, he pulled out his scent blockers and a pack of wet wipes and placed them by the pillows.

He looked around the room, mostly satisfied. It still felt like something was missing, the way it always did, but his checklist was complete - he'd prepared as best he could. Only one thing still stood out; Jeongin's sweater. Chan pondered what to do with it as he stripped out of his clothes and folded them neatly into the closet. He still felt mostly cognizant, though a bit weak and feverish. Though he could feel his arousal building slowly, he hasn't hit the boiling point just yet. A shower would do him some good, he figured. The warm water would help soothe some of the aches in his body, and he'd have time to decide what to do about Jeongin's offering.

The bathroom was cold and smelled clean and soapy, which was relaxing in and of itself. The water heated quickly, and without much else to focus on, Chan suddenly noticed he'd been steadily leaking this whole time. He sighed, then got to cleaning himself up as thoroughly and as clinically as he could, hoping not to stir up any other unnecessary bodily reactions. He distracted himself by thinking of the perfect placement for the sweater; maybe next to his bathrobe, within reach whenever he needed it? Though he couldn't imagine folding it back up and putting it in its place while delirious. On the bed then, as close to his face as he could - maybe by the pillows? Or better yet, wrap it around one of the pillows so that it was all he could smell...

Guilt rose up in him at the idea, leaving a sour taste in his mouth. It was shameful, to use his packmates' scent like that, and without them even knowing . It felt like an invasion of privacy, a perversion of their relationship.

Then again - Jeongin had given him this sweater. He'd gifted him his scent, had given him permission to use it, to comfort himself with it. Something satisfied curled up in his chest at the thought, even as a part of him insisted Jeongin had done so out of duty, maybe some concern; that he didn't imagine or intend for it to be used this way.

But then - that peck on his forehead.

Chan didn't imagine that. Nor did he imagine the last time, when Jeongin came home to him sleeping on the couch. Was it meant to be platonic? Familial?

Did he even think about how Chan would use his sweater? Did he just figure it would help, somehow, knowing how painful heats could be, especially when spent alone?

Or did he imagine Chan, half out of his mind, desperately pressing his nose to the fabric, coming undone to Jeongin's scent? Did he picture the way Chan would look, hands on his body, trying to find relief, Jeongin's name on his lips?

Chan shook himself, slightly dizzy.

There was no point in thinking himself into a spiral - all he'd accomplished was to make himself even harder. He scoffed at his own desperation.

He didn't really want to leave the shower. It was warm, and the steam embraced him, making him feel just a little less weighted. But, he didn't want to risk slipping and breaking his neck because of another cramp, or because he'd been too distracted to think straight. He reluctantly turned the water off and reached for the fluffy white towel on the rack, dragging the fabric roughly across his skin in hopes of drying faster, hissing at the harsh drag of it over his cock and cunt, then made his way to the bed.

He looked at the sweater once more.

"Fuck it," He muttered, and, true to his little fantasy, wrapped it around the pillow securely, like a second pillowcase. He fluffed up the pillow, sending waves of Jeongin's cherry scent into the air. Something in him settled, his mind growing that bit emptier, his limbs just a tiny bit looser. He let himself topple onto the bed, pushing his nose so far into the pillow he could barely breathe.

He hadn't even realized how flushed he'd become until he felt the cool touch of the blanket on his skin. He rolled onto his stomach, groaning at the welcome pressure on his dick. He spent a few mindless moments just rutting against the bed, mind drifting aimlessly, trying to keep himself from rushing. He knew from experience it would only make him more frustrated later.

He took another lungful of Jeongin's scent. If he could press it into his lungs and keep it there forever, he would, but this would have to be enough. It was always so tempting, when Jeongin was walking around the apartment without any scent blockers, to take a deep breath, to linger around him just close enough to catch all the different notes, to savor every layer of him.

He could almost pretend it was Jeongin's shoulder he was nosing into, or his chest. The scent was strong enough, even if the pillow was too soft.

He'd probably card his fingers through Chan's hair, maybe tug a little. Chan imagined he'd laugh a bit at him for enjoying his scent so much. Would he kiss his forehead again?

Would he kiss his lips?

God, Chan wanted him to. Chan imagined Jeongin's lips would be soft with the amount of product he always uses. Jeongin would touch him, maybe. Would trail his fingers from his jaw, to his neck, to his pecs, down his stomach...

Chan's hand followed the same path, imagining it wasn't his own, but Jeongin's hand that wrapped around his shaft. He turned on his back, fisting his cock loosely, as he let his mind wander. The Jeongin in his mind's eye pressed a kiss under his ear, right by his scent gland, and Chan almost whined, wishing the touch was real. He reached up with his other hand to pinch a nipple, hissing at the sting even though his hips bucked forward, pushing his cock further into his tightening hand. Jeongin would smirk, he was sure, and then do it again, and Chan's hand followed, pressing down on the nub and rolling it between his fingers, sending sparks of pleasure skittering across his skin, his dick weeping precum in his hand. Panting, Chan moved his hand down to his cunt, gathering the slick between his folds and pushing two fingers into himself. The relief was short lived - soon enough, the pain in his lower stomach returned, insistent and demanding, like a void that couldn't be filled. He thrust his fingers deeper into himself, biting into his thumb to muffle the noises escaping him as he blindly added a third finger, searching for the spot that would make his vision spark. The pain intensified, his muscles cramping up, his entire body begging for more. He heaved a dry sob, abandoning any attempt at muffling himself in favor of wrapping a hand around himself once more, trying to get himself to come as quickly as he could. Behind his eyes, squeezed shut, he saw Jeongin, kissing down his chest, swiping his fingers through the mess between Chan's thighs and slicking himself up, pressing the head of his cock to Chan's cunt -

Chan came with a choked moan, cum sputtering onto his chest.

The pain subsided. It wouldn't be for long, he knew - he could already feel arousal stirring in him once more, barely staved off.

He turned his head once again, nuzzling into the pillow and inhaling deeply, letting the scent lull him into drowsiness.

He missed Seungmin's scent, cocoa and spice, like dark chocolate and chili. It'd been too long since he smelled him last, Chan realized. It blended so nicely with everyone else's, present and dominant but never overpowering, even while demanding attention.

Seungmin would definitely make fun of the way Chan lay there panting like a dog. Even so, Chan missed him. He missed all of them, actually, which was a terrible realization. His omega couldn't be appeased by Jeongin's scent alone, no, he was much too greedy for that. How awful.

His wrist twinged, making him realize he hadn't even taken his fingers out of his cunt. He pulled them out gingerly, his stomach cramping in protest. He started pumping his cock idly again, the sweat barely cooled on his skin.

At some point, Chan fell asleep. He only noticed because he dreamed that Changbin was there in the room with him, brushing hair off of Chan's sweaty forehead and whispering reassurances.

When Chan woke up, it was to a parched throat and a pounding headache. His limbs felt heavy, and the air smelled faintly salty for just a few moments. The cramping was a given, though it was thankfully ignorable for now.

Chan reached for the bottle of water on his nightstand, gulping it down in one breath. His phone buzzed rhythmically from somewhere in the room. He forced his eyes open, squinting against the light stabbing into them, and cast his eyes around the room, trying to locate his phone.

Usually nobody really contacted him during his heats, and if they did, they usually didn't call.

Past Chan must've been smarter than he gave him credit for, because his phone was on the nightstand. Chan only had to turn slightly to get to it, but even that slight movement had him grimacing. His muscles were stiff, and he was covered in dried sweat and cum. His nose wrinkled in disgust, but he could deal with that after the phone. He squinted at the caller ID, confused, then swiped to accept the call.

"Iyen-ah?" He croaked.

"Hyung," Jeongin exhaled, then said nothing. Chan's eyes drifted shut of their own accord. "Hyung."

Chan hummed.

"Are you... How are you?"

"I'm okay." He answered instinctively.

"Does it... hurt?"

Chan hummed again, not really answering.

"Yeah, I- That's a stupid question, sorry."

"It's okay, Yennie."

"Is the- is it helping?" Jeongin whispered, his voice breathy. It was doing - something to Chan. His blood rushed in his ears.

"Mm-hmm." He rasped. He swallowed, his mouth full of too much spit, eyes still crusty with sleep.

"Yeah."

Jeongin's breathes were staticky over the line.

"I'm glad."

"I wish-" Chan clamped his mouth shut. He was too tired, too dizzy. He shouldn't have been on the phone, he should've hung up and tried to go back to sleep while he could-

"Hyung?" Jeongin said, his voice small, almost like he was waiting for something.

"I don't feel so great, Iyen-ah," Chan said, and that, at least, wasn't a lie, "Hyung's going to hang up now."

"Okay."

Chan put his phone back on the nightstand, within reach. The aircon blew cold air over his skin, and with it came reality.

What was he thinking? He shouldn't have picked up to begin with. What an idiot.

He shivered, somehow having twisted himself out of his blankets in his sleep. The cramps were getting worse again - he should shower while he can.

Jeongin's voice echoed in his head. I'm glad . Made sense. It made sense , Jeongin was his packmate, of course he'd be glad his gift was helping. It didn't mean anything. It didn't mean anything .

His omega purred alpha is taking care of me , as though to spite him.

The sweater was starting to lose Jeongin's scent by the time Chan's heat started subsiding, which was just as well. Though he tried to make sure to apply scent blockers when he was lucid enough, he figured the poor thing must absolutely reek, so he folded it up and put it in a plastic bag along with all his other laundry, making a note to wash it as soon as possible. Though he wasn't in as much pain (or as relentlessly horny) as he was in the peak of the heat, he still felt a bit tender around the edges, like a bruised peach, but he never really knew what to do about that feeling - masturbating left him feeling weirdly empty, his thoughts weren't organized enough to work, and there was only so much time he could spend on his phone without beginning to feel antsy, so he ended up calling Siwoo and asking for a ride back.

The apartment was empty when Chan came back, which gave him the perfect opportunity to stress clean the shit out of it, starting with his dirty laundry. He swept and mopped the floors, wiped down the counters, straightened the angles of the neatly ordered cups, cleaned out the fridge and prepped dinner while he was at it, vacuumed the couch and lit scented candles, ironed his own clothes and then Jeongin's sweater (carefully, gently) and then folded it up and placed it neatly on the corner of Jeongin's hastily made bed. He considered straightening the bed out, but only for a moment - he'd probably done enough hovering for one day.

Jeongin came back while he was heating up dinner.

"Oh, you're back."

Chan threw him a smile, then focused back on the food. Jeongin hesitated at their dinner table.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Jeongin-ah, stop worrying so much," He laughed, though his chest felt warm.

"Sorry," Jeongin chuckled. "What's for dinner?"

"Bokkeumbap. I made the egg the way you like it," He pointed to the egg in question, and Jeongin hummed in thanks, sitting down at the table.

Dinner was nice. Amicable. Jeongin didn't ask any incriminating questions, and Chan didn't offer any incriminating details. The sounds of chewing accompanied the clacking of their cutlery, along with the occasional noise of appreciation at the taste.

Chan slept normally that night, which is to say, not much at all. His body was exhausted, but his mind was wired, full of all of the things he had to get on top. The album would probably be approved in the coming days, which meant they'd have to get started on learning the choreography, then shooting the music videos, promotional content, probably an appearance on music bank, and then an award show barely two months away. He didn't mind being busy, as it would give him plenty of distractions, plus he was genuinely excited about the new album, and yet.

Morning came too soon, especially when it brought with it the threat of choreo practice, but Chan got up anyway. He shuffled out of his room, adjusting the hoodie he pulled over his head, finding a confused-looking Jeongin blinking at him from the doorway of his own room.

"Did you wash this?" Jeongin asked, holding the sweater in his hands, Chan's meticulous folding undone.

"Oh, yeah, of course."

As if Chan was going to give him back his hoodie reeking of heat. He had basic decency.

A look passed over Jeongin's face so quickly that Chan didn't even manage to parse it, then he nodded and went back to his room to get ready. Chan headed to the bathroom, scratching at an annoying itch on his neck. He went through his usual routine - washed his face, brushed his teeth, applied his scent blockers. His mind was on the track he had to finish by the end of the week, and the Genshin missions he wanted to find time to finish.

His neck warmed. He looked in the mirror, confused - the skin around his scent gland was reddened, almost like a rash. He hissed through his teeth as warmth became tingling, then burning . He fanned his neck with his hands, eyes watering. He had no idea what to do but wait for it to pass, which it thankfully, slowly, did.

He checked the expiration date on the scent blockers, but everything seemed to be in order.

"Hyung, are you coming?" Jeongin called from the living room. He called back in affirmation, deciding to deal with whatever this was later.

Jeongin stood by the front door, a tray in his hand - one iced americano and one juice of some kind. Chan smiled to himself. For the first time since Jeongin had walked in on him nearly a month ago, things were starting to feel normal again.

They weren't the first to arrive, or the last, so Chan got a few blissful minutes of zoning out before practice officially began. Minho was splayed on the floor, enjoying his own form of zoning out, while Jeongin was furiously typing on his phone.

Minho stretched noisily, his limbs going every which way. Chan smiled to himself, the urge to squeeze the life out of Minho overtaking him. He stole a couch cushion and hugged it instead. Jeongin glanced at him, then returned to his phone.

It didn't take long for everyone to trickle in. Jisung sent him a look he couldn't really understand, but he figured it had something to do with whatever they all thought he got up to in the past couple of days. Felix slumped onto the couch next to him, leaning his head on Chan's shoulder. Chan sniffed, but they all must've applied scent blockers ( as they should , he chided himself). The tender feeling from the day before hadn't fully passed. Having unrestricted access to Jeongin's scent for days was more than he could ever ask for, but going from that to a complete absence of scents left him feeling... untethered. Jeongin made his way over to Chan's other side, leaning his head on Chan's free shoulder.

Chan blinked.

Not that it was exactly rare of them to show him affection, but it'd been a while. Especially for Jeongin.

Chan hugged the pillow closer to his chest. Felix seemed to be drifting off to his side, which meant he probably stayed up way too late gaming. He was warm, and though his cheekbone was digging into Chan's shoulder, it felt nice. He liked being trusted with Felix's vulnerability.

Minho called them up to start practice.

As he should've expected, Chan's body was less than cooperative. He was sluggish and clumsy, his mind hazy and unfocused, and try as he might, he couldn't perform as well as he wanted to. Minho sent him a single raised eyebrow, which he pretended not to see. By the time they broke for water, Chan was panting, His neck damp with sweat and weirdly itchy again, though he elected to ignore that. Jeongin drifted to his side yet again, just kind of hovering next to him.

"You alright, Iyen-ah?" He mumbled. "Missed me that much?"

Jeongin's face scrunched up, and he shoved Chan playfully. Chan snickered, so indescribably happy Jeongin wasn't upset with him anymore.

"You... look kind of... tired, hyung."

Chan shrugged. Jeongin frowned, looking displeased.

"Did you rest at all?"

Chan's gut clenched. Alpha cares, his omega gushed. He stuffed the feeling down, focusing on the fact Jeongin was questioning his ability to take care of himself. Alpha wants to help , his omega insisted. He grit his teeth.

"I'm fine, Jeongin." Chan made his way towards his phone, thrown carelessly on the couch. He heard Jeongin suppress a sigh behind him, but he wouldn't budge on this. This was why. He knew this would happen.

Minho was splayed on the couch next to Chan's phone.

"Ah, ahjussi."

"Yes, Lino-yah?"

Minho blinked slowly up at Chan, who snorted in response.

"I think I heard your knees creaking back there." Minho smirked.

"Thanks."

"Did they wear you out?"

Chan blinked.

"Huh?"

"Is that why you're so tired?"

Minho wasn't even properly looking at him, eyes casting around the room.

"Hyung," Jeongin materialized by his side, "Can you help me with this move?"

Chan's confusion was written on his face, he was sure.

"Sure." Minho answered, his face impassive, and walked with Jeongin to the front of the room, closer to the mirrors. Chan stood there for a long moment, staring at nothing in particular, until suddenly Changbin nudged him with his shoulder. He shook himself out of his daze, turning to look at Changbin.

"Studio time later today?"

Chan nodded, taking a seat on the couch to the left of where Minho rested just a second ago.

"There's something I wanna work on, for the next album maybe," Chan thumbed open his phone, opening his Mail app.

"Is that the one I heard already?"

"No, I haven't shown you yet. It's pretty new."

Changbin made a noise of interest.

"Me and Jisungie have also been working on something. Though, it might take us a while to polish it."

Chan nodded, going through his emails and taking the chance to answer ones that didn't demand too much thought.

Their title song started blaring out of the speakers, signaling their return to practice.

"Hyung, this is really good."

"Yeah? You think so?" Chan looked at Jisung, reading his expression. He seemed genuine, which was a relief.

"I really like this vibe. Feels like something we haven't really done before." Changbin added, and Chan's chest filled with pride. His face broke out into an uncontrollable smile, and he shook his leg to expel the excess energy.

"Good, that's good. That makes me happy." He clicked out of the window and turned fully to the other two. "Bin said you wanted to show me something you were working on?"

"Oh, yeah," Jisung pulled out his phone, evidently looking for some lyrics. Changbin scooted towards the desk, on the hunt for files.

The door opened, and Jeongin's head peeked in.

"Jeongin-ah?" Jisung quirked an eyebrow.

"Am I interrupting?"

"No, it's fine. I thought you were going home?"

"Ah," Jeongin looked away, embarrassed, "I forgot I had a vocal lesson later. Would be more comfortable to just stay here."

"Oh, well sure."

"You can tell us what you think of this, while you're here," Changbin finally found what he was looking for, and loaded it into cubase.

Chan, for his part, shot a narrow-eyed stare at Jeongin, who looked literally anywhere else. The little shit thought he was being slick, huh?

Chan would be annoyed if it wasn't so cute.

As it was, he rolled his eyes and focused back on their song.

Changbin played it, and Jisung started singing over the music, Changbin chiming in with his rap verse then yielding back to Jisung. Chan never failed to be amazed at the way the two of them flowed off of each other, like they were born to do this together.

He must've gotten too starry eyed, because he forgot to notice when they finished.

"Yah, hyung," Changbin waved in front of his face, and Chan blinked back into awareness.

"It's really good. I think you should make a guide."

Changbin and Jisung looked at each other.

"What, really?" Jisung's eyebrows climbed to his hairline. Chan nodded.

"Actually," he turned to Jeongin, who was watching them half-heartedly, "Why don't you record this guide, Jeonginnie? Since you're already here and everything." He smirked.

Jeongin sputtered for a moment.

"Are you sure? Wouldn't it be better if Jisung-hyung and Changbin-hyung did it? They wrote the song..."

"What do you think, guys?"

"Sure, I don't see why not," Changbin shrugged.

"Aw, maknae-ya, are you shy?" Jisung cooed, which had Jeongin rolling his eyes and bolting upwards, heading to the chair next to Chan as he set up a mini recording booth.

It went well, and quickly - Jeongin was always receptive to instruction, and his voice was steady as he glided over the notes Jisung kept changing on the fly. Rapping ended up being a challenge for another day, as he had to get to his lesson, but Chan was overall pleased. Aside from wanting to put Jeongin on the spot as a bit of payback for the hovering, it turned out actually productive.

"How was your trip, by the way?" Changbin asked as Chan toyed with the recording.

"It was fine. The usual. I don't think anything will come of it, though."

"Mm. You know, Jeongin seemed really worried about you when you were gone."

"Really? Did he say anything?"

"No, he actually wouldn't say anything at all. He just kept opening his chat with you and then closing out of it."

"Hyung's just nosy, ignore him," Jisung rolled his eyes.

"Yah!"

Changbin grabbed a nearby pillow and shoved it in Jisung's face, who instantly started pleading for mercy. Chan snickered.

"What even happened? If you don't mind me asking." Jisung asked from within the shield of his arms over his head.

"It was nothing. Just a... misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding?" Changbin frowned. "I don't think he'd be that upset over a misunderstanding."

"Come on, it's all sorted now, what does it matter," Jisung insisted.

"It really is fine, Bin. I appreciate it, but there's nothing to worry about." He gave his most convincing smile. Changbin studied him for a moment, then tilted his head and turned back to the monitor, as if to say I've done what I can.

Chan figured Jeongin would leave it alone after that first day.

He was wrong.

Suddenly, Jeongin wanted to join him on his workouts. Every single morning he'd get up at the ass crack of dawn, yawning and grumbling about the hour, and accompany Chan to the gym. Suddenly he was taking an interest in Chan's routine - what his workout schedule was like, which devices did he prefer to use, how much weight did he lift on each one. He insisted on spotting Chan whenever he thought he needed it, and when he didn't, he'd stare at him like a slightly less sparkly and distinctly more Korean Edward Cullen.

It wasn't even limited to the gym. Jeongin's schedule magically cleared up enough for him to somehow always be watching Chan in one way or another. Accompanying him to the studio, joining him for lunch, sharing a car. Not that Chan didn't like the company, but the staring and hovering was starting to be a little much, even if his omega insisted otherwise.

This morning was no different - Chan woke up, put on his scent blockers, hissed a little at the by now familiar sting, told himself he'd get it checked out soon, and came out of the bathroom to an incredibly disgruntled and unbearably adorable Jeongin who brushed past him to get ready.

By the time they got to the gym they were both more awake, at least enough to not zone out during their exercises. Jeongin was still doing his stalker impression, watching Chan like he might disappear if he looked away. But then, as Chan straightened up after an exercise and went to take Jeongin's place, like they were used to, he swore he heard a little sniff.

At first, Chan was sure he was imagining things. Surely, he was just sleep deprived, maybe a little light-headed from the exercise. The second time it happened - a coincidence, surely. The third time, he chalked it up to Jeongin suffering from the gym's aircon.

By the fifth time Chan was beginning to think he was going crazy.

"Do I stink or something?" He whipped around, catching Jeongin in the act, head slightly tilted as if trying to scent the air.

"No," Jeongin pouted, crossing his arms. Was Jeongin upset ? Why the fuck was Jeongin upset ?

"What- do you want me to?" Chan's confusion was so evident he heard it in his own voice.

"No!" Jeongin's face scrunched up in disgust. "I'm just curious."

"About what?!"

"I wanna know what you smell like," Jeongin's pout blew past slightly cute straight into heart-melting territory. Chan's fingers twitched.

Then Jeongin's words registered.

"Oh," He blinked. Instinctively, one of his hands went to the back of his neck, scratching idly at an itch that suddenly made itself known. "Well, I can't help you there. I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"Well, I can't exactly smell myself."

"Obviously not, but did no one ever tell you?"

A dull stab in Chan's stomach.

"And who exactly would tell me?"

Jeongin's eyebrows raised in shock.

"Oh... When you said nobody..."

Chan shrugged. Jeongin's face was slowly morphing into something vaguely resembling pity, and a bitter taste filled Chan's mouth.

"It's fine."

"It's n-"

"I said it's fine, so it's fine , leave it." He snapped, then immediately screwed his eyes shut in regret. Why did he always have to lash out? So stupid .

"Can... can I scent you?" Jeongin mumbled. Chan's eyes snapped open. His omega preened, urging him to bare his neck, to step closer to Jeongin. The thought of Jeongin's lips on his scent gland sprung into his mind, making blood rush in his ears. He shook himself, shoving the thoughts away.

"No."

He looked away before he could catch Jeongin's dejected pout.

As Chan has almost gotten used to by now, Jeongin followed him to the studio. Chan planned to work on a song with Hyunjin, who, in his words, was struck by inspiration . Who was Chan to argue with inspiration?

They met at Chan's regular studio, Hyunjin already there, scrolling on his phone and chewing on the poor straw attached to his iced americano. He was bare faced, his hair black and shiny, his long fingers cradling the phone in a way that made an ugly part of Chan almost jealous.

"Hi," Hyunjin drawled, eyes barely looking up to meet them, then doing a double take when he saw Jeongin. "Jeongin-ah!" He grinned, his voice taking on the usual gremlin-ish quality it did whenever he wanted to annoy Jeongin. He shot up out of his chair and nearly tackled Jeongin, ruffling his hair and pressing his nose to it, sniffing loudly and obnoxiously.

"Hi, hyung," Jeongin resigned himself to the assault. Chan's smile was surely too fond for his own good. He decided to have some mercy on Jeongin anyway.

"Are we going to work on the song, Hyunjinnie?"

"Yes!" Hyunjin jumped with excitement before scrambling back into his chair and rummaging around a backpack Chan hadn't seen before, pulling out one of his many notebooks. Jeongin settled into the couch behind them.

"So look, I had this idea - the lyrics aren't really clicking for me yet, but I have this vibe I really wanna do."

Chan scanned over the page, then started nodding.

"I think I get it, yeah."

"It's kinda like - hold on," Hyunjin opened the gallery on his phone and started scrolling, until he found what he was looking for; a picture of one of his paintings. Chan looked at it, his brow furrowing. He hummed, thinking.

"That's... complex."

"You understand though, right?"

"I think so. Like... love, and secrets, and safety even though you're still shielding yourself from the other person." Chan mused. When Hyunjin stayed silent for too long, Chan glanced up at him, only to find him staring intently back at Chan. He flushed. "What?"

Hyunjin blinked rapidly, looking away.

"Nothing. So do you have something in mind?"

"Let me try something..."

Chan booted up his computer and got to work.

Chan tended to be somewhat single-mindedly focused when he was composing. He tuned most other things out, only vaguely aware of Hyunjin to his right and Jeongin behind him. He listened to the track one more time, fully aware it was not nearly finished, and decided he wanted Hyunjin's opinion on it. He took off his headphones and offered them to Hyunjin, who put them on over just one ear.

He listened intently, nodding his head and mouthing lyrics.

"What do you think?" Chan bit his lip.

"Maybe... more acoustic guitar? I want it to be kind of soft, in a way."

Chan hummed, agreeing with the sentiment. Hyunjin took off the headphones, twisting the cable around his finger. Chan got up and stretched, and only then noticed Jeongin wasn't in the room.

"Where did Jeongin go?"

"Bathroom."

Chan hummed, sinking back into his chair. For some reason that answer settled something in his chest, knowing that Jeongin didn't just decide to dip without saying goodbye.

"Speaking of which... Why exactly is he following you around like a lost puppy?"

Play dumb, Chris .

"He is?"

Chan internally winced.

"You haven't noticed?" Hyunjin grinned.

"Not... really?" Chan tried, but Hyunjin saw right through him.

"Come on , hyung, tell me what's up!" He shoved Chan playfully. "Are you hooking up or something?"

"No?" Chan squeaked, ears burning. "Why would we? What?" His stupid voice kept squeaking. Hyunjin burst into laughter, his whole body shaking with it, his head thrown back. The column of his neck was long and thin, his skin perfectly tan even under the fluorescent lights. Chan kind of wanted to bite him. God, why did he have to be so attractive doing literally anything?

"Why else would he be following you around like that?"

"I don't know!" Chan's shoulders hiked up to his ears. "Ask him, not me!"

"I did." Hyunjin huffed. "He just said something weird and vague that didn't answer anything and mostly just pissed Minho-hyung off."

"Minho was there too?" Chan's heart thudded, god knows why. Hyunjin hummed affirmatively.

"Anyway, should we get back to this? I have to go in half an hour."

"Sure."

If Chan's voice was a little strained, that was his own business.

Jeongin never ended up rejoining him, probably off to a schedule for once. Chan batted his disappointment away. On his way out of the building, he met Minho coming in. His lips instinctively curled into a smile at the sight of him, even as Minho's face stayed impassive.

"You heading in?" Chan asked, uselessly. Minho nodded anyway, because he was nice like that.

"Hyunjinnie told me you were working on a song."

Chan nodded, bouncing on his heels a little to shake off the pent up energy after hours sitting down. Unfortunately for his heart, Minho's face was soft and a little puffy, making him seem more kittenish. Really, they were all beginning to be bad for Chan's health.

"He also told me Jeongin came with you."

Chan hummed, tilting his head.

"You're hanging out with him a lot lately."

"Well, we do live together."

Minho sent him a withering glare. Chan swallowed and shifted in place, firmly ignoring the things that look did to his insides.

"I guess I am, yeah. More like he's hanging out with me." He shrugged.

"I see."

Chan didn't. What was there to see? It would be so very nice if Minho let him in on his revelation. But, there were limits to Minho's kindness. He offered a quick goodbye and marched into the building.

Chan liked practice. Especially when it was just the eight of them. After years of having to pull them together, to stop them goofing off because they couldn't afford to, he was finally able to just enjoy their time together, trusting that they wanted everything to be perfect just as much, if not more, than he does.

Minho was leading them through the choreography with his usual mix of strict and playful, mastering it in a way Chan had always envied.

His body ached, but he relished it. He'd always associated that pain with accomplishment, the feeling of a job well done. On the other side of the room, he caught Jisung and Hyunjin messing around, exchanging sentences that must've made sense with the context of whatever new bit they were doing, but were absolutely indecipherable to Chan. Fondness bloomed in his chest, and a foolish part of him wished he could go over there and press himself between them, and just exist in the warmth they shared.

Minho called for a break, beckoning Felix and Jisung closer to polish a part of the choreography. Chan slumped on the couch, allowing his muscles a brief respite. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Minho guiding the other two through their part, eyes darting between them and checking every move. He didn't know what he'd do without Minho, honestly.

Chan reached for his phone, content to scroll and let his mind wander for a bit. Before he could decide which app to open, Minho plopped down next to him, sighing heavily.

Chan waited patiently for him to say something.

His knee bounced, expelling energy.

He unlocked his phone, opening up Twitter.

"I bought lamb chops." Minho announced.

Chan gasped, phone forgotten.

"Are you gonna grill them today?"

Minho hummed.

"Wah, it's been so long since I've had lamb chops... That sounds so good..." Chan almost salivated.

"You can come over if you want."

"Aigoo, Minho-yah is so nice to me!" Chan wrapped his arms around Minho, squeezing and shaking him softly. Minho rolled his eyes, but Chan saw his ears turn just slightly redder.

"Hyung, can I also come?" Jeongin piped in, having materialized out of nowhere.

"Mm, sure," Minho sounded impassive, but he sent Jeongin a look that was somewhere in the vicinity of upset. Chan was puzzled. Minho wasn't one to beat around the bush when something was bothering him, especially if it was between the members. He looked at Jeongin, but his face betrayed nothing that would tell Chan what was going on. Chan shook himself. He decided he'd give them space to handle their own issues, and he was going to stick to that decision.

His gums ached.
"Let's get back to practice, everyone."

Dinner with Minho was a surprisingly awkward affair. After practice, Minho asked that they go shower instead of coming straight away, which was fine, Chan supposed, if unusual. Then when they got there, Minho was dressed... well, not nicely , per se, but not like his usual oversized T-shirt and bermuda shorts ensemble. He must've washed off his scent blockers, because as soon as he opened the door, Chan got a delightful breath of freshwater, with just the tiniest hints of pine. Jeongin's scent seemed to strengthen in response, fresh and earthy. It was only slightly overwhelming, and Chan stumbled a little as he walked through the door. He did not appreciate the way Jeongin huffed at him for it.

"Where's Jisungie?" He looked around the apartment.

"Out."

"Oh. Huh." Chan kind of assumed Jisung would be there, what with the two of them both being homebodies and preferring the company of each other to most other people's. Minho sent Jeongin a dirty look, and Chan's eyebrows furrowed. What was up with the two of them? If they were going to keep this up he might just have to intervene. Make pack happy , his omega perked up, which was enough of a reason to shut down that idea immediately.

"Where are the plates again?" He asked, itching for something to distract him.

Minho directed them to the cupboards and busied himself with preparing the meat. Chan tried approaching to help once the table was set, but was firmly shooed away.

"There's also mashed potatoes on the stove." Minho gestured to a large pot, and Chan's mouth watered. He wasn't even sure when was the last time he'd had homemade mashed potatoes.

"Wow, Minho-hyung, everything looks amazing!"

"Seriously, you're so good at this," Chan complimented, bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation of delicious food.

Minho served them individually, then sat down with his own plate, looking at Chan expectantly.

"Eat."

Didn't need to hold a gun to Chan's head. He scooped a spoonful of mashed potatoes and popped it into his mouth. His reaction was instant, and completely involuntary.

"Mm!" His eyes closed, his eyebrows furrowed, and he leaned back in his chair, the flavors blooming on his tongue. "Woah." He blinked his eyes open, looking at Minho incredulously. "Minho-yah. This is incredible."

Minho's eyes were wide, a gentle flush settling high on his cheeks. He shifted in his chair, then nodded his thanks, taking a bite for himself. Chan looked to Jeongin, wanting to share his excitement, but Jeongin was staring daggers at Minho.

Chan's mouth twisted, the taste on his tongue turning sour, almost matching the rising note of cherry in Jeongin's scent.

"Try the meat." Minho prodded, and Chan refocused on the meal.

"Wah! This is crazy!" Chan swallowed, and the smoky flavor lingered in his mouth, the meat so soft and tender it genuinely just melted on his tongue. It just so happened to pair mouth-wateringly well with the rising pine in Minho's scent, and somehow even with Jeongin's.

"Eat," Minho's lips twitched into a smile, "There's more."

"Thank you, hyung! This is seriously delicious." Jeongin munched on his food happily enough, but his gaze was hard.

Minho's smile suddenly dropped, and he focused back on his food.

Chan was confused, and frankly, a little upset. Whatever they were fighting about was clearly more than just a disagreement if it had them acting like this. He wanted them to enjoy the food and each other's company, not to be an unwitting part of some passive aggressive battle. It was on the tip of his tongue - just a simple what's wrong , or a what can hyung do to help , but he swallowed it down with the mashed potatoes. He had to believe they could fix it, even if he felt the food settle like lead in his stomach, and his omega pacing around restlessly in his chest.

Most hysterically of all, there was a part of him that was convinced that if he just bared his neck and cuddled up to the two of them, everything would be solved. But those were just his own selfish desires.

They didn't talk much after that. Chan, because he was trying to focus on the food instead of on the charged atmosphere; Minho and Jeongin, Chan had no idea. Jeongin tried to strike up a conversation a couple of times, but he was firmly shut down by Minho's single worded answers.

The most talking Minho did was when they were headed out. He suggested they take some of the leftovers home, though even then he talked mostly to Chan.

"Really? It's so good though, and you worked so hard on it. Are you sure, Minho-yah?"

Minho shrugged, but held out a huge tupperware with packed food anyway.

He walked them to the door and sent them off with a simple don't die on the way.

The weather outside was pleasant, the sun having gone down enough that the day's heat was no longer oppressive on their walk home. He almost forgot about the unpleasantness of dinner.

"Hyung, when did you present?"

Chan sputtered.

"That's a bit out of nowhere, Innie."

"I'm curious."

Chan was at a loss. Wouldn't knowing all of this just make it harder to deal with? Wasn't it easier to just pretend nothing had changed?

Jeongin looked at him expectantly. Chan sighed.

"Well... Probably when I was around 16, I think."

"That long ago?"

"Yah!" Chan played at being offended, but the teasing, at least, was familiar, which was a comfort of its own. Jeongin smiled back at him.

"That was... Were you at the dorms at the company?"

"Mm-hm."

"Then how..."

"It was right after a lot of people were cut. I was just lucky that I was alone."

Jeongin's expression soured slightly, though Chan could see he was valiantly trying to hide it. They reached their apartment, Jeongin walking in first and Chan closing the door behind them.

"Hyung, does Siwoo-hyung..." Jeongin faltered, his face reddening. Chan frowned, confused. "You know..." Jeongin waved his hand around, as if that explained anything.

"Does Siwoo-hyung...?" He asked, lost. Jeongin's face only got redder in response, which was somehow what made the question click. He instantly recoiled. "No! God, no, what the fuck, Innie?!" He could feel his own face reddening now, both with embarrassment and a little bit of disgust. He liked Siwoo well enough as a manager, but to think of him helping with Chan's heats? Eugh .

"I was just wondering!"

Chan just made a noise of disgust, toeing off his shoes and aligning them neatly.

"So, did you really never have anyone help? All this time?" Jeongin's voice turned soft. Chan shrugged.

"Not much I could do about it."

Jeongin's face did something complicated that Chan couldn't parse. His scent, too, was odd. Part sour with displeasure, part sweet and full and all ripe cherry. He fidgeted in place, fighting some unseen battle.

"Are you okay?" Chan stepped closer, unsure.

"Can I please scent you?" Jeongin blurted. "It would make me feel better," He explained. Chan shivered slightly. A part of him wanted so strongly to just give in, relishing in the fact that Jeongin clearly wanted this. He thought about being in Minho's apartment barely an hour ago and wanting to do the very same thing. His instincts urged him to do it, and in his heart he knew it would feel good - he loved Jeongin's scent. He'd nearly drowned himself in it during his heat.

But... It would be too much. Too close to something Chan could never really have.

"Jeongin-ah..."

"I know you're doing okay now, and you don't want me to talk about it. I just, I need..." He trailed off. Chan's chest burned, his omega chanting Alpha wants to comfort me, alpha cares, over and over and over again. He rubbed at his breastbone, willing himself to calm down.

"I'm sorry," Chan shook his head. Jeongin nodded, slightly deflated.

"Okay. I get it, hyung."

Chan somehow doubted he did. Jeongin shuffled towards the couch, then looked at him expectantly. Right - there was a show they were watching together. Chan took a deep breath and sat down next to Jeongin.

Chan studied himself in the mirror, eyeing the makeup the artist placed on his face appreciatively. The concept for their music video was fun, something different, again, from anything they've done before.

Chan was a little giddy with it, he'll admit. Though he kind of said that every time, this one was his favorite they've ever done.

He tapped his fingers idly on the armrests of his chair, waiting patiently for the make-up artist to pick out the brush and product she needed. His hair still needed styling, but it was minimal - he'd be wearing a hat for the majority of this one, which he found himself somewhat grateful for.

Out of the corner of his eye, like some weird deja-vu, he saw Jisung draped over Minho's lap, and Jeongin settling in a chair next to him. Except this time, Jeongin wasn't burying his head in his phone, but instead sneaking very conspicuous glances in Chan's direction every few minutes. Chan's focus returned to the make-up artist as she asked him to look up, then drew precise strokes under his eyes.

He heard Jeongin's chair squeaking to his left, which usually meant squirming. Not uncommon in a make-up chair.

Chan allowed himself to look down when the make-up artist backed away.

He could hear Changbin silently counting somewhere, probably working out.

The make-up artist came back, this time with a wider brush and an open vial of lipgloss. Chan relaxed his mouth instinctively.

At the first touch of the brush to his lips, he heard something he desperately did not want to believe was an aborted growl from Jeongin's direction. Even worse, his omega perked up in interest at the display.

His eyes snapped to Jeongin, who looked torn between embarrassment and indignation. Chan raised his eyebrows in a silent question, but Jeongin looked away, shoulders tense.

Hyunjin chose that moment to stroll by behind them, draping himself over Jeongin's back dramatically, which seemed to distract him for the time being.

"Chan-ssi," the make-up artist looked somewhere below his face. "Your neck... maybe we should use a choker or a turtleneck?" Her eyebrows furrowed. Chan leaned over to take a look in the mirror in front of him, and sure enough, the redness around his scent gland came back full force. Shit, he should really get that checked out.

"You can't cover it with makeup?"

The artist sucked in a breath through her teeth.

"If it's your skin, makeup could make it worse. I think it would be better to cover it."

Chan mulled it over. Jeongin's fingers clenched the armrest of his chair.

"Yeah, okay."

The artist stepped away, presumably to get the choker. Jeongin huffed.

"What happened to your neck?" Minho appeared behind him, making him jump.

"Nothing, just a rash."

Minho hummed, his eyes locked on the redness. Jeongin squirmed louder to his left, and both he and Minho whipped around to look at him. Jeongin, however, looked only at Minho, something concerningly similar to a challenge in his eyes.

Chan's pulse quickened. He had no idea what the fuck was happening but his gut was telling him it was not good.

He glanced at Minho, whose eyes were stormy, jaw clenched.

Oh god. That look was not conducive to a productive day of filming. That look meant trouble. It also had the unfortunate effect of being distractingly hot.

Chan glanced back at Jeongin. His eyes were narrowed, chin tilted up. Definitely a challenge.

"Jeongin," he warned, but Minho placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed . Chan's knees went a little weak.

"Stay out of this, hyung." Minho murmured, eyes still locked on Jeongin. Chan swallowed, feeling somehow trapped. His eyes darted between the two of them. He could almost feel the air thicken around them, his body tensing up with anticipation - of a fight, or something else, he didn't even know. Most concerning of all, his body didn't seem to get the memo that this was very bad news , and instead diverted a frankly disturbing amount of blood south. He couldn't even fully blame himself - Minho and Jeongin were both already inhumanly attractive. Apparently seeing them angry made his stupid brain start to melt out of his stupid ears.

"Enjoying the show?" Seungmin whispered into his ear.

"Fuck!" He jumped, effectively snapping the tension. Minho backed away, and Jeongin swiveled forward in his chair. "Jesus, Seungmin."

"No, I get it. Iyen's sexy when he's angry."

"What are you talking about?" Chan took a deep breath, willing his heart to calm down. Seungmin snickered and sauntered away. Finally, the make-up artist returned with the choker.

They were separated into small groups. They'd all gather on the same set to record the chorus, but that would be later in the day, which gave Minho and Jeongin enough time to settle, Chan hoped. At least, Chan hoped they would. He had no way of knowing or controlling it - they were both whisked off to different sets, neither of them with him.

The director went over the concept with him and Hyunjin one more time, and Chan mentally prepared himself to be filmed.

He turned to Hyunjin when he heard him snickering.

"Your puppy's back," Hyunjin jerked his chin forward, and Chan's gaze followed, landing on Jeongin, who immediately jumped and tried to disappear behind equipment, only to trip and nearly eat shit.

Chan sighed.

The director called for their attention, and Chan did his best to clear his mind and focus.

Jeongin thankfully didn't linger for long, evidently being called to film his own sequences. Chan managed to almost forget about the whole thing, until they had to do the group scene.

They arranged themselves into formation, Minho next to Chan on the rightmost side, Jeongin on the leftmost. The director explained the concept once more, and Chan tried to stay focused, he really did, but he could feel Jeongin's stare like pin pricks on his neck. Except, when he turned to look at him, Jeongin was looking at the director, acting innocent.

Chan's patience was running thin.

The director stepped away, turning to talk to the staff. Minho stepped closer to Chan, nudging his shoulder with his own. It helped relax Chan, if only a fraction, until he saw Minho glowering at Jeongin, who looked absolutely furious.

So much for settling down. Chan frowned, unsure what to do. He was mostly confused. Where was this coming from? Why were they suddenly at each other's throats like this?

Minho pressed even closer to Chan, as if to taunt Jeongin, but Chan stepped away, shooting a disapproving look at Minho, who at least had enough shame to look somewhat contrite. Jeongin, on the other hand, practically had sparks shooting out of his eyes.

Chan glanced at the staff. They seemed deep in discussion, which meant he could steal a few minutes. He needed to put an end to all this before it got well and truly out of hand.

He marched over to Jeongin, grasping him by the elbow and leading him to as secluded a corner as he could find on the set.

"Okay, what the hell is up with you?" he demanded, turning to face Jeongin.

"Nothing, what?" Jeongin stuttered, eyes flittering about the room.

"Iyen. You've been following me around for days, you keep looking for me and staring at me, and now you're pissed at Lino for, what, looking at me? What the hell is going on?"

Jeongin's mouth clamped shut. His ears reddened, the many layers of makeup on his face hiding what were surely pinked cheeks. He chewed on his lip, as if mulling over what to say. Chan raised his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.

"It's... It's my instincts, hyung, I can't help it." Jeongin refused to meet Chan's eyes, his shoulders slumped.

"Your instincts?" Chan sighed. Guilt twisted in his chest, but he couldn't make Jeongin un-know that he was an omega. He'd done all he could to keep things normal. Jeongin would have to do the same. "Iyen, you're not a pup. Control your instincts."

"You're right, hyung, I'm sorry."

"It's not me you should be apologizing to, it's Minho."

Jeongin nodded, staring at his own feet. He shuffled miserably, clearly upset at having been scolded.

"Aish, come here," Chan pulled him into a hug, which for once Jeongin didn't protest.

Chan didn't end up hearing what Jeongin told Minho, but the rest of the shoot was blissfully smooth.

Chan used to have this recurring dream when he had just gotten to Korea for the first time. He attributed it to stress, or homesickness, or a new environment. It came and went - there were times when he dreamt it almost every day, and other times when months would go by without it. His horrible sleep schedule mostly kept it at bay, as it did with all dreams, but sometimes even that didn't prevent it from surfacing.

It always started the same:

He was on a beach back home in Australia, the sun warmly caressing his upturned face. Berry had her head in his lap, and the only sound was the crashing of the waves against the shore. For a moment, there was no urgency, nowhere to go - only the sun, and the sand between his toes, and Berry's fluffy head.

Then he got up, and ran to the water. The waves were terrifyingly high, but he was smiling. Berry barked behind him, in the same spot he just left. He looked back at her. She was jumping around, running left and right, but couldn't reach him. He wanted to go back, to hug her just one more time, feel her lick his chin, but instead, he raised his hand and waved.

Then he was engulfed in water. He never felt like he was suffocating, in the dream, but the ocean battered him around like the shell fragments on the seafloor. He tumbled and rolled, thrown from side to side, his nostrils filled with water, yet breathing still. Smiling still.

At some point, the ocean would calm. He'd be suspended in the depths - no floor beneath him, no surface above him. Everything around him had a strange blue tint, though he could see no source of light to make sense of it all.

Sometimes he woke up as soon as the waves were done with him, battered and bruised, having somehow managed to bang his limbs on any nearby surface in his sleep.

Other times, he would spend what felt like eternities in the ocean's belly. He would wake up, but feel still asleep, Berry's barks echoing in his ears, his body stiff and waterlogged.

Their schedules were as packed as they could get. The new album came out in less than 24 hours, and they had what felt like a million events to prepare for. Chan was jittery all over, excited and stressed and about ready to burst out of his skin. His reflection in the practice room mirror looked pale and sleep deprived. The faint taste of saltwater lingered no matter how many energy drinks he downed.

Minho looked... disgruntled. Like a cat whose fur was brushed the wrong way. Jeongin wasn't much better, avoiding Minho's gaze and giving him a wide berth. Apparently whatever resolution allowed them to finish the music video shoot peacefully didn't extend past it.

Chan reached up to scratch at his neck, then hissed at the burn.

Apparently, it was an allergy to his scent blockers, because the universe wanted to punish him. The doctor recommended letting his skin rest and switching to weaker ones. He asked for some anti-allergy meds and kept on applying the same scent blockers.

He hissed again as the pain sharpened, only then realizing he'd been scratching at the rash while lost in thought. Something deeply buried in his brain sneered that he deserved it, that it was the least he should suffer for failing his pack. He stuffed it down and pushed through.

It was always easy to lose hours when they practiced together. Between jokes and exhaustion and striving for perfection, the day was nearly done before they knew it. Chan gratefully sunk into the sleek couch of his and Jeongin's living room as soon as they got home. Jeongin had already claimed dibs on showering first on the ride back home, so Chan just allowed himself to relax.

"Hyung," Jeongin called. When he didn't continue, Chan hummed. "Your... rash. Are you sure it's okay? It... seems like it's getting worse."

Chan sighed. He thought of hiding what it was, then thought of telling Jeongin, then considered weighing each and every scenario his mind could conjure up against another, then he realized he was much too tired. Jeongin would probably be able to tell Chan was lying anyway.

"It's an allergy." He confessed.

"To what?"

"My scent blockers."

Jeongin thought for a moment.

"What if you... Just when we're at home. Obviously you can't just stop using them completely, but when it's just the two of us. I promise I won't be weird about it."

Chan snorted. Despite what he imagined, Jeongin's reaction actually calmed him down. If not for the fear absolutely paralyzing him, it even seemed like a somewhat reasonable suggestion. Then again, he had no way of knowing how Jeongin would react to his scent. He resolutely ignored his omega purring at the thought of Jeongin scenting him, maybe covering Chan's scent with his own, maybe growling at anyone who would come near Chan to keep him safe.

"I don't know, Jeongin-ah..."

"Just- think about it. Please?"

"Okay."

The album had been out for all of five hours.

Chan had been glued to his phone for four. He kept switching between Instagram, Twitter, and Bubble, reading every single post and message about the new album. The vast majority was positive. Some of it... wasn't.

He loved the tracks. Every single one of them he absolutely adored. The members were perfect, their voices better than ever before.

Apparently not everyone agreed.

There was a part of him that got disproportionately mad at those people, at the gall they had to criticize his kids' hard work and dedication, the blood and sweat they poured into every single thing they did. The same part wanted to hoard all their music to himself, keep the members to himself, keep them all out of hands that didn't appreciate them.

It wasn't everyone, he knew that. He tried to focus on the positives. Even so, he felt like no one truly understood. No one realized just how many takes Minho made until his lines were perfect, or how much practice it took for Seungmin to put so much feeling into the bridge, or how Jisung spent hours bent over his keyboard to write and rewrite and rewrite again. No one could appreciate them like he did. He treasured them so much, it was sometimes hard to share.

Turns out he never did learn how to swallow down his greed.

Chan shook himself. The most important thing now was to focus on rehearsals. They had Music Bank to get ready for, then an award show.

The days passed by in a blur of poor sleep, nerves, and practice. Chan kept hearing waves crashing every time he zoned out.

Minho and Jeongin were still at odds. Chan didn't know what to do anymore.

It felt like he blinked, and they were at KBS studios, getting ready for the first pre-recording of their title song.

They would be on in the early morning, which gave them a few hours to nap. Jisung was sharing a yoga mattress with Felix, and on the other side of the room Seungmin was rolled up as tightly as he could to avoid anyone touching him. Minho was passed out on a couch, and Changbin was snoring in some corner of the room Chan couldn't see. Hyunjin was wrapped around Jeongin, an arm's reach away from where Chan was trying to force himself to sleep.

His neck was absolutely killing him, itching and burning. The allergy pills were far from helping. What's worse, every time he closed his eyes, he felt himself drawn to the same stupid dream, sitting on a beach, his hands buried in warm sand. Every time, he shook himself awake.

He sighed and got up, hoping to calm himself down by taking a walk around the building. Failing that, well, there was always Genshin.

Things somehow got worse when they all woke up. Minho and Jeongin were resolutely ignoring each other. They kept shooting him weird glances, then searching the other out. They were meant to be on in half an hour, and Chan was finding it hard to breathe.

"Chan-hyung," Changbin nudged him. They were on the couch, Chan's eyes burning from staring at Minho and Jeongin and waiting for them to just fucking talk . "They'll be fine."

"Hm?"

"Minho-hyung and Jeongin. They'll be fine."

"What is even up with them?" Chan gave into his frustration, rubbing his eyes until colors exploded behind his eyelids.

"It's a misunderstanding."

Chan scoffed. He guessed he deserved to be kept in the dark. Karma, or something.

"Seriously, hyung. They'll work it out."

"Before we need to be on stage?"

"No, but you know they won't let it affect the performance."

Chan's nerves weren't settled. He was uncomfortably close to panicking.

"I'm not even worried about the performance." He muttered.

"I know, hyung." Changbin wrapped his arm around Chan's shoulder, and Chan melted into the embrace, grateful and so, so tired.

The performance went smoothly.

It wasn't perfect, but nothing ever was.

Their fans were excited, chanting loud enough to shake the building, and that in itself was enough. It seemed to lift even Minho and Jeongin's spirits, which gave Chan a little bit of hope.

On their way home, Chan's phone chimed.

Han: hyung, do you wanna get a drink tonight

Chan contemplated. He looked over at Jeongin, who was fighting a losing battle against sleep.

You: Just us?

It was a fair assumption. Otherwise he would've written in the group chat.

Han: yeah. you can come over to our place, minho-hyung is heading out

Chan took stock of how he was feeling. He was exhausted, strung out, and about ready to collapse. He was also a little pissed at Jeongin, and at Minho for that matter. A drink actually sounded like exactly what he needed.

You: Sure. Text me when

He received an affirmative cow sticker in response.

Chan cradled his glass of cider. It was barely alcoholic, but it was more than enough for Chan, and besides, he hated the taste of beer.

"Everyone seems to love your new song, Hannie."

"That's nice," Jisung stretched noisily. "I knew you'd do a good job, hyung."

"It's your song."

"Yeah, but you directed it."

Chan hummed.

"Why did you want me to direct it?"

Jisung glanced at him for a moment and looked away.

"I wrote it about you, hyung."

Chan blinked.

That song?

About him ?

"Or, well, with you in mind."

"But it's so..."

"It is, isn't it?" Jisung huffed a laugh, though Chan didn't find it particularly funny. The song touched him, that much was true. He could empathize with feeling alone, distancing himself, waiting for someone else to reach out to him - but he figured everyone could. He thought Jisung was writing from his own experiences, or to offer some comfort to whoever listened to the song, but - for it to be about Chan ?

Was that what Jisung saw when he looked at him?

Chan's throat constricted. This was just the cherry on top of his shitty day.

"Since the moment we met you, you were always this dependable hyung. We could always rely on you, always trust you with - fuck, I dunno, everything? You carry so much, all the time. I guess there's a part of me that wishes that sometimes you'd let us carry a little bit of it for you."

"I thought I did." Chan rasped.

Jisung was silent. Chan wasn't sure what he was feeling. His eyes stung, but there were no tears. What else could he do? He no longer works on every single track, he relegates decisions to other members, lets them do most of the entertaining on shoots. He doesn't even try to help them resolve their fights anymore, or solve problems for them, even though his tongue practically burns with the urge to do so whenever they complain about something. Looking at Jeongin and Minho for the past couple of weeks has been actively killing him, and still he barely interfered.

"I don't mean with work, hyung." Jisung mumbled. "I don't even know what I mean. It's just, sometimes I look at you, and it's like there's a mountain on your back, and whatever I try to do, it never gets any lighter."

Chan swallowed, his throat clicking. He felt - guilty. No way around it. Jisung should never have to feel like he needs to help him, like he needs to shoulder some burden for Chan. But that's the root of the issue, isn't it? That Chan feels that way in the first place. That he takes responsibility for all of their feelings.

But how could he not? They were the most important people he knew. How could he not want to protect them, be the one they can lean on? How could he not want them to see him as strong, unshakeable?

It was enough that they've gotten used to his shortcomings - that they work around them, that they understand. He couldn't bring himself to burden them any more. Couldn't bear to tell them just how weak he was, show them just how much he depends on them, how much he craves their attention, their closeness, just - them.

"I'm sorry, Jisung-ah," He whispered, but Jisung only snored. Chan couldn't blame him. Today was draining for all of them.

He took a deep breath and placed his glass on the table. That was as good a sign as any for him to go back home.

Jeongin had been waiting up for him, apparently. Chan froze in the doorway to the apartment. It was so unbelievably late, especially considering their early start today.

"Why are you up?"

"I'm sorry, hyung."

"What?" Chan stepped closer, barely stifled panic coloring his voice.

"I'm sorry for how I've been acting, for making Minho-hyung mad, for not listening to what you said to me and for stressing you out. I'm sorry."

Jeongin looked so small like this, shoulders hunched, his eyes glassy, as if he was seconds away from crying. Chan found himself hugging him without knowing how he got there.

"It's okay, it's okay, hyung forgives you. Of course I forgive you. You have nothing to be sorry for," He rambled, even though he knew the apology was very much needed. He couldn't help it - his heart hurt at seeing Jeongin like that.

"No, I do," Jeongin insisted into his neck. "I've been making you so tense and worried and all I wanted was to keep you safe and all I did was mess it up, I'm sorry."

Chan pulled back, eyes darting between Jeongin's. To keep you safe . Chan's heart thumped in his chest. God, he was an idiot. He finally understood why Jeongin has been so weird about everything - he was probably scared that someone, that Minho would somehow find out.

He should never have had to carry Chan's secret.

Maybe... maybe it shouldn't have been a secret in the first place.

"I forgive you," He repeated, shaking Jeongin's shoulders a bit, hoping to get it through his head.

Jeongin's gaze fell, and Chan felt him tense under his hands as his eyes widened.

"Hyung, your scent gland."

"Yeah," Chan sighed. It wasn't itching anymore, just straight up burning.

"It- it looks painful."

"It is."

Jeongin's gaze snapped up to meet his own, eyes rounded in shock.

"Hyung, please go wash the scent blockers off. I can go to the other room if you want, I don't need to even smell you at all, just please- "

"Okay, okay," Chan relented. To be fair, it wouldn't have taken much - Jeongin looked genuinely distressed, and the pain really was testing Chan's patience. Besides, with his new revelation, he figured he could trust Jeongin a little more than he gave him credit for.

He made his way to the bathroom, willing his hands to stop shaking.

He stood frozen in front of the sink, the tap running.

All he had to do was wash it off. He did that every day, it wasn't a big deal.

He made an aborted movement towards the water.

Just... wash it off.

His eyes screwed shut.

Just rip the band aid off .

He cupped his hands under the water and splashed his neck, rubbing off the oily substance as gingerly as he could, hissing through his teeth at the sting.

He made his way back to the living room, shirt wet around the collar.

Jeongin turned to look at him, eyes locked on his neck.

"It already looks better," He sighed in relief. Chan's chest warmed. Fuck it all, he liked the fact Jeongin cared for him, omega or no. Jeongin fidgeted, weighing his words. "I know I said I could go to the other room, and I still can, and I'll totally understand if you say no, absolutely no pressure, I just- I think it'll make us both feel better- can I scent you?"

Chan blinked.

His fingers twitched.

He really shouldn't. Right? He shouldn't, it would be crossing a line. It would be taking advantage of Jeongin's kindness, of his understanding.

He let himself imagine it, just for a moment. Imagined doing as Jisung said, sharing the burden. Would it be terrible? Would they become weighed down with it, resent him for it?

A part of him feared Jeongin would just as easily withdraw the comfort he was offering, and where would that leave Chan?

Except that would be cruel. His kids were many things, but never cruel. Jeongin was asking him, again and again, to let him help, to let him ease the burden, just like Jisung. They wanted to help.

Maybe Chan should allow them.

He didn't even know what scenting felt like, but he'd seen the other members do it to each other. It looked like intense cuddling with the added benefit of scent. And god, Chan could use a cuddle right now.

Slowly, he nodded.

Jeongin's whole face lit up.

"Come here," He patted the open space on the couch next to him. Chan approached slowly, carefully, like Jeongin was some feral beast. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, and he focused on taking even breaths. He was a little terrified. This went against every single thing he'd forced himself to believe since he presented.

He sat on the couch, looking nervously at Jeongin.

"Calm down, hyung. I promise it feels really nice."

Chan smiled weakly. It should've felt bad, needing to be comforted by his youngest, but he trusted Jeongin. Maybe a bit too much.

Hesitantly, he tilted his head, offering his neck. Jeongin leaned in slowly, giving Chan time to adjust to his movements. Chan closed his eyes as Jeongin softly nosed at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, making his way up to his scent gland. His hand came up to Chan's arm, grounding and gentle.

Chan's shoulders relaxed, his head tilting further. Something in his chest loosened, melted into a warm puddle.

Jeongin pressed his face more firmly against Chan's neck, his scent starting to push through his own blockers, tart and sour and earthy, and absolutely intoxicating. Chan melted into the couch, and Jeongin followed, his body covering Chan's easily, almost dwarfing him, rubbing his cheek against Chan's and drawing even more of his own scent out.

It was like nothing he'd ever felt before.

It was heady, making him dizzy and jelly-limbed. His thoughts were slippery and aimless. What was he upset about again? Something Jeongin said, or did? It didn't matter anyway, because Jeongin was here with him, pressing so close and so warm, keeping him safe.
"I can't smell you..." Jeongin muttered. Chan's gut clenched, his peace forgotten. Alpha is upset , his omega mewled in distress, and his eyes shot open, searching Jeongin's face.

He pressed back against Jeongin, in apology or an attempt to force his own scent out, he himself didn't know. His thoughts were fuzzy, out of reach - all that mattered was making alpha happy .

"It's okay," Jeongin hushed him, "It's okay, I'm not mad." He petted Chan's side, soothing him. Chan's mind was scattered, panicked. A whine built up in his throat, the thought of disappointing his alpha absolutely devastating . "Hyung, I'm not mad, it's okay, I promise," Jeongin continued to pet him, his eyes getting wider by the second. Alpha is worried, his omega pawed at him as his breaths grew shorter, panic rising in his chest. A distant part of Chan, buried under the blanket of Jeongin's scent, was urging him to snap out of it. He was freaking Jeongin out, and he needed to get himself together.

He shook himself and took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. Slowly, he blinked the haze out of his eyes, his mind gradually clearing.

"I'm fine," He exhaled. "Just zoned out for a second."

Jeongin didn't look like he believed him, his hand still petting Chan's side soothingly. Chan found he didn't mind as much as he probably should've. It felt nice.

"The scent - the doctor said it might take a while to come back, because of how long I've been using blockers."

Jeongin nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer.

"Can I ask you to not put them on tomorrow, hyung? We don't have anywhere to be."

Chan complied more easily than he should have.

"We should both get some sleep, Innie."

Chan forced himself to get up first, knowing if he didn't he'd be tempted to just spend the night there, shielded by Jeongin's weight on him.

For once, he slept dreamlessly.

The fragile peace he'd managed to attain when Jeongin scented him didn't last long. They barely got a moment to breathe over the next week, much less enough time for Jeongin to scent him again, even if Chan wanted him to.

He desperately wanted him to.

It was absolutely terrifying. When Jeongin scented him, for the first time in his life, he felt light as a feather. He didn't know up from down until he wrested control back from his omega. He felt completely untethered.

But, not alone. Not for a moment. He'd never had a doubt that Jeongin had him. That Jeongin would keep him safe.

The dreams came back full force, the ocean battering him around night after night, giving him no relief. The only comfort was that the rash seemed to get better thanks to the nights he spent scent-blocker free.

Minho and Jeongin seemed less angry at each other. Or maybe it was wishful thinking, Chan didn't know anymore. His thoughts were chasing each other around in his head, and he kept imagining how nice it was to be in Jeongin's arms and not have to think.

Part of him desperately wanted to go back home and let Jeongin scent him until his mind went blank, and the other wanted to pretend it never happened and lock himself in his room and never let anyone see him ever again.

"Should we go to the beach this weekend?" Felix whispered to him between one event and the next.

"The beach?"

"Yeah. I found a place not too far, I think you'll like it. And it's tradition, right? We all go out before a big event."

Chan considered. No amount of nightmares could make him dislike the beach, and they all needed some sort of break. Especially after the past couple of weeks.

If nothing else, maybe it would help him calm down, gain some clarity.

"Sounds good, Lix."

Felix beamed, and promised him to set everything up.

The sand was cold between his toes, the sun having set a long time ago. Felix was walking alongside him, the other kids huddling around the fire Minho built, roasting marshmallows and shoving each other and sipping beer.

"It's not like the beaches back in Australia, but I thought it'd make you feel better."

Chan hummed, listening to the waves lapping at the shore. There was a lump steadily building in his throat, memories of home wiggling between his thoughts like his toes in the sand.

"Do you still get homesick?"

Felix nodded, then tilted his head.

"It's not exactly homesick. `Cause, like, if you think of the word homesick, it has 'home' in it, and I feel like this is my home too. but I do miss Australia."

Hyunjin's laugh pierced the quiet of the night, followed by a vague noise of outrage from Seungmin. Chan's heart felt like it was being pulled in a million directions.

"Sometimes I'm not sure I know where my home is." He admitted quietly.

Felix studied his profile, contemplating.

"I'd like to think we can be a home for you."

"No, yeah, of course, I don't mean - of course you are, I just..."

"It's okay to feel alone sometimes, Chris."

Chan kept silent. He wasn't sure if alone was the right word. He thought of drifting in salty water, engulfed by so much nothing.

"I feel... lost, I think," he mumbled. His eyes skittered between the waves, thoughts in a whirlpool. "I don't know how to do anything other than what I've always been doing."

Felix swayed slightly beside him, hands in his pockets. His silence wasn't daunting - Chan knew he was gathering his thoughts. He knew his confessions were safe with Felix, as they always were, despite how a part of him thrashed at the thought of burdening his sunshine with his stupid musings.

"Maybe you just gotta start."

"Just do it?" Chan chuckled, weakly imitating the Shia power pose.

"Yeah," Felix smiled. "No, but like, seriously."

Chan glanced at Jeongin, his face lit up by the fire, a wide smile splitting his face. He looked at Minho, finally carefree after so long being tense, after so long suffering from Chan's cowardice. He looked at Jisung, his heart shaped smile and his bleeding heart. He imagined sitting with them, imagined what it would be like if they knew. Imagined letting them scent him like he let Jeongin, imagined giving them his heart in a clam shell and hoping they wouldn't throw it back into the sea.

"I'm scared." He whispered.

Felix's lips tightened. He rubbed Chan's back comfortingly.

"You don't need to be. You have us."

The award show was loud.

It always was, to be fair. He was always excited to be able to show his support for his peers, his sunbaes and his hoobaes with his actions, not just his words. He, and the rest of the members, who always joined in when the music took him over and he started jumping around like a concert goer rather than an idol. Every time someone new took the stage, he found himself looking at the members. They were tired, but excited, he could tell. The beach getaway did them all good. For the first time in a while, he felt like they were all on the same page, Jeongin and Minho included.

They prepared themselves to get up on stage, exchanging pats on the back and words of encouragement as they put in their in-ears. A second before their cue, they gathered around in a circle, putting their hands in.

"Don't get hurt, and let's have fun!" He called, and they all put their hands down, except for Minho, who raised his hand just to get a rise out of Chan, like he always did. Chan couldn't stop himself from grinning if he tried. His family was all together, all in one place, all working towards one goal. That, more than anything, had always made him feel at peace, as content as he could allow himself to get.

The crowd was roaring before the lights even came on. A sense of clarity washed over Chan as he once again remembered that this was what he was born to do. Being on stage, giving his all to the performance, to his members, to the audience. Adrenaline carried him through the ten minute show, over much too quickly for his liking. He craved more, craved the purity of the stage, the way everything else fell away except them and the crowd. He felt he could've stood there for hours, as long as the members were by his side. He felt invincible.

They won two awards. Chan somehow still found himself surprised, though he was happy to perform an encore. Truly, it had been too long since they'd had a proper concert.

He looked around at the members as the show came to a close. They all seemed just as wired as him, just as unwilling to let this euphoria go. He was giddy with it, bursting at the seams. There was nothing they couldn't do if they stuck together, he just knew it. Nothing in the world could reach them, could tear them apart, not when they had this .

Felix's words echoed in his mind.

"Let's go eat. Hyung will treat you," He announced as they were getting ready to leave, which was met with cheers and whoops from everyone.

They bought more food than they could handle, the table absolutely overflowing with it, their eyes bright, their souls all entangled in each other.

He thought again of Jisung's song, of what he said. Imagined, for a moment, what it would be like to give him what he wanted, to let him help shoulder the burden. He thought about how much he wanted to be there for Jisung, to be a safe space for his vulnerability, and how much it must hurt Jisung that he wasn't Chan's.

Nothing to fear as long as we're together , he thought. His heart was pounding, his palms sweaty, but for once, the thought of telling them didn't paralyze him. It was scary, but it wasn't an irreversible mistake. Not just a selfish whim, or a depraved fantasy. For the first time in his life, Chan dared to think this might actually be something that could bring them closer.

"I want to tell you something." He blurted. He was scared shitless, but he had his pack. That's all that mattered.

The table grew silent, all eyes looking towards him.

"Me too," Felix added, his face suddenly serious. Chan was a little surprised - he figured he'd be the only one with secrets to spill tonight. He gestured for Felix to go first, but Felix shook his head, gesturing for him to go first. Except, Chan was pretty sure his secret was a little more shocking than whatever Felix had to say, so it wouldn't really be fair for him to go first.

"Let's say it together," He suggested, a little amused by how juvenile it felt. But Felix threw him a smile, so he figured it was okay. Chan took a breath, and Felix mirrored him on the other side of the table.

"I'm an omega."

"We're all dating each other - wait. What?"

Chapter End Notes

just in case anyone is interested, i now have a bluesky! @tastyramen
you're welcome to come talk to me there, and i'll probably occasionally post an update about how writing is going.
as always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated <3

Chapter 3: having

Chapter Summary

Chapter Notes

whew.

so, this was a long ass journey. as a note, feel free to not read any of this more personal rant that is only tangentially related to the fic <3

when i started this fic i didn't even imagine it would take me nearly a year to finish it, or that it would be the longest thing ive ever written, coming around to *checks notes* roughly 63k words, but here we are. just to put things in perspective - since the beginning of this fic, my cat who ive had since i was little passed away, i dropped out of my degree, moved in with my partner, had a birthday, got a job and tried 2 different second jobs (quit both).

id like to thank my amazing partner who, despite not really reading fanfiction or any other form of fiction, and hasn't even heard of abo before i just dropped chapter 1 on them, read every single iteration of this chapter, complained about chan being sad, and basically beta-read this entire monster of a thing.

this chapter went through a LOT of changes in terms of plot points and just general ideas. there's a lot i could say about what inspired me to write this specific story in this specific way, but i prefer to let you come to your own conclusions (yes i realize i sound like chan post railway.)

i also wanted to say some stuff about "the fandom" (and i use quotes because this never represents everyone or even the individuals in said fandom). when i discovered skz in 2024 i avoided interacting with stay online for the very reason i am now avoiding instagram (and by extension, threads, bc apparently you can't use ig without seeing threads anymore). there is just such a surplus of negativity. whether it's ppl complaining about asinine shit, or criticizing and nitpicking, or forcing ideals on fucking idols, whose job is, let's remember, to entertain people, not to be vessels for political and/or moral ideas. it's exhausting and draining and time consuming. unfortunately, in wanting to engage with something i love, i end up just being flooded with anxiety and just general negativity. it's honestly one of the things that kept delaying this fic - every time i was on a roll, i went online to engage with more content in hopes to fuel my creativity, only to end up feeling more distant and disconnected than when i started, and losing steam. i'm not saying this to preach or to start of conversation about any of these topics, i'm mostly saying this in the hopes that there are people who feel the same, and if there are, that they know they're not alone in that feeling, and that fandoms, for all their beauty, can be exhausting fucking spaces. and i hope that maybe this fic, aside from being something you (hopefully) love reading, can provide you with a way to engage with a thing you love without all the real-world negativity. it's one of the things that drew me to fics, anyway.
i think one of the hardest things in the world is feeling like you're alone in what you're feeling, so i just wanted to put this out there, hoping it's not just me :')

anyway, personal rant out of the way, i really hope you enjoy this fucking monster of an update. i really, really, really hope the ending didn't feel rushed or abrupt. i am definitely not done with this world - i already have some ideas for shorter fics in this setting (in fact, i have a smut drabble in my docs waiting to be published). i also, over this year, had some ideas for other fics, and i hope to bring them to fruition because i honestly really liked them.

enjoy!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

"Do you think they all hate me?"

It'd been a week since all hell broke loose at the private room of their favorite barbeque place.

The other members were mad at Chan. He could feel it.

He completely understood - he'd be mad at himself too.

They were still talking to him, still working together, but there was always tension there, like they were holding back from saying something, or like they were waiting for him to say something first.

It made Chan want to tear his hair out. Or curl up into a ball and disappear.

"Chris, none of us could hate you if we tried."

"You speaking from experience?"

"Ha ha."

Felix shouted as his character died on screen, just barely refraining from slamming his fist on the desk. He clicked his mouse impatiently, waiting to respawn. His scent turned sharp with his irritation, tickling Chan's nose.

"Do you think they'll forgive me?"

"I think they already have. They're just mad at you `cause they have to be mad at you, y'know?"

"...No, that doesn't make any sense."

Felix shrugged.

"You did keep something from us for like, 10 years."

Chan hummed, his stomach churning.

"Iyennie was really mad when he found out."

"Oh, so that's what all that was about?"

"I'm still surprised he didn't tell you."

"Nah, Jeonginnie's like, your number one defender. I think you'd have to, like, kill his mum for him to think anything bad about you."

"Jesus, Lix."

Felix laughed.

"I just wish I could do something."

"Look, you want my thoughts?"

"Always."

"Let it go, mate. There's nothing you can do about it, and being sad is just gonna make everyone be even more sad, y'know? You just need to give it time."

Seungmin knocked on the door, then swung it open without waiting for a reply.

"I'm ordering food. Do you want anything?"

His eyes were glued to his phone.

"I could go for pizza actually." Felix suggested, tongue poking out in concentration now that he's finally respawned. Seungmin nodded, tapping away on his phone.

Chan picked at his cuticles.

Seungmin lingered.

His dark chocolate scent blended nicely with the saltiness that clung to every corner of Felix's room.

Chan opened his own phone, uselessly navigating between his calculator and calendar apps.

Felix shouted in triumph as he killed an enemy, and Seungmin's scent turned sweeter with his amusement.

"Hyung?" Seungmin asked.

"Hmm?"

"Do you want pizza or something else?"

"Oh," Chan blinked. He was surprised, though he supposed he shouldn't have been. Seungmin wasn't one to give anyone the silent treatment. Although, Chan thought, none of them were anymore. Maybe before, when they were younger, more quick to anger and hurt, less emotionally aware. Certainly not nowadays. "Yeah, yeah I could eat pizza."

Seungmin nodded and left the room.

"See?" Felix said, as though reading Chan's mind. Chan hummed. He wanted to call Seungmin back into the room, ask him to sit next to him on the bed and pester him like always, but he feared it wouldn't exactly be welcome.

"So how long have you all been..."

"It's a little complicated. I guess, technically... four years? But it wasn't all at once."

"Right."

Chan didn't really feel like pushing right then. In all truth, he felt a bit queasy. Four years and he hadn't noticed once. Either they were better than him at keeping secrets, or he'd had his head shoved unbelievably far up his own ass.

"I get why you did it, y'know," Felix's voice was quiet, his eyes still on the screen, though his character wasn't moving. "Why you kept it from us."

"You do?"

"You think I wouldn't?"

"I don't know, Lix."

I don't know anything anymore, he didn't say. Felix scoffed like he heard it anyway.

"I might not ever fully understand the position you were in, hyung, but I understand you. And, in case you forgot, we went through it all together."

Chan's mouth twisted. Felix was right, of course. Chan forgot that sometimes - that he wasn't the only one who had been choked by the fear of failure, of disbandment. They all had their struggles, he knew that. He knew that he wasn't even privy to some of them, but his secret always felt different. It always felt career breaking, life threatening, world ending. It felt like a mistake, something that was never meant to happen in the first place, something that needed to be erased.

Seungmin strolled into the room again, flopping on Felix's bed.

"Food's here in five minutes. I'm not opening the door."

Chan's lips twitched, almost a smile. His hand hovered over Seungmin's knee, instinct leading him there to pat it, but he stopped halfway, and let his hand fall back into his lap.

He took a deep breath and got up to greet the delivery man.

Jeongin waved at him from the couch when he returned to their apartment. Chan shuffled over to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, unwrapping the snack he'd bought on the way home.

"How'd it go, hyung?"

"Alright, I guess. As good as it can be. We had pizza."

He heard the shuffling of socked feet behind him.

"What's that?"

"Dark chocolate with sea salt. You want some?"

Jeongin declined, and Chan shrugged, popping a bite into his mouth.

"You look sad."

Chan turned and did his best to smile.

"`M fine, Jeongin-ah, don't worry about me." His wrist twinged when he rolled it, trying to loosen up the tension there. He heard Jeongin shuffle around behind him, then Jeongin's hand was on his forearm, turning him so they faced each other. He was holding a tube of the cream they used to soothe strained muscles, squeezing out a blueberry sized portion onto his fingers, then pressing them to Chan's wrist.

"I'll worry about you if I want to, hyung."

Chan winced. Jeongin's fingers were gentle on his wrist, moving in small, careful circles. Chan's skin warmed, reacting to the medicine and making the scent gland on the inside of his wrist pulse. Scent was usually weaker there, from what he knew, but still, Jeongin gingerly turned his hand over and brushed his own scent gland against Chan's. The smell was soft, barely there - like a candle long snuffed out but still present. It made a soft, mellow feeling rise in his chest, his breath slowing slightly. He vaguely recalled seeing his parents doing something similar when he was small, a soothing gesture he never really understood. He was struck, once again, by just how little he knew about his own physiology. How much more Jeongin knew. It should've scared him, maybe, but trusting Jeongin was woven into the very fabric of his being. He couldn't stop if he tried.

"I think it's starting to come back, a little," Jeongin murmured.

"What is?"

"Your scent. I can't tell exactly what it is yet, but it's... sweet."

Chan's mouth twisted. Omega scents usually were.

Jeongin moved down to the palm of his hand, kneading it between his own palms. "That made you uncomfortable." Jeongin looked up at him, but only briefly. Chan was surprised - he was usually better at hiding his thoughts, but he supposed scenting stripped you of that, too. He nodded. "Why?"

"I don't know."

Jeongin paused, Chan's hand still between his, just holding. He studied Chan, who did his best not to squirm. In truth, he didn't have a better answer. Reminders of his nature made him uncomfortable, that was the long and short of it.

"Okay, hyung."

Chan couldn't sleep.

It wasn't new, or even surprising. He's tried everything there is to try, from calming teas that made his throat itch to meditation which made him even more restless. He knew he shouldn't look at his phone, knew it'd make everything worse and leave him with dry eyes and a headache in the morning, but he was tempted anyway.

His other option was to give into the persistently nagging voice at the back of his head, the one that kept bringing up memories he promised himself he wouldn't revisit. The times he made one of the other members cry because the company asked for something and he didn't know how to make it happen without being a dick. Or other times, when members confided in him and looked to him for reassurance, for empathy, but all he could give them were empty platitudes. Even worse, times he bottled up everything he was feeling and ended up lashing out at them. Those seemed to keep happening, no matter how much he was trying to get better at airing out his emotions.

And now he was doing it again. Causing the members pain because of his own issues and insecurities. Asking them to forgive him for something that never should have happened in the first place. The worst part, he thought, was that he still believed what he did was for the best. There was a stubborn part of him that insisted they wouldn't get to where they were today if they'd all known. Just the same as if he wasn't an uptight asshole for the first half of their career.

But was it actually worth it? Was it worth it to hurt them? To hurt himself?

He was alone again.

The sound of the sea rushed in his ears, sand cold between his toes.

He was at the shoreline, this time. No Berry licking his fingers or resting her head in his lap.

He looked back, but the beach was empty. The clouds were gray, and icy wind whipped at his face.

He had to dive in. There was a tugging in his chest, but he couldn't tell which way it was leading him. His legs moved without his permission, waves rushing forward to embrace him. He was up to his chest now. The water was so cold he couldn't feel his own limbs. Wave after wave barreled into his chest, knocking him backwards and making him lose his balance, and he was dragged under. The water was dark and endless. No light in sight. He was heavy as lead, sinking into the depths. His lungs seized, and he could no longer hold his breath. He opened his mouth to breathe-

Chan woke up choking. He coughed violently, trying to regain his breath. There was a rapid knock on his door.

"Hyung?" Jeongin called from the other side of his door. "Everything okay?"

"I'm fine," He croaked, trying to clear his throat.

"Can I come in?"

"It's fine, don't worry-" Chan tried, but the door swung open anyway. Jeongin was already dressed, loose sweats and an even looser t-shirt, perfect for a day of dance practice. Chan suppressed a groan, his head pulsing with pain.

"Is the sleep apnea acting up?"

Chan nodded weakly. His limbs felt waterlogged. A part of him wanted to go back to sleep, but most of him was too scared to. His eyes closed without his permission, his thoughts drifting.

"Hey," Jeongin shook his shoulder gently, and Chan forced his eyes open. He was holding a painkiller and a glass of water. Chan hummed his thanks, downing the pill in one go. He checked his phone and suppressed another groan. No wonder Jeongin was already dressed.

"Hyung, take your time, we can be a little late-"

"I'm fine, Iyennie, thank you," He forced himself up, glad he'd decided on his outfit yesterday. He changed quickly, rushing through his morning routine before joining Jeongin at the front door.

The ride was silent. For once, Jeongin insisted on driving, and Chan didn't feel like arguing.

Chan's thoughts kept drifting to his nightmare.

It felt different this time. Like something was being taken away from him.

Jeongin made an unhappy sound from his seat behind the wheel.

"What's up?" Chan straightened up in his own seat, cracking his neck in the process. Jeongin hesitated, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

"I'm... not sure. I just, I think you're upset?" Jeongin looked at him from the corner of his eye. Chan picked at his cuticles, eyes on the road. He cleared his throat.

"I am." He forced himself to say. "It's not a big deal. Had a nightmare," He chuckled.

Jeongin frowned.

"What about?"

"It's nothing. I don't even remember."

"Don't lie," Jeongin snapped. "Hyung," he added apologetically. Chan blinked, startled.

"It was the same one I always have," he muttered. Jeongin kept silent, but Chan didn't elaborate. He didn't particularly want to share in the first place, and now he just didn't feel like talking at all.

"Sorry. I- you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I don't know why I'm-" Jeongin huffed. "Here," Jeongin offered his wrist, palm up. Chan's eyebrows scrunched, confused. "If you want to scent me. It's less effective when we have our blockers on, but it should still help."

Chan eyed Jeongin's wrist warily.

"I'm good," He turned to the window.

Predictably, they were the last to arrive. Minho was leading everyone through a part they'd agreed they have to polish for the upcoming fanmeeting. Thankfully, it was only them today - no staff or choreographers to give them strange looks. Chan took his place next to Changbin and quickly warmed up.

"All good?" Changbin patted Chan's arm.

"Yeah, yeah. Overslept."

Changbin gave him a puzzled look, but didn't ask anything else.

Everyone seemed looser. Their practice sessions weren't really tense, but even so, there was a fatigue that came with repeating the same choreography for hours on end. Today, however, there seemed to be none of that. Hyunjin descended on Jeongin every chance he got, ruffling his hair and cooing at him, at one point even smacking a loud kiss on his cheek. Felix and Changbin were glued to each other's sides, leaning on each other and massaging each other. Seungmin orbited around them like their personal moon, holding hands at one point, trading jokes another. Jisung kept teasing Minho, pushing him just to see how far he could go, then running away before he could face the consequences.

Jeongin kept throwing worried looks at Chan, but everyone else seemed content to keep him outside of their little bubbles.

His chest tightened.

They were still upset with him, it made sense. He hadn't really given them much reason not to be. Plus, now that he knew what they really were to each other, they had no reason to hide it anymore. They probably never felt safe enough to do this kind of thing as openly before.

He felt so... distant. He didn't have a role in all of this, in all of them, in this pack they've created.

The pressure on his chest turned painful, and he rubbed his palm right between his ribs, hoping to relieve it. Minho called for a break, and everyone dispersed. The Changbin-Felix-Seungmin molecule claimed the couch, while Jisung and Minho just dropped to the floor, Jisung's head resting on Minho's chest. Hyunjin tackled Jeongin into a wall, and Chan didn't look, but he could hear some obnoxious kissing noises from their direction. More to tease Jeongin than anything, Chan figured, but he didn't want to verify his guess.

He leaned his back against the mirror and slid down, letting his breaths return to normal.

"Hyung, are you okay?" Jeongin sidled up to his side without him noticing.

"Yeah, fine." He nodded, and threw in a smile for good measure. Jeongin sniffed next to him. "You coming down with something, Iyennie?"

"No..." Jeongin sounded unsure.

"Hyung, is everything alright?" Changbin appeared by his other side. Chan frowned. Surely he wasn't this obvious? Has he lost the ability to keep his thoughts to himself?

"I'm fine," He insisted. Suddenly, Felix turned to him from the other side of the room. He tilted his head, his mouth turned down, then started making his way towards Chan.

"If one more person asks me-"

"What's up, Chris?"

"Nothing, everything's fine, we can go back to practice now, yeah? Everyone's rested enough?"

He must've been louder than he thought, because everyone turned to look at him. There were twin sniffs from Changbin and Felix by his side. Something tingled in the back of Chan's mind, like there was something important he was forgetting.

From the corners of the room, everyone started slowly making their way to Chan. Jisung and Hyunjin lingered at the back, like they were stopping themselves from approaching even though they wanted to.

Chan was beginning to feel like a museum exhibition.

He jumped to his feet, hoping that would be enough to send everyone back to their positions.

"Is that-" Felix muttered, then leaned in close to Chan's side and sniffed right under his ear. Chan jerked back, heart hammering in his chest.

"Felix, what the fuck-"

"Do you smell that?" Felix's eyes were closed in concentration. "It's like... sweet, but sad?"

Changbin hummed in agreement, then sniffed again. Seungmin and Minho were in front of him now, curious eyes locked onto Chan's neck, which warmed under their gaze. Seungmin sniffed the air like a puppy, while Minho took a long, deep breath.

"Is hyung lonely?" Minho mumbled, almost to himself. "Or maybe... jealous?"

Chan pressed himself against the mirror at his back. What the fuck was even happening?

"Hyung," Jeongin grabbed his forearm. "This morning, you were getting ready in a rush-"

It finally clicked.

"I gotta go," Chan choked out, then pushed past Minho and Seungmin and practically ran out of the studio. He briefly thought of clamping his hands against the sides of his neck, but figured it'd only make everything worse. He walked as fast as he could without looking suspicious, checking the fastest route to the nearest pharmacy on his phone.

It was terrifying. How could they live like this? Knowing every single thought or emotion that went through each other's minds? Those thoughts were supposed to be private. He was trying to respect them, give them their space, let them feel safe around him. How was he supposed to do that if his scent was leaking his emotions all over the place?

The sides of his neck itched, the cheap scent-blocking stickers irritating his already sensitive glands, but it was worth it. He couldn't handle this. He needed his own space, too.

He stopped outside of the practice room, hoping to regain his composure. Through the transparent panel in the door he could see the members all clustered by the mirror, where he was standing just minutes ago. They seemed to be arguing, or at least talking heatedly about something. The moment Chan pushed open the door, they all jumped away from each other, all trying to find a different way to look like they weren't just talking about him behind his back. Chan huffed, half amused, half hurt. He walked up to the sound system and queued up their song.

"Let's get back to it," He called, and turned the music on.

Their second long break of the day found them all in various states of undress. Hyunjin was already dripping, sweats pulled up to his thighs, sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, showing off his muscle-corded arms. Felix's shirt was off, hair pushed out of his face with a backwards baseball cap, with his freckled skin on full display. Changbin took off his overshirt, leaving him in a tight tank top that only accentuated the sheer size of his shoulders.

Chan shifted in his seat on the couch, tearing his gaze away and focusing on his phone.

He swore it used to be easier to ignore them when they were like this.

His neck itched, and he scratched carefully around the sticker.

"You know, it's not a big deal," Seungmin said softly from his place to Chan's left. What he was doing could barely be called sitting - his back was flush with the seat, neck craned at an odd angle to accommodate his insistence to have his head against the backrest, his entire weight supported by his legs with his feet planted on the floor.

"What is?"

"The blockers. We forget to put ours on all the time when it's just us."

"It's different."

"No it's not."

"It is," Chan insisted.

"How is it different?"

"I don't see you fucking - sniffing each other like dogs when you forget your blockers."

"That's because we already know what we all smell like."

Chan chewed the inside of his cheek. He thought back to all of Jeongin's questions when he found out.

"So, what, you were curious?"

"Yes."

He said it so simply, like it was an uncomplicated truth.

"And you don't mind that everyone can tell what you're feeling?"

"Not really."

Chan drummed his fingers on the couch.

"Hyung, are you really that uncomfortable with us knowing what's on your mind?"

Chan swallowed.

"Let's just get back to practice, Seung."

Kitty: gt8fyl.gif

Chan stared down at his phone. Minho just sent him a gif of a cat play-fighting with a dog. He looked back up at his monitor, confused.

You: Cute ^^

Kitty: vfsgd.gif

This one was a gif of a dog biting and licking at a cat's ear. The cat's tail swished in annoyance, but it was letting it happen.

Chan frowned.

It wasn't uncommon for Minho to be cryptic in text messages, but this was a new level of confusing, even for Chan.

Kitty: come to our place i made too much food and jisungie is a being an ungrateful brat

You: Minho I'm working 11

Kitty: dsbgk.gif

A cat slapping a dog's face. Chan was beginning to understand, maybe.

You: I can't leave just because you made food

Kitty: it's 12 am you can do whatever you want chan-ah

Kitty: bgtsdf.gif

A cat curling up to sleep. Where was he even getting all of these?

Chan's stomach rumbled. He cursed softly to himself.

He looked back to his monitor, the unfinished track staring back at him.

You: I need to finish this track

Kitty: [sticker]

Three different sleeping cats. Chan suspected they may be Minho's cats, but he wasn't sure. He played the unfinished track once more.

The truth was, he'd been stuck on this track for at least an hour. He didn't really know what to do with it, and the hunger wasn't helping. Maybe a break would do him good.

You: Fine, you win. I'm omw

Kitty: ghsdfkb.gif

A gif of a cat making biscuits on a dog's belly.

Chan snorted.

The door opened to reveal a disheveled, pyjama-clad Minho. Chan barely resisted the urge to flatten Minho's hair.

"Did I wake you up?"

"No."

Minho turned and walked into the apartment. Suddenly bashful, Chan followed, taking off his shoes and trying to step lightly. The apartment was quiet, the lights turned down.

"Is Hannie sleeping?"

"Something like that."

The apartment smelled vaguely of both their scents - pine twining around bergamot. Chan could almost see them lying together on the couch, watching some anime and snacking, before Chan knocked on the door and Jisung scurried away. He'd been doing that, lately. Avoiding Chan.

They made their way to the kitchen, where Minho took something out of the fridge and shoved it into the microwave. He turned, leaning his butt on the edge of the countertop. Chan hovered by the kitchen table.

"Sit."

Chan sat.

The silence was disturbed only by the sounds of the plate spinning inside the microwave.

"How was your day?" Chan asked, uselessly, considering they'd spent most of their day in the same space. He just couldn't shake the feeling that he was intruding on something, and it was making him ten times more awkward than usual.

"Shut up and eat." Minho took the plate out of the microwave and set it in front of Chan. Steam was gently curling up from the generous helping of dubu jorim and rice Minho prepared for him.

Chan mumbled his thanks and picked up a serving with his chopsticks, blowing on it gently before putting it into his mouth. It was good, as always.

"It's nice you have time for this," He covered his mouth as he chewed.

"Mm," Minho agreed, eyes blinking rapidly. If Chan concentrated, he could just barely make out hints of Minho's scent turning pleased. His neck itched, the scent blocking stickers starting to peel off, and he thought back to what Minho said in the practice room earlier.

"I'm not lonely."

"What?" Minho frowned.

"You said before. I don't know what my scent was doing, but I'm not lonely."

Minho was silent for a moment.

"Okay."

"And besides, you took like, one sniff. That's not enough to get all of - what you said."

"It was."

Chan stabbed a piece of tofu with his chopstick.

"Well, how come I can't tell exactly what you're thinking right now? All I can smell is that you're happy I enjoy your food."

Minho's pushed off of the counter, coming to sit in front of Chan.

"It's like your face, or your voice. You learn to control it with time. It can be harder with stronger feelings, but it's not like someone is reading your mind."

"Like how your ears just turned red because I complimented your food again?"

Minho huffed, embarrassed, and rolled his eyes.

"So you can't usually tell what the guys are thinking from their scents?"

Minho tilted his head.

"It's like when you joke around with Iyennie and you can tell when he's starting to actually get mad."

"Like, you learned to read each other?"

Minho hummed in confirmation. "Scent is just a part of that. If we really wanted to hide something from each other, we could, but it's been a long time since we did that."

Chan chewed thoughtfully. He supposed he never really learned to control his scent, considering he suppressed it all the time. But how long would it take? Would he have to put up with his scent broadcasting his emotions to everyone around him until he finally learned to reign it in? That sounded awful.

He supposed he could see the beauty in it, the way it connected the members. Then again, they had an advantage over him - while he was trying to find the best way to suppress himself, they were learning how to express themselves. How to keep things private even when they weren't blocking their scent. Besides, they really didn't have anything to hide from each other. The seven of them had their own little bubble of intimacy, and it wasn't going away any time soon. He didn't want to keep repeating what happened in the training room today.

Minho shifted in place, his shirt slipping slightly to reveal more of his collarbone, where a faint red mark adorned his skin. Chan's face warmed, and he cleared his throat. Seeing them today at work was one thing, but knowing now what they must get up to behind closed doors was something else entirely. He wasn't sure if he was more scared or curious to find out.

"So, you and Hannie... and everyone, I guess..."

Minho raised a single eyebrow.

"I guess I, um," Chan tapped his chopsticks against the plate. How did he phrase it? He didn't want to intrude on their - their sex life. They've talked about it before, vaguely, and he always tried his best not to be a part of those conversations, so there was still a lot he didn't actually know. And wouldn't it be rude? Like, invasive? He didn't want to be weird about it.

He looked down at his plate, contemplating. It was a nice plate, not plain white like he expected. In fact, it looked hand painted - a beautiful flower right at the center. Something about it seemed familiar. Chan blinked.

"Did Hyunjinnie make this?"

Minho raised his eyebrows at the change in subject.

"Yeah. He's been getting into pottery."

Chan stared at the flower. He was sure he'd heard Hyunjin talking about it before.

"He made this for you?"

"No, for Jisungie. For their anniversary, or something."

"Anniversary of what?"

"I don't know, ask them. You know Hyunjinnie - he's a romantic."

Chan swallowed. It kept surprising him, just how many things he's missed.

"Lix said you've been together for 4 years."

"Mm," Minho hummed, like kind-of. Chan was starting to feel a little sick. Was it more than 4 years? He wanted to know everything. Was it romantic right from the start? Were they all just in love with each other all this time? Or did it start out physical, with the dating ban and the public image and all? He was sure Minho and Jisung had an exclusive thing going on. Did they share? Were they all together like all together? All 21 configurations? Did none of them ever think about him in that way? No, fuck, he didn't wanna know. Selfish asshole. It wasn't about him. He didn't need to know.

Minho huffed a laugh, snapping Chan out of his spiral.

"What?" Chan smiled slightly, Minho's amused expression enough to calm the turbulent waves of his thoughts.

"It's just funny that Yongbok was the one who told you."

"What do you mean?"

"He was so scared to, at the start. He thought you'd kill all of us."

Chan flinched.

"He thought he would be disappointing you, or that you'd think he was hurting the group."

"Right," Chan chuckled awkwardly.

"It really upset him. He wanted to tell you so much, and I kept telling him `Let's just do it, hyung will be fine,' but every time he just couldn't do it."

"You wanted to tell me?"

"I wanted to tell you the first time anything happened," Minho smiled sardonically. "But the kids were scared."

Chan nodded to himself.

"Jeonginnie kept trying to convince himself he didn't want to be a part of it. He couldn't tell you, but he didn't wanna keep a secret from you."

Chan's stomach clenched.

"Well, he ended up doing a good job," Chan said, more bitter than he intended.

"So did you."

Chan pushed away from the table, plate unfinished.

"Thanks for the food, Minho-ya. Tell Jisungie hyung said hi."

Minho nodded.

He let Chan see himself out, which Chan was grateful for. He needed a minute to think.

Jeongin was in his room by the time Chan made it back home, but there was light coming from under his door, so Chan assumed he was awake.

He knocked on the door, calling Jeongin's name softly.

"Yeah?" A groggy voice responded, and Chan opened the door.

Jeongin was in bed, eyes half closed, hair disheveled. He had his phone in his hand, a YouTube video paused right before the end.

"Can I sit?" Chan gestured to the bed. Jeongin scooched towards the wall, making room at his side on the bed. Chan hesitated for a moment, before laying down next to Jeongin, back against the headboard.

"You okay, hyung?"

"Mm."

Chan's eyes darted between the various items on Jeongin's shelf. Cologne, a poetry book, an old bible. A pot with a flower painted on it.

Chan cleared his throat.

"I had dinner with Minho."

Jeongin hummed questioningly.

"He `made too much food'," Chan folded his fingers into air quotes to emphasize, and he saw Jeongin nodded knowingly from the corner of his eye. "We talked a little, about," Chan pet the comforter under him, "About you all."

Jeongin remained silent.

"He said you were... scared to tell me."

Jeongin inhaled sharply.

"I... used to be, yeah."

Chan's throat made a wounded little noise without consulting his brain first and he tilted his head back to stop any more stupid noises coming out.

"I'm sorry, hyung."

Chan hummed, eyes tracing shaped on the ceiling.

"Can I ask why?" He almost whispered.

"I..." Jeongin trailed off. Chan's chest hurt.

"You don't have to tell me, Iyen-ah."

The room was so, so quiet.

Chan made to get up, but Jeongin's hand on his forearm stopped him.

"Wait," He pleaded. Chan leaned back. "I've always looked up to you so much, hyung, you have to know that. You were this... amazing artist, this perfect hyung, someone who took a chance on me for- for no reason, really. And you'd been through so much, and you were so stressed, all the time. About the company, and about us, and about everything. You were dealing with so many things we didn't even know about. And now I know it was even more than we thought it was." Jeongin took a deep breath. "I was scared you would hate me."

Chan swallowed a sound threatening to escape his treacherous throat.

"I was scared that you would hate that I put the members at risk. That I couldn't control myself and be better, like you were always trying to be. Like the example you were setting for us. I was scared you'd-" Jeongin cut himself off. Against his better judgement, Chan placed his hand on Jeongin's thigh, squeezing gently. "I was scared you'd regret choosing me."

Chan's throat burned.

"I could never," Chan rasped. "I could never, ever in a million years regret choosing you. Choosing any of you. Are you crazy?"

Jeongin chuckled.

"I know that, hyung."

"Do you?" Chan turned to look at Jeongin, only to find him already looking back.

"I promise."

Chan loosened his grip on Jeongin's thigh. He licked his lips just for something to do. Jeongin's eyes were determined, staring unwaveringly into Chan's own. His eyes were sharper like this, his cheekbones more pronounced. His hair was long, and frizzy from a shower. His mouth was a thin, cherry red line. Chan wondered what kind of chapstick Jeongin used. Wondered if he could figure it out by taste.

He blinked the thought away, and went back to looking at the ceiling.

"So when did you stop being scared?"

"When Yongbok-hyung told you, I think?" Jeongin chuckled. Chan's heart sank. All this time, he never stopped being afraid? Even after everything, he still thought there was a chance Chan would...

"I feel like... Maybe for you it was the same?" Jeongin offered hesitantly.

Chan thought for a moment.

"I... guess."

"You know we'd never regret choosing you, too, right?"

Chan's throat constricted, his eyes suddenly watering. He nodded jerkily, and Jeongin scooted closer to him, laying his head on Chan's shoulder.

"Never ever, hyung. Not in a million years."

Hannie: Screenshot.jpg

Chan was on his last repetition of lat pulldowns when his phone buzzed. He carefully reset the machine and rolled his shoulders to loosen some of the tension, before picking up his phone.

Bin: New lyrics?

Hannie: maybe yeah

You: These look really good Hannie

The minute of rest until his next set passed slowly with no other responses in the chat. Chan returned to his exercise, trying to focus on the burn in his muscles. The front of his shirt was getting a little damp for his liking, and by now he'd usually take his shirt off, but he hesitated. He'd been feeling odd lately. Like his skin was paper thin, and everyone could see right through him. It made him want to cover up more than usual.

He finished his last set and stood up, collecting his things and looking around the gym to pick his next target. His phone buzzed again.

Bin: Your wordplay keeps getting better

Hannie: thank you hyung (,,> <,,)

You: Do you have any ideas for a melody yet?

Chan cast another glance at the room, then decided to go for the free weights. He hoped to set a new personal record on deadlifts by the end of the month.

He's been thinking about his conversation with Minho. About Minho saying the kids were scared, so he couldn't tell Chan. He wondered whether that was the truth, or if Minho was scared too. And which was worse? The knowledge he kept at such a distance that even Minho believed Chan would hate them? Or the thought that Minho preferred hurting Chan rather than hurting the other members?

What a horrible thing to think. Get your shit together, Chan huffed.

He exhaled slowly, unracking the weights and putting them back in place. He checked his phone quickly - no response from Jisung. He put the bar back on the squat rack and headed towards the treadmills.

Jisung was still avoiding him.

It was impressive, considering he was a homebody to begin with, and even before this whole thing they didn't see each other too much outside of work, and yet Chan felt it acutely. Ignoring him in shared schedules, always using the group chat whenever he needed to say anything involving Chan. Every time it happened, Chan's stomach swooped, like he missed a step going down the stairs.

He didn't really know what to do about it.

A part of him wanted to give Jisung some time to come around, because that felt like the mature thing to do. The other part wanted to grovel and apologize and follow him around until Jisung finally looked at him.

Changbin would usually get involved by now, but no such luck. Either he was mad at Chan too, or he just didn't want to touch this one. Chan couldn't tell which hurt more.

Chan's phone buzzed. He picked it up quickly, hope rising in his chest against his better judgement.

Lix: hyung

Lix: do you wanna

Lix: go out together?

He swallowed down a pang of disappointment with a bitter dose of guilt. He should be grateful Felix was texting him, not blame him for not being Jisung.

Chan slowed his treadmill to a more comfortable walking speed and unlocked his screen.

You: Sure. Whered you wanna go?

Lix: theres this pc cafe

Lix: me and seung

Lix: go out there sometimes

Lix: what do you think?

You: Sounds good mate

Chan tabbed out of KakaoTalk to look at his schedule for the day. He'd scheduled an hour of rest later today, which he was planning to use to try and pull the newest character in Genshin, but he could do that at a PC cafe, so it wasn't an issue.

You: Does 8 work?

Lix: yes :)

Lix: ill

Lix: come pick you up

Chan snorted.

You: Lix, you hate driving

Lix: oh

Lix: its not that far

Lix: we can walk

Lix: i just

Lix: want you to feel special <3

Chan frowned. What was that supposed to mean? He shook his head and put his phone back next to his water bottle, turning up the treadmill to his previous jogging speed.

By the time he was done, his shirt was soaked. He dried his face with his towel and took another look at his schedule. He had just about enough time to make it home and shower before he had to show up at the company for a meeting.

He collected his things and headed towards the elevator, joining the woman who graciously held the door open for him. He muttered his thanks and pulled out his phone to scroll through twitter. Just before the doors closed, another guy pushed through them, panting slightly. He took his place at the corner of the elevator Chan wasn't occupying, and wiped his face with the bottom half of his shirt, sending a wave of pheromones in all directions. Chan instinctively switched to breathing through his mouth, but not before catching some of the other guy's scent - flowery and floral with a hint of citrus. Probably omega, Chan thought.

The woman took a loud, deep breath from her place by the doors of the elevator. It was pretty spacious as far as elevators went, but with three people it was beginning to feel a little crowded.

"What do you think of this gym?" The woman turned to the other guy, a friendly smile on her face. Chan's eyes darted between the two, though he was pretending to still be on his phone. The guy flashed an agreeable smile, leaning back against the mirror.

"I like it. It's got everything I need and it's not too busy, at least when I usually come in."

"Oh? When's that?"

"I prefer early mornings, before work. Helps me focus."

"Yeah, me too," The woman nodded thoughtfully. "What do you do for work?"

"I actually DJ," the man blushed slightly, though he kept his eyes on the woman. Chan could relate - he was still sometimes embarrassed to say he made music, even after all these years, as if he was just making shitty beats in GarageBand and calling it a job.

"Really?" The woman's eyes widened. "That's awesome. What's your name? I gotta listen to your stuff."

The man gave out his artist name, and it sounded vaguely familiar to Chan, but he stayed silent.

He eyed the woman, curious to see any signs of recognition, but there seemed to be none. She repeated the name as she typed it into her phone.

"That's sick. I'll definitely give it a listen. Can I get your number, so I can let you know what I think?" The woman flashed the other guy a flirtatious smirk. Chan decided he'd had enough and looked back at his phone.

"Um, no, but thank you for being interested."

"Come on, it's not every day I meet a gorgeous omega who can not only deadlift two times his weight, but is also a talented musician," She was starting to sound borderline sleazy, and Chan grimaced. This was exactly what he hated. The second people knew, suddenly they looked at everything through a different lens. He wasn't just a guy lifting twice his weight, he was an omega lifting twice his weight. He wasn't a person who makes good music, he was an omega who makes good music. He hated that sort of attention.

"I said no." The guy's voice was cold now, done with niceties. Chan privately applauded him.

The woman scoffed.

"There's no need to be rude. Can't I at least get to know you?"

"He just said he's not interested." Chan looked at the woman over his phone. Her expression twisted, and she rolled her eyes.

"Mind your business, ahjussi."

"I will if you do."

The elevator dinged, its doors opening to reveal the ground floor.

"Tch. Whatever. You could've just told me you were with someone," She threw at the guy before storming out of the elevator.

Chan shivered, the conversation leaving a greasy sort of feeling on his skin.

"You okay, man?" He turned to the guy, who seemed unfazed.

"Yeah, don't worry about it. Happens every once in a while. Some alphas just can't take a hint." Chan hummed in agreement as they walked out of the elevator.

"I'm Hajoon, by the way."

"Chan."

"Thanks, Chan-ssi. We gotta look out for each other, yeah?"

Chan chuckled nervously.

"What do you mean?"

Hajoon looked at him for a second.

"Ah, nothing. Don't worry about it. See you around, yeah?"

Cha nodded dumbly, and watched Hajoon walk away, taking his scent with him. A thought occurred to Chan.

"Wait a minute," He called, and Hajoon paused, turning to him. Chan looked around, then took a few steps closer. "If you wanted, I could give you the name of some really good prescription scent blockers. They're medical grade and insanely effective."

"Why would I want prescription scent blockers?" Hajoon frowned. Chan was confused.

"So stuff like this happens less? Alphas won't approach as much if they don't even know you're an omega."

Hajoon froze.

"Oh, so you're one of those."

"What?"

"Listen, Chan-ssi, I don't know who hurt you, but it's not an omega's responsibility to stop knot-head alphas from harassing them in public."

"I- of course not, that's not what I meant," Chan floundered.

"Are you sure? Because it sounded a hell of a lot like what you just said."

"No, I just meant - if you have a way to prevent it, wouldn't you want to do that?"

"What exactly would it prevent? Assholes are gonna be assholes. They don't need a reason. They certainly don't need scent as an excuse to act gross. And taking that on ourselves just perpetuates the idea that it's our job to make sure alphas don't hurt us."

Chan didn't know what to say.

"And besides, why would I put my health at risk just because of some douchebag?"

"What do you mean?"

"Using scent blockers for extended periods of time hurts your physical health," Hajoon's eyes darted to Chan's neck, and Chan clenched his hand to stop himself from covering it. "And your mental health. Suppressing your scent is like suppressing your emotions, or your ability to communicate. It's like forcing yourself to never show anyone what you're feeling, or never talking about what you're going through. It's - it's terrible."

"But," Chan blinked, "But people wear scent blockers to work all the time."

"Yeah, to work. Not every second of their lives. Definitely not at the gym."

Chan was at a loss. It's not like he thought it was his responsibility, like Hajoon was saying, but wasn't it just the rational choice? To do what he could to minimize the risks?

He supposed most people didn't really hide their emotions or refuse to share stuff about themselves. If suppressing your scent was the same, it made sense most people didn't do it.

Maybe it was just his idol perspective that changed things. His job held more risks than most when it came to other people being able to know his scent.

Though that excuse didn't really hold water, considering he was still hiding his scent from the members.

"I'm sorry if I overwhelmed you, Chan-ssi," Hajoon looked contrite. "I realize you didn't offer advice from a bad place. I just hope... you change your mind."

"I, yeah. No worries. You definitely gave me some things to think about." Chan chuckled half-heartedly. Hajoon grimaced.

"Maybe try going on some omega forums, see what people are saying? I know it helped me a lot after I presented."

"I'm not-" Chan panicked, denying instinctively.

"No, I know you're not." Hajoon gave him a knowing look. "I'm just saying it might change your perspective."

"Right."

Hajoon looked away awkwardly.

"I'm... gonna go."

"Yeah, for sure. Sorry. Thanks. Sorry." Chan stammered.

"No worries. Good luck, Chan-ssi."

"Yup," Chan saluted him awkwardly, feet still rooted to the spot.

It took him a long time to unstick himself from the floor and make his way to the car.

"You look nice," Felix smiled, reaching out to squeeze Chan's shoulder, bared by his choice to wear a tank top. Felix's hand lingered, and his eyes did a weird, slow pass from Chan's face to his shoes and then back up again.

"Uh," Chan cleared his throat, "Thanks, Lix. You too."

His smile widened, and Chan breathed a sigh of relief, knowing he said the right thing. It didn't take much, either - Felix was dressed in loose, casual clothing, a backwards baseball cap on his head and decorative glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. His freckles stood out even more than usual on his tanned skin, as if to celebrate the sunny weather that's taken over Seoul in the last couple of days.

Felix gave Chan's arm another squeeze, then turned to lead the way.

"So, how was your day?"

"Nothing much. Worked out, made lunch, cleaned a bit, worked a bit... How about you?"

"I was at a shoot for most of the day, then I was supposed to look over some promotional offers, but Hyunjin came over, and we ended up making out for like two hours," Chan inhaled a little too sharply and briefly choked on his own spit, but managed to mask it with a quick cough. "I almost didn't make it in time," Felix chuckled, turning to Chan, who gave him a weak smile. He supposed he had to start getting used to that kind of information now.

"Sounds nice," He prayed his voice remained neutral. Felix glanced at him with a smile, then bumped his shoulder playfully.

"This place has like, the best food." Felix gushed, and Chan was grateful for the change in subject. "They have snacks and ramyeon and like, anything you could want."

"Good, I'm honestly starving."

"Same, didn't have time to eat anything today."

Chan frowned slightly, but decided not to push. It usually didn't end well when he did.

They arrived after a short walk, and Chan had to admit he was impressed. The place had a modern feel to it, not exactly cozy but not too harsh either. It was spacious, and Felix led him through the desks of monitors to a corner of the room that felt secluded enough that they wouldn't be seen by every person who walked in. Chan was relieved to find the Genshin launcher was already installed on the computer, and he went ahead and booted it up without a second thought.

"Did you wanna try to get back into LoL?" Felix asked, booting up his own game.

"Nah, mate, I suck at that game. I prefer to watch."

"No worries, I can carry you," Felix flashed him an impish smile, hands settling on the keyboard in the perfect gamer stance. Chan snorted, shaking his head. Felix was adorable like this, like a kid in a candy store, eyes wide and bright. "Ugh, I miss my keyboard," Felix pouted.

"Why, what's wrong with this one?"

"Nothing, it's just not my fun clicky keyboard. Also, I think there's input delay."

"Sure, sure, blame the input delay," Chan smirked, then burst into laughter when Felix slapped his arm. Chan took a look at his daily tasks, trying to figure out the best order to complete them in. None of the missions were a walking distance away from each other, and he was, unfortunately, on a time limit, so he couldn't really take his time to explore the area and enjoy the ambience like he wanted. He sucked in air through his teeth, annoyed at all the hopping around between teleporters he'd have to do.

Felix mashed the buttons next to him, mouse clicking rapidly, his face pinched in concentration. He always looked that much more handsome when he was focused, almost like someone sharpened his edges. Suddenly, he grinned, tongue poking out between his teeth, and just like that he was back to being sunshine incarnate, all soft and warm and boyish.

"See something you like?"

Chan sputtered, ears flaming, and turned back to his screen.

"Shut up. You know you're pretty," He sulked. Felix snorted.

"You're supposed to say something smooth and cool, hyung."

Chan pushed his tongue into his cheek in annoyance, barely sparing a glance at Felix. He was thankfully saved from having to reply as one of the employees came over to get them their snacks. They thanked her and split the spoils between them. Chan was content with his ramyeon for now, and decided he would focus on pulling the new character while eating, as he could do that one handed.

The new character was amazing. She was electro, which wasn't Chan's favorite, but she could synergize well with his other mains if he was smart about it. Her combat moves were so cool, the animations felt like something straight out of an anime, and her design was just gorgeous. Her voice was really pleasant too, which Chan was actually grateful for. Characters who were too talkative grated on his nerves a bit, but her voice made it work.

Felix snickered next to him, and Chan turned to see what he was looking at, only to find him giggling at Chan's screen.

"What?"

"Hyung, you're so predictable," He rolled his eyes slightly. "Of course you'd go for the busty, ultra feminine character."

"Wha- It's the new character! What's wrong with that?" Chan floundered, face feeling warm.

"C'mon, you never get this excited about the male characters."

Chan crossed his arms defensively.

"And your point?"

"You clearly have a type," Felix shrugged, mirth in his eyes.

"So what if I do?"

"Nothing, I'm just taking notes," Felix smirked, "For the next time I want to get your attention. Do you think anyone sells costumes of this dress in my size?"

Chan choked. Felix in a dress was- Felix in a fucking oversized tee and knee length jean shorts was enough to make him a little weak in the knees, so Felix in a dress would be-

Chan cleared his throat and took another bite of ramyeon, avoiding Felix's eyes. Smugness was practically oozing off of him.

"Why haven't you come back to Genshin, by the way?" Chan poorly attempted to redirect the conversation.

"I really wanna reach a high rank in LoL, so I kinda just spend all my time on it. Don't really feel like playing other games."

"It's so fun, though. The story is so good, and the world is so fun to be in. The music's great, too," Chan gushed. Felix studied him for a moment, his eyes soft.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, hyung."

"Well, I'd enjoy it more if someone played with me."

"Nice try," Felix shook his head.

The rest of their time in the PC cafe went by uneventfully, which Chan was thankful for. Felix lay off the teasing, and they sat in companionable silence, each enjoying his own game. Chan didn't even realize how healing it was after the day he'd had - just sharing the same space with someone in peace and quiet. He honestly didn't want to head back, but his schedule beckoned. They logged out of their accounts, Chan paid for their food and drinks (even though Felix tried to, for whatever reason), and they headed off. It was dark outside, the heat of the day making way for a gentle breeze.

"Did you have fun, hyung?"

"Yeah, I really did. I think I needed this." Chan admitted.

Felix smiled softly and threaded his fingers through Chan's, swinging their arms back and forth. Chan's heart skipped a bit, his hand suddenly feeling clammy - he hoped Felix didn't notice.

It wasn't uncommon for Felix to grab one of the member's hands like this. Chan always assumed it was platonic, but now, he wasn't so sure. If it wasn't platonic, what did that mean for Chan? Did Felix just want to include him? Or maybe he didn't want him to feel left out of physical attention even if it was just platonic between them?

He was so caught up in his thoughts he didn't realize when they made it back to their street. Felix took his hand back to fiddle with the hem of his shirt. His cheeks were a little rosy, noticeable even under the shadow the streetlight above him cast on his face.

"Could you... come up for a minute? There's something I wanted to give you."

"Sure," Chan said instinctively, even though this was pushing his schedule a bit. He was rewarded with Felix's bright, wide grin, as he all but skipped towards his building. Chan followed helplessly, his feet moving as if with a will of their own, magnetized to Felix's joy.

The first thing Chan noticed when he walked into the apartment was Seungmin peacefully sleeping on top of Hyunjin, who was scrolling on his phone, laying on the couch. Chan's heart stuttered, and he forced himself to keep moving naturally.

"Hey," He called softly, mindful of Seungmin.

"Hey, hyung," Hyunjin barely spared him a glance. Chan's stomach clenched.

"Okay, wait here," Felix instructed, and made his way into the kitchen. Chan's eyes refused to move away from his members' tangled limbs on the couch. They looked so peaceful, so at ease. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world for Hyunjin's hand to card softly through Seungmin's hair, comforting him in sleep. The room smelled like dark chocolate with sea salt, and just the barest hint of pleased vanilla from Hyunjin. It made Chan's mouth water.

Felix reappeared in front of him, holding a tupperware box.

"Here you go, hyung."

"Thanks, Lix," He said, unsure of what exactly he was receiving.

"It's chocolate chip cookies. Soft in the middle, just the way you like." Felix smiled gently, looking intently at Chan, as if waiting for something.

"Oh, wow," Chan peeked into the box from the side, glimpsing what looked like around 20 perfectly round cookies stacked inside. "Thank you, Lix." He smiled gratefully, if a bit confused at the sudden baking spree.

"Me and Seungminnie made them for you."

Chan glanced at Seungmin and Hyunjin, his heart twisting painfully in his chest.

"You didn't have to, I- Why-?"

"We wanted to. You're important to us, hyung, we wanted to show you that." Felix's voice was heavy with meaning, emphasizing- something. Chan wasn't sure what, but it struck him all the same.

He swallowed down a sudden lump in his throat. He coughed slightly, eyes somewhere to the left of Felix's face. Overcome, he pulled Felix into a hug, squeezing him maybe a bit too much. Felix took a deep breath, his hands resting on Chan's lower back, arms squeezing him just as tightly.

"I wish I could smell you," Felix rumbled. Chan's heart stuttered, his conversation with Hajoon coming back to mind. He must've been silent for too long, because Felix tensed in his arms. "Sorry. Was that too much?"

"No, no," Chan rushed to comfort him. "I'm just in my head a bit."

"Wanna talk about it?"

Chan hesitated. His eyes inevitably drifted back to Hyunjin, who was still sucked into his phone.

"How... How's he doing?" He changed the subject, keeping his voice low and hoping it would be enough. Felix looked back, considering.

"He just needs some time, hyung."

Chan suppressed a sigh. That seemed to be a theme with his members lately. Felix took Chan's free hand with both of his, playing with his fingers.

"You know, the guys were pretty mad at me too for telling you about us when I did."

"How come?" Chan frowned.

"They wanted to do it differently. To do it properly, I guess, ease you into it."

"Oh, so they didn't think dropping it on me out of nowhere was the best idea?"

Felix smiled wide, his little fangs shining in the apartment's low light in a way that was more cute than threatening, but Chan got the message all the same.

"Alright, alright, sorry," He raised the tupperware in surrender.

"Anyway, they gave me a bunch of shit for it too. But they got over it because we all love each other. That's what matters."

Chan's heart thudded painfully. They did love each other, that much was evident. He supposed they loved him too, in a way. "Point is, they'll get over this, too. It might just take them a bit more time." Felix smiled, squeezing Chan's hand softly. "In the end, all that matters is that we have each other, right?"

Felix looked at him, a reassuring smile on his face. Chan didn't want to question his faith, but he couldn't help but feel there was a difference. There was them, with their little bubble of love and courting, and there was him. He didn't have the luxury of their forgiveness like Felix did.

Considering everything, maybe he didn't deserve it, either.

He cleared his throat, blinking the thought away.

"I gotta go, Lix. Thank you again for the cookies. Tell Seungmin I said thanks, too."

"Tell him yourself," Felix nagged, and Chan ruffled his hair just to annoy him.

The tupperware kept his hand warm all the way home.

Changbin was already in Chan's studio when he walked in. He was writing lyrics on his phone, but he lifted his head to greet Chan when he came in. Chan mustered up a smile for him, even as his fingers drummed out an anxious rhythm on the side of his thigh.

Changbin hasn't brought up the subject of Chan's subgender or the members' apparent relationship in the time that's passed, though he's had plenty of opportunities to do so since. He had a feeling Changbin was waiting for him to make the first move on that front.

As for Jisung... Still radio silence from his end. Today would be the first time they'd have to work together and try to make something, just the three of them. To say Chan was nervous would be an understatement. He even brought Felix's tupperware of cookies as a peace offering.

"How's your hand?" Changbin nodded towards Chan's wrist. Chan frowned, confused - he looked down to find he was cradling it, absently kneading at his pulse point. His scent gland tingled, and he panicked for a moment before remembering he did remember to put his scent blockers on before leaving the house (only after Jeongin caught him in the kitchen, mug halfway to his mouth, and massaged more cream into his wrist, which he once again didn't realize was twinging. Chan had no idea how he kept noticing).

"It's fine," He released his wrist abruptly, settling into his usual seat and pulling out his laptop. "What are you working on?"

"Not sure yet. I honestly don't know if I even wanna release this one - might just keep it for myself."

"Oh, one of those?" Chan smiled wryly. He'd seen one or two of Changbin's unreleased songs, ones he didn't even necessarily record. Songs that were more of an excuse to put thought to paper (or screen) than anything else. "A lot on your mind?"

"You could say that, yeah."

The door opened, revealing a frazzled, tired-looking Jisung. Chan smiled, tight-lipped. Jisung nodded, his eyes somewhere to the left of Chan's face, and took a seat on Changbin's other side. Chan cleared his throat.

"So, what do we have?" He focused on his screen, traipsing aimlessly through directories, clicking on one file only to move on to the next. Changbin offered an idea for a theme, and though Jisung seemed as interested in it as Chan was, the conversation was stilted and awkward. Jisung was doing his best to avoid directly speaking to Chan, which left Changbin with the job of trying to make the conversation work, which was entirely unfair to him. Every attempt Chan made to speak to Jisung was brushed off.

It was starting to get on Chan's nerves.

"Jisung, you can't just keep ignoring me."

Jisung's jaw ticked.

"I think this bassline is too heavy, hyung." Jisung addressed Changbin. Chan's right eye twitched.

"Jisung, seriously, how long are you gonna keep this up?"

"That's rich, coming from you." Jisung sneered.

Chan's pulse quickened.

"You're being unreasonable."

"Oh, am I? Changbin-hyung, which is more unreasonable, needing some space from someone who pisses you off, or lying for a fucking decade?" Jisung fumed, his eyes suddenly locked on Chan.

"I didn't lie-"

"Don't gimme that crap. You fucking lied, hyung."

Chan's heart thudded in his chest. His fists clenched, blood rushing in his ears. This was so unfair. He understood being mad, he understood needing space, but letting it affect their work? Their team? He'd never let his personal shit affect their work. He didn't get to adjust to his entire life being turned upside down by his stupid biology, or to disappear until he learned to control his scent. He didn't get to ignore them until he processed the fucking bombshell Felix dropped on him. He didn't get to wallow in how utterly fucking alone it all made him feel, or to be devestated by the fact that his entire team was apparently so deathly fucking scared of him that they'd purposefully left him out for four fucking years, but Jisung wanted to talk about lying? About being pissed?

"If I lied, then you're just as bad, huh? You wanna blame me? Pretend like I'm the only one who had something to hide? You didn't tell me you were dating each other for four years!" Chan shouted. Jisung huffed, his voice raising to match Chan's.

"Yeah, because you would have freaked out about public image and what would it look like and the company-"

"Well someone had to! You weren't the ones fielding questions about the fucking googly eyes you make at Minho every other week-"

"Oh, give me a break, as if they'd ever do anything to their little golden boy-"

"I didn't care about me, I cared about you-"

"If you cared about us you would have told us-"

"Okay, enough!" Changbin's voice thundered above their own, forcing them to quiet down. The air was still in the windowless studio, the padding on the walls swallowing the sounds of Chan and Jisung's panting. If they didn't have to wear scent blockers at work, Chan would probably be choking on burnt sage and ash.

When Changbin spoke, his voice was quiet and steady. "We were barely adults, trying to figure out how to deal with shit nobody prepared us for." He looked at Chan, his eyes softer than his voice. "We were just scared. All of us. That's all there is to it. Both of you need to figure out how to make your peace with that and move on." He looked between them, eyes hardening. "No more screaming like dumb teenagers."

Jisung scoffed and looked away.

Chan closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Changbin was right. Of course he was. Chan couldn't believe he'd let it get so bad that he had to intervene, despite how much he clearly didn't want to.

Jisung's behavior wasn't even anything Chan didn't deserve. He had lied to them. It wasn't fair of him to expect them to just forgive him and act like nothing happened. Fuck, it wasn't fair of him to expect himself to act like nothing happened.

"Hannie..." Chan lifted his gaze to Jisung's, only to find his eyes shining with unshed tears. Guilt scorched its way up his esophagus like heartburn. "Hyung's sorry he shouted at you. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you. Bin is right - I was scared to lose you."

"Why the fuck would you lose us, dumbass?" Josung muttered, swiping at his eyes harshly.

"Yah," Changbin reprimanded softly, but Chan just laughed softly.

"What were you scared of, then?"

Jisung sniffed, not meeting Chan's eyes, and Chan snorted.

"Whatever. Besides, me and Minho-hyung don't make googly eyes at each other-"

"You do." Chan and Changbin chorused.

"Tch. This is a hate crime." Jisung frowned, but the corner of his lips twitched up.

"Would a cookie make you feel better?" Chan offered. Jisung looked at him suspiciously. "Lix and Seungmin made it."

"You should've led with that. Gimme," Jisung made grabby hands in Chan's general direction, eyes still red-rimmed, but no longer watery. Chan passed him the tupperware and turned to look at Changbin.

"Thank you, Bin." He said as sincerely as he could stomach. Changbin just nodded.

For a little while, the only sound in the room was Jisung's crunching.

"So, can we go back to work now?" Changbin pointed at the screen, where an open file waited.

"What about you?" Chan asked, wary. Changbin's eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "Anything you want to... get off your chest?"

Changbin shrugged.

"I'm not mad at you, hyung. Maybe I don't fully understand it, but I don't have to know to forgive you. And I choose to forgive you."

Chan's throat closed up. He swallowed against it, but it was no use. Instead of trying to talk, he just clasped Changbin's shoulder and squeezed, grateful. Changbin seemed to understand him anyway, if his nod was any indication.

"Well," Jisung clapped, breaking the tension, "I want to make an emo rock song."

"Emo rock song it is," Changbin agreed, and they were off.

Chan's phone was buzzing on his nightstand.

He groaned, sleep clinging to his eyelids.

"Hyung!" Jeongin called from behind his door. Chan grumbled some form of response. Jeongin let himself into the room, shaking Chan's shoulder violently. "Hyung, did you see?"

"Mmmwha?" Chan forced his eyes open, meeting Jeongin's frazzled appearance. Chan's phone buzzed on the nightstand again.

"Hyung. We got number one on the Billboard 100 again."

"Thass nice," Chan slurred, his hand going to grab his phone. He scrolled through his notifications - messages in the group chat, messages from the managers... wait.

Chan sat up abruptly, eyes wide. "We-"

"Yes!"

"We got number one-"

"Yes, hyung! Again! We broke our own record!"

"Holy shit," Chan breathed, heart hammering in his chest. Jeongin jumped around excitedly, shouting just to shout. Chan's eyes were glued to his phone. His brain hasn't caught up with reality yet.

Jeongin's phone rang, and he rushed to pick it up, immediately putting it on speaker.

"Iyen-ah," Hyunjin's warm voice spilled from the device. "Chan-hyung isn't picking up the phone-"

"Yeah, he's here, I woke him up," Jeongin rambled.

"Ah, okay. Anyway we should do something, right? The company said something about a celebratory dinner, but we should also just do something as the eight of us, right?" Hyunjin's words started coming faster, his excitement palpable.

"Yeah, yes, absolutely," Chan agreed. "What did you have in mind?"

"Let's just all meet up at our place. We can order food, and Changbin-hyung and I will buy some beer and soju."

"When should we be there, hyung?"

"Umm..." Hyunjin deliberated, before directing the same question to Changbin. "Hyung says nine, after the company thing."

"Got it. Hyung and I will bring some stuff too."

Hyunjin made a little sound of excitement before hanging up the phone unceremoniously. Jeongin sat down heavily next to Chan, who still wasn't really processing.

"It just keeps getting crazier."

"Mhm."

"Hyung," Jeongin suddenly turned to him. Chan made an inquiring noise. "I really love you."

Chan flushed.

"Mm. Me too, Jeonginnie."

Jeongin grinned, his hair sticking every which way. He looked a little crazy, but in a cute way.

"We should probably get ready."

"Yep."

The day passed by in a blur of congratulations and messages and making videos thanking Stay. They barely had twenty minutes to wash up and pass by a convenience store before they had to head out to Changbin and Hyunjin's apartment. Jeongin exited the shower in nothing but a towel, the scent of fresh berries trailing behind him. Chan took it to mean he was skipping the scent blockers, as they usually did when meeting outside of work.

Chan spent more time than he should've in front of the bathroom mirror after his own shower, a pack of scent blockers in one hand, contemplating.

He thought of what Hajoon said, and of his own health. He thought of Felix, and of that day in the practice room. He thought of Jeongin, and the pleased smile on his face whenever Chan let him scent him.

The choice to forgo his scent blockers seemed more rational the more he thought about it. The pros seemed to far outweigh the cons, and yet, the idea of his scent being discernible to everyone around him made his hands shake. The fear that they'd see right through him, read every single one of his emotions, paralyzed him. He'd spent years working on his expressions and body language, so that his thoughts and emotions remained his own. Trading that privacy away for the sake of his hormonal balance or whatever felt like betraying himself. He thought again about the time he forgot his blockers, and what Seungmin said. What Minho said, later that day.

In the end, he decided to give it a try, and put the blockers back in their place in his bedside drawer.

He and Jeongin were the first to arrive, which really shouldn't have surprised him. Changbin met them at the door, accepting their meager offering of fried chicken and a six-pack of beer gratefully. Chan knew he would pay for whatever they decided to order later that night anyway, so he wasn't too worried about it.

They settled on the couch. Chan's leg started bouncing the second his ass touched the seat.

Jeongin sent him a concerned look, but Chan waved him away.

He couldn't help it.

This is the first time he would be willingly going scent-blocker free in front of all the members. He had no idea what his scent was going to do, or how they'd react. Saying he was nervous was an understatement.

Changbin groaned as he took his seat in one of the armchairs, an orange blob of a thing that Hyunjin must've picked up on one of his impulsive furniture shopping trips.

"Is that even comfortable?" Chan laughed. Changbin turned to answer him, but paused, just for a second. He blinked at Chan like he was recalibrating, then gave him a smile like nothing happened.

"It's actually really nice, yeah."

Chan pulled out his phone, wondering if he had enough time to quickly get his dailies done, but just then Hyunjin emerged from the shower engulfed in steam, hair completely wet. The smell in the apartment, which already reminded Chan of the holidays with Changbin's gingerbread scent, suddenly turned spicier. Chan got the feeling Hyunjin was excited about tonight, or maybe nervous too, the usual vanilla in his scent almost completely drowned out by the cardamom.

"Did you bring flowers?" He asked, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

"No?" Jeongin tilted his head.

"It smells like..." Hyunjin sniffed the air again, as if searching, before his eyes snapped to Chan.

Chan's ears warmed.

"...Oh. Never mind," Hyunjin settled, and made his way to the other armchair - a normal looking one, upholstered with brown leather. It was an interesting combination, even if Chan couldn't imagine living in such a mismatched space.

"Everybody looked really pleased today," Hyunjin smiled, and Changbin nodded in agreement. "I think it's nice that all the effort we put in is paid back."

Chan supposed that was a nice way of looking at it. He had mixed feelings about it all - on one hand, it felt incredibly gratifying for their work to be acknowledged, to achieve the kind of things he could only dream about as a trainee. But on the other hand, he couldn't help but feel like they were creating an expectation. The records they've broken, the amount of times they've been at the top, their award streak... What if they couldn't keep up? What if they couldn't keep outdoing themselves? They've all had their moments of burnout, of fatigue. What if their bodies, their minds, just couldn't handle everything anymore?

Jeongin's hand landed on his thigh, shaking him out of his thoughts. Chan looked over to him, but he was talking to Hyunjin about something. He took a deep breath, and allowed himself to be on his phone for a bit. They wouldn't take it personally - they had a whole evening ahead of them anyway.

Minho arrived together with Seungmin, which Chan was vaguely confused about - he figured after the company meetings they'd each go to their apartments - but he didn't give it too much thought. Both of them went through the same routine Changbin and Hyunjin did - sniffing the air in confusion before tracing the new scent back to Chan, then pretending nothing happened - but Seungmin placed himself on Chan's other side, sitting closer than usual. It was nice, Chan couldn't deny it, even if it was just to satisfy Seungmin's curiosity.

Minho looked at Changbin intently.

"What?"

Minho gestured at what he was sitting on.

"There's another chair right there."

"Is that how you're treating your hyung?"

Changbin got up with a sigh and went to get another chair, while Minho settled into his seat smugly. Chan watched it all with a smile on his face. He hoped they never stopped being silly.

Felix and Jisung arrived soon after, looking a bit disheveled. Ah, Chan thought. That would explain the odd pairing. Distantly, Chan thought to himself that nobody seemed capable of getting their hands away from Felix. Or maybe it was the other way around. It wouldn't surprise Chan - Felix might look like a little angel, but he wasn't all that good at self control when it came to things he really wanted.

Seungmin plastered himself to Chan's side and sniffed loudly, which Chan tried to ignore, even if it made his face feel a little warm.

The minute Felix and Jisung stepped in, their eyes zeroed in on Chan. He waited for them to connect the dots and pretend nothing's changed it like everyone else.

"You're not wearing blockers!" Felix exclaimed, eyes were wide in excitement, and Chan shrunk back in his seat, sheepish. Felix rushed over to the couch, then leaned down to press his nose to the side of Chan's neck not occupied by Seungmin.

"Lix-"

"You smell really sweet," Felix mumbled, like he was making a note of it in his mind. "What does it remind me of? It's so good." He sniffed a few more times before turning to Jisung. "What does hyung smell like? I can't tell, it's driving me crazy."

"Felix, can we not?" Chan squirmed in his seat, becoming overwhelmed with all the attention.

"Oh," Felix blinked rapidly. "Sorry, hyung."

"No worries, just. Y'know."

Felix gave him a short smile, then took Jisung's hand and led him to the kitchen.

Conversation slowly picked up around Chan, who tried his best to calm down. Seungmin rubbed his cheek against Chan's neck softly, wrapping them both in the comforting scent of sweet chocolate, and Chan's heart settled.

"Thank you, Seungminnie," He whispered, and Seungmin just hummed in response. Felix and Jisung soon returned from the kitchen, tea and beer in hand, respectively. Chan listened with half an ear as they joined in on the different conversations in the room. He was content to just listen, their voices and scents helping him decompress. The way they all blended together was interesting - he could imagine their voices layered on top of each other, harmonizing or passing from one to another, from years of having done just that on his computer, but the way their scents combined was always new to him. Sometimes it left a sweet taste in his mouth, when Hyunjin or Jeongin were particularly happy. Other times it felt like he was hiking somewhere, when Minho or Felix got excited, or like he was in the middle of a bakery when Jisung and Changbin bantered, or when Changbin and Seungmin teased each other.

Right now, there was excitement in the air. He could feel it on his tongue - sweet cherries mixing with chocolate, cardamom and sage adding spice, and eucalyptus wrapping around the scent of freshwater, and underneath it all the smell of a bonfire, an undercurrent of comfort through it all. Like a picnic in the middle of the forest.

Chan smiled to himself, pleased with the image in his head.

They ordered an absurd amount of food - fried chicken and ramyeon and sushi. Chan got himself pho, just because he could.

"Let's play truth or dare!" Jisung piped up as they were eating. Various groans echoed throughout the room.

"Don't you think we've had enough truths for a while?" Seungmin raised a sarcastic eyebrow.

"Okay, fine, never have I ever, then."

"That's more of the same!" Jeongin protested.

"Yeah, but you can make that into a drinking game!" Jisung insisted. The members all exchanged a few looks between each other, before shrugging and accepting Jisung's offer. They started shuffling around in their seats, trying to form a circle, before Changbin suggested they all just sit on the floor instead. It reminded Chan of their first dorm, gathering around in one room and playing stupid games as a bonding exercise.

Chan settled on the corner of the plush grey rug, with Changbin on his right and Jeongin on his left.

They played a few rounds of rock-paper-scissors which Felix lost, making him the first to go. He took a moment to think to himself before finally landing on:

"Never have I ever drank coffee for the flavor."

Almost everyone put a finger down. Hyunjin was next, taking out half of the group by claiming he'd never played LoL. Jisung continued the streak by admitting he'd never cleaned his bedframe, which he'd only recently found out he's supposed to do. Chan put a finger down in mild disgust, though he couldn't say he was surprised.

Soon enough, most of them lost, taking sips of varying sizes of their drinks. Jisung kept drinking even when he wasn't out of the game, to the point he was already slightly tipsy, his ears red and eyes shiny. At some point they had to switch to giving each other missions when they lost, seeing as they ran out of booze.

"This is boring!" Jisung whined after losing again, thanks to Jeongin claiming he'd never gotten a tattoo before. "We should say stuff we don't know about each other."

"Like what? I think we know everything there is to know," Hyunjin laughed.

"I don't know! Like... Never have I ever worn a collar during sex!"

Seungmin and Felix both put a finger down, Seungmin avoiding anyone's eyes. Jisung gestured towards them, like see?

Hyunjin snorted, but agreed.

"Here, Changbin-hyung, you go now." Jisung nudged Changbin, who blinked in surprise.

"Umm... Never have I ever had sex with an omega."

"Ah hyung, I said things we don't know about each other!" Jisung loudly complained, but it did give Chan an idea.

"Well, never have I ever had sex with an alpha."

Jisung huffed, but dutifully put his finger down along with everyone else. Chan knew this - or, well, he could've deduced it, what with the way they kept magnetizing to each other, and the fact that they were all young alphas in their twenties - but it still left him feeling... unbalanced. Like some part of his brain still hasn't caught up to the fact that this is definitely real, and not just a fantasy resurfacing from where he'd shoved it into a corner of his brain he refused to revisit.

Unbidden, he thought of that day in the studio with Changbin, now months ago. Chan asking what Jisung and Minho were up to, and Changbin saying or, practicing, and either way Hyunjinnie will join them soon, and much to his panic, his brain conjured up the image of the three of them. Tangled bodies on the floor, their reflections in the mirror, sweaty and wanting and somehow also laughing because Chan was pretty certain Hyunjin was the type to laugh during sex-

He felt his face heat.

"Aigoo, our Channie is flustered," Minho cooed, and Chan shot him a glare.

"Moving on, Jeonginnie," He announced, voice tight, though he still gave in to the urge to tug at his ear when their eyes were no longer on him.

Jeongin hummed, thinking for a moment.

"Never have I ever had sex at the company building." He eyed Minho and Jisung.

"Wha- Hey!" Jisung protested, though he quickly put a finger down. Minho did the same without a fuss, though he did look vaguely smug. Chan cast his eyes around, curious - Hyunjin put a finger down, cackling in what was mostly embarrassment, and Seungmin did as well, looking not much different than Minho.

"Oh, gross!" Jeongin fake-gagged. "You all are disgusting, that is our work place!"

"Okay, Mr. I almost came in my pants watching hyung do a body roll-"

"Point taken shut the fuck up," Jeongin hissed at Seungmin, who only gave him a toothy grin in response.

"Wait, which hyung?" Jisung asked, his tone almost urgent.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Okay, next," Minho droned, putting a stop to the chaos before it could unfold.

"Never have I ever had a heat." Seungmin smirked at Chan, who rolled his eyes and put a finger down. Next was Minho, who tapped his chin in thought for a moment.

"Never have I ever masturbated in another member's bed."

"That is such a lie, hyung," Seungmin protested, to which Minho amended, with a smile-

"Without him knowing."

Chan's entire face flamed. He put his finger down as discreetly as he could physically manage. Jeongin must've caught it out of the corner of his eye, because his neck suddenly turned red, and his scent flared, sweet, heavy cherry, before he forcefully reigned it in.

Chan cleared his throat.

"Oh!" Hyunjin clapped. "I have a great one. Never have I ever masturbated to a video game character!" He looked at Felix, who only smiled sheepishly.

Chan put another finger down while looking at Felix and trying to avoid looking at anyone else.

"Wait, you only have two down? What?" Jisung swayed indignantly.

"I guess I don't do a lot of stuff," Felix laughed. Chan looked at his own hand, only two fingers still left up.

"Um," Felix thought for a long moment, looking around. "Never have I ever... painted another member naked," He wagged his eyebrows at Hyunjin, who snorted as he put a finger down, clearly trying not to be embarrassed.

"Okay, Jisungie's next."

"Never have I ever come untouched." Jisung said in one breath, as though he'd been holding it in.

"You clearly haven't been trying hard enough." Hyunjin teased, but put a finger down, along with Minho, and Changbin, who looked slightly flustered about it. Chan, whose face only just cooled down, considered.

"What are we counting as `untouched'?"

"Without touching your dick, specifically," Jisung explained.

Chan put a finger down, and it felt like all their eyes were on him as he did so. The way they looked at him made a shiver run up his spine. Their scents sweetened, like Jeongin's had before, and Chan didn't want to think about what that meant. About the other times their scents sweetened just like that.

No one spoke for a moment, their eyes boring into him as though waiting for him to justify himself.

He gulped, smiling nervously.

"Y'know, omega," He said weakly. The air in the room thickened, becoming heavy with - something, their scents becoming dizzyingly heady. Chan's mouth opened instinctively, trying in vain to avoid inhaling too deeply.

Finally, someone cleared their throat, breaking the odd tension.

As Changbin pondered yet again what to say, Chan swallowed. He was suddenly nervous at the thought of getting a mission, which was ridiculous - it was just a game. Still, one finger left.

"Never have I ever worn a skirt."

Chan appreciated the attempt at calming down the atmosphere, as feeble as it was, but that was it - his last finger down.

"Ah-ha! Hyung finally gets a mission!" Jisung crowed victoriously. Chan had managed to dodge missions on technicalities and frankly just by being boring for the majority of the game, but his luck had clearly run out. Hyunjin clapped in excitement, and Felix whooped. "Okay, okay, wait, we need to confer," Jisung motioned everyone to come closer to him, though only Felix and Hyunjin did. Jisung didn't seem to notice as he launched into furious whispering. Felix and Hyunjin, his captive audience, nodded or shook their hands in tandem, clearly providing their opinions rather than any suggestions.

"Alright! The council has come to a decision!" Jisung cleared his throat, and Chan couldn't help but think he was cute, his hair ruffled, cheeks splotchy and puffed out. "Channie-hyung, your mission is to kiss Minho-hyung."

Never mind. Chan took everything back - Jisung wasn't cute. He was a horrible, evil man. Did he think it was funny? Why would he do that? Weren't they all dating each other? Wouldn't that be cheating? Or just, inappropriate? And why would he make Minho go through that? Out of all of them, Chan imagined Minho would want to kiss him the least. The only member who might want to kiss Chan less was Hyunjin, who was still treating Chan with an upsetting amount of professionalism.

Chan laughed, the same old hurt stinging in his chest, then gave Minho an over-exaggerated wink and blew him a kiss. Minho only gave him a weird smirk in return.

"Ah, hyung!" Jisung whined, "A real kiss! That wasn't a real kiss!" He thrashed in place, leg kicking out childishly, hands curled into fists and all. Chan chuckled awkwardly. Minho patted his thigh, gesturing for Chan to come over.

Chan swallowed.

"What," was all he could say. Minho tilted his head at him, like he was inspecting a particularly dumb animal who had gotten itself stuck somewhere and couldn't get out. Chan certainly felt pinned under his gaze.

Minho lifted a single eyebrow. His scent grew stronger, sharp pine surrounding Chan. It was like he reached across the room and pulled Chan in without moving a single muscle. Everything inside him ached to follow that scent to its source, to find what was waiting on the other side, and it had nothing to do with the pheromones Minho was pumping out and everything to do with Chan's own insufferable heart.

He stumbled onto his feet, as though drunk. He stepped forward as if tugged by an invisible force, feeling jittery, too big for his skin. If this was an elaborate joke, he'd probably die.

After what felt like a small eternity, he made it to Minho, who looked up at him expectantly.

"Do I-"

Before he could finish, Minho tapped the backs of his knees, making him fold and land perfectly seated on Minho's plush thighs.

Chan's eyes darted between Minho's, his pulse jackrabbiting. There was a soft challenge there - not demanding, but almost anticipating. Waiting for him to make the first move.

Chan swallowed, licked his lips, shifted a bit, then leaned a tiny bit closer.

Minho stayed still.

Were they really doing this? Did Minho really want this? Was he just tolerating it? Chan was so confused - he didn't want to cross any lines. Was he supposed to just peck Minho on the lips? Did it mean anything? What if they were just doing it for the challenge and it meant nothing? What if Minho didn't like it? What if Chan did?

He couldn't take it anymore. With a huff at his own uncertainty, Chan surged forward, tilting his head and pressing his lips to Minho, opening them just slightly to envelop Minho's top lip between his own. Minho, to his immense relief, readily reciprocated, his mouth moving softly against Chan's. Chan grew bold, swiping his tongue across the seam of Minho's lips, who easily opened up for him, swallowing down the small, embarrassing noises escaping Chan. His hands found their way to Minho's shoulders, holding on for dear life, while Minho's own hands traveled down Chan's back to cup his ass, giving it an appreciative squeeze and smiling against his lips.

It all made Chan quite dizzy.

He pulled away, panting for air. The air in the room turned somehow sweeter, practically candy rotting his teeth.

He blinked at Minho, who looked far too serene. With heroic effort, he resisted the urge to duck his head and hide in Minho's chest, his face absolutely flaming.

"We should play spin the bottle." Hyunjin blurted.

"Okay-" Chan tried to get up, but somehow found himself maneuvered by Minho so that his back was to Minho's front, sitting firmly in the other's lap, Minho's arms locked around his midriff, not exactly tight, but - there.

Heat curled in his lower belly.

He should move Minho's hands, probably.

Instead, he slumped back against Minho, feeling the other's smirk against the back of his neck.

Chan didn't know what to think. What exactly was this to them? Was it still just a game? Were they just trying to find new buttons to push, having exhausted all the old ones?

Minho caressed Chan's tummy in slow, measured strokes, sending a fresh wave of arousal through him. His hole clenched around nothing, and he grimaced. How pathetically desperate. Behind him, Minho scratched his nape gently with his teeth, which did nothing to quell the fire he was stoking with his hands. He trailed his lips slowly from Chan's neck to the shell of his ear, his breath puffing warm against the cartilage. Chan's eyes were opened, but he wasn't really seeing anything - his thoughts were loud and incessant. Will Minho ever hold him like this again? Will they all just look back at this moment tomorrow and cringe? Laugh it off as too much adrenaline mixed with too much booze?

"Stop thinking, Chan-ah."

Chan shivered. Minho's voice was soft, sweet like melted sugar, but it left no room for argument. Despite himself, Chan relaxed even further into Minho's hold, his eyes nearly closing.

Every single pair of eyes in the room was locked onto them.

"Carry on." Minho said, completely nonchalant, which baffled Chan. Did Jisung go through this? If so, Chan would like to know how he survived. He looked at Jisung through half lidded eyes, hoping for some reassurance, or at the very least commiseration, but he found nothing of the sort. He didn't know the look Jisung was fixing them with - didn't know if it was jealousy, or anger, but it was just as heated. Deliriously, Chan imagined the tips of his hair catching flame first, before the rest of him burnt into a crisp.

Minho's arms tightened around him.

"What did I say?" He muttered into Chan's ear. Chan exhaled shakily, barely holding back a whimper. Minho hummed impatiently in his ear.

"Stop- you said stop thinking," Chan stuttered, absolutely mortified at the wetness steadily gathering in his boxers. He felt Minho's dick twitch against his ass, which was - god, Chan couldn't think about that right now or he'd combust.

"Good boy." Minho purred, and Chan just barely held himself back from whining, blood rushing to his dick as even more slick leaked from his cunt.

He was so hot, it felt like he was sweating through his clothes - he felt everyone's eyes on him and it just made everything worse, made his skin itch and his hands clammy and he wanted out, wanted to curl up into a ball and hide until up was up and down was down again.

Minho's scent wrapped around him like steam from a hot shower - no longer sharp, but comforting. A forest at sundown, a clear lake reflecting the last rays of sun.

Chan was maybe drunk. He didn't even know if it was the booze or the scent, but the tips of his fingers were tingling, and he was dizzy.

He lost track of time, for a bit - at one point Minho's chin came to rest on top of his head. Someone's hand wrapped around his ankle, large and warm, but then Minho rumbled behind him, and the owner of the hand took it back. The scent of a smoky campfire joined for a little bit, as Changbin swapped places with Hyunjin at Minho's side.

"Hyung," Changbin's voice was low and soft. Chan's vocal chords weren't really listening to his brain at that moment, but he forced his eyes in Changbin's direction. "Hey hyung, you okay?"

"Mm." Chan's mouth was full of drool. He forced himself to swallow it down before attempting to talk. "I'm good, Bin. Think I had t'much t'drink," He slurred slightly, he could tell, but his brain was coming more online the more he forced himself to talk.

Changbin hummed in a way that sounded unconvinced, and, completely unrelatedly, Chan's eyes started watering. He felt Minho's rumble in his lungs, louder than before, like a warning, and Changbin answered with his own rumble, and Chan's lip started trembling like he wasn't in any sort of control over his body, which was horrible, and then they both stopped.

"Oh, Channie-hyung," Changbin soothed, "We're sorry, we didn't mean to upset you,"

"You didn't-" Chan stuttered, trying to get his face back under control. Changbin exchanged a glance with Minho over Chan's head, eyes round with worry. "It's fine, I'm fine-" He shifted in place, trying to get out of Minho's grip.

"I think you've been Minho-hyung's teddy bear long enough," Changbin said pointedly, but Minho's arms only tightened around him.

"Minho-ya," Chan mumbled, "Let go of me, please."

Minho's arms shot away from his body like he got burnt. Chan stood up on shaky legs and stumbled to the bathroom.

Chan splashed water on his face, refusing to meet his own reflection in the mirror. The fog in his head cleared, if only slightly. His stomach hurt, clenched with anxiety, and confusion clouded his thoughts. He must've forgotten to lock the door, because there was a short knock and then Hyunjin pushed his way in, closing the door behind him and leaning back on it. Chan looked at him, waiting. Hyunjin hesitated.

"Hey, hyung."

"Hey, Hyunjinnie."

Chan was surprised at the sound of his own voice - scratchy and rough, like he hadn't used it in days. Hyunjin's adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

"Minho-hyung's in pre-rut." He blurted. Some of the pieces in Chan's mind clicked, and he nodded. "Changbin-hyung is lecturing him a little bit," he smiled, cheeks bunching up cutely. He was blushing slightly, Chan noticed. The bathroom light made him look paler than he was, the redness of his cheeks stark against his skin. This was the longest he'd spent alone with Chan in over a week. "You smell..." He trailed off. This was the most he's said to Chan directly since that stupid fucking dinner.

"Why are you here, Hyunjin?" Chan was tired. More than he'd even realized. His limbs felt heavy.

"Channie-hyung," Hyunjin straightened, his scent spiking a little - warm vanilla. Chan's mouth watered despite himself. "Can I kiss you?"

Chan's heart thumped.

His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Could he-? Was he still scent-drunk on Minho's pre-rut pheromones?

"What?" Was all he could say.

"Can I," Hyunjin pointed at himself, "Kiss you?" His finger came to rest right in the middle of Chan's sternum. Chan, dumbfounded, looked down. Hyunjin flicked his finger up, nudging Chan's chin back up. "Is that a yes?" He smiled, hopeful, though Chan could see hesitation clearly in his eyes. It didn't feel real. Hyunjin wanted to kiss him? Why? He'd seemed so upset with Chan barely an hour ago, avoiding talking to him directly, barely looking at him. Wasn't he still? Did he forgive Chan? Was he testing him? Was he giving Chan a chance to earn his forgiveness?

Chan licked his lips as his eyes darted to Hyunjin's. Plush, plum-stained, caught between his teeth. So often he's dreamt about this exact moment. How could it be real?

How could he say no?

"Yeah. Yes."

Hyunjin brushed back Chan's hair, fingers cold on his forehead, then touched softly under his eyes. His hand cupped Chan's cheek, beckoning him forward, and then his lips were on Chan's, soft and a little wet.

Chan's heart nearly beat out of his chest.

This was too much for one night.

Hyunjin pulled away, and Chan made a noise low in his throat, chasing after Hyunjin's lips.

"Ah, hyung, you're so cute," Hyunjin smiled wide enough to fold his eyes into happy crescents, cheeks bunching up, his face puffy from ramyeon and booze. He was so beautiful, even with his skin washed in the bathroom's fluorescent light. Chan suddenly found himself wishing they didn't share their first kiss in a bathroom.

"Do you feel better now?" He asked, eyebrow cocked a little condescendingly, and it really shouldn't have been doing whatever it was doing to Chan's insides, which were slowly stirring in interest.

Chan nodded weakly.

"Good," Hyunjin leaned in again, pushing Chan back against the sink, and this time Chan could follow the exact trajectory of his lips as they pressed into his, his nose as it brushed against Chan's. This close, he could smell the cardamom in Hyunjin's scent, the way the bitter spice contrasted with the sweet vanilla, getting stronger by the second. Hyunjin's lips moved against his and he reminded himself to respond, to make it good, to make him want to stay. Hyunjin sighed, tilting his head to the side and parting Chan's lips with his teeth, barely biting, before licking into his mouth slowly. Chan moaned weakly, his hands clenching the porcelain behind him. He was barely aware of his body, of the fact a flimsy door was all that stood between them and six other members- Hyunjin kissed hungrily, demandingly, so different to Minho it was giving Chan whiplash.

Hyunjin leaned back, eyes studying Chan's face.

"So cute..." He shook his head, and Chan squirmed. He didn't love being called cute, but he supposed he could make an exception for Hyunjin. Chan cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably against the sink.

Hyunjin just kept looking at him.

Chan's ears warmed. He looked away, unable to bear the heat of those eyes, but Hyunjin didn't let him get far - he stepped forward, caging Chan in, his thigh a hair's breadth away from where Chan was starting to show way too much interest.

Chan tried to steady his breathing.

"So sweet for me, Channie-hyung." Hyunjin pecked him on the lips. "So pretty, too. Lips all pouty like this..." He pecked him again, and again, and then lingered, nibbling on Chan's bottom lip like it was his favorite jelly, hands coming up to cradle Chan's face, playing with his hair, longer now than ever before. Hyunjin shifted slightly, and Chan tensed as the movement brought attention to his hardening cock. "Oh?" Hyunjin purred, breath ghosting along Chan's mouth, his fingers pulling Chan's hair slightly as his scent turned sharper, more spice than vanilla now.

"It's, I-" Chan choked on his words as Hyunjin shifted again, heat flaring in his belly. He squeezed his eyes shut, his face flaming. If he waited long enough, maybe the shame would finally consume him.

"Oh, you're so red!" Hyunjin exclaimed, delighted for whatever reason, and Chan's hands tightened around the bowl of the sink. He's never had anyone kissing him like this. Touching him like this. It wasn't fair of Hyunjin to make fun of him for... reacting.

Hyunjin pressed a kiss to the hinge of his jaw, and Chan looked up at the ceiling. He was so confused by everything. He still hadn't recovered from Minho, and now Hyunjin was all over him like they'd been doing this for years. Which - he has been, with the others. Or, at least, Chan imagined he did. It's not like any of them really told him anything. He imagined Hyunjin must've thought he didn't have a right to know, considering what he kept from them. Otherwise, why hasn't he said anything?

"Wait - Hyunjin," Chan pressed a hand to Hyunjin's shoulder, pushing him back so he could look at him properly, "Are you- what is this? Are we fine? Are you still mad at me?"

"I'm not thinking about that right now," Hyunjin leaned forward, a man on a mission.

"What are you thinking about, then?"

Hyunjin hummed, and though he tried, Chan just couldn't keep him away. Hyunjin bit his lip, pulling it between his own teeth. Chan exhaled shakily.

"I'm thinking about the way you looked in Minho-hyung's lap tonight, so pretty and pink..." He moved closer, teeth grazing the shell of Chan's ear. "I'm thinking about the way you smell right now, sweet like candy..." His hand cupped the side of Chan's neck, covering his scent gland. "I'm thinking about how much I want you," He breathed into Chan's ear, "That's all I really care about right now."

Before Chan could respond, Hyunjin moved again, his kisses trailing lower, around Chan's scent-gland, turning open-mouthed and wet, down to his collarbone, before shoving his hands under Chan's shirt and pushing it up and over his head. Chan went along with him, completely disoriented - his head was spinning, a jumbled mess of thoughts. Hyunjin was still upset with him, but he wanted him? So he was willing to forgive Chan for as long as it took to make out with him? Will he go back to being mad again after they're done?

Hyunjin snapped him out of his thoughts with a soft bite to his right pec.

"Always teasing us, walking around shirtless. I fucking love your tits."

"They're not-" Chan groaned as Hyunjin closed his lips around his nipple, grazing it just slightly with his teeth then lapping at it with his tongue. He pressed his thigh to Chan's front, and Chan grinded forward instinctively.

"What was that, Channie?" He smirked, and it was so unfair of him to look so hot while making Chan feel so small. A dull pain thrummed in his chest, but he was helpless to the way Hyunjin's lips felt on his skin and the welcome pressure on his dick. He didn't know what came after, he barely even knew what was going on right now, but he couldn't bear the thought of disappointing Hyunjin again, of giving him another reason to be upset. The least he could do was let him take what he wanted.

Hyunjin finally pulled away from his nipple, taking Chan by the wrist and pulling his hand to rest on Hyunjin's hip, pressing down slightly. Chan got the hint and kept his hand there as Hyunjin trailed butterfly kisses back up to Chan's face, ending with a peck to his nose.

Chan instinctively hunched.

Hyunjin shuffled back, his eyes glued to Chan's crotch. His hand came to rest on Chan's sternum.

"Tell me to stop, yeah?" He huffed, and Chan nodded, as though he would ever ask such a thing. Hyunjin smirked, tongue poking out between his teeth. "How could we have ever been scared of you, huh? You're a harmless little puppy." He surged forward and kissed Chan before he could even think of a reply, though his chest pulsed in pain at the words, even as his dick twitched, his heart not knowing where to pump blood first. Hyunjin's hand traveled down, caressing the planes of Chan's stomach and landing on his waistband, a hair's breadth away from where he was straining against the front of his sweats. His fingers slowly pulled them down as his other hand joined in the effort, and Chan still had enough brain capacity to lean away from the sink to help shimmy them off. The drag of them was rough against his dick, but he sighed in relief when they were finally off, his cock bouncing up, the head leaving a shiny patch of precum against his lower abdomen. The air of the room felt cold against his exposed, wet cunt, lips flushed and swollen.

"Fuck..." Hyunjin breathed, leaning back to get a better look, his eyes bouncing between Chan's cock and his pussy. Chan felt hot all over, tensing against the urge to squirm under Hyunjin's scrutiny. Hyunjin's scent thickened enough that Chan could taste it on his tongue, rich and nearly suffocating.

Hyunjin just kept staring, completely still save for the breaths steadily expanding and contracting his ribcage. Chan huffed, impatient, but Hyunjin still didn't move. He shifted his hips slightly, but it made no difference - Hyunjin was like a statue.

Was he disgusted? Was it not what he expected? Maybe he realized it wasn't worth it - he was too upset with Chan after all, thinking of all the times Chan had lied to him. Or maybe he suddenly remembered Chan was his leader, his coworker - or maybe he was just ugly, to be entirely honest he'd never seen many other omega pussies in his life, maybe he was exceptionally gross and he never even knew - maybe Hyunjin was trying to think of a way to let him down gently, to get out of the room before he did something he regretted -

"Hyunjin," Chan whined, then clamped his mouth shut in mortification. Horribly, his eyes felt a little wet. Hyunjin's eyes snapped up to his, rounding in shock.

Hyunjin pressed a hand against his own crotch, hissing at the pressure.

"You're driving me crazy," Hyunjin complained, then wrapped his hand around Chan's shaft and started stroking him. Chan's eyes rolled up to the back of his head, all his focus on keeping his hips from bucking into Hyunjin's hold. Not ugly then, or at least not enough to turn Hyunjin off - Chan's thoughts scattered to the wind when he felt Hyunjin's hand squeeze the head of his cock, gathering the precum gathered there and spreading it down to the base. Chan grit his teeth, pleasure making him shiver. Hyunjin's other hand made its way to the back of Chan's thigh, pushing it up and lifting Chan just enough that his ass was resting on the counter, his feet in the air.

Chan gasped, hand tightening on Hyunjin's hip for balance as slick trickled from his cunt at the display of strength. His knees parted to allow Hyunjin to stand between them, all the while stroking him in a steady rhythm.

Hyunjin's free hand came to rest on Chan's thigh, slightly shaking. Chan's muscles instinctively tensed, and Hyunjin kneaded them gently, soothing. He leaned forward, capturing Chan's lips with his own again, messy and uncoordinated and more breath than anything else, and Chan's entire body felt overheated with it, his nerve endings tingling as his cock drooled. His hand tightened dangerously on Hyunjin's hip, and he forced himself to loosen the hold. Hyunjin bit his lip, the sting sharp enough to have Chan recoiling slightly, his head almost hitting the mirror behind him.

Hyunjin's hand climbed higher on his thigh, tickling his v-line and making Chan jerk away before Hyunjin pinned him down, just enough to make sure he wasn't moving, and something in Chan's core twisted, sharp and addicting. Chan nodded - he'll stay put, he understands - and Hyunjin's hand continued its path downwards, curious fingers trailing feather-light touches against his pussy, and it felt so much different than when Chan did it, sending sparks skittering across his skin. He moaned, panting, shaking with the effort of keeping still, his hand clenching the porcelain so hard he was scared it'd cramp. Hyunjin kept on stroking him with the other hand as he played with Chan's folds, gathering the slick there and rubbing it between his fingers, expression fascinated.

"So wet..." He murmured, then pressed careful fingers against Chan once more, probing gently until he breached his vagina. Chan gasped, tightening reflexively around Hyunjin's fingers. "Oh," Hyunjin exhaled, his other hand stilling as he experimentally thrust his fingers into Chan, the friction just this side of painful. Chan's mouth hung open, his tongue lolling out, but he had no presence of mind to care, on the verge of begging Hyunjin to go deeper. "So tight, Channie... Is it always like this?" His eyes flicked up to meet Chan's for a moment, though Chan's eyes were almost completely closed, before locking back onto where his fingers were disappearing into Chan. Slowly, he thrust deeper, the muscle giving way to his deft fingers, and Chan slumped back, like a puppet with its strings cut. Hyunjin's other hand went to his own pants, finally pushing them down and pulling his own cock out, and Chan scrounged together every single shred of focus he could muster to look, to commit everything to memory.

Hyunjin's dick was long, curved upwards slightly, flushed and leaking. He spit into his hand and stepped even closer, pushing his dick against Chan's and taking them both in his hand, long fingers closing around their shafts.

"Oh-" Chan moaned, the slick slide of their cocks making everything else evaporate from his mind. Hyunjin's mouth was hanging open, drool gathering on his bottom lip as he kept on thrusting into Chan's cunt, before crooking his fingers just so, pleasure pulling like a hook in Chan's gut, and he arched upwards, previous instructions completely forgotten as he thrusted into Hyunjin's hold and pushed Hyunjin's fingers even deeper into himself. His breath punched out of him, pleasure cresting inside him, threatening to spill over.

"Hyu-Hyunjinnie," He stuttered, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his fingers beginning to lose sensation where he gripped the edge of the sink. He was scared to look at Hyunjin's hip, where his grip felt bruise-tight, but it's like his muscles were locked.

"C'mon, baby," Hyunjin urged, pressing into him on one end and tightening his hold on them in the other, and Chan's breath hitched, his hips moving of their own accord, his gut tightening like a string about to snap, until it finally washed over him and he came into Hyunjin's hand, his cunt pulsing around the fingers still thrusting into him gently, his skin breaking out in tingles as Hyunjin's hold tightened, his hips stuttering forward one more time before he painted Chan's abdomen with his own cum.

Chan slumped back again, his grip loosening, muscles finally unclenching. Hyunjin collapsed into him, sighing.

"Wow, that was..." Hyunjin trailed off.

Chan panted, his thoughts still out of reach. He'd never known he could feel like that before, never knew he could lose his mind just from the way someone touched him. His cunt still felt sensitive, the chilly air of the room making his skin break out in goosebumps. The porcelain he was sitting on, which was warmed with their shared body heat, was beginning to cool.

Distantly, he realized he was starting to get cold.

Chan's eyes tracked a dust mote slowly descending from the ceiling. The mixture of his and Hyunjin's cum was beginning to cool on his skin, tacky and uncomfortable. The wetness gathered between his legs suddenly felt icy-cold as the apartment's aircon blew against it.

Hyunjin still hasn't said anything.

Was it good for him? Was Chan to his satisfaction?

Maybe he was regretting it. Maybe his anger came back now that the lust was gone. Maybe he expected Chan to say something? What does one usually say after having sex?

He'd just had sex.

He'd just had sex for the first time in his life in a bathroom in his members' apartment, and he had no idea what to do.

The pain in his chest came back, and he felt vaguely nauseous.

He shivered.

His sweats were pooled around his ankles.

He had the sudden urge to cover himself, bundle up and hide. He felt exposed, cut open, like his organs were threatening to spill out. He wanted to curl into a ball, desperate to keep everything inside.

Worst of all, he felt a lump growing in his throat.

"I'm gonna go," He mumbled, trying to push Hyunjin off him as gently as he could, quickly pulling up his sweats and gathering his shirt from its place on the floor, putting it on as he went. Hyunjin may have said something behind him, but he closed the door to the bathroom before he could hear it. Minho and Jisung were gone - Felix and Seungmin were occupied with each other. Changbin was probably in the kitchen.

Jeongin's head snapped to him, expression turning alarmed.

"Let's go, Jeongin-ah," Chan rasped, and beelined towards the door.

"Wait, hyung-" Jeongin called, but Chan couldn't afford to, his eyes stinging. He shoved his feet into his shoes and tore the door open, preferring to wait for Jeongin outside then bear another second inside the apartment.

He needed a shower.

The door to their apartment clicked shut.

"Hyung, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just needed air. I'm going to shower."

Jeongin followed him, scent turning more sour with every step.

"Something clearly happened. You're clearly upset. Talk to me."

"I need a shower, Jeongin," Chan insisted, hardening his voice. He stepped into the bathroom and closed the door in Jeongin's face.

He didn't give himself any time to think. He stepped into the shower, stripping as he went, and turned the water as hot as he could bear it. He couldn't hear Jeongin over the spray, but he could still vaguely smell him, like rotten fruit stuck in his teeth.

It was nothing compared to Hyunjin's scent clinging to his skin.

He couldn't breathe without smelling Hyunjin's arousal, the bitter spiciness of his lust. He couldn't move without feeling the echoes of his touch.

His eyes stung, and he turned his head up into the spray, letting it wash over him.

He didn't deserve to smell like Hyunjin.

He didn't want to smell like his desire.

He wanted to smell like-

Chan blinked the thought away, pouring soap into his palm and scrubbing at his skin.

He forced himself to focus on the motions - pour product, scrub, wash. He washed his body, his hair, his face. When he stepped out of the shower, he brushed his teeth and flossed and gargled mouthwash until he could no longer taste vanilla on his tongue.

He lamented leaving his scent blockers in his room, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

He opened the bathroom door carefully, expecting to see Jeongin on the other side - but there was no one. The door to Jeongin's room was shut, and his voice was coming from beyond it.

Chan allowed himself a breath of relief, even as his eyes stung. He walked into his room and debated locking the door behind it, but ultimately decided against it. He'd never done it before, and he didn't want to worry Jeongin more than he already had.

He did, however, reach into his nightstand, and applied a good layer of scent blockers before tucking himself into his blanket as tightly as he could and forcing his eyes shut.

His breaths were too shallow. He felt like he was manually expanding and contracting his lungs. His skin felt loose, like he was going to melt away if he didn't wrap up. He shuffled inside his blanket, trying to tighten it around himself as much as he could, trying to stop his organs from spilling out.

"Hyung?" Jeongin's voice called softly from the other side of his door.

Chan opened his eyes blearily, looking at the door. He could feel it in his throat that if he talked now, his voice would be unsteady.

"I talked to Hyunjin-hyung," Jeongin offered, and Chan's heart rate doubled. He remained silent. "He didn't tell me exactly what happened, but I got the general idea," He paused again, as if leaving room for Chan to chime in. "I don't think I understand why you're upset, though." He trailed off. Chan took a deep breath. He swallowed, forcing his voice to steady.

"Everything's fine, Iyen-ah. Hyung just drank a little too much. Minho's pre-rut wasn't helping either."

Jeongin was silent for a moment.

"Alright," he said, unsure. "Do you want some tea?"

"No, thank you."

"Okay." He paused. "Good night, hyung."

"Good night, Jeongin-ah."

Chan woke up early the next morning, and slunk out of the house before Jeongin could catch him.

Over the past year, boxing had become somewhat of a solace. He didn't need to hold back with a literal punching bag. His instructor was pleased with his progress, the strength of his attacks, which made him feel less shit about everything else. At least he was good for one thing.

The more he tried to avoid thinking about the previous night, the more he thought of other things. Like trying to flatten a burger, but then everything comes spilling out the sides.

Did everyone get a piece of handmade ceramics from Hyunjin? Did they all celebrate their anniversaries in different ways?

Chan feigned to the right, then punched. The bag swung.

He wondered if they all had different flowers on them, or if it was one specific flower tying them all together.

Chan bounced in place, shifting his weight, then punched twice in rapid succession.

Maybe it was their birth flowers - that seemed like something Hyunjin would do. He wondered if Hyunjin got anything in return. Maybe he had six different gifts laying around his bedroom, the mark of six successful relationships.

Chan took a short step back, then kicked, his shin connecting with the bag at an off angle, sending pain shooting up his leg. His knee almost buckled, but he balanced himself and bounced back.

What were they celebrating? Just a regular anniversary? A specific one?

Chan punched twice, bounced back, kicked. His wrist twinged - another wrong angle.

Was it curiosity again? They'd never had sex with an omega. Hyunjin was fascinated with his body. Was he satisfying his curiosity?

Chan repositioned himself, punching once to test his footing.

Did they all have their first times in a bathroom?

He punched twice, gritting his teeth against the feeling of his knuckles chafing against his glove, the skin splitting. He must've been here longer than he thought. He bounced on his toes, sweat dripping into his eyes. He corrected his stance, and struck again - one-two punch, pull back and kick.

Why didn't he deserve a fucking plate?

Chan panted, gloved hands guarding his chin. He gave a few weak punches to the bag, just tracking its swaying with his eyes.

Maybe they were all just drunk. Minho was in pre-rut, hormones clouding his judgement. Hyunjin...

Chan dropped his hands, letting his arms swing by his sides. His eyes were still locked on the punching bag, but his muscles were loose.

They didn't mean to hurt him. Hyunjin didn't mean to hurt him. Minho didn't mean to scent-bomb him. They were just... mistakes.

Chan huffed, heading toward his water bottle for a drink.

He could get over this. He couldn't actually be mad at them for longer than two minutes anyway - this would heal, as all things do. He just had to keep on the way he always has, the way he knew he should. Just pretend nothing changed.

He wiped off his sweat with the bottom of his shirt, checking his phone for notifications. Changbin was asking something about work, Jeongin was asking about his workout, Jisung sent him a link to a new anime. Focusing on work would do him good, he knew. It would be a good way to feel like himself again.

He sent a thumbs up to Jeongin and Jisung, then replied to Changbin, letting him know he'd be at the studio in a short while.

He could go back to normal. He could do this.

"What's up with you and Hyunjin?" Changbin asked the minute Chan stepped through the door. Chan just barely held back a groan, toppling into the free chair.

"We were just drunk, Bin. There's nothing more to it."

Changbin studied him for a moment.

"Hyunjin looks like he'd accidentally kicked a puppy and is tormenting himself over it."

Chan winced. A harmless little puppy echoed in his mind. He sighed through his nose, then opened his phone and pulled up his thread with Hyunjin.

You: Hyunjinnie, everything's fine, hyung loves you &Ч

He turned his phone to Changbin, who settled, if only slightly.

"Is that why you called me over?"

"No, I actually did want to run this by you," Changbin tapped the space bar on the keyboard in front of him, and a track started playing.

Chan let everything that wasn't music wash out of his head. He didn't need to be Chan, the person with feelings and secrets - he just had to be a producer.

Hyunjin answered his text at some point, a simple heart. Chan figured that was the end of that, though his heart panged. Minho's rut had started, and it seemed Jisung was helping him deal with it. Chan only knew because Felix alluded to it when they chatted.

Lix: im

Lix: kinda jealous of sung

Lix: ьэ

You: Isn't it super intense?

Lix: yeah

Lix: ьщ

Lix: sorry for being horny on main

Lix: lol

You: You do you mate

His rut lasted four days, during which they had to make do without him. Chan and Hyunjin had to lead dance practices, which Chan refused to make awkward. Thankfully, it seemed Hyunjin was taking his lead, content to pretend nothing had happened. He went so far as to joke around with Chan like normal, which was a relief. By the time Minho had come out of his rut, Chan was starting to feel like things were going back to normal. Well, the new normal, where he had to come to terms with the fact that the seven people he'd spent the majority of his adult life absolutely in love with lived happily in their own bubble of courting without him.

It was a work in progress.

When Minho's rut ended, he seemed exhausted, but determined. Chan was immensely grateful to have him back - he didn't hold a candle to Minho's expertise. For the first half of his first day back, he kept avoiding Chan's gaze. If Chan didn't know any better, he'd say Minho was embarrassed. He ended up apologizing to Chan after practice was over, sweat soaked, looking like he wanted to bolt.

"It's fine, Minho-ya. It was just a mistake," Chan smiled.

"No, I promised you that wouldn't happen again. I should've done better."

"Minho," Chan placed his hand on Minho's shoulder, and squeezed gently. "It's fine. It happens. You couldn't control it any more than I could control the flash heat I had."

Minho tilted his head, his eyes narrowed. Chan suddenly realized he hadn't actually told them about that.

"Never mind. Just - it's fine, yeah? Don't worry about it."

"So you don't wanna do it again?" Minho smirked, and Chan laughed. He smacked Minho's arm playfully and rolled his eyes before turning and walking away. "That's not a no, hyung!" Minho called after him. Chan rubbed at the sore spot in his chest, convincing himself it was relief he was feeling.

Chan stepped out of his shower and immediately applied his scent blockers, as he has been since that night.

Lix: hey chris

Lix: do you wanna

Lix: come over?

Chan looked at the time, then frowned.

You: What for?

Lix: just games

Lix: me and seung

Lix: are playing league

Lix: could use a third

You: It's pretty late

You: And I haven't played league in ages

Lix: ьщ

You: I can hop on vc with you

Lix: ьщьщ

Chan huffed a laugh.

You: Lix we have work tomorrow

Lix: like you're not

Lix: gonna play genshin

Lix: until 4 am

Lix: ьч

You: Fiiiine, jeez

You: cunt

Lix: ьщьъ

Lix: see you

Lix: in a bit

Lix: ьч

Chan scoffed, laughing despite himself.

Seungmin greeted him at the door, face puffy and hair somehow puffier, in loose shorts and a shirt that was three times his size. Chan dug his fingernails into his palm to stop himself from reaching over and messing Seungmin's hair up even more.

"Hey, hyung."

"Hey, Seungminnie."

Chan made his way in and tried to ignore the way Seungmin was sniffing the air around him in a way that was anything but subtle. He untied his shoelaces methodically, toed off his shoes and straightened them by the door. It settled his nerves. He straightened and made his way inside, avoiding Seungmin's inquisitive gaze.

Felix's room was painted in purples and pinks from the LED lights decorating his walls. His keyboard lit his face in all the colors of the rainbow, lighting up every time he pressed a key. It was darker than Chan was used to - Felix tended to have the main light on rather than the LED ones, but it did give the room a cozy feel. For a moment, Chan missed his own LED panels, but he figured it was for the best that he got rid of them.

Felix was leaning forward in his seat, face glued to the screen, tongue poking out in concentration. Chan greeted him, earning a short grunt in response. Seungmin disappeared into his own room to connect from his PC, so Chan took his place on Felix's bed and fished his laptop out of his bag, then started a discord call to Seungmin before hunting for the Riot launcher he was pretty sure he'd uninstalled years ago. Chan settled into position, crossing his legs and sitting hunched over his laptop. Felix shot him a glance out of the corner of his eye.

"Mate, what are you doing all the way over there?"

"It's not like your desk has room," Chan scoffed, nodding towards the two spare keyboards and three empty energy drinks proudly displayed next to Felix's huge curved monitor. To be honest, it was like three or four steps away from being Chan's dream setup, but he'd never tell Felix that. Felix tsked, eyes bouncing between his own screen and Chan.

"Wait a second," He paused the game, then picked up his mouse and keyboard and plopped down right next to Chan. Chan gaped.

"There's no way that's comfortable for you. You're gonna kill your back!"

"No no, it's fine. I invited you over! I feel bad abandoning you on the bed alone!"

Chan laughed.

"It's not that serious, man, sit normally!"

"Shut up and join the game already!"

"Yeah, Chan, join the game already!" Seungmin's voice sounded even more nasally over the Discord call. Chan rolled his eyes but did as he was told.

As predicted, Chan sucked.

He doesn't really play League, okay?

It didn't help that he was playing on a laptop while contending for room with Felix's surprisingly sharp elbows.

Their rank appeared on screen, and Seungmin groaned over the call.

"Hyung is sorry, Seungmin-ah," He giggled.

"The carrying I'm doing is actually insane." Seungmin grumbled in response.

"Can we maybe play something else? Honestly, my back is killing me."

"Sure," Felix shrugged. "What do you wanna play?"

Chan blinked, taken aback. Felix was usually much more protective of his LoL time. Though he supposed he was holding them back a bit. Why did they invite him anyway?

"Uh, you have a Switch, right?"

"Mario Kart!" Seungmin announced and promptly exited the Discord call. The door to his room swung open and he hurried to the living room. Chan snorted.

"He's really excited about Mario Kart."

"Yeah, no, I think I noticed, Lix."

Chan shut his laptop and got off the bed, stretching and cracking his bones with a groan. Felix took the opportunity to poke his side, and Chan crumpled.

"Yah!" He turned around, but Felix was already running to the living room. Chan shook his head, collected his laptop, and followed.

Seungmin and Felix's couch was surprisingly small. Like, Chan imagined two people could fit in there comfortably, but three was a bit of a stretch. He looked around the room, hoping to find a chair somewhere, but then Felix scooched closer to Seungmin and patted the spot right next to him. Chan shrugged and plopped on.

Seungmin passed out the controllers and worked on the settings of the game, insisting he had to configure it right for it to be fun. Chan mostly tuned out - it was getting really late, and he was a little tired.

Suddenly, a hand landed on his thigh. Felix's hand.

It was a soft thing, barely perceptible if Chan hadn't looked. He didn't know why he was taken aback. Felix was liberal with physical affection, he knew that. Kneading muscles, slapping butts, biting arms - there was very little he didn't do. This wasn't even anything weird, Felix's hand rested just slightly higher than Chan's knee, not anywhere...

Chan shifted in place, but the hand remained.

He shook his head and refocused on the game, which Seungmin finally started.

Much to Seungmin's annoyance, Chan won the first game. Then the second. And also the third.

Felix slapped Chan's thigh in excitement, and Chan tried not to wince, and tried even harder not to memorize the way that felt or let it affect him in any way.

"You got too many items. I'm changing the settings."

"It's okay, Seungminnie, hyung is just better than you." Chan goaded, only to see the muscle in Seungmin's jaw tick.

The next round had Chan leaning forward in his seat - it was faster, on a map he wasn't familiar with. Seungmin was trying really hard to trip him up.

In his haste to get closer to the screen, Chan almost didn't notice that Felix's hand climbed up a few centimeters. Actually, maybe it was Chan's movement that jostled it. It wasn't anything at all. He focused back on the game.

At the last turn before the finish line, Felix's hand squeezed.

Chan's heart stuttered, but his hands were steady.

Was this some sort of tactic? Felix wasn't even really a contender, trailing behind at 8th place.

"That's cheating!" Seungmin exclaimed, watching Chan get a boost from a bumper.

"Skill issue," Chan laughed as he crossed the finish line, first yet again. Felix, sandwiched between them, laughed so hard that his hand somehow moved even higher.

Chan swallowed.

Felix's hand was starting to get into intimate territory.

Chan's face was warm, but he didn't want to make a scene. The couch was small, and Felix looked comfortable, and they were having fun. It didn't mean anything, even if the warmth steadily gathering in the pit of his stomach signalled otherwise.

Chan played the next round on autopilot. All of his senses were attuned to Felix's hand - every slight movement of his fingers, every ghost of pressure applied to his thigh, like Felix wanted to squeeze it again but refrained. His hand was warm, spreading tingles from the point of contact to Chan's entire body. He could feel his dick start to take interest.

Felix's fingers twitched, and Chan lost control of his car for a second. Seungmin crowed victoriously, but Chan could barely hear it over the sound of his own heart. His hands were clammy.

He took a deep breath, trying to refocus -

A finger just barely grazed between his legs.

Chan jumped up out of the sofa, ears blazing.

"I- I'm gonna go get some water," He stuttered, and shuffled over to the kitchen as fast as he could.

He poured himself a glass of cold water and downed it all in one go.

What was he doing here? What was Felix doing?

A part of Chan was still convinced it was some sort of accident, but after the other night with Hyunjin, he wasn't so sure anymore. A part of him couldn't help but think Felix was just curious about what he would find.

The thought sat sourly in his mouth, but his dick didn't get the message, still somewhere between flaccid and half hard. He sighed at the thought that he'd have to change his boxers yet again before going to bed. He hated falling asleep with a sticky cunt.

"Hyung?" Seungmin's voice startled him out of his thoughts. He turned, offering him a smile. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just needed some water."

Seungmin nodded, though he looked unconvinced, and leaned back against the counter, next to Chan.

"Did Yongbok make you uncomfortable?"

"No," Chan shook his head before he even processed the question. Seungmin looked at him doubtfully. Chan didn't really know what to say.

"Do you have a problem with us touching you?" That was an easy question. Chan shook his head. "Then what's up?"

"I..." Chan trailed off. "Why did he...?" Chan's face burned. He had no idea what he was even trying to ask. Why did Felix touch him like that? Why did they insist on squishing into that tiny couch? What did Felix even invite him over for?

His head was a mess. Echoes of Hyunjin's touch and Seungmin saying he was curious and Minho whispering into his ear. The ghost of Felix's hand still lingered on the inside of his thigh.

"Because he wanted to." Seungmin shuffled closer. There was barely any space between them, now. Chan could feel Seungmin's breaths on the tip of his nose. His eyes strayed to Seungmin's lips, perfectly moisturized as always. He had a habit of applying lip balm every chance he got. Chan thought it was maybe a leftover habit from having braces. His mouth curved, a slight smile, and Chan's eyes flicked up to meet Seungmin's, dark and intent, with only the barest hint of amusement. Chan licked his lips, watching as Seungmin's eyes tracked the movement.

"But why-?"

"Because we all do," Seungmin closed what little gap there was between them, pressing his lips to Chan's messily and fisting a hand in his tank top. Chan made an aborted sound, surprised more than anything, before remembering to reciprocate. The air around them sweetened with the smell of chocolate, so much that Chan could almost taste it in Seungmin's kiss. It was wet, and eager, and insanely overwhelming. He brought a hesitant hand up to Seungmin's neck, trying to stabilize himself, licking carefully into his mouth and almost getting his tongue bitten off.

"Our Seungminnie loves having something in his mouth." Felix's voice rumbled from the other side of the kitchen, and Chan jumped, disconnecting his mouth from Seungmin's. Chan panted, tempted to shove himself back and pretend nothing was happening, but then he looked over at Felix. He was leaning against the fridge, a satisfied smile on his face, his eyes sparkling with mischief. His freckles seemed to glow under the warm kitchen light, his hair tucked neatly behind his ears and reflecting the same light, almost creating a halo around him.

Chan's brain was decidedly not working.

"Will you let him have a taste, Channie-hyung?" Felix murmured, prowling closer. Chan had no idea what he was even asking. Seungmin nudged his shoulder, turning them so that Chan's lower back was at the edge of the counter, then tapped the back of his thigh. Chan frowned, unsure what to do.

"Hop up, hyung." Felix ordered, now barely a step away from them both. Chan looked at Seungmin, who was just watching him. His pupils swallowed the warm brown Chan was used to, eyes dark and hungry. It looked like he was beyond words, which Chan couldn't really blame him for.

He hopped up on the counter.

Seungmin immediately attached himself to Chan's neck, almost grazing his scent gland before abandoning it for his collarbones, then his pecs, moving lower and lower until his mouth closed around the head of Chan's clothed cock, getting it wet with spit. The feeling was unlike anything Chan had experienced - the friction against the wet fabric was too good, Seungmin's mouth warm and his tongue devilish as it circled his head and dug into his slit with unnatural accuracy. Chan moaned weakly, screwing his eyes shut and throwing his head back, hitting the cupboard behind him. Before he could recover, there was a second pair of lips kissing up his throat - Felix, taking his chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilting his head down to shove his tongue into Chan's mouth. Felix kissed like he was starving, licking Chan's molars and biting his lips.

Chan didn't know what feeling to focus on first. His head was pure static, pleasure like electricity in his veins. He smelled the ocean, tasted salted chocolate on his tongue.

Seungmin pulled down the front of his shorts and boxers in one go, and goosebumps raised on Chan's thighs from the sudden gust of cold air against his dick, but not for long - Seungmin swallowed him down in one go, his nose brushing Chan's stomach as he flexed his throat around the head.

Chan groaned, head knocking back against the cupboard again, but Felix didn't give him a second to catch his breath, kissing down his neck and shoving his hands under Chan's tank top, pushing it up to his armpits before closing his lips around a nipple. Chan jerked, not knowing where he was even trying to go. Behind closed eyelids, his eyes were beginning to feel a little wet.

Seungmin tongue traced shapes on Chan's shaft, and Chan's hips jerked forward on their own, pleasure sparking like fire in his gut. Felix bit his nipple, and Chan cried out, pleasure-pain setting him ablaze.

"Up," Felix panted, and Chan moaned in confusion. "Pants off," Felix clarified, and Chan scrambled to comply, trying in vain to shimmy his pants down without dislodging Seungmin, who was starting to bob his head on Chan's cock. "Puppy," Felix called, and Chan shivered. Felix patted the top of Seungmin's head, and immediately, he pulled off, a thin thread of spit connecting his lips to the shiny head of Chan's dick. He grumbled slightly, an adorable pout on his face. "Patience, pup. I'm getting you your treat." Felix scolded gently, and Seungmin settled, even though he still looked grumpy. Chan's entire body erupted in goosebumps at the display. "Hyung," Felix pulled his attention back, and Chan turned to him, awaiting direction. "Pants off," he reminded with a fond smile, and Chan sprang back into action, something in him wilting at the thought that he'd forgotten the only order Felix gave him. He hopped down for a second, shoving his pants and boxers down the rest of the way, letting them pool by his ankles, then froze. Did he jump back on the counter? It seemed unsanitary. Well, everything they were doing was unsanitary, but that seemed to cross a line.

Seungmin shuffled forward, getting his hands on the backs of Chan's calves and trying to lift his legs. Chan let him, leaning just enough of his weight on the counter so that Seungmin wouldn't have to actually lift him. "Good boy," Felix praised with a smile, his eyes on Seungmin. Chan's stomach clenched. Seungmin rolled his eyes, but his ears were firetruck red. Now that he's had a second to breathe, Chan could suddenly see the way Seungmin's dick tented his sweats.

He shivered, his dick giving a pathetic little twitch as his cunt leaked. Seungmin's eyes locked onto where Chan was dripping, his grip on Chan's legs suddenly tightening, before he dove in. Chan inhaled sharply at the new sensation. Wet warmth licking between his folds, the bridge of Seungmin's nose bumping against Chan's shaft. Chan's stomach tightened once more, this time with unrestrained arousal. Felix hummed somewhere by his ear, then took Chan's earring into his mouth, licking the metal and biting the lobe, while his hands toyed with Chan's nipples.

Chan moaned, then bit his lip, suddenly aware of how loud he was being. He shoved his hips forward, eager to feel more of Seungmin's tongue on his cunt, and he moaned, prodding Chan's hole with the tip of his tongue and licking into it ravenously. Chan's hands clenched on the edge of the counter, and he was hit with a wave of deja vu, caught in the same position yet again, but he couldn't stop - it was too good, the feeling of Felix's nails scratching his areolas gently, the way his teeth now scraped around his scent gland, Seungmin's tongue fucking Chan's cunt open and slurping his slick like a man possessed. His pulse was thundering in his ears, his core spasming in pleasure as the fire in his belly roared, getting better and better with every second -

"I'm gonna-" He croaked, his hand flying to Seungmin's head to try and shove him off, but Seungmin seemed to double his efforts, twisting his arm so he could add a finger alongside his tongue, and fireworks set off inside Chan as he came, convulsing around Seungmin's tongue, his cock spurting weakly onto his abdomen.

Chan panted, his eyes still closed.

"Fuck," Felix groaned, accompanied by the slick sounds that Chan assumed were him jerking himself off. Seungmin's mouth was still attached to Chan's cunt, licking a slow stripe from his hole to his tip, and Chan twitched. Part of him wanted to shove Seungmin away, and part of him wanted to go back to a second ago.

He felt sticky all over, and the air was heavy with the smell of sex and bitter cocoa and salty ocean air.

Chan squinted his eyes open.

Felix's hair was falling in strands over his face as he braced himself on the counter, his hand flying over his dick. Chan couldn't even process what it looked like, his brain was so scrambled, and before he could try and focus, Felix finally came with a grunt into Seungmin's waiting mouth.

Chan swallowed thickly.

Felix's hand cradled Seungmin's cheek, stroking the side of his face gently.

The reality of the past... however long settled in his stomach like lead.

What was he doing? What was he, right now? In this situation?

Felix raised his head to look at Chan, his face going from post-orgasm bliss to concern in a matter of seconds.

"Hey, hyung, you alright?" His hand reached out to touch Chan, but he flinched. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He nodded, plastered on a smile, and shimmied away, tugging his clothing back into place, not bothering to clean himself up. Seungmin's nose crinkled in disgust, and Chan agreed, it really was gross, but also he couldn't bear to stay a second longer.

"I'm good," Chan rasped, then cleared his throat. "It's getting really late. I should go." He didn't wait for a response. He turned around, made his way to the door, laced up his shoes and left without another word.

By the time he got home, it was nearing 4 am. He'd have to be up in four hours at the latest.

He stepped into the kitchen and turned the kettle on. He should probably descale the kettle soon, actually. Clean the oven while he's at it. The microwave could use a deep clean too, and he should add more rinse aid to the dishwasher.

The water boiled, and he made himself some jasmine tea.

He had everything he needed for cleaning - he'd bought a descaling kit not long ago and was just too lazy to use it. And the oven would take him a bit more time, but it would be so satisfying to finally get all the dried up oil out.

He finished his tea and took a hot shower, thinking about what products he'd need to use. He changed into an old, soft T-shirt and older, softer sweatpants, and got to work.

He lost himself to the task easily - that was his favorite part about cleaning. That, and seeing physical proof of his work. By the time Jeongin walked out of his room a few hours later, everything was spotless, and he'd even done his and Jeongin's laundry.

"Hyung?" Jeongin grumbled groggily from the kitchen island.

"Good morning, Innie."

"What are you doing?"

"Hyung was just cleaning a bit."

Jeongin gave him a puzzled look.

"At seven in the morning?"

"Couldn't sleep."

Jeongin's eyes widened. His scent turned sour with concern before he reigned it in. Chan decided to ignore it, and Jeongin, thankfully, didn't push.

"I de-scaled the kettle."

"Thanks, hyung."

Felix and Seungmin said nothing at practice that day. Chan was relieved - he didn't even know what he'd say if they did bring it up. Thinking back on it, he couldn't even pinpoint how exactly he found himself yet again, stripped half naked in someone else's apartment, having one of the best orgasms of his life while feeling like absolute shit.

He watched as the members orbited each other, once again left to his own devices.

What exactly did they want from him? Seungmin said they all wanted to. All wanted to what? Touch him? Fuck him?

Did they even want him? Or the omega pussy he was inconveniently attached to?

Chan shuddered. He shouldn't think that way. It was ungenerous and unfair to them. They weren't trying to hurt him, he was sure of that much. Maybe they just wanted something casual with him. He's hard pressed to believe they'd fuck him if they didn't want him at all, omega or not. Maybe they wanted to try being with an omega, and Chan was already there, and someone they knew they could trust, so they decided to go for it.

He could live with that, he thought. Being their accessible omega. Well, not their omega - the omega they fuck. Someone they can trust to have new experiences with. He could do that.

The next few days, Chan stayed mostly at home. He had no real schedules, only keeping up with the gym and working on new music, both of which didn't require him to see anyone but Jeongin, who, thankfully, didn't act like anything was out of the ordinary. Chan was really trying hard to adapt to this new ordinary.

He was, however, getting a little tired of sitting at his desk, so he moved to his bed for a change of scenery. He was absorbed in his work, headphones on and dead to the world, when suddenly, his door opened, and Minho appeared. Chan took off his headphones, confused.

The door shut softly behind Minho.

"Minho-ya?"

"Hyung." Minho's face was stern, but he allowed his scent to permeate the air in Chan's room, calm and relaxed.

"Minho." Chan mirrored Minho's tone, confused.

"You're sulking."

"No? I'm okay-"

"Jeonginnie snitched. He's worried," Minho shuffled across the room, looking for all the world like he'd rather be anywhere else, if not to the barely-there curve of his lips, the freshness of his scent, betraying his happiness at being right where he is. He climbed onto Chan's bed, moved his laptop and took away his headphones, and settled himself on Chan's lap, knees bracketing Chan's waist.

Chan's face warmed.

"Minho, what-"

"Shh. I'm scenting you. Relax." Minho instructed, and Chan huffed a laugh. If he could, he'd follow Minho's instructions as soon as they left his mouth. That was part of the problem, he supposed.

Minho pushed his face into the juncture between Chan's neck and shoulder, nuzzling against it as Chan's head fell to the side, making room for him. One of Minho's hands was on his shoulder, steadying himself, and the other crept its way up to the back of Chan's head, fingers playing with his hair. Chan's shoulders relaxed, despite himself, and Minho hummed, pleased. He nosed his way up to Chan's scent gland, rubbing up against it and trying to draw out more of Chan's scent.

"You're wearing blockers," Minho accused.

"I always wear blockers."

"You didn't at Changbinnie and Hyunjinnie's."

"That was... a trial."

Minho leaned back, looking into Chan's eyes. Neither his face nor his scent betrayed what he was thinking.

"You should take them off."

"I'm not going to take them off."

"Fine. Don't complain when the scenting doesn't work," He warned and promptly shoved himself back into Chan's neck, flooding his senses with his scent even more strongly than before. Chan's mouth watered as he inhaled a lungful. He could almost imagine a clearing in the forest, a river nearby, the wind carrying the smell of pine as it danced through the trees. Despite what Minho said, Chan found his heart slowed down, his breaths becoming deep. Minho's weight was comfortable on his body, and warm. The way he held Chan felt like an embrace.

"This is nice," He hummed.

"Mm. Would be nicer if you were quiet."

Chan huffed a laugh. His hand found its way to Minho's back, just resting there. The urge to pull him close was strong, but Chan resisted.

Minho shifted against him, pushing his nose further into Chan's neck. Chan couldn't help but wonder if this would end up with him at least partly naked again. He was two for two so far.

It's not like he'd be against it - he decided it was going to be fine, so it was going to be fine - but a part of him kind of wanted to stay the way they were, just like this.

"You were all fuzzy the last time I scented you," Minho complained.

"You were in pre-rut, and I was tipsy."

Minho grumbled.

"Sorry to disappoint," Chan laughed. Minho nipped his neck and Chan yelped, trying to jerk away, but Minho tightened his hold, pinning Chan to the bed. Minho's scent thickened, half pleased and half challenging, and the just faint beginnings of aroused.

Chan sobered.

"Minho-ya..." He started, unsure how to phrase his thoughts.

"Mm?"

"Did you come here because you wanted to sleep with me?"

Minho pushed himself to his elbows, his eyes boring into Chan's. Chan's face heated.

"Do you want me to sleep with you?" He asked, infuriatingly neutral.

"Well - I - It's not that I don't, I just-" Chan sputtered, and it was definitely arousal he was smelling from Minho now, and if Chan somehow managed to miss that, Minho's dick starting to slowly fill out against his front would've done it.

Minho licked his lips, and Chan's traitorous eyes darted to take a look. Minho smirked, pleased.

"Do you, or do you not?"

"I - that's not why I asked -"

"Answer the question, hyungie," Minho rumbled low in his chest, thighs tightening around Chan's midriff, and Chan's omega responded so immediately to the alpha's voice, he didn't even have time to think before he went limp, tilting his head even further. Warmth pooled in his belly, a sudden, overwhelming need to please Minho taking root in him. A soft whine clawed its way up his throat. "There we go," Minho purred, "Good omega."

Chan's breath stuttered, and a distant part of him felt betrayed at how easy it was for Minho to make him so compliant. He didn't react like this to anyone else. Pre-rut or no, Minho just had a knack for turning Chan's insides into jelly.

Minho settled back against him, his hand petting along Chan's hair. Chan tried to gather his thoughts, to explain himself better, but then Minho started pressing soft kisses all over his neck, lingering on his scent gland, his tongue dipping in for a taste, and all of Chan's thoughts flew right out the window.

"Hyung-ah," Minho sighed, "Do you want to have sex?"

Chan squirmed. Minho pinched his earlobe between his teeth, pulling it slightly, and Chan exhaled in a rush, more taken by the image it must have made then the sensation itself. Minho wasn't satisfied, though - he made his way down, nibbling on the sensitive skin of Chan's neck, little stings scattering across his nerves and making him writhe in place. He didn't know whether he wanted to get away or move closer, Minho's teeth sharp where they grazed his scent gland, but his body warm and comforting where he blanketed Chan's. Slowly, he realized he was getting wet, Minho's ministrations doing more for him then he expected. Without warning, Minho licked a long stripe from Chan's clavicle up to the hinge of his jaw, pressing a long, wet kiss there.

Minho hummed questioningly in his ear.

Chan made a confused sound.

"Do you want to have sex?" Minho repeated, looking equal parts annoyed and amused that he had to do so. Without letting himself overthink, Chan nodded, but Minho seemed unsatisfied. He leaned back, chasing Chan's eyes with his own.

"What do you want, hyung?"

"I-" Chan started, but didn't know how to finish. "I want what you want," He settled on.

"I'm asking what you want." Minho insisted.

Chan thought for a moment. He wondered what would happen if he told Minho he wanted him to get out. Or, if he told him he just wanted to go back to scenting, and not even kiss. Would he be upset? Would he think Chan was being unfair for going along with it and then refusing to go any further?

"Hyung, we're not going to do anything you don't tell me you want to do."

Chan's eyes bounced between Minho's.

"What do you mean?" His voice was quiet, even to his own ears.

"I mean, if you told me you wanted me to get off you and leave, I'd leave. If you told me you wanted me to just scent you, I'd just scent you. If you told me you wanted to fuck me, you'd fuck me."

He said it so neutrally, despite the bulge in the front of his shorts.

"Really?" Slipped between his lips without him noticing.

"Of course."

Chan thought. Minho seemed sincere. Chan could trust him, he knew that. The more Minho talked, the more Chan was convinced that he truly wanted to know what Chan wanted. He didn't want to assume, even if he was probably right in his assumption. Even if Hyunjin and Felix and Seungmin assumed right before.

"I want-" Chan stumbled. The words were strange in his mouth, and unfamiliar. His pulse thrummed nervously in his throat, as if cautioning against using the wrong words. "I want to fuck you."

He swallowed.

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

Minho leaned forward once more, caging Chan against the headboard and pressing a kiss to his cheek, then another to his temple, then to the shell of his ear.

"My omega wants to fuck me?" He whispered into Chan's ear, his breath warm and heavy, and Chan let go. His hips bucked up without his permission, and Minho growled directly into his ear, his scent turning sharp. Chan immediately slumped back, baring his neck in submission. His thoughts clouded over, his head foggy and slow - all that mattered was being good for Minho, for his alpha. His boxers were so wet he could feel the way they clung to his hole, the way he strained against them. His cunt throbbed with arousal, warmth trickling from Minho's mouth directly into his veins and burning its way through his body. He needed more - needed to make Minho feel good too, needed to be his.

He vaguely registered an odd whining sound, like a dog begging for treats. It took him way too long to realize it was him making those sounds, and his ears flamed in mortification.

"You want alpha to take care of you, hyung?" Chan threw his head back, whining in frustration. Half of him screamed yes, the other half pleaded for him to be the one taking care of Minho instead. Minho seemed to take pity on him, and decided without waiting for Chan's response. He shifted, his ass coming to rest on top of Chan's clothed cock.

Chan nearly saw stars. The pressure was heavenly after so long untouched, both soothing and igniting him even further. He felt like he was floating, pleasure the only thing tethering him to the bed they lay on.

Minho ground against him slowly, and Chan groaned at the friction. It was bordering on painful with the layers of clothes between them, but he didn't care, didn't want Minho to stop. "Yeah, hyung? Want alpha?"

The fire in his belly was raging, threatening to consume him whole - he abruptly remembered the other day, feeling just like this as he sat caged between Minho's arms. He remembered the way Minho's lips felt against his, the barely-there press of them until they both finally gave in. Almost like he'd just read Chan's mind, Minho surged forward and pressed his lips to Chan's, spit-slick and slightly chapped and completely perfect, his tongue lapping at Chan's mouth until Chan opened up, allowing Minho to swallow him whole.

"Take off your pants for me, hyung," Minho panted, gracefully removing himself from Chan's lap. Chan blinked, squinting against the light of his room - his eyes were closed for so long they'd managed to become slightly crusty, and he blinked, rubbing his eyes to get rid of the grimey feeling.

Minho huffed a small laugh, a fond smile on his face. Chan looked away, suddenly embarrassed. He hastily shoved his sweatpants down along with his boxers and settled back to where he was.

"Do you have lube, hyung?"

"Lube?" Chan's voice was raspy from disuse, surprising himself. Minho's scent spiked with arousal, his pupils dilating. Abandoning whatever plan he had, he pounced on Chan, kissing him breathless, hands tugging at his hair to make him bare his throat so Minho could kiss down it, sucking a mark anywhere he could reach. Chan stuttered out a moan, his hips pushing up, seeking any friction against Minho's body, hovering a frustratingly perfect distance away and not allowing Chan any relief.

"Lube," Minho growled, gone as quick as he came.

Chan blinked furiously, hand flying out to his drawer and rummaging through it until he found his barely-used bottle of lube. He placed it within arm's reach of Minho, and decided to take his shirt off, too, folding it neatly and placing it at the edge of the bed. He made sure to do the same for his pants and boxers, too. He didn't have much use for lube, he mused - he usually made sure he was thoroughly wet before fingering himself. He was more than wet enough now, but he supposed it was nice of Minho to be careful.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of Minho's moan, slightly breathy. He looked over, expecting to see Minho pumping himself, maybe teasing himself a bit -

"Fuck, Minho-ya," He rasped at the sight of Minho, naked and flushed, fucking himself open on his fingers, making precum spurt from his slit. His scent must've done something, because Minho threw his head back with a groan and sank even lower on his fingers, thrusting slowly into his hole.

"Gonna be a good hyung and fill your alpha up?" He panted, his chest already glistening with sweat. His body was - Chan didn't have any other word for it but divine. He was thick with muscle, yet soft with healthy fat, his thighs mouth-wateringly thick where his calves pushed up against them. His nipples were small and dusky, his cock heavy and red between his thighs, bouncing with every thrust, his pubic hair just barely starting to grow in after his last treatment. The line of his neck was long, emphasizing his Adam's apple. Chan's eyes were drawn to the place where he made himself feel good - the jut of his wrist, the veins snaking their way up his forearms. His eyes found Chan's despite the odd angle, and Chan moved before he realized, hands on Minho's waist, guiding him to sit back on his lap.

Minho only smirked, pleased, like the cat who got the cream. Chan's dick throbbed at the thought of pushing into him, making him feel good, filling him up like he deserved.

Minho withdrew his fingers, wiping them on Chan's comforter with a smile that showed off his front teeth, and Chan was simply too besotted to protest. His fingers twitched where they rested on Minho's hips, suddenly unsure.

"You can touch me, hyung. Please touch me."

Chan tentatively drew one hand around Minho's waist, softly kneading a buttcheek. Minho smiled through an exhale, so Chan figured he was doing fine, and allowed himself to be bolder, creeping his fingers closer to where Minho was wet and open, pushing the tip of his index finger inside. He was so warm, and sticky from lube, and fluttery against the pad of Chan's finger, and absolutely fascinating and tantalizing and Chan was going to lose his mind-

"Stop teasing," Minho slapped his chest, a little too hard to be playful, and Chan remembered himself. He gripped the base of his cock and slotted it between Minho's cheeks, rubbing slightly. He'd never really done this before, and a part of him was anxious he was going to hurt Minho. He bit his lip, his eyebrows furrowed, and looked up at Minho.

"Aigoo," Minho cooed, then leaned forward and kissed the wrinkle between his eyebrows. "Don't worry your pretty little head, my omega," he whispered, then lifted himself off Chan's lap and sank down on his cock in one smooth motion.

Chan nearly choked.

Minho was so incredibly tight, and hot, and pulsing around his dick, and Chan was going to cum in like a second, he needed to breathe, needed to make it good, god-

He squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth, and focused on anything but the pleasure licking along his spine. My omega, his traitorous brain whispered, and Chan's hands clenched where they happened to be holding Minho's thighs. He took a deep breath, trying to get himself back from the brink of orgasm.

"You okay, hyung?" Minho sounded amused, and Chan's suspicion was confirmed when he peeked one eye open to Minho's smug smirk. Just to retaliate, he shoved his hips up, pushing somehow even deeper into Minho, who choked on a moan, his eyes rolling back into his head. God, he was so beautiful, Chan didn't know where to look first. He trailed a hand up from Minho's thigh, caressing his side and sliding a thumb over one pebbled nipple, and Minho shuddered under his hands, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Chan licked his lips, tempted by all the skin laid bare in front of him but unsure what to do. He was saved from having to make a decision when Minho started circling his hips, grinding Chan's dick into where it must've felt good, going by the way he frowned. Chan was mesmerized by his movements, by the way strands of hair stuck to his heated skin, by the way his surgery scar gleamed under the lights. He tried to say something but it came out completely garbled, his tongue tied into knots. "So good, hyung, filling me up so good," Minho mumbled, his ears stoplight-red, his hips picking up speed, his thighs tensing as he lifted himself and started bouncing on Chan's lap. Chan's eyes rolled up, pleasure igniting in his veins at the tight friction around his dick. He was probably soaking the bedsheet, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Minho suddenly leaned forward, clumsy lips planting kisses anywhere he could reach, sucking and licking and biting. Chan tilted his head, meeting Minho in the middle and devouring the breathy little sounds he was making. He planted his feet on the mattress and started thrusting into Minho, determined to make it good even with the change in angle. Minho's moans punched out of him with every thrust, and his nails dug into Chan's pecs where he was leaning for support.

"Good omega," he muttered, "good omega, good boy," he moaned, and all Chan could smell was him, all he could see was Minho's flushed face, his bangs stuck to his forehead, all he could hear was Minho's voice, Minho's praise, all he could feel was Minho all around him, his entire world. He thought of Felix praising Seungmin the same way, wondered if Minho was the one who taught him that.

Chan whined, exposing his neck instinctively. He suddenly wished Minho would bite him, would leave a permanent mark on his skin so everyone would know where he belonged, who he belonged to.

"Want alpha to bite you?" Minho growled. "Sweet hyung, so good for me, my perfect omega-"

Chan whimpered, his hips kicking forward and driving even deeper into Minho, chasing their release, trying desperately to make Minho feel good, to make alpha cum-

He reached for Minho's neglected cock, stroking in time with his thrusts, his eyes shut tight and his mind on one thing only. Minho groaned above him, his movements turning sloppy, and Chan knew he was close. He squeezed around the tip of Minho's cock, thumbing his slit, and buried himself as deep as he physically could, and Minho squeezed so tightly around him Chan thought he was going to explode, and then- sharp teeth closed around his neck, biting down, staking a claim.

Chan came with a dry sob, his ears ringing, the world white behind his eyelids.

When feeling came back to his limbs, his abdomen felt tacky. Minho came, then - Chan was pleased. There were cold fingers tracing shapes on his chest, right where his heart thudded, still trying to calm down. His neck throbbed in pain, but he relished it, tempted to bring a finger up to caress the ring of teeth he could feel there. Instead he made do with idly rubbing the soft fabric of his comforter between his fingers. Minho's scent was softer now, pleased and warm, and Chan's eyes felt heavy with fatigue. There was a weird rumbling sensation coming from somewhere - a phone ringing? Or maybe he was hungrier than he thought? Or maybe Minho was making the grumbly sound from before again -

Minho's hand suddenly froze on Chan's chest, the gentle stroking that was lulling him to sleep suddenly gone. His brows furrowed - it was nice, so nice, why did alpha stop?

He must've made some sort of noise, because Minho quickly shushed him, his hand resuming its ministrations. He smiled sleepily. Alpha was here to keep him safe. Alpha was happy and sated, and he said Chan was good, a good omega.

A sense of warmth rushed through him, and the rumbling grew louder. His head grew blissfully silent. Warm and wrapped in Minho, his consciousness softly slipped away.

Later, Chan woke up alone, under a blanket he was used to seeing in their living room. He felt like he'd just had the best sleep of his life. He brought his phone in front of his face and squinted at the brightness. A few notifications waited for him, but his eyes caught on a couple of messages from Minho.

Minho: I had a schedule to get to. There's food in the fridge

Minho: ьэьэ

Chan's chest warmed. He barely noticed how much he was smiling until his cheeks started hurting. He turned around to the side and pressed his nose to the pillow, inhaling what remained of Minho's freshwater scent. His skin tingled, and his heart fluttered.

The fried rice Minho left in the fridge was the tastiest thing Chan had ever eaten.

Jisung and Minho were already in the practice room when Chan walked in. He felt a strange giddiness when he saw them, something disconcertingly similar to butterflies in his stomach. He kept thinking about the fried rice Minho left him last night.

He couldn't help but smile when he greeted them, though Minho only gave him his normal half hearted wave. Chan paid it no mind - Minho was probably tired after a late schedule last night. He was stretching in front of the mirror, half-focused, scrolling through his phone. Chan's leg bounced where he sat on the couch.

"Thank you for the rice, Minho-ya."

"Mm."

"It was really good."

"Mm."

Chan's leg bounced faster. Jisung draped himself over Minho, rubbing their cheeks together, and Minho patted his head. Chan wondered how Minho would react if he did that. He'd always rejected any physical affection Chan offered him, but maybe after yesterday...

Chan waited for Jisung to detach from Minho before he stood up and made his way to where Minho was now stretching his biceps, one arm held straight, locked by the other arms' elbow and pressed tightly to his chest. Without waiting for his courage to wane, Chan pounced, wrapping his arms around Minho from behind and nuzzling his shoulder. Minho stiffened under him, then loosened entirely, resigning himself to the hug, as he always did.

Chan's heart sank.

He didn't know what he expected, really. Maybe he hoped things would be different now, but they weren't different with Hyunjin or Seungmin or Felix, so maybe he shouldn't have expected anything at all. Even if Minho treated him differently when they slept together.

Chan let go and shuffled his way back to the sofa, where Jisung was now sitting, scrolling through his phone. He plopped down and pulled out his own phone.

He kept finding himself watching Minho from the corner of his eye. The way he moved in the room, the way his hair fell over his eyes. He couldn't help but remember yesterday, the image of Minho writhing on top of him juxtaposed with the one right in front of him. The same muscles that left Chan breathless last night were the ones making Minho's movements on stage so captivating. How did any of them stay focused on anything?

A hand landed gently on top of Chan's head, bringing him out of his musings.

Before he could respond, it started softly scratching his scalp.

He turned his head slowly towards Jisung, who was steadily reddening.

"What are you doing?"

"Scratching your head."

Chan blinked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Your hair's nice."

"No it's not. It's fried to shit."

"Hey! Don't talk about your hair like that. I like it." Jisung pouted.

Chan snickered.

"Okay, my hair's nice. Can you stop petting me now?"

"You don't like it?"

"I dunno, it's weird."

Jisung, hand still buried in Chan's hair, mumbled something.

"What was that?"

"I was just trying to see if you'd purr."

Chan stilled.

"What?"

Jisung blinked rapidly, and quickly retracted his hand.

"Sorry, hyung. Did I make you uncomfortable? Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, it's just Minho-hyung told me you purred yesterday when he scratched your head-" Chan's eyes cut to Minho, still obliviously stretching in front of the mirror, "and I just wanted to see if you'd do it `cause it's really cute and nice and-"

"You're rambling," Chan said distantly.

"Right, sorry. I'm sorry, hyung, I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No worries." Thoughts swirled in Chan's head, but none of them were coherent.

He was purring? The vibration, after...

"Minho told you?"

"Yeah. I mean, he came home last night smelling like he just won an award, so I figured something good must've happened, so I asked him, and I mean-"

Chan didn't catch the rest of what Jisung said. That's what it was to him? An achievement? Chan wondered what Minho was more pleased about. Fucking him or getting him to purr. Did it even matter?

Did Minho tell Jisung why Chan purred? Did he tell him how Chan reacted when Minho called him his omega?

Chan's heart raced. Where did they get off comparing notes about him like he was some kind of fucking zoo animal?

Chan's thoughts were interrupted when the door swung open, revealing Jeongin, with Changbin and Hyunjin in tow.

"Hyung?" Jisung called, his voice small. Chan turned to look at him. "Are you upset?"

"No, Jisungie, everything's fine. Hyung's just tired." He plastered on a smile, and got up to start stretching himself.

Chan's stomach churned all throughout practice. He couldn't shake off the feeling from that morning - like he was something they all entertained themselves with. It didn't help that they all avoided him, keeping to their own little groupings.

His day was longer than he had the mental strength for - later he, Changbin and Jisung had a new song to work on.

When practice finally ended, he took his chance to escape to the bathroom in an attempt to clear his head. Unfortunately, Changbin decided to join him.

Chan waited patiently for Changbin to head into a stall so he could wash his face, but Changbin stalled.

"Do you need to piss or what?"

"I... just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Why would I not be fine?"

"I don't know, you kinda seemed tense all throughout practice."

"Slept like shit."

Changbin looked skeptical.

"You kinda seem pissed."

"Okay, maybe I am pissed. Can we go back to work now?"

"Do you want to share?"

Chan's jaw clenched.

"Not really."

"Is it something Jisung said? Because we've already been there-"

"Seriously, Bin, it's nothing, can we just-"

"It doesn't look like nothing, and I don't really want to go upstairs just to have another screaming match-"

"God, what do you want from me?" Chan grabbed the sides of his face.

"Well, it would be nice if you told me what was bothering you."

"What's bothering me is I don't understand what you all want from me."

"What do you mean?"

"What am I to you? What do you want me to be? Because from here it looks like I'm just an opportunity for you to feel what it's like to fuck an omega." Changbin's eyes widened, but Chan didn't give him a chance to respond. "First Jisung makes me kiss Minho in front of you all like it's some kind of joke, then Hyunjin fucks me in the fucking bathroom because I smelled too sweet, then Felix and Seungmin invite me over to play games but it's actually because Seungmin was curious what omega pussy tastes like, then Minho lets me- lets me fuck him, makes me think he actually cares about what I feel-"

"Okay, woah, stop. Minho definitely cares."

"Fucking- then why did he go and brag about it to Jisung?! Like I'm some kind of fucking- side quest?!"

"Hyung, calm down. I don't think Minho has seriously bragged about anything in his life, and you know that too. If he told Jisung something, it's probably because Jisung wouldn't leave it alone."

"He said Minho came home smelling like he won a prize."

"Poor choice of words." Changbin winced.

Chan rolled his eyes.

"Poor choice of words my ass."

"Did you talk to Minho about it?"

"Haven't had the time."

"Okay. You probably should, then. Instead of putting words in his mouth."

"Don't tell me I'm making this up. None of them talked to me, did they? They just fucked me then got on with their lives, business as usual."

"I really think this is all just a big misunderstanding. Felix was courting you."

Chan paused.

"Felix was what?"

"He was courting you, hyung. Why do you think he gave you those cookies? And took you on that date?"

"What date?"

"I don't know, he told me he took you where he and Seungmin always go on dates."

Chan blinked, trying to remember. Something was tickling the back of his mind, Felix complimenting the way he looked, talking about wanting to make him feel special.

"That was a date?" Chan asked incredulously.

"See? Misunderstanding. I'm telling you!"

"That's not- it couldn't have been a date. Why would he take me on a date?"

"Because he wants to court you, dumbass!"

"Why would he want to court me?!"

"We all want to court you!"

Chan's mind went blank.

"What? No you don't."

"Don't decide shit for us."

"Why would you want me? I'm a shit excuse for an omega."

"What the fuck?"

"You heard what I said."

"See, you decided that though. I don't fucking know why, you look like a perfectly fine omega to me, but it doesn't even matter."

Chan's stomach turned.

"Now it doesn't matter? That's why you were all glued to my neck when I stopped wearing blockers? Or why Hyunjin couldn't stop staring at my cunt?"

"Okay, that's not what I meant," Changbin's ears reddened. "I meant you being an omega has nothing to do with us wanting to court you. It's like, an added bonus." Chan frowned. "Shit, no, that's not what I meant-" Chan scoffed.

"Whatever."

"Hyung, you're really focusing on the wrong part of this whole thing."

"And what's the right part?"

"We want you to be ours. Our omega."

Chan's heartbeat thundered in his ears.

"That's- no. You can't want- that. That's crazy."

"Why not? We love you."

Chan's mouth opened and closed like a dying fish. He looked away from Changbin.

"Is it really that hard to believe?"

"You... haven't been great at saying it. Like that."

"You know how we are, though."

"And you know how I am. I'm not great at picking up on clues."

Changbin sighed loudly through his nose.

"Are you still mad?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to scream a little more? Seemed to help before."

Chan huffed a laugh. He leaned his elbows on the counter and buried his head in his hands.

"I never even wanted to be an omega in the first place. You know that?"

Changbin stayed silent.

"I was scared out of my mind when I presented. Kept thinking it would throw everything to shit. I hid it like my life depended on it because it felt like it did. I don't know anything about being an omega. Missed my chance to learn." Chan snorted. "I'm probably the shittiest one you could get."

"Well, what do you think it means to be a good omega?"

"I don't know. I'm supposed to be better than this. Aren't omegas supposed to be the emotionally intelligent ones?"

"That feels a little restrictive."

"Not to mention the way I look," he muttered. Felix would have made a much better omega than him, with his long limbs and elegant figure. or Jisung, with his tapered waist and pouty lips, or Seungmin, with his softer belly and gummy smile. Even Minho would make a more convincing omega, with his thick thighs and dainty features. Chan was all sharp angles, jutting joints and knobby knuckles. His torso was too wide, his limbs too thin.

"You look completely fine," Changbin waved away his words. "I mean, you could bulk up a little bit, but-" Chan slapped his arm with a laugh, and Changbin joined him.

"Seriously, though." Chan sobered.

"Seriously? I don't really know what to say. I think you're the only omega I'd ever want."

Chan's cheeks warmed.

"And I think you should really talk to Hyunjin. To everyone, really."

"Right, yeah."

Chan turned his head back down, staring at the counter.

"Do you wanna go back to work now?"

"Shit, yeah," Chan straightened. "Let's go."

Chan stared at his phone.

Hyunjin's contact photo stared back at him - a picture of a ferret.

Before he could second-guess himself, he pressed call.

"Hi, hyung."

"Hyunjinnie, what's up?"

"Uh, not much. Just got home. What's up?"

"I, uh... wanted to talk."

Silence.

"I'm listening."

Chan cleared his throat.

"About the other night... At your apartment. In the bathroom."

Hyunjin didn't respond.

"I just- I wanted to know, I guess, why."

"Why?"

"Why did you... do. That."

"Why did I have sex with you?"

"Uh-huh."

Hyunjin was silent for a moment.

"Because I wanted to? And you- well, I thought you wanted to, too."

"I did," Chan said quickly. "Or, well, I didn't exactly understand what was happening until it was happening and then I did want it. I think."

"You think?"

"I didn't really have time to figure it out."

"Hyung, what?"

"What do you mean, what? It's not like you asked me `hey, hyung, do you wanna have sex'?" Chan made a poor imitation of Hyunjin's voice.

"What- I definitely asked you if you wanted to."

"Not really. You just told me to tell you to stop if I wanted to."

"That's-"

"And I didn't want to."

"Okay."

They both paused.

"What, did you expect me to assume you wanted to have sex with me when you came into the room?"

"I feel like I was kinda obvious, hyung."

"You barely talked to me for that entire week. I thought you were still mad at me."

"I wasn't mad. I was just upset you felt like you couldn't tell us."

Chan tugged at his earring.

"It wasn't because of you, if that helps."

Hyunjin hummed.

"And you guys didn't tell me about you all either."

"True."

They were both silent for a moment. Chan bit his lip, considering.

"You were... kinda mean, too."

"Mean?"

"When we... y'know."

"Oh. But, in like, a sexy way."

"Sure, but it was still mean."

"You didn't like it?"

"It didn't make me feel great."

"You mean like it's a turn-off? Because it looked like you enjoyed it."

"Maybe? I don't know. It just made me feel like you didn't like me very much."

"What? Hyung, I like you so much."

That strange feeling in his stomach again. Giddiness or butterflies or too much caffeine again.

"You do?"

"Yes? Don't you remember the song we wrote together? The painting I showed you?"

Chan's brow furrowed as he tried to recall.

"The abstract one? The one you didn't really have lyrics for?"

"Yes, the one you said was about love and secrets. I thought you got it."

"I did get it. I think."

"Hyung," Hyunjin whined. "It's for you. Or, about you."

Chan found himself smiling, his ears warm.

"It is?"

"Shut up."

"You like hyung that much?"

"I'm going to hang up."

Chan snickered, his heart, for once, feeling light.

"I'm sorry I made you feel bad."

"It definitely wasn't how I expected my first time to go."

Hyunjin was silent for a moment.

"What do you mean your first time?"

"I mean... my first time having sex."

"Ever? With anyone? Not just your first time with an alpha?"

"Um, yeah?"

Hyunjin gasped.

"Hyunjin, who exactly did you imagine I had sex with?"

"I don't know! You know more people than just us!"

"Nobody knew I was an omega. Who would I have sex with?"

"I dunno! Siwoo-hyung?!"

"Ew!"

Hyunjin burst into embarrassed laughter, and soon enough, Chan joined him.

"Oh my god, that makes it so much worse," Hyunjin groaned.

"It's fine, don't worry about it."

"I will definitely worry about it! I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Sure, Hyunjinnie." Chan's cheeks hurt from how wide he was grinning.

"You're annoying."

"Don't be mean!" Chan whined through a smile.

"Fuck off. Bye. I love you. Bye." Hyunjin grumbled, and hung up. Chan cradled his phone to his chest and flopped backwards onto his bed. He felt like an idiot, a teenager with his first crush, but he didn't even care. He couldn't believe it. Never in his wildest dreams did he dare to hope that this would happen, that they would actually return his feelings. He shimmied happily in place and shook his fists, joy too big to hold in his body.

There was a knock on his door, then Jeongin peeked in.

"Hyung?"

"Hey, Jeonginnie," Chan sat up and patted the empty space next to him.

"You look happy," Jeongin smiled tentatively.

"I am. I really am."

Jeongin's smile widened.

"I've been such an idiot," Chan laughed.

"Well..."

"Hyung is sorry for all the drama, Innie." Chan's leg bounced, still too excited to sit still.

"I'm just glad hyung feels good now."

Chan made an excited little noise in the back of his throat. His fists clenched, his body tensing with the urge to crush Jeongin in a hug. Could he do that now? Maybe he could do that now. Maybe he should stop asking. He wrapped Jeongin up in his arms and tackled him backwards onto the bed, earning an oof, before crushing Jeongin with all his might and wiggling around to his heart's desire.

"Ah, hyung, you're crushing me," Jeongin croaked, but his scent was sweet and pleased.

"I don't care. You like it."

Jeongin groaned and moaned, pretending to struggle for a bit, before giving up.

"I just like you." He admitted quietly, and Chan crushed him even tighter, giddiness exploding like pop rocks in his veins, making him shake them around. "Does this mean you're gonna finally stop wearing blockers around us?"

Chan's heart thudded, an instinctive reaction more than anything, before he jumped up and rushed to the bathroom to wash the blockers off.

"Hyung?" Jeongin called behind him, confused, but before he could come check on Chan, he was already back in the room, scent-blocker free and tackling Jeongin back onto the bed, ruffling his already messed up hair. Chan rubbed their cheeks together happily, reveling in the scent of ripe berries. Jeongin sighed into his ear, relaxing under him.

"Oh, hyung," He whispered like a revelation. "You smell like honey."

Chan thought Changbin and Hyunjin must've told everyone about their conversations with him. He had no other explanation for the sudden outbreak of kind gestures and sweet words all around him. It was especially evident when Felix and Seungmin cornered him during practice one day, handing him another box of soft-baked cookies.

"This is a courting gift, hyung." Seungmin said. "We are courting you." He emphasized. Chan's ears blazed.

"Yup, got it."

"Because we like you. A lot. And want to be with you." Felix added. "Like partners, yeah? Romantic partners."

"Yes, got it, Lix."

"Good." Seungmin nodded, then leaned in and rubbed his cheek against Chan's, sweet chocolate washing over him and making his chest tingle with warmth. Felix smiled mischievously, then leaned in on Chan's other side and did the same, flooding him with sea salt and a hint of eucalyptus. They left as quickly as they'd come, leaving Chan staring at the wall and blinking like an idiot, his face still warm.

They weren't the only ones, either.

Jisung brought him snacks whenever they were in the studio, or at dance practice, or every chance he got, wrapped in a little note that said "courting gift" next to a cute little doodle of the two of them, a heart between their heads.

Changbin offered to go work out together, then kept complimenting his form, winking at him like he thought he was being slick. He even bought Chan his own protein shake, voluntarily.

Another day, Minho let himself into their apartment, cooking and boxing up Chan's favorite food, then looking at him like he was an idiot when Chan thanked him with a smile. In retrospect, Chan should've seen Minho's dinner invitation all those weeks ago for what it was - a date, which Jeongin, Chan recalled with a little mortification, crashed. He should've known Minho's love language would be making food.

Jeongin started scenting him every chance he got - before leaving for work, after coming home, when they watched something on the couch. He'd started giving him these almost-kisses, on his forehead or his cheek, which were driving Chan a bit insane. Every time he tried to kiss Jeongin back, or to catch his lips, Jeongin gave him a little smirk and refused, saying they were "doing this properly". Barely a week after their phone call, Hyunjin gifted him a painstakingly detailed oil painting of the ocean, saying so you don't have to look at looping videos of it, and Chan almost ran away before somehow managing to swallow back his tears.

He'd finally stopped wearing his blockers, too. He kind of hated to admit it, but it did help him feel better. More awake, more present. The members kept sneaking glances at him and sniffing the air when they thought he wasn't looking, but he found he didn't mind too much. It... even made him a little happy, if he was honest. More proof that they liked him.

Chan stood in front of the practice room mirror, examining his own reflection. He recognized himself, and he didn't. There was a certain curve to his mouth, a shadow of a smile that had become a permanent fixture over the past week or so. His skin looked healthy, his scent gland no longer flushed an angry red, the dark circles under his eyes less pronounced.

"Watcha looking at?" Felix came to stand behind him, threading his arms through Chan's and hugging him, leaning his chin on Chan's shoulder. Chan studied their reflection, smile widening, skin turning pink. He shrugged, resting his hands on Felix's and swinging them from side to side.

"Myself, I guess."

"Like what you see?"

Chan shrugged again.

"`Cause I do." Felix wagged his eyebrows, then bit Chan's shoulder, who just laughed.

"It's definitely a prettier picture with you here." He leaned his head against Felix's, squeezing his hands. Felix inhaled sharply, turning his head just so, lips a breath away from Chan's cheek. Chan tilted his head further, breath quickening. Felix's lips curved into a ghost of a smile, before he pressed them to Chan's cheek, lingering there for a moment. Then he suddenly skipped away, cackling. Chan huffed, willing the heat simmering in his stomach away.

He barely had a moment alone that day. Jisung laying down across his knees and demanding cuddles, or Changbin squeezing his arms appreciatively, Seungmin pestering him or Hyunjin leaning on him, Jeongin threading his fingers between his or Felix tickling him, even Minho just sitting next to him (when he wasn't groping his butt).

Chan couldn't wipe the smile off his face.

"Hyung," Jisung said at the end of the day, as they made their way to the studio. "You smell so happy."

"I am, Sung. I really am."

Jisung grinned, his eyes disappearing behind bunched up cheeks, and Chan ruffled his hair, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Jisung tsked.

"Not fair. I can't even kiss you back."

"Why not?"

"Because we're taking our time, y'know? Courting you properly and everything."

Chan snorted.

"I think we're a little past that, Sungie."

"No, he's right," Changbin piped up. "We all decided. It's a pact. We're courting you the right way."

Chan looked between them disbelievingly.

"Seriously?"

They both nodded solemnly. They seemed really committed to this.

A giggle escaped Chan.

"It's not funny." Jisung pouted.

"It's a little funny, Sung-ah," Chan snickered.

"It's not! We're trying to make you feel loved and appreciated!"

"You are! I'm sorry," Chan gasped between laughs. Changbin was smiling, too. "You have to admit it's a little bit funny."

Jisung's lips quivered, fighting a smile.

"C'mon, Sung-ah, give hyung a kiss. I promise I feel very loved and appreciated."

"Yah! Don't try to get him to break the pact!"

"Don't try to get him to break the pact!" Chan mocked in a silly voice, and Changbin huffed a disbelieving laugh, and suddenly Jisung's lips were on his. It was a chaste, closed-mouth thing, just a press of lips, and he was gone.

Chan flushed.

Jisung and Changbin burst into giggles.

"Yah! Don't laugh at me!" He whined.

"Y'know, hyung, you talk a big game for someone who gets red as a tomato after a little kiss," Jisung gasped, holding his stomach. Chan's own lips twitched in laughter, but he refused to lose this exchange. He leaned forward and took Changbin's chin in his hand before mashing their mouths together, licking into Changbin's open mouth when he gasped and scratching the short hairs at the back of his head.

"Yah!" Jisung whined. "Why don't I get a kiss?"

Chan was too occupied to answer, Changbin now taking back control after getting over his surprise, pushing Chan back against the desk and placing a hand against his throat, tongue pushing into Chan's mouth insistently. He gasped, heat curling in the pit of his stomach, and Jisung inhaled sharply.

"Woah," Jisung muttered, mouth hanging open.

Changbin pressed the tiniest bit on the sides of Chan's throat, and Chan's body went lax, his omega rushing to submit to his alpha, to let alpha take care of him.

"Oh my god," Jisung whispered. Changbin slowly let up on the pressure, slowing down his kisses until they were simple pecks against his lips, his other hand coming up to caress Chan's face. Chan was a bit dizzy. He felt Changbin lean back, and whined, instantly missing his warmth. Changbin leaned back in, his thumb brushing under Chan's eye.

"Hyung, open your eyes." His voice was quiet, but Chan didn't even think of disobeying. He opened his eyes, squinting against the sudden harshness of the studio lights. He felt a bit disoriented, eyes bouncing around the room. "Here, hyung," Changbin tapped his cheek, and Chan's eyes focused on his face, his thoughts clearing.

"Holy shit, hyung. That was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

Chan's face warmed, and he cleared his throat.

"Actually, no, that would be Minho-hyung making Seungmin cry. Or Changbin-hyung putting Seungmin in his place." Jisung tapped his bottom lip thoughtfully. "Or Felix and Hyunjin making out over Minho-hyung's dick. Yeah, no, that definitely takes the cake."

Chan's head started spinning with all the mental images that sentence just painted.

"Jisung, shut up," Changbin said offhandedly, and tapped Chan's cheek again. "Hyung, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good. That was..." He could feel the warmth spread from his face to his throat. "I liked that." His eyes flit to Changbin's, before looking away, still a bit embarrassed.

"Good. I like you."

Chan snorted.

"I like you too."

"Good," Changbin smirked, and slowly let go of Chan's face. "Just wanted to make sure you knew."

"Is it my turn now?" Jisung piped up.

"No. We have work to do."

"Don't worry, Sung-ah," Chan stage-whispered, "Hyung'll give you as many kisses as you want later."

Jisung pumped his fist in the air, hissing out a victorious yes! Before pretending to lock in when Changbin flicked him upside the head. Chan giggled, his heart swelling in his chest.

"I want to make a love song," Jisung announced.

"Love song it is," Changbin nodded, and they were off.

Chan was sitting on the beach, sand warm between his toes. Berry's head was in his lap, his fingers brushing her soft fur. It was a sunny day, the waves lapping gently at the shore. He heard laughter behind him, but it was sourceless. A part of him felt an urge to head into the water. It seemed nice at first glance, but there was a primal fear chilling his bones. An almost-memory of fathomless depths. Berry yipped under his hands, turning to lick his fingers. He cooed at her, hugging her close to his chest.

He sighed, knowing he had to go. He got to his feet, planting one last kiss on Berry's head, before he started making his way toward the water.

A gentle wave kissed his feet. He lifted his leg, prepared to step in, when suddenly, a hand grabbed his own.

He looked back.

Jeongin was looking back at him, a serene smile on his face.

He gestured back to the beach with his head, and Chan looked behind him. The rest of the members were there, playing with Berry and chasing each other around. They turned to look at him, then started waving, calling him back.

He looked at Jeongin, then back at the sea.

Jeongin tugged his hand. Another hand landed on his shoulder. An arm wrapped itself around his own. Someone patted his head.

Chan's eyes watered.

He looked back, and they were all there. All his members, his boys, looking at him, waiting for him.

"Let's go, Chris," Felix's voice caressed his ear. "We can swim later."

Chan took one last look at the sea, its waves churning despite their calm appearance. He took a deep breath of salty air, dug his toes into the damp sand, and nodded to himself.

He turned and followed them back up the beach.

Chapter End Notes

please feel free to talk to me about this fic or any of the things i talked about in the author's note in the comments or on bluesky @tastyramen, i love talking to people <3

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Оставить комментарий © Copyright Петрова Екатерина Николаевна (azazel2@bk.ru) Размещен: 03/03/2026, изменен: 03/03/2026. 519k. Статистика. Рассказ: Фанфик SKZ Иллюстрации/приложения: 1 шт. Скачать FB2		Ваша оценка:
Аннотация: Around his 16th birthday, Chan presented as an omega. Before his heat was even through, he booked a doctor"s appointment, shaky and delirious, and got a prescription for suppressants. He had no intention of letting his physiology win. or Chan is accustomed to want - knows the shape and feel of it against his teeth, around his heart. Slowly, he learns what it means to have.

Петрова Екатерина Николаевна Peonies and honey

Петрова Екатерина Николаевна
Peonies and honey