Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Yeonjun thinks the world is out to get him today. No, he is not crazy. (Okay, maybe he is. But! But, hear him out first!) 

First, when he woke up this morning, he lost his phone in the mess of boxes stuffed inside his new room— and okay, yes, maybe it’s a little bit of his fault he didn’t unpack anything last night but sue him, it was nearly midnight and he was tired from that long car ride to their new house— and really, how could he be expected to see anything beyond his bed, among the mess of brown cardboard boxes stacked up to the ceiling, and tumbling over each other. (God, he hoped he hadn’t broken any of his stuff with the rough handling from the night before.) His phone was missing. 

Next, his mother came to him with good news (well, good news for her, bad news for him). 

“We called your new school early this morning, and they said you can come in today and attend classes! They will have your uniform and schedule ready when you arrive today!” She smiled. “You gotta be there soon, so you got fifteen minutes to get ready, alright?”

Her soft lavendar scent was blooming with excitement— as if sending her son to a completely new school in the middle of the year was something to be excited about— and she blew him a kiss before disappearing back downstairs. 

Great. And his phone was still missing. 

So with a slightly bitter mood, he started getting ready for a school he wasn’t even remotely ready for, because he was going to be the only one fumbling around the school, not knowing what was where despite being a third-year technically and someone who should be graduating soon and therefore, know his way around the school, and he wouldn’t know a single person, which was just great for his introverted ass, if he had to talk to a bunch of strangers. Social situations and him were not compatible.  

The world seemed to hate him today; when he tried to look for his favorite hoodie, one that looked pretty decent, he was yet again annoyed at the fact that he didn’t know which of these hundred boxes had it. And did he have the time to dig around for it now? Nope! 

Hence, he was stuck in the only article of clothing he could find quickly: a boring grey sweatshirt and brown trousers— he looked like someone’s grandfather! He could only hope they had his uniform like his mom said, so he could change into it. Oh, but he’d already be walking through the halls to the office before he got them, which was mortifying to think about, looking like a grandfather— probably would become the weird new kid. 

Then, to make things even worse, when he went downstairs to get a car ride to school from his dad, like they usually did, he was dismayed to find out that his father no longer had the time in the morning to drop him off by car, and he would have to find a ride to his new school on his own. And would have to get a ride that wasn’t his dad’s car. 

Evidentally, his dad was already gone. 

“And don’t you think it’s about time you get a liscense?” His mom questioned. “You’re eighteen, Junnie. You can’t expect your father to drive you around everywhere like a little pup.” She clicked her tongue.

Yeonjun shrunk under her gaze. “I know, I know— it’s embarrassing.” 

His mother’s gaze softened. 

“I don’t mean it in a bad way. I just… I wish you could act like yourself— you always got bullied in school and… Yeonjun… I know school was hard for you at your old school, but seriously, just be yourself and everybody will like you! You’re so loud and you have a flashy personality at home. Why don’t you show that at school?” His mom clicks her tongue.

Yeonjun groans. He knows it— but it’s not something he can control. 

“It’s just— whenever I go outside the house and try to talk, my brain just shuts down. I become a totally different person— you know I can’t control it! I wish I could be outgoing in school too, really Mom, I do.” He sighs. 

His mom is silent for a moment. Then she wipes her hands on her apron front and walks up to him, cupping both of his cheeks. Yeonjun looks at her, at her weary face and soft brown eyes, at the sadness pooled inside them. 

“Well, I’m just worried, Yeonjun-ah. Alphas expected so much from the world, and I’m afraid that one day the pressure will be too much, and my little boy will burst.” She murmured. 

“Mom… I’m not your little boy!” Yeonjun squirmed, trying to escape her hold on his cheeks. “And I’m gonna be late!” 

“Fine,” she shakes her head, releasing her hold on him. “Go to school— try to have fun, and make friends. I know transferring in the middle of the year is hard, but I know you can do it. Having friends will help, I promise you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled and shuffled out the door in his grandpa outfit and a worn-down black backpack. Things were not looking so great for him, not if he was stepping inside his new school looking like a total loser. Okay, so maybe he was kind of a loser. 

The sky is grey— maybe it was going to rain soon, which would be kinda hilarious, considering his own mood right now— and… he has no idea how to get to his new school. His mom had given him a brief summary; White Rose High, a regional school with students from all around the area, with a mix of social classes since rich people sent their students here, but so did the middle and lower class ones. 

Yeonjun glanced down the street where, at the dead end of the street, sat a towering mansion (it was, by no means, just an ordinary suburban house, especially compared to his own new one) with black tiles and white marble exterior walls (definitely some rich guy’s house). And coming out of it were two teenagers who looked like they were going to school too. Maybe Yeonjun could ask them if they knew where White Rose High was, or a way to get there…. depending on how ‘social’ his brain-to-mouth function felt like today. 

One of them wore a crisp school uniform— a dark blue blazer jacket and matching trousers, with a white undershirt and light blue necktie— and he didn’t look very approachable, not with the whole ‘son of a very wealthy person’ vibes with an extra, ‘Warning! Not to be messed with!’, aura. Fortunately for Yeonjun, the other boy, a little shorter than the first (or maybe Mr. Rich Guy’s Son was just very tall) wore a casual red hoodie under the blazer and he had a bright grin. 

Yeonjun hesitated for a moment, panicking when the two boys started walking towards their car, before his mouth made the ultimate decision as his voice called out a loud, “Hey, excuse me!” 

The two boys turned to him. 

Yeonjun opened his mouth, and then closed it. 

In the distance (okay, more like four houses down), the two boys exchanged glances, before they started jogging over to him. Oh shit. He wasn’t ready to talk to strangers. 

It seemed the universe didn’t care much for his opinion, nor whether or not he was ready to converse with other human beings that weren’t his parents, because the two boys drew closer and closer, and finally, they stopped in front of him. 

“Hey, sorry, I think you may have said something, but we weren’t able to hear it. What was that?” Mr. Rich Guy’s Son asks. “You were too far away and your voice got quieter.” 

Up close, it’s obvious he’s an alpha— tall and standing straightened up, a neat look with a calm expression, and the aura of a powerful alpha— though Yeonjun can’t seem to get any scent from him. Nor the other guy in the hoodie. 

“I… uhm…” Yeonjun says, very eloquently. 

The words always catch in his throat— he sounds so funny inside his head and like the popular alpha guy he wants to be, but what use is that when he can’t talk when it comes to real life social situations?!

“Um, I… uh…” He continues to stammer out to the two, very confused looking boys. Fuck— he wants to talk— it’s just his brain has shut down and he’s left standing like a fool, staring at the two boys who he had called out to first. 

“Yes?” Mr. Rich Guy’s Son blinks. 

Yeonjun swallows. He glances at the other guy— which, okay, whoa, up close is kinda stunning to look at, now that he’s closer up and now that Yeonjun’s finally turned his full attention on him. His brown hair goes down to his shoulders and there are, interestingly enough, golden streaks here and there. He too embodies the traits of a typical alpha— everything Yeonjun isn’t for some reason, even though he presented as an alpha too. 

Wait, he was trying to ask them how to get to White Rose High. 

“School,” he says and then wants to face palm. “I mean— uhm, I’m new here— this— to this neighborhood— and— school— my new school is White Rose High so…”

“Ohh!” Stunning Guy says. “Do you not know how to get there?” 

Yeonjun nods. 

“Well, lucky you, huh?” The guy grins. “Me and Soobin hyung go there too! See?” He points at his uniform, and on the left fold of his blazer, is a white rose patch with a golden outline. Oh. 

Well, maybe Yeonjun’s luck was improving! 

“I’m Choi Soobin,” Mr. Rich— Soobin— introduces. “And this is my younger brother, Beomgyu. And yes, we both go to White Rose High. In fact, we were actually about to drive over there, so would you like to come along?” 

Yeonjun nods, his heart blooming at their kindness. Okay yes, sure, he was kinda too soft— taking every little gesture as something huge, seeing everything small act of kindess as a saint’s gesture. Again, not alpha-like. Not alpha enough. 

“Yay!” Beomgyu says. “Oh my god— you’re gonna love our school. It’s the best— the lunches, the teachers, the curiculums. And get this! The school even allowed me and my friends to make a band, like a rock band type of thing— it’s called the Joker Cards— and we play during—” He stops mid-sentence. Then, “Oh shit! My baby!” He shrieks, before taking off in the direction of his house. 

“His electric guitar,” Soobin informs him, seeing Yeonjun’s startled expression. “He calls it his son. Absolutely cherishes it like crazy.” 

“Ah.” Yeonjun says. Again, very eloquently. 

“Now, we’re gonna be late, so why don’t we head over to my car?” Soobin suggests. Yeonjun happily agrees, and keeps his mouth shut as they walk over to Soobin’s car. He doesn’t want to say something weird— or let out a weird squeak of noise— and risk weirding out the guy. Like his mom had said: friends = survival. 

“By the way, do you have any scent patches?” Soobin asks. 

“Uh, no. Why?” Yeonjun asks, drawing his scent in self-consciously. Did Soobin hate his scent? Did he think it wasn’t alpha enough? Or was he already mistaking Yeonjun for an omega (as did most people who met him) and thought he should be putting on scent patches? 

“The school has a rule that all students have to have on scent patches on school grounds,” Soobin explains. “Me and Beomgyu are wearing them too right now, which is why you probably don’t smell our scents.” 

Huh. That wasm’t a thing at Yeonjun’s old school. 

“I have a few extra that you can use for the day, but I would recommend getting some to use for the rest of the school year.” Soobin says and a gentle smile stretches across his face. Suddenly, he doesn’t look as intimidating as Yeonjun had made him out to be. Sure, he still looked like an alpha without any doubt— he radiated that energy— but he looked more… friendlier. 

Soobin shrugs his backpack off— it’s brown, but there are fluffy bunny keychains dangling off of them— and digs around it for a moment, before plucking out a single scent patch wrapped in a thin, white paper sheet. 

“Here,” he says, handing it to Yeonjun.

“Th— thank you.” Yeonjun nods, wincing at the catch in his voice. God, why couldn’t he talk normal around other kids his age?

They reach Soobin’s car, and now that Yeonjun’s standing directly in front of the house, it really is as huge as he thought it seemed from afar. The windows are all tinted so that no one could see anything inside— great privacy, Yeonjun mused. 

The front door banged open and Beomgyu bounced outside, now with a large, dark red guitar case in hand, swinging as he hurried over to them. 

“You can sit in the back,” Soobin says, opening the back door as Yeonjun mumbles a ‘thank you’. 

In the backseat is a black backpack with a bunch of keychains— ranging from red, glass cherries, to guitar picks on wires, to fluffy animal minature stuffies— with the zipper still undone, the various papers looking like they had all been shoved inside without care. Next to that, is a huge brown box with a lid on it. 

Yeonjun stood there for a long second, trying to figure out how he could sit with everything in that way— and his selective introvertedness was not about to ask Soobin or Beomgyu if he was allowed to move anything aside.

Luckily, a savior arrives for him. 

“Sorry,” Beomgyu says sheepishly, moving to his side. “I’ll move my bag so you can sit there. Oh, you don’t mind if I stick my guitar in the back with you, right?” The alpha asks. 

Yeonjun shakes his head. After all, he’s the one intruding and this is their car— they should be able to do whatever they wished to do. 

Beomgyu grabs his backpack, and in the motion a few papers fly out, and Soobin grabs them out of the air, clicking his tongue in disapproval as he hands them back to a grinning Beomgyu.

“If I hear one more teacher say you lost your homework, I’m telling them this is why.” He sighs. “Please, for the millionth time— stop giving the excuse that your dog ate your homework. We don’t even have a dog, Gyu!” 

“Yeah, yeah, okay. C’mon, drive old man! We’re gonna be late. Oh wait, maybe we should. Then I can tell everyone it was all your fault.” Beomgyu grins slyly. “Breaking news! Student body prez makes his brother and new guy late, all because he was scolding them and was too slow to get going!” He teases, ducking inside the car before Soobin’s swat made contact with its target.

Yeonjun doesn’t think it’s appropriate to laugh at someone he just met, and bites down on his lip as he ducks inside the car, situating himself on the backseat in place of Beomgyu’s backpack. 

But it’s funny. Beomgyu’s kinda funny. 

—

Soobin drives very slowly, as Yeonjun finds out, but they arrive on time so Yeonjun can’t complain. The school is milling with students, and a bell rings overhead. 

“Don’t worry, it’s just the first warning bell. It means we have ten minutes to get inside, get things from our lockers, and head to class. We have a lot of spare time.” Beomgyu explains. “Where do you need to go right now?”

“I— uhm… main office, I think.” Yeonjun replies. 

“Well, I have some files to drop off (“Again, he’s student body prez,” Beomgyu pipes up, putting an emphasis on the words) so I have to leave you now, but I’m sure Beomgyu can walk you to the main office.” Soobin says. “Right, Gyu?” 

Beomgyu nods enthusiastically. “Mhm! ‘Course I can!” 

Soobin bids Yeonjun goodbye with a nod— and gives Beomgyu a special ruffle of the hair in lieu of a goodbye— before disappearing into the crowd of students. 

Beomgyu slungs the strap of his guitar case over one shoulder, and his backpack on the other, before turning back to Yeonjun. 

“Alright, good news is, I know where the main office is!” He says.

“I would hope so,” Yeonjun snorts and then freezes. “Sorry. I mean—”

Beomgyu just laughs at him. 

“Aw, you’re funny. And yeah, I’d hate to be stuck with a guy who said they knew where they were going, but actually didn’t.” He says.

I’m… funny? Yeonjun blinks. Wow. That’s a first. 

Chapter Text

Beomgyu leads him into the school and down a bunch of hallways that has Yeonjun blinking in confusion. If it weren’t for Beomgyu, he would’ve never found the office. On the way, a guy from the soccer team (seeing his blue soccer jersey) punches his arm as he walks by, and Beomgyu grins at him, effortlessly sliding into a handshake and a shoulder bump mid-walk.

Not even a second later, a group of girls giggled as they came up to him— Beomgyu paused, and so Yeonjun did too— and they handed Beomgyu colorful notes and heart-shaped chocolate boxes, before giggling again and running off. 

Yeonjun frowns.

So Beomgyu was kind of a… popular guy here? Girls always liked boys in bands, guitar and all. Yeah, he was probably popular, with his good looks and electric guitar and whole alpha vibe— someone who knew what they were doing and didn’t care about judgement, someone who led the group, was in the eyes of everyone, soaked up the attention without meaning to, was the center of everything. 

Beomgyu runs into a couple more people on the way— a guy with boxy glasses who thanked him for the textbook, a girl with cropped hair and a basketball jersey who gave him a high-five as her girlfriend politely nodded in greeting, a teacher even stopped him to talk about how well Beomgyu did on his latest assignment. 

Beomgyu, it seemed, really was a popular guy, maybe even the guy of the school. He might’ve talked with Yeonjun (somewhat, it wasn’t much of a conversation if it was mostly one-sided) before school, but he probably wouldn’t ever again. He probably wouldn’t notice Yeonjun ever again— because popular guys like him— popular alphas like him— didn’t give a single fuck about kids like Yeonjun, especially if he wasn’t much of an alpha. 

So Yeonjun should probably make the most out of his kindness right now. He really wants to get ot the main office, but Beomgyu keeps being stopped by various people— and Yeonjun doesn’t have the guts to ask Beomgyu if they could just get going— which would mean ignoring everyone, so okay, fine, that was kinda rude but Yeonjun kinda had to get going and get his uniform so he could stop looking like such a loser. Already, a few kids had laughed at him, jabbing their fingers at his clothes. 

Again, Beomgyu must be some kind of angel in disguise because he turns to Yeonjun and gives a sheepish smile.

“Sorry— I keep getting side tracked by everyone. Let’s keep going.” He says and Yeonjun nods gratefully. Sadly, there’s yet another interuption before they could walk any further. 

“Yo, Gyu!” 

Both Beomgyu and Yeonjun turn to the voice— a tall, dark-haired guy in a red, basketball jersey and a ball under one arm is walking over, along with an even taller guy with white-blond hair in a black skeleton hoodie. The basketball guy waves his hand over his head with a huge grin as he walks over. 

“Heeseung! Ni-ki!” Beomgyu calls out with a grin that matches the enthusiastic one from the basketball guy. 

The two tall guys take turns fist bumping with Beomgyu, who laughs. They exchange more hoots of greeting, loud and energetic, and Yeonjun is stuck standing awkwardly— essentially a ghost as they talk and laugh together. 

“Oh my goodness, you won’t believe what happened this morning!” Beomgyu suddenly says. “I almost forgot my baby.”

Basketball guy groans, shaking his head dramatically. 

“Beomgyu~! You’re such an irresponsible dad! And we have practice today after school— forgetting your guitar.” He says. “How could you almost forget?” He asks in a mock-offended tone. 

“Hey— at least I have it now!” Beomgyu holds up his guitar, still snug in its case.

“Don’t forget we also have basketball practice after that,” Blond guy interjects with a sigh. “Coach is still mad we skipped last week’s practice because we lost track of time playing songs.” 

Basketball guy groans once again, even longer than before. 

“Right— fuck. He even called home about it— like who does that?!”

Beomgyu suddenly turns back to Yeonjun as if just remembering about him— like always, popular guys get so caught up in each other, they always forget about everybody else. Especially quiet guys like Yeonjun. 

“Oh, right! Yeonjun, this is Heeseung. He’s our school’s star basketball player and he’s also our band’s bassist— you know, the Joker Cards band I said I was in? And this is Ni-ki, our drummer. Oh, he’s also on the basketball team.” Beomgyu introduces, pointing to the basketball guy, then to the white-blond one. “We also have another member, Taehyun— he plays the keyboard— but he’s on library assistant duty right now. I’ll introduce you to him later. Guys, this is Yeonjun, the new guy.”

Heeseung and Ni-ki nod at him.

“Nice to meet you. Hey, what’s with the grandpa look?” Heeseung asks with a teasing grin, and Ni-ki elbows him with a look. 

“Don’t be mean, Heeseungie hyung.” 

“I was just teasing, sheesh!”  

Yeonjun’s face burns, and he ducks his head. He knew it— he fucking knew it. He looked like a total loser, and clearly, popular boys were all the same— running their mouth and acting like everything was just jokes. It probably was to them. 

“Excuse me,” He mumbles, and pushes past a startled Beomgyu and rushes down the hall. 

He hears Beomgyu call after him, but he ignores the other alpha and his friends. 

—

Yeonjun is undoubtably lost.

It’s his own fault for leaving Beomgyu just because his feelings got a little hurt— and yes, he should’ve expected someone to tease him about his clothes but… still. And now, he was left all alone among the crowd of other students— all unfamilar faces in their blue-uniform glory— and had absolutely no idea where to go. Why weren’t there any signs, preferably pointing to the main office? The students zoom past him in their little friend pairs and groups— some don’t even notice him, too busy with their friends or on their phone— and others point and snicker at him. 

He lets out a breathy sigh, swallowing his nerves down. Time to be brave, or else he was going to get nowhere. 

“Uh—” He says, jumping in front of a group of girls with the school uniform skirts snipped a little too short (but maybe that’s just Yeonjun’s opinion) and their hair combed almost all identically.

“Can we help you?” One of them snorts, looking him up and down with an amused smile. “And what’s with that old guy outfit? Toooo~tally out of trend.” 

“I, um—” Yeonjun swallows again. 

The girls snicker, whispering to each other as they side-eye him. 

“Yes?” The same girl rolls her eyes. “Literally talk.” 

Another girl with black hair steps forward, lips curled in a smirk.

“Well?” she prompts. “Cat got your tongue, Grandpa?”

Another girl beside her snorts, one hand over her mouth.

“Maybe he’s from the past. Like a time traveler or something. That would explain the thrift store look.” She snickers, talking as if Yeonjun wasn’t standing in front of her. 

“I bet he doesn’t even go here,” the third adds, flipping her hair. “Lost little ghost.” She mocks. 

Yeonjun flinches. His throat is dry, and for a second, he thinks maybe it’s better to just bolt again— but no. No. He needs directions. He has to get to the office. He can’t just wander around all day. He steels himself, fists clenching at his sides.

“I just…” He forces his voice out. “I’m… I’m trying to find the main office.”

The first girl squints at him.

“So you do go here. Ugh.”

“Guess he’s the new kid,” another whispers loudly, like it’s scandalous information. “Beomgyu was walking with him earlier.”

“Beomgyu?” The ringleader’s tone changes slightly— something sharper now, maybe interest, maybe judgment— who knows, not Yeonjun that was for sure. “Wait, you know Beomgyu?”

Yeonjun hesitates.

“Uhm.. N— Not really. He was just… just um, helping me get to the office.”

All four girls exchange looks, and the ringleader gives a short, incredulous laugh.

“Okay, that makes way more sense. Beomgyu’s, like, nice to everyone,” she says, still smiling— but it’s sharp. There isn’t a hint of warmth in it. “Aww. Don’t read into it too much then, alright?”

The second girl points vaguely down the hall.

“It’s that way, then left. Try not to get lost again, Grandpa.”

Yeonjun nods stiffly.

“Um, thanks,” he mutters, trying to keep his voice steady as he ducks his head and walks in the direction she gestured.

He hears them laughing behind him before he even gets halfway down the hall.

“Poor thing looked like he was about to cry.”

“Maybe Beomgyu felt bad for him.”

“Oh my god, imagine Beomgyu hanging out with that. Eww.”

Yeonjun’s steps quicken. His ears are burning and his stomach twists, cold and tight. He should’ve just waited for Beomgyu. He shouldn’t have left. He shouldn't have thought— even for a second— that he mattered to someone like that, and he should’ve just waited for Beomgyu to get him to the office, and taken in what he could then.

He keeps walking, fists clenched, jaw tight.

He just needs to make it through today.

Just one day. One day and then he would be back home. 

—

Yeonjun finds the main office and the secretary greets him warmly, welcoming him to White Rose High and handing him a package uniform and a file with his schedule matrix; he had six classes a day with lunch in between, with classes rotating throughout the week.

“And since you just moved here— and we’re admitting you earlier than usual, it’s all just the general classes students take, plus a few art electives. It’s the only classes with empty slots right now, so I apologize,” The secretary says. “But! We do have a lot of interesting clubs and sports teams here that you can join. Let’s see… we have the basketball team, the soccer team, volleyball… and we have the photography club, art club, writer’s club… There’s a list by the bulletin board outside, and the club leader contacts should all be on there!” 

Yeonjun bows his head politely. 

“Thank you. I… is there somewhere I can change, uhm… in— into my uniform?” He asks softly. 

She nods. 

“There’s a boys bathroom just across the hall. It’s separated by second gender too, and male omegas are on the left.” She says warmly.

Yeonjun’s face burns once again. 

“I… I’m an alpha.” He mumbles out. 

The secretary’s eyes widen. “Oh! Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry dear! Just… with the scent patch and…” She trails off, but Yeonjun doesn’t need to hear the rest. He knows— he knows how un-alpha-like he is, and how he seems so much like some omega. And this wasn’t the first time he was mistaken for one but… 

Yeonjun ducks his head and excuses himself, before rushing out. The bulletin board is by the door, and sure enough, there’s a long list of clubs— after closer examination, some have red tapes on it saying, FULL, NO SPOTS AVALIABLE. And… among the other club advertizement posters, is a bright yellow poster with a rockstar silhouette with giant, bolded words:

JOKER CARDS (School Band)

We’re an official band outside of school, but we’re looking for anyone who plays an instrument that wants to play in our band school-wise!

-> Come talk to Beomgyu (Room 207)

Or 

-> DM @JOKERCARDS_BAND on Insta

(P.S. We have a few official albums out, so check them out!!!)

Yeonjun looks away. Again, Beomgyu— it’s like he’s everywhere. He shuffles into the bathroom and quickly changes into his uniform, shoving his schedule in his pocket. After a few long moment of hesitation, he works up the courage to ask the secretary where his classes were. She kindly showed him, apologized to him once again, and then he was on his way.

—

Yeonjun finally ends up in lunch period, and somehow, he manages to find the cafeteria. It’s a large circular area under a huge glass dome, letting the sunlight shine over all the tables. Students fill almost all the tables, and the murmur of chatter fills the air. It’s so different from his old school, where the cafeteria was too small for the number of kids, the peeling brown walls and the dim lighting that flickered every so often. This new school definitely got a lot of funding. 

He finds a good spot at a table in the far corner, and sets down his backpack, before shuffling into the lunch line. He keeps his head ducked, hoping he wouldn’t have to talk to any of the lunch staff— and thankfully, all he has to do is grab what he wants (Beomgyu was right; the school lunches are way better here than at his old school) and scan his lunch pay-card. 

Students seem to stare at him as he passes by, so he hurries over back to his seat, hoping they’d stop staring at him. (And embarrassingly enough, when he does finally look up, everyone’s busy doing their own thing; no one had been staring at all.) 

Yeonjun begins eating; a still-steaming tteokkbokki in a plastic bowl, white rice and some kimchi, and a bowl of eomuk broth with plenty of fish cakes in it. Beomgyu had not been kidding around when he said the school lunches were amazing. 

He’s in the middle of shoving another piece of tteokbokki in his mouth when he spots a familiar brown-haired boy with his guitar case slung over his shoulder. He’s standing a few tables away with the two band/basketball boys from earlier— Ni-ki and Heeseung, Yeonjun recalls— laughing as Heeseung nudges him. Then Heeseung’s whispering something into Ni-ki’s ear, and the latter bursts out laughing. Then he hits Heeseung’s shoulder playfully, and Beomgyu’s leaning forward. 

“Seung, Gyu, Ki!” 

Yeonjun glances over at the voice, as Beomgyu and his friends do too. 

A boy with dusty pink hair and round boba eyes walks over to the trio, and his eyes immediately narrow at Beomgyu. He quickens his pace and upon arrival, he flicks at Beomgyu’s forehead, though it’s too gentle to hurt. 

“Hey, that hoodie’s mine!” He huffs— loud enough that Yeonjun could hear him from where he was seated. 

Beomgyu glances down at it. 

“Huh. Is it?” He asks. “I found it on the floor in my room, and I thought it was mine.” 

“Wow, the absolute nerve,” Pink Hair says, but his lips curl upwards. “I guess I must’ve left it over at your house yesterday or something.”

Beomgyu hums. “Probably. Whatever— I promise I won’t spill anything on it, so just let me wear it for today. I don’t even have anything under it!”

Pink Hair wrinkles his nose. 

“Ugh— TMI, Beomgyu, TMI!” He complains. “Fine, fine. You really better not get anything on it! It’s my favorite one!” He pretends to throw a punch and Beomgyu lets out a peal of laughter as he dodges it. 

Yeonjun watches as Beomgyu and Pink Hair playfully bicker as they throw their bags (and guitar, in Beomgyu’s case) down at the table two down from Yeonjun’s. He ducks his head, hoping Beomgyu wouldn’t spot him and make things awkward— or well, it was Yeonjun’s fault really, for running away like that earlier. Beomgyu’s feelings probably got hurt. Or his pride, that too. 

He shoves in another fish cake, watching from the corner of his eye as Beomgyu and Pink Hair go to the lunch line, with Ni-ki and Heeseung trailing after, the two in their own little conversation behind the other two. 

Yeonjun looks down at his tray again, trying not to be the weird guy who stared at Beomgyu like he was a stalker or something. The next time he looks up (it’s on accident, really) Beomgyu and Pink Hair are seated at their table again, lunch trays in front of them. 

He watches as Beomgyu plucks a fry from Pink Hair’s tray, and as the latter rolls his eyes and slides over half of his lunch. 

“My god— stop stealing my fries!” Pink Hair complains.

Beomgyu grins cheekily. “Hey— sharing is caring, Taehyun! Husband rule number one!” 

Yeonjun blinks and looks back down at his lunch tray. 

“You got a crush on him?”

Yeonjun jerks his head at the voice. It’s a blond guy with slightly foreigner features and a giant smile on his face, who is suddenly sitting next to Yeonjun in the seat that previously, no one had been on. So where the heck did this kid come from?!

“Huh?” He says intelligently.

The guy laughs. 

“Everyone has a crush on him— Choi Beomgyu— at some point, whether they realize it or not. It’s like, tradition, for everyone at this school.” The guy says. “I’m Huening Kai. I’ve never seen you around before. Huh… You new here?” 

“Yeah. And I do not have a crush on him,” Yeonjun says, glancing at Beomgyu who was now throwing his head back in laughter at something Pink Hair said (what was even so funny?), “And besides, I’m also an alpha— and I’m uhm, not really… attracted to other alphas.” 

Kai blinks. “…You do realize Choi Beomgyu is an omega?” 

Yeonjun stares back at him. “What?!” 

“He’s an omega.” Kai repeats. “…You didn’t know?” Kai asks, sounding puzzled.

“No!” Yeonjun says, snapping his head back at Beomgyu. Sure he had soft features— but he didn’t give omega vibes, not that shy, soft, sweet vibe most omegas showcased. 

“Well… huh. If you didn’t know, guess you know now!” Kai grins again. 

Beomgyu swats at Pink Hair and then leans his head on the latter’s shoulder with a laughter-filled sigh. 

“…So, who’s that guy? In the pink hair? Is he… Beomgyu’s alpha or something?” Yeonjun asks a little bitterly. 

Kai bursts out laughing.

“What? No, that’s Kang Taehyun. He’s also an omega— and he’s Beomgyu’s best friend. They call each other ‘platonic husband’ and they’re real close. I think they were friends since birth. They live right next door to each other, I hear.” He explains. “My god, that’s the most hilarious thing I’ve heard all day!” He snorts. “Taehyun as Beomgyu’s alpha? Ha! Good one!” 

Yeonjun’s cheeks feel hot. 

Chapter Text

“Taehyun’s in our school’s rock band with Beomgyu— along with that white-blond guy and that dark-haired guy in the jersey. It’s called the Joker Cards— a four-member band, that’s an actual one outside of school, with their own gigs and albums on Dotify.” Kai says. “They started off as a little music club here— and bam! Now they’re an actual band, like it’s crazy! They still play for our school though, during festivals and whatnot.” 

He pauses for a moment. 

“Hey, I heard they’re looking to recruit new members— school-wise. I mean, they’re all tight, and I have the impression they don’t want anyone joining their band— but of course, Principal Wang insisted they get more people to join, and so they were all like, fine, and made a poster— and made it explicitly clear it’s just for during school and stuff, like they’re are not letting anyone join the real deal, you know? I wanted to join, but then I was like— I am not getting in the middle of anything, so like, bye!” He rambles. 

Yeonjun winces. Kai is a chatterbox— he had a lot to say about the band, didn’t he? 

“Anyways— what’s your name?” Kai asks, turning his wide eyes towards Yeonjun. 

“Yeonjun,” he mumbles. “Choi Yeonjun.”

“Aww, you have the surname as Beomgyu! Oh, and Soobin too.” Kai cooes. “That’s cute. So, Mister Totally Doesn’t Have A Crush On Beomgyu… why’re you sitting all alone? I heard rumors circling the new guy was with Beomgyu walking into school today.” 

Yeonjun sighs. 

“Beomgyu was just being nice. We’re not friends.”

“Ah, so that’s why you’re not sitting with them? Figures. I mean, even I’m a bit intimidated to ask to sit with them— those four are like The Plastics… except they’re all really nice, in and out.… the four of them are the it boys, you know?”

“Popular? Yeah, I can tell.” Yeonjun mumbles. “I get it.” 

Kai laughs. “Being popular isn’t like, a big thing, here. Only five people, really, are considered quote unquote popular. The Joker Cards members, them four— and Choi Soobin, Beomgyu’s older brother. Usually, no one likes the student body prez with all the rules he enforces and stuff, but this year, we got a good one. Everyone likes Choi Soobin because he’s so friendly and nice, and you know, he’s also got the looks. He could scream at you for something stupid, and you’d be awestruck by his godly visuals to care much,” Kai sighs dreamily. 

“Do you have a crush?” Yeonjun asks.

For once, socialization isn’t too hard! Probably because Kai was doing most of the talking but… hey! Maybe his social-stage-fright was disappearing! (Not likely, but one could hope.)

Kai snorts. 

“Pfft, no— not in a romantic way. It’s more of an idol crush. Like, he’s just so cool, you know?”

Yeonjun thinks back to the tall alpha he had met earlier. He was a bit… scary at first, but then he seemed friendly after he smiled and started playfully scolding with Beomgyu. Yeah, he could kinda see Soobin as the popular school prez. Obviously not popular in the way Beomgyu and his band was, but still popular with everyone. Something Yeonjun could only dream of being. 

Yeonjun hums. 

“I see…”

He goes back to eating his lunch. He doesn’t have forever after all. 

“So?” Kai grins. 

Yeonjun blinks. “So…?” 

The blond boy shakes his head with an amused expression.

“You gonna join their band? Like school-wise, obviously.”

Yeonjun is confused. Had he missed something?

“What? Why…?” He furrows his brows. “Why would I ever join their band?” 

Kai looks at him like he’s stupid. Maybe Yeonjun is— he certainly feels like it with how Kai’s looking at him. 

“So you can get closer to your not-crush? Duh!” He says.

Yeonjun gapes at Kai, and then shakes his head once it all processes into his muddled brain.

“I told you— I don’t have a crush,” He sighs. “Seriously. I don’t.” 

“Well… then, at least to befriend him? I mean, I can’t be your only bestie around here!” Kai says. 

“…Bestie?” Yeonjun echoes, not believing his ears.

“Yeah! I mean… unless you don’t wanna be friends?” Kai raises his eyebrows, as if challenging him to argue. 

“No, no! I do!” Yeonjun says quickly. “I just… I don’t know why you would be friends with me out of all people… and you just met me.” God, he sounds like such a loser. 

Kai shrugs. 

“So? Loners stick together, isn’t that the motto?”

Yeonjun stares at him.

“You… You’re a loner?” He finally chooses to ask. 

Kai’s face falls a little bit. 

“I… talk too much.” He says quietly. “Ramble off about stuff and… I guess most people don’t really like me. Plus, I don’t look very Korean, nor fully Asian so… yeah. Kinda a loner around here. White Rose is amazing until you get to know people.”

“Oh.” Yeonjun says, equally somber.

“I mean, there are a lot of good kids— genuinely nice,” Kai says. “But… there’s also the usual bullies and… the ones who aren’t mean, but they also aren’t very nice either.” He shrugs, trying to act like it didn’t bother him and he was all cool about it all. 

“Well… we can be friends,” Yeonjun shoots Kai a small smile. “Loser sticks together, right?” 

Kai grins. “Cool. Okay, see you soon! Maybe we can share a class or two if you’re lucky,” he winks. “I need to get a head start before the big rush so I can get to my locker and make it in time for Sociology.” 

“I’m done too. Lemme go with you.” Yeonjun stands up. 

Kai brightens up.

“Really? You don’t mind walking with me?”

Yeonjun shakes his head.

“Nope. Lead the way.” He says. 

Kai happily starts toward the hallway, pushing open the cafeteria doors.

“Sociology’s all the way in the West Wing, which is stupidly far from here. Honestly, I’m convinced the school was designed like a maze just to see how many students they could lose on the first day.”

Yeonjun lets out a surprised laugh, and Kai shoots him a pleased look.

“Oh hey— that laugh! You should do it more. I was starting to think you only knew how to frown.”

Yeonjun ducks his head but doesn’t deny it.

“…Maybe I’ll laugh more when you stop talking for two seconds.” He attempts at a joke— praying Kai didn’t take it the wrong way because he didn’t want to loose the first chance at a friend here. 

Kai gasps dramatically.

“Excuse me?! I am delightful.”

“You’re loud.” Yeonjun grins back, relieved Kai played along with his joking. 

“Loud and delightful,” Kai corrects with a smug grin. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re tagging along. I was getting tired of walking these halls alone every single day. Oof, so boring without friends, you know?”

They pass by a few students out of the lunch wave— some nod at Kai (classmates maybe), others glance curiously at Yeonjun, likely recognizing him as the “new guy” from this morning. Yeonjun keeps his head down, but Kai doesn’t seem fazed at all.

“Word of advice,” Kai says under his breath as they turn a corner. “If you do wanna be friends with Beomgyu— like real friends— just be chill. He’s nice, but... he’s a bit guarded too. Especially with new people. Like, he’s friendly— but he won’t open up too quick. And his bandmates are kinda, like, super protective. His older brother too.”

Yeonjun hums. “Alright. Thanks, I guess, for telling me.” 

“But,” Kai adds with a wink, “he did walk in with you this morning. That’s not nothing.”

Yeonjun feels his ears warm.

“That doesn’t mean anything.” He mumbles. 

Kai grins. “Sure. Totally.”

Yeonjun lightly shoves him and Kai laughs. 

They arrive at the lockers near what Yeonjun is told is the West Wing, and Kai starts fiddling with his combination.

“Okay, this is me. So! What class do you have next?”

Yeonjun pulls out his crumpled schedule from his pocket.

“Uh… Sociology. Room 207.”

Kai practically beams. “No way! We do have a class together. Fates have aligned!”

Yeonjun snorts, but… yeah, he’s kind of glad too.

Maybe today isn’t so bad after all.

—

Yeonjun should’ve expected it when he saw the grey clouds that morning— even if they had temporarily disappeared during lunch period. The clouds showered rain down heavily, and just Yeonjun’s luck, he had no umbrella. But who needs that when he has a car ride? Yeonjun texts his mom.

YJ-

Mom? Can you or dad pick me up today? 

The reply comes a few minutes later.

Mom-

Sorry Junnie, your dad’s still at work and I had to drive over to the next town. I won’t be back till late, and so will your dad. You think you can find a bus or something? Get home safely, love you, see you soon!

Well, just Yeonjun’s luck; he didn’t have a ride either. 

The gods above must be watching because guess who he sees? Choi Beomgyu strolling outside the school building, just a couple feet away from Yeonjun. And… well, he lived on the same street (ish, did the dead-end count as part of the street?) and… it was the ride he’d gotten on his way here so…

“Uhm—” Yeonjun says, jogging up to Beomgyu. “Hi.”

The al— no, omega— glances up at him and blinks.

“Oh, Yeonjun! Hey, I haven’t seen you all day.” He greets with the same smile he’d given Yeonjun when they’d first met. “What’s up?” 

Yeonjun swallows.  

“I… I was wondering if you could give me a ride home? I’m sorry, I just—” 

“Sure!” Beomgyu cuts him off with a grin. “Let me just grab the keys from Soobin hyung.”  

“He’s not coming?” Yeonjun asks, surprised. 

“Yeah, he has some meetings after school, so I’ll be driving! Don’t worry, I have my license!” Beomgyu winks. “Oh, and Taehyun’s coming over to my house, so he’s gonna ride with us. Hope you don’t mind!”

“I— I don’t.” Yeonjun manages to say. 

Beomgyu flashes him another smile before disappearing back into the school building.

Yeonjun exhales shakily.

Why was asking for a ride making his stomach do flips? He’d come to school today that way— and okay, it was a bit embarrassing admitting he didn’t have a ride home and that he didn’t know how to find a bus to get home either, and… 

It’s not a big deal. Just a ride. They live (sort of) on the same street. This wasn’t weird. This wasn’t weird at all.

…Right?

He’s still mentally debating that when the door swings open again, and Beomgyu walks out— now holding a jangly pair of keys and followed by someone shorter, dressed in all black, with earphones still in. The Pink Hair dude from lunch. 

“Oh, hey!” Beomgyu says. “Yeonjun, this is Taehyun. He’s our bassist and my husband— platonically.”

Taehyun raises an eyebrow, giving Yeonjun a brief up-down before offering a small nod.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Yeonjun mumbles, trying not to sound weird. Or too breathy. Or like he was second-guessing every single word coming out of his mouth.

Taehyun seems a bit intimidating too now that he’s not laughing and jokingly annoyed with Beomgyu like he had been at lunch. But considering he wasn’t being mean either, so… that was good. 

The three of them head toward the student parking lot, rain soaking through their shoes. Beomgyu unlocks the car (Soobin’s car) with a beep and hops into the driver’s seat, with Taehyun getting in the passenger side like it’s second nature. Yeonjun hovers awkwardly for a second before opening the back door and sliding in behind them.

It’s warm in the car. And then— soft cherries bloom as Beomgyu peels off his scent patch with a small groan. It curls around the air and around Yeonjun, drawing him in. Now, it’s impossible to mistake Beomgyu for anything else than an omega— soft, sweet— cherries blending with sweetened whipped cream. 

Yeonjun tightens his grip on his backpack.

Beomgyu glances at him through the rearview mirror.

“You good back there? Oh shit— wait, I’m sorry, I should’ve asked if it was okay if I took the patch off.”

Yeonjun shakes his head. “No, it’s fine. And… um… thank you again. For the ride.”

“No problem,” Beomgyu hums, and then he’s adjusting the music as the car rumbles to life. A mellow alt-rock song plays— not too loud, just enough to fill the silence. “Hope you like DAY6. Taehyun has a playlist for every mood.”

“I do,” Taehyun says, not looking up from his phone. “This one’s called Rainy Days and Awkward Silences.”

Yeonjun chokes on a laugh, surprised. Taehyun smirks just barely.

Beomgyu grins.

“Tae, don’t bully my passengers.”

“I’m not. I’m entertaining them,” Taehyun replies, reclining in his seat. “There’s a big difference.”

Yeonjun lets himself smile a little, settling into the backseat.

Taehyun glances at him. 

“So… you an omega too?” He asks casually as he starts peeling off his scent patch. “We’re all omegas here?”

Yeonjun stiffens up. 

“Ah— I—

He’s about to say it. Alpha. That he’s not an omega. That Taehyun’s assumption is wrong. That he isn’t like them in that way.

But Taehyun’s already tugging off his scent patch and groaning about how itchy it is, cutting off any space for Yeonjun’s correction.

“My goodness, these scent patches are literally gonna kill me!” Taehyun sighs heavily. “They itch like crazy. Like, I get it— why we need scent patches during school, what with hormone-crazy alphas and omegas all packed into one building. But they itch.”

Yeonjun opens his mouth again, but Beomgyu’s already jumping in:

“I have some of that anti-itch cream in my room. I’ll give it to you when we get home.” Beomgyu says, his eyes on the road, voice light and easy. He’s surprisingly a good driver for someone who looks so… chaotic. In a good way, of course.

Yeonjun sinks back into the seat.

It’s not like he lied. He just didn’t correct them.

Still… the weight of it presses against his ribs.

He doesn’t want to be mistaken for something he’s not— but he also doesn’t want them to look at him differently. He doesn’t want Beomgyu to shift even a fraction away.

So instead, he says nothing.

For now.

Chapter Text

His gut is a bit twisted with that (kinda) lie, but Yeonjun can’t help a small smile at Beomgyu and Taehyun’s dynamic. It’s so natural— it’s the kind of comfort only longtime friends have. He feels like an outsider… but not completely. More like someone peeking into a window and being offered a place at the table, if he chooses to step inside. He wants to, he really does. 

A comfortable silence settles for a few minutes, the kind that comes with rainy drives and good music. Kudos to Taehyun for that. Maybe being part of a rock band made him have good music tastes too. 

“We’re almost there,” Beomgyu says, making a turn. “Yeonjun. Do you wanna be dropped off first, or do you wanna hang out for a bit?”

Yeonjun blinks. “Hang out…?”

“At my place. I mean, you don’t have to. But we’ve got snacks and dry clothes and games and stuff. Plus, I promised Tae anti-itch cream and he’ll probably forget to leave unless I kick him out, so we’re gonna have a lil party.”

“I don’t forget,” Taehyun mutters. “I ignore.”

Yeonjun hesitates. He should probably go home. But… the idea of not going back to an empty house just yet is suddenly kind of appealing. His parents wouldn’t be home till much later and… it’s not like he had to be home so soon. 

“…Okay,” he says, voice quiet. “If that’s okay with you.”

Beomgyu flashes him a grin in the mirror.

“Of course it is! You’re always welcome.”

—

The rain’s still coming down when they pull into the driveway of Beomgyu’s house, still as majestic as this morning— not too hard, but steady enough to blur the windshield until the wipers swipe it clean again.

Beomgyu parks and unbuckles with the same chaotic energy he seems to radiate everywhere else (the metal part hits the window with so much force Yeonjun fears it would break the glass), but he waits for both boys before bolting for the door.

“We run on three?”

“No,” Taehyun says, already climbing out.

“Yes,” Beomgyu insists, grabbing his backpack. “One— two— go!”

By the time Yeonjun catches up, they’re all half-drenched and laughing, stomping through the door and kicking off wet shoes as they tumble inside, into a long foyer with a glittery diamond chandelier-shaped lighting.

“Make yourselves at home!” Beomgyu calls, tossing his hoodie on a hook by the entrance. “Taehyun, go change before you whine more— you know where my room is. And Yeonjun— uh, the guest room’s got some of Soobin hyung’s old clothes. You’re taller than me, so those might fit better.”

Taehyun disappears down the hallway without much fanfare, already grumbling about itchy patches and damp socks. He seems to know his way around— probably came here a lot since he and Beomgyu were little. 

Yeonjun stands awkwardly in the foyer, unsure where to go.

Beomgyu notices right away.

“C’mon,” he says, gently tugging Yeonjun by the wrist. His fingers are cold, but Yeonjun’s skin warms at the touch. “I’ll show you.”

And just like that, Yeonjun follows— into the hallway, past framed photos and the low hum of classical music playing on a speaker in the living room.

The warmth of the house seeps into his bones, and does Beomgyu’s touch around his wrist.

—

Beomgyu’s room is exactly what Yeonjun expected… and yet, not at all.

The walls are painted black and so is the ceiling, though the door still remains the original wooden brown color; posters of rock bands and concert shots are taped all over the walls in a deliberate mess. Some corners are peeling, revealing bits of white wall beneath, but it makes the whole thing feel lived-in. The furniture— all of it— are made of dark wood, sleek and neat, but with scratches here and there, like they’ve been through years of chaos. The bedsheets are red— deep red, almost wine-colored— and there are cherry-themed decorations scattered everywhere. Cherry-printed pillows, a cherry-shaped lamp, even a little tray with cherry lip balm and cherry-scented hand cream. 

Yeonjun blinks. “You… really like cherries, huh?”

Beomgyu tosses a towel at him and laughs.

“Duh. They’re my favorite. Kind of obsessed. But like, classy obsessed. Not creepy.” He laughs, and Yeonjun looks down, smiling faintly. “It’s also my own scent— I loved cherries since forever, and I guess my scent wanted to match that!” 

The room fits him. Loud and soft all at once. A bit chaotic, a mix of rockstar and cherries— it’s just so… Choi Beomgyu. 

Taehyun is already sprawled on the floor with a snack bag open, towel draped around his neck like a cape.

“You can sit anywhere,” he says casually like he’s the room’s owner, mouth full of chips. Beomgyu nods for him to go ahead, so that gives him permission from the actual owner. 

Yeonjun settles on the edge of the bed, towel still clutched in his hands, careful not to disturb anything. Everything smells like faint cherries and fresh linen. It’s… He’s not used to all this, going over to someone’s house. He’s not sure what to do with himself.

“So…” Beomgyu says, flopping next to Taehyun on the floor and grabbing a controller. “If you were a band member, what would you play?”

“Huh?” Yeonjun blinks.

“Instruments,” Taehyun explains, licking salt off his fingers. “What’s your vibe?”

Yeonjun thinks about it for a second.

“Maybe… guitar? Rhythm, not the lead though.”

Beomgyu beams.

“Nice choice. Understated but essential. That’s definitely your vibe.” 

Yeonjun doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he just shrugs, the compliment sticking to his ribs like honey. It’s something he’s not very used to but… it’s also so welcoming. Beomgyu’s words wrap around him and his heart like a thin veil of warmth. 

They fall into casual conversation— half about music, half about their weirdest teachers (which Yeonjun don’t know himself)— and Yeonjun starts to laugh more freely, shoulders slowly un-knotting. Somewhere in the middle of Taehyun’s rant about gym class rules, Yeonjun leans back against Beomgyu’s wall (having moved to the floor to join the other two), eyes flicking around the posters as they talk. 

He almost forgets what’s been sitting heavy in his chest all day.

Keyword being, almost.

When Taehyun leaves to use the bathroom and Beomgyu’s fiddling with a new playlist, the quiet settles. It’s just the two of them for a minute.

Yeonjun swallows. His hands twist in the hem of his borrowed shirt.

“Hey, um…” he starts, voice low. “Earlier, in the car… you guys assumed I was an omega, but I’m actually—”

“Oh no,” Beomgyu says suddenly, glancing at his phone. “Taehyun’s texting me from the bathroom. He says the soap smells like artificial cherries and he’s gonna go a bit crazy because it’s giving him a headache.”

Yeonjun blinks. The moment slips through his fingers.

Beomgyu looks up again, grinning apologetically. “Sorry, what were you saying…?”

Yeonjun opens his mouth… then closes it.

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs.

Beomgyu just nods and throws a cherry-shaped pillow at his face.

“You’re weird, you know that?”

Yeonjun catches it with both hands and hugs it to his chest.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “I know.”

—

Before he knows it, Taehyun has to go home for dinner and that’s his cue to excuse himself too. 

“I better get going. Any chance you’ll drive me over?” Taehyun asks, looking a bit hopeful. 

Beomgyu laughs. “Not a chance! Just walk over— it’s literally next door, Tae! You’ll survive a bit of rain the way there.” 

Taehyun huffs. “Ugh. Rain. I hate it when I’m outside.” 

“Shoo— before it gets worse and you come complaining even more.” Beomgyu chuckles. “Oh, and I’ll give you back your hoodie tomorrow after I run it through the wash.” 

Taehyun nods.

“Love you, Gyu, see ya.” He says and swiftly leaves, his vanilla scent lingering faintly for a few moments. It pairs well with the cherry scent from Beomgyu, curling around everywhere in the room-- it was his room after all. 

“I, uhm… I have to go too. Thank you for today. It was— it was fun.” Yeonjun smiles. 

Beomgyu grins back at him. 

“Yeah? I’m glad. Oh, do you need a ride? Your house is farther away than Taehyun’s so if you need one, I can!” He offers. 

Yeonjun shakes his head. 

“It’s fine, I can walk.” He says.

“Okay Mr. Tough Guy,” Beomgyu teases. “Bye. See you around, Yeonjun. Wait, how old are you again?”

“Eighteen.”

“What, really?! Oh my god, I thought we were the same age, but you’re the same age as Soobin hyung? Ugh, I’m gonna have to call you hyung, huh? I’m seventeen.” Beomgyu pouts. “Bye then, Yeonjun hyung.” He puts an emphasis on the honorific. 

Yeonjun grins, heart warming at Beomgyu’s voice calling him ‘hyung’ and nods. 

“Bye… Beomgyu.” He says softly, and then he finally leaves. 

Beomgyu’s cherry scent lingers around him and in his nose even when he’s on the front steps of his (new) house. 

—

Yeonjun managed to do a little research over the evening and found a public bus that would drop him off just a block away from White Rose High. He took that bus for his second day, missing Soobin and Beomgyu’s morning bickering— even though it had only been one ride that he’d witnessed it. 

Yeonjun runs into Beomgyu too often— maybe the universe wanted them to interact as much as possible. When he enters the school, Beomgyu is leaning on the nearest wall and he’s talking with Heeseung. The boy is in his jersey again, but today, he has sweatpants on instead of the shorts from yesterday. 

“—and I thought you had practice this morning! Don’t you have to head over, Mister Star Player?” Beomgyu asks. “Or did Ms. Song finally convince your coach to get you attending her class in the mornings?” 

Heeseung snorts. “As if Coach would let her. Nah, I still have practice— but I was taking a stroll around ‘cause it doesn’t start till eight. Perks of being needed— I get to skip out on boring history class every morning!” 

“Lucky you,” Beomgyu rolls his eyes. “I still have that after first period.”

“Ohh, lemme guess. You have Mr. Jeong first? Algebra?” Heeseung tilts his head.

Beomgyu nods miserably. 

“Yeah. I would skip, but obviously, Soobin hyung will be after my head if I do… and I’m not the kind of kid who skips... What a tragedy.” He sighs. 

“Your mischevious ass would definitely be the type who skips,” Heeseung teases. “You just don’t.”

“I don’t,” Beomgyu agrees. “And I—”

“Excuse me?”

Yeonjun watches from a distance, busying himself in digging around his backpack (he was curious, okay?), as a tall guy with dirty blond hair and a black-white jeresy (soccer…?) comes up to Beomgyu and Heeseung, though his eyes are focused on Beomgyu.

“Hi,” Beomgyu smiles, pushing off the wall. “What’s up?”

The tall guy tilts his head.

“Choi Beomgyu, you’re insanely pretty— and you have a good body too. Why don’t you make good use of it and go out with me, yeah? Pretty omegas like you should have a good alpha— like me.” 

Beomgyu looks instantly uncomfortable. His smile drops, and his eyes widen in surprise. 

“Sorry Jaeseok, I’ll… politely decline.” He finally says with a shaky smile. 

The alpha rolls his eyes. 

“Oh, don’t be such a tease. Just go out with me, yeah?” He grunts.

Heeseung steps forward with narrowed eyes, the humor and laughter snapped right out of his expression. He suddenly looks so much taller as he towers over the alpha, and his face grows dark.

“Fuck off. He said he’s not interested.” He growls. 

The other alpha huffs. 

“Got an alpha knight, eh?” He sneers at Beomgyu. “Fine.” 

Then he’s strolling off again, scowling with his hands in his pockets. Clearly upset at the rejection that he fully deserved. Yeonjun wants to roll his eyes at him. He didn’t know such assholes still existed. 

“You know that guy?” Heeseung was saying to Beomgyu, bending a little to really meet Beomgyu’s eyes, face all softened up as he looked at his friend. 

Beomgyu nods. “Yeah. Gwon Jaeseok. He’s… He’s in the same French 2 class as me. I… It’s not a big deal. Let’s just go now.”

“Beomgyu, this isn’t just something to—” Heeseung starts but Beomgyu shakes his head. 

“This happens to all omegas, like it or not, Seungie. Just brush it off. I’m fine. I… I always forget I’m still an omega at the end of the day.” He smiles sadly. “I feel so powerful when everyone treats me like me— just guitarist Beomgyu— and then… something happens and I’m omega Beomgyu again.”

“Beomgyu…” 

“Just let it go. Thank you for helping me out— and I’m fine, really.” Beomgyu shakes his head once more. “Go— you have practice. Don’t make me text Ni-ki to drag you off.” 

Heeseung sighs, looking frustrated. 

“…Alright. You really sure you’re good?”

“Yeah,” Beomgyu says with a smile that’s almost too convincing.  

Chapter Text

Yeonjun continues digging around in his backpack, watching from the corner of his eye as Beomgyu shooes Heeseung off with a smile he probably thinks is convincing. The tall, doe-eyed alpha walks away reluctantly, throwing Beomgyu a worried glance before disappearing around the corner.

Beomgyu lets out a long sigh. His shoulders curl in, making him look smaller as he pulls out his phone; it has a black case with red guitar, black cats, and a mess of cherry stickers— definitely Choi Beomgyu’s phone case. He taps around on it for a few seconds. His brows furrow at the screen, and then he slowly starts down the hall, steps quiet. 

Yeonjun hesitates.

Should he go after him? Ask if he’s okay?

Well, clearly he wasn’t. Not really.

But… what was the right thing to do here?

Beomgyu looked upset, even if he was trying to hide it— and maybe he didn’t want to talk. But was it okay to just leave him like that? Should… Should Yeonjun go after him? 

But before Yeonjun could decide, Beomgyu was already gone.

Yeonjun lets out a breath and shuffles to class. Yeah. It was better not to have gone. 

Beomgyu wasn’t his friend. Probably didn’t want Yeonjun hovering around being weird and nosy. He didn’t even know him at all— and sure Beomgyu had been kind enough to let Yeonjun hang out with him yesterday, but he probably just felt sorry for him. 

Yeah. Better to leave him be.

Even if Yeonjun kind of… didn’t want to.

—

Yeonjun slides into his seat in the back corner of the classroom (it’s Economics), pulling out his notebook and trying to look like he’s paying attention as the teacher drones on about something he should probably be writing down. He taps his pen against the desk instead.

He shouldn’t care this much. Beomgyu was… well, he was cool, popular, had a band, had tons of friends. Beomgyu didn’t need him of all people. He had plenty of friends to worry about him— and like Kai offhandedly mentioned yesterday, Beomgyu had his band of friends to be protective over him. Clearly Heeseung was— and he’d drawn off the weird alpha earlier, and Beomgyu was okay. (Well, maybe.)

His mind keeps drifting back to that furrow in Beomgyu’s brow. The way his shoulders had slumped like he was trying to disappear. The way his fingers gripped his phone a little too tightly. The expression on his face. 

Yeonjun tells himself it’s not a big deal. 

But—

That look. That moment before Beomgyu walked away. He looked like he was trying not to cry, face scrunched up, all of his confidence and grins faded away, replaced with something that looked so… helpless, almost.

Yeonjun stares blankly at the notes on the board. They may as well be in a different language because he doesn’t understand any of it— and he should care more, but he just doesn’t. Not when his brain is packed with… other stuff. 

He doodles a little cherry in the corner of his page without thinking. Then stares at it.

Ugh. He was being weird. Too weird— what was wrong with him?!

He flips the page.

He’s not worried. Not really. It’s just… Beomgyu looked upset. That’s all. Anyone would notice that. Anyone would be mildly concerned like he was. 

Still.

—

Kai comes rushing in late during lunch, slidding down on the seat across from Yeonjun with a loud sigh, almost knocking Yeonjun’s lunch tray right off the table— and it would’ve gone tumbling to the ground if it weren’t for Yeonjun’s speedy reflexes. His hair is a rumpled mess and his tie isn’t done properly— he looked like he just woke up. Maybe he did.

“What happened to you? And—” Yeonjun blinks, cutting himself off.

Oh.

Spikes of lemon drift around the air— a little panicked, a little relieved, and a bit overwhelmed. It’s a little too strong, especially considering Yeonjun hadn’t really thought about Kai’s subgender before, Kai was just his new friend, bright and a total chatterbox. Yeonjun hadn’t really cared much about subgenders unless it was about himself. But it was obvious now, hard not to know— Kai was an alpha too. 

“Your— Your scent—” Yeonjun stammers out. It wasn’t strange for Kai to be an alpha, but… he hadn’t really given off the ‘alpha’ vibes that… okay, well being honest, the vibes from the alphas at Yeonjun’s old school… all of them who insisted they were what alphas were supposed to be like… stuck up alphas who bullied Yeonjun every chance they got. It was hard to let go of all that— it was hard to just let go of all the twisted ideas shoved into his brain for eight years, from middle to high school. Yeah sure, he could see it— Kai’s sporty look and big grins, but… also, not really. He really didn’t give any one subgender kind of feeling… just… a little, excited pup. 

Kai winces, and draws his scent back.

“Yeah, I know, sorry about that. I woke up really late today and forgot my scent patches. I literally just got here,” he explains. “Apparently, everyone thought I had already gone to school, so my older sister had a little panic attack when she found me still snoozing, underneath all my plushies. She also smacked me, so…” He grimaced. “Lovely morning alarm, am I right?” 

“I… I have a few extra patches.” Yeonjun offers. 

Kai brightens up. “Oh why thank you! Saves me a reprimanding from my teachers then!”

Yeonjun digs around his bag and pulls out a few scent patches, glad he remembered Soobin’s advice and grabbed a few from his parent’ bathroom (with a light heads up of course) before school. He would have to grab a pack later after school today, maybe at a convenience store… if he could find one. He had a phone after all. Not like he had the guts to actually go there though. 

Loud laughter carries over from the nearby table— and at the same table as yesterday, Taehyun is standing around and talking with Ni-ki, and the two of them burst into another fit of laughter when Heeseung jumps in and says something with a silly grin. Yeonjun’s eyes then fall on the dark-haired male seated at the table while his friends stand around laughing with each other. Beomgyu’s scrolling on his phone with an impassive expression— his grin still yet to return, at least, since the morning Yeonjun last saw him. 

Which reminds him again of his little not-lie and his gut twists up again. 

“…I fucked up,” he mutters. 

Kai blinks at him, in the middle of unwrapping his homemade sandwich. “Uh… Why? What did you do?”

“Taehyun and Beomgyu…” Yeonjun sighs. “They think I’m an omega.”

Kai stares at him with a puzzled look. 

“They just assumed, and I— I never corrected them.” Yeonjun elaborates. “I got a ride from Beomgyu last night, and in the car, Taehyun thought I was an omega… and then I never got a chance to correct him. And… it’s really making me guilty for lying… well sorta. I didn’t mean to, but— I— well…” 

The blond alpha hums. 

“Well, you can just correct them when you can. I don’t think it’s that big of a deal.” He shrugs. Then he pauses. 

“Wait— you got a ride home from Beomgyu?” Kai asks, a sly smile creeping up his face. 

Yeonjun groans. 

“It’s not like that! I just… didn’t have a ride and I was kinda panicking on what to do, and Beomgyu appeared, so I… I just… you know.”

“Mhm,” Kai grins. “I see.” 

“Kai.” 

“Alright, alright! I’ll stop teasing you! Sheesh.” 

Yeonjun lets his gaze wander, settling on Beomgyu and his gang of friends again. Every time— it’s always Beomgyu he’s looking for, whether it’s on purpose or not. Yeonjun’s gaze just… happens to gravitate towards the omega. He doesn’t have a crush— no, he really doesn’t— it’s just… kind of an interest. Beomgyu’s interesting to him. 

Heeseung suddenly leans down towards Beomgyu, a clear frown on his face as he gently nudges the latter. Beomgyu glances up from his phone and shoots Heeseung a smile that was probably meant to reassure his friend, but it only made Heeseung frown even more. 

Ni-ki and Taehyun’s attention turns to Beomgyu too, and then the three of them are all plopping down at the table, leaning towards Beomgyu in hushed voices— not that Yeonjun could hear their words in the first place. 

“Kai?” He says. “You know what their subgenders are?” He nods over at the table. 

The blond hums, swallowing his bite of food.

“Heeseung and Ni-ki are alphas, and like I said Beomgyu and Taehyun are omegas. Oh, and Soobin’s an alpha too, if you were wondering about that too.” He replies. “Why?”

“Nothing, just… My old school didn’t use scent patches, so we knew what everybody’s subgender was. I just… I’m not used to not knowing and it kinda bugged me.” Yeonjun answers truthfully. “Thank you— I just kinda wanted to know.” 

Kai studies him for a moment. 

“Well, yeah, of course. I mean… I don’t think you should be judging people just based on subgenders and like, the typical traits of one.” He says. 

“I’m not,” Yeonjun says quickly. “I was just curious.”

“Okay.” Kai says, turning back to his food. 

—

Yeonjun hadn’t meant to stare. Really. He hadn’t. 

He’d just been zoning out, that’s all— looking in that general direction, not specifically at Beomgyu, definitely not at the way he was still half-curled over his phone, his leg bouncing under the table like he was barely holding himself still, not touching his tray of food, nor the one Taehyun gently nudged towards him. Not at the way Taehyun leaned in and said something that made Beomgyu nod faintly without ever looking up.

But when Yeonjun blinks, his eyes flicking away guiltily, they land on Taehyun.

And Taehyun is looking right at him.

Yeonjun freezes.

Taehyun doesn’t smile. Doesn’t wave either.

He just… tilts his head a little, unreadable, and then says something to Ni-ki— too far to catch— before straightening up and walking toward him, towards Yeonjun.

Yeonjun stiffens as Taehyun slides into the empty seat beside him at the lunch table, setting down his drink like he belonged there. A second later, Ni-ki follows, flopping down across from them and resting his chin in his hand, gaze flicking between the two like he was watching a drama unfold. 

Kai looks between them, puzzled, halfway through chewing.

“So…” Taehyun starts, tone light, but his eyes sharp as they meet Yeonjun’s. “You and Gyu. What’s the deal?”

Yeonjun stares at him. “What— what do you mean?”

Taehyun shrugs like it’s nothing.

“You keep looking at him. Like, a lot.”

Yeonjun immediately flushes. “I wasn’t— I wasn’t looking at him like that!”

Ni-ki raises an eyebrow. “Like what?” He tilts his head. 

“I wasn’t looking at him at all, actually!” Yeonjun blurts, which— okay, was absolutely the worst defense because now he just sounds guilty and panicked. And he was kinda lying too— well not really, because he hadn’t meant to stare, or even look at Beomgyu. 

“…Right,” Taehyun says slowly. “So you weren’t looking at him… or you weren’t looking at him like that?”

Yeonjun opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again.

“There’s nothing going on. Seriously.”

Ni-ki hums, clearly amused now. “Oh yeah? You nothing going on, huh?”

Yeonjun nods nervously.

“You’re an omega, right?” Taehyun asks, squinting his eyes. 

This was the chance for him to fix the error, for him to tell Taehyun he was actually an alpha.

“Yeah,” his mouth says instead.

Fuck.

Taehyun hums.

“Alright then. You’re not from around here, right?” He then asks, and it doesn’t sound entirely casual anymore. “What school were you at before?” It sounds a bit like an interrogation. 

Yeonjun shifts in his seat, uncomfortable.

“Just a small public school… a few towns over. I transferred yesterday. Beomgyu, uhm, he tried to help me around and I…” ended up ditching him. “…I kinda had to leave, but he tried to help! So I’m very grateful towards him, that’s all.” 

Taehyun tilts his head again, studying Yeonjun for a long, unreadable moment. Then, finally, he says, “Gyu’s not usually nice to people he doesn’t like. I mean, he invited you to our hangout yesterday. He doesn’t do that with people he doesn’t know— so you’re a first.”

Yeonjun blinks. “Oh.”

“Just saying,” Taehyun murmurs, and his voice is gentler now—still cool, but less guarded. “He’s not great at talking when he’s upset. You probably noticed that already.”

Yeonjun nods slowly. “Yeah.”

There’s a moment of silence between them. Even Kai’s stopped chewing, watching with wide eyes, and his sandwich is a bit forgotten in his hands. 

Then Ni-ki finally pipes up: “So you do like him?”

“I—!” Yeonjun practically chokes. “No! I just— he looked upset this morning and I just… noticed. That’s all.”

Taehyun lifts his soda can to his lips. “Noticed, huh?”

Yeonjun stares down at his tray, cheeks burning. “I’m not weird,” he mutters.

“No one said you were,” Taehyun replies. “Just keep your heart in check, newbie.”

Yeonjun blinks, eyes darting up. “Why?”

Taehyun shrugs. “Beomgyu’s… complicated. And he’s been through a lot.” He nudges the drink can in a slow circle with one finger. “Just don’t get close unless you mean it.”

Yeonjun doesn’t respond.

Ni-ki sighs. 

“Well, Taehyun— he’s not a threat, so let’s go now.” He starts standing up, glancing at Taehyun.

The omega sighs. 

“Fine,” he mutters under his breath. Then, with a glance back at Yeonjun, he adds, “Hey. I’m Beomgyu’s number one protector— so don’t mess with him. I don’t let omegas off the hook either, just so we’re clear. Though,” he casts a look at Ni-ki, “it’s usually the alphas who cause trouble— no offense, Ni-ki, I know you’re not like those one-minded bastards.”

“None taken,” Ni-ki shrugs casually. “I agree. Some alphas are just disgusting.” 

“Well,” Taehyun shoots a smile towards Ni-ki, one that seems very different from the look he directed at Yeonjun. “Well. I’m lucky the two actually decent ones ended up as my best friends then.”

The white-blond boy chuckles, using the height difference over Taehyun to playfully ruffle the omega’s hair, before running away as Taehyun tries to throw a punch at him for messing up his hair.

Chapter Text

Yeonjun— miraculously— manages to search up a convenience store near school and, even more miraculously, actually goes. He never would’ve, not normally. But the thought of getting in trouble at his new school for not wearing scent patches was enough to push him past his comfort zone. That, and he really didn’t want to bug his parents about it. His dad hadn’t even responded to Yeonjun’s texts— he was always gone before Yeonjun woke up and only came home after Yeonjun had already fallen asleep.

So then, he’d thought about asking Kai to come with him— especially after they exchanged numbers during lunch— but a quick text revealed Kai had a dentist appointment and had to rush off right after school.

So, here he was. Alone.

The convenience store is small, squeezed between a barber shop and a beauty parlor, with dark green tiles and fogged-up glass windows. A bell chimes when he steps inside, and Yeonjun bows politely to the elderly man at the counter.

He winds his way through the aisles, scanning the shelves. One row is full of canned vegetables and beans— no luck. He heads to the next, which looks more promising with its shelves of toiletries and essentials. This might be it.

Then, raised voices catch his ear.

Yeonjun pauses, frowning. Some kind of argument? He hesitates, debating whether to just mind his business. It’s probably nothing. He really shouldn’t be meddling in other people’s lives and—

“—ay Beomgyu, so just go out with me, yeah?!”

Yeonjun goes still.

That voice. It’s the same one from earlier— that alpha in the soccer jersey. The one who’d thrown out disgusting advances towards Beomgyu. 

Without thinking, Yeonjun bolts toward the sound, but skids to a stop behind the aisle shelves. Yeah no, he isn’t that brave to just go rushing into possible danger— yes he’s a coward. He carefully peers around the corner.

Beomgyu is there— back pressed against a shelf of chips and gummy bears, his guitar case slung over one shoulder. And in front of him, looming far too close, is the same alpha from this morning. Jaeseok— still in his school uniform, still looking too smug, too entitled.

Yeonjun’s heart kicks up in his chest.

His breath catches in his throat.

“I mean, come on, Beomgyu,” Jaeseok is saying, voice low and slick with confidence that makes Yeonjun’s stomach churn. “You’re like… the perfect omega. Pretty face, pretty body— don’t act like you don’t know it. Every alpha in school has thought it at least once.”

Beomgyu doesn’t respond, face twisting up. 

Jaeseok laughs, stepping closer, his arm brushing the chip bags as he leans in.

“You’re just playing hard to get, right? That’s how omegas like you act. All innocent and cold until someone strong enough handles you—”

Yeonjun fists the fabric of his pants. His heart hammers violently against his ribs, and every nerve in his body screams go. Move. Do something. Say something. Stop him.

But his feet stay rooted.

His brain flashes with doubts— What if it backfires? What if Beomgyu doesn’t want you to get involved? What if it makes things worse? What if he hates you for it? You’re just the weird new kid— what are you even supposed to say?

Jaeseok’s hand darts out and grabs Beomgyu’s wrist.

Yeonjun’s breath stutters. He can see it now— Beomgyu jerking, wincing, trying to pull back, but Jaeseok is stronger and tightens his grip.

“Don’t touch me.” Beomgyu’s voice is quiet, strained— and it quivers.

“Come on,” Jaeseok says, his voice dropping into something more menacing, his grip tightening. “Stop pretending like you’re too good for anyone. You think you're better than the rest of us just because your little gang coddles you all the time?”

Angrily, he shoves Beomgyu backwards. Beomgyu’s elbow slams back into the shelf behind him and he stumbles. Pain flashes across his face, and his hand flies to his shoulder like he’s trying to hold it still. He nearly drops his guitar case in the process.

Yeonjun lurches forward, every instinct screaming, but—

A loud gasp rings out before he could move.

Three foil packets of chocolate bars hit the floor, along with several plastic bottles of soda.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Heeseung’s voice thunders across the store like a gunshot.

Taehyun and Ni-ki are standing right behind him, all three of them frozen for a split second. Then they're moving. What Yeonjun failed to do. 

Heeseung is the first to step up, fury radiating off him in waves.

“Back away from him. Now.” He snarls. 

Jaeseok sneers. “Or what, Lee? You gonna hit me or what?” 

“Now.” Taehyun cuts in, his voice low and icy, and somehow even more terrifying than Heeseung’s. Yeah, omegas are just as scary. 

Ni-ki doesn’t say anything— just walks forward, expression stone-cold, until Jaeseok has to step back. Ni-ki’s height lets him tower over the other alpha, and Jaeseok suddenly looks afraid for once. His hands are up now, face drawn tight with fake innocence.

“I wasn’t doing anything. You guys are overreacting.”

Taehyun’s eyes narrow.

“Bullshit. Touch him again and we’ll make sure you regret it.” He hisses out. 

Jaeseok opens his mouth like he wants to argue— then thinks better of it. With a scoff and a bitter glare, he shoves past the three of them and storms out of the store.

The bell jingles as the door swings shut behind him.

Beomgyu sags instantly. He leans heavily against the shelf, wincing as his fingers curl around his arm. He’s hurt— he’s hurt because Yeonjun hadn’t moved faster, or at all for the matter. 

“Gyu!” Heeseung rushes forward, catching his arm before he can fall. “Shit— are you okay?!”

“I’m fine,” Beomgyu mutters, but his voice is strained, and the tremble in his hands gives him away. “I’m really o…” He trails off. 

Taehyun and Ni-ki are instantly at his side too, all of them checking him over, fussing with a carefulness born out of genuine concern. Heeseung picks up Beomgyu from the ground and holds him against his chest and Beomgyu leans on him, letting out a shaky sigh. 

Taehyun gently takes his injured arm and begins to examine it carefully, and Ni-ki gathers everything into a basket he pulled out of thin air, before plucking more gummies from the shelves, gently asking Beomgyu which ones he’d like more— this one, or this one? 

“What even happened?” Heeseung is asking softly. “We leave for one second— and that asshole comes back. Where’d he even come from?!”

“Wait. Comes back?” Taehyun repeats. 

Heeseung nods. 

“Yeah, this morning, he bugged Beomgyu about going out with him and wouldn’t leave even after Beomgyu said no. So I scared him off— at least, I thought I did. But, I guess not for good…” He sighs. 

Ni-ki lets out a snarl-like noise. 

“Fucker. I’m going to see if he really left.” He shoots up to his feet and storms off, basket clattering on the ground as he leaves it behind. 

“Beomgyu, where’d he come from?” Taehyun asks softly. “I thought it was only us four in here.” 

Beomgyu nods. 

“I… I thought so too. But then— I don’t know— he suddenly appeared behind me, smelling all— all horny— and asked where you guys were. When I said you guys went to get chocolate bars, he started asking me out again and— and saying that— that I had the perfect body for it and…” His voice cracks, and Heeseung hugs him tighter.

“I am killing that asshole—” Taehyun grits his teeth, but Heeseung tugs him back down. 

“Don’t.” He warns. 

Taehyun huffs. 

“He’s gone,” Ni-ki says, returning. “But I’m gonna talk to my dad and tell him about it.”

“Does the city police deal with school related stuff like this?” Heeseung wonders. “Wait, no, I guess technically this is outside of school… so like, sexual harrassment? Yeah, definitely get Chief Nishimura involved. I trust he’ll get something done about this.” He nods.  

“Shit—wait, I’m not hurting you, am I?” Heeseung says, adjusting how he’s holding Beomgyu.

The omega shakes his head. “No— just, my shoulder’s kinda— yeah— ow, okay— yeah, this is fine.”

Heeseung pats Beomgyu’s head and Ni-ki squats down to eye-level.

“Beomgyu hyung, if that asshole comes back— we’re definitely going straight to my dad, school or not.” He says quietly.

Beomgyu laughs, but he looks a little pained.

“Sure. Such a responsible baby duck,” he says, wincing as he shifts his arm in the process. 

Yeonjun watches all this from behind the shelf, stomach twisted into knots.

Coward.

That’s all his brain keeps repeating.

Coward.

Coward.

Fool.

Coward.

He’d seen it happen. He could’ve stepped in first. He should have. But he didn’t. He hesitated.

And now Beomgyu was hurt. He was hurt. All because of Yeonjun. 

Yeonjun grips the edge of the shelf until his knuckles go white, face burning— not just with guilt, but with shame. He lets himself stare one more moment as Beomgyu leans into Heeseung’s side, still cradling his arm, while Taehyun and Ni-ki pick up the dropped chocolate and gently ask if he can walk.

Yeonjun turns away.

He hurries to grab the first scent patch pack, checks out, and nearly runs out of the store. 

And hates himself the entire walk back home.

—

When he gets home, he curls up under the covers like the sad mess he is and screams at himself. How could he just leave Beomgyu like that?! And even after Jaeseok left, how could he just stand there and watch while the others comforted him?! How could he just leave?!

Yeonjun hits his head, before letting his fingers curl around hsi hair and tug. Hard. 

He deserves it a little— why was he so stupid? Why was he such a coward? Why did he hesitate so much? How could he call himself an alpha if he couldn’t protect an omega in distress? And… how could he leave a Beomgyu with teary eyes, a Beomgyu that was so unlike the one he’d seen that first day with big grins and laughter? How could he just leave?! 

A rumble from outside has him glancing out the window— down the street, in front of Beomgyu’s house, an unfamiliar red car pulls up to the driveway. Then, Heeseung gets out of the driver side, with Taehyun and Ni-ki tumbling out from the back, Beomgyu in between them. The four of them make their way up the driveway to the front door, and one of them must ring the doorbell because it swings open, with someone Yeonjun thinks is Soobin. 

The four of them rush inside, and the door closes again. A few moments later, three figures come back out. One of them— Taehyun, it looked like— walks over to the house next door, a dark red bricked one with brown roof tiles, a little smaller than Beomgyu’s. Ni-ki and Heeseung get into the red car again, and the car drives off. 

Yeonjun has no idea why he’s standing at his window, watching like a creep— he doesn’t even know why— oh wait, no, he does, he’s concerned about Beomgyu, despite having ran away with his tail between his legs in shame. He did nothing, and all he could was stand and watch others do what he should’ve done— should be doing for Beomgyu.

Yeonjun’s fingers tighten around his shirt hem as the red car disappears down the road.

He doesn’t move from the window, barely even breathes, as his eyes remain fixed on the now-quiet street. The only trace left of the earlier chaos is the faint outline of Beomgyu’s front door, closed once more. He imagines what it must be like inside— maybe Soobin’s helping him ice his shoulder. Maybe he’s being coaxed into eating gummies with a blanket over his legs. Maybe Taehyun is lecturing him gently through texts. Maybe Heeseung and Ni-ki are already plotting their next move, of checking camera footage or drafting texts to the police chief, as they drive off. 

Yeonjun swallows hard.

He should’ve been there. He was there. Just not enough.

His legs finally move, sluggish as he stumbles back toward his bed. He collapses into it face-first, his face buried in the pillow. It smells like detergent and his own shampoo— bland, ordinary, useless.

He rolls over, arm flung across his eyes. And for a long, long time, he just lies there, letting the shame sink deeper into his bones. The word still echoes over and over inside his skull.

Coward.

And yet.

Underneath the self-loathing, another emotion starts to curl up in his chest. Something bitter. Something fierce. Anger. Not just at himself, but at Jaeseok. At every smug, disgusting thing he’d said. At the fact that Beomgyu had to go through that— in public, cornered and alone, forced to pretend he wasn’t scared, like he wasn’t in pain, like he was fine, again.

Yeonjun clenches his fists. He’s felt this kind of anger before, he thinks— years ago, when he watched someone in his old school get cornered by seniors and couldn’t do a damn thing because he was a scrawny, scared little alpha boy. He thought he’d grown past that.

Apparently not.

Chapter Text

🧸

Beomgyu curls up in the back of Heeseung’s car, trying not to cry— and really, he shouldn’t be so emotional. It’s what all omegas dealt with from time to time, getting hit on alphas who had such big egos that they couldn’t handle rejection. He shouldn’t be crying over something so tiny. His eyes stung though, even though his brain told them not to.

Heeseung drives— though he keeps glancing at him from the rearview mirror in worry. Ni-ki and Taehyun had taken their positions in the back, sandwiching Beomgyu in between them gently, like his personal barriers against the whole entire world. Taehyun lets out soothing pheromones for him, and Ni-ki does the same— combined, the vanilla from Taehyun and the rose from Ni-ki make the car smell… well like home, like the comfort of his friends, practically family. 

“Wait, are you crying?” 

Beomgyu startles at Ni-ki’s voice, and— his vision’s a bit blurry, so he blinks— the blond boy is looking at him with widened eyes. Then… Gentle fingers start brushing over his eyes, wiping away his tears with their thumbs. Beomgyu leans into the touch, trying to hold back the tears he didn’t even realize he was letting out. 

“Hyung, if you cry, I cry,” Ni-ki says gently, wiping another tear from Beomgyu’s eyelashes and then leans back again, drawing his hands back upon seeing the tears were all wiped off.  

“Like you ever do,” Beomgyu says with a watery voice. “…I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying like this.” He really shouldn’t be crying like this— it’s pathetic. Why was he crying?

“Stop that,” Taehyun says from his other side. “You have every right to after what that asshole did to you.” 

“It’s embarrassing though,” Beomgyu whines, rubbing at his eyes. The tears keep coming. He wants them to stop— oh, and now his breath is hitching along with his tears. 

“Oh shush, we’ve known you since we were babies— it’s not embarrassing!” Ni-ki reassures him. “We see Heeseungie hyung cry all the time over his burnt toast and assignments every day, and we’re not at all fazed, are we?” 

“Hey!” Heeseung protests from the front. “I don’t cry every day!”

“Yes you do!”

“Do not!” 

Beomgyu chuckles, albeit sounding watery, and leans back, letting the quiet bickering fill the car. Taehyun gently guides Beomgyu’s head over to his shoulder and Beomgyu leans on the other omega, closing his eyes for a moment. Ni-ki and Heeseung continue arguing over the fact that Heeseung cried over almost everything in his life, with a teasing Ni-ki and a mock-offended Heeseung. Beomgyu lets the familiar sound of his friends’ voices fill the air and lets out a shaky sigh. 

When he opens his eyes again, they’re in the driveway of his house. 

Heeseung gets out first, and then Ni-ki gets out, tugging Beomgyu along with him, with Taehyun right behind, clutching Beomgyu’s hand in silent comfort. The four of them walk over to the front door and Heeseung rings the doorbell. A couple seconds later, it swings open with a Soobin clad in fuzzy pajama bottoms and a plain white t-shirt, holding a book in one hand, bookmarked with his thumb in between the pages. 

“Oh, you’re all over today?” He sounds confused. 

“Hey Soobin hyung,” Heeseung says quickly. “Beomgyu’s hurt— we’ll explain after we get inside first.” 

Soobin’s brows shoot up, but he steps aside, letting them enter. Ni-ki and Taehyun help Beomgyu over to a nearby stool for him to sit down, and Soobin glances at him with worried eyes, before turning back to Heeseung. 

“What’s going on?” he asks. 

Heeseung sighs.

“An asshole— he tried to ask Beomgyu out and wouldn’t leave even after he said no— and I thought I scared him off, but he returned and harrassed Beomgyu at the convenience store just now. And he hurt Beomgyu’s arm.” Heeseung explains. “We got him home— I thought it would be best.” 

Soobin’s eyes are narrowed.

“Does this alpha go to our school?”

Taehyun nods. 

“Jaeseok. Gwon Jaeseok— he’s in my Economics class.” He responds. 

“And Beomgyu’s french class too,” Heeseung pipes up, glancing at Beomgyu for confirmation, to which he nods. “Yeah, his french class.” 

Soobin’s fuming. 

“Well— let’s see what messing with the student body president’s brother will do to you.” He mutters. 

“I’m telling my dad about it too,” Ni-ki says. “It’s technically verbal sexual harrassment— and it happened outside of school, so he should be able to do something about it. I can stop by the station right now.” 

Soobin nods. 

“Good. Thank you, Ni-ki. Gwon Jaeseok, you said…? I’ll look into his file at school. Maybe add it onto his official record,” he grins. “You mess with Beomgyu, you mess with the whole gang.” 

Heeseung nods. “Fuck yeah.” He laughs. 

“Hey Beomgyu?” He then turns to said mentioned boy. “We’ll get going now— unless you want us to stay a little longer?” 

Beomgyu shakes his head. 

“You… You guys should go. I’ve wasted too much of your time. Thank you for coming with me to the store— and for helping me.” Beomgyu mumbles. 

It’s true— all he wanted was for his friends to come along with him to the convenience store for some snacks, even though Ni-ki and Heeseung had a lot of homework to catch up on after being in strict practice for the past few weeks. And Taehyun was probably busy too. 

“Stop that, would you?” Taehyun rolls his eyes. “As your platonic husband, I am telling you right now you didn’t waste anyone’s time, okay? And if you want us to stay, just ask.”

Beomgyu smiles sadly. 

“…Thanks. But it’s fine. I’m home now, and I’m fine. Seriously guys. Please leave,” he tries to sound playful and light, tries to joke around— but it comes out a bit too watery and choked out. His friends stare at him and he avoids their eyes. 

“Yeah. See you tomorrow then,” Heeseung says softly. “Text us if you need something.” 

Beomgyu nods.

“If that asshole comes back— we’ll punch him or something.” Taehyun promises. “Ni-ki’s dad will bail us out of jail if we get charged.” 

Ni-ki gives Taehyun a long look which the latter pointedly avoids. Heeseung rolls his eyes, throwing an arm around Taehyun’s shoulder. 

“No— we are not doing anything that’s gonna get us in jail,” he says. “Let’s be mature seventeen year olds— well, sixteen, in our maknae’s case,” he ruffles Ni-ki’s hair and the blond groans in fake annoyance. 

Then Taehyun, Ni-ki, and Heeseung leave, making Beomgyu promise he’d text the group chat soon before they do. Then they’re really gone, the door clicking shut behind them, and Beomgyu’s left sitting on the stool in the foyer with Soobin frowning at him. 

“…How about a hot shower, Gyu? And then a nice, long nap— and I’ll even reheat a slice of cherry pie— just this once, alright, because I’m feeling bad for you.” Soobin says.

“Such a caring older brother,” Beomgyu says softly, trying to smile. Soobin looks even more worried at that. He crosses his arms, book under one arm as he comes over to Beomgyu. His apple scent turns a little sour. 

“C’mon, Beomgyu. Once Dad comes home, we can make dinner— anything you’re craving?” he asks. 

Beomgyu shakes his head. 

“No… just… Yeah, I’m gonna go take a shower.” He mumbles.

“After you do, I’ll swing by your room with an ice pack for your arm. How bad does it hurt?” Soobin questions. “Do we need to go to the doctor?” 

Beomgyu shakes his head. “No, it’s just a little bruise. It doesn’t hurt as bad as before.” 

Soobin doesn’t look convinced, but shooes Beomgyu off. He clambers up the stairs slowly, and throws off his clothes, hating how Jaeseok’s rotten charcoal scent stuck onto his uniform. His movements feel all too sluggish as he steps into the shower— and he lets the warm water cascade down, over his face, over everything, and he lets his bones soak in the warmth. 

🐹

Heeseung drove, glancing up at the sky that was starting to turn grey. Maybe it was going to rain. It was raining a lot these days. Ni-ki sat in the passenger seat next to him, glancing down at his phone and ocassionally tapping on it. The radio hummed with the volume turned down really low, but he could tell it was a song. He usually didn’t like complete silences like this, preferring to turn on the radio up loud as background noise, but Ni-ki looked thoughtful— and he didn’t want to break the younger’s concentration. 

After they’d dropped off Beomgyu at his house, they were driving— and honestly, Heeseung didn’t really have a destination in mind, and just continued stepping on the pedal. 

“Want me to drop you off at the station right now or your house?” Heeseung asks, figuring he could use a destination right about now, after aimlessly going around the neighborhood. 

“Yeah, thanks.” Ni-ki murmurs, glancing up from his phone. “…Hyung.”

“Hm?” 

“What do you think about that Yeonjun guy?” Ni-ki suddenly asked.

Heeseung frowns. 

“That shy guy we met a few days ago, when Beomgyu introduced him to us?”. 

“Yeah. That guy.” Ni-ki nods. 

Heeseung thinks back to the black haired guy, hovering behind Beomgyu that day he first met him— avoiding everyone’s eyes and fiddling with his hands as he glanced at the back of Beomgyu’s head while he chatted with Heeseung and Ni-ki. 

“…I can’t tell if he’s really just shy, or he’s pretending,” Heeseung finally responds. “Like… he doesn’t seem like the type to be shy, but he is? I know that makes no sense— but it’s just… I don’t know if he’s interested in Beomgyu in the way he wants to be friends, or if he has bad intentions.”

Ni-ki hums. 

“Taehyun hyung caught him staring at Beomgyu during lunch today. He said he and Beomgyu hyung and Yeonjun had a little hang out at Beomgyu hyung’s yesterday, but he wasn’t sure what Yeonjun’s whole deal or if he had any bad intentions. So me and Taehyun hyung went over (“So that’s where you guys disappeared to!”) — I think Yeonjun’s an omega— and he… well, he seemed interested in Beomgyu hyung. I can’t tell if he has bad or good intentions either.” He sighs. 

“Well, we can always intervene if things go south. For now— Beomgyu can take care of himself. You know he hates when he coddle him,” Heeseung jokes. 

“Yeah. Yeonjun seems like a decent guy. And you know… he’s not an alpha.” Ni-ki exhales. “I know there are good alphas like us, but there are also a lot of bad ones— like Jaeseok.” 

“Omegas can be mean too, you know. Hey— you remember that girl from middle school?” Heeseung glances at the blond, before settling his eyes back on the road again. 

Ni-ki lets out a choked laugh. 

“Ugh, Jeong Mina? Yeah— I remember. She tried to screw Beomgyu hyung over because she was jealous he was prettier than her and all the alphas went to him, not her— as if she deserved their attention in the first place.” He shakes his head. “Bullied him relentlessly— she even tried flirting with me to make him jealous— but of course, it was just funny to us. She was the worst.” 

“Ew. She didn’t even have any flirting skills whatsoever. You're lucky you're kinda cute, or I wouldn't even look at you.” He imitated. “Like, uh, excuse me? She called that flirting?”

“Don’t remind me, hyung,” Ni-ki groans. “Anyways… I’m sure Yeonjun’s a decent guy. For now, I think our main problem is Gwon Jaeseok.” 

Heeseung rolls his eyes.

“It seems every single year there’s at least one alpha bothering Gyu.” They turn the corner and the police station stands proudly on the street. “Okay, we’re here.” He announces. 

Ni-ki smiles. “Thanks for the ride. See you later!” he calls, hopping out and jogging over to the station. He waves and then he disappears into the building. 

Heeseung starts the engine and starts his drive back home. 

Chapter Text

Yeonjun sits in class, but he doesn’t hear a single word the teacher says (which is bad, considering it’s only his third day here— he really should be focusing— he might potentially fail this entire school year at this rate).

The worksheet in front of him is half-filled, the rest blank, his handwriting trailing off mid-sentence like his brain forgot how to function. He keeps tapping his pencil against the desk, then stopping when it gets too loud. Then starting again. His leg’s bouncing under the table and he knows it's annoying but he can’t stop. No one seems to notice anyway. So he doesn’t stop. 

The thought— the image of Beomgyu grimacing as Jaeseok advanced onto him— yesterday—

It gnaws at him constantly.

He should’ve done something.

He can still see it— Beomgyu's wide eyes, the way he stiffened, the way that guy— Jaeseok— got too close, the way Yeonjun just… froze. Like a coward. Like the pathetic, scared thing he always promised himself he wouldn't be. But… he had been in the end. 

And now Beomgyu’s hurt.

He gulps. His throat feels dry.

What kind of alpha was he? A pathetic coward— yeah, that’s it. 

The teacher calls on someone and the class laughs, but Yeonjun just stares at his paper, throat tight. He should’ve said something yesterday. He should’ve stood between them. Should’ve grabbed Beomgyu’s arm, or called for help, or done literally anything but back away like some helpless little thing— like he wasn’t an alpha. (What did that even mean, anymore, being an alpha?) 

He curls his fingers into fists. His nails dig into his palm, and for once, he doesn’t care if they leave marks. He’s just so angry— at himself, at the world, at Jaeseok, everything. 

He should find Beomgyu. Apologize or something. But… if Beomgyu found out Yeonjun had been there but hadn’t done anything, what would he think of Yeonjun? He’d probably be disgusted. And besides— the right words won’t come to mind. Everything he tries to say (in his fake scenario, inside his head) sounds fake, or selfish, or like he’s trying to make it about him when Beomgyu was the one who got hurt. So he ends up not having anything to say if he went to Beomgyu and said sorry. 

He really can’t believe himself. 

—

“Did you know there’s a big school festival next week?” Kai asks, munching on a baby carrot during lunch. His homework is sprawled across the table in front of him, but he makes no attempt at doing anything with it.

Yeonjun hums. “No.” He responds. 

“It’s the Spring Carnival— every club sets up booths, games, food stalls, that kind of thing. No classes the whole day.” Kai grins. “The Joker Cards are gonna play. You going?”

Yeonjun shrugs. 

“I don’t know… I don’t really do… school events, you know?” He says in response.

“Loser,” Kai teases. “I’ll be there too— let’s go together, okay? Don’t ditch me!” 

Yeonjun sighs. 

“Kai…”

“Uh-uh, no Kai-ing me. You’re going.” The blond alpha grins. 

A sudden ripple of loud screams and whispers has Yeonjun glancing over at the commotion.

Whoa. 

Heeseung’s hair is bright red, kinda like a tomato in the middle of the cafeteria, and Yeonjun finds himself following all the other students and gawking at the basketball player. What happened to him? Yeonjun saw him yesterday after school— his hair was brown when he drove off from Beomgyu’s house. 

“—got bored last night,” Heeseung is saying to the incredulous Taehyun. “I wanted to dye my hair since last year, and I had the dye, so I just kinda spontaneously did it.” 

“Tomato hyung,” Yeonjun hears Ni-ki tease. “It’s so bright— what dye even is it?” 

Heeseung shrugs, and says something that Yeonjun can’t hear what. Then Ni-ki elbows Heeseung who chuckles and says something. The white-blond alpha scrunches his brow, tugging at a lock of his hair, and then Heeseung’s leaning into him again and saying something that has Ni-ki yelling a loud, “Fuck no!”, with Heeseung collapsing into a fit of laughter and Taehyun shaking his head exasperatedly. 

“Heeseung dyed his hair?” Kai raised an eyebrow, glancing over too. “That’s sudden. Doesn’t he have a game tonight?” 

“He does?” Yeonjun asks, surprised. 

Kai nods. 

“Against Foxwood High, from the town next door. I hear those players are real mean— but good at basketball, but I don’t know if it’s just ‘cause they cheat.” He says. “Once, one of the Foxwood players broke a White Rose player’s wrist while playing. Brutal.” He blows out a breath. 

Yeonjun glances over at the Joker Cards members at their table— and then is surprised to see Beomgyu is missing. He frowns.

Where was he? Why didn’t he show up for lunch? Did something happen? Did he come to school at all today? Was it because of what happened yesterday? 

His heart clenches.

Maybe it was his fault Beomgyu wasn’t here— for not stopping up sooner. For not stopping Jaeseok before Beomgyu got hurt. 

Why didn’t I do anything— 

He closed his eyes.

Enough of feeling angry for himself and just muttering about by himself. He should do something. He should find out where Beomgyu was— and why he was skipping out on lunch. Even if he really didn’t feel like talking with other people much; Kai was easy, others… not so much. 

And then… without his permission, his feet brought him over to the table where Taehyun, Ni-ki, and Heeseung sat at. They glanced up at him mid-conversation and Taehyun raised an eyebrow at him, setting down his carton of milk.

“Yeon..jun?” He blinks. “Why are you here?” 

Yeonjun froze. 

“Ah— I—” 

Now that he was actually over here… he was not ready to converse with Beomgyu’s friends. He’d seen how protective they could be— especially for Beomgyu— so he was a bit scared of them, admittedly. They meant business when it came to their friend. 

“Uh… I just… Is Beomgyu out sick today?” he asks out, willing his voice not to shake because he didn’t want them to think he was a loser anymore than they already thought. 

Taehyun shoots him a narrowed glance, while Heeseung just blinks at him. Yeonjun sweats, face growing hot as they all just stare at him and he’s left standing at their table like an idiot. He considers just leaving if they don’t answer in the next few seconds. 

“…Yeah, he took the day off.” Ni-ki finally answers, halting Yeonjun as he tries to shuffle away, squinting at Yeonjun as if wondering why he wanted to know about Beomgyu. 

“Why are you so interested about Beomgyu?” Taehyun wrinkles his nose. 

“I just…” Yeonjun swallows. Truthfully— he didn’t know. Why was he so interested about Beomgyu? The dark haired boy with the huge grin that first day— swinging his guitar around and bickering with Soobin with that cheeky smile, offering to help Yeonjun and telling him that he was funny— funny— and… those dark brown eyes that shone when he grinned. 

“I just… want to be friends with him. He’s cool.” He finally mumbles.

“Aw!” 

Yeonjun whirls around and finds Beomgyu standing behind him with a smile that makes his eyes crinkle up at the corners. He’s wearing a black hoodie, with a jagged red heart print on the center, underneath his school blazer and his hair is tousled like he just came after running around in the wind. 

“Beomgyu?!” Heeseung says. He and Ni-ki bolt to their feet, and Taehyun’s eyes are widened from where he’s still perched on the seat. Apparently, they didn’t expect Beomgyu to be here either. 

Beomgyu nods over at them, his smile lighting up the room around them. 

“Hi guys! Bet you all thought I was skipping out on today, right?” He laughs.

Ni-ki nods. “Yeah. You… I mean, that’s what you said this morning in the group chat… and you weren’t in music theory earlier.”

Beomgyu nods. “Okay well, I was gonna skip the entire day, but then I got bored sitting around— and I got a ride to school. I am so glad I got here during lunch period ‘cause it would’ve been so sad if I got here and I didn’t even steal Tae’s fries today.” 

With that, he plucks a fry from Taehyun’s tray. Taehyun doesn’t even pretend to be annoyed this time, too shocked at the fact that Beomgyu was here unexpectedly.

Beomgyu turns to Yeonjun again, who stiffens with widening eyes as Beomgyu looks right into his eyes and his grin grows bigger. 

“So, you wanted to be friends with me, is that it?” He asked, amusement laced into his voice. God— why was he cute like this, looking at Yeonjun with sparkling eyes and saying that?

Yeonjun nods, unable to get his tongue moving again. 

“I… yeah. I did. I do— I— yeah.” 

Beomgyu tilts his head. 

“Well new guy… if you wanna be friends, we can be friends! Us omegas against the world, am I right?” He winks, bumping Yeonjun’s shoulder with his own. Guilt floods Yeonjun, but luckily, Beomgyu gets distracted by his friends to notice the flinch Yeonjun made. 

“Beomgyu, are you really okay? After… After yesterday?” Heeseung frowns. 

Something crosses over Beomgyu’s eyes, the shine going out, but it disappears just as quickly as it came and his eyes grow sparkling again. Like the sun coming out behind the cloud after a rainy day all day. 

“Ey~ Choi Beomgyu doesn’t get down so easily!” He says, puffing his chest out. “If I let jerks like Jaeseok get me all sad, life would be too grey all the time! And you know my life needs to be bright yellow!”

Yeonjun’s honestly a little awed at Beomgyu. He had been harrassed by Jaeseok just yesterday, he had been hurt— and now it was like nothing had ever happened. Beomgyu smiled even brighter than that first day Yeonjun met him, his eyes shone and… a white-yellow halo seemed to surround him. He was just… so happy. So bright. So cheerful. 

“Holy shit— Heeseung, what happened to your hair?!” Beomgyu suddenly gasps. 

“You notice now?” Heeseung gapes at him. 

“I was distracted!” The former whines. 

Beomgyu then turns to Yeonjun.  

“I’m sorry, I keep talking to them in the middle of our conversations. That was why you ran off the other day, right? I was being so rude.” He chuckles awkwardly. 

Yeonjun’s eyes widened, shaking his hands in front of him in denial. 

“What?! No, no, of course not! No, I just—” got embarrassed and got upset because Heeseung was just lightly teasing me and was too sensitive. “—thought you might want to talk to your friends, and I was in the way, so that’s why I left. It wasn’t your fault— by any means! Really!” He insisted.

(Add another person to his list of people words-just-tumble-out-of-to.)

Beomgyu looks relieved. 

“Oh. Oh, okay.” He says. “And you weren’t— I shouldn’t have been talking with them for so long either, so I’m still sorry. I was supposed to help you to the office— I promised, and then I didn’t.” 

“It’s okay. I found it in the end, that’s what matters.” Yeonjun smiles back.

“To make it up with you,” Beomgyu starts, and slung an arm around Yeonjun to which he stiffens at how close the omega has gotten to him, “I’ll buy you ice cream after school. We can hang out— if you’re not busy of course. You seem like the studious type. You know, like the kind of guy who finishes all his homework and assignments two weeks ahead of the due date?” 

Yeonjun sputters. 

“I— no— I mean, not always—”

Beomgyu giggles. 

“Not always? So you do, sometimes?” 

Yeonjun hesitates.

“…Maybe?” 

Beomgyu giggles again. 

“Oof, I’m gonna have to learn from you! I procrasinate a lot— and then I somehow end up losing my papers so I have to claim they got eaten by the dog I do not have. I fear the only thing I have to keep them from failing me is my genius personality!” He tilts his head, forming a ‘V’ with his thumb and index to tuck under his chin with a wink. 

“You’re like an animated character, I swear,” Taehyun shakes his head. “Can I divorce you?”

Beomgyu gasps dramatically. 

“What? Of course not! I leave for half a school day and this is what happens to me?! You don’t love me anymore, Taehyun?!” 

Taehyun sighs. 

Chapter Text

After the final bell rings, Yeonjun considers just walking straight home instead of taking the bus. For once since he’s come to this town, it’s not raining, and it looked like the sun might come out from all the grey. But he’s barely made it two steps outside the school gates when—

“Yeonjun!”

He freezes.

Beomgyu jogs up beside him, grinning. His hoodie’s still on under his blazer, and now the sleeves are pushed up to his elbows. His hair’s even messier than before, like he’s been running fingers through it all day. The sight sends a weird flutter through Yeonjun’s chest.

“Thought you were ditching me,” Beomgyu says, mock-pouting.

“I— no, I wasn’t,” Yeonjun insists quickly. “I just… I’m sorry, I forgot.”

Beomgyu chuckles. “Forgot we were gonna get ice cream? How could you?” He says playfully-mad.

Yeonjun flushes. “I didn’t forget! I just… okay. I might’ve been nervous.”

Beomgyu pauses mid-step.

“Nervous? Why?” He frowns. 

Because you’re cool, and popular, and you talk to everyone like it’s nothing. Because I have no idea what I’m doing and I still don’t know why you’re being so nice to me, Yeonjun wants to say. 

“…I just don’t usually do stuff like this,” Yeonjun says instead.

Beomgyu tilts his head, considering.

“Okay. Well. First time for everything, right?” He spins his keys around his finger. “Come on. I got dropped off today, so I stole Soobin hyung’s car. We’ve got wheels.”

“Stole?”

“Borrowed.” Beomgyu winks. “I mean… his car keys were just there, you know?” 

—

The drive is… quiet at first.

Yeonjun sits stiffly in the passenger seat, hands clasped in his lap, only sneaking glances at Beomgyu when he’s sure the omega’s not looking. The car smells like cherries and whatever hair product Beomgyu uses.

Beomgyu hums along to a song on the radio. He even drums his fingers on the wheel. Like driving and hanging out and being liked comes effortlessly to him. (It probably does.)

Yeonjun fiddles with the zipper of his jacket.

“So, um… what kind of ice cream do you like?”

Beomgyu glances at him, smiling. “Ooh, we’re doing small talk now?”

Yeonjun blinks. “I—”

“I’m kidding,” Beomgyu laughs, his expression growing softer and less teasing. “I like anything with chocolate chips in it. Cookie dough’s top tier. Or mint choco, but that one’s controversial.”

“…I like cookie dough too.”

“That’s it,” Beomgyu says, face lighting up again. “We’re officially besties. You have good taste.”

Yeonjun blinks.

Besties?

And then he smiles down at his hands. 

Besties. Yeah… he liked the sound of that. 

—

They end up at a tiny ice cream place a few streets away from school. There’s barely anyone else inside. Beomgyu orders a double scoop of cookie dough and immediately takes a huge bite.

“Brain freeze!” he yells through a mouthful, clutching his forehead.

Yeonjun can’t help it— he laughs. Beomgyu’s scrunched up nose is adorable, and he pouts at Beomgyu when he laughs. 

“My misery is funny, is that it?” He squints.

Yeonjun stops laughing. 

“No, of course not—” He panics.

“Relax, Yeonjun hyung. I’m kidding.” Beomgyu says. “Wait, what did you get again?” 

Yeonjun holds up his strawberry ice cream on the waffle cone. 

“Strawberry. They ran out of cookie dough.” He says.

Beomgyu frowns. 

“Oof— sorry, I think I was the one who took it all. You want some of mine?” He offers, holding the cone out in front of Yeonjun.

With the cookie dough ice cream. That he took a bit out of already. 

“I—“ Yeonjun malfunctions. 

Beomgyu just laughs again and pulls out his phone.

“I’m kidding, hyung. I mean, if you want it, I can but I don’t think you do. Okay… Here,” he says, thrusting his phone toward Yeonjun. “Number?”

Yeonjun’s heart stutters.

“Oh. Uh— yeah. Sure.”

His fingers are embarrassingly sweaty as he types in his number. Beomgyu immediately sends him a text— “💛🍦”— and Yeonjun catches a glimpse of his contact name saved as Yeonjun hyung.

Yeonjun stares at the text on his phone. 

“Don’t delete it,” Beomgyu warns, still grinning. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“I wouldn’t,” Yeonjun says, softly, and fiddles around to change the Unknown Number to Beomgyu. 

It’s a bit hard to believe that loner him had suddenly gained the attention of popular Beomgyu— and was out here eating ice cream with him and that he was friends with him now. And he got Beomgyu’s number (well… Beomgyu got his number, really). 

Beomgyu suddenly perks up. “Hey! The school basketball game’s tonight! Wanna go?”

Yeonjun blinks.

“You mean like… with people?” He asks— sounding pathetic to himself. He wishes he could take those embarrassing words back. 

Beomgyu squints at him. “…That’s generally how school sports work, yes.”

Yeonjun panics. He’s never been to a school game before. Crowds? People screaming? Stuffed gyms and flashing lights and social expectations? He’s a loner— been one since practically forever— no, no, he doesn’t do all that, going and hanging out with school classmates. 

But Beomgyu is looking at him with those hopeful, wide eyes.

I can’t say no, Yeonjun thinks grimly. I literally don’t have the capacity to say no to this boy. Fuck. 

“…Sure,” he says weakly.

Beomgyu fist-pumps. “Nice! Let’s go now then, we can’t be late to Heeseung and Ni-ki’s game, right?”

—

The gym is total chaos.

Kids cram into bleachers, some wearing school colors, some waving signs with glittery paint, others just screaming because it’s Friday and it’s their school’s sports game and this is what school spirit is supposed to look like.

Yeonjun stands frozen just inside the entrance, eyes wide.

Beomgyu grabs his wrist.

“Come on! Don’t just stand there, newbie hyung.”

Yeonjun lets himself get dragged. Beomgyu waves at half a dozen people on the way in— students, teachers, someone’s mom— and even high-fives the guy manning the popcorn machine. He really is the popular— maybe not just with the whole school, but the whole town. 

“How do you know so many people?” Yeonjun mutters as they finally sit.

Beomgyu shrugs, flashing a grin.

“I’m really extroverted. Plus, I grew up here and these are all people I’ve seen around— they know me and I know them.”

Yeonjun’s pretty sure that much is obvious.

On the court, White Rose’s team is doing drills. Heeseung jogs across the court, hsi new bright red hair tied back with a sweatband, while Ni-ki chucks basketballs at the wall with great force. There’s a rhythm to it— squeak of shoes, thud of bouncing, whistles and cheers. It’s… actually pretty fun to watch them. 

And Yeonjun would be more focused on watching, if not for the body pressed against his side (the gym was too packed for personal space anymore), Beomgyu’s warmth seeping into Yeonjun’s side and his laugh practically rumbling into Yeonjun’s ear. He’s so… close. For a fleeting second, Yeonjun wonders what would happen if he— no. He shouldn’t. He can’t. 

Then Foxwood’s team enters— and the vibe of the gym changes immediately.

Their uniforms are darker. They look more aggressive, more matured, more angry. One of them shoulders past Ni-ki unnecessarily hard and the white-blond stumbles, with tomato-hair Heeseung steadying him while glaring at the Foxwood player. 

Beomgyu huffs.

“Ugh. Foxwood. Watch— those guys always cheat.”

Sure enough, by the second quarter, Yeonjun watches one of the Foxwood forwards very obviously elbow a White Rose player in the ribs when the ref isn’t looking, and gets the ball again. 

“See?” Beomgyu says, arms crossed. “That was foul. That was so a foul.”

Another play later, and Ni-ki gets tripped on a rebound— but the ref waves it off again.

“They’re letting everything slide,” Beomgyu mutters. “Typical. That ref’s probably from Foxwood or something.”

Yeonjun glances at him. His brows are furrowed, but there’s a spark in his eye, too— a fire of loyalty, of passion. It burns brightly in his eyes, his happy sparkle replaced with sheer burn. 

It’s kind of… adorable like this too. 

Yeonjun looks back at the court, where Heeseung is lining up at the three-point line, breathing hard. His red hair sticks to his sweat-covered forehead and he looks very out of breath, and a little mad. 

“C’mon…” Beomgyu whispers under his breath, but he’s so close that it’s like he’s saying it right into Yeonjun’s ear. 

Yeonjun finds himself whispering it too, despite not really knowing what was going on— other than the fact that Foxwood was cheating and White Rose’s chances of winning were slim.

“C’mon.”

The gym pulses. The buzzer sounds. And the ball sails—

Straight into the net.

The crowd erupts.

Beomgyu jumps to his feet, cheering wildly, and Yeonjun stares up at him, dazed.

Beomgyu turns, and grabs Yeonjun’s sleeve.

“Oh my god! That was so cool, right?!”

Yeonjun nods dumbly, breathless and half-smiling. His ears are ringing from the cheers, but somehow Beomgyu’s voice cuts right through the noise, clear and bright and shining. Beomgyu’s eyes are still sparkling. He doesn’t let go of Yeonjun’s sleeve, even when he drops back down into his seat with a bounce, tugging Yeonjun along beside him.

“So, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Beomgyu asks, tilting his head and grinning like he knows the answer already.

Yeonjun shakes his head.

“No,” he murmurs, voice soft but sure. “It… it wasn’t. Thank you for bringing me along.”

Beomgyu beams, as if Yeonjun just told him he won a Grammy award or something.

“Of course! What kind of bestie would I be if I didn’t force you into social situations at least once a week? My new goal, by the way,” He nudges Yeonjun’s side. “You gotta let the rest of the school fall in love with you too, you know. Can’t keep you all to myself, right?”

Yeonjun’s heart does a weird flip at that, and he stares down at his knees because what was he supposed to say to that?!

“I… I don’t think anyone’s gonna fall in love with me,” he says awkwardly.

Beomgyu hums thoughtfully. “You’d be surprised.”

Yeonjun looks up, startled, but Beomgyu’s already twisting around again to wave at someone a few rows up— someone from the drama club, maybe, judging by her shirt, who gives him a double thumbs-up.

“Oh my gosh!” Beomgyu turns toward him suddenly, practically bouncing in his seat. “I almost forgot— next week, we have our Spring Carnival—i t’s like our school’s annual spring festival— and my band is performing! It would be literally so awesome if you came to watch us.”

“I still can’t believe you’re a popular boy and you play in a band.” Yeonjuns says. “I heard it’s also an official band outside of school… and you have a lot of albums on Dotify.”

Beomgyu beams like the compliment just made his whole week.

“You’ll come, right?” he asks, voice slipping into something just a little more shy, like maybe it actually matters to him. “I mean… even if you don’t like festivals and crowds and stuff, it’s all outside and there’s a bunch of food and booths and dumb games. And you don’t have to talk to anyone but me, I promise.”

That last part is what does Yeonjun in.

He looks at Beomgyu— a ray of sunlight in a gym full of flickering artificial lights, someone who smiles like it’s muscle memory and grabs Yeonjun’s wrist without a second thought, the warmth seeping into Yeonjun’s skin— and there’s really only one thing he can say.

“…Yeah. I’ll come.”

Beomgyu’s grin splits wide. “Yes! You won’t regret it, hyung. I’ll make sure you win at least one plushie. Or three.”

Yeonjun chuckles under his breath. “You’re really confident.”

Beomgyu leans close, whispering conspiratorially.

“I may or may not have rigged the milk bottle toss game last year. Don’t tell.” He puts a finger to his lips in a ‘hush’ motion. 

“I won’t,” Yeonjun promises with a small laugh. 

—

Yeonjun lies on his stomach in bed, the hem of his hoodie bunched up under his ribs and his legs lazily swinging behind him. The blankets are kicked off and half the lights are still on, but he doesn’t care. His room is warmer now, somehow— less like a place he crashed into, more like one he’s settling into finally.

All the boxes that once packed the room are finally unpacked, broken down, tucked away where they belonged. His books are stacked neatly on the little shelf by the window. His desk isn’t perfect— papers still scattered and one drawer won’t close all the way (he suspects he broke it during the move)— but there’s no more clutter on the floor. There’s space now, which is great for him and his problem with not being able to find anything that had existed for a few days too many. 

He didn’t even realize how cramped it had felt until now, stretched out like this with the overhead fan whirring and no cardboard towers watching him from every corner.

His phone buzzes beside him.

Beomgyu

made it home! almost got in trouble for “stealing” soobin hyung’s car but i told him u were my accomplice so now we’re both wanted criminals. congrats 🤝

Yeonjun snorts, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

He doesn’t hesitate to type back.

Yeonjun

it was a borrowed getaway vehicle. we’re innocent.

Beomgyu responds instantly.

Beomgyu

tell that to soobin hyung’s frowny face and hands on his hips pose 

Yeonjun huffs out a laugh, burying half his face in his pillow. He’s still smiling when the next message comes through.

Beomgyu

Hey

thanks for coming tonight

really. it was fun with u there.

Yeonjun stares at that one a little longer.

It’s simple. Not overthought. Probably sent without hesitation.

But it hits him square in the chest.

His thumbs hover over the keyboard before he finally types.

Yeonjun

thanks for inviting me

i had fun too. really.

He pauses. Then adds, before he can second-guess it.

you made it easy.

There’s a longer delay this time. Then:

😳 hyung stop i’m gonna cry

ur stuck with me forever now ok?

u don’t get a say btw.

Yeonjun bites back another grin. His chest feels full in a way he can’t name.

Yeonjun

…okay

i’ll keep the plushies you win me though. that’s non-negotiable.

Beomgyu

DEAL 🤝

Yeonjun finally sets the phone down beside him, lips stretched out in a big smile. It’s been a while since he smiled so hard like this. His eyes drifted closed. The room is quiet, the night is calm, and for the first time since moving here, he doesn’t feel like he’s missing something.

He has friends. (Okay well, no, he has one friend.) 

He has Beomgyu.

And right now, that feels like enough.

Chapter Text

Huening Kai ambushes him during lunch the next day.

“You went out with Choi Beomgyu?!” 

Yeonjun chokes on his own saliva.

“What?!”

Kai slams his tray down on the table with dramatic force, sending a few carrot sticks rolling. He jabs an accusatory finger in Yeonjun’s direction, eyes wide with betrayal and glee all at once.

“People are talking— the new guy sat right next to Beomgyu at the basketball game and they came in together too! Ha, I knew it, you do have a crush on him!” 

Yeonjun is pretty sure his soul exits his body for a full five seconds.

“I do not—” he hisses, face burning. “I don’t have a crush, we’re just— he invited me to ice cream, okay? And then the basketball game. And— and it wasn’t even like that.”

Kai raises a suspicious brow and shovels a spoonful of yogurt into his mouth without breaking eye contact.

“You got ice cream together?” He repeats. 

“It wasn’t a date,” Yeonjun mutters, feeling the need to express that, shoving his tray around uselessly. “It was just— he’s nice. He invited me. We’re friends now, I guess.”

Kai beams like he’s just been proven right in a court of law.

“Aw~! You’re smitten.”

“I’m not smitten.”

“You totally are~!” 

Yeonjun groans, smacking his forehead onto the table.

“I hate you.”

Kai pats his back sympathetically.

“It’s okay. Love hits the best of us.”

Yeonjun lifts his head just enough to glare at him. “We’re not in love. I barely know him.”

“But you want to know him.” Kai grins smugly. 

Yeonjun opens his mouth to argue— and stops.

He does.

He wants to know what Beomgyu’s favorite song is and if he always sings under his breath while driving. He wants to know why he’s always smiling and whether it ever cracks for real. He wants to know if the light in Beomgyu’s eyes ever goes out for more than a second, and if Yeonjun could help when it does. He wants to know the Choi Beomgyu behind his popular boy mask— behind all the smiles and the pretending-to-be-fines. 

He looks down at his tray, quietly.

“…I think I might,” he mutters.

Kai lets out a long, satisfied ooooohhh. He’s glowing with gossip power now.

Yeonjun braces himself for teasing— but it doesn’t come. Instead, Kai just shrugs and smiles.

“I mean, if you do, that’s cool. Beomgyu’s a good guy. Just… he’s had a rough time sometimes, okay? So be gentle with him. Even if he acts like nothing ever gets to him.”

Yeonjun glances up, surprised by the sudden shift in tone. “You know him that well?”

Kai nods, fiddling with the cap of his juice bottle.

“I… kinda? I’ve known Beomgyu since we were kids. I mean, me and my family moved during fifth grade, so we aren’t close now, but… before then, me and him were friends. He always made everything into a joke, but he’s got this… thing. Like, he always tries to be everyone’s light, you know? Even when he’s the one who needs it.”

Yeonjun doesn’t say anything. He just tucks that away in his chest like a fragile paper note. It’s something he definitely needs to keep in mind for later. 

Kai bumps his shoulder gently. “Anyway. If you do like him, don’t be weird about it. Just, like, ask him to hang out again or something.”

Yeonjun’s heart jumps into his throat. “What? Again?! I— I don’t even know what I’d say—”

“Literally just say, hey Beomgyu wanna hang out again and he’ll probably go sure hyung let’s go do something stupid and fun. You’ve already been out once. Just go again.”

Yeonjun fiddles with his fork. “You make it sound easy.”

Kai grins. “It is easy. Unless you overthink it. Which you will. But I believe in you, hyung.”

Yeonjun glares again, but it’s weaker this time. “You’re annoying.”

“And you’re in love~!”

“I AM NOT—”

“Hello~!” a voice singsongs from behind them—and Yeonjun nearly yelps when Beomgyu plops down into the seat right next to him, placing his juice down with a flourish and grinning like nothing in the world could ruin his mood.

Kai sends Yeonjun a look. Yeonjun silently mouths don’t you dare.

Kai smiles sweetly and turns to Beomgyu with a polite expression.

“Hi, Beomgyu hyung. Lovely weather today. Did you enjoy the basketball game last night?”

Beomgyu blinks, then smiles lazily.

“Yup, I did. Had good company.”

Yeonjun chokes on air.

Kai doesn’t even try to hide his smirk as he peels the lid off his yogurt (another one) and hums innocently. 

“I see, I see.” He nods, pretending to be all serious. 

Yeonjun slumps in his seat, praying for lightning to strike him on the spot. Or for Beomgyu to please stop looking at him like that. But Beomgyu just leans forward, propping his chin in his hand as he tilts his head to look over at Yeonjun.

“So,” he says. “What are you doing after school today?”

Yeonjun swallows hard.

Maybe Kai was right.

Maybe he is smitten.

“I uhm… I didn’t… I didn’t— I mean, I don’t have plans— and I, uhm— can we— could we— wanna hang out?” He squeaks out. 

“Well… We were all gonna crash at an arcade-cafe today— Soobin hyung wanted us to finish homework though, so we negotiated we’d do that at the cafe, and then play. Wanna come along?” Beomgyu says casually. 

Oh.

With everyone else? 

“Uhm, yeah, sure.” Yeonjun mumbles out. 

“Great, I’ll tell them you’re joining us. Anyways, I was just stopping by to say hi. I’ll leave you two be now— unless you guys want to sit over at our table?” Beomgyu nods over at his table where his bandmates are there. 

“Sure!” Kai smiles. “…If you don’t mind.” 

“Of course not, I offered, didn’t I?” Beomgyu grins. “And… it’s been a while, Kai.”

Kai’s eyes widened. 

“Huh? Oh… Yeah. It— it has.” 

Beomgyu lightly punches Kai’s shoulder.

“You never came to say hi, you know? After all those years? You left for four years, and then you come back to Korea, come to the same school as me, and then don’t even hang out with me? Friends for all of elementary meant nothing, Kai?” He teases. 

“I just… I wasn’t sure if you considered me your friend anymore and… you were already so popular here, with the town and with everyone… and you had your band and new friends.” Kai mumbles. 

Beomgyu’s face softened. 

“Of course we’re still friends.” 

“And— and—” Kai starts again. “I presented as an alpha… and I saw you were an omega and… and I heard rumors circling around about alphas having hurt you and so… I didn’t know if I was allowed to be your friend anymore.” 

“Oh Kai,” Beomgyu says. “Of course you can be! That doesn’t matter— friends are friends, regardless of subgenders and whatnot! Some alphas are assholes— but others are angels, like you— and Ni-ki and Heeseung and of course, Soobin hyung when he’s had his caffeine intake.” 

Kai lets out a small, breathy laugh.

“Oh hey, you wanna join us at the arcade later?” Beomgyu asks, eyes twinkling. 

Kai gapes at him— before nodding quickly.

“Yeah— that’d— that would be awesome!” He says enthusiastically. 

Beomgyu starts standing up.

“Let’s all be friendly, okay? And you guys are welcome to sit with us whenever,” he grins. 

“But… I thought no one else could sit there… where you guys sit.” Kai looks confused.

Beomgyu laughs. “I think Taehyun started scaring them off— and I guess people just prefer to watch than come over and ask if they could sit. But I’ll make sure he lets you two sit with us. We all really won’t mind— not if you guys are being genuine about being friends, and not, like, having bad intentions.” 

Kai nods quickly. 

“Of course!” 

“Cool,” Beomgyu grins. “C’mon. I gotta steal Tae’s fries. And if I’m lucky, maybe Ni-ki will let me steal his chocolate cookie.” He jokes. He glances at Yeonjun.

“You’re coming too, right?”

Yeonjun nods, heart fluttering at the way Beomgyu was including him… or maybe Yeonjun was reading too much into things. Yeah, he probably was— yet again. Bravo, way to go Choi Yeonjun. Really, yay. 

Beomgyu leads him and Kai over to the table where Ni-ki and Heeseung are arm wrestling each other and Taehyun is snorting about “jock alphas and their pride”. Soobin sits a little away from them while a pile of manila folders he was flipping through with a concentrating frown, ocassionally muttering something under his breath that suspiciously sounds a lot like “these fucking airheads”.  

“Yo guys— Kai and Yeonjun hyung are gonna sit with us. They’re also coming along for the arcade hang out— no objections, right?” Beomgyu asks, plopping down beside. Taehyun, just as Ni-ki slams Heeseung’s hand against the table. 

Heeseung lets out a frustrated huff, and then demands another round— face scrunched in a pout. Ni-ki shakes his head, sipping on his chocolate milk with a chuckle, and says: “Save your energy for basketball practice later, tomato hyung.” 

Heeseung then groans about his “baby duckling having grown up too fast and is now beating his father in all sorts of things” and then sits up right to nod at Beomgyu.

“Huh, yeah sure.” He says.

Beomgyu rolls his eyes with a mock-offended look, and then he’s turning to Kai, talking animatedly. Yeonjun could only stare at him. 

—

“Hey, I have a question— why do you never take off your scent patches outside of school?” Beomgyu asks. “I don’t think I’ve ever caught your scent before.” 

They’re in the arcade entrance, getting their wristbands and paying for their visit. Beomgyu is standing in the back along with Yeonjun, as Soobin talks with the staff and pays. 

Yeonjun shrugs. 

“I just uh… don’t want to?” He tries. 

Luckily, Beomgyu takes that as an answer and nods. 

“Okay,” he says with a shrug.  “…Isn’t it itchy though?” 

Yeonjun shakes his head.

“It isn’t,” he lies.

Beomgyu hums. 

—

“Soobin hyung, I love you, but I swear, if you correct me one more time—”

“You keep forgetting to distribute the negative!” Soobin huffs, nudging Ni-ki’s notebook back toward him. “It’s basic algebra!”

Ni-ki groans and flops dramatically over the table.

“Hyunggg! This is an arcade! We’re not supposed to suffer here!”

Across from them, Kai is chewing his pen cap as he squints at his worksheet.

“Sooo… Is this... preposition or conjunction?”

“Conjunction,” Beomgyu says, chin propped on his hand. “But also? Who cares. Let’s go play.”

“No,” Soobin snaps, not looking up from grading Heeseung’s history answers with a red pen he definitely brought himself. “Finish the page. Then freedom.”

Yeonjun sighs, slumping next to Beomgyu.

“This is literally the worst kind of thing to be doing in life.” He says with a groan, completely meaning it. 

Beomgyu snorts and tries to steal Kai’s cookie. Kai slaps his hand away without looking.

“I’m done!” Taehyun announces, sliding his paper across the table. “And I got every single answer right. Let’s go now.”

“You don’t even need to study,” Heeseung mutters. “You just do it to show off, asshole.”

Taehyun shrugs. “And yet here I am. Done. While you’re still trying to spell ‘revolution.’”

“I hate geniuses,” Yeonjun groans and Taehyun scoffs at him with a tiny smile.

Soobin finally lifts his head.

“Fine. Okay, ten more minutes. Then we can go lose at Dance Dance Revolution.”

“I never lose,” Beomgyu says, standing up.

“Lies,” Heeseung and Ni-ki say in unison, and Kai snorts with a beginning of a laugh. 

“Let’s goooo,” Beomgyu whoops, already heading toward the machines and Soobin simply sighs, shaking his head, but not stopping his brother. 

Books forgotten, laughter trailing behind them, the boys scatter— bright lights and loud music pulling them into chaos like gravity. Evidentally, they have finished doing homework for the day. 

Yeonjun is pulled along by Beomgyu to try out nearly everything in the arcade and— honestly, he doesn’t care that he’s losing nearly all of the games because Beomgyu’s smile was lighting up the entire place and alright so maybe Yeonjun was losing because he kept staring at Beomgyu but… it was like he had a magnet— like he was a magnet. 

And Yeonjun let himself get drawn into the shining light— so he was the moth?— and… no, this was not a crush. He just… they were friends. 

Chapter Text

Beomgyu, Heeseung, and Ni-ki have gone to the dance machine, while Soobin grabs something from the cafe after losing way too many rounds of everything (and unlike Yeonjun, he had his full focus so it really wasn’t a matter of being distracted, it was of skill, or the lack of, more like it). Yeonjun, a bit tired out too, is sitting by the abandonned, lights-off shooter game set, and Taehyun stands next to him. It’s a bit awkward— Yeonjun’s not really close with Taehyun, nor has he really talked with him that much, not at that hangout the other day (Beomgyu did most of the talking), nor really anywhere else. He didn’t mind it. Just… it kinda felt like Taehyun sorta disliked him? Mildly? 

Yeonjun glances over at the group of friends, where Beomgyu’s at the racing game with Kai, Ni-ki, and Heeseung, all crammed around the machines like it’s the most important competition of their lives. Kai’s yelling at Ni-ki to stop swerving, Heeseung’s steering like a maniac, and Beomgyu—

Beomgyu’s laughing.

Head thrown back, eyes crinkled, that bright grin lighting up his whole face.

He’s glowing in a way Yeonjun can’t look away from.

His hair falls into his eyes and he doesn’t bother brushing it back, just leans into the curve of the wheel again and yells something to Ni-ki, who responds with a dramatic gasp of betrayal. Beomgyu laughs harder, hands flying off the wheel for a second as he nearly crashes into Kai’s car on screen.

And Yeonjun just... watches.

Watches the way the lights bounce off Beomgyu’s skin, how his lips curve so easily when he smiles, how his whole body moves when he’s caught up in a game or a joke or just the moment. The way he carries himself with a confident bounce and the sparkle in his eyes almost all day, every day. 

He’s beautiful. 

Not in some big dramatic way. He’s not a movie star or a superhero or anything. 

He’s just… a guy that carries himself as if he might, just might, be king. A guy who doesn’t crave attention but gets it— deserves it, someone worthy of being loved. 

Just… in this small, quiet, golden way that makes Yeonjun forget to breathe for a second. Just another kid in another town, who fills up everything in warm gold. 

“You’re staring.”

“H—huh?” 

Yeonjun whirls around to face Taehyun, who is looking at him with a deadpan expresion, arms crossed. He doesn’t look very pleased, and he strolls over to stand right beside Yeonjun, leaning on the wall behind him. 

 Yeonjun scrambles for a response, heat rushing up his neck.

“I— I wasn’t! I was just— uh, looking at the game. You know. Intense race. Really suspenseful.”

Taehyun glances over at the racing game where Beomgyu is currently losing to Kai by several miles and making a dramatic scene about it.

“…Right,” Taehyun says flatly. “So suspenseful.”

Yeonjun opens his mouth, then closes it again. He tries not to look back at Beomgyu.

Fails.

Beomgyu’s laughing again, all bright and beautiful, and Yeonjun’s chest hurts in the stupidest, softest way. Oh dear, he’s a bit of a goner now, isn’t he? 

Taehyun huffs. 

“You know,” he says slowly, “if you’re gonna be this obvious, you might as well admit it.”

“Admit what?” Yeonjun squeaks, probably too quickly.

Taehyun just raises an eyebrow.

Yeonjun squirms. “I— ugh.”

There’s a beat of silence. The arcade hums around them.

Beomgyu lets out a loud giggle and Yeonjun’s heart skips a beat. 

“Maybe I do have a crush on him,” Yeonjun realized. And then clapped a hand over his mouth— he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. He prays Taehyun didn’t hear him but… he did. And for some weird reason, he looks even more angry— when it had been him trying to get Yeonjun to admit his crush on Beomgyu. 

“What?” Taehyun scoffs. “Wow, finally admitting that. And also— Beomgyu’s an omega, if you didn’t realize that. And you’re an omega too, right? Just a heads up.” 

“I— um, yeah. I know. And I just— I want to be friends with Beomgyu, really, that’s all it is. He seems really cool.” Yeonjun stammers out, a little flustered. “It’s not a crush— it isn’t— I swear—”

Taehyun looks at him, and then something changes in his expression. There’s a shift and— suddenly, all the anger melts out into something that Yeonjun can’t quite grasp the emotion of. Longing? Sadness? Confusion? 

“…A crush, huh?” 

“Uhm, yeah.” Yeonjun nods, blinking nervously at Taehyun.

Taehyun hums. 

“It all starts with a crush— well, the denial— and then you realize it is one. You think it’s just another stupid little thing, and it’ll fade as time passes. And then… it keeps spiraling— and spiraling— until you realize it’s not just a silly, stupid, little crush. It’s… everything.” He says.

Yeonjun swallows. 

“Yeah?” He says. 

“Mhm.”

Yeonjun and Taehyun are silent for a few, long moments. 

“He held onto my heart too, you know?” Taehyun says really quietly. “Just for a while… My heart was all his to keep.”

Yeonjun stares at him, wide eyed. 

What…?

“Like everyone says… There isn’t a single person who doesn’t fall in love with Choi Beomgyu,” Taehyun huffs, but his eyes are pooled with blue and grey. “He comes into your life with his sunny personality and his... his charms. He attracts everyone— and that… that included me. He came into my life and just… took my heart with him and… I thought I could let him, and he could let his heart become mine but I—” Taehyun lets out a shaky breath. “In the end I was a coward. I saw the way society viewed omega-omega relationships and alpha-alpha ones and I— I loved Beomgyu as a person and he loved me as one too but in the end…”

Taehyun glances over at Beomgyu, and then gazes back down at his hands clasped together in front of him. 

“In the end… I chose to just stay friends. I loved him for him— for being Choi Beomgyu— and yet in the end, I didn’t stay with him. I couldn’t— and… I guess what hurt is that he understood. So I... So now we’re just friends. Best friends— and I guess it’s for the best. And I guess I’m a little pathetic calling him my husband platonically even after I rejected our feelings and I— I told him it was better off this way and I just—” Taehyun lets out a shuddering laugh. “This sounds like some fucking tragic romance novel, the cliche ones about the whole Romeo, Juliet trope.”

Yeonjun is speechless and he’s left staring at the Taehyun— this side of Taehyun he never knew existed, never thought would come from the stony, blunt-tongued omega he’d met as Beomgyu’s friend, this raw version of him. 

“Just please… Make sure you don’t hurt him.” Taehyun whispers, looking straight into Yeonjun’s eyes. “You say this isn’t a crush— that you don’t like Beomgyu that way but— I can see the past me that fell in love with the same guy in you. So Yeonjun. I can’t convince you but… if you like Beomgyu for who he is… Then I hope you don’t let stupid subgenders and stereotypes and societal standards stop you. I… I guess that’s all I wanted you to hear. So— so get out of my fucking way now.” He huffs, shoving past Yeonjun as he stomps off.

“Hey… Taehyun?” 

The omega pauses, but doesn’t turn around.

“…Thank you.” 

Taehyun glances at Yeonjun. 

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” He mutters, but the ends of his lips curl up. Just a little but… it’s a lot when it came from Kang Taehyun. “And… just know I do support omega-omega relationships, so… you can go ahead and win over my best friend. If you want or whatever,” he adds hastily. 

“I’m— I’m an alpha.” Yeonjun blurts out. 

Taehyun whirls around to finally face Yeonjun properly and his mouth is open. 

“I um—” Yeonjun swallows. “You assumed— and I never got a chance to correct you— I’m sorry, I—” 

Taehyun sighs. 

“Well, Beomgyu’s not much of the typical omega— not like the stereotypical one, I mean— so I suppose you don’t have to be the stereotypical alpha either.” He shrugs. “Fine. I don’t know what you want me to do with that info, but thanks I guess. Anyways, shoot your shot. If you’re an alpha, you have a better fucking chance than me I guess— not that I have any romantic feelings for Beomgyu anymore. I got over it.” His eyes tell a different story, but Yeonjun decides not to comment on it. 

Then Taehyun is walking over to Beomgyu who is currently crawling out of the racing game chair in despair, groaning and dramatically waving his arms around, claiming Kai cheated— the nerve— and Yeonjun watches as Taehyun lets Beomgyu lean on him and teases him with a snarky grin, and he starts to see it, what he hadn’t noticed before. The way Taehyun’s eyes linger a little too long on Beomgyu, how his lips curl up but his eyes look so sad as they gaze at Beomgyu, how he looks like… he’s regretting, but also longing.

Chapter Text

Yeonjun eventually has to go home— Soobin and Beomgyu offer to drop him off since he was on their street— and he shrugs off his backpack and toes off his shoes, entering the house. Today however, it’s not completely silent. There’s noises coming from the kitchen.

Oh. 

His dad is home for once, seated at the dining table with a large file he’s glancing over. His mother is humming by the stove, stirring something in the pot. It must be a special day— both his parents are at home. They’re never home— they’d been too busy once the family had moved to this town. 

Yeonjun furrows his brows.

“Hi… Mom, Dad.” He says slowly. 

His dad finally glances up from the file. “Yeonjun-ah,” he says, like he’s surprised to see him.

“It’s… been a while, Dad.” Yeonjun says softly. His father’s chin is covered in stubble and he looks much more older— though it had only been a little less than a week.

“I’m sorry, I know I’ve been far too busy lately— I didn’t mean to be distant, Jun-ah,” his father says. “I got a few hours off today, but I’m going to have to go back later. But I wanted to be present for dinner for once.” He says, then goes back to his files. 

Work. Work, work, work— too busy— work, work, Yeonjun thinks bitterly, but shoots his dad a small smile, before glancing at the stairs.

“I’ll go do my homework then,” he starts, but his dad stops him.

“Where were you? I thought your school ended at three.” 

Yeonjun clears his throat. “I… I was out— I was hanging out with some friends.”

“Friends?” His parents echo in sync.

Yeonjun stiffens. He hadn’t realized how much that word meant until they said it like that.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, voice smaller. “Friends.”

“You made friends?” His dad blinks. 

Yeonjun nods. 

“Well then,” His mother says. “Good for you, Jun-ah. I’m glad. Who are they?” 

“Choi Beomgyu, and his brother Soobin— and Beomgyu’s friends, Ni-ki and Heeseung and Taehyun. And Huening Kai— I met him at lunch and we became friends.” Yeonjun says a little proudly. 

“Choi Beomgyu?” His dad repeats, eyes widening. 

“Yeah, and Soobin too,” Yeonjun adds. “Something wrong, Dad…?”

His dad shakes his head. 

“No, no. It’s just… Their parents are very big figures— so much so that I hear about them from co-workers, just time to time. Their father runs a big agency that mine is actually under, and their mother… You know Minari, right?” 

Yeonjun nods. Mina Lee— better known as Minari— the fashion icon of the country, who owned the largest modeling agency in all of South Korea. Everyone knew of her— and of her clothing lines and how models rose to stardom under her guise and care. 

“She’s their mother— and I’ve been hearing a lot of rumors about her wanting to take back custody of her omega son and whatnot. I wouldn’t have thought of him as someone you’d befriend, that’s all.” 

Yeonjun bits down on his tongue.

“…I’m going to go do my homework now,” he mumbles, before trudging up the stairs.

Yeah… Beomgyu was a little out of his league. What was Yeonjun even doing?

—

Yeonjun

Beomgyu? 

Beomgyu

Hey!!! 👋 What’s up? 

Yeonjun

I just

I was wondering

Can I ask about your parents?

I heard something from my dad and just…

I guess I was curious

If you don’t mind ofc 

Beomgyu

oof depends on what you heard lol

my parents are divorced

Mom stays in the city

And me and Soobin hyung stay with appa 

In the house a few blocks from yours

Like duh 😂 but yeah

Does that answer your curiousity??

Yeonjun

My dad apparently works under your dad’s company, in a company under your dad’s

Beomgyu

Whattttt???? Omgggg that’s crazy 

Small world, huh? 

Yeonjun laughs at that. 

Beomgyu

Wanna come over?

You’ve met the son, now time to meet the dad 😂

Yeonjun stares at the message. His stomach flips.

Meet Beomgyu’s dad? Why? Was that normal? Was this a test? What was he even supposed to say to him?

—

Yeonjun rings the doorbell before he can chicken out.

He’s still not sure why Beomgyu wanted him to come over all of a sudden— especially if his dad was home. Yeonjun had changed outfits twice before leaving the house, then changed back because it felt like he was trying too hard. It wasn’t a date. Obviously. It was just a... casual hangout. With Beomgyu. And his CEO of a father.

The door swings open.

“Hey!” Beomgyu grins like it’s nothing. Like he didn’t just casually invite Yeonjun into the lion’s den. “You came fast,” he says, stepping aside to let Yeonjun in.

Yeonjun awkwardly toes off his sneakers and glances around. The inside of Beomgyu’s house is clean— it’s pristine, really. A few framed photos line the hallway as they go down the foyer— of Soobin as a baby, of Beomgyu with a bowl cut, of the two brothers at school events. And some that are clearly professionally taken: Minari, in heels and sunglasses, holding Beomgyu’s hand like a publicist would. There aren’t many of Minari though. 

“Appa!” Beomgyu calls out. “He’s here!” 

“Is that him?” a voice calls from the kitchen. “Is that the mysterious Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun freezes.

A man pokes his head out from around the corner— soft brown hair that flops a little over his forehead, dark eyes that look warm, a mug in one hand, and an apron that says in bright pink, ‘World’s Okayest Chef’ with a dark brown shirt and sweatpants underneath.

“There he is!” the man beams like they’ve met before. “Come in, come in— don’t be shy! We’ve heard so much about you. I was starting to think you were imaginary, ho ho!”

“Appa,” Beomgyu groans, dragging a hand down his face.

“What? I’m just excited to meet the kid you befriended so quickly! You don’t do that often, Bear.”

Yeonjun bows quickly. “It’s nice to meet you, sir— um, Mr. Choi?”

“Mr. Choi?” Beomgyu’s dad laughs, setting down his mug and wiping his hands on a dish towel. “Oh no, don’t make me sound like a landlord or something so boring. Call me Dad. Or Hyun. Or Beomgyu’s dad. Whatever feels right.”

Yeonjun’s so startled he almost bows again. “Uh— okay Mr— I mean— Hyun. Sir. Dad. Uh.”

Beomgyu cackles in the background.

“You want a cinnamon roll?” Hyun asks, already turning back toward the kitchen. “They’re homemade! Kind of. I mean, I bought the dough. But I shaped them with love. That counts, right?”

Yeonjun blinks. “Sure?”

“Beomgyu, my dear, grab plates, will you? Use the ones that don’t have weird cartoons on them, please.”

“No promises,” Beomgyu calls back with a grin.

Yeonjun trails into the kitchen.

“So,” Hyun says, placing a roll on a plate with almost exaggerated care, “my son says you’re ‘amazing’ and he rarely feels genuine friendship for someone so quickly. It took years for him to really befriend Taehyun and Ni-ki and Heeseung! Friends since they were babies, but it was only till middle school he started really trusting them, you know?”

Beomgyu shoves a plate into Yeonjun’s hands.

“Don’t let him scare you off. He’s harmless.”

Hyun gasps, hand to his chest. “I’m being slandered in my own home. After feeding you! My goodness!”

Beomgyu giggles, and then his father is shaking his head, but his hand rufffles his son’s hair. Yeonjun could only stare at the exchange. 

They all sit around the kitchen table, and somehow, the nerves in Yeonjun’s stomach ease just a little. Beomgyu’s dad isn’t what he expected. Not cold. Not intimidating. Just… warm. A little chaotic. Kind. The house had been so pristine and cold— but Beomgyu and his father warmed everything around them into something so cozy.

Nothing like his own.

He bites into the cinnamon roll and tries not to smile too hard.

Maybe this wasn’t so scary after all.

—

The cinnamon roll is warm and sticky, and Yeonjun tries not to inhale it too fast.

They’re sitting at the kitchen table, Beomgyu dunking his in milk like a child, Hyun complaining good-naturedly about the crumbs on the table. There’s music playing faintly from a speaker on the fridge— some indie band Yeonjun doesn’t recognize— and every so often, a breeze floats in through the open window, carrying the smell of rain from the street outside.

It’s… nice.

Too nice.

Yeonjun glances across the table. Beomgyu’s dad is laughing at something Beomgyu said— head thrown back, unguarded. He’s still got the apron on, still sipping from that stupid mug, still smiling like none of this is a performance.

It’s not fair.

Yeonjun swallows hard and looks down at his plate. He can feel the smile slipping from his face.

His dad never looked like that. Not even once.

In their house, the silence always came first— then the tired sighs, the curt questions, the clipped “not now, I’m working”s. Conversations were more like schedule updates. Even the rare dinners together felt stiff and formal, like he was dining with a company executive, not his father.

He doesn’t remember his dad ever cracking a joke just to make him laugh. Not unless it was at someone else’s expense. And even then, it was dry. Tired.

There were no cinnamon rolls in their kitchen. Just reheat meals (unless his mother felt like cooking). Just coffee mugs with company logos. Just cold light and silence and absence.

Yeonjun’s throat feels tight.

He shifts in his seat.

Beomgyu notices.

“You good?” he murmurs, nudging his knee under the table.

Yeonjun forces a smile. “Yeah. Sorry. Just spaced out.”

Beomgyu’s brow furrows, but he lets it go.

Hyun gets up to rinse the plates and hums as he does, flicking water at Beomgyu when he gets too close. The boy shrieks and tries to retaliate with a paper towel roll swat.

They’re ridiculous.

They’re perfect.

And Yeonjun doesn’t know what to do with the sudden ache curling in his chest.

No yelling. No tension. No eggshells to tiptoe on.

Just… love. In broad daylight (evening light…?), with laughter and soft music and cinnamon rolls.

It makes him feel warm and cold all at once.

He presses his palms to his thighs, grounding himself, but the thought creeps in anyway:

I wish my dad were like this.

And beneath that, even quieter:

I wish I’d had this.

Beomgyu’s dad turns to him.

“Ah, it’s nearly seven. Have you had dinner yet, Yeonjun?” He asks. 

Yeonjun shakes his head.

“No. My parents were having dinner— and I told them I wasn’t hungry, and that I was coming over here. I didn’t— I wasn’t planning on staying long, so…” He trails off.

“Well… if you don’t feel like going back yet, you’re more than welcome to join us for dinner!” Hyun smiles warmly. “We have plenty to eat!” 

Yeonjun’s heart warms. 

“I… If you don’t mind, thank you.” He says shyly. 

Beomgyu side-hugs Yeonjun, and he tries not to panic at how close the omega was, his unfiltered cherry scent wafting off of him in excited bursts of sweetened cream and ripe cherries. 

“Aw, we’d love to have you for dinner! Dad’s cooking is kinda mid (Hyun gasps in mock-outrage, a hand on his chest dramatically… so that’s where Beomgyu’s dramaticness came from) but it’s edible.” 

Hyun nods. 

“There’s samgyeopsal and a lot of rice if anyone needs an extra bowl— and pickled radishes and some honey rice cakes and… well, I think that’s it.” He says with a laugh. Then he glances up at the ceiling. 

“Soobin-ah! Soobin-ah!” Hyun calls out loudly. “Choi Soobin— dinner! Dinner’s ready! Come down now!” 

A few seconds later, footsteps thud down the steps and Soobin appears in the kitchen, clad in pajama bottoms and a baggy black t-shirt, with a towel over his head. His eyes widen when he sees Yeonjun and he immediately tugs the towel off his head.

“Oh. Didn’t realize we had company.” He says, water still dripping from his hair. 

Yeonjun manages a shy wave. 

“Hi,” he mumbles out. 

Soobin nods at Yeonjun with a small smile, then glances at Hyun.

“You didn’t tell me he was coming, Appa.”

“I didn’t know either!” Hyun chirps. “But I’m delighted. We always have room for one more.”

“Great,” Soobin says, though he sounds more amused than anything else. He grabs a bowl and starts scooping rice like it’s muscle memory.

They gather around the table again, this time with steaming platters of samgyeopsal in the center, the meat sizzling and glistening beside dishes of dipping sauces, kimchi, and the bright yellow of pickled radish. Yeonjun’s mouth waters almost instantly.

“Pass me the lettuce,” Beomgyu says, already stacking his rice bowl with garlic and pork.

“Nope,” Soobin replies, sliding it just out of reach.

Beomgyu huffs. “You’re such a villain, hyung!”

“I learned from the best,” Soobin says, nodding toward Hyun.

“Hey!” Hyun gasps, laughing. “What kind of father figure am I being slandered as today?”

Yeonjun finds himself smiling again before he can stop it. The bickering is gentle, easy. No one’s voice raises. No one sounds exasperated or tired or biting. It’s just teasing and closeness— so natural it makes Yeonjun ache.

He reaches for a slice of meat, hands careful, almost hesitant, like he’s afraid to disrupt the rhythm of their little world.

“You okay, Yeonjun-ah?” Hyun asks, leaning in a bit. His eyes are kind— not probing, just genuinely curious.

Yeonjun looks up, caught mid-thought. He nods quickly.

“Yes, thank you. This is… really good.”

Hyun grins. “Glad to hear it. You’re always welcome here, you know. Open door policy for Beomgyu’s friends— unless you’re secretly a spy. Are you a spy?”

Yeonjun blinks. “Um… no?”

“Hmm,” Hyun says with a playful squint. “That’s exactly what a spy would say.”

Beomgyu groans. “Appa, please.”

Yeonjun laughs softly, ducking his head.

It’s too much and just enough all at once. His chest swells with warmth and something quieter, deeper. A longing he can’t voice.

He glances toward the window, where the sun is setting in thin strips of pink and orange, the sky bleeding into evening. In the background, the soft murmur of the speaker plays something acoustic and sweet.

No emails. No phones buzzing with deadlines. No meetings hanging over anyone’s head. Just food, and comfort, and voices overlapping around a dinner table that feels full.

Yeonjun doesn’t remember the last time he had this.

Doesn’t remember the last time he was asked if he’d eaten— not because someone wanted to lecture him, but because someone genuinely cared.

He chews slowly. Savors.

Somewhere deep in his ribs, something softens.

Chapter Text

Yeonjun gets home around nine.

The house is quiet again. Lights are off in the living room, the kitchen is spotless, and there’s no music playing, no clatter of dishes, no smells in the air — nothing but the distant hum of the fridge and the weight of stillness.

He toes off his shoes slower this time, his fingers lingering longer on the doorknob as he shuts it behind him. For a second, he just stands there, and lets the silence settle.

It’s so loud.

He trudges up the stairs. His parents’ door is closed. The blue light of his father’s monitor is leaking through the crack under the door. Still working, probably. Or already in another meeting. Or maybe on another call with someone who actually matters to him.

Yeonjun slips into his room and closes the door behind him.

He doesn't turn on the overhead light— just the small lamp by his desk, which casts a warm, yellowish glow over his bed. He collapses onto the comforter with a soft thud.

And he thinks about Beomgyu’s dad.

Thinks about how he joked and ruffled Beomgyu’s hair and hummed while washing dishes. How he called him “Bear” and wore a ridiculous apron and offered him food without a second thought.

Yeonjun doesn’t know why it stuck with him so much. Why it felt like something he wanted to pick up and press to his chest and keep forever. He just knows that it made something inside him ache so badly he didn’t know where to put it.

Hyun hadn’t been trying to impress him. He was just… nice. Messy and loud and weird and nice.

Yeonjun blinks at the ceiling.

His dad and Beomgyu’s… they were so different— so much, it physically hurt. Because why wouldn’t Yeonjun also— 

His throat tightens again. He curls onto his side, hugging a pillow to his chest, and presses his face into it until the sharp sting behind his eyes dulls.

But then—

Beomgyu.

Beomgyu. 

The thought of him arrives uninvited, slipping in sideways into his brain, like sunlight under a curtain. Yeonjun scrunches his eyes shut tighter.

Ugh. Beomgyu, with his stupid cherry scent and his bright eyes and the way he’d leaned into him during dinner without a second thought, all warm and casual and sweet like it was nothing.

Like it was normal.

Beomgyu, who laughed like it came from the soles of his feet and who dunked cinnamon rolls in milk like a menace and said “Wanna come over?” like it was the simplest thing in the world.

Yeonjun’s heart skips and then does a slow, embarrassing roll in his chest.

No. No, no.

He presses the pillow harder against his face.

This wasn’t— He wasn’t—

But now he’s thinking about the way Beomgyu had side-hugged him in the kitchen, all soft-smelling and affectionate, and how Yeonjun’s brain had fizzed out for a full ten seconds and only came back online when Hyun started waving a ladle around.

He groans.

Oh no.

Oh god.

“I do have a crush,” he mutters into the pillow, like saying it out loud will undo it. “Taehyun was right— I do and…” 

Yeah, that was a crush. That was the start of a spiral. The flustered outfit changes, the sweaty palms, the way Beomgyu’s voice made something fuzzy bloom behind his ears. The way Yeonjun couldn’t stop thinking about how kind he was. How cute he was. How easy it was to feel safe around him, like the silence didn’t scare him there.

“Oh shit,” he whispers this time, louder.

He sits up abruptly, hair a mess, heart racing.

This was bad. This was really bad.

Beomgyu was sweet and bright and had a father who made cinnamon rolls with bought dough and wore sweatpants and made jokes about spies. Beomgyu had a whole life full of color and light and people who laughed with him at the table.

Yeonjun had… a cold house, a stiff silence, and a very, very inconvenient crush on the first boy who’d made him feel wanted in weeks.

He lies back down.

Covers his face again.

And groans.

Taehyun was so right. 

He had partially dismissed the idea of it all after coming home from the arcade but— Taehyun was right. He had a crush on Beomgyu— he wasn’t gonna go and deny it now— and… like Taehyun said (more or less), he had to go for it. Or he’d miss the chance. 

—

Upon accepting the fact he really did have a crush and deciding to follow Taehyun’s (sorta) advice, Yeonjun came up with an amazing plan to confess to Beomgyu, shoot his shot or whatever, tell Beomgyu he liked him. 

It started out like this. 

Step One: Flirt a little.

Ease him into it. Make it obvious (but like… casually obvious). Let him feel the general vibe before dropping the love bomb.

Easy, right?

Right. Yes. He could do this. 

+…+

Flirt Attempt #1:

Beomgyu was sitting beside him at the lunch table, knees brushing, talking animatedly to Heeseung about something stupid Ni-ki had done during gym. Yeonjun glanced over, heart thudding. Okay. This was the moment.

“You look good today,” Yeonjun blurted out.

Beomgyu blinked at him. “…I’m literally wearing this hoodie for the third day in a row.”

Yeonjun's brain screamed.

“Um, y—yeah, well… consistency is hot.”

Heeseung dropped his chopsticks in shock. Ni-ki howled with laughter from beside the red-haired boy. Beomgyu just looked at him, baffled, then grinned.

“Thanks… I guess?”

Yeonjun wanted to disappear into his backpack.

—

Flirt Attempt #2: 

“Hey,” Yeonjun said as they walked side by side. “Your scent today smells… stronger than usual. Like by a lot.”

Beomgyu squinted at him. “Are you saying I reek of cherry?”

“No! I meant— like— it’s nice! You smell like fruit and… sugar and…”

“You’re not trying to eat me, right?” Beomgyu asks teasingly. 

Yeonjun tripped over his own feet.

—

Flirt Attempt #3: 

Yeonjun happened to share a class— a single one— with Beomgyu, as he had come to find out. And so, he passed Beomgyu a note that read:

“If I had a star for every time you made me smile, I’d have a galaxy.”

Beomgyu blinked down at it. Then turned to him, wide-eyed.

“Did you just steal that from Pinterest?”

Yeonjun wanted to die.

(He had stolen it from Pinterest.)

—

Flirt Attempt #4: 

Beomgyu was drinking banana milk from a little yellow carton, and Yeonjun said, “You know, I think you’re sweeter than that.”

Beomgyu choked so hard he had to spit it out. “Yeonjun! What the hell?!”

Yeonjun turned bright red.

Taehyun walked by, looked at him once, and whispered, “What the fuck. I said shoot your shot— this is how?!”

—

Things didn’t approve much after that.

He tried to dramatically lean against Beomgyu’s locker and accidentally smacked his elbow against the metal, making Beomgyu all wide-eyed and genuinely worried for him. Did not score points.

He offered to carry Beomgyu’s books once, and then dropped all of them in the hallway. A teacher had to help with yet another concerned Beomgyu. No points scored here either. 

He said “Good morning, sunshine” one day and Beomgyu thought he was talking to Soobin and giggled very hard, pushing Soobin towards Yeonjun and saying, “I don’t mind if you flirt with my brother!” with a very confused Soobin. 

He tried to brush Beomgyu’s hair out of his eyes. He got his fingers stuck in a tangle and had to awkwardly yank them out with Beomgyu giving him a weirded out face.

He wrote a poem. It rhymed cherry with very. Beomgyu thought it was a joke and laughed until he cried. No points here. 

At one point, Yeonjun cornered Taehyun behind the vending machines.

“I’m dying. He thinks I’m having a personality crisis!” He cries out. 

“You are.” Taehyun deadpans, sipping on his soda. 

“I’ve complimented his scent three times. Who does that?!”

“You, apparently.” Taehyun huffs. 

“I called him a peach smoothie yesterday.”

Taehyun’s face scrunches up. 

“You are so terrible at that. Remember when I said you had a better chance than me? I’m taking that back— you don’t.”

But the worst part?

Beomgyu… never once seemed truly weirded out.

If anything, he just smiled more. Laughed more. Nudged Yeonjun’s shoulder and kept showing up like nothing had changed. Like he liked having Yeonjun around. Like the flirting was just… normal. Like maybe, maybe—

Yeonjun groaned into his locker door the next morning.

“Is he ignoring the flirting?” he muttered.

Soobin walked past. “What flirting?”

Yeonjun turned to stone right then and there.

Soobin paused. Looked at him.

“Ohhh. That was flirting?”

Yeonjun slid to the floor.

Soobin gave him a sympathetic pat.

“Yikes. You know what, good luck— oh and, treat him right or I’ll go feral protective older brother mode on you, okay?”

—

Yeonjun groans. 

He has no idea what he’s going to wear to the school’s spring festival. Beomgyu was going to be there all flashy in his cherry red guitar, probably looking as amazing and beautiful as ever— and Yeonjun was gonna be stuck looking like a complete loser. (Not that he wasn’t one.) 

He’s pulling out his hair— the festival was tomorrow, and he only had a few hours to find something before his mom came up to force him to bed (like he was some little kid— goddamnit). 

He ends up throwing something together before wiggling into bed, wondering if he should just spend the night perfecting an outfit because no way was he going to the festival tomorrow and being around Beomgyu in something that wasn’t absolutely perfect. 

When he wakes up the next morning, it’s five minutes before he needs to catch the bus. Which means he’s late. Which means he needs to hurry the fuck up. 

He still desperately wants to impress Beomgyu— but it looked like he’d just have to do with the maybe okay-ish outfit he’d picked the day before; a light blue knit sweater and baggy jean-shorts. He contemplated spraying some of his dad’s cologne— but that was going way overboard. Plus, he barely had time to change, let alone try to go digging around for a cologne. 

Yeonjun took two minutes (and a half!) changing, then combed down his hair, brushed his teeth— and then he didn’t have time, so he was grabbing his bag and shoving his sneakers on (but only barely), waddling out the door while attempting to get his feet into the shoe. 

He manages not to be late to the bus stop. 

When he arrives at the school— it’s a complete different place. Colorful balloons bobble from the tree branches and from the school rooftops, streamers sprinkle all of the brick pathways and grass, and EDM music echoes through the air, muffled by the chatter of all the students; there’s no uniforms in sight, only cute outfits and a lot of phones up snapping pictures of literally everything. It’s a bit overwhelming, and Yeonjun really wants to find Beomgyu (or his friends— but preferably Beomgyu) fast. He really wouldn’t be here at all if not for his promise with the omega. The beautiful omega who was playing today— the beautiful rockstar omega Yeonjun was in the process of wooing (but wasn’t going so well). If all the flirt attempts thus far weren’t working… maybe it was time Yeonjun just said it as it is. (If he wouldn’t freeze up and become a coward when actually face to face with Choi Beomgyu.)

After a few pitiful chats with nearby students (he wants a hole to appear and swallow him already, my god), he figures out the Joker Cards are setting up by the main stage behind the school. Yeonjun hurries over, spotting Kai on the way and joining up with him (Kai teases Yeonjun about how much effort he put into his appearance— and no, he didn’t, he lies to Kai), and then they’re walking over to where Beomgyu was. And his friends too, yeah. 

The stage is big and black, with polished tiles and lights that were turned off with how bright the sun was, shining its own rays as spotlight for the band. All the band members were there. Beomgyu was there. And… 

Yeonjun stood there, paralyzed, transfixed on the dark-haired omega. 

Beomgyu was… Yeonjun’s breath hitched. He stood on the stage in a cherry-grunge t-shirt with jagged letterings and ripped black jeans with combat boots— and Yeonjun choked at the smudged eyeliner and how glossy and red his lips were, paired with the studded choker necklace and leather fingerless gloves.

Beomgyu looked stunning (when does he not)— and his hair framed his face, tickling his shoulders. He was gently strumming his elec guitar hanging off his frame, as a warm-up Yeonjun guessed. Heeseung stood beside him with a dark blue bass guitar, with Taehyun on the other side of Beomgyu with his keyboard, adjusting the mic attached onto it. Ni-ki stood in the back with his drums, spinning one of his sticks around. 

“Yeonjun— lover boy— you wanna stand here looking lovestruck and all dumb, or you wanna go sit down?” Kai teases.

Yeonjun flushes red. 

Chapter Text

Kai returned with two tall plastic cups, condensation already forming on the outsides. He plopped one into Yeonjun’s lap and flopped onto the grass beside him, sprawling out with all the confidence of someone not currently experiencing a slow and devastating crush. Like Yeonjun. (Not that he was of course.) (He totally was.)

“Strawberry lemonade,” Kai said, sipping his own. “You’re welcome.”

Yeonjun hummed in thanks but barely took a sip. His eyes were glued to the stage.

They’d found a spot on the grass, a little ways back from the crowd gathering in front of the stage, tucked between a tree and one of the art club booths. The sun was high and warm, but there was a breeze, and the shadows of the leaves danced over Yeonjun’s arms as he sat, elbows on knees, drink forgotten, watching Beomgyu strum chords like it was second nature.

He was laughing at something Taehyun said now. Head tipped back, hair falling, eyeliner smudged but not smudged enough to dull the edge. His lips were still red. Still glossy. Still unfair.

Yeonjun shifted.

“He’s just a guy,” Kai said suddenly, like he’d read Yeonjun’s mind. “Not a deity.”

Yeonjun blinked, face heating. “I— I know that.”

“Uh-huh.” Kai sipped again. “You’re staring like he descended from the heavens to bless us with his riffs and jawline.”

Yeonjun muttered something that was probably meant to be an insult, but it came out more like a dying breath.

And then—

Beomgyu looked over.

Yeonjun stopped breathing.

Their eyes met— brief, maybe two seconds— and Beomgyu smiled. Smiled. Not a big one, but a real one. Warm and crinkly at the corners. Like he was happy to see him. Happy to see him.

Yeonjun ducked his head so fast he nearly knocked his drink over.

“Oh my god,” he whispered into his lap.

Kai cackled beside him. “You’re so down bad.”

The warm-ups ended not long after, and then a voice crackled through the speakers: “Hello~! We’re the Joker Cards! Thanks for coming out today and we hope you enjoy our show!”

Applause rose instantly— cheers, whistles, students hooting from the back of the crowd— and then the music started. 

And Yeonjun’s brain promptly short-circuited.

The beat was fast, loud, the kind of pulsing rhythm that made your chest vibrate. Heeseung’s bass thudded deep, Taehyun's synth lines flew with ease, Ni-ki was killing it on drums, and Beomgyu—

Beomgyu was on fire.

His fingers moved like magic across the strings of his cherry red guitar, hair falling into his eyes as he sang into the mic with this breathy, textured voice that was so alive, so full of feeling. And when he looked at the crowd— when he smiled, tossed his head, shouted lyrics with his whole chest—

Yeonjun was doomed.

Beomgyu wasn’t just beautiful. He was magnetic. Bright and burning. The kind of person that made you forget how to sit still, made you want to run after something without knowing what.

Yeonjun barely noticed that he’d leaned forward, elbows on his knees again, drink resting in the grass at his feet, utterly transfixed.

Kai nudged him at one point with an eyebrow raise, but Yeonjun didn’t even look away.

The set was only four songs, but it felt both too short and too much at once. When they finished, the crowd screamed. Beomgyu grinned like his entire soul was shining through it. He threw his arms around Heeseung and bowed dramatically, then waved at the audience— eyes sweeping, laughing— and Yeonjun was already trying to stand. Already scanning for where they’d go after.

He needed to talk to him. Now. Before he chickened out. Before the high wore off and he forgot how to move. Before he chickened out about confessing his feelings because it was now or never (okay, not really, but it certainly felt like it) and then maybe he would get his heart broken sooner than later (though he hoped not). 

Kai followed, of course, tossing their cups in the trash and letting Yeonjun lead, even if Yeonjun had no idea where he was going. They circled around the back of the stage, weaving between booths and trees, and then— there, behind a folding screen near the stage truck— Beomgyu, toweling off his face, unhooking his guitar strap.

He looked up, surprised. Then he beamed.

“Yeonjun hyung! You came!”

Yeonjun’s mouth went dry. “Y—Yeah. Of course I did.”

Beomgyu stepped forward, still practically glowing from adrenaline, his eyeliner smudged further now with sweat, his cheeks pink, lips no longer glossy but still—

Still.

He was… Yeonjun swallowed nervously. 

“You saw our set?” Beomgyu asked, eyes shining.

“I— yeah,” Yeonjun said, then stronger, “Yeah. You were totally amazing.”

Beomgyu grinned. “Thanks! I totally messed up the second verse of Satellite though, did you catch it?”

“No,” Yeonjun said immediately. “I mean— maybe? I don’t think it mattered. You were still amazing.”

“You really think so?” Beomgyu’s smile softened, curling into something more bashful. “…I was hoping you’d be here. I’m glad you showed up. It means a lot.”

Yeonjun’s heart flipped.

This was it. This was his moment. He could feel the words rising in his throat, fighting their way out. I like you. I like you. Beomgyu, I—

“I— uh.” Yeonjun swallowed. “I wanted to say—”

Beomgyu tilted his head, curious.

Yeonjun’s fingers twitched at his sides.

“I just. I think you’re— um— your music. I really like it. A lot.”

Beomgyu smiled gently. “Thank you.”

“And you’re—” Yeonjun swallowed again, heart beating fast, voice climbing a little higher without his permission. “Really… cool. And talented. And I like that. About you.”

Beomgyu’s brows rose slightly, lips parting.

Yeonjun panicked.

“I mean— I like the band. Like. All of you. You’re good. Just— yeah. That.”

He wanted to fling himself into the nearest trash bin. God fucking goddamnit— 

Beomgyu didn’t look disappointed, not exactly. But… something shifted in his eyes. He did give Yeonjun a little laugh, light and amused, before nodding slowly.

“Well, that’s good to hear. I’m sure the others would appreciate hearing that.”

Kai appeared then, like a guardian angel— or a cruel god, depending on your view— and draped an arm across Yeonjun’s shoulders. “Hey, Gyu. Nice set.”

Beomgyu grinned. “Thanks, Kai.”

Yeonjun said nothing. Because Yeonjun was, quite literally, vibrating with the energy of what could have been.

—

Yeonjun was still trying to recover from the wreckage of his failed confession attempt when Beomgyu surprised him by saying, “I’ve got nothing else until cleanup duty later— mind if I hang with you guys?”

Kai raised a brow like he knew exactly what he was doing. “Sure. We were just gonna check out the booths.”

Beomgyu smiled and slung his guitar bag over one shoulder. “Cool. Let’s go.”

Yeonjun, meanwhile, was busy rebooting his entire brain.

Because. Because. Beomgyu could’ve gone anywhere. His band was probably waiting to celebrate with him. His classmates would’ve fawned over him like he was the reincarnation of rock royalty. And yet. Yet.

He was choosing to tag along with them. With Yeonjun.

He tried not to overthink it. He failed.

They started at the ring toss booth, where Kai promptly missed every shot and blamed the wind (“It’s rigged, bro— physics don’t work here”), while Beomgyu laughed so hard he had to lean against the stand for support. When Yeonjun took his turn, Beomgyu watched him closely, his expression soft, like he was genuinely interested in seeing whether or not Yeonjun could get a stupid plastic ring around a soda bottle neck.

He didn’t. Not even once.

Beomgyu gave him a slow clap anyway. “Flawless form. Incredible effort.”

“Shut up,” Yeonjun muttered, hiding a smile.

They moved to the DIY bracelet booth next, where Kai got distracted by free samples and wandered off with a half-eaten brownie. Beomgyu stayed behind, crouched next to Yeonjun at the little folding table under the tent.

Their shoulders brushed.

Yeonjun’s breath hitched.

“You know,” Beomgyu said, threading pink and black beads onto a string, “I kinda expected you not to show up today.”

Yeonjun looked up. “What? Why?”

Beomgyu shrugged, eyes fixed on his bracelet. “I dunno. You’re always busy. Or tired. Or avoiding me.”

“I don’t avoid you,” Yeonjun said quickly. Then, a beat later, “…Do I?”

Beomgyu glanced at him. “Not in a mean way. Just like… you’re always acting weird around me. I mean, I guess you kinda used to— and then you weren’t— and then you were kinda back at it and… you know.”

Yeonjun nearly dropped the entire bowl of beads. “I— uh. I mean. That’s not—” He coughed. “I’m not weird.”

Beomgyu smiled, eyes crinkling. “You’re a little weird.”

“Thanks,” Yeonjun muttered, which made Beomgyu laugh again— this time quieter, more to himself.

Then Beomgyu held up his bracelet; he’d made another one. “Look. I used your colors.”

Yeonjun blinked. “My what?”

Beomgyu grinned. “You wear blue a lot. So I made it blue and white. For you.”

Yeonjun stared at him, heart skipping. For you.

His bracelet was a mess of twisted colors and missed knots. He’d barely paid attention to his own hands. He’d been watching Beomgyu— his hair, his lashes, the curve of his fingers threading beads with ease— and now Beomgyu was looking at him like this was normal. Like making a bracelet in someone else’s “colors” was just a thing people did.

“Cool,” Yeonjun said faintly. “That’s. Cool.”

Beomgyu smiled again, but didn’t say anything else.

They wandered after that— caught up with Kai, who had somehow won a massive stuffed bear at a beanbag toss, and now insisted on naming it Captain Cheddar and giving it voices. Beomgyu walked between them, occasionally chiming in with some ridiculous line for Captain Cheddar like he’d known them both for years.

But it kept happening.

Little things.

Beomgyu standing close when they stopped at booths, brushing Yeonjun’s hand when they reached for the same snack sample. Beomgyu tugging Yeonjun by the sleeve toward a game he wanted to try. Beomgyu cheering when Yeonjun finally nailed a bullseye with a water gun and won a tiny plush cactus. (“You’re so talented, Jun. Wow. Can’t believe I get to witness this in person.”)

And Yeonjun— Yeonjun didn’t know what to do with himself.

Because it felt like something. It really did.

The way Beomgyu looked at him. How his eyes lingered a little too long. How he leaned in, like he wanted to be close. Like he wanted Yeonjun to notice.

But what if he was reading it wrong?

What if Beomgyu was just like this with everyone? Friendly. Flirty. Charming. He was a literal rockstar, for god’s sake. The popular kid. Maybe this was just how he existed.

And yet—

At the photo booth, Beomgyu leaned in close beside him while Kai took the first round of solo  shots. Yeonjun could smell his shampoo— something sweet and citrusy— and he could feel Beomgyu’s gaze even before he looked.

“Wanna take one with me?” Beomgyu asked, voice soft.

Yeonjun’s heart clattered around his ribs. “Yeah,” he said, before he could chicken out.

They took three.

The first was kind of normal. Standing side by side, small smiles. The second, Beomgyu threw up a peace sign and leaned in against Yeonjun’s shoulder. The third—

The third, Beomgyu waited until the camera started blinking, then grabbed Yeonjun’s wrist and held up the little blue-and-white bracelet between them, hands held together.

When the photo printed, Yeonjun stared at it for a long time. Beomgyu had the biggest smile in it. He looked… happy. Proud, almost. Yeonjun, meanwhile, looked completely overwhelmed.

“I want this one,” Beomgyu said, carefully tearing his copy free.

“Okay,” Yeonjun said, because there was nothing else to say.

Kai reappeared, chomping down on another snack and looking suspiciously smug.

Yeonjun just pocketed his photo strip and tried not to combust on the spot.

Maybe— maybe he wasn’t imagining things. Maybe there was something in Beomgyu’s smile. In the way he stood a little closer. Talked a little softer. Looked at Yeonjun like he was already something worth looking at.

Maybe Yeonjun just had to find the courage to try again.

To say it.

For real this time.

Chapter Text

It’s a few days later, after the festival, after a normal day of school, that Yeonjun finds himself heading to Soobin’s car. The other alpha had offered to drive both him and Beomgyu home because the weathery was getting really bad and Yeonjun hadn’t been sure buses would run in such terrible weather. He was eternally grateful to the sweet alpha— and plus (selfishly) this meant he’d get to see Beomgyu more. 

Yeonjun ducks into the back and Soobin into the driver’s seat— and Yeonjun’s surprised when Beomgyu scooches inside beside Yeonjun in the back, pressing himself close to Yeonjun’s side with a small laugh. 

“I’m kinda cold— mind if I stick close like this?” He asks. 

Soobin glances at them. 

“Oh I can—”

“Soobin hyung’s car heaters are broken,” Beomgyu interrupts with a cough. Soobin blinks, shakes his head and then nods.

“Oh yes. The heaters are broken, riiiight.” He gives Beomgyu a look. 

Yeonjun’s heart swells, and he nods. 

“Yeah, sure. Of course you can, Gyu.” The nickname slips out without meaning to, but Beomgyu didn’t seem all too shocked or affected by it. He just hummed, and leaned his head onto Yeonjun’s shoulder. Yeonjun might just combust right now. 

“This can be our omega corner,” Beomgyu giggles. 

Aaaand the guilt comes sinking in. Right. Fuck. He still hadn’t cleared things up with Beomgyu. That he was an alpha, not an omega. How could he forget?!

Soobin starts the car, checks everyone has their seatbelts on and secured, before starting to reverse out of the parking space and drive off. The rain starts to thunder down and the squeaking of the windshield wipers fill the otherwise silence.

Beomgyu soon breaks this silence by lifting his head and glancing at Yeonjun. Yeonjun meets Beomgyu’s eyes.

“I… Uhm, what do you think of like… same subgender relationships?” Beomgyu asks, his eyes locked with Yeonjun’s, before drifting off. 

Yeonjun stares at him. 

“Like… you know… alpha and alpha and… omega and omega ones.” The omega continues on, voice trailing off at the end. “Like… thoughts?” 

Yeonjun swallows.

His mind is doing somersaults.

Same subgender relationships.

Alpha and alpha. Omega and omega.

Thoughts?

Was Beomgyu asking him theoretically? Asking because he was curious? Asking because—?

Yeonjun’s heart does that thing where it stutters like it’s forgotten how to beat.

He opens his mouth.

Then closes it.

Then opens it again. “I think… they’re fine. I mean— good. Not just fine. Great.”

Smooth. So smooth. My god. 

Beomgyu looks at him, eyes wide and a little surprised. “…Yeah?”

Yeonjun nods, quickly. “Yeah. Like… there’s nothing wrong with them. Why would there be?”

Beomgyu gives a tiny shrug. “I dunno. People talk, sometimes.”

“Well, people are dumb,” Yeonjun says, a little too fast. “Like— why does it even matter what subgender someone is, if you like them? Right?”

He doesn’t mean to sound so breathless. Doesn’t mean to look at Beomgyu like he wants to memorize every little detail of him— his soft lips, the curve of his lashes, the way his sweater sleeves are pulled up just enough to show the pale of his wrist.

But Beomgyu’s smile is shy and a little crooked when he says, “Right.”

And for a second, the rain fades. The windshield wipers squeak in the background. The car hums under them. Beomgyu’s shoulder rests against his again.

And Yeonjun is filled with this strange, warm ache— like if he reached out just a little more, if he was brave just once, he could have everything he wanted.

But he still hasn’t told him. Not about being an alpha. Not about the lie he let stretch too long.

Beomgyu leans back again, head against the car window, eyes soft. “Hey…”

“Yeah?” Yeonjun says, turning.

“Would you wanna, like… stay over? Just for a bit?” Beomgyu says, voice low, like he doesn’t want Soobin to overhear even though the car is quiet enough for every syllable to feel private. “We could hang out or something. Just… I dunno.”

Yeonjun blinks.

“Hang out?”

“Yeah.” Beomgyu shrugs one shoulder. “Just for a little. If you want.”

Yeonjun’s stomach somersaults, but he nods. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Beomgyu beams, tugs his sleeve down like he’s suddenly nervous, and then rests his head lightly on Yeonjun’s shoulder again, more careful this time. “Cool.”

Soobin glances at them through the rearview mirror but says nothing. He just gives a knowing little hum and turns the wheel.

It doesn’t take long to reach Beomgyu’s house. It’s still as looming and majestic, and rich-vibes— but now that Yeonjun knew who lived there, between gentle Soobin and everything-in-the-universe Beomgyu, and their fun and friendly dad, it looked almost… cozy. 

But the moment Soobin pulls into the drive, the mood shifts.

There’s already a car parked there, one Yeonjun has never seen around. 

A sleek, black, glossy one. Shiny like it’s just been waxed. Like it doesn’t belong in the rain. Like it definitely doesn’t belong in Beomgyu’s driveway— too cold for the warmth that surrounds the house and all around it. 

Yeonjun doesn’t recognize it at all. But Soobin does. And so does Beomgyu.

Soobin’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Is that…?”

Beomgyu’s face has gone pale, all the warmth drained out of it like someone flipped a switch.

“Shit.”

“Do you want me to turn around?” Soobin asks quietly, eyes flicking to the backseat.

But Beomgyu shakes his head. “No. It’s fine. Just…”

He presses his lips together. Forces a small smile that doesn’t touch his eyes.

“Let’s go in. Meet her. She’s come over for once, so…”

Yeonjun looks between them, heart starting to thud again— but not in the good way.

Something is wrong.

And he’s about to find out what.

—

As soon as the three of them enter the house, Beomgyu and Soobin’s dad rushes over with a stony-face and ushers them over into the living room. It turns out, Beomgyu and Soobin’s mother was here. Beomgyu and Soobin don’t look happy to see her. 

She’s a tall lady with stark black hair that cascades down her lithe frame to her waist; her dark brown eyes are piercing, and her skin is a few tones too pale. Neat eyeliner and smoky eyeshadow decorate her face, along with dark red lipstick that makes her look even more dried out. She’s in a crisp black skirt and white blouse that look as if they’d restrict her breathing— how could she wear that with such a straight face? 

“Beomgyu,” she exhales. “You look so pale and sickly. What is wrong with your face?” 

Soobin and Beomgyu stiffen up and their dad looks a split second away from sighing, though he holds it in. 

“Is it, Mom?” Beomgyu shrugs. “Sorry—”

“Mother. I told you, address me formally as mother.” The woman— Minari, Yeonjun realizes— snaps. “Have you grown soft? Have the three years since I permanently left this house made you all so impolite?”  

“Mother,” Beomgyu corrects himself, face devoid of his usual yellow happiness and joy, posture stiff as he remains in the doorway with Soobin and his dad. Yeonjun opts to hide himself behind Beomgyu and Soobin. 

“Mother, why are you here?” Soobin asks. “I… I’m glad to see you after so long but… you never come over or ask us to come over to the city either… or even call.” He winces, though he tries to conceal it.

Minari clicks her tongue disapprovingly. 

“I am busy, Soobin. You know that. My company doesn’t run itself, does it now, hm? And I come with an offer that you will not be refusing, Beomgyu. As my only omega son, you will be coming with me over the weekend, to the city, and doing a modeling photoshoot with me, for the Gold Trim online magazine—”

“No.”

Minari narrows her eyes. 

“Excuse me?” She hisses. “Beomgyu, you do not get to—”

“No Mom, you don’t get to just barge into here— in my home— our home— after you just left us! You don’t get to intrude on our happy life that we made since you left— you don’t get to demand things like this and expect us to follow all your stupid orders like we’re your subjects!” The omega’s ears are red. “You’re, like, on your stupid throne as queen and news flash, mother! No one cares about your stupid company and your modeling business except those entitled fashion guys up at top! Okay?!” Beomgyu heaves out, chest falling up and down as he tries to breathe, but struggles. 

Minari stands up from her perch on the couch.

“Choi Beomgyu! How dare you talk to your mother like that!” She screams. 

“Mina, let’s just all calm down—” Hyun starts, but Minari grits her teeth.

“Beomgyu, you pack your things for the weekend and you follow me into the car right now.” She snarls. 

In response, Beomgyu whirls around and storms down the hall, and practically flies upstairs. Minari lets out an infuriated scream. 

Soobin and Hyun exchange glances. Then Soobin is gesturing for Yeonjun to go after Beomgyu.

Yeonjun hesitates for a split second, before rushing up. 

He finds Beomgyu sobbing on his bed, his frame trembling with every tear he let out. Yeonjun stands in the doorway, unsure of how he could help. He wanted to so bad but— how? 

He settles for gently sitting down beside Beomgyu’s frame and rubbing circle on Beomgyu’s back, sitting there quietly and offering silent comfort to the omega. His scent patch is still on, but rotten cherries and soured up ones start to filter through. 

Finally, Beomgyu raises his head. His eyes are swollen and red, and he sniffs. Yeonjun opens his arms and Beomgyu dives in without a moment of hesitation, curling up into Yeonjun’s chest. Yeonjun’s heart clenches as he wraps his arms around the omega who has suddenly becoming so small. So vurnerable. It’s the first time Yeonjun is seeing this side of Beomgyu. But he’s here for it— to hold Beomgyu together and be his silent support. 

Beomgyu’s breath hitches, but he seems to be settling down. 

“I hate her,” he mumbles. “That fucking witch returns and she just— she just demands I do some stupid modeling thing for her and she just— just expects me to follow all obediently? I just— fuck— I hate her so much.”

Yeonjun could already tell things weren’t very sunshine-y between Beomgyu and his mom. And he could also tell Minari wasn’t even half as nice as Hyun, nor as warm and fun to be around. She was… strict. A bit terrifying. Possibly a witch, like Beomgyu just pointed out. 

“Do you… not like modeling? Or just your mom in general?” Yeonjun asks gently. “You… You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” He adds on hastily.

Beomgyu shakes his head. 

“I can. It’s just… well, both, I guess. I hate her, and I hate modeling as an omega— like being presented as one. I hate being called an omega— being viewed as one— like that stupid stereotypical way of meek, submissive, soapy omegas who bend to everything and everyone and all of society like fragile paper dolls to be dressed up and flaunted everywhere. I just—” He breaks into another choked sob. 

Yeonjun continues to rub Beomgyu’s back, tucking the omega into the crook of his chest, to shelter him, protect him. It’s the first time Yeonjun feels remotely like an actual alpha— protective, angrily worried, wanting to care for and shelter the tiny thing in his arms right now— rage, protect, protect, anger, protect, rage. 

“She’s not gonna give up. I give her shit and she’s still gonna drag me off for the weekend. So… yeah. I guess see you Monday.” Beomgyu says quietly.

“I’m coming with you,” Yeonjun says. 

Beomgyu’s head snaps up, eyes wide. “…What?”

“I’m coming with,” Yeonjun repeats. “I’ll insist I won’t let you go unless she agrees to bring me along.” 

Beomgyu gapes at him. And then the yellow starts to seep back into him as he lets out a small laugh. 

“Okay.” 

—

It’s not as hard as Yeonjun had expected for him to get Minari to agree on taking Yeonjun along. She just rolls her eyes and nods. So then Yeonjun’s running through the rain to ask his mom (not that she would care much, nor would his dad if he even knew about it at all) and pack for the two days. His mom agrees all too easily— and for a moment he wonders why she doesn’t care all that much about her son just suddenly going off with a lady and her son to the city, miles away from here. His mom’s worry is always fleeting. 

Then he’s squished into the backseat of Minari’s car, with Beomgyu pressed closesly to him, seeking out his silent comfort and… protection, he realizes. 

The drive is silent— and Yeonjun’s a bit overwhelemed with how fast things are moving, suddenly speeding to the city like this, but at least he can protect Beomgyu. The omega ends up falling asleep, his head leaning on Yeonjun’s shoulder, figure slumped in clear exhaustion. Yeonjun also ends up falling asleep, head leaned over Beomgyu’s— and then he’s being rudely awakened by staff tugging him and Beomgyu out of the car and into a studio— and as he’s being rushed into the building, he sees the sky is pitch black. 

Beomgyu’s dressing room smells like hairspray, powdered foundation, and something sharp under the surface — like tension trapped in silk.

Yeonjun stands off to the side, trying not to get in the way of the stylists. Beomgyu is being seated, hair being half-curled, robe loose around his shoulders while someone applies shimmer to the curve of his cheekbone. Beomgyu looks just as overwhelmed as Yeonjun feels. 

“I look ridiculous,” Beomgyu mutters.

“You look beautiful,” Yeonjun says, too quickly. Then clears his throat. “I mean, you always do. But not in a weird way. Not that it would be weird if— anyway.”

Beomgyu smiles faintly. “You’re terrible at this.”

“I’m aware.”

Then the photographer walks in— tall, smirking, the type who’s a little too used to saying things he shouldn’t, Yeonjun could immediately tell. “Ah, Beomgyu. There’s my favorite omega,” he says, breezing forward like he owns the air.

Yeonjun’s posture stiffens.

The man reaches out and adjusts the hem of Beomgyu’s robe at the collar, fingers lingering too long near the curve of Beomgyu’s neck.

“You’ve got that soft look today. Very natural. Very pretty. We’re doing a more vulnerable angle this time— your mom requested it.”

Beomgyu flinches— subtly, but Yeonjun sees it.

And that’s when it happens.

Yeonjun steps forward.

One sharp move.

The room seems to chill.

“Hey,” Yeonjun says, voice low. Not loud. Just firm. A warning buried in velvet. “Hands off.”

The photographer blinks. “Oh— uh, sorry. I didn’t mean—”

Yeonjun’s still staring. He doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t have to.

The man awkwardly laughs it off and steps back.

And Yeonjun realizes, a second too late, that his body is tense, his jaw locked, and he growled. Barely audible. But real.

He immediately backs off, feigning a cough. “Sorry, dry throat.”

Beomgyu eyes him for a second. “You okay?”

Yeonjun forces a grin. “Peachy.”

The makeup session goes on. Then the photoshoot.

—

After the photoshoot ends, at nearly three in the morning, Yeonjun and Beomgyu sit in the back corner of a tiny noodle shop, chopsticks clicking against bowls. Beomgyu slurps quietly, then says: “That wasn’t very omega of you.”

Yeonjun freezes, noodle halfway to his mouth. “…What?”

“Earlier. When that photographer alpha touched me.”

Yeonjun swallows. “He was making you uncomfortable. Anyone would’ve said something.”

Beomgyu tilts his head, studying him. “But no one else did. Not even me.” He points out. 

Yeonjun tries to laugh. “Guess I’m just braver than I look.”

But Beomgyu isn’t smiling.

“You didn’t say anything. You moved— like you were going to rip his arm off.”

Yeonjun doesn’t answer. His hand curls around his cup.

Beomgyu leans forward. “What are you not telling me, hyung?”

The tension thickens— unspoken things hanging like fog between them.

Yeonjun’s smile slips, and for a second, he just looks tired.

“…Nothing,” he lies.

But Beomgyu is watching him too closely now. And it’s clear, the pieces are starting to fall into place.

Chapter Text

Yeonjun wakes to the muted light of a city morning creeping through half-shut curtains, soft and golden, pooling across the bedsheets like spilled tea. The hotel windows are large, and all the sunlight pours right inside. 

He turns his head— and there’s Beomgyu, on the other bed. He’s asleep still and curled on his side, hoodie half-pulled over his face, his messy hair fanned out over the hotel pillow like the aftermath of a restless dream. His lips are parted slightly, breath soft and even. There's something so oddly tender about it. Like Yeonjun shouldn't be seeing this.

Like he’s intruding on something private.

His chest tightens, inexplicably.

Something about waking up like this— just the two of them, tucked into opposite twin beds in a quiet hotel suite far from home— feels different. Feels heavier. It’s not really what friends do, is it? Sharing a single hotel room with just the two of them— waking up together? Maybe not on the same bed but… Yeonjun swallowed. 

The air is warm. Heavy in a way that Yeonjun can't quite name.

He drags a hand through his own hair and sits up with a sigh.

“Hey,” he says softly, throwing a pillow at Beomgyu’s bed. “Wake up, sleeping beauty. We’ve got a city to make questionable food choices in before your mom makes you pretty for the camera again.”

Beomgyu stirs with a low grumble and flips onto his stomach.

“Five more minutes. Or better yet— five more years.”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes— but he’s smiling. How could he not? Beomgyu was… well, he was everything. 

—

They wander the streets like they own them; coffees in hand, hoodies on, sunglasses half-slipped down their noses. They’re constantly laughing at nothing and everything.

But something’s… off. Subtle. Yeonjun has a gut-feeling of something… weird. 

Beomgyu’s cheeks are more flushed than usual. He’s rolling up his sleeves, tugging at the collar of his shirt like the spring breeze isn’t enough. His steps are lighter, looser— like he’s vibrating under his skin. His scent’s a little sweeter, too. Yeonjun tries not to notice.

They’re standing in line for a street cart— bungeoppang, Beomgyu’s favorite as Yeonjun had gotten to know— when Yeonjun catches it. That little tremble in Beomgyu’s fingers as he digs through his pockets for change. The way he swallows too tightly. The faint sheen of sweat on his temple despite the cool weather.

“You good?” Yeonjun asks, keeping it casual.

Beomgyu’s eyes flick up to his. Wide. Too fast. “Yeah. Fine. Just— just, um, tired from yesterday. Mom made me do, like, four outfit changes. In heels. You know?” He laughs but it sounds so forced. 

Yeonjun hums. Nods. Doesn’t push.

But the way Beomgyu’s eyes dart away— too quick, too careful— it’s the same way he lies when he’s trying to act normal. When he’s trying not to talk about something. And Beomgyu clearly was hiding something. 

They sit on a bench nearby, eating their freshly bought bungeoppang. Beomgyu tugs his hoodie tighter around himself, even though he said he was hot five minutes ago. Something is weird. Something is wrong. 

Yeonjun shifts slightly closer, as if drawn to him.

And there it is again— that spike in Beomgyu’s scent, like crushed cherries and warm spices. Barely noticeable, unless you're an alpha sitting too close. Which Yeonjun is. 

He pretends not to notice the way Beomgyu tenses beside him. Pretends not to notice how his heart kicks a little harder when their knees brush. Pretends he’s not already doing the math in his head and trying to figure out what was up with Beomgyu without seeming like he was trying to get in Beomgyu’s business, but he was worried—

The changes in temperature. 

The scent spikes. 

The shaking and jitteriness. 

Yeonjun clenched his jaws together. Fuck. 

Pre-heat.

Not in full yet, but close. Maybe a day or two. Maybe sooner, if the stress of the shoot pushes him over. And Beomgyu… he’s trying so hard to act normal. To joke around. To distract. To make Yeonjun laugh when he himself doesn’t feel like it either. 

Yeonjun presses the paper wrapper of his bungeoppang flat between his fingers.

He should say something. Should ask if Beomgyu has suppressants with him. Should offer to get him back to the hotel early. Should protect Beomgyu at this vurnerable moment of his. Should do something about this whole thing. 

But Beomgyu looks at him then— eyes bright, cheeks flushed, mouth twisted into that ridiculous grin— and Yeonjun finds himself saying:

“Wanna check out that rooftop garden before your shoot? I saw it on the way here.”

Beomgyu beams. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

Fuck— Yeonjun is so down bad, he can’t even ask Beomgyu to head back to their hotel room in fear of seeing the disappointment in the omega’s eyes. This was a serious situation— what was he doing?!

—

They arrive at the studio a few minutes early. It’s all polished floors and too-white walls, the sharp smell of lighting gel and foundation powder already clinging to the air. It doesn’t bring much sense of comfort to Yeonjun, and it probably doesn’t to Beomgyu either. 

Minari is mid-conversation with a stylist when she spots them and waves them in with a click of her heels. “You’re late,” she calls— though they aren’t. “Come, Beomgyu, we need to fix your hair. And skin. You look so blotchy.”

Beomgyu flinches, just barely.

Yeonjun sees it.

He’s been seeing all of it.

The subtle tremble in Beomgyu’s fingers as he unzips his hoodie. The way he winces when the draft hits his skin. The scent is stronger now— warmer, sweeter, almost dizzying up close. It lingers in the air like spilled syrup.

And worse— he's masking it. Beomgyu is working to keep himself together. Clenched jaw, tight smiles, too much forced laughter when the stylists joke with him. It’s subtle, but Yeonjun can tell all too well. He might be fooling everyone else, but he wasn’t fooling Yeonjun. 

He perches on a low stool in the corner of the studio, trying to stay unobtrusive, eyes tracking every movement like a hawk.

Beomgyu’s skin glows under the lights. He came out beautifully in all the shots yesterday— soft angles, clever eyes— but today there’s a shine to his forehead, a pink flush that makeup can't quite dull. His breathing is shallow between poses, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips more than usual.

When the photographer calls for a break, Beomgyu stumbles off the platform a little too fast.

Yeonjun is on his feet instantly. He intercepts him near the water table, grabbing a bottle and shoving it into his hand.

“Drink. Now.”

Beomgyu does, wordlessly. His hand trembles slightly around the cap. Up close, his scent is overwhelming— ripe, hazy, like he’s burning up from the inside out. This is not good. It is really not good. 

“Beomgyu…” Yeonjun says, quiet and careful. “You need to tell your mom you can’t keep going like this.”

Beomgyu laughs— but it cracks. “I’m fine. Seriously. I just— I didn’t sleep well, and I—”

“Stop.” Yeonjun’s voice is low but firm, not angry, but something in it makes Beomgyu go still. “Don’t do that. Don’t lie.”

A beat.

Beomgyu’s lashes flicker. His lower lip wobbles almost imperceptibly before he sucks in a breath and straightens. His frame is still trembling, and Yeonjun wants nothing more than to wrap the omega up in bubble wrap and take him away where he could properly rest. 

“I don’t want her to know,” he mumbles. “She’ll freak out. I can finish this. It’s just a couple more looks.”

Yeonjun looks at him with a pointed look, and then sighs when Beomgyu doesn’t budge. 

“I can’t help you if you won’t let me,” he says, barely above a whisper. His fingers twitch at his sides— wanting to touch, to comfort, but he can’t. Not when he’s still lying. Not when he’s still pretending to be someone safe. He’s not an alpha to Beomgyu— and he’s certainly not Beomgyu’s alpha. He doesn’t have any right to take care of Beomgyu in the way he wants to. 

Beomgyu just shakes his head. “I’ll be fine. Just… stay close, okay hyung?”

Yeonjun hesitates.

Then nods. “Always. I’ll be right here.”

—

Beomgyu is mid-pose when it finally starts to unravel.

He sways. Eyes blinking too fast. The photographer is calling his name, but he doesn’t seem to hear it at all. Yeonjun can see even from a distance that the omega was barely holding it together, hands shaking, lips trembling. 

Minari’s voice cuts through the buzz. “Beomgyu, hold still!”

He does— but only barely. But Yeonjun can see it now. The way his legs tremble. The flush spreading to his chest, blotching up his face in red. His hands now clenched tight behind his back to stop them from shaking.

Yeonjun rises to his feet like something inside him snaps.

If Beomgyu collapses, if he goes into full heat here, in front of all these people, surrounded by unfamiliar alphas and flashing lights—

He won’t let that happen.

He can’t.

Beomgyu sways again.

The photographer calls for a pose shift. “Hand on your hip, chin up—”

But Beomgyu’s legs buckle instead.

His knees give out like the strings holding him up have been snipped all at once. He doesn’t even make a sound as he goes down, just folds in on himself in slow, eerie silence, eyes wide and unfocused before they roll shut.

“Beomgyu—!”

Yeonjun’s voice tears out of his throat before he realizes he’s moving.

People shout. Minari’s heels click across the floor. The photographer lowers his camera in alarm.

But Yeonjun’s already there— dropping to his knees on the glossy platform, hands catching Beomgyu’s limp shoulders and dragging him up into his chest before he can even think.

“Beomgyu,” he breathes, cradling him close. “Hey. Gyu. Come on. Open your eyes.”

His scent is thick now— cloying with the unmistakable haze of heat on the edge. His hoodie’s soaked through with sweat, strands of hair plastered to his forehead. And even unconscious, his body is trembling— shaking like he’s freezing from the inside out.

Yeonjun brushes a hand down the back of his neck— too hot, his skin burning. He clenches his jaw.

“Just after I worried that you would,” he mutters, his voice rough with frustration. “You really had to go and pass out on me, huh?”

He exhales shakily, pressing his forehead against Beomgyu’s damp temple.

“Could’ve told me. Could’ve let me help. But no. You had to be brave.”

He doesn’t care anymore who’s staring. Doesn’t care about the stylists whispering or the photographer looking frozen in place.

Minari rushes over. “What happened?! He was fine—”

“He’s not fine,” Yeonjun snaps. His voice isn’t loud, but it cuts like a blade. “He hasn’t been fine. He’s been burning up all morning and trying to act like he’s not about to go into heat in the middle of your shoot.”

Minari stares at him, eyes narrowed now. “Heat—? But he said—”

“He didn’t say anything,” Yeonjun growls. “Because he didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Beomgyu stirs weakly in his arms, eyelashes fluttering. A faint whimper escapes his lips. Yeonjun tightens his hold around him instinctively, cupping the back of his head.

“Shh. I’ve got you. It’s okay.”

And for the first time in hours— maybe days— he lets himself breathe. He’s an alpha— even if Beomgyu doesn’t know that yet. 

“I’ve got you,” he repeats, quieter this time. “You’re not doing this alone.”

Chapter Text

The door clicks shut behind them with a muffled finality.

Yeonjun half-carries, half-guides Beomgyu to the hotel bed, easing him down with slow, careful movements. Beomgyu’s face is flushed deep pink, shirt sticking to his skin, breath shallow and fast like he can’t catch it. His eyes barely stay open, but even half-conscious, his body leans toward Yeonjun like gravity knows something he doesn’t.

Yeonjun swallows hard.

“Okay, lie down— just like that,” he murmurs, easing the pillow under Beomgyu’s head. “I’ll be right back.”

He rushes into the bathroom, soaks a small towel in cold water, wrings it out, and returns to Beomgyu’s side, heart thudding with each step. The room is too quiet. The air is too thick. And Beomgyu— his scent is blooming like a sunrise, warm and syrupy and so undeniably omega it makes Yeonjun’s chest ache.

He crouches beside the bed and gently presses the towel to Beomgyu’s forehead.

“You’re burning up,” he says softly, more to himself than anything.

Beomgyu lets out a tiny whimper at the touch— somewhere between relief and need.

Yeonjun freezes.

Then he keeps going, slowly wiping the sweat from Beomgyu’s cheeks, down his neck, around the trembling curve of his collarbone. Beomgyu arches slightly toward the cloth, like it soothes something deep in him.

“You didn’t even bring suppressants,” Yeonjun mutters, eyes flickering to Beomgyu’s face. “You’re such an idiot.”

Beomgyu stirs then, eyes fluttering open just a sliver. His voice is slurred and shaky. “’m not… an idiot. Just… didn’t think it’d come early.”

Yeonjun huffs a humorless breath. “It did.”

Beomgyu nods faintly, and his lashes flutter closed again. “Smells like you…”

Yeonjun freezes. “What?”

“Smell nice,” Beomgyu mumbles. “Always do.”

Yeonjun sits back slowly. His hands curl into fists in his lap. His heart beats so loud it’s like it’s echoing in his throat.

Beomgyu’s omega instincts are picking up on him— the scent blockers must be wearing thin. And now, with the heat truly settling into his bones, his body is seeking out comfort. Familiarity. An alpha.

Yeonjun knows what’s coming before it happens.

Beomgyu shifts restlessly on the bed, rolling onto his side, one hand reaching out like he’s searching for something— someone. His scent spikes again, dizzyingly sweet, and his voice breaks as he whispers, barely audible, “Don’t go…”

Yeonjun’s stomach drops. He’s still kneeling by the bed, rooted in place.

Beomgyu’s eyes crack open, glazed and dazed. “Can you… stay? Please?”

Yeonjun’s breath catches. His hand grips the edge of the mattress like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

“I—” His voice dies in his throat.

Beomgyu is looking at him with so much trust. So much need. But it’s not entirely him right now— it’s his heat talking, his body reacting on instinct, not consent. And worse— he still thinks Yeonjun’s an omega, even though his inner omega is recognizing Yeonjun’s alpha and being drawn to it. 

“I want you,” Beomgyu whispers, cheeks flushed, eyes flickering closed again. “Need you close. You feel safe.”

Yeonjun’s heart shatters.

Because he knows, deep down, that it’s not just the friendship making Beomgyu reach for him like this— it’s his omega instincts responding to the truth Yeonjun’s been hiding.

The truth he can’t let slip now.

He presses a hand over his own mouth, breathing hard through his nose, staring at Beomgyu like he’s something made of gold and glass.

“I’m here,” he whispers shakily. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

But he doesn’t lie down beside him. He doesn’t touch him again.

Instead, he drags the armchair closer to the bed and sinks into it, fists clenched in his lap, eyes locked on Beomgyu’s restless form.

His scent coils thick and sweet in the air.

And Yeonjun sits there, motionless, hurting, wanting— unable to move.

Because he’s an alpha.

And Beomgyu doesn’t know.

And he can’t take advantage of that.

Not even if it’s killing him.

—

The hotel room has grown unbearably warm.

Yeonjun sits rigid in the chair next to the bed, hands curled into fists against his thighs, as the only sound between them is the ticking of the wall clock and Beomgyu’s shallow, erratic breathing.

The scent in the room is suffocating now.

It clings to Yeonjun’s clothes, soaks into his lungs with every inhale— pure omega in heat. Sticky-sweet and desperate. Like sugar melting too long on a stove, turning into something dangerous. Something you can’t ignore.

Beomgyu is curled beneath the sheets, writhing softly against the mattress. He’s barely lucid now— his face flushed bright pink, lips parted, skin damp with sweat. He keeps pushing the covers off only to pull them back again, searching for relief that never comes.

Yeonjun swallows hard. He’s already peeled his hoodie off, trying to cool down, but nothing helps. His alpha instincts are howling. Every second he stays in the room feels like walking a tightrope above a fire.

He can’t do this.

He can’t stay.

He stands suddenly, scraping the chair back, breathing fast. “I need to get some air.”

Beomgyu stirs at the sound. Blinks blearily up at him. “You’re leaving?”

His voice is cracked and small and cuts Yeonjun right down the middle.

“I— only for a second,” Yeonjun says. “I just need to cool down. I’ll be right b—”

“No.” Beomgyu shifts up onto his elbows. His voice shakes, but his eyes are suddenly wide, scared. “Don’t go. Please, Yeonjun— please don’t leave me.”

Yeonjun’s chest caves in.

“You’re not thinking clearly,” he says, trying to keep his voice calm. Gentle. “This isn’t really you talking, Beomgyu. It’s your heat. You don’t want—”

“I do,” Beomgyu chokes. His body trembles. “I— I want you with me. I need—” His fingers claw at the sheets like he’s holding back a wave. “It— It hurts.”

Yeonjun’s hands tremble at his sides.

Every instinct inside him screams to go to Beomgyu. To comfort. To protect. To hold.

But he can’t. Not like this.

Not when he’s lying about who he is.

Not when Beomgyu is aching for the presence of an alpha and doesn’t know Yeonjun is one.

Beomgyu suddenly sits up— barely. Reaches out. His fingers catch Yeonjun’s wrist. “Just— lie down. You don’t have to do anything. Just be close. Please.”

“Beomgyu—”

“I trust you.”

Yeonjun’s breath stutters.

That’s the part that breaks him.

Not the scent. Not the soft pleading. Not even the desperate, heat-heavy tremble in Beomgyu’s voice. It’s the trust.

And so Yeonjun folds. He shouldn’t but— god— he’s so stupid for Beomgyu. 

Slowly, like he’s lowering himself into a fire, he steps closer and perches on the edge of the bed. Beomgyu immediately reaches out again, tugging weakly at his hoodie sleeve, trying to pull him closer.

“Okay,” Yeonjun whispers. “I’m here. But we’re not doing anything, okay? Just rest.”

Beomgyu nods frantically, lashes fluttering.

So Yeonjun carefully lies down beside him— on top of the covers, body stiff as stone, arms folded tightly across his chest like restraint can keep him in check.

Beomgyu immediately presses into his side.

His body finds Yeonjun’s like he’s drawn to him. His forehead presses into Yeonjun’s shoulder. One hand curls loosely into the front of Yeonjun’s shirt.

His breath hitches. Soft. Shaky. Then steadies.

Like he’s finally found the one place he can breathe.

Yeonjun just lies there, unmoving, every muscle locked in place.

His pulse hammers in his ears. The scent is overwhelming now, Beomgyu’s heat clinging to him like a second skin.

But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t touch.

He lies there and lets the omega cling to him, lets Beomgyu’s body find comfort in his presence, and swears— swears— he won’t give in.

Not until Beomgyu knows the truth. Not until he can say yes with a clear mind. Not until Yeonjun is someone safe.

He turns his head slightly. Watches Beomgyu sigh softly in sleep, mouth parted, cheeks still warm.

“God,” Yeonjun whispers, eyes burning. “I’m so sorry.”

— —

BEOMGYU 🧸

Everything is warm. Too warm. 

His skin, the sheets, the air. His bones feel heavy, like he’s sinking into something soft and endless. He’s half-awake, half-dreaming, wrapped in a thick cocoon of scent and sensation and need.

And he’s here.

Yeonjun.

Beomgyu can feel the weight of him just inches away— solid and unmoving, lying stiffly beside him like a statue made of restraint. But his scent… his scent is so close. And it’s so good. Oceans and coconuts— soothing. 

Beomgyu breathes it in like oxygen. It’s the only thing keeping him tethered to his own body.

Yeonjun’s scent isn’t like other omegas. It never has been. It’s deeper. Sharper. Something that makes Beomgyu’s instincts ache in a way he’s never understood. It shouldn’t affect him like this— shouldn’t make his gut twist and his skin burn— but it does. And now, with his heat crawling up his spine like fire, his body is responding without permission.

He turns his head against Yeonjun’s shoulder. Just barely.

Breathes him in.

Yeonjun flinches.

Beomgyu doesn’t know why that makes something in his chest hurt.

Why does Yeonjun feel so far away, even though he’s right here?

He shifts closer— just a little. His fingers curl into Yeonjun’s hoodie like a lifeline. He presses his nose against the fabric and breathes deeper. A low, broken sound escapes his throat before he can stop it.

Want.

That’s the word that loops through his brain like a prayer. A mantra.

Want want want want want—

But why?

They’re best friends. He’s always liked Yeonjun, been slowly falling— but not like this. Not this desperate ache in his stomach, not this fluttering heat beneath his skin, not this instinctive pull like his body is trying to fold itself around him.

He doesn’t understand it.

He doesn’t want to feel it— he just does.

His thighs rub together. Everything hurts in a way that isn’t pain, just pressure and craving and tension with nowhere to go. His heart won’t stop racing. His mouth is dry. And every time Yeonjun shifts or breathes or so much as exists, it sends a ripple down Beomgyu’s spine.

“Yeonjun,” he whispers.

Yeonjun doesn’t respond. But Beomgyu feels the sharp intake of breath. Feels the way his body tenses.

Beomgyu turns fully onto his side, facing him. He can barely keep his eyes open, but he reaches out— trailing trembling fingers up Yeonjun’s chest, fingertips brushing the line of his jaw.

“I don’t…” he whispers, voice rough, broken. “I don’t get it. I don’t know why it has to be you.”

Yeonjun finally turns to face him. His eyes are wide, full of emotion Beomgyu doesn’t recognize.

“You’re not thinking straight,” Yeonjun says softly, but there’s a shake in his voice.

Beomgyu frowns. “But it’s you, Yeonjun. I want you close. I want—” He swallows, eyes fluttering. “Please just tell me why.”

He presses his forehead to Yeonjun’s shoulder. His whole body is trembling again. “Why do I feel like this around you? What’s wrong with me?”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then Yeonjun says, almost inaudibly:

“There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Beomgyu doesn’t know it, but Yeonjun is falling apart beside him. Fighting every instinct that tells him to hold Beomgyu, kiss his forehead, scent-mark his skin, make it all better.

But Yeonjun doesn’t move.

And Beomgyu, dizzy with heat, clings to the only thing that feels safe in the burning: the body beside him, and the scent that somehow feels like home.

The heat surged through Beomgyu like a wildfire trapped beneath his skin, relentless and consuming. Every breath felt heavy, every movement draining. His body trembled, caught in a storm he couldn’t control.

Yet, despite the overwhelming haze, there was one constant— Yeonjun. Lying stiff and tense beside him, close enough that the faintest shift sent a ripple through the charged air between them.

Beomgyu’s senses, sharpened and raw from the heat, caught a scent that was different from any he had ever known from Yeonjun before. It was deeper, stronger— muskier in a way that stirred something instinctual, something buried deep within.

His breath hitched as the realization settled like a weight in his chest. Oh. Yeonjun was an alpha.

The word didn’t need to be spoken aloud; his body knew it instinctively.

That scent, that presence— it anchored the chaotic fire inside Beomgyu. The unbearable pressure, the relentless craving, eased just enough to give him a fleeting moment of clarity.

Wide-eyed and trembling, Beomgyu reached out instinctively, fingertips brushing lightly against Yeonjun’s arm.

“Yeonjun,” he whispered, voice fragile with uncertainty and need.

Yeonjun’s body stiffened under his touch, and his gaze flickered away, shadows passing over his expression.

“…You’re an alpha,” Beomgyu confessed quietly, the admission barely more than a breath, yet heavy with meaning. Yeonjun’s eyes widened. 

This explained a lot. 

And then Beomgyu’s eyes fluttered shut. 

Chapter Text

BEOMGYU 🧸

The room was quiet again.

Not like earlier, when it was stifling and thick with tension and body heat. Now the silence felt calmer— gentler. A lull between waves. Just a peaceful in between all the other things. 

Beomgyu blinked his eyes open slowly. His body still ached, his skin still too warm, but the worst of the dizzying desperation had passed for now. The heat was still there, simmering just under the surface, but his head was clearer— his thoughts his own again. All the cloudiness was gone for a few moments, letting him catch his breath and feel like himself again— until his heat dragged him back under. 

Yeonjun was sitting on the edge of the bed, half-turned away, his arms resting on his knees. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all. His eyes were rimmed red, his knuckles pale from clenching too long. Oh dear. 

“Hey,” Beomgyu rasped, voice hoarse from exhaustion and overuse.

Yeonjun turned quickly, eyes wide— relief flashing through them so fast and sharp it made Beomgyu’s heart twist. This was Yeonjun— this shy, quiet boy Beomgyu had met and befriended, this guy who’s eyes shone around Beomgyu and displayed such caring, thoughtfulness— this guy Beomgyu liked so much, but wasn’t sure if this was going to turn out to be a Taehyun situation 2.0. 

“You’re awake,” Yeonjun said softly. “How’re you feeling?”

“Tired,” Beomgyu admitted, shifting slightly on the mattress. “Still hot. But… better. For now.”

Yeonjun nodded. “That’s good.”

Beomgyu stared at him for a moment. “You… didn’t leave.” He says after a moment. 

“I told you I wouldn’t.” Yeonjun smiles. “So…” He swallows. “About earlier…?” 

“You’re really an alpha,” Beomgyu said, not accusing, just… quietly. Still stunned by the memory of it. How could he have not known before?! How didn’t he connect the dots? Okay well, for the record, Yeonjun didn’t really show any signs of being alpha-like, not any of that aggressiveness or pride but… of course, there were omegas like Beomgyu so obviously there were alphas like Yeonjun. Those who broke the stereotypical traits. Of course, Beomgyu of all people shouldn’t be so quick to judge on things like that but— seriously, how had he not known before? Why was it that it took a literal heat to figure it out? 

Yeonjun looked down, jaw working before he finally nodded.

“…Yeah.”

“I thought you were an omega.” Beomgyu says. “I really just assumed— and I’m sorry.”

“No, I didn’t correct you or Taehyun when you two assumed, and then I didn’t confess it even later. I told Taehyun though, earlier, and… I was wondering how I could break it to you.” A beat passed. “I didn’t want to be treated differently— I thought you hated alphas and I thought we wouldn’t be friends anymore if you knew I sorta lied. I… didn’t want to be… dangerous.”

Beomgyu’s brows drew together. “You’re not dangerous.”

Yeonjun huffed a quiet, disbelieving sound.

“Beomgyu. A heat-hazed omega clinging to me while I’m lying about what I am? When I’m actually an alpha, but you didn’t know the fact? That’s not dangerous to you?”

“You didn’t touch me,” Beomgyu murmured. “You could have, but you didn’t. You controlled yourself and stopped me from doing anything onto you.”

Yeonjun’s eyes flickered to him, raw and open. “I wanted to. Not like— like that, of course! But… to hold you. To make it stop hurting. I hated just sitting here doing nothing.”

Beomgyu swallowed. “You didn’t do nothing.”

Yeonjun was quiet for a long time. Then, finally, he said, “I should’ve told you. I was scared. But you… you’re the last person I ever wanted to lie to.”

Beomgyu studied him. His gaze was soft now, too tired to be angry. “Well, I guess I know now. That’s what matters, yeah? And you wouldn’t lose me. Why would you lose me as a friend?”

Yeonjun hesitated. Then said, quietly, “Not just as a friend…”

Beomgyu blinked. “What?” 

“I… I’m in love with you.” Yeonjun confesses, eyes on his lap. 

Beomgyu stilled.

Yeonjun continued to stare at his hands. “And if I told you I was an alpha… I thought you’d be afraid of me. Or think I wanted you for the wrong reasons. Or that I was just waiting for your next heat or something— that you wouldn’t want to be with me.”

The silence that followed felt delicate, like a breath held too long.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Beomgyu said at last. “And I don’t think any of that.”

Yeonjun finally looked at him.

Beomgyu met his gaze, tired but certain. “You stayed. You took care of me. Even when I wanted more, you didn’t take advantage of me. You were scared for me, not of me.”

Yeonjun exhaled slowly, like he’d been holding that breath all night.

Beomgyu reached out a hand— slowly, gently— and laced his fingers with Yeonjun’s.

“I don’t know what this heat is doing to me,” he murmured, voice shaky. “But I know I wanted you. Not just any alpha. You. That has to mean something. You’re the first alpha— besides Soobin hyung of course— I fully trust. That I genuinely care for. That’s not some arrogant asshole who wants to sleep with me.”

Yeonjun squeezed his hand. “Thank you. It means everything.”

Beomgyu gave a soft, exhausted smile. “Can you stay?”

Yeonjun didn’t hesitate. He grinned. 

“Always.”

The rest of Beomgyu’s heat crested slowly, not as violent as before but still difficult. His body throbbed with lingering need, his temperature spiked unpredictably, and there were nights he couldn’t sleep without trembling.

But Yeonjun stayed.

He held him when the heat got bad. Whispered steady reassurances. Pressed cold cloths to his forehead and stroked his hair until Beomgyu melted into him.

And when Beomgyu curled into his arms, flushed and fragile, Yeonjun let him.

They didn’t kiss. They didn’t go further.

But Yeonjun wrapped himself around him, tucked Beomgyu’s face into the crook of his neck, and whispered, “I’ve got you.”

And Beomgyu believed him.

Not because of instincts.

But because it was Yeonjun.

—

Beomgyu was asleep.

Really asleep this time. Peacefully, not from exhaustion or heat or delirium, but just… actual rest. Which was really good, considering what he had been going through for the past five days. His breath was slow and even, lips parted slightly, hair stuck to his forehead in dried curls from sweat and the occasional damp cloth Yeonjun had used to cool him down.

The room was still dim, early morning light leaking through the curtains. The quiet buzz of the city felt a thousand miles away. Thankfully, Minari didn’t come to bother them. No one had. 

Yeonjun sat beside the (beautiful) omega, legs tucked up on the bed, just watching. He hadn’t meant to stay awake, but sleep had never come. Not really.

He didn’t know what this morning would mean.

Beomgyu had wanted him during the heat —  but that had been instinct. Biology. Desperation. Want wrapped in fever and confusion. What if now, in the clear light of day, Beomgyu didn’t want him anymore? Not as Yeonjun, at least? 

What if that trust, that closeness, had only existed because of need, not because of love?

Yeonjun rubbed a tired hand over his face. He hated feeling like this. Uncertain. Unsteady. Like the moment was holding its breath. This anxiety thrumming under his skin and poking at his heart, as his brain too. 

He looked down at Beomgyu again, just in time to see his eyelashes flutter. His brows drew slightly, and he let out a groggy breath before slowly blinking awake.

Yeonjun straightened, trying not to look too tense. “Hey.” He tried to sound casual. 

Beomgyu blinked at him, slow and sleepy. “Oh. You’re still here?”

“Of course I am,” Yeonjun said, voice soft. 

Why would I go anywhere, Beomgyu? 

A pause passed between them.

Beomgyu shifted under the covers, testing his limbs. “I think it’s over. The heat, I mean.”

Yeonjun nodded. “Yeah. You’ve been asleep for a few hours.”

Beomgyu was quiet for a moment longer, then turned his head to look at Yeonjun fully. His eyes were clearer now — sharp, but not cold.

“Did I… say anything stupid?” he asked.

Yeonjun gave a soft breath of laughter. “Not really. Just… raw things. Honest things.”

The fact that Beomgyu didn’t think of him as a scary alpha or a bad one… it meant so much. 

Beomgyu studied him. “And did you mean the things you said?”

Yeonjun stilled. His heart thudded once, loud in his ears. So he did remember.

“Yeah. Every word.”

Beomgyu didn’t look away. His eyes were locked right into Yeonjun’s, glinting dark brown and hazel in the morning sunlight, so full of yellow brightness. 

“You said you’re in love with me.”

Yeonjun’s throat tightened. “I did.”

A quiet beat.

“And I still am,” he added, voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t say it because you were in heat, so please don’t think it was just a matter of trying to comfort you. I said it because it’s been true for a long time— since I first met you. I just… slowly kept falling in love. And I just… I didn’t know if I was allowed to say it.”

Beomgyu’s expression softened, something warm flickering in his eyes.

“I think I wanted to hear it,” he murmured.

Yeonjun blinked. “You…?”

“I think I’ve wanted you for a while,” Beomgyu said, a little more certain now. “I just didn’t know that’s what it was. I thought it was comfort. Or safety. But it wasn’t just that. It’s you. It’s always been you. Ever since I met you… I started to find comfort in you. Oof, this is cheesy. But yeah.”

Yeonjun’s breath caught in his chest.

Beomgyu shifted closer under the blankets, reaching out one sleep-heavy hand to grab Yeonjun’s. Their fingers laced easily.

“I meant it,” Beomgyu said. “When I said I trusted you. Even in the worst of it. Especially then.”

Yeonjun squeezed his hand gently, unable to speak.

“You didn’t take advantage,” Beomgyu said. “You could’ve. I begged you to. And you didn’t.”

“Because I love you,” Yeonjun whispered. “And I want you when you want me, not when your body tricks you into thinking you do.”

Beomgyu smiled, slow and soft. “Then you should kiss me now.”

Yeonjun blinked. “What?”

Beomgyu scooted a little closer, eyes heavy-lidded but clear. “I’m not delirious anymore. I’m not heat-crazy. I’m just me. And I’m asking you to kiss me.”

Yeonjun let out a stunned, breathless laugh. “You sure?”

“I’m sure,” Beomgyu murmured. “I want you, Yeonjun. I like you too, idiot face.”

So Yeonjun leaned in.

And this time—

no fever, no fog, no heat. 

It was just them.

Best friends.

Lovers.

Safe.

When their lips met, it was soft and slow. 

It was real.

And Yeonjun knew— whatever came next, they’d already survived the fire. Now they got to build something out of the ash.

—

Beomgyu and Yeonjun take the next train back to their town, and Minari is obviously furious Beomgyu left her due to his heat, and then left before she could drag him back to make him do the photoshoots he missed. Beomgyu giggles, seated close next to Yeonjun on the train seat, hands intertwined with Yeonjun’s.

It feels so foreign to finally have what he’d been wistfully dreaming of— but also it’s making him so giddy at the fact he confessed— how did he even do it?— and Beomgyu actually liked him back and then they kissed—

Oh god.

They kissed. 

So… 

“This is gonna sound so stupid of me and very cliche but… what are we now?” Yeonjun glances shyly at Beomgyu. The omega blinks and then leans his head on Yeonjun’s shoulder.

“Hm,” he says slowly. “Well, boyfriends, I guess? Unless you intend on putting a ring on it, and get things rolling even faster?” He teases.

“Boyfriends sounds good,” Yeonjun chuckles. “I… I can’t believe we’re dating now, then. I just… I liked you, and then I was in denial, and then I realized it and was going insane over you and now I… we’re… oh my god.” 

Beomgyu laughs. 

“Aw, you’re so cute, Jun hyung!” He says, eyes turning from teasing to fond. “I’m glad you’re not like those asshole alphas… or like my ex boyfriend.” 

“You had an ex?!” 

Beomgyu nods. “Mhm. ‘Course I did. A few, actually.”

Yeonjun gapes, then closes his mouth. 

Of course it’s not surprising— Beomgyu is the popular guy of the school.

Beomgyu sighs. “Okay, so in middle school, I had a beta boyfriend, Wonmin— he broke up with me after a month because I was taking over the spotlight or something, and then I had an alpha girlfriend who we both decided we were better off seperate after six months— and then I had this alpha boyfriend for a year that I broke up with because I realized he was such a traditional motherfucker who wanted to sleep with me every day and like breed me or some weird shit. And so I kinda just stopped dating or being interested in people romantically.”

Yeonjun grimaces. 

“Ew. That sounds like a shitty alpha.” 

“He absolutely was. I’m glad I broke up with him— and then he had to move to the States because of his dad’s job, so then I didn’t have to see him in school ever again.” Beomgyu shakes his head. “He was so nice when he first confessed and we started dating… and then he changed, and I realized he was actually a psycho.” 

“Well… I like to think I’m none of those things.” Yeonjun says quietly.

“You aren’t.” Beomgyu says full-heartedly. “You’re very sweet— and you genuinely care about me and take care of him even when no one asks you to, and you don’t put down my opinions or treat me differently or like that stereotypical image of an omega— you just treat me as Choi Beomgyu, and honestly, that’s all I could ask. So… that’s why you’re my boyfriend, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Yeonjun beams. 

Chapter Text

The familiar crunch of gravel under their sneakers signaled their return long before they opened the gate. Beomgyu let out a soft sigh, probably taking in the sight of their neighborhood— quiet, tucked under a navy sky, sleepy porch lights casting golden halos onto the sidewalk. The air was cooler here, calmer. Home. It relieved Yeonjun too, to be back home like this— somewhere familiar. Somewhere, where he knew how to protect Beomgyu better. 

Yeonjun yawned as they walked up the front steps. He’d been so alert the ride over here in case something happened, to protect Beomgyu— his boyfriend— oh my goddness— but now that they were back home, sleep was showering over him. 

“You sure your dad won’t mind me crashing?” He asks. 

“He likes you better than me,” Beomgyu jokes, punching in the door code.

The door creaked open just as they stepped in— and there was Hyun, standing in the entryway in pajama pants and a worn t-shirt, smiling like he’d been waiting for them.

“There you two are,” he said. “I was about to go to bed. Soobin’s already in bed though, and he wanted to stay up to greet you guys after hearing you were returning, but then he ended up passing out.” He laughs. 

“Sounds like him. Sorry, I know it’s late,” Beomgyu said as he slipped off his shoes. “The train was slow.”

Hyun stepped forward and ruffled Beomgyu’s hair affectionately before turning to Yeonjun with a small nod. “Staying over tonight?”

Yeonjun rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes. I mean… if it’s okay with you, of course. My parents probably haven’t even noticed I was gone.”

“Of course! You know you’re always welcome here.” Hyun says warmly. 

Beomgyu sat on the edge of the entry bench and started unlacing his shoes. “Appa, everything went fine. The shoot was a little exhausting but I didn’t mess up or cry in public this time, so—”

Hyun’s brows raised. “This time?”

Beomgyu scowled. “Anyway, I… I had a heat. In the city, just so you know. It’s not a big deal, but I thought you should know… so yeah.”

Hyun’s face fell. “Oh no, Bear. A heat in the city? No nest?”

“It was okay, Appa, really.” Beomgyu looked up quickly. “Yeonjun stayed with me— like just cuddling and wiping my sweat off and protecting me!” he added with wide eyes, practically waving his hands like punctuation marks.

Yeonjun blinked, caught off guard, ears flushing.

Hyun narrowed his eyes at the two of them. There was a beat of suspicious silence.

Then he chuckled, shaking his head with that same warm, teasing tone he always used.

“Oh, I know you won’t be fooling around any time soon. You’re still a baby,” he said, ruffling Beomgyu’s hair again.

Beomgyu groaned. “Okay, goodnight Appa. See you in the morning,” he muttered, grabbing Yeonjun by the sleeve and dragging him upstairs before more babying could happen.

—

Once inside his room, Beomgyu toed the door shut behind them. His room still smelled like cherries— and it was exactly how it was the last time Yeonjun was over. And… there was only one bed. Right. So now… how were they gonna sleep tonight? 

Yeonjun hovered awkwardly near the doorway. “I can just crash on the floor if you—”

Beomgyu flopped onto the bed, face-first, then turned to grin at him. “You’re kidding, right? You stayed with me through my heat and you’re gonna act weird now?”

Yeonjun scratched his neck. “It’s just— this is different. We’re not in a hotel room anymore. Your dad is downstairs. And this is your bed.”

Beomgyu patted the mattress beside him. “Right, which is why I’m sharing it. Duh.”

Yeonjun opened his mouth to argue— and then Beomgyu rolled his eyes.

“We’re dating now. You know that, right?”

“I— yeah! I do, I just—” Yeonjun rubbed his face. “I’m not trying to be a perv or anything.”

Beomgyu snorted. “Yeonjun. We’re really just gonna sleep. I’m tired. You’re tired. No one's trying to jump anyone.”

Yeonjun hesitated, then gave a small, sheepish smile. “...Okay. Fair.”

Beomgyu lifted the covers. “Get in before I change my mind.”

Yeonjun finally climbed in beside him, still a little stiff and blushing as he settled under the blanket.

They lay side by side for a moment, the silence settling comfortably around them.

Then Beomgyu yawned and rolled onto his side, head resting against Yeonjun’s shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. “You smell like my home,” he mumbled sleepily.

Yeonjun’s heart flipped.

He closed his eyes and whispered, “So do you.”

And in the quiet dark of Beomgyu’s bedroom, they drifted off together— no heat, no fear, no confusion. Just two boys sharing a bed, and maybe a little bit of forever in each other. 

—

Yeonjun woke slowly to the smell of something warm— cinnamon? toast?— and the sunlight cutting in through the half-open blinds. But more than anything, it was the warmth curled up against his side that grounded him.

Beomgyu.

Still deep asleep, hair a mess against the pillow, cheek squished slightly against Yeonjun’s shoulder. His arm was slung over Yeonjun’s waist, fingers twitching now and then like he was dreaming something active. There was a tiny trail of drool on the corner of his mouth.

Yeonjun blinked up at the ceiling, heart fluttering stupidly.

This was real.

This was his life now. Dating Beomgyu. Being able to hug him and cuddle him and kiss him and love him— without it being weird anymore. 

He didn’t have long to bask in the happy peace, though.

Because the door creaked open.

And in shuffled Soobin, eyes squinting, hoodie half on, bedhead standing up in cartoonish directions. He paused mid-step.

Then grinned.

“Well well well, what do we have here?” Soobin said, voice cracking with the smug satisfaction of a brother about to be annoying. It was the first time Yeonjun was seeing this side of him— but it was perhaps quite a sight to see Yeonjun and Beomgyu together like this, sharing a bed. 

Yeonjun jolted upright so fast it jostled Beomgyu awake.

Beomgyu blinked blearily, eyes not quite adjusting yet. “Wha—?”

Soobin folded his arms across his chest, leaned against the doorframe, and smirked. “You two sleep well? You want me to go downstairs and get you breakfast in bed? Maybe some candles? Rose petals?” He teases, mostly towards his brother. 

Beomgyu groaned into the pillow. “You’re the worst person alive.”

Yeonjun was already blushing so hard it felt like his ears were on fire.

“We literally just slept, Soobin.”

Soobin raised a brow. “Uh-huh. That’s what I always say when people catch me in someone’s bed.”

Beomgyu hurled a pillow across the room. It hit Soobin square in the face.

“Get out!” He screams. 

Soobin just laughed and caught the pillow on the rebound. “Okay, okay, chill. I’m kidding. Breakfast is ready downstairs. Appa told me to wake you— politely.”

He gave them a smile— softer and fonder this time— before disappearing down the hallway.

Beomgyu flopped back down, covering his face. “I hate him.”

Yeonjun was still trying to cool his cheeks down. “He’s just lucky you were too tired to chase him.”

“I’m gonna put itching powder in his shampoo.”

“…That’s a thing?!”

—

They wandered down to the kitchen ten minutes later, Beomgyu in an oversized hoodie and Yeonjun in borrowed pajama pants. The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting everything gold. The table was already set.

Hyun was pouring orange juice when he looked up at them and smiled.

“There’s the couple of the year. I mean, Soobin’s been telling me you guys are dating now?”

Beomgyu groaned. “Soobin hyung!”

Yeonjun scratched the back of his neck, grinning awkwardly.

Hyun passed them plates. “You two can skip school today, by the way.”

Yeonjun blinked. “Wait— really?”

Hyun winked. “Consider it a wellness day.”

Beomgyu stared. “Did you—?”

“I called in both your absences already. Including the days you missed from your heat— though, I didn’t know that before last night, but I did call the school knowing you two were in the city.” He turned back to the stove like it was no big deal. “School can wait. Omegas can’t.”

Beomgyu stared at his dad for a second longer, then padded over to him and hugged him from behind. “Thanks, Appa.”

Hyun ruffled his hair. “Yup! Oh, and… next time, just tell me when it’s coming. I’ll build you a nest kit to pack next time you travel.”

“It was unplanned, okay? It came early,” Beomgyu pouts. “But… thanks.” 

—

Yeonjun and Beomgyu end up lazying around Beomgyu’s house for the day while Soobin heads to school (but not before congratulating Yeonjun on getting his shit together finally and confessing to Beomgyu) and Hyun to his work. 

It’s mid afternoon, after Beomgyu reheated Hyun’s fried rice thing for lunch and they chatted about small things while they ate, and Beomgyu decides to take a nap in the middle of their movie. 

Yeonjun wordlessly drapes a blanket over Beomgyu’s curled up form on the couch. The omega lifts his head with bleary eyes, and Yeonjun chuckles at the cute expression on his boyfriend (oh my god, his boyfriend)’s face. 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He whispers. “Go back to your nap. It’s okay.”

Beomgyu hums.

“Forgot how nice alphas are… Like alphas that aren’t your best friends. Like… like romantic, sweet, cute alphas like you…” Beomgyu mumbles with a smile, eyes starting to close again as he lays his head back down. 

Yeonjun blinks, and then a smile stretches across his face as his heart blooms. 

It’s hard to believe he’s allowed to be doing this— to be dating Beomgyu now— to be his alpha— there was such relief in having finally told Beomgyu his true subgender and just… knowing he cared enough about Yeonjun to like him (love him?) back. 

Yeonjun stays right where he is, kneeling on the floor by the couch like some lovesick idiot, watching Beomgyu fall asleep again.

He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning too wide— cute doesn’t even begin to cover how Beomgyu looks right now. His lips are parted just slightly, his hair a mess from napping without any intention of doing so, and the blanket Yeonjun tugged over him is already slipping off one shoulder.

Yeonjun adjusts it carefully, tucking it back up without waking him. His fingers linger for a second longer than they need to, brushing against Beomgyu’s collarbone, and a shiver skates down his own spine at the quiet trust in that moment.

It’s not even the physical closeness that gets to him— though that’s definitely something— but the ease of it. The way Beomgyu didn’t flinch or tense when Yeonjun touched him. The way he smiled, even in half-sleep, even after all the confusing weeks and glances and secrets held between them.

Yeonjun settles onto the floor with his back against the couch, one hand coming up to rest on Beomgyu’s arm draped over the cushion. Just a gentle weight. Grounding. He tips his head back until it touches the side of the couch, eyes drifting to the muted movie playing on the screen.

His thoughts are loud in the quiet room.

He chose me. Not despite me being an alpha. Not because of it, either. Just… me.

Beomgyu shifts behind him, his knee nudging against Yeonjun’s shoulder. A faint, barely-there sound escapes him— almost a sigh, like he knows Yeonjun’s still here and he’s comforted by it. Yeonjun’s chest tightens.

“You’re killing me, Beomgyu,” he whispers, a smile curling at his lips again.

He stays there until his legs go numb. Until the afternoon light fades from gold to grey. Until Beomgyu stirs properly again, rubbing at his eyes and blinking down at him with a sleepy frown.

“You didn’t move?” Beomgyu asks, voice rough with sleep.

Yeonjun shrugs. “Didn’t want to wake you.”

Beomgyu gives him a look that’s somewhere between fondness and exasperation. “That’s so dumb,” he says, but there’s warmth in it. “You could’ve at least gotten up on the couch.”

Yeonjun grins. “Didn’t wanna push my luck. I already got to nap with my omega in my arms yesterday. Today I’ll settle for being your floor goblin.”

Beomgyu groans. “You’re the dumbest alpha ever.”

“Your dumb alpha,” Yeonjun replies, grinning shamelessly.

Beomgyu doesn’t say anything for a second. Then he pats the spot next to him on the couch. “Get up here, idiot.”

And Yeonjun does.