Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Heat’s finished.”

San opened his eyes quickly, turning to look.

Yunho stood in the doorway, looking tired but satisfied. He offered San a small smile. “Everyone’s cycles are over.”

Oh, thank god.

San breathed out in relief, getting up from his bed. He stretched, blankets pooling around his lap before he asked, “How do you feel?”

“Great,” Yunho said, sounding honest. “I feel great.”

He must have been. San couldn’t relate, of course.

“That’s good,” San said, careful not to sound longing. He climbed down slowly under Yunho’s watchful eyes—though the alpha’s rut was over, he’d likely be protective for another day or two—and joined him at the doorway.

“You’re wearing my hoodie,” Yunho said, tugging at the hem of said hoodie.

San snorted. “Well, you guys always make me wear your clothes during your cycles. I practically don’t have a choice.”

“Sorry,” Yunho said, not sounding very sorry.

San grinned. “It’s fine. Breakfast?”

Yunho inclined his head.

They walked outside. Everyone was already gathered around the dining table, San saw. They’d probably come out from the pack room together and then remembered to fetch him as well.

“Hey,” he said, dropping down between Wooyoung and Mingi. “How are you guys?”

“Wonderful,” Wooyoung said emphatically.

At the same time, Hongjoong-hyung piped up. “I can’t sit. Wooyoungie destroyed my hips,” he groused.

San laughed at their pack alpha. He’d seen enough from his brief glimpses into the pack room, the separate room with a bed that all of them could fit on, during their cycles to know that the pack didn’t exactly follow normal convention, what with omegas taking and alphas giving. These alphas and omegas did as they liked, when they liked.

Of course, not like San would have much experience. He was a beta, and they’d never asked him to join during their cycles. But he’d seen.

And tried not to see, because the feelings he got from those small flashes were…not something he wanted the pack to find out about.

“And how are you?” Seonghwa-hyung asked.

“Tired,” San said, sighing. It had been a long few days.

“Shouldn’t we be the ones saying that? We were the ones doing non-stop cardio for a week,” Mingi said, laughing at his own joke. San could still smell him. The alpha’s heavy scent usually lingered for the longest post-cycle. As opposed to Jongho. Most days, San could hardly smell the young alpha.

Seonghwa-hyung clicked his tongue. “Hush. Sannie worked at well. He packed all this lovely breakfast for us. Thank you, San-ah.”

San shrugged awkwardly. “It was nothing.”

It really was nothing. He’d gotten used to it, once they’d been living together in their dorm for a while. The others’ heat and rut cycles had naturally synced up, and they’d gotten permission from the company to get off suppressants and spend it together.

San, being a beta, couldn’t. He had planned, at first, to just spend his private time moping, but he’d quickly realized that there was far too much work to be done while his groupmates were incapacitated.

Doing all the cleaning and laundry and cooking wasn’t the hard part of it all. He could handle that for a little under a week every three months.

The hard part was taking care of the others, going in every once in a while to make sure that no biting was taking place, that everyone was safe and happy, making sure they ate and bathed…those were all things he could do, and should do, as the only beta in ATEEZ.

But he had to go in, and he had to see their sweaty, writhing, naked bodies pushing and pulling into each other, their moans—the room was soundproof, so he was safe when he was outside, but not in there—

And their scents. With a beta nose, he couldn’t smell much regularly, but during their cycles everything was heightened enough that even he could see how their scents mixed and mingled in the most beautiful harmony San had ever seen.

It was torture.

Every heat, San spent a few days trying to stave off his growing arousal before breaking, finally, taking care of it in his bathroom far away from the others.

The guilt killed him every time, because what would they think of him, getting aroused by them even though they’d never once asked him to be part of their cycles? They didn’t want him there, and San understood, of course, he was a beta, after all. So how disgusted would they be to find out how his body reacted to them?

He was glad when conversation picked up again. They didn’t discuss what they did in detail around him, perhaps wanting to keep those specifics away from his ears. San wouldn’t blame them. And he didn’t want to hear too much either. It never ended well for him.

After eating, they dispersed, half of the group heading to nap. San was glad they were on vacation—the cycles took a toll on his groupmates’ bodies, and he knew that it was hard on them to have to go to dance practice or recordings or promotions immediately after.

But they were on a break, so they could rest. It was nice.

San himself stretched out on the couch. He wouldn’t mind sleeping some more, with the low volume of whatever Jongho and Yeosang were watching on the TV a buzz in his head, the alpha and omega’s scents already near-indiscernible for him.

A weight settled beside him.

San opened his eyes lazily to see Wooyoung’s face just inches away from him.

He yelped, hitting his head against the plush back of the sofa.

Wooyoung snickered. “Scared you.”

San rolled his eyes, shifting naturally so that Wooyoung could sleep beside him, his own body pressed to the sofa now and Wooyoung on the outside edge. “Yes, yes, you got me.”

Wooyoung smiled smugly before yawning, turning onto his back. “I’m so glad that’s over.”

“You’re not in any pain, right?” San asked. The omegas were off suppressants, so they didn’t have much severe cramping, not anymore—at least, that was what they said—but he always thought it wise to ask.

Wooyoung’s lips turned up a bit. “No. I feel good. Thank you, though. You’re sweet.”

San turned his face, hiding his blush in the sofa cushions.

Wooyoung wriggled, and their wrists brushed together. San almost stopped breathing—but the very next instant, Wooyoung was pulling his hand away quickly. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” San said, trying to control his disappointment. Why would Wooyoung want to scent his beta not-quite-packmate anyway?

“We must have bothered you a lot,” Wooyoung said. “What with the scenting and all.”

San shook his head. “It’s fine.” Of course, ordinarily he wasn’t much part of the pack. But he’d lived with them for so long, the alphas and omegas probably saw him as an honorary pack member or something.

During their cycles, their instincts increased, possessiveness along with it, even over betas. San tried to avoid touching them, all naked and wet, but they always managed to pull him in and scent him all over, wrap him in their scents before letting him head back outside.

They would even force them to wear their clothes, and over time San had gotten into the habit of pulling on bits and pieces over the days—Seonghwa-hyung’s sock, the other sock Mingi’s, Yunho’s hoodies, a shirt from Yeosang, pants from Jongho, a hat from Hongjoong-hyung, an apron that was Wooyoung’s. Or any combination thereof. They always seemed satisfied when he smelled like them.

San liked it. Just for a week, he felt like he was actually part of the pack.

It was dangerous, though, thinking that way.

Because they always apologized to him once it was all over—about the scenting, and the clothes, and the things he had to see, and hear. San told them it wasn’t necessary every time, but they insisted, so he let them. They were probably embarrassed too that they acted like that with someone who wasn’t even really part of the pack.

San ended up dozing off, his body still exhausted, and woke up only past lunchtime. He ate lightly with Wooyoung and Hongjoong-hyung, both of whom had slept as well.

“Oh, San-ah,” Hongjoong-hyung said suddenly. “You’re going out today, right?”

San nodded.

“With Changbin?” Wooyoung asked.

“Yeah,” San said. He and Changbin had always been close, and they’d gotten closer during Kingdom. Changbin had invited him out to meet up. Wooyoung had been invited too, but he had plans with Yeosang and Yeonjun, so he’d had to refuse.

“Have fun,” Wooyoung said.

San was planning to.

He got dressed simply and left, keeping a mask and hat over his face as he headed to a discreet café, where idols could meet up without being exposed to the media.

Changbin was already waiting there. He spotted San, holding a hand up.

San returned the wave, sitting down opposite him and removing his mask and hat. “Hi. How are you?”

“Peachy,” Changbin said. Then he squinted at San. “Why do you look so tired?”

San sighed, running a hand through his hair. “The others’ cycles just ended.”

“Ah,” Changbin said. The alpha grinned slyly. “That must’ve been fun, eh?”

San felt himself go red. “No! No, I mean—for them, I guess? I’m not really involved in all that, though.”

Changbin’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Just—you know, I’m a beta. I don’t spend their cycles with them.”

“Why not?” Changbin asked.

San bit his lip. “I don’t know. They never asked, and I didn’t want to make them uncomfortable, that’s all.”

“How would you be making them uncomfortable,” Changbin said, grinning. “Have you seen the way they look at you?”

San rolled his eyes. “Sure. Should we order?”

He’d just eaten, so he just got a little pastry and a strawberry smoothie. Changbin ordered an iced Americano and some sort of sandwich for himself. “How have things been with your pack?”

Changbin, who’d just taken a large bite, had to swallow before answering. “Good. Really good, actually.”

San smiled. “I’m happy for you.”

“What about you guys?”

“They’re all fine. Tired, mostly, because it ended just this morning. Everyone’s been resting.”

Changbin nodded. “You know, I still think it’s weird that you aren’t a part of their cycles. I mean, you’re a part of the pack.”

San paused.

Changbin blinked up at him, eyes wide. “Don’t tell me.”

“I mean…not really?” San hedged. “Like, they’ve never asked me to spend a heat or rut with them, they hardly scent me…I don’t know. I mean, none of us are bonded yet, so I guess it doesn’t matter yet anyway.”

Changbin was still gaping at him.

“And I’m a beta,” San said quickly. “Come on, how often have you seen a beta be a part of a pack?”

Changbin’s lips pursed. “Not…often,” he said, eyes faraway. “I mean, I haven’t met many betas in all, but…they usually stick to other betas, I guess.”

San nodded. Betas were the rarest subgender as it was, so Changbin probably wouldn’t understand all the complications that came with being one. “Yeah. Betas with betas. Everyone else together. I mean, no one really wants betas as part of their pack anyway.”

He hadn’t been aiming to make his voice so sad, but it had come out so anyway.

“But you want that.”

San looked up at the alpha. “What?”

Changbin was eyeing him carefully, eyes narrowed like he could see right through San. “You want to be part of their pack, don’t you?”

“What—I—no,” San stuttered. “I—I’m just a beta, I don’t—anyways, they’ll grow up and bond with each other and I’ll still be part of ATEEZ, I don’t have any other aspirations—”

He said it all quickly, breathily, like it wasn’t the thing he was dreading most, seeing the others bond and form a pack without him. He’d still be their groupmate, of course, ATEEZ would forever keep them together, but—he wouldn’t be pack.

He tried not to think about it. That was for future San to deal with.

Changbin’s face softened. “Do you really think that? Don’t you see how much they love you?”

“Of course they love me,” San said. “I’ve never doubted that. But not…not in a pack way, is all.”

Changbin sighed. “I really don’t think so. I mean, I’ve heard the way Wooyoung talks about you. And the way he looks at you—” He made a face. “Like, I can practically hear his thoughts, and I really, really don’t want to.”

San shook his head quickly. “No. That’s not—not how it is.”

“Hmm. Well. I’ll prove it to you, then,” Changbin said.

“What?”

“I said I’ll prove it to you.” He stood up abruptly, grabbing San’s hand. “Come on.”

“Wait—what are you doing?” San said as Changbin pulled him upright. “Where are we going?”

Changbin took a sip of his coffee before answering. “Choi San, we’re going to help you seduce the rest of your pack.”

The absurdity of the statement took a moment to sink in.

“Hang on, I really don’t think that’s going to work—”

“Oh, it will,” Changbin said grimly. “You just trust me.” He patted San’s arm. “I’ll make sure they won’t even be able to think about leaving you out of the pack.”

San eyed him with no small amount of bewilderment as Changbin made him put on his mask and hat again before dragging him out of the café. They headed to some department store. San could barely catch the name before Changbin pulled him inside.

“They have great stuff here,” Changbin said. “I’ll get something for you. My treat.”

“What?”

“Just—oh, look at that! It would look so good on you! Try it on!”

A few minutes later, San found himself standing in front of the trial rooms with a pile of clothes in his hands. “No. Absolutely not.”

Changbin pouted. “Come on.”

“None of this is my style,” San said, still gaping down at everything Changbin had shoved onto him. Most of it was too revealing, too tight, too…things like that were fine on stage, during performances, but not to wear around the dorm.

“You just have to surprise them by wearing something like this every once in a while. That’ll make them even more interested in you than they already are.”

San didn’t agree with this logic, like at all, but he saw no option. He sighed and heading into the room, locking the door, and then braced himself.

The first outfit Changbin had chosen was light jeans that were on the tight side of tight, and a bright yellow, soft crop top, something that was similar to Yeonjun’s recent styling, in San’s personal opinion.

Still, the fabric of the top was cozy, and he wasn’t entirely uncomfortable when he stepped out.

Changbin looked him up and down and made an impressed face. “Hey, nice. See, if you wear something like this, I guarantee they won’t be able to keep their eyes off you.”

San rolled his eyes and went back inside.

He changed into a turtleneck that stuck to his figure, and black glossy pants that he went through a practical war in the process of putting on.

“No,” he said.

“But it looks so good!” Changbin said, gesturing up and down.

“If I wear this they’ll think someone possessed me,” San said. “Also, I don’t have the ass to pull it off.”

“Your ass looks great,” Changbin said with a determined nod. “It’s small but it’s well-shaped. Very cute.”

San sighed and went back in.

He cycled through the next few outfits. Changbin seemed to have a theme, it seemed, of clothing that was far too tight, or cropped in particular places. Specifically around his waist.

San could understand this point of view—he checked SNS and Twitter every once in a while, and he knew ATEEZ’s stylist emphasized the curve of his waist too, but…he’d been living with his group for years. Just seeing some waist wasn’t going to make them lose it, no matter what Changbin thought.

He was getting tired when Changbin made him try on just one last outfit. Acquiescing,  San went back on the changing room and put it on.

It was…

Really nice and surprisingly simple came to his mind simultaneously.

The jeans were a pretty blue, tight but not overly so, and they accentuated his…rear end rather nicely. The top was white, long-sleeved, the fabric stretching from his wrists to his abdomen, leaving his waist and navel free to view.

And it was V-necked, leaving his collarbones open, low around the shoulders so basically his entire neck-and-shoulder region was bared, like an invitation for someone to mark him. Tight, too. San was pretty sure his nipples were showing, very slightly, if he arched in a particular way.

It didn’t cover a lot, but a lot better than some of the other stuff Changbin had put him in.

He opened the door gingerly.

Changbin’s eyes widened. “Oh, nice.”

“I think so too,” San said, smoothing it down. “It’s a little…well, a lot revealing, but—”

“That’s the point,” Changbin said dismissively. “We want them to want to jump your bones.”

San’s face went hot immediately. “Changbin!”

“What?” He protested. “That’s what we’re going for! And this is perfect—sexy but innocent. Just like you.”

“I’m not innocent,” San grumbled. He’d seen things during his members’ heat cycles that had left him scarred for days.

Changbin snorted. “Sure. Tell me, when did you have your first kiss again?”

San glared at him, trying to burn Changbin alive through his eyes alone. “Shut up,” he said through gritted teeth. He’d accidentally told Changbin that he’d never kissed anyone before—Changbin, of all people, he’d managed to keep it a secret from everyone else—and the alpha had never let it go.

Changbin cackled. “Nope. It’s your own fault for spilling that secret.”

“Just—keep it a secret,” San muttered. His members didn’t need to know that he’d never had his first kiss, not with the all the stuff San had seen them get up to. They’d think he was a baby.

“Of course I will,” Changbin said, standing up. “So—we’re decided. I’m buying it.”

San changed back into his normal clothes, and then there was a brief argument about who would pay the bill, which Changbin won with his sneaky ways. Then he forced San to wear the top and jeans he’d just bought. To surprise them when you come back home!

It was getting late then, so Changbin offered to drop him home.

San only realized later that the alpha had had ulterior motives.

Once they reached the door, Changbin stopped him. He leaned in closer—

San yelped, stumbling backwards. “What are you doing?”

“Hush,” Changbin said impatiently. “I’m not doing anything. This is part of the plan.” He made San stand there as he rubbed along San’s necks and his wrists proprietarily.

“Scenting me is part of the plan?” San hissed.

“Yup,” Changbin said promptly, and then rang the doorbell.

As soon as Mingi opened the door, his jaw dropped.

San could practically feel Changbin’s smugness radiating from him. He elbowed the alpha discreetly and smiled at Mingi. “Hey. I’m back.”

“Is that you, San-ah? You’re late—what are you wearing?” Wooyoung screeched.

So he was back from his outing too, then.

“I took him shopping,” Changbin said, so innocent that San could almost see the halo above his head. “Don’t you think it’s pretty?” He grabbed San’s hand and walked past Mingi, shoving him inside the house.

San glared at him before turning around. The rest of the pack was scattered in the living room and kitchen, all their eyes on him. “Uh…hi.”

“It is pretty,” Yunho murmured.

San was not blushing. He was not.

“It’s not really your style, though,” Seonghwa-hyung said.

San shrugged. “It’s not bad to switch things up every once in a while.”

They remained silent. He cleared his throat, turning back to Changbin. “It was fun. Thank you for inviting me out.”

“No problem,” Changbin said, grinning. “We should do it again. I’ll text you.”

“Hey, hyung—why do you smell like Changbin-ssi?” Jongho asked, nose wrinkling. So he could smell it from all the way over there? How thoroughly had Changbin scented him?

“Oh, Sannie didn’t really smell like anyone, you must have forgotten to scent him before he left,” Changbin said. “And, I mean, look at him. People couldn’t keep his eyes off him. I can’t blame them, but still. I wanted to be careful. At least with a scent no one will try anything with him.”

San gaped, almost impressed with the smoothness of that lie.

“Well, then,” Changbin said cheerily into the silence. “I’ll be going now. San-ah, see you later!” He pulled San in.

“See you later,” San mumble, hugging him back. He let go, watching Changbin wave before walking outside. Then he stood there, almost afraid of turning back around.

“So…you had fun?” Yeosang asked finally.

He nodded, letting himself meet their eyes. “Yeah. It was nice.”

“That’s good,” Hongjoong-hyung said, but his smile hadn’t quite reached his eyes. “Come on, sit down. We’re having a movie night.”

San sat down between Jongho and Wooyoung, not bothering to change. Normally, he would’ve, but…was it ridiculous to say that he wanted to see how Changbin’s plan played out? Normally his members probably wouldn’t care, but this close to their cycles, maybe they were, in the tiniest bit, affected.

That was probably just wishful thinking.

Indeed, no one was looking at him. Their eyes were all on the TV screen, and San felt, abruptly, like an idiot. Of course they wouldn’t care that he was dressed up a bit sexy. Why would they?

Wooyoung made a noise and shifted away from him, slightly.

San glanced over. “Something wrong?”

Wooyoung’s nose was wrinkled. “You smell.”

San blinked at him. “Changbin’s your friend, though. I know you don’t think he smells. You like his scent.”

Wooyoung’s face screwed up further.

“If San-hyung allowed Changbin-ssi to scent him, then we should be accepting of that,” Jongho said, his tone unreadable.

San squinted at him. Why were they making it seem like—like he was in a relationship with Changbin, or something? He turned back to Wooyoung. “I can wash it off, if it really bothers you. I guess you’re still in post-heat so you don’t like the scents of non-pack people.”

That was probably it, why they all seemed so bothered. Still possessive, the heat and rut effects not having left them completely.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, San-ah,” Seonghwa-hyung said, giving Wooyoung a severe look for some reason.

“I don’t mind it,” San said. “Not if it bothers you.” He stood up. “I’ll be back in a second, alright? Ah, and you can pick any movie as long as it’s not scary.”

He headed inside, running water over his neck and wrists, patting them dry. Perhaps Changbin had scented him strongly—with his beta nose, San had no way of knowing, anyway.

He changed, too, finally wearing his own clothes in the house for the first time in a week. The others wouldn’t care about him smelling like them now, now that it was all over. They probably just didn’t want outside scents up their noses so soon, that was common. San really should’ve known that. And San could see how little what he’d been wearing affected them, so there was no point keeping it on.

He headed back outside in sweatpants and a hoodie, settling back down onto the couch. “Better?”

“Much,” Wooyoung murmured pettily, ignoring the eye-rolling by the other members of his pack.

San laughed, putting an arm around Wooyoung’s shoulder. “Well, then. I’m glad.”

They started the movie, something Jongho’s friend had recommended, and sitting like that, comfortable among his members, San was still happy. He wouldn’t be part of the pack, but he could still live like this, a friend and a loved one. He was okay with that. He had to be. He could be happy like that.

He could. He would. There was simply no other option.

Chapter Text

San kept going out with Changbin, every so often, even when their break ended and they started getting back to dance practices and vocal lessons. They’d started preparing for their comeback again, and it was all coming together nicely, San thought privately.

The songs were great, the tentative choreography was great, and the styling plans were out of this world. It was going to be really good, he was pretty sure.

Changbin, when he wasn’t busy with his own promotions, kept coming up with stupid, inane plans—walk out in a shirt and short shorts so they can see your legs! Suck a popsicle right in front of everyone! Bend over a lot!

San ignored all of this.

“Are you going out with Changbin again today?” Yeosang asked.

San nodded. “After I’m back from dancing lessons. I’ll be home in time for dinner, though.”

“Aren’t you going out a bit too much with Changbin lately?” Mingi grumbled.

Wooyoung nodded. “Yeah, if you keep hanging around with an unmated alpha people are going to start getting ideas.”

San laughed. “We’re friends, and I’m unmated too. Besides, I hang around with you guys basically every second. We’re all unmated too.”

Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah, but—”

“Everyone, let’s get going!” Hongjoong-hyung shouted, saving San from hearing the rest of Wooyoung’s sentence.

It was probably for the best. San almost imagined, for a moment, that he’d been about to say something like ‘But you’re part of the pack.’ Which was ridiculous, and he was glad that he wasn’t able to get disappointed by whatever Wooyoung would undoubtedly say instead.

 Once they reached the company, they all split up. The hyungs and Jongho were going to the recording studio, Mingi and Yeosang to some language class, Yunho and Wooyoung to dance lesson. San was going for a dance lesson as well, but his was contemporary, under a new instructor, who none of them gotten a chance to work with yet. His wasn’t for the comeback, just a personal interest.

San waved goodbye to the others and followed Yunho and Wooyoung to the dance studios, seeing them off. He headed into the room he’d been directed.

The instructor was a tall omega. He smiled when San came in. “San-ssi?”

San nodded and bowed. “Please take care of me, seonsaengnim.”

“Of course,” the instructor laughed. “Why don’t you warm up, and then we can get started.”

San stretched carefully, making sure to ease out all his muscles. Sometimes he looked up and saw the instructor staring at him intently, which was a bit weird, but he probably just wanted to see what he was working with, what San’s flexibility was like.

Once he was done, they started. The lesson was nice at first. ATEEZ hadn’t done contemporary much, but San liked it, like the slow movements and the emotion he could put into his dance.

He was sweaty and panting, bent over with his hands on his knees once the lesson was coming to an end.

“We can just do a bit more and then it’ll be about time for you to leave, I think,” the instructor said.

San nodded and straightened. “Sounds good.”

He ran through a few more movements before the instructor called, “Stop. Hold that position.”

He came up behind San, grabbing his hips abruptly. San froze as the instructor shifted him a bit, peering over his shoulder at the mirror.

And then he just…stood there.

San’s nose twitched. Something smelled…off.

He coughed when the instructor’s hands had been lingering on his body for a bit to long. “Seonsaengnim?”

His instructor blinked hard, stepping back. “Right. This seems more correct. Continue, please.”

Well.

Ignoring whatever that had been, San followed the steps of the dance he’d been taught, stretching his arms out and throwing his head back, letting the music wash over him. This was what he loved doing.

“Very good,” the instructor said, once it was over.

San smiled and bowed. “Thank you.” He made his way over to the corner he’d left his things in, taking a long sip of water before checking his phone. There were a bunch of texts from his group members—ah, they’d gone overtime. That was probably why. The others would likely be waiting for him or on their way already to come fetch him.

He expected the latter, knowing how impatient some of them were.

There was a sudden presence at his side.

San jumped, looking up to see the instructor looming over him, a bit too close. “Seonsaengnim?”

The instructor smiled. He reached a hand out to pat San’s waist. “I just wanted to say you did well today. You’re very talented.”

“Uh. Thank you,” San said, staring at him.

He didn’t move his hand.

San couldn’t move. He had no idea what was going on.

The door slammed. Before either of them could move, there was a loud voice. “What the hell is going on?”

The instructor stumbled backwards, and San whipped his head around to see the rest of his members gathered in the doorway, their faces all scrunched up in disgust.

He’d never been so relived in his life.

Hongjoong-hyung’s face was cold. He stormed forward, grabbing San’s wrist and putting himself between San and the instructor. “What do you think you’re doing?”

San stared at his back, confused again.

“San-ah, come here,” Seonghwa-hyung said. San hadn’t noticed him come up behind them, but he let Seonghwa-hyung pull him away, back to the others.

“Are you okay?” Yeosang asked.

“Did he do something to you?” Mingi added.

Wooyoung nodded furiously. “Tell me, I’ll kill him, I swear.”

San looked at all of them, completely bewildered. “What? What’s going on? Why are you all acting like this?”

Jongho touched his elbow lightly, getting his attention. “Hyung,” he said quietly. “The room…smells.”

San was still confused. “What? It smells like what?”

“Like arousal,” Yunho said, his voice hard.

San gaped. As the words sank in, he flushed and whipped back around.

Hongjoong-hyung was still glaring at the instructor, who had his head bowed. “I’ll be reporting you,” hyung seethed. “Don’t come near him again.”

As San watched wide-eyed, Hongjoong-hyung spun on his heel and walked back towards them. His face gentled when he saw San. “Are you okay?”

“Let’s go out before talking,” Seonghwa-hyung suggested.

They led him outside. Hongjoong-hyung had to make a quick stop to tell someone what the instructor had done, smelled like, and then they split up into two vans.

San stared out of the window as they drove back. The instructor had been…aroused. Because of him. He hadn’t been able to tell, of course, but maybe he should have, with the way the man had looked at him, touched him.

He shuddered. The more he thought about it the more disgusting it seemed.

The others were patient, though, waiting until they got home and San changed, waiting till he walked into the living room and settled down on the sofa before asking San what had happened.

He shrugged uncomfortably, hugging a pillow to his chest. “I don’t really know. I mean, he touched me while he was fixing my positions, and I thought it was weird, but…I didn’t pick up on anything. And I couldn’t smell him, obviously.”

“That’s all he did?” Hongjoong-hyung asked, lips pursed. “Don’t be embarrassed to tell us—or any one of us, if that’s what you feel comfortable with. I’ll report it myself.”

San shook his head quickly. “No, really he only touched me a little. That’s all.”

“That’s not all,” Jongho murmured, looking unhappy.

San sighed. “Well, I really am fine.”

“I don’t like it,” Wooyoung said, jaw still tense. “You smell like him it—ugh. Let me scent you.”

“Sure,” San said easily, leaning over. Wooyoung blinked, looking a bit surprised, but he rubbed his wrists and nose along San’s neck and his own wrists. “Are you close to heat again?”

“Why?” Wooyoung asked, pulling back.

San shrugged. “That’s the only time you guys scent me.” Checking the time mentally, he was right, he realized. They were awfully close to their cycles. That explained things.

“Ah…right,” Wooyoung said, sounding awkward. “You probably don’t like it otherwise, I guess.”

San blinked at him. “No? I like it. Who doesn’t like being scented by their—friends.”

Friends. Not pack.

He had to remember that.

For some reason, everyone looked surprised.

“So—can I scent you, then?” Mingi asked.

“Okay,” San said slowly. He let Mingi rub along him gently, and that wasn’t it. Mingi had asked, so Yunho asked too, and then Jongho, then Yeosang carefully and the hyungs.

By the end of it, San was covered in his members’ scents—and they weren’t even on their cycles yet. This was the first time that had ever happened.

He really, really liked it.

He was actually a bit dazed by the time it was all over. The others had been so strong that he could actually smell them a bit, smell the way their scents mixed all over his body. It was intoxicating, to say the least.

“San-ah, if you ever want to talk about what happened,” Seonghwa-hyung said. “You know you can come to any of us, right?”

San nodded obediently. “Yes, hyung.”

The doorbell rang.

“Oh, that must be Changbin,” he said, jumping up. He opened the door to see Changbin standing there, already grinning. Then he took a look around, smile dropping. “Wow, it smells tense in here. What’s going on?”

“I had a…touchy dance instructor,” San mumbled. “Apparently when they came in, he…smelled. Like. I guess you can imagine.”

Changbin grimaced. “That’s why I say they should scent you more. You’re too innocent to tell what people around you think,” he said, leaning closer. His eyebrows rose. “Which I can see you have done today. Your scents are all over him.”

“So don’t ruin it,” Wooyoung said, glaring at him from the sofa. “Don’t drop him back home smelling like you again.”

Changbin winked at him. “No promises. Come on, San-ah.”

San yelped as he was dragged out of the house. “Changbin!” He scolded as they walked.

Changbin laughed. “What? I didn’t do anything.” Then his face sombered. “Are you okay?”

San sighed, nodding. “I really am. He didn’t do anything, he was just a bit weird and touched me a little, but it really wasn’t that bad. I didn’t even know anything was going on until the others told me.”

Changbin’s lips pursed. “Is Hongjoong-hyung taking care of it?”

“He reported it,” San answered.

“Good,” Changbin said grimly.

They ordered at the café that had become their unofficial meet-up place, San sticking to a berry milkshake and Changbin to his coffee as usual.

Changbin talked a bit about his pack and all their shenanigans, which San always thought were funny. It was nice to see someone who was so sure of himself and his place in his pack. San could only imagine what it would’ve been like for him, if he’d presented as an alpha or omega instead of a useless beta.

“What about you?” Changbin asked. “Bent over in front of them anytime soon?”

San’s eyes widened. “No! Shut up!”

Changbin snickered. “I think I was right. Jealousy is the way to go. Look, they’ve scented you so much I can hardly smell anything else when I’m half a foot away from you.”

San blushed. “That’s only because they’re close to their cycles. They get possessive.”

“Possessive over someone who, according to himself, isn’t a pack member?” Changbin asked skeptically.

San looked down at the table. “Well, I’ve been with them for so long, so yeah. Their instincts start acting up, they probably see me as like an honorary member or something.”

“Honorary member,” Changbin scoffed. “You’re just refusing to see it.”

San stayed silent.

“What if I scented you right now?” Changbin asked. “If I took you home smelling like me instead of them. What do you think they’d do?”

San jerked up to look at him, shocked. “Oh my god, Changbin, don’t. That’ll be a disaster.”

Changbin cocked an eyebrow.

“Because they don’t like other people’s scents during their cycles,” San said. “Don’t read too much into it.”

“Don’t you want to try it out and see?” Changbin asked.

San shook his head. He pulled at his sleeves slowly. “No, don’t—I don’t want you to. I—I like it like this,” he mumbled. “I like smelling like them.”

He could feel himself blushing under Changbin’s incredulous gaze.

“You’re so in love with them.”

“No!” San yelped, looking up. “No, I’m just—no, don’t say that. I’m not in love with them. I can’t be.”

“You can’t be?” Changbin asked softly.

San swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I can’t, okay? They can’t know—they don’t feel like that about me. I can’t feel things like that for them, they’ll—they’ll think I’m disgusting, I—”

Changbin grabbed his hand slowly, squeezing his fingers as San stared down at the table, trying to will his tears to go away.

“Oh, San-ah,” he murmured. “Why do you think like that? Of course they love you.”

“Please don’t say that,” San said, voice high-pitched because he was trying so hard to not cry. “I can’t have false hope like that.”

“I—fine,” Changbin relented. “I think it’s true, but fine. I won’t say it. Still, Sannie—they’re your best friends, aren’t they? They love you, even if you don’t think it’s in a romantic way.”

San nodded, sniffling.

“Why do you think they’d be mad if they found out you’re in love with them? They love you, they’d love you anyway. Why would they be disgusted. It’s just feelings, it’s not like you can control them.”

San bit his lip. Changbin was being unreasonably logical, but it didn’t hurt any less. “Still,” he said, wiping his eyes discreetly. “They can’t find out. Ever.”

Changbin sighed. “Okay. It’s okay.” He patted San’s head slowly, running his hands through San’s hair. “It’s going to be alright, okay?”

San really hoped so. Because he couldn’t see any future in which he wasn’t forever pining over his groupmates, people who would never love him back.

Still, he made himself straighten and forced a laugh. “I really ruined the mood, huh? Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Changbin said gently. He didn’t push the rest of the time, sticking to familiar topics of conversation—their groupmates, how promotions and preparations for the comeback was going. He even let San listen to some of the songs he’d written lately, which were all brilliant.

Still, they were somewhat subdued when they headed back.

Changbin paused outside their apartment. “San-ah, I know you don’t want to talk about it, but—let me try one last thing. If this doesn’t work I’ll let it go.”

San pursed his lips but sighed. “Fine.”

Changbin patted his shoulder. “Thank you. Don’t mind what I do, okay?”

San was confused as he knocked on the door. Seonghwa-hyung opened it with a smile. “Had fun?”

San thought back to his near-breakdown.

He plastered a smile on his face as he stepped inside the house. “Yup! Very fun!”

“That’s good,” hyung said, giving him an indulgent smile. “Changbin-ah, do you want to stay for dinner?”

Changbin shook his head. “Oh, no, that’s fine. I should get going too. Just—bye, San-ah.”

As San watched, he took a few steps closer and leaned in, and—

Planted a kiss on San’s cheek. Really close to his lips. Really, really close to his lips.

San’s hand flew to his cheek as he stepped back, the surprise running through him matched by the air of shock running through the room.

There was a loud growl.

San watched, almost in slow motion, as Yunho charged towards them, grabbing San by the shoulders.

Yunho kissed him.

Yunho kissed him.

San’s heart stopped.

It lasted only for seconds before Yunho was pulled away, everyone around them shouting. San’s eyes darted past him to Changbin, who looked as stunned as he felt.

What had just happened?

“I’m going to go,” Changbin whispered.

No—no, he couldn’t leave San here, not like this, not after what Yunho had just done—and there he was going, the door shutting behind him.

The house was dead silent.

San stayed there for a moment, throat burning. Then he whirled. “What were you thinking?”

 Yunho looked wide-eyed, guilty, and a vengeful part of San was pleased by that. “I—I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t mean to what?” San asked furiously, and oh, god, he could feel tears building up in his eyes. “You didn’t mean to kiss me? Then why did you do it?”

“I’m sorry!” Yunho cried, anguished. “I just—I don’t know what happened, I—”

“Save it,” San said. Before he could do anything stupid like cry in front of all of them, he marched to his room, shutting the door behind himself. He climbed up to his bed quickly, pulling the blankets over himself.

Oh, god.

No, no, no—

Yunho had kissed him.

Why had Yunho kissed him?

San couldn’t stop thinking about it, that brief, momentary touch of their lips, how undeniably good it had felt, how wrong it was for him to feel that way.

Because it was wrong.

Yunho had kissed him, yes, but he hadn’t meant to, clearly. He was close to his rut and the most possessive of all of them as it was. He’d probably been pissed at seeing an outside alpha get so close to San, even if San wasn’t pack.

And San could understand that, he just—

He couldn’t take it. Couldn’t let Yunho play with his heart like that. Couldn’t have any of them stringing him along, making him hope, making him believe. He’d be crushed in the end, he knew. He always was.

He clamped a hand over his mouth, trying to muffle his sobs. Tears ran down his face no matter how much he wiped them away.

He couldn’t do this. He really couldn’t. He was so in love with them, and he just couldn’t stifle his feelings, so everything they did just made him dream about more, dream about things that would never, never happen.

There was a knock on the door. “San-ah? Can I come in?”

It was Yunho.

San wiped at his face harshly, taking in a loud sniff before clearing his throat. “…okay.”

He heard the door creak open, and then close.

“I’m really sorry, Sannie,” Yunho said quietly. “I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that. And I shouldn’t have kissed you, not without asking. It wasn’t right.”

San took in a shaky breath. “It’s…it’s fine.”

“It’s not,” Yunho said, sounding frustrated. “It was an awful thing to do, not least because of what happened to you today, and I really am so, so sorry for it.”

Yunho apologizing for kissing him so much was just making San feel worse. “I get it, it’s okay. You were close to your rut, you were possessive, it’s fine.”

“That’s not what—”

“Just don’t do it again,” San said, making Yunho go silent.

“What?”

San dug his fingernails into his skin, forcing the next words out of his mouth. “Don’t do it again. I can’t—I won’t be kissed because you were jealous or anything.”

“San-ah—”

“You can’t do that to me, Yunho,” San breathed. “I can’t take it.”

Yunho was quiet for a long moment. San heard him heave a sigh. “Fine. I won’t. Will you come out now?”

San wiped his face once more, gathering all the stray tears, and then lifted the blanket. He blinked hard, getting used to the light, and met Yunho’s eyes.

Yunho was glancing all over his face, clearly noting his red eyes. He looked sad. But all he said was, “The others are waiting to have dinner with us.”

San nodded. Yunho didn’t touch him as he climbed down. He changed his snot-covered shirt into someone’s hoodie, far too tired to care who’s it was.

The house was quiet when they walked back out, the others around the dining table clearly trying not to stare at them.

“You okay?” Yeosang asked quietly when San sat down beside him.

San nodded, staring at the table. “Let’s eat.”

They started eating in silence, and it was getting awful, uncomfortable and heavy.

Thankfully, Wooyoung broke it. “So what did you do with Changbin?”

“Just talked,” San answered, glad to have a thread of conversation unrelated to the kiss. “We went to that little café.”

Wooyoung nodded. “I should go there one day. See what you two do.”

San smiled at him, returning to his meal. He grimaced internally at the thought of Wooyoung coming, what with his usual topics of conversation with Changbin.

They were clearing up quietly when Seonghwa-hyung took him by the hand. “San-ah, if you ever want to talk about today, let me or Hongjoong know. And I’m sorry for Yunho. We all talked to him.”

Yunho looked ashamed as Hongjoong-hyung nodded. “He won’t ever do anything like that again, Sannie, I swear.”

San was actually beginning to feel a bit bad for Yunho, whose head was bowed now. He forced a small laugh. “It’s really okay, hyungs. Besides, I had to have my first kiss at some point. I’m glad it was with someone like Yunho.”

The room went still.

“That was your first kiss?” Yeosang asked, hushed.

…oh, fuck.

Yunho looked stricken. He half-rose from his chair. “Sannie—”

“It’s really fine!” San said, panicking. “I—I told you, I’m glad it was with you.”

Now it was Yunho who looked near tears. “Oh, god, Sannie—I’m so sorry, I really am. I can’t believe I—” He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up.

San sighed and walked over to him, grabbing one of his hands. “It’s okay, Yunho-yah, I swear. Besides, you love me, don’t you?”

Yunho’s eyes went wide.

San waited.

“Of—of course,” Yunho stuttered finally.

San smiled at him. “Then I don’t mind. I’m glad I had my first kiss with someone who loves me.” He reached up and patted Yunho’s soft hair for good measure.

The others still looked a bit sad when he turned around. He smiled at all of them. “Relax, you guys. Want to watch a movie?”

He got to choose, so he picked something light-hearted. They all needed it. None of them brought it up afterwards, even as they said their goodnights and headed to bed.

Yunho was in the bed below him, breathing quietly. San could tell he was awake, though.

“Yunho-yah?”

A moment. “Yeah?”

“Don’t beat yourself up about today, alright?” San said. “I know you’re guilty, but don’t be. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” Yunho said softly. “But if you don’t want to talk about it, we won’t.”

San let out a harsh sigh. “It’s not that, I just—I don’t want any of us to dwell on it. And I don’t want you to feel bad. So please, don’t.”

“I can’t control my feelings,” Yunho said, sounding sad.

Yeah. San couldn’t either.

“Okay,” he said, rolling onto his side. “But I’ve forgiven you.”

I hope you’ll forgive me too, one day, when you find out how I really feel.

“Thank you,” Yunho said, painfully polite.

San’s heart continued to ache until he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

The house was dead silent. Except for him.

San had been right—the day after his disastrous kiss with Yunho, the others had gone straight into heat and rut. He’d had to horde them all into the pack room, because they were already getting sweaty and desperate.

It had been an ordeal.

But he’d persevered, and now he had the house to himself for the next few days. It wasn’t so bad, having to take care of the house. He got lots of alone time.

And alone time was what he needed, now. To clear his head, to shove down feelings that were resurfacing dangerously. To act like the pack’s perfect, polite beta friend again.

It was probably a good thing that he wouldn’t be seeing Changbin for the duration of it. The others got possessive, and he’d learned pretty early on that they could even pick up on the scent of a delivery man that had come to hand food for them to San.

That hadn’t ended well, which was why San stuck to feeding them his mediocre cooking. It was enough to fuel them and keep their energy up during their cycles, which was what really mattered, even if it wasn’t as sophisticated as the things Wooyoung came up with. It didn’t really matter to him, as it was—he’d been so tired from everything that had happened that he hadn’t been eating much either.

Regardless, they were nearing the end of their cycles now, and, despite the tiredness, San was actually feeling refreshed.

Aside from the glances of, you know, knots and slick and all, he was able to keep his heart under lockdown. Except for when the others grabbed him to scent him and shove their clothes onto him, but that was a different story.

It was really too hot to be wearing so much, but if he took one of his groupmates’ clothes off, they’d throw a tantrum for sure.

Balancing a tray in one hand, he gave a proprietary knock before heading inside. The others weren’t exactly paying attention to any sounds but their own moans, but San still thought it was right to knock.

The scents hit him first. He glanced at the bed—naked, writhing bodies twisting into each other—and looked away quickly, setting down his tray of chopped-up fruits on the bedside table. Full of sugar, so they’d get energy.

“Please eat!” He said loudly, staring at the wall. “If any of you starve to death the company will kill me.”

“We’ll—eat—” Hongjoong-hyung grunted.

San was almost scared to see what was making that sound that way, but he couldn’t help the turn of his head—He yelped and whipped back around.

Seonghwa-hyung was fucking into him, and Hongjoong-hyung was fucking into Mingi, who was lying below them both.

San screwed his eyes shut. This was…a lot.

He had to leave.

“San-ah,” someone called petulantly.

Sighing, he shuffled a bit to see Yeosang pouting up at him with upstretched hands, and stepped closer. “I’m here,” he said, smoothing over Yeosang’s sweaty forehead.

Before he knew what was happening, Yeosang’s hands were encircling his back and pulling him in.

With a squeak, he went down, Yeosang holding him steady as he nosed around San’s neck violently. He always got surprisingly possessive too.

“I think you’ve scented me enough,” San said, patting his head.

“Never enough,” Yeosang mumbled.

San snorted. “Alright. Take your time.”

Yeosang did, rubbing harshly on San’s exposed skin—not that he was showing much skin, because of all the clothes they’d shoved him into—and within that time, Wooyoung, who’d been fucking Yeosang, began rubbing along the other side of San’s neck.

San sighed and resigned himself to his fate.

Once they were done, he stepped back, smoothing himself down. “Done?”

Though they were both still pouting, they nodded.

San couldn’t help but smile at them. “Alright. Be safe. I’ll get going now.”

He ran a glance over the room once more, just to make sure that no teeth were out and that everyone seemed happy—yeah, they seemed quite happy indeed. His face heating up, San headed for the door.

As soon as he was outside, the door shut, all the sounds ceased.

He could still smell them, though. They’d scented him so strongly that he could actually smell it radiating from his skin, an altogether very pleasant experience. San lifted a hand, rubbing lightly at his neck like that would make their scents linger for a longer time.

As soon as he reached the kitchen, San realized that he’d forgotten to bring them water.

He hurried and filled a large jug with water before turning to head back.

As soon as he turned, he tripped. The jug went flying to the floor, and San along with it.

Glass shattered around him as he went down, pain flaring in his ankle.

It hurt.

San screwed his eyes shut, breathing, breathing, breathing—he’d be fine, he’d be fine.

He opened them slowly and sat up, wincing at the pain in his neck, back and arms before looking around.

By some miracle, he’d managed to avoid most of the glass. The water had pooled around his feet, red leaching into it—

Why was it red?

Eyes widening, San looked down.

Oh.

He’d twisted his ankle, he was pretty sure, and that pain had been so instant and so intense that he hadn’t even noticed the piece of glass lodged in the back of his foot, blood dripping from it, onto the floor.

Well, fuck.

He had to pull it out, right?

He pushed off from his good foot and grabbed the kitchen towel, before settling back down and getting ready.

Grabbing the jagged end of the glass, he took in a few deep breaths.

Okay. One, two, three—

San almost screamed.

He let the glass fall to the floor, putting a hand over his mouth to muffle the sobs. Quickly, he tied the kitchen towel around his foot, keeping the blood from flowing too much.

Once his vision had righted, he looked around. He grabbed the kitchen towel and stood, backing away from the glass carefully. Thankfully, that one shard had been the extent of it, he’d managed to avoid the rest of the glass.

Hopping around on his one good foot, he cleaned up the glass pieces and the water and the blood, throwing everything away. By the time he was settled down on the sofa with an ice pack pressed to his ankle, you wouldn’t even have been able to tell that anything had happened.

Well, except for the bloody towel around his ankle, but that was irrelevant.

He’d taken a painkiller, so when it finally kicked in, he was able to think clearly. The rest of his members were still inside, still wrapped up in each other—

No one had come for him.

***

San sat down in the van with no small amount of relief.

He stretched his foot a bit, wiggling his toes. The pain hadn’t quite gone away since day before yesterday, so he hoped he’d be able to manage today.

The others’ cycles had ended yesterday, so they’d been given the day to rest. San had spent most of it in bed, keeping his foot still. He’d been too tired to eat, to do anything more than just lie there. And today they were coming back out for…dance lessons.

It was going to be a nightmare.

San hadn’t ever told the others what had happened—he wasn’t angry about it, because he knew that they weren’t ever paying attention to anything outside the room when they were in heat or rut. They probably hadn’t even heard the crash with how soundproofed it was.

He just…didn’t want them to feel guilty. They would, he knew.

So here he was, walking into the company building slowly to try and hide his limp.

“San-ah?” Seonghwa-hyung asked carefully. “You know, you don’t have to go in if you don’t want to—we can take the day off.”

San’s heart thumped in shock for a moment—had they realized? Before he remembered what had happened a few days ago. He smiled. “No, I’m fine.” They were so sweet, trying to keep his feelings in mind.

Unofrtinately, it was a group dance lesson, so San couldn’t even keep his pain private. Every little movement made his foot twinge, the cut sting. He could hardly focus.

The others tried to keep the mood up as the hours passed, but he could see that they were getting confused as well. They’d just gotten out of a tiring cycle, and they wanted to go home to rest too. They didn’t say anything, though, probably thinking that it was something to do with that creepy instructor.

San wasn’t sure what hurt more, his foot, or their consideration.

The fifth time he tripped, the instructor sighed. “San-ah, are you the one who was in heat or rut? Even the others aren’t making so many mistakes.”

San bowed quickly. “I’m sorry.”

He could see the uncertain looks around him—his group members probably agreed with their teacher, because as far as they knew San had no real reason to be so out of it, except for the creepy instructor incident.

San gritted his teeth. He’d do better.

Except he didn’t.

There was a spin, and he thought he could do it, he really did, but he was his leg hurt, and he was so dizzy—

San went crashing to the floor.

His ankle was burning.

There were shouts around them, but his ears were ringing, tears springing to his eyes at the sheer pain. He couldn’t really hear or see anything, dark spots appearing in his vision even as hands prodded at his body.

Everything sounded like he was underwater, eyes slip and sliding open and shut.

It all passed in a daze after that.

He was pretty sure he was in the air, arms around him, but then suddenly he was lying on something hard, loud sounds in the background. There was something—ice, ice, cold, and a prick in his arm, so much that it was only making San’s head spin worse.

His vision went black.

***

“So what’s wrong with him?” Manager-hyung asked, arms crossed.

San shifted in his hospital bed, feeling awkward under so many stares on him.

He’d woken up in the hospital with kind doctors and nurses, an IV in his arm. The doctor had asked him to move his foot in various directions before calling in his manager and the members to give his official diagnosis.

The doctor straightened. “The most pressing concern is his ankle. I believe it’s twisted, though it doesn’t seem like the injury occurred  today. It seems old. Then there’s a large gash along the back of his foot. We had to give stitches.”

San looked at his foot, covered in blankets. He must’ve been unconscious during the stitches part.

“Aside, he has low blood sugar, which was the reason behind him fainting.”

Manager-hyung nodded. “What treatment should we give?”

“He can be discharged today, it’s not an urgent case. I’d suggest about two weeks of rest for the ankle, and incidentally we can take care of the stitches in two weeks as well.”

San stared at him. Two whole weeks?

How had he messed up this badly?

Manager-hyung sighed and nodded. “Thank you.”

The doctor left them in privacy, and then San had to bear the full force of eight concerned glares.

“Yah, what on earth happened to you?” Mingi asked.

San fidgeted. “I—I haven’t been eating well for the past few days. I was just tired.”

Hongjoong-hyung sighed. “We’ll monitor your food intake for a while then. What about your foot? What happened?”

San bit his lip. “It was—day before yesterday, you guys were still on your cycles. I was getting water for you when I dropped the jug, and I tripped, and—I twisted my ankle then and got a bit of glass in my leg.”

“Why didn’t you tell us anything?” Seonghwa-hyung said, soft and sad.

San shrugged. “I didn’t think it was that bad. I thought if I put some ice it would be fine in a few days, so there was no need to worry you all.”

“How could you think that—” Wooyoung started furiously, but he was cut off by their manager.

“Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong-hyung clasped his hands together, head tilted slightly downwards.

“I know you’re not bonded yet, but you are the unofficial pack alpha. Regardless of whether you were in rut, you should have been keeping a close eye on all your packmates, including San.”

Hongjoong-hyung bowed. “I know. It’s my fault, hyung. I’ll do better from now on.”

As San stared, the rest of his members chimed in with apologies and promises to be more attentive in the future, which was—ridiculous. “Hyung, it’s not Hongjoong-hyung’s fault,” he protested. “He’s not even really my pack alpha, so there’s no need to blame him.”

They all stared at him.

“What do you mean I’m not really your pack alpha?” Hongjoong-hyung demanded.

San shrank back. “I just mean—I’m not really part of the pack, so it’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.”

They stared at him some more.

“Hyung,” Seonghwa-hyung said faintly, turning to their manager, who looked stunned. “Can you give us a few minutes to discuss this in private?”

Manager-hyung nodded. “San-ah, listen to what they say carefully,” he said, giving San a flat look for some reason before leaving the room.

“What do you mean you’re not really part of the pack, hyung?” Jongho asked quietly.

San looked down, twisting his fingers together. “I just—I’m a beta, so I know you’re not really going to bond me some day—you don’t have to feel sorry for me or anything, I’ve known it for a long time, so don’t—don’t pretend like—”

“What on earth are you saying?”

San looked up, meeting Yunho’s wide, angry eyes.

The alpha’s jaw worked. “San-ah, is that—is that what you’ve been thinking this whole time?”

“San-ah,” Yeosang said quietly. “Really?”

“Are you insane?” Wooyoung said, his voice rising. “You think you’re not part of this pack? You think you’re not our pack member just because you’re a beta?”

San stared at him, getting defensive because how could they act like he’d said anything out of the ordinary? “When have you ever acted like I’m part of your pack?”

Wooyoung fell silent, lips parted.

“San-ah,” Hongjoong-hyung said, face drawn. “What do you mean by that?”

San looked at him, at all of them, no idea why they looked so shocked. “You never scent, you never ask me to be part of your cycles, you’ve never acted like you were even slightly attracted to me—how am I part of your pack? What was I supposed to think?”

 He watched, slowly, as Hongjoong-hyung slid his hands over his face.

“San-ah,” Seonghwa-hyung said, and to his horror San saw tears in his hyung’s eyes. “Sannie, we never knew you felt this way.”

He looked around the room, more confused that angry now, to see that everyone looked similarly heartbroken. Just what was going on? “What? Why are you crying?”

“San-ah, I’m so sorry,” Yunho said roughly.

“For what?” San asked, completely bewildered.

Jongho squeezed his hand. “Hyung, just—just hear us out, will you?”

San stared at him and nodded.

“You’re not wrong,” Wooyoung said finally, his voice quiet. “It is because you’re a beta. But not in the way you’re thinking.”

Hongjoong-hyung removed his hands from his face, looking like he’d aged about ten years. “It’s our fault. We’d never really been close to any betas, any of us. And hardly any that were part of packs. We thought you wouldn’t want it.”

What?

“Of course we wanted you to be part of our pack,” Mingi said, eyes wide and earnest. “We always have.”

“We thought you didn’t want us back,” Yeosang said, eyes downcast. “You never seemed like you wanted to be part of our cycles either, and you were uncomfortable when we scented you, back at the beginning—”

“I was uncomfortable because I was trying to hide how I felt for you all,” San said quietly, some pieces coming together now. “I didn’t want to fall any deeper for you guys because I thought you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

“You—you had feelings for us too?” Jongho asked, big, hopeful eyes making him look younger.

San sighed. “Have. How could I—I could never get over you.”

“But you kept hanging out with Changbin,” Yunho said, eyebrows furrowed. “You came back, smelling like him all the time, and—”

“We thought we didn’t have a chance with you after that,” Yeosang said, nodding. “We thought you were going to end up bonded to him, or to Stray Kids.”

“To Stray Kids?” San practically shrieked.

Wooyoung let out a wet laugh at that. “We never thought you were interested in packs, so with Changbin—I thought you liked him and didn’t even see us as potential partners.”

“Oh,” San said softly. “I didn’t know—no, Changbin knows how I feel about you. He—” he blushed. “He was trying to make you all jealous.”

“He succeeded,” Seonghwa-hyung said dryly, cutting a look at Yunho, who went red.

They all laughed a little at that.

San tipped his head against the wall, sighing. “So—this whole time, you guys thought I didn’t want to be part of your pack. And I thought you guys didn’t want me in yours.”

“What, did you really think we’d all bond each other and just—leave you out?” Wooyoung asked, soft, incredulous.

San shrugged, unable to look at him. “I thought I’d always be with you as a friend, as a member of ATEEZ. I thought I could be okay with that—live like that.”

“Oh, San-ah,” Seonghwa-hyung breathed. His long fingers ruffled through San’s hair. “I’m sorry we made you feel like that.”

“I’m sorry I acted like I was interested in Changbin and not you,” San said, giving them a sheepish look.

Mingi snorted. “We were all so upset—I mean, you’d pick Changbin? Over us?”

“Over me?” Wooyoung added. “I couldn’t believe it. I’ve never lost a boyfriend to Seo Changbin in my life.”

San rolled his eyes. “Changbinnie’s a good person.”

“No, don’t praise him,” Hongjoong-hyung said, putting a hand over his heart. “You’re banned from doing that for the next decade. My heart can’t take it.”

“I agree with this motion,” Yunho said, putting his hand up.

“Of course you do,” Yeosang muttered dryly.

That and Yunho’s glare made them all burst into laughter. San fell into Jongho’s shaking shoulders, Seonghwa-hyung’s hand still in his hair.

They spent the time there until San was discharged on crutches. The others had wanted a wheelchair, but he’d steadfastly refused that. Manager-hyung checked that everything was resolved before ruffling San’s hair and telling him to be less of an idiot, and then driving them all back to the dorm.

San was being treated like a glass doll as he was seated on the sofa. He could foresee much of that happening over the next two weeks.

“Can I scent you?” Yeosang murmured, hand hovering over San’s shoulders.

San looked up at him, wide-eyed.

Yeosang shrugged, somewhere between awkward and bashful. “You said we didn’t scent you, but—I want to. Can I?”

It took only a moment for San to nod. “Yes. Yes, please.”

Yeosang’s lips turned up a small amount as he sat beside San. San tilted his head easily, let Yeosang’s fingers dance over his neck lightly before he leaned in, nose and lips gentle.

“Wait, I want to scent you,” Mingi complained.

“Too bad, I got here first,” Yeosang murmured against San’s neck.

San squirmed, ticklish. Looking above Yeosang’s head, he could see that Mingi was pouting. “You can do it after Yeosangie,” he said.

“I want to do it now,” Mingi said. Without warning, he sat on San’s other side, curling a hand into San’s hair and pulling his neck backward.

San yelped as Mingi began nosing along his jaw, breath hot on San’s skin.

“Hang, on this isn’t fair!” Wooyoung exclaimed. “What about me?”

“You mean what about the rest of us,” Jongho corrected.

San glanced at the hyungs and Yunho for help.

Hongjoong-hyung sighed. “Alright, everyone make a line.”

San gaped at him. This was the exact opposite of what he’d meant. “Hyung!”

“What?” Hongjoong-hyung said, putting his hands up. “We didn’t know we could scent you before and we do now!”

Seonghwa-hyung nodded intensely. “Do you know how much time we missed out on? We have years of scenting to catch up on!”

“And you can’t even move,” Wooyoung said deviously. “So you’re have no choice but to sit there and take it.” He smiled like a movie villain.

San stared. “You’re being so creepy right now.”

Wooyoung pouted. “I just want to scent you, shut up.”

“Wait your turn,” Mingi grunted.

“Hyung, Mingi isn’t moving!” Wooyoung cried, spinning to Seonghwa-hyung.

“Neither is Yeosang,” Yunho grumbled, eyes fixed on where Yeosang was smiling smugly into San’s neck.

San sighed. This was really his life from now on, wasn’t it.

He loved it.

Chapter Text

“Hyung, come on,” Jongho said softly, tugging San by the hand, all the way into the doorway of the pack room.

“You’re sure?” San asked, fidgeted.

The rest of his members—no, his pack—were scattered around on the bed in various stages of undress. Though no one was fully naked yet, thankfully.

 “I’ve wanted this since I saw you,” Wooyoung said plainly. “Of course I’m sure.”

“The question is, are you sure?” Hongjoong-hyung asked.

“We don’t want to make you uncomfortable, San-ah,” Seonghwa-hyung added.

“No, I’m—I’m okay,” San said, hand in Jongho’s grip all clammy. “I want to be here too, I’m just—nervous,” he exhaled.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” Mingi said, looking serious for once. “We all were. Don’t push yourself, alright?”

Yunho, beside him, nodded. “Yeah, you can do anything you want. If you want to touch us, we’ll all be happy with that. If you want to just watch, that’s fine. And if you want to leave, that’s perfectly okay too.”

San’s heart warmed at the agreeing nods, at everyone seemingly open and acceptable about any choice he wanted to make. He couldn’t have asked for a better pack.

“I’ll stay,” he decided. “And…we’ll see how it goes.”

Yeosang smiled at him. “Good.”

He shifted in place. “So…how do you guys normally start?”

“Kissing,” Jongho said bluntly. He was looking straight at San.

San went breathless. “…uh,” he said intelligently.

Jongho chuckled. “Want to kiss me, hyung?”

San nodded impatiently. Jongho kissed him, moving them both slowly towards the bed. San wasn’t paying much attention, letting himself be led, more focused on the feel of Jongho’s soft lips against his own.

He’d kissed them all by now. They’d been treating him with far too much care to do anything else while his ankle healed, and after that they were caught up with the comeback and promotions for anything more to happen.

Until now, when the others were finally on their cycles.

Well, they were almost there. At the very last stages of pre right now, so they weren’t in the thick of it just yet.

So all in all, this would be the first time San would be with…anyone. And it was with the seven men he’d been hopelessly in love with for years.

San’s knees hit the bed, buckling. He fell onto it, finally detaching from Jongho. The others were all smiling at them.

Hongjoong-hyung’s hand landed on his thigh.

San yelped. Then he coughed, embarrassed. “Hi.”

“You don’t have to be so jumpy,” Yunho chuckled, coming up behind him. “It’s just us.”

“Says the person who kissed him without asking. Took his first kiss too,” Wooyoung pointed out.

“Would you guys please let that go!” Yunho complained.

They all snickered. “Never,” Seonghwa-hyung said, unnecessarily dramatic.

It was fun to tease Yunho, and it had an added bonus of making San relax somewhat. These were his members. His pack. He could be comfortable around them.

…all this comfort disappeared when they began stripping.

“Just one second!” San shrieked, covering his eyes with his hands to protect them from the lengths of exposed torsos.

“You know you’ve already seen all this before, right?” Yeosang asked dryly.

“Yes, well, I was trying very hard not to look back then!” San exclaimed. He hadn’t succeeded, but they didn’t need to know that.

Jongho patted his head. “We know, hyung.”

San peeked over his fingers slowly, getting another glimpse of—oh god, skin and abs and waistline disappearing into boxers—and shoved his hands over his face again.

“You know you have to look at us to have sex, right?” Hongjoong-hyung asked.

“Don’t say it like that!” San said, much to their seeming amusement. “And, I mean, I don’t have to. Maybe you could just blindfold me or something.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Oh my god,” Mingi said.

San looked up in time to see Hongjoong-hyung blinking rapidly. “Maybe next time, San-ah.”

…okay?

“So,” he said, moving on. “Do I have to—you know.” His hands were hovering at the hem of his shirt, and this was ridiculous, they’d all seen him undressed during quick change and all so there was no need for him to be acting this shy.

But this was different. The mood in the room and their stares, and…San shivered.

“If you want to,” Yeosang said. “It’s up to you.”

Seonghwa-hyung nodded. “San-ah, if you really don’t want to do this, you don’t have to.”

San lowered his eyes, unable to look any of them in the face for what he was about to say next. “No, I—I want to, I just. I haven’t ever done anything besides kissing, and that’s only with you guys. I don’t know what I’m doing—I’ve never done anything before.”

There was another moment of silence.

Then Wooyoung groaned loudly. “Fuck.”

Jongho cleared his throat loudly. “Ah, hyung, don’t worry about not knowing what to do.”

Mingi nodded, looking a bit dazed. “Yeah, we’ll guide you through it.”

“Come here,” Hongjoong-hyung said, patting the top of the bed.

San dragged himself upward until he was resting against the headboard, legs crooked. “Um.”

“I’m going to kiss you,” Hongjoong-hyung said seriously. “And if you want, we can start taking off our clothes.”

San nodded. “You can—uh—you can do that. And mine too. If you want.”

Mingi dropped his head into his hands.

Seonghwa-hyung shook his head slowly. “You’re going to be the death of us, Choi San.”

San looked back at Hongjoong-hyung and squeaked when he saw that he’d come even closer. The rut was probably coming into full force now, from the red flush on his cheeks. “Push me away at anytime,” he murmured, and then connected their lips.

As Hongjoong-hyung nipped and licked at San’s lips slowly, his hands began creeping to San’s waistline. San didn’t push him away as he began lifting the shirt, disconnecting for a moment to pull it off San’s head.

“Hyung, you’re so pretty,” Jongho said reverently.

San looked over and nearly passed out when he saw that Jongho was naked already. As was everyone else.

“You okay over there, San-ah?” Yunho asked.

“I think I’m having a heart attack,” he whispered. Then he glared. “Why are you all laughing? I’m serious!”

Yeosang patted his head, biceps in San’s direct line of sight. “Of course you are.”

San pouted.

Hongjoong-hyung laughed. “Do you want to stop here?”

San shook his head. “No, we can—we can do more.”

Hongjoong-hyung leaned in and kissed him again, hands this time fumbling at the waist of San’s pants. San tried to focus on the kiss and not his shyness, lifting his hips so Hongjoong-hyung could pull his pants and underwear down at the same time, sliding them off his ankles.

Hongjoong-hyung pulled away, and San looked past him to see the rest of them looking at his body, gazes dark.

He yelped and pulled his knees up to his chest. “Don’t—don’t stare like that.”

“We can’t really help it,” Hongjoong-hyung said. “Look at you.” San didn’t resist as hyung pulled his legs open slowly.

Mingi cleared his throat. “So—uh—how do you want to do this?” He asked, voice low.

 San fidgeted, Hongjoong-hyung’s hand still keeping him open. “I don’t know. I mean, I’ve—I’ve fingered myself before but, that’s about it.”

In the ensuing silence, Wooyoung exhaled harshly. “Fuck.” San watched as he crawled forward, face within inches of San. “Will you let me fuck you?”

San let out an involuntary, embarrassing whimper. “I—yes. Yes, please.”

Wooyoung squeezed his eyes shut. “Now I’m the one having a heart attack.”

“Wait, how come Wooyoung-hyung gets to go first?” Jongho said.

Wooyoung swung around to glare at him. “Because he can’t take an alpha knot his first time, you idiot, you guys will literally split him in half.”

None of the alphas looked like they were particularly opposed to that.

San swallowed. “I—uh—I’ll go with Wooyoungie, if that’s okay.”

“It’s perfectly fine,” Jongho said. “Whatever you want.”

Opposed to him, Mingi was pouting. “Will you let us open you up at least?”

San let out another, completely involuntary, squeak.

Yunho shifted towards him. “Yeah, let us open you up for Wooyoungie.” His hand landed on San’s knee.

San looked at his big, big fingers. Somewhat in a daze, he nodded.

“Good boy,” Yunho said, tugging at his legs. San let him pull until he was lying flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

There was something wet at his rim. He shrieked loudly.

“San-ah, relax, okay?” Seonghwa-hyung said.

“I can’t!” He cried. “You’re all looking at me and I—”

“Okay, okay, we’re not looking at you,” Hongjoong-hyung soothed. He pulled Yeosang into a soft kiss, turning away from San.

The rest of them followed his lead, kissing and biting each other. San could still see frequent glances thrown at him, but he figured that this was the best he was going to get.

Except Yunho and Mingi. They were looming down over him, broad chests and shoulders.

“Don’t be scared,” Yunho said, one hand petting his hair. “We’ll take care of you, okay?”

San nodded mutely.

He didn’t resist as one of them pulled his legs apart a bit more, and held still as a finger circled his rim. He bit his lip as it sank in slowly.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Mingi said, grimacing, answering the question of who it was exactly.

He wiggled it around a bit, going in deeper.

San gasped. “Oh my god. Your hands are—so—so big.”

“Well, you have tiny little fingers, of course you think so,” Yunho chuckled. San wasn’t sure, but he thought that it was Yunho’s hand ghosting along his inner thighs.

Mingi didn’t rush, taking his time with just that one finger to open San up, crooking it in just the right ways to make San jolt. On the next slide in, there were two fingers.

San couldn’t help the little noises he made as Mingi scissored them inside him. Yunho was leaning down and kissing him through it, muffling San’s moans with his lips.

Until Mingi called for him. “Yunho.”

San watched, confused, as Yunho broke away with a little smile, shifting down to sit beside Mingi. He only understood when, a moment later, a third finger bullied its way inside him.

“Oh!” He threw his head back, face screwing. “Wait, wait, wait—it’s so much, please—”

“I think he might not even be able to take your cock, Wooyoung,” Mingi hissed. “You’re really fucking tight, San-ah.”

San whimpered, wriggling around their fingers. Though it hurt, his cock was hard and leaking onto his belly already. “Okay, you can—you can move.”

They began moving, first slowly and then fast, soon hitting San’s prostate with every thrust. San was bucking up helplessly, heat pooling in his gut. This was so, so much better than his own fingers, Yunho and Mingi working him over effortlessly, and San was in heaven.

“Hyung, you’re so noisy already, I wonder how you’ll sound when Wooyoung-hyung fucks you,” Jongho said. He was leaning over San, gummy smile a complete contrast to his filthy words.

San yelped when Jongho pinched one of his nipples.

Jongho chuckled, tugging and rubbing on both of his nipples, each brush of his fingers sending sparks straight to San’s groin.

He’d never felt like this, it was so much, the best thing San had ever felt before— “Ah, ah, I’m going to—”

He moaned loud, arching up and spilling all over himself, the pleasure ongoing  because of Yunho and Mingi and Jongho and their devious hands making San writhe and shiver.

The silence when it  was over was telling.

San’s face burned. He shoved his hands over it as Yunho and Mingi pulled out of him slowly, leaving him empty. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he said quickly. “I just—it’s never felt that good before, and—”

Why was everyone groaning at that?

“That’s so fucking hot,” Seonghwa-hyung said, voice deeper than San had ever heard it before.

“San-ah, do you want to stop here?” Hongjoong-hyung asked. “It’s okay if you do.”

San shook his head stubbornly, daring to look up and relieved to see that none of them were making fun of him for coming so fast. “No, I—” He looked at Wooyoung. “I want you to fuck me. Please.”

Wooyoung’s pupils were blown wide, the heat probably coming over him. He smirked. “Whatever you want, Sannie.”

San laid there, watching his scoot over, tanned body hovering over San’s own. His cocky expression melted into something more tender, a hand cradling San’s neck. “You’re sure, right?”

San nodded, staring up at him. “I’m sure, Youngie.”

“Alright, then,” Wooyoung whispered softly. He kept his eyes locked with San even as he angled his cock at San’s rim and pushed in, ever so slow.

Wooyoung was an omega, so his cock wasn’t as big as the alphas’, but it still felt fucking huge, filling San up and making him gasp around every little movement, pleasure and pain in equal measures.

San was so glad one of his alphas hadn’t been his first time. They really would have split him in half, he couldn’t imagine how much it would’ve hurt.

“Wait,” he said, panting, gripping Wooyoung’s arms.

“I’ll wait as long as you need,” Wooyoung said, smoothing down his hair, even though his heat kicking in must’ve been making him desperate too. “Take your time.”

“Just breathe, San-ah,” Yeosang said, fingers carding through San’s hair.

San tried to follow that advice, taking deep breaths around Wooyoung’s cock, waiting until the pushing pressure feeling of too much too much too much started fading. Wooyoung’s hips twitched a bit and he moaned. “Okay, I’m—you can keep going.”

Wooyoung started off with a few slow, deep thrusts, letting San get used to it, before building up to it. San could feel his cock hardening again despite the sensitivity.

This was even better than the fingers—better than anything.

“Wooyoungie’s making you feel good, huh?” Yeosang asked, looking down at him tenderly.

San nodded. “So—so good,” he gasped. He turned his head a bit to look at Yeosang properly, ending up nuzzling his face into the boy’s wet, hard crotch. “Oh.”

“I think he’s a little interested in your dick, Yeosang-ah,” Wooyoung snickered.

San blushed. But still, he couldn’t stop looking away from it, even as Wooyoung fucked him harder. Yeosang was big for an omega, not quite alpha size but big enough for San, red and dripping and really, really close to San’s face.

“Do you want to suck him off?” Seonghwa-hyung cooed.

San jerked, going wide-eyed. “I—”

“You can, if you want to,” Wooyoung agreed, grinning like the devil.

“I don’t—know how,” San mumbled.

“That’s okay,” Yeosang said, brushing through his hair. “I’ll take you through it, if you want to.”

San swallowed, still staring at it. “Uh huh.”

Mingi laughed. “I think that’s a yes.”

“Is it a yes, Sannie?” Hongjoong-hyung asked. “You have to say it, baby.”

San squirmed around Wooyoung’s cock, still staring at Yeosang’s. “I—uh. Yes.”

“Good.” Wooyoung pulled out of him slowly, making San whine. He laughed. “Be patient.” He wrapped his big hands around San’s hips, pulling him up and over so that San was on his hands and knees, facing Yeosang.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Yeosang said teasingly, but his smile was gentle. “Don’t push yourself, okay?”

San nodded obediently.

“Shall we give the alphas a show?” Seonghwa-hyung asked suddenly. San looked around to see that he had come up behind Wooyoung, hunching over Wooyoung’s frame for an obvious reason.

“Hang on, that’s not fair,” Jongho protested.

Seonghwa-hyung turned, giving the four of them an innocent smile. “You’re not allowed to touch.”

“That’s even more not fair!” Yunho complained.

Seonghwa-hyung smiled even more angelically. “Deal with it.”

San giggled, turning back to Yeosang. “So, uh.”

“Just lick around it first,” Yeosang said.

San did. He wasn’t completely unaware of what to do, he’d seen videos and read up articles during the three months before this heat, because, well—he knew he had to be prepared.

Just as he was sucking on the tip, Wooyoung shoved back into him.

San yelped, pulling off quickly before his teeth could graze Yeosang’s skin.

Yeosang hissed. “Give some warning, Wooyoung, he could’ve bit my dick off.”

“Sorry,” Wooyoung said, not sounding sorry in the slightest. Perhaps because Seonghwa-hyung was sliding into him now.

San went back down, sucking on the tip and bobbing his head to go deeper the way he’d seen. Through it all, Wooyoung kept fucking him, and Yeosang kept a hand on his hair to guide him, pulling him off if he did anything wrong.

Saliva was pooling in his mouth, dripping down Yeosang’s shaft as Wooyoung fucked him, every thrust sending Yeosang’s cock deeper down San’s throat. And when Seonghwa-hyung began thrusting, it was like both of them were fucking him at once, and San really couldn’t take it.

He moaned around Yeosang’s cock, desperate cries only barely muffled by it. The alphas didn’t sound much better, groaning at every movement. San would feel bad for them, but he didn’t have the brainpower to think about anything more than oh my god it feels so good.

He couldn’t even focus on Yeosang, and the other boy had to tighten his fingers in San’s hair, pulling him down onto his cock. San went limp, letting Yeosang and Wooyoung fuck into him, letting the pleasure take him completely. He couldn’t hold back his moans, or his tears, only Yeosang and Wooyoung’s hands on him keeping him tethered.

“You guys look so pretty,” Jongho said.

“He’s right. The four of you are stunning,” Hongjoong-hyung agreed.

“You look perfect with us, Sannie,” Seonghwa-hyung said.

San couldn’t help it. He began to cry.

There was an immediate round of concern, everyone slowing down. Yeosang pulled him up to free his mouth. “San-ah, what happened?”

San shook his head, sniffing. “Nothing, I’m just—really happy.”

Yeosang’s face softened. “Oh, Sannie.” He leaned in to kiss San, slow and hot, as Wooyoung and Seonghwa-hyung picked up pace again.

Yeosang kissed San all through his orgasm, even after Wooyoung came inside him, before pulling away.

“Fuck,” San breathed, dropping to the bed, entire body limp and cum trailing out of him.

“Yup,” Wooyoung agreed, laying down. His lower body was also a mess of fluids, but—San’s eyes widened at the side of his cock, not quite soft. Wooyoung caught his gaze and laughed. “It’s the heat.”

“That’s insane,” San murmured. “I don’t think I can even move.”

Wooyoung smirked. “Glad to hear that.”

San rolled his eyes but didn’t shoot back, because it was in fact mostly thanks to Wooyoung. He looked to see that the alphas had finally been allowed to move, fucking the other two omegas, and shooed Wooyoung over to join them, assuring him that San wouldn’t feel lonely.

He watched them for a while, just breathing, too tired to get aroused at them.

He was really here.

How long had he wanted this, to be part of a pack, this pack specifically? And now he was in the pack room, welcomed instead of as someone desperately trying to hide how bad he wanted to be here, and it felt—amazing.

Really amazing.

He was pretty sure the smile on his face was getting dopey by the time his body decided it could move again. He’d just barely slipped off the bed before there were a couple of whines.

Laughing, he turned back to the others. “I’m just going to go clean up and get food and water for us all, okay?”

“You don’t have to do that,” Yunho said quietly.

They hadn’t been aware that San was the one doing the household chores while they were in heat, as San had recently realized. They’d thought the help and delivery was coming, but then San had pointed out how agitated they got when there was even a whiff of a non-pack scent during their cycles.

They’d all been guilty even though San really didn’t mind. “I don’t have to, but I want to,” he said. “I can. And I’ll be back before you know. Also—” He stretched his hands above his head, wincing. “I should probably get a heat pack for my back, I think Wooyoungie broke it.”

“He does tend to do that,” Hongjoong-hyung groused, shooting Wooyoung a dirty look.

Wooyoung smiled smugly.

San left, cleaning himself up in the bathroom before throwing on one of Seonghwa-hyung’s long shirts and nothing else. He cut up some fruits and filled up water, being very careful not to fall or slip anywhere, and made his way back to the pack room.

Things were about dying down now, everyone knotted and sated. San put the food down and slipped back into bed, letting Jongho nose into him, apparently trying to scent San in his sleep also. The rest of his pack—his pack—were in various stages of falling asleep, eyes half lidded and arms curled around each other.

He sighed, unbearably happy. He could’ve stayed in this moment forever.

Jongho’s arms tightened. “Hyung, you won’t leave, will you?” He whispered into San’s neck.

San nuzzled into his hair. “Never. I could never.”