Chapter Text
Jeongin feels great when he wakes in the morning. He flops onto his back, stretching his limbs to all the corners of his queen sized bed. Sunlight peeks through the curtains where they’re parted, just near the top of the window. His bangs flop into his eyes as he collapses back onto the mattress and he grumbles.
Lifting his hand to his face, he uses the edge of his palm to drag his bangs back from his forehead, wincing as his hand passes over his skin.
With the hair out of the way, his fingers move over the painful area, finding a small bump to the left, near the middle of his forehead, just above the bridge of his nose. The small bump feels a little warm, and when he touches it, a fission of pain has him frowning.
He hasn’t felt anything like that in a long time.
Jeongin has a whole skin cleaning regime to prevent exactly this sort of thing. His well stocked medicine cabinet of cleansers, toners, and serums are a testament to his devotion to skin care.
He really doesn’t want to get out of bed, though he needs to take a piss. The mirror should be avoided at all costs. He doesn’t need to confirm his suspicions.
At least it’s early on Saturday and he still has that spa gift certificate from Jisung. If he can get in and have a facial treatment, it should subside by Monday, so he doesn’t have to head into work with an unsightly puss filled mound of reddened skin tarnishing the landscape of his elegant forehead.
With a groan, Jeongin rises from the bed, shoves his feet into his house slippers and drags himself over to the bathroom. The footfalls of his slippers slap against the tile floor as he makes his way to the toilet. He averts his gaze as he pisses in the toilet. The swell of the pup is starting to interfere with his ability to aim his dick, and he frowns, wondering if he’ll have to start sitting to pee if he doesn’t want to end up aiming as poorly as some of the students he teaches. Just another thing he never conceived he would have to deal with while pregnant.
The moment of truth comes as he’s washing his hands. His eyes glance upwards and sure enough, there it is. Acne. An irritated volcano waiting to erupt on his forehead. Jeongin sighs, turns off the water, dries his hands and stumbles back into his bedroom to snatch his phone from beside his bed as he flops back onto the mattress.
He has been betrayed by his own body. He’s not had a pimple since he was a teenager! His skin is well cared for. Every morning, every night, he washes, tones, applies serums and creams to prevent this sort of break out! His faithful administration of all his expensive face products have paid dividends in clear, soft and supple skin for years.
Thumbing through his contacts, he finds the kakao talk set up with his omega hyungs. With the spas segregated by secondary genders, only Jisung and Felix would be able to accompany him. Scent blockers are also required, and dinner with Felix had gone well. Jisung would be there too, so Jeongin’s not worried about a recurrence of what happened at the restaurant.
Hyungs, do you have time for a spa day? I woke up with a huge pimple and I need consolation.
Jeongin knows he’s being ridiculous. A pimple is nothing. It’s a skin irritant that will be gone in a week. But his hormones aren’t well balanced right now, which is likely why he has a pimple to begin with, and why he’s not dealing with it like he thinks he normally would have. If it gives him an excuse for a little pampering, so be it.
Thankfully, everyone is in agreement.
They arrive together at the jjimjilbang, where they’re quickly greeted and ushered into the omega section of the spa. The host provides them with lockers for their belongings, and silk lined terry cloth robes to wear.
It’s disorienting to be around Jisung and Felix while wearing scent blockers. Without the mix of fudge brownie and tart raspberry cheesecake, Jeongin almost feels as if he’s out with strangers. He didn’t think he would be so affected by the loss of familiar scents, but this leaves the impression of an uncanny valley, where he expects one thing, but he’s provided with something similar, but not quite the same.
On a regular day, he wouldn’t be phased by this at all. They’ve been to this spa before and he enjoyed it, not even giving the lack of scents a second thought. With the pregnancy, being surrounded by unfamiliar scents has him feeling uncomfortable and anxious. It would be logical that the lack of familiar scents might have him feeling the same way now. He tries to focus on the bright sunshine smile gracing Felix’s lips, and Jisung’s puffy cheeks and wide eyes, letting the signature aspects of their facial features soothe him.
“Oh, that’s pretty,” Felix says as Jeongin’s placing his folded shirt into his assigned locker, “and serviceable too. Soft cotton, wider shoulder straps. The rose gold colour suits you too.”
Jeongin can feel the blush spreading across his cheekbones.
“Is that one of the bras Minho-hyung bought for you?” Jisung asks.
Continuing to face the open locker, Jeongin tucks himself into the provided robe. It feels luxuriously smooth against his skin, the silk warming quickly as he ties the robe closed. “Mhmm.”
“He bought bras for Jeongin?”
Jeongin wants to crawl into the locker along with his belongings.
“Yup!” Jisung’s reply is energetic, with a popping sound accompanying the ‘p’. “I didn’t go into the lingerie store with him, but we spent a lot of time at the maternity store too.”
“You went with him?”
Jeongin can feel Felix’s interest, the sharp gaze weighing upon his shoulders. Jeongin’s not ready to face his friends. Instead, he sits down on the bench, facing the other way, so he can pull the stockings down his calves and off his feet. He shoves his feet into the provided slippers, hoping his cheeks will cool before he turns back to them.
“He said he wanted my advice,” Jisung clarifies, “but he didn’t really need me there. He’d already decided on darker colours and easier to clean fabrics. Not because you’re clumsy,” he’s quick to assure Jeongin, “but because you work with children.”
Minho hadn’t mentioned he’d actually gone out shopping. Jeongin thought he’d just purchased some items online. Though, do online purchases give gift receipts? He’s not sure. Probably. It would make sense, given how many things can be bought online these days.
Knowing Minho had provided him with clothing had Jeongin already feeling comfortable and cared for, and he’d thought Minho had just been scrolling through a website and picking items while watching anime. Realising that Minho had made a day of it, inviting Jisung for his advice, and had actively walked through not just a maternity store, but a lingerie store as well? Jeongin isn’t sure how to interpret that, but the warm sense of affection and security grows. Thank god for scent blockers being required in the spa, or he wouldn’t need to turn around for Jisung and Felix to know exactly how he’s feeling right now, even if he doesn’t want to apply a label to the emotions.
Felix laughs. “Channie-hyung and I are really going to have to up our game for your birthday present if we want to stay in the running for being Jeongin’s favourite hyung.”
Thinking of his now incredibly useful turtle pillow and the rosary hanging about his neck, Jeongin has to agree. Minho really does give the best presents. The kind that he would never think to buy for himself, but the ones that, somehow, are the things he needed the most.Jisung pats Jeongin’s shoulder. “I gave up competing a long time ago. I don’t think anyone can beat Minho-hyung in Jeongin-ah’s eyes.”
Squirming out from under Jisung’s hand, Jeongin stands to his full height and turns back to his friends, reddened cheeks be damned. “Are we ready?”
Felix leans forward to check something in Jeongin’s open locker. “Is that a pair of compression socks?”
Inwardly cursing, Jeongin closes the door quickly. He’s hoping to keep his tone bland, but his voice cracks. “Yu-up.”
The smile on Felix’s face grows and his eyes are lit with excitement. “Another gift from Minho-hyung?”
Jeongin clears his throat, praying his voice will remain steady. “He’d bought a couple pairs a while back for hiking trips. He said they’d reduce swelling, and help my blood circulation.” He wasn’t going to mention Minho had also said they’d help prevent varicose veins, or that the socks were still in their original packaging.
“You picked well, Jeongin-ah,” Felix coos as he pulls Jeongin into a hug and sways side to side with him. “Not saying that Changbin-hyung or Hyunjin or Seungmin wouldn’t have done well by you, but…”
Jisung glomps himself into the hug, likely so he doesn’t feel left out.
Jeongin suffers the embrace of the sunshine twins for a few moments before he peels them off and steps away. They can change the topic at any time. He would almost beg them to at this point.
“So, um…how is therapy going?” Jeongin tosses over his shoulder as he heads out of the change room and into the spa proper so they can sit in the sauna.
“It’s good,” Felix answers as he follows Jeongin. “I think we really needed it, even though we hadn’t considered it before. Grief counselling was offered, but we wanted to keep our grief private.” Jeongin hears Felix sigh, but it lends a sense of relief to Felix’s words. “We’ve never been closer. I love him so much, and that never stopped, but we weren’t talking, not about the important things.”
After their dinner together, Jeongin had the sense that things were getting better, but it’s such a relief to know that his hyungs were also finding healing in this process. The sense of comfort, of family and security, that Jeongin has experienced during his pregnancy has helped him to heal as well. “I’m glad, hyung.”
As they near the sauna, Jisung pipes up, “Wait, is it safe for you to be in a sauna, Jeongin-ah?”
“Minho-hyung texted me back when I told him where I’d be and said that now I’m in the second trimester, it should be fine. Just to be careful if I start to feel dizzy or overheated.” Shit, why did he have to mention Minho again? He really doesn’t want to deal with more questions, or cooing, or knowing looks from either Jisung or Felix. Acting quickly to try to distract them, he turns to Jisung as he’s opening the sauna door. “So, I saw you and Hyunjin-hyung were holding hands at the theatre, but he still showed up at the 3RACHA performance with a date. What’s up with that?”
As a good wingman, Felix steps through the door, and turns to Jisung as well. Jeongin can see Felix excitedly rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet as he asks, “Yeah, what’s up with that, Jisung?”
“I wish I knew!” Jisung wails as he slumps onto the bench in the sauna. “Don’t ask me about this. I know nothing. I don’t know what to do about it.”
“What do we want to eat when we’re done here then?” It seems Felix has more mercy for his near twin than he does for his dongsaeng, letting Jisung escape so easily. “Nothing spicy! I can’t handle it.”
Jeongin sighs, leaning against the wall of the sauna, the warm and damp air easing his sore and swollen joints. He rests his hands over his belly bump. “That’s fine by me. This pup really is yours and Channie-hyung’s. Anytime I eat something spicy, I’m full of regret.”
As Minho leans over to pick up his water bottle, he hears his knees pop and he frowns. Sweat drips down his face, landing on the vinyl floor as he scowls at his reflection in the wall length mirror of the dance studio. With his free hand, he lifts the hem of his tank top and wipes the sweat from his face. Minho is not at all concerned about revealing the scar on his stomach he usually hides. At this hour, he’s the only one in the studio, and perhaps the only one still in the company’s suite of rooms.
He’s spent the day trying to perfect this routine, while also trying not to be concerned about Jeongin and his well being. If Minho can’t trust Yongbok and Jisung with Jeongin, it would be tantamount to trusting no one other than himself. The outing will be good for Jeongin. He needs to spend time with other omegas, and Yongbok would benefit from being able to connect with Jeongin in a space that was scent controlled and away from Chan. Minho hopes there’s no resurgence of the jealousy that Yongbok and felt previously and they’re able to enjoy their time at the spa instead.
Jeongin’s not the only one to benefit from his outing though. Minho needs the time to put in extra hours at the studio so the winter showcase will be well received. He knows if he explained the circumstances, the other dance instructors would be willing to pick up his slack, but it’s not a position he wants to put them in. They all have their own families to care for, and he had a vision for this performance that he wants brought to life.
With a sigh, he moves across the room to where his phone is set up on a stand, recording his recent attempt to finalise the choreography for the intermediate hip hop class. He turns off the recording, then checks his notifications as he drinks his water. The moves felt good, and he liked the groove, but he rarely dances while facing the mirror, so the recording will tell him if everything went as smoothly as he thinks it did.
Even if the choreo works out the way he’d imagined, he’ll still need extra time in the weeks to come to teach the students, and attend rehearsals. Being realistic, Minho recognises that he’ll need to reach out to the others to help until after the showcase. He’ll start with Changbin and Seungmin, seeing if they can help out with transportation. Jisung and Hyunjin would be happy to keep Jeongin company while he’s busy in the evenings or weekends. He can start preparing some meals and put them in the freezer for easy reheating later, so he doesn’t have to fret about Jeongin eating ramyeon day after day. Jeongin needs protein and vegetables! Cup noodles have the nutritious value of cardboard. Minho will be damned if he lets Jeongin get scurvy.
There’s a message from Jeongin, and he smirks as he opens it to find a quick selfie of Jeongin with Yongbok and Jisung pressed to his sides. Jeongin’s hand is raised to his forehead, and while his eyes are looking up as if he’s exasperated, the grin displaying his straightened teeth tells a far different story.
Almost done at the spa. We’re going out for authentic ramyeon for dinner. Yongbok insisted on not the packaged or spicy kind. Hope you’re having a good day!
The message was sent an hour ago, which means if he watches the video, and all is well, then he’ll be able to make it back to the apartment before Jeongin gets home. He feels a smidgen of guilt that he’s relieved Chan won’t be seeing Jeongin today.
He snorts. How dare he be so worried about Yongbok feeling jealous, when the idea of Jeongin returning with Chan’s scent upon him raises Minho’s hackles? Chan would never do anything to betray Yongbok, nor would Jeongin even think of coming between them. Minho has no cause to feel this way. He and Jeongin are friends, nothing more, but he already knows he’ll only be satisfied if he’s able to spend time with Jeongin at the end of the day. His alpha needs to be rubbing his nose against the side of Jeongin’s neck, inhaling the fragrant apricot jam smothered sweet bread while surrounding Jeongin with a miasma of crisp mountain air, spiced with evergreens.
I’ll be headed back in the next half hour. Need me to pick up anything?
As he’s watching the playback, his phone dings with a notification. He knows it’s a reply from Jeongin, but he can’t break concentration as he’s analysing his movement quality and the musicality. So far, it looks good. He chops the end of the video where he’s not dancing and sends it over to Bada and Redy for review. No matter how good it looks to him, he always wants a second opinion. His students looking amazing on stage is more important than his ego.
Can you pick up some ginger rooibos tea?
Checking the time, Minho thinks he might be able to get to the store before it closes, but it’ll be tight.
I’ll swing by the store and see if it’s still open. Let yourself in if I’m not home yet and feel free to feed my brothers.
Okay hyung! I’ll head home right after dinner. 🐈🐈🐈⬛
Minho pockets his phone, gathers his water bottle and bag and heads down the brightly lit hallway towards the exit. The rest of the studios are dark, and only his jacket remains in the employee closet.
He’s lucky it hasn’t snowed while he was working, so he doesn’t have to spend precious time cleaning off his car before he heads to the store.
With only ten minutes before closing, he races around the store to pick up the tea and a couple other items he knows they’ll need in the next couple days. He smiles and apologises as he goes through the cashier line two minutes before closing.
Getting back in the car, he sends a quick missive before heading home.
Tea acquired. See you soon.
The apartment is still dark when he opens the door and he’s greeted by a chorus of m’rows. He almost trips over Dori as he makes his way into the apartment, unable to see the cats around his bag as he slips out of his shoes and tries to find his slippers. “Dori-yah, I’m going to step on your tail if you keep circling my ankles, and I don’t want to!”
The youngest cat issues a disgruntled sound and stalks away, tail high in the air as he moves towards the kitchen to join Soonie and Doongie, who are already sitting, tails twitching, waiting for dinner to be served. At least two out of three are well trained. Or is it Minho himself who is well trained, as he’s going to feed them first thing, not even taking his bag to the laundry room, or stopping for a shower?
He can hear the cats crunching their kibble as he takes his gym bag to dump most of the contents of worn dance clothes into the hamper. Shedding his clothing is the next priority so he can go take a quick shower, hoping he’ll be out of the shower, dry and dressed, before Jeongin drops by to pick up the tea.
As he turns off the water and grabs his towel, there’s some inquisitive m’rows followed by the sound of at least one cat jumping out of the cat tree to land heavily upon the wooden floor. While he can’t hear the words, the tone and timbre is Jeongin’s as he greets the cats. It’s similar to the one he uses when he speaks with his students, or any child Minho’s ever seen him interact with. It resonates with patience and empathy, providing a feeling of safety and acceptance.
Minho hadn’t given consideration to Jeongin arriving while he was still cleaning up. Or rather, he hadn’t thought about how it might be a good idea to bring a change of clothes into the bathroom with him so he wouldn’t have to wander through his apartment, clad only in a towel.
Normally, he didn’t give much thought to people seeing him out of his clothes. There have been far too many rushed costume changes backstage, all the dancers lined up behind the curtains doing their best to perform the minor miracle of two minute costume swaps and be back on stage in time. But that was a flurry of limbs and skin, and far too much concentration on getting changed to really catch more than a glimpse of anyone else.
But Jeongin isn’t a fellow dancer. He isn’t a dancer at all. And Minho has never walked around his friends half nude, even if Chan has desensitised most of them to that level of bare skin. Yongbok likes to joke that Chan’s allergic to shirts.
“Hyung?” The voice is muffled through the door and the steam in the bathroom air from the shower.
Minho startles. He’d been standing there, doing nothing, affronted and awkwardly contemplating his lack of forethought, when there is no other choice but to wrap a towel around himself and walk through the room. Jeongin or no Jeongin, he can’t stay in the bathroom forever.
He makes his way through the living room, not bothering to pause. He is neither going to greet or look at Jeongin right now. “I’ll be out in five minutes. The tea’s on the counter.”
Minho doesn’t rush. He doesn’t sprint or flee. He walks sedately across the room, keeping his eyes on the floor.
“Uh…al—alright.” Was that a stuttered response?
When Minho’s bedroom door closes behind him, he collapses against it and shudders a breath out in relief. His heart hammers in his chest, and he relaxes his hand which had clutched at the tucking of his towel about his waist like the hand of some old scandalised woman might at her pearls. The mirror across the room is an accusation, convicting him of his embarrassing desires. The evidence used in this case is the flush of his skin from the tips of his ears to mid chest.
He calms himself as he puts on a loose fitting old t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. If his complexion is still reddened, he’ll say the shower was too hot. Not that it’s likely Jeongin will ask. He probably hadn’t noticed, and if he had…
It’s time to quit catastrophizing and just head back out. It’s not as if he is scared of Jeongin. Far from it. He also doubts there’s anything he could do to ruin Jeongin’s regard for him. Minho is the proven favourite hyung for a reason.
Jeongin swiftly turns to face him when he exits the bedroom. Minho can feel all the ground he’d recovered on the blushing front recede. Jeongin tilts his head curiously.
“Did you want some tea too, hyung? I’m boiling enough water.”
“Sure.” Minho steps closer to the kitchen, and as he approaches Jeongin, he realises that he’s not smelling anything. There’s a faint hint of bread or yeast, a trace of apricot jam, but it’s old, almost stale. Not the fresh flavour he’d expect when Jeongin is present in the room with him. There isn’t even any hint of brownies or cheesecake he might come to expect when Jeongin spends time with Yongbok and Jisung. He blinks slowly and leans in closer to sniff at Jeongin’s hair. Still, he smells nothing other than the hazelnut of Jeongin’s regular hair products.
Jeongin’s features scrunch and he pulls away. “Hyung, what are you doing?”
Minho blinks again. “Are you still wearing the scent blocker?”
“Is that why you’re acting so strangely?” Jeongin peers at him, still standing further away than Minho would like.
“Hyung is tired. Hyung has been dancing all day.” Minho pouts cutely. “Hyung is exhausted!”
Jeongin rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Ridiculous.” He slips his hand under the collar of his shirt and winces as he peels the blocker from the skin over his scent gland.
It’s as if a bakery door has been opened. Fresh bread and glazed pastries assail Minho’s senses, and he stumbles forward, pulling Jeongin into his arms. His nose dips and presses against Jeongin’s neck, who trembles with the release of an indignant squawk.
Jeongin doesn’t pull away, or try to escape, so Minho tightens his arms around Jeongin’s waist. A few moments pass, and then Jeongin sighs and leans into the embrace, his own arms encircling Minho. “Only until the kettle goes off. Then it’s tea time.”
Boundaries.
Boundaries are good things. Every relationship needs them. Minho reminds himself that their relationship is a friendship. That Jeongin is younger, and Minho is there to help him, protect him and give him the security he needs while he’s carrying Chan and Yongbok’s pup. Even as his alpha jubilantly dances through his mind, emitting a contented cloud of mountain air and the clear scent of crisp water running over river stones. Even as he moves his hands to Jeongin’s waist, taking a slight step back so they’re not pressed so closely together, lest he or his energetic alpha give themselves away in potentially the most embarrassing way.
The kettle comes to a boil, whistling shrilly and Minho steps back. Turning Jeongin towards the couch, Minho nudges him out of the room. “I’ll bring the tea, and some of those cookies you like. Grab a blanket and get comfortable.”
Left alone in the kitchen, Minho rests his hands against the edge of the counter and props himself up. It’s getting harder to deny his alpha. He wishes he didn’t need to, but there’s so many reasons why he should. Jeongin needs the stability of their friendship, and now is not the time to change their dynamics. Minho’s concerned that the interest from his alpha is based more on instinct, than on desire. He’d never had thoughts about Jeongin like this before. He refuses to act until he’s able to align himself, body, mind, soul and alpha. To do anything else would be unfair to Jeongin.
Perhaps the rest of the month will be good for both of them. Minho will need to spend more time apart, and Jeongin will become used to relying upon the others. Though his alpha’s hackles rise at this thought, a growling grumble at the back of his mind, he pushes the over protective jealousy down. It’s necessary, both for work and to reset his own perimetre of their relationship.
By the time he’s poured the hot water into the mugs Jeongin prepared, and pulled the cookies from the cupboard, his alpha’s physical desires have lessened. Their mingled scents in the air have also restored his peace of mind.
He can make it through the rest of this evening. They’ll drink tea. Jeongin will share some stories from his day. Minho can show him the video he took. He can do this.
Jeongin has attended Minho’s winter showcases in the past, so he’s not sure why he’s suddenly full of jitters now. He’s not even the one going to be on stage!
His brain is scattered all over the place. He can’t even decide what it is he wants to wear as he stands in his bedroom, towel wrapped around his waist, though it was more difficult to tuck given his growing belly. He’ll likely have to find a new solution in a month or so, bringing clothes into the bathroom with him, or finding a large enough robe to fit him comfortably.
He had an outfit all picked out yesterday. Nothing too fancy. Casual, sturdy clothing. Something he might wear when doing parent teacher interviews. Looking at the outfit now, he’s starting to think the shoes will clash with the shirt. The shades of green are similar, but one is a little too bright with yellow, and the shoes are just as midge too blue in their hue. Will that be broken by the brown pants he’ll wear? Yes. But then he starts thinking he’ll look like some sort of tree trunk, and the whole outfit just won’t do.
As he’s pacing past his open closet, he sees a hint of pink in the far corner and parts the surrounding shirts to retrieve a flowing shirt in a delicate shade of rose he can pair with the cream cardigan Minho delivered two days before. With a careful french tuck of the shirt, Jeongin can hide the growing pup. He’s not ashamed of being pregnant, he just doesn’t like all the questions. Even worse, are the number of ajumeoni who want to stroke or pat his belly, coming up to him unprompted, and thinking they’re somehow entitled to touch him.
At least tonight he’ll be surrounded by friends, so the likelihood of anyone approaching him is slim.
He hadn’t realised how well defended he’d been under Minho’s care until these past few weeks. Not that the others haven’t stepped in to help out here and there, but they don’t live as close, and maybe Jeongin’s taken advantage of Minho’s better nature over the past few months.
Minho never complains, is always helpful, is available almost at a moment’s notice. If anything, he is endeared by Jeongin’s pouting and mercurial moods of late. Minho seems amused by the random foods Jeongin now craves, and treats the acquisition of each new item as some sort of game.
Jeongin knows the rest of the group would rally around him if he asked. He doesn’t doubt how much each of them support him, the pregnancy, and Chan and Felix’s desire for a family. No matter how old Jeongin is, he will always be the maknae, their agi ppang.
He doesn’t want to take advantage of their good and generous nature. Which is why he’d gone out on his own over the last few weeks to find the things he needs or wants while Minho’s been busy preparing. The others are happy to help, perhaps almost too enthusiastically. They’ll talk to him, ask him all sorts of questions, offer advice from stories shared by their siblings, cousins, and omega parents. In some ways, they are too eager to help. Jeongin’s used to asking Minho for something, and having him grouse about the request before doing it. Then there’s also all the times where Minho has just been there, somehow knowing exactly what Jeongin needs as he needs it. His advice doesn’t come with a lot of stories (like Changbin or Felix). His help doesn’t come with a bunch of qualifying questions (like Chan or Han). Minho’s complaints are full of fondness and they’re endearing (unlike sarcastic Seungmin, or over dramatic Hyunjin).
With a snort of amusement, Jeongin realises that he may be Goldilocks, with Minho being the not too hard, not too soft hyung. Minho is just right.
Each year, the winter showcase is a celebration of dance. It shows off the talents of the students and the teachers. It’s open to the public, and while they don’t charge admission, it indirectly helps the studio by inspiring people to dance and sign up for classes.
As much as Jeongin is excited about attending, he’s also selfishly glad that after tonight, Minho will return to a normal schedule. Jeongin will be able to see him for more than just a few moments in the morning when Minho swings by to drop off some leftovers, or just to say hi or hand over some of the clothes he’s scented.
It doesn’t feel like enough to wander over to Minho’s apartment, feed Soonie, Doongie and Dori and pretend he’s not chasing after Minho’s scent as he wanders through the open rooms before he heads back to his own place.
He misses Minho and he feels guilty about it. Not just because Minho has a right to his own life, but because Minho was never meant to be this entwined in Jeongin’s life. Jeongin also feels like he’s not properly grateful for the accommodations the others have been making to help out. He knows the comparisons aren’t fair to the others, but emotions aren’t fair, or rational, and he ultimately can’t help how he feels, though he can still feel that he’s being unjust to the rest of their friends.
Maybe Minho’s need to work has been a blessing though. After seeing him in the towel, flashes of his toned and powerful thighs, his chest on display, even the scar on his stomach from a childhood surgery in plain view, Jeongin has been able to think of little else. How was Jeongin meant to move on from the way the rivulet of water dripped from Minho’s damp hair down the smooth plain of his back? Or from finally having a proper understanding of just what hours of dancing daily could do for the muscles in someone’s legs?
Is he ashamed of the way he’s suddenly thirsty for his favourite hyung? No, he wouldn’t say that. How could he be ashamed of something like this when anyone would be justified in feeling thirsty about what he’d seen?
Jeongin does feel penitent. He suspects Minho never would have wanted Jeongin to see him that way. For all that Minho had walked across the room, back straight and proud, there’d be a deliberateness to his movements and his scent, that if Jeongin didn’t know him better, would have fooled him into believing Minho was unaffected.
Because he’s not been able to spend time with Minho, he might have worried that the distance between them was intentional, and not just because Minho was busy this time of year. Jeongin would have, if not for the way in which Minho had returned, clothed, and then insisted on scenting him and holding him close. While they’ve spent time apart, Minho has been checking in with him regularly. Text messages throughout the day. ‘Did Changbin get you to work on time?’, ‘Did you eat your lunch?’, ‘Are the children behaving?’, ‘Don’t forget there’s budae jjigae in the freezer for dinner.’
Though Minho has left clothing for Jeongin at random, there is usually some paper or a post-it note included. They never say anything, and are instead drawings of Jureumi. He suspects the intention is for the notes to land up in the recycling, but Jeongin carefully curates all of them within a notebook he’s kept since his first year of University. While he and Seungmin had been advised to keep a diary of their progress as singers, Seungmin was the only one diligent enough to make it a habit. For Jeongin, he uses it as storage for keepsakes, choosing to paste important mementos onto the pages. The Jureumi’s are turning into a multiple page collage.
All things considered, it would seem that they’ve both quietly decided that the whole towel event is best left in the past and never to be spoken of between them. This suits Jeongin, as he’s not sure what he’d end up saying if they did discuss it. Would he say something like ‘I’m sorry I saw you that way,’ as if he’d never wanted to see that much of Minho? Could he admit, embarrassingly so, ‘Seeing your thighs made me want to bite them,’ as if it wouldn’t mortify him to do so. Or even worse, should he admit to the thought which had woken him the following morning, hard and desperate, ‘I want to feel your legs over my shoulders, holding me in place as I suck your cock’? Much better to just leave the image of Minho wearing naught but a towel in the back of his mind and never speak of it.
Checking the time, Jeongin realises he has all of ten minutes to get dressed and downstairs before Changbin and Seungmin arrive to pick him up. He never used to let his mind wander like this before the pup. He definitely never used to think about Minho in this particular way. Given how sweet, patient and caring Minho has been, he certainly deserves better than to be sexualized in such a fashion. Jeongin knows Minho is doing them all a kindness, a favour to Chan, and Jeongin has no right to read anything else into how their dynamic has changed
As he’s racing out the door, he has to run back into the kitchen to retrieve the flowers he’d bought to give Minho after the show. He’s not sure how they’ll be received. He’s never given Minho flowers after a performance before. Usually Chan would order something, and just tell Minho it was from all of them, and they’d wire Chan some won to chip in. That didn’t seem reasonable to Jeongin for some reason this year. He wanted to make a gesture, to show support, and this seems the best way. Without asking, Jeongin already knows Minho would never accept a gift of gratitude for what he’s doing. These flowers, in some small measure, will contain that message in a way that Minho won’t refuse.
The flowers aren’t anything special. Rather, they’re not anything expensive. Jeongin had wandered around the flower shop, sniffing bloom after bloom, trying to find scents that reminded him of Minho, of the mountain fields. The resulting bouquet is small, full of various colours. It’s a tiny celebration in floral form. If the florist had spoken of the meaning of each flower as she arranged them, and those he had picked represented patience, hope, resilience, friendship and diligence, only Jeongin needs to know the secret language of such a gift.
The florist had taken pains to wrap the bouquet carefully so that the flowers wouldn’t be harmed as they were transported through the winter weather. Though it hasn’t snowed in days, the chill could still cause the blooms to wither.
Jeongin doesn’t wait long in the entrance of the apartment building before his phone chimes with a text from Changbin, letting him know that he’s arrived. Jeongin’s not surprised when Seungmin moves from the passenger seat to the back of the car to let him be more comfortable, though it is accompanied by a sarcastic teasing comment.
The drive to the auditorium is short. Jeongin is quiet as Seungmin and Changbin resume the conversation they’d been in the midst of having. It is a little hard to follow, but it sounds as if they are trying to sort out vacations for the upcoming year, accommodating for when Seungmin’s unpredictable filming schedule would allow them to get away for a while.
Worried about the effect of the colder weather may have on the roads and walkways causing them to be slippery, Changbin lets them out at the front door before going to park the car. Seungmin holds tightly to Jeongin’s arm as they move towards the entrance, keeping each other stable. The whole effort bears a resemblance to the three legged race Jeongin had been in during his University orientation.
There’s a rush of warm air that passes over them as they move through the double doors of the auditorium. There’s a large atrium which contains a coat check station and allows those who arrive early to mingle before taking their seats. From across the room, they’re able to spot a cluster of their friends already waiting.
“Let me take your coat, Innie, and you can go join them.”
Jeongin allows Seungmin to help him with his long puffer jacket, carefully passing the flowers from one hand to the other so he can manage his sleeves. As Seungmin folds the jacket over his arm, he leans forward and inhales. Jeongin frowns at him. What exactly was Seungmin trying to do?
“Damnit,” Seungmin says under his breath. “You’ve lost me a bet, Jeongin-ah.”
Not at all impressed, Jeongin’s frown shifts to a glare as he meets Seungmin’s eyes.
“Changbin and I had a wager. I figured you wouldn’t smell like Minho-hyung today, but you do.”
Even holding the glare, Jeongin knows his cheeks are aflame. He waves the bouquet between them, “It’s just the flowers.” He turns, and his back stiffens as he hears Seungmin laugh as Jeongin walks over to join the others.
Felix wraps an arm around his waist and pulls Jeongin in close. “You look wonderful. I thought you were coming with Changbin-hyung and Seungmin?”
“Mhmm. Changbin-hyung’s parking the car and Seungmin-hyung’s checking our coats.” Jeongin looks around, but doesn’t see any clocks on the wall, and he didn’t wear a watch. The doors to the auditorium are still closed. He hopes he won’t have to stand for too long. “Do you know when they’ll be opening the doors?”
Chan checks his watch. “In about five minutes. If you need to get off your feet before then, I’ll talk to one of the ushers.”
Jeongin shakes his head. “I’ll be okay, hyung.”
“Is there anything you need, Innie?” Hyunjin asks, stepping forward to squeeze against Jeongin’s other side. His eyes twinkle with mischief. “If you need the bathroom, it’s over on the other side of the room.”
Is his compressed bladder a joke to everyone now? He sighs and rolls his eyes, pulling away from Hyunjin. “It’s the same location as last year. I know where the bathrooms are.”
“You should try harder not to be so cute when you’re disgruntled, Jeongin-ah. It will only encourage him.”
He turns his glare upon Jisung. “Maybe Hyunjin-hyung should not try so hard to tease me. I’m not here for his amusement.”
Hyunjin laughs, “No, you’re here to see Minho-hyung dance.”
Jeongin bites the inside of his cheek, furiously trying to contain his instinctive blush at the accusation. If not for the scent blockers applied, he’d worry about his scent as well. He breathes through his nose to summon enough patience to scathingly respond, “That’s the reason we’re all here, hyung.”
Jisung wags a finger at Hyunjin. “Ha! He’s got you there.”
Chan looks ready to intercede, but he’s saved from having to make the effort by Changbin and Seungmin’s arrival. Jeongin doesn’t blame Seungmin for waiting on Changbin to join them, but he wonders for how much longer the rest of their friends will remain oblivious to the small signs of affection between the two of them.
The group recalibrates, extending to welcome them. The attention shifts off Jeongin as Seungmin teases Chan once more for being ‘almost half seventy’, while Chan denies the allegation as a gross exaggeration of his current age.
When the ushers open the house doors, Jeongin is quick to claim an aisle seat, stating he may need to make bathroom trips during the performances. While some look like they may tease Jeongin, a quick look from Hyunjin is quelling enough to prevent any response. Felix claims the seat beside Jeongin. Chan and Hyunjin take up the last of the remaining seats in that row, with Changbin, Seungmin and Jisung sitting behind them.
While the house lights remain on, ushers move through the aisles, guiding attendees to open seats and providing them with programs for the evening’s performances. Jeongin looks through his, noting the dances Minho’s discussed with him, and confirming when they’re slotted throughout the evening, strategically planning the bathroom breaks he knows he’s likely to require. He can’t even sit through an hour long episode of his favourite dramas right now, so a two and a half hour evening of performances is an impossibility. Jeongin doesn’t want to miss any of Minho’s students dancing, knowing how much care Minho’s taken to choreograph their performances. Even worse is the thought of missing Minho’s performance.
While Jeongin has had the chance to see short videos of what Minho worked on for his students, shared as Minho takes pride in the accomplishments and progress of his students, Minho has been carefully guarded about his own performance. Teasing Minho by playing some classical music on the piano and asking if he’ll be dancing to The Nutcracker, or Romeo and Juliet has only resulted in Minho laughing and complementing Jeongin’s piano skills. In previous years, Minho has shared his ideas, his plans, and even let Jeongin see what he was working on. He’s not sure why this year is different.
The house lights dim, the audience hushes, and the curtains open to a group of small children standing on the stage. The music begins and they begin to dance. The notes are lively, and the children scamper around the stage. Moving with intention, some of them have more grace than others. The ballet choreography is simple, but effective. It rotates the children throughout the piece, providing them all with a moment to shine. When the performance is over, they gather in a line, hold hands and bow before rushing back to the wings of the stage.
The next group of children take the stage, standing in position until their track starts. According to the program, this is the early hip hop class. While Jeongin knows the students are meant to strut on the stage with swagger and confidence, they’re still more adorable than poised. It would seem Minho has planned for this, the costumes, the music, providing a playful energy, even while suiting a hip hop theme. At the end of the performance, Jeongin holds the bouquet close to his chest so he can enthusiastically clap.
The performances continue, the groups of children grow older throughout the evening as the stages cycle through various forms of dance: ballet, jazz, hip hop, b-boy, tutting. While the performances remain short, none lasting more than three minutes, Jeongin is able to dash out for a bathroom break, returning in enough time to ensure he doesn’t miss any of Minho’s students performing.
After the first hour, the house lights are turned on, and the MC for the evening lets everyone know there will be a ten minute intermission. He encourages the parents of younger children who have performed to feel free to depart, knowing they may have already gone past their bedtimes, and invites everyone upon their return to move into newly open seats for a closer view. Hyunjin and Jisung offer to remain in their seats so the others can get up and stretch their legs. Jeongin makes use of the facilities again, in the hopes that he’ll be able to make it through the last of the performances without another trip to the bathroom, but suspecting he’ll fail. Felix is kind enough to hold the bouquet for him.
While the performances after the intermission are more skilled, they remain as entertaining as those which came before. As the groups age into mid teen dancers, the performances begin to have themes and stories, the costumes are more elaborate. Many of these dancers will go on to use these stages in competitions in the new year, taking tonight as an opportunity to get a feel for the stage, and be able to fine tune their moves prior to being marked on their skills.
During a later tap dance performance, Jeongin hands off the bouquet to Felix again so he can duck out of the auditorium for yet another pee break. He’ll likely miss the rest of that performance, and the following wacking group, but he’s seen the last of Minho’s hip hop group, and he’ll be back in time for the instructor stages.
As the youngest instructor at the studio, Minho’s performance is first. When the music starts, the dim light pans to the left side of the stage to highlight Minho’s face. He’s crouched down near the floor with his head raised. As the sounds in the track play, his head moves, stretching through the air as if to smell what is around him. As the music progresses, Jeongin realises that though he’s never heard this particular song, it has 3RACHA’s trademark of using interesting sounds, sourced from various instruments, locations and common sounds scattered throughout the track to build a strangely subdued, but also disquieting tone.
Pushing himself up from the floor, Minho raises his gloved hand, his fingers forming a curved claw; an impression heightened by the sharp extensions added to his glove. As he moves further into the light, it brightens, lending greater contrast to his makeup. Dark lines have been drawn about his eye, the contour applied to his cheek making it appear hollow, adding a sharpness to his features which Jeongin finds predatory. Minho’s hair is swept up and styled to mimic a canine ear. This impression strengthens as Minho raises his head, mouth open as a howl weaves through the music.
Minho stalks across the stage. His posture is confident, bordering on arrogant, and embodies strength and restrained violence. The lighting plays over his skin, highlighting the tense muscles and prominent veins, while also shimmering over the dark fabric which clings to his form. The music crescendos as he strikes out his clawed hand, poised at the apex of the swing, then turns to face the other direction as the music drops.
The tune remains haunting, though now subdued, gentler in tone. It takes Jeongin a moment to realise the change in Minho’s demeanour. The way his limbs now curve towards his body, the hunch of his shoulders, the lowering of his chin. Minho’s costume from this side is different as well, the fabric tapers out to a flowing sleeve, the fabric of his pants is slashed and frayed. The make up on this side of his face speaks of cuts and bruises, a dark mottle of green, blue and purple across his cheekbone, a reddish line along his forehead. As the melody swirls through the auditorium, Minho curves into himself, shivering in what Jeongin would attribute to fear, based on the halted and stuttering movements Minho makes as he cautiously dances forwards and then scurry backwards. A low bass note thrums on the first downbeat of every measure as Minho moves further downstage, dancing himself into smaller poses. There’s a shrill note that cries out as Minho stumbles, falling down on his ass, followed by a tremulous whimper of a stringed instrument.
Minho’s legs tuck against his chest and his arms wrap about them. The thrum of the bass note grows louder, the whimper of the strings deepens to a growl and Minho springs upwards, his animalistic side facing the audience. He resumes the confident posture, but his head motions which seemed seeking, as if hunting for prey earlier feel more furtive. Jeongin isn’t even certain how Minho is able to accomplish that, he just knows that Minho has done something, changed the way he’s moving in a slight and subtle way to peel back the arrogance and add fear.
Enraptured, Jeongin watches the interplay of the characters, or the personas Minho displays as he dances. Each time Minho changes the way he faces the audience, there is a swap of traits between the two. As predator becomes prey, as the strong becomes vulnerable and the fearful becomes strong. The music, which had dramatic shifts to start with, now blends the music, bass notes and melodic or harmonic lines bleed from one aspect to the other, just as Minho has done with his dance. The music tells a story which Minho has embodied.
At the end, Minho stands before the audience, his head uplifted. His posture is a juxtaposition of what would be expected from each side of his costume, the surrender of the loose limbs from the monstrous side and the taut strength of the wounded side. For the first time, both sides appear under the spotlight, allowing the whole of him to be seen by the audience while the music fades.
Jeongin wonders at Minho’s intentions while creating the choreography. He knows that what an artist hopes to convey is not always the message the audience receives. Did Minho wish to speak of the nature of predator and prey and how the roles are not so easily defined? Is he implying that a person can have both traits? Is the message that there is strength in being vulnerable and a vulnerability in being strong? That being savage doesn’t mean you can’t also be gentle, or that showing kindness doesn’t make you weak?
He hopes someone has taken a recording of the performance. Jeongin knows he’ll remember this for how it made him feel both uncertain and whole, as if he was seen and understood, but he wants more than just what he’ll remember. This will be something he’ll want to watch again, and feel each time, the regret of never being able to experience it again as if it were the first time.
Jeongin is startled by the sounds of whooping from Jisung and Felix, and he quickly moves his hands to clap as Minho bows and leaves the stage.
While he tries to dedicate his attention to the performances of the other leaders, Jeongin’s mind remains immersed in Minho’s dance. His mind is captured by the staging, the costuming, the themes and the music. Jeongin is captivated by the way in which Minho moved, the precision and control over his motions speaks to Minho’s long hours dedicated to his craft. Jeongin is able to recognise not only the talent, but the skill involved, as he’s spent his own hours practising and slaving over new music scores, his fingers tripping over keys again and again until the notes are precise and perfectly placed, and continuing to play long after until he is able to not only play the music, but imbue it with emotion as well. Talent is not enough; it’s only the launching point from where art truly begins. It’s the years of study to master a craft that allows a performance to shine.
How long has Minho been working on this performance? For how long has he kept it secret, if not from 3RACHA, then at least from the rest of them?
Jeongin is still deep in thought as the house lights come back on and the audience claps as the instructors return to the stage to take a final bow. He awkwardly rises to his feet to stand beside Felix, the bouquet set down in the chair behind him so he can clap and cheer along with his friends.
Perhaps all the instructors' stages have been recorded so he’ll have an opportunity to watch them again later.
“Shall we go backstage and find Minho-hyung?” Felix nudges Jeongin with a grin.
Jeongin rolls his eyes and wants to groan, but he really shouldn’t let Felix know how much the teasing is impacting him. “I think I should visit the bathroom first.”
Felix laughs and picks up the bouquet for Jeongin. Behind them, Changbin has let Jisung and Seungmin pass by him while he waits to lead them out of the auditorium. Chan and Hyunjin will follow after them.
Rushing to rejoin them after a swift trip to the bathroom, Jeongin’s glad to see that most of the crowd who attended the winter showcase have left. He splashed some water on his face to help reset his thoughts. Now he can only hope that none of the other instructors stop him to ask how he enjoyed their performances, because he can’t recall enough of any of them. It’s a shame, because in past years he enjoyed all of the performances and was envious of the grace and beauty of the other dance instructors. He could never be them, tripping over his own feet being a daily event.
As Chan breaks off from the ongoing conversation to lead them down the hallway to the change room backstage, Felix hands the bouquet back to Jeongin.
“That was an amazing performance, wasn’t it?” Felix’s eyes are fully joyful mischief as he pointedly looks at him.
“Very artistic!” Hyunjin agrees, saving Jeongin for a brief moment, even if Felix’s eyes still hold his answer captive.
Jeongin nods, his hand clenches about the bouquet and the paper rustles, crushed under his long fingers, betraying his nervousness. “I didn’t know he was going to dance like that.” Maybe he can get some answers, even while facing Felix’s scrutiny. “Chan-hyung, when did Minho ask you to work on that track for him?”
Changbin chuckles, answering as Chan stalls, “It was about four months ago, hyung. I remember because it let you take a break from worrying about what to do about Felix-ah’s birthday and use some of the samples you’d set aside because you liked them, but didn’t have any current projects they’d fit with.”
Chan nods, “Right, right. I remember now. It helped, and I think the birthday present went over well too!”
Felix’s focused attention is diverted from watching Jeongin’s reaction to looking at his mate, much to Jeongin’s relief. Even if Jeongin finds the mushy, soft and romantic look upon Felix’s face a little much. “You did so well, Channie-hyung. A weekend away was just what I needed. It was perfect.”
Preening, Chan begins to lead them back down the hallway. They stand out in the hallway as they wait for the dancers to emerge, not wanting to rush them, but also wanting to be there the moment Minho leaves the room.
Jeongin lifts his face as the door opens, and the muffled noises from within the room become more clear. Vata is making his way out of the room, luggage in hand, followed by Jonggyu who is pulling his own wheeled suitcase behind him.
“It’s too bad you can’t join us, Minho-yah,” Vata says, looking over his shoulder. “The Japan tour is going to be amazing.”
Jonggyun nods. “It’s an amazing opportunity. Maybe they’ll have us back next tour, and we’ll be able to convince you to come with us then.”
Minho joins them outside the room, his face cleared of the makeup, though his hair on one side is still a stylized wolf ear, and he’s still wearing his costume. His eyes meet Jeongin’s before he turns away to focus on the departing dancers. Is that a hint of blush to his cheeks? “I hope so, hyung. I know you’ll do well and make us all proud. Have a great time.”
After waiting for Jonggyun and Vata to leave, Minho turns to his friends. He looks tired, but it’s been a long day for him, as Jeongin well knows. Minho didn’t even have time for their regular grocery shopping trip. Instead, he’d headed to the auditorium to go over the lighting and sound checks, before doing a final rehearsal with the students, with a brief break before the performances. Jeongin was tired, and all he’d done was order the groceries for delivery, pick up the flowers, and sit down to watch a drama all afternoon before coming to see the showcase.
Perhaps he is more tired than he’d thought, for as Minho meets his eyes, and his expression remains set in a way that Jeongin knows Minho uses to reveal the least he can of how he feels, Jeongin is struck by the conversation they overheard. Minho had an opportunity to tour in Japan, and be paid to dance, but he declined. With a sinking realisation, Jeongin understands that he’s the only reason why Minho would remain in Seoul rather than take advantage of visiting a country he enjoys and dancing on a larger stage than he’s ever seen. If not for Jeongin, Minho would be rushing to the airport. Had Minho asked, Jeongin would have told him to go, even if he would be gone for months. Jeongin would never want to hold back Minho’s career. But he hadn’t asked, and Jeongin could only accept the choice Minho had made all on his own.
Swallowing his remorse, Jeongin puts on his brightest smile and steps forward, offering his bouquet. “You were amazing, hyung.”
Even as Minho takes the bouquet and raises it to hide his face, likely under the excuse of sniffing the flowers, Jeongin can see how red the tips of Minho’s ears become. Jeongin can’t let this opportunity to praise Minho pass him by. “Did anyone record the stages? Will they be posted on YouTube? I want to watch it again already.”
Minho lifts his head to reveal the mottled blush staining his cheeks. When Hyunjin coos at him, Minho glares at him before looking back at Jeongin. “There’s a recording, yes.”
Jeongin beams at him. “Good! My only regret is that I’ll never recapture the feeling of seeing it for the first time ever again.”
Minho rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “You’re trying too hard, Iyen-ah.” Turning to the rest of the group, Minho looks at his friends and smiles. “Thank you all for coming. I know it’s a long evening, but I’m so glad you could make it.”
Chan chuckles and steps forward to give Minho a hug. Minho gives a long suffering sigh as Chan pulls him close and sways with him back and forth. “So proud of you, Minho-yah.”
From behind his back, Felix reveals the larger bouquet of flowers from the rest of the group and offers it, which Minho accepts with a puzzled expression. “But Jeongin already gave me the flowers?”
As Felix laughs, Jisung joyfully explains, much to Jeongin’s chagrin, “Jeongin got those flowers all on his own. We didn’t have anything to do with those.”
Jeongin’s too busy paying attention to how the redness of Minho’s ears spreads down the back of his neck and how Minho is refusing to look at him to hear the rest of the conversation. He knows who's talking, and recognizes the pride and admiration in the words they’re speaking, but he’s not actually listening as Changbin, Hyunjin and Seungmin also congratulate Minho.
“Minho-yah, we’re just about ready to go,” Bada leans through the doorway to warn, “unless you want to wear your costume out, you might want to change.”
Minho blinks slowly, and looks to Changbin. “Jeongin-ah is going home with you, right?”
“Yes hyung. I’ll make sure he gets home safe.”
“Good.” Stepping closer to Jeongin, Minho rubs their shoulders together and leans in to sniff at Jeongin’s hair. “I’ll make you dinner tomorrow, okay?”
Jeongin smiles up at him and nods. “Okay, hyung. Enjoy the party.”
Before Minho pulls away, his mouth dares closer to Jeongin's ear to whisper, “Thank you for my flowers.”
If Jeongin could respond through the thickness of his throat, the flare of prickly red all over his face, he's not sure what he would even say. In the balance of who is able to fluster the other more, it seems Minho has the advantage.
Following the noonas as they walk down the street to a nearby barbeque place, Minho is left to his own thoughts. Usually, he’d be talking to Vata and Jonggyun, but his hyungs are on their way to Japan. Being offered the chance to choreograph and dance with an up and coming idol group feels like a once in a lifetime opportunity, but he still has no regrets about turning it down.
It’s not only a matter of keeping his word to Chan. He knows the others would take care of Jeongin if he decided to go. He can trust them to care for Jeongin, but his alpha’s hackles had raised anytime he’d thought of leaving Jeongin behind, and even the last month of additional work and separation had his alpha pouting. Had he accepted the offer when it arrived two weeks ago, he would have spent the next couple months fretting and worrying about Jeongin while dealing with his own frantic and surly alpha. As much as he loves dancing and enjoys performing for large crowds, he needs his peace of mind more, and that won’t exist without the security of knowing Jeongin is safe and content.
He’d made sure to peek out from the wings of the stage while the house lights were still on before the showcase started to ensure his friends had good seats. His first response to seeing his friends tucked into the seats near the aisle in the middle of the auditorium was relief they’d all made it there on time. When he saw Jeongin wearing the sweater he’d left with the newest Jureumi drawing the other day, he was thrilled. The next thought had his heart racing, anxious about his performance and what they all might think of it, of how Jeongin would perceive it.
Minho had thought a lot about their recent relationships. Of how Sanghee had expected him to be dominant, decisive, but more importantly, possessive. As if those were her defining characteristics of what a good alpha should be, while Minho believes that none of those traits are what an alpha should embody. An alpha is meant to be a protector, a guardian and provider. He never understood why dominance and control were a measure of how well one was able to do any of those things an alpha is meant to do.
Thinking about Jeongin’s failed relationship with Daehyun made Minho realise omegas are pressured to be a certain way, just as alphas are, but that those traits don’t adequately capture the ideal he envisions for an omega. If an omega is meant to be a caretaker and the heart of a pack, then why would they be submissive or gentle? Both love and loyalty are often attributed to omegas, but in Minho’s mind, those emotions can be felt with great ferocity and intensity.
He’s wanted to discuss these thoughts with Jeongin for a while. Given the way Jeongin had reacted while Christmas shopping, he’s started to believe that Jeongin’s suffered under some of those preconceived ideas. He knows how important having a family is to Jeongin, and perhaps Jeongin has overtime been convinced that to achieve his goals he has to fit some of these ill perceived notions..
But Minho knows he will struggle to express himself while talking, so he’s framed these thoughts within his dance. Then maybe they can discuss it afterwards, and he can help Jeongin understand that he should never feel the need to change to satisfy someone else.
He’s worried about how Jeongin will view the performance, and Jeongin hasn’t even seen it yet. Which could account for how nervous he now feels about his performance. The last time he’d felt like this was when he’d done his audition piece to be accepted at the university. His whole future trajectory was to be decided on that performance.
When they arrive at the restaurant, Bada is quick to pick a table and order some soju while they all look at the menu. Minho dutifully sets out napkins and cutlery for all the noonas and himself, and when the soju arrives, he pours glasses for all of them. Even if Vata and Jonggyum were in attendance, these duties would fall on Minho’s shoulders, for he would still be the youngest.
Perhaps this is part of why he understands Jeongin so well, especially with regards to how he fits into their friend group’s dynamics. It’s different, with Chan having upended some of the social norms, but the teasing of the youngest still falls to Jeongin most often.
Bada makes a toast, praising the dance crew and talking about how proud she is of all of them for the showcase. They all drink, and Minho quickly refills their glasses. The cuts of meat they ordered arrive, and Minho’s cooking and offering pieces to all his noonas. Between refilling glasses, drinking soju, cooking the meat and passing around the banchan, Minho’s kept busy.
They discuss all the different stages, celebrating their students, and remarking on those who have improved the most in the past year. It’s as they start talking about the leader stages that his noonas have slowed down and Minho’s able to eat a bite or two. The modicum of food sitting in his stomach doesn’t feel like it does much to dilute the soju he’s drunk so far that evening, and he’s glad he had the forethought to take transit that morning. He knew he wouldn’t be in any condition to drive.
“Minho-yah, it’s really too bad you couldn’t go to Japan. Your stage tonight was amazing. You deserve the recognition,” Redy states, as the rest of the dancers nod in agreement.
“Why is it that you couldn’t go?” Jina asks, leaning forward and holding her glass up to toast. The swift motion has a few drops of alcohol splash over the side of the glass where it drops to sizzle on the grill.
Minho blinks slowly, and he can feel his ears turning red. “I’d already promised a friend I’d be in Seoul to help them out.”
Bada looks at Minho and smiles. While Minho usually trusts her kind and gentle nature, there’s something in the gleam of her eyes that has his stomach flip flopping. She knows 3RACHA, having used them for music in the past, and Minho’s mentioned most of his other friends in passing at some point. “Was the friend with the group who met you after the performance?”
Looking around, Minho sees the curious gaze of all the other instructors. Minho doesn’t trust himself to be able to speak without saying something that will likely have them all teasing him, so he just hums a response as he nods, “Mhmm.”
Bada’s gaze sharpens. “It’s not Jisung-ssi, is it? I know you’re close with the 3RACHA maknae.”
Minho just shakes his head. Don’t mention Jeongin. Do not mention Jeongin. He clears his throat. “It’s Chan-hyung, actually.”
Redy looks confused. “He’s a performer too though. Wouldn’t he understand?”
Minho blinks slowly, cracks his knuckles one by one and blinks again. With the way all the noonas are looking at him now, he feels like he’s in the ocean, bloody, with sharks circling around him, and he can’t even swim. They know his habits too well, and they sense there’s a story and he knows he’s not about to escape without giving the details. It comes from a sense of concern and care. Minho understands this, but he’s also used to being able to keep his private life private. “Uh, he…he would, yes. But, I promised to take care of Iyen-ah.”
Shit…why didn’t he just use Jeongin’s name? Where’s a glass of water when he needs one? Maybe it’s not water he’s drowning in, but soju.
“That’s the cute one,” Riye says, hand held up to her face to circle her eyes. “The one with the foxy eyes. You were sniffing his hair.”
Minho can’t help the way he glares at Riye, a growl rumbling at the back of his throat. When she flinches away, he clenches his fists under the table and bows his head. “Sorry noona.”
Bada looks around the table, pats Minho’s back. “I’m the one who’s sorry, Minho-yah. This isn’t something we should tease you about, is it?”
Minho relaxes under Bada’s hand and sighs. “It’s not your fault. None of you knew.” If they hadn’t been drinking, or wearing scent blockers, the cues would have been easier for them all to pick up, and he might have been better able to deal with the teasing.
“It probably makes you more protective, given he’s pregnant too, right Minho-yah?” Girin adds with compassion.
“The pup isn’t ours,” Minho responds swiftly. His soju addled brain wants to explain why Chan’s involved. He hears the regret in his tone, and the shared possessive pronoun and his features grow mottled, a pale shock battling with an embarrassed blush. “His, I mean the pup’s not his.”
Ala Kim picks up a bowl of rice, adds some cooked slices of pork to the top and places it in front of Minho. A peace offering of sorts. “I know we’re all curious, but you can tell us to keep our noses out of it.”
Picking up his chopsticks, Minho shakes his head. “It makes sense to tell you. I might have to swap some classes, or call out in the next couple months. I should have mentioned it before. He’s carrying a pup for Chan-hyung and Yongbok-ah. They were planning on supporting him themselves, but it didn’t work out that way, and Jeongin-ah asked if I’d help instead,” Minho tries to explain, though he’s not sure the sparse details he’s provided will do the situation justice.
“Does he know how you feel about him?” Riye must have regained her courage, which is good, because Minho never wanted to scare her in the first place.
He shakes his head. “I didn’t even know.”
Jina looks at him in a way Minho would expect of someone watching a romance. As if he’s the alpha lead in a new drama, pinning perfectly for the omega in sacrificial silence. “Do you know how he feels about you?”
Minho summons a small smile. “I’m his favourite hyung.”
Bada rubs his back and makes a soothing noise. He knows without the scent blockers, the air would fill with cherry blossoms and rosehips to comfort him. “It’ll all work out, Minho-yah. Just let us know what you need.”
The rest of his noonas agree, offering to cover classes, or swap shifts if needed. Jina pours another round of soju for everyone. “We’ll make sure you get a taxi home, Minho-yah. Let’s party tonight, okay?”
Redy lifts her glass to make a toast. “To our maknae, next year we should let him perform last, so we can all shine a bit brighter!”