Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

With a thoughtful expression and earnest tone, the words are said:

“I'll do it.”

Felix's cup of tea stops halfway in the process of lifting to his lips, his mouth opens and he gapes at Jeongin. "What?" He shakes his head, as if to clear out confusion. "What about Daehyun?"

Jeongin's eyes grow flinty, scent turning from its usual freshly baked bread to slightly mouldy. "You know I went with him to meet his family last weekend?" At Felix's nod, he continues, "I overheard him and his cousin talking when I went to get a glass of water. Apparently the plan is to mate me, and then get me to quit my job so he can have me home and breeding his pups."

The sympathetic heartbreak has tears in Felix's eyes. "Oh, Iyen-ah. I'm so sorry."

Jeongin’s shoulders rise and fall in defeat, yet he still manages a warm smile, "Yeah, so, no need to worry about that. I can help, hyung. I'll do it."

Daehyun is just another in a long list of disappointing relationships. Jeongin feels like a fool. Until that conversation, Daehyun had been supportive of him being a teacher, proudly introducing Jeongin as someone who would cultivate the next generation. He'd even stated that as a strong and independent omega, Jeongin would be able to help his students break away from preconceived notions about the dynamics of secondary genders. It had seemed real, and restored Jeongin's faith that he'd found an alpha who would be a respectful mate and who could love him for who he was. 

But it was all shit. Daehyun wasn't different from any of the others after all.

Sitting in Felix's and Chan's living room over tea, Jeongin watches as Felix tries not to cry while sharing that he'd miscarried again. It makes Jeongin despair that anyone might be able to achieve the family life they wanted. If Chan and Felix, the most stable of relationships that he knows among his friends can’t achieve that dream, how is he supposed to?

Their conversation had turned to options. The doctor warned Felix and Chan that any further attempts to conceive would be risky. The suppressants and birth control Felix had been on for years since he'd first presented and during his modelling career had done a number on his system. It was unlikely that he’d be able to carry a pup to term. Those same drugs were reason enough for any adoption agency to put them at the bottom of the list; anyone who really wanted to be a parent would never have taken drugs like that, apparently. Never mind that it was written into Felix's contract, that he'd been a minor when the drugs had been prescribed, and the agency had kept him on the drugs for much longer than recommended. The medical profession hadn’t even completed long term studies of the effects of suppressants at that time! 

Felix could sue the agency he’d been with back then, or the pharmaceutical company, as some models had in the past. It wouldn't help Felix's career, and it wouldn't help them with adoption. Jeongin knows all this. He knows it would be a tough battle to fight to even get a chance at adoption. Their world isn’t fair, nor does he expect it ever will be, but Jeongin wants to help. His own dreams are in shambles. It seems worse that Chan and Felix’s dreams are dashed as well.

Felix started to voice his concerns about surrogacy, and how it might be an option, but he and Chan are leery. They’re worried about potential candidates. After hearing that the couple had read some horror stories about mothers who had asked for more money, or court fights afterwards over custody, the words just fell out of Jeongin’s mouth. He isn't using his womb for anything, and is starting to feel like he never will. If he can help two of the people he cares for most achieve their dream? It is the easiest decision he's ever made. 

"Let me help," Jeongin says. "I can do this. I can carry your pup." He knows his scent is still off, not as sweet or fresh as it usually is, and lacking the hint of apricot jam that happiness brings forth, but his smile is wide, his eyes an almost closed slant and his dimples deeply evident in his cheeks. "Your pup will be so loved. Hyung, you deserve to be parents. Let me help you."

Felix's hand slips into Jeongin's, his cute fingers dwarfed by Jeongin’s much larger hand, and though tears begin to fall down freckled cheeks, he smiles through it. "I'll talk to Channie hyung, and you should think about this a little more. It's not something you should rush into. I know you're hurting right now, so…we should all think about it some more, yeah?"

Jeongin tightens his fingers around Felix’s and he nods. He knows he isn’t going to change his mind. "Yeah. I'll think about it. Let me know when you and hyung are ready to talk."

The rest of the visit eases into quiet conversation, and when Felix hugs Jeongin as he is leaving, Jeongin leans into the embrace. He feels as if he's just stepped into a kitchen, brownies baking in the oven, encircled by Felix's arms. It's good to know his hyung is more at ease than when he’d first arrived, and though Jeongin’s own heart still feels tender, he finds himself content as he makes his way home.

Checking his phone after practice concluded means Minho only took a five minute shower, rather than the twenty he’d originally wanted. He can feel the ache in his muscles as he walks back to his apartment building, but when Felix asks for something, there’s few that would say no, and Minho isn’t one of them. 

It also wasn’t as if Felix had asked anything of him that he wouldn’t have minded doing anyway; check in on Jeongin, cause he’d had a rough time lately? It isn’t a hardship to spend time with the group’s maknae. While he isn’t the best at discussing deep emotions, at least when it comes to his own, he understands Jeongin. The act of spending an evening with him alone, cooking for him, and showing him he is cared for, even if Minho rarely speaks the words aloud, will help Jeongin feel better.

He stops at his own apartment long enough to drop off his gym bag, grab some ingredients out of the fridge and send a quick text to cancel his date that night. That message is followed swiftly by an answering call from his girlfriend, Sanghee. 

On this occasion, their conversation dissolves quickly. Minho doesn’t need to be in her vicinity to discern her anger. How dare he cancel their date last minute? They have reservations! Her words turn venomous when she spits out her suspicion that he’s cancelled to spend time with Jeongin instead of her.

“If you don’t have a friend who you would drop everything to help when they’re going through a rough time, then I feel sorry for you,” Minho gruffs down the line. He hangs up in typical fashion, not even bothering to say a parting word. This isn’t the first time she’s acted jealous over the time he spends with Jeongin. Given he isn’t going to stop doing so, their relationship would be doomed anyway. If she can’t trust him, then she isn’t someone he wants to be with. He considers whether he should block her number, but she likely wants nothing to do with him after this. Besides, it's not like he is obligated to pick up any future calls, or answer any texts.

One, two, a pause, and then two knocks in double time. Like a secret code between the pair of them. Minho grins at Jeongin when the door is quickly answered.

“Hi, hyung.” Jeongin opens the door wider and lets Minho step inside. “I got the chicken out of the freezer like you asked me to. It’s sitting in cold water in the sink. Has been since I got home, so it should be thawed now.”

Kicking off his shoes, Minho slides his feet into the pair of house slippers that are reserved especially for his use. Wandering towards the kitchen, he calls back over his shoulder, “If you managed that, maybe I’ll let you help a little more with dinner, Iyen-ah.”

Minho chuckles as he hears Jeongin groan, following him into the kitchen. At least he’s learned to keep an extra container of spaghetti sauce in the apartment since the last time they’d cooked dinner together. A jar of sauce had landed on the floor that night. Jeongin swore it jumped right off the counter, ‘like a lemming’ he’d claimed. However, Minho knew that had to be false; Jisung had informed him that lemmings leaping off cliffs wasn’t actually true. The poor creatures weren’t that stupid. They just had a bad reputation. Luckily, Minho’s well stocked pantry had saved their meal, another jar easily retrieved from four floors up.

The chicken is thawed, and Minho sets the oven to preheat. Roasted chicken and vegetables with some rice. He isn’t willing to let Jeongin near a knife given how clumsy he usually is, and how distracted he might be having broken things off with Daehyun. “I trust you still remember how to use your rice cooker?”

A snort is the quick answer, swiftly followed by Jeongin taking the rice out of the pantry cupboard, rinsing three cups in cold water, and then setting it into the rice cooker and turning on the power. “You going to let me help cut any of that, or should I just sit?”

Minho arches a brow and turns his face to glance at Jeongin before he continues to cut the vegetables. He smirks as he hears the skitter of chair legs against the floor, and a huff as Jeongin sits down. Jeongin’s scent of stale bread hasn’t worsened, so Minho knows he isn’t really displeased. 

“So, when were you going to tell me about Daehyun?” There is a creak as Jeongin shifts in his chair, and Minho looks over again to find Jeongin chewing at the end of his index finger. Minho really is shit at these sorts of conversations. Jeongin has any number of hyungs who could do better. “You don’t have to talk about it if you really don’t want to, but I’m here if you do.”

“It’s…it’s not like I wasn’t going to tell you. I was. I just wanted to wallow a bit?” Jeongin sounds uncertain as his wet finger slips from the side of his mouth and into his lap. “I’m just so tired of ending up with the wrong people, Minho-hyung. He seemed great. Things were going so well, but turns out none of it was real, and it just hurts. I keep making bad choices. Being with the wrong people.”

Minho scowls as he hears Jeongin take on the blame for what happened. Daehyun had the appearance of everything that Jeongin claims to want in a partner: friendly, helpful, respectful and supportive. It is hardly Jeongin’s fault that what Daehyun had presented himself to be was just a thin veneer. “He did seem great, but people can hide who they really are, and that’s not any fault in you, but in him. I’m glad you figured him out before you were mated, cause I know you’d started talking about it.”

Jeongin’s smile looks wan and worn, as if it has been donned only out of habit. “Yeah, I guess if I was looking for the good part of what happened over the weekend, that’d be it.”

With the last of the vegetables cut up, Minho arranges everything on the baking sheet and slides it into the oven. He knows Jeongin doesn’t often consent to hugs and Minho rarely offers, but maybe he will make an exception tonight. Stepping closer to the chair Jeongin is sitting in, he opens his arms. “Give your favourite hyung a hug. I can’t make it better, but you’ll always have me.”

When Jeongin approaches, Minho wraps his arms around his waist and turns his head to press against Jeongin’s chest. He is inches away from his omega’s scent gland, and feels surrounded by the comfort of walking past a bakery in the early morning where the first loaves are just being pulled out of the oven. It seems that whatever it is Minho is doing appears to be working. No more stale mouldy bread.

As Jeongin’s chin rests upon Minho’s shoulder, Jeongin startles and almost pulls back. Minho’s arms stay tight, but ready to release him if Jeongin wants to be free and does move further away. But Jeongin just stills and sighs before asking, “Why are you even here? I know Felix texted you, but I just remembered you had that big date with Sanghee. You made reservations a month ago.”

It’s Minho’s turn to snort, “Yeah, well, we won’t have to worry about her anymore either. Seems she can’t accept that my friendships are important, and spending time with you tonight was where I needed to be.” He pulls Jeongin closer, letting his own scent of pine trees and mountain streams mingle with that of fresh cut bread. “I already knew it wasn’t going to work out. She gets jealous and there is nothing I can do to convince her that it’s her that I want to be with.” He shrugs, jostling Jeongin’s head upon his shoulder, prompting a disgruntled huff. Minho chuckles, “Besides, the cancellation fee is less expensive than the dinner I’d have paid for.”

“Hyung, that’s evil,” Jeongin chuckles as well, and Minho feels him relax, as he leans into the hug an inch more. “Seems we both need to do a better job of selecting the people we date.”

Minho hides his smile against Jeongin as his arms tighten and he feels the way they align, Jeongin being a bit taller, curving towards him. “Hmm.” With a deadpan tone, hoping it will amuse Jeongin, he quips, “Fighting!”

“You can change your mind, Jeongin-ah. No pressure. Like, if there’s any time, you know, where you think this might not be a good idea, or you’re not up for it, you can say no.” Chan’s hand is heavy on his shoulder. “We’re all here to get some answers about how this all is going to work. So, if anything sounds like it’s too much, then you can tell us. We won’t be mad, or upset, or anything. I promise. You too, right Felix?”

Felix nods and his smile is sunny, full of warmth. Jeongin wants to bask in it and the surrounding refrain of nutty, fudge brownies. “Right Channie. Don’t do anything you don’t want to, Jeongin. It’s a lot, what you’ve offered to do for us. It means so much to me, to us, that you’d even consider it.”

“Alright. I’ll listen and ask my questions, and if I don’t like the answers, I know I can change my mind.” Not that he will. It isn’t only about making Chan and Felix happy. This is something he wants for himself. He isn’t sure he can really explain it to anyone else; the need to carry a pup. He isn’t ready to have one of his own, at least not if he has to care for it alone. He wants to be a parent, but he wants a family more. One with a stable foundation, a mate he loves and knows loves him in return. He is starting to feel like that is never going to be a reality for him. 

With his parents and Chan and Felix providing examples of what solid relationships look like, he knows he’ll never be able to settle for anything less than what they had found for themselves. He wants the whole seemingly impossible for him to realise dream. He is stubborn. He knows it, but he doesn’t think he is stupid or foolish about it. He isn’t going to settle when it comes to who he is willing to accept as a mate. He also isn’t going to change his mind about being a surrogate for Chan and Felix. He just knows that stubbornly insisting he won’t change his mind now will make them worry, so he agrees to consider it, even knowing he won’t.

As they wait for their appointment, though their scents don’t change, a seabreeze brimming with hints of warm chocolate, Jeongin can tell they were anxious. Chan keeps tapping fingers against his leg like he does when he is distracting himself with music and Felix is attempting to circumspectly take his pulse, his fingers pressed to his neck. As he watches, Chan reaches over and takes Felix’s arm, pulling his hand away from his neck, so Chan can weave their fingers together; no more checking pulses or tapping music. Jeongin feels his heart yearn. This is what he wants. Someone who knows him well enough to understand his mannerisms and lend support the moment he needs it.

He is reaching for a magazine, tired of trying to think of something to say, or dealing with his own exhausting swirling thoughts when they are called into a room where the doctor is waiting. Dr. Park introduces herself and welcomes them into the room. She seems unassuming, bespectacled with her hair tucked into a bun, wearing black slacks and a long white lab jacket. A stethoscope hangs around her neck, and the left deep pocket of her lab coat is stained with blue ink, a couple pen clipped to the edge of the pocket for easy access. “We have a presentation we go through with all clients who are considering in vitro fertilisation. How about we go through that, and then you can ask any questions? We can then proceed with setting up follow up appointments for the various procedures if you wish. Hmm?”

After receiving their agreement, the doctor walks them through a series of slides which takes them through the process. From the hormone treatments to ensure they have fertile eggs to extract, to the insemination and then the implantation, it is all covered. The entire process will take roughly four to six weeks, and best results are achieved when the eggs are implanted in the omega during their heat. Jeongin, trying with composure not to blush, responded to the doctor’s inquiry that his heat is usually early in spring or autumn, with the next one likely around mid September.

“Then, with that timeline, if you wish to proceed, we’ll need to start both Felix and Jeongin on their hormone treatments within the next two weeks. Felix will have ovum extracted roughly two weeks later, and the eggs will need to mature for almost another week. That spans the same time frame Jeongin needs to ensure his womb is prepared to accept the embryo. If we have the timeline correct with your heat, then we’ll be able to implant some of the fresh embryos and freeze the rest should you need or want them in the future. If not, then we can freeze all of them, and implant thawed embryos when Jeongin’s heat arrives. There’s minimal difference between fresh and frozen embryos resulting in a pregnancy; it’s just a matter of timing.” Dr. Park pokes her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. “Any questions?”

“How painful will the egg extraction process be?” Felix asks, his small fingers clutching the ends of Chan’s tightly.

“Ah, it will be uncomfortable, but we do use meditation and mild sedation to reduce discomfort, and the use of an ultrasound ensures we’ll be guided directly to where the ovaries are located and the best eggs are extracted. You’ll experience some soreness afterwards, and I recommend only light exercise for a few days.”

Jeongin raises his hand to catch the doctor’s attention. It seems you can take the teacher out of school, but you can’t take the schooling out of the teacher, he thinks wryly. “What effects can I expect with the hormones you mentioned?”

“It will seem much like pre-heat, as your body prepares for the possibility of carrying a pup. Your uterus will fill with amniotic fluid, and that will thicken to properly cushion a pup. You may feel bloated, and the hormones may cause you to feel a need to nest.” She looks at Chan and Felix. “It would likely be a good idea to ensure you have supplied some items with your scent that Jeongin can nest with.”

Chan nods and looks at Jeongin, while Felix reaches over to hold Jeongin’s hand too. “Yeah, yeah we can do that. We’d be happy to do that for you.”

“Good.” The doctor seems relieved at the quick response. “I’ve found, and studies do support this, that a pregnant person, but especially a pregnant omega, thrives when they have a mate, or a support structure. While the studies also indicate that an alpha partner is best, the results only significantly decrease when the omega lacks someone who they can rely upon.” Dr. Park’s expression is stern when she looks at Chan and Felix. “You may find it more difficult than you’d imagined to stand by Jeongin while he carries your pup. While we are civilised, there is still much in each of us that would run wild through the woods, and mating and carrying pups tend to bring even the most cultured of us to savagery. Jeongin, because of the pup, will begin to have hints of your own scents underlying his own. This will only grow stronger as the pregnancy progresses.” She offers each of them a pamphlet. “This contains a list of doctors, therapists and support groups that you may find helpful.”

Jeongin folds his pamphlet and tucks it into his pocket. “Thank you, Dr. Park. I don’t have any further questions.” He turns to face his hyungs, “If this is still what you want, then I want to help.”

He feels Felix’s fingers tighten and his own lips curve to mirror his growing smile. “I do. Jeongin-ah, thank you.”

Chan leans towards Felix. “You promised you wouldn’t cry, little one.”

Jeongin can only laugh, “Hyung, you should know better by now.” How beautiful Felix looks smiling, with those tears. It is worth it now, and Jeongin is confident it will be even more worth the effort when the two of them are both crying, holding their pup.

Though Chan and Felix drop him off at his apartment building, Jeongin doesn’t stop at the fourth floor, going all the way up to the eighth instead. He opens the apartment door carefully and sneaks inside, closing it behind him. Minho’s going to be late due to practice and he doesn’t need Soonie, Doongie or Dori escaping when he is over to feed them. Jeongin hears a plaintive m’row as he takes off his shoes and finds his house slippers. Minho had given them to him one day, for no particular reason, stating that Jeongin resembled the foxes on them, and because they live so close. It had taken Hyunjin putting a picture of one of the slippers alongside a closed-eyed smiling Jeongin for him to see the resemblance. He was a little irked, but also endeared by it. If he tends to pout a little every time he puts them on, no one takes him to task for it.

Leaving his jacket on a hook by the door, he makes his way to the kitchen while trying not to trip over cats entwining around his ankles and m’rowing for food. “Yes, yes. I’m getting you food, greedy guts. Your regular cat butler won’t be home until much later. So long as you don’t have me breaking a leg or twisting an ankle, you’ll have dinner soon.”

Soonie, Doongie and Dori align themselves by their bowls, looking up at him with tilted heads, eyes wide in judgement. How dare he take so long to feed them, they seem to glare!

Pouring food into their bowls, Jeongin continues to chatter at them, though he hardly expects any of the three to carry their part of the conversation. “I was thinking, I’d order dinner so our hyung doesn’t need to cook when he gets home. What do you think? Sushi? I think that’d be a good idea. I won’t be able to eat it soon. It’ll be bad for the pup.”

The only contribution from the cats is the crunch of dry kibble. Jeongin smiles at them and giggles while he snags a drink from the fridge and goes to sit on the couch. Tapping at his phone screen, he browses through the delivery app until he finds Minho’s favourite Japanese restaurant, beginning to select items. He adds a couple bottles of soju too. After all, he won’t be drinking for a while after this, so he may as well celebrate a little. 

It is the start of a weekend, and he likely doesn’t have to worry about a hangover; Minho will push glass upon glass of water upon him throughout the evening, with his typical stubborn and understated care. It still surprises Jeongin to hear people describe his hyung as cold or uncaring. Or, perhaps surprise isn’t the right word, exactly, when he thinks about it. They just seem unobservant. If they only listened for words of caring, rather than looking at the acts, he supposes he can understand. That is their fault though, if they can’t see for themselves just how much Minho does for those around him. So quiet in his care, subtle and persistent. Maybe it’s like a flip book, and if one doesn't slow down to go through the pages, it’s possible to miss the story.

Putting through the order, Jeongin swipes the remote off the coffee table before leaning back and turning on some anime to watch while he waits. He sends Minho a quick text.

Your brothers are fed and I’m keeping them company. Food will be waiting for you when you get here. Don’t worry. I didn’t cook.

The ping of his phone indicating Minho’s response is some time in coming. Jeongin rolls his eyes when he reads it and returns to petting Dori, who has snuck into his lap. “I can cook you know,” he confides in the grey cat. “It’s just one of those things I do better when no one’s looking at me. Like how you can fumble while typing if someone’s watching you? It’s like that!”

Good to know I won’t come home to a firetruck cleaning up after you.

Minho catches Jeongin valiantly striving not to nap, a purring Dori on his lap, when he enters his apartment. “Yah, brat, who said you could hang out tonight?” He grins as Jeongin sits up straight, dislodging the poor cat who jumps down from the couch and slinks off to the cat tree.

Jeongin blinks up at him unevenly. “Well,” he drawls, “if you don’t want the sushi I ordered, I’ll just pick it up when it gets here and head back down to my apartment.”

Minho slings himself into the couch and nuzzles up into Jeongin’s side. “Alright, you can stay.”

Jeongin pushes him away. “Ewww. Hyung, go have a shower before the food gets here. You’re sweaty.”

“But I don’t stink,” Minho smirks, knowing that isn’t true.

“You’re as fresh as daisies,” Jeongin snarks back, pushing him further away. “Go. Food’ll be here in ten.”

Minho groans as he rises from the couch and his knees pop. He stretches, holding his hands over his head, careful not to let his t-shirt rise past his waistband. Even a decade later, he is still self-conscious of the surgery scar. “I’ll probably feel less stiff after a shower.”

“Hmm. You’re getting old, hyung.” What a cheeky maknae.

Turning around, Minho raises a brow, “Or maybe I’ll just fall and lay all over you, too old and tired to move.”

Jeongin has the audacity to giggle. “Sorry hyung. Go on, go shower.”

Minho dances out of the room, just to hear the snort Jeongin can’t contain, and usually tries to hide when he is amused. He feels fortunate that Jeongin lives close by. He doesn’t like to leave his cats for long hours alone in the apartment. He could put out enough food and water for them, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t lonely for some human companionship. Knowing they are comfortable around Jeongin, pleased to spend time near him, letting him pet them and purring as they headbutt his hands for attention eases Minho’s apprehension when he has to work late or longer hours. Even better, Jeongin is as much of a homebody as he is, and is easily found in his apartment rather than out and about. A quick text is enough to have Jeongin using the keycode to come care for the three cats.

He’d been watching Jeongin carefully since finding out he cut ties with Daehyun. In the past, Jeongin tended to react to a break up with malaise, not sulky like Jisung could be, and not a more dramatic depression like Hyunjin. From Jeongin, it seems more lethargic with a side of apathy. As if he couldn’t be bothered to do anything, and couldn’t find a reason to care. Perhaps it is more ambivalence than apathy. Now though, Jeongin doesn’t seem that way. It surprises Minho, and concerns him. He wonders if Jeongin is reconsidering, or is it just the relationship wasn’t as deep as Minho originally thought it had been.

Deep thoughts for a shower. Minho shakes himself free of his pensive mood as he runs his fingers through his hair, helping the water to clear away the shampoo, then turns around and lets the spray wash off all the soap before he shuts off the shower and reaches a hand out for a towel. He dries himself off, and tousles a towel over his head before looping it over his neck and dressing in a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. They are staying in and comfort is priority.

He returns to the living room to find Jeongin still on the couch. Dori has returned to his lap, Soonie rests against his side, and he is playing fetch with Doongie, using a catnip mouse. Not a single one of them makes an effort to show they’ve noticed Minho’s return. Typical cats. “It’s like they don’t even need me anymore, now that you’re here.”

“Ah, hyung, I’m sure that’s not true. I wouldn’t give them nearly as many treats as you do. They’d miss you.” Jeongin lifts his head to rest it against the back of the couch so he can look up. He then smirks. “Eventually.”

Minho leans over him, and with his damp hair shakes his head, splattering Jeongin with droplets of water and cackling when Jeongin sputters in displeasure.

“Yah, get over here,” Jeongin insists, patting the couch beside him, Soonie having left when the water works started. When Minho sits down, Jeongin steals the towel from around his neck and then begins drying his hair, rubbing the towel in gentle circles. Feels nice. 

“Did you want something to drink with dinner?” Minho offers, remembering this is his apartment and he should probably be a good host.

“Ordered soju with the sushi.”

“Are we celebrating?” Minho tilts his head in consideration.

“No. Not exactly.” Jeongin seems hesitant to continue, but Minho can be patient. “I uh…I expect I’ll likely need some help in the next few months.”

“So, this is a bribe, Iyen-ah?”

“I didn’t think of it that way, but maybe?” As Jeongin starts to sound uncertain, Minho begins to worry. 

Nudging the younger with his shoulder, he slides closer on the couch. “I was teasing. If you need help, I’ll be there.”

Jeongin flashes him a bright smile, though he’s started worrying at the edge of his left thumb with his fingernails again.

There is a knock at the door, so Minho supposes the doorman let the delivery person up to drop off their food. “Let me get our dinner, then we’ll talk more, hmm?” Minho pats Jeongin’s shoulder as he rises from the couch to collect their bounty.

He stops by the kitchen to snag some glasses to drink the soju from, a pair of chopsticks, a couple plates and some spoons to serve with. Returning to the table, he divides the cutlery and dishes, then sorts out the food and hands the soju bottle to Jeongin so he can pour. Rather than returning to the couch, Minho sits on the floor, as it is an easier distance to eat at from the coffee table.

Jeongin slumps off the couch, almost boneless, to join him on the rug. Minho puts out a hand, just in case of any soju bottle mishaps, but Jeongin seems surprisingly stable tonight, no signs of clumsy accidents to be found.

He waits until Jeongin finishes pouring and puts down the bottle before Minho attempts to resume their conversation. “What brought all this on?” he asks, circling his chopsticks above their meal.

“I didn’t want you to have to cook when you got home.” When Minho raises his brow, Jeongin huffs, “I didn’t, but I also wanted to tell you about something. You know how Chan-hyung and Felix-hyung have been trying to have a pup?”

“Hmm.” It would be a hard detail to miss at this point. So much heartache for the both of them, yet their relationship seems stronger in the wake of all the sorrow. Relationship goals, Minho inwardly sighs.

“The doctor who treated Felix-hyung last told them they didn’t have a hope of bringing a pup to term, and trying might end up in…I don’t even want to think it, never mind say it,” Jeongin sighs, and the downturn of his lips is something rarely seen. Minho would have leaned in to offer him some comfort, but his scent remains the same. These are just facts, as upsetting as they may be, they aren’t causing Jeongin to be upset now. “They’re looking into options, like adoption and surrogacy or fostering. Felix-hyung and I talked about it the other day, you know, after that weekend.”

Minho nods and puts a round of sushi on Jeongin’s plate, gesturing with his chopsticks to eat before taking some food for himself.

It had ceased to shock Minho a long time ago just how easy it seems for Jeongin to shove so much food into his mouth. Nor can he explain how he can manage to chew the large mouthfuls and swallow them without choking, but he’s stopped trying to determine how that works. “I offered to help them out,” he mumbles around the food.

Lifting his head from his food, his chopsticks hovering over his side of rice, Minho blinks slowly at Jeongin, while he tries to parse the meaning of those words. “You offered to help?” Help, how? 

Jeongin nods, though he looks off to the side, as if he can’t meet Minho’s eyes. “Mhmm. I said I’d be their surrogate, if they wanted.”

Minho almost fumbles his chopsticks, but catches them tightly in his fist before they can clatter on the table. This is an unexpected turn to this conversation, and one he suspects Jeongin is worried he’d be judged for making. Or perhaps he is worried that Minho will try to talk him out of it? 

Why won’t Jeongin meet his eyes? 

“Iyen-ah, look at me.”

He watches as Jeongin curls into himself before reluctantly turning to face him. Minho puts his chopsticks down and reaches out to cover Jeongin’s knee with a hand. “I’m certain it means the world to them that you offered.”

Beneath his hand, the tension in Jeongin seems to ease. His head tilts up, and his lips curve into a small smile. “The three of us consulted with a doctor today. We’ve worked out all the details. I’m a little worried, but mostly happy. They’ll be wonderful parents. If anyone deserves to have a pup, they do.” Jeongin’s hand covers Minho’s own, so large and solid and warm. “I was a little worried you’d try to talk me out of this.”

“Why? I’m not your alpha.” Minho twitches away from whatever thoughts might follow those words, not letting them take root in his brain. He then shakes his head. “No, and even if I was, I wouldn’t. This is your body and your decision to make. I’d have wanted to know you were considering it, but the decision, it would have had nothing to do with me. All I’d need to do would be to decide if I would support you.” He takes a moment, feeling his palms grow damp and clears his throat. “I would. I will. If that’s what you’re asking. If you want to know if I’ll help when you need it, I will.”

The brilliance of Jeongin’s smile is blinding. The hint of apricot to his fresh bread scent reveals how pleased he is at Minho’s response. “See, this is why you’re my favourite hyung.” He circles his chopsticks over the food before piling on another huge mouthful, which is promptly devoured.

Favourite hyung, Minho thinks with a smile of his own, tucking into his dinner once more.

Chapter Text

“Here,” Minho insists as he hands over the seaweed soup. He’s portioning out the dishes the waitress had delivered. “This will be good for you.”

Jeongin accepts the bowl, while still merrily chewing on the bossam that Minho had only moments ago wrapped up and offered to him. 

Seeing Jeongin is still mid-mouthful, Minho turns to his own food and fills his mouth before picking up the bowl of rice, spooning some onto Jeongin’s plate and adding a thick slice of kimchi beside it.

Jeongin’s eyes widen and he holds his large hand over his mouth. “Hyung,” he protests, hoping his palm covers his blush, “I can feed myself.”

Minho glares at him. “If Chan were here, he’d insist you eat first.” This is the only friend group he has where that is true. Usually the youngest serves the elders, and then eats, but for the eight of them, Jeongin has always been served and eaten first. Chan had made that decision early in their friendship, based on his own family, where the youngest were to be protected and cared for; they are the ones least able to do so for themselves. While they are all grown adults now, the mindset hasn’t changed. In the beginning, Jeongin had been pampered, but never spoiled. Now,it's the youngest who continues to indulge the rest of them by permitting their continued care.

Swallowing, Jeongin smirks at him. “He’d also be insisting you eat, because you’re also younger. So, eat.” 

Minho grunts and grumbles as he eats a few more bites. “Have you seen him or Felix lately?”

“Not since just after my heat. They brought me home after the procedure. Felix made me a batch of cookies and brought me some herbal teas.” Jeongin has a spoonful of soup. “Why? Have you heard something?”

Minho shakes his head. “No, nothing like that. I’m a little surprised I’ve not seen them lurking around the apartment building to check in on you.”

That pronouncement summons a chuckle from Jeongin. “They have been texting me regularly, and they call me most nights just after dinner. It’s still too early to know anything. The soonest we can test is next week.”

“Hmm.” Minho glances at Jeongin’s plate, and then makes another bossam to feed to him. “How are you feeling?”

Jeongin looks down his nose at Minho, his mouth full as he chews through the large portion he’d just been fed. It takes a while before he swallows and can answer. “I haven’t noticed any changes. At least, nothing different from when I first started taking the pills. Maybe a little tender here and there, but even if I’m going to be sick in the mornings, it’s a little too soon for that.”

Minho cocks his head to the side in contemplation. Jeongin appears remarkably calm, not that he’d expected him to be otherwise. Jeongin has always carried this aura of competency to him; that if he sets his mind to something it isn’t a matter of if, but when he would accomplish his goal. It has been worrisome to watch him struggle with his relationships of late, knowing how much having a family means to him.

Since they’d met up in the apartment lobby to head to lunch today, Minho had thought something was off. Just a little odd, but he’s not able to determine what it is. As the host of the restaurant walks by with a family and seats them nearby, the combined scents of the group registers and he manages to figure out what is missing. “Are you wearing scent blockers?”

Jeongin blinks at him as if the question is the strangest thing to ask. “Uh, no.”

Minho shrugs, not wanting to alarm him. “Your scent seems a little subdued. If you hadn’t told me otherwise, I’d have thought you’d seen Chan and Felix recently. I thought I caught a trace of them on you earlier.”

“Oh. That could be a good thing,” Jeongin smiles as he uses some kimchi to help pile rice onto his chopsticks.

Furrowing his brows, Minho tries to figure out exactly what that means while Jeongin finishes chewing. As an only child, he has limited experience around pregnant people, most of it in the later months when the pregnancy is already visually evident. He suspects he’ll need to start doing some research. “Explain.”

“While pregnant, a person can often exhibit scent notes of their partner. I didn’t know that would be possible, or that I might end up with both their scents.” Jeongin shrugs. “It could be nothing though. Could just be I haven’t worn this scarf since I saw them last, or something like that.”

Minho wonders if he looks into early pregnancy signs he’d find that piece of information for himself. What else could he be missing? As the hyung in closest proximity, he takes his duty to be there for Jeongin seriously. Besides, he needs to keep his favourite hyung title. He isn’t going to let anyone just swoop in and steal it. “You’ve been working out with Jisung and Changbin lately, right?”

“Yeah. It’s not always easy to meet up with them, but it’s been good for me.” Jeongin’s happy mood declines into a frown. “I guess I’ll have to give that up too.”

“Maybe. You should talk to the doctor about it when you meet next, and pass on any fitness recommendations to Changbin,” Minho advises, while piling more food onto Jeongin’s plate. “You know how he is about fitness plans. He’ll figure out a new rotation for you. Ask about food restrictions and nutrition too.”

The smile reappears on Jeongin’s face. “I’m not giving Changbin my food and nutrition list. He’ll make me put it all in a shake. Eww.”

Minho chuckles. “No, that list is for me. I’ll make sure you and the pup stay healthy.”

Jeongin ducks his head, but that doesn’t hide the dusty pink of his cheeks. “I can take care of myself, hyung.”

“I’m not saying you can’t, Iyen-ah.” Minho looks at him fondly, feeling the tips of his ears turning a similar shade. “But you can let me help.”

Jeongin looks at him, his expression wry and his words dry. “As if I could prevent you.”

Minho smirks. “Best not to even try.”

The official appointment with the doctor isn’t for another week, but Jeongin is impatient. It’s been two and a half weeks, and that is soon enough for some tests to be able to tell, so he stops off at the pharmacy on the way home and picks up a few to try. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if they give conflicting results, but he figures he’ll be no worse off than he is now, just more impatient for the appointment with Doctor Park.

He’d planned on purchasing a large bottle of water to promptly drink on the bus ride so he’d be ready to pee once he got home, but the cashier said that it would dilute the tests. It is best to just wait. With chagrin, he knows he has a lot of peeing in his future if he makes use of the tests he’d bought. Feeling excited, with a side of anxiousness, his body jitters as he sits on the bus. He keeps having to pull his fingers out of his mouth when he realises he is once again chewing at them.

It’s impulsive to pick up the tests, but he’s also seeing Chan and Felix for dinner that night, and he wants to have some good news to share with them. They’ve been patient with him, and careful in their questions. He hasn’t felt pressed or pressured, but he can still tell they are hopeful and anticipating while also scared to let themselves hope. Jeongin wants to set them at ease, and having test results that are positive would do that for them. It is progress, still much too early to know that everything would go well, but it is something. A little something he can offer them. He knows the odds at this point. Twenty percent of pregnancies result in miscarriage, most during the first trimester. Given how miscarriages tend to be treated with shame, there are odds that some people don’t even report their miscarriages. There is also the possibility that some people don’t even realise they were pregnant when they do miscarry. So, Jeongin figures the odds are a little worse than what is stated.

Even with those odds, and knowing the heartbreak Chan and Felix have faced in the past, he’s hopeful. Even knowing that nothing indicates that he is pregnant and the pup has caught yet, he believes. He still has this feeling, one he can’t explain but feels nonetheless, that this is meant to happen. He is meant to carry this pup.

While waiting for the need to urinate, he opens the packages and reads the instructions. They are all simple: just pee on the stick. Should be easy for him, he figures. Being a male omega has its advantages. Point and shoot. The instructions recommend collecting urine in a disposable cup, and then pouring onto the stick. He imagines he could skip that step, but then remembers how clumsy he can be, and imagines trying to juggle the different tests while peeing, and goes to fetch one. He just needs to wait until he has to go, pour urine on the sticks, and then wait another five minutes and hope for the appropriate results. 

It occurs to Jeongin that this is the first time he’s ever waited around to pee. It’s boring. It’s right up there with watching a kettle boil or paint dry. He could try to distract himself, but his thoughts are too wrapped up in this, that even if he tries, he doesn’t think it will work very well. May as well try to play games on his phone, read a book, watch a show. So he does. He tries all of that, and all his brain wants to think about is how much he wants to pee, even if he doesn’t really need to at that very moment.

A little ridiculous. That’s how it feels. He wants to reach out and talk to a friend, but he figures the first people to know what he is up to should be Chan and Felix, and he isn’t going to tell them about this if the tests don’t prove positive. They could be false negatives, and he doesn’t want to worry them for nothing, so he just sits, and tries not to chew on his fingers until he finally feels the need to pee.

Holding the test in one hand, and his dick in the other makes it reasonably easy to catch the stream of urine in the paper cup. Just carefully pour until all three tests are used. He finishes up, washes his hands, and sets a timer and once again he waits. At least this time, he knows just how long it is going to take. Though, he still spends most of that time refusing to chew on his fingers, and pulling them back out of his mouth when he fails.

He’s startled when the timer starts blaring loudly, and he reaches over to swipe at his phone to turn it off. His heart beats faster than normal, not just from the shock of the alarm going off, but also from the trepidation of looking at the results. With a sigh, he looks over at the tests. Not looking wouldn’t change anything, and he does want to know. There is no point in avoiding the results. He looks over to find a cross, two lines, and a yes. He cheers, his fist raised in the air as he jumps around in his bathroom until he catches his reflection in the mirror.

Smiling, he puts all the results into ziploc bags and puts them on the table by the door to his apartment. He’ll bring them with him to dinner.

First, he has to get ready.

A shower and a change of clothes later, and he has roughly five minutes to get himself downstairs before Chan and Felix arrive to pick him up. He grabs his jacket out of the closet, shoves the ziploc baggies into its pocket, and then slings his feet into his shoes before he races out the door. Jeongin takes the elevator down, because he refuses to be sweaty and winded when he gets into their car.

He is waiting outside when the sedan pulls up. Felix rolls down the window, a smile on his lips. “Ready for a good meal? Channie says it’s his treat.”

Jeongin grins as he opens the back door and slides into the car. “Are we celebrating?”

“Of course.” Chan glances up at the rear view mirror and waits for Jeongin to put on his seat belt before he drives away from the apartment. “What do you want to eat, Innie?”

“Food!” Jeongin says to give himself a few moments to think. Sushi is out. Even if he didn’t know the results, it would still be out. Raw fish is not on the menu. He is going to eat so much of it afterwards, drag Minho and Jisung with him. They’ll get so sick of it. “Hmm. Barbeque?”

Felix nods and turns to Chan. “There’s that place nearby? It was good, right? Just a few blocks from here.”

“Yeah, we’ll go there. Good choice, Jeongin-ah.”

Jeongin hums along with the tune on the radio as Chan drives, Felix leans over the centre console to rest his head upon Chan’s shoulder. “Jisung-hyung mentioned you were having some trouble with the bridge of your new song the other day. Did you get it sorted out?”

“Oh, yeah. We got that figured out. I can send you the demo for it later, if you want,” Chan offers freely. 

“Course I want it, hyung.” While Jeongin does enjoy listening to what 3RACHA is working on, he also knows that Chan loves sharing his music. It’s the reason why he continues to create and produce, hoping that his music will hold meaning for those who listen. 

Chan pulls up to the curb at the restaurant, letting Felix and Jeongin out so they can get a table while he parks the car. Soon they are all sitting around the table, all of them drinking soda out of solidarity with Jeongin, who can’t drink. Chan insists on grilling the meat when it arrives. The table is cluttered with side dishes which they all pick at while waiting for the meat to be done.

“Hyung, you’ll have to cook mine well done,” Jeongin sighs. It’s for a good cause. He can handle his beef less pink than he’d like. “I’m glad we all got together today. I have news for you.”

Felix leans closer. “You’ve discovered a new musical prodigy?”

Jeongin laughs. “No, not that. You know how impatient I am.”

Chan grins and shakes his head. “Did you break something rushing out the door?” He glances at Felix. “I told you we were never getting your brownie container back.”

Jeongin groans, “No, that’s not it either. I’m sorry I forgot to bring it down.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Maybe I won’t tell you.”

Felix whines cutely, and Jeongin hears his feet kicking against the rung of his chair. “No. Don’t be mean to me because Chan-hyung was teasing.”

Giggling, Jeongin pulls the ziploc bags from his jacket pocket and hands them over to Felix. “You can share that with Chan-hyung if you think he should be forgiven for teasing me so ruthlessly. It’s not my fault I’m so clumsy. The world conspires against me!”

He can sense the moment that Felix recognizes what he’s holding. The gasp of his inhale, the sudden tense stillness to his body and then the nervous tremble of his fingers as he turns the tests within the bag to see the results. All this followed with the hint of wetness to his waterline as he angles the tests towards Chan to share the results. “Jeongin-ah, the appointment is next week.”

“I said I was impatient!”

Abandoning the tests upon the table, Felix rises from his seat to crouch beside Jeongin, pulling him into a tight hug. There are some sniffling noises, which Jeongin chooses to ignore, along with the increasing dampness of his shirt collar. His own arms encircle Felix, and pat his back. The tears are happy ones, the sweetness of fudge and brownies surrounds him.

“Oh, I shouldn’t be hugging you so tightly!” Felix pulls back and sniffles back some more tears. He then blinks and tilts his head. “You, Jeongin, you smell like us. Just a little, and it’s not just cause you were in our car.”

He nods. “Yup. Minho-hyung told me the other day that I smelt a little off, subdued, and asked if I’d see you both recently. He didn’t know that could happen during pregnancy.”

Chan clears his throat before he speaks, and he still sounds rough, “Ah, well, this is better than a musical prodigy. If we never get that brownie container back, I don’t care. What brownie container?”

Jeongin giggles as Felix releases him to wipe at his tears and retake his seat. Chan pulls Jeongin’s attention with a sound of dismay. The meat from the grill has accidentally seared longer than ideal, the edges adhering to the hot metal. Jeongin covers his mouth with his hand as he giggles again, eyes closed in mirth.

From there, dinner progresses as it normally does. Chan feeds Jeongin first, then Felix. They speak of their days, how work is treating them, the new brand deal that Felix’s agent is working on, the new tracks Chan is putting together with Changbin and Jisung, and the struggles of Jeongin’s students. 

It is only after all the meat was cooked, and consumed, as Jeongin leans back in his chair, his hand over his distended stomach feeling ever so full that the underlying scent tickles his nose. The brownie smell seems too sweet, the edges crisp to the point of being burnt. For all that Felix is wearing his usual sunny smile, something is flawed. 

Leaning closer, Jeongin offers his hand to Felix on the table. “Is everything okay, hyung?”

Only because Jeongin is paying close attention does he see the moment where Felix’s smile slips before he plasters it back on his face like a mask. It is as if Felix is locking down his emotions; even his omega scent becomes self contained, no longer emanating from him. “Yeah. Everything’s fine, Jeongin-ah. I couldn’t be happier.”

Chan gets up from the table, if the chair legs moving over the floor make any sound, it is lost amidst the chatter from the other patrons. “I’m going to go pay, then we’ll head home, yeah? It’s getting late.”

Jeongin smiles up at Chan, and once he’s out of earshot, he turns to Felix again, his expression full of concern. “Felix-hyung, what’s going on? I…you’re happy?”

Felix doesn’t look at him and his low tone is snippy when he says, “I am happy.” The words are staccato, with the way they are bitten off as they leave his mouth.

Jeongin curls in on himself, “Did I do something to upset you?”

“No. We’re fine.” There is no change in Felix’s tone, and Jeongin feels that pushing won’t help, so he hides a sigh, keeping it to himself, and waits for Chan to return.

When Chan walks up to the table, he picks up his jacket and puts it around Jeongin’s shoulders. “The breeze from the door was a little cold. It’s getting chilly out.”

Felix reaches over, snatches the jacket from around Jeongin’s shoulders and holds it close to his chest, pressing his face into the collar, before he glares with anger at Jeongin. There is a fierce nip to his tone. “Mine.”

Chan moves closer to Felix, holding out his hand as if to place it on his mate’s shoulder, only for Felix to hiss at him.

In shock, Jeongin stumbles as he pushes away from the table, his chair clattering against the floor as it falls over. 

He needs to get away. 

“Um.I’m just going to call a taxi,” Jeongin says, voice shaking.“I’ll see you both later.” He can hear Chan trying to object, and Felix growls in response. Raising his hand, Jeongin waves Chan off. “Just…It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

His hands fumble as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, and it bounces between his hands until he gets a firm white knuckled grip on it. He puts in the taxi order and waits outside, downwind from the parking lot, where he knows Chan and Felix will be going to collect their car.

The weather isn’t particularly cold on that autumn evening, but Jeongin shivers regardless. He’d thought this would have been a joyful and fun evening out with his friends. He didn’t imagine that it would be anything else, but Felix doesn’t seem particularly happy. Even though this is what his friend wants, it upset him, or at least, upset his wolf. He scowls, pulling his finger from his mouth. He really needs to quit doing that. 

He tries to figure out what might have caused Felix to be upset. He knows emotions can be complex, and often illogical. That it doesn’t need to make sense and that it is just what it is. He blinks a few times as he waits at the curb. He refuses to cry over this. This is just an obstacle. It is something they’ll work through together. He knows Chan will figure it out. That’s the alpha, the person Chan is. He fixes things, even when it doesn’t seem possible, he finds some way to make things work. He’ll get Felix home and sort out what happened, and then they’ll figure out how to move forward.

The concerns gnawing at his thoughts makes him poor company when the taxi arrives. He slides into the backseat and he does a dismal job of managing small talk. After a few stilted exchanges, the driver leaves him to his own thoughts while they drive the rest of the way to the apartment. Jeongin pays the driver, provides him with a good tip and walks into his home. 

As desperately as Jeongin wants to talk to someone about what happened, he doesn’t want to breach Chan and Felix’s privacy, and he doesn’t want to tell anyone else he is pregnant until they sort things out. He can’t recall the last time he felt this isolated and alone.

It is late in the evening. Minho lays in bed, not yet asleep. His phone is set up to only let certain contacts reach him at this hour, so he knows that whatever is causing it to ring, is important. Setting aside his book, he picks up the phone, looks at the display and answers. “Hyung, what’s going on?”

“Hey Minho-yah,” Chan’s voice is quiet, and Minho checks his phone’s volume, but it is at its normal setting. “I think we’re going to need your help.”

“What’s wrong? Is it Felix?” Minho remembers how frantic Chan was the last time he’d received such a call. Rushing to the hospital afterwards to sit beside Chan while the doctors worked to save Felix after his last miscarriage. It had been devastating to see Chan breakdown, to watch Chan suffer as he knew there was nothing he could do to help his mate. Minho never wants to experience anything like that again.

“No, not like that,” Chan’s voice raises, and the hurried words swiftly set aside Minho’s concerns. “No, it’s… Jeongin’s pregnant, and Felix reacted in a way none of us expected.”

Feeling his heart rate spike, Minho knows his words are sharp, “What happened?”

“We were at dinner and Jeongin shared the news. You know how impatient he is; couldn’t even wait to see the doctor for the test next week. We were all happy, ready to celebrate, but at the end of the evening, Felix hissed at him, and then snarled at me after I offered Jeongin my jacket because it was getting colder.” 

Minho can tell Chan is trying to keep everything under control, attempting to keep things normal. “Where’s Jeongin now?”

“Home, I hope. He called a taxi. I was going to make arrangements to get him home, but Felix was upset and he walked off before I could stop him.”

“You hope?” Minho’s voice is a lash. “Hyung, you can’t just hope he made it home!”

Chan sighs sharply, and Minho envisions the slump of his shoulders that followed that sound. “I just got Felix calmed down. He’s sleeping. I had to hold him and scent him. I–” his voice breaks and Minho can hear his anguish, “He thought he was losing me. That he wasn’t good enough, that Jeongin would take his place and I’d set him aside. I thought I was going to have to go alpha and order him to settle. That I’d have to scruff him to get him out of it. Minho, I’ve never had to do that. Never want to.”

“Yeah.” Minho rubs at his forehead and then pushes his fingers through his hair. “Okay, but this needs to be fixed. You can’t do this to yourselves, to Jeongin, for the next nine months, hyung.”

“I know.” Chan takes a deep breath and his exhale hisses over the connection. “I know. I’ll call the therapist Dr. Park recommended first thing tomorrow and make an appointment. I can’t let this drive us apart, but I’m worried that means I won’t be able to support Jeongin like he needs. But, I’ll figure it out. We’ll work it out.”

“You will.” Minho has faith in Chan. In all the years he’s known him, Chan has never let any of them down, and he’s always found a way to keep his word. He trusts Chan to make this right. “Anything you need, just tell me.”

“Yeah, thanks. Thank you. Good night Minho-yah.”

“Mhmm.” Minho disconnects the call, then swipes to his contacts, finding Jeongin’s and sends him a text.

Movie night at mine tomorrow, starts at 6. Your pick. Don’t be late. You know I hate when the food gets cold.

The tension from the last few days has not done Jeongin any favours. He’s been sleeping poorly, daydreaming, though he likens it more to daymaring. The movie night with Minho helped. A home cooked meal with his favourite hyung. 

Knowing Chan already reached out to Minho with the news means that Jeongin feels secure in telling him what had happened. Jeongin is still trying to make sense of it, and what he’d done to upset Felix, even if Minho has told him it isn’t anything he’d done, it’s just the situation. Felix’s reaction is instinctive, rather than logical. There is nothing he could have done differently, which doesn’t make it better, but doesn’t make it worse either.

At least Jeongin doesn’t feel alone. Last night, Minho had been beside him, leaning his head back with a high pitched cackle filling the room as they watched the silly movie Jeongin selected, and things felt better. He has someone to help carry the pain of this with him, and while neither of them can explain what happened, it still helps. 

Minho also told him that Chan mentioned contacting the therapist when he’d spoken with him. It is a wise choice, in Jeongin’s mind. If Felix fears he is losing his mate, and that someone else is taking his place, that needs to be straightened out. The last thing Jeongin wants is Chan. As good an alpha as he is, he isn’t the right alpha for Jeongin, nor does he want to cause Felix that sort of pain. All he wants to do is make them happier and give them the dream they thought they’d lost forever. The plans have gone completely awry. It is upsetting, but it’s still early days. Minho advised him to be patient and to trust Chan. Solid advice, from Jeongin’s experience.

Felix messaged him that morning, letting him know their first therapy appointment is this afternoon, and that he and Chan would call afterwards so they could discuss what they’d do together. It makes Jeongin feel antsy, like he can’t settle. He is wandering around his apartment, cleaning, and fussing, mostly to prevent himself from making a horror show of his finger beds. He picks at his lunch, not feeling hungry, but knowing he should eat to provide nutrients for the embryo. The remains of it rests on his plate, sitting on the table waiting for him to finish it later. He knows the salad wouldn’t go bad if it sits out, and maybe he’ll have more of an appetite after the call.

The ring tone catches him off guard and he rushes to the coffee table to answer the phone and sits on his couch, tucking his feet under his legs and pulling a blanket over himself. “Hello.” He hopes he doesn’t sound as uncertain as he feels.

“Hey Innie. I’ve got you on speaker and Chan-hyung’s with me.” Felix sounds a little distant, but calm. “We just got home from the appointment. Are you able to talk now?”

“Yeah, I don’t have plans this afternoon. I didn’t want to rush us.” While Jeongin wishes he could see their expressions and get a sense of their dispositions from their scents, he knows the phone call is the best way to approach their situation right now. He suspects it was his own scent, clouded as it was by the pregnancy, that had set Felix off.

“That’s good, Jeongin-ah,” Chan’s voice comes through clearly and he sounds grounded, solid. “We want to apologise again for the whole situation at dinner. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, what happened. Today’s session helped us understand, and we’ll do what we can, together, to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”

Felix chirps his agreement. “I’m really sorry Innie. You didn’t deserve to have me growling at you. I’m so grateful for what you’re doing for us.”

Jeongin can sense their sincerity, and he slumps back against his couch. He was concerned and worried that things had changed, and he isn’t certain where that would leave him if that became the case. “I’m glad you talked to Minho-hyung about it. I needed to talk to someone, and I didn’t want to tell anyone your news. It didn’t seem right.”

“I’m glad he could help you,” Chan replies, “actually, that’s part of what we wanted to discuss. With instincts being what they are, Felix and I are going to continue with therapy so we both behave more thoughtfully when we’re around you. That means we’re not going to be able to spend time with you for a while, but we know that you still need to be supported during the pregnancy.”

Felix clears his throat, and his voice sounds rough, as if it’s difficult for him to speak, “I know we’d planned on Chan being there for you, and I’m sorry that’s not possible right now. It’s my fault.” He is interrupted by Chan insisting it isn’t his fault from the background, barely heard over the call. “We were thinking maybe one of the other alphas could help you out? Like Minho or Changbin or Hyunjin?”

“Oh. Yeah. That makes sense.” Jeongin isn’t sure how he feels about that, but he knows any of his hyungs would do their best to help him. 

“Minho or Changbin would likely be the better choices, seeing as how they’re single,” Chan comments. “Not sure Hyunjin and Jisung have really figured out their situationship yet, but you know what they’re like. Or, if you’d be more comfortable with Seungmin, Dr. Park did say having an alpha was best, but not more important than having someone you trust.”

“Mhmm.” It isn’t Jeongin’s place to reveal to them that Changbin and Seungmin have been seeing each other for the past year. They are private people, and have reasons of their own not to go public, but keeping it from their friends as well seems a little much to him. Everyone in the group would be happy for them, but Jeongin had only found out by accident, and Seungmin had made him promise to keep their secret. Either of them would be great, but he isn’t about to test their relationship that way. 

As for Hyunjin, the last thing Jeongin wants to do is get in the middle of that. Whatever it is Hyunjin has going on with Jisung is fraught with drama. It seems the two of them like it that way, but Jeongin needs something stable and comforting right now.

Which leaves Minho. A little old fashioned, but still open-minded. Strong, resourceful, stoic, while still warm and caring. He doesn’t say how he feels often, but he shows his emotions in everything he does. You just have to look to see it. By proximity alone, Minho is the preferred choice.

“I think Minho-hyung would be best. He’s closest anyway, which will make it easier for both of us, right?” Jeongin doesn’t want to sound excited about this, but he can feel the way his heart is pounding in his chest. “Assuming he’d be willing to help.”

“Right. It should make things easier.” Chan sounds relieved. “When we spoke, he told me to let him know what he could do to help, so I think he’ll accept. I’ll reach out to him when we’re done talking.”

He can tell Felix has leaned closer to the phone, because his voice is clearer. “How are you feeling, Innie?”

“Better, hyung. I’m feeling better. I hope you are too.” Jeongin does feel better. He’s relieved to hear the session had gone well. He’s comforted to know there is a plan on how to move forward. 

“Yeah, I am. I know this isn’t exactly what you’d signed up for,” Felix says, sounding apologetic. 

“I signed up for a nine month adventure,” Jeongin tries to reassure him. “Please don’t apologise again. It’s not anyone’s fault. It’s biology and instincts and we’ll out smart them.”

Chan chuckles. “Right. Let us know if you need anything, alright? I’m gonna let you go, and call Minho. Okay?”

“Yeah, hyung. That sounds good. Talk later.” Jeongin disconnects the call. He knows he’s tightly wound up, but only realises just how exhausted he is now that he’s starting to relax. He feels better, but rather than finish his salad, he slides down on the couch and takes a nap.

Chapter Text

They take turns spotting for each other. As they’ve been doing this for years, it’s more habit than anything, and mostly, it means the spotter talks and the other gets to lift and listen. 

Chan insists Minho lift first, which is their usual order, but this time it seems deliberately planned. Minho knows what Chan has in mind. It's not subtle. They both have words for the other given what has happened recently. Minho figures that letting Chan go first means that he has the opportunity to speak his piece, and try to appease the anger and disgruntlement Minho has felt since the night Jeongin had gone out with Chan and Felix for dinner.

He understands that instinct is natural, and Felix isn’t to blame for his reaction, but that doesn’t mean he’s forgiven yet. Minho is furious about how Jeongin had been left behind, left to find his own way home while pregnant, and then left to fret about what was going on. 

Minho didn’t expect an immediate reply from Jeongin when he texted about the movie night after Chan filled him in on what happened. He doesn’t know why he feels that Jeongin’s reply was meek, or timid, especially given that it was a text, but it seemed that way. The response lacked Jeongin’s usual playful sass in response to a direct order given by a friend. Minho had answered swiftly, letting Jeongin know he was still awake, just reading before bed. When Jeongin asked if he could visit, even given the late hour, Minho hadn’t turned him away. He’d put on his rabbit slippers, shuffled to the door and waited for him to arrive.

When he pulled the door open, Jeongin fell into his arms, bringing with him a waft of over-proofed bread. “Chan called,” Minho said. “I know what happened. You okay, baby boy?”

Jeongin had pressed himself closer, hooking his chin over Minho’s shoulder and holding him tightly around the waist. “I will be. I just didn’t want to be alone.”

Minho had kept his breathing even. No matter how furious he’d been at Chan for what had happened, his anger wasn’t going to help Jeongin. He’d let his scent of fresh pine needles and cool mountain river water flow over Jeongin. “Wanna sleep over like we used to? You can put your cold feet on my shins and I won’t even complain.”

Jeongin nodded his head, his jaw sawing against Minho’s shoulder. “Please. I don’t want to talk about it. I just feel so lonely.”

It spoke to how desperate Jeongin must have been at that moment, that he was willing to speak even that much of how he felt. It was one of the ways in which Minho felt they both matched; their reticence when it came to opening up about their emotions. “You’re not alone, Iyen-ah. Let’s go to bed, alright?”

Once tucked in, Jeongin had pressed against Minho’s chest, their legs entwined and Minho’s shins chilled by Jeongin’s icy toes. For some time, Jeongin just breathed, the soft exhales skating over Minho’s chest, where his head lay. One of Minho’s hands moved over Jeongin’s hair, while the other was claimed by Jeongin, who had woven his longer fingers between Minho’s. It felt calm and comforting, and Minho had pressed his lips to the top of Jeongin’s head. “It’s going to be alright. I promise.”

Jeongin gripped his hand tightly. “I know, hyung. Thank you.”

Minho reminds himself that Jeongin is doing better now, and that no matter what happens, he will make sure that continues. He can listen to Chan now without letting the anger rise, and can be reasonable about the conversation. He’ll use any residual anger to fuel his muscles as he lifts.

“So, uh, yeah, Felix and I went to see the therapist,” Chan starts, not looking at Minho directly. It is never wise to look an angry alpha in the eyes, and Chan knew where he stood since Minho met with him that morning. Minho had been vocal, but not verbal, since they walked into the gym. “What happened was what we’d thought. Felix instincts thinking he was being replaced, and getting upset, protective and possessive.”

Minho flicks a glance over Chan. Chan maintains his dignity, while also looking ashamed. If he were a wolf, he’d be tucking his tail between his legs, but not yet offering his throat. It’s a start. Minho grunts to acknowledge he’s listening.

“We discussed the reaction, and the therapist had some suggestions. She recommended that Felix and Jeongin not be left alone, at least not just yet.” Chan laughs a little. Minho knows it’s not because Chan thinks it’s funny, but because he’s anxious about how Minho will react. “She also said that I shouldn’t be alone with Jeongin either, because Felix will find his scent on me and that will upset him as well. Which means that neither of us can be there to support him like we wanted, and like he needs.”

Minho doesn’t like the sound of that, and the rumble in his chest is evidence of his displeasure. The growl coats his voice,muttering, “Go on.”

“Yeah, um, right, so we talked it over with Jeongin, so he knows what’s going on. We apologised! Of course we apologised! We’re so sorry for this. It wasn’t what we wanted at all. You know that, but things happen, and we can’t always know how things will turn out, and we just do what we can to make the best of it, yeah?” Chan waits, but not for too long, as he doesn’t expect a proper response. “Anyway, we thought Jeongin might be willing to think about maybe accepting the help of another alpha instead?”

Minho’s jaw clenched shut with a snap, his lips barring a growl from being voiced. He places the weights back on the rest bar as the air fills with the chilling scent of an incoming avalanche and he glares up at Chan, who is still refusing to look back, his head tucked down and meek.

“We thought you or Changbin would be best, but if Jeongin feels more comfortable with Hyunjin, we knew he’d help. Might strain things with Jisung, but he’d do it.”

Minho snorts. Jisung and Hyunjin sorting out their relationship is a sign of the coming apocalypse, as near as he can figure. As much as he cares for them both, the two of them had started off fighting, and then started flirting, and now couldn’t seem to figure out that their fighting is flirting. As for Changbin, he is a good alpha, and Minho doesn’t really have a reason to object to him helping, but that isn’t what he feels is best for Jeongin. “Tell me you’re letting Jeongin make this choice for himself.”

Chan glances at him and his expression looks pained. “Yeah. Of course we are. He’s the only one whose choice matters in this. Well, so long as whoever he picks agrees. Like, if he wanted Changbin, and he said no…”

A growl accompanies Minho’s words, spoken without thought, “He picked Changbin?”

“No, no…he, no he didn’t,” Chan stammers, a sloppy reaction as if he hadn’t expected the extremity of Minho’s response. “He wants you.”

Oh.

Minho isn’t prepared to examine the way his chest seems hollowed out at those words, breathless and winded. He inhales slowly and swallows. “He does?”

Chan nods, finally looking Minho in the eyes. “Yeah, he said you were his choice. Assuming you agree, that’s what he wants.”

“Yes. I’d do anything for him,” Minho agrees without pause. His voice is rough. He doesn’t like the way that Chan’s eyes pierce through him. Minho needs to clarify. “You know I’d do anything for any of you.”

Chan nods. “Right. Of course.”

Minho sits up and rises from the bench. He slaps Chan’s ass. “Your turn.” He waits while Chan gets into place and spots him as he starts lifting. “It makes sense,” Minho says, feeling the urge to fill the silence between them and to rationalise Jeongin’s choice. “We live in the same apartment building. Makes it easier for us than it would be for Binnie or Hyune.”

“Right,” Chan repeats through gritted teeth as he works through a rep.

“I don’t know much of what he’ll need. Though I guess they wouldn’t either. Well, Changbin might. His sister had a pup recently, right?” Minho receives only an answering grunt. “I guess I’ll do some research, and talk to Jeongin, too. He’ll be able to tell me what he needs, and I just need to be ready for it.”

Chan finishes up his reps before sliding the weights into the resting bar and sits up. He grabs the towel over his shoulder and wipes his forehead before laying the towel over his neck. “Yeah. You might have to pry the information out of Jeongin sometimes. Felix didn’t always make it easy for me to know what he needed. You can guess, and sometimes that’ll work, but others, you just need to keep asking. Food? Cuddles? A nap? Maybe just the comfort of having someone nearby. Sometimes it can be a scent, or scenting. Felix started wearing my hoodies all the time. I mean, you know he likes stealing my clothes already, but…”

Minho watches as Chan’s face becomes mournful as he speaks. “You don’t have to tell me all the details. Just, if you’ve got any resources? Like, websites or books or something, pass them my way? Jeongin and I can figure it out for ourselves.” He pushes his fingers through his sweaty hair. As much as the situation isn’t fair to Jeongin, it isn’t exactly easy for Chan or Felix either. Minho can empathise with how Chan might feel threatened by having a potential rival alpha in the mix. “You don’t have to talk about it. I know it still hurts. You dreamed of this together, having a pup, and this isn’t the way you dreamt it would happen. But, as you said, we don’t always get to choose how things come about. We just need to make the best of it, hyung.”

Chan smiles, though it doesn’t seem to reach his eyes, and his dimples are absent. “Yeah. I did. This isn’t at all how Felix and I thought it would happen, but at least the dream’s still alive.”

Jeongin sits on the couch, curled up in blankets. Soonie has decided his lap is his new bed, and has curled up like a freshly cooked shrimp, his head hidden behind paws and a tail. From the kitchen, mugs are noisily being pulled from the cupboard and the kettle rising to a boil. “Did you want honey, Iyen-ah?”

“Just a little, please.” Jeongin still doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but since he can’t have the cup of coffee he really wants, and the taste of tea is more like dead leaves than enjoyable, the honey will make it passable. “You sure there isn’t anything I can do to help?”

Minho’s laughter puts a smile on Jeongin’s face. “No. You’re not allowed in my kitchen. You’ll break something, brat.”

Jeongin whines, just to hear Minho laugh some more. “I don’t always break something.”

“Frequently enough,” Minho counters as he pours water into the mugs. He brings the mugs over to the couch, leaving Jeongin’s on the side table. “It’s still steeping, and it’s hot.”

Jeongin glances up at him, “Yes Eomma.”

“Yah. If I didn’t say anything, you’d pick it up, try some, burn your tongue, and then drop my favourite mug.”

Jeongin looks over at the side table to inspect the mug. It has kittens all over it, chasing after colourful yarn. He supposes it could be Minho’s favourite. He probably shouldn’t antagonise Minho when he’s agreed to help him, but it is tempting. “Thank you, Minho-hyung.”

Minho arches a brow and tilts his head as if questioning Jeongin’s sudden compliance. “How are you feeling? And don’t answer before you think.”

His hyung is so suspicious. Jeongin chuckles. This could be fun. “I’m fine,” he says,  sticking his tongue out at Minho before answering properly. “My chest is a little sore, and my heart’s beating faster. The heartburn’s not been great, but at least I haven’t had any morning sickness.”

“Brat,” and Minho returns the favour, sticking out his tongue in reply. “That all sounds like normal, from what I’ve read. Are you concerned about anything?”

Jeongin slides his feet across the couch cushions, and tucks his toes under Minho’s thigh. Minho doesn’t let slippers stay on if Jeongin has his feet on the couch. Pressed into the couch by Minho’s weight, his feet will stay warm. “I have an ultrasound later this week.”

Minho picks up his tea and takes a sip, then sets the mug down. “I’ll go with you. Just tell me when it is. I’ll send you my calendar too, so you can see when I’m available.” He tucks the blanket lying over Jeongin’s lap back around his leg, as it had been disturbed when he’d stretched his legs. “That will help with scheduling other appointments.”

Jeongin offers him a slightly dubious smile. “It’s okay if you can’t make it. I know it’s late notice. Wednesday at 3. Dr. Park said it would only take about half an hour.”

Minho slides his thumb across his phone to unlock it. It takes longer than Jeongin thinks it should for a calendar event to be added, but his own phone dings with a notification shortly after. Probably Minho sharing his calendar. “It shouldn’t be a problem. Want me to pick you up at school?”

The dance studio isn’t that far from the school Jeongin teaches at. While Minho doesn’t usually drive, preferring to use the transit system, it would make things easier. “If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it. Sometimes the scents in public transit are overwhelming now.”

Minho pats the top of Jeongin’s feet, just above where they’re snug under his leg. “Would it help if I started wearing scent blockers?”

“No.” The word is quick and vehement, pushed through his lips with unexpected force. Jeongin leans back against the couch and sighs. He doesn’t want that at all. He looks at Minho, feeling the burn of a blush spreading across his cheeks and says in a more sedate voice. “No. Thank you, but no. I, um…like your scent.”

He watches as Minho looks at him, and the tips of his ears steadily become red. “That’s good.” Minho elongates the words, as if unsure what to say. “From my research you’ll probably crave being scented in a couple months or so.”

What is all this research Minho has been doing? Jeongin has done some himself, but he didn’t expect it of Minho as well. At least, not yet. He’d barely spoken to Chan to make a decision about which alpha he’d prefer to support him through the pregnancy. He shouldn’t be surprised, and he isn’t, not really. It is very like Minho to throw himself into something he agrees to do. Sometimes he’ll even say no, and then earnestly do it anyway. He’s never one to prevaricate or procrastinate. He always starts as he means to continue. 

It is a trait that Jeongin admires about him; one he wishes he could emulate better. It’s both considerate and compassionate, evidence of Minho’s inner self, of which so few catch a glimpse. Jeongin smiles at him, and a blush of his own steadily warms his cheeks. “Should I scent you in return? Make sure no one tries to steal my favourite hyung?”

Blinking slowly, Minho looks like his brain stalled before he tickles the arch of Jeongin’s foot. “No one’s going to steal me away from you. I’m yours for the next nine months.” Jeongin wonders why those words are quickly followed by a frown upon Minho’s face. The measured time leaves Jeongin feeling a little cold inside, even as he giggles, and pulls his foot away in protest. “I suppose you could though, if it made you feel better. Whatever you need, Iyen-ah.”

The last person who had said something like that to him had broken his heart. He wants to guard himself against such a promise again, but this is Minho, his hyung, dependable, loyal and true. If he speaks the words, it is as good as done. “I think you’ll get tired of it. Running out to pick me up ice cream, or finding me wonton soup at near midnight on a Wednesday.”

“Ah, it could be worse. You could ask for salt and vinegar or ketchup chips. Or lamb chops, like  when we all visited Chan and Felix’s families back in Australia,” Minho sighs. “That would be difficult.”

“I’ll try not to crave those things,” Jeongin solemnly swears, a smirk adorns his lips. “Though, I can’t make any promises.”

“No, of course not,” Minho’s tone is bland. “How could you possibly know now what the pup might want.”

Jeongin, figuring it will be safe again, tucks his toes back under Minho’s thigh, and then wiggles them for good measure, nails pressing to fabric. “Thank you. I don’t think I’ve said it yet, and I meant to. I mean to. It’s not a small thing what we’re asking of you.”

“Drink your tea, baby boy,” Minho chides him, and changes the subject. “You said the various scents on public transport are bothering you?”

Obediently, Jeongin sips his tea, finding it just the right hint of sweetness, covering the dead leaf taste he usually avoids. He holds the mug carefully in both hands, his long fingers curling over kittens and yarn. “It’s not that bad if it’s not busy.”

Minho looks down his nose at Jeongin. “Yet you travel to and from school during rush hour, so it is bad then.”

Jeongin has a feeling he knows where this is going. Minho owns a car he rarely drives. The dance studio is close to his school, just a neighbourhood further away. Close enough for Minho to be able to say it is just a little out of his way. He narrows his eyes, suspecting he is about to be the recipient of Minho’s generosity once again. “It’s not that bad.”

“I’ll drive you to school and pick you up when I can. You’ve got my calendar now. I do have some later classes, but we can work something out if we need to.” 

“I have a transit pass. You don’t need to do that for me.”

“I’m here to make your life easier. That’s what I agreed to, so you’ll get a drive whenever I can manage it.”

Jeongin grits his teeth. He is stubborn, obstinate, and persistent, but if anyone in their group of friends could outlast him, it is Minho. He sighs, a small pout on his lower lip. “Fine.”

Minho uses his elbow to nudge Jeongin’s calf, careful not to cause Jeongin to spill his tea. “This works when you are honest with me about what you need and what I can do to help you. No matter what it is. Let me decide what I can do and what I’m willing to do. We’ll figure it out from there.”

Jeongin takes a deep breath before sipping from his tea. He’s gone from feeling bereft after that dinner with Chan and Felix to feeling surrounded by care now. It is a huge shift. He knows that Minho will be diligent in his attentiveness, but he hadn’t imagined how encompassing that care could be. He worries the alpha inside Minho will put everything aside to take care of him, just because he’s agreed to help. “Can you promise me that if there’s something you don’t want to do, that you’ll tell me?”

As if he senses how much this means, Minho doesn’t answer immediately. His eyes, when they met Jeongin’s, are warm and blink again, in that slow thoughtful way he has. “I promise, Iyen-ah. We both have limits, hmm? So we’ll be careful about that, and talk about things.”

Jeongin nods. “I’ll tell you what I need and what I want, and I’ll let you know if it is a need or a want, and you’ll tell me if I’m asking too much. It’s not just the two of us. Everyone else can pitch in too, right?”

“Hmm.” Minho drinks from his own cup, and while it doesn’t quite seem as if he is agreeing with Jeongin, it isn’t as if he is disagreeing either. “Do you have the list of nutritional needs and dietary guidelines yet?”

“Oh!” Jeongin moves swiftly, tipping his mug, which is close to empty, and quickly caught by Minho who glares at him and mutters something about his favourite mug again. Jeongin curls in on himself. “Sorry hyung. Dr. Park emailed the details, so I was just getting my phone so I could forward it over to you. I forgot about the mug. I’m sorry.”

Minho sighs and pats his knee with a smile that seems indulgent. Jeongin still feels apologetic, but this is also the benefit of being the youngest. All the hyungs let him off the hook so easily. “And you ask why I don’t let you in the kitchen.”

With a yawn, Jeongin stretches his hands above his head, his heels digging into the couch cushion and his toes arch under Minho’s thigh. He pulls his phone from his pocket and forwards over the email, and accepts Minho’s calendar invite. “I should head home. We’ve both got class early tomorrow.”

Minho sets his favourite mug beside his own, and rises from the couch. He pulls off his hoodie and offers it to Jeongin. “It gets cold in the hallways at this time of the year, and you’re walking around in a t-shirt. Pick you up tomorrow at half past six.”

Without complaint, Jeongin tugs on the hoodie while walking towards the door. He inhales as the fabric passes over his face, absorbing the crisp mountain air, petrichor and fallen leaves. It's more comforting than he expects. He wonders how long he can borrow this before Minho realises. 

Kicking off his fox slippers, Jeongin slips his feet into his shoes to make the trek back to his own apartment, pleased he'll be enveloped in Minho's warmth and scent all the way.

“See you then. Sleep well, hyung.”

“I finished setting the table. Do you need help with anything else?” Jeongin asks from the other room while Minho continues to work on dinner. 

It is a simple meal he prepares tonight, nothing like the beef wellington Minho had made Yongbok for his birthday last month. All the side dishes are already set out. He finishes cutting up all the ingredients, and cooks the thinly sliced beef, seasoned with doenjang and adds water to simmer with radish and potatoes. He’ll let that simmer until they arrive, when he’ll add in the zucchini, tofu and green onion to finish off the jjigae.

“Can you come into the kitchen?” Minho calls out. He isn’t sure if Jeongin will agree with him, but he feels it’s worth discussing. He’s given some thought as to how he could ensure tonight goes well. It’s the first time Jeongin will see Chan and Yongbok again since they've started therapy. Chan said it’s going well, and their willingness to join them for dinner is hopeful, but Minho thinks there is one last thing they could do.

As Jeongin walks into the room, Minho sets down the knife, turns the burner down to a simmer and then walks forward until he’s close enough to catch the omega’s scent. It seems to reflect Jeongin’s uncertain expression, the yeasty smell of rising bread, almost ready for the oven, and beneath it, Minho catches notes of sunlit sand, an ocean breeze and warm gooey chocolate. Echoes of Chan and Yongbok. Jeongin’s expression turns curious. “Hyung?”

“I was thinking that if your scent is what has Yongbok reacting, it might be an idea for me to scent you before they arrive?” Minho offers his thought, not getting any closer to Jeongin and letting him make his own decision on this. His heart is thumping a little, chest tight.

It is a weekday, which means Jeongin will likely still carry his scent when he goes to work the following day. Minho isn’t sure if that's something he wants to try to explain, or even if he’ll face any questions about it. Scenting is a private matter, but children are notorious for asking all sorts of impertinent questions. He cracks his knuckles while he waits for an answer. He didn't realise he'd be so nervous, offering this. 

“I think you’re a genius, hyung.” Jeongin’s smile grows, becomes confident, and Minho grins with relief, opening his arms and inviting Jeongin closer.

As Jeongin leans in, Minho’s arms enclose him, pulling them chest to chest, tucking Jeongin against his scent gland and closes his eyes. Minho concentrates, letting his own scent fill the kitchen, the comfort of a campfire on a cold evening, surrounded by pine trees. He feels Jeongin relax against him, a sigh feathering over Minho's chest. 

Once done, Minho’s hands move over Jeongin’s back, tracing his spine. “How are you feeling?”

He no longer needs to tell Jeongin to think before he answers. Jeongin takes his time to assess, pensive rather than a quick pronouncement. “A little nervous. Better now than before. I really want this to work. I miss seeing them both.”

Minho nods before perching his chin on the top of Jeongin’s head. “They’ve missed you too, baby boy. We’ll all be on our best behaviour tonight.”

Jeongin chuckles in response, and rests in Minho’s arms until Minho can only smell himself. It's cosy and he wants to stay here, but he can't, so Minho loosens the embrace and then moves away.

Once released, Jeongin approaches the counter, surveys the ingredients, and walks over to the stove, lifting the lid to the pot so he smells the dinner in progress. “This smells good, hyung.”

“Did you want to start the rice?” Minho is cautious about what he’ll let Jeongin help with in the kitchen. Jeongin isn’t well versed in cooking, and tends to be clumsy, but he figures anyone can manage a rice cooker. He is looking to keep Jeongin busy; occupied hands leave little time to overthink what might happen once Chan and Yongbok arrive. “If you do, make extra. I’ll send you home with some kimchi fried rice after dinner.”

Cheerfully moving to the cupboard, Jeongin pulls out the rice so he can measure and rinse it. Minho counts the number of times Jeongin rinses the rise, but he had been well trained at this point, rinsing six times as Minho has insisted on in the past to ensure the water runs clear.

It is as the rice is being placed in the rice cooker that Chan and Yongbok arrive. Minho opens the door to let them in, and quietly advises them that he’d scented Jeongin. He doesn’t want them to panic if Jeongin doesn’t carry their scents as they might expect given the last time they saw him.

Chan clasps Minho on the shoulder. “Thank you for the warning.”

Yongbok looks uneasy, “I hope that helps. I think it will.” Holding out a container to Minho, he continues, “I made some cookies.” Once relieved of the container, he reaches out and takes Chan’s hand, half-hiding behind his mate as they move into the apartment.

“Jeongin should be done putting on the rice now. I’ve got to finish up the stew, but it should take only five minutes. The table’s set, so make yourselves comfortable.” Minho looks over to the kitchen, where Jeongin is lingering, apparently transfixed by the countdown on the rice cooker. “Iyen-ah. Go sit down for a bit. Dinner won’t be much longer.”

Minho keeps an eye on him as Jeongin walks into the living room where Chan and Yongbok have taken over the couch. He waves at them, but doesn’t speak before sitting in the far chair, where Doongie jumps into his lap. Minho listens, not because he tries to hear their discourse, but more to have a sense of the mood in the room while he finishes placing the rest of the ingredients in the pot. He doesn’t want to hover. He trusts that Jeongin can navigate the conversation without his assistance. He also believes that Chan and Yongbok need the opportunity to speak with Jeongin privately, to make amends for what happened, and ensure to each other that the therapy sessions are working. Minho will step in if needed, but he suspects that won't be required.

He adds some hot peppers and some gochugaru to the soup, but he doesn’t add as much as he normally would. While he might want Chan to suffer, just a little, he does want him to enjoy the meal. When the rice cooker beeps, Minho scoops the rice into a larger serving bowl and brings it to the table. He moves the pot with doenjang jjigae to a trivet on the table, with a ladle so everyone can help themselves to additional servings. 

Jeongin is still sitting across from the couch, but now he leans forward, smiling as he catches up with his hyungs. Yongbok continues to hold Chan’s hand, but no longer seems to be gripping it as if that is the only thing that is able to keep him calm and contained. Chan answers a question about his recent project, in his usual meandering fashion which tends to put people at ease.

Minho determines the conversation could continue while they are eating, so he doesn’t wait to call them to the table. “Dinner’s ready.”

While it may be Minho’s apartment, Chan insists on serving Jeongin, then Yongbok, followed by Minho, and then himself. “Thank you for the meal, Minho-yah.”

Yongbok and Jeongin also give thanks before they start to eat and Minho looks at Chan, hoping to pick up the conversation where it had left off. “You were talking about your newest project?”

“Ah, yes. Jisung wrote some lyrics the other day. Powerful, heart wrenching, but hopeful. About a relationship that’s push and pull and on and off, and yet, you still want it to work out, but not sure how to make that happen,” Chan comments between bites. “He was hoping I could figure out the instrumentals after he sent me what he was thinking of for the top line.”

Minho glances at Jeongin and smirks. “Think he’s shared it with Hyunjin?”

Yongbok coughs, and covers his mouth trying not to choke through his laughter with his mouthful of stew. 

“I don’t think so. At least not yet. Hyunjin’s still painting flowers in blues and greens.”

“The day the two of them figure out what it is they’re doing with each other is the day the rest of us can relax,” Chan sighs.

“It’s not like we can rely on Changbin and Seungmin to provide us with drama,” Minho comments dryly and then turns to Jeongin as Minho hears him sputter through a cough, or coughing through a sputter. It is hard to say. He arches a brow, “Need some water, Iyen-ah?”

Jeongin shakes his head. “No, nope. I’m fine.”

Minho narrows his eyes at him, but Jeongin so quickly puts another large spoonful of food into his mouth, Minho doesn’t have a chance to question him. Even if Jeongin’s ears are turning red.

Throughout dinner, the conversation remains light. They touch on work, projects, and upcoming events like Seungmin’s new movie to be released, and Hyunjin’s art exhibit he is curating his work for at present. Minho’s studio is preparing for a competition, and Jeongin is busy herding his students towards an end of year recital. Yongbok’s agent is still negotiating the fine details of deals with major brands for the winter fashion season, and 3racha will be performing at a small venue for an already sold out show.

When Minho gets up to clear the dishes, Chan joins him and picks up the banchan to bring it  to the kitchen. Having seen the grateful look Yongbok passes Chan, Minho figures this is planned. He isn’t sure it’s wise, leaving the two omegas alone, but they’ve been fine sitting across from each other at dinner, talking easily to one another. It isn’t as if he and Chan will be far from them. He does give Chan a look with an arched brow, to which Chan replies with a sideways smile and a shrug. Not the most comforting response his hyung can give him.

Since both he and Chan are in the kitchen, he starts putting away the extras and doing the dishes. The intention is to let Yongbok and Jeongin talk, so he’ll stay out of it. At least the dining area is close to the kitchen, and he can hear the conversation. It’s an illusion of privacy, but he understands why Yongbok doesn’t want to be overheard. He doesn’t much care for apologies himself, though in the time he’s known Yongbok, he hasn’t seemed to have any compunction about saying sorry.

“I wanted to say sorry again, Jeongin,” Yongbok states, his deep voice is soft and full of remorse. “You didn’t deserve what happened at dinner, and I wish I’d been able to better control myself. I am thankful for everything. And it’s not that I’m jealous, or at least, that’s not all it is.”

Minho can hear the shifting of a chair. Likely Jeongin’s, as he figures Yongbok wouldn’t move closer without an invitation. “You don’t have to tell me, hyung. I know you’re sorry, and thankful. I just feared that I was going to end up alone while carrying your pup because we couldn’t bear to be near each other. But we’ve sorted all that out now, right? So it’s okay.”

“I think it might help both of us if I tell you what I feared. I don’t want this to happen again,” Yongbok sighs. “Therapy’s helped me realise that I’ve been feeling like I’ve failed, and that I need to recognize that I have value outside of an omega’s ability to birth a pup. I didn’t realise just how much I’d started to hate myself. I didn’t feel worthy of being loved anymore, and I questioned why Chan was with me. That I'd placed so much value in bearing pups as part of being a good mate, that I no longer felt I could be one without the other. ”

“Oh, hyung, no.” Jeongin sounds utterly devastated. “That must have been so hard for you. I don’t think any of us knew you were feeling that way.” Minho can sense the tears in Jeongin’s eyes. Sweet boy. He has such a tender heart. 

Beside him, Chan pauses as he washes the dish and sighs quietly and murmurs, low enough not to carry further than the kitchen, “It’s been rough, on both of us. But I think we’ll be stronger for this.”

Yongbok’s voice is a low rumble, “I know that’s wrong, and not the case. Therapy’s helping us talk about it, and being open with each other, and with ourselves. While this may not be the way we wanted this to happen, I’m healing wounds I never knew I had.”

Minho hears the sniffling of tears, though he doesn’t know if they are Yongbok’s or Jeongin’s until Jeongin speaks, and his voice catches on his words, “Can I give you a hug?”

Minho puts his hand on Chan’s shoulder. “I think we’re all going to be stronger for this.”

They’re in the cinema, taking up the middle of two rows. Chan and Felix sit with Changbin in front, with Minho, Jeongin, Hyunjin and Jisung behind them. Seungmin is doing the red carpet and is in place with the other actors and film crew. Jeongin considers himself lucky that the movie came out so early in the pregnancy. If it had been in the later months, he wouldn’t have been able to sit still for so long with the pressure of the pup on his bladder.

Jeongin’s pout remains in place as he takes his seat beside Minho. He’d been told, in no uncertain terms, that he’s not allowed to have popcorn and a soda. Minho insisted they would just give him indigestion as he steered Jeongin away from the concession stand. Once the house lights go down, Minho pulls out two containers and hands them over to Jeongin. “Fruits and vegetables. And you thought I was going to let you starve through the movie.”

The pout doesn’t lift from Jeongin's lips until he looks into the containers and catches the chocolate coating on the strawberries. He still misses the popcorn, so his tone is still disgruntled, but at least he manages a smile. “Thank you, hyung.”

“You’ll really thank me later when you’re not constipated and dealing with acid reflux,” Minho returns with a smirk.

Hyunjin leans towards Minho, as if trying to loom over him and glares down his nose at him. “Be nice to my Innie. He’s pregnant.”

Minho rolls his eyes and states with a droll and dry tone, “Yes, cause letting him have popcorn and then be unable to sleep because of heartburn, followed by being all plugged up tomorrow is ‘being nice’ to poor Iyen-ah.”

Jeongin leans forward to smile at Hyunjin and waves a chocolate covered strawberry at him, “I have chocolate, hyung.”

Hyunjin grunts and sits back in his seat before he turns to Jisung and steals from his carton of popcorn, to which Jeongin can hear a squawk of protest.

Jeongin giggles and rests his head on Minho’s shoulder. “Hyung, are you going to take away my fruit and make me eat some of the vegetables?”

Minho’s forehead creases and he frowns. “No.” He then proceeds to pick up a carrot stick and raise it to Jeongin’s lips. “Eat your vegetables.”

Jeongin giggles some more, but lets the carrot stick slide between his teeth and eats it, as per Minho’s order. 

When they all agreed to come to the premiere of Seungmin’s movie, Jeongin had thought of nothing but movie popcorn, laced with butter, and eating so much of it he’d feel like he might explode. He hadn’t considered the consequences of popcorn while pregnant, aside from bits of the kernel shell sticking in his gums; a minor inconvenience that toothpicks or dental floss are meant to solve. Minho really has read over the dietary list and considered the limitations and seen to his comfort when planning their snacks. He is also kind enough to not eat popcorn in front of him, knowing how much Jeongin enjoys it. Solidarity. They are in this together. 

At least, that’s how he is interpreting the events so far. Minho really is the best hyung.

In front of them, Changbin is trying to distract Hyunjin and Jisung before they start the movie snack war of the century. “Have you all seen the trailers? I never thought our Seungmin would be in an action movie, but he really suits it, doesn’t he?”

“He’s missing out on the OST. You don’t get those with action movies. Drama and romances only,” Minho points out.

Jeongin sticks his tongue out at him. “Action movies still have soundtracks. They just don’t usually have ballads. Seungmin can sing anything!”

Changbin looks pleased at the supportive comment. “See! Innie knows what I’m talking about. He really can sing anything. We had him in the studio to help out with the top line of one of our newer song demos, right Jisung?”

Jisung, having just pinged a piece of popcorn off Hyunjin’s forehead, looks over at Changbin, his own cheeks full. “Huh?”

Changbin gives a resigned sigh. “Chan, he sounded good, right?”

Chan lifts his head from where he and Felix are inclined against each other. “Right. Yeah, he’s great. Glad he had the time for us.”

The previews end, and the theatre gets darker. Jeongin watches as Changbin turns in his seat to fully face forward, and shimmies in excitement, like a bunny with too much energy to sit still. How no one else has caught on to just how fond Changbin sounds, or how easily he praises Seungmin, Jeongin can’t explain, but he is happy for both of them. Seungmin deserves someone like Changbin in his life. Someone who will never make him guess where he stands or how he feels, and will always support him with such enthusiasm.

Jeongin’s glad he ate the carrot sticks before the movie started. The crunch of them would be noisy and distracting now that a hush has descended upon the theatre. The audience is intent on the current scene where Seungmin is instructing the main character on how to infiltrate a base. The leading alpha is just leaving his well protected and hidden location to rush into the building to lend assistance. Jeongin is caught up in the action, avidly watching the fight that ensues as Seungmin is making his way up the staircase that Jeongin hadn’t noticed he was chewing on his finger until Minho’s hand grips his wrist. Minho’s short fingers don’t reach around his wrist completely, yet the hold is firm, but not tight as he pulls down and Jeongin’s finger slips from his mouth, still moist.

“Don’t eat your fingers, baby boy,” Minho’s voice is pitched low and quiet.

Jeongin picks up a strawberry and nibbles on that instead. “Watch the movie, hyung,” he fires back, a quiet volley. Why is Minho looking at him and not the movie anyway? He huffs and finishes eating the fruit. When he reaches for another, his hand meets Minho’s and he glances over and gives him an apologetic look as he pulls his hand back, letting Minho pick a piece first.

From the other side of Minho, he can hear Jisung and Hyunjin bickering in whispers about what the characters on screen should be doing, as if they are all sitting together in Chan and Felix’s living room for their monthly movie night. It doesn’t last long as Changbin turns about to glare at them, his voice forceful, and a little loud. “Yah. Let us all watch the movie.” He sits back in his chair with a huff and Hyunjin and Jisung mutter to themselves, then fall silent.

From Jeongin’s vantage point, they look disgruntled with each other. Whether this is from the argument, or from having been scolded, Jeongin can’t guess. Potentially both. Probably both. It suits them well, that they’ll blame each other for having been taken to task so publicly. Chan had been right the other night about the two of them needing to get their situationship figured out.

It really isn’t his place to comment, or advise. Jeongin isn’t in their position, and his relationships have left him with no experience which lends a valid opinion on how to fix anything. What he does know is that there must be something between the two of them. There must be a spark to have them feel so heated towards each other. It’s there when they fight, and he hopes that the flavour of heat isn’t the same when they hook up, though apparently make up sex is unrivalled. That could be what has them circling each other as they have been this way for the past decade. He wishes they’d find a way to settle into a proper orbit, something stable, regardless of being friends or lovers. He often wonders if they are as tired of living the push and pull of their relationship as he is watching it.

A loud horn blares from the speakers, followed by a screech and the crumple of metal and the skid of cars on asphalt, pulling Jeongin’s attention back to the movie. He is quickly dragged out of his own thoughts, absorbed in the action once more.

When he later goes for another piece of fruit he finds the container empty. He sighs, and nudges Minho to give it back to him. Minho tucks the container away and then wraps an arm around Jeongin’s shoulder, pulling him close. Minho tilts his head down, and his breath tickles against Jeongin’s ear as he speaks, “Lean forward just a bit. I think they’re holding hands under Jisung’s jacket.”

Jeongin curls around Minho to get a better glimpse, and sure enough, both of them have their arms under the jacket laying over Jisung’s lap, a noticeable lump of what is likely held hands pushes up the leather. He grins up at Minho before sliding back against his seat, letting his head settle upon Minho’s shoulder for the rest of the feature.

Chapter Text

They wander out by the Han river. Minho has wound a scarf around Jeongin’s throat, tucking it inside his jacket so it will ‘stay nice and tight and warm’ he proclaims, while Jeongin feels his cheeks grow pink. 

“Are you going to lace my boots for me too, hyung?” Jeongin asks, sassy with it as he avoids meeting Minho’s eyes. 

He also avoids thinking about why he's so endeared by the care Minho is taking of him. Nor does he give thought to how the scarf, which Minho had been wearing, surrounds him with the cosy warmth of a campfire on a chill mountain morning.

“Yah, brat. I trust you were able to tie your own boots before you came down to the lobby, but why you didn’t think to bring a scarf, I don’t know.” Minho flips the collar of his own coat up about his neck to stay warm and guides them to his car so they can drive out to the river.

Which is why they now find themselves on the pathway, the wind chill and whistling through the air as the river flows beside them, only the edges near the banks showing frost and hints of ice forming. It’s early in the day, the sun still making its way towards the zenith amidst the clouds, fluffy and grey in the morning sky. Jeongin’s cheeks are pink now, due to the cold November weather, and his hands are covered by mittens that match his hat, which Minho had insisted on pulling down until the brim covered the tips of Jeongin’s ears. His long puffer jacket keeps him warm, though he wonders if he may need to get a new one before winter is over.  It’s all up to the pup at this point, he supposes, and perhaps the lasting power of the winter season.

He sighs, which draws Minho’s attention. Minho’s long woollen coat appears to be keeping him warm enough, though Jeongin worries about the lack of scarf, Jeongin knows offering him back the one now around his neck is a quick way to start an argument he has no hope of winning. Minho’s gloved hands are tucked into his pockets, which will keep them warm. Jeongin wonders if he can sneak his hand into Minho's pockets as well. They look deeper than his own, which are just large enough to hold his mittens, so long as they are not accompanied with the hands they cover.

Minho leans over to bump him with his shoulder as they continue on their walk. “That was a large sigh.”

It’s a comment, not a question, which Jeongin knows means he could choose to explain, or not. It’s an invitation, stating Minho’s willingness to listen, rather than a demand. Minho has always been respectful of Jeongin’s reticence towards discussing his emotions. Jeongin shrugs. “Just wondering if I might need to buy a new jacket before winter’s over.”

“You don’t like your jacket? Thought you were thrilled when you got it at the end of season sale last year.”

He huffs a laugh. “I’ll have to get a new one if it won’t fit me in January.”

Minho dips his head with a sheepish grin. “Oh.”

Jeongin wishes he could see Minho’s ears, but they are well covered by his hat. Jeongin suspects they’ll be reddened by a rare bashfulness, but if Minho was without the hat, Jeongin supposes the cool wind would have made them so anyway. He’ll never have a hope of knowing if the lack of forethought regarding his jacket had caught Minho off-guard in a slightly embarrassing way, hat or no hat.

“Most people don’t start showing until the fourth or fifth month,” Minho offers.

This is followed by a disgruntled exhale. “So, likely I will. How annoying.”

Minho chuckles, “I could take you shopping. Make a day of it. Treat you to lunch, then massage your poor sore feet when we get home.”

“Hmm. That sounds like it might appease me,” Jeongin says, tilting his head with a smirk as he glances at Minho.

“Might?” Minho’s expression is representative of anyone who has ever been horribly offended. Jeongin knows it for the sham it is. Minho’s eyes narrow. “What more do you think you deserve?”

Jeongin tips his nose into the air, lofty and proud. He quips, without quibble, “The world and everything in it.”

He isn’t deft enough to dodge as Minho pulls his hands from his pockets and proceeds to wrap his arms around Jeongin and begins tickling him. While Jeongin laughs, it isn’t because Minho succeeds. Jeongin really is going to regret having to replace this puffer jacket, though later in pregnancy, he imagines being tickled would be a risky endeavour. Anyone making him laugh at that point would quickly have him running off to the toilet. “I’m wearing tickle armour!” he crows with great cheer.

Minho glowers at him and lets him go with a huff. “I’ll remember this later.”

Jeongin hooks his elbow through Minho’s and brushes their shoulders with their next step. It seems the tease Minho season is open. He is going to take full advantage. “Are you saying I’m not worth all that?”

Minho peers at him from the side of his eye.  “The world and everything in it is a little much, and I am just one hyung.”

“Just a little much? I guess I’m close to worth it then,” Jeongin smirks, knocking his shoulder against Minho’s again. “I’ll try harder.”

Minho stumbles, yoinking Jeongin along with him by their joined elbows. He clears his throat as he catches his balance and starts walking again. “No one’s perfect, Iyen-ah. Don’t hurt yourself with all that trying.”

That isn’t the comment he expects. He figures Minho would argue his wording, over turn it by saying something like ‘a lot much’ instead, but he didn’t prevaricate or withdraw his previous comment. He hasn’t disputed Jeongin’s comment, or suggested that he isn’t close to worth that much. 

If anything, Minho indicated that he couldn’t be more perfect because perfection couldn’t be achieved?

Frowning thoughtfully, Jeongin keeps walking. Usually Minho would continue teasing, playing along with him, but not this time. He glances at him, worrying that something might be wrong. 

But no, Minho seems alright, not that he is easy to read most of the time, but after years of knowing each other, there is usually some hint, some sign, if Minho isn’t doing well. He isn’t cracking his knuckles, and his face doesn’t have that loose and emotionless aspect it assumes when he doesn’t want to be read. There’s probably nothing wrong. He’ll still watch out for it, just in case.

It’s possible Minho is being considerate. After all, with what happened with Chan and Felix, Jeongin has been feeling uncertain, and off balance. His own life plans have gone to the shredder, and the surrogacy plans are going awry as well. Is Minho letting him have this so he can feel more confident? Jeongin has seen Minho do similar things for Jisung in the past, so it isn’t completely out of his playbook.

Jeongin is probably over-thinking the whole situation, which he has a tendency to do. It probably isn’t that deep. Likely about as deep as his puffer jacket pockets, and not at all deep like Minho’s woollen jacket ones. He snorts in private amusement, which has Minho glancing at him again. “Minho-hyung, are you getting cold?”

“Hmm?” Minho cocks his head to the side, “It is cold out, but no. Why?”

“Your nose is a little red.” Jeongin’s grin is hidden by the scarf. “It's cute.”

Minho scoffs and scowls. “Definitely not.”

“Well, no, not now,” Jeongin agrees easily. “It’s all scrunched up now. Maybe if you gave me a pout instead of a glower.”

“That’s not going to work.” The disgruntled muttering causes Jeongin to giggle.

Minho’s even breathing has Jeongin glancing at him, and pulling down the scarf so Minho can see his wide smile.

“Brat,” Minho sighs, but his own lips curve into a smile. “You aren't playing fair.”

“Of course not,” Jeongin easily agrees. “My favourite hyung taught me better than that.”

“I’ll have to toss him into the air fryer at 180 degrees for twenty minutes when we get back.”

Jeongin laughs, leaning against Minho and using Minho’s steadfastness to remain standing. As he looks at Minho, he sees the snow starting to fall, delicate flakes that are perching on Minho’s hat, and the one that fell on his nose, which melts as Jeongin watches. He stops laughing, stops moving, but doesn’t pull away.

Minho looks down at where Jeongin is resting against him. He doesn’t say anything, and the longer he looks into the Jeongin’s eyes, the warmer Jeongin feels. The snow continues to fall, soft, cold and quickly melting. When a clump of flakes lands on Jeongin’s lashes, he blinks, the flakes slip and melt against his cheek, the water run down and traces the edge of his jaw.

Raising his hand to Jeongin’s cheek, Minho thumbs away the water. He pulls the scarf about Jeongin’s neck back up to cover his mouth and nose. “Let’s head home. It looks like the snow is only going to get worse.”

Jeongin almost declines, he's been enjoying this walk. The feeling in his chest right now even more so. But, alas. 

So, Jeongin begins to walk again, this time back towards the car. “I can make hot chocolate when we get back. With marshmallows.”

“That instant stuff, made with hot water?” Minho’s tone is aggrieved.

“That’s the usual way to make hot chocolate,” Jeongin insists, hiding his smirk behind the scarf. His goal is just in reach. Hot milk with melted chocolate is soon to be his, covered with marshmallows.

“You can make your hot chocolate then, and I’ll make mine.” Minho looks well satisfied with that.

Jeongin pouts and whines. “Hyung…”

Minho arches his brow and nudges Jeongin with his elbow. “Did you think that was going to work for you?”

“Well, yes…”

A snort is followed by a high pitched laugh. “Fine, fine. I’ll make your hot chocolate.”

Jeongin whoops. “You’re the best hyung.”

The walk continues, the snow falling in greater sized flakes, some sticking together as they fall. They are quite covered by the time they return to the car. Minho starts it and urges Jeongin to get in while he brushes the snow off the car. “It should warm up soon, and if that doesn’t thaw you out, we’ll bundle you up in blankets and feed you hot chocolate.”

“Alright hyung.” Jeongin snuggles further into his jacket as he sits in the car, wiggling his toes in his boots trying to keep them warm. He has a thought, and doesn’t want to wait to ask, so he rolls down his window, just enough so that Minho can hear him. A little bit of snow blows in, landing in his lap. “Minho-hyung, is this the first snowfall of the season?”

“Hmm. I think so. Why?” Minho answers, before looking over and seeing the open window. “Yah, you’re letting the warm air out. Close up the window.”

Jeongin rolls up the window with a laugh. To think, the two of them are out during the first snowfall of the year. Like a typical k-drama. He starts to plot out what the story would be: a friend to lovers romance, two oblivious idiots. It would be cute, and soft. Maybe Seungmin could play the best friend who helps one of them realise the feelings they’d had all along, and record a lovestruck OST. He keeps himself occupied envisioning the drama until Minho finishes, joining him in the car, and they head back to the apartment.

“I’ve missed you,” are the words smeared against Minho’s neck as Jisung flings himself against him, expecting to be caught. 

His expectations are met, and Minho hugs him tightly with a laugh. “You say that as if I don’t see you anymore.”

“Not lately. At least, not alone,” Jisung pouts cutely. Minho knows that if something was truly wrong, Jisung wouldn’t say a word while they were out in public like this, but would hesitantly talk to him about it later. Instead, he continues to be playful with his whiny tone. “You’re always attached to Jeongin. Not that you shouldn’t be. He needs you right now, but I still miss you, hyung!”

“I’ve missed you too, jagiya.” Minho pats Jisung’s ass before letting him go. “You’re doing okay though? Don’t think I didn’t catch you and Hyunjin holding hands in the theatre.”

“We’d get along better if he didn’t keep opening his mouth all the time.”

“I think there’s things that happen between you where you prefer his mouth is open,” Minho teases with a smirk, even as Jisung swats at his chest.

“Don’t. I mean, it’s true, but just no, let’s not talk about that.” Jisung’s puffy cheeks are ablaze as he ducks his head to hide behind his mid-length chestnut hair. “Obviously that’s a thing, because that’s part of the whole,” he waves his hand through the air before he continues, “situation, but maybe we just shouldn’t have?”

Minho takes Jisung’s hand in his own. After holding Jeongin’s so frequently lately, it seems strange to not have his hand be completely surrounded, and instead, meet a palm similar in size to his own, with fingers about the same length as well. “Do you really feel that way, or is it just hard, and you wish it was easy?”

Jisung sighs, “It is hard, and I do wish it was easy. We used to fight all the time. For no real reason, or at least no cause? I mean, he’s gorgeous and I’m me, and I felt so insignificant, and I was a brat and…”

Minho interrupts, “I’m not going to let you spiral like that, Sungie. You’re cute as heck, and so talented. Yeah, you were both brats back then, comparing yourselves to the other and finding ways you were lacking and trying to bring the other down to feel better. But you don’t do that anymore. At least, I hope not.”

Jisung sighs, “No, we don’t. We fight about other things, and I still don’t think we’re talking about what really matters.”

“Same pattern, but different things to hide?” Minho tries to confirm what is going on. At Jisung’s nod, he gives his hand a gentle squeeze. “What is it you’re hiding, Sungie? What don’t you want Hyunjin to see?”

Jisung looks away and he nibbles at his lower lip. Minho gives him time, walking beside him as they stroll through the mall where they’d met to do some shopping. Jisung has agreed to help Minho find some new clothes for Jeongin. Minho doesn’t want Jeongin to struggle into his clothes until they no longer fit and he has nothing to wear, but he doesn’t trust himself to know what Jeongin might like. Hyunjin may have been a better shopping partner for that purpose, but he knows Jisung is floundering and needs him. He can give him an afternoon while Jeongin is out with Seungmin.

“I thought it would go away. I was attracted to him. I figured, sleep with him, get over it, go back to being friends,” Jisung admits, still nibbling at his lower lip. He isn’t done talking, not yet, but  thinking carefully between rambled words. “But, I didn’t. Get over it, I mean. And we just keep sleeping together, and then trying to be friends after, like it doesn’t mean anything. I want it to mean something, but I’m petrified it won’t mean anything to him, and I can’t bring it up, cause what if that’s true, and then everything’s just a bigger mess.”

“You’ll just keep hiding your heart, letting it be wounded and scarred?” Minho sighs. “That’s not fair to you or to him. You won’t know how he feels until you talk to him. He could be feeling the same way. What do you do when you’re trying to hide, Jisung?”

Jisung rubs his knuckles over his cheek, “I try to distract people.”

“Mhmm.” Minho turns to look at Jisung, notes the way he is still looking down, as if he doesn’t want to be perceived. If he doesn’t want to be seen like this, then he never should have agreed to accompany Minho on this shopping excursion. Jisung has never been able to hide from him. “And you do that either through deflectring with comedic actions or words, or you fight. I think you’ve been fighting. You know what’s going to happen if you keep fighting, right?”

Jisung looks up at Minho, eyes wide with fear. “I’m going to say something that he won’t be able to forgive or forget, and then it’s really going to be over.”

Minho lets go of Jisung’s hand so he can wrap his arm around his shoulder and pulls him closer as they approach their first shopping destination. “Pretty much. Bet you’re writing lots of songs through all this though,” he grins at Jisung, trying to lighten the mood. “This conversation needs more soju and less walking.”

“Are you offering to take me out for dinner, hyung?” Jisung looks up at him, his eyes wide and pleading.

“We have dinner at home, Jisungie,” Minho smirks down at him. “Put you in the air fryer with Hyunjin.”

Jisung holds his right hand over his heart and sighs dramatically. “So much for going to you for help! At least we’ll die together!”

Minho shakes his head. “You know the plan for today. We’re shopping for Jeongin, so he’ll have things to wear without having to worry about it. I don’t want to have to deal with him being all upset one morning because he woke up and didn’t fit into his favourite hoodie anymore.”

Even if it seems that Jeongin’s favourite hoodies these days are ones which Minho had let him borrow weeks ago. He’d have asked for it back, but Jeongin looked cosy and warm when Minho last saw him all snuggled up in it, hands pulled up into the sleeves to make sweater paws, curled up on the couch. 

“What’s that look on your face for?” 

Minho blinks and looks down at Jisung. He’s unaware of whatever expression might be on his face, but it’s now carefully blank. “What look?”

“Thoughtful, dreamy, a hint of a smile.” Jisung peers up at him with wide longing eyes which look off into the distance while circling his finger around his own face, trying to mimic the look he described.

Scoffing, Minho bats at Jisung’s shoulder. “I did not look like that.”

“Sure hyung. Whatever you say,” Jisung singsongs.

Huh. 

Is that really what his face looks like while thinking about Jeongin? It isn’t an expression Minho would have associated with himself. 

He’s spent years helping Jeongin, protecting him, and acting as an older brother while Jeongin has been far from his family home in Busan. Minho doesn’t think about him that way. He doesn’t yearn after him, or long for him, or dream about him. He is fond of Jeongin, of course. Cares for him, holds him in great affection. It isn’t anything more than friendship. 

But Minho doesn’t want to reclaim his hoodie either. There is something about seeing Jeongin wearing his clothes and being comfortable in them that is satisfying.

Maybe he's overthinking it, but can anyone blame him for being thrown for a loop on this one? 

When they reach the maternity store, Minho takes a deep breath and then walks in. He hasn’t thought about shopping here before. No relationship he’s had has ever reached the point where he thought of marriage or dreamed of having a family. Minho is realistic, and not prone to letting himself drift off on tangents of things that might be, or what the future could hold. He tries to be grounded, and chooses to concern himself with what he has and what is likely, rather than what might be. It is less disappointing when he doesn’t dream. He learnt that early on. If he doesn’t expect his relationships to work out, then he isn’t heartbroken when they fall apart. He hasn’t given up and he still puts in his best effort, he just doesn’t believe in love the way he did when he was young. Love isn’t a mystical thing which you fall into and everything is perfect. Relationships are messy with expectations and a need for compromises and so far, the expectations have been such that he can’t meet them, or the compromises required more than he’s willing to accept. He’s being practical and there is nothing wrong with that.

Rather than pretend he has any idea what he’s looking for, he finds a clerk and describes what Jeongin needs: second trimester clothes for a male omega, capable of fitting for some time, and suitable for a professional environment but easy to clean and maintain. While Jeongin doesn’t have as many children who are messy or accident prone in his classes as they are older elementary school children, he himself is prone to dropping or spilling things. Clothes that are hard to clean or require dry cleaning aren’t something that Minho would consider a thoughtful gift for Jeongin.

The clerk shows him various pants, some with draw ties, others with elastic panels, some with adjustable pockets at the front which will decrease pocket space while increasing the waistline. There are also leggings, which have a great deal of elasticity to them. Minho is also shown various sweaters and shirts, all longer in the body, and have slits on the side, or have gathers or ruffles that would expand to cover a growing distance.

With Jisung’s assistance, he’s able to find colours which match, darker greens and blues to go with rust and browns. He insists the fabrics are soft and thick, so they will be comfortable, stand up to some wear, and be warm over the coming winter months. 

When they approach the cash register, they bring with them three pairs of pants, five shirts, a sweater and a hoodie. Jisung nudges Minho just before he is about to pay and asks the cashier if they can have a gift receipt, in case Jeongin wants to exchange anything.

“Knew I brought you along for a reason,” Minho grins at him.

Jisung picks up two of the three bags and laughs, “That and you wanted help carrying this all back out to the car. Seriously, did you have to buy this much?”

“You don’t spend all that time in the gym to do nothing with those muscles,” Minho teases, choosing not to acknowledge the evidence of his generosity.

Jisung wiggles his eyebrows. “Hyung, I do plenty with my muscles.”

Minho groans, “I don’t want to know!”

They both laugh, walking back to the car. As they move past the stores on the other side of the mall, Minho sees the lingerie store a few shops away. He frowns thoughtfully and then decides it’s worth ducking in. “I’m going to head in there and pick something else up for Jeongin.”

“Oh.” Jisung looks at the store and stops walking. “Going to pick up something pretty, lacy, a little racy?”

Minho blinks at Jisung and bites off a quick and sharp, “No.”

It doesn’t stop him from suddenly thinking of Jeongin, his skin smooth and golden, a thin strap over his toned shoulders, an expanse of lace. He clamps his mouth shut, turns away, and feels the blaze of heat at the tips of his ears as he moves swiftly into the lingerie store.With effort, he ignores any other parts of himself which experience a similar warmth. He will not be buying anything at all like that. He wants something functional, and comfortable. A bralette that would support a male omega as they proceed through pregnancy.

When he explains this at the counter, the sales clerk remarks on how thoughtful and considerate he is, and how lucky his mate is to have him. Minho attempts to remain stoic, refusing to blush again, no matter how unsettling he finds the thought of Jeongin being his mate. He isn’t going to explain to some random stranger the evolution of events in which he finds himself. Instead, he just says thank you, accepts the recommendations the sales clerk makes and purchases a couple of the bras in neutral skin tones. Of course, requesting a gift receipt, just in case.

He fails to be as stoic as he’d hoped in the wake of the experience, as Jisung takes one look at his face when he comes out of the store and laughs uncontrollably. Minho huffs and glares down at him. “Unless you want to be dinner, let’s get out of here. And quit laughing at me.”

Jisung straightens up and grins. While no longer laughing, he seems to be incredibly delighted and amused. “What’s for dinner, hyung?”

“Sushi?” Minho suggests. With Jeongin out for the evening with Seungmin, he can indulge in something the other couldn’t eat for the duration of the pregnancy.

“Was that a question?” Jisung seems to be easily amused today. He is also determined to land himself in the air fryer if he keeps this up. Perhaps putting him in there with Hyunjin could actually help. A life or death situation might prompt a confession neither seems willing to offer.

What do they call it? Seven minutes in heaven. Or rather it would be seven minutes of hell, because of the heat. 

“No,” Minho grumbles, “and over our sushi dinner, you’re telling me how you’re going to go about sorting out your situationship with Hyunjin.”

Jisung whines, but remains smiling as they load the car and head out to the restaurant.

“I’m so glad you could join us for dinner tonight, Jeongin-ah,” Changbin’s voice is a little loud, but the restaurant is busy. 

It‘s fair to say Changbin doesn’t recognize an inside voice if he’s hit over the head with one, but inside voices tend to walk softly and also carry a quiet stick, so Jeongin supposes that makes sense. He grins, keeping the clever thought to himself. “It’s been a while since I spent time with the two of you. I told Minho-hyung that Seungmin was taking me to dinner, so you won’t have to worry about any awkward questions later.”

Jeongin looks pointedly between Changbin and Seungmin where they sit beside each other across the table from him. Their hands rest on the table, barely touching, with Seungmin’s ring finger curving over Changbin’s. 

“You know everyone would be happy for you if you told them, right?”

Seungmin frowns. “That’s not why.” He shakes his head. “I know they’d be happy for us. But if we tell everyone, then we need to tell our families first, and we’re working up to it.”

Changbin claims Seungmin’s hand, covering it with his own. “You’ve worked hard to keep our secret, Jeongin-ah. Can you keep it a little longer?”

Jeongin knows they’re worried about disclosing their relationship to their families. There’s expectations on both sides that there will be grandchildren. He remembers how frustrated Seungmin had been after telling his parents he was bisexual. They had accepted him quickly, only to follow up by stating they were still expecting he’d eventually settle down and mate with someone able to provide a pup.

He sighs, “I can, and I will. I wouldn’t do that to you. I just want to see you be able to show how happy you make each other. And secrets are hard to keep! I almost slip up all the time.”

“I know. You’ve never been able to keep anything from me,” Seungmin proclaims, looking smug. “As for slipping, you’re still clumsy all the time!”

There are things Jeongin hasn’t told him, but they aren’t really secrets, just things Seungmin hasn’t encountered yet. He wonders if this is because he can’t keep things to himself, or because Seungmin is wise and smart enough to figure things out and he asks in such a way that Jeongin can’t avoid telling the truth, or if it’s just the depth of their friendship. Though, he suspects the first two reasons may be the cause of the third. Which comes first, the lack of secrets or the bonds of friendship?

He and Seungmin have been friends since joining the choir their first year of university. While they were both in the music program, Seungmin was concentrating on musical theatre, while Jeongin was doing a double major with music and education. Jeongin’s voice had cracked during practice, and rather than laughing, or pitying him, Seungmin had been kind, and brought him some tea with lemon and honey during break, expressing his hope that Jeongin would feel better soon. At the time, Jeongin had thought Seungmin must have been wearing scent blockers, but the steady and calm scent of bergamot and old books merged with that of the tea and the music folios in the small choir chamber.Being around Seungmin always reminds him of their evenings spent practising music.

Changbin had chosen a small Italian restaurant for dinner that night. They start with bruschetta, The fresh tomato and basil tastes tangy and fragrant, mixed with olive oil and balsamic vinegar, though Jeongin’s unsure of how well the garlic will sit in his stomach. He’s finding some foods he enjoyed in the past aren’t as pleasant while digesting now. Though Jeongin’s tempted to order the aglio e olio, if the garlic in the appetiser leaves his future digestion questionable, the pasta will be overkill. As a kindness to himself, he orders a polenta dish with grilled mushrooms and zucchini. It should be easier on his stomach.

Their conversation so far has surrounded work. Changbin talks about his endeavours to find words, and top lines that will match beats that Chan’s put together and revising lyrics with Jisung. Seungmin’s agent is already forwarding over new scripts for him to review for upcoming projects. With his last film having done so well, he’s not even sure when he’ll have time to read through them all. To Jeongin, his own additions to the conversation seem small. He has a few promising students in his music classes, and a couple parents have already asked if he’ll be willing to take on their children for private piano lessons. He’s always careful with which students he chooses to teach outside of class, talking to the students to ensure they want to learn. So many parents push their children into extracurricular activities the child doesn’t have enthusiasm for, even if they are talented.

Once their server has made the obligatory pass by their table to ask how the food is while they all have full mouths, Seungmin directs the conversation to a subject that Jeongin hasn’t actively avoided, but hasn’t encouraged either.

“It’s been a while since we’ve really had a chance to sit down and talk, just us,” Seungmin states, as a prelude to his question. “All I’ve heard is that you broke things off with Daehyun. Do you want to talk about it?”

Jeongin stares intently at his dish while he stirs the polenta and vegetables together with his spoon. The easy smile slips into a frown and he grumbles, “Not really.”

“Do you think you should talk about it, Jeongin-ah?” Changbin asks softly.

When he looks up, Changbin’s eyes are full of compassion, his smile warm and understanding. Seungmin looks curious, but also sympathetic. With a sigh, Jeongin lets his spoon rest at the side of his dish. “Probably. I mean, it seems like I just broke things off, and then decided on a whim to carry a pup for Chan and Felix, right?”

“I don’t think that at all, Innie,” Seungmin quickly reassures him. “It might seem like that to someone who doesn’t know you, but I feel you’ve been wanting to do something to help them for a while, and with things not working out, it was an opportunity to do so.”

Jeongin nods. It’s reassuring to feel known by a friend in such a way. As much as he’s tried to set what happened with Daehyun behind him, it still hurts. “We’d been getting more serious. I had asked him to share my next heat, which I’ve never asked anyone to do before.”

Changbin whistles on an inhaled breath. “That’s a big step.”

Seungmin reaches over and takes Jeongin’s hand, giving it a light squeeze. “What happened?”

Jeongin doesn’t want to make light of what happened, but he doesn’t want to dwell on it either. It’s in the past, he never wants to talk to Daehyun again, and he likely won’t ever need to.  He’d thought that having known him for almost a year, that he could be trusted. He takes a deep breath. May as well get it over with. “I overheard him talking to his cousin. I’d gone to the kitchen to get a glass of water, and they were outside, standing by the open window. Daehyun was boasting that at long last, he was finally going to share a heat with me, and be able to ‘accidentally’ get me pregnant. He knows how religious I am, and was banking on me being eager to mate afterwards.”

The rumble of Changbin’s growl has Jeongin pause before he presses forward, his tone bitter. “It’s better I found out then, Changbin-hyung. I’m glad I overheard him, even if eavesdropping isn’t something a good omega’s meant to do.”

Perhaps that’s what hurts most. That in the ensuing fight after they’d left that night, Daehyun had tried to blame it all on Jeongin. It made Jeongin feel like he shouldn’t have bothered to be polite for the rest of the evening, acting as if nothing was wrong until they could talk about it privately. He’d hoped that Daehyun would apologise. It wouldn’t have changed the outcome; Jeongin was still going to break things off, but Daehyun had doubled down, talking about all the ways in which Jeongin was a bad omega. Too opinionated, too concerned with his career, and not eager enough to settle down and have a family. The vitriol in which Daehyun’s parting remarks had been made still resound in Jeongin’s memory, ‘It’s a shame you’re so pretty, but you can’t manage to be demure and obedient like a well bred omega should be.’

Jeongin refuses to settle. Perhaps that’s the problem. That no alpha out there is willing to stand by him, support him, and share his dream. He wants to teach, he wants to be in love, he wants a mate and children and he doesn’t want to give up any of those things to have the others. He wants it all.

It’s only as Changbin takes his other hand that Jeongin shudders a deep breath and the growing miasma of mouldy bread which surrounds him is pierced by cedar, smoke and leather, entwining in harmony with Seungmin’s old books and bergamot. The comfort and care of his friends provide the warm welcome Jeongin expects of a book filled study with a lit fireplace.

“Did he hurt you, Jeongin-ah?” Changbin’s voice is as gentle as the hand holding his.

Jeongin shakes his head. “No, he hurt my pride, lost my trust and respect. He broke my heart.” His lips twist wryly, as he tries for some levity in their conversation. “I wish he’d broken a bone instead. At least I have 206 of those.”

Seungmin blinks at Jeongin, as if he can’t believe what Jeongin had said. “You’ve been spending too much time with Minho-hyung.”

“Only Minho-hyung would find that funny,” Changbin agrees, rolling his eyes, ”Shall we have gelato for dessert?”

Maybe the comment did share more of Minho’s usual, but weird, sense of humour than Jeongin’s own irreverence.

Have they been spending too much time together? Dr. Park had indicated that pregnant omegas needed to be near their partners, and Minho is fulfilling that role for him, with things being as they are. So, Jeongin would say that they’re spending the right amount of time together. He can’t argue that they’ve grown more in tune with each other, and they are seeing each other more frequently than they did before. He frowns slightly at the thought, but the expression grows deeper as he sets aside the uneasy contemplation of spending less time with Minho and thinks through Changbin’s question. “I can’t. Gelato has uncooked eggs.”

“Sorry Jeongin-ah,” Changbin sounds rueful as he turns his eyes to the desert menu once more. “Tiramisu?”

“Hyung,” Seungmin protests, “too much caffeine isn’t good for pups.”

“Panna cotta with fresh fruit? That’s safe, right?”

Seungmin laughs. “Should be. It’s just fresh cooked cream with some gelatin.”

Jeongin gently squeezes his hyungs’ hands before he lets them go in favour of finishing his meal. “Panna cotta it is.”

As much as Jeongin had bemoaned his frustration about picking something to wear for their evening out, he’s ready to go when Minho knocks at his door. They could have met in the lobby, but this way, Minho can ensure that Jeongin has a scarf, and a hat, and his mittens, and hasn’t decided that fashion is more important than function. God help Minho if Jeongin wore some flimsy but fancy jacket rather than keeping himself warm.

Luck is with him, for when Jeongin opens the door, top to bottom, he’s decked out in winter apparel. Serviceable warm boots adorn his feet, and his long puffer jacket looks tighter about his waist, but Minho won’t be mentioning that. Jeongin’s knitted hat matches the mittens still in his pockets, as his hands are busy wrapping the scarf Minho had offered to him during their walk around his neck. Jeongin grabs his prized Alexander McQueen bag, a present from Yongbok who had pilfered it from a photoshoot, before closing the door behind him. He turns the knob to ensure it’s locked. “Ready to go, hyung?”

Minho steps closer to pull the mittens from Jeongin’s pockets and offers them to him. “Put these on, baby boy. It’s cold out there.”

Jeongin takes the mittens with a frown. “We’ve still got an elevator ride before we get outside. I’ll put them on before we leave the building.”

Is Minho fussing too much? Has he implied that Jeongin doesn’t know how to take care of himself? Has he overstepped? Minho glances at Jeongin as they walk towards the elevator and peers at his features, trying to discern how Jeongin might be feeling. He’s no longer frowning and his mittens are stuffed back into his pocket. Minho already makes the choice not to mention the mittens again. If Jeongin looks like he might be cold, then he’ll just take Jeongin’s hand and shove both their hands in his own pocket.

Descending in the elevator, Minho leans towards Jeongin so their shoulders can rub together. He hasn’t seen him since the night before, when they’d been sprawled out on the couch with cats curled up in their laps and watched anime after dinner. Minho spent the day running errands between playing taxi driver conveying Jeongin to and from work. It doesn’t really count as spending time together, too distracted by traffic and paying attention to the road to have a good conversation.

They were both already tired, but Jeongin had been excited about seeing this performance tonight. It was the largest venue 3RACHA had booked yet, and there were rumours of important figures in the music scene attending. This could be their breakthrough, and neither he, nor Jeongin, had wanted to miss such a pivotal moment for their friends.

“How are you feeling, Iyen-ah?”

“Tired. I wanted to take a nap earlier, but lunch didn’t sit well, so…” Jeongin’s voice trails off and he finishes off the thought with a shrug.

Minho frowns as he thinks of what he’d packed for Jeongin’s lunch. Had the tteokbokki been too spicy? Jeongin usually enjoys spicy food as much as he does, but with the pup, that could certainly change things. “We’ve got some time, so I’ll take the scenic route to the venue. You can pick some music, maybe get some rest on the way there?”

“I’ll try.”

Minho holds the door as they exit the building and Jeongin’s pulling on his mittens as he steps outside and heads towards the car. Minho flashes him a smile, glad that Jeongin will stay warm. He wishes his car had an automatic starter, so the car would be warm when they got to it, or had heated seats. Something he’ll have to consider when he buys his next car.

“Relax and try to get some rest, baby boy. Chan-hyung’s put us on the guest list, so we won’t have to wait to get inside, and there’s a VIP space waiting for us.” Minho had spoken with Chan about the venue when Jeongin had said he still wanted to go. Chan had agreed that they shouldn’t wait in the cold, and when he’d been informed of Jeongin’s sensitivity to scents since he’d started carrying a pup, Chan had worked with the venue to ensure the VIP space would section of a seated area for their use. Maybe he is fussing, but he wouldn’t say it’s too much.

“Alright.” Jeongin adjusts his seat so it leans back, and then closes his eyes with his arms laying over his stomach.

Ultimately, Minho doesn’t know if Jeongin was able to catch a nap during the trip. Glancing at him while waiting at red lights hadn’t provided any insight. Jeongin wasn’t snoring, but his eyes had remained closed. Hopefully, even if he wasn’t sleeping, it was a restful time for him.

Jeongin stirs as Minho parks the car. He sits up, then stretches, his hands forming fists within his mittens, and he yawns, not covering his mouth and then glances at Minho. “Sorry hyung.”

“For what? Did you not get some rest?”

“I didn’t plan on falling asleep. I’m a poor passenger, not keeping you company.”

Minho laughs and looks at him fondly, “I wanted you to sleep, baby boy.”

As he watches, Jeongin’s cheeks redden. “Oh, well, mission accomplished then.”

Minho is careful as they make their way to the venue. It’s been cold at night lately, and that can leave the roads and sidewalks icy. Having just woken up, Jeongin’s likely not to be as coordinated as usual, and even then, he’s often a little clumsy.

The line outside is long down the sidewalk, curving around the venue as they approach. When they offer their invitations, they’re quickly escorted inside. After checking their coats, Minho finds Jeongin’s wearing one of the new pants he’d recently purchased on the shopping trip with Jisung. A deep brown colour, and long enough in the leg to fit Jeongin. The colour matches well with the faded band t-shirt Jeongin’s wearing. Minho wonders if it will be warm enough, but with all the people waiting to get inside, it should be. If not, Jisung will probably have a hoodie Jeongin can borrow back in the green room.

Yongbok and Seungmin are already sitting in the VIP area when they arrive. They both pass when Minho offers to go get a round of drinks, but when he offers to get a ginger ale for Jeongin, he agrees. If Jeongin’s stomach is still not sitting right, then the ginger should help.

When he sets the glass on the table for Jeongin, Yongbok’s catching them up on how Chan, Changbin and Jisung just finished the sound check before they arrived. General admission will have the doors open in ten minutes, with the show starting twenty minutes later.

Shortly after the doors open, Hyunjin joins them in the VIP section, along with a date. Either Jisung hasn’t talked to Hyunjin since Minho last saw him, or that conversation went poorly and Jisung didn’t want to let Minho know.

While Hyunjin quickly introduces the petite woman, a few seconds later, Minho couldn’t recall what her name is if quizzed. It’s probably rude of him, but he’ll make sure to remember it should he be introduced to her a second time. At this point, Hyunjin rarely brings the same date to a second function. 

This one, apparently, is someone Hyunjin met at a recent art exhibit. She’s classy, in an understated way, Her outfit is tailored and it fits her well, the skirt flowing with a nice drape. Her makeup subtly refines her features, a pert nose and rounded cheeks which resemble another friend of theirs who Minho will not be mentioning.

Of course, Yongbok is kind enough to be polite, trying to get to know her when they’ll likely never see her again. Which is why they’re now being regaled with stories about the artists, the art, and all the celebrities who chose to attend the opening. Hyunjin has ordered her a drink, and is filling in details here and there as she talks about the night they met, with his arm draped over the back of her chair, his fingers curved about her shoulder.

Looking across the table, Minho catches Jeongin’s gaze, and Jeongin’s lips twitch in amusement as he glances over at Hyunjin’s date and then shrugs. Minho, trying not to laugh, hides behind his glass of cola before taking a sip. If he’s not careful, Jeongin’s going to get him in trouble with Hyunjin.

The table jolts, and only swift action on Minho’s part to steady Jeongin’s glass saves them from a spill of ginger ale over the table. Jeongin’s slowly turning red as he stands next to the table, his hands moving about as if he doesn’t know if he should reach to try to catch something, or hold himself back because he’ll make things worse.

Minho lets go of the glass and reaches out to touch the back of Jeongin’s hand, “Something wrong, Jeongin?”

“No, I just meant to go to the washroom before the set started.”

Looking around the club, Minho can see how crowded it has become. He starts to rise from his chair as he makes his offer, “Did you want me to help you make your way there?”

Jeongin shakes his head, waving his hand in the direction opposite to where Minho’s noticed the washrooms. “It’s alright. VIP has its own. I’ll be fine.”

Minho settles back into the chair. He’d been worried about how Jeongin would fare throughout the evening as more people arrived and mingled, but the VIP section is everything Chan had claimed it would be. There was nothing to be concerned about, and they’d both be able to enjoy the evening.

Jeongin makes it back to the table as the lights are dimmed and Chan, Changbin and Jisung make their way on stage. Knowing how clumsy Jeongin can be, and the struggles of walking around in the dark, Minho gets up and pulls Jeongin’s chair out from the table for him so he can sit back down comfortably. 

“Perfect timing, Jeongin-ah. They’re just about to get started.” Yongbok leans over to reassure him.

3RACHA dominates the venue’s small stage. Their opening piece is full of punchy and percussive lyrics, over a drill beat that Minho knows Chan worked hard to produce as the driving force of this track. Changbin’s raspy verse is followed by a smoother toned, but still as impactful, verse from Jisung. When Chan lays out the last verse, his rap is slower, but still spitting facts about the achievements and ambitions they have as a trio. The crowd is eating it up, energetically joining in on the chorus.

The next few songs have the same driving velocity to the lyrics. The crowd screams and yells, and the backing track is hard to hear, but Minho’s heard these songs before. He knows the lyrics as well as the rabid fans who chant along with Jisung as he kneels near the edge of the stage, or Chan as he spins or Changbin as he raises his hands encouraging the audience to get louder.

After the first ment, Chan wraps up greeting the crowd before they start off with some slower songs, letting the atmosphere in the club chill. 3RACHA does an upbeat song to get the audience swaying and moving again before Chan announces the first intermission and the house lights come back on.

The crowd packed around the stage disperses as people head off to get more drinks, go to the washroom, exit the venue to have a smoke or get some fresh air while the club’s usual music plays in the background.

Minho knows it’s been a long day for Jeongin. He’d driven them both to work that morning around seven. He’s also caught Jeongin attempting to hide a yawn here and there during the set, which mostly works, given his large hands.

Leaning closer so Jeongin can hear him over the music, Minho offers, “We can leave early if you want. Chan-hyung will understand if you’re feeling tired.”

Jeongin turns his head to look at him, and the tips of their noses almost brush. “I’m okay hyung. Tomorrow’s Saturday. I’ll just sleep in.”

Minho blinks at him slowly. “You say that because I’m doing all the grocery shopping and you don’t have to run any errands.”

He tries to keep his expression neutral and blank as Jeongin nods but once and then smiles, full blast, eyes narrow and dimples forming deep indents into his cheeks. “You saw my note about bananas and ice cream?”

“Yes, hyung saw your note. And you’ll get your just barely still green bananas and cookies and cream ice cream.” Minho reaches out to rub Jeongin’s back. “You need anything now? Another ginger ale?”

“That’d be great. I’m thinking I should also go pee again while they’re on break.” Jeongin scrunches his nose. “So annoying.”

Minho laughs, “Alright. I’ll meet you back here with your drink.”

If he’d had to make his way into the club proper, waiting for the ginger ale likely would have consumed all the intermission, if not beyond it, but the VIP lounge makes it easy. They really need to insist that 3RACHA perform at more places with VIP seating. He’s back at the table, placing the ginger ale on a coaster well before Jeongin makes it back. Minho doesn’t bother to sit, knowing he’ll want to pull Jeongin’s seat out for him, helping him to get comfortable again.

As Jeongin’s sipping his ginger ale, Hyunjin’s date leans over the table to smile at them. Is her name Chaewon? Chaeyeon? Chaeryeong? Minho can’t remember and no one’s said it recently. His thoughts are derailed as she starts talking, “You’re so lucky, Jeongin-ssi. I wish I could meet an alpha that would take such good care of me. How long have you been together?”

Hyunjin starts laughing. Minho’s rushing to stabilise Jeongin’s glass to prevent the ginger ale from making the surface of the table a sticky mess. Jeongin’s eyes are wide as he looks at her, his face mottled, as if it can’t decide if he should be going pale or blushing. Minho can feel his ears going red, the edges warm with embarrassment.

“They’re not dating. Just good friends and neighbours.” Thank Yongbok for calmly setting things to rights. Seungmin uselessly joined Hyunjin in laughing.

Chaeyeon, Minho decides is her name, stumbles through an apology, “I’m so sorry. You mentioned a shopping list, and Minho-ssi has been so kind to order your drinks and help you get seated.”

Jeongin waves one hand to dismiss the apology while holding his other over his face shyly. “It’s alright Hyewon-ssi. I’m the maknae, so all the hyungs dote on me. It’s easy to misunderstand.”

Ah, that’s her name! At least Minho hadn't fumbled it. He’s feeling pretty good about that, but he doesn’t like the way Seungmin is looking at him across the table now, as if there’s some weight and meaning to Hyewon’s assessment. He decides to focus on Hyewon and Jeongin’s conversation instead. 

Hyunjin has stopped laughing at least, and Minho’s wondering if he’ll pick up on Hyewon’s cues about offering to get her a drink, and being more attentive. Once the performance started, Hyunjin had all but ignored her. Things are looking hopeful as Hyunjin stands up, but then Minho notices that he’s pulling his chair out so Jisung can sit down because 3RACHA have come for a brief visit.

As he watches those at the table interact, he sees Hyewon’s eyes grow flinty as Hyunjin offers to get Jisung, and only Jisung, a drink. There is no way that Jisung spoke with Hyunjin. If he had, and it had gone poorly, they would be avoiding each other..

While Hyunjin’s off at the bar obtaining a glass of water, Hyewon rises from the table, apologises again to Minho and Jeongin, and states her intention to use the washroom during intermission. Minho notices she takes her purse with her, and while originally walking towards the VIP bathrooms, she swerves and leaves the venue.

Damn it. He’d just learnt her name.

It’s not until 3RACHA are running off for the next set and Hyunjin reclaims his own set, that he looks around the table and notices his date’s absence, “Where’s Chaewon?”

Jeongin does not look at all impressed with Hyunjin as he glares at him. “Hyewon-ssi,” he corrects Hyunjin, “likely went home because you ignored her the moment Jisung-hyung showed up, and you gave him all your attention instead.”

Hyunjin at least has the courtesy to look ashamed of himself. “Oh…”

Chapter Text

Jeongin is tired. 

Just as he thought he was starting to recover his energy at the end of the first trimester (or at least, getting used to the new energy levels) his body decided to change in uncomfortable ways. Between his tender nipples and the growing baby bump, he can’t sleep on his stomach like he prefers. Trying to sleep on his back only causes him to wake in pain with his spine feeling like he’s tied it in a knot. Sleeping on his side seems like the answer, but his hips are aching by the time he wakes in the morning. 

Maybe he needs one of those side sleeping pillows. He’s seen pregnancy pillows, but they look similar to side sleeping pillows, at a much steeper cost. For the time being, he’ll just try putting his extra pillow between his legs and see if that helps. If it does, then he’ll invest in one of those special pillows.

It certainly doesn’t help him get a full night’s sleep when he wakes up with an incessant need to take a piss. What’s worse is that he knows it will only get worse in the days and months to come as the pup gets bigger and the amount of room allotted to his bladder becomes even smaller. All of his organs feel like they are shoved into a small tin like a school of sardines.

There are times when he feels disgruntled, but no one coerced or compelled him into carrying the pup. He volunteered to do so, and even after being given many opportunities to back out, he insisted on going through with his original offer. As if each time someone told him he wasn’t obligated it fed the stubborn gremlin inside of him, making him more determined.

He doesn’t regret agreeing to carry the pup. Jeongin maintains the belief that Chan and Felix will be wonderful parents, and there is no partnership he knows which is more loving, considerate and caring. While no one is entitled to a perfect life, and even with the best plans, life will find a way to cause some havoc, Jeongin remains confident in his decision.

Jeongin tries to find happiness and joy in being pregnant.  Though it's impossible to deny how cumbersome and awkward it is. Some smells he used to like now cause him to feel ill, like corn dogs and oranges. He’s more easily overwhelmed when out in public, especially when he’s on his own. His omega seeks safety and seclusion. He hasn’t felt that way since Minho’s offer to drive him to and from work; he’s so rarely left alone, and never by himself in a large crowd.

Hyewon’s belief that they were dating the other week had shocked him, but he could see her perspective. From an outside point of view, they were close, and Minho’s role as Jeongin’s support alpha during the pregnancy could easily convince anyone that there was more between them than their long time friendship.

As the pregnancy progresses, and it becomes harder to hide by the loose clothing Jeongin wears, he suspects that more people will likely make similar conclusions. He’ll have to think about what he wants to say, if anything, to counter their assumptions.

Even now, wearing his loosest sweater, he has to watch how he moves or he’ll show off his slight baby bump. Knowing he can’t avoid the conversation any longer without making things difficult at work, he has set up a meeting with HR and the principal to disclose his status. He’s past the first trimester, and the risk of miscarriage is significantly reduced. The school will also need to make plans for May and beyond as he’ll be on leave. For his students’ sake alone, he’ll provide the school with enough notice to find a good substitute.

Giving the classroom one last glance, he’s pleased with how clean it is. All the music stands are in their proper place by the back of the room. The chairs are aligned in their curved rows, waiting for the choral class first thing on Monday. The board at the front of the room has been wiped clean, the dry markers all placed neatly in their tray. Jeongin just finished dusting the piano keys and closing the fall. Having run a couple scales, his perfect pitch tells him it’s almost time to have the tuner come visit again, though he’s likely the only one who will notice right now.

It’s a little later than he’d like to leave the school on a Friday, but it meant he’d be able to take his time cleaning and tidying the music room. Minho was going to be late due to an extended lesson. Something that was likely to happen more frequently as they approached the holiday season. The studio has a  winter performance that all the instructors are gearing up towards, and students are putting in extra time to be ready. 

Jeongin could take transit back to the apartment by himself if he wanted. He doesn’t feel as overwhelmed by scents as he had earlier in the pregnancy, but it’s still not a comfortable experience. His feet are rather sore at the end of the day, and he doesn’t feel entitled to sit in one of the pink seats, meant for the pregnant, old or otherwise impaired. He’s not really showing yet, and with the typical bias against male omegas he’d be expected to quickly yield the seat to anyone else who could claim it; it’s not worth the fight.

Waiting an additional hour for Minho is mildly mitigated by the drive taking half the time as public transit, due to the routes the bus takes. Maybe if they weren’t planning on going grocery shopping on their way home, it would make sense to take the bus, but getting home only to turn around twenty minutes later when Minho arrives to go shopping seems like a waste. The time is better spent in ensuring the classroom is set up properly for the coming week. One less thing to worry about over the weekend.

In the same vein of less things to worry about over the weekend, Minho usually grocery shops on Saturday, but with the additional dance practices, his weekend is being consumed by the studio. Minho had offered to drop Jeongin off home before going grocery shopping, but he’d declined. Jeongin hasn’t been grocery shopping in months, allowing Minho to see to that chore. While Jeongin’s mother had trained him to make a list before shopping, and sticking to the list to avoid impulsive purchases, it could be fun to walk around and see what might interest him, or the pup. 

Minho is already waiting in the parking lot when Jeongin exits the school. While Minho claims he hasn’t been waiting long, and the additional snow on the windows supports that claim, Jeongin knows that even if he’d been made to wait, Minho would deny it. If he’d been waiting too long, he’d have sent a text, so Jeongin knows it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes or so.

Inside the grocery store, Minho offers to let Jeongin push the cart so he has something to lean on. It’s an offer that Jeongin happily accepts, taking some weight off his feet.

“If you were smaller, I’d just let you sit in the cart, and I’d push it.” Minho pulls a cart out and wheels it over to Jeongin.

“Hyung, I’m almost thirty.”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t sit in the cart and let me wheel you about if you could?” Minho smirks.

Feeling petulant, Jeongin snags the cart and starts heading towards the produce section. Minho’s trailing behind him, fiddling with his phone as he looks for their list. Jeongin slows as he hears Minho rush to catch up to him.

“Let’s do the produce last this time.”

“What? Why?” Jeongin asks, looking around to figure out why Minho’s suggesting a change to their regular routine. There, by the fruits, his eyes catch on someone who looks familiar. “Is that Sanghee-ssi?”

“Hmm.” Minho’s expression goes flat, devoid of feeling. It’s the only way Jeongin can think to explain it. He doesn’t like it, not one bit. 

“Okay hyung. We’ll just shop around her. It’s not a big deal.”

They move to the other sections of the store, they’ll skip forward, pick up their canned and dried goods, dairy and eggs, frozen foods and then circle back to produce. Jeongin follows Minho around as they go up and down the aisles. He’s trying not to feel guilty about how Minho’s relationship ended with Sanghee. He knows they broke things off the night they had planned a fancy dinner, and they’d done so because Felix told Minho about Jeongin’s break up with Daehyun.

Jeongin knows he isn’t to blame. Minho had even told him that things weren’t working out between the two of them and he was tired of how jealous she was getting about his friendship. Even if the one friendship she kept pointing out was the one Minho had with Jeongin, that’s not his fault. Sanghee was insecure and controlling while they were together. Even if Jeongin hadn’t been around, he hopes Minho would have been smart enough to get out of that sort of relationship.

They’re walking past the pasta sauces, the noodles, rice, and packaged dry soups while Minho’s scrolling through the list. “Rice. Almost forgot the rice.”

Jeongin turns around to head back down the aisle to grab the large bag of rice he knows Minho keeps in his pantry when Minho catches the back of his shirt and pulls him backwards. The front of his shirt is held taut over his torso, leaving his baby bump defined, just as Sanghee walks around the corner.

“It's too heavy for you to lift. Let hyung get it.”

Jeongin stumbles backwards. He doesn’t think Minho knows she’s there yet. He can feel Minho’s hands on his waist, helping him regain his balance. Seeing Sanghee stalk towards them, the scowl on her face, Jeongin goes still. He catches a brief trace of his own scent, mouldy and stale, before it’s overpowered by Sanghee’s sour and rancid lemonade.

He knows the moment Minho realises who is now in the aisle with them, the click-clacking of her heels heavy on the floor, because Minho’s hands release his waist. Stepping in front of Jeongin, Minho’s spine straightens, and his broad shoulders tense, waiting for impact.

“I knew it.” Sanghee’s fingers, tapered with sharp red nails, tremble as she points at them. “You denied it. You always fucking denied it. But here you are, barely months later, and with pup, already? I knew it. You’re a fucking liar, Lee Minho. Asshole.”

Shaking behind Minho, Jeongin holds onto the side of the cart because he doesn’t want to prevent Minho from moving. He knows his scent is all over the place, stressed by the situation, worried for the pup, for Minho, and feeling threatened. He wants to run, run away, hide. He needs his den, his nest. He bites his lips together as a whimper escapes his throat.

Minho growls, even as the alpha’s scent builds and curls around Jeongin. If he were to close his eyes, he could imagine himself deep in a forest, a burbling stream beside him with a campfire to keep him warm. Jeongin doesn’t feel any less threatened, but the panic of his omega settles and the incessant need to run fades. He lifts his head, watching Sanghee from over Minho’s shoulder.

“Don’t you dare!” Her lips curl back, as she hisses, her words spitting into Minho’s face, “How dare you try to calm me?”

“I didn’t do it for you.”

Her eyes flash and her finger moves to point at Jeongin. “No, he did it for you. Little slut. Such a whore, can’t keep your paws off him. So needy, desperate, always wanting him around, can’t just leave him alone.”

Minho catches her wrist when she steps forward, looking to jab at him with her nails. “The pup isn’t mine.”

She laughs, a horrible strained sound as she tries to shake her arm free of Minho’s grasp. “You really are a slut, aren’t you? His sweet precious Iyen-ah. Get knocked up and then come around begging for hel—”

“—The pup isn’t his either,” Minho growls out the words. “Not that it should matter. What I choose to do now has nothing to do with you.”

She wails, but the running store clerk isn’t fast enough to stop her from slapping Minho across the face. Jeongin watches as Minho turns his head, cheek already red where he was struck.

Jeongin’s eyes narrow. He steps to the side to confront her, even as the store clerk is doing his best to separate them. Jeongin needs to clear the air. He knows Minho met her because she works at a music company, and his studio is working out a contract to provide choreography for their groups. 

“Sanghee-ssi, the only relationship between us then and now is friendship,” Jeongin attempts to reason. Why does his omega, called to the forefront by this confrontation, whimper at those words? “The issues you have, they are not with Minho-ssi. Your insecurity has you seeing things which are not true. Please reflect upon your actions.”

Sanghee spits towards them as she’s dragged away, vitriol still spewing from her lips.

Minho sighs once she’s gone and moves to stand beside Jeongin, placing a hand upon the small of his back. “Are you alright?”

Jeongin takes a deep breath and leans towards Minho, breathing in the alpha’s scent of crisp mountain air. “I’ll be better when we’re home. Let’s finish up quickly?”

Minho nods and steps away. Before he can go pick up their rice, the store manager is there, apologising for the incident, and letting them know Sanghee was escorted to her car, and she has driven away. After thanking the manager, they swiftly finish up their shopping, ensuring they complete their list. 

Jeongin doesn’t think about adding any extras to the cart. This is not the fun experience he’d hoped for at the end of his work week. He’s still jittery from the conflict, and his omega, while not panicking, is insistent that they need to find a safe place to recover.

It’s not until much later that evening, resting up against Minho with Soonie, Doongie, and Dori laying over their legs that Jeongin begins to settle. Minho made dinner while he had a shower. He dressed in his own clothes, but was quick to accept the proffered hoodie from Minho. With Minho’s arms around him, Jeongin’s omega is at peace.

“I’m sorry for what happened earlier,” Minho whispers against Jeongin’s temple.

“Hyung, no. None of that was your fault. I’m just glad you were with me.” Jeongin presses closer into Minho’s side. He doesn’t want to think about what might have happened had he been alone.

“I still feel responsible.”

“Minho-hyung, she was insecure and jealous. She tried to control who you saw while you were dating. She wanted to take you away from all your friends and isolate you,” Jeongin points out, stubbornly hoping to get through to Minho. “She needs help. She’s toxic. None of which is your fault or your responsibility. You didn’t make her attack us like that. We tried to avoid her.”

“Hmm.”

The noise isn’t as affirming as Jeongin would hope. If he can’t convince Minho with words, then perhaps he can ease Minho’s need to protect and be responsible for Jeongin’s well being in a different way. Slowly, Jeongin concentrates, letting his scent of warm fresh sweet bread encompass them.

Minho nuzzles his nose behind Jeongin’s ear. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Of course.” Jeongin tries not to sound smug, but he knows he’s failed based on Minho’s response.

“Yah, brat.” The words are fond, a quarter of the volume Minho might state them at any other time.

“Even if you don’t believe me, your alpha needs to know that I’m not upset or angry with you. That I feel safe and protected. That my omega trusts you to take care of me.”

“Iyen-ah.” Minho’s arms tighten about him. “Would you like to be scented before you head home to bed? Would it help?”

Jeongin nods, his cheek rubbing against Minho’s chest. “Yeah hyung. I think that’d be perfect.”

Their encounter with Sanghee lingers in Minho’s thoughts. Not only for how it brings his past relationship into the present, but also for how their most recent interaction can affect his job. There’s no fear that he’ll be dismissed; he’s worked with the studio even before he graduated. As a dance crew, they’ve done tours and competitions. His work is valued, and his coworkers respect him and seek out his opinions. While the studio will continue to prosper, even if the contract with the company Sanghee represents falls through, having the additional exposure, and additional reliable income would help them grow.

Sanghee hadn’t held that position when they’d started their relationship, but Minho is aware that the tentative offer was likely made because of it. The offer hadn’t been withdrawn when the relationship fell apart, so it’s unlikely that it will now, but Minho had still talked to the other partners to make them aware of the potential issue. He doesn’t want anyone to get blindsided by any retaliatory action Sanghee makes.

 What has Minho most unsettled isn’t Sanghee herself, but rather the way he had reacted at the time, and even afterwards. That he is willing to protect Jeongin is a given. By nature and character, Minho is inclined to protect others. With Jeongin being a close friend, he would always step in to ensure his safety. What he hadn’t expected was his alpha clamouring to protect Jeongin, to guard the omega, his omega. 

He’s glad Jeongin allowed himself to be scented before heading back to his own apartment that night, because Minho’s not sure his alpha would have been so easy to quell if Jeongin had denied Minho’s instincts to both calm and mark.

What is most troubling, is that his alpha’s need to stake some claim on Jeongin for his protection hasn’t faded. Thankfully, Jeongin’s been happy to wear Minho’s hoodies and sweaters. 

Last weekend, Jeongin had asked to be scented. His stomach had been troublesome, and he wasn’t sleeping well. Minho had complied, his alpha preening the entire time. 

In the past, his relationships had floundered because he didn’t talk about how he felt, his partners hadn’t recognised the care and thoughtfulness that went into his actions, or due to the strength of his alpha’s reactions. Minho figured he was doomed to be misunderstood.

Yet, he believes Jeongin understands him, in as much as anyone can. They speak the same language when it comes to showing how they care for others, guided by actions rather than words. Knowing that Jeongin’s omega wants his alpha to understand that Jeongin feels protected, secure and safe is terrifying. All his dating history proves he’s not deserving of that level of trust. There will come a time where Jeongin won’t see clearly how Minho cares for him, or his alpha will overstep.

Minho can feel their relationship shifting and changing, and his footing doesn’t feel grounded. This, whatever they have now, is not sustainable. Jeongin accepts him as an alpha figure because he’s a stand-in for Chan. It’s not that complicated, no matter what his alpha may want, or how his heart has begun to yearn.

It could just be the required proximity that’s making him think these things. That the situation is causing him to muddle what is real with what is not. If he hadn’t experienced this, he may have never wanted Jeongin at all. He had never thought of Jeongin this way before, and likely never would have. 

None of that matters though. Minho will perform his duty, be true to his promise, and support Jeongin throughout the pregnancy until the birth of the pup.

Which is why he had to make arrangements with another instructor and swap classes today. Jeongin’s first ultrasound appointment is this afternoon. Jeongin had booked the appointment when the school would be closed for the day. Chan had offered to accompany Jeongin to the appointment as his schedule was not as structured, but Minho knows things are just starting to fit back in place for Chan with Yongbok.

Neither Chan nor Yongbok want to know the pup’s sex. Jeongin’s proclamation that he’s bad with secrets means Dr. Park won’t disclose anything during the ultrasound other than the relative health of the pup.

When Minho picks up Jeongin up from the apartment, he’s all decked out in winter apparel. A warm woollen hat, the long puffer jacket which looks fit to bursting its seams at Jeongin’s waist. His mitten clad hands are tucked into his pockets, and his fur-lined boots look like oversized slippers on his feet. Around his neck is Minho’s scarf from their walk the month before; Jeongin hadn’t offered to return it and Minho hadn’t asked.

They’re early to the appointment, which means they end up waiting longer in the cramped waiting room than Minho would like as the doctor’s running behind schedule. 

Minho makes the best of it, finding Jeongin an open seat near the fan, hoping that will help drive the other scents away. Jeongin’s not mentioned it lately, but Minho suspects that too many scents could still be problematic. After the first five minutes, Jeongin looked like he was overheating, swaddled in all his garments. Minho took his coat, hat, scarf and mittens and held them over his lap so Jeongin could be more comfortable.

While there is no change to Jeongin’s scent, Minho can feel him shift in his chair, trying to get comfortable. “Is everything okay?”

Jeongin stills and looks at him, his expression akin to that of a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Why does he look guilty? “Just impatient. I didn’t know we’d have to wait, and I know you’ve got a class to teach.”

Minho pats Jeongin’s knee before he stands up, “Don’t worry about that. Bada-noona already said she’d stay until I got back, just in case. I’ll go ask how much longer though.” Minho shoots him a little smirk. “I’ll also ask where the toilets are.”

“Yeesh,” Jeongin hisses as he blushes. “Don’t pick on me for my compressed bladder.”

Giggling as he walks away, Minho heads to the counter. He has a short conversation with the receptionist before heading back to his seat. He doesn’t want to leave Jeongin alone for too long, but on his way back, it appears Jeongin’s made conversation with the woman beside him.

Though hidden, Minho knows Jeongin’s smiling shyly behind his raised hand. His alpha’s raised hackles are easily soothed by noting the way Jeongin leans forward to engage, and the narrowed squint of his eyes, speaking to his comfort or amusement with their shared discourse. The woman is obviously pregnant, and radiates with joy. If he had to guess, Minho would suspect this visit would likely be her last before she gave birth.

He slows his approach so they can speak a while longer. He knows Dr. Park had mentioned there were groups of expecting mothers that Jeongin could join for support to be able to talk about how the pregnancy progresses, and the daily ups and downs of carrying a pup. So far as he knows, Jeongin hasn’t joined one, at least not one in person. Maybe after this Minho should urge him to consider doing so. The only person in their friend group that’s had experience is Yongbok, and Minho already knows Jeongin wouldn’t go to him for help. It’d be too painful.

“How far along are you?”

“Thirteen weeks now,” Jeongin admits, “I’m starting to feel like I’m getting my energy back.”

The woman laughs. “Enjoy it while you can. Soon you’ll feel so heavy, you won’t want to move. I’ve been waiting here for so long I wish my Minseok were here to help me stand up when I’m called. My knees feel so old!”

“There’s only one person before us now, and the toilets are down the hall to the left.” Stepping closer, Minho places his hand on Jeongin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry your partner couldn’t be here with you. When you’re called, I’ll help you stand, if you like.”

“That would be lovely,” she says, leaning back so Jeongin can pick up the winter garments Minho had left behind so he can sit again. “Usually he wouldn’t travel this close to my due date, but there’s an emergency at work, and he’s up for a promotion, and when you’re a beta you have to…” She waves her hand with a bashful lowering of her eyes. “Ah, you don’t need to hear about that.”

“Work ten times harder?” Minho offers with a rueful grimace. He knows that in many ways, he exists within a place of privilege. He’s an alpha, and the daily fights of the omegas and betas to be recognized as valued and equal members of the workforce is something he can never fully understand. “You have other pups?”

She nods, seemingly happy to be distracted, “Yes, two. We’re so lucky Eomma came to visit a month before. She’s home with them now. Else I’d have them here with me, and they would not do well with the wait. They’re five and three and they don’t care to just sit around. This is your first?”

Minho blinks slowly, trying to figure out how or if he should explain their circumstances when Jeongin rests his large hand over his stomach and says, “Yes.”

Turning his head to look at Jeongin, he blinks again. He can feel the heat in his ears, matching the brush of rosy hue along Jeongin’s sharp cheekbones. Are they less sharp than they used to be? Somehow, Jeongin seems to soften as the pregnancy progresses, his chest is fuller, his butt was more supple when he’d last given it a playful tap.

Minho supposes this is no different than when he hadn’t bothered to correct the sales clerk the other day. Neither of them are likely to see the woman again. Nor is she entitled to knowing about their lives. Even if he does have to remind his preening alpha that the pup isn’t theirs. That Jeongin isn’t theirs. Only to feel as if his alpha has turned its back to him and is now sulking.

Remaining quiet for the rest of the conversation, Minho rises to his feet when the woman looks up as her name is called. He offers his hands to help her stand and only lets go when she loosens her own grip. “I hope your family is all together again when the pup arrives,” Minho says.

“I hope so too.” She smiles, looking between Minho and Jeongin. “The two of you are in for an adventure. It won’t always be easy, and there’s really no manual for parenting. Just talk to each other and you’ll do well.”

Minho arches a brow as he looks at Jeongin, who blushes in response, and demurely says, “Thank you, noona.”

Though the words are hushed, spoken under her breath, the darkening hue of Jeongin’s cheeks informs Minho that they both heard her say, “Such a lovely couple,” as she walked away.

They sit in silence while they wait. It doesn’t bother Minho. It’s a waiting room and there’s not much to do. The music is quietly ambivalent in the background, there as a comfort rather than a distraction. Or at least, it doesn’t bother him until he notices how Jeongin’s scent has withdrawn, how Jeongin is glancing at him, but not meeting his eyes, and how Jeongin’s picking at his nails again.

Minho places a hand over Jeongin’s to prevent him from destroying his cuticles. “Iyen-ah?”

“I’m sorry, hyung.”

What? Jeongin can’t still be feeling guilty about taking him away from the studio, can he? “I told you it’s okay. Bada-noona’s covering for me. She doesn’t mind. She said she’ll let me pay her back later.”

Jeongin shakes his head, “No, not that. For not correcting the assumption that we’re a couple.”

Minho blinks, and then blinks again more slowly. Oh, so that’s what’s been worrying him. Minho pats Jeongin’s hand and releases a steady calm scent of mountain air, pine trees and dew on wildflowers. “It’s okay. We’ll probably never see her again, and she doesn’t need to know all the details. She’ll go home later, talk to her Minseok and tell him about how she met the loveliest couple who are expecting their first pup today, and it hurts no one to think that.”

No one, except his alpha perhaps, who is still sulking over having been reminded that neither the pup, nor Jeongin are theirs.

Though Jeongin smiles, he doesn’t appear to be convinced, and his scent doesn’t perk up as Minho had hoped it would. Minho’s about to lean forward and nudge him playfully until his mood improves, but Jeongin’s name is called. He's left scrambling to pick up all the winter apparel so he can race to catch up and slide into the room the attendant holds open for them.

Minho’s glad it doesn’t take Dr. Park long to join them, because he’s not sure what to say or do to break Jeongin out of his funk. He doesn’t know what caused it. Jeongin had seemed cheerful and happy earlier. Minho sets the concerns aside for later. If Jeongin doesn’t seem better after the appointment, then he’ll figure it out.

Having introduced himself, Minho finds Dr. Park is as cordial in person as she is in emails. Minho notices Jeongin’s curious expression when Dr. Park asks him if he has any follow up questions regarding the alpha behavioural studies she’d forwarded to him. Internally he winces. Perhaps he should have mentioned to Jeongin he’d reached out to ask for any studies or advice on how to help his alpha accept and care for a pup that isn’t his. 

Minho knows his alpha can be territorial and possessive. He wanted to make the transition from Chan and Yongbok caring for Jeongin as easy as possible. The last thing Jeongin needed was another instinctual outburst that would cause him to feel even more isolated or abandoned. Thankfully, being in close proximity to one another, spending time in each others’ homes, and Jeongin’s easy acceptance of wearing his hoodies or being scented had his alpha content enough to overlook any change in Jeongin’s condition. 

It probably also helps that if they’d been running out in the woods, Chan would be the leader of their wolf pack. In modern days, living in civilization, they haven’t formed a pack, but his alpha still understood the hierarchy. He didn’t know if he or Changbin would be Chan’s chosen second, but it also doesn’t matter at the end of the day. If there was something Chan or their friends needed, neither he or Changbin would be fighting over who got to take care of it; they’d be working together to see it done.

“No, thank you, Dr. Park,” Minho says, scratching at the back of his neck. He glances at Jeongin sheepishly. “Everything you sent over was really helpful. I’m glad some studies had been done.”

“As was I. While in vitro isn’t exactly new, most of the scientific world is quite willing to see ourselves as civilised, and overlook our secondary genders and their instinctual needs. It can be difficult to find recent studies on bringing in new members to a pack, or accepting the offspring of a new partner from a prior mate. Most of the research goes into the study of the omegas involved in the surrogacy process.” Dr. Park turns to the computer and pulls up Jeongin’s file. “I got the results from your latest blood tests, and everything looks good. I’ll take your blood pressure, get you weighed and then do the ultrasound. I know the parents of the pup don’t want to know the sex, but do you?”

Jeongin vehemently shakes his head. “No, I can’t be trusted not to let something slip.”

Minho laughs. Jeongin is hopeless with secrets.

“Well then, if the pup isn’t shy and does wish to let us know, I’ll write it down and seal it in an envelope.” She turns to Minho. “Can you be trusted?”

“I’ll put it in a good hiding spot and make them ask me twice before I hand it over.”

The doctor nods, and proceeds with the rest of the examination. Jeongin’s blood pressure is a little higher than it was before, but that is expected at this point in the pregnancy. His weight is increasing within limits, and overall the doctor appears pleased as she helps Jeongin settle back on the examination bed for the ultrasound.

While Jeongin is watching the screen, Minho is looking at Jeongin’s face. The awe and yearning which passes over his features makes Minho’s heart clench. If only there was something he could do to help Jeongin realise his own dreams.

“Go away, hyung.” Jeongin steps away from the warmth of Minho’s arm around his shoulder, and dodges Minho’s attempt to pull him back in. “Stop it.”

He fights back the urge to pout as Minho laughs. At any other time, he’d cross his arms over his chest, but that’s become more difficult to do lately, and besides, they’re getting some questionable looks from other people while they stand there in the middle of the mall walkway.

With a belaboured sigh, Jeongin tugs Minho off to the side. “Hyung, I can’t have you with me when I buy your present.”

A frown decorates Minho’s face as he leans closer to be heard over the music playing on the mall speakers. In the background, there’s also the sound of all the people, the swishing of fabrics as they pass by each other, the wet thud of boots trampling through snow they’ve trudged inside now melting on the floor, and the rumbling susurrus of constant chatter. “Why not?” Minho says, “I already know whatever you get me, I’ll appreciate it. You’re thoughtful that way.”

“And I suppose it’s alright if I’m there while you buy my present?”

Minho smirks. “I already have your present.”

Jeongin huffs, “Hyung, I want it to be a surprise.”

Listing to the side with the bags of presents they’ve already purchased, Minho looks around the busy mall with a disgruntled expression. “Do you have your phone with you, or did you leave it with your jacket in the car?”

Patting his pocket, Jeongin feels the case of his phone press into his thigh. “I’ve got it with me.”

“You’ll be okay by yourself? It’s crowded in here.”

“Hyung, I’ll be fine. I can handle this on my own.” It’s not like this is the first time he’s ever been out shopping by himself.

“Meet back here in an hour then?”

Jeongin nods and pulls out his phone to set his timer for 50 minutes. He can get back to this spot in ten minutes from anywhere in the mall. He has a rough idea of what he wants to get Minho, but there’s only two stores he’ll need to visit.

When they part ways, his first stop is the book store. Minho has yet to pick up Keigo Higashino's most recent book. It’s an easy gift. The most difficult part was telling everyone else not to get it for him. Everyone knows who Minho’s favourite author is.

The other part of the gift Jeongin wants to give Minho is more difficult. He knows very little about hiking. Walking around in the outdoors is not one of his favourite things to do, but he knows Minho enjoys it. Jeongin’s gone camping from time to time, and he’s even been out on nature walks, but he’s more of a reluctant participant than an adventurous aficionado.

There is a sporting store that Jeongin knows Minho has bought things from in the mall, so that’s his next, and hopefully last, stop. 

His feet are getting sore. They got up early to do all their Christmas shopping together and try to hit the malls before they got too busy. While they did arrive early, the tactic would have worked better a few weeks ago, rather than this close to the holiday. It feels as if everyone’s put off their gift buying until the last minute. Neither he nor Minho had a choice. Their schedules had been too full.

Or at least, he thought their schedules had been too full. Seems like Minho had found time to do some shopping, as he admitted to already purchasing Jeongin’s present. He’s curious about what the present might be. Minho’s gifts tend to be odd, sometimes useful, but usually flavoured with his quirky sense of humour. If pressed to describe Minho’s gift giving habits, Jeongin would have to say the recipient would gain something they’d never think to buy themselves, but would somehow find strangely useful.

Just the other day, he’d mentioned to Seungmin the difficulty he’d been having sleeping, and how he’d thought about getting a body pillow. Seungmin had laughed and reminded him about the tortoise shell pillow Minho had gifted Jeongin years ago on a lark for his birthday. He’s been sleeping better ever since he pulled it out of the closet.

Though he had celebrated Christmas as a child, it had been a different experience. His family would attend mass, and then congregate to eat a meal together. It hadn’t been about Santa, or gift giving, or flying reindeer. There’d been no snowman in Busan. Snowfall was rare, and even then, it wouldn’t stick around long enough for a snowman. There might be a small snowball fight with his brothers, if the timing was right.

Winter in Seoul is colder, and Jeongin has seen his share of snowmen. He’s even helped build them during recess with the school children in past years. Though, he won’t be doing that this year. Crouching down like that wouldn’t do his back any favours, never mind the strain of pushing the snowball, or lifting it into place. 

But the biggest reason why Christmas in Seoul is different is not the weather, or the snow. The move alone wouldn’t have caused Jeongin to start celebrating a more secular Christmas. Meeting Felix had changed everything.

Most people went home for winter break, but Jeongin’s parents were travelling that year, Jisung had too much coursework to travel back to Malaysia, and Felix couldn’t afford the flight home to Australia. While Jeongin figured he’d still get to attend mass at a local church, he wasn’t upset about having to remain in Seoul. Felix, on the other hand, was inconsolable.

Jisung returned from working on his project a week before Christmas. He’d spoken with some seniors in his department, and while Changbin had never celebrated he was quick to support Chan’s suggestion that they have a party to celebrate and lift Felix’s mood. Chan had even gone so far as to describe the usual Christmas decorations and party foods back in Australia, so Jisung could cheer Felix up.

Jeongin and Jisung had planned the party in secret for their dorm mate. They’d invited everyone they knew who would still be in town, or could easily make it back for an evening. Jisung invited Changbin and Chan. Jeongin had invited Seungmin, knowing his friend from choir lived in town. From there, Seungmin remembered Felix, Hyunjin and Minho working with him in his department’s latest musical production. Jisung and Jeongin were swift to accept Seungmin’s offer to reach out to them, as they’d heard Felix mention their names when talking about his dance classes.

At first, Felix hadn’t wanted to leave their dorm, wallowing in his misery and missing his family. However, Jeongin and Jisung had insisted he come with them for dinner, and Felix had finally relented. Felix had cried when they led him to the table in the restaurant where their friends were already gathered. He’d cried even harder when Chan had greeted him in English. The words were easy to understand for Felix after he had struggled for months, trying to communicate in Korean, but the familiarity of Chan’s accent was like having a piece of home beside him again when he missed it most.

It was a beginning for all of them. It was the first time Jisung and Hyunjin ever argued. Jisung made a comment about how Hyunjin was too pretty to also be smart. He’d meant it as a compliment, like Hyunjin had been blessed to be both, but Hyunjin didn’t take it that way. It was during their dinner that Chan had started the tradition of the youngest being served first at dinner. When they went to the noraebang later, Seungmin sang and Changbin insisted that 3RACHA should start having Seungmin do their track demos for later projects. Hyunjin had insisted that Minho was a good teacher, and Felix proposed he prove this by teaching Jeongin, notoriously clumsy with two left feet. Jeongin isn’t sure he could still do the small piece of choreo now, but he apparently had done well enough to earn a butt pat from Minho.

In that one evening, their lives had intertwined in a way that none of them wanted to untangle. Christmas is now a tradition, one full of good food, gift giving and noraebang. Though Jeongin insisted everyone could still drink if they wanted to, in solidarity this Christmas will be their first dry holiday. He’s not sure how that will translate to the antics they usually get up to while passing around the microphone later in the evening. It’s likely nothing would change; they’re all willing to act like fools for fun anyway.

However, before they can celebrate Christmas, Jeongin needs to finish shopping.

He feels lost from the first moment he walks into the sporting and adventure equipment store. He must also look lost, because a clerk is there to greet him once he’s stepped past the opening display.

“Is there something I could help you with?” Polite, deferential, and a small bow follows those words. The clerk smiles brightly, her bob-length hair swinging from the motion of her quick bow.

Jeongin smiles back. The clerk is wearing scuffed up hiking boots, scratches on the leather at the toe, and grass stains around the ankles. That’s a good indication she knows something more than he does. “I have a friend who has been hiking for years, and I thought there might be something I could get here that would be helpful.”

“Ah, if your friend has been hiking for years, there’s no need for hiking boots, a compass, canteen or knapsack.” She slowly turns around to look at all the items placed in the store. “We have new shirts that are made of wicking fabrics, which block UV rays. Maybe a hat might help as well? A first aid kit could be a good idea. Items in a kit do need to be constantly replaced as the items inside are used or expire.”

He likes the idea of being able to keep Minho safe. Safe from the sun, and protected from any injury that might happen. “The clothing sounds good, and the first aid kit. He actually mentioned needing to replace his backpack, so if you could show me those as well?”

“Of course. Follow me.” She walks him around the store, pointing out any items on discount, and items she’s used herself and had success with. By the end of the trip through the store, Jeongin’s picked out a bucket hat with a mountain and a rabbit embroidered on it, a thin UV protection shirt with long sleeves in green, a knapsack which Jeongin isn’t sure is suitable, but it has a sandy coloured fox stitched on the front pocket. He figures he can tell Minho that the fox is as close as he’ll get to having Jeongin out hiking with him. A well provisioned, but small, first aid kit is the last item to complete the gift.

He’s in line to pay when his alarm goes off, so he pulls out his phone to message Minho, letting him know he’ll be on his way back soon. By the time he’s done paying, Minho has neither responded, nor read the message. Perhaps it was just too loud for him to hear the notification?

Jeongin doesn’t want Minho to worry, so he’s rushing his way through the mall, paper bag holding his purchases tucked against his side. The crowd has thinned a little as it edges towards dinner time, but there’s still enough people that his progress towards their meeting place is impeded. He’s having some trouble squeezing between people. His body’s not the shape he’s used to, and he has curves where he didn’t before that want to delay his progress. 

He’s almost reached his destination. Jeongin can see Minho’s jacket and hat through the crowd. While the cut of the dark jacket isn’t an identifying item, the long white bunny ears on the hat Jeongin gave him for Christmas two years ago is enough to pick him out of the moving tide of shoppers. With that hat, finding Minho is like playing Where’s Wally, only looking for bunny ears instead of a traveller wearing a candy stripe red and white shirt.

Having lifted his hand to wave, Jeongin finds it difficult to catch his balance when a young child breaks free of their mother’s hand and rushes out in front of him. He’s tripping over his own feet trying to avoid knocking over the child. He sees Minho’s head lift when Jeongin cries out in pain as he rolls over his ankle. It’s all he sees of Minho before he twists, landing on his side, the paper bag clutched to his chest.

The parent has reclaimed her child and is apologising profusely when Minho arrives. She was offering to help him up, or to call someone for him, but with Minho there, Jeongin smiles through the pain, and wishes her and her family happy holidays.

“What hurts?” Minho’s scent expands, rolling through the surrounding air like an avalanche. Though there’s still a lot of shoppers in the area, there’s now a distinct parting of the crowd around them.

“Just my right ankle, I think,” Jeongin winces as he tries to move, “though I think I probably bruised my elbow.”

“Can I help you up? Get you to the car?”

Jeongin accepts the outstretched hands Minho extended with his offer, and he’s slowly pulled up. Minho tucks himself up against Jeongin’s right side, placing Jeongin’s arm over his shoulder.

Testing his ankle, Jeongin lowers his right foot to the ground and immediately hisses, his own scent sharp as sourdough yeast. “It really hurts, hyung.”

“We’ll go slow. Can I take the bag for you, so you don’t have to carry it?”

“Carry your own Christmas present? No, thank you.”

“I don’t mind, Iyen-ah.” Minho counters, holding out his right hand to take the bag.

Jeongin tightens his grip around the handles of his paper bag, and moves it further away, out of Minho’s grasp. There are times when his long limbs come in handy. “I said I’ll carry it.” His words are sharper than he’d intended.

Minho’s concerned expression smooths out to the unreadable one he wears around strangers as his hand drops to his side. “Let’s get you back to the car then.”

The walk to the car is miserable. It’s long, and Jeongin can feel his ankle swelling. He doesn’t like the way he snapped at Minho, but also stubbornly doesn’t want to apologise for it. It’s his right to choose if he’ll carry something or not. It doesn’t matter if alphas are generally stronger, or that he’s injured, if he wants to do something, he’s an adult and he’ll do it!

However, the silence on the way back has him biting his lip, waiting for when they’ll be alone in the car again. He already knows how the conversation will go as Minho’s buckling him into the passenger seat. Minho will tell him that this accident is why Jeongin should have accepted his offer to accompany him for the rest of his shopping. That an unmated omega, especially a pregnant one shouldn’t be wandering around on their own. Then Minho will take him to task for insisting on carrying the present and snarking at him about it.

Jeongin sits in his scent as the sharpness turns more sour, with a mouldy top note. He is not looking forward to this conversation. He doesn’t want Minho to be angry with him, though perhaps he deserves it. He’s been belligerent, not accepting help, even when it’s offered more than once. He’s being stubborn, and not for any good reason. Just the usual childish omega responses to any offers of well intentioned alphas.

Minho gets in the car, and his hand automatically moves to start the engine, but the door closing seals them both in with Jeongin’s scent of growing anxiety.

Jeongin hears Minho shift, and a quickly raised glance finds Minho turned to look at him. He doesn’t seem angry. Lowering his eyes, he slowly inhales and finds that Minho doesn’t smell angry, or upset, or even frustrated. All he can sense is worry and concern, but maybe that will pass the moment they get back home. There are some alphas out there who are capable of controlling themselves until they’re in a private space.

He flinches back against the car door as Minho leans over to open the glove compartment. Removing the bottle of Tylenol, Minho offers it to Jeongin, “Tylenol’s safe for you to take,” His voice is calm, quiet, the same tone he uses when trying to coax Dori out from under the bed during a thunderstorm. “You can take one now if you like. There’s a bottle of water in the cup holder.”

Gingerly, Jeongin takes the bottle and opens it. He glances at Minho, not sure what he should expect now. He takes one of the pills and swallows it with some water, setting the bottle back into the compartment and closing it. “Thank you.”

Minho nods, and the way he licks his lips before he starts the car is uncertain. “Usually I’d offer you Advil, but it’s not safe for the pup. I just hope the Tylenol will help.”

The dank and decaying leaf scent that emanates from Minho isn’t a sign of anger, but of regret and fear.

Minho’s hand grips the gearshift, and before he can put the car out of park, Jeongin’s hand covers his. His omega is clamouring at him to do something, anything, to ease Minho’s dismay. “I’m sure it’ll help. Thank you, hyung.”

“Are you scared, Jeongin-ah?”

When Jeongin looks up, Minho is already looking at him. Their eyes meet, and all Jeongin sees is concern and despair. His fingers clench tighter to Minho’s hand, even as he shrinks in on himself, becoming as small as possible within the passenger seat of the vehicle. “Aren’t you angry with me?”

Minho blinks once, and then again more slowly. “No? Why would I be angry?”

Jeongin shifts, straightening in the seat. “I didn’t accept your offers to help, and then I was injured, and I still didn’t let you help me the way you’d wanted.”

“I’m upset that you’re hurt, but I’m not angry at you. You didn’t want my help, and while I might have wanted you to accept, that doesn’t mean you have to,” Minho speaks slowly, as if trying to unwind the puzzling knot of Jeongin’s thoughts.

“But it’s an alpha’s right to protect and care for an omega.”

Minho’s gaze sharpens as his jaw clenches. “It is an alpha’s privilege to protect and care for an omega. It’s not a right. I would never demand you do something just because I asked you to, even if I thought it was for your own good.”

“If I’d let you come with me, I wouldn’t have been injured.” Why is he trying to insist that Minho should treat him like every other alpha he’s ever known? He’s always liked Minho exactly as he is.

“Maybe not, but I would have also taken away your joy at being able to surprise me.” Minho counters as he slips his hand out from under Jeongin’s, allowing him to raise Jeongin’s chin so they’re looking at one another again. “I want to make your life easier. I want to help you. I don’t want to take anything away from you.”

Jeongin closes his eyes and leans his chin into Minho’s hand. Taking a deep breath, he can feel his scent calm. His omega purrs, almost smug, as if gloating that it was right about Minho. “I know it’s cold, hyung, but can we open the windows for a few minutes?”

Minho’s hand lets go of his chin and he turns back to put the car in gear so they can navigate their way home. “Yeah, we can do that.”

The past week has not been an easy one for Minho. He’s had to work, while also helping Jeongin recover from his sprained ankle. 

He’d driven home quickly from the mall that night. Faster than he usually would drive, feeling a necessity to return Jeongin home and have him surrounded in comfort. They’d need to elevate and ice his ankle. Minho also wanted to take a closer look to confirm it was just a sprain, but he knew if he took off Jeongin’s boot in the mall or the car, that the swelling might not let him put the boot back on, and while the boot was made more for fashion than function, as a lot of clothing Jeongin chose was, some support was better than none.

Jeongin was quiet on the drive home, huddled in his jacket, hands pulled into his sleeves with his fingers clenching the hem shut. The windows had been open for five minutes, letting the sour stench of Jeongin’s distress out of the car. Minho usually would have helped chase it away by freeing his own scent to take precedence, but he remained confused by Jeongin’s earlier fear.

This wasn’t the first time Jeongin had been injured around Minho. The man was lanky and clumsy. Especially when they were first introduced. Jeongin had just had his last growth spurt, leaving him taller than Minho, if just by a few centimetres, but his limbs were longer, and as endearing as Minho might find it, Jeongin has yet to shed his newborn deer trying to walk for the first time aesthetic. Jeongin has split things, dropped them, bruised his knees and scraped his palms by falling, just tripping over his own feet. If someone told Minho that Jeongin had managed to break his arm in his sleep, he wouldn’t be surprised.

So, it wasn’t the injury that had made things weird, even if Jeongin hadn’t shrugged it away as he has done with most of these sorts of situations in the past. Just a sigh at his own ineptitude, or lack of grace, followed by making the best of the consequences. 

Maybe it was the pain that had caused this particular reaction? Jeongin wasn’t even smiling now. Granted, he was in pain, and he wasn’t required to smile, but he usually did. It feels odd, anytime Minho sees him without a smile upon his lips. For the first few months in which they knew each other, Minho suspected that Jeongin didn’t know how to do anything but smile. When he’d met Jeongin, the comparison to Yongbok’s general bright happiness had been easy to make. With time, Minho had figured out that while Yongbok smiled, it was about his determination to be happy. That a happy perspective and attitude ensured happiness. Where Jeongin’s smile seemed more like a challenge to the world, speaking of a desire to be perceived as happy and friendly; a refusal to be seen as anything else.

The idea that Jeongin was scared of him, or thought Minho was angry with him was distressing. When Jeongin had mentioned the rights of an alpha, and the expectation of being berated for choosing to do something other than what an alpha wanted, Minho had been unsure of how to react. That’s certainly nothing Jeongin would have ever learnt within their group of friends. Felix had Chan so tightly wrapped around his fingers that Chan never ordered him to do anything. Jisung was constantly fighting with Hyunjin, and aside from refusing to pick up his calls or answer his texts until he’d calmed down, Hyunjin didn’t try to impose any restrictions or requirements on him. Though, Minho would be the first to admit that whatever relationship Hyunjin and Jisung have is not typical. Anytime they’ve seen Changbin with a date, he’s been kind, courteous, and well mannered. None of his relationships seem to last long enough to see him argue or fight, but Minho suspects that even then, Changbin would be gracious with a partner’s faults, just as he is with those of his friends.

He can’t think of a time in which Jeongin has been scared of him before. Or scared of any of them. But he was scared earlier. From the way he withdrew into himself, to his spoiled scent, Jeongin had displayed his fear in ways that had shocked Minho, and caused his alpha to tuck tail and whimper. Minho wants Jeongin to see his strength and know he can depend on it. He wants to support and protect Jeongin, to empower his ideas and champion his goals. He doesn’t want Jeongin to blindly agree to his wishes, or acquiesce to his every demand.

If Minho’s angry about anything, it’s the idea that Jeongin’s reaction on that day was a result of the partners he’s had in the past. That Jeongin may have been in situations where his rights had been overlooked or overwritten, where his needs had not been met or trampled, and his wants had been left unsatisfied. It infuriates Minho that someone, likely multiple partners, have at some point told Jeongin that their opinion, advice or decision mattered more than his own. That Jeongin has heard it enough to come to expect that behaviour from a partner. Even worse, that Jeongin struggles to accept his own agency should be primary.

The urge to find Daehyun and call him out is one Minho’s alpha fully endorses. But it wouldn’t help Jeongin, and Minho is reluctant to do anything about it just to soothe his own pride. Minho could go back through Jeongin’s dating history and give all of them a bloody nose, but doing so wouldn’t have Jeongin suddenly believing in his right to choose, or feeling capable of acting contrary to his partner’s wishes without fearing their response.

How much had Jeongin endured if it had taken the threat of being bred like an animal to cause him to leave Daehyun? Minho suspects he doesn’t want to know the answer, for it would only be more gasoline thrown on a furious fire.

While in the past Minho’s own partners may have seen his lack of dominance outside the bedroom as a fault, he’d never wanted a relationship where he wasn’t an equal partner. He wanted a partner who would choose to be with him, and how could they possibly do that if they never felt that any choice they made mattered? If he erred on the side of caution, letting his romantic partners voice their opinions first, and being willing to compromise to their benefit more often than his own, he didn’t see it as a lack of strength.

There was only five months left, but Minho was determined that in this time, he would do what he could to prove to Jeongin that his choices mattered, that his decisions could be respected, and that he was deserving  of care and protection because of who he was as a strong individual with opinions and desires of his own, not in spite of them.

He was careful in his care of Jeongin when they returned from shopping. As much as he wanted to lift Jeongin from the car and carry him back up to his apartment, he didn’t. He offered Jeongin a choice to walk, or be carried. He asked Jeongin if he wanted Minho to see to his injuries, make him dinner, and keep him company. He let Jeongin choose whose apartment they spent the evening in, even if it meant Minho had to dip out to retrieve some first aid equipment and feed his feline brethren.

He hadn’t been surprised by Jeongin’s lack of tensor bandages. As a teacher, Jeongin didn’t put the same stress upon his body as Minho did daily. When he’d looked at Jeongin’s medicine cabinet, he had found a box of band-aids, and topical cream. There was also a bottle of Tylenol, rubbing alcohol and some ginger chews. All of his face creams, lotions and serums took up the majority of the space.

Minho hadn’t even been able to find an ice pack in Jeongin’s freezer. He’d left Jeongin, changed into comfortable clothes, sitting on his couch with his foot propped by a pillow on the coffee table, and a bag of frozen mixed vegetables laying across his ankle. He had been wondering where his first anniversary dance studio hoodie had disappeared to.

With a couple of reusable ice packs and a tensor bandage, Minho left his apartment again, having bid Soonie, Doongie and Dori good night. The three cats barely seemed to notice his departure as they chewed their way through their bowls of kibble.

Upon his return to Jeongin’s apartment, he replaced the mixed vegetables with an ice pack. He put the veggies and the second ice pack in the freezer. While he was in the kitchen, he thought about making dinner, but he wanted to be available if Jeongin needed him.

After ten minutes of icing, he put the ice pack in the freezer, inspected Jeongin’s ankle, and then carefully wrapped it with the tensor bandage.

Pulling out his phone, he had sat back down on the couch beside Jeongin so they could order in food. They’d watch a movie, and he’d tuck Jeongin into bed later, after icing his ankle again and taking more Tylenol.

They hadn’t talked much about anything that evening, except what to get for dinner, what to watch, and if there was anything Jeongin needed. Though curious about Jeongin’s reaction at the mall, Minho didn’t want to demand answers when Jeongin was still in pain and recovering. It was something they’d have to discuss at a later time. He’d never had Jeongin wary of voicing his opinion with him in the past, or making decisions that he suspected or even knew Minho wouldn’t agree with. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, Minho voiced his objection, Jeongin changed his mind or did it anyway, and either way, Minho would still stand by him. He didn’t feel like Jeongin had cause or reason to be frightened of Minho’s response. It made him wonder what had changed between them.

By the end of the weekend, Jeongin was able to hobble around his apartment. He could get to and from the various rooms of his apartment, leaning against hallways or furniture. Minho stocked Jeongin’s fridge with food he could easily reheat for meals. 

With the winter break, Jeongin wasn’t working, but Minho did need to go into the studio. He made sure he wrapped Jeongin’s ankle in the morning before he left, and got him comfortable on the couch. He supplied Jeongin with Tylenol, a glass of water and some breakfast. He also reminded Jeongin to call him if he needed anything, before reluctantly leaving and heading off to work.

During the week, Minho counted himself lucky that all the routines he needed to teach were choreography he’d made far enough in the past to have them be muscle memory now. He didn’t need to worry about being distracted, constantly looking at his phone which he left face up anytime it chimed to see if it was Jeongin trying to reach him. Nor did he need to be concerned that his distraction would cause him harm as his lack of focus had him landing a jump poorly, or moving in ways his body would protest.

By the time the next weekend arrives, the swelling of Jeongin’s ankle has subsided. Diligent elevation, use of ice and compression, and the rest has helped him heal. He’ll still need the compression bandage, and he shouldn’t be on his feet for too long, but the Christmas gathering at Chan and Yongbok’s is comfortable and casual.

Minho already contacted everyone else, and they agreed to let Jeongin have the recliner in the living room so he can sit on his own. While that would be Jeongin’s preference anyway, seeing as how he insists he doesn’t care for physical affection from his friends, having his own space will also mean no one accidentally jostles his leg as they’re moving around.

He knows as he’s helping Jeongin out to the car to head over for the party that Hyunjin, if no one else, is likely to dote on Jeongin the entire night. They all have a soft spot for Jeongin, but Hyunjin takes it to extremes at times, attempting to make Jeongin flustered, joyful at any blush or action of squirming away. Minho will watch carefully, and if he thinks Jeongin’s being overwhelmed, he’ll find a way to tell Hyunjin to quit smothering Jeongin with love. It’s not like Jeongin can move about to easily escape.

When Chan opens the door, the noise which escapes the house indicates they’re the last to arrive. Minho can hear Hyunjin and Changbin’s laughter which overlays Jisung’s whine, likely because he’s being teased. Seungmin’s already got the noraebang going, singing along to some English song which typically only plays around this time of year.

“Felix is in the kitchen, just getting the next round of snacks out of the oven,'“ Chan informs them as they move into the hallway and he shuts the door behind them. “We made sure everything is safe to eat, so you don’t have to worry about anything, Jeongin-ah. Can I take that box from you, Minho-yah? If there isn’t room in the closet for your jackets, just throw them on the bed in the spare room.”

Minho laughs as he hands over their box of gifts. “We know where everything is hyung. I’ll help Iyen-ah get settled.”

Given how clumsy Jeongin is typically, and the sprained ankle, as well as the changing centre of balance, Minho kneels down to remove Jeongin’s boots and slides his feet into the house slippers that had been left out for them. He takes their jackets to hang up, and sends Jeongin down the hallway to join their boisterous friends.

Minho finds Jeongin already sitting in the recliner when he walks into the room. Hyunjin is hovering over him, tucking a blanket over his lap, and asking him if he wants anything to eat or drink. When he looks around the room and Jeongin meets his eyes with a smile, Minho knows that while Hyunjin might be fussing over him, at least for the time being, it’s welcome and bearable.

Chan’s over by the corner of the room, rearranging the presents under the tree so everything fits. The tree looks scraggly, probably the most ugly thing Minho’s ever seen, garnished and desecrated with copious amounts of decorations in clashing and garish colours. It is festive. He’ll allow it that much. Minho knows how much fun Chan and Yongbok likely had going to find the tree, and then setting it up in their apartment, sipping hot chocolate while they strung the lights and added all the ornaments.

It was something they all used to do together once their friend group solidified while they were still in university. Minho misses the ornaments the used to make to put on the tree. Little origami stars, trees, and deer. They’d string popcorn on thread because they couldn’t afford ribbons or garland. While the rest of the ornaments could be placed on the tree by anyone, Chan always insisted it be Jeongin who placed the angel on the top of the tree.

Looking up from where Chan is still rummaging around with the presents, it seems that tradition hasn’t changed. The top of the tree is the only bare limb left available, and the angel Yongbok’s eomma had sent him as a present the first year he’d been away from home over the holidays sat on the top of the side table, waiting to be placed on the tree.

He won’t remind Chan of it now. Jeongin’s settled comfortably in his chair. Hyunjin’s even moved a foot stool so Jeongin could elevate his foot. The angel can wait until they’re done eating and ready to open presents.

Gesturing towards the kitchen, Minho mouths the words, ‘I’m going to help Yongbok-ah.’ He waits for Jeongin’s nod before he heads out of the living room.

Yongbok is pulling cut up vegetables and fruits from the fridge when Minho turns the corner, which reminds him that one of the gifts in the box should likely be chilled. 

“How long until we’re opening presents?”

Yongbok looks frazzled as he steps away from the fridge, hands full of produce and the impression only deepens when the timer on the stove goes off. Minho laughs as he hears a deep and gravely voice cursing.

“I’ll get it,” Minho says as he steps towards the stove, cancels the timer and slides his hands into the kitchen mitts. “Does it need to be turned or is it done?”

A sigh accompanies the clatter of containers being set on the counter. “Can you stick a toothpick in one of the mini quiche and check if they’re done?”

Ah, if only he’d opened the oven before he asked the question, he would have known what to do. He pulls the trays out, the edges of the pastry are nice and golden, and he’s not surprised to find the egg mixture has cooked through, leaving no residue on the toothpick. “Done. Anything else need to go in here?”

“Not right now.” Yongbok raises his wrist to his forehead, pushing away strands of hair that have fallen forward while he’s been leaning over the counter. The tray before him is arranged colourfully. In the middle, green vegetables like cucumber, green peppers, broccoli and snap peas have been arranged in a Christmas tree shape. At the edge of the branches, small cherry tomatoes, radishes and bits of coloured peppers take the place of ornaments. To the side, are a bunch of cauliflower snowmen with carefully cut carrot noses, wearing the caps of button mushrooms for hats. “Oh, you asked about when we’ll open presents? Probably in an hour or so.”

An hour out in a room will likely have Jisung’s present not quite as chilled as it should be. “Do you have a tray for the quiche? I can move them over and then take it out to the other room.” He can also grab Jisung’s present on his way back to put it in the fridge.

“Right over there,” Yongbok says as he gestures to the seasonal tray with cartoonish reindeer frolicking painted on it.

Minho sets all the pastries on the tray and delivers it to the other room, letting Jeongin have first dibs before setting it on the table.

Doing a quick tour of the room, he greeted his friends, stopping at the tree last to catch up with Chan and retrieve Jisung’s present which he nonchalantly walked back into the kitchen, hoping no one would notice. Though he did get an odd look from Yongbok as he put the wrapped gift in the fridge, there were no questions asked. You don’t ask about gifts at Christmas; it’s bad form.

When Yongbok leaves the kitchen with the veggie tray, Minho picks up the fruit tray and joins him. The fruit tray isn’t as holiday themed as the veggie tray. Instead, the different fruits form colourful swirls out to the edge of the circular dish, surrounding the dips placed in the middle: vanilla yoghurt and chocolate.

Minho doesn’t ask Jeongin what he might like to eat. He chooses fruits and vegetables he knows Jeongin enjoys, adds some cheese and crackers, places a few of the mini quiche on the plate and pulls over a chair to sit next to him. The plate is set on the arm of the recliner between them.

Jeongin looks up at him with wide eyes. “Hyung, I can’t eat all that.”

“It’s okay, baby boy,” Minho replies, the fondness in his tone hopefully hidden by the cacophony of Jisung and Yongbok’s excitement over the game of Mario Kart they started playing. “I’ll eat whatever you can’t finish.”

Minho settles back, watching his friends interact. It’s been a while since they were all last together. Sure, they’d gathered for Seungmin’s movie, and to see 3RACHA perform, but that had been out in public with some of them off doing things. This was more like their old university days. They were just casually sitting around, having fun, catching up, and teasing one another. 

As they neared the hour and the plate of food was empty, Minho leaned closer to Jeongin. “We’re probably going to do gifts soon. Did you need the toilet? I’m going to grab Jisung’s present out of the fridge. I can get you another drink if you need anything.”

“I should probably get up, even if just to move a bit,” Jeongin admits.

Minho turns his head to hide his smirk, but the playful slap against his arm lets him know Jeongin saw it anyway. He laughs, standing to offer Jeongin some help getting up from the chair. Minho has noticed how it can be a struggle for him to rise from comfortable low seats, as Jeongin holds his hands to the small of his back, trying to counterweight the pup, and likely ease the ache of his back muscles.

He has a quiet word with Chan when he places Jisung’s present back under the tree. Jeongin’s not been sleeping well, between the pup and his sprained ankle. Minho doesn’t think Jeongin will want to leave early, but Chan agrees that getting the presents out of the way before their celebratory dinner of fried chicken arrives would be for the best.

Chan’s quick to catch Jeongin on his way back into the room so he can place the angel at the top of the tree. Minho supports Jeongin, an arm around his waist as he climbs the foot stool so he can reach the top branch and secure the angel.

While Minho gets Jeongin settled back into the recliner, his feet elevated and a blanket across his lap, the lights of the tree have been turned on, and the angel’s halo shines. Chan’s doling out the presents, delivering them to everyone in stacks. As per tradition, they’ll open their presents in age order, with Jeongin starting. This works rather well, given Jeongin could be rather impatient, and it is fun to watch Hyunjin suffer while he has to wait.

They all watch as Jeongin works through opening his gifts. A pair of shoes from Seungmin that he’d been wanting. From Yongbok, an Alexander McQueen leather backpack, which Jeongin tried to say is too much, but Yongbok laughs and tells him he’d traded with a friend for it, so he doesn’t have to worry. Jisung’s gift is a spa day, where they can relax and have fun. A flower painting with soft pastel colours from Hyunjin, which came with a note stating it should fit well on the wall above Jeongin’s piano. Changbin and Chan had gone in together and the card they gave Jeongin holds licences for music editing software, with a promise of lessons on how to use the programs.

Which means Minho’s gift will be the last one Jeongin opens. Minho sits there, hardly able to look at Jeongin as he reaches for the box. Minho doesn’t know if he had the right to give anyone something like this. It holds very little meaning to him, just beads on a necklace, but it would mean more than that to Jeongin, and to some, an alpha giving an omega jewellery of any kind could be a significant courting gift, but this isn’t really jewellery, is it?

He has to sit on his hands to prevent himself from cracking his knuckles as he waits for Jeongin to unwrap the small box and open it. Minho can see the creep of a blush along Jeongin’s cheekbones as he takes in the velvet of the jewellery box. He bites his lip as Jeongin blinks slowly once the box is opened. Unshed tears cling to Jeongin’s waterline as his long, slim fingers run over the silver cross, the small matte green beads, and the larger porcelain emerald and white spiral beads on a silver chain.

Picking up the centrepiece, Jeongin lifts it to take a closer look. “Saint Nicholas?”

“The patron saint of children,” Minho answers, finding his voice rough. He clears his throat before he continues, “I don’t know how much longer you’ll be able to wear your rosary ring, and I hoped this might help.”

Jeongin sniffs, and uses the cuff of his shirt to wipe at his eyes. “Thanks hyung.”

“Damn, no wonder you’re his favourite, Minho-yah.” Chan says, laughing, “How can any of the rest of us compete?”

“It’s not a competition!” Hyunjin insists.

Yongbok smiles at Jeongin fondly. “Of course not. Jeongin-ah loves all of his hyungs, don’t you?”

“Hyung,” Jeongin whines, trying to tuck himself in behind Minho.

They all laugh, and move on as Seungmin begins opening his gifts. 

Minho doesn’t pay much attention to the others as everyone reveals the presents they received. The clutter of paper, ribbons and discarded gift bags landing on the middle of the living room floor creates a mess to be cleaned up later. 

Instead, he finds himself distracted, watching as Jeongin works to get the rosary ring free from his finger, turning the band to and fro over the long length and prying it over the first joint. From there, the ring slides smoothly from the rest of his finger, and Jeongin carefully places it in the jewellery box, and removes the necklace. There’s a delicate shift in Jeongin’s scent as the ring is surrendered and the necklace is placed about his neck. If he were to sit closer, perhaps he’d be better able to quantify its exact nature, but it tastes both of reticence and sorrow, hope and happiness. As if while unhappy to set aside something he values, he welcomes the need to change.

He’d been hesitant to buy a rosary as a present. He knows how devoted Jeongin is to his faith. It’s a faith that Minho respects, but does not share. He’d done a lot of research. He’d consulted with Felix about it. Minho had worked with a local artisan to have it specially made. From the way Jeongin’s fingers keep touching the cross, the centrepiece, and the beads, Minho thinks he’s done well.

It’s as Changbin’s opening the last of his gifts that Minho’s attention is diverted.

“Yah. What is this Minho-hyung?”

Minho looks over at Changbin, finding him looking back, his gaze intent, as his hands hover over the open box on his lap. "If you don’t want it, I’ll give you the receipt.”

“I didn’t say I don’t like it, but I’m noticing a trend.” Changbin says slyly, his eyes darting over to Jeongin. “Looks like you both went in together on everyone’s gifts this year.”

“It was easier, what with my ankle and all,” chirps Jeongin, whose blush grows deeper as Minho looks at him and slowly blinks.

“Wait, I thought you twisted your ankle when you were done shopping?” Jisung isn’t trying to cause problems; he’s as confused as he sounds.

Minho closes his eyes and sighs. Jisung’s confusion is valid. As he thinks back, the only shared gift giving he can recall comes from Chan and Yongbok. He then takes a breath and looks at all his friends. “Is anyone unhappy with their gifts?” While he’s not surprised to find there’s a growling undertone to his words, some of them do look shocked or surprised. Changbin looks smug, while Yongbok appears pleased and Chan is eying Minho and Jeongin curiously. No one is saying anything. “Good. That makes it my turn, right?”

With most of the top note scents in the room being subdued, and no further comments, Minho shares a rueful smile with his friends before he proceeds to open his presents. From Yongbok, he receives an Asian fusion cookbook that he’d mentioned in idle conversation when they’d last met up. Hyunjin has rendered a painting of Soonie, Doongie and Dori, lazing about the different tiers of a cat tree. A year subscription to an Anime streaming service is an unsurprising gift from Jisung. Chan’s present consists of various spices from around the world for Minho to add to his collection. Changbin provides a voucher for a campsite in the mountains, while Seungmin gift is a booklet of tickets he can use for sauna or massage services.

When he reaches for the holiday themed paper bag holding his gift from Jeongin, there’s a scent of over proofed bread. Is Jeongin concerned about whether Minho will like his present? At this point, Jeongin should know that Minho values a gift more for the thought involved than its value. Given how well they know each other, Minho suspects that unless Jeongin had spent no time at all thinking about what to give him, he’ll be pleased with the contents.

The first item he removes from the bag is wrapped in paper, and rectangular. He can tell without opening it, that it’s a book, though he doesn’t know which. He looks over at Jeongin when he discovers it’s the newest book by Keigo Higashino. “I’ve not read this one yet,” he comments. 

The next item rattles when he pulls it from the bag. Or rather, it seems to have something inside it which rattles? Removing the wrapping paper, Minho finds a knapsack made of waterproofed canvas, bright orange, with reflective seam bindings. There’s a sandy coloured fox logo stitched on the flap of the knapsack. His eyes narrow as he peers over at Jeongin, his lips twitch with the effort not to smile. “How did you know I needed a new knapsack, Iyen-ah?”

To his delight, Jeongin squirms in the recliner, his hand clenching the beads of his rosary. “You mentioned you broke the strap on your knapsack the last time you went hiking before winter started.”

“Hmm.”

Jeongin’s voice is meek, “You should open it.”

Arching a brow, Minho tilts his head as he regards Jeongin, a smirk forming on his lips as Jeongin begins to blush. He has some mercy, given they have an audience, and opens the knapsack as he was bid. Inside is a wide brimmed bucket hat, mint green, stitched with the outline of a mountain and rabbit. There’s also a long sleeve thin cotton shirt to match, which the tags indicate provides UV protection. Neither of which explain the rattle he heard earlier, so he checks the bottom of the knapsack and finds a travel sized waterproof first aid kit.

“We’ll have to get you a matching shirt and hat.”

“Hyung, I’m not going hiking with you.” Jeongin’s nose crinkles in distaste. “There’s a fox on the knapsack. I can just be there in spirit with you.”

Minho laughs and looks at the bounty around him and all of his friends. “Thank you.”

He had planned on looking at Chan while he opened his presents, but Jeongin leans closer to him and speaks quietly, “I have the receipts, if there’s anything you want to return or exchange.”

The scent of over-proofed bread is stronger, now that Jeongin is closer. Jeongin must be anxious about the gift. Minho shakes his head and places his hand over Jeongin’s knee. “You did great, baby boy. I’ll use my gifts well. Hyung promises.”

Jeongin rolls his eyes. “So annoying when you speak of yourself that way.”

Minho grins, lifting his upper lip obnoxiously to reveal his bunny teeth, and is rewarded when Jeongin settles back into the chair and nudges him away.

When he looks over, Chan has finished opening all his gifts, and is thanking them all, while also looking pensively between Minho and Jeongin. He’s seen that pensive look from others in the past. It usually involves a conversation with a parent about returning a date home by curfew. A shovel talk doesn’t have the same power over him now as it might have while he was still in school, though it is disconcerting to think that Chan might feel the need to give him one.

For the remainder of the evening, the conversation flows freely. There’s some songs sung, and games played. The fried chicken arrives, and they demolish it. 

Jeongin’s resting on the chair, his large hands covering his extended belly, full of food and contentment. His scent has settled into sweet bread with a hint of apricot jam, though there’s undertones of chocolate and the salty ocean breeze.

Even from across the room, catching up with Yongbok and Jisung, Minho’s paying attention as Jeongin converses with Hyunjin. At the first sight of yawning, Minho makes his apologies and is quick to bundle Jeongin back into his winter boots and jacket so they can head home, his new knapsack full of their presents.

“See, Iyen-ah?” Minho slides his arm around Jeongin’s waist as they make their way through the parking lot. It could be icy, and Jeongin’s ankle is still sore. “The knapsack is already making itself useful. What wonderful gifts my dongsaeng has given me.”

In a rare show of affection, Jeongin leans forward to ever so briefly presses his lips to Minho’s cheek as he’s being buckled into the passenger seat. “Thank you, hyung, for the rosary. I hadn’t even thought of how tight my ring had gotten. It’s perfect.”

If Minho’s hat covered ears are red the entire ride home, and he’s fighting against the besotted smile as he delivers Jeongin safely to his apartment, no one else needs to know. Even if the scent of hibiscus which fills the elevator on their way up tells its own tale.

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!”

Chapter Text

After the winter showcase, life has eased back into what Jeongin refers to as normal. Is it normal for him to be pregnant? No, but in terms of what his life had looked like for the months he’s carried the pup, this is more typical and what he’s become used to. Minho is once again driving him to and from school. They’re eating meals together, watching movies, and their grocery shopping is based off a communal list.

Minho is there on Tuesday night where Jeongin mentions a craving for maple bacon pancakes with sweet and spicy pickles. Rather than picking on him as Seungmin would have, or having to deal with Hyunjin’s squicked out face, Minho goes into the kitchen and looks through his cabinets, pulling out the ingredients for pancakes. He quickly pickles some cucumbers, adding brown sugar for sweetness, and some red pepper flakes for heat, giving them a quick boil on the stove and sets them aside to cool. He fries up some bacon, then makes the pancakes in the bacon fat, serving it all with some maple syrup. He also manages to surprise Jeongin with oven roasted mango and peach slices over vanilla ice cream as a treat.

“Hyung, you’re spoiling me.”

“I don’t know what else I’d do with you, Iyen-ah,” Minho proclaims as he waits until Jeongin’s set aside his ice cream bowl to pull Jeongin’s feet onto his lap and begins massaging them.

Jeongin doesn’t know how to answer that, which may be part of the problem he’s been having since Minho’s absence the prior month had him realising how much Minho does for him, and in turn, how little he does for Minho. What else was there to do with him? What use was Jeongin to Minho? What did he bring to their relationship?

Keeping his face turned to the television, Jeongin hopes Minho doesn’t easily spot the frown marring his features. Jeongin knows how easy he is to read. His feelings seem to be there for anyone with eyes to see. He’s never been good at hiding what’s going on in his thoughts. He’d blame music, and its expressive nature, but given Minho’s ease with hiding his own emotions, and dance requiring a depth of feeling that is perhaps greater than that of music, the argument doesn’t hold.

He doesn’t want Minho to catch him thinking, or ask about what had him frowning. How horrible it would be to explain his thoughts and have Minho attempt to provide him with reasons why he values their friendship. Worse if Minho is equally unable to justify their relationship.

He can be cute, Jeongin can admit to himself, but that isn’t enough. He’s clumsy, which can be endearing or a nuisance, and that’s all a matter of perspective, timing and circumstance. He can’t cook like Minho or Felix. He’s not handy when it comes to fixing things like Chan. He’s more likely to break items than repair them. He’s not good with people like Changbin. His humour isn’t as good as Seungmin’s. He can’t talk about his feelings openly like Jisung. He isn’t sentimental and caring like Hyunjin, remembering everyone’s birthdays and surprising people with their favourite things. He huffs out a sigh. Why does anyone value his friendship?

Minho’s hand stills on his foot, and when Jeongin looks over, Minho’s already looking at him, curiosity plain on his face.

“Baby boy, you’ll get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that.”

Jeongin knows any of his friends would berate him for thinking so terribly of himself. He’s not sure they’d be able to give him better answers, but they’d all feel disappointed and upset that Jeongin was able to characterise himself in such a way that he was useless, and his friendship held no value.

Tucking the disparaging thoughts away, Jeongin offers Minho a tight lipped smile. Minho frowns in response, and then traces a knuckle up the middle of Jeongin’s foot in a way that has him squirming.

“Not a safe thing to do right now!” Jeongin squeals as he tries to tug his foot free.

Minho chuckles, and resumes massaging Jeongin’s foot gently, offering him a lopsided smile. “You’re not going to tell me what you were thinking, are you?”

Jeongin shakes his head.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Minho shakes his foot until Jeongin looks back at him. “If there’s anything I can do to help, I’ll do it.”

“I know, hyung. You do enough already.”

“Not enough, if you’re sitting on the couch frowning and upset.”

“You just set aside all your preparations for dinner to make me what I was craving, and you don’t think you do enough?”

Minho blinks slowly, moving his hands away from Jeongin’s feet to crack his knuckles. “I want you to be happy. I’m not saying you have to smile all the time. That’s not what I want. But if you’re not happy, if something’s bothering you, then…I’m not saying I can fix it, but if I can help, if telling me would ease your mind, I’m here.”

If anyone would understand how not wearing a smile might make a person look intimidating, it was Minho. Though, the alpha likely never had to deal with the constant pressure or societal demands of being happy, energetic and optimistic at all times. If an omega didn’t smile, they were rude; if an alpha didn’t smile, they were seen as reserved. There were so many emotions that Jeongin often felt he couldn’t show, just for how they would be perceived, no matter how justified he might be in that emotional response. Minho had never asked him to smile when he didn’t feel like it. He’d never had Minho demand that he calm down, or quit worrying, or told him that he was upset about nothing. Minho had never diminished his emotions. All Minho had ever done was ask him how he felt while extending the grace to let the issue drop if Jeongin didn’t want to talk about it. Jeongin would always be thankful to him for that.

“I’m not unhappy, hyung.” Jeongin nudges Minho’s thigh with his toes. “I was just thinking.”

“Okay.”

Jeongin wiggles his toes, and then pokes Minho again. “I do know I can talk to you about anything. If I wanted to talk to anyone about anything, you’d be my first call.”

Minho looks over at him, rolls his eyes and picks up Jeongin’s foot again, his knuckles kneading at the bottom of his foot in a way that makes Jeongin’s toes curl.

“I watched your performance again today.”

“Oh?”

Jeongin’s smile grows as he watches the tips of Minho’s ears redden. “I was wondering what you were thinking when you made the choreography, what message you were trying to convey.”

“Is that the thought that had you frowning?”

Jeongin huffs. He’d steal his foot back in protest, but his soles ache and the massage helps.

“Why don’t you tell me what you thought of it first?” Minho’s words are laced with amusement. “I want to know if what you saw was what I was trying to say.”

That’s fair. The moment he knows what Minho had planned, it would change how he viewed things, or how he framed his thoughts on the dance. “I felt you were playing two characters.”

“Mhmm.”

“One that was strong, a hunter, the other timid and cautious.” Jeongin bites his lip to contain a moan as Minho digs the pad of his thumb into the arch of Jeongin’s foot. “There…right there.”

Minho looks up at him, a smirk on his lips. “And what story did the two characters tell?”

Jeongin’s careful to steady his voice as he speaks, “At first, I thought the hunter was trying to find the other, as if they were prey. The night I saw the performance, I thought the story was the blending of characters, to show that there can be strength in vulnerability, and a vulnerability in being strong. That being cautious can be wise, and being bold can be reckless.”

“Hmm. Did you see something different when you watched it again, Iyen-ah?”

“I think it wasn’t just a display of traits in the one character you would find more typical in the other, but that there was interplay between them, as if one learned from the other, and that at the end, the two characters were one, rather than just being more complex than originally seen.”

Jeongin watches Minho’s hand flex as he massages, the tendons and muscles moving distinctly beneath his skin. Minho has strong, capable hands, something Jeongin has always admired. It has always impressed him how Minho took care of himself, exercised not to look good or the muscles, but because he wanted his body to be capable of whatever task he took on.

“Now I’m glad I didn’t tell you beforehand.”

Looking up from Minho’s hands, Jeongin finds Minho’s expression is one not easily read. It’s disappointing to have missed the mark. “I’m sorry, hyung.”

Minho blinks slowly, his hands continue to press into the bottom of Jeongin’s foot, easing the ache of standing most of the day and running after children. “Why? It’s not as if there is a right answer.”

“But I wanted to get it right.”

Minho shakes Jeongin’s foot. “Baby boy, you didn’t get it wrong. It’s art, and part of art is letting an audience see what matters to them. Our experiences are different, so we’ll see things from a different perspective.”

He doesn’t want to hold Minho’s gaze, so Jeongin looks down, his fingers picking at the cuticle of his thumb. “I want to see what you see. Know what you know.”

“You could ask.”

Jeongin nudges his heel into Minho’s thigh. “You could just tell me.”

“I could.”

Though Jeongin waits, Minho doesn’t continue. When he turns to face Minho again, he’s not at all surprised to see the smirk upon his lips. Jeongin sighs. “Hyung, please.”

Minho takes hold of Jeongin’s big toe and wiggles it before resting both of Jeongin’s feet comfortably in his lap. “I was thinking about expectations, and perceptions. How who we are isn’t always what people see, or even what people want us to be.”

“So at the start of the dance, you acted out what we would expect based on what we saw, and later showed us what was true?”

“That’s part of it. Part of it was also that we are more complex than what you see on the surface. That we’re all more similar than we are strange.”

“Then what we saw at the start wasn’t a lie, or just appearance, but it wasn’t the whole story.”

Minho nods, his hand running up and down Jeongin’s shin. “Right. There was a deeper truth to it, about the roles we have in society. The pressure and expectations we have based on secondary genders.”

“Ah.” Jeongin has fought against prejudice ever since he’d presented. Being a teacher was something he’d wanted to do from a young age. Now, most people he met seemed to think that he’d want to get married, have children, and stay at home to care for them. There were times when people were offended if he declined their interest in him. As if an unmated omega of his age should be desperate to start a family. In a way he was, but not so desperate as to give up the hopes of having a family with someone who would see him as an equal and respect him. There are times when he envies Seungmin the freedom of being a beta, or Chan, Minho, Changbin and Hyunjin the power provided to them simply for being alphas.

Thinking over the choreography, replaying the performance in his mind, Jeongin sees that it wasn’t the timid aspect that was empowered, but the strength of the other was also gentled. “Do you ever wish you weren’t an alpha?”

“No, but I struggle to measure up to the ideal most people have of what an alpha should be.” Minho sighs, his warm hand stills, resting on Jeongin’s calf. “I don’t always want to be in charge. I want to be gentle, kind, caring. I have no interest in being jealous, even if I can be possessive.”

“I didn’t realise it could be so difficult.”

“It’s not as hard on me as it is for you, I think.” Minho starts tapping on Jeongin’s leg, drumming to some unheard music. “I started thinking about this after we ran into Sanghee. About why it never would have worked out, and it was because I’d never fit into her mould of what an alpha should be. Much like you wouldn’t fit into Daehyun’s vision of an omega.”

“Hyung, you are gentle, and kind, and caring.” Jeongin wants to lean forward to take Minho’s hand, and comfort whatever nervous energy he might be feeling to have his fingers dancing against his leg, but the baby bump makes that action prohibitive. “Sanghee is a fool if she didn’t want that from you.”

There’s a wry twist to Minho’s lips. “Just as Daehyun was an ass for dismissing your determination and persistence. Any alpha who has ever slighted you for sharing your thoughts, who was offended because you didn’t always agree and submit, doesn’t deserve to know you.”

“Hyung.”

“No.” Minho’s eyes catch Jeongin’s with a strength that can’t be denied. There’s a growling undertone as he continues, “I saw it when we went shopping, Iyen-ah. The way you were scared. How you expected me to be angry with you because you’d disagreed with me. How you felt there should be a consequence for saying no. I don’t ever want you to feel that way again.”

The sense of shame is overwhelming. He’d never wanted Minho to see him like that. To have Minho feel like Jeongin had been afraid of him, not when Minho is his source of solace and comfort. Jeongin turns his head and closes his eyes. His hands tremble until he interlocks his fingers, nestling them over the pup. Fearing his voice might crack, his response is quiet, “I’m sorry, hyung.”

As Minho’s hand rubs Jeongin’s lower leg, it eases the pressure Jeongin feels in his chest, and he sniffs back a tear. 

“Why are you apologising, baby boy?”

“You thought I was scared of you. I…I’ve never been scared of you, hyung,” Jeongin strives to explain. “I was scared of the circumstance, and I was in pain. It felt familiar. In the past, when an alpha offered to help and I said no, it’s…It’s not turned out well. I shouldn’t have expected the same from you. I know you wouldn’t, but I wasn’t…”

Minho removes his hand and Jeongin wants to cry out, his lips quickly bitten between his teeth. His omega is abandoned, lonely, and wants to rise up and pull Minho closer. Then the pine needle and tangy sap draws nearer. When Jeongin opens his eyes, Minho is kneeling on the floor by the couch, looking up at him. Minho catches his eye, then reaches out a hand, hovering over where Jeongin’s hands are tightly clenched. “You were in pain. You were tired. It was a long day, dealing with crowds and excitement. I didn’t think you were scared of me, but I knew you were scared.” 

Jeongin unknits his fingers and closes the distance, encompassing Minho’s hand with his own. “I was. All of that.”

Gently resting his other hand against the back of Jeongin’s neck, Minho guides him forward until Jeongin’s nose is pressed against the side of his neck, letting the alpha’s scent flow over him. “I never want you to be scared like that again. Not of anyone, alpha or not. I want you to be free to be yourself, always.”

Jeongin nods, his nose rubbing against Minho’s scent gland. The shame flees and a wonder spreads throughout him, euphoric. Jeongin wraps his arm around Minho, pulling him closer and breathing deeply. He feels giddy as his lungs are infused with Minho’s scent. Is this what they mean by being scent drunk? “I’ll remember that, hyung. Thank you.”

“Good.” His hair is ruffled as Minho rubs his cheek against his head, and takes a long sniff. Minho’s voice is gruff. “You don’t need to thank me.”

Jeongin understands better now, nestled against Minho’s broad chest, surrounded by his care, what he’d failed to understand before. The performance was about the roles people play in society, but moreover Jeongin now believes it was Minho’s need to be seen, to be understood, that drove him to dance as he did. He sees it now.

Minho is so many things. Strong, caring, introspective and often indecipherable. He’s an enigma, a puzzle you can only solve with time and effort. He’s also gentle, generous and kind. Minho is wise enough to not only see how Jeongin struggles, but able to find ways to support him. Jeongin doesn’t know how he’s earned a place in Minho’s life, but he’ll strive to stay there, because he sees Minho, and even undeserving, he wants to remain in Minho’s life.

Minho feels almost feral when he picks Jeongin up that evening to attend Hyunjin’s art gallery exhibit opening. His tie is uncomfortably tight, and he’s glad of his scent blockers, because the sight of Jeongin opening his door wearing an asymmetrical black dress which has a swath of fabric only over his left shoulder and fit perfectly over his chest, then flows down to his calves, has his alpha drooling.

He tries looking down so he can avoid the contours of Jeongin’s sharp cheekbones and the delicate eyeliner which defines and seems to brighten his eyes. Minho can’t bear to look at Jeongin’s exposed collar bone without feeling an urge to scent and mark and claim him. But looking down doesn’t help, as there are tasteful gathers at the the side of the dress, below the bust line, allowing for extra fabric to fit comfortably over his growing waist.

Jeongin looks stunning. 

Minho wants to tell him to go find a scarf or a shawl, or anything to cover his neck. A silk scarf would work well, if he can’t leave his mark upon Jeongin’s skin to proclaim to the world that he has an alpha who loves him. An alpha who is diligent, patient and precise enough to leave a mark. Perfectly placed and subtle, rather than savage. There’s a desire to tuck Jeongin away and keep him from anyone who might show interest. 

As much as his alpha may want, Minho has no claim to Jeongin. Even if they were together, there’s no reason to believe that Jeongin would allow himself to be marked. It was an older tradition, along with courting collars, that had been set aside and replaced with rings and signed pieces of paper. For the first time, Minho was struck with an instinctual imperative, and he would hold himself and his alpha from taking action, no matter how necessary that action now feels.

“Hyung, just let me grab my jacket and we can go.”

Right, they actually have to be somewhere. Black tie, formal event, for Hyunjin’s opening night for his new exhibit. All Minho wants to do is step further into Jeongin’s apartment, close the door behind him, and spend the evening persuading Jeongin that not only has Minho earned the right to be his favourite hyung, but that he should be granted allowance to be more. That Minho isn’t the only one who wants to move beyond their friendship, but that Jeongin desires the same.

Minho swallows roughly. His throat feels raw. “You’re wearing the long one, right? Let me hold it while you put it on. Need to put anything in my pockets?”

Jeongin hands over the long jacket he’d pulled off the hanger in the closet. “I’ve got my clutch by the door.”

Holding up the coat, he guides the sleeves so Jeongin can put it on. He lifts the jacket to smooth it over Jeongin’s shoulders, and Minho leans in, closer than needed, just to inhale. Jeongin doesn’t even smell like himself, just clean lavender soap and that hazelnut hair product he likes. Minho waits until Jeongin stands up straight again after fixing all the buttons to step away. Setting aside the need to remove the scent blocker so he can properly scent Jeongin and extend some protection, Minho assuages his alpha with his resolve to remain by Jeongin’s side for the entire evening.

It’s a resolve he affirms when they arrive at the venue and check their coats and Jeongin’s long neck and pristine collarbones are displayed once more. When they move into the gallery, Hyunjin is waiting, a nervous smile and fingers that can’t stop smoothing the fabric of his suit. Jeongin steps forward and takes Hyunjin’s hands, and Minho watches as Hyunjin seems to settle, his spine straightening and his smile relaxes to something genuine with relief.

“Oh good, you made it.”

Jeongin laughs and gently squeezes Hyunjin’s hands, leaning in to whisper something. When he pulls back, Hyunjin is scowling, his cheeks aflame, and Jeongin’s smirking, his eyes squinted shut in amusement. If Minho had to guess, Jeongin likely said something about Jisung. Minho doesn’t need to guess why Jeongin would ask; Hyunjin is no longer an anxious mess.

Placing his hand on Jeongin’s lower back, Minho steps closer to divert the conversation. “Anyone else here yet?”

Hyunjin nods. “They’re already walking through the gallery. Feel free to join them. I’ve got to hang out here to greet people for another twenty minutes.”

“Should we head in then, hyung?”

Minho finds he and Hyunjin are talking over each other to agree, causing Jeongin to laugh

“We’ll see you inside later, Hyunjin-ah?”

“Of course. And we’re going out to celebrate after, don’t forget.”

How could Minho have forgotten? He’d had to taste test a cake Felix had made the other day in preparation for this very event. They’d both agreed that it needed a little more vanilla, and less sugar in the frosting. Otherwise, it was a perfect buttered almond cake, vanilla sponge layered with custard and a light icing with slivered almonds.

“Never! You deserve to be celebrated. I’ve really been looking forward to seeing your exhibit. You never show me anything while you’re working on it,” Jeongin reassures.

“I never show anyone what I’m working on.”

A falsehood that Minho won’t call attention to if an earlier mention of Jisung had Hyunjin scowling. Minho has been told by a preening and proud Jisung of the few times he’s been allowed to see inside Hyunjin’s studio. Jisung has regaled him with how Hyunjin would bite his lip nervously and run his fingers through his hair while waiting for Jisung’s affirmations of his talent. The two of them really need to get their shit together.

Minho doesn’t know much about art. He is unaware of the various techniques involved in the different painting styles or mediums. Colour theory isn’t something he’s ever studied. He appreciates art for the emotions it evokes or the story it tells, much like he imagines anyone who doesn’t dance appreciates one of his performances. Without knowledge of the technical aspects or the difficulties, but only seeing what catches the eye and inspires.

Jeongin experiences art through a similar lens, which has them moving through the gallery at a moderate speed. They trade comments about what impacts them, a splash of colour, the definition of contours, or the emotive expression of a piece, but it’s not an in-depth conversation. It doesn’t rival the overheard bits and pieces which reach them from Jisung and the person at his side.

“The subtle shading in this bottom corner is wonderful. It conceals or distorts the reflection of the flowers in the vase perfectly. I wonder if the artist would be willing to discuss their brush strokes.” Lifting her hand from where it was resting on Jisung’s forearm, his companion gestures to that part of the canvas. “You can see how the flowers appear to be alive in the image, where they’re limp and dying in the vase.”

“You could ask Hyunjin,” Jisung is quick to suggest, “he’d be pleased you caught that detail. I didn’t see it myself when I saw it while it was still drying. Which is why I think he added more details to the flowers themselves, the fallen petal laying on the table specifically.”

Minho tries to keep a smooth expression as Jeongin looks at him and hisses quietly, “He lied to us!”

“Hmm.”

Jeongin peers at him a moment longer. “And you already knew he’d lied.”

“I wasn’t about to bring Jisung up when Hyunjin already scowled at you for doing so.” Minho temporises, “Shall we go introduce ourselves?”

Minho hopes Jeongin remembers that Hyunjin was the one who lied as he follows the younger who stalks over to greet Jisung and his guest.

Jisung sees them coming, and the broad smile on his face seems to bleed the tension from Jeongin’s shoulders as Minho stands beside him. “Minho-hyung, Jeongin-ah, glad to see you.” Jisung turns to his date. “Minji-noona, these two are likely the last people I’ll be able to introduce you to. I doubt I’ll recognize anyone else. They’re both old school friends.”

Jeongin grins as he steps forward and inclines his head respectfully. “That’s not even a very good introduction, hyung. I’m Jeongin. Pleasure to meet you, Minji-ssi.”

Minho arches a brow and forces himself to keep his face otherwise blank. While Minji is focused on Jeongin, he mouths the word ‘noona’ at Jisung and feels rather smug when Jisung glares at him. Though he would never mention that old song Jisung made in first year which he’d sworn was amazing and forced Minho to listen to, it is still too much fun to tease him about it.

“Do you have much interest in art, Jeongin-ssi?” Minji’s voice is a pleasant alto, her tone soft and fuzzy with comfort. Minho imagines her scent would likely follow suit, something neutral, but light, an everyday scent. Perhaps milk tea or aloe vera.

“No, not really. I admire it, and I think it’s beautiful and can speak to many people, but I have no talent with it. Nothing like Hyunjin-hyung.” Jeongin’s cordial. He’s good at making small talk and being friendly with strangers. “I’m better with music.”

“You should hear him play the piano,” Jisung adds to the conversation, “especially if he decides to sing along.”

As Jeongin blushes, Minho decides to introduce himself, “I’m Minho, and also not well versed in art, unless you count Juremi.”

Jisung laughs a little louder than Minho had expected, but it’s the further darkening of Jeongin’s blush that catches Minho’s attention as Minji asks for clarification, “Jureumi?”

“It’s this wrinkle faced caricature that Minho’s been drawing for as long as we’ve known him.” Jisung smothers his laughter to answer. “It may almost be his signature.”

“How about you, Minji-ssi? You seem to know something about art,” Jeongin asks.

“I took a few art history classes as electives when I was studying. I can’t draw a straight line, but I can tell the difference between brush techniques and mediums.”

“Hyunjin can’t draw a straight line either. He says that’s what rulers are for,” Jisung’s quick to comment.

Minho can see signs of Jisung’s nervousness, the quick comments, and his laughter seems almost performative, as if he’s struggling to be social. Perhaps there’s something Minho can do to help take the edge off the evening for him. “Shall we walk through the gallery with you? We can benefit from Minji-ssi’s commentary.”

Though Minji smiles, Minho doesn’t know how genuine her expression is. “I’m not sure how much you’ll benefit, but that sounds good.”

As they tour the rest of the exhibit, Minho decides the smile was genuine, as was Minji’s concern about the value of her assessment of Hyunjin’s pieces. He can understand that it could be a daunting task to evaluate or find something to say about the work of an artist to his friends, especially when they’ve come along to the event as a date. It also likely doesn’t help Minji’s nerves to have Jisung relate Hyunjin’s intentions for the piece they’re viewing after she’s spoken, especially when neither Minho, nor Jeongin, have anything to add on that front. It’s painfully evident how close Jisung and Hyunjin are from Jisung’s comments describing the inner thoughts of the artist. Minho doesn’t envy Minji if she’d accepted this date thinking she had any chance of being with Jisung.

The section at the start of the exhibit was full of flowers, some in vases on desks, others in fields, or laying discarded on a road. The last section was more abstract, people, or parts of people, arms, legs, hands, all in various colours as they seemed to be reaching for something, or struggling in some way. Minho isn’t sure how to properly describe what he saw, but Minji had commented about the use of colour, and how there were parallel pieces between the two sections, in the hues, but also in the framing or in the staging of the focus of the piece. While Minho can see her perspective, he’s not certain if that was what Hyunjin had planned, or if he’d just been set with the same paints and hadn’t made a trip to the art store. From what Minji said, it seems intentional, and it likely was. Hyunjin’s come a long way from afternoons spent on the university lawn between buildings sketching whatever caught his eye.

They find Chan, Changbin, Yongbok and Seungmin in the large room at the end of the gallery when they’re done viewing Hyunjin’s artwork. In the post show space, staff are moving about with drinks and small appetisers. Around the room, there’s framed articles of past exhibits, and articles. On the far wall, a subtitled video is projected, showing clips of Hyunjin progressing through his artistic process, and providing details about his intentions for his art. 

With Minji present, the talk is small, and the teasing they might otherwise indulge in is subdued. They stick to catching up and sharing recent stories. Changbin diverts Seungmin’s interest in riling Jisung up by trying to get Seungmin to commit to coming into their studio to record some guide tracks for their newer songs. 

Jisung seems almost too eager to accompany Minho when he announces he’s heading to the bar to get Jeongin some water to drink as only alcohol seems to be making the rounds  as the staff circumnavigate the room.

“So, what do you think?” Jisung’s voice is hushed as they make their way across the room.

“I’m thinking you still haven’t talked to Hyunjin.”

Jisung sighs. “You’re not wrong, but…what do you think?”

“She seems nice,” Minho admits, “how did you two meet?”

“Friend of my sister-in-law. I said I was going to an art exhibit when she and hyung had us both over for dinner, and Minji kinda invited herself along.”

“Pushy?” Minho considers revising his neutral opinion about Minji.

“It wasn’t like that. Hyung’s the pushy one. I mentioned the exhibit, Minji mentioned she enjoys art, and while we were doing the dishes, hyung pointedly suggested I invite her and I couldn’t give him a good reason why I couldn’t.”

“Hyunjin wasn’t a good reason?”

Jisung whines, stalling a few feet away from the bar. “Not one hyung would have accepted. The way he sees it, if it hasn’t happened by now, it won’t, and I should cut ties and move on. Says it’d be better for me.”

Minho likely pats Jisung’s butt and moves towards the bar, “He’s probably right. You need to either act or let it go.”

Jisung’s thoughtful frown remains until they return to the group. Minji’s talking animatedly to Seungmin, while Yongbok has shifted over beside Jeongin. Chan and Changbin seem to have done what they often do when they all meet, which is talk about work and music unless they’re otherwise engaged.

“Doesn’t he look gorgeous?” Yongbok has taken Jeongin by the hands, and is looking around the rest of the group asking for their collective agreement. “Where did you get this dress?”

“My parents were briefly in town last weekend, so Eomma took me out shopping.” Jeongin is flushed, a hint of embarrassment. As long as Minho has known him, Jeongin has always shied away from being the centre of attention. “Did you know there are high fashion maternity clothing stores?”

“You’re pregnant?” Minji’s voice contains a wealth of joy and excitement. She glances away from Jeongin and meets Minho’s eyes. “Congratulations. You must be thrilled.”

It irks Minho that Minji’s first response is to congratulate him, rather than Jeongin. His eyes are drawn to Yongbok though, in case the words or their implication inadvertently sets him off.

While Jeongin’s blush deepens, his mouth hangs open while he says nothing, as if uncertain what it is he should say. Yongbok is trying not to laugh. 

To all their benefit, Chan is quick to step in and is often the case, his kindness as he explains the situation gives Minji just enough details to understand without making her feel ashamed of her incorrect perception. Minho doesn’t miss the concerned look Jeongin gives him when Minho struggles to keep his face stoic as Chan’s explanation covers both how Minho and Jeongin aren’t a couple and how Jeongin’s pup isn’t theirs.

As the conversation continues, Minho is left to stew on the thought that he’d been clueless to Jeongin’s parents having been in town, or the shopping trip. He should have questioned where Jeongin had gotten such a dress, because Minho hadn’t seen it before, but he also recognizes that where the dress came from was the last thing on his mind when he first saw Jeongin wearing it. He’s still doing his level best to not let his eyes stray where they would be unwise to settle.

Minho leans towards Jeongin when he notices him shifting weight from one foot to the other. “There’s chairs around the room, if you’d like to sit for a while. The gallery director should be making his speech soon and introducing Hyunjin. Then Hyunjin will talk for a bit before we’ll head out.”

Jeongin shakes his head. “It would be rude. No one else is sitting.”

“Hyunjin won’t think it’s rude. He’d berate the rest of us for not making you sit if your feet are sore.”

“My feet are fine.”

Minho lifts a brow and peers at him.

Jeongin pouts, looking disgruntled, which delights Minho. Jeongin being stubborn is attractively endearing. “Fine. We can sit for a while.”

Everyone moves over to the seats by the edge of the room with them, where they remain as the speeches are given. Hyunjin takes a while to settle into his speech, talking more comfortably and his posture relaxes. As the artist of the evening, he’s forced to hobnob about the room before he can make their way over to meet up with them to end the evening.

Things are awkward when Hyunjin joins them, not that anyone outside their friends would recognize just how strange the interactions are. Hyunjin doesn't repeat the error he’d made when they’d all attended the 3RACHA gig. He’s not fawning over Jisung. It’s almost the opposite, only looking at him if the polite conversation requires it. If Minji hadn’t been inundating him with questions about his art, Minho suspects Hyunjin wouldn’t have said a word to Jisung at all.

When Minho checks his watch, it’s later than he’d expected. Maybe there’s a way they can escape how strained this event has become. “Hyung, we have reservations, right?”

Chan nods. “Right, so we should probably head over.”

“Then this is where I’ll leave you to your celebrations.” Minji turns to Jisung. “Will you be able to get a ride home?”

Chan places his hand on Jisung’s shoulder. “We’ll see he gets home safely.”

“Let me walk you to your car,” Jisung offers.

“It was a pleasure to meet all of you. Hyunjin, if I end up working at the art magazine, I’ll get in touch.” Minji looks at Jisung shyly. “I really appreciate you inviting me to come. Being new to the city isn’t easy.”

“No, it isn’t,” Jisung agrees as he leads her away. “I remember my first days here after leaving Malaysia.”

Their voices trail off into the distance, and Hyunjin seems to relax, the further away Jisung becomes. Minho sighs. They’re idiots. He’s starting to think they should collectively just toss them into a room together, but they’d likely end up fucking rather than talking, which wouldn’t do anything to sort them out.

Turning to Jeongin, Minho offers him his hands to help him stand. “Let’s head over to the restaurant before we miss our reservation.”

After reclaiming their coats, their breaths frost the air as they make their way across the parking lot. Jeongin clings to Minho’s arm, while taking careful steps. With the rain earlier, and the chilly night, there’s bound to be some ice in their path. Minho pats Jeongin’s hand reassuringly. “No falling on the way to the car.”

Jeongin rolls his eyes. “You have more control over that than I do. No telling when I’ll Iyen again.”

Minho chuckles, “I’ll keep you steady, the car’s not far.”

The car warms as they drive to the restaurant and Jeongin yawns, made comfortable by the surrounding heat. “Hyung?”

“Mhmm.”

“I’m feeling pretty tired, do you think everyone would mind if you took me home?”

Shit. Neither he nor Yongbok had thought of that when they’d been planning the celebration. Maybe he can convince Jeongin to make an appearance. “Yongbok baked a cake.”

“You can go if you like, once you drop me off,” Jeongin suggests, turning his face to the window while Minho can hear him yawn again. “You can bring me back a piece.”

“He made your favourite cake.”

Minho knows he’s erred when Jeongin shifts and looks back at him suspiciously. “Why would he make my favourite cake when we’re celebrating Hyunjin’s opening?”

“Hyunjin likes that cake too.” Which is true, but it’s not Hyunjin’s favourite, and Minho already knows he didn’t sound as convincing as he’d need to in order to pass Jeongin’s litmus test for truth.

Jeongin’s eyes narrow. “We agreed not to celebrate my birthday this year. I told you all I didn’t want anything.”

At the red light, Minho looks over at him. “Will you really object to us showing how much we care for you and appreciate you?” As if it might help mitigate their transgression, Minho offers proof of the compromise they’d agreed on when planning this evening. “None of us bought you anything. No gifts. Just a cake, and warm wishes for your birthday.”

“Promise?” A glance to the side proves that Minho is correct. Jeongin is pouting.

“I promise.”

“Alright then, but not too late.”

“I’ll get you home right after the cake, baby boy,” Minho agrees. “The rest are thinking this will still be a surprise for you.”

“So you’re asking me to play along, hyung?”

“Hmm.”

Jeongin’s current yawn tapers off to a sigh. “Okay. It’ll be our secret.”

Minho likes the sound of that. A secret between them. Not because it’s a secret, but because it’s theirs.

Jeongin is looking forward to the end of the day. It’s been a long day, a longer week, and an even longer month with the preparations for the end of the school year recital. While each class he teaches has been perfecting their own performances well while in class, it’s the larger all class ensemble choir which he’d have referred to as herding cats, if he’d never met Soonie, Doongie and Dori. Young children are more difficult en masse than cats. Cats can be tempted with tuna or chicken or catnip. Children have a variety of likes and dislikes and as a group, no single thing could convince all of them to pay attention and behave.

He is exceedingly grateful that he allowed Beomgyu and Heesung to convince him to select a less challenging piece to perform as their choral ensemble. For as much as Jeongin might be one of the school’s favourite and most beloved teachers, the students were still between the ages of 8 and 12 and acted accordingly.

Jeongin is also grateful that he’s accompanying the choral ensemble by playing the piano, so he gets to sit for the longer after school practices while Beomgyu plays the guitar and Heesung is left trying to conduct and corral the choral efforts of the near 150 students from the various classes. His feet are sore from teaching alone. If he’d had to stand that much longer, he might have cried. He’d spent so much time hobbling around after his fall in December and he doesn’t want to have to rent another pair of crutches.

Both of his co-workers have grown to be good friends in the past couple years. While Jeongin hasn’t yet informed the school board that he’ll be taking a short parental leave in the spring, Beomgyu and Heesung are aware of his surrogate pregnancy, and they seem to enjoy teasing him regularly for the way in which his scent has changed over the past six months. First, with a hint of ocean and fudge, but more recently, with the mountain forest crispness that accompanies his scarf and sweaters he’s worn over the winter months. They both refer to Minho as Jeongin’s ‘favourite hyung’ as if it’s code for something more intimate, and if Jeongin protests, the teasing only seems to get worse.

It’s a comfort at the end of the day when Minho picks him up and takes him home. Even though Minho’s day must be as long as his, and likely more physically demanding, Jeongin finds himself sent off to change into more comfortable clothes before he’s manoeuvred to sit on the couch, his feet propped up on a pillow while Minho makes them both dinner.

Minho will let him help with cleaning up the dishes after dinner, but then they’re back on the couch, watching a show. Jeongin is snuggled into his corner, the soft but firm cushion of the couch supporting his back as Minho raises Jeongin’s legs into his lap and starts massaging his feet.

Jeongin is nurtured, he’s comfortable, and he knows he’s spoiled by Minho. They’re just friends, and Minho is treating him like this. It makes Jeongin wonder what Minho would do for someone he loves. It makes Jeongin wish that he could be someone Minho loves. Is that even something he’d be able to handle or accept? 

Already he feels overwhelmed by how careful and caring Minho is around him. Minho is attentive. If Jeongin asks for anything, Minho does his best to provide. He’d be afraid to ask for anything if Minho actually loved him. How driven would Minho be to fulfil his every request? It’s too much to ask of anyone, that sort of perfection.

And he wouldn’t ask for it. Jeongin would never want anyone, especially not Minho, to feel compelled to suit his needs that they set everything else aside. Jeongin knows Minho turned down a dancing job in Japan to stay with him. What more would Minho be willing to sacrifice? It’s too much. Minho didn’t even talk to him about it. Just said no and stayed. Jeongin would be an overly loved plant, smothered in attention, drowning in water.

It scares him. Even if Jeongin felt that he deserved that level of affection, he doesn’t want anyone to give up what matters to them. Love should be about communication, should be something that can be trusted and relationships are best maintained through compromise, not unspoken sacrifice.

Maybe that’s why none of his past relationships have worked out well. When he tries to talk about what worked, what didn’t and what he needed, most often it was implied that his needs were at most amusing and at worst irrelevant. There were always subtle, or not so hidden, comments about how a proper omega would act in a relationship, but it was never acceptable for the alpha to be the one to adjust to his needs. 

Jeongin knows why he started to acquiesce to the demands of his partners. He was getting older. No one is perfect. If he can accept just this one small thing, change just a little bit, then the relationship still works, right? He doesn’t have to keep trying to find someone he can be with if he can manage to make his current relationship work.

He has examples of healthy relationships. His parents work well together. His older brother’s marriage is harmonious. Felix and Chan make it look easy, even when they butt heads. But Jeongin doesn’t have Felix’s sunny and forgiving disposition. He’s not an easy or outgoing person. He doesn’t make friends quickly. When faced with the option to just let something go, or to modify himself a smidge, is it surprising that he’ll do so to hold on to a relationship?

“Hyung, do you think it’s possible to be unfaithful without cheating?”

Minho looks over at him and slowly blinks. It’s the way Jeongin knows he’s processing the question and if he waits, Minho will give him a thoughtful answer. “I think there’s a lot of ways someone could be unfaithful. Not all of them would involve cheating.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“Any particular reason?”

Jeongin nibbles on his lower lip. “I was thinking about the past, and how none of my relationships worked out. And I don’t think any of them were faithful to me. They never cheated, at least, not that I knew of. But they weren’t loyal to me. It was more like they enjoyed what I represented, rather than accepted me for who I actually am.”

“Then they never really saw you.” Minho’s expression turns wry. His hands which had been kneading at the bottom of Jeongin’s feet flatten and soothe the soles instead. “They should get their eyes checked.”

Jeongin’s tone goes bland, “Absolutely. If they can’t see the gangly, clumsy omega in front of them, then they really should.”

Minho grips his big toe between his thumb and index finger, giving it a stern shake. Jeongin can’t take his eyes away from the way the muscles move under Minho’s skin, the veins in stark relief. “You’re not allowed to talk about my friend this way.”

“I can talk about myself anyway I like.”

“No.”

“Hyung, even you complain about how clumsy I am.”

Minho shakes his toe again. “No. I don’t complain. I plan and anticipate. I realise you’re likely to spill or break things and I compensate.”

“I think that might be worse.” Jeongin’s bottom lip trembles as he pouts.

Minho’s brow arches. “I think that makes me better than any alpha you’ve ever dated. I see you. I don’t ask you to change for me. I accommodate.“

Jeongin’s pout morphs into a frown. “Doesn’t that mean you’re changing for me? I don’t see how that’s any better, hyung.” He’ll just ignore the implications of what Minho said. It’s not as if Minho would consider having a relationship with him, or be his alpha.

“But I haven’t changed?” Minho’s hands release Jeongin’s foot and he lays them on his calf. “Unless you think I’m not attentive or considerate.”

“You are!” Jeongin’s quick to agree, because he can see from Minho’s stoic expression that any other response would hurt him. It’s also a truth he must support. When he thinks of all the ways in which Minho has been thoughtful and compassionate, it throws into stark relief just how poorly any alpha he’s ever dated has measured up. Gifts of jewellery, flowers and candy may be expensive, but certainly aren’t expressive of any real thought given to whether or not Jeongin would like them. Typical dates of romantic movies or restaurant meals. There’s a twinge in his chest as he realises his closest friend, his favourite hyung, has done better than anyone he’s ever dated. It worsens when he thinks how unlikely that is to change. His voice is softer, but more sure when he speaks again, “You are, hyung. And you’re right, you didn’t need to change at all.”

The stoic expression flees as Minho gives him a firm closed mouth smile as his ears flare with heat. “Right.”

Jeongin nudges Minho’s thigh with his toes. “Don’t ever feel like you need to change for someone else either.”

As Minho looks away, Jeongin sees the blush spread down the back of Minho’s neck, and Jeongin feels giddy with his ability to fluster him.

“I wouldn’t think of it. How could I keep being your favourite hyung if I were to change, hmm?”

Jeongin rolls his eyes, even as he feels his cheeks redden. “Can we watch the next episode now?”

Minho just chuckles as he presses play on the remote.

When Jeongin invited Minho to attend the year end recital, Minho hadn’t been sure he’d be able to make it. With Jonggyu and Vata in Japan, the rest of the instructors had to pick up additional classes and pitch in. Given how busy that had made him with the extra course load, he’s almost glad he didn’t go as well. He wouldn’t want the rest of the team to suffer even more than they already are. 

Originally, his plan was to stick with the classes he’d been assigned and sneak into the school auditorium as soon as he was able, but Redy had a family event spontaneously thrown her way and needed to switch a class. Minho would be up earlier than he’d like on a Saturday, but he’d been able to swap classes and arrive at the school on time.

He’d even managed to stop by the apartment long enough to put on a pair of trousers, paired with a button up shirt and pullover. A rushed  pitstop at the local florist meant he’d arrived with flowers. Though, the bouquet was nothing as special as what Jeongin had given him. Minho had recognized many of the flowers from hikes he’d taken in the mountains, and the wildness of those flowers. He’d appreciated them more than any rose or lily, though he’d never mention that to Chan. Not that he’d have to. Minho’s certain that Chan already knows any flower given to him by Jeongin is going to mean more to him than any other flower.

He knows Chan already suspects something is going on. Or at least, that Minho’s feelings towards Jeongin have shifted. Minho knows he’s not exactly subtle when it comes to how he responds to Jeongin or how he cares for him. While he’s not known for outward displays of affection, he recognises how he’s both gentle and soft when it comes to Jeongin, and Chan isn’t blind. The way Chan looked at him during their Christmas celebration made that clear.

Minho steps through the auditorium doors just before the recital is about to start. As much as he’d like to find a chair near the stage to sit in, he’s not about to take the privilege away from any parent who has a child performing. It’ll be enough for him to be able to lean against a wall, near where the piano is set up so he can watch Jeongin play.

His expectation is that the children will perform music about as well as any of his students of the same age will dance. He’s not not wrong, though he’s left wondering which of his senses are better to have left disappointed; his eyes which will catch each misstep, or his ears which attempt to ignore every note off pitch or instrument poorly played. Regardless, he knows that if one of the students on stage was his, he’d be proudly clapping, like any other parent attending that evening.

Most of his focus remains on Jeongin, as he sits on the piano bench, his long fingers poised over the keys. Watching Jeongin play is something he’s been able to enjoy more over the last few months. It fills his heart with warmth, to see Jeongin’s hands move over the keyboard, the precision and accuracy with which they play the notes, and the expression upon his face. It is a marvel to behold someone do something they love. For as long as he’s known Jeongin, music has been a part of his life.

Perhaps this explains the way Jeongin would swing by the dance rooms on campus the last year Minho attended university. Jeongin would sit on the floor and watch Minho dance for the last half hour he had booked the room. Then they’d go and get americanos and make their way to the bus stop so they could head their separate ways home. Jeongin said the dance studios were on the way off campus, and the bus schedule would have him waiting anyway, but Minho knows Jeongin could have studied for that half hour, or found something else to do. Minho also knows he always worked that much harder for the half hour Jeongin was there than he did in the hour before he arrived.

Watching Jeongin play now isn’t exactly the same as it is when they’re in Jeongin’s apartment. The piano is further away and Minho can’t see Jeongin’s hands upon the keys. He can see Jeongin’s smile, and the way his body sways towards the piano as he plays, his arms lifting to reposition over different parts of the keyboard. The gentle lift of his hand as he swiftly turns the pages of the music score before he continues to play.

When the piece is over, Jeongin stands up from the piano, facing his students so he can smile at them. He lifts his hands, clapping in small movements, almost seal-like. Beomgyu stands near him, resting his guitar against his stool and claps as well. When he sees Minho, he steps closer to Jeongin and nudges him with his shoulder and leans down to tell him something. Minho’s not certain what was said, but Jeongin’s now looking over at him, appearing flustered. Moments later, when the auditorium lights turn on, Minho sees the pink stain across Jeongin’s sharp cheekbones.

Children make the way from the stage to find their parents. Some take the time to greet the teachers before leaving. Jeongin basks under the attention of his students, smiling widely and though Minho can’t hear him, he knows Jeongin is praising each of them by the way the children shyly return his smiles.

It’s almost an hour later when Jeongin is finally free. The auditorium is empty of parents and students. Only the teachers remain. They’re up on the stage, where Heesung and Beomgyu are stacking chairs and Jeongin is collecting all the sheet music from the stands. 

Heesung takes the last stack of papers from Jeongin and then turns him about and gives him a nudge towards the stage stairs. “Go head and head out. Not like we’re going to let you help us pick up and move things anyway.”

“I can help move some chairs and stands,” Minho offers, climbing the stairs to the stage and hands off the flowers to Jeongin. “I don’t mind helping while Jeongin rests.”

Jeongin looks torn between enjoying his flowers and finding somewhere to set them down so he can still help until Heesung leads him over to the piano bench and gets him to sit down.

Meanwhile, Beomgyu had taken advantage of Minho’s offer, showing him where the chairs are stacked on rolling carts. The music stands are collapsed and placed in a cupboard off stage. Between the three of them, it doesn’t take long to take down all the equipment and they’re ready to go.

“–smells so good, Jeongin-ah, that friend of yours.” Jeongin catches Minho’s eyes over Heesung’s shoulder. He blushes as Heesung continues to talk, oblivious to Minho’s approach. “Is he still single? I mean, if you’re–” Heesung bristles and steps back with a yelp. “What was that for?”

Jeongin stands up, and Minho can see the way he glares at his friend before he lifts his face and smiles. This isn’t Jeongin’s normal smile, but the one he pulls on his face to cover discomfort. “Are we ready to go, Minho-hyung?”

There’s tension in Jeongin’s posture and colour in his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Heesung turns around and sees Minho before he turns back to Jeongin, and mouths ‘Sorry’ before he walks away.

Knowing there’s nothing he can do to really help the situation other than pretending it never happened, Minho clears his throat. “I’m ready. Let’s get our coats and we can head out.”

Closing the car door behind him, Minho turns to Jeongin, already nestled into the passenger seat. “Are you hungry? Can I take you out to dinner?”

“I’m always hungry!” Jeongin says quickly, in a style familiar to them both, sounding like a protesting Changbin.They share a quiet chuckle as Minho starts the car and starts driving.

His mind is still processing Heesung’s words earlier, wondering what he might have said if Jeongin hadn’t intervened by poking or pinching his friend. Was Jeongin objecting to his friend finding Minho attractive, or was Heesung about to say something that Jeongin didn’t want him to hear?

As he’s pulling into the parking lot of Park’s Joomak Banjum, Jeongin’s sharp inhale has Minho glancing at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jeongin states quickly, though he’s now nibbling at his bottom lip.

“You sure?” Minho pulls the car into a spot and puts it in park, but he doesn’t turn off the engine yet. “If you need to go home, or would rather eat somewhere else, we can. I just remember you enjoyed eating here.”

“I did. I do…” Jeongin’s voice trails off and he bites his lower lip again before he sighs. “I haven’t been here since Daehyun and I celebrated our anniversary.”

“Oh.” Minho reaches to put the car in reverse, prepared to head elsewhere, but Jeongin’s hand covers his, so he hesitates.

“It just surprised me. I didn’t think I’d ever come back here,” Jeongin explains with a nervous smile, “but the food is good, the servers are friendly and I think rather than never coming here again, I’d rather make better memories and enjoy being here again.”

Minho nods and moves his hand to turn off the car instead. “That sounds like a great idea. Don’t let anyone take anything from you that you enjoy, Iyen-ah.”

He doesn’t remember what they ordered. Minho doesn’t even taste any of the food, though he knows he ate it. All he can remember is the way Jeongin smiled, bravely at first, determined to set aside older disappointments. Throughout the meal, Minho ensured the best pieces landed on Jeongin’s plate. He asked questions about the performances, and the students while Jeongin shared his favourite moments and the smile grew brighter, settled in the present. 

What he remembers from that night is when he dropped Jeongin off at his apartment door, Jeongin turned to him, wrapped his arms around Minho’s waist and leaned in to inhale Minho’s scent as he brushed his nose against Minho’s neck. The exhaled breath feathered across Minho’s skin as Jeongin spoke, “Thank you, hyung.” 

Even with Jeongin’s head ducked as he turned to quickly enter his apartment, the flush on his cheeks and the deep imprint of his dimples could be seen as far from as far away as Gimpo.

Chapter Text

When he walks into his apartment to see Minho already in the kitchen working on making dinner, Jeongin is filled with relief and gratitude. It has been a shit day. Knowing it is Wednesday, and that means a quiet evening with his favourite hyung, having dinner and watching a movie where Minho would rub his sore feet and legs has been the saving grace of a day which now seems to have been spawned in hell. He needs the comfort of routine and Minho is a reliable touchstone with Wednesdays being a time to relax while the rest of the world goes on without them.

The door swings shut behind him, louder than he usually lets it close and he kicks off his shoes While his laces were snugly tied that morning, he’s been on his feet most of the day. Jeongin struggles to pry them off his now bloated feet, knowing that without the compression stockings Minho had provided it would be even worse. Biting his lip, he leans against the wall and yanks his feet free. One after another, the shoes fly free.They clatter against the wall, his strength fueled by fury and tears. Minho turns to face him, and the smile on his face lasts two seconds before he blinks and asks softly, “Baby boy, what’s wrong?”

Jeongin rubs at his face as he slumps his way over to the couch, one hand upon his lower back. “I was ambushed this morning by the principal and some of the parents.”

Minho detours into the kitchen. Jeongin can hear him moving a pot and pan on the stove, and then he’s back, settling down on the couch beside him. “Ambushed?”

Jeongin sighs and lets his head fall back, resting on the top of the couch. His eyes focus on the ceiling as his fingers interlock to cradle his stomach. “The parents wanted to raise their objections to an unmated pregnant omega teaching their children. They didn’t come right out and call me promiscuous, but they may as well have.” His eyes close and his tone shifts, haughty and higher pitched. “‘What are our children learning about proper behaviour when Mr. Yang is their teacher?’” His voice becomes more nasal. “‘Not married, not mated, and yet pregnant. Is this the role model this school is providing for its students?’” Jeongin sighs and looks over at Minho, his voice returning to normal, though heavy with exhaustion. “And that was just the start of it.”

“I hope you told them that your private life was none of their concern,” Minho states as he takes Jeongin’s hand in his own and slides closer to him.

“I can’t. They’re right that teachers are role models, and children, especially young children, are impressionable. Besides, they weren’t asking for my response, or my reasons. They were there to seek my resignation, or to pressure the principal to force me to give it.” Jeongin feels the anger welling up again, and he closes his eyes, knowing the frustration is likely to have him crying again. He is tired of feeling so overwhelmed by this entire experience.

Minho tugs at the hand he holds, and when Jeongin shifts willingly closer, he manoeuvres Jeongin to sit in his lap and wraps his arms around him. His hand presses to Jeongin’s cheek, resting the Jeongin’s head against his shoulder. “Iyen-ah,” his tone is full of compassion and warmth, and Jeongin feels the tears slip through his lashes anyway. “I’m so sorry.”

Jeongin clings to him as he cries. He hates feeling so powerless and he doesn’t know what to do about the situation, but he is glad that Minho hasn’t tried to say everything would be alright, or tried to make suggestions or offer advice. He doesn’t need this fixed right now. He needs to be held, and consoled so he can sort out how he feels about the situation. He spent the day in a cycle between being frustrated, infuriated, and upset. He’s emotionally fatigued.

Sniffing back his tears, he lifts his head to wipe his eyes, only to find Minho’s hand already there, cupping his cheek with his thumb brushing the dampness from his skin. “The principal was able to calm the parents down and have them leave. Then he pulled me into his office so I could explain. If I worked in a public school, I could have told him my private life is my own, and they had no cause to ask me to explain anything, but this is a prestigious private school, and with the tuition the parents pay, they can bully the school into doing whatever they want.”

Minho spits out a curse, “None of us even considered this might happen to you.”

“No, of course not. The world is supposed to be more enlightened now,” Jeongin snorts in derision. “Why would we ever think the worst of people? Or that society is still so closed minded?”

Minho’s arms tighten around him, pressing Jeongin to his chest where his crisp scent of dew in a forest helps to calm him. Jeongin sniffles and sighs, letting himself relax upon Minho’s lap. He shivers as he feels the press of lips against his hair. “However it is you want to deal with this, you know I’m right there beside you.”

“I don’t know. I’m not even sure if I’ll have to do anything else. The principal was understanding, and seemed to support me. He’s going to discuss it with the school’s lawyer and have a response drafted for the parents that he’ll let me look at before it’s sent out.” He huffs out an exhale. “I don’t want to think about this any more tonight. I’ve been so angry and upset and now I’m just exhausted, but still can’t seem to let this go.”

Minho’s hand rubs soothing circles over Jeongin’s back. “How about this? Go have a long warm shower and get into your comfiest sleep clothes. I’ll finish making dinner, we’ll eat. I’ll steep you some tea afterwards, and we can still watch something silly. I’ll rub your feet while you’ve got the warming pad on your back, and then I’ll tuck you into bed for the night. That sound like a plan, baby boy?”

“Hmm.” Jeongin nuzzles his cheek against Minho’s scent gland. “That sounds like the best plan ever, hyung.”

Minho tucks his anger away. He doesn’t have the right to be furious when Jeongin is seeking a way to find calm. It won’t help. No amount of ire on his part should exceed that of Jeongin. It isn’t his place to act, or react, to what had happened. At least, not without Jeongin’s knowledge and approval. 

As much as it outrages Minho to hear of the events, his feelings shouldn’t take precedence. Even if he were Jeongin’s mate, it still wouldn’t be his place. It would be overreaching, and the worst way in which he could ever belittle someone he’d made such a commitment to. He never wants to take away anyone’s agency.

While Jeongin takes his warm shower, Minho takes his rage out on some unfortunate vegetables. They aren’t a great stand-in for the prejudiced and judgmental parents Jeongin had dealt with that day, but Minho can’t recall the last time he’s so finely made matchstick carrots. The mushrooms are thin enough that they’d fry up in seconds. Nevermind the sliced onions, which are nearly transparent.

Minho ensures the rice cooker is running, and when he can no longer hear the shower going, he starts cooking all the paper thin vegetables and beef. Once Jeongin wanders back into the kitchen in his chequered flannel sleep pants and a familiar oversized long sleeved shirt, Minho is scooping rice into pre-warmed stone bowls. He gestures for him to go sit at the table while he tops the rice with the carrots, mushrooms, beef, spinach and quickly fries an egg to place on top. He has to cook the egg yolk through, which is a shame, but it’ll still taste good. He sets the bowls on the table and takes his own seat next to Jeongin. He brings in a separate dish with the gochujang sauce, knowing that Jeongin’s usually high spice tolerance has changed of late.

“Bibimbap is good comfort food,” Minho declares. 

Jeongin shares a tired smile with him. “Thank you, hyung.”

Dinner is a quiet affair. Minho doesn’t know what to say or what to talk about. He feels that Jeongin is done talking about what had happened and doesn’t want to dwell on it, but that doesn’t mean he wants to hear about Minho’s day. Not that his day has been any different from most of his days. He worked on choreography and taught an advanced hip hop class. Once he’d got home, he’d spent time playing with Soonie, Doongie and Dori before feeding them like a good cat butler, and then headed upstairs and let himself into Jeongin’s apartment to prepare for their usual Wednesday dinner and show. Even if Jeongin wants to have his thoughts side-tracked, none of what Minho had done is particularly diverting.

He laughs when Jeongin, having finished his food, lets his chopsticks rattle in the bowl as he pushes it away and then slumps in his chair. His hands rest over the baby bump as he smiles, eyes closed and dimples out in full force. His words are a lazy slur, “So good, hyung.”

Anyone would be endeared looking at him. Minho considers dinner a successful good start to getting Jeongin to forget about the rest of his day. “How about you go sit on the couch? I’ll get the warming pad for you, and you can find something to watch while I sort out the dishes, hmm?”

“Yeah, hyung. I like this plan.” Jeongin wiggles back to a seated position, then pushes his chair from the table before he takes a deep breath and braces himself to rise from the chair, one hand at his back. 

Minho watches him waddle over to the couch. It isn’t quite a penguin waddle, not yet, but he expects that Jeongin will get there in the upcoming months. It’s cute. Not that he’ll ever say it out loud. Jeongin likely doesn’t want to be waddling. Rather than making any further comments, Minho sets up the heating pad as promised and hands Jeongin the remote control before quickly cleaning up after dinner.

When Minho joins Jeongin on the couch, he pulls those cute omega feet onto his lap. “Find something to watch?”

Minho only means to glance at him, but the way in which Jeongin appears anxious, looking down at his hands clenched on the remote control and nibbling on his lower lip has Minho’s gaze locked. He has a duty to Chan. He promised to help care for Jeongin while he is pregnant, but he knows this isn’t all that this is. The way he’d been angry on Jeongin’s behalf, the way his heart clenched as if trying not to break watching Jeongin try to remain strong, and the way he wants to wrap Jeongin in the softest blanket and put him safely in his pocket has nothing to do with that promise he’d made. 

“Baby boy, we can watch whatever you want. If you can’t decide, I could find something for you. Just tell me what you need,” Minho offers, voice soft and soothing, with none of his usual playful banter or sarcastic quip.  

Jeongin looks up at him. If the scent of still rising bread is indicative of his mood, Jeongin is still feeling uncertain. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

Minho starts rubbing at one of the feet laying in his lap and he smiles. “You know I don’t make promises I can’t keep, but I won’t be mean about it.”

Jeongin frowns, but he still pointed the remote at the television and pressed the buttons to start the program he’d selected. Minho isn’t watching the screen. His focus is on Jeongin, so he doesn’t clue in immediately to Jeongin’s choice. It takes a few bars of the theme song for Minho to clue in, and then he is laughing, head back and high pitched with it. Jeongin kicks at his thigh with a disgruntled groan and lifts the remote again. Quickly, Minho steals away the remote and then catches Jeongin’s foot before his thigh becomes a mottled black and blue. “This is perfect. I haven’t watched this in ages. Not since it first aired. Best choice.”

Jeongin still frowns as he looks at Minho, as if inspecting his expression to determine if he’s being truthful and then Jeongin huffs and settles back into the couch and quits trying to pull his foot out of Minho’s grasp. His tone is still perturbed with a hint of whine, his lower lip a pronounced pout. “I like cartoons.”

Patting his calf consolingly, Minho moves to rub at his feet again. Jeongin’s feet, like his hands, are too big to be considered cute, but the socks are adorned with adorable little foxes. “So do I.”

A few episodes play while Jeongin watches and his scent eases into its baseline warm fresh bread. Minho feels a weight  lift from his chest as he rubs at Jeongin’s feet and feels the way in which he relaxes and lets the earlier worries and concerns melt away, at least for the time being. Minho knows they’ll be present again tomorrow, and remain until the school is able to put out an announcement which he can only hope will appease the overwrought and contentious parents. 

After Jeongin yawns for the third time, Minho turns off the television at the end of the episode and pats the calves still laying over his thighs. “Let’s tuck you in. Go to the bathroom, brush your teeth, wash your face, and I’ll turn down the sheets for you.”

Jeongin pokes at Minho with his toes before he turns to get up from the couch. “Bossy alpha.”

Minho gives Jeongin’s ass a light slap and watches as he scoots a little further away. “That’s the best you could come up with?”

The reply is almost unintelligible around a yawn. “I’m twierd. Gib me a bweak.”

Folding the blanket before laying it over the back of the couch again, Minho just shakes his head. Hearing the bathroom door close, he moves to the bedroom and turns down the duvet and sheet before beating the pillows into fluffy submission.

Jeongin emerges from the bathroom. His hair on the right side is pressed up and flattened from having dried while resting against the couch after his shower and his eyes are almost closed with exhaustion, but his cheeks are dimpled with a small smile. His hand rises lazily to cover a yawn that is mostly finished by the time his hand is over his lips. Minho is terribly fond of this tired and lightly mussed omega. “In you go. Safe and warm.”

Jeongin only nods in reply before he manages his way into bed, with not as much ease or grace as he would have months ago. As Minho is lowering the covers to tuck them around him, Jeongin catches his wrist. He utters only one word, and it seems small and vulnerable to Minho’s ear. “Stay.”

Minho stills. His eyes close and he breathes in slowly, letting the air expand his chest. It doesn’t help him feel grounded as he had hoped, his lungs laced with the scent of sweet bread, cooling and almost ready to be glazed. He knows he’ll sound rough, raw, so he keeps his voice low. “Yeah. I’ll stay.”

When Jeongin lets go of his wrist, he moves to the other side of the bed and lays down. Turning on his side, he slides along the mattress until Jeongin’s back is pressed to his chest. He lays his arm along Jeongin’s side. “Better?”

He can hear the pout in Jeongin’s words. “I wanted to be the big spoon.”

Minho chuckles, his hand skimming from Jeongin’s side to cover the swell beneath his sleep shirt. “Baby boy, right now you’re always a bigger spoon.”

He shifts to avoid the impending elbow Jeongin shoves at him.

“You’re horrible,” Jeongin proclaims with what sounds nothing like consternation and much more like affection.

“Did you expect anything else?” Minho is amused, and if it hadn’t been such an eventful day and if they hadn’t been settling down to sleep, he’d have tickled Jeongin until he laughed as freely as Minho would himself.

“No.” The single word sounds glum, slipping from lips Minho can imagine forming a moue, with a protruding lower lip. Jeongin’s larger hand moves to cover Minho’s, holding it in place.

Minho presses his smile against Jeongin’s shoulder blade. “Go to sleep.”

Jeongin wakes feeling groggy and overly warm. A heavy arm rests over his waist, and an ankle is hooked around his, keeping his leg pinned to the bed. He knows it’s the middle of the night, likely somewhere between two and five. That seems to be the peak time for him to feel the need to pee in the middle of the night as the pup abuses his bladder, dancing upon it as if summoning rain.

He’d been hesitant that first time to ask Minho to stay, but he’d also felt wretched enough, and Minho had seemed sympathetic, so Jeongin let himself open up and ask for what he wanted. A weakness, he knows. He’d been vigilant about his demands on Minho’s time and affection, but he was worn down, dejected, and Minho had been there for him. A flimsy excuse. He couldn’t deny his need to feel loved in that moment, even if that love wasn’t exactly as he wanted it to be.

It had taken him longer to fall asleep that night than he’d imagined it would. With Minho’s breath dancing along his shoulder, a warm hand curved over his swollen belly, he’d felt safe. Surrounded by care and affection. Riddled with guilt for having asked him to stay.

Jeongin doesn’t try to convince himself that Minho loves him. He knows why Minho is helping him out. Minho never makes a promise he doesn’t keep, and he’d promised Chan he’d aid Jeongin however he could while Jeongin was carrying his and Felix’s pup. Minho cares about him, Jeongin doesn’t question that. Minho loves him in the same way he loves all their friends. Minho is stalwart and loyal; once he decides someone is his friend, that is the way it is for life. He might take a while to understand, as he is enigmatic and reluctant to let others into his life, but once he does, they don’t escape.

Not that Jeongin wants to escape. He doesn’t. He’ll always admire and respect Minho. This hyung of his is everything he’s always believed an alpha could and should be. He’s never aspired to make Minho his. That seems too far a chasm to bridge. After all, Jeongin was far from a perfect omega and not at all what Minho deserves.

When they’d met, their age difference had seemed larger. Minho was handsome and graceful. Jeongin had been in braces, gangly with a new growth spurt, though even time hasn’t weaned him of his adolescent clumsiness. Even if Jeongin had wanted to confess, that willingness was tempered by the knowledge that Minho, like the rest of their friend group, still saw him as a younger brother to be pampered and protected. 

It wasn’t that they didn’t see him as an equal, but more that he was the forever maknae, and tucked quite irrevocably into that role.

Given all of that, and the belief that whatever attraction he had for Minho was nothing but a passing crush, kept Jeongin silent.

Besides, Minho had enough admirers that kept him busy, and eventually, Jeongin found admirers of his own.

Carefully, so as not to wake Minho, Jeongin shimmies his way out from under Minho's grasp and trudges his way to the bathroom. He closes the door, the illumination of the night light bright enough to allow him make his way to the toilet and sit down. As much as he’d rather stand, his pregnancy has progressed to the point where grasping and aiming his dick to allow him to pee with any accuracy is questionable, and he isn’t going to risk that at this hour of the morning.

Minho spending the night with him has become almost as regular a part of his life as the drives to and from work and the bento box lunches. While he wants to indulge his own whims and experience what it is like to be the focus of Minho’s attention and affection, he wonders if he will be able to recover from the loss of it once the pup is born.

There is an end to this. Chan and Felix will have their pup. Jeongin will return to his solitary life and Minho will return to his. They will be friends, because Jeongin would never willingly give up on their friendship and neither would Minho. They haven’t done anything that would destroy the relationship they’ve already established. Jeongin’s been careful not to put their closeness in jeopardy, but whatever they have after the birth won’t be this. 

It won’t be dinners with long evening cuddles and scenting and sharing a bed. It won’t be waking in the morning to find Minho curled around him, peaceful in his sleep. Nor will it be a cup of tea waiting for him when he emerges from the bedroom ready to face the day, with a breakfast set up at the table for him.

He’ll be returning to a cold and lonely bed, with substandard dinners he prepares for himself, purchased premade from the frozen section of the grocery store. He’ll be taking public transport again, and suffering through whatever cafeteria lunch is available that day if he doesn’t find the time to make something, or have leftovers from dinner the previous night. His life will feel so much more alone than it had before. His memory of the closeness he’s shared with Minho can’t be shed like afterbirth.

Even with regular Wednesday nights planned between them, there will remain a Minho sized hole in his life. The only question is, how long will he willingly, knowingly, indulge himself in something he knows he wouldn’t have if the present circumstances weren’t what they were? Jeongin couldn’t have engineered this more perfectly had he tried to obtain this particular result. He wouldn’t have wanted this in the first place. This masquerade of affection to promote his health and wellbeing for the growing pup is beneficial, and it was supposed to be Chan’s place in the original plan. This is a simulacrum of a relationship which will never be real. Minho was never meant to be his. This is just a fantasy.

For the health of the pup, Jeongin doesn’t really have a choice but to accept the situation, but that doesn’t mean he should leech it for everything he can. He knows if he asked, Minho would do anything he could to support him. He shouldn’t ask for more. He shouldn’t fuel this delusion. It will only be more wounding when this is all over. He doesn’t need to injure himself further.

Making his way back to the bedside, Jeongin can see Minho’s features in silvered light. Just a faint beam through the curtains where they don’t meet perfectly. His face holds none of the sharpness it has when he is awake and alert. All those edges seem smoothed, rounded, softened by sleep and darkness. Minho’s limbs are splayed upon the bed, relaxed and calm, rather than poised towards grace and movement. His mouth slightly parted with a growing pool of drool on the pillow. He is still beautiful. Minho could never be anything else.

With a sigh, Jeongin closes his eyes as he sinks back onto the bed, resting on his side. Perhaps it’s the dip in the mattress which causes Minho to roll towards him. There is the heavy warmth of Minho pressed against his back, the weight of an arm once again over his waist, and a small yet strong hand curving over his stomach. At the sleepy sound of contentment muffled as Minho presses his cheek against Jeongin’s shoulder, he bites his lower lip.

Jeongin feels the tears pooling behind his closed eyes, waiting to be shed. That he won’t be able to keep this scares him. This isn’t his to hold. Minho isn’t his, no matter how much he might yearn for this, it isn’t true. It will ruin him. There is no going back from this. Jeongin has already had too much of a taste to forget or pretend this never happened. Once experienced, he will always know what it is to be the focus of Minho’s devotion.

Hands clenched, Jeongin holds back a whimper. 

It has already ruined him. 

When Minho wakes in the morning, he no longer feels disoriented. It has been a little over a week, yet he’s become accustomed to sharing a bed with Jeongin. The lanky warmth nestled against his chest, the aroma of fresh bread, the small noises he makes while he dreams. 

Last night, Minho had a performance, giving Jeongin no reason to stay over. Unless he wanted to watch television with the cats, which he evidently didn't. The feline trio had become rather clingy with him since the pregnancy, maybe Jeongin needed the break. 

So, when Minho had returned to his own apartment, let himself in and distinctly felt the noticeable lack of Jeongin in his space. While the cats were pleased to have him home, curling about him while he lay in bed, it was not at all the same. It took Minho much longer to drift off than normal. Only when he curled himself around a spare pillow, much like he’d surround Jeongin, did he realise what was missing.

How has Jeongin become so integral to him that Minho no longer seems to know how to move through life without Jeongin’s presence?

The past seven months have been a revelation. He’d never perceived Jeongin as he does now. He hadn’t noticed how well their sharp edges fit together. Hadn’t recognised Jeongin as an omega, or attractive and desirable. Jeongin had just been Jeongin.

When Minho first met him, Jeongin was unpresented, long limbed and awkward with it, as if unfamiliar with the way in which his body worked. He’d had clunky glasses and an unfashionable haircut. His teeth had been in the process of being straightened with braces, on the cusp of teenager to adulthood. He was the youngest of their friends. The rest of them had an unspoken agreement that they would take care of Jeongin, protect him, and spoil him.

Even after all these years, Minho had still looked at him through that same lens. He saw Jeongin, the young friend. He had never seen Jeongin, the attractive omega.

If not for the last few months, watching Jeongin adapt to being pregnant and supporting him in the ways that a mate would, Minho wonders if he would ever have seen Jeongin for all of who he is.

Probably not. And what a shame that would have been. Jeongin deserves more than to be conceptually forever eighteen in Minho’s mind.

However, now that he has seen this side of Jeongin, and how well they complement each other, Minho can think of little else. What is he meant to do when this is over? Just go back to being friends, being his neighbour, his favourite hyung?

Is he meant to excise the affection which grows for Jeongin in his heart? Should he somehow manage to erase the way his body knows how they fit together in a comforting hug, in hands held with fingers interlaced, or how the press of Jeongin’s back feels against his chest? How is he to purge the tempting scent of fresh bread spread with apricot jam from his mind?

Minho doesn’t know if he can do that. Moreover, he’s certain that he doesn’t want to. He hadn’t realised that he would or could want Jeongin in his life in this way, but now he can’t imagine his life without him.

Having woken early, he’d fed the cats and headed downstairs, ready to make breakfast.

But as he stands in the doorway of Jeongin’s bedroom, Minho knows that now is not the time to discuss his feelings or their future. Jeongin has allowed him into his life because he needs the support which Chan had been meant to provide. It isn’t Felix’s fault, or Chan’s, but it happened anyway.

Why did Jeongin choose him? For convenience alone, it makes sense, but Jeongin should have thought past that and placed priority over his comfort and security. Minho believes Changbin or Seungmin could have been the better choice. They are both close friends, especially Seungmin, and Changbin has a way of making anyone near him feel comfortable and safe. While Minho made the offer to help when Chan first told him of the snag in their plan, Minho didn’t expect to be called upon. He remembers how his alpha had protested the idea of anyone else taking this role. He doesn’t regret volunteering. It isn’t as simple as that.

He didn’t expect the way in which this would shift his own life and priorities outside of the pregnancy. How is he meant to go back to the way in which he lived his life before? Dating people who never really understand him, or prove themselves incapable of handling the sharp edge of his tongue and recognise when he is teasing rather than serious? None of that is at all appealing. He’d much rather have all the rest of his days be those spent with Jeongin, as if the regular Wednesdays they plan can subsume the remaining days of the week as well.

It’s likely strange, the way in which he leans now against the door jam, watching as Jeongin sleeps. Those long fingers of his curl over the edge of the duvet. His bangs are untidy and hanging over his eyes. The way his body curves in on itself. His mouth slack as he snores lightly. Minho wants to crawl into that bed and curl himself against Jeongin’s back, pull his warm and pliant body against his own and relish the way in which their bodies fit snugly. 

Not that Minho would at this time. Jeongin deserves to rest, and without knowing how Jeongin feels, Minho won’t allow himself to take advantage.

But he knows this isn’t sustainable. He is here due to the promise he’d made Chan. He is a stand in, a substitute, not a true partner and not a real choice either. Just the best of the options Jeongin has at the moment. Though Minho doesn’t see himself as the best, it seems Jeongin does, for whatever reason.

It would be selfish of him to confess how his feelings have grown beyond platonic. He can’t speak of his affection for Jeongin, not when he’ll still be needed through the rest of the pregnancy. All Minho can do is try to not overstep and be what Jeongin needs for now. There is some hope that his actions will engender Jeongin to feel some fondness for him. That maybe when this is all done, perhaps Jeongin may come to see him in a different way as well.

Hope is so rarely something to which Minho allows himself to cling. He’s been disappointed frequently in the past. He’s found that action, rather than hope, tends to provide better results, but he can’t act now. He’ll just have to wait.

When Jeongin begins to stir, Minho leaves him to wake and starts making breakfast. Putting water to boil in the kettle is first. A morning starts properly with coffee, or herbal tea in Jeongin’s case at present, though Minho knows Jeongin has a preference for coffee usually.

The tea is steeping and Minho’s scrambling eggs, to which he’d add cut up tomatoes once the eggs are mostly cooked.

When Jeongin emerges from the bedroom, he looks mussed and still half asleep, his fists rubbing at his eyes as he shuffles into the kitchen. Jeongin slumps against Minho’s back, his scent of bread sweet this morning, as his arms wrap around Minho’s waist. At this point in Jeongin’s pregnancy, his belly presses against Minho’s hip, and it isn’t until Jeongin’s chest, softer now than before, rests against Minho’s shoulder blades that they reconnect.

“There’s tea on the counter for you.” Minho tries not to tense as Jeongin rests against him. This is new behaviour. Usually Jeongin will sit at the table and wait for Minho to finish cooking. Is there something going on that has Jeongin feeling clingy this morning? He rarely indulges in physical touch. Minho doesn’t want to ask if something is wrong, because that would imply something likely is. Perhaps Jeongin simply missed him last night, similar to how Minho had felt his lack. Instead, he lays one of his hands over Jeongin’s. “How are you feeling this morning?”

The arms about his waist tighten as Jeongin yawns. He inhales deeply and makes a contented murmur, “A little sore. I feel heavy, but I’m doing alright. Hungry.”

Minho isn’t about to trust a still sleepy Jeongin with carrying a fresh cup of hot tea. “How about you go sit at the table while I finish making breakfast. I’ll bring you your tea. It’s still hot, so be careful, hmm?”

The arms slip from around his waist and Minho hears the scuff of slippers against the floor as Jeongin moves to the table. Minho brings the tea over to the table, setting it in front of him. “There you go, baby boy.”

Jeongin smiles up at him, eyes half lidded. “Thanks hyung.”

Minho turns back to the stove to add the tomatoes to the scrambled eggs and puts the bread in the toaster. He takes a sip from his coffee. “Any plans for today?”

“I need to do some grading. Musical theory.” A yawn, the sound is stilted halfway through, likely by a delayed hand raised to Jeongin’s mouth.

“That sounds delightfully exciting,” Minho comments blandly. “I think I’ll go grocery shopping instead. Anything you want to eat next week?”

The mug rattles as it’s lifted from the table, followed by some exaggerated exhales to cool the tea, and some eventual sips. “Food. I think I want to eat food next week.”

“Brat,” Minho states with more fondness than he’d intended. “You’ll just have to eat what I give you then.”

“I usually do, hyung,” Jeongin quips back, though his tone seems off somehow. It isn’t as carefree as Minho’s come to expect when Jeongin responds to his teasing.

Jeongin does usually eat anything put in front of him though. He always seems to have a good appetite. Perhaps it comes from being the middle child, usually fending for himself at a family dinner. While the eldest takes what they want and the youngest is babied, the middle child has to eke out for themselves whatever they can.

Minho pulls the toast from the toaster, spreads some butter on it and sets the pieces of toast on a plate, cutting them diagonally. He splits the eggs and tomato between two bowls and brings everything over to the table before taking his own seat. He picks up his chopsticks, but waits for Jeongin to take a bite before he tucks himself into his own breakfast.

Jeongin stuffs more into his mouth than Minho had thought possible before he’d met him, and he still manages to chew and swallow without gagging or choking. It’s a talent, though not one Minho would ever praise him for.

They eat in silence. Minho thinks it’s comfortable, until he notices Jeongin has stopped eating and is pushing food around in his bowl. Again he wonders if something is wrong, but still doesn’t want to suggest something is wrong by asking. “Is there something else you’d rather have for breakfast, baby boy? There’s some leftovers in the fridge I could heat up for you.”

Jeongin blinks and looks over at Minho and shakes his head. “No, this is fine.” As if to emphasise his answer, he immediately takes another large bite. Though Minho doesn’t miss how once Jeongin swallows, he goes back to looking out the window and stirring the remaining food around his bowl again.

Either something is wrong, or Jeongin is distracted. Minho could continue to poke and prod him to try to get to the source, but Jeongin can be stubborn, and in the past, that technique hasn’t yielded good results. Just a flare of temper and obstinacy. Patience tends to work better.

When he is done eating, Minho rises from the table. He runs his hand over Jeongin’s hair. “Still eating?”

Minho picks up his own dishes while Jeongin returns from wherever his distracted thoughts seem to have taken him. “No, I’m done. Guess I wasn’t as hungry as I thought.”

“That’s alright.” He gathers Jeongin’s dishes as well and takes them into the kitchen and begins cleaning up.

Minho has just finished setting the last of the clean dishes in the dish rack and wet the cloth again so he can wipe the stove when he hears Jeongin sigh.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” Words, spoken quietly, but with a desperate despair which causes Minho to still. He can hear his own pulse in his ears, feel the thrum of his heart speeding up in his chest.

What does Jeongin mean by that? Was he still worried about teaching? Was the principal or the school not as supportive as Jeongin had said they’d be after the visit from the parents? Was it the pregnancy? 

Minho swallows harshly, filled with dread. He speaks slowly, tentatively. It occurs to him this is the same tone he uses when approaching stray cats. “What is it you can’t do, Jeongin?”

The legs of the chair screech against the floor and Minho flinches. He hears Jeongin rise with a grunt, and the chair is pushed back under the table, the cluck as the back of it hits the table’s edge. He can also sense Jeongin turning to look at him. The scent of stale and mouldy bread drifts into the kitchen. “I don’t want to play house anymore.”

For words uttered with careful tonelessness, they pierce Minho’s heart with the sharpest edge. His hands grip the counter. He watches his knuckles turn white as his pulse becomes so loud it is the only thing he hears. He clings to the promise he made to Chan, hoarding his scent to himself, knowing it is turning vile, the undergrowth of a forest dank and decaying in the dark. He can only imagine how hoarse his voice must sound as he tries to keep it steady. 

“No,” Minho whispers, “of course not.”

“You must be tired of this by now, Minho hyung.”

Jeongin’s words sound distant, muffled. Minho knows he can’t remain there in the Jeongin’s apartment. Not without falling apart. Not without declaring himself and offering to Jeongin a heart he obviously does not desire. Stiffly, he drops the cloth in the sink and turns away from the kitchen and Jeongin.

“Right.” He moves to leave. “I’ll just go. No need to pretend anymore.” His hand jitters and he struggles to open the door. “I’ll make sure you get a drive to school on Monday.”

He hears the pained gasp of his name behind him as the door finally opens and he flees.

Chapter Text

When even Soonie and Doongie have decided to avoid him and Dori is following him about, belly low to the ground, Minho knows his mood and scent must be foul. Only the youngest of his feline brothers has deigned to acknowledge him today. With regretful gratitude, Minho squats down and holds out his hand so Dori will approach and let himself be pet. It’s a faint solace that at least one of his cats wants him around. It’s not like anyone else in the apartment building does.

It’s for the best that he’s required to wear scent blockers at work. While he can keep his face placid, something expressionless that most recognize as normal for Minho, his scent would certainly cause both concern and complaints. He’s been told what he smells like when he’s unhappy. At present, he feels unconsolable.

He’d wanted to confess to Jeongin, once all this was done, and his duty to Chan was complete. When he was no longer under any obligation and Jeongin was free to make his own choices. He’d thought they’d be able to sit down and have a conversation about it. Minho could explain how he felt, as vulnerable that might make him, and have the opportunity to convince Jeongin of why he should be willing to give them a chance. That Jeongin could recognise that while Minho isn’t perfect, not the best alpha, that he would always try to be what Jeongin needed him to be. That he cared enough to work to make Jeongin happy and comfortable. That he’d strive to ensure that Jeongin never once questioned if his partner admired or adored him. Jeongin would know it daily, as clearly as he knew water was wet; a fact that was acknowledged innately and need never be questioned.

He would try to be a good partner. He always had in the past, even if he’d never measured up in the way that was expected. Minho had thought he and Jeongin worked well together. They seemed to be in sync, in tune with what each other needed. Jeongin understood him, knew his sense of humour, was never offended by the quirky or strange things he might say, and while Jeongin didn’t always know how Minho’s thoughts went from one thing to another, he always tried to follow along.

Minho had never had a shot.

Dori doesn’t complain when Minho picks him up and carries him over to the couch so he can sit down. The cat rests his paws on Minho’s shoulders, leans in and rubs the side of his head against Minho’s neck and the dulcet tones of his purr would usually improve Minho’s mood, having it turn on a dime. Not this time though. Minho’s not yet ready to be consoled.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to feel better, or put this behind him. It’s more that he’s not sure how. It took a pregnancy and daily contact with Jeongin for Minho to realise he’s in love with him, and perhaps has been for far longer than that. Having realised how deeply he cares for Jeongin, when he looks back, he’s unable to determine when and why his feelings changed.

Minho knows he’s always had a soft spot for Jeongin. He thought he was just trying to be a good hyung taking care of a dongsaeng. Making sure he’d eaten well, that he was getting enough rest, being good to himself, and giving him sound advice. 

Given that he can’t figure out what caused his feelings to shift, he’s not sure how to turn them off. How is he meant to move forward when he can’t even explain how he got to where he is now?

His fingers move over Dori’s fur as the cat’s purr continues to rumble against the side of his neck. It’s Friday night. He’s home from work. He’s not going anywhere. Minho isn’t even convinced he’ll find the energy to make dinner. There’s got to be leftovers in his fridge, maybe. If he feels hungry he can eat those. For now, sitting on the couch, petting Dori, and trying not to care about anything seems like a solid plan for the start of his weekend.

It’s been a long, exhausting week.

Having left Jeongin’s apartment, the words ‘I don’t want to play house anymore’ resounded in his thoughts. His mind became an echo chamber where that was all he could think or hear. He’d likely be seeing it too, if he’d been looking at Jeongin when the comment was made. Is it better or worse that he hadn’t seen Jeongin’s expression? That Minho hadn’t captured the disappointment and dismay in Jeongin’s features so he was spared the ability to focus on that image forever.

As much as he might have wanted to trick himself into believing that Jeongin was tired, just waking up and hormonal. It was possible Jeongin would change his mind and apologize for his hasty words, Minho wasn’t willing to rely on that. Jeongin was steady in his emotions, and pregnancy had only made those emotions more deeply felt, rather than causing any mood swings. Regardless, Minho didn’t want to dismiss Jeongin’s words as something said thoughtlessly. He would treat those words as genuine and sincere unless Jeongin informed him otherwise. 

Instead, he had to set aside his own pain and do what was right to take care of Jeongin and the pup.Which meant he needed to make arrangements to ensure that Jeongin was taken too and from school, that he had the support he needed, even if Minho wasn’t the one to provide it.

Not wanting to explain what was going on, or having to face questions he wasn’t prepared to answer because he still didn’t know how it had happened, only that he’d fallen out of Jeongin’s favour, he chose to text their mutual friends.

Blaming work, Minho was able to have the arrangements he’d made in January to cover his preparations for the winter showcase reinstated as everyone chipped in to cover for him and support Jeongin.

With that accomplished, he resigned himself to keeping his distance and letting Jeongin redefine their relationship. It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was what was best for the pup, and that mattered more.

Even Jonggyu and Vata returning from Japan with a case of pudding for him hadn’t improved his mood. His first thought had been the delight upon Jeongin’s face when he’d offered to share with him, after he’d appropriately teased Jeongin about his newfound bounty. Swiftly followed by the recollection that presently, Jeongin wanted nothing to do with him. It had darkened his mood accordingly, though he’d put on a brave face to thank his hyungs for thinking of him.

His plans for the night are to stay in with his cats, and hope that eventually Soonie and Doongie would choose to join him while sitting on the couch. Maybe he’ll find something to watch and keep his mind off things.

When his phone lights up with an incoming call, and he recognises that Jisung’s calling, he knows he can’t keep avoiding his friend. He’s been dodging calls all week, sending texts instead, but Jisung is tenacious enough that if he doesn’t answer on the weekend, he’ll have Jisung knocking on his door within the hour. The only thing worse than talking to his friends on the phone at this point would be to see them in person.

“Jagi.”

“Minho hyung! Jeongin told me he was headed to Busan for the weekend and it’s been months since I’ve seen you!” Jisung whines at him, his words quickly flowing in a rush. “So I’m coming over with sushi and soju and we’re watching anime.”

“What if I had plans?” Minho asks, already knowing that Jisung won’t take no for an answer. It hurts to think that anyone else knew of Jeongin’s plans before he did, and to hear of them second hand is worse.

“Jeongin said his trip was decided last minute, so you wouldn’t have had the time to make any plans but sit around with your cats.” Jisung sounds incredibly sure of himself.

Minho sighs and looks forlornly at Dori. He’s not getting out of this. “Fine. Those were my plans.”

“Great. See you in half an hour.”

Later, when Minho opens the door, he finds Hyunjin crowded behind Jisung with a bashful smile as Jisung pushes his way through the door and shoved a takeout bag from their favourite Japanese restaurant into his hands.

Minho glares at Hyunjin over Jisung’s head as he crouches down to remove his shoes. “What are you doing here?”

“You know Jisung is a passenger princess,” Hyunjin replies, opening the closet to find house slippers for himself and Jisung, “and I wanted to know what you did to break Innie’s heart.”

As he slowly blinks, Jisung elbow’s Hyujin, who flinches and then rubs at his side, missing Minho’s scowl return before he heads off to the kitchen to sort out the food they’d brought to eat.

Broke Jeongin’s heart? As if. If anyone’s heart is broken, it’s his. The nerve of Hwang Hyunjin to come into his home and accuse him of such a thing. He would never hurt Iyen. Not his baby boy. He closes his eyes as his hands clench and he leans on the counter. Not his baby boy. But Jeongin isn’t his. His alpha howls in loss and pain, though the sound doesn’t overshadow the sound of disgruntled conversation from the other room.

“You said you were going to be nice,” Jisung hissed.

“I was,” Hyunjin protested, “I didn’t growl at him, or attack him. I was civil.”

“Civil? He doesn’t look like he’s been sleeping. He stinks of rotten leaves and stolid, stagnant waters. You think he wanted this?”

At this, Hyunjin growls. “And Innie smells like someone left their dough out to proof for three days and forgot about it! He’s miserable and sore and isn’t complaining, but we all know something’s not right.”

Minho can’t contain his whimper of distress, amplified by his alpha who is tucking his tail between his legs, hiding his snout beneath crossed paws.

“And you think it’s right to blame Minho hyung?” Jisung snarls back. “Sit your ass down and stay there. There is something wrong, but trying to figure out who to blame isn’t going to fix anything.”

“Fine.” Hyunjin huffs, and the sound of him slumping down into the couch is proof that he’s sulking.

The growing scent of raspberry cheesecake cuts through the decaying forest surrounding Minho as Jisung approaches to stand beside him in the kitchen.

“He’s right,” Minho admits softly, “I must have done something. Everything was fine until it wasn’t, and we both know Jeongin would never harm anyone, so it must be my fault.”

“Hyung,” Jisung sounds disquieted as he leans against Minho. “We both know that you’d never knowingly hurt him.”

No, he never would, but he must have, somehow, without even realising it, because Jeongin no longer wanted him around. Had told him he was tired of pretending to be domestic, and had no willingness to continue to be so. It was a fair request, and Minho could understand. He’d likely been too overbearing, too present. Constantly asking if he’d eaten, if he had rested well, if there was anything he needed. Too willing to leave sweaters, hoodies and shirts around already pre-scented for Jeongin’s comfort. Too quick to lean in and cover Jeongin in his balmy mountain pine and wildflower smell. Especially when he knows how adverse Jeongin is to physical touch most of the time.

He’d been taking advantage of his position as Jeongin’s chosen companion, and Jeongin had finally had enough.

“Doesn’t change that I did, Jisung-ah.”

“I haven’t figured it out yet, but the fact that you’re both upset means something.” Jisung picks up some of the dishes that Minho had pulled out of the bag while he’d been standing in the kitchen. “Grab some plates and chopsticks and let’s go eat. We’ll figure this out, hyung.”

Reluctant as he is to face Hyunjin again, he’s even more reticent about having Jisung drag him out of the kitchen. Obediently, he finds three plates and stacks three sets of chopsticks on them and carries them out to the other room where Jisung and Hyunjin have sat down on the floor by the table with their backs propped up against the couch, leaving him to sit on the other side of the floor with his back to the television. Typical. They’ve likely done it on purpose so he won’t put on some anime and they can insist on talking while they eat.

Hyunjin is still sulking, a frown upon his far too pretty features, and the air about him reeks. “Would you quit that?” Minho pokes his chopsticks towards him. “I’d like to enjoy my meal without the scent of rancid oil and rotting flowers.”

Jisung sways next to Hyunjin, rubbing their shoulders together. “Can you accept that if they’re both miserable that Minho likely didn’t break Jeongin’s heart and something else must be going on?”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes and huffs. “Alright. Fine. Let’s eat.”

Minho squints at them as he removes the lids from the take out containers. “You’re sleeping together again, aren’t you?”

Hyunjin glares at him while Jisung turns red and starts to stammer.

Minho raises his hand. “Don’t bother. I already know I’m right. Did you at least talk to each other this time?”

“We always talk!” Jisung is swift to assert.

Minho scoffs and begins piling food on all their plates. At the very least, he’d planned on talking to Jeongin, even if he’d never really had that chance. Jisung swore he would talk to Hyunjin, but hadn’t, and Minho is convinced the quick and flippant response from Jisung now was tantamount to a confession that they still hadn’t seriously discussed what it was they were doing together. In the past he’d left them alone to figure out their own shit, but he was tired of seeing Jisung be hurt, of watching Hyunjin pine and scowl in turns. “But have you talked about your relationship, or are you just fucking around again because you’re too scared to admit you might actually like each other?”

Hyunjin’s eyes flash and he growls in response, “Just because you’re unhappy and things aren’t working out for you does not give you the right to take your frustration out on Jisung.”

Minho glares at him. “You were ready to tear my throat out because you thought I’d hurt Jeongin. Might want to remember that other alphas might get angry at you for the way you treat their omega friends as well.”

“Hyung!” Jisung protests, “we talked, I promise. Like really talked.”

Minho slowly blinks and looks at Jisung, who is able to steadily meet his gaze. Minho nods and begins sorting out their plates again, offering the first one to Jisung. Perhaps it’s just spiteful to snub Hyunjin and serve Jisung first, but he’s not feeling charitable right now. His next word is laced with sarcasm. “Right.”

Jisung’s expression pinches, as if he’s pained.

“Hyung, I’ll let that one slide because you’re in pain, but we don’t deserve your ire.” Pulling him closer, Hyunjin reaches for Jisung’s hand and laces their fingers together. “No more screwing around. No more friends with benefits. We’re dating. Trying to take things slow. We weren’t planning on mentioning anything until we’d figured out if this is what we both really wanted. We didn’t want any well meaning advice or meddling.”

When Jisung tilts his head to rest his cheek upon Hyunjin’s shoulder, the neckline of his shirt slips down revealing the mottled bruising on his neck. Just one more thing that Minho won’t be talking about today. “But, you think it’s fine to come here and meddle in my life? In Jeongin’s?”

“Hyung, maybe Chan and Changbin buy it, but I already know that there’s nothing at work keeping you busy like this. April’s a quiet time for you, and you didn’t tell me about any new contracts, and you would have, because you always do!” Jisung fills his mouth with food, cheeks puffed out, to prevent himself from speaking further.

Minho can’t argue that logic, so he doesn’t bother. He eats instead, not wanting to admit to anything.

Hyunjin sets down his chopsticks. “Hyung, neither of you are happy and we know something must have happened, because you’ve been living in each other’s pockets for months and you were happy doing so. I was wrong to place the blame at your feet. Will you talk to us?”

Of all his friends he’d go to for relationship advice, these two are the last he’d choose, but they are here, and they care. Moreover, Minho is tired of struggling to make sense of it on his own, and he’s never been one to reach out and ask for help. His friends know that, which is why Jisung made his way over, wiggling his way into the apartment with the offer of sushi, and plunking himself down on the couch, with Hyunjin as his back up.

Minho shrugs. “I thought everything was fine. Then last weekend, I came over, made breakfast, we ate. Then while I was finishing up the dishes, Jeongin said he couldn’t do this anymore and told me he didn’t want me around. I couldn’t argue with him. I wasn’t going to upset him further, so I left. Haven’t seen each other or spoken since.”

As Minho watches, Jisung chews energetically, obviously eager to say something, but not with his mouth full. Hyunjin pats his shoulder. “That doesn’t make any sense. I thought you’d had a fight at least.”

Jisung nods in agreement, still chewing before he swallows, followed by a cough to clear his throat. “It doesn’t sound like anything unusual happened.”

Setting down his chopsticks, Minho sighs as his appetite flees. “I didn’t think so either.”

“Hyung, maybe you need to tell us exactly what was said,” Hyunjin suggests, “Then we might be able to help you figure it all out.”

“I had to work late the night before, so the next morning, I came over, and made breakfast in time for Jeongin to eat when he usually wakes up. Just something simple, scrambled eggs with diced tomato and buttered toast. We ate, talked about plans for the day. He had some grading to do, so I was going to do the grocery shopping for the week myself. He seemed a little tired, not quite his usual self, but I know the pup’s getting heavy, and his back and feet are sore most of the time. He was still waking up at the time, so I didn’t think much of it. He pushed the food around more than he ate it, but when I offered to make something else instead, he said it was fine. That he wasn’t really hungry.

“He said he was done eating, so I started cleaning up. He was still sitting at the table, looking out the window, thinking and lost in his thoughts. He said he didn’t think he could do this anymore. I wasn’t sure what he meant, but thought I could help him sort out a way, so I asked him about it. He said, ‘I don’t want to play house anymore.’”

Minho rakes his fingers through his hair and looks at the table. His shoulders slump forward. “I wasn’t going to argue with him, or ask any questions. He’s pregnant. He’s entitled to feel how he feels, and I didn’t want to upset him further, so I left.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Hyunjin says, his brow furrowed and his chopsticks pick through his food. “Jeongin seemed so happy to be near you. It doesn’t seem like anything changed between you, so why would he say something like that?”

“At Christmas, we all thought something must be going on between you. The thoughtful gifts, the way you hovered near each other.” Jisung places a piece of sushi on Minho’s plate, one of his favourites and gestures for him to eat. “But then nothing seemed to come of it. Neither of you said anything, and when Jeongin went to the spa with us, he was all blushes and shy about being teased. But again, it didn’t seem like anything was actually happening, though I couldn’t help feeling like he wanted something to happen.”

Minho obliges with lackluster enthusiasm and eats the piece of sushi. He doesn’t even taste it, barely feels the texture of the fish or rice.

Hyunjin regards Jisung with more fondness than Minho can recall ever seeing when Jisung has been aware of Hyunjin’s gaze. “It wasn’t easy to talk to you about how I felt. I didn’t know if you returned my feelings. I knew we enjoyed being together, physically at least, but the rest of it I didn’t know. I wanted more. I liked you, but I thought that what we had, the casual sex was all you wanted. I was scared that if I mentioned it, that you’d break things off and I’d lose that too. And I was angry that it was all I’d ever have of you.” Jisung leans into him as Hyunjin speaks, and nuzzles his throat with his nose, a raspberry lemon cheesecake scent swirls comfortingly around Hyunjin. “It hurt to think I’d never have all of you, and I couldn’t bear the thought.”

“Hyune-yah,” Jisung says, his voice cracks and he turns his face to hide in the crook of Hyunjin’s neck. His voice is muffled as he continues, “We were both fools, too frightened to ask for what we both wanted.”

They’ve forgotten he’s in the room, and it’s his apartment. Minho clears his throat, and swiftly, both Hyunjin and Jisung are looking at him, blushing bashfully. “I agree. You’re both fools. Glad you talked. Perhaps talk some more? But later, not here, in front of my sushi.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “My point was, that we both made assumptions about how the other felt, and we ran hot and cold, and pushed each other away, when what we should have done was talk. It sounds to me like you haven’t actually talked to Jeongin about how you feel or what you want.”

“Assuming you want to be with Jeongin,” Jisung pipes up, his eyes shining with hope.

“Your theory is that he said what he said because it got too painful to be around me without actually being with me?” Minho doesn’t want to sound hopeful. He knows what he heard, and if he’s right, and Jeongin is tired of having him around, then he’s the fool to be considering otherwise.

“Is your pride worth never taking the chance to ask?” Hyunjin says pointedly.

Minho growls. A response born of fear and frustration. “Eat your sushi. I’m putting on some anime.”

While Minho finds the remote and situates himself in a better position to watch the television, he ignores the pleased expressions on his friends’ faces, and the coziness of their shared proximity. If he’d known they’d be so affectionate, he’d never have pushed Jisung to talk to Hyunjin.

“Jeonghunnie, what are you doing home so early?” 

His mother’s voice greets him as Jeongin stumbles through the door, struggling with the small case he’s brought with him for the weekend. His parents had told him he was always welcome. Perhaps he should have messaged them before he bought his train ticket, or even while he was on the train, but it had been an impulsive choice to leave Seoul, and he didn’t want to explain why he’d felt the need to leave the city for the weekend. Eight months into a pregnancy, the smallest things could have him in tears, and the distance which now exists between him and Minho was not something he wanted to dive into over the phone. Certainly not while surrounded by strangers on a train.

“Eomma, I’m sure Jeonghun’s still at cram school.” With a sharp tug, the small case clears the doorway, allowing Jeongin to close the door. He can hear the rush of footsteps, so he sets aside his case and pulls his feet out of his shoes and shoves them into house slippers before his mother arrives. It’s all very familiar, the way his mother rushes out of the kitchen to greet him, his short hair curling from the heat. His hand grasps the door frame as he turns the corner, so his feet won’t fly out from under him, and the dimples on his cheeks are the blueprint from which Jeongin acquired his own.

“Jeongin-ah.” His mother’s voice is warm and full of concern as he steps forward to embrace him. “You know we’re always glad to have you here. If you’d told me, I’d have put fresh sheets on your bed. You must be tired after the train ride.”

“I know where the spare sheets are,” Jeongin replies, feeling a sliver of guilt as he pulls his mother close and inhales his scent of chai latte.

Jeongin squawks when his mother pokes his side.

“As if I’m letting you make a bed?” His mother rolls his eyes as he steps away from the embrace. “In your condition?”

Jeongin sighs. “Eomma, you must know that being pregnant doesn’t make anyone infirm. You’ve had three children.”

“I have, and if someone offered to make my bed for me, I’d have been happy to sit down, put my feet up, and let them do so.”

Leaning forward, Jeongin takes his mother’s hands and brushes their cheeks against one another. “Alright. I’ll go have a seat and put my feet up. Thank you.”

“Good boy,” he states as he takes the case and waves Jeongin off to the other room.

When he walks past the kitchen, he can see his mother’s been working on preparing the banchan they’ll eat throughout the week, and it makes him feel even more remorse at having not told his parents that he was coming. He could have skipped the conversation by sending a simple text. Though that would have resulted in a phone call, and if he hadn’t answered, they’d have worried more.

For his own peace of mind, this was the only real option. He might regret it, but his parents would understand.

Like an obedient child, Jeongin makes his way into the other room and sits in his favourite spot, the leftmost side of the couch. He groans as he lifts his feet onto the cushions. It’s been days since anyone’s given his feet a good rub and his soles have become just as sore as his soul.

He’d promised himself he wouldn’t think of Minho the whole time he was in Busan, but no amount of determination and obstinance would prevail. Even if his parents wouldn’t be asking about his friends, and Minho specifically, Jeongin knows how much Minho has become part of his life. 

Jeongin still hasn’t figured out if coming home on Friday to find that Minho’s scent was fading from his apartment had made him flee to Busan the next morning because he was upset the scent was still there, or if he was distressed that it was going away. At least in Busan he won’t be wandering around his own apartment, trying to find items where Minho’s scent lingered, and then be at war with himself as to whether to hold it close or thoroughly clean it.

Maybe if he acts pathetic enough, his Eomma will have mercy on him and rub his feet. As the only omega child, so far at least with Jeonghun still unpresented, Jeongin feels they have a special bond. While the pup won’t be their grandchild, he knows his Eomma will still do anything to help him. He knows how blessed he is to be part of his family.

Busan has always been a safe haven. 

When Jeongin had come home crying after finding out he’d been the first pick for football at lunch because one popular kid had bet the other that they could win, even with the clumsiest kid in class on their team, his Appa had consoled him. She’d told him that he was still growing, that maybe once he was done getting big and tall, he’d find his co-ordination. She’d insisted that even if he didn’t age out of being awkward and lanky, that he would always have his kind heart, and that mattered more than the ability to kick a ball.

As he struggled to determine what he wanted to take at university, his Eomma had sat down with him and they’d had a long discussion. They talked about what subjects he enjoyed, and if that was something he’d want to continue to study. His Eomma had looked through all the career paths available for someone with a music degree, and when Jeongin wasn’t sure if he wanted to perform or teach, he’d guided Jeongin towards a summer job at a music camp so he could have some teaching experience. That opportunity allowed him to compare that adventure with the choral work and performances he participated in during school and he was able to find his path.

His parents have always guided him in ways that helped him become who he believes he’s meant to be. They’ve rarely told him to do anything, other than his regular chores and making sure he attended cram school. He was able to choose his own friends, his own activities outside of school. When he’d spent a winter wanting to ice skate, they’d bought him skates, and ensured they always had ice packs in the freezer for when he inevitably fell.

Jeongin has always felt loved. He’s never worried if his parents are proud of him. He knows because they’ve always proven it.

They won’t be proud of the way he’s run away from Seoul, from Minho, or the way he’s been awkwardly moving about his apartment building as he’s avoided his favourite hyung because it hurts too much to be near him.

But he also knows that they’ll sit down with him and talk to him about what happened, and help him find a way to grow past this and heal. His parents have always bandaged whatever wounds he’s brought to them, regardless of how he’d managed to hurt himself.

It’s only when he feels fingers brushing through his hair, that he realises he’d managed to fall asleep on the sofa. The warm scent of chai latte surrounds him, spiced honeyed milk soothes his frazzled thoughts and he smiles as he opens his eyes. Jeongin already knows his Eomma must be curious about why he’s here, and he’s grateful the question hasn’t yet been asked. “When will Appa be home?”

“Hmm. I messaged her while making your bed.” The fingers continue to brush Jeongin’s hair away from his forehead as his Eomma stands behind the couch he’s laying on. “She’s sorry she had to work this morning, but she’s rushing home as soon as the meeting’s over.”

Jeongin frowns, his forehead furrows under his mother’s fingertips. “It’s not an emergency.”

“I’m glad to hear that. But I’m guessing you don’t want to talk to me about what brought you here without warning and then go through it again once your Appa gets home.”

Jeongin looks down and sighs, “No, I’d really rather not.”

“Let’s go into the kitchen for a while then. You can have something to drink, and a couple cookies and I’ll finish making the banchan while we wait.”

It’s a struggle to rise from the couch. Jeongin has sunk into the cushions and rotating to put his feet back onto the floor and pivot himself around is made more difficult by the baby bump impeding his ability to strongarm his legs off the edge. He feels more disgruntled when he catches the way his Eomma’s lips twitch in amusement. Knowing his mother will let him struggle until he asks for help, he huffs and then holds out his hands. “Eomma, laugh if you have to, but help.”

With a laugh, he steps closer to take Jeongin’s hands and help his son rise to his feet. He moves to Jeongin’s side, putting a supportive hand upon the small of Jeongin’s back. “The last month will seem to drag, and you’ll start to wonder if you’ll ever be able to move again.”

“I already wonder how I’m able to move around.” Jeongin knows he’s pouting, his bottom lip prominently pushed forward.

The hand at the small of his back moves to his waist and pulls him closer. Jeongin inhales the comforting smell he’s always associated with love and security.

“You can lean on me while you’re here,” he is quick to say, “but we’ll have to send you home at the end of the weekend, and you’re back in Minho’s care then.”

Jeongin can’t help but flinch at the name and his Eomma is quick to stop and look at him. He closes his eyes, unable to bear the way his mother scans his features.

“Ah.” His mother’s voice is a gentle tenor timbre, carrying an apologetic tone. “We’ll talk more about that when Appa gets home.”

Jeongin nods and opens his eyes and lets himself be led to a chair in the kitchen. His mother places a tall glass of milk and a small plate with a few cookies in front of him.

While his Eomma works at the kitchen counter, the knife in his hand more sure and swift than Jeongin could ever be, Jeongin drinks his milk and nibbles at the cookies. His stomach is still unsettled, from travel or worry of the conversation to come, he’s not sure.

They talk of safer topics. Eomma brings up how Jeongsuk is performing in his new management role and how he and his spouse had been over to visit recently with their two children. It’s rare that Jeongin is able to see his older brother and his family. Jeongin asks how Jeonghun has been enjoying school, and if he’s discovered a subject he loves, and if there are any he hates. He doubts his youngest brother will hate math as much as he did, but also doesn't think he’ll love it as much as Jeongsuk did.

Their conversation mingles between stories of the antics of Jeongsuk’s children and Jeonghun’s love of building things and how this could lead to a career in architecture, engineering or construction in the future when Appa walks into the kitchen and steps up behind Eomma to kiss his cheek.

Setting aside the cookie Jeongin has been nibbling, he greets his father. “Hello Appa.”

Releasing her spouse, Appa walks over to the table and runs her fingers through Jeongin’s hair before leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Jeonginnie, it’s good to see you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming.”

There’s a dismayed rumble from the back of his Appa’s throat before she speaks, “You know you’re always welcome here, even if you don’t tell us you’re coming. Even if you arrive at two in the morning, our door is always open to you.”

Jeongin blinks swiftly and swallows harshly. The healing scent of vetiver and ginger reaches out to encompass him. “I love you too, Appa.”

Appa smiles, sharing a glance with his Eomma. “Is there anything I can do to help finish up in the kitchen?”

Eomma looks up from the sink where he’s finishing washing the knives, cutting board, pots and pans used to make the banchan. “Just cleaning up. I’ll make us some tea, and then if Jeongin’s ready, he can talk to us about why he’s here.”

While Eomma sets the kettle to boil, Appa sits down beside Jeongin and takes his hand. Her fingers are as long as his own, her nails polished with a neutral taupe that adds to her professional attire. As she crosses her legs, the pleats of her long navy skirt shift, and her other hand moves to unbutton the matching jacket. “You know you can tell us anything, when you’re ready.”

Jeongin clings to his father’s hand. “I know. I just needed to get away for a while. I…”

“No need to rush. Let’s wait for the tea,” Appa suggests, patting Jeongin’s hand. “In the meantime, how was Hyunjin’s opening? Did everyone like your dress?”

Jeongin refuses to tell his parents that he‘d had a delusional thought for a brief moment that Minho was going to pounce, bite, or perhaps ravage him in that outfit. Instead, he blushes, and clears his throat. “Felix-hyung said I was beautiful and dared everyone to disagree with him.”

“And of course no one did,” Eomma quickly adds with certainty.

Jeongin laughs, “No, no one did.”

“You have good friends,” Appa states, sliding the plate of cookies back in front of Jeongin as Eomma places his tea at the table.

“I do. The best.” Jeongin smiles, but then his lower lip trembles and he looks down as his hands encircle the warmth of his teacup and his eyes watch the swirl of steam rising from the amber liquid.

What happens if he can never face Minho again? How will he remain friends with Jisung and Hyunjin? Will their group of friends have to plan around them, alternating which of them gets to attend their celebrations and outings? Or, will they all go different ways? There’d be pressure for Chan and Felix to pick him, if only because he’s carrying their pup, but that isn’t fair. Minho’s done nothing wrong. Neither has Jeongin. It’s not wrong to fall in love, even when it hurts. He just doesn’t know how to be around Minho without feeling the ache of longing for what he can’t have. 

The warmth of fingers encircling his wrist pulls him from his spiralling thoughts. When he looks up, his Appa is looking back at him, eyes sombre in a face etched with cheekbones as sharp as his own. “Agibbang, will you tell us what happened? No matter what’s going on, you know we’ll always be there for you.”

Jeongin nods. “I know. I just don’t really know where to start or how to tell you. Part of me is scared that if I say anything it’ll be real, and true, and I want to keep avoiding that, but I really can’t.”

“Would it help if we asked you some questions?” Eomma suggests.

“Maybe. Probably.” One of Jeongin’s hands rises to clutch at his rosary, kneading the beads between his fingers.

“Let’s start with this then. Are you and the pup healthy?”

Jeongin blinks, and quickly reassures his parents, “Oh, yes.” He didn’t realise that might be a concern until he took in the way his parents relaxed and the hand holding his wrist loosened. “Sorry, we’re both fine. The pup is growing well, and I’m adjusting as I should be. Everything checked out when we saw the doctor last.”

“Good,” she reassures him. “How are things with Chan and Yongbok? You’d mentioned things were getting better.”

Jeongin nods again. He feels like the questions are moving around the axis of the issue, easing him into talking about what’s going on, but it’s calming and helpful, and he’ll let his parents guide him now as they have done so in the past. “Jisung, Felix and I went for a spa day a while back. It was fun, and  Felix says that he and Chan are doing a lot of healing together. He’s happier now.”

“That’s good to hear.” Appa pats his hand. “And the situation at work? Did that bit of ugliness get resolved?”

“It did. It wasn’t great. I wish I’d even considered that it might be an issue sooner so I could have said something, rather than having an angry group of parents accost the principal and me.” Jeongin sighs. “I wanted to keep everything private. It really wasn’t anyone’s business but ours. The school was very understanding, and they sent out a note to the parents. I also agreed to speak with the older students when their health classes covered reproduction about my experience.” His fingers continue to play with the beads on his necklace. “I suppose everything can be a teaching moment if you put enough effort into it.”

Eomma laughs. “It would seem so. Tell me, where did you get the rosary? I wish we’d thought to send you one. I know how you never take off the ring, but of course it wouldn’t fit properly right now.”

Jeongin’s fingers still, and then he lets the rosary go as if it had burnt him, and the beads land heavily upon his chest and the cross sways between his slight breasts. “I…I didn’t think of it either.”

Appa frowns. “Whoever got it for you must know you well. That you’d want a rosary, and to pick a green in that exact shade. Was it Hyunjin?”

Jeongin shakes his head, and his voice is subdued. “Minho-hyung.”

Appa places her hand over Jeongin’s. “Is Minho the reason why you’re here?”

A single nod of his head, and Jeongin is looking into the amber liquid of his cup of tea again.

“Did he hurt you, Jeongin-ah?” Eomma’s voice is full of concern, and Jeongin can feel the rise of a growl in his Appa’s chest at the implication.

Jeongin looks up swiftly and shakes his head vehemently. “No, never. He would never hurt me.”

“But he is the reason you’re here?” There’s still a bite to Appa’s words, even if the growl has settled.

“He’s been so good to me.” Jeongin’s hand covers the baby bump, and he makes himself small, leaning over the table. His voice is soft, hopefully quiet enough to hide his sorrow. “To both of us. He drives me to and from work. He makes lunch for me to take into work every day. He feeds me dinner. Hyung rubs my feet at the end of the day. When I ask for anything I’m craving, he somehow finds a way to make it happen. He’s…he’s been so good to me.”

Eomma shifts closer, his chair scuffing against the floor, so he can wrap his arm around Jeongin’s shoulders. “It sounds like he really cares for you. Why would that bring you to Busan?”

Jeongin bites his lip and Appa gives his hand a gentle squeeze. His parents remain quiet as they wait for his reply. Since he doesn’t know how to explain it, or what might have happened, or how things changed, he just blurts out the truth he’s been holding back. “I love him.”

“I can see why you would. He’s taken good care of you. Minho’s always been your favourite.” Appa’s tone is soothing.

“But he doesn’t love me.” Jeongin blinks back his tears. He’s so tired of crying about this.

Eomma pulls him closer to his chest, wrapping his other arm around him as well to hold him tightly. “Is that what he told you?”

Jeongin sniffles, wiping his hand across his nose. “I told him I didn’t want to pretend anymore, and he agreed and left. Seems pretty clear to me. He was only looking after me because he’d made a promise to Chan.”

A frown mars Appa’s features and further furrows the lines on her forehead. “Is that all you told him? That you didn’t want to pretend anymore?”

Jeongin leans into his Eomma, pressing his forehead against his neck, calming himself with the milky spice that has always clung to his mother. “He’d shown up that morning, made me breakfast, and after we ate, he was doing the dishes. I just, it hurt, to think that he was only there because he’d made a promise. I couldn’t handle him being there, caring for me, but not really caring for me.” His hand clutches at the rosary again. “I told him I didn’t want to play house anymore, and he said he understood, and he left as quickly as he could.”

“Jeongin-ah,” Appa says with a gentle, yet dismayed tone. She reaches over to brush her fingers through his hair, allowing her to see his face, even as he continues to hide against his mother. “Did you not tell him that you cared for him? That you have feelings for him?”

Feeling seen has tears slipping down his cheeks and he clings to his mother, even as he leans into his father’s hand brushing through his hair. “I couldn’t. I…even if I did, it’s not like he’d ever love me.”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Eomma’s voice remains calm, but there’s a sharp turn to the spiciness of his scent.

“I don't bring anything to the relationship!” Jeongin can taste the way his stale mouldy bread overlays the chai latte of his Eomma and the medicinal herb of his Appa. “I don’t cook. I’m clumsy and break things all the time. Even when I get home, I have work to do, grading papers, and selecting music for the classes. I have to practise piano almost every day too. I don’t give enough of my time for a real relationship. I’m too tall, too stubborn and quick to state my opinions. I--”

Jeongin cuts himself off when he hears the rising volume of his father’s growl and looks up at Appa.

“I don’t know how you started to believe any of that. I’m certain we can blame any number of your past partners for making you feel that way, because that’s not how we raised you. We always wanted you to make your own choices, to be your own person. Jeongin-ah, we never wanted you defined by what society believes a sub-gender should be.” There’s still a hint of growl to Appa’s voice as she speaks, her features are sharp, but her eyes are sad as she looks at Jeongin. “Did Minho ever ask you to cook? Has he said he wants you to be anything other than who you are?”

Thinking back, Jeongin recalls Minho’s words after he’d fallen during their shopping trip. He recalls the frustration Minho expressed about Daehyun, and the way his ex had tried to force him into being his ideal of a perfect omega. Images of Minho’s dance flitter through his mind, and the conversation they’d had afterwards about what the performance meant and tried to express. Minho never demanded Jeongin change or stay silent. He’d always sought Jeongin’s opinion and thoughts, willing to discuss any differing views, but not requiring anyone’s mind be changed.

He shakes his head. “No. He never has.”

Eomma is rubbing Jeongin’s back soothingly, and Jeongin can hear the rumble of his mother’s voice with his ear pressed tightly to his chest. “What would you have thought if Minho had been the one to say those words to you. That he didn’t want to play house anymore?”

“I would have understood. It’s tiring to take care of me. It’s not easy, and he’s working so hard. It must be exhausting.”

“You would have accepted what he said, and let him go then?”

“Of course.” Jeongin lifts his head to look up at his mother. “I wouldn’t want to make him stay if he didn’t want to.”

“Even though you love him?”

“How I feel wouldn’t matter.” Jeongin frowns. “It would hurt, but I’d let him go.”

Appa brushes the last of the tears from Jeongin’s cheeks. “But you said those words, not because you wanted him to go, but because you couldn’t bear to have him stay if it didn’t mean something to him.”

Jeongin whimpers as his stomach drops in freefall. He bites at his lower lip and swallows harshly, trying to summon the strength to keep himself from being ill. “You think he may have walked away because he thought I didn’t want him there?”

Long fingers move the hair back from his forehead so Appa can press her lips to his skin. “Baby, if you don’t tell someone how you feel, you can’t expect them to know.”

“I’ve made a horrible mess of this.” Jeongin pouts, already dreading what he knows he needs to do. He can’t keep hiding from Minho. Even if Minho feels differently, he deserves to know the truth, and to be able to make a choice, rather than have it made for him. He’s been unfair.

“I wouldn’t take it that far, agibbang. But you do need to actually talk to Minho. You can be brave. You have so little to lose now, but so much you could gain instead.” Eomma laughs softly. “I’ve made so much more of a mess of things with your Appa. The important thing is to work through the mess, and clean it up together. You don’t want to hide from him forever, do you?”

Jeongin shakes his head, “No. I don’t think I’d be allowed to, even if I wanted to.”

The scrape of a chair accompanies Appa rising from the table. “I’m going to make lunch, and we’ll eat, and you’ll relax for the rest of the weekend, and we’ll send you back home tomorrow. Don’t worry about anything for now, alright?”

Jeongin nods and his lower lip slips from between his teeth so he can smile, “I’ll try not to.”

“Hyung. What’s up?” Changbin’s voice manages to convey both friendliness and suspicion in equal measure.

The answer to his Sunday afternoon call leaves Minho feeling awkward. “Wanted to make sure you’re still good to drive Jeongin around next week. You probably won’t have to worry about Wednesday morning.”

“I’m going to put you on speaker,” Changbin replies, “Seungmin’s here with me and he said he’d take care of Monday and Tuesday, since he has a break from his shooting schedule.”

“Hi Hyung.”

“Kim Seungmin,” Minho acknowledges the greeting in his typical droll tone, “what are you doing with Changbin?”

The pause it takes either of them to answer is suspect. “Changbin-hyung asked me to come into the studio to do some recording for his new demo.”

It doesn’t sound like they’re in the studio from the ambient noise coming through the call. The background chatter feels more like a cafe or a restaurant. “You’re in the studio now?”

A muffled cough, and a clearing of a throat. “We’re grabbing coffee.” Changbin sounds almost bashful. As if getting coffee is somehow not allowed, or that being asked what they’re doing together is crossing a line. 

Minho’s eyes narrow, which they can’t see over the phone, but he’ll let this go. Even if he does feel like they’ve been spending time together, and that they’re being evasive about it, it doesn’t necessarily mean anything. They’re allowed to have a friendship. It’s not like it impacts him, and they’re both willing to help out Jeongin, and that’s what he cares about most.

If they’re just being secretive about getting together, so be it. Not like he’ll need to intervene, or get involved, or stage an intervention. Seo Changbin and Kim Seungmin are not on the same level of drama as Hwang Hyunjin and Han Jisung.

“And you’ll cover Thursday and Friday, Changbin?”

“Assuming you’ll still need me to.” There’s a pause, and then Changbin continues, “should work calm down for you, let me know. I had to move some plans around, but if I could shift them back, that’d make life easier.”

It’s unfortunate that they’re not meeting in person. The rise of smoke scent over that of cedar and leather would give Changbin away if he had other motives for suggesting Minho could resume his care of Jeongin. It’s too difficult to tell if Changbin really would be relieved if that happened, or if he knows or suspects something isn’t quite right between Minho and Jeongin and is gently prying.

Minho will not give him any hint of it. He had enough recrimination from Hyunjin already. “I doubt things are going to change between now and the end of the week, but I’ll let you know.”

“Alright. Thanks hyung.” There’s another pause on the other end and Minho considers ending the call, but Changbin continues, “Have you seen Jeongin lately?”

“No. I haven’t seen him in almost two weeks now.” Minho’s proud of how steady his voice sounds, and now grateful that they aren’t meeting in person.

“I don’t think he’s sleeping all that well,” Seungmin offers, his voice more distant than Changbin’s, “If you’re planning on handing off lunches to us like you did last week, you might want to leave us with some hoodies you’ve worn recently.”

Minho isn’t sure that would actually help. Regardless of Hyunjin and Jisung’s insistence that Jeongin cares for him and that what happened wasn’t really what Jeongin wanted, he’s reluctant to impose himself back into Jeongin’s life in any way. The lunches he can excuse because the pup needs the food, and he’s still obligated to follow through with his promise to Chan. “I’ll see if I have any lying around.”

“Time for us to head back to the studio. Talk later, hyung,” Changbin states, and the call is quickly disconnected. Likely the doing of Kim Seungmin reaching over to end the call, just to spite Minho from doing so himself.

Though he doesn’t want to talk to anyone else, he knows he needs to reach out to Chan and Felix to see if either or both of them are available on Wednesday for Jeongin’s next ultrasound appointment. He could have asked any of their other friends, but Felix has been doing well with Jeongin lately. Minho only agreed to take on his role in Jeongin’s life because Chan and Felix needed to keep their distance. Maybe it’s right that at this point, they reclaim the supportive role in Jeongin’s pregnancy. Besides, Chan and Felix would be excited to see the ultrasound, more so than anyone else.

Bringing up the appointment details in his email, he forwards it over to Chan, copies Felix, and adds a brief message,

I’m hoping one or both of you would be able to accompany Jeongin for this appointment.

Let me know soon, so I can make other arrangements if you can’t.

Thanks,

Minho

He’s stress cleaning, or at least that’s what he tries to convince himself as he moves things around his apartment. If he indiscriminately sniffs things as he’s moving them around, chasing after any hints of bread or a bakery, that’s between him and his judgemental cats. Doongie’s been following him around, sitting in the room he’s tidying and looking up from the paw he lifts to clean it to gaze at him reprehensibly every so often.

Just as he’s beginning to believe that calling may have been better than waiting for a response to an email, his phone chimes and when he pulls it out of his pocket, he sees the notification of Chan’s reply. He sets down the last thing he’d picked up to reorganize and reads the email.

We’d love to. We should have asked about joining you for the last appointment ourselves.

Hope everything’s okay. Let us know if we can help in any way.

Chan (and Felix, of course)

Able to relax, Minho sits back down on his couch. Maybe he should go for a hike tomorrow. That might help clear his head. He knows he needs to talk to Jeongin. They need to discuss what happened, and how they’re going to manage going forward, but he can’t do that until after the pup arrives. Minho won’t do anything further to distress Jeongin.

When he’d promised Hyunjin and Jisung that he’d talk to Jeongin, he never said when.

Jeongin holds the lapels of his jacket together as he slides into the passenger seat and closes the door behind him more forcefully than intended. The warmth in the car surrounds him, even as rivulets of rain trickle down the back of his neck and underneath his sweater, causing him to squirm as he attempts to put on his seatbelt.

“Give me that,” Seungmin insists as he reaches over to take the buckle from Jeongin and gets him securely belted in, “why don’t you have an umbrella?”

“I didn’t know it was going to rain rain. The app said ‘light showers’.”

“And now I have light puddles in my car.”

“Hyung, I’m sorry.”

Seungmin looks over at him, and his features soften before he looks out the windshield and pulls away from the curb of the apartment building. “I suppose it will dry out eventually. So will you, but my car won’t get sick, and you might. Don’t forget you won’t really be able to take anything right now if you get a cold, so better not to.”

“Trust me, I’m not at all interested in getting sick.” Jeongin takes a deep breath and exhales, his face turned to look out the side window which fogs up and obscures his vision. With a sigh, he raises his arm to wipe the window with his wet jacket sleeve, which doesn’t really help for clarity, but leaves the window looking less opaque.

“Your lunch is on the back seat. Don’t forget to take it with you when we get to the school.”

“That was kind of you, hyung.” Jeongin looks over and smiles. He’d planned on just using the school cafeteria, which has good quality food, but he knows whatever Seungmin brought for him will be better.

“Don’t thank me, not that you did.”

“I should thank you.” Jeongin smiles further, dimples on display as his eyes narrow and he squints at Seungmin cutely. “Thank you, hyung.”

“No, really, you shouldn’t thank me,” Seungmin says dryly, “I didn’t have anything to do with your lunch. Minho hyung dropped off food for you last night with instructions to make sure that I give it to you. I tried to tell him the school has a whole cafeteria with a serviceable kitchen that you’ve even praised in the past, but he didn’t care.”

“Oh.” The smile slides from Jeongin’s features and he slumps back into his seat, his hands covering his baby bump. He hadn’t even considered that as an option for why Seungmin would have lunch for him.

Due to the heavy traffic on the street, Seungmin doesn’t notice Jeongin’s response and continues, “I don’t know why he didn’t just give you the food, or put it in your fridge. I’m half an hour out of his way, and if he’s so busy working, it’s not like he’s got the time to spare. He probably figures you’d just be too tired in the morning to remember, and if you don’t get to eat his food for lunch, he’d rather have me to blame for not giving it to you than blame you for forgetting.”

Right. No one else knows what’s happened. He hasn’t wanted to mention it to anyone, and it’s not like he’s felt brave enough to take his parents’ advice and put it into action. He’s in a purgatory state where their relationship is still undefined, neither friendship nor more, and somehow, that still feels more comfortable than having an answer. “Right. I probably would. Forget that is.”

There must be something to his tone of voice, because Seungmin spares him a glance, even with the wipers doing double time to keep the windows clear of the rainwater kicked up by the car in front of them.

“The other bag in the back seat has Minho hyung’s sweatshirt in it.”

Jeongin’s omega wants to dive into the back of the car, pull the shirt out of the bag and press it close to his face. It’s been too long since he’s been surrounded by mountain air and wild flowers.

“He said you probably wouldn’t want it,” Seungmin continues, “I thought I’d have to fight him for it, but he handed it over the moment I suggested you should be able to choose for yourself.”

He whimpers, causing Seungmin to give him a sharp glance. “Innie, did the two of you fight?”

“No.”

“But something did happen?”

Jeongin wants to open the passenger side door and escape the car. He feels horrible about how Minho continues to do whatever he can to fulfil his promise to Chan, even from a distance. Their friends are being dragged into the middle, without even knowing what’s happened, just as he feared they would be.

Seungmin deserves better than to be abandoned while driving him to work, and he’d have to leave the food and Minho’s sweatshirt in the car. Not worth it. He couldn’t run far enough now anyway, not with the rain or in his condition. Besides, all his friends know where he’d hide.

“It’s all my fault.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I know I need to fix it. And what I need to do.” Jeongin starts chewing at the side of his finger.

“Then what’s the problem?” Seungmin looks over at him while stopped at a red light and his face scrunches in distaste before he captures Jeongin’s wrist and moves his finger away from his mouth.

“I hate talking about how I feel.” Jeongin pouts, placing his hand back on his baby bump. His voice is softer when he continues, and his omega wants to tuck tail and hide. “I’m scared.”

“Whatever it is you did, I’m sure Minho hyung will forgive you,” Seungmin is quick to reassure him.

“I’m not worried about being forgiven.” Even with the rain, Jeongin rolls down the window slightly to let some fresh air in while wishing he’d worn a scent blocker. No one should have to be around stinky, rotting bread.

“Then what are you worried about?”

Jeongin tucks himself about the baby bump, cradling the pup for what comfort doing so brings him. “That Minho hyung won’t love me.”

“Of course he lov—” Seungmin’s voice trails off and his fingers tap against the steering wheel. “You know I’ve been holding off on talking to my parents about my relationship with Changbin hyung.”

Jeongin tilts his head and looks over at Seungmin. “I do.”

“It’s hard to have these sorts of conversations with people when you want them to still care for you afterwards,” Seungmin explains, his fingers still tapping against the steering wheel.

“I know hyung cares for me.” Jeongin isn’t sure where Seungmin is going with this.

“He does, but you don’t know if he loves you, which is different.” Seungmin is always factual, and has little issue with tossing the truth out there, naked to fry under the heat of the sun. “We both have something we’re scared to do, even though we know we need to do it.”

“We do,” Jeongin reluctantly agrees.

“Let’s make an agreement. I’ll talk to my parents and you’ll talk to Minho hyung. No matter what happens, we’ll have each other afterwards.”

“What if Changbin hyung’s not ready?”

Seungmin rolls his eyes, “He’s ready. He’s been waiting on me.”

Jeongin slides his finger out of his mouth, scowls at it as he wipes the spit off on his jacket. He’s not even sure when he put his finger back in his mouth. He takes a deep breath and nods. “Alright, I’ll talk to Minho hyung.”

Chapter Text

“It’s good to see you all together again.” Dr. Park beams at them, her smile radiant. Her white lab jacket is crisp and clean, though its pocket remains marred at the corner by a stains of ink from the collection of pens she carries therein. 

Every time Jeongin has seen the doctor, she’s been professional and kind. He’s already determined that should he ever have children of his own, he’ll ask if she has space for another patient. While unsure that being a parent will be in his future, he’s still glad he chose to help Felix and Chan. If nothing else, the experience has taught him a lot of exactly what sort of partner he wants in his life. He’s still unsettled at the prospect of talking to Minho, and in the end, maybe Minho won’t be the person who ends up being his partner, but whoever next comes into his life will have the burden of trying to measure up to his favourite hyung.

“It’s been a hard few months, but I feel healed, and better prepared to be a parent now than ever before. I didn’t know how much I could benefit from therapy.” Felix reaches over to take Chan’s hand. “While I regret how we couldn’t be present for Jeongin to start with, being able to focus on myself, and our relationship, and we’ve never been stronger.”

Chan’s look of adoration at Felix while he squeezes his hand makes Jeongin’s heart pang. It’s not that Jeongin is jealous. He longs to have what Chan and Felix have, but he’d never want to take it away from them. Having spoken with his parents and being home in Busan helped him to realise that he’s always known what a loving relationship looked like, and thinking back on his past, he’s frustrated that he let himself settle for anything less. He needed higher standards, and now he has them. Though, he doesn’t know how he’ll ever accept anything lower than what he’d shared with Minho.

It wasn’t physical, or romantic. It felt like friendship on the cusp of being more. After talking to Minho, that’s the approach he’ll take. Stop looking for people who he’s initially attracted to, or at least, engage them with friendship in mind first and see if he enjoys their company enough to want something more.

As much as it hurts to think of next steps after talking to Minho, he has to be realistic.

He’s drawn from his thoughts as Chan says his name, “Jeongin-ah’s been doing all the hard work, really. Staying healthy, eating a good diet, taking his vitamins. I haven’t heard him complain once.”

Blushing, Jeongin shakes his head. “It’s not just me. Everyone’s really helped out to make things easier for me. Driving me all over the place, making or bringing me food, ensuring I get to all my appointments, picking up things for me.”

Felix agrees with enthusiasm, “Minho-hyung’s really been there for you.”

Jeongin fights to keep the smile on his face, and while he thinks he’s convincing enough for the doctor, Chan’s looking at him far too intently.

“It takes a village,” Dr. Park intercedes, “it’s good to know you’ll have lots of helping hands after Jeongin-ssi gives birth as well.”

“My sister is flying in to make a nuisance of herself for the first couple weeks.” Chan rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face belies his reaction, and he’s left rubbing his chest after Felix thwaps him.

“She’ll be a great help, even if all she does is help make me laugh.”

Chan sighs. “By making me miserable.”

Jeongin laughs, well aware of the mischief Hannah is capable of, and the spunky attitude she has. “It’ll be good to see Hannah-yah. I haven’t seen her in years.”

Dr. Park claps her hands loudly enough to capture everyone’s attention again. “While due dates aren’t set in stone, babies arrive at their own timing, we are looking to be about two weeks out at this point. Not much should change, though you may experience some Braxton Hicks contractions. They’ll be mild and irregular, felt more like tightness in your stomach area. As a first time pregnancy, it can be hard to know when the contractions are real, but they should be regularly timed, and feel stronger, and they’ll start towards the top of your uterus and move down to the lower segment. Often, with Braxton Hicks contractions, getting up and moving around can help them go away.

“You may notice a shift in where the pup is carried, or less movement than you previously had. The pup is going to want to position itself in preparation to be born, and there’s less space to move about in. Back pain may also be an issue for you as the body prepares for birth. It’s important to still get regular exercise, so remember to walk around when you can. Try to get proper rest and eat foods that are more easily digested. Issues with heartburn tend to flare up now too.”

“So many things to look forward to these last few weeks,” Jeongin bemoans dramatically with a grin.

“Keep up with your Kegel exercises as well. You’ll be glad you do.” Dr. Park looks over her glasses at Jeongin and waits for him to nod. “Any questions?”

Chan looks between Felix and Jeongin before he answers, “I think we’re all set. We can call if anything comes up though, right?”

“Or send an email. We’ll have you book an appointment in three weeks, but I suspect we won’t need it.”

Dr. Park stands and walks towards her office door, though she doesn’t open it quite yet. “Make sure you have a bag packed with things you’ll need or want at the hospital and keep it with you. When you have regular contractions every 5 minutes which last about a minute each, or your water breaks, that’s when you’ll want to head to the hospital. We already filed your birth plan with the hospital closest to your apartment, but make sure you keep a printed copy on you if you travel, just in case.”

“I will Doctor, thank you.”

Dr. Park opens the door and Jeongin is the first to walk out of the office, followed by Chan and Felix. 

The three of them make their way back to Chan’s car, and Felix opens the passenger's side door and helps Jeongin get comfortable. He grunts as he slides into the bucket seat. “She wasn’t kidding about the back aches, though I think getting back out of the car is going to be harder.”

“Sorry Innie,” Felix apologises, “We should have brought the SUV instead of the sedan. It’d be easier for you to get in and out of.”

“I’m not sure it matters all that much, hyung.” Jeongin buckles himself in as Felix closes the door and then gets into the back seat while Chan starts the car.

Chan’s voice is nonchalant as he drives away from the doctor’s office and into the city’s traffic. “How are things with you and Minho-yah?”

Damnit. Jeongin knew Chan had caught when he’d stopped himself from flinching. “I haven’t actually seen him in about two weeks now.”

“I thought not,” Felix pipes up, “I couldn’t catch any hint of him near you, and for months, it’s like you’ve been doused in mountain air and wild flowers.”

Jeongin blushes. They hadn’t been scenting that long. Certainly not for months, had they? When he thinks back, he remembers the first time Minho had offered to scent him, just before their dinner with Chan and  Felix. That would have been October. While that one time hadn’t repeated swiftly, it had broken a barrier that became easier to stumble across as the months progressed, until scenting became a familiar response to each other’s presence. To the point where trading clothing was an unspoken habit. “He’s been busy with work.”

“Busier than he was than when he was preparing for the winter showcase?” Chan’s eyes are still watching the road as the car moves down the city streets. “Did something happen? Is there anything we can do to help?”

“We didn’t fight, if that’s what you’re implying.” Jeongin tries to keep himself still, refusing to curl up around the pup, and looks out the window so his expression can’t be read.

Tiny hands land upon his shoulders and start massaging the muscles. Felix has always been good at helping others relax. “You know you’re allowed to fight with your friends, right? No matter how close people are, they can still manage to offend or hurt one another. It’s better to fight than to keep it all in.”

“But we didn’t fight, hyung.” Jeongin leans forward and the hands slip from his shoulders. Already he regrets moving, as Felix’s fingers are capable of easing even the tightest knots. He slips back into his seat. “I’m sorry. I’m not angry, I just don’t know how to talk about it and didn’t really want to.”

Felix’s hands land lightly upon his shoulders again, smoothing out the fabric of Jeongin’s jacket before he begins massaging again. “You don’t have to tell us what’s going on. Just remember you can always call on us if you need anything.”

Chan is quick to agree as he pulls into the driveway of the apartment building. “We’ll always be there for you. Just come find us, yeah?”

Jeongin tilts his head up and sniffs. He slowly blinks and takes a deep steadying breath. “I know. You’ve always been there for me, and I appreciate it.”

Felix lets go of Jeongin’s shoulders and gets out of the car. He opens the passenger’s side door and leans over to offer his hands. “We love you, Jeongin-ah.”

Free from his seatbelt, Jeongin takes his hands and carefully gets out of the car. “I love you too, hyung. Both of you.”

As Felix pulls him in for a hug, Jeongin hears a car door close behind him, and the scent of sun warmed sand and ocean breeze gets closer, intertwining with Felix’s fudge brownie as a pair of strong arms encircle them both.

Held between them, Jeongin is comforted and conflicted. Their relationship is everything he wants for himself. The affection they share. The way they see and perceive each other. The way they partake of their struggles and their achievements. He wants that, and more than that, he wants this with Minho. He knows neither stubbornness, nor his own determination will let him claim Minho’s heart, but not being brave enough to ask for it will surely lose it.

“I’ll talk to Minho hyung tonight,” he vows softly, “we just had a misunderstanding, and I’m going to clear that up.”

Felix smiles at him, and though Chan is the one who smells of summer, Jeongin feels as if the sun is shining upon him.

Chan rubs his cheeks against Jeongin’s before he pulls away. “Proud of you, Innie. Always.”

Jeongin blinks and refuses to look at either of them. “I’m going inside before you make me cry. It’s not fair, taking advantage of the temperamental moodiness of a pregnant omega.”

While scrolling through his list of recommended shows, Minho keeps his phone at hand, not wanting to miss the notification while his phone’s on silent. The food order he placed twenty minutes ago should be arriving soon, and he’ll likely have to buzz in the delivery person. No point in getting comfortable, or deciding on a show until then. Which would explain why he’s scrolling endlessly, except he’s not really paying attention to the shows, the screenshots, or their short blurbs

Instead, his thoughts focus on how it’s Wednesday. For the third time in a row now, his Wednesday routine has been altered, and he doesn’t like it. Not one bit.

Even the cats seem to know something’s not right. Dori’s stalking the door, as if waiting for someone to arrive. Doongie’s giving him disgruntled glances, as if blaming him for the lack of Jeongin in the apartment. Soonie is sitting on his lap, nudging his hand with his nose and purring as if trying to console him.

None of it is working. Dori’s attendance at the door won’t summon Jeongin. Doongie’s baleful glances won’t make him feel guilty. Soonie’s purr doesn’t provide solace. Finding a show to watch won’t distract him from his belief that he’s not where he’s meant to be, that this isn’t how things were meant to work out, or the insistent thought that he should be with Jeongin.

Maybe he’s not meant to be in a relationship with Jeongin. Perhaps they’re not meant to fall in love, to figure out how all their imperfections slot together, to stumble and fight and reconcile until they know each other in all the ways one person can know another.

That doesn’t mean they aren’t friends though. While Jeongin may have placed this distance between them, doesn’t Minho, as the older one, as the hyung, have some responsibility to bridge that distance?

When the first knock comes, it surprises Minho, but it’s not usual for a delivery person to sneak into the building with a tenant. A small delay before the next knock, and Minho has dropped his phone on the table and is making his way to the door, almost tripping over Dori, who has unusually remained near the door, rather than running away to avoid strangers.

As Minho reaches for the door, there’s two quick knocks, double time of the pause between the first two, and Minho’s fingers fumble around the knob.

That’s their knock: one, two, a pause, and then two knocks in double time. 

Jeongin’s on the other side of that door. Is something wrong? What happened? His heart is racing as his fingers grip the knob and turn it to open the door.

Minho doesn’t care about how he’s not showered since he got home from practice. How there’s sweat stains on his shirt at the collar or by his armpits. It doesn’t matter that his hair is disheveled, tossed this way and that after hours of dancing. That his eyes, usually puffy from lack of quality sleep have further sunken, making him look gaunt.

None of that matters as his gaze takes in Jeongin. His hands are clasped over his pregnant belly, his fingers rubbing at the space where Minho knows Jeongin’s rosary ring would be if he were still able to wear it. As his eyes scan over Jeongin, he notices the hunch of his shoulders, the way in which Jeongin’s eyes are lowered, refusing to look at him. He sees how Jeongin’s surrounded himself in comfort, the way the hoodie Seungmin had forcefully demanded from him distended over Jeongin’s belly, with the hood shadowing Jeongin’s features, making his face look even sharper with shadows. He’s wearing oversized shorts which hang past his knees, and his stockings disappear into a pair of slides which look new and bigger than the slippers Jeongin usually wears. His feet must be swelling again, but he doesn’t appear to be in pain.

When he inhales, the bread smell is stale, and there’s no hint of sweetness to it. It doesn’t hold the notes Minho’s come to associate with pain, anxiety or distress for Jeongin. It hints more at shame, or reluctance, perhaps dismay.

Minho steps back and opens the door wider. “Do you want to come in?”

Jeongin nods, and shuffles forward into the apartment.

Minho closes the door. When he turns around, he finds Jeongin standing in his living room, his head turning from chair to sofa, while Dori purrs and walks in circles as he rubs up against Jeongin’s legs.

“Are you alright?”

This time, as Jeongin nods,  the stronger light inside the apartment unveils his features. He looks wan and worn as he bites at his lower lip.

“Have you eaten?”

Jeongin shakes his head, and for the first time that night, Minho’s upset that he’d ordered sushi. He’d wanted it to feed his wounded soul, but he can’t share that with Jeongin. He’ll put it in the fridge when it arrives and eat it tomorrow.

“Have a seat, I’ll make you something.”

“No.”

Since when does Jeongin say no to his cooking? Minho pivots back to look at Jeongin. “You should eat something.”

“I will, but,” Jeongin answers, then pauses. His voice is timid, but steady, as he continues, “we should talk first, hyung.”

Somehow, his legs are steady enough to walk from where he is at the entrance to the kitchen over to the living room. He contemplates sitting in the chair, leaving the couch to Jeongin, but it’s as if Doongie knows what he’s thinking and jumps into the chair, curls himself up in it and then begins licking his front paw. He can’t disturb his cat, so he takes a bracing breath and sits down on the far end of the couch.

Jeongin takes a few more steps of his own and nestles himself into the other end of the couch. His hands slide into the pocket of the hoodie, where the fabric conceals what Minho imagines is Jeongin’s nervous fidgeting.

The silence extends, and the space between them on the couch seems to grow wider as Minho looks at it. There’s so many things he wants to say. He wants to apologise, for being too much, for hovering, for his constant presence in Jeongin’s life. He knows he’s too much, and that others can find that overbearing. He realises his sense of humour is strange, and off beat, and doesn’t always land the joke properly. He’s aware that he doesn’t say what he feels, doesn’t talk about what he wants, and lets his actions speak for him in an imperfect way that most can’t comprehend. But most of all, he wants to apologise for the way he feels has made things awkward between them. It’s not Jeongin’s fault that Minho loves him. It’s something he’ll have to work out for himself, and come to terms with, and grow beyond. He’s not yet managed to determine how he’s going to do that, but he knows he must.

If he were the one who had knocked on Jeongin’s door, then he would be saying all of that, in his own haltingly stilted way. He’d say what little of it he could express and depend on Jeongin to understand the rest. They’ve always understood each other in the past; surely Jeongin would be able to fill in all the remaining details.

But he’s not the one who knocked on a door. He’s not the one who asked to talk. So Minho remains quiet, watching Jeongin as he sits on the other end of an ever lengthening couch. The divide between them continues to feel even more insurmountable.

As he watches, the fabric of the hoodie’s pocket shifts. Jeongin is likely still moving as if reflexively trying to twisting a rosary ring he no longer wears about his finger. Peering closer, Minho spots a hint of silver chain against Jeongin’s shadowed neck. He’s not sure if he should feel hopeful that Jeongin still wears his Christmas present. Does Jeongin see that rosary necklace as something which connects him to Minho, or as something which connects him to God?

Jeongin clearing his throat startles him, and Minho’s blinking slowly as he raises his eyes to look at Jeongin’s face.

Releasing his lower lip from between his teeth, Jeongin takes a deep breath. The fabric of the hoodie stills, and Minho can see the tension in Jeongin’s shoulders as he holds himself still. “Hyung, I’m sorry.”

Minho isn’t certain why he’s apologising. None of this is Jeongin’s fault. He’d say so, but he knows that if he starts talking, he’ll blurt out everything he probably shouldn’t be saying, and not giving Jeongin the space to say what he needs to say. Instead, he just nods his head and waits.

“I was feeling overwhelmed.”

Those are the words Minho expected to hear. As much as he’d tried to hold back the protective and possessive side of his alpha, he knew he’d failed at times. Too eager to ensure Jeongin had good food at every meal, too quick to bundle him up for winter weather. Once Jeongin had accepted that being scented could help him, it had been difficult to not take advantage of doing so at each opportunity.

Minho’s eyes follow Dori as the youngest of his cats jumps up onto the couch. When the grey feline decides to head in Jeongin’s direction, he feels betrayed. Though Jeongin relaxes, the tension melting from his shoulders as a hand slips out of the hoodie’s pocket to pet the cat, Minho wonders where his comfort cat is to be found. Doongie’s still licking his paws while sitting in the chair. Soonie has tucked himself into the top of the cat tree, eyes closed and serenely napping. Betrayed, by all his feline brethren.

“You were doing so much to help. Cooking for me. Getting me to and from all of my appointments. You drove us to work when you almost never used to drive every day.”

Minho can’t watch Jeongin’s face while he’s talking, so he’s looking at Jeongin’s long fingers as they move over Dori’s fur, the cat’s purr a rumbling backdrop to their restrained conversation. “I could do less for you, if that’s what you want.”

Jeongin’s hand stills for a moment, and the hood slides back as he shakes his head, “I appreciated it. All of it, hyung. You took your promise to Chan hyung seriously. No one could have taken better care of me.”

Of course he did. It wasn’t hard to look after Jeongin. It was something he wanted to do. Still wants to do. His heart aches to make him some food, watch him eat and then let him get comfortable on the couch with a blanket so he can fall asleep. “I don’t often make promises, but I always keep them.”

There’s a flicker of a smile on Jeongin’s lips, but his eyes seem sad, and the way he leans his weight back into the couch is like a surrender. “I know hyung. You’re always true to your word. I admire that about you.”

He blinks slowly. If Jeonign wanted him to do something different, he would, but that’s not what he was saying. If this had been three weeks ago, he’d have leaned over and pressed a finger into Jeongin’s cheek, forming a dimple for him to get him to smile. He’d have offered a foot rub, or a cup of tea. He’d have done something to get Jeongin to relax and be comfortable again. Instead, all he can do is watch as Dori starts kneading Jeongin’s leg as he continues to purr. 

“But I still overwhelmed you,” Minho says, trying to work through what Jeongin’s asking for. He knows he’s overbearing and when he cares for someone, he doesn’t know how to stop showing how he cares. The need to demonstrate his emotions is like a broken pipe, and he can’t turn off the flow of water.  “If you need me to step back a bit so you can breathe and do things on your own, I can do that for you.”

He’d do anything for Jeongin. He’s not sure how best to tell him that. If the last few months haven’t shown Jeongin the lengths to which he’d go to care for him, then how could any spoken words say more?

“Hyung.” Jeongin’s aggrieved tone pulls Minho’s attention and his thoughts halt as he looks up. Jeongin’s eyes are wide in his face, his features pale, stricken with remorse. “That’s not what I want at all.” Jeongin breaks their gaze and focuses instead on watching his fingers gently pet Dori’s ears.

Minho’s heart is rabbiting in his chest. Just because Jeongin’s enjoyed the way Minho’s cared for him doesn’t mean anything more than that. It might have been something else he’d done. His voice is unsure as he makes his next offer. “I can try to be less protective, less possessive? I’m sorry my alpha is hard to restrain. You being pregnant makes things more difficult for me that way.”

Jeongin’s eyes close and he turns his head away, leaving Minho with only the impression of his clenched jaw. “I don’t want that either. I’m not asking you to change for me, hyung.”

While his alpha is accepting Jeongin’s words and racing across the fields of his heart, tail wagging and joyful, Minho’s heart is sinking. None of this makes sense. If Jeongin appreciates what he’s done, and doesn’t want him to change, but is overwhelmed, what does that all mean? 

“Iyen-ah, I don’t understand.” Minho strives to leave the far edge of the couch. He knows Jeongin is struggling. He wouldn’t have shown up at Minho’s door if he wasn’t ready to make an effort to fix things between them, but Minho feels more lost than before he arrived. He resettles himself closer to Jeongin and places his small hand over Jeongin’s which has stilled mid-pet on Dori’s back. “I’m trying, but I don’t know how to give you what you need.”

Jeongin turns his hand underneath Minho’s to wrap his fingers around the width of Minho’s palm. When he turns his face back to look at him, his eyes look wet, and his lips tremble to form a smile. “You don’t have to try so hard, hyung. You’ve kept your promise to Chan hyung.”

Minho blinks slowly. He blinks again. Jeongin still looks near to tears, and the strength with which Minho’s hand is held suddenly releases as Jeongin shifts and Dori makes a disgruntled sound as he jumps off the couch, allowing Jeongin to move.

He can feel each pulse of his heart, a thrum at his temple, keeping time as Jeongin gets up from the couch. It’s slow progress, a groan and a hand pressed to his lower back as he rises with a hiss.

“I didn’t do this just for Chan,” Minho speaks in a rush, the words tumbling from his mouth. Unbidden, half formed, the words just spill and Minho doesn’t know how to stop. He knows with certainty that if he lets Jeongin leave now, they’ll never have this conversation again. “You know he called me first, to ask me if I’d be alright with helping? Even before you made your choice. I growled at him when he mentioned Changbin and Hyunjin. It might have been worse if it wasn’t a phone call.”

Jeongin stops, but he’s still facing the exit. His hand rubs at his lower back, and Minho yearns to go over and support him, but he stays where he is, patient and waiting.

Jeongin sniffles, and his voice is quiet. His words are broken, but his scent now has a hint of apricot. “What are you saying?”

His heart is beating swiftly, but it’s steady. Minho clenches his hands by his side, preventing himself from stepping forward, denying himself from holding Jeongin. The sweet note to Jeongin’s scent has him hoping. The field his alpha is running through must be full of wildflowers, to explain his answering scent. “I wanted to be the one to take care of you. Me, not anyone else.”

He takes a step closer when he sees Jeongin lift his other hand to wipe at his face. “My alpha danced every time someone mistook me for your mate, the pup for ours. That night at Hyunjin’s exhibit, when Chan explained things to Minji? It was rough.”

Jeongin’s voice is muffled by the sleeve of the hoodie he’s using to scrub at his face. “So your alpha likes me.”

Reaching out his hands, Minho gently holds onto Jeongin’s shoulders and tries to turn him around so he can see his face. Jeongin is reluctant, but sniffles back his tears as he shifts his feet. He’s looking down, which won’t do, so Minho’s hand cups Jeongin’s jaw and coaxes him to lift his head. There’s a trace of tears down his cheeks, which Minho thumbs away.

“I like you,” Minho offers, the words spoken plainly. He swallows roughly as he blinks slowly. There’s a rough growl to his voice, apologetic, as he continues, “I love you. I don’t know when I started feeling this way, but I do.”

Jeongin blushes and he licks his lips nervously. His scent brightens, sweet breads and apricot danishes. Meeting Minho’s eyes, his words are as steadfast and unwavering as his gaze, “I love you too, hyung.”

Minho can feel the heat in his ears, in his cheeks, and he combats the blush with action. His hand sweeps the bangs from Jeongin’s forehead so he can lean forward and press his lips there. He closes his eyes and inhales deeply, surrounded by a mountain meadow full of wildflowers with a picnic basket packed full of bakery treats.

“Sit back down.” He gently suggests as he pulls away, “Let hyung make you dinner. Then we’ll talk some more.”

Jeongin nods. As he moves back to sit on the couch, his hand squeezes Minho’s. “Okay.”

When he closes his eyes, Jeongin can still feel the press of Minho’s lips against his forehead. He never thought he would feel such a thing. He never expected to hear those words he’d longed to hear from Minho. He’s not sure how to catalogue the feeling.

Elated, relieved, happy, tired. He could take a nap right here on the couch. Given Minho had urged him to lay down and then covered him with a blanket, that was likely what was intended.

He can’t sleep now though. It’s not the sounds of pots and pans, of a knife against a cutting board, or Minho humming as he moves about the kitchen that keeps him awake. All of that is comforting and helps him to relax. It feels like everything has returned to normal. This is what his life is meant to be like. 

Except this is better. Because Minho isn’t cooking for him because it’s their Wednesday evening routine and they live in the same building. Dinner isn’t the gesture a hyung makes for his dongsaeng. It isn’t duty or obligation compelling Minho to prepare food for him.

Minho loves him.

Jeongin isn’t sure why Minho feels that way about him, but he’s not going to let his doubts chip away his joy. He wants to call his parents. He wants to scream it from the rooftop. He wants to message Seungmin and tell him that he too needs to be brave to complete their bargain.

But first, he’s going to eat a meal with Minho, and then they’re going to talk. He knows they have much to discuss. They need to talk about what held them back from telling each other how they felt. They probably need to have a conversation about new boundaries in their relationship.

Most of all, Jeongin’s hoping that afterward, there will be time for kissing. Minho’s lips, soft and warm, held against his forehead for a brief moment was not nearly enough. He’s had a taste and now he wants the whole meal.

“Did you fall asleep on me, baby boy?” Minho asks.

Jeongin’s eyes open to a bowl of kimchi fried rice being placed in front of him, a perfectly fried egg on top. Not runny yolked as is his preference, but fully cooked, as needed for the pup. It’s garnished by sliced green onions and flakes of seaweed.

When he goes to sit up, Minho is already there, helping him to stabilize and shift into a more comfortable seated position. He beams at Minho, who sits beside him on the couch. Leaning over, Jeongin kisses his cheek, startling a noise from Minho, before Jeongin retrieves his dinner. It’s a strange and wonderful thought that he no longer has to conceal his affection. There’s heat to his cheeks, and he has to clear his throat. “Thank you for the food, hyung.”

“Eat your dinner.” There’s a gruffness to Minho’s tone, but his expression is soft, a slight smile upon his lips displaying his front teeth.

They eat quietly, which isn’t often how meals are shared between them. If Minho has as many thoughts swirling around as he does, then spending some time contemplating them all makes sense. They haven’t even turned on a show, so the only sounds are spoons against the sides of their bowls.

Jeongin’s already feeling full when he scoops up the last of the rice in his bowl. He doesn’t hesitate to finish the remaining morsel. Minho made this food for him, with love, knowing it would nourish him and the pup, and served it to him with a soft smile and eyes full of affection. He’d been blinded by his insecurities to not see how Minho felt before, or perhaps Minho had been hiding his own emotions for similar reasons.

Letting his spoon drop into his bowl with a metallic pang, Jeongin leans back into the couch and rests his hands over his truly swollen belly. “Hyung, that was delicious.”

“Are you still hungry?”

Jeongin groans. “I couldn’t eat another bite.”

Minho chuckles and eats his last few bites while Jeongin rubs his palms over his stomach. 

For the last few months, Jeongin’s been able to feel the pup move about, flutters of limbs stretching and pushing at his insides. Lately, he’s not felt as much movement, but Dr. Park said he likely wouldn't be this close to giving birth. There wasn’t much room left for the pup to move around in. At this point, when the pup did stretch, it usually resulted in an aching rib, or a jab to his kidneys or bladder. He gently pats his stomach. “I’ll be glad when you decide it’s time to leave me.”

“This next week is the last you’ll be at the school?”

“Mhmm,” Jeongin confirms. “The substitute will arrive tomorrow, and we’ll integrate her into the classes, let the students get used to her, and then I’ll be off. Dr. Park says I could deliver anytime now, but probably not for another couple weeks.”

“Can I rub your feet for you?”

If he could, Jeongin would plunk his feet right into Minho’s lap at the offer, but he’s not quite as mobile as he used to be. He slowly shifts on the couch as he lifts a leg and orients himself so he’s leaning against the arm of the couch and he can place first one leg, then the other, into Minho’s lap.

Minho laughs as his hands remove Jeongin’s slippers and he begins the foot massage. “I suppose that’s a clear enough answer.”

There had been so many clues to how Minho had felt for him. The unrelenting care provided with food and careful touches. The way Minho sought his opinion, encouraged him to speak, and always listened and respected what Jeongin had to say. Jeongin knows that bravery had him knocking on Minho’s door tonight. Just as bravery had Minho speak of his emotions, his love for Jeongin. If only he’d been brave earlier and said what he wanted, rather than casting aside what he had because he’d assumed Minho’s actions were based on a promise. Maybe then they could have been spared these last few weeks. 

Perhaps he should be the brave one now.

Jeongin clears his throat. “I’m sorry hyung. I wish I’d had more courage. That I’d told you how I felt rather than saying what I said. That I didn’t want to play house. I’m grateful that you accepted what I said, and that you left. You’ve always respected me but I hurt you, and I’m sorry.”

“Were you scared, Iyen-ah?” Minho’s words are as soothing to his heart as his fingers are to his feet as they continue to press against his soles, working the tension from the muscles.

“I was,” Jeongin admits, hesitating as he collects his thoughts, “for a few reasons. I was frightened that you were treating me this way because of a promise you’d made to Chan hyung. I was scared I was just reading into your actions and finding feelings that weren’t there. The more I thought about it, the less sense it made that you would care for me that way. I’m clumsy. I break things all the time. I can’t cook. I’m not soft spoken or agreeable like omegas are meant to be. I decided that you couldn’t like me, would never love me, and it started to hurt to be around you. The way you care for me is all I’d ever wanted, and I knew it wouldn’t last.”

Minho reaches over and takes Jeongin’s hand. “I wanted to tell you how I felt. I was going to tell you after the pup arrived. I didn’t think telling you while you were pregnant, and still reliant on me, was the right thing to do. If you didn’t share my feelings, then what were you meant to do? You needed the support, and I had made a promise. It hurt me to not tell you, but being there for you was more important than how I felt.”

“My gentle, thoughtful hyung.” Jeongin curls his fingers around Minho’s hand. “Your actions have always spoken louder than your words. I wish I’d seen you more clearly.”

“I wish you’d see yourself more clearly too.” Minho’s gaze is steadfast and earnest when Jeongin looks up from their held hands. “You question how I could care for you. You don’t know why I would, because you don’t see yourself as I do. You’re determined, persistent, and you challenge yourself because you know you can achieve your goals. You’ve shown me that there’s more ways to be strong than just physically. You’ve said you’re not like other omegas, and you aren’t. I don’t want you to regret that, or try to change who you are. I don’t want a servant. I want a partner. I want someone who knows their own mind, who is willing to defend and stand up for themselves.” Minho’s thumb brushes over the back of Jeongin’s hand, and Minho’s smile turns impish. “I want someone who is going to let me cook in the kitchen. I want someone who is willing to defend me, as you did when Sanghee found us in the grocery store. I want someone who laughs at my ridiculous jokes.” Minho pauses. He inhales. “I want you.”

Jeongin knows his cheeks are bright red. His heart is flustered by Minho’s words, but his favourite hyung has never been one to live in half measures. When Minho is committed to something, he goes all in. He doesn’t hold anything back. If Jeongin had needed proof of Minho’s feelings other than the three words he’d provided earlier, he has them now. “Hyung, I want to kiss you.”

“Have you ever known me to deny you of anything you want, baby boy?”

Jeongin sees only one way of wiping the smirk from Minho’s face. His movements aren’t graceful. Jeongin isn’t a swan at the best of times, all long limbs and ugly duckling, but the pup’s weight and the late stage of pregnancy only makes his awkwardness more pronounced. He slides his legs from Minho’s lap and clambers across the couch until he’s sitting beside Minho, their thighs pressed against each other. Tilting his head, he leans forward until their lips meet.

The kiss is hesitant, tentative, then Minho shifts beside him, the soft susurrus of their pants rubbing against each other faint over Jeongin’s gasp as the angle changes and Minho’s lips open over his. Jeongin’s lower lip is drawn between Minho’s teeth, the slight pain of nibbling teeth has Jeongin whimpering as his hand grasps at Minho’s shirt, pulling him closer. Minho presses forward, his tongue slides into Jeongin’s mouth as he consumes the whimper and other faint noises Jeongin makes. 

The spike of mountain air, cool and laden with pine sap and a hint of a meadow full of flowers fills Jeongin’s senses. He’s dizzy and overwhelmed, claimed by the press of Minho’s lips. Surrendering to his desires, Jeongin loosens the fist holding Minho’s shirt and moves his hand to Minho’s collar bone so his thumb can rub against his scent gland. He wants more, to have his thoughts devoured in a scent drunken stupor.

Minho mouths along Jeongin’s jaw to his neck. Jeongin arches into the teeth nipping at his skin, a groan escapes his lips and his own scent rises, sweet and buttery, with the tang of apricot. The teeth at his neck bite, hard enough to bruise, but not yet deep enough to pierce his skin. Jeongin closes his eyes, moaning as feels his slick, wet and slippery between his legs.

Strong hands grip at Jeongin’s shoulders, then move down his back to yank him into Minho’s lap. At the resistance, the obstacle of Jeongin’s pregnancy, Minho growls and pulls away. The iris of his eyes is thin about his wide pupils and he shakes his head and then presses his forehead against Jeongin’s. His hands are tame, sliding up and down Jeongin’s back, though his voice is rough and regretful. “The things I want to do to you, Iyen-ah.”

Harsh breath mingles between them, and Jeongin yearns to close that distance. He’s wanted this for longer than he’d imagined, and he’s tired of denying himself. “I want those things too, hyung. Please.”

Minho breathes deeply, his eyes blink slowly, and he pulls away. “Later. Not now.”

Jeongin swallows his whine and tries not to pout.

With a smirk, Minho taps on Jeongin’s forehead with a couple of fingers. “This is not how I’m going to say hello to Chan and Felix’s little girl.”

Blinking, Jeoingin strives to understand, and then a flush colours his cheeks and he clears his throat. Then his eyes widen and he smacks Minho’s shoulder. “Hyung! You can’t tell me things like this! You know I can’t keep secrets!”

“Oops,” Minho chuckles. “You’ll just have to keep me close so I can make sure you don’t slip up.”

Jeongin sighs. “I’d have kept you close anyway.”

“I’d hope so.” Minho’s expression softens, his eyes full of adoration as his hand traces along Jeoingin’s jawline. “I want to keep kissing you, but I want so much more than that. I want you, Jeongin-ah, and it’s hard to control myself.”

“And yet you do.”

“Hmm. I must,” Minho insists.

“I wish we didn’t need to,” Jeongin laments, “but I agree.”

“Be gentle with me, jagiya. Try not to tempt me,” Minho pleads. “You’ve no idea what I’ve imagined doing with you. To you.”

This is not a conversation Jeongin feels they can have in close proximity. He presses his lips to Minho’s cheek before he retreats back to the other side of the couch. “I expect it’s close to what I’ve imagined.”

Minho arches an eyebrow while carefully grasping his hands together and placing them in his lap.

Jeongin is willing to take up that challenge. “Remember the night I caught you strutting from the bathroom to your bedroom, with naught but a tiny towel around your waist?” He pauses long enough for Minho to nod, enjoying how the tips of Minho’s ears start going red. “I wanted to bite your thighs. I wanted to leave them marked up, bruised red and purple. I wanted to swallow you whole.”

He can hear Minho’s harsh swallow and Jeongin grins as the flush progresses from Minho’s ears down his neck.

“I hope you still have that dress you wore to Hyunjin’s exhibit. I felt rabid seeing you wear that. I wanted to bite your neck, leave you bloody and claimed.” Minho curses under his breath. “My alpha wanted to pin you to the wall and gnaw at your throat. The need to possess you was difficult to deny.”

“Is that so?” Jeongin’s scent flares and he bites his lip at the additional slick now coating his underwear. Minho should certainly be able to smell it now. 

“There’s a myriad of ways I desire you, Iyen-ah. Most of them aren’t gentle,” Minho admits shamefully. His head turns away, as if unable to hold Jeongin’s gaze.

“Hyung. Minho hyung,” Jeongin pleads, waiting for Minho to look at him. When their eyes meet, his voice goes soft and he extends his hand towards him. “I’m not made of porcelain. I’m not going to break. I don’t want you to always be gentle with me, not in that way.”

Minho lets their hands touch for a moment before rising from the couch to stalk towards the window, which he opens slightly. The fresh air is cool this late in the evening, and disrupts the heaviness of sweet bread and mountain forest. “I want to devour you, baby boy.”

“And I want you to,” Jeongin entreats, “I trust you. I know you’d never knowingly hurt me.”

From across the room, Minho’s hands clench into fists, knuckles white, and he stills, as if having to hold himself under tight control. As if a modicum of movement would propel him back to the couch to Jeongin’s side to begin again what they had started. “You probably shouldn’t. Trust me, that is.”

Jeongin shakes his head. “I should. All I want, all my omega wants, is to be yours. Your alpha knows that.”

He watches as Minho closes his eyes and turns to face the open window. At a guess, Minho’s trying to clear his head by escaping their scents which have filled the room so he can think and consult his alpha. Patiently, Jeongin remains on the couch. He knows he can wait. They love each other, and he trusts in the friendship they’ve had throughout the years, and the bond they’ve nurtured over the past few months. A bond he’ll spend the rest of his life nurturing and protecting.

Minho’s fists relax, and his head bows before he turns and walks back to the couch. Sitting down, he takes Jeongin’s hand again and interlocks their fingers.

“How did my dongsaeng get to be so wise?”

Shaking his head, Jeongin smiles, his eyes narrow and his dimples prominent. “It’s not wisdom. I see you, Minho hyung. I know you, and I trust myself, my omega, and the way we both want you. We trust you.”

“Think we can lie in the same bed, and kiss, and not do anything else but sleep tonight?” Minho asks, his thumb circling the back of Jeongin’s hand.

“I think we can find a way to make it work.” Jeongin sighs. “But, you’ll still have me be the little spoon, won’t you?”

Minho laughs as he rises from the couch and offers his hands to help Jeongin stand. “Baby boy, you'll always be my little spoon.” He giggles, all warm and choppy and with bunny teeth. “Besides, that’s the only way it would be comfortable, for either of us right now.”

“Yah!” Jeongin blurts out, mid laughter.

Minho can’t remember the last time he felt like this. He’s not sure he’s ever felt like this before. Happy, content and relaxed.

Relationships in the past had been a space of contention. Demands he didn’t feel adequate of filling, or expectations that he fell short of reaching. He didn’t have to worry about that with Jeongin.

They’d talked at length about their past partners. He knew what had and hadn’t worked for Jeongin. Their friendship is a solid foundation. They’re building on that. It feels new and exciting.

It hadn’t even bothered him the other day when Kim Seungmin had stopped by to visit Jeongin and spent most of the time teasing Minho for being blind for months.

Minho can feel smug about it now, having caught Seungmin in a blatant lie. Even if it had been the way Jeongin kept trying to divert his attention, or change the subject anytime Minho had asked about the project Seungmin was working on with Changbin in the studio that had tipped him off.

Jeongin’s ability to keep a secret really is appalling. He’ll definitely have to keep watch over Jeongin to ensure there’s no accidental gender reveal before the pup is born.

Minho’s surprised he hadn’t caught on to their relationship earlier. Looking back, there were times the two would arrive at events together, even though they lived on different sides of the city. Changbin is also more giggly when Seungmin’s around. The number of times Minho has excused Changbin’s cuteness aggression towards Seungmin as a a result of Changbin taking a hit to the head while boxing and never thinking of the cause. Kim Seungmin is not cute.

Jeongin on the other hand? With his squinty eyed smiles and deep dimples. His large hands and the way he protests skinship while they’re in public. The way he speaks in satoori while on the phone with his parents. His nose scrunches when he finds something distasteful. Jeongin is the epitome of cute.

Which makes it all the harder for Minho when he has to leave the apartment and head to work. That and knowing the pup could decide any day now that it was time to be born.

This morning, Jeongin had stolen all the remaining blankets and bundled himself up in them by the time Minho had finished his shower. Jeongin had barely woken when Minho went to bid him goodbye and let him know there was food waiting for him in the fridge when he left.

The slumbering murmured thank you from Jeongin had left Minho’s heart feeling warm all morning. His good mood was not at all tarnished by Redy and Jina poking fun at him for his love struck expression once he’d arrived at the studio.

For the past week and a half, Jeongin’s been resting and restless, waiting to give birth while Minho’s still going to work regularly, keeping his phone on hand rather than in his locker. He doesn’t want to miss the call.  His heart had raced every time his phone made a sound. He was encouraged to set Jeongin’s number to a different ringtone in an attempt to quell his willingness to launch into action every time someone texted or called him.

Which explains why he’s now ignoring his lunch break and rushing down the hallway after his class, frantic as he searches for Bada. If he’d known that Yongbok would be texting him to let him know that they were taking Jeongin to the hospital, he’d have looked at his phone during his intermediate hip hop class!

While he can’t find Bada, Vata stops him long enough to learn of what’s happened, and assures him that he’ll get Minho’s afternoon classes covered, and tells him to go. When Minho’s about to leave the studio, still wearing his dance outfit, Vata chases after him, turns him around and sends him to wash up and put on his street clothes before he heads to the hospital.

After arriving at the hospital, Minho checks his phone to find that Yongbok has replied to his text letting them know he’s on his way. Yongbok has also helpfully provided the details of where they are in the hospital, so Minho’s able to bypass the reception desk at the main entrance and make his way to the obstetrics floor and find the proper room.

Chan walks forward to meet him as he approaches the room. He’s dressed in scrubs, a mask is pulled away from his face, hanging off his left ear, and his hair covered by a dull blue cap.

Though Minho wants to rush into the room, the apologetic look upon Chan’s face has him worried. He almost teeters on his feet as he halts so abruptly. His heart is beating wildly, and not only with the exertion of the run to get up to the room. “Hyung, is something wrong?”

Chan blinks and then shakes his head, “No, nothing’s wrong Minho-yah. Sorry. I just wanted to help you get scrubbed in and let you know that Jeongin might try to talk you out of being there.”

Minho is relieved to hear everything’s alright, but it’s distressing to hear that Jeongin may want him to leave. “What do you mean he doesn’t want me there?”

Chan turns to lead him into the scrub room, where Minho can wash up and get dressed in a gown before they enter the delivery room. “He’s already uncomfortable, and it’s starting to hurt. He knows it will be difficult for you to see him in pain.”

Having taken off his clothes, putting on the scrubs, Minho frowns as he washes his hands, all the way from his fingertips to his elbows. The scent of the soap is unpleasant, but he knows it needs to be harsh to be sterile. “We specifically made arrangements to be at this hospital because they would allow for us to be with him during the delivery. If he doesn’t want me there, he’ll have to tell me so himself.”

It was uncommon for delivery rooms to have friends or family attend a birth, even more rare for alpha partners to be present. Yongbok had wanted to be there as it was his child being born and Chan had agreed. In Australia, it’s common to have a partner or family members in the delivery room, so they’d all worked together with Dr. Park to ensure the facility where they hoped Jeongin would give birth would accommodate them.

“I know, but you know how Jeongin doesn’t like anyone to see him suffer,” Chan assures him. “I just want you to be prepared to ease his concerns and be ready to convince him to let you stay.”

Minho nods as he dries his hands and puts on the sterile gloves before he moves into the delivery room. Yongbok is standing beside Jeongin, using one hand to wipe Jeongin’s forehead while holding his hand with the other. 

Jeongin’s face looks pinched, but he’s still able to summon a smile when he sees Minho. “Hyung.”

Minho hurries to his side and takes his other hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner, Iyen-ah.”

A pained breath hisses from between his lips before Jeongin can reply, “Dr. Park things I’ll still have an hour or two before the pup is ready to arrive.”

“That soon?” Minho does the math and doesn’t like what conclusion he arrives at. “That means you were having contractions even before I left this morning!”

“You could have worked the whole day and been back by the time I needed to go to the hospital. I called Felix hyung after you left. He and Chan hyung have been with me all day.” Jeongin explains, his fingers tightening around Minho’s as he grits his teeth when he’s done talking.

“Contractions?”

Jeongin nods jerkily as he breathes through the pain.

Minho’s brow furrows as he concentrates, letting a trickle of mountain air, dew on wildflowers, surround them. “Chan hyung said you might feel differently now about who stays in the room with you. Do you want me here?”

Jeongin’s grip on his hand becomes painful. Minho refuses to flinch or gasp at the pain. Instead, his other hand covers Jeongin’s and pats gently in reassurance. “I’ll do whatever you want, baby boy. Just tell me what you need.”

It isn’t until the contraction passes that Jeongin’s able to reply. Yongbok is passing a cool cloth over Jeongin’s forehead again. The pinched look eases from his features and the grip on Minho’s hand relents. “Felix hyung, can you give us a moment?”

Yongbok looks curious, but he steps away and presses himself into Chan’s side across the room.

Minho leans in closer, until their noses touch. “I’d like to stay here with you, Iyen-ah, but I’ll leave if that’s what you want.”

Jeongin bites his lower lip and then blushes. His voice is soft, barely audible. “You know I want children of my own some day.”

One slow blink follows another. They’ve not even had the opportunity to do more than kiss, but it sounds like Jeongin is already thinking of a possible future where they have a family. A flush rises in Minho’s cheeks and the heat of his ears tells him they’re red as well. “I do.”

“I don’t want you to see how much pain I’ll go through today and then not want me to have another child later,” Jeongin admits. He rubs the tip of his nose against Minho’s and his eyes look into Minho’s and then away, only to return to meet his gaze again.

It’s early to talk about this. They’ve been together for less than two weeks, but at the same time, Minho feels as if they’ve been working towards this for months, if not longer. The idea of building a family with Jeongin doesn’t scare him. He smiles softly and he giggles, high pitched and joyful. His alpha is howling with delight, prancing in his mountain meadow, tail high and wagging. “This pain is natural. I don’t enjoy seeing you go through it, but I understand.” Minho places a kiss on the tip of Jeongin’s nose. “When you’re ready, I’d be honoured to…help?”

The delight in Jeongin’s eyes as Minho’s blush thrives and extends down his neck to his chest has Minho rolling his eyes and huffing. “You know what I mean.”

Jeongin laughs. “Yes hyung, I know what you mean.”

Hours later, Minho is exhausted. They’ve been assigned a room, where Jeongin lays in the bed, his eyes barely open. His features are wan, but his smile is the brightest Minho has ever seen.

In a chair near the bed, Yongbok hums as he holds a bottle to his daughter’s mouth. The babe fusses as she struggles to drink the milk, but soon she settles as she latches on and is able to quench her thirst. Chan’s fingers move through Yongbok’s hair as he looks down at his mate and child with awe.

“Have you decided on a name, hyung?” Jeongin’s voice is tired and slurred.

Though he doesn’t specify which hyung he’s speaking to, Chan’s the one to answer, “Haein Charlotte. We thought she should have both a Korean and an English name.”

Yongbok looks over at Jeongin. “We’ve already worked out the hanja. Hae for Gentle, and In for Tiger, just like you.”

Minho takes Jeongin’s hand and squeezes it while watching his expression. Jeongin is blinking back tears and he swallows harshly. His voice is rough with emotion. “Hyung, that’s too much.”

“No,” Chan objects, “it’s just right. Haein wouldn’t be here without you, and her name should honour that.”

Jeongin closes his eyes, “It is a pretty name.”

Minho leans over and kisses Jeongin’s forehead. “Get some rest, baby boy.”

Chapter Text

Felix places the last of the streamers around the bannister of the staircase and he turns to look around at the rest of the room. Balloon bouquets are placed on the table, out of reach of Haein’s little, grabby hands. Large shiny metallic balloons are decorated with the number one, and rattles and storks, accompanied by smaller coloured balloons in bright colours, red, blue, yellow and green. A happy birthday banner adorns the far wall of the living room.

He’d hoped to have all the decorations set up by now, but Haein had refused to go down for her afternoon nap. She’d been fussy and Felix had to rock and walk her around the apartment for half an hour before she’d finally settled. Having learnt his lesson in the past, he continued walking around and humming to her for another ten minutes so that when he laid her down in her crib, she wouldn’t immediately wake.

It’s both hard to believe it’s been a year since she was born, and a struggle to think it hasn’t been longer. So much has happened. So much of it has changed his life in ways he hadn’t expected.

He and Chan had always wanted children. It wasn’t a question of if but when. Even now, when he thinks about how Jeongin had offered to carry a child for them, the thought can bring him to tears. Haein is their miracle.

But she’s not just a miracle for Chan and him. Felix had often imagined how well Minho and Jeongin would suit each other. Minho always took an interest in Jeongin by helping him with school, providing advice and feeding him. In return, Jeongin had looked to Minho’s example for guidance, but more than that, Jeongin had a way of getting Minho out of his own head, enjoying life and interacting with everyone, even if Minho spent most of that time being an unmitigated menace. Usually, Felix would have passed it off as a hyung and his dongsaeng interacting, but Felix could see how Jeongin admired Minho, Minho adored Jeongin, and how they seemed to innately understand each other.

While he would never meddle in their lives, he always felt it was a shame that there never seemed to be a time where they were both partnerless and provided the opportunity to see each other from a new perspective. Felix would never have asked either of them about their feelings, certain that the question alone might sway them one way or the other, when desire and attraction is something that should be felt rather than nudged.

It’s impossible to know if Minho and Jeongin would have found their way to being together without Haein, but that doesn’t even matter. They are together now, and Haein provided that new perspective by which they could see each other differently.

When Jeongin had made the offer, Felix's heart had filled with gratitude. He’d been overwhelmed. Before Jeongin’s visit, he had accepted he would never be a parent. It had been a pain tucked into his heart, surrounded by the gentle love and care his mate showed him. Chan had never blamed him for the miscarriages. He’d held Felix tightly as they cried together. Their marriage was as strong as their grief. Though Dr. Park had warned them, Felix had been stunned by his sudden jealousy. The three of them had been having dinner, and then his omega was enraged, ready to fight for what was his.

Later, he’d been ashamed of how his instincts had taken control. He felt unworthy of the sacrifice Jeongiin was making. His remorse had been quickly expressed in apologies, but he no longer regrets what happened. How could he, when the result was Minho stepping in to take care of Jeongin? 

Throughout the pregnancy, Felix had noticed things about how Jeongin interacted with Minho. The way he’d stand close to him, the fond looks of yearning when neither of them thought anyone was looking. The way Minho had shutdown, his expression stoic anytime someone questioned his relationship with Jeongin. When they’d gone to the spa, and Jeongin had blushed and swiftly changed subjects anytime Minho was brought up in conversation, though Jeongin often was the one who brought Minho back up as a topic himself.

After the Christmas gathering that year, Chan had asked if he thought something was going on. Felix figured everyone was seeing the same thing he was by that point; Jeongin and Minho may have thought they were being subtle, but they were obvious. Jeongin never allowed that much skinship, and Minho’s soft expressions anytime he looked at Jeongin were far too telling. Felix had agreed with Chan, but also made him promise not to ask. Minho and Jeongin deserved the time to sort out for themselves how or if they wanted their friendship to change.

Felix wonders at times what the others had thought of his relationship with Chan when they’d first started seeing each other. He knows his initial interest in Chan was because his accent alone assuaged his homesickness. He only fell in love after he knew him better. Having the same country of origin was a slim premise to build a relationship. He wouldn’t have blamed anyone for betting against them.

Over the years, their love has been tested. Felix doesn’t like to consider how they may have fallen apart if it wasn’t for Jeongin carrying Haein. Not so much the surrogacy, but his own jealous reaction to Jeongin’s pregnancy with their pup. Felix had put a brave face on his pain after the miscarriages and moved past it without dealing with the loss properly. Felix hadn’t wanted to talk about the pups that could have been, or his pain, and eventually he and Chan had almost stopped talking about anything important. Felix’s possessive reaction to Jeongin carrying their pup changed everything.

Felix started therapy, and in doing so, he found healing. He no longer thinks less of himself because he wasn’t able to carry their child. It’s been a journey of twists and turns, but he’s moved away from relying on his secondary gender to provide or prove his value; who he is as a person is more important than the fact he’s an omega. 

His relationship with Chan is stronger than it has ever been because Felix found the strength to talk about everything, even if it hurt him, even if it hurt Chan. They worked through their loss together. He knew the value of therapy as a concept and actively supported anyone’s decision to seek counselling, but had never understood how it could help him.

Now he’s looking forward to the end of his second semester of university where he’s working towards a psychology degree. His mother still worries that his heart is too tender to listen to people’s hardships all day, but Felix knows that if he can understand how a person feels, then he’ll be able to help them. He wants to be able to empathise with others so they can heal and their lights can shine brighter.

The hardest part of going back to school has been trying to balance his education with being a parent. While he could have applied to more prestigious schools, he’d chosen the university he attends based on the availability of correspondence and evening courses for the program. 

This let him spend time during the day with Haein while Chan worked in the studio. The evening classes started just after Haein went to bed for the day. Though she’d only recently started sleeping through the night, the timing of his classes meant he didn’t miss any of Haein’s firsts. He saw her first smile and heard her laughter. He watched her struggle to sit upright. He bit his lip, holding himself back from helping Haein as her legs wiggled and she rocked back and forth on all fours, her knees slipping as she attempted to crawl.

Chan and Felix had to travel to a pool further from their home to make the tiny tot swim class work with their schedules, but it was worth it when Haein’s chubby arms extended just far enough from her life jacket to splash water at them.

As much as he and Chan have worked to plan their lives so they can spend time with Haein, there are some schedule conflicts they couldn’t avoid. Having six uncles willing to dote on their daughter has come in handy when Felix’s exam times happen in the middle of the day and Chan’s busy working, or when there’s an evening event that they both need to attend.

When Haein was three months old, Minho and Jeongin, Changbin and Seugmin, Hyunjin and Jisung had given them a stack of redeemable babysitting tickets they could use so they could each have some time with their niece without parental supervision! The presentation of that gift had made Felix laugh and cry. He knows they all love Haein dearly, but he also appreciates that he gets to have regular date nights with Chan without having to worry about finding a qualified babysitter.

Their first Christmas as parents was a quieter one. They took a trip to Sydney to gather with family, some of whom had not yet met Haein. Upon their return, they did have the usual gathering of friends, but it was still a more restrained celebration than it had been in the past. No one wanted to disturb Haein after it had taken an hour for her to settle for her afternoon nap.

While Felix can scarcely recall what presents he or Chan had received that night, he clearly remembers opening all of Haein’s presents. Minho gave her a set of colourful building blocks. From Changbin and Seungmin, a collection of rearranged and original lullabies. Hyunjin knit a baby sweater to keep her warm over the coming months. Jisung’s gift of bath toys, full of aquatic animals, was a hit at bath time. However, Haein’s favourite remains a terror for her parents, as Jeongin thoughtfully provided a pull along xylophone.

Felix is startled from his reverie as a warm hand lands on his shoulder and pulls him backwards, another arm wrapping about his waist. It takes him only a moment, the scent of ocean breeze familiar and comforting behind him, before he relaxes against Chan’s chest.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Chan says, his lips brushing Felix’s neck. “Still need some help?”

Turning in his arms, Felix finds Chan already dressed in his gray hanbok with navy trim. He’s taken a shower since putting Haein down for her nap, having taken the time to tame his curls into submission. Chan’s scent is barely noticeable beneath the lavender verbena body wash they both use.

Felix runs his finger down the satin trim, the fabric doing little to hide Chan’s well defined chest, as he leans closer to inhale the subtle undertones of sand and ocean spray. “The dolsang table still needs to be set up. I’ll bring the food out for it myself, but the items we’d collected for it are all in the box in Haein’s closet. Could you put those around the edge of the table while I go get dressed?”

He laughs when Chan lifts himself up on his tiptoes so he can kiss the crown of Felix’s head. His murmured words tousle the strands of Felix’s hair. “Of course baby. After all the work you’ve put in, it’s the least I can do.”

Felix shakes his head, his hands resting on Chan’s waist to help stabilise him. “You say that like you’ve done absolutely nothing to help. I couldn’t do this without you.”

Chan dips his head, his tongue briefly lingers on his lower lip and a quick flush of heat spreads across his cheeks, causing Felix to laugh. Chan sighs, turns Felix towards the direction of their bedroom and gives him a little push, followed by a pat on his ass. “Go on. We don’t have forever, little one.”

Striding through the doorway of their bedroom, Felix is already pulling off his shirt and shucking his pants. His last freed leg kicks his sweatpants high enough that he’s able to catch them so he can toss them and his shirt into the laundry hamper, swiftly followed by his boxers.

Thinking about all the things left to do before their friends arrive, Felix is quick to shower, and get ready. His own hanbok is a rich blue a personal colour consultant once told him didn’t suit him well, but he loves the colour too much and chooses to ignore advice he doesn’t care for in his personal life. He’s lived too long as a victim of what other people thought was best for him, especially when it comes to fashion.

When he’s finished getting ready, he has enough time to wake Haein, give her a bottle and dress her, and put the food out before their friends arrive. If he runs a little late, it won’t be the first time they’ve had to wait to eat. At least today the food is already in the house and they’re not waiting for a poor delivery man to make their way through Seoul traffic during a snowstorm on Christmas day.

Prepared to wake Haein, Felix opened her bedroom door to find his daughter already awake and happily drinking from a bottle, her lips smacking at the nipple while she kicked her legs against the bottom of her crib. “Ah, I thought I heard you squawk after I heard Chan struggle to get the box out of your closet. You being awake and fed makes this easier for me.”

Felix fingers catches one of the kicking feet so he can tickle the bottom of it while cooing at her. Haein pulls the almost empty bottle from her mouth, dropping beside her and raising her hands up to grab at the end of the ribbon hanging down from Felix’s hanbok as he leans over her.

Quickly changing tactics, Felix picks her up and takes her over to the change table to get her into a new diaper and dress her in the jeogori he and Chan had purchased in bright spring colours. A red chima is tied about her waist. Though Felix places tarae beoseon upon her feet, he knows she’ll kick them off in no time, or leave them behind as she crawls or walks around the room. Hopefully the gulle will have better success staying upon her head.

Picking up the now suitably dressed Haein, Felix turns to leave the room in time to catch Chan passing by the bedroom door. There’s a tray full of food in his arms, and Felix isn’t sure why he’s walked this way, when Haein’s room is not in a direct path from the kitchen to the living room.

Chan stops and beams at them both. “I have the prettiest family.”

Felix shakes his head and tries not to blush, though he suspects his freckles are no longer quite so easy to see on his cheeks. “I told you I’d take care of the food.”

“Mhmm. You did,” Chan confirms, “but you were in the shower, and I figured I could help, and Haein was sleeping at the time. Then she woke up, but was happy with a bottle, so I kept walking past and checking in while moving the food over. I figured it’d be easier for you to arrange if it was all in the room.”

Felix tilts his head and looks at their daughter, “Did you hear that? That means your Appa saw me changing your diaper when he knew it was his turn, and he kept letting me do it!”

“Well, you seemed to have everything in hand.”

“And you hoped it would be a poopy diaper.”

“Well,” Chan stretches the length of the word out, and Felix knows if his hands weren’t full of a tray of food, he’d be awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck. “Maybe?”

Felix scoffs, his grunt of dismissal cast low for dramatic effect. “Then you’ll be happy to know it wasn’t poopy, but it will be your turn for the next diaper.”

As Chan sighs, Felix cackles and walks out of the bedroom.

Shaking his head, Chan follows him down the hallway. “Right. I suppose I deserve that.”

“Hyung, I love you, but you can’t avoid all the poopy diapers.” There’s a droll dip to Felix’s timbre, carrying the cadence of his laughter. “Besides, I got to deal with the poopnado last week, so you really owe me one.”

When Felix stops in the entrance way of their living room to look over all the decorations, Chan places his hands upon Felix’s waist and leans forward to kiss his nape. “I love you too, and I’ll take care of the next diaper, and won’t let you have a turn again until I change a poopy one.”

“Ah, see Haein, he really does love me.” Felix laughs, looking over his shoulder. He moves further into the room so Chan can put the tray of food down. He surveys the food Chan’s already brought out. “That’s the last of it, right?”

“Mhmm.”

Felix waits until Chan puts the food down on the table before handing over their daughter. “Alright, keep her occupied and I’ll arrange the food. Everyone should be showing up soon. It’s almost time.”

As Felix is rearranging the dishes on the table, removing lids from banchan containers and tucking serving spoons and forks alongside the food, the first of their friends arrive. He hears Chan greet them at the door, and he’s not surprised to learn that it’s Changbin and Seungmin who have arrived first. 

Looking over to greet them, he finds Changbin encircling Seungmin, Haein in his arms, as he makes attack plane noises. Seungmin sighs as he catches Felix’s gaze, and Haein is laughing gleefully as she and Changbin dive towards Seungmin, a rat-at-tat sound of incoming combat, before Changbin lands Haein safely in Seungmin’s arms and then snatching her away so she can fly again.

At first, after learning Changbin and Seungmin were together, and had been for months, Felix thought two things at the same time. The first was ‘Why did they hide this from us?’ with a concern that he wasn’t seen as supportive enough to be told. The second was ‘How did I not see how well they fit together?’ The moment he started to work out how their relationship worked, he realised that it did because they made it work. Changbin’s ability to perceive people and his casual compliments and thoughtful gestures allow Seungmin to feel seen, understood and appreciated; Seungmin’s energy and attention, chaotic and rankling as it might be, draws Changbin out of his introspection so he participates rather than experience the world around him.

With the last of the dishes set out in a pleasing manner, Felix walks over to join his friends. He stands next to Seungmin so they can watch Changbin play with Haein together. “Have things settled down?”

Seungmin’s lips pressed firmly together, the comforting library scent of old books and leather chairs turning dusty. “The press doesn’t plague us like they did after the Dispatch article.”

“I know I’ve said it before, but I’m glad you were able to tell your families before the story came out.”

“Same,” Seungmin says, followed by a sigh. “One of my upcoming films was cancelled. The producer pulled out.”

“That’s a shitty thing to do.” Felix frowns.

“It is, but I’ve had some independent film studios reach out lately.” A reserved smile crosses Seungmin’s features. “Smaller roles, but also less traditional ones. I don’t need the money, or the fame, and action movies pay and play well, but they don’t often tell stories. My agent keeps saying things will pick up after the scandal dies down, but I think I want to take on some of that work anyway.”

“Want me to look over some of the scripts or story pitches you’ve seen?”  Felix offers. He’s intrigued. “I think it’d be great to see some other stories out there than what’s expected. So few people actually live that life.”

“Exactly.” Seugnmin shifts his weight, standing taller, more confident. “Let’s meet up later this week.”

Minho and Jeongin arrive not long after. They’re still finding their house slippers as Hyunjin and Jisung show up, so they all make their way into the room together. They’re not quiet and Haein wiggles in Changbin’s arms, excited to hear voices she recognises.

“Interesting to see neither of you brought a plus one,” Chan teases as he follows Hyunjin and Jisung into the room. 

Hyunjin rolls his eyes and flips his hair back, proclaiming, “I am Jisung’s plus one.” Just as Jisung pauses to turn to Chan, points at Hyunjin and states, “I’m his plus one!”

Minho snorts in amusement as he smirks. “What I’m hearing is that neither of you are actually invited, so why are you even here?”

Jeongin stifles his honk of laughter and shakes his head. “Hyung, don’t be mean. We should be happy they’re happy.”

“Iyen-ah, I am happy they’re happy.” Minho wraps his arm around Jeongin’s waist and pulls him closer. “I can be happy for them and still tease them.”

“Hmm. I suppose that’s true.”

Chan steps between Hyunjin and Jisung, patting their shoulders. “As an invited person or a plus one, you’re both still welcome and you know it.”

Situation defused, Hyunjin walks over to greet Felix. “How long has Changbin been playing with Haein? Think he’d be willing to share yet?”

Felix laughs as he lifts himself up on his tiptoes to return Hyunjin’s hug. His nimble fingers massage at Hyuyjin’s shoulders. “You need to quit slouching so much while you’re painting. As for Haein, you’d have to ask Changbin if he’s ready to let her go. I don’t think she’s heavy enough to tire out his arms so quickly.”

While Hyunjin moves off to cajole Changbin into sharing their niece, Jisung takes his turn at receiving a Felix hug. His grunt as Felix’s thumb digs into a stiff muscle has Felix giggling and holding onto Jisung’s weight as a lighter scent of cheesecake tickles his nose along with the hair at Jisung’s nape as Felix finds he’s now holding more weight than he’d planned. “Everything alright Jisung?”

“I think so. Finally got a good night’s sleep last night.”

“You and Chan both. That last project had you all burning the candle at both ends.” Felix looks over with concern at Changbin. While Changbin doesn’t wrestle with insomnia as Chan does, or anxiety like Jisung, even his eyes look a little puffy and tinted with lack of sleep. “Hyung was saying it’ll be a week or so before you have to dig into your next contract, right?”

“Don’t remind me. A week doesn’t seem long enough right now,” Jisung whines, “I love the work, but I also need the rest.”

“You deserve it. You all do.” Felix steps back as he lets Jisung go. “At least Haein’s mostly sleeping through the night these days. Chan has enough issues sleeping as it is.”

Jisung nods, but his attention seems to be focused more on Hyujin’s attempts to pester Changbin into handing over Haein, his eyes fixed upon him with fondness

“Things are going well with you and Hyunjin?” Felix keeps his tone subdued. He’s confident of what Jisung will reply, but the answer hasn’t always been favourable in the past.

He watches as Jisung smiles, his cheeks rosy as he shifts his weight and his hands hide within the wide sleeves of his handbok, fingers gathering the edges. “They are. I never thought we’d get here. We still fight sometimes. But don’t all couples? The difference is that we’re fighting for each other, not with each other. Even when we’re angry or frustrated, we both want the same thing. To be together. To be happy.”

Felix reaches out to squeeze Jisung’s hand. “I’m glad. You deserve all the happiness. You both do.”

Jisung leans closer to knock their shoulders together. “I’m going to add our items to the table. Then I’m going to go save Haein before Changbin and Hyunjin start fighting over her.”

Laughing for a moment, Felix sways against Jisung’s side. They both know that Changbin and Hyunjin would never come to blows, and certainly wouldn’t do anything that might harm Haein. He follows Jisung with his eyes as he approaches the others. Seungmin’s laughing, watching the antics as Changbin continues his circling fighter plane manoeuvres around Hyunjin who reaches out as if to steal Haein who keeps dodging away, the room full of her giggles.

Felix watches Jisung saunter over to the others, smooth as he wraps his arm around Hyunjin’s waist and pulls him to his side. It’s a contrast Felix is becoming used to seeing, the tall lanky artist and the soulful poet musician. Some might say they met at the wrong time. That they could have avoided the animosity of their youth if they’d only met later in life. Felix would disagree; the sweetness of their relationship now could only follow the fractious beginning. They had seen the worst of each other, compelled it out by taunting words. They had studied one another so they could pierce the armour and stab one another with the sharpest of blows.Without such a past, they couldn’t choose now, day after day, to be vulnerable and trust they would be safe doing so. 

He smells apricot danish before he hears Jeongin approach to stand next to him. “Do you think they even remember why they fought in the first place?”

“The specifics? No.” Felix looks over at Jeongin and chuckles as a dimple winks into existence on Jeongin’s cheek. “They remember why they felt the need to fight, but not what caused them to first argue. I think they don’t really care to try to remember.”

“No, probably not.”

Jeongin steps closer, their shoulders meet, and Jeongin lets his head rest upon Felix’s, though he’s no longer looking at Hyunjin and Jisung, his gaze upon Minho and Chan, still talking by the entrance to the room.

Even six months ago, Felix knows Jeongin would not have stood so close to him. It had taken time to rebuild their relationship. Instincts are hard to overcome, and while Felix hadn’t physically attacked Jeongin, he knows that if Chan hadn’t been so quick to act, he likely would have. Patience and being open with his feelings had mended their friendship.

Which is why he felt safe to turn and wrap his arms around Jeongin, resting his chin upon the crux of Jeongin’s neck. It was a shock to have Jeongin wince and flinch away and Felix was quick to lower his arms and step back. “I’m sorry Jeongin-ah.”

Try as he might to keep a neutral expression, he knows he failed by how quickly Jeongin is to move closer to him and take his hands. “Hyung, no. It’s not you. My neck’s sore. I must have slept on it wrong.”

Felix holds Jeongin’s hand and starts to lead him over to a nearby chair. “Have a seat. I’ll give you a quick massage.”

To his astonishment, Jeongin baulks, refusing to follow and letting his hand slip out of Felix’s hold. When Felix looks at him, Jeongin’s cheeks are a bright red and he’s looking over to where Minho and Chan were talking. Glancing in that direction, Felix finds Minho focused on Jeongin, his gaze full of concern, but also possessive, if the clenching of Minho’s jaw and the white knuckles of his fist are any indication. “Jeongin-ah, is everything alright?”

Jeongin looks away from Minho. As Felix watches, the flush extends from Jeongin’s cheeks down his neck and to the tips of his ears. Jeongin dips his head and shuffles from one foot to the other. “Everything’s fine, hyung. It’s just…a massage wouldn’t help.”

Raising his head, Jeongin looks over at Minho again, who gives him a small shrug and an inscrutable smile which Felix can’t read, but Jeongin obviously can as he responds to the gesture with a sigh. “We didn’t want to take away from Haein’s big day. Minho hyung and I, that is.” Jeongin says as he leans closer while turning to face away, his back to the rest of the room. With his hand he pulls the collar of his hanbok aside to reveal a still healing bite on his scent gland.

“Oh…” Felix blushes and then giggles, leaning against Jeongin. Though it wasn’t common for omegas to have mating bites these days, and not traditional for alphas to receive a mating bite in return, he knows their relationship is neither common nor completely traditional. “I’ll be careful if I hug Minho hyung later.”

He laughs as Jeongin squirms and any still displayed skin reddens in colour. “Hyung!”

Felix pulls Jeongin into a hug, careful of which shoulder he hooks his head on this time. “Congratulations. I’m happy for you both. I would have thought you’d get married first though.”

“We still might later. Hyung said he’d go through with the ceremony if needed, but he doesn't share my faith. We’ve been talking about it for a while now and decided we didn’t need a big celebration, or a piece of paper to define us. We didn’t even really need the bite, but…”

“It’ll be a great fashion statement once it’s healed.” Felix flashes him a grin.

Jeongin groans and pushes away from him. “I’m going to place our items on the table. Then maybe if our hyungs can quit picking up Haein, she can tell us all what her future might have in store.”

Felix laughs, and he’s wiping tears from his eyes as Chan wraps his arm around his waist, pulling him closer. “Thought you might fall down, you’re laughing so hard.”

Stabilizing himself against Chan, his small hand pressed against the muscles in Chan’s forearm, he tilts his head to find Minho looking at him with an arched brow. “Congratulations, hyung.”

Chan looks perplexed and Felix giggles as Minho blinks slowly as his ears turn a deep maroon.

Minho clears his throat and gives Felix a pointed look. If it were anyone else, there might be mention of Kleenexes or the proper temperature setting for an air fryer. “We’ll talk about this more next week.”

Swallowing his laughter, Felix nods. “I’ll look forward to it.”

Chan’s brow is furrowed, his eyes glancing between Felix, Minho and over to Jeongin before his expression clears and he smiles with his whisker dimples. “Felix will bake a cake.”

Minho rolls his eyes before he huffs and heads over to Jeongin, He entangles their fingers together, his hand almost disappearing from view, hidden by Jeongin’s palm.

“It’s about time,” Chan murmurs, his lips teasing the curve of Felix’s ear.

“Mhmm.”

Felix steps away, sliding his hand down Chan’s arm to tug at his hand so he’ll follow. Now that he’s closer, he can see all the items added to the lower tier of the table. The food is placed on the higher tier, out of reach of Haein’s curious hands. There are bold greens, reds, orange and yellows from the various fruits and vegetables. Various grilled meats and seafood are at the center of the table on a warming plate. Various banchan fill the remaining space, japchae, a bowl of tteokbokki, a platter of jeon and red bean filled rice cakes.

On the outer edge, lay the items which Chan placed earlier: a clip of won, a small notebook with a treble clef on the cover and a toy stethoscope. The first is something they both want for Haein to have as she comes of age; the security of having enough wealth to be comfortable. The other two items represent items that might speak to her following either of their career choices in the future. Felix had considered adding a Louis Vuitton silk scarf instead, but Chan had insisted he was more than his modelling career. While Felix still believes being a model moulded him in many ways and he wouldn’t be who he was without it, he quickly admitted that it wasn’t a future he wanted for their daughter.

The other items on the table are new, brought by their friends as representations of their own lifes, and their wishes for Haein. There’s a mixtape which Felix knows Changbin brought based on the handwriting and that means the guitar pick is from Jisung. The paintbrush can only be from Hyunjin. Jeongin brought a chalkboard eraser, while Minho’s contribution was a child pair of ballet slippers.The playbill is from Seungmin’s last stage appearance. Each couple had brought an additional item for paths they hadn’t taken, though Felix isn’t sure which pair the gavel or calculator came from. The spatula is obviously Minho and Jeongin’s contribution.

Chan tugging him against his chest and then wrapping his arms around his waist pulls Felix out of his sentimental thoughts.

“Were you about to cry?” Chan's amusement is clear in his hushed words.

Felix sniffles and blinks the moisture from his eyes. “No, of course not.”

Chan laughs and sways them back and forth while they watch their friends play with Haein. They’ve formed a circle around her, each holding a toy, trying to see who can cajole her into walking towards them. There seem to be some rules to the game, as there’s muttering about cheating, and how using scents is off limits. Seungmin keeps leaning over to poke and prod at Changbin, who finally reacts, pulling Seungmin down to wrap an arm around his neck. “Shall we interrupt them and see what item Haein will choose from the table?”

Felix shakes his head as he leans against Chan. “They’re all having fun, and no matter what future Haein has, it will be filled with love and support. I’m not in a hurry to make her choose.”