Chapter Text
Mark was lucky. At least that’s what his alpha always told him.
Other omegas with his skill set, or lack thereof in his case, would have been sold to a whore house years ago. He was reminded of his good fortune every morning when he returned home from his shift and handed over his paycheck to his loving alpha. If he had particularly good fortune, his alpha would reward him with a protein bar for his hard work. He had no illusions, however, that he was treated well. He knew that life shouldn’t be this way. In America, he had had a family pack that loved and took care of each other. But South Korea was different— especially when you were a purchased omega— a work horse.
Objectively, he knew that not all Alphas were like his, but he also knew that he would be with his alpha until the day one of them died. And if his alpha went first, he would be put right back on the black market. He wasn’t good for anything else, after all. And if his alpha died and he was put back on auction then that meant that his sweet dongsaeng would be sold off too, and the chances of the auction house caring enough to not separate a bonded pair of omegas were slim to none. So Mark took as best care of his alpha as he could, because as much as he was horrible, he allowed the two of them to nest in their tiny shared bedroom when they weren’t pleasing him and he knew that separating them meant that neither would do anything.
Mark had been alone when he had first been purchased by his alpha. So scared and confused as he was thrown into what would become his nest, unsure of what the man had said. He didn’t know any Korean— had never had a need to learn it before.
But he learned fast with Alpha.
He learned the words ‘Alpha’, ‘Master’, ‘Come here’, ‘Please me’, and, his least favorite, ‘Punishment’ in the first few weeks. He had picked up a few more words and phrases over the following months before Alpha decided that he wasn’t enough and purchased a second omega.
The omega was from Thailand, didn’t know a lick of Korean and was so, so young. The second Alpha tugged him through the front door by his leash, Mark knew that he would die to protect this boy. He gently led the shaking omega into his nest after Alpha had properly ‘welcomed’ him into his new home.
Mark had gathered the boy in his lap, letting him rub his nose along the column of his throat in comfort until his shuddering gasping breaths had faded into soft stuttering hiccups. The baby omega pulled away slightly, eyes glistening as he stared up at Mark in cautious hope.
He pointed to himself. “Mark,” he said, slowly and clearly.
The boy gave him a watery smile, pressing his face back into Mark’s chest as he mumbled, “Bambam,” before saying something in his language that Mark couldn’t understand.
“Do you know Korean?” he asked in horribly broken Korean. When Bambam pressed his face further into Mark’s chest he tried again. “Chinese?” Bambam gave him the same reaction, this time whining softly. “English?” he tried, jumping slightly when Bambam’s head shot up in excitement.
“Know English— some,” he declared a bit brokenly but Mark beamed in response.
“Everything will be okay, Bambam,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the younger’s wet cheeks. “I will take care of you. Promise.”
And he did. Bambam was Mark’s entire universe and he would die before he let anything happen to the younger omega. It was why he always held Bambam close any chance he got, massaged the younger’s shoulders when he returned from the warehouse their alpha had gotten him employed at, rubbed his stomach through the aching cramps caused by their suppressants. The one thing their alpha despised more than physical labor was dealing with an omega’s pesky heat so putting his omegas on cheap suppressants and sending them to work under the guise of being betas killed two birds with one stone. And he could still use them to his heart’s content whenever he so desired because their pleasure or comfort didn’t affect his.
Their main language between the two of them, only when safely enclosed in their little nest because Alpha got terrifyingly angry when he didn’t know what they were saying, was English, though every morning when Mark returned from his shift at the grocery store he brought with him a smuggled breakfast and a new word.
As much as Mark should have despised his situation, he couldn’t help but be thankful for it. Without having been sold into slavery and bought by his alpha, he would have never met Bambam and Mark couldn’t imagine his life without his baby. And he was also thankful for his job because once he had gotten his job at the grocery store, he learned new words: ‘stock’, ‘clean it up’, and, his favorite, ‘good work today, Mark-ah’.
It was those little phrases of praise that he always brought home to Bambam, doing his best to teach the younger a new word or phrase every day, especially since, more often than not, Bambam had to work in silence at the warehouse so he never got a chance to learn Korean outside of Mark. And Mark took it upon himself to teach Bambam the best bits of the language.
A few months after he had started at the grocery store, a new shift manager was hired on. The new manager came to work bright and cheerful every day, always going out of his way to greet everyone on shift— including Mark. That had shocked the omega at first, having grown used to being ignored for the most part after he got his assignment for the night and only really picking up words from passing customers and coworkers as they interacted with each other around him.
But Jackson was different. He always stopped to talk to Mark, not that Mark ever really responded beyond a slow and stuttered ‘thank you’. It surprisingly didn’t take Jackson long to pick up on the fact that Mark never answered him because he didn’t understand the question. One night, Jackson was leaning up against the shelf as he watched Mark stock some boxes when he suddenly asked, “Do you speak Chinese?”
Mark dropped the cereal box in his hands, eyes wide as he stared up at Jackson in shock. The younger man simply raised an eyebrow, soft smile never leaving his face as he waited for an answer. Slowly, Mark nodded his head, clearing his throat as he replied with a hoarse “yes.”
Jackson beamed at that, immediately springing into a tale about his home country that Mark listened to with rapt attention, soaking up the familiar language like a cat in the sun.
It was easy to talk to the younger man after that. Jackson was all bright smiles and funny anecdotes. He liked to crouch down on the ground next to Mark as he stocked, helping the elder while he told him about his memories of China and things that happened with his pack every day. Mark loved hearing about Jackson’s pack, the beta always got this soft, endeared look whenever he spoke about one of his members. His stories about his alphas, Jinyoung and Youngjae, made Mark long for that kind of closeness with his own alpha, or maybe just a whole different alpha entirely. So long as he could keep Bambam it didn’t really matter, if he was honest with himself.
Mark cautiously opened up about his own pack and his life before Seoul, carefully avoiding mentioning how, exactly, he got to Korea or about his alpha or where he came from. He talked a lot about Bambam though. He couldn’t help but talk about his sweet dongsaeng any chance he had since the younger was quite literally his entire world.
The first time he mentioned Bambam was completely by accident though. Mark hadn’t intended to mention the younger boy to Jackson at all but when the beta sidled up next to him, all broad shoulders and eye smiles as he asked, “Penny for your thoughts?” Mark couldn’t stop the jumbled question from escaping his lips.
“Do you—” he started, keeping his eyes firmly on the shelf he was wiping down. “How do you say ‘I love you’ in Korean?”
Jackson chuckled, releasing some of that warm summer sun scent into the otherwise empty grocery aisle to ease the tension pulled taut through Mark’s shoulders. “Got a sweetie back home, Mark?”
“My— Bambam. My Bambam,” Mark stuttered, scrunching his nose when the reply spilled from his mouth without his consent. “He’s— I want to teach— tell him that I love him.”
The beta’s scent grew warmer, sticking to Mark’s skin like the heat from the sun. He gently used two of his fingers to guide Mark’s chin up to face him. “Saranghae.”
After that, it was easier to open up to the younger man about his baby— his Bambam. Jackson always looked so absorbed in whatever Mark talked about any time he found the courage to speak. He asked questions about Bambam and their alpha, whether or not there were others, wanting to get to know Mark’s pack better.
“What about your alpha?” Jackson asked, cocking his head curiously. “You never really talk about them.”
Mark shrugged, looking down at the pasta he had been stocking. “Alpha— alpha is busy a lot, so... I don’t really know him very well,” he finally admitted, fingers nearly crushing the fragile noodles before Jackson gently pried them from Mark’s hand.
“So he uproots you from your home country— you and Bambam— and then is too busy for you to even know enough about him to share with me? He— has he even marked you yet?”
The omega froze, swallowing around the lump that was quickly forming in his throat. “No,” Thankfully, “He’s waiting for— an anniversary, I think.”
“I want to keep my options open,” Mark’s alpha had once said. “Don’t want to be saddled with a useless omega if a better, newer model comes along, now do I?”
Jackson hummed unhappily, gently wrapping his hand around Mark’s skeletal wrist to encourage the elder to look at him. “I’m glad he hasn’t,” he admitted. “I talked to my pack and— I’d like to court you— you and Bambam.”
Mark’s mouth opened, ready to catch flies as he blinked at Jackson in confusion. “You... want to court me? And Bam?” he asked, completely flustered. “...Why?”
It was the beta’s turn to look confused, gently pulling Mark off of the floor and into the break room where they could have a bit of privacy. “You deserve better, Mark,” he murmured, gently cupping the elder’s cheeks between his palms. “And your alpha is clearly not ready for a pack. I’m terrified of the idea of him getting a hold of an omega. He can’t even take proper care of his betas.”
Mark bit his lip, looking down at the ground to avoid making eye contact with the beta in front of him. “He— I don't think he intends to expand our pack further.”
Jackson frowned, not liking the way Mark hedged around the subject. He sighed, reaching over to ruffle the elder’s hair. “Okay,” he relented, saving the topic for a future date. “We won't talk about your alpha anymore tonight.” He pulled Mark over to a set of chairs, passing the tiny omega a bento Jaebum had made for him and his tiny little courtee. “Hyung made this for you,” he said, switching to Korean as he reached out to pinch Mark’s cheek.
“For me?” The omega whispered in awe, staring down at the food in shock. At Jackson’s nod of encouragement, Mark slowly brought the chopsticks up to his mouth, his eyes unintentionally closing as he moaned. “This is so good,” he groaned, diving back in for another mouthful. "Very... tasty," he tried, opening his eyes again to check with Jackson whether or not he got the words right.
The younger nodded proudly, watching Mark eat with a fond expression. The omega ate ferociously, as though he hadn’t had a proper meal in weeks. Judging by his gaunt, hallowed face and ill fitting work uniform, Jackson assumed that that wasn’t too far off from the truth.
When the food was halfway gone, Mark paused, staring down at it in worry. “Can— would it be okay if I took the rest of this home, Jackson? I’ll— I’ll wash it and bring it back tonight, I promise!”
Jackson frowned, “Of course you can, sweetie. Are you full?”
He shook his head, carefully sealing the bento again. “I— yes. But— I want to share it with Bambam.”
“That’s fine, Mark,” Jackson replied, smiling once he understood the elder’s reasoning. “Next time, I’ll tell Jaebum to make enough for Bambam too, yeah?”
Mark’s eyes widened, “Oh no— that’s alright, Bammie and I can share. I mean— you don’t have to make anything for either of us. I—”
“I want to,” Jackson interjected gently. “And Jaebum wants to, too. It would make him very happy to know that you and Bambam are well fed with his cooking.”
“But— he hasn’t even met us.”
Jackson grinned, reaching out to gently pinch Mark’s cheek. “But he wants to— especially since I can’t stop talking about you to my pack. They’re all incredibly fond of the two of you already. And besides— I’m sure hyung will stop in soon to deliver you dinner in person. He wants to experience your meadow scent for himself.”
Mark blushed, ducking his head to hide it in his hands. “A meadow?”
The beta’s grin softened, “It’s really subtle, like someone pressed a bunch of different flowers in a book and the pages held onto some of their scents.” He rubbed the back of his neck guiltily. “It leaves me craving more every time I smell you. I want to know all of the flowers in your scent, Mark,” he admitted.
The elder hummed, whining softly when Jackson gently pried his hands away from his face to hold them in his own. “I didn’t know,” he mumbled. “Bambam always just says I smell like a flower.”
Jackson smiled sadly. “Mogchoji,” he murmured. “That’s what you smell like in Korean.”
Mark grinned, repeating the word a few times before Jackson regrettably sent him back to work.
It became routine for the two of them. Every day on Mark’s break, Jackson would pull him into the break room and hand him a bento, tucking a second one in with Mark’s coat before spending their conjoined break talking about anything and everything. Jackson always watched Mark eat fondly, slowly teaching him phrases in Korean to help the elder boy assimilate better.
Every time Mark learned a new word, his scent spiked, just a little, his muted meadow filling the air of the tiny break room, much to Jackson’s immense pleasure. It worried Jackson, how muted Mark’s scent was, but, he hoped, that was due to the elder’s gender rather than something more severe. He knew that his scent, personally, was hard to pin down a description for and that was largely due to his beta nature, though, looking at his pack, most of them didn’t conform to any social or gender roles and that didn’t mean that their scents were hard to pick up, like Marks, just hard to place or put into words.
But Mark was always just so happy to learn a new word or phrase that Jackson could never force himself to ask the elder about his worrying lack of scent for fear of ruining his good mood. When they got back to work, Jackson always took a few minutes to teach Mark the hangul written on whatever he was stocking at that time, helping him sound out the words. His smile whenever he got the pronunciation correct was blinding.
Mark got good at keeping the bento hidden in his coat when his alpha picked him up from work each morning, giving the elder man his required attention before he was allowed to escape to his nest where Bambam inevitably was. The younger omega didn’t have to work as often as Mark did, having been the shiny, new toy for their alpha, he was required more often for him than the elder was. Bambam always clung to Mark the second he crawled into their nest, wrapping his arms around his packmate tightly, crying in broken English how much he had missed him. As the months progressed, and Mark came home with a smuggled home cooked meal and a new word for the younger each morning, his tears gradually turned into excitement.
Bambam loved hearing about Jackson and his pack, always attentive as he ate Jaebum’s dinner meticulously. “I want to meet them,” he murmured, curled up against Mark’s chest, his nose brushing gently against Mark’s scent gland. “I want them to court us. As long as we’re together.”
Mark squeezed the younger tighter to him, kissing the top of his head. “It’s you and me forever, Bambam.”
Mark got to meet Jaebum and Youngjae together one night, the two having finally decided to take the plunge and deliver Mark and Bambam’s dinner in person instead of through their beta. Jaebum grinned widely as he stepped up to Mark, giving the elder ample time to see him coming before he stopped in front of him.
They didn’t say much, the language barrier making the conversation a bit stilted but with Jaebum’s strong, dewy, forest scent permeating the air, reminding Mark of spring and new life and second chances, all encompassing and safe, and Youngjae’s autumn forest floor, crunchy leaves and crisp air, he felt like, when they left, he already knew everything he ever needed to know about them. The smile didn’t leave his face until his alpha came and picked him up that morning.
When Mark was back in the nest, wrapped around Bambam with the younger’s head lodged firmly in his hair where some of Jaebum’s and Youngjae’s scents still clung, he sang their praises. “They really do want to court us,” he admitted softly.
“Us? Really? But why?”
Mark shrugged, nuzzling their noses together. “I don’t know. But— maybe they can... maybe this, right here, won’t be our forever. Jackson is... good, I think. And Jaebum and Youngjae were so... safe. I think— if they were to buy us off of Alpha that— that we’d be... better taken care of— at least.”
Bambam frowned, pulling back to look Mark in the eyes. “But don’t they think we’re betas?”
The elder sighed, gently pulling Bambam back into his chest. “I’m just dreaming, Bambam. It’s nice sometimes— to think about the ‘could be’s’.”
“But it’s sad,” Bambam mumbled. “I like to think about the ‘now’. When I’m with you is when I feel safe and happy, Mark. We don’t need anyone else.”
Mark had been feeling... off, as of late. Worse than usual. He wasn’t sure what exactly was wrong with him but he constantly felt wound up and wrung out; his brain just would not let him rest. Even with Bambam curled against his chest, Mark could not settle down enough to sleep himself. And then there was the pain; full body aches that pulled every single one of Mark’s muscles taut, cramps that twisted his intestines so badly he could barely stand up straight, headaches that pierced through his skull like an icepick. But he couldn’t say anything.
His alpha wouldn’t care— as long as Mark wasn’t actively dying he refused to acknowledge his omega’s health. And he wouldn’t dare tell Bambam. The younger would just worry endlessly if Mark even uttered a word about not feeling well.
Bambam picked up on his lethargy anyways, tucking Mark against his chest any chance he could, pressing his cool winter scent against his skin as a way to sooth the elder. Before he left for work that night, Bambam whined softly, nosing up and down Mark’s scent blocked neck.
“Hyung,” he whispered, using the new honorific Mark had taught him a few weeks ago. “You should stay here tonight. You’re sick.”
Mark shook his head, pulling back to kiss the younger’s cheek softly. “You know Alpha won’t let me. I’ll be okay, Bammie. Jackson will be there tonight.”
Bambam pouted, “I want to meet him. And Jaebum and Youngjae and all of the rest of them.”
“And you will,” Mark promised, biting the inside of his cheek when his migraine throbbed painfully behind his eyes, making him see spots. “I’ve got to go, baby,” he mumbled, giving Bambam one more kiss before crawling out of their nest. “Or Alpha will get angry.”
Mark nearly made it all the way through his shift without alerting Jackson to his dismal state. He knew that the second the young beta realized how unwell he was, he would insist on driving him home and Mark could not let that happen. Not only would his alpha be absolutely livid, but Mark also couldn’t afford his alpha finding out that he was sick and deciding that the omega was no longer useful to him. Mark would die before he was separated from Bambam so he did his best to pretend like he wasn’t one wrong step from collapsing in the middle of the canned goods aisle.
Jackson kept an annoyingly close watch on him all night. It was like the younger male had a sixth sense for ill-Mark and had hovered over the elder any chance he could. When it was their break time, Jackson pulled Mark into the break room firmly, sitting him down at the table and heating up their dinner that Jaebum had sent him with.
Mark tried to refuse it, claiming that he had had a large meal before coming into work but Jackson just raised an eyebrow in challenge and placed the container on the table in front of the smaller man. Between the migraine still pulsing through his skull and the cramps that had kicked up a few hours into his shift, Mark’s body was in fight or flight mode, which resulted in his stomach deciding he was going to be dizzyingly nauseous for the foreseeable future. This proved to be problematic when the kind, stubborn beta in front of him insisted on him eating. He did so, trying to keep his heavy breathing unnoticeable between each bite, not that he was very successful when, halfway through the, admittedly, delicious meal, Jackson took the chopsticks from his fingers and brought his own hand up to the elder’s forehead.
“You don’t have a fever,” he mumbled, brow furrowed adorably as his hand slid down to cup the back of Mark’s sweaty neck. “Mark-hyung— what are your symptoms?”
The elder tried to pull away unsuccessfully which only made Jackson’s frown deepen. “I’m— There’s nothing wrong with me, Jackson,” he stuttered out, one of his shaking hands making their way up to grasp around the beta’s wrist desperately. “I’m completely fine.”
Jackson sighed, leaning forward to press his nose to the skin of Mark’s neck lightly, careful not to scent the elder as he took a deep breath of Mark’s soft, faint flowery scent. “You even smell sick, hyung,” he complained, switching back to Korean in his worry as he pulled back to examine the elder’s reaction carefully.
“I’m fine, Jackson,” the omega stated firmly, using his own limited knowledge of the language to try to convince the younger. “I’m going to get back to work now.” He stood up, catching himself with the table when the sudden movement made him lightheaded. Jackson reached out, steadying him with a large hand on his hip before Mark pulled away and made his way towards the door.
He lasted another hour after that before, as he was standing up from stocking a bottom shelf, the vertigo reared its ugly head with a vengeance, painting white across his vision before he was falling backwards, unable to catch himself. Black replaced the blinding white when his skull cracked painfully against the tile of the supermarket. He vaguely registered the sound of panicked footsteps before Jackson’s worried face appeared above him, glittering in and out of existence as he tried to fight back the darkness swarming at the edges of his vision.
“Hyung—” Jackson gasped, his hand reaching down to cup behind Mark’s head before pulling away with a hiss. “Shit— you’re bleeding. I’m calling an ambulance.”
“No,” Mark breathed, feeling as though Jackson were tying a noose around his neck with those words. “Please— no hos’tal.” It was Alpha's number one rule. Under no circumstances should Mark or Bambam ever receive medical treatment or reveal their true gender to anyone. If Mark ended up in the hospital his alpha would get rid of him for sure. He felt tears well up in his eyes, pushing through the disorientation to grasp feebly at the front of Jackson’s shirt as the younger brought his phone up to his ear. “Ja’son— please no— no hospital. Not— I don’t want to—”
Jackson’s face crumpled, using the hand not holding his phone to gently brush back Mark’s bangs. “It’ll be alright, Mark-hyung,” he murmured between answering the dispatch operator’s questions. “I’ll stay with you. You won’t be alone.”