Chapter Text
"are you serious?"
yeonjun's brows are drawn in, his body poised in a forward lean, as if posturing. no windows illuminate the tiny, gray room. just a flickering fluorescent on the ceiling. plastered on the wall beside his head is a strangely colorful depiction of scent gland anatomy, each layer labelled with impersonal black lines. yeonjun knows it well — he had spent plenty of time studying similar images over his last few years' worth of textbooks.
a small part of him despises the doctor's office. an even smaller part of him knows that the hatred stems from his own shame — his own inferiority — and he can never seem to admit that to himself.
"i'm afraid so, yeonjun-ssi," the doctor — a relatively young female beta with round little glasses perched on her nose — says. "we have no control over the prices these days. it's the insurance companies and the suppliers."
and well, yeonjun doesn't want to fault her. he really doesn't. but this is quite frankly the last straw, after the day he's had.
he can't help the hiss that laces his words. "but not even twice — no, four times as much? for heat suppressants?"
the way she winces shouldn't be so satisfying. "i really am sorry, yeonjun-ssi," her eyes are round, sympathetic, but yeonjun can only think about how she can't understand. she can't possibly understand. "heat suppressants just aren't a necessity. in fact, a lot of scientific research has shown that they cause long-term damage when overused."
scientific research my ass, yeonjun thinks petulantly. "i'm a student and full-time waiter," his tone is nearly accusatory. "what the fuck am i supposed to do, take an entire week off from work? i can't afford to do that!"
"it's just the way things are," the doctor replies simply, and yeonjun wants to scream. "you can get a friend to cover for you, or take out a loan if you're struggling to pay expenses."
it's not that easy.
it's really not.
he's deliberately avoiding telling her the truth, the truth about his double shifts, his overtime, lack of sleep, caffeine addiction. yeonjun isn't weak; he knows he can handle it. if only his heat suppressants weren't suddenly costing nearly three fourths of his salary.
"what about suppressants that are less strong?" he asks desperately. "there have to be other brands. i – i can switch my insurance and --- "
sadly, the doctor shakes her head. "it's all the same, yeonjun-ssi. every brand has gone up in price except for the strongest variety."
yeonjun opens his mouth—
"you won't be able to get approval," the beta cuts him off before he can speak. "your body — it's showing signs of atrophy and anemia. you take too many suppressants already, yeonjun-ssi. i was actually about to recommend you go off of them altogether."
it's a guttural, visceral reaction that feels like a punch in the stomach at the mere thought of having a heat. yeonjun can't have a heat, he can't, he can't be in that impossibly vulnerable state of mind. that cloudy, awful, and painfully humiliating breeding haze.
dread swallows down his throat, and he begins to feel a bit faint.
"no, no, you don't understand, i have to take suppressants, i can't – "
"yeonjun-ssi," the beta says firmly. "nothing bad will happen if you go into heat. the first one might be strong, because you haven't had one in a long time, but you'll be perfectly fine."
fuck. oh my god.
on the verge of panicking, yeonjun staves off the tears that dare to spill.
"i'll write you a prescription for cramps. that will be all. we're done here," without looking at him, the doctor gathers her clipboard and bustles away, leaving the door to loudly click shut with finality behind her.
yeonjun's world crumbles.
+×+
"you're early!" huening kai bounces into the back room of the cafe joyfully, his voice pitching into an ear-piercing screech.
in the middle of changing into his work uniform, yeonjun immediately covers his half naked form. “close the door, dammit!”
to say that yeonjun hates his job would be an understatement, but, well, as one of his previous conversations with the exuberant beta had brought to light, he willingly continues to work there.
(“if you hate it so much, why don’t you quit?” it was closing time, the sky was dark overhead, and kai was emptying the display case of the cake slices leftover from that day.
yeonjun couldn’t help but notice how his best friend didn’t meet his gaze, staring somewhere far off, unreadable.
“it pays the bills,” came the omega’s reluctant reply.
kai had only hummed, a small sound of understanding, but it was shallow, leaving yeonjun to wonder what else the younger must have wanted to say. despite the unfinished words between them, the conversation had ended there, just like their shifts.)
it pays the bills. the statement was one-hundred percent true, unfortunately. when yeonjun had seen the help wanted flier with a phone number and promised paycheck, he must have missed the fine print, too caught up in the number of zeros printed on the bottom of the page. he had gotten the job instantly, and stupidly never questioned why the owner had taken one look at his face and signed him.
the pink and white decorations should have given it away, especially the little menus written with i’s dotted with cutesy hearts. yeonjun had assumed it would be an ordinary restaurant gig, perhaps a bit more peaceful considering its label as a cafe.
he should have known no ordinary restaurant job would pay that well.
now, as yeonjun changes into his frilled light blue apron and bow tie, over a ruffled skirt that is way too short, he deeply regrets his naivety. at least i can pay rent, he consoles himself, although that’s all he can really afford. the recent increase in the cost of his heat suppressants eats away at him, a constant knot of anxiety. he isn’t sure how he’ll get the money, it’s nearly impossible, unless he sells a kidney. for now, all he can do is pray his heat doesn’t hit while he saves every last cent.
he briefly checks his maid uniform and makeup in the mirror. there are thigh highs as well, but yeonjun never wears them. he prefers to keep at least a little bit of his dignity.
“it’s not so busy today,” kai chirps, leaning against the wall. he has the same outfit, though his is buttercream yellow, and he actually wears the atrocious socks. “i can’t stay late tonight, by the way. are you okay to close by yourself?”
yeonjun groans. “fine. but you’re on table cleaning duty next time.”
“you’re the best!” kai briefly hugs the omega before they exit the locker room, letting go with a patronizing head-pat, and yeonjun ducks away from him, huffing with amused annoyance.
luckily, kai is right about business being slow. only three tables are occupied. a group of giggling omega girls sit in the booths, a father and three children at the table behind them. a regular sips tea by the window, and yeonjun furrows his brow at the sight of him. the alpha customers are never pleasant. alphas are never pleasant, period.
another strange indication in the job description was that they would exclusively hire omegas (kai was one of the only two beta employees, and he had been working there for half a year already. besides, most people mistake him for an omega anyway). yeonjun wishes he had known at the time the reasoning behind that criteria.
any alpha who comes into a pastel-themed omega maid cafe called darling cakes is certainly a creep, no doubt about it. with every fiber of his being, yeonjun despises that portion of their clientele. kai is kind enough to take on most of the alphas though, leaving yeonjun to serve the little kids and omegas who are enamoured by the adorable pink atmosphere of the place.
yeonjun carries on his shift without much trouble, save for a few uncomfortable stares and one case where the customer didn’t leave him a tip. it’s alright — kai reads him well enough to know when to take over a table for him, to know when yeonjun needs a break. the younger deals better with the attention, turns it into something fun with his bright personality, even basks in it.
yeonjun isn’t like that. his whole life, he’s hated that kind of attention. objectification. because, as an omega, it’s an entirely different experience.
“i’m heading out! see you later,” kai waves, a sharp smile on the corners of his lips. yeonjun waves back.
“see you!”
umbrella in hand, kai darts outside, leaving yeonjun with the currently dead cafe for the next half-hour.
the rain that had been trickling slightly all day suddenly becomes a torrential downpour, and yeonjun watches the drops make ripples on the wet ground with a relaxed sigh. slow days are the best. boring, but restful. the only downside is the lack of tips. he debates changing back into his regular clothes — there’s no one here, after all — but ultimately decides against it. just thirty more minutes. thirty more minutes in this stupid outfit and then he can—
yeonjun looks up at the sound of the door opening, followed by the chime of the bell. a tall man steps in, probably seeking shelter from the rain, judging by the dripping ends of his inky black hair.
for a split second, yeonjun thinks the man must be an alpha just from his height. he’s tall — ridiculously tall. but then the man looks up with shy, lowered eyes. they’re wide and innocent, frazzled, and yeonjun’s heart squeezes painfully. the man’s shoulders are hunched, leaning downwards, as if he thinks he’s too big to fit in the space around him.
nothing about him is dominant or even confident, so yeonjun breathes a sigh of relief. probably a beta.
“welcome,” yeonjun smiles.
the man’s eyes widen when they land on him, big and brown and stunned. yeonjun shifts awkwardly, noticing the faint flush that spreads over the other’s cheeks.
“h-hi.” it’s stuttered, fragile. the omega wants to coo.
as yeonjun shows him to a table, tucked away in the corner of a booth, the man doesn’t look at him, his gaze flitting first to the wall, then the menu, and back again.
he only orders a cup of earl grey tea, frowning in concentration as he adds criminal amounts of cream and sugar. with the clock ticking to closing time, yeonjun wipes down tables, sneaking glances here and there at the man who scrolls through something on his phone.
“uh,” yeonjun clears his throat awkwardly, and gestures towards the empty teacup. “can i take this for you?”
the man nods silently, once again fixing yeonjun with that wide, intense stare. as yeonjun dumps the last uneaten pastries into the trash from behind the counter, he speaks again.
“um, sir? we close in ten minutes. so, i’m gonna have to ask you to leave, please.”
the tips of the man’s ears color red. “oh, alright.” he stands up, checks his phone again, and grits his teeth at something. “um, sorry,” he suddenly says. “but could you tell me this cafe’s address? i, uh,” his laughter is a nervous thing. “i don’t have cell service. must be the storm.”
yeonjun frowns. “the nearest bus stop is about ten minutes away. you don’t even have an umbrella, right?”
at this, the man sheepishly scratches the back of his head. yeonjun assumes that means he’s correct.
“wait here,” the omega sighs. he’s not about to let someone go out in this weather without an umbrella, stranger or not. slipping into the back room, he quickly changes clothes. the massive black hoodie and grey sweats are far from flattering, but they’re comfortable enough that he doesn’t care.
“alright,” yeonjun calls as he steps out, clear umbrella in hand. “i’ll walk you to the bus stop. i’m yeonjun, by the way.”
“soobin,” the man — soobin — replies instantly, before pausing to take in his words. “wait — you really don’t have to. i’ll be fine—”
“i take the bus, anyway. it’s no trouble, really,” yeonjun dismisses, waving a hand. “now, come on. let’s hurry — i have a lab report due tonight.”
flustered, soobin follows him outside and into the downpour. the two of them squeeze together under the umbrella (soobin has to crane his neck comically downward so as not to bump his head), and this close yeonjun is able to catch a whiff of the man’s scent. or, more accurately, the lack thereof. a telltale white bandage sits inconspicuously over soobin’s neck, right on his gland, a subtle scent blocker.
there’s a light aroma over it, like sour candy — candied citrus — obvious omega. most likely the scent from one of his friends, just like how yeonjun carries the slightest bits of kai’s and taehyun’s scents along his own. he’s a little envious of those who have the money to wear scent blockers all the time. he distantly wonders what soobin does for a living, he looks so young, and whether the man is a beta or omega.
they walk in silence, listening to the pattering rush of raindrops around them. it’s eerily dark, save for the lamp posts that illuminate their path like yellow beacons.
eventually, yeonjun asks “are you a university student, too?”
soobin almost trips. “ah, i get asked that a lot,” he admits shyly. “i’m actually just here temporarily, to visit an old friend. i never went to college, so — yeah.”
slowly, yeonjun nods. he wants to ask more questions, but they’ve already reached the bus stop, rounding the corner to see the bus miraculously already waiting.
they quickly hop in, yeonjun closing his umbrella and shaking out the rainwater.
“are you a student, then?” soobin asks when they sit down.
again, the omega nods. “i’m a senior. almost done with the first semester of the year.”
“congratulations.” soobin’s smile is something precious. “what do you major in?”
“biochemistry,” he answers simply, watching with satisfaction how soobin’s eyes widen just a fraction. then he remembers something. “oh, do you know where your stop is?”
thankfully, soobin nods with certainty. “i’m pretty sure it’s the third one,” he unlocks his phone, clicking his tongue. “yeah, i have service now. definitely the third one.”
“great, mine’s fourth,” yeonjun says shortly. he checks his own phone, and several unread messages from taehyun pop up.
dinner? the first one reads. then, i was thinking about ordering takeout. let me know what you want.
yeonjun sighs, feeling his stomach ache with hunger. he texts a fast reply. a rustle of movement has him glancing up as soobin's getting out of his seat. rain is still prevalent outside the window, pouring no less harsh than before.
“how far is your walk?” yeonjun hears himself ask.
the bus rolls to a bumpy stop, and soobin’s looking at him with that same strange, awe-struck expression. “uh,” the man stutters. “not too far. just about ten minutes.”
yeonjun holds out the umbrella. “take it,” he says.
soobin’s eyes bulge. “no— no, i-i couldn’t possibly—"
“i said take it,” his voice remains firm.
“you don’t understand,” soobin rushes. “there’s really no need—"
“soobin,” yeonjun cuts, and soobin’s mouth falls open a little, looking at the omega like he had just saved his cat or something. knowing he’ll regret it later, yeonjun sighs. “just take the damn umbrella. you can return it to me later.”
at that, soobin relaxes somewhat. the violent blush painting his face begins to recede. “— okay. thank you.”
the words are stressed, sounding almost constipated, and yeonjun can only watch as the man hurries out of the bus, keeping his head down and not looking back. the bus driver watches him leave with a raised eyebrow, perhaps a little annoyed at their prolonged interaction, and something stirs within yeonjun’s gut.
he only has a short walk to his apartment, but the cold wet rain soaking him from head to toe is such an unpleasant experience, he nearly wishes he hadn’t given his umbrella away.
when he walks in, dripping water everywhere, taehyun lets out a low whistle. the alpha brings him a towel and waits as yeonjun slips off his squelching shoes.
“i would have come to get you, if i'd known you didn’t bring your umbrella.”
yeonjun huffs. “i did have my umbrella.” at taehyun’s questioning stare, he raises a hand. “long story.”
“well, alright,” the younger lets it go. “there’s food on the table for you. i got those noodles you wanted.”
the words make yeonjun so happy, he could hug the man, and he does. comforting bitter coffee wraps around him, getting stronger as he nuzzles into taehyun’s neck. alphas may be terrible, but there is one exception, and that exception is his roommate, kang taehyun.
“this is why we’re friends,” yeonjun sighs. in response, taehyun laughs lightly, wrapping his arms across yeonjun’s back.
they eat like starved men, forgetting conversation in favor of slurping the biggest mouthfuls they can possibly manage. yeonjun clears his plate in record time and leans back with a satisfied exhale.
taehyun raises an eyebrow. “you skipped lunch again, didn’t you?”
“i did not!” the omega protests, rolling his eyes.
“what’d you eat, then?”
at this, yeonjun shrinks back. “kai snuck me some cake during my break.”
disappointed, taehyun shakes his head. “you need to take better care of yourself, hyung.”
“i know, i know. quit nagging me already, god.”
as taehyun is throwing out the emptied takeout containers, he says “oh, i almost forgot. a childhood friend of mine is in town for a few weeks.”
the words faintly ring a bell, but yeonjun’s exhaustion outweighs his curiosity.
taehyun continues. “i haven’t seen him in years, but we’ve been texting.” a rare smile graces his features. when yeonjun doesn’t say anything, taehyun quietly adds “you should meet him.”
“is he an alpha?”
yeonjun already knows what the answer is going to be, but scrunches his nose nonetheless when taehyun tells him. “yeah.”
“when are you guys meeting?”
“tomorrow, after my last class.”
“great!” yeonjun claps. “i have a study group session at the library, so i can’t go!”
“hyung,” taehyun chides, stern. “you’re gonna work yourself to death. please, just have some fun, for once in your life.”
“i do have fun,” yeonjun lies. he can’t bring himself to admit that he can’t afford fun. not when taehyun’s giving him that look. not when the younger tries so hard to take care of him, and would undoubtedly lose his mind if he knew even a fraction of the shit yeonjun has to deal with. “you know how i feel about alphas.”
“ i’m an alpha, or did you forget again?”
“you’re… different.” his answer is slow, and taehyun huffs.
“well, this alpha is different, too, i promise. i wouldn’t hang out with a bunch of knotheads, you know that.”
the younger has a point. still, yeonjun can’t bring himself to give in. pouting, he turns away to lay on his side, refusing to look at his roommate.
“hyung,” taehyun sits beside him, leaning his weight. “just this once. then i won’t bother you ever again.”
silence.
“i’ll cook dinner for an entire week.”
at this, yeonjun lifts his head, narrowing his eyes at the alpha over his shoulder.
“i’ll wash the dishes, too. for the whole week,” taehyun adds seriously.
knowing he’s lost, yeonjun sighs dramatically. “fine. but i’m bringing kai along.”
“you won’t regret this.” smile reassuring, taehyun gives the older a pat on the shoulder.
i’d better not.
+×+
yeonjun most definitely regrets it.
he waits outside the door of an apartment on the 21st floor, hand poised in mid-air. he's about to knock, but a tremble runs through his fingers.
"what are you waiting for?" kai, who's currently hiding behind him, whispers. "knock."
yeonjun hisses through his teeth. "i didn't know we'd be meeting rich people!"
from where they had stood outside, the apartment complex looked huge, sides sleek with all-encompassing windows, so impressive that they had double — triple — checked the address.
"just get it over with!" kai squeals, too loud. with one last grimace, yeonjun delivers a jarring knock to the wooden door that rings obnoxiously in the silence between them.
it's still for several heartbeats, the two holding their breath, anticipating—
the door swings open, revealing a boy wearing a very bored expression on his heart-shaped face. there's something about his air, attitude practically oozing out of him.
"oh," the boy says, with a twinge of clearly unpleasant surprise, as if he had forgotten that other people were coming over.
silence falls over them for several long seconds. "hi!" kai greets, finally.
the boy regards them with something akin to suspicion, a furrow in his brow, upper lip curling to slightly show teeth. it has yeonjun's stomach dropping, anxiety increasing tenfold. we shouldn't be here. we don't belong here.
"we're taehyun's friends," yeonjun feels the need to clarify.
"ah." squinting at them, the boy doesn't sound any more convinced.
"... is he here?" yeonjun presses slowly.
"they're not back yet," he seems to think about something for a moment, pursing his lips in thought. before yeonjun can ask what he means by that, the boy continues, "ah, well. you guys can come inside for now."
just as yeonjun gives a nod, the boy's scent hits his nose. sweet, but sour, and weirdly familiar. candied orange and lemon, and definitely omega. where had he smelled it before?
it's strong, too, packing a punch with every inhale. distantly, yeonjun is reminded of a time in his childhood. getting candy with friends, and eating too many packets of those sour-dusted gummies. he'd always feel a soreness in his cheeks afterwards, the aftertaste making his face screw up.
as he walks through the door, the scent only gets stronger. a tingling sensation in his neck makes him realize he had begun releasing more of his own scent subconsciously, as if to cover up the other's.
kai follows behind him, yeonjun trying his absolute hardest not to gasp at the apartment's interior. floor to ceiling windows showcase the buzzing inner city of seoul, bright against the backdrop of the dimming evening sky. in one word, it's luxurious. sleek, soft furniture and perfect moody lighting in every corner.
"woah," kai breathes, and yeonjun shoots him a look. keeping his own face free of shock is no easy task.
"i'm choi beomgyu," the boy says, then puffs his chest out a little with pride. "you might recognize my face. i'm an actor."
"uh," yeonjun wracks his brain, coming up empty. sharing a glance, kai tilts his head, also confused.
when beomgyu notices the lack of recognition in their stares, he whines, rolling his eyes. "ah, come on," he groans. "you know that one commercial? for psoriasis medication?"
"i don't think so?" kai visibly holds back laughter. "i'm guessing you're the actor for it?"
"every weeknight in the seven-to-eight pm slot. turn on channel nine and you'll get to see this handsome face." beomgyu's confidence is audible in his tone, and yeonjun belatedly realizes that the other omega is completely serious. he tries not to cringe.
"o–kay," yeonjun says awkwardly, taking a seat at one of the barstools by the kitchen counter. "so, when will taehyun get here?"
beomgyu clicks his tongue. "not sure. soobin left to pick him up from class a while ago. it shouldn't be long."
soobin?
the name strikes a chord in yeonjun, remembering the man from the other day with stunning clarity. it must be a different soobin, he tells himself, taehyun's friend is an alpha. there's no way.
but something has his heartbeat quickening, an intuitive anxiety rising like bile in his throat. "i’m actually just here temporarily, to visit an old friend," wasn't that what soobin had said the other day? it's just a coincidence.
there's a split second when yeonjun thinks of the smell on soobin that day, the faint aroma of citrus he had picked up. beomgyu, he realizes, far too late. he had beomgyu's scent on him.
desperately, he wants to push the signs away, write it off as a crazy coincidence, it can't be true, but then— the front door swings open.
"we're back," soobin grins, posture drawn into himself shyly just like when they had first met. more than anything, yeonjun wants to sink into the seat cushion beneath himself and never appear again.
taehyun's head of red hair appears behind him, also smiling. yeonjun has never wanted to punch the alpha more.
soobin's footsteps still.
he's looking right at yeonjun, an impossible expression of shock evident on his honest features. "you," is all he says.
too late to run away now, yeonjun thinks bitterly. "me," the omega says back, laughing nervously.
taehyun's head moves back and forth between them at an alarming speed. "you two know each other?"
soobin doesn't answer, looking choked up as his eyes remain on yeonjun. yeonjun takes a breath. "kind of."
"oh!" everyone jumps at soobin's sudden exclamation. "i can return your umbrella to you! wait right here," and before anyone can say a word, the tall man is hopping away.
three pairs of eyes zero in on yeonjun.
"so," taehyun says slowly, and yeonjun feels his blood freeze at the slyness in his tone. a mischievous taehyun is the worst kind. "i'm guessing that's where your umbrella went, huh?"
"i'm confused," beomgyu butts in abruptly, fixing yeonjun with an upturned glare. " how do you know soobin, exactly?"
the answer is complicated. "uh— well, i. i actually met him where i work," yeonjun stammers.
dramatically, kai delivers a hard slap to his shoulder. "hyung! you finally scored someone?"
"oh my god, no— "
"what?" beomgyu yelps, horrified. "just what kind of place do you work at?!"
"no! no, no, it's not anything like that i swear—"
kai squeals again, cutting yeonjun off. "i can't believe you didn't tell me!"
ever the stoic alpha, taehyun only watches the interaction silently. his brow slightly furrows, perhaps an indication of concern, and a storm brews in his irises.
"i'm just a waiter," yeonjun cries. "he came in from the rain and i let him use my umbrella! that's it, seriously."
beomgyu still eyes him with suspicion, but doesn't say a word. yeonjun isn't sure if he likes the other omega.
"that's cute," chimes kai.
"um." it's soobin, standing a ways behind them with his shoulders hunched, like a bat hiding in darkness.
he approaches yeonjun with the plastic umbrella in hand, raising a hand to give it to him, gentle. "here."
"thanks," yeonjun takes it, blinking. he can't stop himself from asking the question that's been burning the back of his mind since soobin walked through the door. "you— you're an alpha?"
the nod he receives makes his breaths just a tad sharper.
"you didn't know?" taehyun asks.
yeonjun gestures vaguely to his neck. "the– the scent blockers—"
"what? did you think he was an omega, with his height?" beomgyu snorts.
before yeonjun can snap back, soobin smiles genuinely. "it's okay. you wouldn't have been able to tell, without my scent."
and, well. yeonjun isn't sure how he feels. his eyes fix on the marble counter under his hands, lips subconsciously pulling down in a frown. soobin — kind, shy, soobin — was of the very same secondary gender that had evidently become the bane of yeonjun's existence. mistreated, patronized, and objectified time and time again by alphas, yeonjun had, for good reason, developed an all encompassing hatred for them.
it's more than a necessary caution. where alphas stand in society — and, as a result, where omegas stand because of that — was what had ruined yeonjun's life.
even now, staring at soobin's hands, suddenly noticing how big they are — how could i have been so blind — a sour taste sits on his tongue.
"ah, well, that's my bad," he forces himself to say, plastering on a painfully fake smile. "how was class, taehyun?"
successfully, the conversation drifts away from him, swaying instead to his roommate. yeonjun contemplates a lot of things, identifying a familiar discomfort bubbling in his gut. just a couple hours, he compromises, just a couple hours, then i can go home and never face that alpha ever again.
it's the best course of action. then, he can forget any of this ever happened.
the club they eventually find is somewhere yeonjun has never been. this is the upscale side of seoul, reeking of money and flair. it's dark by the time they leave beomgyu's apartment, even darker by the time they arrive at the club. the bar is illuminated by bright pink lights, as if it's some sort of heavenly beacon for yeonjun to bolt to. he does just that, immediately ordering something strong and knocking it back.
if he wants to survive tonight, he'll have to do what he can, budget be damned.
"relax, hyung," kai says next to him, watching beomgyu laugh overly loudly at something that taehyun had said.
yeonjun side-eyes him, repeats a line he's recited far too many times. "you know how much i hate alphas."
"you don't hate taehyun," kai points out, and yeonjun ignores him. "you're gonna make him sad. he hasn't seen soobin in years, hyung."
"he didn't have to drag me along, though."
"hey." there's a chide hidden in the beta's tone. "just — be friendly. for taehyun, please?"
yeonjun goes quiet, looking over the rim of his glass at the two alphas. there's a nostalgic sort of happiness in taehyun's smile, the way he seems to buzz with delight at being around soobin again, after such a long time. and it gives yeonjun pause.
he trusts his roommate. possibly more than anyone else in the world. right now though, he isn't acting like it.
"okay," yeonjun sighs. he appreciates the little grin kai throws at him, reassuring.
beomgyu's brown hair bumbles into his field of vision. "i'm getting drinks," he explains, elbowing in between them. a surprised look crosses kai's face as he's promptly shoved to the side. "yeonjun," beomgyu purrs sweetly, and all the hairs on the back of yeonjun's neck stand on end. "you and taehyun aren't together, right?"
"no… " the word comes slowly.
"great!" beomgyu claps, the movement startling both the omega and beta on either side of him. can he be more shameless?
"they are living together, though," kai chimes in, innocently sipping his sprite when beomgyu throws a look of daggers at yeonjun.
"we're not dating." he's not about to compete over taehyun, but irritation spikes in yeonjun's stomach. he matches the glare with one of his own. "why do you care, anyway?"
beomgyu just huffs, a little squint in his eye and twirl in his lip as he moves to grab the drinks and head back to their table. with a shrug and a shake of his head, kai follows him, yeonjun trailing close behind.
all yeonjun can think about is how awful oranges and coffee would taste together.
at their table, he chooses to sit as far away as possible from soobin, sandwiched between kai and taehyun. he does a good job of playing along, laughing when jokes are told, giving minimal answers. but when kai gets up to dance, followed by taehyun and beomgyu, yeonjun is about to be left alone with the alpha.
just as kai's leaving his seat, yeonjun shoots him the most pleading look he can muster, only for the beta to give him a shit-eating grin, winking over his shoulder. i thought we were allies! yeonjun wants to shout, pouting at his betrayal.
it's awkward when it's just yeonjun and soobin, the both of them sitting in silence for several long heartbeats. yeonjun won't be the one to talk first.
"you don't want to dance?" soobin asks him, his tone infuriatingly soft. you're not supposed to be this nice.
yeonjun hums, suddenly finding his empty glass very interesting. "too many alphas."
and, okay, maybe that was a little harsh of a jab. still, yeonjun doesn't regret telling the truth — until soobin's shoulders cave further forward, tilting his neck down as if deeply ashamed. the omega hadn't expected that kind of response, and it catches him feeling oddly guilty.
the guilt intensifies tenfold when soobin mumbles sheepishly. "i don't blame you."
at this, yeonjun lifts his head, locking gazes with the young alpha across the table from him. for someone so timid, soobin's eyes are piercing, doe brown yet carved sharp with something truthfully honest.
a burst of static prickles behind yeonjun's eyelids, surprising him. he's never felt this sensation — and it's starting to scare him.
"besides," yeonjun feels the urge to say. his mouth moves on its own accord. " you don't seem to want to dance, either."
soobin's chuckle is a sweet, low, sound that rumbles gently in his chest. "ah, you're right. i'm not a fan of crowds."
"that makes two of us, then."
"i suppose so."
the quirk in soobin's lip shouldn't be so attractive. yeonjun fights down the fluttering of his heart, ignoring it with an iron will. a small part of him wants to scold himself for even talking to the alpha, we're better than this, but his conversation with kai from earlier pops into his mind. he thinks of taehyun, and how he would never, ever want to upset the younger.
"what're you drinking?" yeonjun tries, looking pointedly at the red drink between soobin's large palms.
"ah," the alpha says, seemingly embarrassed. his voice is quiet, face slightly flushed, when he answers. "shirley temple."
shirley temple, yeonjun repeats internally, incredulous, but strangely endeared. his heart squeezes in his ribcage.
as if he feels the need to explain himself, soobin rambles on. "i just — like to be the sober friend, just to be safe. i don't like the taste of alcohol anyways, so — "
"i don't judge," yeonjun shrugs. "you're being responsible."
"i often come off that way."
"are you not?" the omega asks, blinking. "responsible, i mean?"
only for an instant, there's a glint of something in soobin's eyes. a youthful courage, teasing, and yeonjun abruptly wonders who he really is. because, that's a side he certainly hasn't seen yet. "i guess," the alpha answers vaguely, smiling a little.
for just this while, yeonjun finds himself forgetting soobin's status. it's so much easier to pretend the man isn't an alpha, that he's just soobin. it briefly reminds him of taehyun, and how his roommate is so much more than just the secondary gender category he falls into. his thoughts submerge further into hypotheticals, spacing out when soobin gets up to use the restroom.
yeonjun's absentmindedly drawing patterns into the table with his fingerprints when someone slides into the seat next to him. the omega only looks up when a pungent stench fills his nostrils — cigarette smoke and seawater — an indication that the other person is an alpha.
"all alone?" the alpha drawls suggestively, and yeonjun's hands clench on instinct.
he looks away from the stranger's face, objectively handsome in all the wrong ways. a too-perfect nose, eyes that are close together and simply too mean, too leering.
yeonjun leans away, doing his best not to engage, but this does not deter the alpha. "i've never smelled anyone like you," the alpha tells him, voice low. "your scent is sweeter than birthday cake."
here we go, yeonjun sighs.
his scent is often what pulls alphas in, (if his looks don't do the trick) not that he wants it to. rather, he finds the whole ordeal ridiculous, as he's unable to even smell himself. people always tell him different things — all variations of baked goods, ranging from cream puffs to sugar cookies. in short, he's been told again and again that he's basically walking around smelling like a bakery, which isn't necessarily a compliment in his opinion.
(when he had asked taehyun about it, the younger had paused, thinking it over seriously.
"it's definitely like a pastry," the alpha had said. "but there's… something more. it's not just cookies, or cakes. it's almost — homey? a bit tangy?"
"tangy?" yeonjun had repeated, perplexed.
taehyun had looked frustrated, concentration evident in his voice. "yeah, but like — hm. like it's sweet, but there's something else cutting through it, you know? it's really nice."
"great," the omega had replied sarcastically. "now i'm even more confused."
giving him a light shove on the shoulder, taehyun had only rolled his eyes.)
"i'm not interested," yeonjun refuses in his best civil voice, as clear as he can be.
unfortunately, the universe is not on his side. "come on," the alpha croons, eyeing yeonjun's neck in a way that makes him want to cover it up. "lets see just how sweet your scent can get, hm?"
the comment is an unmasked innuendo, an inappropriate invitation. yeonjun's patience is quickly thinning. "listen, i'm trying to be nice," he snaps. "so i'll say this one last time. i'm not interested. leave me alone. "
"i love the ones who play hard to get," the words make yeonjun's skin crawl. "don't worry, i'll have you screaming by the end of–"
"fuck off!" he's full on hissing now, releasing defensive omega pheromones in powerful waves.
now, the alpha looks angry, an unsightly bend in his brow that has yeonjun's heart jumping, and the growls emitting from the stranger's throat make the reaction increasingly worse. don't submit. don't you dare fucking submit, choi yeonjun. adrenaline thuds in his veins, blood roars in the tips of his ears. when an unwelcome hand comes up to pin the omega's shoulder to the back of his chair, a snarled mouth pulling too close to his neck, yeonjun can't stop himself —
smack.
the world tilts on its axis.
"what the fuck is your problem?"
the alpha cradles his bruising cheek, the words leaving his curled lips in a too–loud accusation. yeonjun watches his crumpled form, several feet away, watches the blood drip from the alpha's nose onto the floor.
he wasn't thinking when he'd done it. yeonjun's fist had a mind of its own.
the surrounding people turn to stare at the scene, the alpha spitting as if it was yeonjun who'd made the advances. uncomfortable, the omega feels himself shrinking under the scrutiny.
fuck. he groans. i can't believe i just punched someone.
but, fuck, it felt good.
"what the hell is going on here?"
yeonjun's head shoots up at the sound of taehyun's voice, almost whimpering at the sense of safety. he just wants to go home, preferably right now. maybe he wants to deliver another punch or two first, because that sleazy alpha undoubtedly deserves it, but the logical side of his brain withholds him.
"fuck, yeonjun!" taehyun exclaims, wrapping his arms protectively around the omega. "can you tell me what happened?"
"he wouldn't — leave me alone," yeonjun grits out through clenched teeth, volume barely audible.
the alpha's hug tightens. "shit. i'm sorry," he pulls away to look yeonjun in the eye. "i should have scented you before we left."
"it's not your fault, at all."
"i know, but," a near growl. "i shouldn't have left you alone."
i'm not helpless, yeonjun wants to hiss, but refrains. he knows taehyun's protectiveness comes from a good place. still, fuck, does he hate all the alpha-like traits being shoved down his throat.
"oh my god," kai, who must have been close behind, gasps at the damage. "that was amazing, hyung."
meanwhile, even beomgyu eyes him with an odd kind of respect. "you must be batshit insane."
yeonjun opens his mouth to respond, when the alpha he'd punched staggers upright. instantly, they fall silent.
the alpha takes a step forward, "who do you think you—"
a hand wraps around the alpha's wrist, stopping him from getting any closer to yeonjun. yeonjun's eyes follow the familiar hand to an arm, then to a face.
soobin.
"what the fuck do you think you're doing?" soobin's voice is unrecognizable.
here, like this, the kind and shy man from before is completely transformed under the red and black shadows of the club's lighting. in his set jaw is something entirely deadly, eyes on fire with burning anger. a shiver runs down yeonjun's spine, and he's rendered speechless.
yeonjun knows that soobin is tall, but he hadn't known exactly how tall until now. the alpha's spine is ramrod straight, towering above everyone else in the room. his presence is domineering, commanding, yeonjun almost bares his neck in response because that right there.
that's an alpha.
and it's complicated, because yeonjun really hates him for it.
yeonjun had been the one to deliver the punch. yeonjun had been the one to protect himself. yeonjun, the omega, had been the one to draw blood.
yet, with a single glare, soobin is able to suddenly have the whole room under his beck and call. all it takes for the alpha yeonjun had physically punched to scramble away is one little growl from soobin.
it's fucking unfair, and yeonjun wants to go home.
once the offending alpha scampers away, and everyone around them seemingly goes back to partying, taehyun looks towards the exit doors.
"come on," he says, so upset. "let's get the hell out of here."
yeonjun takes a step back when soobin takes a step towards him, and the omega fights to ignore the hurt expression on the other's features. "are you alright?" soobin asks, every ounce of his previous animosity gone, just like that. now, his voice is so much softer, irises rounded with shining concern.
"fine," yeonjun mutters. "i just want to go home."
the night air is freezingly brisk when they rush outside, a quiet contrast to the noisy, suffocating club. the mood is wholly ruined; beomgyu is uncharacteristically mute, and kai's wide eyes keep flitting behind them, as if afraid they'll be followed. yeonjun's own heart still pounds into his throat, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple.
when yeonjun brings a hand up to brush away the hair on his forehead, his fingers tremble violently, and he finds that he can't calm himself down. the adrenaline hasn't quite worn off – he can still feel the rush in his veins.
he does his best to inhale — exhale.
"taehyun," says soobin, and yeonjun jumps at how close his voice is. the tall alpha hovers just over his right shoulder. "let me call my driver. it's safer. please."
taehyun offers a firm nod, his posture pulled taut like a tightrope of tension. his hand lightly circles around yeonjun's upper arm, defensive, but yeonjun can't bring himself to care. if anything, having taehyun's coffee scent up close helps to soothe his nerves.
the world is moving too fast for yeonjun to stop and think about what soobin means about calling his driver. soobin is already pulling out his phone, tapping buttons with urgency.
"park." voice sharp, soobin holds his phone up to his ear. "i need a car, asap."
there's more chatter on the other end, things yeonjun can't hear — he's busy staring at the back of his own red knuckles, where the hit had landed — not that he would process the words, anyways.
within five minutes or less (it couldn't have been too long, but yeonjun can't trust his perception of time right now) a sleek black van with tinted windows pulls right up to them. In the driver's seat is a man wearing a tuxedo, who immediately springs out of the car and opens the back door for them.
taehyun's hand is a sure pressure on yeonjun's back, and he lets himself be ushered into the vehicle without protest. soobin somehow slips in right behind him, sitting as close as he possibly can without physically touching the omega. like this, yeonjun almost feels too crowded. he wishes everyone would simply get out of his space, but he can't speak over the lump in his throat.
"taehyun, what's your address?" soobin asks, his clenched fists a juxtaposition to his polite tone. a cord in his neck juts visibly outwards, stressed. yeonjun feels stressed himself as well, just from looking at it.
the five of them cram into the two rows, yeonjun in the first beside the two alphas, with beomgyu and kai occupying the spaces behind them. luckily, the car ride passes in a blur. suddenly, they're parked outside of yeonjun's apartment.
kai and taehyun pull yeonjun out of the car after them, taehyun muttering something about having a pack bonding session later. for a second when yeonjun throws a look over his shoulder, soobin seems tensed as if about to follow them, leaning forward out of his seat.
beomgyu's hand rests on the alpha's shoulder. "soobin," he calls, stern. "don't."
and soobin relents, sitting back with a grunt. his eyes never leave yeonjun, though, fixed on the omega with laser focus, intense.
yeonjun swallows. he turns to leave.
maybe later, after a good night's sleep, he'll think things over. he'll question the expensive car that had come at the speed of light to their aid, who had paid for it, who soobin was talking to on the phone. he'll see the little things that don't add up, and begin piecing the truth together. most importantly, he'll replay soobin's unreadable stare in his mind, wondering why he feels the way he does.
but, for now, he's exhausted. his mind stays trapped in a haze, even as kai pulls him in for a sweet hug.
he'll worry about everything else later.