Chapter Text
When Jeongguk wakes up, it’s not because of the house music thumping the walls or because someone came in to run him out, the most frequent outcome when he stops by the club, but rather it’s because he smells an alpha. It’s such a foreign sensation to him that he jolts upright, maybe the most awake he’s ever been in his entire life.
The back room that Jeongguk haunts when his brother isn’t able to shoo him away isn’t large, and with the presence of an alpha in it, it becomes stifling. Jeongguk’s heart races before he even gets a look at the alpha - a man, sitting in a chair across from him on the couch - and then it really races. This alpha is big, young, and everything any alpha wants to be. Built. Expensive. Powerful.
Jeongguk doesn't know who he is, but if he’s allowed to have his scent unmasked in public, he must be someone important. Almost everyone wears scent blockers in public; the kind of people who are allowed to forego them are the highest level politicians or the occasional CEO if they are at the very top. It’s not something he worries about yet because he has the distinguished honor of being a late bloomer, still nothing and no one at twenty-three, but even Jeongguk sometimes catches himself halting by his front door any time he needs to leave. Even if he doesn’t need to add a neutralizer yet, it’s almost habit for him because he’s so used to stopping with anyone else when they need to go through the process of masking before they depart. The only scent he is very familiar with is his brother’s, but over the years he’s become somewhat acquainted with Taehyung or Jimin’s, although they tend to be careful even indoors amongst just the three of them.
This man doesn’t smell like anything Jeongguk’s smelled before, but of course he hasn’t been around many alphas.
“You should be more careful,” the man says. His voice is deep and it matches his face perfectly. Serious. Calculating. He meets Jeongguk eye-to-eye and doesn’t have to worry about tracking his motions the way Jeongguk tracks his. There’s no doubt who has all the leverage in the room, and it’s not the puny unpresented kid.
“It’s dangerous to fall asleep in places that aren’t your bed,” he continues. It could and would sound sleezy from most people, but from him it sounds utterly neutral, like he really does just want Jeongguk to be comfortable and at home.
Maybe he also thinks it’s stupid for an unpresented pup to be hanging around in a club like this. His brother Seokjin can pretend that’s why he doesn’t want him around, that it’s bad for business, but Jeongguk knows Seokjin just doesn’t want him around for all kinds of reasons. Family is family though, and Seokjin is all Jeongguk has.
If he isn’t here, Jeongguk has nowhere to go. He likes sleeping in the building because it’s more homey than most places, a time and situation in which people can’t completely control their scents and they leak out under the doors and through the hallways. They’re comforting to him.
This alpha’s scent does something else to him; he feels dizzy but also needs to be standing on his own two feet. He scrambles up from the couch, swaying, but before he can fall over nothing, the stranger snags him and holds him up. Dangling by his one arm, but Jeongguk thinks his man would completely probably lift him off the ground one-handed if he wanted to.
“I didn’t say you needed to get up. I just didn’t want anyone to take advantage of you while you rested.”
Jeongguk blushes; he’s even closer to this alpha now, and he realizes his scent is both something earthy, almost like matcha, but layered with the harsh note of metallic, like copper. Or pennies.
“Here. Sit.” The alpha gently moves Jeongguk’s body all on his own to rest him in the chair he previously sat in. The cushion is warm, but it doesn’t feel nice enough for this alpha to have sat on at all.
“Who are you? What are you doing back here?” Jeongguk asks. “Clients can’t be in here.”
The man chuckles. “I’m not a client.”
Jeongguk believes him; as much as Seokjin tries to shelter him, he’s seen the types of alphas and more emboldened betas who frequent this particular establishment. It offers neither the lushness of some of the higher end pleasure houses, but it is certainly not the average working alpha’s joint either. Perfectly in the middle, Seokjin once told him. It neither grabs or holds attention, and that’s how he wanted it.
But for an alpha like this one, his presence feels suspect, even to Jeongguk.
“I’m making you nervous,” he says, but Jeongguk isn’t sure how he knows. He has no scent to give him away. “Apologies. I’ll leave you now. Please take care of yourself.”
The alpha bows his head to him before silently stepping out the door which he only now realizes was closed. As soon as it opens, the music and the overwhelmingly specific smell of standard scent blockers working double time filters in. Jeongguk wrinkles his nose - someone’s natural scent is always better, he thinks, and this alpha’s scent was so lovely he almost calls out for him to stay, but how could he?
Jeongguk’s no one, and he doesn’t even has his own scent to deny. He certainly doesn’t get to be greedy with a stranger, and one so important at that.
It’d be a lie to say he isn’t rattled by the brief run-in; the alpha didn’t even do anything and yet Jeongguk is unsettled. He can’t stop thinking about his scent, or his eyes. They were so focused, so focused on him. He doesn’t want to stay there anymore, so he crawls his way into Seokjin’s office, preparing his ears for the vocal lashing he may receive. Instead he gets the quiet version of his brother, the silently disappointed version which is so much worse.
“Jeongguk-ah,” he sighs. He’s wearing a pink lace bodysuit tucked into classically tailored trouser pants with a matching blazer over it. He’s probably wearing heels with it, but Jeongguk doesn’t want to get close enough to find out. His brother likes to jokingly kick him to grab his attention when he wants it. “How long have you been here?”
Jeongguk shrugs, shuffling closer only because Hoseok is there and he pulls him all the way into the office to close the door behind them. Hoseok is an alpha as well, one Jeongguk simultaneously knows and doesn’t know. He’s been around for the past handful of years, both in the club and outside of it too, a quiet presence at his brother’s side. Jeongguk knows he must be in love with Seokjin; plenty of people are - alphas, betas, other omegas. He just can’t tell how his brother feels about the alpha.
He wonders what Hoseok smells like and if Seokjin knows his scent. Hoseok takes actual pill scent depressors, not just the spray stuff that’s cheap. Jeongguk isn’t sure exactly what Hoseok does; there are days he seemingly works security around the building, then for months he’ll be gone and Seokjin all but denies he knows a Hoseok, only to find them alone together in Seokjin’s apartment late at night the very next time Jeongguk tries to see his brother.
So Jeongguk doesn’t pretend to understand who the alpha is or his relationship to Jin. He would be scared of Hoseok and the gun he carries on his body if not for the fact he almost pities him for loving his hyung. Seokjin may jokingly kick at him with those heels, but he’s seen firsthand the real damage the omega can do when he wants. Seokjin had one alpha boyfriend of past, the one they both lived with when Jeongguk was much younger and his brother only experienced with a handful of heats. That relationship ended with the two of them living on the streets, his brother too scared to speak to him for days even though no one else would speak to him either.
Their shared trauma is the thing that keeps a wedge between them, even if certain obstacles have long since been removed.
“Ggukie,” his brother tries again, coming around his desk to greet him. “Why are you here? I know you didn’t get kicked out of this apartment.”
Jeongguk shrugs.
“Where are your friends? Why aren’t you with the wunderkind twins?”
He means Jimin and Taehyung, Jeongguk’s only friends. “I don’t like to bother them all the time.”
Seokjin sighs, looking up at the ceiling. “That’s what those friends are for, Ggukie.” He takes him by the arm and pulls him into one of the chairs on the receiving side of the desk. Hoseok sits in the chair next to Jeongguk’s and pulls open his jacket to retrieve a candy for Jeongguk, as if he’s a pup.
Jeongguk accepts it all the same.
Seokjin looks between them, looking almost surprised, perhaps because Jeongguk might normally shy away from Hoseok, or outright ignore him on another day, but today Jeongguk is desperate for a kind gesture.
The candy Hoseok gives him is a hard sour apple candy. Jeongguk crunches on it.
“What is it, Jeongguk? I know you’re good on money. I even made sure to pay your rent for you before you absentmindedly forgot again. You heard back from that gallery owner, right?”
Jeongguk shrugs. “Never called.”
Seokjin narrows his eyes. “Is that so?”
The guy did call. Jeongguk didn’t answer. Seokjin wouldn’t know that though.
His brother flops back dramatically in his own chair. “Maybe you should get another degree, Ggukie. You mentioned it before.”
“What good will it do me?”
“It might make you happier.”
Jeongguk shivers; it’s always freezing in the entire building, something that makes no sense to Jeongguk but maybe it’s to keep the alpha clients’ temperatures adjusted. They run a lot warmer. “Your friends are in grad school, aren’t they? You should join them. Relive your golden days as the artists trio, or whatever it was.”
“Why can’t I come work with you?” Jeongguk asks. The last time he asked, Seokjin screamed at him - actually screamed, something he’d only heard from his brother when they lived with his alpha ex. Jeongguk didn’t even mean to suggest working in a room - if Jeongguk wanted to do something like that, he knew he’d better be in an entirely different continent. He just meant in the office, supporting Seokjin in - whatever he does. Managing the money and soothing over bad interactions when they happen.
No one would pay for a dry unpresented pup anyway.
“Jeongguk. Please. You know I want you to do everything you want to do, but I thought it was art? Photography and painting and dance. You’re so talented.”
“I’m not, hyung. I’m not anything special.” And that’s okay. Jeongguk’s made peace with just how okay it is to be nothing special. It’s just. “I’m lonely. I want to do something where I meet people. Like tonight, I met this alpha here, and he - ”
“What?” Seokjin’s voice is sharper than a whip crack. “What alpha?”
“Dunno. I could just tell he was an alpha. His scent was unmasked.”
Seokjin whirls around to stare down Hoseok, but Hoseok doesn’t look bothered at all, sucking on his piece of candy with his hands shoved in his pockets and legs crossed. Hoseok seems to be looking somewhere in the vicinity of the corner of the desk. Jeongguk feels his brother’s wrath even if he doesn’t understand it.
Maybe it is time to leave. Jeongguk will take his empty apartment over this.
“You’ve got zero poker face, hyung,” Hoseok says, voice the same even keel it always is. Jeongguk doesn’t hear it much, but he’s always sort of liked Hoseok’s voice because it is neither high pitched or deep. It’s something unique to the alpha, but he would never admit that aloud to anyone. Not when Hoseok is whatever he is to Seokjin, and his brother may not return all of Hoseok’s feelings, but Jeongguk knows his brother well enough to know he won’t let another have him either. “Chill.”
“Did this alpha bother you?” Seokjin asks him. “What did he say?”
Jeongguk sees Hoseok roll his eyes, pushing himself up out of the chair. “Where do you think you’re going?” Seokjin calls after him. “Running away with your tail between your legs?!”
“Does Hoseok hyung know the alpha?”
“What? No. Forget that alpha. He’s no one.” Seokjin’s eyes remained glued to the door, even after Hoseok exits.
“He’s someone. Did you hear the part where I said I could smell him? He must be an important client.”
“He’s not a client.”
“So you do know him?” Jeongguk frowns; he’s not trying to be a brat, he’s just unsure why Seokjin acts like he cares about this. Seokjin is used to alphas; has to be, for his job. They’re always going to be the main clientele the house serves, and as sheltered as he tries to keep him, Jeongguk still knows alphas in his life. He’s friendly enough with a few, Hoseok included.
Seokjin suppresses his next sigh. Jeongguk can tell. “Hyung needs to get back to work. Please, go home. Have a snack and go to bed. I’ll call you tomorrow, alright?”
Jeongguk never wanted to make his brother’s life more difficult, but presenting at such an early age and acting as the sole provider and caretaker for the two of them seemingly cements what their relationship will and will not be forever.
“Yeah, hyung. I’ll see you later.”
Jeongguk doesn’t go home. He goes to a twenty-four hour laundromat and curls up in one of three rickety plastic chairs in the place, but there’s no one there, despite one of the dryers still spinning. He can be there. He can take up space.
Before he nods off, Jeongguk smells something a little - off. Metallic, but he is in a room full of machines. He inhales deeply and finds comfort in it.
Seokjin pushes Hoseok because he’s the only alpha who will let him. Hoseok’s even kind enough to take a step back when Seokjin shoves at his chest, pretends that he’s affected by the physical display. It makes him angrier. When he goes in for another shove, Hoseok easily catches his hands and pulls him tight to his chest.
“Easy. Don’t hurt yourself.”
“You think I’m going to break a nail? You think an omega can’t take out your eyes with these?” Seokjin seethes, tracing Hoseok’s cheek with a finger. “What the hell, Hoseok? Why was he there? Did you know he was coming tonight?”
“Namjoon’s got business everywhere.”
Hoseok clenches his jaw; Seokjin listens for the grinding of his teeth, but Hoseok is too composed for that. Always so composed. Seokjin wishes he could make the alpha lose it, just once. He’s like every other alpha out there, and one day Seokjin will see it and know he’s been right all along.
“He promised me he’d stay away! He promised me!” Seokjin’s knees shake, adrenaline kicking in. Shit - he’s about to lose Jeongguk. Namjoon will take him. He’ll put him up in some penthouse apartment and he’ll never see his brother again. He’ll -
“What the fuck is he thinking!” Seokjin stumbles away from Hoseok. “He’s trying to trigger his presentation, isn’t he? That’s why he mysteriously showed up! He’s sick of waiting, and now he’s going to - going to -”
Seokjin can’t breathe, vision tunneling in on him. A hand keeps him upright while another goes around the back of his neck and before he can react, squeezes.
“Settle.” Hoseok’s voice naturally sounds authoritative, because it’s always so calm, but laced with an alpha order and a scruff at the same time, Seokjin nearly blacks out. As is, he falls completely limp like a ragdoll in Hoseok’s arms. The alpha easily swings him up into his arms in a bridal carry. If Seokjin had all of his mental facilities about him, he’d put his foot down Hoseok’s throat.
“There you go. Just breathe.”
This close to him, Seokjin thinks he can almost catch a whiff of Hoseok’s natural scent. He’s always wondered about it; what would best match an alpha like Hoseok, someone who pretends to have all of that under control? He’ll call it the smell of bullshit, whatever it is. In reality, he smells the polish from the gun under his jacket.
“I didn’t know he was coming tonight,” Hoseok says as he lays Seokjin out on his bed. How many times has the alpha been in his bedroom now? He’s too groggy to ask, but Seokjin wonders if Hoseok would have told him if he knew Namjoon was coming. Hoseok’s allegiances lie with Namjoon because they have to, but the omega also knows by now that Hoseok has ties to him too. Different, maybe, but if he fostered them a little more, gave this alpha the attention he wanted - then where would his true loyalties lie?
Seokjin didn’t come this far because he played nice.
He feels rather pathetic at the moment, unable to hold his head up, but - Hoseok is already in his apartment, in his room. He’s fine. He can let the tremble in his hands out. If he feels the pulse behind his scent gland, what of it? It’s fine. He’s going to make it. And he’s going to keep his brother safe.
“Shit, I told you not to take those goddamn suppressants, hyung! They’re not meant for omegas!” Hoseok sounds almost angry. Almost. He immediately found Seokjin’s stash, hidden in a cleaned out moisturizer bottle he keeps on his bedside table. “No wonder you’re not well. Hyung - how long’s it been since your last heat?”
“Why? You gonna fuck me through it?” Seokjin is able to talk through the mush in his head; if his words lack the impact he’d prefer, it’s only because they’re slurred. “This is all your fault. If we hadn’t met. If I hadn’t met you - he would have never seen him.”
Seokjin squeezes his eyes shut as soon as he feels a tear.
Hoseok turns off the overhead light.
“Maybe. But maybe if he hadn’t seen Jeongguk, you’d both be dead in a ditch somewhere. Starved to death and half beaten by your asshole ex.” Hoseok lingers by the side of his bed. He’s always so careful not to touch anything in Seokjin’s apartment any time he comes in. “Shit, hyung. You know he could see him any time he wants. It’s been a courtesy to you that he’s kept his distance so long, but Jeongguk is twenty-three now. It’s dangerous for him to be packless, even if hasn’t presented.”
He crouches down by the side of the bed. Seokjin rolls with his back to him, some mobility warming his limbs again. “It’s dangerous for you too.”
“Fuck off. I’m all but claimed in your little pack, running that joint he so graciously handed me.” Seokjin won’t wear their mark. He won’t. He can keep his head down and do what he’s told for as long as it keeps that alpha’s hands off his brother.
“You should spend more time with your brother, hyung. I can watch things at the club for a while.”
The offer chills him to the bone. It hurts to sit up, the remnants of a scruff still sitting on his chest. “Why do you say that? Is he - is he going to take him?”
Seokjin collapses to the floor, blindly reaching for his phone that isn’t even on the bedside table. Hoseok curses, helps him stand. “I’ll settle you again if I have to,” he warns. “Namjoon isn’t taking Jeongguk yet, relax.”
Hoseok holds him down instead of scruffing him. Seokjin prefers it this way though. Chest to chest, an intimacy that he can afford to understand.
“You know you can’t stop it. It’s done. Namjoon’s already seen him. He imprinted what - almost five years ago now?”
“He was a kid then!”
Hoseok nods. “And Joon waited. But hyung - any day now Jeongguk will present, and he’s going to respond to that imprint. The one he didn’t get to feel or know anything about, because you didn’t want him to. It will not remain one sided. It’s going to hurt him, because he won’t be able to understand where it’s coming from.”
Seokjin growls; Hoseok actually chuckles at him.
“It could be worse, hyung. Jeongguk will be taken care of. Namjoon doesn’t need to be scary.”
“I take care of him!”
“Jeongguk won’t be lonely, then.”
His throat closes. Of course Jeongguk is lonely. They’re both lonely. They’ve been alone for the last ten years.
“You’ve had a lot of time to make your peace with it.”
“He’s a gang leader! A fucking - war lord! How can I make peace with that?”
Hoseok shrugs. “Living is violent, hyung. You’ve sheltered him so much that he never learned. At least he’ll have protection.”
All Seokjin wanted was to protect Jeongguk from Kim Namjoon, a man he knows better than to run from. If Seokjin could, they would have been out of the country five years ago, but imprints happen instantaneously, and Namjoon has all the resources in the world to track them down, and if Seokjin gives him a reason, he’ll take Jeongguk from him immediately, unpresented and all.
“You’ve already seen the worst of alphas, hyung.” Hoseok guides him back into bed. “Will you punish me forever? Because I brought him into your life?”
Hoseok is a piece of the puzzle; he isn’t someone Seokjin can box up and put away. He haunts him, a looming presence much the same as Kim Namjoon. In another life, maybe they’d be mated. Maybe they’d be ready for a pup by now, and maybe Hoseok would laugh genuinely and openly because Seokjin could live in ease.
But Seokjin doesn’t deal in maybes; he deals in facts, and the one fact he cannot escape is that Kim Namjoon, the heir to the criminal world of Seoul, just ascended his theoretical throne when the bodies of Lee Jeunsang and Park Chulmin turned up in pieces after being missing for seventy-two hours. It’s not the sort of news that would mean something to just anyone on the streets, but to Seokjin, it was the warning bell he’d been waiting for.
Kim Namjoon sits in the seat of power, and he’s ready for his omega to join his side.
His omega just doesn’t know he has an alpha, or that he himself will be an omega. Seokjin kept it that way.
It’s nearly Christmas; the streets are decorated and well lit even in the latest hours of the night. Jeongguk likes to wander through some of the busier shopping areas and people watch until they all go home. It’s snowing out, just barely, but enough he’s soaked through within ten minutes because he hasn’t moved from his seat on the cold cement of the water fountain in the center of the city square. The water isn’t on, but it isn’t frozen yet either, so Jeongguk doubts the snow will stick, but it’s pretty. Everything around him looks so pretty. Wreaths and bows and garland.
He really should return Taehyung’s calls; for whatever reason, his friend called five times almost consecutively earlier in the day, and if it were Jimin who did that he’d understand it’s an emergency, but one can’t be sure with Tae. The beta has been clingier than usual in the past week, insistent on seeing Jeongguk as much as possible despite his busy schedule, but Jeongguk still feels so misplaced between his friends. Both stunningly gorgeous, and both already accomplished at their young age.
Taehyung plays in the symphony, but he also performs solo shows for the violin on top of pursuing a higher degree. He can play “anything with strings” to perfection, and Jimin is one of the best modern dancers in the contemporary scene. He doesn’t need to audition for anything or finish his graduate school; he could have any offer he wanted and go anywhere in the world.
Jeongguk gets calls from gallery directors who boldly tell him how much they love his art, but they can’t tell him a single thing about it, not even one title. Sometimes, his pieces sell. It should be a wonderful thing, but instead it’s just confusing, because there’s never been a gallery show to sell them at. It’s just that some of the pieces he sends as samples get sold when Jeongguk drags his feet about calling back.
Even at school, when students listed prices next to their work for show rather than sport, Jeongguk sold things. And his weren’t to family members - his were to anonymous buyers.
His peers thought him ungrateful at the time because of his lackluster response. Jeongguk just knows they’re not that good. He’s mediocre at best, and it all feels unfair. Thrust under a spotlight, some of his interests dwindled away, and sometimes, it feels like Jimin and Taehyung are part of that. They get to go on and do wonderful things, and Jeongguk will be happy for them. From here. From afar.
Jeongguk just happens to be standing in front of a jewelry store because it's almost Christmas and it's snowing out, and diamonds are pretty. A couple comes out of the store, young and giggling, maybe freshly mated, and Jeongguk stares at his reflection in the window. If he stands in just the right spot, it looks like he's wearing the diamond collar in the display. It’s thick - not just a delicate strand. It fits tight against the blue velvet stand and it’s a solid inch in height of diamonds all the way around.
"It's pretty," a deep voice says, one that Jeongguk shouldn’t be able to recognize but does. "It suits you."
Jeongguk gasps, he can’t help it. When he whirls around, the alpha from the club stands in a duster length camel coat with his scent covering everything, including him. "Oh, I was just looking. I obviously - um - I obviously couldn’t wear it."
The man cocks his head to the side. "It’s a collar. You could wear it. If you want to. If your alpha wants you to.”
And Jeongguk flushes, because looking at the collar he can see it. Imagines himself on his knees for someone, this alpha, just because he's convenient and handsome. “I don’t have an alpha. I can’t, yet. Maybe ever.”
When the alpha steps inside the store, Jeongguk tells himself he can’t be upset. The man probably has shopping to do, and Jeongguk is wasting his important time. He meanders away and is circling the fountain in the square when the alpha comes around in front of him. It feels like they’re trains on a track, set to collide. One minute, Jeongguk sees nothing but his own dusty footprints in the snow, the next he looks up and he’s there. Walking in front of him to meet him with the same intense look on his face.
He doesn't know the alpha’s name, doesn't know the smile on his face, but when he steps into his orbit, Jeongguk stops. The alpha pulls a large black box out of the deep pocket of his overcoat. Slowly opens the lid with it pointed outwards towards Jeongguk, like it’s being presented to him.
There's no surprise as to what's inside. Surprise as to why a stranger bought it, why he's sliding it around Jeongguk’s neck without asking, sure. But Jeongguk feels hypnotized by the scent. It seems even stronger now, increasingly so. Why do people have to cover their scents? His is so lovely. Jeongguk wants to roll in it, wants to throw all polite decorum away so he can stick his face into this man’s chest and rub, rub, rub his nose in that luscious coat.
Jeongguk jolts when he remembers what is happening - a collar! An alpha is collaring him! A stranger! In public!
Jeongguk takes a quick step back. “W-what are you doing?”
The alpha’s eyes can’t look away from his neck. Jeongguk can see his pulse, racing under his skin. There’s a little spot in his neck that jumps quickly. His eyes are dilated to black. “It isn’t what it should be, but it will do for now.”
“I can’t - I can’t wear this!” Jeongguk reaches for it, almost touches it, but he can’t. He isn’t allowed to. Only alphas. “I’m not an omega.” He’s nothing yet.
“Do you like it?” he asks him, as if that’s a simple question.
“I don’t - I don’t know!” Jeongguk would take another step back if his body allowed.
“It suits you. The grade could be higher, but.” He smiles. It’s full of dimple. “It would be a fine first collar.”
First collars are usually cotton, maybe velvet. Something inexpensive and practical. Something soft.
“Would you like the matching earrings?” the alpha asks, tilting his shoulder back towards the jewelry store. He has to look down to view the collar on Jeongguk’s neck as he pleases, apparently. Jeongguk also doesn’t make it easy for him, hunching up and hiding under his gaze.
“But - it’s not mine. Who did you buy it for?” Jeongguk asks. Surely, this man has someone at home he’s imagining in such a collar.
“It is yours, if you accept. Keep it. Do whatever you want with it.”
Collars are gifted for one purpose only; to display status. Alphas gift them to omegas, or some betas to omegas, when they are claimed and mated. No one would have need for one who isn’t mated. Flabbergasted doesn’t cover what Jeongguk feels; collars are a gift of the most intimate nature. He couldn’t even imagine a scene from a movie where some random alpha buys someone they don’t know a collar for fun, it would be a sick joke, and something like this? A diamond collar? Designed for - Jeongguk doesn’t know - high society to wear?
The alpha takes a step back, then another. His footsteps are bigger in the snow, more angular from the style of boot he wears.
“Wait! Where are you going? I can’t wear this! I’m not an omega!” And even if he were, he isn’t anything to this alpha. The man chuckles, stepping back closer to him so Jeongguk can relax. It’s fine. He’ll take it off now. It was a joke, but it’s ending.
He doesn’t remove it. Instead, he flips up Jeongguk’s hoodie so it’s covering his hair, but he’s already wet. He frowns, and for a second Jeongguk thinks he’s going to offer his own coat which still somehow looks dry and repellant to snow, but Jeongguk can’t wear something with a scent on it! He probably wouldn’t make it home. Someone might stop him, make trouble for a little wimpy thing who lets his scent hang out. They might not realize it isn’t his!
“Go home. Get warm,” the alpha says. How ridiculous he must look to him wearing the collar. Wearing a diamond collar under his grungy black hoodie.
“Please,” Jeongguk whimpers. He’s so confused. Nothing like this happens to people. He can’t even fathom the idea of watching someone take on or off a collar in public. “Please take it off.”
“I will, if you really want me to.” He slips one of his big hands under the hood and rests it there against the back of his neck, open and warm. Jeongguk melts on the spot, swaying into his chest, eyes fluttering. Oh.
Oh.
What was he saying?
That smell is - it’s so lovely. And everything is so soft. The weight on his neck is nice, grounding.
A chuckle. “Wear it home, baby. You can take it off later, if you want.” The hand on his neck rubs. It rubs and therefore it’s touching him.
It’s the gentlest touch he’s maybe ever received.
“...What?”
“Be safe now. I’ll see you again.”
“You will?” It sounds like his mouth is stuffed full of cotton. His head is certainly stuffed full of it.
“I’m sure of it. I’ll make it happen.”
“Can I know your name then?”
Laughter. If he looks up, he might see those dimples too close to escape their gravitational pull. “It’s Namjoon.”
The alpha gently guides him into a walk with the hand on his neck, and when Jeongguk’s feet continue to move on their own, the alpha drops his hand. “Oh. Jeongguk. I’m Jeongguk,” he manages to mumble.
“Be well, Jeongguk-ssi.”
It’s the same experience as Namjoon stepping into his path by the fountain; one second he’s there, the next, he’s gone. It’s just Jeongguk trudging along in a daze towards his apartment.
Namjoon steered him in the right direction at least. Jeongguk might not have managed on his own. Namjoon. What a handsome name. Namjoon. It’s pretty in his head even. Like it has its own rhythm and cadence. Namjoon.
Every step he takes makes the scent haze around him clearer. By the time he’s walked two blocks, Jeongguk panics. What the fuck is he doing? He’s wearing a diamond collar in public that costs more than a year or two or three of rent. He doesn’t know! It’s mostly obscured from the sight of people on the street by the hoodie, but Jeongguk picks up the pace to his apartment, hands tugging the hood tighter around his face.
He’s shaking when he walks through the front door. It’s partially from the cold and sitting outside damp for so long, but it’s also everything else. He has to get this thing off, now. But what’s he going to do with it? Where will he put it? Can he just take it back to the store? He doesn’t want them to think he stole it, because he clearly didn’t buy it himself. Shit. He can’t exactly leave it on his bedside table either.
Jeongguk realizes he’s making some sort of pathetic sound, something between a strangled cry and a groan. He collapses to his knees as he kicks off his shoes, the floor far warmer than his hands. There’s an itch under his skin, a compulsion to crawl into the darkest room he can find with the biggest blanket, maybe multiple blankets. Maybe he can stay inside for a couple of days with some cozy candles and forget this happened.
“Ggukie!” A voice calls from further within. Shit - Taehyung’s here. Jeongguk shudders; the thought of company right now makes him feel sick. “What are you doing? Get your butt in here!”
Jeongguk doesn’t move. It’s primal, something that tells him to stay still and silent and maybe Taehyung won’t find him.
“Jeongguk?” another voice calls - Jimin. “We brought food! You weren’t answering our calls, but I know better than to think you’ve already had dinner.”
Taehyung says something to Jimin, just a low rumble to Jeongguk’s ears, and they laugh, but it sounds too far away to be in his apartment. He presses his forehead to the floor and closes his eyes. If he concentrates, he can still smell him. Today, it is more earth than metal.
“Gguk-ah! What are you doing? Let’s eat!” Some footsteps thunder in his direction. Jeongguk sucks in a deep inhale and holds it. “Gguk?”
They’ve found him.
“Shit, are you okay? Chim!”
More footsteps.
“Jeongguk? Sweetie? What’s wrong? What happened?”
He can feel them crouching over him, Jimin’s warmer fingers gently touching at his shoulder, then working their way down to his chin. Slowly, the beta pulls Jeongguk out of his balled up posture by guiding his chin up to look at him.
Behind Jimin, Taehyung drops the container of food from his hands. It splatters across the floor, the heavy and rich smell of fish sauce and sesame oil a stark contrast to how clean the alpha smelled. It upsets his stomach.
They’re both staring at the collar; of course they are. When Jimin reaches for it, Jeongguk blindly snaps at his fingers with his teeth. He didn’t mean to - it just happens. He’d apologize if he had the words, but he doesn’t know what to say about any of it, so he tries to sullenly curl back up on himself.
“Jeongguk, is there a claim under that collar?” Jimin asks, but it isn't Jimin. Jimin has never sounded like this before. He could sound authoritative when he wanted, sometimes bossed around him and Tae when they needed it, but not like this. This is a voice that you cannot ignore. It’s crisp and clear. There’s no mistaking it for an alpha’s voice, but it demands the same respect. It makes him sit up straighter.
“No? How could there be?” His voice is thin. He doesn’t recognize it either. “I can’t be claimed. I haven’t even presented yet.”
Jimin sits back on heels and exchanges a look with Taehyung behind him. “I hadn’t heard from him all week until this morning.”
Jeongguk didn’t message either of them this morning?
“Shit. What’s this mean?” Taehyung asks, mess forgotten on the floor. What does all this mean? Jeongguk would also like to know. His friends won’t be able to help him either. “Should we even be here?”
Jimin turns back to Jeongguk. The beta was the one to nurse him through his first hangover, who befriended him on almost his first day of classes during university and made sure he always had options for hanging out or spending time alone. A bright spot in his days, equal parts nurturing and raucous fun in his life.
Now, Jeongguk doesn’t recognize the look on Jimin’s face. It’s calculating, or was, because now Jimin looks over him like a puzzle he’s solved and only he knows where the last piece goes.
“Of course. We have a job to do.”