Warnings: Ambiguous Ending, a/b/o dynamics, Alphas Hongjoong Yunho Mingi Yeosang, Omegas Jongho Seonghwa, Humans San Wooyoung, Angst, guns and knives are present, mentions of panic attack, Parents Seongjoong
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Main pairing: 2ho
Side pairing: Seongjoong
Make Me Feel Welcomed
Jongho was assigned to infiltrate the Kim pack. It's dangerous, the Kims are a nomadic pack that recently settled near a hunter camp, Jongho's. They knew, too. Hunters did not hide. They were loud about their location.
Their pack alpha, Kim Hongjoong, has never been seen. But Jongho's heard the whispers. A powerful, demanding man, he runs the pack with an iron fist, so much so his packlings beg for mercy, for death. Because returning with defeat would result in a fate worse.
Jongho knows he's good for the job. Knows because of the Lycan blood that circulates his bloodstream. They'll accept him, because of his Lycan father. He just has to play the part.
They staged it of course. Wooyoung was chasing him through the forest. San, walking towards him. The gunshots rang loud in his ears, whizzing past his head. He screamed when one nicked his ear. Bullets plated in silver cause his skin to melt and peel exposing the gray cartilage and vibrant blood vessels that pulsed red with each contraction of his heart. His skin fizzes, like acid was poured onto his skin. It burns, sending heatwaves down his neck. He slows down, just a tad, to glare at Wooyoung.
He's never seen Wooyoung from this perspective, never been the prey before. A smooth, silver tipped muzzle meets his gaze. Wooyoung doesn't hesitate to pull the trigger. His heart falls, as he ducks down. Wooyoung could kill him. They need it to look authentic, but it's too real. Wooyoung and San are hunting him. He doesn't scream, it gets stuck in his throat. Everything does, as a loud bang echoes through the forest as wood where Jonghos head once was explodes behind him. It rings through his ears, vibrates his ear drums and muddles his mind.
He whines, high and loud. Something hes never done before, but he's never been afraid like this either. His palms sweat, his closed fists clamy and uncomfortable, but if he opens them, they'll shake.
San tackles him from behind, shoving his face into the damp dirt. It tastes of rust, grainy mulch collecting on his tongue.
"Got you," San whispers, prideful.
Fingers graze over the melting skin on his ear. . Sans delicate fingers wrap into the strands of his hair, pulling up, where he can see Wooyoung, stalking closer, silver gun raised. Jongho yelps. They both hesitate, likely fearing they're gone too far.
"Jong-" San barely gets out before hes just gone.
The weight that held him down fully disappeared. Wooyoung goes down as well. Tackled from behind. He didn't even see the alpha come up, didn't smell him. He cries out, because his friends are going to die and it's his fault for getting distracted.
He starts hyperventilating, his vision blurring as the alpha forces Wooyoung's hands behind his back. The alpha is pretty, Jongho thinks, then his vision dulls into nothingness.
~~~
When he awakes, he's strewn over soft furs and fluffy pillows. It’s warm, the fire that burns just passed the doorway heating the tent around them. His ear pulses warmly, it’s uncomfortable, but not terrible. Wholly, he feels okay, his body aches though.
San. Wooyoung.
Where are they? Jongho feels the panic settles in, his heart racing. He tries to stand, only to realize his ankle is shackled to a post. Frustrated tears prick at the corner of his eyes as he tries to pull the metal clasp apart, clawing desperately.
"No, no, please-"
"Calm down," he hears a soft voice from the doorway.
He stills, body freezes. They're an omega, though mated to someone with an overpowering scent of cedar wood. Jongho dares a glance. He’s beautiful, Jongho finds. With high cheekbones, plush pink lips, and a mother’s glow. His eyes wrinkle with his smile, showing cracks of old age.
Jongho has never seen an omega before this. Most of what he saw were half formed alpha warriors, whose bodies were carried to camp and presented as trophies. Their bodies deformed, covered in gray skin and silver hair, with eyes like blood, and claws like wolves. He appears mostly human. Jongho doesn’t know how humans could truly tell the difference.
"We just needed to make sure you wouldn't run when you woke up, if you promise not to, I'll take it off," he speaks so slow, with a butter smooth voice. "Can you do that for me?"
Jongho nods once, breaking eye contact to stare at the floor. He knows he has to play his cards right. Act stupid, use his human blood to his advantage.
The omega produces a key from his long, draped sleeves. When he bends over, his hands hesitate over Jongho’s exposed ankle.
"Can I touch you?" He tries to look Jongho in the eyes, but Jongho won’t let him.
"Yes."
From this close, the omegas gray hairs stand strong against the blond. His hands make quick work of the contraption. It falls from his ankle with an unceremonious clank. He's free, though he forces himself to stay.
"So, what was an unmated omega doing running through the forest alone?"
"I-I'm an omega?" Jongho didn't mean to say it. Didn't even realize what he was saying until it spilled from his lips.
Jongho instinctively could smell the differences between alpha, omega, and beta, though he had no way of knowing himself. The humans never told him, his secondary sex, even when he presented, he was just given a warm tea that burned his throat. At the time, Jongho assumed he was a beta. He had one rough night, though his body went through so little change, it made sense. He wonders if that’s why his adoptive father accepted him, because he wasn’t a dangerous alpha, and would never be one.
Everyday Jongho drank that same bitter tea, though the burning turned warm and welcomed. He never questioned why Wooyoung and San weren’t given the same one, just assumed it was his mothers terrible cooking.
His father always taught that these packs are highly segregated. Alphas are rulers, leaders, while omegas were made to stay at home, to cook and clean and slave for their alphas. They’re made to be weak, pathetic. But this omega doesn't seem weak, or pathetic. He’s lean, toned with hard muscles, and scars littering his tan skin. A hunting knife sits against his side, tucked into a hold, though loose enough to be easily removed if needed.
"You were raised by the humans," he says.
Jongho nods again. "My mother was a human, my father an alpha. He was killed by hunters," after killing my mother, "and they took me in. When they realized… what I was-" Jongho choked a bit.
He remembers when he presented. The look of unadulterated horror on his adoptive father’s face. The panic, when Jongho smiled with his sharp fangs meant to tear people apart, his black claws meant for shredding.
"Oh baby, I'm so sorry," he whispers.
Jongho nods once.
"What, did you do- to, to the humans?" He asks once.
"Currently, they're being guarded," was all the omega offered.
Jongho didn't push.
It took a while to discover who this omega was, though eventually he met the entire family. Three sons, the ones who found Jongho in the forest, the eldest, Yunho, the middle, Yeosang, and the youngest, Mingi, as well as their Oma Seonghwa, and their Ala Kim Hongjoong. Oma, as Seonghwa explained, was the Lycan equivalent of mother. Oma was for any omega, and Ala for any alpha.
Hongjoong is short, smaller than Seonghwa. He has elf-like features, soft cheeks, but a sharp nose and jaw. He spouts no gray hairs, somehow it still sits black and sleek, despite being twice Jongho’s age. Just like Seonghwa, he was fully lean muscle, toned. His skin was a milky white, and Jongho has to wonder how, since he spends so much time outdoors.
When Hongjoong notices Jongho’s curious eyes, darting between his eyes and nails, he laughs, explaining that he can shift. He only changes his eyes in front of Jongho. His natural color is a hazel, though it disappears into a black with a blind. Jongho finds that he’s likely stuck because of his human blood.
Different.
Jongho stayed with Seonghwa and Hongjoong, as they did not want him, an unmated omega, sharing space with their three alpha sons.
"You cannot trust those alphas, even if they're my sons, I have to keep you safe," Oma once said.
Yunho is the kindest, who often came to check in on him. Left him small gifts such as pelts and jewelry. He likely felt bad for him, Seonghwa said. Because Jongho was so scared that day in the forest, he feels guilty for not coming sooner. He makes Jongho feel guilty.
Ala asked Yunho to teach Jongho about the way of the pack. To show him how they live, how they operate. Surprisingly, they're nothing like the stories Jongho heard growing up. There are rules in place to protect omegas, to ensure their safety from alphas. Omegas run the camp, for the most part, since alphas are off hunting or patrolling, though both roles are equal.
He walks him through the pack daily, introducing him to all they come across. Jongho’s mesmerized by just how much he knows. All omegas older than Yunho he calls Oma, because the pack is a family. Yunho explains how the omegas all raise pups together. They do not turn children away.
It happens often. Unruly youngins running from tent to tent, chasing after each other while Omas scream and laugh. There is a level of respect that the children earn. They are afforded play time just as often they are made to learn. Each time they pass, Yunho smiles at them, softens at their presence. He wants kids, he explained once. Says that he adores them. He notes his own Oma in the moment, the strong, stern omega with soft eyes. Oma raised him to respect the land, to take just enough to live. Oma taught him to swim, to hunt, to read and write. Yunho wants that too, wants something to love, and someone to love with.
Jongho didn’t want kids before meeting the Kims.
Yeosang is chivalrous. He always offers Jongho the right of way, always holds open doors (though its not like there are actual doors here, just pelts blocking tent doorways), and offers Jongho things like flowers. He’s very sweet and shy too, offering shy smiles and cute waves. Jongho wishes each exchange didn't fill him with dread.
He teaches Jongho the pack order. The Kim’s are the leaders. Under them are the warriors and their omegas. Merchants, farmers, and hunters are on the same level. Ala calls them the blood of the pack, the warriors might be the ones who protect, but the merchants and farmers feed them, clothe them. Without them, there is nothing.
Yeosang’s main job is to watch the prison. He spends most of his day tending to them, even personally cooks for the prisoners. This is where Wooyoung and San reside. Jongho knows because he's heard them before. The prison is still a tent, the walls are fabric. Walking by he can hear them talking lowly, sharing whispers. Yeosang always shoos his away because he doesn’t want to frighten the omega. Jongho doesn’t know how to explain that San and Wooyoung don’t scare him.
Mingi is wild, a partier. He shows Jongho how he can have fun. Shows him places where he can go swimming in the nearby lakes. Jongho doesn’t mention that he’s been there a thousand times with the very friends rotting in their prison. Introduces him to the young omegas in their pack. Gets him to make friends, who accept him for who he is. Though its not like San and Wooyoung didn’t not accept him.
It takes a week for Jongho to go into heat. He’s never experienced a heat before this. Seonghwa says it’s likely because they were slipping him wolfsbane, a natural hormone suppressant for Lycans. The omegas take care of him the entire time. They hold him close, cuddle and coddle him, feed and bath him, protected him from alphas that might be lurking. His entire body hurts, the Oma’s say it’s because he only ever had one heat.
Jongho doesn’t immediately recognize the scent of the shirts placed in his hands at the start of each day. Its warm though, ignites a small fire in the pit of his belly. It smells of the forest, earthy and cool. It takes three days of this, to recognize the new shirt that’s being placed into his arms. A cream button down, decorated with small cherry wood buttons. He’d seen Yunho wear it once, recalled the way it tailored to his waist and hugged his broad shoulders. The wrists flared out, covering Yunho’s knuckles. Jongho couldn’t believe it at first. But Oma confirmed it when questioned. It makes his heart swell.
He feels safe, in the hands of the omegas. He briefly wonders about Wooyoung and San, if they feel safe, ankles chained to the damp dirt floor of their prison. Does Yeosang treat them well? Does Mingi’s daily visits make them laugh ever? Are they hurt?
Jongho doesn’t remember much from his heat. All he can really remember is the pain, the heat, the unholy desires for a certain alpha.
Yunho greets him when he first awakens. The pain of his heat no longer pains him. It doesn’t hurt to stand. Oma still hovers in the doorway; Jongho doesn’t miss the flash of the blade, as it slides back into his long blue sleeves. The omega smiles warmly, winks. The knife isn’t for him.
Yunho takes him swimming. Says that its refreshing after a rut and must be the same for a heat. The cool water raises hairs as he walks into the lake. Fish scatter under the clear water, disappearing faster than the ripples can reach them. The water flows slowly, meandering over smooth river rock. The water makes his thin shorts halo around his thighs. How long had it been since San or Wooyoung were allowed to swim?
The birds sing in tune with the wind, whistling high and sweet. From the shoreside, the reflection of the trees dance lazily on the water, swaying with the chilled wind. The water flows and trickles over the rocks, merging into a small waterfall at the water’s edge. Yunho watches from the trees, as Jongho steps into the scene.
His footsteps are silent, until they wade in the shallow waters behind. Warm, strong arms wrap around his shoulders, pulled him in. Jongho’s back rests against Yunho’s front. They watch together, silently. As the world around them ebbs and flows quietly.
“I need to tell you something.”
“Anything,” Yunho whispers into the exposed skin of his neck, lips grazing skin.
There is nothing to say, yet everything. The weight of this burden has been cumbersome, and the task of lifting it was always too daunting. Jongho finally belongs, and yet he is still an outsider by blood.
“San and Wooyoung are my friends,” Jongho says into the wind.
Yunho stills, arms flexing and holding him down, “I understand, you are from their camp-“
Jongho pulls, Yunho does not let them go. They step deeper into the water, kicking up mud and dirt. Disturbing the once clear lake.
“I am with them. This was my mission. To infiltrate, to kill Ala.”
The birds stop singing so sweetly. Their songs quicken, as the wind stills around them. Maybe they watch from their perches, as the two below quarrel so calmly. Like honey and oil, wholly unalike, yet they collide despite.
Yunho holds him closer, pulls him tighter. Jongho’s chest cannot inflate, he’s choking. Yunho encompasses him, surrounds him in soured scent. Jongho does not struggle, does not even move. He allows Yunho to surround him, relaxes into it even.
“You must never tell Ala. Oma can never hear of this.”
Yunho lets him go, removing his warmth and stability. Jongho falls back, into the cool waters. The sunlight cascades through the murky waters, dirtied by him. He should never have agreed to this. Should have known he couldn’t. Father always said he was too soft, maybe it’s true. He sucks in a breath, under the water, the burn cooled by water itself. But Jongho does not want to die.
When he arises, he coughs, sputtering and choking as his lungs desperately squeeze out the unwelcome liquid. It hurts more this way, though he accepts the pain. He deserves this, for the pain he’s caused his friends.
The burn lasts longer than the coughing fit. Yunho watches from the side of the pool, makes no effort to assist. He doesn’t need help, though a warm hand on his back would be nice. Though he doesn’t deserve it, not really.
“What will become of my friends,” Jongho asks when the coughing finally subsides.
Yunho watches as the sun sets behind the trees, casting yellows and oranges across the clouds.
“I will not tell you,” He speaks low and slow.
“Damn you Yunho, you must tell me,” Jongho pushes.
“I will not. That is between Yeosang and Ala, ther-”
“Then ask Yeosang… For help. They can escape-”
“For Yeosangs head, I think not,” Yunho stands, dusting his dark trousers. “We must go, it is getting dark.”
“You’re a coward Yunho,” Jongho follows behind with no further qualms.
Its dark, by the time they arrive back home, the night air settles in fog over the campsite, snuffing out the campfire light. Yunho drops him off at the Kims tent in silence. Seonghwa inside, humming as he cooks over the fireplace.
“How was swimming honey?” He asks.
Jongho smiles as best he can, “It was fun!”
Would a knife to the thigh feel better than this burning shame? Guilt weighs so heavily on his heart, and yet he must carry it.
"We're gonna take this over to the kid's tent tonight, why don't you and Ala head over now?"
Hongjoong rises from his spot in the dark corner. Jongho jumps, hadn't realized he was there. Heart thumping nervously in his chest, he nods. He doesn't want to be alone with Ala, he's scared of what might get said, or worse, be left unsaid.
"Why are you nervous?" Hongjoong asks.
Its dark, and cold, Jongho didn't have time to grab a jacket and Ala didn't offer him one either. He shivers, as the cold permeates his skin. His clothes are still damp, though less now. He just wants to lay by the fire and sleep.
"I-Ala…" the omega worries his lip between his teeth, "I don't know how to tell you," Jongho stops, and looks down.
"Is this about your friends?"
Jonghos head shoots up, searching Hongjoongs eyes in the dark. He wants to cry. He feels sick, because Ala knows.
"We'll discuss this later, for now, why don't we just eat?" He smiles, white fangs on full display. A predator.
Jongho nods and walks in silence the rest of the way. They're on opposite sides of the camp, to offer the most protection to the people. Its how Yunho heard his screams that day, because if he hadn't, no one would have came.
Theres smoke bellowing from inside the tent, the center open to release smoke. An unrecognizable figure stands outside, near the back. Jongho shouldn't see him, he realizes. He's not supposed to.
If I run now, he'll surely catch me.
Jongho plays along. Walks into the tent willingly. Its worse inside, worse than he could imagine. Yunho stands just before the fire. On either side, Wooyoung and San stand.
Yeosang holds Wooyoungs bound hands with one, a silver knife glinting dangerously. They're expressionless, both of them. Wooyoung won't acknowledge him, stares forward to the light dancing on the tents wall. He looks okay, he's not noticeably lost weight, he's not bruised or scraped.
Mingi holds San, close to his chest. It looks more defensive than anything. One hand resting on Sans waist, in the other, a knife all too similar to Yeosangs. San looks slightly worse, a bruise in his eye and cut on his lip, though they look old and healing. Could it be from that day in the woods? Sans eyes shine with tears, though he still offers Jongho a short nod.
Hongjoong kicks him, the heel of his boot digging into the small of his back, causing him to fall forward. Jonghos catches himself, just before the dancing fire. Landing so close he can feel the hairs on his knuckle sear in the heat. He tries to escape it, to crawl backwards, but Yunho is on top of him faster than he can cry out. The alpha roughly grabs his wrists, yanking them behind his back. Jongho's should screams in agony from the unnatural twisting, muscles convulsing under skin in shock. He whimpers loudly, Yunho sighs and moves his arm more gently. His right arm hangs lamely beside, bitter agony erupting down his spine in protest to each twinge of muscle.
"Yeosang and Mingi filled you in then?" Hongjoong asks as Yunho physically raises Jongho, like it's easy.
Jongho is made to stand with his back to Yunho. He can feel, from their close proximity, each shaky breath the alpha draws. He's nervous, though his scent is completely neutral.
The flames flicker in Hongjoongs eyes as he stares; forces eye contact with Jongho. In his hand, a staff, painted black, except the top, where a small skull sits. This is the Kim Hongjoong father warned me of.
