Ë Ęđ„.âïž.đ„ Ę Ë hi hey hello!! most of my writing is 18+ and nsfw, so minors dni. i try to keep my tags and warnings clear so if you don't like something, don't read it. english is not my first language, if you see any misspellings please let me know - but be kind about it. thank you for taking some time to read my work! i hope you have a nice time here! i love getting feedback and i'm grateful for every single like, reblog and interaction, always feel free to talk to me! Ë Ęđ„.âïž.đ„ Ę Ë
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⊠The Turn of the Seasons | LMH x reader | fwb to lovers | fluff, smut, parents to be | completed | 91.3k
âł When you call, Minho answers. When Minho texts, you reply. It has always been as simple as that.
⊠city life, apple pie | SCB x reader | friends to lovers | a/b/o, idiots in love, brother's best friend, fluff, smut | ongoing
âł Lost papers, misplaced keys. You shouldâve seen this coming, everything always ends up at the cafe.
âââââââââââââïœĄÂ° â·
â· BTS
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⊠Prank Wars | JJK x reader | enemies to lovers | angst, fluff, smut | hiatus | 32.3k
âł âYou know what? Fuck you!â Just before the elevatorâs door closed, you could hear his response, âyou already did.â
> genre | a/b/o, friends to lovers, brother's best friend, fluff, smut, romcom vibe, MDNI.
> chapter warnings |Â a/b/o dynamics, explicit language, implied and explicit sexual content, ruts and heats, unprotected sex, soft dom dynamics, a liiiitle breeding kink.
> A/N |Â this one got out of control lol
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03. like accepting fate
There are five days left of your holiday break when your heat subsides. Four, when you decide it is safe to go out again.
You had managed to convince Hyunjin to drive down without you. Miraculously, you also made him agree to not tell your parents anything about what had happened. They already worried enough about you as it was, no need to pile up anything else.
Of course that would come with a cost. Not now. Not while you still had worry and care on your side. But your twin was not one to let things go that easily, so you know you will have to talk about it eventually.
The group chat had also been updated about your return to civilisation. Word had gotten around, youâre sure about that, none of you could ever stay out of each otherâs business for too long. But the chat itself had been unusually quiet these past few days - which only corroborated with your theory that they had a separate space to talk without you.
You shouldnât feel uneasy about it. Itâs not like the principle of it bothered you at all. You understood that a lot of them had been friends before you, and being the only constant girl in your tight knit group meant you understood that sometimes they just wanted to be boys.
But you also could not avoid the trigger that being chased brought up. You remember how alone you had felt after the first time it happened. The drifting apart from people that just didnât get it. So you were feeling fragile, what about it? It wouldnât stop you from texting them, from going out, from being their friend.
Even if they acted a little weird for a bit, a little out of character. You could handle it.
Hyunjin for sure would not have told them about what had happened before. Your brother was many things, but he would never betray your trust like that. Changbin wouldnât either, you think, but given the recent events you were eager to talk to him about it.
Good thing you wouldnât have to wait long for that.
Hyunjin had texted you the night before, when you told him you were done with your heat, that Changbin had offered to drive down with you if you were still feeling up for it.
You donât question it too much. Your hometown was on the way to his and, although you had assumed he would have taken the trip for the holiday earlier in the week, it was also easy to guess that being the owner of a gym and giving all your trusted employees days off at the same time probably left himself with little time off.
Seungmin was the one to finally gossip to you about what had happened. On a video call while you finish packing, your friend was using talking to you as an excuse to run away from his family for a bit. You appreciate how he skips over the whole ordeal, asking a quick you okay? before diving straight into everything that happened on the days you were locked away from everything.
âSo then Chan hyung got really mad because apparently he wonât be able to get a refill on timeâ, your friend finishes his side of the whole thing, as the person who was hanging out with Chan when Jisung had to explain to the oldest why he had stolen the suppressants.
âI didnât even know Chan took thoseâ, you start, âbut it makes sense, he is a control freakâ
âYou remember I also take them, right?â you donât even need to look at the screen to know what face he is pulling, one eyebrow raised in defiance.
âYeah, but when you do it itâs historical reparationâ, you donât even stop your mechanical folding of clothes, âitâs an omega taking matters into his own hands, having ownership over his body, not falling victim to what instincts expects of himâ
âAnd when Chan does it he is a control freakâ
âNow you get it,â you wink at him and see that he is fighting back a little grin too.
His expression changes, as if catching up with his thoughts after drifting too far.
âWhy are you not asking me about Changbin hyung?â
âWhat is there to ask? I was in heat, heâs an alpha, Iâm not surprised it triggered his rutâ
âNo, you donât get it. Changbin has the steadiest cycle I have ever seen, itâs never this earlyâ, he lowers his voice, probably avoiding the prying ears of his younger cousins.
âHow would you even know that? Do you have his cycle memorised or something?â
âHis scent is sickening, I need to know to stay away when his rut is nearâ
You somehow feel offended by the statement. What does he mean by Changbinâs scent being sickening? It is, objectively speaking, the best scent you had ever came across. Seungmin is probably just being Seungmin about it. You shake your head, getting back on track.
âStill, thatâs how it worksâ
âIf thatâs how it works, have you ever triggered anyone elseâs rut before?â
âWell, noâ, you donât need to give it much thought, you assume you would know if it had happened, âbut still.â
âNah, it is weird and if youâre not ready for this conversation thatâs fine but donât blame it on biologyâ, he is letting go of the subject for now, but not for good.
âItâs literally biologyâ, you insist.
âYeah, sure honey, you look so pretty when you act dumbâ
You roll your eyes. Sometimes you wish Felix was an omega instead of a beta, heâd be much easier to talk to about these things. You know you are not fooling Seungmin. Youâre not even sure youâre fooling yourself. But blaming it on biology is a lot less scary than to consider what else it could mean.
A text notification comes through, obscuring part of Seungminâs forehead on the screen.
changbin
leaving now
be there in 10
âOk I have to go, Changbinâs on his wayâ, you interrupt whatever it is Seungmin has started to complain about. Truth be told, you stopped hearing it the minute the texts popped down.
Good thing he is used to it by now. He doesnât act offended by the sudden stop to the conversation, your goodbyes are short but sweet enough to wish each other a nice rest of the break.
The time runs out just as you finish shoving clothes inside your backpack, with another text letting you know Changbin is downstairs.
You take deep breaths as you go down the elevator. You should apologize to him, right? Definitely thank him too, as well.
Heâs waiting outside of his car, leaning back into it, arms folded in front of his chest. He has a dark shirt on, a cap pushing his hair down so it curls right above his eyebrows. His face is taken by a small smile as you approach, and he moves to open the trunk for you to place down your bag.
âYou alright?â is the first thing he asks, and you smile back before nodding.
Itâs not confident, but itâs honest.
He lets it slide.
He walks you to the passenger seat, opening the door for you. You canât contain the giggle at the awkwardness of the moment. Thatâs not like him.
âOh what a gentlemanâ, you tease.
He rolls his eyes but, as he walks over to his own seat, you can see that the corners of his lips betray him in a smile.
The first few minutes of the trip are filled with music discussions and a never ending back and forth over what the road trip soundtrack should be. Once you settle on a fair middle ground, picking some old songs you are both into, the shared space grows quiet, almost uncomfortably so.
You can tell Changbin wants to say something.
You wonder if heâs feeling awkward about the whole situation too.
So you clean your throat to catch his attention, his eyes sneaking away from the road to look at you for an instant.
âNeed some water?â heâs already moving to reach for the bottle between the seats.
You stop him, one hand resting on top of his, frozen mid movement.
âNo Changbin, listenâ, you start.
He keeps his hand still. Youâre probably holding him too tightly so you let go. His palm hovers for half a second before he brings it back to the steering wheel. He waits, you donât know where to start but now itâs too late to go back.
âI wanted to thank youâ, your voice is small, you decide facing the road too is better than facing him, âI didnât mean to bring you guys trouble but Iâm glad you were thereâ
He is quiet, considering your words.
âI was worried about youâ, he admits. At least it sounds like an admission, he keeps his voice down, throat raspy.
You donât know how to reply to that, so you stick to your inicial plan, âand I also wanted to apologizeâ
This time his reply comes quick and sounds indignant.
âWhat for?â
âWell, last weekâ, you still can bring yourself to look at him.
âWhy are you apologising for that?â he sounds genuinely confused, âit is literally not your fault.â
âNo, not that, the other thingâ, you feel your cheeks starting to warm, but youâre confident he also has his eyes on the road, âI know itâs just biology but still, Iâm sorry I triggered your rut.â
âYou didnâtâ, it comes out like a bite.
âI didnât?â so itâs your turn to sound confused.
âI suppressed it.â
âYou suppressed it.â
âAre you a parrot?â he lets amusement bleed through the notes of his words.
âNo, sorryâ, youâre sure your entire face is red by now, âI mean, I know, Seungmin told me.â
âOf course he didâ, you see him shaking his head on the corner of your vision.
You give him a moment to continue, but he doesnât. You are still curious, though.
âI thought you didnât do suppressantsâ
âI donâtâ
âThenâŠ?â
âI donât know, it was just bad timingâ
âSo I did trigger itâ
He goes quiet again.
âChangbin?â you finally look at him, trying to understand the shift in his posture. His shoulders are suddenly tense, the veins on his arms more apparent due to how heâs gripping the wheel.
âYeah, I guessâ, he nods only once, slow and defeated.
âSo can you accept my apology?â
He nods once more, curtly.
âThank you, was that so hard?â you try to keep your voice light, dust off the last bits of awkwardness. Thatâs not how it usually is between the two of you.
The silence grows roots anyway. You canât think of a way to break it again, so you focus on the road, ears turning to the soft music coming out of the radio. There are barely any cars around, you donât really know where you are. Changbin probably took an alternative route, you knew he appreciated the scenic views of a long drive.
âItâs not just biologyâ, he pulls you back from your thoughts.
âWhat?â
âItâs not just biologyâ
âI got it the first time, but what do you mean?â
âYou triggered my rutâ
âYeah, weâve been over that, Iâm sorryâ and you mean it. You donât know why heâs going back to that but you donât mind apologising a few more times if needed.
âIt was not because of biologyâ, his knuckles are turning white, heâs gripping the wheel again.
You soften your voice, âof course itâs because of biology, Binâ
âMinho hyung never triggered my rut. Neither did Seungminâ.
âOk, so?â cheeks burning again, youâre glad that you had put on the stronger blockers that morning, otherwise the scent of mango would be overpowering by now, âI was an omega openly in heat, itâs not the sameâ
âIâve been around Seungmin when heâs in heatâ, and thatâs news to you but you donât allow your mind to latch onto that for too long.
âSo what are you saying?â, your voice is small now.
You donât mean to, but the conversation went on for longer than you anticipated. Even if you were comfortable with each other, having discussed similar things before, it was still a bit embarrassing - specially considering the dramatics of recent events.
âIâm saying you triggered my rutâ, he takes a deep breath in, adjusts his hands on the steering wheel, âbecause I like youâ
Your breath hitches.
Youâre quiet.
Too quiet.
Changbin sneaks a glance over but he canât keep his eyes from the road for too long.
âPlease say something?â he pleads.
âSorry Iâm processingâ, itâs closer to a mumble than to proper words.
He nods along, âyouâre processingâ
âYou like meâ, you are laser focused on his hands, still gripping.
âI like you.â
âStop thatâ, you finally look at his face.
âStop liking you?â he frowns.
âNo, the parrotingâ, please donât stop liking me.
âSorryâ, his ears turn red. His shoulders relax, if only just slightly.
âSoâŠ?â you want him to say more, you need him to say more.
âYeahâ, it sounds almost defeated, like heâs been pushing against something heavy for a long while and finally realised his strength alone is not enough this time.
âYou like meâ, you push. Because you can. Because you need a little more time to process. Because your stomach is tied in knots already.
âA lot, yeahâ, itâs such an easy confirmation coming from him, no longer defeated. Resigned. Like accepting his fate.
âSince when?â
âI donât knowâ, heâs lying, he has a tell.
âYou donât knowâ, so you push, again.
âSince the papersâ, you have no idea what heâs talking about and the lack of a quick reply for once gives you away. âThat time I drove Felix to drop off your papers? You kept his hoodie for your heatâ
It triggers the memory. You bring your attention back to the road, you canât concentrate if you keep looking at his face. That had happened a few months ago, itâs not like you kept thinking about it once you managed to hand in your assignment. You would never have guessed, he kept acting the same as always.
âSince then?â youâre still processing, trying to trace back to see if there were any signs.
âYup, I got jealousâ, your head snaps back towards him. Heâs still frowning.
âYou got jealous? I didnât think you got jealousâ
âI donâtâ, you force your eyes away again.
Changbin had introduced people he was seeing to you and your friends before. Never something serious, but there were times when they lingered for a little bit. He never seemed like the jealous type though. The group had talks about it every now and then, funny enough the betas were usually the jealous ones, even if alphas had the fame of being possessive. Jeongin and Felix reacted like polar opposites to it, with the maknae growing cold while the other acted up, giving whoever was making him jealous a taste of their own medicine.
Your brother was the most clingy to whoever it was he was seeing, most of the time. Then Jisung, probably, even if it had been a while since he last brought someone to a hang out. Chan and Changbin would be on even grounds, for different reasons. Chan was too good of a guy - and too busy to waste time on jealousy. Changbin just didnât seem to care that much, a quiet confidence that was honestly sexy.
Youâve gone quiet again, so he takes it as a sign to continue, like he needs to explain himself. Defend himself. Heâs humorous but you can tell it means a lot to him that you know.
âIt was the first time, sent me into a whole spiral, Chan hyung had to give me way too many pep talks about itâ
Your brain latches onto the wrong thing, âChan knew?â
âNot really, but he might have guessed,â Changbin pauses, considers if he should go on. Does it anyway, âI asked him if he liked youâ
âWhat?â your mind goes back to the talk from a few weeks back.
His seem to do the same, âthat was before you told me you were not into him, ok?â
Both of you allow the silence to settle that time. You still need a bit more.
âDoes Chan like me?â
Changbin remains quiet, eyebrows creased. Did you say the wrong thing? He doesnât give you enough time to rephrase it, though.
âHe thinks you are annoyingâ
You give that thought a spin, see what it makes you feel. Did you like Chan? You had been spending a lot more time with him recently, growing to learn a lot more about why he acted like he did. But no, you didnât like Chan, not like you liked Changbin. Oh.
âThat checks out, I also think heâs annoyingâ, you say and sees Changbin visibly relax, âand did you talk to Felix?â
He glances at you again, confusion taking over.
âWhen you got jealous, did you talk to Felix about it?â you were probably asking the wrong questions, but this felt safer, this line of conversation kept you comfortably away from the elephant in the room.
âNot really,â he replies, considers if he should go on again but itâs not like thereâs any point keeping something from you now, âI think he did have a crush on you, though, so I didnât want to be an asshole about itâ
And once more you take time to consider that. Itâs a quicker dismissal than Chanâs. Felix flirts for sport, you donât think he really likes anyone. And you knew he helped your brother through his ruts sometimes so thatâs an immediate and strong no from your part.
âI didnât take the hoodie because of Felixâ, you feel like you owe him something back, he had been nothing but honest until now.
His attention flicks back to you again, quicker this time.
âSo why?â
âI took the hoodie because it smelled like youâ, you admit. You donât dare to turn, donât want to see how he reacts to that.
You had known that for a little while. Truth be told, probably longer than âa littleâ while.
Changbinâs scent was always your favorite. At first you noted it down as it just being the alpha smell, rich and comforting. But that idea was discarded soon enough into your relationship. He was always friendly with you, even on that very beginning, amidst the awkwardness of being thrown into a group of new people. But then again, he was friendly to everyone.
Whenever he brought someone he was seeing to meet the group, it always seemed casual. He didnât act as if he was looking for anything serious so you kind of assumed he would never be the type to pursue someone, to confess his feelings and all that. You, however, was a romantic at heart. You craved the attention and the commitment. So even though Changbin was your type to the very core, you never allowed yourself to think too deeply about it. Yes, you were attracted to him. He was probably your favorite person to talk to. You felt a pull towards him you couldnât really explain.
And here he is, saying he likes you. Like a teenager confessing to his crush, but once again with that quiet confidence you so admire.
âI think I like you tooâ, you blurt out.
The car swerves but heâs quick to regain control.
âYou do?â his pitch goes a little bit high.
âI doâ, and you sound confident. You are confident. He deserves confidence on the matter.
âOkâ, you still canât look at him, but the lack of words almost breaks your resolve.
âThatâs it?â
âI didnât expect you to say thatâ, that makes you look, heâs still relaxed.
âWhat was your plan, then? Confess your feelings just to be stuck in a car with me for hours after I rejected you?â
âAre you rejecting me?â a corner of his lips lift up.
âClearly notâ, you roll your eyes. You want more. Fuck his quiet confidence. Fuck the good blockers.
âThen it doesnât matter what my plan wasâ
Thatâs annoying, so you voice it, âyouâre annoyingâ
âAnd you like meâ, his smile grows.
âWell you like me too so thatâs on youâ, what you say doesnât even make sense, so you look away.
Cross your arms in front of your chest. Pouts. Why are you pouting? You feel like pouting. Changbin likes you and heâs being annoying about it. And you like him too but heâs still being annoying about it. Itâs thrilling and confusing and if you donât pout youâll end up smiling so you force your face to remain frowned.
You turn the volume of the radio up. He allows half a song before reaching to turn it down again, you twist towards him, ready to protest, but heâs smiling too big. It disarms you.
âSince when do you like me?â
âI donât know, dudeâ, you say before you give it much thought. Back to annoyed it is.
âI told you mine, now tell me yoursâ, itâs his turn to push.
âI donât have a specific moment like thatâ
âOh, câmon, there must have been a turning pointâ
He allows you a beat of silence. You consider his question but comes up empty.
âI kinda always liked youâ, is where you settle.
âAlways?â his tone switches from playful to serious, you donât let that intimidate you.
You nod your head yes, because you realize it is true.
When you first met Changbin you also met a lot of other people all at once. That had been after your brother was already renting the studio space, but before they moved in together. Hyunjin had literally known you all your life, so he knew you had a crush even before you admitted it to yourself. He had asked you to cool it from the get go, warning you against making any sort of move.
âHyunjin told me I shouldnât go for youâ, you decide, instead of going into the details of how you became a giggly mess whenever Changbin talked to you back then. If he doesnât remember, you wonât be the one to trigger his memory.
âWhat?â
âHe thought it would ruin the friend groupâ, you add and Changbin canât hide the disbelief.
You allow him a minute to process before continuing.
âWould we ruin the friend group?â and you feel a little pang on your stomach, different from the butterflies that have taken over. Maybe youâre actually anxious about that possibility.
âDid Hyunjin sleeping with Felix ruin the friend group?â he shoots back a question of his own.
âNoâŠâ you admit, at least not yet.
âDid Chan hyung hooking up with Jeongin ruin the friend group?â
âNoâ, you finish processing the information, âwait, what? When?â
âNot relevantâ he rolls his eyes, but you can tell he finds it funny that you didnât know.
âI canât believe Jeongin didnât tell me about itâ, you whisper, more to yourself than to him.
âI only know because it happened at mineâsâ
âUh, what?â look! another tangent you can hop on to avoid the elephant in the room!
âLong story, focus on the nowâ, boo! good things never last for long.
You give him a pointed look, something that you hope he understands as a we will definitely gossip about this later, and not as a why wonât you let me deflect?
âOk so our friends exchanged bodily fluids and it didnât ruin the friend group.â
âNot the best way to put itâ
âBut would we ruin the friend group?â Because at the end of the day, thatâs the real issue. Different people have different dynamics, it didnât really matter whether your friends had or had not fucked each other. It matters what would happen when you do it. If you do it, you mean.
Changbin actually thinks about it and youâre grateful that he seems to pick up that his answer really matters to you.
âI donât think soâ, is what he decides on.
You let the confirmation settle.
âI donât think we would eitherâ
Might be wishful thinking, but you want it to be true enough to make an effort about it.
âOkâ, he says.
âOkâ, you say it back, out of habit by this point.
âSoâŠâ
âSo I think you should pull overâ
âWhat?â he looks at you for long enough to see that you mean it.
âPull over.â
To his credit, he really does.
He drives maybe another five minutes before coming across a deactivated rest station where he could safely stop.
The sun is high in the sky but the place is covered in shadows. The trees that mustâve been kept at bay once, now take over. It casts shadows on the ground, covering your view of the road. If the highway had been empty, this place looks like a ghost town. You wait for Changbin to fully stop the car.
He looks at you, waiting for your next move.
You unbuckle you seatbelt and in one swift motion, so unlike you that you take a beat to feel proud over how smooth it was, you drag a leg over him. Use his shoulders as leverage to drag your entire body in between his chest and the steering wheel. Heâs caught off guard but moves anyway, placing both hands on your waist to help you settle. Just like that, youâre straddling him.
âIâm going to kiss you nowâ, you say. Not a question, but you wait for him to confirm it anyway.
âOkâ, itâs barely a whisper, but thatâs all you need.
First you take off his cap, discards it on the seat you left empty. Keeps one hand on his shoulder while the other ruffles his fringe. Itâs a familiar touch, something you had done before many times, usually to try and get a reaction out of him. Sometimes just as an excuse to touch him, although you had never admitted it before.
You study his face. Heâs completely unguarded. Looking at you with a mix of trust and wonder. So you lean in slowly, giving him time to pull back. He doesnât. Changbin holds very still, not even breathing. The anticipation builds.
Your first touch to his lips is featherlike.
Touching, but barely.
The weight of his hands feel heavier on your waist. All the encouragement you need to press harder into him.
He moves first, a little push of his neck, but youâre the one to set the pace.
Itâs tentative at first.
You ignore how your heart is hammering, how his hold on you feels tighter. You adjust the angle, slides your hands to the back of his neck, waving your fingers on his hair.
He responds to the first touch of your tongue, allowing you space to explore.
It is slow. It is careful. But it is certain.
Thereâs no coming back from this.
One of your hands move back to his shoulder, glazing over his covered scent gland on its way. You wish you could smell him. He shivers at the contact, a low hum escaping his throat.
Your body reacts, your chest pressing closer to his front, you grind down.
He holds you in place, stopping the movement. He forces his head back.
âWeâre not doing this hereâ, he closes his eyes, as if looking at you would be enough to break his resolve.
âBut-â
âNo.â itâs final, his eyebrows draw together, you move your hand to smooth over it. He breaths out, âIâm not fucking you for the first time in the middle of nowhere on our way to your parentâs placeâ
You pout, even if he still has his eyes closed. You grind down again, the tiniest move but enough to pull out another rumble from his throat, something closer to a growl than a moan.
âYouâre unbearableâ, he rests his forehead against yours.
âBut you like meâ, you sound teasing but you are oh so happy.
âYeah I doâ, he opens his eyes, all the remnants of the frown gone.
He takes you in. Scans your entire face. You respond with a small smile, something unguarded too, just for him.
You kiss him again, gentler this time.
Forces yourself to keep your hips still, even if you really really want to grind on him. You feel like a teenager.
Your lips move to the corners of his mouth, his cheek, the curve of his jaw. He allows it, still keeping a tight grip on your waist, his hands like warm iron.
âCan I take this off?â you ask when you come across the border of his scent blocker, voice muffled, lips pressed against his skin.
You feel him nod and uses your teeth to rip the corner of the adhesive. At first you still get a little bit of the chemical note of the patch, but as you finish ripping it off youâre hit with the full magnitude of his smell.
It makes you melt. Even his grip on you is not enough to keep you from setting your hips down, feeling him through his pants. The extra contact combined with the way his presence takes over the car is enough to make you shiver.
He cranes his neck back, giving you more access, hand pressing you down harder. Youâre connected, but he stops you from moving.
Your kisses turn into licking. Then into small bites. This time his growl is unmistakable, he makes no effort to stop it.
You have no time to react when he finally lets go of your waist, putting some space between you to find your own patch.
He rips it off unceremoniously, immediately latching onto the curve of your neck with open mouthed kisses.
When his teeth brush your skin, you reach your breaking point.
One of your hands start moving down his front, ready to undo his pants. He holds your wrist before you can make past his abs.
Changbin stops, resting his forehead on your shoulder.
âCâmonâ, you whine. You never wanted someone as much as you want him.
âNot like thisâ, he breathes out and it sounds like heâs trying to convince himself as much as you.
You press your cheek on him, he circles your waist with his arms. Is somewhat a hug, something to keep you pressed close together, but not heated. It allows you to take control of your breathing again.
He taps your hip, a gentle sign for you to move.
Youâre not happy about it, but you comply, reversing the move from earlier to sit on the passenger side again, pulling out his cap from under you as you do.
Changbin looks at you. Really looks at you.
You donât know how to react so you place the cap back on his head, avoids looking down to his lap where you know you will find him hard. It would crack your resolve. Again.
He seems to have a similar train of thought as you, keeping his gaze solely on your face. He sighs before turning forward again, starting the car.
Youâre not even an hour away from home now, starting to recognise the way once he goes back to the main road, taking the next exit.
At first you keep quiet because youâre cooling down. Then, you keep quiet because you are processing.
So that just happened.
The funny thing is that itâs not weird at all. You have just kissed your friend, someone you have known for literal years, someone who never crossed any lines with you, not even flirted that extensively when compared to some of the others youâre constantly with, and it doesnât feel weird at all.
It just feels right.
Every traffic sign counting down the milage until your hometown marks another way your heart has settled. It doesnât feel like any other hook up. It feels like certainty.
You can smell how content he is now that both of you had gotten rid of your blockers. His scent flares bright, comforting, at ease.
âYou smell like meâ, he says, just as youâre crossing the border of your town.
âDo you like that?â you turn to him, sees him smiling.
âMore than you imagineâ
You hum, acknowledging it.
Now that the silence was broken, you go back to casual conversation for a little bit. Changbin has visited before, his town is close enough to yours that he knows his way around fairly well. You still guide him through a different path, something to extend your time together, even if just by a little bit.
You point out places you used to frequent, tell little anecdotes about the trouble you and your brother would get into as kids.
Talking about him gives you pause.
âHow should I explain this to Hyunjin?â
It catches him off guard, the change in cadence. You had been excited only a second before, the seriousness of the question doesnât land.
âThis what?â he asks, already turning into your neighbourhood.
You wave a hand between the two of you, âthisâ
Changbin shrugs, âhowever you likeâ
âHe will not approveâ
âHe doesnât need to approveâ, the little crease on his forehead is back. You hate it.
âBinâ, you insist, âyouâre his best friend, donât you think we should think this through?â
âDo you think we should think this through?â heâs guarded again.
âYesâ, you say straight away, before catching on that his question had landed a little different than yours, meant something else than what you were thinking, âI mean, noâ
He parks the car in front of your parentâs place. Unbuckles his seatbelt, turns as much towards you as the space allows it. Waits.
âI mean no I donât think we should think about thisâ you wave your hand between the two of you again, âbut I do think we need to figure it out before telling anyoneâ
That puts him at ease. The crease is gone, his expression softens.
âThen we take some timeâ, he says it so easily. You stare at him in disbelief.
âThatâs it?â
âThatâs it.â
âYou donât mind if we take a little bit to tell him? Or anyone else?â
âI donât need anyone else to know, as long as you doâ
He looks at you like you mean everything. You can see how his eyes travel across your features, taking you in. You do the same.
âOh, I knowâ, thereâs a hint of something on your voice that drags out a certain glint on his eyes in response.
âAnd what is it that you know?â he bites.
âThat you like me soooooooo muchâ
He leans in, barely allowing you to finish your sentence. Steals another kiss.
âYes I doâ, he confirms, still pressed against your lips.
Thatâs it.
He will be the end of you.
· · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
The few days at home go by in a daze of too much food, rehashing the same disagreements and laughing at jokes that only make sense if said amongst your family.
Itâs familiar but also utterly foreign.
You outgrew all this.
It is wonderful knowing youâd always have a place to run back to, if needed. But even if your place at the city was much smaller, even if the food was not always as well seasoned, even if the comfort of a motherâs care was not so easily available, it was still yours, and you wouldnât trade it for anything.
Both your mom and brother commented on you smelling so much like Changbin when you arrived, your mom going as far as to say it almost smelled like you were the one that lived with him, not Hyunjin.
Your father kept his peace and quiet. He was never one to comment on things like that, the classic stoic beta who didnât pay that much attention to the scents of everyone around. But he was always good at picking up the little clues, so when he joins you outside after dinner on your last night home, you shouldnât have been surprised about it.
âHey, honeyâ, he sits beside you on the porch.
The old house had been an inheritance from his own parents, who died way too young, before you could meet them. It was small and cramped, specially now that you were all grown up. But it had a porch and a backyard, where you had spent many nights as a teen, specially through those lonely years, looking up at the moon for comfort.
âHi dadâ, you scoot a little to the side. He wraps an arm around you, you lean into it, resting your head on him.
âHowâs everything at school?â
âGood, goodâ, you have stopped correcting him about calling it âschoolâ years ago.
You could have ten different PhDs and heâd still ask about what you had to eat on your snack break. It evolved from being annoying, to a little cringe, into being endearing.
The wonders of growing up.
âAre you all packed already?â you nod your head yes. Hyunjin was inside with your mom right that second, going over the pantry to see how much food he could sneak away with. You had stopped doing that a few years ago, so your packing process became easier.
You stay like that for a little bit. Up in the sky, the new moon smiles down at you.
Your father sighs into your hair, his light scent enveloping you.
âYou know you can tell us anything, right?â
You nod yes again. Did Hyunjin say anything? You feel like your mom wouldâve been the one to bring it up if he did. So you let him continue, gives him space to map out his words, like he did so many times with you growing up.
âIncluding if youâre seeing anyoneâ, and your breath hitches. You give yourself away. He chuckles, you feel how his chest moves with the repressed laugh.
âPlease donât tell momâ, your voice is small, âor Hyunjinâ
âYour brother doesnât know?â he sounds surprised and you push your body away, straightens your back. He keeps his hand placed on your back, moves it in a gentle up and down.
âItâs newâ, is all that you give him.
Itâs his turn to nod, understanding taking over his features.
And in that moment you want to tell him. You want him to know that itâs not just a crush, but that it started as one. You want to tell him about how it feels safe, comfortable.
Itâs funny. Your dad had met Changbin before, many times. They got along well, your⊠boyfriend? Sure. Your boyfriend even stayed over a few times, like many of the others in your friend group. Changbin was the one to always laugh at your dadâs jokes, the first to offer his help over every small job around the house - even if he was honestly terrible at it. But then, once your father and brother found a way to gently push him away, heâd join you and your mother, giggling and gossiping like one of the girls.
He fit.
So perfectly you were a little disappointed at yourself for not seeing it sooner.
But you tell your dad none of that.
And when faced with your silence, he gives you a final squeeze on the back of your neck, the gentlest scruffing, helping you physically relax, and stands up.
âDonât stay out too late, it will probably rain soonâ
You look up at the night, clearer as ever. Looks back at him, one eyebrow raised in question. He just winks at you and goes back inside.
You pull your phone out of your pocket the moment youâre alone again.
you
are you my boyfriend?
His reply comes not even a full minute later.
changbin
do you want me to be your boyfriend?
Yes. Yes you do. But thatâs probably a conversation worth having face to face.
you
can you come by tomorrow?
changbin
iâll probably be back at around 5ish
You appreciate him not pushing. Appreciate that, right after you react to his last message with a little heart, he sends you a silly video on a different social media chat. Appreciates that he didnât make you feel nervous, at least not the bad kind.
Only one more sleep and a few hours on the road with your twin to go.
· · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
Youâre waiting with your door open for the elevator to finally make it into your floor.
The thing is old and dodgy, spends as much time out of service as working on any regular month. Youâre only on the third floor but the wait feels interminable.
You glance down your phone one more time, sees the minute change.
The elevator makes it.
He steps out and is right in front of you in three long strides.
Changbin stops. You bite your lip, considers playing it cool.
Decides against it.
Your arms are around him before you can measure your own strength. He catches you with a huff, embraces you back, holds you close to him.
The kiss is desperate at first. It was only a few days but it felt like longer. Even with the constant texting. Even if he occupied your every thought. You canât get enough.
Changbin pulls back just enough to look at you, and there's something fierce in his expression now. Something possessive and protective and utterly focused on you.
âI missed youâ, you mouth, no sound coming out.
He kisses you one more time, gentler.
âMe tooâ, and youâre already stepping back, dragging him in with you.
Changbin looks around your place as if seeing it for the first time.
He had been here before, but it was always short visits, usually doing a drop off or a pick up, being one of the few in your group with a car.
But he was probably never here for long enough to really look around.
Itâs a small place. Old, very old. Way too cold during the rainy season, way too hot during the warmer months. You had been meaning to move out for a while, but your rent was stable and your landlord didnât bother you too much, so you always ended up renewing the lease.
There was also the matter of the window. You didnât have a proper balcony - and always wanted one. But the big window on your living room went almost all the way to the floor. You placed a rug and a sofa there, no TV. Thatâs where you spent most of your time, either working on your thesis or just lounging in the sun, as it hit the spot perfectly during the morning.
Whenever you thought about giving the place up, the window came to mind.
Changbin had never been over during the early hours of the day, but he walks all the way to the exact spot you like to stand at during the mornings, while drinking your coffee. Itâs not much of a view, but at least there is not another building blocking your line of sight. So you can see the street, a little bit of the skyline. Youâre too far away from anything interesting to try and find a landmark in the distance. Even if itâs closer to evening than dawn, you can picture him there while the first rays of day reach your home. It makes your heart do a little funny dance in your chest.
You give him a second before you join him.
âSo, are you?â you ask, as if in the middle of a conversation.
He catches up straight away.
âIf youâll have meâ
You nod, solemn, definite. Keeps a straight face for a second. Breaks it in a fit of giggles just in time for him to pull you into him again.
You kiss with his arms around your waist, yours around his neck.
You throw your weigh back, makes him step forward until you feel the back of your legs hit the sofa. You sit, dragging him down with you, unwilling to break the kiss. You have to, to allow him to sit, to breathe.
âHi girlfriendâ, his cheeks are flushed.
You adore him.
It takes you seconds to throw your leg over him, finding a position similar enough to your first make out session.
âHiâ, itâs quiet, soft, breathless. Your hair is lose, he brushes it behind your ear. Leans in again.
Youâre in no rush as you kiss him, varying the pace, turning your head, placing your hands.
He does the same.
Thereâs no such thing as time, all that exists is him and you.
You had showered before he came over, didnât bother with patches. It seemed like he didnât either.
Your scents mixed together deliciously.
This time he lets you grind on him, hands still firmly on your waist, but not holding you in place. You have room to move.
While he is wearing jeans, all you have is a delicate pair of loose pants on, something you usually feel comfortable in while at home. Not really pyjamas, but close enough. Because of that, you feel everything of the rough material. At his first gasp you canât hold back anymore, slowly bringing your hand down between you.
Again, he doesnât stop you this time.
You just place it over his bulge, feels how hard he is but keeps your hand still.
Something like a whine escapes him between kisses.
You place your lips on his neck, just under his scent gland. Nibbles.
âMy room?â you barely recognise your voice. Itâs raspy, sensual.
His response comes as a movement, he stands up with an arm wrapped around you, bringing you with him. You yelp, but holds on, hiding another giggle on the curve of his neck, legs circling his waist.
The giggle turns into something closer to a moan as he walks.
Changbin has never been inside your room, there was an unspoken rule between alphas and omegas. Territory was still important.
He puts you down once in but doesnât move any closer to your bed. Itâs made, you changed the sheets once you got back.
Not at all in anticipation of what Changbin coming over could mean.
You donât nest much outside of your heat. You still appreciate the space he gives you.
The walk over to your bed is slow. Maybe you swerve your hips a little more dramatically, urging him to look. You donât sit, instead reaching a hand out to him. He intertwines his fingers to yours, lets you pull him closer. You push his shoulder, forces him down. Straddles him again.
His scent takes a turn, something much sweeter, gentler, appreciative.
This is trust.
You kiss again. And again. And again.
Youâll never tire of kissing him. His lips are already reddened, swollen. Yours are probably the same.
Changbinâs hand slides lower, past the curve of your back. At first is just to help guide you, but then he canât resist giving it a tentative squeeze. Then another.
You hum into his lips, approval.
His fingerâs reach lower, down your ass, and-
Oh.
You can feel the wetness there, slick soaking through the fabric of your flimsy pants. The realisation makes your face burn in equal parts embarrassment and arousal.
Changbin just smiles, moves his hands back up.
He slides his hands under your shirt, the touch of his fingertips giving you goosebumps.
You help him take off the piece of clothing. Although you didnât bother much with your outerwear, you had chosen a nice pair of lingerie. Nothing too fancy, but not something youâd wear any other day either. The bra matches the panties, lace and ribbons decorating the cups. His hands reach for your boobs before his eyes do.
Changbin stops kissing you to look when he feels the details of the fabric.
You can see the moment he short-circuits, trying to wrap his head around the vision in front of him. It makes you blush. You move to kiss him again, anything to make him stop looking, but heâs faster and, just as eager as his hands were, his mouth approaches your chest.
He starts at your clavicles, gentle kisses that become harsher the closer he gets to the borders of your bra. His tongue gives the softer skin a tentative try, and your appreciative hum is all the permission he needs to move his hands up on your back, unclasping the piece to free you.
âI love this but itâs getting in the wayâ
You chuckle and allows the straps to slide down your arms.
Youâre too naked now.
Heâs not naked enough.
Changbin reads your mind and, in one fluid movement, takes off his own shirt and throws it somewhere behind you.
You hope he never finds it again.
It should be weird to see each other this naked. This close.
You have known each other for years and yes, you have been to the pool and the beach together before, with little clothing on. But not like this, never like this.
Not with his hands over your boobs, his fingers pinching your nipples. Not with the feel of his defined shoulders at your reach.
You try to slid down, to kneel in front of him. He stops you.
âNo, let meâ, he flips you over.
His mouth is tracking down your front in an instant. A trace of wet kisses marking your under boobs, your stomach, the hem of your pants. Changbin pulls them down without much ceremony, you wiggle to help him slide them past your knees, all the way down your ankles.
âYou tooâ, you can barely recognise your voice. Raspy, sexy.
He unbuckles his pants while kneeling down between your legs, but makes no further movement to remove them. Youâre about to complain again when he wraps a hand under your thigh, pulling you closer to him. He lowers himself so his chest is over yours, kisses you once.
âIf we keep going, thereâs no going backâ, he whispers against your mouth.
You nod.
You know.
You donât want to go back.
He slides down again, retracing the same spots, marking them again with wetter kisses.
When he reaches your underwear youâre not sure if you should feel ashamed over how wet it is. Thereâs nothing wrong with a little slick.
Thatâs not a little.
It only seems to encourage him further, his tongue darting out to give you a tentative lick, still over the fabric.
He hums in appreciation. Your scent takes over, sickening sweet.
You want him to live between your legs. You look down to see him focused. Eyes closed, his hair is disheveled. You can see the shape of his shoulders, a peak of his back. The sight alone is so sinful you start to feel that characteristic coil in your stomach, the build up of pleasure.
Hands growing restless, you touch his arms, his hands, his hair. Everywhere you can reach him. You pull on the strands, lightly, and he hums again in approval.
The first feel of his tongue agains bare skin makes your back arch.
âDonât stopâ, you donât need to say it, your moans alone are enough for him to know the time to fasten the pace. Tongue flat. More pressure.
Youâre in the brink of falling, the sensation almost too much.
And yet not enough.
âMoreâ, your voice is so raspy youâre surprised he even understood you.
His tongue breaches your entrance first, to be quickly replaced by a finger.
A single digit, barely to the knuckle, but then he turns it and all you can see are stars.
The second finger follows fast, curving to find that spot again and again.
He stops his movements over your clit, kissing the inside of your thighs while keeping the motion of his hands going. You feel wetness dripping down, you canât remember ever feeling this turned on over anyone else.
Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere, toes curling, mouth opening without a sound. His tongue finds you again once his fingers are out, and he licks you clean, gentle not to overstimulate you, helping you through the curve of pleasure and the come down.
You feel his body hovering over you, even with your eyes closed. The weigh is an unbelievable comfort, and you wrap your arms around him, his cheek resting on your chest. You kiss his forehead.
âI am ruinedâ, you say out loud, once you find your voice again.
Changbin chuckles, kisses your shoulder.
âGive me a second and weâll keep goingâ, you run your hands over his back, feel the definition of the muscles.
âYou donât have toâ, his voice is certain but you can feel the hardness of him against your thigh.
âOh but I want toâ you squeeze him closer to you.
Itâs quiet for a second while you even out your breathing again.
âDo you have condoms?â he asks and you draw back to stare at him.
You probably shouldâve thought of that but no, you donât.
âDonât you?â you donât want to sound desperate but you donât think youâre doing a good job.
He shakes his head no, bashful.
âI didnât want to assumeâ
âOh my goddess, why?â
âItâs not like you have condoms either!â
âIâm not the one with a dick!â
It shouldnât sound so funny but it does. You laugh. He laughs too.
âOk, Iâm on birth controlâ, you say, once the giggles die out.
ââŠso am Iâ he admits, probably afraid to let his mind run towards where yours already is.
âI trust youâ, you bring your hand to his face, making him look up at you.
âOkâ, he nods, kisses you again.
The absence of his warmth on top of you is missed immediately, but he takes mere seconds to remove the rest of his clothing and you make a mental note to ask for longer next time, so you could take him in.
When he lines himself between your legs again though, you forget all about it.
You feel his tip press to your entrance, a new wave of slick already tinkling down. Youâve never done this without the barrier of protection before. It takes a whole other level of trust you never thought youâd reach. But with Changbin it is easy, trusting comes as natural as taking a breath.
He pushes forward deliciously slow. You take him in bit by bit and hope to never forget the feeling.
Heâs thick. His fingers not even coming close to preparing you fully. But youâre so wet the stretch just feels good.
Once you feel his pelvis hit yours, you finally allow the moan thatâs been building on your chest to escape.
Heâs not far behind you.
His movements are shallow at first, wanting to make sure you can take him.
You have never felt anything like it before.
He starts kissing your neck, you bite his ear, he shivers.
His hips buckle involuntarily and you gasp, the movement making him hit the spot inside you that makes you see stars. He catches that and keeps doing it on purpose.
Youâre already sensitive so, as he picks up his pace, finally sliding in and out of you with more certainty, you claw at his back and bite his shoulders.
He growls.
Itâs enough to push you over the edge, the sensation taking over you so strongly you black out for a second. When you come to it, heâs sliding out of you, giving himself a few more pumps with his hand before coming all over your belly.
Changbin is sweaty, his hairline dripping. You pull him closer anyway, to hell with the mess, you need him all over you if heâs no longer inside you.
âYou couldâve come insideâ, itâs the first thing you say and he groans on your neck, you feel it as much as you hear it.
âDonât say shit like thatâ
âI mean itâ
He groans again. You feel his cock twitch, a little more cum leaking out of it.
You chuckle, fond and a little drunk with power.
âHave you ever done this before?â he asks.
You shake your head no, bringing one of his hands to his hair, brushing it away from his face.
âMe neitherâ, he admits, âI think you ruined meâ
âThatâs my lineâ
Youâre fully naked. Wet, sticky, sweaty. It should be weird, right? A part of you keeps saying that it should be weird. But itâs not. Itâs just natural. His body is like an extension of the person, not something inherently sexual. As you both lay there, matching your breathing to one another, the nakedness of the moment feels more emotional than physical. It is intimate. It is yours.
And both of you are forever ruined.
· · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
Itâs downhill from there.
Well, uphill, actually, considering the facts.
Every chance you get, youâre making out.
In his car when he keeps offering you rides after departing from your other friends. So frequently now that people just assume youâll ride with him. The roads that lead to your place are suddenly as familiar to him as the streets to his childhood home, a path taken so many times he could probably do it in his sleep.
At your apartment, whenever he drops you off.
He avoids sleeping over - it still hasnât happened. Youâre afraid of Hyunjin figuring something out if Changbin keeps taking so long to go back every time he offers you a ride.
Their apartment, for a similar reason, is mostly off limits.
That is, unless you keep it fast. A few stolen kisses at the door when you come over, a quick kneeling down at the restroom during movie night, shutting you up for a few minutes while keeping your mouth occupied. A squeeze of his ass when making more popcorn.
You also start spending a lot more time at the gym. At first you thought that would be the one thing to raise suspicions but, after Jeongin recounts to your group all the ways youâve been beating his ass at boxing, no one really questions it as much. The maknae is a good sport about it, specially when your boyfriend keeps letting him off work early whenever you come over to train. What he doesnât know is how Changbin drags you to one of the back room after youâre done making punches rain on Jeongin. How his boss bends you over his desk and murmurs about how sweet you are, how well you take him.
The sneaking around makes it more exciting.
Itâs a whirlwind but no one seems to catch on. Changbin is friendly to everyone. Youâre loud and flirty with everyone. Your dynamic is not that different from what it always was - you just kiss more when youâre alone together.
Youâre more careful with your blockers, making sure to not accidentally give yourselves away by flaring sweet whenever Changbin is nearby, but then again, you always had a hard time controlling your pheromones anyway. Every now and then someone teases him about smelling too much like you or vice versa, but everything is easily explained.
That is, until Chan finds out.
Itâs a complete accident, really.
Was it not for the fact that you were making out at his place.
At his studio.
Chan was supposed to be away all day. He knew you and Changbin were coming over, going as far as to say he had some left over pizza in the refrigerator if you got hungry while working. Because thatâs what you were supposed to be doing. Working.
You were recording the instruments for a track Changbin came up with. He needed to finish writing the lyrics. It made sense that you were there together.
But then he looked so hot with his thick rimmed glasses and his fluffy hair, the sleeves of his shirt straining over the muscles of his arms. One second he was biting down the end of a pen and next thing you knew your mouth was on his neck, one of your hands inside his pants.
The studio is sound proof, of course, so there wasnât any warning before the door was sliding open, Chanâs voice filling the air with curses as he took your state of disarray.
âWhat the fuckâ, is loud at first, then it turns into disbelief, âwhat the fuck?â
You scramble away from Changbin, sitting on the couch by his side while he adjusts his pants, tries to conceal the bulge there.
âNo way, what the fuck?â Chan keeps repeating from the door, neck growing red in a mixture of embarrassment and anger.
âIn my defense, you fucked Jeongin on my bedâ, Changbin is not half as shy about it as you, making full eye contact with the other alpha while sitting with his knees spread apart, one of his hands finding your leg and staying there.
You, however, can feel how warm your face is. Legs pressed together with your hands intertwined over them, posture so straight you could break your back in half. Itâs worse than being caught by a parent.
âWhat does that have to do with anything?â Chan still sports that look of disbelief, unable to hold his gaze on a single place, going from you to your boyfriend and back to you.
âWell, this is payback. Karma, if you mayâ, Changbin is way too relaxed.
âThat was different, Jeongin lives with his parents, itâs not as if I could just go to his placeâ, Chan defends himself and Changbin looks smug about it- oooooooh. This is diversion. Chan hates to be misunderstood.
You wonder how long Changbin kept that information safely stored, locked and loaded for a time like this.
âAnd you didnât come here then, becauseâŠ?â your boyfriend pushes, Chan focuses on him, forgets youâre there.
âThe renovations, dudeâ
The famous renovations, when Chan realised that it would be cheaper to build his own studio than to keep renting out spaces. It made the control freak producer have to jump from couch to couch while the construction team was working. Drove half of your group insane while at it. The famous renovations took way longer than anticipated and he was constantly stressed about it back then.
He seems to catch on that heâs being distracted though, as he shakes his head and looks over your way again before returning to your boyfriend.
âWhat is your excuse?â it sounds accusing but you know him enough by now to see that heâs also amused about it.
âShe looked cuteâ, Changbin shrugs. You relax.
You kiss your boyfriendâs cheek.
âOh my goddess, thatâs disgustingâ, Chan groans, looking away from the pair of you, âhow long has this been going on?â
âI donât know, a few weeks?â you reply, innocent as an angel. You know exactly how long, though. Itâs been thirty-four days. Not that Chan needs to know that.
âA few weeks?â his voice pitches high and thatâs exactly why he does not need to know details.
âYeah and no one knowsâ, Changbin adds.
âAre you sure about that?â Chan doesnât seem convinced in the slightly.
âPretty much, yeahâ, Changbin shrugs again.
âActually,â you start, both alphas turning to you, âmy dad knowsâ
âWhat? Since when?â you may have forgotten to tell your boyfriend about it, though.
âPretty much from the beginningâ, you pat his thigh, a little âthere, thereâ touch, âwe donât need to talk about that now.â
âOk,â Chan seems to be assessing the situation, taking in the smallest interaction to make his final decision, âI wonât tell anyone but I wonât lie if they ask.â
You consider that for a second, but Changbin replies first.
âThat seems fair.â
You agree. And you are sure no one would ask anyway, you were being careful, all things considered.
· · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
You are on your seventh outfit change when you decide enough is enough.
Thereâs a networking event happening for people in the industry. Your university was one of the sponsors so you managed to sneak yourself in. On paper it sounded really cool, a chance for small artists to meet potential managers, people interested in working behind the scenes on all sorts of fronts.
You had tried everything on your wardrobe that gave off a trusting vibe. Pants, skirts, dresses. It all looked wrong. It was time to ask the professionals for help.
you
[2 photos attached]
@ jeongin @ felix
pls resident fashionistas
help
hyunjin
iâm also a fashionista
you
yes but your opinion doesnât matter
hyunjin
why?????
You donât reply. The first notification comes from Chan, fire reacting to both photos. Wow, so helpful.
Jisung is next, also adding fire reactions to both photos.
hyunjin
stop fire reacting to my sisterâs photos
The next text comes directly to you, in a private chat.
changbin
are you trying to drive me insane?
You start typing your reply, something flirty and sexy, maybe youâll even add one more photo just for him? But your train of thought is stopped with Jeongin finally replying on the group chat.
jeongin
you look hot in both
but the second one is đ„đ„đ„đ„
you
i donât want to look hot
i want to look professional
jisung
i would hire you
felix
i would too
minho
you both think with your dicks so it doesnât count
@ you just add a shirt over the second one and youâre good
hyunjin
donât think with your dick about my sister
felix
can i think with my dick about you?
And again, another text on a private chat.
changbin
iâm respectfully thinking with my dick about you
That steals a little laugh from you, but you have to stop paying attention to your phone to finish getting ready if you want to get there on time. Minhoâs suggestion proves useful and you find a safe option that makes you feel confident while also remaining professional. A little more formal and well fitted than you usually pull off, but casual enough to not completely leave you out of your comfort zone.
Your phone keeps buzzing and you peak the group chat every now and then while doing your make up, only to find that most of the boys just keep using you to rile up your brother. Itâs funny and you wish you could help, maybe throw a couple flirty lines back to some of them only to see Hyunjin squirm, but then you get another private text. A name flashing you donât usually get many messages from.
chan
hey is this the event youâre going?
[1 screenshot attached]
you
thatâs the one!
chan
cool
iâll be there too
you
really???
chan
yeah
need a ride?
you
why are you being nice to me?
chan
iâm just offering you a ride
you
what do you want?
chan
youâre so annoying
you
iâve been told
chan
iâm kinda nervous
Oh, Chan, you think to yourself, your entire need to relentlessly tease him melting away.
you
meet you at the cafe?
i need a coffee before we go
chan
iâll be there in 30
and thank you
When you step into the cafe you have the outfit that the boys helped you choose but the shirt folded over your arm, itâs a bit too warm outside to put it on just yet. The top you have on had been your biggest issue before the shirt, it complimented your sleek skirt colorwise, and fit your body well. A little too well. Sleeveless and a little more low cut than usual. The shirt really was a genius move, something simple that gave off professional while also making your cleavage less of a focal point.
And, most importantly, it makes you feel good.
Youâre going straight to the counter where Minho stands behind the register when you hear a high pitched whistle.
When you turn, reacting to the sound, Jisung is coming over with a couple of empty mugs on his hand. He points behind him at where Felix is sitting alongside your boyfriend. Felix still has two finger on the sides of his mouth, making it easy for you to assume heâs the culprit.
âI would definitely hire youâ, the blonde says while Changbin just stares, mouth hanging slightly open.
Usually youâd have a quick reply for that, something snarky and flirty. But the way Changbin was looking at you? It had you imagining just what he would do to you later that day. So you resort to turning back around to face the counter, cheeks burning. Minho smiles knowingly at you.
âAmericano to go?â, he says in lieu of a hello.
âPleaseâ youâre about to rub your face when you remember you actually made an effort with your make up today and donât want to mess it up.
Hyunjin comes from the back, probably after a visit to the staff bathroom instead of using the customerâs one like a normal person. You wonder if Minho regrets ever allowing your group to do that. Your brother looks you from head to toll and rolls his eyes, moving past you to go sit with your other friends, but you never hear the sound of the chair scraping the floor, instead noticing the ding above the door, indicating someone walked in.
Chan still has his car keys in hand, wearing a black dress shirt instead of his usual oversized hoodie. He comes over to you straight away, placing a hand on your waist and giving it a light friendly squeeze. It tickles, so you yelp in surprise. That manages to get a little smile out of him and, again, if it was any other day you would take pleasure wiping it off his face, but for him to admit to you that he was nervous about how the day would go? He needed to have an out for that stress and you didnât mind being the punching bag this time.
âReady to go?â he asks.
âJust waiting for my coffeeâ, you start, but Hyunjin pipes in from behind you at the same time,
âWhat do you mean, ready to go?â he asks loud enough for all your friends to look up from their various activities.
âChan is driving meâ, you donât think you need to explain it but Hyunjin sounds actually pissed off for once, instead of just playing it up as his usual funny dramatics.
âNo heâs notâ
âYes he isâ
âNo heâs not.â he puts more emphasis on it.
âYes he isâ, you do too.
âOh my god children, donât fightâ Jisung pipes in.
âStay out of it, Hanâ, and your twin is so close to a growl it makes you take a step back.
You recover quickly, shifting your postures like you would when he started to grow taller than you during your teen years.
âWhat is wrong with you?â you lower your voice, there is a clear confrontation brewing.
âWhat is wrong with you?â he doesnât bulge and youâre genuinely confused, to say the least.
He catches on that youâre not following.
âTheyâre my friendsâ
âWhat does that even mean?â
âIt means theyâre off limitsâ
The laughter spills out of you before you can think to stop it, real and bitter. Everyone is tense now, youâre not one to easily anger, at least not for real. But then neither is your sibling.
âOh thatâs rich coming from youâ, you see that both Felix and Changbin have stood up, approaching carefully.
Hyunjin says your name like a warning.
âWhat?â
âI mean itâ
âSo do I, I will hang out with whoever I want Hyunjin, theyâre my friends tooâ
âOh fuck off no theyâre notâ
âHey, hey, maybe letâs take a breather about thisâ, Chan interferes, a gentle hand extending to be placed on Hyunjinâs chest, but your brother sweats it away.
âNo dude, I told all of you not to mess with my sister so many timesâ, you havenât seen him this frustrated since your teenage years.
It only makes you angrier.
What are you? Sixteen again? Needing your brotherâs protection to walk out of the house? Thatâs not fair to you at all, after all you have done to overcome the years of self isolation.
âHyunjin I am my own person, I can fuck whoever I wantâ, and thatâs playing low but you no longer care.
âBut not my friends!â heâs almost screaming.
âI wonât have this conversation with you right nowâ, you take a hold of Chanâs forearm and tugs it gently.
He follows without any complaints, but not before giving Minho a look you canât quite read.
You sneak a glance at Changbin as well, but you canât place the feeling taking over his face either.
Maybe youâre just seeing everything a little red tinted right now, makes it hard to understand the world around you clearly.
You get a text as soon as Chan starts driving.
changbin
u okay?
you
yea idk what the fuck was that
He doesnât reply anymore but you donât think much about it, instead turning up the volume on the radio so you donât have to make conversation with Chan. As much as your older friend was always busy, and had little energy to engage with most of your silly dramas, he always had time to meddle when something serious happened. You did not want to think about the argument with Hyunjin as something serious, even though you knew it looked that way. Your brother just needs to get his head out of his own ass - and everyone else needs to mind their own business.
The rest of the evening plays out smoothly. You get yourself a few contacts and get to witness Chanâs rare charming side as well.
When he approaches you at the end of the night, with a drink in hand, his neck and ears slightly blushed from the alcohol intake, youâre less frazzled. You were not drinking - having agreed to take the car back for Chan so he could ease his own nerves. But after the many hours engaging in conversation with all sorts of artists and industry people, you half forgot about your twinâs outburst.
âSo, Hyunjinâ
âDonât.â
âAre you going to tell him about Changbin?â
âAfter all that?â
âIt will just get worse if you take longer to say anythingâ
You exhale, defeated.
âYeah, I knowâ
He takes another sip of his drink. You wish you could do the same. When you offered to be the sober driver you were planning on staying over at Changbinâs after, knowing your brother had something planned with Felix. The walk from Chanâs to your boyfriendâs was so minimal it didnât even count. Now you were not so sure. You didnât want to grab a taxi. You really really wanted a glass of wine. Instead, you reach for a passing tray and gets yourself another glass of water.
The waves of the crowd coming and going captures your attention, so you stay like that, side by side, just watching people be people for a while.
âWhat did he mean by âtelling you all I was off limitsââ, you make air quotes with your fingers.
Itâs Chanâs turn to sigh in defeat, âhe never said it seriously but yeah, seems like it wasâ
âHe really warned you off?â
Your friend nods, âwhen he first brought you over, I think Felix asked if you were single, maybe I did tooâ
âDid you?â you turn to look at him, but he keeps his focus on the crowd. You study his side profile.
âI think Felix was genuinely just curious, but Hyunjin did not take it that wayâ
âWhat about you?â you push.
Chan is quiet.
âDonât tell me you thought about hitting on meâ, your smile grows, this will be a goldmine of teasing.
âThat was before you opened you mouth for the first timeâ
âChan! You thought I was hot!â
âFor like a secondâ he rolls his eyes.
âOhhhh you so had a crush on me!â
Chan laughs and you try to not be offended at the truthiness of it.
âYou and Changbin really are a perfect pairâ
âAre we?â and your voice sounds foreign even to yourself. Dreamlike. Hopeful. Losing all the teasing tone from before.
âYeah, both of you are loud and annoyingâ
âYou know what? I take pride in thatâ
He clinks his glass to yours.
By the time you reach his apartment, you feel much lighter. He tells you to park on the street - his parking space was horrible and you appreciate him remembering you hate having to squeeze a car in there. He was also probably worried about you scratching his big nice shiny black car.
âAre you still going over to Binâs?â
âI should probably call him first, we havenât really talked all nightâ, you pull out your phone while both of you get out of the car, walking towards the front of his building.
âWhat about Hyunjinie?â
You consider it.
Thereâs no longer anger clouding your mind.
âWouldnât it be funny if he found out about me and Changbin by hearing me moan through the walls?â and you actually consider it.
âThatâs it, Iâm ejecting myself from this conversationâ, he turns away from you but only takes two steps before stopping. He takes a breath, lets his head hang back, a frustrated sigh leaving his lips.
âChan?â
âI canât just leave you alone on the street in the middle of the nightâ, it almost sounds like heâs saying more to himself than to you.
It makes you chuckle but you donât want to push his patience, finding your boyfriends contact on your phone.
He picks up on the second ring.
âWant the bad news or the good news first?â
âWell lucky me, I didnât even know there were news to begin withâ
âIâm full of surprisesâ
âOkay, good news thenâ
âYou can come overâ, he almost sings it and you giggle in response. Chan makes a face of disgust.
âAnd the bad news?â
âHyunjinâs in rutâ
Oh.
That would explain a lot, you think to yourself. Your next thought is âhe didnât even text me about it?â Itâs an unspoken thing between the two of you. His cycle is not as messed up as yours but itâs still inconsistent enough to make it hard to keep track. Ever since moving out of your parentâs house, you were each otherâs emergency contact. Even when Hyunjin had someone to help him with his rut, which was most of the time, heâd still let you know what was going on.
âDid he go to Felix?â your voice must give away that the news shook you a little bit, Chan losing his nonchalant mask and raising an eyebrow in concern.
âYupâ
âIs he okay?â
âWell it took like three of us to hold him back once you left with Channie hyung but after that he just buried his face in Felixâs neck and did everything he was toldâ
âGood boyâ, that makes Changbin snort and you relax, at last. If heâs laughing it means everything will fall into place. âSo I just dropped Chanâ
âIâll come meet you down, is he still with you?â
You look at your friend, crossed armed and still questioning with his gaze, âagainst his will but yesâ
While you wait for your boyfriend, you relay the information you were given. Chan is equal parts bothered that no had had told him about it sooner and glad to know the rest of your friends could manage it without him.
It takes Changbin exactly four minutes to arrive in front of Chanâs apartment.
You get on your tippy toes to meet your lips to him on a quick peck, his arms circle you waist immediately.
âPeople would think you havenât seen each other in weeksâ, Chan says, teasing again.
âIt felt like itâ, you poke your tongue out towards him, childish.
âThanks for waiting with her, manâ Changbin gives Chan a friendly punch on the arm.
The older massages the place he was hit, âwell, I am her friend too.â
It doesnât escape you what was left unsaid.
Youâre not one with an insecurity streak, some might even say you have a bit of an ego problem nowadays. But it still hurt for your brother to insinuate that this little group of people you cared so much about were not your friends as much as they were his. You might have started with just Seungmin, but you earned their love just as much as they gained yours.
You appreciate Chan voicing something to ease your nerves. Changbin helps further, by pushing out his scent, a steady flow of cinnamon and clover. Youâre lucky.
The walk back to Changbinâs place happens with your hand in his. You kiss on the elevator. Barely make it to his room before you are already undressed to your bra.
âIâve been thinking about this skirt all dayâ, he whispers in your ear, pressed against your back with hand firmly on your hips.
He places you on the bed. Well, throws you on the bed. You go down with a huff, looks at him appalled but heâs not even slightly embarrassed about it. You have very little time to react before his hands are pulling your shirt up, before heâs struggling to get the fabric over your chest, freeing your boobs.
Heâs already hard. His lips crash to yours and one of your hands wanders down his abs towards the hem of his grey sweatpants. He separates from you to get rid of his white shirt, you hold a hand up, making him stand back so you can run your eyes over him.
Youâve never gotten the meaning of the expression âsex on legsâ until you looked at him. Chest heaving, pants hanging so low you could see the lines of his pelvis. Hair a mess, hands twitching, eager to touch.
From where you lay on the bed, holding yourself up by relying on your elbows, you canât quite place where his eyes are stuck.
He puts one leg on the bed, knee between your thighs, forcing them open. You oblige, happily.
Heâs usually gentle, keen on using words, scared of abusing his strength.
Youâve been brainstorming ways to break him for weeks.
All it took, apparently, was a business skirt.
The hem slid up when you spread your knees for him, but he helps you by bunching up more of the fabric on his fist, lifting until he can almost see your panties.
Heâs too far away, you start the motion to sit, to bring him closer, but he pushes you back, gentle again.
âNo baby, tonight you do as I sayâ
You gulp, this is new.
You nod.
âUse your wordsâ
âYeah. Yes. Ok.â
He looks down at your legs. Grabs one of your ankles and lifts it until it is resting on his shoulder.
âArms upâ you obey, hypnotised by the vision of sin in front of you, âgood girlâ
You start feeling the wetness between your legs. It will start to become uncomfortable soon.
âDo you trust me, baby?â
You nod.
âWordsâ
âYesâ
He slides a hand over your covered center. It makes you shiver, knees trying to lock back in - but he still has a stronghold on the leg you have up.
He starts drawing circles with his thumb. You wish he could unzip the skirt, the hem is starting to cave into your skin with the position youâre in. You forget all about it the second he stops touching you.
You whine.
âPatienceâ, heâs unlacing his pants, letting them drag on the floor. He had not been wearing boxers.
He is painfully hard, tip red and dripping. It makes your mouth water but he seems to have other plans.
âNow, deep breath for meâ when he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed, adjusting your position, your eyes widen.
He lines himself to you and, as wet as you are, slick is not enough to prepare you for him.
âShhh, trust me, Iâll make it feel goodâ he seems to read your thoughts, cooing as he massages the thigh propping you up.
He slides a pillow under your ass, giving you an angle. Youâve been keeping your arms up for him and, with the new position, you can feel the strain on your neck.
He lines himself again, keeps massaging your clit as he starts to put gentle pressure on your entrance.
You moan, mostly in pleasure.
âGood girl, Iâll do just the tip, okay?â
âBin, I canâtâ your voice is raspy.
âBut I think you canâ the pressure increases, he holds your other knee open, forcing you to arch your back.
When you feel him inside you, you free a noise youâve never made before. Wild, animalistic.
âThere she is,â he praises, hand going from your thigh to your waist, following the curve of your back.
He slides the rest of the way in slowly, thumb back on your clit, gentle kisses on your ankle. Maybe itâs his voice singing you praises but the discomfort turns into pure bliss and you melt under him.
When he stops, all the way in, he places a hand on your lower belly. The skirt is now rolled all the way up, still secured at your waist but no longer covering any of your lower parts. The panties he had slid out of the way and, was it not for the overwhelming feeling of him inside you, it would bother the way the piece of clothing was dragging in your skin.
As things were, however, all you could pay attention to was the slow drag of him, out of you just a little only to press in again.
He could see your tummy bulge out where heâs pressing inside you and the sight alone almost makes him come.
âTold you you could take it babyâ, he caresses your skin, you shiver. âMy pretty girl is so tight for meâ
When he finally starts moving, itâs relentless.
You come first, something closer to a scream than to a moan ripping out of your throat. He doesnât let you rest, keeps ramming into you, faster.
Your second orgasm starts to build up right after, âwant to come on my dick again? Câmon baby, take what you need.â
No longer able to hold your hands above your head, you reach down to touch him, bending forward to the best of your ability. He allows it for a second before his hips buckle. Heâs close. You never want this to end.
Changbin lets go of your leg, finding your clit again. Your peak is not as intense this time, but all your strength leave your body, going limp under him. He leans forward, increases his pace.
âMy pretty omega, will fill up my pretty omega, make her round and full of meâ he babbles, closer to your ear, sweet nothings mixed with wet kisses on your neck.
Youâre completely folded under him, out of it.
âDo you like that baby? Want to smell like me for months? For everyone to know youâre mine?â
You shiver, reacting to the words. Something instinctual making you cross your legs around him, not letting him out like so many other times before.
He groans on the curve of your neck, his hips moving one more time before he spasms. You feel him deep inside you, so much it takes a second before it starts leaking out.
He stays inside you for a little bit, youâre almost scared he will pop a knot but he slides out easily enough.
Changbin drops his weigh on top of you, you wrap your arms around him on instinct.
âYou okay?â you feel his breath on your neck.
âAre you okay?â you throw the question back to him, tired and amused.
He nods, nuzzling his nose on your hair while doing it.
âThat was newâ, you lightly scratch his back with your nails, feeling the goosebumps from on his skin.
âItâs this damn skirtâ, his hands find your waist, where the fabric is still attached to your middle section.
You chuckle. Of course it was the skirts fault, and not his possessive streak acting up after a day spend with another alpha that was not him.
After a minute, he lets go of you, going to his bathroom and returning with a towel to clean yourselves up. Youâre overly sensitive but seeing his release come out of you almost makes you want to go again. You donât, though, content with receiving him in your arms, naked and spent, for a good night of sleep.
Youâre tangled in a mess of blankets, absentmindedly tracing patterns on the skin of his forearms. Fingers lacing together only to untangle and explore each otherâs skin. Itâs no longer sexual, just gentle on the way you trace the veins under his skin, the way he places careful kisses to the back of your hand.
âSo, how was the networking thingy?â he asks.
âIt was okay, met some interesting people and a lot of wannabes, as usual, but it was fun, free food and all thatâ, it makes him chuckle. You had that in common, the appeal of free food could always get you.
âSounds good, do you think youâll get some clients from that?â
âDonât know, I think Iâll probably just bully Chan until he allows me to work with himâ youâve been joking about that more and more lately, to the point where your friends are starting to catch on that itâs not really a joke for you.
Changbin, of course, knew that, âI can helpâ
You kiss him, softly and smiley, âIâm counting on that.â
Itâs quiet now. The sounds of the city have died down, it must be the middle of the night already. Every now and then youâll hear a distant siren, a car speeding past. But other than that most bars around downtown are already closed, most people fast asleep. It allows your mind to wonder, the up and down of your boyfriendâs chest starting to lull you into sleep. A thought makes you open your eyes again.
âDo you want to perform again?â
He doesnât startle at your voice, although you know heâs probably close to slumber as well, the movement of his hand on your back is growing slow, lazy.
âMaybe. I donât know. I like writing, I like producing. I havenât been on stage much but I do think itâs fun, itâs just-â he sighs. âWhen I was building up the gym I couldnât really give music that much attention, I was not a really good friend for Chan back thenâ
Thatâs the first you have ever heard of that.
âI donât think he holds it against youâ
âOh he doesnât, but thatâs just because heâs too good of a guy with a superhero complexâ
His chest pulses with a half laugh. You match it with your own. You would never have put it like that but it made sense.
âAnd anyway,â he goes on, âChan has Jisung now, I think theyâre more aligned to work with each otherâ
âHave you ever tried doing anything with them?â
âLike, a little?â you crane your neck to see his face, he keeps his gaze on the ceiling. âI hang out at the studio when theyâre both there but Iâm mostly just watchingâ
âYou should give it a try, maybe with the three of you it wouldnât feel like the work was not equal?â you suggest and he meets your eyes.
He kisses your forehead, you lean into the touch.
âI might do thatâ, he whispers.
It grows quiet again. You close your eyes. Itâs so warm, it wonât take long for you to fall asleep at all. You inhale his scent, releases all the air in your lungs, snuggle in closer.
âDo you think Iâm a terrible friend?â itâs his turn to break the silence.
Your eyes snap open, you turn to him again, âChangbin, no, what? Chan adores you, he really doesnât-â
âNo, to Hyunjinâ
That gives you pause.
âDonât go thereâ
âI mean, he was not wrong to warn us off, after allâ
You push away from him, rest your weigh on your elbow so youâre able to turn your entire body towards him.
âAnd I am no oneâs property to be warned off aboutâ you canât find it in you to soften the statement.
It doesnât stop him from pulling you closer again. You let him.
âI know, I know baby, Iâm sorryâ, he kisses the top of your head, âI just didnât expect him to act like thatâ
Heâs pressing you so close to his chest your voice comes out a little mumbled, âHyunjin was in pre rut, he will probably come out of it and apologize, it wouldnât be the first time we told each other something awful because of hormonesâ
He seems to consider that, keeping his lips on the crowd of your head. You feel his breath move your hair before he speaks, âit got in my head a little bit, I think you were right to ask us to keep this quiet, we can maybe work him up to the idea a little bit moreâ
âWe can do that,â you kiss the top of his chest, âor, you can fuck me really good when heâs back so he can hear me through the wallsâ
He laughs and wraps both arms around you, pulling you on top of him to kiss you a little more.
You donât remember falling asleep.
· · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
> a/n | me: oh I'm not good at writing smut! also me: what if I put in TWO smut scenes on the same chapter? Idk Changbin is driving me a bit mental lately. Also in my perfect abo universe, everyone has an alternative of birth control medication, no matter their gender.
> genre | a/b/o, friends to lovers, brother's best friend, fluff, smut, romcom vibe, MDNI.
> chapter warnings |Â a/b/o dynamics, explicit language, mentions of past assault (nothing graphic), implied sexual content, ruts and heats.
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02. like the late afternoon on the countryside
Hyunjin had been blabbering about it for a week already. It started out tame, a little comment here and there, a casual drop in conversation, the mention of an idea. It took him a couple of days to ask it straight away. Right now we had reached begging territory. Your personal favorite.
âPlease please please it sounds perfect, I have the entire thing thought outâ
âNoâ, you barely lift your lips from your coffee mug to say it.
âOn the moon, literally what do I have to dooooooo?â
You canât lie and say you are not enjoying it. Itâs rare that you have such an upper hand against him. And you can tell itâs just as entertaining to your other friends, sitting at the table with you.
Jeongin leans closer to Seungmin, âI thought she didnât mind people listening to her songs?â
âI donât think she does, sheâs just seeing how har he is willing to goâ, your friend replies. Seungmin knows you too well. You have to refrain from smiling, overhearing them but keeping your eyes locked with your twin.
âCan you two shut up?â Hyunjinâs neck snap towards your friends anyway.
âWhoa, calm down flower boy, itâs not that seriousâ, you knew how much your brother disliked the nickname but, as if on cue, his scent flares up, the predominant whiff of roses hitting your nose alongside the burned leaves he usually sports when his mood has gone sour.
âWell you gigantic fruit saladâ, he starts, giving you a taste of your own medicine, âcan you just tell me what it would take?â
âItâs an orchardâ, Changbinâs voice is small and he keeps scrolling on his phone, itâs like a thought that ran astray, not meant to be said out loud. Every single person at the table turns their attention to him. The quiet makes him look up, âwhat?â
Jeongin looks from Changbin to you and back, âan orchard?â
Changbin catches on, cheeks going slightly pink. He eyes you and your brother first before turning to your friends, âyeah, the Hwangs have like a grass smell? His is more flowery, like a garden. Hers is fruity, like an orchard.â
âHuhâ, is all Seungmin says.
Hyunjinâs expression softens, probably thinking about the same thing as you. Your family all had fresh nature smells, yours was by far the sweetest. Your grandma used to say the same thing about the orchard smell, adding that it reminded her of her childhood on the countryside. But no one else in your closer circle ever reached that same conclusion. It made your heart do a little flip, something light and happy.
Youâre afraid someone might say something and ruin the moment, so you turn your attention back to your twin.
âHmm you know what, little brother?â you have a certain glint to your eyes.
All softness is erased from his face in a second. He squints at you.
âNoâ, Hyunjinâs entire demeanor changes.
âWell thatâs fine by meâ, you shrug your shoulders, takes another sip, starts to turn towards your other friends.
âYou are SO annoying, dudeâ, he says, and thatâs how you know you won.
A lifetime of actually being annoying thought you that it usually gets you places. Thatâs part of the reason why you keep it up. It is also very fun.
âHmm?â, is all you give him, unbothered. You see Seungmin forcing down his own smile. He knows whatâs coming too. Itâs been a topic of conversation a few times amongst those the same age as you.
Hyunjin takes a deep breath, closes his eyes.
Even Chan looks away from his computer to watch.
You can see Jisung over your brotherâs shoulder, leaning in at the counter, trying to hear it too.
âPlease noona, can I use your song for the dance contest?â he spits it out. You consider denying it again, to make him repeat it, to say it once more but with a little more heart to it. But you also know your limits.
âOf course, baby brother, you should have asked soonerâ, your voice is as sweet as you can make it.
âWait so youâre the oldest?â Changbin is not phased by Hyunjinâs dramatics, your twin having dropped his forehead to rest at the table, gently but rhythmically pounding it against the wood of the surface.
âWe donât knowâ, you both say it at the same time. One of those weird twin synchronicities both of you hate but canât escape.
âMum never told usâ Hyunjin mumbles, his face too closely pressed to the table for the words to come out right.
âBut donât I give off older sister vibes?â you smile triumphantly, trying to ignore Chanâs huff across from you, keeping your eyes locked to Changbin.
âTheyâve been doing this for years, how have you never noticed it?â Jisung pipes in, coming closer to bring Hyunjin a sweet treat. A sweet treat your brother had not ordered. A clear show of favouritism. Youâre about to point that out when Changbinâs reply distracts you.
âI think I only assumed Hyunjin was olderâ
âWhat?â you say at the same time as Hyunjin lifts his head, his smile almost splitting his face in half.
âI donât know, you just give off âneeds to be looked afterâ vibes?â Changbin seems confused but you are genuinely irritated now.
Hyunjin is almost floating off of his seat.
âWhat the fuck, that is such a prejudiced mindsetâ, you know itâs not that deep, but old habits die hard and you had similar discussions all your life.
âWhat? Why?â Changbin seems genuinely confused. It does nothing to appraise your anger.
âI need looking after? Thatâs such an alpha thing to say, specially to an omegaâ
Jeongin and Seungmin start to act out eating popcorn out of imaginary bowls.
âThatâs not what I mean!â Changbin starts to smell very gingerly all of a sudden. Chan gets a wrinkle on his nose, clearly sensing it too. Youâve been told thatâs what Changbin smells like when heâs nervous, embarrassed, although you had never smelled it properly like that yourself. Good.
âBesides, you know that the person who munches off of you is him, right?â You point to your brother, who has joined the other two youngest boys in their popcorn-eating antics.
âHey!â Hyunjin breaks the act to protest.
âHe doesnât munch off of meâ Changbin tries to defend himself, but the tip of his ears are turning red. You didnât mean to scold him but it didnât feel wrong, exactly, to be doing it.
âHe doesâ, Seungmin comes to your aid.
Hyunjin pauses, looks at his friend, relents. ââŠI doâ.
âI, however, am my sole caretakerâ, and youâre proud of that.
Your parents would not have had enough to help you through university, so you did it all yourself. You got multiple scholarships to help through your undergrad and was now almost done with your post-grad doing just the same. You lived at a cheap apartment far from everything, but you had furnished it entirely by yourself. The life you led was not one that would have been allowed even as soon as fifty years ago. It was something to brag about.
You open your mouth to say just that but are interrupted by an alarm going off. Seungmin quickly pulls out his phone to silence it.
He then takes out his backpack, fishes a pill bottle from inside and throws one of the little white circles down his throat before storing it away again.
âWhat is that?â Hyunjin asks. The whole table had watched the ritual in silence.
âSuppressantsâ, Minho replies, instead of Seungmin himself, having approached to signal Jisung he needed the younger back behind the counter.
âI didnât know you took those?â Hyunjin is confused but not judgmental.
You knew. Those kinds of talks always came around when it was just the omegas together, eventually. You had always had an irregular cycle and, early into your friendship with Seungmin, he had asked you why you didnât take heat suppressants to help every now and then.
As much as you appreciated his concern, you had a bad track with those, so you preferred to stay away. There was a phrase during your late teens when you were constantly on them. It didnât do you any good, and it only rewarded you with a couple of trips to the hospital. Safe to say your body did not like that and you almost seriously injured yourself.
Seungminâs cycles were shorter than yours and, for someone who took his routine so seriously, it made sense that he would take the suppressant route that many omegas did, to only get his heat every other month, like doctors considered healthy for someone your age. You sometimes got yours every month, sometimes went without one for three or four months. It would drive Seungmin insane.
âYou shouldnât take those too frequentlyâ, Hyunjin pipes in. He witnessed it first hand what suppressing every single heat for a year could do. That alone kept him away from taking rut suppressants, even when it would really benefit him.
âAs long as heâs being safeâ, itâs your turn to come to your friendâs defense.
âI donât know man, why would you even have to take those? They can really fuck you upâ Changbin, apparently recovered from you earlier scolding, seems to think itâs safe to butt in again.
It isnât.
âWell not every omega is lucky enough to only get their heats every once in a while, or not have them for months like herâ he points at you and you try to not feel attacked, this is not about you.
âI get taking them every now and then but like-â
âAt least Iâm not stinking up the place all the timeâ Seungmin cuts Changbin off, almost snarling at the older man.
âIâm not stinking up the placeâ Changbin deflates immediately, tries to say it confidently but turns to Hyunjin next, leaning closer, lowering his voice, âam I stinking up the place?â
âNo, baby, youâre fineâ Hyunjin pats his friendâs thigh and you canât hold back your snort.
âWhat?â Changbinâs head snaps to you, ears going red once more.
âHyunjin is also always stinking up the place so how would he know?â Seungmin provides the answer, voicing your exact thoughts.
âNo Iâm notâ
âYes you areâ, you confirm.
âYou canât even smell me that well, how would you know?â and heâs right.
Although you could read his moods depending on how his scent flared just like you could your own, biology and the whole growing-up-together made his smell a lot more muted for you.
âI have ears and Minho likes bitching about your dance practicesâ
âThat doesnât count!â
âYou kinda overdo it with the territorial thing at the studio, mateâ Chan is the one to add, joining the conversation briefly but standing up to head for the register, probably getting himself another drink.
âBut thatâs the one place I have to!â Hyunjin tries to defend himself, âMinho is an omega and Lix is treated as if he was one too, Iâm just keeping it safe for them!â
âSafe for them?â you point over his shoulder, towards the counter, where Minho prepares a drink for Felix who had just came in, both chatting amicably with Chan, âthose two over there?â
Hyunjin doesnât even turn to look at them, âyes, why is that so hard to believe?â
âYou mean to tell me that the boxer and the taekwondo black belt need your scent to feel safe?â
And itâs Hyunjinâs turn to visibly deflate.
Seungmin high fives you, childishly.
Jeongin looks between the two of you.
âYouâre scaryâ, he says, eyeing the alphas beside him, suddenly very small on their own frames.
· · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
When Minho is not at the cafe, he is at the gym.
He started going just to lift, maybe do some light cardio, more as a friendly gesture towards Changbin on those early days of the business than anything else. But then Changbin added the boxing ring and Minho started spending more time there after work. That was around the time you first met him, after your brother dragged you and your friends to the cafe, using you as proof that he was a chill cool alpha, when trying to convince Minho to join his dance team. The older later got roped into a dance competition with Felix and Hyunjin. You had the theory that he only did it to get closer to Jisung - who, at the time, was very antisocial and only really hung out with people he already knew, but again, youâd have to find the time to broach that conversation with one of them later.
No matter the details though, years later Minho would still come straight to the gym after closing the cafe, sometimes to box, sometimes to join the dancers. You, however, was never one to be at the gym. Therefore Minho, after hearing your whole âI donât need protectionâ speech a few weeks ago, was convinced that you could use with a personal defense class.
You donât tell him that youâve taken those before when you agree to come with.
It could be fun and you had been feeling a little anxious lately. A little exercise couldnât hurt. So you meet him at the cafe, just in time to hear him instructing Jisung on what should be done before closing. You get his last pour of the day, gladly taking the americano as part of the bribe to walk across the street and into the gym with him.
âYa hyung, youâre lateâ Changbin is saying, before he spots you besides Minho.
He says your name with confusion written all over his face.
You smile brightly back at him, lifts your takeaway coffee cup in a little cheer, âhi to you too!â
âWhat are you doing here?â
âCanât I visit?â
Before he can reply, Jeongin walks in from the back room, ânoona? You really made it?â
âWhy is everyone surprised that I came?â
âI thought you were joking when you said you were coming by earlierâ
You had a meeting with a professor earlier and bumped into Jeongin and Seungmin at the university. You mentioned to the younger that youâd see him again later and both of them joked about it, but you assumed they took you seriously after you kept confirming it over and over again.
Jeongin had his training attire on as well. Minho had been sparing with him lately and thought the maknae could use someone with less experience to practice with, hence you.
âWe had a bet going onâ, Felix chimes in from behind the front desk. You look at him quizzically and he continues, âwe thought you didnât even have workout clothes.â
You look down to check your own body. Running shoes? Check. A pair of sweatpants? Normal enough. Large T-Shirt you stole from your brother forever ago? Not specially fitness-guru appropriate but you had a gym top on underneath in case you got too warm while boxing as well. Seemed good enough for you.
So you do a twirl and finish it off with a little pose, popping out your hip.
Changbin is standing right in front of you and his eyes follow the line of your body. You half expect him to make a joke about you not having proper clothes to work out on but he locks his jaw and remains quiet, his adamâs apple moving as he forces down a gulp.
Minho nudges you, âstop playing around, letâs fightâ
âYou know just how to charm a girlâ, you say back, but follow him nonetheless.
He makes you and Jeongin stretch and run in place to warm up for a bit, before taking your hand to wrap it up, preparing it for the gloves. He completes your right hand but then Jeongin calls him over to help, so you stay in place, holding the gloves and the tape on the corner of the mat, like an NPC whose turn to interact had not came yet.
You feel a light tap on your leg and look down to see Changbin leaning in on the ropes.
âNeed help with that?â
You wordlessly lift the rope to help him step up and in, handing him the tape so he can finish wrapping your other hand for you.
Heâs focused on getting it right but you can tell he doesnât have much practice with it. You could help him but that would blow your cover way too soon. So you just keep your silent watch. Itâs endearing, really, how much attention heâs giving to the menial task.
âIs that too tight?â
You shake your head no. Canât help the small smile that escapes you, directed at the big men holding your hand whoâs too scared of hurting you.
His patches have probably already worn out. It starts to smell warm, almost like a chai latte - your personal favorite. All of Changbinâs usual spices, but sweeter. If it was anyone else youâd probably warn him about it. But you knew it was almost closing time for the general public as well, your friends making for the majority of the people still around.
And you knew Changbin had a long day.
And he has such a nice smell, you couldnât really imagine anyone complaining about it.
âHey, you ready?â Minho calls you over from the center of the mat.
Changbin steps aside and moves out of the ring again, allowing you to join the other two at the center.
At first Minho goes over a couple basic moves. You control your strength, takes in his corrections, plays it dumb but takes it seriously. Heâs a good teacher. Jeongin is also holding back, you can tell. But you think heâs none the wiser about how youâre mapping out his actions with precision because of that.
Minho finally allows you to spar without much guidance, and you canât help but get a punch in when you see an opening.
Jeongin steps back with betrayal written all over his face. You know your eyes are sparkling with victory right back. You sneak a glance at Minho and heâs already watching you with his eyebrows raised. You donât see Changbin but you can sense him behind you, too. His scent taking a turn to something you canât quite place. You tilt your head facing Jeongin, faking innocence. Beginners luck, surely.
He scoffs and adjust his feet. You resume the game, keep going at each other. You go back to holding back and keeps your focus mostly at avoiding Jeonginâs punches. You smell your brother before you see him as well, his patches also having reached the end of their life after hours of sweating through them.
âWhat are they doing?â You hear his voice behind you, probably having joined Changbin in watching. You keep your focus on Jeongin.
âBoxing,â Changbin says, a distracted sound to the reply.
âOk, but why?â Hyunjin insists, and Jeongin almost manages to sneak in a punch while your attention shifts to the conversation happening behind you.
âI donât know, Minho hyung wanted your sister to be able to defend herselfâ, Changinâs reply comes with more words but keep that aloof characteristic to it. He has probably seen how you barely escaped Jeonginâs touch.
Hyunjin cackles and it almost allows for your attention to slip, but you lean out of Jeonginâs reach again just in time.
âHer!?â Your brothers voice is loud, he wants you to hear it. You feel your cheeks begin to heat up, your cover is about to be blown and you prepare for it, âsheâs been boxing for years!â
No reason to hold back anymore, so you choose to square a lethal punch that breaks into Jeonginâs defenses.
âYa, noona!â the younger boy spits as you turn back to your sibling, already starting to free your hands.
âWhy canât you ever let me have fun?â you throw one of the gloves at Hyunjin at the same time as heâs extending a water bottle to you, old routine, old habits. He used to come watch you practice often enough for the motion to feel natural.
âItâs not fair to them,â he points dramatically at what you can only assume are two very confused men behind you. Changbin is still leaning onto the ropes, staring up at you with his mouth hanging open.
âYeah noona, what the fuck?â Jeongin sounds winded and you turn to see him also taking off his gloves and passing them on to Minho, who already has his own hands wrapped.
âMy turn thenâ, the older lifts an eyebrow, challenging. A smile takes over your face. Now that would be much more fun.
âThat hardly sounds fair eitherâ, Changbin finally breaks his silence.
âHuh, I think Iâll be alrightâ, you shrug your shoulders, trading the water back for the gloves with Hyunjin, turning to wink at Changbin at the last second.
He blushes, but youâre already focused on the omega in front of you, posture locked in place.
Neither you nor Minho hold back this time. Both sneaking enough hits that youâre sure youâll have a couple of bruises the next morning.
When he finally gives you a signal to stop, Hyunjin and Changbin are still where you last left them, joined by Jeongin, Felix and Chan.
âThat was hotâ, the oldest one says, earning himself an elbow to the side from your brother, âwhat?â
âHeâs rightâ, Jeongin adds, and Hyunjin has to reach behind Changbin to slap the younger boy behind his head.
âThats my sister, please shut upâ
âI was talking about Minho hyungâ, Jeongin replies, patting his head where Hyunjin had hit him.
âI was notâ, Chan doubles down, with a rare glint of mischief on his eyes.
You blow him a kiss once you have your hands free. Again Changbinâs scent flares, a different smell you never got from him before.
âI recorded if you want to see it laterâ, Felix adds, directed at Chan but meant for you to hear. Or so you think.
âDonâtâ, Minho says, approaching to hand you a water bottle.
âBut hyung, Jisung would love to see itâ, Felix puts on his best puppy face, the effect being enhanced by the fact that you were still standing above him on the ring.
Minho rolls his eyes but says nothing as he steps down. Felix and Chan exchange a look that communicates more than you are able to decipher. You start to follow Minho out of the ring when you see Changbinâs hand suddenly extended to you, helping you out.
âThank youâ, you murmur, not willing to admit your legs do feel wobbly after all that exercise. Itâs been a while since you last practiced and Minho really was much better than you, you could admit as much.
âSame time next week?â your new boxing instructor calls from across the place, where heâs already following your brother and Felix up to the dance studio.
You nod and wave him goodbye, moving the other way behind Jeongin, with Changbin still by your side. He must have taken control of his scent, as you could barely smell him now, even standing much closer. You hate how much you immediately miss it.
âHow are you getting home?â He asks quietly, just for you to hear.
âIâll probably take the busâ, he reaches behind the counter where you had dropped your bag earlier, hands it to you.
âWant me to drive you?â he offers, already grabbing his keys and backpack too, âJeongin can finish closing upâ
âHey!â the younger complains, but thatâs as far as it goes when Changbin looks his way, a whole conversation happening within those looks. You hate being left out of it, again. Jeongin exhales, defeated, âokay, yeah, I can closeâ
âThan yeah, thatâd be greatâ, you agree, shaking away the odd feeling. You try to dismiss your insecurities about the way you must smell. You probably had sweated through your scent patches too, and your hair is sticking to your forehead and to the back of your neck. Thereâs an uncomfortable feeling creeping up your spine that you canât place. Maybe just your anxiety acting up again, so much for exercise helping you with it.
Changbin pulls something out of his backpack before handing it to you, âit will be cold out and youâre still warm, you should put this onâ
Itâs his hoodie.
You smile in appreciation and immediately puts it on.
The smell is overwhelming in the best way possible. You feel a lot calmer already, the anxiety melting away. You have to hold back a purr, what the fuck?
Trying to play it cool, you follow him to his car in silence but, just as you make yourself comfortable in the passenger seat, your stomach grumbles loudly.
âOh my god, thatâs embarrassingâ, you say out loud, an arm crossing over your midsection, the other covering your eyes.
Changbin laughs. Itâs not a mocking laugh though, its something different. Familiar, gentle, fond.
âI could eatâ, is all he says.
âThereâs this pizza place near my apartment thatâs pretty goodâ, you offer back, appreciative of his indirect offer.
So you help guide the way, directing him through the weird twists and turns of your neighbourhood. The restaurant is not full, but you take a seat outside anyway. Itâs starting to grow chilly so you keep his hoodie on. If you bring your nose closer to the collar every now and then to sniff it, is nobodyâs business.
You have a pretty similar taste in food, is what you find out. You have eaten together before many times, but it was usually more of a group setting. Itâs amazing how fast you decide on flavours to share - specially knowing Changbin was not much of a sharer himself.
And it never got awkward.
The two of you could talk for hours and not run out of things to say, which was nice. And you knew that already, of course, but you are glad to find out that it didnât only hold up when you were all hanging out at the cafe or at a house party, with your other friends around you. It remained just the same when it was only you and him.
âSo, how did you become so good at boxing?â he finally breaches the subject, moving from the previous topic seamlessly. You feel a slight awkwardness though, try to mask it as best as you could.
âHave you ever seen my brother? He has such a punchable face, I couldnât help itâ, you joke. Changbin laughs politely but waits for you to continue.
You force your shoulder to relax. This is not a story you like to share, part of the reason why only your brother knew about your early adulthood hyper fixation in fighting styles. When you said yes to boxing with Minho you thought it would be something you could keep from the others. And truth be told, you missed the freedom, the release that fighting allowed you.
âItâs not that interesting of a storyâ, you start, and Changbin waves his hand, signalling for you to keep going, before picking up the final slice of pizza.
You look around. The restaurant was not particularly packed but there were still enough people around you to overhear.
âItâs not really light dinner conversation eitherâ, you insist. You hope he drops it, but you also know him better than that.
âThatâs alright, I could walk for a bit, I ate too muchâ, and once again, you appreciate the out he gives you, so you nod along.
He asks for the tab and insists on paying, âMinho hyungâs face when he realised you could actually fight was priceless, this is the least I can do.â
He then forfeits his car for the sake of waking you home.
It is a nice evening, the skies are clear and the moon is out, almost full. You can feel your omega happy while you look up at the bright orb during your stroll.
Changbin keeps his hands on his pockets but walks a little bit closer, his body warmth reaching you. Your hands also stay on your pockets but, every now and then, you allow your shoulder to brush his side.
He doesnât push the subject but you can feel it hanging between you.
âSo, the boxingâ, you start.
He hums, letting you know heâs listening.
Itâs been a while since you last told the story, so you try to not overthink as the words come to you.
âThere was this accident, when I was youngerâ
You give yourself time, Changbin moves a little bit closer.
âI presented a bit lateâ, you start again, âeveryone kinda thought Iâd be an alpha like Hyunjinâ
Changbin puffs out air in amusement, âI can see thatâ
âYeah, he presented almost a whole year before me and when I finally did it, it was a surprise for everyoneâ, you allow the amusement to show on your voice.
Back then it had been really confusing, but now you could laugh at the expectations, the way everyone had tried to mask their shock when you shared the news of what the goddess had assigned you.
âWhen was that?â
âI was sixteen, almost seventeenâ, you keep going, not giving your brain time to process before you move on, âit was our last year of school and I was having a little bit of trouble keeping upâ
âYou?â he exaggerates the ask, trying to keep the mood light, probably feeling the switch on your posture.
âYeah, I know, shocker! Iâm the brains and Hyunjin is the looksâ, you roll your eyes but itâs in good humor, you donât really mind the distinction, Changbin opens his mouth to protest but you donât let him, âitâs fine, Iâve heard that all my lifeâ
He closes his mouth but shakes his head in disagreement. You donât want to decipher what that means so you move on.
âBut you know I have really irregular heats, right?â you ask and he nods his acknowledgment, it was a pretty well known fact amongst your friend group, with you flaking on enough plans last minute for them to notice.
âHas it always been like that?â
âPretty much, yeahâ, you confirm and he nods in understanding, âbut back then I couldnât really tell when it was coming up, I still canât, a lot of the times, but I got used to skipping pre-heat entirely and nowadays Iâm better prepared for it, I can pick up on the signs fasterâ
You stop in place. Is it weird to be discussing this with an alpha? Even if society has moved to a point where omegas talking about their heats was no longer a big taboo, it was not really something discussed that straightforward. And here you are, sun already long set, out in the open with an alpha, talking about one of your biggest insecurities like it is nothing.
âYou alright?â Changbin stops a couple steps ahead of you when he notices youâre not following.
âIs this weird?â
âWhat?â
âUs. Talking about this?â
He seems to think about it for an instant before lightly shrugging his shoulder, âI donât think soâ.
âWould you talk about your ruts like this?â Youâre still not convinced.
âWith you?â You nod your head yes, âprobably, yeahâ
That checks out. You feel comfortable with him, always had. You were glad to know it seemed to go both ways, so you resume your walking. Thereâs a little bit of extra trust placed there, it feels like a step forward between the friendship the two of you share.
âSo there was this one time, rightâ, you continue as if you had never stopped, âI had to stay late to study because my heats had been making me miss a lot of classes and I couldnât keep up that wellâ
He keeps his pace beside you, looking straight ahead instead of at you.
âI really wanted to go to university and so did Hyunjinnie. My parents had already said they could only afford to send one of us, so I was doing my best to try and get some sort of financial aid. I wanted to find a way so that we both could go. We both know Hyunjin never had the grades for a scholarship so I assumed I was our best shot. All of a sudden I present and like, six months in and my grades are already slipping. And! And! Itâs my final year, yeah? So the worst possible timing for it to happen.â
Changbin suddenly places a hand on the small of your back, guiding you closer to him so you donât step on a cracked piece of the sidewalk you didnât even realize you were heading towards. His hand retreats immediately as you move past it. You have to swallow the urge to ask for the touch back.
âThank youâ, you murmur, shake your head, gets back to the story, âHyunjin had left already, that day. My parents were still at work and there was some sort of strike going on, so no buses were running. I had been alone at the library for most of the afternoon so I couldnât really tell anything was weird at firstâ
You laugh at yourself, thinking back to the day. How you barely had any appetite, how your brain had felt scattered even as you tried to stay focused on the books in front of you.
âIt was the fucking librarian that said I should probably go home. She just came up to my table and said, loud and clear, âhey honey I think your heat is starting, can you get home safely?ââ you do air quotes while remembering it, mimics the tone of her voice.
You had replayed that interaction many times over the years, always reaching the conclusion that it was that moment where something couldâve gone differently. If you had not felt so immediately embarrassed maybe you couldâve sensed the care on her voice, the gentle way she had approached you.
âAnd I felt so ashamed because I knew she was right, I donât even know if I said anything back, I just packed my stuff and left as fast as possible. I think it was alright at firstâ, you pause, considering how to put it, âdo you remember how patches used to be back then? And they were expeeeeeensive so I could never afford the really good ones. But I remember thinking it should be alright, it was just a few blocks and the street was mostly empty anyway.â
You can tell Changbin is growing tense, he has stopped controlling his scent a while ago, and you could smell it becoming more and more sour after every word you said. So you decide to cut to the chase, it felt like you were dragging both of you along at that point.
âNothing really bad happenedâ, you start and he finally turns to look at you, he does not believe it, not really.
You take a deep breath in, you never like remembering this part.
âThere were these guys, you know, I think they were coming back from the park near my house, one of them was carrying a basketball, they mustâve been only a couple years older than meâ
A whole group of alphas. Their smell reaching you even before they turned the street corner. You had to urge your feet to keep going because what would they do, anyway? It was the modern world, omegas should not feel unsafe just walking on the street anymore.
But you were a young omega in heat and, when met with bad people, instincts could easily take over.
It had started out with looks. You kept your head down towards the pavement, avoided eye contact. But then one called to you. At first you could ignore it, even as other voices joined him. But when the calls grew more specific, you looked up.
They were right in front of you. One reached to touch your face. You stepped back and noticed every little change of his expression.
Two of them exchanged a look behind the first one. To this day you could not decipher what it meant. A warning? An agreement? A question?
Even if your brain had trouble following, your body knew what to do. And you ran.
You were fast but not that fast. Adrenaline made you sprint at first, but you grew tired way too quickly. You could still smell them behind you, so you took the first turn into an alley and kept going. While jumping over a fence you felt the wire cut into the material of your pants. Thatâs when your own smell hit you, the pain making it hard for you to control the roll out of your own scent.
That only seemed to entice them more. They kept chasing you, the fence only slightly slowing them down. You reach the park near your house and just as your legs are threatening to give out, you see your brother.
Hyunjin is already running towards you, a mixture of fear and anger written all over his face, an expression you had never seen before, and witnessed very few times since.
The man chasing you slow down, but donât fully stop. Hyunjin might have been an alpha, but he was a scrawny teenager just like yourself. Not far behind him, however, you recognised the ajumma that ran the grocery shop nearby. There were a few older woman with her, people you had seen around the neighbourhood before but never talked to.
Later you would learn that, in your dazed confusion, blinded by fear, you ran right past the grocery shop - and didnât even think of coming in, of asking for help. The ajumma recognised you and called your place immediately, having the number from the recurring orders your mom placed with her. Pure dumb luck was the fact that your brother had been at home and picked up, leaving in a hurry. He had detected your scent straight away, so strong he had no trouble tracking you. The other women had been either at the store or nearby, and recognized the smell of a scared omega, coming along to see what was the trouble. And thank goodness for them.
The small crowd dispersed the men. One of the older woman had called the cops, you all had to give out statements. You remember your parentsâ hushed voices those following days. How Hyunjin had been, loudly voicing his anger, his words carrying through the door and into your room, where you were locked in dealing with your heat. Because itâs not like it went away. Even after waiting at the police station, even after shaking on the back of your parentâs car.
You had never heard them so defeated. Nothing ever came out of the police search but a little bit of acquired trauma. Hyunjin would go on to never let you walk from school alone again, the habit bleeding into your first year of college. You were the one that had to finally put an end to it, well into your second year at the university you both coincidentally chose. Truth be told, you knew he followed you there.
You had studied hard, the anxiety about going out after the accident ended up helping you in that sense. Of course there were downsides. Most of your friends didnât stick around, you started to depend on Hyunjinâs social life a lot. He had always been popular and pretty and fun. The rare times you went out, you were always with him. His friends saw you as his weird skittish sister, you knew as much. It took you years to find your sense of humor again.
But you did, eventually.
You went through therapy and picked up a couple of self defense classes, later going into boxing. That was encouraged by your parents, the only way you knew theyâd feel okay with you living away. If that was not enough, though, you still had your twin.
When you got in, it took him only a couple of days to convince your mum and dad that the dance program your university offered was the best idea for him as well. Both of you lived at the dorms during that first year, separate quarters, based on your secondary genders, but still close enough.
You kept to yourself, most of the time, but could feel Hyunjin starting to grow tired of that once your first year had wrapped. He had thrived in uni. Well, not academically, that was more your realm. But socially? He was at every party, every event, every club. And he didnât have as much time for you anymore. He never said anything, but you knew. You had the freakish twin powers, after all. He was tired of having to babysit you. Of having to drag you along.
So you decided you could look after yourself.
And you did.
It started right after summer.
There was a shared class with Seungmin, a professor that had slotted you two together for a project when you didnât really know each other. The friendship seemed to have grown out of nowhere, you went from bickering and disagreeing to meeting up for breakfast before classes. It had been years since you last had a friend like him. Seungmin knew your brother already - who didnât? They shared a friend you would later meet yourself, going on to share many post-grad classes with Jeongin years down the line. Seungmin also introduced you to Jisung, another anxious mess, and it was only when your brother took an immediate dislike to the other alpha that you decided enough was enough and that Hyunjin no longer needed to shadow you everywhere.
Little did you know that Hyunjin and Jisung would later become thick as thieves, but only after many years of you and Seungmin bringing Jisung along - partially only to mess with them.
âAnd thats it, the big villain origin storyâ, you say, trying to lighten the mood.
Changbinâs jaw is set and you can see him take a few breaths before finally turning to look at you.
âIâm sorry that happenedâ
You tap his arm a couple of times, lean in closer, âyou have nothing to be sorry for, Bin, you werenât thereâ
âStill.â
âAnd besides, because of that I stopped fighting with Hyunjin as muchâ, you take the liberty of lacing your arm through his, almost resting your head on his shoulder as both of you slow down the pace. You walk like that for a while.
âWeâre almost at your placeâ, he says, quietly, almost scared to break the moment.
At least you think its a moment. Most of your friends donât know any of that. You think Seungmin picked up on some of it over the years, but it was the first time you told the whole story out loud. It explained a lot about your dynamic with your sibling, about what your friend group meant to you, about why you were always deflecting with humor. You had many years without it, no point depraving yourself of it now. But it was still hard to talk about.
âCould you likeâ, you start, voice steady but with less of a bite than usual, ânot tell anyone about this? It doesnât really affect me too much nowadays but it ruins my whole badass persona.â
He side eyes you, a glint of humor back in his eyes.
âYou have a badass persona?â
You draw back, unlacing your arm from his. He makes a movement to follow you, to maybe keep you where you were? But youâre not sure because, just as soon as the movement starts, it ceases. You pretend you donât notice.
âOf course I have, why do you think Jisung is afraid of me?â
That drags a laugh out of him, âJisung is not afraid of youâ
âYes he is, have you seen how he looks at me lately?â
âThatâs not fear, thatâs jealousyâ
And the information surprises you, âwhat?â
âYeah, notice how it only happens at the cafe.â
You think about it for a second. Heâs right. Whenever the two of you hang out in there, he seems to avoid you, to make himself smaller. But that doesnât really hold up anywhere else, in the few classes you share or at the studio - where youâve been spending more and more time.
âHuh?â you fully stop on your tracks, âis it because of Minho?â
âDing ding dingâ, he says, mimicking sounding a bell with his hands as well, âwe have a winner!â
âOh my goddess, why?â
âI donât know either, youâre clearly into Chan.â
That makes you stop again but this time you hold onto his shirt, making him stop with you, âwhat?â
âWhat?â it takes him half a second to notice youâre holding into him, dragging you along for another step before stopping.
âIâm not into Chan?â you say, holding eye contact.
Chan is cool and everything, but too burdened by the horrors of the world to be your type. Youâre more into people that are steady, better at keeping things fun. Someone you can chat with and not feel like youâre being bothersome, who can distract you and keep your mind from spiralling even when youâre being sensitive or annoying or dramatic, someone like-
âYouâre not?â He seems genuinely surprised, âbut youâre always flirting with himâ
âNo Iâm notâ
âYes you areâ
âWhat makes you think that?â
âI donât know, youâre always invading his personal spaceâ
You look at the way the two of you are standing, your hand clinging into the fabric of his shirt, holding him as close to yourself as the position allows.
âAm I flirting with you?â you ask, genuinely, but the question makes you realize that yeah, maybe you are a little bit.
Changbinâs cheeks turn bright pink, âwhat, no, what?â
âI invade everyoneâs personal space, thatâs my whole thing when I get comfortable with peopleâ, and you let go of his shirt, takes half a step back, âI didnât know people were reading it differentlyâ
Maybe you wanted Changbin to read it differently.
He grows quiet, you resume your walking, he follows.
âIâm not into Chanâ, you say once more, as you reach the entrance to your building.
âI believe youâ, he says.
But youâre not sure if he means it.
âThank you for walking me homeâ, youâre about to open the door when his scent flares, making you think of what youâre still wearing, âoh yeah, I almost forgotâŠâ
You start to take off his hoodie but he places a hand on your arm, stopping your movement midway.
âNo, itâs alright, you can give it back to me laterâ
âOkâ, you wonât insist.
âGoodnightâ, he says, voice unusually small for Changbin.
âNight, Binâ
The door closes behind you and you start missing his warmth immediately.
You bring the hem of the hoodie to your nose, it still smells like him.
After your shower, you put it back on. No one needs to know how youâre about to go to sleep wearing your friendâs scent. Something about the way his cinnamon clings to your skin, mixing perfectly with your fresh apples, reminds you of a time before life got in the way. It makes you feel like it could all be simple again.
Sleep is still avoiding you, and you take the time to think back on your entire night. Itâs only then that you notice how the subject had shifted. How he went from bothered at your story to joking with you again, bantering back and forth, gossiping, distracting you. He always had a way with making you more comfortable then most.
He is always so kind, but so sturdy.
The memory of the weigh of his hand on your lower back makes your omega feel soothed, protected. You eventually fall asleep, thinking about the sound of his laugh.
· · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
You had been feeling good the entire night up to that point.
It is the end of the semester - and the first time you properly got to dress up in what feels like forever. The university gala was at full force around you.
At first you laughed at the concept of attending. Some fancy event most of the faculty had to go to but despised, with some post-grad and PHD students being dragged along. You had always seen it as just a way for the university to show off their scholarship students - well, the successful ones. To parole them around so that investors could see where their money was going.
That was before you were one of those success cases.
At least you had Jeongin with you too, which made the night less unbearable. Even fun.
Free food, unlimited drinks and even a photobooth that was hired for the event. You could think of worst ways to spend an evening. So what if you had to entertain some old guy in a suit for a little bit, talk about your research, your aspirations, while they pretended to care? You were easily bought, all it took was the offer of a couple glasses of wine.
Jeongin had just stepped out of the photobooth, waiting with you as it finished printing your images. It was four shots, you had your faces pressed together, glasses in hand, pulling faces from goofy to serious. You hold the strip of photos for him to take a picture with his own phone to send it to the group chat, trying your best to avoid the reflection of the light, the tips of your manicured fingers unavoidably staying in frame.
felixÂ
you look so gooooooood
jisungÂ
i should try for a scholarship next semester
youÂ
i think its too late for you buddy
jisungÂ
âčïž
chanÂ
have fun!
You were feeling light, a little buzzed from the alcohol. The night was still young, the party had started before sunset but it was only just picking up. The speeches had been closed, the drinks were flowing and you were happily laughing with one of your favorite people, both avoiding your own professors.
So thatâs why it takes you way too long to realize what is happening.
Thereâs a waiter passing by Jeongin holding tiny snacks, you have barely eaten all day and, although youâre not hungry, you know you should put some food in you, drink some water - otherwise the next day would be hell. You reach to get the waiters attention, ends up getting a little too close to Jeongin. He smells vaguely citrusy, like lemons and oranges mixed together.
Next thing you know, you have your cheek pressed against his neck, eyes closed, drowning in his scent.
To his merit, he only rests a hand on your waist to help hold you in place, completely unfazed by how you are so openly scenting him.
âSorryâ, you murmur, finding your balance again.
âYou good?â He keeps his voice down but his expression has changed into something filled with concern.
âItâs my damn heat coming out of nowhere againâ, you were not good at noticing the very first signs but, had you not been drinking, you could probably have figured it out sooner.
Your last heat was a little over two months ago, so you shouldâve been more in tune with it coming again soon. The rare times you kept a somehow regulated cycle, it would usually be on a sixty-days rotation.
âYou should leave, right?â Jeongin was far from an expert, everything he knew about omegas he had picked up from your friends, but an omega openly in heat was far from ideal. That was basic common sense.
âProbably, yeah, if I donât want to embarrass myself and lose this sponsorshipâ
âI can go with youâ, his hand is still gently on your lower back, you appreciate how it helps ground you.
âNo, no, they will notice if the two of us leave, you still have to make us poor smart people look goodâ
The joke doesnât have the effect you hope, Jeongin frowns.
âAre you sure? I donât like the idea of you leaving by yourselfâ
âIâll take a taxi, itâll be fineâ, you squeeze his hand this time, bringing it away from your body but holding onto it, âIâd appreciate if you could, likeâŠâ
You donât need to finish, he moves closer, steps into your orbit. Presses his own cheek to yours, rubs your necks together as discreetly as he can. People that didnât know you would just assume you were dating, people that knew you would not find it weird at all, you were always smelling a bit like each other anyway.
Jeonginâs scent is comforting. It lands somewhere between your fruity one and Hyunjinâs fresh cut grass on an early spring day. Itâs not as strong, or as sweet, with the maknae being a beta. But it gets the job done. Itâs familiar, fraternal. You try not to cling to it too much.
It takes you longer than you would like to admit to get yourself under control. You gently push him back, he still doesnât seem fully convinced about letting you go by yourself. Thereâs a staring contest in place before you realize it, a battle of wills. You win. You usually do. He breathes out.
âPlease be safe?â
You nod, kisses his cheek goodbye.
âYou know that I can defend myselfâ, and you punch him lightly on the belly, for good measure.
He lets go of you to massage the place your fist connected to him, exaggerating his reaction for your benefit. It works, makes you giggle. Jeongin has your back.
On your way out you avoid making eye contact with anyone you knew, trying to keep your head down. You donât have much time before your scent starts giving you away, before itâs so strong not even the recent scenting would be enough to cover it up. You hear a colleague wish you goodbye, you wave back without slowing down or turning back. Someone else wishes you a good break. You donât respond to that.
Because of course your heat would arrive right before the university break. You were looking forward to making the trip back home for the week. Now you would probably spend at least half of the days off stuck at your shitty apartment, while Hyunjin drives down for days of being pampered by your parents. And then, after having to deal with the hell that was another heat alone, you would have to take the bus home. Hours stuck with strangers right when you were at your most sensitive, just for the sake of being a filial daughter.
A nightmare.
But you had to keep your place as the favorite.
You only have to wait a couple of minutes for the taxi you called on the app to pull in. You slide in already confirming your address to the driver, not really bothering to look up as you are distracted drafting a message to your brother. You had just hit send on the text letting him know heâd have to drive by himself tomorrow when the smell hits you.
The man is not wearing blockers at all. His scent is so strong you physically recoil. It smells metallic, rusty, wrong. It feels like a punch to your senses, and itâs unmistakably alpha.
He seems to sense a shift, looking you over the rearview mirror. That look is all it takes to set off all your internal alarms.
You have to get out of this taxi.
But itâs already moving and the guy knows where you live. This is not good.
You look down to your lap again, unlocks your phone, swipes into the group chat.
youÂ
where is everyone?
chanÂ
studio
seungminÂ
home
jisungÂ
hell
It all comes in quick succession. You sneak a glance to the man again, try to keep your breathing steady, control your scent. Your phone buzzes again.
jisungÂ
i mean the cafe
Ok. Thatâs good. You can figure something out with that.
youÂ
can you meet me at the door?
jisungÂ
ughhhhh
iâm closing up
will you take too long?
Jisung probably thinks you want a free coffee. You should not have been taking advantage of that. Thereâs no time to clarify what you mean before your phone starts ringing. Itâs Minho. You pick up, hating how you know what you should do immediately. Hating that youâre put in that situation at all. You make your voice saccharine sweet, pitch high.
âHey baby!â
Minho says your name back, confused. You can imagine him pulling the phone away from his ear to check if he has the right person. Itâs not like you could explain it. You hope he catches on.
âYeah, Iâm almost home, just got in the taxiâ, you start, as if your friend had asked you a question. The driver looks through the rearview mirror again, you look away fast but try to play it cool, push the next words out as confidently as possible, âshould I come over?â
Minho does catch on, voice as serious as you ever heard, âare you safe?â
âI donât know, maybe?â you keep your tone light.
âCan you make it to the cafe?â
âYeah, sure, itâs on my way home anywayâ, you guard you expression and holds in your scent as much as possible when you direct your attention to the driver, âsorry, do you think you can drop me off at a different location?â
He does not look pleased, his scent sours, âI donât know, missâ
âYou donât have to change the route, just drop me off a little earlierâ, you play it naively, âIâll pay for the full ride anywayâ.
The driver gives you a short nod but keeps his face stone cold, starting to look at you through the rearview mirror at every turn. You pretend that you donât notice.
âIs it the driver?â Minhoâs voice drags your attention back.
âYeahâ, you reply as you would, tone slightly off, you recognise the trace of fear in your own voice. You recover, remembering that you must keep the facade up, relax your face, âI should be there in five minutes, babeâ
âCan you stay on the line with me?â
You know you are about to run out of battery. Jeongin and you really took a lot of pictures during the few hours at the event. You donât want to say any of that out lout though, donât want to risk having your phone turn off while youâre still inside the taxi.
âLove you too, see you in a bitâ, and you hang up, still hearing Minhoâs voice protesting on the other side.
The streets are already familiar, youâre close enough to the cafe to be able to get there by yourself already. Your heart starts to calm down.
âWas that your boyfriend, miss?â the driver asks.
You fake a smile and nods your head yes.
âWhy was he not with you at the party?â he presses.
You look at the darkened screen of your phone. 2% left. You can make it.
It lights up again.
hyunjinÂ
home, why?
And again.
changbinÂ
just leaving the gym
jeonginÂ
did you make it home noona?
You shouldnât text back. Canât risk your battery running out.
minhoÂ
sheâs coming to the cafe
somethingâs wrong
The texts keep coming. Your battery flashes 1%. You lock your phone and flips it on your lap. You should say something back to the driver. You look up to see him already staring at you.
âHe had to work.â
He doesnât seem phased by the late reply, âif I had an omega like you, Iâd never let her out of my sightâ
You keep your lips pressed together, as close to a smile as you can muster.
âIs that so?â, your voice is light.
Youâre almost there.
âYou could find a better alpha if you triedâ, his scent grows stronger, heâs one push away from choking you to death with it.
You canât take it anymore.
âHey you can drop me off hereâ, you try to not sound panicked but is not sure if it worked.
The cafe is close enough. Itâs dark out but some places are still open, even if there is not a lot of people outside. You can make it, Minho should be waiting for you, probably Jisung too.
The car slows down. He doesnât seem pleased by your request, but pulls over anyway. You undo the seatbelt before the vehicle has fully stopped, reaching for your purse, fishing for your wallet. All as fast as you can while trying to remain natural.
You hand him enough to cover two times the trip, hoping it will distract him for long enough to allow you to step out. He seems to sense something is off. Instead of reaching for the money, he holds onto your wrist.
Hand open immediately, the bills fall to his lap and instincts kick in. Years of practice for moments like this, paying off. You turn your arm, a swift but forceful motion, setting yourself free. Your other hand is already pulling the door open, feet hitting the floor.
You force yourself to walk. Donât run, donât run, donât run. Because thatâs basic safety knowledge every omega learns early in life. You had learned it through experience. If you trigger their chase instinct, specially when you know your scent smells like it does now, youâre as good as gone. Donât turn yourself into prey.
But then his smell reaches you, because he also stepped out of the car.
And suddenly youâre a teenager again, the ugly scar on your leg, long healed, aches as if it is brand new. Your scent flares rotten, like fruits that dropped to the floor and had been taken over by maggots. But it seems like he doesnât care, because his scent turns stronger, a direct reaction.
You run against your better judgement.
The chase is immediate. Are you about to become a statistic? You are wearing a long dress and strappy heels, coming back from a gala, for fuckâs sake! It feels so unfair, you never even had a chance.
You can already see the police report. The line about how you were drunk. How you were in active heat at a public place. How you pretty much asked for it.
Heâs close. But the cafe is right around the corner. One turn, two more blocks. You could make it.
His smell is overpowering you, it almost makes you slow down. You can hear him too, now. His breathing is steady, a raspiness to it. If he decides to voice that growl building up on his chest, you donât know how your body would react. You know your omega feels cornered, but would she make you stop if commanded by an alpha?
Your legs are starting to tire, your stomach is starting to cramp. Youâre about to give up and fight, before he can do anything else. Maybe the surprise element will give you an advantage. The basic forms are running through your mind when someone runs past you. You hear the moment their bodies collide, but doesnât dare to stop and look back. A path of black pepper guides you forward.
When your eyes focus, Minho and Jisung are running towards you. Minho opens his arms and you thrown yourself on his chest. Youâre shaking but he circles your form and holds tight.
Safe. safe. safe. safe.
He screams something but you can only tell because of how his chest vibrates. It feels like youâre drowning, already too far away from the surface to understand whatâs above it.
âYouâre okay, I got youâ, he whispers right on your ear, not a trace of the anger. It feels like a hand reaching out to pull you out of the deep end, âcan you walk?â
You nod faintly and tries to take a step, your knees almost give out.
âIâll pick you up, okay?â He doesnât wait for your reply, lifting you in one swift motion, one hand under your knees, another behind your back.
You hide your face on his neck. Youâre scared and hurt and embarrassed, but Minho smells like caramel coffee and bourbon. It had aways been considered strong for an omega but to you it is comforting, familiar, safe.
He starts walking towards the cafe, you look over his shoulder in time to see a police car approaching. Both Jisung and Changbin are holding the man down. Changbin looks up at you for a second, as if feeling your eyes on him. You canât hold his gaze, the concern it holds almost makes you gasp, so close to the surface but not there yet. You hide your face on Minho again.
He keeps a steady pace, you should be only a block away from the safety of his cafe. But, when you hear Jisungâs voice calling, Minho freezes. You look up to find that your goofy producer friend has a black eye. It breaks your heart and Minhoâs entire posture shifts.
You want to tell him to put you down, you know he wants to tend to Jisung, but youâre selfish - and too scared that your legs wonât be able to hold you up still.
âHere, can I help?â itâs Changbin, stepping closer to Minho, arms already held out. Minho hesitates until you nod, and then he passes you over as if you weigh nothing.
The effect is immediate. You can finally breath. Minhoâs arms had felt safe, but now it feels like nothing could ever touch you again.
Changbin doesnât straight out react at all when you rub your cheek to the soft spot on his neck, needing to be rid of any smell remaining from the driver. But his scent flares. Itâs all black peppers for a moment still, pure anger. But the cinnamon slowly creeps back in and, as you stay longer, it mixes with the overly sweet apples of your heat.
He turns his head so you can have more access and you hungrily takes it.
It smells like the late afternoon on the countryside. A cozy night in, disconnected from the world. A freshly baked apple pie at the end of the summer, when the cold breeze makes your body shiver after a day laying in the sun.
You make it to the cafe. You feel the vibration of Changbinâs throat as he explains to Minho what has happened, but you can barely focus on the words, too busy lost in the mental image you have created.
All you care about is that your safe, that his arms are holding you, that his smell is enveloping you.
Youâre sure that if anyone were to look, your eyes would be flashing blue in that unique way they do when your omega is too close to the surface. It has happened before. Sheâs in distress still but biology is letting her take over and all she cares about is her alpha, to keep her alphaâs scent close to-. Not an alpha. Changbin. Changbinâs scent. Changbin, whoâs your friend who just happens to be an alpha.
The bell over the door of the cafe chimes again, Hyunjinâs voice calls for you with a tone so unlike him it forces you away from the farm during nightfall, back to the real world.
Your cheeks are wet but you have no idea when you had started to cry.
Changbin tenses for a moment, as if caught between what his body and what his mind wants, but he puts you down, gently, just in time for your brother to reach you.
Hyunjin holds you closer than any time recent memory can recall. You feel his heart thrumming on his chest.
âIâm okayâ, you donât sound convincing, but he nods.
âYouâre okayâ, he says back. You nod.
None of you fully believe it.
You feel Minhoâs presence behind you, heâs purposefully letting out calming pheromones and you are so grateful for it.
âCome, Iâll take you homeâ, his voice is gentle but commanding.
Hyunjin does not let go of you for a second, going as far as climbing into the backseat, leaving Minho in the front to drive alone. The older looks back at every red light to check on you. Your brother is the one to help with the directions to your place, besides yourself, heâs probably the only one that has the path fully memorised.
Your body feels too warm. You know you are about to hit a peak on your heat but your nervous system is too fried to care.
When you park in front of your building, Hyunjin stays in the car while Minho walks up with you.
You appreciate the silent care, another omega on your space has never been an issue. Your brother wouldnât usually be a bother either, but this time around you would rather play it safe. You donât need to say any of that, though, both man falling into their roles unprompted.
âGo to your room, Iâll make you some food so you can have that in handâ
You nod weekly and goes in.
When you look at your bed, it is already halfway there to a perfect nest. Maybe this time there were signs, after all, you were just too dumb to notice them. You donât dwell on it, instead making your way directly to the shower. There are too many smells clinging to you and itâs slowly building up to a sensory nightmare.
As you start to undress, however, you catch another wave of Changbin on your dress, and think twice before putting it away with the rest of the laundry.
You ride the first wave of your heat in pain, more than anything else. Your body is trying to recover from the chock while also experiencing all types of early heat effects. So you curl on the floor of the shower, switches from the cold water helping with the burn of your skin, to warm water, helping alleviate the stabbing of the cramps.
When you finally make it onto the kitchen again, your phone has been plugged in to charge and Minho had left you enough food prepared for a few days. Thereâs a note stuck on your fridge, his small handwriting letting you know heâd be back on the next day to check on you.
And he does, but you donât really see him, only noticing his presence after he is gone, when food is waiting for you at the counter and water had been left on the other side of your door.
You text him and the others in between waves, letting them know you are okay - even if you are far from it.
Itâs a weird heat. Youâre skittish, anxious, sad, mopey and mostly in pain for the better part of it. The cramps never give you a break. You use your toys but your brain is attached to the whole being chased thing, and the mixed messages confuse your omega. So you are never satisfied, but never really needy either. You just feel like something is missing, most of all.
By the end of it, youâre just glad itâs over and you can forget the whole thing.
· · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
Once the door swings to a close after Minho and Hyunjin leave with you, Changbin feels like he is about to go insane.
He is so angry.
He had managed for a little bit there, when you were pressing your face to him so hard he thought for a second you might merge into him. Move in inside his chest. Live where he could always make sure you were alright.
Youâre out of danger and Minho did the right thing by calling the cops before you even got there, they had seen what happened while it happened, so not a lot of explanation was required on their part - much less from yours.
Changbin kept thinking about how this time it should be different.
The driver had other offences under his name, he would definitely be behind bars for a little while and the cops said theyâd be in touch if they needed any more information from anyone involved.
But it didnât feel like enough.
Changbin had managed a couple of hits before they had the guy pinned down.
Jisung got the short end of the stick by having a lot of strength but zero coordination. At least the black eye got him pity points with Minho immediately.
But Changbin still feels the adrenaline coursing through him.
His alpha is like a trapped animal.
He smells like you. You scented him so thoroughly he canât really move without getting a whiff of apples drenched in syrup.
Hyunjin and Minho are pack, his alpha has never seen either of them as threats. It still took him all of his willpower to let you go with them.
Why couldnât you stay with him?
He would make sure you were safe.
He would cover you in his scent so no other alpha would ever dare to even look your way again.
He would -oh
He is about to go into rut.
It is at least a fortnight too early but the signs are all there.
âDude, you okay?â Jisung asks and Changbin realises he had been quiet for too long. He unclenches his fists.
âI think Iâm going into rutâ
âWhat?â Jisung eyes widen.
âDo you know if Minho has suppressants over anywhere?â
âHis wonât work on youâ
Changbin knows Jisung is right, omega suppressants and alpha suppressants are very different. But heâs about to lose it, he is willing to try anything.
âFuck my lifeâ, Changbin starts pacing back and forth.
He didnât want to go into rut, he couldnât go into rut. What if you needed anything? He needs to be ready, to be available if you need him. If only he could go to your place, only to make sure-
Get a hold of yourself.
âChan has suppressantsâ, Jisung blurts out.
It makes Changbin stops his aimless walking, âwhat?â
âHe has them, Iâve seen him taking it beforeâ, and Jisung is already moving towards the door.
Changbin tries to remain calm, work on his breathing. If he allows his body to overheat it will only speed up the process.
Chan lives nearby, closer than Changbinâs own place.
When Jisung makes it back, Changbin is halfway through becoming a monk with how deep he has been breathing.
âHereâ, the younger hands over the prescription bottle.
Changbin does not bother trying to remember what his recommended dose is. He shakes what looks like enough onto his own hand and throws it back, swallowing without water.
Itâs quiet but he can feel Jisungâs eyes on him.
âThat was intenseâ, his friend breaks the silence.
Maybe itâs a placebo effect, but Changbin can already feel the pills starting to work, his mind becoming more grounded.
âYeahâŠâ
âAre you okay? What was that?â
âI donât know, I think it was the scenting, it drove me over the edgeâ, Changbin can only guess.
âMinho hyung should not have passed her to youâ, and Jisung looks regretful, as if he knows it only happened because he got hurt.
âNo, Iâm glad he did, I think it would drive me mad if he didnâtâ, a truth he had known before.
He studies it in his mind. Even if you were not in heat, even if biology was not pulling him in, he would still feel the need to hold you, to make sure you were not hurt.
âYou like her.â Jisung says it as a statement, not a question, so Changbin doesnât feel like he needs to respond.
âHave they said anything?â Changbin doesnât know where his phone is. He is pretty sure he left it at the gym, after calling Minho to understand what was going on once he read the texts that had been sent to the group chat. He sprinted over as soon as the call disconnected.
âMinho hyung told me they dropped her off, heâs just making her some food while Hyunjin waits in the carâ
âGood, goodâ
The silence stretches.
âDo you feel better?â Jisung is not one to pry, their dynamic is usually one of banter, not heart to heart.
âYeahâ, he doesnât want to elaborate.
âHave you ever taken those before?â Jisung points at the pill bottle.
Changbin nods his head yes but the younger man is waiting for more, so he continues, âwhen I was younger, I donât get many side effects besides my next rut being absolutely miserableâ
âWhy did you take them now?â
Changbin considers lying but ends up giving up, itâs been a long day, heâs tired. Hiding his feelings is too much of a hassle right now and Jisung has already guessed close enough anyway, âin case she needs me, I want to be aroundâ.
âOh you really like herâ
This time Changbin acknowledges it with a nod.
Jisung pats him on the shoulder and fishes his keys out of his pocket.
âLetâs go you big softie, I have to put these back in Chanâs studio before he notices it. Then weâll get some food, my treatâ
And itâs so unlike Jisung that Changbin just follows him out of the cafe on a daze, still wondering if youâll really be alright.
· · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
> a/n | This is the one actually angsty chapter of this fic, promise! Also, I'm having so much fun writing the bickering parts I sometimes lose track of how long the chapters turn out lol
You shouldâve seen this coming, everything always ends up at the cafe.
It smells like home over here. Like friends and family, like cinnamon and spice. Like falling in love with the rest of your life.
> pairing | alpha!changbin x omega!reader
> word count | currently at 35.9k
> genre | a/b/o, friends to lovers, brother's best friend, fluff, smut, romcom vibe, MDNI.
> status | ongoing
> taglist is open
> main masterlist
> warnings |Â a/b/o dynamics, explicit language, explicit and implied sexual content, oral (F and M receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (always remember to wrap it, guys!), ruts and heats, knotting, breeding kink (more tags to be added)
> writer's note | this is my first time writing anything omegaverse so excuse me if it's not too drenched in lore.
> genre | a/b/o, friends to lovers, brother's best friend, fluff, smut, romcom vibe, MDNI.
> chapter warnings |Â a/b/o dynamics, explicit language, implied sexual content, ruts and heats.
> A/N |Â I definitely did not expect I'd be back so soon but I'll be honest this one was so so so fun to write that I blinked and it was done. I hope you all enjoy it!
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01. like an orchard during summer
Your heat was early.
Of course it was, you shouldnât be surprised about it anymore but still. When even was the last time you got it when you were supposed to, anyway? It didnât make it any less embarrassing when you had to run out of class at the first spike of your temperature, your mind catching up on what was going on quick enough, at least. You truly envied other omegas with their regular cycles. Couldnât be you, thought! While every other omega you knew had two to three days of pre-heat to prepare, you had something like two to three hours on a good month.
Thank goodness your scent patches were still fresh, it had not even been two hours that you applied them, so you trusted that they would hold until you made it home. Even so, your eyes were still restless scanning your surroundings, better to be safe than sorry. You attention was torn between every person who came in or out and your phone, where your fingers were working overtime to type out a few e-mails to your professors, putting on your heat leave last minute as usual. The bus was almost at your destination while you send out the last of your messages, only to be remembered of a very crucial detail.
During your last heat, barely a month ago, you made a bargain with your hard-to-please music theory professor, saying that you would make up for an assignment you missed by having the next one worth double what it was supposed to. What that meant was half of your grade riding on it. That assignment. The one you had spent weeks working on, annotating tirelessly by hand during classes, when said professor forbid the use of computers. The one you were showing Jisung right before you had to leave abruptly. The one you had to send in finalized and revised in two days. The one you had left behind.
It was not all lost. You had digital copies of it, you were the smart twin after all. But that one had literally all your notes. It would be a nightmare to go through all that again, specially knowing youâd have to be doing it during your heat. And there was no way you were asking for an extension. You shouldnât even be in that class, for fuckâs sake! It was supposed to be just an easy extra curricular to help you meet people interested in music that you could work with in the future. Damn you and your need to fulfil your childhood dreams!
youÂ
please please please tell me you picked up my notes
jisungÂ
i picked up your notes
youÂ
can you bring them to me when you leave?
His lack of a reply should worry you but your stop is next and youâre eager to get home and hop on the shower, maybe some cold water will help with how you are starting to feel.
The tiny apartment greets you with a wave of stuffy air. It was too damn warm. The building is old and has poor ventilation, with half of your windows being stuck shut with no way to pry them open. The morning sunlight that hits your living room directly, and is usually very much welcomed, now feels like an utmost betrayal.
At least the water on your shower is cold, and you use your hands to scrub off the rest of the scent patches from your neck and wrists, freeing your overly ripe scent. Your usual sweet apples are now mixed with peach, all drenched in sugar. You wonât start cramping for a few hours, and the uncomfortable horny waves would start hitting right after, but for now you just feel your brain a little scattered. Itâs becoming harder for you to keep your attention on a single thing, your skin starting to overheat. When you feel your hand unconsciously slide down the front of your body, you turn the water colder and shake your head, trying to clear your mind.
You still need to figure out the notes problem before your first wave hits, otherwise you would never get it done with. The time had slipped by you and when you finally step out of your bathroom to find your phone, you see that Jisung had finally replied.
jisungÂ
i took your stuff to the cafe but i already left
the guys were all still there tho
iâm off to my parents for the weekend
A curse slips from your lips. You shouldâve seen this one coming, everything always ends up at the cafe. You open the group chat.
youÂ
whoâs at the cafe?
In mere seconds you get a few reactions to your message. Seungmin, Changbin and, of course, Minho, thumbs up your question. Felix also adds a little raised hand emoji. You decide that Minho is your best chance.
youÂ
can you bring me the notes Jisung left there?
minhoÂ
jisung decided to take a break on the busiest week of the year
so
no
youÂ
pleaaaaaase I really need them
minhoÂ
no iâm busy
youÂ
then why are you texting me?
minhoÂ
felix is keeping the clients busy
You knew that was code for âFelix is flirting with the clienteleâ. Fair enough, onto the next one.
youÂ
hiiiiiii
seungminÂ
no
youÂ
i didnât even ask yet
seungminÂ
you know i was at the same class as you, right?
youÂ
please min Iâm running out of omegas to ask
seungminÂ
1- i have the same paper as you to hand in
2- just stop being stubborn and just ask for an extension
3- you live too far away
You know thatâs another dead end. You consider texting Felix, but heâs much closer to your brother than to you, and to ask him a favor like this seems weird for your dynamic. Changbin, however, has a car - and you knew Jeongin was taking care of the gym during the afternoon, so he was probably free. You guess they were all probably communicating in real life because you donât go any further than a inconspicuous âhiâ before heâs saying no.
youÂ
whyyyyyyy?
changbinÂ
iâm literally an alpha this is a terrible idea.
youÂ
please binnie youâre my last resort
changbinÂ
no dude iâm serious
youÂ
so am i
i canât fail this class
He takes a minute to reply, you grow restless. You know the first wave would hit any minute now, can already feel a slight ache on your back, the tiniest cramps taking root. Your mind focusing on that one word. Alpha, alpha, alpha. Maybe he was right.
changbinÂ
iâll ask felix to drop it off
youÂ
yeah that works thank you
Youâre not even sure you typed it right, hitting send before jumping straight into the comfort of your bed, already halfway to a nest. Fully naked and feeling as ready as possible to ride out the next few days with the company of your toys. Hopefully this heat wonât be too bad and youâll have moments of clear headedness to work on your paper.
· · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
Changbin is waiting for Felix to get back to his car.
The younger man was a bit offended that you didnât ask him straight away. It also ticked Changbin as a little weird. He thought you were close to the dancer, specially considering how attached Felix always was to your brother. But people could say the same about him, considering he literally lived with Hyunjin, so you probably just texted whoeverâs name came first on your contact list.
Felix was taking longer than he expected, though.
Changbin had offered to drive him. He had the afternoon off anyway and could tell that Minho was growing annoyed by their antics at the cafe. Usually their hyung didnât mind that they hung out there, even if they were not really ordering anything. But it was unusually busy and, besides Seungmin, who had spent the last few hours with his nose stuck in a book, Felix and Changbin could become quite loud and were probably toying with their luck by remaining there while Minho was clearly overworked.
And he didnât mind waiting in the car. Besides the obvious point of Felix being a beta - a much safer choice to go closer to an omega in heat than himself, Chan had also sent him some songs he had been working on and wanted Changbinâs opinion about. It was the perfect use of his time (and of his carâs sound system).
So his mind was far away, hands tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the music, when Felix opened the passenger door and slid in. The blond boy looked okay, distracted if a little winded.
âWere you wearing that before?â Changbin starts the car as he asks. He was sure Felix had something blue on, and now he is in a short sleeve white t-shirt.
âNopeâ, the younger reaches for the radio, switching back the connection to his own phone so he could choose the music. Changbin doesnât mind.
âThen whatâŠ?â, he drifts off, focusing on the road, the turns near your place were quite confusing, he often got lost.
âShe needed my hoodieâ
âWhy did she need your hoodie?â
âHyung, seriously?â Felix voice is humorous. When Changbin remains clueless, he continues, âsheâs an omega. In heat. She asked. We donât question such things, I just handed the hoodie over.â
Changbin canât help the small tug of jealousy. Alpha instincts, of course, but still annoying.
Felix had a nice scent and all, something akin to almond cookies, freshly baked oats. But he was still a beta and his smell was not even that strong. The older man canât help but lean closer, try and get a sniff, maybe his friend was smelling particularly good today, thatâs why you asked him and not one of the alphas of the group. Felix scent patches shouldâve worn out by now, after the morning of dance practices he just had, much like Changbinâs did, hours ago, after an intense work out.
What Changbin gets, however, is none of Felixâs usual faint nutty scent. What he gets are apples and peaches and oranges, the whole orchard encompassed, ripe fruits at the beginning of summer, a spoon of sugar to enhance the taste.
Felix smells like you.
Damn, he smells so much like you.
Changbin tightens his hold on the steering wheel and drives the rest of the way home in silence.
· · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
You open the door of the cafe like a hurricane. Not unusual, but still far from an everyday occurrence.
Itâs the middle of the week and the place is empty, save for the usual suspects.
Minho is behind the register, tablet in hand, probably not doing any real work considering Jisung is also there. The younger boy seems to be making something, probably finishing off whatever it is that Felix, standing in front of him, had ordered. On the only occupied table sits Chan, not even looking up from the computer when you make your dramatic entrance.
âGuess who passed all their exams?â You smile brightly, even if no one is paying you much attention.
âJeonginâ, Chan deadpans from his place, still not lifting his eyes from the screen.
You point at him like an old school game show tv presenter, âtry again!â
âSeungminâ, he guesses next, this time sneaking a look up at you before returning to his work.
You take a second to consider that, âI mean, probably?â
It sounds like a question but your fairly certain that he did. You didnât really check anyoneâs grades but yours.
âYou know I have other customers, right?â Minho puts his tablet down and looks over to Jisung, pointing where the boy should move next to finish the latte.
Felix, in front of them both, stares at Minho and pointedly looks around to the rest of the people at the cafe - your closest friends.
âOk not right now, but they do exist!â Minho concedes.
âIâll believe it when I see itâ, you still hear the dancer murmur as you turn your back in favor of annoying Chan.
You sit right beside him, ââwhatâchu doing?â
âWorkingâ
âOn what?â you try to get closer, take a look at his screen.
âMusicâ
âOh wow so intriguing thank you for the reverting conversationâ, you rest your chin on your hand.
âDonât you have anything better to do?â heâs still not even looking at you.
You move closer, dangerously invading his personal space, popping your lips when you say it, âNope!â
The door swings open again to reveal Changbin, Jeongin and Hyunjin, all sweaty and in their usual work out clothes.
âCongrats noona!â Jeongin says unprompted the minute his eyes land on you.
You beam at the younger boy, âSee? Someone appreciates my effortsâ
âDid you pass?â Hyunjin asks, moving to stand closer to Felix near the counter, signalling to the drink that has just been handed to him.
âYes I didâ, you smile brightly, sincere even if your brother is no longer really looking at you.
âDamn there goes my chance of becoming momâs favoriteâ
âIn you dreams, babyyyyyâ, you exaggerate the word, knowing it bugs him.
âCan you write my paper then?â Jisung pipes in from behind the counter.
âYou know it was due last week, right?â
âThe professor loves meâ, he gloats and you try to not get too annoyed at that. That same professor took a disliking to you from the get go.
âHan was helping me with something, I got him an extensionâ, Chan adds, finally looking up to pay attention.
You look between the two. Chan had graduated years ago, before either of you even entered the post-grad program. How he remained close with so many people on the faculty always baffled you.
âThatâs not fairâ
âFind yourself an internship then, princessâ, Jisung winks at you and you have to fight the urge to escalate your complaining. You were usually very good friends but for some reason, whenever the two of you were at the cafe, he was either ignoring you or antagonising you.
You decide itâs not worth the fight, instead turning to your producer friend again, leaning closer.
âChan?â you bat your eyelashes at him. Chan could definitely use some extra help at the studio.
He leans in too, close enough that you even get a whiff of his fresh linen scent. Itâs later in the day, who knows how long since he put on his patches? Long enough that itâs wearing off, and you know he uses the really good expensive ones, like Changbin and Seungmin. He rests his own head on his hand, even goes as far as betting his eyelashes and wetting his lips.
You recognise heâs mimicking your previous antics just as he says it, ânopeâ.
There is no time to react, though.
âActuallyâ, Changbin pipes in, âI might have something for youâ
That catches your attention. You know that Changbin used to produce with Chan, thatâs how they became close. Or at least thatâs what you heard, it was long before you all started hanging out. Chan just dragged him to the cafe one day and the rest was history.
âAre you working at the studio again?â Felix is the one to ask.
âYeah, a little bit now that the gym is stable. It kinda left me with some extra times to get back into thatâ
âHe means now that I work there he has time while I slave awayâ, Jeongin adds.
Changbin ignores him, turns to you again, âyou play guitar, right?â
âAmongst other things, yesâ
âDo you think you can take a look at a track for me? Jisung is too rocky for what I needâ
âWhat do you mean Iâm too rocky, I- OUCHâ Jisung burns himself.
âPay attentionâ, Minho scolds, already directing the younger manâs hand towards the open faucet.
âI honestly donât know why you hired himâ, your brother directs it at Minho when he finally gets his drink, the same one Felix had gotten.
âHeâs cute, I like looking at his faceâ, Minho replies straight away and you see how Jisung blushes.
Huh, you should ask someone about that later.
âAnyway, do you think you can meet me at the studio next week?â Changbin gets back on track as if nothing has happened.
âMy studio?â Chan asks, appalled, âI donât want her at my studioâ
âFirst of all Iâm a delight to have aroundâ, you twirl your hair with your fingers, âand second of all-â
Before you can continue, Hyunjin pulls the empty chair beside you, takes the seat for himself.
âSecond of all Iâve bee trying to get rid of her since the day I learned how to talk, good luck trying to get her to stay out of somethingâ, he sounds bored but you know he is saying it in good humor. And it doesnât make him any less right, either.
âLove you tooâ, you say sarcastically, playing along.
His response comes almost rehearsed, well repeated throughout the years, âmum found you in a dumpsterâ.
· · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
Changbin has been feeling weird all day.
It started with his usual coffee at home before leaving, it tasted too bitter even though he did it just the same as every other morning. Then it was Hyunjin taking too long to shower, making them both a little bit late. Changbin couldnât stay still while he waited, pacing back and forth across their shared living room. The younger at least apologized, but was still applying his own blockers on the way out, making his scent linger in the corridor of the building. Annoying Changbin further.
He didnât mind, most of the time. Truly. Over the years he started seeing the man as pack, just like with Chan. To have another alpha share his space was not that big of a deal. But every now and then he could feel a little extra anxious energy over it. Maybe they were getting close to the full moon, he was always sensitive about that.
Itâs the middle of the day and it hasnât gotten any better, though.
He had already finished all his appointments for the morning, oversaw the switch in personal trainers working, made sure the rooms upstairs had been cleaned and did his own workout session. So now he was locked away in the backroom, taking care of some unavoidable paperwork.
But he just canât keep his attention on the letters across the page. Heâs so focused in trying to stay focused though, that he doesnât listen the first time his friend calls his name.
Hyunjin has to knock on the open door to get his attention, and Changbin finally acknowledges him with a quick look up.
âHey dude, are you going straight home later?â
Felix and Hyunjin had been renting one of the upstair studios at the gym for years now. It started right after Minho introduced them to him, one of those times Chan dragged him to the cafe. The dancers had just finished their undergrad and were looking for a place to work, hoping to start their own dance academy. Changbin had opened the gym not that long before and was still having a hard time filling up all the space and time available. He had already hired some people, but could use with more help.
One thing led to another and now, besides himself and his sister - who sometimes used the gym for her pilates classes, Hyunjin and Felix were the ones that held the keys to the place. Well, them and Jeongin, although the younger was just a part-time worker for now. Friend-group perks (or, as Felix usually says, friend-group nepotism).
Not long after that, Hyunjin was evicted from his shitty apartment and had to find somewhere else to live in a hurry. Moving in with you was not an option, apparently, so Changbin offered his own place for the younger to crash for a little bit. That had been over a year ago. Hyunjin still didnât pay rent - but did most of the grocery shopping, so Changbin considered them even. Itâs not like he needed the money, anyway.
Changbin is still lost in thought when the question registers, so he just nods, trying to bring his wandering mind back to the letters in front of him. The words keep blurring together and everything looks the same.
âSo can Felix and I take the studio for a few extra hours?â Hyunjin asks. Changbin did hear him, really. But the schedule was right there on the wall, surely his friend was not that dumb as to not have checked? He had the damn keys, as long as no one was using it he could do whatever he wanted with the space.
âYeah, yeah, sureâ, Changbin replies absentmindedly, instead of saying what he was truly thinking. Were there usually this many words on a single paper?
Hyunjin can tell the second his hyung is no longer listening.
âAnd can I order some food on the company card?â
Changbin has stopped paying attention entirely, so he just makes a non comital hmmm and leaves it at that.
Hyunjin takes every opportunity he gets.
âAnd can I borrow your car later?â
That makes Changbin look, annoyed, âno, the fuck?â
âDude what is wrong with you?â
âI donât know, I think Iâm near my rutâ, it downs on him as he says it.
He had lifted a lot more than usual that morning and it didnât even phase him. And if Hyunjinâs light scent after his shower that morning had annoyed him a little bit, now that his friend had sweated away his blockers it was really getting under his nerves. And they were in opposite sides of the room.
Hyunjin is clearly taken aback. Changbin canât blame him. Amongst their friends, Changbin was the most reliable when it came to having awareness about his own cycle. Not once had he not warned everyone, sometimes weeks in advance, that he would be off for a few days because of his rut. And this time it was a little over ten days before schedule, nothing to worry about health-wise, but still weird.
âOh, okay, Iâll make you some food prep later and talk to Felixâ, Hyunjin was kind enough not to mention how early it was, though.
Changbin usually took care of that himself. No matter if he was spending his ruts alone or with someone else, heâd meal prep a little bit, schedule some food and water deliveries, let Hyunjin know with enough advance so that his friend could find some place else to stay for a few days. He prided himself in taking good care of his body and of his alpha. Hyunjin was usually the one who needed the extra attention. Even if the younger usually spent his ruts with someone else, casual or not, it would usually lend on Changbinâs shoulders to figure out the rest. To switch the dynamic like this was also throwing him off.
âWill you have anyone over?â Hyunjin asks again, when Changbin had gone quiet for a bit too long.
âNah, not this timeâ, Changbin waves him off. He didnât like to spend his ruts with a random person from a hook up app like some of his friends. Nothing wrong with that, but he knew he could be a little intense when he allowed his alpha to take control like that and he had not been seeing anyone for long enough to feel comfortable lately.
âDo you want me to close up here, then?â Hyunjin offers and, once again, Changbin is grateful.
âYeah, thanks man, I might leave a bit earlyâ, he sighs, knowing he wonât get any more work done today, âIâll text Jeongin to see if he can pick up some extra hours this weekâ.
âI donât think he can, my sister said theyâd be studying together before oh-â Hyunjin pauses mid leaving the room, âwere you not meeting her at the studio tomorrow?â
âFuck me,â he massages the crease forming on the center of his forehead away, he canât believe it slipped his mind like that, âIâll text her tooâ.
He had been excited about it. It had been a while since he last wrote anything he liked and hanging out with you was always fun, he had been anticipating the studio time all week. Him forgetting about the whole thing today was just another proof of how off he was.
Hyunjin leaves to figure out the new schedule without Changbin while the older starts packing his stuff. He opens your contact first to let you know youâd have to postpone your studio trial.
You have changed your profile picture.
The new one showed you at the cafe and, just based on the filter of the photo, it was probably taken with Minhoâs camera. The two of you had a weird friendship, his hyung seemed to like you more than most people, and tolerate you better than literally anyone in your little group. Good thing he was clearly interested in Jisung -Â wait, what?
It didnât matter who Minho was interested in. Or you. Oh my goddess his rut was turning him into a knot-head. It was definitely time to head home.
· · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
You are doing laundry when you get Changbinâs text.
Thereâs no denying your disappointment. There were only a couple practical music classes in your curriculum - and you were doing miserably in all of them. Mostly due to a lack of practice, itâs been a minute since you could dedicate your time to playing any of the instruments you said you loved so much. Your under-grad path led you more towards a behind-the-scenes type of work. You wanted to be the person who put events and festivals together, who helped artists achieve what they were longing for, who bridged the way between art and the people that needed said art the most.
But you couldnât help but long for the times you were the one creating something.
Hyunjin followed that path already though, and you couldnât afford two artists in one family, it would be too much on your poor parentâs hearts. So you played it safe. Still close to music, but never solely depending on it.
You missed playing though, and you had been wanting to sneak into Chanâs studio for forever. So you text Changbin back saying that you might pop into the studio anyway, even if just to annoy your older friend.
And then you text Jisung.
youÂ
what time are you going to the studio tomorrow again?
jisungÂ
around 4ish, i have class until 3
when r u and hyung going?
youÂ
soooooo
thatâs the thing
changbinâs not coming anymore
jisungÂ
what did you do?
youÂ
why do you think i did anything??
He doesnât reply.
youÂ
ok this time itâs not my fault
he got his rut
but i still wanna go to the studio
jisungÂ
isnât that too soon for him?
youÂ
idk dude its not like I keep track
A lie. You absolutely kept track. And it was a liiiiitle bit too early for his rut. You donât think about the fact that Jisung also kept track, your little friend group was weirdly attuned to each otherâs lives. Jisung is taking too long to reply.
youÂ
so can you get me in?
jisungÂ
no
i donât wanna get in trouble with Chan
youÂ
heâs not your dad jisung
jisungÂ
ok then tell him that yourself
youÂ
pleeeeeease I promise to behave
jisungÂ
doubt that
Youâre still thinking how to convince him when he texts you back.
jisungÂ
iâll let you in if you bring me coffee
youÂ
dude you literally work at the cafe
jisungÂ
so?
youÂ
donât you get all the free coffee you want?
jisungÂ
what gave you that idea?
Maybe the fact that Minho definitely likes Jisung and would never made him pay for coffee - or anything else, probably. You shouldnât tell him that, though.
youÂ
well, donât you?
jisungÂ
yes but itâs the principle of the thing.
You roll your eyes and donât reply. He knows you will get it. He doesnât need to know youâll absolutely tell Minho that itâs for Jisung. To test your theory that Minho wonât charge you for it.
Changbin never replies either, which is weird but you know how alphas can get during their ruts, so you pour some metaphorical water over yourself and try to not feel too bothered by his disregard.
The washing machine is almost full, you reach for the final piece of clothing youâve been avoiding dealing with.
Felixâs hoodie.
You said youâd give it back this week, the clothing overextending its stay at your place. So you need to wash it. It only smelled like you now, way too sweet. But you still think about how you buried your nose in it through the roughest parts of your heat, dazed and in pain, only to get a whiff of Felixâs baked almonds blended with Changbinâs mix of spices. Felixâs had always been muted, just a note. But Changbinâs was so intense, the strong cinnamon, the hit of cardamom, the sprinkle of black pepper. It kept your entire sanity in place and you held it accountable for how clear minded you felt in between your heat waves. Enough to finish up you paper and hand it in time.
You knew it was all biology. Your body was yearning for an alpha and then your body smelled an alpha.
But you never had such a reaction before.
Well, too bad. The hoodie smelled like nothing now.
So even if your omega still despises the idea, you throw in the piece of clothing in the wash.
· · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
So there was a loop hole for getting free coffee, you just needed to tell Minho you were grabbing something for Jisung. You walked into the studio victorious, proudly relaying your finds to the two alphas already waiting for you there.
None of them were impressed.
You are having fun nonetheless.
They were both working on different things, but together, bouncing ideas off of each other. Changbin had not sent you his own track to work on, even after all the back and forth you did about it the past few days via text. So youâre just trying to make yourself useful to the other two. Chan, as annoyed as he seemed when he first figured out you were there to stay and not only to drop Jisung his coffee like the younger one said, seemed to be okay with having you there now.
You even helped him with the strings for a song! It was still barely a demo, but you were proud of it anyway. The piece was elaborate and you couldnât wait to see where Chan would take it. And then you helped Jisung with grammar on a different song, trying to find words long or short enough to fit the rhythm he had built before.
Maybe if you kept making yourself useful Chan would also offer you a job. Not that you were desperate for it, but it would still be sweet to have an income other than the financial aid from the university and the odd project with a too-small-to-matter musician. Chan could be your too-small-musician. You were sure you could make him matter.
He could probably use with an assistant anyway, the guy was always doing too much.
You had probably been staring off into the distance for too long when Jisung pokes Chan and you follow the movement, seeing the youngest look up from his phone.
âDo you think you can pass by Binâs later?â
âNo, why?â Chan replies, as always not looking away from his monitor.
âIf you already said no, why are you asking?â
Chan just stares at him, blank faced.
âHe forgot his charger here and Hyunjinâs donât work on his phoneâ, Jisung clarifies, turning his phone so Chan can read through the messages.
âIsnât he busy with other things?â you ask, hinting at Changbinâs current state.
Jisung swerves the wheels of his chair towards you, a swift but still dramatic motion.
âSweet summer childâ, he starts, âhow do you think one gets through a rut without someone there to help them?â
You stare at him, probably a similar expression to what Chan just had on, but your blank face was one out of genuine confusion. They probably used toys, right? Was that too weird to imagine? Itâs what most omegas did, anyway. But you had never talked about it with any alpha, really, and itâs not like the ones around you were usually unaccompanied during their own cycles for you to even think to ask before.
Chan is the one to give you an answer, âporn, baby, we watch a lot of porn.â
Oh.
You blush.
Jisung laughs out loud. Your scent probably gave it away that you got embarrassed, it had been a long day and you are definitely not using patches as good as theirs. You can smell the mango on yourself, the note that only really made itself known when you had your ears turning red too - a knowledge you wished your brother had kept to himself instead of sharing with the whole group, who sometimes made it into a competition to make your scent flare that way. You are desperate to change the subject.
Jisung doesnât seem keen on making it worse though, for once, âI can go but my shift at the cafe started like ten minutes ago and poor dude is almost all out of batteryâ.
Chan takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a second, pinches the bridge of his nose.
âWhy canât he take his laptop home with him like a normal person? I really didnât want to leave before I finish this but-â
âI can goâ, you cut him off. This could be your chance to be helpful, prove you can help Chan lower the load he carries, show off your manager potential.
âNo.â they both say in unison.
âWhat, why?â you look between the two.
Jisung says your name like you are a child, âhave you forgotten you are an omega?â
âSo?â
âHeâs an alpha in rut, there is no way youâre going near him, thatâs basic common sense. I know you donât have much of that but-â
âHe wonât do anything to meâ, you stop him from actually starting to irritate you, âbesides, thatâs such an outdated mindset, since when are we not helping our friends based on such a trivial thing as our secondary genders?â
And then you bite your tongue because, truth be told, you wouldnât offer that to anyone else, safe for your brother, maybe. You had your fair share of bad experiences with alphas, just like most omegas you knew. You could see both Jisung and Chan considering though, so you double down.
âDude, itâs Changbin, he couldnât hurt a fly if he wanted toâ
âAre we talking about the same Changbin?â Jisung says, âa little short, very loud voice, can probably lift both of us together with a single arm?â
Could he really? He probably could, right? You take a bit too long to reply, lost with the image of Changbinâs arms, trying to do the quick math of how much he would have to lift to be able to hold both you and the mouthy friend in front of you up. You eventually remember the conversation.
âI kinda want to prove him a pointâ, is your weak reply, thinking about a few weeks back, when you asked a similar favor off of him.
âWhat point? That you are crazy and lacks a sense of self preservation? I think weâre all on the same page about that alreadyâ
âJust let her goâ, itâs Chanâs turn to interrupt.
Jisung turns towards his friend a bit too quickly, âare you serious?â
Chan shrugs his shoulders, âsheâs right, itâs Bin, he wonât do anythingâ
You smile triumphantly at Jisung. Again. This was turning out to be a great day.
âItâs only the first day anyway, his ruts are usually pretty chill, itâll be fineâ, Chan adds, already turning towards his monitor again.
You pick up Changbinâs charger from Jisung and lifts it like a trophy. Before closing the door you stick your tongue out towards him too, when Chan canât see it. You feel a bit childish but you know it gets on his nerves so why stop?
When you close the door you can hear him whining, saying something about Chan handling Hyunjin if he ever found out. Nooooot your problem - and it wouldnât be your brotherâs either.
Changbin lives nearby, just a few blocks from Chanâs apartment-turned-studio. It was all fairly close to the gym and the cafe as well, all kept apart by no longer than a five minute walk. You have the path memorised from the many trips there to annoy your brother. Thank goodness Changbin had always been a good sport about your uninvited appearances. You lived way too far away from anyone else, when you needed to kill some time and the cafe was too busy, you saw no reason to not go over.
Hyunjin was crashing at Jeonginâs for a few days. Most apartments nowadays are pretty well isolated for heats and ruts, specially a fancy place like Changbinâs. But his home was also supposed to only have a guest bedroom besides Changbinâs own room, key word being guest, so although it was not terrible on a daily basis, it was not as good as a more permanent place would be. So Hyunjin usually just came by to drop some necessities but stayed out of the place for most of it.
And you can understand why. The elevator opens into a very small hallway-like area, only Changbinâs front door on the entire floor. And it already smells like him.
The cinnamon hits you so hard you feel a little dazed. Itâs mixed with cardamom and clover, as usual, but it also has the traces of black pepper that make your nose begin to itch, your throat to go dry. The barely-there trace of ginger. Changbin has the type of scent that feels cozy to you most days, reminds you of some place with low light, warm, inviting. Only this time it also felt sensual, alluring. You have to take a second to find your wits again.
You had texted him that you were coming over but, like your previous text, it had gone unanswered. Jisung, however, had texted you, telling you to just leave the charger by the door and head back. But how would Changbin know it was there if he had ran out of battery before getting any other texts himself?
So you knock.
And when you donât get a reply, you call out to him. A few times.
âChangbin?â you still donât hear anything, so you press your ear to the door and focuses, âIâm leaving your charger here, you there?â
Faintly you can hear something. Maybe. Some breathing?
You press against the door a little harder.
And then you hear something. Very clearly. Not a shadow of a doubt about what the sound is. You hear him moan.
You panic as the blood rushes back to your face, warm enough that for a second youâre scared of it boiling to the point of melting your skin. You step away from the door as if it burned you.
The charger is left right in front of the door, more dropping out of your hand than being let down gently, you try to keep your voice steady.
âhey-Iâm-leaving-your-charger-here-good-luck-see-you-next-weekâ and youâre inside the elevator before the doorknob even threatens to turn.
· · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
At first, Changbin thinks he is imagining your voice.
He is not too bad yet, his head is clear enough and he had been texting his friends just fine. But his phone had finally died and Jisung had not replied to his latest message yet the last time he checked it.
He had tried every single charger he could find already. His patience was already wearing thin and he was trying to stay calm enough to figure out how he was supposed to order food for the next few days if he didnât have a phone.
Going out for one now was no longer a possibility. He had been half hard for an hour already, and was doing his damn best to not give into what his body, his alpha, was asking of him. Once he started there was no going back.
So now, alone with his thoughts, battling his inner demons (aka his inner wolf), it didnât come as a surprise when it was your voice that his brain conjured.
You are an omega. A pretty omega. Of course he had noticed. It didnât make you any less off limits.
But then, was that not part of the appeal too?
Over the past few days he had been texting you more and more, first it was just to send you references for the type of sound he would want for his song, but then those messages started to feel like just an excuse to talk to you.
Whenever you bumped into each other at the cafe, which was often enough, he could feel himself leaning a bit too closely, trying to get just a little bit of your scent, maybe leaving some of his behind. It was unfair that, most days, he had already sweated through his blockers and yours were still fresh. He would give anything to have even just a little bit of you to cling onto.
He is trying not to overthink those urges. His rut was early, so the symptoms started before he could catch them. It would not be the first time he started to feel so strongly about an omega near him when his rut approached. Never mind that it hadnât happened since he was a teenager. He could still write it off as just instincts.
The delirium of his rut is starting to get so strong he can almost catch your scent. Apples, at first, but then all the other fruits that usually surround you. Most of your friends only get that, but to him you smelled like staying on the countryside during the summertime. Fresh and fruity and sweet.
He really hoped Jisung didnât give you too much trouble at the studio. Where he knew you were with his younger friend. His younger friend who was an alpha. And where both of you would be with Chan. His other alpha friend. Who Changbin was pretty sure was also his pack alpha, as far as his inner wolf was concerned. So he shouldnât feel jealous. He is not jealous. His wolf might be, a little bit, but he is completely normal about it.
No regrets at all about threatening Jisung into letting you in.
He hears a knock at the door, your voice calling his name.
You are calling his name.
His brain is going too far. He canât avoid it any longer, he lets his head fall back on his sofa, a hand reaching down into his pants. He needs some relief.
Itâs instantaneous.
Changbinâs barely starting to get into it, eyes closed, hands still at a slow pace, when he hears it again.
But this time heâs not that sure heâs imagining it.
Itâs muffled, he barely makes out the words, his mind already far, far away.
Youâre leaving his charger there? Something about good luck?
He sprints towards the sound, his body reacting before his mind could. Itâs only on that last second that he finds his control again, slowing down, taking a breath, leaning his forehead against the closed door.
Your smell is unbearable.
It takes him all his might to not pull the door right out of its hinges. But instead he waits, listens for your steps carrying you away. Youâre in a rush, he canât really blame you. Who thought it was a good idea to send you of all people? He hears the elevator door closing but still waits a full minute before braving the entrance.
He looks down to see his charger on the floor.
His damn charger and your scent, taking over the entire hallway.
It smells like you, but sweeter.
It smells like you, he thinks, but aroused.
He is such an asshole. A huge knot-head, letting his hormones get the best of him.
Changbin steps back into his home, throws the charger wherever, tries not to dwell on the fact that for the next couple of days, every time he closes his eyes, the only image he is able to summon is of you.
· · â ·â¶Â· â · ·
> a/n | I beg of you to not look too closely at what season it should be, if it should be warm or cold out, or even at what time of the day something is happening. Just assume every day could go from warm to freezing, everyone is bi and every place has random working hours. When revising I started overthinking all that and just gave up eventually, so enjoy it for what it is, pleaseeeeee!!! (can you tell i needed a break from that after basing an entire fic after the changing of the seasons? lol).
could I interest anyoneâŠâŠ..in a little WIPâŠâŠ?
I know I know I said Iâd give you a couple of options for what Iâm currently working on but then I hyper focused on a piece and now itâs almost done (and way longer than I intended it to be so thereâs that). Sooooo, instead of splitting my attention between multiple works, Iâm putting all my free time into this one to have it out in the world as soon as possible.
Anyway itâs a/b/o.
A friend asked me to write it and I am nothing if not a people pleaser at heart, but I have never tried writing omegaverse so donât come for me if itâs not the best. I had way too much fun with it and wanted to try something light for once đ«
It will be omega!reader x alpha!changbin.
A little bit friends to lovers, a little bit idiots in love, a little bit brotherâs best friend.
> genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut, pregnancy, the tiniest bit of angst
> warnings |Â none, besides this being the end, MDNI.
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20. epilogue. spring again
There was a lot to celebrate.
Stray Kids had just completed another year together. Over the past few months, 3Racha had their debut as a unit, all of the members took some time off to work on side projects or just relax and do nothing for once in their life. Relationships had started and ended, but thatâs a completely different story. Miseol grew strong and healthy and was reaching all her milestones in stride. Minho had joined the group back to release a special song as a thank you to Stay and also perform e few special concerts to mark their anniversary.
The reception to his family news was mixed at first but, as time went by, with the continued support of the rest of the group, fans slowly but surely weaned out the bad people. Now fans would always ask him about Miseol under Minhoâs posts, calling her Bun too as the nickname was accidentally shared by a - very regretful - Jeongin. You were not the happiest about it but, as long as her true name and face were kept from the public until she could have the discernment to make those decisions for herself, you were okay.
As for you, you were starting to feel restless at home, and had started working on some side projects whenever you had the time. Your own friends at your company had kept you updated on your old teamâs ups and downs, your presence being greatly missed. You would go back, eventually, but maybe just as a stepping stone for a possible career change. Something you could maybe have more autonomy and not feel so drained all the time. You had different priorities now in terms of where to spend your energy.
âYou ready?â Minho calls for you, Miseol already on his arms, hands reaching out trying to snatch the sunglasses he has pushing his hair back.
They were doing a small get together at Chanâs and Jeonginâs place. Just the members and significant others - when applied. Chan had recently found himself single but Jisung was finally bringing his girlfriend for everyone to properly meet - having the dorm for himself really did wonders for his love life. Their place had a nice balcony and Minho suggesting getting a grill out to enjoy the sunshine. You had spent the better part of the last hour convincing him Miseol had enough sunscreen on to handle being outside for a little bit.
He had gotten better at driving with her in the backseat though, behaving like a sane person again and not driving you insane with his slow pace. You took turns meddling with the radio, discussing where to start food prepping when you got there, sharing gossip you got recently from your own little pockets of friends. It was comfortable, like life had always meant to be like that.
Hyunjin was on the underground parking lot with Changbin when you pulled over. They were bringing coolers with some stuff Chan had forgotten to order. When Hyunjin spotted your car, however, he dropped the heavy box he was helping Changbin unload immediately, to the older memberâs displeased murmurs.
âHi pretty girl!â he had his arms open wide, ready for Miseol as he approached. You free her from her car seat but she hides her little face on your neck when she sees the man coming towards her.
Miseol was generally a happy giggly baby, but she was very fussy about who could hold her - to Minhoâs delight.
There was no point discussing for so long who the favorite uncle would be, that decision landed completely on her tiny hands, and she had a very strong opinion about it.
âAigoo, whoâs here?â Jeongin steps out from the elevator nearer to the cars.
The change to Miseol is immediate. She lifts her head away from you, searching for his voice. When she finds him, her arms extend to reach him, smile already gracing her features as you allow the younger member to take her from you. He babbles to her and she giggles in response, Hyunjinâs shoulders drop down in defeat.
âYouâd think heâd be used to that by nowâ, Minho joins you, carrying Miseolâs bag with him.
âI still think itâs a bit unfair but even I got over itâ, Changbin adds, after finally getting the help he needed unloading the cooler.
Jeongin doesnât even look back as he starts for the elevator, your daughter completely unfazed by your distance too. You try not to feel hurt at that and do a better job at it then Minho.
âAre you sure he didnât talk to the bump while you were not looking?â your boyfriend asks you, but starts to follow the other members nonetheless.
âAbsolutelyâ, you nod emphatically, âmaybe thatâs exactly why she likes him best, less of a fussâ.
It was funny, from the moment the members were first able to visit and meet your daughter, her attention seemed to gravitate to the maknae. When she started to be able to hold her focus, when she started to interact with the world around her, he was the one that would get her grabby hands. It was ironic, considering how much of a distance he kept from your pregnant belly, but your baby knew who she wanted to reach for and the favoritism still remained. Chan and Felix were the other members she was comfortable with, most of the time. The rest were a roll of dice.
âIt doesnât count if she canât speak yet, for all we know this is her great scheme into inheriting INâs expensive clothesâ, Changbin is voicing as you all step out of the elevator and into the apartment, already bustling with life with everyone else that was invited.
The attention turns to your arriving party at once, with everyone else slowly approaching to say their hellos and try to catch Miseolâs eye. Jihye stepped out victorious, with your daughter accepting her offer of outstretched hands, hopping from Jeonginâs embrace to hers.
It was organized chaos, some were busy in the kitchen while other remained at the balcony. Chan was already looking blushed with a beer in hand, Changbin quick to join him. Hyunjin did his best helping out Minho with the food, while you took turns between everyone, trying to coordinate who should be doing what. Miseol sometimes made her way back to your embrace, but you looked around and realized that everyone present held your trust with your little girl. A relief and something you were very much grateful for. So you allowed yourself to relax.
Food was served and drinks of all kinds went around. Sunscreen was reapplied and sunglasses were stolen. Laughter filled the air, mixed with non stop music ranging between the tastes of everyone present. Photos were taken and shared, some with glimpses of Miseolâs back as the boys held onto her, the reception online positive with the new set of âboyfriend picturesâ, as Stay called them. The afternoon turned into evening, the day lasting longer but not forever.
Miseol had long ago fallen asleep, tucked on a corner of the sofa where you could keep an eye on her while still hanging out with your friends. No one really wanted to leave. Why should your time together end when you were having such fun?
You stepped in for a second, only to find Minho already with your daughter. You approached them gently, he was adjusting a few pillows around her and you tapped his butt to let your presence be known. He finishes his action before turning to you, arms wrapping around your waist, a peck on your lips that tasted like orange juice.
âWe should probably head out soonâ, he says.
You hide your face on his chest but nods your agreement. You donât really want to go but it was growing late.
âIf we leave the rest of them will start heading out too, we should help cleanâ, you murmur, not wanting to leave the two guys with all the work.
âI already cooked most of the food, they can handle itâ, he tickles you lightly and you wiggle to avoid it, containing your laugh as to not wake your baby.
âShe will cry if we try to take her nowâ, you reason again.
âIâll send Jeongin in thenâ, is his alternative.
âWe should probably wait to make sure no one needs a drive though, I think-â you stop when you see his expression, amused with a glint of humor.
âJust say you donât want to leave yetâ, he tickles you again, you yelp and your baby stirs. You lightly hit his chest in reprimend.
âI donât want to leave yetâ, you roll your eyes.
He chuckles, kisses you again, makes his way out first while shaking his head. He knows you too well.
Miseol stirs a bit more but doesnât wake up. You readjust the same pillows Minho had just arranged, just to do something with your hands, to allow yourself to take her in, to appreciate that sheâs here and happy and safe. To appreciate the man you had loved all your life. To appreciate your friends, your family.
When you rejoin the group you take a second by the door, just watching everyone.
You donât remember the last time you felt lonely.
> a/n | So this is it, the end. How is everyone feeling? I started to write this fic around November of last year so itâs been quite a journey, Iâm usually a fast writer so I had my ups and downs when the story started to drag me to a much fluffier path than I had anticipated, it was quite a challenge - but one Iâm very grateful for. Most of all, Iâm so so so thankful for your support over here and on AO3, Iâm not the best at staying online but I see and appreciate every single comment and like you guys drop me, it means the world and encourages me to keep using writing as a creative outlet <3 Not to repeat myself from last week, but I am working on two other stories already - and hope to get them to you as soon as possible. One of those may or may not be a spin off inside the universe of ttots, and I may or may not have plans to keep expanding this little timeline, you will have to wait and see. I donât know which will be posted first, theyâre both already way longer than I wanted them to be but I will give you little WIP sneak peaks soon so you can help me decide on what do you guys want to read first hehe I think this is it for now, I promise not to be a stranger and to come back soon, but Iâll probably take until the end of the month to work on those side projects before I commit to posting again. Oh!! and let me know if you want to be tagged when I post those WIPs hehe Thats it for now, thank you for reading, Iâll see you sooooooooon :)))
> taglist is closed.
> genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut, pregnancy, the tiniest bit of angst
> warnings |Â explicit language, MDNI.
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19. She will always be tiny for us
The first time you had to be alone with Miseol - for longer than thirty minutes at a time - comes sooner than you expected.
Not that you didnât know it was coming, you have had access to Minhoâs schedule for months now, but it still catches you off guard when youâre in bed the night before he has to actually go to work again.
âAre you sure you donât want to call my mom?â itâs not the first time that he asks.
âI have to be able to look after her by myself eventuallyâ, is the reply heâs been getting from you.
You have your head resting on his chest and heâs running a hand down your back. Miseol is asleep on the next room and the soft electronic hum of the baby monitor is the only sound besides your own voices.
Minho drops a kiss on the top of your head, âIâll call every hourâ
âI know that you willâ
âAnd Iâll come home straight away once weâre doneâ
âNever questioned thatâ
âAnd if you need anything I can leave earlyâ
âMinho, weâll be alrightâ, and at that point you donât know if youâre comforting him or yourself.
Itâs been nice having him by your side for the past two weeks. His parents have come and gone but other than that no one has stopped by to visit yet. Not that they didnât want to, but your doctor had recommended minimum outside contact for the first month, since Miseol was premature and still recovering from her traumatic birth. You all were, to be honest.
Your friends had called. Your team at work had called. Minhoâs managers had called. Everyone had sent gifts and well wishes but, for the most part, it was just the three of you in your little bubble.
The first statement the company released had been well received, with the fans worrying online but a majority wishing Minho to take his time to be with his family. He still had a few schedules ahead before their official vacation time, so he would be going to the company for rehearsals and some recordings over the next couple of days, and then had the comeback showcases and a few full days of music shows.
You were more nervous about the time after the music shows, though, because thatâs when the Minho-is-a-father statement would be coming out. The bright side to that is the upcoming couple of months out of the spotlight for the both of you, with the entire team taking time off as well together for once.
The next morning Minho is out before you are awake. You have no ideia how he had gotten up without the sound of an alarm waking you up, but he was magical like that sometimes. His side of the bed is still slightly warm when you roll over though, so you mustâve just missed him. Miseol is still sound asleep when you check the baby monitor, and before getting up you grab your phone to check the time. Itâs almost 9AM, probably the latest youâve been able to sleep in a while. Thereâs a few texts waiting for you, shining under Minhoâs new contact name, changed by himself a few days before.
[8:23AM] lee minho (love of my life): didnât want to wake you up
[8:23AM] lee minho (love of my life): Bun has been fed and changed before I left
[8:23AM] lee minho (love of my life): let me know when youâre up
[8:24AM] lee minho (love of my life): love you
There was no way he had reached the company yet but you text him anyway.
[8:46AM] y/n: you shouldâve said goodbye :(
His reply comes instantly.
[8:46AM] lee minho (love of my life): sorry baby
[8:46AM] lee minho (love of my life): next time Bun has a dirty diaper right before I have to leave Iâll wake you up!!
[8:47AM] y/n: nevermind
[8:47AM] y/n: i love youuuuu
By some sort of miracle, your daughter sleeps through most of the morning and, by the time she finally demands your attention, you had managed to get breakfast and have a shower. Youâre just sitting with her on the sofa, your legs pulled up so she can rest in your thighs while facing you. This is your current favorite activity. You could spend hours just staring at her, talking about everything as she babbled back to you. It wouldnât last long, every time she would start drifting off to sleep, specially after being fed, but you still managed to get a quick little video to send to Minho.
Only you accidentally sent it to the big group chat with all your friends.
[1:12PM] hyunjinnie: cute!!!!!!
[1:12PM] seo changbin: itâs crazy how much she looks like Lino hyung
[1:12PM] kim seungmin: donât say that to the poor kid
[1:13PM] bora-bora: I think she looks like me :)
[1:13PM] lee minho (love of my life): stop trying to steal my child
yongbok is calling you on facetime
Miseol is still wide awake on your lap so you see no reason to decline the call. The sounds come before the video loads, and you barely have time to lower the volume before a few faces make themselves known.
âNoona, how are you?â Felix is smiling front and center, with both Jisung and Hyunjin hanging from his sides.
âTurn the camera around. I want to see Bunâ, Jisung pipes in, moving Felixâs hand so he can take center place, completely cutting Hyunjin from focus.
âYa! Is that how you greet me?â you fake annoyance but thatâs just how Jisung had been since Miseol was born, he couldnât care less about you or Minho.
âWhy am I still seeing your face, show me my babyâ he whines and you have time to roll your eyes before double tapping the screen to reveal your sweet babygirl.
Hyunjin takes hold of the phone and seems to walk away just as the image loads for them, Felix and Jisungâs complaints following through the speakers, with the screen now showing just a close up of the dancerâs eyes and forehead, âAigoo is that the onesie I gifted her?â
You consider lying but ends up telling the truth, knowing full well it will annoy him, âactually, Bora gave her the same one in a smaller size, yours is still too bigâ
He hangs up on you. Your laugh is loud enough that it startles Miseol a little bit, her eyes growing big on an expression that so closely resembles Minho your heart melts immediately. You coo and bounce your legs so it stops her from crying.
lee minho (love of my life) is calling you on facetime
âDid Hyunjin hang up on Miseol?â his voice is venomous even if you know heâs being playful.
âI think that one was on meâ
âToo bad, Iâm making him run the chorus by himself until he can do it with his eyes closed and mouth filled with tissuesâ, he smiles angelically at you, his voice shifting drastically to a sing-song tone, his focus then moving to somewhere over the camera before he flips it so you can see.
Chan is holding Hyunjin by the waste while Changbin holds onto the front of the younger member shirt, on a play-fight you can only assume was instigated by your wonderfully protective baby-daddy.
âRemember you still need him for the comebackâ
âDo we though?â Jeonginâs voice comes through first, before the camera is flipped back to reveal him next to Minho, âhi noona, can I see Miseol-ah?â
âSee Innie, thatâs why youâre my favoriteâ, you say as you flip the camera to reveal your baby again, this time already fighting to stay awake, you can tell her eyelids are growing heavy.
âHi darlingâ, Minho coos, bringing his face closer to the younger member as well, and you can hear the commotion in the background as more members shift closer. One by one they give space to the next, so everyone can see and say hi to your daughter.
âShe looks biggerâ, Chan says, in awe.
âDonât say thatâ, you pout even if they canât see you. You do feel like sheâs growing too fast already, time slipping you by.
âShe will always be tiny for usâ, Minho corrects his only hyung, to which Chan replies by just squeezing your boyfriendâs shoulder.
âI canât wait to have oneâ, itâs Changbinâs time to pop up.
âAnd just how would you do that?â Jisung says from somewhere you canât see, his voice teasing at the idea of Changbin being the one member perpetually single amongst the group.
âLook at that, he gets himself a girlfriend and suddenly heâs braveâ, Minho comes to Changbinâs defense and you laugh alongside them, Jisungâs unintelligible whines sounding further away.
âIs he still saying theyâre not together?â you ask, happy to have some gossip that doesnât revolve around yourself.
Jisung had been secretly seeing someone for a while, the only proof being evidence left behind at the dorms. Minho was quick to tease and even quicker to spread the word. Specially during those first few days after Miseolâs birth, when everyone could use a little teasing to lighten the mood, the entire group had attached to the idea of Jisung finally commiting to someone, even if the boy had not admitted so himself yet.
Changbin, still perched on Minhoâs shoulder to see the phone, is about to say something when a manager calls out that they should resume practice if they want to leave on time. A couple of hands wave at the camera but you canât really make out whoâs, and Changbin makes a kissy face to your baby before also slipping away, leaving just you and Minho again.
âAppa will be home soon Bunny, be good to mommy, okay?â Miseol is almost fully asleep and Minho lowers his voice to say it. But to no avail, thereâs an echo of his words already going around the room as the rest of the boys tease his dad voice - something you have just recently realized he developed.
He rolls his eyes and step outside as you flip the camera back to you.
âAre you doing okay?â he just wants to make sure, one more time.
âI took a shower and drank two full cups of coffee before she even woke upâ, you gloat, âIâm doing wonderful.â
âOh so you get the extra sleep and the caffeine and I get the dirty diapers?â, one of his eyebrows flicks up in mock annoyance.
âYou had your time being her favorite, now itâs my turnâ, you double down on the teasing.
âIâll remember that when she cries in the middle of the nightâ, but you know those are just empty words, so you smile at him, no malice.
âI love you, you know?â and he must be able to tell you are no longer joking as his face melts into that look heâs been giving you more and more lately.
âI love you tooâ, he whispers, probably anticipating what his rehearsal would look like if they boys heard him, âIâll be home soon, call me when she wakes up again?â
âI willâ and you hang up, happy to know that, for the next few hours, Minho will be back to doing what heâs best at.
â
The boys were about to go on stage. Thatâs not what was scary to Minho. Heâs done that hundreds of times - and loved every single one of those. But that time he knew that, after the showcase, his entire career would be at stake.
Heâs not that naive. He knew what the statement could mean for him and his team. To you, to his daughter.
But he goes through with it anyway. Heâd have roughly a week between the recording of the showcase and the video coming out. Tonight the company would announce their vacation, alongside with 3rachaâs unit album that was already deep into production - to soften the blow.
And then, in a week, the same day the comeback videos start coming out, theyâd also drop the announcement of Miseolâs existence.
The guys had been so supportive about it, it almost overwhelmed Minho. The company still had their concerns but couldnât really push against the united front of their artists, so it was all going as smoothly as possible.
It didnât make it any less scary.
When they finally go on stage they have a bit of time to joke around with the Stays that had been waiting since before dawn, while the crew does camera and light adjustments. Minho does his best to act normal. He teases the fans, threatens his team mates, give away little choreography spoilers - even if it doesnât mean much, theyâre about to see the whole thing for the first time anyway.
And then they get into position. They run through the recording once, twice, three times. They take a break, they eat, they go again. Itâs all routine, all part of what he has been so used to these past few years of his life.
But then itâs time to leave the stage, and Minho has no idea what his life will look like the next time he steps on it.
And it is scary but also, maybe, just a tiny bit exciting.
Miseol will be almost six months old by the time he performs in front of an audience again. He might even be able to bring her to some recordings, show her all the cool things her appa do while heâs away from her. He could maybe bring her to work with him some times when you have to go back to the office. The rest of the boys would certainly love it.
And it is with those thoughts in mind that Minho signals Chan over.
He puts his mic away, gets closer to his friends ear so that only he can hear what he asks of.
âCan I spoil the statement?â
âWhat?â
âNot everything, just tell them thereâs a statement coming, that they should not worry about itâ
âI donât think thatâs a good ideaâ, his leader keeps his face guarded, expression normal, but Minho has lived with the guy for long enough to see the worry on his eyes.
âTrust me on this?â, and Minho is not insistent like that. Chan has known the man just as well.
So the leader relents, a short nod in approval, âI donât know if theyâll keep it in the broadcastâ.
âI knowâ, and Minho also know how to make them keep it.
Changbin is watching, sensing something is off. Minho smiles at him, reassurance, he needs his family to trust him.
A couple of the boys are nearer the boarder of the small stage, interacting with the fans. Minho sees that the cameras are on, filming behind the scenes content for their socials, for sure. He takes his chance, brings the mic to his lips.
âStay, hi!â he calls for their attention brightly.
The crowd cheers, the boys look at him confused.
âI wanted to say thank youâ, and Minho is sincere, he keeps his eyes bright, his expression light, he needs everyone to know this is a good thing, he doesnât want them to worry. âI appreciate you waiting for me, Iâm sorry I missed some of the fun but Iâm thankful to the members for covering for meâ
He looks pointedly behind him, makes eye contact with every single one of the boys. Some are confused, some are smiling back. None make any movement to stop him.
âI donât want you to worry about me so I want to say something but you have to promise not to tell anyone yetâ, the crowd cheer their agreement, âbut later, if they cut this off, than you can talk about it, okay?â
Another cheer, a little louder. He sees the movement on the side stage, managers and producers alike all confused but what was going on.
âI canât say much yet but a few statements will be coming out soonâ, a worried sound goes through the crowds, âitâs nothing bad, I promise, but I just wanted you all to know from me first that I am sorry to have worried you, Iâm sorry if I ever disappointed you, and I hope you will keep loving Stray Kids just the sameâ.
Someone in the crowd screams, âare you leaving the group?â
Hyunjin laughs behind him, it takes Minho off guard but he looks back to see the younger boy bringing his own mic to his face, âdo you really thing we can get rid of him?â
âYa, heâs stuck with us foreverâ, Changbin adds, voice loud and bright.
âStay doesnât need to worry, you just need to trust usâ, itâs Seungminâs turn.
And Minho is so grateful.
He bows deeply before leaving the stage. Gets an earful of his managers but the members give him little pats in the back as they walk backstage. And theyâre the most important part of this whole thing anyway.
âHow are you feeling?â, Jisung is beside him on the waiting room. They still have to shoot a couple dance challenges and behind content before theyâre able to go home.
âTiredâ, Minho says, honestly, allowing his body to slide down the chair a little bit, âready to go homeâ
âHow are Y/N and Miseol?â
That makes Minho smile, âtheyâre goodâ
âOh my god you really do get the lookâ, Minho turns to look and Jisung has that little sparkle of mischief in his eyes.
âWhat do you mean?â
âThe appa look, they were rightâ
âWhoâs âtheyâ?â he rightens his body to do the air quotes, not following what Jisung is saying.
âLiterally everyone, dudeâ he moves his arms around for emphasis.
âWhat is everyone doing?â Jeongin pipes in, having just walked into the waiting area.
âSaying Minho has an appa lookâ Jisung clarifies.
âOh, he doesâ the younger agrees.
âNo, I donât?â Minho is starting to question his own certainties.
Jisung and Jeongin share a look. Minho hates that he is not in on said look.
âThan can you talk about Miseol for like a minute for me?â Jeongin requests, pulling out his phone while at it.
âWhy would I do that?â Minho crosses his arms.
Minho takes a deep breath and stares pointedly at his maknae, but complies.
He doesnât really know what to say at first but, as he starts, he finds out the words come easy to him. He talks about how youâve been talking to the baby so much that he sometimes hears your voice even when you are not there. The two of you were still calling Miseol by her nickname of Bun, but that had also evolved into Bunny, Bunbaby and, more recently, BobaBun - coined by you because her eyes look more and more like boba balls everyday. You joke about how Miseol will end up getting Minhoâs expressive eyes just based on how she stares at you when you canât figure out what sheâs crying about. Minho mentions how much easier it is for him to get Miseol to fall asleep, while you always end up with her in your arms for hours. But then, how bath time ended up being mostly your responsibility - Minho is too anxious about letting her slip into the bathtub, shoulders way too tense the entire time. Itâs just that sheâs so small? And water can be so scary? He should probably sign her up for swimming lessons as soon as possible, right?
âAnd there it isâ, Jeongin pulls Minho out of his monologue.
Minho shuts his mouth as stares at the younger members before him. Jeongin shows his phone screen to Jisung first before turning it to Minho.
Oh, okay.
Itâs just final bit of the video. Minho doesnât need the sound to see what they mean. He has never seen that expression on his face before.
Huh.
The members will keep teasing him about his appa look. He will stop denying it but will never concede that he has such a thing either.
He doesnât mind it, really, itâs more about sticking to the principle of the thing. Minho is an appa, after all, and he wouldnât have it any other way.
â
Hello, this is JYP Entertainment.
We would like to express our sincere gratitude to all the fans who continue to show their love and support for Stray Kids. We understand that the fans have shown concerns regarding Lee Knowâs recent absence from official content and performances.
We would like to inform you that Stray Kids member Lee Know will be taking a short break from group activities to focus on his personal life.
Lee Know has met someone precious to him and together they have recently welcomed a baby girl into their lives.
As his girlfriend is a non-celebrity, we ask for the fans and media reporters to respect their privacy.
We sincerely apologize for any concern this news may cause to fans who have been looking forward to Stray Kids new album activities.
Lee Know will continue to work hard as an artist and will be back shortly with the full support of Stray Kids and JYP Entertainment.
As this decision was made with the artistâs well being as our top priority, we kindly ask for your understanding and continued support.
We ask you to send Lee Know and his family lots of blessings and messages of celebration.
Thank you.
â
On the day that the showcase would air, you were taking a nap with Miseol while Minho was on the sofa, reading over the statement that had just came out.
He had a handwritten letter ready to go as well. The company insisted on it. He thought the whole thing a bit archaic but did it nonetheless. You thought it was sentimental and said he should post it on his own social media, instead of the groupâs official accounts. Something more personal. Minho kept the letter pretty close to what he had said during the recording of the showcase - and knew that video would be coming out too, after being reviewed by a team of managers many, many times.
When deciding on how to post the letter, you were the one to suggest him doing it alongside a few photos - images that didnât show your daughterâs face, but still enough that everyone knew she was an actual, real human. Someone innocent on this whole thing that meant a lot to a lot of people.
He scrolls through the hundreds of photos from the past few months, trying and failing to pick the perfect ones.
It took him almost the entirety of your nap, but he hit post just as he heard you coming down to the living room.
âWhat time is it?â you ask, hair messy, hands still brushing sleep out of your eyes.
âAlmost dinner timeâ, he replies, making space on the sofa for you to join him. You do.
âMy sleeping schedule is so fucked, Iâll never be able to get it fixedâ, you whine into his chest, closing your eyes again, taking in his comfort.
âYes you willâ, he starts, hands soothing down your side, âit might just take until Bun is in schoolâ
You groan. Because you know itâs true. Because you canât think about her going to school. Because you just woke up and want to go back to sleep already. Thereâs a lot to groan about.
âDid the statement come out?â you ask, thinking if thereâs one more thing to add to your groan-list.
âYupâ, Minho fishes his phone, unlocking it to you, âI also posted thisâ
It takes a second for your eyes to adjust to the light. You see that there are notifications popping down non stop. From the members, from managers. So you set the phone to do not disturb so you can look at the post before you think about the repercussions of it.
The first picture is Minhoâs classic black square.
The second is Miseolâs little feet, wearing the bunny socks you had used to gift Minho the ultrasound. It was a favorite of his and, whenever he was on duty to dress her up, nine times out of ten you would find your daughter wearing them. You should probably look into getting a larger one soon, she was growing fast.
The third was a close up of Minhoâs face, his eye bags taking center stage. Neither of you had been getting much sleep. You let out a little snort at that and looks up at him, heâs so proud of himself and his whole expression shows it.
âYou think youâre funnier than you actually areâ
âWell, you laughedâ and you roll your eyes because you hate when heâs right.
The fourth photo is, surprisingly, the bump. It was taken during one of your visits to Minhoâs parentâs place with him. You had just eaten lunch and were all hanging out at the living room. Soonie had taken a liking to your belly from the very first time you visited them after finding out you were pregnant. On that day, already far into the pregnancy, while you rested on the sofa, the cat had decided he should take a nap on top of your bump. He was too big to fit properly, so his front legs were just hanging from the side. He fell asleep with his eyes half open, fully relaxed. Minho was only able to snap a couple of photos before your giggles disturbed Soonieâs slumber. That being one of those.
The next photo slide was Miseolâs little fist holding onto her big Leebit through the ears.
And then, finally, her hand again, wrapped around Minhoâs finger.
The photos of the hand written letter followed, and you scrolled down to see the caption of the post.
t.leeknowsaurus Hi hi, Stay~
I have not been sleeping much but I am really happy
Donât worry too much!
Iâll be with Stay again soon, but right now I need to be with this little dancer, sheâs growing too fast already
I love you
It is very him. You look up and meet your lips to his.
âI love youâ, you say. You canât stop saying it now.
âYou know that 'I love you' was for Stay, right?â He teases.
âAnd since when am I not a Stay?â
He smiles and kisses you again, âyouâre right, you are my very first fanâ
âDonât disrespect your mother like that, Iâm okay being second placeâ
âDo you think Miseol will like music?â
âWith you as a dad? How could she not?â
âThen we will be her first fans.â He sounds dreamlike. You smile at the thought.
You can almost see it. Years from now, whatever it is Miseol decides to do, having Minho by your side to cheer her on.
You wouldnât have it any other way.
> a/n | one final little chapter to go, everyoneâŠâŠ. I'm feeling so bittersweet about the end of this story. On one hand I'm so proud of myself for seeing it through and so happy that many of you seem to have liked it but the other side to that is the truth that this little piece of writing meant a lot to me and was very much an escape from the chaos of real life. So yeah, bittersweet. I'll come back with an epilogue and a longer note next week, I ammmmm working on a couple other things for you that I'm very excited about, but I also need to take some time to let those stories simmer like I did with this one before posting it. Anyway, this is already too long. Thank you for reading, see you very soon :)
> taglist is closed!
> genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut, pregnancy, the tiniest bit of angst
> warnings |Â mentions of a bad childhood, MDNI.
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18. intermission. winter
Itâs late.
You should not have been awake at 4 AM and yet.
Itâs not even as if you were sleep deprived. Truth be told, ever since going to bed the night before, this was the first time you were the one to get up. Minho was out the door the three previous times your daughter did as much as whine. You heard her cry while already up - your bladder was still not back to normal and kept waking you up at unreasonable hours. So you were quick to assure Minho you got her this time.
You had fed her and changed her. She had stopped crying, that is, until you tried putting her down. So you were doing laps around your small living room, going from the kitchen to her bedroom, holding her close and humming quietly, in hopes sheâd be sleepy enough to be transferred to the crib with less of a fuss.
The sad thing was, you were already fully awake. You knew that, even if you managed to free your arms eventually, there was not way you were going back to bed. So you were in no rush. You took your time holding your baby. Itâs not even been a week with her home and you felt that she had already changed so much. Her eyes were attentive to everything and she looked like she was filling her newborn clothes better.
It would still be night for quite a while, it seemed like the real start of winter. The rain was constant but looked like it would stop at any minute now, maybe turn into snow. The weather made you think of times when you were up at this hour as a young girl. Back when you were too big to need looking after all the time, but too small to know any better.
The alarm went off too late.
The bus would be coming in less then 15 minutes and you had not packed you bag properly the night before.
You were up late washing the dishes from dinner - you left the stove on for too long and half of the food was burnt and stuck at the bottom of the pan. Mom would be home the next morning and you didnât want to leave the mess for her to handle. You still had homework to get done and needed to find a change of clothes to take with you for later in the day.
The dance lessons were expensive. It took you two years to convince your dad to allow you to sign up. You saved every last bit of your allowance to help out, and the ajumma at the nearby convenience store would always sneak you a couple of bills when you helped her with the delivery boxes.
Deep down you thought your mom was happy youâd start spending your afternoons after school out of the house. She had been taking on night shifts and would use the afternoons to catch up on sleep, so with you out all day that was one less thing to worry her. Dad had been traveling for work a lot - part of the reason why you were allowed the dance lessons was probably his guilty conscious at being away all the time.
But all that would only work if you could manage it yourself.
And you would manage, eventually. Over the years you would become a pro at juggling all sorts of responsibilities. You would dance until the very last available opportunity, and when those stopped, you would fill your time with other interests, other abilities, other lessons. You would keep dancing at home but, most importantly, your time at the dance academy would teach you about having a team behind you, people you could count on.
But thatâs later.
So with less then five minutes to figure it out, you just stashed the first clean clothes you came across in your bag and grabbed an overly ripe apple on your way out. You could probably steal a bit of one of your friendâs lunch later in the day.
Your winter jacket was getting too small. The sleeves no longer covered your wrists and the padding didnât feel that comforting anymore. Just as you stepped into the bus, barely making it, did you notice the soles of your shoes had also seen better days. You knew those sneakers were reaching the end of its life but youâd be out all day and boots were not the best dancing shoes. Your socks were wet, the bottom of your pants too.
But you made it to school, managed to dry yourself off, attended all your classes as expected. When lunch came by, there was a new face at your table. You had met Bora the week before, when you first visited the dance academy. She was brought in by the dance instructor, who knew she attended the same school as you.
It felt almost like a prank, at first. A little jab of the universe at you. Your mom had signed all the papers, sent in her authorization and the first payment for the lessons. But you went in alone, shaken to your core at the prospect of being denied entry. It was unusual timing, the middle of winter. But there was an opening, your math teacher was the one to let you know about it.
She knew you danced, casually. When you stayed late at school following dance videos on the cafeteriaâs little TV while you waited for someone to come pick you up. She lost track of how many times over the past few years she escorted you home while you were still too small to get on the bus by yourself. Her sister was teaching at the studio, she might have mentioned something to you mom too, one of those rare times she managed to catch her.
And then you got there, and they bring in this girl, bright eyed and quick to laugh, to help show you around the place. You liked her immediately. Bora said sheâd find you at school the next day, and she did.
Youâve been inseparable ever since. She caught you up on all the drama at the dance academy, who were the good instructors, the cooler classes to take. What to wear to fit in, who to avoid if you didnât want an accidental sprained ankle. It was brutal out there, it seemed, and to have someone so nice given to you so easily? It felt odd, nothing ever went like that for you.
So you didnât question when the rain turned into a downpour on your way out of school. That you were used to. Bora had left first, she had a dad that picked her up so she could change at home before classes. You didnât know it yet, but over the next few years, many would be the times when youâd join her. Play around with her siblings on the back seat, reply to questions about school coming from her parents, who actually cared and wanted to know.
But thatâs later.
At first youâd kill time at school. Take another bus. Walk a few blocks. Pace around until your wrist watch told you it was okay for you to go in.
One day a tutor would see you waiting outside, right as the days started to grow colder, and invite you in early for tea. Sheâd help you with homework and braid your hair for lessons. Many times over the years youâd think about her, whenever you could smell green tea brewing. Because she never asked you why you were waiting outside, she just took a look at your scrawny figure, your unfitted clothes, and the way you kept repeating the same movements to a choreography she had crafted, even without any music to be heard.
But thatâs later.
When it was finally time for you to go in, that first day, you were soaked. The rain was a burden - but not unexpected. It didnât exactly catch you off guard. You had time to hide your backpack under your coat, to try to keep your school work safe. But your hair was wet. Your legs were wet. Your shoes, specially, were absolutely drowned.
But you changed into what you brought. You ignored the splash sounds following you around as you walked. And you took the damn class.
You were surprised at how easily you followed along. The many hours spent in front of the TV paying off. Bora helped you with the steps you had trouble with and introduced you to her friends. You were happy. But then it was time to go home, and it was already dark out again, and the rain had came back. Bora left and you changed back into your - still wet - coat.
While you waited for the sky to stop crying, maybe just a little bit, enough for you to run to the bus stop, a little boy popped up beside you.
Bora had pointed at him earlier in class. 'Thatâs Minho, heâs a little weird'. You had seen him dance, a little jealous of how easy it came to him. It was a new choreography for everyone, so why did it look like heâd been practicing it for months? He was holding in a good puffer jacket. Something old, maybe second hand, but cared for and, most importantly, warm.
âCan you hold that for me?â, he says. Not a hello, not a nice to meet you. Just a request. You extend your arm mindlessly, taking the coat from his hands.
He kneels down, looks for something inside his bag and takes out a little pen drive. The little red device is attached to a cat keychain. He swiftly slides it off the wire holding it together, stands up and extends it to you.
âI had the teacher make me a copy of the songsâ, you gawk at him, not fully understanding whatâs going on, âyou can have it until tomorrow.â
You start to feel ashamed, am I that bad of a dancer heâs doing all that to tell me I need to practice? But you also feel a little grateful, you had been wondering how to get your hands on the songs so you could keep training at home.
Before you can say anything, he keeps going.
âYou can also borrow my coat, it will probably snow soon, my mom is picking me upâ, and as if spoken into existence, a car pulls up in front of the dance academy.
Minho goes down the few stairs in a hurry, and hops into the car that had the car already pushed open by the woman sitting inside. He waves at you quickly before shutting the door behind him, avoiding the heavy rain still pouring down.
Once the car leaves you find yourself stuck in the same position, struck by the kindness of a kid you had never seen before. You slide in his coat, grateful for the extra warm it brings. Itâs the perfect size for you and you consider stealing it forever, wonder if he will actually ask it back tomorrow.
He doesnât. And he never will again, for any of the clothes you end up keeping of his.
But thatâs later.
Back then, the rain gave you a break and, just as you were reaching the bus stop, little white specks started to fall from the sky.
It was the first snow of the year.
The bus took way too long to arrive and by the time you made it home it was way later than you expected it to be. Not that anyone noticed it, your mom had already left for work, your dad would not be back for another week. But you didnât mind that much for once. You took a minute at your front porch. The snow had become a steady gentle companion. It had stopped raining, the street was starting to become slippery with ice. It was beautiful.
Because you had made new friends. You were dancing, for real. A boy had landed you his coat. It was snowing.
Through the years, you would spend many first-days-of-snow with them. You never forgot how your friendship had started. Minho and you would exchange that one pen drive for years, sharing song ideas for dances. It would break, eventually, but by then you already both had access to computers and, not much later, phones. And then you would text non stop, from serious to silly. Everything that life threw at you after that day, you managed to tackle.
Itâs later.
You had slightly turned the chair at the nursery so it faced the window. The sky was starting to lighten and your baby was finally asleep in your arms.
âIs she down?â Minho is standing at the door, leaning on it, arms crossed over his chest as if he had been there for a while. He keeps his voice down, his usual bright tones disappearing and giving space for the low notes he only reaches on the early hours of the day.
âI think soâ, you take her in for a second and suddenly you know it.
You look back at him, just as heâs coming closer. He leans down and you transfer her to his arms, she fusses for a second but settles easily. You think heâll put her on the bassinet but instead he takes a step towards the window, looking outside while cradling her body close to his chest.
The step you take after standing up is the easier one you took your entire life. Almost like a magnet, youâre supposed to be right by them.
âMiseolâ you say, quietly.
It doesnât look like he heard you at first. His posture stays the same, he keeps looking out.
âItâs snowingâ, he says. He looks down at the baby asleep on his arms. He repeats the name, âMiseolâ
âWhat do you think?â, you wrap your arms sideways around his waist, rests your head on his shoulder to also look down at the baby.
He kisses the top of your head, âitâs perfectâ.
Somewhere, on a different room, an alarm sets off. Soon the day will be here. The quiet will be replaced by the sounds of the world outside waking up.
But thatâs later.
For a little while, itâs just you, Minho, Miseol and the first snow of the year falling outside. Time does not exist.
> a/n | ok so baby Bun finally has a name!!! I am not Korean so I had to trust good old baby-name sites to find one that made sense with the story, so Miseol meaning comes from the Sino-Korean çŸ (mi) meaning "beauty", and éȘ (seol) meaning "snow". As always, thanks for reading, see you sooooon
> taglist is closed!
> genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut, pregnancy, the tiniest bit of angst
> warnings |Â explicit language, mentions of medical issues, like 90% fluff, MDNI.
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17. Can we never do that again?
If Minho had been quiet when he was last with you, now he could not stop talking.
Even if he tried, he just kept rambling on and on about his baby. Your baby. How she looks like you but also like him. How she looked like both of you but also like a completely different person. How tiny she is, and how mighty. How she held onto him the entire time he was there with her.
âSo you have to wake up to meet herâ, is a common phrase heâs been uttering.
You had not even decided on a name. Had you even discussed that? Mentioned it at all?
He had been so caught up in calling her Bun, he never even asked you if you had a name you called the baby in your mind. Did you have names that you liked? Were you keeping a list?
How could the two of you talk so much all the time and still have so much left unsaid?
âI canât imagine my life without youâ, Minho doesnât want to talk in between the lines anymore, âyou are more than a friend, you have always been more than a friendâ.
And wasnât that true? You had took residence in a much larger portion of his heart than any other person in his life. Safe for his daughter, maybe, but she lived with you so it just felt like he extended your mansion to fit a little bit more. You had been his first thought for as long as he could remember. Even when life made the two of you drift away for a bit, he could always trust youâd pick up when he called, he would always text you back as soon as he could.
The members used to tease him about it, how heâd drop everything for you. But he was in denial for so long. If only he had listened to them, maybe he couldâve figured it out sooner.
âEven calling you my girlfriend seems like too littleâ, he laughs at himself, at how true it sounds coming out of his mouth, âI donât even think wife gets close to what you mean to meâ.
His eyes widen. That was also true. Huh, guess thereâs that.
âNot that I donât want you to be all thatâ, he corrects himself, his little laughs turning more deranged, his nervousness getting the best of him, âI really want to call you all that. That is. If you want it. Itâs okay if not. I will have anything, as long as I have you by my side. I can do friends, if thatâs what you want.â
He cuts himself off. He thinks he could do friends. Friends who have a baby together. Who know the shapes of each otherâs bodies. Who maybe kiss a little, sometimes?
âYeah, I could do friends, but thatâs the thing, I donât think thatâs what you want eitherâ, he didnât want to sound too presumptuous, but now that he had started talking about it, his brain going a mile every second, he couldnât stop himself, âI think you like me just as much as I like youâ.
Minho didnât believe in soulmates. But if there ever was such a thing, he was pretty sure you were his. And wouldnât it be too cruel of the universe to put you in his life, gift him with this person that felt like they were made just for him, allow him to love them, and not let them love him back? When he thought back to life before you, those few years of being a child, it all felt like it was moving in slow motion. And then you. And everything started moving very fast.
âIt feels right to like youâ, his throat is closing up again, his eyes a little teary, âit feels right to love you.â
He looks at your hand in his, traces the lines on your palm, rubs his thumb on your wrist. You are here. You will be okay.
âI just love you.â
You squeeze his hand. At first he thinks is his wishful thinking making him feel things that are not happening, but then he looks up at you and your eyelids are fluttering open, only to be closed again.
A frown graces your features and he stands up, maybe gets too close. He doesnât care.
âBaby, can you hear me?â, he squeezes your hand back and you open your eyes and looks straight at him.
Minho could tell you were having trouble understanding where you were, he tries to keep his voice level, keep himself calm. He hits the button that calls for the nurse, never letting his eyes drift away from you.
âYouâre okay, everything will be okayâ, he keeps repeating it, both to you and to himself, he knows. He has no idea if it was registering but you kept looking at him too, so he hoped it was.
The door flew open behind him, a couple nurses and your doctor coming in. Theyâre gentle with him when they ask him to move, someone holds onto his bicep, slowly dragging him away.
He felt desperation starting to hit. Because you were awake and looking at him and he had so much to tell you. Someone is telling him theyâll be quick. They just need to check if everything is okay, run some quick tests. But his feet refuses to move, so he untangles himself from them, stepping closer to you again. Just one more thing, he pleads, and is allowed.
Minho takes your hands and places another kiss there, whispers, âI love youâ.
You look at him like you donât understand him, so he says again, looking at you, âI love youâ.
And once more, just as heâs about to be shut out of the room, for good measure, louder than the previous times, âI love youâ.
The corridor is empty. Quiet. The doctor is saying something inside the room but itâs muffled and he feels like gluing his ear to the door to try and hear it would not be the best look on him. So he waits.
Minho paces back and forth, five steps on one direction, turn, five steps on the opposite direction, turn. He keeps count at first, trying to occupy his brain. It mustâve worked as he has no idea where the nurse talking to him now came from.
âWould you like to visit your daughter again?â, she doesnât even have to finish the question before heâs excessively nodding, barely following her this time. He had memorized the way there already, how could he not? He had to know where his little girl was.
She still looks tiny when he sees her, but why does it feel like she has already changed? Itâs only been a couple of hours but he feels like he already missed so much.
The nurse accompanying him doesnât even have to explain what he should do this time, he goes through the entire routine unprompted, and pulls the chair for himself.
âMommy will be with you soonâ, he starts by saying, âshe just needs a little bit more time, but I know sheâs so excited to see youâ.
Heâs a little braver with his hands this time, he maps out her features, carefully runs his fingers through her little legs, counts her toes. Minhoâs not aware of what heâs even saying anymore.
Maybe exhaustion was catching up to him.
But he canât will his mouth to stop, he must keep talking. Otherwise he might just combust. Explode with unsaid things.
So he tells his daughter about her mother. And then about her grandparents. About their friends. Even about the cats. And the baby is quietly asleep but, when his hand reaches hers again, she holds onto him just like before. A reflex, his conscious mind tells him, but his heart fights it with all its might. Thatâs his daughter, holding onto him for comfort.
âYou can go back if youâd likeâ, the nurseâs voice is gentle, âsheâs asking about youâ.
And Minho is conflicted again, he looks from the baby to the nurse and back again. Couldnât he bring her with him? Before he could ask, though, your doctor steps in.
âMinho-ssiâ, she starts, and he stands up, careful not to disturb the place where his daughter has her fist wrapped around his finger, âtheyâre both out of danger nowâ.
And the relief hit him so hard his legs felt a little bit like jelly, but he held on.
âWeâll try and see if baby can breathe on her own and as soon as possible weâll bring her to youâ, and she looks at Bun with so much kindness that Minho realizes that some people are really meant to be certain things. He trusted her with his daughter.
He tells his baby he will see her soon. He promises. And that next time, mommy will be with her too.
And then heâs allowed back into your room.
You were sitting up in bed, drinking water from a cup with the help of a straw. Half of the equipment surrounding you had been pushed away, no longer in need, and you smile softly at him.
The nurse keeping guard beside you steps away and lets him switch places with her, you drink a few more sips before he helps you by taking the cup from your hand and placing it on the side table that has been moved closer.
âHiâ, your voice is hoarse.
âHiâ, he says back.
Minho hears the door close behind him, signaling that they have been left alone for now.
The two of you just stare at each other for a bit, he sees the emotions taking over your face one at a time. Joy, grief, worry. You open your mouth again but before any sound could come out, heâs putting your mind at ease.
âSheâs alrightâ, he says, and sees you visibly relax. You close your mouth, smiles at him again.
Your arm reaches for the cup once more and he helps by taking it to your lips, helping you with small sips, until you are almost done with the water.
Heâs so so so glad to see you awake. To recognize your movements, your expressions. He could not stop talking not that long ago, but now he didnât know where to start. So he foregoes of filters. Youâre his best friend, he had always known how to talk to you.
âCan we never do that again?â, is where he settles.
âHave a baby?â you ask quietly, a little amused glint in your eyes.
He laughs despite himself, âthe whole almost dying thingâ.
âNot planning on itâ
Quiet again. He grabs your hand, pulls the chair closer to the bed, takes a seat. Minho brings your hand to meet his lips and just stay there for a minute. Taking in the contact. This is real. You are alright.
âI just love you too, by the wayâ
He releases all the air on his lungs at once, âyou heard all that?â
âNot all of it but I think I got the gistâ
âOk, goodâ
You keep smiling at each other. Two fools, is what you are.
He knew you meant it like he did, thereâs no longer space for doubt. Life is too short, everything feels too big, Minho loves you and you love him back. Just like that.
A nurse knocks on the door this time, so it seems like you are finally allowed enough privacy that people are no longer just walking in. Minho reluctantly lets go of your hand to give the medical team some space. They need to change your bandages and the doctor wanted to speak to you about what you should expect.
Minho stays in the room with you this time. He doesnât flinch when he sees the cesarian scar, but he does look a little panicked when you hiss over the pain, with the doctor showing the both of you how to better care for it. Minho forces himself to pay attention to every single little detail, and you deter your reflex of rolling your eyes at him, knowing heâd follow every instruction to a T.
After everything has been taken care of, youâre offered a wheelchair to go see your little girl. You had been informed that she was now breathing on her own, but had to stay at the NICU for a little bit longer so they could monitor her.
The doctor was optimistic though, saying that if she kept going like she had, they could all be going home in no longer than a few days.
Minho is careful picking you up to help you onto the chair. You circle your arms over his shoulder and has to hide your disappointment at the need of letting go.
Would the doctor allow him to sleep in bed with you? It would be a tight fit but you had had your fair share of sleeping in couches together, so you thought youâd manage just fine.
--
Nothing couldâve prepared you to see Bun for the first time. For the first real time. You had seen her briefly as they took her out of you, but you couldnât study her features, take in the reality that she was actually here.
âI love youâ, is the first thing you tell her, and Minho allows you your moment with humor in his eyes. The fondest expression seeing his two girls together at last. You complete your thought, âI will always love youâ.
And Minho canât help but chuckle at that.
You force yourself to look away from her, to see what was so funny about what you said, but are disarmed as you notice that Minho had gone misty eyed.
âWhat?â you question, your free hand reaching out to him.
âThatâs what I said tooâ, he replies, voice barely above a whisper.
You keep your eyes on him for a beat longer, taking in this new expression you had never seen before. How lucky for you, to keep getting to know new parts of Minho after all this time. Would that be his look as a father?
Your baby whines, the tiniest sound, and both of you coo at her, reaching together to soothe her. Her hand curls around your fingers this time, and you have to fight your own tears. You would not let your vision go blurry, you had to take in every moment. You needed to remember this. This was the best day of your life.
âShe really does have your noseâ, you chuckle as you notice it, thinking back to every ultrasound image you had seen of her profile.
âAnd your mouthâ, Minho adds, while brushing her cheek carefully.
âWe made herâ
âYupâ, he lets out a little laugh, almost in disbelief.
The two of you stay by her for as long as you are allowed but, eventually, a nurse comes to collect you, saying youâd be able to be with her on your own room soon.
As Minho pushes your wheelchair away, you feel your heart start to crack.
Rationally you knew she would be okay. She was under the good care of the doctors. Youâd be together again in no time. But your chest felt tight, your mind wondering into dangerous places.
You managed well enough until you were inside your room again, but as soon as the nurse left you, a sob escaped you unannounced.
Minho was by you in no time, his hands cupping your cheeks, his thumbs catching the tears that had started to fall.
You hiccup into him, holds onto his arms and feels the stretch on your lower belly where your stitches were placed. The physical pain meant very little.
âHey, hey, baby, talk to me, whatâs wrong?â he sounds frantic but his hold on you is kept tight.
You can barely talk through your hiccups, but you feel like you need to say sorry, so you try, âs-sorry I- I donât- I canât-â
âShould I call the doctor, are you hurting?â the worry in his voice makes your guilt deepen.
You force yourself to take deep breaths, focusing on the feeling on Minhoâs hands on your face. You owned him an apology, an explanation.
âI shouldâve gone home soonerâ, you manage to push out, and saw as a little wrinkle take place on his forehead.
âWhat do you mean, baby?â
âI shouldâve called the doctor, itâs my f- fault-â, and your breath catches again, more tears coming out.
âOh no, noâ, he takes a seat on your bed, bringing himself as close to you as possible, he scans your entire face, trying to decide what to do first, âItâs not your fault.â
âBut it isâ, you whine, âI shouldâve called you, Minho, I almost lost herâ
You hiccup and he brings his forehead to rest on yours. He closes his eyes and you follow, but the tears still escape through your eyelashes. He keeps wiping them away. You feel as Minho starts taking deep breaths himself, maybe trying to keep composed, maybe helping you regulate your own breathing. It works, either way, and you had no idea how long you stayed like that, forehead to forehead, breathing together.
âI would not be able to live with myself if I lost herâ, you admit, barely above a whisper.
âWe didnât lose herâ, is his reply, âand even if we had-â
He pauses then, as if considering his next words, as if being faced with the possibility is a bit too much.
âIf we had, it would still not be your faultâ, he completes, âbut we didnât, sheâs here, sheâs okayâ.
And itâs almost as if heâs calming himself as much as you, but it works.
âIâm so sorryâ, you start, but he stops you by separating your heads, making you open your eyes to look at him. He looks more serious than he had all day.
âIâm sorryâ, he starts, and you open your mouth to protest but the look on his eyes holds you tongue-tied, âIâm sorry I wasnât here, Iâm sorry I didnât check in before, Iâm sorry you had to go through this aloneâ
Your breath threatens to quicken again, how dare him apologize for that?
âNo, listen to meâ, he keeps going, âI am very sorry about all that, and I canât promise Iâll always be here but Iâll try my damn hardest. If anything, anything were to happen to either of you while I was away, that would be it for me too. But it didnât. And it wonât.â
It sounds like he is reassuring himself.
âI love you so much, Iâm so proud of all that you did for Bun, I can never thank you enough for bringing her into my lifeâ
You still felt guilty. You still needed time to process everything, the aching was too new, too raw, it needed time to scar - and you knew it would. But for now, you could handle that. You could accept Minhoâs love and mirror your own. You could step into the role of a mother, and try your damn hardest to be there for your little girl too.
He reaches for your water that has been refilled and helps you take a few sips.
âI love youâ, you say, once more, for good measure.
âI love youâ, because he hasnât said it enough before.
--
It is only the next day that you are allowed more visitors.
The doctor had turned a blind eye on you and Minho sharing your bed and, just like you expected it, it felt like nothing out of the ordinary to squeeze into the space with him. You fell asleep to the sound of his voice babbling about what had happened while he was in Japan, at your request. You grew tired fairly fast and only woke up a few times during the night with the nurses coming in to check on your stitches.
The baby was brought into your room during the late hours of the next morning, and allowed to stay there with you. The nurses helped you with breastfeeding and changing her for the first time, Minhoâs parents were allowed in too, at some point, and provided their own tips and tricks about looking after a little Lee.
âItâs just like riding a bicycleâ, Minhoâs mom joked, while disposing of a diaper for you, good humored and featherlight, her presence a soothing addition to your new orbit around Bun.
Bun, who still lacked a proper name. Minho and you had been brainstorming some ideas, finally, but nothing had stuck yet.
It was only when Minhoâs dad insisted he was starting to smell bad that he agreed to step away to shower and gather some things you might need. He was too tired to drive himself though, so Bora, who also needed a shower and some rest, offered to take him.
The first stop is the dorms. Minho finds his bags already there, searches his wardrobe for a few changes and takes a shower that probably shouldâve been longer. Heâs eager to go back though, so he paces back and forth while waiting for Bora to be back, his friend having gone to her own place to also clean herself and pick up some cheesy balloons for your room. You deserved all the cliches that came with birthing a new human, and sheâd be damned if she didnât get you and Bun your flowers.
The next stop was your own apartment. You had never finished packing your maternity bag, but Minho knew where you kept most of the things and, with some helpful instructions from the nurses, he felt confident about completing your bag for you. Your phone was also still there and, as much as you kept going on and on about taking everything in and living in the moment, you had been asking everyone for their own phones to snap pictures of the babyâs tiny fingers and round cheeks. As much as he didnât mind the quick growth of images on his camera roll, he knew youâd be happy to have them for yourself as well.
What neither Minho or Bora had accounted for, however, was stepping in into your apartment for the first time.
It took him a minute to understand why Bora seemed frozen when he knocked into her, about to curse her out for stopping.
But then he followed her gaze and landed on a small dried stain, only to keep following the stain into bigger patches of red. He felt like throwing up.
Bora turned around already hiccuping and it was instinctual to open his arms to receive her weigh. Minho and Bora were not the type of friends who showed affection towards each other often. He could count on a single hand the amount of times Bora had said something nice to him throughout the span of their friendship - she could probably say the same about him.
They had, however, a mutual understanding when it came to you. Both had always been softer, kinder towards you. Minho knew what Bora was feeling. Bora, who had mad light of the situation. Bora, who had been there for you countless times when he couldnât. Bora, who was the one to find you, bleeding and in pain on a place that shouldâve been safe. So Minho allowed her to cry first, for as long as she needed, soft pats on her back while he ignored the wet feeling growing on the front of his nice clean shirt.
He avoided to look at it for as long as possible.
Only when Bora finally calmed a bit and excused herself to wash her face, did he find the courage to understand what his eyes were informing him.
Glass was still on the floor, the vegetables on the counter making it so the entire place smelt a little funky, the bloody knife.
He started with the glass. Picked up the larger shards with his own hand, fetched a broom for the smaller bits. The blood had dried on the floor so he had to find some rags and wet them first, before he could tackle that. While it soaked, he threw the food on the trash, scrubbed the cutting board clean, wrapped the knife with plastic to throw it out - he couldnât trust it anymore.
When Bora came back, not even 15 minutes later, having recomposed herself, she found Minho on his hand and knees, on the verge of a panic attack while trying to clean the stain on your kitchen tiles.
She calls his name a couple of times before he finally looks up, eyes red with the threat of tears.
So it is Boraâs turn to be there for him, sinking on the floor, holding onto her friend even if he refuses to hold back, shoulders tense, eyes shut tight.
âShe needed meâ, his voice is barely above a whisper but Bora is holding him so close, she hears him loud and clear. Wouldâve even if he had made no sound. Her thoughts had been pretty similar.
âShe has youâ, she tries to comfort, but know itâs not enough.
She starts patting his back and feels him tense more.
Bora sucks at this.
âYou suck at thisâ, and she chuckles, because itâs true. And he chuckles back because it is probably the fourth time they hug like that. Ever.
Itâs loaded but Bora takes the rag from him and keeps scrubbing, wordlessly. He appreciates her more than ever before.
It takes him a minute to regain feeling on his legs, and he paces around the small space until he spots the back of your phone, your metallic phonecase with the little stickers barely holding on. Itâs dead, he expected as much, but it helps with giving him a new purpose, an excuse to leave the kitchen.
Between the two of them, it takes a couple of hours to clean the entire place and get everything you need. Minho keeps pushing away guilt spirals and every time he looks at Bora without her noticing, it looks like sheâs doing the same.
He will need some time, they both will.
But then his phone dings with a new incoming message from his mom, but he knew it was you texting as he opened the notification to a new zoomed in picture of his daughterâs tiny little cute ear.
He needed some time, but heâd be okay. Because his daughter had tiny little cute ears. And because his daughterâs mom was you, who sent him a photo with a tiny little cute ear and a follow up text, I could eat her whole!!!!!!
--
To leave without your baby was probably the hardest thing you have ever done. You had been discharged, but she had to stay behind for a couple more days so the medical team could make sure she was completely healthy and ready to be taken care of by just the two of you. And of course that was a scary concept. Something both you and Minho had been grappling with for months. Once she was born, she was your responsibility. Forever. But even if it was scary, what was even scarier was being kept apart, even if just for 48 hours.
Not even that long, actually, since most of that time was spent with the two of you with her at the hospital. The car trips were not kind to your healing body, but you insisted on them. So every day Minho would drive the two of you to stay the few hours that the hospital allowed.
However, when the day came that you could all drive home together, as a family, Minho was a pile of nerves.
After the fifth horn blasted your way, you had enough, âMinho, please, for the love of godâ
âItâs not my fault theyâre impatient,â his knuckles were holding so tight around the steering wheel that they had turned white, âIâm not going any fasterâ
âIâm not telling you to floor the pedalâ, you plead from the backseat, where you have your hand gently placed on your babyâs stomach beside you, over the baby chair, âjust enough so the horns stop scaring me half to deathâ
You are also dreading the noise waking up the baby. If she whined even just a little bit, you were afraid Minho might collapse.
The speedometer barely increases. You follow a bead of sweat travel down Minhoâs forehead, his eyes still firmly on the road. He insisted on having the heater all the way up, just to be safe, he said, after checking she was bundled up enough to go the few meters from the hospital to the car. The higher temperature inside the car mixed with Minhoâs own body overheating on nervousness made it so his hair was already wet and sticking to his forehead.
âWeâre almost thereâ, he reassures himself, so quietly you barely understand him.
You make it in one piece, of course. Did it took you thrice as long? Sure, but Minho steps out of the car like a soldier coming back from battle with a victory, so you decide not to tease him about it. This time.
The apartment had been cleaned before you even stepped in yourself, first by Minho and Bora and then by Minhoâs mum, who insisted on dropping by before you were released from the hospital to stock up your fridge. Of course she ended up doing a lot more than just bringing you food, but you were so drained when you finally made it back the first time, you barely took notice of how spotless the place was.
Minho had brought in enough of his clothes to fill out all the empty space on your wardrobe. Youâd have to rearrange eventually, but for now you made it work. Itâs not as if you had a proper conversation about it, it just felt natural that heâd live with you for the time being.
Youâd work out everything else eventually, probably find a bigger place for the three of you. There were plenty of conversations to still be held but, for now, it felt like you had all the time in the world to get to them.
[2:51PM] kim seungmin: are you home yet?
[2:51PM] kim seungmin: photos?
It was not the first message like that youâve gotten that day. Maybe the most direct but still. All your friends had been spamming you for updates, some more than others. While still at the hospital, only Minhoâs parents were able to meet the baby. Felix, Bora, Jihye and Seoyun were allowed to see her through the maternity glass when they stopped by to visit, but everyone else was only getting photos and videos still.
The rest of Stray Kids had wrapped up the Japan promotions and were already back home, finishing some shootings from which Minho was allowed out. The general public was still unaware of everything. How his team had managed youâre not sure - but you were grateful nonetheless.
You went through the process of taking the baby out of the carrier and moving her to the bassinet. Every time you had to move her while she slept still felt like defusing a bomb. Itâs not even that she was much of a crier, she was the easiest baby to care for. But she was So Very Small, and even with all the drama around her birth, she carried some powerful lungs. The pairing of small+mighty was fitting for a child made by Minho and yourself, but also made you always nervous of setting her off.
As she settled on a sleeping position, you snapped a quick photo of her. You had imagined this moment for months, your perfect baby, cozy and safe at home. Maybe time had slipped by you again, as you didnât even hear Minho coming in before you felt his hand at your waist.
âHiâ, he whispered, bringing his body closer to you so he could have a better look at the bassinet too, caging you with his arms.
âI canât believe sheâs hereâ, was your reply.
âMe eitherâ
It was quiet while the two of you admired her. Minhoâs touch keeping you in place, his warmth rivaling the heater at the apartment. He had his face turned towards the sleepy little human but you allowed yourself a minute to take him in too. His expression soft, his eyes holding more love than you have ever though possible. Your phone buzzed again, demanding for your attention. You sneaked a little peck on Minhoâs cheek before checking the device.
[3:06PM] bang chan (skz leader): did Lino survive the drive home?
[3:06PM] bang chan (skz leader): I hope you are all alright!!!
[3:06PM] bang chan (skz leader): texting to let you know the statement should be up in a few hours, just need your final ok
[3:07PM] bang chan (skz leader): and also to ask for baby pictures
[3:07PM] bang chan (skz leader): please
You show Minho the texts, to which he rolls his eyes before grabbing his own phone and nudging your waist, signaling that the two of you should step out.
The company was set to release a statement regarding Minhoâs current absence from Stray Kids activities. Heâd still do the Music Shows and the comeback showcase in a couple of weeks, before a much needed vacation break for the entire group. The first announcement would only state that he had a family emergency that pulled him away for a few weeks - which, to all accounts, was the truth. Because of that, there would be some content coming up that did not include him, but heâd be back for Stray Kids upcoming comeback, the rollout to which had started happening a few days before, just as you were about to leave the hospital.
That piece had been long reviewed and approved, the final âokâ being more of a formality than anything else.
The second statement, however, was still a hot topic of conversation between the two of you.
Minho insisted that you didnât need to divulge anything. You insisted that if people were to find out anything somewhere else, itâd be much worse.
Of course you didnât want to pop your little bubble. Life was good with only your small inner circle aware that the world had forever changed with the coming of your daughter. But you loved Minho. And Minho loved performing. So you wanted to follow the companyâs suggestion, a simple announcement, stating that you were his girlfriend - which was also true, now, apparently - and that the two of you had welcomed a babygirl together. That Minho would take a break to enjoy time with his new family but would come back soon as normal. Asking for your privacy to be respected and for the fans to wish you and the baby well. You knew thereâd be backlash, the company had been preparing for it for months now. But the group was behind him and you were sure that, if you kept it simple and honest, not much could be held over him by the fans either.
On Minhoâs side, however, worry was eating him alive. He had so much of his personal life scrutinized already that the concept of putting you in any sort of harmâs way was a bit too much to his liking. If it was up to him, the three of you would disappear to a far away island, never to be seen again. And he told you as much, many times, only to wonder on the next breath how heâd be able to live without food delivery. So you knew he was only postponing the inevitable.
He made it to the couch first, making himself comfortable and opening his arms in an invitation. You took your time adjusting your weigh onto him, the stitches still uncomfortable and making you move with care. Once you settled, Minho pulled up the e-mail with the notice on his phone, silently reading through the first one and sending a quick ok back to his manager.
He eyed you for a minute before pulling up the second one. The two of you had gone over it many times already, with only one final details to be added.
âWhat are you afraid of?â you ask, once you realize heâs just staring mindlessly at the writing on the screen.
He pushes out all the air in his lungs before replying, âI donât know. Everything.â
âWhat is everything?â, his fingers start to run through your hair and you close your eyes, taking in his touch.
âYou receiving hateâ, he starts and you nod along, âpeople leaking your informationâ
âWe have prepared for thatâ, is your response, âthere are no traces of me online anymore, we went through a security verification, the company made me sign so many papers my hand has not recovered from the cramps yetâ
He laughs weakly.
âIâm still scared of it, something happeningâ
Me being away, is the part he doesnât voice but you hear anyway.
You push your body away from him so you could see his eyes, âMinho, baby,â
He makes no efforts to hide his smile and you take advantage of that.
âMy loveâ, you draw in closer.
âMy sweetâ, you kiss his cheek.
âCaringâ, his nose.
âDarlingâ, his lips.
âBaby daddyâ, he laughs.
âAnything can happen at any momentâ, you start, keeping your tone light, âwe can only try our best to make our now as okay as possible. And thatâs what we are doing. Iâm so sure about us, about you. And the you Iâm sure about is the one that belongs on the stage, just as much as the one that drives so slow when our daughter is in the car I might as well have walked home.â
He takes that in and you know heâs just being stubborn at this point. You had won this argument days ago.
âWhat if you grow tired of me?â you open your mouth to interrupt but he keeps going before you can, âand then you are forever tied to me by this very public thing?â
Itâs then that you bring your own phone up, unlocking it to reveal the picture of your daughter sleeping at her bassinet that you had just snapped. You shove the screen closer to his face, forces him to look at her.
âI think Iâm pretty tied to you forever alreadyâ, you try to keep the amusement out of your voice, but really, what was there to fear on that front?
You would be in Minhoâs life forever. That has always been the plan. Even before your baby. Before the kissing. Before you finished growing up at all. From that very first cold day you met him as a kid, you knew there was no life of yours without him in it.
He stares at the photo for a little bit longer before a sigh is purposely pushed out. So he unlocks his phone again, reading through the statement one final time before finally sending it back to the company, so they could put that into motion next.
âHappy?â he kisses your temple as you snuggle back into him.
âVeryâ, you hum, content, âI am worried about something, thoughâ
âA bit too late for thatâ, he draws back to search your face, but only finds that glint of mischief you reserve specially for him.
âIâm worried about Bun being a week old and still not having a proper nameâ, and at that he has to laugh. Fully.
âI thought we agreed weâll just call her Bun until sheâs old enough to decide on a name for herself?â
âChangbin has been texting me ideasâ, you relax back onto him, the movement of his fingers on your hair returning immediately, âIâm afraid that if we take too long he might take matters into his own handsâ
âBora has been doing the same with meâ, he admits, âand Iâm afraid she might have already started on some paperworkâ
You laugh with him until the sound dies off. Itâs quiet outside, the buzz of the early winter afternoon not reaching your windows. The sky is turning grey and you think first snow should come any day now.
A thought pops into your head at that but, as soon as you open your mind to voice it, a tiny cry breaks through.
Minho is at his feet in an instant, his body reacting to the sound on autopilot.
You let him through and waits as he goes to pick up your baby, maybe he will be able to put her back to sleep by himself, maybe he will bring her to you and the three of you will sit together until she quiets down. Youâll have to wait and see.
Maybe that should be your new life motto.
Just wait and see.
> a/n | Bad news is that we're oh so close to the end I can already taste it. Good news is that I have like three different WIPS that I'm so excited about I'll probably speed run the writing so I can get them to you soon hehe As always, thanks for reading, see you sooooon
> taglist is closed!
> genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut, pregnancy, the tiniest bit of angst
> warnings |Â explicit language, hospitals, pregnancy, mentions of medical issues, this one is mostly fluff MDNI.
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16. I canât hog you all to myself
âCongrats, dadâ, and the world halts to a stop.
Minho had been aimlessly spinning at the speed of light for the last however many hours, but it all turned frozen solid just as fast.
The doctorâs expression was solemn as she explained what had happened. He felt like his brain has turned into mush, but this was important, he needed to focus. He tried not to read too much into her body posture, the way she was wording her speech, but it was impossible. His entire system was in overdrive, he needed a nap. He needed to punch something. He needed to see you.
You had just gotten out of surgery and had been awake for most of it. You had seen your baby, because your baby was born.
His baby was born.
But she was in distress, there were fluids in her lungs and she did not cry on her way out. He listens as the doctor explains how your heart rate had spiked then and it made it so you started losing too much blood.
Minhoâs own chest was about to burst open.
The baby was a bit premature but her weigh was good and her heart strong. Of course she had a strong heart, she was half of you, after all.
Theyâd need to keep an eye on her because of the fluid on the lungs, but they were positive sheâd make a full recovery and be out of the hospital in no time. She was taken to the NICU so the doctor could keep a close eye on her, and theyâd keep him updated on when heâd be able to meet her.
You, however, had given them a bit more trouble. The medical team managed to get you stable, but you were still unconscious and under a heavy dose of anesthetics. They couldnât really access any further damage until you woke up, so everyone was now playing the waiting game. The doctor would keep monitoring you, but you were being taken to a private room soon, where Minho would be able to go in and see you if he wanted to.
As if there was even a chance he wouldnât.
He looked around the waiting room, at the people surrounding him. His parents were as close as they could be, his dadâs hand hovering over his back, not touching but making sure Minho knew they were there. Bora and Felix had both stood up, but were still by the chairs, quietly listening. Jihye was with them, but who knows when she had gotten there. One of his managers was also there, and a couple of security guards. Again, who knows for how long.
Minho had no idea how much time had passed from the moment he stepped out of the plane to the time he was following the nurse through a corridor, being led to you.
He felt the moment he was alone, his friends and family left behind. The comfort of their presence missed immediately. But you were right on the other side of the door, by yourself. The nurse guided him in.
You were lying on the bed, eyes closed, hair pulled up. You had so many cables connected to you that Minho couldnât fix his eyes on a single place. The monitor beeping beside the bed indicated how your hearts was beating. It was steady but he couldnât help but follow the lines as they moved, willing them to remain that way.
He took the few steps to reach you carefully, as if any harsh movement could make you disappear.
Itâs too much to see you like that. You looked pale and even though he could clearly see the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed on your own, it was eerie to see you so still. He noticed when the nurse brought him a chair. He took a sit but never allowed his eyes to drift from you.
And Minho stays there.
At some point he decided it was okay to take your hand, and did just that. Heâs so careful, afraid you might disintegrate under his touch. He uses both hands to hold onto you, tracing the shape of your fingers, the veins underneath your skin.
Itâs so quiet. Even with the beeps of the machines, the drip of the IV. He had hectic days, even before the last 24 hours, his time had been filled with people and music and screams and joy.
And now it was so quiet.
Being quiet beside you was not usually so quiet. Is was silent, yes, but never this quiet. There was always the drum of his heart, your gentle movements. He could hear when you were thinking too loud, and eventually you would make a sound, hum a song, say something silly. And the quiet would turn into laughter.
Quiet with you had always felt like the early hours of the day, when the sky was still dark but already showing traces of blue on the horizon. When the city was still asleep and you could barely hear to the first chirps of the birds. When the wind was enough to carry sounds from farther away, before the sounds nearby took all the attention for themselves. Quiet with you had always felt like the beginning of something.
Minho had no idea how long he sat there. Hoping, praying to a power he wasnât sure he believed in, willing for you to open your eyes. He hears when the door opens again, a nurse coming in to check on you - and also on him.
She doesnât tell him to move, so he doesnât. He canât even make himself pay attention to what she is doing, reading the charts, pressing buttons. He only really looks at her when she rests a gentle hand on his shoulder.
âDo you want to meet your daughter?â, is the question she poses.
And somehow, thatâs when he remembers he has a daughter now.
Minho has no idea where his mind has been, filled with thoughts of you, you, you. So much so he almost forgets the reason you were even there. And then he feels guilty and angry at himself and disappointed at his own brain. He looks at the nurse, then at you. He didnât want to leave you. You would never forgive him for leaving your little girl alone. He would never forgive himself for not thinking about her, just hours into this world and having spent all of that by herself.
So he nods. He stands up. He lays a gentle kiss to your forehead, careful not to disturb anything. He follows the nurse out, as she leads him through a different set of corridors, passing through multiple doors before the walls start to look more colorful.
The last door opens to a smaller room with a couple empty incubators. And right there, on the center, an occupied one.
He doesnât need anyone to tell him who that is.
Heâs glued to the white bassinet in a second, just watching.
Sheâs so small.
He knew babies were small, but have they always been this small?
She also had some cables and machines attached to her but, just like you, her chest was moving up and down, air filtering through her tiny lungs.
âWe have drained all the liquid, it should be a few hours before we let her try to breath on her own, but sheâs doing goodâ, the doctor appeared by their side, also looking at the tiny baby while laying out the information to him, âdo you want to touch her?â
He nods, not trusting his own voice. She helps him disinfect his hands, gives him a mask and brings a chair from somewhere behind him, before lifting the sturdy barrier of the incubator. And then she walks to the other side of the room, allowing him as much privacy as possible.
Minho didnât know what to do with himself so, instead of reaching out to his baby, he just looked at her for a long time, trying to memorize as much of her face as possible. The shape of her nose really did resemble his own, but there was something of you on her too. Every time he focused on a different part of her, he could see you, and then he could see himself, and then he saw her, in all her individuality. The mix of her parents taking the passenger seat as her own uniqueness was allowed to shine through.
She fusses and he almost loses all his ability to function. His hand goes to her on instinct, trying to calm her? Trying to calm himself? He runs over her cheek with a single finger and the baby turns her face towards him, as if seeking the contact. He allows his knuckles to touch her arm, a finger to find her hand. And she holds onto it.
The tears come fast after that. Quietly but merciless. He feels his mask getting wet but does nothing to stop the flow of water coming out of his eyes. His baby keeps holding onto him, he stills his hand and ignores the cramping of his arm at the position heâs holding. Heâs not letting go of her.
âHiâ, his voice comes hoarse but he wills himself to keep pushing the sound out.
He should introduce himself. He should apologize for leaving her alone for so long. He should tell her sheâs the prettiest thing he has ever seen. He does none of that, instead choosing something else entirely, an absolute truth no one could take away from him.
âI love youâ, he all but whispers, âI will always love youâ.
And maybe it was wishful thinking, but he could swear that her hold on his finger grew tighter. It only encouraged him further.
âMommy really wants to meet youâ, he goes on, âI really wanted to meet you, too. So you have to get very strong very fast so we can all be together, otherwise mommy will be very mad at me, I canât hog you all to myself.â
He hears something beep behind him and only then Minho remembers the doctor was still in the room too. She steps closer and carefully tells him he needed to go now. Before he can protest she assures him heâll be able to come back in a couple of hours, they just need to run some more tests on her. She asks if he wants her to take a picture of them and he nods yes, remembering his phone on his pocket for the first time in what felt like hours.
Once she hands his phone back, the very first picture of him and his daughter, he also snaps one of her tiny hand holding onto his finger, before fighting his every instinct and gently letting go. She fusses for a second and his heart breaks, but he knew he had to tell you all about her, so he needs to go back to you.
While following a different nurse back to your room, he quickly texts his parents and the memberâs group chat the photo of his babyâs hand. He canât be bothered to say anything else then, so he silences the phone and puts it back on his pants, avoiding the unavoidable question a while longer.
â
Mrs. Lee was not sure what she was expecting when she noticed the text from her son.
The doctor had told her that Minho had gone in to meet his daughter. She offered Mrs. Lee the chance to go see you while he was away and she took it gladly.
She spent a few minutes fussing over your unconscious figure. Adjusted your pillows, fixed your hair, held your hand. The doctor had to explain everything to her twice, she knew you were safe for now, just needed to wake up. So she told you about how Minho was already there, waiting for you, how he went in to meet your little baby, and that you needed to be up soon to join them.
Mrs. Lee couldnât wait to see you be a mom. She had seen so many different versions of you over the years, you went from a quiet girl to a passionate dancer to a dedicated student to a more than capable office worker. And all those versions had one thing in common: you always gave them your all.
So she expected youâd do just that as a mom.
It would be hard, of course it would, it always was. But sheâd be there for you, and so would her husband, her son, your friends. You had a whole village to help you out. And that village needed you with them. She did her best to translate that to you, to remind you of how wanted and loved you were. Because thatâs what mothers do.
They love and love and love. And hope that the person they are loving grow healthy and happy. Grow knowing how special they were. Mrs Lee regretted not making herself more clear about that. You were never just another stray Minho brought home, as he sometimes liked to joke about. You were her baby too, even if you came to her a little later in life. And now you had given her a granddaughter.
A granddaughter that she had just seen for the first time, through a little hand wrapped around a single finger.
She told you about it, a mess of words that meant nothing and everything. Something to encourage you to wake up fast. You needed to see it with your own eyes.
When a nurse came by to tell her she needed to go, that Minho was coming back to stay with you soon, she was slow to stand up and even slower to let go of your hand.
A motherâs heart split in half, torn between so many people she wanted to hold and protect. But doubling in size as well, to make sure thereâs always space for more.
â
Felix had waited for as long as he could.
He sat on the waiting room for over an hour after Minho went in. It felt like longer but also like just a blink of an eye. But to no avail, the doctor came back to give them a few updates, to say that Minho was sitting with you - and no one wanted to rush him.
So as his manager started to point out they should be going soon, Felix did his best to push his worries to the back of his mind, he had a shoot to attend, a couple of interviews to promote the brand he was representing.
During the shoot he kept taking little breaks to check his phone though, the only action able to ease his mind. The members had asked for updates a couple of times and Felix created a new group chat, adding Bora and Jihye, to help keep them all on the loop of what could be happening at the hospital.
He even added Minho to his emergency contacts, just in case. If he texted or called, no matter what, Felix would stop to check.
So it shouldnât have surprised him when, in the middle of an interview, with the cameras still rolling, his phone alerted him loudly of an incoming text. He had the decency to feign embarrassment as he explained himself to the crew around him, fishing his phone out of his pocket.
âIâm very sorry, I just have to check thisâ, he unlocked his phone quickly, seeing the photo Minho had sent to the usual Stray Kids group chat.
It was his hyungâs hand, one finger out towards the tiniest fist Felix had ever seen. The babyâs own fingers wrapped around her dadâs. He couldnât see the little girls face, just a little bit of her arm and the few wires attached to her. Even so, he felt a happiness beyond belief.
The interviewer cleared his throat and the sound brought Felix back to the moment. He sent a heart to the chat before storing his phone away again.
âA friend is in the hospital, I just got word from themâ, he explained himself, not wanting to seem rude and unprofessional, but not wanting to give anything else away. The presenter was understanding and the interview went on as it should have.
It would be over a month before it aired, but Felix was surprised when, later, that part remained in the final video uncut. Fans praised him for his care, the way he was able to balance out his professional and personal life.
The members used his face as a meme for months. He had all his walls down for a second, the exact moment his eye landed on the photograph. Felix had looked worried and happy and coy and in love, all in a matter of second, the quick succession of expressions a whole banquet for editors on the fandom to run with it.
Minho said nothing about it but, when he first met Felix after the interview was online, he held his friendâs hand wordlessly for a little bit longer than necessary.
â
Hyunjin was not one to cry easily, really.
As much as he was a soft, romantic, sensible guy, tears were rare to rise.
But as he checked his phone and saw the notification for a text from Minho, he could feel his throat closing even before he opened to see what it really was.
He prepared himself for every possible outcome. Good, bad, terrible and wonderful.
Before he could muster the courage, however, he heard Changbin gasp beside him.
Stray Kids were all at Jisungâs room at the hotel. Jeongin had fallen asleep and Chan had stepped out to fetch something from his room, but everyone else was just laying around, in various states of stand by. Their recording had been pushed back and their flight was only late the next day, but no one felt like going out.
They were desperate for news. Bora had, surprisingly to Hyunjin, been serious about keeping them in the loop as much as possible. But still, it didnât feel like enough.
So when Hyunjin looked at Changbin, he also noticed how every other awake person in the room was glued to their phones. Seungmin was nudging Jeongin awake, shoving the screen on his face. Hyunjin took that as incentive to finally look at his own device.
His eyes were wet before he even fully processed what he was feeling. Chan bursted through the doors.
âHave you seen it?â, he was panting, phone in hand as well.
âWhat is going on?â Jeongins voice was thick with sleep as he grabbed onto Seungminâs wrist to adjust the phone away from his face, finding his focus, âis thisâŠ?â
âHyungggg I wanna go homeâ, Jisung whines towards Chan, âwe should be thereâ
Their leader pats Jisungâs head lovingly. The big eyed boy worded what everyone else had been thinking, and even though Hyunjin knew they had to finish their job before they could fly back, he also felt the same. Everything else seemed pointless as he looked at the tiny humanâs hand.
Changbinâs hand landed on his shoulder and he looked up to see his hyung also had misty eyes.
âYa Hyunjin-ah, are you crying?â and the question made Hyunjin cry harder.
As he heard the other memberâs laugh in disbelief and also sniff alongside him, Hyunjin had set his mind on a new goal: to be the absolute best uncle to that little girl.
â
Bora didnât know what she was feeling anymore.
Powerless had been a constant answer. Sad, worried. Angry at herself. For all that talking of being a good dad-uncle-aunt for the little girl you were carrying, she really felt like she fucked up.
If only she had checked in earlier. If only she met you more frequently. If only she had memorized the code to your door. If only she had paid attention to those CPR classes.
If.
If.
If.
What if you never woke up?
What if something horrible happened to the baby?
She could feel Jihyeâs hand on her knee, a comfortable pat that had been going on for hours, but Bora couldnât focus her attention anywhere.
As tiredness took over, all her will to make light of the situation dissipated. Minhoâs mom had went in a few minutes ago, she had registered as much. Jihye had asked the nurse a couple of medical questions, using medical words Bora could not decipher by herself. Minhoâs dad had stepped away to fetch everyone some coffee with one of the bodyguards and there was another one quietly typing on his phone nearby.
Her own phone buzzed but she didnât check. Couldnât do it. She knew it was probably the new groupchat Felix had created, one or multiple of the members asking for updates. Updates she couldnât give them.
But then Jihyeâs hand slipped away and the lack of contact made her turn to look. Her friend was misty eyed starting at her own phone. And Bora was not good at feelings but she was surprisingly perceptive.
Jihye did not look sad or worried. She looked in awe.
And Bora dared to hope.
So she fetched her own phone, unlocking it to reveal the groupchat straight away. The buzzing kept coming in rapid succession, and she had to scroll back a bit to see what everyone else was reacting to.
A tiny hand wrapped around one of her oldest friendâs finger.
There was suddenly a surge of energy running through her body. All that nervous energy coming back in the best way possible.
Bora was still worried. Still angry at herself too, a little bit. But now she really was an aunt-uncle, and she decided the best she could do was try to be a good one.
As for the dad part? She guessed Minho had that one covered.
â
Your consciousness came back first in sounds.
There was beeping, a some sort of dripping going on on your left.
The consistent hum you associated with a heater turned on.
And, most importantly, Minhoâs voice. Going on and on about so many things you couldnât keep track.
Minho was a talkative man only once you got to know him. He could go on for hours when something peaked his interest. But it was not a usual thing. Not a daily occurrence. So it felt odd to hear him go on for so long.
He sounded happy and sad, all at once. Excited about some things, coy about others. Most of all, you could tell he was talking straight at you.
You started to map out your own body. You were laying down, your legs were tingling, something hurt but you couldnât point out where. You felt numb on most of your body. Someone was holding your hand.
Minho was holding your hand. You could tell as much.
You decided to focus on his touch, the way his fingers were tracing your palm, your wrist.
That helped with understanding. With remembering.
You have always loved how Minho held onto you. Casual, firm, careful. How heâd always run his hand down your arm before intertwining his fingers to yours. How heâd brush your hair back, tuck it behind your ears, free your shoulders from the strands so he could rest his head there, plant kisses too, later. How heâd be so gentle with your bump.
Your bump.
Your baby.
You had seen her, she was so tiny, she was screaming and then she was not and then there was a rush around you, a change on the was the doctors were speaking, their attention splitting between you and her.
Thatâs when everything went dark.
Minhoâs voice pulled you away from your panic. He was calm, so she must be alright too. Right?
You made yourself focus again, maybe if you tried to follow his voice?
There was something warm on your hand, and then something cold.
If only you could open your eyes.
It was so bright, even with your eyes closed, if felt like the light was right above you.
You want to complain about it, but something is blocking your throat.
Your eyes flutter open, itâs harsh and you have to blink fast as they well up with tears.
Now more of you hurt, you can tell something doesnât feel right, but everything is still too numb.
Minho calls for you, his face comes into focus.
He looks so pale. He had always sported a fairer complexion, but not like that. His hair is a mess, you want to help him fix it. You squeeze his hand and it draws a gasp out of him. Minho looks frightened, but you are on the ground, so thereâs nothing to be scared of. You want him to let go of your hand so you can wipe his eyes, but he keeps holding onto you tight.
He calls for a nurse and you want to scold him, you want it to be just the two of you, you have so much to tell him.
But then they are pulling Minho away, and you wanted your hands free but now they are so cold. And he looks so sad as heâs escorted out of the room. Your brain registers he keeps telling you something, but you are having trouble putting meaning the in the worlds.
It sounds like I love you.
> a/n | every comment on the last chapter was so kind!!!!! you guys are wonderful, it makes it hard to stick to a posting schedule because I just want to give you everythinggggg <3 as always, thank you for reading, see you soon!
> taglist is open!
15. Iâve been told hospital fashion is all the rave now
Maybe it wouldâve been better to call off work.
But you were not even a week away from your maternity leave, and already working reduced hours, so it felt unfair to the rest of your team to start lacking now.
So even if you had barely slept the night before, with the baby being overly active - completely ignoring her fatherâs request, by the way - you pulled yourself together and drove to the office.
And then, as soon as you got there, damn relentless braxton hicks. The first time you had felt them was so early in your pregnancy you couldnât even panic about the fake contractions, just flagging your doctor who advised you to stay hydrated and take the chance to practice your breathing.
You had already downed more water over the past hour than you had the past two days, and the deep breaths suddenly seemed to make the pain worse. So you tried to hyper focus on the task at hand and make through the day.
The worst thing is that it caught you off guard every. damn. time.
Youâd be perfecting a presentation and then have to double over on your chair when a new wave of pain hit.
A couple hours would go by and during a tea break youâd almost collapse with your knees giving out at the sudden discomfort.
It was only when Seoyun noticed you gripping your table a second time, knuckles going white, that she decided to take action.
âPlease just go home, honeyâ, she had brought you another glass of water, and stared you down until you drank it.
âItâs just braxton hicks, you know how it isâ, it was one of the many maternity talks the two of you had shared.
âYes, and I know theyâre a bitch, specially later onâ, she chuckled, and then discretely pointed towards one of the new internâs desk, âyouâre making the kids uncomfortableâ
You rolled your eyes, âitâs a completely normal thing and those kids are literally like, twenty-fiveâ
âRemember how you felt about pregnancy literally like a year ago?â you knew she was right, as you were one of the people that would visibly cringe whenever she overshared any weird pregnancy quirk. Good thing Seoyun was a better human than you were and had always took it lightly.
âDoes this feel like karma?â you frown your nose at her playfully.
âJust a little bitâ, she winked, âbut seriously, honey, go homeâ
You looked at the clock to see that you still had a couple more hours before you could leave, so you settled on a middle ground.
âIâll just finish this and Iâll go, promiseâ
âIâll come check on you!â
And she really did. Almost an hour later, you had just hit âsendâ on the e-mail with the presentation you had been working on, and she spawned out of nowhere by your side again, scaring you out of your train of thought.
âCan you drive home?â she asks, and you see she will not relent so you slowly start packing your things and turning off your work computer.
âYes, momâ, you sound annoyed but she knows you mean it with affection.
âAre you sure?â she had been watching you, noticing how you seemed to be in more and more pain as the times you had to stop to take a deep breath became more frequent.
âIâll drive slow and be very safeâ, and she seems convinced enough to let you go.
She was right though, the drive home proved a bit of a challenge but you managed, silently thanking Minho once again for allowing you to keep his car. Public transport wouldâve definitely killed you today.
The thought makes you want to text him but then you remember that he had back to back interviews all day, and then some recordings going into the evening, so instead you decide to take a shower, eat something, and resort to finding some silly videos later on to spam him, something he could watch during his small breaks to decompress, instead of making him worry about you some more.
A few hours pass by in a haze of discomfort before your phone notifies you of a massage again. You pick it up expecting it to be Minho and scold yourself at the disappointment you feel when it is not.
[6:51PM] bora-bora: managed to finish a bit early!
[6:51PM] bora-bora: can I pick you up or do you need a little bit more time?
Scrolling a little back on the text thread youâre reminded of how you had agreed to have dinner out with her today, the plan completely slipping your mind. You look at the time and see that itâs not even 7PM yet and you are already drained, the thought of changing again to go out gives you an immediate headache. But then you feel bad, Bora had been trying to schedule something just the two of you for a little while, but something always came up. So try to settle for a middle ground;
[6:53PM] y/n: do you think we can stay in?
[6:53PM] y/n: Iâve been home for a while and refuse to put on shoes again
[6:54PM] bora-bora: should i pick up some take away?
You sigh in relief.
[6:54PM] y/n: Iâll make us some stew
[6:55PM] y/n: maybe grab some side dishes?
[6:55PM] bora-bora: got it momma
[6:55PM] bora-bora: be there in 20
You groan as you get up from your spot on the couch to start cooking. You couldâve asked her to pick you a whole meal but youâve been craving the stew Minhoâs mum used to make when the two of you were kids and feeling a bit poorly. So you decide to brave your way around the kitchen for the sake of your babyâs specific craving.
The pain starts hitting you again as youâre slicing some vegetables. This time it feels sharper, one of your hands holding your belly, hoping that the baby could sense it and calm down. Please calm down. It works and you dare feel relief before the ache comes back, tenfold. The hand not on your belly folds itself into a fist, not realizing what it grabs onto until itâs too late. You barely have time to notice that the sting of pain has switched places before you see the blood. Your fingers slowly letting go of the knife blade you accidentally closed them around.
The cuts are not too deep but there is so much blood.
You move away from the counter, the knife dropping and hitting the floor. Your back hits your kitchen table, your gaze recklessly trying to access what to pay attention to first when the sound of glass breaking hits your ears. The cup was where you had last left it, on the very corner of the table. It promptly felt to the ground, shards spreading everywhere.
You hold your bleeding hand onto yourself, trying to keep the red from spreading, but as you reach across to pick up your phone and ask for help, the pain on your stomach hits again. Your knees give out and you hit the floor with a soundless gasp. The shreds of glass that pierces your skin no longer enough to distract you from the pain.
Your mind screams at you and it takes the last of your strength to raise your arm, trying to bring your phone closer to you, only to find your good hand empty, the device must have slipped away with your fall. Another wave of sharp pain hits you, making you curl onto yourself on the floor, something wet under your cheek but your vision has gone blurry.
Your phone dings somewhere that sounds very far away, and thatâs your last memory before darkness welcomes you with open arms.
â
Bora has never been good with feelings.
So when Minho reached out to ask her what she thought about the relationship between him and you, all she could do was snicker, hit him in the head, and tell him it was none of her business and he better not make it so.
You kept her roughly on the loop, she has been your friend for long enough to be able to read between the line of what you shared willingly, never prying too much on what she could tell you were not ready to face yourself.
Before Minho left for Japan he made Bora promise sheâd check in with you - as if she needed him to remind her. She held her tongue that time, seeing how genuinely on edge he seemed about leaving you alone so far into the pregnancy, and promised Minho she would drop by to annoy you as much as possible. But, unbeknownst to her, the days slipped by and now it had been almost two weeks since you were last together.
She messaged, of course she did, but she was not being as good of a friend as she had told herself she would be.
So tonight, once she got you to agree to go out for dinner so she could properly see you, she planned on broaching the whole feelings conversation with you. It would not be long before Bun was around and she was nothing if not committed to the role of favorite aunt-uncle-dad, whatever the kid needed. And as favorite aunt-uncle-dad, she needed both you and Minho to stop postponing a conversation you didnât even really need to have. The two of you clearly belonged together - and always have. You just needed to stop being so hard headed, stop using the baby as an excuse to not give into a lifetime of being disgustingly in love.
She was willing to suffer the role of a third wheel. She would not do it quietly, but for the sake of your happiness she would endure it.
So as she stood outside your door, a plastic bag of warm goodies on one hand, phone open on your messages waiting for a reply, she was going through all the possible ways she could start the conversation.
Hello best friend, good to see you best friend, hello unborn child I love so dearly, how about we take the night to start planning how you should propose to our other dumb best friend? Was what she was leaning towards. But for that you needed to open the damn door.
[7:26PM] bora-bora: hellooooo??
[7:28PM] bora-bora: i refuse to eat reheated food
[7:31PM] bora-bora: are you taking a shit?
[7:35PM] bora-bora: did you fall asleep?
[7:35PM] bora-bora: i swear to god if you fell asleepâŠ
She was starting to feel deflated and it might have started as a joke but the food really was going cold. Bora rings the buzzer again to no avail, at the same time as she presses the button to call you. She hears your ringtone on the other side of your door, which makes a little metaphorical siren turn on inside her head.
âY/n? Open up please?â, she pounds on the door, but not a sound comes from inside now that the phone had quit ringing.
She searches through your old text messages, trying to find the code to unlock the door. You had sent it a hundred times but Bora never seemed to memorize it.
âIâm coming in, okay?â, she yells at the wooden door while punching in the numbers.
Bora has never been good at feelings, but as she took in the sight of you passed out on the floor, she knew what panic felt like.
She doesnât remember screaming, but she think she did, as you seemed to react to something. She doesnât remember walking in or kneeling down, but she must have, because her hands were on you and they were red, where was the red coming from? She doesnât remember typing the emergency number on her phone, but she must have because she was giving out your address to a very kind person on the other side of the line, who kept asking her question she didnât know the answer to. She doesnât remember grabbing a towel but the instructions from the voice on the phone mustâve register because she was holding onto your bloody arm and doing her best to cover the wounds.
Your eyes fluttered open only for you to shut them tight again as a loud scream ripped out of your throat.
Bora doesnât remember holding onto you but she mustâve, as when the help finally got there they had to pry her limbs away from you. She doesnât remember the ride to the hospital, but somehow she could remember every single piece of information you ever laid out to her regarding your pregnancy. And thatâs when her mind started working again.
As Bora sat on the waiting room, blouse stained in dry blood, she stared at her own phone. They had tried calling Minho. She had tried calling Minho. No one could get through to him and, although she had contacted his parents already - and they were on their way, they couldnât reach him either. She couldâve asked his mom for the contact of a manager, but the woman seemed so distraught Bora didnât like the idea of asking her to do anything but get to the hospital.
But she needed to keep trying, because right that moment, Bora felt like a failliure.
So she scrolled through her contacts, trying to find anyone, anyone that could get through to him.
She had Hyunjinâs number from when they last worked together - they didnât really get along at all, some might even say there was a little bit of a rivalry there. But she could only hope that him knowing her distaste for him was enough to compel him to pick up the fucking phone.
â
Hyunjin was a sensible guy.
He worked hard on himself and achieved most of what he set his mind to.
So he didnât really like being scrutinized over nothing, which was how most of his conversations with Bora ended. He only still had her contact by chance, courtesy of a group chat Minho had made months prior so that they could work on parts of the comeback choreography together.
Itâs not as if they texted at all. He was also quite vocal to his friends about how he didnât find Boraâs sense of humor that funny. So as his phone lit up, his first instinct was to refuse the call.
He was taking his sweet time getting ready, they had a pre-recording later in the day and, while Chan and Minho took care of some interviews on behalf of the whole group, the younger members had planned on going out to do some shopping before having to go to the studio.
And Hyunjin was actually excited about visiting a couple stores Jeongin had been raving about. And his hair looked particularly good that day. And his new embassadorship was being announced in less then 24h. And theyâd soon be going back home and he would go on vacation with his parents. And he was feeling good, so he really didnât want to pick up the phone.
Because why the hell would Bora even call him?
No, really, why would she call him?
The phone stopped ringing. A minute went by. Hyunjin was about to get back to what he was doing - taking mirror selfies -, as it started again.
His curiosity got the best of him. So he picked up.
âoh thank godâ, and Hyunjin really didnât like Bora but he was a sensible guy. And as a sensible guy, he was good at picking up on the distress of her voice, the relief that mixed with the panic.
âWhatâs wrong?â
âI canât reach Minhoâ, the choreographer said, and she sounded so unlike herself he took the phone away from his ear to make sure he had the right person, before he could register what her reply could even mean.
âIs it y/n?â, he hoped it wasnât.
âWeâre at the hospitalâ, Bora sounded small, âI donât know what to doâ
And Hyunjin was a sensible guy, so as he heard her hiccup on the other side of the line, the confidence she usually carried being completely stripped away, Hyunjin felt the urge to comfort her, and so he did.
And because Hyunjin was also a capable guy, who achieved most of what he set his mind to, he told Bora he would find Minho and they would figure it out and it would all be okay, no need to worry at all.
Like much of what Hyunjin set his mind to achieve, it took some work. First, calling Minhoâs mom to get a better sense of the situation. She was not at the hospital yet, but Bora had managed to tell her more than she did him, so he now knew which hospital and a general sense of the situation. Mrs. Leeâs voice sounded strained, and Mr. Lee had to pipe in for some of the details while driving, but they were almost there, which was already a relief.
Next, to contact their managers. He probably told them more than he shouldâve, and hoped Minho and you could forgive him later for the overshare of personal details, but he needed to make sure they knew how serious it was. He also made it a point to let them know he was coming with, there was no way he trusted anyone to talk to Minho, except maybe Chan, who was also, unfortunately, unreachable.
Then, he texted Felix. Because Felix was flying back home early anyway. So he called another manager, and that turned into one more call to one more manager, but as he sat on the back of the car he had a pretty good plan laid out in front of him. Flights were being arranged, the necessary people were on the loop, Minhoâs parents had made it onto the hospital and Bora had gone into the room with them to see you. As Hyunjinâs car pulls up where the other memberâs recording is happening, he knows what he needs to say to Minho.
â
Minho liked to think of himself as a pretty level-headed guy.
It took a lot to make him feel unbalanced. And okay, recent events did shake him up a bit, sometimes the world felt tilted for a little while. But it always went back to its place fairly fast. He was adaptable. Good at riding the waves of whatever life threw at him. He kept routines and habits without much thought but was just as good with handling sudden changes.
He worked out, kept a healthy diet, watched comfort shows on his free time and texted you good morning every day. When he knew he would not be able to check his phone for a while, he made sure to let you know.
So, like usual, the last thing Minho did before stepping out of the waiting room was to check your location.
Your most recent message had been sent early morning, and the silence since was bothersome but not unknown of. By lunch time you usually had sent him at least a handful of silly animal videos he could watch during his break. He held back his disappointment at the lack of a curated selection from you but he didnât have much time anyway and, as he checked and saw that you were at home already, he calmed down, assuming that for once you must have listened to Seoyun and got off work a bit earlier.
So for the next who knows how many hours he focused on doing his job. Japanese now came easy for him and with Chan by his side, the recordings went smoothly. He could even say he had fun. He was wrapping up one of the last schedules for the day, with only the pre-recording with the whole group left before they could finally go back to the hotel and relax.
They were supposed to meet at a different location, but it wasnât unheard of for the members to stop by and ride together, so at first, when Minho spotted Hyunjin next to their manager, he didnât think much of it.
Chan seemed to pick up on something being wrong faster then him, taking the lead in reaching the younger member. It was only when Hyunjin focused remained on Minho instead of moving to their approaching leader that he knew something was off.
âHyung have you checked your phone?â, Hyunjin asks, instead of a normal civilized âhelloâ.
Minho shakes his head because no, he had not. His phone was left at the waiting room, plugged into a wall of chords so it could charge right on top of Chanâs trusted laptop.
And then Hyunjinâs mouth kept moving but Minho started to question every belief he ever had on himself.
Because you were at the hospital and they didnât know much but he should get on a plane and go back as soon as possible - which did not sound good. It sounded, in fact, very bad. It sounded like there was something definitely wrong and he was too far away to do anything about it. And it felt very bad, too. It felt like the ground was disappearing from underneath him. It felt like the world had not only tilted, but detached completely from where it should be, aimlessly spinning very fast on its way out of the solar system.
And Minho had always thought of himself as a very level-headed person, but with the world spinning out of control he couldnât really tell where the level even was, and he could only hope his head was still attached to the rest of his body.
His ears rang and he could barely make out how the rest of the conversation played out. Chan asked questions that Hyunjin and their manager took turns responding. At some point the leaderâs face was close enough to his own that Minho couldnât help but make himself focus enough to understand what his friend was laying out for him.
âHyunjin talked to your parents, theyâre already at the hospitalâ, is the first part that comes through, he misses the next part while his mind whirls, Minho couldnât even tell if he was feeling any relief at the first bit of information, too distracted by the thoughts of how every single nightmare he had over the past few months came crashing down at once. When he regained focus, he caught only the very last part of what his leader was saying, âyouâre on the next flight backâ.
He had no idea if his bags had been packed for him or not. He was still on the clothes he wore for the recording. They were casual enough to not draw any attention but he found himself thinking heâd much rather have his own clothes back, something with a hood he could hide inside of.
Minho knew you didnât have your phone with you. Someone had told him that. He couldnât remember who or why, but he knew it to be true. That did not stop him from checking your location again and again. It said you were at home. You shouldâve been at home.
And Minho prided himself in having quick reactions, a good sense of the world around him, his instincts rarely failed him.
But right then Minho was doubting his every thought, his mind felt scattered like never before and he did not know it was possible to worry so much about another human being. It was the type of worry that felt pathetic and confusing. The type you feel when you understand something but desperately doesnât want to.
So he shakes off his pride and admits that this time he was way over his head, there was no point trying to make sense of left and right, up and down. All he knew was forward and every direction pointed him towards you.
Before he knew it, heâs checked in, Felix beside him. When had the younger member appeared? How much did he know?
Enough, it seemed, as his freckled friend waves goodbye to his manager and guides Minho into the plane, sitting side by side and waiting for it to depart.
Felixâs hand reaches for him and he takes it, the closest thing to comfort he will be feeling for the next few hours, disconnected from the rest of the world.
â
Felix was pretty good at keeping track of time.
Heâs a busy person with many interests, he learned pretty fast that he needed to become best friends with his calendar if he wanted to accomplish everything he wished to.
He hated when a shoot ran too long, when an appointment was postponed, when plans changed last minute. He wasnât always like this though, he had to teach himself diligence. His favorite thing, however, was to be able to carve time out of his schedules to not have any plans.
It was a bit ironic, how he had to plan his unplanned days, but he made it work.
So that entire morning he was pretty happy. He woke up late, ordered breakfast to his room, even thought it was already past noon, and gamed with his friends for a couple of hours. Jeongin had texted him the night before about going out to shop with some of the other members and Felix was considering saying yes. His manager had texted him about how the groupâs pre-recording might be postponed and he didnât need to know why to feel happy about it. That way he could go shopping and have dinner out before his flight. Wonderful news.
Felix took a long shower before packing his bags, he was wearing something that made him feel comfortable but was also good enough if he needed to go to the airport straight away. If he didnât need to go back to the hotel to change, it meant another half an hour of hanging out with his friends.
When Hyunjinâs text came through, he expected it would be the location of where theyâd be going, knowing his friend might have left hours early to explore, as he usually liked to do. But, weirdly enough, Hyunjin was asking about Felixâs itinerary for later in the day.
And that was weird because, contrary to Felix, Hyunjin was really bad at keeping track of time. So why would he even care about Felixâs schedule when he could barely keep up with his own? And thatâs exactly what he replied, making fun of his friend instead of giving him a straight answer.
Because Felix was also pretty good at lifting his memberâs moods, keeping the atmosphere warm, and he knew which buttons to press with each one. Heâd double down on the skinship with Jisung, flirt with Changbin, tease Hyunjin.
Minho might need to fly out with you, is the reply he got, and that was not how it usually went. Usually Hyunjin would whine, heâd ask the same question again, heâd curse at Felix maybe a couple of times before theyâd actually get to the point. But before Felix could adjust, he got a call from his manager, and the situation was laid out for him.
So you were at the hospital. Hyunjin was on the way to let Minho know. A flight had been booked but they couldnât get any extra seats, so it would just be Felix and his - probably - freaked out hyung. Heâd have time to go to the hospital with Minho, but should probably keep his later schedule, as he was the ambassador for the brand and the company didnât want to risk people knowing what was happening yet.
Felix looked at the clock, he had enough time to go into Minhoâs room and pack his things. Maybe even enough time to stop by Changbinâs room to help relay the information.
So he sprinted into action and, by the time the car had to leave for the airport, all bags were packed, all members informed, and Felix had adjusted his mindset to face whatever mood he found Minho in.
And good thing that he did, as he had never seen Minho act like that. Everything had to be said twice for him to understand, Felix all but dragged him along through the airport, carrying both their bags and all of Minhoâs documents. He felt a deep relief when they finally made it to their seats, side by side. Felix had figured that this time there were no buttons he could press to lift his hyungâs mood.
So Felix offered his hand, and Minho took it. And they sat like that for the few hours spent above the clouds.
Felix was pretty good at keeping track of time, so it shouldnât have surprised him when the stuarts announced they were about to land. Minhoâs hand had long ago gone clammy, but his fingers kept their cool. Felix never let go. They were allowed out of the plane first, one of those small perks of traveling under their companyâs name. As they walked out, still hand in hand, Felix sees Minho fish his phone out of his pocket. And he sees how his friend hesitates.
Because they were unreachable for a few hours, and if even Felix had lost track of time by thinking of what could be happening to you, he couldnât even fathom the places Minhoâs mind had wondered to. So he untangled their fingers for the sake of taking the otherâs phone.
Felix switches it on and waits while it loads. A manager appears and signals where they should go. They walk out of the airport unnoticed while all Felix feels is the vibrations of Minhoâs phone. They havenât looked yet.
When theyâre finally safe inside the car, he hands the device back to Minho who, after one singular long breath in, unlocks it.
There are too many missed calls, too many messages. Felix notices how Minho freezes, so he takes the phone again and finds Mrs. Leeâs contact.
The messages were straight to the point, what was happening, where Minho should go to. The messages were also reassuring. Y/n is awake. It will all be alright. Iâll be with her the entire time. Everything youâd expect out of the woman that raised Minho, practicality mixed with love. He read everything out lout to his hyung, while also checking the carâs GPS, making mental calculations of how soon they could be at the hospital, how long since the updates had stopped coming.
The last message was a video. He pressed play but turned the screen to Minho straight away.
The man was so quiet Felix doubted he was breathing at all.
When Minho gasped, Felix knew for sure he had not been breathing. Minho pressed play on the video again, and this time Felix leaned in to watch it with him.
It was you on the hospital bed. Face puffy and hair up. You were wearing the typical hospital blue scrubs, your bump pressing against the fabric. Your right hand and arm were bandaged and there was a small cut on the top of your cheek, but you were smiling nonetheless.
âHey, I know this is a bit scary but weâre okayâ, you started, looking straight at the camera, âBun just couldnât stay away from dad any longer and had to drag you back in a rushâ.
You turned your attention to someone behind the camera, the video tilting as Minhoâs mum mumbled something to whoever was interrupting the two of you. Felix sees you nod decisively before the angle is readjusted and youâre back in focus.
âIâll see you soon, okay?â, and you looked and sounded tired, but there was no space for doubt in the way you held yourself, your hand going over your belly protectively, as if to make a point, âwe both willâ.
The video ended, only for Minho to press play again, but by then they were only three minutes away from the hospital, and Felix knew that by the time the video ended again they would have arrived.
And Felix had always been good at keeping track of time, so it only took them a couple of minutes between parking and getting in, maybe another minute or so waiting for the elevator. It took them exactly four minutes to go over their details at the reception desk, and Felix took the lead as Minho anxiously switched his weight from one feet to the other beside him. But as they were allowed into the waiting hall, it only took Minho twenty seconds to be engulfed by his parentâs arms.
Felixâs eyes found Bora, sitting quietly at a corner, and he went to her. Minho needed time with his mom and the girl was not looking too good.
âYou look like shitâ, he says, as he takes the space besides her, and she chuckles humorlessly.
âDonât you have a supermodel thing to be at?â, was her retort, because Felix knew what buttons to push to lighten the load, and Bora looked like she needed a little normalcy - and maybe someone to serve as a punching bag.
âI donât think theyâre up to date with the latest trendsâ, he keeps his voice higher than usual, light, airy, a bit sarcastic even. But he extends his hand again, and Bora takes it, âIâve been told hospital fashion is all the rave nowâ.
Bora squeezes his hand and sheâs about to say something back when the doctor walks in.
Felix might be good at warming the mood. And he might be pretty good at keeping time. But when it came down to that moment, everything felt cold and still.
â
Mrs. Lee had always wanted to be a mom.
She was lucky with Minho, he came to her quickly after her marriage. He was an easy pregnancy and an even easier baby. She was not blessed with more kids of her own, but that never really bothered her. She had all she needed in her cheeky smiley boy.
When she met you though, she felt as if you were meant to be hers too.
Minho had always made friends easy, he didnât care much about what other people thought of him and that, somehow, worked. Every now and then heâd mention a friend he was a little closer with, but the day he came home after first meeting you was different.
Mrs. Lee knew her son very well. He was competitive but kind hearted. So when all he could talk about during dinner was this new girl at his dance academy, who had just started but was clearly one of the best in class, she knew heâd either find himself an enemy or a friend for life. Lucky for her, he chose the latter.
When she had first met you, you were a shy little thing. But then she heard you and Minho bickering from the other room and she knew you had some heat to you. You won over her husband quickly as well, and soon the warning heâd give Minho when their son was going out started to include a âand make sure to look after y/nâ.
Mrs. Lee had always wanted to be a mom, and maybe thatâs the reason she found it so easy to spot the unwilling mothers around her. Your own mom was not a bad person, she was just someone who got caught in a life she never envisioned for herself. So as soon as you were old enough to look after yourself, she felt like her job was done. And Mrs. Lee tried not to judge her for that, but every night you came to her home toeing behind Minho, sheâd wordlessly add another plate for you, and couldnât help but wonder who would not want such a sweet kid around?
When she got the first call from Bora, she was about to put the bread in the oven. You had mentioned youâve been craving it a few days back and she had just found the time to bake some for you. Her husband had helped with shaping the little buns, and they had even joked around the little nickname Minho had given to their granddaughter.
They had to call a neighbor to check if they remembered to turn off the stove. Traffic was not too bad and Mr. Lee was a good driver, but the few minutes spent driving to the hospital felt like the longest of her life.
She was a practical woman, she had all your medical information on hand, she had texted Minho as much as she felt appropriate, walking the line of offering all the information available to her but also nothing that could make him panic. She knew how he felt about being away, her heart hurt for him.
By the time she was allowed into your room, hand in hand with Bora, you were awake and under medication that made the pain bearable. She had wiped all of her worried tears away and was completely focused and helping you not to freak out.
The information went over your head, but not hers. You knew youâd have to go for a cesarian, you knew you had been in active labor for a few hours - Braxton Hicks masking when the real thing had started. But you were yet to have your water break and although the babyâs heartbeat was still strong, it was also too fast - which meant that she was in distress. Hence the emergency cesarian, that you were now being prepped to endure. That last part you were having trouble comprehending and Mrs Lee could not bring herself to point out how serious the situation could turn.
So she helped you record a video to send her son, some reassurance she knew heâd need. She helped you walk around and held your hand when you were in pain. When it was time to go in for the surgery sheâd thought sheâd be able to go in, and was devastated when the doctor told her she couldnât, not this time. You had looked at her with your big eyes for a second, scared. So so so scared. Like she hadnât seen it since you were a kid, afraid of heights just like her own child.
But you masked it immediately. She couldnât even comfort you before you were the one comforting her.
âIt will be fineâ, you squeezed her hand, âweâll be right backâ.
And of course you would, you had to.
For her sake, for her husbandâs sake, for her sonâs sake.
The waiting room is quiet, the hospital mostly empty. She hears the minute Minho steps in, the way his feet hit the ground, closer to a run than a walk, reminds her of when he got home from school excited to see what she was cooking.
Mrs. Lee stands up and opens her arms, her husband following suit. Minho crashes into them as he hadnât in years. Suddenly she had her little boy in her arms, like she would whenever he had a bad dream as a kid, too scared of the dark to be alone in his room. Or scraped his knees on the playground, wanting to play hard with the bigger kids. Or when he was left out of the best part of the choreography for a dance competition he really wanted to be included in. She was holding together all the versions of him she raised.
Mr. Lee also had his arms around them, holding each other so tight. Still it felt too loose. There was space for more there. For the little girl alone inside, scared and hurt. For the little joy she was busy bringing into the world.
Minho did not cry. He rarely did. But she could tell his breathing was labored, he was on the verge of breaking down, so she held him even closer, making sure to keep all his pieces in place. It was all she could do.
She had no idea of how long they were standing there, holding each other. But then the doctor came, a tired look on her face, indecipherable on what it could mean. Her boy stepped away, turned to the doctor, mouth half open. She knew that expression, he was trying to find where to begin his questioning. He didnât need to.
âCongrats, dadâ, the woman says before any suspense can build, taking them out of their misery.
And Mrs. Lee had always wanted to be a mom, but she might be even more excited about being a grandma.
> a/n | guys weâre reaching final stretch territory đ«Ł howâs everyone feeling about it?? This is the beginning of the final chapter of my original planned chapters hehe As always, thanks for reading, see you sooooon
> taglist is closed!
> genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut, pregnancy, the tiniest bit of angst
> warnings |Â explicit language, drinking, MDNI.
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> A/N |Â the intermissions were supposed to be short little things but I got carried away with this one lol
14. intermission. autumn
If someone had told Minho a year ago that heâd have you crying on the way home, heart aching over the idea of being apart for a couple of weeks, he wouldâve laughed at their faces - and then proceed to call you and tell you all about it.
But as it was, he was still recuperating from the sight of your tears as you hugged him goodbye when his phone rang.
y/n is calling you on facetimeâŠ
âDid I forget something in the car?â, he picks up straight away, at the cue to check in his bags, you could spot a well known manager just behind him on your screen.
âI miss youâ
âYou literally just dropped me offâ, he knows you canât see his mouth behind the mask heâs wearing, but he smirks anyway, a reflex in trying to lighten your mood.
âI knowâ, you pout, he melts.
âOh baby, Iâll be back very soonâ, he tries, but you keep staring at him, not sure of what to say next, so he goes on, âlet me speak to Bunâ
Your pout intensifies but you lower your phone so that itâs level to your bump.
âHey Bun, itâs dadâ, Minho starts, and your pout fights to stay a pout and not turn into a smile, âyou have to be good to your mom now, Iâll be back very soon to take care of you two and Iâll miss you a lot, but donât go dancing too hard while Iâm away, okay? You have to take care or her for me.â
He had to bring the phone closer to his face, trying to avoid the people around him, but somewhere to his left he can hear Hyunjin already teasing him - even if he canât really make out the words, too focused on delivering his speech to Bun. To you.
He turns to curse Hyunjin off but ends up not paying attention to his other side, where Felix now leans in, peaking at the screen.
âHi noona!â
âHi Lixâ
âGo away, let me say goodbyeâ, Minho tries shoving him away, truly annoyed at the double attack.
âNo wait wait, let me talk to Yongbokâ, your voice comes to his rescue and Minho rolls his eyes but gives in as the younger boy perches on his shoulder to stay on camera, âdonât let him overdo himself, please?â
âYou got it, noonaâ, Felix winks and Minho can feel his ears starting to burn.
âI donât need a babysitterâ, he murmurs.
âNeither do I and still youâre asking Bun to look after meâ, you tease, but his ears grow redder and he drops the teasing tone.
Because you called her Bun. And the words stumble out before he can stop them.
âYou called her Bunâ
âIf you canât fight themâŠâ you smile at him and he wants to say so much more, but then thereâs a manager waving him in and he know heâs about to be surrounded by photographers and fans alike, and itâs far from ideal for you to still be at his screen.
So as much as it pains him, he says a final goodbye, jots down a mental note to bring back the nickname talk with you later and forces himself to face the airport run he has to go through. Part of the job, they say.
As they board the plane, Minho has grown quiet.
The other members donât pay it much attention, getting used to the way his moods change quickly lately. Seungmin has made it a habit to tease him by saying it looked like Minho was the one with the crazy pregnancy hormones, given his emotional ups and downs.
Chan and, surprisingly, Hyunjin, had been quiet supporters - to balance out Changbinâs loudness. Theyâd give him pats on the back whenever they could tell their dance leader started to feel overwhelmed, and were always there to serve as buffers with the company whenever they got dragged into another PR meeting.
This time, however, the one to pull him out of his thoughts was Jeongin.
Their seats were side by side and, although Minhoâs ticket said he had the window, the maknae traded with him without a single word exchange. It was a quick flight, in a mere few hours theyâd be thrown into promotions again, where he knew heâd have to lead a lot, being one of the member who could better speak the language.
Theyâd have a few performances, multiple interviews and recordings, a few brand and magazine photoshoots and rehearsals, on top of everything, to prepare for an upcoming award show. It would be an intense few weeks with a lot to think about, but Minho could not bring himself to worry about any of that, the old fear of being away from you creeping back in.
âYa, hyung, have you played this one?â Jeongin nudges him, turning the Nintendo screen his way. It looked like a silly two player game, and the invitation was implied.
Minho considers it for a moment, before accepting the other controller and helping the younger member balance out the screen on the fold out table.
They play round after round for half the plane ride, before Minho even realizes that time has slipped his mind. The distraction working.
âIâm tired of winningâ, Minho teases, a carefree smile slipping out.
âWhoâs even keeping track?â Jeongin puffs, and Minho ruffles the boyâs hair instead of replying, handing back his controller. Truth be told, he was probably losing, but knew his friend would not correct him.
They fall silent for a beat while Jeongin puts away the gaming device. Minhoâs mind starts drifting again.
Heâd be back in three weeks.
That gives him a month before your due date.
A month to talk things through, like adults.
Adults who will be raising a child together, somehow.
And if at first he was scared, now he was terrified. It felt like the roles had switched. The more you knew and prepared, the calmer you felt. He would marvel at how unbothered you were about most of the stuff the doctor threw at you. Yeah, you had some trouble with the resting part. Also with the food-cooking-eating-healthy part. But everything else you took in stride. You attended birthing classes with his mom, with Bora, even with your work friend that one time. You washed every new piece of clothing that Bun was gifted, putting them alway neatly on the nursery. You seemed ready, completely on top of everything regarding the babyâs arrival.
Minho, on the other hand, felt like a mess. If at first he was confident he could handle everything, the more he knew, the scarier it felt.
He didnât want to get stuff for the dorm, as he preferred Bun to have a single room with everything she deserved. He expected to spend most of his time at your place anyway, with half of his own clothing already being there. But you never talked about it. What if you wanted some privacy every now and then? What if he had to take Bun overnight? Another mental note, another conversation to be had.
Minho knew he had his break coming up, and the company gave him a couple of months of paternity leave on top of that, but itâs not like it felt like enough. He had to travel so much, would he be able to come back as frequently as he liked? Would you be able to travel with him? Would you want to? You would have more time off work, of course, but Bun would be so small, he had no idea when it would be safe for her to hop on a plane like he constantly did so casually.
His heart had picked up its pace inside his chest, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts in quick succession.
âHave you watched this one?â Jeongin was the one to pull him out of his thoughts again, pointing to an american film on the screen that Minho had indeed watched before. He hums his acknowledgement but the boy pokes further, âbut is it any good?â
âItâs kind of sadâ Minho relents.
âOk, donât want thatâ, the younger clicks away to keep scrolling through his options.
The silence starts to set again, Minho is about to dive deeper into his worries one more time when Jeongin exhales loudly, pulling his attention once more.
âYou know it will all work out, right?â Jeongin starts, not turning to make eye contact.
âWhat do you mean?â is Minhoâs reply, genuinely confused.
âI can hear you overthinking, hyungâ, he finally turns his body towards Minho, as much as the plane seat would allow him, âyou have this look when youâre thinking about noonaâ
Minho just gapes, unaware of said look, âno I donâtâ
âYeah you do, and you look stupidâ, that earns him a half hearted punch to his stomach, âoof, ok, I deserved that one, but itâs still trueâ.
Minho knows that his friend is giving him an opening to talk about it. Talk about his feelings. But he canât even find a starting point, with the snowball of all the worries heâs been keeping in rapidly becoming an avalanche.
âItâs stupid because itâs pointlessâ, Jeongin starts again, âeverything will work out because you love her, so whatever it is you think you have to do, as long as you have her, youâll be okayâ.
The words echoes.
You love her.
You love her.
He loves her.
And of course he knew that. He has loved you for most of his life. As a best friend, as someone who was always just there. As someone he couldnât imagine his life without.
But over the past year things had been changing. He would notice you first whenever he walked into a room. If your name popped up on his phone, heâd always make time to reply. He would call you over everything and over nothing special, and feel giddy every time you answered - and you always did.
And as he thought about it, it had started before this whole thing. Before Bun. Before they had started sleeping together, even.
He got that vacant look on his face again and Jeongin gives up, putting in earphones and turning forward again, if his hyung wanted to be stubborn and overthink, that was no longer his problem.
Meanwhile, Minho was trying to pinpoint when it had started. That feeling. When did the switch took place?
His birthday last year.
You came early to help him set up the drinks, they were expecting more people than usual at the dorms, Chan would barbecue, a few of his old school friends would come too, even Bora was in town. You were bickering with Jisung over how much alcohol should a dose have, the younger insisting you were putting too little alcohol, and you insisting he was not good enough with alcohol to need any more.
Eventually Jisung won the argument and you made his drink a little stronger but, as the boy turned Minhoâs way to celebrate his victory, a clear intention to annoy you further, the older noticed as you sneakily switched his drink for yours - the same one but with the original amount of alcohol. You see that Minho notices and wink. You wink. Later in the evening, when Jisung is indeed drunker than he should be, even with the lighter doses youâve been giving him, Minho sends you a quiet thought of gratefulness over your care for his younger member.
And keeps thinking about that wink.
No, it was on your birthday, the year before that.
Stray Kids were somewhere in Latin America, the names of the cities blurring together as they came one after the other, too close together to memorize for longer than when they had to scream said names on stage. You, however, had booked a vacation, a week off exploring the countryside near your hometown with a couple of friends you were not even that close with anymore. He knew Bora was away because she had called him ahead to warn that you would try to visit your mom, having heard that she took residency fairly near where you were born.
He had not been the best at texting back then, but he called on the day you were turning older to wish you his best, only for you to ignore his call. Which never happened. After a second try, a few hours later, and the call cutting short before it could ring for long enough, he got worried enough to reach Bora about it - who found herself in the same situation. She knew, however, the address of the place you were staying, and that gave Minho an idea.
You would never ignore him if he sent you food.
So he found a way to have a cake delivered, it should still be early enough so that you had not eaten dinner yet, so maybe that could be your desert. You didnât care much about your birthday, so if the friends you were with had not arranged for a cake, you wouldnât either. And well, if they had, there was no such thing as âtoo much cakeâ on your book and he knew that.
An hour later he got a text, âthey spelt my name wrongâ. And that was it.
He texted back a quick happy birthday but didnât try calling. Bora later filled him in, you had found your momâs address but she was not home, the neighbors refusing to give you any extra information about her when you asked. When you got back to the place you had rented, your old friends had invited some guys they met the night before at the local pub, and were enjoying the pool and the attention, while all you wanted was the quiet and comfort of old friendships. So you stayed in and wallowed, ignoring everyone.
The cake was what dragged you out of bed, to answer the door. And then you had some sugar, and the group staying with you sang you happy birthday and convinced you to go out for drinks again - to celebrate. And you actually ended up having a good time. Good enough to share a few photos on social media, the first being of the misspelled cake. The caption read âto be known and to grow oldâ.
Maybe, actually, it was that one time you met by chance at a cafe, two? Three years before?
It was a good day. A sunny autumn morning. The weather outside felt crisp. The leaves were blowing away creating paintings of orange and yellow in the sky. The most recent comeback season went smoothly with a song well received and promotions that ended with no one getting hurt. He now had a few days off from work and was moving into the new dorms, less crowded, better equipped.
He was feeling coffee. He brought his camera with him. An excuse to get to know the neighborhood.
It was the middle of the week, most places were empty, it was quite literally his ideal situation.
And then he bumped into you, and it became a perfect situation.
You took the day to work âfrom homeâ, which meant working from a cafe, also feeling like the perfect weather deserved it. Thatâs where he found you, already two coffees down, ready for any excuse to drop your assignments and consider your work day finished. So when Minho walks in and spots you, he orders two more lattes and a sweet treat âfor himâ - that youâd probably end up munching at least half of. And he takes a seat across from you, sliding the coffee next to your laptop, not disturbing your typing.
You look up, manage to mask your surprise at the sigh of the man, sips the new coffee, hums happily and pretends to work for the next 20 minutes, while quietly stealing bites off his pastry.
Minho watches you work, takes a few pictures of the cafe, the drinks, the plants decorating the window sill, you. He is patient but finds it hard to stay still. Heâs about to finally say something when you shut your laptop.
So he starts talking, over nothing, mostly. The TV Show heâs been watching, how the move with Jisung played out, his next travel plans, the new manager his team got. You shared office gossip, complained about an ex you bumped into, share ideas for what he could do with his new room, pondered over if you should renew the lease for your own apartment or not.
Minho suggests you go for a walk, you show him a few places youâre familiar with in the neighborhood, you make plans to visit an art gallery that opened recently, he makes you take a detour into a park so he can photograph the changing trees and that ends up turning into a little playful photoshoot between the two of you. You take a few good photos of him, making him promise to post them lately, to prove to him that you are a good photographer. He retorts saying that Stay will say that any photo with his face looks nice, so it doesnât really count. Minho than threatens posting a picture of you he had taken, to which you use the same logic: Stays will find good any picture he takes if they knew he was behind the camera.
And itâs not as if could post anything that had your face in it, but when he arrives home, later that day, and is looking through the photos, actually selecting some to share with his fans, he finds a sequence of photos you had accidentally snapped. You had tried setting the timer for the camera, to snap something of the two of you together. Instead you set the camera to keep snapping sequential photos. There were about 10 of them, most capturing just your hands and then your back, as you turn to run towards him after thinking thereâs a timer counting.
But the very last is of you reaching him, one of his arms extended, expecting you to find your place by his side, his other hand is hidden inside his coat. Minho is smiling at you, caught right before the moment you made contact, eyebrows raised, expression open. He canât see your face, your hair and coat floating behind you, one of your arms also extended, just about to wrap it around his back on a future side hug for the picture. The park is empty and the floor is covered in leaves. The trees, however, are still full, a beautiful display of their autumnal colors.
There are no photos after that last, but he knows that you couldnât slow down on time, crashing to his side and sending you both to the floor, where you fell into a fit of giggles. And he laughed along, something reminiscent of days long gone, of childhood wonder and blind trust.
He didnât post that one, but he sent it to his parents. The next time Minho visited their home, the photo had been printed and was displayed on the living room, alongside other childhood photos of him - many that included you.
Thatâs when he first felt it. Over the next few years, whenever he saw that photo, his heart would do a little funny thing, beat a little out of sync. Heâd get this urge to talk to you. Put his arms around you and hear your laugh. He couldnât name it then, blaming it on the familiarity of a friend he knew for most of his life, someone he cared for and trusted. Someone that understood him.
But truth be told, he had other friends that knew him for just as long as you, some even longer. And no one else made him feel like that.
Because he loved you.
He loved you.
He loves you.
âI love herâ, he thinks out loud, just as Jeongin is finishing his film, having taken out the headphones to give his ears a break.
âReally, hyung?â he deadpans. Minho stares at him, as if remembering where he was, âyou literally just realized that, didnât you?â
Minho nods.
âOh my god I donât know how Jisung puts up with you twoâ, the maknae chooses to ignore Minhoâs bewilderment. Heâs absolutely not getting himself involved. Jeonginâs ears be damned, he puts his earphones back in and presses play on a different film, not bothering to choose too much this time.
Minho spends the rest of the flight - the rest of the week, truly - thinking about all the times he knew he loved you. About winks. About how it felt to know and to be known. About childlike smiles and autumn leaves.
> a/n | favorite comment I get from you guys is some variation of "oh so they really are that dumb" and I giggle to myself every time because yes, yes they are. As aways, thank you for reading <3
> taglist is closed!
Hiii! This might sound a bit random, but I realized itâs been a while since you last posted and my empath side got a little worried âșïž hope youâre doing well!
PS: I absolutely love the series đ„č
hello!!!
I'm sorry to have worried you, and appreciate the care <3
The updates will come back now, I just accidentally took a little time off to spend time with my family - I live abroad and don't see them often hehe
> genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut, pregnancy, the tiniest bit of angst
> warnings |Â smut, fingering, face riding, unprotected sex (don't do this!), pregnant sex (it leads to this!). MDNI.
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> A/N |Â Hi hi everyone! I didn't think I'd end up taking the week off but I'm on vacation visiting my family so I've been more offline lately, nothing to worry though, we're back with the regular updates :)
13. I don't know what that one is doing here
You are welcomed by so many boxes when you get home that you have to squeeze your way into through the front door.
Taking your shoes off is an increasingly harder task every day. So taking your shoes off while also keeping your balance and not dropping yet another box you picked up on your way in was proving a challenge you couldnât muster the patience for today.
So you give up.
You drop the box at your feet and slowly help yourself getting down alongside it. You sit down on the small step separating your entrance and your hallway and try to untangle the mess of laces on your boot - damn Minho insisting on tying them for you. The knot only grew tighter through the day and the strain on your back was too much for you to keep trying. You consider just cutting them loose, but the thought alone of having to get up again to fetch some scissors is enough to send another wave of pain up your spine.
While still fully dressed for the cold, in your long coat, scarf and boots, you lay on the floor and wallow in your misery.
Thatâs exactly where Minho finds you, almost a full hour later.
He tries not to panic when he opens the door and sees you lying on the floor, scrolling on your phone as if that was the most comfortable place to be in the whole world. As your eyes turn to him, the rage held in them is weirdly calming to him.
Minho was getting used to seeing you annoyed all the time, so once he scans your situation and finds the root of the problem, he quietly kneels down to help you out of your shoes.
âYou couldâve called me, you knowâ, he mumbles, not daring to look up at you, sensing your eyes shooting daggers at him as it was.
âIâm never wearing boots againâ, you accept his hand as your feet are finally free, and he helps you get back up.
âYou love boots,â he mumbles, more to himself than to you, as he holds the back of your coat so you could slid your arms out, âyou insisted on bootsâ.
âWell-â, you shove your scarf on his chest, as if heâs the reason for all your discomfort, ânext time donât let me, tell me Iâm wrong, I donât actually like boots!â
âSorry, I like being alive too muchâ, he jokes, and you huff, rage filling your eyes as you finally make your way into your apartment.
He follows you in and itâs not lost on you the little chuckle that escapes him, only enraging you further.
Minho picks up the box you left on your way in, heâs not even sure whatâs inside anymore. He stopped monitoring your expenses on his card a while ago, noticing a pattern where every time he said the wrong thing, even when he didnât even realize he did, a new baby purchase would be made. You were going full in on retail therapy and he couldnât say he was even mad about it. Specially when every time he dropped by your place you would gush over a new piece of tiny clothing or an extra soft plushie you got.
He had read about maternity brain, but it was a delightful surprise to learn that your type of forgetfulness usually included you forgetting you were annoyed with him.
And damn was it endearing to see how your eyes lit up whenever he came over with a purchase. He couldnât help himself, his ads were getting more and more specific every day and his impulse control was nowhere in sight. At first you tried to stop him; but when you did, he just got more and more creative on how to spoil his baby girl, asking for the help of his family and friends to gift you stuff he had actually bought himself. So you also gave up on that.
Youâre rummaging through your fridge, trying to gather what could be turned into a quick and easy meal. Your back was killing you and the thought of having to stand in front of the stove for longer than 5 minutes felt draining. You could ask Minho to cook, but then heâd want to make something that was good for the baby, and you were craving something oily and yummy, youâve been good for the baby all week, you earned it - even if you knew that meant a whole night of tossing and turning as your girl was usually more active whenever you ate out of your diet plan.
The way you were standing mustâve alerted him of your discomfort, as Minho quietly stepped behind you, his arms coming to circle your waist.
âI saw a video onlineâ, he speaks into your ear, voice low and steady as if trying to not cut the wrong wire to defuse a bomb.
Before you could ask him about it, already frowning and ready to snap, he spread his palms on the very bottom of your belly and lifts it. The relief is so immediate your knees loose their strength.
âOh my godâ, a moan escapes your lips, as you find your balance again and fully lean into him, dropping your head back on his chest.
âIs it good?â, you can hear the teasing on his voice but you canât find it in you to feel annoyed, basking on the pressure finally being lifted off of your spine. So you hum in response, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to drown in the bliss of the feeling.
Now that the pain gave you a break, you manage to focus on the feeling of his fingers on your skin, his thumbs stoking your bump. You shut the fridgeâs door, eyes still closed, and press your hands to his arms, feeling the way his veins are popping out, the strain of holding you up in place. As much as you donât want to let go, youâve come to know that Minho will absolutely overextend himself for the sake of your comfort.
Youâve seen him lose more sleep than ever before, coming late from practice and leaving early for schedules - but always making sure to be there. You saw him go out of his way to satisfy some of your more insane cravings, even the ones he knew were not that good for you. You heard from the other boys how relentless he had been at the company, making sure all of the team was keeping on track with their scheduled rehearsals, not letting anyone step out and risk anything being pushed back. You have also been told how scary he had been a few times, when a higher-up tried to speak ill of you in any measure.
So even though you were as comfortable as you could be right that moment, his faint perfume hitting your nostrils, his breath at your neck, his arms around you holding the weight of the world on his hands, you knew it wouldnât be long before he started feeling strained.
âCan we order in?â, youâre still gathering your courage to move. Your head still pressed on his chest, eyes closed. You feel him nod and allow yourself a couple more seconds before patting his hands, urging him to let go.
As the weight of your belly falls upon you again you canât help but groan - in pain and frustration.
âCome hereâ, he nudges your waist, leading you towards the couch.
This was starting to become routine, heâd sit all the way back on the cushions and spread his legs so you could sit between them. And he would rub your back. The first few times youâd still try to joke around about how a massage was what got you in this situation. About him paying back for all the times you squeezed at the tension of his shoulders. About him trying to get on your good side again after pushing your buttons a little too hard.
But now it was just comfort. Just the feeling of his hands on your skin. The care he delivered on every point of pressure. More times than not, his hands would then travel to other regions. Your collarbones, your sore and sensitive breasts. And lower. And you would huff and complain, but also let escape these tiny moans, the sound of you letting go. You never denied him, not once.
Because over the past month he got used to you being constantly annoyed - and also constantly horny.
So heâd been helping out, on all the ways he could think of.
It was no supposed to happen again, really.
First it was that time you insisted on helping him into the shower, as he couldnât get the orthopedic boot wet. Then it was that time you had a dream and he just happened to be sleeping over. Then it was after that one maternity class you had with Bora accompanying you, trying to ease his guilt of not being able to be there with you. And only then did the massages really started.
And they didnât always lead to anything else. Most of the time it was plain chaste care. Some relief from the pain.
But then some daysâŠ
Some days were like this.
Youâd feel his hand on your thigh and spread your legs a little further. And heâd scoot his hand up.
Up.
Up.
And heâd tease you over your clothing.
Kiss your neck from behind.
Cup your breasts with his free hand.
And youâd reach back to feel him growing hard.
âIs this okay?â he whispers, as his fingers slide under the waist of your pants.
Heâs been checking every single time. Even if you never deny him. And you never talk about it after either. As if putting into words what youâve been doing makes it real, as if it disregards your previous agreement.
You hum your affirmation while his fingers reach the spot most sensitive to you.
His hardness is pressed against your back but you canât pay attention to him like that right now, too focused on your own pleasure. Youâre not usually selfish like that but you had spent an hour lying on the floor because of the boots he tightened. You deserved it.
He teases your entrance with his fingers slowly, circling aimlessly and driving you insane while at it. You squirm on his embrace but he only holds you in place, not allowing for you to move much.
Once his fingers finally slide in, an unguarded moan escapes you, gives away how needy you felt.
Itâs like it awakens something in him, his movements grow more purposeful, his mouth attach to you, leaving little bites on your neck and shoulders. When you start to feel the edge approaching, he stops/
âSit on my faceâ, he says, while already pulling his fingers away and scooting around you.
âMinho, noâ, you start. Whine, really. âIâm hugeâ
âYouâre perfectâ, is what he says, kneeling in front of you and grabbing the sides of your shirt, lifting it up. You allow it with no resistance and he puts his hands on your now naked waist. âWill be even prettier sitting on my faceâ
His expression is so sincere you canât make yourself deny him.
So you allow him to help you stand up. He finishes undressing you while remaining fully clothed, but youâre too worried feeling self conscious to complain about that.
Minho positions you on all fours, scooting under you and helping your waist down, reattaching himself to you without warning.
You grab onto the side of the sofa, annoyed that you canât see that much of him but lost in the feelings heâs dragging out. He caresses your thighs and plants kisses around your sensitive spots, mixing direct attacks to your pleasure to teasing licks that lead nowhere.
Thereâs no way you could drag it much longer but, as you feel one of his fingers slide in as well, with his tongue still busy at your clit, you come undone. You lean your weigh forward, escaping contact with his mouth, and canât hear what he says over the buzzing on your ears.
Youâre still coming down from your orgasm when you feel him sliding away from under you.
âDonâtâ, is all you have to say before he is kissing your back and neck again, the mere seconds of distance feeling like too much right now.
âWhat do you want, baby?â, he asks, while kissing your shoulder blades.
âYouâ, is your reply, âinside meâ.
You hear him unzip his pants, waiting for you to finish grasping your breath before sliding in.
The stretch doesnât feel like much over how wet you were, but it hits a spot inside that makes you arch your back to give him more access.
His rhythm starts slow but picks up to keep up with your increasing moans, all decorum long forgotten. His own sounds join in as he too approaches his release.
All it takes is for you to reach back and signal for him to get closer. You feel the fabric of his shirt connecting to your back and grabs onto the back of his head with one hand, his lips finding your neck again. You tug on his hair and he holds onto you so tight it makes you think you could merge together.
With a final groan you feel him spill inside you, and he stays there while bringing one of his hands down to find your clit again, taking only a few circles to help you melt again, a surprise gasp with the new sudden build up.
The two of you stay connected, enjoying each otherâs warmth on the aftereffects of pleasure.
You eventually feel him slid out of you, your body reacting with a little shiver at the sensation, the overstimulation getting the best of you. Minho reaches down to place a few kisses on your spine, all the way up to your neck before he says anything.
âIâm gonna order some foodâ, your head turns only just slightly and he drops a final kiss on your cheek while youâre still catching your breath, chest working itself into overdrive, too overwhelmed to try and give him a response.
So you stay like that, forehead resting on the side of the couch, knees bent underneath you for long enough that, when you decide itâs time to move, you feel your legs tingling. You groan and immediately Minho is by your side again. You take account of his hair, a much bigger mess than you gave yourself credit. Even if he kept his clothes on, Minho still looked completely fucked out.
He helps you straighten yourself up and guides you to the bathroom, where you realize he had filled the bathtub. He helps you step in and lower yourself to the perfectly warm water.
Minho steps out again, and you can hear him shuffling stuff around outside but canât be bothered to try and decipher what heâs doing, instead choosing to appreciate how good you were feeling. You were almost drifting off when he steps in again.
He lowers himself to the side of the tub, sitting on the edge, you lift your arm to catch his hand, and holds it in place, the soft moment extending between the two of you.
âFood is almost here, want help getting out?â his voice is quiet, almost scared to break the silence.
And so he helps you up. Helps you dry yourself. Grabs you your pajamas e puts cozy socks on your feet.
Before you feel like your appreciation for him couldnât grow any larger, you smell burgers and fries on your way to the kitchen, making you turn to him in gleeful surprise.
He rolls his eyes seeing your excitement, âyeah, yeah, donât get used to itâ
You squeal, grabbing a few fries and shoving them in your mouth. Your moan is almost as pornographic as the ones that escaped you on your earlier activities.
âI really needed thisâ, you point to your burger.
âDonât wake me up in the middle of the night when you canât fall asleepâ, he says, matter of factly.
âI wonâtâ, but itâs an empty promise, you know you probably will. Just like you know that, when you do, he will grunt but wake up nonetheless, keeping you company when your baby is too restless to let you fall back to sleep. So heâll sing to your belly, and comb your hair, and mutter nonsense until you finally drift off.
And you know itâs getting harder and harder to deny that you are completely and utterly in love with him.
You keep your feelings at bay, try to not overthink them.
But every time he does this. All this. It is a reminder that you will never find another person like him - or worse, that youâre not sure you would ever want to try to.
âIâm thinking about building some of the stuff tomorrowâ, his voice pulls you out of your thoughts.
âOh? I was looking into hiring a crew to assemble everythingâ
âYou think I canât do it?â he lifts a single eyebrow.
âIâm suuuuure you can-â you drag out the words mockingly, âwith my help.â
You wait for him to protest but when he just keeps staring at you with a blank expression you relent.
âAnd I canât really help you right nowâ
âWasnât expecting you toâ
âSoooo we should call a crew,â you insist.
âI already called a crew,â thereâs no change in his demeanor, but the little twinkle in his eyes gives away that thereâs something else to the statement. You open your mouth to ask about it, fearing the worst, but he takes the moment to shove more fries in your mouth, âand eat your food before it goes coldâ.
â
You wake up to the sounds of banging and voices hushing each other.
The light is starting to shine through the little slit of the curtains you left open, and you grab your phone to see that itâs not even 9AM yet. Both you and Minho were usually morning people, but lately youâve been enjoying the days you can stay in bed until late. The days he can do the same with you are so rare you were not expecting him to be up already either, but alas, you were wrong.
As another loud crash comes from outside, you figure itâs best to go check on him, assuming the crew to build the baby furniture mustâve arrived. And you make a mental note to scold the babyâs father about maybe not scheduling stuff that early on a Saturday.
When you step out of your bedroom, face washed and a robe over your pajamas, you are greeted by half of Stray Kids in various states of disarray around your living room.
âUh, good morning?â you greet them.
âOh thank god, can I make some coffee now?â Hyunjin drops a screwdriver and stands up, immediately going to your kitchen and opening the cupboards as if he had always lived here.
âYah careful with thatâ, Minho goes after him, making sure his younger member handles your espresso machine with care. To be fair, that machine had always been more Minhoâs then yours anyway, him being half the reason you even got it.
âGood morning noonaâ, Changbin seemed to be the only one in a good mood, sitting on the couch and sipping on a take away cup you could bet held an americano inside.
âSorry if we woke youâ, the final noise perpetrator, Chan, is sitting on the floor across from where Hyunjin was, still holding a wood board up in place.
âSo you are the assembling crew?â you ask, loud enough so Minho could hear it too, as he makes his way back, handing you a cup of tea while having a fresh brewed coffee on his other hand. Hyunjin follows, dropping back in front of Chan and putting his own drink aside on the coffee table, conveniently pushed a little out of the way to allow them to work.
âI called those twoâ, Minho points to the duo, âI donât know what that one is doing hereâ
Changbin raises his cup your way as if giving a toast.
âHe likes to see me workâ, Hyunjin adds, keeping his attention on his task while also holding a spare screw on the corner of his lips.
âDid you really have to start so early though?â you sip on your tea, the warmth bringing enough comfort to almost make you forget you could still be in bed.
âI asked the same thing!â Chanâs voice pitched higher as he eyes Minho, who was just standing there watching them work as well.
âEh, worked fine by meâ, Changbin interferes, ignoring the murderous looks from the boys sitting in front of him.
Sensing he would just make the project take longer, you mouth to Minho âyou owe meâ before going over to Changbin and tapping him on the shoulder, âcome on, big boy, help me get some breakfast ready for you lotâ
By the time you and Changbin managed to assemble enough food to feed the group - small but avid eaters as they were -, they were pretty much done with the first piece of furniture. As you went back to force a break on them, you were met with a changing table in dark wood that you were hoping would match the bassinet. Minho was making Hyunjin sit on top of it before deeming it safe enough to bring to the room that would hold the nursery.
While you ate in the casual comfort, you learned how the little group came to be. Chan had offered his help, having heard Minho talk about your apartment being overthrown with boxes overnight. Hyunjin had not offered his help, but everyone knew he was the best at assembling furniture and all things handcrafted. So Minho told him you had asked for his help, and he could not say no to you, so he came. It took him a good hour after he arrived to figure out that you had nothing to do with him having to wake up way too early on a day off. Changbin, true to his statement, came on a whim. He was coming back from an early morning workout session when Hyunjin was getting ready to leave, and when he heard about what took his housemate out of bed so early, he just figured he could tag along and earn some extra favorite-uncle points.
âIâll give you all Jisungâs uncle points if you manage to take y/n out of the house todayâ, Minho whispers to Changbin once youâre busy taking the empty dishes to the kitchen with Chan.
âAnd how am I supposed to do that?â
âI donât know, make something up!â
You walk back and as if on cue all the boys stand up to start getting back to their work.
âWhat are your plans today, noona?â Changbin side eyes Minho, but youâre paying attention elsewhere, your focus having to be dragged out of the boxes still piled around.
âHuh?â you finally spot the one you were looking for and points it to Chan, who promptly goes to grab it.
âWhat are you doing all day?â Changbin repeats, more certain now, a plan forming.
âHelping you guys?â you look around the room to prove a point.
âWhy donât we go for a walk?â heâs so nonchalant about it you donât even think twice, âthe weather is pretty nice and the two of us will end up getting in the wayâ
You consider his offer.
âBin, itâs literally my houseâ, you search for Minhoâs eyes to see how he feels about it but he seemed to be avoiding you on purpose, âI think I should be here and help?â
âWhere is the instruction manual for this one?â Hyunjin asks and you notice you had been standing on top of it, meekly stepping aside so he could grab it.
âOn second thoughtâŠâ you make eye contact with Changbin, whoâs just grinning.
âPut on some warm clothesâ, Minho was still focused on separating the pieces needed for the next project but he directed the words at you, so you give his bum a little tap on your way back to your room to change.
You were not specially close with Changbin. Over the years he would sometimes join you and Minho eating out late if you were meeting your friend after a schedule, and the two of you bonded over a shared love in teasing Minho. But unlike some of the other members, you rarely were left to talk by yourselves. So it was at least a bit surprising when the whole afternoon flew by. What was supposed to be just a walk around a nearby park ended up turning into a lunch filled with âif you donât tell my PT I wonât say anything to Lino hyungâ, that turned into a ânoona look! it looks like Felix, we should get one for the baby!â, and also turned into a âcan you help me taking some photos for stay? my hair looks nice todayâ.
And before you knew it, the sun was starting to set on the horizon and you managed to spend the last how many hours in a carefree, content mood.
[5:31PM] lee minho (baby daddy): come expel them
[5:31PM] lee minho (baby daddy): they refuse to leave
You chuckle at the messages and show them to Changbin, signalling you should probably head back.
[5:34PM] y/n: weâll be there in 15
[5:34PM] y/n: please tell me my apartment survived
His lack of response shouldâve worried you but you forgot to press him as Changbin insisted in playing you some of the demos 3Racha had been working on for their special unit album. The least you could do was pay attention.
Before you knew it, the car was parked, the elevator called, the code punched in and your shoes were off, as you followed the sound of voices into your home - that now smelled like cleaning products and that one cotton scented candle Minho seems to like so much.
The door to the future-nursery was half open with the light on, but as you try to push the door you are met with some resistance and Chanâs voice
âWait-wait-not-yet-give-us-a-minute!â he sounds panicked, which only makes your fear for the state of the place to grow.
âNow I need to come inâ, you say, but you stop forcing the door, âplease guys, it canât be that badâ
You barely finish your sentence and Minho is flinging the door open. His once white shirt now has some paint stains over it, and he looks annoyed and tired and oh-
Oh.
Heâs nervous.
Itâs such a rare sight that you canât help but step closer, laser focus on him, hands going to cup his cheek.
âWe can redo it if you donât like itâ, he says, barely a whisper, and you allow yourself to peak behind him. Those walls were not that color a few hours ago.
He steps aside, bumping into Chan who bumps into Hyunjin, all three looking at you, expressions filled with expectations.
Itâs beautiful.
The walls were freshly painted a very light dirty pink. The few dark wood pieces you got were exactly where you had pictured them, and a few shelves you donât remember ordering were filled with photos and all sorts of stuffed animals youâve been randomly collecting over the past few months.
They had added the dark green bedding you had first gotten on the bassinet, and on top of it there was a very big Leebit plushie. You step forward and find yourself standing on a thick rug that perfectly matched the colors of the walls.
You turn in astonishment to the boys waiting by the door.
âWe still have to hang a few things but we didnât want to mess up the paintâ, Minho steps forward, pointing to the wall by the door, and Hyunjin lifts a couple framed images; on one hand the first sonogram of the baby, and on the other the first picture you and Minho ever took together as kids, both sitting on the floor of his parentâs living room, the day he brought Soonie home.
Youâre at a loss for words, so Minho keeps going.
âAnd I donât know if I got the right idea you hadâ, he steps in, vaguely gesturing to the rocking chair by the changing table, âbut we can move stuff around-â
You threw your arms over his shoulder, pulling him into you. His arms take no time circling your waist and you have to take a couple deep breaths to not start crying on his shoulder.
âOh thank god if I inhale any more paint fumes Iâll pass outâ, Chan says and you look over Minhoâs shoulder to see the older man smiling, his complains not really carrying any heat.
âYouâre weakâ, Hyunjin states, and gestures for Changbin to walk in to see their work as well.
They take their time showing you all the little details, all the care they put into it. Minho kept mostly quiet once the nervous energy he had been carrying dissipated.
He had not planned to go all out with the nursery, but once you were out of the house and the boys were already here, he suddenly found himself eager to get everything ready for you. The two of you had talked about where you thought most things should go, and he knew you were not too attached to any color scheme or style of decorations. You just wanted the place to feel cozy and safe for your little girl.
And Minho really wanted the pink walls and the pink chair and the pink rug.
As the afternoon progressed and the furniture started gaining shape, he could so easily picture you there. Sitting on the chair with the little baby in your arms, the light filtering through the curtains, your cheeks glowing pink like they did during the warmer months.
So he painted the walls.
Well, he helped paint the walls.
And his members tried not to tease him too much about it. Thank goodness Changbin was out.
He would undo everything, had you not liked it. But you rubbed your face on his neck and did that little breathing-hiccup thing you did whenever you were holding in your tears.
And although Minho was getting used to seeing you annoyed all the time, he also still knew how to make you smile.
â
The boys left soon after, leaving you and Minho alone to enjoy the quiet of the evening.
Both of you took a seat on the nursery, you at the rocking chair and him on the floor, back resting on the bassinet, feet spread forward on the rug.
âI canât believe you did this all todayâ, you marveled, hugging the big Leebit you had fished out of the crib close to your chest.
âIt was not too badâ, it was one of those rare moments where all his walls were down, you knew you could ask him anything and heâd be nothing but truthful, âthe guys helped a lotâ
âEven Changbin?â
âSpecially Changbinâ, he closed his eyes and allowed his head to dip back.
You observed him for a bit, considering if you should let him rest at last or take the opportunity to maybe go into a talk youâve been meaning to.
âThank youâ, is what you ended up settling on.
Minho opened only of his eyes to look at you, assessing if the moment granted a two-eyes-open situation, or if he could go back to resting his sight. He closed his eyes again.
âThank youâ, his soft voice a little above a whisper as he throws the words back to you.
âMinhoâ, you called him again, once you notice he would allow the silence to settle again.
âYes, Y/n?â he kept his eyes closed, but a little line appeared on his forehead.
âCan we talk?â
âIs it a baby-talk or an us-talk?â the crease above his eyebrows grew deeper.
âBoth?â because were not all us-talk also a baby-talk these days?
He fell silent again and you had to practice patience. You were never really good at that.
âWe leave for Japan in two daysâ, his reply finally comes, swerving the conversation to a different direction.
ââŠI know?â and you did know. You had known for a while about all of his schedules over the next two months, the final countdown for your due date.
âIâll be back in three weeksâ, he goes on, finally relenting and straightening his neck, opening his eyes to meet yours.
âI know that tooâ, and why were you nervous about where this was going?
âThat gives us a month before sheâs on this sideâ, his eyes drop to your bump, before going back to your face.
You wait for him to continue. He doesnât.
âYes, Iâm awareâ, you relent.
âSo we will talk thenâ, and he means it.
âMinho we canât keep postponing thisâ, you whine, extending your leg to gently kick his.
âWeâre notâ, he insists, âweâll figure us out before sheâs here, thatâs a promise.â
âIt better beâ, and you sound harsher that you meant to, so you take a deep breath before going on, âI donât want her to grow up like I did, Minâ
âSmart, pretty and headstrong?â he teases, but you just stare at him until he drops the cutesy act. He scoots closer to you, hand searching for yours, âshe wonât. She will have us, in whatever way, always looking after herâ.
Tears prickle behind your eyes, a mixture of relief and frustration. So you squeeze his hand back, and for now that will have to be enough.
You drop the subject. The talk will happen, and whatever it brings, living in this limbo with him for a couple more weeks doesnât sound too bad.
So he cooks and you pick a film. You sniff his neck once heâs out of the shower and that turns into him kissing yours. You stay up late, lost to touches and whispers. You wake up later than usual and go for a walk and an overpriced pastry. You visit his parents to play with the cats. When you drop him off at the dorms, the night before he has to leave, you say your goodbyes with a kiss.
Part of you is prepared that it could be the last. Part of you really hopes that it isnât.
> a/n | We're about 2/3 of the way done, in case anyone is wondering... This was originally where the fourth chapter ended and it was planned as the softer part of the entire fic, the calm before the storm, as they say? Nothing too bad is coming, this is supposed to be a comfort read, but anyway, you can't say I didn't give a heads up!! As always, thanks for reading, see you on the next one <3
> taglist is closed!
> genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut, pregnancy, the tiniest bit of angst
> warnings |Â this is all fluff lol. MDNI.
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12. the pudding magically appeared
[4:02PM] lee minho (baby daddy): so Iâm stuck in meetings all day
[4:02PM] lee minho (baby daddy): are you okay?
[4:08PM] y/n: that bad?
[4:08PM] y/n: Iâm fine, donât worry about me
[4:09PM] lee minho (baby daddy): I always worry about you
You read the text a few times before deciding on what to reply, the cold breeze while you waited for Jihye to pull up in front of your office making you shiver. Minhoâs bubble comes in before you can begin typing your own reply.
[4:12PM] lee minho (baby daddy): I have to go back in
[4:12PM] lee minho (baby daddy): Iâll text you when Iâm released
[4:12PM] y/n: you make it sound as if you were kidnapped
[4:13PM] lee minho (baby daddy): yes
As a car stops in front of you though, you are surprised to see someone else already on the passenger seat. You open the back door and, before putting on your seatbelt, lean into the driverâs seat to give a reassuring squeeze to Jihyeâs arm.
âHow are you feeling?â, your voice is soft.
âOverwhelmedâ, she admits, and you feel Seungminâs full attention on her, even if you canât see him, âhow are you feeling?â, she asks back.
âBetter than I thought Iâd beâ, and it is the truth.
âIâm not doing too bad either, thank you for askingâ, the boyâs voice at your other side makes itself known, but instead of giving him the attention he was clearly looking for, you just rolled your eyes and scooted back on your seat, allowing your friend to start the car.
[4:21PM] y/n: why is seungmin here?
[4:21PM] y/n: were you actually kidnapped?
[4:21PM] y/n: should IIIIII be worried?
Minhoâs reply never comes, but over coffee - for them, tea for you, doctorâs orders - you come to know a bit about how Stray Kidsâ day went.
âSo I guess weâre doing thisâ, Seungmin held Jihyeâs hand over the table, fingers intertwined.
âAnd Iâll never go online ever againâ, she adds, and you notice him gently rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.
So the plan was for them to go public, after all.
Nothing would come out about Minho or you or the baby though, at least not yet. Some of the staff already knew about your situation, but there had been no official communication coming from him to the company, which made things a bit trickier on his side. Seungmin came to the rescue, to most peopleâs surprise - but not yours.
He did owe Minho for that one scandal not that long ago after all.
âAre you sure youâre okay with this?â, you turn to Jihye, âit kind of looks like youâre getting the short end of the stick hereâ
She shrugged and leaned in a bit closer to her boyfriend.
âItâs alrightâ, she sips on her coffee and you join Seungmin in awaiting patiently for her to gather her thoughts, âitâs shitty that it went down like this, but at least I wonât have to hide all the time, no offenseâ
âNone taken, Iâm very much a fan of hidingâ, you smiled at her, âI donât want to get Minho into trouble any more than I already didâ
âFrom where I stand it seems like heâs the one that got you in troubleâ, Seungminâs eyes slid down to your bump, making it a point to stay there, really drilling the message in.
âKind of a two person jobâ, Jihye adds, a little humor creeping into her voice for the first time that day. You see Seungminâs gaze soften as he turns to her, carefully observing her gentleness towards you.
You allow them their moment before cutting in, âI feel like I need to say thank youâ
âYouâre welcomeâ Seungmin says at the same time as Jihye goes;
âYou really donâtâ
You bicker like this, back and forth with the younger member, trying to keep the mood light for the sake of your still shaken up friend.
The information Seungmin had so far is that they were releasing the statement regarding their relationship tomorrow, and the day after the comeback schedule would come out - that was being pulled forward almost two weeks to try and drown out any noise the controversy might have brought.
You thought it unusual, the company would normally push it farther down the line to allow for any trouble to die down on its own before comeback season rolled in, but you decided not to question it too much. After all, if the comeback happened a bit earlier, that meant that Minho would also get his time off a bit sooner, something you knew he was excited about. And you heard from Jisung before that 3Racha had been meaning to release something as well, so maybe that would give them the breather to do just that.
A blessing in disguise, you think to yourself.
Seungminâs building was close enough to Minhoâs place that it felt like less trouble asking for Jihye to drop you off there than making her go out of her way to take you home. You had texted Jisung earlier asking if he had any updates and all he said was that he had not heard from Minho for hours.
[6:33PM] y/n: I might ask Jihye to drop me at the dorms
[6:33PM] y/n: is that okay?
[6:35PM] jisungie: I think thatâs a good idea
Huh, the lack of teasing on his part was unusual.
[6:36PM] y/n: any news from Minho yet?
[6:36PM] jisungie: nope
[6:36PM] jisungie: but Iâll go home soon
[6:37PM] jisungie: what do you want to eat?
Even weirder. Jisung offering you food? The world really had tilted out of its axis today.
[6:38PM] y/n: youâre worrying me
[6:38PM] jisungie: Iâm being nice
[6:38PM] y/n: youâre never nice to me
[6:39PM] jisungie: Iâm always nice to you
[6:39PM] y/n: only when you want something
He takes longer to reply and by the time he does youâre already saying your goodbyes to Jihye and Seungmin.
[6:52PM] jisungie: I just want everyone to be happy
And it tugs at your heartstrings. You knew that Jisung was not good with conflict, the back to back meetings they all mustâve had during the entire day would not land lightly on his shoulders. You open the door to the dorms and take off your shoes as you ponder how to try and make this better, easier.
[6:59PM] y/n: can you bring me some pudding?
[7:01PM] jisungie: thatâs not really dinner
[7:01PM] y/n: the baby says itâs dinner
[7:01PM] jisungie: donât bring the baby into this
[7:01PM] y/n: pleeeeease
[7:02PM] y/n: minho would never let me have pudding for dinner
[7:02PM] y/n: it would make the baby SO happy
[7:03PM] jisungie: if hyung asks
[7:03PM] jisungie: the pudding magically appeared
[7:04PM] y/n: thankyouthankyouthankyou
[7:04PM] y/n: thatâs why youâre her favorite uncle
You were in the shower for a long time after that before you hear your phone buzz again. You step out with the water is still running to check if itâs Minho. You canât even let the disappointment settle as you read the texts.
[7:25PM] jisungie: no take backs
[7:25PM] jisungie: i mean it
[7:25PM] jisungie: i have bragging rights now
[7:25PM] jisungie: i got you like 4 different flavors
[7:26PM] jisungie: and now iâll pass out until tomorrow
[7:26PM] jisungie: knock on my door if you need anything
[7:26PM] jisungie: minho should be here soon
[7:26PM] jisungie: donât let Bun forget who got her those puddings
You smile fondly, not even bothering to correct him over the nickname like you usually would, a little lighter on your feet as you steal another of Minhoâs hoodies and some sweatpants. When you reach the kitchen, you find half the fridge stuffed with pudding.
You should be worried, you knew you should. But as you lay on the couch with your little sweet treat, knowing soon Minho would be home, you couldnât find any space to agonize about what the future held for you.
â
[8:12PM] lee minho (baby daddy): escaped prison
[8:12PM] lee minho (baby daddy): call soon?
You didnât bother with a reply and, when Minho walked in, you had already displaced of all evidence of your secret treat and ordered him some actual food. He stops as he notices you on his couch, curled up with a blanket, scrolling on your phone as if you had always belonged there. If heâs surprised he recovers quickly, coming over to press a firm but gentle kiss to your forehead before mumbling a âbe right backâ and walking towards his room, where you can hear the shower running.
He takes his time getting rid of all the stress of the day, so when he comes back to the living room his hair is damp, he smells fresh and looks way more relaxed than you anticipated him to be. You slide your body to the side, making space for him to snug with you on the couch. He canât be bothered getting under the blankets, but he spread one arm over you, bringing his face to your neck, where you pretend not to notice the way he take a deep breath in, the air tickling your skin.
âHow long did they keep you in there?â, you start brushing one of your hands through his hair, while the other kept on scrolling through the website you were currently browsing.
He lets out a non committal hmpf, while also tightening his hold on you.
âDid you even eat? Thereâs food in the kitchenâ
âThey got us pizza at some pointâ, he mumbles, still keeping his face pressed to you, making it a little harder for you to understand him perfectly.
âHealthyâ, and you try to keep the smile out of your voice, knowing how hypocritical it was to tease him, considering what you had for dinner.
âJisungie told me he got you puddingâ, as if reading your thoughts, he detaches from you if only slightly, eyeing you in mock annoyance.
You exaggerate a gasp and drop your phone for the sake of bringing a hand to your chest while not stopping the movement on Minhoâs scalp, âthe betrayal!â
As you feel him release his weigh on your shoulder once again you pick up your phone back, making it a point to show him how you were opening your texts with Jisung, âIâm revoking his favorite uncle rightsâ
âDonât worry, I already didâ, Minho closes his eyes to take in the moment.
It felt right, after the day he just had, to come home to you.
You were safe, not stressed, wearing his clothes and, he noticed, shopping for your baby. His baby. So all the long conversations he knew heâd have to breach with you felt obsolete. At some point he knew heâd had to talk schedules, NDAs, plans for the future and all the little things he spent all day trying to figure out and fighting for. It felt wrong to take so many decisions by himself, but there was no way he was letting you hear what was said about you for hours on end.
So, instead of dragging it any longer, Minho decided there was only one thing you needed to know straight away, everything else youâd figure out eventually as things progressed.
He watched as you kept scrolling through images of baby nurseries, clicking here and there to know more about a product, reading reviews, pinning your favorites.
âThey said I have to take a paternity testâ, he huffs out, and you canât help the laugh that bubbles out of you. He lifts his head again, accessing your reaction with an arched eyebrow.
âWay to ease into the subjectâ, you scold him, but thereâs no harshness to your words.
âYouâre not mad?â, he checks, still doubtful.
âI kind of expected itâ
He waits for you to continue.
âIâm surprised you didnât ask for one when I first told youâ, you admit, a long forgotten fear of yours.
He searches your face for a moment, looking for any hurt at the request.
âI trust youâ, and the finality of the statement catches you off guard.
âI knowâ, you press softly onto the side of his head, making him relax into you again, âbut itâs a logical thing to ask for, I guessâ
He hums against your skin again, his attention back on your scrolling as the two of you let the comfortable silence settle once again. He can see how every time you open a new tab youâre quick to close it as you scroll down and see the prices. Minho is really trying to memorize everything you seem to spend a bit longer looking at, but your fingers are moving at a pace of someone used to this type of routine, and his brain is sluggish after a full day being berated upon.
âBaby stuff is a scamâ, you think aloud, and he can tell youâre annoyed, but also resigned. You are about to lock your phone when he takes it off your hands.
He clicks through the favorites on the website you had spent the longest on, and see that, although you were complaining, you had already ordered a few things here and there.
âWhy have you not asked me for help baby shopping?â, he uses his elbow for support, his attention fully on your phone now.
âI donât trust your taste in furnitureâ you joke, a long running bit between you two over how plain his usual decoration choices were.
Minho just stares at you, expression blank, and you hold his gaze for a little before giving up and giving him a real answer.
âIâve been slowly getting stuff, but itâs a lot of safety information and everything is so expensive, Iâm trying to find some things second-handâ
âYou couldâve said somethingâ, he tilts his hand in a way that you can no longer fully see your own screen.
âItâs a bit overwhelming to be honestâ, you resume your action of petting his head, giving up on bringing his attention away from the phone again.
âI couldâve helpedâ
âI know you could, I wouldâve asked for it eventuallyâ, and you think you would. Maybe. âYouâve just been so busy, I didnât want to pile up too much on youâ
âIâm never busy for you twoâ, and his hand that had been pulled from you to type on your phone goes back to your stomach, his eyes never leaving the screen as his fingers draw little circles where your belly is safely hidden under the covers.
Silence settles in again as you study his expression. You place a hand on top of his own, over your bump. A surge of gratefulness fills your chest. Just as you were about to say something, he gives you back your phone and lowers his head again, finding his previous position, tucking his nose on your neck.
You look at the screen only to notice he had purchased your entire wishlist. You gape at it for a moment before using the hand on his hair to tuck at his scalp, a little whine escaping his lips.
âMinho!â you insist.
âWhat?â, he relents, his breath once again hitting your neck and giving you goosebumps.
âThatâs too much!â
âItâs really notâ, his voice softens. He lifts his head again and donât even look at you as he brings a finger to your phone, easily switching to your saved cards. Thereâs a new one alongside yours. âThere.â
You stare at the card. The very fancy card. You stare at his face. His very pretty face, set on a very stern look.
âNow you use that for anything baby relatedâ, he doesnât break eye contact for a second. âMommy related too, if you wantâ
âI wonât buy stuff for me with your card, Minhoâ
âWhy not?â, he seems so genuinely confused you almost snort, âitâs not any different from me buying you food for the last like 10 years, and you never complained about thatâ
You keep staring at him, thinking on how to bring this conversation back to your comfort zone. Realistically speaking, you knew it shouldnât bother you that he wanted to financially help with the baby stuff. But you never really talked about shopping for a nursery - and where said nursery should even be. You just assumed youâd turn your little office space at home into the baby room, and as it was your house, it should be your responsibility to furnish it.
Youâve been getting some clothes and other small necessities as well, but those were more impulse purchases than real thought out needs. And youâve been smart enough with how you were adapting your wardrobe to fit around your changing body as well, so it wasnât too much of a struggle.
Maybe you were quiet for too long because it seemed you were winning the staring contest you accidentally found yourself in again. He blinks and looks away, down to your bump and your connected hands still above it.
âYouâve been baking Bun for months, itâs the least I can doâ, and he sounds like you imagine stardust sounds like. Soft and gentle, raspy and careful. So you let go. Thereâs no point arguing with him when he set his mind to something - you should know that better than anyone.
âStop calling her Bun, Iâm not an ovenâ, you say with no heat on your voice, while also making a point to let him see as you scroll back to a different website, searching for a little piece youâve been eyeing for months.
The bassinet was made out of dark wood, with rounded corners and pretty leaf engravings on the sides. It wasnât the most expensive one you found, just a little over the budget you had set for yourself. But the reviews were amazing and ever since you first set your eyes on it you could perfectly picture how it would fit in your home, what type of bedding would match, how the wood would shine under the light of the setting sun that reached a specific corner of that room.
With a few clicks the purchase was complete. Minho pressing a small chaste kiss just under your ear.
As you went back to looking for new inspiration online, now with the dream bassinet in mind, you felt his breathing steading itself. The weigh of his arm going limp over you. You adjust a bit to find the corner of the blanket, bringing it over both of your bodies. You would both probably wake up a little sore the next day, being squeezed together on the sofa all night, but as his soft snores hit your ears, you couldnât bring yourself to care.
> a/n | a shorter chapter to balance out the ones to come soon hehe as always, thanks for reading, see you sooooooon!!
> taglist is closed!
