Alpha, Omega
Pairing: Wen Junhui x F!Reader Genre: Bestfriends to Lovers, Angst/Comfort Warnings: Verbal Conflict, Emotional Hurt, Mentions of Crying, Mentions of Self Harm Length: 6.7K
You’ve loved Jun quietly, your best friend and steady anchor. Even when he was with someone else— the alpha who marked the start of his journey in love. You wait in the background, the omega he doesn’t realize he needs. Only after the growing distance does Jun start to see what’s been right beside him all along. The question is—will you still be there when he finally comes home?
7 AM.
Your phone jolted you awake—Seungcheol’s name flashing on the screen like a warning you weren’t ready for. It wasn’t like him to call this early. Your eyes were still heavy, clinging to the last threads of sleep after last night’s party, the hangover already pounding a relentless rhythm in your skull.
“Seungcheol…” you croaked, voice raw and barely holding on. “What is it…?”
His voice was barely a whisper, as if the words might shatter if spoken too loudly. “Jun needs you.”
Just hearing Jun’s name tightened your chest. He always needed you, and you never had the luxury of saying no. It was like you were tethered to him by invisible threads that pulled taut whenever he fell apart. Your body was screaming to stay buried in blankets, but your heart wouldn’t let you.
“Why? What happened?” You forced your voice steady, though it trembled beneath your control. “Did you fight?”
“No. He won’t say.” Seungcheol’s breath hitched, quiet like he was afraid someone might overhear. “Please… just come. He’s shutting us out again.”
Jun, who usually carried the weight of the world so stoically, crumbled when no one was watching. You’d seen it before: how his emotions tangled like barbed wire inside him, how he let the darkness consume every breath. You hated that you were always the one pulling him back, but you never hesitated.
“Okay.” The words left your lips like a vow, a fragile promise you weren’t sure you could keep but would try anyway. “Keep him there.” You hung up, chest tight and trembling with a mix of exhaustion and dread.
One call. One broken call was all it took to make you forget everything about your own pain and run to him. Maybe you were too fragile, or maybe Jun just had that hold over you—a gravity you couldn’t escape. Either way, you never hesitated when it came to him, even if he never came running when you needed him.
You rushed to the dorm, the cold morning air biting your skin, heart pounding faster than your feet. The boys were already waiting, like you were their only lifeline. Soonyoung, Jun’s roommate, looked like he’d aged years overnight, eyes hollow, bruised with worry. “Finally,” Soonyoung breathed out, his voice hoarse and ragged from exhaustion. “It’s freezing, but I couldn’t stay inside.” Your gaze sharpened. Another night trapped in his own head, another battle you weren’t sure he could win alone. “Did he lock the door? Where’s your key?” He shook his head, slow and weary. “It’s not locked but I won’t dare open it.” And you would. Because no one else dared. Jun’s walls were thick, but you knew every crack, every hidden doorway. Privacy was the last thing on your mind when the thought of him—alone, lost—made your chest ache so badly it felt like it might break. Jun wasn’t the type to hurt himself, but you’d seen how deep his darkness ran, and you weren’t about to wait until it swallowed him whole. Even if you had to break the door yourself. Because no matter how stubborn he was, no matter how much he pushed everyone away, you weren’t going to let him fall—not today. Not ever.
You pushed Jun’s door open slowly, the air in the hallway thick with the members’ muted breaths and restless murmurs. The sight of him hit you like a wave—lying there, fast asleep, as if the world outside his room hadn’t been spinning out of control since last night. Relief washed over you for a fleeting second, but it was quickly swallowed by irritation. “Seriously? You dragged me out of bed for this?” The word left your lips sharper than intended, but the exhaustion in you didn’t care. “He banged his door last night,” someone murmured, “skipped dinner… and hasn’t come out for breakfast.” Now, that was different. Jun missing even a single meal was rare. But two? Something inside him had cracked again. Enough to ignore even the most basic need to eat. You exhaled sharply. “Whatever.” The others stayed rooted in the hallway as you slipped inside. Jun looked nothing like the man who laughed with you yesterday morning. He looked like a ghost wearing his skin. Bad Sleeping Beauty, as you used to call him, was doing what he always did—hiding in dreams instead of facing the day.
If he wouldn’t come out on his own, you’d drag him out. You’d told him a hundred times to take care of himself, to stop letting his own hands be the ones that hurt him most. But every time, he fell back into the same pattern.
“Jun,” You sat down beside him, his back to you, and tapped his shoulder gently. “Hey, Junhui.”
A low grunt. He rolled onto his other side, and now you could see him. Droopy eyes half-shut, lips swollen, dark smudges beneath his eyes like bruises he’d painted on himself.
“Wen Junhui,” You brushed his messy hair away from his face, fingertips lingering just a little too long on his skin. He’s warm and alive. Thank God. His breathing slowed for a second as if trying to memorize the feeling of your touch.
“Hey,” he whispered, eyes opening just enough to make sure you were real. The moment recognition hit, he didn’t say anything else—just gave you a faint, broken smile that felt more like an apology. “You’re here.”
“You need to eat. And we… need to talk.” You kept your voice soft, careful, like one wrong note might break him completely.
His eyes closed again, lashes trembling before he pulled himself upright—only to fold into you, arms wrapping around you like you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart. His face buried in your neck, his breath warm against your skin. You swallowed hard, not because of the closeness, but because it hurt to feel how small he’d become in your arms.
“What took you so long to come here?” His voice was quiet, vibrating against your collarbone. Not crying—but close. The kind of sniffling that meant he’d been holding back for hours.
“Dare ask?” You tried for a smirk, but it felt hollow. “I wouldn’t even be here if Seungcheol didn’t tell me.”
Yesterday morning, you’d talked to him. He’d been fine—teasing you, throwing bad puns just to make you laugh. No sign of this. No sign of the way his voice would break today.
“I just didn’t want to bother you.” He pulled back, leaning against the headboard, eyes locked on you like you were an anchor he didn’t want to lose sight of.
“It bothers me more that you’re not okay,” you said, your voice tighter than you wanted. “They told me you didn’t even eat.”
For all the years you’d known him, Jun had been an open book to you—at least, in ways that mattered. You could read his pain before he spoke. But sometimes, he still made you wait for the words.
“Mikyung’s mad at me again.”
Of course. You didn’t even need to ask, if only out of habit.
“I’m such an awful boyfriend,” he muttered. “I can’t even make her happy. All I do is disappoint her.”
Mikyung. Again. Always her. The same girl who, without fail, managed to turn him into this version of himself—a hollowed-out shell. You hated her for it. Not just for hurting him, but for making you this—his safety net, his fixer, but never his choice.
It shouldn’t hurt as much as it did. But it always did.
“She asked for space this time,” he sighed, like the words were a death sentence.
“Space?” you scoffed. “She might as well apply to NASA. At this rate, she’s halfway to Mars.”
That earned you a faint chuckle, and you clung to it like it was proof he was still here.
“Don’t laugh,” you said, though your lips almost twitched. “I’m serious. If I’d known you’d end up dating an aspiring astronaut, I’d have never told you to skip Environmental Science.”
“Shut up,” he muttered, though there was no bite in it.
“What’s wrong with her? She starts the fight, then plays the victim like it’s her sport.” You didn’t say what you were really thinking—that he deserved so much more than someone whose love was this conditional.
But you knew how this worked. He’d defend her. He always did.
“I don’t want us to break up.” You wanted to tell him that maybe he should. That maybe that would save him. Save you. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. Not when he looked like this. “I’m sorry I had to bother you for this. I know you don’t like interfering…” he began.
You cut him off. “Junhui, the moment you started dating her, I’ve been interfering. Whether I liked it or not.”
He smiled, that soft, tired smile, before pulling you into another hug. You wished he wouldn’t. Not when it made it harder to breathe.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “You’re the best friend I could ever have. I’m so lucky. I love you so much.”
It could have been beautiful. But love and friend in the same sentence? It was a knife with a polite smile.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” you murmured, voice flat, hiding the sting. “Come on. Let’s get you something to eat.”
You weren’t numb to this. You never would be. You just knew the rhythm by heart now—fight, fall apart, you patch him back together, he runs back to her, and you’re left holding the pieces of yourself you broke in the process.
You didn’t like pain. You just loved him enough to take it.
Mikyung’s the alpha. You’re the omega.
Whatever you do, she’s always steps ahead of you.
Like a typhoon that wrecks everything in its path, their relationship eventually calmed — and just like every time, it came back stronger. And just like every time, you were shoved back into your original place. As the irrelevant sidekick. The extra in their romance movie. A character with no real ending… at least, not in this story. Not in their story.
Still, you play your role well, because maybe this is the only role you’ll ever have in Jun’s life. And if it means staying beside him — even in the dark — you’ll take it.
“Jun’s so dumb.” Wonwoo’s voice cut through the quiet. He sat beside you on the veranda, two cans of beer in his hands. Down below, you could see Jun, smiling so brightly you almost didn’t recognize the boy who’d locked himself in his room days ago. His hand brushed against his girlfriend’s, their laughter carrying in the air.
“You won’t become a saint from being a martyr of love.” Wonwoo cracked open a can and held it out to you.
“Thanks.” You took it, though you had no plans of drowning yourself in daylight. Maybe a sip. Maybe enough to wash down the bitter sting in your chest. “Good thing I’m not dreaming to be a saint.”
“Why do you even put up with this? It’s obviously killing you.”
You didn’t answer right away. It wasn’t something people could understand, and explaining it meant opening wounds you’d rather keep hidden.
“I’m returning a favor,” you said finally, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “I owe Junhui a lot. I can’t just leave him because of… my own feelings.”
“Feels more like he owes you,” Wonwoo muttered.
You didn’t reply. He didn’t know the whole story — the airport seven years ago, the way Jun had been your first friend when you came to Korea, the way your lives had tangled together ever since. Jun was a way too big part of your history to cut out now.
You took another sip, the bitterness of the beer starting to match the curve of your smile. “I only have him… even if he has her.”
Wonwoo didn’t push. He just stayed, quietly keeping you company. The members all knew — maybe even more than Jun did. They’d seen you broken more often than they’d seen you happy. They didn’t need you to say it; they could read it in the way your smile faltered when she was around.
The next few days tore at you. Your parents fighting over a video call. Exams and deadlines pressing down until you could barely breathe. Headaches every morning that refused to leave. One thing after another — until this week felt like the worst you’d lived through.
But you had Jun. You always had Jun. Or so you thought.
When you walked into his room, already rehearsing the words you needed to spill just to feel lighter, his first words weren’t hi or how are you.
“I think she’s really breaking up with me. For real this time.”
You froze. How could you start unloading when he looked so shattered?
“If she asked for space again, then just… give it,” you muttered, voice flat, because you had no energy left to fake warmth.
“No, no, it’s different this time.” He shook his head, pacing like a restless child. “She admitted she was wrong. She even said sorry.”
“That’s… good then,” you offered weakly, your lips twitching into a smile you didn’t mean.
“But now she won’t talk to me! Even after I forgave her!” He finally dropped beside you on the bed, eyes searching yours, waiting for the magic advice you always had.
“Maybe you both just need time,” you said quietly. Ironic — giving him the very excuse you hated hearing from her.
His brows furrowed. “It’s been weeks. We’ve never been like this for so long.”
You wanted to tell him you didn’t have the capacity for this conversation. That you were hanging by a thread yourself. But he kept talking, and you just sat there, nodding at the right moments, tossing out generic responses that barely stuck to the air.
And then, the ugly truth hit you — it wasn’t the heartbreak over her that hurt most. It was the way he could look at you and not see you at all.
“Junhui…” You said his name more seriously than you’d meant to, hoping it would pull his eyes to yours. In your head, the words were desperate: I’m having a hard time too. Can you just listen? Just this once?
But they never made it out.
“I… I have a report to finish tonight. I have to go.”
His face fell, confusion flickering there. “But… we haven’t seen each other in almost a week ‘cause of that same reason…” His tone was small, almost sulky, like a kid who didn’t understand why their playmate was leaving.
“I’m sorry. You’ll be fine, I promise.”
You cut him off with a practiced smile, ignoring how your chest ached. He pulled you into a hug, and you let him — for two seconds — before pulling away. You patted his shoulder, murmured a soft “I’ll see you soon,” and left.
The members caught the sheen in your eyes before the tears could fall. They didn’t say anything, but their silence was loud.
They’d seen this cycle too many times, you showing up for him, no matter what; her breaking him down, over and over; him taking you for granted without realizing the damage he was doing.
And they all knew — one day, you’d break. You’d stop coming back. And they could only hope that before that day came, Jun would finally look up and see what’s been right in front of him all along.
You.
Always you.
Days passed, and the knot in your chest only tightened.
You didn’t see Jun — even after you said you would. You didn’t text. You didn’t call. Because you knew if you approached him now, it would be halfhearted. And if there was one thing you refused to do in this friendship, it was to give him less than your whole heart.
But the worst part? He didn’t reach out either.
You had reasons for avoiding him. He… had none. Or maybe he just didn’t care enough to have any. That truth sat like a stone in your stomach. You’d always known you weren’t his priority — not when she was around. But knowing and feeling it were different things.
When she was there, you were invisible.
When they fought, suddenly you existed again.
“Jun hyung, just say sorry. She’s not that hard to please,” Chan said lazily, thumbs tapping on his phone, half-sprawled across Jun’s bed. Soonyoung was next to him, equally loud in their game. “Hoshi hyung! Stop shooting me, we’re allies!”
Jun let out a frustrated sigh. “I already did. Over and over. Still not enough.” His phone screen was lit with unanswered messages. Calls gone to voicemail.
“What about food? Girls like that. She’s not into flowers, right?” Chan glanced up, only to scowl when his character died. “Hyung, you killed me!”
“She loves flowers,” Jun replied distractedly.
“Chan, Jun’s talking about his girlfriend,” Soonyoung said, tone sharp with a quiet meaning Chan missed. “Not… his girl best friend.”
“Oh. I’ve always liked the girl best friend better,” Chan muttered under his breath, already restarting his game.
“Same,” Soonyoung said without looking up, rolling onto the bed beside Jun. The truth was unspoken but heavy — the members all thought you were better for him. Not because you were his best friend, but because anyone could see it.
“Jun, I think you should fix things with Y/N first,” Soonyoung added.
“Why? We’re fine.” Jun’s tone was defensive, like the idea itself was absurd.
“Are you sure?” Soonyoung tilted his head, finally meeting his eyes. “Because she hasn’t been around lately.”
The thought clearly caught Jun off guard. Now that it was mentioned… he realized you hadn’t been showing up. You rarely replied when he texted — and when you did, it was curt, always about school, sometimes hours or days late. But he’d just assumed you were busy.
“I don’t know… is something wrong with her?” he asked, almost to himself.
“So if I didn’t tell you, you wouldn’t even notice?” Soonyoung’s voice hardened, a rare edge cutting through his usual easygoing tone. He didn’t like getting involved, but this… this was different. He’d seen the way you gave everything to Jun, even when it drained you. And he’d seen the way Jun took it without thinking twice.
“You really are taking her for granted,” he said plainly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you lose her.”
Jun frowned, annoyed. “Lose her? Don’t be ridiculous. If there’s anyone who’d never leave me, it’s her.”
Soonyoung let out a small, humorless laugh. “Yeah. If you’re that sure,”
Jun stayed quiet, confident in his own words.
But Soonyoung kept his gaze on him, unblinking. “I hope you’re right, Jun. For your sake.”
You kept yourself busy.
You thought burying your own mess before coming back into Jun’s orbit would give you time to breathe—but it didn’t. If anything, his presence now only deepens the loneliness until it swallows you whole. And instead of going home tonight, you find yourself in the nearest bar, chasing oblivion in shot glasses. Drinking has become your refuge this past week—your only rebellion—and no one will, or can, stop you from drowning yourself.
You still don’t know why you expect so much from Jun. Maybe because once—before Mikyung—you were the first person he ran to. But ever since the day she stepped into his life, you’ve known: you’re no longer the priority. You’ve tried to survive away from him, but being around him used to feel better. It used to feel like home.
Being with him is supposed to make you feel safe, but every time he opens his mouth, he makes you bleed with her name. All the small glances, all the little inside jokes, all the good memories you clung to—eaten alive by something stronger than your friendship. And you can’t fight it. You’ve endured for so long, like a fool, but tonight you decide you’ll save whatever’s left of yourself. Jun has twelve other members to lean on, plus Mikyung. You have no one but yourself.
One shot of tequila is one fragile sliver of hope—that maybe one day you’ll get over him, that you’ll go back to being the “best friend” you’re supposed to be. But you already know it’s not that simple.
A hand taps your shoulder.
“Hey.”
“Oh… Hao.” You manage a small wave, a weak chuckle. He sits beside you, leaning against the bar to get a good look at you. His lips click in disappointment, head shaking at the glassy blur in your eyes.
“Damn, you’re drunk.” He snatches your glass and sniffs it. “Tequila… Alone? I remember Jun said you weren’t allowed to drink this by yourself. Is he with you?”
“Nah. No.” You steal it back and down it in one go, burning your throat and forcing a bitter smile. “He’s probably out chasing his girlfriend. As usual.” You laugh, but it’s so hollow it echoes inside your chest.
“Small fight?”
“I wouldn’t know… haven’t been updated.” You’re not even sure if you’re speaking from your mouth or your heart anymore. The alcohol makes everything slippery.
“I meant—you and Jun.”
You look at him, but his face is unreadable. A sharp pain spears through your skull, and you shut your eyes, pressing your temples until it dulls. It fades quickly—unlike the ache in your chest that never lets you go.
“Jun and I? We’re fine. We’re Perfect. Smooth as glass.”
“Yeah? Because when you walked out of his room the last time, the whole dorm went silent. They still talk about it. Because you’ve never visited since.”
You didn’t realize the others noticed. You thought your absence would be invisible. You were supposed to come back eventually—smiling, pretending nothing happened, pretending you weren’t bleeding out inside. It would have been nice if Jun noticed like they did.
“I’m just busy. Don’t think too much.” You wave him off with a forced smile, but Minghao’s eyes don’t soften.
“Misunderstandings don’t happen with you two. Jun doesn’t function without you.”
You laugh bitterly. “He’s doing just fine without me.”
You pour another shot, wishing the burn could wash away your bitterness. But the more you drink, the sharper it gets. Alcohol doesn’t erase the truth—it magnifies it. Every drop in the glass tastes like every day you’ve spent loving him in silence.
You’d always believed that if you waited long enough, he’d see you. That maybe, one day, he’d wake up and realize he didn’t need her—that he loved you back. But years have passed, and he’s still running in the opposite direction. And you’re stuck here, trapped by the hope you built for yourself.
“It’s so obvious, you’re in love with him. You’re just too scared.”
Minghao’s words cut clean. Normally, he’s careful, but the alcohol’s stripped the filter away. You hate that he’s right. You are scared—scared of losing him completely to some reckless confession. “He’s a receiver. If you want him to know, you have to tell him.”
“We’re best friends.” You spit it out like it’s the ultimate truth.
“And so?” His voice hardens. This isn’t a drama he wants to watch play out in circles.
“He has a girlfriend. And they’re happy. I know, because I was there.”
You were always there.
There when he laughed with her, fingers laced together.
There when he twirled her under the afternoon sun.
There when he whispered love under a star-choked sky and kissed her like she was his only world.
Every scene carved you open. Every kiss tore deeper.
She is the beginning of his joy— the alpha.
You are the graveyard of his pain— the omega.
“But is he truly… happy?” Minghao’s voice snaps you back.
“I don’t know, Hao. Don’t— my head already hurts.” You rub your temples, but it’s not only your head that aches. “I just… I just hope he’s happy. That’s enough for me.”
“No. It’s not supposed to be enough. What if you could make him happier?”
“Of course I can. I’m his best friend.” You’re almost shouting it now, like it’s some sacred badge that will make him stop.
“Stop hiding behind that card.” His tone is sharp now, almost mocking. “Both of you are trapped in that wall. If you love him, tell him. At least you won’t have to live with the what ifs.”
“And then what? Let him shatter me completely? No, thanks.” You shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’d rather keep him this way than lose him entirely.”
“So this isn’t shattering you?” His laugh is short, humorless.
You don’t answer. Because you both know it is.
That night, Minghao takes you to the other dorm— not Jun’s. You’re both drunk, but he doesn’t trust you to face Jun in this state. He gives you his bed, dragging Mingyu out without a word. The next day, he explains everything to the others, making them promise not to tell Jun. And they don’t—because you wouldn’t want him to know. Not like this.
The next day, you woke up to a hammering headache, your throat scorched and your reflection in the mirror a cruel reminder of how wrecked you looked. Voices murmured from outside — the other dorm. The memories of last night hit you like a punch to the gut.
The door creaked open, and you squinted through the haze of light that stabbed your eyes.
“Good morning, drunkard.” Minghao’s voice broke through, rough but somehow gentle as he threw the curtains wide. You flinched, rolling onto your back to escape the blinding sun.
You barely managed a weak, “Morning.”
“I didn’t tell Jun that you’re here but he’ll come later. Eat something first, Mingyu made breakfast.” His tone was that of a worried parent, and you didn’t have the energy to argue.
“Thanks, Hao.” You tried to sound normal, but your voice cracked like dry earth.
You didn’t eat. You washed up mechanically, slipped on the same clothes, tugged Minghao’s hoodie over your trembling frame, he was kind enough to lend you, and muttered your goodbyes. They pleaded you to stay for breakfast, but your appetite was lost to exhaustion. You just wanted to crawl into your own bed and disappear.
You sat by the dorm door, struggling with your shoes when it swung open — and there he was. The one you’d been running from.
Minghao said Jun would come for lunch, but something must’ve gone wrong because here he was, in the middle of breakfast chaos, a spoon halfway to his mouth, eyes wide when he saw you. The members peeked over, whispers rippling through the room. Seungcheol’s expression tightened. He backed away, leaving you alone with Jun.
Jun’s gaze flicked to Minghao then back to you, the hoodie—his hoodie. A storm cloud gathering behind his eyes. And then, a sharp, unfamiliar twist of feeling struck him—an ache he hadn’t known before. Up until now, he had only ever been your best friend, the person he always leaned on, the one constant in his life. Seeing you with Minghao, seeing you in someone else’s presence, made him realize you could belong to someone else, and he was powerless to stop it. The thought twisted painfully: he wasn’t enough, not even as your closest friend, and it scared him. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead, stormed out with you trailing, his hand tight on yours.
You tried to pull away from his grip, but it only tightened—pain began blooming.
“You’re hurting me.”
That sharp realization seemed to snap him out of whatever fury had possessed him, and he immediately loosened his hold. Guilt and a strange ache clawed at his chest. He hated that pang—the knowledge that even as your best friend, he couldn’t keep you from slipping into someone else’s life.
“Shit, I’m sorry!” His voice was raw, full of regret and something like desperation. He wanted to pull you close, to remind you that he was here, your best friend—but he couldn’t stop the fear that it might not be enough anymore. You started walking away, almost laughing bitterly at his frantic apology — none of it felt real. He chased after you. “Wait, please. Let’s talk.”
There was nothing left to say, and your head throbbed like it would split apart any second. But Jun wouldn’t relent. The thought of losing you—not just physically but emotionally, to someone else—tightened his chest like iron. He had only ever been your best friend, and now the idea that that alone might not matter was unbearable. He needed answers—because the last time he saw you was a ghost of what you used to be. Because the sight of you, so broken and vulnerable, stirred something he couldn’t name.
You pulled your hood over your face, knotting the drawstrings tight, desperate to hide. You thought you might be ready for this conversation, but standing here, with him breathing so close, you knew you weren’t.
“Come on. Stop ignoring me. What the hell is all this?” His hands gripped your shoulders, spinning you around. Your eyes stayed downcast, hidden by the shadow of the hood, but the tears came anyway—hot, unbidden.
Jun’s fingers brushed your cheek as he pulled the hood back. His hands trembled when they found your tears, and for a moment, all the anger drained from his face, replaced by quiet shock. He lifted your chin gently, revealing your swollen, tear-streaked face. You looked so lost, so painfully broken.
He reached up to wipe the tears away, sleeves wet from your sobs, but the flood didn’t stop. His touch was a lifeline — comforting, grounding — and you wanted to collapse into it, to let him fix all this. But you couldn’t. You had to fight it back, step away before the fragile dam broke completely.
“Minghao did this to you?” The thought hit him like a knife twisting in his chest. His fists clenched instinctively, but he held himself back as you shook your head so hard it hurt.
“No... it’s not him.” Your voice cracked, barely a whisper. “It’s just me.”
Jun’s confusion and pain bled into his words. “I didn’t even know you and him were together.” His voice faltered, anger and hurt tangled. “And this is how I find you? Like this?”
“We’re not together.” You forced the words out through trembling lips, tears still falling freely.
Jun’s face darkened, hurt twisting into frustration. “That would be convincing if you weren’t in his clothes. Is this a one-time thing? Is that why you’re crying?” The fury in his voice was as much at himself as at Minghao. “I swear I’ll beat him to death if he hurt you.”
“Jun, please. Minghao helped me.” You swallowed your shame and exhaustion. “I just want to be left alone right now. Please.”
His hands slowly unclenched, the storm in his eyes dimming, replaced by a raw, aching vulnerability.
“That’s it? You know, I spent days looking for you. Days. Only to find you two floors below me, with him. And now you’re standing here, shattered, and won’t even tell me why.” His voice cracked, the edge gone. “I want to help you. Why are we even best friends if you shut me out like this?”
You looked at him—really looked at him—for the first time since he appeared. The pain etched into his face was unbearable. You hated yourself for hurting him, for being so broken, for not knowing how to fix this.
“Exactly. We’re just friends. Friends listen, but if the other person doesn’t want to talk, you respect it. I’ve respected every choice you made, even if it was painful for me. Now please, just leave me be.”
It was worse than any breakup.
Jun always thought fights with his girlfriend cut deep. But this—this silence and distance with you, the person he trusted most—was agony multiplied. There was no one else he wanted to lean on. No advice mattered more than yours. No presence soothed him like yours.
Because there was no one he trusted more than you.
And you, in this moment, felt like you were breaking apart in a world where he was the only anchor slipping from your grasp.
You avoided him since that confrontation. You tried—hard—not to see him, even though he was reaching out. His calls and messages, even brief appearances near your usual hangouts with the boys— you looked the other way every single time. It wasn’t that you didn’t care; it was just easier to keep your distance than to face the tangled mess between you two.
You convinced yourself that space was what you needed. Maybe it would heal the confusion, or maybe it would dull the pain. Either way, you couldn’t handle another conversation, not yet—not until you were ready.
Then suddenly, your phone rang, slicing through the silence like a knife.
"Noona! I need your help. Jun hyung,.." You froze as you heard Seungkwan's panicked voice over the phone. Your heart reached your throat from its strong pounding.
“What happened?” Your voice barely held together. You didn’t want to know—because the thought alone made your stomach churn—but you had to help. You had to.
“He… it’s…” Seungkwan’s words faltered, swallowed by his shaking breath. You gritted your teeth, scrambling to your feet, grabbing the nearest hoodie to throw over your pajamas. “Noona,—”
“Seungkwan, calm down!” You snapped, voice rising despite yourself. “What’s wrong with him?!”
There was a pause, the sound of Seungkwan struggling for air shaking your whole body. “I don’t know! His mouth’s bubbling, and I—please, just come!”
You didn’t hesitate. You bolted out the door, heart pounding deafeningly. “You should’ve called an ambulance! Who’s with you?”
“It’s just me and Hansol. The others aren’t answering—no one’s here!” His voice cracked and your breath caught.
You willed yourself to stay steady, but inside you were breaking. “I’m on my way. Don’t hang up.”
The elevator ride was an agony—your shaking fingers slammed every button, as if speed could fix this. When the doors opened, you sprinted out and caught a cab without a second thought.
“Junhui,” you whispered, tears blurring your vision. What if Jun intentionally hurt himself? What if it’s because you’d failed him as a friend, his only anchor when everything fell apart?
Arriving breathless at their building, you raced to the elevator, your limbs trembling uncontrollably. The wait felt endless. Finally, you hit their floor button and flew down the hallway to their door.
It was ajar, the silence inside suffocating.
“Seungkwan?” Your voice trembled in the heavy quiet. No cries, no panic—just stillness. “Junhui?” You pushed the door open, heart pounding in your ears, searching frantically.
A familiar shuffle from the kitchen made you spin around.
“You’re here?” Jun appeared. True enough, bubbles spilling from his mouth because he was brushing his teeth. Your heart dropped.
You stared at him, wide-eyed and shaking. “What… what happened?”
He swallowed the foam, staring at you like you were a ghost. “Are you okay? You look like hell.” His gaze swept over your disheveled clothes, your shaking hands.
You barely managed a nod, your hands gripping his face like a lifeline, searching for the damage you’d imagined. “No, you’re okay?”
Jun blinked, confused but amused. “Not exactly. But you… You look like you ran a marathon in your pajamas.”
You exhaled slowly. And then it hit you—slowly, cruelly. Fuck. You’d been played. Scammed. By Boo Seungkwan. You sank down onto your spot, face buried in your palms as the tension finally broke and tears spilled over.
“Fuck, Seungkwan!” you gasped, voice trembling. Relief washed over you like a tidal wave, but it was tangled with anger—and shame. You had really thought Jun had poisoned himself. You’d almost blamed yourself for not being there.
Jun knelt before you, trying to catch your gaze. His hands lifted, hesitated, then fell back. He could tell you weren’t really okay. Maybe you didn’t want him touching you right now.
“Seungkwan! I swear I’m going to kill him!” Your sobs broke the silence like glass. “He said your mouth was bubbling and I thought you—"
Jun’s eyes widened, but a slow grin spread across his face. “He said that? Really?”
You glared at him through tears. “Why would you guys joke about that? It’s not funny at all!” Your voice cracked. “I ran here in slippers and sweatpants, thinking I was about to bury my best friend... and then—nothing, no Seungkwan, and you laughing like this is some fucking joke!”
Jun collapsed onto the floor, laughter shaking his shoulders. You shot him a sharp look, and he stopped briefly, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry. It’s just… funny how you actually thought I’d kill myself.”
You knocked his forehead lightly, and he winced. Your eyes were exhausted, but the tears kept coming. “You idiot. Did you even hear how Seungkwan sounded? He was panicked. He almost gave me a heart attack.”
Jun’s laughter softened into a fond, teasing smile. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop. But honestly... I thought you didn’t care about me anymore.” Your chest tightened. “You only came running because of Seungkwan’s prank. If not for that, I doubt you’d have looked for me.”
Jun’s smile faltered, his eyes darkening with something like regret. He thought back to that day at Minghao’s unit—the unease that had struck him, the moment he realized that, even as his best friend, you could like someone else.… it had hit him differently than anything before—and that the thought stirred something protective, possessive, and unfamiliar in his chest.
“And why should I always be the one to come to you? Why is it always me reaching out? I need space too.” The walls you’d built weren’t meant to keep him out, but even the closest people sometimes need distance.
“I know,” Jun said quietly. “I should’ve realized sooner. I must have been a burden.”
“That’s not what I meant—I…” You shook your head, feeling your defenses crumble faster than you wanted. “I’m always here. But how can I comfort you if I can’t even comfort myself?”
He sighed, voice soft and honest. “I don’t really need words. I just want you to stay. Even if you don’t say anything, just being there is enough. If anything... I just miss you.”
The truth hung between you—raw and fragile. And in that silence, Jun’s heart raced. He was starting to see it—how much you actually cared for him, not just as a friend, but more. The thought made his chest tighten, a mix of awe and disbelief.
There were so many things he wanted to share—his cat, a new favorite café, the breakup—things he wished he could say when you were apart. He missed the simple moments, the easy conversations, the closeness you once had.
“When I broke up with Mikyung... and you weren’t there... I was emptier. It would have hurt less if you were around. Even if you talked nonstop or not at all.”
You blinked, stunned.
“You broke up?”
You hadn’t known. Not from him, not from anyone.
“Yeah. It’s about time. I don’t think I ever really loved her. Maybe I only loved the idea of being in love...”
Your breath caught, confusion swirling inside you.
Jun looked at you, a soft, almost puzzled smile touching his lips. “I didn’t realize it before, but it can’t be love for her when I felt emptier being without you than without her.”
His heart skipped. He realized he hadn’t just missed your presence—he’d missed you, and now he could see that you felt the same pull toward him. A warmth spread through him, a mix of relief and wonder. You liked him, too. You actually liked him.
You bit your lip, overwhelmed.
He shrugged, searching for the right words. Then he reached out, gently brushing a stray hair from your face. The silence thickened, your heart pounding as you tried to process what he was saying.
“Are you still mad at me?” Jun asked quietly. “I heard from the others... about everything.”
You shook your head, tears spilling silently.
“I wasn’t mad. I just needed time.”
“I also heard from them—accidentally—about how you feel about me. Is it true?” His voice was soft, almost hesitant. “That you like me? Like... more than a friend?”
You wanted to deny it, to act tough, but your voice failed you.
“I wasn’t planning to tell you. But it hurts not to.”
Jun’s stomach flipped. The words confirmed what he’d already begun to sense. And it hit him like sunlight breaking through clouds: this wasn’t one-sided. You wanted him too.
Slowly, he wrapped his arms around you. You froze, heart hammering so loudly you thought he’d hear it.
“God, my best friend really does love me,” he murmured.
Your voice was barely a whisper. “Of course I do. We’re best friends.”
You blinked, caught between embarrassment and something deeper.
“You’re terrible at lying,” he whispered. “You love me more than that.”
His arms tightened around you until it was hard to breathe, your hearts beating in painful sync. And in that moment, Jun realized just how lucky he was—not only did he love you, but you loved him back. It was more than he could have ever dared hope for.
Jun smiled warmly. “I feel the same. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner. I’m so dumb for only just figuring out how much you actually mean to me. I’m in love with you.”
He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. You gasped, hands flying to your mouth, eyes wide. “Junhui!”
“So... is it weird if I ask you to be my girlfriend now?” he grinned, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Tears fell freely as you clung to him, burying your face in his chest.
“It doesn’t matter. But you have to ask if you want to know if I’d say yes,” you whispered, smiling into his warmth, stunned but happy.
The alpha left, but the omega stayed. Sometimes it’s not how the journey starts, but who’s waiting at the end.
And it’s always been you.
I take constructive criticism for my writing, come on, leave it. Thanks for reading! Please leave a heart and reblog if you liked it. -belle♥︎
