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“Hyung! S-sorry, said I was sorry!”

“I’m hearing a lot of sorrys right now, little one,” 

Moomyung is currently delivering a flurry of slaps to his favorite peach, Hansung writhing around on his lap. Part of him wishes his omega would just stay still but the other part enjoys the kicking, the squirming. Hansung’s cute. Whether or not he’s trying to be right now, Moomyung finds it endearing. He’s got his flannel pajama pants bunching around his thighs, and his sleep shirt tucked up so Moomyung can rub his lower back when he needs him to still. He loves how smooth and voluptuous Hansung’s thighs are, how he jostles his legs when Moomyung rubs the red out of his bottom only to start up again. He can hear the whine in the back of Hansung’s throat before he starts to beg again. 

 

“I really mean it! Please, please, hyung, pleeease.” Hansung’s sniffly now and his voice is cracking so Moomyung figures he should be done soon. 

 

He knows Hansung still needs time to adjust to this. It’s only been three months since he’s moved in with his new alphas, not really knowing any of them particularly well. They keep him on a tight leash, however, because he’s their Omega, their fated mate, their little angel. Hansung is sweet and naive and innocent and sometimes submissive. Only sometimes. 

 

Twenty-two, and still in college, Hansung had been shocked to find that he had a fated mate at all. By discovering that he had five really threw him for a loop. Soon he started avoiding all of them. It was something he was unsure of, anxious about, and not very comfortable with. But he really liked Moomyung. And when Moomyung had decided that he wanted Hansung to move in, he couldn’t exactly refuse . . . 

And the alphas all have the same agenda for their sweet Hansung; control, firm love, strict rules. Hansung was certainly a free spirit and difficult to rope in, let alone tame but they were all up for the challenge. He was loud and excitable and loved to adventure so for him to have to adjust to new rules, new limitations set by them, was probably making him feel suffocated more than protected, but neither of them cared. And when Hansung broke a rule or toed the line, took too much of a risk, they didn’t hesitate to pull him back to where he belonged. With them. 

 

“I suppose you might mean it, but I really need action to trump words, sweet thing,” Moomyung is rubbing the sore spots on his thighs and Hansung is probably receiving the illusion that everything is going to end soon. That he’ll let him up and they’ll cuddle or watch a movie. But Moomyung wait a little bit, keeping him on edge, before continuing. “We’ll see where you’re at.”

“Wh-no! No, no, no, no, please !” Hansung voice breaks now and he wails openly when Moomyung continues to spank him, flattening his palm to cause more of a sting. He has a strong grip on Hansung’s slim waist to hold him in place while he finishes. Stopping and starting over and over again is wearing on Hansung and he can only take so much before he breaks down. That’s happening now, Moomyung notes. Hansung is crying into the sofa cushion now, his bottom most likely uncomfortably hot, cheeks darkening to a pretty shade of cerise. It must feel like an eternity over his knee but Moomyung notes that it’s only been roughly ten minutes. This lesson should most likely stick. 

“Oh, no, what are we doing?”

Suho’s voice drags Moomyung away from his task for a few minutes and Hansung takes advantage of that to catch his breath. Moomyung smiles at his beta mate and rubs one of Hansung’s cheeks, slapping right where buttock meets thigh to keep him from kicking again. “Behave.”

“What’d he do?”

“He’s taken to leaving the house without permission. It seems he forgets to ask, hm?” Moomyung’s directed the question at Hansung now, who just stutters and trips over his own words in a failed attempt at an explanation. He settles for  gentle crying again. Moomyung allows it, rubbing his lower back again.

“That’s no good. You gotta follow the rules, pup, they’re there to keep you safe,” Suho comes over to give Hansung a kiss on the cheek. Hansung flinches when he slaps his bottom, too. He’s going to be so sore. Moomyung debates on whether or not to stick him in a corner after letting him up.

“Well, I think someone’s going to remember this for a long time to come. But just for good measure . . .” Moomyung slaps his thighs a couple more times, while asking Suho, “corner time? What do you think?”

“Sure.”

“Corner time it is then. Come on, up you go,” Moomyung gives Hansung a couple minutes to compose himself before hoisting him up, and walking him into the kitchen with a grip on his arm. He would rather have him in the dining room, but the kitchen has the hardwood chairs he likes, and he knows that Hansung is going to loathe them. Poor thing.

“H-hyung, what . . .”

Moomyung swiftly pulls a chair out and carries it to a corner of the kitchen with ease. He faces it against the wall and then looks at Hansung, bending a bit to speak to him eye to eye. “You’ll sit here for the next ten minutes and think about an apology to give. I’ll tell you when your time is up.”

“Bu--sitting. Do I have to? I’m really sore , hyung . . .” there’s unshed tears threatening to cross Hansung’s long lashes but Moomyung doesn’t budge.

“Ten minutes. Now, Hansung.”

“C-Can I pull up my”--

“No. Ten minutes. This is the last time I’ll repeat myself or you’re going over my knee for another five. Understand?”

“Yes,” Hansung wipes his face on his sweater and goes to sit on the chair, slowly, hissing when his raw bottom makes contact with the hardwood. Moomyung goes to grab him a couple tissues, but not before giving him a quick kiss and whispering ‘good boy.’ Hansung thanks him for the tissues and uses them to blow his nose, and wipe his eyes. Moomyung eyes the clock for the time before going out to the living room again where Suho is flipping through a file no doubtly from work. 

“How’s he doing?”

“He’s fine. He’ll bounce back,” Moomyung sits beside him. “But what about you ? What are you working on?”

Suho sighs and leans back, giving Moomyung a docile smile. “Client attorney privilege, your honor.”

“So, it’s the Cha case?”

“Yeah. This is some wild case, but I’m getting paid a shit ton to get this guy off, so . . .” Suho shrugs, “it’s not like he’s a murderer or anything. And he’s in with one of your clients, so if this goes well, everything goes well.”

“It will. You’ll win. You always do.” Moomyung gets up to peek his head back into the kitchen, catching Hansung rubbing at his sore bottom. “Hansung! Hands folded in your lap please.”

“But it hurts really bad!” Hansung sinks down in the chair dramatically, tissues bundled up in one hand.

“Sit up straight, hands folded. Don’t make me repeat myself.” 

Hansung does so, begrudgingly. 

“Five more minutes. Be a good boy.”

Moomyung decides to stand there and watch him for the rest of the five minutes. He squirms a bit, trying to find a position that’s most likely more comfortable than how he’s sitting now, but he can’t and Moomyung almost sighs when his legs start to bounce. He knows he’s probably all riled up now but it’s a habit he wants to nip in the bud.

“Hansung, feet flat against the floor. Stay still. It’s only two more minutes.”

Hansung, ever the drama king, places his feet against the floor with a stomp and makes an angry noise, somewhat like a groan. Moomyung smiles to himself. He knows he shouldn’t really be enjoying himself but he is. Hansung’s adorable, and he’s much too cute for his anger to be seen as anything other than bratty behavior. That’s what he is sometimes. Moomyung’s little brat. 


Chapter Text

It’s rare that Suho has a day off--an actual day off where he gets to turn off his phone and sleep in and go out and do something. Sleeping in a rare occurrence between his occupation, his new omega, and his current ongoing case. Being a lawyer was often a full time job that carried into his personal life, no matter how much he tried to contain it. So, when he finally gets his rare day off, he turns off his phone and allows Hansung to drag him to one of the cafes he’s been excited to visit. He hasn’t really been able to have one on one time with the omega since they’ve met, in all honesty, and that doesn’t sit right with him. He promises that today he’s going to spend all his time with him and spoil him, because Hansung is so cute and he’s completely head over heels for him.

It’s nice; he gets to wear jeans and a sweater and not have to drag his bag with him at all. He’s not even carrying a bag today. The two are currently walking there, side by side, Hansung raving about a new discovery that Suho’s trying to pay attention to. They’ve discovered twenty new moons orbiting Saturn, surpassing Jupiter, and Hansung’s so excited that he may as well have discovered them himself. But most of it is Hansung ranting about the moons and their orbits, the years it takes for them to complete orbiting the planet, and how they were discovered with a Subaru telescope in Hawaii. Suho’s got a great attention span, but weaving through the crowds on the street during a Saturday morning has him holding Hansung by the arm or the shoulders so he doesn’t lose him.

“And after they announced the moons, they said that people get to name them! Of course, they’re saying we have to stick to Norse and Gallic mythology but I still think it’s cool--I submitted some ideas but I don’t think they’re any good--hyung, this is it!” Hansung stops and pulls on Suho’s sleeve and Suho almost smacks right into him. 

“Okay, okay, let’s go,” he tries to maneuver around Hansung. He opens the door and ushers him in, following behind him, and instantly feels out of place.

The small cafe is a hole in the wall type of place, with clusters of lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling, walls a dark wood that have look worn over the years. It has a warm atmosphere, with pictures of city landscapes, and murals of art and plants lined up alongside the windows. The tables are the same wood as the walls, and have benches instead of seats, but there’s a couple small tables for couples in the back with wire seats with fancy heart shapes. There’s a board of polaroids on the pillar they’re standing near. 

“There’s the menu,” Hansung is tugging on his sleeve again, pointing up to the menu hung on the opposite wall behind the counter. There’s . . . a ton of flavors Suho’s never seen at a coffee shop before. He skims over all the options, like milk teas, boba, lattes, americanos, smoothies, freezes, and other italian words he’s never seen before but he decides that he’ll literally just take a black coffee because if he has to read the entire menu he’s going to have a stroke.

“I’ll just get a coffee . . . do you know what you want?” Suho watches Hansung chew on his bottom lip.

“I’m deciding, I usually get the rose petal lavender latte but I don’t really want that today--can I get a waffle too?”

“Of course. I didn’t even know they had food . . .” Suho eyes the menu wearily. 

“Yay! Their waffles are really good but they’re kind of big so we’d probably have to share it, but I want to get it with nutella, too, if that’s okay, but I know you don’t like sweet things . . . ?” Hansung looks over at him again and Suho just laughs. He wants to kiss him for being so cute, kiss his chubby little face, and his sweet button nose. 

“It’s fine, get whatever you want,”

“Okay!” 

Before Suho blinks Hansung is bouncing over to the counter and greeting the barista, who he seems to know from school. His order is a long complicated one that he seems to have memorized and the barista has no issue putting into the computer. (“A non-coffee coconut taro latte with oat milk, no bubbles, hot, sweetened, small”). Hansung orders his waffle and asks Suho if he wants a small or large black coffee and Suho almost misses it.

“Small, please, thank you,”

Suho grabs Hansung’s wrist when he takes out his coin purse (it’s not even a wallet and that’s adorable to him). “I’ve got it, don’t worry,”

“Hyung, it’s okay,” Hansung smiles nervously.

“Hansung,” Suho gives him a look and he shies away, nodding silently, eyes dropping to the ground. He’s probably embarrassed because the barista is staring now. Suho feels a twinge of guilt but he lets it slide because Hansung will probably get over it in a few minutes. 

“I’ll go . . . get a table,” Hansung doesn’t look at him but points to the small area in the back where there are no windows, and wanders off. Suho watches him for a moment before turning back to the barista with his card.

“Sorry about that,” Suho smiles.

“It’s fine. Are you his brother? Hansung-ssi is in my physics class,” she swipes it and turns the monitor around so he can sign.

“Oh, no, I’m not. We’re on a date actually,” he takes his card back, noticing the small surprise in the girl’s eyes. 

“Oh, well, have fun! I’ll call Hansung’s name when your order’s ready.”

“Thanks,”

He goes to find his sulking mate in the back of the cafe, swinging his feet absentmindedly while he plays with the keychain on his coin purse. Suho sits down across from him and tries to place his hand over Hansung’s.

“Hey. I didn’t mean to be stern with you before. I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“Hm?” Hansung finally meets his eyes. “Oh, yeah, it’s okay! I’m not mad. It was just . . . a little weird?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s okay,” Hansung pulls his hand away and puts his coin purse away. Suho admires how cute he looks in his maroon kitty sweater, something Ahro bought him a few weeks back. It goes well with his honey complexion and rosy cheeks. “But I could’ve paid . . .”

“Stop it,” Suho sings in a gentle voice, reassuring him, “it’s okay.”

Hansung goes to pout again but Suho tries to stop him. “So, twenty new planets.”

“Yeah!” Hansung lights up now, dark eyes sparkling as he begins to chatter away again. “I pretty much said everything there was to say but I hope they finish naming them soon!”

“Yeah,” Suho feels a little . . . dumb, when Hansung talks about all this, because he knows nothing about astronomy. Other than what he was taught in high school, of course. “I’m glad you’re excited. That’s a big discovery.”

“It is! It’s a lot better than the Andromeda news . . .”

“Hansung!” The barista waves over to them and Hansung springs out of his seat and over to the counter before Suho can even ask what the Andromeda is and what’s happening to it. He watches Hansung thank the barista before grabbing their tray and slowly shuffling his way back to their table, careful to not spill anything of the drinks. He places the tray down neatly and Suho admires the cute purple drink with a swirling white heart designed into the drink, and the waffle covered in drizzles of nutella, sprinkled with powdered sugar with two singular strawberries on the side. It was cute. But Hansung was right, it was a decently sized waffle. 

“Do you want sugar in your coffee?” Hansung holds out the sugar packets and Suho thanks him. “Do you want to try mine?”

“I’m okay, thanks,”

“Okay,” Hansung sips his before sliding the plate over to himself. 

“So, you were telling me about the Andromeda . . . ?”

“Right!” Hansung bounces in his seat while cutting up the waffle, mixing together the nutella, sugar and strawberry, crushing it with his fork in a messy disastrous state. “So, the Andromeda is a big galaxy, and she’s probably going to eat the milky way next but by the time that happens we’re probably all going to be dead, so it’s fine, really,”

“E-Excuse me?” Suho’s eyes widen. What in the actual hell was Hansung talking about. 

“The Andromeda is a big galaxy and she’s going to”--

“No, Hansung, can you explain in depth? What that even means? Remember you’re talking to someone who knows nothing about astronomy whatsoever.”

“Oh, okay,” Hansung giggles, “the Andromeda is a galaxy, like ours, but it’s really big. And it’s a cannibal! It’s got a complex stellar halo compared to the Milky Way which means it’s eaten galaxies probably even bigger than ours. A stellar halo is basically the big amount of stars surrounding the galaxy. Anyway it’s going to collide with our galaxy in like . . . four billion years or something like that, so it’ll probably eat the Milky Way. But humans will probably be extinct, or we’ll be like, fish people or something.”

Suho understands now. “Space is . . . kind of scary, actually,”

“It is. Especially when it involves galaxies like that,” Hansung cuts up his waffle, “the Andromeda galaxy is my big tiddie goth girlfriend, honestly.”

“Hansung. Don’t say that out loud.”

“Hm?” Hansung isn’t listening to Suho anymore, too busy eating his waffle. “I mean space is creepier than people think. Do you want to know more scary things about it?”

“Not . . . really,” Suho whispers. “I think I’ve had enough of an existential crisis for today thinking about our entire universe being eaten.”

“Well, chunks of the Milky Way have already been sucked away for like, almost a decade or so. And meteors can strike earth at any time, really, so we’re kind of powerless when it comes to the whole universe. Like I said, we’ll probably all be”--

“Yeah, Hansung, I got it. This is actually a little creepy, let’s stop,” Suho smiles but he’s hiding the weird intimate connection he feels with the galaxy he lives in, and the weird anxiety he has about it randomly . . . vanishing. “Next time, just tell me good news, like new moons, or something.”

“Well, space is good and bad,” he points his fork at him, “that’s why I love it. And the Andromeda.”

“So you’ve said. But you can save the scary facts for Ahro.” Suho hopes to change the topic of conversation before Hansung mentions his ‘big tiddie goth gf’ again. He knows that Ahro is the only one of them who loves conversing with Hansung about terrifying things, like the universe or medical mysteries, and the two of them get along well because of it. Out of all of them, he’s always crawling into her bed to tell her about his day, and lets her brush his hair and kiss his face. It’s sweet and Suho loves when Hansung will wander about the house smelling of Ahro. He hopes that soon he and Hansung can have their own special talks. But first, he needs to get to know him better. 

“I already told her about it,” he’s talking with his mouth full, “and she knows about other stuff, too.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t feel bad, hyung,” Hansung gives him a contemplating look now, “I mean . . . it’s not like I really have anything interesting to say about law or . . . sports or”--

“Hansung, you’re interesting enough. We don’t need to discuss things that we have in common. Just being with you is enough,”

Hansung stops chewing for a moment and stares at the table, lips pursed like he’s trying to think about what he’s going to say. Suho easily picks up on the body language Hansung exhibits when he’s uncomfortable and he knows that Hansung might be a little out of his comfort zone right now. That’s fine. He can wait until he trusts him enough to speak openly, so he doesn’t have to be selective with his words. But he’s probably just trying to be respectful and Suho appreciates that. He sips his coffee until Hansung is ready to speak.

“W . . . why though?” the question is said so quietly Suho has to lean forward to catch it.

“Why? What do you mean?”

Hansung is chewing his fingernails. “Why do you like me? Just because we’re, you know, mates and stuff? It seems kind of weird to just commit to someone without even knowing them. Doesn’t it? Like, you like me just cause you have to . . .”

“No,” Suho begins, “I like you because I like you. Realistically, betas probably don’t experience that bond to the degree you do, but I still feel a fondness for you, a need to keep you safe. And it doesn’t necessarily have to be through bond. I felt that feeling when I first met you, you know. You’re so sweet, and caring, and you’re really smart. I’m proud to have an omega like you.”

Hansung is now visibly more uncomfortable than before and he leans forward, waiting for Suho to do the same so he can whisper. “An omega like me?”

“I’m confused Hansung. What are you asking?”

“I . . . nothing. It’s dumb, hyung, don’t worry!” Hansung laughs and sips his latte. Suho doesn’t know whether or not he wants to press him to say what he was going to. He wants this date to go well and be a good experience. Hansung was so excited to bring him here, a space he obviously feels safe in, so he doesn’t want him to associate that with any stress.

“Whatever you were going to say isn’t dumb. Your feelings aren’t dumb. You can tell me anything, right?”

“Y-yeah, it was just . . . silly, though, promise. I trust you, hyung. It’s just that I . . . don’t really like what you said before.”

“What was it I said?”

“When you called me omega . . . I thought I was more than that.”

Suho frowns. He’s not really sure what Hansung is talking about but he obviously didn’t like something that was said. 

“Do you want to be more?” 

Hansung’s eyes widen. “I-I mean . . . I thought we were . . . boyfriends ,” he hisses the last word like it’s vulgar and Suho almost laughs out loud. He’s so angelic , sinfully sweet, dizzyingly so. 

“I’m sorry, of course we are. I didn’t mean it in any negative context. I’m glad to have a boyfriend like you,” he corrects himself. Hansung nods. 

“Boyfriends!” He holds out his pinky for a pinky promise and Suho laughs. He engages Hansung and takes his pinky and lets Hansung swing their hands back and forth. 

“Yes, boyfriends.”

 

Chapter Text

All his alphas have distinct smells, Hansung knows by now. He can scent them by their smell alone, identify them, their emotions and their responses to his own scent; even though he has no idea what that smells like. He knows most people don’t know their own scents, are too used to them, but when he asks his hyungs what he smells like they just say ‘sweet’ or ‘sugary’. It’s too vague. 

He’s in and out consciousness, lying on his bed when he smells the ripe anise that is Ahro’s scent. But it’s too strong, too bitter, making his eyes sting just a bit. She’s mad. He jolts awake by the slam of the door and his stomach does a flip; she’s never been angry before. Especially at anyone in the house. He checks the time, seeing it as earlier in the morning, and soon gathers that she’s probably coming home from work. Maybe she’s upset about something at the hospital. 

Her scent is too overwhelming and he’s jittery now so he grabs his throw blanket and peeks out of his door to make sure the coast is clear before wandering to her and Moomyung’s room. It smells only of her now. He knocks on the door and waits for her to tell him to come in.

“Hansungie, did you need something? Sorry if I woke you up . . .”

She’s on the bed, now changed into her sweats, and putting her hair up. Hansung crawls into the bed with his blanket that he’d been scenting in his sleep and over to her. “You’re mad.”

“Hm?”

“You smell mad,” he says. “Did . . . something happen?”

Ahro sighs and glances around the room. The room is painted grey, with a dark plush carpet and maroon bedding on the king sized bed. It’s firm but plush like a memory foam bed and it’s nice to nap on but he doesn’t like sleeping on it. The curtains match the bedding with ruby beads, and there’s two dressers with a mirror pushed side by side on the opposite wall. Hansung doesn’t venture in here often, it reminds him of spooky royalty bedrooms, and he wishes Moomyung and Ahro would change the color spectrum of the room. It’s too contrast from his own bright galaxy painted walls and his bright yellow blankets. He’s got no real color scheme. His bed is a catastrophe of anything he finds cute; several blankets, a comforter, his stuffed animals, books he’s fallen asleep reading, other various items he hasn’t put away in drawers. His blankets are yellow and pink and the comforter is decorated with peaches. His pillow cases don’t match either, and he’s got four or five that he nests with. He never cleans his bed, which is why every other week when it’s time to wash all the blankets, sheets and pillow cases, he has a hard time wrestling them off underneath everything. It’s almost weird to be sitting in his mates’ bed because of how clean and made up it is. It only takes them seconds to strip the bed for laundry.

She pulls him into her lap and rubs her cheek against his head taking a deep breath. “Just work. Just those alpha men thinking they know better than me. I’m more disappointed than upset.”

Hansung doesn’t really buy into that but he nods. “Alpha men are the worst.”

"Right. But enough of them. I'm just glad to be home with you,"

He hums and she breathes praises into his hair.

Hansung has never met her coworkers and he never wants to. It’s not the first time they’ve annoyed her, but it is the first time she’s come home and smelt like this. He’s heard stories of them talking over her despite being of equal rank, all doctors in the midst of their residencies, all alphas. Hansung doesn’t think secondary gender really matters when it comes to these kinds of things; doctors of any gender, first or second, should all treat one another equally. But Ahro is an alpha woman and when they talk over her he knows it’s not coming from a place of respect. They’re also not friendly to the patients and he wonders why anyone would ever be a doctor if they didn’t want to help people. They make him nervous to even go for a check up. 

He scents her, or tries to, rubbing himself on her neck while he thinks about how hard it must be to work beside people who don’t respect you. She hums in amusement and they become tangled up in one another, sharing scents and marking one another like guileless teens. Hansung looks up at her for a moment and smiles when her face seems to be free of any aggravation. 

“Noona?”

“Yes, Hansungie?” she calls his voice in a cooing tone that makes him blush. He likes when she calls him that.

“What do I smell like? My scent, I mean. The hyungs say it’s sweet but . . . what does it really smell like?”

“Leave it to them to be as vague as ever,” she rolls her eyes but it’s a joke, “you do smell sweet, but not like sweet things, like . . . waffles. Syrup. The thick kind of maple, that’s natural,”

Maple. He smells like Maple. He marks her again and she laughs.

“Okay, okay, someone’s happy,”

“I smell like pancakes !”

“Yes, you smell like pancakes,” she confirms. “And you never smell anything other than content and happy.”

“Even when I’m crying?”

“When you cry, it’s a little washed, like watery, but it’s not bitter or burnt like other omegas. It’s hard to describe.”

Hansung wonders what a burnt scent smells like, especially coming from a fellow omega. He’s never smelled anything like it before. He’s smelled one or two angry omegas, lots of sad ones, but their scents were never bitter or burnt, just overpowering like the perfume section of the mall he avoids. Like he wants to gag. 

“I wonder what that smells like . . .”

“You don’t want to know, trust me,”

“Do the hyungs get like that?” he looks up from his spot slouching down in her lap. She shakes her head. “Oh, good,”

His hyungs also smell good, but he can’t imagine their scents overpowering like Ahro’s had been. Suho hyung smells fruity, tropical, a little like mangoes, orangey citrus. Moomyung smells like . . . white. Anything white and clean, like fresh laundry, mopped floors, those fresh kinds of candles at the store that are white and always have a clean neutral scent. He can’t imagine that ever smelling as strongly as hers. He tells her.

“Doesn’t Moomyung hyung smell like laundry?”

“A little. Like dryer sheets and detergent?”

“Yeah. He smells funny. I like it,” he closes his eyes, hoping to fall asleep in her embrace. He loves napping with Ahro because she’s gentle and considerate, never waking him up even if she moves. He’s not sure how she does it but all he knows is when he’s napping on the others, no matter how quiet they are, he always wakes up when they move around. She’s more secure. 

The door creaks open and Suho sticks his head in. “Everything alright in here? You smelled so strong I think you woke up the whole block.”

“Everything’s fine,” Ahro whispers, “go away.”

“Okay, okay,” 

Hansung giggles against her chest, feeling warm when she starts to groom him, fingers effortlessly combing through his thick hair. He pushes his head up and against her fingers. She kisses his cheek, crooning, and he melts into her embrace, becoming hers and hers fully. He hopes that he’s distracting her from any more thoughts of disrespectful doctors.

“You’re so sweet, Hansungie, such a good boy. Thank you for being so good for me. Good omega coming to care for your alpha,”

“Noona,” he mumbles sleepily, responding to her soothing scent.

“What’s that?” she’s massaging his scalp now, pressing kisses along the nape of his neck, brushing just over his scent glands. Her breath tickles his skin and gives him goosebumps. “Tell your noona.”

“You feel nice. Smell nice.”

“Go to sleep, baby, rest your eyes for me.”

“Trying,”

“No more talking, sleep,” she kisses his shoulder now, waiting for him to drift off again. He hopes that she’s drifting off with him as well, or it’s just him sleeping on her, and that wasn’t his intention. But he falls asleep before he can really hear the subtle change of her breathing, and he doesn’t know whether or not she’s sleeping under him.



Chapter Text

Hansung day is just trash. He’s having an awful day and it keeps getting worse and worse. He wakes up in an oddly bad mood; he’s not sure why everything is irritating and annoying him but is is . Then, not only is he late to two of his classes because he’s missed the bus, he’s forgot his homework, his head is throbbing, he’s gotten one of his textbooks wet in the rain and gets chewed out for being late to his second class, which really isn’t his fault because he was trying to dry off his textbook. He knows his professor is just being kind of a dick so he just grits his teeth and ignores it. But when he drops his coffee in the hall and most of it ends up on his sneakers that’s the final straw and he quickly mops it up with a scratchy paper towel before going to the bathroom to cry in the stall. 

It’s kind of gross crying in the chemistry lab bathroom but he needs to have his meltdown somewhere. He wants to go home. His head still hurts and he’s in such a bad mood that his stomach is starting to act up. Or maybe it’s the fact he’s only had a bagel and a few sips of coffee today. He’s only got one more class but he’s having an absolute meltdown because he feels so useless compared to his peers. At least some luck is on his side because he’s all alone in the bathroom and no one comes in to hear his crying.

When his phone vibrates in his bag he ignores it, favoring his emotional processing session over it. He’s feeling too many things he can’t handle right now. If he has to talk to anyone he’s just going to start hiccuping.

When his phone starts going off again he decides he’s done and doesn’t even check the ID.

What!? ” He yells into the phone, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

“Excuse me?” Moomyung’s voice answers. Hansung feels a little guilty but he’s having the worst day and he’s going to let it take over the rational part of his brain. “Hansung, what’s going on? I called to tell you I was leaving work early.” 

Leaving work early? Maybe the angels above didn’t hate him as much as he thought. With a choked whisper Hansung decides that calculus can go fuck itself. “Can you pick me up?”

“Are you alright? What happened?”

“I just don’t feel good ,” the last part comes out as a whine and Hansung starts crying again. Just great , he thinks to himself. He’s crying like a brat in the bathroom because he’s dropped his coffee and can’t handle his own shit. He wishes that he could just grow up. He’s such a dumb baby no wonder his mates treat him like so. 

“Alright, I’m coming. Are you sick? Are you hurt?”

Moomyung’s voice is often a deep and stable tone but when Hansung hears the concern laced right on top he just cries, not answering. Moomyung is going to think he’s so immature once he realizes that he’s picking him up because he’s had a bad day. He hasn’t had a meltdown in so long he’s forgotten how awful and out of control he feels.

“Hansung, please answer me. What’s wrong?”

Hansung dries his eyes with the back of his hands and tries to calm down. “Don’ wanna talk about it—jus’ wan’ you,”

He’s never hated himself more.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’ll be in the main parking lot. Okay?”

“Uh huh.”

“Can you wash your face and take some deep breaths for me? I won’t hang up.”

Hansung really doesn’t want to. He wants to just scream and cry until he tires himself out and falls asleep.

“Can’t,” he whines, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t ,”

“Hansung, you’re okay. I’m coming to get you. Can you come to the parking lot?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ll be there soon.”

“Hyung, can I hang up? It’s rainy outside.”

“Okay. I’ll see you soon, love.”

Love. Hansung feels weird about being called love. He thinks it’s weird that Moomyung and Ahro and Suho actually love him. He’s just a college kid and he’s not special and he cries too much and he’s not that smart. They always tell him how lovely he is and how much they love him but he’s not sure whether or not he really believes it. 

 He grabs his bag and books it out of the school, ignoring the concerned looks from others as he heads outside in the rain to go stand in the parking lot. He pops his umbrella open and lets the chill of the rainy wind cool his face. His eyes are probably red and puffy but he doesn’t care how gross he looks right now. Very soon after Moomyung’s black car is rolling right up to the curb he’s waiting on and he yanks open the door and climbs in, shaking his umbrella out before throwing it in the backseat. Moomyung is watching him intensely, waiting for something, but Hansung just buckles his seatbelt.

“Hansung, what happened?” He touches Hansung’s face, cradling the back of his head. “Can you talk to me?”

Hansung is still lightly crying, but he’s calmed down significantly from the bathroom to the car. He sniffs and tries not to sound whiny or needy.

“A lot; I had a really bad day and my head hurts really bad and my stomach feels weird.”

“I’m sorry baby,” Moomyung goes to take his hand, massaging his pressure points, kissing the back of his hand. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Not really,”

“Well, we’re going home now, today can be over if you want it to be.”

Moomyung goes to pull away from the curb and Hansung rests his head back and closes his eyes. His alpha’s words takes a weight off his shoulders. He didn’t have to deal with anything from today anymore. It could be over if he wanted it to be. He takes a deep breath and just listens to the rain pounding against the road as they drive by.

A part of him still wants to ask for Moomyung’s . . . approval, maybe, that meltdowns we’re still appropriate at his age but he’s too embarrassed. The more he rests the sillier he feels. And he feels much too silly to go ‘hey, Hyung, is it okay that I nearly threw a fit?’ But Ahro won’t be home for a few more hours and he needs someone to talk to.

“U-um, Hyung?”

“Hm?” 

Moomyung gives Hansung a small glance to let him know he’s listening. Should he really be distracting him while he’s driving in the rain? For something like validation especially?

“I . . . can I talk to you?”

“Of course. I’m listening,”

Hansung plays with the ring on his thumb, twisting it up and down and around his finger. “I’m sorry you had to come get me. I just, I’m, I-I didn’t know how to . . . handle everything.”

“It’s fine, Hansungie, don’t apologize. You shouldn’t have to apologize for your emotions,”

Hansung’s stomach twists. “I had a meltdown. After I dropped my coffee. It was just—that’s not the only reason! It was just the final straw. I guess I just woke up in a bad mood.”

“That’s okay.”

Hansung starts to cry again now, not feeling comfortable with Moomyung’s responses. They’re both probably a little confused, dancing around one another too cautiously to the point where it seems casual. He hates it.

“I barely got to drink my coffee and I dropped it and it got all over my shoes and my shoes are wet! And my textbook got wet and I was late to two classes because I missed the bus and I know you always get me there on time but it was my fault and my professor was mean and I forgot my worksheet and I feel like I’m being stabbed in the eye! And I’m hungry but my stomach hurts!” 

Hansung tries not to lose control but when Moomyung pulls the car over he can’t help but cry into his hands. His parents harsh words are playing in the back of his head like a broken record, the shame and stigma of his overstimulated behavior coursing through his body. Crybaby, crybaby. It makes him feel even worse. And to top it off he was crying in Moomyung’s car and he cannot stop. 

“I’ll buy you a new coffe”—

“It’s not just that!”

“Hansung,” Moomyung’s voice is soft and he’s pulling him as close as he can in the front seat, “it’s okay. It’s not your fault. You had a bad day and your cup is too full and you’re very overwhelmed.”

“I am and it sucks and I can’t stop crying, I’m sorry!”

“Shh, crying is perfectly normal.”

“M-my parents said it was for babies and attention seeking but I can’t help it! It’s not my fault !” 

“Exactly. It’s not your fault. You’re not a baby, you’re a college student with a full plate. You need a way to process your emotions but because you’re not on medication or seeing a therapist you can’t exactly do that on your own, can you?”

Hansung shakes his head. Moomyung is kissing his hands up and down, squeezing them.

“I know you’re a smart boy and know all about the spoons and cup theory, I don’t need to explain them. But you need to stop punishing yourself for things that are beyond your control. Today was not your day and that’s okay. Cry all you want, you’re not a baby and you’re not seeking attention. It’s not a tantrum Hansung it’s a meltdown. I’m glad I was able to come get you, I’m glad you trust me enough to talk to me.”

“I didn’t want you to think I was a brat. Everyone else used to.”

“You’re not a brat. Though you can be bratty,” Moomyung laughs a little and his breath tickles Hansung’s hand. He frowns, not happy with the joke. “Sorry baby. But it's over now. Hyung will take you home and we’ll change into pajamas and you can take a nap after you eat something.”

Hansung nods and wipes his eyes again. All the crying has left his head pounding on the left side of his head which is the worst. “Can we go now?”

“Of course, little prince,” Moomyung presses his lips to Hansung’s palm before starting the engine again and pulling back onto the road. Hansung blows his nose on the sleeve of his sweater and immediately Moomyung raises his voice.

“Don’t! Do that. There’s tissues in the glove box. Don’t do that,”

Hansung snorts a little, seeing how grossed out he’s gotten over it. He doesn’t think it’s a big deal—he’s going to throw his clothes into the laundry once he’s home anyway. 

“Sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Do you do that often? Blow your nose on your clothes?”

“No?”

“Because if you do I’m not hugging you anymore.”

Hansung takes the small packet of tissues out of the glovebox to blow his nose properly. “It’s just snot. It’s not a big deal.”

“Use the tissues,” 

Hansung rests his head back again but opts to stare at Moomyung instead of try and nap. He wishes he could hold his hand again but he’s driving and wants to make it home in one piece. 

“Hyung, thanks.”

“For the tissues? Or the sweater I bought you that you used as a tissue?” 

Moomyung’s lips peak into a small smile and Hansung giggles. 

“No. For picking me up and being nice to me.”

“I’m always nice to you, aren’t I?” Moomyung stops at a light and turns to him.

“You know what I mean! Just—letting me cry. I just need to cry sometimes and then I’ll be okay but . . .”

Moomyung starts driving once the light turns green. “But?”

“Oh I wasn’t going to finish that sentence, I had nothing else to say. Millennial culture.”

“I wasn’t aware of that aspect of millennial culture but alright.” 

Hansung is quiet the rest of the ride until they pull up to the house, in which Moomyung tells him to wait getting out. He opens the door for him and grabs his bag while Hansung goes to grab his umbrella. He holds the umbrella while Moomyung unlocks the door and he rushes inside, tossing his boots off onto the mat in the entry hall. The house is warm and smells like soup broth which means Suho must be home.

“Who’s here?” He calls from the kitchen.

“It’s us,” Moomyung says, having trouble pulling his shoe off. Hansung decides to leave his bag on the hook and forget about it for tonight completely. He doesn’t want to bother with school work or his phone for now. He just wants ibuprofen and a nap.

“You’re both back early?” Suho stands in the hall now just out of the kitchen doorway. He looks a little suspicious but doesn’t ask anything else.

“Yup. We’re gonna have a quiet night in.” Moomyung finally frees his foot from the shoe and neatly lined them up on the mat. 

“Cool. I made soup—Hansungie, what happened? Your eyes are all red.”

“I smoked a fat blunt.”

What ?” Suho looks from Hansung to Moomyung, bewildered. “Are you kidding?”

Moomyung snickers.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! I, um, had a, I guess, a meltdown. I’m okay—I just don’t feel good.”

“Oh,” Suho’s face softens, “well go get changed, okay? Do you want aspirin or anything? You should eat something before you take it, there’s soup and crackers, so get some of that. And drink some water you’re probably dehydrated.”

Hansung nods as he shuffles upstairs to change into his sweats. Part of him kind of wishes he stuck with the blunt lie but his mates seem keen on taking care of him. It’s a nice change from growing up shunned for being a crybaby.

Once he’s changed he heads downstairs to get something for his headache, deciding to take it before he eats anything. His stomach still feels queasy from the ride and hopefully it’ll settle with a couple ibuprofen. His mates are on the couch, Moomyung in sweatpants, sipping broth out of a mug. Hansung sits on the couch and lies against him. 

“You don’t want anything to eat?”

“No, my stomach still feels funny.”

“My poor baby,” Moomyung pulls him into his lap and Hansung rests his head against his shoulder. 

“I’m tired,”

“Take a nap. I’m not going anywhere,”

Hansung feels Moomyung press a kiss to his head, his large hands rubbing circles onto his back. It’s soothing enough for him to close his eyes but he doesn’t fall asleep, enjoying the warmth radiating from his alpha. Moomyung can be as sweet as he is strict and that’s okay, really. He just wants to be held, glad that today is finally over. 

Chapter Text

Hansung day is just trash. He’s having an awful day and it keeps getting worse and worse. He wakes up in an oddly bad mood; he’s not sure why everything is irritating and annoying him but is is . Then, not only is he late to two of his classes because he’s missed the bus, he’s forgot his homework, his head is throbbing, he’s gotten one of his textbooks wet in the rain and gets chewed out for being late to his second class, which really isn’t his fault because he was trying to dry off his textbook. He knows his professor is just being kind of a dick so he just grits his teeth and ignores it. But when he drops his coffee in the hall and most of it ends up on his sneakers that’s the final straw and he quickly mops it up with a scratchy paper towel before going to the bathroom to cry in the stall. 

It’s kind of gross crying in the chemistry lab bathroom but he needs to have his meltdown somewhere. He wants to go home. His head still hurts and he’s in such a bad mood that his stomach is starting to act up. Or maybe it’s the fact he’s only had a bagel and a few sips of coffee today. He’s only got one more class but he’s having an absolute meltdown because he feels so useless compared to his peers. At least some luck is on his side because he’s all alone in the bathroom and no one comes in to hear his crying.

When his phone vibrates in his bag he ignores it, favoring his emotional processing session over it. He’s feeling too many things he can’t handle right now. If he has to talk to anyone he’s just going to start hiccuping.

When his phone starts going off again he decides he’s done and doesn’t even check the ID.

What!? ” He yells into the phone, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

“Excuse me?” Moomyung’s voice answers. Hansung feels a little guilty but he’s having the worst day and he’s going to let it take over the rational part of his brain. “Hansung, what’s going on? I called to tell you I was leaving work early.” 

Leaving work early? Maybe the angels above didn’t hate him as much as he thought. With a choked whisper Hansung decides that calculus can go fuck itself. “Can you pick me up?”

“Are you alright? What happened?”

“I just don’t feel good ,” the last part comes out as a whine and Hansung starts crying again. Just great , he thinks to himself. He’s crying like a brat in the bathroom because he’s dropped his coffee and can’t handle his own shit. He wishes that he could just grow up. He’s such a dumb baby no wonder his mates treat him like so. 

“Alright, I’m coming. Are you sick? Are you hurt?”

Moomyung’s voice is often a deep and stable tone but when Hansung hears the concern laced right on top he just cries, not answering. Moomyung is going to think he’s so immature once he realizes that he’s picking him up because he’s had a bad day. He hasn’t had a meltdown in so long he’s forgotten how awful and out of control he feels.

“Hansung, please answer me. What’s wrong?”

Hansung dries his eyes with the back of his hands and tries to calm down. “Don’ wanna talk about it—jus’ wan’ you,”

He’s never hated himself more.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’ll be in the main parking lot. Okay?”

“Uh huh.”

“Can you wash your face and take some deep breaths for me? I won’t hang up.”

Hansung really doesn’t want to. He wants to just scream and cry until he tires himself out and falls asleep.

“Can’t,” he whines, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t ,”

“Hansung, you’re okay. I’m coming to get you. Can you come to the parking lot?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ll be there soon.”

“Hyung, can I hang up? It’s rainy outside.”

“Okay. I’ll see you soon, love.”

Love. Hansung feels weird about being called love. He thinks it’s weird that Moomyung and Ahro and Suho actually love him. He’s just a college kid and he’s not special and he cries too much and he’s not that smart. They always tell him how lovely he is and how much they love him but he’s not sure whether or not he really believes it. 

 He grabs his bag and books it out of the school, ignoring the concerned looks from others as he heads outside in the rain to go stand in the parking lot. He pops his umbrella open and lets the chill of the rainy wind cool his face. His eyes are probably red and puffy but he doesn’t care how gross he looks right now. Very soon after Moomyung’s black car is rolling right up to the curb he’s waiting on and he yanks open the door and climbs in, shaking his umbrella out before throwing it in the backseat. Moomyung is watching him intensely, waiting for something, but Hansung just buckles his seatbelt.

“Hansung, what happened?” He touches Hansung’s face, cradling the back of his head. “Can you talk to me?”

Hansung is still lightly crying, but he’s calmed down significantly from the bathroom to the car. He sniffs and tries not to sound whiny or needy.

“A lot; I had a really bad day and my head hurts really bad and my stomach feels weird.”

“I’m sorry baby,” Moomyung goes to take his hand, massaging his pressure points, kissing the back of his hand. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Not really,”

“Well, we’re going home now, today can be over if you want it to be.”

Moomyung goes to pull away from the curb and Hansung rests his head back and closes his eyes. His alpha’s words takes a weight off his shoulders. He didn’t have to deal with anything from today anymore. It could be over if he wanted it to be. He takes a deep breath and just listens to the rain pounding against the road as they drive by.

A part of him still wants to ask for Moomyung’s . . . approval, maybe, that meltdowns we’re still appropriate at his age but he’s too embarrassed. The more he rests the sillier he feels. And he feels much too silly to go ‘hey, Hyung, is it okay that I nearly threw a fit?’ But Ahro won’t be home for a few more hours and he needs someone to talk to.

“U-um, Hyung?”

“Hm?” 

Moomyung gives Hansung a small glance to let him know he’s listening. Should he really be distracting him while he’s driving in the rain? For something like validation especially?

“I . . . can I talk to you?”

“Of course. I’m listening,”

Hansung plays with the ring on his thumb, twisting it up and down and around his finger. “I’m sorry you had to come get me. I just, I’m, I-I didn’t know how to . . . handle everything.”

“It’s fine, Hansungie, don’t apologize. You shouldn’t have to apologize for your emotions,”

Hansung’s stomach twists. “I had a meltdown. After I dropped my coffee. It was just—that’s not the only reason! It was just the final straw. I guess I just woke up in a bad mood.”

“That’s okay.”

Hansung starts to cry again now, not feeling comfortable with Moomyung’s responses. They’re both probably a little confused, dancing around one another too cautiously to the point where it seems casual. He hates it.

“I barely got to drink my coffee and I dropped it and it got all over my shoes and my shoes are wet! And my textbook got wet and I was late to two classes because I missed the bus and I know you always get me there on time but it was my fault and my professor was mean and I forgot my worksheet and I feel like I’m being stabbed in the eye! And I’m hungry but my stomach hurts!” 

Hansung tries not to lose control but when Moomyung pulls the car over he can’t help but cry into his hands. His parents harsh words are playing in the back of his head like a broken record, the shame and stigma of his overstimulated behavior coursing through his body. Crybaby, crybaby. It makes him feel even worse. And to top it off he was crying in Moomyung’s car and he cannot stop. 

“I’ll buy you a new coffe”—

“It’s not just that!”

“Hansung,” Moomyung’s voice is soft and he’s pulling him as close as he can in the front seat, “it’s okay. It’s not your fault. You had a bad day and your cup is too full and you’re very overwhelmed.”

“I am and it sucks and I can’t stop crying, I’m sorry!”

“Shh, crying is perfectly normal.”

“M-my parents said it was for babies and attention seeking but I can’t help it! It’s not my fault !” 

“Exactly. It’s not your fault. You’re not a baby, you’re a college student with a full plate. You need a way to process your emotions but because you’re not on medication or seeing a therapist you can’t exactly do that on your own, can you?”

Hansung shakes his head. Moomyung is kissing his hands up and down, squeezing them.

“I know you’re a smart boy and know all about the spoons and cup theory, I don’t need to explain them. But you need to stop punishing yourself for things that are beyond your control. Today was not your day and that’s okay. Cry all you want, you’re not a baby and you’re not seeking attention. It’s not a tantrum Hansung it’s a meltdown. I’m glad I was able to come get you, I’m glad you trust me enough to talk to me.”

“I didn’t want you to think I was a brat. Everyone else used to.”

“You’re not a brat. Though you can be bratty,” Moomyung laughs a little and his breath tickles Hansung’s hand. He frowns, not happy with the joke. “Sorry baby. But it's over now. Hyung will take you home and we’ll change into pajamas and you can take a nap after you eat something.”

Hansung nods and wipes his eyes again. All the crying has left his head pounding on the left side of his head which is the worst. “Can we go now?”

“Of course, little prince,” Moomyung presses his lips to Hansung’s palm before starting the engine again and pulling back onto the road. Hansung blows his nose on the sleeve of his sweater and immediately Moomyung raises his voice.

“Don’t! Do that. There’s tissues in the glove box. Don’t do that,”

Hansung snorts a little, seeing how grossed out he’s gotten over it. He doesn’t think it’s a big deal—he’s going to throw his clothes into the laundry once he’s home anyway. 

“Sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Do you do that often? Blow your nose on your clothes?”

“No?”

“Because if you do I’m not hugging you anymore.”

Hansung takes the small packet of tissues out of the glovebox to blow his nose properly. “It’s just snot. It’s not a big deal.”

“Use the tissues,” 

Hansung rests his head back again but opts to stare at Moomyung instead of try and nap. He wishes he could hold his hand again but he’s driving and wants to make it home in one piece. 

“Hyung, thanks.”

“For the tissues? Or the sweater I bought you that you used as a tissue?” 

Moomyung’s lips peak into a small smile and Hansung giggles. 

“No. For picking me up and being nice to me.”

“I’m always nice to you, aren’t I?” Moomyung stops at a light and turns to him.

“You know what I mean! Just—letting me cry. I just need to cry sometimes and then I’ll be okay but . . .”

Moomyung starts driving once the light turns green. “But?”

“Oh I wasn’t going to finish that sentence, I had nothing else to say. Millennial culture.”

“I wasn’t aware of that aspect of millennial culture but alright.” 

Hansung is quiet the rest of the ride until they pull up to the house, in which Moomyung tells him to wait getting out. He opens the door for him and grabs his bag while Hansung goes to grab his umbrella. He holds the umbrella while Moomyung unlocks the door and he rushes inside, tossing his boots off onto the mat in the entry hall. The house is warm and smells like soup broth which means Suho must be home.

“Who’s here?” He calls from the kitchen.

“It’s us,” Moomyung says, having trouble pulling his shoe off. Hansung decides to leave his bag on the hook and forget about it for tonight completely. He doesn’t want to bother with school work or his phone for now. He just wants ibuprofen and a nap.

“You’re both back early?” Suho stands in the hall now just out of the kitchen doorway. He looks a little suspicious but doesn’t ask anything else.

“Yup. We’re gonna have a quiet night in.” Moomyung finally frees his foot from the shoe and neatly lined them up on the mat. 

“Cool. I made soup—Hansungie, what happened? Your eyes are all red.”

“I smoked a fat blunt.”

What ?” Suho looks from Hansung to Moomyung, bewildered. “Are you kidding?”

Moomyung snickers.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! I, um, had a, I guess, a meltdown. I’m okay—I just don’t feel good.”

“Oh,” Suho’s face softens, “well go get changed, okay? Do you want aspirin or anything? You should eat something before you take it, there’s soup and crackers, so get some of that. And drink some water you’re probably dehydrated.”

Hansung nods as he shuffles upstairs to change into his sweats. Part of him kind of wishes he stuck with the blunt lie but his mates seem keen on taking care of him. It’s a nice change from growing up shunned for being a crybaby.

Once he’s changed he heads downstairs to get something for his headache, deciding to take it before he eats anything. His stomach still feels queasy from the ride and hopefully it’ll settle with a couple ibuprofen. His mates are on the couch, Moomyung in sweatpants, sipping broth out of a mug. Hansung sits on the couch and lies against him. 

“You don’t want anything to eat?”

“No, my stomach still feels funny.”

“My poor baby,” Moomyung pulls him into his lap and Hansung rests his head against his shoulder. 

“I’m tired,”

“Take a nap. I’m not going anywhere,”

Hansung feels Moomyung press a kiss to his head, his large hands rubbing circles onto his back. It’s soothing enough for him to close his eyes but he doesn’t fall asleep, enjoying the warmth radiating from his alpha. Moomyung can be as sweet as he is strict and that’s okay, really. He just wants to be held, glad that today is finally over. 

Chapter Text

Suho must’ve felt bad about Hansung’s horrible day because he offers to take him shopping for new bedding and curtains to replace the old ones. Suho encourages him to come along, explaining that he has no taste in curtains and doesn’t want his room to turn into a monochrome nightmare like Moomyung’s. Hansung goes because shopping is fun and shopping with Suho would be more fun. 

 

It’s only fun before his stomach is cramping and he panics because he knows those cramps and he quickly rushes to the bathroom. He curses himself for wearing light blue wash jeans and white underwear because the universe seems to hate him. He swears loudly when he confirms the blood and rests his head on the stall’s wall. It’s not as gross as it sounds he reasons. No one’s been here because it’s so early, right?

 

He really doesn’t want to go home but he can’t just shove toilet paper in his pants and hope it’ll absorb the blood. He doesn’t have any pads with him even though he knows he should carry them around. At least none of it got on his clothes. He’s super lucky he started cramping before bleeding and that his flow isn’t too heavy right now. But he needs pads. He knows the only solution is to ask Suho. His face heats up when he thinks about just how to do that. Suho’s older and mature but this predicament is just so embarrassing.

 

But it happens, right?

 

Hansung quickly whips out his phone and calls Suho, who only takes two rings to pick up.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Uh, hi, hyung.”

 

“Hi? Are you okay? Why’re you calling me from the bathroom?”

 

“That’s…” Hansung sighs. There’s nothing embarrassing about this. So, he’s got his period, big deal! Get it together Hansung! “I need you to get me some pads.”

 

“Pads? For—oh, okay, yeah, of course. Sorry I’m a little slow. What kind? What brand? Like the size, too.”

 

Hansung knows exactly what he wants because he’s been to this store before and they have a small section in the back. God bless retail stores. 

 

“The store’s brand, please. The package is blue and the pads are pink, and they’re kind of puffy, they’re the long ones. But not the super long ones! Those are overnight ones I don’t want those.”

 

“Okay, pink puffy pads, got it.”

 

“Store’s brand. They’re the cheapest ones, too. Got it?” Hansung confirms hoping Suho will get the right brand. They’re harder to find because they’re on the bottom shelf but they’re there. He forgets to mention that before Suho cuts him off. 

 

“Got it! Hang tight and I’ll be right there—if I can’t find an Omega to bring them to you”—

 

“Hyung, please don’t. Just come in. You’re fine.”

 

“I’ll be right there, okay?”

 

“Okay. Thanks,” 

 

Hansung quickly hangs up and sits there waiting awkwardly. He’s too nervous to play a game on his phone or do anything so he just waits for a text from Suho. Once he gets a picture of the pads Hansung sends a single text saying “yes” and doesn’t hear back. He sits there and hopes the line isn’t long, and that Suho went to self checkout instead. 

 

Waiting seems like it’s taking forever so he unlocks his phone to scroll through Instagram, liking every cat picture he sees on his explore page. He would love to have a kitten but he doesn’t think he’s allowed any pets. And he’s so busy sometimes that a cat would be lonely. It wouldn’t be fair to the kitty. Maybe he could ask for a fish.

 

After what seems like an eternity he hears the bathroom door slam open and a “oops, sorry, shit,” and knows that Suho’s arrived. 

 

“Hyung! I’m in here.”

 

“It’s empty in here but I’m just gonna…” Suho slides the package of pads under the door, “and leave. Got ‘em?”

 

“Yeah, thanks,” 

 

“Okay, cool, I’m leaving.”

 

Hansung doesn’t care if Suho’s left before he’s tearing open the package and ripping open a pad, cringing when the sound echoes throughout the empty restroom. He’s never put a pad on this quickly in his life . He throws the wrapper away and shoved the package into his book bag before finally being able to leave the bathroom. He checks his pants in the mirror just in case, but everything looks normal. He’s still cramping and it’s annoying but it’s just that. It’s not bothering him too much to ruin his day.

 

Suho is standing right outside when he exits. He gives a questioning smile as if to ask ‘all good?’ Hansung just nods.

 

“Thanks. I kind of forgot I guess.”

 

“No problem. I’m glad I was here. Do you wanna stay or…?”

 

“Yeah! It’s fun wandering around the departments! And I wanna get some socks!”

 

Suho giggles. “Okay. I still need to get a decent pair of curtains. And was gonna ask if you wanted any blankets or pillows to nest for your upcoming heat?”

 

Hansung’s face falls and he quietly pulls his fingers up to his mouth to chew on his nails. “That’s...Yeah.”

 

“Did I make you uncomfortable? Sorry. It’s just—I know it’s coming up soon and we wanna make sure you’re as comfortable as possible. Ahro And Moomyung are gonna leave you alone to rest and I’ll be there if you need.”

 

“They’re gonna leave? Like, stay somewhere else?” Hansung asks guiltily.

 

“Well, not to that extent, but probably be out as much as possible.”

 

“You’re all not going to mate me?”

 

Suho seems taken aback by the question but he lowers his voice and steps closer to Hansung, his face now serious, no longer carefree. “Hansung, That is entirely up to you. Your consent is the most important.”

 

“I know! It’s just, I dunno, you know? How this whole thing works?”

 

“It works however you want it to. Okay?”

 

Hansung looks into Suho’s eyes and knows that he’s safe with them. Any choice he makes is the right one by them and he appreciates that, as well as deserves it. He deserves to be treated like a prince. 

 

“Okay, hyung. Thanks. Can we go look at the socks now? I want to see if they have the kitty ones.” 

 

“Okay,”

 

Hansung takes Suho’s hand and excitedly walks along the aisles, peeking at all the different junk foods he’s kept away from most of the time. Sometimes he eats them at school and sometimes Suho buys him some. But he’s kept on a healthy diet most of the time. He can’t complain because he does feel and function better but sometimes in order to be human he has to eat chips and suck the salt off of them like an animal, or eat an entire pint of icecream. 

 

“Hyung! Hyung, look!” Hansung jumps in ecstasy when he sees the socks he’s wanted for weeks, hanging on the hook. They’re fluffy with cat faces on the end and he already has a pair with plain polka dots and they make his feet really smooth. He snatched them and throws them in the cart before Suho can actually look at them. “I found them!”

 

“I see that. Mission accomplished!”

 

Hansung jumps onto the end of the cart. “Can I ride like this if you push me?”

 

“No. Get down. You’re going to fall and bust your pretty little head.”

 

Hansung pouts but gets down like Suho asks. He tries another idea that vaguely pops into his head.

 

“Can I ride in the cart?”

 

“Why? Do you not feel well enough to walk?”

 

“No, I just don’t want to. Please?” Hansung rugs at Suho’s shirt sleeve annoyingly just because he knows he’s annoying right now and that Suho will give in in a few more minutes. “I’m crampy and gross, please? Please?”

 

Suho looks at him like he’s lost all hope in his generation. “Fine. But behave.”

 

“Yay!” Hansung swings his leg over the cart, steadying himself on the handle bars while he lowers himself into it. Suho peers at him from the handle.

 

“I mean it, Seok Hansung. I know you’re not feeling so great but if you act up your butt is going to get smacked.”

 

The threat wipes the smile off of Hansung’s face, and he crosses his arms, hoping no one around them has heard it. He doesn’t like Suho anymore. It’s one thing to threaten him in their own kitchen but in the middle of the store after he’s just got his period really makes him cranky. He wants to get out of the cart now, just to spite Suho, but they’re already moving down the next aisle.

 

“These are all the curtains they have? They’re kind of bland. What do you think?” Suho asks, threat of punishment already gone from his mind. He’s back to his usually cheery self. Hansung just gives a moody shrug, still slightly mad at the turn of events before.

 

“What’s wrong? Is it your cramps?” Suho leans over the cart, looking genuinely confused. 

 

“No,” Hansung turns away from him. He knows he’s being super passive aggressive right now and that Moomyung would’ve already pulled him out of the cart to march him home but he’s embarrassed to be treated like a baby after being treated like a proper adult. He doesn’t understand it and it angers him. 

 

“Hansungie, I can't help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong,” 

 

Hansung wants to yell that nothing’s wrong and for Suho to leave him alone but he knows that’s just gonna get him in trouble. He doesn’t want to mention the threat again in the store because it’s too embarrassing. So he settles for the only thing that comes to mind.

 

“I’m just really overwhelmed right now and you’re not helping.” 

 

Hansung doesn’t look up but from his peripheral vision he sees Suho soften just a tad. He puts the curtain back and comes to the side of the cart to plant a kiss on his head. 

 

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll get the curtains and then we can go.”

 

Hansung never said he wanted to leave. He hums, annoyed. “I don’t wanna go. Just need to wait for a little. I’ll calm down.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“Okay, take it easy.” Suho squeezes his shoulder before continuing down the aisle a few more feet. “These are all pretty cheap so I’ll just settle on black. To keep the sun out. That sound good?”

 

“It’s your curtains, why are you asking me?”

 

“Because you have the best decorative taste and Moomyung doesn’t. Ahro is too plain, Moomyung is...just funky, I need someone who’s normal.”

 

Hansung snorts at that. Moomyung does have weird, questionable decorative statements around the house that seem to stand out. Like the weird kitty cat clock in the white, chic kitchen and the bright pink carpet in the gentle blue bathroom. They’re probably old things that hold sentimental value to him but even the lava lamp in his small home office is out of place. It’s fun, Hansung thinks, to not have Moomyung be so bland and tidy that he can’t enjoy decorating his own home.

 

“Well, your walls are blue so black is okay. Maybe purple too? It’s a little bold but the purple is nice!” Hansung points to the purple one. Suho stares at it before shaking his head.

 

“No. I’d have a stroke.”

 

“It’s cute!”

 

“I’m going with black.”

 

“So much for my opinion,” Hansung huffs. Suho tosses the black curtain package on top of him. “Hey!”

 

“Quiet, pup,” Suho rolls out of the aisle. “Do you want some icecream?”

 

“Yes! Please! Don’t tell Moomyung hyung I’m going to eat the whole pint, though,”

 

“The only way to deal with cramps is with junk food. I mean, not really—you should eat healthy to avoid aggravating the cramps further but sugary dairy is comforting. Do you want birthday cake? As long as it doesn’t have caffeine, like chocolate or coffee, you should be okay.”

 

Suho is slowly pushing them down the frozen aisle and looking at all the different flavors. Hansung almost always gets birthday cake but today he’s not feeling something so elaborate and specific.

 

“I think peanut butter is good!” He points to the pint as they pass it. It’s combining two of his guilty pleasures and he can always mix in more peanut butter with it. He already feels less annoyed with Suho when he hands him the pint, grabbing plain chocolate for the rest of his mates most likely. 

 

“Okay, I think we got everything. Are you ready to go?”

 

Hansung is vibrating with excitement over eating his icecream at home in his new fuzzy socks and wrapping himself in a blanket with a heating pad. He can’t wait to take a shower, either. “Yes!”

 

“Okay, off we go. You need to get out of the cart before we check out, though, I don’t know what their cart policy is.”

 

“Okay,” 

 

Hansung lets Suho ruffles his hair before he helps him out of the cart, easily pulling Hansung out and plopping him onto the ground. Suho’s bigger than him and stronger than him and it makes him feel . . . small, and coddled. Suho’s like a big puppy, and he loves that, even if he’s threatened to spank him in the store just moments ago. Maybe on the way home they can talk about it. Hansung wants to talk about it.

 

“Okay. Let’s go.”



Chapter Text

Maybe it’s the change in the weather or the freedom of being on break but for the last week, Hansung finds himself particularly horny. He’s just horny. He doesn’t know why since he’s not approaching a heat or his period but he’s masturbated everyday for a week and still feels riled up. It’s not too bad or noticeable but when he’s tipped over Suho’s knee for a brief punishment for being an annoying brat during his office hours (his words only) he finds himself actually rutting up against Suho’s knee, the pressure too good to resist. Usually he’s crying and whining within seconds because spankings hurt and there’s nothing sexy about them but he can’t help it. Suho stops nearly a minute later.

 

“Hansung, are you…humping my leg?”

 

Shocked at being called out for the horny bastard he is, Hansung lies. “No!”

 

“Okay, then, um, do you have to pee? You’re rocking back and forth, babe,”

 

“Y-Yeah, gotta pee…” Hansung thinks that’s just a good reason as any to be let up. 

 

“Okay, go quickly and come back so we can talk. Okay?”

 

“Okay,” Hansung nearly sprints out of the room for the bathroom where he’s definitely going to go get off with his spare electric toothbrush. He takes much longer than necessary but Suho says nothing when he comes back. Just gives him a look. Instead of scolding him he just asks him to go help Ahro downstairs. He can’t leave the room fast enough. It’s like Suho knows something’s up.

 

✨                  ✨                  ✨

Suho rarely loses his cool. He lives with his three mates, often coming home to a house of chaos. He’s almost immune to Hansung’s antics and his savory scent. But after a week of Hansung reeking of arousal it’s enough to drive him up the wall. He doesn’t even knock when bathing into Moomyung’s office, just closes the door and starts ranting.

 

“Dude, we have got to talk about Hansung, because I’m down to my last straw ”—

 

Moomyung just stares at him. “Why?”

 

“Have you not noticed? For the past few days he’s been…”

 

“What?”

 

“Just—horny. He’s so horny, he smells so strongly, the smell is everywhere! And I’m a Beta! Have you two seriously not noticed it?”

 

Moomyung casually flips through the paperwork he’s doing, not looking up. “He’s a college student, Suho, he’s going to be horny. Just talk to him and maybe suggest some scent blockers.”

 

“That’s smart, but my biggest concern is sex.”

 

“If he wants sex he’ll come to us and we’ll talk about it. It’s not a big deal. He’s an adult, he can initiate contact,”

 

“I don’t think he knows that. Otherwise he wouldn’t be masturbating like an animal. He jumped my leg the other day when I tossed him over my knee for bothering me so much. Then I think he got off in the bathroom? He said he had to pee but I don’t know man he took like ten minutes”—

 

“Suho,” Moomyung’s eyes are sharp now, “if he wants to have sex, he’ll say something. He knows he can trust us.”

 

“Right. I’m just nervous that, you know, he doesn’t trust us.”

 

“Why don’t we go talk to Ahro? Maybe she’ll know some cheap blockers he can use,” Moomyung gets up and guides Suho out of the room, hand pressed to the small of his back. The two of them stop down the hall, the overpowering scent of Maple flooding their senses, sickly sweet, like someone’s poured way too much onto a plate. 

 

Suho continues to their room and yells when he opens the door, walking back and smacking right into Moomyung.

 

Hansung is on his back in the middle of the bed, Ahro’s head between his legs. From what it looks like she’s eating him out like a full course meal.

 

“We didn’t mean to interrupt,” Moomyung says gently, taking a hold of Suho.

 

“It’s fine,” Ahro sits up, “you can come in and watch. Are you okay with that, Hansungie? Can your hyungs watch me eat you out?”

 

Hansung looks so far gone but he nods, and the two move over to the loveseat in the bedroom to watch.

 

“Caught him with his vibrator and we had a little chat about how it wasn’t enough, so here we are.”

 

Ahro dips back down to sweet talk against Hansung’s thighs and Suho feels his breath stop in his chest. Hansung is gorgeous .

 

They’ve all seen bits and pieces of his privates during spankings and time outs but this was different. Punishments weren’t sexual while this was nothing but sexual appreciation. Hansung’s pussy was gorgeous: fat labia, the caramel skin darker than the rest of him and silky smooth looking, his clit engorged between the thick lips. They knew he started shaving and had been embarrassed about it but he had no problem with anyone seeing anything right in that moment. He was writhing underneath Ahro, who worked her fingers in and out of him further down while she delved her tongue deep into his folds. He gripped the bars of the headboard and moaned, heels digging into the comforter.

 

Ahro pulls away again and Hansung’s whine goes straight to Suho’s dick.

 

Noonaaa ,” 

 

“Shh, I have to make sure you don’t come too soon. I wanna play with you a bit,” she tickles his inner thigh and laughs when he squirms.

 

“Oh god, please, please , need to come, I need to come, noona,”

 

“Be patient. Only good boys get to come, Sungie,”

 

“I’m good, I’m good,” he breathes out, throwing an arm over his eyes. He goes to touch himself and Ahro smacks his hand away.

 

“No, no; that’s my job mister. You’re being pretty impatient right now, aren’t you? Should I spank you instead?”

 

No, jus’ wann’ come,”

 

“I don’t know, he seems pretty naughty,” Moomyung chuckles from the loveseat. Suho’s fizzy with arousal and part of him wants to offer to suck Hansung’s soul out through his pussy but he sits and waits. It’s too good to miss.

 

“I need you, noona,” he whines again and Ahro strokes the back of her fingers all the way up his thighs. 

 

“Alright, my love. Here I come.”

 

She starts by licking and sucking his clit again before moving to eat him out with her full jaw, working her two longest fingers in and out of him. She snorts when he asks for more and adds a third, twisting them every so often. His hips gently move in rhythm with her as she finger fucks him too and his breathing is shallow and messy.

 

“Deep breaths, Hansung,” Suho tells him. He breathes a little deeper, caught between a moan he tries to stifle with a hand.

 

“No, Hansung. We want to hear you, baby. All of you.”

 

Hansung shakes his head fervently but when Ahro digs her nails into the plump cheeks of his ass he gasps. She’s so deep in him now and Suho wonders how she’s breathing, torn between wanting to touch them both. Hansung is cupping his pecs now, rubbing his nipples and Suho sees Moomyung watching with his head tilted, as observant and analytical as ever.

 

“M’close, so close,”

 

No one needs Hansung to confirm how close he is because he’s literally unraveling before them. Within the next few seconds he’s coming, yelling out loud, rocking the bed with Ahro.

 

Fuck! Fuck, ” he rides his orgasm for a few seconds more before he’s falling faint into the covers, readjusting his legs to let Ahro know he’s finished. She sits up, smiling, and hums.

 

“Did you like that? Hm?”

 

Hansung is obviously too high from post orgasm bliss to answer. He looks a little out of it. Moomyung strolls over to sit beside Hansung, gesturing for Suho to follow. 

 

“You were such a good boy for your alpha, huh?”

 

Hansung just stares ahead at the ceiling trying to catch his breath. Moomyung strokes the soft strip of belly below Hansung’s navel and he giggles and kicks. Moomyung lets up for only a moment before he does it again, thumbing the pelvic area before while Hansung settles down and lets him stroke him. 

 

“Good little Omega,” he presses kisses to Hansung’s head, whispering against his hair, “perfect for us. Perfect for your mates. So spoiled and pretty, huh?”

 

“Mmhmm,”

 

“Maybe next time, Hyung should hold your hands so you don’t try and touch yourself.”

 

“Mmm,”

 

“Don’t rile him up again!” Ahro cries. “I had to work hard to make sure he didn’t come too early!”

 

“Of course, of course,” Moomyung kisses her right on the mouth. “But he’s got two perfectly capable mouths right here. And four hands.”

 

All the pillowtalk is still making Suho hard, not giving him a break. Maybe he needs to go to the bathroom to whack off now. He strokes Hansung’s chest, thinking about how perfect his pecs would look in a bralette. Even better once they start to fill in once he gets pregnant. He’s going to be so swollen with pups. Three mates means three possible litters. It’s a little too early to think about and as a Beta he doesn’t feel too possessive over the idea but it’s still hot as fuck. 

 

They spend the rest of the afternoon showering Hansung in affection until he recovers enough to shower on his own, leaving the three of them to fuck each other’s brains out. 





Chapter Text

The one thing about charity banquets, or whatever they’re called (Hansung isn’t sure), is that it confuses him. Hansung thinks that instead of throwing a banquet, they could just donate all the money to the cause. But he keeps his mouth shut after saying this and receiving a stern look from Moomyung because he really doesn’t want to get in trouble tonight. Especially since there’s free food, free fancy food, and that’s his favorite kind of food. There’s going to be appetizers and italian food and shrimp cocktails and cupcakes and Hansung is so excited that he doesn’t eat the whole day just so he can eat the whole banquet. That and because most of the people attending are alphas, and he doesn’t really like talking to them. Alphas with high paying jobs and important roles usually seem to stingy to him and he just wants someone he can talk to that doesn’t involve an inner competition amongst another alpha. Hansung has always found it to be not only tiring but ridiculous. Secondary genders shouldn’t really mean anything. But he’s an omega and he’s got three mates so he can pretty much say goodbye to the idea of talking to anyone for the night. 

He’s currently eating a fancy fruit cup, standing in the middle of his mates, when the first couple comes to greet them. He hasn’t been paying attention to any of them, barely giving polite nods, but he nearly jumps in excitement when he sees who it is. He can already tell by the quiet groan Suho gives that it’s Banryu and his alpha Sooyeon. Hansung likes Banryu, even if he’s kind of rude, because he’s a really good lawyer, just as good as Suho, and he’s an omega, and he doesn’t let anyone treat him any differently because of his secondary gender. He’s ruthless and unforgiving in court, and he’s merciless against alphas, and it gives Hansung a power trip. He hears stories from Suho all the time, usually because he’s complaining, but he’s excited to have a chance to meet him. Sometimes, he wishes he could be like Banryu, but he’s too shy and too passive.

He recognizes him from photos but Hansung thinks that Banryu is so much prettier in person. He’s dressed in a navy suit to match Sooyeon’s fancy dark blue dress, and the flower in her hair, and his hair is tied up. It’s a good color for his porcelain complexion and he can swear Banryu is wearing just a smudge of eyeshadow to make his eyes look smokier. 

“Suho!” Sooyeon is rushing over to them, careful in her tight dress and heels, and Suho kisses her hello. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I guess it got away from me,” he lies. Hansung is peeking around his tall frame to see Banryu, who’s staring into space. “It’s nice to see you both,”

“Likewise,” Banryu answers.

“Sooyeon, you look gorgeous,” Ahro compliments her. The two step off to the side to talk about where she bought her dress from, leaving the four of them to politely and awkwardly exchange painful smiles. Hansung decides that it’s his turn to step in now.

“Banryu-ssi! It’s nice to meet you . . .” he gives a small bow and holds out his hand, fruit cup in his other hand, and Banryu just stares at him, confused.

“Do I know you?”

Hansung stutters but before he can speak Suho cuts him off.

“Don’t be rude, asshole, you know Hansung. He’s my mate.”

“Oh, right. Well, I’ve never seen him in person, so it’s not rude. I don’t know every omega just because you talk about them,”

Hansung just pulls on Suho’s sleeve. “It’s okay hyung!”

Banryu gives him a polite nod and Hansung takes it as an opportunity to start gushing. “I think you’re really cool! Suho hyung talks about you a lot--just work stories when he’s complaining at home--but I think it’s cool that you’re such a good lawyer, and that you have a really scary reputation. Actually, I think you’re kind of scary right now anyway, so maybe it’s the way you look, but you’re really pretty so”--

Suho quickly slaps a hand over Hansung’s mouth and laughs nervously. “I think that’s enough, Hansung.”

Hansung licks Suho’s hand and earns a smack to the thigh. “Don’t do that! That’s disgusting!”

“Don’t cover my mouth!”

Banryu watches the two of them bicker until Moomyung places a hand on both of their shoulders and they stop. “Please, you two, can you stop acting like children?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Hansung exclaims. “He just cut me off!”

“Hansung”--

“He’s right though, Suho. Can’t just shut him up because you’re his mate,” Banryu takes a sip from his flute, “but I see why you wanted him to be quiet. He’s pretty loud.”

The three of them stare as he walks away and Suho clenches his jaw. “I’ll kill him. I’m going to kill him.”

“Suho, leave it alone,” Moomyung rubs the back of his neck with his free hand, “take a deep breath.”

Hansung’s eyes dart between his two mates and Banryu, who’s joined his mate, and suddenly feels a little dumb. He’s out of place, dressed in the fanciest clothes he’s ever been in, sandwiches between his two mates who were years ahead of him financially, developmentally, and socially, and all he could do was shove mangoes into his mouth. Which is probably the easiest coping mechanism ever handed to him straight on a silver platter. He decides that even if he’s a little sad right now, that’s okay. There’s plenty more mangoes for him to eat. He doesn’t need Banryu’s approval, nor his mates. He’s got mangoes.

“I’m gonna . . . go . . .” Hansung points towards the refreshments and makes his way there alone, not waiting for anyone to respond to him. There’s still fruit cups left, with drinks and appetizers like shrimp and small rolls with fancy dressing, and he immediately grabs another fruit cup, and dumps some shrimp into it. He feels a little dumb at the table alone, probably the youngest person at the entire event, dressed in his black slacks and elegant eggplant top to match Suho’s vest. He’s wearing the necklace Moomyung bought him, too, but he wants to take it off. He doesn’t like things around his neck and he’s afraid it’s going to fall off. Even if the diamond is small, the gold chain is so thin he’s afraid he’ll tug at it and it’ll break. 

He eats his shrimp with his fingers, not really caring about manners, watching the people around him. They’re all so . . . graceful. Dressed in fancy, shiny clothes, all paired up with one another, whether they’re matching or not. Most of them are smiling and engaging in conversations, looking plenty happy like he had been not too long ago. But now he just wants to go home. He tries not to look upset, knowing that if he does get upset he might not be able to control his scent, so he forces himself to just try and relax. Just a few more hours and they’ll go home and he can nest in his bed with his stuffed animals and watch Netflix on his phone. 

He decides he’s been at the snack table for too long and decides to head back towards his mates. He spots them in the crowd, speaking to someone else, but it doesn’t look too friendly. He can’t tell. Suho’s smiling, but he’s always smiling, and Moomyung isn’t, because he almost never does. Ahro’s back is turned to him so he can’t get an accurate depiction of her feelings towards the stranger. But once he wanders closer he can hear the “nice to see you again” and the exchanging of names. It’s . . . not very friendly. 

The man is tall, wearing a black tux, with brown hair swept back. He smells of some strongly scented cologne and Hansung can’t really catch a scent off of him. He’s tall, just as tall as Moomyung, and he’s got sharp brows and cute little ears that lessen the intimidation coming off of him. Hansung stares at him the entire time until he’s close enough to grab onto Ahro’s wrist.

“Noona,”

“Oh! There you are!” She pulls him back in between the three of them and smiles, her purple lipstick inviting enough to make Hansung scent her briefly. She lets him. The stranger looks surprised at this but before he can ask, Ahro is speaking. “This is Hansung, our mate. Hansung, this is Jidwi, he’s an . . . old friend of ours. Can you say hi?”

The stranger is giving off such a weird energy Hansung doesn’t want to say hi, but he knows that he’s a reflection of his mates, so he just smiles a bit. There’s an unsettling feeling in his stomach and he takes a step back when the stranger looks at him. The scar over his scent gland is throbbing awkwardly and he goes to rub it. If his mates notice, they don’t say anything. Hansung and Jidwi stare at one another for a good few moments before Suho is wrapping an arm around his waist. 

“Hansung, how many of those have you had?”

“Um, not too many . . .” he’s not really focused on his mate, trying to find a neutral point to lose his focus. He doesn’t want to stare at the stranger but he can’t help it. He doesn’t even say anything when Suho steals a shrimp. 

“They’re pretty good,”

Hansung feels too small now; surrounded by bigger, taller alphas, save for Suho. He doesn’t like the way Jidwi is staring at him. He’s starting to shake now, clearly uncomfortable with the alpha’s gaze. Suddenly, he regrets eating so much. He shoves the fruit cup into Suho’s hands.

“Um, b-bathroom,” he says before rushing off, covering his mouth. He’s going to be sick. His stomach is causing waves inside of him, like he’s on a boat, with the water crashing and tumbling and rocking him back and forth and he barely makes it into the bathroom before he vomits, gagging tremendously, his bonding mark still pulsating uncomfortably. He coughs a bit, deciding to just sit in the stall for a while in case he gets sick again, and listens to the charming classical music wafting in from the vents. He allows the strings to soothe him bit by bit.