Chapter Text
Moonlight spills through open blinds like liquid silver, painting Jisung's childhood bedroom in shades of pearl and shadow. The hour is late—nearly midnight—but sleep is the furthest thing from his mind as he kneels beside his bed, methodically sorting seventeen years of memories into piles of 'keep' and 'leave behind.' His fingers tremble as they brush across familiar treasures, each one weighted with the gravity of choice.
A stuffed rabbit, worn velvet soft from years of love, its fur matted where countless tears have fallen. The scent of fabric softener still clings to its ears, the same brand his mother has used since he was small enough to toddle. He tucks it into his duffel bag, unable to leave behind this one piece of comfort.
Academic trophies gleam dully in the moonlight, their golden surfaces catching and holding shadows. First place in the district spelling bee. Top marks in literature. Perfect attendance. Proof that he was everything his parents wanted, before biology betrayed their carefully laid plans. These stay behind, too heavy with expectations to carry forward.
His fingers catch on soft cotton—old school festival shirts, each one marking a performance or celebration. The fabric holds ghosts of happiness, of times when his parents' smiles reached their eyes, when their pride in him wasn't shadowed by disappointment or disgust. He selects one, the most worn and loved, to take with him. The rest he folds with mechanical precision, laying them to rest like pressed flowers in a book of memories.
A photo album makes his breath catch. Between plastic sheets, moments of joy are preserved like insects in amber. Felix's bright smile appears in most of them, the two of them growing up together like twin saplings reaching for the same light. And there, in the corner of one faded print, Felix’s brother Minho stands watching them both, his expression soft with fondness. Jisung's heart stutters at the sight. Six years their senior, he stands heads above them, his dark eyes scrunched in mirth, his too-large front teeth perpetually poking out from between his full lips. The alpha is peppered throughout the album—group photos at awards ceremonies and holidays with the Lee family, candids at the beach, his skin tanned under summer skies, blurry holiday photos in dim lighting. Years of Jisung’s love documented through the lens of a camera.
The album is too bulky to take, but he carefully slides out a few chosen photos, tucking them between the well-worn pages of The Giver.
His savings—carefully hoarded birthday money, holiday gifts, payment for chores—feels pitiful in his hands. The bills are crisp and new, barely touched, like unwritten promises. It won't last long in the city, but Felix has sworn to help him find work, to share his apartment until Jisung can stand on his own. The money disappears into an inner pocket of the duffel bag alongside his passport and birth certificate.
From downstairs, the scent of his mother's cooking still lingers—soybean stew, the kind she always makes on special occasions. His birthday is in less than an hour, but there will be no celebration tomorrow. No shared meals, no careful optimism, no pretending that the scent neutralizers can mask what he is. His stomach clenches around emptiness, mourning not just the food but the love that used to season every dish.
He misses her—not the ghost who moves through their house now, but the mother who used to sing while she cooked, who would read him bedtime stories of hard won battles and the flush of first love, who would brush his hair from his eyes and call him her little star. Before he presented, before his father's disappointment turned to iron bars and locked doors, before they realized their beta son would never arrive.
A floorboard creaks beneath his knee, and Jisung freezes, heart thundering against his ribs. But the house remains quiet, his parents' steady breathing audible through the thin walls. They sleep deeply these days, secure in their belief that their omega son is safely contained, unaware that their cage has only hastened his flight.
The duffel bag fills slowly—clothes chosen for practicality, a few cherished books, the small box of delicate earrings his favorite grandmother gave him before she passed. Each item carefully wrapped in silence, each choice a step toward freedom. What remains looks like a museum of childhood—trophies and trinkets arranged just so, as if their perfect order could somehow maintain the illusion of the son his parents wanted.
His phone buzzes once, nearly silent against his palm. Felix's message glows like hope.
Lixie
one more hour sungie~!!!!
i’ll be waiting for uuuuu
oh don’t forget the key to the apartment i gave u!!!! remember it’s on the sasuke keychain ehehe
be safe!!!!! ♡♡♡
Jisung takes one last look around the room that has been his universe for seventeen years. In the moonlight, it looks smaller somehow, like a chrysalis he's finally outgrown. Tomorrow, he'll emerge into something new—something free and fierce and entirely his own. The thought tastes like possibility on his tongue, sweet and sharp as the first bite of spring after endless winter.
Carefully, silently, he shoulders his bag. Its weight feels like wings against his back as he turns toward his window, toward the city lights that shimmer in the distance like earthbound stars. Toward Felix, toward freedom, toward a future unmarked by disappointment or shame.
Behind him, the perfect order of his childhood bedroom stands as his last gift to his parents—a museum of memories, preserved in moonlight and shadow, of the son they thought he would be.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ
Jisung is seven, small and clumsy as a newborn fawn, when the neighborhood boys corner him behind the convenience store. They’re older, looming over his small body with their lanky limbs aching from growing pains, their eyes gleaming with the first stirrings of testosterone. Their laughter cuts sharp as broken glass while they crowd him against the wall, rough brick rubbing his delicate, honey skin raw.
“What are you reading, freak?” one of the boys laughs, shoving the small boy into the bricks again.
“Probably one of those girl books. He’s so small, he’s probably an omega,” another sneers.
“He’s not even gonna present for years yet and you can already tell,” the shortest of them says, his beady eyes roving over Jisung’s small body.
“Omega or not, he’s a snot nosed weirdo,” another scoffs, rolling his eyes.
“St-stop,” Jisung squeaks out, wincing as his voice breaks in his plea.
“What’s that? We can’t hear you, tinkerbell,” the shortest one says, shoving him again.
“My dad says most omegas are only good for using once and throwing away,” another grins, stepping forward and gripping Jisung’s curls in a cruel fist.
“Let’s see if he can french kiss. The least he could do is be useful for once,” another laughs, his eyes lit up in manic glee.
“Gimme your little girl book, freak,” the shortest one spits, using his weight to shove the other boy out of the way, eyes narrowed in on Jisung.
It isn’t until Jisung’s lenses start fogging up that he realizes he’s been crying. The tears fall freely from his wide, frightened eyes as the short, chubby boy with the beady eyes rips his worn paperback from his small hands, holding it over his head like a prize. One of the taller boys, older than the rest and already reeking of young alpha pheromones, grabs it, immediately ripping pages from the spine and throwing them into the air. Jisung watches on, heart breaking as they flutter to the ground like plucked butterfly wings.
“Get the fuck away from him.”
Jisung gasps and looks behind the shortest boy to see Minho–the teen appears like dawn breaking through endless night, his presence suddenly filling the narrow alley. Though only thirteen, he seems to tower over them all, his eyes dark as a tumultuous storm.
”Don’t you fucking touch him or I’ll kill you," he says, voice steady, something flinty in his tone and his dark eyes making the other boys freeze. When they hesitate, his lip curls—just slightly, just enough—and they scatter like roaches, leaving the defiled book abandoned on damp concrete, surrounded by its insides.
Minho bends down to retrieve it carefully, brushing dirt from its cover before returning it to Jisung's trembling hands.
"Are you okay, Sungie?" His fingers are gentle as he reaches out and straightens Jisung's crooked glasses. Jisung stands on the concrete, staring up at his savior with large, doe-like eyes shining with gratitude and adoration. His body still trembles in fear, shaking under the elder’s soft gaze. Minho’s warm hand runs through the smaller boy’s windswept curls, setting them, and the young boy’s gentle heart, to rights.
“I want you to forget about everything they said, okay, baby? It’s nothing for you to worry about. I’ll deal with them later,” Minho says, cupping the small boy’s chubby cheeks in his large, warm hands. Jisung nods, his curls bouncing around his delicate face.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get here in time to save your book. Let’s stop at the store on our way home and see if we can replace it, okay, Sungie?” Minho asks gently, twirling a soft curl around his pale finger. Something in Jisung's chest unfurls like flower petals reaching for the sun.
“Thanks, hyung.”
Jisung nods, still awestruck, and Minho’s concerned face breaks out into a smile before he slides his larger hand into Jisung’s and tugs the younger boy alongside him, safe and sound.
If, weeks later, Jisung finds the group of boys nursing fresh wounds in the park as Minho, knuckles bloodied and bruised, meets him and Felix by the swingset, he forgets in favor of the gentle smile adorning the teenager’s handsome face.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ
City lights pour through gossamer curtains like liquid gold, painting Felix's small apartment in strokes of honey and amber. Fairy lights loop across the walls like captured constellations, their soft glow making every surface shimmer. The air is sweet with vanilla and orange blossoms, the blond omega’s scent wrapping around the space like a tender embrace.
Felix flits around the apartment like a hummingbird bouncing from petal to petal, his long, golden braid catching the light as he makes last-minute adjustments. His hands smooth already-perfect blankets, adjust throw pillows, and fidget with the arrangements of fresh flowers he'd placed in crystal vases throughout the space. The nest he's built in the living room is a masterpiece of comfort–layers of soft blankets in gentle pastels, pillows that seem to compete with clouds in their softness, all arranged in a perfect circle like petals of an enormous flower.
"Everything has to be perfect," he murmurs to himself, straightening a string of fairy lights for the hundredth time. "Sungie deserves perfect."
When the key turns in the lock, the sound is soft as a fairy’s wing in flight. Felix's heart leaps as the door creaks open, revealing Jisung standing hesitantly on the threshold. The older omega looks small and uncertain, his dark curls windswept, his oversized sweater making him appear even more delicate. His saccharine scent carries into the apartment, juicy, plump strawberries bursting into the air souring with acrid anxiety.
"Sungie!" Felix's deep voice rings out as he launches himself at his best friend. Jisung's duffel bag hits the floor with a quiet thud as Felix wraps him in a tight embrace, enveloping the older omega and overwhelming the sour strawberry with bright orange blossom and soothing vanilla.
"Careful, Lix," Jisung laughs softly. "You'll knock us both over."
"I don't care," Felix declares, pulling back just enough to beam at Jisung, his freckles stretching across his face like scattered stars. "You're finally here! How was the train ride? Happy birthday!!! Have you eaten?? Come in, come in–I want to show you everything!"
He tugs Jisung inside, watching with delight as his best friend's eyes widen, taking in the transformed space. "Felix, this is…," Jisung's voice trails off.
"Do you like it?" Felix asks, bouncing on his toes. "I wanted it to feel like home. Look–I got those fairy lights you love, and there's a whole basket of your favorite snacks in the kitchen, and wait until you see the nest I built!"
Jisung allows himself to be pulled further into the apartment, his steps careful as if with one wrong step, everything would be torn from him. His fingers reach out to brush the soft throw blankets, trace the delicate petals of the flowers, touch everything as if confirming its reality.
"You did all this for me?" he asks, his voice small and uncertain.
Felix's expression softens. "Of course I did, silly. You're my best friend. I’ve loved you my whole life. I wanted you to feel safe here. Protected." He gestures to the nest proudly. "Try it! I used all the softest things I could find."
Jisung sinks into the nest like a flower folding its petals up for the night, his entire body seeming to melt into the softness. "Oh," he breathes, the sound barely a whisper. "It's perfect."
Felix drops down beside him, their bodies fitting together like twins in the womb, familiar after a lifetime of falling into one another. "I got extra pillows too, even though I know you'll just end up using me as one."
"That's because you're the best pillow," Jisung mumbles, already nuzzling into Felix's shoulder. His scent has begun to settle, anxiety giving way to contentment. Tendrils of ripe strawberry bloom in the air, twining with Felix’s own soft omegan scent.
"Come on," Felix says after a moment, though he's reluctant to disturb their peace. "Let me show you the rest. You haven't even seen our room yet!"
Their bedroom is a haven of soft blues and lavenders, fairy lights and soft, translucent fabric creating a canopy of stardust above the bed they'll share. Dried flowers hang in delicate bunches from the ceiling, their subtle fragrance mixing with the omegas' natural scents to create something new and wonderful.
"We're sharing?" Jisung asks, his fingers twisting in his sweater sleeves.
"Just like when we were kids," Felix says, wrapping an arm around Jisung's small waist. "Remember our sleepovers? How we'd stay up whispering secrets until dawn?"
"And your mom would always find us asleep in a pile of blankets on the floor," Jisung adds, a smile blooming across his face like the first flower of spring.
"Exactly! Though this time we have an actual bed. And your dad didn’t yell at me to leave after we presented." Felix bounces onto the mattress, patting the space beside him. "And look what I got!"
He reaches under a pillow and pulls out a small music box, its surface painted with delicate flowers—freesias and irises twining together with ivy in pretty pastels. When he opens it, a familiar melody spills out—the lullaby Jisung's mother used to sing to them as children, before their lives were irreparably changed.
Tears gather in Jisung's eyes like morning dew pooling on soft petals. "Lix….”
"I know it's not the same," Felix says softly, pulling Jisung down beside him. "But I thought...maybe it would help you sleep better."
Jisung burrows into Felix's side, his tears falling silent as a sun shower. "Thank you," he whispers. "For everything. For taking me in, for making this place so beautiful, for...for loving me even when my own family couldn't."
"Hey," Felix cups Jisung's face in his hands, his touch gentle as if handling something delicate. "You're my family too. You always have been. And this isn't just my home anymore—it's ours. Our little universe, just for us."
Jisung manages a watery smile, his eyes shining like stars reflected in still water. "Our universe?"
"Complete with its own constellations," Felix grins, pointing to the fairy lights above them. "And look—I even mapped out your favorite stars."
Sure enough, tucked in the corner is a star chart, carefully painted by Felix's own hand, marking all the constellations Jisung loves best.
"You remembered," Jisung breathes, wonder blooming in his voice like night flowers opening to moonlight. It had only been a few months, but the time away from Felix had left him unsure and nervous.
"Of course I remembered, Sungie," Felix says, pulling his best friend close again. "Now, what do you say we order some takeout and break in our nest properly? I got all your favorite movies queued up."
Jisung snuggles closer, his scent wrapping around them both like a warm blanket. "That sounds perfect."
The two omegas curl together in their nest like twin stars sharing an orbit. The apartment fills with the sounds of their laughter, with the familiar comfort of their mingled scents, with the quiet joy of two souls finding home in each other after many months apart.