Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

i.

Seokjin finds the boy on his way back from work.

He’s looks no older than sixteen, and he’s shivering violently, stumbling along the side of the road.

Normally, Seokjin would keep driving. He’s seen too much working in a small hospital near the slums. Pain, death, violence, sad orphans, and streets rats. He’s seen them all, and as much as it breaks his heart, he can’t save everyone.

But what makes him pause is the young boy’s nudity, along with the unmistakable rivulets of red running down his back and the hand prints on his thighs and hips, visible even through the blurred windshield and the whipping rain and wind.

Seokjin’s heart clenches, and he ignores the dampened upholstery when he stops alongside the boy and rolls down the window.

“Hey, are you—” Seokjin stiffens and chokes on his words. 

Even through the dampening effect of the storm, the cloying scent of caramel and chocolate clobbers him in the face.

The boy is in heat.

Dark eyes flash up at him, and immediately, an acrid pang of fear begins to flood the air. The boy begins to shiver even harder, flinching backward. Raw panic flashes across his face, and he takes a few aborted steps away before coming to a wincing stop, seeming to realize the futility of trying to outrun a car.  

“Aish, I’m not going to do anything, I swear!” Seokjin tries to mellow his voice. His heart hurts. “I just want to help. Do you have anywhere to go?”

The boy hesitates, and the bitter scent of fear hasn’t abated at all. His breathing is alarmingly fast, Seokjin observes worriedly.  

He shakes his head. A negative.

“I’m a doctor and a beta,” Seokjin says softly. Gently, like trying not to spook a wild animal. “At least let me take you somewhere warm and safe. A hot meal sounds good, right? An omega in heat shouldn’t be out here, especially in this weather with no clothes. I promise I mean no harm.” Seokjin unlocks the door and gestures for him to get in.

The boy seems on the brink of hyperventilation. His scent is so sharp it’s starting to give Seokjin a headache. His thin chest rises and falls a quickly few times before abruptly slowing, and those dark eyes suddenly look resigned. Flat.

He opens the door and climbs in, curling up as far away from Seokjin as he’s able to, even when Seokjin places his coat over the omega and starts driving.

Thirty minutes into the drive, the scent of burnt chocolate continues to linger in the air.

Seokjin opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. He glances at the little lump of omega huddled into the corner of the passenger, feigning sleep.

Seokjin sighs ruefully. “What’s your name, little one?”

Another mile of empty roads whizzes by. Two miles. A safety light, a stop sign. Maybe the boy really is asleep, Seokjin thinks, resigned.

“Jungkook,” comes the soft whisper. Seokjin startles.

His voice is hoarse but sweet, like the tinkling of a rusty music box.

“My name is Jungkook.”

ii.

When Seokjin arrives home, Namjoon is puttering around the kitchen, looking forlorn.

 “Hyung! I was just about to call you. I’m so hungry, but Jiminie and Tae left to eat without me and no one can cook other than—”

 He stops abruptly, spotting the dark head trying desperately to hide behind his broad-shouldered hyung.  

“Who is this?” Namjoon asks curiously, approaching the boy.

Namjoon glimpses a pair of chocolate eyes widening in terror before the boy skitters backward, curling in on himself.

“Alpha,” he gasps. “No, no, Alpha, no, no, no—” He’s wailing now, lost in a full-blown panic attack, and Namjoon can only gape, completely stunned at the unexpected turn of events. The scent of omega heat and distress slam into him hard, and he feels himself start to get dizzy.

“Joonie, get out of here,” Seokjin orders sharply, though not unkindly. “He needs medical help, and it’s best if he stays away from alphas right now. Tell the others to come through the back door and avoid the kitchen and guest room when they come back.”

Namjoon nods dumbly, still shell-shocked as he leaves the room.

His mind continues to turn over the image of the omega’s bruised and cut up feet, the smears of blood on his body, the haunting thinness of his cheeks.

And those eyes. God, those eyes. Namjoon shivers.

God only knows what that boy has been through.

iii.

Jimin and Taehyung return to hushed argument between Namjoon and Seokjin.

“There’s a hormone implant in his elbow! And whip marks all over his back. How can we not help him?” Seokjin’s voice hisses lowly.

“Exactly! Wouldn’t it be better to bring him to the hospital? Or get him professional help? He’s just going to be scared all the time in a household with so many alphas.”

“Joonie-ah, I am professional help. We can give him a new home, a place to start over. He doesn’t have anywhere to go.”

Jimin steps into the living room and flicks the lights on.

Namjoon and Seokjin freeze, caught.

“What’s going on? And what’s with the secrecy and the vague text, Joonie-hyung?” Taehyung pipes up.

Their mischievous grins slide away at Seokjin and Namjoon’s grim expressions.

“No, seriously,” Jimin echoes, brow furrowed. “What happened?”

Seokjin takes a fortifying breath. “I found an omega on my way home from work today. He looks underage,” he falters for a moment, “but he shows signs of being physically and sexually abused. I have a feeling he’s a victim of sex trafficking, considering the hormone implant I found in him. It keeps him in an induced heat constantly.”

Taehyung and Jimin’s expressions become progressively more horrified, and Seokjin pauses for a moment before soldiering on.

“I cleaned him up and gave him some food, and he’s sleeping in the guest room right now. His name is Jungkook.”

“You said he’s going through heat right now?” Taehyung asks. “Do you think I can help you take care of him? I think the presence of another omega will comfort him a little, right?”

Seokjin hums thoughtfully. “That’s a good idea.” He smiles warmly at Taehyung. “Thank you for being so accepting, Tae. I’m sure he’ll feel safer with you there.”

The shine returning to his eyes, Taehyung beams and cheers, “Another omega, finally! I’m not the only one anymore!” Seokjin chuckles at the younger’s antics, soothed by Taehyung’s easy and thoughtless compassion.

Jimin’s expression is troubled, but his cinnamon scent is warm and sympathetic. “And I guess I should stay away for now, right? He probably hasn’t had great experiences with alphas in the past.”

Seokjin nods gratefully at Jimin’s understanding.

“I’m going to ask Jungkook if I can take out his hormone implant chip tomorrow morning, as soon as he wakes up. I think today was overwhelming for him, and I didn’t want operate on him without his consent.”

A soft sigh escapes from Seokjin’s lips, and Jimin suddenly notices the weariness on his hyung’s face. Namjoon looks similarly drained.

Taehyung and Jimin fall asleep uneasily that night to the faint scent of burnt sugar. The sounds of quiet whimpers and restless turning drift through the thin walls.

Something in Jimin’s chest aches.

iv.

There’s absolutely nothing shittier than running out of coffee just as inspiration hits.

That, or getting scolded by Seokjin for not taking care of himself for days on end.

Yoongi rubs his eyes tiredly, stifling a yawn. His phone has been out of battery for the better part of the night, and he left his charger at home. Knowing Seokjin’s mother hen tendencies, his hyung will probably throw a hissy fit (out of worry and love, Yoongi acknowledges) if he comes home at four in the morning again without contacting anyone.

Checking his watch, Yoongi notes the time. It’s already past one in the morning.

Stretching his popping joints, Yoongi packs his bags and locks up the studio before leaving for home.

When he arrives, the house is silent and dark. Everyone’s probably in bed by now, considering the time.

As Yoongi toes off his shoes, he hears the faint noise of distressed crying drifting through the walls. Yoongi straightens abruptly, alert and concerned.

He follows the noise to the guest bedroom and delicately pushes the door open, his confusion growing with every step. Why would anyone be sleeping in the guest bedroom?

A slice of light from the hallway pours into the dark bedroom, illuminating an unfamiliar figure twisting in sweat-soaked sheets. The smell hits Yoongi first, a heady blend of warm cocoa and milky caramel. Yoongi stumbles into the room, arousal clouding his senses as the heat scent triggers his alpha instincts and fills the room with intoxicating scent of coffee and musk.

The boy in the bed lifts his head, exposing the sight of prettily flushed cheeks and dilated black pupils. He’s so far gone in his fevered state that he’s just whining and rutting in desperation, slick running down his thighs in rivulets.

“Alpha,” the omega sobs, squirming frantically. His candied scent darkens with a bitter edge of fright even as he tilts his ass up and presents. “Please,” he moans, sounding drunk. Yoongi doesn’t think the omega is fully conscious or even aware of where he is. “Fuck me, use me, I’m your toy.”

Beyond the hazy edge of lust, Yoongi registers the bloody bandages on the boy’s back and feet, the bruises on his hips and thighs, the small frame and youthful features. It doesn’t take much to put together the pieces, and Yoongi recoils in horror and anger.

Who would do this to a child?

Jin-hyung, I need to get Jin-hyung. He’ll know what to do—

Yoongi makes an aborted step toward the door, one hand coming up to block his nose. He needs to get out, out, out. Before he accidentally loses control and hurts this child. Before he loses control and really does fuck him into the bed.

“No!” A sharp yelp comes from behind him, stopping Yoongi in his tracks. Suddenly, two hands are gripping his ankles with surprising strength, and the omega is looking up at him, still crying convulsively.

“I swear, I can make you feel good! I can do whatever you want. Just don’t tell them I was bad. Please, Alpha,” he begs. He palms at Yoongi’s erection, nuzzling it with his face and mouthing at it with swollen lips. “You can hit me, cut me, choke me.” The burnt smell intensifies. “I won’t complain. Whatever you want, Alpha. Master.”

Yoongi blanches, feeling sick to his stomach. “No, no, I don’t want that from you. Don’t call me Master. I’m not here for that.”

Out, out, I have to get out. I need to get Jin-hyung.

The omega looks confused for a second before stuttering, “Sir? Daddy? I can use any name you want, Alpha.”

Yoongi loses it. He doesn’t know how to get through to the boy that he’s not here to sexually exploit him, when it seems like the boy has only ever experienced such with alphas.

“Jin-hyung! Seokjin!” Yoongi shouts. He probably just woke up the entire house, but it doesn’t matter. He needs Seokjin, now.

“No!” The omega wails, and if everyone hasn’t woken up already, they certainly have now. He still looks fever-flushed and dazed. Gone. “They’re going to whip me again! No, no, no!” He devolves into wordless moaning, curling into a trembling ball on the ground. Yoongi’s eyes burn, his chest throbbing painfully. He’s just a child. How could they do this?

Footsteps come thundering down the stairs, and Seokjin flies down the hallway, taking in the scene rapidly. His face falls. Jimin and Namjoon appear at the foot of the stairwell, and Taehyung follows Seokjin at a more sedate pace, worry etched into his features.

If looks could kill, Yoongi would probably be a puddle of primordial sludge on the ground by now.

Seokjin picks up the omega and hushes him softly. Picking up the blanket from the mussed bed, he wraps the boy in it and rocks him like a child. Taehyung coos and opens his arms, and Seokjin passes him along, tucking the tear-streaked face into Taehyung’s neck. Taehyung’s hums softly, and his clean pine scent seems to sooth the other omega, who slowly quiets and goes limp in the elder’s arms.

Seokjin turns a glare on Yoongi as soon as the omega calms and promptly drags him by the ear to the living room, leaving the boy with Taehyung. Namjoon and Jimin trail in after them.

Yoongi gulps. Seokjin looks furious.

“Yoongi! Namjoon-ah told everyone to avoid the guestroom! What the hell were you doing in there?” He snaps.

“My phone died, hyung. I really didn’t know.”

Seokjin pinches his nose in exasperation and deflates. “Aish, Yoongi-ah. Today was a dreadful day to not charge your phone,” he sighs, looking a bit apologetic at his outburst.

“Hyung, that omega…” Yoongi bites his lip. The boy’s desperate pleas replay on loop in his head. They’re going to whip me again. “Who is he?”

 “Yoongi-ah, let’s wait until Hobi gets back from the dance studio, ok? He should be back any minute now. And then we’ll all sit down and talk.”

Seokjin exhales a long breath. Tonight is going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

i.

Jungkook wakes to the sound of clinking pans and muted conversation. The burning heat in his body has abated a bit, and he feels warm. Safe. The sky is a beautiful mix of pastel pinks and oranges, and he basks there in comfort for a moment before realizing that there’s a pair of arms wrapped around his torso.

Jungkook stiffens.

“Aigoo, Kookie, are you awake?” A groggy voice asks from behind him.

The haze of panic clears from Jungkook’s mind, replaced by confusion. No one’s ever called him Kookie before.

Slut. Whore. Bitch…

Kookie?

Jungkook scents the air tentatively. It’s an omega that’s hugging him. The rest of his panic dissipates, and he wriggles around to face his captor. Even back at the facility, none of the omegas had hurt him before. They had no reason to, after all, when they were all suffering together.

Gently amused eyes regard him from beneath silver bangs. Slanted almond eyes crinkle, pink lips pulling into a boxy smile, and Jungkook catches his breath at the other boy’s beauty, slightly intimidated. He squeaks and hides his face in the blanket, unsure.

The silver haired boy smells happy and calm, and Jungkook finds himself simultaneously soothed and confused.

How can he look so happy and healthy living here?

Jungkook recalls the dark-haired alpha he encountered in the kitchen yesterday and the coffee-musk smelling alpha that had barged into his room. He thinks he detects another two unfamiliar, dominant scents clinging to the omega hugging him and imagines being pinned under three, maybe four alphas at once. He shudders.

“Aish, you’re too cute, really,” the older omega laughs, jerking Jungkook from his thoughts. He pulls the smaller boy into a soft nuzzle, and Jungkook finds himself relaxing. The fresh foresty pheromones that the silver haired boy is pushing out offsets the cloying sugariness of Jungkook’s own scent, and lying there on the soft, sunlit bed, the younger feels more clearheaded and safe than he has in years. The alphas are in another room, another universe.

Jungkook melts into the hug, touch-starved and hungry for affection. When was the last time someone had hugged him? Best enjoy the break now. After all, there was no telling how long this reprieve would last.

Turning his cheek against the other boy’s chest, Jungkook peers up curiously. Tentatively.

“Who are you? And where am I?”

The silver haired boy strokes an errant hand through Jungkook’s messy locks, humming in satisfaction when Jungkook presses into his touch willingly. “Kim Taehyung, but you can call me Tae.” He grins mischievously. “Or Taetae. Or just hyung. And Seokjinnie-hyung is the one that brought you back yesterday. All of us live together in this house, and you’re safe here with us.”

Jungkook nods, albeit a bit dubiously at the last part. “Who is us?” he whispers hesitantly.

“Bangtan pack!” Taehyung says, delighted. “We’re a big, happy family, and the alphas are really nice too. Jin-hyung said you don’t have a home, so you can join our pack. We’ll take care of you from now on.”

Jungkook’s blood runs cold.

Heavy limbs press him down. “I’ll take care of you from now on, bitch. Pretty little fuckhole, all you ever want is cock. I’ll take care of you, all right.” Jungkook chokes on a scream. Tamps it down. Swallows it.

A sharp slap stings his face.

“What do you say to such a kind alpha that takes care of you?”

Jungkook closes his eyes. Breathes.

“Thank you, Alpha.”

Jungkook’s scent sours quickly, and he squeezes his eyes shut and prays the older boy doesn’t notice.

Apparently that’s too much to ask for, because Taehyung clasps his cheeks with warm palms, looking concerned. “Hey, what’s wrong? We really are going to take care of you. You don’t ever have to go back to wherever it was that you came from. Bangtan protects its own.” Taehyung sounds fiercely protective, and Jungkook wonders how this pack manipulated him into such intense loyalty.

Maybe they’re drugging him.

A knock on the door startles Jungkook from his reverie, and the brown-haired beta—Seokjin, Jungkook thinks—from yesterday pushes his way in, carrying a tray full of breakfast foods. A cheesy omelet, a mixed bowl of cut fruit, toast, butter, jam, milk.

Jungkook’s stomach clenches in hunger. He can’t remember how many days it’s been since he ate, since he ran, and he can’t ever recall eating anything so luxurious. If he’s obedient, maybe they’ll give him some scraps.

Seokjin places the tray down on the nightstand, and he smiles affectionately at Jungkook. “All for you,” he says, gesturing at the tray.

Jungkook gapes, immediately suspicious. They either drugged it or want something from him. There’s no way they would just give him all this food. Eyeing the spread once more, Jungkook decides he’s too hungry to care; they’ll probably beat him or use him after he eats, and he needs all the energy he can get. He’s lucky they didn’t beat him already for trying to refuse that alpha yesterday.

Dropping his eyes submissively, Jungkook whispers, “Thank you.” He digs in ravenously, unaware of the doting eyes that observe him.

“Aw, not fair, hyung,” Taehyung pouts. “I want breakfast too! Where’s mine?”

Seokjin flicks him on the forehead lightly. “Brat, it’s in the kitchen. No eating in bed for you.” He remains impervious against Taehyung’s puppy eyes, and Taehyung finally sighs in defeat, acknowledging Seokjin’s strict house rules.

“But I don’t want to go to the kitchen! I want to stay with Jungkookie!” Taehyung cries dramatically, snuggling into the younger omega’s side. His heart hurts when Jungkook tenses and shoots him a bewildered look, uncertain with how to handle such open affection.

Muffling a laugh at Taehyung’s antics, Seokjin turns to Jungkook. “Actually, while you’re eating, I have something to ask you.”

Jungkook’s chewing slows. He knew they were up to something.

“Kookie, there’s a hormone implant chip in your elbow, and it’s keeping you in a chemically induced heat constantly. We need to take it out for you to feel better, but I didn’t want to do it last night without your permission or when you were so tired. Do you think you’re up to it today?”

Jungkook stares at him uncomprehendingly. A hormone implant chip? Is that what it was?

“What a slut. Can’t even pretend you don’t want it, not when you’re leaking so much for me. Bet that hole is just aching for something to fill it, innit?”

“It’s not! I don’t want it, please!”

“Then why are you leaking so much? Fucking dripping.”

Why is he making so much slick? Doesn’t that mean he wants it? Jungkook whimpers, unable to answer.

“That’s what I thought, whore.”

A fragile seed of hope grows in Jungkook’s chest. It was the implant all along, not him. And now he could finally be free of this constant burning, this unrelenting itch of lust.

But why?

Why would they want to take it out?

A shadow of doubt blackens the seed of hope, and Jungkook comes to a dawning realization.

They probably wanted him to act like a slut on his own volition.

A faint ache of tears pressing against the back of his eyes, Jungkook reasons to himself that it’s worth it. He can take it, has been taking it for years now. Better to have control over his own body than to be locked in this fever all the time, even if it means he’ll really be a slut now.

The milk tastes sour on Jungkook’s tongue, but he forces himself to swallow.

Forces himself to be grateful.

He looks up at Seokjin, who is waiting expectantly, and nods.

Seokjin smiles approvingly at him and pushes forward the plate of fruit with a finger.

“Make sure you finish everything.”

ii.

Taehyung watches as Seokjin guides the pup into the kitchen, settling him down on a stool. His medical supplies are laid neatly across the table, and Jungkook’s face seems to whiten as he catches sight of the scissors and scalpel.

“It’ll be fast, don’t worry. Jin-hyung’s a good doctor. The best.” Taehyung strokes the younger’s face soothingly. Jungkook’s form is stiff, but he gives a jerky nod. 

Seokjin busies himself, pulling out the rest of his equipment from a small kit. He pulls out a needle, and Jungkook…

Jungkook just freaks the fuck out.

Taehyung startles as Jungkook flinches violently, his breathing growing shallow and rapid. He whimpers in distress.

“No, no, no. No needles,” Jungkook gasps, curling in on himself. He looks like he’s waiting to get slapped or forced into submission. The abject terror in Jungkook's eyes tears at Taehyung, and he struggles not to cry. What kind of monsters had Jungkook lived with?

Realizing his mistake, Seokjin quickly puts the needle away, holding up empty hands with a heartbroken expression.

“Jungkook, I"m sorry. I didn’t realize,” he says softly, apologetically. “We’re not going to force you to do anything you don’t want, ok? The needle only contained a sedative for the operation, and it’s going to hurt without it.”

Jungkook is still shaking finely, but insists adamantly, “No needles. It’s ok if it hurts.”

The because I’m used to it goes unsaid, but they hear it loudly anyway.

Seokjin nods grimly. “Ok then. If that’s what you want.”

Jungkook nods. 

“Don’t look,” Taehyung whispers, and Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut obediently, lowered eyelashes fanning out two dark crescents on a rice paper face. His free hand clenches the underside of the stool as Seokjin works quietly and efficiently, extracting a small bloodied disc from Jungkook’s inner elbow.

He still smells afraid. Smells fearful and in pain all the time.

Afraid, afraid, afraid.

After the wound is sutured and bandaged, Seokjin pats Jungkook’s arm, smiling kindly despite his shadowed eyes.

“Now that the implant is removed, your heat should wind down normally until the hormones make it out of your system. I don’t know how long that will take, unfortunately, but Taehyung will be here to help you through it, if you’re willing.”

Jungkook’s gaze flickers between Taehyung and Seokjin, and his mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.

Seokjin sighs. ““We really are here to help you, little one. We won’t force you into anything. You’re safe,” he murmurs, hoping the words will reach the young omega. “None of the alphas in our pack will touch you, and even I won’t. Taehyung just wants to help as a fellow omega who knows what you're going through. Will you let him?”

Jungkook finally speaks.

“You’re really giving me a choice?” His eyes are wide and disbelieving, like he’s waiting to wake up from a dream, waiting for it all to be yanked away.

Taehyung turns away briefly, inhaling a ragged breath. His eyes sting. Jesus. Fucking monsters. 

Even Seokjin’s voice sounds uneven when he talks again. “Yes, Jungkook. With us, you always have a choice, okay?”

Jungkook eyes are guarded, but he nods, looking faintly hopeful. “Okay then. I’m fine with, um, T-Taehyung-hyung helping. Only if it's him,” he stutters and blushes, casting a shy look at the older boy.

Seokjin blows out a breath, relieved, and Taehyung gives him a watery smile.

“Let’s get some water and snacks for later, yeah?” Taehyung asks, careful not to jostle Jungkook’s arm when he wraps him in a hug.

“It’s going to be a long night.”

iii.

Seokjin closes the guest bedroom softy, where Jungkook has fallen into an exhausted slumber, before shuffling into the living room and collapsing on the couch. Taehyung trails in after him.

“I wonder where what happened to him, outside of the obvious assumptions,” Seokjin whispers pensively. 

“Do you think it’s too soon to ask him?” Taehyung asks.

Seokjin frowns. “Definitely too soon. I doubt he’ll want to relive all those memories that we’ll dredge up if we ask him. Perhaps he’ll open up on his own with time.” He turns a teasing smile to Taehyung. “Kookie seems to have taken a liking to you already, it seems.”

Taehyung’s somber expression melts off his face, and he smiles brightly. “Well that’s only because I’m omega, but I’m still glad. God knows he needs someone to take care of him after what he’s been through.”

Taehyung climbs onto the couch and throws himself onto his hyung, who lets out an oomph at the omega’s weight.

“During his heat, make sure to stop if you ever asks you to stop.” Seokjin fusses, wrapping an arm around Taehyung's waist. “Take care of him well, alright?”

Taehyung nods solemnly. “I’ll definitely take care of him well.”

Then his lips tip up into something a touch dirtier. “I'll take care of him, and I’ll show him the best heat of he's ever had. Jungkookie and I are going to have some fun tonight.” He winks at his hyung shamelessly.

Seokjin’s honeyed wildflower scent deepens as he groans, and Taehyung smirks in victory.

“Yah, you brat, don’t tease me like that,” Seokjin pouts, glaring at Taehyung. “It’s hard enough for the alphas and I to keep ourselves in control for Kookie’s sake already. Don’t make it harder than it has to be.”

Taehyung wriggles his eyebrows. “Harder—”

Seokjin laughs and slaps the younger boy playfully. “Yah, stop it! Enough already.” His tone sobers. “You know we’re not going to make any advances on Jungkook, especially not now while his scars—both mental and physical—are so fresh. Maybe one day, when he’s learned to accept and trust our pack, we’ll ask if he’s willing to join in that aspect of our pack dynamics.”

Taehyung hums contentedly. “Okay,” he acquiesces, finally backing down. He nuzzles his face into Seokjin’s solid chest.

The patter of several sets of feet sound in the hall.

 “What is this, cuddle time? And no one told us?” An amused voice drifts in from the doorway. Seokjin cranes his neck to see Hoseok, Jimin, and Namjoon crowding in, elbowing each other teasingly. They doggy pile on couch, ignoring Taehyung’s protests that he’s getting squished by a bunch of knuckleheaded alphas.

He secretly enjoys it anyway.

They lie there, bathing in the security and scent of pack, before Taehyung speaks.

“Where’s Yoongi?”

“Ah, about that,” Hoseok shifts uncomfortably. “He’s at the studio working himself to death again. No doubt he’s beating himself up for what happened last night.”

“I was too harsh with him,” Seokjin murmurs regretfully. “He really didn’t know.”

“Don’t worry, hyung,” Jimin says. “Yoongi-hyung will get over it. And I’m sure Jungkookie will forgive him when he gets better.”

Taehyung’s scent takes on a muted edge of sadness. “I wish he could be here with us right now. He’s pack now. Our maknae.”

“Maknae,” Jimin echoes, exchanging a bittersweet look with Taehyung. They are no longer the maknaes of the pack, but they now have a younger pup to call their own.

They’ll give Jungkook a family, a pack, a new beginning.

Taehyung smiles into Seokjin’s chest.

“Maknae.”

iv.

Jungkook wakes in the middle of the night to a raging inferno in his body. He whines and twists, kicking at the blankets, and out of the darkness, a cool hand reaches over to press against his burning forehead. Jungkook’s mouth opens to scream—

“Kookie?”

It’s Taehyung again.

Jungkook whimpers pitifully, intense heat suffocating him. He presses his thighs together futilely, trying to stop the stream of slick from trickling down his leg.

It’s so hot.

 “Shh, don’t cry, baby, hyung is here.” Taehyung pressing a cool hand to his cheek. Jungkook moans at the contact and presses himself closer, helplessly grinding against the older boy, and Taehyung’s scent thickens in response to the younger omega’s eagerness.

 “So empty,” he moans, writhing in desperation. “Please, I need something in me.” Taehyung’s mouth dries as Jungkook arches his back, attempting to fuck himself with his own fingers. He swallows, unbelievably turned on, but catches Jungkook’s arm to stop him. Even though he’s in heat, he’ll end up hurting himself if he doesn’t prepare properly.

Proper prep and aftercare are probably both things that Jungkook has never experienced, Taehyung thinks sadly.

“Slow down, Kook,” Taehyung murmurs. “All in good time, ok? We’re going to get you through this heat the right way.”

The bed dips, and Taehyung’s weight disappears from the mattress. Jungkook cries out, bereft.

“Aigoo, I’m just getting some heat toys. I’m not leaving,” Taehyung chuckles, returning to the bed. He pulls Jungkook into his lap, tilting his ass up. “Tell me if you want me to stop or slow down, ok?” he asks carefully. “Anything at all, don’t be afraid to tell me.”

He spreads Jungkook’s cheeks with one hand, finger rubbing at his dripping hole before sliding in easily. One finger, two fingers. His hole stretches so prettily, Taehyung can’t help but think.

“Can you take one more?” Taehyung asks, and Jungkook nods tearfully against the older omega’s shoulder.

He strokes the velvety walls, searching for—

Ah, there it is.

Taehyung smirks, knowing from experience how amazing it feels. He grinds his fingers down, and Jungkook convulses with a scream.

“Again,” he whispers breathlessly, looking completely fucked out. Demanding, Taehyung thinks in amusement.

He circles Jungkook’s prostate teasingly, and Jungkook shakes in his arms. Pressing down hard once more, Taehyung groans as Jungkook clenches around his fingers and cries out, cumming hard.

Jungkook gasps, painted in his own release but still desperately hard and unsatisfied.

Taehyung coos at the other boy. “Ok?” He asks.

“More,” Jungkook whimpers, insatiable. His sleek muscles flutter around Taehyung’s fingers, and the older omega can hear his silent plea for a knot. The burning heat won’t go away until he’s knotted, after all.

Taehyung smooths a cool hand over the pup’s nape in comfort. All in due time.

He continues stroking Jungkook’s insides, drawing out the last of the aftershocks, and the maknae’s lithe frame trembles with full bodied shivers.

After a while, Jungkook starts squirming again, another wave of intense heat hitting him. Taehyung’s fingers retract from his hole, and Jungkook is just about to complain when a blunt object presses against him, slipping in with little resistance.

Jungkook mewls in shock, but he’s unable to stop himself from rutting down. He moans loudly as it rubs against his prostate, sending shocks of pleasure up his spine. Delirious with fever, he fucks himself shamelessly on the toy. It feels so good.

“Look at him, so desperate for cock. We don’t even need to force him, he just wants it.”

Jungkook pants heavily, locked in the most torturous heat he’s ever felt. One of the men with the facemasks had injected him with a clear substance the previous night, and now he’s just. Burning.

He’s burning.

Everything hurts horribly, and only the thick stretch of alpha knot can diminish the pain.

So he goes willingly, and they’re right. He doesn’t even need encouragement to fuck himself on their cocks. He just whimpers and whines like the whore they call him, cumming and cumming until he passes out.

Wakes up and repeats it all over again.

And the worst part is that it feels so good. It feels. So. Good.

Jungkook sobs as he cums. He doesn’t want this, but his body does, and he can’t control himself.

Cunt, fuckhole, cockslut, whore, they call him.

His body is broken.

Broken, broken.

He’s broken.

Jungkook releases messily again, and he can’t help but think his body’s still broken. The past and the present blur like a fever-dream, and he wonders where the slaps are, the name calling and bruising grips.

Large hands steady his hips tenderly, and through the heat in his thrumming body, he wonders if it’s real, if it’s not just a dream.

And even if it is a dream, he thinks hazily, he can’t stop. It feels too good.

Just as he sinks down again, Taehyung presses a button on the toy, and a dull buzzing noise starts up.

Jungkook’s body locks up, mouth opening on a keen. Its vibrating. The stimulation is too much for him, and suddenly he’s squirting everywhere uncontrollably, dirtying the sheets with his cum.  

“Good?” Taehyung purrs. Jungkook nods, looking punch-drunk and high.

Taehyung presses the last button on the toy, and he feels the vibrations change into deep pulses as the middle of the toy inflates, mimicking an alpha’s knot. Jungkook writhes and jerks, screaming. He cums over and over, sobbing with over-stimulation. Blinding pleasure rushes through his body, followed by warm satisfaction as his heat abates momentarily from getting knotted.

Taehyung pets the younger boy’s mussed hair as the he comes down from his high, finally sated and drowsy. Jungkook reaches for Taehyung’s pants tiredly, confused when his hand is gently pushed away.

“No, little one, heats are all about you. You don’t ever have to touch someone or let someone touch you when you don’t want it, do you understand?” Jungkook’s drifting on the edge of sleep, and he wonders why Taehyung’s voice sounds so sad.

 “Got it, Kookie? Never again.”

No one’s called him slut, whore, or bitch yet in this house.

Just…

Jungkook.

Jungkookie.

…Kookie.

“Mmm,” he mumbles sleepily.

He breathes in the clean scent of wintry forest and thinks for the first time, perhaps it won’t be so bad if he stays here. The heat in his body is a comfortably warm buzz.

His last sight before he falls asleep is the image of crinkled almond eyes and an affectionate boxy smile.

Chapter Text

i.

Jimin wakes for the fourth night in a row to an empty bed and blinks blearily, checking the glowing clock on his nightstand.

3:27 AM

He rubs his eyes tiredly, wondering what had woken him. The room is still pitch black with the darkness of night, and the sheets are warm and smell faintly of Taehyung, despite his absence for the last several days.

Jimin stretches luxuriously, pausing when a moan drifts through the thin walls.

Ah, that was what had woken him.

Now that Jimin listens, he can hear the indistinct sounds of crying and moaning twined with Taehyung’s deep murmurs and a faded buzzing sound.

Jimin groans and buries his head into his pillow in an attempt to drown out the noise and the guilty curl of heat in his abdomen. It’s been four days of absolute torture—the twined scents of chocolate and caramel and woodsy pine seem to permanently permeate the house, leaving Jimin frustrated and on edge for nearly a week now.

A particularly loud cry slices through the walls, and Jimin huffs again, trying to ignore his traitorous body. Sheets rustle across the room, and Jimin stills, squinting through the darkness.

“Yoongi-hyung? Are you awake?” Jimin whispers. Taehyung, Yoongi, and Jimin share a room, and while they usually end up squished into Yoongi’s bed by halfway through the night, Yoongi has been insistently sleeping alone for the past several days, no doubt beating himself up over what had happened with Jungkook.

Jimin rolls his eyes internally. Aish, this hyung, really. He's like an emotionally stunted kid half the time and an angry grandpa the other half.

The sheets rustle again, and Yoongi sheepishly whispers, “Yeah, I’m awake.”

Another crinkle. “Kind of hard not to be when Tae and Jungkook are being so loud.”

Jimin muffles a giggle. Under Yoongi’s thin veneer of annoyance, Jimin can hear the bite of repressed arousal and frustration. Looks like his hyung isn’t half as unaffected as he acts.

“Can I sleep with you, hyung?” Jimin asks, hoping Yoongi will finally end his self-inflicted denial of affection.

There’s a drawn-out silence, and then a defeated sigh. “Fine,” Yoongi grumbles, and Jimin grins victoriously, immediately squirming out from beneath his covers and diving into the elder’s bed. He buries himself under the mound of blankets and submits himself to slow-roasting, which seems to be Yoongi’s preferred method of sleeping. His hand hits something fuzzy, and Jimin realizes that Yoongi has curled himself around his large Kumamon plush, tightly hugging it as though it was a person.

Jimin stifles his laugh for the sake of Yoongi’s pride.

He thinks Yoongi’s bed and sleeping habits say a lot about him as a person.

Gently extricating the plush from Yoongi’s grip, Jimin snuggles into Yoongi’s embrace and nestles his head under Yoongi’s chin, scenting the musky coffee aroma and rubbing his own cinnamon and apples signature into the elder’s skin.

His voice is gentle and serious when he speaks again.

“Hyung, you know you don’t have to feel bad about what happened with Jungkook, right? Seokjin didn’t know that you didn’t get Namjoon’s message, and there was no way you could have known. It wasn’t your fault in any way, just an unfortunate accident.”

Yoongi’s form is tense around him.

“Aish, I know, brat, that’s not what’s on my mind.”

Jimin blinks. It's not?

“Then what is it? You’ve been so withdrawn these past few days.”

Yoongi buries his face into Jimin’s shoulder.

“I know that finding Jungkook on accident wasn't my fault. It’s just… I… I feel horrible because I wanted him, you know? When I walked into that room and saw him—smelled him—I nearly couldn’t control myself.” His voice is low and ashamed. “I wanted—I wanted to press him down and just have him. Doesn’t that make me just as sick and twisted as all the alphas that abused him?” Self-loathing twists Yoongi’s voice, and he spits the words out like bitter dregs of coffee, brewed and kept inside for too long.

Jimin’s heart twists, realizing that Yoongi had been hiding all this pain and guilt behind his mask of aloofness. He wishes he had recognized sooner how Yoongi felt. Their second oldest had always had a tendency to be hard on himself, introspective and prone to melancholy.

“Oh hyung, no, it’s not the same at all,” Jimin breathes. “It’s what you did that makes all the difference.”

“But is it really? I would have raped him if Seokjin didn’t come,” Yoongi whispers, and he shivers.

“But you didn’t rape him, and you did call for Jin-hyung, and he came. It’s useless to ponder and torture yourself over what-ifs. What’s important is that you made the right choice, and it turned out fine.” Jimin runs a hand over the elder’s tense back. “We can’t help who we are, hyung. As alphas, we’re inevitably going to be drawn towards omegas biologically, and it’s natural to want them. Your actions are what ultimately define you, not your desires.”

The room remains silent, and Jimin can practically feel Yoongi turning over the words, tasting them, pondering them.

“When did you get so wise, Jiminie?” Yoongi murmurs finally.

Jimin closes his eyes, smiles as he feels the tension bleed out of Yoongi’s shoulders.

“Not that wise,” he mumbles into Yoongi’s chest. “You’re just dumb.”

“Yah, don’t push it,” Yoongi growls, but an undercurrent of fresh levity runs through his words.

“But you get it, right, hyung? You did the right thing. Even if you wanted him, or still want him, it doesn't change the fact that you controlled yourself,” Jimin says insistently, refusing to let the matter rest until it makes it through Yoongi’s thick skull.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, Jiminie,” Yoongi sighs. “I get it. Actions are what matter.”

Jimin nods, satisfied. Despite his exasperation, Yoongi sounds a little more at peace with himself. 

Maybe in opening his heart to the maknae, Jimin thinks, Yoongi can learn to love himself a little more.

ii.

Jungkook wakes on the fifth morning to blessed cool and peace.

Rubbing his rumbling stomach, he notes with relief the newfound clarity in his head and body.

His heat has finally broken.

Stretching an arm out, Jungkook blinks when he finds nothing but a warm divot. Taehyung must have vacated the bed not long ago.

Through the walls, he can hear the clinking of cutlery and muted conversation. Jungkook climbs out of bed and quietly pads down the hallway, following the noise to the doorway of the kitchen. He probably shouldn’t be snooping around, but the aroma of warm food is too enticing to not follow.

Pressing himself behind the arch of the doorway, Jungkook peeks in to see Seokjin sitting at the table, sleepily shoveling eggs into his mouth. Taehyung is opening and closing cabinets loudly, and as Jungkook peers in just a little further, he catches a glimpse of the dark-haired alpha he had seen on the first day.

Jungkook muffles an aborted squeak and pulls back quickly, praying that the alpha hadn’t caught sight of him. He shuffles and few steps back and tries to quell his pounding heart. He can’t let his scent give him away.

“How’s Kook doing?” Seokjin’s voice asks.

“Good, good.” That deep timbre is unmistakably Taehyung’s. “I think his heat is finally over.”

There’s a couple more banging sounds.

“Really? That’s great! Faster than I expected, honestly. I can finally check his wounds properly—”

There's a ringing slam of a cabinet door, and Taehyung cuts Seokjin off with an indignant cry. 

“Hey, why is my box of Cocoa Puffs empty? And someone broke into my heat craving stash too!”

A guilty silence resonates, followed by a clatter and a yelp.

“Namjoon-hyung! I thought I told you before—”

“I was just craving chocolate, okay?” The third voice sounds sheepish, words half garbled by food. “Mmmf, ow, don’t push, I’ll buy you more, I swear! Just let me finish this—”

A grunt and scuffle reach Jungkook’s ears, and his anxiety spikes. They’re hurting him, they’re hurting Taehyung. He doesn’t know what this strange ‘Cocoa Puff’ thing is, but the situation never ends well when an omega is defiant toward an alpha. Panic wells up uncontrollably, and Jungkook envisions the alpha forcing Taehyung down, belting him for his disobedience, gagging him for his backtalk.

No, no, I can’t let that happen to Taehyung-hyung. Not him. Not after everything hyung has done for me. 

Ignoring his jackhammering heart, he forces himself a few shaky steps toward the doorway again to see into the kitchen.

The alpha—Namjoon—has Taehyung in a headlock while he frantically spoons what looks like soggy brown spheres into his mouth, and Taehyung is struggling weakly, still letting out muffled protests. At the table, Seokjin continues to eat placidly, seemingly unconcerned by the scene unfolding before him.

Jungkook hesitates for half a second, weighing the outcome.

Taehyung lets out a quiet whimper, and Jungkook’s wavering resolve solidifies.

Taehyung is worth it. 

"Stop it!" Jungkook cries, darting into the kitchen and promptly tackling Namjoon. The alpha goes sprawling onto the ground while Jungkook shoves the older omega behind him, flinging his arms out protectively.

“Don’t hurt him!”

Icy dread crystallizes in Jungkook’s chest as Seokjin shoots up and the alpha—Namjoon—stares at him in shock.

This is it, Jungkook thinks. This is the end to their façade of kindness and the beginning of the end. He squeezes his eyes shut and presses himself against Taehyung, and as he braces himself, he reasons that Taehyung is worth it. Worth protecting and giving up his life for.

He calls up the feeling of the Taehyung’s gentle touch, the memory of his affectionate smile, the way he had carefully pushed Jungkook’s bangs back and kissed his forehead when he thought the younger boy was asleep. He won’t let them hurt him. Even if it means he’ll be punished, Jungkook would rather it be himself than the older boy who had showed him nothing but benevolence.

“Namjoonie—” Seokjin says sharply.

Behind Jungkook, Taehyung lets out an aborted sound of warning.

Jungkook whimpers as he feels two arms wrap around him, the alpha’s scent of sea salt and ocean enveloping him. The older boy pulls him into his lap, and Jungkook tries to find his rapidly fleeing courage. Oh God, oh God, please—

The alpha is shaking.

Jungkook makes a confused noise. Why is the alpha shaking?

He opens his eyes hesitantly.

He’s… laughing.

He’s insane, Jungkook thinks in horror. Namjoon was probably one of those sick fuckers that laughed as they made omegas bleed. Jungkook recoils, only to feel Taehyung come up behind him and sandwich him in a hug on both sides.

Taehyung is giggling too.

What on earth is going on?

“Jungkookie, Namjoon-hyung wasn’t hurting me.” Taehyung sounds infinitely amused. “I was just mad that he took my cereal, and Joonie-hyung was being a knucklehead as usual.”

 The alpha reaches out a hand to noogie Taehyung, still laughing hard. “Yah, you insufferable punk! I told you I was sorry already. Hyung will buy you more, okay?”

He turns his gaze on Jungkook, his eyes warm and mirthful. “Aish, we seem to always meet in the worse ways.” He gently grips Jungkook’s hand and shakes it. “Jungkookie, my name is Kim Namjoon, and I’m Bangtan pack’s lead alpha. I promise I wasn’t trying to hurt Taehyungie.” He chuckles in embarrassment. “I was just trying to finish my bowl of cereal—”

“My cereal—” Taehyung cuts in. Namjoon ignores him.

“Anyway, I’m sorry if I startled you, or if it looked like I was hurting Taehyung. But in this pack, alphas don’t hurt omegas, okay? Or anyone. We were just playing around.”

Jungkook shifts in confusion and surprise. He’s never heard an alpha apologize to an omega before. Or experienced a handshake with an alpha.  

Namjoon’s voice is gentle but firm. “No one in this pack will ever intentionally hurt you or force you into things you don’t want to do. Got it, Jungkook?”

Jungkook nods quickly, “Y-yes, alpha.” He turns the words over in his head. The alphas don’t want to hurt him? He saves the thought to ponder on.

Namjoon smiles at him. “Not alpha, just Namjoon-hyung.”

“Namjoon-hyung,” Jungkook repeats obediently, gaze averted.  

Namjoon sighs, resigned. Jungkook still doesn’t seem to understand the concept of free will. It’s okay though; they’ll work on getting that through to him with time.

Seokjin’s appears in Namjoon's peripheral as he joins the doggy pile on the kitchen floor, lips twitching. He gently extricates Jungkook from Namjoon’s grasp, noting the tension that disappears from Jungkook’s form as he’s distanced from the alpha.

His heart throbs with a pang of pity. Whatever it was that Jungkook lived through, they won’t be able to reverse it in a day, in a week, maybe not even in months. But it’s a start: Taehyung’s help, Namjoon’s thoughtfulness and tact, and these constant reminders of safety and acceptance to Jungkook. Namjoon handled getting tackled as gracefully as anyone could have, Seokjin thinks wryly.  

“Well, that’s certainly enough excitement for so early in the morning,” he chuckles. “Not much of a second meeting with our mighty leader, huh,” he asks, pulling Jungkook to his feet. He sits the younger boy down at the kitchen table and places a plate of eggs and fruit down.

“Eat,” he says encouragingly, as Namjoon and Taehyung rejoin them at the table.

Namjoon sighs forlornly at the spilled bowl of cereal, his spoon sent clattering on the ground when he had fallen. Seokjin gives him a consoling pat and slides him and Taehyung both plates of eggs and fruit.

“Let’s stop fighting over the cereal and eat a healthy breakfast, yes?” Seokjin suggests, rolling his eyes. It's like he takes care of toddlers sometimes.

Jungkook huddles in his chair, eyes wide and apologetic as he chews on a piece of cantaloupe.

Taehyung huffs. “Kook, don’t worry about the cereal, or Joonie-hyung. He totally deserved it.” The older omega snatches up the half empty container of Cocoa Puffs and stashes it under the sink, giving Namjoon a half-hearted warning glare.

“You better buy me more to make up for your thieving,” Taehyung declares. “I need to buy a lock for this cabinet,” he mumbles.

“Yes, yes, I will,” Namjoon grumbles, forking more eggs into his mouth.

Taehyung plops down beside Jungkook and starts eating. “So, Kookie, now that your heat is finally over, what do you want to do?”

Jungkook swallows and regards Taehyung timidly. “What do I want to…do?” Perplexity laces his voice.

“Yeah!” Taehyung lights up. “Like movies and books and music, art and stuff. Is there anything you like?”

Jungkook stares at his fork, suddenly no longer hungry. Emptiness gapes in his chest. He hasn’t thought about anything as frivolous as a hobby for years, since before. He tries his hardest to remember. Is there anything he likes to do?

What does he like to do?

It's been so long.

“I-I used to like drawing. And, um, and singing,” he whispers.

Taehyung beams at him, surprised but delighted. “That’s awesome! Namjoonie-hyung and Yoongi-hyung are both music producers, actually. And I’m taking a year off from college right now, but I’m an art major! We can find lots of stuff for you to do. What about movies? Studio Ghibli? American movies? Any favorites?”

Jungkook falters.

“I haven’t watched any movies before,” he mumbles.

Taehyung gasps. “What? Absolutely unacceptable. We’re having a marathon right now.” He bolts up, food forgotten.

Seokjin tuts at Taehyung in disapproval. “Sit down, you mongrel! Let Jungkook finish eating, for goodness sake, and finish your plate too! I didn’t waste all my time cooking for ungrateful brats that don’t even appreciate my hard work.”

Namjoon casts a hopeful look at Taehyung’s eggs. “If he doesn’t want it, can I have it?”

“No!” Seokjin squawks. “You already ate enough for three people, you black hole! Go get ready for the studio, you’ve had plenty.”

Namjoon sulks. “Fine, eomma.”

Jungkook giggles.

Everyone turns to stare at him in shock.

Jungkook blushes and claps a hand over his mouth, taken aback by the noise himself.

He can’t remember the last time he laughed.

“He laughed!” Taehyung shrieks giddily. He clutches at Namjoon’s arm, shaking him wildly. “Hyung, you made him laugh! You’re not just a useless cereal-stealing black hole after all!”

Seokjin sighs.

He lives with kids, honestly.

Namjoon laughs lightly and detaches his arm from Taehyung's grip. He'll be late if he doesn't leave soon. Placing his plate in the sink, Namjoon thanks Seokjin for cooking and shoots Taehyung a teasing glance as he passes the cereal cabinet, ruffling Jungkook’s hair on the way out.

It’s not a surprise when Jungkook tenses, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

He climbs the stairs, leaving behind Taehyung’s rambling chatter and Jungkook’s shy, uncertain smiles. Another giggle floats up from the kitchen, mixed with the clink of silverware and Seokjin’s incessant scolding.

It’s a start, Namjoon thinks.

It’s a start.

iii.

Jimin returns home from the dance studio a sweaty mess, industrial grade scent blockers slathered thickly on every possible surface.

He closes the front door and kicks off his shoes, looking forward to a relaxing shower and dinner. Padding past the living room, Jimin pauses as he catches sight of two blanket-covered figures huddling on the couch, the darkened room illuminated only by the flickering light of the television screen. Bottles of water and half-eaten snacks are splayed over the table haphazardly.

Jimin inches into the room curiously, squinting at the screen. It’s a Studio Ghibli movie playing.

Unable to distinguish identities of the two lumps on the couch, Jimin tries scenting the air with a gentle inhale. The familiar scent of pine reaches his nose, along with an undercurrent of caramel and chocolate.

Taehyung… and Jungkook, it seems.

The younger omega’s sweet scent is much less intrusive than the previous week, and Jimin assumes that the omega’s heat has finally ended. He hitches his dance bag a little higher on his shoulder and prepares to leave, not wanting to intrude on what looks like a Studio Ghibli marathon. Jungkook’s probably not ready to meet the alphas yet, anyway, as it is. Jimin will have to wait a bit before he can finally meet the maknae.

He barely makes it three steps out of the room when Taehyung’s distinctive voice calls out to him.

“Jiminie, is that you?”

Jimin halts and spins around. “Yeah, it’s me, Tae. I just got back from dance, so I’m gonna go shower real quick.” He tries to make a fast escape, knowing that Jungkook probably won’t receive his presence too well.

“Wait, don’t go yet! Chim, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” Taehyung whines, head popping out from beneath the blankets. “Come and say hi to Jungkookie at least.”

Jimin internally facepalms. How dumb can Taehyung get? Now he’ll have no choice but to approach Jungkook if he doesn’t want to seem rude.

Jimin prays he doesn’t trigger some sort of panic attack and takes a deep breath, stepping back into the living room.

He moves toward the couch, cautiously eyeing the shifting wad of blankets next to Taehyung.

“Don’t be shy, Jungkookie,” Taehyung coos, tugging the quilt down. “Jiminie my best friend. He doesn’t bite.”

Taehyung pushes the quilt away. A pair of chocolate eyes peer at Jimin warily, followed by pink cheeks and a bed of tousled dark hair as the comforter falls off Jungkook.

Jimin can barely contain himself from squealing. He’s adorable.

“Who are you?” Jungkook asks softly, face open and inquisitive. His nose twitches slightly, but his body language remains loose and relaxed.

Jimin tilts his head in bemusement; Jungkook seems awfully calm.

Better than freaking out though, Jimin thinks. He'll take this over a panic attack any day. 

“Park Jimin, and you can call me Jimin-hyung. I’m the same age as Taetae.”

“Jimin-hyung,” Jungkook nods. “D-do you want to watch with us?” He stutters, expression timid but sincere.

Even Taehyung blinks a little at that, astonished by Jungkook’s receptiveness to Jimin.

Jimin smiles, warmed by Jungkook’s response. “Maybe after I take a shower, okay?” He pulls his sticky shirt away from his skin. “I’m kind of gross right now.”

Jungkook’s nose twitches again, his gaze following the lines of drying sweat that run down Jimin’s neck. “Why can’t I smell you?” he questions, brow crinkling. “Are you an omega too?”

Understanding dawns suddenly on both Taehyung and Jimin. No wonder Jungkook had been so calm. It was the heavy scent blockers that Jimin used for dance; Jungkook had assumed Jimin’s class based on his appearance, unable to judge by smell.

“No, Kookie,” Jimin glances at Taehyung apprehensively. Oh dear. He knew this wasn't a good idea. 

“I’m an alpha.”

He can’t help the sting of dejection when Jungkook’s eyes widen, his small form curling up defensively into Taehyung’s side. He doesn’t look downright terrified, but he’s definitely more on edge than before.

“But—but you don’t look like an alpha…” Jungkook trails off uncertainly, scenting the air again to no avail. For once, Jimin thanks his genetics for his small stature and round cheeks. He knows he generally doesn’t exude a very alpha-like presence, unlike the other three alphas in the pack, and with his scent blockers on, he’s frequently mistaken as a beta. While it’s usually a sore spot for his pride, he’ll embrace it wholeheartedly if it can give Jungkook some measure of peace and safety, no matter how artificial.

“Alphas come in all shapes and sizes, Kook. Yoongi-hyung isn’t that big either.”

Taehyung snickers. “Yeah, but Yoongi-hyung just gives off that alpha 'RAHH,' you know? You’re just a marshmallow. And don’t even get me started on your dumb height squabble.”

Jimin scowls at Taehyung. “We really are the same height! Everyone thinks Yoongi-hyung’s a little taller, but it’s just those old-man boots he likes to wear. You know he secretly puts insoles in all his shoes too—”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Not again, Chim, I’ve heard this way too many times.” He stretches out a foot lazily and kicks Jimin in the thigh. “Go shower, and please, please stop ranting about who’s taller.”

Jimin grumbles but obeys, leaving the room with one last smile toward Jungkook.

As he leaves, he hears Jungkook whispering to Taehyung, most likely assuming Jimin is out of hearing range.

He pauses past the doorway, out of sight, and shamelessly eavesdrops.

“Hyung, how… how can you act like that to your alphas? Don’t they punish you for talking back and being rude?”

“No, Kook, there are no punishments. Besides, I’m pretty sure I could get away with bossing all the alphas around, as long as Jin-hyung isn’t around to lecture me.”

Jimin stifles a snort at that.

If this is Taehyung’s idea of teaching Jungkook the pack dynamics, Jimin can’t imagine what a terror the maknae will be a couple years down the line.

There’s a contemplative silence before Jungkook speaks up again.

“Then what about th-the sex? Do they force you or beat you?”

Taehyung’s voice is infinitely patient and tender. “No, little one, they never force or hurt me. Everything’s consensual.”

A lull quiets the air, and Jimin counts the space between his heartbeats, waiting for Jungkook’s response. One. Two. Three. Seven. Ten.

“Everything’s so different here,” Jungkook whispers, sounding heartbreakingly young and vulnerable. “All the alphas are acting so nice.”

Taehyung hums. “They’re not acting. I know it might be hard to believe for you, but they’re truly not acting. This is what they’re always like. It’s just… them.”

There’s a rustle and a quiet sniffle. “Jimin-hyung looks a little bit like one of the omegas I knew at the facility.”

“Is that why you thought he was an omega?”

“Mhmm. He was taller than Jimin-hyung though.”

Taehyung giggles. “Don’t let Jimin catch you saying that. He’s sensitive about his height, if you haven’t noticed. What was your friend like?”

Jungkook whines quietly.

“I-I don’t want to think about him… I don’t want to remember.”

A shushing sound drifts into the hall. “It’s okay, Jungkookie, we don’t have to talk about it. Let’s just keep watching movies, okay?”

There’s a prolonged silence that lasts several minutes, and Jimin finally hoists his bag up again, ready to leave. He silently climbs the first steps of the stairs, barely catching Jungkook’s last words.

“Hyung, the alphas here aren’t so bad.” The words are petal soft and laced with sleepiness.

Taehyung makes a soft sound of assent.

Jimin keeps walking up the stairs, putting one foot in front of the other. Climbing up, up, up.

It’s progress, he thinks.

It’s progress.

Chapter Text

i.

Hoseok yawns as he stumbles down the stairs, barely catching himself from stubbing his toe as he misjudges the distance to the next step in the darkness of early morning. He groans quietly and rubs his eyes, trying to clear the dregs of sleep from his head. There’s a weird staticky sound in his ear, and he can’t tell if it’s in his brain or coming from somewhere in the house.

It sucks to wake up early on a Saturday morning.

That being said, the enthusiasm in his dance students’ faces always makes up for the torture of dragging himself out of bed at ass o’clock.

Slipping on a pair of house slippers, Hoseok almost shuffles past the doorway of the living room before he realizes the strange sound is coming from inside the room.

Hoseok frowns and peers in, only to stifle a laugh at what he finds.

Taehyung is sprawled across the couch, snuffling in his sleep with an arm and a leg precariously dangling off the cushions. Beside him, Jungkook is curled into the corner of the couch, and their entire pile of blankets has been dumped on the ground sometime in the night.

Meanwhile, the tv, hooked up to Taehyung’s computer and anime playlist, is still playing with a muted staticky sound in the background.

Ah, so that’s what the sound was.

Hoseok giggles and takes his phone out to snap a picture.

The soft snap of the shutter goes off, and Jungkook whines in his sleep and balls up even tighter, shivering. Hoseok sighs and puts his phone away, shutting off the tv.

Poor pup.

He’s been here for barely three weeks, and though each day is a struggle, he seems to be improving. He’s warmed up to Taehyung and Seokjin immensely, though he seems to favor his fellow omega in particular. His violent reaction to alphas has diminished to flinching and general wariness, and though it’s an improvement, he’s also developed a habit of sticking by Taehyung’s side and using him as a shield.

Hoseok’s smile dims a bit, staring at the maknae’s tightly curled figure. He’s so tense, even when asleep.

He hefts up the pile of blankets and spreads it over the two omegas, rearranging Taehyung’s limbs to fit more comfortably on the cushions. Tucking the comforter securely around Jungkook’s small frame, Hoseok brushes a hand through the younger boy’s hair, hoping that at the very least, Jungkook can find some peace and security in his slumber.

He’s is just about to retract his hand when a hand shoots out to grip his wrist.

Hoseok jumps and barely keeps himself from screaming. Alpha pride or not, Hoseok chooses to wisely fear the terrifying things in life like ghost, spiders, insects, heights, and oh God, zombies—

“Junghyun-hyung,” Jungkook whispers, his grip loosening around Hoseok’s arm.

Hoseok stills, squinting at Jungkook’s face through the darkness. His eyes are still closed.

“Hyung, I’m sorry,” Jungkook mumbles, face twisting in distress. His hand falls from Hoseok’s wrist and tangles in his shirt. The salty tang of tears begins to permeate the air.

He’s dreaming, Hoseok realizes, something sharp in his chest.

Jungkook cries out again, speech disjointed. “’M sorry! Miss you, hyung. I’m so sorry…didn’t mean it…”

 “Hush,” he whispers. “Kook-ah, you’re just dreaming. Don’t cry.” Hesitantly, he reaches out and gently pets through Jungkook’s hair, heart aching.

“Shh, pup. Calm down.”

Hoseok’s touch seems to have the opposite effect though, because Jungkook’s eyes flash open, and he sits up with a gasp.

Startled, Hoseok rips his hand from atop Jungkook’s head. Should’ve woken Taehyung up, what was I thinking, what was I thinking? He’s gonna freak, and it’ll be all my fault—

Hoseok is utterly unprepared for Jungkook to throw himself forward, wild joy painted across his face. Hoseok grunts and flails as he’s knocked down by the pup, unprepared for the assault.  

“Junghyun-hyung? Hyung, is that you?” Jungkook asks, sounding disbelieving but heartbreakingly hopeful. “Hyung! I didn’t mean what I said that day. I don’t hate you, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he sniffs twice before promptly dissolving into tears. “I didn’t mean it. I love you,” he wails, burying strangled hiccups into Hoseok’s t-shirt.

“I missed you so much.”

Hoseok lies on the ground silently, heart heavy and eyes stinging.

“Jungkook,” he says softly. Oh lord, he’s going to break the pup’s heart.

“Jungkookie… I’m Hoseok, not Junghyun. I’m sorry,” he whispers, throat closing up.

It takes a moment for his words to register.

Jungkook stiffens.

“Not…hyung? But y-you smell the same…” He inhales deeply. Draws in Hoseok’s citrus and rain scent as the alpha holds his breath.

Jungkook exhales, and his expression crumples. “You smell so similar. But you’re… not Junghyun.” The crushing disappointment in his voice stabs straight through Hoseok.

“You’re not my brother.”

Then Jungkook’s eyes widen as the realization seems to hit him in earnest. He gasps an aborted apology and scrambles off Hoseok’s prone body.

“A-are you going to punish me?” Jungkook holds his body stiffly, as though waiting for the inevitable strike.

“What? No! What would I even punish you for? If anything, you should be punishing me. I shouldn’t come in here in the first place.”

Jungkook tilts his head.

“Punish you? But alphas don’t get punished.”

Hoseok pulls up short at that. Fuck, this is so messed up.

“Mmmm…wha’s this talk ‘bout punishment?”

Jungkook and Hoseok both twitch at the sleep muddled voice, having forgotten Taehyung’s presence temporarily.

“Kookie, I thought I told you we don’t have punishments here. Hyung wasn’t lying about this, okay?” Taehyung sounds faintly chiding even half-asleep, and Jungkook ducks his head.

“Yes, hyung.”

“C’mere pup. Tell me what happened. Did Hobi-hyung scare you?” Taehyung opens his arms, lifting the blanket, and Jungkook gratefully climbs into the proffered warmth.

“N-no, I just, um, I just thought he was…” Jungkook clams up, expression reluctant and embarrassed.

“Hm? You thought he was someone you knew?”

Jungkook’s voice is small. “I thought he was Junghyun-hyung. My older br-brother.” His voice breaks on the last word.

Taehyung’s eyes sharpen at that, the cobwebs of tiredness falling away.

“Your brother? Kook-ah, I thought you said you had no one to return to. Was your brother… with you? Where you came from?”

Jungkook shakes his head silently.

“Then—he’s safe?” A terrible thought strikes Taehyung. “He’s alive?”

Jungkook utters a quiet affirmative to both.

Hoseok sits back on his calves, exchanging a befuddled look with Taehyung.

“We just assumed when you said you had no one before,” Taehyung says slowly, a feeling of growing dread dawning on him. “We shouldn’t have just assumed.” Hoseok observes Taehyung with worry. It looks like he’s mentally kicking himself.

“Kookie, what about your parents? Your family? Your brother, at least? Are they out there looking for you?” There’s a thread of unmistakable urgency in his voice.

“I never knew my parents,” Jungkook mumbles into the blankets. “Was just hyung and me. We were with different foster families until he turned eighteen and we ran away together. He…he promised me we would always stay together, no matter what happened.”

Hoseok tentatively sits forward as Taehyung lays there, digesting the new information. “Then why did you say you didn’t have anyone if you have a brother?”

Jungkook flinches at that.

“They…they told me he hated me. That he wouldn’t ever want to see me again because I was so selfish and horrible to him. And t-they said that no one would bother to look for a useless whore like me anyway.”

Hoseok flinches at the harsh words, at the mechanical, detached way Jungkook repeats them.

“Who? Who is ‘they’?” Taehyung asks, a sharp edge to his voice. A protective curl of pine spreads through the air, and Hoseok can tell that the younger boy is trying to tamp down his anger.

“Th-the people at the facility,” Jungkook whispers. Taehyung looks murderous, barely holding back a litany of curses.

Jungkook shrinks back at Taehyung’s anger, and the barest wisp of that burnt fear scent starts to emerge.

“Taetae?”

“Taehyungie, you’re scaring him,” Hoseok says softly.

It takes a moment, but the silver-haired boy seems to come back to himself, taking a deep breath and finally recognizing Jungkook’s fear.

“Oh baby, I’m sorry,” Taehyung softens, smoothing his thumb over the maknae’s brow. “I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at the people that told you that. Don’t ever think you’re worthless or incapable of being loved. From what I’ve heard, your brother and you were very close, yes?”

Jungkook nods.

“Even if you had an argument, he wouldn’t stop loving you because of that. Just like you haven’t stopped loving him. And he would look for you. He would still be looking for you.”

Jungkook blinks back tears at the conviction in the older omega’s voice.

“But how do you know? I—I said some terrible things to him. When I got mad at him and ran away. And I never got to take them back, even though I didn’t mean them.” His voice is brittle, something in his face achingly vulnerable and bared.

 “We all say things we don’t mean when we’re angry, but even if you had a horrible argument, have faith that a brother’s love never fades. Trust me, I have two little siblings, and they’re monsters sometimes but I’ll always love them.” The affection in his voice is evident. Taehyung taps Jungkook’s nose, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips when the younger boy goes cross-eyed to track the digit.

“I have a little sister too,” Hoseok admits. “I would never give up on her if she disappeared. Even though we can’t know for sure, your brother’s probably still looking for you. I wouldn’t doubt it for a second if I were you.”

Jungkook is silent for a while.

“I—I don’t have any way of contacting him though.”

“What about a name? A full name? We can do our best to find him if we have a full name.”

Jungkook’s hand clenches in the blankets. He looks at once terribly scared and terribly hopeful.

“You really think he would want to see me again?” There’s a raw sort of desperation in his words.

Taehyung nuzzles his face into the crook of Jungkook’s neck. “Yes, little one. I’m certain.” Hoseok too murmurs his agreement.

“His name is Jeon Junghyun.”

ii.

The sky is nearly dark as Seokjin and Yoongi meander through the grocery store, shopping for dinner ingredients.

“Jeon Jungkook, huh?” Seokjin muses, inspecting a bunch of green onions. “We finally have a full name to call our maknae.”

Yoongi dutifully pushes the shopping cart behind him. “You do realize that we’re going to need to know more about his past sooner or later, right? It just creates more problems that we know literally nothing about him, other than the fact that he’s had a bad history with alphas.”

Seokjin picks up an orange. Squeezes it and puts it back down.

“You’re the last one I would expect to push Jungkook into something he’s not comfortable with, Yoongi-ah.” Seokjin’s voice is subdued.

The blond alpha flushes. “That’s not what I’m saying! And you know I don’t want him to pressure him, especially not after that night. All I’m saying is if you want to help him heal, you need to know a little more about his past first.”

Seokjin tests a grapefruit. Sniffs it contemplatively before nodding and bagging it.

“You’re not wrong…but he just seems so frail and hurt. don’t want to push too hard, lest he just—shatters.”

Yoongi huffs in frustration. “Have a little faith, won’t you? He’s been adapting remarkably well. And we can’t keep stepping on landmines like this just because we’re scared to ask him things. Like not knowing he has a goddamn brother who’s probably been going insane trying to find him!”

Seokjin’s flinches at the alpha’s outburst, stung.

Yoongi sighs, reigning in his temper. “Hyung, that came out wrong… I’m just anxious for him. I’m not trying to blame you. None of us could have known without about Jungkook’s brother without him speaking up. But you understand what I’m saying, right?”

 “Yeah, I get it. But,” Seokjin exhales heavily. “I’ve seen so many trauma patients before, and standard procedure is to avoid triggers and let them talk in their own time. They’re already struggling enough as it is. I understand what you’re trying to say, and it makes sense, but people aren’t just practical puzzles we can solve.”

Seokjin checks his grocery list, leading Yoongi into the detergent aisle.

“Pick out a scent, Yoongi-yah. Something that smells good.”

Yoongi purses his mouth sullenly and grabs out the most mundane scent he can find.

Soap, the description says, and Yoongi feels a petty sort of vindictiveness as he places it in the cart.

Seokjin raises his eyebrows when he sees the bottle but doesn’t comment. Yoongi feels strangely disappointed by his lack of reaction.

“When I find a good time,” Seokjin continues, “I’ll try to sit Tae and Kook down for a chat. I don’t want to force him to talk, but he’ll likely be most comfortable with Taehyungie—”

The shrill beep of Seokjin’s ring tone cuts him off. The beta frowns and digs through his pockets. “I swear, if this Taehyung reminding me to buy Cocoa Puffs for the sixth time, I’ll—hello?”

A panicked burst of noise nearly deafens Seokjin, and standing two feet away, even Yoongi can hear Taehyung’s frantic voice clearly.

“Jin-hyung! You need to come home! Right now.” His words are shaking audibly.

Seokjin’s knuckles whiten on the rail of the shopping cart.

“What happened? Taehyung-ah, you need to calm down. Take a deep breath and tell me slowly.”

Yoongi hears the omega pull in a tremulous gasp of air. 

“Jungkook was napping and he had a nightmare, and I woke him up, but he’s stuck in a-a, agh, a flashback? It’s like he’s stuck in a memory or something. And he’s not responding.”

Seokjin’s face creases with worry. “This,” he breathes, pulling the phone away and turning to Yoongi. “This is what I was afraid would happen.”

Yoongi stands frozen.  

He brings the phone back up to his mouth again, abandoning the cart as he flies toward the exit of the store. “We’re coming home right now, Tae, stay on the phone with hyung until we get back.”

Seokjin tosses him the keys over his shoulder. “Yoongi-ah, hurry up! You’re driving.”

Yoongi startles into motion.

He hurries after the brown-haired beta, tongue heavy in his mouth, footsteps weighted.

iii.

Taehyung kneels beside the couch, his phone pressed tightly against his ear. Seokjin’s voice filters through the speaker, and Taehyung grips onto it like a lifeline.

Beside him, Jungkook’s sitting up on the couch, hunched over and trembling uncontrollably. His eyes are wide open but unseeing, and he seems to be counting something.

“Don’t try to touch him, okay? I know you probably just want to shake him out of it, but touching him might make him more agitated and disoriented.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” Taehyung frets. He feels so useless.

“Describe your surroundings and remind Jungkook that he’s having a flashback. Have him breathe slowly with you if he can. You need to try and ground him in the present.”

“O-okay, I’ll do my best.”

From the doorway, Jimin, Hoseok, and Namjoon hover uncertainly, watching as Taehyung begins a gentle monologue describing the living room.

“What do you think triggered him?” Jimin asks in a hushed whisper. “He was having panic attacks, but nothing as bad as this.” He eyes the maknae with palpable worry.

Hoseok hunches against the wall. “Maybe…maybe it was me. I met him this morning, and he thought I was his brother. Something about my scent, I think. Maybe it dug up memories of his past.”

“I’ve been reading up on trauma and PTSD recently, and it’s possible that nothing triggered him.” Namjoon clasps Hoseok’s shoulder lightly. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, ok? Nightmares and flashbacks are normal, and they don’t always start immediately after the event. Or events,” Namjoon says, grimacing. “It’s different for everyone, really. We just have to help Kookie work through it.”

Jimin’s hands are clenched. “But how are we supposed to help him if we can’t even go near him? I feel so useless! I wish I wasn’t an alpha.”

“Hey, hey, getting distressed is the opposite of helping,” Namjoon says gently but firmly. “And you think I don’t feel useless too? The best we can do is to just be here, welcoming Jungkook with open arms and respecting his boundaries until he comes around. That’s enough.”

“I hope that’s enough,” Jimin murmurs, eyes downcast. “Do you know when Jin-hyung and Yoongi-hyung are getting back? It’s been a while already.”

The front door jerks open.

“Perfect timing,” Seokjin breathes, smiling at Jimin. “Where’s Jungkook?”

Mutely, Jimin points to the living room, stepping back as Seokjin hurries past him. Behind him, Yoongi trails in like a kicked puppy, closing the door with a soft click.

Namjoon eyes him curiously. “Why do you look so guilty?”

Yoongi scrubs a hand through his hair, scowling. “I just keep fucking up,” he mutters. “I’m going back for the groceries. Anyone coming with me?”

Jimin hesitates, glancing toward the living room.

“Go,” Namjoon says quietly, steering the younger alpha away. “I think you need a breather from all this.”

Jimin nods.

“And talk to Yoongi a bit, would you? Help him with what’s on his mind.”

“I will.” His eyes curve with his fond smile. “That’s my job, isn’t it? Where would that old grump be without me?”

He grabs his jacket and follows Yoongi back out into the night. The door snaps shut, and Namjoon drags a kitchen stool over to watch from the doorway. Hoseok shoots him a look. “What? It’s not like I can do much anyway. You might as well get a stool too.”

The red-haired alpha barely opens his mouth to retort before Seokjin calls for him.

“Hoseok-ah, come over here,” Seokjin beckons, gears turning rapidly. “You said that Jungkook confused your scent with his brother’s this morning.”

Hoseok eyes the maknae warily. Jungkook is gasping now, nails biting bloody crescents into his arms as he mutters incomprehensibly. “Wont I just make it worse? What if he’s remembering his brother?”

“He’s slipping further into the flashback, and I really doubt it’s about his brother. It’s worth a try, since you said Jungkook was quite close with him.”

Hoseok nods and makes his way over next to Taehyung, crouching on the ground. “What do I do?”

“Just stay close and try to push out your scent. Hopefully it can help ground him a bit,” Seokjin says. “Jungkookie, can you hear me? You’re safe right now. I know it feels real, but it’s just a memory. Can you feel the blankets on your legs? We’re in the living room right now. Taehyungie is here for you too. And your brother. Junghyun? He’s here too.”

Hoseok does his best to send out his scent in a comforting wave. Jungkook twitches. “H-hyung?”

A flicker of regret passes over Seokjin’s face. Hoseok can tell he doesn’t feel great about deceiving their maknae either.

“That’s it. Your hyung is here for you,” Seokjin says softly. He means it in every sense.

Jungkook heaves wetly, caught between two worlds. “Lashes, no, no, I have to keep counting.”

Seokjin’s heart shrivels with pity. Lashes? Heaven have mercy on this boy. “No, no lashes. No more counting. You’re not there anymore. You’re safe. You’re safe. Take a deep breath for me, tokki. Slowly, okay? Breathe with me.”

Jungkook blinks at that, eyes blurred but regaining awareness. “Tokki?” His voice is so small.

Seokjin’s eyes widen. “Oh—did I say tokki? I didn’t mean to, it must have just slipped out.”

“Junghyun-hyung calls me tokki,” Jungkook murmurs hazily. Confusion paints across his face. “Junghyun-hyung? But he’ll see me getting whipped. No, no, I don’t want that. Go away, hyung.”

Seokjin despairs as Jungkook slips again. “Come on, Jungkookie. Stay with me, okay? You’re with your pack right now. You’re sitting in the living room, on the couch with some blankets. Taehyungie is here too. Can you describe the room to me?”

Jungkook sniffs, eyes glazed. “I’m, I’m—”

“Take a deep breath. Just tell me what color the walls are.”

“Yellow? But the facility has white walls…”

“That’s right, yellow walls. You’re not in the facility anymore. Can you tell me what my name is?”

It takes a bit of effort, but Jungkook manages to focus on the beta’s face. “Seokjin-hyung.” A bit of clarity returns to his visage. “Jinnie-hyung.”

Seokjin smiles warmly. “Good, that’s it, pup. Can you tell me what his name is?” He pulls Taehyung forward, and the lines in Jungkook’s face smooth out considerably when he catches sight of the omega.

“Taetae-hyung.” He takes in a shuddering breath, slipping back fully into the present as his eyes dart around and absorb his surroundings. His nose twitches as his gaze falls on Hoseok, and there’s a flash of heartbroken realization in his eyes. Junghyun isn’t here.

Seokjin gives him another approving smile, oblivious. “Take another breath for me. In for four and out for five, okay?”

Jungkook inhales deeply, concentrating on his breathing.

Another few minutes pass quietly before Seokjin gently places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “Are you back with us now?”

Jungkook nods, wincing as he pulls his hands away from arms. He stares at the brownish red crusted beneath his fingernails.

“You’re safe now,” Taehyung says, crowding forward and reaching out slowly to pick up Jungkook’s hand, headless of the blood. “I don’t care if we have to say it a thousand times for you to believe us. We’ll just keep reminding you until you believe it.”

Seokjin sits back, letting out a heavy breath of relief. Jungkook seems fatigued by the ordeal but stable now. “Aigoo, you scared us so badly, pup.” He feels just as drained as Jungkook looks. “Do you know what that was just now?”

“No…” The pup looks like he’s waiting for a reprimand. “It’s never happened before.”

“It’s called a flashback, when you’re stuck in a memory like that. It felt like you were reliving it, right?”

Jungkook shivers. “Yes.”

“Flashbacks and nightmares are common after people go through trauma. It’s nothing abnormal,” Seokjin says soothingly, running one hand rhythmically through Jungkook’s sweaty locks. Jungkook leans into the touch tiredly, eyes falling closed. “I hate to say this, but we need to sit down sometime to talk about triggers. But only when you feel ready, ok? We didn’t want to push too hard before, but now that it’s happening already, we need to try our best to prevent it from happening again.”

Jungkook’s eyes slit open. “Triggers?”

“Triggers for your flashbacks and panic attacks, tokki.” Seokjin catches himself as the last word slips out. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll stop calling you that. You said your brother—”

“No!” Something wet and bright shines in Jungkook’s eyes before he abruptly ducks his head into the blanket. A touch of red flares high on his cheeks. “No, it’s okay. I…I like it.” His admission comes out muffled and tiny.

Seokjin blinks, taken aback. “Alright, whatever makes you happy, tokki.” He tacks on the endearment, a bittersweet feeling in his chest. He wonders absently what kind of person Junghyun is.

Jungkook pulls the covers away, cheeks still tinted pink but something set in his expression. “And I think I’m ready to talk.” Despite the exhaustion marring his features, there’s a thread of steely determination in his tone.

Everyone gapes a bit at that.

“Are you sure?” Seokjin asks, concerned. “You just had a flashback though. Isn’t it too soon? You could get some rest tonight and talk tomorrow, if you want.”

Jungkook hesitates, assessing the roomful of faces. Something in their expression must give him assurance, because he steels himself and opens his mouth. His voice wobbles lightly with nervousness, but he meets Seokjin’s worried stare squarely.

“I think I need it. And you’ve all been so good to me… I don’t think it’s fair for you guys to keep tiptoeing around the subject. A-and I don’t think I could sleep tonight anyway.” He stumbles over the words but manages to get it out.

Taehyung leans forward. “Kookie, don’t force yourself to talk for our sake. You should talk when you feel ready.”

“I’m not!” Jungkook grips the comforter tightly. “I-I think it would help me. To get it out, I mean. I’m doing it for myself too. I feel ready.”

Taehyung settles back down, satisfied.

He’s learning. Learning to speak for himself.

Seokjin’s lips curve up, and Jungkook flushes at the proud light in his eyes. “Alright, tokki. After we get you cleaned up and after dinner, okay? I think we’ll need some energy for this.”

Jungkook gives them a wan smile. “Okay.”

He’s ready.

Chapter Text

i.

“No, no, don’t worry about the dishes,” Seokjin reassures, playfully flicking a couple droplets of sudsy water at Jungkook. He grins as the younger boy squeaks. “Go get settled in the living room, okay? And send Joonie over to help me. It’ll only take a few minutes, and we’ll be right over after we finish.” Jungkook nods reluctantly, and Seokjin’s smile softens.

“Don’t be anxious, tokki. You know no one in this pack will judge you, no matter what you decide to tell us. Or not tell us. Everything’s up to you. Got it, pup?” Jungkook relaxes slightly at the warmth in the beta’s eyes.

“Got it, hyung. But are you sure you don’t need help with the dishes?” The omega hedges hesitantly.

Seokjin smiles indulgently. Aish, what a good dongsaeng. If only all of those brats would willingly help with chores.

“No, Kookie, not today. Grab Namjoon for me, alright? That slacker needs to do his part once in a while.” Seokjin raises his soapy sponge in mock threat, and Jungkook retreats with a giggle.

“Okay, hyung. I’ll be waiting for you guys,” Jungkook replies, flashing a quick smile before scampering off in search of his pack alpha.

Seokjin turns back to the dishes.

Around the house, he can hear quiet footsteps and muted conversations as the pack slowly trickles into the living room.

He pauses in scrubbing the dishes, dark streaks of sauce and bits of charred meat still marring the porcelain. Thinks of the blackened lines of blood on pale skin. The ashy, acrid scent of fear.

Smile fading from his lips, Seokjin swallows back bile and prays for the strength to make it through Jungkook’s story.

ii.

Less than half an hour later, everyone is gathered in the living room, sprawled across the couches in various positions.

Even though a sleepy, post-meal lull hangs in the air, so does a faint strain of tension.

“I, um, I’m not really sure where to start.” Jungkook bites his lip nervously, gazing around at the expectant faces of his pack.

He’s tucked into a corner of the biggest couch, a blanket thrown across his thighs and a pillow clutched in his grip.

 “You could start wherever you want.” Taehyung’s lips quirk up in humor. “Or you could start from the beginning. Up to you.”

Jungkook hums, flexing his fingers restlessly, and Jimin cuts in. “And remember you can back out any time if it gets too overwhelming to talk about.”

Jungkook nods and lets out a deep breath, reassured by the support of his pack.

“Okay…I guess I’ll start from my childhood then. With Junghyun-hyung.” Jungkook’s eyes drift, a hint of melancholy tinting his voice as he remembers a blurry past.

The room is silent except for Jungkook’s soft voice, and together, they allow themselves to be immersed in the gentle cadence, swept away backwards in time.

“Neither of us knew our real parents well—actually, I don’t remember them at all and hyung never talks about them—and we were in the foster care system from the start. We met a few nice families along the way, but none of them wanted to keep us.” A rueful smile flits across his face, sadness bleeding into the shape of his words. “Hyung always promised me he would get us out when he turned eighteen—he’s five years older than me—and he did, but of course I messed it all up in the end…”

_____

“Jungkookie, is that you?” Junghyun mumbles, squinting at the darkened doorway. Dappled moonlight streams in through the blinds, and he can make out the faint outline of a small figure dragging along a blanket on the ground.

“Hyung…” Jungkook’s voice is petal soft in the silence of the room, still pitched high with the timbre of childhood.

Junghyun rolls over and lifts the edge of his blankets, lips turning up fondly when his little brother crawls in, curling tightly into the solid warmth. He pulls Jungkook closer, frowning at the icy shock of his little fingers and toes.

“What’s wrong, Jungkookie? Couldn’t sleep?” He can’t help the worry that seeps into his tone, rubbing at Jungkook’s arms and hands. He’s so cold.

“No…”

“Bad dream?”

Jungkook shakes his head against Junghyun’s chest, pressing in closer.

“What is it, then?” Junghyun keeps his voice light, but he’s unable to shake a feeling of unease. He knows his little brother well, and something about Jungkook is just off.

Jungkook doesn’t answer, and Junghyun keeps quiet, allowing the younger boy to seek the comfort he needs. Jungkook will open up with time when he’s ready. He always does.

By the time Junghyun is on the edge of drifting off, he hears Jungkook’s quiet whisper again.

“Hyung? Are you still awake?”

“Mmmm.” Junghyun cracks an eye open, trying to pull himself back into consciousness. “I’m awake, tokki.”

There’s another pause, and Junghyun rubs his eyes, waiting patiently for Jungkook to collect his thoughts.

“I… I heard Eomma and Appa talking about us today.”

Junghyun bites his tongue, just as he does every time he hears Jungkook call them mom and dad. The feeling of unease deepens.

“What did they say?”

“I didn’t really get all of it but Eomma said…um, not enough money? Re-try-mint? Re-retire—” Jungkook stumbles over the unfamiliar world, and Junghyun’s chest grows cold.

“Retirement?” He says carefully. “Is that what they said?”

Jungkook’s eyes light up. “Yeah! They said ‘retirement’ a lot. What does that mean, hyung?”

“It’s when people get old and stop working, Kook-ah. Did they say anything else?”

Jungkook’s brows furrow. “Why would they stop working?”

“Because they get tired. Working is hard, and after an entire life of working, most people just want to rest when they get old.” Junghyun tries to keep it simple for the sake of his five-year-old brother. “What did they say about us, Jungkookie? You said they were talking about us.” He tries his best to conceal the urgency in his voice, but Jungkook seems to hear it anyway, closing his mouth on another curious question.

“Um…Appa said something about sending us back? He sounded really sad. Eomma sounded sad too. I don’t like it when they’re sad.” Jungkook’s pained whisper fades out, and Junghyun’s heart aches at his brother’s sensitivity. “Where would they send us back to? I don’t want to go, hyung.”

“Back to the orphanage, tokki. I don’t know if you remember it, but I don’t want to go back either.” And he means it. Even though Junghyun is only ten, he understands at this point that they had gotten lucky—even extremely lucky—on their first try. They had been with the middle-aged Choi couple for about three years now—Jungkook was only two when he left the orphanage—and despite the extreme conservatism and modest livelihoods, they had never been mistreated, which was a blessing in and of itself.

Junghyun shivers and hugs Jungkook tighter. If they go back to the orphanage, there are no guarantees that they’ll find another stable family. He thinks of the whispered stories he had heard from older kids when they were still sleeping cold nights away in that little brown house.

“Hyung.” Jungkook winces and pushes at the older boy. “Ow, ow, hyung, it hurts! You’re squeezing me.”

Junghyun snaps out of his thoughts, gentling his hold immediately. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to squeeze so hard. I’m just—”

Scared. He thinks. I’m scared. For both of us.

“S’okay,” Jungkook mumbles, finally sounding sleepy. “Hyung, we’ll still have each other, right? Even if they do send us back.”

 “We’ll always have each other,” he promises, inhaling his little brother’s sweet scent. He gently brushes his neck against Jungkook’s, soothed by the familiar mix of chocolate and citrus. “I won’t let them separate us.”

“Okay.” Easily comforted, Jungkook returns the light scenting and smiles sweetly at Junghyun, eyes slipping closed. “Love you, hyung.”

Junghyun smiles at that, affection and fierce protectiveness welling up in his chest.

“Love you more, tokki.”

“Love you most.” Jungkook murmurs and yawns, the crinkle in his brow smoothing out as he succumbs to sleep.

Junghyun remains awake for a while after that, quietly observing his little brother’s peaceful slumber.

I’ll take care of you, no matter what.

It’s the vow of a lifetime.

________

“Tokki, don’t do that,” Junghyun laughs, tugging away a freshly laundered shirt from Jungkook’s stubborn grip.

Jungkook pulls it back, eyes bright with mischief, and Junghyun feigns a put-upon expression, only for Jungkook’s grin to melt into a puppy-eyed pout seconds later. Junghyun can’t help the endeared smile that pulls at his lips. Aish, he’s much too weak for his little brother.

They’re eight and thirteen now, and in the three years since leaving the Choi family, they’ve been through quite a few foster homes. Some better than others, but ultimately, none that wanted to keep them.

It hasn’t been the best, but it definitely hasn’t been the worst, Junghyun reminisces as he watches Jungkook giggling and rolling around in the laundry.

“Yah, you know we’re supposed to be folding this, not making a mess.”

Completely ignoring him, Jungkook stuffs his head into a pillowcase and pops up, flailing around short arms. 

“I’m a ghost!”

Junghyun shucks the pillowcase off Jungkook’s head and bops him on the nose. “You’re a little terror, that’s what you are. Come on, help me fold.”

“Hey!” Jungkook pouts again, rubbing his face. “That hurt.”

Junghyun snorts. “Did not, you big baby. I barely even touched you. And you can’t just pout at me and get away with everything. One day it’s just not gonna work anymore.”

“But it works now!” Jungkook gives him a triumphant bunny-toothed beam.

This insufferable brat.

“It’s not gonna work on Eunjin-noona when she gets back from grocery shopping and finds all the laundry messed up though,” Junghyun shoots back, smoothing out the fallen pillowcase. “You know she gets mad when we don’t finish our chores on time.”

Jungkook deflates at that, blowing his cheeks out. “But folding laundry isn’t fun.”

Stifling another affectionate laugh, Junghyun ruffles his little brother’s hair. “We can sing while we fold, how does that sound?”

Straightening up, Jungkook brightens visibly. “Can we sing that English song from the radio?”

“Fools? You’ve been singing that one for weeks, tokki. Isn’t there any other song you want to sing?”

The younger boy shakes his head obstinately, mouth set in a line. “I only wanna sing that one.”

With a grimace, Junghyun relents. “Fine, fine. Only once, okay? Next song choice is mine. And you have to remember to fold while you sing.”

Like a flip of a switch, Jungkook’s expression goes back to cheerful sunshine, and Junghyun suppresses yet another sigh. He’s just been played. Again. And he can’t even bring himself to be mad about it.

Picking up an errant sock, Junghyun shuffles through the pile of clothing as he joins into Jungkook’s soft melody. A moment later, it pops up under his nose, and Junghyun looks up to see Jungkook holding it up for him laughingly, posing it like a microphone and singing sweetly all the while. 

And so they sit side by side on the laundry room floor, voices harmonizing in the dryer-warmed air and heaps of clothing piled on their laps. The scent of detergent and softener wraps around them like a hug, and in that moment, Junghyun feels content.

Jungkook is all the family he needs.

________

“Don’t touch him!”

Slap.

Jungkook stares stunned at the blooming red imprint on Junghyun’s cheek, pushed halfway behind brother. He lowers his hand from his own cheek, an arm raised to block a hit that had never reached him.

Angry, bloodshot eyes glare at him from over Junghyun’s shoulder. Kang Jaehwan. Alpha. Fifth foster father. Abeo-nim.

Also extremely drunk.

“Your precious little brother is a good for nothing piece of trash. Eleven and still unpresented,” he sneers at Jungkook, tone distinctly mocking. “Probably going to end up a useless, dumb omega anyway. Look at how scrawny he is.” The balding man makes a move to grab at Jungkook, and Junghyun steps in front of him fully this time, knocking the fleshy arm away.

“I told you already, don’t you dare touch him.” Junghyun’s normally mild timbre is menacing in a way Jungkook’s never heard before, and the grapefruit in his citrusy scent takes on an uncomfortably bitter and sharp note.

Jaehwan’s eyes narrow with a hazy rage. “You’d do well to remember your place, beta. Do you want a goddamn beating too?” The ugly metallic odor of his aggression begins to pour into the air. “Don’t forget that I’m the one putting a roof over your head and food in your stomach. I’m the one paying for the clothes on your back. I’m the one that can kick you out onto the street in seconds. You are nothing in this household.” His hands curl into fists, and Jungkook’s heart jumps with apprehension.

He doesn’t hesitate as he pushes forward, standing side by side with Junghyun. Just because he’s eleven doesn’t mean he can’t stand up for himself or his brother.

“What are you doing—” Junghyun’s panicked whisper goes unheeded, and Jungkook meets Jaehwan’s gaze squarely.

“If you have a problem with me, don’t take it out on my brother.”

Junghyun’s eyes widen. “You idiot!” He tries to push Jungkook behind him again, but the younger remains immobile, stubborn and loyal to a fault. “Tokki, you need to keep your mouth shut—”

“Tokki?” Jaehwan laughs derisively. “A stupid little rabbit, is he? Certainly looks like one. Could probably sell a fat rabbit for more than this bag of stick and bones though.” All of a sudden, Jaehwan kicks a stocky leg out, nailing Jungkook with a solid blow to the stomach.   

Jungkook stumbles at the flare of pain but manages to keep his lips sealed on a shout. With an indistinct noise of fury, Junghyun pulls his younger brother into a protective embrace, shielding his body with his own.

“You can’t do this! We can report you to the orphanage and the organization, you know.” Junghyun’s voice shakes, but Jungkook can’t tell if it’s from anger or fear.

In the four months they had been here, it had never gotten so bad.

Granted, in these four months, Jaehwan had never gotten so drunk either.

A contemptuous smirk pulls over Jaehwan’s visage. “You think I don’t have connections? You’d be surprised at how much money can cover up.” His eyes flash coldly. “How much money can silence.”

“Why are you even keeping us here anyway?” Jungkook fires back hotly. “You don’t even want kids! We could go back to the orphanage tomorrow if you wanted.” You don’t like us, and we don’t like you, he thinks. It could be a win-win, and even the bland, strict orphanage was a million times better than putting up with this…piece of shit.

Jaehwan roars. “Because that moronic cunt of an omega wants kids! Fucking little wife club and her idiotic omega friends spreading rumors everywhere, now I have to keep you two to keep up images! Least I could do in investing in a couple money-sucking punching bags is get some use out of you, doncha think?”

In the echoing silence after the rant, the three of them hear the distant sound of a car door slamming.

The door opens, and a soft feminine “I’m home” resonates through the house moments before Kang Minji steps into view.

She stiffens and takes in the scene within seconds, something calculating—and maybe just a little bit regretful—flitting through eyes as she observes the red mark on Junghyun’s face and Jungkook’s arm cradling his midsection.

She doesn't say anything about it though. 

“Come on, boys, I bought dinner on the way back from work. Let’s sit down in the kitchen.” She turns to Jaehwan, lips pulled up into a carefully structured smile. She prudently avoids commenting on his state of inebriation. “Honey, do you want me to heat some up for you too? Or did you eat already?”

Jaehwan grunts. “I ate already. Gonna go to sleep now. Don’t bother me.” His heavy footsteps retreat up the staircase, and the tension bleeds from the room, Jungkook sagging into Junghyun’s embrace.

Minji silently heats up dinner, back to the two boys the entire time. She sets the containers of food in front of them and excuses herself immediately after, reminding them to clean up after themselves when they finish.

Junghyun catches her pulling down her sleeve over a yellowing bruise on her wrist as she leaves the room.

“Hyung,” Jungkook says quietly. Neither of them reach for the food. “If Jaehwan-abeonim tries to hit me again, don’t try to protect me, okay?”

Junghyun blinks and wonders if he heard right.

He eyes the younger boy incredulously. “What kind of request is that? You’re my little brother, of course I’m going to try to protect you! Especially if that absolute shitstain tries to hit you again.”

Jungkook’s eyes are sad but hard. “I know, but it just makes him angrier. Just don’t, okay? I’m old enough to handle myself, and a couple punches and kicks won’t kill me.”

“You can’t ask me to do that!” Junghyun’s clenches his hands in frustration. “I can’t. I can’t just stand on the side and watch you get beaten up, and if you wouldn’t do it if I were the one getting kicked either!”

Jungkook remains silent at that, chest tight. Junghyun’s right. He would never stand to the side either if it was reversed.

“Is there any way we can go back to the orphanage or get out?” Jungkook whispers, voice small.

Shutting his eyes tiredly, Junghyun drops his head onto the table. The anger and fear drains out of him, leaving him exhausted. His brother’s just trying to look out for him too, he knows.

“I don’t think they’re going to let us go, tokki.” The cold wood of the table digs into his cheek. “Did you see that bruise on Minji-eomeonim’s wrist? I doubt she wants to be a punching bag either, and if we’re here to take her place, she won’t get hit anymore.”

A bad taste lingers in his mouth, and both of them seem to come to the conclusion at the same time.

They’re on their own.

The orphanage won’t take them back or help them if they’re accepting bribes from Jaehwan.  

“Can we run?” Jungkook asks, and Junghyun presses his lips together for a long moment.

“Tokki.” he sounds pained. “I’m sixteen right now, and I can’t work legally unless I have guardian permission.” It goes unsaid that there’s no way he’s going to get that. “Two more years, and I promise I’ll get both of us out, ok? And if it really gets too bad—” Junghyun winces at that. Just how much worse can it get? “—if it really gets starts to get too serious, we’ll run. But we’ll stick it out for now, ok?”

“Ok.” Jungkook gives his brother a wobbly smile, trying to put on a brave face.

“Oh, Jungkookie.” Junghyun can’t help the tears that blur his vision. He feels near breaking point after tonight, and it’s just too much. It’s too much. He forgets sometimes that he’s only sixteen, and his little brother—his dear, dear little brother—is only eleven, forced to grow up too soon. He pulls the younger boy into his lap, burying his face into the unruly head of locks.

A gentle hand wipes away the wetness on his chin and pats him tenderly on his reddened cheek. Jungkook presses a fleeting kiss on the same places and then leans into Junghyun’s shoulder.

“Stay strong, hyung. We still have each other, right?”

Junghyun laughs, slightly hysterical, and thanks whoever is watching over them for giving him such an incredible little brother. Five years older, yet he’s the one being comforted.

“We still have each other,” he confirms, remembering promises he made in that moonlight dappled bedroom six years ago. Jungkook is now one year older than Junghyun was when he said those words. It’s almost surreal to think about.

“I love you, hyung,” Jungkook mumbles into his chest, embarrassed. He hasn’t said that in a while, too abashed and self-conscious with the unfamiliar fit of older age, but it feels needed now.

After getting kicked in the stomach and watching his older brother get slapped across the face, it feels needed now more than ever.

“I love you more,” Junghyun whispers back. It comes out a little hoarse, but raw and sincere.

“Love you most.”

Jungkook smiles.

Chapter Text

Jungkook presents two days after his lackluster twelfth birthday.

He’s walking home with Junghyun after yet another tiring day at school, golden leaves falling around them and the start of an autumn chill seeping into the air. Swaths of chilly blue shade the sky in between rapidly shifting clusters of clouds, and Jungkook snuggles a little deeper into the fluffy red hoody Junghyun had given him for his birthday.

They were still living with the Kang family, and despite the generous state of their wealth, Jungkook had received nothing but a grunt from Jaehwan and a clearly secondhand sweater from Minji. Jaehwan had almost been borderline nice on his birthday though, and that in itself was a wonderful (and astonishing) gift in Jungkook’s eyes.

(The highlight of his day was when Junghyun had pulled him into their shared room after dinner, flicking on the lights with an anticipatory grin. He excitedly pushed a carefully packaged parcel into Jungkook’s hands, who had started tearing up when he saw that even the wrapping paper was red and black, his favorite colors. Jungkook meticulously pulled back the layers of tape and paper, fingers delicate despite his enthusiasm and stunned joy.

“Do you like it?” Junghyun asked, wringing his hands nervously as Jungkook held up the oversized red hoodie. He knew his little brother had a preference for loose clothing (his favorite worn tees would frequently go missing and suspiciously reappear in the laundry basket with a distinctly familiar sweet scent), and Jungkook’s love for red had never been a secret in the first place (which Junghyun deeply suspected had developed from his continuing obsession with Iron Man).

“I love it! Thank you, hyung, thank you, thank you,” Jungkook cried, tackling his brother in a bear hug, eyes shining with tears.

“Oof—hey, hey, why are you crying? It’s just a hoodie.” Junghyun caught Jungkook around the waist, letting him bury his wet sniffles into his shoulder.

“It’s not just a hoodie! Hyung, you must have saved up so long for this, an-and the paper was red and black too—I’m just so happy—” Jungkook broke off, choked, and Junghyun patted his back, pretending his eyes weren’t a little damp too. He had saved up for a long time, cutting school meals when he could, squirreling away his portion of the meager daily lunch stipends that Minji would hand them.

“Don’t worry about it, Kook-ah.” Junghyun hugged his little brother close, cherishing the familiar scent of chocolate and the warm body curled against his. It’s worth it if it makes you this happy. “Try it on for hyung to see, alright?”)

Jungkook pulls the oversized hood over his head, and the fabric droops around his head, obscuring his eyes and bangs. Junghyun eyes him with amusement, hitching his heavy schoolbag higher on his shoulder as they walk. “Enjoying your gift, tokki?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond for a long moment, walking mindlessly along the curb, lost in his own thoughts.

“Earth to Jeon Jungkookie,” Junghyun intones in a deep voice, laughing.

“Huh?” Jungkook blinks and startles, kicking over a small pile of leaves. “Sorry, hyung, I didn’t hear you. What did you say?” He turns an apologetic grimace on his older brother, and Junghyun can’t help himself from giving the younger an affectionate hair ruffle.

“Nothing important,” Junghyun says, eyes warm. “You’ve been really spacy these couple of days, Kook-ah. You sure you’re okay?” They stop at an intersection, and he places a hand on Jungkook’s forehead, stopping their homeward journey momentarily.

“You feel kinda warm,” Junghyun notes, frowning. “Maybe you’re coming down with something. Have you been feeling sick?” He tries to pull down Jungkook’s hood to get a better look at his face, but Jungkook stiffens and squirms away from the touch. All he catches is a glimpse of flushed cheeks before the younger boy pulls back abruptly and pushes his hand away.

“I-I’m fine, hyung. Really. Don’t worry about it.” Jungkook fixes his hood again and drops his gaze evasively when Junghyun scrutinizes him with concern.

“Well…I’m always here if you change your mind,” Junghyun replies, clearly not buying his little brother’s careless brush-off.

Jungkook kicks over another pile of leaves, intentionally this time, scattering the dried foliage across the street and scuffing his shoes roughly. One hand is fisted tightly in the strap of his backpack, and as the next breeze blows by, it brings a faintly bitter undertone mixed in with Jungkook’s scent. That barely there tinge smells angry and upset and nervous and just…wrong.

Almost violently, Jungkook kicks his foot through yet another cluster of leaves.

With a frown, Junghyun catches Jungkook’s hand in his own. His little brother usually never acts out, and in the few times he had ever witnessed Jungkook’s tantrums, they were usually justifiable in some way. Jungkook didn’t just throw tantrums for the sake of it, as it seemed many other children were prone to doing, and Junghyun is infinitely grateful for that.

But it also puts him on edge now, especially when he can’t think of anything strange that’s happened in the past few days that could have incited his little brother’s ire.

“Jungkook, did something happen at school?” He grips the smaller fingers tighter in his own and hesitates. “Like…problems with your friends or teachers? Grades? Or…bullying?”

“No! Jeez, stop it already! I told you already, I’m fine.” Jungkook rips his hand out of his brother’s grip, mouth slanted mulishly, and Junghyun can’t help the flash of hurt that sluices through him.

They approach an intersection, and Jungkook picks up his pace, hurrying blindly away and across the road. A horn blares loudly, and Jungkook’s head snaps up as a car barely misses him, the driver rolling down the window to shout curses before blasting away.

“Jungkook!” Junghyun cries, well and truly anxious now. He checks the road before racing after his little brother, fisting one hand into the straps on Jungkook’s backpack when he catches up. Junghyun pulls the younger to a reluctant halt in the middle of the empty sidewalk, heart thrumming with residual fear and adrenaline.

“Jungkook, stop! You almost got yourself killed! You’re not okay.” He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself and get through Jungkook’s increasingly stony countenance. He softens his voice and pretends it doesn’t come out a little choked. “Please. I just want to know why you’re acting so strangely. Don’t push me away, tokki. I can’t lose you, and you know that. Please, please, just talk to me.”

He tugs his little brother into a bone-crushing hug, heart still pounding unevenly. And deep down inside, Junghyun can admit that his concern, his motives, his love is selfish. As much as he cares about his little brother, this is about himself too—about what Jungkook means to him. Junghyun would be stripped bare—some irremovable piece of himself carved out and left bleeding—without Jungkook, and he can’t lose him, selfish as it is. And he’s seen other siblings, other families that grow apart, that spit and trample each other over trivialities. He’s seen it, and he’s feared it, and he’s sworn he would never let it happen to Jungkook and himself.

He can’t let it happen.

“Please, Jungkook. Talk to me.” His voice cracks, and Junghyun knows something as small as a petty argument shouldn’t make him so scared, but it does, and he can’t help it.

There’s a small sigh from beneath his chin, a fisted hand in Junghyun’s shirt, and then Jungkook slumps against the taller boy in defeat. His voice is thick when he muffles his words against his older brother’s chest.

“I’m sorry, hyung. I didn’t mean to get mad, but I just—I couldn’t help it,” he says helplessly. “I’ve been feeling really weird for like the past three days…” And he has, now that he thinks about it: he had been falling asleep in class when he’s usually the most attentive student, snapping at his friends and even the nice girl who had wanted to work with him on a project.

(And when Yugyeom had tried to give him their customary greeting hug, Jungkook had flinched away, skin abruptly hypersensitive and too hot. He tried to pretend he didn’t see his friend’s look of confused disappointment.

“Jungkook? Jungkook, your face is really red. And you smell a little off.”

“I’m fine, Gyeom.”

Dark eyes widened in realization.

“Oh, Jungkook, you should go to the nurse! I think you might be—”

“Gyeomie, seriously, stop. I’m probably just red from gym, ok? Drop it.”)

“And someone…some upperclassman cornered me in at my locker today.” Jungkook shudders and thinks about the overbearing beta wearing alpha cologne; he smelled like stale tomatoes underneath the overbearing fake musk, and his smarmy grin had immediately put Jungkook on edge.

Junghyun stiffens. “What happened?”

“Um, well, I might have overreacted.” Jungkook winces. He’d seen that boy around before, hitting on omegas along with an entire posse of betas that wore cloying cologne and postured and generally tried to act like the alphas they were not. It didn’t impress him one bit.

“Yeah…Imayhavegottenreallyangryandslammedmylockerdooronhisfootandtoldhimtofuckoff?” It bursts out like a question, and Jungkook tries for an innocent smile.

Junghyun halfway laughs through his groan of dismay. “Aish, Kook-ah, I’d tell you that I’m proud of you for kicking his ass if I didn’t have to remind you that violence isn’t the answer. Still kind of proud though.” He pauses and ruffles Jungkook’s hair carefully. “Is that everything though? You said you were feeling weird, even before today.”

“Ah, yeah…” Jungkook flushes slightly and burrows his face more deeply into his brother’s familiar scent. “I’ve been feeling really warm and dizzy sometimes, and I keep getting upset over little things even though I know they don’t mean anything.”

“Hmm.” Junghyun’s eyes narrow in thought, and he takes a moment to thoroughly scent his little brother, nudging beneath his chin where a set of glands lie.

“Ah! Hyung, don’t!” Jungkook squirms away, cheeks reddening. “It’s sensitive.”

Junghyun laughs gently, finally finding what he had suspected. Under the fading tint of bitterness from his earlier anger and upset, the sweetness of his chocolate scent is stronger than ever, met with emerging hints of caramel. The smell is distinctly omega, and Junghyun can’t think of any other possibility for Jungkook’s symptoms than the onset of his first heat.

“Jungkook-ah, you’re going into heat. These past few days were probably your preheat, which is why you’ve been feeling so off. You’ve taken sex-ed already, right? They teach it in sixth grade for the early presenters.”

Oh. Jungkook blushes furiously, embarrassed to his toes. It all makes sense now, but he’d rather jump off a bridge than listen to his brother talk about omega biology. “Argh, hyung! Of course I took it, you don’t need to tell me. I just…I didn’t realize I was presenting.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop,” Junghyun smiles mirthfully at Jungkook’s embarrassment. It’s adorable. “Let’s get you home, alright? By the sound of it, you’re heat’s probably going to hit sometime tonight or tomorrow, since you’ve had such a long preheat already. I can ask Minji-eomeonim to call into the school to excuse you.”

He tugs Jungkook along, chest infinitely lighter than before. With a pang of nostalgia, Junghyun hopes this won’t change things between them, but he’s well aware of the harsh judgement and unforgiveness of the society they live in. Junghyun’s already received a multitude of nasty comments and lewd implications for having such a close relationship with his brother, but it had been acceptable to a degree because Jungkook had still been unpresented—still regarded as a child. Now though, as a presented omega and a healthy beta, Junghyun has no doubt that the criticism will become heavier, more toxic. Incest isn’t unheard of, but it’s nonetheless heavily frowned upon, stigmatized and seen as something dirty and disgraceful by most.

Junghyun sighs. Close-minded people and their narrow, petty little worlds. He thinks about the pretty omega girls and broad alpha boys prepositioning him in the corner of the lunch room, all of whom had sniffed angrily and slanted suspicious glances at his brother when he had turned them down with an apologetic smile and a quick sorry, I’m not looking for someone to date right now. It’s not you, really.

He supposes he’ll have to come out sometime to Jungkook about being asexual; he’s been certain of it for long enough that he knows it’s not just a phase. And Jungkook deserves to know, now that he’s presenting and growing up himself too. Junghyun wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea, close as they are.  

But for now, he’s happy, his little brother’s hand warm in his as the leaves blow by and the sky darkens to a beautiful mesh of deep orange and pinks. Jungkook’s eyes are bright and open again, the crook of his mouth peaceful, his posture relaxed and happy despite the symptoms of his oncoming heat.

Jungkook catches his eye and smiles sweetly, momentary spat and embarrassment faded and forgotten as quick as it had appeared, and Junghyun achingly, sorely wants this moment to last.

He wants them to never change.

___________

Later that night, Jungkook’s heat starts in earnest.

Junghyun’s just about to sprinkle a handful of bath salts into the half-filled tub of water when Jungkook stumbles in, a light sheen of sweat covering his face.

“Hyung? Hyung, I don’t feel so great,” Jungkook says tightly, one hand clenching at his stomach and the other propped on the door. His face is whitening with pain, and Junghyun can immediately tell that the cramps have started.

Junghyun tries to smile soothingly, quickly dropping the fragrant salts into the water before beckoning Jungkook into the small bathroom. He winces in sympathy as Jungkook gasps a little, pressing at his abdomen.

“Hyung ran a bath for you, so try to relax for a little before the next stage of your heat starts, okay? The hot water and the Epsom salt are supposed are supposed to help your muscles loosen up and not cramp so bad.” Junghyun smiles wryly and helps tug the younger boy’s shirt over his head, careful not to jostle the younger boy too much when he’s clearly in discomfort. “C’mon, let’s get you in there before the real party hits.”

He watches Jungkook’s face carefully as he sinks into the water, the unconscious tangle of worry loosening a bit as the pinch between the younger boy’s brows smooths out gradually. 

“Not too hot, is it?”

“Mm, no. It’s good, hyung.”

With an amused chuckle, Junghyun rises from his crouch next to the tub and picks up Jungkook’s sweaty school clothes. “I’ll bring some clean clothes and be back in a little, alright? Don’t fall asleep in there, tokki.”

“Hmm…okay. I’ll try my best.” Jungkook’s voice is just a little slurred, his expression pleasantly blissed out from the therapeutic heat of the bath. Junghyun smiles fondly, and Jungkook forces his heavy eyes open. “Thanks, hyung. For taking care of me.”

“Anything for you,” Junghyun says, tapping Jungkook’s nose with a damp finger. The world for you, tokki. Junghyun watches as Jungkook’s nose scrunches up indignantly in protest, hopelessly endeared. “Call if you need anything, okay?” Jungkook murmurs an assent, and Junghyun steps out, gently clicking the door shut behind him.

He’s barely taken a step before he trips over a small cardboard box on the ground of the hallway, which definitely had not been there before. Curious, he picks it up, catching the note that flutters out.

A brief scan has his lips tightening. Another blind eye, another escape, another act of cowardice from their foster mother.

A dull roar from the garage signals the engine of the car, and Junghyun bitterly watches as bright headlights sweep out of the driveway and vanish into the darkening night.

So much for asking Minji-eomeonim for guidance.

Junghyun crumples up the paper in his hand, the neat, feminine penmanship deforming beneath his fingers. She won’t be back for another week or so, claiming refuge in a supposed emergency business trip. Flipping through the rest of the box’s contents, Junghyun takes quick inventory of the other items and finds himself reluctantly grateful, even though this is the bare minimum that Minji could have done to support Jungkook through his first heat.

And honestly, Junghyun’s tired of this. He’s weary of the constant avoidance, the ever-growing guilt in Minji’s face as the weeks drag into months and she continues to turn away each and every time. At first, Junghyun had been angry, had railed and raged internally at her, at someone with power and means to help both of them, to get them out, to get herself out.

But time had passed, tripping and tumbling but still moving forward, and his anger had faded into pity. Because that’s what it really comes down to in the end; those who have constructed glass prisons in their own minds and have convinced themselves of their own helplessness—these are the people who are truly crippled. The prison of the psyche is stronger than any physical prison can ever be. And Junghyun sees those glass bars behind Minji’s eyes, creations of her subconscious that cage her in, and he can no longer find anger within himself. Just horrible pity, for a woman who has crippled herself.

Junghyun sighs and patters down the stairs, box in hand as he pulls himself out of his thoughts. Better to focus on Jungkook than waste energy on ruminating anyway.

Junghyun makes a quick sweep through the kitchen and the laundry room, grabbing some water and fruit before stopping at the laundry room. The door swings shut behind Junghyun as he rifles through the pile of dryer-warm clothing, the repetitive whirring of the washer’s spin cycle drowning out everything else.

Junghyun completely misses the creak of the garage door opening and closing, the rumble of an engine cutting off, the jangle of keys and the muted footsteps that tread up the stairs.

He hums quietly to himself, picking through the mix of t-shirts and sweatpants. Jungkook will appreciate the comfort and scent of Junghyun’s oversized tees, though he’ll probably put up a fuss trying to deny it. Junghyun’s lips quirk up imagining it, and he snags several of his own worn in tshirts to add to his stack before flicking the lights off.

Junghyun tries to fit everything into the box, stacking items haphazardly before trudging up the stairs again.

He’s on the second step when scent hits him, immediate and sharp—the biting metallic odor of alpha aggression and arousal.

Jaehwan is home.

Panic crawls up Junghyun’s throat, and he mentally berates himself. He knows the time their foster father returns everyday from drinking at the bar; how could he have forgotten about Jaehwan?

Junghyun drops the box, racing up the stairs.

He reaches the top of the stairwell, and it takes him half a second to evaluate, trepidation pulsing heavily as he registers Jaehwan’s hand reaching toward the bathroom doorknob.

Junghyun throws himself forward, pushing the older man’s arm aside as he slides in front of the door. His lips pull up into a defensive snarl, and Jaehwan’s eyes flash angrily, pupils dilated and face flushed.

“I knew it. I knew that little shit was an omega. God, he smells so—” Jaehwan’s rant breaks off into a moan, and Junghyun shudders in disgust, ice slipping through his veins. The visceral intent in his eyes—in his scent—is so obvious, and terror pours through Junghyun, horrible and sickening.

Physical abuse is one thing, but this…

This is where he draws the line.

“Stay away from him,” Junghyun snaps, and there’s a thread of desperation in his voice. This can’t come down to a fight. It can’t. Junghyun can’t win. The words taste like bile in his mouth, but he forces them out.

“Please, please. Anything but this. You can’t,” Junghyun falters. “You can’t touch him, please. Don’t do this.” He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the sobs are ripping out of his throat.

Behind his back, Junghyun hears water splashing and then a short, distressed whine. The bitter scent of omega fear seeps through the cracks of the door, and Jaehwan’s nostrils flare threateningly.

“Telling me what I can or can’t do? You’ve got some nerve.” His words are slightly slurred. “I can do whatever the hell I want.”

All of a sudden, Jungkook’s scent doubles in intensity, and the honeyed smell of slick floods the hall. Junghyun curses, halfway to ripping his hair out. Jungkook’s hitting the next stage of his heat, and everything—everything—is spiraling out of control.

Jaehwan laughs spitefully, inhaling deeply. “Look at that,” he mocks. “Little omega wants to get fucked, but here you are, keeping him from exactly what he needs. Alpha cock.”

Lips curling into a leer, Jaehwan reaches for the door again, and Junghyun catches his arm, blocking the door with his body.

“Don’t.” Junghyun’s breathing is coming shallowly now, true panic setting in. His innocent little brother, spread out underneath the older man, struggling, crying—Junghyun gasps. No. No.

Desperation claws at him, and an idea abruptly grips his mind.

It’s the only way.

“Don’t come out, Jungkook. Stay in there, no matter what.” Junghyun’s words are sharp despite the dread that weighs down his tongue. He turns to the older man. “Please, Jaehwan-abeonim, you can have me. But you can’t touch Jungkook, even if he’s in heat.”

Jaehwan pauses, ugly sneer still in place, but his dark eyes are appraising. “Oh? You think you’ll be a better fuck than an omega? Didn’t know you were such a cockslut too.”

Junghyun swallows down his tears. I’m not, I’m not. I’m really not.  “I am. I-I’ll do it, anytime you want, I promise. I won’t fight. Just don’t touch my little brother, and you can have me.”

There’s a pregnant pause, and then Jaehwan drops his arm, darkly amused. “Isn’t that adorable. You love your brother so much. So desperate that you’d be a slut for him.”

Junghyun remains silent. He feels sick.

“Alright then, since you’re so desperate to whore yourself out. But the instant you try to say no—to anything—I’ll come for Jungkook.”

“Yes, I understand.” Junghyun chokes down his pride and sinks to his knees. “Can I—please, j-just one more thing. Let me help Jungkook through his heat first, and then I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Already trying to test me? Little bitch,” Jaehwan growls. “You want to whore your brother out too, don’t you?”

Junghyun shakes his head frantically, squeezes his eyes shut. Think of Jungkook, think of Jungkook. He raises one hand shakily and palms at the tent in Jaehwan’s pants. “Please, anything but Jungkook.”

After a moment, Jaehwan laughs delightedly. “I should’ve used this a long time ago. Should’ve known I could make you bend over just by mentioning your brother. Oh, this is incredible. What a slut.”

He slaps Junghyun across the face.

“Put that mouth to good use then, and I’ll let you off just for your Jungkook’s heat. As soon as it’s over though…understand?” Jaehwan’s threat hangs ominously in the air.

Junghyun drops his gaze, tries his best to ignore the staticky buzz in his head. Jungkook’s whines are getting louder.

“Yes, abeonim. I understand.”

Jaehwan’s hand forces his head down.

_________

“Jungkook-ah, Jungkookie, wake up.”

A soft groan, and the younger boy rolls over, sleepily blinking his eyes open. Dark circles ring his eyes, his face lined with fatigue, but his heat is finally winding down. It’s been three long days since that night in front of the bathroom door, but Jaehwan has kept his promise thus far, keeping his distance from the omega.

Junghyun shivers. His grace period is almost up.

Summoning up a brittle smile, Junghyun brushes a hand through Jungkook’s sweaty hair, heart squeezing as he nuzzles into the touch. The overwhelming sweetness in the boy’s scent has mellowed into a pleasant mix of chocolatey caramel, and Junghyun thinks with no little affection that it’s a fitting scent that suites Jungkook.

“Hyung? What’s wrong?” Jungkook rubs his eyes and sits up, nose wrinkling. “You smell…scared.”

Junghyun exhales heavily. He is scared. There’s no other way to put it.

“Three days. That’s enough for a first heat, isn’t it? I’ll give you three days, and that’s it.”

Tired but fully awake, Jungkook tugs at his older brother’s hand, concern evident in his eyes. “What is it? Is it…” He hesitates. “Does it have something to do with Jaehwan-abeonim?”

Junghyun grips Jungkook’s hand tightly, eyes tightening. He doesn’t know how much Jungkook remembers from three days ago, when he was slipping into a heat-induced delirium, but he deserves to know. To know why Junghyun has chosen this for them, why this is the last straw.

“Jungkook-ah…remember what I said all those months ago, when we were in the kitchen?” He takes a deep breath and tugs his brother close.

“I said…I said we would run if it got bad enough.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen.

“We’re leaving?”

“I-I…yes, we’re leaving.” Junghyun sniffs harshly, bracing himself for the backlash. It’s selfish, he berates himself. He can protect Jungkook, keep this roof over their head, put food in their stomachs—if only he was willing to give up his body. But he’s too selfish, he can’t even do this for his brother—

Jungkook tackles him in a hug, and he’s smiling fiercely. His cheeks are wet, but he’s smiling.

“Thank god, hyung. I thought you wouldn’t let us leave.”

Junghyun is stunned. “What?”

“I’m not blind or deaf, you know, even if I’m in heat. I-I could smell him on you, and I caught most of what he said.” Jungkook’s blinks wetly. “An-and I was afraid you’d do it, that you’d go to him and hurt yourself trying to protect me. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself that happened. I want to leave too, and I thought I’d have to convince you to run.” He buries his face into Junghyun’s shoulder. “But I’m glad you didn’t do it, hyung, I’m so glad.”

“You’re allowed to care for yourself too, hyung,” Jungkook whispers. “You should love yourself more than you love me, if anything.”

Junghyun sits there silently, his brother’s hair tickling his cheek, his heart tearing in his chest. Because somewhere along the way, he had begun to internalize the hatred, the curses and hits. He’d failed to give Jungkook the childhood he deserved, and somewhere along the way, he’d forgotten about losing the childhood he himself deserved. And those thoughts of inadequacy—of self-loathing and hurt and failure—had manifested like shadows of his subconscious, biting at his heels when his guards were down, nipping at his insecurities in the still hours of the night.

It hadn’t changed his love for his brother, but it had changed his view of himself.

After all, slice at something sensitive for long enough, and it’ll begin to scar.

“Oh, tokki.” Junghyun laughs a little brokenly. “I don’t think I can love anyone as much as I love you, especially not myself.”

“Then I’ll love you,” Jungkook says simply. “I’ll love you until you can learn to love yourself. No matter where we end up or what happens when we run, I’ll be there, hyung. Omega, beta, even…even if you were an alpha, that doesn’t change things. I’d still love you. Okay?”

“Okay.” The word comes out a little painfully, small and tight, crawling from around the lump in Junghyun’s throat. It’s not the right time to rip off the covers of his asexuality, but at least he has the comfort of knowing Jungkook will be by his side, gender and sexuality be damned. “Okay.”

And so Junghyun squeezes down the burbling tide of emotion, pulling himself together. There are so many things to account for and not enough time. But beneath all the fear and uncertainty—where will they even go?—a sweet wash of relief flows through him.

They’re finally getting out.

Chapter Text

Next chapter is up! I realized that I can't delete this chapter without deleting all the comments, so I'm going to keep this here until the next couple chapters get posted and I can shift everything backwards by one. 

Chapter Text

It’s been almost two months since they ran, and nothing feels safe anymore.

They’re an omega and a beta on the run, fleeing as far as they can out of the area on foot and public transport, the only thing affordable on such meager funds. Jumping from shelter to shelter can only sustain them so far, especially when the shelters themselves are understaffed and underbudgeted, overfilled and surrounded by dangerous neighborhoods.

Junghyun has spotted their pictures on the news and on papers more than a couple times in the weeks after they vanished, and he knows there are people looking for them.

He had managed to get some cheap hair dye from a drugstore, dying his own hair a dark chestnut and Jungkook’s choppy locks a lighter honey brown to change their appearances. He had also managed to purchase scent blockers for Jungkook and alpha cologne for himself, and to a passing outsider, they would seem more like an unassuming alpha and beta pair than anything else.

They’ve been staying at a small shelter in a community just outside of Seoul, a good distance and many towns away from both the orphanage and the Kangs. It’s still not ideal though—they’re edging on two weeks in this one location, and Junghyun is starting to feel that itch of fear and paranoia again. They need to move. Too long and people will start to recognize their faces, their habits and tells. They’ll start asking questions.

It’s a risk they can’t afford.

“Jungkook-ah.” Junghyun leaves his dirty plate in the dish collection bin and returns to the dining table, brushing Jungkook’s too-long bangs out of his eyes. He smiles as Jungkook yawns sleepily and nudges into the touch. He misses the familiar scent of chocolate and caramel; Jungkook only smells like the blankness of scent blockers now.

“Start packing up after you finish breakfast, ok? We’re leaving this shelter today.”

Surprised, Jungkook looks up from his bowl of soup, spoon halfway to his mouth, and Junghyun observes the thinness of Jungkook’s face, the jut of his collarbones with concern. Did it look that thin yesterday?

“We’re leaving already? But…” Jungkook casts a look around the communal breakfast area wistfully. “Do we really have to? No one’s really looking for us anymore, are they?” Jungkook stares pleadingly, lips tipping into the beginning of a pout.

“We really can’t, Jungkook.” Junghyun blows out a frustrated breath. He hates ripping Jungkook away every time he’s finally feeling a little more settled, but they have to keep moving to get into Seoul, into the city. The city is where they can blend without being noticed, where the jobs are, where people don’t ask questions.

Seoul is where they can take safety in anonymity.

“Just one last move, ok? We’ll get to Seoul, and then we can start looking for somewhere to settle. Maybe a cheap apartment or something once I save up enough. A lot of labor jobs in the city don’t ask too much about identity or certification, so I’m sure I can get a job there.” Questionable off-the-grid jobs perhaps, but money was money.

Jungkook stares morosely into his bowl but nods slowly. His spoon drips tepid soup onto the table, forgotten, and the drops splash onto the browned surface unevenly like cloudy tears.

“I’ll say goodbye to Soojin-noona after I pack then,” Jungkook says quietly, pulling his expression together as much as he can.

The watery smile Jungkook manages to muster up is nowhere near convincing, but Junghyun still cups the back of his neck comfortingly and nods. There’s nothing else he can do. “I’ll wait for you outside. Take all the time you need.” He reflects, a touch painfully, how he doesn’t have a single person to whom he needs to say goodbye. He hadn’t had the heart to tell Jungkook to stay away from other kids near his age, but for himself…the thought of making friends—perhaps even forming close friendships—while knowing they would part in just weeks was too much to bear. 

And perhaps it had been cruel of him not to cut off Jungkook’s friendships at the root by the same reasoning, but at the same time, it had seemed even crueler to deprive Jungkook of such happiness, even if it was fleeting and bittersweet.

So he stands outside the shelter, mentally taking inventory of their supplies and rapidly diminishing money as he waits. Thinks of the girl Jungkook is saying his farewells to, an omega girl—Soojin—several years older than Jungkook that had clicked with him immediately. Thinks of late nights when the two of them would whisper stories and giggle softly into the early hours of the morning when they thought Junghyun had fallen asleep.

(“You’re…you’re actually an omega too, aren’t you, Kook?” Soojin’s raspy whisper is hesitant, and Junghyun’s eyes flicker open where he lies a couple feet away in the darkness, alert and wary.

There’s a beat of silence, and then Jungkook’s equally hushed voice whispers back. “How’d you know? I thought the scent blockers were working.”

Soojin’s chuckles gently. “They are, don’t worry. It’s just how you hold yourself, you know? You automatically drop your eyes around alphas and you hunch your shoulders and sorta-I dunno, curl up when anyone approaches you. That’s just some of it. Some people might brush it off as shyness, but observant people can recognize typical omega behavior tells, especially other omegas.”

There’s no immediate reply from Jungkook, and Junghyun imagines that he’s digesting the information, perhaps mind racing through all the people they’ve met that may have seen through his disguise. Junghyun himself lies frozen as well, apprehension nipping at his heels. He’d never realized just how flimsy their veneer of pretense was.

The faint sound of rustling fabric reaches Junghyun’s ears as Soojin rubs Jungkook’s arm soothingly. “Aish, Kook-ah, it’s nothing too big. It’s just that if you want to pretend to be a beta, you have to copy their body language too. Your brother is a bit better than you at acting.”

Jungkook gasps, and Soojin’s whispery laugh is knowing. “Don’t tell him I said anything, ok? Junghyun-oppa’s tendency to be overprotective comes off pretty well as alpha possessiveness, and he keeps himself separate enough from others to seem aloof. Not to mention that nasty fake musk keeps people away on its own. I’m just observant is all.”

Their conversation fades back into muted noise as Junghyun mulls over Soojin’s words. This, he thinks tiredly, this is why we need to leave. They could shed their identities, start over as omega and beta again in the city without nearly as much attention or fear of recognition. Odd pairs, strange peoples, unusual happenings…they existed quietly in the crooks and niches of cities, and Jungkook and Junghyun would meld into the amalgamation, just another two in a melting pot of thousands. The city…the city would offer protection, he thinks.

Junghyun drifts on the edge of sleep, Soojin’s papery-rough voice creeping into the corners of his consciousness.

“Be careful, alright? I can see it in your eyes sometimes, that both of you have been through something—other than living on the streets, that is. It…it reminds me of myself a bit. My sister…I had an older sister, once. Omega too. And that’s why I had to say something. Kook-ah, don’t fall asleep yet, noona’s saying something important. You have to be careful, especially in the city; there’s this group you need to be wary of, their symbol is…inscribed…”

(Junghyun wakes up the next morning with only a vague sense of unease and a whispery voice saying something urgent that floats just outside his memory’s grasp.))

A finger pokes lightly at Junghyun’s back, and he snaps out of his thoughts.

“I’m ready to go, hyung.” Jungkook shoulders his ragged backpack, and Junghyun refrains from commenting on the red rimming the younger boy’s eyes.

A tuft of fur pokes out from Jungkook’s clenched fist, catching Junghyun’s attention. “What’s that?” He asks curiously, picking up his little brother’s wrist. Jungkook uncurls his fingers, revealing a tiny rabbit plush laying on his palm. It looks handmade and well-loved, and it’s attached to a keychain loop that also contains a handwritten paper note.

Junghyun runs a finger over bunny’s fuzzy ears carefully, turning the note over to read it. Be safe, it says in small, round handwriting. “Is this from Soojin?”

Jungkook sniffs a little and holds it closer. “Yeah. Noona said her sister gave it to her when she was little, but she wants me to have it.” He doesn’t elaborate on why. “Can we go now?”

Junghyun takes one last look at the little keychain, the same uneasy feeling still rattling in his chest. He can’t shake it. Soojin’s sister…

“Please, hyung,” Jungkook says quietly, and there’s something fragile and sad in his voice that makes Junghyun ache.

Pushing away the strange apprehension, Junghyun nods and swallows. Probably overthinking it. Paranoia is all.

“Yeah, okay, let’s go.”

___

Jungkook sleeps restlessly through the entirety of the train ride, head in Junghyun’s lap and fingers curled around Soojin’s parting gift.

Weak sunlight filters through the clouds, casting the train car in alternating periods of shadow and brightness. Junghyun watches through the window as the trees gradually morph into buildings and cityscape, one hand stroking rhythmically through honey brown locks.

The train rattles over a particularly rough bump, and Jungkook groans, eyes fluttering open.

“Shh, it’s nothing. You can go back to sleep,” Junghyun murmurs, cupping Jungkook’s face in his hand. When did his chin get so sharp, his cheeks so hollow?

“Mmm. Okay.” Jungkook tilts his cheek into Junghyun’s palm, pressing into the warmth. He falls back into a light doze, fingers twitching every so often.

Junghyun’s stomach rumbles, and he sighs, plucking at the loose fabric of his shirt.

They’ve still got a ways to go.

___

Nothing goes right.

As soon as they enter the city, it’s like being swept up into a hurricane; like two leaves in a violent storm, they seem to be simply pulled along helplessly by the chaos.

Employment doesn’t come as easy as Junghyun expects, and as days pass, he begins to realize how naïve his hope had been.

“Are you currently hiring?” Junghyun asks the store manager. It’s a chain restaurant, one that accepts even those without prior work experience, but to no avail.

“Sorry,” the manager replies, not looking sorry at all. He scowls, looking more harried and pissed off than anything else. “Didn’t see a hiring sign when you came in, right? We ain’t hiring right now.”

And it goes like that for all the entry-level jobs they seek out. They get the same spiel over and over again: sorry, we don’t need any more employees, better luck elsewhere. Unemployment is so rampant that competition for securing jobs is virtually a bloodbath, one to which they have arrived far too late to win.

But worst of all, even shelters turn them away.

“What do you mean we can’t stay?” Junghyun clutches at Jungkook’s hand a little tighter, something bleak in his chest.

The volunteer looks a bit regretful, pity flashing in his eyes. He’s wearing a single pendant in his left ear, a small silver earring with some kind of symbol on it, Junghyun notices. Beta too. He smells neutral and friendly.

“I’m really sorry, I am, but there’s nothing I can do,” the volunteer says apologetically. “The shelters in the city are all overcrowded, and none of us have enough funding to expand. Right now, you can only sign up to get contacted when we have space available, and if you do happen to get lucky, the shelter can only house you for up to ninety days.”

 “What…what about omega shelters?” Jungkook inquires cautiously, ignoring Junghyun’s sharp inhale. It’s just a social worker anyway, and besides, they haven’t established any identity yet in the city. The two of them could drop their beta-alpha pair façade any day and be just fine. Junghyun worries too much.

The social worker gives Jungkook a strange, scrutinizing once-over. “Why do you ask?”

Jungkook opens his mouth—

“Asking for a friend,” Junghyun cuts in smoothly.

“Ah, I see.” The beta shifts his attention back to Junghyun, his oddly heavy demeanor melting back into his initial friendliness. “Well, I’m really sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but the omega shelters are pretty overcrowded too, even moreso than just generic mixed-status shelters. You can always try your luck though.”

Junghyun stays silent, mulling through their situation in his head. No job, no housing, barely any money left. Overcrowded shelters had not been something he had considered nor accounted for.

Jungkook squeezes around Junghyun’s clammy palms. “Hyung,” he whispers. “Do you think we can get food anywhere?”

The social worker, apparently overhearing, gives Jungkook a sympathetic look. His singular earring flashes as he turns his head. “That’s one thing we can at least help with. The soup kitchen is always open to anyone, but the lines get really long, and food runs out frequently.” He checks his watch. “It’s still early in the evening though, so if you go right now, you should be able to get ahead of most of the dinner crowd.”

Trying to muster up a weak smile, Junghyun thanks the man and tugs Jungkook along. As he turns, his eyes sweep over the man’s earring again. It’s small and understated, almost obscured by the edge of his beanie but still visible—an omega inscribed inside of an alpha, both in Greek letters.

“Nice earring,” Junghyun blurts, and the volunteer’s hand shoots to his ear. The man flushes and tugs his beanie down self-consciously.

“Thanks,” he replies with an embarrassed smile, the silver glint now out of sight. “Good luck finding what you need. Take care.”

Junghyun gives him a tight smile and clutches Jungkook’s hand just a little tighter as they walk away.

___

Things don’t seem to get better from there. Winter seeps in slowly, and then all at once, and the biting deep-freeze becomes a yet another nagging worry chasing their heels.

Their only relief is that no one seems to be looking for them here. In the mess of complicated city life, there’s always bigger news than two missing boys from a town miles and miles away. It’s been months already, anyway, and Junghyun can only guess that the Kangs have moved on—two ragtag boys shouldn’t be worth enough to waste so much time and effort on.

Perhaps they’ve even adopted another foster child, Junghyun thinks, grimacing in distaste.

Junghyun pushes open the door of the laundromat, giving the interior a quick sweep before he steps inside. Two alphas, one beta. It’s habit by now, for better or for worse, to assess his surroundings at all times.

Jungkook steps in behind him, the backpack on his shoulders full of dirty clothes a few sweaters they had picked up from clothing donation bins. Moving to the washer furthest away from the two alphas, Junghyun begins unloading his own backpack.

The beta is slumped over in a chair, hood pulled over his head as he dozes next to a whirring dryer. Junghyun casts him a brief look and dismisses his presence.

“Do we have detergent, hyung?” Jungkook asks, and Junghyun groans.

“Shoot, I completely forgot.” Junghyun digs through his pockets, frowning when he’s able to scrape together barely a handful of bills. “I thought we had more than this… we have enough for a load of laundry, but there’s not enough for those overpriced detergent packets too.”

He squints at the dingy vending machine nestled in the corner, fading tags reading a number just outside their budget.

“What about,” Jungkook starts, “what about asking them for some detergent?” He points toward the giant purple bottle sitting on the ground, right next to the two alphas. “They seem to have plenty.”

Junghyun stiffens a little, warily eyeing the two men. “I don’t know,” he hedges, uncomfortable. “They’re alphas though…” He hates the edge of fear that runs through his words, knowing rationally that status doesn’t mean everything. It doesn’t quell his instincts from flaring apprehensively though.

“Hyung, what’s the harm in asking?” Jungkook tries, voice small but resolved. “We should at least try, right? They look like reasonable people, and we’re not alone either.” He subtly gestures at the dozing beta.

Junghyun still hesitates. “Gimme a sec,” he says.

He turns back to the laundry, trying to think of what to do, but Jungkook keeps staring in their direction, eyes shifting between the detergent and the alphas. One of them suddenly looks up, seeming to feel someone watching him.

Jungkook whips his gaze away, embarrassed to have been caught staring.

“Kook-ah, we can try going back to the shelter and asking if they have any,” Junghyun suggests, starting to pull their clothing back out.

“Umm,” Jungkook fidgets, hearing heavy footsteps approaching them. A bit too late for that.

“Hey, did you guys need something? You both looked a little distressed.”

Jungkook and Junghyun both jerk around, coming face to face with one of the alphas. His hair is dyed a reddish color and swept off his forehead, his eyes sharp and face angular. The other alpha remains in his seat, observing passively as he keeps an eye on their belongings.

Discomfort bleeds onto Junghyun’s face, but he does his best to try and tamp it down. He shifts slightly in front of his little brother, a quick movement that the red-haired alpha nonetheless catches. “Ah, no thank you,” he answers politely. “It’s okay, we don’t really need anything. Sorry if we bothered—”

“I mean, we sort of need detergent if you have any to spare?” Jungkook interjects, tentatively pointing at the purple bottle.

Eyes widening, Junghyun is just about to hastily excuse his brother’s question when the alpha gives them an easy smile and laughs.

“Yeah, of course, is that what you guys were so stressed about? Should’ve just asked in the first place, we have plenty to spare.” He turns back to grab the bottle and returns, a careless slouch to his walk. “Name’s Jaebum by the way.”

He passes the detergent to Junghyun, who takes it with a grateful smile but doesn’t drop his wariness.

“Junghyun,” he introduces. “And my brother, Jungkook. Thank you so much.”

“’S nothing,” Jaebum brushes off. “We know how hard it is living in the city with limited funds.”

At Junghyun’s surprised look, Jaebum has the grace to look abashed. “Ah, sorry, Jinyoung overheard you guys talking earlier.” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder, pointing at the other alpha who is now scrolling absently through his phone. “That’s my mate, Jinyoung. We’re living paycheck to paycheck too, so we know what it’s like to need a little help now and again.” Junghyun doesn’t bother to correct his assumption that they’re waiting for payday.

“Mates?” Jungkook asks, curious.

“Yeah, kid.” Jaebum answers bluntly. “Got a problem with that? ‘Cause I couldn’t give two fucks.”

“Hey!” Junghyun snaps, eyes narrowing. “Don’t talk to him like that. And neither of us have a problem with that kind of stuff.”

Huffing out a laugh, Jaebum rocks back on his heels. “Alright, alright, chill. You’re too overprotective. And not many people are all that kind toward people like us, you know? I’ve learned not to care, so nothing personal toward you guys.”

“Hey, what’s going on here? You’re not scaring them, are you?” A hand appears on Jaebum’s shoulder, and the other alpha, Jinyoung, greets them with a smile. “Sorry, he’s socially constipated, especially around strangers.”

Jaebum scowls and hits Jinyoung on the arm, but there’s a hint of exasperated fondness in his face.

“Why do you always drag me through the mud,” he complains. “They just needed detergent.”

At that, Jungkook bows slightly, expression earnest. “Thank you for letting us borrow some, Jaebum-ssi, Jinyoung-ssi.”

Jinyoung’s gaze falls onto the younger boy, and he immediately looks endeared. “Aw, you’re cute,” he comments, “And no need to be so formal, yeah?”

At Junghyun’s disgruntled frown, Jinyoung chuckles. “Nothing weird, I promise. Kind of bigoted to assume every alpha’s a predator, isn’t it?”

Junghyun doesn’t reply. It is bigoted, but the image of stocky limbs and a hand forcing his head down gnaws at him. A bitter taste fills his mouth.

Bigoted, but better safe than sorry.

Jinyoung lowers his voice a little bit, side-eyeing the sleeping beta a couple feet from them. “And really, you guys act way too skittish around us. You should both know by now that alphas aren’t the only ones you have to watch out for, especially with the recent news going around.”

Junghyun stiffens. “What do you mean by that?”

Jaebum raises an eyebrow, incredulous. “You guys haven’t seen the reports? About twenty omegas have gone missing in the past month. You would think alphas are the aggressors, but the suspects have been a mix of men and women, alphas, betas, even omegas. Lack of patterns makes it hard to figure out, unfortunately. This is a huge case right now, how have you not heard about it?”

“We just recently came to the city,” Junghyun replies, head whirling. Omegas going missing? What the hell. “We don’t really have access to any news outlets either other than public tv’s and word of mouth. Are there…are there any patterns to the disappearances?”

Jaebum gives the two boys a once-over, seeming to take in the significance of their worn backpacks and clothes. A flicker of awareness passes over his face, and he seems to realize for the first time that perhaps the boys have even less than himself and Jinyoung. 

“Yeah,” he replies, a little more somber now. “They seem to be going after isolated omegas mostly. People that live alone, don’t have a lot of family, the like. Just victims that won’t be missed or reported until at least a couple days or weeks after the crime. Other than that, not much.”

People like us, Junghyun thinks with a shiver. Omegas like Jungkook, perhaps, if they ever found out that he was an omega.

It’s a relief that Jungkook’s still covered in the neutral security of scent-blockers, but it’s been almost three months, and his heat is due to come soon. They don’t have enough money for suppressants, so Junghyun had been hoping they could ride this one out somewhere safe. Where, he doesn’t know yet, but now it no longer seems like such a good idea.

“Enough, you’re spooking them,” Jinyoung says sternly, tugging at Jaebum’s hand. “Sorry, that got heavy really fast. Just stay safe, alright? Even if you’re not omegas, best to always watch your backs. My two sisters are both omegas, and I would never want anything to happen to them.”

The dryer on the far side of the laundromat beeps, and Jinyoung nods at them. Jaebum grabs the bottle of detergent, taking it as their cue to leave.

“Nice meeting you two. If you see us here again, don’t hesitate to ask for anything. Take care.” Jinyoung shoots them a finger salute, heading back to gather their laundry.

The two alphas tip their heads at them before exiting, and Jungkook and Junghyun sit in weighted silence, the spinning of the machine mirroring their thoughts.

“Well…good thing I still have some scent blockers left, right?” Jungkook offers weakly.

Junghyun blows out a heavy breath. “They won’t last forever though. I really need to find a job. We can’t afford more without income, and some jobs might provide suppressants if they offer health insurance.”

The washer next to theirs beeps loudly, and the sleeping beta jerks awake. He stretches with a pop and climbs to his feet, silently loading his next load of laundry.

“Oh, sorry, let me move that.” Jungkook pulls his backpack away from where it was blocking the dryer. A hand-sized white tube falls out of an unzipped pocket, a generic brand of omega scent blocker. Jungkook flushes and snatches it away, hurriedly tucking it back into his bag. Peeking up quickly, he checks to see if the beta had noticed, but the other man seems groggy and absent-minded, face obscured by his hood. Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief.

The beta yawns and continues moving his clothing. “No biggie.” He shoves a couple shirts and pants in before slamming the door and returning to his seat, hood once again draped heavily over his face and posture slouched.

Junghyun and Jungkook sit quietly after that, waiting for the dryer to finish. When it beeps, an air of soberness hangs over them as they fold, the usual joy in their routine absent.

“Let’s go,” Junghyun murmurs, pushing the door open. Back into the freezing, unforgiving streets.

They exit with a quiet jingle, and behind them, the beta’s eyes slide open.

The two brothers walk on, unaware of the sharp, predatory gaze that follows them. A few fingers reach up to rub at a small tattoo behind the beta’s ear, hidden by the hood. An omega inscribed in an alpha.

Scent blockers, huh?

“Gotcha,” he whispers.

His lips tip up in satisfaction.

___

“Please, we really need a job. Even if you don’t have openings, do you know of any place that’s hiring right now?” Junghyun pleads.

The shop owner, a graying woman, purses her lips in conflict. “I really would help if I could. You two are much too young to be out here all alone.”

They stand in the door of a small family-run grocery store, a bold ‘HIRING’ sign taped to the yellowing windows. Jungkook had pointed it out on their way back to the soup kitchen, excitedly dragging Junghyun with him. Rows and rows of fresh produce were stacked in wooden crates: crisp winter melon, leafy heads of lettuce, bundles of fresh chives, heaps of oranges and grapefruit and apples.

Jungkook admired the display wistfully. He’s tasted nothing but canned soup for days. Surely they could get some employee perks to leftover produce if they got a job here, right?

“How about this,” the lady continues. “We just hired someone new a couple days ago, but one of our employees is going on an extended leave in two weeks. We weren’t planning on hiring anyone else, but I’ll let you fill in for him in the two months he’s gone. I’m afraid we can’t offer much more than that.”

Junghyun brightens, already bowing gratefully and thanking her profusely. “No, no, that’s more than enough already! Thank you so much, you don’t know how much we needed this.”

The woman shakes her head sadly. “I can imagine.”

“I’ll come back in two weeks then?”

“Yes, two weeks, and come back anytime you need to,” she adds kindly.

Junghyun bows again, and Jungkook follows suit, a small flare of hope warming his belly. Things are looking up.

They retreat back out the door, steps light and buoyed by the news, but after only a couple steps, a soft voice interrupts them.

“Umm…excuse me?”

Junghyun pivots around, coming face to face with a young omega girl. However, her gaze is fixed on Jungkook. She’s dressed in a black, padded jacket and a green scarf, cheeks red from the cold. Soft brown bangs, shiny and carefully styled, fall over her wide eyes, and her cheeks are rounded in a way that makes her look younger at first glance.

Sixteen, seventeen? Junghyun would guess about that age, but her face makes her look like she’s twelve.

“Sorry to bother you, but I couldn’t help but overhear that you guys are looking for a job?” The statement comes out more like a question. “I’m from a modeling agency, and we’re always scouting for potential on the streets.”

She blushes lightly, fidgeting with a card in her hand. “And, um, I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but I think you could definitely model for our company. If you don’t mind, may I know your name? I’m Park Minjoon, pleased to meet you,” she says, facing Jungkook. Reaching out a glove covered hand, she offers him a creamy white business card.

Delta Studios, it reads, printed in looping font. There’s an email and phone number printed beneath it and nothing else.

“O-oh, I’m Jeon Jungkook,” Jungkook’s seems stunned, but a flattered happiness lights up his face. He reaches out to accept the card, but Junghyun impulsively knocks his hand away. The action surprises Junghyun almost as much as Jungkook, and he hardly realizes he’s done it until the girl—Minjoon—is staring at him in bewilderment.

A shudder of tangled emotions seem to flash over her face, too fast to read. Something like anger or fragmented desperation in her eyes.

Then her placid, shy and childlike visage restores itself, and Junghyun wonders if he’s seeing things. But something…something about this doesn’t sit right with him.

“Hyung?” Jungkook regards him with confusion, hand still suspended. “We need a job in between the two weeks that we’re waiting right? Wouldn’t this be perfect?”

Junghyun falters. It would be perfect, if not for the strange gut feeling that keeps blaring warning signals at him.

“I don’t know about this,” Junghyun hedges, frowning. “We don’t know anything about this agency…” It could be unsafe, he thinks darkly. Especially what with the disappearances happening now, accepting invitations from random people on the street seems like an unnecessary risk.

“Oh no, you don’t have to worry at all!” The girl reassures them kindly. “I also model for my agency from time to time, and they’re always very professional. If you’re afraid of sending him alone into all of this, you’re welcome to come along too.” She holds out the card again. “Even if nothing else, you can just hold onto this and think about it.”

Once again, Junghyun wavers. “I don’t think it’s a good idea…” But they do really need money…

Jungkook blows out a frustrated breath and snatches the card before Junghyun can block him again. “Hyung, seriously, it’s just a business card. And why would we turn down a chance like this?” He sounds almost angry now.

The omega girl looks between them nervously, taking in Jungkook’s stormy expression and Junghyun’s crinkled forehead. “Please consider it. Thank you,” she murmurs, bowing demurely before slipping away.

Seconds later, the card crumples in Jungkook’s hand, and he turns on Junghyun, furious. “You always do this!” He exclaims.

Junghyun flinches, shocked by Jungkook’s outburst. “Do what? Why are you so angry all of a sudden?”

A glossy sheen appears in Jungkook’s eyes, and he grinds his teeth together. “This! It’s not ‘all of a sudden’, and I’ve had enough! You’re always so controlling and scared, and every time I try to do something, you never let me! You treat me like a child.” The tears spill over, and Jungkook wipes at them angrily. “Why can’t you understand that I’m trying to help us get by too? I can earn money too, if you would just stop holding me back!”

Hurt sluices through Junghyun, and his mouth works silently for a moment. Is this how Jungkook had always felt?

“I’m just trying to look out for your safety though,” he whispers. “I’m trying to protect you, tokki. You’re all I have.”

Normally, Jungkook would deflate by now, unable to stay angry at Junghyun, but he only seems more incensed than ever.

“I’m not a possession! I’m not yours,” he cries. “And I get it, nothing is safe, everything is a threat, but how much of that is just in your head? Moving around shelter to shelter, and then leaving perfectly fine shelters for your plan to get to the city, you jumping in front of me if an alpha even looks my way, when you wouldn’t even let me ask for some freaking detergent—” Jungkook’s voice rises, “—you’re going too far! Can’t you see that we were better off in those shelters? I never said anything before because I trusted you, but look at where we are now! Nothing is going right, and it’s because of you!”

Jungkook dissolves into heaving sobs, and Junghyun feels his heart twist horribly, tears leaking out of his eyes too. Jungkook’s harsh words twist into Junghyun’s chest like a poisoned dagger, and he finds himself suddenly overrun by guilt and self-doubt. The buoyancy from the grocery store slides away like quicksand.

Maybe it is his fault, maybe his paranoia is twisting his perception, maybe he should have stayed with the Kangs and found a better solution to keep Jungkook healthy and safe—

Wet drops splash onto Jungkook’s jacket, and Junghyun thinks of the tepid drops of soup dripping from Jungkook’s spoon the morning they left the shelter. Thinks of how the cloudy liquid had looked like teardrops then too. Thinks of how many bottled regrets and frustrations and tears Jungkook must have pooled within himself in his blind determination to trust his brother’s judgement.

“Jungkook-ah,” his voice breaks. “Tokki, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how it would seem to you. Please, let’s just—” he opens his arms, trying to pull his little brother into a hug, but Jungkook shakes him off, blinded by anger and tears.

“No! You’re just going to say sorry, and then it’ll all go back to being the same again.” He dries his tears, face hardening. “I’m going to find that girl again, and I’m going to get this modelling job whether you like it or not.”

Jungkook whirls around, ready to run down the street, and Junghyun’s eyes widen in panic. “No! Jungkook, absolutely not. Please, please just think this over for a night. You don’t know if it’s safe.” He grabs the younger boy by the arm, but Jungkook rips his arm away.

“This is what I’m talking about!” Jungkook spits, the bubbling frustration in his chest casting a toxic taint on his words. “You’re doing it again! I hate it, I hate you.”

Junghyun’s hand falls off his sleeve, paralyzed, and Jungkook instantly regrets the heated outburst that had fallen from his lips without thought. His pride prevents him from taking it back though, and he turns his back to Junghyun so his older brother can’t see the shame that colors his face.

“I’ll find you again somehow, don’t worry about me.” Jungkook mutters, the shock of his own ruthless words clearing the haze from his head. He feels almost sickened by his own behavior, but he’s dug himself a hole already. He has to go through with it now. He’ll make Junghyun see that he can be capable too.

Jungkook is sick of depending on Junghyun for everything.

He doesn’t spare another glance back as he dashes down the street and around the corner, following the path that the omega girl had taken.

Junghyun stands frozen for a moment, overwhelmed by the turn of events.

“Wait, Jungkook-ah!” Unfreezing, Junghyun runs after the fading footsteps, but Jungkook has always been faster and more athletic than him, even as an omega. The scent blockers mask any trail of his scent that Junghyun could have followed. He makes a few turns, trying to chase the sound of footfalls, but a couple streets later, he’s completely lost sense of direction, searching wildly through the crowd for a face that’s not there.

Nothing, there’s nothing.

Junghyun’s breath comes in gasps, and he muffles a despairing sob. The horrible gut feeling that had spawned when he saw that omega girl intensifies ten-fold.

Jungkook is gone.

Chapter Text

Hello all!

It's been a long time coming, and I just first wanted to say thank you to everyone who loved and supported this fic, to all the people that gave kudos and continued to comment even though it had been years since I updated. I apologize that it's taken me this long to finally give an official update. 

To everyone who has been asking and caring, I am doing well physically and mentally! Thank you so, so much for constantly leaving kind messages for me, and I promise I've read all of them even if I did not respond to some. 

As for the future of this fic, I think I'm finally going to put down the mantle today and say it honestly: this fic will not be finished.

The reason why I kept on holding off on writing an author's note to state this was because at the beginning of this project, I had promised my readers that I would never abandon this fic. But as the months passed, I grew further away from the fandom and further away from the person I was when I started this fic. I still love BTS and the beautiful people in the fandom, but when I started this fic in high school, I was in a bad place mentally, and BTS and their music had been my lifeline to support me through depression. I wrote a lot of myself into the pain and love I tried to express through this fic. 

Now, I've been mentally stable and healthy for a good couple of years, and I'm no longer as deep in the BTS fandom as I was before. I kept holding off declaring a hiatus or deciding to abandon the fic for several reasons. The main one was that was that I felt unbearably guilty for breaking the promise that the fic would be finished, and I felt obligated to uphold a promise. The second was that I kept telling myself that I would write it, I would write it...but I got only as far as half a chapter and never picked it up again. I had no motivation, and to be honest, I felt stressed at even the idea of opening the document. Some commenters had pointed out age and consent issues that I too realized were problematic, not to mention plot holes that I had realized myself. The idea of going back through a 40-50 page doc to rewrite things stressed me even more. 

So if you're still here and reading, I just wanted to say I'm so sorry for breaking my promise. I might one day post some notes/outline of what I had planned for the rest of the story, but please do not hold any expectations for this to happen. I don't want to promise another thing without delivering again. 

Finally, I just want to say again: thank you so, so much for everyone who supported me and this fic! Especially thank you to those who kept prompting me to do right by my readers and let you guys know what's going on. I feel much lighter now. 

I hope everyone stays healthy and happy in mind and body, and take care! 

<3