Chapter Text
When they were trainees — filmed day and night, no matter if their state was too vulnerable or not, inherently making any content filmed hard for viewers to watch once released — Jake’s retaliation mechanism would be biting. Because he was seventeen years old, and his Korean was broken and bad, and his only friend was Kim Sunoo.
Well, his only friend was Kim Sunoo until it wasn’t. He met Sunghoon, who he couldn’t leave alone during the remainder of their hellish journey towards their debut. And he met Heeseung, who he had the tiniest crush on for the first two months after being holed up with him. And so on, and so forth, with numerous other names.
Now, after all those hardships, Jake is plentiful with friends.
Park Jongseong isn’t a friend. He’s a thorn in his side and a worm in his brain and a wig in his ear and a foe and a fake.
Jake never believes anything that comes out of Jay’s mouth because they’re all contradictions: ironically, he’s the only one who has a problem with any of this. Jay’s longest friends — Heeseung and Sunghoon alike — never bat an eye. Jay is an angel to them, walking with wings sprouting from his back, heavenly and perfect.
Except, they’ve never told Jake that they think Jay is perfect. In fact, no one has ever told Jake that to his face, and yet every time he sees Jay share a laugh with Heeseung, or watch him bicker half-heartedly with Sunghoon, he can’t help but think that they think Jay is perfect.
It doesn’t come to a head as soon as it should. Jake feels this way up until they’re supposed to release their first studio album.
He’s fooling around with Sunghoon on the beach, Heeseung and Jungwon keeping Riki entertained near where the waves are lapping at the shore, and Sunoo and Jay are talking by themselves not too far away. Jake likes the concept they have going this time, and while the album is set to be released in the fall, filming is taking place during hot, beautiful summertime.
“He’s staring at you again,” Sunghoon notes, his voice practically a whisper. Jake can still hear him though, because they’re laying on the sand, facing each other. It’s a time of day where the warmth of the beaming sun is comfortable on his skin.
“Leave him alone,” Jake hums, closing his eyes and relishing in the moment. “Let him do what he wants.”
“How does it feel being someone’s romantic awakening?” Sunghoon teases, but Jake knows he’s also genuinely curious. It’s not everyday you’re someone’s first, real crush. “He’s smitten, Jakey.”
Riki has been following Jake around like a baby duckling for the past six months. He’s young, unpresented, and he’s always been affectionate with his hyungs, but everyone — and Jake truly means everyone — has noticed that Riki doesn’t treat him the way he treats everyone else. At least, not anymore.
Jake doesn’t think anything of it because he’s the only presented omega in the group: Heeseung has been a presented beta since he’s met the boys, Jay had presented as an alpha earlier this year, and Jake had presented as an omega right as they were preparing to debut (it was hellish). Sunghoon is annoying and had presented as an alpha, effectively outshining Riki’s first birthday celebration with the group. Jake consoles Riki by telling him that his presentation will overshadow Sunghoon’s birthday.
They’ve always been close, but now even more so upon Riki’s insistence and his desire to hang out together during practically any and all free time. No one says anything about it though: it’s an open secret. Unless you’re Sunghoon, apparently, and went to inquire about new developments despite knowing that there aren’t any.
“There’s sand everywhere and you wanna talk about Riki?” Jake asks, deadpan. He knows how to get Sunghoon to purse his lips in annoyance, which is what he does just now.
“You can never just have a normal conversation,” Sunghoon tuts, disappointed. He lays flat on his back, tossing the football prop they’re filming with, and catching it when it comes back down.
“I am the more normal one between us,” Jake scrunches his nose. He’s about to say something about how Sunghoon is the last person to critique what a normal conversation is, but he’s interrupted before he can.
“Sunghoon, go long!”
Ears perking up like a puppy’s — because that’s what he is, no matter if Sunghoon tries to deny it or not — Sunghoon immediately pulls himself up and throws the football towards where Jay had called for it, standing in a position ready to catch it.
And because he’s annoying and American, Jay catches the football perfectly. He grins as he does so, and coupled with his sunglasses, Jake thinks that Jay looks obnoxious.
If he were a worse person, Jake could kill him. As it stands, however, all he wants to do is ram him into the beachy sand.
“Something you wanna share?” Jake follows the sound of Sunghoon’s voice, just to find that his best friend is peering down at him with the most judgemental look Jake has faced in weeks.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Jake spits. He petulantly rips his eyes off of Sunghoon, and pulls himself up into a sitting position. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You don’t have to do anything,” Sunghoon shakes his head. “You’re trying to kill him with your eyes.” I can smell it, goes without saying. Sunghoon can smell Jake so eerily well: it’s either because Jake’s inhibitions are lowered when he’s with Sunghoon, or because they’re real soulmates or something equally as ridiculous like that.
But his statement is also untrue. He’s not even looking at Jay anymore — he isn’t looking at anyone.
“Is the break almost over?” he asks instead, hauling himself up to his feet now. There really is sand everywhere. Jake cannot wait to shower later tonight.
“Oh, and now you’re changing the topic.”
“Sunghoon—”
Jay’s voice isn’t what cuts Jake off this time. In fact, it’s Jay’s terrible throw, resulting in the football smacking Jake right in the chest. He feels like the air has been knocked out of him.
Of course not even being American can salvage Jay’s terrible skills when it comes to sports.
“Shit,” Jay says, approaching Jake with a furrow between his perfectly sculpted eyebrows. They all went to the salon a couple days ago. “My bad, dude. Are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” Jake spits.
“Yes,” Jay answers immediately, now arching one of those perfectly sculpted eyebrows. “Did it hurt?”
“Is it going to hurt when I kill you?” Jake seethes, ignoring the question in favour of running where his chest had borne the impact. “You’re so annoying.”
“I’m literally apologizing right now,” Jay balks, clearly unsure what to make of Jake’s reaction. “And I’m being serious, dude. Did it hurt? Do you need ice?”
“You don’t have that kind of arm on you, Jongseong,” he snarks, because he might just be an awful person, and it might just kill him to say something nice to Jay to his face. “Just watch where you’re throwing next time.”
“I’m sorry,” Jay apologizes once more. He sounds resigned. The thing about Jay is that he doesn’t do anything half heartedly: if he’s apologizing, it’s because he means it. And Jake knows that, despite everything else he knows and thinks about Jay.
“It’s okay,” he sighs. Because that’s another thing about Jake that’s a byproduct of being something about Jay: he too, like the rest of them, thinks Jay is perfect. He too thinks Jay is an angel.
It’s the most infuriating thing ever.
“Jake.” Jake knows that it’s definitely past the time he’s supposed to be awake, since he can vaguely hear the sounds of the others beyond the threshold of their bedroom. “You were supposed to be up an hour ago.”
Jake groans, the prospect of waking up actually painful. It is a day off, one of their rare, far and few in between days off before they begin for the comeback. And it’s not even a real and full day off: it’s a half day, and they have practice later this evening.
“You need to eat something,” Jay says. The only reason Jake knows it’s him is because he’s now lucid enough to put a name to the voice. This also means he’s more awake than he’d like to be. “There’s soup that Sunoo ordered from—”
“I want to sleep,” Jake cuts him off, shaking his head and burrowing himself under the blanket as best he can. “Leave me alone.”
“I can’t leave you alone,” Jay clicks his tongue. “I need to feed you because we’re leaving in three hours and you haven’t even brushed your teeth.”
Jake has gotten on stage under worse conditions — going to the practice room without showering is going to be perfectly fine.
He doesn’t dignify Jay with an answer, and instead curls deeper into his blanket. It smells like the detergent Jay uses because he’s the one who washes their beddings because Jake always forgets.
It also kind of smells like Jay. Or maybe that’s just because Jake is used to being in their shared room, and everything smells like Jay because Jay’s smell is the more potent one out of the two of them.
“Jake,” Jay warns, and Jake can do nothing but whine about the steadily approaching prospect of being ripped out of bed. “Sim Jaeyun.”
Jake hates him. He hates Jay.
“Heeseung hyung!” Jake yells instead of doing, quite literally, anything else. Jay’s eyes widen at the sudden outburst, clearly unaware of where Jake is going with this. Typical. “Heeseungie hyung!”
Something clatters to the floor in the distance — likely the sound of Heeseung haphazardly dropping the switch that was in his hands, as he was probably playing a game with Riki in the living room — and the sound of footsteps follows. Before either of them knew it, Heeseung is peering his head into the threshold of their bedroom.
“Yes?” he asks, meek, because if there’s one thing that every member has learned since Jay and Jake have begun sharing a room, it’s to tread their shared territory carefully .
Having a presented alpha and a presented omega share a bedroom had been a gamble in the first place, but Jake had assured the members and managers that it was fine, that he doesn’t see Jay as an alpha. And while Jay hadn’t said the same thing about him, it had been heavily implied that he’s not worried about sharing a room with an omega like Jake.
Not that Jay explicitly said anything like that with his own mouth and words. Jake could potentially be projecting onto his roommate. It’s something he doesn’t think about, for obvious reasons.
“I wanna be alone,” Jake mumbles, trying his best to sound pitiful because stupid omega manipulation shit like that works on Heeseung. He’s a traditionalist to his core, and Jake is no better than using it to his advantage. “Take Jay away.”
“Yah, you can’t just—”
“Jongseong, leave him alone,” Heeseung chastises, because he’s always on Jake’s side — always on an omega's side. “He can sleep for another hour or something.”
“But hyung,” Jay whines, something that is only ever reserved for Heeseung. Something about being best friends, knowing each other the longest. Jake isn’t jealous and anything even remotely close to that, but the animalistic part of brain reminds him that while Heeseung might have known Jay the longest, he’s lived in close proximity to Jay the longest.
Not that it means anything, of course.
“Come on,” Heeseung urges, and through his still closed eyes, Jake listens to the two of them leave his room, closing the door behind them too.
Finally, he’s alone to relish in the warmth of his bed and the remnant scent of Jay that lingers in the room in peace. For at least another hour (though, Heeseung might buy him an extra twenty minutes, too).
It’s Jake’s birthday, and he’s officially spent one year as an idol, and an omega. Well, in five days’ time, but whatever. The difference is the same to him.
He spends it the way he did last year, not in the sense that he’s filming on set, but that he’s working. They’re learning choreography for one of the award shows they’ll be showing face at, but it shushed between recording for their repacking album that will drop at the beginning of the new year.
Jake had lamented to accept the fact that his birthday falls during the busiest preparation times of the year for an idol. Not that Sunghoon and Riki have it any better. And actually, they might have it worse.
Anyways. Jake is scrolling through fans’ reactions to Heeseung’s birthday post for him, the glaring ‘my jake!!!’ making his throat feel a little funny.
He’s never thought about Heeseung in any sort of particular way, just that he was handsome and had a really nice singing voice. Jake liked his work ethic too, but beyond that there are no thoughts like that which plague his mind.
Which is why he’s having a really hard time understanding why he’s reacting this way to two simple words. And one of those words is his name. Especially when he should be focused on memorizing choreography, even during their short ten minute break.
“Happy birthday,” Jungwon says, plopping himself down next to Jake. He offers a water bottle, and while it’s not a gift, Jake treats it like one with the way he gratefully guzzles it down. “I want to buy you dinner.”
“Thank you, Wonnie,” Jake hums after emptying the water bottle. “Do we even have time for that tonight?"
“Of course,” Jungwon chirps, as if it was obvious that he’d make time for this. Jungwon is seventeen years old, but Jake supposes he knows better than to put these kinds of things past him. “Just us. Because everyone else is annoying.”
“Hm,” Jake snorts, nodding his head to show that he’s okay with the plan. Spending time some with Jungwon is always nice, and Jake knows that he needs it after tossing and turning around Heeseung’s birthday post’s caption in his head nonstop. “Okay.”
Jake also has a feeling that Jungwon wants to talk about more personal things, what with his presentation following soon after the new year. He’s noticed that Jungwon has had private conversations with Heeseung and Jay lately — and he’s probably waiting for Sunghoon’s birthday to have that conversation with him, too.
Jake runs a hand through his hair, about to ask Jungwon where they’ll be eating tonight, before someone sitting themselves down next to him interrupts his train of thought.
“He’s staring, Jake,” Sunghoon hisses in his ear, jerking his head towards Riki not-so-subtly. “He got you a present, you know.”
“Sunghoon, please,” Jake sighs, smacking his best friend lightly on the shoulder. “Stop spying on him like a creep.”
What Jake wants to say is that none of them have any jurisdiction over how and what Riki feels, even if it is for one of them. Jake has done his part to act oblivious of Riki’s alleged feelings, and continues to treat him normally. The least Sunghoon can do is the same. Riki will come to whatever conclusion he’s seeking on his own, and Sunghoon reporting his every move to Jake won’t be helping with that.
“I’m just saying,” Sunghoon defends himself. Thankfully though, maybe because he’s adhering to Jake’s wishes as the birthday boy, he doesn’t push it. “When is your live scheduled?”
Because that’s another thing: birthday livestreams. Jake hasn’t done one yet with the way his birthday fell last year in accordance to their debut, but he has one scheduled for tonight after their practice.
“I have forty minutes to get ready after practice,” Jake answers. He flops his limbs and loosens his body, feeling the exhaustion settle into his bones. It’ll be a long night — he’s looking forward to getting dinner provided by Jungwon at the end of it. “Jungwonnie, I want—”
“You want nothing,” Jay frowns, inserting himself into the conversation. He’s been doing that a lot since he presented as an alpha, though Jake doesn’t know if Jay even believes in that all traditional alpha bullshit. “You and I made plans weeks ago for your birthday, remember?”
Jake blinks. He doesn’t quite remember this, but he also doesn’t think it’s necessarily his fault, since this time of the year is swamped with pre-recording content for the holidays, for new years, and practice for the end of year award shows.
Jay seems to be able to read on Jake’s face that he doesn’t remember making plans, since his lips are pursed and he crosses his arms over his chest. Over the past year and a half that he’s known Jay, he knows how to tell when Jay is actually mad at him, versus when he’s pondering how he’s feeling. Since they get on each others’ nerves more often than they don’t.
“Come here,” is all he says, leaning forward and grabbing Jake’s hand. Jake is baffled to the point where he can’t find it in himself to fight Jay off when he pulls Jake up onto his feet. “Stop being ridiculous.”
“I’m not—” Jake scoffs, cutting himself off. It’s his birthday — what does Jay think he’s doing? “Yah. what are you doing?"
“Asking you a question,” Jay says. Except he hasn’t asked a question yet, but before Jake can point that out, Jay is already continuing to speak. “Do you have a crush on Heeseung hyung? It’s really fucking obvious, by the way.” What’s the point of asking a question if Jay didn’t even give him the time to answer it?
“I do not,” Jake denies, even if his throat itches just at the thought. He hasn’t— “I haven’t had a crush on him since i-land,” he adds, maybe because he thinks Jay needs to hear that before properly believing him.
“Right,” Jay scoffs, and it’s only then that he lets go of Jake’s hand.
“You don’t believe me,” Jake points out with a frown. Then he realizes that he says, scowls, and doubles down. “It’s my birthday. Be nice to me.”
“I’m always nice to you,” Jay rolls his eyes. Nevermind the fact that Jake doesn’t think that’s the truth, Jay nudges his head in Riki’s general direction.
But Jake doesn’t let him get a word out, this time.
“Don’t,” he warns, narrowing his eyes sharply. “Leave him alone, Jay-ah.”
Jay purses his lips together, and it’s all Jake needs to see to know he was right that Jay was going to say something about Riki.
“I just wanted to say that you should figure out whatever your feelings are for hyung before our maknae does anything stupid,” Jay finally explains. “He hasn’t even presented yet, Jake.”
“I don’t feel anything for hyung,” Jake insists, and to prove his point, he pushes a finger into the center of Jay’s chest. “And our maknae is not stupid. We’ve all done dumb things when we had crushes.”
Jake would know: he bawled his eyes out in Sunghoon’s bed one night during i-land filming when he was convinced he wasn’t going to debut with him or Heeseung. Not that Jay needs to know that — Jake’s crush spawned and died during that tumultuous period.
“Sure,” Jay agrees dryly. He looks between Jake and where he had dragged Jake away from. The other guys have already occupied themselves with each other. “Tell Jungwon you’re busy with me tonight.”
“You know, I don’t remember making these plans with you,” Jake grumbles, his fingers still lodged against Jay’s sternum. He puts a little more pressure behind his poke as he hisses, “and Jungwonie was gonna pay for my dinner.”
“And you think I won’t?” Jay snorts, batting Jake’s hand away. “I’m the one who first asked for you on your birthday. First come, first served,” he raises an eyebrow, as if dating Jake to challenge him.
“Fine,” Jake begrudgingly accepts, shooting Jay a nasty glare before turning around, not looking forward to delivering the change in plans to Jungwon. “You better break the bank tonight, Jongseong.”
“Was already planning on it,” he snarks at Jake’s retreating back.
True to his own philosophy, Jake doesn’t do anything about Riki’s crush on him. It doesn’t matter that Riki’s birthday passes, that the new year passes, and that Valentine’s Day comes and goes: Riki is a normal, a teenager, and therefore doesn’t do anything — quote-unquote — stupid despite nearing closer and closer to the day he’ll present.
All is well. He still lives in a room with Jay. Sometimes when Heeseung talks to him — in the way he does when he’s standing too close and leans far too close to him — his throat still itches.
But regardless, all is well.
Until it’s not.
It’s their first night in Germany — the night before they’re meant to perform in front of a live, interactive audience for the first time in their careers — and Jungwon is trying to make Jay and Jake share a hotel room.
“Jungwon-ah,” Jake begins, not proud of how whiny he comes off as he pleads his case, “I already have to live with Jay in Korea. Are you really not going to give me a break from him?”
“Yah, don’t make me sound like a disease,” Jay elbows him for his words, but Jake only glares at him and spits out that he practically is a disease.
“We played rock, paper, scissors, stop bitching and moaning,” Sunghoon snickers. And the asshole would — he got a single room out of playing rock, paper, scissors. “It’s two nights, Jake. Play nice.”
Jake always plays nice. There’s just something about Jay that makes him itch to not play nice. And maybe, maybe it was something to do with the fact that Riki and Heeseung ended up in a shared room together, and now the itch that had been dormant in Jake’s throat had expanded to an uncomfortable feeling in his chest.
Something in the back of his mind tells him that Riki and Heeseung should not be sharing a room.
And something else — Jay’s grating voice right behind him — tells everyone that Jake and Heeseung should not be sharing a room. Just, not in those exact words.
“If Jake is going to be so difficult, then I can switch with Riki,” he offers. Because he’s diplomatic, and is an angel, and acts like he’s going to die if no one likes him. Or maybe Jake is just being dramatic. “Jake can hold a grudge, remember?”
“You spoil him,” Sunghoon scowls when Jungwon waves a dismissive hand, clearly having given up and letting them do whatever they want. He accuses Jay some more with, “it’s not going to make him like you any better, you know.”
“Jake likes me plenty as it is,” Jay says dryly. Then he goes up to Riki and swaps their room keys.
“Hyung,” Riki blinks at Jake, tentatively approaching him while fiddling with his newly acquired room key. “Are you okay sharing a room with me?”
You probably have a crush on Heeseung, goes unsaid, because no one in this group even knows how to tread around the fact that Jake has insisted that his old feelings were squashed. And it’s not like Heeseung is the one feeding these rumours — as far as Jake knows, it’s not like the beta has a crush on him either.
“Of course it’s fine, Riki-yah, don’t be silly,” Jake reassures, grabbing onto Riki’s jacket and walking them to their room so that he doesn’t have to be put under Jay’s scrutinizing gaze for any longer. “I’m tired.”
“Me too,” Riki says meekly next to him. He doesn’t try to remove the grip Jake has on his jacket, and keys the older drag them to their room.
The first night goes fine. Rooming with Riki is not any different from rooming with Jay, and Jake didn’t think it would be. Even if Riki has a way too obvious crush on him, which everyone has been ignoring for the maknae’s sake.
But then it’s the night before their flight, and Riki is standing in the threshold of their hotel room, not stepping inside.
“What’s wrong?” Jake asks, eyebrows furrowed as he looks at Riki’s frozen state over his shoulder. Riki doesn’t immediately answer, and it’s enough to prompt Jake to turn to face him properly. “Are you okay?”
“I think maybe Jungwon hyung was right,” Riki says quietly. So quiet that Jake can barely hear him.
“About what?” Jake prompts.
“You should’ve stayed with Jay hyung,” he blurts out, rapidly. Jake barely knows what he’s saying. “Jake hyung, you—I can’t be around your scent tonight.”
“My scent?” Jake scoffs, not finding it in himself to not be offended by this line of conversation. “What’s wrong with my scent?”
“There’s nothing wrong with it, and that’s the problem,” Riki groans. His hands are holding onto the doorframe, his knuckles almost white, and Jake — Jake doesn’t know what he’s doing. He doesn’t know what any of this means. And most of all, he doesn’t know what he should be doing now. “You smell really good, hyung.”
Jake’s jaw drops. He doesn’t — he knows what he smells like, yes, but no one has had a reaction like this to his scent. Not Jay when Jake presented, not Sunghoon when he presented, and not Sunoo or Jungwon when they presented.
But Riki… it was maybe always going to be different with Riki even if he hasn’t presented yet, because none of the other guys were harbouring feelings for him.
“Thank you,” Jake says nonsensically, because he’s not too sure where he’s supposed to go from here. But he tells himself that he needs to figure it out, because he’s the hyung, and Riki is his responsibility. “I need you to go get Jay, Riki.” Because while a part of Jake wanted to say Heeseung, he knows that Jay would have his head if Riki went to their room to retrieve the eldest instead of him. Not that Jake even really cares but Jay thinks, but…
One second Riki is standing in the threshold of their hotel room, and the next, Jay is walking into the room. Despite Riki having all his things scattered here, Jay’s scent is still familiar and identifiable amongst it all.
“Jay-ah,” Jake says before he can tell himself not to be pathetic in front of the other. “I don’t—”
“It’s okay,” Jay says evenly, closing the door behind him and walking further into the room. It forces Jake to take a few steps back until the back of his knees knock into a bed and he’s forced to sit down. “Nothing happened, Jake.”
“But it could’ve,” Jake stresses, not even knowing why he’s stressed. He shouldn’t — he didn’t do anything. He didn’t do anything wrong, or anything right, he didn’t do anything. “I didn’t—you never say anything about my scent. You should’ve told me that—”
“There’s nothing wrong with your scent,” Jay dismisses, leaning back against the desk in the room. He takes a look around, as if scrutinizing the state Riki left his side of the room in.
“Clearly there’s something wrong!” Jake argues, his voice pitching a bit higher with his distress levels rising. He’s not even meaning for them to, it’s just that— “If there wasn’t, then Riki wouldn’t have—”
“Jake,” Jay calls, his voice stern and scathing, and something he only ever uses with the maknaes. “He’s practically in love with you, of course he’s reacting this way to living in your scent. Stop freaking out over nothing.”
Jake miserably plops his head into his hands. He’s allowed to be upset over making Riki react this way, no matter how small of a reaction it actually was: Riki is his maknae — he doesn’t want to never be able to be in a space alone with him, or make him feel like he needs to run away lest something happens.
“Would it kill you to be nice to me?” Jake sniffs, looking at Jake accusingly from between the gaps of his fingers. “You do not like me, Jay.”
“I’m not going to pity you,” Jay says haughtily, striding up to Jake and pushing his shoulder: not gently, but not harshly either. “You didn’t do anything. Stop wallowing.”
“Don’t touch me,” Jake snarks, going off of instinct when he snaps his head to the side and tries to bite Jay’s fingers off. But Jay has instincts too, and he snatches his hand back before Jake can get anything between his teeth.
“You’re not a pup anymore,” Jay grimaces. “I thought you grew out of teething months ago.”
Jake makes a sound in the back of his throat, something like a growl of sorts that he’s not proud of. But Jay doesn’t pay it any mind, and instead begins picking up Riki’s loose items and piling them into his suitcase. He folds the clothes nicely and takes care with Riki’s shoes, knowing how important the items are to the younger.
“Why don’t you react to my scent?” Jake eventually asks when Jay has cleaned up the other half of the room nicely. Riki’s things are neatly packed into the suitcase that he wheels by the door. “Jay-ah. Be honest. Can you even smell me?”
“Of course I can smell you,” Jay rolls his eyes. Unlike what Jake thought he would do, Jay takes a seat next to him instead of Riki’s bed. Well, what was Riki’s bed for only one night. “I don’t react because I’m used to it, I think. I lived with you even before you presented. You’re not even an omega to me. Maybe you never were,” he shrugs.
Whatever that even means. Jake supposes he might get it, though — Jay is not an alpha to him anymore, either. Jake doesn’t know what he is: roommate, bandmate, friend, idiot, asshole—
Jake deems it wisest to keep his mouth shut, so that’s what he does. He lets Jay meander around the room, doing whatever it is he usually does before falling asleep. All Jake does is shut himself away under the blankets and hide from the eyes he knows Jay is giving him.
The motions over the next year pass in the same way: they get busier, Riki gets clingier, Jay gets even more on his nerves, and Jake doesn’t feel itchy anywhere anymore when he touches Heeseung.
They’ve retired for the night, and Jake doesn’t live with Jay anymore: they moved dorms, and he doesn’t even live on the same floor as Jay.
It had been liberating, for the first few weeks. But then Jake had quickly become annoyed with the lack of anything in his room. And it didn’t help that Jay seemed to be acclimatizing much better than Jake. He had already decorated his room, customized his space, as if he was waiting for the day he’d be able to leave Jake.
It’s hypocritical of Jake to let his temper flare because of that. Nonetheless, he lets it happen. But tonight, it’s particularly bad, and Jake is so agitated out of his skin about the fact that he’s alone in his room that he stomps all the way down one floor until he’s punching in the code to the apartment — because both floors had shared their respective codes with each other — and knocks urgently on Jay’s door.
“Jake?” Sunghoon calls, no doubt having heard the commotion he made on his way in. “What are you—”
“What do you want?” Jay grunts the second he opens the door, halting Jake mid-knock. Jake doesn’t answer. He just boulders his way into Jay’s bedroom, ignoring Sunghoon’s confused sounds that get muted when Jay shuts the door behind Jake. “It’s late—”
“Let me sleep here,” Jake blurts out, standing in the middle of Jay’s room with his arms crossed. He has no jurisdiction to do any of this — but what makes him ballsy is knowing that he’s up against Jay, right now.
“Go to your own room, Jake,” Jay sighs, like he is already exhausted from the handful of words they’ve exchanged. They haven’t even had a conversation yet.
“I don’t want to,” Jake shakes his head, petulant. Jay takes a step closer to him, and Jake takes a step back — again, as if he has any jurisdiction to do so. “You can’t make me.”
It’s true. Jay can’t make him do anything. The same way Jake can’t make Jay let him sleep here. But he can try his hardest, and that’s what he does best: push Jay to his limits so that they can hash out how much they actually like each other at least once a month.
Jay rolls his eyes, and he looks like he’s going to say something. But he seems to stop himself, levelling Jake with a look and silently calculating him. If he were a worse better — but a better omega — he’d fidget under Jay’s scrutineering gaze. As it stands, however, he only meets the alpha’s eyes with a silent challenge.
“You can stay,” Jay grants, his words coming out slowly. So slowly, that Jake knows there’s a caveat: it has him holding his breath until Jay is finished speaking. “If you tell me why.”
Jake immediately opens his mouth. Then thinks better of what he was about to say. Does he really want Jay to know what his thought process was? In the end, he settles for a stilted version of the truth.
“It’s too quiet when I sleep,” he says, gesturing vaguely towards Jay. “You breathe loudly when you sleep.” It’s not entirely true, but what would Jay know? He can’t hear himself when he’s sleeping…
“I know you’re lying,” Jay easily calls him out, but he doesn’t make any move to kick Jake out of his room. Well, he doesn’t make any move to do so just yet. “Stay on the right side, Jake.”
Unable to help himself, Jake perks up. Jay’s implicit permission courses through him pleasantly, and he shuffles himself under Jay’s covers happily, on the right side like he’s been told to do. Once he’s settled, he notes that Jay is still looking at him like he’s calculating something.
“Are you near your heat?” he bluntly asks.
Jake blinks.
“I don’t think so, no,” he answers, watching Jay’s every move as he moves around his bedroom, getting ready for bed as well. Jake has seen Jay’s routine when they shared a room, but getting to watch Jay move around his own room is something else entirely. Or at least, that’s what Jake’s brain is telling him.
But Jake’s brain also told him to come bombard Jay and sleep in his bed because it’s too quiet in his own room, so he’s not too sure how much he can trust his brain, at the moment. Maybe one day he’ll figure out what pulled him one floor below. Until then, though, Jake will blissfully ignore it.
When Jay tells him he’s going to the bathroom to get ready for bed, Jake feels his temper irrationally rise once more, the same way it did before he made the decision to come down here. He doesn’t say anything as Jay leaves the room, just watches him do so silently, and then is left to look at the ceiling and try to reel his anger in.
He doesn’t even know why he’s angry. Which is something that has been happening a lot, lately: Jake will get angry at Jay, but for the life of him won’t be able to figure out the reason why. It used to be easy to pinpoint — Jay would push his buttons, irk him just the right way, touch him when he didn’t want to be touched, or say something stupid — and Jake would feel justified in snapping at him.
These days, however, Jake feels angry at himself for getting angry at Jay for no reason. It’s a vicious cycle that’s been repeating itself ever since they began their tour this year, and it hasn’t gone away, despite tour wrapping up and award show season rapidly creeping up on them again.
He’s startled out of staring at the ceiling when someone walks into Jay’s room, but it’s not the owner himself — Jay is able to tell based on scent that it’s Sunghoon instead.
“You’re stinking up a storm,” Sunghoon says firstly, walking around Jay’s bed and coming to kneel at the side of the bed where Jake is laying down. The second thing he says is, “What are you doing here?”
“None of your business,” Jake answers petulantly. Though, perhaps it is Sunghoon’s business, since Jake is the one apparently stinking up a storm in their apartment. “Have you never had a sleepover before?”
“The last time I shared a bed with someone was with you and we were seventeen and unpresented,” Sunghoon deadpans. Then he levels Jake with a stern look, one that Jake hasn’t been on the receiving end of since their first spat as omega-alpha best friends. “Be honest with me right now,” he demands, “just earlier today you tried to bite Jay’s hand off when he passed you water.”
“That’s because I asked Sunoo to pass me water,” Jake immediately reasons. “But then Jay had to get on his alpha high horse, and—”
“Alpha high horse,” Sunghoon cuts him off to repeat, and Jake can immediately tell that he’s being made fun of. “You think that Jay—Park Jongseong, by the way—is on an alpha high horse?”
Well. No. The honest truth is no: even Heeseung, a beta, is on more of an alpha high horse than Jay. To be quite honest, Jay’s scent and his aloof-ish nature are the biggest giveaways that he’s an alpha. But Jake could also be biased: just like how he isn’t an omega to Jay, Jay hasn’t been an alpha to him for a while, either.
“You need to stop meddling,” Jake says, evading everything Sunghoon had been talking about. “First with Riki, now with Jay—”
“What does Riki have to do with nothing?” Sunghoon splutters.
The answer is nothing. Riki is due to present this year, and his birthday is only a month and a half away. Jake has been trying not to think about it, but it’s impossible to ignore the closer they get to the date.
Riki has had an aversion to being surrounded by Jake’s scent since the first time he was in that sort of environment, over a year ago in their short stint as hotel roommates. Since then, the others have done their best to make it so that what happened then doesn’t repeat itself. They still hang out alone, of course, because Jake wouldn’t deny Riki their bonding time for anything, but it’s always with scent patches and blockers. And they usually have a manager with them if they’re outside.
No matter what Riki presents as, his scent receptors will get stronger and sharper. If he presents as an omega, he might become even clingier than he already is, which Jake has no problem with lest it doesn’t harm Riki in any way. If he presents as a beta, then things stay the way they are right now. If he presents as an alpha…
Every newly-presented alpha goes through the motions of adjusting to their new biology and instincts. Jay and Sunghoon both, respectively, had their own possessive streaks for a couple weeks before they were able to rein instincts in and keep rationality at the forefront of their mind.
It’s obvious to everyone that Riki is only territorial over a couple things: his American jersey collection, and Sim Jaeyun.
“Get out.” Jake startles, whipping his head around and watching as Jay meanders back into his room. “Bed’s not big enough for three. Maybe next time, Hoon.”
Sunghoon grimaces, and then helps himself onto his feet. He shoots Jake a look, emphasizing that their conversation is not over — and then makes his way to the door.
“Keep me out of whatever nonsense you two have going on,” Sunghoon faux-gags on his way out. At least he’s courteous enough to close the door behind him.
Jake stays silent as Jay putters around, doing the final steps of his nighttime routine before turning the lights off. Instinctually, Jake closes his eyes, and now all he can do is listen to Jay get closer, and feel the dip of the mattress as Jay slides under the covers next to him.
“Comfy?” Jay asks once he’s settled.
Jake nods his head, then realizes that Jay’s eyes might also be closed.
“Yeah,” he answers, much quieter than he meant to be. “Do you normally sleep on the left side?” Jake doesn’t know why he asks. Probably because their beds in their shared room were too small to pick a side, and Jay had been adamant on specifically telling Jake to occupy the right side of the bed tonight.
“No,” Jay answers. His voice comes out heavier, already on the cusp of sleep. He must’ve been well and truly exhausted today. “But the left side is closer to the door.”
Jake doesn’t ask why that matters, or what Jay means by that. It’s pretty fucking obvious anyway, and it makes Jake curl into the crisp sheets even more.
He’s not an omega to Jay, and Jay is not an alpha to Jake. Nonetheless, Jake can’t help but melt happily into a bed that’s completely surrounded by the scent of Jay, in a room doused with Jay’s scent, next to Jay, because Jay had decided to keep himself as a barrier between Jake and the unknown that lays beyond the bedroom door.
Everything goes to shit right before they leave for another tour.
Riki presented five months ago: he’s an alpha, he avoids Jake as best as he can, and he pretends like he’s better than being emotionally vulnerable. Which is fine, presenting is a learning curve that’s different for everyone, and Jake is not one to judge how Riki copes with the onslaught of different instincts and emotions compared to what he’s been used to for the first eighteen years of his life.
It stings a bit to be blatantly avoided, sure, but Jake knows Riki will come around. For now, he just has to let him go through this part of his life with other people: Heeseung, Sunoo, and Jungwon have been more than helpful with their maknae.
They’re practicing choreography for one of the songs they’re releasing on their EP — which is only a bit stupid to Jake, considering how the choreography will get performed once and once only.
Nonetheless, he’s here, with his hair dripping sweat onto his nape because he hasn’t cut his hair in a long time. Wearing a cap isn’t helpful either, so he shucks it off and runs his fingers through the sweat-soaked roots of his hair, just to grimace at how damp it is.
“Here,” Jay tosses him a cloth, clearly having noticed the past few moments. He then plops down next to Jake, taking his own cap off his head. “Surprised you haven’t razored all that off yourself by now,” Jay says, pointing towards his hair.
“I think it looks good,” Jake defends, despite thinking about how annoying it was not even five seconds ago.
“I never said it didn’t look good,” Jay teases.
And that’s all it takes, really. The demon Jake had been facing for the past year — getting irrationally angry with Jay for numerous unbeknownst reasons — wakes up again for the second time this month.
The instances have been far and few in between, lately, so Jake thought he was making progress. But he acknowledges that even having these feelings means that there’s something a bit deeper that he needs to confront. Not that he has time to do any of that, though.
“Fuck off,” Jake snarks, nudging Jay a bit too harshly with his shoulder. He sends Jay shuffling a few inches with a surprised sound.
“You’re so annoying,” Jay counters, shoving Jake back because it’s normal and it’s Jay and Jake and that’s what they do.
So Jake doesn’t know why he snarls in reaction to getting pushed around by Jay. He’s going off pure instinct when he instigates a petty fight with the other, and before he knows it, they’re rolling around on the practice room floor and tussling the way they used to do far too often right after debuting.
But that was four years ago, at this point, and Jake thought they both grew out of it. Apparently not, obviously, because Jay is growling and rolling around with him, clearly trying to win whatever nonsensical fight their biology is having in this sudden dick measuring contest.
It stays nonsensical for around thirty more seconds until Jay digs his hand into the back of Jake’s nape in an attempt to get him off from on top of him and keep their heads from painfully banging together. But all it does is ignite a reaction so fucking primal out of Jake that it shakes him to his core, his pupils dilating and his body moving on its own.
“Alpha,” Jake growls, and then promptly spends the next five seconds ruining both his and Jay’s lives.
His teeth sink into Jay’s neck, and the resounding panicked yelp from Jay underneath him is enough to alert the other guys in the room, who had turned a blind eye to their usual bickering-turned-wrestling.
Jake isn’t focused on anything other than the taste of Jay’s blood in his mouth and the feel of his broken skin between his teeth, but it’s short lived. He ripped off of Jay’s neck much sooner than his omega wants to be, forced to gasp as he inhales the lungful of air he’d been depriving himself while preoccupied with biting Jay.
And then, well, it hits him. He was biting Jay. He had his canines inside of Jay. He had broken skin, and now his mouth is filled with the coppery taste of Jay’s blood.
“Jake,” Heeseung gapes, holding Jay to his chest as Jungwon hovers over the alpha and assesses the damage made to Jay’s neck — his open wound which Jake’s canines are aching to get back into. He needs to seal the wound off, he needs to lap up the blood he left behind, he needs to make sure that his— “Why did you—”
“Mine!” Jake snarls when he sees Jungwon’s fingers approaching the wound on Jay’s neck. He can still feel the firm hold Jay had on his nape, and it makes something inside of him burn molten and hot. His voice is so loud that it startles everyone: all their wide eyes whip to him, including Jay, whose chest is heaving while he looks at Jake.
All eyes except for one.
“Hyung,” Riki calls from behind him, having been the person to rip him off of Jay in the first place. He has his arms around both of Jake’s from behind, restricting his movement and making it impossible for him to do anything except bare his teeth and make futile attempts to get closer to Jay.
Riki sounds part scared and part heartbroken when he asks, “What did you do?”
What did he do? It’s pretty fucking obvious what he did: he sunk his teeth into Jay’s scent gland, broke skin, opened blood, and mated his alpha.