Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Felix’s laugh was usually enough to breathe warm air into his lungs, enough to bask in his light like a cat stretches in the sun. It had been like that for as long as Chan could remember, from the moment they met: Felix, a young pup, scared, culture shocked, and isolated by the nature of foreign speech, and Chan himself feeling like he was stepping into his official role as protector of the sunshine boy at only 13 years old. And even to this day, just his voice could quell the flames of his anger, could anchor the waves of his upheaval. His sunshine boy. His happiness.

Usually. It was crazy how a sound that could usually inspire such joy could make him groan in horror. “Stop laughing,” he begged, fingers of his left hand at his temples, rubbing, massaging, circling the drain like his thoughts, as his right hand held the phone to his ear. “This is a very serious matter.”

“A very serious—” Felix started to mimic in a higher voice, trying to imitate Chan’s whining—in a way he found a little rude, honestly—and then laughed louder, his beaming delight echoing over the tinny edge of the phone call. “It’s…It’s not…I mean…it’s just…” Felix blubbered, trying to start a sentence and organize his thoughts, but hearty laughter kept cutting him off. He sucked in a gasping breath. “It’s just sex, Channie. We have it all the time. I’m planning a marathon of it when I get home in a week.”

Chan would not let himself get derailed by the mention of marathon sex with his true. He was brave. He was strong. “I know it’s just sex, Lixie,” he near-whined, trying not to sound like a child who giggled awkwardly over the idea of sex and still believed in cooties. “But it was also screaming. At about 2 in the morning.”

“Screaming?” Felix gasped excitedly. “Oh ho! Good for Hyunjin! And Binnie, of course, but Jinnie hasn’t gotten any in months!”

“How would you know?” Chan asked weakly. “You haven’t really spoken, right?”

“I just know,” Felix answered loftily. “Hyunjin isn’t like that. I’ll guarantee it. So the point stands: Good. For. Hyunjin.”

“Very good, as it sounded,” Chan grumbled to another rousing bout of laughter from his true. He moved his hand from massaging his temple to cushioning his chin as he sat at the round table. He hadn’t gotten much sleep, which was pretty normal for him, but especially last night.

Han stumbled into the kitchen, eyes essentially glued shut from exhaustion and the crustiness at his tear ducts from sleep. “Hhhh,” he grunted, just a soft sound that Chan was sure translated to a hello. He trudged to the coffee bar and sluggishly started the rote procedure of brewing and pouring himself a giant mug’s worth of the caffeine. 

“Morning,” Chan greeted and then told his phone, “Hannie’s awake.” He pulled his phone away from his ear in preparation for what he knew was coming.

“Morning, Hannie!” Felix yelled down the line, clearly audible to Jisung, who was across the room, staring at his filling cup with surgeon-like focus.

Chan watched Han clear his throat, swallow a few times, and then speak. “Morning, Lixie,” he garbled out in a scratchy sleep voice. He grabbed the cup after it was filled and took a long sip of the scalding liquid, walking to join Chan at the table. “Did Channie tell you about our early morning shared voyeur experience?”

“Wimps,” Felix teased loudly, and Chan just sighed, pressing the speakerphone button so his voice would project better. “A bunch of blushing virgins,” he chuckled.

Han laughed back. “Far from it, I just didn’t expect to get woken up with porn-like moans and screeching, like pterodactyl-adjacent wails, Lixie, truly impressive stuff, and to be honest—no, listen, Lixie, listen,” Han interrupted himself as he heard Felix cackling. “To be honest, I’d watch their lovemaking tutorial. A little how-to. Maybe a sing-along, we can follow-the-bouncing-ball our way through this, I just think they’re doing something right—”

“Stop! I c-can’t breathe!” Felix begged breathlessly, huffing as loud laughter crackled the audio.

“He’s not wrong,” Jeongin walked into the kitchen, stopping to kiss Han’s head of hair. He continued onto the fridge, pulling out a container of pre-cut strawberries and dropping them on the table. “They must be exhausted. Hyunjin might need tea for his throat.”

“Like Changbin was any better,” Han snorted loudly, Felix still cackling, and Chan sighed, holding his hands up, needing to get his arms around the situation.

“Okay, okay, let’s not turn this into a circus, it was just…loud. And late. But we’re not pups, we can handle our packmate having sex,” he said in what Felix lovingly dubbed his leader voice. His two boys bowed their heads a little in agreement, still shooting smirks at each other, as Felix’s chuckles calmed down over the line.

And then Seungmin walked into the kitchen, fully dressed and grinning. “So, how are we teasing Binnie Hyung about last night? Have we already decided, or is the Board still open to votes?” He sat down next to Jeongin, scooting his chair closer and dropping a lazy chin on Innie’s shoulder. He reached out and snagged a strawberry, bit it, and then spoke around his chewing. “Because I vote we start taking bets now on who screamed first.”

“Oooh!” Jeongin turned his head to face his true, fully invested, chaotic grin in place. “That’s a great point, the soundproofing dulled a lot of the early moans. I say Binnie!”

“Hyunjin,” Minho walked in, looking and sounding aged. He rubbed his face, making a direct path to the coffee and pouring his own cup. “You can put my vote in for Hyunjin.” He said again, softer, closing his eyes as he took a long sip.

“Boys, again, we can all recover from this; it was just—” Chan tried to speak over the muttering voices as the concept of a bet between them was introduced. But the muttering persisted, and Chan eventually sighed, sitting back in his chair. He picked up his phone and turned the call from speakerphone to a regular voice call, lifting it to his ear. “Felix?”

“Yes, baby?” His omega asked sweetly.

“I don’t think our pack listens to me much,” He whined a little, watching all his boys start throwing cash on the round table, Han excitedly scribing everyone’s prop bets. 

“They listen to you when it matters,” Felix returned soothingly. “But this got a bit away from you, yes.”

Chan sighed, snatching a strawberry from the container. 

The room collectively straightened and froze, turning to look at the entranceway together as the strong scent of lavender, with the now permanent accompanying sweet honey, congregated. And there Changbin was, one of the men of the breakfast hour, looking shrewd and wary, eyes darting over them all. “Morning,” he said with an upward inflection, almost turning it into a question.

Chan turned and shot them a quick, authoritative look with lips pressed together, and they all filed into line, taking seats and ushering the cash off the table with wide sweeps of arms. “Good morning,” Chan greeted, smiling and taking a big bite of the strawberry pinched between two fingers, trying to appear unfazed by the approach of the beta wolf.

It didn’t work. Somehow, it never did with Binnie. He walked closer, narrowed eyes watching him closely, then turned to the others. He huffed a big sigh and braced his hands on the table, facing them all. Almost as if he had called a meeting, he met eyes with each one. “Hyunjin will be coming out of the bathroom soon, so whatever you have to say, say it now. Please don’t embarrass him. I don’t want him to overthink it.” He bit the inside of his cheek. “So go ahead. Out with it.”

A moment of silence fell as the pack absorbed Changbin’s plea. Even the chaotic gleam in the younger members’ eyes abated at the blatant protective concern their precious beta was showing for Hyunjin. It starkly reminded them how much Changbin had grown in such a short time, just by meeting him. For a moment, they shared an appreciation for all the good things Hyunjin’s love had done for Changbin.

A moment that swiftly met its end.

“Binnie Hyung, you absolute beast—”

“I’ve got twenty on you screaming first, so if it was Hyunjin, just lie, okay, between you and me, just lie—”

“Jisungie!”

“You’re both insanely lucky that we live out in the woods, because the noise complaints that we would be getting right now—”

“Look! I’m just saying it woke me up and then I was horny, there were a lot of moving parts—”

“Alright, alright!” Changbin waved an arm, shooting a backwards glance behind him toward the stairway, and turned back. “Yes, I’m aware I’m amazing, you can all be impressed at what an incredibly skilled and unselfish lover I am any day, I am at your disposal. I am not confirming anything, and our living in the woods directly correlated to my willingness to be loud. And you can all suffer in your horniness, I exist on the other side of a door through all of your mating cycles!” He sniffed, rolling his eyes.

And that, they all unanimously agreed, was a good enough point. 

But money still changed hands under the table when Hyunjin entered the kitchen with a beaming smile, carefully chose not to sit, and sipped an herbal tea with his lavender-infused honey courting gift, eyes soft and gooey as he looked at Changbin. Because one prop bet was evident, at the very least.

And Chan wasn’t surprised when Felix sent him a screenshot text conversation between himself and Hyunjin, it appearing that the other alpha was reaching out for the first time in half a year. It was apparent to all of them that Hyunjin and Binnie were about as close as any unmated couple could be, so Hyunjin could risk reattaching himself to his first, if inferior, love. It was heartening to see the love of his life, his sunshine boy, gain something back that he’d lost, even if it was only a temporary loss and for a very good reason. 

But he choked on his spit when he saw what Felix had texted the up-to-now silent Hyunjin: 

Just wanted to congratulate you on the sex, I hear it was something to be heard. You deserve it, bro. Love that for you.

He wouldn’t be surprised if Hyunjin didn’t text him for another half a year.

Chapter Text

The penthouse’s floor-to-ceiling windows framed the gray sprawl of London, slick with rain and headlights. Beyond them, the capital city of a foreign country pulsed in its evening rhythm—double-decker buses smudged red across the streetlights, black cabs gliding through puddles.

Inside, the suite was all polished stone and velvet: a slate fireplace he would never use, a long brass bar stocked with tiny bottles of gin, and a king-sized bed framed in dark walnut with crisp white lines. The room smelled distinctly like honey and lavender, simply as a result of his removing his scent blockers before passing out in the bed. 

He had spread his gear out earlier in the sitting area—two camera bodies, three lenses, and a softbox still collapsed in its case. Now the gear sat abandoned, shoved aside on a marble-topped coffee table beside a vase of drooping lilies.

He should have been editing the day’s photos of actors on the Thames; instead, the low, compulsive tug beneath his ribs had sent him rummaging for the bag of Changbin’s clothes.

He was going to nest tonight. He had to.

The shared nest he’d had as a birthday celebration/date with Changbin had been more healing than he could have ever anticipated. He’d gone home that day and done nothing but think about it and long for it again. He just wanted to do it again. Leaving the country for a full week this time, in preparation for a large marketing campaign in England, made him ache for the soft serenity of their combined scents all around him like nothing else could. Being without Changbin’s physical presence for a week, and with no hope of closing the distance, was a fate worse than death as far as he was concerned.

Hypothetically, he could’ve just used his clothes. He didn’t need to drive to the pack’s house less than 24 hours before his flight and just about beg the beta for a small portion of his used clothes. Hyunjin’s clothes would have covered the bases of surrounding him in honey lavender. But he wanted Changbin to know he was doing this. He wanted Changbin to see that he was going to miss him.

And he won’t deny that there was something intensely pleasing about mixing up his clothes with the clothes he identified as Changbin’s. Pulling a sweatshirt out of the bag and having distinct memories of his lover holding him snugly to his chest while he wore it made his homesickness abate just a little, just enough. 

There was also something incredibly anxiety-inducing about trying to do this alone for the first time. Hyunjin has never done this unassisted. 

He folded the sweatshirt he was holding into the center of the nest on the bed. That seemed like a good start?

Changbin was so calm—so unperturbed. He hadn’t cared that neither he nor Hyunjin were omegas; he’d just dumped their clothes into the same pile and started working. His hands had been steady and sure, guiding his own, their scents braided together like ribbon.

Here, alone, he had to find that steadiness for himself. He wished he had some of that confidence now.

Is that too many sweatshirts in a row? Should he, like, intersperse with pajama pants? Maybe some compression shirts, the ones so drenched in Changbin’s scent that he could smell them from feet away? Actually, those need to be spread out on all sides; he can’t have them all grouped in one area, or the ratio of the scents will be all off. And Hyunjin has a few workout shirts of his own, so he should work those in, too.

Overlap, overlap, overlap like the quilted blankets his family pack would make. Not that Hyunjin had any particular skill for the quilting part of the process, though he did work a lot of shifts with the aunties dyeing the fabrics that would be woven. He can still smell the red cabbage, turmeric, and coffee grounds in the air if he thinks back hard enough. Ha, remember when Jinwoo fell into a dyeing vat and smelled like coffee for weeks? Classic. What a memory. 

He finally settled, looking around himself. Is that…everything? He peeled open the duffel bag and saw that there were no remaining articles of clothing. He sat back and curled his arms and legs around himself, existing for a moment while entirely encased on all sides by lavender and honey. 

And then he just…melted.

There’s no other word for it. He liquefied into a sludge and then soaked into the crevices of his nest. Something primal, something that yearned for this even without his beta there to encourage him and be that safety, rumbled a soft yes.

He breathed in the nest’s emerging warmth, his heart slowing. He missed Binnie with an ache under his sternum but also felt a quiet pride in creating this refuge himself. Maybe, he thought, this is what strengthening looked like—building a home out of borrowed clothes and the memory of someone who loved him.

The hotel room had gone quiet except for the steady whisper of rain against the windows and the muted hum of city traffic far below. He lay on his side in the middle of the nest, surrounded by the soft barricade he’d built of cloth, linen, and memories. His phone vibrated once on the nightstand, the screen glowing faintly in the dim light.

Dwaekki 🐷🐰
Land safe?

Hyunjin smiled despite himself and pulled the phone into the nest. His thumbs hovered for a second over the keyboard before he answered: Landed, shot all day. Dead tired.

A few seconds later, his phone buzzed again.

Dwaekki 🐷🐰
You sound beat. Nesting yet?

Hyunjin flushed in pleasure, knowing no one could see him being horribly whipped. His boy just knew him so well.

Yeah. First time without you. Feels weird.

I figured. Remember to breathe slow. Layers on the outside, softest fabrics near you.

Hyunjin let out a shaky breath, thumbs tapping away. Already did. Brought your fav sweater. Smells like you.

That’s the point, yeobo ♥️
Wish I could be there to tuck you in properly 😘

Same. London’s grey. Miss your voice.

Three little dots blinked for a while. Instead of a reply, a voice note appeared.

Gasping, Hyunjin excitedly tapped on it, lifting it to his ear.

Binnie’s voice came through warm and steady, like his favorite song playing in another room. “Hi, baby,” he mused, stretching the “hi” into a multi-syllabic song. “I know you’re tired. I wish I was there to press my nose to your neck and tell you it’s okay. You’re doing great. Just breathe slow and let the nest hold you. Picture my hands in your hair. I’ll call you before your shoot tomorrow, and no, I don’t care what time it will be for me. Sleep well, my muse,” he cooed, and then a resounding lip smack hit the receiver as if Changbin had literally kissed his phone.

Changbin had definitely just kissed his phone, hadn’t he?

Hyunjin’s chest went tight. He replayed the message twice, eyes squeezed shut, letting the sound of Binnie’s voice settle his rattled instincts. Then he typed back: …that helped. A lot.

The reply was instantaneous, his beta just waiting to answer. Good. Now sleep. Meet you in my dreams tonight!

And you in mine.

Hyunjin set the phone down beside his pillow, the faint buzz of Changbin’s words still humming against his palm. Around him, the nest thrummed with honey and lavender on all sides, all angles. It wasn’t the same as having Binnie next to him, but for tonight…for now…it was everything.