Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The coffee was cold.

Minho crinkled his nose as he forced a mouthful down out of pure spite, and made a mental note to leave a scathing review later. It was the third day in a row that the new alpha barista at his regular cafe had messed up his order, and he was certain it was personal. She hit on him, he rejected her, and he hadn’t been given a decent cup of coffee since. Alphas and their fragile egos, he thought bitterly as he set the cup down on the side table and squinted at his laptop screen.

There were hundreds of new emails in his inbox. He’d thought that by now, two years into his early retirement, there wouldn’t be such a demand; yet all the senders were eagerly awaiting a response from Lee Minho, the world-renowned obstetrician.

He didn’t take cases anymore, but that didn’t stop them from reaching out. There were many times he’d thought about deactivating his email altogether, the questions often tedious and repetitive, but then there were the rare times that they weren’t. A few months back, an alpha mother had reached out when her doctor was recommending a C-section because the pup was breech. She was terrified of surgery and Minho had called her, soothed her fears, and received an update a little over a week later that the procedure was performed without a hitch, and both she and the pup were healthy. More recently, an omega father was concerned about his doctor ignoring his elevated blood pressure and extreme swelling, and asked Minho for a second opinion. Minho had responded urgently telling him to go the emergency room and be assessed for pre-eclampsia, and sure enough, he was admitted with that diagnosis. Those were the types of inquiries that made all the other nonsense worth it.

SUBJECT: Looking for Nausea Remedies

SUBJECT: Dealing with Food Aversions

SUBJECT: Avoiding Stretch Marks

Minho gave a small sigh of annoyance, trashing all three without bothering to read them. He’d published at least a dozen articles and given countless interviews that answered those exact questions in-depth. They didn’t need a response from him, they needed to learn how to do a quick Naver search instead of wasting his time.

SUBJECT: Seeking Advice on Feral Pregnancy

He paused, cursor hovering. He wrote his dissertation on feral pregnancies. He spent four months shadowing the midwife of a rural pack, and gained enough trust during that time to assist a feral beta with their birth. He was even invited to an international conference to discuss his groundbreaking research on hormonal imbalances during pregnancy and postpartum in feral individuals. It was a speciality he hadn’t gotten to utilize often. 

He clicked on the email.

Doctor Lee Minho,

My name is Bang Chan, and I’m the alpha of a small pack of seven. Our youngest omega, Jeongin, is feral and pregnant. We’re having a difficult time finding him suitable care. He’s struggling and we don’t know what to do. It seems you’re the leading expert on feral pregnancy, and we’ll take any advice you can offer us. Please.

Thank you for your time and consideration,

Chan – Pack Identification #180325

Minho opened a new tab, pulling up the Pack Registration Database. He wouldn’t usually go searching up a pack—it felt too invasive, even if it was technically public record—but Chan had put that information there for a reason. Ferals were rare, and feral pregnancies even rarer. He was trying to prove that he was being honest and this wasn’t going to turn out to be some wild goose chase.

He copy and pasted the identification number and, sure enough, Chan’s name came right up as the pack alpha. He clicked the ‘more information’ tab, skimming through. They were listed as a rural pack, although it looked like their territory was just on the outskirts of Seoul. There were seven members documented, just as Chan had described: himself and two other alphas, Changbin and Seungmin; one beta, Jisung; three omegas, Hyunjin, Felix, and Jeongin. Next to Jeongin’s name there was a little symbol, indicating his feral status. 

Minho tipped his head back against the couch cushions. He was curious. He could feel his heart beating just a little quicker at the thought of a challenge, getting to put his expertise to use. But he’d promised himself not to take cases anymore, not after everything. His hand came to rest just to the left of his belly button, where a scar was concealed underneath his shirt. He was retired, in a new chapter of his life, slowly putting all of it behind him. 

A consultation couldn’t hurt, though. Especially not when this pack clearly needed him. This wasn’t the kind of thing he could ignore without having it weigh on his conscience. 

He started typing and hit send before he could talk himself out of it.

Bang Chan-ssi,

I’m willing to have a phone consultation to further discuss this. Call me at the number listed below at your earliest availability.

The phone rang barely ten minutes later. Minho had figured he’d hear from them at some point that evening, but he was surprised that it was so soon. He swiped his thumb across the screen, then hit the speaker button, placing the phone down on his chest. “Hello?”

“Ah, Doctor Lee? This is Bang Chan.”

“Nice to meet you,” Minho said politely. He didn’t hear anyone else in the background and no one was introducing themselves, so he cautiously asked, “Is it just you?”

Chan gave a nervous laugh. “Yes. I’m on my way home from work, and I kind of panicked when I saw that you responded. I didn’t want to keep you waiting. Thank you so much for getting back to us.”

Minho pressed his lips together. He didn’t love the idea of talking about Jeongin when he wasn’t on the call, but he supposed this was his own fault. He should have been clearer. “Is Jeongin-ssi okay with you discussing his medical information?”

“Oh! Yes, he is. Definitely. He was actually the one who asked me to reach out to you in the first place,” Chan laughed again, another nervous thing. “I’d offer to get him on the phone with us, but one of my mates sent me a message earlier and said he’s finally sleeping. I really don’t want to wake him up. Unless you need me to!”

“Don’t,” Minho said immediately. Insomnia was a common pregnancy symptom, and apparently one that Jeongin was experiencing. “It’s fine. He needs his rest. As long as he consented, you can tell me about what’s been going on.”

“Right. Well, we’re not sure exactly how far along he is, because we haven’t found a doctor who he feels comfortable having an exam with. We noticed his scent changed about two months ago though.” Chan paused for a moment, before adding, “His birth pack were nomads and didn’t believe in modern medicine, so that’s part of the problem. He’s also only ever been to the city a handful of times with us, and he hates it. I think it’s just too intense for him, you know? But that’s where all the specialists are.”

“Feral individuals have extremely heightened senses,” Minho said knowingly. “Most of them prefer quiet, rural environments.”

“That’s why we built the house where we did. It’s not as remote as he’d probably like, but it’s a good compromise since most of us commute to Seoul for work.” 

“Did you try contacting a midwife? Most of them take a traditional approach, so he might be more open to that.”

“We’ve tried four,” Chan said bluntly. “All of them were willing to make house calls, and we thought that would make it easier for him. He just runs to his nest and growls at them if they try to get too close.”

“Someone outside the pack should never approach an omega in their nest, least of all a feral one,” Minho frowned. The whole point of a nest was that it was a safe space. If a doctor showed up at his house and tried to examine him in his nest, he’d probably lash out too. The lack of common sense from those professionals was unbelievable. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I’m going to be honest, Doctor Lee. We’re desperate. He’s miserable. This isn’t–” Chan cut himself off, and Minho could hear him take a deep breath. “We didn’t plan this, so we aren’t prepared the way we probably should be. He’s not keeping anything down, he smells like he’s in constant pain, and the more we try to help, the worse it seems to get.”

Minho felt a pang of sympathy. They were in over their heads, and they clearly knew it. He didn’t have all the answers for them, but he might at least have some. “What’s he been eating?” He asked, deciding to start there. It was usually one of the easier things to resolve.

“At first we were trying his usual favorites–” a bad sign already, “but then that was upsetting his stomach so we switched to ginger ale and crackers, because that’s what all the online forums said to try.”

Minho hummed. It was an old wives tale, and though it did the trick for some people, it would never work for Jeongin. “It goes back to his naturally heightened senses. He needs bland food, he won’t be able to tolerate anything else, but he needs protein too. Rice and unseasoned meat are usually safe. There’s also nausea medications he can try, but given his history, it sounds like he’d be more open to trying the diet change first.” 

There was a pause, and then a sound that sounded suspiciously like a sniffle. Chan cleared his throat, “That makes sense. We should have thought of that.”

“It’s not your fault,” Minho said softly, even though it wasn’t really his place. It sounded like that was something Chan needed to hear, and it was the truth. “This isn’t common knowledge. You’re going through something that most people aren’t familiar with, and you’re doing the best you can.”

“Thank you,” Chan said, his voice breaking. 

“You said he’s been having pain too?” Minho prompted, and Chan cleared his throat again.

“He’s been having cramps and a lot of body aches.”

“Any bleeding?”

“No.”

“That’s good,” Minho said calmly. “The cramps are normal. If there’s ever any bleeding or the pain increases significantly, you’d probably want to take him to the hospital, but I wouldn’t worry too much about that. The body aches are more unusual. Are they all over or just in one area, like his back?”

“All over, I think?” Chan seemed unsure, and Minho made an affirmative sound.

“Regardless, body aches are usually a later stage pregnancy symptom. I’m a little concerned that it could be an early indication that he’s deficient in G-43 hormones, which isn’t unusual for someone who’s feral. It’s nothing life-threatening to him or the pup, but it doesn’t make you feel great.”

“Right. We read your article about that. It goes along with pheromones, right? Something about the body needing more because it’s not processing them the right way?”

Minho held back a laugh. It was cute that they’d tried to read one of his academic papers, but they clearly hadn’t understood it. He admired the effort. “Something like that,” he agreed. “There’s supplements he can get that might help, but I’d honestly recommend a full hormonal panel be done to make sure there’s nothing else. I think he’d benefit from routine bloodwork every month for the duration of the pregnancy and even a few months after, just to monitor things.”

“I wish I had a pen right now,” Chan mumbled, seemingly to himself. Then, a little hesitantly, he asked, “Is there any way you could email that to me? I don’t want to mess anything up when I’m explaining this to my pack.”

“Of course,” Minho said easily. “The problem you’re going to run into is getting the bloodwork done. He obviously won’t be able to go to a clinic.”

Chan sighed. “Exactly. He’s not trying to avoid the doctors or anything. He knows it’s important for him and the pup, and he wants to go. He wants to feel better. He just…” 

“He’s acting on instinct, as feral individuals do,” Minho finished as Chan trailed off. “It’s a typical, primal response to protect his pup. His body is telling him this is what he needs to do to keep them safe.”

“Why do you understand that when no other medical professionals can?” Chan asked, and it was an earnest, desperate question. “They either hear he’s feral and hang up on us, or don’t know what it means and make a mess of everything.”

Minho could feel his frustration. It was true that most professionals aren’t comfortable working with anyone labeled feral, and don’t bother learning how to properly treat them. They don’t understand that feral doesn’t mean mindless, gruesome beast; it means the individual is fueled by instinct, biologically more in touch with their wolf. They’re still people just like anyone else, deserving of basic respect. That was one of the reasons he became so passionate about better understanding them himself. 

He wasn’t sure how to actually say that without getting Chan more upset, but thankfully he was spared from needing to when he followed-up with, “Is there anyone you could recommend who actually knows what they’re doing?”

And wasn’t that the question. 

Minho thought of his old coworkers. They weren’t bad people, and they certainly tried their best, but none of them would know how to handle Jeongin. The only people he would really trust were in other countries, like Doctor Chen in Singapore, or Doctor Smith in the United States. Both were leading experts in feral obstetrics, but neither were a legitimate option given the distance. They needed someone close. Someone who could be trusted to approach things the correct way. Someone educated with hands-on experience. Someone like—

There’s no one I can recommend, I’m sorry, Minho wanted to say, but instead what came out of his mouth was, “I’m willing to try meeting with him for an in-person consultation.”

He regretted the words as soon as they were out there, but it was too late. Chan fucking sobbed, and Minho didn’t have the heart to take the offer back.

“I’m sorry,” Chan said, blubbering into the phone. He must have pulled the car over, because there was no more background noise. “I don’t mean to– this has just been so much for us, and the fact that you answered, and you’re offering this– thank you. Thank you so much.”

“It’s nothing, really,” Minho lied through his teeth. He picked up one of the throw pillows next to him and chucked it at the wall as hard as he could. It gave an unsatisfying thud and fell to the floor. “I can’t make any promises about how the meeting will go. It might not work out.”

He’d have to make sure that it didn’t, actually. He’d go out, meet the pack just this once, give them enough guidance and information to make it through the pregnancy, then run back to his apartment and never speak to them again. This wasn’t his case, and it never would be. End of story.

“It’s more than we ever expected when we reached out to you,” Chan said sincerely, sniffing. He sounded like an ugly crier. “When do you want to come out to the house?”

Never! 

“How about Saturday?” 

“That’s perfect! I’ll text you our address, and– really, Doctor Lee, you have no idea how much we appreciate this. Jeongin’s going to be so excited, you were kind of his last hope.”

Minho wanted nothing more than to slam his head into the wall and render himself unconscious in that moment. Instead he said, “I’ll see you on Saturday,” and hung up the phone as quickly as possible.

Chapter Text

On Saturday Minho found himself in the car, driving away from Seoul for once.

After the abrupt ending to his phone call with Chan, he wanted to cancel. He drafted a text and everything, using a made-up family emergency as an excuse. It was perfect. Then right before he hit send, a message from Chan came through. It was four whole paragraphs long, all dedicated to expressing his and the pack’s gratitude. It was excessive in a way that would usually make him feel that someone was just kissing his ass, but based on his conversation with Chan—and the fact that he’d cried literal tears of joy—he knew that wasn’t the case. He really was just that good of an alpha, it seemed. So he deleted the message, and just responded with a thumbs up emoji like the coward he was.

He rolled the windows down when he was a few miles outside of the city. The air was different, fresh and crisp in a way he hadn’t experienced since he was a pup visiting his grandparents out in the countryside. It made him think of skipping stones and fishing with his grandfather down by the creek, and helping his grandmother wash the laundry by hand. Simpler, happier times. 

It was only an hour and a half into the ride before the GPS was telling him to take a turn down a dirt road, which eventually turned into the pack’s driveway. There was no gate or fence, but he supposed there weren’t many people who would come bothering them out here. He parked next to two other vehicles he assumed were theirs, and allowed himself a moment to take it all in.

The house nothing like what Minho had imagined. It was a large cottage surrounded by open fields, which gave way to the forest line after a few hundred yards. There was a large front porch, bordered by two beautiful, blooming flower gardens. It looked like something he would see featured on Architectural Digest, and admittedly, he was jealous.

His apartment was nice. He lived in a luxury building, the kind with a pool, rooftop terrace, workout center, and all kinds of other amenities he never utilized. He had an incredible view of Han River, and everything was nice and modern. When he first moved in, he felt like he’d hit the lottery; suddenly he wasn't quite so satisfied anymore.

He got out of the car, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He wasn’t going to do an actual examination lest he give them the wrong impression, but he wanted to be prepared in case of an emergency. He had a blood pressure cuff, pulse oximeter, stethoscope, fetal doppler, as well as a first aid kit. Maybe he’d gone a little overboard, but this was a first for him. 

Minho only had one foot on the porch before the front door swung open. “Doctor Lee,” the man said, offering out a hand. “It’s great to meet you in person. I’m Chan, the one you spoke to on the phone.”

He was grinning ear-to-ear, and Minho was keenly aware of the fact that he had dimples. He took his hand, hoping his palm wasn’t actually as sweaty as it felt. He’d clearly spent too much time alone at home lately, if a handsome man had this much effect on him. He let go of Minho’s hand and added, “Please, come inside.”

Minho stepped forward, toeing his shoes off at the doorway. Their pack scent was strong, but not unpleasant or overwhelming the way so many could be. It smelled a bit like a bakery—he picked up on notes of citrus, vanilla, honey, and cinnamon, but there was more there too. The cohesiveness was a beautiful thing, and a great sign that their pack bonds were healthy. 

“Is this him?” Someone asked from the steps a few feet away. He had full cheeks and was toying with a fidget spinner.

“This is Doctor Lee,” Chan confirmed. “Doctor Lee, this is Jisung. Can you tell the others to come downstairs? Even Jeongin if he’s up for it.”

He directed that last part to Jisung, who nodded as he pushed himself onto his feet. As he did, Minho said softly, “There’s no pressure. Really. If he’s too anxious, don’t worry about it.”

Jisung gave a mock salute before disappearing up the steps. In the meantime Chan nodded toward the living room. “We can wait for everyone in there. Is there anything I can get you? Water? Tea? Coffee? I think we even have some apple juice.”

Minho’s lips quirked. It was amusing, how hard he was trying. “Water would be great,” he said. He wasn’t particularly thirsty, but he knew that nervous alphas tended to thrive when given a task to handle. Sure enough, Chan perked up.

“Okay! You can sit wherever you want, and I’ll be right in.”

Minho nodded. He walked into the living room, choosing the single chair nearest to the window. He looked around. There were paintings hanging on the wall, all of them in a similar style. He tried to make out the signature of the one closest to him, but before he could, the pack started to trickle in.

The first was an alpha, judging by the distinct, musky undertone of his scent. “Hello,” he said, taking the furthest seat from Minho. “I’m Seungmin. Thank you for coming.”

“Of course.”

Seungmin stared at him, but not in an uncomfortable or creepy way. It was more of an appraising look. “You look pretty young to be retired. Did you get a facelift or something?”

Mimho barked out a startled laugh. Most people might have found it rude, but strangely, he thought it was rather charming. “I’m thirty-one,” he answered. Seungmin’s brows raised, impressed, and he felt a familiar swell of pride.

He worked hard on his studies his entire life. He finished high school early, just after his fifteenth birthday. He went straight to university on the pre-med track, got his first degree through an accelerated program by eighteen, and went off to med school. He graduated and was a resident by twenty-two, a practicing doctor by twenty-six, and retired by twenty-nine. He was proud of the impact he made during those three years, and sometimes wondered what he might have been able to do with more time. There was no sense in dwelling on it though.

“You’re a genius, then?” Seungmin asked, no traces of jokes or mocking at all.

Minho shrugged casually. Yes. “I studied a lot.”

Chan came back in then, carrying a a glass of water with one of those little toothpick umbrellas sticking out of it like they were at a tropical resort. He must have caught the bewildered expression on Minho’s face because he laughed in a self-deprecating sort of way.

“Hyung,” Seungmin said, exasperated. “Seriously?”

“I’m nervous,” Chan admitted. “It seemed like a good idea in the moment. We had a bunch of them left over from Changbin’s birthday.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” Minho said, taking the glass from him. He left the umbrella in, if only to spare Chan any more embarrassment.

Two more pack members came piling in at once. One had a buzz cut, the other blond hair down to his shoulders. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” the blond said sheepishly, his voice deeper than he would have expected. “I’m Felix.”

“I’m Hyunjin,” the other added. He sat down on the couch and pulled Felix into his lap, hooking his chin over his shoulder. “Do you really think you’re going to be able to help Yen-ah?”

Minho assumed he was talking about Jeongin. “I’m going to try,“ he said calmly. Which made him think about the one piece of advice they may have tried. He looked at Chan. “How’s he been doing with the rice and meat?”

“A lot better. I can’t believe we didn’t think of it ourselves.” Chan ran a hand back through his hair, settling down on the couch too. “The nausea’s still there, and he’s still throwing up at least twice a day, but it’s way more manageable.”

“That sounds more like typical morning sickness,” Minho nodded. “That’s good.”

Jisung reappeared in the doorway, offering a sheepish smile. "Changbin-hyung’s trying to coax him out of the nest. He's not growling this time and his claws aren't out, so we think there's a chance we might get him to the hallway at least."

Minho hummed quietly. He reached into his bag, pulling out a small piece of fabric that he'd scented carefully earlier that morning. "Here," he said, offering it out. "Give him this. Let him get used to my scent."

Jisung walked over, grabbing it from him. Their fingers lightly brushed in the process, and his cheeks turned pink. Minho paid it no mind; he knew some people were sensitive about physical contact, but with all of his work experience, it took a lot to phase him.

“Lay it right outside his nest, and let him approach it when he's ready," Minho instructed. Jisung nodded and scurried out the room, so he addressed those remaining as he said, "It’s important to let Jeongin-ssi do this on his own terms. His instincts are going haywire right now. If you push too hard, he'll regress. The more scared he is, the more his wolf will fight to take over."

“You’ve worked with people like Jeonginnie before?” Felix asked. It sounded like genuine curiosity, so Minho gave a hum of confirmation.

“I have,” he said, taking a sip of water. Chan had even put ice cubes in there, and they clinked against the glass he set it back down. 

“You’re not, like… scared of him?”

Minho paused. He supposed it wasn’t an unexpected question, because most professionals in his shoes would be. To them, feral individuals were dangerous and unpredictable. To him, their patterns of behavior were fairly predictable by putting himself in their shoes. “No,” he said at last. “I don’t think there’s anything to be afraid of.”

“I don’t know about that,” Hyunjin grumbled. It sounded mostly playful, though he rubbed over two silvery scars on his upper arm. “He swiped me pretty good the first time we met.”

“You tried to touch his face,” Seungmin deadpanned. 

Hyunjin gave a soft humph in response, and Minho briefly wondered if there was some lingering animosity there. Then he caught the smirk on Hyunjin’s face, and figured it was just teasing. Pack dynamics were finicky things, each one unique. Some followed a more traditional hierarchy, but theirs seemed to be full of banter.

“I did what you said,” Jisung told Minho as he came back into the room. “He hissed at first, but he was sniffing it when I left.”

“Is Changbin still in with him?” Chan asked.

“Yeah.”

“These are beautiful paintings,” Minho commented, gesturing toward the one directly across from him. He figured some small talk and getting the pack to relax would only help Jeongin if he did try to venture out of his nest. 

“I painted them, actually,” Hyunjin said proudly. 

“You’re very talented.”

“You have no idea.” Chan leaned forward, eager to praise him. “He had a whole gallery last month, and they auctioned off some of his work. One sold for over one hundred thousand won.”

Minho’s brows raised. “That’s amazing.”

Hyunjin ducked his head, suddenly bashful. “Ah, we all have things we’re good at. Lix is one of the top gaming streamers in the world.”

The last video game Minho played was Mari Kart as an elementary school student. Vaguely, he knew that there were large following of people that enjoyed watching other people play different games, but he’d never understood the appeal. “That’s great too.”

“I’m a music producer,” Jisung added. Minho felt like a daycare teacher facilitating show-and-tell. “Do you listen to K-Pop?”

“Not really?” Minho knew a few songs. He mostly listened to classical music—not necessarily because he enjoyed it, but because it was habit after years of his parents forcing him to. 

“Oh. Well, I make songs for a lot of popular groups.”

“We all work,” Chan cut in, looking a little flustered by his pack. “Sorry. You’re not here to listen us go on about ourselves.”

“It’s fine,” Minho said, and found that he meant it. “What do you do?”

“I work for a company.”

“He’s the CEO of Doorstep,” Hyunjin corrected. 

This was a rich pack then. Doorstep was the top food delivery app in the country, and top three in the rest of the world. It explained how they’d afforded such a large chunk of territory not too far from the city. “I think I’ve seen Doorstep drivers more often than my parents in the last decade,” he said with a small laugh. Chan gave a laugh of his own.

“I’ll give you a code for unlimited free deliveries. It’s the least we can do.”

Minho certainly wasn’t going to turn down that offer.

“Changbin’s a personal trainer,” Jisung said. “You haven’t seen him yet but he’s super buff. He has a YouTube channel where he teaches workouts too, and he has over a million subscribers.”

“What about you?” Minho asked, looking at Seungmin. He couldn’t quite place him. Maybe a lawyer or something.

“I’m a tutor,” Seungmin said with a shrug. “I mostly help kids get ready for the CSAT.”

Felix scoffed. “He’s being modest. He graduated top of his class at Korea University. He’s the most in-demand tutor in the country.”

“And Jeongin?”

“He records lullabies for pups. He loves kids. If he could handle it he’d probably be a nursery school teacher, but… well, anyway. He’s happy. The channel where he uploads the songs gets around half a million views a day.”

It was amazing to Minho that each of them were so well-established individually without giving up on their closeness as a pack. They each had their own thing, and they were equally successful in it. 

Noise from outside the room halted any further conversation. A few moments later, annother man appeared. “Jeongin’s downstairs,” Changbin said, his carefully neutral tone betrayed by the excited grin on his face. “He’s sitting on the steps for now, but he said he wants to try to come in at some point.”

“Even just exposing himself to me being in his territory is a fantastic start,” Minho said, his heart warming. He thought of his conversation with Chan and the failed attempts of countless others, and he couldn’t help but smirk to himself. This was why he was the expert.

They carried on with the small talk for a few more minutes, the conversation pivoting mostly to Minho and Seungmin talking about their Alma matter. Minho wouldn’t say that he remembered his Korea University days fondly—being one of three omegas in his entire program was an interesting experience, to say the least—but it wasn’t all terrible.

The entire pack relaxed more and more, and without realizing it, Minho did too. The calmer scents must have done the trick exactly as he’d hoped, because the next time he looked over a man he could only assume was Jeongin was there, hovering in the doorway. He wasn’t looking at Minho directly just yet, but he didn’t take any offense. Somehow he knew when Minho noticed him, because he went straight into greeting him. “I’m very grateful for your time,” he said, dipping into a ninety-degree bow.

“Oh!” Minho was startled. It had been years since he received a bow. The last time was a beta father thanking him for saving his mate’s life during a rather intense delivery. “There’s really no need for that. Thank you though.”

Jeongin straightened up again. For one fleeting moment, his eyes landed on Minho, before he quickly scurried over to wedge himself on the couch between Chan and Hyunjin. He was pale, with dark circles under his eyes, and he was poorly hiding a grimace—that hormonal panel was a must. 

“I’m so proud of you,” he heard Chan murmur softly, and watched as he placed a grounding hand on Jeongin’s knee. It was sweet seeing how they interacted.

With Jeongin finally in the room, Minho figured it was the right time to discuss what he’d come all this way for. “I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to come down,” he told him gently. To the rest of the pack he said, “I hope this makes all of you feel better. Jeongin-ssi isn’t hopeless, he just needs people who are patient and willing to approach him on his terms. I have no doubt that the right professional will be able to help.”

He chose not to mention how hard it would be for them to find the right professional. He told himself that wasn’t his problem.

“You’ll want to try and make that happen sooner rather than later,” he added, mostly speaking to Jeongin again. “It’s really important to have regular examinations. Especially since you’re feral. I’m sure Chan-ssi told you about our conversation the other day, but I’d really like you to have a hormonal panel done based off the symptoms you’re experiencing.”

Jeongin swallowed thickly. “Would you do it?”

Absolutely not. Minho dug his nails into his palm. He knew this was a bad idea. He should have never offered to have a phone call, let alone made the trip out here. He wanted to decline, and he was ready to, but Jeongin was staring at him with shiny, hopeful eyes. “I could do a basic examination today,” he said reluctantly, “just to check on your health and the pup’s. I don’t have the supplies for bloodwork or anything, but I brought a few things.”

“That would be amazing,” Chan said quickly, relief seeping into every word. 

Minho forced a nod. He told himself it was a matter of ethics, which he was technically still bound by because he made the impulsive decision to renew his medical license last year rather than letting it expire. He couldn’t turn Jeongin away knowing that he was willing to receive prenatal care. 

He grabbed his bag, pulling the pulse oximeter out first. He figured it would be the best place to start, since it required the least amount of contact. “We’ll start by checking your vitals. Have you ever been checked with one of these before?”

Jeongin glanced at the device. “Yeah. It goes on my finger, right?”

“Exactly,” Minho said, pleased enough. “If you want, one of your pack mates can clip it on for me, but I’ll have to come closer to read the numbers myself.”

“Seungmin-hyung?”

“Why me?” Seungmin groaned, but his scent sweetened. He was pleased. He walked over and took the pulse oximeter from Minho, before walking over and kneeling in front of Jeongin. He took his hand, gently clipping it onto his index finger. He even pressed the button to turn it on without prompting.

Minho watched as Jeongin tensed, but relaxed again fairly quickly as his wolf registered there was no real threat. He gave him an extra twenty seconds or so before saying, “Alright. I’m going to check what it says, okay?”

He waited until Jeongin gave a minuscule nod before standing up. He took three steps forward, leaving a decent gap between them, but close enough that he could read. His oxygen was fantastic, as expected. His pulse was a little high, but Minho chalked that up to anxiety. “Perfect,” he said. “I’d like to check your blood pressure next. Is that okay with you?”

“Yes,” Jeongin said meekly.

Minho returned to his bag, swapping out the pulse oximeter for a blood pressure cuff. He knew a lot of doctors had switched over to the automated machines, but he didn’t think they were ever as accurate. “Have you had your blood pressure taken before?”

Jeongin didn’t answer this time. Chan cleared his throat after a few beats of silence. “He has,” he said. “We have– had a primary doctor who comes out here and gives everyone check-ups once a year.”

“He quit last month,” Hyunjin added. “He was an old, wrinkly alpha and didn’t like that Jeongin hissed at him.”

Jeongin shrunk deeper into the couch, if that was even possible. Minho, on the other hand, was impressed. He wished he had enough of a connection with his omega to hiss at alphas that bothered him. The other omega seemed shy about it though, so he redirected the conversation. “Okay. So you know what to expect. I’ll wrap this around your arm, and it’ll get tight for about a minute, then it’ll be over.”

This was much more of a challenge for Jeongin. As soon as Minho started to place the cuff where it needed to be, there was a low rumble—not quite a growl, but a warning nonetheless. He quickly finished securing it on, then moved back slightly. “Great job,” he praised, and the rest of the pack followed suit.

His blood pressure was fine. A little elevated like his pulse, but nothing alarming. Minho took the cuff off and moved back to his seat, typing the numbers into his phone. “Everything looks great so far.”

“Is there–” Jeongin started, but cut himself off. Minho looked up, tilting his head slightly.

“You can ask me anything.”

“Do you know if the pup’s okay?” Jeongin asked. He sounded scared. 

Minho gave him a calming smile. “That’s what I’d like to check next. This is a device that allows us to listen to the pup's heartbeat," he explained as he got the fetal doppler and ultrasound gel out of his bag. He made his way back over and offered both out for Jeongin, who leaned in to hesitantly sniff at them. "We want to make sure it sounds nice and strong, right?"

"Right," Jeongin murmured, though it sounded strained. 

“It's completely harmless," Minho continued. "I'll press it against your abdomen and move it around until it's in the right position to detect the heartbeat. I'll be applying some pressure, but it won't hurt at all. I promise."

He didn't usually make promises. There were so many uncertainties, so many things out of his control, and he refused to lie to his patients. Those two words made Jeongin relax significantly though, and Minho was confident that it would be painless. 

"Are you okay with us trying this? Or do you want a few minutes to think about it?" 

Jeongin bit his lower lip. He glanced at Chan first, then the rest of the pack, who were looking at him expectantly. "I'm okay with trying," he said quietly. "I might need to hold a pillow or something though, my claws..."

He trailed off, clearly embarrassed, and that just didn't sit well with Minho. Of course his claws would come out when someone was prodding around near the pup; Minho would be more concerned if they didn't, because it could be a sign that he wasn't bonding properly. He waited until Jeongin made eye contact again before saying very clearly, "You're doing an amazing job protecting your pup. There's nothing for you to feel ashamed about."

Jeongin’s eyes watered, but he didn’t let the tears fall. Minho pretended not to notice for his sake, focusing on turning the dobbler on. In the meantime, Changbin passed him a throw pillow to hold on to.

“We have to apply some gel first,” Minho explained, holding up the bottle. “I can do it, you can do it yourself, or one of your mates can do it.”

Jeongin looked conflicted, but after thinking it over said, “You can do it.”

“You’re doing amazing, Yen-ie,” Chan said, practically gleaming with pride. 

“Alright. We need you to lay back on the couch, then we can get started.”

It took a minute for all of them to get rearranged in a way that Jeongin was comfortable with. He ended up with his head cradled in Chan’s lap, his legs draped over Seungmin’s, and a throw pillow clutched against his chest. 

“I’m going to apply the gel now. It might feel cold,” Minho warned. He squirted some gel out, and the same rumble from earlier returned. Out of the corner of his eye, he could already see some of the pillow stuffing falling out. “Okay. I’m going to use the doppler now. If it’s too much, just tell me to stop.”

He slowly brought the doppler to his abdomen. Jeongin gave a proper growl then, but he didn’t tell him to stop, so he applied a touch more pressure and started maneuvering it around. “Any second now, we should… be able to hear…”

There it was! Minho couldn’t help but grin as a steady whooshing sound filled the room. It had been so long since heard a pup’s heartbeat, and he’d forgotten what it felt like. “That’s your pup’s heartbeat,” he said, adjusting the doppler slightly. 

The pack looked stunned, a few even misty-eyed. He supposed this was the first thing that had made it feel real to them. Jeongin was still growling, but Minho had no doubt he was happy too.

“It’s so fast,” Jisung said, awed.

“That’s–” normal, he wanted to say, but then he realized the heartbeat actually was rather fast. He adjusted the doppler again. He did a count. Then another. Then a third just to be sure, listening carefully. That was when he heard it. 

“I think,” he said slowly, barely believing it himself, “it’s possible we’re hearing two heartbeats.”

“Like Jeongin’s and the pup’s?” Chan asked, brows furrowed.

“No,” Minho’s lips twitched. “Two fetal heartbeats. Two pups.”

The pack was dumbfounded. Even Jeongin’s growling stopped for a solid five seconds.

“It’s twins?” Hyunjin blurted. 

“It’s possible,” Minho repeated. He was fairly confident, but he didn’t want them to get ahead of themselves. “I wouldn’t be able to say for sure without an ultrasound.”

“Can you do one of them?” 

Minho had easily performed thousands of ultrasounds, but it wasn’t a matter of skill. His mouth was suddenly very dry. He pulled the doppler away, pursing his lips. “That would be something the doctor or midwife you end up working with would handle.”

Jeongin sat up in a rush. He didn’t seem to care that the gel got all over his shirt in the process, or that the stuffing from the throw pillow was sticking to him too. His eyes were wide and wild, but in a different way. He reached out for Minho, grabbing his wrist. The pack made noises of protest, Chan scrambling to try and get him off, but he was persistent. His grip was firm, but didn’t hurt. He must have been fighting his wolf hard. “Please,” he croaked. “You.”

Minho knew exactly what he meant, even if he couldn’t get the words out as he wanted to. A lump formed in his throat. “I’m retired, Jeongin-ssi. This isn’t something I do anymore.”

Jeongin didn’t let go. “Please.”

“We’ll pay whatever rate you charge,” Chan added. “Anything. Seriously.”

Money wasn’t the problem though. It was everything else. 

The inner medical nerd that still lived in the depths of Minho’s soul was practically drooling with excitement. On average, feral individuals were half as likely to conceive, and only one out of every ten pregnancies would make it past the ninth week. This meant that litters born of feral were exceedingly rare; in fact, if he recalled correctly, there was only a 0.32% chance of it. The opportunity to get hands-on experience with one was beyond tempting. 

He wouldn’t give in though. He couldn’t. The decision to retire hadn’t been an easy one, but he’d made it to protect himself. 

… although, maybe he needed to make an exception. This wasn’t a standard case he could pass along to any obstetrician in the country; it was a unicorn, even in the specialty field. Jeongin deserved proper care, and there was virtually no one else capable of providing him with it, especially now.

“I’ll come back next Saturday,” he said at last, and he hated himself for it. “We’ll see if we can get some bloodwork done, and I’ll try to bring a portable ultrasound machine so we can get a good look at things.”

“Thank you, Doctor Lee,” Chan said. “You’re a miracle worker. Really.”

Minho looked at Jeongin’s hand around his wrist, his fingers curled carefully so as not to nick him with his claws. He looked at Chan, once again on the verge of tears. He looked at the rest of the pack, all staring at him like he’d turned water to wine before their very eyes. Then, in a split second, he made his most dangerous decision yet. “You can call me Minho.”

Chapter Text

It was raining the second time Minho found himself on the dirt driveway leading to the Bang Pack house. He was nervous that his car would end up stuck in the mud, but thankfully the premium tires he’d upgraded to did just enough to get him through.

Chan was waiting on the porch for him, and came jogging over to the car when Minho parked. He had an umbrella opened, and held it over him as he got out of the car. His omega practically purred from the gesture, which was more than a little pathetic. His last relationship ended over two years ago, and clearly he missed being taken care of.

“Do you need me to carry anything?” Chan offered as Minho rummaged around the backseat, gathering up his things. He had his usual backpack, but also a portable ultrasound machine and other supplies tucked into a separate, larger bag. He had to pull a favor with a professor over at Yonsei University to borrow it—thankfully the handful of unpaid guest lectures he’d done were finally paying off.

“I’ve got it,” Minho said, closing the door. He walked with Chan, trying to stick close so he could have the cover of the umbrella too. As they finally made it to the cover of the porch, there was a giant flash of lightning, followed quickly by a rumble of thunder. It was a nasty storm, and for a moment he wished he would have cancelled, because the drive home was going to be a pain.

“The genius returns,” Seungmin said as they walked in the front door. Chan shot him a scolding look, but Minho laughed it off. He loved a bit of back-and-forth.

“The one and only,” he said wryly, setting his bags down so he could take off his coat. He looked around for some place to put it, but before he could even try, Chan was already taking it out of his hands.

“I’ll hang this for you.”

Minho’s heart started racing again. He looked back at Seungmin to distract himself, trying to get a grip. “Where’s everyone else?”

“The kitchen,” Seungmin shrugged. “They’re getting lunch ready.”

“We thought it was the least we could do for you, since you’re doing so much for us,” Chan added upon seeing Minho’s confused expression. “We really can’t thank you enough for this.”

“It’s nothing,” Minho lied. It was a lot. It was more than he felt ready for. It was so much, in fact, that he’d spent the last week staring at his ceiling before bed, regretting every choice that had brought him to this whole experience. 

The only thing keeping him committed was that this was a first for him. There was nothing he enjoyed more than a good challenge, something to get his brain working, and those opportunities had been few and far between since he retired. Plus, he was a walking cliche who chose to study medicine because he had dreams of helping people. Jeongin and his pack needed him, and he had too big of a heart to turn them away.

“Is he here?” Felix called from down the hall.

“Yeah!” Seungmin responded, and gesture for Minho to follow him.

They made their way down the hall, which was lined with various framed photos of the pack. There was nothing professional about them—some even blurry from the low quality zoom of a phone camera—but it was somehow more charming that way. When they walked through the doorway into the kitchen, Minho was stunned. It was just as gorgeous as the rest of the house, and it looked like something straight out of his dreams. Oak cabinets and a large island took up one half, while the other had a large table in a nook surrounded by windows. It felt homey. 

“Sorry about the mess,” Chan said from behind him, sounding sheepish. Minho blinked, looking around. There were a few dishes in the sink and what looked like flour on the counters, but he wouldn’t call it messy.

“It’s great to see you again, Minho-ssi,” Felix smiled warmly. “We weren’t sure what you’d like, so we just kept it simple. There’s some sandwiches and a batch of brownies dessert.”

“That’s perfect.” He couldn’t remember the last time he had a meal that wasn’t delivered to his step or from a convenience store. Maybe for his birthday the previous year, when he’d visited his parents and his mother practically spoon-fed him seaweed soup. 

He looked over at the table again, where Hyunjin, Jisung, and Changbin were seated. He pressed his lips together thoughtfully, noting that one particular omega was absent. “Is Jeongin-ssi in his nest?”

“No, he’s down here,” Hyunjin said. For a moment Minho thought he meant he was in another room downstairs, but then he followed his pointed gaze down, under the table where Jeongin was sitting on the floor.

“Is that his preferred spot?” Minho asked without judgment. It wouldn’t surprise him. The tight, semi-enclosed space was a bit like a cave, and probably calmed his instincts.

Hyunjin shook his head. “He only went down there after you came in. He caught your scent.”

Minho nodded. He hadn’t expected Jeongin to welcome him with warm arms, and was pleasantly surprised that he was even tolerating being in the same room as him right away today. Building trust with his wolf would take time, and he was willing to follow his pace. 

“He wouldn’t stop talking about you after you left last week,” Changbin said, reaching down bravely to scratch Jeongin’s scalp. Surprisingly the omega allowed it, though his sharp eyes remained trained on Minho. “He thinks you’re like, a feral whisperer or something.”

Minho couldn’t hide his pleased smile. “I wouldn’t say that,” he laughed. “I appreciate it though.”

As Chan and Seungmin moved to sit down at the table, he wasn’t quite sure whether to approach or not. There were eight plates set up, so clearly they expected him to, but he wasn’t so sure that was the best idea when Jeongin was currently using it as a retreat. It wouldn’t be quite the same violation as approaching his nest, but it would still be invasive.

“Would it be alright if the two of us ate here at the counter?” He asked, looking at Felix.

Felix’s brow furrowed. “I mean, yeah? But you’re more than welcome to sit over–” he cut himself as he followed Minho’s subtle nod, eyes settling on Jeongin. Understanding dawned. “Ah, right. Of course, it might be a little cramped. We’ll eat over here.”

Minho settled himself onto the nearest barstool seat, watching Felix start to pass out plates. He noted that Jeongin was given his first, and wondered if it was because he was expecting, or if that was just the way things were done in this pack. His own plate was slid in front of him immediately after, though there didn’t seem to be any particular order for the others. They obviously valued equality, which was refreshing. So many packs were still caught up in old fashioned hierarchies, and he found it all rather exhausting. 

When everyone had their lunch, Felix finally sat down next to him. “Are you from Seoul?” 

Small talk. Minho barely masked a grimace. “I’m from Gimpo,” he said with a slight shrug. Growing up there had been nice enough, but there wasn’t much more to say about it. “How about you?”

“Australia,” Felix said, grinning. “Chan is too actually.”

Minho raised his brows, looking toward the alpha. Felix’s answer wasn’t exactly unexpected, his Korean still carrying a slight accent and formality he’d come to recognize among foreigners. Chan didn’t have any of that though.

“I’ve lived here since I was a teenager,” Chan explained, the tips of his ears visibly red from the attention. “Felix has only been here for… what, seven years now?”

“Around that,” Felix agreed. 

“Everyone else is from Seoul,” Jisung chimed in, “except our Jeonginnie.”

“Oh?” Minho’s gaze moved downward. Jeongin, unlike the rest of them, was enjoying a plain bowl of rice, still semi-crouched under table. His cheeks were full of food, his hair fluffy.

“He’s from the south,” Jisung added when it became clear Jeongin wasn’t going to elaborate for himself. “The Gyeongsangnam-do province we think, because he speaks in that dialect sometimes.”

“His family travelled around quite a bit from what he’s told us,” Chan said, and while his tone was neutral, his eyes clouded with something. Disdain, maybe. “They mostly kept to themselves.”

Minho hummed. He could fill in the blanks from what Chan had previously shared, and decided it was best not to broach the subject further for now. He didn’t want to risk any more emotional distress than he was already working with. He occupied himself by taking a bite of his sandwich, surprised by the burst of flavor. “This is delicious,” he complimented once he had swallowed the mouthful. “What sauce is it?”

“Ah, thank you,” Felix said bashfully. “It’s actually a family secret.”

“His alpha mother is a professional chef,” Seungmin explained. “She owns like, thirty restaurants in Australia.”

“Wow,” Minho blinked, wondering if there was even a single ordinary person associated with this pack. 

“If you think the sauce is good, just wait until you try the brownie,” Changbin said knowingly. He had chocolate crumbs at the corners of his mouth, and his plate was already clean. 

It turned out Changbin was absolutely right. His stomach was already comfortably full when he finished his sandwich a few minutes later, but he indulged himself. The brownie was rich and fudgy, easily the best he’d ever had. He said as much to Felix, who ducked his head and waved a hand through the air.

“It’s nothing, really.”

Chan and Changbin took it upon themselves to take everyone’s plates, including Jeongin’s still half-full bowl of rice. Minho frowned as he noticed. “Is the nausea bad again?”

Chan sighed. “It’s been worse the past few days. The body aches too.”

Minho didn’t like the sound of that at all. He really needed to get that hormonal panel done and see what he was working with. “Have you tried peppermint tea? It won’t get rid of the problem, but it can sometimes help make it more manageable.”

Chan looked stricken. “Ah, is it supposed to be peppermint? We’ve been trying ginger.”

“Ginger’s been known to help too,” Minho assured. “I’ve personally just seen more success with peppermint.”

“I’ll buy some on my way home tomorrow,” Changbin said, already typing a note into his phone.

Minho tilted his head, curious. “You don’t have any stores around here?”

“The closest one’s a thirty minute drive, and it’s small. It’s easier to just get our groceries when we’re in the city.”

Maybe he should have figured as much, but even the pack with the feral beta he’d shadowed lived near a village with a small market. It was such a different way of life that he found it hard to imagine, but they seemed perfectly happy. He shook the thoughts away for now.

“I’d really like to get that bloodwork done today if we can,” he said, looking at Jeongin. Surprisingly, Jeongin was looking right back. His lip was curled into the beginnings of a snarl, but he didn’t make any noise of protest. “I’m not worried yet, but I’d like to get ahead of any issues.”

“Good luck with that,” Seungmin said, deadpan. “The old doctor had to sedate him.”

“Only once!” Chan cut in quickly, giving Seungmin a look. “It was one time, and he didn’t have the best bedside manner. As we’ve established.”

“I’m not scared,” Minho said, because it seemed the pack still didn’t understand that. “You don’t have to soften things for me.”

In fact, he’d rather they didn’t. It would only make his job more difficult. 

Chan ran a hand back through his hair. “I’m sorry. It’s habit, I guess. Everyone else–” he shook his head, “It doesn’t matter. You’re not them. I know that. We know that.”

Minho nodded. He didn’t blame them, especially with all of their past experiences, but this would never work if they were constantly trying to justify Jeongin’s behavior to him. Not only was it annoying, but it would put Jeongin further on the defensive.

He stood up from the barstool, not missing the warning rumbles Jeongin let out as he did. He didn’t pay it any mind, slowly lowering himself onto the floor just next to the seat. He crossed his legs, looking at Jeongin again now that they were at the same level. He didn’t quite make eye contact, but he came closer to it than he had before. “Are you comfortable with me examining you again today?”

The rumbles continued. Minho waited patiently, and sure enough a minute or so later, Jeongin gave a quiet, “Yes.”

“That’s great. Like I already mentioned, I think we should get some bloodwork done for you so I can run a hormonal panel. It might help us figure out how to get you feeling better again.”

Jeongin didn’t like that at all. His eyes flashed yellow, and he gave a low hiss. Minho didn’t flinch. He’d braced himself for an intense reaction to that.

“I’m not going to do anything you don’t want to. This is all at your pace.” He waited, letting that sink in before adding, “I’m here to help you, not hurt you.”

They stayed like that for a few minutes, the room silent. The yellow slowly faded from Jeongin’s eyes again, and suddenly he grabbed hold of Hyunjin’s leg. The other omega let out a dramatic yelp, but immediately placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. “We’ll be right there with you,” he cooed in an exaggerated tone. 

Jeongin mumbled something in response. Minho didn’t catch it all, but he heard the words no needles very clearly. 

“Why don’t we start with an ultrasound, then try the bloodwork?” Minho suggested. He figured seeing the pup (or pups, if his suspicions were correct) would calm Jeongin down and hopefully help the blood drawing process. “It’s really similar to what we did last week to listen to the pup’s heartbeat, except this time there’ll be a screen so we can see. How does that sound?”

Jeongin gave a jerky nod, but the tight grip he had on Hyunjin’s leg was enough for Minho to know he was still anxious about it. “Can we do it on the couch again?”

“Of course,” Minho said easily. He was pleased that he was advocating for himself. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

They moved into the living room per Jeongin’s request, though it proved to be a bit of a process. It took nearly twenty minutes for the pack to coax him out, and another ten after that to get him into the living room with Minho, but they managed. The gentle approach worked to their advantage anyway, because his scent wasn’t nearly as soured by the time the ultrasound equipment was set up and they were ready to go.

“This is the same gel we used last time. Do you want Seungmin-ssi to apply it for you again?” Minho asked, holding the bottle out. Jeongin gave it a sniff, then shook his head.

“You.”

That was surprising, but Minho didn’t question it. He squirted the gel out onto his abdomen, then picked up the probe. “This is the same too. You’ll feel some pressure but no pain.”

When he received no sort of protest, he gently pressed the probe down. Jeongin started growling, his claws extracting, but this time around his eyes flickered between the screen and Minho, rather than watching him intensely.

“Are we supposed to be looking at a pup?” Jisung asked, sounding nervous. Minho gave a small, amused laugh.

“Not yet. I have to find them first.”

He started maneuvering the probe. It was strange after so long, but his muscle memory kicked right back in. When he finally found the right angle he paused.

“There they are,” he breathed out, more than a little mesmerized himself. He adjusted the probe slightly, and the image became even clearer. “Two pups, just like we thought.”

“I can’t see anything,” Felix admitted, and there were various noises of agreement from the rest of the pack. 

“Pup A is right here,” Minho said with a big smile, using his free hand to circle one spot on the screen, then another. “Pup B is to the left right… there.”

He could feel his own heart starting to race now that they had confirmation. This was groundbreaking. A twin feral pregnancy. He was rusty, but he was fairly confident that the gestation was right around eleven weeks. Being the leading obstetrician on a case like this was an opportunity he would have died for back during his residency days.

“They’re only tiny things right now, about the size of figs, but you can see their heads are here,” he pointed them out. “They look healthy from what I can tell so far. You’re at the end of your first trimester, right around the eleven week mark so it’s still early, but that’s good. It means we can make sure you and them have the best care through all of this.”

He reached over, pressing a few buttons. A steady whooshing sound filtered through the small speakers. “The heartbeats still sound strong too.”

Someone gave an incrimination sniffle. Minho finally teared his eyes from the screen, giving himself a moment to soak in the pack’s reactions. There was Jisung with an open-mouthed stare. Felix, teary eyed and beaming. Changbin with his chest puffed out with pride. Hyunjin, practically vibrating with excitement. Seungmin murmuring something inaudible in Jeongin’s ear, his lower lip wobbling. Chan, trying and failing to hide the fact that he was crying. 

Then he looked at Jeongin. The growls and rumbles had stopped, and his gaze was now fixed firmly on the screen. There was something primal about his expression—something raw and tender in a way Minho had never seen before. 

“They’re nice and safe in there,” he added, not wanting to ruin the moment, but knowing that he would want to hear it. 

Jeongin reached a hand out. Minho assumed he was reaching for the screen or probe, and despite how stupidly expensive the piece of machinery was, he didn’t try to stop him. Instead though he grabbed onto his wrist, fingers curling lightly around. Goosebumps scattered up his legs at the feeling of his claws brushing his skin, and the air around them became tense as the others waited for Jeongin to lash out, but Minho didn’t panic. Somehow he knew exactly what he was trying to say, and in a possible foolish move, he dared to use his free hand to place it gently atop Jeongin’s.

“You’re doing well,” he said softly.

The claws dug in, but not hard enough to hurt. Jeongin slowly angled his head ever so slightly to the left, the gesture so subtle that he wouldn’t have noticed it if he weren’t so hyperaware of his every movement—but Minho did see it, and his heart warmed. He was baring his neck, his wolf thanking him in his own way with an act of pure trust. 

It was remarkable. It was proof that what he was doing really, truly mattered. And it meant enough that for the first time, he found himself looking forward to the next few months. 

Chapter Text

While Minho printed out a few sonograms for them to have as a keepsake, Changbin helped Jeongin get cleaned up, using a towel to gently wipe the excess gel from his stomach. “I can’t believe we’re really having two pups,” he breathed out.

“It’s a miracle,” Minho agreed, and he meant it. He’d seen a lot of unexpected pregnancies—an omega father nearing fifty, an alpha mother who had her tubes tied, a beta couple finally succeeding after their ninth round of IVF—but never one that so clearly defied the odds. 

“Does this change things for him?” Seungmin asked seriously, a slight furrow to his brow. “Having more than one pup is riskier, right?”

Minho paused, choosing his words carefully. He didn’t want to scare them, but he also didn’t want them to feel blindsided down the road. “It’s riskier, yes,” he admitted, “but we’ll be monitoring things closely. There’s nothing to worry about yet.”

Yet being the key word, because there would be plenty of things to worry about as the pregnancy progressed. He was almost certain that bed rest was in Jeongin’s future, but there was no point in bringing that up now when it was still hopefully months away.

“I’ve always thought twins are really cool,” Jisung said suddenly, changing the mood. “They can like, read each other’s minds and shit.”

“That’s not a real thing. It’s just something people joke about,” Felix sounded fond, if exasperated. 

“How would you know? Are you a twin?”

As the two of them carried on with their playful bickering, Minho refocused his attention on Jeongin. He cleared his throat quietly to get his attention, and the omega instantly looked at him. “Do you feel comfortable trying the bloodwork?” He asked gently. “It’s alright if not, but I think it would really help me figure out how to get you feeling better.” 

Jeongin was visibly torn. At last, he managed to force out in a gravelly tone, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Minho sucked in a sharp breath. He wasn’t exactly sure how to respond to that. He couldn’t exactly reassure him, because it was a very real possibility. It took him a moment to figure out what to say, but finally he settled on, “I had three cats growing up. Sometimes they scratched me or bit me because they were scared. That didn’t stop me from continuing to love them and care for them. If you hurt me, I’m not going to run away. I’ll handle it, or your pack will step in and help if we need them to, and we’ll try again another time.”

He tried to ignore the silence that had fallen over the room, and the way they were all staring at him in awe. He just kept his steady gaze on Jeongin and repeated, “I’m not scared, Jeongin-ssi.”

Jeongin swallowed hard. Nodded once. Then, “We can– we can try.”

“Do we have to hold him down?” Chan asked, his scent taking on an unpleasant, almost metallic note at the thought. Minho gave him an incredulous look.

“Have other doctors restrained him for things like this?”

“A few times.”

Minho scoffed. He’d love nothing more than ten minutes alone in a room with the so-called practitioners that poor Jeongin had been forced to deal with. “Then they were being lazy. Unless he’s harming himself, there’s no need for that.”

“He’s not much of a biter, if it helps,” Hyunjin said, half-joking and half-serious. “He definitely uses his claws though. And he rips claw caps right off, so they won’t work.”

He rubbed the scars on his arm just as he had during their first meeting, but this time it seemed like more of a mindless act. Minho found his gaze lingering on them for a few seconds too long. They were beautiful, in a way.

“There are plenty of non-invasive things we can try if the claws become a barrier,” Minho responded calmly. He'd never been much of a fan of claw caps; there were numerous articles detailing how they induced more anxiety and aggressive behavior. He would opt for speciality mittens if needed, though he was hoping it wouldn't come to that. “I think it’s best if we hold off on them for now though. The less threatened we have Jeongin-ssi feeling, the better.”

Seungmin smiled, a small but real thing. “Then you should probably stop calling him Jeongin-ssi. He hates honorifics because his family never used them.”

Minho blushed, which was a rare feat for him. He could feel it creeping up his neck and to his cheeks. “I apologize. What would you prefer I call you?”

“Just Jeongin,” the beta answered on his behalf, but not in an overbearing way. In fact, Minho doubted he would have said anything more if not for the pleading look Jeongin was currently sending his way. “Or Yen-ah, Yen-ie, Jeonginnie… anything like that.”

Minho nodded. He could do that. The honorifics were a bit stifling, and easing Jeongin’s discomfort was more important than the professional boundary he’d been trying to keep anyway. “Alright, Jeongin. Are you ready?”

Jeongin took a deep breath, glancing warily at Chan. His alpha nodded, reaching out to place a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“I want to try."

Minho gave him an encouraging smile. "That's great. We'll start by placing a tourniquet around your arm. It just helps the blood pool and makes it easier to collect," he explained as he fished the kit out of his bag. He opened everything up, offering the band out to him. Once Jeongin gave it an approving sniff, he carefully tied the band around his arm—tight, but not enough to hurt. He watched Jeongin’s expression carefully, and while his lip was curling into the beginnings of a snarl, there was nothing outright threatening yet. 

He kept his movements slow and deliberate as he reached for the rest of the kit, getting the everything else he needed set up. When he was ready he looked at Jeongin again, avoiding direct eye contact for now. “Are you ready to try the needle?”

Jeongin started growling. A few of the pack scents spiked sharply, and Minho shot the others a sharp look. Their concern was understandable, but it wasn’t helpful right now. Strong scents would overwhelm him. “That’s alright. We’ll wait as long as you need.”

That turned out to be approximately twelve minutes, during which Minho stayed still as a statue, allowing Jeongin’s wolf the time to process. They'd made incredible progress, the earlier sign of submission proof of that, but he couldn't let his guard down. Jeongin was only comfortable with him because of the effort he was making, and if he slacked off on that, it would definitely cause a reaction. 

"M'ready," Jeongin finally said, his voice muffled into the pillow he was clutching to his chest with his free arm. Minho hummed in affirmation, picking the needle up. He made sure to keep it in his line of sight the entire time.

“Okay. I'm going to place this in your arm now. There’s going to be a pinch,” he warned.

Three things happened very quickly: Minho pressed the needle in as gently as he could, Jeongin’s eyes flashed yellow, and there was searing pain through Minho’s forearm as claws cut through his skin.

The room dissolved into chaos. It was a mess of scents and shouts, all panicked, and the pack were all on their feet and crowding around them in seconds. Minho didn’t even glance at the damage to his arm, keeping his attention firmly on Jeongin.

“It’s alright,” Minho said calmly. He ignored how his heart was racing, his body instinctively screaming for him to run away, and choked down a curse. “We’ve already got some blood. If you can mange for another minute, maybe two, I’ll have enough to run the tests.”

He wasn’t sure how much of that Jeongin actually understood, but despite a few leftover warning rumbles, he made no effort to lash out again. “I’m sorry the pain surprised you,” he added, “I know you’re more sensitive to things like this. That probably felt like a lot more than a pinch, huh?”

It was something he should have been prepared for, and he was kicking himself for it. He’d sat through at least two seminars about feral individuals having lower pain tolerances because of their heightened senses. He knew better.

“You’re bleeding,” Jisung croaked out. It took Minho a few seconds to realize he was talking to him.

“I’m fine,” Minho said firmly. He looked down at last, and while there was definitely some blood, it wasn’t anything too deep. Jeongin’s wolf hadn’t been trying to hurt him, after all; he’d just been trying to warn him off. “They’re not very deep. I’ll just clean them up and bandage them when we’re done.”

“But–” Felix started, sounding nervous. 

“I’ve had far worse,” Minho interrupted, and it was true. A single omega mother once broke three of his fingers during her labor when he was a resident and made the unfortunate mistake of offering his hand for her to squeeze. His arm was still stinging, and there was a high chance he’d need a round of antibiotics to treat the infection that would surely come, but at least he wouldn’t need to wear a cast for eight weeks. “Please, just let me do my job.”

Part of him expected more of a fight, but the pack backed off respectfully. 

“Are you okay if we continue?” He asked Jeongin, keeping his voice steady. “The worst part is already over.”

“Yes,” Jeongin managed, obviously struggling to hold back. Minho wasted no time refocusing on the task at hand, getting four full vials of blood. As soon as he had enough he removed the needle, pressing a small piece of gauze to the wound for him. 

“We’re all done. You did very well,” Minho praised, using medical tape to secure the gauze. It was clear he needed the reassurance, and his pack still seemed too rattled to give it to him.

“I hurt you.”

“You reacted to a threat,” Minho corrected, “but you backed off when you realized I wouldn't hurt you or the pups.”

He looked at the scratches again. The bleeding had slowed and the pain was slowly fading, but they were still angry-looking and puffy around the edges. 

“I’ll help you get cleaned up,” Changbin said quickly. “We have some antiseptic somewhere. Lix-ah, can you grab the first aid kit?”

“There’s no need. I have some in my bag,” Minho waved him off. He put the vials of blood in the speciality case he’s brought for storage, taking his gloves off. Then he grabbed the bottle of cleanser, holding it up just to prove to them he was perfectly capable.  “If you could just point me to the bathroom…”

Changbin looked ready to protest, but Chan silenced him by clearing his throat. “We’ll give you your privacy,“ he said pointedly. “Hyunjin-ah, can you show him to the bathroom please? The upstairs one has the biggest sink for him.”

Hyunjin nodded, standing up. Minho followed behind him as they made their way upstairs, trying not to be too obvious as he looked around. There were framed photos lining the hallway, though unlike the ones he’d seen downstairs, these were professional shots from what looked like their mating ceremony. The doors were all closed, so he couldn’t see much more than that.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Hyunjin asked quietly.

Minho smiled wryly. “I wasn’t lying about my cats. This isn’t my first scratch.”

“Yeah, but his claws are a lot bigger.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Hyunjin stopped walking abruptly. There was a door to their left, but Minho didn’t feel comfortable letting himself in—partially because it felt too presumptuous, but also because Hyunjin was staring at him with an odd intensity.

“Jeongin’s not here right now. If it hurts, you can just say it hurts.”

Something about the way he said it made a lump form in Minho’s throat. He felt a bit like he did when he was a pup and would fall and scrape his knees, not wanting to cry and have to return home from the park. 

“It hurts,” Minho relented, “but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

He thought it was the right thing to say, but something about the subtle shift in Hyunjin’s expression told him that maybe it wasn’t. He decided not to dwell on it, his palms turning sweaty. “Is this the bathroom?”

“Yeah. Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

“I’m fine.”

Hyunjin nodded. He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t try to insist either. “Come back downstairs whenever you’re done.”

____________

By the time Minho finished carefully washing his cuts and had willed away the tears from his eyes, he was exhausted.

He wasn’t used to this much social interaction anymore, spending most of his days holed up in his apartment. It was nice spending time around a real, loving pack, but it was also… a lot. He’d already spent more time here than he’d planned.

It was no matter though, because it was over now. He performed the ultrasound, successfully drew blood, and he could finally go home and regroup until the results came back and he needed to plan another visit.

As he carefully retraced his steps and headed back downstairs, there a boom of thunder so loud that it seemed to rattle the walls. He grimaced. He’d never been scared of storms per se, but he wasn’t thrilled about the idea of driving through such a nasty one.  

“All good?” Seungmin asked as he walked back into the living room.

“There was barely a mark,” Minho lied with ease. He’d thrown a bandage around his arm, mostly to hide the damage from Jeongin on his way out. Stress would do him no good. “I’m going to head out now, but I’ll be in touch as soon as we get the results from the blood tests back. That should be around three days from now, maybe a little longer if the labs are full. You did really well today, Jeongin-ah. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Thank you again, Minho,” Jeongin said, the words spoken with so much sincerity that it made his heart physically hurt. 

“It’s no problem at all.”

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Chan said, rising to his feet. He helped Minho gather his belongings, and lead the way to the front door. Minho swung it open, and—

That couldn’t be right.

There was no driveway. Instead, about thirty feet from Minho’s parked car, there was a mud pit that backed up to multiple inches of water. Chan sucked in a sharp breath behind him, mumbling a quiet fuck under his breath.

“It’s flooded,” Minho said dumbly. “How am I supposed to leave?”

“I could try to follow you until you get to the main road, but I really don’t think it’s safe.” Chan rubbed the back of his neck, giving Minho an apologetic look. “The stream floods with heavy storms like this one. If I’d known it was going to be this bad, I would have cancelled.”

Minho forced himself to breathe. He wanted to insist that he would be fine, that he’d driven in storms before, but he also knew that the unfamiliar dirt roads out here were a far cry from the nice, paved ones he was used to in Seoul. “So I’m stuck here?” 

“Kind of?” Chan winced. “I’m really sorry. We have a guest room we can set you up in! It has a separate bathroom and everything, so you don’t have to worry about your privacy.”

This was a nightmare. He looked back at the window, hoping for a moment that maybe the rain would miraculously lighten up and he could be on his way in a few hours. Instead there was another flash of lightning, and it started pouring even harder. 

“I don’t even have clothes,” he said, voice pinched. 

“You can borrow some of Hyunjin’s,” Chan offered. “He won’t mind, and he should be about your size. If not you can always try mine or Bin-ah’s.”

Minho dug his nails into his palms. “How long does the flooding take to clear?”

“It depends how long the storm lasts, but usually it’s only a day. Sometimes two,” he added that last bit in a rush, like he was hoping Minho wouldn’t hear it. 

“Two days?”

“We’ll pay you overtime for the inconvenience. Whatever you want.”

Minho wasn’t concerned about money. He had plenty of that. It was the fact that he was stuck here, unable to do anything even if he wanted to leave that bothered him. He’d never done well being forced into things—it was the reason he was kicked out of the expensive omega etiquette lessons his parents made him attend as a pup. 

He wanted to stay annoyed, but it wouldn’t change anything. The storm was still raging, the road still flooded, and there was nothing to be done about it. He was pathetically reminded of the fact that there was nothing waiting for him at home anyway. He didn’t have a pack, let alone a mate, and his knothead ex had stolen his fucking cat during their breakup. He spent most of his days totally, completely alone.

Maybe it would do him some good to be surrounded by people for once. And it could be a good opportunity for him to observe Jeongin, maybe get a better idea of the symptoms he was experiencing.

“Thank you,” he said, forcing himself not to sound as frustrated as he actually was. He was sure his scent was giving him away, but the dampeners he sprayed on that morning should have still been helping. He set his bags back down, clearing his throat. “Well. This is certainly a first for me.”

Chan gave a dry smile. “Us too. I promise we don’t make a habit out of holding our guests hostage.”

“I’m just special?” Minho asked, forgetting himself for a moment. Chan didn’t even blink.

“You’re definitely special,” he agreed easily, and as his heart nearly stuttered to a stop, Minho realized he was in bigger trouble than he thought. 

Chapter Text

The last time Minho woke up in a bed that wasn’t his own, wearing clothes that smelled like someone else, he had to do the walk of shame out of a suite in the Four Seasons in Seoul. It was, as most people would call it, his rock bottom. 

Waking up alone in the Bang pack’s cushy guest bedroom in a pair of Hyunjin’s joggers and Changbin’s shirt was definitely less embarrassing than that whole ordeal, but he felt a familiar sense of dread. He sat up slowly, sparing a glance toward the set of large windows. The curtains were mostly closed, but there was enough of a gap that he could see raindrops still steadily rolling down the glass. Any hope he had of making it home today vanished.

“What a fucking mess,” he mumbled to himself, rubbing a hand over his face. 

He allowed himself five solid minutes of moping before he actually forced himself up and out of bed, shuffling into the attached bathroom. It was massive, easily the size of the kitchen back in his apartment—and his place wasn’t small by any means. There was a tub, a shower, and two vanities, all of it without the space feeling cramped. He’d known they were wealthy, but he was beginning to realize just how much money they actually had.

He made quick work of doing his business, washing his hands, and splashing some cold water on his face. Back home he had had a whole multi-step skincare routine, but here he just made do with the cleanser and moisturizer they’d supplied for him. He took a few minutes to carefully clean the wounds on his arm again while he was at it. They weren’t as inflamed as he would have expected, but they were still red and puffy around the edges, an early sign of infection. He made a mental note to call a prescription in for himself as soon as he was able to actually leave.

Then he went downstairs to face reality.

“Good morning!” Felix said brightly as he walked into the kitchen. He was at the stove, cooking up something that smelled delicious. 

“Morning,” Minho responded, because he’d hardly consider it a good one. He spotted Chan and Seungmin seated at the table and Jeongin crammed under it, so he opted to take a seat at the kitchen island like yesterday. “Is everyone else still sleeping?”

Felix hummed in confirmation. “We’ll be lucky to see Jisung before noon, but Hyunjin and Changbin should be up in a bit. Did you sleep alright?”

He’d slept fantastic, actually. The mattress and bedding set were clearly from luxury brands, because it felt like laying on a cloud. “Yes, thank you. Is there anything I can help with?”

“No, no. I’ve got it. You’re our guest.” Felix’s smiled turned sheepish. “And I like handling breakfast on my own.”

“He hates when we crowd his kitchen,” Seungmin said, glancing up from… Minho squinted, then blinked. It looked like he was working on a crossword in English. He really was a brainiac. “We’re only allowed to help with dinner.”

“Cooking helps me relax,” Felix shrugged.

“I went out and checked the driveway about an hour ago,” Chan said suddenly, looking at Minho. His expression was one of pure guilt. “I’m really sorry, but I don’t think it’ll be safe for you to drive home today. It’s still raining, which is obviously making the flooding worse–”

“It’s fine,” Minho interrupted. “Really.”

Thankfully he was a good liar. Chan’s shoulders slumped with obvious relief, a nervous chuckle escaping. “You’re being so kind about all of this. We– really. We’re so grateful to you.”

“Hyung,” Seungmin drawled from beside him, “you’re making him blush. Stop it.”

Minho brought a hand up to his neck. Sure enough it was on fire. “Ah, I just run warm,” he managed. Another lie. He was always freezing. It was a running joke back at the hospital, that he wa some sort of human air conditioned. He’d even kept a blanket at his desk to wrap around himself while he worked on patient notes.

He distracted himself by letting his eyes wander down to Jeongin. He was curled up into a ball, his face a few shades too pale for Minho’s liking. The nausea must have been bad again, and he clicked his tongue in sympathy. “Have you eaten?”

Jeongin shook his head timidly. His cheek was smushed against one of his knees. 

“He’s been up since four,” Chan said with a sympathetic grimace, though judging by the dark circles under his eyes, he’d stayed up with him. “He was sick for almost two hours, and he’s still feeling nauseous.”

Minho frowned. “Any other symptoms? Headache? New soreness? Cramps?”

“He was complaining about a headache. I figured it was from dehydration, so I got him to suck on some ice chips a while ago.”

“It probably is. That was smart,” Minho praised, but he was mentally cursing the storm for an entirely new reason now. The longer he was here, the longer it would take to get the bloodwork results and figure out exactly how to help Jeongin. “We’ll get you feeling better soon, Jeongin-ah. I promise. In the meantime, do you think you could try and eat some rice?”

Jeongin shook his head.

“Maybe just some meat, then?” Minho pressed. “I think having something in your stomach might help.”

Jeongin’s upper lip curled, though not in an aggressive way. He looked a bit like an annoyed pup testing out their growl for the first time. Felix sucked in an audible breath from the other side of the island, but Minho gave an amused smile.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“We have some in the fridge,” Seungmin said, already standing up. “I’ll grab it for him.”

“Get him some more ice chips too,” Minho added, realizing a moment after that it wasn’t his place to be bossing any member of their pack around. “If you don’t mind.”

Seungmin didn’t seem offended at all. He gave a mock salute, heading for the fridge. Felix slid a plate of pancakes over to him, already drizzled with a small amount of syrup and some cut up strawberries. “How’s your arm feeling?” He asked, starting to pass Chan and Seungmin their plates too.

“It’s fine,” Minho waved him off. “I changed the bandage before I came down. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

There was a constant sting, but he’d hardly consider it actual pain. As much as the pack loved Jeongin, they were clearly uncomfortable with his more aggressive side. It would only make things worse if he whined about the scratches when they weren’t even that bad. 

“Are you sure? Because–”

“I’m sure,” Minho interrupted, not rude but firm. He glance down at Jeongin, and sure enough he appeared to have curled in on himself a little more. “It doesn’t even make the list of top five injuries I’ve gotten from patients.”

Felix’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Pregnancy and birth are extremely vulnerable experiences. It would take a lot for me to judge anyone, least of all one of my patients, for the reactions they may have.” Minho calmly took a bite of his pancakes, giving a surprised hun. “These are delicious, Felix. Thank you.”

Felix simply gaped at him though—along with Seungmin and Chan. “It’s not okay for people to hurt you, Minho.”

“Most of them were accidents.”

“That doesn’t make it better!”

“It does.” Minho set his fork down, his patience wearing thin. “I’ve only ever dismissed three patients from my care for inappropriate conduct. An omega mother who slapped me for advising further genetic testing be done after we detected some abnormalities on one of her ultrasounds; an alpha mother who kicked me in the face during a cervix check because she didn’t like that I wouldn’t approve an induction at thirty-four weeks; and an omega father who threw multiple items at me during our intake appointment because their alpha partner tried to flirt with me.”

He looked at each of them seriously, and said as clearly as possible, “I know what my limits are. I’m capable of maintaining professional boundaries. If this is going to work, then I need your pack to respect that. Jeongin-ah’s reactions are instinctual, not angry or spiteful. I’m never going to condemn him for something out of his control, and I think it’s in all of our best interests if you try not to either.”

He finished his mini-speech by picking up his fork and taking another bite. The pancakes really were delicious, even better than the ones he’d gotten at a diner during his last trip overseas.

“I’m sorry,” Chan said at last, his shoulders hunched. He was a true pack leader, the first to take responsibility. “You’re right.”

“I’m sorry too,” Felix frowned, wringing his hands together. “I wasn’t trying to disrespect you. I was just… worried about you.”

Minho hummed quietly. “I appreciate that, but you really don't have to be. I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can,” Chan said quickly. 

“We’re all kind of in awe of you,” Seungmin said bluntly. He was crouched down now, setting a cup of ice chips and a plate of meat in front of Jeongin. 

“Seungmin—”

“What? Do you want him to think we’re a bunch of controlling knotheads?” Seungmin stood up, his expression neutral. “You’re an impressive person and you’re doing something unbelievably kind for us by agreeing to take Yen-ie’s case. It’s kind of messed with our instincts. We actually had a whole talk about it last night after you went to bed.”

Minho blinked. He supposed that made a lot more sense, and he should have thought of that before coming down on them so hard. It wasn’t unusual for packs to mistakenly recognize as a caregiver as one of their own. He had to sit through multiple trainings about how to appropriately handle such situations, and he felt like an idiot for not thinking of it first. He seemed to have forgotten that as much as Jeongin was going through this, they were too—just in a different way. “Ah,” he breathed out. “I see.”

He looked down at Jeongin. He was gnawing on a small strip of meat, his face still pale. 

“Good job, Yen-ah,” he murmured. He had to fight the urge to reach out and give him a pat on the head. “You’re doing well.”

Jeongin didn’t verbally respond, but his lips curled ever so slightly at the edges, his eyes squinting. It was barely a smile, but it was there. 

Minho took a breath, before lifting his gaze again. Chan, Felix, and Seungmin were all staring at him expectantly, and he knew he owed them a response. The problem was that he really didn’t know what to say. “I think,” he began slowly, “that we understand each other a little better now.”

“We’ll pass along what you shared to the others,” Chan said, “just to avoid any future misunderstandings.”

Minho nodded. He pursed his lips, scooping another bite onto his fork. “I’m not a hypocrite. What I said about not holding people responsible for things they can’t control applies to all of you too. It’s not uncommon for packs to form temporary bonds with caregivers in situations like yours, and I should have been more aware of that.”

Chan’s eyes widened slightly. “You think it’s a temporary bond?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Minho shrugged. It would be near impossible to distinguish unless they went to a specialist, but he didn’t see the need for all of that. Odds were, once the pups were born and he slowly phased out of their lives again, the situation would resolve itself. He told them as much, but as he did, he picked up on a souring vanilla scent—Jeongin’s.

“Are you feeling sick again? Is it too much?” He asked in concern, checking on him. He seemed to be sucking on an ice chip, but his expression was pinched. “I know it’s hard, but I just don’t want you getting anymore dehydrated than you already are.”

He couldn’t imagine trying to place an IV on him, even if he did have the necessary supplies.

Jeongin stared at him with those big eyes for an impossibly long moment. Then he slowly scooted forward until he was at the foot of Minho’s stool, and carefully rested his head against his left calf. He rubbed his cheek against the fabric of the joggers he was wearing.

“I smell like pack today, huh?” Minho murmured, not moving an inch lest he present as a threat. Despite his assurances, getting scratched wasn’t an experience he was looking to repeat. Mostly to himself, he thought aloud, “I wonder if wearing clothes with familiar scents would help us with future examinations. It might be worth a shot.”

“Yeah,” Seungmin agreed, something in his tone that Minho couldn’t quite read. “It just might be.”