Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It felt like failure, at this point.

Hyeonjoon knew that wasn't fair to anyone in the situation, but there was nothing else he could convince himself to call a packmate locked away and in pain while the rest of them ran around helplessly. They didn't even know where to start with trying to find Sanghyeok's alpha. Didn't even know how much time he really had before rejection sickness kicked in and his fever started doing damage nothing could undo.

It was easy to forget presentation was dangerous, was the thing. Hyeonjoon's own had gone so smoothly, had been all but effortless beyond the effort required once they got safely behind a locked door where the itching paranoia finally quieted enough to focus on what really mattered; Wooje. His mate, in his arms, where he was supposed to be. After that had been a mess of burning instinct and touch, cool sheets and quiet laughter, of them together in a way Hyeonjoon hadn't known he'd been missing.

This was nothing like that.

Sanghyeok wasn't eating. Had barely had any water in the last few hours, apparently, and had vitals unlike anything Hyeonjoon had ever seen.

Hyeonjoon wasn't supposed to go down that hallway, not when there was any risk of his scent bothering Sanghyeok or of Sanghyeok's pheromones in turn impacting him, but the same drive that had him walking at the back of the group on team outings had screamed that he needed to check on his packmate himself. There was no way he could satisfy the urge entirely, couldn't go in there and see with his own eyes what needed to be done to start making things right and stop the choking smell of cherry blossoms from getting any worse, but he could at least listen outside his door to reassure himself that their hyung was still holding on. He hadn't meant to intrude, just make his own head quiet enough that he could stay focused on finding a real solution.

He hadn't expected to hear screaming from behind the painted wood. Muffled, like there was something shoved in his mouth maybe, but still a distinctive wailing note that sank like a half dozen Kallista spears into Hyeonjoon's chest. His packmate was in pain, was suffering, needed his help.

Hyeonjoon was right here and had never walked away from someone he loved asking for his support.

Under absolutely no circumstances could he open that door.

Fuck.

Hyeonjoon didn't know how long it took, but he finally tore himself away from the door and turned back to the living room. There was nothing he could do there, no matter what he heard.

When he got back, Minseok and Minhyung were still missing, and Wooje was staring at Minseok’s phone, poking it occasionally. Absurd as it was, Deft getting back to them with a name may be their only option unless they wanted to start polling Sanghyeok’s friends for someone willing to come help. The thought of choosing something like that without his input, deciding on their own who their hyung was going to spend the rest of his life tied to coiled like a snake in Hyeonjoon’s stomach. It wasn’t fair, not to any of them.

Wasn’t pack supposed to protect each other? What was the point of these bonds if they still couldn’t even be in the same room when one of them was in pain?

It didn’t make any sense. And it hurt.

There was only one thing he could even do. He plunked down onto the couch next to Wooje and slipped an arm around his waist, shoving his face into Wooje’s neck for a bit of self-soothing. Wooje tipped his head slightly like a reflex, giving Hyeonjoon enough space to nose towards his scent glands.

Even then, the familiar sweetness had an almost singed quality to it that grated along Hyeonjoon’s frayed nerves. He didn’t realize he was whining until Wooje buried a hand in his hair and guided him up into a kiss. The motion was easy, familiar, and almost enough to make him forget what a shitshow they were dealing with.

Almost.

They broke apart after a beat, Wooje’s scent a little more settled and Hyeonjoon feeling less like he was about to fly out of his skin, and looked at each other for a moment.

“We’re going to get through this, right?” Wooje asked quietly, as his thumb stroked up and down just beneath Hyeonjoon’s hairline. He still sounded scared.

Hyeonjoon closed his eyes, just for a moment to try to quiet the rising ghost of Sanghyeok’s scream. It didn’t work, not when he couldn’t be sure that the real thing had truly stopped. He reached out and wove his fingers in Wooje’s, squeezing just enough to show that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere. That they were in this together. “Yeah.”

Wooje tugged on their joined hands and Hyeonjoon responded like breathing, pressing foreheads together and schooling his breathing. "We have no idea how we’re going to do that, though.”

A laugh, strangled and nervous but honest and theirs. “Nope, not a clue. But we’ll wait for the others to get back, and we’ll figure something. We’ve got this.”

Despite how badly he wanted Wooje to believe him, how much he needed what he was saying to be true, the words tasted sour and hollow. If the situation was really as bad as Wooje’s fitness tracker suggested, was really as bad as it had sounded, then Hyeonjoon wasn’t sure they’d have time to try anything after their first option.

Whatever they decided to do, Sanghyeok couldn’t afford for them to be wrong.

In his peripheral vision, Minseok’s cellphone winked out.

Before they could even start to panic about forgetting about their literal lifeline, a door deeper in the apartment cracked open and the equally worrying scents of wilting jasmine and sun-dried grass crept into the space, tricky to pick out under all the cherry blossom, but definitely still their unhappy packmates followed quickly by the players themselves.

Maybe their ‘talk’ hadn’t managed to work everything out, or maybe they were also just sick of playing the waiting game.

Either way, Hyeonjoon scooched both himself and Wooje sideways a little to give the bot duo a bit of couch space if they wanted it. They’d be pressed right up against his side, but personally, he’d kind of appreciate the extra closeness with the healthy members of his pack while their captain was out of commission. Even just being able to see them was helping a little with the sinking pit in his gut he was trying to ignore.

Minseok and Minhyung exchanged a look, but didn’t sit down.

“We’ve been talking,” Minhyung started carefully, one arm still looped around Minseok’s waist. “And we think we might have to discuss the possibility that we won’t find his catalyst.”

Even though he’d just been thinking the same thing, the admission from their steady ADC was a stab of ice. Sanghyeok wasn’t okay, wasn’t going to be okay.

Against his side, Wooje shuddered, just once, before focusing back on the next step. “We’re calling the hospital then? Wait times are going to be long, so the sooner the better, right?”

Minseok grimaced and tightened his own grip on Minhyung’s shirt. “I looked it up. Do you know what typical treatment is for an unmated presentation heat?”

Hyeonjoon was getting a bad feeling about this. It wasn’t that different from the bad feeling that had clung to his shoulders since finding out this morning what had happened, but this was sharper, like he was about to find out something that he couldn’t unknow. Still, if it was about their hyung he needed to hear it. He shook his head and tried to breathe through the sense of impending doom.

“For omegas without a mate, hospitals will-“ Minseok’s voice broke and a wave of unhappy bitterness rolled off of him, mixing nauseatingly with the burnt blossoms already drenching the space. Minhyung’s hand rubbed circles into his hip, even as Hyeonjoon tightened his own hold on Wooje reflexively. “They’ll tie them to a bed, put them in a collar and on an IV for fluids and medication, and bring in muzzled staff to knot them until the fever breaks.”

A moment of horrified silence as Hyeonjoon tried to process that, tried to make sense of the image of someone so vulnerable and desperately in need of help being treated like, like-

“Why would they do that?” Hyeonjoon didn’t realize he’d spoken until the words were already out. He couldn’t help it though, could barely hear over the echo of Sanghyeok’s scream, except in his head now it wasn’t muffled at all because he was trapped on his back under a stranger, alone and in pain and far from his pack. “We can’t- We can’t let them do that.”

“Sanghyeok-hyung would hate it,” Wooje’s voice was small but his hand around Hyeonjoon’s arm was like steel, and he was shaking.

Minseok nodded slightly, his jaw tightening. “Apparently it’s for their own safety. Knotting alone does enough to break the fever if you keep at it, but omega’s get frustrated without a bite, so they sometimes try to take off their own collars and force a mating, or try to scratch open their scent glands. It’s… It’s apparently a pretty common reaction.”

“But that’s it?” Hyeonjoon asked, a pit of dread stretching wide in his chest. “If we don’t find his catalyst, it’s that or start asking around for volunteers instead?”

The alternative didn’t do anything to soothe the cold fear. Unfamiliar and clinical in a hospital, or hoping for the best from someone that at least knew Sanghyeok before but hadn’t expressed any interest? Both options seemed like they were gambling with Sanghyeok’s life, and neither could be sure that he’d be mentally in one piece at the end. Hyeonjoon had no idea which their hyung would prefer, as awful as it would be to ask him to choose which torment to endure.

He had never felt so useless.

Minseok and Minhyung exchanged another look, this one with a thread of discomfort and determination. “No, those aren’t our only choices.”

“What?” Wooje asked, startled out of his seething melancholy. “What else can we do?”

Minhyung rolled his shoulders slightly and leveled them both with a serious stare. “You know how for Wooje’s last heat you guys spent the day before going through and stealing everyone’s clothes?”

Hyeonjoon’s cheeks burned at the reminder. Wooje had caught his preheat early, which gave them extra time to build a nest, but with the extra time had come extra pickiness until he’d been micromanaging the angle of every blanket, arranging and rearranging things in a spiral of frustration as nothing seemed to quite satisfy what he needed to feel safe.

At least, until Hyeonjoon had come into the nesting room from going through the team house’s shared bedding cupboard downstairs and Wooje had immediately insisted that his shirt needed to be added to their nest. They hadn’t realized why initially, but when Wooje got frustrated with that very same shirt after only about twenty-five minutes and Hyeonjoon had caught a whiff of Minseok’s scent from the hem, he realized that he’d gently hip-checked the other omega on his way through the living room to the elevator up and he went running.

Minseok had squinted at him initially, but once Hyeonjoohn explained, had let him swipe a pair of sweatpants from his closet, and had given him one of Minhyung’s scarves. Sanghyeok had been more confused than anything by the sudden invasion of his room, but had acquiesced to Hyeonjoon nosing through his closet, sniffing everything at least twice, only to eventually go to his laundry and snag a sweater that had enough of his weaker, unpresented scent to really be distinctly his. Hyeonjoon had sprinted back upstairs with them, and when Wooje immediately began working them into one of the walls he’d thought that maybe that was that.

Of course, only another few minutes later the frustration was back, as Wooje kept moving them around, trying to get the most coverage out of each item as possible.

Hyeonjoon had spent the rest of the day ferrying various pieces of clothing up and down from the nesting rooms, as Wooje found the right balance of pack and mate to settle back and let his heat overtake him.

It had been a good one, once everything was finally right, and Hyeonjoon could admit that having the gentle reminder of their pack just lingering at the edges of his awareness, the knowledge that there were people that he could trust keeping an eye out for them while he saw to meeting Wooje’s needs, had soothed a nerve he hadn’t even realized was frayed. Wooje seemed to appreciate the extra reassurance as well, had sometimes just taken a moment to brush his fingers across a stolen shirt, as if checking it was still there, before they’d carried on satiating their cycles together.

He wasn’t sure what that had to do with helping Sanghyeok without a mate though.

“Well, Minseokie and I did the same for my last rut and it really helped with grounding whenever one of us had to get up for water or something,” Minhyung continued.

“Wait, is that what happened to my pajamas and the living room blanket?” Wooje interrupted, still leaning into Hyeonjoon even as his shaking had calmed down. “And anyways, I think Sanghyeok-hyung is going to need a little more than grounding.”

Minseok smiled a little, warm but still kind of awkward, like it was an effort to stay positive. “When we realized today what exactly medical help would look like if Sanghyeok’s heat gets bad enough, I figured we had to at least check that there was really nothing we could do without getting other people involved. I mean, packs used to survive unexpected presentations, right? Surely they didn’t always make an arranged mating out of it, though that was definitely the most common solution.”

Somewhere in the back of Hyeonjoon’s head, a little warning bell started going off.

“The thing is, technically pack can help with a presentation to buy time to find a long term plan for mating, it just comes with risks,” Minhyung said tugging Minseok tighter into his side. “Risks to existing bonds, risks about making new ones, and risks about safety. But if we can manage those risks, we should be able to break Sanghyeok-hyung’s heat on our own. No outsiders, no hospitals.”

Hyeonjoon blinked as the pieces came together. “You’re not suggesting-“

“If I go in there, I’m pretty sure it’ll start a sympathy-heat,” Minseok cut him off, voice tight but steady. “They’re not common, but I think we’re close enough that my omega will recognize his in need, and will start calling out for help. And if I go into heat, Minhyung’s rut will follow.”

“Okay, but if the goal is just to put Minhyung in rut and have him help hyung, why do you need to be there? Unless you want to supervise I guess…” Wooje’s face scrunched, and Hyeonjoon could relate but honestly he was still too caught up on the suggestion to even feel anything about it yet. It just seemed so absurd. How was this better than any of their other terrible options?

Minhyung shook his head. “Risk management. If I go into rut for Sanghyeok-hyung it might try to compete with my bond with Minseok, but if I go into rut for my mate, and there just happens to be an omega from my pack that needs help as well, one that Minseokie wants me to help, then I should be able to provide some relief without confusing my alpha too much. It’s old-fashioned, but it should work.”

The words ‘some relief’ bounced around the inside of Hyeonjoon’s head like a screensaver. What did that even mean? What was ‘some’ when Sanghyeok was in so much pain? Would it be enough? One omega in heat could be a handful, how exactly did Minhyung expect to keep two satisfied and safe and fed? And if he couldn’t how much damage might a bad shared heat do to his bond with Minseok? Hyeonjoon had heard enough horror stories about poorly handled estrus cycles doing permanent damage to mating bonds that he’d always been a little extra anxious around his own ruts, just in case he fucked something up. Fucking this one up would be so much worse, and Hyeonjoon knew he certainly wouldn’t feel up to the task on his own.

Meanwhile Wooje’s gaze sharpened as he looked at their bot duo contemplatively. “But there’s still the risk to your bond, especially if Sanghyeok freaks out and tries to force a mating, right?”

Minseok shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, it’s still a risk. The combination of my heat pheromones with Minhyung’s rut should register to him as pack not a true prospective mate, but there’s no way to be sure until we’re in there and there’s always the chance Minhyung gets… fixated if our heats do end up competitive instead of sympathetic.”

“Would it lower those risks,” Wooje started cautiously, like he was testing the words as he said them. “If we could make it clearer to everyone that this is a pack-helping-pack thing?”

That warning bell was back, louder now, and Hyeonjoon wasn’t sure what to do with the tension building up along his spine.

“I mean,” Wooje shifted in place, leaning forward and planting one hand on Hyeonjoon’s thigh for balance. “Part of what I like about having things from everyone in my nest is the completeness of it. It wouldn’t be right if it smelled like me, Hyeonjoon, and then just one of you guys. It wouldn’t even be right if it was just two of you. Having everyone’s scent is kind of the point.”

“Are you offering to go grab your laundry?” Minhyung asked carefully, and a part of Hyeonjoon hoped Wooje would say ‘yes’ because he could see what his mate was thinking, and he wasn’t prepared to acknowledge it as a real option just yet.

Wooje shook his head and levered himself upright. “I’m saying maybe we should help. I bet Sanghyeok-hyung’s could kick me into a sympathy-heat too, and then we’d all be there to make sure nobody gets competitive and nothing weird happens.”

“Nothing weird?” Hyeonjoon craned his neck to stare at the side of his mate’s face. “This entire situation is weird! I’m pretty sure none of us have ever thought about hyung that way before and now we’re all talking about, what, several days of pheromone-crazy group sex to make sure he doesn’t overheat and die?”

“Of course we’ve never considered it before,” Minhyung snapped, grip on Minseok flexing, tight and loose, tight and loose. “But if it’s a stranger tying him to a bed, someone looking to take advantage of Sanghyeok-hyung while he’s vulnerable, or us; what would you prefer? At least I know we care about what happens to him when this is all over."

The thing was, Hyeonjoon could see the argument. If it was all five of them and both Wooje and Minseok also needed it would keep both alphas too busy to fight each other or to get too fixated on the wrong omega. If someone needed a break, there would always be someone on hand to help either by tapping in or by making sure they were hydrated, and sure omegas weren’t able to satisfy each other’s pheromone-needs without special supplies, but they could take the edge of the worst of each others’ heats while Hyeonjoon and Minhyung saw to fetching the things that they would definitely end up needing if they really meant to ride out everyone’s entire cycles.

It would probably be awkward and uncomfortable, and it could go really badly if they didn’t sync up the way everyone was banking on, but it could work.

Fuck knew what it would do to their team synergy after the fact, though.

Wooje still had one hand on his leg, stable and warm, and now he was meeting his gaze. He tipped his head to the side, just enough to flash their bond-bite.

Hyeonjoon exhaled, long and heavy, and it had the side effect of making him take in another lungful of burning cherry blossoms. Less than thirty feet away, Sanghyeok might be screaming again. He tried to picture their captain being carried out on a stretcher, picture him spending as long as it took, scared and surrounded by strangers touching, touching, touching him until his body stopped self- destructing. He thought about who they could even ask to try bonding with Sanghyeok instead. Which of his friends were single, and which would even consider it. Who could they even trust not to ruin Sanghyeok’s life as soon as the heat died down?

He thought about their team, their pack. About Wooje’s last heat and how it felt to know they were safe in part because they weren’t completely alone. He tried to imagine Minhyung seeing Wooje when he was like that, seeing Minseok in heat himself. He thought about what it would do to their careers if this went badly. He thought about late-game Baron flips and impossible kill angles.

"Yeah, okay," Hyeonjoon agreed, stretching a hand out to take Minhyung’s hand and pull him down onto the couch. "Better us than them."

Of course, that’s when Minseok’s phone vibrated off the couch, landing face up.

Deft was calling.

Chapter Text

The sound of the phone hitting the floor was a bucket of cold water. They could spend all day talking about internal solutions and strategies, but that didn’t stop the outside world from existing and if Deft had found something then maybe they really did have a chance at getting this sorted the way it was supposed to go.

Minseok scooped the phone, answering the call and putting it on speaker in one motion. “Hyukkyu-hyung do you have good news?”

A pause that was just about enough to send Hyeonjoon’s heartrate skyrocketing again, and then–

“His catalyst is Jihoon,” Hyukkyu didn’t sound overly thrilled, but Hyeonjoon was about ready to cheer. “But he’s on his way to the hospital right now.”

Of course it couldn’t be that easy. Fuck.

“The hospital?” Minseok managed not to shriek, but it was pretty close. He was definitely approaching supersonic at the very least. “Was his rut really that bad?”

Some rustling and wind noises, it sounded like maybe Deft was outside. “No, it seems like that much was normal enough, but there were some other presentations at their place and he and Siwoo got in a fight over Kiin.”

And Chovy lost? Huh. Hyeonjoon wouldn’t have thought Lehends had it in him. It was one thing to be capable of being an alpha, no matter what Minhyung had said earlier, and quite another to go up against a rival who was bigger than you and in rut. Hyeonjoon would know, though thankfully he no longer had the bruises to prove it.

“Is everyone okay?” Minhyung asked, which. Hyeonjoon had kind of assumed they were pretending not to be there for this call but alright. Sure.

Deft audibly sighed, the sound fuzzy through the speaker. “For the most part. Siwoo might be concussed, not that he’s letting anyone close enough to check now that he and Giin are holed up in his room, but Jihoon ended up with glass in his arms that needed to get treated. They called an ambulance that insisted on sedating him because he wasn’t cooperating. Apparently they’ll probably need to keep him for at least a thirty-six hours to make sure the medication doesn’t do anything weird with his rut.”

“So we’re taking hyung to the hospital after all. Which one do we need to meet them at?” Minseok still sounded worried, but his jasmine scent started to brighten a bit. It helped with the whole floor smelling like an on-fire rotting meadow. Hyeonjoon stuck his nose in the back of Wooje’s neck anyways. At least, even a little toasty, chocolate was relatively safe.

“That’s the thing,” Deft sounded farther away for a second, and there was the distinct ding of a train station. “You’re not.”

“Excuse me?”

More rustling, and the delay did nothing to help the way everything in the lounge seemed to go sharp. Was he fucking kidding them? Had something gone wrong, had Chovy mistaken Kiin for his catalyst and bit him before whatever happened with the glass? Hyeonjoon couldn’t decided between indignation and horror as it hit him. Maybe that was why Sanghyeok’s heat had gotten so bad so quickly, his body sensing it was losing its catalyst to someone else.

They might already be too late.

Before Hyeonjoon could spiral too far, Deft continued. “One of the possible medical side effects is basically indiscriminate aggression. His rut might try to go into overdrive to counter the medication and if it does he may end up completely out of it. Some cases can’t even identify their own mates and react badly to a ‘strange Omega’ approaching them. Given this is a presentation-“

“That could count as a rejection, and then they’d both be screwed.” Minseok finished.

“Yeah,” Deft agreed, moving away from the microphone again. “But the good news is that they should be able to discharge him straight to you guys. Once they know he’s clear, the hospital will give him a ride wherever since his hormones currently count as a biohazard. Can you guys keep your end of things stable until Friday morning?”

That was a funny way of saying ‘is he going to die’ but Hyeonjoon was glad he’d opted to be polite about it. The illusion let him pretend that they weren’t now staring down the barrel of a whole nother day of Sanghyeok suffering. A whole nother day of Sanghyeok’s fever ticking higher and higher, as his body tried to coax his catalyst closer.

Sanghyeok’s vitals were already bad. Hyeonjoon wasn’t actually confident he’d make it to Friday okay without some kind of help.

Fuck, someone was going to have to tell him what was going on. All of it. There was no way any of this would go over well, not the delay in getting him to his Alpha and not the offer they were going to have to make.

Did Sanghyeok even know that Jihoon was his catalyst?

Hyeonjoon hadn’t realized he was tensing up until a pressure he had stopped even noticing tightened around his hand. Right, he was still holding Minhyung’s hand, had been since agreeing to the- idea. It just. Hadn’t seemed like there was a good time to let go, so he hadn’t. A glance out of the corner of his eye told him Minhyung was still focused on Minseok and the phone, but his grip was warm and didn’t seem like it was going anywhere.

On his other side and still half on his lap, Wooje was a steady line of heat and comfort. Minseok’s scent curled around the whole couch, still not quite back to normal but so much better than it had been all day.

Even if it was terrible, they had a plan. They were together. That meant something.

“We can make it to Friday,” Minseok said at last. “Someone is going to need to phone us when Jihoon-hyung is on his way here though.”

"I can do that," Deft agreed easily, apparently not interested in any follow up questions because then it was cursory good byes and the call cut out.

Hyeonjoon stared at the quiet black glass of what was supposed to be a lifeline for just another second, in case it rang again to tell them it was all a joke and that, actually, Chovy was on his way now and this would all be over soon.

The phone stayed quiet.

Finally, Minseok tucked it away and sighed. "Alright, so let's talk mechanics."

--

It had been one thing to agree to make this happen when they’d kind of expected it to be their only option that they could live with, it was quite another to try to make a plan to get ready to actually do it when they knew they’d be a temporary measure while they waited for Sanghyeok’s actual mate to come get him.

For one it meant they were going to need to prepare at least two different rooms.

Hyeonjoon couldn’t really say how he was going to react to an omega under his care during a rut being removed from the where he could see them, but he felt pretty good about saying that there was going to need to be some steps taken between Sanghyeok being with his pack and being with Jihoon or odds were uncomfortably higher than zero that Jihoon might lose his shit in their direction. Even the thought of Wooje, in heat, showing up covered in other peoples’ scents was enough to have Hyeonjoon actively biting back a growl. As if he couldn’t take care of his own omega, as if his mate needed anyone else to get through a cycle, when all he needed to do was ask and Hyeonjoon would be more than happy to-

What he was saying was it would be a toss-up on whether Chovy would stay close to remedy the problem or if he would try to stash Sanghyeok somewhere his instincts deemed safe and go hunting to avenge the insult. And either way, it would make things awkward between them and Sanghyeok’s new mate for a while

So they needed to have a plan to get Sanghyeok out of wherever the pack ended up, cleaned up enough that it wouldn’t be an immediate declaration of war, and then safely in to whatever space he and Chovy would be spending the remainder of their presentations.

That was a lot of steps, and if the periodic distressed dings Wooje’s phone was making were any indication, the clock was ticking.

They went for the crossmap.

Minhyung and Hyeonjoon took the card to the floor and started transferring nesting materials up to the heatrooms. They may not be able to get the nest perfect, but they could at least get started on that while Minseok and Wooje went to talk to Sanghyeok about what his options were. If he refused, after all, they weren’t going to force it. They’d do their best to keep him hydrated until then and hope that the news that his alpha was coming would be enough for him to hold on.

It might work out, though Hyeonjoon couldn’t make himself be overly optimistic.

If he did agree to their insane plan, then Minseok and Wooje would spend the majority of the next hour soaking in pheromones and then they’d come out to start working on the nest with Minhyung downstairs to keep an eye on things and Hyeonjoon playing go-for. They’d swap out after about thirty minutes and by then they’d have some idea if the omegas were going into those sympathy heats or not.

The nest itself was… passable, probably. Between the two of them, they’d certainly seen enough nests to know the general shape and they had some idea of their own partners’ preferences, for all the good that did. Trying to figure out how to balance Minseok’s need to have hiding places and Wooje’s need to sprawl out as much as possible all while trying to make it both enclosed enough to feel safe and big enough to accommodate five people was harder than it looked and by the end of it Hyeonjoon was more than ready to go back to taking his omega’s instructions on blanket placement please.

Judging by the focused frustration on Minhyung’s face as he rearranged a mound of throw pillows for the fifteenth time, he was probably getting there too.

At least they’d mostly managed to agree as to placement of the scented pieces they’d pulled from around the living space. It had been weird at first but once they got into it Hyeonjoon could kind of smell the way their scents slotted together rather than competed with each other and it was surprisingly effective at soothing his deeply frazzled nerves. Their setup wasn’t quite right, he could tell, but whatever it was that they had done wrong, whatever it was that made the nest as it was itch ever so slightly, he just couldn’t put his finger on it and he knew from bashing his head against the walls of soloqueue hell that if he hadn’t gotten it by now he wasn’t going to on his own. He sure as hell wasn't going to ask a coach for tips.

Whatever it was, Wooje would probably be able to figure it out.

The easier end of things was actually the bathroom. They loaded up the usual scentless soaps but also added a few bottles of scent neutralizing soap with the hope that at least one of them would keep their head enough to use it when the time came to finally get Sanghyeok to his mate.

They had to debate where to set up the secondary room for Sanghyeok and Chovy to use once the alpha finally arrived. Simple logistics suggested they use the secondary heat rooms on the same floor, the ones that were smaller and meant for short-term emergencies when the main rooms were already in use. There was a bathroom and a minifridge though no true kitchen, and they were only usually stocked with the most basic of supplies, but the stocking issue could be easily fixed and the rooms were close enough a heat-addled Sanghyeok could probably make the walk himself if they were able to get some food and water in him over the next day and a half. Already the thought of their hyung, alone and vulnerable, stumbling down an isolated hallway, away from his friends, from their nest and into the arms of some jackass from another team scratched at the inside of Hyeonjoon’s throat but he swallowed past it.

The important thing was that no one else would be able to get to this floor and the door locked from the inside so it ought to feel safe enough for the pair to get through the rest of their presentations together.

Unfortunately, as Minhyung pointed out and Hyeonjoon kind of had to agree, the rooms were so close that some scent spillover between the two heat rooms was almost guaranteed and even if they got Sanghyeok cleaned up enough to keep Chovy off the war path, the nearby scent of other alphas in rut would be just as likely to spark aggression. Hyeonjoon was already unconvinced that their hyung would be entirely safe with Gen G’s midlaner, no matter what Minseok said about his trustworthiness, and he was even less confident the guy who spent years visibly hating Sanghyeok would be able to restrain himself properly in his very first rut with potential rivals nearby.

And that was without getting into what having a foreign alpha on the floor might do to the rest of them.

As things were, they were already planning on playing with a very careful balancing act of semi-conscious instinctive bonds and much more obvious biological bonds, and Hyeonjoon was man enough to admit there were about even odds on him getting embarrassingly clingy and his rut-stupid brain deciding that Minhyung was the foreign alpha invading the nest and picking a fight. Or, if whatever hindbrain truce between alphas they managed held steady, then maybe they’d convince themselves to go after Chovy together, and there was no way a 2-v-1 gank with everyone’s mates right there was going to end well for anybody.

That way lay madness and also probably all of them getting arrested. So, no can do with the secondary heat rooms.

The problem was that the only other place in the building either of them could agree was safe enough for their captain in heat was their living space and that was almost as uncomfortable to imagine. Sure, it would just be a quick elevator ride away, an elevator someone could even escort Sanghyeok to make sure he got there safely, and yes, they’d already taken steps to lock down the floor for, and yeah okay they had done a recent grocery shop so the kitchen was stocked enough that surely they could manage to feed themselves eventually, but.

Chovy cooties. In their space. Possibly on their couch.

Icky.

“So what are we supposed to do?” The blanket in Hyeonjoon’s hands did not answer, but Minhyung exhaled sharply beside him, which was slightly more helpful.

“I don’t want them doing this near my room any more than you do, but I don’t think we’re going to have a choice.” Minhyung’s heavy stare seemed to imply the pillow he was holding was somehow responsible for this injustice, but it kept its cool admirably well. “If we’re lucky our lingering scents will be enough to keep them mostly to Sanghyeok-hyung’s room so we won’t have to air everything out when we get back.”

Hyeonjoon grimaced. They were going to have to do so much cleaning at the end of all of this no matter what, and post-rut sensitivity always made him sneeze uncontrollably at harsh scents. Cleaning chemicals were not his friends. “Someone else with elevator access will need to be waiting around to get Chovy up there. And either we leave the front door unlocked or we give hyung the key when we send him down and hope he remembers how to use it.”

“One of us could escort him down, get him settled, and then come back upstairs,” Minhyung pointed out, strategically tucking a towel about halfway up the current pillow mound he was working on. “I can usually figure out doors in rut.”

“And you’d be okay with leaving Minseok upstairs with Wooje and I while you do that?” Hyeonjoon wasn’t sure what to think about that. The thought burned, but in kind of a good way? Like hot water on freezing fingers but all up the back of his neck and down his spine.

Minhyung twitched slightly, like he was trying to dislodge something sticky and pointed, and his jaw flexed. “If we can pull this whole thing off, then yeah. I trust you guys and it shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes. We just have to convince my stupid instincts that rut doesn’t change anything. Plus,” another quiet sigh and the scent of grass intensified like there was someone nearby with a weedwhacker and a grudge against the lawn. Another day it would have been suffocating; now Hyeonjoon’s focus just sharpened. “I’m not so sure I’ll be able to let hyung leave otherwise. If he just… walks out, after a day of us taking care of him, still in heat and not even smelling like us anymore, I think I’ll chase. Even with Minseokie staying in the nest, even knowing that it’s the plan and for the best, I…”

Hyeonjoon waited for him to finish, waited as his grip tightened and loosened around a lilac throw pillow, waited as he seemed to chew through the words before finally looking up. “It sounds stupid but you know I want you all to be safe, right? Not just Minseokie and not just on the Rift. You’re my teammates, you’re my friends, you’re- you’re all a little bit mine and I know we’re adults who can take care of ourselves and Sanghyeok-hyung is way older than us, but there’s so many people that suck and sometimes the only way to really be sure any of you are okay is to see it myself, you know?”

He did know. It was the exact same instinct that had him doing head counts before getting on planes, that had him watching any time anyone tried to approach his teammates in public, that had him feeling entirely at ease on the floor of a random warehouse with Wooje and Minseok chatting in arm’s reach, Minhyung’s leg a line of steady heat against his shoulder, and Sanghyeok’s soft breaths at his back.

It was the same instinct that had convinced him that this crazy scheme of theirs might work in the first place.

“Alright,” Hyeonjoon nodded. “That's the plan then. If I’m asleep, make sure you wake me up before you take hyung down though. I’ll freak out if you’re both suddenly gone, and I’d like to be awake to keep an eye out until-“

A tinny looping tune cut through Hyeonjoon’s words and both alphas looked down at the offending pocket of Minhyung’s pants.

That was the timer.

Time to go downstairs and either get going with the laneswap or start praying their hyung could hold on until Chovy got out of hospital.

Leaving the nest they’d spent the last hour on sat awkwardly in Hyeonjoon’s stomach, radiating a low, twisting anxiety that he wasn’t sure what to do with. The elevator ride was mercifully short, and despite the quiet there was something about the small-space-one-entrance-scent-of-pack that made it feel uncomfortably cramped and painfully empty all at once. Even if Sanghyeok decided to tough it out, Hyeonjoon might go spend some time upstairs with Wooje anyways, just to get his head on straight. If nothing else, the nest would be a good space to sort himself out.

Of course, if Sanghyeok said no, none of them were going to be leaving the living room for the next 36 hours except on pain of death, so. Maybe nest time would have to wait.

And anyways, this could work and would mean no looming spectre of death was necessary. It'd be fine, he told himself for the dozenth time since the living room.

He might have even believed it.

Minyung was first to the apartment, probably to prove that he was definitely capable of operating the door at least pre-rut, which he pulled off with all the grace of a Xayah W, only to stop dead in the doorway. Hyeonjoon opened his mouth to ask what the hold up was and nearly choked.

Chocolate-jasmine-cherry blossom flooded the hallway, none of the previous burning, just sweet-please-come-closer-help? so thick and inviting Hyeonjoon couldn’t be sure if he was actually salivating or if that was just the taste of flowers and cocoa and Omega want sliding between his teeth and weighing down his tongue.

He needed to be closer, needed to go to them, they needed-

Grass and petrichor, harsh and aggressive and a threat, the Omegas would smell it from here, it would scare them, this other Alpha would hurt them, Hyeonjoon just knew it and he let that surety rumble through his chest, let his own scent rise to meet the challenge, sun-warmed cedar heating up and up until sparks and cinders skimmed in to place to meet the wet, dangerous-

Minhyung.

Not a stranger, not an intruder, an Alpha he knew, a scent as familiar as the jasmine, more so than the cherries; a teammate that wouldn’t hurt their Omegas. Hyeonjoon clawed for the scrap of recognition before it could slide back into the soup of instinct, ruthlessly silencing his growl. They couldn’t fight, not here and not least because he’d get his ass kicked but also because the plan was clearly underway, Wooje needed him, their packmates needed them.

They needed to make this work.

Between him and the apartment, Minhyung was all Alpha. Lips curled to bare his teeth but quiet as a blow to the back of the head, eyes blown and sharp, his great shoulders wired tight and vicious. Everything from head to toe read threat and Hyeonjoon added the taste of his own blood to the cocktail in his mouth, biting his cheek to stop himself from reacting to the unspoken message to get away from his own mate, to leave or fight for the right to be here.

Hyeonjoon didn’t need to do that. He’d earned his place on this team years ago.

They all had.

Somewhere behind Minhyung, it was both their scents soaked into opposite couches, one at each entrance to the living room. Somewhere above them both, it was all of their scents together making the nest safe.

Hyeonjoon let the last of the bone-deep aggression melt away like so much glaze over fresh-cut edges. No challenge, no threat, just a hardwood home in the afternoon sun.

Minhyung blinked once. Twice.

His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. He took a step forward.

Hyeonjoon stayed where he was, ignoring the curl of sugary come-please-be-good? even as it gnawed at his restraint. Discipline, focus; he could do discipline. He could focus.

The immediate threat of teeth disappeared as Minhyung stepped closer again, leaning into the movement like he was looking for something. Hyeonjoon let him look and breathed through the encroaching scent. Touching grass was not his enemy and neither was Minhyung.

They hadn't been far from each other to start with, but now Minhyung was inches from his face, still on the edge of something, and it was everything Hyeonjoon could do to vibrate in place, head spinning in a dozen directions and his skin buzzing with the need to-

Boof.

A huff of air, right in his face, and a soft sub-vocal reprimand that he felt in his spine were all the warning Hyeonjoon got before a hand clamped around his upper arm and tugged him none-too-gently into the apartment, and it was sheer luck he was able to swing the door closed behind them. The scent of grass took on a dewy quality, less mid-storm and more just after sunrise. Minhyung bodily nudged him deeper into the apartment, herding him down the hallway where the tide of mate-pack-heat swelled higher and higher, the scent of another Alpha at his shoulder an unexpected anchor of not-alone-we’ll-fix-it-we’ll-help, and somewhere ahead of them there was a whine, sweet and high and seeking.

Without a thought, Hyeonjoon’s hand drifted up and back, hooking around Minhyung’s shoulder and a circuit of heat opened up, electric want running from one to the other and reaching out, deeper into the apartment searching for something to land on, and whatever grasp Hyeonjoon had on rationality cracked open.

Like a gun had gone off or the enemy team lost vision on Baron for a split second both Alphas moved in sync, dashing the last few steps of distance to the door hanging open and letting the bouquet of please-Alpha-help? spill out. This close the separate scents were clearer; demanding chocolate all here-now-touch-me more familiar in that moment than his own name; full, coaxing jasmine calling aren’t-i-pretty-look-come-see; and softer, cherry blossom begging lonely-hurts-please-don’t-go, still faintly ashy with pain and longing.

Hyeonjoon’s jaw ached.

Inside the room was hot and dim, the blankets shoved aside to make space and the Omegas piled onto the bed in various states of dress. Most easily visible was Wooje draping himself over seemingly as much of the bed and the others as he could manage, down to a t-shirt and his boxers with one hand wrapped around Minseok’s forearm, idly rubbing the glands at their wrists together and loosing wave after wave of rich, lazy need into the air. Wooje’s face was half tucked into a curled-up mound of breathing black fabric, nuzzling at it in slow, syrupy movements. Minseok meanwhile, seemed to have lost his shirt and was a stretch of flushed skin wrapped around a pillow, one arm left out to Wooje and his legs entangled with a third pair, coiling up and down, ankle-calf-knee-thigh-knee-calf-ankle, dragging skin against skin like he couldn’t get enough of the sensation.

Behind him, Minhyung started rumbling, a deep rolling purr like a hand at the back of Hyeonjoon’s neck, a little awkward but warm, and the two visible Omega’s perked up from their sprawls, finally revealing Sanghyeok beneath them. He whined at the disruption, a fragile, desperate sound that immediately had Wooje flopping back down. Minseok crooned, ducking down under Sanghyeok’s pulled up hood and whispering something too quiet to hear before pulling back far enough to peek at the doorway.

“Minhyungie,” he singsonged, fingers scratching lightly at Wooje’s wrist, filling the air with chocolate-mate-touch-me and pulling a whimper from Hyeonjoon’s throat. “Take us to our nest, please?”

Chapter Text

Hyeonjoon honestly could not have described what happened next if there was alifelong Lee Sin ban to his head.

One minute he was in the doorway and the next he had one knee on the bed and Wooje’s tongue in his mouth, with very little in between.

Somewhere to his left, Minhyung was still rumbling, and Minseok was purring in concert, a soothing twin thrum that nestled somewhere between Hyeonjoon’s shoulders and let him focus entirely on getting his hands on Wooje’s hips, his chest, up the back of his shirt.

The world narrowed down to soft skin, soft lips, soft sounds all of it his, all for him and it was everything he’d ever wanted pressing back against him as hot and desperate as he felt. Hyeonjoon knew distantly there was something he was supposed to be doing, somewhere they were supposed to be, but how could anything ever compare to this, to the nip of Wooje’s teeth against his mouth, to the drag of his nails through Hyeonjoon’s hair. Whatever it was couldn’t be that important, not when Wooje was here, needing, whatever it was could wait-

A whimper, low and wet and miserable cut through the haze of mate-mate-mate-mine that had swallowed Hyeonjoon entirely and he abruptly remembered where they were. This wasn’t his room, wasn’t Wooje’s room either, wasn’t even the heatrooms upstairs.

This was Sanghyeok-hyung’s room. And he was in pain.

They were supposed to be helping.

Wooje clearly realized the same thing, using his hand in Hyeonjoon’s hair to tug him forward and over until he was fully on the bed, falling backwards to press against the half-curled form of their hyung and Hyeonjoon propped on one hand over them both. The combined scents were dizzying and something about the contrast of the heavy black hoodie and thin white shirt dragged hot through Hyeonjoon’s belly. Wooje’s free hand slid up and under Sanghyeok’s head, cutting apale line across the bedspread and tilting him far enough for Hyeonjoon to finally catch the teary eyes, shining and all pupil, thesplash of red across his cheeks stark against his otherwise clammy skin, the half-open mouth like he’d been stopped mid-thought and huh.

Hyeonjoon had never really thought about it before, but even sweaty, weak, and sick with heat their Sanghyeok-hyung sure was pretty.

“Look,” Wooje said, half sugar and all order. Hyeonjoon was helpless to do anything else. What Wooje wanted he got. Sanghyeok seemed to feel it as well, gaze sharpening slightly as he fought to focus above him. “Look who’s here to help, aren’t you Joonie?”

“J’oon?” Sanghyeok whispered, hopeful and delicate, neck arching slightly in an offer that tugged right at Hyeonjoon’s heart and teeth.

He couldn’t listen to either of those things though, not entirely, so he dropped to his elbow, shifting closer to Wooje. If he had to bite someone, his mate was literally right there and beautiful. He breathed in chocolate and breathed out mine-take-mate-mine until he could form real words. “Hi, hyung. We want to help.”

A blink, slow and disbelieving and then the tears spilled over, Sanghyeok’s face twisting with despair. “Nooooo, no no no, no mine. Not for me.”

The rejection burned. His eyes burned. Everything burned. Here was a member of his pack, an Omega in need and he wasn’t enough, wasn’t good enough to help, he couldn’t do anything about the pain or the want or anything. The scent of ash and fire was back and it was his fault, Sangyheok could die and it was his fault. Wooje’s fingers tightened and Hyeonjoon followed the pressure down until his face was tucked into Wooje’s neck and the chocolate need drowned out the fiery flowers. It didn’t fix anything, but his thoughts went quiet and soupy. He hadn’t meant to make things worse.

The bed dipped.

The sheets shifted.

Another hand, big and warm ran up Hyeonjoon’s back and normally he would have balked at the touch but nothing was normal right now and he couldn’t even make any of it better so random people may as well touch him. Whatever. Wooje would tell him if he needed to fight anyone and his fingers were still tracing soothing circles on his scalp, so it must be okay.

“It’s okay, Sanghyeok-hyung,” that wasn’t Wooje, but it was still soft and tugged at the part of Hyeonjoon that was still begging to be allowed to fix. Minseok? “No one is going to bite you, no one is going to claim you. It’s like we talked about, remember? Jihoon is coming on Friday.”

“Tomorrow?” The word sounded unsure, like it every letter was a grain of salt and Sanghyeok was trying to gather them all up and arrange them correctly.

A purr, the low rumble from before was closer and it sanded off another edge from Hyeonjoon’s panic. They weren’t on their own with this. It was enough to coax Hyeonjoon to tilt his head sideways to watch the way their bot duo moved in sync, sliding into the open space at Sanghyeok’s right side one and then the other. Minhyung’s voice was all gravel and warm butter. “The day after tomorrow, but today’s almost over.”

“Not even two full days,” Minseok chimed in. “We’re going to help you feel safe and comfortable, and Jihoon will be here before you know it.”

Sanghyeok sobbed once, one hand coming up to clumsily swipe at the tears on his cheeks. “You promise?”

“Promise,” Wooje said softly, one hand still cupping the base of his skull through his hoodie and the other holding Hyeonjoon in place. He echoed his mate’s words. “We just want to help.”

“Let us take you upstairs?” Hyeonjoon asked, voice small. He wanted to take care of them, and Sanghyeok seemed to be more open to it, but what if Hyeonjoon had been the problem earlier? What if the problem was that he had tried to be involved?

There was a long moment where Sanghyeok said nothing, uncertainty swimming across his face, and the chasm of shame stretched wider and wider. Maybe Hyeonjoon had been wrong earlier, maybe he hadn’t earned a place here after all.

“Okay,” Sanghyeok whispered at last, the flush on his cheeks crawling down his neck and up his ears, making the sweat on his skin more of a glow than a sickly shine. “Help me up, Joonie?”

“Of course,” Hyeonjoon promised, cool relief spilling down his shoulders as he straightened back up, Wooje’s hand slipping from his hair and one shoulder brushing against Minhyung’s with a burst of sun-warmed greenery.

Minseok was already moving as well, finding his feet on the floor even as he swayed slightly, shivering in just his sweatpants and glossy-eyed. “Come on, hurry.”

Hyeonjoon was as capable of ignoring the whine on the tail end of that as he was of playing Sejuani for the ten billionth time for the sake of their comp. Sure he could, but god why would he want to?

One foot down and then the other, and then he and Wooje were gently guiding Sanghyeok upright with a hand around his shoulder and the other cradling his head. The cherry blossoms had settled again, still overpowering and begging, but there was less abject despair like there was finally a real chance that the pain would stop.

The animal part of Hyeonjoon’s brain was already chewing on the walls, but he tried to focus on logistics. It made the most sense to carry Sanghyeok himself so that Minhyung has his hands free and could-

On his first step away from the bed Minseok immediately tipped forward, his knees apparently opting out of the exercise and pitching him face first into Minhyung’s chest. Minseok moaned into the catch, and in a blink he was in the air and Minhyung’s arms, the jasmine and grass coiling tight around each other. Minhyung looked down at his mate like they were the only people on the planet, like he was holding something precious that had been given to him by the stars themselves and Minseok looked back like he was seeing the sunset for the very first time.

It was very sweet and also very inconvenient.

If Minseok really couldn’t walk right now being carried was definitely for the best, but they certainly couldn’t make Sanghyeokwalk either, which meant both Minhyung and Hyeonjoon were going to have their hands literally full and that made the Alpha in Hyeonjoon’s chest stop gnawing on his lungs and start howling instead. It wasn’t safe, it wasn’t safe, they couldn’t leave the safety of this den like that, what if someone was out there?

“Here hyung, let me,” Wooje said, from his place at Sanghyeok’s side, and before anyone could react he had scooped Sanghyeok up into a bridal carry, and god Hyeonjoon loved him. With his eyes dark and intent, the flex of his arms obvious as he cradled their hyung close to his chest, he looked like the start of a wet dream.

Hyeonjoon couldn’t resist leaning into a quick kiss, both a thanks and a promise of a reward for his brilliant mate and Wooje kissed back with equal enthusiasm, all quick licks and the slight catch of chapped lips. For a moment he was lost again to the swirl of heat-mate-take until they were interrupted by a sharp poke to the hollow of his neck from below.

“Jooooonie,” Sanghyeok whined, blinking up at the pair of them. They blinked back. “Nest please?”

Wooje shook his head slightly, like he was trying to dislodge the blush that had overtaken his cheeks and when he spoke his voice was high and breathy. “Right. Show us the way, alpha?”

That he could do.

With one last swipe of his thumb across Wooje’s lips and a stroke through Sanghyeok’s messy hair, Hyeonjoon made his way back to the doorway. Minhyung and Minseok were just inside the doorway, still half-caught in their own relentless gravity but they both looked up when he approached.

Minhyung cocked his head. “Time to go?”

“Yeah,” Hyeonjoon nodded, following his split-second instinct to brush a quick hand over Minhyung’s shoulder where Minseok’s hand was looped up around his neck. The touch sent another rush of that same weird warmth from earlier blending into the heat that had been building under his skin since they’d opened the apartment door. “I’ve got point.”

And then they were off, Hyeonjoon first and the others trailing carefully behind.

It was ridiculous. This was their apartment, but the sense of danger, that he was face-checking every bush in the enemy jungle with absolutely no vision wouldn’t budge. Sure it was supposed to be safe, but he couldn’t take the risk that it wasn’t, not with all four of his teammates on the backfoot if something went wrong. He had to check.

Thankfully, nothing had spawned in their living room while they’d been distracted, and then it was out into the hallway which was somehow even worse on Hyeonjoon’s poor nerves. This space wasn’t even theirs. He took a leaf out of Minhyung’s book, putting himself physically between his pack and every door they passed right up until the elevator.

As the only one with a hand free, he pressed the call button and they watched, quiet but for Sanghyeok's audible panting, as the number climbed higher and higher, Hyeonjoon's anxiety ratcheting tighter and tighter with it. The elevator had started on the ground floor, what if there was someone in it, what if there was someone trying to come here? They could hide out of view of the doors and try to grab someone as soon as they stepped inside.

When the door finally cracked open, Hyeonjoon shouldered his way in the second he’d fit, checking first the left corners and then the right. He did a quick spin, just to make absolutely sure there was nothing but shiny steel and cheap carpet, and only when he had confirmed that the elevator was empty did the worst of the tension unwind.

There was no threat. The elevator was theirs.

Now his pack could get in.

Minhyung nudged Wooje into motion, following behind just before the doors started to close, and any other time the elevator would have felt cramped but now all Hyeonjoon could think was that if any of his packmates tried to go out of arms’ reach again he was probably going to bite someone.

Some part of him that was still thinking about Friday started waving a little warning flag, but he smothered it ruthlessly. He was doing his job right now. Everything else could wait.

The ride up the elevator was both longer and shorter than the ride down. The scent of triple heat was absolutely intoxicating in such close quarters like an offer and a promise and the best thing he’d ever smelt in his entire life, making Hyeonjoon’s head spin and his dick uncomfortably hard. Time blurred again, each breath sliding into and on top of each other until Hyeonjoon wasn't sure if he was breathing in or out, only that his lungs were full and his hands were empty. Without a single thought in his head beyond mine-helpthem-takethem, he wrapped one hand gently around the back of Wooje's neck, fingers idly sketching out the pattern of their bondbite, and curled his other hand loosely around Minseok's ankle, tracing the jut of bone with his thumb. Minseok squirmed at the contact, and Minhyung sidled a little bit closer until they were pressed together shoulder to hip and all that was left between them were a couple layers of fabric and a handbreadth of air. Hyeonjoon turned his head, not sure if he was about to speak or kiss him, and then the elevator dinged, pinpricking reality back into place.

They were on the floor with the heatrooms. They were so close. Everything else could wait.

The doors slid apart and Hyeonjoon stepped forward, glancing suspiciously at every part of the hallway he could see. Access here at all was heavily restricted, the odds of anyone ever coming here at all were already so low, but Hyeonjoon still had to check.

He was half responsible for the four most precious people in the world, was their very first line of defense. He had to know if they were safe.

Thankfully, the hallway was also straight shot to the main heatrooms, to their nest, with the entrance to the secondary rooms right by the elevator, so Hyeonjoon was able to stick his head in there quickly to make absolutely sure they weren’t in use while Minhyung guided a gently swaying Wooje down to the door to the place they’d finally, finally be safe to take care of. Minseok had hadn't settled since the elevator, wrapped up in the discomfort of a heat hitting too quickly clearly getting to him, but the moment the door to the nest was open, he let out a cry and twisted sharply enough Minhyung had to put him own or risk dropping him, and stumbled right for the mound of pillows Minhyung had spent so long agonizing over. Minseok immediately half-buried himself in cushions.

Less than a second later he stuck his head back out, a pout on his face and his nose crinkled cutely. “Alphaaaaa, why is this upside down?”

Okay so the problem earlier was just that Minhyung was an idiot. Awesome.

Wooje wobbled forward, managing to gently set Sanghyeok in the middle of the nest before dropping beside him and doing his best imitation of a starfish while squinting at the ceiling. “I think the floor is inside out.”

OH.

Oh god they were both idiots.

In a moment of shameful solidarity, both Alphas reached for each other and held on tight. If their mates were going to kill them for failing at their specifically assigned task, at least they’d die together.

Except before the existential dread could rise too high or either Minseok or Wooje could bother to get up for ritual execution, their captain managed to roll over and pushed up on to his hands and knees, panting through the effort and the fever, all arched back and long, pale legs, smelling like a slightly singed invitation to the afterlife. Whether it was for heaven or hell barely even mattered when he looked like-

“Minhyungiiiiiiie,” Minseok whined, a grumpy dragon in his cushion cavern, pitched upwards but very clearly not asking. “Come and fix it.”

More importantly though, it was enough to break the temporary stunlock of Sanghyeok moving like that and got Hyeonjoon moving to his mates’ side, keeping contact with Minhyung until the last second. There was something about the way the scent of grass clung to his fingers that he was starting to get kind of fond of.

He ran a hand through Wooje’s hair the second he could reach him, stroking back to guide him into a kiss. Wooje sighed into it, one hand tracing down his chest and the other swiping out to catch at Sanghyeok’s fingers where they dug into the duvet laid out across the floor mats.

Hyeonjoon was a little occupied with the feeling of his mate’s skin like satin over deceptively powerful muscles and by the smell of chocolate demanding every ounce of focus he was capable of, but when Wooje’s hand cupped his jaw and pressed him back slightly, he went with the motion, watching transfixed as his tongue darted out to chase the leftover shine of Hyeonjoon’s mouth. And when the hand on his jaw stroked a thumb of cocoa sweetness across his lower lip, Hyeonjoon opened his mouth to take the whole of it without a thought and sucked at the ghost of what he really wanted on his tongue. If Wooje wanted to start with head and go from there, Hyeonjoon was more than game, already salivating at the thought of tasting that heat-rich slick straight from the source.

“Thank you, alpha,” Wooje said, breathless and flushed right down to the neckline of his t-shirt. Hyeonjoon knew from experience that pretty red went all the way down to his hips during heats, but before he could get to work unveiling his mate’s lovely body and mapping his way to his dripping entrance, Wooje continued. “Remember no teeth, okay?”

Which was. Bewildering and a little infurating. No teeth? On his own mate?? How were people supposed to know that Wooje was taken care of and protected and his if he wasn’t supposed to use his teeth? If Wooje was worried about a bite near his dick, he should really know better by now. Hyeonjoon was a good alpha, he knew how to be careful. He only bit when he meant it.

Hyeonjoon started to protest, exactly one breath into arguing, and then there was a wrist in his mouth instead of words.
He licked at it, half out of spite and half hoping for at least a taste of his mate to balance out the blow to his pride, but instead of chocolate he got a mouth full of silky cherry blossoms.

Light and delicate not deep and rich. Begging instead of demanding, but just as heavy with pheromones and heat and need and without any conscious input Hyeonjoon’s hands came up to hold Sanghyeok’s wrist in place, moaning into the way it made his head spin. He suckled at the swollen glands pressing hot against his lips and Sanghyeok cried out pleading and electric.

Maybe spurred on by the sound, maybe unable to resist any longer himself, Wooje shimmied downwards, hooking a hand into Hyeonjoon’s waistband and tugging his pants down as he positioned himself just beneath his hovering hips.

The sudden absence of his mate to kiss should have driven through Hyeonjoon like a spike, but he curled forward around Sanghyeok’s arm and lapped at the taste of please-alpha-helpme-helpme-helpme and any objection he might have had to Wooje getting to suck him off first melted away.

With two gorgeous heating Omegas under him, one his mate and the other falling apart at the gentle touch of his tongue, with the sounds and smells of their other packmates only just out of reach but filling the air with that same thrum of here-here-not-alone, Hyeonjoon was finally as sure of this as he was of locking in a second-pick Nocturne. They could make this work.

Hell, it might even be fun.

Chapter Text

It didn't take long for the rising heat in Hyeonjoon's gut to start melting all thoughts of anything other than the right now.

Hyeonjoon tried to chase the floral sweetness now pooling under his tongue up towards Sanghyeok’s elbow as Wooje nuzzled obnoxiously at his hipbones rather than paying any attention to his aching cock, but Hyeonjoon very rapidly got a mouthful of cotton that tasted vaguely like… dusty leaves? And he had to pause. Whatever that awful taste was, it was gross and in the way of the cherry blossoms and needed to go.

He ran one hand down the hoodie while the other stayed locked around around Sanghyeok’s wrist, searching for the hem until he finally found skin, but as he hooked his fingers under the fabric Sanghyeok cried out and tried to squirm away. Hyeonjoon’s other hand tightened reflexively as he released the fabric entirely, pulling himself back from where he was hunched just in time for Wooje’s teeth to sink harshly into his thigh in a very obvious reprimand.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry,” Hyeonjoon pressed the words to Sanghyeok’s cheek, his jaw, and shuddered when Wooje’s tongue curled around the base of his cock. “You can keep it on, we won’t take it. I just gotta- Can I kiss you? Please?”

Sanghyeok’s movements slowed and he panted for a moment, staring up at Hyeonjoon. “No, not my mouth but my- you can kiss my neck. Just- no biting, okay?”

“No teeth,” Hyeonjoon agreed, already dipping down to get his lips on the new stretch of skin just as Wooje finally, finally took him into his mouth. The combination of warm, wet heat wrapped around him and silky, fragrant cherry blossoms on his tongue was devastating to any semblance of coherent thought. It was all he could do to keep himself upright and his hips steady, core burning with the strain and the want as he let Wooje do his best to suck any remaining composure right out of him.

Vaguely, Hyeonjoon was aware of his hand moving, of the twine of fingers between his own and the mild tug as it moved over his head, but he was so distracted by the coiling, writhing heat in his gut and the bobbing heaven around his dick that it wasn’t until a tentative kitten lick stroked across his own scent glands and nearly sent him collapsing down on top of Wooje that he realized what exactly their hyung was up to.

He was trying to copy what he knew felt good.

“Yes, there, just like that,” Hyeonjoon moaned encouragement into Sanghyeok’s neck as the first careful touches repeated, almost perfectly in time with Wooje’s movements below. Their hyung learned so quickly, was so clever, and it gave him an idea. “Wooje, let me- I’ve gotta move, we’ve gotta show him what it’s like.”

Wooje pulled off after a moment that could have been a second or a month, and took another few mind-melting moments to nose up and down the crease of his hip, breath hot and damp tickling through the wiry hair. His voice when it came was muzzy and hoarse. “Show him?”

Hyeonjoon probably should have tried to put the idea in his head into words, but it was getting so hot and his jaw was itching and Sanghyeok tasted good, sure, and he definitely wanted to help him, but Hyeonjoon needed his mate and he was pretty sure this would help them both anyways.

He dropped a quick kiss on to Sanghyeok’s cheek before rolling sideways and reaching a hand down to Wooje’s wrist, gently guiding him up and into Sanghyeok’s slack arms. He took a second to admire the picture they made, two pairs of dark eyes blinking owlishly at him for guidance with matching pretty flushes, that sharp contrast of white fabric on black, the twine of their limbs and scents like something out of a daydream, and all of it drenched in the heady knowledge that they were his to take care of; it burned a path through his chest and forced him back into motion.

“Hold tight, okay?” Hyeonjoon let a little bit of Alpha slip into his voice, just enough they’d know he was serious, and it did the trick in getting Sanghyeok’s arms to finally hold Wooje properly and Wooje always did look especially good with one arm stretched behind him to grab at the pillows at the head of their bed. The lovely line of him was absolutely no different with that arm looped behind Sangheok’s neck instead.

Hyeonjoon settled himself between their legs, gently spreading Wooje’s knees wider to make room and stretching Sanghyeok in turn like a quiet echo making them both moan. The air was so thick with the responding pheromones Hyeonjoon couldn’t help wetting his lips like that would help him taste.

There was only one real way to do that, though, and it was right in front of him.

The light fabric of Wooje’s boxers was already tented and wet, straining and soaked with desire, and Hyeonjoon didn’t fight the spool of burning want that drew him down until he could finally, finally taste his mates slick for real. Oh, sure, the barrier of cotton was inconvenient, but the heat of him, the weight of his little dick pressing back, the chocolate-rich flavour that told him yes-here-here-more were all perfect.

At the first touch to his cock, Wooje sagged backwards, driving a huff of air out of Sanghyeok forced to catch him before they settled further into each other and the nest. That alone was enough to send a thrill of satisfaction through Hyeonjoon. Yes, good the Omegas would take care of each other while he took care of them, that was right, that was what was supposed to happen.

He took his time mouthing at the fabric, letting the extra layer soften his touch just enough to run the edge of his teeth up the length of Wooje's cock to draw out a full body shudder without hurting him.

"Hyeonjoon," Wooje whined, stretching the vowels and twitching as Hyeonjoon lay his tongue flat across the tip of his cock and pressed. Thankfully, Sanghyeok was doing a good job of holding him steady or he probably would have snapped and started grinding on Hyeonjoon's face by now. Not that that was a bad thing, but it wasn't often he really got the chance to tease his Omega like this, and it was always so lovely to get to really show off exactly how well he knew his mate.

Speaking of.

"Hyung, can you do me a favour?"

Sanghyeok hummed distractedly. When Hyeonjoon looked up to see why, he was met with one of the prettier sights he’d had the pleasures of witnessing. Wooje was already a wreck, flushed and beading with sweat, his mouth open as he gasped for every scrap of air he could manage. His shirt had rucked up to his ribs, and Sanghyeok’s hands were spread wide across his belly, stroking absently as his gaze remained locked on Wooje’s face, all dazed hunger and dark, dark eyes.

Maybe Hyeonjoon should have been jealous, seeing so much desire directed at his mate, but all he could think was that of course Sanghyeok couldn’t help but see how beautiful Wooje was when he was getting what he needed. Of course he appreciated it, who wouldn’t? It was Hyeonjoon making them both feel that way, and he was going to make it even better.

“Lick his bondbite, hyung?” Hyeonjoon asked, already salivating at the thought and he just had to take a second to suck hard at the telling patch of dampness over Wooje’s entrance, pulling and pulling and pulling until his mouth was a whole nother kind of wet. With the taste of chocolate on his tongue and Wooje’s sobs still ringing in the air, he was able to continue the thought. “He likes it soft right along the scar. Can you do that for me, Sanghyeokie-hyung? I can’t reach from here, and doesn’t Wooje deserve to feel as nice as possible?”

“Oh. Yes, of course, Alpha.” The words were full of delicate wonder, like he couldn’t quite believe this was something he was doing and was completely unaware of how that last word was like an Annie Q aimed directly at Hyeonjoon’s cock. Before Hyeonjoon could do something about that though, Sangyheok leaned down obediently to nose at Wooje’s neck and that was all Hyeonjoon really needed.

Carefully, but not too slowly in case Wooje got frustrated and tried to kick him, Hyeonjoon eased his boxers off, taking a half-beat to appreciate the way they clung to him as if they were reluctant to stop touching him. Hyeonjoon could relate.

In an act of true Mid-jug synergy, Hyeonjoon and Sanghyeok's mouths met skin at exactly the same moment, one high, one low, and both devastatingly wet. Wooje gasped at the long drag of Hyeonjoon's tongue across his entrance, squirming from his hips up and tugging Sanghyeok's mouth back and forth across his throat in turn.

As always, the taste of his mate wrapped Hyeonjoon's senses in a velvety hot blanket. There was no hurry here, just the slow give of muscle and the simmering heat under all their skins. On the next pass of his tongue, this time dipping in just enough to scoop out a bit of slick to roll around his mouth like a toffee, Wooje started talking.

“Good, good, that’s so good Hyeonjoonie,” he gasped, half-sob and all hunger, rolling his hips further into Hyeonjoon’s hold and grinding into the touch. Every word was a different firework in Hyeonjoon's chest, an acknowledgement that he was doing well, that his mate was taken care of. “Hyung, look, you’ve gotta see. He’s gotta do that, okay? Jihoon’s gotta- gotta do it like that-“

If his mate could talk about another Alpha right now, then Hyeonjoon clearly wasn’t doing his job. He slipped a thumb into Wooje’s opening and tugged down, stretching him a little harshly and wide enough to get his whole tongue inside to rub at his upper wall, as deep as he could go.

Wooje keened, bucking up once, twice, and then going boneless. Hyeonjoon glanced up at that, a little confused because usually Wooje could ride his face for hours, to find Sanghyeok sucking at Wooje's bondbite with red, red lips. The scent of melting chocolate spiralled from the contact, Wooje's eyes going glassy and every muscle buttery soft against Hyeonjoon's mouth.

A hand, soft and gentle, fingers too thin to be Wooje, threaded through Hyeonjoon's hair, short nails scratching at the base of his skull, sending tingles chasing up and down his spine in contrast to the molten heat throbbing in his crotch. Hyeonjoon tipped his head back into the hand for a second, just far enough to let him press a kiss to the forearm attached to it and get another mouthful of please-please-yes-please.

The combination of flavours made Hyeonjoon's blood roar, made the legs over his shoulders and the slick on his lips feel like not enough. How could it be enough when every touch, every inch of skin just made him burn hotter and hotter? With every sound out of Wooje's mouth making the prettiest music he'd ever heard, with the gentlest of pushback against him because Sanghyeok of all people was helplessly rocking his hips into Wooje's back, with the searing need eating away at every thought that wasn't focused on the right now, it was all Hyeonjoon could do to keep from rutting his already half-formed knot clean through the blankets beneath him.

There'd be time for that.

Hyeonjoon took his time, licking back and forth until his chin was dripping nearly as steadily as Wooje’s entrance, sliding one finger in, then two, then a third and curling them like he could bring his fingertips back to his palm if only he kept trying until Wooje gushed his first orgasm of the day right down his wrists. He tucked his nose into the hollow of Wooje’s hip, picking out the cherry blossom lathered over the steady chocolate, the threads of jasmine still clinging from earlier, and under that the traces of his own steady cedar. This was right, this was so close to right, but something was missing. He mouthed at Wooje's little cock, still hard and leaking, and tried to sort through his soupy thoughts.

Something was missing. This worked, Hyeonjoon knew this worked and he could handle this as it was to get both himself and Wooje knotted and satiated, but there was something missing and maybe they didn’t need it, but what if Wooje wanted it? What if Sanghyeok wanted it? Hyeonjoon didn’t know him quite as well, not for this, but it was his job to tend to both Omegas' every need until they were satisfied. What if whatever was missing was one of those things?

Hyeonjoon needed to find it.

He sucked a mark into Wooje’s thigh and leaned into the scratch of fingertips at his nape while he tried to think, alternating between fitting the pattern of his teeth into the skin and suckling at his cock.

Chocolate, cherry, jasmine, cedar. That was all correct, what else was there? Something wet, but not wet like Wooje was wet right now more like something else. Not dirt either, but close. Definitely something that got rained on.

Did they need to go outside? That wouldn’t be safe, not like this. Just the prospect of either Wooje or Sanghyeok leaving the nest made something sharp and angry spike in Hyeonjoon’s gut.

That wasn’t it.

Another languid lick as Hyeonjoon tucked his fingers back into his mate and twisted just to hear the sob that elicited, and Hyeonjoon got a taste of something that absolutely was not chocolate and was definitely not a flower either.

Grass?

Something pinged down on the bottom side of Hyeonjoon's brain.

Oh!

Grass. That's what was missing. Because of course Hyeonjoon couldn't handle three Omegas totally on his own. That'd be crazy and also bad for his dick, probably. They needed the grass too.

And Hyeonjoon knew exactly where to find more of it.

In one only smooth motion, Hyeonjoon tucked a knee underneath himself and then scooped Wooje upwards as he sat back, setting the Omega to straddle his knee in perfect range to kiss. Sanghyeok, with arms still wrapped around Wooje because he was sweet like that, came up with him, gasping at the sudden movement and tipping too far forward until his weight pushed Wooje up into Hyeonjoon’s chest and pressed their cocks together, completely derailing Hyeonjoon’s very clever idea for... however long it took for Wooje to start whining.

By then Hyeonjoon’s thigh was soaked and Sanghyeok had taken the liberty of peppering small, sharp bites across whatever skin was closest, still working himself against the small of Wooje’s back and adding another rhythm to the rock of Wooje’s hips.

The slick sound of Wooje’s hole dragging across skin combined with the sting of his fingernails where they dug into Hyeonjoon’s shoulders were his usual warning to either get moving or sit back and let Wooje take what he wanted because patience officially reached a zero, and Wooje was going to get fucked one way or the other, but he still had the plan to execute, so.

Gently, because these were his Omegas and he needed them to trust him so he could give them everything they needed including the things they hadn’t thought of yet, Hyeonjoon slipped his hands off of Wooje’s hips and reached back to find Sanghyeok’s waist under the thick black hoodie. Some part of him marvelled again at how small his hyung was, delicate enough Hyeonjoon would swear that without the fabric his fingertips would nearly meet around back, while another part cringed at how easy it would be to hurt him by accident.

Sanghyeok squeaked at the contact and then moaned, twitching helplessly forward and driving another wave of so good pressure through all of them, but Hyeonjoon didn’t let that distract him from tracing his hands down, lower, looking for the perfect place to-

Twin cries split the air as Hyeonjoon used his sudden grip on Sanghyeok’s ass to squeeze both Omegas right up close to his chest, sandwiching Wooje firmly against him and grinding all of their cocks against flesh. Before either could protest, Hyeonjoon stood up, arms straining at the weight of two full grown men and hoisted them into the air.

It was okay. They didn’t have to go far.

Each step rolled their hips against each other and blurred Hyeonjoon’s thoughts, but the ache in his arms and the encroaching scents of morning grass and dewy jasmine anchored him to the plan.

At some point, the pillow cave must have been abandoned because Minhyung was flat on his back with Minseok on top of him, setting the pace like he'd decided enough was enough and he would be handling the engages from now on. Mihyung seemed all for it, one hand wrapped around Minseok's cock, letting him fuck himself into it with every thrust, and a steady stream of praise spilling from his lips.

“Just like that, you’re doing such a good job,” Minhyung panted, hips flexing up to meet every downward movement and smelling like a pile of lawn clippings. Hyeonjoon’s first instinct was to snarl, but that wasn’t right, they needed the grass, so he choked that down. His second instinct was to stare. “Getting everything you need, aren’t you baby?”

Minseok moaned his agreement and as if in response, Sanghyeok keened, a weak shiver running through him from head to hip. The sound grabbed the attention of the botlane on the floor, nostrils flaring and eyes surprisingly sharp. 

"What have you got there, Joonie?" Minseok asked, sweet as arsenic and still moving. “Did you bring us a present?”

Minhyung grinned up at them, a little too toothy to be entirely friendly, but still full of that devastating charm that he had mastered years ago. “I think he must have, Minseokie, or else why would he be here?”

For a long moment, Hyeonjoon forgot words were a thing he was supposed to be using, caught between staring at the surprisingly pretty pair the duo made and doing literally anything else that was less likely to ping badly off of Minhyung’s instincts, but Wooje took that exact opportunity to bite Hyeonjoon’s shoulder hard and he had no choice but to drop to his knees or drop his Omegas. That second one was not happening, so down he went. The bite also restarted enough of his brain to come up with a coherent answer. “Wooje wants to show hyung how his Alpha is gonna take care of him.”

Something hot and possessive flashed across Minhyung’s face and Hyeonjoon felt its twin curling in his chest even though he’d been the one to bring up the elephant not in the room in the first place. What did Sanghyeok even need that other guy for, anyways? He had them, didn’t he? They already knew how to satisfy a heat, and they were right here. Weren’t they enough?

Maybe smelling his agitation, maybe just annoyed with being ignored, Wooje bucked forwards, planting one foot and forcing Hyeonjoon to sit back on his heels or lose his balance entirely. Sanghyeok, still playing spider monkey, whimpered as his cock momentarily lost contact with Wooje and dug his nails into Wooje’s belly, drawing a groan from the other Omega. Wooje let his head tip back onto Sanghyeok’s shoulder and nipped at the under side of his jaw in retaliation.

“What have you shown him?” Minseok asked, watching mesmerized as Sanghyeok’s hoodie rode up just enough to bare the tops of his thighs.

Wooje answered between little bites that had their hyung shaking. “Joonie ate me out so, so good and now he’s gonna fuck me.” At the confirmation that he’d done a good job, that his Omega was happy and wanted more, Hyeonjoon couldn’t help himself from slipping a hand in between the two Omegas to grip Wooje’s lovely ass and circle his middle finger around his slick hole. He was still so soft and opened up under the barest touch of pressure. “Sanghyeokie-hyung can stay where he is while Joonie does that, if he wants.”

"I don’t know,” Minhyung hummed, hands going tight and driving his cock into Minseok with enough force to push a choked little noise out with every thrust. “Will he even be able to see anything from behind you?”

Now Hyeonjoon was no expert on the best voyeur angles during sex, but he did know a thing or two about the importance of vision and admittedly it didn’t make sense for Sanghyeok to try to learn anything that he couldn’t see. Sanghyeok was really smart, but he was also more of a visual and hands-on learner than anything else, and if he didn’t want to try doing too much himself without his Alpha, well.

They might need to put on a bit of a performance.

An unexpected thrill of heat scampered down Hyeonjoon's spine at the thought. He always did like showing off, and while their hyung could be hard to impress, he was pretty sure that between Wooje and himself there wasn't a better example for perfect mates out there. Usually they liked to keep a lot of their relationship fairly private, but here, with their team, Hyeonjoon could prove exactly how well he could play Wooje's body, how good of an Alpha he was for an audience that would understand.

With the surge of smug arousal the prospect coursing through him, Hyeonjoon couldn't help himself from kissing Wooje again, from drawing his lower lip gently into his mouth just to bite, from sucking at the swollen flesh in apology, drowning in heat-chocolate-jasmine-cherry-alphaplease, rutting up against him all the while in bursts of sweet pleasure just teasing along the edges of what they both really wanted. They were so good together, how could anything be better than this, than them?

”Hyung, hyung, come here,” Minseok whined from where he was, his outstretched hand not breaking the bubble of haze that had swallowed the Top-Jug duo again, but widening it out again. Hyeonjoon ran a hand up Sanghyeok’s thigh in apology, savouring the feel of silky skin under his palm and the way it made Sanghyeok tremble in equal measure.

He broke the kiss to bite at the lobe of Wooje’s ear. “What do you think, Wooje-yah? Shall we give our Sanghyeokie-hyung to Minxi and Minhyung to hold so he can watch properly as I fuck you? Would you like to show him how good you take it, how pretty my cock makes you?”

"Hyeonjoon," Wooje panted, a particularly dangerous glint in his eye. "If you don't get in me in the next ten seconds, hyung is going to find out exactly the kind of squeak you make when I pick you up."

Well there was no need for that.

Hyeonjoon shifted, twisting enough that Sanghyeok was now properly in range of Minseok's grabby hand, which took two tries to loop around his upper arm and then all but dragged the other Omega right on top of Minhyung’s chest, swaying slightly with every motion of the Alpha below them. Minseok immediately changed his own pace, rising higher with each bounce to drag his cock up and down the front of Sanghyeok’s sweater even as he buried his flushed face in his neck.

They looked good together, no doubt about it. Wooje and Sanghyeok had been like a matching set, balanced against each other in some respects but both that little bit sweet, that little bit sneaky. In contrast, Minseok and Sanghyeok were only similar in their eagerness. Minseok was so small and so certain, all desire, taking everything he could with his mouth, his hands, his hole. Sanghyeok was long delicate limbs, seemingly overwhelmed to be receiving any attention at all and a little delayed on his reactions but more than happy to give his best once he got the hang of it, dancing exploratory fingertips up and down Minseok’s flanks and arching his neck to let Minseok mouth at his throat.

And beneath them, of course, Minhyung; a long line of casual strength and golden skin, one steadying hand spread wide on Minseok’s waist, guiding him through each rolling motion of their joined hips. His other hand wrapped around Sanghyeok's nape, anchoring him in place for Minseok’s clever tongue and teasing a thumb at his scent glands.

Definitely putting on a good show, enough to run a current through Hyeonjoon from head to cock of hunger, arousal, and a weirdly competitive satisfaction, like he was watching a teammate get a triple kill with the last two members of the enemy team about to run into an ambush. At the same time though, Minhyung was getting even a metaphorical sex penta over his dead body.

Hyeonjoon and Wooje could do one better.

With both hands now free for his mate, Hyeonjoon started by stripping off Wooje’s shirt and then moved on to what he knew worked. He fucked two fingers up into Wooje's hole, curling them to find that particular bundle of nerves, and pressing. Back and forth, in tight little circles up against Wooje's walls, following the movement of his desperate twitching to ensure there wasn't a single second where Wooje could think about anything at all.

Wooje didn't disappoint, just like Hyeonjoon knew he wouldn't, shuddering at every touch and moaning loud enough that Sanghyeok tipped his head sideways to fix them with lidded, glazed eyes.

Gotcha.

Hyeonjoon licked at Wooje's mouth as he manipulated his limbs, tongue dipping in as his fingers slipped out to turn him around and set him gently on his knees, following all the while until he was draped over his mate where he knelt. The weight of being watched stayed through one kiss, two kisses, and Hyeonjoon rutted against Wooje's ass, thrusting a little harder than he normally would to make absolutely sure Sanghyeok could see the moment their hips met. It was hard to focus on keeping an even rhythm with the attention, but Wooje matched him with every breath, helping the head of his cock catch on his winking opening, just enough to tease them both before slipping away again.

“Alpha,” Wooje whined, breathy and beautiful and perfect. “Fuck me. Now.”

“Wooje,” Hyeonjoon cooed back. He wanted, god he wanted to do exactly that, to bury himself deep in his partner until neither one of them could remember ever being apart, but they were supposed to be an example for their poor hyung who needed to know what to expect. “What do we say when we want something?”

Wooje all but hissed his displeasure, craning backwards clearly ready to spit a reply, but before he could get a word out Hyeonjoon slid one hand from hip to chest and pinched a nipple between his fingertips.

The reaction was instant, Wooje’s breath stuttering out of him and his head dropping to hang between his shoulders. His hips flexed back desperately, dragging his dripping hole down the length of Hyeonjoon’s cock, once, twice, testing Hyeonjoon’s resolve to do this properly.

But the heavy warmth of being watched hadn’t faded, if anything it had gotten heavier, and even if he wanted to Hyeonjoon couldn’t ignore the reassuring scent of pack-heat-safe. They weren’t on their own this time. They had something they were supposed to be doing.

If anything happened, their pack was there to help.

They had all the time in the world.

“What was that?” Hyeonjoon asked sweetly, tugging at Wooje’s nipple just to stop him from answering. While his Omega was distracted, Hyeonjoon snuck his hand round to the base of his own cock, lining it up carefully for the next thrust even as his hips hovered in place cruelly unmoving.

Wooje’s next cry was just the littlest bit wet, and the sound was as satisfying as Hyeonjoon getting that rude tongue back on his cock. “Hyung, please, fuck me, please.”

Before he even finished speaking, Hyeonjoon pushed forwards, slotting his cock right into place where it belonged in one smooth thrust that drove the air out of them both and melted the world into warm, sticky syrup.

Hyeonjoon had meant to tease more, had meant to drag things out, but by the time his brain came back online he was already pounding into his mate, the inferno in his chest burning bright and a rolling growl spilling between his aching teeth. Even after so much time, Wooje was always just as tight as the first time they’d fucked, just as hot, but it was also so much better because now Wooje knew to sag into Hyeonjoon’s ready hands so he could reach back and tug at Hyeonjoon’s hair, knew exactly how to circle his hips to catch the tip of Hyeonjoon’s cock perfectly on his rim with every thrust.

They’d always been good together, but practice had only made them better.

Speaking of practice.

Hyeonjoon traced up Wooje’s chest, pausing again to tweak his nipples, lovely and dark like the chocolate he smelled like and capable of pulling such pretty moans from him, cupping his throat to enjoy the feeling of Wooje so desperately trying to swallow despite every thrust jolting him hard enough that drool was starting to leak from his lips, and finally stopping to stretch across his silky soft jaw and hold his well-fucked mate out on display for his pack.

For a moment Hyeonjoon slowed his pace to just marvel at the weight now carefully balanced along the stretch of his arm, at the feeling of his mate suspended only by the strength of his body. His little tits fit so perfectly on either side of Hyeonjoon’s forearm, like they’d been made just for that. He could lift Wooje higher, toss him against the floor, or move him however he wanted, and Wooje would let him.

Of course he would, Wooje was his. His to care for, his to hold and to fuck and to fill until they were both sated and there was nothing and no one that could change that, nothing else that even mattered-

“What do you think, hyung?” Minhyung’s voice cut into Hyeonjoon’s awareness like an unexpected global ult coming through mid-gank. “Do you think Joonie is doing a good job taking care of Wooje?”

All at once the weight of watching returned, settling over Hyeonjoon's shoulders like a warm blanket. Ah, yes. The peanut gallery.

“I- I don’t,” Sanghyeok’s breath hitched deliciously, but Hyeonjoon was too busy dragging higher and higher noises out of Wooje to look at why. “How do you tell?”

Hyeonjoon could help with that. Using his grip on Wooje’s jaw, Hyeonjoon tilted his partner’s face towards their teammates, letting them get a clear look at his flushed face and glossy eyes. “C’mon sweetheart, let hyung get a look at you. Let him see.”

Even from his angle Hyeonjoon knew his mate looked good, those gorgeous thick muscles all pink and glowing, his hair mussed and damp. Every other breath was a cry, just high enough to risk cracking, the exact pitch that Hyeonjoon knew meant he was maybe two good thrusts from tears. Usually it was a bit of a game to see how close they could get to that edge without tipping over, how long it would take Wooje to finally crack, but tonight they had something to prove.

“Look, Sanghyeokie-hyung,” Minseok’s voice was as coaxing as his scent, all floral-hungry-do-what-i-say- isn’t-this-nice? If Hyeonjoon hadn’t already been soaring from friction of the perfect slick heat around him, the combination might have sent him spinning,“See how Wooje-yah can’t close his mouth? And how every time he starts to push back Joonie is already right there?”

"Uh-huh," Sanghyeok moaned, and Hyeonjoon was no saint, he had to see what had caused that particular noise.

He wasn’t disappointed by what he found. Minseok’s head had dropped to Sanghyeok’s far shoulder, perched so he could alternate kisses and crude whispers pressed against his throat, all while lazily tracking the impromptu demonstration next to them. Minhyung was still moving, a near constant rolling give and take that kept the Omegas above him rocking into each other and the hand he had slipped between them to wrap around their little cocks over and over again. Sanghyeok himself looked half out of his mind, every inch of visible skin a flushed a particularly biteable shade of red and his pink, pink mouth hanging open in abject wonder.

“And see how Hyeonjoon changes his angle every now and then, making sure that Wooje can’t adjust?” Minghyung added, voice as dark, deep, and easy to drown in as the bottom of a well.

Sanghyeok gasped raggedly as both Hyeonjoon and Minhyung took the opportunity to thrust into their partners, plucking twin whimpering notes of pleasure. “Y-yes.”

Wooje whined, shaking and clenching, twitching back helplessly onto Hyeonjoon’s cock. “Hyeon-Hyeonjoon, Alpha please. Please- close, I’m so close.”

Aw his poor Omega, stuck swaying with no leverage but so desperate for that little bit more to push him over the edge. Who was Hyeonjoon to deny him what he wanted?

Finally giving his aching biceps a break, Hyeonjoon took half a second to guide Wooje’s shoulders gently to the cushy floor, and then he shifted his grip so he could press his back into a deep bend with one hand and pump his pretty cock with the other. Hyeonjoon resumed his earlier punishing pace, skin smacking loudly against sticky skin, only this time he had enough focus to tilt his hips just so to hit Wooje’s prostate on every thrust.

Immediately, Wooje shrieked into the cushion beneath him, one hand flailing out for something to hang on to. His fingers found purchase in Sanghyeok’s outstretched hand, spasming again and again before entangling themselves in an iron grip.

It was sweet, and it only added fuel to the fiery hunger Hyeonjoon had been trying not to focus on. His skin felt stretched too tight, everything was so loud, his teeth ached, but his pack was here, his mate was here, they were getting what they needed, he was doing good-

“Now, you can see how Wooje’s legs shake? He can’t hold himself up, but Joonie’s got him.” The words were familiar and Hyeonjoon was sure if he focused he could decipher them, but any meaning was pointless when he got everything he needed from the tone; low and certain and approving, because Hyeonjoon’s pack knew he was capable, could take care of his Omega, could take care of them all if they let him, and oh he wanted.

Beneath him, Wooje was crying now, soft little hitches to his breathing that might not have been noticeable if Hyeonjoon didn’t know every beat of his heart like his own, and he couldn’t take it anymore. Hyeonjoon folded himself over, pressing skin to skin until it was entirely irrelevant where one of them ended and the other started because they were together. He put his lips to Wooje’s neck, sucking at the scar there, his scar that meant his mate would never, ever leave him.

The burning pleasure built like a home inside of him, beam by beam, nailed into place by every inch of Wooje he touched. Wooje’s cock fit so neatly in his palm, hot and hard and dripping enough that each stroke of it was nearly as smooth as each stroke of Hyeonjoon inside his gushing hole, harder now as his growing knot started to catch.

“Don’t forget to look at how good Wooje is being,” Minseok chimed from somewhere, words broken up by breathy moans, some his and some not, but otherwise as calm as if he was reviewing a VOD. “I bet he’s not normally so sweet, but he’s being such a good Omega today, isn’t he, Joonie?”

That was a question, one with his name and probably an answer of some kind. About his mate?

Hyeonjoon groaned the only thought he could hold on to. “Fucking perfect, he’s perfect, he's mine.”

Somewhere, someone laughed.

Around them the scents of their pack were a reassuring ocean and it meant Hyeonjoon could close his eyes and finally, finally sink his teeth into Wooje’s neck the way he’d wanted to since opening the apartment door so long ago.

Rich chocolate exploded across his tongue and smooth wet muscle fluttered around his cock, his knot locking them both in place and ensuring every single drop of cum stayed exactly where it was meant to be even as wet heat spilled over his fingers from Wooje. Hyeonjoon had know idea which of the two was responsible but as the swell of orgasm crested and buzzed through him, the worst of the rut-sweet fire in his gut eased leaving only a soft relief and the overwhelming pleasure.

This. This was what he was meant for, what he was meant to be doing. The rest of the world was nice, but there wasn’t anything across the entire world that compared to the feeling of being knotted deep in his mate. Hyeonjoon pressed Wooje harder into the floor with his full weight, rocking slightly to drag out the high as long as possible for both of them.

“Well at the very least, they seem happy with that,” Minhyung chuckled, an aggravating smugness to it despite the audible panting, and Hyeonjoon kind of wanted to bite him except he felt too good to even think of moving for the next ten minutes. At least.

Minseok giggled his agreement and there was a long slick sound that Minhyung grunting like he’d been punched. “They were a pretty good introduction, but what do you say to something a little more involved, hyung?”

Sanghyeok whimpered. “N-no biting.”

From where they lay together, Wooje started to squirm so Hyeonjoon finally unlatched from Wooje’s neck to a displeased whimper and rolled them onto their sides, his back to the door and his mate to their pack. He hooked his chin over Wooje’s shoulder so he could see, idly stroking his palms up and down Wooje’s broad torso, collar to cock and back again, stopping to occasionally tease at his favourite sensitive spots to brush just the cusp of overstimulation.

“No kissing either, right hyung?” Wooje pouted, voice wrecked and whiny. “It’s not fair if you kiss them when you wouldn’t kiss us.”

“No kissing,” Sanghyeok agreed easily, teary eyes catching on Wooje where he was nestled in Hyeonjoon’s arms. “Can’t kiss you, have to wait. Jihoon said-”

The name lit a match of frustration that scorched right through Hyeonjoon’s post-knot mellow, and it was only the lingering taste of Wooje on his lips that had him swallow the angry growl that wanted to tear out.

Minhyung had no such hang ups, voice going black and harsh as his growl shook both Omegas atop him and he fucked upwards like if he just got deep enough no other Alpha would ever be able to touch either of them. “Don’t worry about what he said. We’ll show you, okay? No kissing, no biting, we’ll just make you feel good. Keep you safe.”

“We’ll be nice,” Minseok leaned back, eyes fluttering at the change in angle for a moment before he took Sanghyeok’s face in his hands and swept his thumbs across his cheekbones. “Trust us?”

Sanghyeok stared for a moment, a little lost like he was trying to read patch notes that were inexplicably written entirely in emoticons, before swallowing thickly. He nodded, the tiniest little thing.

That little show of courage, of trust, was enough to soothe the irritation the reminder of that other Alpha had stirred in Hyeonjoon. Their packmate was going to let them take care of him. He wasn’t leaving, he wasn’t going to keep suffering. They could help.

Which reminded him.

“And what do we say when we want something, hyung?” he asked, half-teasing half-not. Sanghyeok was supposed to have paid attention, after all.

A wet gasp was all the reply he got for a long moment, and the delay was enough for Minhyung to snake a hand up Sanhyeok’s back to tangle in his hair and pull, baring his throat to their pack and bowing his back beautifully under that baggie hoodie. “C’mon hyung. What do you say?”

Sanghyeok squeezed his eyes shut, little crystalline tears spilling down his cheeks. He sucked in a ragged breath that rattled his entire frame and tugged at where he was caught between their botlaners.

“Please,” he whispered.