Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They stood huddled together in the new clearing, their emotions running high after telling Jisung about their plans to build a cabin. Jisung molded a place between them that Chan never knew existed. Chan could feel the relief and hope Minho felt through their bond, an undeniable happiness that finally eased his mate’s heart into a humming content. 

This was it. This was an inflection point in the course of their lives. From here on out, Chan vowed to help nurture the love between Minho and Jisung. He promised himself to protect their happiness and to ensure Jisung’s special bond would remain loving and never grow bitter or depressed. He would make sure his young alpha would have a place to stay when Minho went through his cycle, to keep him home and protected during the mating season.

He took a step back, wanting to let Minho and Jisung have a moment together. But his mate brusquely pulled him back in by the hips. He felt a solid form press hard right below his navel, sending him into a brief shock of panic until he remembered his young alpha’s antics. 

“Hey, um, Sungie,” he rasped out and had to clear his throat to sound more insouciant about it. “Is that a rock in your pocket?”

“Oh my Moon,” Jisung groaned embarrassed and hid his face from them. Minho laughed out a loud staccato, one born from deep within his belly that Chan always found so amusing. “Technically it’s not a rock, but yeah.”

He chuckled, relaxing enough to hug them once more, “Oh, okay.”

However, Minho pulled Jisung away from him, winding his arms around his young alpha’s smaller waist. He felt unsure if he did something to cause them to split away from him, but the way his mate tucked his face close to Jisung’s neck said otherwise. 

They looked good together. It wasn’t a thought he liked to entertain, but  it was a thought he had times before nonetheless. Their height difference made it perfect for Minho to rest his chin on the expanse of Jisung’s shoulder. He looked so relaxed and comfortable wrapped around the younger’s frame. Minho had an innate ability to summon Jisung’s docileness and there was just something about Jisung, an essence, a je ne sais quoi that managed to soften the edges of his mate in a way Chan had never seen with anyone else. 

That’s why he knew they needed each other. A knowledge that had him fighting against his deep-set instincts. He could feel his inner alpha cry out that Minho was his. His, only his. But he ignored his gut and spectated their closeness with unadulterated fondness. 

Minho pushed Jisung. He didn’t expect that and apparently neither did his young alpha, as Jisung stumbled his way towards him.

“Not literally, hyung!” Jisung protested just as he caught him, pulling him upright. 

Minho laughed gleefully, as he would the mischievous little devil. His lips cutely quirked and dark eyes gleaming with delight. For the Moon, Chan loved him. 

He made sure his young alpha was alright and agreed to talk with Jisung alone. Chan felt the loving call from Minho, a hopeful feeling warmed his heart as he trailed behind Jisung. His young alpha didn’t lead him far from the new clearing, quickly finding the sturdy oak by the creek. Chan felt a sudden déjà vu, except this time Jisung was the one asking him to sit at the boulder under the shade of the tree. 

Jisung tried to appear confident despite the nervous jitter of his leg and the slight sweat in his scent. His eyes were still slightly red from when he got emotional before. 

“So, I, uh…” Jisung scratched the side of his neck. “I’ve thought a lot about the talk we had and… First of all, I want to apologize for getting worked up and being so harsh about it.”

“Okay,” Chan replied after a bated breath.

“I still need my space. I don’t want you worrying about my bond or acting differently towards me because of it. But I’m sorry for how I spoke to you about it,” Jisung said resolutely, yet with a certain softness to his voice as if he didn’t want to sound too harsh. It took Chan by surprise as he couldn’t recall Jisung ever speaking that way towards him. “Honestly, one of the things I like about you is how caring you are, you know, as a pack leader. You make us feel important when you pay attention to us and remember such small details, when you’re all caring and doting, it’s…” His young alpha’s eyes flitted many times, too shy to admit all that while upholding eye contact. “I don’t want you to change who you are, hyung. I just…”

“You can’t stand it when I’m too much,” Chan stated with a small smile. “Because of…”

Jisung stared at him with widened eyes, causing Chan to snap his mouth shut. He wasn’t even sure how he meant to phrase it. But from his understanding, because of Jisung’s unrequited love for him, whenever he exceeded on doting on Jisung it ended up hurting his young alpha.

“It doesn’t feel good to you.”

“... yeah,” Jisung sighed out like an afterthought. 

Their conversation lulled to a halt. Chan tried to find comfort in the silence and take in the beautiful scenery of the plum blossoms past the stream as he waited for his young alpha to gather his thoughts. 

“Hyung.” Jisung sat up straighter, shoulders back and chest puffed out. “The things you said that day, I don’t agree with it. I don’t want just anything with you.”

“Oh…” Chan deflated, feeling more disheartened than he expected. 

“I don’t want to build something with you and Minho hyung, and just hope for your feelings to change. I want more.” 

“Oh.”

Jisung silently asked for his hand, palm up. Chan barely caught a glimpse as he placed a small object on top, hard and polished like stone, and covered it as he held his hand between his own. 

“Chan, I-” 

Chan stared in disbelief at the casual drop of honorifics, but Jisung’s face was set with determination. 

“I love you,” Jisung confessed wholeheartedly. 

Chan stopped breathing. 

“I’ve been in love with you for so long. And I’m tired of hiding it. But I’m also still so fucking scared.” His voice wavered but his hands held him tighter. “If we’re going to do this, then I want to do it right.”

Jisung uncovered the object. A rosebud set in amber. Chan felt incredibly amazed that Jisung found something so unique as a fossilized rosebud. However, the more he looked at it, the more he came to realize it wasn’t amber, but something man-made. Jisung made this.

“What…” He felt breathless. “What is this?” 

“It’s a courting gift.”

Chan stared back at him in utter shock.

“Chan, I want to court you to date you.” 

Chan fell speechless as his mind slowly processed the words that came out of his young alpha’s mouth. Court him. Court him. Jisung wished to court him because he wanted them to date. Jisung, daring enough to speak to him so casually, wanted to woo him and win him over by courting him. 

Jisung’s gaze faltered at his continued silence. “Hyung,” he called out, nudging his hand holding the gift, “Will you give me a chance to show you that I could be someone you could love?” 

“Yes.”

Jisung looked surprised, as if he couldn’t believe his answer. 

“Yes.” Chan smiled, chest warm as the word fell out so effortlessly. He hugged the amber against his body, “I accept.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes,” he chuckled. 

“For real?” Jisung asked more excitedly, a bright gummy smile adorning his face.

“Yes, Sungie. You have my blessing to court me,” he said with a soft smile, amused at how elated his young alpha was.

Suddenly he had his arms full of Jisung. His young alpha nearly leaped into him to hug him tightly. If Chan tucked his nose close enough, he could smell the sunshine in his petrichor scent. He wanted Jisung to remain this happy forever, but he knew that there was no way for them to move forwards without Jisung ever facing his demons. If Chan was to ever date him, he needed Jisung to confront his fears of discrimination and learn that the pack would always support him -support them. And Chan would face this new journey with him, every step of the way.

“Sungie, I have something to ask you.” 

“Anything.”

“I don’t want to keep this a secret from the pack.” 

Jisung’s face fell. A strike of panic widened his eyes and shifted his scent. 

“What we do, Sungie, is none of their concern unless you want to share it with them,” Chan explained, trying to placate him. “But I’m their leader. If I’m going to be courted, if I’m ever going to date someone besides Minho, I need them to know. I need them to be aware of the changes in my life so they can be prepared for it.”

Jisung nodded, slowly, hesitantly. 

“You know that the stability of the pack depends on my bond with Minho,” he continued. “We can do whatever we want. They don’t have to agree with all of my choices, they don’t even have to like my decisions. But what they do need is to feel that they can trust me to lead them despite it all.”

“Okay, hyung,” he softly condeeded. “I understand this is important to you.”

“It is.” He held onto his hand to give a little squeeze of appreciation. “I can announce it if you’d prefer.”

Jisung swallowed loudly and took a quick moment to deliberate. “No. I asked, I should do it.”

“We can do it together, with Minho.”

“Okay.” Jisung smiled, “The three of us, together.”

“The three of us.”

Chapter Text

The golden sun rays haloed the cotton clouds as the colorful sky blurred into a uniform blue. Jisung was no early bird, he hadn’t even seen the sunrise in a fair while. But Minho had dragged him out from the warm comfort of the bed and carried his slumberous frame into the kitchen. He huddled in his hoodie with his hands hidden in the belly pouch as he sat up on the counter -a perk he discovered from being Minho's boyfriend was that there were many things he could get away with without being scolded. Although he was up against his will, he didn’t complain, for he knew this was Minho’s way of wanting to spend pockets of time alone with him. Even if it meant spending a quiet morning together with Jisung all droopy-eyed and languidly molding his back against the cabinet, nearly becoming one with the furniture. 

His hyung had prepared hot water and left the teapot brewing on the opposite counter, right in front of him, now fixed and reconstructed with solid wood. Minho stood beside him, bent at the hips and leaning his elbows on the countertop as he scribbled on a sheet of birch bark with a stick of coal. His leader drew symbols of the ingredients he needed and added counter lines for the quantity he would require for each one. They had two days until New Year's Spring, so Minho was planning out the meals needed for the festivities. It felt nice to finally get a break from all the construction work and enjoy some fun time and delicious food with the packs -Jisung was especially excited for the sweet sticky rice cakes. 

It had been a labourful week, in which his hyungs were busy organizing and overseeing the repairs to their home, wanting to complete most of it before the weekend. With their friends' endless help, they’ve managed to repair the roofs of the workstation and kitchen, as well as create a new version of the campfire. Hyunjin truly flourished with his artistry, creating new seatings with the thicker logs, turning the trunks into benches with a backrest by simply carving out a quarter of its circumference along the length of the cylinder form. Smaller seatings were manufactured as well, overpopulating the perimeter of the campfire for their live-in guests to use. Jisung might’ve snagged one for his room, though everyone believed it had been Hongjoong. 

Chan additionally occupied himself with planning the rudimentary structure of the cabin Jisung designed. The task had felt daunting at first as multiple factors needed to be considered to keep the cabin warm and functional during the frigid winter. But Chan had extensive knowledge as he came from a big generational pack that built cabins to keep multiple families living together. And so, under his hyung’s guidance, Jisung felt reassured with the decisions he made. He chose to construct only two rooms and allocate more space for a living room and dining area. Deciding on a smaller structure would ultimately keep the cabin warmer, as the underground heat from the ondol wouldn’t have to spread out far, ensuring that the whole surface would remain warm enough to endure the winter. Besides, Jisung was only planning on taking Jeongin with him to save the youngest from sex-fest of the mating season. If anyone else ever decided to crash at the cabin, they could simply share rooms or, ultimately, camp out in the spacious living room.

Jisung didn’t care about making a cabin that could fit half the pack. He didn’t really care about the cabin at all. He just wanted to ease his hyungs worries and hope for the best -that this winter would be slightly better than the year before. And as long as Chan agreed and approved his ideas, then Jisung was content with the work they were making. Based on his initial input, Chan took care of designing the finer details, such as the underground tunneling for the ondol, the hollow-bamboo pipeline and the wells to supply the cabin with river water. In a week they had designed a tentative blueprint of the cabin. 

While Chan occupied himself with figuring out the important details and Minho was busy taking care of the packs -with Seonghwa making sure the lead omega didn’t bite anyone’s head off, Jisung ended up spending his time in getting physically healthier. Granted, a week wasn’t enough to achieve any visible change, but at least he started working out again. He would never admit how much he missed Changbin’s nagging when it came to form and reps. San and Yeosang often joined their work out sessions, their lean, sculpted bodies invigorated Jisung’s desire in earning his muscles back. Their presence motivated him more than Changbin’s, which he told the elder alpha, earning him an annoyed jab to the ribs. 

His active routine helped increase his appetite. His portions remained on the smaller size, but he liked seeing the pleased smile on Minho’s face every time he managed to finish a meal. The lead omega kept feeding him morsels throughout the day, always something he could easily eat within a bite or two. Sometimes Minho would send someone else to hand him a snack, enforcing his claim over him as Jisung’s boyfriend -which always made Jisung feel giddy inside. 

Just yesterday Minho confectioned an assortment of snacks for the holidays, like puffed rice, dried satly-gim, honey-soaked yakgwa, and more. Allegedly, he had many helping hands in the kitchen, but Minho didn’t let anyone munch on the snacks to save them for the weekend. However, he gave Jisung two yakgwa cookies when the young alpha passed by to pick up sap water. 

And Jisung couldn’t say he disliked his hyung’s favoritism. Not when it had Minho bringing out more cookies to share with him that early morning, while the rest of the packs haven’t even tried them yet. He couldn’t help from smiling at the giddy feeling that knowledge brought. 

Jisung rubbed the sleep from his eyes, focusing on the way Minho’s pouty lips wrapped around his forefinger. Minho frowned in concentration, biting on his nail while the other hand tapped against the birch sheet, double checking his numbers. Minho quickly glanced at him, as if he could feel him watching. 

There was another perk to becoming Minho’s boyfriend, one Jisung just couldn’t get enough of.

“Hyungie.”

Minho looked up at him with his big, beautiful eyes -even in the dark morning they seemed to glimmer. 

“Come closer.”

Minho grinned knowingly. “Why?”

“I wanna kiss you,” he answered, pulling on Minho’s sleeve.

The omega stood up to be at eye level with him -Jisung for once having a slight height advantage from where he sat. Jisung held onto the front of his hyung’s fur mantle and boldly pulled him closer. Minho closed the gap between their lips, holding onto Jisung’s knee to lean into him. 

They shared a long kiss, smooth and unhurried. Jisung couldn’t stifle the low content rumbling from within his chest, his bond warm and thriving under the feeling of Minho’s soft mouth against his own. He cradled his hyung’s handsome face between his hands, pulling him firmer and opening his mouth to explore with more eagerness. He felt Minho draw his hand higher up his thigh to keep balance. The omega squeezed his thigh firmly and it suddenly struck him how good he felt with Minho’s strong grip and his intoxicating sweet berries and citrusy bergamot scent enveloping his senses. 

Jisung broke away with a peck to his hyung’s soft lips, then he kissed the pointy tip of his nose, following up with his forehead.

“Do you need me to grind rice for flour?” he asked as he rubbed Minho's angled cheekbones. 

“No, Yiena already did it.” 

“Okay…” Jisung knew it was unreasonable of him to feel put down by that. He insisted on teaching Jeongin how to properly use the stone mills to create his own replacement for when he would be gone -he hadn’t even touched the mills since he returned home. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” 

Minho hummed, slowly blinking his eyes. “I need pine needles and mugwort for the rice cakes.”

“Okay, I’ll collect them.”

“Aren’t you going to work out with Changbin?”

“Nope. Hyung’s gonna help with the rice cakes, so I get a break today.” He pushed a lock of Minho’s hair behind his ear. “Besides, I’d rather help you out anyway. Changbin hyung’s nagging is starting to grate my nerves again.”

Minho smiled, tilting his head to the side as he quietly observed him. There was a teasing glint in his eyes.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Minho let out a short, airy chuckle and then quickly pressed their lips together. He kissed the edge of his mouth and then brushed his sharp nose along his cheek. “Hey, you remember that time you rigged a ddakji game against Seungmin?” he asked, leaning back to meet his eyes with mischief.

Jisung huffed out a breath. “Allegedly,” he corrected.

Minho grinned, “Allegedly.”

“Why?” Minho wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh… Who’s the poor bastard you got a bet with?”

Minho chuckled, tongue between his teeth. “Can you do it? Hypothetically.”

Jisung hummed, letting his hands fall to rest at the sides of his hyung’s neck. “Hypothetically, I can. But it comes with a price.”

“Oh?”

“You have to go on a date with me.”

Minho smiled, his eyes going soft and sparkly. “How about,” he leaned in closer, the tip of his nose ghosting against his own, “If I win, I’ll go on a date with you.”

“Huh, so I better make sure you win.”

“Yeah.”

“Deal.”

Minho sealed it with a deep kiss, one that captivated all his senses and made the world around them disappear. But just as quickly as he kissed him, Minho unexpectedly moved away, leaving Jisung leaning forwards with puckered lips. He let out a whispered complaint as he slumped back against the cupboard. Minho chuckled, back turned at him as he busied himself with serving the tea in three cups and adding a teaspoon of honey to one of them

Not a moment after, Chan appeared.

“Morning, Sungie,” Chan greeted with a gentle smile. 

“Good morning, hyung.” 

“Morning, love,” he greeted his mate as he stepped closer and softly brushed his hand on Minho’s nape, then down his back.

Minho turned to stare at him for a brief moment, gaze almost calculating. Chan tilted his head to the side in question, but then suddenly Minho kissed his cheek. A quick peck, a mumbled good morning, and then Minho’s attention was back to the teacups -his ears bright red. Chan stood stunned, eyes wide and hand touching his kissed cheek. 

It felt almost silly how such a simple gesture felt foreign to his hyungs simply because they weren’t used to someone witnessing their intimacy. They’ve always been so private about their relationship, especially since Minho was against displaying affection publicly -for whatever reason. But now that Minho and him were dating, they’ve been making an effort to show this side of themselves to Jisung, like he had asked them to nearly a week ago. It still caught Chan off guard, perhaps because this was the boldest Minho had been. And Jisung just couldn’t help smiling at them, feeling his treacherous bond glow warmer than a campfire. In an inexplicable way, he enjoyed being allowed to observe this intimacy between his hyungs. It felt special. 

“Here.” Minho pushed the sweetened tea towards their leader.

Chan’s shock melted into a bright, dopey smile, radiating so much love and happiness it was blinding. His eyes oozed with so much affection that it seemed like he was seconds away from hugging Minho and kissing him senseless. But he didn’t. Jisung couldn’t fathom how his hyung managed to contain himself and settle with a quick kiss to Minho’s temple and a whispered gratitude. He then lathered his scent on the omega, rubbing the underside of his jaw against Minho’s head and down his neck, ignoring Minho’s quiet grumbling. 

That kept happening. Whenever Chan caught a trail of Jisung’s scent lingering on his mate, he would rub his gland on Minho to mark him and settle his alpha, reaffirming that Minho was still his. Chan insisted that he was fine with them being together and all, but Jisung wasn’t sure how much of it was true and how much was just Chan trying to accommodate himself to them. Jisung didn’t dare kiss Minho in front of Chan yet, because he was unsure of how his leader would react. It was just another thing they would have to work through eventually. And although it made Jisung question his confidence in them working out, he couldn’t complain to the fact that it made Minho smell of Chan more often than not. Jisung loved the omega’s dark berries and bergamot scent, but adding Chan’s smokey vetiver and sandalwood enhanced the mixture of scents into a mouthwatering fragrance. Jisung couldn’t get enough of it.

“Enough, hyung,” Minho said disgruntled as he pushed him away. He gave their leader a pointed look, glancing briefly at Jisung. 

Chan lowered his head like a chastised pup. “I, uh…” He scratched his neck. “Sorry about that, Sungie.” Jisung pointed at himself, baffled. “I don’t mean to come off as territorial-”

“No, no, no,” Jisung quickly shot down, shaking his hands in the air. “It’s okay, hyung. I don’t mind. I, uh, I get it. It’s a… He's your mate and we, we're still so new. And it’s also kinda cute, so...” He shrugged his shoulders. 

“Cute?” Chan asked, taken aback. 

Oh shit. He felt his cheeks heat up. 

“I mean, like, you two, uh, together.” He scratched his neck, avoiding their eyes, “You two look cute together.” 

For the Moon, what did he say? 

Chan’s surprise morphed into a silly smile, while Minho looked as flustered as Jisung felt. Chan stepped closer to his mate. 

“Min-”

“No.” Minho turned him down before the other could say anything. “Drink your tea.”

Chan took the offered beverage, holding it close to his mouth as he leaned against the counter -his enamored smile never leaving. 

Minho gave Jisung a pointed glare as he returned to his side, handing him his tea. 

“What?” 

“You know what.”

“I’m just being honest.” Jisung grinned, amused at his hyung’s reaction.

Minho tsked his teeth and shook his head. He ignored them, turning his attention back to his sheet. Jisung offered a yakgwa cookie to Chan, holding the plate out for his hyung to reach. Chan hummed appreciatively after the very first bite, complimenting Minho’s work. The omega waved his hand dismissively. 

His hyungs discussed the plans for the days leading to New Year’s Spring. Today a group would help Minho make the rice cakes while the other group would handcraft the ddakji tiles and jegi shuttlecocks -a smaller group would assist Hyunjin with decorating the stoneware he made before cooking them in the furnace. Tomorrow a group would hunt in the morning and another group would help Minho cook the meals for the night and the weekend. And on Friday morning, the day of the Equinox, they would prepare the seaweed soup to celebrate becoming a year older. And then the festive games would begin.

“Are we going to play yut?” Jisung asked, his cheek full from eating cookies.

“No,” they simultaneously replied.

“We are not falling into that endless trap again,” Minho stressed.

“Yeah, and even if we play in groups we’re too many. We’d never see the end of it,” Chan agreed. 

“Okay, fair enough,” Jisung said. He liked playing yut, but with how competitive both packs were, it became more of a warzone than a leisure game -scratch that, every game they ever played became a battleground. 

“Which group do you want to work with today?” the lead alpha asked.

“Uhh…” he glanced at Minho, who discreetly flashed him a conspiratorial smile. “I guess I’d rather spend the afternoon making ddakji. Sorry for not helping you out, hyung,” he tacked on to play it smoothly. 

“It’s fine. As long as you collect the things I need.” 

“Sungie, you got some crumbs here,” Chan called out, touching the corner of his own mouth. 

Before Jisung could try swiping his face, Minho cleared the spot with his thumb. “You’re such a messy eater,” Minho mumbled not unkindly.

“‘m sorry.”

Minho sucked his thumb. “Will you?” 

Jisung stared dumbly, feeling his heart stutter. “Uh, ye-ah,” his voice cracked.

Minho looked down at his sheet, as if he did nothing out of the ordinary. “I’m going to need a lot of mugwort, so instead of a number I just need you to fill up some bags.”

He cleared out his throat, “Okay.”

He caught Chan observing them, silently and with an arched eyebrow. He didn’t seem put off, but he looked rather serious, enough for Jisung to feel self-conscious and touch his heated face. Chan gave him a close-lipped smile, something reassuring, and then drank his tea. 

It was weird to feel watched like that, to be on the other end of curiosity. He had grown used to studying his hyungs, searching for glimpses into their relationship and spying on their love. Now, the few times Chan observed them interacting, Jisung felt as if his hyung was making sure Jisung treated his mate right -which he regarded as completely reasonable. But now, well, Jisung wasn’t sure what that look meant. 

Lately, it became harder to read his hyung. Ever since his disastrous spiel of not wanting Chan worrying and taking care of him, well, things have been rather awkward between them. Far too many times had Jisung caught Chan reconsidering his actions and avoiding touching him at all, as if patting his head was too much for Jisung to handle. In all honesty, it was weird and Jisung wholeheartedly regretted the damage he had caused. He knew the best way to amend things was to spend more time with his hyung to relearn the boundaries he had set. But, aside from working on the cabin project, Jisung had done shit nothing to court Chan. He blamed his inaction on Chan's being busy, but, really, the courage he managed to build dwindled with each passing day, making it hard to ever try. 

“Sungie.” Minho pushed his shoulder to gain his attention.

“Huh?”

“I asked when you’re going.”

“Oh, yeah, uh, after breakfast. Does that work for you?” Minho agreed with a nod.

“Speaking of which, we should get breakfast started then,” Chan said. “I’ll heat up the leftovers.”

“Thanks,” Minho spoke softly.

Chan grazed his fingers along Minho’s back as he passed by.

“Wait, hyung,” Jisung quickly muttered. Chan stopped, looking back at him. “Do you have time today to hang out?” 

“Hang out?” Minho asked.

“Um, yeah, just Chan hyung and I. Alone.”

Minho grinned, “Like a date?”

“Uhh…” Jisung scratched his neck, averting his eyes as his face burned.

“I can make time after lunch. Will that be alright?” Chan answered. 

“Sure.”

“Okay.” Chan smiled rather shyly and then left through the right entrance to head to the storage room.  

Minho smirked and wiggled his eyebrows at him. Jisung, feeling embarrassed out of his life, tried to physically stop him, patting his forehead with his palm. But it only ended with his hand between his boyfriend’s teeth.

“Ouch, ouch, hyung! Come on!” Jisung cried out as he tried to push Minho’s face away. His hyung merely smirked around the bite, not budging one bit. 

“What’s going on? Why are you screaming so much?” Jeongin asked as he walked into the kitchen.

Minho finally let him free, turning to doodle on his birch sheet like nothing ever happened.

“He was trying to eat me,” Jisung complained as he massaged his teeth-marked hand. 

“You guys are weird,” the youngest mumbled. Jeongin snatched two cookies and devoured them in one bite before anyone could stop him. 

“Yien-ah,” Minho sighed out disapprovingly.

Jeongin smiled, cheeks stretched out from the mouthful and icy-eyes sparkling with mischief. He leaned into Minho’s side, perching his chin on his shoulder to scent him. That was surprisingly affectionate of him, so much so that Jisung struggled to remember ever seeing Jeongin scent the lead omega before. And Minho looked completely comfortable with him, he even brushed his fingers through his choppy bangs, like a silent greeting.

Well, if the pack’s baby alpha was in a good mood, then maybe Jisung could milk out some affection. 

“Innie, I nearly lost my hand,” he opened his arms invitingly, “Won’t you give your poor hyung a hug?”

Jeongin scrunched his nose, eyeing him up and down. “No.”

“Oh, Innie, buddy, you’ve been really distant with me lately. What about a lil’ pat on the head?” 

“No,” the youngest growled, startling both Minho and himself.

Jisung instinctively growled back, feeling ticked off by the younger alpha’s defiance. 

“Quit it. The both of you,” Minho ordered. 

Jisung quietened down, but Jeongin didn’t. The little shit smirked, as if he won the face off, and that pricked Jisung’s pride. He couldn’t help himself from growling louder, towering over him and flashing his teeth.

“Jisung, chill,” Chan sternly ordered, loudly placing a pot on the other counter. 

He glared at his hyung, displeased from being told off when he did nothing wrong. It was Jeongin who started it. But he couldn’t defy his leader, so he bit his tongue, silencing himself. 

“Jeongin, come here.” The youngest alpha scowled and stomped the two steps needed to face their leader. “You better watch that attitude.”

“I slept badly.”

“No excuses.” Chan crossed his arms. “If you wake up feeling temperamental, you deal with it in a healthy way. You exercise to destress the body or you put yourself to work to focus the mind. You don’t start petty fights. Understood?”

“Yes, hyung,” Jeongin said, lowering his head. 

“Good. Apologize to your hyungs.”

Jeongin faced them, his lips downturned into a petulant frown. “Minho hyung, Jisung hyung, I'm sorry.”

Minho accepted with a quiet nod, and even if Jisung felt the youngest didn't seem remorseful at all, he followed his hyung's lead.

“Now go set this pot on the fire.”

“Yes, hyung.”

Jisung watched the youngest grumble as he picked up the pot and left the kitchen. His gaze then caught his leader staring at him, arms still crossed over his chest and face displeased. 

Oh, his hyung was disappointed. In him. That sucked.

He slid off the counter to match his height. “I’m sorry. He growled at me outta nowhere and I just-”

“You know better, Jisung.”

Jisung clamped his mouth shut. He wanted to argue, to disclose his frustrations about Jeongin’s recent attitude towards him. He thought he imagined it at first, that it stemmed from Jeongin being stressed with everything being so chaotic since he got home. But now that things have calmed and settled, the tension remained, albeit more sporadic. Just last night, Jeongin refused to let him sleep next to him in the betas’ room, drowsily growling at him whenever he tried to get on the bed. In the end Jisung was forced to share a bed with Jongho. He knew in his gut that it was because the pup was an alpha now and they were doomed to butt heads from time to time -the Moon knew Jisung was a menace the first few months after presenting. Still, it was hard to deal with Jeongin’s sudden mood swings.

“Keep your alpha in check,” Chan lectured. “Jeongin’s still settling as an alpha. Don’t react if he gets confrontational, you’ll only spur him on.”

“Yes, hyung.” 

“Good.” Chan picked up a few things and promptly left for the campfire. 

Jisung knew he wasn’t in trouble, but he couldn’t help feeling wrongfully chastised. Sure, he should’ve remained level-headed, especially since it was such an insignificant reason to start a fight over, but it genuinely caught him by surprise. 

“Hey.” Minho held onto his shoulder. “Hyung's not mad at you. He's just doing his job.”

“I know,” he mumbled. 

“Yiena is learning, which means instead of fighting him you have to learn to correct his behavior,” he explained, speaking softly. “You're his hyung.” 

“I don't think I could ever scruff him, though. I don't want to scare him.”

Minho’s gaze turned fond at his response. The omega patted his head. “He’s okay with some scruffing. Just don’t catch any other part of his neck and he’ll be fine.”

“Feels weird though.” He thought about how he never scruffed the youngest, even as a pup. They might have fought a few times, but that was different. “I’ve only ever scruffed Seungmin before.”

His leader smiled at him, his gaze still fond, and was about to speak, but they heard footsteps and voices approaching. Instead, Minho held onto his wrist, squeezing three times and letting go before anyone could see them. Jisung felt like his bond melted into goo, giving him heart palpitations that required medical attention. 

Minho loving him was the best feeling ever.

After breakfast Jisung set out to forage on his own, wanting to find something to gift Chan and pick up the pine needles and mugwort leaves Minho needed. He made his way south-east, towards the narrow section of the river where the bridge was. He remembered that last spring Minho found a gathering of shrubs with the biggest tree peonies at the other side. It didn’t take long for Jisung to find the fluffy flowers of various hues of pink. He knew Chan would love any flower he’d give him, but Jisung wanted it to be his hyung’s favorite -especially after how uncomfortable it felt to be reprimanded today. He debated on the color for a while, settling for a different shade to not copy Minho. He took his time to pick out the most beautiful coral-petaled peony from the shrub. On his way back he leisurely collected the pine needles. 

The patches of mugwort were closer to the cave, a little far out in the thicket from where their crops were planted. When he was a quarter shy from filling up the bag Minho gave him, he heard a howl calling for him. It was Hyunjin and he sounded urgent. Jisung’s worry overtook his thought to answer the call and, instead, he rushed back home. At the clearing Hyunjin was looking towards the east side, hands near his face to howl again. 

“I’m here!” Jisung yelled, running up to the beta. “What happened?” 

Hyunjin looked surprised, worried gaze inspecting him. “You were gone.”

Jisung frowned, raising his satchel, “I was foraging.” 

“You, you took too long,” the beta said flustered. 

“Oh, did they already start with the rice cakes?” 

“Yeah. Yes, just get inside.” 

Hyunjin awkwardly turned him around and pushed him towards the kitchen. But once Jisung stepped inside, the beta disappeared behind him. He only managed to catch a glimpse of him scurrying inside the cave. Jisung was left confused at Hyunjin’s weird antics. Those inside the kitchen were preparing the dough, the ingredients that would color the rice cakes were untouched on the opposite counter. Plain rice cakes were white, mixing in squash gave yellow, toasted sesame seeds for black, berries for red, and mugwort for green colored cakes. 

Minho didn’t seem worried about him taking his time, he didn’t even look hurried with making the rice cakes. It made Jisung wonder what Hyunjin was on about. It wasn’t the first time he got a weird feeling of the pack being overly watchful of him, as if they were afraid he’d suddenly disappear again if they lost sight of him. It left an uncomfortable feeling in his gut -something akin to guilt, yet not quite solely reduced to that. 

He helped out washing the leaves he foraged and the pine needles, which they would later layer out to place the rice cakes on to steam. But he didn’t stay to help the other alphas with bashing the dough with blunt wooden hammers, over and over again until it became sticky. Instead he went into the cave, to his own room that was thankfully vacated, and hid the peony in a cup with water so it would remain turgid and fresh. 

He also searched for another gift from within his own belongings. From inside his wooden chest where he stored his clothes, he pulled out his woven shawl. It was an ancient thing, the sole surviving clothing he had from his past life, made from spun wool of goat undercoat and hare fur, with a polished bone brooch to secure it around the shoulders. It was such a time consuming material to make, expensive, that he never dared to part ways with it. His father bought matching pairs for his mother and himself, an anniversary gift, but she never wore it after his father abandoned them. So Jisung stole it. To this day he couldn’t believe how he managed to survive two winters with this as his protection against the cold. Granted, he was smaller back then, and could wrap himself up with the shawl like a blanket, but still, it wasn't the best garment for conserving warmth.

The piece of clothing was ladened with history. When he joined the pack, one of his first positive interactions with Hyunjin had been thanks to his shawl. It had snagged in some spots from where the wool had unthreaded, and Hyunjin knit it back together as flawlessly as he could. They also experimented on dying the shawl with hibiscus flowers. Jisung chuckled at the memories of the chaos that ensued, remembering how hard they debated with Seungmin about the correct minerals needed to help the dye deposit into the fabric. It took many trials to get the shawl from dirty beige to washed out pink and then finally to a dark burgundy, like a rich, mulberry red. 

Despite not using his shawl in so long, he found a small snag towards the corner. 

Well, fuck me.

Jisung hid the shawl in a satchel and exited his room. 

On the short walk from his side of the cave to the betas’ room he encountered Yunho at the intersection of the two halls. The tall alpha’s ever-present smile turned teasing as he approached. 

“Hi, Sungie,” he said, lifting his hand in greeting, only to move away before they could clap their palms.

“Hey.” Jisung, with his hand already lifted to high-five him, urgently brushed his hair to avoid embarrassing himself. 

Yunho chuckled as he passed him by, leaving towards the entrance. 

When he got to the betas’ room, Hyunjin was inside lounging on his bed, long limbs stretched out as he doodled on a sheet of birch bark. 

“Hey, hyung, are you done with making stoneware?” 

“Not quite. I got the first batch cooking up in the furnace,” Hyunjin replied, eyes focused on his hands. “Why?”

“Can you help me?” Jisung plopped down beside him, sitting legs-crossed. Hyunijn scowled as Jisung’s weight made the bed bounce, a sharp black line crossed over two of his drawings. “Ups, sorry.” 

“I’m busy,” Hyunjin muttered. 

“Oh, come on, hyung. I’m sorry I messed up your sketch, but I really need your help.” Jisung pulled out his shawl and stretched it out to find the snag. “You know I can’t knit for shit.”

Hyunjin groaned, flopping backwards onto the pillows. 

“Please, hyung. Please, pretty please.” Jisung shook him to annoy him into it, knowing it was easier to get Hyunjin to agree just to shut him up. “I promise I’ll make it up to you, whatever you want. Do you need more clay? I can collect some. What about leather strips for your hair or-”

“Oh my Moon, okay. Okay!” Hyunjin said exasperated, shoving his hand against the alpha’s mouth to shut him up. “I’ll do it.”

He pushed his hand away, beaming a bright smile. “Thank you, hyung.”

“Don’t mention it,” Hyunjin waved his hand dismissively as he got up to search for his knitting kit. 

“So, clay?” Jisung asked as the elder sat back down.

Hyunjin shook his head, no. “I got enough.”

“What do you want then?”

“Let me think about it.” Hyunjin shrugged his shoulders as he inspected the shawl. “The Moon, how you’ve managed to snag this again is beyond me. This is woven, not knitted.”

“So?”

“So it shouldn’t come apart as easily, you monkey,” Hyunjin berated, shaking his head. 

Jisung rolled his eyes at him and stuck his tongue out when the other wasn’t looking. 

“I can’t even remember the last time I saw this relic.” Hyunjin searched for a hook to catch the loose thread. 

“Hey! It’s not that old.”

“What do you even need it for anyway? It’s not like you wear anything but Minho hyung’s hoodie.”

“That’s not-” true. He was going to deny it, but at the older beta’s unimpressed side-eye, he shut up. Jisung exclusively wore the hoodie ever since Minho gifted it to him, to the point the fabric smelled more of himself than his boyfriend. “It’s for Minho hyung,” he shyly admitted.

Hyunjin paused, a smile slowly creeping on his face. “Are you staking your claim?” 

Jisung frowned, “We’re already dating.”

“So?”

“So why would I?” 

“Ugh,” Hyunjin huffed out, “You’re so unromantic.”

“Hey…” Jisung pouted, digging his nails into his thighs as he considered it. “Do you think it’s good enough for a gift?” 

Hyunjin hummed, deft fingers seamlessly knitting the thread back into its original woven pattern. “I think it’s sentimental and I know Minho hyung will appreciate it.” 

Jisung stared speechless. He did ask, but he didn’t consider Hyunjin to be so outright honest about his answer. And he’s sure he fucked up and made a weird face, because the beta went red, spluttering to come up with something. 

“It’s like, like, the only thing you’ve got that, that’s like only yours, no matter how old this is-”

“Hey!”

“-and, sure, you could’ve, like, made something new. But with Minho hyung’s hoodie, this makes sense, wear and tear and all.”

“Give it back,” Jisung tried to take it, feeling embarrassed. 

“No!” Hyunjin slapped his hands. “It’s fine! It’s a great gift. Stop! You’re gonna tear it again.”

Suddenly Hyunjin kicked him off the bed.

Motherfucker that hurt!

“Fine! Fine, whatever,” Jisung conceded, sprawled on the floor. “I won’t change my mind.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“You kicked me!” he complained, sitting up and leaning his elbows on the edge of the bed to glare at him. 

“Sorry,” Hyunjin apologized, and focused back on fixing the shawl. 

Jisung couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He debated making a bigger deal about it -his tailbone sure was going to bruise. But no, he needed to be on Hyunjin’s good side, at least until he finished knitting the snag. Then maybe he could complain about it. Maybe get Minho hyung to stuff him full of cloth.

“What are you snickering about, you gremlin?” Hyunjin narrowed his eyes at him. 

“Nothing.” He rested his chin on his hands, watching the elder work. Jisung found it funny how the blond’s brows would scrunch in concentration. 

“Hey, hyung.” Hyunjin replied with a distracted hum. “I know we’re supposed to favor making important shi-stuff, for the pack, but I lost my ocarina and I was wondering if I could commission one. For later.”

“How’d you lose it?”

“I took it with me for my trip, but I lost all my stuff,” Jisung shrugged. “So, can you? Actually, can I commission two? I want to give one to Innie.”

“Innie?”

“Yeah, as a presentation gift,” he explained, leaning his head against his hand. “To make up for not being here when it happened.”

“Yeah, sure. Later,” he agreed, inspecting the fabric closer as he tried weaving the loose thread back in. “It’s been rather quiet without you playing.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry I couldn't play music for your dates with Seungminnie,” Jisung said sardonically. 

Hyunjin froze. Not even his tattooed hands moved, suspended midair. Then he went back to finish securing the thread in place, sewing the loop in to avoid it from unthreading again. He suspirated as he stretched and felt the fixed shawl on his lap, inspecting his work. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner how lonely you were.”

Jisung frowned, completely taken aback by his comment. He felt absolutely blind-sided with the sudden change of topic.

“What?”

Hyunjin looked down at him, his thick brows tugged together with regret. “I’m sorry for making you third-wheel our dates when you probably wanted to have your own dates instead. It must’ve sucked.”

What the fuck?

“Dude, that was a job. What the heck are you on about?” 

“I…” Hyunjin’s golden eyes looked troubled. He swallowed thickly. “I just wonder how bad it must’ve been for you to, uh, to leave. I get that…that you needed time away with how messy everything got with Minho and Chan hyung. But we’re pack, Jisung. You’re not meant to be alone. I would’ve gone anywhere with you.” 

Jisung pinched the bridge of his nose. “Is this shit about not going to Soobin’s together?”

“You fucking disappeared,” he stressed

“Okay, fuck it. I’m sorry, hyung I’m sorry I left like that and went alone, but I didn’t think you’d make such a big deal out of it. Okay? I won’t do it again, so, just, drop it,” Jisung argued, feeling uncomfortable with the sequelae of his actions.

“No,” Hyunjin growled annoyed. “No, Sungie,” he said softer, sadder. “It’s not just about leaving. It’s about…It’s about how it got to a point where you felt better off alone.”

Jisung couldn’t quite tamp down the annoyance he felt. He had plenty of reasons, dire reasons, to justify leaving, the great majority of them being private. So why the hell did he need to listen to Hyunjin when the beta didn’t even know the half of it?

“It’s not a big deal, hyung. I’ve lived alone before,” he said dismissively as he stood up. Jisung pointed at the shawl, not even waiting for a reply, “Are you done?” Hyunjin carefully folded the shawl, but instead of handing it over, he hid it behind his back. “Oh, come on, hyung.”

“Sit, we’re fucking talking about this.” Hyunjin patted the space in front of him. 

Jisung narrowed his eyes, “Are you going to kick me off again?”

“Just sit.”

Jisung hurried to sit on the bed, not wanting Hyunjin to lose his temper again. 

“I… You… I don’t know, I just… I regret not noticing how alone you were.” Hyunjin let out a long breath as he pushed his hair back. “I guess I was so used to the life we had that I didn’t consider that you wanted to have a mate. And in hindsight it feels so dumb to not have noticed. Everyone else found love and were in a relationship, while you were left alone.”

Jisung huffed out a breath, annoyed at how wrong Hyunjin’s observation felt. His grievance with the pack had absolutely nothing to do with feeling lonely, and had everything to do with falling in love and bonding with his lead alpha. Not that Jisung would ever admit that, though. 

“I didn’t feel like I was left alone or whatever. Even if I third-wheeled your dates, it was because I agreed to it. You guys paid me to play music, that’s all.”

“You didn’t feel lonely while doing it?” Hyunjin asked, concerned. 

Jisung faltered. His mouth couldn’t access the automatic rebuttal he defaulted to. No, instead his dumb brain actually took the moment to consider and think about it, because the truth wasn’t buried under a thousand layers of denial anymore. 

Hyunjin looked struck with remorse. His golden eyes glimmered and Jisung was ten seconds to panicking because he could not deal with Hyunjin crying. He’d rather lose a petty fight than deal with Hyunjin’s tears.

“Hey, it’s okay, hyung. It’s done and over with, and everything kinda worked out in the end. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jisung sighed. “There’s literally nothing you need to be sorry about.”

“But I am,” Hyunjin said as he wiped his tearful eyes. “I’ve been a shitty hyung to you. I didn’t take care of you. I didn’t make life easier for you. I just, fucking got pissed at you whenever I felt you were being unfairly mean.”

Yeah, you did , Jisung thought as he rubbed his forehead. But the beta wasn’t completely at fault, for Jisung had been unfair towards the elder far too many times. 

“We’re pack, Jisung. You shouldn’t ever feel lonely in your pack,” Hyunjin lamented. “I should've known better and realized sooner, because I know what that feels like.”  

Jisung’s mind halted. “What?”

“Ugh,” Hyunjin covered his eyes with his tattooed hands, drawing his knees up to appear smaller. “My old pack kept me separate from the litter as a pup.”

Jisung blinked surprised at the revelation. “Why?” he asked after a beat.

“It’s stupid,” Hyunjin bitterly chuckled. “They didn’t want me to get hurt rough-housing with the rest, like they were afraid I’d chip a tooth or break a bone or whatever. They wanted me to be the perfect golden wolf so they could-” he lowered his gaze as he let out a quivering breath, “so they could use me to breed perfect golden pups.” 

Jisung felt a burning fury. He was aware of some of the harsher truths of Hyunjin’s past, but the beta was never one to talk about it. There was a reason the b-word had to be banned in the first place, because Hyunjin had been subjected to the derogatory term as a pup. Jisung knew this, but still, it angered him to the core to be reminded of it. 

“I know my past was completely different to yours,” Hyunjin continued, his eyes still wet even if he seemed more put together. “But I was so fucking lonely too, Jisung.” 

As much as he hated to argue about this, Jisung couldn’t help himself but to point out the discrepancies. “Back then I was alone because no one liked me, hyung,” he corrected, feeling irritated at how far off Hyunjin was. “I wasn't treated differently because I was special like you. I was the weird one, shunned from the pack to the point I had to fend for myself. Hyung, I had to work for food.”

“But you got to be you,” the elder emotionally said, as if it hurt him to say it. “As harsh as it was, you got to grow into becoming yourself. You had freedom, independence, and you learned so fucking much. I wasn’t allowed to be me. They locked me up and then forced Yeji and I into living together so we’d sync.” Hyunjin broke at the end, tears spilling out of his red-rimmed eyes. “I wasn’t treated right either, Jisung. Being special means shit nothing if you don’t get to be yourself.” 

Fuck. That hit something deep that Jisung could not deal with, not when Hyunjin was crying like this. 

He crawled closer to sit beside him and wrap a comforting arm around his shoulders. Jisung rubbed his back as Hyunjin slumped against his side, their height differences made their angles awkward as Hyunjin was the type to forget how long he was. 

Even though Hyunjin was an emotional guy, they were rarely the duo to have heartfelt conversations. Jisung could count in a hand the amount of times he’s ever had to comfort the eldest beta, and each time he felt ill-equipped and unhelpful. This time was no different.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like, like being considered special and wanted made it an excuse to treat you like that,” he said, trying to soften his voice. 

“I know,” Hyunjin sniffled. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to make this about me. I’m just…”

“It’s okay, hyung.”

“I’m sorry for all the times I made you feel like I disliked you, or if I made you feel alone, or-” 

“Hyung, it’s really okay,” he interrupted, trying to cut the conversation short. “I haven’t been the best towards you either. I… I’m sorry too.”

The beta managed to tuck himself into a ball as Jisung hugged him tight, stretching his neck to poke Hyunjin’s head with his chin. There never really was any bad-blood between them, just pettiness and inane grudges. They were just two temperamental wolves good at getting on each other’s tails, but Jisung never wished him any harm nor pain. 

It felt odd to hold Hunjin like this, curled into him and making himself as small as possible, as if Jisung was the hyung meant to protect him instead of the other way around. Hyunjin turned his head to face him, there was something indecisive in his misty eyes. He stared for a beat too long, making Jisung feel rather uncomfortable. 

“What?”

“I…” Hyunjin shrugged as best as he could. “I should’ve told you how grateful of you I am instead.”

Jisung felt his brain stopped working for a split second. 

“What?” His voice raised, baffled.

Huynjin chuckled, teary-eyed and all. “When Chan hyung let me stay, I let my hair grow and I’d tie leather and strings in it. I got to dress like I wanted and paint my face with kohl.” He laughed softly, his mood lightening, “I would make Felix draw freckles on my face just so I could stop looking the way I did. Because I thought if I stopped being the perfect golden wolf, then if my old pack ever found me they wouldn’t want me back. Because fuck, I never wanted to go back to that life.” 

“I know,” he whispered. Jisung squeezed his side, pulling him against him and leaning his head on top of the elder’s. “Chan hyung would never let that happen.”

“Yeah, but I was still scared,” Hyunjin confided. “And then you came up with the tattoos and I finally felt safe.” 

Jisung swallowed harshly, suddenly feeling heavy with a responsibility that felt too big to be his. “Hyung, no, that…”

“I know it might seem silly, but it means the world to me.” Hyunjin sat up, wiping his face with his sleeves and completely avoiding his gaze. “When I let Channie hyung ink me, I finally felt like I could be me. And I, I was so damn happy I wanted to tell you but you gave me such a hard time then.”

“Fuck,” he whispered as he rubbed his forehead, remembering back to his immature years. He felt an inordinate sense of remorse for how stupid and cruel he had been. Oh, I’m a certified asshole, he thought.

“I know we never saw eye to eye back then,” the beta continued after he procured a tissue. “Can you tell me why though?”

Jisung bit his lip. He couldn’t. But he felt guilty for having harbored such a childish and idiotic resentment towards Hyunjin back then, when the elder never deserved it in the first place. 

“I don’t remember how it started, but that’s when our bickering got worse and we ended up fighting for real. Do you remember?”

“It’s so stupid,” Jisung groaned, hiding his shame behind his hands.

Hyunjin held onto his shoulder, “Come on, Jisung, if it changed everything so bad, it can’t be that stupid.” Jisung vehemently shook his head. “Please?”

“I…” He peered at him through his fingers, “I was jealous.” 

Hyunjin’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Jealous? Of me?”

“Is that so surprising?” 

“Well, considering the colorful insults you’ve come up about me, yeah.” Jisung chuckled at that. “What the fuck were you even jealous about?”

“Fuck, this is going to make me look like such an asshole,” he lamanted, but Hyunjin kept silently insisting for the truth. “I came up with the tattoo idea for Chan hyung. You know how he’d walk around with drawings on his arms. He’d let you and Lixie scribble on his skin.” 

He left out knowing that the main reason Chan drew on his skin was for Minho -that was a knowledge too precious to share.

“I remember he said he wished he could keep them forever. So…”

“So you made it for him.” Hyunjin looked like he told him the most heartfelt story ever, his eyes shiny with emotion instead of tears. “And I ruined that for you, because I got it the way.”

Jisung sighed out, smiling softly as he went through his memories. Back then he had thought that creating a permanent way to tattoo their skin would give him something in common to bond over with Chan. But not considering Hyunjins’s natural interest in body art was myopic of him. And of course the blond beta was going to be incredibly talented at it and end up working with Chan instead of Jisung. 

“In retrospect, it’s all kinda dumb,” Jisung said with a weak shrug of his shoulders. “Obviously hyung was going to choose you, the only other member who could decently draw. And you guys were like this synergistic duo, coming up with different techniques and awesome designs.”

Hyunjin nibbled on his lower lip, his eyes downcast with guilt. 

“So yeah, I was angry at you. I just couldn’t tell you why,” he admitted. “And I… I’m sorry for how childish I was and for taking out my frustration on you. It’s just…” 

Hyunjin let out an exhausted breath as he looked up to the ceiling. “You idiot.”

“I know… I’m sorry.”

Hyunjin slumped against him, slinking an arm around his shoulders to pull him into a half-hug. Jisung bit on his tongue to stop himself from growling in defiance. There was an innate tension whenever the older beta used his rank above Jisung’s that caused him to react before his head caught up with his instinct. 

“I’m sorry for butting in, Sungie.”

“Yeah, well… It’s okay. Look at the brightside, now I’ve got these cool tattoos because of you.”

Hyunjin chuckled, but it came out flat. “Did you already like Chan hyung back then?” 

Jisung froze, the answer stuck inside his throat. To answer that would lead to admitting all the wrongs he put his hyungs through last winter. However, his silence was incriminatory. Hyunjin hung his head closer, eyebrows scrunched together in scrutiny.

“You can tell me, Jisung,” he whispered. “I…I know I haven’t been the best to you-”

“Hyung-”

“But I want to try,” he said, his sincerity pouring out of his golden eyes. “I know you had Binnie hyung to help you out before. But if you ever need someone to talk to, someone to be on your side, I want you to count on me. Okay?”

Jisung nodded, because what else was he to do? He didn’t want to talk about his feelings towards his hyungs and all his dumb decisions panicking from it, but agreeing with Hyunjin seemed like the best way out without starting an argument.

Hyunjin hugged him tighter, it was slightly awkward with how they still sat beside each other. Jisung appreciated it for what it was: a silent apology and a promise to do better. 

But still, Jisung didn’t want to speak. 

“Hyung, I, uh, gotta go.”

“Okay…” Hyunjin held out the fixed shawl, but he didn’t let go when Jisung grabbed it. “I know what I want.”

“What?”

“In exchange for fixing your shawl, you said anything,” Hyunjin reminded him with a hopeful gaze. “I want to know the truth. I want to know where you went.”

Jisung frowned, “That’s not fair.” 

“Well, neither is being fooled into believing we’d go together to Soobin’s just for you to run off.” 

Jisung gritted his teeth together, holding in the incipient growl. He did not want to argue. He was done. 

Hyunjin let out a sigh -his gaze still sad, still disappointed in him. “You know, for someone with such a transparent scent, you’re awfully good at lying.” 

Jisung pulled away once the beta let go, cradling his shawl to his chest. “Thanks for the help,” he muttered, unable to tamper down his annoyance in his tone, and walked out of the room. 

After lunch, Jisung led Chan into the forest. They walked north from the cave, passing the cabin construction site until they came across a small clearing where they could lay on the sunlit grass. Chan sat under the shade of a blossoming plum tree, reclining his back against the trunk. He let out a sigh as he relaxed, the spring breeze tousled his ash-brown hair. Jisung sat beside him, his body stiff and awkward from his nerves. 

This was their first official date and Jisung felt absolutely unprepared. He felt off as if they were starting on the wrong foot. The reprimand he got that morning kept running around in the back of his mind and made him wary of how to approach his hyung. Unlike the steadfast comfort he felt when being with Minho, everything about Chan felt different and daunting. 

He couldn’t help thinking that there was something inherently wrong with what they were doing. 

With Felix’s imaginary voice encouraging him in his mind, Jisung took a big breath and searched inside his satchel, picking out the coral-colored peony. 

“Hyung, this is for you.”

Chan smiled, surprised at the gift. “Thank you,” he said and brought the flower close to his face to smell the sweet aroma. 

He brushed the fluffy petals against his face, smiling the whole time. Jisung felt his heart squeeze and flutter. It was unfathomable how gorgeous his hyung looked. 

Chan lowered the flower, eyes fixed upon it. “It’s beautiful,” he said, caressing the soft petals with his thumb.

And even though Jisung believed him, there was something in Chan’s demeanor that did not match his enthusiasm. He looked contemplative and that worried Jisung, made him doubt he picked the right color or even the right flower.

“It’s your favorite, right?”

“Hmm?”

“The peony.” Jisung bit his lower lip, already seeing the answer in his hyung’s gaze,

“Not really, but I love them just the same,” Chan assured with a smile. 

Well, Jisung failed his first try. Damn it…

“Oh… I, um, I thought it was your favorite because of the floral frame Minho hyung made for you. He was pretty adamant on needing the peonies.”

Chan shook his head, no. “He made it out of the favorite flowers of the ones I love, my family.” He made a silly face as he reconsidered his words. “Well, excluding the pack. It was meant to commemorate our beginnings.”

“Oh…” Jisung swallowed thickly, feeling his chest tight. He didn’t know the depth of it. He didn’t understand the symbolism of it, and yet he interfered anyway. 

“You know that my old pack was big and we all had our own cabins.” Jisung nodded along, trying to keep his face neutral while biting his lip. “My mum has a garden. She grows many flowers, roses, daylilies, sun flowers, and many more. My father loves the blue irises, they are the darkest flowers of the plot. And my mum,” Chan smiled brightly, his eyes seeing memories Jisung could not visit, “Azaleas are her favorite. We have some huge shrubs growing in a corner of our yard, but they don’t need much tending. She’d prune them from time to time, but they flourished on their own. They are her wild children,” he chuckled. “The rose bushes though…the roses are her babies.”

He knew his hyung loved his family, which made him feel more of an idiot for messing with Minho’s gift. 

“Does she grow peonies too?” 

“No, only roses.” Chan scratched his cheek, almost shyly. “Um, Minho chose the peonies to represent us as a couple. I really love what he made, because it reminds me of them.” He paused, looking directly at Jisung. “Well, actually, what you two made.”

Oh shit, Minho told him. His hyung wasn’t kidding when he said he talked about everything with his mate. Jisung felt his face go red, embarrassed for being called out like that. He didn’t even know how to begin apologizing for it. 

“Thank you,” Chan said warmly. “Thank you for helping Minho make it. It’s really beautiful.” 

He nodded silently, too dumbfounded to speak. He didn’t like taking credit for it, not when he did it without understanding the depth of Minho’s message to his mate. And because of his ignorance, he dared gift Chan the flower that symbolized his relationship with his mate on their first date. 

Fucking awesome, Jisung, you absolute fool. He wanted to get closer to Chan, and he probably made things awkward by copying Minho. However, he wondered-

“Why do peonies make you think of Minho hyung?”

The corner’s of Chan’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, looking down at the peony in his hand. “You wanna guess?”

Jisung considered it for a moment, wanting to prevent sticking his foot in his mouth this time. “Because of the many petals? Like, Minho hyung is beautiful, like a peony, but he has many layers to him. You need to get to know each one to reach the middle, his heart.”

His leader stared surprised, his green eyes shiny. “Wow, that's really pretty. I should’ve thought of something like that.” 

“It’s not it?”

“No,” he chuckled. “It’s much more simple than that.” 

“What is it then?”

“I can't tell you.”

“What? Why not?” Jisung couldn’t help raising his voice, his curiosity already piqued.

“Because Min will get mad if I do,” Chan teased, tongue between his sharp teeth.

Jisung grumbled, too invested to be turned down like that. “Is it something embarrassing?”

“Well…” His leader hid his amused smile behind the peony. “I think it's funny.”

“Oh, come on, you have to tell me. Don’t leave me hanging, hyung. Please, please, please.” Jisung upped his cuteness, knowing his hyung was a sucker for his puppy eyes. 

“Okay, okay. But you can't tell anyone else about this or Minho will seriously get upset. And if he ever finds out you know, it's all on you,” he poked his side. 

“I’ll take the blame if need be,” he jokingly swore, hand to his heart, knowing his hyung wasn’t being serious. 

Chan laughed airily as he shook his head. “Okay.” He took a big breath, “It reminds me of Minho because he couldn't eat it.”

Jisung frowned, befuddled. “Eat what? The flower?”

“Yeah.”

“What?” He nearly screamed, making Chan laugh. “Wait, no, hold up. I need context, hyung.” 

Chan was already doubled over in hysterics. Jisung had to jostle him around to get him to listen. 

“Come on,” he whined, impatiently. 

“Okay, okay. So-” he took a moment to catch his breath, “When I first was trying to get Minho’s attention, I gave him a thornless rose. I looked for the most beautiful red rose from my mum’s garden and cut the thorns off because I didn't want him to hurt himself when he'd receive it. And he didn't like it.” He shook his head, eyes like moon crescents as he couldn’t stop smiling. “He said that I ruined the flower and took away its protection from predators.”

“What? What predators?”

“Exactly my reaction!” Chan said elated, on the brink of laughing. “So, reasonably, I asked what predators? And Min, he-” Chan broke, fighting through his laughter to speak, “he said: me, and he shoved the rose into his mouth.” He cackled, joyous tears collecting at the corners of his eyes. “Tore it apart and ate it.” 

Jisung stared in disbelief, smiling at the stupidity and his hyung’s infectious laughter. “You're joking. You have to be.” 

“I swear I'm not,” Chan guffawed. “I swear to the Moon.”

“What the fuck?” he gasped out, chuckling along his hyung’s sweet laughter. “What the fuck?” he repeated  loudly, “He really did that?”

“Yes! And he did it again when I gave him a big orange daylily and then with a bouquet of yellow marigolds. Mind you, none of them have thorns in the first place,” Chan went off on a rant, laughing the whole time. “I even gave him a huge lotus flower. Do you know how hard it is to find those? Min didn’t even care. He scrunched it up and ate it!”

“That’s insane.” Jisung laughed at their silliness.

“Every flower I gave him, he would eat. He even ate a red camellia and those taste horrible.”

“Wait.” Jisung sat taller, peering at his hyung suspiciously. “How do you know that?”

Chan covered his face, giggling aphonically. “‘cause he dared me to try one.”  

Jisung playfully scowled at him.

“Look, we were young and foolish. So we had fun doing dumb shit,” the elder defended himself. “And,apparently, you’re supposed to only eat the petals and remove all the bitter bits. But we didn’t know. We were just doing it for fun.”

“Uh huh, yeah, sure,” Jisung mumbled. Chan rolled his eyes at him. “So, the peony? How’d that go?”

Chan chuckled, shaking his head as he gazed down at the coral-petaled peony. His eyes looked dreamy as he thought of the memory -as if what happened was some romantic escapade rather than Minho eating floral gifts just to mess with Chan. 

“I looked for the biggest, fluffiest looking pink peony to give him. You know, those huge full ones that are double-bloomed. He couldn’t compact it like he did with the lotus. But he’s stubborn, so he tried anyway and he-” he broke again, doubling over in laughter, “he actually choked on it. I had to help him.” 

Jisung felt so fond of him, and, in association, fond of Minho as well for being able to make Chan laugh like this. It was the hardest he’s ever seen Chan laugh and his happiness was worth remembering forever. 

He had once wondered why his hyungs were together, back when he was new and ignorant to the pack. Minho came across as unaffectionate and distant towards his mate, while Chan was so jovial and doting towards everyone -it didn’t make any sense. Why would someone so energetic and loving be mated with someone so aloof? But shortly he discovered what a true menace Minho was and that Chan actually liked that. 

Maybe he liked that a bit too much.

Chan wiped the happy tears from his eyes, “After that Min started accepting the flowers I gave him.” 

“For the Moon, he was such a menace.”

“Was?” His hyung guffawed. “He still is! The other day I nearly chipped a tooth because he tripped me over to get my attention.” 

“Shit,” Jisung chuckled. 

“Yeah,” Chan sighed, hand to his chest. “Loving Minho can be hazardous, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

He said it so honestly, so openly, that Jisung could feel the love radiating off him. His smile was so precious that Jisung wished he’d one day be able to be the reason for his hyung to smile like that. At least once in his lifetime. 

Chan’s smile dropped. “Oh, I’m sorry, Sungie.”

“Why?” Jisung worried, wondering what went wrong. 

“This time was meant for us to get closer and all I’ve done is to talk about Minho.”

He sighed out in relief. “Don’t worry, hyung. I like hearing stories about you two. You’ve always been so private, so getting to learn more feels special,” he admitted, feeling his heart jitter with the confession. “It does make me feel closer to you. Well, to you both. And…” 

And it makes me happy, he wanted to say, but for the moment it felt too much. Too personal, too revealing, too soon. The words stuck to the walls of his lungs like a film of lead, heavy and suffocating. 

“And?” Chan looked expectantly at him. 

“Well…” He shrugged his shoulders, trying to come off as nonchalant. “It might make me sound selfish, but I like knowing things about you that the others don’t.”

His leader laughed, amusedly. He bumped their shoulders together, “How about you tell me something I don’t know about you this time.”

“Like what?”

“Well… Why is the mugunghwa your favorite?”

“Oh, umm… I don’t have an epic reason like Minho hyung.”

“Hey!” His hyung poked his side. “Don’t mock my mate.”

“I’m not! I’m genuinely not.”

“Come on. You have to have a reason. At some point of your life you decided you liked them best. Why?”

Jisung pulled his knees to his chest, propping his head on his arm. “When I lived alone, I had a pet praying mantis for a while. Her name was Magwi and she would hunt the aphids that stuck to the mugunghwa leaves.” 

Chan smiled warmly, his eyes looked so soft, as if his reason held the same value as Minho’s. That did something to his cursed bond, making it feel heftier than normal. 

“That’s nice, Sungie.” He leaned back, resting his head against the trunk. “Magwi the samagwi, huh?” 

“Oh, yeah. I was so fucking creative,” he joked. 

“How did you know it was a female mantis?”

“She was big and had a swollen abdomen, that's an obvious giveaway. And also ‘cause she ate her baby daddy’s head.” Chan’s eyebrows flew up his forehead. “And, well, the rest of him I suppose. I don’t know, I didn’t stick around to watch.”

“But you watched them at it?”

“No!” he quickly denied, making Chan laugh. “No, I didn’t do it on purpose. I was just looking for her to check if she was around and I just happened to see them still, you know.”

“Copulating?”

“Ew, hyung, that’s such a gross word.”

“It’s a factual word, grow up.”

“You’re making it sound weird. They’re just bugs.” 

“Bugs you watched copulate,” Chan teased. 

“Forget it,” he grumbled, moving away. 

But his leader pulled him by his arm, startling a weak growl out of him. Chan snickered as he draped his arm over his shoulders, keeping Jisung tucked next to him. 

“Why are you being so grumpy? Hmm?” His leader squeezed him in, forcing his shoulders to hunch and appear smaller. 

It was a common thing Chan would do to him; from an alpha to another alpha, he’d impose himself physically and keep Jisung down, innocuously asserting his rank. His tone of voice and affection came across as fraternal, in such a characteristically Chan way. His hyung had always been friendly and cuddly in a painfully obvious platonic way -his love for his pack was palpable. It bummed Jisung out, making him unsure of how to make things different between them. 

The lull in their conversation stretched to the point Jisung started feeling ants crawling up his skin -both figuratively and literally. Bugs? What was he thinking, he berated himself. Why, in the ever-loving name of the Moon, did he think talking about insects would ever be a suitable topic for a date. 

Genius, Jisung, you absolute dumbass…

How he won over Minho's heart was beyond him. But, well, considering Minho's history with romantic gestures, maybe he never needed to do much at all. With Chan, however, Jisung felt he was at a loss. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to say. 

When he brushed off the itchiness of the critters creeping up his arm, Chan moved and slipped away.

“Sorry.” He sounded stiff, as if he thought he made Jisung uncomfortable.

“You’re fine. It’s just, uhm, ants.” Jisung scratched his bitten arm.

“Oh, okay.” Chan looked hesitant, his attention drifting south towards their cave. Jisung didn’t hear anyone howling for them to return, but Chan stood anyway. “Let’s walk back. There’s still so much to do.”

Jisung kept his gaze down to avoid looking disappointed. He knew he couldn’t be selfish about wanting to have more of Chan’s time to himself -the past week had been proof enough of just how busy and dedicated his leader was to their pack. But he wanted more. He needed more, so he could find a chance to impress his leader, for he didn’t feel like he made any progress with courting Chan at all.

“Come on.” Chan offered his hand and helped him up. Jisung nearly tripped when his hyung pulled him closer, making sure he stood right beside him and followed his steps before dropping his hand. The simple action felt reassuring enough for Jisung to know that Chan wasn’t cutting their time short because he didn’t want to be with him. They simply needed to head back to work.

“Thank you for this, it’s really pretty,” Chan said, holding the peony close to his chest. “I appreciate the gesture and I know it's a tradition for courting, but you don’t have to give me a present each time we hang out. I just want to spend time with you like this. Just us.” 

Jisung lifted his gaze to appear as earnest and confident as possible. “But what if I want to spoil you with gifts?”

Chan smiled, covering his mouth with the fluffy coral-petals, “Sure, buddy.” 

That buddy hit Jisung right in the gut. How unfair was it for his hyung to look so ridiculously adorable, shying away behind a delicate flower, only to sucker punch him and ruin the moment by calling him buddy.  

For the Moon, this date was going worse than he thought. 

He shouldn't have rushed it. He should’ve planned better and waited after the New Year’s to ask him out to a proper date, one where he would’ve prepared food and more gifts and maybe played some music. He should’ve pestered Minho more to get him some advice, even if his boyfriend only gave him a cryptic ‘break Chan’s nose, it worked for me’ as an answer -he still didn’t get the full story of that particular anecdote. 

Jisung was tempted to ask Chan about it, but he wasn’t sure if talking about Minho again was a good idea. He kept cycling through topics in his mind as the silence between them dragged on. 

In the end, it was Chan who broke it. 

“You remember the azaleas?” Chan asked and he hummed in response. “They attracted lots of bugs. One time I saw one of those huge longhorn beetles, the one that you like.”

“Relictus? Seriously?” Jisung perked up in interest, mind already racing into his backlog of coleoptera information. “The big black and brown one with two bright hairy spots behind its head and a thick jaw?”

“Yeah, that one!” Chan said enthusiastically. “No one believed I saw it. But I did!”

“On an azalea? Weird,” Jisung commented, impressed. “They're hard to find as is. They’re wood borers, hyung, like elm and poplar trees, not shrubs. That’s probably why they didn’t believe you.”

“But I did see one,” his hyung insisted. “It was massive.”

“I believe you,” he chuckled. He didn’t think talking about bugs again would be a good idea, but since Chan brought it up first well… “They're so cool. Up top with the stag and rhino beetles. Honorable mention to the weevil beetles.” 

“Weevil beetles? Seriously?”

“What? They’re pretty diverse and cute. Their big round eyes and long snouts make me believe they’re just trying their best.”

“At what?” Chan laughed. 

“At life, hyung. There are like no thoughts behind those eyes, so they just have to keep at it.”

His hyung shook his head, smiling. “My mum hated them because they kept getting into the rice sacks.”

“They’re just trying their best, hyung,” Jisung insisted, making Chan crack into laughter. “How are they supposed to know that easily accessible food is actually theft? Let the little guys live.”

“Shut up,” Chan laughed, playfully pushing him. “Because of them, we always had to cover the rice with bay leaves to keep them away.”

“So? We do that too.”

“No, Sungie, I mean like fully covered. We’d cut down whole branches full of bay leaves and just chuck it on the rice.”

“Oh, shit, That bad?”

“Yeah.” 

“Well, I guess having a colorful garden could contribute to that. More flowers, more bugs,” he reasoned.

“Probably, yeah,” Chan agreed. He hummed in thought. “There were a lot of jewel beetles too. Most of them were drawn to the azaleas and roses.” 

“Oh, hyung, those are so cool. I’ve wanted to make something out of them for so long now, but I haven’t collected enough. I’ve got, like, five and a half forewings.” He momentarily stopped walking, catching Chan’s attention. “But they are also wood borers, like the relictus longhorn.”

“Oh really? They’re my mum’s bane of existence ‘cause they like eating the flowers and shrubs.”

Jisung frowned, bewildered. “What kind of jewel beetles were they? What did they look like?”

“Oh, umm, like metallic green, sometimes with a red line on the sides. And spots, on the wings, black dots of different patterns. Umm, yeah, that’s pretty much it.”

“Were they kinda small and box-oval shaped?” He tried to demonstrate the shape with his fingers.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, hyung, no, those aren't jewel beetles, they're jewel bugs.”

Chan looked at him silly. “What? Isn’t that the same thing?”

“No, not even related, hyung. They’re just both called jewel because of the metallic, iridescent colors.”

“Oh…”

“Jewel bugs don’t even have hardened forewings like a beetle. They just look like they do because of the metallic shield, but it’s just their back, it doesn’t separate like forewings,” he explained, picking up their pace again. “Actually, they’re closer related to a stink bug than a beetle. And they’re like pests, like aphids, and munch on plants and flowers, like roses. There are these metallic blue and red ones, called harlequins, that particularly go for hibiscus flowers. And-” 

Shit, did he just go on a rant, lecturing his hyung about the difference between a bug and a beetle? He felt mortified at how uncool and unromantic it was. Chan tilted his head, smiling as he attentively waited for him to continue. 

“Uh, sorry, I didn't mean to go off like that.” 

“It’s fine. I’m listening,” Chan reassured. 

But Jisung already felt self-conscious and couldn’t fathom what to say anymore. 

“How did you learn all this?” Chan asked after a beat of silence.

“Oh, uh, you remember that I sometimes worked for my old pack’s medic? He knew a lot about everything, so I picked it up from him.” 

Chan nodded along. “Were you two close?”

“Not really,” he shrugged. 

“Oh… I just wondered, since you’ve learned so much from him, but you never really talk about him.”

“Umm…Well…” 

Jisung knew he needed to be more honest to gain Chan’s favor -both his hyungs had asked him to be more open about himself. But this was something he’d rather keep dead in the past. He took in a big breath, figuring how to explain himself as they passed by the famous oak tree Felix once got stuck up on. 

“He wasn’t a nice person. He was reclusive, temperamental and old. So, he never treated me like a friend, obviously, but he didn’t treat me like a pup either. He just needed someone to do tasks for him, so I did. Sometimes he needed help preparing stuff or making shit, whatever, so I’d help him out. And since he was so nitpicky about everything, it would turn into a lecture to make sure I wouldn’t fuck it up.” Chan slightly frowned as he listened. “Some days, on good days, he’d drone on and on about random shit he knew, and he’d answer any of my questions. He’d let me read his writings too, because he was arrogant and it boosted his ego to watch me struggle reading his stuff.”

Chan’s frown deepened, “He wasn’t like a mentor?”

“Nah. He was a jerk.” 

“What else would he do?” His leader’s tone was almost demanding. 

Chan’s scent turned smokey, angered and bothered by what he revealed. He had that concerned look he’d get whenever he learned of any mistreatment someone from the pack went through. He’d worry unnecessarily over things from their past, things he had no control over and no possible way to ameliorate. Which was the main reason Jisung never bothered talking much about the people he used to know.  

He didn’t need Chan or Minho or anyone else knowing about how he’d been mistreated by the same wolf he learned so much from. In retrospect, he was a naive pup seeking guidance from an arrogant man who took advantage of his loneliness to get work done -even if that meant manipulating and tricking him into causing trouble within the pack. Sometimes it felt like the medic didn’t want him around either, and would deliberately put Jisung in tough situations that further strained his ill relationship with his parental pack. Petty theft was the main one. He’d request Jisung to fetch specific herbs from the gardens he wasn’t supposed to take from; to procure elements and materials from their stock without permission from the pack leader. He would always convince Jisung they were allowed to do so, but, in the end, Jisung always got shit for it. 

One time, he got ratted out by the medic after the old man requested him to collect a chicken from a neighbor’s coop. He claimed it was to make a medicinal soup for an allegedly sick pack member, when in truth the medic just wanted to get him into trouble and win a meal out of it. That was the last straw for Jisung. When he realized the truth, he finally decided he’d had enough. By then, eight years had passed since his father left and three since his brother. His mother’s neglect led him to seek help from the medic in the first place, but he didn’t need another asshole adult ruining his life. He had no more reason to stay. 

And as much as he hated falling into that toxic trap, he couldn’t deny he was grateful for the jerk, because he did learn so much from the medic. Right before leaving, he made sure to ‘fetch’ and ‘procure’ as much of the medic’s stock, ointments, medicine, tools, even food, and take it all with him as he journeyed north into the unknown. 

However, trying to explain all this to Chan was not how he wanted their first date to end. 

“Let’s not do this, hyung.”

“Do what?” Chan stepped closer, his green eyes full of concern. 

“You’re making the face , hyung,” he grumbled. Chan touched his own cheek. “The ‘worrying about shit you can’t fix’ face.” Chan scowled at him. “The past is in the past. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“But he was an adult,” his leader argued anyway. “He should’ve guided you, mentored you-”

“He was a jerk. Adults can be jerks,” he interrupted, watching Chan clench his jaw shut. Jisung let out a tight breath and dared to step closer. “I left for a reason, hyung. I left because I believed there was someplace better to call home. And I found it.” He held Chan’s arm, meeting his gaze, “I found you.” 

Chan’s concern visibly melted off him, his smile turning so fond and caring. It was a look of pure adoration that he’d get whenever he was feeling love for his pack. The love gleaming from his eyes caused Jisung’s bond to stutter and pull on his heartstrings, but he had learned long before to not confuse that fraternal love with the one he yearned for -he stopped fooling himself years ago. 

“Come on. Let’s stop thinking about it,” he insisted, pulling his hyung along to continue their walk back to the cave.

“Jisung-” 

“Please, hyung. Let’s talk about something else.”

Chan audibly sighed and picked up his pace to walk beside him. Jisung kept his eyes forward, following the trail that led to their clearing. 

“What do you want to talk about?” Chan conceded.

“Uhh… We could talk about bugs again. That was fun,” he joked, mind racing to fill the silence. “Have you ever seen anyone make jewelry out of jewel beetles? I think it’s doable.”

“Umm… Actually, I had a nuna who would grind dried up jewel bugs into powder and use the dust as eyeshadow.” 

Jisung looked at his hyung in utter shock, completely blind-sided by his comment. 

“What? You called them a pest before,” Chan said defensively, face flushed. 

“That's actually so cool,” Jisung admitted with a bated breath. “What the fuck? Why didn't I ever think of that?”

“Oh yeah?” Chan said amused, “Would you wear it?”

The thought of having bug powder stuck to his eyelids was a bit gross, but if it conserved its iridescent shine, then Jisung believed Chan would look stunning with it. 

Actually-

“I'd make you wear it to match your gorgeous eyes.” 

Chan’s eyes widened, impossibly round. His face reddened and he smiled abashedly behind his flower-holding hand. It might’ve been daring for Jisung to say it that way, but damn, he finally figured it out. Chan got incredibly flustered from complimenting him, especially about his looks. 

Yeah, he could work with that. 

“Uhh, I…” His hyung looked away, clearing his throat to compose himself. “I think I'd prefer kohl.” 

“Oh, wouldn't that be a great combination?” he grinned, mind running wild with the possibilities. “Iridescent powder over a dark kohl base. You'd look absolutely amazing with that.” 

“Oh my Moon, shut up,” his leader said all embarrassed and pushed him off the path that opened towards the clearing. 

Jisung laughed at how flustered his leader got and jogged to catch up with him.

“Hyung, wait.” He stopped him right before stepping into the clearing. “What’s your favorite flower?”

Chan gave out a surprised chuckle and leaned back against a pine tree. His face was still flushed as he playfully eyed him down. He tapped his chin with the coral peony, humming in thought. “Try guessing next time.”

“Can you at least give me a hint?”

Chan smiled wide enough for his dimples to show, “I already did.” 

For the Moon, he was so damn gorgeous. His smile had Jisung’s heart in a chokehold. 

The pleasant silence was disturbed by loud voices and the snap of a stick. Jisung felt his heart stop when he caught the group walking their way. Hyunjin, Seungmin, Jongho, San and Yunho were coming from the north-east, directly behind Chan, carrying an assortment of feathers, flat stones and long blades of grass they had foraged. Yunho spotted them first, stopping his tracks and causing the rest to look their way. Jisung felt a dreadful nervousness from being perceived and instinctively stepped back, distancing himself from Chan. Jisung was too far into his mind to pay attention to anything else other than the surprised look on Jongho’s face, curious yet critical in a way that brought Jisung’s hackles up. 

In a strange way, everything shifted. It felt as if the world spun faster and the air became denser, making each breath a struggle. Jisung had felt this way before, felt it most when he lived with his old pack. The unsettling disposition sporadically recurred throughout his life to different degrees; some he managed to predict their onset, while most barged into him without any warning. He hadn’t felt this anxious since the whole sync-with-Minho debacle. 

It took a confused moment for his leader to turn around and see the paralyzed group. Seungmin reacted the quickest, clutching Hyunjin’s hand and dragging his mate out of there. Yunho swung his long arms over Jongho and San’s shoulders and pulled them along with him. The sable-haired alpha winked at them before leaving. 

“Sungie, are you okay?” Chan asked concerned, his voice and demeanor defaulting back into his leader role. Jisung nodded, unable to find his voice. “Have any of them said something to you or bothered you in any way?”

Jisung shook his head, no. Because it was the truth. 

He knew disclosing his intentions to court Chan would change everything, yet a small, whimsical part of himself hoped it would lighten the wary weight in his chest. Instead, it had his hackles constantly raised. It had been a week since then, and none of his pack or his friends ever said anything opposing or offending enough to warrant such apprehension. And yet Jisung couldn’t help feeling as though he was regarded differently. All it took was a lingering glance, a studious stare, a whisper, and suddenly Jisung was back in his old pack -ostracized by the color of his fur. Perceived differently.

In theory, it was such a silly thing to worry over. But perception was tricky, finicky, and it greatly afflicted his sense of self. Chan believed he had been severely bullied and maybe he was scarred with complex forms of trauma, and perhaps acknowledging this was the first therapeutic step forward to getting better, as Minho often preached. But Jisung, as prone as his mind was to overthinking, wasn’t one to analyze the sore parts of his past. The past should remain in the past when the remembrance brought nothing but pain. 

Jisung knew the truth was much simpler than what he reasoned it to be. The packs were curious about him and the leaders, especially over his courting towards Chan. That was all. They were glad and excited for them, the type of giddiness that spurred the urge to ask and observe, to share and tell. But Jisung, unsure and awkward, didn’t have a clue of how to share this side of himself when he was still discovering and learning about it. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Yeah, hyung. I’m alright, they just surprised me.” He put on the most reassuring smile he could manage and lightly nudged Chan’s shoulder. “Come on, we’ve got work to do. The rice cakes won’t make themselves.” 

Jisung was the first to settle at the workstation. He occupied himself with sticking sheets of birch and mulberry paper together with pine pitch glue, in order to create the right thickness for ddakji tiles. He wore leather gloves since pitch glue was a tricky substance to work with and he did not want to end up with adhesive residue on his skin. He would then have to trim the glued sheets into the right square size, and save the rest to use as fire kindle. 

They could’ve gone the traditional glueless way by folding hanji paper, made from paper mulberry and aibika mucilage. But paper pressing was such a painstakingly long process that their reserve of hanji paper was solely used for documenting important information, like medicinal treatments, crop schedules and harvesting charts, and cartography of their natural resources and neighboring packs. Not for silly flipping-tile games. 

Soon came Jongho, carrying the different materials they foraged to craft the jegi, adding leather, cloth, cotton, and strings to the basket. 

“Hi, hyung,” Jongho greeted him. Jisung hummed, focused on spreading a thin layer of dark glue with a wooden spatula. “Umm… We didn’t interrupt something back then, did we?”

“Huh?”

“Back then with Chan hyung. We weren’t eavesdropping or anything. We really didn’t see you in the woods until we walked by.” Jisung glanced at the younger alpha, who seemed genuinely concerned. “I’m sorry if we did, uh, interrupt something.”

“It’s fine. You didn’t,” he quickly shot down. 

“Oh, good.” The younger wolf seemed to breathe out in relief. Jongho vacillated a bit, indecisive about staying or leaving. “Umm… Did it go well?”

“What?” Jisung mumbled distractedly. 

“Did, uh, you and Chan hyung.” Jongho looked incredibly flustered for someone so curious and supportive. “Did it go well?” 

He had to be asking about the date. Of course he was asking about the date, everyone saw him walk out alone with Chan into the woods. He would bet his left kidney that someone else dared him to ask, because, really, out of all of them Jongho was the least likely to stick his nose into another wolf’s business. 

For fuck’s sake…

Jisung huffed out, straightening his posture and carefully placing the spatula in the glue jar. “Jongho, dude, I’m sorry but I really need to focus right now. This shit is highly flammable and I don’t want to drop any glue on the counter or something.” 

“Oh, yeah, right hyung.” Jongho slightly shrunk into himself to appear non-threatening. 

“Why don’t you take that to the stumps so you guys can make the jegi there and we don’t end up accidentally burning shit up.”

“Yeah, okay.” Jongho picked up the basket and left for the tree stumps near the lit furnace. 

Jisung felt bad for turning him down like that, especially since Jongho had been so nice to him and never kicked him out from sharing beds -unlike Jeongin, the brat. But he really wanted to be left alone. However his peace was ephemeral, for the others joined them soon after. Seungmin and San sat down by Jongho to craft jegi. Hongjoong came too, claiming he was there to supervise and test out the weight of the shuttlecocks -when really, the leader brought food to munch on and lounged on the shaded grass. 

Hyunjin, on the other hand, went to stand by him at the kitchenette as he slid on his leather gloves. Jisung immediately got defensive, remembering the tail end of their previous conversation.

“I don’t wanna talk, hyung,” he mumbled, pressing a mulberry sheet on top of the glued birch.  

Hyunjin raised a singular eyebrow, picking out a birch sheet from the stack. “Who said anything about talking?” he grumbled. Hyunjin picked up a spare wooden spatula and carefully transferred a small daub of glue. “I’m here to make ddakji.”

And work in silence they did. Jisung felt self-conscious at first, mostly for getting all defensive and appearing like a jerk. But Hyunjin’s calm lavender and feldspar scent alleviated his stress, helping him feel relaxed and at ease. The shared quietude became comfortable enough for his mind to not wander off into worrisome thoughts and solely focus on the task at hand. He didn’t even notice when he started humming a silly tune until Hyunjin joined him, following along with iterations until they flowed into the same melody. 

And when Hyunjin left to check on the finished stoneware, Jisung commenced his true mission: inconspicuously rigging a ddakji tile for Minho. 

Close to noon on the following day, Jisung went to the leaders’ room. Minho was clearing out the melted wax from the nooks and niches where they placed the candles on the cavern walls, and collected the wax in a jar to reuse. At the corner by Chan's side of the bed, stood a vase with the coral peony inside.

“Hi, hyungie,” he greeted as he walked up to him, hands behind his back. Minho hummed in reply. “Spring cleaning?”

Minho nodded. “We're going to need to make new batches sometime next month. We still have some but we shouldn't run low on candles.”

“Okay, I'll put it on my to do list.” He puckered his lips when Minho glanced at him, but his boyfriend was still busy collecting the wax. “Hyungie.”

Minho turned to face him, “What?”

“Aren't you going to greet me with a kiss?” Jisung puckered his lips again.

Minho huffed air out through his nose as a grin split through his lips. He picked a dab of hardened wax and pressed it against Jisung’s forehead hard enough for the flat circle to stick onto his skin. 

“Ah! Hyung, why-”

Minho kissed him. Jisung hurried to keep him from fleeing and wrapped an arm around his hyung's waist, pressing his mouth firmly, warmly, satisfying all of the nerve endings of his lips. For the Moon, kissing Minho felt so damn good. 

He smiled as they separated. Minho looked so soft, so pleased, his dark eyes filled with warmth.

“Hi beautiful.” 

Minho looked absolutely disgusted and pushed him away. 

“Ah, hyung. Why?” 

“You’re being gross,” Minho mumbled -even though his bright red ears contradicted him. He sat down on the edge of the bed. 

“How is that being gross?” Jisung complained as he followed. “I just think you’re so breathtaking sometimes. Is that a crime?” Minho side-eyed him, brows turning into an annoyed frown. “Here.” Jisung offered the deep pink camellia flower. “A flower for another flower.”

Minho seemed surprised, silent as he took the multi-petaled flower. Instead of bringing it close to his nose to smell the flowery scent like Chan did, his boyfriend felt a petal, rubbing it between his fingers. It was almost like he was contemplating the texture and thickness of it. As if he was considering to-

“You’re not going to eat it, are you?”

Minho froze. 

Oh shit. 

Before Jisung could even try to apologize, he found himself pushed flat on his back. He fruitlessly tried to fight his hyung off, but Minho sat on his chest, knocking the breath out of him and trapping his arms with his shins. Jisung barely managed a weak scream and then he was force-fed the flower. He tried to shake his head, but the pungent and bitter taste of the camellia already assaulted his taste buds. Minho snickered demonically, clamping his hand over his mouth until Jisung was forced to chew and swallow. But Jisung didn’t want to. He pleaded with his eyes until his hyung relented. 

He crawled to the empty wash bowl and spat the munched up petals. “That’s foul, hyung,” he complained, sticking his tongue out. “It tastes so foul. Why would you ever eat that?”

“I can’t believe Chan told you,” Minho huffed out annoyedly. He searched for a water flask, keeping it out of Jisung’s reach. 

“Hyung, please.” The omega glared at him. “I wasn't supposed to tell you I know, but I couldn’t help it. I haven’t stopped thinking about it.” Minho scoffed. “It’s a cute story, hyung. I wish I knew about it before.”

Minho sighed, exhaling loudly through his nose. “You don’t tell anyone.”

“Not a soul,” he promised and was handed the water to rinse out the taste. An oval obsidian mirror leaned against the wall behind the wash bowl -his lips were stained vibrant pink. He touched it, smudging the pigment onto his finger. Interesting. 

The omega dipped the flowerless stem into the vase with the peony, the few surviving leaves colored the stick. They made such a contrasting pair.

“Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” Minho asked as he flopped back onto the bed. 

“Eat the flowers hyung gave you.” He lied next to him, propping his head on his hand to peer down at the omega. 

Minho shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “I didn’t know how to react.”

“React to flowers?”

“To be given attention.” Minho glanced up at him with those big beautiful eyes. “I didn’t know what to do, so I…”

“So you ate the flower hyung gave you,” Jisung said, sounding as in disbelief as the first time.

“I thought he’d stop after that,” Minho muttered, looking up to the ceiling. “That it might’ve been weird enough to drive him away. But then it became like a running joke, until, well, it stopped.”

“Until the big fluffy peony.”

Minho groaned, covering his face. “That was so stupid. Why the hell did he tell you?”

Jisung chuckled and lightly held onto the omega’s elbow to feel closer to him. “I was curious. Besides, I find it interesting.” 

“Interesting?”

“Yeah. I wonder why Chan hyung thought he could win you over with such a traditional gift.”

Minho let his arms drop to his sides, uncovering his slight frown. “We didn’t know each other as well, back then.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he agreed with a small smile. He pointed at the dried-pressed flower frame hung on the wall, “Either way, in the end, you guys managed to turn it into your own thing.”

“Should’ve known you were going to be a sap about it.”

“Hey.” He laid his palm over Minho’s chest, giving him the sappiest smile “I think your flower-munching skit was unexpectedly adorable.”

His boyfriend narrowed his dark eyes at him. “Shut up,” he mumbled softly as he turned to gaze at the back wall. 

Jisung beamed amusedly, watching his ear become progressively redder. He fiddled with the drawstring of Minho's shirt collar as he thought on how to approach his following question.

“Hyungie, is Channie hyung's favorite flower in the frame?” He slightly shook his head, no. “Do you know what his favorite flower is?”

Minho turned, gently frowning. “He likes them all.”

“But he has to have a favorite favorite. Right?” Minho looked at him funny, but nodded anyway. “Then why didn’t you put it in the frame?”

His boyfriend stared at him in that pensive way he did, slightly squinting his unblinking eyes until they began to shine. Then he’d blink a couple of times and squint some more, as if he was searching for the words to express himself. 

“It’s not about giving hyung his favorite. It’s about what I want him to have,” he said, his voice firmer with conviction. “Gifts should be about giving something you want them to have.”

“Oh…” Jisung considered it for a moment. 

Normally he thought of gifts that he knew someone would want or need, because he worried too much about his presents being well received. The last thing he wanted was to give someone something they didn’t like. 

He never considered giving someone something he wanted them to keep.

“Oh.” His belly swooped as he came to realize something. Minho didn’t give him his hoodie just because he wanted to stake his claim.

“What?” Minho blinked up at him. 

Jisung felt a sudden flare of cockiness, gazing right back at those beautiful dark eyes. “You wanted me in your clothes. Wanted me to have your scent.”

The air between them felt thicker, riveting. His hyung’s eyes turned a shade darker. Jisung’s heart hammered at what he wanted to say, a form of confession he hadn’t used yet.

“Wanted to mark what is yours.”

Minho smirked, not teasingly, not too smugly. No, this was a grin that looked far too good on him. He reached up to drag his finger across Jisung’s lower lip, where he was sure the skin was still stained pink. 

Minho leaned up, invitingly so, and whispered, “Why don’t you give me what’s mine then?”

Jisung kissed him, capturing his mouth fully. He could still feel his boyfriend’s grin pressed against his lips. Oh, he knew; Minho knew he was desperate for kisses, starved for them, searched for them every chance he could get. But he didn't bother to complain about it, not when kissing Minho felt so damn good -smirk and all. 

“You taste bad,” his boyfriend teased, speaking against his mouth. 

“You too.” He pressed their mouths back together, slipping his tongue to lick from his cute front teeth up to the pointy tip of his upper pout. “Terrible.” 

Minho pulled him down with him, kissing him firmly, deeply, the kind that left his mind all fuzzy. His hyung relaxed under his soft growling, letting him kiss him however he pleased -his smooth lips warm and malleable against his own. His one-track mind solely focused on his hyung beneath him; soft bed, soft Minho, rich scent, warm skin. He moved down to the hinge of his jaw, nipping and teasing the skin there, while feeling Minho dig his fingers across his back. 

Minho’s scent turned stronger and he chased after it like a starved wolf, kissing down the column of his neck until he reached his scent gland. He rested his open mouth on his gland, inhaling deeply, feeling his scent glaze the roof of his mouth and wrap around the edges of his mind. He felt his deep-seated instincts come alive, sprouting from the heat in his gut and spreading like wildfire up his chest. His alpha was creeping in to take control, enticed by the sweet scent of Minho’s omega. The temptation to bite was so gripping, he could feel the urge extend to the tip of his teeth, a slight tingle that could only be abated by pressing them into Minho’s skin. 

A low growl rippled through his throat.

“Sungie,” his hyung warned, his hand locked firmly onto Jisung’s nape. 

Jisung had prided himself with self-control over certain urges; years of keeping his unrequited longings tamped down certified it. However, being so close to the sweetest temptation of all challenged his resolve like never before. And yet… And yet the echo of Chan’s warning helped him rein in his instincts and settle his mind.

He pressed the lightest of kisses above Minho’s sensitive gland, feeling him swallow roughly. He turned his focus to Minho’s Adam’s apple, blowing a raspberry against his neck. His boyfriend laughed at the ticklish feeling, he could hear his voice reverberate from within his chest before escaping his mouth in a loud staccato. Minho threaded his fingers into his hair, pulling him up to recapture his mouth into a smiley kiss. 

Jisung looked down at him, briefly seeing double from how close they were. His eyes were gleaming, cheeks rosy, and there was a small smudge of pink near his bottom lip from where Jisung had kissed him. He looked so soft, so relaxed, as comfortable as Jisung always felt when he was with him. Knowing his love for Minho was reciprocal brought a sense of tranquility that was lacking in Jisung’s life. Now he had someone who gave him all the love that he wanted, all the love that he needed. And Jisung could give back as much love and affection as he received. 

It was wonderfully staggering how much love he felt from being with Minho, making his cursed bond play a sweet melody with his heartstrings.

He brushed his thumb at the bottom of his hyung’s mouth, trying to clean him up. “I love you,” he breathed out with so much ease. 

Minho smiled adoringly, as if he was physically melting from the inside out with affection. 

“I love you so much.” 

“Kiss me.” 

Of course he did. 

As much as Jisung wanted to stay inside to lazily cuddle and kiss Minho to his heart’s content, time waited for no one and the pack had a lot of work left to do. When the hunting squad returned, they left the room, still enraptured in their own little bubble, hand in hand as they protracted their time together. However, the hall wasn’t empty. Felix, Wooyoung and Mingi were loitering by the middle of the main hall’s bifurcation. At the sight of them, MInho pulled his hand away as if his skin was suddenly burnt. 

Jisung knew he shouldn’t take it personally, he understood that Minho had his reservations about displaying affection in front of others. But it happened so suddenly, so fast, that it gave his heart whiplash. It stung.

He tuned out whatever excuse Minho had as his hyung hurried to exit the cave. He was aware that Minho needed to prepare and cook an inordinate amount of food for the packs, he even was supposed to help him with it. But his quick retreat left him stunned in place. 

“Hey, Jisungie,” Wooyoung called out with a saccharine voice. “You got a lil’ something there,” he indicated towards his mouth.

Jisung quickly covered his lips and rushed to the washroom. In his reflection in the obsidian mirror, he saw a smudge of dark pink still clinging to the corner of his mouth.

Who knew flower petals could stain so much? 

-///-

On the morning of the Vernal Equinox, they were awoken by Jisung. His young alpha came into their room an hour before the pack’s agreed breakfast time. He was already dressed for the day, freshly shaven and hair slightly damp from washing up. He wore his hanbok, wide baji pants and jeogori top untied, flowing off him like a curtain. It endeared him how much effort Jisung put into waking up early, sacrificing his much needed sleep to spend time with them before the busy day. 

Chan noticed how Jisung’s shy gaze lingered on his exposed skin. He had noticed him doing so before, but Chan always thought it stemmed from curiosity over his tattoos. Now he knew differently and it stirred something inside. He slipped on a shirt and remained in bed, while Minho excused himself to the bathroom to wash up first. 

Jisung sat in the middle of the bed, laying a basket beside him. He placed down a wicker tray and took out cups. He served freshly brewed tea, adding a teaspoon of honey for Chan’s. He placed a bowl full of diced fruits and nuts to share. 

“Thank you, Sungie,” he said as he placed his steaming tea to the side. He munched on a cube of pear and a walnut.

“I have something more for you,” Jisung said in a small mumble. 

He picked out a beautiful, closed-bloom red rose from his basket, and handed it with round, hopeful eyes. Chan held onto the thornless stem. Jisung had carefully cut them out to avoid pricking his hands. However, he left the thorns closest to the red bud. Chan brought it closer to his face to inhale the flowery aroma. He loved the scent of roses, it reminded him of his mum. 

“It’s your favorite, right?” Jisung softly asked.

“Yeah.” Chan smiled, admiring the rich-red petals. “It’s my mum’s scent.”

“Rose? Really?” 

He replied with a nod. “Rose mixed with sandalwood.”

“That’s a beautiful scent, hyung.” 

“Yeah, it is.” He turned the rose around. “You left some thorns?” he observed, but it sounded more like a question. 

Jisung shrugged his shoulders with an amused grin. “Gotta protect it from Minho hyung.”

Chan laughed out loudly, surprised at first and then out of pure joy. He felt incredibly warm at how thoughtful Jisung was. It made Chan appreciate his gift even more, for Jisung not only listened to his story but actively took the time to understand Minho and his relationship. As simple as the gesture was, this rose was perfect in Chan’s eyes. Thornless in the way Chan wished no harm on his mate, and yet thornful in the way Minho challenged being treated delicately. A perfect balance of care and danger, of beauty and defiance. 

It was perfect and it meant the Moon for Chan. 

“I love it. Thank you,” he said wholeheartedly. 

“I’m glad.” Jisung chucked a pear-cube into his mouth, his cheeks dusted pink. “It’s, uh, it’s good that spring starts today then.”

“Why?”

“Because flowers will abound. And now I know that I just have to give you one to see your gorgeous smile.”

Chan’s stomach swooped with embarrassment, unaware of how to react. Jisung spoke so earnestly, so smoothly, that Chan never expected it. He felt heat spread to his face, flustered from the sudden compliment. 

“Was that too much?” Jisung asked.

“I, uh. No, It’s okay,” Chan spluttered. He shook his head, trying to reclaim his bearings. “Who taught you to be such a smooth talker?”

Jisung shrugged, plopping a strawberry piece into his smirking mouth. Chan could only laugh at himself. He knew Jisung was flirtatious with Minho, he should’ve suspected his young alpha would act the same with him. But it still caught him by surprise. 

“You got me in trouble with Minho, by the way.” Jisung looked confused, so Chan pointed at the vase where the coral peony and the flowerless stem were. However, now there was an additional stem, one that suspiciously looked like a replica of the first. 

“Oh, shit. Seriously?” Jisung asked amused. “He did the same to you?”

Chan nodded with a deep sigh. “It’s what I get for being a blabbermouth.”

“Sorry, hyung. I honestly didn’t think he’d do anything to you since he’d already punished me.” 

“It’s fine. I should’ve known he’d find out anyway.” 

“He really is a menace, isn’t he?” Jisung grinned. 

“What are you two saying about me now? Huh?” Minho said loudly with a playful glare as he walked into the room. 

He startled with a laugh, while his young alpha dropped the strawberry he was holding. 

Minho had freshened up and was dressed in his festive hanbok. He didn’t wear his long overcoat, only his jeogori, cinched to the side with a bow. It perfectly molded his chest, making his shoulders look wider. He looked good, bulkier from his routine. His mate brushed his hand through Jisung’s hair as he passed by to sit in his usual spot. 

Chan picked up the rose. “Look.”

Minho adorably scrunched his eyebrows, tilting his head closer. His pouty lips twisted into an amused grin before he laughed loudly, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. For the Moon, Chan loved his crazy laugh. 

Minho furiously ruffled Jisung’s hair. Jisung tried to swat his hand away, but he was left disheveled anyway.

“Where’s mine?” Minho asked.

Jisung smirked, left cheek puffed with stored fruit. He turned to take out a covered bowl from the basket. He set it on the tray, right in front of Minho, and uncovered it. It took a hot minute for Chan to understand what he was seeing. 

The bowl was filled with an assortment of edible flowers -mostly the colorful petals without the bitter parts such as the stamen. 

“I added some seeds and drizzled some honey to give it more texture and flavor,” Jisung said. 

“Oh my Moon!” Chan gasped, covering his mouth to keep his cackling at bay.

Minho, who was silent in shock, smiled. But Chan recognized that smile, it was one that held the devil inside. When his mate’s left eye twitched, Chan knew Jisung was a goner. 

“Run, Sungie! Run!” Chan urged between his laughter and tried to catch his mate’s arm. 

But Minho was faster and pounced on Jisung, who barely managed to scramble to the edge of the bed. Chan prioritized the teacups, preventing them from spilling instead of helping his poor young alpha. Minho was on him, wrestling against Jisung’s hands. Their long sleeves rustled together as Minho tickled his sides. Jisung was all screams and laughter as he tried to fend Minho off. 

Chan could feel him through their thriving bond; Minho’s sheer happiness.

“You think you’re so funny, don’t’ya?” Minho growled, assaulting the younger’s sensitive sides.

“I’m-ah! I’m freaking hi-hilarious!” Jisung yelled between his laughs.

“Your face is hilarious.”

“You like my face.”

“Maybe I don’t anymore.”

“Ha! You’re lying,” Jisung argued with a smirk, leaning up to get into Minho’s face. 

For a split moment, Minho leaned down to meet him halfway, like two magnets undoubtedly drawn to each other. It caught Chan by surprise, so much so that he panicked at the sight, feeling his heart clench tight. 

Minho felt it. Of course he did. His mate froze, eyes breaking into something terrified. His frightened gaze met his own and Chan realized his mistake. He didn’t want to pollute their love with his fears. No, no. He was supposed to support them, to help them nurture and grow their love. They’d been holding their relationship back, keeping it apart from the prying eyes of the others. He couldn’t be another reason for them to continue hiding. 

Chan let out a shattered breath and forced himself to smile. He nodded and gently pulled on their bond to let Minho know it was okay. That he didn’t need to fear. That he was safe to love and show it in front of him. 

“Hyungie, please get off,” Jisung whispered embarrassedly, as he nudged Minho’s hip. His young alpha looked mortified, face red beyond belief and gaze down.

But Minho sat fully on his lap instead. He held onto the sides of Jisung’s face to tilt him upwards. “Sungie, look at me. Please,” his mate softly coaxed. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Jisung swallowed nervously and slowly raised his gaze. Minho gave him the softest of smiles, so gentle, so loving. 

“Hyung got a little surprised, that’s all. You didn’t do anything wrong, okay?”

Jisung gripped onto his wrists and tersely nodded. Minho kept holding onto him, his gleaming eyes intense as a quiet conversation happened between them. Then Minho brushed his mouth against Jisung’s forehead, nuzzling their faces together without kissing him. The gesture was so pure in its intimacy, that Chan felt his alpha flip inside. He wanted to growl, to take control over the situation and keep his mate away.

But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. 

Jisung turned to face him first, unconfident yet trying so hard to not appear so. Minho followed shortly and called him through their bond to make sure he was alright. 

The way they looked at him had his heart struggling with ambivalent feelings. They were waiting for him as if they were silently asking for his consent, his permission, before they dared to follow through. It was disconcerting. He couldn’t fathom having so much control over their decisions. And yet… And yet he felt deeply grateful for how considerate they were being with his level of comfort. Their patience with him, their understanding, mattered greatly to him that he didn’t want it to go unappreciated.

But Chan didn’t dare to speak either. He feared he might accidentally let out a menacing growl if he did. Instead, he tamped down his conflicting emotions, feeling his chest burn from them. He damn well knew he wasn’t remotely ready for this, but he couldn’t keep them waiting forever. So, he smiled as best as he could and gave a gentle nod.

His mate pulled Jisung in and kissed him.

Chan couldn’t breathe. 

Chapter Text

The moment felt surreal, as if he was having an out of body experience. Chan was well aware they'd kissed before -had spent days trying to picture it in his mind even. But the shift from knowing to seeing was unfathomable. 

He got to witness what his mate looked like kissing; the angle of his brows, long lashes lining his closed eyes, his sharp nose, the lines of his jaw, and his pretty pouty lips. That’s how mesmerizing his mate looked whenever he kissed and his beauty still took his breath away. It stirred something inside to picture himself at the receiving end of Minho’s love. 

The kiss they shared was simple and pure. Minho lingered into it long enough for his emotions to pour, making Chan feel an echo of warmth through their bond. 

Soon they parted, faces a breadth away from connecting their lips again. Chan’s lungs opened with effort at the same time Minho breathed, heaving in hard as if he also had forgotten to breathe. It was as if the air in their room was too heavy to take in. He felt shaken from the nervousness he felt from Minho, each breath rattling his ribs. 

Jisung rested his forehead on Minho’s shoulder, hiding away from Chan. Minho carded his fingers through the locks of the back of his head, keeping him close as he finally faced Chan. His expression was hard to read, a mix of emotions that had Chan’s mind swirling. He looked like he was asking for Chan’s approval, like a lost pup seeking guidance. But he also looked worried and needed to know how Chan felt through a tug to their bond. 

Chan wasn't sure what he was feeling. It wasn't good, neither bad. It was as if his world had been flipped around and he was left scrambling to make sense of it. 

It felt different, new. But at the same time familiar. It was still Minho, Jisung and him. 

Jisung... He still wanted to scruff the younger alpha, to put him in his place and remind him that Chan came first. That Minho was his and Jisung could never have him the way he did. It was taking everything in him to not jump Jisung and force him to submit. His hands hurt from gripping the bedding, keeping himself put.

“Chan?” Minho called out for him.

But he wasn’t sure what to say. He felt off kilter, body tensed and mind buzzing, unable to process everything he was feeling.

“I-” 

A growl rippled through his burning chest without his permission. He coughed to steady his voice and tamped down his inner alpha’s frustration with himself. But the sound he emitted was enough for them both to be high on alert. It caused Minho’s shoulders to jolt in shock. While Jisung ducked his head down and away from his mate. 

Minho’s eyes glimmered with worry, “Chan?” He moved towards him.

“I’m okay. I’m fine. I just-” He swallowed in a breath, “I need a moment.”

Jisung made an abortive sound and tried to get away. But Minho caught his arm. 

“Stay.” 

“But-”

“Stay,” Minho insisted, voice rough and urgent. 

His mate looked torn, half-way from reaching him while gripping Jisung tightly to stop him from fleeing -desperately trying to keep them all together. 

“Chan?” His mate’s voice came out like a plea.

He pushed the tray out of the way and met him half-way. He grasped his open hand to hold against his face. The touch immediately quelled his alpha’s anger. But he needed more. He nuzzled their faces together, feeling the warmth and softness of his mate’s skin. His inner alpha rumbled with delight as he scented Minho. He was rough with it, thorough, imbuing every stretch of his mate’s skin with his scent. Minho let him do as he pleased. Pliant, letting Chan hold his face and neck to be moved however he wanted as he rubbed his scent gland all over him. 

He paused as his nose neared Minho’s face. He could smell Jisung on his lips. Thoughtless and driven purely by animalistic instinct, he licked his mate’s mouth. Minho parted his lips with a surprised breath and Chan kissed him. Deeply. An all-consuming kiss, stealing the air from his lungs, licking inside to leave a trace of himself in his mate. He cared little about how loud his chest rumbled as he licked across Minho’s teeth.  

Minho gripped his collar with a sound of protest, asking him to slow down. Chan knew he was being desperate and unlike himself. He knew he was overwhelming his mate by acting this way, so he forced himself to calm down. He kept kissing him, unwilling to separate from Minho’s sweet, sweet mouth. His need and eagerness attenuated with each kiss, until he felt satisfied enough to part. 

He kept his mate’s face cradled in his hands. Minho’s cheeks were flushed, ears bright red, lips swollen and his chestnut eyes were scent-drunk hazy. He looked so delectable. Soft and pliant, willing to give him as much as he desired. 

For the Moon, Chan wanted to take a bite.

Jisung audibly gulping broke him from his trance. He was right there with his arm still caught in Minho’s firm grip. He was doing a poor job at shielding his sight with his hand, wide-shocked eyes peeking through his fingers. His face was flushed too, red creeping down to his neck. And his scent, if Chan focused out of the overindulgent scenting between Minho and himself, he could discern a slight musk from his young alpha. A peek of sexual interest over his nervous sweat. 

Oh…  

His gut felt funny as he realized that, unlike his inner alpha that still struggled with sharing his mate, Jisung’s actually enjoyed watching them together. Jisung belatedly realized what he smelled of and slapped his free hand onto his gland, averting his gaze in mortification. 

Minho let out a soft whine –more like a breath. Chan pulled him in, petting his hair and letting his mate seek his scent gland. He needed the affection and reassurance after the heavy scenting he submitted him to. Minho nipped his neck. Initially as retaliation for making him feel embarrassed. But then he kept his teeth pressed onto the thickness of his muscles, clinging to him like a needy bat. 

The pleasant pressure of his teeth was grounding, placating the oppressive needs of his inner alpha to the point he didn’t react anymore to Minho keeping Jisung close. He didn’t mind, he understood his mate’s message. Minho wanted Jisung, he wanted him and he wanted Chan to accept him. 

He knew. He agreed long ago and yet his instincts didn’t align with him. Something was missing.

Minho let out a soft, protesting growl into his neck when Jisung tried to pry his hand away. His young alpha had that expression he’d make when he wanted to seclude himself in his room, a cross between embarrassment and distress.

“Hyungie, please let go.”

“Sungie, let him. He’s scent drunk. He’s not going to take it well if you leave him.” 

“Well I feel like I shouldn’t be here,” he snapped, still avoiding his gaze.

“Stay, it’s okay. I’m not upset.” Jisung scoffed as he shook his head. “I’m not. I’m just-”

Possessive. He was possessive over Minho. They all knew that. It was what he most struggled with changing. He thought he got better at it, at giving Minho more space and liberty to do as he wished. But…apparently, he was wrong. 

Jisung glared at him, but instead of anger he showed disappointment in his watery eyes. “Tell me to back off and I will.”

“No,” Minho slurred, detaching from his neck. He tried pulling Jisung closer.

“Hyung, stop.” Minho grumbled as he did, but he still refused to let go. “He’s not comfortable with me.”

“I’m not upset, Jisung,” Chan insisted, making himself sound more assertive while helping his mate sit up. “I’m… I’m processing. Okay? I just need time to process. Everything.”

“Sungie, please,” Minho mumbled, lightly tugging his arm. 

Jisung hesitated. 

Chan followed along, gently gripping the sleeve of Jisung’s jeogori. “It’s okay. Come here.”

For a moment it seemed like Jisung was going to keep pushing them away. But then his young alpha let out a tired breath, the fight leaving his system as he shuffled closer. Chan bit his tongue, hands safe on Minho’s waist instead of scratching Jisung’s neck. 

He could do this. He could keep himself in check.

Minho finally let Jisung go, only to caress his cheek to make sure he was alright. They held hands, and Minho gripped Chan’s at his middle, leaving him arms-crossed as he was linked between them. 

“Channie,” he called out softly, leaning back to look at each other. Some haziness lingered in his chestnut eyes. “Talk to me. What are you feeling?”

Chan took in a big breath to steady himself, eyes flickering between his mate and his young alpha. The answer was so simple, so obvious, that he felt embarrassed to voice it. 

“I… Uh…”

They all startled terribly at a sudden loud shriek. Happy Spring Day! they heard someone -Wooyoung- shout, too loud this early in the morning. Then  followed Changbin, hollering for him to shut up.

Chan laughed elated after the shock wore off. The tension in the room now broken. They heard more screaming and laughter from the others running around the cave.

“Fuck, I nearly had a heart attack,” Jisung exclaimed, clutching his chest.

“I’m so fucking done with them,” Minho grumbled, leaning his head back on Chan’s shoulder. “Can we kick them out?” 

“No,” Chan chuckled, quickly pecking his temple. He hugged him, looking at Jisung over his shoulder. 

His young alpha still looked conflicted, shoulders drooping. “Hyung… I, I’m sorry-”

“No,” he cut in. “Don’t apologize. I’m not upset.”

“We have to-”  Minho startled in his arms as they heard a sudden shout, “talk about this.”

“Yeah. We do.” 

Loud voices rushed closer to their room.

“Shouldn't we wait?” They heard Jongho ask, sounding uncertain.

“I don't think so,” Hyunjin said. “You go in.”

“No. You,” Jeongin  argued.

“They won’t mind if it’s you.” 

“I don’t wanna-”

“Move it,” Felix grumbled. “Channie hyung! Are you awake?” Felix called out from behind their closed drapes.

“Yes.”

“Can we come in?” 

“No,” Minho answered. 

“Hyung, we can’t find Jisung,” Hyunjin worriedly informed. 

“Fucking hell,” Jisung whispered, covering his forehead. “I’m in here,” he loudly announced.

They didn’t reply for a moment. 

“Since when do you wake up so fucking early?”

“Oh my Moon, shut up!” Jisung hollered back, embarrassed. 

“Did you find him?” They heard Changbin approach.

“Yeah. He’s in here,” Jeongin replied.

Changbin poked his head inside. He smirked once he caught sight of them. “Fancy seeing you here, Jisung-ah.”

Jisung growled back.

His second alpha scrunched his nose, “Ugh, hyung, seriously?”

Chan hid his face behind Minho’s head, feeling self-conscious for stinking up their room. 

“Get out,” Minho snapped defensively.

“Okay, okay. Chan hyung, meet me at the storage room to get this party going,” Changbin reminded him. 

“Give me a minute.”

“Sure.” 

Changbin left them, shepherding the rest of the curious wolves away. 

His responsibilities as the leader dawned on him. Today was a day of celebration and his pack was already excited for the events to follow. They needed him. They needed both Minho and him to act their roles and provide.

He exhaled through his nose, wrapping his arms around his mate’s middle. “It’s time to go.” Minho nodded, sagging against him. 

Jisung frowned, letting shoulders drop. 

“Jisung… We have a job to do.” 

“They can make their own soup,” he mumbled.

“It’s not just about the soup. It’s about the harmony of the pack.”

“We have to be there,” Minho added, gently pulling their bond in alliance. 

They both understood this part of their life well enough. Years of putting their issues aside in order to be the safe and strong unit their pack needed. They’ve had years of experience to acquire the patience and to learn how to function normally enough to not let their troubles affect their pack -well, at least most of the time. Last winter the strength of their bond was severely tested, to the point their whole pack was in disarray. 

“Hey,” Chan carefully held onto his young alpha’s shoulder. “We’ll talk later. Today’s a day of celebration. Let’s go and have fun.”

His word was finite, the way a leader spoke to his pack. Jisung followed in silent acquiescence. While Minho, with a singular look for confirmation, squeezed his wrist before letting him go. 

He met his second alpha in the storage room, after washing up and changing into his festive clothing. Changbin also donned on his hanbok, draping his durumagi overcoat on top. Sleeves rolled, unencumbered, they lifted the heavy storage boxes, searching for the thick rope. 

“Sorry for sticking my nose in earlier,” Changbin said, holding the lid of the box up for Chan to pull the heavy rope out. “But Hyunjin was kind of freaking out when no one in Jeongin’s room knew where Jisung disappeared to.”

Chan nodded, making a mental note to help Hyunjin overcome his trauma of Jisung’s disappearance, in a way that wouldn’t disrupt Jisung’s need for autonomy. It was complicated. 

“He didn’t sleep in Hyunjin’s room?” He realized Jisung never told him. 

Changbin shook his head, no. “He’s been sleeping over with the others. You didn’t know?”

“No,” he frowned. “You know why?”

“Apparently he just chose not to one night.” Changbin indicated with his pointy chin at a box they needed to lift back into place. “At least that’s what Hyunjin said. That Jisung just didn’t show up to sleep with them.” 

Minho came in through the opened door, cursing loudly as Wooyoung trailed behind him. The young omega oblivious -or simply hard-headed- as he chatted with a bright smile. His mate ignored him, collecting the dry kim and other ingredients he needed for the seaweed soup. 

“Channie hyung, hi! Happy Spring Day!” Wooyoung cheerfully greeted him. He walked up to them, and perched himself on top of the storage box Changbin was about to move. “I’m so excited today, I officially hit the big two-five. Can you believe it?” 

“Congratulations on turning twenty-five, Woo,” Chan chuckled. 

“Thank you! You truly are my favorite hyung. Binnie-boop hasn’t even congratulated me yet,” he complained with an exaggerated pout. 

“Get off the box, Wooyoung,” Changbin grumbled. 

“See? He’s so unsympathetic.”

“I thought Minho was your favorite?”

“Nope. This year it’s you.” Wooyoung let out a surprised yelp and Changbin unceremoniously shoved him off the box. “Okay, okay, okay, for the Moon. No manners in this one.” 

“As if you’re not being a nuisance,” Changbin argued. “We’re working here.”

Chan laughed at their silly banter, helping Changbin move the boxes back into place. 

“So, are you excited about hitting the big three-oh?” Wooyoung asked him after dismissing another one of Changbin’s grievances with him. 

“I’m turning twenty-nine this year,” he corrected. 

“Oh, twenty-nine? Ah, you’re still young at heart, hyung. And still looking as youthful and handsome as ever,” he said, cupping his cheek because the sable omega knew no physical boundaries. 

Changbin fake gagged. 

“Thank you, Woo.” 

He suddenly found himself wrapped in a warm embrace. 

“Thank you. For everything, hyung,” he said, his sincerity dripping sweet as his honeysuckle-neroli scent. “I hope this year will be an incredible one for you. Prosperous, bountiful, healthy, happy, and full of love. Blessed be by the Moon, you deserve it.” 

Chan felt dumbfounded at the onslaught of emotions. He wasn’t expecting that, not at all. But Wooyoung’s openness was part of his charm. 

“Thank you.” Wooyoung leaned back, holding his shoulders to smile widely at him. “You too. I hope our loving Moon blesses you this year.”

“Thank you.” The omega then turned to glare at Changbin, who seemed shocked at the abrupt change in mood. “I won’t say anything mean to you, because Lixie is my baby.” Wooyoung stuck his tongue at him, scurrying away before Changbin could retaliate. 

“When are we kicking them out?” his second alpha loudly complained. 

“We’re not kicking them out. They’ll leave when they want to.”

“How about when I want them gone? What about me?”

Chan deeply sighed. “Changbinnie, don’t.” Changbin crossed his arm, leaning heavily against a rack. “You two used to be close.”

“I’m so sick of him,” he confessed, even though there was no hatred in his voice. Chan knew better, and was aware of the ongoing banter between them. “I’m tired of him trying to kiss Felix all the time.”

“They’re both very affectionate.”

“I know, but Wooyoung keeps rubbing his scent on him and it’s getting on my nerves.” He harrumphed, “You know how it is.”

“Excuse me?”

Changbin gave him a once over, realizing he was picking on his leader’s nerves. He uncrossed his arms and let his shoulders slightly drop. “Look, I’m sorry for putting it out like this, but ever since Minho and Jisung started dating, Minho’s been stinking of you.”

Chan blinked, stunned silent.

“So, forgive me for assuming you’re asserting your mark when your mate smells like you for the better part of the day. I don’t like Felix smelling of Wooyoung as much as you don’t like Minho smelling of Jisung. It’s as simple as that.”

“That’s not…” Chan didn’t have anything to say to defend his actions. Instead, he lamely scratched his neck. 

Changbin observed him with a critical look, trying to figure something out. He briefly glanced at the opened door as they heard Mingi yell for Seonghwa’s attention. 

“You remember what you told me? That time we talked about it,” Changbin said, his tone lighter but no less determined. “You said that Minho and Jisung make each other happy and that you wanted them together -to love and be together. And that, despite everything that happened and how messed up it got, you wanted to give Jisung a chance too, because you believed there was something there that could grow.” Changbin’s amber eyes scrutinized him, “That’s what you said. What you wanted. And I don’t take that lightly, because I know you hyung. Because it’s always, the pack needs this, the pack needs that. That you need to do or be something for the pack. So I know how serious you are about something when you want it.”

“I know I said that. I still stand by it, I still want it,” Chan asserted, not liking how his second alpha was picking at his integrity. “I think it’s healthy to give us, the three of us, a chance.”

“Then what’s with the overbearing scenting?” 

“It’s… I don’t hate Jisung’s scent on him. It’s just weird.” 

“Weird how?”

“I don’t know, different.”

“Different how?”

“Changbin-ah,” he said annoyed. 

“I’m walking you through it, hyung. Humor me.” Chan huffed out, crossing his arms over his chest as his second alpha insisted. “C’mon, hyung. How is it different?”

“I guess… Minho always smelled of me before. So, it’s just odd when he smells of Jisung in places he shouldn’t.”

Changbin raised his eyebrow, denoting his ‘a-ha’ moment. 

Chan grumbled under his breath and rubbed his forehead. “Okay, I get it. I see it now.” 

“Look, I get that it’s all different and new, because you’re a mated pair giving Jisung a chance,” he said sympathetically with a hand to his shoulder. “And I don’t know if I’m right or wrong about any of this, but that’s what it looks like from the outside. So, take it as you will.”

Chan leaned his head back, blinking up at the wooden ceiling. Changbin was right. It was so damn obvious even from the outside looking in. Chan was completely undermining Jisung’s attempts to claim his relationship with Minho. It came off like he was rejecting Jisung. 

Changbin squeezed his shoulder, “Hyung, you know I trust you. I always have. But I gotta look out for him. It’s my job.”

“I know.” He softly smiled, feeling his concerns creep up to take hold of his heart. “I don’t want to hurt him, Bin-ah.”

“I know you don’t.” He sighed, eyes heavy with honesty, “But you have. Whether you wanted to or not, you have. So, yeah, don't repeat that. You’re still his leader, he’s still your responsibility.”

Chan nodded, quiet as he agreed. He needed to fix this. He needed to look deep within himself, face his inner alpha. But there was a time and place for that, and it wasn’t now. 

He patted his second alpha’s hand to let him go. “Come on, we’ve got more to do before Minho finishes making the soup.”

They celebrated turning one year older with the savory taste of seaweed soup on their tongues. Their bellies warm and hearts content as they commemorated another cycle of survival. 

Chan’s chest felt mushy, his feelings too grand for his body. He felt so grateful to be alive; elated from his love for his pack, each a stray forever housed in his heart. He felt his emotions overspilling, sharing them with Minho so his mate could catch and hold what his chest couldn’t contain. Minho tried to appear annoyed by his boundless emotionality -their bond humming and thriving with affection- but his smile betrayed him. Instead, his beloved mate held him in his arms, letting Chan hug and squeeze him to his heart’s content. Chan needed the physical touch to channel his sentiments and help his hazy mind feel more concrete. Minho knew him well enough to not ask, to keep a semblance of normality for the harmony of the packs. But he felt the concern in Minho’s heart.

He earned a worried look from Changbin, sitting to their left with the chatty pair that was Felix and Wooyoung. He also noticed Jisung observing them with his ever-curious eyes. He sat further away, by Seungmin and Jongho. 

Words could never describe how grateful he felt for Jisung and Seungmin, his brightest pair. He couldn’t believe his luck that they chose him as their pack and leader. That those two brilliant, ingenious wolves decided he was worthy to guide them. Their brilliance not only gifted him a second chance at life, but also helped keep their friends safe. Chan would never again have to worry about losing any of his dear pack to the inconspicuous wolfsbane.

However, he saw the shift of concern in Jisung’s gaze as he restlessly scratched his knee. His young alpha stopped fidgeting once caught. 

You okay? Jisung mouthed.

Chan squeezed Minho a little tighter, looking over his mate’s shoulder to smile at Jisung. He nodded slowly, discreetly, but Seungmin caught on. His young beta sharply turned at him, a mischievous glint in his russet eyes. Chan narrowed his eyes but it was too late.

“Chan hyung, don’t worry. You can still keep up with us in the games at thirty,” his young beta quipped. 

“I’m twenty-nine!” 

“Oh no, Channie hyung don’t cry,” Felix worried. 

“Pack hug!” Wooyoung declared in a strident voice and he suddenly found himself crushed under the weight of a dozen bodies. 

Minho threatened bloody murder to get the sable omega off his back. They laughed and teased him for being old and sentimental. But all Chan heard was the fondness in their voices. His heart bubbled up with love. He felt buoyant, as if his body could fly away but was tethered back by the arms of his pack -the only place he ever wanted to be.

They initiated the New Year’s Spring games by dividing into two teams with a singular rule: mated pairs were split into separate teams. This meant Chan was the Red Team leader with Seongwha, while Minho and Hongjoong were leading the Blue Team. Following a silly game of shoe toss, they selected their team members. He got Changbin, Yeosang, Jisung, Hyunjin, Jeongin and San, while the rest were allocated to the Blue Team. Then they played ‘Mugunghwa flower bloomed in the moonlight’. 

For the first round Seonghwa was the tagger in charge of reciting the jingle while the Blue Team tried to reach him. Minho didn’t even bother with the game, moving at a snail pace whenever Seonghwa turned his back at them. With the combined competitiveness of Wooyoung, Felix, Hongjoong and Yunho, it didn’t take long for them to win the game. Only Seungmin got caught, but his young beta dashed out of Seonghwa's reach when Yunho split their linked hands apart. Blue Team won the round.

Then came his team’s time to play with Minho begrudgingly being the tagger. In the first song, San pushed Jisung right as Minho stopped singing. Jisung stumbled and got caught by his mate, obligating them to hold hands for the rest of the game. It was a cheap trick and Chan had half the mind to scold San. But he couldn’t deny how adorable Minho looked with his angry glare as he held hands with Jisung, who looked more annoyed for unfairly losing than anything else. 

From then on, Minho would viciously trick them by changing the way he sang the jingle, catching them moving when they were supposed to freeze. He caught Changbin first, then Yeosang, then Jeongin. Seonghwa stood the nearest, with Hyunjin and San following close behind. However, San was shaking, struggling to keep upright from where he froze mid-stride. And Minho, being competitive in the way he only was when he felt pissed off, kept staring at him. Oh his mate had all the patience in the world to wait for San to tire out and fail. The linked team members by Minho’s side complained, trying to plead with him to continue the game. Nevertheless, San couldn’t hold out any longer, placing his foot on the ground to keep from falling. His mate smiled so wickedly, pleased with getting back at the beta.

They were down to three. Chan was staggering behind. Both from being overly cautious with moving, since he knew how heated Minho got, and also from being uncharacteristically distracted. He couldn’t stop staring at them. He kept picturing the timid way his mate kissed Jisung. The furious blush on Jisung’s skin. The tremble of Minho’s hands whilst framing his face. The nervous sigh and the chaste press of lips.

The impact of them kissing wasn’t as harsh as his inner alpha feared. And yet it wasn’t tolerable either. He still grappled with the urgency to break them apart and scruff Jisung for daring to touch his mate. However, Jisung wasn’t any other alpha. He was his pack, a pup he guided into becoming such an incredible alpha. And yet… And yet Jisung wasn’t his the way Minho was his. 

Chan understood exactly the dilemma that continued to mess with his mind, something purely instinctual he couldn’t shake off. He felt territorial. Whether it was naivety or baseless optimism, he mistakenly deemed himself to have tamed this issue. He had already made his peace with letting Minho form a romantic relationship with Jisung. He saw how well they were together, how happier they’ve become in such a short time. He knew Jisung wasn’t competition and trusted his young alpha would never try to come between their bond and steal his mate away -Jisung would rather wither away in the dead of winter than to break them apart. 

And yet the overprotectiveness that came from being the lead alpha existed in a different realm than the territorial possessiveness that arose from being a mated alpha. A clear divide cut between the two and Chan felt the revelation ricochet in his mind, jarringly so. 

“Yah! Chan! Get your head in the game!” 

Changbin’s indignant yell brought him out of his reverie. Minho and Jisung glanced at him with discreet worry, while the rest of his team urged him to hurry. Chan tried his hardest to catch up, not wanting to disappoint his team. However, Seonghwa cut the link between Minho and Jisung’s hands, booking it out of there before his mate could even react. Everyone was screaming as they ran away from Minho, sprinting towards him. Chan twisted and dashed out of the way of being trampled. He looked back just in time to see Minho grip the back of Jisung’s jeogori and pull him in, nearly causing his young alpha to fall. He caught Jisung, wrapping an arm around his waist to hoist him up. 

They lost the game, but no one seemed to mind. Instead the raucous yelling turned into wolf whistles, teasing the new pair. Chan didn’t join them, of course. He stood far away, catching his breath as he watched Jisung’s face redden and Minho death-glare at the hyperactive wolves. Chan was struck yet again with the knowledge of how good they looked together. Their perfect height difference, Minho’s arm secured around Jisung’s tapered waist, with their colorful hanboks, wind tousled hair and rosy cheeks. However, the excessive attention discomforted his mate, causing him to withdraw from Jisung without sparing him a glance. Jisung returned to his team, moving mechanically. 

Chan quelled the urge to check on him. He wondered if the attention upon them made his young alpha feel uncomfortable and anxious. Or if it was caused by Minho’s quiet dismissal. Chan felt too empathetic over the recoil that came from Minho’s sudden cold retreat. He understood his mate well enough to know to never take it personal -it was simply a defense mechanism Minho had yet to overcome. However, he was unsure if Jisung knew about this. From how stiff and awkward Jisung moved, he would guess they hadn’t had that conversation yet. 

However, his worries quietened when Jisung stood by the group and promptly flipped San off. The beta gave a teethful smile at the silent ‘fuck you’ and lifted his palms up in surrender. It was all harmless banter after all. 

The group moved away to start the next game.

“Hyung, are you sure you’re okay?” Jisung whispered to him as they lingered back. 

“Yeah,” he said with an honest smile. He held onto his young alpha’s shoulder, pulling him along to join their team. “Just focus on the games for now, Sungie.”

“But-”

“Jisung.” He stopped them and leaned closer to show he was serious. “I promise I’m okay. I’m not upset about it and I’m not mad at you. So please, let’s enjoy the day. Okay?”

He watched the fight leave Jisung’s eyes. “Okay.”

“Good.” Chan squeezed him a little into his side. “Come on.”

They followed with a round of jegichagi to boost their teamwork. As the current lead, Blue Team decided for the Red Team to start. After testing out the different shuttlecocks, they decided on a heavier jegi cushioned with cotton and wrapped in a mulberry-dyed cloth, with feathers and long blades of grass sticking out the top. They stood in a circle with Chan leading the start, tapping the jegi with the inside of his foot for as many times as he could. He developed great dexterity from playing hours on end when younger, and managed to hit fourteen before his balance began to waver. He swiftly passed it to Hyunjin to continue with the game. He cheered as they counted each kick of the jegi, passing from team member to team member until Jeongin lost his balance and sent the shuttlecock too far. San and Changbin tried to save it, but the jegi fell to the ground. They accomplished a cumulative of sixty-three points. 

At the dismayed sight of Minho’s face, Chan smiled a cocky grin. His mate glared at him and Chan bubbled up with a chuckle. 

Blue Team yelled and hyped themselves up as they formed a circle. Wooyoung began the game, managing an impressive start with eighteen hits. However, he passed the jegi to an overexcited Felix, who ended up kicking the jegi too hard and sent it flying away from their circle. Yunho sprinted with his long legs in an effort to recover the jegi, but the shuttlecock ended up stuck in a bushy pine. They lost with a whopping twenty points. 

Chan’s team gleefully cheered, congratulating the losing team in jest. Changbin and Jisung added salt to the wound, teasing Felix until he flashed them his teeth with a snarl. Chan issued a warning at his young omega, to which Felix puffed his freckled cheeks in annoyance. For the Moon, his anger was too damn adorable. He reminded him so much of Minho that Chan melted inside with the thought of how much his mate influenced their pack. 

The Moon, his heart was all over the place.

Wooyoung wrapped his young omega into his arms, coddling him and keeping him away from Changbin. While the trio bickered, Yunho came up to Jisung for his assistance. Chan had been distracted with helping Minho and Hongjoong sort out the ddakji tiles. But one moment Jisung was there, and then the next he was hoisted up on the tall alpha’s shoulders. 

Yunho had a firm grip on his thighs as Jisung tried to untangle the jegi from the branches with a stick. Jisung swayed backwards and Chan's heart jumped in fear of him falling. Yunho moved to correct their balance. 

“Careful,” the tall alpha said.

Jisung held himself upright with a hand on the top of Yunho’s sable head. With a little more effort, Jisung knocked the jegi to the ground. Yunho cheered while Jisung peered down at him with his gummy smile. Yunho was such a warmhearted wolf, Chan knew that, but the way his honey eyes softened bothered him. 

Jisung was his pack. There was no reason for another alpha to be so affectionate towards his pack. Much less with Jisung. 

Chan shook the thought out of his head. It was disconcerting how confused he felt inside. 

“You good, hyung?” Hyunjin asked.

“Yeah, of course. Why?”

His oldest beta pointed at his hands, the ddakji tile was snapped in half. He didn’t even notice how strong he was clutching the broken pieces. 

“Oh…” 

“It’s fine, it obviously wasn’t a good one.” Hyunjin took the broken tile from his grasp to chuck it into the unlit campfire. 

“Yah! Put me down you big oaf!” Jisung complained, tugging on Yunho’s ear as they approached the group.

“Minho hyung, I got a special delivery for you,” Yunho sing-songed as he finally lowered Jisung in front of an unamused Minho.

“I will gut you in your sleep,” his mate threatened, holding up a ddakji tile like a knife. But Yunho simply laughed as he ran away from Minho’s attack range.

Chan moved towards them, stepping up behind Jisung before realizing what he was doing. He faltered, vacillating his steps. He had an urge to hold onto Jisung, clutch his shoulder or lay his hand on his nape. For what? Jisung hadn’t done anything to warrant that. His young alpha didn’t even want him hovering over him. He should just swallow his worry and let him be.

Chan stepped away, awkward as he felt off kilter. Minho gave him a worried look, tugging his bond in question. But Hyunjin slapped a new ddakji against his chest and brought him out of his brief stupor. They finished sorting the tiles and divided back into their respective teams. 

“Hyung?” Jisung sounded confused, pointing at the ddakji in his hands, almost as an iteration of what Hyunjin did before. “That’s the spare one.”

“Uh, I guess so. I accidentally broke one.”

“Oh…” His young alpha nibbled his lip. He remained paused at his side, as if he wasn’t done. 

“Is there a problem?”

Jisung hesitated, mouth mutely opening and closing. “Nope.” He quickly turned away, shuffling into the forming line. 

Chan looked down at the tile of glued bark sheets. It had the right quantity of layers, but for some reason, it felt heavy. Counting the layers again confirmed it wasn’t bigger than normal, but there was something inexplicable about the ddakji that felt off. 

The Teams gathered into two lines facing the middle, the first two opponents played rock-paper-scissors to determine who defended and who attacked. Jongho attacked first, slamming his ddakji down onto Changbin’s. The tiles bounced off the ground, but Changbin’s didn’t flip. His second alpha got his chance to attack and successfully hitting his mark. But Jongho’s tile stayed upright. The game grew tense. Both alpha's showed off their strength and techniques, with Jongho preferring to throw his ddakji in a squat, while Changbin insisted on flicking his wrist the right way. Everyone splayed to the sides to watch, with suspenseful ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s. After many turns, Changbin managed to flip Jongho’s ddakji. 

Red Team loudly cheered for their first round win. Changbin looked smug with confidence as Yunho stepped up to the challenge. Changbin attacked first, bouncing the tiles in the air. Yunho got his chance, making both tiles fly high. Changbin’s ddakji completed a full turn, falling back upright to the ground. The wolves went wild. With his second alpha’s luck outperforming Yunho’s, he had a merciful extra turn. With the entirety of Red Team's hope on his shoulders, Changbin flicked his ddakji, earning them a consecutive win by flipping the sable alpha’s tile. 

His second alpha’s shoulder rose as he stood taller, puffing his chest out. Chan laughed, cheering him on as Mingi came next in line. Changbin’s first attempt missed. Then Mingi got lucky, flipping his ddakji and earning Blue Teams first round. 

The chaos and banter reached higher decibels. The game went on, round after round until Blue team only had Minho and Hongjoong left, while Red Team was in the lead, with Yeosang, Hyunjin and Chan remaining. Minho stepped up as the new challenger after Seungmin’s loss to Yeosang. The white omega hit Minho’s tile without flipping it. And then Minho won the round with a single shot. Hyunjin was up next, dropping his tile on the ground to defend while Blue Team hyped Minho up. Minho won again on his second attack. Blue Team went wild, cheering him up. 

Chan walked up to go against his mate with the weight of his team on his shoulders. He needed to turn the game around to secure his team’s lead. Minho, grinning with an unwavering confidence, gracefully gave him the chance to strike first. His team cheered, too boisterous to actually be helpful. With his breath caught in his chest, Chan threw his ddakji down on Minho’s. His ddakji struck loud like thunder. The strength of the hit made both bounce and it easily flipped Minho’s ddakji. 

Chan fell deaf to the noise of the packs screaming and was vaguely aware of Changbin shaking him in excitement. Minho brows furrowed as he stared down at the ddakji tiles. His mate shared a look with Jisung, who looked unreasonably guilty as Hyunjin rattled his frame with his arm slung over Jisung’s shoulders. Then Minho threw his head back as he barked out a laugh, the one born from deep within his belly that he loved to hear.

They were acting strange and his mind ran with it, putting the pieces together. Minho picked up the tiles, handing him his back. 

“For luck,” his mate said with a wink, confirming his suspicions. 

He narrowed his eyes at Jisung, who scurried away to hide behind Hyunjin and Seonghwa. 

“Yah! I’m not going down without a fight, hyung,” Hongjoong declared, shoulder’s squared as he stepped up to the challenge. 

Chan concealed his moral quandary, not wanting to expose his mate and Jisung from cheating. 

Hongjoong dropped his ddakji on the ground, ready to defend the first round. “Bring it on.”

Chan let out a short breath and then flicked the tampered ddakji on the resting tile. He easily flipped Hongjoong’s ddakji, wiping the alpha’s cocky smile away. 

Red Team cheered louder, taking the lead with two out of three games won so far. 

When the joyful chaos died down, Minho trotted up to him. He leaned in close to avoid being heard.

“Hyung, can I have the ddakji? I need it for later.”

“Minho-yah, no cheating in the Spring games.”

“It’s not for that. I got a bet against Hongjoong,” he explained with a mischievous grin.

“Minho-yah.”

“What? It’s not like he’s never cheated before.”

Chan deflated. Hongjoong had a long list of misdoings, so there was no fair way to defend his fellow leader. “Okay, fine,” he conceded.

Minho smiled with his cute front teeth showing. Chan wanted to bite his nose, and his cheek, and his neck.  

“Thank you,” Minho said as he caught his wrist midway through handing over the tampered ddakji. His mate gave him a meaningful look, lightly calling through their bond to check up on him. 

Chan smiled with a certain nod, “I’m good.”

Minho squeezed his wrist, spreading warmth into their bond, and then left back to reunite with his team. 

He caught Jisung watching them. They weren’t hiding their concern for him well enough, and that bothered Chan. If they weren’t convinced by his words, then his actions would have to speak for him. So he diverted his attention to Changbin. He slapped his hands on his second alpha’s muscular shoulder, hyping him up to convince him to take the front of the line while he would take charge of the rear. The next game to play was tug-of-war, and Chan was confident his team would win. 

The first round was fierce with great displays of strength. Blue Team advanced first, pulling them towards the midline. Their clearing was deafening with the raucous screaming -he could pick out Minho, Wooyoung and Changbin’s loud hollers from the bunch. Chan looped the end rope around his back to gain more leverage. With a commanding shout he managed to synchronize his team’s efforts and drag the opposing team towards their defeat. They won the first round out of three.

Red Team started the second round with invigorated confidence, wanting to secure the game with a consecutive win. But the Blue Team channeled their competitiveness and fought back with all their might. Chan didn't know what caused the blip, but suddenly Jisung and Jeongin let go of the rope, disrupting the middle and causing Seonghwa and Hyunjin to topple over them. Then the tangled bunch was dragged forwards, crashing into Yeosang, San and Changbin. Only his second alpha remained standing, holding the front. Yet he was dragged further to the midline as the Blue Team kept pulling, screaming excitedly as they gained the upper hand. Chan couldn't support the weakened link from the rear. He was pulled along with the rest of them until Changbin’s feet slid past the midline and they lost the round. 

He didn’t see who started the argument. He just managed to spot Jeongin pushing Jisung away.

“We’re on the same team!” Jisung belligerently yelled as he got in Jeongin’s face. His youngest replied with a snarl, forcefully shoving Jisung away. “What the fuck, Innie?”

Hyunjin intervened immediately as he was mixed in the entangled bodies. He got in between, turning to Jeongin to calm him down and stop him from reaching Jisung again. Seonghwa stood vigilant by Jisung’s side, while Yeosang scooted behind San. Chan let out a sigh before he stepped up and discretely gripped his youngest alpha’s nape, noting how strongly Jeongin smelled, like burnt leather.

“Relax,” he ordered.

But Jeongin ignored him, peering around Hyunjin’s frame to growl at Jisung. His pupils were dilated, solely focused on Jisung.

“We’re on the same fucking team. What’s your problem?” Jisung argued.

Chan raised his hand in warning, “Jisung, calm down.”

“He started it!”

“Jisung,” he said sternly. 

“Yah! Enough, is enough, you punk,” Changbin cut in and pulled Jisung away to diffuse the fight. 

Chan dug his fingers into Jeongin’s nape, hard enough for his youngest to cower into himself and stop growling. Jeongin grumbled annoyed, side-eye glaring at him. Then Minho appeared with a frown as he tried to assess the situation. He clapped his hands in front of Jeongin’s face, surprising him enough to shift his attention. Minho raised an eyebrow, giving an admonitory look. Jeongin quietened down and lowered his gaze. 

“What’s going on, Innie-yah?” Chan asked, massaging his neck to keep him settled.

“I dunno,” Jeongin mumbled. “He just…annoyed me.”

“How?” Minho questioned. 

“Got his face too close to my neck.” 

Jisung had been behind Jeongin during the game, but Chan wasn’t sure if Jisung slipped forward or if Jeongin fell into him. All he understood was that bumping into each other led to a clash between their inner alphas. His youngest was still reactive, however it seemed particularly focused on Jisung than any other alpha of the packs.  

Minho caught a whiff of Jeongin’s lingering scent and gave him a warning look. Chan sighed, realizing the issue at hand. 

The unbearable sense of shame enshrouded his mind. The packs watched concerned and Chan was going to have to swallow his pride and admit his shortcomings in front of them all. He despised being incompetent. His pack deserved better. However, no matter how disagreeable this felt for him, he would not allow this issue to be protracted any longer. 

“Sorry, guys, let’s take a break,” he addressed them all. 

“Sure, no problem,” Hongjoong easily agreed and began shooing his pack away to give them space. Of course, no one listened, too curious to step away.

Jisung was arguing with Changbin, while Felix observed them -his doe eyes comically jumping from one to the other as they rapidly spoke. 

“Jisung-ah, come here,” he ordered. 

His young alpha huffed and stomped his way back. “I don’t know what’s up with him. He’s been reactive with me these past few days and I’ve done nothing-”

“You haven’t settled your alphas.”

Jisung floundered, mouth staggering to articulate his thoughts. 

“You weren’t here for his presentation,” Minho tacked on, voice soft as he regarded him. 

His young alpha’s posture deflated, a guilty look in his eyes, “But he didn’t… He wasn’t acting like this before…”

Chan rested his hand on Jeongin’s nape as he observed him. There was a shade of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. Jeongin didn’t react negatively to Jisung’s return home at first, that was true. On the contrary, he had been protective of his hyung, watching over him and taking care of him from his fragile state. 

Chan had to keep himself from smiling too widely as he felt proud of how well Jeongin’s alpha instincts were flourishing.

“You’ve been taking care of your hyung, Innie-yah? Hmm?” 

Jeongin self-consciously hunched into himself. “I just… I had to. He was…”

“And now? What happened, Yien-ah?” 

“I don’t…I don’t know. I feel like…” Jeongin chewed on his lip, frowning as he reasoned with himself. “Like he’s challenging me.”

Jisung frowned, his face looking all sorts of confused. 

“Aigo, you’re all grown up,” he gushed at his youngest, incapable of stopping himself. “You were treating Jisungie like a pup, taking care of him and-”

“Oh, hell no!” Jisung protested, his ego flaring up. “You’re not stealing my rank.” 

“Jisung-”

“No. I’m not the youngest alpha anymore and I’m no pup. You have no right,” he argued, pointing at Jeongin who merely grumbled back. “You have no claim,” he insisted with anger in his eyes. 

Chan understood the essence of alpha posturing, of resolving ranks, all too well. It was an instinctual necessity of claiming your spot in your pack, of carving out the space in which you belonged, while also being heavily intertwined with your sense of identity. For alphas, it wasn’t just about ranks, it was about who you were as a wolf. 

With his pride shriveling up inside, hating on his own ineptitude, Chan directed the packs to make space for the young pair to sort out their ranks.

“Uhh, get some puffed rice. This is gonna be good,” Wooyoung said, nudging San’s side to get him moving. 

But Chan disagreed with the young omega. Never before had he felt so apprehensive over an act of alpha posturing. His two youngest alphas. Jisung and Jeongin, best friends who had been roommates for roughly five years. He felt so unnerved with where the confrontation might lead. He didn't want them to fight. 

They both stood there, near the middle of the clearing with the rope abandoned and forgotten at their feet. Jisung was snarling at the youngest alpha, scent wild like an angry rainstorm. While Jeongin growled back, standing at his full height with his shoulders squared up. His labdanum scent was dark and pungent, like charred leather. It was very strong, more potent than the time Changbin and him alpha postured against Jeongin. His youngest was barely an alpha, and yet he saw the potential in him. 

He locked eyes with Hongjoong, his fellow leader caught on the same line of thought by the bewilderment in his mismatched eyes and the way his pointy nose was scrunched. 

“Yah! Innie, I’m your hyung. Yield,” Jisung ordered. 

But Jeongin snarled at him, hands out ready to fight. His pupils were dilated, icy gray eyes now black. 

Minho held onto his sleeve, their joint nervousness growing within their bond. Chan slipped his hand into his mate’s.

Jeongin took a quick step forward to fake Jisung out, but Jisung stood his ground.

“Fucking hell, Innie. Don’t make me scruff you,” Jisung tried reasoning, yet his scent turned darker. 

Minho squeezed his hand in fright when Jeongin rushed towards him, Jisung side-stepped and smacked his arm out of the way. Jeongin turned to claw at him, but Jisung moved out of the way. Jeongin crouched down as he recovered his footing. Jisung lifted his shoulders up to appear bigger, baring his teeth at his youngest.  

“Yield,” Jisung said in a rough and commanding voice.

Minho’s knees faltered, and Chan quickly held him upright. Felix, Seungmin, Hyunjin and Yeosang all seemed shocked as well, but none as physically reactive as Minho. His mate tried to conceal his embarrassment from having been affected by Jisung’s deep alpha voice. It stirred something ugly inside, but Chan didn’t have a moment to ponder over it as his attention was caught by Jeongin attacking Jisung again. 

Jisung caught his arms to deflect his claws, but Jeongin kicked at his thigh. Jisung grunted as he faltered enough for Jeongin to strike, scratching his second alpha’s arm. Jisung growled and punched Jeongin straight in the chest. It knocked the wind out of his youngest. Jisung backed up to put space between them, but he tripped over the rope. Jeongin charged towards him. Jisung kicked out to hit his shin, giving him a few seconds to stand up. He forcefully pushed Jeongin back, making the youngest nearly fall over himself. Jeongin regained his balance and squared his shoulders, using his height advantage to intimidate. Jisung raised his hands, claws out. 

“When the hell did you get taller?” He frowned, irritated as he skirted to the side. 

His gaze briefly shifted away from the youngest alpha and he growled louder when Jeongin tried to step closer each time his attention was away. Chan felt his heart in his throat everytime Jisung glanced away from Jeongin. Jisung wasn’t retreating. Instead, he inconspicuously moved their match closer to the campfire. But as neither backed down, they ended up closer again, in attack range. 

Chan wanted to step in and stop them from pouncing at each other again. He wanted to hold Jisung down, keep him contained beneath him and press his teeth to his neck.

Chan blinked the thought away, startled by it and by Jeongin feigning to attack. He was provoking Jisung, testing to see if the older alpha would dare to carry out his threat. Jisung kept alert and unrelenting, not falling for his tactics as he kept walking them closer to the campfire.

Then Jisung jumped up onto a bench. Jeongin faltered from the unpredicted move, staring up at Jisung in confusion. Jisung’s scent was a full-formed storm, enraged and filled with static. He snarled gravely at Jeongin, using the added height to loom over his youngest alpha. Jeongin cracked, laughing at his second alpha. It was like a switch flipped, and all signs of aggression left his youngest alpha.

“Jisung, you’re ridiculous,” he said before doubling over. 

“Yah!” Jisung barked, “I’m your hyung, you little shit. Stop laughing and yield.”

Jeongin snorted in a breath, his eyes back to their characteristic gray. 

“Innie-”

“Okay, okay,” Jeongin agreed, still trying to catch his breath. He was smiling so brightly, dimples peeking as he lowered his head at Jisung, accepting him as a higher rank. 

Chan felt he could finally breathe easy as Jisung relaxed his posture, accepting Jeongin’s submission. It became clear to him, right then and there, that what he needed to resolve his issue between his inner alpha and Jisung wasn’t solely an act of scruffing, but to reestablish their relationship -much like Jisung and Jeongin reinstated their ranks. 

Jeongin picked Jisung up from the bench, calling him tiny despite the older alpha’s complaints as he put him back on the ground. Chan and Minho were the first to approach them, needing to check if they were alright. 

“I can’t believe you punched me,” Jeongin commented, even if his skin remained unbruised. 

“Yeah, well, don’t mess with me again. You should’ve yielded when I said so, you brat,” Jisung said, playfully ruffling the younger’s ebony hair. Jeongin growled, batting his hand away to fix his hair.

“Jisung, your arm?” Minho held his scratched arm.

“It’s fine.”

His arm was healed, but his layered sleeves were cut through. Minho let out a dismayed sigh.

“Are you seriously more worried about my clothes than me?”

“It’s your fancy hanbok. Your only one.”

Jisung pouted, making his eyes rounder, cute and puppy-like that Chan always felt so fond of. 

“It’s fine, nothing that can’t be fixed,” he mediated, throwing an arm around both his young alphas, his third and fourth ranked. “Congratulations on sorting ranks.”

Jisung smiled widely at him, heart-shaped and all teeth. While Jeongin merely grumbled in response, too busy combing his bangs out with his fingers. The others came closer to congratulate them, happy that their riff was finally over. 

“Yo, Jisungie, you got one hell of a jab,” Yunho commented. 

“I’ll make sure to never piss you off, hyung,” Jongho joked, fist-bumping Jisung.

“Yah!” Changbin suddenly focused on him. “How dare you punch Innie, you punk? He’s still a baby.” Jisung scampered away before Changbin could roughen him up. “Yah, come back here!”

“Changbin-ah,” Chan drawled out tiredly, hurrying behind his second alpha to catch him. He knew his threats weren’t serious, but he’d rather contain Changbin’s energy than let him loose. 

Somehow, the chase turned into a game of tag. Everyone was laughing and screaming as they ran around the campfire like a bunch of children. 

And maybe they were still kids at heart, trying to make the most of their lives. 

The impromptu game ended with Hongjoong tagging him after a long sprint. Chan collapsed on the ground, elated as he tried to regain his breathing. His fellow leader plopped down beside him, sweat dripping down his temple. 

“So, Blue Team won. Right?” Hongjoong said with a toothy grin. 

“No way,” Chan denied with a laugh. “We’ve still got games to play.”

In the end, Chan’s team, the Red Team, won at tug-of-war like he predicted. But then his team lost as tuho, which was a given seeing as Blue Team had the best archers and throwers. Over all, Red won against Blue with three out of five games won. They left the wrestling matches optional for whomever wanted to play, as by then the late afternoon was upon them and their bellies hungered. 

They feasted on the variety of dishes his mate and helping hands arduously prepared. They celebrated the coming of Spring, the new annual cycle, with music at the campfire. With double the wolves, they brought out all the instruments they owned, from the old, to the new and the untuned. No one cared as they enjoyed and danced to the tunes they made.

And, finally, Minho and Jisung were having fun without once glancing at him with concern. It warmed his heart to watch them smile and laugh under the glow of the fire. Their happiness meant the world to him. It felt as if they were finally mending the pains from the winter and moving on into the hopeful spring –he wanted to cherish their love, he promised to himself that he would. 

Late at night he stayed at the campfire with Minho. Most of the wolves were inside the cave, but a few pairs were still out in the woods. He wanted to wait for them to return home before retiring to sleep. Minho, of course, stayed up with him.

His mate was burning sticks in the fire, watching with childlike amusement as the flames ate the wood. It resurfaced a memory. Back during their third year of being pack leaders, and a year into being mated, they left their first home in search of a place with more resources. They’d met a friend half a year back, Jaebum, who told them of a bountiful region where many friendly stray packs were settling down. Chan worried at first that living close to other fully male packs would be dangerous and confrontational, but Jaebum assured him that the ones who stayed there had to abide by the community rules. Living amongst other strays laid a promise to help the packs survive through a network of resources, friendship and trust.

Chan was still wary of living near big, established packs that could fight them for territory -or worse. But if they found a place close to Jaebum’s, then they at least would have the elder’s pack to vouch for them. So, after another sleepless night on empty bellies, he decided it was time to move for his pack’s prosperity.

They ventured the sinuous mountains, traveling further into the mainland. Changbin had presented as an alpha two winters back, and he grew so much during the trip, honing his sharp nose and hunting skills. Chan couldn’t be prouder of his second alpha. Yet, out of the three of them, Minho was the most skilled and resourceful one. His omega had years of experience and led the pack like the leader Chan aspired to be.

Around the estimated half-way point, they found a rocky formation to use as a temporal den to stave off the rainy season of July. They planned to only stay until the downpour dwindled enough to travel again. However, on a hunting run, they came across a beautiful, golden pup with fear in his eyes. Soaked to the bone, they offered him refuge for the night and a warm dinner.

They were hardly a pack back then, with no stable home, barely two alphas and an omega, with the oldest being just twenty years of age. So, Chan felt flabbergasted when Hyunjin clung to them, following them whenever the rain eased and crawling, with his tail between his legs, into their temporary camp at night.

No one told him to leave, so he stayed.

Hyunjin became unofficially part of the pack. None protested about having another mouth to feed, not when it became glaringly clear that the pup didn’t know how to hunt. Nobody taught him before. His movements were clumsy, slow and uncoordinated. Hyunjin had no clue about how to work together in a group and often faltered with following through with strategies to catch prey. He didn’t know what berries, fruits or nuts were edible. He didn’t know what fungi to avoid intoxicating or hallucinating himself with. He didn’t know how to build a fire.

How a well-feed, well-kept seventeen-year-old wolf pup hadn’t been taught any survival skills was beyond them. It was like Hyunjin never set foot in the forest before, ignorant to living within nature.

So, they began with the basics. On a warm night, they found cover from the pouring rain under a rock overhang. It wasn’t nearly enough space for the four of them to lay down comfortably, but it kept them dry and that’s all that mattered. They taught Hyunjin how to forage for fatwood off a pine tree, showing him that it was best to cut the lateral branches flush to the trunk where it would be more saturated with resin. The essential oils of the fatwood would combust easier and burn for longer.

They taught him how to strike a match with flintstones, igniting the shards of fatwood for a fire-starter. They showed him the different ways firewood could be stacked, how closer or further apart they needed to be to control the airflow and rate of combustion. Hyunjin took to it all with such eagerness. His smile alight with innocent excitement to learn.

After a warm meal his mate cooked for them, Hyunjin picked up a piece of cold charcoal and asked if they had paper. Changbin laughed while Minho called him silly, how were they to have the luxury of paper when they didn’t even have a home. He would have to make do with a bark sheet, but they needed to wait for the morning to find dry birch.

Hyunjin pouted, his sad-puppy eyes stirred Chan’s heart. The pup wanted to show them something he knew how to do. He claimed he could draw well. So, naturally, Minho suggested he draw on his skin. Hyunjin had been confused by that, so Minho simply picked up the charcoal and drew a black line on his unblemished skin. The shock on Hyunjin’s face was hilarious at the time, as if the idea of dirtying his skin was preposterous -as if the pup never got dirty or muddy playing around before. Now, though, Chan remembered his unbelievable surprise with a hint of sadness over Hyunjin’s lost childhood.

Ask Chan hyung to do it, he draws better than me -Minho had blithely said back then.

And so, Chan spent the night drawing flowers on Hyunjin’s skin, and in turn, he let the pup draw complex shapes and symbols on his arm. He had all the patience in the world to let Hyunjin try again and again until he could make a straight line around the curve of his bicep. Chan let him cover his arms with black-coal, because the more he drew, the more his gaze brightened with what was missing -passion, hope, life.

It was while Hyunjin drew that he opened up and shared a glimpse of the life he was fleeing. Since then, the pup became an official member of the pack, for Chan swore they would find a home someplace where the Hwang clan could never find them.

Later that night, as Changbin cuddled Hyunjin to sleep, Chan stayed by the fire with Minho, watching over his growing pack. His mate was burning sticks -just like he was doing now. Shielded by the sound of the ricocheting rain, Chan confessed his worries to his mate. Was he competent enough as a leader to take on the responsibility of a new pack member? Was he right in promising this pup security from his former pack? Would they ever find a safe haven to call their home?

Minho, with all the faith in the world, looked at him and said -Don’t think too much about it, Channie. Start with the basics. Build a fire, build a home.

Then his mate picked up a coal piece and drew on his wrist two intersecting circles with two lines joining them: two hearts, one bond. He kissed his scribbled skin, letting the charcoal smudge onto his lips.

Minho had smiled at him with a softness and openness that was rare of him. Intimate, in a way that was reserved only for Chan. With the years, that loving smile appeared with more ease. The thought alone of Minho becoming more open with expressing his feelings brought him such great joy. He would always be thankful and proud to witness and be part of Minho’s growth. 

As he watched him now, Chan felt soft –his heart melting through his bones. Minho sported a silly grin while holding two sticks like chopsticks to burn a pine needle above the flames. It was such a nonsensical moment to feel endeared over, but Chan couldn’t stop himself. He loved his little arsonist. 

For the Moon, he still couldn’t fathom how close he got to losing him. He remembered, agonizingly so, the moment of sheer panic he felt when he got poisoned. The fear of leaving his pack behind, of leaving his mate heartbroken and alone.

It shifted something in him, permanently.

Harrowing and humbling in an uncanny way, the experience opened his eyes, helping him realize, above all,  how detrimental it was to let fear paralyze one from living. Life was so fragile, so fleeting, his had nearly slipped away. If he had died then, he would’ve regretted so many things. He would’ve regretted the time wasted letting his jealousy get the best of him. He would’ve regretted not opening up to change for fear of the unknown -of never giving Jisung and himself a chance. He wouldn’t ever forgive himself from keeping Minho and Jisung apart.

The moon was in waning crescent, maybe that was helping him into his bout of introspection. The harvesting culture believed the soil needed rest during the last quarter of the moon phase, so that the land would become more receptive under the new moon. Was that what the Moon was doing to his heart? Making him reflect so deeply on his life to make him more pliable to change?

He wanted this. He wanted them so much. If only his stubborn alpha could agree. 

The sound of voices brought him out of his musings. From the west side of the woods, a group returned home. Belatedly he realized Minho was watching him, silent with tacit concern. But they didn’t speak as the group came into the clearing. Yunho carried a sleepy San on his back, while Mingi walked beside him with Wooyoung in the middle, clinging onto his arm. 

“Night, hyungs.”

“Goodnight.”

Wooyoung slipped away and rushed towards them with a toothy smile. Minho raised a stick, threatening to impale the incoming omega. So, Wooyoung turned to Chan, cheeks rosy and eyes hazy with inebriation. 

The omega hugged him tightly. “Happy New Spring, Channie hyung,” he said and pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek.

“Happy New Spring, Woo,” he laughed. 

“Okay, leave them be, you love leech,” Mingi said as he unceremoniously picked the young omega from his middle and carried him away. “Goo’night.”

“Nighty-night. Love’ya,” Wooyoung bid with a flying kiss.

Chan smiled as he watched them disappear into the cave. And then Minho was walking back from the kitchen, dabbing a cloth with disinfectant. He didn’t even give Chan a chance to speak before he held his face and rubbed the cloth against his cheek. 

“Yah-ha,” he protested through a chuckle, the strong smell hitting his nose. “Minho-yah.”

“Stay still. We gotta kill off his germs.” 

“It stinks.”

“You stink.”

Chan grumbled as he hugged his mate’s legs and pressed his face against his stomach. He rubbed his cheek on the soft, silky fabric of Minho’s durumagi, trying to rub his mate’s scent on him. Minho threaded his fingers through his hair, letting him press closer. 

He needed him. A dependance so deep and inseparable from his being, born from his love and materialized through their bond –he couldn’t live without Minho.  

“Channie.”

Minho looked at him with wonder and concern, his eyes fleeting across to read his face. He felt Minho’s nervousness, just as he knew his mate felt his flux of jumbled emotions.

“You… What’s on your mind? You’ve been half-out of it all day,” he whispered even though they were alone. “Is it…Is it because of what happened this morning?” 

“Not really. No.” He rested his forehead on his mate’s belly to look away, because he knew Minho didn’t quite believe him. 

“But it is part of it, isn’t it?” 

Chan didn’t answer. Not here, not now. Minho’s hand slid down to rest as his neck. 

“Hyung, you have to tell me.”

His voice came out thin, the way it did when Minho struggled with his emotions. Chan squeezed him. 

“Who else are we waiting for?” he asked instead.

Minho took in a sharp inhale and Chan moved with him. “The blond and the brat.”

Chan cracked a smile, but Minho didn’t –the quip dry on his tongue. Minho wouldn’t meet his eyes, gaze down and head tilted to the ground. He looked ashamed. 

They needed to talk about this, but talking was the last thing Chan wanted. He needed Minho, needed his firmness to help keep his mind from floating adrift. 

“Let’s go inside. They’ll be fine on their own.”

He guided his mate into their room, hands clasped together and trailing to their bed. But he jerked back when Minho stopped abruptly. Minho still wouldn’t look at him. Head down and bond sore as he held tightly enough for his hand to tremble.

“Min-”

Minho sharply shook his head. He wanted to speak first, so Chan waited for him to find his voice.

“Ah-em,” Minho croaked out, his voice struggling to breach his throat. 

He covered his mouth embarrassed by the sound. Chan brushed his thumb over his mate’s knuckles, giving him time to clear his throat. It hurt to see him this way. He knew he was afraid to voice his thoughts, scared to say things wrong.   

“I’m trying,” he managed to say. “I… He’s happy. He’s happy when he’s with me.” Minho let out a haggard breath, finally raising his head to face him. His chestnut eyes sparkled with restrained tears. “He still struggles, he's still anxious, but he's happier than he's been in a long time.” 

Chan was aware. He knew Jisung and Minho were good for each other. And it wasn’t only his young alpha whose mood had improved, Minho felt happier these days too. He finally overcame the wave of depression that came after his bond break.

“And, and I'm trying, yeah? I'm trying to be what he needs, to help him feel more confident and secure.” Minho pulled him closer, “I'm trying to be to him what you are to me. Someone who shows me how to love. Someone I'm comfortable to be vulnerable with.”  

His heart thumped warmer with his mate’s heartfelt confession. He kissed the back of his hand as Minho continued. 

“He’s twenty-four now. And I’m his first-” He swallowed hard, eyes wide searching for something in Chan. “Can you imagine what it must be like, to wait, and wait, and when you finally have it, you’ve grown too scared to do anything about it?  I-” Minho huffed out a breath to help the words out. “I’m scared to move too fast, trying to give him what he’s been missing. I’m scared to move too fast for you. That one day you’ll pretend you’re fine with it, when you’re not.” 

“Minho-”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” his voice broke. Chan quickly embraced him to keep him from falling apart. His mate gripped his back tightly, desperate to keep him close. “Don’t, don’t lie. Don’t lie to me and let me hurt you,” Minho pleaded into his neck. “I want to do better –be better for you both. I can’t do that if you lie to me.” 

“I didn’t lie.” Chan let out a deep breath to lessen the shared pain in his chest. “I didn’t lie. I was being brave.” 

His mate made a pained noise and tucked himself closer. “I’m sorry.”

“No. No, Min.” He pushed back to face him as best he could. He needed to see into Minho’s eyes.

“But you’re not ready.”

“Minho, love, I don’t know how to ever feel ready for any of it. But I want to, for the Moon I want to.” Chan cupped his face between his hands, “I want to see you happy together and I want to be part of those sweet moments too.” 

Minho bit his lip, still looking unsure. But Chan already made his decision and he was going to follow through with it. No matter what. 

“I… Sometimes you have to start before you’re ready, or you’re never going to do it at all. Yeah? I think I need that.”

“But the way you reacted, Channie.”

“I’m not upset about it, I’m territorial,” Chan finally admitted.  

Minho stared silently, reading the sheer honesty from his face. “You’re jealous?”

“I’m not jealous. I’m territorial of you, Min. I…” He huffed out a strained breath, resting his hands on his mate’s shoulders. “You’re mine. You’ve been mine for nine years. You being with Jisung isn’t suddenly going to change that.”

Minho nodded, shyly. “Okay,” he softly said -a simple word to let him know he was being heard. 

“Believe me that I want this. I want us, the three of us. But no matter what my heart wants, I can’t simply override the instincts I’ve followed for years. It’s going to take me some time to relearn this, and I don’t think it’ll ever happen if I don’t start now.” He cupped the side of his face, wanting all of his attention, “You have to trust me, love. A kiss isn’t going to break me.” 

“Okay.” Minho tenderly pushed his face into his hand. “Okay, but you have to tell me if you’re not okay with something. Anything,” Minho insisted, gripping onto his wrist. “You have to.”

A smile bloomed on Chan’s face, feeling so much for the wolf he loved. His mate who was still learning how to give and share his love. His mate who still prioritized Chan’s feelings while extending the limits of their relationship -who was brave enough to take the first steps forward, making a path for him to follow.

He kissed Minho’s forehead. “I will,” he promised onto his skin. 

His mate relaxed, eyes closed as he let him kiss along his face. But his scent still smelled sour. 

“What else?” Minho asked as he nuzzled against his face. “What else is on your mind, Channie?”

There were so many things occupying his mind, but he didn’t want to be preoccupied with them. He wanted to enjoy the moment, feel Minho, his warmth and closeness. But he knew Minho needed an answer. A truthful answer. 

He pressed their cheeks together and whispered, “I’m so grateful to be alive.”

A sudden sharpness of shock rippled through their bond. It was alarming how fast Minho shedded silent tears. 

“Hey, no. Good thoughts only, love. Good thoughts, happy thoughts.” Minho glared at him as he helped dry his tears. Chan couldn't help the endeared smile from stretching his lips, he adored Minho’s disgruntled face, annoyed at losing control over his feelings with how sentimental Chan was being. “I’m so happy, love.”

“You emotional sap,” he complained without any heat. “You’ve had my heart in knots all day.”

“I have your heart?” He teased.

Minho scowled at him, roughly brushing his eyes dry. “Of course you do, you fool.”

He laughed, so fond and so enamored with how adorably grumpy his mate was. He wrapped him in his arms, earning a little grumble from him. He swayed them, from side to side.

“Sorry for being so sentimental today.”

Minho shook his head, burrowing nose into his neck until it tickled. “I love you,” he whispered, warming their bond with a small tug. “I love you, mushy feelings and all.”

He smiled into his soft hair. He hugged him tighter, as to feel his heartbeat next to his own. “I love you so much, Min. With all my heart.”

Minho twisted in his arms to kiss the corner of his mouth. He leaned back to gaze into his mate’s beautiful eyes, so dark and magnetic that they pulled him under. Chan kissed him the only way he knew how to kiss him: with all his love and devotion. 

He held the love of his life in his arms, one hand cradling his face to kiss him deeply. He could picture Minho so vividly in his mind; the angle of his brows, his long lashes, his sharp nose pressed into his cheek, the lines of his jaw, and his pouty lips. For the Moon, he loved Minho’s mouth. From the shape of his prominent Cupid’s bow, to his teeth and gummy smile -and the taste of him. It felt unfathomable how much he enjoyed kissing his mate, even after all these years together, he never tired of feeling his mouth pressed against his own.

He wrapped an arm around the curve of Minho’s back, pulling him in from his waist. He loved the sturdy feeling of his mate in his arms. So warm, so concrete, so real. Having him, all of him, within his hold helped channel all the feelings bursting inside his chest. Minho was his to hold, his to have, his to love. 

They kissed deeply, their touches becoming needful, determined. Chan felt too hot under all his layers, but his hands found the tie of Minho’s durumagi instead. He tugged it loose, blindly removing the overcoat and letting it drop to the floor. Minho’s scent grew warmer, sweeter, his glands partially exposed. His obsession with his mate’s scent had no limits. He kissed down the column of his neck, teasing his skin with playful nips. 

“Hyung,” Minho breathily whined, pulling at his clothes. “Take it off.”

His mate's hands worked quickly, already loosening his jeogori before Chan dropped his durumagi on the floor. In a blink of an eye, he was shirtless. Minho ran his hands over his torso, feeling him up, appreciating the hard earned sculpt of his body. 

It greatly pleased him to feel Minho's attraction towards him. To feel wanted as much as he wanted him. His mate always managed to satisfy him, and feed the need and greed of his alpha's ego. 

Chan held onto his jaw to kiss him again, and again. He kissed him greedily, his inner alpha hankering to consume and take everything from his mate. He deepened their kisses, needing to swallow the air from Minho’s sweet mouth to fill his breathless lungs. 

Minho hooked his leg on his hip, pressing their clothed arousals together. The sinuous rolls of his hips drove his mind insane, capturing his full attention. What Minho shied away from his voice, spoke louder with the moves of his body. 

Minho wanted to fuck. And Chan was already consumed with desire.

“Min,” he moaned into his mouth, hands roaming and feeling up his mate’s body through the layers of silk, ramie and cotton. “Let me love you.”

He groped his ass, digging his fingers into his muscles. Minho nodded, mouth parted and touching his own. Chan spared a single second to feel thankful of Minho’s diligence in personal hygiene, not having to wait another second to prep his mate. With an aroused growl, Chan lifted him up by his thighs and brought him to bed. 

For the Moon, he looked ethereal splayed out on their bed in the silks of his hanbok. Chan stopped him from loosening up his jeogori. 

“Keep it on.” 

Minho narrowed his eyes. “I don’t want it to get dirty.” 

“I’ll wash it,” he absentmindedly replied, too distracted with stripping Minho’s paji pants off. 

“Chan,” he grumbled, but the fight left him as Chan stroked his cock. 

He leaned forward to kiss Minho’s pliant mouth. “Just this once,” he insisted, grinning widely as Minho’s breathing got labored, brows pinched together and eyes clouded with lust. The sight of his face alone had Chan’s cock aching. “Turn around.”

Minho breathed out a whine as he flipped onto his stomach. Chan salivated at the sight of silk draped at his hips, exposing his muscular, tattooed legs and tight ass. Chan collected serous drool in his mouth, before he dipped down slick up his mate. He was guilty of enjoying this process too much. There was something so empowering and satisfying to be able to gradually break apart Minho’s composure until he was moaning and gasping for more. 

With one hand he worked his mate open, while with the other he felt the silk on Minho’s back and every shudder from each teasing press to his prostate. He was being thorough, enjoying the taste of him, the trembles and spasms, the give of his muscles, the increasing desperation in Minho’s voice.  

He first ignored Minho’s grip on his hair, too tempted with trying to get his mate to come on his tongue and his fingers alone. But then Minho’s pulling turned urgent, desperately pleading. 

“Chan -fuck, please,” he gasped out. 

His chest rumbled uncontrollably. His inner alpha was too present, awakened in the need to please his mate and give him everything he needed. He burned with desire, aching to connect with his mate. 

He stripped himself fully before he rolled Minho onto his back again. His mate welcomed him with legs spread, his jeogori loose and open, hanging from his shoulders. Chan’s head spun from Minho’s heady, cloying scent as his glands were exposed. With Minho’s knees tucked to his chest, Chan entered him, groaning loudly at the enveloping heat. Minho’s hands found his hair again, pulling him deeper to kiss him senselessly. Chan’s brain turned to mush at the sensation of Minho’s hot, velvet walls pressing against his cock. 

His mate was perfect. Everything about him obsessed Chan, transforming him into a lustful and indulgent wreck. 

Chan kissed and nipped down his neck as he thrusted into him, deep and hard enough to punch a gasp out of Minho’s mouth. Minho tilted his head to the side, pulling him by his hair towards his scent gland. Without hesitation, Chan bit down, inhaling the mouthwatering sweetness of his scent through the roof of his mouth. He felt euphoric with every bite to Minho’s gland, their bond singing with warmth and satisfaction. 

Chan’s growling turned deeper as he felt his knot swell and balls tighten. He shifted them around, lying them sideways to keep thrusting into Minho’s heat. He held Minho tight, one arm snaked under his head to hold Minho’s neck, the other hand gripping at his hip bone. In this position Minho could push his hips back, meeting every snap of his own and driving them closer to climax. 

Minho’s spasmic orgasm spurred the onset of his own. Chan bit onto his gland, moaning as his knot took, balls taught as he came hard. He felt the overwhelming elation through their bond, high on oxytocin and on the magnetism of the mating bond -their hearts beating rapidly as one. 

This feeling, this connection with Minho was his, and only his, to have for as long as he lived. 

Now cleaned and with the bedding changed, Chan laid with Minho snuggled on his chest. His mate was half drifting into dreamland, while the exhaustion from Chan’s body didn’t reach his mind. He loved when Minho cuddled him to sleep. He used to wish he was bigger. A taller and wider alpha, like Yunho, to be able to completely engulf Minho -drawn small and protected, encompassed by Chan to forever live within his arms. 

But the Moon favored him in other ways, making him match his mate’s height and gifting him with long arms to fit snugly together, not even a sliver of air between them. It made him wonder. If no space was left between them, then how could Jisung ever fit? If he couldn’t change, if he couldn’t ever accept the physicality of Minho and Jisung’s relationship, then were they meant to always love apart? Chan keeping Minho to his own at times, then Jisung at others? That’s not what he imagined when he accepted Jisung’s courtship. 

However, he also never imagined becoming the type of alpha that seeked subordination. 

Minho kissed his chest, right on the inked lines of his claws. “You’ll never sleep if you keep thinking so hard, Channie,” he languidly spoke. 

Chan hummed as he hugged him closer. He dropped a kiss to the top of his head. Minho splayed his hand up his chest, fingers sliding down the dip of his collarbone. His mate waited silently for him to speak, fingertips drawing on his skin. 

In the dark of their room and with Minho's weight grounding him, he finally felt the courage to speak. “I know what I need to do to feel better about it. But I fear it’s unfair to Jisung. Claiming him without truly claiming him. Marking him as my inner circle as you are. I need to make my nature know he belongs to you the way you belong to me.” 

And so Jisung would belong to Chan by association -went unsaid. The idea was simple yet demanding. If he felt territorial over Minho, then he needed to extend his inner circle from his mate to his mate's second lover, including Jisung as part of his to have. 

And wasn't that the sweet cruelty of it all? To know Jisung longed to belong to Chan the way a lover would, when Chan wasn't able to give him that yet. And still, he demanded Jisung to give into his claim without the true promise of a mate in return -an unfulfilled claim. 

“Is there nothing else we can do?” Minho whispered after a long wait.

Chan sighed out the weight of his heavy thoughts. “I really want to scruff him. But I don’t think it’s going to be enough.”

His mate fell silent again, fingers unmoving on his chest. “We have to ask Jisung and let him decide. Okay?”

Chan bit his tongue. He knew Jisung needed to have a say in all this, but he’d rather not. As the lead alpha of his pack, he learned to reconcile his heart with physically correcting and disciplining his wolves. He never wanted to put anyone through the smothering invasiveness of being dominated into subordination. To be scruffed daily and kept in check under the dominance of his rank. 

He swore he wouldn’t be that kind of lead alpha, and yet he was teetering too close to crossing that line. 

Minho leaned up on his elbow to peer down at him. His chestnut eyes were bottomless in the darkness. Minho poked his forehead, “No.”

“No?”

“No,” he said with finality. 

Chan’s mouth curled with amusement. Sometimes, the simplest answer was the best. 

Minho laid completely on top of him, his leg hooked to his hip in a near straddle. Chan relaxed under the grounding weight of Minho’s body, while his omega tucked his face into his neck, hugging him tight. 

“This is not the same as what Leader Bang did to you,” Minho sleepily asserted, reading him so effortlessly. “This is not subordination. This is… This is new. And we’ll figure it out together. The three of us.”

Chapter Text

By the time dawn broke, Chan had rested his eyes without truly sleeping. Despite Minho’s efforts, his mind wouldn't shut off, thinking and thinking about how to deal with his instincts without having to dominate and scruff Jisung. But nothing that came to mind managed to quell his nature’s urge.

When Minho woke up, Chan still hadn’t come up with any other alternatives. They rose, washed up and made their bed, all the while with his mind static on the same solution. 

Among the things he considered when Minho confessed his feelings for Jisung, was that if they were to open their relationship, then, inevitably, Chan and Jisung’s lives would become tightly intertwined. As mates, Minho and himself shared too much of each other –their identities depended on their coexistence. Needing Jisung to become part of his intimate, inner circle to quell his wolf’s territorial instincts was simply part of how their lives would mesh. However, he never imagined he needed something like this to happen so soon. 

He was finishing up cleaning Minho’s jeogori, left soaking overnight in the washbowl, when Jisung came over. His movements were awkward and stiff while holding a basket with both hands smelling nervous despite clearly having washed up. 

“Good morning.” 

“Hmm.”

“Morning, Sungie.”

“I brought tea.” He lifted the basket. 

“Sit here,” Minho said, piling pillows at the corner. 

His young alpha shuffled around him, giving Chan a wider berth than necessary. Chan smiled softly and tried to ease up his scent to appear more welcoming.

“What happened to your jeogori?” 

“Hmm? Got dirty.” Minho narrowed his eyes at Chan, still blaming him for it. 

“How?” Jisung wondered, looking between the both of them. 

Minho didn’t reply. Instead he stared straight at him, making Jisung look at his leader for an answer. His eyes round with innocent curiosity. Chan felt his ears heat up. 

“Um, it was my fault. Don’t worry about it.” He stood up, damp jeogori hanging from his elbow and bowl in hand. “I’ll be right back,” Chan quickly excused himself before his whole face turned red. 

When he walked back into the cave, he felt both warm and jittery through his mating bond. He found Minho whispering to Jisung, their faces so close together. Minho poked his nose against Jisung’s cheek and Chan felt the urge to scruff rise again. Jisung backed away, eyes cautious as he watched him come in. Chan could feel his inner alpha clawing inside his gut. His teeth ached to bite. 

Chan sat down on the empty spot, leaning his back against their bed. His mate sat between them, close enough to Chan for their sides to touch, while Jisung scooted a little further back to the wall. 

Three tea cups were served, steam rising. There was this stilted tension, as if they were all stalling with a sip of tea. As always, Chan’s tea was sweet. 

“I, um-” Jisung twisted around and picked out flowers from the basket. Two white calla lilies. “Here, I brought them for you both.”

Chan felt his insides soften. He held the calla lily to his face, taking in the faint smell of the flower. Minho peered down at his own, feeling the ivory spathe between his fingers. 

“You can’t eat this one, hyungie. It’s toxic,” Jisung said. 

Minho glared at him. Chan laughed, collecting the flower from his mate's grip. He put them in the vase, along with the coral peony, red rose, and the two flowerless camelias. 

“Thank you for the flowers.”

Jisung smiled with a nod. But his gaze wavered, falling down. “Yeah, um…” He looked between them, fingers digging into his leg. “Are we finally going to talk about it?” 

“Yeah.” Minho held onto his young alpha’s hand, pulling him closer to them. 

Jisung smelled sweatier. “Okay, so… What…What, what is it, hyung?”

“Jisung-ah,” he sighed out, already apologetic. “I’m still territorial of Minho. It’s not that I don’t want you two together, I do, I really do. I’m not upset and I’m not jealous. At least it doesn’t feel like it. It’s, uh, it’s different.” Jisung stared at him, round hazel eyes attentive to every word. “He's mine, that’s how my nature sees him. I want to open our relationship, I want to share Minho with you. But my instincts don’t understand that.”

“Oh...” The tension partially drifted away from Jisung’s shoulders. “Yeah… Okay, yeah.”

“Yeah?” Chan repeated, amused at his reaction.

“Yeah,” Jisung chuckled a little. “He’s your mate, hyung. Something like this was bound to happen. It’d be dumb to not expect it.”

“You’re calling me dumb?” 

“A little,” he teased. 

Chan tried to appear affronted, but if anything, he just felt relieved. Minho nudged his shoulder, smiling softly at him –they could work this out. 

“So what are we going to do?” Jisung asked, soft and uncertain. “Do you need to scruff me?”

“Were you expecting me to?”

“Uh, kinda? You had that look, the ‘Jisung’s being bad’ sort of look.” 

He rubbed his forehead, “Sorry.”

“You weren’t,” Minho spoke up. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Sungie.”

“Let me be clear, this is not a punishment, Jisung,” he stressed, because the last thing he wanted was for Jisung to believe he was being chastised for falling in love. “I need to dom you, scruff you and scent the shit out of you. But not to correct your behavior. I need it to reestablish our relationship to help my inner alpha feel reassured about it all.”

He tried to stay honest without being too harsh, yet the underlying message was clear: in this relationship they were building, he came first. Both as Minho’s mate and lead alpha, he held a higher rank to Jisung. They weren’t equals –at least not yet. 

And as the higher ranked alpha, Jisung was to be subordinate to him. Jisung would have to submit to him the way a mate would to their alpha, despite them not being remotely close to reaching that phase yet –if they ever would.

Chan was asking for too much and too soon. But he trusted it was the only way to settle his inner alpha and accept Jisung as Minho’s second partner. And if Jisung was serious about Minho, as Chan believed him to be, then he would comply.

Jisung remained silent, his gaze distant as he took the time to understand everything. 

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Jisung asked in a strained voice, sounding skeptical and guarded, as if he couldn’t quite believe the words that came out of Chan’s mouth. “You want me to submit to you, not as a pack member, but as…as… You want to mark me?”

“I don’t want to mark you, Sungie. It wouldn’t be fair nor honest to do that now.” Chan felt horrible as he saw Jisung physically recoil, hunching into himself. “I’m sorry, but I need something close to that. Something to help my inner alpha realize you’re Minho’s without being, like, like an outsider to me. That you are a part of my inner circle like him –with him.” 

“So I’m someone like that to you, like what I am to him.” His voice faltered as he understood Chan’s reasoning. His young alpha swallowed his nerves down as he visibly tried to keep his composure. “So you want me to submit to you without being claimed?”

“Yes,” Chan solemnly answered, understanding the gravity of what he was asking. 

Jisung seemed stumped for a moment, eyes increasingly rounder as he looked between them. 

“You don’t have to decide now,” Minho softly comforted. 

“You don’t even have to agree to this,” Chan added, causing Jisung to scrunch his brows in confusion. “I never wanted to put you in this position, Sungie. And I don’t know how many times I need us to do this for it to work. So you should take your time to think about it.”

“What is there to think about?” Jisung said, his voice dry. “If this is what you need to feel better, then I’ll do it.” 

“Sungie, no,” Minho said. “Take the day to consider it.”

“Consider what, hyungie? He just needs to bite me a little.”

“It’s a lot, Jisung,” Chan stressed. “I’m asking for a lot from you.”

Jisung huffed out a breath, “I can take it.”

“Jisung, please-”

“I can take it.” Jisung was set with determination, unwavering. “I’m already ranked lower than you, this isn’t going to change that.”

“But the others will notice,” Chan worried. “Are you really going to be okay smelling like I scruff you all the time?” 

Jisung hesitated, averting his gaze as he scratched at his knee. Minho knocked their kneecaps together to stop him. 

“You don’t know yet,” Jisung mumbled mid thought. “Hyung, you don’t know if this could be a one time thing or not. We have to at least try.” 

He sighed, giving in. “Even so, we’re not doing this now.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to ruin your day, Sungie. I don’t want the others to smell you and think you got chastised or something.”

Jisung snorted, “Thanks.” 

“Besides, we’ve got our first Spring run today.” He continued, nudging his foot against his young alpha’s shin, “I want to watch how you and Jeonginnie behave.”

Jisung harrumphed, crossing his one arm over his chest. “As long as Innie behaves, I won’t fight him.” 

“Did you guys talk it out last night?” Minho asked.

“Yeah, we’re good. It’s, uh, kinda embarrassing,” Jisung deflated, lips pressed into a line as he leaned closer towards Minho. “He apologized for acting overprotective of me again. It sucks because I’m his hyung. I should be the one watching over him, not the other way around.” 

“He’s still learning. He’ll tone it down eventually and you’ll be there to teach him as well.” 

“Yeah… You’re right.” Jisung let out a hefty sigh, “I can’t believe how tall he’s gotten. 

“Ugh, you’ve all gotten so big,” Chan commiserated. 

Minho laughed, shaking him by the shoulder. “Small hyung.” 

He deadpanned at his mate, but Minho beamed back at him, gummy smile and cute teeth. He transmitted so much affection through their bond, that Chan felt himself melt from the warmth. He caught Minho’s wrist and kissed his hand. Jisung watched them with such an openness, his affection for them blatant in his eyes. 

They could work this out. Chan would make sure of it.

Jeongin, contrary to Chan’s expectations, did not behave. Initially their run went smoothly, joyous as they got to stretch their wolf legs and fill their lungs with fresh spring air. But as the wolves began playing and roughhousing with each other, Jeongin’s behavior turned. He first targeted Seungmin, wrestling his young beta until the brown wolf yielded to his youngest alpha, belly up and tongue lolling to the side. But Jeongin wouldn’t let up, growling and biting at Seungmin when he tried to get away. Chan issued his first warning to his ebony wolf, nipping him by the ear to get off of Seungmin. 

His second warning came when Jeongin snapped at Jongho, catching Hongjoong’s youngest by the muzzle. They were play-fighting, but something triggered Jeongin to get high-strung and defensive, keeping Jongho locked in a tight hold. Luckily Jongho didn’t escalate it into a fight. Chan knew how strong the young alpha was and how easily he could’ve overpowered Jeongin. But it would’ve been unwise to initiate a fight in Chan’s territory, in spite of Jeongin’s blatant instigation. Instead, Jongho kept his ground, growling at Jeongin to keep him from trying anything more while patiently waiting for Chan’s intervention. 

A firm tug at Jeongin’s thick scruff was enough to correct his youngest’s behavior and let go of the other alpha. Jongho was cool about it and easily accepted Jeongin’s apology. Hongjoong came over to check on them both, and gave Chan a silly shake of the head. His blue and brown mis-matched eyes telling him how alphas would be alphas –testing each other’s egos and pushing on ranks. 

From then on he kept Jeongin close to him to avoid another incident. That was until Jisung appeared. His young alpha came in chasing after San with Seungmin and Mingi. Chan didn’t know where they had wandered off to nor why they ganged up against the Choi beta. But suddenly San ran straight past him from behind, startling him. And then Jeongin tackled Jisung, who appeared right after the beta. 

They tumbled around, growling and biting at each other to gain the upperhand. Chan barked at them to stop. Jisung obeyed, but Jeongin just wouldn’t listen, tackling his blue wolf once more. It took Jisung’s blue wolf catching Jeongin by the scruff for his youngest to calm down, yielding to the older alpha. Jisung kept him submitted until Minho came to assist him, nipping at Jeongin’s scruff to chastise the rowdy wolf. 

Jeongin whined and crouched at Minho’s feet, giving his best display of an apologetic pup. But his mate wasn’t having it. Growling and grounding Jeongin to stay lying at his heels. Chan checked on Jisung, relieved to find him unharmed. If anything, Jisung was simply annoyed at his youngest for jumping him like that. 

He’s still learning. 

Jisung huffed, baring his teeth, I know.

At the sight of his teeth, he felt, for a split second, the urge to scruff Jisung again. His jaw ached and teeth buzzed to take a bite. Instead, he curved the itch and tapped his nose to Jisung’s face. You did good, bud. 

Jisung took an awkward step back -that had Chan questioning his own actions- before changing course. He sat in front of Jeongin, peering down at his youngest alpha, still belly down on the grass. 

What’s with you being an absolute menace, Innie-yah?

Sorry, hyung. Jeongin booped his nose to Jisung’s leg. You guys came outta nowhere. I couldn’t help it. 

You have to follow your nose, Yiena. Next time someone dashes by, take a second to identify their scent before chasing after them. Minho lectured, his wolf eyes narrowed and citrusy bergamot scent imposing. 

Jeongin whined and wiggled around onto his back, showing his belly to his lead omega and begging to be forgiven. It still shocked Chan to see Jeongin willingly expose his stomach like that. It filled him with hope for his youngest and pride for his mate’s hard work. 

He finally joined them after his mate’s pointed look -in his defense, Minho had always been better at disciplining their pack. Chan’s heart was just a little too big and a little too soft. 

He ordered Jeongin to flip over and he firmly bit onto his back scruff, growling deeply to reprimand his behavior. This was his third and final warning. He stood fully above his youngest to nip and lick his face and neck. Jeongin vocally complained, but let himself be chastised just the same, maintaining his passive submission.

You’re embarrassing me, Jeongin whined as he kept grooming his hair. His rich labdanum scent burning into leather.  

Chan growled for him to stay still. If you’re going to act immature like a pup, then I’m going to treat you like a pup.

I said I was sorry. He growled back, his mood turning snappy.

Three times, Jeongin. Chan closed his jaw around his youngest’s scruff, pressing hard enough to keep him still. You’ve misbehaved three times. 

Chan bit harder, shaking his head to roughen him up a little, until his youngest’s complex scent simmered down and mellowed into rockrose. The soft tone of his scent was enough for Chan to know Jeongin wasn’t going to fight his punishment anymore, so Chan finally let go of his thick neck. Jeongin let out a pitiful whine as he tried to cover his snout with his paw. It stirred Chan’s heart, feeling bad for having to be strict with his youngest. 

He nosed at Jeongin’s ebony head, licking the small hairs near his flattened ear. Jeongin huffed out to display his annoyance at being groomed, but did nothing more to go against it. Grooming his youngest alpha was such a rarity, that Chan couldn’t help himself from going a little overboard. He nuzzled Jeongin’s head and neck, rubbing his face and neck along his silky fur. He scented his youngest, overbearing him with his strong, smoky odor to remind his wolf to obey his leader. But, Jeongin’s haptic tolerance was thinning by the second. 

Hyung , he loudly whined, tail swishing against his flank in annoyance. Too much.

I’m not done yet. He let up on the scenting, but kept him lightly held by his scruff with the tip of his teeth. Tell me what’s going on with you. Why are you being so prickly with the others, Innie-yah?

I, I don’t know. Everything is just too much, like… Too many scents, too many wolves. I feel itchy all the time. 

Itchy?

Chan thought it over, watching the other wolves running around and playing without letting go. Play-fighting was part of their wolf way to socialize. Nipping teeth, intrusive muzzles, claws and paws pushing and shoving. Jeongin had always been more tactile in his wolf form. However, he could understand how it could become overstimulating for Jeongin to have double the amount of wolves running about and wrestling around him.    

Aaw, Innie-yah. What did you do? Felix questioned as he scuttled over to them. His silver wolf dropped down to poke his nose against his youngest’s jaw. Why are you in Channie prison? 

Chan deadpanned at him, as best as he could with his teeth still clamped on Jeongin’s fur. He’s been picking fights. 

Noo. Felix tilted his head, whining. That’s not very nice, Innie.

Jeongin growled. Bite me. 

But Chan growled louder and gave him a small tug to correct his behavior. 

Yeesh. I didn’t think you’d be a menace like Ji was.

He finally let go of his youngest’s scruff, only to lick at his silky fur to comb it back. 

Hyung . Jeongin whined.

Me too . His young omega piped up, whining for his attention. I want some love too, hyung.  

And who was Chan to not oblige? He leaned over to nuzzle Felix’s head, staying steady above Jeongin and keeping him caged between his legs. His heart soared as his young omega rolled over, displaying his belly. Chan nipped and licked Felix’s soft fur. Jeongin let out a weak grumble as he was subjected to watch the affectionate display. 

What’s all this? Hyunjin wondered as he trotted towards them. 

They’re being gross. Jeongin whined. 

Oh, grow up, Innie. Felix growled. Chan nipped him a little firmer. His young omega whined and booped his nose against his. Felix tried licking his face, but Chan wouldn’t have it, grooming his young one instead.

So it’s pack bonding time, huh? Hyunjin laid down in front of them.

Felix twisted around to look at him upside-down, giving Chan plenty of scruff to groom. His honey-basil scent warm and sticky. Get in line . 

No thanks. Hyunjin huffed, despite nudging his nose against Chan’s foreleg. Why are you in Channie prison, Innie?

Chan growled at that, but his inner alpha cared little as his full focus was in attending to his young omega’s needs. 

Nothing… I just got a little snappy. 

Aah, better keep those teeth to yourself, you little piranha. 

Jeongin snapped his teeth together. 

Yah! Hyung, why? Changbin came over, anxious and heated as he sidled next to Felix. Why my mate? What’d he do?

Chan growled loudly, signaling he wasn’t to be messed with or questioned, and continued to groom his young omega. The black wolf grumbled and clawed at the ground. Changbin sulked, annoyed and displeased. He lowered himself to Felix’s height and tried to intervene. But Chan’s alpha wasn’t having it. He growled deep and rough, baring his teeth at his daring second alpha. 

I'm not done.

Changbin whined, dropping his head down on top of his paws, never one to fight his leader over pettiness. Just to tease the other, Chan swiped his tongue on Changbin's forehead, leaving him with a silly cowlick. 

Don't be jelly, Pumpkin. I'm happy. Felix’s tail thumped louder against the ground. I finally got some of hyung's attention. He's been so busy lately. The only one who's got the privilege is Jisung. Chan tugged his hair. Ouch.

Yeah. How’d your date go? Hyunjin chimed in, tilting his head sideways, ears up and attentive.

Chan paused his ministrations, happy about the genuine interest his pack showed. It was nice. I had a good time. 

You did? Aww. Felix smiled a toothy grin, paying no mind to his mate licking his face and neck to clean off Chan’s scent. What else? 

He was unsure of what to tell them. He remembered Jisung’s sunshine smile when he couldn’t shut up about Minho, telling his young alpha stories of their youth. It was a memory too precious to share. 

Give us the tea. Hyunjin whined. 

No.

Changbin huffed out, shaking his head. Oh, come on, hyung. Give us something.

We need it. Felix insisted. What did you think of Ji as a date?

Well, umm… Jisung’s attentive and, and nice, and really funny and… charming. 

Aah! Hyunjin rolled over. Nice? Charming? You’re sure that was Jisung?

Hey, hey, leave Ji alone. Felix snapped his teeth towards Hyunjin in warning. 

That’s it? Changbin rose to his feet. Tell us more! What did you guys do?

Chan growled. No.

Please. 

No. 

-pile. Dogpile. Dogpile!

Seungmin came out of nowhere, tackling Chan down into a mess of limbs with Jeongin, Felix and Changbin. It took a disorientating moment to get back on his feet.

Yah! You punk! 

Run, Minnie. Run! Hyunjin barked, tail wagging fast as he darted off before his mate.

With a maniacal grin and tongue lolling out, Seungmin sped away as the others gave chase. Wooyoung and San quickly joined them as they disappeared into the thicket. 

Chan kept Jeongin put, using his teeth and paws to push him back down beneath him. No. You stay. 

Alright, alright. His youngest grumbled defeatedly, lying back down on the grass. But no grooming. I don't want that anymore. 

He let out a slow huff, akin to a sigh. Okay . But his alpha still felt needy for his pack’s affection. So he lowered himself down on top of his ebony wolf. 

Jeongin growled and tried wiggling away. Ah, hyung. You're crushing me. 

Crushing you with love. 

Eww. Where's Minho hyung when I need him?

You called? 

Holy fuck! Jeongin startled as Minho walked up to them with Jisung in toe.

Chan stood up to greet them. His young alpha had his ears flat on his head and tail between his hindlegs. Scent rainy and dim. 

I brought you another one. Minho simply put, taping his paw in front of Chan for Jisung to follow. His blue wolf silently plopped down, nose pointed at Chan’s feet. Got rowdy with Mingi and decided to tear a tuft of hair off the other. 

Jisung. He growled, disappointed. 

Jisung made himself flatter against the ground, turning up the most pitiful puppy eyes to persuade his forgiveness.

Apparently, they were both at fault, but I don't know the details. I'm going to check with Seonghwa. 

Alright. 

Minho let out an exhausted sigh, and left them alone. 

Chan stared down at his third alpha. Jisung struggled to meet his gaze. 

I'm sorry. I didn't start it. Yunho hyung and Mingi hyung ganged up on me, and he pulled my tail, and, well I, I… It, it wasn’t even that bad. And I apologized to Mingi hyung already. So- Jisung whined softly, and poked his nose at Chan's leg. Sorry. 

It’s inexcusable. He’s our guest, Jisung-ah. 

Jisung covered his snout with his paw. 

He knew correcting Jisung misbehavior was his duty as the leader. But he didn’t trust himself. He didn’t trust his inner alpha to let loose and follow the deep-set urge to scruff and dominate Jisung and settle his position above him. And if he did so now, full teeth and claws out, he feared his innate aggression could overspill. 

Stay put, at my feet. You don’t get to run around for the rest of the outing. 

His third alpha kept himself grounded. The only indication he listened was the movement of his ears, which ended flat on his head once more. 

Jeongin let out a whine. Why does he get special treatment, while I get stinky-tongue-bath?

Hey, hey, hey. I don’t stink. Chan growled. 

Or is it weird now ‘cause he’s courting you?

Jisung growled loudly, raising his head to bare his teeth. Jeongin reacted immediately, snarling and scampering up to his feet. Chan caught him by the scruff and pulled him down, growling louder than the both of them combined. Grave rumbles shook through his chest and body. 

Quit it. Now. Jisung backed down, glaring at his youngest who grumbled and whined in Chan’s hold. What the hell is going on with you two?

None answered. Jisung huffed as he glanced away, while Jeongin gradually settled down. His youngest slumped back on the grass, scent toning down as Chan still hadn’t let go. Chan waited for a moment of calmness, before deciding to free his fourth alpha’s scruff. 

Jeongin huffed, resting his muzzle over his crossed paws. I was just asking, hyung. No need to be so sensitive about it. 

In truth, Chan wasn’t sure why Jisung reacted defensively either. Not every of their interactions had to have courting connotations to them. They were still pack, still Chan and Jisung. And he had always been that way with his pack. If he ever scruffed them, he’d also scent and groom them to gently reinforce his dominance. 

However, he wondered if Jisung felt differently. If Chan knowing about his affections made the younger wolf feel self-conscious and shy. Jisung had said he didn’t want him knowing in fear of Chan treating him differently, of him becoming too much, too caring, too sympathetic. If he was to remain unbiased, then Jeongin was right. 

It's not weird. He communicated, gaining Jisung’s attention back. He leaned down to lick Jeongin’s head again. I'm just busy with you now. And, unlike yourself, Jisung actually listens to me. 

Jeongin huffed and whined in protest, which only invigorated Chan’s alpha to double his efforts. Deep growls rumbled through his chest, telling his youngest to remain still for him to groom. Jisung’s hazel eyes lightened up, entertained as he watched them. 

Hyuuung! Jeongin tried to cover himself with his forelegs. His labdanum scent sappy and annoyed.

Jisung let out a toothy huff, laughing at his fourth alpha’s grumpiness. He shared an amused look with his third, and without warning he surged forwards to lick across Jisung’s head. Jisung let out a surprised growl at first, but quickly calmed down to let Chan groom and scent him. His blue wolf kept silent. His scent muted down into a morning dew, signaling he felt calm as Chan lathered his imposing vetiver-smoke into his hair.

It wasn't weird at all. They were still pack. They could still interact this way as long as he kept his teeth away. 

For the rest of the outing he stayed standing over Jeongin, watching over his grounded alphas as the wolves enjoyed their first spring run chasing tails and playing about.

By the evening, the three of them were back in the leader’s room while the packs were away, busy celebrating the first day of Spring and going out on dates. 

Now that they were here, secluded in their room, Chan felt more nervous about it all. Minho sat at the head of the bed, watching silently as Chan’s anxiety transferred to him. His mate pulled on their bond, softly, encouragingly, nodding for him to start.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Chan asked as he sat on the end of the bed. 

Jisung did a little shuffle and then plopped down beside him. “It’s not like you haven’t scruffed me before,” he shrugged. 

“This is different, Sungie.”

“I know, hyung.”

“I’m going to be mean about it,” he dryly admitted.

“It’s okay. Minho hyung is mean to me too.”

His mate let out a betrayed scoff. Jisung smiled, sticking his tongue at him. It all brought a laugh to Chan, finally breaking the tension from his chest. Jisung smiled at him with so much trust and confidence that he felt thankful for how well he was putting up with him –how brave he was being for him.

He couldn’t mess this up. 

“Come on, hyung. We’ve got to give this a try,” his young alpha reassured, placing a hand on his knee. “I’m not scared of you.”

“You should be.”

“Well, I’m not.”

Chan let out another weighted breath. “Come here,” he ordered, opening his arms. Jisung scooted closer to be hugged. “Thank you for agreeing to do this for me. If I get too much or you feel uncomfortable about anything, tell me to stop. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“And Sungie,” he gripped his young alpha’s nape, holding firm enough to denote gravitas, “don’t fight me. Don't make this harder for either of us.” 

Despite his words, Jisung’s posture was already tense and alert from the tight hold. As an alpha, it was built in his nature to fight back, even if Chan ultimately won every time as his leader. 

“I’ll try,” Jisung promised. 

“Alright. Lay down on your belly.” 

Jisung paused for a fraction, his scent dipping with hesitance. But he did as told, lowering himself flat on the middle of the bed. 

He gave Minho a warning gaze, “You can’t interfere.” Minho bit his lip and nodded tersely. “I’m serious, Min.”

“Okay,” his mate spoke softly, without any fight to it. He scooted off the side of the bed, giving them the space they needed.

Chan took deep, controlled breaths as he let himself follow his instincts. He scooted closer to Jisung, looking down at his lying figure. Silky blue locks, wide shoulders filling out his shirt, and his long neck with plenty of skin to bite. His young alpha's petrichor scent may be dimmed, keeping himself smelling innocuous, but it wasn’t enough to deter Chan’s alpha. 

The young alpha wasn’t as innocent as he posed to be. 

A spark of anger rippled through his body, transforming into deep growls that shook his ribs. The room brightened, his eyes stinging as he was caught mid-shift. Chan’s teeth elongated and sharpened. Fingers itching with his claws out. His inner alpha’s presence thrummed right beneath the surface of his heated skin. 

Jisung, peeking at him from below, growled back with wariness in his tone. He was tightly gripping the bedding to force himself still. But the apprehension was clear in his dark gaze and stormy scent. Jisung’s alpha had been called forward to safeguard him from a stronger alpha. 

His defiance irked Chan. But before he made a move towards Jisung, Minho harshly pulled on their bond. His mate shook his head with a worried gaze, tacitly asking him to tone it down. It took several long breaths to damper his alpha’s hostility. He waited until his claws shrunk back and his teeth lost their canine sharpness. 

Once more in control of himself, he gripped Jisung’s nape, scruffing him with the sharp dig of his fingers. Jisung startled at the suddenness and snarled. He pushed back against Chan’s hold, lifting his head to bare his teeth at his leader. Rage simmered in his lungs. Chan grabbed Jisung by his face and pressed him down on the bed. He loomed over his young alpha’s head, snarling as his scent turned darker.

“Don’t fight me,” he growled as Jisung tried to move against the hand on his face. “If you want him, don’t fight me for him.”

He watched the battle waver in Jisung’s gaze. His young alpha closed his eyes, his growls quietening down with each strained breath. His white-knuckled hold relaxed as he forced himself to calm down and submit. 

But it wasn’t enough.

Chan moved quickly and sat on the younger’s lower back. With a firm hold keeping Jisung’s head down, he bit into his nape. Jisung let out a displeased grunt, scent storming as he dug his nails into the bedding. Chan growled loud and gravely, feeling his rumbles vibrate into Jisung’s skin. Jisung stayed still, overpowered by Chan’s strong grip. He bore through the dull pain as he bit into his neck, again and again until his young alpha’s scent dwindled into the aroma of wet pebbles. 

Chan kept his jaw clamped with a final bite, teeth digging into the meat of his nape. Deep growls rolled out with every labored breath. Jisung let out a pitiful whine, soft and exhausted. But Chan chomped down once more, for good measure, earning another whine from his young alpha. It took Minho pulling on their bond, asking for Chan to ease up, for him to let go. 

Jisung’s nape was littered with indents of his teeth. Small droplets of blood colored where his canines broke through. No wound was too deep to not seal in seconds. Yet Chan licked and soothed the bites, ridding away the damage he had done.

He got off and sat beside Jisung. Looking down at him, his demeanor was completely lax, scent muted. He worried he took it too far. Minho looked as tense as he felt, hugging himself as if he was physically holding himself back from intervening. 

“Show me your belly,” he ordered, hoping his young alpha would listen.

Jisung slowly turned around, as if it took great effort to move. Chan brushed his blue locks out of his face. His eyes were slightly glazed over, but his gaze focused on Chan -present and not in submissive headspace. 

“Good,” Chan breathed out in relief. “Sit up.”

His young alpha followed. His obedience stirred something in his gut, his inner alpha ecstatic. He held onto Jisung’s jaw as he scented him. Roughly, in a physical and pheromonal dominant display, until his young alpha was doused in his strong, smoky scent. 

He took a moment to check on him. Hooded eyes hazed, scent drunk, but still not in headspace. Good. 

But then he took notice of the dark flush on his face. His deep breaths. The pounding of Jisung’s pulse against his fingers. He’d seen Jisung flustered before –being the cause of it even. Before, he always believed Jisung just felt embarrassed, much like how Seungmin would whenever he scented his younger wolves. Now he noticed the difference in Jisung’s shyness. He felt the heat from his young alpha’s face from how close he held him. However, his scent remained muted, timid, with no indication of Jisung’s attraction towards him. 

Was that how he managed to hide from Chan all these years? Controlling his scent to the point Chan could barely smell him, much less after imbuing his stronger odor on the younger’s skin.

“Look at me.”

His gaze was alert, pupils dilated and so impossibly round. He looked cute with his dark hazels and rosy cheeks. He noticed his eyebrows, straight and nice looking. The lines of his small nose and curves of his lips. Chan knew he was handsome, but it was the first time he truly observed him this way.

“You okay?” 

Jisung dropped his gaze and nodded. 

“Speak.”

“Yes.”

His voice was deep and husky –so unlike anything Minho ever sounded. 

His mate still watched them with silent apprehension. He needed to include his mate somehow. Get it through his inner alpha’s thick skull that Minho and Jisung belonged together with him. He called his mate and Minho hesitantly crawled to them. His attention flickered between them, urgent to check on Jisung’s well-being. 

A growl rippled through him, born from a possessive compulsion to have his mate’s undivided attention. Minho’s gaze landed on him, questioning him for it.

“Just-” he rested his hand on the side of Minho’s neck, “look at me.”

The edges of Minho’s gaze softened. His beautiful chestnut eyes warmed up to him. A teasing glint sparkled inside them, as if he too sensed the hot flame of selfish greed lapping in Chan’s gut. Minho held onto his wrist to nuzzle against the palm of his hand, pressing his mouth there. 

Chan pulled him in to nuzzle their faces together. He rubbed his gland under his mate’s jaw, down his neck, thoroughly scenting him. His scent remained strong, dark and smoky, with a hint of musk that only Minho could draw out of his alpha. He marked his mate, his territory, just as intensely as he scented Jisung –more.  

Minho’s soft skin and mouth watering scent opened a hunger inside of him. He pressed his teeth into the surrounding skin of his gland, quelling the ache of his jaw and inhaling the sweetness of his mate’s scent. Minho relaxed, letting out a hot breath as he marked up the stretch of his shoulder to the column of his neck. His mate whined as he sucked hard and nipped him. He teetered back and Chan fell down with him, growling as they got separated. 

“Chan-” Minho pinched his side, “calm down.” 

Easing up, Chan hovered over his mate, one hand still resting on the side of his red-bitten neck. Minho was flushed all over, his scent wild with different emotions. But most of all, he was shy. Chan got carried away marking his skin and leaving his scent on his mate. He didn’t consider that Minho wasn’t ready to show such a vulnerable side of himself, as this was an act far more intimate than any other they’ve displayed in front of Jisung. 

“I’m sorry.”

But Minho shook his head -his eyes more confident. Minho cupped his face and guided him into a deep, reassuring kiss. His chest bloomed with warmth, their bond singing between them. Minho broke off with a dopey smile, warm and comforting. 

Jisung hadn’t moved from where he sat beside them. He was zoned out, gaze trained on Minho’s neck. 

No. No. No. 

His inner alpha stirred again and Chan had to push it down. No, he was going to fix this. 

“Jisung, come here.” 

Jisung immediately snapped out of his daze, eyes wide and surprised by the command. He crawled closer, head lowered to appear smaller and harmless. He went down easy when Chan pushed him, making him lay beside his mate. Now, having both together beneath him and smelling like him, should sway his instincts. As mate’s, Minho shared his scent. It was most prominent in the mating season, especially after they reinforced their bond. But the rest of the year, marking and scenting was the way to signal his claim and their bond. Scenting Jisung the way he’d scent Minho should signal that they both were part of his intimate circle –his mate and his mate’s lover.

Minho turned his head to share a happy look with Jisung. His eyes shined with such love and confidence, that Chan believed them. But when Minho poked his nose to Jisung’s temple, Chan felt irked. It wasn’t clicking. Something was missing. 

Jisung reached for his mate’s face, hand sliding up Minho’s neck to cup his jaw. 

Chan cracked. 

An angered growl ripped through him, rattling his teeth together. He forcefully grabbed Jisung’s outstretched arm, claws breaking into his skin as he pulled him away. Jisung’s pained cry did little to stop him. Minho lunged to hug Jisung, blocking him from Chan. 

“Let go!” Minho growled, sharply tugging his heartstrings.

Chan snarled at his mate’s challenge.

“No. Don’t hurt him. He’s mine.” 

His mate choosing another alpha over him hurt. Their bond burned as his ego recoiled at the betrayal.

“Fuck this,” he growled, turning away. 

“No, no, don’t fight,” Jisung urgently said, shuffling after him. “Hyung, please.”

“This isn’t working,” Chan huffed out, frustrated beyond belief with himself.

Jisung caught his forearm. Chan snarled, baring his teeth at his young alpha. But Jisung curled down and kissed his wrist. Chan fell stunned, perplexed at the soft feeling on his tattooed skin. His anger plummeted from the unexpected whiplash of Jisung’s tenderness.

Jisung looked up at him with a kind of desperation that pulled at his heart, pleading with his leader. 

“Please. Hyung, I, I-” He pulled Chan’s hand to his chest. Palm flat over his erratic heartbeat. “I’m not just your pack, remember? I’m…I’m more.”

Chan couldn’t breathe. 

The bond. He was talking about his bond. They weren’t connected; could never be mates. But Jisung was already half-way bonded to him.

That knowledge shifted his alpha’s perspective. He still growled for Jisung’s obedience as he pushed his young alpha down, displaying his dominance as he stayed over him. In a power drunk daze, he pulled the strings of Jisung’s shirt collar loose, moving the fabric away to expose his tattooed skin. The cloud swirls inked into his chest appeared darker with how flushed he was. But nestled among the intricate linework were Chan’s claws on his left pectoral. Their pack mark – his mark.  

He would never forget that day. One by one, they all asked him to sink his claws into their skin and mark them forever. Hypnotized by it, he matched his fingers to each tatted claw. Possessive in nature, he wondered where Jisung’s bond resided as he dug his fingertips into his chest. Jisung made a soft sound at the pressure, staying still and pliant despite the rapid beating of his heart.

Jisung might be his mate’s lover, but he was also half-way bonded to him. Jisung’s wolf, another alpha, already chose him to be the one to set his claim. Almost as if Jisung belonged to him.  

That Jisung, a young and strong alpha, was his to have. 

This enticed his inner alpha, making something dark brew inside. Mine, his greedy alpha deeply growled. 

With his other hand on Jisung’s neck, his young alpha leaned his head in submission. Blown eyes hooded and scent gland fully exposed, as vulnerable as a wolf could be. Squeezing the sides of his neck for a few seconds, Jisung remained relaxed, fully trusting his life in his hand. Chan breathed out a satisfied rumble. He leaned down to nose at his gland. But Jisung’s control was strong, scent still dimmed into wet pebbles. 

The young alpha was still hiding. 

With a low grating growl, he dug his nails into Jisung’s neck -a mock bite, a warning. “Don’t hide.” 

Jisung whined, scent more akin to light drizzle. He was masking. This time Chan firmly bit his shoulder, careful to stay away from his sensitive gland. 

“Don’t hide from me.” 

His young alpha let out a strained breath, emitting a sound caught in between a whine and a growl. His heart stuttered and hammered harder against Chan’s palm. His scent brightened into a breath of fresh air by a roaring river. And then it changed into something warm, earthy, musky, with an inexplicable, crisp sweetness. 

There. 

There was Jisung’s alpha, displaying such a complex amalgamation of aromas. Chan’s inner alpha didn’t despise the scent, but it wasn't enticed by it either. Chan stuck his nose to his gland, picking up the hints and tones of his scent. A sweet, citrusy note stood out from the musk. Yuzu. 

Jisung’s chest rumbled with every labored breath. Chan pushed up to loom over him. His young alpha had a determined look in his eyes. Sharp, deep, alluring. His growling grew louder, a rumble that was challenging Chan. But not to a fight –no. This was different. This was Jisung’s alpha lurking right beneath the surface of his control, calling out to Chan’s inner wolf. 

“Hyung, you know,” he rasped out, gripping onto Chan’s left wrist. “You know.”

“Sungie-”

“Come on.” Jisung pushed Chan’s fingers on his neck, urging him to squeeze again. “Make it count.” 

Chan swallowed hard as he realized he was asking to be marked. He held Jisung by his jaw, keeping his head back to arch his neck. But he couldn’t claim him. Not yet, not like this and risk putting him in headspace. Instead, he avoided his gland completely and bit down on the side of his neck, hard enough to show intent without breaking his skin. He growled louder, drowning his young alpha out until he was completely subdued. Displaying, once again, his superior rank over the younger. However, the musk in Jisung’s scent grew stronger, contrary to his subjugated state. 

Chan’s gut stirred, his wolf confounded at the younger’s reaction. 

He rose to his knees, freeing his young alpha from his grip. His heart fell at the sight of unshed tears in Jisung’s eyes. Too much. He had pushed him too far.

He touched Jisung’s cheek, but he turned his head to the side, avoiding his gaze. A single tear rolled down the perpetual blush of his cheek. Chan quickly thumbed it away. 

Chan’s alpha felt settled, having overpowered and forced Jisung to reveal his inner alpha to him, under him. To make him admit his feelings and show that he belonged to Chan. That Jisung’s wolf chose him and wanted to be claimed by him. But the guilt encroached his mind. How unfair he’d been, to push Jisung to his limits, only for him to still not reciprocate. 

“Sungie, look at me.” Jisung took in a sharp breath before turning to face him. His eyes no longer had that sharpness to them, now all soft and round. “I’m sorry, I’m not there yet.”

“Will you ever be?” Chan froze, taken aback. Jisung cringed and covered his face, “Don’t answer that.”

Chan let out a measured breath to dispel the shock. He helped him sit up and pulled him into a comforting hug. Despiste Chan’s strong scent, Jisung buried his nose into the juncture of his neck, inhaling deeply and relaxing in his arms. Minho was observing them. He had made himself small, sitting on his pillow at the head of the bed to give them space. He appeared more at ease, but Chan couldn’t tell what he was feeling. He was shut off. 

He focused his attention back on Jisung, turning his arm over to inspect his healed wounds. “I’m sorry I… Are you alright?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

“I’m fine. Promise,” Jisung whispered. “Did it work?” 

Chan threaded his fingers into Jisung’s blue locks, fixing his hair as he took stock of his nature’s state. “It helped, a lot. But I think I need to keep scenting you until it clicks. I don’t think I’ll push you this much again. I just need my scent on you.”

Jisung’s deep sigh tickled his neck, “Okay.” 

He slid his hand down to his exposed chest, shirt disheveled. His heartbeat still ran fast. “Sungie, are you really okay? Is, umm. Are you hurtin-”

“Please, don’t.”

“Sung-ah-”

“Hyung, please.” Jisung nudged him with his forehead. “Don’t think about it. Just…just don’t.”

Chan swallowed down his worry and settled with holding him tighter. Jisung didn’t want Chan  worrying about his bond and treating him differently. But how could he not after the emotional strain he put him through? This wasn’t fair, for either of them. 

A warm pull attempted to assuage his concern. Minho wore a mask, keeping his own emotions hidden as he comforted Chan through their bond. His mate was exceptional at making his emotions less of a burden in order to take care of everyone else. 

“Sungie, I need to try one more thing. I need to add Minho and have him bite you a bit.”

Jisung froze for a split moment. “Okay. Can you hold my neck?”

Chan draped his hand over his nape, digging his fingers into the sides, “This okay?”

“Yeah,” he sighed out, completely relaxed as he kept his forehead on Chan’s shoulder. “I’m okay.”

When Chan called for him, Minho appeared surprised. They were all worried about how he would react again. But they need to do this. He needed to get over himself, and tame his wolf to accept them all together. 

Chan presented his left arm as Minho kneeled behind Jisung. His mate took a moment to ponder over his emotions before tapping on the upturn smile on Chan’s inner elbow. Good. He was good. They were good. 

“You sure?”

Minho nodded, leaning closer. “I’m sorry, I got scared,” he whispered shyly.  

Chan shook his head, knowing he had given his mate all the reason to fear for Jisung’s safety. The betrayal he felt from it was born out of selfishness. That wasn’t the wolf he wanted to be. Instead, with his heart in his throat, he pulled Minho in to kiss his forehead, whispering an apology. Minho rubbed his cheek against his face, seeking his lips before they parted.

Then Chan pulled Jisung’s shirt off his shoulder. “Bite him.”

Minho took his sweet time. He nosed Jisung’s hair. Then down, nuzzling Chan’s hand on the younger’s neck. He ghosted his lips against Jisung’s half-exposed scent gland, making him shiver. Chan set his jaw tight, focusing on his mate, watching as Minho bit Jisung’s shoulder –hard. His mate bit him harder than Chan did, more purposeful, claiming the young alpha without sinking his teeth into his gland. Jisung tensed, letting out a grunt as Chan held him through it. Minho bit again, for reassurance. Once satisfied, his mate ran his tongue over the pierced skin, soothing the pain and sealing his mark. Chan fell fixated on Minho's pretty features; the length of his lashes, his pointy nose, pouty lips, and his pink tongue.

His inner alpha didn’t stir –didn’t anger. His wolf felt tranquil, knowing the young alpha in his arms would always yield to him. His position over the younger felt set in stone. And now that Minho set his claim under his watch, it defined a place for Jisung inside their relationship. Jisung, his young alpha, was Minho’s second partner. And Jisung was his, just like Minho was his .

Minho’s lips twisted in a knowing grin. His dark, perceptive gaze read his thoughts. “He’s mine too, Channie. You have to share.”

Chan chuckled, the remnants of lingering tension flitting away. “I know.”

“Our Sungie,” Minho declared. 

“Ours.”

“You guys are so possessive, “ Jisung muttered.

Minho laughed, gleefully so, and suddenly all their troubles seemed to vanish away. He gripped onto Chan’s sides to press himself closer, hugging them tighter. Then he nipped Jisung’s shoulder, causing the younger to flinch. “ You better get used to it.”

They made Jisung stay the night. 

Chan woke up to Minho’s mumbling. His mate was fast asleep, mouth in a pout as he spoke in his dreams. He’d grown used to Minho’s sporadic sleep talk, becoming few and far between with the passing years. It still amused him greatly, but he also worried his dreams would morph into nightmares. Minho felt calm through their bond, so Chan rested his arm across his mate’s chest to lay his hand over his heart. He snuggled against Minho’s side, sticking his nose close to his neck while he kept track of his heartbeat. 

It was too early in the dawn to wake the packs up. Although he considered having a morning hunt, since food disappeared at such an alarming rate with the many mouths to feed. Or maybe he should call for a fasting day, to give their resources time to heal from their extensive consumption. However they definitely needed to hunt by Tuesday, so they’d have food for the rest of the week.  

Chan went through his mental planning, remembering what needs had greater priority. He repeated the weekly mantra of dates to not forget his impending schedule. He tried, his honest best, to remember every promise he made to his pack. Changbin was itching for a wrestling session. They should include Jeongin as well, help train their youngest alpha to be less reactive and stop causing fights. Felix needed more attention and quality time. Berry picking could be a good idea, so then his young omega would have ingredients to bake or confecture sweets with. Hyunjin wanted to revise the blueprint for the cabin with him. They needed to settle the measurements for the outdoor kitchen stove that will connect to the opening of the underground ondol. Then figure the dimensions for the chimney. Chan still pondered if an additional indoor burning stove would be beneficial for when the winter got too harsh to go outside to cook. And what had Seungmin asked of him last Thursday?

Minho’s loud growl alarmed him. His heartbeat ran faster, but there was no panic. 

“Don’touch… My eg’roll…”

Chan bit his lip to keep his chortle in and dropped a kiss on his mate’s shoulder. Minho complained, as if he knew what he’d done.

“No,” he loudly muttered. 

A hand slapped onto his arm, gripping hard as Jisung let out a sleepy warning growl from Minho’s other side. Chan stayed still, shocked at first but then curious. Jisung stirred, loudly sniffing the air to figure out what was troubling Minho. It was endearing to see that, even through his slumberous brain, Jisung was alert enough to protect his mate from any intruder. It felt reassuring to entrust his mate to an alpha so capable -in spite of having his arm in a vice grip. When Minho mumbled something intelligible again, Jisung understood what was happening. He relaxed, slumping his face back down on the pillow.

He kept holding his arm, rubbing formless circles with his thumb, as if he wanted to soothe Minho in his sleep. Chan felt trapped on what to do. He didn’t want to disturb either of them and risk waking them up. But letting Jisung caress him while the younger was unaware felt deceiving. However, if he stayed still, Jisung would eventually fall asleep.

“Wa’der’da shoes.”

Chan smiled languidly at the nonsense his mate spewed. 

“Shh. Sleep, hyungie,” Jisung shushed, voice deep and breathy.

Minho let out a displeased huff, almost as if he was arguing. 

“Shh.” Jisung rubbed his hand up and down Chan’s arm. “It’s time to sleep.”

Miraculously, Minho relaxed. Chan felt the way Minho’s heartbeat gradually slowed and his breathing evened out, his consciousness gone into dreamland. 

It was both impressive and puzzling how easily Jisung got his mate to settle back to sleep. But instead of working his mind over it, his attention was elsewhere. He felt hyper-aware of Jisung's hand on him, of the heat seeping into the stretch of skin he touched. The peaceful rest from Minho’s heart dragged him down with him. His tired mind focused on the warmth in his heart and the soothing touch on his skin, until he drifted back to sleep.  

Yeah, he could get used to this. 

Despite catching a few more hours of sleep, Chan rose first. He was out in the clearing before any other wolf. He enjoyed the solitude of the blue morning without ever feeling lonely. The early birds chirped and the crepuscular owls hooted, watching him workout before the sunrise. 

He took pride in his discipline, in the body he’s built over the years. His strength, agility, power and endurance were all imperative to protect his pack. For them he would train to be their strongest fighter, their protector. 

When Chan returned to his room, freshly washed and in search of new clothes, Minho and Jisung were cuddling. They were whispering, sleep still clinging to their eyes. Chan toned his scent down, trying to remain imperceptible and letting them keep their intimate bubble undisturbed. He moved quietly, picking out his clothes from the wooden chest to wear. 

Jisung ducked and hid his face between Minho’s shoulder and the pillow. He whispered something, making Minho laugh out loud and tickle his side, teasing him.

Curious, Chan walked up to their bed as he slipped on a loose shirt. He didn’t expect his presence to spur Jisung into shying away from Minho. But his mate kept a strong hold on their young alpha. However, Minho shared Jisung’s uncertain look. With a light pull through their bond, Chan reassured his mate, letting him know he was unbothered from seeing them together. 

He kneeled on their bed. “What were you dreaming about last night, love?”

“Huh? I don’t remember.”

“Are you craving egg rolls?” he teased. 

Minho narrowed his eyes, brows and lips twisting in a cute pout, “Did I…”

For the Moon, his mate was so freaking adorable. He chuckled heartily, and quickly dived in to peck his lips. “Yes.”

His mate cringed. “Did I say something embarrassing?”

“Never.”

“Lies.”

Chan smiled as he kissed him, feeling so much affection for his grumpy mate that he shared his surge of emotions. Minho opened up easily, mouth pliant and giving with a smooth familiarity that filled his heart. But then Minho tapped his side, asking for reprieve. 

He drank in the sight of his flustered mate, red coloring up his ears and down his neck. Adorable.  

Jisung wasn’t any better, blushed at the cheeks. His scent was warm, musky, giving away just how much the sight of them together affected him. His young alpha hid his face into the pillow, letting out an embarrassed whine. 

“Good morning, Sungie,” he chuckled. 

Jisung screamed something unintelligible into the pillow. His dramatic antics bubbled laughter out of Chan and Minho. Finally, Chan felt light and at ease.

He plopped down, balancing his weight on top of them. 

“Yah, Chan-ah, you’re too heavy,” Minho wheezed out, bearing most of his weight.  

“Hyung, my tummy.”

He ignored their protest, hugging them down. “I need to scent you both.” 

“Okay.”

“After you wash up.”

“Hey! I don’t smell,” Jisung complained. 

Chan laughed, getting up and letting them breathe easy again.  

“I don't!”

-///-

Jisung stepped out of his hyung’s room, ambulating in search of Seungmin. His hyungs had plans together that Sunday, and he had just the project in mind to entertain his time. He needed to do something, to keep his head busy and not overthink every little detail of last night. Not about how he bared his heart to Chan; not about how he finally gave his inner wolf free rein to reveal himself and show his true desires to his leader; not about his damned bond, using it as an excuse to sway Chan’s heart into accepting him. 

But he was desperate. He couldn’t lose Minho. 

Now that his hyungs were giving him a chance, after years of suppressing his wants –his love– he couldn't give up so readily. Wasn’t that what Felix told him to do? To stop hiding and do something to make Chan fall in love with him? 

Well, something he certainly did. 

And Chan, the alpha who had his heart in a chokehold –who held his neck in a chokehold and he got turned on by it, fuck– still didn’t reciprocate. Not that Jisung was expecting him to, they’ve only gone on a single date, where Jisung spewed facts about bugs – fucking bugs. 

Oh, how bittersweet it was for his hyung to hold him so tenderly after rejecting him. 

Stop fucking thinking about it.

Right. Seungmin. He needed to find Seungmin. He also had asked Felix for help, but he wasn’t sure when he’d be free, since Felix was supposed to be on a date with Changbin.

Ew…

He found the beta at the crops where the air smelled of fresh, minty perilla. He was weeding the bed of the leafy plants with Jongho's help. 

“Morning guys. Seungmin-ah, you got a minute?” 

“Hi,” he greeted as he stood up. “Sure. What-” Seungmin scrunched his nose, smelling the air loudly as he got closer. The beta frowned at him, “What did you do?”

“What?”

“You better not have named me, ‘cause I haven't done shit. I already got my ass in trouble because of the transfusion kit.”

Jisung narrowed his eyes, annoyed, “I didn't get punished, dude.” 

“Then why do you stink of Chan hyung?”

Jisung froze, feeling a slight dread as both Seungmin and Jongho scrutinized him. Chan wanted to avoid causing this type of confusion, but social signals didn't change over night. As a pack, they were used to knowing that whenever someone smelled strongly of Chan's smoky vetiver –the kind that screamed lead alpha– then they had been scruffed. If they smelled more of a warm sandalwood, then they were comforted. Anything closer to a homely campfire meant platonic scenting for pack bonding. 

Jisung knew he smelled strongly, not homely, not warmly, but something closer to the domineering side of Chan's alpha. The scent that claimed his territory and possessions even if he hadn't marked Jising in that way. If anything, he smelled like he’d been forced to submit under his lead alpha. 

Seungmin’s russet eyes gave him a once over, as if he could read his dirty little secrets. “Oh…” The beta smirked. 

“Shut it,” he hastily warned, face turning hot. Glancing back at Jongho who still appeared confused and oblivious. “It’s nothing.” 

But Seungmin kept smiling that annoying, smug, know-it-all grin of his. “Okay, it’s nothing ,” he said with a playful tone, “What do you want then?” 

Jisung huffed out the annoyance through his nose -oh, how he knew the beta was going to give him shit about this once he got the chance. 

“How’d you make the paint pigments for Hyunjin hyung? The powdery ones.” 

“Depends on the color.”

I’ll throttle him, I swear, I - “Red.”

“Okay, you can use berries or flower petals for red. Take your pick.” He hummed expectantly, crossing his arms. 

“Okay, well flowers, I guess.”

“Predictable,” Seungmin snorted, eyebrows raised in a taunt. Jisung rolled his eyes and flipped him off. Jongho made himself scarce, moving further down the row of perilla. “You have to collect a bunch of flowers, boil the petals in water with some mordant until they turn to pulp. You'll have to test which works better for what you want, but I find that a bit of lemon juice and oak bark does the trick for red.” 

“Isn’t that too acidic?”

“Yeah, but it works,” Seungmin replied with a nonchalant shrug. “After that you strain the liquid. Here it gets tricky because you’ll need a second mordant, you can either use wood ash or red soil with nahcolite to bind the pigments.”

“Nahcolite after lemon? Seriously?” 

“Then don’t use a lemon.”

“Yah, be helpful.”

“I am. You have to neutralize it.”

Jisung sighed. “And wood ash? Why not just lye?”

“I find that using lye water doesn’t yield enough powder. If you leave it with wood ash for a couple of hours, then you’ll get a good amount.” Seungmin cocked his hip to the side, “The other option that always works is adding some finely ground alunite and nahcolite in a two to one ratio. You yield as much pigment as alunite you put in it and it’s faster, the reaction takes minutes.”

“Alunite? We have that?”

“I do.” Seungmin gave him a cheeky smile. “Anyway, it does take some trial and error to get the color and pigment yield right. Iron makes the color darker, while lemon makes it brighter.” 

“Okay, I guess I got some experimenting to do.” Jisung scratched his head, “Is that all? How do I dry it?”

“You can filter the pigment from the liquid with hanji paper or you can also just spread it out on a sheet of birch and let it dry.”

“Hmm, okay. Thanks. Umm, how many flowers do I need?” 

“Depends on how much you wanna make.” 

Smartass…

“I don’t know,”  he muttered. “Do you have some pigment left I could use to get an idea of how much I’d need to make?”

“Sure, there are vials on our shelf. On the middle one to the left, where Jinnie’s art stuff’s at.”

“‘kay, thanks.”

“No problem. I hope your courting gift comes out well.” 

“Yah! Who said anything about a courting gift?” Jisung harshly whispered, scandalized. 

Seungmin cackled wickedly, “You’re so obvious, Jisung.” 

The beta sauntered away before Jisung could get his hands on him. But Jisung convinced himself to let it go. It was better not to fight Seungmin anyway, not when he needed access to his room and materials. 

And so he went back inside the cave, quickly making his way to the betas’ room and ducking under Yunho’s outstretched high-five.

Seriously, why does that keep happening?

The room was empty. The betas had this storage cabinet with upper-shelves placed against the opposite wall from their bed. They needed the extra storage, as they both had accumulated so many things over the years -maybe Jisung needed more storage soon, so he’d have less stuff on the ground and cavern nooks of his room. 

The middle shelf had an assortment of art supplies and projects ranging from work-in-progress, to half-finished, and to fully-completed. There were stacks of bark sheets, pressed hanji paper, pressed mulberry paper, a wooden box filled to the brim with tools, a cup with charcoal sticks, and another cup with brushes made of deer and hare hair. He found the pigment vials in a smaller, wooden box, and browsed for a deep red powder. It could’ve been made from mulberry, or red hibiscus, he was none the wiser. 

At the other side of the box was another stack of bark sheets, all scratched with black lines of charcoal. The picture of Seungmin looking right back at him caught his attention. He knew Hyunjin was a great artist, but he had no idea how much his skill had grown. The realism of the drawing was so amazing and mind boggling, that he wondered why he never showed it to the pack before. 

Would’ve inflated his big-ass ego, that’s for sure. 

Thoughtlessly, he flipped through the sheets, finding more portraits of Seungmin. Some poses were cute, with Seungmin looking down or to the side, coy. Hyunjin made his features appear soft, the skin looked plush as a ripe peach. In other’s the main focus was Seungmin’s puppy eyes. They sparkled in a way that Jisung just knew Hyunjin’s love was reflected in the way he drew his mate. It was sickeningly sweet. 

Then the drawings turned into body parts, like anatomy sketches. A hand, an arm, the wide expanse of a back, the valleys of a chest -nipples. More nipples. Legs, long legs without feet, with feet. And then full nudes. In all of them, Seungmin’s dick and balls were drawn with the same level of realistic detail. Hyunjin’s drawings were impressive, really, but had Seungmin’s cock always been that long?  

They’ve all seen each other in different levels of nudity, snippets of genitalia and flashes buttcheeks in between shifts -a normal occurrence in their lives. But for the life of him, he absolutely could not remember Seungmin’s limp junk being that long. He wondered if it was Hyunjin’s artistic liberty, if the older beta just liked drawing his mate’s dick bigger. 

“Hey, did you find it?”

Jisung startled badly, nearly dropping the sheets from his hands. He stared at Seungmin, who’s confused frown gradually morphed into mortified shock. The lime of his scent turned strong and acrid.

Fuck!

“What are you doing?” he yelled. 

“Why the fuck do you have them just lying here?” Jisung screamed back as he scrambled to stack the drawings back.

“They weren’t-”

“Innie sleeps here!”

“He knows better than to snoop in on other people's things!” 

Seungmin tackled him and they both went down like a sack of rice. But between the two, Jisung was quicker and stronger. He managed to twist around out of Seungmin’s arms and jump up to his feet. Seungmin, the sore loser, shoved him at the knee, causing him to buckle and topple on top of the beta. Using his advantage in strength, he pulled and shoved the younger until he got him lying belly-flat on the fur carpet. Jisung sat on his back, keeping him down. 

“Argh! Get off!”

“I’m sorry! Okay? I didn’t mean to find them.”

“You don’t tell anyone,” Seungmin growled, forcefully wiggling his shoulders to buck him off. 

“I won’t, not a squeak.”

Seungmin let out an exhausted breath, giving up and lying helplessly on the fluffy floor. Seriously, the beta needed to work out more, he couldn’t even do a proper push up with some extra weight.

He poked Seungmin’s red cheek, puffed out from where his face was smooshed against the rug. But Seungmin tried chomping off his finger, like the savage he was. Jisung flattened his face with his palm, earning an annoyed grunt from the younger. His lips were puckered out like a gaping fish. 

“Honestly, they’re impressive,” he commented. 

“Ya thin’so?” Seungmin mumbled.

“Yeah. Especially your massive dick.” Seungmin growled, anger refueling his energy to try pushing Jisung off again. “Is it really that long? Like, did you go through a second puberty or something?”

The younger wolf hid his face into the fur rug, cursing Jisung out in a long and irate breath. Jisung giggled, tongue between his teeth. He sucked his index finger and stuck it into  Seungmin’s ear. 

“Ah! Stop it! You weirdo.”

“Do you think Hyunijn would draw my nude if I asked him to?” 

“What for?” he grumbled. “A courting gift for the old man?”

Jisung growled, digging his fingers into the younger’s shoulders as Seungmin hit a nerve.

“Ow, ow, ow!”

“Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you, Ji,” Felix gleefully said as he sauntered into the room, but his smile was clever, as if he knew exactly when to interrupt them from escalating into a fight. His nose twitched, “Where’d Chan hyung go?”

“Help me,” Seungmin pleaded. 

But Felix settled behind Jisung, sitting on the beta’s butt. Seungmin grunted and complained, yet Felix ignored him as he wrapped his arms around Jisung’s waist for a back hug. 

“Woah, Channie hyung did a number on you,” he commented as he took a whiff of Jisung’s neck. 

Self-conscious about it, he covered the side of his neck where Chan had focused and bit –bit him almost like a mark. He still couldn’t get over how that made his heart flutter and bond vibrate. 

“Is it that bad?” he asked. 

“You’re crushing me,” Seungmin whined. 

“Kinda. Did you get in trouble?” 

“Uh, no…”

“Oh?” Felix giggled, hugging him tighter, “Is he claiming you?”

“Get off,” Seungmin said.

“Um, not really.”

“No? Then what?”

“Get! Off!” 

They quickly scrambled off Seungmin’s back. The beta rolled onto his back, breathing deeply and loudly. 

“You’re so dramatic,” Jisung muttered. 

Seungmin glared and kicked him in the shin. Jisung might’ve been older, but he immediately retaliated, shoving his foot into the younger’s boney hip. 

“So-” Felix stuck his face close to his, deterring their fight and obnoxiously wiggling his eyebrows, “What’s this scenting about?”

“It’s, uh…” he faltered, scratching his neck.

“It’s nothing,” Seungmin supplied, voice nasal and annoying. 

“What? How so?”

“That’s what he said to me.”

Felix pouted, looking pitifully at him with his puppy, jade eyes. It should be a crime to look that cute just to manipulate Jisung’s emotions.

However, part of him did wonder if Felix agreed that what he was doing was a step forward in winning Chan’s heart. 

“It’s, um, about Minho hyung.”

Felix made a surprised noise, while Seungmin turned his head to look at him, russet eyes wide in shock. The attention made his skin prickle, but he powered through. 

“The scenting helps Chan hyung feel more, um, comfortable.” 

“Ooh,” Felix smiled, eyes crinkling with suggestive mirth. 

“Shut up,” he preventively mumbled, pushing the omega away. 

Felix laughed, crawling back to him to wrap him in a tight embrace. Jisung glared and snapped his teeth at him in a mock bite. Felix scrunched his button nose and cutely bit back. 

Jisung sighed. “You’re so annoying.” He booped the omega’s nose. 

Felix chuckled and squeezed him tight as he snuggled his back –he had a habit of doing that, squeezing Jisung’s waist tightly because it was tiny, which was ridiculous since they were practically the same size. 

“I’m just so happy for you, Ji.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Seungmin spoke up, still starfished on the carpet –his pose looked reminiscent of one of Hyunjin’s drawings. “Since you’re dating his mate, it must be like a territorial thing.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“You’re okay with it?” Felix wondered. 

“Yeah, I have to be.” 

Seungmin and Felix shared a look. Their reaction got his shackles up, nervous about what they thought. Was his answer wrong? Did he fuck up? 

“Is it weird? Or, like, I don’t know.” He swallowed the pressure in his throat, “Actually, nevermind. Forget it. It’s fine. It’s okay.” 

“Hyung.” Seungmin propped himself on an elbow. “I know you’re in love with Minho hyung, which is, excuse me, ew.”

“Oh, grow up,” Jisung argued. “Don’t act like you didn’t have a massive crush on hyung when you got here.”

“Clearly, I was out of my mind.” 

Jisung tried to kick him, but Seungmin rolled away out of his reach. Having Felix leech on his back wasn’t helping him hit his target, which was purposeful on Felix’s part with how he tucked his chin over his shoulder to keep him still. 

“As I was saying. I think what you’re doing is brave, and I’m-” he loudly coughed- “happy for you-” he coughed again. Jisung rolled his eyes. “But, just because it's the hyungs, doesn’t mean you have to agree with everything they want.”

“I know,” he snapped. 

“Okay. Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure.”

The silence after was awkward. 

Felix pushed his nose into his cheek, giving him a little squeeze as if to silently ask if he was alright. He was, but his scent said otherwise. He hadn’t even noticed the stormy shift it took. 

“Seungmin-ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap like that.” 

Seungmin shook his head. “It’s okay. I don’t mean to chip in unwanted advice. But I…” 

For the Moon, Jisung needed to stop being such an absolute asshole and open up more to his pack. 

“What?” 

The beta huffed out, petulantly. “Is it so hard to believe that I worry about you too, hyung?”

Well, fuck…

Jisung’s mood went down. “You don’t have to be.”

“We just want what’s best for you, Ji,” Felix piped in, speaking over his shoulder, his honey-basil scent sweet and soothing. “Sure, Channie hyung and Minho hyung are great, but you should rely on us too.” Jisung frowned, confused at what he meant. “Think of it this way, the hyungs were there to help us out when we started to date. They still do whenever we need them.”

“But since you’re involved with them,” Seungmin interjected. “You can’t ask for their guidance in the same way.”

“That means you’ve got us to help you out,” Felix cheered. 

“Oh… Huh?” He took a moment to consider how sound their logic was, “I guess you’re right.” 

“Hehe, of course I am.” Felix snuggled into his neck. “Yeesh, you really smell like Chan hyung.”

“You think the others are going to think I got scruffed?” Felix pressed his lips into a flat smile, saying more without saying anything at all. “Fuck,” he sighed out, leaning his weight back into the omega.

“Jisung, I kind of want to say something, but I don’t know if you’ll be okay with it,” Seungmin said, sitting up to face them. 

Seungmin was his work buddy, his intellectual half, his partner in crime –more often than not, they got their asses in trouble doing weird shit, but they always stuck it out together. They could have conversations about anything, debate both sides of an argument, let their egos get hurt for the sake of knowledge and truth. But, truth was, Jisung hadn’t been open with him about many things –especially about himself. He trusted Seungmin, so much, that it hurt seeing this timid side of him, one not daring to speak freely with him. 

“You can tell me. I won’t do anything if I get pissed at you.” 

“Doubt it.”

“Come on.” He tried to touch his knee with the tip of his toe, but Seungmin was too far away. “Out with it.”

“Okay, well,” Seungmin puffed out a breath. “This might sound insensitive, but let's keep it factual. I know you were worried about interfering with the hyungs’ bond before. And I get trying to do the best you can to not cause a rip in their relationship. But I think you’re in an advantageous position where you owe them no further obligation.”

“Further obligation?” The wording already irked him, but he knew Seungmin needed more time to better explain himself. “Meaning what?”

“You’re not connected to them. You’re unmated. You can date them all you want, but you’re still free to walk away.”

“Seungmin,” Felix warned, tightening his hold on him, as if he was personally offended on Jisung’s behalf. “Wolves choose for life.”

That’s not how the saying goes, Jisung bitterly thought to himself. It’s: wolves mate for life. 

“Yes, yeah, I know we do. And I’m not saying you would or expecting you to leave them. Not at all,” Seungmin quickly amended. “It’s more of a theoretical thing I’ve been wondering about. Like pack dynamics. How your natures mix. What advantages or disadvantages you might have. Just…” He let out a sigh, slowing down his rapid speech, “You get the chance to experience what it's like to be in a relationship, without the anxiety of nurturing a mating bond and worrying about it breaking.”

“Minnie-” 

“The pain of a severed bond breaks a heart. As long as you’re careful during the winter, you’re immune to that.”

“Seungmin, enough,” Felix growled.

Seungmin’s eyes widened at Felix’s hostile tone. He averted his gaze, like a remorseful pup. “Sorry, I…I just want you to be careful. You don’t have to go through a bond-break again, hyung.” 

He understood what Seungmin meant. Jisung could remain safe from a broken heart as long as he took the proper precautions during the winter –they were building him a cabin, for the Moon’s sake, that’s how far his pack was willing to go to protect him. And, if he remembered correctly, Felix said Seungmin had been there when Minho’s bond broke. So, feelings aside, he could see why Seungmin had been worrying his brain about this. 

But, despite it being a reasonable opinion, it felt so wrong. Seungmin didn’t know about Jisung’s defective bond, so he couldn’t fault the younger for not taking that into consideration. No, Seungmin believed he’d suffered from a broken bond, all alone while he was away. And now he was just trying to be proactive to save him from the pain.

But that’s not how Jisung’s messed up body worked. His bond might never break, but he still ached. 

“You think it’s an advantage to never get to mate the people you love?” 

The sheer shock and guilt in Seungmin’s gaze made him regret asking. The way Seungmin looked at him, as if he was seeing Jisung for the first time, as if he was discovering something new about him, made him realize his slip. Apart from Felix and Jeongin, it was the first time he admitted he was in love with both Minho and Chan. 

“No.” Seungmin’s posture slumped, making himself small and defeated. His crisp eucalyptus scent dimmed, nearly non-existent. “No. I’m sorry for running my mouth.”

Well, now he felt even more like shit. 

“Minnie, I’m not mad, okay?”

Seungmin kept his eyes down. “Okay.”

Jisung felt heavy and murky. He wondered if maybe Hyunjin and Felix were right, that he should rely on them more. He no longer had this huge secret to hide. His hyungs knew everything about him. If he’d open up, just a little bit more, then he’d avoid his pack from misconceptions. Right?

But that would mean they’d know. And Jisung wasn’t sure if he was ready for that. 

Felix changed his perch to his other shoulder, giving him a quick squeeze. “So what did you need me for? I got some time before I’m going out with Binnie.” 

“Oh, right. I need to distract some bees.”

“You need honey?” Seungmin asked, perking up a bit. “We still have some from the yakgwas.”

“Nope. I need wax.” 

“Oh, right. The new furniture.”

“What’s that?” Felix asked, pointed to the side. 

On the floor, further to their right, was a fallen sheet with an upside-down nude of Seungmin, sitting crossed leg with his cock resting on his thigh. 

But Felix –bless his heart– had poor eyesight, and Jisung knew he couldn't see the picture well enough from where they sat. With a quick glance at Seungmin, they struck a silent agreement.

Jisung gripped Felix’s arms and he rolled them away, while Seungmin hurriedly scrambled to hide the picture from sight. Felix let out an indignant squawk mixed with a growl, and ended up choking on his own spit.

He pulled Felix along, while the omega tried regaining his breath. “Come on, we’ve got bees to buzz.” 

-///-

Minho shouldn’t be this nervous. 

He paced around the room as he waited, moving about to rid himself of the anxious energy. It made no sense to be so worked up. What transpired between the three of them two nights ago had inarguably been much more nerve wrecking and life changing. 

Jisung had agreed to let Chan scent him as much as needed. At least once daily, Chan had asked. But it happened much more frequently than that. Each time, if possible, Chan tried to scent them both to aid his nature into recognizing them together as a pair. However, he’d catch Jisung alone at times, and the young alpha would walk away with a new waft of smoky-vetiver clinging to his skin.

For the young alpha’s sake, Chan spoke with the packs to inform them that Jisung wasn’t in trouble despite how he smelled. He wasn’t being punished or scruffed, it was just something they were working on. They received a mixed range of facial expressions from the news, from puzzled to amused. Many had questions that Chan resolutely decided not to entertain. Minho might’ve said something about not sticking their noses into their private affairs, and sprinkled in some threats of bodily harm to shut them up. 

He understood the curiosity. What the three of them were doing was new and different, so it was normal to wonder about it all. It just so happened that they were exploring their dynamics too, and any answer they could provide was fickle at most. 

Chan pulled on their bond, spreading so much affection that it made his stomach churn. “Were you ever this nervous when we dated?”

Minho turned to face his mate, who was sitting on top of the wooden chest. “Worse.” 

“Really?” Chan looked pleasantly surprised. 

“Yeah.” He let out a breath, forcing his body to ignore the jittery feeling. “I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing back then.” 

His mate chuckled, emerald eyes in half-moons and dimples out. “I would’ve never guessed.”

Minho shrugged his shoulders, making his slow way to him. “Couldn’t have the handsome, overeager alpha that wanted to mate me know I wasn’t as confident as I appeared.” 

As a young, lone omega, he couldn’t let his guard down to anyone back then –not even with Chan at first. It was through time that his mate lowered his walls and earned his trust.

“Hmm,” Chan grinned, swinging his legs, “A strong, independent omega. How sexy.”

The omega rolled his eyes, making Chan giggle again. He stood in front of his mate, just shy away from his feet’s trajectory. 

“What are you so nervous about anyway?”

He looked down his left shoulder, still unused to seeing the full sleeve of ink on his arm. 

“Oh, Min-”

“Don’t.”

“He’s going to love it.” 

Minho nibbled on his lower lip, unsure of what to say. He’d been wanting to finish his tattoo for a while now, but they’ve been so busy that they only found time to do it yesterday. He kept it hidden from the young alpha, wearing long sleeves and his fur coat. But tonight he was finally going to reveal the completed tattoo, showcasing the cloud swirls that rose from the river inked into his forearm. 

Chan had done such an amazing job at making the river lines look like flowing ink wash. And he flawlessly imitated Hyunjin’s line style, making the clouds look like a replica of the ones tatted on Jisung’s collar. 

It felt like such a huge deal to carry Jisung’s symbol so boldly on his skin. But just like the young alpha had shown how committed he was to them, allowing himself to be dominated by Chan in order for the lead alpha to accept them and feel comfortable with their growing relationship, Minho believed he needed to step up his game too. He was already in deep, fully committed to this new relationship with Jisung. If Jisung was willing to walk around smelling like Chan scruffed him on the daily, then Minho could proudly display the young alpha’s scent on his skin. 

But having his symbol without being mated felt so daring, as if he had complete confidence that they would never break up. 

“I know… It’s just a lot, isn’t it?”

“Is it?” Chan softly asked, his gaze even softer. “Everyone knows that we’re in this for the long run. Having that tattoo isn’t going to make others wonder.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Confident,” Chan smiled. “I’ve got his symbol too, remember.”

Minho scoffed. “You have everyone’s scent.”

“And no one blinks an eye about it.”

Minho laughed. “So you’re saying that I should get them all to feel less self-conscious? Add honeycomb, lavender, and rockrose too?”

“Hey? What about cedar and eucalyptus?” 

He snorted, unattractively, “No way.”

His mate’s smile turned languid, eyes bright and deep with fondness. He had no idea what that knowing gaze was thinking. Chan leaned back on his wrists, showing off all the tattoos littered across his muscular arms. The lavender branch, eucalyptus leaf, and honey bee on his left arm. The cedar twig, rockrose flower, and rainy cloud on his right arm. And on his shoulders was Minho’s scent, bergamot branch on the left, dark berries on the right. 

His mate knew he was attractive, showing off the sculpt his arms and the width of his strong shoulders -but his smile wasn’t smug. No, he looked too damn endeared. 

“What?” Chan’s smile grew wider. “What?” he asked again, impatient. 

“You’re cute when you’re mean.”

Minho rolled his eyes, ears hot even if he’d heard that a million times before. 

“I’m sorry, I’m late,” Jisung loudly said as he rushed inside their room. He was carrying a basket and a bouquet. 

His hair was styled back, fastened with a shiny hairpin made from an abalone shell that Minho saw San wear once. The clothes he wore were neatly put with a leather vest to layer over it –it looked like one of Felix’s vests. His outfit was tied together with a tassel belt -that had to belong to Seungmin- cinching his tiny, tapered waist. He wore two necklaces. One long and made of leather with a handcrafted, plate pendant -Hyunjin’s. The other sat short on his neck, with an iridescent abalone shell pendant  -it also must’ve been from someone in Seonghwa’s pack. The colors did wonders to his skin, complementing his dark-blue hair. 

He looked so good. Even his doe eyes had some kohl smoking them, making his pretty hazels appear brighter. While all Minho had done was fuss about wearing one of Chan’s sleeveless shirts to show off his new ink, Jisung put way more effort into his looks. At least Chan convinced him to wear the pearl necklace. But still, he felt underdressed. 

“Umm…” Jisung tugged his shirt where it was riding up from the belt. “Is this too much? I -the guys, kinda got carried away, I don’t know. It’s, it’s…It’s too much, isn’t it?”

“You look very handsome, Sungie,” Chan said, saving him from his tied-tongue. “Minho’s just malfunctioning.”

Minho glared at his mate, feeling betrayed. 

“O-oh…” Jisung blushed, trying hard to not let his pleased smile grow too wide. “You look very handsome too. You- Oh…” Jisung blinked in surprise. “Is that…” 

He put his things down to approach him, eyes trained on his left arm. Jisung observed in silent marvel, tracing the healed lines up his shoulder and down his arm. There was something intense in his gaze, his scent warm like the sunlight. 

“You really did it?” He wondered aloud. Minho nodded, feeling his heart race with anticipation. Jisung’s heart-shaped smile widened. “It’s so beautiful, hyung. You’re crazy good,” Jisung praised Chan. 

“You like it?” Chan asked. 

“I love it.” Jisung turned his smoky eyes to him, “Do you like it?”

“Of course I do.”

Jisung smirked, “Good.” He smoothly slid his hand down to hold his. “Ready to go?”

“Yes.”

“Min.” Chan held out his black, fur coat. 

“Oh, right.” Jisung picked up the bouquet, filled with pink mountain laurels, variegated wild roses, and three big, white magnolias. “This is for you,” he offered the flowers to Chan. 

“Me?” 

His mate’s surprise made them laugh. It took him a sobering minute to accept the flowers. He slid off the chest and immediately dipped his nose in to smell them. In return, he gifted Jisung a beautifully dimpled smile. 

“Thank you.”

“What about me?” Minho teased. 

“Don’t worry, hyungie. I prepared proper food. No need to munch on flowers-” 

Minho turned around. “I’m not going.”

Jisung gripped his shirt. “I’m joking! I’m joking,” he laughed. He held onto Minho’s wrist, easily pulling him along with him. “I’ll stop, I promise.”

Chan was smiling, laughing with them. It eased Minho’s mind to feel him completely relaxed. 

“Don’t stay out too late,” Chan said, lingering at the entrance. “You don’t want a bear to sneak up on your picnic.”

“Nah, Gomi is probably still hibernating.”

“Jisung-ah.”

“We’ll be careful, hyung.”

Chan’s smile softened, but he seemed hesitant, unconsciously blocking their way out. 

“Channie?”

“I uh…”

“Do you want to scent us before we go?” Jisung asked. 

Chan visibly deflated, “Yes.”

Jisung leaned his head to the side, giving tacit permission. The gentle way Chan cradled the young alpha’s head greatly contrasted with the possessive growl and strong scent he emitted. Jisung growled back, as he always did before relaxing in Chan’s hold. 

When it was his turn to be scented by his mate, Chan chanced a kiss to his neck and cheek before letting him go. 

“Take care,” he bid them, with a warm and loving smile.

Minho didn’t let Jisung hold his hand, knowing the others were still up and around the cave. It wasn’t until they were halfway to the river that he joined their hands together. It might’ve been cliché to have a date by the river, but it unspokenly became their spot. With a blanket laid out on a flat rock, he sat down and set his coat down beside him as Jisung rummaged through the basket. 

The young alpha pulled out a bundle and kneeled before him. “I want you to have this,” he said with timid expectation.

Curious, Minho unraveled the gift, and held Jisung’s soft, burgundy, woven shawl. He immediately knew what this gift represented and was hit with a wave of nostalgia. He could clearly picture Jisung wearing his shawl as a pup. Small, emaciated, with a feisty gaze hardened with experience beyond his years. Still living in survival mode, with only this shawl to layer over his clothes. It wasn’t the same color, back then it was a dirty, overused beige. But it was just as soft. 

That’s how they met. Back at their second home, smaller, further north from the stray community they now resided with. On a late spring morning, one that still held the chilling winter cold, this scrawny pup walked into their land, looking for goods to trade or in exchange for labor. Jisung reminded Minho of his own hardships as a lone young omega. But a pup wasn’t meant to live on their own. 

Minho had been lucky in his time, encountering Namjoon’s helpful pack in his first lonesome year. Right before the dead of winter, Jin gave him the warmest hoodie Minho ever owned. It was big enough to drown in it, long enough to cover his fingers and with a high collar to protect his face. He loved his hoodie, wore it daily throughout the winters after and on the colder days of  spring and autumn. But at the sight of Jisung, Minho didn’t think twice before lending it to him. 

They had given Jisung a small job of fixing the filtering system of their river water supply -something Chan could easily repair, but feign ignorance, letting the stray pup explain and teach him how to do it. They planned on making the pup stay for a couple of days, keep him deceivingly busy, fill his belly with food, give him as much produce as he could take, and then let him continue on with his journey.

But Minho had let him wear his hoodie and Jisung nearly disappeared in it. It broke Minho’s heart. 

This doesn’t mean I’m staying -Jisung had bitingly said, reserved and guarded.

Minho paid no mind and invited him to eat with the pack instead of vanishing to eat on his own. He had been too hard-headed and independent to accept their food before, but the hunger must’ve been unbearable as the young pup finally relented. At the sound Jisung made after his first mouthful of the lead omega’s cooking, Minho knew he won the pup over. He’d make Jisung stay. 

“You don’t have to wear it,” Jisung said, still waiting, still nervous. “I just want you to have it.”

Minho smiled with his heart stuck in his throat. He couldn’t explain why he felt so emotional about it, but he understood the greater depths of exchanging equal gifts as wolves. If they had been courting to mate, then this was an equivalent of accepting a successful courtship. 

But they weren’t, they couldn’t. Instead, they could create something of their own. 

He draped the shawl over his shoulders and tried fastening it in place with the bone brooch. Jisung helped him with it, leaning so close he could feel his warmth. They were both drowned in Chan’s scent, but he could still pick out the sunshine in Jisung’s petrichor. Jisung’s smoky eyes met his. He didn’t know who moved first, but they were kissing. Soft, tender, and full of unspoken emotions and future promises. Minho felt it all through the press of their lips.

Surprisingly, Jisung broke away first, kissing Minho’s mouth one last time. 

“There’s more,” the young alpha said, cheeks rosy as he turned to the basket again. 

He placed an assortment of fruits and traditional snacks left from the holiday. The young alpha must’ve hoarded some to keep the others from eating them all. 

“Here.” Jisung offered him a small bouquet. “I do have one for you.”

Two large, white magnolias, pink astilbe and lavender, all tied together with string. Simple, delicate, in a way Minho appreciated even more. He still didn’t know what to do with gifts like these, pretty to look at, albeit serving no further use.

“Thank you,” he softly mumbled, heart melting down his throat into the mess in his chest.

“I know you’re not much of a flower guy, but do you really have to glare at it?”

“I’m not glaring and I am a flower guy. Chan made me one.”

“That’s not the same.”

“Jisung, I have flowers inked into my thighs.”

Jisung made an aborted sound, mouth half-full with fruit. “Yeah, but that’s related to your scent.”

“I don’t only have those.”

“Oh, well, I, uh, didn’t know. It’s not like I’ve studied every inch of your legs, hyungie.” He chucked a slice of pear into his mouth, “What else do you have?”

Now Minho narrowed his eyes, “Are you trying to get me to take my pants off?”

Jisung choked. “Nuh-no! Hyung, wha-at?”

Minho laughed gleefully, entertained by how quickly the younger flustered. “I’m just messing with you.”

Jisung deadpanned, coughing into his hand. “About your pants?”

“About my tattoos.”

“Aish, hyung,” he complained, swatting his hand at him without hitting. 

His silly antics filled Minho’s heart with joy. It felt so easy, so seamless, to have a good time with the young alpha. 

They ate and talked about random things, enjoying the light-heartedness of their date. When the late afternoon turned darker and the sky colored with the setting sun, Jisung asked-

“If you were a bird, which would you be?”

Minho fell stumped, mind blank for an answer. He’d never thought about such a thing before.

Jisung scratched his leg, doe eyes attentive as he waited for his answer. “Is it a stupid question?” 

Minho frowned, “No. I'm thinking.”

“What are you thinking?”

“That I wouldn't want to be a pheasant. Don't want to be fried, roasted, or made into stew.”

“Ah, hyungie, I bet you’d be tasty.”

“Shut up,” Minho cackled, shoving him by the shoulder. Jisung giggled, his pink tongue poking between his teeth. “What would you be then?”

“I asked first.”

“I'm thinking.”

Jisung leaned back on his hands, gazing at the horizon. His iridescent hair shining hues of blue, purple and orange under the sunset. “I'd be an owl.”

Minho nodded in consideration. He could kind of see why; Jisung was nocturnal, if he wasn’t forced to get up early, he’d sleep through the whole morning. And his eyes, his round, ever-curious eyes could be akin to an owl’s wise gaze. 

“Is it because of the endless questions?” Minho wondered. “Hoo?”

“Who? Me?”

“Who, you,” Minho grinned. “Hoo-hoo.” 

Jisung’s look of utter shock, annoyance and disgust had him cracking up. 

“Aish, hyung, that was horrible.” The young alpha cringed, hiding his face in his hands, “I can’t believe I’m in love with you. Give me my shawl back.”

“Too late. It’s mine.” Minho snickered, hugging the soft garment onto himself even if Jisung made no attempt to take it away. 

Instead, the young alpha gave him an exasperatedly fond look. “I know.” 

Minho felt all mushy inside. He couldn’t look away. “What bird do you think I should be?” 

“A waxwing,” Jisung instantly replied. His smile gave away how he’d already had an answer in mind. “They’re gorgeous. Their feathers have a beautiful color gradient, with black eyes. And, most importantly, they eat bramble berries.”

Mino considered it as he munched on a slice of pear. “I don't want to be a berry picker.”

“Why not? It's your scent.” Jisung hummed, smile morphing to a lopsided grin. “Dark berries, sugar and lemon. You’re a marmalade, hyungie.” 

Minho threw a cookie at his head. Jisung yelped as he ducked out of the way.

“It’s bergamot,” he corrected with an indignant scoff. “And in that case, you should be a river bird.”

“Owls can live by a river,” Jisung argued with a pout. 

“Nope. Doesn’t count.”

“Ooh, I could be a stork. Or a heron.”

Minho snorted, “More like a kingfisher, since you're short and blue.” 

“Hey! I'm not short.” Minho laughed at his animated complaint. Jisung grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “It's not like you’re that much taller than me.” 

“Changbin says my spirit animal is a Lynx,” he offhandedly said as he snatched a sticky rice cake.

“Lynx? Nah, you're more of a tiger.”

“That’s right.” Minho smiled, proud at how well Jisung understood him. He got closer and held the rice cake between his teeth, offering it to Jisung. 

Jisung’s brows twisted, leaning away. “What are you doing?” 

“Feedin’ ya,” he said around the candy. “Ya tal’bou’birbs. Dis is how dey feed.” 

Jisung stared at him for a minute until he let out an airy chuckle, giving in to Minho’s playfulness. He held onto the omega’s face, biting into the snack, lips brushing together. Jisung tried kissing him, as he was always eager to steal kisses. But the cake was too chewy, hazardous to blocking their windpipes. 

Jisung waited impatiently, like a starved man, for him to finish eating to kiss him fully. The young alpha tenderly held his face, mouths sharing the lingering sweetness of the cakes. Jisung’s thumbs brushed his cheeks, coaxing him closer and deepening their kisses in a way that made Minho’s stomach swoop and flutter. Oh, how unfair it was to love being kissed by him, to feel so much for him, and not have a bond pulling his heart towards his young lover anymore. 

He missed the feeling of having physical proof of his love for Jisung. But he did, for the Moon, he did love him. 

Later, with the stars sparkling in the moonlit night, Jisung convinced him to sit between his legs. Jisung hugged him from behind, poking his nose to Minho’s neck every so often. Minho draped his fur coat on his lap as they gazed into the night, fingers running along Jisung’s arm. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something, but I wanted to give you space,” Minho softly said, as if he feared breaking the peace and quiet between them if he spoke louder.

“What is it?”

“Were you really okay with Chan dominating you?” 

“Of course I was. I got to have a hot, sexy alpha on top of me.”

“Jisung. Stop joking.”

“I’m not,” he laughed. He tucked his chin over Minho’s shoulder, holding him firmer. “I promise I was okay with it. I wouldn’t have done it otherwise. Don’t…don’t undermine my choices, hyung.”

“That’s not what I meant, Sungie,” he tried turning to see him, but Jisung wouldn’t loosen his grip. “I meant… Were you okay? Didn’t it make your bond react?”

“Oh…”

He felt the breath of air leave the younger’s body. Minho stayed silent, holding on to Jisung’s hands as he waited for him to speak. Then Jisung nudged his nose against his cheek, rubbing their face together. 

“My bond reacts around you too,” he whispered, lips ghosting Minho’s skin. 

Minho was aware. He had felt guilty about it at first. But reciprocating Jisung’s love, holding him, touching him, kissing him, assuaged his unease. 

“It was intense, but I was okay, hyungie,” he finally admitted. Jisung intertwined their fingers together. “Having Chan hyung close does stuff, sure. Sometimes I feel like I’m three beats away from an early heart attack, I swear. But it also feels like this might be a step in the right direction. Chan hyung has always been more tactile. Maybe this is what was missing to, you know, umm, winning his heart.”

“You will,” he assured, feeling an unwavering certainty in his gut. “Someday.”

Jisung let out a short and airy chuckle. “Thanks for your confidence, hyungie.”

He finally turned around enough to face him. “I mean it.”

The young alpha looked surprised, eyes wandering his face. “How can you be so sure?”

Minho dipped closer, poking the tip of his nose to Jisung’s temple. “Because I love you. How’s he not going to fall in love with you too?”

Jisung shied away, biting his lip to keep from smiling. “I love it when you tell me that you love me.”

Minho’s heart swelled, lips upturned into a gentle smile, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Minho kissed him. Deep and full of overflowing emotions. 

As if he knew they were talking about him, Chan gently pulled on their mating bond, calling them to come back home. 

Chapter Text

Jisung was going absolutely insane. 

It was now early April, Spring blossoming into a fragrant potpourri of colors. Ten days had passed since Chan and Jisung settled their alphas, and Jisung had been scented more times in the span of it than he collectively had in a year. But the scenting wasn’t an issue. No, Jisung was majorly fine with that –secretly loved it, really; to be held by his hyung, having his warm skin brush against his own, imbuing his body with his rich, smoky vetiver. Having him so, so damn close. 

Jisung was guilty of finding the heavy scenting enjoyable, despite grappling with his feelings of remaining unclaimed. Yet he tried to not despair, to be patient. The whole point of going slow was to give Chan the chance to fall for him. Still, it was crazy how Jisung was the one courting Chan, taking him out on dates and trying to do anything to win his heart, while Chan was rubbing his glands all over Jisung’s neck and face. 

Maddening, really. 

But, no. No, no. What drove him insane the most was the shameless kissing he kept witnessing. Minho still shied away from affection every now and then, but something about Chan’s reaction last time made him continue indulging his mate in whatever physical reassurance he needed. And most of the time –if not always– it was in the form of deep, open mouth, tongue and all, kissing. 

The afterimage haunted Jisung throughout the day. He’d be helping Minho out in the kitchen and Chan would pass by, grazing his hand on Minho’s lower back, his neck, his shoulder, his arm, anywhere, and suddenly Jisung’s mind would be bombarded with flashes of them making out, holding onto each other, Chan’s hands daring to feel up his mate, while Minho’s approach remained reserved. Jisung would be busying himself with work, either with his personal toils and experiments, or with aiding in the cabin’s construction, and the sudden image of his hyung’s lip-locking would stun him into mild-paralysis. He was developing some form of maladaptive daydreaming –he had to be. 

Just now he sat on a log, the stone weight abandoned at his feet, completely forgotten mid-rep into his third set of bicep curls. He was unconsciously nibbling on his lower lip, staring transfixed at the lichen covered rock, mindless as he clearly pictured the way Chan’s strong, veiny hands traveled up Minho’s neck, his secure hold on Minho’s face as he kissed him fully, his smirk at the helpless sound Minho made.

He sat like that, with his mind stuck on repeat –stuck on that memory– and he couldn’t switch back to normal function. 

And Minho was no better. Jisung fantasized about Chan, but he got to experience the real deal with Minho –and his hyung was an absolute menace. In their moments together, Minho would tease him, leading him to delve deeper into exploring the physicality of their relationship, only to leave him hanging dry without resolve. His approach was bolder, hands more experienced, knowing exactly when and where to put pressure, juxtaposed by the feather-touch of his fingertips, slithering along Jisung’s skin to make him shiver. It was maddening how one second all his body trembled with fire, senses consumed by Minho’s sweet scent and soft lips, and then all too suddenly his hyung would break away, leaving him gasping for air and salivating with want. 

Jisung dreaded the day that Minho would stop being coy with Chan and instead would confidently show his intimacy with his mate. If they ever allowed him to be present in such moments, Jisung would not survive. It would be the end of him, his body would burn into crisp, choking on his own drool and blue balled to death.

Can one even die of blue balls?

He was brusquely shaken out of his reverie. 

“Yah! Break’s over. Those twigs won’t grow by themselves.”

Jisung glared at Changbin hovering above him. His arms were already aching from yesterday's labor. He was on milling duty: cutting up, shaving and sanding wood to the desired shape and size needed to construct the cabin. But Changbin insisted on splitting his workouts to include arm-focused days. Partly because Jisung missed his meaty arms, partly because Changbin enjoyed his suffering. 

“How many reps have you done?”

“Dunno. Forgot to count.”

Changbin sighed, heavily. “Start over then.”

“Ah, hyung,” he whined.

“You gotta put in the work to earn your muscles back. Whining helps nothing,” he lectured, sitting down beside him. 

“But hyung-” he wiggled his shoulders and slouched down, rounding his eyes as he looked up at Changbin, “my arms feel like they’re gonna fall off.”

“Don’t pout at me.” Jisung jutted his bottom lip further. “Stop it.”

“Hyung-”

“Sit up. Do two more sets.”

Prick. Jisung huffed out, pushing himself back up to sit with proper posture. “ Two more sets ,” he muttered under his breath with a poor imitation of the older alpha’s tone. 

Changbin narrowed his amber eyes. “Don’t give me that attitude. You asked for my help.”

“I know, I know.” He picked up the stone weight with his right hand. “Doesn’t mean I can’t regret it,” he tacked on with pettiness. 

A wet slap stung his sweaty nape. Jisung rushed in a breath through his teeth, rubbing the soreness away. Changbin was never good at scruffing, so he’d slap his neck instead. 

“Two sets. Full range of motion, no slacking.” He wagged his nagging finger in front of Jisung’s face. “Now.”

Jisung grumbled as he got into position and brought his elbow to rest on his thigh. He breathed in deep as he pulled the heavy weight up, keeping control of the isolated movement and battling through the burn in his arm. He managed to pull through two reps before he got distracted by Changbin smelling his hand and scrunching his nose. The older alpha side-eyed him, annoyed, as if it was Jisung’s fault his hand smelled bad.

“What?” he grunted through the eccentric portion of the movement. 

“Nothing.” He wiped the sweat off on his trousers.

“Oh, just get it out. I feel your eyes judging me,” Jisung muttered with a displeased frown. “What? Do I stink or something?”

Changbin took another whiff of his hand. “You sweat of Chan.” 

He dropped the weight, “What?”

“You just stink so much of Chan now that you even sweat like him.”

“Yeah? And what of it?” Jisung knew he was getting worked up and defensive, but his shackles were  already up, alert and hostile.

Changbin sighed, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his hands dangle between his parted thighs. “Nothing.”

Jisung appraised him, not buying the calm moss scent under the prickly cedar. He wasn’t sure what was going on in his mind. “Then don’t judge me for it.”

“For the Moon, I’m not judging you,” Changbin said with exasperation. “I’m just…concerned.”

“That I stink?”

“Yeah.” He pointed at him, open palm, like it answered all of Jisung’s questions, but it did nothing but confuse him even further. Jisung made a face, incredulous and lost. “I…” Changbin blew out a breath. “I never thought Chan hyung would be like this, you know? I never thought he’d be so territorial, borderline authoritarian-” 

“That’s not what this is.”

“I know, I know. But you smell like it and it’s confusing as heck. Are you sure you’re okay with it?”

Jisung had to physically refrain from rolling his eyes. “Of course I’m okay with it.”

Changbin still looked skeptical –as he was by nature, distrustful of new things until he tried and tested them out himself to form an opinion. Jisung couldn’t fault him for being less open-minded, but he could really do without him sharing his apprehensions. 

“Okay, then. Just…” Changbin sighed again, looking away. “Be careful, Sungie. You don’t have to always put up with it just to placate Chan hyung.” 

“Put up with it?” Jisung growled, frustrated and irked beyond belief. “What the fuck?”

“I wouldn’t tolerate being dommed and scented all the time–”

“You think I’m just, just letting him scent me to appease him? You think I’m just tolerating hyung and that I gain nothing from it?” Jisung's voice rose with every infliction. 

“I’m sorry, I thought that’s what –nevermind.” Changbin gave him a once-over, gaze scrutinizing. He looked out of his depth, which was so unlike him, especially since Jisung raised his voice at him. Normally, he would’ve grouched back. “So, uh... You’re…into that?” 

What the fuck? Jisung pressed his teeth together to keep from snapping back. 

It took him some deep breaths to realize that the older alpha honestly didn’t understand. Because how could he ever understand? No self-respecting alpha would let themselves be dommed and scented over and over again –even by their pack’s lead alpha. Shit, Jisung couldn't even recall a single memory of Chan scenting Changbin outside of pack bonding time, and even then he kept his warm, homey scenting sparse with the second alpha. 

So how could Changbin ever understand why Jisung would enjoy it? They've never talked about something like this. Hell, they’ve rarely talked about Jisung’s romantic interest, because Jisung denied ever having one. And whenever his hyung asked him about finding someone to date and possibly mate, Jisung would always shut him down. He never liked broaching that topic, because he just couldn't admit he had fallen deep for their lead alpha and his mate. So, gradually, Changbin asked less and less. 

And if this was Changbin’s attempt to talk about it, well then he was doing horribly. 

Jisung felt so dumbfounded that he could only mutter a breathy–

“Yeah.”

Changbin blinked, surprised as he stared mutely. Jisung scratched his neck, feeling flustered from openly admitting it. The loaded silence stretched out for so long that Jisung quietly resumed his set just to break away from the awkwardness. He managed to complete a full set of curls, gritting his teeth through the last three reps as his sore arm was failing him. He switched to the other arm, pulling in five reps before Changbin broke the silence.

“Okay.” Changbin took in a deep and loud breath, “That’s great, good for you.”

“Seriously?” he grunted, pulling up the heavy weight through the concentric part of the motion and holding it at the top until he felt a strain at the side of his pec. “That’s all you’ve got?”

“Sungie, I’m supportive of you two.” Jisung gave him an incredulous look, lowering the weight back down. “I’m trying, okay? I just don’t know how to go about it.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Changbin hesitated. He seemed so unsure and unconfident that Jisung wondered what really was going on in the elder’s mind. Why would the blunt and brutally honest alpha dither with what to say? 

He ended up dropping the weight, set unfinished. Fuck it, six will do.

“What, hyung?”

Changbin ruffled his own bangs, shoulders slumped. “It’s just not how I imagined he’d be like. Not what I thought he’d do.“

Jisung felt taken aback even more, mind running wild with suspicious scenarios. “Have you guys talked about it?”

“Uh… Something like that.”

Shit.

“What do you know?”

“I just lent him an ear, ya’know.”

No, I don't fucking know. 

“Hyung. What do you know?” he stressed. 

Changbin frowned at his brusque tone. “Look, Chan hyung just needed someone to hear him out, okay? Someone who wasn’t Minho. That’s it.” 

“What. Do. You. Know?” he growled.

The older alpha looked completely unperturbed, dismissive of his challenging attitude. Instead he took a moment to look around before asking. “Is there something I shouldn’t know, Jisung-ah?”

Jisung swallowed down another growl, feeling caught. It irritated him that Changbin couldn’t just give him a straight answer and instead was playing this mind game with him, worming his way into getting Jisung to spill his secrets. He had to be critical and cautious. 

Or he could always go his default route and shut the older alpha down. 

“You’re being an asshole.” 

“That’s rich coming from you,” Changbin scoffed. “You know, all I ever did was try to help you. To be on your side. I fought so much with Minho to stop him from being dismissive and fucking get his shit together and stop hurting you-” he poked Jisung’s chest- “ and Chan.”

“I never asked you to-”

“It’s my job. I’m the middle man. I’m the one who has to tell the hyungs how things are. I’m the one who argues in your favor-” he poked Jisung’s chest again, causing an annoyed growl to escape his mouth. “They hold power over you and dictate your fate within the pack. Things could’ve gotten way worse for you if Minho hadn’t asked me to set things straight for him. And even then, he still wouldn’t listen, he still didn’t take in how serious his actions were and made your bond break even worse. Hell!” he exclaimed, hands in the air as he wildly gesticulating with ire. “How bad was it to go through all that pain alone that you still haven’t spoken to anyone about it?”

Wrong. It’s all wrong, he’s so fucking wrong!

“And Chan…” Changbin let out a heated breath. “I don’t know if you truly understand how hard all of this has been for him. You’re lucky he’s the best alpha I know and that he wants to give you a chance. Even after everything you-” Changbin cut himself off, clenching his jaw tight.

Jisung frowned hard enough to feel a tension headache. What the fuck did he know?

“Look,” Changbin laid his hand on his shoulder, “I love you, Sungie, you’re my lil’bro and you can count on me for anything-”

“I don’t need you.” He smacked his hand away, striking the elder silent. “Why would I want your help when you have no fucking idea what I’m going through?” he raised his frayed voice, bearing his teeth. He stood, fists clenched as he watched the sheer hurt in Changbin’s face. “You could never understand what it’s like to be me. So why the fuck should I ever listen to you?”

Jisung marched away, back to the cave, before he did something stupid like punch Changbin in the face. 

He felt irrational with anger, face hot, eyes watery and head spinning as he cursed the elder alpha under his breath. His muscles ached and the sweat itched his skin. Everything bothered him, even the warm sunbeams were sizzling his prickly skin. He needed to cool down. He needed to fucking wash it all off. 

He ignored everyone in the clearing, heading straight for the washroom, but his path was intercepted by Chan. His leader caught him by the arm.

“Woah, Sungie, what’s wrong?” 

For fuck’s sake, Chan was the last person he wanted to see right now. 

“Nothing.” He tried freeing his arm, but Chan’s hold was strong and secure. “Let go.” 

“No.”

“Hyung-”

“Walk with me,” Chan ordered, pulling him along.

He stubbornly dug his heels, “No.”

“Jisung.” His leader whipped around to level him a serious look. 

He knew he couldn’t go against the elder’s authority, no matter how much he wanted to flee and hide. Chan shifted his grip to hold his hand, leading him west from the clearing. Jisung kept his eyes down, feeling the curious gazes of the packs burn his back as they walked into the forest. The further they went, the more his anger was replaced by nerves. 

Then Chan wordlessly turned to face him and presented his left arm -meaningful tattoos on display for him to choose from.

Jisung deadpanned at him. “Isn’t it fucking obvious?” he snapped. 

He was caught by surprise when Chan held his neck, yet the effect was immediate. The measured pressure of his fingers helped ground Jisung’s mind. His eyelids drooped, staring directly into Chan’s green eyes with his glassy ones -angered tears shed with every heavy blink. Chan’s full attention was on him, cautious and curious as he began to massage circles into Jisung’s neck, relieving the tension from his body and slowing down his anxious heart. His bond felt calm, warming up to every purposeful press. Chan slid his hand higher and Jisung couldn't help but lean into the fingers kneading right behind his jaw. 

To be held like this by Chan, only with Chan, felt like a tactile soothing balm for Jisung, something to help reset his mind and recalibrate his emotions. He couldn’t even be annoyed at his hyung for using this on him, since he was the one who showed Chan how to calm him down. 

Yes, Jisung showed him how much power his leader held over his inner alpha. A mock bite from the front of the neck, to any other alpha, would either be considered a challenge –an excuse to start a fight– or a physical chastisement. But his wolf was smitten for the lead alpha –he’d drop down and roll over to show his belly if he could. 

“Better?” Chan asked.

Jisung slightly nodded, unconfident in using his voice. 

Chan looked at him for a silent moment, making Jisung feel self-conscious for being unable to move away. He ended up lowering his gaze, tear tracks still wet on his lashes and cheeks. 

“What happened, Sungie?” 

Just thinking back to the clusterfuck of a conversation he had with Changbin boiled his blood. But, worst of all, he felt a sharp, stinging betrayal from Chan for telling the other alpha who-knew-what. 

“Wha-” he swallowed thickly. “What does Changbin know?” 

Chan furrowed his brows in confusion. Jisung felt his sanity hanging by the thinnest thread. 

“About us. About– You, you said you only told them about the-the headspace, but that’s not true. What– How much does he know?” Jisung was going crazy for an answer. He pulled Chan’s hand away from his throat. “Hyung–”

“He doesn’t know about your bond.” Jisung closed his eyes, letting out a relieved breath. “No one knows.”

He shook his head, “Felix knows.”

“Oh…” Jisung wasn’t sure if he should feel bitter by how surprised Chan looked. “What did he say?”

Jisung took a step back, feeling his frustration wane to a mild simmer. He disliked talking about his bond because it still felt unwelcomed, an uninvited thing that settled deep in his heart without his permission. A physical thing meant to connect him to the wolves he most loved -but couldn’t mate. How fucking lucky. 

But Chan appeared so sincere in his interest that Jisung couldn’t leave him hanging.

“He thinks it's a good thing.”

Chan smiled warmly, leaning in to speak softly, “I think it’s a good thing too. I, um, I used to feel jealous of Minho’s bond for you. But when it broke, I didn’t feel relieved. I felt sad.” 

Jisung felt his world overturn. He hadn’t known how much Minho’s second bond truly bothered him. He knew Chan had worried about the threatening pain Minho’s growing bond would bring, but he had been blind to anything else. Knowing the presence of a second bond interfering with his hyung’s mating bond renewed an onset of past guilt. 

But now Chan looked at him with an openness that scared him with hope. He felt delusional and spiteful towards himself. He needed to get a fucking grip. 

“I realized pretty late that I could live with it,” Chan continued, his confession heavy between them. “So, yeah, I’m happy you get to keep yours.” 

Chan touched his face, drying the stubborn tears staining his face. As much as he loved his leader’s attention, he didn’t want Chan taking care of him. He wanted answers. 

“What does he know?” he insisted, though calmer now, without missing the way his hyung’s face slightly fell as he leaned away from his touch. “He said you two talked.”

“We did. I needed his insight.”

“About what?”

The elder’s demeanor softened along with a warm shift in his scent. “Umm, about giving you –us a chance to figure things out. I wanted to make sure my reasons for giving you a chance were genuine, because you matter so much to me.” 

Jisung struggled to reason over his cursed bond pulling his heartstrings. “So you told him?”

“No. I didn’t have to tell him anything. He already figured out there was something more. That you had feelings…for me.” Chan rested his hand on his shoulder, drawing closer, “Sungie, you falling into headspace because of me is very telling.” 

“Oh…”

Well now he felt like shit for doubting his hyung. Even worse for jumping into conclusions and accusing Changbin. Too blinded by rage, he failed to realize just what it meant for Changbin to know he could enter headspace. The facts were right there, exposed for everyone to know: he was a submissive alpha, one that would lie beneath another and let them mark and claim him. 

It probably didn’t take much more brain power to add up the rest.

Jisung held onto his hand to ground himself. “So you didn’t…”

Chan shook his head, no. “All he knew was that I wanted to give us a chance, before you even came back home. I spoke with him to help me process things because I…I felt…conflicted about how everything happened. The fights. The way you left. The…” He let out a tight breath, “I didn’t tell him this, but learning that you lied to me, for so long, hurt.” 

“Hyung-”

“I wish you had told me sooner.”

“I wanted to,” Jisung blurted out, feeling his heart in his throat, raw and malfunctioning. “I wanted to tell you. Before, back when Minho hyung and I… Back when we synched and everything went to shit.” 

Chan looked shocked by the revelation, hand falling limp to his side. 

“Everything was such a mess because of me, that I just… I thought that if I came clean, if you knew it was you and not just Minho, then maybe it would’ve been easier for you to let me go.” The words spewed out of his mouth, unstoppable and senseless, “I psyched myself all night to do it. But when I saw you two that morning, you both looked so hurt, like- like you hadn’t slept and cried the whole night. And, and Minho hyung looked so small in your arms, and you, you looked at me like I was a stranger.” His voice broke, tears threatening to fall. “Like I wasn’t your pack, but a threat.”

Chan’s face crumpled, “Sungie-”

“I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it, hyung. I didn’t want to make it worse. I didn’t want you to hate me more.” He cracked, tears rolling hot down his face, bond twisting and aching. “So lying and hoping I could stave off for a while until I could leave was the-the best option.”

“Jisung–”

“I-I know I made mistakes. I know I fucked up, but–”

Chan reached for him, “Come here.”

“No.”

“Sungie, please,” he said, voice strained and mournful. “I’m still your hyung.” 

Jisung was a weak, weak man. He folded easily, falling into his hyung’s strong arms, greedily seeking the warmth and comfort of his scent as Chan held him tight. Chan shushed him, hand petting the back of his head, but Jisung still ached all over. His spilled guts didn’t free him from remorse, his guilt too deeply rooted.

“I’m sorry, Chan, for– for everything.” He grabbed fistfulls of Chan’s shirt, clinging, begging. “I’m so-sorry.”

Chan kept shushing him, rocking them side to side. 

“I never hated you,” Chan admitted, resting his face against Jisung’s head. “No matter how bad things got. No matter how hurt or angered I felt. I never hated you for it, Sungie,” his voice broke, like he was crying too, “I could never.” 

And wasn’t that the heart of the issue? Chan was too kind, too caring, it was impossible not to love him. No matter how much Jisung fucked up, no matter all the hurt he’d caused, Chan would always forgive him. 

How was he to survive the ache in his heart when his hyung kept holding him this way; kept caring for and protecting him, when Jisung was irrevocably in love and Chan was just…being Chan. 

Unbreakable bonds, what a cruel fucking joke. 

So he got too into his head. That happened sometimes.

He hid in his hyung’s room for the better part of the afternoon, tucked at the corner, cushioned by pillows, hands buried in the pocket of his hoodie. The snacks Minho brought him to munch on, sliced pears and ribbons of deer jerky, left forgotten in the bowl beside him. Now two vases decorated Chan’s side of the room. A small arrangement of vibrant azaleas, pale dog rose, foxtail grass and branches of greenery shared space with the previous bouquet of laurels, wild roses, and magnolias. There were new roses in the first vase filled with single flowers that Jisung hadn’t gifted to either Chan or Minho. He wondered who had cut them for whom. 

Chan let him skip work, knowing that his mood was down and he needed some time alone. But the solitude didn’t help Jisung feel better. If anything his thoughts beat him down, ruthless and incessant. He had no excuse for his behavior towards Changbin. The elder alpha probably didn’t answer because he didn’t have one. He had no reason to be so suspicious of him, he couldn’t even understand why he reacted that way. It made him feel like shit, to be so paranoid and snappy. Too sensitive, too defensive and behaving like an absolute asshole because of it. 

He was tired of it. Of himself. He felt exhausted from keeping track with who-knew-what and worrying what secrets the others might uncover. Hyunjin already suspected he had feelings for Chan before, and if Hyunjin thought so, then Seungmin probably did as well. And if they knew, if they knew he had been in love with their leader for so long, then they’d know he had been lying the whole time he had synched with Minho. And wouldn’t that paint an ugly picture. Liar, deceiver, disrupting their leader’s bond, making them argue and question their relationship. If Jisung had come clean from the start, then Minho wouldn’t have taken part of the fault.

But he didn’t. He let Minho share the blame with him, because at least his hyung did harbor feelings for him, no matter how much he tried to deny it all. He dragged Minho into all the chaos because synching with Minho, having his inner omega accept him as a prospective mate, burgeoned a sense of hope and desire he had never felt before. So strong and heart gripping. Something different he hadn’t felt with Chan –could never have with Chan. 

So he kept lying. As terrified as he was, as wrong as he felt, he kept hiding. If the pack knew just how much of a coward he had been, then what? 

He also worried that Felix and Jeongin already knew too much. And who was to say that the youngest hadn’t blabbered and spilled his secrets again? 

Jisung felt nauseous with dread. He curled into himself, confining the waves of bile to stay stuck in his stomach, gut tight as a knot. 

And besides his dread of his pack’s judgment, what he hated most was the unjustified worry they all had over him. They believed his bond had broken and they were still concerned about him, over something that never happened. Jisung felt heavy-burdened by all that undeserved attention. It was unfair to them. 

Everything just felt wrong and icky, like his lying had rotten something inside of himself and infected those around him, tarnishing his relationship with his pack, making them all hover and worry so damn much. This needed to stop. He couldn’t take it anymore. 

He dipped his nose into the high collar of his hoodie –the soft fabric now smelled of a mixture of his scent with his hyungs, faintly of Minho’s zesty-floral, mostly his petrichor doused in Chan’s strong and smoky vetiver. 

Changbin was right, he reeked of Chan. 

“Sung.” Minho entered the room, face placid but with something heavy in his eyes. 

Jisung uncurled himself as Minho sat beside him, leaning into him and leaving no space between their bodies. His hyung felt warm, as if he brought the sunlight in with him. He said nothing as he glanced him over, sharp eyes catching the untouched-bowl, the pears now oxidized brown. Minho let out a sigh through his nose. 

He laid his cheek on Minho’s shoulder. “‘m sorry,” he mumbled, tongue languid from disuse. “Not hungry.”

“You’re not skipping dinner. We can eat alone together if you want, but you have to eat something. Alright?”

Jisung nodded against his shoulder. He’d already gotten away with skipping lunch, he didn’t want to worry his hyung even further.

Minho held onto his thigh, giving him a comforting squeeze. “Do you want to talk about it?” Jisung shook his head, no. “Is there anything I can do?” 

“Let me hold you?” 

The side of Minho’s lips curled, soft in his amusement. “Okay.”

He slid his arms around his hyung’s waist, pulling him closer to snuggle his face into his neck. He poked his nose against his scent gland, breathing in the soothing notes of Minho’s dark berry scent that overpowered his moody rain. Minho pried his hands apart, slotting their fingers together and holding them at his belly. For all the sturdy muscle he packed, Minho felt soft as a pillow. 

The serene and silent companionship melted the damned bond in his chest, soft feelings oozing into every cavity of his heart. As much as he loved his pack, this feeling, this intimacy, was one he craved like a stray craved a home. 

And yet, his thoughts didn’t stop. 

Jisung didn’t understand why he found it so difficult to trust the people he loved. Minho had asked him many times before to confide in his pack, to let them in and help him out. And he did trust them, in many ways, with many things, even with his life. But not this. It was too hard, too terrifying, too…too fucking vulnerable. He didn’t know how he ended up this way; why he was so withdrawn. It made him feel like shit, like it wasn’t only his body that was messed up, but that he was also fucked in the head. 

Everything about this felt so fucking wrong.

And as much as it scared him and made his bile rise, he knew what he needed to do to overcome it. He needed to confront his fears head on, to be headstrong as an ox and knock every damned wall down. 

“Hyungie.”

“Hmm?”

“I think it’s time I tell them.” 

Minho rubbed his cheek against his hair. “Tell them what?”

“Everything.” He swallowed his nerves, “‘bout my bond, my mom, maybe, I dunno. Hyunjin wants to know where I went, so…yeah, I might tell them about her too.”

Minho squeezed his hands. Jisung could hear his heart beat faster, feel his pulse bump against his temple. 

“If anyone makes you feel bad, I’ll put them on compost duties,” he said dead serious in the softest voice. It startled a genuine laugh from Jisung. “You just give me a name and I’ll make sure they scrape every bit of tallow off the grill, make them scrub every corner of the washroom, have them do all the laundry and wash all the dishes–”

Jisung loudly kissed his cheek and watched the skin dust into a lovely pink. “I love you.”

Minho turned quiet, his shoulders shying inwards and his scent giving off a sweet, mellow wisp. 

“I love you too.” Minho whispered with difficulty, pressing their faces together, “And I’m proud of you.” 

His chest did this weird tumble, like his cursed bond tripped his heart and made him fall in love all over again. He nuzzled against his boyfriend, getting more of his beautiful scent. 

As the lead omega, Minho’s scent had the power to ease his anxiety and flip his mood, it was, afterall, part of what being a pack entailed. The way they influenced each other was dictated in their group dynamics. However, for a long time now, his hyung’s scent meant something more to him, something deeper, all-encompassing and bonding. And in spite of all the confusion he felt when they first synched, he knew his inner alpha was doomed to fall in love with Minho.

He never tired of the happiness he felt with him. 

“Hey,” Chan called quietly as he entered the room, breaking their little bubble.

Jisung’s first instinct was to growl at the interrupting alpha, but he stifled the sound by pressing his teeth to his tongue. His second instinct was to get away from Minho, cautious of Chan’s reaction. But he held fast, keeping their hands locked together.

Chan observed them, his green eyes catching the space where Jisung had buried his face into his mate’s neck. There was a slight tension in his gaze, in his jaw, but that was absent from his scent. Jisung knew his hyung was sensitive about Minho’s neck –with good reason. But Jisung had been good, kept his teeth away from Minho’s gland. 

He also didn’t dare kiss Minho in front of Chan again. As much as Minho tried to appear confident for them both, he was still scared of crossing that line again, he didn’t want to fuck things up. 

His leader walked up to them, the lines of his face softening with every step. He let out a small sigh as he stopped before them, appearing apologetic. 

“Changbin’s looking for you, Sung-ah.”

Damn it… 

He hugged his boyfriend one more time before untangling from him. He accepted Chan’s proffered hand to stand. 

“Do you want me there to mediate?” Chan offered. 

“No, thanks.” 

Chan gave him a tight smile, worried, always fucking worried about him. 

“Let me know how it goes?”

“Yeah.”

Changbin was waiting in the hall, leaning against the cavern wall. He nodded his head towards the direction of his room and Jisung followed silently. The closer they got to the older alpha’s room, the more Jisung wanted to sublimate and disappear into thin air. 

The room was empty, no signs of omegas other than the perpetual aroma of Felix’s honey-basil, and the transient scent of Wooyoung’s neroli-honeysuckle. Changbin offered him to sit, but Jisung couldn’t even face him from where he stood, feet glued to the floor. The guilt he felt from the morning accumulated throughout the day, the apology heavy on his tongue. He just needed to open his mouth and let the words tumble out. 

“Hyung, I’m sorry. I–”

“Don't,” Changbin raised his palm to silence him. He clenched his jaw, stepping closer, orange eyes brighter than the candlelights. “You’re right, I don't have a fucking clue what it's like to be you. I know shit nothing about what you're going through. But I want to be there for you. Even if I struggle to be empathetic, even if I can never completely understand it, I want you to rely on me.” 

Jisung felt shocked by the intensity and sincerity of Changbin’s words. His chest did a funny thing, feeling all too tight and then all too loose, like his emotions coiled up just to unspool. 

“Teach me how. Tell me how it is, fight me if you have to. But damn it, Jisung-ah, let me be there for you. Because, ugh–” Changbin’s chest was heaving, shoulder rising. “I know you might disagree or simply hate hearing this, but you’re at a disadvantage with the hyungs. You getting involved with our pack leaders, Sungie, the lines are blurred. They might never mean you harm, but they might impose themselves on you. I don’t expect them to, and I really hope they never do and that I’m just being reasonably paranoid. But, just in case, if you ever need someone to back you up, rely on me. And, fuck, for anything, Sungie, rely on me.” 

Changbin ended up winded from his rant, his face desperate for a reply. But so much was going through Jisung’s mind, his heart wrecked with the onslaught of emotions. He couldn’t say anything. All that came out of his wobbly mouth was an embarrassing, broken whimper. Changbin coddled him in his thick arms, hand patting his back. Jisung could only stand there and lean on him. He struggled to reel in his emotions and contain his scent from being an outright downpour. 

All he wanted was, for once, to stop being such a fucking mess all the damn time. 

Jisung spent the entirety of the next day imagining conversations in his head, writing dialogues of what he’d say and how he’d say it, picturing his pack’s reaction with every iteration, only to cringe and start over again. 

His distracted mind became a working hazard. He dropped planks of wood in three separate instances, bangged San’s hip with a beam when he pushed instead of pulling, and managed to break a bark scraper –he still didn’t know how the hell that happened. They kept him away from any tools after that. 

It was frightening how fast the cabin was coming together. They set down the whole ondol in the first week. The pipeline that connected with the river was already working and both the primary and secondary wells were collecting water. However, the filtering system still needed some fine tuning. By the second week they placed the floor and set the rudimentary pillars to frame the cabin and the maru veranda. 

There was this skeleton of a hanok cabin and with so many helping hands they would probably finish it within another month. All of them were helping because they cared about him. Half his pack believed the cabin was meant to keep Jisung safe during the winter, when really it was to protect Minho –another lie that further magnified his guilt. 

With being demoted to just moving shit around, he survived the rest of the day without any other incident. Stealthily, he managed to ask each pack member to hang out after dinner. Their easy acceptance encouraged him a little, but by the time the sun was setting, Jisung felt as if the day passed too quickly and he wholeheartedly didn’t know how to proceed. 

He decided to corral the pack into the betas’ room, being the place Hongjoong’s pack was less likely to make an appearance. They sat in a circle, Jeongin, Seungmin and Hyunjin on the bed, Changbin, Felix and Jisung on the carpeted floor. 

Hyunjin and Changbin were idly chatting over the prospect of visiting Soobin’s pack, while Felix massaged his mate’s shoulder. Jeongin looked grumpy with sleep, chin resting on his hand, lips pursed out and eyes half-closed. Seungmin looked tired too, slouched against his mate, staring directly at Jisung –his passive face giving nothing away, in an eerie resemblance to Minho.

“Is there something in particular you want to do, or are we just going to sit here and not let me sleep?” Seungmin said.

And just like that everyone’s attention was on him. Jisung could hear his heartbeat booming in his ears. 

“Uh, actually, I, um, wanted to…talk.”

“Okay,” Felix cheerily agreed.

“What about?” Seungmin asked. 

“You good with the hyungs?” Changbin questioned softly, however he side-eyed Jisung’s neck.

He knew how strongly he smelled of Chan. Before collecting the pack, Jisung had asked Minho to scent him. Chan caught them and decided he too needed to heavily lay his scent on Jisung, nearly masking over his mate’s aroma.

“Yeah, we’re good.” 

Changbin nodded in easy acceptance. Everyone’s attention was still on him. Hyunjin looked curious, his intense gaze unnerving him. Hyunjin hadn’t asked Jisung about his winter whereabouts again, but he knew the beta still wanted to know.  

“So, uh…there’s this, um… I mean, well–” 

Jisung let out a big breath –his heart pounded so fast, he felt breathless from it. Yeah, no. There’s no fucking way I’m doing this. 

He couldn’t just confess things unprompted. There was no conversation to drive his thoughts into. He needed context, he needed some background filler to connect his thoughts and say the things he kept buried inside. No, he needed an excuse.

“I need a minute,” he rushed out and bolted from the room. 

He quickly scoured the storage room and came back with a ceramic bottle of rice wine. He sat back down next to Felix and used his teeth to pull out the cork stopper, making a big ‘pop’ sound. He took a big swing, sweet, tangy and bitter wine coated his tongue and throat.

“Woah, Sung, chill, what–” Changbin stammered. 

“I once stole a chicken from a neighbor's coop,” Jisung quickly confessed and then breathed in through his teeth to alleviate the astringent burn. 

Hyunjin laughed in that high pitched staccato that made him sound unsure of his own amusement. “What? For real?”

Jisung offered the bottle to Felix, his jade eyes sparkled, mischief in his smile. “Uuuh, okay.” He accepted the bottle, swishing the wine inside as he hummed in thought. Felix took a moderate shot, straight from the bottle. “I stole a pearl necklace,” he admitted, stopping to quickly clear his throat. “From Hongjoong’s pack, but Channie hyung confiscated it,” he ended with a petulant pout.

“I thought Woo gave you one?” Changbin said.

“Yeah, after I told him Channie hyung took mine.” He offered the bottle. 

“Oh, so we’re really doing this, huh?” Changbin chuckled, the corner of his mouth curling as he accepted the bottle from his mate. 

“What is this?” Jeongin asked. 

“Confession game,” Seungmin supplied, russet eyes rivaling Felix’s mischief. “You take a shot and then confess something.” 

“Yah, Jisung! You should’ve brought cups,” Hyunjin complained. 

“Ups?”

“We’re pack, we can share some spit,” Changbin claimed.

“Confess what?” Jeongin prompted Seungmin with a light shove to the shoulder. 

“You’re deepest darkest secrets.” Seungmin grinned, leaning into Jeongin’s face, but the alpha grimaced and shoved him hard enough for Seungmin to fall into his mate, laughing like the maniac he was. 

“Anything, Innie. You can say anything you want,” Felix said. “This is a safe place, and whatever’s said in the game, stays in the game.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That we’re not gonna spill. Whatever we say here stays like an open secret among us,” Jisung took over.

“Hurry up,” Hyunjin rattled Changbin with his foot against the alpha’s thigh. 

“Yah! Alright, alright.” Changbin boldly drank some wine. “When Chan hyung and I were teenage pups, we’d go exploring out of our pack’s territory. One time we found this basin and went skinny dipping. But it turned out that the water was infested with leeches.”

“Eew,” Hyunjin grimaced. 

“Hyung had to pull a leech from my ass.”

“Ugh, hyung! I didn’t need the visual,” Jisung complained. 

“Jealous?” Seungmin wiggled his eyebrows. 

“No!”

Changbin snorted, passing the bottle to Hyunjin. Despite his previous complaint, the beta didn’t hesitate to take a shot. 

“You remember Felix’s old favorite shirt? The one that took forever to dye blue?” The whole group, excluding Jeongin, nodded and hummed along. Hyunjin pointed at himself, “I lost it.”

“Yah!” Felix barked. 

“Sorry,” Hyunjin giggled with a shoulder shrug, and passed the bottle to his mate. 

Seungmin pursed his lips, tapping the top of the bottle against his chin as he took a moment to ponder. After a sip he admitted– “I once got high on shrooms trying to prove Jisung wrong with identifying them as non-edible.”

Jisung snorted a laugh, remembering how paranoid Seungmin had been during the first wave of his high, only for the beta to end up turning into a laughing and cuddling mush. He remembered Seungmin laid his head on his lap and kept reaching up to touch his face, poking Jisung’s eyes, nose and mouth. 

“Seriously?” Changbin asked, half-amused, half-concerned. 

“Yeah, it took a couple of hours for the effects to wear off,” Jisung supplied. 

“Any side effects?” Felix wondered.

“Other than lowering his brainpower?” Jisung taunted. Seungmin threw a small pillow at him. 

“Stomachache,” Seungmin answered, handing the bottle to Jeongin. 

“Wait, no,” Changbin cut off, hand in the air. “You don’t drink.” 

“Why not?” Jeongin griped.

“You’re still too young.”

“I’m an adult.”

“You barely presented a month ago!”

“Two!” Jeongin corrected. “And I’ve had some before, what’s the big deal?” He took a long swing, just to prove a point. He breathed in through his teeth, much like Jisung had. “Hyunjin hyung draws naked pictures of Seungmin.” 

“What!” Changbin screamed. 

“Oh my Moon!” Felix cackled.

“Innie! That’s not how the game works!” Hyunjin yelled, appalled. “You’re supposed to say something about yourself, not spill other people’s secrets.”

“Oh…”

“You told him?” Seungmin accused Jisung.

“No! I didn’t.”

“You knew?” Hyunjin glared.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“They’re literally just sitting there,” Jeongin said, pointing to the shelf. 

“That’s what I said!” Jisung agreed, elated. 

“I wanna see,” Felix jumped up.

Hyunjin moved to stop him, “No!” 

But Changbin caught him and held him down. Jisung laughed as he ratted out the exact location of the drawings. Unlike his mate, Seungmin gave up, lying flat on his back in despair. Felix brought over the bark sheets to browse them with Changbin –who still had a disgruntled Hyunjin trapped in his arms. The beta’s face grew redder with each compliment they gave him. 

“You really mean it?” Hyunjin asked in a small voice, golden eyes round like an owl’s. 

“Of course,” Changbin sincerely said. 

“They’re so good, Hyunnie hyung. You could draw us too,” Felix said.

“No,” Seungmin flatly forbade, still lying down.

Felix laughed, “Just our faces.”

“Or with clothes on,” Changbin added. 

Jisung scooted closer and peeked at the current drawing on the top of the pile. Seungmin’s body was depicted lying on his side, torso propped up on one elbow, opposite knee bent up as the other leg stretched out. He faced away, showing off his profile, strong lines curved his neck and shoulders. His long, flaccid dick laid on top of his thigh. Jisung pointed at it–

“Is that anatomically correct or an artistic decision?” 

Hyunjin stammered, his red flush growing darker. Changbin wolf-whistled and aggressively ruffled his hair, “You rascal.” 

“Can you please stop looking at my dick?” Seungmin griped, sitting up to shoot them a glare. 

It took a while to settle back into the game. They loudly discussed the validity of Jeongin’s confession and agreed to have him go again.

“I don't know what to say.”  

“Can I ask you something?” Seungmin tried, and continued when the youngest agreed. “Do you have a crush on Beomgyu?”

Jeongin frowned, scent leather-strong. “No.” 

“Then why’d you get all flustered around him?” 

“I, uh,” the youngest alpha blew out a breath. “He's just intimidatingly out-going and that makes me–” he shuddered. “Like, he gets too in my face and is so unpredictable, but he’s also too nice to feel mad about it. I just…want to be friends,” he quickly mumbled the last part, “Anyway, Minho hyung started that crush rumor just to bother me.”

“But you don't get all cute and flustered when we get all in your face,” Hyunjin complained.

“That's ‘cause y’all are ugly and annoying.”

Jeongin ignored their complaints. The bottle was back in Jisung’s hands. 

Shit…

He braced himself and imbibed a good mouthful of the wine. “I still hate my old pack. I think I'll never get over it.” He felt the weight of his words dampen the mood of the room. “Oh and-” he took another sip for good measure- “I lied about being the pack medic assistant. I just did odd jobs for the man to have an excuse to stay out instead of being stuck in the den with my depressed mother.”

“Shit, okay,” Changbin said, looking around. “So we’re going dark this time.”

Felix made a complicated face as he received the bottle, like he wanted to ask more but held himself back. 

“Um, well, okay. Uh… I don’t know what to say.”

“You can skip,” Hyunjin suggested. 

“No, no. I want to. Just, lemme think.” He frowned, the skin around his nose wrinkling. Felix drank some wine. “I still have nightmares about the pack alpha attack.” 

Changbin’s eyes softened as he looked at his mate. He brushed his fingers against Felix’s nape before taking the bottle. He didn’t hesitate to drink. “I still have nightmares about that too.” 

He passed the bottle to Hyunjin and pulled Felix to his side. The omega melted against him, hugging his middle and resting his cheek on Changbin’s shoulder. Changbin kept his hand on his mate’s waist. 

Hyunjin took a moment before taking a sip. “I think I never hated Chan hyung more than when he told me to run off to warn the other pack. Like, I don't hate him, but at that moment I just, ugh–” he ran a tattooed-hand through his hair, glancing at Seungmin already looking at him and then the room. “I didn't want to leave you guys behind.” 

“That was a brave thing you did,” Changbin said, solemn yet heartfelt. “Following orders sometimes is the hardest thing to do.”

“Yeah. I understand why Chan hyung did that. But still, I…” He shook his head and passed the bottle. 

Seungmin held his hand for a moment as he pondered on what to say. His analytical gaze unnerved Jisung as the beta stared at him. 

“What?” he asked with an attitude, getting defensive. 

But Seungmin drank his share instead. “So, technically I didn’t quit being the medic apprentice just because I didn’t like my parents pressuring me into it. I may have accidentally mixed the wrong ingredients and intoxicated someone. Someone who just so happened to be, allegedly,  bullying my sister.”

Hyunjin smiled with pride. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Jisung question, baffled by all the subtext. 

“Make of that what you will,” Seungmin merely shrugged. 

“Shit, Seungmin,” Changbin muttered. 

Shit indeed… It was rather difficult to picture fifteen or sixteen year old Seungmin doing something like that. He used to be such a smiley and playful pup when he first arrived at the pack, and with time his mischievousness transformed into savageness. Hell, even when Jisung had the most fucked up ideas for experiments, it was Seungmin who hesitated and leveled the boundaries of his curiosity. 

“Did you get in trouble for that?”

“Technically speaking, yes. But it wasn’t that bad.”

“But was your sister really being bullied? Why d’you get in trouble if you were just defending her?” Jeongin asked. 

Seungmin rubbed his nose, looking away, “Allegedly.” 

Jeongin rolled his eyes at the non-answer. 

“Do the hyungs know?” Felix wondered.

“Yep. Minho hyung laughed.” Seungmin handed the bottle to Jeongin. 

“Of course he did,” Changbin mumbled. 

There was a slight pause and then they all looked towards Jeongin, still holding the bottle. The youngest seemed to be lost in his head, because it took him a few seconds to realize and react. He looked at Seungmin and then Jisung, before taking a big breath and drinking from the bottle. 

“I fucking hate my old pack,” he flatly said, but there was a quiet anger in his voice. He took another sip of the wine. “And sometimes I feel bad for how long it took me to break through my trauma.”

“Hey, no. None of that,” Felix spoke up.

“Innie, there’s no deadline to healing,” Hyunjin said. 

“I know, I know. But I’m not dumb.” He slightly jutted out his lower lip, face downturned in a frown, “I know how much my emotional baggage impacted the pack. I know how difficult I was for Minho hyung. And I…” He gave a pitiful shoulder shrug, “I know you guys are touchy and affectionate and aren’t trying to hurt me. I know that, but still… I’m sorry I’m still bad at communicating about it.” 

Jisung’s eyes pricked, unblinking. This was the most Jeongin ever openly expressed about himself. It made him want to be as brave too.

“Well, look at you communicating,” Changbin said with a big smile. 

“Hyung…” He rolled his eyes. 

“It’s not easy, Innie. And we’re proud of how much you’ve overcome,” Felix said. 

“No matter how long it takes,” Hyunjin emphasized. 

“We’ll still love you even if you bite and scratch when all we want is to hug you,” the omega continued with a chuckle.

“Thanks,” Jeongin mumbled, slightly embarrassed. 

All too soon it was Jisung’s turn again. He received the wine with a drawn out sigh. He was tipsy, already flushed red with how hot his face and neck felt. He was relaxed, comfortable with his pack, which was the whole purpose of the game, leveraging on the alcohol to dull his anxieties and disinhibit his mind. 

The ceramic bottle felt heavy despite being down to the last third. Jisung imbibed a fair amount, enough to eventually propel him into inebriation and make him regret it the next morning. The wine was the vessel to be courageous, it was now or never. 

“I’m in love with Chan.” No one seemed surprised, he wasn’t expecting them to be. He took another sip. “I have a bond for Chan hyung. And Minho hyung.” 

He braced himself for their looks of astonishment. Even Felix looked surprised that he admitted that. Hell, Jisung himself couldn’t believe he finally said it. 

He forced himself to breathe. “A two-for-one bond,” he joked in an attempt to break the stifling silence. “And the stupid thin’won't go away.”

“It didn’t break?” Jeongin asked, perplexed.

“Nope.” He popped the p. 

“How’s that even possible?” Seungmin questioned, voice barely above a whisper. 

Jisung looked down, pinching the fabric of his pants as he smiled. He felt insane. “That’s the fun part, isn’it?” He looked at Hyunjin, “You wan’ed to know where I went?” 

Hyunjin nodded mechanically, looking wary of what was happening. 

Jisung drank another shot. 

“Ji, stop. You're drunk.” Felix tried to take the bottle, but he wouldn’t let go. 

“I wen’back to my old pack. Not ‘cause I wan’to. But ‘cause I needed’to know what’s’wron’with me. Why this–” he hit his chest with the bottle, “won’fuckin’disappear.”  

“There’s nothing wrong with you!” Felix growled, startling him enough to steal the bottle and pass it to his mate. “I’m serious, Ji. Just because you’re different doesn’t mean you’re wrong for it.”

Jisung stared owlishly, something odd and effervescent bubbling inside. “What’s the poin’of a bond if y’never mate?” His throat burned, but not from the alcohol, not anymore. “Left unresk– unree– unrique– unwanted, it stops feelin’like love.”

Felix’s mouth downturned. He scooted closer. “Is that what happened to your momma? Why she’s depressed?”

He nodded, slow, as if the world would flip over its axis if he moved any faster. His face felt wet, he was too sweaty. Fuck, he was drunk. 

“Her first love didn’wan’her. Stuck witha bond. Dad never’ma’ed. They never…”

Felix hugged him to his side and used his own sleeve to wipe his tears. Oh…he was crying. 

“I'm sorry, bub.” Felix squeezed him.

Jisung clinged to him. “She's all blue.”

Hyunjin came over with a flask of gorosoe sap water, but he felt too sluggish to drink it. Hyunjin lifted his chin. “Come on, Sung. You'll get the worst headache if you don't.” He brought the lip of the bottle to his mouth and carefully helped him drink it, but he got annoyed by the water dribbling down his chin. 

“Nuh.”

“A bit more.”

Jisung made a noise that wasn't quite a growl, but it completely went ignored by the blond beta as he was made to drink more water. Hyunjin gave him some reprieve when he choked a little. Felix settled him down, using his sleeve again to dry his mouth.

He hadn't realized when everyone moved closer, now all sitting on the floor. 

“Is your mother like you?” Seungmin asked, voice soft and solidary.

“Hmm, is herry-darry,” he mumbled.

“Hereditary?”

“Mhm. Shit’genes.”

“It’s the same bond, isn't it? This whole time, you… It's always been there?” Jeongin looked lost, Jisung wondered where. “Even before Minho hyung?”

“Mmm…”

“What do you mean?” Changbin asked. 

Jeongin looked for Jisung to explain, but he felt too tired. “Go’on.”

“Hyung bonded for Chan hyung about a whole year before he synched with Minho hyung.”

“Wait… Wait. You're saying the whole time they synched, Jisung was already down bad for them both?” Changbin’s voice raised in bewilderment. “And you knew?”

Jeongin nodded. “That’s why we kept fighting. ‘cause hyung was lying.” 

The youngest looked sad, his big, gray eyes so round and apologetic. But Jisung couldn’t fathom why, not with how slow-wired his brain was working. If anything, he was the one who needed to apologize.

“I‘m sorry.” 

Changbin held his head between his hands, slouched over his knees. His mossy scent turned strong with disappointment. Jisung felt like absolute shit, the urge to cry ripped through his throat and chest. 

“The whole time… You could’ve told them and they wouldn’t have had such a…hard time…”

“’m sorry.” Jisung’s mouth wobbled. 

“Does Chan hyung know?”

“Mm’yeah… Everythin’”

Changbin let out a long and heavy sigh, as if his whole world was changing right before him. 

“Sorry, I-I couldn’. I dunno, was scared, they’were al’dy fightin’cause of me. And, an’ this thing won’go’way and Chan he-he doesn’, he’d never–”

“Shh, shh.” Hyunjin hushed his senseless blabbering and motioned for Jeongin to hand him another bottle of sap water. “Drink some more water.”

Between Felix, Hyunjin, and his own inebriated state, he couldn’t fight them. He felt like a baby pup being bottle-fed to stop him from crying. And as much as he hated it, he couldn’t deny that the trick worked. His breathing mellowed, helping him feel calm and collected. He downed nearly the whole bottle before Hyunjin gave him a break. 

“Sungie.” Changbin reached for his knee and Jisung’s hand moved before his mind, holding onto the older alpha. “You and Chan hyung have been going out on dates and spending time together. It’s going well for you,” he said, hopeful. 

“But he doesn’like me like that.”

“Give him time for his feelings to flourish.”

“An’if it never happens?”

“Nuh-uh, we don’t think like that in this pack,” Felix reprimanded, hugging him tight. 

“You smell like Chan hyung more than yourself these days. You can’t really believe nothing will come out of it, hyung,” Jeongin said, his approach a little shy. 

Jisung jutted his bottom lips out, petulant, because no one understood his worry, no one could comprehend that he had felt this way for such a long time and lived knowing Chan didn’t reciprocate his feelings. No, they all had to be stupid optimistic and put funny feelings in his belly and hopeful thoughts in his head. He didn’t need sweet dreams, he needed the cold, harsh slap of reality. 

“You’re not going to end up sad like your momma. We’ll make sure of that. Okay?” Felix promised him, his honey scent warm with affection. 

“You’re dumb,” he muttered. 

“No. You’re dumb.” Felix bonked their heads together. 

“You’ll be alright,” Seungmin stated as if it were a fact, like the sun was out, high in the sky on a sunny day. Simple and obvious. “A two-for-one bond, you said. Minho hyung loves you.”

Jisung frowned, his brain lagging. 

“Your bond will always be requited.”

He stared at Seungmin, watching him smile smugly in that annoying way he did whenever he proved himself to be right and Jisung wrong. 

Fuck. 

“Fuck.” He heaved a shuddering breath as his entire perception of his life shattered into smithereens. He felt like his heart slipped and broke in half, spilling out all his stifled emotions –clouds parting the curtain of rain. He wanted to cry all over again. “‘m so stupid.”

“Yeah, I know,” Seungmin chuckled. “It’s okay.” 

Jisung cracked.

“Oh, come on, Sung-ah.” Hyunjin lifted the bottle to his mouth again. 

Jisung glared through his tears, tired of it all. “What’re’ya? A litter’dam?”

“I’m you’re damn hyung. Now drink up.” 

Felix and Hyunjin kept coddling him. Between the omega’s warm honey scent and the beta’s calm lavender, he felt soothed and relaxed, body molding into them. The pack kept talking about how different their collective winter experience was now that Jisung’s truth was unearthed. How different it all felt knowing Jisung had been lying the whole time. They didn’t sound angry, they didn’t greatly care about the deceit, not when the reason behind Jisung’s secrecy was so raw and emotional. 

Sure, his admission did not lessen the gravity of his past fiasco, nor did it absolve him from the strain he caused to their leader’s relationship. But it did provide the missing insight and helped put the past winter into perspective. It had, in some ways, answered the final questions needed to provide closure.

He felt good, relieved, lighter than he had ever been in years. If Felix wasn’t holding him, then he might’ve floated away. He felt hopeful in a different way. Sure, Seungmin was right, as long as Minho kept loving him, his bond would be reciprocated and he wouldn’t fall into depression like his mother did. But it wasn’t as simple as that. As much as he felt loved by his boyfriend, his bond still felt hollow and heavy at times. In moments where his mind drifted into dreaming about Chan, in moments where Chan was physically present, his bond reacted. And whether the reaction was full of warmth or full of sorrow, Jisung could never predict it.

Chan could still wreck him, but Minho would mend him back together. 

But Jisung… Jisung could break Minho. He already did. 

“You gotta stop worryin’ about me,” he spoke up after a while. His mind felt clearer, yet his tongue was still heavy. 

Jeongin snorted, “Tough luck, hyung.”

“I’m serious. It’s him. It’s Minho you should worry’bout.” He frowned at them, trying his best to sound serious through his slurred speech and slumped state. “You have to– You have to take care of him. Need to protect’im from’me. Because the hyungs won’lemme go.” 

“You can't leave,” Hyunjin stressed. 

“I know, I know. We’buildin’ this fuckin’ cabin to keep us apart. But come nex’winter, and who’s’to know that Minho won’t bond again?” His heart felt bitter with how grim they looked. “I don’wanna break his heart again.”

Seungmin hesitated, as if he changed his mind about whatever he wanted to say. 

“Minho’s a tough guy,” Changbin said, still in that hopeful tone. “He can handle it.”

“For how long?” Jisung asked, still resentful and fully aware they had no answer. 

He remembered his father and wondered just how many bond-breaks it took for him to fall out of love with his mother. How much heartache did he endure until he got fed up and decided their family wasn't worth it anymore? How long until one last bond-break completely shattered love?

“Please,” he begged them, looking at them all. “Please.”

“Okay, bub. We will,” Felix promised, getting everyone to agree. 

“When winter comes, we'll look out for you both,” Changbin assured. 

“Yeah, we'll keep Minho hyung busy with us. Make sure he doesn't miss you too bad,” Hyunjin said. 

“Make him so busy he gets fed up with us,” Seungmin chuckled. 

“And we can still come stay with you at the cabin, right? You said so,”Jeongin insisted. 

“Yeah, ’course, Innie.” His smile wavered, he was still too emotional, still drunk. 

“No, Sungie, don't cry again,” Felix said, his own voice quavering. 

“Sorry. I love you guys. An’ I'm sorry it took me so long to tell you all this.”

“It's okay,” Hyunjin petted his head. “Thank you for trusting us.”

“It's what packs’do,” he mumbled. 

“Damn right,” Felix cheered with a tight hug. 

“You can always talk to us about anything, hyung,” Jeongin said. 

“Hopefully next time it won’t take a whole bottle of wine to get you talking,” Seungmin quipped.

“Always count on us, Sung-ah,” Changbin reassured. 

Jisung nodded, this time without the dizziness. “‘m gonna cry again.” Hyunjin lifted the sap bottle to his mouth again. “Noo, stop drownin’me.”

“You’ll thank me in the morning. Now drink up.” 

A harsh tug on his ankles woke him up with a start. Jisung was stuck in a tangled mess of limbs between Felix and Wooyoung. He didn’t remember going to bed, much less ending up in Changbin and Felix’s room. 

The hands on his ankles untangled his legs from Felix’s. Another tug and he was dragged with Wooyoung still hugging him. Jisung unwrapped the omega’s arms off him as he was pulled out of the pile by Minho –his boyfriend had an annoyed frown. 

Yeah, waking up between two mated omegas wasn't one of Jisung’s best moments –nevermind that Felix was his best friend and they would never, but the sentiment still stood.

“Hi, hyungie,” he sheepishly whispered. 

Minho glared and left him to scramble up to his feet. 

The cave was cold in the early morning. Jisung could barely keep his eyes open as he stumbled to the washroom, gross and sticky with sweat. At least he was saved from a throbbing headache, thanks to all the sap water Hyunjin forced down his throat.

He ended up in the leader’s room, searching for one of Chan’s long, shoulder mantles since he had no clue where his hoodie was. He nearly collided with Chan when he stepped back out to the corridor. His leader was shirtless, skin flushed with a light sheen of sweat. His tattoos stretched over the brawny shapes of his muscles. 

Jisung had the sudden urge to smash his face between Chan’s pecs.

Fuck… It was too much skin this damn early in the morning. 

“Oh, hi Sungie,” Chan cheerfully greeted, albeit still breathless from exercising. 

Jisung being Jisung, mumbled out something incoherent even to his own ears, fucking winked and high-tailed it out of there, running to the clearing before he did something worse like actually faceplant into his hyung’s chiseled chest. 

He found Minho inside the kitchen, prepping breakfast at the counter –tea already brewing in the pot. Jisung wanted to back-hug him and press his nose to his hyung’s neck, to whisper his love against his skin and share the revelation he had last night. But his gut warned him to tread carefully, especially because of the compromising position he found himself that morning. So he settled at his usual spot on the opposite counter. 

“Good morning, hyungie.” 

“Hmm.” 

Shit…

“So…about last night…” Minho turned around, leaning his hip against the counter as he dried his hands. He lifted a single brow to tell him to continue. “I was with Changbin hyung and Lix. I honestly don’t know when Woo hyung got there.” 

“Ah, so it’s Woo hyung now?” 

“Jung Wooyoung. Just Jung Wooyoung,” he quickly corrected. 

Minho smiled and gave a single nod of approval. “Did you get rid of his scent?”

Jisung pulled on his clothes to give it a cursory sniff. He smelled mostly of himself and Chan. “Yep.”

“Good.” Minho crossed his arms, tilting his head to look at him. “So… Who do I have to put on cleaning duty for the rest of their lives?”

His silly threat pulled a laugh out from Jisung’s belly. “No one.”

“Does his name start with Seung and end with Min?”

“No,” he chuckled.

“Don’t be afraid, Sungie,” Minho smiled wickedly as he got closer. “You can say it with me. Seungmin. It’s easy.” He shook his head, unable to keep from smiling. Minho gripped the counter by his thighs and leaned into his space. “Seung-min. Say it.”

“You’re so silly,” he teased, but then he cried out when Minho bit his nose. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You’re not silly, I take it back.”

Minho laughed. His eyes were pulled into crescent moons, his cheeks bunched up and rosy, his gummy smile making Jisung’s chest feel all fuzzy and warm. Jisung couldn’t stop himself from kissing him. 

He held Minho’s face, thumbs caressing the apples of his cheeks. “It went really, really well.” 

“Yeah? Does that have anything to do with the empty wine bottle I found this morning? 

“Uhh… Maybe?” Minho raised a single brow. “Am I in trouble?”

Minho laughed. “Maybe.” 

Jisung kissed him, short and sweet. “How’bout now?”

Minho’s smile turned soft and lovely, melting between his hands and Jisung’s heart melted with him, chest molten with warmth.

“I’m glad it went well, Sungie.”

Jisung pulled him in again, fitting their mouths to kiss smooth and unhurried. There was no better way to spend his mornings than with his hyung’s mouth pressed against his own. Kissing Minho was always an experience that left his heart soaring.

Yeah, Seungmin was right. As long as Minho loved him, he would be alright.

Minho gripped his wrists, but Jisung didn’t want to let go. He kissed him again, and again. Suddenly Chan was there, entering the kitchen, staring straight at them. Jisung startled back, hitting his head against the cupboard. 

He was quickly pulled down from the counter and into his hyungs arms. Chan put pressure over the sore spot to stop it from throbbing. 

“That must’ve hurt,” Chan worried, coddling him. 

“Are you okay? Why’d you do that?” Minho asked in a rush. 

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Minho frowned, “What are you even apologizing for?” 

“I don’t know. I, I…”

“Sung-ah,” Chan sighed out, disappointed. His hand slid down from the top of his head to the side of his neck –the weight of it captured all of Jisung’s attention. “I don't want you to feel like you have to hide from me.”

“But I don't want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“You're not.” Chan’s sincere gaze felt too heavy to hold. “Sungie, you’re not. I am comfortable. The scenting has helped a lot.”

“Really?”

The elder squeezed his shoulder and then gave them space, encouraging them to kiss to prove his point. But Jisung hesitated, nerves too wired up to move. Minho wavered for a moment, shifting his weight back and forth before swooping in to peck his cheek –his ears already fire red. 

“Seriously?” Chan chuckled and poked his mate’s side. “Why are you being so shy?” 

Minho grumbled unintelligibly, swatting away Chan’s teasing hands. They kept going, childishly  squabbling. But then Chan pulled him in and kissed him, one hand cradling Minho’s face, the other on his lower back to tuck him closer. Minho made an ‘umph’ sound as he was caught off-guard, the red blush spreading down his neck. He weakly hit Chan’s side with a closed fist, physically scolding him. Chan smirked into the kiss. Jisung felt light-headed from the sight. Minho pulled his hair and Chan groaned, loud and guttural –the sound traveled south of Jisung’s body. 

Yeah, no, Jisung was fucked. Teased to death; his lonely hand saving his balls from becoming perpetually blue. 

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath and scurried to the opposite counter. He tried to distract himself, to give his brain a simple task and override the horny thoughts from running amok, but his hand shook as poured the tea, completely missing the rim of the cup. “Shit.”

Chan was laughing as Minho grumpily shoved and pushed him away. He sounded endearingly happy. And really, who wouldn’t after kissing Minho like that. 

Jisung was drying the spillage when Chan loudly whispered–

“Go. Just go.” 

Then suddenly Minho turned him by his shoulder and kissed him on the mouth. Jisung dropped the rag, stunned. His nerves melted away as Minho held his face and kissed him, firm and unwavering. He reciprocated, gripping his hyung’s sides to keep his buckling knees upright, losing himself in Minho’s intoxicating love –the faintest of Chan’s scent still lingering on his mouth. 

Chan stood there, watching with fondness in his eyes and smile. 

Jisung felt overwhelmed by it all, he broke the kiss to hug Minho tightly, using the firmness of his body to ground his overactive mind. It was all too much; Minho’s love, Chan’s acceptance, the rapid beating of his heart, and the warm and lively feeling from his cursed bond. He could even smell the bright shift in his own scent. 

This moment felt monumental.

He fitted his chin over Minho's shoulder, facing Chan while his boyfriend’s fingers brushed through his hair. Chan's smile remained unwavering. 

Jisung's heart did something uneven and complicated, his emotions pouring out fast and uncontrollably. He closed his eyes and gave Minho a squeeze. 

“I love you.”

The words spilled out from him, uncontainable, into the space between them. 

Minho hummed and kissed his neck. When he opened his eyes, Chan's smile didn't quite reach his gaze. His expression uneven and complicated.

Jisung regretted uttering those words. 

But then Chan came closer and perched his chin on Minho's unoccupied shoulder, his long arms embracing them.

“I adore you both, so much,” he said, soft and earnest. 

Jisung knew, with utmost clarity, that Chan didn't love him the way he wanted to be loved by him. Chan loved him in an entirely different and sincere way.

Even if it wasn’t what he longed for, it was more than he ever thought he’d receive. 

Sharing his deepest, darkest secrets with his pack didn't make him feel alienated as he feared. Instead, he felt more at home, connected to them in heart and spirit. The shift in the pack was remarkable, they were all brighter, happier, livelier. Now that they knew his faulty bond never broke –and would remain unbroken– Jisung no longer felt the weighted shadow of their overbearing concern. They still looked after him, but it was different, like a friendly check up instead of a listless, anxious preoccupation. 

Or maybe Jisung was projecting his own happiness onto them, now that he no longer felt sick with guilt and stopped having to tread carefully to keep his secrets close to his heart. 

Either way, the next few days proved to him that the home he found in Chan’s pack was a home that would always welcome him and accept him for who he was, with all his flaws and insecurities, with all his glories and mistakes. 

The upturned mood was infectious. By the weekend, when they finally got a break from construction work, both packs were high-spirited and energetic. They played games and ran about, spending their limitless energy in the warmth of spring. Even Chan seemed happier, laughing and joining the packs’ shenanigans, easily taking on their physical weight whenever they ganged up on him. 

And Minho… Well, Minho was Minho. One had to look hard to find any differences in his demeanor, but once Jisung did, it became easier to notice, again and again, how much more vibrant his eyes sparkled. 

On Saturday afternoon, Jisung went out to collect as many red hibiscus flowers as he could fit in his leather satchel, and then he spent the rest of the afternoon extracting the pigment from them. He had enough flowers to boil into three separate pots, giving him a chance to experiment with the acidity of the water and how it affected the color extraction. He left the batches of hibiscus pigment drying overnight.

Then Jisung spent the better part of the next morning in the workstation again. He made lip balm by melting two parts tallow and one part beeswax, adding a teaspoon of gorosoe sap and a bit of liquified pine resin. He separated the mixture into six small ceramic bowls and mixed in the varied red hues. 

Now he was assessing the final tint colors of each batch. He didn’t quite like how muted some appeared in the solidified balm, but he still needed to test them. As Seungmin had said, the more acidic the water, the brighter the red. The less pigment he added to the balm mixture, the lighter and more pink. One turned out nearly orange, which was the one he accidentally poured more iron soil into an acidic extract. 

“Lip tint?” Seungmin repeated, browsing the selection. “That’s what you want to call it?”

“Mhmm.” He picked up the lightest pink of the tints. “Stay still.”

Seungmin, being the absolute brat that he was, did the complete opposite, dodging Jisung’s tint-daubed finger. 

“Yah! Why’d you offer to help if you’re gonna be like this?”

“I didn’t sign up to be a model. I thought you needed help with the pigment extraction. What if it tastes bad?”

“It won’t. It’s just some overly-rendered tallow and beeswax.” Seungmin made a face, like a half grimace. He held Jisung’s wrist to sniff the dollop of balm on his finger. “Hurry up, it’s melting.”

“Why don’t you try it on?”

“‘cause I need to see how it looks. Now stay still.” 

Seungmin closed his eyes and scrunched his nose as Jisung dabbed the tint balm on his lips. He added more because the tint was too light and barely noticeable from his normal lip color. 

“So how do I look?” Seungmin asked, sitting up on the counter. 

“Honestly, the same.” Jisung shrugged, mentally crossing off light-pink from his list. 

Seungmin licked his lips. “It’s kinda sweet.”

“It has gorosoe sap and– yah, stop eating it!”

“Why? It’s non-toxic, right?” 

Jisung mutely stammered as he failed to find a rebuttal. He still used a cloth to wipe off the remains from Seungmin’s mouth. He tested the bright pink hue, which looked a little too soft on Seungmin, but he imagined it would look better on Minho. Then he tested the dark pink one, and it looked better on him than he expected. 

“That good?” Seungmin exaggeratedly puckered his lips. “Wanna kiss me?”

Jisung laughed, lightly slapping the cloth on the younger’s mouth. He then debated over the dull red and dark red hues, making the beta try them both twice. He knew Chan would look great with either –both even. However neither were the exact shade of deep red he was striving for. 

“Seungmin-ah, stop eating it,” he nagged exasperatedly.

“Do you think if I kiss you, you’ll taste it too?”

“What’s with you and kissing today?”

“What? It’s not like we never have. And it’s a genuine question.” Seungmin licked his mouth again. “Does the tint transfer? Not just the taste, but the color too.”

“First of all, the deal was to the grave. I still don’t want Hyunjin hyung to ever know and I’m dating Minho now. You think you’ll live another day if hyung finds out?”

Seungmin’s russet eyes went round. “Oh shit.”

“Exactly.” Jisung nodded, point proven. “And second, well… I suppose, yeah. You wanna call Hyunjin over to try?” 

“Want a show, Sungie?” He annoyingly wiggled his brows. 

Jisung flipped him off. He grabbed the orange-looking tint. “Stay still. And stop fucking eating it.”

Hyunjin appeared a while after, with Felix in tow. “What are you two up to now?” 

“Jinnie, kiss me.” He made grabby-hands at his mate. Hyunjin glanced at Jisung. “Don’t mind him.”

“Yeah,” Jisung scoffed, making himself busy by searching for a small boiler pot. “Don’t mind me.” 

“What is this?” Felix picked up a lip tint bowl, bringing it up to his face to smell. 

“What’s that on your–” Hyunjin never managed to finish his question as Seungmin pulled him in by the collar of his shirt and kissed him square on the mouth with a loud smack.

“It transferred,” Seungmin concluded. 

Hyunjin touched his lips, wiping some tint off to inspect it. “Hmm.” He licked his lips. “Lip balm?”

“Sung’s calling it lip tint because of the colors.”

Felix stuck his finger in one, pulled out a large blob and stuck in his mouth. 

“Lixie no!” Jisung confiscated the bowl –he just had to eat the muted red one. “Seriously?”

Felix made a silly face as he swallowed. He emitted a happy noise, like he was eating candy and not a skin ointment. Felix scanned the other colors, but Jisung stuck out his arm in between. 

“Does each color taste different?”

“Nah, they’re all pretty much the same,” Seungmin answered. 

“Boo.” He pouted, his inner lip strikingly red. 

Jisung pulled his chin down to open his mouth, everything, even his teeth, was stained. “Your whole mouth’s red.”

“Awesome!”

Hyunjin picked out the bright pink tint from where Jisung wasn’t looking. He examined it up close, as if the bowl was more interesting than the balm, which was annoying since Hyunjin crafted it. 

“What’s it for?” the elder beta asked. 

“Courting gift,” Seungmin answered for him. 

“No,” he futilely denied. 

“Aww, Ji. It’s cute,” Felix cheerfully said as he latched onto Jisung’s back, just because he could. 

“I could make individual containers if you want. With lids to protect them from Felix,” Hyunjin offered.

“Hey!”

“Really? You’d do that?” Jisung cheered up.

“Yeah, as long as you make one for me and Seungmin.” He put some tint on his lips and turned to his mate. “How’d I look?”

“Tasty.” Seungmin dived in to lick his lips, making Hyunjin laugh. 

“Seungmin, for fuck’s sake,” Jisung shook his head, beyond exasperated. 

He wobbled around with Felix still glued to his back and picked up the dark red tint. It didn’t look as promising on Seungmin as he hoped for, but maybe he could test it on the others. Maybe with Felix he'd get his definitive answer, since the omega’s complexion was the closest to Chan’s milky skin from the trio. 

“Can I try this on you? But only if you promise not to eat it.” 

Felix raised his pinky in front of Jisung’s face. “Promise.”

After a while, Wooyoung, San and Yunho loudly appeared. 

“Lixie Pixie Honey Boop! We’ve been looking everywhere for ya! We’re heading to the river, wanna come?” Felix laughed as he accepted the invitation. Wooyoung squished the younger’s cheeks with both hands, puckering his now orange-tinted lips. “What’s this?”

“Lif-din.”

“What?”

“Lip tint,” Seungmin amended. 

“Is it like paint?” He presented the back of his hand for Felix to kiss, leaving an orange print of the younger’s lips. 

Yunho sniffed a bowl. “Honey balm?”

“Yeah, it's colored lip balm,” Hyunjin said, standing between his mate’s legs, his back towards Seungmin so the younger beta could perch his chin on his shoulder.

“Smells sweet like my Honey Boop.” Wooyoung booped Felix's button nose.

“Pucker up, Sannie,” Yunho said with a pink daub on the tip of his finger.

Jisung didn't mind the others inspecting and trying on the tints anymore. They were all smudged beyond repair and he already decided on making a new batch. 

He also had re-melted what was left of the dull red tint and added more powdery pigment. But the mixture didn't homogenize well, becoming clumpy and breaking apart as it solidified. Whether it failed because of the higher ratio of pigment-to-balm, or simply because reheating the balm overcooked some ingredients, Jisung didn't know. 

However, if more pigment wasn't the solution, then he needed to consider changing the one variable he kept equal in every extraction he made: the tree bark tannins. Seungmin said that oak worked well for red, but maybe it was enough for the water or liquid-oil based paint he made for Hyunjin’s art. Unlike those, the hardened balm wasn't transparent, but more cloudy white. So he needed something that rendered the absolutely brightest, purist, concentrated red. Oak bark boiled brownish tannins, so he wondered if red pine bark would yield a more reddish water for the hibiscus pigment extraction.

“You mind making me one, Jisungie?” Wooyoung asked as he popped up to his left. “I can trade it for that necklace I lent’ya. Hmm?”

Well, he did like how he looked with the abalone necklace –or more accurately, how Minho looked at him wearing it. 

“Okay.”

“Nice!” Wooyoung fist-bumped him. “You know, if you make more, I’ll make new jewelry you can gift to your boyfriends.” He winked. 

Jisung flustered. “O-oh… Uh, Chan hyung’s not–”

Wooyoung cackled. “I know, I know.” He pinched Jisung’s cheek, “You’re just too cute, Jisungie.”

He growled, swatting the other’s hand away, but that prompted Wooyoung to get all in his face and try to kiss his cheek with his red-tinted lips. His mate was no help at all, appearing at Jisung’s right to help cage him in and smooch his opposite cheek. It shocked Jisung so bad that Wooyoung managed to swoop in and plop a sticky-one. 

“Argh!” He squirmed and flailed dramatically.

The troublesome duo finally left him alone, cackling as they went away –San carrying Felix on his back as the trio walked into the forest. Seungmin and Hyunjin also had bailed at some point, leaving Jisung alone with Yunho. 

Jisung grumbled as he searched for a clean cloth to wipe his face, because getting sandwich-smooched by WooSan was not on his day plans. He used some disinfectant to make sure he’d rid off their scents.

“That bad?” Yunho asked with an amused chuckle. 

“San hyung’s scent is fine. It’s Wooyoung’s the problem.” 

Yunho laughed. “‘cause of Minho hyung?”

“Yep.” Jisung noticed a smudge of red on his work shirt and tried cleaning it off with the cloth, only to end up spreading the stain. “Aw, shit.”

“You know…” Yunho crossed his arm, hip against the counter to lean in as if he wasn’t already towering enough. “That might be a good thing?” 

“This?” he asked incredulously as he pulled his shirt. 

“Oh, no. That’s fucked. I meant the scents.” His suggestive smile turned wicked, “Could give your hyungs a lil’tease, make them jealous. Especially Chan hyung.”

Jisung scoffed. “Yeah, right. He’d never.”

“You haven’t noticed?” Jisung frowned at the devilish sparkle in the elder’s yellow eyes. “He gets this frown everytime I’m near’ya, especially if I touch’ya.” He poked Jisung’s forehead, but he quickly whacked his hand away. 

“You’re crazy.”

“Maybe,” he laughed. 

“Hyung’s territorial. That’s all.” Yunho looked unconvinced. “What? He is.”

The tall alpha shrugged. “He doesn’t act like that with the others, not with Jeonginnie, Lixie, or Seungs. Only you.” He hummed, eyes rolled to the sky in thought, “Well, and Minho hyung. It might be a territorial lead alpha thing, but it ain’t for his whole pack, I’ll tell you that.” 

Jisung really didn’t want to take the bait. He knew things were kind of weird with Chan now that they were going through this ‘scenting phase’. Even his pack had pointed out how much he stank of the leader. But to believe Chan would actually feel more possessive of him, to allude to such underlining sentiments, was absolutely preposterous. 

Yunho lifted his palms up in surrender, “Look, I was just throwin’ the idea out there. Take it or leave it. But if you don’t believe it, then you gotta at least try. You’ll never know if you don’t.” 

Jisung narrowed his eyes, trying to gauge for any dishonesty. But Yunho wasn’t like that. He was all fun and games. And up until now, only Minho reacted negatively to another wolf’s scent on him –mainly Wooyoung, but whether it was because of their odd frenemies relationship or because Wooyoung was an omega, he didn’t know. Maybe, well… Maybe there was some value in testing it out. 

“I don't want you to scent me.” 

“Fine,” Yunho said with an easy smile. “What if you wear my shirt?”

“Huh?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Can’t it be something normal? Like your seal-skin mantle?”

Yunho chuckled and took his shirt off –unprompted. 

“Dude, what? Right now?” 

“Your shirt’s dirty. Keep up, Jisungie.” 

Jisung rubbed his forehead, “Why am I listening to you?”

“‘cause I’m right.”

“Wrong.”

“Only one way to find out,” Yunho insisted, offering his shirt. 

Jisung hesitated for two split seconds. “Ugh, dude. This reeks,” Jisung wrinkled his nose. 

“The smellier, the better,” Yunho winked. 

“That's dumb. This is dumb. It’s, it’s not like I haven't worn anyone else's clothes before. It means nothing.”

“If it's meaningless, then it doesn't matter if you wear it or not.”

Fucking hell…

Jisung had no retort to that. Yunho smiled wider, gave a two-finger salute, and left towards the east side of the forest where the rest disappeared. 

Yunho’s shirt was too long on him, the hem going down to the middle of his thighs, and the smelly, strong patchouli-ginger itched his nose. He picked up his things and cleaned the workstation, stalling and gaining the courage to pull the dumb shit he was about to do. 

He knew Chan was helping out in the kitchen, so he picked up his stained shirt and marched his way over. Changbin gave him a weird look, nose flaring and brows twisted as he passed him by the campfire. Everyone in the kitchen looked at him weirdly. Even the aloof Yeosang –who was leaning against the counter, and chewing on some deer jerky that survived the winter munchies– side-eyed him with a confused frown. And Chan, who was elbows deep scrubbing the large pot Minho favored for soups and stews, stared. 

Oh, shit… Maybe Yunho was right.

Jisung pushed through the nervous jittering rising in his chest and searched for a bowl and a scrubbing brush with short, bamboo bristles. He tried scrubbing the stain out with soap, suds foaming red, but the stain remained. 

Shit. 

He felt Chan move from the other side of the counter to stand beside him, his hand, red and pruny from cleaning, heavily gripped onto Jisung’s shoulder. He went rigid, side-eyeing his hyung in surprise.

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m trying to get this stain out.”

“Blood?”

“No, it’s uh, pigment.” 

Chan stared at him, their faces so close that Jisung’s cursed bond did an annoying nosedive in his chest. He dialed down his scent to keep it in check and not give his nervousness away. 

Okay… Maybe this was a bad idea.  

“Hyung?”

“Why are you wearing Yunho’s shirt?” Chan asked with a frown. 

Jisung swallowed, “He let me borrow it.”

“Why?”

“I-I didn’t want to, uh, just–” He waved his shirt. “Thought I’d just clean this up real quick and then, uh, change.” The grip on his shoulder didn’t relax. 

“Where’s Yunho?”

“Uh, I don’t know, wolfing around?” He tried picking the stain off the shirt, but the red seeped into the natural fibers. “Do you remember how Hyunjin hyung got that purple stain out of his shirt?”

Chan didn’t reply. Frown still set between his brows as he kept staring, looking as if he was trying to figure something out from Jisung’s neck. 

Oh… He wanted to scent him. Of course. 

“Hyung?” Chan blinked slowly, nearly identical to Minho. “I’ll change if it bothers you.”

Chan shook his head, hand finally dropping to his side. “It’s okay. Um… Rice. I think. Dry rice starch to soak up the stain.” 

“Oh, okay.”

“You rub it in, form a paste. It takes a while. So, how about I do it for you and you go change.”

“No, I can–”

“Leave it there, I’ll be right back,” Chan ordered, giving him no chance to reply as he quickly left for the storage room. 

Jisung let out a long, tight breath. Well, shit… That was tense. And awkward. And a terrible, terrible idea. It confirmed what he knew. Obviously, Chan felt territorial about Jisung’s scent because he had been scenting him so damn much. Yunho’s scent was like another alpha challenging Chan. Nothing else. 

Suddenly Jisung’s gut swooped and shackles rose –an ominous presence had crept up behind him. He gulped dryly at the smell of bitter bergamot. Minho’s big chestnut eyes were dark and stony. 

“Ah, hyung, you scared me.”

Minho’s nose twitched. 

Fuck.

Without a word, Minho held him by the wrist and pulled him along. 

“Ow, ow, ow. Hyung–”

Jisung felt hot flames of embarrassment as everyone around watched him be forcefully dragged into the cave. 

Minho took a sharp turn left from the entrance, taking them to the washroom. It was empty inside and Minho shoved him into the stall, manhandling him all the way to the washing bench. 

“Take it off.”

“What?” 

“Take it off. Now.” 

Minho didn’t give him a choice, forcing the shirt off him and throwing it to the floor. Jisung covered himself, feeling too stunned and too exposed, mind reeling and heart thundering. Minho went to the pump to fill the bucket with water. 

Jisung couldn’t understand what was happening, why Minho reacted so harshly to a stupid shirt. He felt himself mildly disassociating, mind too fast to output any comprehensible thought, body jittering and cold all too sudden. 

Minho handed him the soap, but it looked too far away to take.  

“No.”

“No?” Minho repeated, an eyebrow curled upwards.  

“No,” Jisung said more firmly. “What is this? What, what…”

His boyfriend huffed out through his nose, irritated. “Why were you wearing Yunho’s shirt?” 

“Because mine got dirty and I was trying to clean it.”

“And you couldn’t go get one of your own?” Minho raised his voice.

“It was faster!” 

Minho scoffed at him. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it’d be such a big deal.”

“Big deal?” Minho said incredulously. “You were wearing some other alpha’s shirt!” 

“It’s just Yunho, for the Moon’s sake!” Jisung felt exasperated, crossing his arm as best as he could while keeping the better part of his ribs covered. “Would you’ve preferred I walked around shirtless?”

“Yes! You have before.”

Jisung stammered, not expecting that answer from his stupid argument, “That– that was different.”

“How?”

“I…” Shit. “I didn’t look like this.”

Minho blinked, repeatedly, “Like what?” 

“Like…” 

Shit, shit shit. 

His scent poured. He lost his grip. Jisung curled into himself, fruitlessly trying to hide. Minho’s frown morphed into worry. He stepped closer. 

“I looked good then,” Jisung confessed, voice barely above a whisper. 

“You look good now.” But Jisung didn’t believe him, shaking his head in denial. “Sungie, are you embarrassed of your body?” Minho asked softly, almost as if he didn’t dare to. “Sungie, hey, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

He shook his head again, unable to meet his gaze. He was working hard on gaining his muscles back, but his ribs still poked out funny, his arms remained deflated, and his tummy was in that obnoxious state between flat and squishy. 

“I don’t look my best right now. And, and Yunho hyung, he just lent me his shirt. That’s it.” A little bit of a lie, a little bit of a truth, the net damage would be null –right?. “Besides…you only looked at me when I bulked up.”

Minho was taken aback. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” he insisted. “Hyung, your mate is literally chiseled. I look nothing like him.” 

He let out a huff, shrugging his shoulders with it. “Can you fault a man for appreciating some well sculpted ass and tits?” 

“No,” Jisung said with a tsk. Because, really, he was a man of the same breed. “But you can’t deny the fact that you never paid attention to me before I got bigger. You never said or did anything before–”

“Because you were off limits!” 

Jisung was stunned silent, watching as Minho had to catch his breath. Only then did Jisung notice the heat in his hyung’s scent. 

“You– I… I never thought I could have you like that, Jisung-ah. I never let myself dream of it.” He stepped closer, and Jisung fell captive to his dark eyes. “And it’s not that I suddenly found you attractive because you got buff. It was because you matured.” 

“Oh…”

“You were a pup for so long, Sungie,” he said, closer, until Jisung felt the words on his skin. “It took me a while to stop seeing you as one.”

He swallowed down his erratic heartbeat when Minho lightly touched his shoulder, a shiver ran through him as his fingers feathered down his arm. Minho pulled his hand away from clutching his crossed arm and, finally, Jisung stopped hiding his skinny self. Jisung‘s skin heated up under the path of Minho's gaze, looking him over, across every inch of his body.

“I’d have sex with you, right here, right now, if you let me.” 

A clipped shriek and a crash startled them. 

“Please don’t, please don’t!” Yeosang yelled as he ran out of the washroom. More voices of concern popped up.

Jisung’s heart dropped –they had left the stall door open. Minho corrected that mistake, sliding it shut. But the commotion outside grew. 

“Not again Lee Minho!” Changbin’s booming voice broke through the crowd. “You will not take Sungie’s innocence in there! He deserves better!”

Never in his life had Jisung seen Minho’s face contort with so much wrath. His hyung slammed the door open and marched out, loudly cursing Changbin to hell and back. 

Jisung was shaking, face hot, skin cold and prickled with goosebumps. There was so much noise, so much screaming, he couldn’t make a word out of it. Jeongin briefly poked his head inside to check. And then Chan was rushing inside. He quickly scanned him over and took out a towel to wrap around his shoulders. Jisung vaguely managed to squeak out an ‘okay’ when prompted to speak. Chan ushered him outside with a hand on his lower back and shielded him with his body from the wolves in the entrance and main hall as he was taken to his leader’s room. 

Minho was already inside, sitting on the edge of the bed, face still red and furious. Chan made him sit beside him and then rushed out again. 

Jisung’s rattled mind slowly managed to reboot and process the last few minutes of chaos. He went over Minho’s unrestrained anger, their tricky conversation that didn’t seem to answer anything and yet brought forward new things for them to explore. Then all the yelling, Changbin accusing Minho of repeating–

Wait. Repeat?

“Hyung, have you and Chan hyung had sex in the washroom?” 

Minho’s flush had diminished, but now his ears turned bright red and he hesitated, making the answer all too clear. Jisung looked forward, his brain wiring the knowledge that his hyungs got freaky in the communal areas to never, ever forget. 

He felt like he was going to implode. He got way more than what he bargained for. Fuck you Jeong Yunho and your bitchass ideas, for the Moon, what the fuck–

“Sungie,” Minho whispered, lightly tapping his arm with the back of his finger, almost as if he was too unsure if he was allowed to touch him. 

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry I got mad,” he said with difficulty. He swallowed hard, like something was stuck in his throat. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”

For the Moon, it was unfair how pretty he looked with his round, apologetic eyes and pouty lips. Jisung felt like shit, he didn’t mean to disregard his feelings and hurt him. He never wanted to see his hyung angered like that again.

“I’m sorry I didn’t consider your feelings. I shouldn’t have worn his stupid shirt.” 

Minho shook his head, no. “Yunho’s our friend. I shouldn't have reacted like that. I… I don’t know…why I…”

Jisung’s bond ached seeing Minho so small and insecure. He held onto his boyfriend’s hand and dipped in to poke his nose to his shoulder. He rubbed his cheek against him too, wanting nothing more than to soothe Minho.

“You're everything to me, hyungie. It's only you– it's only ever going to be you and Channie hyung,” he kissed his shoulder, “Always.” 

Minho smiled in a small and tender way, his chestnut eyes glistening so much that Jisung saw galaxies in them. His boyfriend raised their joined hands and kissed the inside of his wrist –right where Chan’s tattoo would be. 

Love. That’s what he was telling him. 

“I love you too.” 

He rested his cheek on his hyung’s shoulder. Minho leaned his head on his. And then everything was quiet.

Chan came back inside, the lines of his face tired with stress. He stood before them, leaning against the wall, watching them. For a moment that was all they did. And then Chan let out a big breath. 

“Well that was something.”

“I’m sorry,” Minho said, hardly meeting his mate’s gaze. “I embarrassed you.”

“You didn’t.”

“Hyung.” Minho deadpanned. 

Chan looked away, shifting his weight on his feet. “Okay, maybe it was a little embarrassing.”

“Did you tell Changbin to not meddle in our business?” 

“I told him to be more tactful with voicing his concerns.” Minho scoffed. “Minho-yah… That was not okay. We’ve talked about this.” Chan hesitated, briefly glancing at Jisung. “You can’t break in front of them.” 

Minho looked abashed, glancing between them. Jisung felt out of place, clearly his leaders needed a moment alone. 

“Should I leave?” he offered, but Minho’s hold tightened. 

“No,” Chan sighed and moved to the wooden chest. He picked out a shirt, rubbed the collar against his scent glands and made him wear it. It was one of Minho’s shirts, but now Jisung smelled like a mix of both his hyungs and less of Yunho’s itchy scent. “Come with me.” 

Jisung accepted his hand, but Minho held him down. Chan sighed. “Minho, let him go. I just want to talk with him.” Minho shook his head, scent turning sour. “Just give us a moment. Then meet us at the red pine.”

“Hyungie, it’s okay.”

“Min. Please.”

Finally his boyfriend let go, sulking for being left alone. Chan pulled him up onto his feet and didn’t let go as he led him out of the cave. Jisung kept his head down, not wanting to meet eyes with the curious packs. When they ventured into the thicket, Jisung felt his nerves unspool. 

“I’m sorry, hyung.”

“What for?” 

“I dunno, everything. For wearing Yunho’s stupid shirt.” Chan didn’t look phased, which sucked because Jisung didn’t know how to sound more convincing. “I didn’t mean for Minho hyung to get upset like that.”

“You’re not in trouble, Jisung-ah,” Chan said, leading him into the small clearing where the ancient red pine stood. “We’re stepping out to give Minho some time to process. Alone. He’s angry, but he's closed off–” Chan touched his chest, where his mating bond connected him to Minho’s emotions. “He’s ignoring the real reason he got mad, because he doesn’t want to upset you more. So let’s give him time to cool down and think about his feelings.” They reached the rocks under the shade of the pine. “Sit.”

Jisung did, stiffly, awkwardly. Chan sat down a little further, enough to turn around to face him. 

“Minho’s grown a lot,” Chan said, leaning back as he looked at the canopy. “But old habits are hard to break, especially the ones forged for survival. He grew up learning to fight. To be quick to anger and defend himself –even if he doesn’t understand why. Punch first, ask later.” 

“The way of the Lee’s?” 

Chan nodded with a small smile, his green eyes doing this dreamy thing where he seemed lost in a memory. “Has he ever told you how we first met?”

“I don’t think so…”

Chan’s smile widened in the enamoured way he got for Minho. “He broke my nose.”

“Ahh,” Jisung chuckled, finally feeling the tightness in his chest lessen. “He might’ve mentioned that, but he never told me how it happened.”

“It was my fault.”

“Really?”

“Well…It wasn’t one of my proudest moments.” He chuckled. “He lived close to my parental pack, back when he was on his own. I noticed him a few days before and followed him. I was just trying to get his attention, but I got too close. He just smelled so divine I couldn’t help myself.”

“Hyung,” Jisung reproached. 

“I know, I know. It wasn’t okay and I got punched in the face for it,” Chan still had that besotted look in his eyes, as if it was one of the best moments of his life. “Minho felt bad after realizing I was still a pup, even if I was older than him. He let Changbin and I hang out with him after that. Or, actually, hang around him.”

Jisung couldn’t help but feel all warm and fuzzy inside as he listened. There was something so pure and endearing whenever Chan spoke of his past with Minho. 

“So a punch was all it took, hyung? Is that what you’re hinting at?”

“Shut up,” Chan laughed, shoving him. “What I’m trying to teach you is that, under stress, Minho’s first instinct is to fight and it comes out in ways you least expect it.”

“Like dragging me all the way into the washroom?”

Chan made a complicated face, “Yes.”

“And he’s doing better?”

“Yes, he is.” 

Well, considering all his bones remained intact, then Jisung could feel reassured his hyung was telling the truth. 

“Look, I’m not excusing his reaction, that wasn’t okay. But what you did, you wearing Yunho’s clothes, that rattled something inside of him.”

Jisung picked at his knee, feeling like he disappointed his hyungs. “I’m sorry. I, uh, didn’t mean to disregard Minho’s claim.”

Chan shook his head. “We’re all friends, Sungie. Sharing clothes is important for new couples, yeah, but between us packs, it shouldn’t warrant such a reaction.”

“Is… Is he jealous?” 

“I think it’s more than that.” Chan absentmindedly rubbed his chest. “I’m not sure what. So we’re going to have to wait for him to figure it out. Okay?” 

“Yes, hyung.” He slouched, keeping himself small. “I still hate that I did that, though.”

Chan looked him over, eyes stern in his leader-like way. “Did you do it on purpose?”

Jisung fought hard to keep eye-contact. “Yunho offered his shirt. And I… I could’ve done something else. I could’ve gone back for one of my own. I shouldn’t have…I shouldn’t have done that.”

But Chan shook his head again. “I’m not telling you this to make you second-guess every decision you make. I’m telling you because I want you to understand Minho better. I’m telling you because I care and I don’t want mishaps like this one to damage your relationship.”  

Jisung fell silent, his cursed bond stinging him as, once again, Chan proved him to be the best person he knew. Too kind, too caring, too damn forgiving. 

“Um, so… Come to think of it, this is why Minho kept pushing you last winter.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you…” he sighed, “When you synched first and you were hiding it. He kept pushing. But he wasn’t letting himself understand why, he just knew he needed to get something out of you. He kept thinking you were hurting and it hurt him too.” Chan’s eyes turned soft, in a way that made Jisung feel small. “It’s like there’s something about you that Minho can’t ignore.”

Something big enough to completely alter his hyungs’ relationship, he thought, the guilt of coming between their relationship creeping up his throat again. 

“I’m so–”

“Don’t apologize.”

Jisung snapped his mouth shut, teeth clacking together. “But–”

“What?” Chan grinned, amused at him, “Were you going to apologize for my mate being in love with you? We’re way past that, Sungie.”

“So–” Chan deadpanned at him. “Okay… okay.”

Their conversation lulled into a comfortable end. Chan leaned his weight on his hands, facing the sky to bask under the filtered sunlight. He couldn’t fathom how Chan could be so relaxed after all the chaos he caused. 

He was so beautiful, gorgeous inside and out.

“Hyung.”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you. For everything.” 

Chan blinked his eyes open, staring right at him. His green eyes shined bright, soaking up all the warmth of the sun and reflecting it towards him. Jisung felt warm all over, melting inside, his cursed bond heavy in a good way.

Whatever reply his hyung had was cut off as his attention turned to the trees where Minho appeared. He looked calm, composed, yet his eyes looked lost. He carried a big satchel with him. They both got up to meet him halfway.  

“Can we stay out for the day?” Minho asked, shrugging his satchel, “I brought food.”

“Yeah, of course.” Chan pushed Jisung by his shoulders, handing him off to his mate, “I think it’ll do you guys well to have some time away from the packs.” 

Minho gripped his wrist. “You too, Channie.”

Chan smiled like sweet, gooey honey. “Okay.” He took the satchel from his mate to carry it instead and interlocked their hands. 

The trio walked away from the clearing.

Jisung held onto Minho’s other hand, “Where are we going, hyungie?”

“There’s a hill with cherry blossoms.” He gently squeezed his hand and drew him closer. “What do you think?”

“Perfect.” Jisung leaned into his side. “There’s no place I’d rather be.”

Minho stuttered.

“Wow, you really are cheesy,” Chan laughed. 

“Shut up, you’re ruining the mood.”

“Hey!”

“I regret this,” Minho groaned, dragging his feet. “Let’s go back.”

“Noo. I wanna see this hill covered in cherry blossoms,” Jisung insisted, pulling Minho along with Chan. “Where is it?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Too bad, I do,” Chan grinned, leading them the rest of the way. 

And really, between the two of them, Minho stood no chance. 

The day might have started completely out of whack, but Jisung was at an all time happiness. He truly could not imagine being anywhere else than with the two he loved most. 

Chapter Text

He’d given Minho space to sort his feelings and figure out what brought on his reaction to Jisung’s ‘harmless’ stunt. He prodded here and there, every now and then, to prompt Minho in motion, earning a mix of vague replies and silent grumbles.

Until one night, he came to their room to find his mate sprawled upside-down on their bed, head nearly hanging off the edge. Chan went to change clothes, looking for a shirt. 

“I can’t feel him,” Minho said, apropos nothing. 

That alone stopped Chan, shirt forgotten as he stared at his mate. Minho kept his gaze to the cave ceiling, face passive even though their bond stirred. Chan went to stand by the bed, looking at him from above. He could feel the discomfort in his chest and see the apprehension in his beautiful, brown eyes. 

“I can’t feel Jisung like I feel you.”  

Chan let out a sigh as he sat down on the floor, legs sore from running a perimeter check. He leaned on the bed, slipping his hand over his mate’s chest. His heart drummed fast. 

“It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid, Min.”

Minho swallowed the words stuck in his throat. A twinge of jealousy pinched at their bond, just like it had when the whole Yunho-shirt incident happened. Chan pillowed his head with his arm, watching, feeling, giving him the time to line up his ideas and express himself. 

He could observe Minho forever. The straight slope of his nose. The pucker of his rosy lips. His brows, downturned into a frown; long lashes, endless, fluttering prettily with every blink. 

Minho huffed out a breath. “I hate feeling like this.”

“It’s normal to feel insecure sometimes, love.”

“I never felt this way with you.” Minho turned his head to look at him, his dark eyes glistening. He threaded their fingers together, “I always feel so sure with you.”

Chan hesitated to speak. His first instinct was to use logic and put things into perspective for Minho. He had been open about his affections and intended to mate with Minho since the beginning; he barely left Minho's side, he even made sure to visit daily while still living with his parents; it was just them and Changbin, there weren’t any other wolves to feel jealous about or threatened as competition –no one to interfere with their courtship; they were mated for over a year before expanding their pack. 

But he stayed silent, giving Minho the space to keep speaking. 

“With Jisung it’s… I just…I don’t know what goes on inside him… And his preference is different, I think. Or, I don’t know, maybe he doesn't even have one.” He let out an annoyed huff, “Smelling of another alpha like that. And Yunho’s kind of…easy? I mean– you know what I mean. And I know it’s stupid, but I thought maybe he, he…” He stared at Chan with some sort of desperation. 

Chan’s mind whirred to make sense. 

“You think he’s into alphas more?” he asked, stunned and voice going weird with how in disbelief he was. “Than you?”

Minho’s cheeks puffed out, irritated. “I know it’s stupid.”

“I didn’t say it’s stupid. It’s just…hard to believe.”

“Is it?” Minho argued. “He liked you first.”

“Min–”

“He liked you first. For so long. If we didn’t share scents, then he would never have fallen for me.” Chan felt an echo of hurt through their bond. Minho shook his head, “I don’t like thinking that, but it’s true.”

“He loves you. He loves you, I see it.”

“I know he does. I don't doubt that. I just…”  He pinched the bridge of his nose, “I know I’m not making any sense. I don’t know why I keep thinking about it. I…”

“Hey,” Chan pulled his hand away and cupped the side of his face, “You can't always rationalize your feelings. You just…You caught onto a thread and pulled too strong, and this is what it unraveled.”

“That’s a rather poetic way to put it,” Minho commented with a pinched face. “I don’t know why I… I thought I got over it. Even if it’s a fact, even if it happened that way, it doesn’t take away from him loving me.” He turned onto his side, holding Chan’s wrist. “And I like that it's the both of us, because I don't think I could've done any of this without you.”

As unique as their situation was, Chan also found solace in that. Being by Minho’s side every step of his new relationship reassured him of the unwavering strength of their bond. He got to feel Minho’s happiness with Jisung; their burgeoning love exponential and contagious. 

It settled right with his decisions and soothed his old grievances with change. It made moments like this, where he tried his best to support them, easier. 

“He might've had feelings for me first. But you're his first boyfriend. And, well, his first everything,” he assured him, leaning closer. “I am your first everything too. But you'll experience new firsts with Sungie. No tall alphas with stinky shirts will ever take that from you. He’s yours to experience everything with.” 

Minho smiled, soft yet not quite all there, with something wistful in his gleaming eyes. His heart less agitated, but not fully abated. 

“I know he’s mine, but he doesn’t feel like it. Not like I feel you, Channie,” he whispered, pulling Chan’s hand to speak against it. “And I’m never going to.” 

With a heavy chest, Chan didn’t know what to say. So he did the best he could. He pulled Minho down, his mate easily slithering into his arms and settling between his legs. He held him dearly, feeling all the places their bodies touched, and kissed the crown of his head.  

“You have to talk to him about this.”

“I can’t.”

“Min, he’s been worried.”

“I can’t. I don’t want him to feel bad over something he can’t control.” He curled into himself, leaning his head onto Chan’s chest. “I’ll get over it. I have to.”

Chan rubbed his arm, letting the silence engulf them for a moment as he gave it some thought. 

“You could tell him about how you feel disconnected, that you’re not used to it. He’d understand.” 

“It’ll make me sound insecure,” he mumbled. “I hate that.”

“But you are.”

“I shouldn't be.” 

Chan leveled a breath. He poked his chin against his mate’s head. “You work through it together.”

Minho’s silence was sullen. He could feel it like an uncomfortable churn in their bond. Chan let him be, knowing his mate’s mind was scampering for excuses. 

“It won't be nice to hear.”

“It doesn't matter if it's not nice. You just have to be sincere.”

Minho lightly bit the underside of his jaw, only to place an apologetic kiss over it. He'd given up on arguing, because Chan was right. And his mate was going to have to step up and communicate with Jisung in order to nurture a healthy relationship. 

Chan wondered, briefly, what it would be like if no longer could feel his mate. No mating bond uniting their hearts. Their connection deepened their understanding of each other. Through glimpses of their inner feelings, it elucidated complicated moments, spoke through unsaid words, forged empathy and consideration –and much, much more. Without it, Chan would feel lost. Incomplete and unable to function. 

He despised the mere thought of it. Uncomfortable, nerves frying and heart burning to even picture it.

But what Minho felt must've been an unsettling dissonance between a strong and intertwined link with Chan, and a longing for Jisung. It was a yearning engendered in their nature, an instinctual drive to solidify a claim of love through a mating bond. No matter how much his mate loved their young alpha, the longing to connect would still be there. 

And they've been together for so long, it made sense that Minho grew used to the perpetual presence of their mating bond –as Chan had as well. His mate heavily relied on their connection to communicate when words would fail him. Without having this hyperphysical way to perceive Jisung, it was easy to understand why Minho felt insecure.

Chan couldn’t deny he never thought about the possibility of Minho completing a second bond without severing their own, becoming mated to two separate wolves. Ever since their last cycle and the delayed bond-break, he wondered about why and how; and ifs and maybes. He hadn’t dared to bring it up again with his mate, not after how bad Minho took it. No, Minho had been too scared to break what they built together, the years of love and devotion. But what if his beautiful mate was capable of loving more? What if Minho could truly be mated to two wolves? 

However, he wasn’t confident he could share the one thing of Minho that was solely his. And yet… And yet Minho mattered to him infinitely more than his own selfishness. 

“Do you believe in soulmates?” he whispered. Minho looked at him, brows furrowed in confusion. “Wolves you're meant to be with, in any shape or form.”

Minho's frown deepened and he tucked his head down. “Don't be silly, hyung,” he reprimanded, punctuating his displeasure with a bite to Chan’s chest. 

But if being hopeful was silly, then Chan was a fool. 

“Could you imagine Jisung falling in love with Changbin if he loved Felix? Or Hyunjin if he had fallen for Seungmin?”

“... No.”

Chan smiled because it was true. “Me neither. That he fell for us just feels right. Like it was meant to be.” 

His mate grumbled under his breath. He held onto him tight, as if he'd fall apart without him. “Don't put ideas in my head.”

Chan didn't need to. Instead, he placed more kisses on the top of his head. 

The next morning had been long and eventful. The early hours passed with him chopping smaller firewood for Hyunjin’s work furnace, collecting sap water with Changbin and Mingi, and then sharpening Minho’s knives at the crowded camp fire. Nearly everyone who gathered there had some small, handy task to busy themselves with, whether it was making, mending or maintaining. It was simple to flow through the monotonous task with the endless chatter of the packs. Jisung certainly set the mood as he tried teaching Jeongin to play the ocarina –a belated presentation gift. 

Chan caught himself staring. Drawn in by Jisung’s sunny energy and heart-shaped smile. His merriful laugh whenever Jeongin played off-tune. His words of praise and encouragement swelled his heart, as if he was the one receiving them by proxy.

However, his instincts became alert when Yunho walked by, casual and with an unrestrained smile. The tall alpha fed Jeongin a motivational cheer and praised Jisung’s skills. Chan watched with his chest growing tight as Yunho ruffled Jisung’s hair. His young alpha playfully complained and ducked out of reach, but it was Jeongin who reacted harshly, snarling and baring his teeth towards Yunho’s arm. Chan jumped into action, barking at Yunho to back off and pulling his youngest’s by the throat to steer him away from the camp fire. 

He shifted his grip to his scruff, leading him towards the empty workstation. Jeongin growled and hissed, grumbled and whined, with his shoulders slouched as he stomped all the way. 

“Jeongin. No.”

“I wasn't going to bite–”

“No.”

Jeongin puffed out his cheeks and crossed his arms. Chan had to take a breath as well. He didn't want to lecture him, because he wanted to do the same and growl at Yunho to stay away and stop touching his Jisung. But Chan had no claim. Not yet. No matter how much he scented his young alpha, it didn’t warrant fighting another alpha off, much less a friend being friendly. And touchy. Awfully touchy. 

As for Jeongin, well, despite settling ranks he still had these random bouts of either being overprotective or displaying dominance over Jisung. It was confounding. Chan needed to find a solution to curb his behaviour soon, before Jisung would snap again.

He caught Changbin making his way in his periphery. Chan felt relieved to have his second alpha’s assistance. 

He directed Jeongin a stern look and made his voice sound authoritative, “No growling. No snarling. No teeth. No threatening our friends, Jeongin-ah. Yunho is our friend.”  

Jeongin grouched, “But he was bothering him.”

“They are friends.”

“Jisung hyung didn’t like it.”

“He was just playing–”

“You didn’t like it.” 

Chan fell speechless. Breath painfully stuck between his ribs as he stared at his youngest who wouldn’t meet his gaze. 

Was Jeongin defending Jisung for him?  

Chan opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He couldn’t bear to ask such a thing. The implications it would bring, the embarrassment, to have his youngest pack member be more assertive over the wolf courting him than himself. The shame to acknowledge it shriveled his pride. And if it were true, Chan didn't even want to begin to consider the sheer amount of behavioral correction he’d have to subject his youngest to ensure he’d stop. 

Instead, he recited the same mantra he kept telling himself. 

“Jeongin-ah… That’s still not right. It’s not your place to jump in when he never asked for help. You can’t impose yourself just because you feel like it. It’s unfair to Jisung.”

Jeongin still wouldn’t face him, his scent shied away, embarrassed. Chan lightly nudged his shoulder first, making sure he was fine with the contact before holding onto him. Changbin silently sidled up next to him. 

“Is there a reason why you feel the urge to protect him?” Jeongin gave a noncommittal shrug. “He hasn’t gotten hurt again and he’s healthier by the day.”

“I know.”

“He’s ranked higher than you. You should be treating him as such.”

“I know he's ranked higher, but he doesn't smell like it. It's confusing,” he grumbled the last bit.

Chan froze. He looked at Changbin for support. But where he expected comradery, he was given a captious look, as in Changbin agreed with his youngest. Chan felt a sharp sense of failure tugging down his shoulders. 

Changbin shook his head, clapped Chan’s shoulder and whispered to him, “You could tone it down with the scenting, hyung.”

He growled at his daring second. Changbin stepped away and lifted his hands in surrender. 

“Just because I scent Jisung, doesn’t mean I’m knocking down his rank. Understood?” He gave them both a scathing look, sounding more stern than intended. But his ego burned.

Jeongin furiously nodded, still incapable of meeting his gaze. While Changbin lowered his head in acquiescence. 

Chan took in a harsh breath to calm his scent down. He hated getting mad at his pack, but he couldn’t risk having any other reason for Jisung to doubt what they were doing.

He lightly pulled up Jeongin’s chin, finally looking into his icy eyes. His youngest looked saddened with guilt and shame. This was not what Chan wanted. 

“Innie, what we’re doing is different and necessary. And I know it goes against what your instincts tell you, but this…this is important to me. I need you to trust me and to try to be a little more understanding.” 

“Mm’kay,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, buddy. I'm sorry this hasn't been easy for you.” He spoke softer, feeling his insides churn at how his youngest’s eyes glistened. “I know you’re still struggling with knowing when to listen to your instincts and when to filter them out. You shouldn’t have to be alert and fighting all the time, much less within your pack. Being so wound up will only bring you stress, Innie.” 

Jeongin bit on his lower lip to keep it from wobbling and tucked his chin down. He surprised Chan, taking a step closer to lay his forehead against his shoulder. Slowly and carefully, Chan brushed his silky hair. 

“Hyung will help you. Promise. I just need a little time to figure out how.”

As much as it bothered him to not have a solution at hand, he would do whatever it took to guide Jeongin into becoming a sensible and confident alpha. 

Changbin remained silent, observing with his arms crossed, until Jeongin settled down and stepped away. His second alpha checked on him before draping an arm over his youngest’s shoulders, forcing him to hunch down to compensate for the height difference. It was a subtle, friendlier way for Changbin to physically display his rank over the other. 

“You mind I have a little chat with this punk?” Changbin asked. 

“No. No, sure, go ahead.”

Changbin nodded, steadfast and reliable. “Oh, and Yeosang needs help with something. Could you?”

“Yes, I will.” 

Walking away towards the entrance, he tried to shake off the weird and convoluted feelings jumbling his mind. He understood where Changbin was coming from; why he faulted Chan for this mess. If he hadn't been scenting Jisung so often and so aggressively, then Jeongin’s nature wouldn't have ever gotten confused –much less after Jisung won their posturing. 

But he didn't want to stop scenting Jisung. Not now when they’ve been getting along better. Not when his inner alpha recognized Jisung as his and as Minho’s partner. 

He seriously needed to redirect Jeongin’s protectiveness away from Jisung, and have him focus on something else –something manageable to help him balance out the territorial instincts. 

Yeosang cheered up as he stepped closer, “Channie hyung!”

“I heard you need some help?”

“I can’t find my pin.”

“Your pin?”

“Yeah, my pin.” 

Chan had no clue where to start looking, but he did his best. 

They spent the better part of an hour looking for Yeosang's hairpin, only for him to realize it had been in his pocket all along. Chan smiled, as polite as he could, as he excused himself away. 

He was ready for the day to be over. Done. But there was always something to do. 

Scraping dried bones into small shavings was what he busied himself in the end. He sat alone at the workstation, repurposing the waste into fertilizer for their crops. He used that time to think. But his mind remained stuck while the bone shavings piled. 

Hyunjin went to the work furnace with a basket full of feathers. He used dipping tongs to pull out a heated ceramic and carefully placed a feather to burn into the side, decorating the vase with its charred silhouette. He kept placing feathers in a strategic way, bringing to life the design from his creative mind. He continued doing the same for a set of small circular containers, feather-burning each in a unique way.

Suddenly Chan had a solution. 

He stood, but the few steps he took somehow led him into taste-testing Wooyoung’s new sauce recipe for the fried pheasant they were planning for lunch. Then he popped a jar open for Felix, showed San where they kept the spare wood chisels, and helped Seungmin and Jongho transplant a maple tree that randomly grew in their sweet potato garden. 

After being dragged into the kitchen a second time to taste-test –because his approval was paramount– Chan finally got a pause to simply breathe. He realized he hadn’t seen Minho around for a while now. Nor Jisung. And his bond felt weird, muffled, like Minho was trying hard to keep from sharing too much. 

He followed to where their connection felt strongest, leading him back into their room. Quiet mumbles filtered through the thick drapes. He didn’t think twice before entering. They were lying on top of the bed, curled and facing each other, mirrored like two opposing raindrops. Jisung’s back towards him. 

“I can do that for you,” Jisung promised. 

“You're sure it's fine?” Minho whispered.

“Of course it is. Nine years, hyungie, of course you're so used to it.” 

Chan dithered about interrupting their quiet moment. But Minho’s dark eyes caught him, gazing over Jisung’s frame. The warm tug from his mate propelled him closer. Jisung turned his head when he noticed, his eyes misty and mouth in a small pout. 

“What’s wrong?” he worried, kneeling on the bed just behind his young alpha. 

“Can you believe he thought I liked Jeong Yunho?” Jisung complained, hands to his chest as if it physically hurt him. 

Minho rolled his eyes. “I didn't say that.”

“You might as well have.” Jisung pouted further, hazel eyes round in that cute, attention-grabbing way, playing out his innocence for Chan’s favor.

Chan’s concern dissipated for amusement. Using Yunho’s clan name caught his attention, though he had a hard suspicion that Minho had something to do with it.

“He said he couldn’t tell what my intentions were when wearing Jeong Yunho’s shirt. Like, seriously? Hyung, I don’t even like his scent.”

“You don’t?” he asked, playing along. 

“Nope. It makes my nose itchy –and not in a cute way.”

Minho flicked his nose. Jisung yelped and wiggled closer to Chan, seeking his protection. 

“Minho-ya,” he sighed. But his mate’s happiness warmed their bond.

He checked on Jisung. A light redness spread on the tip of his small nose. It was a pretty nose, Chan noticed. They both had distinctive noses, Minho’s angled, sharp and pointy; Jisung’s tall and slim with a soft slope. Jisung twitched his nose in an irrefutably cute way. Most of him was cute, which made it hard for Chan to see past his youthfulness to find something more. 

The redness spread to Jisung’s cheek before Chan realized he had been looming over him for too long. He turned his attention back to his mate, who stared at them with a raised brow. 

“So…” he tried to sound nonchalant and reached over Jisung to poke Minho's forehead, fully knowing his hand would end up between his teeth. “You guys talked it out?”

“Yeah, we're good,” Jisung said after a beat. “Though I don't know what else to do to make my Jelly Jam feel better.”

“Jelly Jam?” 

Jisung's eyes crinkled with mischief, “His scent, hyung. It’s like marmalade.”

Chan had to bite his lower lip to keep from outright laughing. Minho glared at them, his annoyance bubbled affection in Chan's chest. But he needed to redirect Minho's grumpiness before he lost a digit.

“I think there's something we can do. But I need my hand, Min.” Minho gave an extra chomp, his gummy teeth showing as he scrunched his nose. Cute. He shook the sting from his hand, leveling a conspiratorial look at his mate. “I think we let you off the hook too easily, Sungie.”

“What?” Jisung’s eyes shook. “Bu-but hyung…”

“Hmm?”

Jisung blinked owlishly. His hands curled at his chest, acting as innocent as possible with his belly up. “My compassionate, merciful, forgiving hyung.” 

“Yeah?”

“You said I wasn't in trouble for that.” 

“You’re not.” He smiled, stealthily reaching for Jisung’s arms. “But I think it’s long overdue you get a reminder of who you belong to before you think of wearing someone else’s scent. Right, Min?” 

At the cue, his mate pounced and ran his fingers up and down Jisung’s sides. The scream Jisung let out was downright ear-splitting, as if Minho clawed out his liver instead of tickling him. Jisung kicked as Chan kept his arms up and out of Minho’s path. Minho sat on his legs to keep him contained, his fingers merciless as they dug into his armpits. His devilish smile blinding as their bond warmed with delight. Chan laughed harder as Jisung’s screams grew louder.

“Ah! Hyu-Ah! Please!” He wriggled with all his might, but he had nowhere to go. “Sto-ahp! Stop! Ah! I’m suh-sorry-ha! Iwondoit-ah-gain! Ple-ease!”

“What the hell are you doing to him!” Hyunjin yelled as he barged into their room, chest heaving. Hongjoong popped in under his arm, brandishing a netting shuttle as a weapon. 

They all froze. 

Hyunjin’s frantic eyes gradually softened, his shoulders relaxing, as he made sense of what he was seeing. Minho slid off of Jisung, prompting Chan to free his arms. Jisung smoothed down his shirt from where it had risen. 

After a beat, Hyunjin rubbed his face, letting out an annoyed grunt. “Jisung, could you be any more dramatic?” he said exasperatedly. “I thought they were torturing you in here.”

“Oh, I don’think Ji woulda mind if they did,” Honjoong commented with a salacious smile.  

“Get out,” Chan ordered. 

Hyunjin raised his hands in the air as he made his loud retreat. Hongjoong winked at them as he backed away and out of their room. 

They didn’t speak for a moment. Both Minho and Jisung were so red. Jisung covered his face and made a weird, wailing noise. It was all so ridiculous, Chan couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Stop. I’m so embarrassed,” Jisung complained. 

Chan poked his side. “You didn’t have to be so loud.” 

“Why are you being mean? You’re too pretty to be mean.” 

“Shut up,” he laughed at the ill-timed flirt, shoving his young alpha away. 

Jisung half-rolled into his mate’s lap. Minho pushed him onto his back and swung a leg on his stomach, punching an umph out of their young alpha. Jisung held onto his mate’s knee and looked up at him with a pitiful pout. Minho smiled smugly, leaning back on his hands. 

They kept talking, but their voices fell muted as Chan fixated on Jisung’s hands. He didn’t smooth his hand along Minho’s thigh like Chan would have. He didn’t try to feel him up, squeeze, caress, scratch, fondle or tickle. Only his thumbs rubbed Minho's knee. Chan couldn’t comprehend why it felt wrong to him that Jisung kept stock-still –as if there was yet a wall between them, tall and stifling. 

“Chan?”

They were both looking at him with slight concern. Jisung dropped his hands to the sides. 

“I’m not bothered by you touching him,” he needed to clarify.

“You were staring,” Jisung softly noted. “Like, really staring.”

“I was. But I’m not uncomfortable.” He kept trying, “Are you?”

Jisung hesitated before resting his hand on Minho’s shin. His mate wasn’t even looking at them anymore, his gaze to the side as he nibbled on his lips. Distracted. Chan hadn’t meant to make things awkward. He might as well break the weird tension. 

“Min, I need to talk to you about something.”

His mate let out a relieved breath, welcoming the diversion. He removed his leg from pinning Jisung down. 

“Should I leave?” Jisung asked as he sat up. 

“No. No, you’re fine,” Chan assured as he scooted closer to his mate. Minho’s attention was on him. “We need to talk about Jeongin. I think I know what we can do to redirect his protective instincts to something useful, instead of having him act out against the pack.” 

Jisung let out a small, disbelieving scoff. Chan had been deliberate to refer to the pack as a whole, when they all knew Jisung was the one who took the brunt of his youngest’s misbehavior. 

“Hear me out first. Chicken–”

“No.”

He couldn't help but laugh. He knew Minho would protest against it, but he didn’t expect him to be so fast about it. “Come on Min. Think about it. We can trade Soobin for them, build a henhouse in that open section by the crops, keep a small flock, four or six, I don’t know.”

Minho slouched, “Chan…”

“And, we leave Jeongin in charge of them. He needs a pet project.”

“He’s going to get attached.”

“We’re not going to eat them.”

He scoffed, “Tell that to Changbin.”

“We’ll keep them as layers. Eggs, scrambled, boiled, poached. I can make egg rolls, you love those,” Chan insisted, using the shallowest of persuasion tactics to sway his mate’s mind. “And, and pastries. Felix could make so much more if we housed layers.” 

“I like pastries and egg tarts,” Jisung chimed in. 

Minho glared at him, but Jisung simply smiled –his excitement over the prospect shined in his animated eyes. 

Chan reached for his mate’s hand, holding it between both his own, rubbing his thumb on his soft skin. “We could try it for a while. And if it doesn’t work out, we simply give the birds back.”

Minho’s gaze flicked between them both for a moment, until he let out a long and exasperated sigh. “Okay, fine,” he relented. “But you’re in charge of it. I already have enough on my hands.” 

He kissed the back of his hand, “Thank you.” 

Minho made a face, sparkling a laugh out of Chan. He loved him silly. 

He tried poking his mate’s sides, but his quick reflexes caught his hands. Chan lost his balance and fell flat on his stomach, hands up in Minho’s grip. Minho clicked his teeth, a smug smirk stretching his lips. He might’ve been caught, but he was still stronger. He wrapped his arms around Minho’s middle and pulled himself close enough to nuzzle his face against his stomach. Palm against his forehead, Minho tried shoving him off, but he held fast. He could complain and fight all he wanted, Chan was never letting go.

Having Jisung watch them was expected, but the sheer adoration in his face took Chan by surprise. His expression was so open and unguarded; love lingered in every minute detail.  

Jisung noticed. He snapped himself out of his trance and coughed into his fist –a red flush spread through his cheeks, rivaling Minho’s flustered ears. 

“Um, so… Is this how you guys make important pack decisions? I mean, being all cute with each other?”

“No,” Minho grumbled.

“Sometimes,” Chan giggled. 

“Of course,” Jisung smiled, shaking his head. “So, um… Do you know why Innie’s still acting this way?”

“Oh…” He shared a look with Minho over the unexpected question. 

He kept silent. It was unfair of him to withhold information from Minho about Jeongin. But he could tell his mate later, without Jisung present. 

Minho threaded his fingers in Chan’s hair. “Our theory is that he’s overcompensating.”

“Really? Overcompensating what?”

“Protecting others now that he feels he can,” Minho spoke softly. 

Jisung’s demeanor fell, shoulders lowering as the moment of realization showed vividly in his face. “Oh.”

“Yiena’s an alpha now. He’s going to grow stronger and become more self-assured. He’s going to develop all the skills to never feel as scared or threatened again.”

“Yeah, that…that makes sense.” Jisung bit his lip as he nodded to himself, his gaze far off. “I guess that explains why he gets along better with Felix and the betas.” He scratched the skin behind his ear. “I, umm… Is there anything I could do to help?”

Minho looked down at him to answer. 

“You could scruff him,” Chan replied. Jisung made a face, as if that was the last thing he ever wanted to do –which was, in all honesty, understandable. “Just grip his nape whenever he crosses the line. Assert your rank and correct his behavior until he learns to stop.” 

Jisung made a silly face, between sad and unease, lips puckered out in a pout. Minho rubbed his shoulder, swaying him. 

“It’s just a phase, Sungie. He’ll get better.”

“We’ll make sure of it,” Chan assured. 

“Besides, it’s not like you weren’t a menace too.” 

Jisung spluttered, eyes going animatedly wide. “That was so unwarranted.” 

Minho smiled, wickedly bright. “But it’s true.” 

Jisung directed his puppy-eyes towards him. “Hyung,” he pleaded for his defense. 

But Chan simply chuckled and shook his head. He got up from the bed, pulling Minho along, “We should go, Wooyoung’s probably done with lunch already.”

Jisung stayed sat, sullen. Chan picked him up from his armpits as Jisung made no effort to use his legs. He took the opportunity to scent his young alpha, who merely grumbled and stayed pliant in his arms. He made sure to imbue his scent into every strand of hair, erasing the memory of Yunho’s hand touching him. 

“Hyung. Enough,” Jisung complained after a few minutes. 

He apologized with a hug and sent him Minho’s way –his mate watched with gooey eyes. If Jisung liked watching Minho and him together, then Minho was guilty of the same, melting at the sight of his two alphas being affectionate with each other. 

He crossed Yunho in the main hall and made the alpha stay behind as the rest gathered at the camp fire. Wooyoung and Changbin’s loud bickering traveled all the way into the cave. 

“Need anything, hyung?” Yunho asked.

“Just a word.” 

Chan might be smaller in height, but his strength came through his scent. Yunho cowered back at the dark shift it took, but Chan held him tightly by the shoulder –maybe too tightly, given by the way he winced and hunched down.

“Keep your hands off Jisung,” he said, dead serious with an amicable smile. Yunho fought against a smirk, but nodded in compliance. It irked him that the other alpha thought of him as jealous. He wasn’t insecure. He was asserting his mate’s claim on their young alpha. “And if you upset my mate again, I’ll break them.” 

Yunho’s grin vanished. But he didn’t appear scared at all. No, instead he looked happy. Extremely happy. 

“Okay, hyung. I understand.” He bowed his head down in respect, “I’ll behave.”

Even if Chan knew he successfully asserted himself, it didn’t feel like he won. No. He realized, then and there, that this was exactly what Yunho wanted. 

He let out an endeared scoff and tugged the sable alpha’s hair, “You brat.” 

Yunho smiled brightly, all teeth and immensely pleased. Chan hooked his arm around the tall alpha’s neck and dragged him along to the camp fire. 

In his room, Chan was preparing for a perimeter check, looking for simpler clothes to quickly slip out of. But a cold hand slithered under his shirt. Chan jolted, turning around.

“Minho-ya…”

His mate greeted him with an adorably devilish smile, bunched cheeks and half-moon eyes. He handed him a single, full bloom rose, its velvet petals deep red. A smile immediately stretched his lips, as if he’d been conditioned by both Jisung and Minho to instantly smile at the sight of flowers. Chan breathed in deep, loving the scent of rose; loving the man who gifted it to him even more. 

“Thank you.”

“No. Thank you,” Minho corrected. He ran his hand up Chan’s arm to rest at his neck. “For helping me out when I was being dumb and stubborn. You didn’t have to. But I appreciate that you did.”

“I’m always going to care, love.”

Minho cupped the side of his face, his dark gaze filled with adoration. Pressing their foreheads together, Chan felt a sudden surge of emotions through their mating bond. So much warmth, so much love, beyond words. 

“You’re too good to me. You’ve always been.”

Chan’s retort was swallowed down as Minho kissed him, deep and fully. His hand on the back of Chan’s head, he pulled him deeper and held him closer. Chan slid his arm on the curve of Minho’s back, opening up easily. He kissed his mate as if wanting to prove him wrong, reaffirming with each press of his lips that Minho deserved all the love and care he gave. He kissed him fully. He kissed him silly. He kissed him breathless. Minho licked behind his teeth and Chan chased him, taking the air from his lungs to supply his own. 

They slowed down, still holding each other, still kissing. His heart blazed, full, satisfied –yet still wanting more.

“Don’t you have a date with Sungie?” he whispered. 

Minho nodded his head, open mouth grazing his lips before kissing him again. An apology. Again, and again. Minho scraped his teeth against his bottom lip, pressing hard with dark intention. He groaned. Body on fire as his restraint weakened.

“Wait up for me.” 

Chan forced himself to swallow down his growl, watching intently as his mate backed away. 

“Wait,” he ordered, pulling him back in before their fingers unhooked. 

He didn't give Minho a chance to speak nor to flee. He bit and sucked the skin right under his jaw, hard enough to cause a temporary hickey. It wouldn't last through the night, but he didn't care. It was for Jisung only. A reminder of what was his to share. 

Minho hissed, digging his nails into his shoulders until he relented. He touched the soreness, staring back with wild eyes. 

“Ask him to kiss it better.”

“You're insane,” Minho laughed. 

Chan kissed his cheek, “Perfect for you.”

Minho nodded, wrapping his arms around his neck. “My mate,” he whispered and tugged on Chan’s earlobe with his teeth. “Don’t fall asleep without me.”

“Wouldn’t dream to.”

Finally, Minho kissed him goodbye. 

-///-

Past noon, Jisung came looking for his help, work sleeves rolled up, hands red and pruny. They went to the kitchen, where the counter was a mess of plates, knives, condiments, fresh pelt and offal. Rice grains scattered all the way to the floor. 

Minho crossed his arms and let out a purposefully loud sigh. Jisung smiled, wide and innocent. “I, uh… Hare curry?” Minho raised a single brow. “I tried to follow your recipe, but, umm…”

Minho peeked over the pot, the brown sauce was dark green. “How…the fuck?”

“I think I picked the wrong bottle of spices. It said to use star anise, but we don’t have any. So I tried the substitution, but, um, well…” 

Jisung handed him an unlabeled ceramic jar. Minho popped the lid and sniffed it. “Green tea? Seriously?” 

“I thought it was fennel.”

“Even if it was, you’re only supposed to add a teaspoon.”

With a slight frown, Jisung picked up the bark sheet with the recipe. His eyes scanned it over– “Oh…I read three spoons.”

“Three spoonfuls?” His voice raised, incredulous, and glanced over to verify as well. “Sungie, that’s a T, not a three.” 

Jisung jutted his thick bottom lip out and made his eyes pitiful and round. “Help?”

He stared down at the failed concoction with his hands on his hips. He dipped a clean spoon into the sauce and tried a tiny lick. It didn’t taste like his curry. At all. Jisung must’ve gotten more than the green tea wrong. He braved a spoonful, letting his taste buds guide him. 

“No ginger?”

“I put some.”

“Salt?” Jisung looked around for it. “Did you sauté the onions and garlic?”

“Sauté?” 

Minho let out a breath through his nose. He knew he could fix it –he’d spent too many years avoiding wasting food at all costs to not know how. Another bell pepper and two or three carrots should be enough to counter the bitterness. More stock and spices, ginger, grind it up well to get all the flavors out and make sure everything is broken into a paste. And lastly salt. A lot of salt to balance the taste. 

“This is only for Chan?” 

Jisung flushed a bit, scratching behind his ear, “Well, since, uh, well… I thought it would be a nice gift to feed him the food I caught for our, uh, date.”

Minho nodded, eyeing the hare carcass Jisung had yet to dispose of. “So you make food for Chan but not for your boyfriend?”

Jisung silently stammered. His shoulders dropped as he scuffed the floor. “It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if you have to cook it.” 

He stepped closer, leaning in to talk softly, “I like cooking with you.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm. We could do that one day. Cook together for a date night.” Jisung lit up, making Minho’s heart melt. “As long as I supervise, it’ll be nice. And edible.”

“Hey!”

Minho chuckled, stepping up to the counter. “Now, let’s see what I can do, because you are not feeding my mate this.” 

He got to work, giving Jisung instructions he knew he could follow. He didn’t let Jisung prepare the meat, but he did approve the rice he made, even if it was slightly overcooked. Minho properly smoothened the vegetables for the sauce. It still had a green-ish color, but the taste significantly improved into something of a herbal twist to his original recipe.

“My mate, huh?” Jisung muttered during a pause of idleness after he cleaned up the kitchen. He leaned his hip against the counter to observe him. “First the neck-mark and now this. Possessive much, hyungie?”

Minho grinned, scrapping the last bits of sauce from the pestle into the pot. “Gotta remind you of your place, Jisungie,” he sing-songed. Jisung stuck his tongue at him. Minho would’ve bitten him. He scooped the partially-grilled meat into the pot. “Besides, I got plans with Chan tonight and I will not have it ruined by you giving him a stomachache.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Jisung mumbled. “What are you guys doing tonight?”

“Each other.”

“Each other what?”

Minho fought hard to not laugh. He gave him a look. Jisung still was clueless, his brows tugging together. It took a long minute for it to click. 

“Oh…” he flustered easily –a pretty shade of pink Minho came to love. 

He couldn’t keep his laughter in this time and poked his boyfriend’s forehead. “What are you picturing, Jisungie?” 

“Nothing. I’m not,” he vehemently denied. 

But Minho didn’t believe him, creeping into his space and backing him up against the counter. Jisung’s mouth parted and breath hitched. Eyes were immediately drawn to Minho’s mouth as he always, without fail, sought to be kissed –love-dumb and single-minded. 

He loved the blatant attraction, his inner omega could sink its teeth and live off the attention. Ever since Minho confessed his own sexual interest, it became easier to rile him up. But they weren’t ready to take it further yet, much less inside the kitchen. 

He reached for the wooden spoon behind his boyfriend and stepped back. Jisung visibly deflated, then sucked in a deep breath to recompose himself. 

“Such innocent thoughts, Sungie,” he teased, taking the pot by the handles. “Come on, let’s heat this up.” 

Jisung fanned his face as he trailed behind him towards the camp fire. There were others out, taking up space at the new trestle table –Wooyoung insisted they needed a table to share dishes more easily, but Minho knew it was just a ploy for the annoying omega to eat off others’ plates. 

He set the pot over the fire to simmer. 

“You’re such a bully, hyungie,” he complained, making Minho laugh. “I’m serious. You’re so mean to me.”

“Hmm, got to keep you on your toes.” 

The young alpha placed his hands to his chest, “Don’t you think it’s too much for my poor little heart?”

“You’ll live,” Minho smiled down at him. He wanted to bite his cute little nose, but not with an audience around. 

Jisung pretended to swoon, bumping into his side. “Oh, how I love when you say sweet nothings to me. You have such a way with words.” 

“Can’t resist my charm?”

“Never.”

A half-turn and they were face to face with barely any space between them –he hadn’t realized Jisung was standing so close. The young alpha seemed stunned as well, eyes blowing wide before hooding down. 

“Hyungie?” he whispered into the thick air between them, his breath ghosting Minho’s skin. 

His hazel eyes searched his own before dropping again, to his mouth –always to his mouth. Minho felt drawn to follow, staring at the slight part of his pink lips. His heart raced. Jisung leaned in and Minho all but panicked, stepping back and rushing a hand between them.

“Not now, Jisung.” It came out harsh, almost annoyed.

Jisung backed away, blinking in surprise. “Sorry, I– sorry.”

Too aware of the others around, he let out a strained breath. His heart still raced. Jisung had never been this daring before. 

“I’m not mad.”

“No, I get it. I didn’t ask. I’m sorry.”

“That’s not–” He caught Seonghwa’s concerned gaze among the others. He stepped closer to lower his voice, “I’m not comfortable kissing you here.” 

Minho hated the way Jisung’s face dropped, the way he avoided looking at him, and how muted his scent got, as if he was trying to disappear in plain sight. Minho had boundaries. Surely he made himself abundantly clear about them. Yet he felt as if he had messed up. He tried grazing his finger against his forearm, but Jisung pulled away, crossing his arms to keep his personal bubble separate. 

“I prefer to keep things private, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Jisung curtly said with heat in his tone that stunned Minho. “I’m sorry for being so clingy.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“It’s implied.”

“It’s not. I’m only saying that I prefer to keep things private–”

“I know you do, since you’re so damn private with Chan hyung.”

The statement shocked him like a slap to the face. Stunned, Minho remained unreactive as he tried to still his rattled heart. Jisung appeared to regret his words, floundering to come up with an apology, but Minho wasn’t listening. He got Seonghwa’s attention instead to take over the pot. 

He didn’t ask Jisung to follow him, he ordered him to. The short trip to the storage room wasn’t enough for Minho to regain his bearings, he didn’t even understand how they got to this point, but he’d be damned if he let this issue fester between them. Once inside, he closed the door and moved the tree stump to barricade it, keeping anyone from barging in. 

Jisung stood stiffly, gazing away as if the flint stones and candles held more interest than the lead omega. But his scent was still a strom. 

“What did you mean by that?”

“You know what I meant.”

“Jisung.”

“I meant I was fucking stupid to think you’d treat me any different from your mate,” his boyfriend snapped with a glare. “You don’t dare be affectionate towards your own mate in front of your own pack, when we all damn well know he is. Chan hyung cuddles us more than he ever touches you, because you constantly reject him in front of us.”

“Chan accepts me for who I am and respects my boundaries,” Minho said hotly –irked by whatever misunderstanding grew between them that he still couldn’t comprehend. “Did you expect me to change?”

“No. Maybe. I dunno.” Jisung huffed out, frowning as he considered his words. “I, I mean, ugh–” he roughly rubbed his face. “You go on saying that I shouldn’t be scared of being who I am, of, of not caring about what others might think of me. Of trying to be more open about my feelings for you and, and Chan hyung –but you don’t do the same. You’re being hypocritical again.”

“I’m not,” Minho nearly barked. “This has nothing to do with that. I’ve had my boundaries from the start. It’s a personal preference that I thought you understood.”  

“Oh, I get it,” Jisung bit back. “But how am I ever going to feel good about myself if you keep pushing me away?” 

Minho fell silent, the heat from his temper chilling. There was something there, beneath the surface of Jisung’s anger, that was deeply rooted with his own identity and insecurities. Through the years, Minho had grown to fairly understand how the young alpha’s mind worked. His brain fed off information the way a growing pup sought nurturing, endless and insatiable. He needed all the pieces to fit them together, otherwise he would abstract ideas from elsewhere and either formulate an enriched vision or completely distorted one. Whatever this was, was a consequence of the latter. So Minho knew he needed to open up to fill in the gaps. 

“Jisung-ah, my intimacy with Chan is the only thing that I don't have to share with the pack.”

Jisung blinked, not anticipating such an answer. “What?”

Minho let out a long breath, stepping closer as he tried to word his thoughts. 

“What I share with my mate is the only thing that’s solely mine. Don’t you see?” 

But Jisung had no reply. 

“I have to share my time, I have to feed, I have to care, I have to teach, I have to protect. I have to give my energy and my emotional support. I share my scent to comfort them. Hell, I even have to share my bed when Felix gets clingy,” he raised his voice in faux exasperation, trying to break the rigid mood. But Jisung didn’t crack. He only stared, eyes open and bright as he absorbed all of the omega’s honesty. “I have to give them so much of myself because I’m their lead omega. That’s what is demanded of us. As leaders, the pack comes first. And yes, Chan is affectionate with everyone, because he’s this big ball of sappy love. But my relationship with hyung, both the physical and the emotional, that’s mine,” he emphasized by touching his chest. “They don’t get to share that, it’s mine. Only you get to see that, because you're mine too. And I want the same with you.” 

Minho watched the mechanisms of Jisung’s mind at work with the way his brows pinched and unfurled, and his shoulders relaxed. But his gaze, his ever-curious gaze, still searched for more.

“So, it’s not that you’re ashamed of being with me?”

“What the fuck?” Minho couldn’t keep himself from blurting out, caught off guard. Jisung startled as well. “Why the hell would I be ashamed of being in love with you?”

His boyfriend stuttered for a response, drawing back and inwards. Minho hadn’t realized how sour he smelled and tried to rein in his scent. Even Chan worried, pulling on their bond to check in on him. 

From the start of their relationship, Minho knew he struggled deeply with his sense of worth. The memory of Jisung calling himself such harsh words, when he finally broke and confessed his love for Chan, was indelibly seared into the omega’s mind. Jisung’s identity had been marred by his childhood traumas and the effects still bled through to this day. 

If only he could feel Jisung’s emotions then he could better understand him and navigate this delicate moment, helping him see out of the darkness of his insecurities. 

“Sungie,” he called out softly, shortening the distance between them. “Sungie, please talk to me. Help me understand.” 

Jisung looked at him like he dreaded speaking, as if he regretted every singular word and thought that led them here. But there was no backing down now. 

“It’s just…it’s always on your terms,” Jisung finally broke, unable to meet his gaze. “It’s only okay when you initiate it, like touching. But if I do it, if I get too close, then you push me away. If I try to hold your hand and someone else is there, you let go. It hurts. Every time you reject me, it, it… it feels like you don’t want to be seen with me. And, and I get it. I’m not the best alpha to be with. I smell like Chan doms me half of the time. The others look down at me–” 

“No one looks down at you.”

“They do. Whether they mean to or not, they do,” he stressed. “I’m not stupid, hyung. I know I smell like the runt of the pack.”

“You don’t,” Minho harshly retorted, causing the young alpha to stare back with wide eyes. “You smell like you're Chan’s.” 

Jisung’s expression obscured and Minho couldn’t quite read him anymore. Unsure of what to say, Minho wondered if he had lied about agreeing to the scenting and only complied because it was what Chan needed. Maybe Jisung wasn’t completely fine with being marked as Chan’s inner circle without being claimed. 

“I thought you were okay with it. With Chan….”

“I–” Jisung took a breath like he had forgotten how to breathe. “I am. I’m okay with Chan domming me.” He made a silly, self deprecating smile, “Fuck, I even like it. But it's not normal to like it.”

“Then I'm not normal either.”

“That's not the same. You're an omega.” 

Minho scoffed, “Alpha, omega, what does it matter?”

“That’s easy for you to say–”

“Yes! Because it’s true! Because no one else matters,” he raised his voice, surprising Jisung into silence. “We're building a relationship, a physical and emotional one. What Chan is doing is, is letting your wolves become closer. And if the others don’t understand that, then it’s their problem.” Jisung’s eyes glistened so quickly, his scent fell like rain. “You don’t have to care about what they think. It’s not on you to explain yourself to them. You just have to be you.”

Minho hugged him and caressed his face with his nose, leaving soothing kisses on his forehead, nose and cheek. Jisung didn’t cry, but he was teetering on the line between feeling emotional and breaking down. 

“I’m proud to have you as my boyfriend. My partner.” He cradled his face to plant another kiss to his forehead. “But I’m selfish. I don’t want anyone else to see us like this.”

Jisung held onto his wrists, fighting to smile. “I’m sorry. I thought you cared.” Soothed his thumbs against his skin as soon as Minho frowned. “I mean that, I thought you didn’t like showing affection because you cared about what others would think. And that’s why you keep Chan hyung and I at a distance.” 

“Oh…”

“I'm sorry for assuming.”

“Okay. I’m not mad. I should've explained better.” 

They embraced closer, chest to chest. Jisung left an apologetic kiss on his shoulder and neck. But the thing was, Jisung wasn’t entirely wrong. It wasn’t right to simply assume and not ask, but in truth Minho used to care about what others thought of him, especially about his ways of showing affection. As a pup it had been drilled into his mind to not show his emotions, to not seek nor give love –much less as a male omega. Deemed weaker and emotional, the stigma seared him. Judged for simply being what his nature was, he was left abandoned by the pack he once called family. It took years; it took Chan’s love and devotion, to relearn and override the outdated dogma of the Lee’s.

He used to care, but not anymore. 

“Do you need me to?” 

“What?” Jisung’s voice came out muffled by his shoulder. 

He leaned back, checking on his boyfriend’s eyes. “Do you need me to be more affectionate with you? I could… I can compromise.” 

The way Jisung stared, like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening, made him feel bad. He hadn’t realized how much hurt he’d cause for not communicating his boundaries better. 

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable,” Jisung softly said. 

“You won’t. As long as it’s not something too… you know?” 

Jisung nodded. “I think I…I think I need it. Like, I can understand that kissing in public is too much, but like, hugs and, uh, touches?”

“Hugs?”

“Huh– half-hugs?” Jisung stammered a bargain. 

Minho couldn’t help himself from chuckling. He hugged him strongly, tight enough to squeeze an ‘umph’ out of his boyfriend. “I’ll try. But if I’m uncomfortable, I’ll warn you.”

“Okay,” Jisung breathed out, molding his body to every curve of his own. “Thank you.”

“And Sungie–” he brushed his lips against that sweet spot behind Jisung’s ear, eliciting a full blown tremble, “It’s not because I don’t want to be seen with you. It’s because I want you all to myself.” He kissed the skin where his scent turned warm, “And there’s so much I want to do with you.”

Jisung audibly swallowed, digging his fingers into his hips, he rested his forehead on Minho’s shoulder. “Don’t tease me,” he rasped out with the beginnings of a growl. 

The smug grin was impossible to keep at bay. Minho’s inner omega felt unfathomably pleased. He threaded his fingers through Jisung’s silky blue locks, lightly scratching his scalp to calm him down. 

“Better?”

But instead of replying, Jisung rubbed their cheeks together, a soft rumble reverberated from his chest. He nudged him away with his nose, just enough to fit their mouths together. 

“Yeah,” Jisung sighed out, lips brushing before kissing him again.

“Don't get cocky.” Minho pulled back.

“Okay.” But Jisung chased him, placing his hand behind his head to capture his mouth once more. 

“Sungie,” Minho laughed as he wedged an arm between them. “I'm serious. Are we good?”

Jisung deflated from being denied, chest relaxing as he leaned against the rack. But his gaze was ernest. “Yeah. Yeah, we're good.”

Thoughtless, Minho chucked his chin up. It made his boyfriend’s mouth stretch into a pretty smile. Jisung caught his hand, threading their fingers together as they let them swing between them. For a moment neither spoke, too engrossed in the comfortable moment, their bubble of fondness and happiness that was only theirs to live in. 

He felt his mate lurking through their bond, still curious over what happened. Minho tugged on their connection, both from missing his physical presence and wanting to soothe him. It was in moments like this, when he felt so much for his boyfriend with no concrete proof in his chest, that made his inner omega whimper and claw at his gut. This unease disturbed him. He hated feeling like something was missing when he already had so much. His inner omega was a greedy little beast. 

“We should check on the curry before the spawns of hell eat it.” 

Minho stepped back first, pulling Jisung along. He only let go to remove the tree stump, but then caught his hand as they stepped out of the storage room. Jisung gave him a small, surprised look, but Minho simply held him firmer –without missing his boyfriend’s smile– and marched them back to the camp fire. 

He didn't have it in him to care about the curious gazes, not when the other wolves had completely devoured all the curry and rice –because of course the spawns of hell would eat anything and everything he made. 

Jisung looked disheartened. Minho bumped their shoulders together.

“It's okay. We'll make something else.”

“Thank you, hyungie,” he said, leaning into his side. 

Heart warm and content, Minho knew his gratitude extended beyond preparing food. Making Jisung happy was all he wanted.

-///-

Jisung carried two bags and refused Chan from helping him. It was late in the afternoon when he followed his young alpha up the east side. Crossing the small bridge, he couldn’t stop laughing as Jisung told him a silly story of a woodpecker waking up a squirrel nesting in an oak. The squirrel would chitter and rush down from its hole to scare the woodpecker away, but the stubborn bird would return, pecking away for whatever larva bored into the wood. Jisung swore to the Moon that the squirrel dropped a massive acorn on the bird’s head to get it to leave. 

They had their picnic date at a small clearing, on a bed of wild daisies, under the shade of a tall sycamore. On the blanket, Jisung set out a prepared assortment of sandwiches, kim bap and fruits. Chan appreciated his efforts, going all the way to prepare food for them, even though he could taste the touch of Minho’s cooking.

“You made all this?” 

Jisung paused mid bite, cheek puffed out with food and a rice grain clung to the corner of his puckered lips. “Uhh… Minho hyung helped me a bit.” Chan stared, looking him down with disbelief. “Okay. Okay. I helped hyungie. A lot. Happy?” 

He laughed elated at Jisung’s exasperation. He received a glare for it, just as Jisung shoved another roll of kim bap to store in the pocket of his cheek. 

“You thought I wouldn’t notice?”

“No… I just wanted to make something nice.” 

“It is.” He leaned against his side, “Thank you.”

He thumbed the rice away off his mouth, chuckling as Jisung went cross-eyed following his finger. Muffled by his mouthful, Jisung muttered a silly complaint. 

Offering a bite, Jisung raised a kim bap roll to his mouth. Chan felt his heart go a little dumb, tripping over itself. He purposely crossed his eyes to make Jisung laugh. 

Jisung brought his ocarina. He played a sweet melody first, mid-tempo and light to warm up his hands. A song that felt as happy as a nursery rhyme. 

Then he played a bright song, fast paced. Each note bounced from one to the other through quick breaths. Jisung’s fingers moved incredibly fast, tapping the holes to create every note. He imagined spring coming alive through the song: birds flying across the azure sky, hares leaping through fields, buzzing bees and hummingbirds pollinating flowers, hoppers stridulating, frogs ribbiting, dragonflies hovering above clear water, pond skaters gliding across the surface. He could feel the warmth of the fertile soil, see the colors of the flowers, and bask under the heat of the sun. But above all, he could smell the sunshine in Jisung’s petrichor. 

A slight flush from exertion colored his cheeks by the time he finished. Chan always felt amazed by Jisung’s talents. But, somehow, Jisung’s bright, heart-shaped smile –as if he came alive with the melody he played– stole all of his attention.

“Hyung?”

“Hmm?”

“Any requests?” Jisung repeated, tilting his head in curiosity. 

Chan had a favorite song, but he pretended to consider his options to keep seeing those observant eyes watching him back. 

“Can you play the one about the Moon and the stars?”

“That’s a bit of a slow one. Don’t you want one more cheerful?”

“No. I want that one.” 

“Alright, then.” Jisung turned back to face the front, flexing his fingers and humming the tune in preparation. With the mouthpiece just shy from his face, Jisung side-long glanced at him and deflated. His flush burned brighter. “Stop staring at me like that. I can’t focus.”

Chan conceded with a chuckle and settled his sight up towards the canopy. It took a moment for Jisung to start. The first four notes were soft and slow. Then the melody took life, flowing low and emotive. Long notes that stirred Chan’s soul and made him sentimental. 

Helpless, he was drawn in by Jisung’s magnetism, watching him sway to a beat only he could keep. The details of his expressions for each note, feeling the music in his heart before letting it out for Chan to hear. Jisung played so heartfelt and moving that Chan was transported with him. A bright, full moon high in the starry night with his mate in his arms, warmer than any camp fire, was what he always pictured with this song. But the way Jisung played today felt emotionally charged with something unreachable. 

The stark difference in the way Jisung played this song compared to the previous one spoke highly of his range of emotions –the way Jisung uplifted the spring, he mourned the winter. But the song stuttered as Jisung caught him staring. He turned away, eyes closed as he fought himself to regain his rhythm. He sustained a final note. And when he stopped, he was breathless. Chan felt breathless too. 

Jisung took a moment, fidgeting with his ocarina until he gained the courage to open his eyes. Neither spoke for a long beat, as if the silence was part of the song not yet ready to end. 

“Thank you. That was beautiful.” 

His young alpha scratched the skin behind his ear, eyes looking anywhere but him. 

“If that song had words, what would it say?” he wondered aloud.

“Oh. Uhm…” Jisung let out a breathy chuckle, “You’re really putting me on the spot, huh?”

“Sorry.”

He puffed out, “I don’t know. Something introspective, I guess. It feels melancholic to me.” 

“I think I also feel some melancholy, but in a beautifully profound way.”

“What do you think of?”

Chan smiled, needing no time to answer. “Minho. A warm night by the fire. Holding him. He can be so lovely sometimes, you should try it.”

“Or we could.”

He was taken aback by Jisung’s sudden surge of confidence, regardless of his deep blush and jittery nerves. “That was smooth.” 

Jisung pushed his tongue against his cheek, failing to hold back a grin. Chan wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh at him for trying to appear cool, or to laugh at himself for being so easily flustered. 

“I mean it, hyung,” Jisung added. “We haven’t gone out at night. We could, like, star gaze and roast sweet potatoes in the fire. Or, or something…” 

Chan nodded, liking the idea of it, but– “Minho doesn’t like being alone at night.” He didn’t know why it mattered now, but it was the first thing to filter through his mind and out his mouth.  

“Oh, um… I guess so?” Jisung agreed with a confused frown. “I mean, he’s either with you or me at night. Or with the pack. Do you know why? I mean–”

“He never has,” he cut in with a simple and honest answer. “He’s not like you, he’s not good with being alone. Me neither.”

Jisung hummed, looking over to where a rubythroat took flight. “I find that there is… I don’t know, power? Strength? In being okay with being alone.”

“Like an advantage? Survival?” 

“Yeah.”

“Mhm, I agree. Hmm… I think, up to a certain point, our life is about survival, but then you have to make more of it. Find a purpose or something that drives you and live it. Make it your own. If you’re always alone, then you’re mostly surviving.”

“Okay. Yeah. But, but if you’re independent enough, you could strive for something.” 

“Sure, but your time would mostly be invested in keeping alive.” 

Jisung agreed with a nod, “Yeah. True.” 

“That’s why packs matter so much. You get to work together, depend on each other, build systems to make life sustainable. You nurture. You grow. You influence each other to become better.” He kept going, impassioned, as Jisung nodded along. “You make a home. Find love. Create a family. You build a fire, build a home,” he inevitably smiled. “Being independent is good, but staying alone in the long run isn’t.”

Jisung had a pleasant smile, as if he, without a doubt, agreed with Chan’s point of view. He appreciated his young alpha’s honesty, as he knew how close to the heart this conversation was for him. One of Chan's challenges as pack leader was to adapt Jisung’s old habits to better suit the pack, teaching him to work as a pack instead of a lone wolf. A bad habit of his was to hoard food and supplies, scared someone else would use them up or steal them. Now he was one of the most selfless members of his pack, always willing to go above and beyond for others. 

“Do you feel like you depend on Minho?”

“I do.”

“Hyung, um… What do…” He looked down at his lap first, before daring to ask, “What does it feel like to be connected to Minho?” 

He didn’t expect that question, but it didn’t surprise him. “Are you wondering because of what happened between you two?”

“Yeah. I just…want to understand better.”

Chan guessed as much. He considered how to explain such an abstract feeling in a relatable way. 

“You ever had a moment when you’re so sure someone’s happy? Like, seeing Felix laughing, smelling like a beehive overflowing with honey, and you just know he’s having the time of his life. And his happiness is contagious, you can feel it too.”

“Yeah,” Jisung answered with a smile, as if he pictured the imagery in his mind. 

“It’s like that, but stronger and for nearly everything. I just know. As long as Minho lets me, I feel it.”

“Not always?”

“Well… It's a constant thing, like your heart beating. Sometimes you forget it's there, sometimes you pay attention to every beat. He can call through it and pull me towards him. But it’s not my heart. It’s his. I can’t always feel everything. Not when he blocks himself from feeling things.” 

A curious expression twisted Jisung’s features. But Chan didn't know how to better explain it.

“Having a connection to your mate’s inner wolf is meant to nurture your love and protect your relationship,” he carried on. “It… It’s another form of communication. With it, you get to understand each other better and help each other. For Minho though, he’s not that good at expressing himself –he’s better now, but he does tend to rely on our bond. So…”

“So since I’m not…” 

Chan felt Jisung’s hesitance strongly. He knew what he was going to say. Despite them only  talking about it, it seemed daring for Jisung to even suggest it. They were, in discourse, skirting the line Chan had drawn from the beginning. But it was without harm or foul.  

“He feels…odd, because he can’t feel me,” Jisung said instead.

Disliking the smallness of his voice, Chan leaned in, “Hey, there's nothing lacking in your relationship because you're not connected. A mating bond on its own isn't enough for a strong relationship. You still have to put in the work and dedication. You still have to communicate.”

A nod nearly imperceptible, Jisung stared at him with those round, curious eyes. There was something complicated working behind those eyes. A thought too deep Chan could never reach. 

“I think he grew comfortable with me. And now he’s…learning again. Because you challenged him. You put him on the spot and made him change.”

Jisung frowned, “For better or for worse?”

“For better,” he replied without a doubt. 

For a fleeting moment, Jisung softened and looked away as if he needed a second to himself. But when he faced him again, the complexity remained. He felt as if Jisung was trying to break him apart and examine each ugly, jagged piece with a focus that daunted him. 

“Do you feel him when he’s with me?”

Chan lost his breath. Briefly. Sharply. Jisung’s gaze was too intense to shy away with dishonesty. He could almost smell static in his young alpha’s scent.

“Sometimes.”

Somehow, Jisung’s silence was loud. His answer wasn’t enough to quell the storm brewing inside his mind. 

“That’s why I know you’re good for him,” he admitted, watching the tension unspool. “You make him happy.”

Jisung sagged. Whatever thought that had him pulled taut snapped and vanished. A shy, wobbly smile stretched his lips, “He makes me happy too.”

Chan knew. He’d seen it. 

“You love him.” Chan meant to ask, but it came out too assertive.

Jisung held his gaze, “I do.” 

“That’s all that matters to me.”

His reassurance wasn’t for Jisung alone. It soothed him, to the core of his bones, to know how loved his mate was. 

“You too,” Jisung said after a while, with an effort to keep his voice steady. His breathing was off, scent sweaty with nerves.

“What?”

“I love you too. Don’t forget.”

It shouldn’t have been shocking, but his words hit Chan like a crashing wave. It ripped through him, violently enough to knock his breath away. But then warmth washed it away, eroding his jagged edges and disarming his defenses. 

As much as he felt deeply for his young alpha, he couldn’t return those words. Not when it wasn’t in the way Jisung wanted and deserved. Instead he smiled, the corners of his mouth pulled by the strings of his heart. Open and vulnerable as much as he would let himself be –as much as to match Jisung’s honesty. 

Jisung melted into a lovely smile, coy and relieved. He let out a chuckle, dispelling any trace of anxiety, and shook his head like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d done. 

He started packing, “Let's go. I still have some foraging to do.” 

It didn't feel like an excuse to move on from their heartfelt moment. But Chan was still caught up in it. He aimed for Jisung's wrist, but grabbed his forearm instead. 

“You forgot something.” Chan tucked him in into a hug. 

With a loud ‘umph’, Jisung fitted in his arms. Unable to repress his contentment, he swayed them from side-to-side, taken over by what would’ve been his wolfen tail. 

“Can’t get enough of me?” 

“Nope.”

“Minho hyung was right,” Jisung mumbled as he perched his chin on his shoulder. “You’re a big ball of sap.”

Chan chuckled, delighted. He shook them faster, teasing his young alpha until he was all mumbled growls. But unlike his mate who would jab his fingers into his liver or sink his teeth into his shoulder, Jisung remained docile. 

A reason why he kept the role of the leader was his endless love for his pack. Playing with them, holding them, loving them, re-energized his spirit. Being close to them made him feel alive. This was what he was made for. His reason to be. 

But when Jisung was like this, so amenable, so reciprocal, Chan adored him even more. 

Once Chan had his fill of affection, he let him go, laughing at his disheveled hair and rosy cheeks. They packed to leave, wanting to beat the sunset home. 

On their way back, they walked past a cluster of tree peonies and went straight to a patch of red hibiscus. Some shrubs grew tall into small trees, making them have to reach up to cut the flowers. Jisung needed to forage them for a project that he kept secret, no matter how much Chan pestered him to tell. 

“It’s a surprise,” Jisung insisted and ducked under the branches to get to the other side and away from Chan poking him. 

Chan had no idea what Jisung was trying to make, but he remembered the red stain in the younger’s work shirt had been a headache to clean off. He just hoped this time he would be careful enough to not repeat that –though he severely doubted. 

With the sun lowering in the sky, he continued collecting flowers for his young alpha. He adored this side of Jisung, his curious mind with endless ideas. However, it also terrified him. He rarely could ever predict him, unlike how he understood his mate so well. Minho had an underlying pattern in his unpredictability –even if Minho confounded him at times, he still could puzzle out the reasons behind his actions. Meanwhile Jisung’s mind remained an enigma. It intimidated him to wonder what Jisung was capable of, because he was aware of his own limitations and knew his imagination could never reach the same magnitude of his young alpha’s. So much happened behind those pretty hazels. 

Jisung screeched and Chan dropped the flowers. He squatted to find Jisung furiously rubbing his face and trying to flee. Chan gripped him from his shirt and pulled him out from under the shrub. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Spiderweb.”

Chan immediately helped, wiping away the sticky threads from his face and hair. There was a tangled webbing at the corner of Jisung’s eye from where he kept rubbing. Chan licked his thumb and cleaned it off. 

“There, there,” he placated. “No spider.” 

He checked him over once more, running his hands over his hair, down the sides of his face and neck, then back up to cup his cheeks, feeling with his fingers for any remaining silky webbing. There weren’t any more filmy strands on his brows or lashes. And his eyes, despite the redness in one of them, were staring back, unblinking. 

Gradually Chan took notice of the details. His shallow breaths. His rapid heartbeat against the tip of his fingers. The iridescent abalone necklace against his honey skin. The deep blush painting his soft cheeks. His scent, earthy and warm.

He didn’t embarrass Jisung, he flustered him. So much so that he felt himself mirroring the sentiment. A thrill buzzed through his core. The weight of Jisung’s reconfession clung to the air between them, making each breath an effort.

Taking a much needed step back, he let go. Air filled his lungs with slightly more ease. 

“Open your bag.”

“Huh?”

Jisung lagged behind as Chan kneeled, picking up the scattered flowers. Jisung kept his small satchel open, already half-filled with red hibiscus. Chan stored away all but one flower, tucking the hibiscus behind Jisung’s ear to match his flush. 

Chan gently pinched where his cheek felt warmest. “Red suits you.” 

A strained noise caught in Jisung’s throat. He blinked fast, stunned. He stepped away, feeling the heat from his face with the back of his fingers. 

Chan gave him space, reveling in the fact that his young alpha wasn’t good at receiving compliments either. Jisung made a half turn and opened his mouth to only end up swallowing air. He turned again and started their trek back home –the lovely redness a near permanent fixture on his face. 

Felix needed omega time with Minho. 

His young omega had been weirdly moody all day after a small disagreement with Changbin. Something minor enough that Felix hadn’t wanted to explain to them until now. He was like that sometimes, taking his time before asking for help. 

Right now, all Felix wanted was to curl on top of Minho, stick his nose to his lead omega’s neck and cuddle. Minho was starting to fall asleep, hand on Felix’s nape to keep him still. His young omega’s jade eyes were droopy with cozy lethargy.

They looked so cute together, smelling all warm and snuggly. Chan wanted to pile on top of them, bundle them in his arms to keep safe and warm forever. But it wasn't his time. Felix needed Minho and he had to respect that. So, instead, busied himself sketching designs for Felix's new tattoo, trying to come up with something that satisfied both Felix’s vision and Changbin’s concern. 

Chan used to be in everyone’s business, when he was younger and inexperienced with managing his pack. He’d worry too much. Knowing any of his pack members was going through a hard time, no matter how big or small the issue, stressed him out and he’d always ached to intervene and make things right. He just needed them to be well, all the time. Eventually, he learned that he couldn’t be hovering over every pup and fixing all their problems. They needed their space to grow and develop as individuals, make their own decisions and learn to get through any hardship. Learning to take a step back was one of the hardest lessons for Chan. But he grew as a pack leader and his pack grew alongside him. 

Nowadays he would let his pack deal with their disagreements at their own time. He still knew about everything going on, most of the time, he’d overhear about it or was told directly from the source –sometimes from someone else. As long as there was no physical fight, no blood drawn, or no bad behavior that needed correction, then he gave them the space to talk it out themselves. However, if they ever came to him for guidance, Chan always welcomed them with open arms and listened with an open mind. 

Jisung entered their room, hands behind his back and frowning with his mouth at the sight of Felix draped over Minho.

“What are you doing here?”

“Having some Minho-hyung-time. What you got behind your back, Ji?”

“Nothing.”

“It don't look like nothing.”

Jisung narrowed his eyes at Felix, who only smiled back, sweetly in that mischievous way that was endearingly reminiscent of Minho's. Their staring contest lasted little, with Jisung admitting a sighed defeat.

“You shut up about this,” Jisung said, side-stepping towards Chan’s side of the bed. 

Felix giggled, “Not a word.”

“Hi, hyung,” Jisung finally greeted him as he stood beside the bed, a small blush already dusting his cheeks. He offered a handful of purple and white irises, tied together with a string. “I found these by the creek, it reminded me of those,” he pointed at the floral frame behind them. Chan knew he meant the blue irises. “Wanted you to have them.”

He didn't even try to fight his smile, discarding the bark sheets to receive the flowers. He took in the slightly woodsy and earthy floral aroma. 

“Thank you, Sungie. They're beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you.” 

Felix’s loud gasp masked his own reaction; a mix of pleased and embarrassed, still clueless about how to respond. He should've seen it coming; this back and forth between them kept building. Jisung almost always had something flirtatious to say, from the most innocent to the outrageous. 

Chan fled from the attention, excusing himself by setting the flowers in a vase –he was going to need another one since Jisung seemed determined to bring the spring into their room.

Jisung glared at Felix, whose jaw remained unhinged. Minho blindly reached to keep him quiet, but ended up sticking his fingers into his mouth. His young omega spluttered. 

“I didn't say anything,” Felix complained, snuggling against Minho's chest while avoiding his hand.

Jisung huffed out and dropped down on the bed with a bounce, sitting by their tangled legs. 

“How long are you gonna hog my boyfriend?”

“He’s my hyung too.” Felix stuck his tongue out. Jisung pinched his leg. “Ah!” Felix tried to kick him.

“Felix.” Chan called him to behave.

His young omega looked at him with the most pitiful eyes. “But he started it.”

“Jisung.” 

His young alpha smiled innocently. 

Felix rubbed his face against Minho’s chest –who was now sporting an annoyed frown from his disrupted rest. 

“Why are you being all sulky anyway?” Jisung asked.

Felix blinked at him, pouting again. “I want a tattoo, but Binnie says I should consider it.”

“What? He doesn't want you to?”

“No. He's okay with it, he just thinks I should take some time to consider the design.” 

“Well fuck him, you should get whatever you want.” Jisung crossed his arms, “He can't control you.”

“He's not,” Felix defended, raising his voice enough for Minho to complain. “I don't know what I want yet.”

Jisung’s annoyed frown twisted into confusion, “I don't get it.”

“Ugh.” Felix flopped his arms like a drenched bird failing to take flight. “I want to get a skull but I don't know what design yet. He's not against it, but he thinks a skull doesn't go well with the rest of my tatts. So he just said I should consider it for a while before doing anything.”

Jisung made a face, nose scrunched like he smelled something bad. “So you're sulky because he's being…reasonable?”

Felix further pouted, “Yeah.”

“Valid,” Jisung agreed with a small shrug of his shoulders. “Why do you want a skull?”

Felix sighed deeply. Minho briefly opened one eye to check on him and squeezed him a little. Jisung looked uncertain at Chan, who tried to smile reassuringly but remained quiet. Jisung got down on his elbows and crawled closer in the space between Chan and his omegas. He lifted his pinky finger, offering it to Felix who smiled and locked their pinkies together. 

“I just…wanna remind myself that I’m strong.” 

“Of course you are, Lixie. Tough and brave.” Jisung shook their linked hands, “A skull tattoo would look so badass.”

“Right?” Felix cheered up. “But it doesn’t go well with sunshine and honeycombs.”

“Says Changbin.” He rolled his eyes. “Who cares if they don’t match? You can get whatever you want. Half of Channie hyungs tattoos are random doodles.” 

Chan frowned. Sure, he let Hyunjin and the others practice on his skin, but that was the minority of his body art. “I wouldn’t say half–”

“Point is. They’re a mis-match of many things. And he still looks good.” Jisung winked at him to sell the point. 

He puffed out air and looked away from Felix’s giggles. Having Jisung playfully flirt with him was one thing. But having witnesses –even if it was just Felix– was something else entirely. He felt too exposed, his every reaction out in the open to be scrutinized. 

“I still don’t know how I want it to look though,” Felix said. 

“Okay, well… Were you working on something?” Jisung asked him.

“Well, um… I was thinking of using the moon as background, like the opposite of Lixie’s sun.”

“On his other shoulder?”

“Yeah, and um…” He tapped his thumb against his rudimentary design. Flipping the sheet around for Jisung to look at was easier than explaining. Instead of normal lunar craters, he tried making them into honeycombs to match Felix’s scent and style, but the result was lackluster and resembled anything but the moon. Having a skull beneath it didn’t improve the design. Too many round objects morphed into a singular form —almost like an upside-down butternut squash.

“That’s cool. Are those honeycombs?” Jisung leaned in to get a better look.

“Yeah, but I think it looks weird.”

“Hmmm… How’bout honeycombs on the skull? Instead of eye sockets.”

Felix chuckled, “That’s silly.” 

“You’re silly,” Jisung shot back. Felix made a face, cracking Jisung up. 

“I like the moon, because my Binnie has moons too,” his young omega supportively remarked. “But the moon behind the round skull kinda looks like a hat.”

“Oh…yeah,” Jisung agreed, almost apologetically –almost. 

“I know,” Chan sighed. “Maybe the skull could go as the face of the moon instead? Then, Hyunjin could add honeycombs like your sleeve.”

Felix perked up, Minho grunted when he pushed up against his chest, “Symmetrical?”

“Not quiet, but it would be matching.”

“Hmm, could be. But I dunno if I like the skull being the moon though…”

“What about a bee?” Jisung suggested. “Like, the bee has a skull. Normal head, then the skull as the thorax, and keep the striped-butt the same. Have the wings out, stinger and all. A killer beer.”

“Oh my moon, I love it!” 

“Killer bee?” Chan chuckled. “Loyal, sweet, hard-working, and protective. Yeah, I think that suits you quite well.” Felix preened. 

“I dunno about hard-working though,” Jisung sniffled. 

“Hey!”

“I think I can make it,” Chan affirmed, getting back into sketching now that Jisung inspired him. 

“Great! Moon, killer-bee, and honeycombs. Boom! There, you got your tattoo. Now will you let go of my boyfriend?” 

“No.” Felix swooped down to hug Minho again. Minho let out a dying sound. “Jealous, much?”

Jisung glared. But their silent match lasted nothing. He dug his fingers into Felix’s calf, causing him to shriek and spasm. Minho growled, finally waking up with a grumpy frown. 

“Chan, can you get rid of them both?” 

“No,” his young omega cried, pushing his face into Minho’s neck while kicking at Jisung’s offending hands. 

“Okay, that's enough. Sungie, come here.” 

“What?” Jisung's eyes bugged out. 

“Felix needs time with his hyung.” Though now he doubted the veracity of that statement with how Minho had Felix in a gentle headlock. He patted the space next to him again, more insistent, “Come here.”

Jisung checked the others first. Minho had twisted Felix to the opposite side and hooked his leg over his hip, big spooning his young omega to the point of immobilization. Felix let out tiny whimpers that Chan may have to check on, but he trusted Minho wouldn’t be too mean. He never really was, no matter how much he pretended. 

He showed Jisung his progress. There was barely anything drawn, a circle for the moon –just to picture where it’d be, and the killer bee in progress. A pair of dome eyes and antennae for the head, a skull to fit the size of its thorax, and a striped abdomen with the stinger. The wings and legs were missing, but he drew the most important parts of Jisung’s vision. His young alpha gave an approving hum as he leaned in to watch him sketch. 

“You want to try?” 

“You sure?”

Chan passed him the birch sheet and charcoal stick. There was still plenty of blank space to doodle. His start was clumsy enough to require a pumice eraser. After a halting advance of trial and error, Jisung decently drew the shape of a bee.  

With Jisung right beside him, he noticed the subtle difference of smell, not just his natural petrichor, but a muddy-humidness reminiscent of the waterfall. Chan struggled to keep his nose to himself. 

“You went to the creek?”

“Yeah, Hyunjin hyung was running low on clay and some of the guys wanted to see the waterfall,” he answered half-distractedly, using his fingerpad to clear a black smudge. 

‘Some of the guys’ meant the wolves from Hongjoong’s pack. And Chan was pretty sure a certain tall alpha hadn’t been around the clearing. 

Very unsubtly, he draped his arm over his young alpha’s shoulder. “Was Yunho with you?”

Jisung froze for a split second, side-eyeing him with a small pout. “Yeah.”

Pushing his nose into his hair, he loudly sniffed him, smelling too fresh and not enough of his scent. Jisung startled a laugh and flinched away from the ticklish feeling. But Chan kept him close, nuzzling his shoulder and up towards his head. 

“No, hyung,” he complained, pushing back. Chan grumbled out a soft growl. “Not now.” 

Rarely did Jisung reject him. And in that sense, he had become spoiled rotten —rotten enough to press his teeth to his young alpha’s shoulder to express his discontent. The gasp Jisung let out was more in surprise than annoyance. He remained dumbfounded as Chan pulled him into his side, making him partially lean into his chest in order to hook his chin on his shoulder. Jisung, quiet and pliant, didn’t even manage a growl. All he did was decisively look to the front, keeping their faces separate. But Chan felt the creeping warmth emanate from his face anyway. 

Jisung tried to resume his drawing, repeatedly dragging the charcoal over the same line. 

“I didn't think you liked scenting me so much,” he whispered after a beat.

Chan made a silly frown, unable to believe his naivety. “I love it when you smell like me.”

“You-you,” Jisung promptly spluttered. Felix’s sweet honey-basil flared. “You can’t just say that!” 

Chan dug his chin in to keep him in place, smiling too pleased with himself. “Why not?”

But his question went ignored, as Jisung turned his attention to the omegas. 

“Felix, I swear–”

“I didn’t say anythin’!”

Chan quickly shushed them, as Minho –somehow– had fallen asleep. He got them to settle down and made sure to keep Jisung half in his arms. If he had been flushed before, now he downright burned. Good. He deserved a little teasing after all Chan endured. 

“Come on, show me how’d you draw it.” 

An easy command thinly veiled as a suggestion, but it was all the prompting Jisung needed to focus on his task. He drew the head flatter, more anatomically correct, with the eyes disked out to the sides. He made the skull bigger, drawing only the upper jaw and elongating the sharp canines. The wings sprung outwards from the cheekbones. 

“You’re good at this. How come you never tried tattooing with me and Hyunjin-ah?”

“‘cause Hyunjin’s better,” he immediately answered –no hesitance, as if he’d thought it before. Multiple times even. 

“You could’ve improved.”

To that, Jisung simply shrugged. 

Chan didn’t like that silent diffidence. He warmed his scent, a homey campfire lighting up, and discreetly rubbed his cheek just shy from Jisung’s neck. That caused him to tense, fleetingly, commanded by instinct and not by his regard of Chan. 

But his concern was well received, as Jisung pulled down his arm to his side and circled the smiling tattoo on his inner elbow. Good. It softened his heart to have Jisung actively use this other form of communication with him, making him fit so seamlessly in his relationship with Minho. He took advantage to hug him, curling his arm around his small frame to pull him even closer. Jisung made no sound nor movement to oppose him, as if he finally understood his place with Chan and simply molded to where he belonged. 

Chan kept his comfortable perch on his shoulder, watching as he continued to bring the killer bee to life.  

Later, he woke up to Jeongin calling at the entrance of their room. Between the cozy silence and Chan’s soothing scent, they had fallen asleep. The four of them cuddled on the bed. Chan still held Jisung in his arms. So warm and soft, it was no wonder why Minho enjoyed snuggling him to sleep. 

“What is this? Why are you all sleeping?” Jeongin questioned aloud. 

Felix urgently tried shushing him. “For the Moon, Innie, read the room,” he loudly whispered. 

“What the heck? Then why are you here?”

“Shush. Lower your voice.”

“Whatever. Dinner’s ready,” he announced, tapping Chan’s foot with his own. “We’re still fasting tomorrow, right? You guys have to eat.”

Chan breathed in loudly, taking a moment to reclaim his bearings. “Thank you, Innie. We’ll be out in a minute.” 

But in truth, he was so comfortable and warm, that the last thing he wanted was to move and wake Jisung up. 

“Minho hyung, let’s go eat.” Jeongin shook his leg. 

Minho perked up, bleary eyed and chin tucked to his neck. Chan tugged on their bond, helping him wake up. His mate blinked at them, slowly. Once. Twice. Then turned his nose down at Felix still clinging to his side.

“What’re you still doin’here?” 

Whatever excuse Felix had remained unvoiced as Minho unceremoniously pushed him off the bed. 

“Minho-yah.” 

Chan sighed. His mate’s mischief was incorrigible. 

A few days passed. Chan sat at the camp table, hands busy sewing up a shirt Felix had accidentally torn while roughhousing with the others. Hongjoong was lounging beside him, arms stretched out on the tabletop as he sat backwards while chewing on a willow stick. 

They’d been chatting for a while now. Mainly Chan answered questions as Hongjoong was curious about what it was like living in a wooden cabin. The other leader had many concerns about fire. 

“But ya’said the wood stove lights up’the room. But ya’gotta keep it closed all the time. Or else–”

“Fire. Yeah.”

“And smoke too, hyung,” Hongjoong pointed out, dichromatic eyes wide and enigmatic. “Talk about suffocatin’.”

“Mica is fairly transparent and can withstand high heat.”

“Oh…Yeah I can see that,” Hongjoong nodded, tucking the stick into his cheek pocket.

“Back at my parental pack, there was a large quarry with lots of pegmatite where we’d find stacks of sheet mica. We’d often get lucky enough to carve out the mica to use as windows. Here though–” he ducked down to bite the end of the thread he seamlessly knotted into the shirt. “Here there’s more granite. So we’re going to have to travel a fair bit to find a deposit with larger pegmatite. In any case, we could settle with smaller pieces and make a mosaic-style window to let the light through without burning down the cabin.”

“Huh…” Hongjoong contemplated, tilting his head to the side. “That actually sounds nice. Like ‘s own style, ya’know?”

“Mhmm.” Chan carefully folded the shirt, making sure the stitching was tight enough with a little tug. 

“I bet the guys are gonna be excited ‘bout havin more rooms.” The leader chuckled, placing a leg over the other. “I’m sorry we’ve made space an issue. I know Minho’s been bothered by it.” 

“He has?”

Hongjoong paused. His mis-matched eyes watched him with conspiratorial mischief. He smiled two rows of perfect white teeth around the chew stick. “You’ll have’to ask your mate ‘bout that.”

The non-answer irked him. “What did he tell you?”

“Nothin’. Just a request.” Hongjoong dismissed with a shrug of his shoulders. “Anyway–” he clapped his hands as he bounced up onto his feet– “Hwa and I need to do some of our own foragin’ soon. So Minho-ya can have the space he wanted. And we could probably collect the mica ya’need while we’re at it. Catch a hare with two traps, or however the sayin’ goes.” 

He knocked on the wood twice and jogged away, vaulting a seat to quickly pass the camp fire and disappear into the woods –all before Chan could even finish processing what he said in his lightning-paced speech. 

He was left dumbfounded, staring at the spot once occupied by his fellow leader. Space. He said Minho wanted space. For what? For the kids to have their rooms back? For Jeongin to finally have his personal space to decompress, for Changbin to relax without Wooyoung mooching for attention, for Jisung to stop bed hopping?

Maybe his mate was right with timing their friends to leave. The basic structure of the cabin was finished, they still had to finish the roof and seal the windows to keep the critters from nesting inside. It would take a while for them to finish the rest –the kitchen furniture, the pantry, the washroom, the doors and windows which they needed to produce hanji paper for– but they no longer needed as many sets of hands.  

He was half-up off his seat when he remembered that Hongjoong and Seonghwa were lodging in Jisung’s room. If Minho wanted them out of Jisung’s room for more space then–

Oh. 

The gears in his mind ran slow, wound too tight to turn freely. As calmly as possible and only half-aware of his surroundings, he stored everything back in the cave and then went out for a much needed walk.

Alone, shielded by the forest, he let his thoughts run rampant. He had known for months that Minho was interested in engaging sexually with Jisung. Everyone knew now, thanks to Changbin. But Chan had left that detail for later, believing there was something more important to sort out first. And he did. Sort it out. And now…

He should bring it up again. They’ve talked about it, of course. And no matter how much he tried to assure his mate he could accept it, Minho’s answer was always the same: until Chan wasn’t completely comfortable with it, he would not have sex with Jisung.

Minho understood it was a difficult request to have Chan reevaluate their intimacy and open up this part of their relationship as well. And, as much as he thanked his consideration, it didn’t sit right with Chan to be the determining factor. It troubled him to wonder how much of their decision-making as a couple depended on him. 

What had he told his mate before? That he wouldn’t be a leash, controlling every aspect of Minho’s life. Being mated didn’t mean erasing the other’s individuality, but collaboratively flourishing and complementing each other with their differences. He still stood by that. 

But sex was…

Twigs snapped to his left. Hyunjin’s feldspar and lavender scent preceded him as he emerged between the pines. A leather satchel hung from his shoulder, a wicker basket of small, smooth river stones balanced in the crook of his elbow, while he collected lichen with both hands. 

“Hi, hyung,” he smiled, stuffing the lichen in the satchel. “Mind if I join you?” Chan shook his head, hand out as he wordlessly offered to carry the basket for him. “If you spot any conk, let me know.” Chan nodded, scoping for birch trees between the pines and the firs. “Oh, and chaga too. Minnie’s running low on them since San caught that stomach bug.” Chan silently assented again. 

Hyunjin stopped, holding onto the strap of his satchel as he observed him. “Is this a silent walk?” he asked, voice lowered to a near whisper. 

Chan smiled, content with how well his beta knew him. Hyunjin mirrored him, soft and understanding –the sun should envy his golden eyes. 

“Okay. I can shush.” He skipped to catch up. 

They continued in amicable quietude. Hyunjin moved more, swaying towards one side to the next to forage whatever caught his eye. Jumping on rocks, balancing on logs and roots. Occasionally whistling a piece of a tune, but never finishing a complete song. Chan kept an eye out for the fungi he needed, but his attention was still drawn inward. 

The sexual intimacy he shared with his mate was deeply personal. For him, it was always emotionally rooted. But that was where his mate differed. When they dated, Minho didn’t primarily see sex as a medium to emotionally connect. No, he was curious and enthusiastic, exploring his sexuality and his body without the need to foster feelings. Chan accepted that push and pull, hoping it would change the more Minho relearned to access and acknowledge his emotions. And he did change. 

Not only had he grown emotionally, but he also fell in love with Chan. And sex turned into another form of expression for Minho. His mate’s body language had been his, and his alone, until now. 

He knew why sex mattered so much for Minho; it was his way to confidently convey his feelings. But it was hard to conciliate what he wanted with what his instincts dictated. Would he be selfish enough to disrupt his mate’s desires and deprive Jisung of experiencing a normal relationship? Or would he learn to share this part of their relationship as well?

Truth was, he trusted Minho completely. He knew his mate would protect their bond. It was Jisung he felt apprehensive about. Even if he knew his young alpha cared deeply about them and their mating bond, he was still an alpha. Reactive and with deep-seated instincts. Who could assure him that in the heat of the moment he wouldn't bite his mate? 

And yet, despite his concern, if they truly were the only wolves Jisung would ever love, then he wanted his young alpha to experience it all like they have. He didn’t want Jisung to seek sexual satisfaction with anyone else. Minho wouldn’t tolerate it. Nor would he. Because Jisung was theirs. 

“Hyung, can you give me a lift?” Hyunjin asked, standing by a birch. High above him was a dark brown, chunky and irregular, chaga mushroom.

Mutely, Chan made his way over and rested the basket on the ground. He crouched low enough for his beta to sit on his shoulders. With the added height, Hyunjin easily carved out the fungi and stored it in his satchel. As he did, Chan spotted a bright, green leaf moving on top of a cluster of white spirea. It was a praying mantis. Hyunjin had to tap his head to draw his attention and be lowered to the ground.

“You’re really out of it today. Are you okay?”

Chan hated being a source of concern for his pack. Conversely, he loved knowing they cared for him. So he smiled, relaxed now that he sorted his thoughts, and captured Hyunjin before he could attempt to flee. His beta let out a strangled sound and flopped in his arms, forcing Chan to hold up all his weight. One big squeeze, snug enough to make Hyunjin grunt, and Chan’s heart soared. 

He left Hyunjin dumbfounded as he crept closer to the spirea bush. Gently as possible, he coaxed the mantis onto his palm. He shielded it and quickly walked back to the clearing. He fastened his pace as he felt the big move around and nibble at his fingers. As soon as he stepped out of the thicket, he called for Jisung. His young alpha hurried over from the workstation.

“Look,” he said before Jisung could even ask, and uncovered the praying mantis. 

“Oh, wow! Cool.” Jisung moved around to get a better look, the mantis staying stock still. “Where’d you find him?” 

“On some flowers.”

“Neat.” He tilted his head. “He’s got a lateral line. I haven’t seen one of those in a while.”

Chan didn’t know what that was or if it mattered. All he cared about was Jisung’s wide smile and bright eyes.

Jisung angled his arms at his chest, hands bent at the wrist to imitate the bug’s praying pose. He twisted his torso to one side, twice, and then lifted a bent arm forward. The mantis moved. A step back and a turn, its pseudopupil shifting with the tilt of its head. It twisted to face directly at Jisung. He lifted both arms in the air, body swaying like a leaf in the air. Apparently that was the wrong move, for the mantis flew away. 

“Aw, damn.”

“When did you learn to dance like that?” Chan asked through the beginning of a laughing fit. 

“You like my moves? You like my dance moves?” Jisung playfully teased, both arms bent and out as he precariously balanced on one foot, wildly swaying like the wind would knock him over. 

Laughing wholeheartedly, he scooped him in his arms before he could topple over to the ground, and swirled them around. Jisung let out a surprised shriek that morphed into a cackle. When he set him down, Chan couldn’t quite detach his hands from him.

“Did you learn from Magwi the Samagwi?”

Jisung scoffed, “She learned from me.” 

“Get out.” He shoved him. 

Jisung chuckled, tongue between his teeth. “I'm serious.”

“Yeah, right.”

Chan pulled him in by his sleeve, fully intending to tease him some more. But the smell of something burning caught his attention. He turned towards the direction of the workstation, where a thin column of smoke rose. 

“Jisung, did you set a fire?”

“Shit!”

His young alpha bolted, hurrying to salvage whatever experiment he was working on. He watched from afar as Jisung pulled the pot from its wooden handle, removing it from the fire. With a wooden spoon, he stirred whatever concoction was inside, but by the looks of his expression, it was unsalvageable. 

For the Moon, Chan really wanted to know what he was on about. But he promised Jisung he wouldn’t snoop. He watched for a beat longer, until the feeling of being observed creeped up on him. 

Behind him, he spotted Wooyoung, San, Seungmin and Jongho spying. They quickly tried to dissimulate, Jongho and Seungmin turned to speak to each other while San faced a tree. Wooyoung, on the other hand, made a heart with his hands and sent flying kisses towards his direction. Chan waved him off and walked back into the forest, in search of his abandoned beta –mind free from his earlier apprehensions. 

Patiently, Chan waited until the night to have his mate alone. Minho was already sitting on their bed, fluffing the pillows to get cozy. Chan crawled onto the middle instead of his designated side. That alone caught his mate’s attention. With mischief in his eyes, Minho stopped him with a foot to his chest. 

“What are you thinking about, hyung?” he asked, suggestively.

“You.”

Minho rolled his eyes, nudging him back, “Sap.”

“I’m serious.” He held onto his ankle, lowering his foot to his lap. “I’ve been thinking about you and Jisungie today. There’s something I want to talk about.”

“Oh… What is it?” At his hesitation, Minho tugged on their bond. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” he answered honestly. “It’s just…Hongjoong-ah let it slip that you wanted him to clear Jisung’s room. And I think I know why.” Minho sighed out through his nose, looking away. Chan squeezed his ankle. “Don’t get mad at him. It was an honest slip.” 

“Okay.” But Minho sounded sullen. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I don’t know when or if it will happen.” Minho wiggled his foot in his grip, “I wasn’t hiding it from you. I was…planning.” 

“I see.” He felt up the slope of his calf, cupping the muscle and giving a gentle squeeze. “Can we talk about it?”

Minho nodded, head titled both shy and curious. “What do… Do you want to know why I chose Sungie’s room?”

“Yes. This is your room too. You could–”

“No,” Minho cut him off. “This is our room. It’s yours as much as it’s mine. I don’t want to use your space for this.” 

“But you have before–”

“We’ve kissed, and cuddled, and slept here. But we’ve never done anything more,” his mate clarified. 

It shouldn't feel like a relief to know nothing else happened in their bed. But it did. Not because Chan didn’t want them to, but because he didn’t want to feel excluded, much less for something as important and intimate as this. 

“We haven’t had that type of privacy yet. And Jisungie, he, he’s been very respectful. Keeps everything above the waist. And I’m…curious,” his mate confessed with a lovely blush coloring his cheeks. “I’m not implying anything has to happen, I don’t know if he feels ready for it. But I… I just want us to have that space to at least explore.”

Chan understood perfectly and adored how thoughtful his mate was being. But he needed more. 

“Explore what?”

“You know.”

“I still need you to tell me, Min.” Chan lightly pulled on his leg, wanting his eyes back on him. Heat simmered beneath his ribs, where his inner alpha stirred. “Love, please, I need to hear it.”

Minho stared with his beautiful, big brown eyes, pulling Chan into their own gravity. His heart raced, matching the rapid beating of his mate’s.

“I want to have sex with Jisung.” 

Chan breathed easy. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I want you to.” 

Minho blinked, repeatedly, with his surprise evident in his face. “Why?” 

Chan pushed his leg away to kneel between his parted thighs. He hovered over his mate and tucked his hair behind his ear. “Because I know you, Min. I know this matters to you.” He tugged on his red lobe before sitting back on his haunches. “And if we really are all Jisung’s ever going to get, then he deserves to experience everything.” 

Minho caught him off-guard, wrapping his arms around his shoulders to pull him down into a hug. The angle was awkward for his back, so Chan pulled him from his middle to sit up. Nuzzling against his neck, his mate pushed his emotions forward through their bond. Chan felt everything, more than words could ever say. Chan kissed the crown of his head, taking in the moment to revel in it. 

“Hyung?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you sure?” 

Chan squeezed him tighter and opened his heart to him so there was nothing left to hide. “I am.” 

Minho kissed his gland. His neck. His cheek. Until he coaxed him to meet him halfway. His mate kissed him like he was trying to soothe a phantom pain, healing a wound that never existed. Chan didn’t need him to worry, not when he was fully committed to supporting their relationship. Not when he finally felt good about them all working so well together.  

“Love, Min–” he pressed their foreheads together, “I’m alright, love.”

Minho whined from the back of his throat and poked his cheek with the tip of his nose. Chan held onto him longer. 

“Channie,” Minho leaned back. “Is there anything you don’t feel comfortable with happening? Besides the obvious.”

“No neck bites.”

“No neck bites,” he promised. 

“Just…” He kissed his temple. “I need you to tell me before it happens. Just so I can be prepared.” 

“Of course.” 

Chan should’ve been satisfied with their conversation. But the possessive part of himself wanted to know more. So much more. 

“What would you want to do with him?”

Minho startled, bewildered. “What?”

“How would you do it?” Chan insisted, sharply as he didn’t intend to back down. “With Jisung, how would you want it to happen?”

The blush he sported reddened. Minho shook his head, embarrassed. But Chan needed to know, his inner alpha clawed up his chest and growled out his throat. He held onto his mate’s jaw, forcing him to face him. 

“Please, love. I need to know.” He brushed his thumb where his cheek was reddest. But what Minho struggled with to speak, he was eloquent with his body. Chan could adjust. “Show me.”

It took a minute of soft persuasion, of kissing his face and massaging his neck. Eventually Minho moved. Gaze down, uncharacteristically shy, he pushed Chan until he had him lying on his back and straddled his hips. Chan’s gut stirred, breathing uneven.

“Like this first?” 

Minho nodded, timidly meeting his gaze. 

He considered his mate’s reasoning as he roamed his hands up his thighs and to his hips, where he gripped and squeezed. Jisung was a virgin. That he had no doubt. It made sense for his mate to want to take control and show him how to make sex pleasurable. 

“Want to make him feel good first? Make sure he enjoys it?”

Minho slightly choked and harshly dug his fingers into Chan’s chest. Hard enough for him to seethe through his teeth to ease the pain. It was such an experience to have Minho like this, so coy, so flustered, and so darn cute Chan wanted to bite him.

“Why are you getting shy with me, love?” he couldn’t help but tease, earning another sharp dig to his chest. He tightened his grip and moved his mate’s hip into a rocking motion. “Come on. Show me. I want you to.” 

Minho dropped his head as he began to move. Hot and breathless. Chan wasn’t fairing any better, his blood already pooling south, and growing hard. 

“You’ve thought about him a lot, haven’t you? Fantasized about him fucking you?”

Minho swallowed hard and bit his bottom lip red. Oddly, or thankfully, he didn’t feel bothered by his mate fantasizing about Jisung. It felt right, like it was meant to be. Jisung was his. He was theirs. No one but Minho got to have him that way. 

Chan tried picturing it. Jisung flustered and helpless beneath his mate. His small waist and thin hips pressed between Minho’s thick, muscular thighs. He probably couldn’t handle his mate. He’d come too fast and pop a knot. Would Minho be gentle after, giving him the mercy of stopping and waiting for him to come down? Or would the devil inside take advantage of his lust, using Jisung’s knot to get himself off?

“Or is it the other way around. Use his body and do all the work to make sure you're satisfied?” Minho stopped, shocked at the words coming out of his mouth. But Chan kept moving him, the pressure just right. “I can picture him, so helpless beneath you. You’d squeeze his little hips, pull him deeper inside you.” His heart lurched at the tight pull Minho gave. His mate looked at him like he’d gone insane. And, quite frankly, Chan felt delirious. “You'd take control to make sure he fucks you right.”

A moan broke through Minho’s lips. He dipped his hips at the perfect angle and moved with more intention to get them off. His scent spurred them on, so sweet Chan wanted to savour him. He ran his hands down to grope at his ass, feeling all that tight muscle at work. 

“Would you be a good leader and teach him how to fuck you?”

Minho squirmed. “Would you?”

Chan froze. With his breath stuck, he wheezed out, “What?”

Minho hesitated. His beautiful, chestnut eyes widened with a shock of fear. He fumbled to get off him, “Sorry.” 

“No. Wait.” He snatched him back by his tattooed arm and pulled him backwards onto his lap. He groaned when his weight dropped on his arousal, relieving some of the pressure. He held fast, loving the feeling of his thick body against him. “Is that what you want?” he whispered next to his bright red ear and gave it a teasing nibble. 

Minho pushed his hips back, pressing up against him in a way that made his eyes roll back. 

“Chan,” he called out, needy and breathless. 

A growl rippled out of him. He felt toxic with lust, completely insane. Hand between his shoulder blades, he pushed his mate’s torso down onto the mattress. Like an impatient, horny teen, he mounted him and rubbed his clothed erection against his bottom, swaying his hips in an imitation of how he would truly fuck him. 

“You want me to teach him how to fuck you right?”

His mate made a garbled sound, as if he was drowning on his own spit. Minho fought against his hold to turn, desperate as he tried to seek for Chan’s face. He gave him reprieve, rolling him onto his back. But when Minho tried to kiss him, he kept him down, pinning his wrists to the bed. Minho cried a complaint, eyes glistening as he bucked his hips up. Chan was completely gone. High on power and drunk on his mate’s intoxicating scent. 

“Or do you want me there too? Huh? The both of us–” His mate threw his head back, letting out a loud moan, like he’d been touched in the place that gave him the most pleasure despite being empty inside. Chan’s chest burned embers. “For the Moon, Minho. Is that what you want?”

“Chan–”

“Have you opened up pretty and let us have turns on you? Fuck you all night until you’re spent and cum dry?”

“Fuck, Chan. Shut up,” he growled and broke free. Minho pushed him to sit up and climbed onto his lap. “Stop talking, fuck.”

Minho kissed him hard, with too much teeth and not enough oxygen. Chan quickly matched his intensity, clutching his hips to rut against him. Minho tried to strip him, but fell backwards when he fought to pull his shirt off. He followed, focusing on pulling Minho’s pants down just enough to free him. He wetted his hand before jerking him off, quick and efficient. Minho gasped hard, tears slipping from his eyes, and tugged him down by his hair into a wet kiss. With how pent up he was, it didn’t take long to get him to come with Chan’s teeth on his neck. He felt his mate’s climax strum through their bond, bringing them closer together with a surge of ecstasy. Chan didn’t relent, hand still on him until he squirmed. 

While Minho tried catching his breath, sprawled and chest heaving, Chan removed all their lingering clothing, kissing every bit of skin he could get his mouth on. 

“Chan,” Minho breathed out. “Channie.”

Heart still ramming against his ribs, he hovered over his mate. 

Minho cradled his face, “I need you to fuck me.”

A guttural groan was punched out of him. He caught his mate’s thumb with his mouth, biting sucking, as if it could abate his throbbing lust. “Did you clean up?”

“Yes.” Minho pushed his thumb against his bottom lip. “I need you now.”

Without wasting another second, he flipped his mate around and went down on him. Minho was already so relaxed after his orgasm, making it easier to open him up. Collecting serous saliva, Chan slicked and prepared him, palming himself through it to alleviate the heavy hardness of his neglected cock. Minho tugged him by his hair, impatient and ready. 

Chan knew his mate wasn’t one to talk during sex, often finding it a distraction. But he couldn’t help himself. Not when his imagination had already been ignited. Lined and pressed inside, he draped over his mate’s back and rocked their hips together. 

He bit the corner of Minho’s jaw. “Is this how you want him to fuck you?”

“Forthemoon, stop tah-alking.”

“His first knot won’t hurt if he takes you like this.”

Minho growled, scent tasting bitter, “Chan, I swear-ah, I’ll punch you.”

“No. We don't do that,” he said, too serious to sound like a tease. He stretched his mate’s arms out and pinned his wrists to the bed. “No hitting, no slapping, no spanking during sex. You better teach him that before you let him touch you.”

Minho cried out, frustrated, and hid his face. Feeling bad for pushing him too far, Chan slowed down their pace to kiss his temple and the sharpness of his cheekbone. He pulled on their bond to send him love and promised to behave. 

Interlocking their fingers, he used their hands as an anchor point to drive his hips in a long and sinuous wave. He fucked him deep, relentless, with the sole mission of chasing that sweet release they both craved. Chan leaned his face over his mate’s shoulder, brushing his lips to the warm skin of his face and breathing in their mingled scents. He let his inner alpha surface, growling with abandon as he sped up. When his mate was close to tipping over, he bit into Chan’s bicep, hard. Immediately catching on, he let go to wrap a hand around his cock, helping him come again. Chan sunk his teeth on his shoulder, just shy from his gland, and Minho’s orgasm triggered his knot to lock in place. 

His Chest vibrated, their bond thrumming and magnetizing. Chan cared little about catching his breath, licking Minho’s sweet and sweaty skin to soothe the bite. But his mate was breathless and boneless beneath him. There was something so fulfilling about satisfying his mate so well. To have him fucked out so good, unravelled and blissful. Chan thrived on it. It inflated his ego and swelled his heart.

Soft and sleepy during aftercare, Minho’s eyes wouldn’t leave him for any second of it. If he moved to the wash bowl to wet a cloth, his eyes would follow. If he kissed him, his eyes wouldn't shut fully, as if he was scared of missing out any detail. His intensity amused him, like he was seeing something different in Chan that he hadn’t seen before. And maybe he had changed. Now that the thought of Jisung in their lives felt solid in his mind and heart. 

He didn’t bother with clothes to sleep and tucked them to bed. Minho rolled on top of him, pinning him down like a weighted blanket. He kissed the inked lines of his pack mark, right over his beating heart, and nuzzled his chest. Languid and warm, Chan quickly followed his mate into a deep rest. 

Chan woke up to an alarming start and a growl ripping through his chest. His instincts alert while his mind ran to catch up. The blanket was pulled off them and Chan quickly corrected that, covering his mate. 

“Sorry. Sorry,” Jisung’s dark silhouette whispered and scurried out of the room.

It took him a disconcerting moment to wake up and comprehend what had happened. After checking on Minho, who was still fast asleep, he got up to find them sleepwear. 

Unsure if he’d find his young alpha, he stepped out of their room. He rubbed the sleep still clinging from his eyes and spotted Jisung sitting at the entrance, star gazing.

“Sungie?” he approached.

“Shit. Sorry hyung, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Why are you up?” 

Jisung mutely stammered, his round eyes staring up at him. He sighed, “Actually, I slept well. But I kept waking Yeosang hyung up. I was fidgeting –didn’t even notice. But hyung got annoyed and kept telling me to stop running. Why are you running? Where are you running? Stop running, Jisung-ah. Like that.”

Most of what he said barely registered in his head. “You shared a bed with Yeosang?”

His eyes widened, so much so that Chan could see the whites in the dark of the night. 

“Mingi hyung was already sleeping with Jongho, so…”

Chan offered his hand, “Come here.” 

Despite feeling half-awake, he easily pulled his young alpha to his feet. And maybe because he was half-awake, he took Jisung’s fur mantle off and sniffed his skin. There was a faint trace of Yeosang’s coconut scent on his hair –probably from sharing pillows. Chan didn’t ask to scent him. He just did it. He needed to.

“Hyung,” he complained, pushing back. “You smell like…”

“Like what?” 

But Jisung let the silence hang between them, offering no answer nor explanation.

Chan stepped closer, “You don’t want to upset Minho, right?” 

Jisung stilled. Chan held him by the jaw and made sure no other scent lingered on his young alpha. Eyes closed and jaw tensed, Jisung struggled to behave. A soft growl escaped him. Amused, Chan pinched his cheek before letting him be. 

He took Jisung to their room and tucked him into Minho’s side of the bed. His mate noticed. Still deep in slumber, Minho turned to snuggle against their young alpha. He breathed in deep, recognizing his scent on Jisung, and relaxed, tucking his face to his chest. 

“There.” Chan brushed his mate’s hair back. “Cozy?”

“Yeah,” Jisung whispered.

Watching his mate sleeping so comfortably on Jisung gave him whiplash as he remembered the depraved things he said. The memories flooded back like a bucket of cold water, shocking him awake. For the Moon, Jisung had no idea what they did just hours ago. 

Without a word, he made his way to his side of the bed and slipped back in. He tried, desperately, to not think about anything at all. 

“Hyung?”

Chan turned to the side, spooning his mate to peer over him. Jisung looked small under Minho’s muscular frame. 

“You changed the sheets, right?”

Of course Jisung knew. With how his musk lingered on his mate, there was no way Jisung wouldn’t notice. He knew and still decided to stay in bed with them. Chan felt reassured; this was where he belonged.

“We didn’t use the sheets.”

“Oh…”

Even in the dark room, he knew Jisung was blushing. Chan smiled, impossibly endeared. He settled his arm over his mate’s head, reaching far enough to thread his fingers through Jisung’s silky hair. He gently scratched his scalp, coaxing him to sleep. 

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah. Feels nice.” Jisung tilted his head more, his gaze fully on him. “I don’t think I’ll fall asleep anytime soon though. So you don’t have to–”

“I want to.”

Jisung swallowed loudly. 

Minho moved, sliding his leg over Jisung’s hips, using his whole body as a pillow. He let out a long sigh. 

“Why aren’t you holding him?” Chan asked.

“I just… Well, you, um…”

He gently tugged his hair, “You have to treat my mate right, Sungie.” 

Jisung wrapped his arm around Minho’s middle and rubbed circles on his back. “Like this?”

“Better,” he approved and continued to pet his head.

He tried sleeping. But he could still feel Jisung’s gaze on him. 

“Play me the song I like.”

“Now? How?”

“Hum it.” 

It took a quiet moment for Jisung to start. But when he did, Chan immediately recognized the tune. Jisung’s low voice vibrated like a soft and melodic growl. His mellow murmuring lulled him like a soporific balm. All too soon, Chan fell asleep.