Chapter Text
It started, strangely enough, with a shirt.
A shirt, nearly threadbare through repeated wear and wash—probably more than was advised. Kyungsoo had scolded him a few times for his lack of care towards articles of clothing and his habit of letting piles of laundry grow in his room like a belt of volcanic activity. When the sight grew unbearable to even his eyes, Jongin would gather them up and throw them into the washer and dryer altogether; nice shirts with the old, whites mixed with the reds.
But at least he tried to be a good roommate. Knowing Kyungsoo’s hectic schedule, Jongin always remembers to bring his dirty laundry down with him too—though the pile much smaller, much more manageable than Jongin’s own, the unmistakable sign of someone who does his own laundry on a more regular basis. And because he’s not only a good roommate, but also the bestest friend ever, Jongin always makes sure to throw in some of that fancy fabric softener that Kyungsoo orders from Japan too.
(Take that, people who say alphas can’t do housework too)
Who knew that wasn’t enough to maintain the quality of clothing?
And so, here it is. A shirt, nearly threadbare through repeated wear and wash, and as black as everything else in Kyungsoo’s godforsaken closet. It’s satin, or some sort of silky material, Jongin isn’t sure—though he remembers thinking it must feel nice on skin when he had thrown it into the wash. Jongin never pays too much attention to the other man’s wardrobe, and most of it looks the same anyway—all black t-shirts and fitted sweatpants and warm, soft UNIQLO hoodies.
Kyungsoo, who prefers practicality over frivolity, always the one to wear whatever he has in his closet until it’s impossible to get anymore use out of it anymore.
Jongin racks his brain a little harder. He remembers seeing his roommate wear it a number of times, one of the few nice shirts that Kyungsoo owns. Maybe when he came to Jongin’s high school graduation? Or maybe at Yesuh’s—his ex-girlfriend, and a beta—birthday party a year ago.
Regardless, Jongin remembers the shirt being structured. With thick shoulder pads, because Kyungsoo must have bought this years and years ago when he used to feel self-conscious about his omegan build, all small and narrow, and it fell stiffly over his body to disguise the slight rounded curves of his hips and the dip in his waist.
Now though—now, it’s all soft and much more worn, draping down and across Kyungsoo’s torso in a way that hides nothing. His shoulders are as narrow as Jongin knows they are when Kyungsoo’s shirtless. And that’s a sight he grew up to. They’re childhood friends, growing together since they were snot-nosed brats saddled with each other because they both had the luck to grow up as neighbours. So, he knows what the omega looks like naked, and it’s normal, it has always been fine—even with the way the shirt now tapers in at the waist before flaring out at the hips.
But what really catches Jongin’s attention though, what truly distracts him from the variety show he’s been watching (It’s Dangerous Beyond the Blankets), is the way the shirt looks on Kyungsoo’s chest.
When the omega first walked into their shared living room, fretting over the cuffs of his shirt and dressed in his nice, but old, silky top, and a pair of dress pants that honestly were a little too oversized for him, Jongin had paid him no mind. They live together, they grew up together, he’s used to sharing a space with Kyungsoo. But then Kyungsoo had asked him if he could help him roll his shirt sleeves up—”They’re a little long, Jongin-ah”—and again, that was normal. Kyungsoo was short, most clothes didn’t come fitted for his t-rex arms.
So Jongin heaved himself up from the couch, where he had moulded a little hole into the cushion over the past 3 years they’ve lived together, and bent his head lower to grab at Kyungsoo’s arm so he could roll his sleeve up. It was in this position that he noticed the way the shirt fit strangely over Kyungsoo’s chest.
Usually flat (or at least from what Jongin remembers, and he normally doesn’t stare at his childhood friend’s chest), Kyungsoo is now sporting two small mounds, a gentle swell under pretty fabric in mimicry of breasts, barely even an A-cup. In the cold chill in their room, because they’re broke college students who can’t afford their gas bills if they crank the heat up, the smaller boy’s nipples are peaked, rising up stiff under the silky fabric.
He doesn’t know why, but Jongin finds himself lingering on the sight. His eyes trace over the way the shirt falls tighter around the chest, the way Kyungsoo’s chest seems so soft, so...
He doesn’t know what it seems.
(At the back of his mind, he suddenly recalls Biology 12 lessons about omega biology and the way omegas’ chests become plumper, more sensitive as they near their heat. Something about prolactin and hormones—but he’s a dancer, not a biologist.)
Kyungsoo’s voice, deep but not as deep as it used to be when he would pitch it lower to fight off against the annoying alphas that would harass him, brings him out of his thoughts. “Thanks, Jongin.” His friend smiles, patting Jongin goodnaturedly on his shoulder, before leaving to grab his wallets and keys. “I’ll be back later tonight.”
And then he leaves.
—and so, this is how it starts. This is how Jongin begins noticing things about his childhood friend, his best friend, his roommate, Do Kyungsoo, that he had never, ever noticed before.
(Later on, Jongin will realize that it started way before Kyungsoo showed up in that shirt. That somehow, somewhere along the line of their 17 years of friendship, Jongin began subconsciously seeking out the smaller boy, his head automatically turning whenever he knew Kyungsoo would be tickled pink by something, though he always preferred it when it was him who made the omega laugh, just so he could catch a smile of that heart-shaped smile and chubby cheeks bunched up in pure joy.)
Jongin was 5 years old when they had first met. He still remembers the day clearly, how the sun shone clear and bright over their small, older apartment building, tucked in the suburbs near Seoul. A middle-aged couple used to live in the unit across from theirs, and they had moved away a few weeks ago because the wife had been transferred to a better position in Gwangju. His father, a beta just like his mom, had told him that a new family was moving that day.
Instead of hiring any moving trucks, the Do family gathered their friends and family to help with transporting furnitures and other household knick knacks. He remembers peering over the window on his tippy-toes, too tall for little Jongin back then, and seeing cars and cars lining up and down their neighbourhood. Their street bustled with activity, storms of people carrying table legs and bed frames up four flight of stairs and into the tiny suite. His oldest sister had grumbled a little, worried that her boyfriend wouldn’t be able to find street parking to pick her up for her date.
It took a couple of hours before the noise began to die down, and by then Jongin had already peeled himself away from the window and busied himself with playing dress-up with his sister’s old favourite dolls. He startled when the doorbell suddenly rang, and hid behind the doorframe of the living room once his mother got up to open the door.
The door opened to reveal two women—a couple—only somewhat younger than his own parents.
“Ah,” his mother said, warmly. “You must be the new family moving in!”
The taller woman nodded. She smiled back, her arm looped through her wife’s. “Yes, I’m Sohye. This is my wife, Do Eunsoo, and our two boys. Say hi to auntie, you two!”
Two small figures shuffled into view, hidden previously by the door. They both had a similar hairstyle, surprisingly stylish and swept into a neat coif and held by gel.
(Jongin later found out that Sohye is a hairstylist.)
The taller child had a squarish face, padded with baby fat and a toothy grin. Clinging tightly to his arm was a smaller boy with a round face and big, wide eyes that stared up in curiosity at Jongin’s mom.
Their other mom, the shorter one, gently encouraged the boys with a pat on their heads. “Go on, sweethearts.” Her voice was deeper than her wife’s.
The taller boy waved, his hand flailing wildly in the air. “Hi, I am Seungsoo and I am 9!” he shouted. “And this is Kyungsoo, my baby brother! He’s six!”
Kyungsoo, the smaller boy, smiled. His two front teeth were missing. “Hi,” he said. His voice was quiet, and a little shy.
Jongin’s mom cooed as she greeted them back, introducing herself to the family. “I have two daughters and a son. My eldest daughter is out with her boyfriend, and my second with my husband, but my youngest is only a year younger than Kyungsoo!” She beckoned Jongin towards her from where he was hiding.
Reluctantly, Jongin stepped out from behind the doorframe and padded towards the front door. He ran the last few steps towards his mother, clinging tightly to her long skirt as he hid from the strangers.
Jongin could hear his mom chuckle, the vibrations traveling through her body to his. “He’s a little shy, but he’s a sweet boy.”
Sohye laughed. “Aw, just like our Kyungsoo. He takes awhile to open up to strangers, but I’m sure he would get along just fine with Jongin!”
A little curious, Jongin slowly peeked his head out. The two women were looking fondly at him, and Seungsoo was glancing curiously around the inside of their house. His younger brother, the one who’s only a tiny bit taller than Jongin himself, was staring right at him. His eyes were bug-like, and fascinated, frightening the young alpha quite a bit. Quickly, he hid behind his mom again.
They didn’t exchange a single word that day, what with Jongin being too easily frightened by the other boy and Kyungsoo being far too shy to initiate any contact.
Their first interaction wouldn’t come until a few days later, when their parents forced them to walk to school together. Kyungsoo had pointed out a massive, fat worm lying on the sidewalk directly in Jongin’s path, which caused him to shriek in fear and hide in fear. Creepy crawlies were his worst nightmare, a real fear caused by years of taunting by his older sisters about how people eat worms and spiders and all kinds of gross things in their sleep.
It wasn’t until Kyungsoo had bravely picked up the worm and set it back down in the soil and away from Jongin that Jongin warmed up to him. Anyone that could face disgusting creatures so calmly couldn’t be too bad.
And the rest, as they say, is history. After that, Jongin and Kyungsoo became inseparable.
After Kyungsoo had left their apartment, Jongin firmly pushes the image of him in that shirt out of his mind. He feels weird thinking about it, like it was intrusive and wrong of him.
The next morning, Jongin wakes up to a hand firmly shaking his shoulder. He groans, swatting the hand away as he shifted away from it.
“Jongin.”
He ignores it, burrowing his face deeper into the pillow.
The voice comes again, low and steady. Insistent. “C’mon, Jongin. It’s time to wake up.”
“Go away,” he grumbles out. Petulantly, he pulls at his blankets until they’re covering his head, shielding him from the voice that’s disturbing his slumber. The blankets are instantly and unceremoniously ripped off of him, exposing his body to the cold air.
“Gah—”
A hand shakes at his shoulder again, before slipping down to cradle his jaw, soft and warm. “Jongin.” Through the sleepy fog of his mind, he registers the voice as Kyungsoo’s. His nostrils flare when he smells the omega’s familiar deep, earthy scent fill his room, mingling with his own. It’s comforting. “You have to get up or you’ll be late for class.”
He can’t help it, he leans into the warm touch. His eyes remain closed, and if he tries hard enough, he could fall back asleep with the steady lull of his roommate’s voice.
But then the hand shifts, and he feels Kyungsoo poking his abdomen.
Jongin makes a small noise of displeasure, and curls up away from the prodding finger.
“Jongin, seriously. You need to wake up.” A tinge of impatience enters the voice, but Jongin just sighs in content. Did Kyungsoo always have such a comforting voice? Why did he ever stop reading him bedtime stories? That was the highlight of his life when he was nine.
Silence. A rustle of clothing. Jongin almost falls back to sleep completely before Kyungsoo speaks up again. “Okay, I guess I have no choice...”
Suddenly, a body, small and compact, lands heavily on top of him. Jongin jolts awake, his instincts causing him to flinch from the sudden impact, but he doesn’t react quick enough before Kyungsoo gets his fingers and digs them into Jongin’s ticklish sides. He howls, shrinking away, but the other boy is insistent as he tickles him.
“Kyungsoo, stop, I’m awake! I’m awake!” Jongin twists his body away. For someone so tiny, Kyungsoo is heavy on top of him.
His friend only shakes his head, smiling down at him with his toothy grin. His eyes are curved into crescents, and a little giggle escapes from him. “Why should I? You weren’t listening to me.” He tickles Jongin harder.
Jongin lets out a little laugh, before bucking Kyungsoo off of him. The omega falls off of him and onto the bed beside him with a soft thump, and before he can react, Jongin climbs over top of him and targets where he knows Kyungsoo is most sensitive—down his sides and under his armpit.
“No!” Kyungsoo cries out, his face bunching up into a happy smile. “Stop it, haha, oh no—Jongin, no, you know I hate getting tickled!”
He grins devilishly, before sneaking his fingers underneath Kyungsoo’s shirt. He’s clearly ready to head out for his own class, wearing a soft black hoodie and a pair of black jeans. Jongin snakes his finger over Kyungsoo’s soft skin before digging into his sides. The omega lets out a shriek of laughter, his legs kicking up to block Jongin, but the alpha pins him down firmly.
“This is payback, Soo,” Jongin replies. He sneaks in a little pinch on his tummy—Kyungsoo was never really able to shed the small layer of fat on his tummy on his otherwise small frame—before resuming his tickle attack. “Say mercy!”
“Never,” Kyungsoo chokes out in between peals of laughter. He squirms underneath Jongin, laughing helplessly as Jongin pokes his sides.
“Yeah?” Jongin smirks. “You sure about that?”
His friend lets out another giggle, sending a jolt of delight through Jongin. He’s normally so reserved in public, so much more quiet, it always brings a sense of joy when he realizes just how comfortable and open Kyungsoo is willing to be with him.
“Okay, okay,” Kyungsoo laughs. “Mercy, mercy, we’re both going to be late if we don’t stop.”
Taking pity on the smaller boy, Jongin pauses his movements and rests his hands on Kyungsoo’s waist. His head is thrown back in laughter, and Jongin takes in the happiness apparent on his face, the line of his neck, his scent gland. The tips of his ears are red, but he’s smiling brightly. His gummy grin lighting up his face, his cheeks all bunched up and round and chubby, just exactly like it did when he was 6 years old and saving Jongin from worms. His eyes are still curved in happy crescents, and he’s smiling fondly at Jongin.
All of a sudden, Jongin feels aware of the warm, soft skin under his hands, the comforting scent of the omega that always reminds him of home, and his own heart rate starts beating erratically. He doesn’t know why he’s reacting this way. His face burns, and he hastily climbs off of the omega and the bed. Feigning a cough, he turns to rummage around in his closet for his outfit of the day.
“You’re right,” he says, feeling strangely nervous. He busies himself with his messy closet, fighting to keep haphazardly folded clothing from falling off the shelves. “We should get ready for class.”
Behind him, he hears a shuffling noise as Kyungsoo presumably sits up on his bed. An image of him all rumpled and soft flashes through his mind, but it’s gone before he lets himself linger on it any longer.
“You mean you need to get ready. I’m good to go. Want me to wait for you?”
Still feeling a little out of sorts, Jongin shakes his head. “Nah, you go ahead. Don’t you have class with that prof that takes attendance only in the first 15 minutes of class?”
Kyungsoo sighs, as he climbs out of bed. “Yeah, ugh. You sure?”
“Yeah. I still gotta wash up—you go first.”
“Alright, you better hurry up then. Don’t have made me suffer through your tickling for no reason, Jongin,” Kyungsoo teases on his way out Jongin’s door.
His face burns red-hot again at the reminder. “Um, yeah, whatever,” he sputters awkwardly. He thanks the heavens when he realizes Kyungsoo had already stepped out, and probably didn’t hear his awkward attempt of a recovery.
He doesn’t know what that was—and yesterday too—why he reacted so strongly just at seeing Kyungsoo. At seeing his closest and oldest friend. It makes him feel like he’s lost control of his body, and he doesn’t like it.
Not one bit.
Sehun: gonna go study at the cafe, anyone wanna join
Baekhyun: hah! u? studying?
Jongin: lol
Chanyeol: lol
Sehun: hey i study sometimes
Sehun: this is one of those times
Baekhyun: LMAOOOOOOOOO GL
Sehun: stop being mean to me. i will report u.
Sehun: my boyfriend will sue u
Junmyeon: i’m not suing anyone, sehun
Sehun: boo
Sehun: so is anyone going to keep me or company or not??
Jongin: lmao k i’ll join you
Sehun: this is why you’re my only real bro
Baekhyun: ew stop trying to sound like a straight man
The bell jingles cheerily when Jongin opens the door to Love Cherry Cafe, a warm blast of air hitting him as he walks in. He spots Sehun sitting in the cozy corner of the cafe, bundled up in an oversized sweater and a scarf. The beta always ran cooler than the rest. Leaning up against the table in conversation with Sehun is Jongdae, another beta in their friend group. He’s dressed in his work uniform, clearly on shift at the cafe when Sehun came in.
They both look up when they hear Jongin nearby, greeting him as he pulls out the other chair and slides in.
“Chanyeol and Baekhyun are joining us too,” Sehun says. In front of him, he has several notebooks laid out with his messy scrawling stretched over lined paper. His laptop is on the table, but it’s closed. The beta is enthusiastically digging into a cinnamon bun.
“Why do you guys always come here,” Jongdae complains. With one swift motion, he swipes up Sehun’s plate and takes a huge bite out of the bun, ignoring the younger boy’s protests.
“You would be bored to death at work without us to bother you,” teases Jongin. He copies Jongdae and grabs at the plate before Sehun can take it back. He forks out only a small bite, unwillingly mindful of his diet for his upcoming recital.
“I would actually have a peaceful shift for once,” Jongdae says, but his tone is warm.
The bell chimes a few metres away from them, and they’re greeted with a sudden gust of icy wind as the door opens. Both Chanyeol and Baekhyun step in, chatting animatedly as they enter the cafe. They’re noisy, as always, and Jongin inwardly grimaces when he sees some other patrons glare at the newcomers.
“Aha!” Baekhyun says. The omega points an accusing finger at Sehun, who pauses mid-bite. “I knew you wouldn’t be studying! I was telling Chanyeol, watch, he’s probably just going to bother Jongdae and eat food.”
Sehun guiltily sets down the plate, wiping at his mouth with faux primness. “And what about it?”
The two begin squabbling at each other. Jongdae, in an attempt to shut them up, joins in, but only succeeds in increasing the volume of their conversation. At this point, Jongin is sure that either Jongdae will get in trouble, or their entire group will get kicked out for being a public nuisance.
Beside him, Chanyeol pulls up another chair and drops noisily into it, stretching his long legs out into a lazy sprawl. “Hey,” he says. “You actually planning to study?”
Jongin nods, finally pulling out his laptop from his backpack and setting it on the table. He turns it on, switching between his many tabs before he finds his readings for art history. “Well, I was going to try. But not sure how that’ll work with these idiots here,” he nods at his friends. Jongdae is now whining at maximum capacity.
“Hah, good luck. I’ve only got a one hour break before my next class, I’m just going to chill.”
The cafe is located on the far end of campus, closer to where all the newer student residence buildings are. While Jongin tends to avoid on-campus food establishments because he inevitably runs into acquaintances from lectures, their group found themselves regularly visiting Love Cherry Cafe once Jongdae got hired there. It’s more convenient for the other four, who live in the dorms, than it is for Jongin or Kyungsoo, who would have to make a purposeful trip over here from where they rent their apartment. But on days when they have class, it’s not so bad.
And speaking of which—”No Kyungsoo today?” Chanyeol asks as he shrugs off his duffle coat.
“He’s at rehearsal,” says Jongin. “I think he’ll be busy all day today? His schedule this semester has been hell.”
Kyungsoo is part of the musical theatre club at their university, which is where he met Kim Junmyeon. Coincidentally, he was also the one who introduced Junmyeon to Sehun—he always had a soft spot for the younger beta after they took an Economics class together, of all things—and they began dating shortly after.
Chanyeol makes a sympathetic noise. After Jongin, Chanyeol is probably Kyungsoo’s closest friend, and he knows just how busy the other man has become. Where they would usually spend a lot of studio time together, just jamming and making songs, they haven’t been able to have any sessions yet this year.
“Poor boy,” Chanyeol says. “I miss him and his big head.”
“Who? Kyungsoo?” Baekhyun chimes in suddenly. Chanyeol nods. “His head isn’t that big. It’s just that his body is small.”
Jongdae laughs. The sound of it rings through the cafe, and Jongin notices a student look up from their book to glare at them. “What? I have literally never noticed the size of his head before.”
“That’s because you’re tiny too,” Sehun says.
Jongdae slaps his arm in response, but he ignores it. “That doesn’t even make sense, what the hell—”
“Anyway,” Sehun interrupts. “Back to the more important topic about our beloved Kyungsoo. He’s way too busy lately, does he even have time to unwind?” The last question is directed at Jongin.
Jongin reflects on his own latest interactions with Kyungsoo. He sees him the most in the morning, usually when he accidentally sleeps in and Kyungsoo wakes him up. If he’s lucky, he catches him in the evening for dinner, but he’s been coming home later and later. The night before was an anomaly, where he was home before it was dark out—but then he went back out and came home late, and he never did mention to Jongin where he had gone. But it must have been another work meeting or a meeting with an agent, if he was dressed so nicely.
Beyond that, though, he’s always off to go somewhere--either for school, work, or for his musical theatre endeavours—and coming home only to catch the barest minimum of sleep. He’s always on the move, and Jongin doesn’t think he’s seen him do something for fun in over a month now.
Sehun coughs impatiently as Jongin mulls it over, and in retaliation, Jongin steals the last remaining bite of his bun. “No,” he says, slowly. “I don’t see him as much either.”
“This is it,” Sehun replies. “We have to do something about this. We have to get him laid.” He nods sagely to himself, ignoring the aghast look that Jongin sends him.
“Dude!” Jongdae says, smacking Sehun on the arm. “That’s so weird, don’t say that!”
“What? Seriously, when was the last time he even...” the youngest trails off, stealing a glance at Baekhyun. The omega stills, an uncharacteristically awkward expression taking place on his face.
As everyone in their friend group knows, Kyungsoo has never been the type for flings or hook-ups. Not because he’s a prude, but because of his inherent distrust in other men and how they potentially behave towards other omegas. Jongin understands his qualms, as well as he can as an alpha, as someone who’s not marginalized on the basis of his Secondary. But that just means that if Kyungsoo’s not in a relationship, he’s not having sex with anyone.
—Which is good, or well, it’s fine. It’s whatever. Jongin has never thought about it anyway. It has never been his business to occupy his mind with who Kyungsoo is having sex with or when. Thinking about it just leaves a strange pit in his stomach, a choking feeling that he chalks up to the discomfort of invading his childhood friend’s privacy.
But that means that the last time Kyungsoo had...released any pent up energy that way was when he was still dating Baekhyun. They hadn’t been together too long, just shy of six months, and they broke up two years ago now.
For Jongin, it was a strange period in his friendship with the two omegas. He had always gotten along well with Baekhyun, ever since Chanyeol introduced him to the group during their first year of university. They all lived on the same floor in the first year dorms. Baekhyun and Kyungsoo had gotten along, a fact that made Jongin feel a little uneasy at first, a little insecure whenever he heard his longtime friend mention how well he communicated with Baekhyun.
But he got over that.
After they started dating in their second year of university, though, Jongin felt like he never knew where he fit into the equation of their friendship. Whether it was weird or awkward if he wanted to hang out with Kyungsoo when he was at the dining hall with Baekhyun, if he was an intrusion.
In the end, Kyungsoo had told him in private that there were some things that he wanted in relationships that he wouldn’t be able to get from Baekhyun. His face was apologetic, and he had looked truly crushed.
When they broke up, Jongin’s worries turned to whether or not it would cause a rift in their friend group. And it was awkward at first, but they had gone back to normal in no time; bantering, teasing each other silly, Kyungsoo grabbing the back of Baekhyun’s neck if he was being too loud.
That didn’t mean their break up didn’t require healing though, or that there weren’t hurt feelings, and some serious conversations to work through their friendship. And sometimes, those feelings linger when prodded, even if neither of them were in love with each other anymore.
The table lapses into silence before Baekhyun laughs, a genuine one, that dispels the awkwardness lingering in the air after Sehun’s brash statement. “Okay, I think none of us need to think any longer on this.”
Jongin agrees.
Sehun shrugs, a little apologetically. “Either way, my point still stands. We need him to take a break.”
When they were still children, Jongin used to force Kyungsoo to play games with him where one of them would be the knightly, honourable prince swooping in to save the beloved nation’s princess from the scary, horrible evil villain. This game, to Jongin, was essentially an intangible piece of heritage—passed on down to him from his own sisters, who often forced him to play the princess.
(In retrospect, the designated roles were unnecessarily archaic, especially in a society that no longer enforced heterosexual couplings.)
He never minded being a princess because he loved to play dress up, but he hated the inactivity that came with the role. Playing the princess meant he would have to sit and hide all game, and for a young boy who had more than enough energy to expend even after his ballet lessons, it was too difficult a task.
So when he was finally able to rope both Kyungsoo and Seungsoo into playing the game with him, he took the chance to declare himself either the prince or the villain—either one—and the remaining roles would be left up to the Do brothers.
”Ew, there’s no way I’m going to play anything but the villain. I don’t want to save or be saved by my stinky brother!” Seungsoo protested each time.
“I’m not stinky!” Kyungsoo would then whine, like clockwork, his little face scrunching up into a pout as he stamped his feet.
(Jongin agreed. Kyungsoo was anything but stinky. He always smelled like home, his warm scent enveloping him like a hug once they became close enough friends that Kyungsoo would let Jongin scent him.)
And so Kyungsoo was always the princess, which he was more than happy to play out. Some things never change, and for Kyungsoo, it’s his desire to be: a) lazy and free of sweat. He would rather not exert more physical energy than necessary; b) pampered and spoiled, even if he would never outwardly express it beyond a sad little pout when he wasn’t given the last piece of cake.
(Though he always refused to dress up in pretty dresses and petticoats that Jongin inherited from his older sisters during their games, and still owns somewhere in the back of the closet in his family’s home. He said it made him sweaty and there were too many confusing layers to put on. Jongin always thought this was a shame, because Kyungsoo suited pretty ribbons so well.)
This game they played, long left behind in their early childhood days, set the foundation on how Kyungsoo and Jongin got along with each other.
No, Kyungsoo was not his princess, nor was he passive. He’s an omega male, which Jongin has been aware of since they were young, and Jongin may be an alpha, but he would punch Jongin if he ever demeaned him on the basis of their Secondary.
But for the longest time, this was how they worked: Kyungsoo would often give into Jongin’s demands, his whims, protecting him and humouring him in equal measures—but only if he was equally coddled and spoiled in return. He loved being showered in affection and praise, and would be the first to cling to Jongin’s arms or to hug him when he was feeling needy. This was not necessarily illustrative nor indicative of his omega status—it didn’t matter either way.
This was just Kyungsoo.
Something changed, though. Somewhere in between the painful growing years of middle school and high school, Kyungsoo began to change. It wasn’t something Jongin picked up on at first, or maybe he had chalked it up to them growing older, more mature, and out of old habits.
He does know that it was inscrutable at first. Like Jongin, Kyungsoo is quite shy. Much more reserved, reticent in opening up to people upon first meeting them. But that Kyungsoo was no longer familiar to Jongin, who had broken through those barriers long, long ago when they had first met.
Around Jongin, Kyungsoo had always been a little silly, sometimes even a bit eccentric when he got too excited. When he was particularly bored, he would start making weird noises with his mouth. If Jongin was being too obtuse, he wouldn’t hesitate to badger him a bit, tease him and snark at him until Jongin resorted to tickling the omega in retaliation. Kyungsoo wandered around with his head lost in the clouds sometimes, and was so earnest that it was almost to a fault.
(One time, Jongin gave Kyungsoo a friendship necklace—two small vials of pink sand from the beach they adventured to when they were 12, strung up on a black cord; one for himself, one for the other. He joked around that he made it with his own blood and sweat, infused into the sand, which gave it its rosy colour. Kyungsoo’s eyes had grown round and wide, and his mouth dropped open in shock. “Jonginnie, wow, really? That must have hurt!”
Jongin felt a little bit bad when he had to explain that he was just joking.)
The Kyungsoo he knew was also bubbly behind closed doors, the type to be excited when the food Aunt Eunsoo made tasted particularly good, or when the show he was watching had a tense climatic turn. He didn’t hold back on his emotions with Jongin, and they shared their childhood together, just feeling.
So when Kyungsoo began to turn inward, Jongin had thought that maybe it was a thing that came with age. His own parents were quiet and calm—perhaps it’s the natural path for all adults. He stopped leaning on Jongin’s shoulder when they watched television together, stopped holding his hand when they walked to school, stopped telling Jongin about his day, how his classes went, how Chanyeol and Jongdae got in trouble for being disruptive in class again by their Korean History teacher.
And eventually, it felt as if Kyungsoo stopped wanting to be around Jongin, too. He flinched away from his touch, avoided conversations with him when they crossed paths in the hallway.
Then, he started dressing differently. His pants became baggier, too long for his short legs. His shirts were two sizes too big, and then they were padded around the shoulders. The shoes he wore had insoles in them, lifting his height up at least three inches. And what puzzled Jongin the most—he started talking differently, with purposefully mature inflections that added age to his tone. His voice was sombre, pitched deeper than it usually was. It was almost as if he was afraid to express any emotions.
(Which was weird to Jongin. Kyungsoo had a naturally low, soothing tone. Why would he need to change that?)
At first, Jongin gave Kyungsoo his space, wanting to respect his privacy. They were best friends, yes, but he knew there were still boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed between the closest of friends. But as his behaviour persisted, and he became quieter and quieter—even around Chanyeol, who always incited the most explosive emotions from Kyungsoo—Jongin knew something was up. Something was wrong.
He tried talking to the older boy. Letting him know that Jongin was there for him, if there was anything he wanted to share. When Kyungsoo continued to brush him off, denials falling easily from his lips, Jongin began to push a little harder.
“Kyungsoo,” he had said. Jongin was standing in the doorway to Kyungsoo’s bedroom, his path into the room blocked by the omega himself. It was so unlike them, when usually Jongin was given an all-access pass into the room. He didn’t remember a time when he wasn’t allowed in, not until now.
The omega in question had his eyes trained somewhere on Jongin’s shoulder, shirking eye contact. His shoulders were hunched, pulled up close to his ears.
He didn’t answer.
Worry striked through Jongin’s heart, and he reached a hand out—he wasn’t sure to do what, whether to clasp onto Kyungsoo’s hand or to shake his shoulders, but it didn’t matter. Kyungsoo flinched away from his hand, taking a step back further into the room.
A few seconds passed. It was silent, unnaturally so. “Kyungsoo,” Jongin tried again, slowly this time. He tried to modulate his voice, somehow afraid that if he let his own anxieties seep through, it would scare Kyungsoo away even more than he already was. “Kyungsoo, I’m worried.”
At last, the other boy reacted. He visibly tensed, forcing his shoulders back as he jutted his chin out at Jongin. “I’m fine, Jongin. You have nothing to worry about, I told you this before.”
“You’re acting differently. We haven’t hung out in ages and you don’t even talk to me, or Chanyeol or Jongdae either. This doesn’t seem like ‘fine’ to me!”
Kyungsoo steeled his voice—the strange, deeper one that sounded unnatural to Jongin. “I’ve been busy.”
“There’s being busy and there’s—there’s this,” Jongin replied. He ran a hand through his hair, agitated. It felt like he was talking to a brick wall. “This isn’t like you at all.”
Something flashed through Kyungsoo’s eyes; anger, but not quite. An unnameable emotion that was bruising, hurt, and vulnerable. “Well, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do,” Kyungsoo said.
Despite himself, Jongin could feel himself getting frustrated. Kyungsoo could be stubborn at times, but never like this. Never so unreasonably. “Seriously, Kyungsoo. What’s going on with you? I’m worried as your friend. Is something wrong?”
He reached again toward his friend, wanting to comfort him somehow, or maybe himself. But then Kyungsoo exploded, shoving Jongin away from him. He was bristling, his fists clenched, eyes blazing. “Just leave me alone and stop treating me like a fucking omega who needs an alpha to save him! I’m not your useless little princess, okay?”
Jongin jolted back, Kyungsoo’s outburst shocking him. He had never, ever once thought of Kyungsoo as a damsel in distress because of his Secondary.
As an alpha, he knew that he inherently possessed a degree of privilege in a society that conflated masculinity and superiority with his designation. Omegas were often treated unfairly, often demeaned as being lesser somehow. Even with so many years passing, with countless global movements pushing for omega rights and equity for all Secondary genders, the hatred against perceived femininity persisted and tainted the eyes of a society who valued alpha traits above all else.
Of course, much of these reflections came later for Jongin, too, after they both started attending university and found the space to learn about gender rights—both Primary and Secondary. The Jongin here, the one facing down Kyungsoo in his family’s cozy old apartment, was still a teenager who didn’t understand the intrinsic shame that came from being an omega. He was a boy with a warm heart, with a great family to teach him to be good to others, but he couldn’t understand the hurt that Kyungsoo was feeling.
What he did understand, though, was the way Kyungsoo suddenly seemed to shrink. Even under all that baggy clothing, the padded shoulders, his friend appeared smaller than ever. His shoulders were hunched, eyes suddenly downcast. His usually comforting earthy scent became acrid, sour to Jongin’s nose. The other boy looked bogged down, weighed by an unknown demon to Jongin. Above all else, he looked...sad.
And Jongin’s heart broke.
“Kyungsoo,” he said, his voice dropping down to a hushed whisper. “You...you know I wouldn’t...”
The other boy deflated. Kyungsoo sighed, pushing his glasses higher on his nose bridge. “Not on purpose, I know you wouldn’t. But...” He trailed off, scratching at his eyebrow as he visibly collected his words. “But you’re an alpha after all. How can you know how this feels?”
“Did I do anything? I don’t want to—you’re my best friend, Kyungsoo. I don’t want to be something that hurts you.” Jongin said. He was earnest, serious. If there was some alpha stereotype about being brutish and arrogant that he was living up to, he wanted to know and he wanted to change that.
Kyungsoo sighed again. He took a minute step closer to Jongin, and reached a small hand out, taking Jongin’s in his with a small, wry smile. It was the first time in weeks that Kyungsoo had touched him. He missed it.
“You’re a good friend, Jongin. It’s not you, not really.” He hesitated then, thumb stroking small, smoothing circles into Jongin’s skin. “It’s some other knotheads at school.”
A sliver of worry embedded itself in Jongin’s heart again. “Did...did something happen?”
Silence.
“Kyungsoo?”
“I-I’m okay, I can handle it. Just some annoying assholes at school have been bothering me lately.”
With some reluctance, Kyungsoo confessed about a couple of alphas in his grade that had taken up the habit of cornering him in between classes—where he was away from his friends, from Jongin—and harassing him.
Even though Kyungsoo had never disclosed his Secondary beyond his closest friends, he was always built small, and he was cute with his round cheeks and rounder eyes. They saw the way Kyungsoo would hold Jongin’s hand or would get swept into a hug by Chanyeol, and came to their own conclusions about his gender. They would grab onto him, with just enough force that Kyungsoo had difficulties breaking away, and say awful, awful things about how omegas belong at the bottom of the pack, and what they do to omegas like him.
This would happen several times a week.
“It would just be easier if I wasn’t an omega,” Kyungsoo said. “That’s why...that’s why I want to show that I’m not like those omega. I’m not weak.”
Jongin’s heart broke as he listened his friend. There was a hint of contempt in his voice as he talked about his own Secondary, a note of defeat that made Jongin want to gather him up in his arms and to tell him that he was perfect the way he is, that he’s not worth less because of his Secondary.
And just as much, he wanted to find those alphas, to rip them to pieces. Grab them, shake them, yell in their faces about how wonderful Kyungsoo was, how he was miles and miles above them, and how could they even dare to approach him, to touch him—
—but Kyungsoo would hate that. So he didn’t.
Instead, he listened. He comforted Kyungsoo where he could, assured him that he was perfect exactly the way he was, that he never needed to change. He stood by his side, in only the best ways that Jongin knew he could do.
All throughout high school, Jongin watched as Kyungsoo armed himself with protective layers against omega stereotyping. He tried his best to become as “un-omega” as possible. “I don’t want people to think I’m omega-like,” he said.
It wasn’t until Kyungsoo moved out—with Jongin following close on his heels—to university in the big city that Kyungsoo began to meet more omegas. Jongin knew Baekhyun played a big role in that, the other omega having been involved with Secondary activism for quite some time.
It took awhile, but Kyungsoo become more comfortable with himself and his Secondary once more. That it was okay to be soft and gentle, and he wasn’t any lesser because he wanted to be kind and because he was also an omega. That the idea of “breaking stereotypes” was never for his own benefit, that it didn’t make him happier, it wasn’t anything more than living up to the preconceived values of alpha superiority created by a violent society against omegas.
He smiled more, worried less about meeting new people. Kyungsoo grew to like himself more. Jongin continued loving him.
As a friend.
A best friend.
A haze of images flash through Jongin’s mind, shapes of people, swathes of pale skin. The feeling of plush lips on his, a hand combing through his hair, a gentle kiss to his scent gland. His hand moves slowly, as if through water, before landing on something warm and soft. And squishy? But then a moan, nearly indistinguishable beyond the roaring in his ears, distracts him. A glowing outline blurs the edges and corners of the silhouettes, making them indiscernible to him. He reaches out, feeling desperate to hear that sound again, and—
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
The sound of his alarm rips Jongin out from his sleep, away from his dream, and he barely has a moment to feel disappointed before his body involuntarily jolts awake so violently, that he finds himself pitching over the edge of the bed and crashing hard onto the floor.
“Fuck,” he groans, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He lies there for a few more moments, unwilling to move. His dream comes back to him in waves, the sensation of skin on skin, lips on lips. Who was he dreaming about? The answer doesn’t come to him, and he shrugs it off. Another nameless face, most likely.
Jongin forces himself off the floor and quickly heads for the washroom to brush his teeth. Dance practice is in half an hour, and he curses whoever thought it was a good idea to hold practices on the weekend.
In their small apartment, Jongin has to pass through the kitchen in order to reach the only washroom in their flat. He shivers as he pads through the short hallway, his skin pebbling in the cold. One step into their kitchen has him wincing, the tiles feeling like ice underneath his bare feet.
“Jongin?” Kyungsoo’s soft voice comes from behind him.
He turns around, and squints at the blurry figure of his roommate sitting at the kitchen table. His glasses are still somewhere in his bedroom, but he thinks he makes out a mug set out in front of Kyungsoo. Probably coffee. “Oh, hey, you’re up early!”
“Um—uh, y-yeah,” Kyungsoo stutters out. His hand is paused in the air, as if interrupted by Jongin’s entrance.
Jongin tilts his head to the side. That’s weird. Why is Kyungsoo acting so jumpy? “You okay?”
The vague blob-like shape of Kyungsoo startles a little. “Yeah!” his voice breaks a little on the syllable, and he clears his throat. “I mean—yes. Um, your shirt—I mean. What I mean to say is, a-aren’t you cold?”
Frowning, he looks down at himself. He’s shirtless, nipples pebbled in the cold and dark line of hair trailing down into his flannel pyjama pants.. He scratches at his abs a little in thought, and hears Kyungsoo setting his mug down on the table with a loud thud. “A little,” he says with a shrug. “I’m just going to quickly get ready and get my contacts in first though.”
“Oh,” says Kyungsoo. His voice still sounds a little weird, but Jongin chalks it up him probably having not been awake for long yet. “Dance practice today?”
“Yeah, ugh,” he says, with great feeling. “Wish I could have slept in today.”
He hears Kyungsoo hum a little in response, his figure still blurry from their distance. “You have stuff going on today too?” Jongin asks.
“Mm. I have an appointment, and then I’m meeting up with a classmate for a group project later.”
“That sucks,” Jongin says sympathetically. He knows how much Kyungsoo hates group projects. “For which class?”
“Korean literature. We have a presentation on some historical comedy piece set during the Joseon Dynasty,” Kyungsoo replies. Jongin thinks he sees Kyungsoo shrug, his narrow shoulders moving up and down, movement too blurry to tell. “It wasn’t that good, but the person I’m working with is funny and he’s been holding his own weight so far.”
“Sounds like a long day.” He scratches at his face, the rasp of his stubble reminding him that he needs to shave. “Do you think you’ll have any free time later? I don’t know if you saw the group chat, but we’re going to Minseok’s place today.”
“Oh, no, I haven’t had time to check the chat. When are you heading over?”
“Maybe around 7? We’ll be there for awhile though, you should come if you can,” says Jongin.
The other boy stands up, walking over to the sink to wash his mug, and Kyungsoo has to speak a little louder over the sound of water. “I’ll try my best. I really miss everyone.”
There’s a note of sadness in his voice, just enough that has Jongin itching to get closer to Kyungsoo and hug him. He imagines pacing up to him, wrapping his arms around his back. How perfectly Kyungsoo would fit in his arms, how he would be the perfect height for him to rest his chin on. The way the tip of his ears would turn red...
Jongin clears his throat. “We miss you. Sehun’s been acting out more than usual without you to reign him in.”
At that, Kyungsoo laughs. “Aw, he’ll survive. Really though, I’m sorry my schedule has been horrible lately. I should have some free time coming up soon.” He shuts off the water, and turns to face Jongin again. “We should hang out as soon as we have more time. Just the two of us.”
“Yeah,” Jongin says. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “That sounds perfect.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” There’s an earnestness in Kyungsoo’s voice that makes Jongin want to pause, rewind, and bask in it. “But you should probably get ready, Jonginnie. You only have ten minutes to get ready for practice.”
Fuck. He rushes over to the washroom, calling out over his shoulder to a laughing Kyungsoo. “Shit—thanks, Soo. Let me know if you can make it tonight!” Behind him, he hears the omega agree.
As Jongin completes his morning routine, he replays his conversation with Kyungsoo in his mind. It’s yet another day where their interactions are limited to the few passing, precious minutes as they move from one place to another.
But as always, he clings to these, relishing in the warmth it offers to start his day.
By the time he reaches Minseok’s apartment, the sun has long set. In one hand, he’s carrying the remnants of his bubble tea from his dinner out with Yixing, his closest friend and another member on the dance team. Usually, he joins them and their movie nights, but he might be the only other person in their friend group with a schedule that was even worse than Kyungsoo’s.
The condensation from the slush making the plastic cup slippery in his hands, and it takes him a few moments before he’s able to maneuver his free hand to unzip the bag, take out his phone, and to text the group chat to let them know he’s there. The buzzer to Minseok’s place no longer works, a fact that vexes him to no end with each passing day that his landlord doesn’t get it fixed.
Junmyeon: I’m coming down to get you
Jongin: ok thx
Jongin doesn’t have to wait much longer for Junmyeon to open the door to the lobby and usher him in. The other boy is dressed nicely, in an expensive cashmere sweater and neatly pressed pants.
“Had a date with Sehun?” Jongin asks.
The other man blushes, but nods. “He took me to a nice restaurant.”
“With whose money?” Jongin teases. They’re all broke college students; except Minseok, who’s the only one graduated of all of them and with a permanent, full-time position, and Junmyeon, who comes from a wealthy family.
Junmyeon just punches him in the arm in response.
Minseok’s apartment is on the 7th floor, and it looks the same as it always did—warm, cozy, and incredibly neat. As the only one of them who lives alone and has the biggest apartment, they tend to congregate there during their monthly movie and games night.
Shucking off his shoes, Jongin lines them up as neatly as possible next to the row of footwear near the entry door, and shuffles into a pair of guest slippers that Minseok leaves in a basket for that purpose. He can hear yelling coming from the living room, and when he comes into the view of the rest, he can see it’s Baekhyun screaming over Chanyeol’s shoulder as the taller boy plays Overwatch on Minseok’s laptop.
On the couch is Sehun, slumped over and concentrated on the phone in his hand. He looks up when Jongin arrives, greeting him before opening his arms wide for Junmyeon to flop into. Sehun presses a kiss to the tip of Junmyeon’s ear before going back to his phone.
“Where’s Jongdae and Minseok?” Jongin asks the couple. Chanyeol and Baekhyun are clearly too absorbed in the game to acknowledge him right now.
Sehun shrugs, jostling Junmyeon who frowns. “I think in the kitchen? You didn’t see them coming in?”
Jongin shakes his head. “I heard that one—” Jongin nods towards Baekhyun “—screaming, so I beelined here.”
“Hey, you would be screaming too if you could see how badly Chanyeol is playing right no—get on the point, get on the point!” Baekhyun yells, even louder than before.
“Shut up, you’re ruining my concentration!” Chanyeol retorts, eyebrows furrowing before he throws his hands up and slumps back in his chair, ripping the headset off. “Fuck, we lost.”
Immediately, the two start arguing with each other. Jongin shakes his head, taking a sip of his melted bubble tea slush. He sits on the couch, landing heavily on Sehun’s sprawled out long legs and ignores the whine coming from the beta.
He catches a sudden whiff of something delicious, and Jongdae and Minseok enter not long after. In Jongdae’s arms is a massive platter of nachos, slathered in gooey, cheesy goodness. Minseok is carrying the various dips, along with a six-pack of beer.
“Oh hey, Jongin, sorry I couldn’t come get you earlier. Jongdae and I were prepping some snacks in the kitchen,” says Minseok. The eldest comes over and offers a beer to Jongin, who shakes his head, gesturing at his unfinished bubble tea.
Baekhyun gets up to help Jongdae clear off the small coffee table, stacking some of the magazines on the floor. “Jongdae, Chanyeol lost,” he says dramatically.
“Again? You suck,” Jongdae says, and Chanyeol throws his arms up in faux outrage.
“No one cares about me in this family!” the taller man sulks.
Jongin’s phone vibrates in his pocket, and he hands the bubble tea off to Sehun to pick up his phone. It’s a text from Kyungsoo.
Kyungsoo 💕: We finished our meeting early...is everyone there? I can head over now if it’s not too late
Jongin: just got here. come through!!!
Jongin: if u get here quick enough i can give u my leftover bubble tea : D
Kyungsoo 💕: Then I better hurry over, huh :-P
“What are you smiling at?” Sehun asks, poking his foot into Jongin’s butt.
He swats at the beta’s leg. “Ow, leave my butt alone. And nothing. Just Kyungsoo saying he can make it tonight.”
His friends cheer, a little dramatically at the news. The argument between Jongdae, Chanyeol, and Baekhyun quickly forgotten as they instead move onto discussing how long it’s been since they had time to properly hang out with Kyungsoo.
Sehun snorts, but he complies, shifting his legs away from Jongin. “What butt, flat ass?” But then he smiles, a little knowing smile that unnerves Jongin a little. “Anyway. Oh, so that’s why you’re smiling.”
“What’s that look for?” Jongin asks, suspicion threading through his words.
“Nothing,” says Sehun, but the mischievous look on his face remains. “Just glad that Kyungsoo can finally join us.”
Baekhyun lets out a whoop of happiness as he dives onto the couch, landing on top of Junmyeon and Sehun. He wraps his arms around them both, ignoring their muffled protests. “We just need Yixing too, and then we’d be complete again.”
It takes another half an hour before Kyungsoo arrives. The smaller man stumbles in from the cold, wrapped cozily in a big, blanket scarf and a toque on his head. His cheeks are ruddy, and the tip of his nose is a little bit pink. Jongin wants to press a hand to his face—to help warm him up as a good friend would do, of course.
The room erupts in noisy greetings, and before giving him a chance to settle down, Chanyeol immediately hugs Kyungsoo, lifting him straight off the ground. “I missed you!”
Kyungsoo breaks into his fond smile, the one where he quirks up one side of his lips, and pats Chanyeol on the head. “Put me down, you big lug.” As soon as Chanyeol sets him back on the ground, Baekhyun is there to wrap his own arms around the smaller omega.
As happy as Jongin is to see Kyungsoo, his stomach suddenly feels a little weird. The bubble tea must not be settling well, he thinks, and he stares down at his phone, pretending to be occupied by a text.
He feels a small hand shoving at his shoulder, and he looks up. His roommate is smiling at him, his toque all askew from the rough handling from both Chanyeol and Baekhyun. “Hey,” he says. His voice is soft, with the kind of gentleness that Jongin knows he reserves for him.
“Hi,” Jongin replies, a little stupidly.
There’s something enrapturing about him, the way he looks all soft and bundled up. His eyes trace over Kyungsoo’s wind-mussed hair, his bangs falling over his forehead in a way that most likely annoys the omega. His glasses have smudges on them from where Kyungsoo pushes them up. Jongin finds himself surprised by how soft and moisturized Kyungsoo’s lips look—for himself, his always become inescapably chapped in the frigid, winter air.
“...Aren’t you going to make room for me on the couch?” Kyungsoo asks.
Sehun kicks at Jongin again, aiming for his thigh this time. “No, he’s struck stupid right now.” Kyungsoo tilts his head in confusion, eyes widening at Sehun in a silent ask. “Nevermind. Come sit with me instead, Kyungsoo.”
To Jongin’s dismay, the omega happily bounds over to Sehun’s side of the couch, pushing Junmyeon off of Sehun without hesitation. He ignores Junmyeon’s sharp ”hey!” and settles into Sehun’s side. The tall beta immediately wraps his arms around Kyungsoo.
“Looks like we both got ditched,” Junmyeon says to Jongin sadly.
“Have we decided what movie we want to watch already?” Kyungsoo asks. He finally takes off his outer layers, and folds them into a neat pile on his lap with his hat on top. There’s a few wayward strands of hair sticking up on his head, and Jongin reaches past Junmyeon a little awkwardly to smooth them down. Kyungsoo rewards him with a sweet smile.
“Yeah, it’s some manhwa adaptation that Chanyeol wanted to watch. You okay with that?” Jongdae says through a mouthful of nachos. Kyungsoo nods.
“There’s beer in the fridge if you want some, Soo,” Minseok says from where he’s leaning on Jongdae’s shoulder on the floor in front of the couch.
“Oh, that sounds nice right now.” Kyungsoo stands up again and heads for the kitchen. In his absence, Junmyeon immediately scrambles back to Sehun’s side. The younger boy chuckles.
When Kyungsoo comes back again, he automatically fills the now unoccupied cushion to Jongin’s left, settling down comfortably next to him. As if by habit, Kyungsoo rests his hand high up on Jongin’s thigh as he sits down before settling it back in his own lap. It leaves an imprint, warm through Jongin’s jeans, for the rest of the night.
Halfway through the movie, Jongin watches out of the corner of his eye as Kyungsoo’s head droops, nodding once or twice before he shakes himself awake again. His eyes look increasingly bleary, and he rubs at his eyes in an attempt to stay awake.
It’s kind of cute, Jongin thinks. Like a little otter scrubbing its face.
It’s not long until Kyungsoo falls asleep entirely, his head landing on Jongin’s shoulder as he stops resisting the draw of rest. His soft, deepened breathing is a soothing rhythm to Jongin’s ears.
He stays silent, enjoying the warmth of Kyungsoo’s body against his, even as the rest of their friends run a constant stream of commentary throughout the film. Even long after his shoulder becomes numb, body aching from holding itself so stiffly in case he accidentally jostles Kyungsoo awake, Jongin finds himself basking in his deep, earthy scent filling up Jongin’s senses like a familiar blanket from home.
“Kyungsoo,” Jongin whispers, shaking his shoulder. “We’re home.”
The taxi driver looks at them in contempt through the rearview mirror as he impatiently waits for them to get out of his cab. “12,740₩,” he says, tapping on the metre.
Scrambling for his wallet, Jongin quickly passes him the correct amount before turning his attention back to Kyungsoo and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that the older boy is awake, even if only partly. His eyes are half-lidded and he’s pouting, his plump lower lip jutting out in confusion.
“We’re home now,” Jongin repeats. “C’mon, let’s go in.”
Kyungsoo makes a soft questioning noise, his eyes sliding shut again. “M’sleepy, Jongin.”
“I know, I know. Let’s go in and you can sleep right away.”
The omega eyes blink open, and he turns looks at Jongin through his eyelashes. “Help me?” His doe eyes take on a pleading look, even more effective than normal with his childish pout. Kyungsoo extends his arms towards Jongin, and waits.
“You want me to carry you up?” Jongin asks, a little disbelieving.
Kyungsoo nods once, before deciding that lifting his head up was too much work. He drops back down against the backseat, his chubby cheeks squishing against the leather.
“I have other passengers I need to pick up,” the driver reminds them brusquely.
Not wanting to risk the ire of the driver even more, Jongin hurriedly steps out of the cab before reaching back in to sweep his arms underneath Kyungsoo’s, who automatically intertwines his arms around Jongin’s neck. With a groan, he lifts and pulls him out, staggering a little under his weight. His back protests from the strain, but he ignores it as Kyungsoo wraps his legs around Jongin’s waist and clings like a little koala bear.
“Ugh, you’re heavier than you look,” Jongin complains. He thanks the driver, who speeds off immediately without another word, and starts climbing the stairs towards their apartment. Already falling back asleep, Kyungsoo only makes a happy noise in response and hooks his chin over Jongin’s shoulder.
By the time they’ve made it to their door, Jongin is panting and sweating. Kyungsoo’s no help—he can hear the omega softly snoring away in his ear, completely dead weight at the moment. He thanks the heavens that they have a key-card system instead of having to fumble with a heavy set of keys, and he swiftly digs the card out of his pocket and taps against the reader.
He makes it to Kyungsoo’s bedroom with minimal difficulties navigating through the dark apartment, but he accidentally drops the older boy heavily onto his bed, his arms unable to sustain the weight any longer. Jongin sits on the edge of the mattress, trying to catch his breath through panting gasps.
“That was legitimately a work out, Kyungsoo,” he chides, but Kyungsoo just mumbles something in his sleep and snuffles closer to Jongin.
It feels like the first time in ages where he’s actually been able to spend any real time with Kyungsoo, and Jongin feels a little reluctant to leave his roommate’s side when he’s in a rare state of being so sleep-soft and snuggly. Something about the way Kyungsoo is curled up, nose scrunched up and mouth still stuck in a pout has him wanting to coo.
The other boy rolls onto his back, and then he’s staring blearily at Jongin. “Jongin?” he says, making grabby hands at Jongin. His movements are uncoordinated, and Jongin grabs onto one of his flailing hands to calm him.
“Hm?”
“It’s hot,” the omega says. Even in his sleep-thick voice, Jongin can hear the almost childish displeasure threading through his tone. He leaves his hand in Jongin’s.
“Take your sweater off then, silly,” Jongin says, fondly stroking the soft skin of his palm. Kyungsoo’s hands are so small in his.
Kyungsoo wiggles a little, clearly too comfortable to move. “Help,” he whines. Jongin heaves a heavy sigh in response, but he doesn’t mind helping Kyungsoo. It doesn’t hurt to pamper him a little, with how hard he’s been working.
He wrestles the sweater off of him after a brief struggle with the other boy’s uncooperative limbs. The t-shirt he’s wearing underneath has risen up a few inches after the struggle, revealing another shirt underneath.
No wonder he’s feeling overheated, Jongin thinks, if he’s been wearing two layers of shirts under his hoodie.
“Kyungsoo? You’re wearing two layers still. Do you want to take one of them off?”
The omega turns back onto his side, facing Jongin. His face is smushed into the pillow, and when he shakes his head, it’s barely visible with how deeply he’s buried himself in the cushion. His eyes fall close again, and he reaches for Jongin’s hand.
“Kyungsoo?”
“Nooo,” he whines again. “S’fine. My chest is too sensitive right now.”
Suddenly, Jongin remembers the way his chest looked just a couple nights before in that silk shirt of his—plumper and distractingly noticeable in a way that he’s never noticed before. He doesn’t know why, but he feels his ears burn at his words, at the image of it, and he drops Kyungsoo’s hand back onto the bed like hot coal.
He stands up, wiping his palms on his jeans. “You should rest,” he says. “Good night, Soo. Sweet dreams.”
The smaller boy makes a muffled noise, and Jongin turns to leave the room. Just as he’s heading for the door, he notices a piece of paper left on Kyungsoo’s desk. It has the university’s doctor’s office header on it, with the heading “Leave of Absence Authorization” at the top.
He doesn’t read more of it, not wanting to intrude of his friend’s privacy—but pang of worry hits Jongin nonetheless. Is Kyungsoo feeling unwell? He has never been the type to miss classes, even when sick. But he has been overworking himself lately, and he’s seemed tired, more sluggish on the nights where Jongin is able to catch him before heading to bed himself.
Making a mental note to check up on Kyungsoo the next day, Jongin heads for his own room.
The next day couple of days, however, has Kyungsoo amping up his schedule even more. He doesn’t come home for dinner a few nights in a row, electing instead to grab a quick snack from the campus grocery store.
“I’ve been trying to get ahead of my course load,” Kyungsoo had quickly explained on his way out the door one morning. “So I’ve been holing up in the library.”
With each passing day, Jongin’s worries only increase. He wonders, briefly, if Kyungsoo is struggling with something internally like when they were younger and he was getting bullied--but Kyungsoo hasn’t been any less cheerful and content around him or their friends, even if he seems more fatigued.
On Thursday, he finally resolves to have a proper conversation with Kyungsoo about it. He mulls over what he’ll ask as he walks with Yixing to the dance studio for practice.
(Is he feeling okay? Why is he taking time off school? Why hasn’t he talked to Jongin about it? Does he miss Jongin as much as Jongin misses him?)
Next to him, Yixing rambles on about a funny story that Baekhyun told him when they went out for dinner the previous night. Jongin nods along, only half-listening.
In the distance, he suddenly picks up a familiar laugh, the one that goes higher pitched at the end when he feels particularly amused by something. The one that often accompanies a bright smile, the round curve of cheeks, and eyes closed in happiness. Jongin swings his head, automatically seeking the source of the laugh—and sees Kyungsoo.
He’s walking at a leisurely pace along the student boulevard, presumably to his next class. But he’s not alone.
Next to Kyungsoo is another man. He’s tall, at least a head taller than the omega, with dark hair that falls perfectly styled across his forehead. Even from the distance, Jongin can tell that the other man is smiling down at Kyungsoo as he talks animatedly, hands waving in dramatic gestures. His cheeks are dimpled, and his grin is crookedly handsome.
Whatever he’s saying, Kyungsoo must be delighted by it.
Jongin watches as they walk together, the two men’s attention completely wrapped up in each other as they continue their conversation. In the background, Yixing prattles on, but it becomes white noise to his ears. There’s a discomfort rising in his stomach, and lodges in his throat. His eyes feel stuck on the two of them, and he can’t pinpoint why he can’t move away, why he feels this discomforted.
It must be a new friend of Kyungsoo’s. He wonders if Kyungsoo has mentioned him before. The other man isn’t someone Jongin recognizes, and the way they seem to be in their own world must mean that they must know each other quite well by now. Has Kyungsoo been hanging out with him lately? Is that why he’s been so busy?
The taller man says something, and it sparks another burst of laughter from Kyungsoo. They’re inaudible now, having walked much further ahead, but suddenly all of Jongin’s breath is gone because Kyungsoo is doing that thing, the one that Jongin prides himself in being able to incite, where he throws his head back in laughter before he curls up closer to you and grabs onto your bicep, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. Kyungsoo’s friend chuckles, his eyes crinkling in apparent fondness, and he slings his arm around the smaller boy’s shoulder and drags him closer.
Kyungsoo doesn’t move away.
“—and then he said, “waboom!” Oh, Baekhyun, he’s such a strange one,” Yixing continues.
Jongin breathes, having stopped without him even realizing. The strange feeling in his stomach hasn’t dissipated, but instead, feels heavier, lingering like a stain. Kyungsoo and his friend are no longer in view, but he feels no less better.
Why does he feel this way?
A hand comes around his shoulder, and he jumps. “Are you listening?” asks Yixing. He hears a tinge of worry in the other dancer’s voice.
“I’m-” Jongin forces his attention back to Yixing, physically turning his body away from the direction Kyungsoo had went in. Out of sight, out of mind. “I’m—yeah. I’m good. What were you saying?”
His friend is silent for a moment. “Everything okay? You seemed a little distracted.”
Jongin sucks in a breath through his teeth, and lets it out. The pit in his stomach is still there, and it rests uneasy with him. He doesn’t like feeling this way, especially not when it concerns his best friend. “Yeah, just—I just saw Kyungsoo and got sidetracked for a moment.”
“Oh,” Yixing responds, dubiously, as if doubting the truthfulness in Jongin’s answer. He hesitates, before continuing. “We should’ve said hi!”
He shakes his head, and starts walking again. They must have stopped in their tracks at some point without him realizing it. “Nah, he was with a friend.”
“Oh? Who?”
Shrugging one shoulder, Jongin shakes his head again. “Dunno. Didn’t recognize him. Seemed close though, they were acting kinda touchy.”
“Ah.” There’s a weird lilt to his voice, in the way he pronounces the syllable. When Jongin glances at his friend, the other alpha has a knowing look on his face.
“What?” he asks, suspicious.
The alpha only shrugs his shoulders ambivalently, and claps a hand to Jongin’s shoulder. “Did it bother you? Seeing them together?”
His question rests uneasy with Jongin as he pictures Kyungsoo and the other man again, the two of them laughing together, leaning in close and sharing the same space. The chasm in his chest expands once more, and it makes his hackles rise. Something about the image makes him want to—to ask Kyungsoo if they’re okay, him and Jongin, if he was lying about being in the library lately, if he was avoiding Jongin, if he’s still Jongin’s best friend.
Something about the sight of the two of them together leaves him unsettled. It feels wrong. He doesn’t like it, like he’s not in control of his own body.
“No,” Jongin lies. “Just wondering who he was.”
Yixing doesn’t look like he believes him, but he nods along anyway. “Well, I’m sure you’ll find out soon. Kyungsoo always tells you everything.”
Jongin nods, but that weird feeling in his chest only grows.
(Does he?)