Chapter Text
Min Yoongi met Jung Hoseok in a thunderstorm.
The ground underneath him was soft and yielding, the mud seeping into his paws with each moment he spends idle. The rain was unforgiving, soaking deep into his bones like it was trying to flood him from the inside, until he was as squishy and heavy as the dirt under him.
Shouts echoed in-between the moaning of the wind, sounds of fighting in the distance sending a spark up Yoongi’s spine. His ears circle desperately to hear anything over the deafening claps of thunder that make the sky shake in fear, desperately trying to hear any sign of his pack.
Around him, what must have been tranquil territory for the pack was unrecognisable as a battlefield, the heavy weight of the dark sky stripping away any lingering comfort. Members of Yoongi’s pack flitted in and out of the shadows, moving as one formless shape in the dark. The rival pack was scattered, baying and howling over the thunder drowning out their cries. Each flash of lightening illuminated the wolves slumped on the ground, unmoving as their blood dilutes in the rain.
“Yoongi!”
At once, Yoongi breaks his silence, raising to his feet as he strains his ears towards the barely audible source. His soaking wet fur only weighs him down, hanging as heavy as a funeral shroud as he struggles against it.
It’s only when he moves does he remember the reason why he waited in the dark to rest. Pain bites hard on his flank, the lingering sensation of sharp teeth digging deep enough in his skin to draw blood enough to make his walking slow and deliberate. Mud gathers uncomfortably between his claws, threatening to drag him into the dirt. Grinding his teeth together, Yoongi claws out of the hole of desperate confusion he’d cornered himself in, ignoring the thunder setting his fur on edge and the rain hiding his enemies from him. Stepping over the body of the wolf whose teeth are tinged pink with his blood, he returns back to his pack from his solitude.
Yoongi’s the only heir of the Head Alpha, and while he was snivelling like a pup at the blood matting his side, his pack was fighting, winning, lunging towards a victory without fear. The rival pack had stolen their resources and challenged their dominance, and the insult wasn’t one to be taken lightly.
Wading through the mud, Yoongi keeps going. He’s an alpha. It doesn’t matter how confused or hurt he is. He won’t stop fighting until he’s dead.
“Yoongi!”
The voice, weak and shrill over the howling of the wind, beckons him closer.
Weaving between the destroyed huts of the rival pack, the territory is unfamiliar but the adrenaline is not. Yoongi scans his surroundings through the dark, his hearing muffled from the thunder sending something primal inside him into a frenzy. Dragging his chewed leg and sore flank through the mud, he’s interrupted by a wolf colliding into him at full speed.
Planting his paws firmly into the soft mud, Yoongi bares his teeth to show the sharpness of them, spinning on his attacker. Through the rippling shadows, he trains his gaze on the vulnerable slope of the wolf’s neck, the lightning briefly bathing them in a blinding white.
However, the wolf doesn’t attack. They take a step back, showing Yoongi their neck in submission. Uncertain of a trick, Yoongi’s confused enough to growl, a low, threatening sound that dares them to attack. The wolf’s only response is to shift, limbs snapping and twisting like twigs, the contorted silhouette through the rain almost frightening in its unnatural shapelessness.
Yoongi’s injured, he’s alone, and while the space between the thunder allows him to hear his packmates brawling in the main clearing, the suffocating darkness of the storm and the disorientation that comes with the pack scattering means he’s by himself against the wolf. Holding his ground through the mud threatening to sink him deeper, Yoongi blinks past the rain stinging in his eyes and growls loudly over the thunder, a second warning none would mistake. Lowering his head, he tenses, ready to pounce.
“Wait!” The wolf shouts over the wind, the shadows of his outstretched hands doing nothing to disguise the sheer strength in his height and his frame. He says hurriedly, “Yoongi-hyung, it’s Namjoon, don’t attack!”
In this storm, an enemy wolf could have plucked the name from Namjoon’s lips and worn it as their own, easily hiding in the shadows behind a disguise until they strike. But Yoongi knows Namjoon, has known him his entire life. They were pups together, best friends through puphood and presentation. It didn’t matter that Yoongi was the Head Alpha’s heir, nor did it matter that Namjoon was a low ranking beta, there was no one Yoongi trusted more.
A hand nudges at his nose, unafraid of his bared teeth, and Yoongi is hit with the smell of old leather and salt. Underneath the dilutant of the rain and the urgent bitterness of fear is Namjoon. Sure enough, if he squints through the wind and rain to part the dark, he can trace the familiar lines of Namjoon’s body out of memory alone. He felt foolish to not recognise him right away. Without the protection of fur, Namjoon shivers, tremors running up his spine.
Shifting into two legs during a pack dispute was an extremely bad decision, considering how useless the teeth were and how vulnerable the skin was in comparison. The frustration at Namjoon’s impulsiveness is also too familiar, wiping away any remaining ferocity. In this storm, they were lucky to find each other at all, and he doesn’t want to think about what could have happened if Namjoon shifted in front of a rival wolf.
Since Namjoon’s vision is weaker on two legs, Yoongi quickly checks all around them, catching shadows moving in the distance as the fight continues without them. The storm above howls its anger for all to hear, echoing the fight underneath it. It’s almost impossible to tell what wolf is pack and which is an enemy. Quickly, Yoongi winds himself around Namjoon’s crouched form, uncaring of Namjoon’s nakedness and the sting in his flank, hiding his vulnerable best friend from the unseen eyes lurking in the dark.
“You’re hurt,” Namjoon exclaims, more legible now that their proximity makes the wind struggle to carry the words away. He pokes at the deep wounds etched into Yoongi’s flank, hastily withdrawing once Yoongi snaps a warning.
Shuffling his weight from paw to paw in the ever-demanding grip of the mud, paranoia settles like fleas under Yoongi’s skin from their idleness. Each wasted moment with Namjoon is potentially a lost chance to save a packmate, to win the fight, and the impatience worsened by his adrenaline makes him antsy.
Since he shifted to his two-legged form to speak, there must be something vitally important Namjoon wanted to tell him. Instead, Namjoon’s uselessly fretting about Yoongi’s injuries while their pack fight for their lives. He’d grown used to Namjoon’s habit to ramble, but with the storm suffocating the air in his chest and the constant threat around them, he loses patience.
Namjoon must notice his unease, pausing his worried ministrations. He presses his face into the wet fur of Yoongi’s neck, briefly reassuring himself of his presence, before withdrawing to say urgently, “We’re winning the fight, but we’ve suffered some heavy casualties.”
A clap of thunder drowns out the whine in Yoongi’s chest, causing both of them to jump as the sky seemingly shakes above them. Lowering his head, Yoongi blinks away the rain clouding his eyes.
“The Head Alpha is fine, and so are our friends,” Namjoon reassures, but his hands tremble as they tighten in Yoongi’s fur, from cold or from fear. Yoongi’s wet fur offers no warmth, and Namjoon continues to shiver against the rain. “This pack, they have a group of omegas tied up in one of the huts. They were scared when they saw me. I don’t think they’re of this pack, I think they were taken.”
Bristling, Yoongi growls his disapproval. His own pack treat all wolves as equals, their skill and heart a better judgement than their presentation. While he knows that his view is rare, the thought of this pack exchanging or stealing omegas as if they were mere objects disgusted him. As an alpha, he’s no better than an omega or a beta.
“I can’t free them by myself, they were terrified. I don’t even know if they’d want to come with us or if they’d attack. I can’t leave them, Yoongi-hyung. Will you help me free them?”
In his wolf form, Yoongi can’t speak, but he doesn’t need words to show his immediate agreement. Instead, he slowly detaches himself from Namjoon, letting the wind freeze every droplet of rain on his skin, sitting patiently on his haunches as a reply.
Namjoon shifts back into his wolf form without another word. He keeps close to Yoongi’s side as they move fluidly through the shadows towards the centre of the territory, lingering out of sight of the rival pack’s eyes. In both forms, Namjoon is clumsy, and despite the pain licking embers along his side, Yoongi has to hold him up when he trips over fallen wolves.
Glancing towards the central clearing, the sight through the rain makes Yoongi hesitate. A small fire in the centre desperately fights against the rain adamant on destroying its light, weakly illuminating the silhouettes of the wolves fighting around it a dark orange. He should help, from his rank and his genuine concern for his pack. Namjoon nudges against his side, urging him to continue before the mud sinks him in place. It’s only when he’s reminded of the trapped omegas, scared and with no way to escape the fight raging around them, do they continue on.
The hut they approach suddenly looms out of the dark, a simple shape the surrounding huts share, unassuming in its exterior. In the dark, it’s almost eerie, completely silent as the storm screams around it. As they slow their pace, Yoongi keeps his head low to the ground to shield his neck, subconsciously flexing his claws to prepare himself for the prospect of another fight. Even if they’re bound like Namjoon said, Yoongi doesn’t underestimate what a trapped and cornered wolf could do. To his side, Namjoon similarly tenses, his dark coat making the shine of his eyes through the shadows the only visible part of him.
The inside of the hut isn’t large, the outline of a long dead fireplace the only defining feature. As soon as Yoongi enters he recoils, the sour, twisted scent of pure omega distress overwhelming him. It’s strong enough to cause a whine to trap in his throat, the layers and layers of unhappy fear almost unbearable to his alpha instincts that urge him to protect his fellow wolves from the cause.
Without the rain blinding their eyes or the thunder grabbing their hearts and sending them sprawling, the darkness quicky parts once their vision adjusts. Only to reveal that they weren’t alone.
With no furs to cover their exposed two-legged forms, the omegas are huddled together for warmth, indistinguishable from each other save for the frightened gleam of their eyes as they shrink against the wall. Around their wrists are tight constraints made of many layers of thorns, but their real imprisonment was by their own fear. Yoongi’s tail whipped angrily as he traces the dark splotches of bruises hidden behind shaking arms, their instinctual understanding that whoever enters will hurt them. Waiting for a punishment, the sight of them is pitiful, far from the strength they should be, and he understands why Namjoon risked himself to try and save them. Leaving them behind is almost impossible.
Shifting back into his two-legged form, Namjoon hushes their fearful cries as he takes a hesitant step forward, a flash of lightning outlining his outstretched hands. Swallowing through the constricting cloud of fearful omega scent, he says soothingly, “It’s okay, we’re not going to hurt you. We’re from a different pack, and we’ll get you free. Don’t be afraid.”
The omegas whisper in a hushed tone amongst themselves for a moment, but when it becomes clear that neither Yoongi or Namjoon have any intention of attacking, they nod their agreement almost desperately. Without delay, they offer their bound wrists, wary enough to be hesitant.
Except for one. One omega that continues to stare at them distrustfully, waiting for the moment the trick breaks. Utterly indifferent to the blood tricking down his wrists at the thorns wrapped around his arms, he doesn’t immediately trust them like the others. In the poor light between thunder claps, Yoongi can see the hard line of the omega’s jaw, the squint of his eyes as he watches Yoongi approach and tries to decide whether or not they’re honest. A wariness fit for a hunter.
There’s something about this omega, something Yoongi himself doesn’t quite know, something that makes his stomach drop and his heart jump each time they meet eyes. He can’t figure out the feeling, but he feels it deep inside him, awakening a part of himself he long thought dead.
“Wait,” The omega suddenly says, and all stop to listen. Yoongi freezes in mid-air, teeth moments away from pulling away the thorns.
This close, through the earthy smell of the mud, he can pick out the omega’s natural scent underneath the lingering dregs of fear and mistrust. It reminds him of oranges, of flowers in spring, of the faint, almost non-existent smell of the sunshine on a meadow. Things Yoongi loves. In the middle of the storm, this omega holds the sunshine.
“It’s not just the thorns,” The omega says seriously, abruptly fearless against these strange wolves. A sense of strength has overtaken his previous fear, and Yoongi’s impressed. There’s no remorse over the fact that Yoongi’s pack is attacking, or that the wolves who captured them are likely to be dead. Carefully adjusting the thick vines of thorns, the omega holds his wrist close to Yoongi’s muzzle. “It’s some kind of metal. It can’t be chewed off.” The vine holding the metal rings together hangs limply in the air.
The cold, unnatural metal underneath the thorns around each of the omega’s wrists is like nothing Yoongi’s ever encountered before. His nose wrinkles at the ice-cold nothingness of it, recoiling at the taste when his teeth fail to hurt it. It’s almost like one of the daisy bracelets pups weave together in summer, but this is made out of something unyielding and unnatural. The sheer wrongness of it makes Yoongi bristle.
Namjoon gently takes the omega’s wrist in his hand, examining the metal and uselessly trying to tug it off.
The rain on the roof screams for attention, the thunder making the omegas jump, and the weight of the storm hasn’t faded in urgency. The pain stinging in Yoongi’s flank is yet to ease, dulled to an ever-present ache that bites deep whenever he moves. Shifting into two legs would only tear it open wider, so he remains still, mute and unable to mimic Namjoon’s hands. He glances towards the open door, but the dark hides the fight from him. The nervous energy at being exposed and motionless for so long makes him restless, tossing his wet fur to check his blind spots, steadily convincing himself of an upcoming threat.
The male omega keeps glancing over to Yoongi, watching him restlessly pace in the shadows of the storm.
“There’s a hole in it,” Namjoon frowns. The omegas are similarly restless, the howling of both the wind and the unseen wolves bringing their fear back to the surface, and they’ve remained idle for too long. “Hyung,” Namjoon turns to him, stopping his pacing, “Can you sniff around and see if you can find anything? I’ll take care of the thorns.”
The thunder growls ominously from above, the rain against the roof losing patience as it tries to reach them.
Despite the rain washing away any trace of a scent, the cold, icy nothingness of the unnatural metal is unmistakable. In the water, the scent of the metal is stronger. Dragging his leg as quickly as he can bear, Yoongi spots a bent and twisted version of the strangle metal resting innocently next to the fireplace. He nips at Namjoon’s ankle, pawing the ground next to the metal.
Grabbing it, Namjoon shoves the smaller, twisted metal piece into the hole of the metal ring. To their surprise, it falls apart to land heavily on the ground, its twisted jaws open and immobile.
A howl, long and pained, echoes over the wind, and Yoongi tenses. The fight will not wait for them much longer. The mystery of the metal is meaningless against the threat lurking in the background.
“Stay near to me,” Namjoon orders to the omegas, their wrists free of the metal biting into them. “If you want, my Head Alpha will offer you safety until you decide what to do. Come with me, quickly.”
In their wolf forms, Namjoon and the omegas scurry from the hut to disappear into the darkness of the storm, where the fight hides.
Yoongi’s just about to follow when his instincts urge him to stay. When he turns, he notices that the male omega is still in the hut on two-legs. He’s staring out into the outside with an indistinguishable gleam in his eye, the rain happily bringing its cold to his skin.
The adrenaline in Yoongi’s veins insistently tugged at his muscles, and he wasted no time in trying to bodily shove the omega out of the hut. This was no place to stay, not after how they were treated. Fight or not, Yoongi’s not going to leave him behind.
“You saved me.” It’s barely audible over the wind greedily talking over him, but somehow, Yoongi hears him.
Pausing, his hindlimb aching at the stillness, Yoongi waits. The blood matting his fur had slowed to an ache, but the weight keeping him from returning to his pack was from more than the rain drowning his fur. He didn’t know why, but he needed to see this omega safe. He needed, more than anything, to keep this omega by his side, and he didn’t know why.
“You’re something different, I think. I hope.” The omega says casually, looking over their shoulder in Yoongi’s direction. He’s at ease while every muscle in Yoongi’s body urges him to run. The omega smiles, and through the dark, Yoongi’s heart stutters in his chest. “I’m Hoseok. Thank you for slaughtering this pack, pretty alpha.”
A flash of lightening disorientates them for a moment, but when the thunder growls its anger, the omega is already on four legs, the wind whipping his fur as he runs outside the hut. Snarling, he attacks a wolf that emerges out of the shadows, easily pinning them by their throat.
In Yoongi’s mind, the name Hoseok is honey sweet, as light as the sunshine.
The fight comes to him, in the shape of a powerful beta much larger than him. Yoongi can barely feel his injury as he digs his canines into the beta’s side and feels claws rake down his chest. He’s thinking of Hoseok, of how something inside him had changed, and he knows that he’s already lost. His heart had already been defeated. Yoongi knows, right there, that Hoseok is more important than he previously thought, and that this won’t be the last time he sees him.
Back in the main clearing, with the freed omegas turning against their captors, the rival pack struggle to keep up the fight as Yoongi’s pack overwhelm them. More and more whimper into the shadows with their tails between their legs, outnumbered and outwitted.
In the middle of the rain and the storm, Hoseok moves as fluid as a river, the white fur around his mouth stained an inky black as the blood swallows the night. Weaving between the flickering shadows of the weak fire as if they’re his kin, he’s both delicate and deadly, and Yoongi’s entranced.
In that moment, standing triumphantly against his rivals without a hint of fear, Hoseok was the storm. Caught in the eye, Yoongi’s unwilling to get out. As his heart stirs, instincts crooning of the omega’s scent and power, Yoongi watches, and no storm could ever hope to wash away the first spark of something new.
______________
Despite the storm desperately trying to hold them back, Yoongi’s pack won. The remaining members of the rival pack begrudgingly submitted to their power, agreeing to keep within their own territory and stop stealing out of greed.
Yoongi’s sire, the Head Alpha, was both generous and logical when it came to the freed omegas. Some returned to the packs they were taken from, but only a few remained, carving their place in the pack under the Head Alpha’s watchful eye. To Yoongi’s delight, Hoseok was one of the few that stayed, swearing loyalty as soon as he could.
Meeting Hoseok had lit a spark deep in Yoongi’s heart that was impossible to put out, one that only grew with time. The feeling was similar to how the stars must feel, glittering like the sun to make the moon less lonely. Hoseok made Yoongi feel things, things he never had before. Things like warmth and affection and a yearning, an almost unbearable yearning deep in his bones for something similar to love.
He’d never considered mating before, especially love. None of his potential mates from pack meetings appealed to him, none felt right. As heir to the Head Alpha, he needed a strong bond to help carry the burden of leadership. Besides the worry of being unlovable, of being too much or too little or not good enough, it was difficult for him to open up. Mating was always something out of reach, something he could only dream of and never experience.
Being with Hoseok felt right in a way no other wolf did. It didn’t matter if they were hunting, laughing next to the fire or sewing clothes, content with the silence of each other. Every moment was precious, and Yoongi found himself seeking Hoseok out just to bask in the sunshine of his presence, to feel seen.
It was as natural as falling asleep, falling for Hoseok. Yoongi would do anything to see him smile, or just see him happy, and it felt right in a way that only made him feel stronger.
After he’d been sworn into the pack, Yoongi had quickly introduced Hoseok to Namjoon, Seokjin, and Taehyung. After seeing how easy Yoongi opened up to him, they’d included Hoseok in their group of friends immediately.
Namjoon took to teasing Yoongi’s obvious attraction behind Hoseok’s back, but he never interrupted whenever Yoongi gushed to him about Hoseok’s smile, his hunting skills that became the envy of the rest of the pack, his laughter that was sweeter than any bird song, and how open he was in caring for his friends. It was rare for Yoongi to let himself feel, out of fear of getting hurt, so Namjoon merely listened with a knowing smile.
Despite Yoongi’s calculated strategies, silent hunting skills, and ability to blend into the dark, he couldn’t be more obvious.
Falling over his own paws like a newly shifted pup, Yoongi would eagerly press himself close to Hoseok’s side whenever they were both in wolf form, savouring the heat by his side and the proximity. He fetched Hoseok his meals for him, groomed that spot behind his ears that was impossible to reach. Yoongi doubted he’d ever impress Hoseok, not when he considered himself to be lacking in every aspect, so he settled for making him happy.
The moon caught in Yoongi’s eyes was searching for his stars.
“How are you going to court your omega this season?”
Lost in his thoughts, Yoongi startles back into his body from where he’d been floating on a cloud of his never-ending affection for Hoseok. Coming back to himself, his cheeks flush at being caught unaware, clearing his throat. Daydreaming, he’d hardly been the diligent and dedicated wolf he should be.
At his surprise, his sire looks faintly amused. Raising a brow, she holds back a smile.
“What did you say, sire?” Yoongi asks politely, reaching for the basket full of vegetables he was supposed to be chopping.
The pack kitchen was little more than a large hut with an open fire, surrounded by hollow stones used as pots and pans and hanging meat. The air was thick with the layered scents of the prey and of the fire, enough to chase away the chill of the outside. Other wolves scurried in and out, dragging in deer from the morning hunt or stirring the soup Yoongi was chopping the vegetables for, adding a few herbs if they wished. Prey was eaten or added whenever they wanted, but the pack preferred to eat together, meaning the soup was yet to be finished.
“I wasn’t listening, I was thinking about- “
“-Hoseok, yes I could tell.” His sire finishes for him, a fond smile tugging at her lips. A quick glance around shows that Hoseok is nowhere to be seen, so Yoongi allows himself to relax. His sire pops a chunk of carrot into his mouth as she chuckles, “You always have a vacant, love-sick look on your face whenever you think about it. Sort of like a startled rabbit.”
“Vacant?” Yoongi echoes, frowning.
Shaking her head, his sire laughs. After a moment at his expense, she calms. Glancing up from the vegetables to look him in the eye, stilling her movements, she asks, “Speaking of Hoseok, how are you going to court him? Mating season isn’t too far away, and it’s never too early.”
Yoongi blinks. His sire is serious.
His sire and dam never pressured him about finding a mate, ominously dismissing each failed suitor as just another step closer to his true mate. For it to be mentioned now is a shock. His affection for Hoseok was clear to see, but he hadn’t considered the upcoming mating season at all, and hadn’t thought Hoseok might return his feelings.
It was easier to dream, to imagine Hoseok by his side. Truthfully, Yoongi savoured those moments together because he didn’t think he’d ever get to live his dream in the waking world. It didn’t occur to him that it could ever be reality, not when he doubted his worth.
The prospect of mutual affection is enough to make Yoongi’s heart skip a beat.
“Mating season?” Yoongi repeats after a moment. While his sire nonchalantly continues chopping a carrot, his hands are suspended in mid-air, stuck in his disbelief. “I, well- “
“Yoongi-ah,” His sire says fondly, “You’re head over tail for him. Even a blind wolf would see. It’s nothing to be afraid of, this is a good thing. I’m glad to see you so happy.”
“Aren’t you-” Yoongi pauses, gathering his courage to continue. His sire waits for him to gather his thoughts, her comforting presence enough to snap him out of his hesitation. “Aren’t you upset I don’t want a higher rank?”
It was always in the back of Yoongi’s mind that his status in the pack had to be considered before his mating. While his pack prioritised equality, higher status wolves existed purely as a medium between other packs, and it was hardly the envy of other wolves. Their pack was more relaxed than most over hierarchy, fairness and togetherness placed above dominance and orders, but he couldn’t ignore his heritage to inherit the title of Head Alpha.
Arranged matings between high-ranking wolves of different packs wasn’t uncommon. While Yoongi’s parents never forced him to choose from high-ranking wolves, only bothering to offer potential mates to please the other pack, it lingered in his subconscious. His status didn’t mean anything, until it potentially could split he and Hoseok apart.
His sire’s knife fell with a clatter out of her hand, tearing her attention away from the carrots.
“Of course not,” She stresses, “I may be Head Alpha, but you’re still my pup. I want you to be happy more than anything. Male, female, alpha, beta, I don’t care as long as they treat you right. I’d never ask you to mate for status.”
“Oh,” Yoongi mumbles. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting as a reply, but his sire’s support isn’t unwelcome. “That’s good to know.”
Pinching his arm lightly, his sire resumes her work with the vegetables, chopping away the lingering tension in Yoongi’s shoulders. Rolling her eyes dramatically, she nudges him and teases, “So dramatic. Were you hoping for some star-crossed forbidden mating, where you’d defy me to be with your love?”
“Sire!” Yoongi whines. An omega tasting the bubbling pot of soup gives him a knowing look, one that makes his cheeks flush. Laughing, his sire passes him an onion, and the worry drifts away on the smoke.
“Yes, I’m sorry Yoongi-ah. Now that we’ve settled that, how are you planning on courting Hoseok? I want details, pup.”
Talking about it in such an open place makes the back of Yoongi’s neck burn, but the only wolf oblivious to his attraction seems to be Hoseok himself. The ears of the pack, which are always listening, don’t concern him as much.
“I haven’t thought about it. I don’t-I don’t think he’ll accept.”
Sighing, his sire slowly shakes her head until her hair falls before her eyes, pointing at him with the knife, “Listen to me Min Yoongi. I didn’t raise you to be this insecure, yet here you are, dithering over the obvious. Hoseok is as over the moon with you as you are with him. He won’t reject you, honey. I’m surprised he hasn’t started courting you yet.”
“But-“ Yoongi tries to protest. Insecurity is a well-known friend, sinking its claws deeper than most, its grip hard to break free from. Justifying why he will be rejected is easier when it’s only himself to convince.
“He won’t,” His sire says firmly, before softening. Gently, she uses a finger to raise his chin, meeting his eyes so he can’t break their gaze. “Hoseok won’t reject you. Court him and you’ll see.”
A beat or two passes before she lets go, having searched Yoongi’s face for any doubt, squeezing his shoulder in comfort.
“I don’t know,” Yoongi says eventually. The soup splashes when he stirs, barely missing his sire adding more wood to the fire below it. Bubbling with vegetables and meat, it should be comforting, but instead Yoongi’s stomach turns at the sight, too sick with doubt. “Even if I do court him, I don’t know how to. How did you do it?”
His sire snorts, muffled from where she’s crouched. “Your dam loved stories, so I carved pictures into bark of his favourites. He still has them somewhere.” Her eyes cloud over with memories, hiding her smile behind the smoke, “Your dam is soft, he wasn’t hard to impress.”
“I don’t know what to give Hoseok. What could I give him? He’s already perfect.”
“Give him something from the heart,” His sire encourages, wincing when her knees pop as she stands, “It has to be personal. He’ll love it because you gave it to him.”
“Ok,” Yoongi agrees, and like the sun peeking through the clouds, hope cuts in through the doubt. Now that the seed had been planted, it’d grown into a flower, unable to be dug up. Searching his memories, he doesn’t notice his sire rolling her eyes. He’s lost in his thoughts, the fire inside him burning brighter than before, “I’ll try.”
Courtship had seemed like a far-out dream, something he could only watch but never experience. The shapeless form of his future mate had been blurry and fleeting, never realistic enough to linger on.
Regardless of how head over tail he was, Yoongi didn’t consider himself as a candidate, preferring to remain in his daydreams where there was no risk of getting his heart broken. He was calm, solemn, deeply attached to those he cared about, while Hoseok was outgoing and energetic, a friend to all wolves. The opposite sun to his moon. The excuse of their ranks hid the fact that Yoongi felt inadequate, not worthy to try and win Hoseok’s affection, out of his own internal disease that settled like a plague over his wistful yearnings. It had always been the same, the doubt of his abilities following him since he was a pup, but it only worsened when he finally opened up to the idea of courtship.
But Yoongi’s sire suggesting the idea of courtship threatened his hopelessness. No longer were his dreams of mating intimidating and emotionless, the wolf on the horizon was one he recognised, one he wanted to chase. He wanted Hoseok by his side as they hunted, a hut made warm by the two of them, smiles in the summer and stories in the winter. Pups, a mating bond, love, Yoongi wanted it all, and it scared him how much he wanted. No other wolf has ever made him feel like this, and he doubted any other would.
If he wanted to sink his teeth into that dream and never let it go, he had to prove he was an alpha capable of it. He had to prove he was worthy, and his insecurity couldn’t stop him this time. His instincts told him not to delay, the prospect of other wolves competing for Hoseok enough to make his hackles rise.
The first gift in a courtship ritual is one of the most important, only overshadowed by the significance of the final gift before the chase that determines the outcome. Yoongi’s dilemma lied in the fact that he was a mediocre sewer, a poor craftsman, and a relatively slow painter. He needed to give Hoseok a gift worthy to give to the moon, but without the skills to make one, he had to aim lower.
It had to be from the heart. Something that reflected his sincerity, the promise for a happier future.
“Make him some clothes out of the deerskin you just dried.” Namjoon suggested after Yoongi pestered him for ideas. The water of the river eagerly reaches up his legs as he checks the traps for any fish, the sun catching in the current. “Didn’t he just tear a shirt? I told him to take it off before he shifted but apparently that ‘wouldn’t be stealthy’.”
“No,” Yoongi frowns. His hands are slippery from the water, almost dropping the basket full of glittering fish until he arranges it tight against his side. The fish stare at him unblinkingly, uncaring of his problems. “That’s too easy. Is that why he stole one of my shirts? I don’t mind, but I was wondering.”
Namjoon exhales loudly, lazily tossing his hair out of his eyes. The gurgling of the river gleefully sings over the rocks, trying to reach them. Against the strength of the river, he’s equally as strong and imposing, relaxed as he hops along the wet stones, the familiarity removing any chance of slipping. He’s one with the water, skin glittering like scales from where the water has grabbed him, the current eager to reach him but splashing too late to ensnare him in its grip.
“I don’t know what to tell you.” Namjoon’s hand suddenly darts underwater between blinks, withdrawing a fat fish from one of the traps. Struggling against Namjoon’s grip, its tail flaps pitifully in the air, wide eyes boring emptily into Yoongi’s as he takes it into his basket. Straightening, Namjoon points out, “You’re the one who won’t shut up about him. Shouldn’t you already know what to get him?”
“I don’t know Joon,” Yoongi snarks back without a beat, rushing to catch up as Namjoon continues down the river. He keeps the frustration from swimming to the surface, shifting it into a playfulness that’s all too familiar, “Shouldn’t you know since you and Seokjin are basically mated already?”
Namjoon chokes on his own breath, whipping his head away from the fish to Yoongi’s direction. Cheeks flushing a light pink, it’s difficult to distinguish underneath the overpowering smell of the river, but Namjoon’s scent floods with embarrassment.
“No-that’s not-“ Namjoon splutters, while Yoongi smirks knowingly. He throws his hands up in defeat, “Not that you need to know, but I’m-I’m not courting Seokjin. See if I help you now, hyung. You and Hoseok are impossible. Figure it out yourself, I give up.”
Grumbling, Namjoon leaves Yoongi behind with all the fish to drag back, but he also leaves him with an idea.
The first courtship gift demanded nights of hard work under the curious stars and hours spent gathering or begging other wolves for supplies, but it was worth it.
Ever since they met, Hoseok didn’t speak much about the pack he was taken from. Instead, small, subconscious reminders existed in the stories he told and some of the customs he lived by. One night the two of them wandered, lost in body but not in mind, until they came across a clearing where the moon shyly peeked through the gaps of the trees, where the slumbering flowers kissed moisture into their fur as they passed.
Settling, Hoseok shifted into his two-legged form, looking up at the night sky with a melancholy so unsuited to his usual brightness, scent as weighted and heavy as the water droplets curling the leaves. The story he’d told was not one Yoongi had heard before.
While Yoongi’s pack saw the stars and the moon as companions against the night, illuminating the other so they wouldn’t be lonely in the cold and the dark, Hoseok looked up at the stars and saw sadness rather than hope. In his pack, the moon was a fickle trickster, who’d conned a pack out of their souls and their lives, condemning them to become the stars to watch over what they could never be. Ghosts, he’d called them. Helpless to grant a wish a pup gave them, trapped in the dark with no escape as punishment for nothing. Telling the story, Hoseok had started to cry.
Yoongi had seen the stars reflected in Hoseok’s teary eyes, noticed the slump in his shoulders as he admitted his family was dead, whined at the tears snaking down his cheeks as he confessed that sometimes he felt as trapped and helpless in his sadness as those stars. That he was afraid of being alone and unloved, of being weak but being stuck. That night, Hoseok had let Yoongi see what he had hidden in the dark of his mind, but it didn’t scare him away.
It didn’t matter that Hoseok was a low-ranking omega, he was the strongest wolf Yoongi knew. The pain at hearing Hoseok’s inner sadness and doubt was worse than any bite he’d ever received. So the first courting gift was to show that Hoseok wasn’t alone, he was seen and loved, that Yoongi refused to let Hoseok fall into the dark.
It was a simple necklace, thin strips of softened hide forming the loop, with blocks of carved wood woven in. Yoongi had carefully carved the stars into each block, the wolf that rested in the centre of the necklace holding the moon between its teeth. A symbol of power, but of devotion. The carved wolf had Hoseok’s looks, and Yoongi’s love.
Standing behind a hut like a cowering pup, Yoongi held the necklace close to his chest, cautiously peering at the two figures weaving baskets in the main clearing.
He wasn’t a coward. He’d fought and won many times, but even he wasn’t resistant to nervousness. Hoseok expressed with his whole body, smiling with his eyes as he gestured wildly, the basket almost falling from his lap as he laughs as sweet as birdsong at whatever Seokjin had said.
If Hoseok rejected him, Yoongi’s heart would break into pieces, scattered on the wind never to return. His dream would he torn to shreds beyond recognition. Looking down at the necklace, his heart nervously stuck in his throat, he knew he had to try. It was only Hoseok, ever since they met, that made him want to try.
Puffing out his chest, Yoongi smooths over the texture of the necklace before forcing himself to emerge from behind the hut. Determination quickens his pace, while his insecurity at looking a fool gnaws pettily in the marrow of his bones.
Hoseok’s gaze lands on him, and the attention makes Yoongi preen, stomach tying itself into knots as he willed his hands not to shake. He didn’t usually do this, preferring to show his affection in small, subtle ways, but it had to be done. There was no retreat.
“Yoongi-ah,” Seokjin says dryly, raising a brow. His hands weave with a practised ease, continuing without him. “We were wondering how long you were going to keep staring at us from behind that hut.”
Yoongi ignores him.
There’s only one wolf in his world, one wolf with the most beautifully shocked expression as he registers what Yoongi’s holding.
“Hoseok-ah,” Yoongi says, sounding too loving even to his own ears. His sire had told him what to say, the traditional offer of courtship, but his mind is empty. Wiped clean save for the roaring bonfire behind his eyes to give this omega everything he deserves, “I wish to court you, to prove to you that my heart is genuine and my will strong, to be an alpha you deem worthy. The chase is only a few moons away.”
Inhaling a shaky breath, Yoongi offers the necklace, “Will you accept my offer of courtship?”
For a moment, the world stilled, narrowing down into just the two of them, suspended in the beats between. Hoseok’s lips part as his eyes widen, basket slowly sliding from his grip. The necklace in Yoongi’s outstretched hand is testing the waters, a stone thrown into the water yet to ripple.
Hoseok rises to his feet, basket forgotten. He doesn’t take the necklace right away. Instead, he covers Yoongi’s hand with his own, wrapping them together. Their hands fit perfectly, two halves of a whole. When he smiles, pleased and flattered and excited all at once, Yoongi’s bathed in the sunshine-warmth. The dark, shadowy seeds of fear and nervousness burn in its intensity.
“Pretty alpha,” Hoseok croons, smiling widening when Yoongi startles at the endearment. The hope unfurls like a flower across his face, fingertips sending sparks along Yoongi’s skin when he brushes the hair out of Yoongi’s eyes fondly. He looks like everything Yoongi has ever wanted.
Gently taking the necklace out of Yoongi’s hand, Hoseok loops it around his neck, where it settles on his chest like it belonged there. Taking Yoongi’s hands once more, he says, “What took you so long?”
When the acceptance settles, Yoongi breathes again, his heart bursting out of its cage. He can hear Hoseok laughing at his shock, but on the inside he’s uncontrollably happy, feeling as if he could burst into flames and not care a bit. It’s within reach, the real chance of calling this beautiful omega his is within his sights. He doesn’t know why he was nervous at all, when Hoseok is equally as pleased, and his instincts celebrate.
Unnoticed by the two of them, Seokjin wipes away the moisture at the corner of his eye, gazing warmly as Yoongi and Hoseok lost the world to each other. He mutters his approval under his breath, the witness to Yoongi’s offer.
With the first courting gift accepted and the path to winning Hoseok’s affection finally within reach, Yoongi floats higher than the summer breeze. The tender, vulnerable core of him finally emerging out of the shadows of his self-doubt.
Hoseok doesn’t stop smiling, and neither does Yoongi.