Archive of Our Own

The vacation hasn't even officially started yet, and Hongjoong is exhausted.

He loves their annual holiday getaway, but a morning spent wrangling the rest of the pack; then a three-hour drive; then navigating winding, possibly icy mountain roads while the rest of the pack chatters and laughs and belts along to their road trip playlist—it's taken a lot out of him.

He's a shut-in, used to going from home to the studio offices and back, and not much else. He's already dreaming of his cabin bedroom, with its California King and ridiculously high thread count sheets.

The cabin belongs to Yeosang's family. It's one of those rich-people cabins, the kind you see in L.L. Bean catalogs—three stories of glossy cedar, picture windows providing a view of the evergreen valley stretched below, state-of-the-art kitchen, five bedrooms, two different sitting rooms with 85-inch TVs, chandeliers made of deer antlers.

The annual trip began when they were all in college together. Their first winter break, they wanted to spend time together before they all went home for the holidays, and Yeosang volunteered his family's cabin.

They all vaguely knew that Yeosang's family was well off, but they didn't realize just how loaded they were until they saw the cabin for the first time.

Yeosang was a little embarrassed about it, but he was more than happy to let them all use the cabin again the next year, and the year after that, until it became a tradition.

For the past seven years, as they've all grown up and grown closer, they've returned to the cabin every winter. No work, no holiday stress, nothing but being together as a pack for three days.

Everyone was lulled into sleepy silence by the long drive up the mountain, but as they get close to the turn off their energy starts to ramp up again, excited voices overlapping as they chatter about which activities they're most excited for, the amount of hot chocolate they're going to drink, all the good food they're going to eat, and the prospect of a whole three days together with no outside interruptions.

Hongjoong nods along and answers when someone addresses him, but mostly stays silent and lets the sounds of excitement wash over him, feeling the pack bond crackle with it, a small smile on his face.

Beside him in the passenger seat, Seonghwa is uncharacteristically quiet. Hongjoong chances a quick glance away from the tightly winding road to him. He wasn't doing great earlier that morning, but waved it off as tiredness—even for him, usually a morning person, the 5 a.m. start was a lot.

Now, Hongjoong isn't so sure that's all there is to it. Seonghwa usually perks up as the morning goes on. He loves this trip, maybe the most out of all of them.

A quick glance can't tell Hongjoong much, and he doesn't dare look away from the road for too long. Seonghwa definitely looks tired, his head resting heavily against the car window, dark shadows under his eyes.

Unfortunately, Hongjoong can't use the pack bond to sense anything. Seonghwa is unpresented. He's still a part of the pack; they still feel tightly bonded to him, but they can't sense what he's thinking and feeling like they can with each other, and Seonghwa can't sense them.

They've adapted over the years. Seonghwa knows them all well, is attuned to their moods even without the bond, and has always made it clear that they can all talk to him about anything or come to him anytime they need comfort.

Despite not being presented, he's seen as the pack leader alongside Hongjoong and takes care of all of them well. Sometimes at the expense of himself.

Hongjoong isn't as adept at reading people as Seonghwa is, but he knows him well and knows his tendency to diminish his own discomfort for the sake of the rest of them.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks gently, taking one more quick glance over. He keeps his voice low, beneath the noise of the rest of the pack, not wanting to worry them.

Seonghwa turns his way, and Hongjoong gets a better look at his face. It's paler than normal and slightly waxen, except for his cheeks, which are two bright spots of color, and there's a light sheen of sweat on his forehead.

Immediately, Hongjoong turns down the heating.

"I'm fine," Seonghwa says. "Maybe just a little car sick. These roads."

Hongjoong frowns slightly, easing up off the accelerator to slow down even more, taking the next curve as gently as he can.

"That's never happened before," he says. Usually, Seonghwa is on his phone, excitedly going through the extremely detailed checklist he made for all the activities they need to get to during the trip (they're the exact same every year, all traditions that have to be observed, but Seonghwa is still meticulous).

"Maybe it's part of getting old," Seonghwa says lightly. Hongjoong knows him well enough to know he's trying to reassure him by showing he's feeling okay enough to joke.

He laughs through his nose. "You're only 27, Hwa."

"28 soon," Seonghwa says, pulling another soft laugh from Hongjoong.

"Still not old," he says.

Hongjoong sees Seonghwa shrug in his periphery. Seonghwa has always been like this—extra conscious of his age, making note of it often, thinking of his birthday even when it's still months away. It's because he's unpresented, Hongjoong knows. 27 is late to present. Not that there's anything wrong with it, of course, and they all love Seonghwa as he is, don't think of him as anything less than a vital part of their pack, but it nags at Seonghwa.

"We're almost there. Rest your eyes a bit, you'll feel better once you get out of the car and into that mountain air," Hongjoong says, reassuring both Seonghwa and himself.

"You're probably right," Seonghwa says. "Thanks." He settles back down, leaning his head back and shutting his eyes.

He and Hongjoong spend the rest of the drive in contemplative silence. Their disquiet lingers for a bit but then dissipates, replaced by the comfort of each other's steady presence and the sounds of their happy pack surrounding them.

In a lot of ways, their partnership seems like one of a mated pair. Many people outside their pack assume they are mated. But while they are the pack's leaders—and the others often playfully refer to them as a married couple—they're not mated, or even together. It's hard to define exactly what there is between them, and neither of them has tried. Hongjoong doesn't want to ruin it by putting a label on it (and, okay, maybe he's a bit scared to). Plus, when Seonghwa does present, Hongjoong doesn't want him to feel tied down by choices he made while he was unpresented.

("What if he presented and he didn't want me anymore? What if his wolf rejected mine, but he was stuck with me?" he asked Wooyoung once, one of those late nights where they talked for hours and Wooyoung found his way past all the walls Hongjoong keeps up around the subject of him and Seonghwa.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes spectacularly, stretching out the moment so Hongjoong was sure to see just how ridiculous he found him.

"Seonghwa would never feel stuck with you.")

Hongjoong isn't lacking for love or affection or anything like that. He has his pack, and they have him, but sometimes he sees Yunho and Mingi, who chose to officially mark each other as mates a few years ago, and he does wonder what if… Those thoughts creep in most when he's feeling soft and vulnerable. Like now—tired, stressed, excited, all sentimental for his pack and their traditions. He's always quick to shut them down, though. He's the pack alpha; he can't be selfish like that.

Finally, the now-familiar marker for the turn off appears like a beacon up ahead. A small, simple wooden sign, just big enough to be legible from the road, that reads "Utopia Lodge" and has an arrow pointing to the winding gravel drive that disappears up among the evergreens.

As they make their way up the bumpy gravel road, pitted from another year of freezing and thawing, he looks at Seonghwa in concern. His eyes are still closed, his brows slightly pinched, mouth downturned.

But when they arrive, his face transforms. Hongjoong sees him shake off whatever's ailing him and put on an enthusiastic expression. He hops out of the front seat while the rest of the pack piles out of the back, nearly on top of each other in their impatience to get out and stretch their legs and get into the cabin.

Seonghwa has popped the trunk and is trying to direct them all to collect their luggage and head inside.

"Okay, let's settle down," he calls, sounding like a cheery camp counselor.

Things predictably devolve into chaos, despite Seonghwa's efforts. All the pent-up energy is finally released, and the pack is frolicking in the snow, tussling, yipping and laughing. Jongho slings Wooyoung over his shoulders and drops him onto a fluffy snow bank, Wooyoung cackling with delight. He retaliates by tugging Jongho down onto the bank with him and hitting him in the face with a fistful of snow. Jongho sits up, spluttering and shaking snow off, and, before he can get his revenge, Wooyoung pecks his reddened nose and then pops up and runs off. He shields himself behind Mingi just before Jongho lets the first snowball fly.

It quickly develops into all-out war, with sides forming, the wide front drive transformed into a battlefield. People duck behind decorative topiaries and stockpile snowballs for attacks.

Hongjoong does his best to back Seonghwa up, though they both know it's ultimately pointless, and really, they're happy to see everyone having so much fun. Hongjoong stands back, fond smile on his face, heart swelling as he takes in their happy cries, their laughter, huge smiles, cold-flushed cheeks and reddened fingers.

"Yunho, you're not wearing gloves, you're going to get frostbite!" Seonghwa gently scolds, while Yunho crafts yet another snowball for their arsenal.

"Join us, Hwa!" Yunho calls back, undeterred, a goofy smile spread wide across his face.

"No, join us!" Wooyoung cries from the other side of the driveway.

This prompts another round of snowballs and lots of shrieking and laughing.

"I'm neutral," Seonghwa says, holding up his hands.

A chorus of protests erupts.

"Come on, you can't just watch, that's no fun," Wooyoung says. He moves closer to Seonghwa as he speaks, slow, like a cat on the prowl, a snowball cupped in his hand and a dangerous twinkle in his eye.

Seonghwa backs up a few steps, half ducked behind the car to shield himself while still keeping an eye on Wooyoung. "Oh no," he says, pointing a warning finger, "don't you dare." He's smiling as he says it, though, a familiar playfulness lighting up his eyes.

Wooyoung lunges forward, and Seonghwa screams and bolts, the alpha in hot pursuit. They're both laughing, breathless, dodging and weaving their way around the driveway while the rest look on and cheer.

Seonghwa manages to scoop up a snowball and turns to face Wooyoung. They stand off against each other, snowballs held aloft, each waiting to see what the other will do.

Wooyoung makes a run for it.

"Hey! You started it!" Seonghwa cries, taking off in pursuit.

Wooyoung barrels toward Hongjoong.

"Oh no, I'm not part of this," he says, trying to side-step.

Wooyoung ignores his protest and ducks behind him just in time for Seonghwa to let his snowball fly. It hits Hongjoong directly in the chest. The snowball explodes, spraying icy bits all over Hongjoong's face.

Hongjoong blinks snow from his eyes in stunned silence. Behind him, Wooyoung cackles with sadistic glee, so overcome with laughter he's slumped against Hongjoong's back. Seonghwa looks at Hongjoong, wide-eyed and apologetic but also clearly trying to hold in his own laughter.

"I'm sorry!" he says, his voice shaking with the barely contained giggles.

Hongjoong is glad to see Seonghwa acting more like his usual self, joining in the younger's antics, but there's no way he can let that slide.

He bends down and gathers snow into his hands, shaping it into a ball.

"It was an accident!" Seonghwa cries, his laughter bubbling free.

Hongjoong continues packing the snowball and narrows his eyes at Seonghwa.

When he raises his hand, Seonghwa takes off again.

"No!" he shouts, looking over his shoulder and letting out a cry when he sees Hongjoong chasing after him.

The rest of the pack has abandoned their fight in favor of watching the spectacle, and Seonghwa darts between them in an attempt to escape Hongjoong.

"I'm not letting you get away that easy," Hongjoong calls after Seonghwa as he ducks behind Mingi, the snowball Hongjoong let fly whistling just past his arm.

Hongjoong quickly makes another while Seonghwa catches his breath. They watch each other, heavy breaths fogging in the air, cheeks flushed, eyes bright.

They carry on like that for a while, each of Hongjoong's snowballs narrowly missing Seonghwa. The others are beginning to tease him for his aim and his weak arm now. It's true Hongjoong has never been the most sporty of them. He'll have to try a different tactic.

He focuses on chasing Seonghwa into a corner instead. Too late, Seonghwa realizes what's happening. He's trapped between Hongjoong and a snow bank separating the drive from the trees. He tries to duck around Hongjoong and make his escape, but Hongjoong catches him around the waist and, sacrificing himself, falls into the snow bank, pulling Seonghwa down with him.

Seonghwa squeals and squirms, but Hongjoong's arm holds him firmly down.

With a wordless cry of triumph, he smashes his snowball against Seonghwa's chest, exactly where Seonghwa had hit him, so snow puffs in Seonghwa's face and cold flakes fall into his sweater. Seonghwa's squeals grow to cries for mercy and breathless laughter.

Finally satisfied he's gotten his revenge, Hongjoong goes limp in the fluffy snow, heaving for breath. He probably did much more damage to himself, falling into the pile of snow, than Seonghwa did with his one snowball, but that's beside the point.

As he lies there catching his breath, he slowly realizes the position they're in. They're lying close, and he's half on top of Seonghwa, his arm still wound tightly around his waist. They're so close Hongjoong can feel Seonghwa's warm breath against his cheek. He turns his head slightly and immediately regrets it, because Seonghwa is right there, also looking at him, a million thoughts Hongjoong can't read dancing in his eyes. His cheeks are red from the cold, pink lips slightly parted with his labored breathing.

Hongjoong also becomes aware of how quiet it is, the rowdy pack now near silent. He glances over to see them all watching, various smiles on their faces. Some knowing, some smug, some fond. He hopes his cheeks are still red enough from the chase to disguise his blush.

Wooyoung coughs pointedly. "We can take the bags in if you two need a minute," he says, which is entirely unfair, because just a moment ago he and the rest of them had been the ones ignoring their attempts to establish some order.

The blush makes its way up to Hongjoong's ears, suddenly too warm beneath his knit ALO hat.

"It's okay, Woo," Seonghwa says. He squirms away, and this time Hongjoong lets him go, trying his best to ignore the dull pang of disappointment in his chest.

Seonghwa scrambles up and offers his hand to Hongjoong, who takes it with a small smile. He allows Seonghwa to tug him up, but they end up nearly chest to chest, and Hongjoong almost falls right back down when he takes a quick step away. If Seonghwa notices the jumpy behavior, he doesn't say anything. He just smiles softly, perhaps a bit apologetically.

"I think we're even now," he says, brushing some of the snow from Hongjoong's clothes.

Hongjoong laughs weakly and nods. "Definitely," he says, holding up his hands in surrender. "Want help with the bags?"

Seonghwa's gentle smile has the paradoxical effect of calming Hongjoong while also making his heart race.

❄️

Once all the bags and pack members are safely inside, the next order of business is constructing the nest.

They always build it in the main living room, where there's enough floor space to make one big enough for all eight of them. Even with its soaring ceilings and picture windows, the room has a cozy feel thanks to the cavernous stone fireplace and rustic decor. There's a supremely comfortable, cloud-like sectional couch too, but they push that back against the far wall, along with the cedar coffee table, to free up more floor space in front of the fire for their nest.

After so many years, they have the construction down to a science, and in no time layers of blankets and cushions cover the hardwood.

As pack alpha, Hongjoong's main job is supervision. He'll add his scent to something when they feel it's not present enough, or give his input on the placement of an item when asked, but mostly he sits back and watches, sending out comfort and love to his pack through the bond and subtle waves of his scent.

He's surprised when Seonghwa breaks away from the rest to join him on the couch. Usually Seonghwa is one of the last working on the nest. Years of building instincts by learning his pack's preferences, plus a perfectionist streak, mean he always wants to work hard to get the nest exactly right.

"How are you feeling?" Hongjoong asks. He presses the back of his hand against Seonghwa's forehead. His skin is warm, but not fever hot. Hongjoong sits back with a frown. Something's definitely wrong, but he can't figure out what, and it's making his alpha anxious.

From near Hongjoong's feet, Mingi whines and looks up at them with a question in his eyes, his caramel apple scent going slightly bitter.

"It's fine, Min," Seonghwa says quickly. He cards his fingers through the omega's long, light brown hair while Hongjoong releases a soothing wave of his scent, and Mingi soon relaxes.

Yunho, alert to the fluctuation in his mate's mood, looks up from where he's helping his fellow beta Jongho get logs stacked in the fireplace. When he sees Hongjoong and Seonghwa have it under control, he smiles gratefully and goes back to the task. He also sends out his own scent, a dose of sun-warm laundry and lemon.

Reassured, Mingi resumes his work on the nest, and Hongjoong turns his attention back to Seonghwa.

"Are you sure?" He keeps his voice low and his scent subdued, not wanting anyone else to catch the bitter note of worry. "You can go rest if you need to. I'll distract the rest of them so you can slip away without them noticing."

Seonghwa laughs softly, his eyes crinkling, and shakes his head. "I'm fine, really."

It's times like these that Hongjoong especially hates not being able to feel Seonghwa through the bond. He has no way of knowing if Seonghwa really is fine, or if he's hiding the true extent of it for the sake of the pack.

"Well, tell me if you need anything, okay?" he says, raising his eyebrows in an I'm-not-messing-around expression. It's the best he can do, seeing as his alpha voice isn't very effective on Seonghwa.

"I will," Seonghwa says. He gives Hongjoong's hand a reassuring pat, then takes a deep breath and pushes himself back up, moving to join Yeosang in putting the finishing touches on the wall of the nest.

After the nest is built and everyone is satisfied, they break off in ones and twos to get settled into their rooms, a brief rest before the rest of the day-one festivities get underway.

With five bedrooms and eight of them, they've always shared. At first, who ended up where changed year to year, but the past couple of trips, the room assignments have remained set, an unspoken understanding between them.

Yunho and Mingi are in the only bedroom on the first floor—an arrangement the rest of them were more than happy to agree to given how vocal Mingi gets in bed.

On the second floor are three rooms. Wooyoung and San double up, while Jongho and Yeosang get their own, but they usually end up shuffling between each other's rooms throughout the trip, leaving one or even two rooms empty.

Then there's the master suite on the top floor—Hongjoong and Seonghwa's room.

It seemed only natural that they would share. Before the pack was even officially a pack, Hongjoong and Seonghwa were the leaders. They were the oldest, the ones whose first instinct was to take the others under their wing, and fit together well.

One of them could easily move down to a second-floor bedroom, but neither of them ever have. They've never even suggested it. Another of those unspoken things. At home, it's always their responsibility to the pack first, above all else. At the cabin, they can let go a little. For Hongjoong, that means not worrying about what sharing a bed might mean for their partnership and just enjoying Seonghwa's warm, comforting presence by his side for a few nights.

He can't decide if it's a blessing or a curse that Seonghwa can't sense the way he feels through the bond. On the one hand, it would make things a lot easier, would save him the agonizing over how Seonghwa would respond. On the other hand, it would be mortifying.

The others can feel it, though. It's the source of a lot of knowing glances and teasing smiles.

Hongjoong dumps his bag unceremoniously at the foot of the bed and collapses onto it, groaning into the thick duvet.

"Joongie, not in your dirty travel clothes," Seonghwa scolds gently, nudging Hongjoong's foot with his own.

"This is the softest bed in the world," Hongjoong says, face still pressed to the heavenly cushy comforter. He extends his arms and spreads his hands, running them over the luxurious and no doubt expensive fabric, like he's making a facedown snow angel. "I'm never getting up again."

He hears Seonghwa snort a laugh and the sound of drawers opening and closing as he transfers all of his clothes from his suitcase to the large cedar dresser, because even if they're only here for three days, Seonghwa needs everything neat and tidy and in its place.

Hongjoong turns his head to watch, indulging a bit while Seonghwa is occupied.

He looks beautiful, of course. A given. His long, dark hair is tucked behind his ears, soft strands curling against his cheek and his neck.

Even in his casual traveling clothes, he looks chic. Working as a purchaser for a luxury department store, he gets access to a lot of brands, and he makes good use of that.

He's shed his gray and black Isabel Marant sweater and is down to a tank top and loose-fitting cotton trousers. The way he always manages to match exact shades of black is endlessly impressive to Hongjoong. Hongjoong considers himself no slouch in the fashion department, but he's all bright colors and unconventional silhouettes, pairing incongruous pieces together and making it work. Seonghwa is put together, understated, elegant.

Hongjoong's gaze traces the taper from Seonghwa's broad shoulders to his waist. He's been spending a lot of time in the gym over the past year, and the results are obvious. His waist has always been sinfully tiny—something Hongjoong has tried many times not to feel anything about and failed—but with his broader shoulders, it looks even smaller in contrast.

Seonghwa puts away the last of his clothes and turns toward the bed. Hongjoong quickly averts his gaze, pretending to be very fascinated by the fabric of the comforter.

Seonghwa neatly stores his suitcase in the closet and then starts on Hongjoong's.

After he pulls the fifth hat from the luggage, he lets out a laugh, part disbelieving, part fond. "Did you pack your entire hat collection for a three-day trip?"

He puts the hat on and turns his head this way and that. It's a newsboy-style flat cap, the brand logo stitched in mismatched rhinestones on the brim. It's not even practical—it would be utterly useless against the bitingly cold mountain air—but Hongjoong thought it would look good with one of the outfit options he packed.

It looks good on Seonghwa now, because of course it does. A paper bag would look good on him.

Despite his teasing, he places it on top of the dresser with care, next to the other hats he already unpacked. Some practical, like beanies and fuzzy earflap hats, some decidedly not.

"Hey, you can never go wrong with a good hat," Hongjoong says, defensive in a playful way. "It elevates a look."

Seonghwa can't argue with that. He just shakes his head and smiles, and Hongjoong can't help his own smile at the sight of it.

He folds his arms under him, pillowing his cheek on his forearms, and watches Seonghwa unpack the rest of his luggage, a silence warm and comfortable and familiar as a well-worn quilt settling over them.

A part of Hongjoong wants to protest that Seonghwa doesn't need to do that, that he should rest, but he knows that this is helping Seonghwa feel better. Once everything is in its place, some tension releases from Seonghwa's shoulders.

"I'm going to take a bath," Seonghwa declares.

"Sounds good," Hongjoong says, glad Seonghwa is taking some time for himself. "I guess I should go check up on the others before they come knocking down our door."

He's learned from experience that the younger ones get antsy if they're separated for too long. He can't blame them; the point of this trip is to be together as a pack, and they want to soak up every moment of that. Which sometimes means invading Hongjoong and Seonghwa's room and piling onto the bed, all eight of them at once.

Seonghwa smiles gratefully and gathers his things before disappearing into the bathroom. It's the perfect place for a bit of self care—heated marble floor, white quartz countertop, claw-footed soaking bathtub.

Hongjoong gives himself until he hears the rush of the faucet being turned on, then forces himself up and out of the room.

With each flight of stairs he descends, the commotion of the rest of the pack in the kitchen gets louder and louder.

The first floor of the cabin has an open floor plan, the living room flowing into the informal dining room, then to the kitchen, separated only by a large, marble-topped island.

Hongjoong pauses a moment at the foot of the stairs, taking in the sight of the pack under the warm glow of the kitchen's chandelier lighting, a fond smile quirking up one side of his mouth. As much as he likes to grouse, he truly wouldn't trade this trip for anything in the world.

His alpha rumbles contentedly in his chest, a surge of affection traveling through the bond, making the six of them look up at once.

"We're making hot chocolate!" Mingi calls, a wide smile lighting his face.

Hongjoong pads into the kitchen and takes in the chaos. Organized chaos, but chaos nonetheless. Drips of milk and smears of chocolate on the marble countertops; a pile of wet paper towels from an earlier spill; a bag of marshmallows ripped down the middle, its contents spilling out. San plucks a marshmallow up and pops it into his mouth, and Jongho lightly taps the back of his neck.

"Aish, we're not going to have any left if you keep doing that," he says, while San rubs the back of his neck and gives his best pitiful kitten eyes, extra-sweet waves of his scent rolling off of him.

"Oh no, that innocent omega act isn't going to work on me," he says, crossing his arms over his chest, but Hongjoong can see he's already melting, his eyes softening. With a defeated sigh, the beta picks up a few more marshmallows and places them on the counter in front of San.

"There," he says. "Now no more until the hot chocolate is ready." He takes the bag for good measure.

San, satisfied, nuzzles into Jongho's shoulder in thanks, and Jongho's stern demeanor crumbles. He leans his pinkening cheek against the top of San's head, his usually subdued coffee and marshmallow scent growing stronger and blending perfectly with the smells of the kitchen.

Wooyoung is by the stove, continually whisking a large pot of milk to ensure it doesn't burn. He's giving it all of his focus. Yeosang, his fellow alpha, hovers by his side, watching and waiting for whatever Wooyoung might need.

Hongjoong would just as soon drink the instant stuff mixed with water, and that's why he's banned from helping in Wooyoung's kitchen. Wooyoung always insists on the old-fashioned way—milk and cocoa and sugar and a stove—because it tastes better and, besides, that's how they've been doing it since their first cabin trip. It's part of the tradition now.

Hongjoong takes up his usual role of supervising, which really just means keeping out of the way.

Mingi is in charge of the whipped cream—also made from scratch. Jongho, having secured the marshmallows, is setting up a toppings station. He and Wooyoung made their customary pre-trip grocery run earlier in the week and stocked up on crushed peppermint, chocolate flakes, and festive sprinkles. There's also a bottle of Bailey's waiting on the counter for later in the night.

Yunho, tasked with locating and distributing everyone's favorite mugs, sidles up to Hongjoong.

"How's Seonghwa?" he asks softly. As the third oldest, he's someone he and Seonghwa lean on a lot for support in caring for the pack. He's gotten good at regulating his scent and emotions through the bond, so the others don't pick up on anything and worry.

"He's okay," Hongjoong says, then silently adds, I think. "He's taking a bath right now."

By the time the hot chocolate is ready and doled out into mugs, Seonghwa still hasn't emerged.

"He's going to miss it," San whines, his lilac and petrichor scent souring. Hongjoong sends him a quelling look, gentle but reproachful. He understands San's distress. He's a fairly new omega, having just shifted from alpha to omega, and he's been extra clingy—which is saying something—lately. 

"He's not feeling well. We should let him rest if he needs to rest," Hongjoong says. Although he can't deny he's feeling a little unsettled as well. He doesn't like having Seonghwa out of sight when he could be suffering, especially because he can't sense it through the bond, has no way of knowing if Seonghwa is in need. It sets his alpha on edge. He tries his best to stifle the instinct, not wanting to upset any of them further.

"He can rest in the nest, though," San says, a pleading note in his voice.

It's another one of their traditions: hot chocolate in the nest, in front of the fire.

"I'll go check on him, see if he's up for it," Hongjoong says.

"Take him his hot chocolate too," Wooyoung says. He presses Seonghwa's mug—decorated with rabbits hopping through a wintry landscape—into Hongjoong's hands. He gives Hongjoong a significant look and urges him on through the bonds. There are no words, but a pressure, like a hand against Hongjoong's back, pushing him forward.

Of all of them, Wooyoung is the least shy about letting Hongjoong know that he thinks this dance they've been doing around each other for years is ridiculous.

Hongjoong, knowing Seonghwa's penchant for sweets, pauses to add a generous dollop of whipped cream to the hot chocolate. He determinedly ignores the knowing looks he can sense the pack sending back and forth through the bond.

While the rest of them finish doctoring up their drinks and move to the nest, Hongjoong heads upstairs.

As he nears the bedroom door, there's a hint of something in the air, warm and rich and floral. Hongjoong only gets a brief whiff of it, but it's intoxicating. Maybe some new bath product Seonghwa got. He's got a warehouse's worth of expensive toiletries, courtesy of his job. The one good thing about not having a scent, he's said—he can use any scented product he likes without worrying about it clashing.

"Seonghwa," Hongjoong calls gently, tapping on the door. It's his room too, but he doesn't want to barge in on Seonghwa sleeping…or undressed.

"Come in," Seonghwa calls back.

Hongjoong opens the door and nearly spills Seonghwa's hot chocolate all down himself.

Seonghwa, perched on the edge of the bed, isn't undressed, but he is clad in nothing but a fluffy white robe, which is parted around a thigh he's currently rubbing lotion into, the golden skin shining.

The flare of shyness and arousal that shoots through Hongjoong is so strong he's sure the others will feel it through the bond and he'll be teased mercilessly later.

He quickly averts his gaze, fixing his eyes on the painting hung above the bed. A landscape of evergreen trees and snow, an overcast sky, not unlike the view out of the bedroom windows. Why would you need a painting of the forest over the bed when you've got the real thing just outside? Hongjoong wonders to distract himself. Rich people.

"How was your bath?" Hongjoong asks. He chances a look at Seonghwa, sees how soft and inviting his blow-dryed hair looks, and focuses back on the stupid painting.

"It was wonderful," Seonghwa sighs. "I'm feeling a bit better, I think."

"That's good," Hongjoong says. He didn't realize how tense he was until that moment, when his shoulders relax and his alpha settles. "I brought you your hot chocolate. Just in case."

Seonghwa sets the lotion aside and, mercifully, closes the robe over his legs. He takes the hot chocolate carefully from Hongjoong and cradles it in both hands, bringing it up to his nose and inhaling deeply before taking a sip.

"Mmm," he sighs. "Thank you."

There's a bit of whipped cream clinging to his upper lip, and Hongjoong can't take his eyes off of it. Without thinking, he reaches down and swipes it away with his thumb.

Seonghwa startles slightly at the touch, and Hongjoong draws back quickly, ears burning.

"Sorry, you just had some whipped cream there," he says quickly.

"That's okay," Seonghwa replies just as quickly, nearly cutting Hongjoong off. "Thanks."

A silence falls between them, not comfortable and familiar like before, but awkward and weighted.

Hongjoong at least has the presence of mind to not lick the whipped cream off his thumb and wipes it away on his jeans instead.

Seonghwa doesn't playfully chastise him, doesn't say there are tissues right over there in the bathroom he could have used. He seems at a loss for words, his brow furrowed in an expression Hongjoong can't parse.

He's about to ask if he's sure he's feeling all right, when Seonghwa abruptly stands and walks over to the dresser.

"You can go ahead, Joongie," he says. "I'll get dressed and be right down."

"Oh, yeah, sure, sounds good," Hongjoong says. He hesitates for a moment. He has the urge to say something reassuring, though he isn't sure what, or even why.

He's grateful to climb into the nest, the combination of all their scents immediately soothing the anxious prickle in his chest.

Seonghwa joins not long after, looking somehow adorable and refined at once in his red silk pajama set.

He can't sense the way Hongjoong's heart falters, then beats double time, but the others can, and Hongjoong in return can feel the general, shared feeling of Here he goes again.

Seonghwa settles down, and immediately Wooyoung and San descend on him, cuddling close on either side and pressing their faces into his neck, scenting him. Though it doesn't affect Seonghwa the way it would if he were presented, it's still appreciated, and he kisses the crowns of their heads in thanks.

"You feel so warm," San says, pressing his forehead against Seonghwa's. "Warmer than usual."

He frowns up at Seonghwa, brows pinched, confusion in his eyes. He tilts his head, deep in thought.

"Probably from my bath," Seonghwa says reassuringly. He rubs San's back, and Wooyoung helps by releasing a reassuring wave of his leather and vetiver scent. It's a warm, musky scent, like being enveloped in a warm hug.

Not much later, though, Wooyoung is moving away from Seonghwa, a concerned frown on his face now. "Seriously, you're burning up," he says.

"Well, maybe it's because I have two clingy packmates lying on me," Seonghwa teases.

Wooyoung doesn't look so convinced. He presses a hand to Seonghwa's forehead, like Hongjoong did earlier.

"I'm fine, Wooyoung. It's just a little hot in here, that's all. And I had a hot bath and the hot chocolate."

Seonghwa is clearly ready for the subject to be dropped and redirects their attention by asking which games everyone wants to play for their night-one game night.

It's an effective distraction, as the discussion quickly develops into a spirited debate.

Mingi, as always, proposes Mafia and is quickly shot down. No game of Mafia has ever gone well for them; they're all either too bad at lying or too competitive.

"We also have to decide which movie we're gonna watch," San says. The movie night tradition is definitely more his speed. He loves to get cozy and cuddly beneath the blankets, snack on all the sweets they bought, and watch a movie he loves. Usually a romance movie.

The game night debate was just settling down, but conversation whips up again as the pack begins calling out and vetoing movie suggestions.

By the time they've settled on three options—they couldn't manage to make it down to one, so it'll come to a vote later—their mugs are either empty or gone cold. Seonghwa stands, gathering up the mugs of anyone who wants theirs refreshed, and heads to the kitchen, waving off offers of help.

Hongjoong watches him go, tracking him all the way until he disappears through the arched kitchen entryway. He tries to settle down, to get involved in the discussion of the merits of the three film options, but he can't. All of his focus is still on Seonghwa, his alpha pacing anxiously behind his ribcage.

"I'll be right back. Gonna see if Seonghwa needs help with the mugs—don't want him spilling hot chocolate on himself," he says.

The others, thoroughly engrossed in their debate over historical romance versus historical action, barely acknowledge him as he gets up and hurries to the kitchen.

When he gets to the kitchen, he stops short, his attempt at a casual greeting dying on his tongue.

Whatever front Seonghwa had been putting up out there, he's dropped now that he thinks he's alone. He has one hand braced on the marble countertop, the other cradling his forehead, and his face is screwed up in an expression of clear pain. In front of him is an empty water glass and a bottle of ibuprofen.

"Hwa?" Hongjoong says, taking a cautious step toward him.

Seonghwa jumps hard, his hand knocking the pill bottle off the counter, white pills scattering across the gleaming kitchen tiles. He quickly crouches down to clean them up, not looking at Hongjoong. "I didn't hear you come in."

"Sorry," Hongjoong says. He hurries over to help Seonghwa, trying to catch his eye.

"It's fine," Seonghwa says. He pauses, looking at the pills cupped in his palm, probably trying to decide what to do with them now that they've touched the floor, then glances up at Hongjoong and just as quickly away again. "Did you need something?"

Hongjoong almost laughs. It's so Seonghwa, in a way that's both frustrating and endearing, to be worrying about someone else right now.

"No, I just came to check on you."

Seonghwa looks up, mouth opening, and Hongjoong knows exactly what he's about to say.

"Don't say you're fine."

Seonghwa's mouth snaps closed and he smiles a crooked, rueful smile. "It's nothing. Just some aches, and my head was hurting. But I'm f– I feel okay. I wanna be here, with everyone."

A part of Hongjoong wants to scoop Seonghwa into his arms and carry him upstairs, force him under the blankets, and feed him soup and tea and orange juice. But he's utterly powerless against the pleading way Seonghwa is looking at him.

"Okay, if you're sure. But tell me if you start to feel worse," he says.

Seonghwa smiles gratefully and nods. "I will. Thank you, Joongie. And please, don't tell anyone."

"I won't," Hongjoong says.

Seonghwa lays his hand over Hongjoong's where it rests on the floor and squeezes it in silent thanks.

Clearing his throat, Hongjoong stands up and locates the mugs, hooking his fingers through the handles of three of them. "I'll help you with these," he says. He takes a moment to collect himself, a deep breath to settle his alpha, then heads back to the nest.

For the rest of the day, he keeps a close eye on Seonghwa. Other than some extra color in his cheeks, he really does seem to be doing okay. He helps Wooyoung and Mingi in the kitchen. He enthusiastically participates in game night, being his usual over-the-top self, making Wooyoung double over with laughter. He argues passionately for his movie pick—How to Train Your Dragon—and sulks dramatically when he's outvoted until Yeosang and Jongho hug him and scent him to comfort him, which is really what he was after.

Then he takes charge of setting everything up for movie night. Because their nest has taken over the main living room, movie night takes place in the second, smaller one. It's more like a den—lower ceilings, smaller windows, a couch upholstered in a green plaid pattern. Seonghwa brings in stacks of blankets for them to cuddle under, plates and carries in all of the snacks, makes sure everyone has their drink of choice, then gets the movie started. The historical romance about two star-crossed lovers received the most votes, much to San's delight.

Hongjoong settles into the far left corner of the couch. It's his designated spot because he always, without fail, falls asleep during movie night and needs a nice corner to curl up and get comfortable in.

Everyone else spends the first few minutes of the movie arguing over where they're going to sit. Mingi, of course, has to be next to Yunho, while Wooyoung also wants to be next to Yunho, but also Jongho and Yeosang, and San is clinging to Yeosang like a piece of sticky candy.

They eventually end up with Jongho on the far right side, next to Yunho, who he knows won't try to initiate any affection without Jongho inviting it. Then Mingi, then Wooyoung, with Yeosang squished tight between him and San, then Seonghwa last, next to Hongjoong.

This couch isn't nearly as big as the monster of a sectional in the other living room, so they end up sitting close, their thighs pressed together.

"Are you comfortable?" Seonghwa whispers. The rest of the pack has finally quieted and is deeply absorbed in the movie.

Hongjoong nods. He hopes Seonghwa isn't close enough to feel his racing heart, giving away his lie.

"What about you?"

Seonghwa smiles at him, the light of the TV reflected in his dark eyes. "Very," he says.

"Great," Hongjoong says. The word comes out of him squeaky and breathless, like air leaking out of a balloon.

He tries to get into the movie, but he doesn't process even a second of it. Instead, he spends the whole two hours aware only of Seonghwa's body beside his. The warmth of his skin, the smell of his bath products, every point of contact between them.

For once, he stays awake for the entire movie.

❄️

It should be illegal to have to get up before the sun does, Hongjoong thinks. Especially on vacation. Especially after he spent half the night lying awake because Seonghwa was right next to him. Sure, he's stayed up all night and worked right through sunrise many times before, but that's different.

Being shaken awake by a much too energetic Wooyoung—probably already four shots of espresso in his system—and forced to leave the warm embrace of the 1,500 thread count sheets for the cruel cold of pre-dawn is just torture.

Of course, he's the last one downstairs. He barely stirred when Seonghwa slipped out of bed, slept right through him showering and getting dressed, and the clamor of breakfast making.

He shuffles into the kitchen still half asleep.

"You aren't dressed!" Wooyoung says, taking in the state of him with a critical eye. Brown hair a nest, still in the oversized t-shirt and flannel pajama pants he slept in.

The rest of them are already dressed for the hike, the first of their day-two traditions. A hike to the top of the mountain, where they can get a spectacular view of the snow-capped peaks in the distance and the expansive valley below.

"Coffee first," he says in a sleepy rasp.

Moments later, hands are pressing a warm mug into his. Seonghwa's hands. The corners of his eyes are crinkled in a smile, somewhere between fond amusement and admonishment.

"I tried to wake you earlier," he says.

"You know Hongjoong," Mingi says. "He would sleep through an avalanche."

Hongjoong scowls, and Seonghwa laughs.

"Why don't you go get dressed and I'll get your backpack packed," he says.

Hongjoong sighs, heavy with relief, and nods. "Thanks, you're an angel," he says, his brain still too tired to filter out the gooey term of endearment.

He feels the rest of them through the bond, coming to attention like wolves pricking their ears, catching the scent of prey nearby.

Seonghwa only continues to smile at him gently. No big deal. This is what they do, after all: take care of each other.

"Looks like you'll need one of those hats today," he says and reaches up to run his fingers through Hongjoong's haystack hair, trying to smooth it down. A fruitless endeavor.

Hongjoong feels his face flame red and tries to hide it in his coffee mug, taking a large gulp, which only succeeds in burning the hell out of his tongue and the roof of his mouth.

It's cold as shit out. Just like it is every year, but that doesn't mean Hongjoong's any more prepared for it. He shoves his gloved hands into the pocket of his puffer jacket and buries the lower half of his face in his scarf, so only his eyes and the tuft of his bangs sticking from beneath his beanie are visible.

He knows he'll warm up once they start moving, and that he'll ultimately enjoy the hike, but he just needs to be dramatic for a bit.

There's a fine layer of snow on the ground, but the evergreens are dense enough that the trail is mostly clear.

They hike up single file, the trail too narrow to walk side-by-side, Wooyoung in the front, nimbly navigating roots and stones, and Seonghwa in the back, keeping an eye on everyone.

They're a noisy group at first, invigorated by the cold air, but eventually settle into a comfortable silence, enjoying each other's presence and the serene beauty of the forest.

It takes Hongjoong longer than it should to realize Seonghwa is struggling. He's been hiding it well, sending Hongjoong smiles and thumbs up each time Hongjoong glanced back to check on him.

It's caught up to him, though, and this time when Hongjoong glances back, Seonghwa is much further behind than he should be, face flushed, breathing hard. Seonghwa goes to the gym five days a week. He can last on a stairmaster for an hour. This hike should be nothing for him, but he looks about three seconds from passing out.

Hongjoong draws up short, his alarm lighting up through the bond like a flare, alerting the others, who also stop.

"I'm fine," Seonghwa says when Hongjoong rushes to his side, before Hongjoong can get a word in.

"You're clearly not," Hongjoong says. He injects a bit of his pack alpha voice into it, even though it won't affect Seonghwa. He'll at least know how serious Hongjoong is.

He makes Seonghwa sit on a nearby rock and retrieves his water bottle from his backpack. He watches as Seonghwa drinks deeply, then takes it back with an approving nod.

The rest of the pack hovers, their concern thrumming through the ties of the bond like electricity through wires.

"I'm sorry," Seonghwa says, his voice cracking, giving under the strain of pretending he's okay. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I must be getting sick, but I didn't want to ruin our trip."

"You're not ruining anything," Hongjoong says, cutting off that train of thought before it can go any further.

Despite the cold, Seonghwa's face is flushed, sweat beaded across his forehead.

Deep in Hongjoong's gut, a suspicion sparks, his alpha stirring in recognition. He doesn't let himself follow that line of thinking at the moment. Right now, he needs to focus on getting Seonghwa back inside, comfortable and warm.

"I'll take you back to the cabin," Hongjoong says. He feels a needling sense of guilt in his gut, thinking he could have prevented this. If he hadn't just accepted it when Seonghwa said he was fine, if he hadn't assumed that whatever it was, Seonghwa could handle it, because he's Seonghwa.

To his relief, Seonghwa doesn't argue, doesn't insist that Hongjoong finish the hike, and that he'll be okay. He nods and accepts Hongjoong's help standing up, holding onto his arm while Hongjoong cups his elbow.

"Should we come too?" Yeosang asks. Hongjoong can hear his alpha whining through the bond.

"No, no, you all go on, enjoy the hike," Seonghwa says, smiling apologetically.

"Are you sure?" San asks. He moves down the trail toward them, worry wrinkling his brow. His eyes search Seonghwa's face and the crease between his eyebrows deepens. It's as if he recognizes something he sees there in Seonghwa but can't place it.

"I'm sure, Sannie," Seonghwa says. "I'd feel even worse if everyone missed the hike because of me."

San nods but seems reluctant to rejoin the group, eyes still darting around Seonghwa's face, trying to work out some puzzle. Seonghwa smiles and pulls him into a hug. He rubs his back and kisses his brow, then runs his thumb over it, smoothing his worried expression.

Yunho steps in then, putting a gentle, reassuring hand on San's shoulder and drawing him back to the group, his soothing scent enveloping them.

Hongjoong gives him a silent nod of thanks. They linger, unsure, for a few moments—none of them like splitting up the pack—but then set off up the trail, Yunho in the lead now.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa head the opposite way, back down toward the cabin. They're quiet, Hongjoong's mind a whirr of possibilities and what to do about them, Seonghwa focused on putting one foot in front of the other. He's leaning on Hongjoong for support, and Hongjoong can feel the heat radiating from his skin through all of their layers.

The third time Seonghwa stumbles over a rock, Hongjoong stops, puts his backpack on his front, and steps in front of Seonghwa, knees bent and arms reaching back for him. "Come on, hop on."

He doesn't need the bond to feel Seonghwa's hesitation. "It's fine, Joongie, I can walk," he says.

Hongjoong doesn't budge. He knows he's on the smaller side, but he is strong, and it wouldn't be the first time he's given one of the pack a piggyback ride.

Seonghwa hesitates another moment, and Hongjoong looks over his shoulder at him, face set in a this isn't up for debate expression.

Despite the hesitation, Seonghwa gives him a grateful smile before he—very carefully—hops on.

With their height difference, it takes some adjustment, and it is hard, but Hongjoong powers through. Seonghwa is a warm, solid weight on his back, his arms looped loosely around his neck, cheek resting on top of his head.

"Doing okay back there?" Hongjoong asks, doing his best to keep the strain out of his voice.

"Mmm," Seonghwa hums in response. The sound vibrates through Hongjoong. He readjusts slightly and gives Seonghwa's thigh a reassuring squeeze.

"We're almost there." The trees are thinning, and he can see the glow of the cabin's windows in the near distance.

He hopes Seonghwa doesn't notice the way his arms and legs are beginning to shake.

He makes it the whole way, though—down the trail, out of the forest, even up the steps of the cabin's back patio.

Looking at Seonghwa, he probably didn't notice much of anything. He looks out of it, eyelids heavy, face flushed a feverish pink. He's swaying slightly where he stands.

Hongjoong leads him up to their bedroom by the hand. He would offer to carry him again, but he doesn't like his chances going up three flights of stairs after doing the whole hike, and the last thing he needs is for one of them to end up with a broken arm too.

In the bedroom, Seonghwa immediately begins shedding layers, like he can't get out of them fast enough, and leaves them in a very un-Seonghwa-like pile on the floor. Down to his underwear—a pair of red cotton panties patterned with everygreen trees, because Seonhgwa thinks of every detail—he collapses onto the bed with a bone-deep weary sigh.

He doesn't get under the covers, but lies starfished on top of them, face buried in a pillow.

"Can I get you anything?" Hongjoong asks.

"It's so hot," Seonghwa says into the pillows.

Hongjoong's mind is going in a million different directions at once, trying to think of every possible way to make Seonghwa feel better. He wants so badly to just be able to solve this, to make it all okay.

He forces himself to focus in on what Seonghwa is telling him. It's too hot in here; Hongjoong can do something about that. He's never learned how to work the high-tech heating system of the cabin, but that's fine.

First, he cracks the bedroom windows, letting in a trickle of cold air. Then, telling Seonghwa he'll be right back, he goes in search of a fan.

It takes him much longer to find one than he would've liked—it's a big cabin—but he does eventually locate one in the attic and hurries back to get it set up for Seonghwa.

When he returns, Seonghwa has gone from splayed out to curled up, one arm wrapped around his stomach, the other cradling his head.

"Hurts," he mumbles.

Hongjoong can do something about that, too.

After another quick reassurance, he hurries down to the kitchen to get Seonghwa water and painkillers. While he's down there, he finally takes a moment to stop and take stock of the situation.

Seonghwa's symptoms: hot flashes, feverish skin, sweating, brain fog, aches. They're symptoms that any good pack alpha should be familiar with. The symptoms of a pre-heat. And, in Seonghwa's case, the symptoms of someone about to present.

He takes the stairs slowly, giving himself time to think. He could tell Seonghwa, but what if he's wrong? As much as Seonghwa tries not to let it affect him, Hongjoong knows he struggles with being the only unpresented pack member. Seonghwa has confided in him before, told him he feels like he can't care for the rest of them or give himself to them as fully as he'd like because of it. Hongjoong would feel like a monster if he got Seonghwa's hopes up only for it to turn out to be something else.

Then, there's the possibility that Seonghwa already knows, or at least suspects, and is choosing not to say anything.

By the time Hongjoong reaches the bedroom door, he still hasn't decided what to do.

When he steps inside, several things hit him at once. First, the smell. It's the same one from last night, the one he thought was from Seonghwa's bath, but it's stronger now, strong enough for Hongjoong to pick up the individual notes of it—floral and heady, vanilla and jasmine.

Second, the way Seonghwa is looking at him. His eyes are glassy and heavy-lidded, and he's looking at Hongjoong with so much need, like he was lost until the moment Hongjoong stepped through the door.

Third, the thread he can feel pulling him to Seonghwa. The pack bond exists in their minds like a web of threads, connecting them in a complex tapestry of love and respect and trust. Seonghwa, as he's presenting, is being woven into it. It's a gossamer-thin thing now, probably only noticeable to Hongjoong because of his heightened pack alpha senses, but it's undeniably there and currently pulled tight with Seonghwa's need to have Hongjoong close.

"Joongie…" Seonghwa whines in a weak voice. The voice hits Hongjoong like a runaway truck. For a moment, he's nothing but pure alpha instinct, his brain screaming at him omega, hurt, pain, need.

"Shit," he mutters. This is progressing fast, faster than he was prepared for. There's no doubt now, though; Seonghwa is presenting as an omega and in the middle of an intense pre-heat. The first heat is always a lot. Hongjoong remembers San's, not long ago, after he transitioned to an omega. It tore his heart to pieces to hear those pitiful, pained whines and see San in tears from the ache of it.

He rushes to Seonghwa's side and Seonghwa reaches for him like a drowning man, Hongjoong his lifeline.

"I'm here," Hongjoong says. He wraps his arms around Seonghwa's shoulder while Seonghwa clings to his middle, his face buried in Hongjoong's shoulder. Hongjoong nuzzles into Seonghwa's soft hair and against his temple, scenting him. His bergamot and woodsmoke scent mixes with Seonghwa's emerging vanilla and jasmine one in a heady combination.

Hongjoong is not one of those alphas who loses all sense around an omega in heat. As pack alpha, it's his job to be the one to stay in control. He assists his omegas in whatever way they need, whether that be helping physically or at the ready with water, painkillers, food, whatever his omega and their heat partner—or partners—may need to get them through.

But now… His alpha feels as if it's straining against a leash, snarling to be let free. An omega—his omega—is in need. He needs to help, knot, breed. And Seonghwa isn't even in heat yet, isn't even fully presented.

Hongjoong forces those wilder feelings down and focuses on what Seonghwa needs now, as Seonghwa, not as an omega. He presses the glass of water into Seonghwa's hand, helping guide it to his mouth, holding it in place while Seonghwa takes deep, desperate gulps until the glass is drained.

"I can't believe this is happening here," he whispers. Hongjoong notices he's shaking slightly in his hold. "I'm sorry, Joongie."

Hongjoong pulls back in alarm. Seonghwa's arms tighten around him, and he releases another wave of his scent, reassuring Seonghwa he's not going anywhere. He only wants to be able to look at him fully.

"Don't be sorry, Hwa," he says. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I feel like I'm ruining our trip. We only get to do this once a year," Seonghwa says. His voice thickens with unshed tears. "I was already feeling the symptoms when we left, but I kept hoping it was something else, or it would at least wait until after the trip."

"You're not ruining anything. Besides, you should only be worrying about yourself right now. And I'm sure everyone else will feel the same. This is way bigger than the trip."

A little tension bleeds out of Seonghwa then, his head resting heavier on Hongjoong's chest. He doesn't relax totally, though, as if scared that if he lets go completely, he'll be lost to it.

"Whatever you need, I'm here for you. I mean it. Anything," Hongjoong says.

They're both quiet for a moment, the weight of Hongjoong's promise in the air between them. They've maintained a careful balance for so long. Partners, co-pack leaders, best friends. There's never been a proper label for what they are to each other, but it works. And Hongjoong tries hard to maintain that because it works so well. Whatever personal feelings he's developed, he's gotten good at setting aside for the good of the pack, and for Seonghwa. He's never wanted to push him. Once Seonghwa presents, he's always told himself, he wants him to be free to seek out whatever he wants in a mate. Or maybe he won't want a mate at all. Either way, Hongjoong doesn't want to tie him to anything.

But as his pack alpha, he will do whatever it takes to help Seonghwa through this. What comes after needles at the back of his mind, but he ignores it for now.

"I think I need to rest right now," Seonghwa says softly, breaking the weighty silence.

"Sure, of course," Hongjoong says. Gently, he extricates himself from Seonghwa's hold. Seonghwa is slower to let go, but does, scooting away and lying on his side, hugging a pillow to his chest. Hongjoong's pillow, from his side of the bed, Hongjoong notices.

Seonghwa buries his face in it, inhales deeply, holds it for a moment, then exhales, the remaining tension bleeding from his shoulders. He doesn't explicitly ask Hongjoong to stay, but Hongjoong can feel he wants him to.

Wordlessly, he lies behind Seonghwa. He keeps a respectful distance, but sends out another wave of his scent, a silent I'm here.

He should be cold, lying uncovered, the fan blowing full force, but the heat radiating from Seonghwa is keeping him plenty warm.

Surrounded by Seonghwa's warmth, the air thick with their combined scents, Hongjoong begins to sink into sleep as well.

"Hongjoong…" Seonghwa's voice floats to him, only just audible over the whirr of the fan.

"Hm?" Hongjoong hums, blinking back to alertness.

"Will you hold me?" Seonghwa asks. He sounds hesitant, almost apologetic. It tears at Hongjoong's heart.

"Of course," he says, instantly moving closer. He presses his chest to Seonghwa's back and loops an arm around his waist. "Better?"

Seonghwa nods.

Silence falls again, still weighted, but in a different way. In the way of finally feeling settled and safe, that everything will be okay. There are still a million and one questions—mostly ones that Hongjoong needs to ask himself—but those can wait. For now, it's just him and Seonghwa. His Seonghwa. His packmate, his partner.

His omega, his alpha whispers.

It's the only thing that matters right now.

They're the only two in the cabin, and everything is uncharacteristically quiet. Peaceful. They may as well be the only two in the whole world.

Hongjoong's eyes drift shut as he lets himself bask in the feeling.

"It's snowing," Seonghwa says a bit later.

Hongjoong blinks his eyes open and looks to the picture window and sees that it is. Fat, fluffy flakes fall against a backdrop of evergreen, like something on a Christmas card.

"It's beautiful," Seonghwa says. Hongjoong can hear the smile in his voice and it puts one on his face as well.

"I hope the others make it back okay," Seonghwa says.

"I'm sure they will," Hongjoong says. He shifts closer, brushing his nose against the side of Seonghwa's neck, over his scent gland. The smell of vanilla and jasmine is stronger here, intoxicating. Hongjoong lingers a moment longer before settling back.

Really, he's worried, too, but Seonghwa has enough to be dealing with; he doesn't need that weighing on him. And Hongjoong's job is to be here, with his pack member going through the painful process of a first heat. He has to put his trust in the rest of his pack to take care of each other in his absence.

Hongjoong doesn't quite fall asleep, but floats somewhere between. Sometime later, he stirs, the pack bond lighting up as the rest of them arrive at the cabin.

It's dark in the bedroom, and he's disoriented for a moment. How long have they been resting? As slowly and gently as he can, he pulls away from Seonghwa and turns to check the time on his phone. 11:43 a.m. Just a couple of hours. But there's no sunlight through the window to indicate the time. The sky, which before was a crisp blue with a smattering of clouds, is now a slate of dark gray. Snow is falling thick and fast, obscuring the view of the surrounding forest.

Distantly, he hears the back door open and the clatter of feet and voices, and feels the pack shining bright and present and near through the bond. Relief floods him, reaching across the threads of the bond to the rest of them. He hates to think of them stranded on top of the mountain with the snow coming down like this.

He checks on Seonghwa—fast asleep—then hurries down to meet the rest of them and update them on everything. He wonders if they can feel the beginnings of a bond with Seonghwa too, or if it's still only his heightened senses that can feel it.

He finds the pack in the mud room, kicking off boots and shedding snow-dusted jackets and hats. They're the picture of winter domesticity, all pink cheeks and red noses, snowflakes melting slowly in their hair and eyelashes. Any other time, Hongjoong would be ushering them to the nest while Seonghwa makes them hot chocolate to warm them.

Instead, they hover in an anxious bunch, all eyes trained on Hongjoong, wide and concerned. Hongjoong takes a moment to scent them all, pulling them close and nuzzling against their scent glands until he feels some of the nervous energy leave them. Not all of it—they need answers—but enough to help the tightly-wound knot in Hongjoong's chest ease just a bit.

"How was the hike?" Hongjoong asks. He tries to get a handle on his own muddled emotions surrounding Seonghwa. His being a mess isn't going to help anyone.

"We had to turn around before we got to the top. The snow got too heavy," Yunho says. As if to illustrate his point, he shakes his head like a dog after a bath, flinging melted snow out of his hair. The icy spray hits the rest of them and there's a chorus of protests and good-natured shoves.

Hongjoong laughs, the knot loosening that bit more. Having his pack around him always makes things easier.

"How's Seonghwa?" Mingi pipes up. His eyes are wide, his brows drawn in that concerned expression of his that makes him look like a nervous puppy. The rest of them go still and quiet instantly, obviously just as eager for Hongjoong's reply.

This is too big to talk about here, though, surrounded by muddy hiking shoes and old raincoats.

"Why don't you all go get warm and dry, and then we'll meet in the nest," he suggests, using his most placating voice because he knows they'll hate being asked to wait. But the nest would be the best place for a revelation like this. This is going to change their pack, and Hongjoong wants them to hear it somewhere they'll feel safe.

As he predicted, multiple packmates open their mouths at once to protest.

"Why can't you tell us before we change?" Wooyoung says.

"Is it really bad?" Mingi says, his brows drawing even higher.

"Where is Seonghwa, anyway?" Jongho says.

"He's fine; he's resting," Hongjoong says, at least able to give that much. "I'll explain it all once you all get changed and meet me in the nest, okay?" He injects a bit of his alpha voice into the request, letting them know how serious he is, and they duck their heads and whine softly.

"Come on," Yunho says, opening his arms and sweeping them all towards the stairs like a human snowplow. "I'll bring everyone towels."

Hongjoong paces the living room while he waits, trying his best not to let his stress-sour scent pollute the nest.

In ones and twos, the rest of the pack joins him, hair towel-tossled, dressed in cozy flannel pajamas and oversized sweat sets. More than a couple of them are wearing another's clothes.

They settle into the nest, all of them keeping close, seeking comfort in each other's touch and scent.

Hongjoong joins them, choosing a spot where they can all see him. Yeosang and Mingi, the two nearest to him, shift a bit closer, toward his grounding pack alpha scent.

There's a long moment of silence, a collective held breath, while Hongjoong thinks best how to begin. He decides the best thing to do is just come out and say it—it's nothing bad, really, just…big.

"Seonghwa is presenting," he says, and there's another moment of silence while they all process what he just said with zero preamble. "As an omega. And he's in pre-heat. It's progressing fast—the presenting and the pre-heat. Hot flashes, soreness, sensitivity to scents, need for physical contact. It's all there." He plows on, raising his voice slightly when he sees a couple of them opening their mouths to say something. This is huge news, exciting in many ways, and he knows they must be bursting at the seams, but he needs to get it all out there first.

"He's resting now. He hasn't needed…anything yet. But we need to figure out a plan," he says, then nods to show he's said his piece and the rest of them are free to share now.

Immediately, all their voices spring forth. Cries of excitement, of how happy they are for Seonghwa. Triumphant declarations that they knew he was going to be an omega, and half the pack now owes them money. Questions, of course, so many Hongjoong doesn't know where to begin.

He holds up a hand. Bit by bit, they settle. Some of them—namely Wooyoung and Mingi—are nearly shaking with the effort of keeping quiet.

"Questions one at a time," Hongjoong says. He keeps his voice gentle, showing that he's not upset, but also injects a little alpha authority. Things already feel so uncertain; he doesn't need this spiraling out of control. And he doesn't want to wake Seonghwa. With as rambunctious as the pack can get, there's no doubt their voices would be audible from three floors down.

Several hands shoot into the air, like eager students, and it brings a smile to Hongjoong's face. He points to Wooyoung first. If he doesn't, Wooyoung may actually explode.

"Who's going to spend his heat with him?" Wooyoung immediately bursts out. Right to the heart of the matter.

"Hongjoong, obviously," San says. "He's the pack alpha."

"It'll probably be my responsibility, yes," Hongjoong says, working harder than ever to keep his voice and his scent steady and neutral. It should be so simple: a pack alpha cares for a newly presented member of their pack. But it's Seonghwa, and it's Hongjoong, which complicates things. "But it's Seonghwa's decision."

"He'll want you," Jongho says matter-of-factly.

Hongjoong can at least attempt to control his scent, but there's nothing he can do about the rapid reddening of his cheeks.

Seonghwa already said as much when they were cuddling earlier, and Hongjoong all but promised himself to him, but maybe it was a heat-of-the-moment thing; maybe Seonghwa will change his mind.

When his heat hits him, he may still want the pack alpha, or he may want a different alpha—like Wooyoung, who he spends a lot more time with—or he may not want an alpha at all. Hongjoong should be prepared for any possibility

"Should we end the trip early? Go home?" Mingi asks.

Another question Hongjoong has been considering, one that's a bit easier for him to face head on. It would be ideal for Seonghwa to be somewhere familiar, where they know they'll have access to anything they might need. He casts an anxious glance toward the windows, to where snow is still falling heavily outside.

"We'll assess when he wakes up," he says diplomatically.

Others cast their gaze to the snow—which seems to be developing into a full-blown blizzard—and shift and murmur amongst themselves.

It could be worse. This cabin may not be home, but it's something like it, somewhere precious to all of them. It's comforting and safe, and full of memories, a physical reminder of their years coming together and growing as a pack. And they're all together, Seonghwa surrounded by his pack, right there when he'll most need and crave their presence. There are worse circumstances this could be happening under, Hongjoong tells himself, trying to ease his own unsettled mind.

"Can we see him?" San pipes up. Of all of them, San is most familiar with what Seonghwa must be going through right now, with his transition fresh in his mind.

That's what they all want most right now. Hongjoong can feel them through the bond, the threads tugging toward Seonghwa.

"How about you and Mingi go. We don't want to overwhelm him," Hongjoong says.

He feels the disappointment of the others, but also the undercurrent of understanding. With his newly heightened senses, all of their scents at once would be a lot to take in. His fellow omegas are the best equipped to help and comfort him right now.

San and Mingi hurry upstairs, and Hongjoong refocuses the rest of them on the matter at hand—the plan.

First order of business, Seonghwa is going to need to eat when he wakes up. Wooyoung is already in charge of most of the trip's meals—by his own choice, because he can't help but take control of a kitchen. And because he loves cooking for them, of course.

Hongjoong tasks Yeosang and Jongho with preparing a heat kit—painkillers, a heating pad, a cold compress, and lots and lots of snacks. The basic kit they have ready for their omegas' heats. They don't have a ready prepared one in the cabin because they've always been sure to schedule the trip around heats and ruts, and Hongjoong silently chastises himself for not having some ready anyway, just in case.

While the rest of them complete their various tasks, Hongjoong paces anxiously. He feels lost without something to do. His main job right now is to keep the rest of the pack at ease and be ready for anything they might need, but he's not good at the sit-and-wait thing. He wants to be doing something. The uncomfortable prickle of pent-up energy under his skin is only heightened by the Seonghwa of it all.

Yunho says his name softly in his ear, momentarily pulling Hongjoong from his thoughts.

"Yes?" Hongjoong says, eager to make himself useful.

Yunho is frowning, the lemony note of his scent gone sharp and extra tart with his worry. He holds his phone up for Hongjoong to see, showing the weather app he has open. Hongjoong tracks the endless parade of cloud and tiny snowflake symbols that represent heavy snowfall, and the alert at the top that reads "Severe Winter Weather Warning."

"It's supposed to get worse all day," Yunho says softly. "I don't think we'll be able to get home. We may even be stuck here longer than we planned."

Hongjoong curses under his breath. He hates this feeling—of being out of control, helpless to fulfill his duty to his pack.

His anxiety and frustration travel in jagged currents through him and out through the bond. Yunho whines softly, a quiet sound in the back of his throat completely out of his control, his beta responding to the emotions of his alpha.

"Sorry, Yun," Hongjoong says. He forces himself to stop for a moment and take a deep breath. He inhales until he can't hold it anymore and then lets it out slowly. As he lets the breath out, he slumps, holding himself up with his hands braced against the back of the couch. "He shouldn't be going through this here; he should be home," he says softly.

"This is a kind of home," Yunho says. He keeps his voice soft too, calming, and lays a large hand against Hongjoong's back. "This is a place he knows and loves, and he's surrounded by his pack."

Hongjoong nods. Yunho is right, of course. But he can't help that anxious voice at the back of his mind that says this isn't right, he needs more time to prepare.

"We're all here for him, and we're all here for you, too," Yunho says.

Hongjoong nods in silent gratitude and sends the feeling through the bond so Yunho knows how much it means to him.

"I feel like I failed him," he admits softly. Of all the pack, Yunho is the only one he feels ready to admit that to, at least right now. It's so new, so fresh. Hongjoong generally likes to build up a bit of a protective layer over any tender spots before he lets others see them.

Yunho doesn't say anything, just tilts his head to show Hongjoong he's listening.

"I should have known… He wasn't feeling well yesterday, and it was all there. The fever, the flushing, the sweating, the pain. I should have known. But I didn't. I didn't say anything. He was going through that alone while I was oblivious. And I should have known better. I'm the pack alpha, and he's my… He's like my right hand. I'm supposed to know him better than anyone. I'm supposed to be there for him."

As he goes on, his eyes grow hot, pricking with unshed tears. Frustration, sadness, regret, anger, and stress swirl unpleasantly in his gut.

Yunho gently draws him close, and Hongjoong allows himself to be cradled against Yunho's warm chest, the scent of laundry and lemon filling his nose. Face hidden, he lets a few stray tears fall.

"You didn't fail him. Look how much you're doing to care for him now."

Hongjoong blows out a breath and nods against Yunho's chest. He doesn't feel steady enough to speak at the moment.

"And he could have told you any time. He wanted to wait until he was ready."

"But he shouldn't have had to," Hongjoong starts to say.

Yunho cuts him off with a soft laugh. "You put way too much pressure on yourself. Both of you do. Maybe this will be a good lesson in being a little less stubborn," he says lightly. There's truth to the statement, but it's lighthearted, and Yunho gently prods Hongjoong in the ribs to show he's only teasing.

Hongjoong laughs wetly and scrubs his nose with his sleeve. "Thanks, Yunho," he says. If Seonghwa is his right hand, helping him lead the pack, then Yunho is his foundation, holding him steady.

"Of course," Yunho says and kisses the crown of Hongjoong's head. He nuzzles into Hongjoong's hair, scenting him. They stay like that for a while, Hongjoong safe and secure in Yunho's arms, until some of the tension he's been carrying all day bleeds from him. Yunho hums in approval.

"Now, you need to relax and eat something," he says. He gently unwraps Hongjoong from his hold and steers him to the couch, sits him down, and throws a fluffy red throw blanket over his lap.

It's only then that Hongjoong realizes he hasn't eaten anything since before they left for the hike, and right on cue, his stomach growls, making Yunho chuckle.

"I'll bring you something," Yunho says.

"I'll come with you. I should check on Wooyoung anyway, and see what snacks Yeosang and Jongho have dug up," Hongjoong says. He makes to toss the blanket aside and stand up, but is stopped by Yunho's hand on his shoulder, pressing him firmly back into the couch cushions.

"No, stay. We've all helped an omega through a heat before; we know what we're doing," Yunho reminds him.

Hongjoong opens his mouth to argue, but stops himself, knowing Yunho is right. His cheeks burn slightly with embarrassment. The others have had to sit him down and give him a talk about his tendency to be a control freak before, and he's always tried to do better, but it's a hard thing for him to let go of.

"Okay, thank you," he says again, in a soft tone of surrender.

"Don't move," Yunho says and points his finger at Hongjoong, a playful warning.

Hongjoong crosses his heart and then folds his hands obediently in his lap.

Seemingly satisfied, Yunho pads away to the kitchen, where the sounds and smells of Wooyoung's cooking are wafting out to the rest of the cabin.

Hongjoong does his best to relax. The couch is comfortable, the blanket warm and soft, the room filled with the scents of his pack. But his shoulders are tensing again, his whole body tightly wound, ready to spring into action at any moment, and his alpha chanting loud and insistent SeonghwaSeonghwaSeonghwa omegaomegaomega.

The food Yunho brings him helps a little. It's sudubu jjigae—one of Wooyoung's specialties—and the familiar taste and warmth are comforting, perfect as the snowstorm rages on outside. It's nearly white-out conditions out there, and Hongjoong is simultaneously grateful they didn't try to get home and on edge with the knowledge that whatever happens, they'll be stuck up on top of the mountain for the foreseeable future.

Even though he's not usually a big eater, he finishes every bite of the stew and rice, and he has to admit his head feels clearer now that he's eaten a proper meal. It reminds him of all the times Seonghwa stopped by his studio with lunch or dinner, knowing how Hongjoong tended to get wrapped up in a project and forget to eat. His heart jumps in his chest, like it wants to leap right out and run to Seonghwa.

Yeosang and Jongho come to check on him—Hongjoong suspects at Yunho's behest after feeling Hongjoong's growing restlessness through the bond. They sit on either side of him on the couch. He's essentially trapped between them, he realizes, ensuring he stays put, but it's hard to mind when they're both so warm, and their scents are surrounding him in a soothing embrace. Between Jongho's coffee and marshmallow and Yeosang's dark chocolate and cherry, it's like being in a cozy cafe.

Jongho isn't the most physically expressive, but he's a warm and solid presence, and he reaches out through the bond with reassurances that his pack is here for him, that everything will be okay.

On his other side, Yeosang leans into him and rests his head on Hongjoong's shoulder. It's technically a show of submission—an alpha baring their neck and scent gland—but between them, it's more a display of trust. 

"We finished the kit," Yeosang says, keeping his voice soft to not disturb this moment of peace. "We found everything Seonghwa might need."

"I went in the room to drop it off," Jongho says. "He's okay. The omegas are taking good care of him."

Hongjoong nods in silent thanks and sends a pulse of gratitude out through the bond to Yeosang and Jongho, and to the rest of them as well. He feels them all acknowledge it and respond. We're a pack; we take care of each other.

Not long after, Mingi and San come downstairs. They smell so strongly of Seonghwa it makes Hongjoong's head spin.

He sits up, instantly alert. "How is he?"

"He's fine," Mingi says. He holds his hands up as if to stop Hongjoong from bolting upstairs, which, to be fair, he feels ready to do.

"He ate some and then wanted to cuddle for a while and then took some painkillers and the heating pad," San says. "I don't think his full-blown heat will hit until later, tonight or tomorrow morning."

"And he's asking for you," Mingi says.

Hongjoong is grateful for the update, but wishes they'd led with that. It takes all his self-control not to bolt, take the stairs two at a time, and knock the door down to get to Seonghwa.

He takes a moment to thank San and Mingi, pulling them into hugs and scenting them.

The endless loop of worries halts for a moment. He's not wondering what to do or what to say when he sees Seonghwa; all he's thinking about is getting to his omega as soon as possible.

He pauses outside the bedroom door, knocks just in case, his hand hovering over the doorknob.

"Come in," Seonghwa's soft voice floats through the door, and Hongjoong is opening it before he's even finished the second word.

The bedroom has been transformed into a cozy den. The blackout curtains are pulled, leaving just a small slice of the snowy evergreen landscape visible.

The craftsman-style bedside lamps are on, casting the bed in two inviting pools of amber light. The bed itself has become a makeshift nest, blankets and pillows rearranged. Mingi and San's scents linger in the room, but it's Seonghwa's scent that dominates it, rich and thick enough to taste. Hongjoong clenches his jaw and his mouth floods with saliva, his canines suddenly itching.

"How are you doing?" Hongjoong asks. He approaches the bed slowly, respectfully. Seonghwa is curled up in the middle, a pillow hugged to his chest. When he looks up at Hongjoong, his eyes so wide and wet, reflecting the warm glow of the lamps, it makes Hongjoong's heart ache fiercely. He absentmindedly rubs his chest, like it's a sore muscle he can soothe.

Before Seonghwa can answer in words, Hongjoong feels it through the bond. He gasps softly. Seonghwa's presence in the bond is so much stronger, so bright and so very him.

HongjoongAlphaNeed.

"Can I come in?" Hongjoong asks. He doesn't know why he's speaking in a whisper; it just feels appropriate. He indicates to the nest, and Seonghwa nods vehemently, squirming to one side to make room for Hongjoong in his circle of blankets.

He settles in, and immediately Seonghwa plasters himself to Hongjoong's side and buries his nose in his shoulder, inhaling deeply. A soft trill of contentment sounds in his chest.

Hongjoong reciprocates, nuzzles into Seonghwa's soft hair, inhaling his scent while sending out a wave of his own and a message of comfort and reassurance through the bond.

Seonghwa, just as Hongjoong had, gasps. He looks into Hongjoong's face, eyes wide in an expression of wonder.

"I can feel you," he says, his voice quavering slightly.

Hongjoong smiles softly and cards his fingers through the hair at Seonghwa's nape. "I know. I can feel you, too."

Tears flood Seonghwa's eyes. They pool at the waterline, glimmering, then slip down his flushed cheeks when he blinks. He even cries beautifully; it's unfair.

"I wanted to for so long," Seonghwa says. His voice is hushed as well, and half-choked with tears. "I couldn't imagine what it was like. I tried, but…" He trails off and stares into Hongjoong's face with that look of wonder.

Hongjoong knows how he feels. It's hard to remember what it was like when they first officially sealed themselves as a pack and he became their alpha, but he remembers the intensity of the emotion flooding every inch of him. It's something impossible to put into words.

He holds Seonghwa's gaze, doesn't shy away from the vulnerability of the moment, and opens the bond wide so Seonghwa can feel all of it—the care, the happiness, the concern, the affection, the commitment.

Seonghwa's lashes flutter slightly. His slack-jawed expression transforms to one of joy, a smile slowly taking over his face, like the light of the morning sun slowly peeking above the horizon.

He sends back his own feelings and messages through the bond. They're huge, too many for Hongjoong to parse, but he can sense the overwhelming joy there, the excitement, and a tinge of anxiety as well.

"I could feel the others too, but you're so much stronger," Seonghwa says.

Hongjoong tries to tamp down on the flood of feelings just a bit, not wanting to overwhelm Seonghwa. It's enough to be dealing with the emotional weight of presenting and pre-heat; he doesn't need all of Hongjoong's feelings running around his head too.

"Sorry," he says, rubbing the back of Seonghwa's neck, where his muscles are hard and tight, and his skin is dewy with sweat. "It's because I'm the pack alpha; my presence is extra strong."

"Don't be sorry. I like it," Seonghwa says. Through the bond, Hongjoong feels a bolt of unbridled joy and pleasure, his newly present omega reacting to the presence of its alpha.

His pack alpha, or his alpha, Hongjoong can't help but wonder. But that's a discussion for another time, when Seonghwa's mind isn't cloudy from pre-heat.

There is a conversation Hongjoong can't put off any longer, though.

He clears his throat, more to buy himself a moment than to get Seonghwa's attention.

"Have you thought about– When your heat starts, I mean, do you know what– who you want to…?" He's been worrying over this question for hours, yet still can't string it into a simple sentence.

Seonghwa understands, though, and answers with zero hesitation: "You."

Hongjoong's stomach gives a wild swoop, like he'd been teetering at the top of the roller coaster and Seonghwa's answer pushed him down the steep drop.

Part of him knows he shouldn't be surprised—the assurances from the rest of the pack, the fact that were the roles reversed, Seonghwa would be his first thought—but another part of him can't help but be.

"Are you sure?" he asks, then winces a bit because of how that sounds. Like he might not be sure, like he wants Seonghwa to make a different decision.

There are a lot of things he's unsure about, but he could never be unsure about Seonghwa.

"I just mean," he quickly adds, seeing the way Seonghwa's brow wrinkles and his smile droops, "are you sure you're comfortable with that? It won't make things weird?"

"Hongjoong, you're my alpha." Not the alpha, not our alpha, my alpha. "You're the only one I'd want helping me through my first heat."

"But there's Yeosang. He just helped San; he'd be ready. Or Wooyoung, you two are so close. Or the omegas, if you want some insight from that side, y'know, or the betas, maybe that would be best, easing into it?"

Hongjoong knows he's babbling—something he seems to do a lot around Seonghwa lately—but he has to be sure. Guilt and doubt gnaw at the back of his mind, that insidious thought that he's somehow trapped Seonghwa into this before he can understand the full weight of it.

Seonghwa doesn't look thoughtful or like he's second-guessing. He lets Hongjoong finish and watches with an expression of mild amusement.

Finally, he takes Hongjoong's face in his hands. His skin is warm, his touch grounding, and Hongjoong stills and goes quiet.

"The others have already been a big help and comfort, but when it hits, I want you here with me. Please." His voice has that same determined set it gets when he's telling Hongjoong it's time to take a much-needed break or that he should be at their weekly pack dinner like he promised. No room for argument. The "what Seonghwa wants, Seonghwa gets" voice. Though, of course, he doesn't know the others have coined it that to tease Hongjoong.

"Okay," Hongjoong says, placing his hands over Seonghwa's, rubbing soothing circles into Seonghwa's skin with his thumbs. "I promise."

The burst of relief and joy Hongjoong feels from Seonghwa through the bond is like a firework popping behind his eyes.

"Thank you," he says softly.

There's a lump the size of a fist in Hongjoong's throat, and all he can do is nod. Seonghwa hums and cuddles closer, bumping his head up beneath Hongjoong's chin like an affectionate cat.

The runaway train of questions threatens to start up again, but Hongjoong forces it down and focuses on the here and now, not wanting his anxieties to poison the atmosphere.

He focuses on Seonghwa, warm and solid in his arms, on his scent filling his nose. It's been present for only a day, but already it feels familiar.

He feels Seonghwa relax and hears his breathing slow, then feels him jerk back to attention. It happens twice more before Hongjoong rubs his back and tells him he can rest; he needs it.

"I feel bad, like I'm taking the trip away from everyone," Seonghwa says. "They're not upset, are they? We've barely done any of our traditions."

"Are you kidding? This is the most exciting thing that's ever happened on this trip," Hongjoong says. His chest glows triumphantly when Seonghwa laughs.

"What about the time the sugar cookies somehow caught on fire and we nearly burned down Yeosang's family's kitchen?" Seonghwa says.

Hongjoong barks a laugh and shakes his head. That was the last time he'd been allowed to take an active role in the kitchen. "I think I blocked that one out."

"Or what about the time we saw that family of deer on the hike and Yeosang got one to eat out of his hand?" Seonghwa continues, warmth suffusing his voice as he recalls their past trips.

Hongjoong remembers that morning, the usually rowdy pack standing stock still and silent for minutes on end as the deer got closer and closer. The way they'd all bit their lips to keep from squealing in excitement when the deer took the apple slices from Yeosang's hand, and how they'd all huddled together in the cold, keeping each other warm while they watched the little family until they disappeared among the trees.

"Think of all the stories we'll have to tell next year," Hongjoong says. It's funny how, when it comes to caring for Seonghwa, he's able to put the situation in perspective in a way he never could have for himself.

He sends a rush of gratitude through the bond, a silent What would I do without you?

In a more serious tone, he adds, "You've spent every one of these trips making sure we all have a good time. Let us take care of you this time."

He can feel it through the bond—the weight that lifts from Seonghwa's shoulders, like it was a physical burden he was carrying. He sighs and goes boneless in Hongjoong's arms.

Seonghwa falls asleep first, and Hongjoong is glad to see him resting.

For a while, he watches Seonghwa sleep in a way he's never been able to before. For over an hour, he gazes at his face, runs fingers through his silky hair. When his brow furrows, some ache reaching him through sleep, Hongjoong smooths it with his thumb and sends out comforting waves of his scent until Seonghwa's expression relaxes back to one of peaceful rest.

Eventually, Hongjoong's eyelids begin to feel heavy. His alpha is settled now that he's close to Seonghwa and prepared to help him through his heat, and that lets him relax, too.

With Seonghwa warm in his arms, Seonghwa's scent filling his nose, and the world blanketed in quiet from the snow, he allows his eyes to close, allows himself to rest, for now.

❄️

The first thing Hongjoong is aware of next is the heat. It's stiffling, even with the fan and the windows still cracked.

Then he's aware of Seonghwa, awake now, and pressed tightly to his side, his hands curled in Hongjoong's shirt.

"Alpha," he whimpers.

Both Hongjoong and his alpha snap to attention then, instantly fully awake.

Seonghwa, it's clear, is in full-blown heat now. His entire face is flushed red, shining with sweat, and his skin is burning hot, each place his body touches Hongjoong's sweltering, even through Hongjoong's clothes.

He seems half out of it, but when he registers that Hongjoong is awake, he whines with wordless need and his scent blooms even more potent. Hongjoong has been around for dozens upon dozens of his packmates' heats, was there for San's first, but he's never seen one so intense before.

Despite all the assurances and pleas, he can't help but hesitate for one more moment. You're a pack alpha helping his omega, he tells himself. Don't overthink it.

As if he's ever capable of not overthinking when it comes to Seonghwa.

"Hongjoong, please," Seonghwa says, his desperation cutting through Hongjoong's inner turmoil.

His skin is fever-hot and damp, his bangs clinging to his sweaty forehead. Hongjoong smooths them away and presses a kiss to his hairline.

Seonghwa's body goes limp and he buries his nose against Hongjoong's neck, inhaling deeply. A soft purr sounds in his chest. "Alpha," he says again.

"Tell me what you need, Hwa," he says softly.

"You," Seonghwa says. "Need you."

Through the bond, Hongjoong feels what runs beneath the request. Alpha, touch, knot.

"You have me," Hongjoong replies soothingly. His scent rolls off of him in muted waves. He's keeping a leash on it while he still can, not wanting to overwhelm Seonghwa.

For a bit Seonghwa simply basks in the closeness, burrowing against his alpha and inhaling his scent deeply.

"It's so much stronger now. I could smell you before, but now I can feel it too," he murmurs. He squirms, thigh tensing and pressing together. "You smell so good."

"So do you," Hongjoong says. Slowly, he maneuvers them so he can duck his head and press his nose to Seonghwa's neck, rubbing to scent him and inhaling the intoxicating smell, rich jasmine and vanilla. It's incredible, fills him with a warmth that settles in his belly like a shot of whiskey. He wants to smell it all the time, wants Seonghwa's scent all over his sheets, his pillows, his clothes, with him always. If he's not careful, he thinks, it could send him into an early rut. His alpha hindbrain growls, pleased with the idea—an alpha's rut and their omega's heat syncing is an intense experience—but Hongjoong tamps the urge down. He needs to be in control of himself for this.

The contentment doesn't last for long. An intense wave hits Seonghwa, making him gasp and curl in on himself. He trembles against Hongjoong's side, and a fresh burst of his scent is released, extra sweet because it's not coming just from his scent gland now, but from between his legs too, where his slick is soaking through his panties.

With his nose pressed against Seonghwa's neck, the scent hits Hongjoong extra hard and he groans softly, lashes fluttering, hands tightening where they hold Seonghwa's waist.

"Why are you still wearing clothes?" Seonghwa whines. Hongjoong can't see his face, but he can imagine it so clearly, his lips pushed out in a pout and his brows pinched tight. He smiles and leaves the softest kiss on his scent gland, just a brush of his lips.

Seonghwa hands paw clumsily at his clothes, no clear objective other than off. Hongjoong gently takes over, pulling his t-shirt over his head and shimmying out of his sweats.

Seonghwa's pupils are blown wide, like a cat about to pounce, as he takes in Hongjoong's body.

Hongjoong may not be very big, but he's solid, sturdy. Seonghwa's hands find his chest and caress the curve of his pecs then squeeze, drawing a surprised noise from Hongjoong. It's half a sound of pleasure, half laughter.

"You've seen me shirtless before," he teases, though he knows, of course, this is different.

"It didn't feel like this," Seonghwa says. He sounds dazed and breathless. He's slipping deeper and deeper into the throes of his heat.

But Hongjoong knows what he means. With Seonghwa presented, this new bond between them, it's not just him seeing Hongjoong shirtless. It's an omega seeing his alpha, touching his alpha, feeling the way he desires his alpha and his alpha desires him, want passing back and forth through the bond. And everything even more heightened because he's in heat.

They did everything they could to keep the room cool for Seonghwa, but still sweat prickles on Hongjoong's spine from the heat radiating from Seonghwa's skin and from his own arousal stirring, making him flush from head to toe.

Without warning, Seonghwa replaces his hands with his lips. Hongjoong inhales sharply and goes stock still, like he's trying not to provoke a wild animal.

"I won't bite, Joongie," Seonghwa giggles, his hot breath fanning Hongjoong's collarbone. He brushes his lips over the curve of Hongjoong's chest, presses a few soft, experimental kisses there, then, flicking his gaze up to Hongjoong's face, ghosts his soft lips over Hongjoong's nipple. "Unless you want me to?"

Hongjoong exhales a shaky laugh. "You can, if you want," he says truthfully. He doesn't mind the idea at all. He likes it a lot, actually. He thinks he'd like just about anything Seonghwa wants to do with him.

Seonghwa looks a bit taken aback by the honesty. His eyes bounce back and forth between Hongjoong's eyes and chest a few times before he gives in to what he clearly wants to do and bites the swell of Hongjoong's chest. Gentle, but firm, drawing another gasp from Hongjoong, this one all pleasure.

Seemingly satisfied, Seonghwa giggles and kisses the shallow pink indents his teeth left behind. He continues his path down Hongjoong's body, not biting again, but leaving plenty of feather-light kisses and even a few licks, the tip of his tongue tracing the V-line of Hongjoong's abdomen to the waistband of his underwear.

His eyes are almost all pupil now as he stares at the now obvious bulge in Hongjoong's underwear. He presses his face there, nuzzling, running his nose along the line of Hongjoong's cock and inhaling, then releasing a shuddery moan.

"Alpha," Seonghwa mumbles. His jaw is slack and he mouths against the bulge, wetting the fabric with his saliva and his humid breath. "Alpha smells so good, tastes so good. Need it so bad."

Hongjoong is fully rigid now, straining against the fabric, twitching under the hot press of Seonghwa's mouth.

And who is he to deny his omega?

"I'm going to take these off, okay?" he says, hooking his thumbs into his waistband. His voice is taut with his own need.

Seonghwa nods eagerly. His eyes are wide and bright, glassy from the intensity of his heat.

Hongjoong raises his hips and shoves his underwear down. Once they're around his thighs Seonghwa takes over, tugs them the rest of the way off and tosses them away without looking, gaze fixed hungrily on Hongjoong's cock now free and bobbing hard against his stomach.

"You don't have to," Hongjoong says. The sight of Seonghwa there between his legs, cheeks flushed, mouth wet and parted, is making it hard to think straight. "I mean, it's your heat. I want to take care of you."

Seonghwa answers by wrapping a hand around the base of Hongjoong's cock and pressing his lips to the head. Hot and wet and plush, puckered in a kiss, the tip of Hongjoong's cock resting against the curve of the pillowy lower lip. Then Seonghwa parts them and takes him into his mouth.

The moment his tongue meets Hongjoong's flesh he moans and his lashes flutter.

Hongjoong curses under his breath, one hand fisting into the bedsheet. The sight of Seonghwa—eyes wide and shining in the low light as he gazes up at Hongjoong, soft hair framing his face, plump pink lips wrapped around his cock—is almost too much for Hongjoong. He doesn't know how he's going to survive the rest of the night.

Just saying it feels good would be an understatement. It feels incredible. Seonghwa is incredible. In no time at all he's taken Hongjoong down to the base, lips sealed tight, cheeks hollowed, bobbing his head with expert timing. Through the fog of pleasure, Hongjoong wonders how he got so good at this. With who? But the thought comes and goes, a quick flash of possessiveness, and then he's focused back on the present. It doesn't really matter, because Seonghwa is here now. It's Seonghwa he's doing this with, Seonghwa who's moaning like sucking Hongjoong's cock is bringing him endless pleasure.

"So good," Hongjoong groans. He's not thinking anything of it, but then he feels a spike of pleasure through the bond, sees Seonghwa's lashes flutter.

He reaches down and cups the back of Seonghwa's head, rubs his hair. "So good for me, Seonghwa. Doing so well for your alpha."

That gets a loud moan from Seonghwa, the vibration of it making Hongjoong moan as well. He twitches and leaks onto Seonghwa's tongue.

His knot is already beginning to swell, but Seonghwa is undeterred. He mouths around it, exploring, and traces the shape of it with his tongue, then pulls off slightly to stroke it while his tongue caresses the head of his cock.

"Shit, Seonghwa," Hongjoong moans through clenched teeth. They've barely begun and Hongjoong is so close to fully popping his knot. He knows they need to slow down, but it's so hard to think with Seonghwa's touch and Seonghwa's mouth and Seonghwa's scent.

Seonghwa pulls off, his long, dexterous fingers still caressing Hongjoong's knot. "If I make you cum, can you keep going?" he asks, tilting his head. He looks far too cute given the position they're currently in and the question he's asking.

Hongjoong nods, near frantic. Whatever happens, all he knows is he doesn't want Seonghwa to stop. "Yeah, I can." His stamina is a point of pride for him—an important thing for a pack alpha to possess.

Seonghwa hums, seemingly pleased with the answer, and again takes Hongjoong into his mouth with zero warning.

Hongjoong's hips snap up of their own accord, Seonghwa making a surprised, choked-off sound.

"Sorry, sorry," Hongjoong says quickly.

Seonghwa pulls off and licks his lips. They're plumper than usual, swollen from use, and shiny with spit. "It's okay," he says, "you can fuck my mouth—I want you to. I want alpha to feel good."

Jesus.

Hongjoong's head is spinning. He's half convinced this is all some dream and he'll wake up in his studio, back sore and head aching, the trip still a day away. In his most private moments, fantasies he so rarely let himself indulge in, he may have imagined something like that coming out of Seonghwa's mouth.

Actually seeing and hearing it is completely different.

"Yeah?" he asks, struggling to catch his breath.

Seonghwa nods and then honest to god nuzzles Hongjoong's cock, rubbing it against his cheek. His eyelids are heavy, cheeks scorching red.

It's what his omega wants. Hongjoong can feel it through the bond, the way Seonghwa's heat-controlled mind is desperate to please his alpha.

"Okay," Hongjoong says.

He's barely gotten the word out before Seonghwa swallows him down again. Tendons bulge in Hongjoong's neck and hands as his entire body clenches with the sudden onslaught of sensation.

Seonghwa stills, and Hongjoong has a moment to get his bearings. He looks down to see Seonghwa looking up at him, expectant, eyes wide and shining.

"Relax for me," Hongjoong says, smoothing a hand over Seonghwa's hair.

He sees Seonghwa go pliant, feels him relax his throat and his jaw, and senses through the bond the wave of submission, a silent go-ahead.

Hongjoong curls his fingers loosely in Seonghwa's hair. Not too tight, not enough to hurt, just enough to hold Seonghwa in place as he begins thrusting up into his mouth.

Seonghwa's reaction is instant and intoxicating. His scent blooms forth, musky with his arousal, and he moans loudly. He takes it so well, his throat clicking wetly each time Hongjoong's cock breaches it.

Hongjoong is mesmerized. He watches with his mouth hanging slack, breathing hard, murmuring thoughtless praises to Seonghwa.

"'m close, Hwa," he warns. He slows his movement just a bit, but then Seonghwa whines and looks up at him with those round, pleading eyes. Hongjoong can feel his desperation through the bond. He wants—needs—Hongjoong not to stop.

Hongjoong speeds up his thrusts again, gripping Seonghwa's hair a bit tighter, and Seonghwa's eyelids droop. His head is empty of everything but pleasing his alpha and how much pleasure that brings him.

He squirms, hips rocking mindlessly, thighs clenching.

Hongjoong feels his control slipping as his mind narrows to the pleasure coiling tight in his gut and the sight and feeling of Seonghwa's mouth on him. His thrusts grow rougher, his grip on Seonghwa's hair tighter.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck," he grits out through clenched teeth, then throws his head back with a loud, wordless groan as his hips snap forward and he cums buried deep in Seonghwa's throat.

Through the mind-whiting pleasure, he realizes he's fully popped a knot. Just from having his cock sucked. That's a first for him.

He laughs breathlessly at the realization. Pleasure sings under his skin, little tremors traveling up and down his legs.

He'd feel a little guilty about having possibly the best orgasm of his life while he's supposed to be helping an omega with their heat if it weren't for Seonghwa's own pleasure at having brought him there that he can feel shining bright and satisfied through the bond.

Then, rather than pull away, Seonghwa sinks down further.

Hongjoong's head snaps up, taking in the sight of Seonghwa, brow furrowed with his determination, slowly taking more of Hongjoong into his mouth, his lips stretching wide around Hongjoong's fully formed knot.

Hongjoong stammers something barely coherent about Seonghwa not having to, but he doesn't put much effort into it, partly because he can tell Seonghwa wants this, and partly because his brain is leaking out of his ears at this point.

He can only watch in awe, more turned on than he's ever been in his life, as Seonghwa takes him fully. His mouth is stuffed obscenely full with Hongjoong's knot. The feeling of having his knot buried inside triggers Hongjoong's instincts and he's cumming again, his inner alpha driven to breed.

Seonghwa swallows down what he can, but there's a lot—there always is, Hongjoong being a pack alpha. His body wants to be sure it breeds his omega properly.

Seonghwa does well, taking it with a garbled moan, but soon it's too much, too fast, and dribbles of milky white leak from the stretched corners of his lips. Along with the tears in his eyes from having his throat stuffed so full and the mess Hongjoong made of his hair, he looks debauched. The sight sends another wave of pleasure through Hongjoong, his cock twitching where it rests in Seonghwa's throat.

Finally, Hongjoong is spent. He lies back, limp and breathless, panting and staring sightlessly at the woodbeam ceiling. Once he's got his bearings back he lifts his head and threads his fingers through Seonghwa's hair to gently lift him from his cock.

His knot pops free and then Seonghwa's mouth is left hanging slack, saliva and cum dripping from his tongue down his chin and onto Hongjoong's lap. He pays no mind to the mess, all his focus on Hongjoong. He licks his lips and asks, "Was that good, alpha?" and looks at Hongjoong with his eyes round and shining, eager for praise.

Hongjoong nods. "So good, Hwa," he says. He wipes Seonghwa's chin clean with the back of his hand, then can't resist running his thumb over his soft, plump lower lip. "You're such a good omega for me."

Seonghwa visibly melts at that. He practically collapses on top of Hongjoong, knocking a small "oof" from him that's quickly muffled by Seonghwa's lips on his.

Of all they've done so far, this is the thing that makes Hongjoong's mind screech to a complete halt and his heart race so fast it's almost painful. He was so focused on the logistics of helping Seonghwa through his heat, he hadn't thought about the simple act of kissing Seonghwa, hadn't considered what that might feel like.

It feels like summer, spiting the winter storm raging just outside. It feels like the sun bright and warm against his face, endless days of heat and pleasure. Fireworks against a dark sky, so close they dazzle his eyes, and he can feel the pop and boom reverberate in his chest.

Hunger yawns wide open inside him. The tether he was keeping on his alpha snaps and he grabs the back of Seonghwa's head, his other arm wrapping around Seonghwa's waist, reeling him in even closer, tilting his head at a better angle to kiss him deeper. His tongue slides past Seonghwa's lips, and the taste of himself in Seonghwa's mouth sends a pleased, possessive shiver zipping up his spine.

Like this, Hongjoong can easily flip their positions. He turns Seonghwa onto his back, propping himself up above him on one elbow, his other hand sliding over the curve of his waist to his hip, fingers toying with the elastic band of his panties. He runs a finger tip along them to the little red bow at the front, like Seonghwa is a holiday gift just for Hongjoong to unwrap.

"Can I take these off?" he mumbles against Seonghwa's lips.

Seonghwa nods frantically, already lifting his hips to give him room.

Slowly, reverently, Hongjoong slides the panties down Seonghwa's gorgeous legs, following with his mouth and pressing worshipful kisses to the smooth, golden skin. He's long thought Seonghwa is the most beautiful person in the world, every inch of him a work of art that deserves to be appreciated. It's dizzying to get to be the one to do the appreciating. He wanted to be. He hoped, somewhere he kept buried deep. It protected his heart—and maybe Seonghwa's too, at least that was what Hongjoong told himself—but it means he's unprepared for the reality now. His hands are shaking as they slide along the silken, toned insides of Seonghwa's thighs, gently urging them apart.

Between them Seonghwa is flushed and wet and swollen. His clit is visible, a dusky dark pink and stiff with need, and Hongjoong can't resist running his tongue over it. The sweet taste of Seonghwa's slick on his tongue is the best thing he's ever tasted.

Seonghwa yelps in surprise, his body going taut all over as if he's just been shocked.

"Oh, alpha," he exhales in a shaky moan when Hongjoong does it again. And again and again, broad, flat swipes of his tongue that have Seonghwa's thighs shaking on either side of his head. He knows the most effective way of easing an omega's heat is penetration. An alpha's knot is what Seonghwa's omega craves most right now. But Hongjoong can't resist the opportunity to please Seonghwa in every way possible, to feel and taste him on his tongue.

He tastes divine, sweeter than his heady scent, the vanilla coming through the most, with a hint of something floral. Hongjoong slides his tongue through Seonghwa's folds and pushes it inside for a better taste.

Seonghwa cries out, such a beautiful sound, and his back bows up from the bed. He's hot and velvet soft around Hongjoong's tongue, clenching around the intrusion. Hongjoong groans against him at the thought of feeling this sensation around his cock soon.

He moves his tongue in precise, quick thrusts, curling it to stroke the tip along Seonghwa's upper wall, seeking that sweet spot and knowing he found it when Seonghwa gasps and leaks a heavy wave of slick onto Hongjoong's mouth. Hongjoong's skin is wet from his cheeks to his chin, and he loves it. The smell of Seonghwa—his omega—is everywhere, the taste of him coating Hongjoong's mouth.

While he works his tongue, he rubs the stiff bud of Seonghwa's clit in firm circles with the pad of his thumb.

Seonghwa's moans jump out of him in desperate little gasps, his hands clenching tighter and tighter in the rumpled bedsheets.

"Alpha," he says between moans, "'m gonna cum, gonna cum!"

Hongjoong hums against him and sends a wave of encouragement through the bond. Cum for me, my omega.

Seonghwa does, hard, clenching and pulsing around Hongjoong's tongue, gushing a wave of slick onto his mouth.

Hongjoong pulls away to raise his head and fully take in the sight of Seonghwa falling apart for him. He's beautiful, of course. His cheeks are flushed rose, his lips bitten and wet, his eyes shaded darker with lust and gazing down at Hongjoong with unguarded need.

Hongjoong licks his lips, tasting Seonghwa's slick there.

"Good?" It's his turn to ask, and Seonghwa nods.

Rather than easing Seonghwa's heat, the orgasm seems to have made him even needier. Hongjoong can feel it through the bond, and beneath him Seonghwa squirms and spreads his legs wider.

He's a vision of temptation—glistening golden skin and dripping wet pussy and heavy bedroom eyes.

"Please," he says. Just one word, but it hits Hongjoong like a sledgehammer. His alpha is howling with the need to answer his omega's plea, but he knows, even if Seonghwa were still unpresented, it would have the same effect.

"I'm here," Hongjoong says. His bergamot and woodsmoke scent is heavier with his arousal and his instinct to soothe Seonghwa, wrapping his scent around him like an invisible blanket.

"How do you want to do this?" he asks.

Seonghwa doesn't have to think for even a moment. He rolls over onto his front, getting onto his knees, leaving his chest pressed to the bed.

Hongjoong's knot has gone down but he's hard again, almost painfully so, aching and leaking as he watches Seonghwa arch his back and spread his thighs, presenting himself for his alpha. His thighs and the skin of his ass are coated in slick. Under Hongjoong's hungry gaze, his pussy clenches and leaks another wave, a long string of it dripping all the way down to the bed. Hongjoong's never seen an omega get so wet before and it's the hottest thing he's ever witnessed.

"Like this, please. Take me, alpha. Breed me, claim me," Seonghwa pleads. Every desperate word goes straight to Hongjoong's alpha brain and he growls, the sound making Seonghwa shiver and whimper.

He reaches between his thighs and spreads his pussy, exposing the slick inner folds, his fluttering entrance. Then he slips two fingers inside, the glide effortless with how wet he is. And now that's the hottest thing Hongjoong has ever witnessed—so far.

"Need you inside, alpha. I'm so empty," Seonghwa whines, his head turned so he can look up at Hongjoong, eyes pleading and brows drawn together. He pumps his fingers a few times with a lewd wet sound, moaning softly, then pulls them out.

Hongjoong curses under his breath. Who taught Seonghwa to talk like that, he wants to ask.

"I know, angel," he says, the pet name slipping out almost without him realizing. It feels so effortless. He shuffles onto his knees behind Seonghwa, a hand wrapped around the base of his cock. As he gets into position, Seonghwa spreads his thighs even wider, pushes his hips back further.

Any lingering worries Hongjoong had have long fled his mind now. All that matters is this, now. Seonghwa beneath him, wanting him, begging for him. Their scents heavy in the air, combining so perfectly, meant to be. The storm outside could go on forever, could bury the cabin completely, and it wouldn't matter, as long as he and Seonghwa were here together.

He settles a hand on Seonghwa's hip, holding him in place while his other hand holds his cock as he guides it through Seonghwa's silky wet folds, coating his cock in slick. A couple of times the head of his cock slips near Seonghwa's entrance, making him inhale sharply, but he doesn't push inside yet.

Seonghwa whines loudly, needy in a way that Hongjoong is finding is a huge turn on. Seonghwa, usually so put together, the first to take care of everyone else, a needy, helpless mess beneath him.

"I know," he soothes, rubbing his palm up and down the gorgeous curve of Seonghwa's back. "I've got you."

He flicks his wrist, giving his cock a few quick strokes to spread the slick coating his skin, then, finally, positions himself with the head pressed to Seonghwa's entrance. Slowly—holding himself back from the urge to slam inside all at once, to finally feel Seonghwa's hot cunt enveloping him—he presses forward until the head slips inside.

They moan in unison, soft, almost surprised sounds, like they can't believe how good it feels. How right. Hongjoong is shaking with the effort of going slow, sliding in gradually, filling Seonghwa deeper and deeper. His lashes flutter at the overwhelmingly incredible sensation of Seonghwa's pussy around him—hot, wet, tight but taking him so readily. When he's buried fully inside, his hips flush with Seonghwa's ass, his cock gives one hard twitch and spills a bit inside.

"Oh!" Seonghwa moans. It was barely anything, but it was enough for an omega in heat to sense.

And despite Hongjoong feeling like he's holding onto his control by the barest of threads, it's Seonghwa who snaps first. He starts rocking his hips, bouncing back on Hongjoong's cock, and crying out with pleasure.

Hongjoong curses and grabs tight to Seonghwa's hips, holding on while Seonghwa takes him for a ride.

It's undeniably hot to have Seonghwa like this, so needy for him that he's lost all sense. He moves his hips in an uneven rhythm, grips and tugs at the sheets, and whines out muffled, half-incoherent pleas to be fucked harder, deeper, to be filled and bred by alpha.

Hongjoong grips his hips a bit harder, forcing him to still. Seonghwa does instantly, though he's trembling a bit in Hongjoong's hold.

"Let me take care of you," Hongjoong says.

Seonghwa nods and goes pliant in Hongjoong's hands. Through the bond, Hongjoong feels his anticipation crackling. He's going to be sure not to disappoint.

He doesn't bother starting slow, building up. He pulls out nearly all the way and then slams back inside, hard and deep, using his hold on Seonghwa's hips to guide him. Then he sets a fast, rough pace, tugging Seonghwa back against each thrust.

It's incredible, indescribable, the feeling of Seonghwa around him. The sound of it—skin meeting skin, Seonghwa's soaking pussy, the moans and panting breaths. The intensity of each sensation doubled as they feel each other through the bond, experience each other's desire and pleasure.

Hongjoong knows he's a good pack alpha. He's good at taking care of an omega and seeing them through a heat. With Seonghwa, though, he feels brand new at it. He never knew it could be this intense. He's never felt his alpha so viscerally outside of a rut.

As he moves, he admires the sight of Seonghwa beneath him. The smooth, golden skin of his muscled back glows with a sheen of sweat. The arch of it makes the taper from his broad shoulders to his slim waist even more exaggerated, and Hongjoong can't resist sliding his hands from his hips to that waist, wrapping both around it and squeezing. He slides his gaze lower, over the curve of Seonghwa's tight, round ass, then to where they're connected. He groans seeing Seonghwa's cunt stretched around his cock, red and puffy, constantly leaking slick that clings to Hongjoong's skin and drips down Seonghwa's thighs.

"You're taking me so well, omega," he pants. "So good for your alpha." He thinks he'll never tire of praising Seonghwa, because he deserves it and because the response is beautiful, his pretty moans and the spike of pleasure Hongjoong feels through the bond.

"Wait," Seonghwa says breathlessly.

Hongjoong stills instantly. "Everything okay?" he asks urgently. "Tell me if it's too much."

Seonghwa breathes a laugh and shakes his head. He turns so he can look at Hongjoong, his eyes shining. There's amusement in them, and affection, maybe. "It's not," he says, "it's perfect. I just want to change positions—I want to see your face."

Hongjoong's heart stutters. "Yeah, of course," he manages to say. He focuses on the task at hand to keep himself from getting lost thinking what exactly this might mean. In the moment, it doesn't mean anything beyond what Seonghwa needs right now to get through this heat.

He pulls out slowly—a difficult task because Seonghwa's pussy is clamped tight around him, his omega not wanting to let his alpha go, not wanting to be empty. Hongjoong hisses through his teeth, the pleasure bordering on pain with the way Seonghwa's walls cling to him.

"Relax for me. It'll just be a second," Hongjoong says. He gently kneads Seonghwa's back, urging him to relax. He feels Seonghwa go limp beneath him, forcing his body to relax enough for Hongjoong to pull out. "Doing so good for me," Hongjoong says in a soothing tone, knowing Seonghwa's omega must be distraught at having his alpha pull away before he's knotted him, even though logically he knows he asked for it.

As quick as he can while still being gentle, Hongjoong turns Seonghwa onto his back and positions himself between his legs. He means to push back inside immediately so as not to leave his omega empty for too long, but the sight of Seonghwa draws him up short.

He's known Seonghwa for 10 years, seen him grow and change, gone through countless things—the good and the bad and the mundane of growing up—with him. He thought he knew everything there was to know about Seonghwa, but seeing him like this, it's something completely new. Hongjoong's entire world shifts in an instant, showing him Seonghwa from a new perspective that he never thought—or never let himself think—he'd have the privilege of seeing.

The long, elegant lines of his body; the silk-soft, golden skin glowing with the flush of arousal; the dark, depthless eyes filled with want and need and trust and care. And it's all for him. His to touch, kiss, feel, hear, taste. Maybe it will only be for the duration of Seonghwa's heat. Maybe he'll come out of this and regret it, not want things to change, spend the rest of his heats with other pack members. The thought is sour on Hongjoong's tongue, but he swallows it down and accepts it, because for now, he has Seonghwa here with him, and Seonghwa wants him, and Hongjoong is going to soak up every second of this gift he's been given.

"You're so beautiful," he says softly, his voice hoarse with emotion. He runs his hands reverently over Seonghwa's full chest, his toned stomach, down to his hips. He pulls Seonghwa closer by them so he's bracketed between his thighs and begins to push back inside, his eyes not leaving Seonghwa's face for a second.

Seonghwa's lashes flutter but he doesn't let his eyes close and holds Hongjoong's gaze. His legs come up to wrap around Hongjoong's waist and reel him in closer. Hongjoong goes easily. It feels inevitable, like gravity. He leans over Seonghwa, his hands on either side of his head, still not breaking eye contact.

He doesn't move yet. They stay suspended in the moment, eyes locked, close enough that their warm breath mingles and their noses brush. Hongjoong lowers himself further until their lips meet. Seonghwa's eyes drift shut as he melts into the kiss, his arms wrapping around Hongjoong as well, pulling him even closer by the shoulders.

Hongjoong kisses him deeply, thoroughly. Hungrily. Maybe he's being a little greedy, but he can't help himself. The way Seonghwa melts for him is incredible.

He starts to move again. A few slow, tantalizing rolls of his hips, then he's speeding up again, building up a fast, unrelenting rhythm.

Seonghwa's high-pitched moans are swallowed up in Hongjoong's kisses. Seonghwa is lost to the pleasure, barely able to return the kisses and mostly just taking them, his mouth slack, tongue limp. It's messy, drool on his chin, smearing between their mouths, all the way to their noses. Hongjoong pulls away a fraction because he needs some air and then they're panting hot and heavy into each other's mouths. Seonghwa's eyes are still open. He stares up at Hongjoong from beneath drooping lashes.

They've both gone quiet, nothing but labored breaths and low, deep moans. It's incredibly intense, incredibly intimate.

Through the bond, Hongjoong feels a constant hum of minemineminemine. He doesn't know if it's coming from him or Seonghwa or both of them. Either way, it fills Hongjoong with the desire to mark and claim. His canines itch and his thrusts get rougher, faster, like his alpha wants to mark Seonghwa inside and out, to fuck him and claim him so thoroughly that he'll be molded to the shape of Hongjoong's cock, made for him and only him.

He growls as his alpha takes control. Seonghwa must sense it because he gasps and moans and arches beneath Hongjoong, his eyes going wide and bright, shining like he's just made an incredible discovery.

"Oh—alpha!" he moans. He's not quiet anymore. He's moaning loud and high-pitched, crying out for his alpha with each of Hongjoong's wild thrusts.

The air around them is thick, humid with their body heat and panting breaths and desire-heavy scents. The bed beneath them is an absolute wreck, soaked with Seonghwa's slick and sweat. Droplets of it slide down his temples, one tracing a path along his jaw to his chin, where it trembles for a moment and then falls.

When Seonghwa's head tips back, his elegant neck bowing, Hongjoong can't resist dragging his tongue up the sweat-slick skin there, tasting the saltiness of it along with the sweetness of his scent.

"Who am I?" Hongjoong growls in Seonghwa's ear. He can feel Seonghwa's omega through the bond, but he wants to hear it again in Seonghwa's beautiful, debauched voice.

"Alpha! My alpha!" Seonghwa cries out, his voice breaking.

"That's right. Alpha's gonna take care of you. Gonna fill you up and knot you."

"Please!" Seonghwa sobs. A few tears slip down his cheeks.

Hongjoong's canines are aching now, but he has at least enough presence of mind left to not put a mating mark on Seonghwa. He redirects his attention to his gorgeous collarbone, biting down and sucking a lurid mark there. He pulls back, pleased with his work, his alpha rumbling, knowing tomorrow the mark will darken to an unmistakable bruise.

He leaves a trail of marks across Seonghwa's collar and chest, a tapestry of skin blooming red. It's not a claiming mark, but it's still a show of possession that at least temporarily soothes Hongjoong's alpha. He can feel Seonghwa's omega through the bond, glowing with satisfaction at being accepted and wanted as an omega.

Hongjoong's knot is swelling again, smacking against Seonghwa's cunt with filthy wet slaps and making Seonghwa cry out over and over. His nails dig deep into the skin of Hongjoong's back, leaving behind marks of his own.

On the next thrusts, Hongjoong's knot catches, locking them together for a moment before he's able to pull back out and a raw sound, nearly a scream, tears from Seonghwa's throat. His legs tighten around Hongjoong's waist.

He whines, a broken, needy sound that pierces Hongjoong's heart.

"I've got you," he says, nosing against Seonghwa's neck to scent him.

His words are soothing but his movements are rough, following his single-minded drive to please and breed his omega. He gets a firm grip on Seonghwa's thighs and unwinds them from around his waist, then presses the backs of his knees to push them toward the bed, bending Seonghwa in half beneath him.

The new angle allows him to fuck Seonghwa even deeper. Under him, Seonghwa is beautifully ruined, lost to the pleasure and his instincts. His head is thrown back, lashes fluttering, eyes rolling back in his head. His hands lay on either side of his head, gripping the sheets as if they're the only thing keeping him tethered.

Pleasure coils tight in Hongjoong's gut, ready to snap, and, through the bond, he can feel Seonghwa hurtling toward his own climax. It's overwhelming, the intensity of their pleasure combined, and he can only imagine how it must feel for Seonghwa.

He's gasping for air beneath Hongjoong, crying out with each thrust in a tone that sounds like prayer.

The wordless cries turn into cries of Hongjoong's name and alpha, and then Seonghwa is cumming. His back bows, his head snaps back against the mattress, and his mouth parts in a silent scream. His body quakes with the force of it, and his pussy clamps vice-like around Hongjoong's cock and gushes a spray of clear liquid onto Hongjoong's abdomen.

"Fuck, Hwa," Hongjoong groans. He slows his thrusts but doesn't stop, fucking Seonghwa through it. Each time his swollen knot bumps against Seonghwa's clit he squirts again. He throbs so hard around Hongjoong's cock it's making him see stars.

Then, finally, with one last thrust, Hongjoong fucks his knot inside and cums buried deep inside Seonghwa with an animal groan. He hunches over Seonghwa, shaking not just from the strength of his climax but also the visceral emotions crashing through him, whiting out all thought except of Seonghwa, his omega, and where they're locked together.

The urge to bite and claim Seonghwa is blinding, but Hongjoong has just enough presence of mind left to redirect it, clamping his teeth down hard around the pillow by Seonghwa's head. He bites down hard enough to pierce the fabric, so hard his jaw aches. It doesn't completely relieve the urge, but it's enough.

They stay like that for a while, breaths syncing as they slow. The intensity of the knotting is slowly replaced by a feeling of deep calm and contentment. That feeling of everything being so right. It's a warm glow they bask in together through the bond.

Now that his mind isn't running completely on instinct, it feels safe to release his bite and press his face into Seonghwa's neck instead. Warm and soft and perfect, they fit together so well. Hongjoong nuzzles right over his scent gland and feels the vibrations as Seonghwa begins to purr.

Hongjoong presses on soft, quick kiss to Seonghwa's scent gland then pulls away, raising his head to look at him. He looks thoroughly sated. His eyes are heavy with the kind of exhaustion that comes from bone-deep satisfaction and there's a small smile on his lips. He already looked better, no longer flushed fever-bright but emitting a healthy glow.

Gently, Hongjoong maneuvers them into a more comfortable position. He knows his knot isn't going down any time soon. He doesn't think Seonghwa will mind. His contented purr is a constant, rhythmic rumble in his chest. When Hongjoong gets them situated—both of them on their sides, facing one another, legs tangled, his arm slung around Seonghwa's waist—Seonghwa hums happily and melts into the blankets.

With their connection through the bond so present, the rest are quieter. Still there—always there—but subdued, so it really does feel as if he and Seonghwa are in a world all their own at the moment. The windows have fogged up completely, but he can see the shadows of snowflakes still coming down fast. The snow outside must be meters deep now, muffling the world like a thick blanket.

Hongjoong shivers a bit. With sweat cooling on his skin and Seonghwa's heat, at least for now, broken, he's beginning to feel the cold. Distrubing Seonghwa as little as possible, he reaches down and gropes half-blindly for the edge of the comforter that was shoved away and pulls it up over them, until only their heads remain uncovered.

Seonghwa smiles at him over the top of the bedding, his eyes shining. Since he began to be able to feel Seonghwa's emotions through the bond, he's sensed a snarled knot of feelings, not unlike the one he's been carrying in his own chest. But now, all he senses is happiness, all-encompassing.

He lets go of one last bit of tension he hadn't known he was still holding onto—the fear that, once Seonghwa's heat broke, regret would push its way in.

Seonghwa must feel it, because he makes a soft, questioning noise.

"Nothing," Hongjoong says, rubbing the small of Seonghwa's back. "I'm just happy. I'm happy you're happy."

Seonghwa's smile goes achingly tender. "I am. I'm very happy."

"Good," Hongjoong says and kisses the side of Seonghwa's nose.

Like the world outside of this room, time doesn't exist for them at the moment. Neither of them has any clue what time it is, but they let sleep pull them under for a few hours.

❄️

The next time Hongjoong wakes, the first thing he registers is the cold.

Even with their warm bodies entwined under the duvet, it's freezing.

His knot has gone down now, so he's able to slip out of Seonghwa. He moves carefully, slowly, and is able to disentangle himself and get out of bed with nothing more than a soft, sleepy sound from Seonghwa. He otherwise doesn't stir, just burrows deeper under the covers, seeking warmth in his sleep.

First, Hongjoong switches off the fan, plunging the room into silence. Sounds of outside leak into their sanctuary. The whisper of a wintry breeze setting pines swaying, branches creaking. From below, the sounds of the pack, subdued.

He then pads on silent bare feet over to the windows. He shivers and wishes he'd taken the time to get re-dressed first. The windows are cracked only a fraction, but the cold air slips in with knife-blade precision, cutting across his skin.

Outside the sky is still a uniform quilt of gray clouds, but it's light enough that Hongjoong can tell it's day. Snow is still coming down. It's steadier now, less a blizzard, but still enough to easily add another meter or two to the already accumulated snow.

Hongjoong stares out at the view, his mind whirring into gear. The cold air has snapped him back to reality quick, like plunging into an ice bath.

He remembers, with some embarrassment, how he was toward the end—the biting, the desperation. He looks over and sees the ruined pillow, feathers scattered across the mattress like fallen snow, and winces. Hopefully there are spare pillows somewhere they can replace that with so Yeosang doesn't have to come up with a way to explain it to his parents.

Still moving as quietly as possible, he goes back to the bedside and lays a gentle hand over Seonghwa's forehead. His skin is cool and dry to the touch. He's through with his heat, or at least the worst of it. It's not unusual for an omega's first heat to be intense but short-lived. That's one less thing Hongjoong has to stress about, at least—Seonghwa won't be stuck on top of a mountain going through a days-long ordeal.

It also leaves a lot of time for talking. Which is good. It's what they need.

Hongjoong does his best to ignore that itch he gets in the back of his mind he gets when there's something difficult he needs to confront. That urge to retreat to his studio and spend hours (or days) working through it in the safe confines of those acoustic-panelled walls.

Give him time alone in his studio, his computer, and his notebook, and he could pour all these tangled emotions into lyrics that would communicate them perfectly. But right now, trying to put it into simple words, he's drawing a blank.

He considers Seonghwa's sleeping form. Only his head peeks above the duvet. He looks adorable, deeply asleep, cheek squished against the pillow. He's still flushed, but it's the soft, rosy sort of flush of sleep, not fever-bright.

Hongjoong weighs the risk of leaving him alone for a moment to bring him food and decides he should take it. He can be fast, and Seonghwa is sure to be ravenous when he wakes up. He's ravenous after waking up from a normal nap, let alone after having just gone through his first heat.

He quickly gets dressed and takes the stairs two at a time.

Downstairs, the rest of the pack are occupying themselves in various ways. Yeosang, San, and Wooyoung have basically fused into one in the nest, curled up in front of the fire watching a drama—most likely selected by San—on Wooyoung's phone.

Their heads perk up in unison when they see Hongjoong. He doesn't have time to stop and explain everything, though. His alpha is already unsettled at being away from Seonghwa, and he can't stand the thought of Seonghwa waking up to him not being there.

"He's fine. I think it's broken now. He's sleeping; I'm gonna bring him up some food," he says quickly. He's sure they sense his urgency through the bond.

"I want all the details later!" Wooyoung calls after him as he heads for the kitchen. Hongjoong can hear the wicked grin on his face.

On the way to the kitchen, he passes Yunho and Jongho sat at the dining table, engrossed in some mobile game. They too perk up at Hongjoong's appearance, and he gives them the same quick rundown.

They nod in understanding.

"There's lots of leftovers," Yunho says. "There's still some of the sudubu jjigae Wooyoung made, and this morning he made French toast. And we made the cookies." The sugar cookies they make every year, part of their vacation traditions. Seonghwa will be glad to know they carried on the tradition without him, even if he will be a bit sad he couldn't join in this time.

Not sure what Seonghwa will be in the mood for, Hongjoong assembles a little of everything. He sets it all on a tray, doing his best to make the presentation look nice, and then very, very carefully carries the tray up to the third floor, the eyes of the rest of the pack anxiously trained on him to be sure he makes it.

It's warmer in the room when Hongjoong re-enters, but still dark and quiet. Seonghwa is still fast asleep, and Hongjoong lets out a little sigh of relief. He sets the tray aside so it's ready for Seonghwa when he wakes up and, again moving as slowly and carefully as he can, crawls back into bed.

Immediately, Seonghwa's body seeks his, settling against his chest and releasing a contented sigh when Hongjoong wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him closer.

Hongjoong's heart beats hard beneath Seonghwa's ear. He doesn't want to sleep anymore, wants to be awake for when Seonghwa wakes, but he couldn't have even if he wanted to. His thoughts race along with his heart, all the things he could—should—say to Seonghwa running through his head.

It's exciting and terrifying at once to contemplate what will happen next. They've never existed together as alpha and omega, outside of Seonghwa's heat. Whatever it means for their partnership, he hopes it's good. And he prepares himself for the possibility that Seonghwa won't want anything to change.

He doesn't know how much time he passes this way. The next thing he's aware of is Seonghwa stirring.

He raises his head with a soft "mm?", sleepy and slightly confused. He squints, blinking the lingering sleep from his eyes, then smiles when he sees Hongjoong. "Hi," he says, sitting up.

"Hi," Hongjoong says. He sits up as well, adjusts so they're sitting side by side, thighs pressed together.

They're suddenly shy around each other. Curious but unsure.

"I brought you food," Hongjoong says—the first thing that came to his mind. "I hope it hasn't gotten too cold." He scrambles out of bed to check, relieved to find it's all still warm, and brings the tray over to Seonghwa.

"Oh," Seonghwa blinks, then smiles and scoots back against the headboard, straightening out his legs so Hongjoong can lay the tray in his lap. "Thank you."

He wastes no time digging in. The need for conversation pauses for a couple of minutes as he samples every dish on the tray, humming with satisfaction, head falling back, eyes closing.

"I don't think I've ever been this hungry before," he says with a laugh, covering his mouth as he speaks around a big bite of French toast.

"I can get you more if you want," Hongjoong says.

Seonghwa shakes his head. "I'll go down to eat. I feel a lot better, and I want to see everyone."

"Sure, they'll love that," Hongjoong says. "So you feel okay? No more symptoms?"

"I feel great," Seonghwa says. "I feel…refreshed."

He shifts a bit and then winces and reaches to rub his lower back, letting out a slightly shy little laugh. "Well, maybe a little sore."

"I'm sorry. Was I too rough? Can I get you anything?"

"No, no," Seonghwa is quick to reassure Hongjoong. "You were perfect, Joongie, really. It was amazing." They both blush a bit at that, but Seonghwa plows on. "I talked to San about it, after he shifted. Asked him what it was like. He did his best to describe it, and he made it sound incredible, but nothing could've prepared me for what it was really like. So, thank you for helping me, and for making it so wonderful."

The look in Seonghwa's eyes as he says this, the deep sincerity, pierces Hongjoong's heart. He doesn't trust himself to speak, so he only nods.

Seonghwa's smile is like the sun breaking through winter clouds, chasing away the lingering cold.

"I do think I do need a bath. And we'll have to change the sheets," Seonghwa adds with another lighthearted wince.

"I'll take care of that," Hongjoong says.

He springs into action, gets the bath running—borderline scalding, the steam quickly filling the bathroom, and with bubbles, just how Seonghwa likes it—finds a pair of clean pajamas, hangs a robe on the bathroom door, and places slippers beneath them.

Seonghwa watches it all while he finishes eating, a little smile on his face the whole time. "Thank you, Joongie."

When he sets aside the tray and begins to get up, Hongjoong hurries to his side to help him. He doesn't know just how sore Seonghwa might be, but he does know they went pretty wild, and that he's certainly not on the small side.

Seonghwa does step gingerly on his way to the bathroom.

Hongjoong hovers at the bathroom door, watching Seonghwa climb into the tub. The moan of satisfaction he releases when he sinks into the hot water makes something stir in Hongjoong's gut.

"Do you need anything else?" he asks.

Seonghwa hesitates, glances over at Hongjoong. "Well…"

His eyes linger on Hongjoong for a moment, then he gives a small shake of his head and turns away, tips his head back to rest against the edge of the tub, eyes closed. "Nothing. I'm okay; this is perfect."

Hongjoong probes gently through the bond to see if he can get a sense of what Seonghwa's thinking, but all seems fine. He's placid, content, just an undercurrent of nerves, maybe from the way Hongjoong is hovering, his own emotions still running on high.

As hard as it is for him to pull away from one of his omegas right now, he does. With a promise from Seonghwa to tell him the second he needs anything, he takes the tray of now-empty dishes downstairs.

There's the expected bombardment of questions as soon as he gets downstairs and, once he's gotten the dishes cleaned, he sits down to finally properly satisfy their curiosity. Well, as much as he can. Wooyoung isn't totally satisfied, but there's no way Hongjoong is going to give him the second-by-second breakdown he wants, especially not sitting at the dining room table in Yeosang's parents' cabin.

It turns out he and Seonghwa slept most of the day, and it's nearing dinner time when Seonghwa comes down to join them.

At the sight of him, joy and excitement burst through the bond, warm and bright. Everyone wants to touch him, hug him, scent him.

"Oh, you smell amazing!" Yeosang exclains, his eyes wide, pupils blown. He nuzzles into Seonghwa's neck and stays there, rumbling happily, until Mingi pouts that he's hogging Seonghwa.

Seonghwa scents each and every one of them in return, taking his time, all of them standing perfectly still to let him indulge as long as he wants. Hongjoong sees the way his throat bobs as he swallows down tears, can feel his joy at finally being able to do this. It makes his own throat feel tight. He keeps his distance, allowing the others to have their time with him.

The atmosphere in the cabin is a stark contrast from what it was the night before. No more anxiety and worry clouding the air; now it's all joy and light. Everyone is bursting with energy, voices overlapping as they talk excitedly, barely pausing to actually eat their dinner. It takes nearly two hours to get through the meal.

Hongjoong is more subdued, happy for the moment to sit back and watch his pack and soak up their joy. His eyes slide to Seonghwa every few moments, unable to resist the pull. He's achingly beautiful like this, with his sated, post-heat glow, his face alight with joy.

After dinner, they move to the living room. They don't enter the nest immediately, standing back and waiting for Seonghwa to go first.

Seonghwa casts a confused look at each of them. "Is something wrong?"

"You go first," Yunho says, gesturing to the nest.

"We'll join when you're ready," Yeosang adds.

Seonghwa's eyes go all misty, and unbridled affection for his pack sings through the bond. The rest of them smile encouragingly at him. San sniffles and rests his head on Yeosang's shoulder.

Seonghwa takes his time settling into the nest. He presses his nose to various spots, breathing in their scents. Sometimes he pauses and tilts his head, nose wrinkling, then rearranges something and looks over to them for approval before moving on. His rich scent rolls off of him in waves, joining the rest of the scents permeating the nest. He's the picture of a happy omega. A purr starts up in his throat and continues the whole time he works.

When he's satisfied, he sits back and looks to the pack, opening his arms in a silent welcome.

It's a race to see who can hug him first. San and Wooyoung take it very seriously and end up bowling him over in their eagerness, the three of them ending up in a tangled heap.

There's a bit of an outcry, but eventually the rest of the pack diplomatically agrees to taking turns cuddling with Seonghwa, and everyone settles down.

No one cares about the time. They talk for hours. They ask Seonghwa questions, and Seonghwa asks his own, things he's been thinking about since he realized he was about to present. They reminisce too, on past trips and their time as a pack, how they first met.

The conversation tapers off little by little as the late hour catches up with them. Hongjoong makes the half-hearted suggestion they head to bed, but is immediately shot down. There's no way they're leaving each other's sides tonight. He's more than happy to agree.

They sleep there in the nest, all cuddled as close as physically possible.

❄️

The next day is all about catching up on traditions they missed. The snow has finally stopped falling, but it's piled meters high outside. They take turns shoveling the main drive, but a plow will have to be called in for the rest of it, which won't be able to reach them until the mountain roads are cleared.

Being snowed in seems a much less scary prospect now, though, that Seonghwa is out of the woods, so to speak. Now there's an air of excitement about it, like that of a sleepover or an overnight camp.

After they do the pancake breakfast they should have done the previous morning, Seonghwa commandeers the kitchen to make another batch of sugar cookies, which he then sets out on the dining room table, along with every cookie decorating ingredient under the sun, and they spend a good chunk of the afternoon decorating their cookies.

With the snow thigh-deep, they can't do anything outside, but there's still plenty left on the checklist to fill the day.

Hongjoong keeps a careful eye on Seonghwa, in case his heat isn't totally done, but he seems fine. Bright and energetic, spearheading all of the festivities with zeal.

Because there's so much to do, they jump almost non-stop from one activity to the next. It's fun, but it also leaves no time for him and Seonghwa to talk. Part of him is relieved to have a little more time. Another part of him is anxious—the longer it's put off, the longer he has to wonder. Maybe, he thinks as he watches Jongho set up the machine for their karaoke night tradition, Seonghwa doesn't think there's anything to talk about. Maybe it was a heat-of-the-moment thing, and now it's over with.

Occasionally, in the midst of all the happy chaos, their eyes find each other and linger. Their joy at spending time with their pack crackles like a warm fire in the bond. Their gazes hold, and there's something there, something coming to the surface in Seonghwa's deep, deep eyes, but then someone nudges him and asks him to pass the sprinkles, or another pack member demands Seonghwa's attention, or it's his turn for karaoke.

"Woo, go Joongie!" Seonghwa cheers, and Hongjoong sends him a little smile.

He doesn't get a very high score, but he doesn't really mind, and endures the pack's playful jeers like a good sport. His mind is still entirely on Seonghwa, replaying the cheer and the way Seonghwa smiled at him. It's a balm on his mind. A small, insidious part of his it—the part that is convinced he could never have anything more than what he already has with Seonghwa because Seonghwa is too good for him—has been needling him all day with thoughts of Seonghwa intentionally pulling away from him now, not wanting to encourage anything further.

After karaoke, they're all spent and have a much more subdued dinner, then make straight for bed. As nice as another night in the nest would be, they all need a good night's sleep on real mattresses.

When Hongjoong and Seonghwa arrive to their room, they're met with the ruined bed and the realization that they haven't yet changed to fresh sheets. Shame crawls hot up Hongjoong's neck as he remembers he promised to do it.

It's too late, and they're both too tired to go hunting down fresh linens.

"I'm sorry, this is totally my fault. I'll sleep on the couch," Hongjoong says quickly.

"Oh," Seonghwa blinks at Hongjoong, "Okay."

"You could take Yeosang's room. I think he's doubling up with Jongho tonight."

Seonghwa's face twists, his presence in the bond twisting up along with it, forming a tight knot. Before Hongjoong can parse it, it smooths out again, and Seonghwa nods. The corners of his lips pull taut in something that's almost a smile, but not quite.

"Sure, that works," he says.

They hover, uncertain, for a moment. Hongjoong's mind is practically screaming at him that now is the time. They're alone, one of the few chances they'll get to be until the trip is over, but then Seonghwa says, "Well, good night."

"Night," Hongjoong says back automatically, and then Seonghwa is leaving and going downstairs. Hongjoong follows after but hovers at the landing until he hears the click of Yeosang's bedroom door closing, then goes down to the couch.

He stays up late into the night, mentally kicking himself. Through the bond, he can feel that Seonghwa lies awake for a long time too. He wants to go to him, but his doubts keep him rooted to the couch, until eventually Seonghwa is asleep along with the rest of the pack.

❄️

"What is going on with you and Seonghwa?"

Hongjoong looks up to see Yeosang stepping through the sliding glass door, closing it behind him and standing in front of Hongjoong with his arms crossed against the cold. Despite the posture, he doesn't look angry. He tilts his head, looking at Hongjoong with sympathetic eyes.

Hongjoong is on the back porch, huddled in the little patch under the eaves where the snow isn't quite so deep, burning through a second cigarette. He doesn't smoke a lot—Seonghwa doesn't like it when he does—but he needed to today, as much to get a moment alone as to have a cigarette.

He exhales, the smoke mixing with the fog of his breath, and puts the cigarette out in the snow with a small hiss.

There's no point trying to lie. Even without the bond, anyone could see the tension between Seonghwa and Hongjoong today. The way they've skirted around each other, their interactions stiff and formal.

"I don't really know," he says candidly.

Yeosang waits patiently. Hongjoong sighs and scrubs a hand through his hair.

"That's the thing—there wasn't anything going on with us, before. And it worked. And it still works. But now I've spent a heat with him and I just don't know… It feels different. But what if it doesn't for him? I want to be a good pack alpha who can help a member of the pack through their heat or rut and it not have to change things, because that's what a good pack alpha does. But I also want to be his alpha, I think. No, I know I do. I think I've known for a long time, but the heat sort of made me confront it. And I just don't know where to go from here."

Yeosang is quiet a moment longer, letting Hongjoong's confession hang in the air.

"Hongjoong," Yeosang says gently. "Have you thought about telling him all of that?"

Hongjoong barks a short, rueful laugh. Maybe Yeosang should be the pack alpha instead. He's got an excellent head on his shoulders.

"Yeah, I have. But it's like every time I think I'm ready to, something stops me. I want to give him space to decide. He needed me in the moment, for his heat, but what if that's all he wanted? What if I'm not that alpha he wants…or needs? I know how to be a pack alpha, but I don't know if I know how to be someone's alpha. And he deserves someone who does."

He rubs absentmindedly at his chin and lips as he talks. The urge to light another cigarette is strong, but he knows at this point it would just be stalling. He and Yeosang stand side by side now, backs leaned against the log wall of the cabin, gazing out at the snowy evergreens. Everything is quiet and still, the world seeming frozen in time.

"I think you need to stop thinking about this like a pack alpha," Yeosang says. "Just think about you and Seonghwa. I didn't see him when he was going into his heat, but San told me… Well, I probably shouldn't tell you exactly—that's for Seonghwa to tell you—but I will say you were all he wanted. Your name was every other word out of his mouth."

Hongjoong knocks his head back against the cabin with a soft thunk and sighs. Even as that thought sets free a riot of butterflies in his stomach, he finds it hard to believe, finds himself groping for the same excuses—Seonghwa wasn't in his right mind, it was only in the moment, he'll come to his senses.

It's as if Yeosang can see the gears turning in Hongjoong's mind and definitely feels his consternation through the bond.

"You can't avoid it forever," Yeosang says. It doesn't sound accusatory, but like encouragement. "We're stuck in this cabin until they can get us out. It's a big cabin, but it's not that big. Besides, it's not fair to Seonghwa. Just because he's not in heat anymore doesn't mean he doesn't still need you."

Hongjoong can't say he feels more resolved. When he steps back into the cabin, his legs feel like water. But he does know Yeosang is right. He's endlessly grateful for having a pack that takes care of him as much as he takes care of them, even when they don't have to.

Inside, he finds Seonghwa at the dining table working on a Lego set with Jongho. Really, it's Seonghwa building the Lego while Jongho passes him pieces, but both seem happy with their roles.

Seonghwa looks up, sensing Hongjoong's presence, and sends him a small, uncertain smile.

"Hi," Hongjoong says, then nothing more, his mind TV static.

"Hi," Seonghwa says. His hand hovers above the Lego set, stopped in his tracks like a nervous rabbit.

Jongho glances between them with a look that's equal parts weary and fond, then pretends to be very absorbed in reading the Lego assembly book.

"Sorry, don't let me interrupt," Hongjoong says. "I'm gonna go up to the room and was wondering—can you meet me there? Whenever. You can finish here first. No rush or anything."

"Yes, sure," Seonghwa says. His brows furrow slightly, and Hongjoong can feel him reaching out through the bond. He tries to put a lid on his nerves, not wanting to worry him.

"Cool, then I'll," he trails off and nods towards the stairs, then turns and hurries off. Not his smoothest moment, but at least he did it. There's no backing out now.

In the room, he paces. He knows he said no rush, but each second that passes seems interminable.

He decides he'll build a fire while he waits, something to occupy his hands and his mind for a bit. And a fire is romantic, right?

20 minutes later, he's got a pile of unlit logs and a collection of snapped or burnt-out matches.

Crouching in front of the fire, he stares down the unlit logs as if he can will them to come to life.

Then the bedroom door opens and there's Seonghwa looking like he stepped out of a luxury sleepwear ad in a blue satin pajama set. The top isn't buttoned all the way, leaving it loose, exposing his collar and chest. The marks Hongjoong left there are on full display, darkened to deep purple bruises. He flushes and averts his eyes, only to have them land on the smooth, golden skin of Seonghwa's miles-long legs in the shorts that barely reach mid-thigh.

This is not how Hongjoong wanted this to start—him crouched on the floor like a gremlin, hair a mess from repeatedly running his hands through it in frustration, surrounded by broken matches that paint a clear picture of his failure.

"What are you doing down there?" Seonghwa asks with a twinkle of amusement.

"Building a fire. Or trying to," Hongjoong says. He turns back to the fireplace, frowning at the dark grate that yawns back as if mocking him with silent laughter.

Seonghwa huffs a fond little laugh. He joins Hongjoong in front of the fireplace—the closest they've been to each other all day— and squats down to assess Hongjoong's handiwork. After a few moments' study, he sets about rearranging the logs with trademark Seonghwa efficiency.

"You don't want them too close together, it smothers all the oxygen," he explains as he works, speaking in that gentle, patient tone of voice that comes so naturally to him. Before he landed on studying fashion and business, he considered pursuing education and becoming a kindergarten teacher, and Hongjoong thinks he would've been amazing at it.

He should be paying more attention to what Seonghwa's saying so he can build the fire himself next time, but he gets lost in thought as he watches, emotion swelling so huge in his chest it's almost painful.

He's sure Seonghwa will be able to feel it through the bond. And even if he couldn't, he might be able to hear Hongjoong's heart with how hard it's beating against his ribs.

Seonghwa is too focused on the fire at the moment, though, the tip of his tongue pinched between his teeth as he arranges bits of tinder atop the logs and strikes a match with precision, no snapped sticks or multiple tries. He lights the tinder, places a couple logs over top the spreading flames, then sits back and watches as the wood catches and the fire blazes steadily to life. The light of it rims his sharp profile in gold, sparkles in his dark eyes.

Seonghwa turns away from the fire and catches Hongjoong's stare. Hongjoong inhales, soft and sharp, but doesn't look away. For a long moment, they simply look at one another, bathed in the glow and the warmth of the fire.

"Did you want to talk about something?" Seonghwa speaks just loud enough to be heard over the crackle of the fire.

"Yeah. Yes," Hongjoong says. He pauses to gather his thoughts. This feels bigger, somehow, than being with Seonghwa for his heat. Fortunately, there's no one he'd want by his side more in a moment like this than Seonghwa, even when he's the one he was to pour his heart out to.

Case in point: Seonghwa doesn't push him, doesn't look impatient. He waits, and while he does he snags the thick fur throw blanket from the foot of the bed and settles down in front of the fire. Throw around his shoulders, he looks up at Hongjoong and opens his arms, inviting Hongjoong under the blanket with him.

Relief, bright and sharp, floods Hongjoong's veins. He says a soft thank you as he settles in and Seonghwa closes the throw around them. The feeling of being near Seonghwa—near his omega—again instantly calms his hammering heart.

Like this, they can be close, but Hongjoong can look into the fire rather than at Seonghwa, which makes it all a little easier. He stares into the dancing flames, letting their mesmerizing flickers carry him along without thinking too hard and tripping himself up.

"First, I'm sorry I've been avoiding you. I've been telling myself I should give you space, but I never asked, and that's not fair to you, after what you've just gone through," he says. "And I was partially making that an excuse, too, because I was scared. I'm still scared."

"Scared? Of what?" Seonghwa asks softly. Hongjoong has his head resting on Seonghwa's shoulder and can feel the rumbling of his deep, velvet voice.

"Scared how things would change. Or how they wouldn't. I always wanted you to have a choice when you presented. I didn't want you to feel any kind of obligation to me. But then your heat hit and we got snowed in and you kind of didn't have a choice. And what if I'm not who you need? Or want?" He pauses for a long moment and then adds, voice a fragile whisper, "As badly as I want to be."

"I asked for you, Hongjoong," Seonghwa says. There's that tone of voice he gets when Hongjoong is being frustratingly stubborn. "There are six other pack members in this cabin. Two other alphas. I wanted you."

"But you were in heat. I'm a pack alpha. I feel like I didn't really leave you any option, being in such close quarters," Hongjoong says.

Seonghwa huffs and leans away from him, gently pushing him away as well until they're far enough apart to look at each other face to face.

"So you think I regret it?" he asks seriously. His forehead wrinkles and his scent takes on a sickly note, like wilting flowers.

Hongjoong shrugs helplessly. "Maybe? I just wanted to give you space to decide, I guess."

For a moment, he thinks Seonghwa is going to yell at him. He'd certainly deserve it. But, of course, that's not Seonghwa's style. Instead, he dissolves into disbelieving laughter and leans forward until their foreheads are resting against each other. Hongjoong squeezes his eyes shut, regret of his own and guilt and hope churning in his gut.

"And all this time I thought you regretted it," Seonghwa says.

Now it's Hongjoong's turn to pull back, eyes wide with alarm. "What? No." He grabs hold of Seonghwa's face and looks him dead in the eye so he knows how deeply he means every word he says next. "Never. I could never regret you, Hwa."

Seonghwa's beautiful eyes fill with tears, his face contorting to keep them from falling. Hongjoong doesn't let him go. When a few tears slip free, Hongjoong wipes them away with his thumbs and kisses the tracks they left behind.

"I'm sorry, Seonghwa," he murmurs. "I'm sorry I made you think for even a second that I could regret what happened between us."

Seonghwa nods and smiles a weak, watery smile. "I'm sorry too. I thought you wouldn't want things to change. Our pack has been so perfect for so many years."

"Our pack is perfect because it's us. Not because of our dynamics or our subgenders. As long as we're together, it's perfect. No matter what that looks like," Hongjoong says. This isn't his rehearsed speech, but it tumbles out of him easily. All these truths, now so clear for him to see, he wonders why he let himself get lost in his own head for so long.

"I want to be your omega, Hongjoong. Yours. I don't regret anything we did or anything I said during my heat. As soon as I presented and felt you through the bond, I knew. It felt so right. Like I've been looking for something I'd lost my whole life, but I couldn't remember what it was. And then I felt you and it was like 'Oh, there it is.'"

Hongjoong is crying now, too, trying to wipe away the tears on his arm so he doesn't have to let go of Seonghwa's face. "I felt that, too. I would have no matter how you presented. It's always been you."

Seonghwa places his hands over Hongjoong's where they still cup his jaw and melts into the touch, sighing deep and long, the relief of someone finally finding themself where they belong, no more burden to carry, no more hills to climb.

"Hongjoong."

"Hm?"

"Please kiss me now."

Hongjoong, who can never deny Seonghwa anything, doesn't wait another second to lean in and kiss him.

There, in front of the fire, they exchange countless, languid kisses. After all, why rush? They have all the time in the world now, a thought that zips up Hongjoong's spine like a bolt of lightning. Seonghwa hums and giggles against his lips, feeling his excitement through the bond. It's a relief to feel him so freely again.

Gradually, they find their way to the floor, until Seonghwa is lying on his back, the fur throw spread beneath him. Hongjoong pulls away for a moment and finds Seonghwa staring up at him with heavy-lidded eyes shining with liquid heat, and feels a pulse of desire through the bond.

"Are you sure?" he asks, breathless from the kissing.

Seonghwa nods, winding his arms around Hongjoong's shoulders. "I want you. Just you, just like this."

Hongjoong exhales a moan.

This time feels different. There's no urgency, no desperation, no uncertainty. Just the two of them soaking up every bit of each other they can.

Hongjoong presses lazy kisses up and down Seonghwa's neck while slowly undoing his buttons. Seonghwa sighs happily beneath him, tipping his head back to give Hongjoong more room, carding his fingers through Hongjoong's hair.

Hongjoong's lips trail lower, following his fingers, kissing the newly exposed skin with each button slid free. Over the marks he left last time, down the taut line of Seonghwa's stomach, on his quivering abdomen.

They pause so Seonghwa can sit up and slide his shirt off, then tug Hongjoong's t-shirt off. He stares at Hongjoong, eyes tracing every detail of him, like he's making sure to really look this time, now that his mind isn't clouded with heat. He slides his soft palms over Hongjoong's shoulders, the swell of his chest. His fingers dance over Hongjoong's ribs, and Hongjoong squirms a bit.

"Ticklish?" Seonghwa asks, smiling at the discovery.

Hongjoong nods.

Seonghwa grins and digs his fingers in between Hongjoong's ribs, making him squirm and yelp. He grabs hold of Seonghwa's wrists only to make him stop, laughing all the while, and pushes him back down onto the blanket. Then their laughter fades and they register this new position—Seonghwa pinned, Hongjoong's hands holding down his wrists—and the playfulness is gone, arousal rushing in in its wake.

For a moment, Hongjoong indulges in simply looking at the vision Seonghwa is beneath him. Golden skin glowing in the firelight, hair a dark halo around his head, lips swollen and shining from their kisses. He rubs his thumbs along the insides of Seonghwa's wrists, slides one over to caress his palm and press into the center of it, Seonghwa's hand falling limp under the pressure.

Hongjoong then lifts that hand and kisses the spot he pressed. He kisses the inside of Seonghwa's wrist, where his pulse is rushing, then down his forearm to his elbow, his bicep, soft skin and hard muscle beneath his lips and teeth. He presses his nose into Seonghwa's smooth armpit and inhales the musk of him. There's his scent, the salty hint of sweat, and the smell that's all Seonghwa, warm and clean and familiar. Hongjoong dips his tongue into the deep hollow of it, the taste on his tongue so very Seonghwa. Seonghwa shivers and moans softly at the intimate act.

Moving lower, to Seonghwa's toned chest, he licks and swirls his tongue around one of Seonghwa's peaked nipples. Seonghwa moans and arches under him, and he uses the moment to slide his shorts off of his hips. Seonghwa kicks them off the rest of the way, leaving himself bare. Hongjoong groans softly at the realization that Seonghwa wasn't wearing anything under his shorts.

He traces the tip of a finger in random patterns over Seonghwa's now-bare thigh, the soft inside of it, up and over to his flank, then his hip bone. He cups a hand between Seonghwa's legs briefly, just to feel the heat of him, the slick wet skin, but then takes the touch away and reaches up to his chest instead, damped fingers teasing the hard nipple his tongue has been neglecting.

The whine of protest Seonghwa was making dissolves into a moan at the new stimulation. Hongjoong hums in wordless satisfaction.

Everything was so fevered and rushed before, barrelling toward one end goal. Now, Hongjoong is going to take his time teasing pleasure from Seonghwa.

He closes his mouth around the nipple and sucks, then pinches it lightly between his teeth and tugs, mimicking the action with the other by squeezing it between his fingers. Seonghwa cries out.

"You're sensitive here," Hongjoong says. He rests his chin on Seonghwa's chest and observes his expression as he twists and tugs his nipple between his thumb and forefinger. It's beautiful and obscene the way his eyebrows draw up and together, as if the pleasure is so good it's painful.

He can't seem to find words, but nods in response.

"Have you always been?" Hongjoong asks. The thought that he could have made this wonderful realization years ago, could have been doing this with Seonghwa for so long, nags at him, but he brushes the regret away. They still have plenty of time to learn new things about one another.

Seonghwa nods again, licking his lips and swallowing hard. "Yes," he breathes out.

Hongjoong chuckles, a wicked edge to the sound, and tugs harder on Seonghwa's nipple. Seonghwa yelps with pleasure, twitching hard beneath Hongjoong's touch.

"Do you ever play with them by yourself?"

Seonghwa's blush deepens and he swats weakly at Hongjoong's arm. "Don't—it's embarrassing," he says in that sulky tone of voice that only makes Hongjoong want to tease him more.

"More embarrassing than what a dumbass I was this whole trip?" Hongjoong says.

Seonghwa laughs. "Okay, you have a point."

"You don't ever need to be embarrassed around me," Hongjoong says. He's still in awe he gets to see Seonghwa like this, that Seonghwa wants him this way. There's no way he couldn't adore everything Seonghwa says and does.

Seonghwa is blushing to the roots of his hair, but softly answers, "Yes." Then, even quieter, "And sometimes I think about you."

Hongjoong freezes, staring speechlessly up at Seonghwa, who squirms shyly under his gaze. Gently, Hongjoong catches his chin and makes him look at him. "That's the hottest thing I've ever heard," he says. Seonghwa's face blazes an even brighter shade of red.

"Did you ever…think about me?" Seonghwa asks.

Hongjoong runs his thumb over his plump lower lip and recalls all the times he fantasized about this mouth. The amount of times he tried to make himself think of something else but, when he lost himself to chasing his climax, he couldn't stop the images of Seonghwa flashing through his mind.

"Yeah, I did," he says.

This seems to please Seonghwa; Hongjoong can feel him preening through the bond.

"What did you think about?"

"Hm... This mouth," Hongjoong says, slipping his thumb past Seonghwa's lips. He groans at the readiness with which Seonghwa takes it, sealing his lips around it, caressing the pad of it with his tongue, sucking lightly.

"What you'd look like underneath me," he continues, his voice a little strained. "Or on top of me, either way. Any way. These shoulders, this waist." His free hand traces the curve of that waist, squeezing it in his grip.

"And here," he says, sliding his hand lower, between Seonghwa's legs. He cups his hand over his pussy again, grinds the heel of his palm against Seonghwa's clit.

Seonghwa moans around his thumb and pushes his hips up into his touch, seeking more. Hongjoong lets him grind up against his palm.

"I thought about how wet you'd get for me, what you'd taste like, how you'd feel around my cock," he says and slides two fingers through Seonghwa's soft folds and slips them inside. The way his pussy accepts them and clenches around them, like he wants to suck them in deeper, pulls a rough groan from deep in Hongjoong's belly. He crooks his fingers up to find that sweet spot, sliding them back and forth in short motions.

With a wet pop, he pulls his thumb from Seonghwa's mouth so he can hear his moans. They're soft, needy. His lashes flutter each time Hongjoong's fingers push deeper. With each movement, his pussy squelches, his wetness coating Hongjoong's skin.

He rubs Seonghwa's nipples with his spit-slick thumb. Seonghwa trembles underneath him, letting out little moans and hums of pleasure. Hongjoong keeps his touches light and slow, meant to draw out the pleasure and let Seonghwa bask in it as it builds, slow but steady.

He decides he's going to make Seonghwa cum like this, even as his wrist begins to ache.

As much as he's enjoying the pretty little sounds Seonghwa's making, he can't resist capturing him in a kiss. Seonghwa whimpers against his lips like the kiss is balm on a burn, finally giving him the relief he's been craving.

He kisses back with feverish need, cradling Hongjoong's face in his hands to keep him close. Each time they part—never for more than a fraction of a second—Seonghwa gasps, and when their lips meet again, he moans into it.

Eventually, his head falls back against the floor, as if he can't physically hold it up anymore. Hongjoong quickly occupies his lips with his beautiful throat. Seonghwa arches and pushes against the motion of Hongjoong's fingers, his moans rising in pitch.

"'m gonna cum, Joongie, oh god, gonna cum, gonna, gonna—" His words are lost to sharp gasps and then his body locks up, his mouth hanging open in a silent moan, as his climax hits him. It's a slow wave crashing through him. Hongjoong feels the way the tremors travel down his body and then his pussy is clenching, throbbing around Hongjoong's fingers and he finds his voice, crying out with pleasure.

"That's it. Feels good?" Hongjoong mumbles against the damp skin of his neck. He kisses along the underside of his jaw and bites lightly at his prominent Adam's apple. He continues to move his fingers through it, drawing it out.

"Ah—god!" Seonghwa yells. His eyes are wide, like he can't believe it's still going. His hips jerk erratically, simultaneously seeking more and shying away from the continued stimulation.

Then, he reaches his limit, his legs snapping closed around Hongjoong's arm. His cunt is clamped so tight around Hongjoong's fingers he has to gently urge him to relax before he can pull them out. When he does, they're coated in thick, milky colored slick. He groans softly and can't resist pushing Seonghwa's thighs open to get a look at the mess he made of him. His pussy is flushed a deep red and leaking a trickle of creamy white.

Hongjoong curses under his breath. Seonghwa is perfection. Gorgeous, obscene perfection.

He drags his gaze up to Seonghwa's face, sees him flushed and panting for breath, eyes dazed. From under his lashes, he watches as Hongjoong raises his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean, moaning at the taste of Seonghwa.

He is, he realizes, achingly hard. There's a substantial damp patch on the front of his underwear, the fabric clinging to his skin. He shoves them off, relieving himself of the uncomfortable sensation. Seonghwa's eyes dart down to his cock, his teeth sinking into his lower lip, a hungry glint entering his eyes. But Hongjoong has other plans for him at the moment.

He tugs Seonghwa's hips up and hooks his knees over his shoulder, so the upper half of his body is still against the floor, the lower half raised, and his pussy right in front of Hongjoong's face.

Seonghwa squeaks in surprise and looks, wide-eyed, up at Hongjoong, realization dawning and punching a moan from him.

"Can you take more?" Hongjoong asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against Seonghwa's thigh.

Seonghwa nods. "Yes. Please."

Then Hongjoong's mouth is on him, and he's yelping at the onslaught of sensation.

Hongjoong drags his tongue between his lips. Over his fluttering hole, up to his swollen clit that he rubs with the flat of his tongue. Seonghwa is extra sensitive, his cunt throbbing against Hongjoong's mouth.

"Oh god, Joongie," he moans. His eyes roll back and he smiles in pure, ecstatic pleasure. "Fuck."

Hongjoong agrees with the sentiment with a hum.

He repeats the long, broad strokes of his tongue a few more times, then traces more precise patterns through his folds with the tip of his tongue.

He takes his time, enjoying the act as much as Seonghwa is enjoying the pleasure.

He licks, dips the tip of his tongue into his hole, then drags it back over him, up to his clit. It's filthy, the sound of him, moaning and slurping shamelessly. He sucks on Seonghwa's folds, pulls them between his lips. Then he pulls back and spits onto Seonghwa's pussy, a mix of his saliva and Seonghwa's slick. He spreads the mess with his tongue, getting Seonghwa even wetter.

He could, he thinks, happily do this for hours. The rest of the night. He could live here, between Seonghwa's thighs.

Seonghwa is so sensitive, each little touch making him twitch. When Hongjoong focuses on his clit, licking the stiff bud, flicking with the tip of his tongue, Seonghwa tosses his head back and releases a near scream of pleasure. His legs threaten to clamp closed around Hongjoong's head, Hongjoong's hands on his thighs the only thing keeping him in place.

Hongjoong lets him ride out the wave, then he closes his mouth around his clit and sucks, his tongue still going all the while.

"Ha…ha!" Seonghwa moans like he can't believe how good it feels, the pleasure so much he has to laugh.

"Mm-hmm," Hongjoong hums against him, encouraging him without breaking his stride for a moment.

In no time, the relentless attention on his oversensitive clit has Seonghwa cumming again.

He squeaks and shakes and paws at the blanket beneath him, and his cunt pulses against Hongjoong's mouth, leaking slick that smears across his chin.

While he waits for Seonghwa to stop shaking, he runs his hands soothingly up and down his shins and his thighs. The moment he stills, relaxes, Hongjoong has his mouth on him again, pushing his tongue inside his slick hole.

Seonghwa's body snaps to attention again, back bowed, muscles rigid.

Hongjoong runs his palm over his quivering lower abdomen until he relaxes a bit under the touch, sinks into the sensation. As he thrusts and curls his tongue, Hongjoong slides his hand a bit lower, to the hard ridge of Seonghwa's pubic bone, and slowly applies pressure. It's partly to hold him in place—the more sensitive he gets, the more he squirms—and partly to make the pleasure even more intense.

It feels like Seonghwa is melting on his tongue, the way he softens for him. Slick sweetness, with a tang of salt, coats Hongjoong's tongue, his lips, his chin. He's finding he loves making a mess of Seonghwa, the evidence of how well he pleases his omega all over his skin.

Each stroke of his tongue focuses on Seonghwa's sweet spot, providing steady, rhythmic pressure to the soft, ridged skin, while his hand provides pressure from the outside.

Seonghwa lets out low keens with each pass. His body rides the waves of pleasure, slow rolls of his hips matching the rhythm of Hongjoong's tongue.

His orgasm this time is quieter, though no less intense. Head tossed to the side, panting through it, sighing soft moans into the fur blanket. His eyes squeeze tightly shut, his brows pinch, his mouth hangs slack. It almost looks subdued, but Hongjoong can feel it through the bond, the way the pleasure is so intense it's left Seonghwa mindless, surrendered completely to sensation.

It makes pleasure thrum insistently in his gut, his cock twitching and leaking a bead of precum that drips down the length of him. He knows, when he eventually does get his cock inside Seonghwa, he's not going to last long. He doesn't mind the thought, though. As long as he's made Seonghwa feel good, he's satisfied.

He eases his tongue out of Seonghwa's cunt, feeling him flinch and hearing him gasp softly when he's left empty. Little aftershocks still shake through him, and Hongjoong soothes him through it, pressing soft, reverential kisses to his knee, along the firm curve of his calf, the bump of his ankle bone. When it's through, Seonghwa limp and drained, Hongjoong gently lifts his legs from his shoulders and lowers him back down to the floor.

Seonghwa sighs and stretches, languid as a cat arching its spine. Hongjoong sits back on his heels, watching and waiting. Whatever Seonghwa wants, he's ready to give.

For a little while, all Seonghwa wants is to bask in the moment. He's loose-limbed and thoroughly sated. The fire is warm on their skin and casts the room in an intimate, romantic glow. It's banked a bit, burning low and steady to match the arousal and affection smoldering between them through the bond.

After a few minutes of shared comfortable silence, Seonghwa pushes himself up onto his elbows, then to sitting. He has to visibly concentrate to get his limbs to cooperate, but he pushes through until he's up on his knees, matching Hongjoong's posture.

Wordlessly, he holds Hongjoong's gaze and lays his hands on his shoulder to urge him back until he's sitting and Seonghwa is climbing onto his lap. His eyes don't leave Hongjoong's once, the reflection of the fire's flames in them like the manifestation of his desire.

Hongjoong wants to say something, but can't find the words. All he can do is stare in awe up at this gorgeous omega who, somehow, is all his.

The low light of the fire throws the defined lines of his muscles into sharp relief. His sculpted arms and shoulders, his firm chest, his toned thighs flexing as he settles into place atop Hongjoong.

Hongjoong's hands settle on his waist—quickly becoming one of his favorite places—not to guide him, but simply for the pleasure of holding, the warmth of Seonghwa's skin beneath his palms.

It seems Seonghwa wants to take the reins now, and Hongjoong is more than happy to let him.

Seonghwa drapes his arms loosely over Hongjoong's shoulders and leans down to give him a kiss, slow and deep and purposeful. When they break apart, Hongjoong is left dizzy from the intensity of the want he feels. Not just the want for Seonghwa's body—though he's certainly never desired anyone this intensely before—but for all of him. For Seonghwa to be his in every conceivable way. He won't ask to mark Seonghwa tonight. That's a longer conversation that needs to be had, one that will involve the entire pack. But he knows he will, someday soon.

Seonghwa surely feels some of this through the bond. Not every specific, but he'll be able to feel the longing and the surety.

"I want you like this," he murmurs. He lowers himself until his hot, slick cunt meets Hongjoong's thigh.

Hongjoong flexes his thigh to create a firmer surface for Seonghwa. His hips stutter for a moment, then he finds the rhythm again, moaning softly with each drag. While he rides Hongjoong's thigh, he reaches between their bodies to wrap his long fingers around Hongjoong's cock. Hongjoong hisses at the contact, achingly hard and so sensitive after going so long with no attention.

A smug little smile tugs the corners of Seonghwa's lips up. Confidence looks good on him, makes Hongjoong twitch in the circle of his hand. His cocks leaks another fat pearl of precum that Seonghwa catches in his hand and spreads over his length, each twist of his wrist producing a soft, slick sound. It matches the sound of his soaking pussy against Hongjoong's leg. He's so wet, Hongjoong's skin is shiny with it.

They're quiet, nothing but heavy breaths and the occasional wet smack of lips as they share hungry kisses. When they're not kissing, they rest their foreheads together, both of them looking down between their bodies, watching the fluid motion of Seonghwa's hips and his hand stroking Hongjoong's cock in time with his grinding.

Soon, Seonghwa's breathing picks up and his hips begin to lose their rhythm. He tries to keep jerking Hongjoong's cock, but he loses his rhythm there too, his hand stilling and doing nothing but occasionally squeezing, swiping his thumb across the tip a few times.

Privately, Hongjoong is thankful for the change—it still feels good, but he's at less risk of cumming before he has a chance to be inside Seonghwa. And he really, really loves watching Seonghwa come apart on top of him.

He tips his head back and arches, pressing himself down more firmly against Hongjoong's thigh. His elegance gives way to desperate need.

Not taking his eyes off Seonghwa's face, so gorgeous in the throes of pleasure, Hongjoong slides his hands from his waist to his ass, gripping it tight in his hands, nails digging into the firm flesh.

"That's it, angel," he breathes hot into the crook of Seonghwa's neck. "Cum for me one more time and then I'll fuck you." With his grip on Seonghwa's ass, he helps guide the movement of his hips so he doesn't lose it completely.

Instantly, Seonghwa does as he's told. He trembles apart above Hongjoong while Hongjoong watches, enchanted. He'll never get tired of seeing Seonghwa like this—completely unguarded, giving into desire, taking exactly what he wants.

He moves his hips in desperate little circles, gasping and whimpering Hongjoong's name.

"I'm here. I've got you," Hongjoong says. He kneads Seonghwa's ass and presses hot, open-mouthed kisses up and down the pretty line of his neck. Now that he can without worry, he lingers over Seonghwa's scent gland, mouthing and licking at it until Seonghwa's scent bursts on his tongue like the unfurling bloom of a tropical flower.

Seonghwa doesn't wait a moment. The second he has control of his body again, he grabs Hongjoong's face in a fierce grip and pulls him into a kiss that's all teeth and tongue and ravenous need. Panting hot into each other's mouths, biting at each other's lips, drinking each other up like they need it to survive.

"Please," Seonghwa gasps into Hongjoong's parted lips. "Please fuck me now, Hongjoong. I wanna feel you inside. Want to ride you; want to feel you deep."

Hongjoong groans, raking his nails down Seonghwa's broad back.

"You can. I want you to, angel. Want you to make yourself feel good, however you want."

Seonghwa lifts his hips and Hongjoong leans back, bracing himself on one hand, for a better angle. His hand resting on Seonghwa's hip, Seonghwa's hand steadying himself on Hongjoong's shoulder, the other holding the base of his cock. The tension is thick enough to taste as Seonghwa positions himself over Hongjoong's cock, hovering for a moment. He glances up, meeting Hongjoong's gaze, then looks back down to watch himself sink down.

It's heaven and hell all at once, being enveloped by the tight, hot clutch of Seonghwa's pussy. Salvation and sin.

Seonghwa stills for a moment, breathing hard through his nose, lower lip pinched between his teeth. They're both shaking, barely holding it together.

Then Seonghwa slams his hips down, takes Hongjoong all the way, all at once.

It's nothing short of a miracle that Hongjoong doesn't cum right then and there.

Seonghwa has turned the tables on him, now not giving him a moment to catch his breath. He's immediately bouncing himself on Hongjoong's cock, lifting off almost all the way, then taking him deep, as deep as he can.

"Oh my god, Seonghwa," he groans, watching his gorgeous omega move with unbridled awe.

Seonghwa nods. "So good, Joongie. You're fucking me so deep, god, feels so good."

As good as it feels, Seonghwa can't sustain it for long. They've been going too long and he's cum too many times, his legs left fawn-weak.

He sinks down and then stays there, breathing hard, the muscles of his thighs trembling.

Hongjoong sits up a bit more and winds an arm around Seonghwa's waist to support him, pulling him closer until they're pressed chest to chest.

Seonghwa wraps his arms tighter around Hongjoong's shoulders, holding himself steady, his fingers tangled in the hair at Hongjoong's nape, as he starts moving again, this time only rolling his hips.

Hongjoong's knot is fully swollen, ready for his omega, but he doesn't try to push it inside, and Seonghwa doesn't try to sink onto it. That's not what this is about. This time it's about just them.

Seonghwa's clit does slide against the knot with each roll of his hips, though, the added stimulation pushing him toward the edge fast.

As much as they'd like to make this last longer, they're both too overwhelmed with pleasure, too sensitive, too lost in each other. And, in the back of their minds, they both know they can go at least once more tonight. Probably more than once. However much longer they're snowed in at the cabin, they'll make use of every second.

Hongjoong tries to hold back, to let Seonghwa cum first, but whatever control he had left is gone and his climax is like a runaway train, hitting him hard and fast and unstoppable.

It's all-consuming, white-hot fire burning through his veins. He whines brokenly and slumps forward, forehead resting on Seonghwa's shoulder. Seonghwa has stopped moving and strokes Hongjoong's hair, purring and nuzzling against Hongjoong's temple.

Hongjoong's brain is reduced to mush, his limbs rubber, but he tries to fight through all of that and reaches between their bodies to rub Seonghwa's clit with his thumb, wanting to make sure he cums too.

Seonghwa gently but firmly swats his hand away and takes over, rubbing himself with two fingers.

Hongjoong doesn't fight it. It's nice to give up control for a moment, to let someone else take charge.

While Seonghwa touches himself, he reaches his other hand down and squeezes Hongjoong's knot.

"Oh, fuck," Hongjoong whimpers. The feeling of having his knot enveloped has him cumming again, cock throbbing and spilling deep inside Seonghwa. There's so much and, without his knot plugging Seonghwa up tight, it begins to leak out of him, coating Hongjoong's cock, his knot and Seonghwa's fingers.

"Mm, yes, Joongie, just like that. Fill me up, ruin my pussy," Seonghwa babbles. He's moving again, quick little bounces that churn up the pearly mixture of Hongjoong's cum and his slick until it's frothing around where his pussy is stretched around Hongjoong's cock.

The mess makes it difficult for him to get any friction on his clit, his fingers sliding clumsily. Still, it's enough in his oversensitive state, and soon he's cumming too, trembling in Hongjoong's lap, his cunt pulsing rhythmically around his cock. His fingers are still absentmindedly squeezing Hongjoong's knot too, and the pleasure is so much, bordering on painful, that Hongjoong tears up.

He doesn't ask Seonghwa to stop, though. He just watches, drinking up the sight of Seonghwa's eyes rolling back, mouth hanging open, sweat-slick skin flushed and shining in the firelight.

When he does stop, he's like a puppet with its strings cut. Every muscle goes limp, his body folding over Hongjoong's. He's officially spent, pushed to the limits of what his body can handle in one go. Through the bond, Hongjoong feels his utter and complete satisfaction.

Neither of them is in any hurry to move, but eventually the position begins to become uncomfortable, limbs going numb and joints protesting, and their mixed release growing tacky on their skin.

Gently as he can, Hongjoong lifts Seonghwa off his cock. When he slips out, Seonghwa's pussy clenches around the sudden emptiness and a flood of Hongjoong's cum leaks out of him. They both moan at the obscene sight. Seonghwa's pussy is thoroughly ruined, red and puffy, stretched and leaking. It makes Hongjoong's alpha rumble in approval.

Hongjoong winces at the state of the fur blanket, another casualty of his and Seonghwa's…activities. He makes a mental note to give Yeosang some money to replace the blanket and the bed linens.

For now, he and Seonghwa settle down in front of the fire on a clean patch of blanket, with no intention of moving any time soon.

Hongjoong admires Seonghwa in the firelight, stroking his hair, tucking a strand behind his ear.

"That was amazing," Seonghwa says softly.

"You're amazing," Hongjoong says. "I should have been selfish from the beginning, made you mine as soon as I could." He says it in a joking tone, but there's a note of truth there, of regret.

"It's not selfish to want things for yourself, Joongie," Seonghwa says seriously.

Hongjoong swallows hard, throat catching. This is why he and Seonghwa are meant to be; who else knows him so well, knows exactly what he needs to hear, sees right into his soul as if it's their own? He can't believe he denied himself this for so long.

Though he's sure Seonghwa can already feel his heart-aching affection through the bond, he pushes it through more deliberately, direct and unambiguous. I love you.

The tears gathering in Seonghwa's eyes shine jewel-like in the firelight. I love you, too.

Then, through the bond, they feel something like fireworks going off. It's the rest of their pack, joy and love and relief, a shared message of It's about fucking time!

"Mind your business!" Hongjoong shouts. He doesn't actually mind (though it does make his ears burn to think of the rest of them hearing him and Seonghwa fucking like wild animals, a thought he'd been too distracted to consider earlier). There are no secrets in a pack, after all.

Seonghwa dissolves into giggles, hiding his face against Hongjoong's chest, his ears bright red. He's probably having a similar realization about the pack hearing everything they just did.

Hongjoong smiles and kisses the top of his head. "Don't be shy. You sounded so sexy."

Seonghwa makes a wordless, strangled sound of protest and smacks Hongjoong's bicep, but his shoulders are still trembling with laughter.

In retaliation, he sneaks his hands to Hongjoong's sides and digs his fingers into his ribs.

Hongjoong shouts and squirms. "No fair," he gasps, "I didn't think you'd remember!"

"Oh, I'm never going to forget," Seonghwa says, raising his head to grin at Hongjoong. "Anytime you tease me, I'm gonna shut you up like this."

Hongjoong tries to squirm away but only succeeds in ending up on his back with Seonghwa sitting on his hips, pinning him thoroughly and giving him free rein to tickle Hongjoong mercilessly.

It shuts Hongjoong up very effectively, rendering him unable to do anything more than laugh and gasp for air.

Finally, Seonghwa stops. He's perched above Hongjoong, looking triumphant and fond all at once while he lets Hongjoong catch his breath. Then he leans down and kisses Hongjoong, gentle and chaste and full of affection. All is immediately forgiven, Hongjoong humming happily against his lips.

They break apart slowly, and Seonghwa stays close, gazing down at Hongjoong with eyes glittering with mischief. Hongjoong gets a whiff of his scent, heavy with attraction, and his alpha perks to attention.

"Again?" he asks incredulously. He never thought he'd meet someone who put his stamina to the test.

"Hmm…" Seonghwa seems to seriously consider it for a moment, weighing his exhaustion, the tenderness of his body, with his desire. Then he shakes his head and settles down heavily atop Hongjoong, pillowing his head on Hongjoong's chest.

"Not yet, gotta rest," he says, and Hongjoong is silently grateful.

For a while they just bask in each other's presence. An alpha with his omega, and omega with his alpha. They stare into the low-burning fire, their hearts beating in time, Hongjoong's fingers stroking up and down the dip of Seonghwa's spine.

They're quiet for so long, Hongjoong thinks Seonghwa may have once again drifted off. But then he lifts his head to look at Hongjoong and asks, "How long do you think it'll take the snow plows to get to us?"

"When Yunho called, they said another day. So maybe tomorrow? Morning after that, at the latest?"

Seonghwa hums thoughtfully. Then, slowly, a smile that spells trouble stretches languidly across his face.

"And how many times do you think you can cum between now and then?"

Hongjoong's eyes fly wide, his cheeks flood with heat, and his belly clenches with a very strong rush of arousal.

He laughs, amused and turned on and very much in love.

He should have known Seonghwa wasn't going to take it easy on him.

He wouldn't have it any other way.