Archive of Our Own

Jungkook didn’t know what to do. 

He felt numb as he sat there, perched on the edge of his bare bed. It had already been stripped of its bedding when the elders had gotten wind of something bad coming from the outside world. They’d hastily packed up everything, all of the omegas feeling frantic and filling the dorms with the sharp scent of panic as they stored everything away in suitcases and boxes.

He’d made himself useful by taking care of the younger omegas, soothing them with pets and whispers as he guided them through folding their robes nicely, even with shaking hands. They were so young, not even old enough to mate the Alpha yet. A few still clutched their puphood toys to their chests; they weren’t even old enough to have had them taken away.

There had been panicked chatter and frantic movement through the dorms, but there was a beat of ominous silence now, and then the first outsider came in.

Jungkook didn’t know why he didn’t scream like so many of the others did, why he didn’t try to scramble as far away as he could, too, only to be stopped by unknown alphas and betas guarding the doors. The Alpha’s servants were behind the strangers in the halls, kneeling and handcuffed, looking anywhere from resigned to furious.

The omegas weren’t treated nearly as harshly. Not even the house mothers were given anything more than a stern redirection to keep them inside the omega quarters. Jungkook put an arm around one of the pups as they watched, but—

He felt ashamed when he let an outsider take the pup from him, the child whimpering but just as susceptible to the strange alpha outsider’s kindness as Jungkook used to be. Perhaps he still was weak for kindness. Or he would be, if he didn’t feel quite so numb.

Jungkook had tried to stand, to find some other place where he could be helpful to his sisters, but his legs wouldn’t hold him up. He just sat on his bed, watching everything around him unfold as though he were behind glass, or underwater, or as if the entire thing was a confusing dream that would be barely remembered come morning. There were other omegas doing the same thing, sitting or standing, watching with a vague sort of terror. There were others begging, pleading, threatening that the Alpha would come for them soon.

He caught two of the outsiders glance at each other when one of the omegas said that. It made the mating bite on his neck feel oddly tight. He wondered if any of the other omegas, with their matching bites from the Alpha, felt the same grim finality that he did.

The outsiders were asking some of the omegas seemingly innocuous things (Are any of you related? Are any of you mated to each other? Are any of the pups yours? They were all sisters under the Father. It was impossible for omegas to be mated to each other. The pups were taken into the Nursery as soon as they were born, raised together, the dams who bore them giving them their milk indiscriminately). The outsiders were always touching them with a gentle hand. The air was calmer now.

Jungkook stared at the betas placed strategically around the room, at the concentrated set of their faces as they regulated their scents, casting out stabilizing pheromones. 

Most of the remaining omegas were still crying, tears pouring helplessly down their cheeks. But the younger ones, the unmated pups—

“We’re going on a field trip,” a smiling outsider told them, squatting down to look them in the eye. “It might be scary at first, but you’ll be safe. Okay?” And when the oldest pup nodded, the sweetest, most protective twelve-year-old Jungkook had ever met, the others all followed suit. Jungkook watched as they were led out, never more than two going with the same person.

“Hi, there.”

Jungkook jumped, staring at the alpha who had taken a knee in front of him, meeting his eyes just as he had met the pups’.

“What’s your name?”

Jungkook swallowed, but his throat was dry. Even if he wanted to tell this alpha his name, he wasn’t sure he could. But the outsider didn’t scowl or chastise him or do anything that an alpha of their pack might have done for his disrespect.

“I’m Namjoon,” the outsider said instead, giving him a dimpled smile. “Do you have anything you want to bring with you?”

Jungkook glanced around. It wasn’t only the pups leaving, now. It was some of the older omegas, too, and most of the ones around his own age. Never more than two together. He wondered if he’d have a second omega with him when they led him out. He didn’t have friends, they weren’t allowed that, and he wasn’t even sure if he wanted someone to be with him. Perhaps it would be better to carry his fear by himself.

He shook his head minutely.

“Alright,” Namjoon said easily. “Are you mated to anyone here?”

Jungkook swallowed and shook his head again. “Not here,” he said quietly. “The Alpha.”

Namjoon’s face was too unreadable for Jungkook’s liking, but it was easy enough to look away.

The pups were all gone, as were most of the omegas Jungkook often did chores with. The house mothers didn’t pay him any attention, busy sobbing or praying on their knees for the alpha to come save them.

Namjoon gave his knee a pat as he stood, a touch he was so unaccustomed to that it felt like an electric shock. “Is my scent okay with you?”

Jungkook blinked in confusion, taking a sniff before he could stop himself. Namjoon smelled—nice. Not spicy like some of the Alpha’s servants, not acidic like some of his betas. “Yes.”

“Great. Let’s go.”

Jungkook took another glance around. Most of his sisters were gone now, the other wives escorted out and away, into the world beyond the walls that many of them had grown up in. The pups were gone, what few things he had were gone, the familiar betas and alphas out of sight, and—he stood.

As soon as they stepped outside, Jungkook felt a terrible rage and panic that was not his own sear through him, centered on his mating bite. The Alpha, his alpha, his mate, was being dragged from the safe room, wrists and arms bound, three large outsider alphas manhandling him into a heavy duty van. The Alpha’s teeth were bared as he thrashed, nearly foaming at the mouth, trying to wrench himself away, to escape, to get out of the alphas’ unrelenting grasp. 

Jungkook stared, and the Alpha didn’t pay him any attention. Until—

“Jungkook,” the Alpha crooned when he spotted him. The familiar glint of knowing, of control, of ownership was in his eyes, the seething anger not visible but still burning through his bite. “My little omega. Come to Alpha.”

Jungkook realized all at once that he didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to go to him; the Alpha was fearsome on his kindest days, and this was not a kind day. His alpha called for him, and Jungkook wavered on his feet. His alpha sneered when he didn’t hurry to him obediently, anger seeping into his eyes as well as the bite.

“Useless fucking child, come, fight for your alpha—”

How could he fight? he wondered absently. He was just an omega. He was weak-willed and weak-minded. How could he fight?

“Jungkook!” the Alpha yelled, rage burning as he was shoved into the van. “Jungkook!”

“Jungkook,” Namjoon said beside him. No platitudes came from his lips and Jungkook was grateful. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you out of here.”

Jungkook had been out of the walls, sure. He’d been to the grocery store with a few sisters and guardians a few times, outsiders staring at them. Hatefully, the elders and guardians said. Jungkook had never felt any hate from them, though.

He’d even been on a trip with the Alpha once, to a beach house a few hours away. He and the other newly-mated sisters shared a wonderful honeymoon, playing in the water and collecting seashells and making dinner and being under the Alpha’s watch, only five at a time instead of the usual seventy or so. They stayed until their bites began to heal, after the Alpha reinforced them a few times. (It hurt, Jungkook found, shocked because it didn’t the first time. Adrenaline was a blessing, an elder told him when they returned, when he muttered a quiet confession as they scrubbed pots and pans. The Alpha is a blessing, she had added belatedly. The Alpha is a blessing, Jungkook had agreed. His bite had ached.)

Namjoon’s hand remained on his back as they walked to one of the haphazardly parked cars in the dirt. He stopped and talked to a beta on the way (“One,” he said, “his name is Jungkook. I’ll take him to mine and check in in the morning”), and then Jungkook was in his car, in the front seat, watching the van carrying his mate drive off.

“It’ll be okay,” Namjoon said when he got behind the wheel. He gave Jungkook’s hair a brief pat before resting his hand heavily on his head. “It’ll be okay.”

-

Jungkook drifted off as they drove, exhaustion from the day hitting him all at once. He didn’t sleep deeply, blinking awake when he was jostled by the road a little too much, but his eyes fluttered shut again after. Namjoon hummed to himself on occasion and the sound was oddly comforting. Someone was there, even if it was a strange outsider someone. Even if it was an alpha who wasn’t a guardian. Even if it wasn’t his alpha. 

Especially if it wasn’t his alpha.

“Why did it happen?” Jungkook mumbled when he had been jostled but unable to fall back to sleep.

Namjoon was quiet for a moment. “I’m not entirely sure. I don’t work for law enforcement, so I don’t know the details of the investigation. Something to do with embezzlement and abuse.”

Abuse. He hadn’t been hit that often. He knew some of his sisters had. “Why were you there if you don’t work for them?”

“I work for an omega services agency. Usually as more of a case worker, but I’m trained in emergency response, so—I got a call, and I answered.”

“Oh,” Jungkook said. He rubbed his eyes and sat up straighter, awake enough to stay that way. Wherever they were going couldn’t be that far away now, unless they were driving to another country.

“I have to ask,” Namjoon said after a few minutes, hesitation in his voice. “How did you end up there?”

Jungkook blinked, furrowing his brows. “What do you mean? I was born there. ”

Namjoon didn’t seem to have an answer for that, but Jungkook saw him grip the steering wheel tighter. Jungkook couldn’t bite back his whimper at the clear sign of anger, the burnt wood that tinged the air, and Namjoon’s grip loosened immediately. 

“Sorry,” he muttered. An apology from an alpha through Jungkook off enough for his brief panic to subside. An alpha had never apologized to him. “How old are you?”

“Um,” Jungkook blinked.”I-I’m twenty, I think? I don’t know my birthday. Maybe twenty-one.”

“When were you mated?” Namjoon shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be asking you these things right now.”

Jungkook shrugged. “You’ll probably ask again later, right?”

“Yes,” Namjoon admitted. “We’ll have you do an official interview in a few days, when you feel up to it.”

“It’s been a few years. Four. I don’t know my birthday, but I know that.”

“Four,” Namjoon said faintly.

For having never heard it before, Jungkook felt he knew that tone. “I was born his,” he said simply, quietly. “It was always going to happen.”

Namjoon was silent after that.

“Here we are,” was the next thing he said, pulling into the driveway of a house. It was very unlike the compound Jungkook had been raised in, the walls not tall and stark and the fence around it short and unbarbed. It was pretty, he thought. Warm.

And when he saw a curtain parting in the front window, it became incredibly intimidating all at once.

The front door opened just a few seconds later, an omega rushing out to meet them.

“Jiminie,” Namjoon said, meeting him in front of the car. He gave the omega a kiss on the cheek, a shockingly soft affection that made something in Jungkook’s heart squeeze. 

The omega didn’t wait to be dismissed, didn’t even wait for the alpha to stop touching him. Instead, he opened Jungkook’s door for him, squinting at him with an assessing frown. He smelled—lovely, Jungkook couldn’t help but notice. Nice and clean, with something floral in the undertones.

Jungkook had been told his scent leaned towards honeysuckles. They only had a few scents to base their comparisons on, though, concentrated only to the flowers and vegetables they had been given to plant and the herbs they used to cook. Jungkook did love the honeysuckles, though. He couldn’t smell himself much, but he loved to sit beside them and dream that he could.

He was caught up enough in the scent to not feel a sharp spike of panic at how close he was. Omega or not, he was an outsider, and Jungkook should have known better than to talk to outsiders.

“Hi there, sweetheart,” the omega said. “I’m your Jimin-hyung. Come in, let me feed you.”

Jungkook was starving, he realized all at once, his belly clenching at the reminder that food even existed. They’d been about to make lunch before—everything. It was past curfew now, it had to be, even if he didn’t have the betas who upheld their schedules telling him so. 

The omega hadn’t asked his alpha for food, though, and his alpha hadn’t punished him, so—

“Thank you, Jimin-hyung,” Jungkook mumbled quietly, gratefully.

The omega beamed so brightly that Jungkook had to bow his head to keep it from burning.

Jimin put his arm around Jungkook’s shoulders as they walked into the house, tucking him close to his side. 

It wasn’t that Jungkook had never been touched, but as the omegas grew older, as they were prepared to mate the Alpha, it became more and more inappropriate. He hadn’t slept in the pup nest since he was twelve, hadn’t been calmed with scenting since he was fifteen. When he had his mature presentation and was taken by the alpha, other than the occasional accidental brushing of hands or subtle companionship of knocked shoulders, the only touch he had known since had been his mate’s. This didn’t feel—bad, though. Even if he felt bad for thinking so.

Jimin was warm. And after everything, Jungkook felt cold. 

As if reading his mind, Jimin gave him a squeeze, leading him into their home without a second thought, Namjoon following behind them.

“I’ve set up the guest bedroom for you, with all kinds of pillows and blankets so you can make yourself at home,” Jimin told him. “I wasn’t sure what scents you liked so I put a few different ones in your bathroom, too—there are some scentless ones that don’t smell chemically like some of the others. Snacks are in the side table, too, but I’ll be getting a meal into you before it comes to that.”

“Yes, sir.” Jimin clicked his tongue and Jungkook heard the silent scolding. Jungkook corrected himself, “Jimin-hyung. Thank you.”

“Good boy,” Jimin praised with pretty approval. Namjoon cleared his throat and Jungkook just barely resisted the urge to cover his surely-blushing cheeks. Jimin just gave his hair a passing pet before hurrying off to what must be their kitchen.

Jungkook wrung his hands as he stood in the middle of the hall, left alone with the alpha. Even though he’d been alone with him in the car, this felt much more nerve racking. He wasn’t used to being taken from the compound, he wasn’t used to being in a car for hours, and now that just being was the only thing he had to focus on, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself in the slightest.

“We can give you a tour after you eat, alright? For now—” Namjoon put a hand between his shoulders, guiding him to the dining table in the next room. “Sit and rest. I’ll get you something to drink. Is water okay?”

Jungkook nodded. “Thank you, sir,” he whispered.

“Ah, call me hyung, Jungkook-ah.”

Jungkook decided to do everything in his power to not do that. He had never even thought of an alpha as his hyung, and the older omega men had been addressed as his sisters, and it sent a spike of discomfort through him. Still, he nodded, and was thankfully not punished for his silence.

He let out a wavering breath when Namjoon left him alone, his legs shaking so terribly that he had to sit on the chair closest to him. He was tired, he was hungry, he was confused, he was exhausted.

And the last thing he had experienced in the life he was sure he would not return to was his mate snarling at him with an unmatched anger, one that he could still feel simmering in his bite even with so much distance between them. The last thing he had done was follow an outsider instead of his mate, instead of his master, instead of the only alpha who owned him and looked over him and protected him. Instead of the Alpha, who was fearsome and larger than life.

He didn’t seem so large when he was being shoved into a van in handcuffs, though.

He buried his head in his hands for a moment, trying to stave off the tears that burned at his eyes. He felt helpless, he felt like a traitor, he felt like a child, he felt like—he felt like nothing and everything all at once, too full and too empty, the future looming ahead of him like an unreadable black void and the past an unreachable white plane where his sisters and Alpha and all he had known gossamer thin and untouchable.

“Jungkook?” Jimin said quietly, his face worried and sympathetic when Jungkook jolted to look at him. “Ah, sweetheart. You’ve had such a long day.”

Jungkook couldn’t hold back the choked sob that caught in his throat, nodding and rubbing his eyes harshly with his fists. He lowered his hands when Jimin gently guided him to do so, touch just as warm as it had been before.

“Ah, little omega.” His voice was so sweet, so unlike the leering voices of the Alpha’s servants as they watched him, so unlike the Alpha himself calling him to do his bidding. “Here, sweetheart. Eat your fill and I’ll take you to bed.”

Jungkook nodded jerkily. “Th-thank you, sister—” He flinched before closing his eyes, correcting himself with an odd resignation. “Jimin-hyung. Thank you.”

“You’ve gone through a lot of changes today, Jungkook-ah. You can call me whatever you need.” He sat in the chair beside him and took a spoonful from the bowl he’d set in front of him. A simple broth and rice, warm and familiar and filling. Jungkook opened his eyes to watch his movements, furrowing his brow when Jimin blew on the steaming spoon. When he deemed it sufficiently cool, he held it up to Jungkook’s lips.

Jungkook blinked before opening his mouth unsurely, hoping he was doing what was requested. And Jimin’s gentle smile as he fed him was proof that he had. He was perplexed and touched enough that even the alpha’s footsteps coming into the room were not enough to force him to look away from Jimin, or even to duck his head to pretend he hadn’t been being fed by his omega so familiarly. Namjoon just sat a glass of water beside his elbow and took a seat beside Jimin, placing a hand on the omega’s nape.

Jimin didn’t freeze under his touch or act like it was anything but a comfort, even though the only times Jungkook had been scruffed was to comfort as a pup and chastise as a teen, or to control as a mated omega. He just hummed distractedly at his touch, focused more on feeding Jungkook another spoonful than his mate.

“We’ll give Jungkookie a tour tomorrow,” Jimin told him. Told him, not asked. “Rest will do him better than anything else. Unless you think otherwise, sweetheart?”

Jungkook licked his lips, not meeting either of their eyes. “I’ll obey what you decide,” he said quietly.

“Well—” Jimin cut himself off. “I say a nice sleep will make the world feel at least a little more right.”

Namjoon hummed his agreement. “Jimin will show you your room. I stay out of the guest room as a general rule, so you won’t have to deal with a strange alpha’s scent in your space.”

Jungkook thought he smelled nice, had indicated as much, but the thought of just omega scents made him relax slightly. He was used to his omega sisters; even the lingering scents of the familiar servants who looked over them were grating in the omega dorms.

“Thank you, sir.”

Namjoon gave him a warm, dimpled smile. Jungkook nearly ducked his head before he was stopped by another spoonful held to his lips.

When Jimin led him up to his room, he told him what doors were what in the hall, showed him how to work the shower in the attached bathroom, presented him with a small wardrobe of pajamas and casual clothes (thankfully with nightgowns and dresses—he wasn’t sure he could stomach wearing pants just yet), told him he could knock on their door if he needed anything, anything at all, and left him to rest.

At first, it was novel. Jungkook had never had a room to himself, always sharing with at least five other omegas. He’d never slept in such a plush, large bed, his mating night the only thing that maybe came close. The window looked out over a pretty garden, what he could see in the rising moonlight. The carpet was fuzzy and soft under his feet. Jimin had left plenty of things to make a nest with—he didn’t, of course, no matter what Jimin said, he couldn’t imagine that it was actually allowed, though he couldn’t resist slowly and carefully building a wall of pillows on one side of the bed.

But when the quiet really settled in, when the lack of bodies around him became noticeable, when it was clearly that he was alone, possibly for the first time in his life—

He hid his hiccupy tears in the pillows, hiding under the blankets and curling in on himself. He tried not to think of his sisters crying in the night, as well, even as he prayed for his more sensitive sisters to find peace in the quiet instead of this bone-deep loneliness he had found. He tried (and failed) to not think of the Alpha, tried (and failed) to not feel the pain of his bite, tried (and failed) to not feel like a traitor who had gone against his mate, who rejected his fate, who walked away much too easily from the only life he had ever known.

He didn’t remember falling asleep, but when he woke, his eyes felt achy after so much crying and his hair was messier than it had ever been from his time under the blankets. He had thrown them to the side at some point in the night and was covered in only a thin sheet, bedding all askew from tossing and turning the entire night.

He pushed himself up, blinking around groggily. His memory of the day before didn’t rush back; it had never left, even if he had a dreamless sleep. Still, it was odd. Being in a strange bedroom in a strange house in a strange place with strange people—

He was proud of himself for not yelping when there was a quiet knock on the door.

“Y-yes?” he called out.

“Ah, you’re awake!” Jimin said brightly. “I have breakfast ready downstairs whenever you’re ready.”

Jungkook wasn’t sure what possessed him. “Could you come in?”

Jimin didn’t hesitate, though. He opened the door and slipped it, closing it quietly behind them. When he caught sight of Jungkook’s birdnest hair, he let out a pretty laugh. “Oh, you cute thing—”

Jungkook blushed, patting his head self-consciously. He felt silly all at once. He didn’t have a reason to ask for Jimin to come in, he didn’t need help or have a question or anything, and couldn’t think of an excuse quickly enough. 

But Jimin saved him with perfect omegan grace. “Would you like some company?”

“I—” Jungkook swallowed before ducking his head. “Yes, hyung. Please.”

“Oh, thank god,” Jimin said, falling across the foot of the bed all at once. His enthusiasm was perplexing enough that he didn’t have the ability to worry about how to react to the familiarity. “Namjoonie had to go into the office early today and I’ve been bored.”

“I—” Jungkook blinked before glancing frantically at the window, “Oh, did I sleep too long? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

Jimin waved a hand. “I was hoping you’d sleep longer, to be honest, you need to rest, poor thing. But maybe you can nap later. I’m glad to see you now, though. Could I brush your hair?”

Though Jungkook knew pleasure was greatly frowned upon, he had always loved when the pups wanted to learn to braid or when the elders needed them to look extra presentable and took it upon themselves to do their hair for them. “That would be nice, sist—ah, hyung. Thank you.”

Jimin beamed, rolling off the bed to dig through a drawer, fetching a brush and a spray bottle. “Here, smell this, is it okay? It’s alright if not—”

Jungkook took it and gave it a timid scent. “That’s nice. What is it?”

“Ah, just a detangler.” Jimin grinned, wrinkling his nose in a friendly tease. “You might need it.”

Jungkook blushed and ducked his head but smiled. “Maybe. It’s not usually so—untamed.”

Jimin laughed prettily, climbing back onto the bed and sitting on his knees behind him. Jungkook’s eyes fluttered as soon as he started brushing his hair, taking the spray from Jungkook’s hands to spritz it on tangles, gently working them through. He hummed as he worked, and though Jungkook was sure he took much longer than was actually necessary, he would never have the heart to call him out on it. It was only when Jimin heard the quiet rumble of Jungkook’s tummy that he paused.

“Oh, I’m being such a terrible host! Come, come, let’s eat.”

-

Jungkook was grateful that Jimin seemed to understand that there was a lot Jungkook didn’t know. He’d only had to shyly ask what something was or what he meant a few times; Jimin tended to incorporate explanations in his happy chatter. And, Jungkook found, when Jimin talked, there was very little space for anxiety to reside in his mind.

“We’re not a traditional pack, per se,” he said as he led him outside, arms linked and a basket in hand, “but we are more traditional than most nowadays. We own land enough for all of us. Namjoonie-hyung and I are there, of course,” he gestured behind him, “and Taehyungie and Jin and Yoongi hyungs are just down that trail,” he gestured to the left, “and Hoseokie-hyung is to the right. We have dinner together a few times a week at the very least, but—we’re almost always all over each other. You’ll see soon,” he grinned. “Taehyung and I have been best friends since we were pups. When Namjoonie asked to court me, I almost told him that he’d have to court Taehyung, too, because we refused to be split up. But then Taehyung met Yoongi and Jin hyungs who were already in the pack, and—ugh, they were mated before we were, I was so jealous—”

The casual talk of mating had Jungkook’s cheeks stinging, but he did his best to ignore it, and did his very best to keep his interested hum from being strangled.

“Hoseokie-hyung is the best, too, you’ll love him. He’s the sweetest alpha in the world—” he paused and thought, “minus my own Joonie, but he's a close second.”

“And his—mate?” Jungkook asked, aiming for casual but surely sounding uncomfortable and unsure.

“Ah, he doesn’t have one,” Jimin sighed. “I’ve tried to set him up so many times, but he’s waiting. For what, I don’t know.”

Jungkook hummed again but was saved from trying to figure out what to say to that by a much more terrifying option.

“Jimin-ah!” an omega yelled, waving vigorously as he ran down the left trail. “You missed breakfast!”

“I did no such thing,” Jimin yelled back. “I just had it with better company!”

“With—I’ve never been so offended in my life,” the omega said, though he looked more pouty than truly offended as he came closer, slowing from his run. “Who is your company, though? I’d surely remember if we’d met.”

“This is Jungkook,” Jimin introduced, squeezing Jungkook’s arm. “Joonie brought him home last night. Jungkook-ah, this is Taehyung, since he decided to yell instead of be polite—”

Taehyung stuck his tongue out at Jimin before offering Jungkook a bow. “It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook-ssi. I hope you’ll be staying a while?”

“As long as he’d like,” Jimin said. “Want to join us for berry picking? Actually—” he huffed, giving Jungkook a long-suffering look, “he eats all the berries before they even hit the basket, perhaps we should run from him instead.”

Taehyung made an offended noise. “I do not! We always have enough after!”

Jimin gave a dismissive hum and gave Jungkook a pointedly disbelieving look.

“Rude,” Taehyung pouted. “But I would like to join you. Jin-hyung’s in town and my stupid alpha is too focused on work to give me the attention I rightfully deserve.”

Jungkook blanched, staring at him in disbelief. To speak so disrespectfully of any alpha was unbelievable; for an omega to speak so terribly of their own alpha—

Jimin rubbed his arm lightly and Jungkook let out a shaky exhale, nearly glancing around with fear that someone had heard Taehyung’s words. He would have smelled if anyone was close, he knew his sense of smell was good even for an omega, but the terror he felt, the fear of how horrible Taehyung’s punishment would be—

Taehyung was frowning, Jungkook realized, and peering at his face. There was a sudden light of knowing in his eyes, though, and he let out a quiet “Ah.”

“I’m sorry, Jungkook-ssi. You’re not familiar enough with us for me to be speaking so boldly. My alpha knows I love and respect him very much, and even if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be offended by my speaking so. In fact, I told him off for not giving me the kisses I deserve before I left and he just rolled his eyes at me and told me to find someone else to kiss.” He blinked. “Not that I would, to be clear, he was teasing.”

Jungkook nodded shallowly even though he didn’t understand in the slightest. He would have been—he didn’t know what his punishment would have been if he’d spoken about any alpha like that. If he’d spoken about the Alpha—

His hand flew to his mating bite, as though the simmering anger he felt under the surface was brought on from the thought.

Taehyung’s brows furrowed briefly before he gave Jungkook a soft smile. “Come, we can speak of more pleasant things among the berries.”

Though there had been berry vines and bushes in the compound gardens, their fruits had been reserved for the alphas and betas, and Jungkook had to be taught which ones to pick. When he watched Taehyung pop a blackberry into his mouth, the omega held another out for him.

“I’ve never had one,” he confessed, and he was promptly supplied with the ripest samplings, amd assured repeatedly that he was allowed to have as many as he pleased when his eyes lit up at the very first taste. He did not indulge as often as they encouraged him to, greediness a fearful thing even with pleasant company, but his lips were stained all the same. Jimin cooed as he wiped the corner of his mouth, making Jungkook’s cheeks go as pink as his mouth.

“Oh—” Jimin gasped, taking both of Jungkook’s hands in his own. “I didn’t even mention, I’m so sorry—we were going to host dinner tonight, would that be too much? I’m sure Taehyungie wouldn’t mind taking over—”

“I wouldn’t mind at all,” Taehyung offered.

“Oh—” Jungkook blinked, glancing between them both. “I-I don’t want you to have to—accomodate me, please don’t change your plans on my account—”

“Are you sure?” Jimin asked, brows furrowed. “If it would be too much—”

“I-I don’t mind,” Jungkook said, “I-I would feel incredibly guilty, please.”

“If it does get to be too much, I don’t mind chasing everyone out,” Taehyung said. “It would take no effort at all.”

“He can whine very effectively when he wants to,” Jimin nodded.

“That won’t be necessary, Taehyung-ssi,” Jungkook said, “thank you.”

“Well—I’ll whine everyone out if it comes to that.” Taehyung tucked a lock that had fallen loose from Jungkook’s braid behind his ear with a familiarity that Jungkook was sure he had not yet earned. The kindness made him blush and duck his head. “What are these berries for, anyways? Pie?”

“Tarts, I’m hoping. Have you had any, Jungkook?”

“Um—” Jungkook glanced at him, “Not with berries or—or any fruit, really. I’ve had sweet potato tarts on birthdays sometimes.”

“That’s—” Taehyung started, cutting himself off. Dismal, he didn’t say. “I do love sweet potatoes, but I will say that fruit tarts are much, much better.

Jungkook bit his lip and nodded. “I haven’t had much—much sugar. The Alpha said sugar kills sweetness.”

He didn’t like the way Jimin and Taehyung both stared at him and looked away, brushing a leaf from his lent apron. 

“Well, I assure you that you’re plenty sweet and strawberries won’t change anything about that.” Jimin tapped Jungkook’s nose with a finger. “The good news is that if you haven’t had many sweets, there are lots of yummy firsts in your future.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile at that, as small and shy as it was.

“Now—I’d like to goad you into taking a nap,” Jimin grinned at Jungkook’s immediate wary face, like he knew naps were a luxury that Jungkook was not given, “but I wouldn’t mind some help in the kitchen if you’d rather. Taehyung isn’t very—”

“Taehyung is a wonderful cook,” Taehyung interrupted with a faux-haughty tilt of his chin, “and has already been claimed by his mate to help.”

Jimin and Taehyung teased each other as they walked back, Jungkook carrying a full basket of berries in between them. Taehyung gave Jimin a kiss on the cheek when they reached the point where the three paths to the pack homes diverged, and gave Jungkook a brief hug that caught him by surprise despite the casual affections he’d been given all through the past hour or so of berry picking.

“I’ll see you both tonight!” Taehyung gave them a boxy smile. “I’d say we’ll try to not be as loud as usual, Jungkookie, but I’m not a liar.”

Jimin rolled his eyes and shoved his shoulder. “Jin-hyung’s truck is back, go help him so he doesn’t gripe about not getting any help around the house—”

“We take turns griping and it’s Yoongi-hyung’s turn this week. But I’ll go help anyways.”

He waved them off and jogged back down the trail, leaving them to wander back into Namjoon and Jimin’s home.

Jimin led him through baking, having him do the easy, non-tedious jobs even though Jungkook volunteered to do anything he knew how to do, as well as anything he was sure he could figure out. 

It was enjoyable, being in the kitchen with Jimin. After a long twenty-four hours of uncertainty, doing something he was familiar with (even confident in, though confidence in an omega was a useless thing) was a relaxing relief, allowing him to find a steadier step and a less unsure hands.

Jimin put the radio on, too. Jungkook hadn’t been allowed to listen to music, and the Alpha had disallowed them to sing hymns a few years before, so the songs on the radio were entirely new. Jimin sang along in a beautiful voice on occasion and talked over the commercials that Jungkook wouldn’t have minded hearing. He didn’t know anything about the idols the hosts were gossiping about (and the word idol sent a flurry of panic through him, as the Alpha was the only idol he had ever even considered, but these idols seemed to be much different than the one he had known), nor did he know anything about the things that were being advertised. It was all so foreign, but not in way that encouraged fear. Perhaps that would change (he was sure it would change), but for now—

He still jumped when Namjoon called out “I’m home!” from the front door, and looked at Jimin with wide eyes when he called back “We’re in the kitchen!”

Namjoon came in with a loosened tie and a suit jacket thrown over his arm, giving Jimin’s temple a sweet kiss before smiling at them both. “Are we having dinner here?” he asked, like any answer would be fine, no matter that Jungkook knew that there was already a plan.

“Mmhm,” Jimin confirmed, giving him a quick peck on the lips that made Jungkook turn away embarrassingly quickly, going back to his task of peeling vegetables even though it meant his back was to the alpha.

“Anything I can help with?” Even the offer was enough to make Jungkook feel off kilter.

“Absolutely not,” Jimin said, a grin in his voice. “Go shower, you smell like neutralizers.”

“Fine, fine. Did you have a good day, Jungkook-ah?”

Jungkook forced himself to face him, though he didn’t meet his eyes. “Yes, sir, thank you.”

“Ah, hyung is glad,” Namjoon corrected without correcting. Jungkook ducked his head lower. “I’ll be back in a little bit, I’d love to hear about it then if you’d like to talk.”

Jungkook nodded and did not look up until Namjoon was audibly halfway up the stairs. Jimin was watching him with gentle eyes and a gentler smile. Jungkook didn’t flinch when he stepped close, nor when he put his hands on his shoulders, squeezing comfortably.

“It’s alright, Jungkook-ah. Can you take a breath for me, hm?”

Jungkook hadn’t realized he hadn’t been breathing until he took a short one and let out a shaky exhale. His next was steadier, the one after made even steadier by the pleased look in Jimin’s eyes.

“There we go,” Jimin smiled. He gave Jungkook’s earlobe a gentle tug; sometimes he’d been led to a punishment by his ear, the pain of just that making him cry, but this was entirely different. Yet another fond familiarity Jungkook felt he had not yet earned but was warmly flustered by all the same. “I’m sure alphas will take some getting used to.”

Jungkook swallowed and nodded shallowly. “I-I was around alphas. And betas. Some of them were nice.”

“And some of them weren’t. Joonie’s a nice one. If he wasn’t, I’d leave him in the dust. I’m sure Jin and Yoongi hyungs wouldn’t argue too much if I took over half of Taehyungie’s nest. But I know it must be tough, being on equal footing. I don’t know—well, honestly, I don’t know anything about what you came from, but I can infer.”

Jungkook looked away, nodding again. “Alphas are scary,” he admitted quietly. “Even—even the nice ones.”

“Ah, Jungkookie,” Jimin said, quiet and sympathetic, petting his hair. “Listen, there are going to be four alphas here for dinner, and no betas to, ah, act as a buffer. If you think it would be too much for you right now—”

Jungkook shook his head quickly. “I-I meant what I said before. I’d feel so guilty, it would be so much worse for y-you to change your plans. And you—you said I could go upstairs, right? I-if it’s—if it’s too much.”

“That’s right, you can.” Jimin gave him a small smile. “I’m proud of you for trying, but I hate that you’ll be scared.”

Jungkook took a steadying breath. “You—you said they’re nice. I trust hyung.”

“Oh, Jungkookie—” Jimin cooed before hugging him, brief but warm. “You’re the sweetest.”

-

Trust or not, Namjoon and Jimin’s home filling with their friendly, loud pack was overwhelming.

Taehyung gave him an encompassing hug as soon as he saw Jungkook, rocking him back and forth with warmth and familiarity. “Jungkookie! I’m so happy to see you again—”

It hadn’t been more than three hours, but Jungkook leaned into his scent. “It’s nice to see you, too.”

“Hyung made enough to feed an army,” an alpha said as he walked in, putting a few deftly-held dishes on the table. “I tried to tell him one more mouth doesn’t need ten more plates.”

Namjoon perked up where he was helping set the table. “Oh, that just means leftovers—”

“Even with Jiminie you’re like a bachelor when it comes to food—” another alpha huffed. “And I can feed our pack how I’d like, thank you, and I had a few recipes I’ve been wanting to try—”

“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” Taehyung whispered loudly to Jungkook, “That’s actually what that means.”

“As I said,” the alpha said, giving Taehyung a pouty look, “I can feed our pack how I like.”

“You’re Taehyung’s alpha,” Jungkook blurted in realization. His cheeks quickly went pink after, “I-I—”

“One of,” Taehyung said. “Jungkookie, these are my alphas, Seokjin and Yoongi.”

Jungkook hadn’t quite processed what it meant when Jimin said there were no betas to serve as buffers; knowing Taehyung had two mates, there had to be either two omegas or two alphas. He assumed it had to be omegas, he’d never heard of alphas truly wanting to be in the same room as each other, much less anything improper, and yet—

Yoongi rubbed Jin’s back before helping him uncover the dishes they’d brought, and Jungkook had to force himself to not stare. It would be inappropriate to stare at anyone, of course, but alphas, two alphas—

“I’ll get everyone drinks,” Namjoon said. “Usuals? Jungkook-ah, what would you like?”

The thought of making a choice for himself was terrible, but Jimin saved him easily. “Water for us both, I think. Bring out a bottle of wine, though, I might indulge.”

Jungkook was more than glad to be ushered to sit at the table by Taehyung, even though it was accompanied by the omega giggling that it was fun to watch the alphas do all the work. Jimin sat beside them after a moment, too, taking Jungkook’s hand and squeezing it warmly, talking to Taehyung over him like he knew Jungkook was too overwhelmed to say anything at all to anyone.

The alphas bickered but in a friendly way, everyone’s scents mingling nicely, all of them clearly knowing each other, friends, packmates, understanding—

When they had all sat down, leaving a seat empty, across from Jungkook—

“Sorry I’m late!” called someone from the front.

“Shame on you!” Jimin called back, though there was no scolding at all in his voice. “How was class?”

“It was great—”

Jungkook didn’t hear anything else that was said.

The alpha that came in was unlike any he had ever seen. It wasn’t that he was exceptional, it wasn’t that he was entirely unique, but—

No one had ever glowed like him. No one had ever smiled like him. No one had ever spoken like him. No one had ever smelled like him. And he didn’t realize that the room had fallen silent around them, that the newcomer had stopped talking mid sentence, that they were staring at each other, both slack-mouthed and wide-eyed, until the alpha blinked and swallowed and offered a low bow.

“You must be Jungkook-ssi,” he said, warm, calm, perfect, rising to meet his eyes again. “I’m Hoseok. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hoseok,” Jungkook whispered hoarsely. He wasn’t sure how to say anything else.

When nothing but silence fell from their lips after much too long of a beat, Jungkook came back into his body with a deep shaky breath, a red blush climbing up his cheeks in a mix of embarrassment, self-consciousness, and shame. Shame for meeting an alpha’s eyes, he wanted to believe. But Jungkook was an honest omega. It was shame for seeing Hoseok and thinking 'Mine' with a ferocity that he had never felt.

Jimin put a hand on his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. Concerned, perhaps; curious, surely. Jungkook just swallowed thickly, breath still shaky but at least quieter than before.

“Sorry I’m late,” Hoseok repeated quietly, taking the only empty seat. If Jungkook kicked, he would hit him. The thought of proximity made Jungkook feel freezing cold and burning hot at once.

“Not a problem,” Namjoon said, his joviality almost put-upon to chase away whatever mood Jungkook had forced upon the room. “I haven’t seen you in a while, Seok-ah. Anything new?”

Hoseok laughed, but it was distracted and almost stilted. “Ah, you know me. Same old, same old. Work, classes, about to start renovating the second bathroom—”

“No new omegas in your life?” Taehyung asked with enough pointed teasing that even Jungkook could hear it.

Jungkook glanced up, helplessly interested in his answer.

“Ah,” Hoseok looked only at Taehyung. “No. No—not like that. There’s are new omegas in one of my classes, though, teenage twins, their family just moved and they did great during evals—”

It was a deliberate redirection and a gentle one at that. The table’s chatter seemed to return in full force after that, somehow listening to one person talk about their week while simultaneously having three separate conversations. It was nearly impossible to follow and was close to overwhelming, but before any panic could set in, something soft and citrusy floated by; a kind, calming caress that gently soothed his frayed nerves.

Even without knowing, Jungkook knew. He glanced up just in time to meet Hoseok’s eyes once more for a brief second, the yuzu scent paused for only a moment before flowing out once more. Though he could practically feel the omegas by his side casting him sidelong glances, Jungkook was too occupied by his mind racing to comprehend what was happening to pay it any mind.

And without meaning to in the slightest, Jungkook’s honeysuckle rose to meet it in time.

The table graciously pretended that nothing was happening, perhaps due in part to the humiliation that had to be tinting Jungkook’s scent. There was no way he was able to fully conceal the wrought emotions he was feeling, the confusion and worry with a hint of fright. Only Jimin and Taehyung addressed him directly and only when it was between the two or three of them, never forcing him to enter a conversation he would stutter and struggle through. Hoseok didn’t speak his name, but Jungkook could feel his attention linger for the rest of the meal.

He was waved off sternly when he tried to wash up, but his desperation to be useful was so palpable that Jimin reluctantly agreed to let him dry the dishes. When he found Hoseok at the sink instead of Taehyung like he’d assumed, though—

“Ah, Jungkook-ssi,” Hoseok said quietly, giving him a smile. Neutral but friendly, like yuzu didn’t blossom when he met Jungkook’s eyes.

“Hoseok-ssi,” Jungkook whispered, forcing himself to duck his head. He’d made more eye contact with alphas in twenty-four hours than he had his twenty years combined. “May I?”

He admittedly hoped that Hoseok would abandon the sink entirely, forgoing omegas’ work in favor of going off to talk of alpha matters that Jungkook had never been privy to, but he just kept his gloved hands in the soapy water, nodding to the dish towel hanging on a cabinet knob. “You’re kind to help, thank you.”

It was hardly a kindness; it was an expectation. Still, though. One of the kindest things he could be told, in his opinion, was that he was kind. He bowed his head, taking dishes from the drainer and drying them carefully and thoroughly, one by one. He caught up to Hoseok’s work quickly, emptying the drainer, switching to being handed dish by dish. Their hands didn’t meet, of course, it would have been improper and the alpha had pink rubber gloves on, but he somehow still felt like he was buzzing. He had never felt something like that. He hoped he wasn’t getting sick, he’d hate to place a further burden on Namjoon and Jimin.

“How are you doing, Jungkook-ssi?” Hoseok asked after a moment. His voice was quiet and gentle with a tinge of a low rumble that wasn’t threatening in the slightest. It was just—alpha. And he sounded genuine, too. He wasn’t asking for a ‘good, thank you, how are you?’ and perhaps most strangely of all, Jungkook didn’t feel compelled to give it.

“Good,” he said quietly, because it was the honest truth. He frowned a little as he dried a glass. “Confused.”

Hoseok made a sound of understanding, though Jungkook wasn’t sure how much he could understand. 

Maybe he had read the papers Namjoon had mentioned. It made something turn uncomfortably in his stomach, even though he didn’t think his life had been all that bad. It was a life that was over, now, and it was a life that had so far spurred people to treat him with kindness that was certainly unearned, that he couldn’t help but lean into it anyways. Every kind touch, every kind word, every kind smile—it had forced a sort of understanding of his own. Kindness was not something he was used to, and he seemed alone in that.

“I don’t know much about your situation,” Hoseok said, as if he could read Jungkook’s mind as easy as a book, “but I’ve read about current events. I sort of pieced it together, when I heard you were staying here.”

Jungkook nodded. What else could he do?

“May I ask—and please, know you’re not at all obligated to answer—what are you confused about?”

It wasn’t accusatory, like he thought Jungkook was taking all these kindnesses for granted, nor was it condescending, like Jungkook was a meer pup without words for his feelings. That being said, though—he felt like a wordless pup, unable to process all that was happening but unable to do anything to go where he was guided. He was glad he was being guided with kindness, at the very least.

“I’m not sure,” he said after a moment, quiet and honest. “I don’t understand what I don’t understand. So much is different.” He furrowed his brows, glancing at the radio that sat on the windowsill. “I didn’t know music was fun.”

Hoseok let out a laugh, but it didn’t ring of cruelty or anything of the sort. “It really is. I’m a dancer, music has been my lifeblood since I was a pup. Confused or not, I’m glad you’re experiencing it.”

Jungkook nodded. “Jimin-hyung sings well.”

“He does,” Hoseok agreed with a grin. “He’s our little songbird. That might not have been the best thing when we all lived together, though—our songbird is a night owl and I couldn’t begin to count how often we had to tell him to shut up at three in the morning. Only for him to go on again the next day!”

Jungkook tilted his head, fiddling with the dish towel even as Hoseok drained the water and stripped off his gloves. “I didn’t know you lived together.”

“Mm, we lived in Seoul for quite a while, but Yoongi-hyung found this property and—ah, it was like it called to us. It was odd to not live as a proper pack, but I don’t think we’ve ever been happier. Being connected to each other, just a minute’s walk away, but without having to share a kitchen—” Jungkook was surprised by his own quiet laugh, “if that’s not bliss, I don’t know what is.”

He jumped at the sudden loud yells that came from down the hall, tensing as more voices joined. Hoseok was watching him, but he didn’t seem nearly as worried as Jungkook. Then again, no one else had at anything at all so far, either.

“It’s louder here.”

It was a truthful explanation, but it didn’t cover all of his thoughts. It was loud, it was raucous, it was free from the punishing yells of the alphas and betas, free from the stern, unforgiving voice of the Alpha when they had displeased him, it was free from the sobbing barely heard from the punishment rooms and free from the stifled cries when infractions had been light enough to not necessitate the dread held there.

“Is it really?” Hoseok asked, surprised. “I assumed you lived with a lot more people.”

“I did,” Jungkook said simply. A hundred more, at the very least. He heard Jimin yell from the living room, he heard there be absolutely no recourse or slap or even chastisement. “I did,” he repeated quietly, falling into his mind a little too much. He gave a quick shake of his head, trying to chase away the feelings he’d been trying to deal with at night, when he could hear the loud snores from the alpha a few doors down and no sign of wakefulness from the omega that he imagined to be held in Namjoon’s arms.

“Do you miss it?”

The question was almost surprising. Though everyone had been thoughtful, it seemed that they sidestepped why he was there. Other than the occasional question about what he did in the compound, it was like he had just—appeared out of thin air. And he didn’t mind, it was hard to think about, but—

“Yes,” he said, grateful to have someone to say it to. “Not—not terribly, I don’t want to go back,” he frowned, looking at the kitchen tile. “It’s all I’ve ever known.”

When Hoseok held out his hand, Jungkook didn’t think before taking it. He flushed bright as soon as they touched, the surge of feeling, of warmth, of company that went through him almost incomprehensibly strong. Hoseok squeezed lightly, held his hand tight, and was looking at him with the purest, kindest, most honest eyes Jungkook had ever seen.

“It must be hard. I admit, I’m glad you’re not there, but I am sorry that it’s not of your own volition. All these decisions have been made for you.” All of them had, Jungkook knew, from his very birth, but he didn’t think Hoseok was talking about those. “I’m sure it would still be hard if you’d left of your own will, but—” he squeezed his hand again, smiled at him so warm and there that Jungkook felt lost in it, “we’re all here for you, and willing to do anything we can to make things easier. Or—at least easier to handle.” His smile widened and Jungkook was all the more lost in the curve of his lips. “And for what it’s worth, my house is way more quiet. You’re free to revel in it anytime.”

Jungkook couldn’t imagine ever taking him up on that, but he nodded all the same, forcing a smile even though he had to negotiate with his muscles for them to do anything. “Thank you, Hoseok-ssi.”

“Ah,” he squeezed his hand again before letting go, and Jungkook nearly keened at the loss, “call me hyung.”

“Hyung,” he repeated. “Thank you.”

-

Jungkook didn’t realize where he had wandered until he was staring at an unfamiliar cabin, one previously hidden by a pretty patch of trees, at the end of the only path Jungkook had yet to follow.

He’d just wanted to think, to attempt to process everything that happened for the hundredth time, and without, for the hundredth time, any expectation to succeed. He’d walked around Jimin and Namjoon’s empty house at first, cleaning things that didn’t need to be cleaned, looking out the windows just to see, listening to distant cars drive down the road before their driveway. He’d strolled through the berry fields for a little while before rustling in the wildflowers made him freeze, and the fright before he realized it was only a squirrel was enough to have him hurrying away. He didn’t go to Taehyung’s now-familiar home, either, because if he or either of his mates were home, they would enthusiastically invite Jungkook in and he would of course accept and he wouldn’t be alone with his thoughts as he was trying to force himself to be.

But when he saw movement in the window before the front door opened and Hoseok waved to him with a bright, surprised smile—

Being alone didn’t seem quite as important as it had before.

“Hi, Hoseok-hyung,” Jungkook said, even though he hadn’t been addressed. He hadn’t even done that with Namjoon yet.

“Jungkookie! Are you taking a walk?” Jungkook nodded. “Want to take a break? I just made lunch—”

He went pink, touching his cheek before hurriedly dropping his hand then his head. “Oh, I-I can’t impose, sir—hyung.”

“It’s not an imposition at all.” 

Jungkook frantically tried to think of an excuse to not join him; beyond fear of imposing, there was a much more palpable fear of entering an alpha’s space, a lone alpha’s space—

“Tell you what, we can have a picnic. There’s a table around the corner, go ahead and sit and I’ll bring it out. I have lemonade if you’d like?”

“I—” Jungkook swallowed. He wasn’t sure that he’d had that, but it sounded like a kind offering. He nodded. “Thank you. May I help you?”

“No, no, I can do it in one trip. I’ll be back in just a minute.”

Jungkook took a shaky breath as the door shut and Hoseok disappeared. He could do nothing but go around the corner to find the table, and—it was so pretty. Namjoon took care of the garden outside of their house, and carefully maintained the flowers in the front, and had mentioned helping the others with their plants on occasion, and Jungkook was sure that this was his green-touched doing. Flowers climbing up trellises surrounded the pretty wrought-iron table, hydrangea bushes surrounded it, bees settled happily on the flowers.

“Namjoon helps,” Hoseok confirmed, a grin already on his face when Jungkook spun around. A tray was in his hands, laden with cold noodles and drinks and other things Jungkook wasn’t sure he recognized. He was glad when Hoseok chose his seat first; that was one less wrong decision Jungkook could make.

He sat on the edge of the other chair politely, hands folded in his lap. Even though it hadn’t yet happened, he was prepared to eat what the alpha hadn’t—but Hoseok didn’t even think before serving Jungkook first, giving him generous portions without a second thought or a glance at his figure like the betas who controlled their meals did on occasion. “I hope this is alright with you. You’ll have to tell me your favorites so I can make them next time.”

“This is wonderful, Hoseok-hyung. Thank you.” His voice was too quiet, he knew, not at all how loudly everyone else talked, but Hoseok didn’t do anything but smile.

“Ah, you haven’t even tasted it yet. I’m not the most talented cook, but I get by.”

Jungkook liked cooking, he thought abruptly. He could cook for him.

He took an impolitely big bite in the hopes that Hoseok would ignore the sudden rush of red to his cheeks

They ate in relative silence, though Hoseok laughed at the inadvertent face Jungkook pulled when he tried the lemonade.

“I brought water, too,” he said, warm and fond like he’d expected as much.

Jungkook shook his head. “It’s alright.” He could struggle through; he’d done it with worse.

Hoseok grinned and poured him a glass of water anyway, gently replacing it. Jungkook blushed but gave him a small, grateful smile. “It’s a bit sour.”

“I don’t like as much sugar as the others do. They tend to complain. Which you’re free to do, I hope you know.”

Jungkook could not imagine complaining. He wasn’t sure he ever had; if he had, he was sure he had been punished so thoroughly he knew to never do it again and had blocked it from his memory entirely. Still, he nodded once, sipping his water gratefully.

“Thank you for the meal,” he said afterwards, cleaning up the empty plates before Hoseok could take on the responsibility himself. “I appreciate it greatly. It was very good.”

“You’re welcome,” Hoseok said instead of waving off his gratitude. “I’m glad you liked it. You know—I’m teaching class in an hour or so. Are you interested in going into town?”

The thought made his chest seize. He didn’t realize just how much of a safety zone the pack’s property had become until he thought of leaving it. But to deny an alpha—

“Perhaps another time,” Hoseok said gently. Jungkook flushed, bowing his head; he must have thrown his scent much, much more than he would have liked to. “Maybe we can make a nice little outing of it, yeah? Me, you, and the omegas?” He grinned. “We could invite Jinnie-hyung, too, of course, but—he’s a homebody.”

Being a homebody didn’t sound like a bad thing to be, nor did Hoseok make it out that way.

“Y-yes,” Jungkook agreed quietly, gratefully. “I would like that.” He wasn’t sure if that was true, but he thought he should say it anyways.

“I have to get ready to go, but—feel free to hang around. I have some nice places to relax if you’re interested, and if you walk a few minutes that way,” he gestured, “there’s a nice little stream. It should be flowing nicely after the rain the other day.”

Hoseok waved off his offer to help wash up, or at least carry things in, and Jungkook was admittedly grateful again. Staying in Namjoon’s home was intimidating enough, an unmated alpha’s was another thought entirely.

“I’ll see you later, Jungkookie!” Hoseok said, taking his hand and squeezing it warmly. “Thank you for eating with me. I enjoy your company.”

He wasn’t sure what there was to love about it, but he smiled either way. “Thank you. I—I l-enjoy yours, too.”

The beam Hoseok gave him was bright enough to chase away any worry he had over using such a strong word.

And when he walked home, even as he picked a few wildflowers for a bouquet, even as he organized it in a vase for the table, even when he took a shower later that night—his hand still felt warm and held. When he laid in bed and held his hands together, staring at them—it didn’t feel nearly the same. And yet, the feeling wasn’t erased.

-

Jimin had linked their arms together as he loved to do, pouting as they walked through the fields just to stretch their legs. Jungkook wasn’t sure how the conversation had turned (he often wasn’t sure how Jimin’s train of thoughts worked, nor Taehyung’s, for that matter), but Jimin was pouting over scents.

“Yoongi-hyung’s is too strong! It’s fine, it smells good, but I swear, when Taehyungie borrows anything of mine, he’ll bring it back and it smells like a roastery. Not even a coffee shop. I wish Hoseokie-hyung’s was stronger, though, he’s so summery but only on the breeze—”

Jungkook blinked. “Isn’t it?”

“Hm?”

“Isn’t—isn’t it strong?”

Jimin pursed his lips, thinking for a moment. “No, not to me. It’s like someone sprayed linen spray an hour before. Namjoonie’s, of course, is the very best scent of all, but—”

Jungkook tried to listen, but all he could think of was how Hoseok’s yuzu scent could drown out a room full of perfumes, could be picked out from a crowd of people, could be smelled from a hundred yards away—and had been, the last time they had pack dinner, at Taehyung and Jin and Yoongi’s that time. Hoseok had been late again, and Jungkook had nearly said “He just got here,” when Jimin dramatically complained, because it was a minute still before Hoseok actually came through the door with apologies on his tongue.

It was a nice scent, Jungkook reasoned. It was pretty and pleasant and relaxing. It made Jungkook feel light even when thinking of his life made him feel too heavy. He was pretty sure he smelled it even when Hoseok wasn’t there, even when Jungkook had seen him drive to work, giving him a wave from the porch when Hoseok made him giggle, yelling “My Jungkookie! I’ll miss you!” from the car window.

Jungkook had a good sense of smell, he’d known that for quite a while. But Yoongi’s coffee, Jimin’s jasmine, Namjoon’s gentle spice—none of them compared to how all-encompassing Hoseok’s was.

Jimin didn’t notice his silence; or, rather, he happily chattered in his nice, comforting voice the way he’d figured out that Jungkook loved. Jungkook decided that maybe, maybe, he should keep these scent thoughts to himself. For now.

-

Yuzu settled over him pleasantly, warming him where the sun was not after disappearing behind a cloud. The hammock in Hoseok’s garden had become one of Jungkook’s favorite places to be when the weather was nice and his hyungs were busy, and usually he was content to learn to read a little better with a book in hand, but it was so nice out, the breeze so gentle, the sun so warm, the hammock so comfortable—

Yuzu surrounded him even more as Hoseok spread a blanket over him, fetched from the house. It must be the afternoon now, Jungkook thought sleepily, giving in to the lazy desire to keep his eyes closed. Hoseok must have just gotten home.

“Mm,” he mumbled, a mostly-asleep thanks, a happy acceptance, pulling the blanket over his shoulders before trying to turn onto his side—

Hoseok yelped as Jungkook flailed, falling from it with all the grace of a newborn deer and the elegance of a muddy pig. Hoseok caught him before he hit the ground, though, even though it meant he had to kneel on the ground in his nice pants to do so. Jungkook blinked at him, eyes wide and startled, still half-asleep even if he was frightened.

“I fell,” he said simply, and Hoseok laughed breathily.

“Yeah, I know. Are you hurt?”

Jungkook shook his head. “Hyung caught me.”

“Just barely. Are you sure you didn’t hit anything? Your head? Your knee?”

Jungkook shook his head again. “Caught me.”

Hoseok took a deep breath, and it wasn’t til his thumb gently rubbed the nape of Jungkook’s neck that he realized how close they were, how Hoseok was still holding him, how Jungkook felt no need to run or hide or even stand. He should. He knew he should.

“Alpha,” he muttered, and Hoseok’s hand on his nape warmed him more than the sun, and Jungkook knew he would be feeling it even longer than the rest of his lingering touches.

Hoseok was looking at him, just looking, and Jungkook was looking back, and that was all. They just looked.

Jungkook had truly never felt what he did when he looked at Hoseok. He had never learned any words to describe it. Even if he’d had all the education that Namjoon had, he was sure he still wouldn’t. When Hoseok spoke, when Hoseok smiled, when Hoseok laughed, when Hoseok touched—

His felt his mating bite all at once and a surge of nausea swept over him. He sat up, nearly knocking their heads together, standing on shaky legs and smoothing out his skirt. He needed to leave. He needed to go.

He thought he’d muttered an apology, as insufficient as it was, but even if he hadn’t—

Hoseok might have called after him, but Jungkook didn’t hear. He ran back to Jimin and Namjoon’s hurrying into the house, closing the door behind him and leaning on it heavily. When Jimin poked his head out from the laundry room with furrowed brows—

Jungkook sobbed, an ugly, sudden thing, his eyes burning and throat aching, yuzu still surrounding him but for once, he didn’t want it to.

Jimin gathered him in his arms and Jungkook didn’t try to escape, burying his head in his shoulder and sobbing out in choked gasps. 

“Oh, honey,” Jimin muttered, and held him and swayed and let him cry. He led him to the living room after a moment, cuddling him up on the couch without forcing him to look at him. He waited until Jungkook’s sobs had stopped, til his ragged breaths steadied just a little, before tugging his hair gently. “What’s going on?”

There was a lot going on. There was more going on than Jungkook ever thought possible. But the thing that mattered, the thing that stung, the thing that burned on his neck like a brand—

“I’m the Alpha’s,” he said. He felt like sobbing once more, but he’d exhausted himself too much to start again.

It was the crux of everything, he felt. It was the thing that brought him here, it was the thing that had brought too many nightmares since he’d received his bite, it was the thing that shaped his entire life, from the moment he was conceived to the moment he was declared an omega. It was his purpose, his destiny, his fate.

And when he looked at Hoseok, he had no right to think he was looking at his future.

The future he saw was full of yuzu and honeysuckle, of bees and hydrangeas, of a warm sun and delicious food and a calm and peace unlike any Jungkook had known. The future he saw was Hoseok, and that was not a future Jungkook was allowed to have.

He didn’t know why he felt drawn to him so terribly, why he craved his scent, why his presence settled him from the inside out. He didn’t know why he wasn’t scared of meeting his eyes, he didn’t know why his smiles came as easily as it did with the omegas, he didn’t know why Hoseok simultaneously made his heart pleasantly still and rabbit-fast at the same time. He didn’t know, he didn’t understand. He didn’t understand.

“My baby,” Jimin said, cupping his cheek. 

Jungkook’s bite burned. It hadn’t burned like that since he first came to the pack, nearly a month ago now. He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t meet Jimin’s; he didn’t deserve the sympathy that was surely in them now. He saw the Alpha when he did so, though. He saw the false kindness on his face as he cooed at Jungkook, swiftly followed by the terrifying rage when Jungkook did nothing. He felt the horrible pain of mating, he felt the Alpha’s teeth sink into his neck, he felt his meaning, his fate, his future disappear when he was forced into the waiting van, he felt it all stay rooted in his bite, inescapable even if his mate was no longer there, and would never be there.

He was the Alpha’s. That would never change.

Jimin tucked him close again, pressing his lips to his temple and rocking him side to side. It was comforting and unearned.

“What brought this on, Jungkookie?” he asked after a few moments of soothing, of letting Jungkook catch his breath.

Jungkook just shook his head, burying his face in the crook of Jimin’s neck as much as he could. But the knowledge that his bite was there, that the mate Jimin loved and chose had claimed him and loved him—

“It’s not fair,” he said quietly, his snotty voice sounding so spoiled to his ears. He’d said that once or twice in his life, and each came with the lesson that fairness was not owed to omegas.

“Life often isn’t,” Jimin gently agreed. “But sometimes it rights itself, especially if it has a little help.”

Jungkook let out a quiet laugh, bitter, knowing better. “Not this.”

“Well,” Jimin started. He sighed after a moment. Jungkook knew he was right. The problem was that he was the Alpha’s. The problem was that that would never change.

His bite throbbed.

“I was born his,” he muttered into his neck, barely audible. 

He’d said as much to the beta who had interviewed him a couple weeks ago, when they were gathering statements from the omegas from the compound. He’d seen some of his sister omegas there. One had smiled at him, almost shy, the other hadn’t met his eyes at all. He caught a glimpse of one of the pups in the hallway, too, one that had been taken before they could be mated; he was glad that they didn’t see him, but hearing the pup’s bright giggle as the beta accompanying them gave their chin a tickle brought him a comfort he didn’t know he needed.

“I was born his. I was meant to be his. It was my blessed fate, a gift the higher powers, taking pity on my weakness.”

“Your weakness?”

“Being an omega,” he said. Jimin let out a quiet noise and rubbed his back. “It’s the only thing I’m good for. Wearing his bite and bearing his pups.” He swallowed. “It was what I was good for. Because—because one of those things won’t be happening now. A-and—and I’m glad for it, hyung, I-I’ve never—I’ve never let myself think a-about what I want and I wish I hadn’t thought about it now because it’s hard and impossible and stupid—”

“What do you want, Jungkookie?”

Jungkook didn’t answer.

-

Jungkook took to not leaving the house unless with was with Jimin or Taehyung, or until he saw Hoseok drive down the driveway. He stayed away from Hoseok’s cabin, didn’t stray down the path that would lead him there. It hurt more than he thought it would; not only to not see Hoseok’s sunny face or smell his bright scent, but for Hoseok to not come looking for him, to not be waiting for him expectantly, because Jungkook was hardly allowed to be expectant. But Hoseok maintained a respectful distance, didn’t seek Jungkook out, didn’t sit at Jimin’s table and wait for him to appear.

But Jungkook nearly tripped over the basket waiting for him at the back door.

Jungkookie~ was written nice and neatly on an envelope. There was no mistaking why it had been left, or who it was intended for. He swallowed thickly as he opened it, hands steadier than he thought they would be.

I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable the other day, it read, Hoseok’s handwriting as tidy and neat as the alpha himself. I hope you’ll be able to forgive me. I miss seeing you, and making sure you’re doing well. Though objects can’t make up for missteps, I hope you will accept the start of an apology, and if not, I hope you’ll accept this gift regardless. Love, your Hoseokie-hyung~

Jungkook read it once, then twice, just to make sure his still-learning mind hadn’t misunderstood. How did Hoseok think he was at fault? It had been Jungkook’s fault completely, beyond the shadow of a doubt. Jungkook had made him uncomfortable, Jungkook had overstepped, Jungkook had leaned into touch that was not his and brazenly sought it out besides.

In the basket were homemade cookies, a tiny jar of honey, and, most oddly of all, a little plush bunny that fit into the palm of Jungkook’s hand. It smelled of yuzu. Of course it did. He tucked it into the neck of his shirt without thinking.

He sat at the table for a good hour, eating too many cookies, chin brushing the bunny’s head, thoughts not racing as quickly as he thought they should.

With writing that was shaky and unpracticed, Jungkook wrote out his own note on a colorful sheet from the notepad stuck to the fridge.

Hoseok-hyung, it’s my fault. I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me. I miss your company. Jungkook.

It was stupid, he thought, pursing his lips. It was childish and silly and stilted. But what else could he say? Though he had already signed his name, he added, Thank you. I love the bunny. And the other things.

He left the note at Hoseok’s door, the corner slid under to keep it from blowing away in the light breeze. He wished he’d decided to leave the house later in the day, though. Now, he had hours to sit with anxiety in his belly, glancing to the driveway at any distant sound of a car, doing his best to not bite his nails. He was glad when Namjoon and Jimin came home, even though being in the presence of such a big alpha (a pack alpha) still made him nervous.

Jimin gave him a sweet, friendly scenting as soon as he got through the door, taking him into his arms with a delighted call of “My Jungkookie!” When he bumped into the bunny still tucked into the collar of his shirt, yuzu surely noticeable even if Jimin thought Hoseok’s scent was light, he gracefully did not say anything.

“How was your day, Kook-ah?” Namjoon asked with a warm smile, touching the shoulder Jimin hadn’t decided to occupy with his chin. They’d been getting him used to touch in a deliberate manner, he was pretty sure. There were too many exactly-two-second pats in passing for it to be completely natural. And, admittedly, it was working.

“Good, hyung. I didn’t do much.” In days past, that admission might have made him feel sick, the very idea of laziness enough to make him fear punishment. And his ‘not much’ did include dusting and washing the dishes and stove, but—it still didn’t feel like anything. It certainly didn’t feel like enough.

“Good,” Namjoon said with genuine approval. Jungkook would never understand how sloth was good, but—the praise made him flush and duck his head anyways. “I have to catch up on some work, but I think I’ll do it on the patio. It’s a gorgeous day.”

He wandered off to get his things, and Jimin wasted no time looking at him pointedly as soon as he was out of sight. Jungkook nearly pouted; he should have known Jimin wouldn’t let him go without addressing it, he was just waiting for omega-only time.

Jungkook nearly ran but Jimin took his hand like he could sense it. “You smell brighter.”

Jungkook blushed, avoiding his eyes as he nodded.

Jimin squeezed his hand. “I’m glad. Want to talk about it?” He laughed at how quickly Jungkook shook his head. “Okay, okay. I’m here if you ever want to.”

“Thank you, hyung,” Jungkook mumbled, determined to absolutely not ever do that. Even though— “Did you have a nice date?”

The words stumbled off of his tongue uncomfortably. Never in his life had he heard of ‘dates’ before Jimin and Taehyung happily told him about them, and he was ashamed to admit that romance and the sweetness that they claimed their mates acted with had taken over a previously-quiet part of his mind. The question acted as he hoped it would, though; Jimin’s attention immediately diverted from Jungkook’s rabbit and apparently brighter scent in favor of raving about their visit to the river and fancy dinner and whatever else they got up to.

When Namjoon passed them with his laptop and a kiss to Jimin’s temple, the sound of Namjoon’s pleased “Oh!” and “Hi, Namjoonie,” in a voice that Jungkook had more than once heard in his dreams followed. Jungkook’s eyes went wide. He hadn’t heard Hoseok come up the drive, hadn’t even smelled his approaching yuzu—

“Is Jungkook home?” Hoseok asked, like there would be anywhere else Jungkook would be.

Before Namjoon could answer for him, he called out, “Hi, Hoseokie-hyung.”

Hoseok came in with a beautiful smile and contriteness in his eyes. Jungkook wanted to chase it away, he found. He had nothing to be contrite for. He deserved to be as sunny as always, if that was how he wanted to be.

“Jungkook-ah,” he said, and fell quiet. Jimin glanced between them with brows raised until Hoseok cleared his throat, catching himself. “Would you like to take a walk with me?”

Jungkook swallowed and nodded, muttering only an “Excuse me,” to Jimin as he passed, slipping on his shoes at the back door. He gave Namjoon a polite wave and ignored his curious eyes as he followed Hoseok out, down the dirt path and to the woods.

“Have you seen the stream?” Hoseok asked.

Jungkook shook his head. “No. I didn’t want to wander alone.”

“Ah, would you like to? You’re not alone now.”

“I-I would. Thank you.” They walked in silence for a few moments, not quite awkward but certainly filled with words not being said. “Thank you again.”

Hoseok glanced at him before waving his hand a little. “I want to apologize in person, I—”

“Please, don’t,” Jungkook interrupted, looking at him with pleading eyes. “You really didn’t do anything wrong, hyung, I swear it. I just—I panicked.”

“I’m sorry to have made you panic.”

“It wasn’t you,” Jungkook said, tugging his own ear in an effort to stave off anxiety. It worked better than he expected. “I just—” He took a shaky breath. “I haven’t been close to alphas til—til I came here. It’s—strange for me. And—and I’m getting better, I’m getting used to it, but—”

“Would you like me to keep some more distance?” he asked, certainly not unkindly. He was gentle and considerate and he would do whatever Jungkook asked, and Jungkook did not want to ask him to keep any distance.

“No,” he admitted quietly. “Please.”

When Hoseok’s hand twitched at his side, Jungkook took it in his, a gentle hold that made warmth radiate up his arm. Silence fell between them once more, but it was filled with the crunch of small twigs under their feet and birds singing in the trees above them. The sound of flowing water joined after another moment’s walk, the path taking a turn to reveal a pretty stream that parted around smooth rocks, poured in small waterfalls, and made Jungkook feel like he was in one of the fairytales Taehyung had told him as he braided and re-braided Jungkook’s hair.

And the alpha who smelled so comforting and pleasant and made him feel warm in so many sweet ways—

His bite twinged on his neck, and Jungkook ignored it.

“Oh,” he whispered, peering into the stream. There weren’t any fish that he could see, but there were beautiful stones he knew he would be inspecting with interest and respect in the coming weeks. “It’s lovely.”

“I might have been sneaky when we decided to move here,” Hoseok grinned, squeezing his hand. “I wandered around first. This corner doesn’t seem like much unless you walk through the trees, and I was the first to discover it. I was a martyr offering to make my home here,” he sighed, “rather than with Jimin and Joon’s view of the sky or the other’s of the field. It was a noble sacrifice in their eyes.”

Jungkook giggled, letting go of his hand to step closer, crouching to touch the water, watching it part over his hand.

“Do you want to get in?”

Jungkook furrowed his brows, looking over his shoulder at him.

Hoseok grinned, coming to squat beside him, sticking his own hand in the water. It parted around Jungkook’s just to weave around his. “We can’t swim, obviously, but—it’s nice to wade in.”

“I’ve never done that,” Jungkook said. “Does the water mind?”

Yuzu swelled around him with clear affection, warmth evident even in the gentle citrus. Jungkook blushed, sure his own scent was doing something to respond, but he couldn’t smell it over Hoseok’s. He didn’t want to. He didn’t care what his own body decided to do, all he cared about was breathing in Hoseok’s for as long as he could.

“No,” Hoseok said, soft and fond and gentle. “The water doesn’t mind.”

He didn’t make Jungkook feel like it was a silly question, although he realized in hindsight that it truly was.

Hoseok did it first, taking off his shoes and putting them to the side, rolling his pants up to his calves. Jungkook carefully didn’t look, as though an alpha’s legs were as scandalous as an omega’s. Though he would have to show his, he realized—he’d taken to wearing pants after Taehyung raved over how cute he looked, and after absolutely no one else but Jimin had reacted to the change at all. He could keep them appropriately lengthed, but—

Hoseok didn’t look as Jungkook rolled his up to match, though not as high. He hoped it was enough to not get them wet, but he wasn’t sure his humility could take it if Hoseok saw his legs so blatantly displayed.

“Here,” Hoseok said, offering his hand again. “It can be slippery, but usually you can see the mossy spots.”

Jungkook nodded and took it, following him into the water. He yelped quietly at how cold it was before giggling at the way it lapped at his ankles, grabbing Hoseok’s arm to keep himself steady. “It’s so nice—”

“Yeah,” Hoseok agreed, though Jungkook was pretty sure he was looking at his face rather than the water. “It is.”

“Are there any fish?”

“Not in the stream proper, but it empties into a lake about a mile that way,” he pointed with his free hand. “Sometimes there are tadpoles and frogs, though, when it’s their season. Turtles, too.”

“I’ve never seen a turtle,” Jungkook said, looking at him with wide eyes.

“I’ll be sure to fetch you the very second I see one,” Hoseok said, and Jungkook knew he would.

Though they surely spent an hour exploring the stream, with Jungkook asking what must have been much too many simple questions and picking up tiny stones with too-long looks of childish wonder. Hoseok only squeezed his hand when the sun was halfway set already, the trees casting shadows dark enough that Jungkook had started to squint to see into the water.

“Jimin will have my head if I don’t bring you home soon, Jungkookie,” he said softly, giving him a smile and looking like he’d rather do anything but.

“Maybe,” Jungkook said with a sad little sigh. “Can we come here again, hyung?”

“Ah, of course, Jungkookie. Any time you want. With or without me.”

“With,” he said without thinking. His cheeks burned and he looked away. “Sorry.”

“For what?” Hoseok laughed. He got out of the water first, holding his hand out. “I’d rather wash mud off than walking with wet shoes,” he said. “I can carry you if you want?”

“Hyung—I’m taller than you.” It was the only objection he could make himself say. It was the truth, anyways, and it made Hoseok laugh.

“I could manage.” He made sure Jungkook didn’t slip as he followed him. 

Jungkook frowned at himself when he looked down; he should have paid more attention to his pants, they were soaked where he had rolled them. Hoseok hadn’t so much as looked at his legs, he was pretty sure, and another indecent inch would have saved them. Not that the washing machine wouldn’t, though Jungkook would be handwashing them anyways. He didn’t trust all the silly machines in their house, at least not yet. Surely there was nothing that they used a machine for that was impossible by hand. It might take longer, but—what else was an omega’s time for but chores?

He thought of Jimin, and thought, not for the first time, that maybe an omega was worth more than he’d been taught.

They were quiet once more as Hoseok walked him back to Namjoon and Jimin’s, the porch light on for them and Jimin’s curious face immediately appearing in the kitchen window. He didn’t rush out to interrogate them, though, and the back door remained closed.

“Thank you for walking with me,” Hoseok said quietly. He touched Jungkook’s hair, and he thought for a terrible moment that he might faint, the touch was so dizzying. “I had a good time.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook said. He was meeting his eyes, bold and disrespectful, but he wanted to look. He needed to look. “And I’m sorry I made you feel—”

“No sorries, Jungkook-ah.” Hoseok smiled, his thumb just barely gracing over the sensitive gland on Jungkook’s neck before his hand dropped. “I’ll see you soon, yeah? Dinner is at my house on Saturday.”

Jungkook nodded, and Hoseok escorted him right to the door, waiting until Jimin had pulled him inside and began scolding Hoseok for “keeping my pretty baby out so late, and bringing him home in wet clothes, too! Horrible alpha, go away.”

Hoseok didn’t take any offense, and only waved at Jungkook until Jimin stuck his tongue out at him and closed the door.

Yuzu retreated and honeysuckle swelled.

Jasmine met it. “Jungkookie,” Jimin sing-songed.

Jungkook, and there were no other words for it, ran away.

He could hear Jimin’s giggles until he gently closed his bedroom door, leaning against it before sliding to the floor.

Hoseok had told him “no sorries,” and he’d told him more than once. But Jungkook felt those sorries rise in his chest, felt latent sorrow rise in his throat. He was sorry, to Hoseok and himself and, worst of all, to the Alpha. Wanting was a sin, and lately Jungkook had been nothing but a sinner.

-

It was Jin who brought it up, during one of the rare moments he and Jungkook were alone. It wasn’t out of resistance or dislike, but Jimin and Taehyung tended to claim his time outside of the house, and Jin tended to very much like to stay inside of his.

He’d been recruited by Jin that Saturday morning to put together a few things for dinner, and Jungkook was all too happy to help. He remained all too happy to help, even when Jin casually asked, “Have you heard of fated mates?”

He was confused by the question and furrowed his brows as he peeled potatoes. Jin was allergic to them, apparently, but couldn’t resist making dishes he knew someone in his pack loved. “Yes. Of course.”

Jin hummed. “Do you believe in them?”

He was even more confused. “Well—yes. How could I not?”

“Some think it’s nothing but a romantic notion,” Jin shrugged. “Or that it’s not real at all.”

Jungkook looked at the pile of peels, but didn’t continue in fear of cutting himself given how his hands had started shaking. Odd, he thought, looking at them. Why would they start now?

“Do you think you have one?” Jin asked after a moment.

Jungkook gripped his knife before he could drop it entirely. “Yes,” he said, voice far away even to himself. “The Alpha.”

“The Alpha?” Jin asked, glancing at him. Jungkook knew that everyone knew, at this point, but not to the depth that Namjoon and Jimin, or Taehyung for that matter, did.

Jungkook’s hand flew up to his bite without him meaning to. Jin glanced at it before his eyes widened. “Oh.”

Jungkook wasn’t sure what to say. He stared at him, bite covered. “I was born his,” he said, quiet and numb, words he had said what felt like a million times before. Each time, they felt more and more resigned, more and more tired.

“Jungkook-ah—” Jin started. He wiped his hands on his apron before sitting beside him at the table, taking the knife and putting it to the side, holding Jungkook's hands in both of his. “How many others were born his?”

“Twenty-eight,” he said immediately. That was the number of omegas born directly into the community. There were three pupped omegas when the compound was raided. He wasn’t sure if he should say that it could be thirty-one. He wasn’t sure, he realized, if those pups were born the Alpha’s at all. “And fifty more were fated to be his, I think. Or—around it. Maybe more.”

He saw an argument on Jin’s face, saw the doubt in his eyes. But that was the only surety Jungkook had been left with, the only truth of his past life. He was the Alpha’s, he was meant to be the Alpha’s, and he would always be the Alpha’s. The bite on his neck proved it.

“Perhaps,” Jin said gently, instead of denying Jungkook’s entire life, “we are speaking of different fates. And even if we aren’t—” he took a deep breath and dropped one of Jungkook’s hands, rubbing his palm on his own thigh. “May I tell you something, Jungkook-ah?”

His tone was much more serious than Jungkook was used to, especially from him. He nodded timidly, swallowing.

“I was mated before I met Yoongi.”

Was.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean—I met my fated mate when I was young. Sixteen. I was a romantic, I still am, honestly, but—ah, it was like I heard wedding bells the moment I met their eyes, I saw our ten future pups running around, saw us holding hands when we were retired and had moved by the beach—”

Jungkook glanced over his face, furrowing his brows. “But not Yoongi-hyung?” Jin shook his head. Jungkook hesitated before asking, “And not Tae-hyung?”

Jin shook his head again. He rubbed his cheek roughly all at once, his grip tightening on Jungkook’s hand before loosening just as quickly. “No. I hadn’t met them yet. I mated after knowing my first mate for—two weeks, I think? Ran away from home to elope and everything. They were my alpha, you know? Why did I need to wait to start my life? They were perfect and kind and smelled so good and everything in me was drawn to them. Even when they turned unkind only a month later.”

“Unkind?”

“Ah, it was like every time a bruise faded, they would give me two more. And we had moved across the country, as far from all I had ever known as we could get, so I didn’t have any friends or any family or anyone to help or even tell me that their love was wrong. I was lucky to have an opportunity and a will to run just a few years later, even though the bite on my neck felt so painful that I nearly turned back at every step. They broke a few of my fingers for burning dinner, and it was the first broken bones other than a few ribs—” he took a breath, shaky and emotional, clearly verging on tears. “I got out, ran away, lived under a different name and worked shitty jobs that paid just enough for me to pay rent and eat cup noodles three times a day, but I felt more free than I ever had. I was too ashamed to go back to my family, especially when I hadn’t so much as talked to them in years, and I hadn’t even tried that hard to get them to let me call them. And then—then I met Yoongi. There weren’t bells like there had been before, I didn’t immediately name our pups, I didn’t think of a future together as soon as I met his eyes, but—”

“But?” Jungkook asked quietly.

“But—he became mine. Fated or not, he—” Jin pursed his lips and squeezed his hand, patting it a few times before letting it go, standing and hurrying back to the stove even though nothing was in immediate need of attention. “I had a fated mate, but Yoongi felt like my true soulmate. And our Taehyungie, for that matter, when he decided that we belonged to him.”

“Oh,” Jungkook said.

“I don’t—Hyung’s sorry, Jungkook-ah, I didn’t mean to lay all of that on you, it’s hardly your burden to bear.”

“No—no, hyung, thank you for trusting me. I’m glad you found Yoongi-hyung.”

“I am, too.” He glanced at him with a pursed-lipped smile. “I just wanted you to know, or—just wanted to say, I guess, that there are different fates. Some sing, some don’t. And some—some are not fates at all. My first mate was not my fate, and I don’t give a shit that I still carry their bite. It faded a lot, anyway. Both Yoongi and Taehyungie wanted to cover it with theirs, but—” He rubbed his neck for just a second, the side that Jungkook thought had held no bite. “I don’t know. I’m rambling.”

Jungkook shook his head. “I-I like hearing you talk, hyung. I’m sorry that you have sad stories to tell.”

“I’m sure you have plenty of your own, both good and bad. Most of mine are good now. And I think—I think in the end, it will be the same for you.”

“I hope so,” Jungkook said. He went back to his potatoes, and Jin went back to his stove, and Jungkook sank into the silence of the room and the quiet roar in his head.

-

(Jungkook had never been in Hoseok’s house before, and now he never wanted to leave. He wanted to soak up that strong scent forever, he wanted to wash all of Hoseok’s pretty mugs, he wanted to open the curtains and windows on fresh spring days and wrap himself in the blankets over the couch on cold winter nights and he wanted to see Hoseok comfortable and happy and—

Hoseok handed him a blanket when he left after dinner, and he realized his longing glances must not have been as subtle as he meant them to be.

Jimin didn’t say anything as they walked home, and Jungkook was pretty sure that he was marveling at his own restraint; he didn’t say anything when they closed the door behind them either, but that was very clearly due to Namjoon’s interrupting to bid him goodnight as soon as Jimin opened his mouth, and the hand the alpha put over it to keep him from yelling after him as Jungkook raced up the stairs with the blanket in hand, ignoring the outraged slobbery licks that Jimin was giving his palm.

Jungkook didn’t remember having any dreams, nor did he remember actually falling asleep, but he woke up surrounded by yuzu and honeysuckle and the beautiful morning sunlight and Jin’s voice whispering “Do you understand now?” in his head.

He didn’t understand, not all the way. But something in the back of his mind, the something that had taken every thought of romance and kindness and sweet-smelling alphas in its gentle claws and refused to let go, was starting to make itself known.)

-

Hoseok had Wednesdays off, and Jungkook knew this when he knocked lightly on his door.

Hoseok answered right away, dressed in an oversized t-shirt and loose sweats and bare feet and shower-wet hair, and a sudden blush that matched Jungkook’s own.

“Jungkookie,” he said, just his name sounding like it held everything good in the world. “Want to come in?”

Jungkook nodded, and he felt like he was home.

Hoseok’s conception of time off seemed to very much match Jungkook’s own, and he didn’t force Jungkook to sit still and watch as he cleaned. When Jungkook offered to scrub the counters, Hoseok only objected once before giving in with a grateful smile, showing Jungkook where he stored the supplies. Jungkook sang along to a few songs that Hoseok was playing over a speaker, and the surge of happy yuzu when he heard one he knew didn’t escape his notice. They stayed in the same room as they cleaned, chatting on occasion, singing or humming or, on Hoseok’s part, dancing to the music. 

Jungkook found himself giggling even as he scrubbed at the already-mostly-clean grout.

“I promise I didn’t ask you in to work you to death,” Hoseok said, sitting on the floor in front of him. 

Jungkook waved his hand before adjusting his hair, pushing it behind his ear. “I like cleaning. It’s relaxing.”

“Ah, I’m glad we agree. Not many do.”

Jungkook grinned and shrugged. Among the pack, that might be true, but there was little to do that was comforting at the compound that wasn’t throwing oneself into routine chores. Still, Jungkook found that he truly liked it, even when the temptation of television and radio and books he was getting better at understanding had been thrown his way.

“Let’s break for lunch,” Hoseok suggested, patting his knee. “I don’t have much, I was aiming to go to the store, but—”

“Could I go with you?” Jungkook asked, surprising himself. He hadn’t even been out with Jimin, other than a walk or two to the edge of town, grateful when Jimin grabbed his hand and suggested they head back when Jungkook’s scent soured.

“Of course!” Hoseok said easily. “I’d love that.”

And when he walked close to Hoseok, hand on the cart with a white-knuckled grip, looking around at entirely unfamiliar goods and feeling relief when he saw ones he knew—he didn’t feel the need to run away or even ashamed of his simple lack of knowing. Hoseok answered his questions, narrated as he went along so that Jungkook didn’t even need to ask questions half of the time, and, more than once, frowned at something before saying “I think you’d like this, Jungkook-ah, let’s try,” before adding it to the cart.

All the while, his presence made Jungkook feel steady, stable, even when strangers brushed by him, especially when Hoseok did the same, and more than anything at all when Hoseok put a kind hand on the small of his back to guide him through. 

The only question Hoseok laughed at was when he tapped a card to a machine instead of handing the cashier cash. Maybe he’d seen something like it before, but he’d never actually realized what it was—the alpha who managed the finances had always given the omegas who were going out the exact amount of cash that they would need.

“How does it work?” he whispered, tugging on Hoseok’s sleeve and hoping the beta behind the counter wouldn’t hear.

“Honestly? I have no idea.” 

Jimin had told him when he didn’t know something, sure, as had Taehyung—but Namjoon seemed to always have an answer for everything, and the very few questions he’d asked Yoongi, he had done the same. Perhaps Jin had just made up answers for fun, Taehyung had said he liked to do that, but for Hoseok, an alpha, to admit some sort of weakness, some sort of unknowing—

“Oh,” Jungkook said simply, but he wondered if Hoseok could feel the wonder that soared lightly through him.

They stored the bags in the trunk of Hoseok’s car before Hoseok gave him a sideyed glance. “We should put away the frozen stuff first, but—”

Jungkook blinked when he didn’t continue. “But?”

There was a pretty and unexpected blush climbing up Hoseok’s cheeks. “But—ah, I just—I want to keep hanging out with you, but I can’t think of what to suggest.”

Jungkook felt warmth blossom, and he was sure honeysuckle did too. “I don’t mind just sitting and doing nothing, hyung. I—I’d like to, ah, keep hanging out, too.” The casual words must have sounded as odd coming out as they did on his tongue, but Hoseok only grinned.

“Maybe we could go on a drive?”

“A drive? To where?”

Hoseok shrugged. “Just around. There’s some beautiful country nearby, I don’t think you’ve been able to see it yet.”

Once again, Jungkook knew how he should feel about the suggestion. To be alone with an alpha, to be without any escort, to be in an enclosed space and wearing pants that showed his ankles and to smile and laugh and talk freely—

“I’d like that, please.”

Hoseok beamed, and it made Jungkook feel warmer than the sun ever had.

And sticking his head out the window, Hoseok fondly calling him a puppy and sending Jungkook into a peel of giggles and endless blushing, eating fruit with his fingers from a stand on the road, sitting on the hood of Hoseok’s car to watch cows graze, talking about anything and everything and never, never, never feeling awkward or improper or worried about rebuke—

He thought of the Alpha, and he thought of Hoseok, and he thought…

There were different kinds of fate, Jin had said. Though he felt silly, though he felt traitorous, he couldn’t help but think there was one fate behind him, and another right by his side.

Well—one right in front of him, now. A calf had wandered close to the fence and Hoseok was cooing at it, reaching in to let it sniff his hand, making a horribly disgusted face when it licked him but giving it a pat before pulling away and looking at Jungkook with desperation on his face.

Jungkook couldn’t stop giggling as he got the wet wipes Hoseok kept in the glove box, helping him get the slobber off.

Hoseok’s phone chimed and he pulled it out, snorting at whatever he saw. “I’ve been accused of Jungkookie-napping.”

“Is it an accusation if it’s true?”

Hoseok made a faux-offended noise and Jungkook grinned. “Can we take a selfie? I have to brag.”

“I’m not much to brag about, hyung,” he said, even as he came closer, even as he allowed himself to be tucked to his side so he would fit in frame, even as he pressed himself closer without even thinking, even as Hoseok took a slew of pictures, even when he quickly flipped through them and Jungkook saw the way Hoseok was looking at him, like he couldn’t help himself, his eyes soft and his hair pretty and the both of them framed by the oranging sky.

“Ready to go home?” Hoseok asked.

“No,” Jungkook said. “But I will anyway.”

Hoseok grinned and touched his hair and touched his cheek and his touch felt like he was already home. “Okay.” His hand fell away and Jungkook nearly, nearly keened. “Okay. Let’s go, sweetheart.”

The pet name fell out easily and Jungkook nearly fell with it.

“Okay,” he said quietly. They were quiet as they drove back, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. It was just a natural, lingering silence, both of them not-really-thinking, lost in the fuzzy softness that had taken over them both.

Jimin met them at the door with a put-upon lecture about curfew and safety and how dare he take his little Jungkookie without even texting, but Jungkook paid him no mind. It seemed that Hoseok didn’t either, much to Jimin’s less-put-upon ire.

“I’ll see you later, Kook-ah,” he said. As an afterthought, “You too, Jimin.”

Hoseok closed the door and interrupted Jimin’s huffing, but Jimin let him go. He fell quiet and suspicious as soon as Hoseok disappeared, turning to Jungkook with an assessing look. “And how was your day, Jungkookie?” he asked, and it felt loaded.

But Jungkook felt too light to care. “It was really nice. Hyung took me on a drive. We saw some cows.”

Jimin raised his brows. “Is that all?”

“Well—we had some mango and watermelon, too. And we went to the store!”

Jimin’s face softened. “Ah, you had a brave day, then, didn’t you?” Jungkook nodded, not minding that he sounded like he was talking to a pup. He felt like a pup often, especially when he started realizing just how much he didn’t know. “I’m glad. Hoseokie-hyung treated you well?”

Jungkook blinked. Of course he did, he wasn’t sure if it was possible for him to not. “Yes?”

“Good.” Jimin took his hand and squeezed it, giving him another long look before smiling. “Go wash up, sweetheart,” which sounded much, much different from his lips, “Joonie will be home in half an hour and dinner should be ready just after that.”

“Oh!” Jungkook frowned, taking Jimin’s other hand. “I’m sorry, hyung, I meant to help—”

“Ah, you’re too sweet for us, Jungkookie,” Jimin smiled. “I can manage on my own, don’t you worry about that.”

“Still,” Jungkook said, but Jimin let out a practiced wave of comforting Jasmine and Jungkook’s guilt faded enough to be manageable before it could overtake him.

“Hush. Go on, I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

Jungkook nodded and went, and he found that even after he scrubbed clean, he still smelled yuzu like it was his own.

-

“Jungkook-ah,” Namjoon said one afternoon, finding him in Hoseok’s yard, lounging on the hammock once more. Hoseok was stretching on a mat he’d laid out, and didn’t even see when Jungkook gathered the courage and curiosity to glance at him, at his lithe muscles and flexibility and contentment and sometimes strain on his face.

Jungkook looked at Namjoon in alarm, but he hadn’t caught him either.

“Hi, Hoseok-ah,” Namjoon said, but he was clearly there for Jungkook. “You’re staying, right?”

Jungkook blinked, furrowing his brows. He’d already had lunch with Jimin, and he knew Hoseok had a late class he had to leave for in two hours. “Sorry?”

“Oh—I mean you’re staying here, right? With us? Or—” he blinked, like he hadn’t even considered it, “or would you like us to find you other lodgings? There are—there are omega-only complexes, uh—”

“Joon,” Hoseok interrupted.

Jungkook stared at Namjoon. The thought of leaving hadn’t crossed his mind, though he felt selfish all at once for not having considered it. He was in Jimin and Namjoon’s house, taking up their space, their food, their kindness, without having anything to offer in return. He’d taken his new life for granted, forgetting himself, forgetting that this wasn’t his pack, it wasn’t—

“We’d like you to stay,” Namjoon said, his voice alpha-firm without being commanding. Jungkook couldn’t disbelieve him if he wanted to. “Please.”

“I—” Jungkook said, feeling smaller than he had in weeks. “Are you—are you sure?”

“Joon-ah,” Hoseok said again, glancing at Jungkook before looking at Namjoon pointedly.

Did Hoseok want him to stay? Jungkook felt nauseous. Did Hoseok want him to leave? If he had been encroaching on Jimin and Namjoon, he hadn’t even been invited into Hoseok’s space, not really, he didn’t ask for him to be here—

“You can have all the time in the world to consider it,” Namjoon said slowly, looking from Hoseok to Jungkook, “and if you decide against it, we would never hold it against you, nor would it necessitate you leaving if you want to stay. But I ask humbly and with no ill intention that you join our pack.”

Jungkook stared at him, blatant and bold. “What?”

Namjoon bowed to him, bowed, low—

“Jungkook-ssi, as pack alpha, I ask that you do us the honor of joining our pack.”

Jungkook stared at Namjoon before glancing over at Hoseok, catching his eye. Hoseok was looking at him, breath held, clear and obvious hope in his eyes.

“Please, take your time to think—” Namjoon started.

“Yes,” Jungkook interrupted. “Please. I-I would—I would be honored, alpha.”

Very much unlike an alpha, Namjoon beamed, eyes crinkling at the corners, his scent flooding out with delight. He knelt in front of the hammock to take Jungkook’s hands in his own, encompassing them, kissing his knuckles. “I’ll do everything in my power to be a good pack alpha for you, Jungkook. You’re an incredible omega, I’m so glad to have you—”

He would have raved for an hour and Jungkook didn’t think he was being full of himself to believe so, but Hoseok stopped him with a gentle squeeze to his shoulder. “I think your mate would like to know.”

Namjoon looked to him with wide eyes. “Oh—do you mind if I tell him, Jungkookie?”

“I—” Jungkook blinked. “Of course not. Just—is—am I allowed to stay in your house? I’m not sure if—”

“If I brought news that you were staying and leaving in the same day, Jimin may actually have my head.”

Jungkook let out a giggle. “I—I would like to stay. If alpha will allow it.”

“Omega is the one you have to be concerned with, Jungkook-ah, Jimin would throw me out before he would let you go.”

“Go tell Jimin, Joonie,” Hoseok said, giving him a nudge. Namjoon offered him another few low bows as he backed away, leaving Jungkook and Hoseok to look at each other in silence.

“I didn’t expect that,” Jungkook said eventually, quiet and more than a little awe-struck. He wasn’t even confident that it was real. “Did that—did I make it up?”

“It would be odd for me to know what you were talking about if you did,” Hoseok said. He took Namjoon’s abandoned spot, kneeling in front of him and sitting back on his heels. He didn’t touch, though, just looked up at him, yuzu and honeysuckle gently intermingling, without surges or waves or anything but the natural air around them. “I’m glad you said yes.”

“I—” Jungkook frowned, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “I feel a little silly,” he admitted. “I forgot—I forgot I wasn’t.”

Instead of poking fun at his cockiness or scolding him for presumption, Hoseok smiled, heart-shaped, beautiful, radiant, happy. “You’re part of us already. It’s like—mm.”

Jungkook glanced at him and Hoseok put his arms over Jungkook’s knees, looking up at him. How odd, Jungkook thought, to look down at the sun.

Jungkook swallowed, searching his eyes as he spoke. “Like I was meant to be here?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” Hoseok breathed, truth and relief in his body and voice. “Exactly. Like you were meant to be here.”

Jungkook licked his lips and pushed his luck, nudging it closer and closer, to what, though, he didn’t know. “With you?”

“With us,” Hoseok agreed. His breath shook, his eyes never left Jungkook’s. “With me.”

“With you,” Jungkook said. There wasn’t anything left to say. Birds chirped, citrus and floral bloomed, the sky was endless around them, and Jungkook—Jungkook was home.

-

Dinner was at Jimin and Namjoon’s that week, three months after Namjoon had brought Jungkook home. Jungkook had helped, of course, and preened as subtly as he could when the dishes he’d made by himself were praised, and blushed brightly when Hoseok’s ankle knocked his under the table. He was able to talk the same way they did, now. Jimin and Taehyung were arguing, Yoongi and Jin and Namjoon were talking about something he didn’t understand, but Hoseok was looking at him.

“I’ve been thinking,” Jungkook said, poking at the cake Yoongi had made, urging himself to stop feeling so full from a great dinner so he could fully enjoy it.

“Yeah?”

Jungkook pursed his lips and nodded. “I think—I think I was wrong about more than I thought.” He furrowed his brows. “I think I was taught wrong more than I thought.”

“Want to talk about it?” Hoseok asked, casual and warm, and Jungkook knew there was no pressure. 

But there was pressure, just from inside of his chest, needing to get it out there after days and weeks of thinking, worrying, dreaming, trying and succeeding in convincing himself that it was real and true.

“I don’t—” he took a deep breath. 

He thought of the trial he’d testified at the week before, at the look of pure hatred that the Alpha sent him as he spoke, at the way he didn’t feel that same fury echo painfully in his bite as it had before. He thought of the way he felt Hoseok’s emotions, sometimes, tinges of happiness or laughter or even frustration, and there was absolutely no bite to speak of there. He thought of being mated, of being scared, of being rescued—

“I don’t think I was fated to the Alpha,” he said, and the conversations around him didn’t still, no one but Hoseok was paying attention, but he felt comforted by their presence all the more because of it. It was the second time he’d admitted it out loud. The first was as he stared at himself in the foggy bathroom mirror, his hair cut to his ears, shorter than it had been since he was three.

“I wasn’t fated to the Alpha,” he whispered, staring at himself, trying to see the truth in his eyes. He found it. “I’m not his.”

Hoseok nodded and hummed, an agreement and an encouragement.

“It’s hard to stop believing something you’ve been told your entire life,” Jungkook said, finally taking a bite of the cake. It tasted sweet and perfect, even though the thought of the bite on his neck was almost bitter enough to overcome it. Almost. “But I don’t believe it anymore.”

“Do you believe something else?” Hoseok asked. It wasn’t leading, but it was curious, and Jungkook thought that there might have been something akin to hope in his eyes.

“Yes,” Jungkook said simply. He ate his cake.

-

“What do you see when you look at me?” he asked Hoseok, sitting cross legged on Hoseok’s living room floor, rain hitting the windows. 

Hoseok had laughed when Namjoon said “We needed this,” when he came to ask Jungkook to come to his house, but Jungkook thought he was right. The plants did, after a hot week, and he felt like people needed to be watered just as much. The sound of rain, the feeling of fresh water on his face as they walked over, both of them forgoing the umbrella Hoseok had brought—it was needed and beautiful. And the way Hoseok brushed the drops away with his thumbs when they got inside—

Hoseok looked at him, and needed no time to think. “The universe.”

Jungkook felt light-headed and wonderfully grounded all at once, warm with joy and cold with unavoidable nerves, as he looked at Hoseok with all the stars of the universe in his eyes.

Then he frowned, pouting. “Hyung!”

Hoseok showed visible fear all at once, yuzu going worriedly bitter in the air.

“I was going to say I see the world when I look at you,” Jungkook huffed. “The universe is bigger. I forgot about it.”

Fear remained for just a moment before Hoseok processed what he’d said, a bright smile taking over his face, a laugh breaking out. He reached for Jungkook and Jungkook sat beside him, tucking himself into Hoseok’s side and cuddling even closer when he curled around him, burying his nose in his shoulder.

“My Jungkookie,” he said, and Jungkook desperately wanted it to be true. And he was pretty sure that it already was.

“Do you really see the universe?” he asked.

“Do you really see the world?”

Jungkook hummed. “Will you show me pictures of the universe later? I wanna see it, too.”

“Sure, Jungkook-ah. Anything for you.”

-

Jungkook began reading romance books, but only until the characters realized they were in love. Every single book, one after another, working his way through both Yoongi and Namjoon’s shelves, described something that he felt. But then again, they didn’t. No words could compare to the pull he felt, the warmth, the way he felt full, whole, complete around the alpha.

(But, a quiet little voice whispered, late at night, yet another novel closed after a discovery of love. The books about fated mates came the closest.)

“I’m in love with Hoseok-hyung,” he told himself in the mirror. 

He told Jimin so later, and he thought the omega might have cried more than Jungkook had in his life. But that was nothing compared to when he told Hoseok.

“Jungkookie,” he blubbered, taking his face between his hands and looking at him through his tears. “I love you, I’m in love with you, I’ve waited for you my whole life—”

The one, Jimin had said, that was what Hoseok had been waiting for. Jungkook had never been one. He’d been one of many, he’d been one of a hundred, he’d been one mate but not the one, one omega but not the only, one tiny star in a black sky with others dotted just out of reach—but Hoseok saw the universe.

Jungkook kissed him, lips a little chapped, completely unsure of what he was doing or how to do it. But Hoseok kissed him back, so gentle and slow and loving that Jungkook didn’t know how to handle it all. He chose to let it roll around in his mouth, yummy and sweet, and hoped Hoseok could taste just how much he felt the same.

When Jungkook said he was scared of mating, Hoseok listened. He hadn’t even been pressing for more, Jungkook just wanted him to know. He wouldn’t push for more, Jungkook knew. He never thought he would. But one day, one day, he really hoped he wouldn’t be scared at all and he could kiss Hoseok and—more, though he blushed terribly at the thought, and could carry his bite. 

Jin hadn’t covered his, but Jungkook thought maybe he would. It was fading quickly, it would leave nothing but a trace—but Hoseok’s would never go away. He would never want it to. 

-

It was slow. It was Jungkook bringing his favorite pillow to Hoseok’s bed, it was Hoseok trying to act like Jungkook wearing his clothes was no big deal, it was Jungkook’s thrifted mugs and trinkets not even seeing Jimin and Namjoon’s home, finding a place on Hoseok’s shelves and cabinets before they could.

It was Hoseok kissing him goodnight as he walked him home, it was Jungkook kissing him good morning when he woke in Hoseok’s bed, it was Hoseok’s bed becoming their bed becoming their nest, his home becoming their home, Hoseok's life and Jungkook’s life becoming their life, singular and shared.

It was honeysuckle and yuzu becoming one in the same; it was Hoseok’s students saying hi to Jungkook by name; it was morning stretches and nighttime cuddles and Jungkook meeting his eyes and Hoseok tracing his nose and throwing modesty aside to be close, as close as they could mange. In all ways.

It was Hoseok’s teeth sinking into Jungkook’s neck, a euphoria he had never felt radiating from the bite, a sunburst, an explosion, a tidal wave that sealed them together. It was Jungkook biting him back without a thought of what an omega should and should not do, without a thought of impropriety, without a thought of what he had been taught. It was Jungkook frowning at the light indents his teeth had made and Hoseok laughing and pinching his cheeks and kissing his omega fangs and promising that they made a lasting mark anyways.

It was the world, it was the universe, it was Jungkook and Hoseok and Hoseok and Jungkook, and it was easier than breathing, easier than a heart beat, easier than the breeze that kissed their cheeks by the creek and the flowing water they walked through and the sun that warmed them dry when they laid out on a blanket.

It was Jungkook rubbing aloe into the sunburn on the back of Hoseok’s thighs when they fell asleep there, patting his ass and giggling and knowing that Hoseok’s whining was not an objection at all.

It was I love you and I love you and I’m in love with you and I waited for you and I’m right here and We’re going to spent the rest of our lives together, isn’t that crazy? Isn’t that perfect? Isn’t that what was meant for us from the very start, from our very births, from the very beginning of time? Aren’t we lucky to have found each other in this world, aren’t we lucky to be here together, aren’t we lucky to breathe the same air and sleep in the same nest and be one in the same? It was No, we aren’t lucky for that, we’re lucky that fate knew what she was doing.

-

“Hyung,” Jungkook said, his legs thrown over Hoseok’s lap. 

They’d been quiet for the past half hour, going between scrolling on their phones and looking at the gently flickering fire Jungkook had lit in the fireplace. It was just cold enough to justify it now, and he was looking forward to a long season of warm nights snuggled up in front of it. Just like this.

Hoseok hummed, rubbing Jungkook’s ankle.

“I love you.”

Hoseok looked at him, no surprise in his eyes, only warmth that rivaled the fire. It wasn’t a rival, though, not really. Jungkook felt it encompass him, inside and out, keeping him nice and warm and safe. Yuzu met honeysuckle and everything felt right.

“I love you, Jungkook-ah,” Hoseok said.

They looked at each other for a moment more, warmth and love and devotion radiating, before they went back to their own distractions. Nothing more needed to be said, nothing more needed to be felt. Just Jungkook playing with Hoseok’s hand, Hoseok playing with Jungkook’s ankle, the fire crackling pretty and quiet, and the solid sense of I know, I know, I know.