Chapter Text
Seungcheol woke up to someone singing.
The voice was harmonious, melodic, filtering through his dream. Too loud for the hour if the pale light coming from his closed eyelids was of any indication.
He shifted on the bed, and his nose nuzzled someone’s forehead. Peach and honeysuckle flooded his senses, and he stirred, seeking more of it.
He moved as he nuzzled deeper into the source, and ended up almost draped on top of the figure next to him.
“Heavy,” a hand swatted him away, voice blurred with sleep. “Move.”
Seungcheol grunted, sheets tangled between his legs as he tried to wake up. He didn’t want to.
His hand was pressed against a warm back, a small waist pulled flushed against him, still warm with sleep.
The singing grew louder, and a second voice joined.
Seungcheol opened his eyes.
In his arms, Jeonghan had fallen asleep again, tucked against him. Long dark hair splayed, lashes fanning out against his cheeks.
The Omega’s contentment was a warm pulse in Seungcheol’s chest, echoed by the sleepy pulses of the rest of the pack.
His mouth sought Jeonghan’s neck, inhaling at his bite. The action settled something in him.
The singing stopped for a second as something clattered, and then it resumed amongst giggles.
He sighed in defeat.
Rubbing his eyes and not without nuzzling at Jeonghan’s forehead one last time, he got up from the bed.
He looked back as he left his room, smoothing out his hair.
Jeonghan laid in the center of the bed as if he owned it, burrowed deep into the covers as if it was his personal nest and not Seungcheol’s bed. His sleep shirt had once, months ago, belonged to Seungcheol.
He ignored the impulse to return to the bed.
Stumbling, he made his way to the kitchen, drawn in by the voices singing.
“Hyung,” Chan looked too happy for someone awake that early. He was sitting on the counter, legs swinging.
Seokmin’s mouth curled into a smile as he saw him walk in, still singing as he boiled water. A selection of mismatched mugs in front of him.
Chan opened his arms, and Seungcheol walked into them, pressing his cheek against their youngest Omega’s head for a moment.
“We had a rule about singing,” Seungcheol yawned, stretching his hand to rub Seokmin’s exposed wrist, projecting his own scent; sandalwood and dark cherries.
The song turned sweeter as it seeped into him, the thread that belonged to Seokmin glowing in their bond.
“The rule said after six am,” Seokmin sang, and waved the frothing wand towards the clock on the wall.
Six seven am.
“You two,” Seungcheol huffed, stepping out of Chan’s embrace. “The one time we have a morning off…”
He grabbed one of the filled mugs and sipped. From the window and their location up high, one could see the city, Seoul waking up as they did.
He didn’t have his phone with him, but he knew a barrel of texts waited for him.
He forced himself to relax, to sink into the chair and let the scent of his pack ground him.
Morning off, he thought to himself as he took another sip.
Seokmin’s singing turned to humming as Seungkwan entered the kitchen, hair sticking out. He pressed his cheek to Seungcheol’s neck in passing, a blend of tangerine and vanilla poring from him in greeting.
Almost immediately, Soonyoung and Mingyu appeared; the tall Alpha clinging to the back of the Beta as if using him as a pillow.
“Whoever woke me now has to make me breakfast. I’m not cooking,” Mingyu mumbled, nuzzling the back of Soonyoung’s shirt and his neck.
“Seokmin,” Seungcheol replied, offering his wrist to both.
Soonyoung slapped his own wrist in passing, but Mingyu encircled it with his own hand for a second before dropping it.
Seokmin protested, because Chan had been singing too. To which immediately, Chan replied that waiting for it to be six am had not been his idea, so clearly, it wasn’t his fault. By then, Seungkwan piped in that of course, it was Chan’s fault too.
Soonyoung had simply slumped on the kitchen table, almost asleep again and uncaring of the fighting around him. Mingyu grabbed a mug, and began to rummage through the cupboards, knowing he wouldn’t get any food unless he cooked it himself.
Used to the noise, and the bickering, Seungcheol ignored them.
He knew when to step in and when not. Knew, felt, when they were genuinely fighting and offended.
He closed his eyes, hand holding onto the warm cup of coffee, and in his awareness, felt most of his pack still asleep, enjoying having the morning off and rest they deserved.
Bright, warm bonds, tethered to him.
Seungcheol stayed like that for a while, eyes closed, not quite asleep. But feeling.
He knew Minghao had joined them when he felt the soft scent of tea leaves and bamboo on his nose, when someone murmured a good morning to him in his ear in passing, fingers brushing the back of his neck.
The phone, the schedule of the rest of the day faded as he sank into the feeling of pack. Home.
“They’re bullying me,” Seokmin said.
“Welcome to my life,” Chan replied.
And yet, the feelings persisted. He was Seventeen’s leader, and the Pack Alpha. There was no morning or day off, not for him, not truly.
He began to almost itch to get up from the chair and get his phone when two thin arms wrapped around his neck, hair brushing his cheek.
“Cheollie,” Jeonghan whispered in his ear, the warmth of sleep from his body emanating from him.
As the Omega’s scent flooded his senses, Seungcheol opened his eyes, slumping back against him like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Jeonghan stood next to him, still in the sleep shirt, which, if on Seungcheol himself looked oversized, on him it dwarfed him. His legs were bare, socks uneven.
Seungcheol swallowed, and something pulsed in his chest. Warm and gold, spreading.
Jeonghan looked at him, amused, as Seungcheol tried to regain his footing.
“Morning,” he managed to say.
“More,” Jeonghan pushed the empty mug that Seungcheol had been drinking from towards him. At some point, everyone that had been in the kitchen had left, leaving them alone. “Eat with me.”
Seungcheol stood up, and he prepared a proper breakfast for them both before they had to do the morning rounds to wake up whoever wasn’t ready yet.
Jeonghan kept close, brushing at his elbow or hands with a fingertip.
It wasn’t until it was almost noon that he realized that he had forgotten about his phone and his responsibilities the moment Jeonghan had held him.
They stood in perfect formation in front of the mirror.
Four at the front, five in the middle, and four at the back.
In the practice room, there was no makeup, no fancy outfits, no pretence.
Just them, moving in unison to the music.
Thirteen hearts beating in tandem, footsteps synchronized by years of practice and closeness.
At the back, Seungcheol adjusted his beanie down before following along.
Soonyoung led them, as he often did, his movements as fluid as water. Dancing as easy as breathing for him.
Some of them were like that, like Chan and Hansol, naturally effortless and cool in the way they moved.
Seungcheol had to work for it. And he did it with joy, grateful he got to do what he loved with his pack.
When the beat changed, he shuffled forward, thirteen footsteps smacking the wooden floor at the same time.
He ended up in the middle, moving his hips to the sides, and when he stretched his arms, he almost brushed Jisoo's, who was next to him.
In the wall-to-wall mirror in front of them, he saw Jun almost poke Wonwoo's glasses.
“Okay, let's change that part,” Soonyoung said, blond hair messy from the amount of times he had run his hands through it. His muted Beta scent, green apples, and citrus, laced with sweat.
“What if we spin?” Chan asked, looking at him.
Seungcheol looked around the room.
In the five seconds they had stopped, Jeonghan and Wonwoo had sat on the floor, the Omegas sighing dramatically as if exhausted after two hours of practice; Jeonghan mostly, but Wonwoo followed along.
He caught Minghao looking at them like he wanted to join them. Even Hansol was swaying on the spot, as if thinking whether he wanted to rest or not.
“Five-minute break,” Seungcheol announced. And he looked at Soonyoung, not trying to undermine him. “While you change that part.”
There was a little pressure on the bond, as if the Beta was thanking him in silence.
After years of practice and working together, he didn't need to remind them to hydrate, to stretch.
But it was a certain pleasure for him to look after his mates. It required a balance, not to smother them, and not to pull away either.
Seungcheol knew that if it was up to him, he would do anything for them. In every way.
Mingyu's gray shirt was dark with sweat, and Seungcheol handed him a towel, even going as far as wiping his forehead.
If it was anybody else, he would've gotten teased. An Alpha looking after another Alpha, someone younger, and bigger, and stronger.
But Mingyu simply murmured thanks, hyung, flashing a small smile, fangs peeking out.
Jisoo was rubbing his own thighs, so Seungcheol helped him stretch, careful to massage the tight muscles.
“Thanks,” he said, eyes crinkling. He squeezed Seungcheol’s hand for a second, aligning their wrists and scent glands.
Even in oversized clothes and sweating, he still looked pretty, eyes shining.
Seungcheol looked around the room, noticing his pack.
“The five-minute break is for you too,” Jisoo added, leaning on the wall to keep stretching. “Go and sit, please.”
As the oldest Beta, and technically co-co-leader, Jisoo had every right to call him out and order him around. Still, he never did. His words always sounding as suggestions, gentle reminders.
“Fine,” he conceded.
He snagged a water bottle and dropped to the floor, back against the wall.
Soonyoung and Chan had almost seemed to have figured out how to fix the choreography, nodding to themselves as they spun. Jihoon remained close, watching them dance attentively, fingers tapping on his thigh at some invisible beat.
Jeonghan had Seungkwan in his arms, squishing their cheeks together. Seungkwan was pouting, but there was joy in his eyes, because all the attention of the Pack Omega was on him; his favorite Omega hyung holding him.
Wonwoo had not moved, laying down and staring at the ceiling as Hansol checked out his phone next to him.
Minghao had finally sat down, fiddling with the hem of his shirt as Jun massaged his shoulders.
Even Seokmin seemed tired, humming the song they were practicing as he sipped water.
Seungcheol closed his eyes, resting his head on the wall and stretching out his legs.
The cool water went down his throat as he relaxed.
With a tour coming up, he had to take every moment of rest he was given. Practice, photoshoots, concepts…
He rested his hand on his middle as he took a deep breath.
He was here with his pack, and practice was going well. He was with them, with his family.
Letting the feeling sink in, he moved his hands towards his chest, the place where years ago, their bond had taken root.
It wasn’t a physical thing, but he had always felt the twelve bonds he had created on his chest, near his heart; a steady source of warmth and joy and love.
He pressed down, seeing the teethers twinkle, responding to him. Alive, eager, feeding back the joy and calm he had projected on them.
Onto them he poured his pride. Because despite the years, he had never taken for granted being their Alpha, their leader.
His fingers tapped at his chest.
Seungcheol opened his eyes.
The room was utterly silent, no one practising or chattering or stretching.
Twelve pairs of eyes locked onto him.
And one by one, they moved towards him.
He had projected too hard, he realized. He had years of practice to block his feelings or at least control them, as the core of the pack, the bonds went through him.
Like magnets, drawn by an invisible call, they moved.
Minghao and Jun were the closest ones to him, so they simply ended up hugging his left leg.
Jisoo dropped next to him, forehead on his shoulder.
Somehow, Mingyu ended up sprawled next to him, with Seokmin on his stomach, the Beta managing to touch the sleeve of Seungcheol’s hoodie.
Seungkwan and Hansol laid down at his feet, their youngest Alpha holding onto his calf.
One of his arms was free, so Wonwoo ended up there, smiling at him with Chan in his arms, both Omegas radiating warmth.
Seungcheol ended up moving properly on the floor, so they would have more room.
Nobody spoke as Jihoon settled his head next to his, humming as their hairs touched, Soonyoung throwing an arm around until he managed to touch a bit of skin from Seungcheol’s neck.
Pack, his heart said.
He felt almost drunk by their scents. They didn't often lie down in a pile, too addictive, too relaxing.
As they moved, their scents reached him, steadied him. His bones settled.
Seungcheol looked with half-lidded eyes as Jeonghan moved, claiming the only free spot on his other arm.
His Pack Omega had joined him, and he rumbled, the sound immediately echoed by the other Alphas.
Jeonghan smiled at him. He moved his hand, and somehow, in the pile of bodies and clothes, their hands met.
Seungcheol laced their fingers and didn't let go.
Mine, his heart said.
Jeonghan let out the softest purr, just for him, settling his nose at the base of Seungcheol's neck.
The place where Seungcheol carried his bite.
He shivered.
Seungcheol had bitten everyone, created the mating bond twelve times, looping it in one glowing link. But it was Jeonghan as Pack Omega that had sealed it by biting him back; his teeth leaving an unique imprint in the Alpha's neck.
Alpha and Omega. Beginning and end.
Thirteen hearts beating in unison, breathing in sync.
Seungcheol gave him a gentle nuzzling at his hairline in return, inhaling.
“Hao, you are poking me with your rings,” Jun said.
“Yah, you big baby,” Minghao scoffed, somewhere near him.
Seungcheol sighed, the spell of the moment broken.
“I'm literally one of the tallest here. How can I be a baby?”
“I'm the tallest,” Mingyu piped in, voice muffled, as he had moved at some point and gotten lost under Seungkwan.
Jisoo sighed, as if he had heard this before.
“If anything,” Jun continued, “I'm like a baby cat.”
He put up two downward fingers towards his head, creating fake cat ears.
“Meow,” Jihoon said, in a flat tone.
Seungcheol burst into laughter, squeezing Jeonghan’s hand, the Omega giggling.
Despite them having been training for hours, and that his hair was stuck to his forehead, Jeonghan seemed to glow.
His beauty and joy from within manifesting outwards.
There was a squeeze on his hand, as if even without saying anything, he had said everything.
“Okay, break over,” Seungcheol said, looking away from him, so as not to get lost in his thoughts.
“Five more, hyung,” Wonwoo said quietly, and because he never asked for anything, Seungcheol didn't add anything else.
He simply enjoyed the extra five minutes of puppy pile with his family.
Living with thirteen people was a logistical challenge in many ways.
More often than not, it meant arguing about food.
Seungcheol grabbed his bag, freshly showered from practice. Around him, the rest of the pack followed suit.
His muscles still hurt faintly, the soreness and exhaustion of practicing for hours.
As they prepared to leave the rehearsal room, the arguing began.
“I’m hungry.”
“We should get burgers.”
“I’m not cooking them,” someone replied.
Seungcheol met Jeonghan’s eyes. The assumption people had that these were their kids wasn’t too far off.
“I’m on a diet,” Jisoo said, “I have a photoshoot in two days.”
“I know a place,” Hansol had his phone out, hood covering his head.
“Maybe we can…” Seungcheol started, but then he saw Jeonghan struggle with his own bag, so he easily grabbed it, both bags secured on his shoulders.
The pack was still arguing as they made their way to the parking lot, and Jeonghan thanked him with a squeeze on his bicep and a smile.
Seungcheol had to resist the urge to flex his arm for no apparent reason.
“Hansollie, what place is this?” Jeonghan’s light voice cut through the chatter. He rarely rose his voice, at least during discussions, so everyone was attuned when their Pack Omega spoke up.
“It’s a new place. The owner’s cool,” Hansol stood still as he flipped his phone, showing them the screen of a maps location. “I’ve been there. She won’t tell anyone, and they have private rooms that can fit us all.”
He looked up and met Seungcheol’s eyes, steady and calm.
Something passed between them, unspoken, and Seungcheol nodded.
The van waited for them, individual cars rarely used unless it was for private schedules. Once, Seungkwan’s car had taken a wrong turn, and the Omega had ended up calling everyone in tears, convinced he was being kidnapped.
It had been terrifying for Seungcheol to feel his fear through the bond; real threat or not.
Since then, they all traveled together.
The restaurant ended up being a gray building nestled between a coffeshop and a pizza spot. It wasn’t the most touristy of places, but still everyone came out wearing masks, covering their necks and heads.
It was instinctual to move as one, to protect themselves. Thirteen people always drew attention.
Hansol went in first, bowing to the hostess, he said something to her and she nodded, motioning at someone in the back.
Jeonghan grabbed Chan’s hand and pulled him along, ushering everyone inside. Seungcheol came last, looking behind his shoulder as he followed them into the second floor, a long wooden table with enough chairs waiting for them.
There was no real organization to how everyone sat, never had been, truly. Whoever came first, took whatever spot they wanted.
Though everyone usually left Seungcheol the head of the table out of respect, he never imposed the rule.
And so, when Jihoon claimed one end of the table and Seokmin the other, he ended up in the middle, and somehow seated between Jeonghan and Hansol.
He let him take the lead when ordering, but he knew the servers looked at him every time they brought the plates, cups, and the small grills.
They could sense Hansol wasn’t the pack leader, but him. Wondering why he was letting him order, speak for the rest of the pack.
He squeezed at his shoulder when the food started to come out, and Hansol let out a tiny sigh.
The table became a cachopony of noise as everyone rushed to serve themselves. Rice, grilled meat, steamed vegetables.
Someone let out a pleased sound at the aroma, and Seungcheol felt it in his chest.
He sat back against the chair, arm around the back of Jeonghan’s.
Yet nobody started eating, not until Seungcheol took a small portion of rice with his chopsticks and chewed carefully.
Not because he was the oldest, he was. Because he was the pack leader, Alpha leader.
And even though he hadn’t grown up in a traditionalist pack, many of his mates had, and so they still showed towards him the respect one used to present for all Alpha pack leaders in the past.
He had long stopped asking them to start eating without him first.
They never did it out of fear, but out of love.
“Is it spicy?” he asked, looking at the dumpling stew in front of him as everyone started properly eating.
Mingyu, seated across from him, mumbled something with his mouth full.
“He said no,” Soonyoung said, serving kimchi onto his bowl.
The table became chaotic, the clutter of chopsticks and drinks being poured.
“The food is good,” Chan gave Hansol a thumbs up, and Seokmin echoed the sentiment by raising two thumbs, cheeks full of food.
Hansol smiled, and Seungcheol nudged him with his knee.
By the time he served himself twice from the stew, he found himself examining the pieces of pork on the grill, selecting the least charred ones and dropping them on Jeonghan’s mostly empty plate.
“You are barely eating,” he defended himself at Jeonghan’s raised eyebrow.
“I eat,” Jeonghan replied, tucking his hair behind his ear. But he took the given pieces and put them in his mouth.
He made a delighted mmm sound as he chewed, and Seungcheol felt himself twitch, as if watching him eat what he had offered him had set off something in him.
“Can I get one too?” Seungkwan asked, putting his plate up.
“You’re too far.” Seungcheol shrugged. “Ask Jun. He’s closer.”
Seungkwan gasped.
“Hyung, it’s next to you! I swear! Only Jeonghan hyung…”
Whatever he was going to say got interrupted because Hansol dropped a few pieces of the perfectly cooked pork onto the offered plate.
Beaming, Seungkwan almost held the plate back to his chest protectively.
By the time he had eaten three times, Seokmin made a joke, and Seungcheol found himself leaning against Jeonghan, his nose brushing at his neck while his chest shook with laughter.
He was full. In so many ways. From the food, from the love and contentment emanating from his pack.
He didn’t realize he had been trailing his fingers up and down Jeonghan’s bare arm until Minghao gave him a look over the rim of his bowl.
Seungcheol sat up straighter, scraping the bottom of his own bowl, head down.
Jeonghan’s sneaker brushed his calf, and he turned to look at him questioningly.
He met his eyes, and for a moment the noise and chatter became background, and he only saw him, heard him.
“Are you okay?” Jeonghan asked, tilting his head.
“Yes,” he swallowed, looking at the mating bite peeking out from the Omega’s shirt collar.
Jeonghan looked at him, and he put his hand on Seungcheol’s thigh, leaning closer.
“You know you can tell me everything,” he whispered, just for them, and Seungcheol stopped breathing. He had spoken with him a million times, and yet… “It’s not a burden for me to listen to you.”
Seungcheol covered his hand with his, getting lost in his gaze.
“Because you’re my Pack Omega,” he heard himself say, pouting like he had been drinking and his tongue loosened, but it was a stupid thing to say, when he knew Jeonghan didn’t see him as just a role, a task to do.
“No,” Jeonghan frowned, and his voice turned sweeter, “because you’re my Cheol.”
Seungcheol heard his own heartbeat in his ears and wondered if everyone felt the echo of it in their bond.
“And I’m your Hannie,” Jeonghan pulled away, mischief in his eyes as he smiled.
Sound came rushing back to him, the voices of his pack flooding his ears. He realized he was still holding his hand, immobile.
He wanted to say something witty too, but of the two of them, Jeonghan was the clever one with a honey mouth and fast brain.
So he did the only thing he knew how to do.
He nuzzled at their joined hands, projecting his scent on Jeonghan’s pulse point, and added nothing else; letting his scent speak for itself.
Mine. Yours.