this night together - chapter seven (j.yh + s.mg)
chapter seven: any time now
chapter summary: things are finally back to normal, but how long can that really last?
warnings: references to a/b/o dynamics such as heat and knotting and designations, general reader horny thoughts, masturbation
notes: major love for everyone who's been so patient while i worked on this chapter and this fic in general. i've been going through it recently, but hopefully this is a little fun one before we get back to the smut and angst ♡
pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader.......... but we're also featuring some alpha!seonghwa x reader, omega!wooyoung x reader (platonic)
genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory
word count: 9.7K
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“No, no I’m telling you,” Hongjoong asserts, his eyes full of passion as he leans across the table, “Bowie was the greatest artist of our time. Period.”
It's at this exact moment that you can see Seonghwa’s eyes go fuzzy as he realizes he’s introduced two of the more argumentative and passionate people he’s ever met to each other, and now he has to live with the consequences. And it’s not even like you and Hongjoong disagree, in reality you’re mostly just agreeing with each other - just loudly and with excitable hand gestures.
You start going down the deep rabbit hole of Hongjoong’s musical preferences again and Seonghwa starts to look for a natural place to cut in, you can see it on his face, but you’re too focused on debating which of Bowie’s albums is actually the greatest of all time to even care. It’s only the second time you’ve met him, but it clicked with him quickly, and despite barely knowing him, here you are.
“Favorite era?” Hongjoong recaptures your attention and you lean back in your seat.
“This is hard,” You admit.
“Mhm,” Hongjoong takes a sip of his drink and leans forward on the table, “there’s a right answer.”
“Are we talking style or music?” You counter back.
“You two,” Seonghwa groans, “I’m getting a headache,”
“Shush,” Hongjoong slaps his friend’s arm softly, “you wanted us to be friends, right?”
“At what cost,” Seonghwa smirks as he knocks back his drink.
“Style or music,” You repeat, nudging Hongjoong.
“Style,” He narrows his eyes.
“Thin white duke,” You answer with zero hesitation.
“Oh,” Seonghwa laughs, “you would,”
“What?” You laugh, “What could that possibly say about me?”
Seonghwa shrugs but Hongjoong nods, “He’s right,”
“Sure,” You roll your eyes.
“You like a man in a suit, that’s what it says,” Hongjoong laughs, “but I would have picked Berlin era.”
“So we both like a man in a suit,” You nod at him.
“You got me there,” He laughs, running a hand through his shock of blue hair.
“I never hear music like that anymore,” You comment and Hongjoong smiles.
“I’d love to produce something like that,” He admits, “but you need someone with a much stronger vocal range for that.”
Seonghwa nods along, and it’s clear it’s not the first time he’s heard this sentiment from Hongjoong.
“Stronger than the idols KQ has now?” You ask, your eyebrow raised.
He nods, “It’s not that they’re not good, everyone’s very talented and I enjoy working with them… but the chance to work with someone one in a million is different,”
“I could see that,” You concede. You don’t know much about music production or vocal performance, but you know a one in a million voice when you hear it.
“You won’t have to wait long from the buzz I’m hearing,” Seonghwa drops his voice to a bit of a hushed tone even though there’s considerable space between your table and anyone else.
“I’m not holding my breath,” Hongjoong says, “I don’t want to get my hopes up,”
“I know it’s a longshot,” Seonghwa offers, “but I’m hearing good things,”
“Me too,” Hongjoong says, “but nothing’s on paper yet, so you know how these things go.”
“So…” You give them a pointed expression.
“Right,” Seonghwa leans in, “KQ is currently courting a big name from a group that just disbanded,”
“To take on a senior group?”
“No,” Hongjoong shakes his head, “just one of the members, as a solo artist.”
“Oh,” You drop your voice, “who?”
“You can’t say anything,” Seonghwa makes a hand gesture as if to say you’re dead if you do, “but Choi Jongho,”
The pause between the three of you seems weighty, but you don’t know him and you have to admit it with a little shrug, “I’ve never heard of him,”
“What?” Hongjoong shakes his head in disbelief, “I mean that’s crazy,”
“I don’t keep up with it as much as you’d think,”
“I mean,” Hongjoong blinks, “he’s the one in a million, he’s the voice.”
“I believe you,” You nod quickly, “I just don’t know him.”
“Well,” He sighs, “hopefully you will. If our CEO can close the deal,”
“You really want to produce for him that badly? He’s that good?” You ask.
“Without question,” He sighs, “I would kill to write him some R&B,”
“Oh, now there’s a thought,” You lean in.
“You just need so much more vocal texture,” Hongjoong explains, “but if you heard him, you’d get it.”
You nod along.
Hongjoong sighs and leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair again, the silver of his many rings catching in the overhead light, “If he signs we could get an album together for early next year,”
“You really want to work with him that badly?” You nod, “He must be amazing.”
“He is,” Hongjoong hums, “so cross your fingers.”
You do and show him your hand, “Done,”
The server passes by your table and smoothly passes the check towards Seonghwa, but Hongjoong intercepts it with practiced ease and slips his heavier credit card into the billfold before returning it to the server’s waiting hands.
“Thank you,” The server nods, “I’ll be right back with this.”
“Thank you, Joong,” Seonghwa smiles, “next time on me,”
Hongjoong waves his hand and you realize it’s much the same as the last dinner. You wonder just how well producers are paid if this is his casual attitude towards a bill for three people eating rich cuts of meat and having crafted cocktails, but judging from Hongjoong’s lack of concern at the check’s total, he’s paid pretty well.
“Thank you, Hongjoong,” You echo.
“Of course,” Hongjoong smiles, and then the bill is back in his hands to sign off before you’re all up and away out the door.
You walk a little ways with them, in the direction of a much busier block so you can catch a taxi home, all the while Hongjoong and Seonghwa chat about people you’ve yet to meet at the company and old times. They’ve been friends for years, you could gather that even without the download of information Seonghwa gave you after your first dinner out with them. They have an easy way about them that makes you smile, and even though you’re not in on any of these stories or jokes, it still feels comfortable. They both exude cool, in their style and the way they walk and talk, their handsome smiles and the cut of their clothes, but they never stray too far into pretension and it makes you like them both all the more.
When Hongjoong checks his phone briefly as he walks and hums quietly, Seonghwa makes a disappointed noise with his tongue against his teeth.
“What?” Hongjoong glances up.
“Stop thinking about work,” Seonghwa interrupts his brain, “it’s ten o’clock,”
“Normally I’m still working, you know,” Hongjoong tucks his phone away and makes a face.
“You do that to yourself, Joong,” Seonghwa comments.
“I know, I know,” He shrugs, “there’s nothing wrong with working hard.” He swivels his head to you at the same time Seonghwa does.
“Don’t look at me,” You throw up your hands in surrender, “I can’t help you, Hwa, I’m at the studio late every day.”
“I have to stop attracting friends who do nothing but work,” Seonghwa says, but he smiles despite his words.
“Speaking of work,” Hongjoong grins conspiratorially at you, “he said you’re on the choreography team for the new tracks,”
“Yes,” You catch Seonghwa’s pleased eye, “I’m assisting with it,”
“How do you like the title song?” He asks.
“I think it’s an earworm,” You admit, “I’ve been hearing it in my head for days,”
“Not too commercial?” He asks.
“I said it was going to be popular,” Seonghwa groans, “not that it’s commercial,”
“I’m just asking,” Hongjoong throws a hand out to his side to smack Seonghwa’s arm.
“It’s not,” You shake your head vehemently, “it’s just good, and catchy as hell,”
“I can’t wait to see what your team does with it,” Hongjoong admits with a sigh, “I’m proud of this album,”
“I’m looking forward to hearing the whole thing,”
“When it’s finished you should come to the listening party,” He offers, his steps slowing as you make it to the curb of the busier street.
“I would love to,” You smile, and Seonghwa nods.
“You’ll be alright to get home?” Hongjoong asks, turning towards you.
“Absolutely,”
“Let me,” Seonghwa steps past you to the edge of the sidewalk and raises an arm out to beckon a taxi over, and a yellow cab flicks its occupied light on and smoothly cuts over to the side lane.
“Thanks, Hwa,”
“Come out again soon?” Hongjoong asks, “I didn’t even get to my thoughts on 90s music,”
“Anytime,” You smile as Seonghwa opens up the taxi door for you.
“I’ll send you some albums,” He adds.
“I love it,” You nod and move to the open door, catching Seonghwa’s eye as you do.
“See you tomorrow,” He says as you slide into your seat.
“Tomorrow,”
He waits for you to swing your legs inside the car and then shuts the door tight, tapping on the hood and backing away to stand next to Hongjoong. He waves, and as the taxi pulls away they turn to walk back the way you came.
Things stay perfectly in this new status quo for weeks, your life so much fuller and richer than the first few months you worked at KQ and tried to find inroads of friendship. Now you have dinner from time to time with Seonghwa and Hongjoong, drinks with your new dance troupe trio, workouts with San, coffee breaks with Wooyoung, and a growing sense of normalcy with Yunho and Mingi as you get back to work with them.
You’re just starting to get comfortable when your phone reminds you that normal never lasts.
As ever, things change.
The shift starts with the first real peace offering you get from Yunho, weeks after the first night back in the studio with them. You’re buried in your phone trying to map out the dates of your next heat, paying exactly zero attention to your surroundings as you go through the app on your phone that tracks out your cycle symptoms. One that sends you painfully patronizing push notifications like - Hey girlie! Your heat is scheduled to start anytime in the next two weeks! Be sure to drink lots of water!! - complete with a panting red faced emoji. The last person you really want to see at this second is Yunho, or Mingi for that matter, and to be reminded of everything that happened a few months ago, but you’re never quite so lucky.
Yunho’s hand enters your eyeline, dropping a coffee on the table in front of you and you jump at the sudden break in your concentration as you snap your phone lock on and let it slip through your fingers.
“Sorry,” He smiles, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s okay,” You take a steadying breath as you watch him reach for your phone that skid across the floor, “I was just lost in thought,”
“Mm,” He passes the phone back to you and you’re infinitely grateful for your panic response that locked the phone and darkened the screen to save you any more embarrassment, “is everything okay? You seem a little stressed,”
“I’m good,” You assure him.
Adjusting the cap on his head he gestures to the coffee, “Well, either way you looked like you could use one of these,”
“Thank you,” You smile, trying to let the moment be normal. You had missed him bringing you little things. Before your heat he was always checking up on you, delivering water bottles and protein bars and iced americanos. You can’t help but comment on it as you lift the coffee and give it a shake, “it’s been a while,”
“I know,” He grimaces, “I’m sorry,”
“Don’t be,” You brush him off, “I just meant it’s nice, I’m really glad we’re friends again.”
He swallows a little tightly, glancing to his side, and you know being vulnerable like this isn’t really his favorite thing but he’s trying, “I am sorry though,” he says finally, “Mingi and I shouldn’t have let things get so weird. That was… I mean, this is work. We shouldn’t have let it interfere like that, we should have just talked to you.”
“Me too,” You murmur, letting him off the hook, “it goes both ways.”
“Yeah,” He breathes, and then his eyes come up, “but friends? That’s what you want?”
“Of course,” You nod quickly, the sharp idea of going back to barely talking or looking at each other making you queasy, and the past few weeks of working together with them has felt like a weight off your shoulders.
There’s a beat between you, and a noise to your right as the door to the break room opens and bodies spill in. Someone shouts your name, but your eyes are holding so tightly to Yunho that you don’t even know who it was, you don’t really care. You need to know that he’s on the same page.
Yunho nods finally and smiles, “Good, okay, friends,”
Mingi crashes into him from the side with an arm slung over his shoulders and his face lit up in a bright smile, “Hey,”
“Hi,” You smile, watching as Yunho crosses his arms loosely and lets Mingi stay clinging onto him. You catch Mingi’s eyes, “You’re in a good mood today,”
“I guess so,” He shrugs, “it’s a good day,”
The chair to your side moves and your head snaps over to see San flopping down, a freshly mixed protein smoothie in hand, “You’re late,” he comments and you snap a look to your watch.
Fifteen minutes late to your training with him, and you grimace, “Shit, I’m sorry,”
“It’s cool, I’ll just have to remember this when you’re begging to get out of the last set,” His eyebrows quirk up at you playfully.
Mingi makes a quiet noise and when you look back up at him he’s pouting, “You never let me give you training tips,”
“That’s because you hate the gym,” You laugh.
His nose crinkles, “True,”
Yunho laughs at the exchange and shrugs Mingi off and he looks like he’s about to add something to the conversation, but the door opens again and Dahan and Yujin cut their way through the dining area.
Yujin catches your eye and smiles, “Ready for today?”
You nod and try not to seem too terrified, “Definitely,”
“See you at four,” She says, brushing past your table and heading for the coffee stations at the far side of the room.
You let out a shaky breath, one you didn’t know you were holding quite so tightly in your chest and Yunho’s brow knits together, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” You assure him, “it’s just a big day for me,”
“The meeting?” He asks, referring to the session later today where you and the rest of the crew will meet with the girl group members for the first time. You’ve been elected to run them through some of the point choreography, and while everyone will be working together, you’re first and that level of spotlight makes you buzz with anxiety.
“Yeah,” You shrug, trying to stay casual about it, “it’s not that big of a deal, I know, but I’m still nervous,”
“You’ve been working like crazy,” San cuts in, smoothing a hand over your fidgeting fingers to calm you down, “you’re going to be fine, when have you ever choked?”
“You’re right,” You breathe, pulling your hand back and pushing your hair away from your face, “Yujin and Dahan are just very good.” You don’t elaborate, but the idea of teaching choreography in front of them makes your heart thump loudly in your chest.
“You’re very good,” Mingi dismisses instantly with a noise in his throat.
“Thanks, Mingi,”
“It’s first time jitters,” Yunho smiles, “I get them every time we do something new,”
“You do?” Your eyebrows shoot high.
“Mhm,” He nods, “actually, I have an idea,”
“Yeah?”
“Let’s go for a run,” Yunho checks his watch and then nods.
“Yunho,” You glance to San, “I don’t know,”
“It clears my head every time, trust me,” He presses, “something about running outside… it’s definitely going to get you out of your head.”
“Go,” San nods, brushing off your unspoken concern about ditching him.
“You don’t mind?” You check with him.
“Nah,” He grins, pushing himself up to stand and offering you a hand to help you to your feet too, “I’ll just go bother Wooyoung,”
“I’m sure he’ll thank me for that,” You laugh.
“He should be so grateful,” San brushes your arm lightly with his fingers and then gives you a warm smile, “but you go, relax, and text me later.”
“I will,” You nod, and he jogs off.
You twist back to Yunho and Mingi at the sound of a throat clearing and Mingi shifts from foot to foot, “I’d join you on the run, but,”
“You hate running,” Yunho finishes for him, “you’re good,”
“Yeah,”
There’s a beat of silence between the three of you, and then Yunho clears his throat again, “Meet me out front in ten? I just need to change,”
“Sure,” You have to do the same, and idly in the back of your mind you wonder if he’s a good runner, the kind of person who makes it look easy.
“Great,” He smiles and then he’s off.
Mingi watches him go and then shifts his attention back to you, “You’ll be great today,”
“You think?” Your nervousness slips out.
“I know.” He nods, pointed with no room for discussion.
You swallow tightly, but agree anyway.
Mingi guides you back out of the pull of your own thoughts when he claps a hand down on your shoulder as he moves past you and around the table, “Just chill,”
“Chill,” You repeat dumbly.
“Mhm,” He shrugs, quirking up an eyebrow at you as he pushes through the door and away.
You’re used to his naturally flirtatious energy, but even a look that intense from him can send your stomach into little flip flops. Your phone dings again in your pocket, the familiar sound of your cycle app sending you another reminder and you don’t even bother to look and see what it says, your lingering gaze on Mingi is enough to tell you.
Alone in the break room you sigh and run your hands through your hair before shaking the little interaction off and heading out to meet Yunho. By the time you’re out front he’s already there, and you think it’s quite possible that this is the biggest mistake you’ve ever made when you lay eyes on him. He’s dressed comfortably, in shorts and running shoes, but it’s the sleeveless black top that makes your pulse quicken.
“Alright,” He says as he sees you approaching, “let’s do it.”
“Okay,” You stretch out your arms in front of you and do your best to focus on your own body and not his and all the ways you’ve seen it move before.
He waves you along and then starts to run.
You set a pace together with ease, and you’re not sure if it’s Yunho accommodating you or you accommodating him, but either way you fall into step smoothly as you start jogging through the streets of Seoul. He adjusts the black cap on his head and settles his arms into a comfortable running position and he slowly starts to increase the pace, but you match him smoothly right back.
“Do you have a route?” You ask between controlled breaths.
“Yeah,” He nods, gesturing up ahead, “just follow me,”
You murmur your agreement, and then refocus your eyes ahead and not on the man to your side. He’s right, you do need this. Your shoulders have been tense with stress for days, your body tired and feeling jittery, but the steady steps over the pavement and the cool air have your muscles relaxing already. You stay focused on your breath and the rest starts to melt away.
“This way,” He directs after a little while heading straight, and he takes a smooth left turn across a busy intersection where the walk signs are lit up for you.
In the distance is a block of trees marking the start of one of the riverside parks, and you’re sure that’s where he’s running to. You can feel him glancing down at you every so often, making sure you’re still at his side, and it’s oddly comforting to run with him and not alone for once. It’s been a while since you’ve been out like this, you’ve taken to sticking with San in the comfort of the KQ gyms, but with Yunho at your side it feels comfortable and right.
“Good?” He asks as you push over the next street and into the entrance of the trail, hooking through two lines of trees.
“Good,” You confirm, “you?”
He smiles and laughs a little, but keeps running, “Definitely,”
You push on and keep pace, moving down the pathway through the trees, nothing but the sound of each other’s breath for company. Being cocooned in trees, this close to the water, makes you feel insulated from the city and with every step your worries about the meeting later have started to fall away.
You glance to Yunho and see that his eyes are still focused ahead, but you swallow hard at the pink blush across his cheeks and collarbones, the sweat now visible on his tanned skin. You have such a clear image of him above you, broad hand on your cheek and cock buried inside your body, looking flushed and sweaty just as he does now.
“Feeling better?” He asks, not slowing his run at all.
His voice jolts you out of your meandering thoughts, “Hmm?”
“Are you feeling any better?” He tries again, “less stressed?”
“A little,” You concede.
He nods, but keeps moving. The lack of conversation between you both normally feels tight and unnatural, but lately it’s started to feel safe again. He’s always been a person you can just be around, nothing extra, just existing. It finally, finally feels right again.
You make your way a little further into the park until it starts to curve around with the bend of the river. Yunho gestures up ahead to a block of benches that overlook the water and he glances down at you, “Let’s take a breath there and then double back,”
“Yeah,”
As you approach the benches and start to slow, Yunho grins, “It’s gorgeous today,”
“It really is,” You agree, chest heaving a little at the effort from the run and you focus on deep steady inhales and exhales.
He walks past the benches and up to the railing at the water, leaning down and resting his elbows on the dark blue painted steel, “That looks fun,” he comments, gesturing towards a group of boats on the water.
“Mm,” You sigh, leaning next to him, your arms nearly brushing, “especially on a day like today.”
He nods quietly, his eyes closing for a moment as he soaks up the warm sun, and then he turns towards you and leans against the railing with his hip, “So,” he says, “is it first time jitters, or is something else going on?”
“W-what do you mean?” His words break you out of your thoughts again, and you didn’t even realize your mind was slipping away somewhere else, but every time he interrupts you it’s painfully obvious to you that you can’t stop worrying.
“I’ve seen you nervous,” He comments, “this feels like more,”
You shift towards him and look up, “A little, maybe,”
“Tell me,” He prompts you, extending his hand for a fraction of a second before he lets it drop back to his thigh.
Your first thought is that you want to touch him too, but you resist it.
“Teaching these girls,” You trail off, dropping your eyes again to the ripple of the water as it kisses the rocky shore, “something about doing it in front of Yujin and Dahan… and even you,”
“Me?” His voice runs high.
“It’s just scary,” You admit, “I’m sure I’ll get over it.”
“I don’t want to make you scared,” He murmurs.
“It’s not that,” You glance up at him, but it’s safer to keep your focus on the water, “I just…. I don’t know if I belong in that room yet, and today all the attention will be on me. I’ve never taught anyone like this before,”
“Yes, you have,” Yunho finally does touch you, nudging your arm and getting your eyes back on him, “you came up with good stuff for this routine. You taught all of us, and I saw you practicing everything together to show them. You’re ready,”
“You really believe that?” The words slip out.
“y/n,” His brow furrows, “of course I do, I wouldn’t have suggested you in the first place if I thought you couldn’t do this.”
He’s right, you can do this, and with flying colors too if you really set your mind to it, but the question still brews in the back of your brain and you have to ask. “Yunho,” You sigh, “why did you suggest me?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“We weren’t talking,” You explain, “we were barely looking at each other in the studio, but you still pulled me into this project. Why?”
He’s still for a moment, his eyes flicking over your face and then he sighs, “Because you’re good, and because I know how hard you were working even when we weren’t talking. And because,” he pauses, “because I wanted you there,”
“For me or for my skills?”
“For your skills,” He nods, “the fact that it’s you… well, that just made my choice easier.”
“You really mean that, don’t you?” You murmur.
“I do,” He nods, “so be regular nervous all you want, but never doubt your place in the room, okay? I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Thank you, Yunho,”
He nods and looks back out to the water before checking his watch and taking a deep breath, “You ready to head back?”
“Let’s do it,” You agree with a sigh, shaking out your limbs.
“Did this help?” He asks as he pushes off the railing.
“Yeah,” You smile, “I mean, I’m still a little terrified, but I think that’s normal.”
“Mhm,” He smooths his hand across your shoulders and gives you a squeeze, “plus, I promise you can dance circles around these girls any day of the week,”
“Oh, shut up,” You roll your eyes, “now you’re laying it on too thick,”
“I don’t lie,” He grins, “you know that already,”
You open your mouth to retort but he takes the wind right out of your sails when he starts to jog backwards and he sticks his tongue out to tease you. As he twists around he calls back over his shoulder, “Race you back!”
You scramble forwards, “Hey! No fair, you got a head start,”
He keeps running, but you hear him laugh, “Catch up then!”
You pump your legs harder, moving as fast as possible as you try to reach him. You watch as he glances back over his shoulder, goading you into pushing yourself harder, something swells in your chest. He’s close, if you just pick it up a little more, focus a little more, you’ll reach him. Maybe pass him.
“You still with me?” He shouts back, voice light.
Your heart is pounding in your ears, blood rushing loud, and your chest is screaming with the effort of working your body this hard but you don’t care. You want to win, you need to win. You pump your legs harder, clear your mind, and race. You gain on him inch by inch and you grin when you hear him laugh again, catching you in his peripheral vision as you scream up next to him. He says something but you miss it, your head too focused on every step in front of you.
When you finally make it back to KQ you all but skid into the back entrance with him, colliding shoulder to shoulder and having to brace yourself on the entryway wall so you don’t pitch right over onto the hardwood floor.
Yunho’s hands close over your hips to steady you, and you hear his heavy breath above you before he laughs, “Jesus, you’re fast,”
“You annoyed me,” You wheeze, pressing on your side where a painful, sharp stitch has taken up residence.
Your fingers brush along his for the barest of seconds and he pulls his hands back instantly before giving you an apologetic smile and pulling off his ball cap to wipe the sweat off his brow with the bottom of his shirt. The quick flash of his abs makes you dizzy.
“I still won,” Yunho sighs, leaning against the wall.
You shoot him a look, but you’re still catching your breath and at this point it’s not even worth the fight. As you raise your head to look at him, you suddenly notice the crowded hallway towards the side of the door. Wooyoung and San stand close together, angled towards you but clearly just in halted conversation with Minseok, Yujin, and two of the other dancers.
Wooyoung gives you a single pointed eyebrow raise.
“Were you racing?” Minseok asks, glancing between the two of you.
You make an affirmative noise, all you can do while you recover.
“Fun,” Wooyoung laughs a little to himself and if you had the energy you’d smack him, but you can’t even bother.
“Why?” Minseok asks.
“Why not?” Yunho shrugs and then turns his attention back to you, “Good?”
“Good,” You nod.
For a second he looks like he wants to say something else, maybe give you one last encouraging speech, but he just settles on a smile, “See you in there,”
You nod, smiling back up at him, and then he pushes through the little pocket of your coworkers to get back to the locker rooms. You take another second to catch your breath against the wall, Wooyoung making an expression you need to roll your eyes at, but then you realize. You feel great.
The nerves from the whole day have dissipated, the surging rush of endorphins from pushing yourself so hard, drowning out anything in your body except adrenaline, joy, and a little exhaustion. You could kiss him.
At four o’clock, when you walk into the room, you do it with a clear head. In the back of the studio, Yunho smiles.
***
A week later, your app dings again and this time it’s right on the money.
You submit the paperwork on Thursday after practice, another lozenge tucked into your cheek as you start to feel the first signs of your upcoming heat. It’s already better than last time, a more familiar kind of cycle than what you last experienced. You’re used to it being mostly mild, a few times a year leaving you achy and sore, and insatiably horny, but nothing like the desperate cramping from before.
This time you have things down to a predictable science, and though you might have a few moments of serious weakness or deeper feelings of heat, you’d be fine. This time there would be no dizzy desperation, no crying into your pillow in hopes that an alpha would soothe you and take it away. No begging to be claimed. It would be fine.
You should be fine.
You leave the paperwork on the back desk and hurry out to catch a ride back home before you start to really feel it, but all you can imagine is Yunho’s face when he picks up the papers and you need to not be in the building when that happens.
At home you set yourself up for the next few days. Bedroom door locked, a stash of water bottles, a stack of towels, and a bedside table full of charged and ready toys. You get undressed out of your restrictive leggings and tighter clothes, and pull on a simple pair of sleep shorts and a loose oversized top. Fabric that won’t cling or make you hot, just comfortable enough to relax and take it easy as your body starts to sink into heat.
For a while things are normal and fine, regular aches and pains. You watch a show on your iPad and zone out the feeling, but eventually every little shift of your hips feels sharper, and a low throb starts to pulse inside you. It’s evening when you start to lose focus on the drama you’re watching. Something about the male lead seems familiar to you and your mind keeps drifting.
You settle back into the cushions to get more comfortable and to try and refocus on the show, but the ghost sensation of lips on your throat makes your eyes drift closed.
Your hand is pushing under the elastic of your sleep shorts before you can even think it through.
Your mind keeps replaying the image of Mingi pushing his glasses up into his hair and smiling, the way his hands ran over your body and landed firm on your hips. Yunho’s head between your thighs. Both their fingers searching your body, pushing inside you, pulling you apart over and over again. Their hot breath on your throat. Pretty omega, they called you. Something tumbles in your chest, knots build up in your stomach. Your fingers feel good but they pale in comparison to what you had before and you work yourself up and up but nothing quite comes close to the edge of pleasure you’re looking for.
You’re my best girl.
You bite back a moan and push two fingers inside yourself.
You can almost feel their hands on you, their hot kisses, gentle nips of your skin, but you can’t find the feeling of them inside you. You quicken your hand and replay the images faster in your mind. You miss them, you need them, you want them. You come hard and fast with a shudder, your eyes snapping back open.
There she is. That’s our girl.
“F-fuck,” You breathe to yourself, pulling your hand out of your shorts. Your chest is heaving, a light sheen of sweat over you, and your core throbs like your body wants you to go again.
“Oh my god,” You breathe, pushing yourself off the bed and stumbling into the bathroom, “what is wrong with you, get a grip,”
You shake it off, trying to ignore the fact that you just thought about them while you were getting yourself off. It’s just heat, that’s all it ever is with them, that has to be it. Hot alphas will always scramble your brain at a time like this, you just have to listen to yourself and get a grip.
With a sigh you wash your hands, crawl back into bed, and try to just fall asleep and ignore the images still looping in the back of your brain.
You don’t sleep though, you can’t.
You toss and you turn, and you ache, but you don’t sleep.
Around the third hour of trying to soothe your cramps with a heating pad that you decide to say fuck it and ask for help. You have a small window of time to get to wherever you’ll be spending the duration of your heat, and even though you know with your suppressants this won’t be quite as bad as before, your body still wants.
For a second you think about Mingi. You miss his hands, his easy smile, the way he would slowly stroke your back and massage your hips. You miss his scent, his warmth, and his all encompassing comfort. But things have just started to get back to normal at the studio with him and Yunho and you can’t let a moment of heat weakness lead you back.
You open your phone, flipping through social media in an attempt to distract your mind but before you know it you have Yunho’s contact open and you’re fighting the urge to call, just to hear his voice for a second.
Your finger hovers over the button, you can hear his voice in your mind.
Sweetheart, just tell me where you are, I’m coming to get you.
You can see it.
But it’s just your heat. No matter how much Wooyoung likes to tease you about having a crush, it’s just this. Biology you can’t control rewiring your brain and telling you that they’re your perfect match. But you don’t believe in perfect matches or scent pairings. You don’t.
A particularly tight cramp ripples through your middle and you clench your fist through the pain, shifting in your bedding once again, sweat building at your brow.
In a flash of genius and panic, you close Yunho’s contact card and open another.
The phone rings and rings.
He’s busy, you’ve probably missed him, and when he offered he was drunk anyways so he probably doesn’t remember but then suddenly the phone clicks and connects and his warm voice fills your ear, “Hey, y/n,”
“S-Seonghwa,” You sigh, trying to sound as put together as possible, “hey,”
“Is everything okay?” He checks, and you hear a little background noise and hope to god he’s not still at the studio.
“Definitely,” You press your eyes closed and bite the inside of your lip to keep from making a tight, stressed sound.
“Okay…” He waits a moment and then adds, “then what’s going on? You never call,”
The cramp passes and you take a breath, “Sorry, are you busy? I can call later,”
“No, no,” He says, “I’m just grabbing a drink with Wooyoung and Joong,”
“Is that y/n?” You hear Wooyoung in the background, “Tell her to come meet us!”
“Woo,” Seonghwa’s voice sounds a little far from the receiver and then he comes back on the line, “If you’re free, you can come meet us? We were just thinking about dinner, Hongjoong has a new project for us, you might be interested,”
“Oh,” For a second, in the space between your cramps you forget why you called in the first place, “a new song?”
“Two,” You can practically hear the smile on Seonghwa’s face.
“Exciting,” You smile.
“So what do you say,” Seonghwa says, “come out?”
You would, you wish you could, but you shake your head, “I can’t, I actually… I’ll be out for a couple of days. I submitted the paperwork this morning,”
“Are you going somewhere?” He asks, not yet picking up on the obvious.
“Leave,” You smile at his question.
“Leave,” He repeats, “oh, oh leave!”
“Say it louder, Seonghwa,” You groan.
“Is that why you’re calling?” He says, and a little blush creeps into your cheeks at the thought that he’s with other people and talking to you about this like it’s nothing.
“Kind of,” You admit, “I don’t know, you’re busy I just remembered what you said, but you don’t have to,”
“How are you now? I’m at least thirty minutes away, is that too long?”
Warmth blooms in your chest, “I’m fine, honestly, go have dinner,”
You can practically see him rolling his eyes when he says, “Stop being a martyr. Listen, I’ll call you right back, okay?”
“Okay,”
“And don’t worry,” He assures, his voice honeyed and warm, “I will call, I’ll only be a minute,”
“Okay,” You manage, “thank you, Hwa,”
He says something more but you miss it with the light commotion in the background, and then the line clicks dead.
It takes two minutes, but he calls you right back.
“Hey,” You sigh into the receiver.
“Can you text Woo your address?” Seonghwa asks first, “We’re grabbing a cab,”
“Oh,” You flip the phone on speaker and start typing, “okay, yeah, I’m… Seonghwa, are you sure?”
“Mhm,” He replies, “as long as you are.”
“Give me the phone,” You hear Wooyoung and immediately laugh.
“What do you want?” Seonghwa says, clearly not talking to you.
“Phone,” You hear him say and then after a brief groan, Wooyoung’s voice is in your ear, “Hey, you,”
“Hey,” Something about him calms you instantly.
“How far gone are you? Should we pick stuff up on our way or can you come back to my place?” He’s straight and to the point but still gentle, and you’re starting to feel glad that you called them and not anyone else.
“I’m fine,” You assure him, “I can make it to yours. My roommates are here, I think it would be….”
“Got it,” He says, “well just rest, we’ll be there soon,”
Tears well up in your eyes and you sniffle softly, trying to keep it to yourself.
He picks up on the soft sound immediately, “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”
You swallow and wipe away the gathering moisture, “Nothing, you’re both just being so nice,”
“Aw,” He murmurs, “jagiya you’re one of us now, we always take care of each other.”
“Is she crying?” You hear Seonghwa’s voice raise an octave in the background.
“She’s good,” Wooyoung brushes it off, “alright, twenty minutes okay, get your stuff, take a deep breath, and I’ll text you when we’re downstairs.”
“Thanks, Woo,” You manage.
“Deep breaths,” He reminds, and then he’s gone.
You must be insane. You must be fully crazy to invite this type of chaos into your life twice with yet another group of men, but something about this feels right. It feels safe and sure, and something about Wooyoung being an omega too is just making all of this feel so much simpler than last time. At least where your heart is concerned.
It takes you all twenty minutes to get your things together, but you decide to focus on this instead of what all this chaos might mean. You pack a bag of necessities and then change into something loose but more presentable than your sleep clothes. When your phone buzzes again you don’t even look down at it, you just know that it’s Wooyoung arriving right on the dot and you slip out of your apartment as quietly as you can.
Downstairs a car waits across the street and when Seonghwa emerges to greet you, he rushes forwards to take your bags. Your cheeks light up with blush and you have to take a half, staggering step backwards, already being outside and in the presence of an alpha your subconscious mind is reacting to him.
“Let me get these,” Seonghwa says, pulling the bags from your hands, and the touch of his warm skin along yours has a shaky breath leaving your lips.
“Thanks,” You murmur, watching him pack them into the trunk of the cab, and then he turns.
He takes a good look at you and nods, “Yeah, let’s get you to Woo’s,”
“Is it obvious?” You cup your cheeks.
“Not too much,” He assures you, extending his hand for you to take, “but let’s not waste time,”
“Let’s go,” You nod, and he tugs you forwards gently to get you into the car. You settle into the middle seat between Wooyoung and Seonghwa easily.
“Doing good?” Wooyoung asks you, trying to be subtle in front of the driver.
“Mhm,” You nod, and you smile when he laces your fingers together and gives you a squeeze.
Seonghwa gives the next address to the driver and you’re away.
It’s quiet at first, all you can focus on is the way the miles slowly tick down on the map the driver is using, and you try to breathe through your mouth in the closed car full of competing scents but it’s nearly impossible. Seonghwa’s scent envelops you easily, especially in the closed air circulation of the car. Warm, like freshly brewed coffee. You close your eyes as a cramp passes through you and you try not to think of him even though his leg keeps bumping into yours every time the car takes a turn.
The automated sound of a window breaks your concentration and you glance to your side. Seonghwa isn’t looking at you, but he’s cracked the back window a couple of inches, and the pulse of clean air leaves you able to take a shaky inhale and exhale. Wooyoung squeezes your hand again.
The mileage counter keeps clicking down. Seonghwa’s scent stays present in your mind despite the fresh air. Your stomach tightens. The car takes a particularly curving turn and your body is pressed against Seonghwa’s from knee to shoulder and you squeeze Wooyoung’s hand back instead of letting the whine in your throat bubble out.
Your stomach clenches again, and then you feel it. A rush of slick as your body prepares, a flushing flood of hot warmth rolling up your body and through your cheeks. Seonghwa’s arm crosses over you like a seatbelt and he closes his hand over your left thigh, his thumb drawing slow circles to keep you steady and protect you from anyone noticing.
You let yourself glance up at him once more, but he’s still focused out the window, doing his best to comfort you without drawing an ounce of attention.
“Out front?” The driver asks suddenly, and you realize the building ahead across the intersection must be theirs.
“That’s perfect,” Seonghwa replies smoothly, “thank you.”
The minute it takes to cross the intersection feels never ending, and then suddenly things start moving at two-times speed. As the heat cramps increase, Seonghwa’s arm is around your waist and Wooyoung is left hauling your stuff up into the elevator. They get you inside smoothly and as the doors close, Seonghwa lets out a sigh of relief.
“I thought I was going to have to fight every alpha in the lobby,” Seonghwa laughs as the elevator begins to climb, “are you sure you’re on suppressants?”
You can’t help but elbow him slightly in the ribs, “Yes,”
“I’m kidding,” He squeezes you, “you just smell like an extremely edible cake,”
“Mm,” You murmur as a small cramp passes, “well, you know, this is why I’m on the strong stuff,”
The elevator doors open and Wooyoung steps out before you, glancing to either side down the apartment hallway before beckoning you both forwards. He gets out his keys and glances over his shoulder at you both, “Which?”
You tell him the brand as you lean harder on Seonghwa who hushes you softly with a comforting squeeze.
“Ah,” Wooyoung nods, “no wonder,”
You open your mouth to ask him what he means by that, but he’s too busy pushing open the door to his apartment and opening it up for you both to slip inside.
His place is overwhelmingly simple and clean, utilitarian with dark black furniture and gray moody accents, but it suits him. He drops his keys off on the kitchen island and beckons you inside, “Come on in, get comfortable,”
Seonghwa steers you to the couch and settles you down on the middle cushion, “So, where are we at?”
Settled onto the couch now, you honestly feel fine. Your back hurts a little, and your joints are a little stiff, but the aching, pulsing pain you felt back at your apartment has mostly dissipated, “I think I’m fine,”
“Yeah?”
“I mean,” You cross your legs, your hands itching to wrap a cozy blanket around yourself but finding none, “off meds I was practically feral, this is…. manageable,”
“Manageable is good,” Seonghwa smiles.
Wooyoung settles his hand over your yours, soothing your little trembles and then he dips his head to catch your eyes, “I have a room all set up,”
“You do?” Your eyes widen.
“Mm,” He tangles your fingers together again and gives you a squeeze, “I used to have a roommate but when he moved out I just converted the second bedroom,”
“Oh,” You breathe, and you can’t imagine the expense to maintain an apartment large enough to have your very own heat sanctuary, but you dream of the day you get to.
“Let’s go relax in there,” Wooyoung nods, “maybe you’ll like it and get a little sleep,”
“Should we talk?” You glance up at Seonghwa.
“We will,” Seonghwa assures you as he shrugs off his blazer, “but go get comfortable, I’ll start setting up,”
“Setting up?” You ask, confusion evident in your voice.
“Ah,” Wooyoung bumps you with his shoulder, “our Seonghwa takes his caretaker responsibilities very seriously,”
“You’ll want for nothing here, jagiya,” Seonghwa smiles and takes a slight bow, “Wooyoungie is the most pampered omega in Seoul, it will be nice to take care of someone less bratty for a change,”
You laugh sharply and cover your mouth with your hand, “What have I gotten myself into?”
“A fun weekend,” Seonghwa smiles, “now relax, let Woo show you the place.”
Already this feels less stressful than before, and maybe that’s the level of your heat or maybe it’s them, but it feels easy. Wooyoung pulls you up and watches you carefully as you stand to make sure you’re feeling well, and then he guides you down the hall.
Wooyoung’s nesting room is exactly what you’ve been looking for. The bed in this room isn’t necessarily large, but what it is, is covered in blankets and plush pillows. The second bedroom of his apartment has been so smoothly converted into an office and omega haven that you almost wish you had been here for your last, harder heat.
“Okay,” Wooyoung walks you in, “there’s a robe on the back of the door you can use, the mini fridge is pretty stocked, and on that shelf by the bed there’s lozenges, wipes, towels, you name it.”
“Oh my God,” You breathe, scanning over everything as he gestures.
“And over in that bedside table,” He points out the single nightstand, “there’s pretty much any toy you’ll need.”
“Oh,” You blush.
“Hwa and I will be here, of course,” He assures you, “but I like a little extra something,”
“Right,” You smile, “of course you do,”
A gentle knock on the door behind you brings you out of your focus, studying every inch of his perfect heat sanctuary and you turn to see Seonghwa leaning against the door frame.
“How are you feeling?” He asks gently.
“Like myself,” You tell him honestly, “it’s starting, but it doesn’t feel too bad.”
“Mm,” He nods, “it probably won’t be quite as bad as last time, but I’m certainly here for whatever you need,”
“Thank you, Hwa,” You smile, “I can’t thank you enough,”
His eyes light up with warmth and then he looks over you both, “This is nice,” he comments, “the two of you in here,”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Wooyoung laughs as he leans against the desk, “no one’s ready for your knot yet,”
A throb pulses through you, but blissfully no one notices.
“I just think it’s nice,” He shrugs, “two pretty omegas,”
You blush.
“Oh,” Seonghwa smiles as he notices your pink cheeks, “you liked that,”
“Hwa,” You protest weakly.
“Ignore him,” Wooyoung cuts in front of you and leads you back to the bed, “get cozy, you’ll love this.”
He all but puts you in the bed himself, but in minutes you’re relaxed against the cushions, under cooling sheets and downy comforters. Seonghwa waits in the doorway while you get settled, but once you are he smiles and crosses the room to sit on the edge of the bed.
“You’re feeling alright?” He asks, reaching for your hand.
“So far,” You nod, “and this bed is wildly comfortable,”
“Good,” Seonghwa’s fingers smooth over your wrist, slowly stroking your gland and easing you further, “I’m going to go fix you both something for dinner, and if you need anything in the meantime Wooyoung will be right here,”
“Okay,” You breathe.
“I’m going to give Sannie a ring too,” His voice evens out in his chest, low and warm and tender to keep you melting into the bed under you, “is it okay if I tell him you’re here?”
“Sure,”
“Alright then,” He smiles, “just relax,”
“Feeling pretty relaxed,” You tell him.
The sound of your phone vibrating on Wooyoung’s desk draws your eyes, but you focus back on Seonghwa when he says, “I’m sure we can relax you more, don’t worry.”
“You’re forward,” You nudge his thigh.
“And you called me for sex,” He shrugs, “who’s forward now?”
Wooyoung laughs sharply and claps his hands, “This weekend is going to be very fun,”
Your phone buzzes again, then again, and your brows draw together as you look towards it, “Could you,”
Seonghwa doesn’t let you finish your sentence, he crosses the room quickly and then passes your phone over to you, “I’ll be back in a little while, okay?”
“Thank you,”
He nods with a warm expression, and then leaves you and Wooyoung be inside this little cocoon.
“Glad you called?” Wooyoung grins, cheeky and teasing.
“Mm,” You sink deeper into the pillows behind you, “I might have to move in, just for this bed,”
His nose crinkles, “We’ve got to update your space, you should have somewhere like this too,”
“I’d like that,” You sigh, “someday,”
Your phone buzzes again.
“Soon,” Wooyoung dismisses, “until then you can always come here,”
“Well, that’s really nice of you, but,” You tear your eyes away from him to finally illuminate the screen of your phone and your words die on your lips when you see the messages.
Yunho’s name on your screen makes your breath quicken and you open the chat.
hey I got your paperwork. of course it’s fine, but would you please let me know you’re somewhere safe?
I probably shouldn’t have asked that.
I just want to make sure you made it home safely, that’s all. If you need help getting home, you know I’m only a phone call away.
Just… please let me know.
“y/n?” Wooyoung’s voice breaks through your buzzing brain as you read Yunho’s messages over and over.
“What?” You manage, glancing up for the briefest second to catch his worried expression.
“What’s going on?” He asks softly.
“Um,” You murmur, but then your phone buzzes in your hand again, this time not a message from Yunho at all.
He’s freaking out a little bit, but I told him you’re probably already home and sleeping.
Which you are, right?
The two texts from Mingi hang in front of you and a tense feeling knots up in your throat.
“Hey,” Wooyoung interrupts again, pushing his way into the bed beside you without preamble and sidling up to your side, “are you crying?”
“No,” You shake your head, “sorry, I just,”
He waits, holding your gaze with his warm brown eyes and attentive nods, and before you know it you’re letting the phone fall into his hands.
He reads the texts quietly, and then hums, “They’re worried,”
“I know,” Your voice is small.
“Do you want to respond?” He asks.
“I don’t know,” You confess honestly.
“You don’t owe them anything,” He murmurs quietly, locking your phone and setting it to the side so he can turn to you, “I know I keep teasing you about it, but if you wanted to be with them you would have called them. You know how you feel, not me,”
He smooths your hair back and cups your cheek, gathering you a little closer under the covers. You take a deep, shaky breath, and the sudden scent of him all around you feels like a blanket. Fresh linen and summer salt, like falling into bed after a long day in the sun on the beach. His skin is warm against yours and familiar.
“Do you really think that?” You ask.
“Mhm,” He all but whispers, “and either way, you don’t owe them a response right now. You owe yourself rest,”
“Yeah,”
He gives you a minute, and then rubs his thumb over your cheek, “You want to watch something dumb? Maybe fall asleep on me?”
You nod, lips locking tight as your throat stays tense. You feel like if you talk about anything else you might start crying, so you let him pull you closer and grab the remote for the TV mounted on the far wall. He doesn’t ask you what you want to watch, he doesn’t push you any further, he knows you need him to just take care of things before you crumble and text them back.
He selects something funny without putting too much thought into it, and wraps his arm around you as you settle your cheek onto his chest. This was what you were missing so much the last time you went through heat, the steadying comfort of another omega. Your fluttering nerves fall away, and his scent makes you feel warm and your eyes heavy.
“Woo,” You murmur into his shirt.
“Yeah?”
“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had,” You confess.
He sighs, fingers finding yours under the comforter, “And you’re mine,”
You snuggle into him a little more, fingertips brushing the warm hollow of his throat and your heart slowing to a steady, easy rhythm to pump in time with his. Distantly as you fall into sleep, you feel the buzz of your phone again somewhere halfway across the mattress, but this time you don’t even open your eyes.
Wooyoung silences it when it buzzes again, his words soft against your hair when he says, “It’ll all wait until tomorrow, babe, you just rest easy,”
You nod, a yawn taking over you and he chuckles.
“Just sleep,” He murmurs softly, and you do, their messages left unanswered.
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