purplemoonabove

And maybe, you thought, the reason you haven’t had your first touch is that it feels like you’d be tainting something precious.

You sat up straighter, visibly moving yourself backwards at her words. “Don’t.”

“I say this because I love you,” she said, “and because I want you to be happy.”

“I know,” you whispered back.

When she reached out to grab your hand, you clung to her as tightly as she did to you. You sat in silence and Hajong let you gather your thoughts. You looked at her with wet eyes and you could see sadness for you reflecting back. “Do you think they’ll be mad?” you wondered aloud.

“Do you think they would be?” Hajong challenged.

Did you? It seemed ridiculous to even consider after a moment. Every moment you have spent with the ATEEZ pack had taught you one thing - they wanted you, their omega, and they were bending over backwards to make sure they convinced you that they were good alphas. You could walk away, break their hearts, and they’d only say that they’ll miss you.

But the decisions made in your youth still scarred, still embarrassed, and the horrible anxious part of you wondered whether they’d look at you differently if they knew.

“Why do you always ask difficult questions?” you complained.

Hajong’s lips twitched in amusement. “Because I’m your best friend and I know you better than you know yourself,” she stated simply, “and because you’ve been the happiest I’ve ever seen you these last months.”

She squeezed your hand. You squeezed back.

-

In the end, you told Hongjoong first. The first teaser had been shared on social media for their new EP and title track, Adrenaline. You’d sent a message in the group chat to tell them that it sounded amazing and I can’t wait to hear the whole thing.

Hongjoong had asked if you wanted to. A sneak peak. Mate privileges.

You agreed.

Now, you watched him from your seat along the back wall of his recording studio. He was talking with his hands, explaining each part of the set up in excruciating detail. Every once and a while, Hongjoong would stumble over a word and look at you, wide eyed and flushed, before averting his gaze and jumping to the next button on his mixing board.

He’s nervous, you noticed and it sent a wave of fondness through you.

The pack alpha and idol always seemed to have things together, always had such a good control of himself, until now with his omega sitting across from him, in his studio, and it was like he couldn’t stop himself.

Your lips turned upwards into a smile, eyes dancing happily.

“So, yeah, that’s the main thing I use when working on a song,” Hongjoong said, “Um, do you want to know about the recording booth?”

He was already standing up, gesturing towards the small side room, when you put your hands up in front of you, in a surrender pose.

“Joongie,” you laughed. 

He froze, eyes wide and the tips of his ears turned red. You saw the twitch at the corner of his mouth as he fought to control the smile stretching across his handsome face and failed miserably.

“I’m not here for a studio tour,” you reminded him, “I’m here for you.”

“Me, yes, right,” Hongjoong bounced his head when he nodded, “I just, um... I want you to like it here.”

“Music means a lot to you,” you agreed. “This space is yours, so yes, I like it here.”

Hongjoong’s canines bared when he grinned, delighted. You, of course, knew the alpha was handsome but there was something about him in this moment - in his element, eyes light, posture relaxed, trying so hard to make you comfortable. You knew you were eluding your happiness in your scent, a sweetened uptick in honey, just like Hongjoong’s more crisp scent seemed to change to match yours.

You hoped that wouldn’t change. The sour note that encroached the space made the alpha’s nose twitch. His eyebrows furrowed together in worry. “Is everything okay?” he said, voice dropped to be softer, quieter, “did I do something wrong?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, smiled tightly and shook your head. “No, no, it’s not you, it’s,” you stopped yourself before repeating such a cliche, “I just have something to tell you.”

“Okay?” Hongjoong lowered himself back into his chair and wheeled it closer to you. He stopped when he was close enough that you could feel the heat from his body, his scent surrounding you as his wolf tried its best to comfort the omega within you. If he shifted, his knees would bump against yours but he didn’t close the distance, waiting for you. “You can tell me anything.”

You splayed your fingers across your knees. “Even if it's bad?”

Hongjoong mimicked you. With a twitch, he could touch you, comfort you if needed. “Especially if it’s bad,” he promised.

He looked so genuine, so earnest, that it made your chest hurt. You weren’t sure if you could look at him as you said this, so you adjusted your stare to just over his shoulder. At the machines he had just shared with you and hoped it wouldn’t be your last time to experience it.

“His name was Hyunbin,” you started. It had been so long since you’d said his name, it sounded foreign on your tongue. Hongjoong didn’t interject but he stilled, listening, observing. You made yourself continue. “He was maybe 27? I was 18. I...” you swallowed around the bitterness, “I thought we were fated. He let me think we were.”

And then, as if a dam had broken, words poured your parted lips.

How your hand had brushed against Hyunbin’s and he’d told you, with the conviction of a liar, that was what a first touch felt like. He was so charming, so witty, so attractive, that you couldn’t wrap your head around the idea that he had been lying.

You spoke about how quickly you’d moved into his studio apartment; how he’d convinced you that he was due a big promotion and would give you the security that your omega craved. How he’d explained that no mate of his would need to go to university, to get a job, because he was the provider.

Besides, his voice came back to you, you’re not exactly going to get a First, are you?

You told Hongjoong how you had lost yourself - to Hyunbin’s rules, to his expectations, to his orders. You thought this was what love was, what you needed to do to have the life and love you dreamed of.

“I was 19 when he gave me a claiming bite,” you murmured, distant, sad. You remembered how it had hurt, how it had burned and you’d sobbed. Hyunbin had rolled his eyes, slapped your thigh in warning and told you to stop being such a pup.

Hongjoong’s fingers curled into fists, his scent darkening, twisting with anger. Your reaction was instantaneous, fear making your heart lodge in your throat. “It didn’t take,” you insisted, your hands clambered to your throat, baring your neck insistently to his gaze, “See? I regretted it. I promise I did.”

Hongjoong said your name, wet and trembling. “I want to touch you, on your shoulders,” he said, “Can I?”

You nodded, desperate and thought you’d do anything for him not to be angry at you. For a moment, it felt like you were back there, surrounded by Hyunbin’s rage and bitterness. You never felt at peace and you were braced for rejection.

Hongjoong’s hand moved slowly to your shoulders, careful to only touch the clothes covered areas. He said your name again. “Are you scared of me?”

No. Yes. Maybe. “I don’t want you to be upset,” you answered.

“Upset with you? Never, omega,” he promised, and your stomach fluttered with dizzy relief. “Upset by that arsehole? Very much so. That fucker took advantage of you.”

Hajong had said the same thing, along with a lot more colourful curses. Your omega had long retreated by then and you’d felt nothing but blame and hatred for yourself, for your own stupidity.

You relayed to Hongjoong the same words you said back then. “I let him.”

Hongjoong’s expression tightened. “You didn’t know. You were barely an adult and he,” the alpha squeezed his eyes shut in frustration, “he knew what he was doing.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

He opened his eyes, fingers twitching like he wanted to grasp your tighter and barely stopped himself. “Don’t apologise,” he insisted, “not to me. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Your scent was still soured, sorrowful and self pitying. Hongjoong’s scent heightened and wrapped around you, a blanket that your omega mournfully wrapped yourself in. You shuddered a breath and lent forward until you could press your forehead against his chest, cushioned in his hoodie. You closed your eyes against the onslaught of tears pricking at the back of your vision. You felt the hitch in his breathing, in the way he froze under you, before he relaxed. He dipped his head just so, not enough to touch your skin but enough that his breathing parted strands of your hair at the nape of your neck.

“Is this why you didn’t want to be with us?” he whispered.

You make a noise of agreement. “I...I was afraid,” you said quietly.

“Understandable,” Hongjoong’s thumb rubbed a figure of eight into your shirt, “Are you still afraid?”

You were terrified - of your growing feelings, of how this pack makes you feel, of how your world has changed and adapted to fit them into a space so easily. But of them?

You shook your head.

Hongjoong’s chest expanded under you. “Good, that’s good,” he sighed. “I don’t ever want you to feel afraid. Not of us, not of me.”

“It’s hard to be,” you said, “when you’ve been so kind to me. I haven’t exactly made things easy.”

“Anything worth having is worth fighting for,” Hongjoong mused. “You’re worth it.”

“I don’t feel like it,” you admitted.

“And as your alpha, it’s my job to remind you,” he said, “night or day, you’re worth it. Always will be.”

The certainty in his voice struck you and you choked on a sob. Your omega whined and whimpered, urging you closer to your alpha. Hongjoong in response, muttered a curse and folded you closer, arms slipping around the small of your back to tug you closer. He murmured soft comforts in your hair, affirmations and promises that you couldn’t hear over the ringing in your ears but innately knew were wonderful. You pressed your hands to his thighs, felt them flex under your touch, and then moved them to his hoodie, fingers curling in the fabric that smelt so much like pack.

“Joongie,” your voice wobbled as you looked up at him. “Alpha.”

His eyes flashed at the title. “Omega. What is it? What do you need?”

You needed closeness. You needed comfort and touch and - “Kiss me,” you answered, “please.”

His eyes flickered to your lips and back again, but he didn’t touch you there. His fingers moved to cup your cheeks, a soft brush of fingertips first that made you gasp and then a more secure touch that made you feel hot all over. He used it to tilt your head down just so, and lowered his own to press a kiss to the center of your forehead.

Your skin was warm and the press of lips was secure, firm and full of more emotions than thought possible. Your omega rumbled, sad but content, her mate's scent intertwining with her own. It calmed the discomfort in your chest, soothed the previous chaotic cycling of your thoughts. That’s what pack alphas can do, you thought, they hold everyone together.

Later, when you were curled under his arm as he played ‘Choose’ from the laptop balanced precariously on his lap, you felt brave enough to ask him.

“Why didn’t you kiss me?” you wondered.

His arm tightened around you. “I did kiss you.”

“Not properly, I thought...” you quietened, a little embarrassed. Maybe he didn’t want to kiss you like that and you’d read it wrong.

Hongjoong’s scent immediately comforted you. “You think I didn’t want to, omega?” he teased, “it was very tempting.”

“So why didn’t you?”

Hongjoong’s fingers brushed along the hem of your t-shirt, letting the tips dip just below to brush against your bare skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake. “When I get to kiss you,” he murmured, “It’s not going to be in my studio after you’ve been hurting. It’s gonna be after our first date.”

“This doesn’t count,” you glanced around the recording space, just the two of you.

Hongjoong looked mildly offended. “I can do way better than this,” he insisted, “You, looking stunning as usual. Me, not wearing my oldest pair of joggers. Candlelit dinner, opening the car door for you, ordering the most ridiculous sounding wine off the menu, and then a moonlit walk where I carry your heels because they hurt your feet.”

“I don’t wear heels much,” you said with a grin.

Hongjoong wasn’t to be dissuaded. “Then I’ll carry you because you’re tired from walking,” he challenged, “and then I’ll take you home, walk to your doorstep like a gentleman.”

“I thought you were carrying me,” you teased.

“Put you down on your doorstep,” Hongjoong corrected, his lips twitching into an amused grin, “and then I’ll ask if it’s okay for me to kiss you.”

“What will I say?”

“In my fantasy? You say please.”

-

Eunwoo thought it was important for all the assistants to get hands-on experience in all parts of the photography process. “Every good photographer should know their way around an editing software,” he’d explained happily. 

Which is how you found yourself perched at an unoccupied desk, laptop open and staring quite obviously at the half edited photo of Seonghwa on your screen. The beta in question was staring you down, eyes lids, lips slightly parted with his fingers tugging his bottom lip down. It’s unfair, you thought mildly, that your beta was so damn attractive that he had you distracted without even being near you. A lot of idols were, you knew, but it was different knowing that he was yours - you stumbled over the word as your wolf hummed happily. 

Plus he wasn’t just a photo on the screen anymore. You knew how he smiled, how he laughed, how he snored when he fell asleep on call with you.

When Yijoo groaned, loud with arms stretched above his head, you visibly startled, dragged from your thoughts.

“I’ve been staring at this man’s face too long,” he moaned. You glanced over and barely caught a glimpse of Wooyoung’s cherry red hair.

You looked back to Seonghwa’s sultry expression. “Me too,” you agreed.

Your phone vibrated against your thigh and you reached for it immediately. Yunho and Mingi were teasing San about something that happened during the last dance practice in the group chat. You had to know about it apparently, much to San’s chagrin. The amount of texts were too much to keep up with at that moment but still, it made you smile fondly.

“I know that look,” Seoah teased, leaning back in her own chair, “is that the mate?”

You flushed at how she wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. You put the phone screen face down on the table but that didn’t stop the vibrations from rumbling the table. Seoah giggled and Yoojin arched an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know you found your mate,” he murmured.

“It’s new,” Seoah interjected.

You squirmed for a moment, debating how to respond. You had never really discussed what should be said about your relationship, how much detail to go into, but you supposed, a little would be fine. “Mates,” you corrected quietly.

Seoah looked absolutely delighted. “How many?”

Fated mate pairs were the most common but fated throuples or packs were an accepted part of life. It was always shown in movies and dramas as this delightful thing, about how lucky it is for a wolf to have so much love around them. You’re not surprised by Seoah’s reaction, though you still felt hot when you explained, “Eight.”

Yijoo let out a low whistle. “Pack bond,” he mused, “Lucky you.”

“I don’t think I even like eight people,” Seoah mumbled, “What’s it like?”

You debated the best way to answer. “It’s good, like really good,” you said honestly, “I didn’t think it would be. I thought, I don’t know, that it would be harder for all of us to be together? I thought I would hate being someone’s omega but...”

Yijoo finished your sentence, “but it feels like everything is exactly how it should be.”

“Exactly,” you agreed. “Like things are just easier around them.”

“It’s the same with my mates,” he commented, “must be why the moon chose us to be together.”

“Mates?” you inquired.

“Two,” he clarified, “Nayeon and Sana. My alpha and omega. And then my pack is a bunch of bonded omegas and alphas.”

“You’re the only beta?” Seoah sounded surprised.

He hummed. “It was exhausting at first, too many alpha fights and too many omegas in need of a steadier hand, but we grew and adapted to each other. I think that’s why we work so well now.”

“Tiring but worth it,” you murmured.

Your phone jumped across the table again. Seoah sighed with faux dramatics. “Just answer your pack.”

When you did, a message from Jongho sat on top of San’s last desperate attempt to end the teasing. Get ready pretty girl, Sang and I are taking you for lunch. Followed by a gif of a man speed walking.

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips.

“Why do I feel extra single right now?” Seoah complained.

Both alphas were waiting by a car with tinted windows. Both wore hats and masks but you could tell who they were immediately. That sweet scent of vanilla wrapped around you so sweetly.

Even though you couldn’t see it, you knew both were grinning at you, eyes squinting over plump cheeks. Jongho held his arms out, a silent request for a hug and you slipped yourself between them easily. The alpha’s chest rumbled happily as you curled into him, face pressed into the curve of his neck. Yeosang’s hands slipped down your back affectionately before reaching for your hand, fingers sliding between his like they were meant to be there. Yeosang pressed a kiss to your knuckles and if it were possible to melt more, you would have.

“Where are we going?” you wondered.

“Bibimbap?” Yeosang offered.

“Or anything else our omega wants?” Jongho nudged his nose against your cheek.

After the talk with Hongjoong, once he had retold the story to the rest of the pack because he didn’t want you to relive it again, you’d had a conversation about claiming language, about whether that something you’d be comfortable with after everything.

“We don’t want to say something that will make you uncomfortable,” Yunho had said, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“But we’d really like to call you ours,” Wooyoung piped in.

You’d agreed quietly, admitting that you liked it when they said you were theirs and asked if you could call them yours as well.

Seonghwa’s eyes darkened just so. “We want nothing more.”

Jongho in particular seemed to take full advantage of the permission given. “Bibimbap sounds good,” you agreed. “Let’s go Alpha.”

Both visibly preened at the title. Jongho kept his arm around your shoulder and Yeosang refused to let go of your hand, swinging it gently between the two of you. Your omega settled, content between your two mates, and you thought back to what Yijoo had said - like everything is how it should be.

You didn’t know it was possible to feel this way. To be someone’s omega and be happy and safe and exactly where you want to be. Your scent must have sweetened because Yeosang squeezed your hand.

“You happy darling?” he murmured.

You let out a long breath. “Yeah,” you answered, for once not surprised by it, “I am.”

---------------------------------------------------

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