gogobebe

He could feel the way that his wolf was growing restless, back arching, nipping at the heels of his rational thoughts. Wooyoung tried to keep it hidden - because it wasn’t his mates fault, it wasn’t your fault, it was just instinct - but of course, it was obvious to those who knew him the very best.

His eomma worried loudly. His little brother offered him a safe space to get away. Yunho kept him wrapped in his calming scent basically every second of the day. Hongjoong and Mingi had let him fight it out with them when his alpha aggression got too much, working the burning tension from his burning muscles.

From a distance, it was manageable. Over messages, it was simple to pretend he was just the easy going flirt he preferred to portray himself as.

In person, however, it was different.

Wooyoung could smell you the moment you stepped into their home. The whimper he released was involuntary. You were so sweet and the fact that you were here, in his home, felt perfect. Like it should be. Like the world was righting itself.

He knew it wasn’t permanent. A movie night, Seonghwa had suggested. We all miss you, Yunho was honest. Please say you’ll come? Mingi had asked.

You’d go back to your apartment at the end of the night and Wooyoung knew he’d desperately chase your scent until it was just part of his imagination. 

Yeosang took your jacket and bag to put away for you. He was careful to only hold onto the fabric, fingers curled away from any bare skin, and yet Wooyoung still found himself watching intensely, body tense.

Yunho bumped his shoulder and Wooyoung had to put in effort to drag his gaze away. The beta’s expression was understanding just as much as it was scolding. “Breathe man,” he ordered.

The unspoken command was clear. Don’t fuck this up for us.

Wooyoung rolled out his shoulders, forced his fingers to unclench and curled his lips into a facade of an easy smile. When you looked at him, murmured his name in greeting, soft smile pulling at your flushed cheeks, it became much easier.

“Miss me, pretty girl?” Wooyoung teased.

Please say yes.

Your fingers played nervously with the hem of your skirt. “I...” you hesitated, eyes flickering to him and back again, “I...did.”

Wooyoung could have howled in delight then and there. “Good, I missed my pretty girl too.”

God, the way your scent bloomed - embarrassed and warm and so goddamn enticing - was addictive.

Seonghwa fluttered and checked in about the journey here. You had wanted to drive yourself but Hongjoong had been careful to explain that it would be safer to send a car.

The pack house was just on the outskirts of what could be called central Seoul. It had once been flats, a commodity during the housing boom and economic expansion during the 80s and 90s, but had been converted by previous owners into a pack home when the number of bonded packs had increased in the later 2010s. When they had renewed their last contract with KQ, they’d collectively bought the place with the bonus. 

Wooyoung still thought fondly of the dormitories - their first shared one and then the four they all rotated between when they made it big - but nothing beat this home of theirs.

It seemed even better now, with you there, looking every bit as if you belonged.

His wolf rumbled happily.

“We set up the main room,” Hongjoong explained. He gestured the way and you fell into step, the others all following behind like the eager puppies they were.

“Did you finally decide on a movie?” you asked. There had been many suggestions of the best movie night options that had gotten fiery at times in the lead up to the day.

“You’re the guest,” Seonghwa interjected smoothly, “You should choose.”

Wooyoung supposed it wasn’t the best impression of them that they’d almost had a wrestling competition to decide between Indiana Jones and Star Wars. San had Yunho pinned before Jongho had pointed out that maybe you should pick the movie.

“Are you sure?” you asked wide eyed, “I don’t want to put on something you don’t like.”

You sounded so concerned, as if Wooyoung didn’t know they’d sit through anything you wanted without complaint.

“We’ll like anything you pick,” Mingi assured.

In the living room, Seonghwa had taken charge and given orders for where things should go. In any other situation, it wouldn’t have been taken so seriously but they were all hyper aware of this being the first time their omega was going to be in their - and in the future, maybe yours as well - private space. Everything had to be perfect, their wolves reasoned, or their omega wouldn’t stay.

It was an innate thing, Wooyoung figured, something deep inside that wanted to prove he could provide and protect. Look, I know how to clean and decorate, total alpha material, right? 

Mingi had shoved the sofas back against the back walls and Yunho had the idea to bring in any extra chair they owned that could be sat comfortably long term.

“She should have options,” he had murmured as he tried to determine the best angle for a blow up armchair.

The only place you should be sitting was under his arm, soaked in his scent; Wooyoung's wolf wanted to argue but he held it back.

Yeosang had brought down his fancy projector. San had brought fairy lights on coupang because the mood just wasn’t quite right. Wooyoung had worked with Hongjoong and Jongho to drag the kitchen table into a corner and pile it high with snacks of every kind.

See, I can buy you all the snacks you want, you should let me mark you.

It was a bit much, obnoxious even against the plain wall, and it immediately drew your eye. It shouldn’t have made Wooyoung puff up in delight as much as it did.

You looked startled. “Guys, what’s...”

“We didn’t know what you wanted,” Jongho explained simply, “so we got some of everything.”

“Everything is right,” you murmured, “it’s too much.”

Yunho waved a hand dismissively. “Whatever we don’t eat now, Mingi and Hongjoong will eat in the middle of the night.”

Hongjoong made a noise of objection, and Mingi’s ears burned. He flicked the beta in the shoulder. “You make it sound like we’re goblins or something,” Mingi complained.

“It’s only when we’re working on a new release,” Hongjoong explained to you in their defense.

“Music geniuses need fuel,” you replied.

Seonghwa arched an eyebrow and joked, “Genius is a bit much. It’ll go to their heads.” though it was already too late for that, the two alphas were already beaming.

You giggled nervously. It really shouldn’t have been enough to make Wooyoung melt.

They found a seat across the space. Hongjoong took one of the plush floor cushions. Mingi and Seonghwa sunk into a loveseat, knees bumping against each other as they stretched out their long legs. Jongho dropped to one end of the long sofa with Yeosang beside him, while Wooyoung took the armchair he usually would. Yunho made the choice to sit near by him, which Woo did appreciate - he hated that the beta felt like he needed to keep a close eye on him, but Wooyoung was determined for today to be perfect.

You were selecting a seat when it happened. Your eyes swept over the space as if your choice was the most important thing to happen that day. Wooyoung was hyper aware of the open chair next to him and he hoped you’d want to join him.

He opened his mouth to ask, the words on the tip of his tongue - but San got there first.

The beta shuffled from foot to foot. “Would you...” San averted his gaze, nervous, “would you sit with me? And maybe we could…cuddle? If you wanted to.”

The room held its breath, bodies frozen to place in anxious anticipation. Mingi murmured San’s name nervously. Yeosang rubbed his thumb over his knuckles. Hongjoong’s shoulders tensed. Wooyoung could only stare, startled at the earnest look of his pretty beta. He didn’t expect San to actually ask.

And he definitely didn’t expect you - so nervous and skittish - to tense for a moment before offering a shy, “okay.”

Such a simple word, a step that should have had him feeling delighted. You wanted to touch them, to be touched by them. San had been struggling with his wolf since their first touch, desperately wanting to reaffirm that physical connection. 

Rationally, Wooyoung could understand that. He remembered how hard it was after his first touch with San, the beta always seeking touch from his loved ones whenever he got the chance.

San’s face blossomed in delight and god, his smile was so wonderful. “Okay, good, yes. You won’t regret it. I’m the best cuddler.”

Jongho murmured goodnaturedly, “we didn’t take a vote,” and you let out a wobbly laugh.

San held out his hand and you took it with shaky fingers. The beta led you to the space he always claimed on the sofa - usually with Yeosang caught under his broad arms, but it looked like the alpha was more than happy to give up his cuddle position, at least for the moment - and took great care in making sure you were as comfortable as possible.

Wooyoung could smell your increasing delight, could smell San’s overwhelming happiness and how it curled around the room. Your face was so red and your body looked so small beside San’s broad frame. His fingers curled around your shoulder, a loose grip that flexed when you angled your head into his shoulder.

You weren’t quite putting your scent mark on display, but it was there, through a curtain of hair. It was trust, Wooyoung knew, and he was so goddamn happy for San. Really, he was.

But it was hard to listen to anything reasonable when his wolf began unravelling.

Why did San get to touch our omega? Why, why why?

Wooyoung breathed through his nose and smelt you.

His lips curled into a snarl instinctively.

The noise cut through the quiet tension, louder than anything else, and quickly the positive atmosphere changed. Wooyoung could feel it, knew he was responsible but as much as he begged his wolf to calm down, it was too late. The beast had ripped through him, tugged at the longing in his chest and growled dangerously.

Why did San get to touch my omega? Mine. Mine. Mine.

Wooyoung clenched his teeth until his gums ached, and dug into the arms of the chair. Anything to ground himself. Ours, he tried to correct but his wolf wanted to roar in disagreement. Mine.

“Wooyoung...” Hongjoong’s voice was hard, trying to force its way through the animalistic haze. 

And then you, carefully tugging your legs in closer to your body - protective, he realised belatedly, scared - and sitting up taller. “Youngie...”

His wolf whined and whimpered in distress. It was his fault. Fuck, he had to get out of there. He had to - 

Wooyoung stood up, claws cutting into the fabric of the armchair and forcing pieces of stuffing into the area. He couldn’t concentrate it, vision blurring with frustration and mortification and, fuck, he’s ruined everything and -

“I need to go,” he forced out, voice rough and slurred through extended canines.

No one tried to stop him.

-

You watched Wooyoung - as he sped from the chaos he’d left in his wake. A plume of feathers from the torn chair caught in a breeze and floated at odd angles. The stench of upset and jealousy that you knew all too well contaminated the area. Your own scent - worried, panic bordering on terrified - swirled around you. San’s grip on your shoulder tightened, pulling you closer, as if he could physically protect you from this feeling.

It was such a familiar scent, directed towards you. In a moment, you could imagine yourself back there, words like daggers cutting deep as you apologised over and over again. In times before, you would have been trapped there, lost in a memory, but today, it was almost too easy to focus on the warm touch so steady against you, the enticing vanilla that was being pumped desperately out around you. The edges of the nightmare fractured and you were back in a pack house. One that smelt like yours in a way that his home never did.

You heard a murmur of your name and when you turned towards the source, Yeosang was watching you with despairing eyes. He reached for you, the instinctive need to comfort, but stopped himself before he did. He shouldn’t look so sad, you thought. None of them should.

“Are you okay?” Jongho peered over his hyung’s shoulder, body tense with barely controlled nerves. His dark eyes scanned every part of you, as if assessing a physical injury rather than an emotional one.

“I’m...” your voice sounded broken, even to your own ears. You cleared your throat. “I’m fine.”

It surprised you how true that actually was.

“You’re crying,” Mingi sounded wounded.

You blinked and startled at how the hot slide of tears down your cheek. You wiped it away and observed the wet mark left on the side of your hand. “I didn’t realise...” you shook your head. “What happened? Is Woo...”

Even with so many wolves around you, the Wooyoung shaped space was obvious and you felt it far stronger than you thought possible.

You hadn’t spent a lot of one on one time with the alpha, but he was always the first one to reply to your messages. You had thanked him for the breakfast place recommendation and you could remember his reply clearly. I hope to take you there myself if you let me, pretty girl.

Hongjoong’s eyebrows were furrowed together, eyes distant as if following his packmate from his seat. “He’s fine. His wolf has just been...finding the new situation hard.”

It wasn’t a surprise and yet it still hurt to hear. Your omega whined at the thought that your alpha was close by, hurting and it was because of you.

“I’m sorry,” you responded.

San hushed you softly. “You don’t have to apologise,” he promised, “you didn’t do anything wrong.”

But you did, didn’t you? You didn’t follow the typical expected role of a newly found omega. Your wolf had been yearning, sad and wistfully pining, but everyone was different. Your eyes drifted to the slashes in the upholstery. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be fighting the aggression of your instinct.

You shivered. San’s thumb traced patterns into your upper arm in silent comfort.

Yunho folded his legs closer to push himself up. “I should go find him,” he sighed.

Maybe it was the hold that didn’t hurt. Maybe it was the worry around you. Maybe it was the way your omega was tracking his scent from a far, just wanting to make sure your alpha was okay.

But you felt unexpectedly brave.

“No, I want to,” you said the words before you could second guess them.

“You don’t have to fix anything,” Seonghwa said.

“I know. I want to,” you said honestly and when you moved to your feet, you were allowed to go without protest.

“Backdoor,” Hongjoong angled his head in the direction of the kitchen, “he won’t have gone far.”

The pack alpha was right. Beyond sliding glass doors, there was a wide patio space with steps down into a garden and further into a wooded area. It was simple, sure, but you could imagine hosting here, imagine curling up under the stars, imagine running under the moonlight.

You couldn’t focus on it for too long - the hunched shadow that radiated exhausted sadness perched at the end of the patio was calling you closer. You moved slowly and when Wooyoung shifted, you froze, heart beating.

“You should go back inside,” he spoke, voice raspy and thick with sorrow.

“Maybe,” you agreed. You could hear the blood pounding in your ears but you forced yourself to keep moving closer. “But I don’t want to.”

“I could hurt you,” Wooyoung warned. The word ‘hurt’ curled with devastation.

You swallowed nervously. “Will you?”

The answer was quick. “Never.”

“Good,” you replied just as quickly. You took the steps onto the grass, felt the damp strands catch between your toes. When you settled on the decking, the stairs acted as a visible barrier between you both.

“I scared you though,” he laughed bitterly. From where you were sitting, the low outdoor lights illuminated the side of his face. He really was striking, you mused, even with eyes red rimmed. He pushed a hand through his hair, tangling the strands around each other. “Fuck. I didn’t - I’m so sorry.”

“Did I do anything?” you pushed.

“No. No, you didn’t, I -”

“Then you don’t have anything to apologise for,” you could hear Hajong’s voice, calm but firm. You still said sorry a lot but it was worse back then, still caught in a habit built over months of torment. “I would like an explanation though.”

Wooyoung was quiet for a long time, and you let him. You took the time to watch him - the shine of his lips, the point of his nose, the mole so perfectly placed under his eye. You watched long fingers fiddle with the hem on his sleeve and shoulders hunch down to make himself smaller.

“I’m not always like this. Out of control.” He finally said, “It’s just hard.”

He doesn’t have to elaborate. You already know what he’s talking about.

A reflective apology slipped through.

Wooyoung shook his head. “You don’t have anything to apologise for,” he parroted back. “You aren’t wrong. We barely know each other and biology is demanding that we throw ourselves at each other. You have every right to want more than that, and I want to give you that but-”

“It’s hard,” you finished for him, lamely.

Wooyoung’s lips quivered at the corner. “Have any of the others spoken to you about how the ATEEZ pack started?”

You shook your head.

“Did you know that I wasn’t supposed to be a part of it?” Wooyoung wondered, “Hongjoong hand picked everyone - except me. A last minute company add-on.”

The way he says it, bitter and twisted and mocking, makes your chest hurt. It feels like something deeper, something charged in a way that you’re terrified you might step on and cause more damage. You pump out your scent, an instinctive need to soothe. Wooyoung’s eyes fluttered close, his nostrils flaring and you hoped that you were helping ease that pain, even a little bit.

“Yeosang and I were friends before,” he murmured, “I’d always thought we were more, but it didn’t really make sense until we were together. But they didn’t want me. Fuck. It fucking hurt, looking at these people that the moon says are supposed to be mine and they just, didn’t give a shit. Not then.”

“They do now,” you said, “It’s hard not to miss how in love you all are with each other.”

“I am. I love them so fucking much,” Wooyoung rubbed at his nose, “and then you came along. My perfect mate, our omega, and I want nothing more than to be your alpha, your partner, to be part of your pack but you don’t,” the words hitched as they stumbled over themselves.

“I’m sorry,” the words are broken with guilt and tears burn at the corners of your eyes.

“No, no, it’s not on you,” Wooyoung insisted, “I promise, it’s not.”

“But I’m hurting you,” you muttered.

This time, Wooyoung looked at you with wet eyes. “I’d rather deal with a lifetime of this feeling than have you here when you don’t want to be,” he confessed.

You were struck by the realisation that he was being utterly sincere. You hadn’t really thought that Wooyoung - that any of them really - would actually lie to you but somewhere in your subconscious, perhaps you were preparing yourself for it.

You almost felt guilty for assuming such a thing, when the ATEEZ pack had been nothing but kind and understanding. They had been willing to let you go if that’s what you wanted and were willing to take any scraps of attention you gave them. No pressure, no guilt, just a quiet battle of instincts that they were scared to share with you.

You weren’t ready to tell them all that laid within you. In the light of the morning, it all might feel like a horrible mistake. You might convince yourself that the terror of a potential future is enough to hide from what they make you feel.

Because they do make you feel. Not just your omega - who has made it abundantly clear that she’d present herself eagerly if given half the chance - but the part of you held so many cracks.

Hongjoong, who respected every wish and boundary you had set without question, just happy that you were willing to be there.

Yunho, who came to every breakfast meeting you asked him to, regardless of how busy he was.

Seonghwa, who had called you once on a night where it was impossible to sleep and now it felt hard to fall asleep without his voice.

Yeosang, who worried about your health and every meal you ate, even going as far as sending lunch to work for you because he didn’t like the thought of you working yourself to sickness.

Jongho, who was quick to make you laugh and was the first person to ask you the questions the others were too nervous to.

Mingi, the first mate that you met, who has been sending you everything he finds interesting because he just wanted to share what he loves with you.

San, who had to deal with the same first touch, and yet looked at you with such delight when you agreed to hug him on a movie night.

And then Wooyoung, body tense from old scars, yet thinking about you even when things were getting tough for him.

Give them a chance, Hajong had said. For you. 

Now, you were stuck with the thought that you wanted to do it for them too.

“Hold out your arm,” you stumbled over the words.

Wooyoung blinked, startled. “What?”

“Just, do it,” you pushed, “please.”

He considered it for a moment, eyes scanning your expression, as if he could read your intentions in the quirk of your lip or the flicker of an eyelid. Then Wooyoung did as asked, arm stretched out towards you.  He even curled his fingers into his palm, making sure that there wasn’t even a chance he’d touch your bare skin without permission. 

Such a simple curtsey shouldn’t have made your omega keen in such a way. Good alpha, she nudged you.

For a moment, your conviction failed. While your omega tried to nudge you forward, your anxious mind whirled to life. What if nothing happens? What if everything happens?

It had felt like the worst kind of burn with San at first, trapped under so many eyes, but the second one - it felt right. His scent was so much stronger, his fingers warm when they pressed against your arm. When darkness tipped in, that connection had helped chase it away faster than any therapy had done previously.

Grounding, you decided. It was steady in a way that you had never felt before.

Because they’re ours, your omega piped in.

Ours, you agreed.

That made you brave.

Brave enough to push through the chaotic thoughts threatening to destroy you.

Brave enough to not shy away under Wooyoung’s gaze, intense and deeply affectionate, because he was already yours.

Brave enough to want to be his as well.

His breath caught when you wrapped your fingers - so much smaller compared to his, thicker compared to his long digits - around his sleeve covered wrist.

Wooyoung stuttered over your name, but didn’t move, didn’t withdraw. It was all down to you.

If you pulled away, folded your limbs back into your lap, you thought he would comfort you. He wouldn’t make you feel bad, would he?

“You don’t...” he started, giving you an out.

You shook your head. “It’s okay,” you murmured and sounded surer than you actually felt. “I want to.”

Your fingers shook when you moved them, towards the hem of the sleeve and then -

Wooyoung’s eyes flashed gold.

You know you answered in kind.

It still burnt, still rushed through you like fire in a windtunnel. It made every nerve you held tingle into high alert. It had your omega panting and howling in satisfaction. You matched your inhale to the rise of Wooyoung’s chest, felt the way his pulse jumped under your fingertips and the way his lips parted in a sigh.

He really was beautiful, you thought.

Our pretty mate, your omega hummed.

When Wooyoung let himself touch you back, slim fingers sliding across your own until he could grip them tightly. He held on to you like he was afraid you were going to take it back.

He said your name again, a whisper, a plea, a thank you.

“If things don’t work out,” you told him quietly, the words settling uncomfortably in your chest, “it won’t be because of you.”

Wooyoung ducked his head, pressed his forehead against the back of your hand. You could feel his breath, hot against your hyper sensitive skin. It made you shiver and hold on just a little tighter.

“If things don’t work out,” he whispered like it was a pray, “I’ll be happy to have just this moment.”

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

a/n: please comment and reblog! next chapter will likely be a mingi or jongho focused one - any preference?

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