sailor of silence

A Place for the Placeless the letters curled around the red and white stripes of a circus tent, you continued reading, the name of the circus The Midnight Menagerie was bold in the center. The rest of the text on the bottom of the page detailed information about auditions, looking specifically for a contortionist. You peeled the page off the wall.

The flier stared at you from your refrigerator for weeks. You still have no idea what possessed you to take it from the alley, or to tape it to your refrigerator. The audition date was rapidly approaching and you weren't sure why you were even considering going. Sure, you were trained as a contortionist, but that was years ago. You much preferred ballet, which is what the jobs you had been auditioning for for months have been.

Every so often, when you spot the flier from your living room, you get on the floor and see if you can still do any of your old moves. Luckily, you never quit dancing so it comes back easily, like riding a bike.

"Am I really going to do this?" You wondered out loud to yourself, staring at the flier when you just came into the kitchen for a snack. The audition was in two days. Did you want to be a circus performer? That would pretty much pigeon hole your career. What career? Some cynical part of your mind echoed. You hadn't had any work in months, you could barely pay your rent anymore.

A Place for the Placeless the flier boasted from your refrigerator. That would be nice, to feel like you belong somewhere. Maybe you could actually meet someone besides the catty girls you see at every audition these days.

You paced the floor of your kitchen for so long you were scared you might wear a rut into the floor. You would need a new routine, one that shows off the tricks you haven't practiced in years. What would impress a circus? Who else would be there?

You sighed and began to construct what might be your most desperate idea yet.

You were late, well, almost late. Your shoes smacked the pavement as you ran through the city, lungs burning as you approached the small artist space where the Midnight Menagerie was holding auditions today.

The room was dimly lit when you entered, the person who sat behind the table was settled in the shadows. You squinted to see him, his long dark hair falling over his face as he lifts a hand to greet you.

"Small group," he clicked his tongue. "I was hoping for more options." You look around the room and realization hits you, there is no one else here. "You'll still have to audition, can't just give it to you."

"Of course." You nodded, still feeling a bit excited about the idea of not having to deal with a full casting call. The music for your routine began, which was strange because you didn't remember giving it to anyone. The tricks are difficult and you're still rusty, but you manage to make your way through your routine.

"Impressive." The man stated simply. "Do you have anything else?"

"Uh.." You panicked. "This is what I prepared."

"Not to worry." The man waved his hand and music you had never heard before began to play. "You may improvise." You didn't even have time to wonder how the music was playing, or who else may be here, before you began to dance. You weren't even sure where this determination came from, it's not like you really wanted to join the circus. Thoughts ran through your head about so many things, what moves to do next, what you did wrong in your life to get you to this point.

The man raised his hand and the music cut off abruptly, "I've seen enough."

He was going to cut you, he was going to cut you and you were the only one here.

"I would love for you to join us."

"Welcome my dear," the man from your audition greeted you at the entrance, "to the Midnight Menagerie!" He sweeps his arm behind him, opening the door for you. Upon entering, your greeted by a large empty dimly lit room. You shifted uncomfortably as you waited for him to lock the door behind you. "I'd like you to meet Soonyoung," he said, suddenly beside you. "He will be your guide and you will be working together in your act." He pressed lightly on the small of your back, urging you to walk forward.

He guided you into a smaller, but still quite large, office off of the open space. There was a man waiting inside the office, seated in a small chair next to the ornate desk. The man who you assumed to be the ring leader snapped his fingers and Soonyoung rose from his chair and shuffled over to the two of you.

The first thing you noticed about Soonyoung was his eyes, they were white, pure white, no pupil or anything. Almost like a void. The second thing you noticed about Soonyoung was the makeup. It was probably once very intricately detailed clown-like makeup, but now it was streaked with sweat and worn away with long term wear. If you were being completely honest, Soonyoung scared you a bit.

"Say hello." The ring master whispered to you. You took a step toward Soonyoung, he was quite a bit taller than you, and had a build that you knew would be good for lifts.

"Nice to meet you…" You held out your hand for him to shake.

"He probably won't shake your hand." The ring leader said flatly from behind you. "But he will show you around and then to your quarters for you to get settled. He moved to sit behind his desk, "I have work to do, Soonyoung return to me when you're finished."

Soonyoung took your trunk from you and started walking toward the door. He showed you to the main performance space, there was the classic three ring circus set up with rows and rows of bleachers designed to give everyone the best view of the show. You wandered over to the platform closest to you and did a few pirouettes, the surface was nice for turning and you couldn't see there being an issue with dancing here.

You turned back to where Soonyoung was standing, face void of any emotion, waiting for you. Walking toward him, he turned on his heel and continued down the corridor. The building the circus was housed in was not unlike a maze, you weren't sure how you were ever going to confidently know your way around.

Soonyoung was quite a ways ahead of you, you could still see him, but you were taking your time. If you were going to live here you would like to try and remember at least where the bathroom was. While you were mapping everything out in your mind you felt an odd sensation, like something was pulling you toward the floor. You fell to the ground with a clatter. Soonyoung turned toward you and you could hear him run toward you and stomp something out before helping you up.

He tilted his head at you.

"I'm..okay." You told him awkwardly. He nodded slowly. He points at his mouth and hums a tune lowly and then grabs you by the arm and continues down the corridor.

You let out a scream of frustration, you had been trying to make a routine with the prop, a giant golden cage, work for the entire afternoon. The ringleader had told you that you needed a gimmick and to make it work. However, an entire afternoon of falling off the cage and attempting to do your contortion tricks inside of it was proving to be what felt like your demise.

At present, you were laying on your back underneath the cage, staring up at the top. Your first show was tomorrow and you had absolutely nothing. Absentmindedly, you thought about what might happen if you just laid here like this for your act. You laughed to yourself.

Suddenly, someone's face was in your line of sight. Your eyes flicked over your new company, Soonyoung was stood over you, bent at the waist. His face was blank, but his body language betrayed curiosity.

"I can't think of a single thing for our routine." You informed him. His head tilted to the side before he straightened up to look around the cage. You watched as he explored the perimeter of the cage, his head moved with his exploration. Eventually, he grabbed the parallel bar and hoisted himself up, he kicked his legs over the bar and hung upside down. He pulled himself back up an experimented with different ways to get on and off of the bar. "Why do you know how to do that stuff?" You wondered out loud.

He gestured for you to join him. You rolled your body over the bar and kicked your legs over it, joining in hanging upside down. He kicks down from the bar and takes your body in his arms and effortlessly lifts you down bridal style. He spins you around a few times before returning you to your feet. "That could work.." You whispered trying to keep from blushing. Something about his touch is electric.

You sit on the floor, still under the cage, and begin writing in the notebook you brought with you. You were lost in thought so you didn't see where Soonyoung was for a few moments. His fingers wrapped around your ankle, you look up at him, he was on his hands and knees, staring at you. You furrowed your brow at him, you couldn't make yourself be scared of him. He pulled you to him by your leg and crawled over you so that you were face to face. He put a finger to his lips, you stared at him wide eyed as you heard someone slamming around just outside the main room.

You thought about the moment that Soonyoung protected you from what was happening for the rest of the day until you fell asleep. When you woke up the morning of the show all you could see were his vacant eyes in your head.

Soonyoung was already in your dressing room when you entered that afternoon. He was standing in the middle of the room, waiting for you. He pointed at the rack of costumes provided for you. You moved to it quietly and sorted through the various leotards and bodysuits.

"They're beautiful." You commented, knowing Soonyoung wouldn't respond. You pick one of the leotards off the hanger and draped it over your body, eyeing if it would fit in the floor length mirror. Nodding to yourself you moved to sit at the vanity to start your makeup. Soonyoung stared over your shoulder as you tried to figure out what type of look you were going for.

Once your makeup was done you turned to Soonyoung. "Do you need yours redone?" You asked. He stared at you blankly. You got up from your chair, grabbed his arm, and pulled him to sit on the vanity. You took a cloth and moved toward him. He shook his head frantically. "I can't take it off? He shook his head slowly.

You put the cloth back on the vanity. Curiously, you pull out your face paints and begin to apply makeup over his old makeup. He allowed you to do this, this was somehow the closest you had ever been to his face despite choreographing an entire routine with him the day before. His eyes looked just like normal eyes, the iris and pupil were just gone. It was unsettling to say the least.

You did your best to match the makeup you could see on his skin and he looked refreshed at the end of it. You turned to your vanity and grabbed the leotard from where you slung it over the back of the chair. Slinking behind the changing partition in the room you wondered if Soonyoung could truly see you. He must be able to in some sense, but you weren't sure how. You shimmied into the leotard that somehow was the correct size, the rhinestones were beautiful and it fit you like a glove.

You emerged into the open space of your dressing room and Soonyoung grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze before leading you up to the main performance space.

You woke up with a start the morning of your second show at the Midnight Menagerie. The show from the night before left you energized and excited for what comes next. You stretched your arms over your head, your sore muscles made you feel stiff. Gathering your items for your shower, you hummed the music that accompanied your routine to yourself.

Soon, the shower sputtered to life and rained lukewarm water over your head. You could hear someone shuffling through their own washing in the shower stall next to yours, you continued to hum. Although you were feeling excited about your success last night, you learned rather quickly that you need to keep alert around here, humming the song was a good way of making sure the person next to you would know if something happened to you. Eventually, they joined you in humming the music.

They left the shower room before you, leaving you in the silence of the running water and your own thoughts. Every time you closed your eyes you saw Soonyoung's vacant ones behind your lids. He is some how in tune to your every move despite the clouds over his irises. You needed to find out what was going on.

After you were dressed and you braided your hair you ventured down the hallway to your dressing room. Your soft voice carrying the same song as before alerted the occupant of the room to your arrival. You knew it was Soonyoung without having to see his face, his white purple hair and his stature gave him away. He turned to you as he heard you enter.

Your humming stopped abruptly, the silence in the room deafening, but all you could focus on was his eyes. They were brown.

"Soonyoung?" You asked hesitantly. He nodded.

"That's me." His voice crackled with lack of use. You could tell he didn't quite recognize you and that he hasn't spoken in a very long time.

"My name is Y/N…" You ventured.

"Y/N…" He whispered, tasting your name in his mouth. His voice was different than you expected, softer. "I'm your partner for your act, right?" He tilted his head with the question.

"Yes," you move past him to sit at your vanity. "Do you remember anything?"

"Yes, I think so." He nodded and moved to perch on your vanity. It all felt strange, like you had done this before but not quite. Which you figured was true enough. You glanced up at his face, he was looking down at you, the calculations present on his face. You had never seen him so expressive before, which may be the opposite of what a clown should be. You liked him better this way, expressive and human.

He watched as you pulled your makeup out of the basket you kept it in, lining up each product in the order in which you will apply it.

"Got a light?" Soonyoung asked, you looked back up at him as he placed a cigarette between his lips. You dug through the basket again and pulled out a book of matches. The match sparked to life as you struck it against the matchbox, you held the flame close to the end of his cigarette until you heard the sizzle it catching fire. "Thanks." He smiled, taking it between his fingers.

"No worries, I didn't know you smoked." You offered, sinking back into your chair.

"Me either." He laughed. "Box was in my pocket." Despite the ruined makeup, Soonyoung radiated joy when he smiled.

"How did you end up here?" You asked, starting on your makeup. He took a long drag and blew the smoke into the air above his head.

"I'm not sure I remember." He admitted. "I don't remember much about my life before, and I don't remember anything before you came." The confession punched you straight in the gut. "All I know is that He gives me a place to stay and an opportunity to perform."

"You were a performer before coming here too?"

"Yeah, we all were, right?" He taps ash onto the floor. "I don't remember what exactly it was I was doing, but I know I love to dance."

"Me too." You smile sadly.

"I wish I could remember what you look like when you perform." He smiled at you. He suddenly sat up straighter and began kicking his feet in the air where they dangled just seconds before. "Maybe I can tonight! I remember how to speak, so maybe I can actually see your act!" His sudden excitement made you feel almost giddy. You smile at him as he takes another, much more excited drag, of his cigarette.

"We don't really know each other, why are you so excited?" You asked, the whisper of a tease in your tone.

"Because," he looked down at you seriously now, "I know how performing with you made me feel. I was desperate to break out of whatever spell he has on me." You were taken aback by his words, you were under the impression that he didn't know what was going on when the ringleader had him possessed.

"You know he has a spell on you?" You asked, barely above a whisper.

"That's what I assume it is, and finally, I've woken up."

"I…I hope you stay awake." You admit. You like this version of Soonyoung, open, excitable.

"Me too." He smiled so widely his eyes almost closed. You finished the last few touches of your makeup and stood to face him.

"Let's fix that makeup." You smiled back. "I have no idea what you did before me."

"Let it look like this." He laughed. His legs parted to allow you to stand between them to get closer to his face. Soonyoung you learned in this moment had a habit of looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. You swiped your brush across his face, leaving behind the white face paint you were used to seeing him in and he stared at you almost lovingly. Like he credited you with waking up.

"Stop looking at me like that." You nudge his shoulder.

"Like what?"

"Like I saved you."

"You did, I think." He insisted.

"What are you talking about?" You took a step away from him.

"The first thing I remember in years is the way you sound when you're humming in the shower." He searches your face. "I heard you this morning." As soon as his words hit you his eyes began to cloud over and he was gone.

His eyes were cloudy again. His eyes haven't been brown in days. You stared at him as he stared blankly ahead, waiting for your act to be introduced. You don't think you could go back to this version of him after meeting the real Soonyoung. You barely heard the ring master introduce you before Soonyoung was grabbing your hand and walking out into the light with you.

You straighten your posture, turning on your showmanship for the crowd. Soonyoung leads you around the open room, your outfit sparkling in the lights, until arriving at the ring with a large golden cage. You climb inside and get into position, waiting for the music to begin.

Even while performing, you can't get the image of his vacant eyes out of your head, it didn't help that there were parts of your choreography that you had to look at them. Looking into his eyes like this, it made you uneasy in a way you couldn't stomach.

You forgot to spot your turns. You had been dancing since you were two-years-old and you forgot to spot your turns. You fall with a flourish but you still manage to land with your weight on your hip. Soonyoung rushed to you as the lights cut out. You could tell that he was trying to break out of his trance, his eyes trying to clear. There was screaming somewhere in the distance.

"Get up, you're coming with me." The gruff voice of the ring leader rang in your ear.

He threw you into Soonyoung's chair after he dragged you from the main room. You looked around for Soonyoung himself, to no avail. "I've dismissed him for now. My issue at present is with you." He hissed.

"What did I do?"

"What did you do?" He loomed over you. "You made us look like fools!"

"I fell." You turned up your nose, trying to feign confidence.

"We don't make mistakes like that around here."

"What is this really about?" You sneered.

"Listen here you little bitch," he leaned forward and placed his hands on the arms of the chair. "We don't make mistakes and I am starting to think you might not be what we're looking for around here."

"Soonyoung seems to like me."

"What makes you think Soonyoung has any say in what happens here." He chuckled darkly. "Soonyoung can't even speak unless I allow it." He spins the chair around and dumps you onto the floor. "And I suggest you do the same, little bird." He stalks toward you and kicks the hip you fell on earlier. "You mean nothing to Soonyoung, and you can't leave."

"I'm your only act," you wince. "You need me."

"Precisely why you can't leave. You're a star." He moves to sit behind his desk. "A bird in a guilded cage is still a bird." He slams a replica of the cage from your act on the surface of his desk. "Remember that, you may go."

"Is something bothering you?" Soonyoung asked tentatively from his usual perch on your vanity. Something in his tone squeezed your heart, you felt bad for icing him out a bit after the events of the night previous. Your eyes bore into the reflection of yourself in the mirror in front of you, not wanting to make him any more suspicious than he already was.

"I'm fine." You muttered before moving to apply more mascara. You could feel his eyes, brown and warm, as he tracked your movements, he observed the delicate way you held the makeup and the concentration you typically did not have on days he was able to join you for your pre-show routine. Wordlessly, he slid off the table and moved to stand behind your chair.

His makeup was streaked with sweat, and maybe tears, the darker facepaint around his eyes tracking down his face. He made eye contact with you in the mirror and you knew you had no chance to lie to him anymore. His eyes stayed trained on yours as he moved closer to your neck, for a terrifying moment you thought he might kiss you there. The only sound in the room for several moments was the rhythm of your breaths as they mingled together.

Soonyoung closed the gap and nuzzled his nose into the flesh of your neck. You watched as his eyes fluttered closed, inhaling before his breath fanned over your skin. He stayed there. inhaling and exhaling, for several moments. The moment seemed to drag on forever and you were frozen waiting to see what he did next. His eyes snapped open and reconnected with yours in the mirror, his pupils were blown.

"What did he do to you?" His voice rattled through you, filled with gravel and malice that wasn't there moments ago. You shook your head. "You smell like fear." He informed you. "So, what did he do to you?" Something about his commanding tone and the way he could identify your fear made you all the more nervous.

"It's nothing, Soonyoung." You croaked, the timidness of your tone surprising even yourself.

"There's no need to be scared of me…" He nuzzled back into your neck. Suddenly, it was all too much. He was too close, or not close enough, his makeup was smearing on your neck.

"I'm not." You assured him, with more conviction. You stood out of your chair suddenly, knocking Soonyoung back. He scrambled back, almost as if he was suddenly aware of what had just happened. His eyes were still warm and brown and Soonyoung so you knew he was aware and lucid, but smelling someone's fear is intimate. He stared back at you curiously, unsure what you were doing out of your chair. "You need your makeup fixed, sit." He nodded at you and sunk into your chair.

You rifled through your makeup and fished out your face paint. Turning around, you found Soonyoung staring up at you, his eyes round. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm fragile."

"You're not, and I'm not looking at you like you are." He informed you, his eyes still sparkling. You dip your brush into the white face paint and begin to pack it onto his cheeks. You began to grow frustrated with the angle you have to work with. You attempt to switch the way you are painting onto his face, to no avail.

"Can I try something?" You huffed. Soonyoung nodded and you wasted no time, you climb into his lap and cage his hips with your thighs. You begin to paint the details onto his face as his hands hesitantly laid on your hips. The silk of your dressing gown cooled his sweaty palms.

A smile played at your lips as his eyes wildly looked everywhere, except you. You weren't aware you had that effect on him. His fingers began toying with the bunched fabric, the threads rubbing together under his fidgeting.

"I'll get called back soon," he whispered to the ceiling.

"So sit still and let me work." You replied simply. His fingers stilled for a moment as he dared to sneak a glance at your face. Your brows were knit in concentration, white face paint smudged across your cheek. His hand floated up to cradle you, thumb swiping your cheek bone gently. You leaned into his touch as you finished the last bit of his makeup, the nose. He hummed at the clear indication you enjoyed his gentle touch.

"Turn around, finish your makeup, I'll be here until I can't be."

You nodded and turned on his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist as you began to apply blush to your cheeks. Soonyoung watched you over your shoulder in the mirror as you delicately applied the detailed makeup for your act. The feathers were Soonyoung's favorite part, they made you look like a hummingbird. He missed hummingbirds.

Suddenly, he went rigid behind you. You watched in the mirror as the clouds returned to his eyes, blocking out the beautiful brown irises. Sighing, you climbed out of his lap and took his usual spot on your vanity. Wordlessly, Soonyoung rose from your chair and exited the room without looking back. It was stupid to cry over the inevitable, but you did anyway.

Soonyoung stuck his cigarette between his lips and stretched his arms over his head. You eyed him curiously as you run your brush through your hair.

"Are you intending to spend your only day off with me, Soonyoung?"

"Would you mind if I did, Birdie?" He teased. Despite the light tone of the question, your blood ran cold.

"Why did you call me that?" You turn to him. He was perched on your vanity, just like any other day. He stared at you, taking his cigarette between his fingers.

"I'm..not sure." He shared earnestly. "Do you hate it?"

"Coming from you…I don't think I do." You smiled at him. He smiled back. He watched your smile falter slightly. You eyed him warily. "You're not doing this just to keep tabs on me, are you?"

"What?" His bottom jutted out like you had just broken his heart. "Look at me, you'd know if I was just here to report your hair brushing routine."

"I'm doing more today than brushing my hair!" You smacked his arm with the back of the hair brush.

"Ow!" He dramatically held his arm. "Careful, or you won't have a partner for your act!" He took a long drag of his cigarette, giving you a moment to study him carefully. His jawline was sharp with the inhale, his eyes closed, his eyelashes falling across his skin. Face stained with the face paint from when you did his makeup the night before.

"Do you ever take off your makeup?"

"I'm not supposed to." He shook his head. "I have to keep up appearances."

"Do you think I could…" You wet a towel with some of your cleanser and look up at him. He nodded. Gently you wash the makeup off of his face. With every pass of the cloth his features became less and less muddled. His cheekbones sat high, in combination with his squared off jaw his face was angular but somehow soft at the same time. His lips were full, his cupid's bow beautifully arched. "Beautiful." You breathed.

His eyes fluttered open, he looked up at you from where he was sitting. His eyes were wide, as if he hadn't realized how close you were to him before now. His gaze flickered to your lips, only for a second before you were kissing him. It was as if kissing him broke something within Soonyoung, his hands were all over you, he kissed back hungrily.

"I haven't," he broke away from your lips, "I haven't kissed someone in so long." He breathed.

"That's okay, as long as it's okay that it's me your kissing." You chased his lips.

"Of course," he pecked your mouth, "I've been wanting to." Butterflies exploded in your stomach at his simple confession, you knew there was something between you but just hearing his confirmation made you feel girlish. He raked his fingers through your hair, "you should wear it like this more often, it's pretty." Heat rose in your cheeks, you knew you were blushing.

He smiled and leaned back in to kiss you again. His lips slotted between yours, his hunger for you returning. Hands found your hips as he pulled you closer, spreading his legs so you could stand between them as he continued to sit on your vanity. Your fingers splayed on his thighs as his tongue swiped against your bottom lip and barely waited for you to grant him entrance before pushing into your mouth. Soonyoung tasted like tobacco and something sweet, figures that a clown would taste like candy. One of his hands left your hip to grip your long hair.

He pulled you back from him by your hair, it wasn't exactly painful but it wasn't a comforting tug. Your eyes fluttered open to see Soonyoung staring past you in horror. Your stomach dropped as you saw him tensed and the clouds attempting to return to his eyes.

"No…" You could barely hear your own voice, it sounded like you were underwater. You watched Soonyoung's lips form I'm sorry before the clouds completely covered his brown irises. returning them to the blank white slate. Soonyoung pushed you to the ground and you watched as he slunk out the door, past the man standing just a foot inside your dressing room.

He walked toward you, squating next to where you were slumped on the floor.

"I'll deal with you later," he moved the hair out of your face, so you could see him. "Don't ever try this shit again." With that, he swept out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"I could hurt you, I could kill him." The ring leader growls at you. "You're stupid for thinking you could sneak around with him like this."

"What are you talking about?" You call from your vanity.

Sleep did not come easily to you after the events of your day off yesterday. You never knew when the ring leader would come for you, or what he was going to do. However, you have long realized the best way to protect yourself, and in some ways Soonyoung, was to pretend you didn't care. Of course, you did care, and you were very scared almost every minute.

"Don't play dumb." He seethed. "Do not touch him, do not think of him."

"I'll do as I please."

"You will not." He brought his hand back and landed a smack to your cheek. It stung and the metal of his rings cut through your skin. "There is nothing waiting for him, no one would know if he lived or died. So I suggest you keep your mouth shut from now on and keep to yourself." He wiped the blood from your cheek. "You don't want blood on your hands, do you little bird?"

You couldn't even cry, not in front of him. Moreover, you were shocked at the boldness of his methods. You never expected him to hit you, or threaten to kill Soonyoung. You shook your head.

"That's what I thought." He took your hair brush and smashed the mirror on your vanity. "I didn't want it to have to come to this, you're talented, you bring in a nice crowd. I'd like to keep you."

You looked at the broken bits of the mirror all over your makeup.

"Get ready, you have a show to do."

You let yourself cry once he was gone, you couldn't do your makeup with glass everywhere and no mirror. Soonyoung would be here soon and he could help you.

Except, Soonyoung never came. You waited for as long as you could but he never showed up. You could only cry until it was time for the show to start. You kept your hair down for the show.

Soonyoung didn't look at you when you joined him backstage. He once again only stared straight ahead. He led you out onto the floor once you were announced. Your outfit and the tears still on your cheeks sparkled in the light. Soonyoung didn't miss a beat in your routine, he even kept you on track at times.

His eyes remained clouded over, but you knew he could tell something was wrong. In the rests in your act he reached out to caress your hair. He ran his hands through it several times. His face remained stoic but his movements became frantic and choppy.

"Stop looking at me like that." You whispered through gritted teeth. You could not handle him being in this state yet he still seemed to care for you. How were you to know if it was a trick from the ring leader or not. He lifted you above his head without another pass at your hair.

The routine was done to perfection on the surface, for all the audience knew he was supposed to do all of that, but as a performer that had been working with him for months you knew he was not okay.

Once the two of you were backstage he held your face in his hands. He did nothing else, he did not speak. However, his brown eyes blinked into view for a fraction of a second before he was gone.

The cool water splashed on your face, shocking your senses. The soap bubbled in your hands and you scrubbed it into your skin, removing the rest of the makeup on your skin. Eyes closed, you thought over the performance. Soonyoung's eyes were white and cloudy but clearly he was able to see through it, at least a little bit, considering he noticed the new streak of white in your hair before you did. You would be lying if you said you understood what was happening lately.

Blindly you grabbed your towel and patted your face dry. When you opened your eyes you nearly screamed, Soonyoung was standing over your shoulder, visible in the mirror. He held a finger to his lips and disappeared down the hallway. You quickly gathered your things and followed in the direction he went.

You found him in the shower room, two of the showers were already on and he was turning the faucet of the third and final one on. When he emerged you could see his eyes were brown again. The showers were filling the room with steam, making his already sweat soaked makeup look worse. He moved toward you, backing you into the door behind you, closing the distance between your bodies he reached behind you and turned the bolt lock.

"Soonyoung…what's going on?" You whispered, a bit disappointed that he didn't take the opportunity to kiss you.

"Can't talk against the door, Birdie." He rasped, his eyes flicked down to where his body pressed against yours, seemingly realizing how close you were just then. "C'mere." He pulled you to the middle shower stall by the tie on your dressing robe.

"You can't get in the shower in your clothes, they'll get ruined." You insisted, your eyes taking in his costume. His eyes flickered with something akin to excitement when yours returned to them.

"Take 'em off me then."

You blinked at him a few times before nodding, your shaking hands reaching to undo the ruffled collar around his neck. His hands found their place on your hips, wearing circles into your hip, the silky fabric of your robe separating your skin from his. You let the collar flutter to the ground as your hands move to the buttons on the front of his shirt. One by one each button is undone and revealing a new swath of skin. You peel the shirt from his shoulders, leaving him shirtless in front of you. Your fingers trailed the hard ridge of his muscles, you knew he was strong, considering he lifts you with ease during your act, but you never imagined that this is what was hiding underneath his shirt.

"Pick up the pace, we don't have all the time in the world." He sighed, wishing he could relish in your touch and be in this moment with you forever. A glint of metal hanging from his nipple caught your eye, you flicked it in retaliation to his words. Soonyoung stifled a moan.

"Freak." You whispered.

"Think about where you are." He looked down at you as you began to fiddle with his pants. "Did you think I wasn't?"

"Well, not like that." You slipped your fingers in the waistband of his pants. "Besides how would you remember?"

"Too far." He growled, catching your hands and tearing them away. He moved quickly to the tie of your dressing gown. "I know how you make me feel, isn't that enough?" He tore the robe from your body, leaving you bare in the middle of the room. His eyes raked down your body, you squirmed under his gaze. "Beautiful." He whispered. Quickly, his pants were off and you tried to look anywhere but where his cock was stiff and leaking.

He pushed you into the shower stall and crowded you against the wall under the warm water. His lips found your neck, close to where he nuzzled his nose just a few days ago. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"Are you just trying to fuck me, Soonyoung?" Your voice came out more timid that you meant it to. Your hands found purchase on his biceps.

"No," he breathed into your neck, goosebumps rising where his saliva was coating your skin. "But I'll do that too if you'd like."

"What do you need to talk about?"

"You need to get out of here." He sighed pulling back to look at you. "He's trying to turn you into another servant." His fingers ghosted over your legs, heat pooled in your belly. "Someone like me."

"How do you know?" Your voice quivered as one of his hands cupped your breast and gave an experimental squeeze.

"Your hair, that's how it starts." He buried his face in the crook of your neck and pinched your nipple. "It's turning white, it started after he threatened you." He used his hand not busy with your breast to slowly spread your legs apart slightly. His fingers drag through your folds lightly. "Wet." He comments simply.

"How do you know he threatened me?" You tried not to moan at the soft strokes of his fingers.

"I was there, lover." He watched your face as you tried to contain yourself. "You didn't see me, and he didn't know I was lucid, but I was there." He pressed the pad of his middle finger to that delicious bundle of nerves, you squirmed. "It took everything in me to not break the illusion then, I wanted to rip his throat out with my teeth for talking to you that way." His fingers continued their ruminations through your cunt.

"Why," you whined as he dipped his fingers shallowly into your entrance and leaving just as quickly. "Why didn't you?"

"I need him to think he still has me." His thumb began circling your clit. "If I jump too early you can't escape." He increased the pressure of his fingers, your hips sputter and the coil in your stomach winds itself tighter. "I need you out of here."

"Come with me."

"No." He watched your eyes roll as he suddenly slips two fingers inside of you. "It's too late for me. I know too much, he'd send someone after me." His fingers slide in and out of you, sometimes pressing into the spot that drove you crazy with ease.

"And he won't send anyone for me?" You began to buck your hips, riding his fingers slowly.

"Doubt it, unfortunately you aren't first and you're probably not the last." His other hand moves from your breast to wrap around his cock. You watch as he works you close to your release and pumps his own length, fucking you with his hand and fucking himself with the other.

The visual was all too much, you squeezed your eyes shut and felt yourself tumble over the edge. Soonyoung's hand was off his cock and clamped over your mouth as your orgasm took over. He continued to fuck his fingers into your core as you rode it out.

"Shh, be a good girl and be quiet for me." He cooed. As you began to come down you cracked your eyes open. Soonyoung was close to your face, his makeup almost completely washed away. Slowly, he removed his hand and replaced it with his mouth, he tasted like a mixture of sweat and the water pouring out of the shower head. His lips were soft and they moved in sync with yours. His tongue swiped across your bottom lip and you parted your lips to allow him to explore your mouth.

It was you who pulled away first, "fuck me, Soonyoung, you said you would."

"Will you let me help you escape?"

"Yes."

He hoisted you up effortlessly, your back against the shower wall and your legs around his waist. He used the wall and one of his hands to hold you in place and used the other hand to line himself up with your entrance. He eased you onto his cock slowly. The stretch felt delicious as he bottomed out and returned his hand to your thigh. You felt his fingers digging into your skin but you didn't care. Not in the slightest.

"Are you okay, Birdie?"

You couldn't help but moan at the question. His hand returned to its place over your mouth as he began to fuck up into you. You felt every inch of him sliding in and out of your soaked cunt. You draped your arms over his shoulders, one hand raking your nails over the expanse of his back, the other tangling in his hair.

His eyes were wild, boring into yours. "You feel perfect, I knew you would." He grunted quietly. His fingers were digging into your skin, at your thigh and on your cheek. The water was still running over your bodies. You felt so full, a fullness you hadn't felt in a long time.

Soonyoung clearly hadn't felt the warm embrace of a cunt around his cock in a long time either, he began desperately pounding into you, his thrusts becoming sloppy. "Cum with me, please, I need it." He begged. You hadn't realized how quickly your second orgasm was approaching until you heard the whine in his voice. You felt out of control, your hips bucking as best as they could in this position. Soon you felt Soonyoung release inside you, never slowing down his thrusts, allowing you to ride out the orgasm that him finishing inside of you triggered. White hot pleasure mounted in your belly and it took everything in you to stay quiet.

Soonyoung pulled out of you slowly, his cock softening and falling limply. He set you gently back down on your feet. "Let me help you get cleaned up." He sank to his knees and held your thighs as he lapped up his own cum from your spent cunt. His tongue slid through your folds making you shiver with overstimulation, he anchored your hips with his hands, crushing your cunt to his mouth. He spit a few mouthfuls down the drain and delivered a kiss to your clit before rising and kissing your lips. He tasted like a mixture of yours and his own spend.

Soonyoung insisted the two of you move quietly and quickly back to your room. His hand was grasped in yours as he ran down the hall, dragging you behind him. As soon as you stepped foot into the room Soonyoung closed the door behind you and moved to your closet.

"Do you need everything?" He looked over his shoulder at you.

"No…I don't think so…" You sat on the bed and watched him sort through the few clothes you brought with you. He pulled out a turtleneck sweater and some jeans. He couldn't have known, but he picked your favorite sweater. You shook your head.

"What's wrong?" He turned to you and tossed the clothes on the bed next to you.

"I can't, not without you." Tears burned in your eyes as you watched him fall to his knees in front of you.

"Birdie, you have to." His fingers splayed over your thighs, his eyes searching yours pleadingly.

"What about you?" You whispered.

"I'll be fine, it's too late for me."

"It's not!" You insisted taking his face in your hands.

"It is." He leaned into your touch. "He can call me at any moment, I'm lucky I've been able to be here with you for this long." You knew he was right, dread settled in your stomach. Leaving Soonyoung here was suddenly your worst nightmare.

"I'll come back for you."

"I knew it." His eyes sparkled mischievously. "Fell in love with my cock, you're obsessed with me."

"Soonyoung." You bristled. "I'm being serious."

"So am I." He squeezed your thighs. "So listen when I say this: do not try to save me."

"But—"

"I'm beyond saving, Birdie." He rose to his feet and pressed his lips to your forehead. "We both know it, no use prolonging it."

He helped you dress in silence. It was disorienting, his eyes being brown but he wasn't saying a word. He didn't want to tell you that there was a pain in his chest that could double him over if he wasn't used to excruciating pain. He didn't want you to leave, you were the only thing that made his miserable life worth living. He liked remembering and talking and you. He wasn't sure he was ready to give all that up, but he had to. For you.

He draped your coat over your shoulders. "It has to be getting cold by now." He mumbled as you shoved your arms through the sleeves. He pulled the hood over your head. "You'll be a fugitive in his eyes soon, keep your head down and don't look back." You nodded. "You ready?"

"If I have to be." You let a tear fall. Soonyoung swiped it from your cheek.

"You do." He lightly pressed his lips to yours, you knew it was a goodbye. He slipped his hand into yours and gave you a nod before taking off down the hall with you. At first you thought you were heading to the front entrance until Soonyoung took a sharp turn down a corridor you don't remember ever seeing before. Do you understand what might happen if Soonyoung broke free? The ringleader's voice rang in your ears.

"You're not supposed to see this." Soonyoung whispered as you approach a nondescript door off the side of the hallway.

"See what?" You peered around Soonyoung. "It's just a door."

"What's beyond the door, Birdie, come on." He knocked lightly on the top of your head. "You're smarter than this."

"It's our last moments together and you're using them to make fun of me?" You shoved him lightly. "Why do you know what's behind it?"

"I thought you knew who I was." He smirked. "I'm important around here." He turned the door knob and threw the door open.

You weren't sure what you were expecting when the door opened. It wasn't this. Behind the door there was a swirling light, it shifted from white to blue to purple, sometimes it was every color all at once. You took a step toward it and Soonyoung caught you around the waist.

"Easy there, tiger." His thumb drew circles into your hip, you were starting to realize this was a nervous habit of his. "You need a few instructions before you leap in." His face was illuminated by the glow beyond the doorway, making him look angelic. You wiped all of his makeup off when you showered together, washing away all the grime.

"I wasn't going to walk in, I just wanted a better look." You leaned closer to his body, letting him hold you close.

"I need you to think about home." He whispered in your ear. "Think about your bed, warm and waiting for you." He coaxed.

"Soonyoung what are you—"

"No." He shushed you. "This can only work if you trust me and do as I say. We're running out of time, I feel him getting restless." You nod and close your eyes, thinking of your apartment. Your bed began to materialize in your mind. "Good." You heard Soonyoung murmur. He sounded a thousand miles away. His lips were on your forehead. "Take a step back for me," His voice was broken.

You do as your told. You opened your eyes, Soonyoung had tears streaming down his face and clouds forming in his eyes. He closed the door slowly, his lips were forming goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. You would scream if you thought it wouldn't alert the ringmaster.

It was too bright, you were blinded as you fell through the nothingness. Your stomach flipped, falling for what felt like hours. You squeezed your eyes shut, something telling you to brace for impact. The light surrounding you became brighter, the roaring became louder and then, suddenly, nothing. Everything stopped.

You sat up in your bed gasping for air.

Your eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, your room, your apartment. The room is exactly how you left it two months ago, your dance clothes strewn about. You threw your covers off your body and sprinted to the bathroom. You flipped on the lights and looked at yourself in the mirror.

The white in your hair was gone.

You don't know when you started crying. Probably shortly after you realized it was all a dream. None of it was real, Soonyoung, the circus, everything was some twisted joke from your subconscious. You drag yourself back to your bed, you wrapped yourself in your blankets as the tears stream down your face. It felt so real. You could still feel Soonyoung's lips on your skin.

The clock on your bedside table read 2:14 am. You fell into a fitful sleep, dreams swirled behind your eyelids. Nothing concrete, more like fleeting visions. Soonyoung's brown eyes, the circus, your act. Eventually, at 7:00 am you decide to cut your losses and make coffee. You felt like a zombie going through the motions. Mug from the cabinet, coffee grounds from the pantry, waiting for the pot to boil.

You shuffle back to your room to look for job listings. The coffee takes a few moments to hit your system, but when it does you only feel slightly more alive. After finding a few potential auditions, you untangle yourself from your chair and pad to the bathroom for a shower.

Your clothes fall to the floor as the water heats up. You stretch your arms over your head, your tight muscles loosening only slightly, and something on your leg catches your eye. You turn fully toward the mirror and gasp.

There were purple fingerprint bruises littering your thighs.

There was a roaring in his ears, whether it was the crowd waiting for him or the anger coursing through his body, Soonyoung wasn't sure. He bounced on his heels, waiting for the ringleader to introduce your act, the act he will be doing alone. His eyes bored into the side of his captor's head as the man's voice boomed throughout the big top.

When the ringleader made way for what he thought would be your act, with Hoshi assisting as always. However, only Soonyoung was walking out into the center of the ring, the cage you should be in is empty. He could see the anger rolling off of the ringleader from his spot in the center of the room. Good, that was the goal, the circus would collapse right now if Soonyoung had his way.

The clown went through the motions as if you were with him, there was an uncomfortable hush over the audience. They were unsure if they were supposed to clap or look on in horror as the performance in front of them unraveled. Soonyoung looked nothing short of terrifying, his makeup streamed down his face, his blond hair was wild and unkempt.

As the end of the performance neared, the ringleader stood from his seat in the audience, staring Soonyoung down as he made a mockery of the circus he worked so hard to build. The music crescendoed and dropped off, leaving the entire building cloaked in silence. After a few seconds there were a few stray applause. Soonyoung stared right at the ring leader, holding eye contact he lowered into a disjointed bow. They stayed there, staring at each other for several seconds before the lights in the building cut out. Soonyoung felt an icy cold hand scruff the back of his neck and pull him out of the main space.

"You let her go!" The ringleader shoved Soonyoung against the wall of the large office. "You absolute fool!"

"That's what you prefer me to be, isn't it?" Soonyoung smirked in the face of his captor. The ringleader pressed the clown's windpipe under his forearm.

"Since when do you think for yourself, Soonyoung?" The ringleader spat, pressing further against his neck. "You can't."

"Someone," Soonyoung's ragged breaths filled the room, "keeps lying to me."

"What are you talking about?"

"Give it up," Soonyoung smiled, "I know everything."

"I could kill you, you know?" The ringleader flicked a switchblade out of his pocket.

"Running the risk of Y/N squealing to the cops, just for them to find my body?"

"That's a risk I'm willing to take."

"Right." Soonyoung brought up his foot and landed a kick to his captor's knee, causing him to fall backward. "Because you're a demon, aren't you? Daddy can call you back to Hell at any time, so why would it matter?" He kicked the hand that is clutching the switchblade and it skittered across the cement floor.

"What are you talking about Soonyoung?" The ringleader watched the knife as it escaped his grasp. "You've known me for years." He returned his gaze to Soonyoung's, only realizing now that his eyes were brown. He had no control. He attempted to regain that control over his clown. The ringleader watched as the clouds stormed in Soonyoung's eyes, his neck tensing and his veins pulsing as he fought the possession. The clouds retreated, leaving Soonyoung's eyes brown and wild. He looked catatonic.

"Known you for years?" Soonyoung squatted down next to the ringleader and cocked his head. "Maybe I've been here for years, but I have never known you." He moved his foot to step on the other man's fingers. "You made it so that I don't remember anything about my life, you're the reason I couldn't think for myself. And yet, I don't know a single thing about you." He increased the pressure on the hand under his boot, the ringleader yelping in pain.

"You said you know everything!" The ringleader shouted, looking pleadingly at his now broken fingers under Soonyoung's foot.

"Not everything." Soonyoung shifted to shove his knee into the demon's chest. "What do you want with us?" Soonyoung watched as some of the demon's hair began sprouting white, right from the roots. "Are you getting scared now?" He smiled wickedly.

"I need it to live." The ringleader choked. "Your fear, your subservience, I need it."

"Well, we're at a crossroads then, demon." Soonyoung pressed his knee into the man's chest harder. "I'm not scared of you anymore."

"You should be."

"No, you're powerless aren't you?" Soonyoung asked, voice dripping in a venom he didn't even know he possessed. "You can't possess me, can you Phobos?" The demon's body suddenly burned with white hot pain everywhere Soonyoung was touching him.

"What have you done?" Phobos cried. His leathery wings materialized beneath him as he thrashed with pain, trying to shake Soonyoung off.

Soonyoung pinned the demon to the floor with his knee.

"All I needed was your name. Next time keep a better lock on your books and always know where your clown is at all times." Phobos' body began to disintegrate under Soonyoung's hold. He watched as the demon's skin began to crack, revealing the pitch black soul underneath.

Soonyoung jumped back from the body on the floor as a large chasm opened up beneath it, sickly looking hands with talons emerged and pulled Phobos through. This banishment wouldn't hold forever, Soonyoung knew that much, but enough time for him to escape and hopefully find you.

Over the next few years, the Midnight Menagerie faded into a low burn in the back of your mind. Sometimes you still had nightmares, but for the most part you were able to move on with your life. You had a steady job, you could pay your bills and still have some left over every month.

For all intents and purposes you should be happy. That would be, if it weren't for how often you thought about Soonyoung. For a few months you looked for him, you looked for any evidence that he and the circus were real. You knew they were, but you couldn't find any evidence of them ever existing. Which, admittedly, made sense considering you had never heard anything about it until the ring master wanted you to. Still, leaving Soonyoung behind was one of your greatest regrets.

Everything reminded you of him, every person on the street looked like him some days.

You flipped the calendar on your desk, a purple X stared back at you. Today was the two year anniversary of your escape. You blinked in disbelief, how could you forget? Maybe that's what was supposed to happen, you'll never heal but it will get easier every year. It had to.

After work, you decided you deserved a treat and you walked to the bakery down the block. On your way there the people blurred together and once again everyone seemed to bare a resemblance to Soonyoung.

"One pistachio pastry, please." You smiled meekly at the person behind the bakery counter. You recieved your treat and payed the woman at the register.

Pushing through the door you peeled back the parchment paper it was wrapped in so you could eat it on your way home. Suddenly, you collided with something solid, sending your pastry tumbling down onto the sidewalk. You opened your mouth to tell this person off for stopping in the middle of the walkway but he was already apologizing.

"Oh gosh," He squatted down to pick the now ruined pastry up. "I'm so sorry, I was trying to remember where I was going and I just didn't realize how busy this street is at this time of night and—"

"It's fine." You sighed, cutting off his rambling. "Today was already a shit day. No worries." He stood, his hands were full of pistachio pastry. You could barely look at him because you knew he would just remind you of Soonyoung.

"Do you want me to throw this out..?" He asked, looking around for a trashcan.

"Ugh." You grab it from him and turn to your left, where a trashcan was waiting for you. "I got it. Have a good night."

"Wait." He grabbed your hand, something familiar shot through your body. "Do I know you?" You allowed yourself to look at him, really look at him. His eyes were brown.

"Soonyoung?" You whispered.

"Oh my God." His eyes welled with tears. He pulled you to his chest and wrapped his arms around you tightly. His lips were pressing kisses into your hair and his thumb was wearing circles into your hip.

"Your hair is black."

SOONYOUNG IS AN EASY ALPHA TO READ. As someone who wears his heart on his sleeve and his emotions on his face, you rarely have a problem reading him now that you know him well enough. Plus, whatever isn't on his face or in his tone is usually coming directly from the source himself, never the one to shy away from communicating exactly what he thinks of something.

So it's unusual when you realize on a Friday afternoon that something is wrong with Soonyoung but you don't quite know what that something is.

The sun is slanting through the western windows of the house, turning the floors honey-warm and catching the dust motes floating lazily through the air. You're curled into the corner of the sectional - a spot that has become yours over the last few weeks - with a book in your lap. It's some novel that Wonwoo recommended and that you're half paying attention to because Mingyu keeps singing off-key in the kitchen where he's baking and because there's base thrumming from Jihoon's studio basement, vibrating up through the couch into your spine.

It's the kind of afternoon that's calm but doesn't exactly leave space for reading, especially when Chan flops down on the couch next to you, immediately pushing into your side to nuzzle close and lay his head in your lap.

"Hi," he sighs dreamily, tilting his head back to look up at you. "This okay?"

You grin, running your fingers through his hair. "Of course it is."

He nearly purrs under your touch, melting into your lap as he settles, his dark hair soft against your fingers as he gets comfortable with one arm draped over his stomach and the other hanging off the edge of the couch. He smells like the laundry detergent the pack uses, warm and clean and the distinct lavender and sea salt smell that is so him.

Putting the book down, you continue to stroke his hair, feeling him relax into your lap, heavy and solid. You smile. You like this - you're glad that you finally have figured this out, the intimacy that's both physical and mental, both casual and sexual. Now that you've finally settled and figured them out, this kind of contact is easy. Welcome. Craved.

The afternoon light catches the side of Chan's face and you notice the faint freckles across his nose, the way his face is soft, eyes closed and content as he drifts. It's moments like this that make you understand why the pack works and why fourteen people in one house don't feel chaotic and feel like this instead.

Soonyoung's voice is what cuts through the silence, reminding you that the pack has its bad days too. You turn to look over the back of the couch the way his voice is coming, cutting through the ambient noise like a knife. Chan shifts too, the beta making an unhappy noise as he cracks an eye open.

"I said I would handle it, Seokmin," Soonyoung snaps somewhere. You straighten, the alpha's voice rigid and more severe than you're used to hearing. "So stop."

"I'm just trying to help." Seokmin's calmer voice barely reaches you, careful and placating. You can hear his confusion even without seeing his face. "If you'd just listen-"

"I don't need to listen."

Footsteps keep your attention pinned to the entryway from the hall. Soonyoung rounds the corner into the living room and the sight of him makes something in your chest clench. His jaw is tight, muscle twitching beneath the skin, and his shoulders are drawn up and rigid. There's something wild in his eyes that make your instincts prickle, a warning bell going off in the back of your head that's telling you there's an alpha in distress.

Seokmin trails behind him with his hands raised in a gesture of peace, his expression caught somewhere between apologetic and frustrated. He's still in his work clothes, dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and tie loosened around his neck, but the tension in his neck has nothing to do with Soonyoung.

Your book is long forgotten. Chan's head is turned in your lap, watching as Soonyoung storms into the room, Seokmin behind him. Seokmin looks at you before his eyes dart meaningfully between you and Chan, a silent request. You understand immediately and pat Chan gently. The beta stirs immediately, unfolding from your lap with a quick kiss to your forehead before he heads toward Seokmin.

"Help me with something in the kitchen?" Chan asks Seokmin, reaching for him.

"Sure," Seokmin sighs, moving toward the hallway. He shoots you one last look, mouthing thank you as he follows Chan out of the room, leaving you alone on the couch.

The moment they're gone, Soonyoung is moving toward you, his agitation evaporating. He falls onto the couch, settling against you instantly, head finding the curve where your shoulder meets your neck, his arms wrapping around you as he breathes you in.

"Hi," he says quietly, voice muffled as he presses in closer. "You smell good."

His scent washes over you as he burrows closer, deep teakwood with an undercurrent of warmth that you've come to associate with him, though there's something slightly off about it now. Something sharp and acidic underneath. It makes your nose wrinkle slightly even as your omega instincts purr at his proximity.

"Hi," you murmur, tugging him further into you.

"What are you reading?"

"Something Wonwoo recommended."

He hums, a low sound in the back of his throat, and leans even closer to peer at the cover. You can feel the heat of him along your side, can see the way his hair falls into his eyes as he tilts his head. "Is it good?"

"It's okay. It's a little slow."

"Do you want company? I can sit with you."

There's something almost desperate in the offer, something that makes your chest tight. You study his face, trying to understand what just happened, trying to reconcile the alpha who just snapped at Seokmin with the one who's looking at you now like he might die if you say no. You'd never say no, though, so you smile and nod.

"Always," you say softly, and watch the way relief floods his expression like sunrise breaking over water. “Just keep the teeth away, yeah?”

He nods and shifts, adjusting his position so he's lying more fully against you, his head pillowed on your thigh where Chan had been moments before. The weight of him is different, heavier and more solid, radiating a heat that seems to seep through the fabric of your leggings and into your skin. One of his arms wraps around your leg, holding on like you might disappear if he doesn't anchor himself to you.

Without thinking, you card your fingers through his hair, and the effect is immediate. He melts. There's no other word for it as the tension that had been coiled through his shoulders and jaw just dissolves under your touch, his whole body going soft and pliant against you. A sound escapes him, something between a sigh and a groan, and he presses his face harder against your thigh.

"That feels nice," he mumbles. "Don't stop doing that."

You smile, continuing the gentle motion, your fingers sliding through the dark strands. His hair is softer than you expected, still slightly mussed from where he'd been running his hands through it earlier, and you work through the tangles with careful attention. Each pass of your fingers seems to pull more tension from him, until he's practically boneless against you, his breathing evening out into something slow and deep.

The afternoon light has shifted, no longer streaming directly through the windows but casting everything in a softer, golden glow. That's when you notice it again. That off note in his scent. It's subtle, easy to miss if you weren't paying attention, but it's there, sharp and acidic beneath the familiar teakwood warmth, like something fermented or turned. It makes your nose wrinkle slightly, your omega instincts prickling with a vague sense of concern. You've never smelled him like this before. Usually his scent is all warmth and depth, grounding and steady, but this is different.

You frown slightly, your fingers pausing in his hair as you try to place what it reminds you of. Your first thought is rut, that sharp, aggressive edge that alphas get when their biology starts to take over, but you dismiss it almost immediately. You've been with the pack long enough now to know everyone's schedules, the careful tracking system they use to make sure no one's caught off guard. Soonyoung isn't due for a rut for at least another three weeks. You'd know. Seungcheol keeps a calendar, and you've seen it enough times to have most of the dates memorized.

So it's not that. Maybe he's just stressed? The thought settles uneasily in your chest. He has been more on edge lately, more irritable with the others, though you'd chalked it up to work or pack dynamics or any of the hundred other things that can make an alpha tense. Maybe it's manifesting in his scent, some kind of stress response you're not familiar with yet.

You let it go, resuming the gentle motion of your fingers through his hair. Whatever it is, he clearly needs this and you're not about to pull away because of some vague concern you can't even properly articulate. If it's serious, someone else will notice. Seungcheol will notice.

Soonyoung makes another one of those soft sounds and you feel your heart do something complicated in your chest. You smile, thinking about how much you like him. The realization isn't new - you like all of them. But it hits you fresh at this moment, with him soft and sleepy against you.

"You're really good at that," he murmurs, his voice drowsy and content. His eyes are closed, his face relaxed. "Like, unfairly good."

"Just scratching your head," you say, but you're smiling, your fingers finding that spot behind his ear that makes him practically purr.

"Mm, no. It's more than that." He shifts slightly, tilting his head to look up at you, and the expression on his face makes your breath catch. There's something raw in his eyes, something open and honest that he usually keeps hidden behind jokes and easy grins. "You make everything feel easier."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He reaches up, his hand finding yours where it's resting against his temple, and he threads your fingers together. His palm is warm, slightly rough, and the gesture feels impossibly intimate. "I really like being close to you. Is that okay? To say that?"

"Of course it is. I like being close to you too."

His smile is small but genuine, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Good. Because I don't think I could stop even if you told me to."

You laugh quietly, resuming the gentle motion through his hair with your free hand while he keeps the other one captive, his thumb tracing absent patterns against your knuckles. His touch is comforting and you can feel the way his body has gone completely relaxed against you as the house settles around you, the sound of pack life continuing in other rooms.

You don't know how long you stay like that. Long enough for the light to shift again, the golden glow deepening toward amber. Long enough for your legs to start going numb under his weight, though you don't mention it. Long enough for you to memorize the exact shade of his hair in this light, the pattern of freckles across his nose, the way his eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks when he closes his eyes.

"Thank you," he says eventually, so quiet you almost miss it.

"For what?"

"For not asking questions. For just letting me be here."

You want to tell him he never has to thank you for that, but the words feel too big, too revealing, so instead you just squeeze his hand and keep running your fingers through his hair, and hope he understands anyway.

He seems to. His eyes drift closed again, his breathing evening out. And despite that lingering concern about his scent, despite the confusion about what happened with Seokmin, despite everything, you let yourself have this, relaxing against the couch as Soonyoung dozes in your lap.

-

The second time you notice something off with Soonyoung is worse.

It's Saturday morning and the kitchen is alive with the weekend chaos you've come to expect now that you eat breakfast at more reasonable hours. Mingyu is at the stove making what smells like pancakes while Vernon sits at the island with his laptop and a cup of coffee that you think has gone cold. Joshua hums as he sets the table in the dining room while morning light streams through the windows, coffee and the scent of bodies filling the room.

You're standing at the counter making tea, watching the kettle when you hear the commotion start somewhere just outside the kitchen.

"I'm just saying," Junhui says, his voice measured and calm in a way that suggests he is trying very hard to be patient. "If you'd communicated better, it would-"

"I don't need you to tell me how to communicate, Jun." Soonyoung's voice cuts through the morning peace like a knife, sharp enough that you see Mingyu's shoulders tense at the stove, see Vernon's fingers still on his keyboard.

Your hands tighten on the edge of the counter, your whole body going alert. Not again. Please not again. You glance at Mingyu who winces and shrugs his shoulders before turning back to stare intensely at his pancakes, preferring to let the alphas argue it out.

"I'm not telling you how to do anything." Junhui's voice is still calm but you can hear the edge creeping in, can hear the alpha authority starting to bleed through. "I'm just saying that if you'd communicated better, we wouldn't have had the conflict with-"

"Right, so it's my fault."

"That isn't what I said-"

"It's what you meant!"

You turn your attention back to the kettle, listening with half an ear as the argument continues. It's not the first time you've heard pack members disagree, and it probably won't be the last. The whistle is building now, getting louder, and you're reaching for your mug when you hear a crash loud enough that you jerk your hand.

The kettle wobbles but you catch it, steadying it with both hands as you let out a breath. Your heart kicks up for a moment before settling back down. Just an argument. Just pack dynamics working themselves out.

Mingyu has turned from the stove, spatula still in hand, his expression somewhere between concerned and resigned. Vernon has closed his laptop, watching the doorway.

"Soonyoung." Junhui's voice is harder now, carrying that alpha command that says stand down. "You need to calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down."

There's a beat of tense silence, and then footsteps, quick and purposeful before Soonyoung appears in the kitchen doorway. He looks wound tight, his chest heavy slightly, his eyes bright and a flush high on his cheeks that tells you he's stressed. His hair is a mess like he's been running his hands through it, and his t-shirt is rumpled, twisted slightly to one side. For a second he just stands there, breathing hard, his gaze sweeping the kitchen like he's looking for something.

Then his eyes land on you, and everything changes.

The tension bleeds out of his shoulders and his expression softens immediately, the wild edge in his eyes gentling into something warm. He crosses the kitchen in a few long strides, and before you can say anything, he’s pressing into your side like he needs the physical contact to breathe.

"Hi," he says quietly, his voice rough but softer than it was seconds ago. One of his arms wraps around your waist, and he leans into you, his forehead coming to rest against your temple. "You making tea?"

"Yeah." You can feel the heat of him along your entire side, can smell that sharp acidic edge underneath his usual teakwood warmth. It's more pronounced than it was yesterday. "Want some?"

"No. Just want to be here."

"Alright."

You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, scraping the blunt edge of your nails against his scalp. He hums, chest vibrating against you as his eyes flutter, scent blooming warm and rich, the acidic note vanishing. The kettle is whistling properly now, so you pour the water one-handed, Soonyoung still plastered to your side like he has no intention of moving. He doesn't say anything, just stands there with his arm around you, his breathing evening out as you finish making your tea.

Behind you, you can hear Mingyu returning to the pancakes, the quiet sizzle of batter hitting the pan. Vernon has reopened his laptop but you can feel his attention still on the two of you. Joshua appears in the doorway, takes one look at Soonyoung wrapped around you, and just nods to himself before heading back to finish setting the table.

"Breakfast is almost ready," Mingyu says after a moment, his voice carefully neutral. "If you guys want to sit down."

Soonyoung makes a noncommittal sound against your hair but doesn't move. You smile, wrapping both hands around your mug now that it's ready, and lean back into him slightly.

"Come on," you murmur. "Let's go sit."

He follows you without question, his hand sliding from your waist to tangle with your free hand, keeping you connected as you move into the dining room. The table is set thanks to Joshua, who looks between you and Soonyoung before winking.

You choose a seat near the middle of the table and Soonyoung immediately claims the chair right next to you, close enough that his thigh presses against yours when he sits. His hand finds your knee under the table, his thumb rubbing small circles against the fabric of your leggings, and you can feel the way he's still wound tight despite the softness in his expression.

Junhui appears in the doorway a moment later, and you watch as his eyes land on Soonyoung pressed up against your side. Something complicated crosses his face - frustration, maybe, but also understanding, and what looks like relief. He lets out a long breath, his shoulders dropping slightly, and when he meets your eyes there's gratitude there.

Thanks, he mouths silently and you nod.

He takes a seat across the table, his posture still tense but no longer aggressive. The argument isn't resolved, the set of his jaw and the tension in his hands making that much obvious, but it's set aside for now for when Soonyoung isn't whatever this is right now.

Soon, the table fills out with the rest of the pack and loud conversation backtracked by the sound of silverware on plates. Soonyoung serves you first, putting pancakes on your plate before his own, his hand never leaving your knee. He eats one-handed, the other staying firmly on you like he needs the anchor despite Seungkwan poking fun at him.

Soonyoung gradually relaxes against your side. His scent is still off, but his breathing has evened out, and the tension in his shoulders has eased. He's not talking much, just listening to the conversation around him, but every so often he glances at you like he's checking that you're still there.

Across the table, Junhui catches your eye again and gives you a small nod. The message is clear: Whatever you're doing, keep doing it.

So you do. You finish your tea and eat your pancakes and let Soonyoung stay pressed against your side for as long as he needs, and you try not to think too hard about what it is that's bothering him, ready to wait him out and let him come to you.

-

By Sunday, Soonyoung's tension has been noticed by everyone.

It's the kind of afternoon where the house has that lazy, syrupy feeling of the weekend as people scatter across the estate with their routines. You can hear Seungkwan's laugh coming through an open window, backtracked by someone playing music.

Sun bakes down on the top of your head as you stretch, sweaty skin sticky against the cloth of the cabana seating. Mingyu is tucked next to you, the smell of his clean, floral musk and sunscreen soothing.

The afternoon sun turns the pool surface into liquid gold, the light dancing and refracting in patterns that shift with every ripple. The air smells like chlorine and sunscreen and the jasmine that grows wild along the fence line, music playing from the speaker next to Mingyu softly while the two of you lounge

He's stretched out next to you in swim shorts that are slung low on his hips, his long legs crossed at the ankle, a book open in his lap that he's been so called reading for the past twenty minutes despite the fact he hasn't turned a page in at least ten. His chest is bare, shoulders already warming to a golden tan, and there's a faint sheen of sunscreen on his skin that catches the light.

You are definitely not reading your book. Instead, you're acutely aware of the way Mingyu's chest rises and falls with each one of his breaths, every defined line of his abs, and the way his muscles in his shoulders flex when he shifts his position. Your eyes drift from his collarbones to his sternum to the dip of his waist where his swim shorts sit low on his hips, and you have to physically force your gaze back to your book.

When you glance sideways, you catch the faintest smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. He knows. Of course he knows. Mingyu always knows when you're looking.

Footsteps draw your attention on the pool deck. Soonyoung is approaching, jaw tight and shoulders tense. You frown and his scent hits you a moment later as the wind shifts, sharp and acrid. You shift and Mingyu notices, glancing at you from behind his sunglasses before he realizes Soonyoung is there.

"Mingyu," Soonyoung says, voice clipped. He stops at the edge of the cabana, his eyes locked on Mingyu with something that makes the beta tense. "You left the fridge door open this morning. Again."

Mingyu blinks. "What?"

"Yeah."

"Soonyoung, I made breakfast at seven. It's been hours." Mingyu shields his eyes, looking up at Soonyoung, his tone more bewildered than defensive. "What even is-"

"And yesterday," Soonyoung continues, "You left stuff all over the kitchen counter. It's rude and messy."

You watch as Mingyu's expression shifts from confusion to something closer to exasperation. "I cleaned that up. Wonwoo saw me clean it up."

"Not very well, apparently." Soonyoung's voice is sharp. "And you were making noise in the kitchen at like six in the morning. Some of us were trying to sleep."

"You were literally in the gym at six." Mingyu closes his book deliberately and sets it on the small table next to the cabana. When he looks up at Soonyoung, his expression is guarded, not angry. "What's your actual problem Soonyoung? Spit it out."

"I don't have a problem. I just think it would be nice if people actually thought about the shared spaces instead of just doing whatever they want."

"Nobody's doing whatever they want."

Mingyu stands now so he's facing Soonyoung directly. He's a beta, but he's not small. He towers over Soonyoung, imposing in a way that makes your instincts flare, feeling the shift of tension between the two.

"You're picking a fight," Mingyu says, softer than before.

"I'm not picking a fight."

"Soonyoung, you're-" Mingyu cuts himself off and sighs. You can see him trying to control his temper, trying to figure out what Soonyoung is actually mad about. "You know what, whatever. You're right."

He turns to leave, his movements sharp and frustrated, stepping away from the cabana toward the pool deck. The afternoon sun hits him full-force, turning his skin golden, and for a moment you think maybe that's it. But then Soonyoung's hand darts out, wrapping around Mingyu's arm just above the elbow, fingers digging in hard enough to dimple Mingyu's skin.

"Don't walk away from me," Soonyoung growls, teeth flashing.

"Okay, enough."

Your voice cuts through the tension, sharp and commanding in a way that surprises even you. You're on your feet before you've consciously decided to move, a frustrated growling rippling through you at their bickering and Soonyoung's obvious struggle with something.

The effect is immediate and absolute. Soonyoung's hand drops from Mingyu's arm like he's been burned, his eyes going wide as they snap to you. Mingyu takes a step back, his posture immediately shifting from defensive to something closer to chastened. They're both staring at you now, and you can see the moment they register your expression.

"I don't know what's going on with you," you say, your gaze locked on Soonyoung, "but I am tired of watching you pick fights with everyone in this house. And Mingyu, you know it sets him off when you walk away like that."

"I wasn't-" Mingyu starts, but you hold up a hand and he stops immediately, his mouth closing.

"I don't want to hear it. Not from either of you. Soonyoung, put the teeth away."

The afternoon sun is hot on your shoulders, the chlorine smell sharp in your nose as a beat of silence passes. Soonyoung looks like he's been slapped, his expression crumbling from aggressive to something that looks almost like shame. His shoulders drop, his hands unclenching, and you can see the way his whole body seems to deflate.

"I'm sorry," he says, voice smaller than you've ever heard it.

"I know, Soonyoung." Your voice softens a fraction. "But you need to figure out what's going on with you, because this isn't okay. Mingyu didn't deserve that."

Soonyoung glances at Mingyu. "I'm sorry."

Mingyu is rubbing his arm where Soonyoung grabbed him, and you can see the red marks already forming, can see the shape of fingers pressed into his skin. His expression is a mix of anger and hurt, and you can tell he's struggling to not let his temper flare again. He takes a deep breath and nods, the frustration melting out of him in the way that betas are always good at.

"You need to talk to Seungcheol," Mingyu says, his voice much calmer now. "Today."

"I know."

Mingyu doesn't seem convinced. "I'm serious."

"I know. I'm going to."

For a second, Mingyu hesitates. Then he nods and glances at you, tilting his head toward Soonyoung subtly. You nod and Mingyu backs up a few paces, keeping his eyes on you until he's sure that you'll be fine with Soonyoung before he turns, sulky and irritated but knowing that Soonyoung needs space and recently, you're the only one who can reason with him.

Soonyoung looks wrecked, his expression apologetic. He's trembling a little, hands flexing at his sides like he wants to reach for you but can't or won't, his scent a mess. His pupils are blown wide, somewhere between fighting whatever instinct is making him so cagey and panic that he's upset you - he hates upsetting anyone, but most of all he hates when you're mad.

"Can I…?" He drifts off and gestures vaguely in your direction.

He's asking permission, deferring to you completely, and you can see in his eyes that he'll accept whatever answer you give. That he knows he just got put in his place and he's not going to push.

You let out a breath, some of the tension leaving your shoulders. "Yeah. Come here.

He crosses the distance between you in two quick strides, but when he reaches you, he's careful, his arms coming around you slowly enough to give you time to pull away. You don't and instead let him pull you close so he can bury his face in your neck, breathing you in and scenting you enough to make you both dizzy and clinging to one another. Your lashes flutter, a rush going through you as he brushes his nose against the softness of your neck, blood turning molten.

"I'm sorry," he whispers against your skin, and his voice is broken. "I'm sorry. You're right. I'm sorry."

Your hands come up automatically, one sliding into his hair, the other pressing flat against his back. You can feel the knobs of his spine through his shirt, can feel the way his muscles are locked tight with tension.

"I know you are," you murmur. "But you need to figure out what's wrong. This isn't like you."

You can feel the way he's trying to calm himself down, trying to match his breathing to yours, trying to use your presence to anchor himself. You feel a pang in your chest, hugging him a little tighter. Soonyoung is always hard on himself - harder than he needs to be - and he hates fighting with anyone, especially Mingyu. Especially in front of you.

You guide him back to the loungers, settling onto one and pulling him down beside you. He goes willingly, curling into your side like he's trying to make himself smaller, his head resting on your shoulder. The afternoon sun has shifted, the shade of the cabana stretching longer across the pool deck, and the water has gone still and mirror-smooth in the absence of any breeze.

"You should talk to Cheol," you murmur.

Soonyoung nods against you. "Okay."

You run your fingers through his hair, feeling the way he relaxes incrementally with each pass, the tension in his shoulders easing degree by degree. The strands are soft, slightly damp from the heat and humidity, and you work your fingers through them slowly, deliberately, the way you know he likes. His scent is still sharp underneath, still carrying that acidic edge that speaks to whatever is happening inside his body, but it levels out now, teakwood baked under sun.

"Better?" you ask softly.

He makes a small sound of agreement, his arm tightening around your waist. "Yeah."

-

Someone knocking on your door pulls you from sleep. You squint at the clock on the nightstand, the blurry numbers telling you it's well past three am. Your bed is warm, blankets tangled around you and the faint smell of Jeonghan lingering from the hoodie of his you have shoved under your pillow. You sit up, rubbing your eyes as you get your bearings.

"Come in," you croak.

Before the door even opens, you know who it is. You can smell Soonyoung before the door fully opens, but when it does, it hits you like a physical force. It's his normal warm, woody smell but there's something new now, something hot and thick and almost overwhelming. It makes your mouth water, omega instincts kicking in, warmth pooling low in your belly.

Soonyoung steps into your room and closes the door behind him with a soft click, and in the dim light filtering through your curtains from the streetlamp outside, you can see that something is very, very wrong. Or right, by the smell of him.

He's shirtless, wearing only a pair of loose sleep pants that hang low on his hips, skin gleaming with a thin sheen of sweat despite how cold the house is at night. You can see the way his chest rises and falls too fast, too shallow. His hair is a mess like he's been pulling at it again, and when he looks at you, his eyes are dark and dilated, pupils blown so wide there's barely any iris left.

"I'm sorry," he says, and his voice is rough, wrecked. "I know it's late."

You push the blankets aside and shift to the edge of your bed, feet finding the cool hardwood floor to stand. "What's wrong?"

His entire body reacts to the sound of your voice. He sways slightly toward you, nostril flaring as he scents you, a shiver rippling through him. You take a step toward him and he makes a pitiful sound, looking entirely at war with himself.

"I feel like I'm burning up," he mumbles. "Feel like I'm going to crawl out of my skin if I don't see you."

"Come here."

It's a command - softly given, but a command none the less. He listens like it's instinctual, crossing the room to you in three strides. You feel the heat radiating off of him when he stops in front of you and you reach up without thinking, pressing your palm to his chest. He's fever-hot under your touch, his heart hammering in his chest.

"You're burning up," you say softly, frowning.

"I know." His hand comes up to cover yours, pressing your palm harder against his chest like he needs the contact, needs the pressure. His eyes close and he takes a shuddering breath. "You smell so good. You always smell good but right now it's maddening."

Something clicks into place in your mind. The aggression. The clinginess. The way his scent has been getting sharper and hotter for days. The fever. The way he's looking at you right now like you're the only thing in the world that matters.

"Soonyoung," you say slowly, carefully. "Are you in rut?"

His eyes snap open, meeting yours, and for a long moment he just stares at you. You can see him processing the question, see the moment the realization hits him. His expression shifts from confusion to understanding to something that looks almost like relief.

"Oh. Um. It does feel like that."

"But it's early, isn't it?" You keep your hand on his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat under your palm. "You're not supposed to go into a rut for another few weeks."

"Right." He seems to think about something and he makes a small sound, leaning into your touch. "I've never had an omega in the house though."

"Oh."

"I think having you here made my body kind of freak out and decide it was time even if it wasn't."

You can feel your own body responding to his proximity, to the thick, heady scent of him in rut. Your omega instincts are screaming at you to help, to soothe, to give him what he needs. But more than that, you want to. You want to pull him into your bed, want to feel his fever-hot skin against yours, want to take care of him the way every cell in your body is telling you to.

"Let me help you," you say, and your voice comes out softer than you intended, almost pleading.

His eyes go wide. "What?"

"Let me help you through it." You slide your hand up from his chest to cup his jaw, feeling the way he leans into your touch like he can't help himself. "You don't have to do this alone. You don't have to suffer through it."

"I can't ask you to do that. You haven't been here that long and haven't been through one…"

"It's pretty instinctual. I'll be okay."

He's trembling now, and you can't tell if it's from the fever or from nerves or from the effort of holding himself back. "What if I hurt you? What if I can't control myself?"

"Soonyoung, you won't hurt me."

"You don't know that." But even as he says it, he's leaning closer, his forehead dropping to rest against yours. His breath is hot against your lips, coming in short, uneven pants. "You don't know what it's like. What I'm feeling right now."

"Then take it," you whisper. "Take what you need."

He makes a sound low in his throat, something between a whimper and a growl, and his hands come up to grip your waist. His fingers dig in, not quite hard enough to hurt but firm enough that you can feel the desperation in his touch.

"But what if-"

You cut him off by kissing him.

It's soft at first, just a gentle press of your lips against his to turn off his spinning thoughts, but the moment you make contact, something in him breaks. He makes a desperate sound against your mouth and kisses you back like he's drowning and you're air. His lips are fever-hot and slightly chapped, and he tastes like mint toothpaste and something underneath that's purely him, purely alpha, purely Soonyoung.

His hands tighten on your waist and he pulls you closer, eliminating the last few inches of space between you. Your chest presses against his and you can feel the heat of him even through your thin sleep shirt, can feel the way his heart is racing, can feel the slight tremor in his muscles as he holds himself back from taking more than you're offering.

But you want him to take more. You want him to let go.

You part your lips and he groans, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that makes heat pool low in your belly. The kiss deepens, turns hungry, and you can feel the moment his control starts to slip. His hands slide from your waist to your hips to grip your ass, pulling you flush against him. You can feel him harden against your stomach, the way he's already straining against the low slung sweat pants.

Knowing he wants you this much makes your head spin. You omega preens and you shiver, sucking his tongue into your mouth greedily, driven by a more powerful want than you have ever felt in your life. He responds in kind, walking you backward toward the bed, feet tangling until you're falling backward and he's caging you in.

For a moment, he just hovers over you, his arms bracketing your head, his chest heaving as he stares down at you with those dark, dilated eyes. You reach up and trace his jawline and he leans into the touch, eyes fluttering. You've always thought he had the prettiest eyes, dark and hungry and so full of life. Right now they're burning with something hotter than you've ever seen and it makes you sing.

"You're so beautiful," he says, and his voice is wrecked. "I've wanted this for so long. Wanted you for so long."

"Then have me," you whisper. "Take me."

"Okay," he whispers. "Okay."

He kisses you again, slower this time, his lips moving against you with gentle purpose like he's memorizing the shape of your mouth. His hands start to wander, sliding up your sides, pushing your sleep shirt up inch by inch until his palms are pressed against your bare skin.

The contact makes you both gasp. His hands are so hot they're almost burning, and everywhere he touches feels like it's on fire. He explores slowly, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your ribs, the soft swell of your breasts.

"Can I?" He asks, twisting a fistfull of your shirt in his hand. You nod and he grins.

He sits back on his heels and helps you pull the shirt over your head, and the moment it's gone, his eyes go even darker. He stares at you like he's never seen anything more beautiful, his gaze tracking over every inch of exposed skin.

"Fuck," he breathes. "You're perfect. You're so fucking perfect."

He leans down and presses a kiss to your collarbone, then another to the swell of your breast, then another to your stomach. His lips are hot and soft, and every place he kisses feels like it's been branded. He works his way down slowly, kissing and licking and occasionally scraping his teeth gently against your skin in a way that makes you arch up into him, his name broken and shaky on your lips.

Soonyoung's sounds are equally as needy, groaning low in his throat in a way that makes your thighs close around his waist, the ache between your legs growing despite the way his hips pin yours to the bed. Friction. You need friction but any thoughts of asking for it vanish from your head when he leans down and takes a nipple into his mouth, the heat and wet slide of his tongue making you cry out.

Your hands fly to his hair, threading through the messy strands, holding him against you as he sucks and licks and occasionally scrapes his teeth gently across the sensitive bud. The sensation is overwhelming, almost too much, and you can feel yourself getting wetter with every pass of his tongue.

"So responsive," he murmurs, almost to himself. "So perfect for me."

He gives the same attention to your other breast, his hand coming up to play with the one his mouth just left, and the dual sensation makes your head spin. You're panting now, your hips shifting restlessly against the mattress, seeking friction that you need so badly.

"Soonyoung," you gasp. "Please."

"Please what?" He lifts his head to look at you, and his lips are wet and swollen, his eyes dark with hunger. "Tell me what you need."

"Touch me. Please touch me."

His hand slides down your stomach, his fingers light and maddening. When he reaches the waistband of your shorts, he pauses again, waiting for permission. You lift your hips in answer, and he hooks his fingers into both your shorts and underwear, pulling them down your legs in one smooth motion.

Cool air hits your overheated pussy and you whine. Soonyoung growls in response, looking down where your thighs threaten to shut. He keeps you pressed open, his hands firm on your thighs as he makes an appreciative sound low in his chest, almost a purr.

"You're so wet," he says, his voice rough. "Is this all for me?"

"Yes," you breathe. "All for you."

He stays kneeled there on the bed, his hand tracing down your thigh until he’s sliding his fingers through your sticky, heated folds. He explores slowly, the drag of his fingers making you tremble, thighs twitching until he presses gently against your clit and you let out a high-pitched sound, the contact sending a bloom of warmth spreading through you.

"There?" He asks and you can hear the smile in his voice, smug.

"Yes. Please."

Soonyoung obeys, circling your clit slowly, increasing the pressure as you buck under him. You feel yourself dripping, a wet mess as he plays with you, making little appreciative sounds as his slick fingers work you higher until you're tangling your hands in the bed and writhing under him.

When he slides one finger inside you, you cry out, your hands fisting in the blankets beneath you. It feels good but you want more, immediately asking him for more, mumbling and messy and lightheaded and overwhelmed with the thick scent of him and the heat of his finger pressing against your front wall.

"Yeah?" He asks. "You can take another?"

"Yes. Please. More."

He adds a second finger and the stretch is delicious, perfect. He curls them inside you, searching, and when he finds that spot that makes you see stars, you nearly sob with relief.

"There," you gasp. "Right there. Oh god, Soonyoung, right there."

He works you with single-minded focus, his fingers curling and stroking while his thumb circles your clit, and you can feel yourself getting close, the pleasure building higher and higher until you're teetering right on the edge.

"That's it," he encourages, his voice low and rough. "Come for me. Let me see you come."

You turn your head to the side, pressing it into the mattress as your hips roll toward his hand, letting him fuck his fingers into you until you're coming around them, clamping down hard on his fingers. He moans with you, pumping his fingers through it as you squeeze and squeeze and squeeze, the pleasure so hot you stop breathing for a second.

"Too much," you gasp, and he immediately gentles, his fingers slipping out of you carefully.

He brings his hand to his mouth and sucks his fingers clean, his eyes closing as he hums in delight. You stare at him, panting and sweaty, sheets sticky against your skin as he opens his eyes, the moon reflecting off them.

"Taste so fucking good," he growls. "Bet you taste better from the source, but if I don't fuck you right now I might lose my mind."

"Please," you beg. "Want it so bad."

He makes a desperate sound and reaches for his sleep pants, shoving them down his hips. His cock springs free, hard and flushed and leaking, and the sight of it makes your mouth water. He's thick and throbbing, and you watch like you're hypnotized as he grips himself, stroking slowly a few times as he settles on the bed between your legs.

Soonyoung leans forward, one hand braced beside your head, the other guiding himself to your wet cunt where he pauses, swiping the head of his cock through your slick folds. You whine and he grins, clearly loving the effect he has on you.

"You sure?" He asks after a minute, the head of his cock notching on your entrance but not pushing in. "We can stop."

"I want you," you assure him, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "Please, alpha."

Your words have an immediate effect. He shivers, a ripple going through him as he growls low in his throat and presses in. You're wet enough that he slides in smoothly, but you can still feel every inch of him, can feel the way your body has to adjust to accommodate his girth. The drag of him against your walls enough to make you gasp.

"Fuck," he breaths, pressing in until he bottoms out. "You feel incredible. So tight. So perfect." He rolls his hips experimentally, grinding deep, and the pressure against that spot inside you makes you cry out. "Yeah, there it is. I can feel you clenching around me already."

You can feel the fever-heat of his skin, the way his muscles are taut with restraint. His scent wraps around you, that deep teakwood gone sharp and heady with rut, overwhelming your senses until all you can smell is him. It makes your head spin, makes you want to pull him closer, to drown in it.

"Soonyoung," you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Move. Please move."

"Impatient," he says with a grin, but there's heat in his eyes.

He pulls out so slowly that you can feel every ridge and vein of his cock, all the way until just the head of him is inside of you before he snaps his hips forward, driving deep in one smooth thrust, and the sudden fullness makes you cry out. He doesn't give you time to adjust before he's pulling out and driving in again, setting a rhythm that's deep and steady and absolutely devastating. Each thrust hits that perfect spot inside you, sending sparks of pleasure racing up your spine.

"Oh fuck," you groan, going tight around him. "Fuck fuck fuck."

The sounds of the wet slide of him fucking into you fills the room backtracked by his breathing, ragged and uneven as he groans everytime you clench around him. You dig your nails in, scraping down his back to his waist where you urge him faster, your fingers sliding against his sweaty skin.

"That's fucking it," he pants. "Taking my cock so well, huh? Were you made to take it?"

You nod, his words making heat flood through you, making you clench around him involuntarily. He feels it and grins, that cocky, confident smile that makes your heart race.

"You like that?" he asks, his pace never faltering. "Like hearing how perfect you are? How good you feel wrapped around me?"

"Yes," you gasp as he thrusts hard, jostling you up the bed. "Fuck. Yes, Soonyoung."

He shifts the angle slightly, pressing deeper, and suddenly every thrust is dragging against your g-spot with devastating precision. The pleasure builds rapidly, a tight coil of heat low in your belly that winds tighter with each movement. He reaches between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and circling it with just the right speed.

"I can feel you getting close," he says, and there's satisfaction in his voice. "Can feel the way this perfect pussy is clenching. You gonna come for me?"

"Yes!"

You can feel yourself climbing higher, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak, your cunt clenching hard, breath hitching as you start to shake. He drives in harder, finger speeding up until you're standing on the edge of your orgasm, breath held, waiting to dive over.

"Come on," he murmurs, leaning down to nip your heard. "Come for me, baby."

You do, the orgasm hitting you hard. It steals your breath and your entire body locks up as you cry out his name, your pussy clamping down on him. His rhythm stutters immediately as he groans, but he doesn't stop, working you through it until you're shaking and feeling like you're going to come apart again, unsure if your orgasm has stopped or if it's another one starting.

"I can't-"

"You can," he urges, breath hot against your ear. "You're going to give me another one, baby."

He pulls out suddenly, and the loss makes you whimper. But before you can protest, he's flipping you over onto your stomach, his hands gripping your hips and pulling them up.

"On your knees," he commands, and the authority in his voice makes you obey without thinking.

When he slides in from behind, the new angle makes him feel deeper. You can feel him everywhere, the stretch, the fullness, the way he's pressed against every single spot inside of you. His hands grip your hips hard enough to dimple the skin, holding you exactly where he wants you as he fucks you in earnest, hips snapping and bed hitting the wall.

"Fuck, look at you," he groans. "Taking me so deep. You're perfect. So fucking perfect."

One of his hands slides up your spine, pressing between your shoulder blades, and you let yourself collapse forward onto your forearms. The change in angle makes him hit even deeper, makes you cry out with the intensity of it.

"Too much?" he asks, but there's a teasing edge to his voice. He knows it's not too much. He knows you can take it.

"No," you gasp. "More. Please, more."

"Greedy," he says with a laugh, but he gives you what you want.

His pace increases, his thrusts getting harder, faster, and you can feel another orgasm building already. It's different this time, deeper and more intense, starting low in your stomach and spreading outward like fire.

His hand slides around to find your clit again, and the added stimulation makes you sob with pleasure. You're so sensitive, so overwhelmed, but you don't want him to stop. You never want him to stop.

"Come on," he urges, his voice strained now. "Give me another one. Want to feel you come apart on my cock again."

The orgasm builds and builds, the pressure almost unbearable, and when it finally breaks you scream into the pillow. Your whole body shakes with it, your inner walls clenching around him so hard you can feel him groan, can feel the way his rhythm falters.

"Fuck," he gasps. "Fuck, you feel so good."

His hips stutter, his grip on your hips tightening almost painfully, and then he's coming with a groan that sounds like it's torn from his chest. You can feel the heat of him spilling inside you, can feel the pulse of his cock, and the sensation triggers another small aftershock that makes you whimper.

He collapses over you, his chest pressed against your back, his weight pressing you into the mattress. You can feel his heart racing against your spine, can feel the way he's trembling slightly, can feel his breath hot and uneven against your shoulder.

For a second, the two of you lay there like that, hearts pounding in sync, the messy slide of your bodies warm and comforting, his scent blooming around you as the mess between your thighs runs down your legs and onto the mattress. You don't care, going near catatonic as Soonyoung presses closer to your scent gland, his tongue darting out to taste you. It makes you moan and push back into him, wanting more and he laughs.

He shifts slightly, starting to pull out, but you make a sound of protest. "Not yet. Stay."

"I'm crushing you," he points out, but he doesn't move.

"Don't care," you say. "Want to feel you."

He makes a soft sound and settles more comfortably against you, his arms wrapping around your waist. He's still inside you, softening but not pulling out, and there's something intimate about it that makes your chest feel tight.

You lie there in the darkness, your bodies cooling, your breathing gradually evening out. You can feel the way his scent is already starting to shift, still hot and thick with rut, but not quite as sharp, not quite as overwhelming.

"How long do ruts usually last?" you ask quietly.

"Three days, usually. Sometimes four." He presses a kiss to your shoulder. "But I don't know if this one will be normal. Everything about it has been weird so far."

"We'll figure it out," you tell him.

He's quiet for a long moment, and when he speaks again, his voice is soft, vulnerable. "Thank you. For this. For helping me. For not being scared of me."

"I would never be afraid of you."

"Even after the past few days?"

"Especially after the past few days." You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, and even in the dim light, you can see the uncertainty in his eyes. "You were in pre-rut and you were still gentle with me. You were still asking permission. You were still you. That tells me everything I need to know."

He closes his eyes and takes a shuddering breath, and when he opens them again, they're suspiciously bright. "I don't deserve you."

"Shut up," you say, but there's no heat in it. "You deserve everything good. And I'm going to make sure you get it."

He kisses your shoulder, soft and sweet and perfect. When he pulls back, you can hear the smile in his voice.

"Round two?" he asks, and you can already feel him starting to harden again inside you.

You laugh, the sound surprised and delighted. "Already?"

"Rut," he says, rolling his hips experimentally and making you gasp. "Told you it was going to be intense. Think you can keep up?"

"Is that a challenge?"

"Maybe. Think you can handle it?"

"I can handle anything you give me," you tell him, and you mean it.

"Good," he says, his voice dropping to that low, commanding tone that makes heat pool in your belly. "Because I'm not done with you yet. Not even close."

"Prove it."

"Oh, I will," he promises. "We've got all night. And all day tomorrow. And the day after that."

"Good," you tell him, rolling your hips and feeling the way he's already fully hard again inside you. "Because I'm not letting you go."

- The knock comes around late morning, soft but insistent.

You're half-awake when you hear it, drifting in that comfortable space between sleep and consciousness where everything feels warm and syrupy. Soonyoung is sprawled across your chest, his head tucked under your chin, one arm thrown over your waist. His breathing is deep and even, his body finally relaxed after taking you four more times throughout the night on and off. There's an ache between your legs but it feels good, feels right. Like you're right where you should be, pressed against a member of your pack, scents twisted together.

The knock comes again, a little louder this time.

"Come in," you call quietly, not wanting to startle Soonyoung awake too abruptly.

The door opens and Jeonghan steps inside, cradling bottles of water and bowls of rice and chicken. You realize it's what you both need to sustain yourself through Soonyoung's rut and you're immediately grateful, shooting Jeonghan a tired smile. He smirks in response, trailing toward where you and Soonyoung are tangled on the bed.

Soonyoung senses Jeonghan's presence, eyes snapping open. He's up on his elbows in an instant, his body going rigid, and a low growl rumbles from deep in his chest. His lips pull back from his teeth in a snarl that's pure territorial aggression, his pupils dilating as he positions himself between you and Jeonghan like a shield.

Jeonghan doesn't even flinch. Instead, he sets the food and water down on the dresser and turns to Soonyoung, face calm and placid before his face shifts, lips pulling back to bare his teeth at Soonyoung in kind. There's no anger in it, but rather a reminder to Soonyoung that Jeonghan is number two in this pack and Soonyoung's senior and he is not intimidated.

Soonyoung's growl falters. You can feel the moment he recognizes the dynamic, the moment his rut-addled brain processes the hierarchy and accepts it. His teeth retract, his lips closing over them, and he settles back down slightly, though his arm never leaves your waist.

"Keep the teeth away," Jeonghan snorts, walking toward the door. "Congrats on finally figuring it out. You cannot imagine the relief I felt seeing you crawl up here last night."

He turns and exits the room without another word, closing the door quietly behind him.

For a moment, there's silence. You can feel Soonyoung's heart still racing, but his anger is immediately replaced with a sheepish laugh and him awkwardly scratching the back of his head, looking at you.

"Sorry," he laughs. "I've never done that before."

"It's okay," you tell him, reaching back to run your fingers through his hair. "It was cute."

"Cute?" He scoffs. "I'm not cute. I'm tough. I have teeth."

"Uh huh." You lay back on the bed, looking up at him, grinning. "Use those big teeth on me then."

"Yeah?" he asks, his voice dropping to something low and hungry. "You want me to?"

"Yes."

That's all the invitation he needs. He moves fast, rolling you onto your back and pinning you to the mattress in one fluid motion. His hands find your wrists, pressing them gently but firmly into the pillows on either side of your head. His body settles over yours, his weight pressing you down into the bed, and you can feel him already hardening against your thigh.

His teeth find the sensitive skin of your neck, just below your ear, and he bites down gently, not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough that you feel it, hard enough that it sends a spike of heat straight through you. He works his way down your neck, marking you with his teeth, and every bite is followed by a soothing lick of his tongue.

"I'll show you teeth," he mutters, scraping them over the curve of your breast.