You look like heaven (and I feel like hell)

Express no emotions. Keep your head low and your gaze lower. It is the only way you’ll survive.

The suppressants between his fingers are cold, cold like fire on ice and yet they burn his skin mockingly as he hides them out of sight. His breaths are gun-smoke and he is loaded, aimed, the feeling beneath his tongue is wrong, the churning in his stomach is almost criminal. He needs to go and drug himself up, to rid his hormones of these overwhelming scents before he goes off like a bullet in a crossfire.

Before he knows it the pills are between his lips, one, two, three for good luck and then he applies his scent blocker, sprays on the artificial smell of pine and thyme. The needle by the sink is filled with a colourless fluid and he lifts it to the vein in his forearm before pushing it down, barely wincing as his arm spasms slightly and he removes it, snapping the needle off and carefully wrapping it up before exposing of it.

Only then does he allow himself to smile, eyes flicking to his pale skin and blue lips, ignoring the freezing cold proximity of his skin as though he is made of ice. He takes a deep breath of relief. All it takes is a bright face and soft smiles and no one will ever be suspicious.

They’ll never know.

+

“Changkyun. I need your help.”

He stands to his feet, swaying for a second before composing himself, twisting his face into a smile.

“What is it, hyung?” His voice is tight through gritted teeth and his fingers itch. He can’t help but to feel like the pills and the shot didn’t work but even the thought is ridiculous because he is in a dorm full of alphas and betas and it doesn’t take a genius to sniff out an omega in pre heat.

No no. He needs to stop. He’s an alpha, he’s an alpha. He isn’t anything less. He isn’t. He won’t be.

He can’t be.

“I need your help to carry some of these boxes to the trash. They’re pretty heavy after we just cleaned the dorm out.”

Changkyun huffs. “Kihyunnie hyung.” He adopts a cute tone in an attempt to evoke pity from the elder. “Why me?”

“I need a big strong alpha to carry all this.”

Any words of protest escape him and he lowers his head compliantly, arms straining as Kihyun places the boxes into his arms, biting his tongue as words of protest threaten to spill off of the tip of his tongue.

He is an alpha, he is an alpha. He is strong, he is fearless. His mates can not be more than him.

Even though it hurts he doesn’t hinder or break because if he shows weakness now then he is out and what would be the point of having suffered so much for so long just to have everything broken - so quickly, so effortlessly?

There is a reason why he was hesitant in agreeing to becoming a pack within the group, he had known even then that eventually they would see through his lies, he would be lying even now to say that the lies in his words are not at the very least translucent. Then again, after years of casting a fragmented distortion of what is real and what is not, he has developed a knack for twisting what is true and sounding believable as he does so.

But he knows that he can keep this on for only so long. He knows better than any that this cat and mouse game will only go on until the mouse is caught. He knows that he can’t act like his lack of ruts is down to unsettled hormones forever. He knows that they are a pack and it is only natural for them to want to scent one another and be scented. He knows that it will be impossible to hide anything once that time comes.

He knows. Hell, if he doesn’t.

He places the boxes next to the trash outside which is ready to be picked up and Kihyun smiles gratefully, arms going around the younger male.

“My Kyunnie.” He nuzzles into his neck near his scent glands and it takes Changkyun everything within him not to go rigid. “What would I do without you, hm?” He brings him closer and presses a sweet kiss to his lips, letting it linger for a moment before moving back and Changkyun can feel his cheeks burn.

The rest of the pack are usually extremely touchy with each other, insinuating skinship every moment they can and it is nothing unusual - except they usually keep a slight distance from the youngest, respecting his comfort zone and keeping touches to the minimum. It’s not often, but sometimes Minhyuk brushes his fingers over Changkyun’s hands or Hoseok wraps his arms around him for a second of pure indulgence and sometimes he even gets quick pecks on the lips when they can’t hold it anymore.

He doesn’t complain. If it were up to him he wouldn’t be quite so conserved as he is, but with as much to hide as he does, he can hardly be all over his group members as they are with each other. Sometimes he even feels a sense of longing but he is quick to bite it down. He doesn’t belong here. This place is not his home. If anyone were to find out about him he would never have a chance to love at all.

Sometimes he lays awake at night thinking about it. He is only thankful that the group were quick to accept him into Monsta X after No Mercy, welcoming him with open arms once they stopped being so dramatic for the show. Of course there had been some awkwardness and furtive glances but a few months in and they have grown used to one another’s company.

He still hears the whispers amongst the other trainees though, words from those who have trained for years on end, waiting patiently to debut and never getting the chance to. He doesn’t blame them for being bitter but the rumours he catches in the wind turn his blood to ice, every time he hears them he can hardly breathe.

They suspect that he had gotten into the company having done sexual favours to earn his way in. The only reason that the rumours died, the only way that he’d saved himself was the fact that he was an alpha. Had he been an omega, they would never let him go.

His breaths are uneven as he pushes the thoughts from his mind, every time he thinks of it he feels dirty, dirty, dirty, he feels stripped of his rights and he wants to be sick. He had been young and a child and they’d had no right to touch him.

Perhaps it is out of pity that the company gives him his suppressants for free. It is no secret that the Monsta X members themselves had also suspected him of partaking in sexual acts before it became apparent to them that he was an alpha. Oh well.

What they don’t know won’t kill them.

He makes his way to his room, pausing for a moment as he picks up an onslaught of pheromones coming from inside before opening the door without knocking.

Inside he sees Jooheon and Minhyuk, both of them looking exceptionally busy with one another and both of them wearing very little clothes. Changkyun rolls his eyes before closing the door behind him and climbing to his bunk, rummaging for his phone beneath his pillow and trying his hardest to block out the loud moans and strong scents of lust from beneath him.

“Changkyunnie.” He looks up from his phone, eyebrows scrunching together as he huffs in annoyance.

“What do you want Minhyuk hyung?” His voice is endearing and he sits up sighing.

“Do you... do you want to join us?” He is laboured when he speaks and Changkyun can tell that it is he is rutting. He has never thanked his suppressants more than in moments like this, especially since it dulls any kinds of arousal or eroticism. He laughs lightly.

“No thanks. You two just get on with it please.”

He suddenly feels like he needs to leave. If Minhyuk is in rut it will only mean that his senses are stronger and it won’t take him long to realise that Changkyun’a scent is hardly noticeable at all amongst the others. All it will take is for them to piece two and two together and Changkyun will be out, pack less and alone. Without suppressants or scent blockers and as a young omega he would become an easy prey.

Not that he hasn’t been subjected to the difficulty of being an omega before.

No no. He’s an alpha. He hasn’t been an omega for a long time. He doesn’t plan to be one ever again, even if it fucks him up.

He exits the room just as inconspicuously as he had arrived and he turns to see Hoseok on the couch, Hyungwon is undoubtedly sleeping in his room and he can hear Kihyun and Hyunwoo in the kitchen, their voices loud whispers filled with a sense of comfort. He pauses, a small frown between his brows and Hoseok inclines slightly, smiling upon seeing the younger.

“Come here Changkyunnie.” He says, opening his arms. “I feel like I’ve been deprived of your scent for so long I’ve almost forgotten what it smells like.”

What’s going on today? Why’re they all acting so clingy towards him?

“I don’t feel really well, hyung.” He says, and it’s true, an unceremonious feeling of foreboding has starting to nestle in his stomach and the older alpha pouts, folding his heavy biceps.
“I’m sure that this is some sort of abuse.” He states and Changkyun huffs before moving towards the older male and pecking a quick kiss on his cheek, face turning red with shyness. Hoseok smiles contently and then frowns, fingers wrapping around the younger boys wrist.

“Changkyunnie.” He says and then sniffs lightly, arms coming around Changkyun’s waist, pulling him closer, burying his face in the maknaes stomach and inhaling deeply despite his protests. “Are you using a scent blocker?”

Changkyun can not control how cold he becomes, how his body almost stiffens and when he speaks his voice is jarred and on edge.

“Why would you say that, hyung?”

Hoseok sniffs again before pulling the younger into his lap, nose brushing against his scent glands and Changkyun struggles in the tight hold.

“Your scent is really faint, Kyunnie.” He murmurs, eyes flicking up to meet with the maknaes, and only then does he realise the compromising position which they’re in, Changkyun’s legs straddling Hoseok’s waist and the elders arms enclosing the younger. He has never been this close with another member. It’s strange but he can’t quite hate it as much as he wants to.

“I...” He fumbles with a coherent response. “It’s just that...um .... Minhyuk hyung is in rut and I used a light scent blocker because I ... so that we don’t... because I don’t...”

But Hoseok seems to understand the main part of what he’s attempting to say and nods in sympathetically.

“Oh okay then.” He says, though somewhat reluctantly. “But you know that scent blockers can have some nasty side affects so don’t make a habit of using them. If you don’t feel comfortable doing anything sexual at all, ever, you just need to tell us. We’ll never force you.”

The honesty and the sweet intentions behind the words prick tears behind his eyelids, bring back bitter memories of a cruel past and he holds onto Hoseok’s arms with slightly too much pressure to be gentle.

“Thank you hyung.” He says in a quiet voice. Hoseok smiles in response before carefully touching his lips to the other boys’ tongue tracing the outline of his Cupid’s bow and fingers coming up to knot into soft hair. The kiss is longer than what Changkyun is used to, it is passionate and gentle, Hoseok’s fingers caressing his face and when they finally move back it is to catch their breaths and to compose themselves.

“You taste like sunlight.” Hoseok says finally. “And strawberry bubblegum.”

Changkyun frowns. “Is that bad?”

“It’s not.” Hoseok shrugs. “Although it is a little sweet for an alpha. But I like it.”

But I like it.

Changkyun hates people who say pretty things. They always end up being the most dangerous.

Don’t trust anyone. No matter what anyone tells you, everyone’s first instinct will always be to save themselves. You have to leave before you get left.

+

“Don’t forget my little Kyunnie, I have given you a name and a worth. Without me you would be nothing. You’ll only ever be useful when you’re being used...”

He wakes at night drenched in sweat with a heartbeat in his throat which reminds him he is alive, reminds him that even if he doesn’t want it, he’s been cursed with life and has to live.

Humans are like tattooing machines. Perhaps those fingerprints aren’t really burned into his skin but he can’t feel clean whenever he thinks of what happened to him. Perhaps his broken bones and aches in his body have healed, but he still flinches whenever someone raises their voice. He’s never known a feeling of closure, not even when he is in safe arms, not even when he’s in solitude.

“Kyunnie?”

He can’t tell them why he feels sick whenever they call his name, why he can’t help the nausea which makes him dizzy when their fingers brush over his skin or when he wakes in the morning with one of their bodies pressed against him. The scent of alpha around him is like a drug and even if he wants to he can not get away from it. He hates it, this implicit weakness in the deepest parts of his soul, he hates himself for it.

“Changkyun, love. Are you okay?”

His gaze flickers up to ivory skin and onyx eyes, a soft smell of spearmint and thyme soothes his erratic heartbeat mildly and the scent of beta engulfs him, caresses him. It is a thoughtful gesture, but through the blockers and suppressants which are like a shield around him, it is not enough. Even if he was stripped down, bare to his bones it wouldn’t be enough and it never is.

“I’m sorry, hyung. Were you saying something?”

It isn’t that they don’t try to give him love. The people that they were on No Mercy is a distant memory. The alphas try to give him closure and the betas try to give him warmth but he can not erase pain from his skin as though it never happened. He is a liar and a cheat and if they ever knew who he really was then they would know that it is impossible for a person like him to be loved, much less give it.

Hyungwon’s gaze softens and he sighs, brushing the younger’s hair from his face, a tender gesture.

“You know that you can tell me anything, right?”

The laughter which falls from his lips aches, but what is another lie amidst the rest?

“I know, hyung.”

Sometimes he looks up at the stars and wonders what he did so wrong in his past life that the universe couldn’t love him back.

+

It is night and he lays in a wine red darkness with his body rigid. There is an arm laying over his torso softly, gently resting but it is like a cage encircling him and his breaths are heavy. He can hardly breathe.

They don’t understand, when they take him in their arms, their kisses soft and chaste, they don’t understand that he just doesn’t want to be here, he doesn’t want to be anything anywhere at all. They don’t understand that this kind of pain can not be loved away. It sticks beneath his skin, to the hollows of his body, it suffocates him, it eats him up from the inside out.

Changkyun turns his head slightly and sees Jooheon’s soft features, the roundness of his cheeks and the soft slant of his eyes. Even in the half light he looks beautiful and the tenderness in his sleeping face makes him look vulnerable rather than predatory, his beta scent of warm coffee and something mildly sweet wraps around him emitting calming waves and yet Changkyun can not help the fear inside of him like he always experiences if any one of them sleep beside him.

He can hardly sleep in fear that his scent blockers or his artificial scent might disperse at some point in the night- he can not sleep because just the acknowledgement of another person with the capabilities to do so much harm to him is laying right beside him.

No. What is he thinking. This is Jooheon. This is Jooheon. Jooheon knows about how he becomes restless, how sometimes he can not sleep or eat or speak, he knows, he knows. And yet, Changkyun can’t help the fear. It might be irrational but it doesn’t take a few months to erase a lifetime of pain.

He sits up slowly, moving the older boys arm carefully and watching him in an acute contemplation.

Tell him. His mind hisses. Tell him how the nightmares haven’t stopped. Tell him that you’re not sure what’s real anymore.

His feet touch the ground as he slips out from beneath the covers, shivering slightly as he tiptoes to the door and out to the hallway, making his way to the kitchen.

The light is on but the room is empty and Changkyun pours himself a glass of water, leaning against the worktop and exhaling sharply, his thoughts running like wildfire in his mind, his blood running like ice in his wrists and boiling at his temple and all he can think is how he is ruined and how his mind is a wreck and his body is an even bigger wreck. He swears that no matter how much blockers he sprays on himself he can still smell the scent of sickly sweet omega beneath it and god, he hates it, he hates it, there is nothing good associated with the scent of omega and he would do anything to tear out his identity and become a different person.

He can even see it in their eyes sometimes, how they are so tired of him. He feels like a black hole sucking in everyone he loves and cares about and draining them of life.

Sorry. He’s sorry. He knows that it’s his fault. It always is.

Amidst his thoughts he hears lethargic footsteps in the hall and turns around to see Jooheon in the doorway, his dark hair rumpled from sleep, blearily rubbing his eyes. He squints, seeing the younger boy at the sink, a small crease forming between his brows.

“Kyunnie. Why are you awake?”

He would reply, but his tongue feels like lead and his words get stuck in his throat and he doesn’t want to say a word, he just wants to be somewhere far away.

As though sensing this, Jooheon’s scent becomes stronger and he sends soothing waves of comfort towards the younger boy before moving closer toward him, chewing on his lip, a frown making its way onto his face.

“Say something.” Jooheon’s says, voice kind. “Anything.”

It takes him a sharp breath and tight fists to even say a word.

“I’m sorry.” His voice is a whisper. “I just can’t concentrate right now because everything’s a blur.” And I’m not sure I want to be alive.

Jooheon’s expression turns to sympathy as he pulls Changkyun into his arms, stroking his hair gently.

“My Kyunnie.” He croons, nuzzling into the shorter boys neck, inhaling at his scent gland, a deep purr coming from deep within him, his scent sweetening almost dizzyingly. He moves back a moment later, the dimples in his cheeks deep and thoughtful. “I guess Hoseok hyung wasn’t lying about the scent blockers.”

He feels bad like he always does, he tries to pretend that the stabbing pain in his side which signals that his heat suppressant is wearing off doesn’t exist, he’s taught himself to feign nonchalance and taught himself neutrality like the back of his hand.

“It’s not a big deal. It’s only once anyway. I won’t use them again.”

Jooheon sighs before pressing a tender kiss to the corner of the other boys lips, holding him in his arms once again, the gentleness is almost overwhelming.

“You’re such a soft and messy thing.” He murmurs. “Nobody knows how to take care of you.”

He closes his eyes.

See, no one is even hurting you. His mind rages on. You keep doing this to yourself! It’s all YOUR fault.

“I’m sorry.” His voice is so small. He feels so small right now and like a child he craves for a soft gesture of affection. It is because he is weak. It’s because he isn’t really an alpha. “I know that it’s hard to love me.”

Jooheon pulls back and looks at him in the eye, his gaze is gentle and reassuring, his scent is almost intoxicatingly lulling.

“No Mercy is in the past, Kyun-ah. You know that we don’t feel like that anymore.”

He could laugh because they are so painfully oblivious, there are bruises beneath his clothes, his body is painted purple and blue from his violent use of suppressing pills, there is a constant ache in his abdomen and even a tiny amount of food sets him off, it’s almost laughable how little they know. He could be dying and they wouldn’t realise.

Forget that. He is dying. He always has been, on the inside.

“ I want to kiss you.” Jooheon’s voice is careful. Changkyun can clearly see how the dominance in an alpha differs from that of a beta. Hoseok or Hyunwoo or Minhyuk wouldn’t ask.

He is glad that Jooheon did.

“Then kiss me.”

Jooheon’s smile is filled with passion, his dimples deep, eyes closing as he leans towards the younger, one hand on his waist and the other cupping the base of his neck. His lips brush against Changkyun’s, a brief touch at first, tentative, careful before deepening the kiss and it is ecstasy. Jooheon’s lips are lush and thick and intoxicatingly sweet and Changkyun drinks him in. Jooheon pulls him even closer, the kiss is relaxed and slow and the younger feels dizzy as the elders tongue dances across his cupid’s bow and into his mouth and Changkyun can not help the low moan of pleasure which escapes his lips. He can not explain how, but the way each member kisses him is different in its own euphoric way but right now Jooheon’s tongue is making him feel things and for a moment his mind is clear and he is light and happy and free.

“Please don’t make out in my kitchen.”

It’s like a vice that pulls him out of his daze and Changkyun stumbles back, guilt pooling in the pit of his stomach, trying to ignore the flash of hurt which crosses over Jooheon’s face. His gaze flickers to Kihyun who stands in the doorway, blinking in confusion at the two boys, a frown forming between his brows.

“Sorry.” Kihyun says as the atmosphere thickens. Changkyun pretends that he doesn’t realise how Jooheon’s scent dulls, a festering undertone crawling into the sweet smell and in an instant Kihyun is beside him, arms around his cowering form, nuzzling at his scent gland and Changkyun takes it as his cue to leave.

He thinks about another world where he doesn’t need to hide who he is, a world where his hands are clean and his body pure, a world where they are allowed to love him and he is allowed to love them in contentment.

But he is here and the word omega is ugly over his head. He should have known that the need for affection was coming from somewhere which wasn’t him and yes, he knows that for a moment his omega had growled in dominance and taken over him.

His fingers shake as the veins on his arms spasm, he takes deep breaths as he moves towards the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

He looks at himself in the mirror, pale face and red rimmed eyes, he can’t decide who he hates more.

Which is worse- what he really is or what he pretends to be?

+

He waits in the bathroom with the shower on until he hears Jooheon go back to sleep and Kihyun moving around in the kitchen like he always does at some point at night. It’s a way that he handles things, making sure that everything is in perfect precision, a method of coping.

Changkyun turns the water off and moves to the cupboard, pushing it away from the wall as silently as he can and dislodging a floorboard. Beneath it are packs of the drugs he takes and as he rifles through it he pushes back boxes of blockers but finding non of the suppressing serum. His heart begins to beat faster in growing fear, willing there to be at least one syringe left and it is as though god finally hears one of his prayers because he feels the cold glass on his fingers and sighs in relief.

But it’s the last one. It’s the last one and the volume is mild and what had their manager told him? With so many of the new trainees presenting as omegas without a mate they’d run out of stock and had to wait for another shipment.

It only takes a moment for him to inject the contents of the syringe into his bloodstream and he feels his usual neutrality return to him along with the dizzying reality that he is so goddamned screwed.

It shouldn’t hurt this bad but god, it does, it does.

All he has is a day. A day to find a solution. Or a day to come out in the open.

But is he ready to do that? He thinks about the wounds beneath his skin, the words which resound in his mind, is he really willing to risk anything that he has with his pack mates and tell them what he truly is? A person like him isn’t supposed to be an idol in a pack. People like him are lone wolves that find refuge in between the sheets of strangers and bank notes passed between pillow talks. They are not loved.

How pathetic. He doesn’t even know what love is.

“Who the hell’s taking so long in there?” A sleepy voice whines from outside the door. Changkyun notices the smell of pheromones drifting into the bathroom and wrinkles his nose at the strong scent of alpha, alpha, alpha.

“Ya!” There is a bang on the wood and the scent sours. “I asked a fucking question, no?”

Hell, Minhyuk is scary when he’s in rut.

He turns to the door and twists the handle, wiping the tears which had slipped down his cheeks. He’s met with deep red eyes with bare into his own, teeth which seem a little too sharp and fists clenched to hide the claws which had emerged in frustration.

“I’m sorry, hyung.” He whispers. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

But Minhyuk smiles and it is razor sharp and bitingly cold, his hands crawl to cup the younger’s waist and his lips begin to play at the nape of his neck.

Changkyun tenses, memories pool into his mind, and god, someone save him, he can’t even speak, his tongue is heavy and useless in his mouth and all he can hope to do is stand as still as possible and pray that he survives.

Minhyuk’s lips are hard and he sucks at the exposed skin, he bites down with as much force that his jaw has and Changkyun cries out in pain, hands coming up to push away the older boy but he had never been able to match with alpha strength. His resistance only makes Minhyuk press towards him closer and he wishes that someone would come to him right now and save him, someone, anyone.

His face burns with hot decaying tears, there are hands roaming beneath his shirt, he tries but he can’t fight it, there is blood on his lips and bad blood beginning to mingle in between the alphas laboured breaths and when Changkyun speaks his voice is tiny because he is scared, scared, scared.

“Please stop hurting me.” He chokes out. “I would never do this to you.”

And when Minhyuk pulls away his eyes are still deep red and Changkyun knows that it is Minhyuk’s alpha which is acting impulsively, this is not his boyfriend, and yet the fear is immeasurable. Because the eyes which stare at him with so much predatory lust, it isn’t Minhyuk and yet his mind has already added those claret eyes into his nightmares.

Almost as if to prove that this person hurting him isn’t the boy who knows him or loves him or cares about him, the alpha comes almost inhumanly close to him, lips brushing against his ear when he speaks.

“I’ve sunk my fangs into you.” His voice is sultry and low. “I own you now. I own everything.”

It hits him suddenly and square in his chest, one second he is ravenous, his mind dizzy with a fluorescent scent and he is inhaling it like a drug- the more he breaths it in the higher he seems to get- and the next second he is falling, he has his fangs an inch deep in regret and he is stumbling back with wide eyes. The lights are dim but not dim enough for him to miss the tears shining on a pale face, and it only takes him a second longer to realise that it is Changkyun who is leaning against the sink with rattling breaths, shirtless with the zipper of his pants undone and bruises upon his skin and fuck-

Did I make those? Please tell me I didn’t.

-he feels regret clouding the sober parts of his mind but he still can’t think rationally enough to realise the full and complete severity of his actions.

I’m supposed to say something.

Is it my fault?

I should apologise.

He opens his mouth but he can hardly breathe let alone choke out a single word of remorse and Changkyun’s breathing only gets rougher. The harder he looks at the younger boys torso the stranger it seems, the purples and blue, the swelling, the deep discolouration, rapid breaths, he feels bad, but his body seems to ache more.

Damn it, I couldn’t have bruised him that bad.

You still hurt him. You should say sorry.

What did I even do?

It doesn’t matter what you did.

It isn’t my fault.

Just say sorry.

“Kyunnie.” He starts, taking a step forwards trying to summon up some sort of explanation. When he swallows it tastes penny bitter and metallic and when he breaths the air around them is tense and bitter. But he always makes a mistake, always gets too ahead of himself and of course the younger boy flinches, fuck it he should have apologised first and made up a crappy excuse later.

How hard is it to say sorry?

It’s one word.

He looks at the younger boy who hasn’t moved and he feels something writhe inside him, he swears that he smelt a sweetness which had drove him insane and they all know that he gets more impulsive in rut. Wasn’t it Changkyun’s carelessness for being in the way? He could have called out for help. Anyone would have come running- they all adore him and they would much rather die than have him hurt.

It isn’t his fault. An alpha is supposed to be strong. He always forgets his own strength until he is met with the maknae and is reminded how powerful he really is.

It isn’t Kyun’s fault either though, if he isn’t strong, and the apology is right there on the tip of his tongue. Every second that passes is like pouring salt into an open wound, the hurt only gets more profound on Changkyun’s face and the regret only grows deeper within him.

Fuck it, you’re so disappointing.

You’re losing him.

Fucking apologise you piece of shit.

You can’t lose him.

You can’t.

“Kyun.” He tries again, taking another step forwards. Changkyun’s scent is muted and faint, a coppery smell heavy and lingering upon him, but that is Changkyun, that’s his scent, strangely familiar, strangely soothing. He reaches out a tentative arm in a futile aim to comfort the younger but he cowers away from him, something hard flickering over his usually mild expression.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” He hisses, and Minhyuk pulls back, surprised at the harshness in his tones, eyes widening in disbelief. Changkyun stares at him and the pain in his eyes is so raw, he hates himself, fuck it, he wishes he could take every finger he laid upon the other boys skin back, these hands, they don’t even look like his.

“Don’t ever touch me again.” Changkyun whispers. “I hate you, I fucking hate you, I told you to stop and you laughed in my fucking face, I don’t need your “sorry”’s I need you to go away, you’ve ruined this and you’ve ruined us.”

And he is gone, leaving the elder alone and staring in his wake, heart pulsing a beat too fast, lungs filled with shards of glass and he feels like he is bleeding, decaying. His apologies always come too soon, too late, and when they do they’re neither wanted nor needed.

You’re too late.

He knows.

You’ve lost him.

These hands are strangers’ hands. He’s lost himself too.

+

Changkyun is dancing.

It’s 5am and dawn has hardly broken, sunlight spilling through the warped windows of the practice room. The mirror stretching across the wall is almost taunting; his own image sickens him, the curve of his legs and the line of his waist, and he wants to erase it, bleach the scent of pain out of his skin, burn it off, even if it means unraveling himself.

The music is too loud in his ears, it makes his head throb, the beats pulsing in his temple and he lays back on the floor as it surrounds him.

‘Trespass.’

Starship had introduced their debut song to them and their concept had been clarified immediately- it was all heavy movements and deep voices only showing, no telling- black on black, ripped jeans and gold chains and faking it until they make it. The lyrics had sounded toxic no matter what angle he looked at them from, and even now they reverberate around his head, nothing good, all bad.

He hates it.

He gets to his feet. He blocks out the feeling of fingers ghosting over his hips, clinging onto his waist, he ignores it, he endures it, dancing again.

Can you really call this a crime?

His breaths are too loud in his ears, he stumbles on every other step, steps up rather than down, moves to the left instead of the right. Goes back. Corrects himself. Does it again.

I’m quickly going in, I’m quickly going in, trespassing.

His movements are too soft. Lethargic, light steps and shaking knees- he feels like he is drowning, head under water, mind in the clouds, the harder he tries the more he seems to mess up. Trying too hard. Not trying hard enough.

Can you really say you hate this?

The lyrics seem to merge together into one loud, dominant voice, it is like an anchor and he is pulled back to earth, he feels dirty dirty dirty, his regretful words turn into vices and circulate through his bloodstream, attach onto his organs and they become part of him, they choke him, he can hardly breathe. His knees hit the ground and it spins beneath him distortedly.

Get up get up get up get up.

A sob rips from his lips and he puts his fingers over his mouth to stifle it. He can’t cry, he won’t cry, he is strong, his is brave. He is an alpha.

(Fucking hell, he can’t get the feelings of those foreign fingers out of his mind, today taught him that familiarity does not lessen the fear that arises through touch. It felt the same, Minhyuk, the people before him, there is no difference. He had said no to each of them, none of them had cared-)

Can you really tell us to stop?

He is cold all over, he had rode the bus to the studio and it had been dark and quiet and loud all at once and he hadn’t felt real. Even now he has to dig his nails into his skin to remind himself that he is here and it hurts, it hurts so much.

His alarm buzzes and his head turns, it is 7am already and he stumbles to his feet, switches the music off and squeezes his eyes shut, head still aching.

It’s 7am and he still hasn’t been able to forget those red eyes, those sharp teeth pulled into a grin, marking his body, claiming ownership.

He pulls on the jacket he had picked up from the pile of laundry which was yet to be washed. He notices that it is Hyungwon’s, too long on the torso, long on the arms, slim on the shoulders and fitted at the waist. He shoves his hands into the pockets, wondering whether or not he has time to go to the manager and ask for a day off. Hell, he deserves a day off, a week off, an eternity to forget the images burned into his mind.

His fingers close around a rectangular box and he pulls it out, eying it numbly.

Cigarettes.

He can’t find it in him to care, Hyungwon has sworn to the company months ago that he would quit the habit, but Changkyun pulls out a lighter too and realises that he’d lied, they’re all liars, all of them, the group has been woven off of deception, smiles too wide, eyes too bright and pain which is rooted deep within them.

He puts the cigarette box back into the pocket of the jacket but keeps the lighter for himself. He switches his phone on to see a torrent of messages, dozens of missed calls ranging hours back at he turns it off again, sinking back to the floor.

He’s a bad person. A dirty person.

Maybe he will never come clean.

+

“Changkyun!”

His eyes snap open. He smells him before he sees him, smoke and ashes and sandalwood and alpha alpha alpha. He sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and sees Hyunwoo stood in the doorway, his eyes are creased, lips white and pulled into a frown.

“Have you been here all night?” He demands. “Why didn’t you answer our messages? Or pick up our calls? You should’ve told someone where you were!”

Changkyun takes a deep breath as the leader moves towards him- what is he supposed to say? Should he lie? Why is he here, why is he sleeping in the practice room? Why didn’t he tell anyone he was going? What time did he leave?

Why can’t he think of anything?

“I don’t know, hyung.” He whispers. “It won’t happen again. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, please don’t be angry.”

Hyunwoo’s scent festers, he smells furious, fuming, Changkyun has never seen him with so much rage and it scares him. He’s scared, he’s seen what alphas do when they’re angry, when they aren’t thinking straight. The words spill from his tongue before he can stop them.

“Hyung, hyung.” He says desperately. “I really thought I was dreaming, it was dark outside and cold and I couldn’t see the bus driver and I thought there was another girl on the bus but when I looked back I didn’t see anyone and I was scared, I bit my nails off completely and they’re bleeding now and it really really hurts, this really really hurts, please don’t yell at me, please.”

There are tears on his face- it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either but it makes Hyunwoo’s face soften and his shoulders relax and he sighs.

“Oh, baby.” He says, and his scent sweetens he sends waves of reassurance to the younger, who smiles as though it penetrates his shield, as though it calms him. Hyunwoo moves towards him, arms open invitingly, and how is he supposed to say no? How is he supposed to say ‘don’t touch me’ without explaining why?

“You should have told someone, love.” Hyunwoo is saying. “Kihyun was awake almost all night worrying. So was Jooheon. No one slept. You scared us.”

You’re such a fucking burden, you’re disgusting, look what you’ve done. You’re hurting people who have never hurt you! You’re just as bad as Minhyuk.

“I’m sorry.” Changkyun says thickly. He moves into Hyunwoo’s arms, ignoring the prickling discomfort in the pit of his stomach, laying his head on the other boys shoulder.

“It’s okay.” Hyunwoo says softly, fingers gentle as they trace over his back and Changkyun hates the way he tenses, hates the way a bubble of anxiety raises to his throat and he swallows hard, trying to keep his breathing even, trying not to give anything away.

He’s an alpha. He needs to be strong.

“I spoke to the manager.” Hyunwoo says eventually. “He says that we can have a day off. How does that sound?”

Terrible, fucking awful, you’ll have to see him, you’ll have to see him all day, those hungry eyes, that lust filled scent, say no, say you want to stay here, you can’t go back, you can’t, you have to be selfish here say no say no, you aren’t an alpha, you can’t protect yourself, just lie, just lie, you lie all the time anyway what difference will one more make? Say no, say-

“It sounds great, hyung.” He says. “I can’t wait to spend time with you all.”

If you were going to lie, you could’ve at least lied in your favour.

+

When they arrive back at the dorm, the first to pull him into a hug is Kihyun, who’s eyes are red and puffy and who’s scent is dull and shrouded with anxiety.

“Kyunnie!” He exclaims with a sob, holding the younger boy to his chest tightly. “Oh god, I was so scared! I was so scared, one second you were there and the next second you weren’t and I thought something happened to you! You didn’t even answer my calls I was about to call the police!”

“I’m sorry, hyung.” He says for what feels like the millionth time. “I really am. Please don’t cry.”

The beta kisses his cheek, eyes searching his face for any sign of hurt.

“You’re okay.” Kihyun repeats. “It’s okay. You’re fine.” He takes a breath. “Hoseok hyung used almost all the hot water when he showered. You’re going to have to shower with Hyungwonnie today.”

You can’t. Say no. Don’t you fucking dare say yes.

“I showered at the studio.” He says automatically. “And anyway, where even is Hoseok hyung?”

Kihyuns face darkens and Changkyun curses himself for bringing it up.

“He’s out with his-“

He doesn’t want to hear it.

“With his...” Kihyun looks to the floor. “His... what’s her name?”

“Jaehwa.” Hyunwoo says quietly.

Jaehwa.

“Yes.” Kihyun nods. “His... girlfriend? I don’t know. His something. He’s with her.” And then he adds as though an afterthought. “Don’t tell Jooheonie. Or Minhyuk. Especially not Minhyuk. It’s just... you know how possessive he is over his pack mates and when hyung spoke to us about dating outside the pack... he said he’d be careful. He said he needed something else.... we couldn’t say no...”

Changkyun almost laughs because it’s so fucking funny, the same lips which kissed him were kissing others and it’s hardly a secret why Hoseok would have felt the need to find love outside his pack. Of course he’d want a pretty omega to satisfy his ruts with, a beautiful girl who was clean and pure and perfect-

(And even if they knew that Changkyun is an omega they would never want him, rather they’d want him gone. A dirty omega is worthless, and if they knew how he’d gotten into the company, his name would be little more than mud on the streets. He will never be clean or pure and beautiful, he can not satisfy his alphas. He is a disgrace of an omega and a disgrace of an alpha and he’d much rather be dead than alive-)

“Is Minhyuk hyung here?”

Kihyun shakes his head. “He’s gone out with Jooheon. Said he needed fresh air.”

It’s all your fault, everything is your fault, you’re so fucking dramatic, he didn’t even do anything, he touched you- all he did was touch you, he kissed you, he’s your fucking mate, stop being so fucking weak, stop acting like an omega-

“I’m tired.” He says quickly. “I’m going to go to Hyungwon hyung. Maybe sleep for a bit.”

Kihyun nods, kisses him gently on his lips but it doesn’t hurt because Kihyun is soft, he is kind and small and a beta. Hyunwoo was different. Changkyun’s learned that alphas all taste the same. He moves into the hallway with a sigh.

“Hyung.” He says quietly, entering Hyungwon’s room to see him laying on his bed, dark hair soft and messy, an elegant sweep to his brows, a twinkle in his eyes. His scent is clean, fresh, minty laced with herbs and something mildly sweet and the beta smiles as the younger approaches.

“Hey you.” He says lightly. “You were in the practice rooms weren’t you? Not in danger or anything? I knew you were fine. I told Kihyunnie not to worry.”

Changkyun manages a smile as he climbs onto the bed beside the other boy who is scrolling through his phone listlessly, sighing slightly.

“Our debut is soon.” Hyungwon says, insinuating idle conversation. “Are you excited?”

Is he excited? He’s destroyed himself to get into this company, exploited himself, lied to others, been lied to. Hated himself. Still hates himself.

“The song is terrible.” Is all he says.

Hyungwon chuckles. “You don’t like it?”

“I hate it.” Changkyun huffs. “The concept, the choreography, the lyrics... everything. Maybe it’ll grow on me. Maybe it won’t. It’s not like we have a choice, either way.”

Hyungwon puts his phone down, turning towards Changkyun, putting a hand on his arm, expression playfully serious.

“Aigoo.” He says. “A big bad alpha like you probably feels threatened by us measly betas, am I right?” He presses a chaste kiss the younger’s jaw, teasing, testing the waters before taking the dive. “You’re so cute, Kyunnie.” A peck on the lips. “But you’d better be careful, having such strong opinions about things. That mouth will get you in trouble.”

And then Hyungwon is kissing him, soft and slow and gentle and Changkyun wants to enjoy it, he wants to be able to be touched without feeling pain even if it’s just a beta who he is comfortable with first, even if it takes forever for him to be able to kiss an alpha again- but he isn’t thinking about Minhyuk. For the first time since the night his mind strays and all he can taste in Hyungwon’s mouth is nicotine and he pulls back, eyes wide.

Hyungwon looks annoyed. “What?” He says, folding his arms over his chest. “Baby, you’d better have a good excuse because things were just getting-“

“I found your cigarettes.” Changkyun blurts out without thinking and then he curses himself immediately because there was a thousand better ways he could have said it but in the end it doesn’t matter, the shock is still as profound as he had anticipated, the surprise, the fear, the uncertainty.

“I haven’t told anyone.” He adds, pulling out the box from his pocket and showing it to he elder who looks at it, speechless.

“It isn’t what it looks like.” Hyungwon begins. “I haven’t smoked in ages. It’s probably an old pack. It wasn’t me. I didn’t do anything.”

“Forget it, hyung.” Changkyun says, throwing the pack onto the bed. “I could taste the nicotine on your lips. I’m not stupid. I won’t tell the manager if that’s what you’re afraid of.” A pause. “But I’m telling Hyunwoo hyung. Smoking is dangerous.”

“If you tell hyung, then I’ll tell him that you’re permanently on scent blockers.”

And that really winds him, one second he’s alive and the next he’s being buried yet again, the pain is surreal, like a blow in the chest and he exhales.

“What?!”

“I found the cans in the bin.” Hyungwon says victoriously. “Hyungs don’t know how often you take them, do they? Wouldn’t they be angry? I’ve heard that blockers can have nasty side effects if used long terms. They’re probably why you don’t get ruts.”

Breathe. Breathe. He doesn’t know. He barely knows what’s on the tip of the iceberg. Play it off. You’re safe as long as he doesn’t tell anyone. You’re safe as long as this is all he knows.

“I’m not going to ask why.” Hyungwon is saying. “I guess it’s a personal reason. I don’t care. It’s non of my business.”

Thank god for Chae Hyungwon.

“Okay.” Changkyun nods shakily. “Okay. You can have your cigarettes. I won’t tell anyone. But neither can you, then. Promise me.”

The smile on Hyungwon’s face is a mask of triumph.

“I won’t if you don’t.” He says simply.

I need to change. I don’t want to be myself anymore.

They shake on it. It’s settled.

Be careful. You’re swimming in the deep end now.

He can hear the sound of water filling the tub as though it is a background noise to the infinite dizziness which is almost corroding him. He pulls himself off his knees, fingers grasping the edge of the sink and he can hardly mask the groan of pain which slips through his lips. He dips his palms into the water blindly, the soap forms bubbles on the surface and it is painfully soft to touch.

But god, it burned.

The smell of bleach becomes exceedingly apparent through the haze in his mind and he almost feels sickened. He is here again, barely a week later, dawn spilling through the warped glass of the window, trying to burn his actions out of his skin and forget they ever happened.

He hears a knock on the door. Sharp taps, once, twice, three times before he loses patience and manages to choke out words, “What the fuck do you want?” He flinches at his own tone, his own choice of language disgusts him and for a second he contemplates swallowing the bleach just to clean his filthy tongue.

Instead he waits.

“Hyunwoo hyung told you to hurry up. We’re going to be late.” The voice is light and quiet but his mind is an array of distortion and he can’t decipher this one noise from the rest.

Rather than humming in acknowledgement, he stumbles forwards- the water drips from his hair right down to his feet, he is drenched from head to toe and it keeps on flowing until he is bathing in an ocean of his regrets. He opens the door, coughing lightly as his eyes adjust to the light.

“Jooheon ah?” He murmurs. The younger boy starts in surprise, eyes widening as he steps forwards.

“Hyung? What... what’re you doing? Why are you wet? What-“

“Jooheonie.” Minhyuk staggers back drunkenly, his words slurring from his lips. “Don’t... don’t touch me. Go away from me I’m... dangerous.”

“Hyung.” Jooheon puts a hand out. “Are you drunk? We have a schedule, hyung. You should be responsible for yourself-“

“You know I didn’t mean it don’t you?” Minhyuk says, eyes half lidded. “I really didn’t mean it.”

“Hyung.” Jooheon says. He grabs onto Minhyuk’s arm, pulling him away from the wet tiles of the bathroom floor but the alpha exclaims in horror, wrenching his arm out of the betas grip with a cry, “Don’t touch me, please! I might hurt you again. I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry.”

Jooheon stares in confusion, checks the time and grazes his eyes over the raw skin of the elders hands, the bruise like circles around his eyes, the stench of disinfectant, “How many days has it been since you slept?”

“I haven’t slept in five days, Kyun ah. I can’t stop thinking about what I did. But you forgive me, don’t you? You didn’t tell anyone, right?”

Kyun? Jooheon feels something explicitly sickening forming at the back of his throat, he doesn’t know what this is, but whatever it is, it’s private and he knows that he shouldn’t be here. That he shouldn’t be hearing this.

“Hyung... just dry off. Change your clothes, hm? I don’t think I should be here.” He turns around, grimacing slightly, heart racing faster than he’d care to admit and fear making its way into the crevices of his bones. He feels a hand pulling him back and almost shrugs it off but he can’t, he can’t because he’s Jooheon and kindness is all he knows.

“What’s wrong hyung?” He sighs. Minhyuk’s face is streaked with tears, fingers shaking, lip trembling, he is a mess, a disaster, his hands hold tightly onto the fabric of Jooheon’s shirt, knuckles whitening, eyes filled with desperation, urgency- it’s a wild, feral look. He looks more monster than person.

“I don’t care anymore.” He whispers. “It’s been a week. Pull out my claws. Pull out my fangs. You forgive me don’t you? Can we just move on?”

Jooheon thinks that it would be selfish to give him hope, so instead he says nothing.

+

Changkyun is late.

He can feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, messages from their group chat igniting his screen but he ignores it, pulling his mask over his face as he sprints back to the practice rooms.

(He’s so stupid to have left his scent blocker behind, it’s the only thing he has right now with the supply shortage in the company, hell he’s such a mess and it’s really beginning to show.)

He pushes the door open and hurries up the stairs, entering the practice room which he’d been in, looking around desperately for the small bottle, his breathing heavy as he moves towards the place where he swears he’d left it.

Where the hell is it?

He searches the room, corner to corner but nothing, he doesn’t catch even a glimpse and the panic begins to grow within him, starting in his gut and rising to the back of his throat, he stands in the middle of the room, palms on his temple breathing heavily, he’s about to start crying or something stupid and he needs to bite his lip to catch himself.

He’s about to turn around, about to leave when he sees three trainees stood at the door, tall and slim with masks covering their faces. Changkyun eyes them wearily. One of them steps forwards, holding something up in his hand.

“Looking for this?”

The first thing he notices is the alpha smell. Smoke and bark and something explicitly bitter. He steps back on impulse.

The second thing he notices is the bottle in the trainees hand. He’s far enough that he should need to squint to make it out but he doesn’t need to, no, he would recognise this even if he was twenty feet away, he can almost see his fingertips on the metal surface and he’s at a loss for words.

Scent blocker. His scent blocker.

His first instinct is to lie, deny any connection, walk away free, walk away empty handed. He can. He knows that he can, but he also knows that he’d have to fly to the moon and back before they’d believe him.

His second instinct is to just run. His fight or flight urge is gnawing at him and he swallows hard before taking a step forwards.

“Give it to me.” His voice, to its credit, doesn’t shake or waver, but they are alphas, they are big and strong, they are powerful. They use omegas like him.

“I don’t think so.” The trainee tuts. “Tell me, what would an alpha like you be doing with a scent blocker, hm?”

Changkyun doesn’t answer, he bites his lip, his pulse drumming in his ears, his breaths becoming shallow- any excuse has left him and his mind is blank.

“Not so big and bad now, are you?” One of the trainees step forwards slowly, eyes narrowed tauntingly. “You think you’re a wolf under all that wool? Don’t make me laugh.”

He takes another step. So slow, so exhaustless, but Changkyun is exhausted.

“Take a deep breath.” The trainee continues. “What do you smell?” He sniffs the air and scoffs. “Do you know what I smell?”

Changkyun shakes his head, frozen in his place. His phone is vibrating in his pocket but he can’t muster up the courage to pick it up- all he can see is the scent blocker which belongs to him, which is rightfully his.

“I smell lies.” The trainee whispers. He tosses the bottle to one of the boys behind him and moves closer, so close that Changkyun can smell his cologne, can see the band of blue on the outside of his irises, so close that he almost throws up from the scent of alpha at such close proximity. He tried to hold his ground, but he is weak against an alpha.

“Tell me.” The trainee says, voice low, teeth gritted. “How many dicks did you need to suck to get into this company?”

Dirty. You’re fucking dirty, close your eyes, you can still feel him inside you, say no as loud as you want, it’s not enough and it’ll never be enough, you can change who you are and you can change what you are but you can never change what happened to you.

The room is spinning?

You have people who care about you and you still act like you’re alone, like you’re dying, like you’re neck deep in pain and like quicksand it pulls you down. You know you are selfish and you know you’re unclean, lie all you want, they have been inside you once and they will do it again, you are nothing against them. You are an omega, made to be used, and god, were you used...

“Do we just need to suck a few dicks and take a few in the ass to debut as well?”

I can’t feel my legs.

“Answer me you fucking slut!”

I feel dizzy...

“Hey!” The trainee jerks at his collar, brows deep and furrowed in anger. “Are you deaf? Did you really think you could fool anyone, saying that you’re an alpha? You’re so fucking pitiful. Just take your shit and get out of the company. Nobody wants to look up to a whore who belongs in a brothel.”

He can’t protest even if he wants to. He can’t find fault with the trainees words.

“You didn’t deserve to debut. We’ve been here for years. It’s not right, that you were given privileges.” A pause and then he leans closer, hot breaths down his neck. “Who was it? Which one fucked you? How many times? We all know you didn’t get in for free.”

“I’m not like that.” He says weakly, but the lies are blatant, even in his own ears and the trainee backhands him across the face.

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” Glinting eyes. The smell of danger.

“Let go of me.”

Another blow, this time a punch to his abdomen and he falls to his knees immediately. “Watch who you’re giving orders to.” Another punch just below his ribs and then his scent blocker is thrown into his lap and an irritated stench basks the room. Changkyun groans but keeps his eyes trained to the ground, gritting his teeth together as the pain shoots up his ribs.

“Now, Changkyunnie.” The trainee coos. “I wouldn’t tell anyone about this if I were you. Not unless you want us to spill your little secret.” He brings his foot back and before Changkyun can say a word, splitting pain shoots up his spine and he bites his tongue in order to stop himself from exclaiming in pain.

They leave and finally his tears fall, pools of pain, ice cold down his cheeks and he clasps his fingers over his lips so to not make a noise, leaving himself gasping for air, shrouded in misery.

Stop fucking crying. Everyone hates you when you’re sad.

+

It’s early evening and they’re waiting for food. The tension in the room is amiable and far from comfortable- side swept glances and awkward stares and Changkyun hardly dares to raise his eyes from his lap. To his credit, Minhyuk has been avoiding Changkyun enough that he himself doesn’t need to go out of his way to do so. To be truthful, half of him wishes that they could get over this, that Minhyuk could just say sorry, say that he was wrong, at least try to make amends, but the other half of
him is glad that he can stay away from the alpha.

“Okay food’s ready.” Kihyun’s voice cuts through the tension as he enters, bowls between his fingers, distributing evenly. Changkyun thanks him quietly and feels a tug to his sleeve, turning his head to see Hyungwon looking at him expectantly.

“Are you going to tell me why you were late to the meeting?” He asks quietly. Changkyun looks down at his food. “I already told you, hyung. I slept in.” Hyungwon rolls his eyes, moves closer to the younger with a sigh.

“I hope you realise that no one believes that.” Changkyun shrugs, picking up his chopsticks and stabbing at the food aimlessly, not really feeling hungry.

“Just because you don’t believe me doesn’t mean I’m going to change what I said.” His tone is final and he turn away but Hyungwon nuzzles into his neck insistently.

Changkyun freezes. He feels his body going hot in strange places, he feels a sudden sharp pain in his stomach and an immediate hypersensitivity which causes him to jerk away from the touch. Hyungwon looks at the younger, hurt beginning on his face but Changkyun doesn’t have time for guilt, he staggers to his feet, placing his bowl on the table and moving towards the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.” He manages to say, before entering and locking the door behind him.

What’s happening to me?

He clutches at his stomach as stabbing pain rockets through his lower abdomen, taking deep breaths as waves of nausea bask over him.

It hurts, it’s hurts so much, make it go away please it hurts-

Every place where his skin is exposed feels too hot and too cold, both equally and simultaneously and he is hyper aware of this over sensitivity which has settled over him painfully. He had felt it in the morning when the trainees had hit him, but he’d excused it for embarrassment or anger. He bites his lip as he moves towards the mirror, staring at his reflection bitterly.

He seems to have lost a considerable amount of weight, the hollows of his cheeks have become distinct and his clothes are loose on his diminishing form. He lifts the bottom of his shirt up and gapes.

What the fuck.

Bloated. His stomach is distinct, not flat or hollowed as it usually is and even his chest his swollen- he can’t help but to hiss every time his shirt brushes against his skin.

What’s happening, what is this? No no no, this isn’t real, this can’t be real. This doesn’t happen to me. I’m an alpha. I have to be. I need to be.

He fumbles with taking his phone from his pocket and opens up a new tab. After a moments hesitation he searches up his symptoms with a growing feeling of dread deep within him. He scans the search results quickly and the tears form in his eyes almost immediately because no, this can’t be real. Not now. Not here.

Pre-heat.

Pre-heat symptoms.

Signs of an oncoming heat.

Omega heat cycles.

One after another, the same answer and any hope is fast replaced with fear. He is out of heat suppressants and he is out of alpha pheromones, all he has is his stupid ass fucking scent blocker and it isn’t enough, it’s never enough, he may as well sign his own death warrant.

They’ll all know. They’ll know what he is. What he’s done. They’ll know that he is dirty that he’ll never come clean, they’ll wash themselves a few times and wash his scent off of them and they will be flawless, but he can scrub all he likes, he will never be able to be pure again.

It’s okay. Wipe your eyes. Put on a brave face. Talk so lightly, hide the truth. They can’t smell what they don’t know. Keep your head held high. They’ll never see you on your knees.

He looks at his body one last time. His hips are too wide, chest too big. Forget being an omega, he hardly looks like a man. He needs to do something about that. Not now. Later.

He leaves the bathroom with a deep breath, takes his place beside Hyungwon ignoring his inquiring look and instead presses a quick kiss to his lips. The elder smiles in satisfaction and leans into him, wrapping an arm around his waist and Changkyun tries his hardest not to cringe away, tries not to think about it too much. Hoseok turns a drama on and Changkyun pretends to watch, pretends that he’s interested as Hyungwon kisses up and down his neck, as Kihyun sits on the other side of him and takes his fingers into his own- he pretends like the only thing he can focus on is not his boyfriends fingers on him and it works- for the most part.

Maybe he is too immersed in his act, because he doesn’t notice Minhyuk’s eyes on him, nor does he notice Jooheon’s eyes flickering between the two of them, weary, guarded.

Step lightly, now. You know your good intentions always end up bad.

It’s late evening when he gets the call. There’s only weeks separating them from their debut, and the early mornings mixed with practicing choreography into the late hours of night have left them all exhausted, and clinging to sleep upon every given opportunity.

Changkyun’s phone had jerked him awake and he answers it before it can do anymore harm, secretly chastising himself for falling asleep at all considering his current situation. He holds the receiver to his ear and mumbles a disoriented greeting, but the voice attached to the reply sobers him up immediately. He whispers quickly, politely, formalities lacing throughout his words and when he ends the call it takes him a moment to just gather his thoughts.

He stands to his feet, scanning the others in the dim light, realising that it would be hours before they wake and that he should probably not disturb them. He manages to slip into his shoes and out through the door within moments as he makes his way to the Starship building, fear gnawing at him far more fiercely than he’d care to admit.

+

“Ah, Changkyun. Sit down.”

Changkyun bows deeply, an expression close to endearment upon his face. He’s always revelled in the CEO’s ability to remain nonchalant despite the direness of the situation, and he sits down in a chair across from the mans desk, feigning apathy despite the anxiety which is only growing within him.

“Seongsaenim.” He says softly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” His eyes flicker up in time to catch the CEO’s grin as he leans forwards, lowering his voice when he speaks.

“Come on, Changkyun ah. I think we’re far past these meaningless formalities, don’t you agree?”

Changkyun couldn’t disagree more, he’s attempted to place a firm distance between himself and his past despite the vivid nightmares which plague him and the blatant edginess which has been ingrained into him- he’d rather not show any familiarity towards the CEO. If anything, he’d rather keep his distance. After all, out of sight, out of mind.

But the CEO brushes this away as though it’s of little importance, placing a black file with Changkyun’s name written at the front on his desk, his expression turning serious. He opens it up and leafs through it as though he hasn’t seen it a hundred times before, as if he doesn’t know the information off by heart, as though the words may somehow change themselves into something less painful. He turns the pages painstakingly slowly and Changkyun can feel his patience wearing thin.

Finally, he fixes Changkyun with a hard stare, and Changkyun swears that there is some pity behind those stone cold eyes. Pity for the broken boy. Pity for the omega male. Pity for the communal whore. Just pure, undiluted pity and Changkyun is lying if he says he doesn’t fucking hate it, being looked at as though he is some sort of walking tragedy, being looked at as though a prostitute is all he is and all he’ll ever be and fucking hell, he’s just so tired of being used. After a long moment of silence, the CEO finally speaks, though what he’s says isn’t what Changkyun expects.

“It’s mating season, Changkyun ah.”

Changkyun doesn’t know how to react. Of course he’d known it somewhere at the back of his mind but he’d never really paid the thought much attention until now. But what is this? Why is the CEO staring at him like a predator eying it’s prey? He feels anger brew within him, and the words leave his mouth before he can stop them.

“I’m not going to be the company’s little bitch.”

He claps his hands over his mouth as soon as he says it, but it’s too late to take it back. The CEO raises an eyebrow and any sign of his semi cheerful facade disappears, replaced by cruel calculation, easy intimidation.

“Watch your mouth, Changkyun.” He says, voice hard. The tone behind his words is sinister, taking on an imperceptibly dangerous lilt and Changkyun feels his previous statement coming back at him, and he closes in on himself in defence.

“Okay. Let’s place the words you just said behind you.” The man continues. “I wouldn’t dwell on them. I’m sure you will pay for them tenfold. Just not today.” He closes the file and smiles slightly. “So. As I was saying. Mating season.”

Changkyun nods, seeing it as his cue to speak. “We... decided after No Mercy that the alphas will just... take neutralisers. We can’t afford to waste time with our debut so close.”

The CEO nods, eyes baring into the younger and Changkyun swears that they are snake eyes, cold and dark without an inch of remorse. Unlike Changkyun, he is less apathetic and more nonchalant, although he could claim for both indifferent synonyms and take them both.

“And you? Are you going to take a neutraliser, Changkyun ah? The first shipment comes in the afternoon. I doubt your betas are going to let you hide as you dispose of it. You’ve already developed an unhealthy dependency upon blockers and suppressants. They’re catching on, Changkyun. Whether you like it or not.”

And Changkyun doesn’t want to hear it, he knows that the other members will have to find out eventually but if he’s honest he’d planned to pack his things up and leave before it got to that point. He hadn’t expected them to be so eager to form a pack and despite the fact that they aren’t officially mated yet, Changkyun knows that he’ll have to shoot himself in the neck before any one of them let him leave.

“I don’t have any suppressants left.” Is all he says bitterly and he knows that upon those words that the shock which registers upon the CEO’s face is genuine.

“Your stock shouldn’t be finished, Changkyun ah. You had enough to last you until debut.” His voice is deadly quiet and Changkyun bites his lip, trying to think of an excuse. His mind draws a blank and he exhales sharply as the older man places his palm roughly in his desk. “What did you do with the suppressants, Changkyun. I won’t ask again. Answer me whilst I’m being nice.”

“I...” Changkyun can’t help the whimper which forms in his throat. The CEO is a beta, but the thought of any older man regardless of secondary gender raising his voice at him makes him cower in fear. “I used them. Of course.”

“You know you only had to take them once a week.”

Changkyun looks at his fingers. “Yeah, maybe I messed up that part.”

The room falls into a silent tension, Changkyun doesn’t dare look up and the CEO remains unspeaking. It becomes almost uncomfortable, to the point where Changkyun clears his throat and the CEO finally speaks.

“Stand up.”

Changkyun does as he’s told. He’d be stupid not to. The older man gestures towards himself and Changkyun moves forwards until there is barely a foots difference between them. The CEO touches the younger’s forearm with a sigh. “I’m not going to hurt you. But I do need to check your arms. With proper usage, the suppressants shouldn’t leave track marks.”

He allows the man to roll up his sleeve despite knowing what’s beneath it. His shoulders slump and the CEO tuts at the bruises littering his arms and the blatant marks running up them. “You’ve made a mess of yourself.” He says and then. “You must be in pre heat right now. Or at least showing symptoms.”

Changkyun takes his arms back and crosses it over his chest defensively. “I can’t do anything about it.” He says. “I’m out of options. Can’t you at least give me some time off from schedules?”

“You know I can’t.” The CEO says immediately. “As you said, your debut is far too close. If you ask me, you should tell one of your members. An alpha, preferably, if you’d rather your secret didn’t get out. After all, at least an alpha can mask your scent with his. Scent blockers won’t work whilst you’re in heat. I told you when you chose to hide your identity, Changkyun, that it would do you more harm than good.”

There is no place for an omega male in an entertainment company, especially not one like you, filthy and impure and rotten to the very core.

“Changkyun.” The CEO turns to say one last thing. “This is a dangerous game you’re playing. Your dependency upon these drugs is border lining an addiction. The last thing you need is to experience withdrawal once you stop taking them.”

It takes everything in him not to laugh.

It’s a little late for that now.

+

By the time Changkyun returns it’s dark outside and almost everyone is as he’d left them. He leaves his shoes at the door and drops onto a chair, feeling winded. Everyone had decided to crash in the living room, but it takes him a moment to realise that there are only five people around him, and not six.

“Where have you been?”

He jerks up as though he’s been electrocuted, and turns around to see Minhyuk in the doorway, skin pale and eyes wide. His scent is dull and shrouded with misery and Changkyun needs to do a double take at his ragged appearance.

“I was...” He takes a deep breath. The uneasiness is involuntary despite knowing that he’s perfectly safe, despite knowing that if Minhyuk so much as tries anything all he’d have to do is shout and everyone would wake up. He bites his lip. “I was at the company.”

Minhyuk nods without question and Changkyun sighs with relief and says a silent thanks- but it isn’t enough for him to open up to the other boy yet. He isn’t going to hold his hand out first. Not this time.

Instead he turns around, moves towards the bathroom almost mechanically and locks the door behind him, the CEO’s words ringing sharply in his ears.

This is a dangerous game you’re playing.

It takes everything within him not to growl in frustration as he stands in front of the mirror once again, switching the lights on and glaring at his reflection.

How could anyone believe that you’re an alpha?

He sighs softly, lifting the edge of his huge sweater up and pulling it over his head. He can’t help but to stare at his abdomen, the ugly femininity of it, his wide set hips ands slim waist, the bloated stomach and swollen chest. He could get away with the oversized clothing for now but he knows he needs to think of something before dress rehearsals begin and he has nothing to hide behind.

The idea comes to him quickly and he acts upon it even quicker. He pulls the medical kit out from a cupboard and opens it, locating the box of gauzes and taking them out, standing up and surveying them. They range from thin strips to wide, five inch, heavy duty bandages and he holds them between his fingers for a second. He goes with the widest bandage available, putting the rest away and extracting a pair of scissors.

He takes a deep breath, weighing his options. Finally, he places a strip upon his chest and begins to wrap the gauze around his upper torso tightly, so tight that it’s almost painful, wrapping it tirelessly, teeth gritted as he does so, feeling tears form in his eyes. He wishes that he wasn’t like this. He just wants to be normal.

He cuts the bandage and seals it, pocketing the roll and pulling his shirt down. He turns to his side and bites his lip. Not perfect. But passable. He turns to where he’d hidden his only scent blocker, feeling defeated. They have a schedule at midnight. The others will be awake soon.

He shakes the can before directing it towards himself, pressing the button, holding his breath.

Nothing. It’s empty.

No.

He shakes it once more and he swears he can feel panic begin within him.

No no no. No. This isn’t real. Please.

Empty. Empty.

Fucking empty.

“Don’t do this. Please not now. Not here.” His pleas are desperate and futile in the lone night, he shakes the bottle again, hard, breaths quickening with fear because he should have enough, he should have at least something left.

But there’s nothing.

He throws the scent blocker to the floor, a feral cry forming from somewhere deep within him and his fingers are unsteady as he runs them through his hair, mind working fiercely as he thinks of a solution.

He grabs the hem of his shirt and inhales, it smells like nothing and soon that nothing will become sweet and desirable and omega and he can’t have that. He could try to look through a hyungs clothes, something that smells strong, something that smells like an alpha.

But he is almost in heat. An alpha smell won’t mask a smell so strong, nothing can. Nothing except-

Changkyun’s eyes widen as he reaches the verdict. He flickers his gaze to the mirror, pale skin and dark circles around his eyes, his veins visible at his temple. He’s scared. He’s so scared.

Only the smell of an alpha in rut will mask the smell of an omega in heat. And he only knows one alpha who was recently rutting.

His eyes dart to the door and then to the laundry basket in the corner. He can only hope that there’s something there that he can work with. He sorts through them lightly, desperately god please, work in my favour just this once, the world owes me this one at least- and it seems that the universe has pity on him because he pulls out a large sweater and a pair of skin tight jeans which reek of alpha, of arousal, of Minhyuk and he takes a breath before shrugging out of his own clothes and into the alphas.

They fall strangely. The jeans are loose on the leg but are fitted around his waist where his stomach is bloated, the sweater hangs off of his diminishing frame but he still looks so large and he repulses himself. He grimaces at his reflection, longing to at least use a cologne to mask the awful smell of Minhyuk, but he bites the urge down before leaving the room.

He moves towards the living room. No one has moved from where they sleep, but neither has Minhyuk returned to where he’d lain. Suddenly the CEO’s words dance through his mind, a mockery-

”If you ask me, you should tell one of your members. An alpha, preferably, if you’d rather your secret didn’t get out. After all, at least an alpha can mask your scent with his.

-but no one is awake, no one besides Minhyuk and he’s the last person that Changkyun wants breathing down his neck.

He pauses at the door, mind spinning. All he needs to do is distance himself from the idea of intimacy, entertain the thought that, had he been desperate enough, he would beg any alpha to scent him, and that there was nothing even mildly arousing about it. He glances over once again to the rest of his pack mates before biting his lip. He’s never asked any of the members to scent him before, and out of all people Minhyuk would be the first to do so. They aren’t talking right now. Does it matter? Could they just put that behind them?

He takes a deep breath. It’s okay. He can do this. It’s an innocent request and Minhyuk isn’t in rut anymore. And besides, if anything happens he just needs to scream. Scream and he’s safe. He can do this. Patch things up with Minhyuk. It isn’t the alphas fault he’s like this. It’s the result of his past. It isn’t Minhyuk’s fault. He needs to tell himself that. He can’t blame one person. It was never just one person.

He can do this.

Minhyuk is exhausted.

It is the type of exhaustion which settles, it fills in the crevices of his hollowed joints and leaves them aching, it presses to the pads of his feet and the palms of his hands and it doesn’t go away.

He stands against the kitchen worktop with a soft sigh as the coffee machine hums whilst making his drink, the background music to the infinite dizziness and regret which plagues his mind. He wants to tell himself that when Changkyun had spoken to him there’d been some sort of familiarity and closure, but he knows that there was nothing, just eyes clouded with accusation and fingers clenched with fear- and Minhyuk is afraid that nothing will ever be the same again. That everything is truly ruined.

He hates himself.

He has hated himself for over two weeks now, every time he closes his eyes, his sins whisper dirty secrets into his ears, why is hands are still dirty, why they won’t come clean.

He hears soft footsteps in the living room but he doesn’t turn to look at the door. He closes his eyes and focuses on what he’s doing. He’s dangerous now, and he doesn’t want to hurt the other alpha again.

The steps pause for a moment, between the living room and the kitchen as though pondering considerably before taking small, tentative steps. Minhyuk’s hears them stop outside the doorframe, but still he makes no move to acknowledge them.

Do not lose yourself again. These things aren’t games. You can’t erase your touch from someone else’s skin. Don’t make the same mistake twice.

He breathes in deeply. Once. Twice. Counts to ten. He’s about to turn around, about to say yes I know you’re there, keep your distance, stay away, but before he can he feels a slight weight upon the small of his back a soft voice.

“Hyung.”

He’d miscalculated. The voice comes from directly behind him, not several paces away and he turns around sharply, about to protest, about to move away from the touch when he stops.

The clothes. Changkyun is wearing the clothes. The ones he’d worn when he’d done that, when he’d... when he’d...

You’re pathetic. Get on your knees and beg for forgiveness from him. You will never deserve him.

“Move away, Changkyun.”

He doesn’t mean for his voice to sound so harsh, Changkyun is hollow in the pale light, hollow in the sense that his cheeks are sunken and bones are prominent- hollow in the sense that his eyes are empty and aching, both equally and simultaneously.

Changkyun doesn’t move, though he does flinch almost imperceptibly. He is so small and Minhyuk can’t understand how he’s never noticed it before, his slight frame, the vulnerability in his expression. Minhyuk feels guilty.

It hurts more than he’s willing to admit.

“I want to speak to you.” Changkyun almost whispers, dropping his gaze. “I want to say that I’m sorry.”

How pathetic, look at him standing in front of you, a mouth full of apologies and then look at yourself, waiting for someone to spit pity into your soul- pathetic, you are sickening and you will never ever deserve his kindness.

“Kyun.” Minhyuk’s voice is faint. “Kyun please.” He doesn’t even know what to say. “Why are you apologising?”

“I want to fix things with you, hyung. I hate fighting.”

He is ten times the person you’ll ever be.

“Why?” Minhyuk’s voice is empty. “Why would you want to talk to me?”

Changkyun steps forwards.

“Because, hyung. I miss you. I hate that we’re not talking.”

Well then? Apologise to him as well, rip your heart out and put it up as an offering and maybe if you beg loud enough he’ll forgive you.

“Are you sure?” Minhyuk’s says tentatively. “Do you really want to?” He scans the younger for any sign of resistance but he feels as though he’s looking upon a blank canvas- Changkyun is as always, scarce and unreadable.

“Of course, hyung.” He says, a ghost of a smile upon his lips. “It was stupid anyway, right? We should just stop and put it all behind us.”

“Then I’m sorry.” Minhyuk’s voice is weaker than he expects, weaker than he wants it to be and he bites his lip in order to hide how it trembles, closes his fists so that they don’t shake. “I’m sorry Kyunnie. For what I did. There’s... there’s no excuse. Really.”

But Changkyun laughs, brushes it off. “Oh, that?” He says. “Is that what we were fighting over? I don’t even think about it. It was nothing, wasn’t it? It was just a bit of touching. Don’t worry hyung, I don’t hold it against you.”

It wasn’t just a bit of touching, bad alpha, dirty alpha, he is lying, he is hurt.

Minhyuk smiles in relief, nods. “Well then. If you say so.”

And yet you’ll still believe him, ignore the fear behind his eyes, of course, it means nothing to you.

Changkyun smiles back, small, soft, too soft, don’t get ahead of yourself, maybe it’s too half hearted, maybe it lingers for a moment too long but Minhyuk ignores that because he isn’t kind and he isn’t under any obligation to be so-

You could be decent, you should be. And yet...

“Hyung.”

Changkyun is speaking again, he needs to force himself to listen- he smiles again (maybe it’s too fake, maybe it’s too forced), and hums in acknowledgement.

“Will you scent me, hyung?”

Hide the shock, hide the surprise- Minhyuk can feels Changkyun’s gaze beneath his own and he sucks in a sharp breath, biting his lip. What are you trying to do, Kyun ah? I know that this isn’t you.

“Are you sure?” Minhyuk’s asks tentatively. He doesn’t understand- perhaps he’s being too dense. Changkyun’s expression seems wide, open, but Minhyuk knows that it’s just a lie, it always is, he’s closed up, shut off and he thinks that no one notices.

That too is a lie. Everyone notices.

“Of course I’m sure, hyung.” Changkyun says with another step forwards. His hair falls softly, framing his face, he looks young, he looks vulnerable.

He is, he is.

“This isn’t you, Changkyun. This isn’t what you want.”

Something flashes in the younger boys eyes, something dangerous, something strange and Minhyuk needs to look away.

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t want, hyung. You should be happy. I know you were all wondering if I was frigid.”

Minhyuk feels his cheeks burn. “We never-“

Changkyun interrupts.

“I’m not asking for much, hyung.” There’s a hint of desperation in his voice and it causes a bitter taste to grow in his throat.

He never asks for much. Are you really one to deny him?

“Okay.” Minhyuk whispers. “Okay Kyun. Come here I’ll... I’ll scent you.”

It’s awkward and there’s no doubt about it, he doesn’t usually ask or consent to scent or be scented but he supposes that this is just so explicitly Changkyun that he is hardly even surprised. He opens his arms as an invitation and Changkyun obliges to moving into them, an almost imperceptible hesitance before he does so.

But Minhyuk perceives it. It makes him uncomfortable.

They don’t dwell upon courting, Minhyuk hardly puts a hand upon him, touching his shoulder gently before cradling his cheeks, tilting his head to expose his neck, his jaw, his scent glands.

His pulse- one bite and he would be out.

Minhyuk takes a soft breath and it fans out against Changkyun’s skin. He supposes that this is intimate in some strangely gruelling way, and he gets closer, lips barely a hairs breadth away from the sensitive skin, a moment, it only takes a moment.

Changkyun flinches.

It isn’t like before and he can’t just shake it off. Minhyuk doesn’t move back, but the uncomfortable prickle only grows, spreads throughout him and he speaks softly into the younger’s ear.

“You really don’t want this, Kyun.”

In response Changkyun growls, his hand comes up into Minhyuk’s hair forcing him down against his scent glands. He only hesitates for a moment before gently rubbing his cheeks against the gland, emitting a low purr as he does so, placing his hands upon the other alphas waist, closer, closer, pulling him closer. There is hardly a scent upon the younger at all but Minhyuk has gotten used to this, it hardly fazes him as his hums softly, pressing his lips against the nape of Changkyun’s neck, smelling his own musky scent as he begins to retreat.

Closer, closer-

Minhyuk jerks back. Changkyun’s face is flushed, his neck red and smelling of strong alpha pheromones. He’s about to say something, anything, but Changkyun turns around and leaves without saying a single word.

Minhyuk bites his tongue.

At least you didn’t get ahead of yourself.

Yes. He managed to reign himself in this time.

It doesn’t make you any better of a person, though.

God, does he knows it.

+

Changkyun leaves.

First he leaves the room, fingers fluttering over his arms get out, get out, I don’t want you near me, I don’t want them in me, breath held, softly, so very softly.

He then leaves the dorm, the door clicks shut behind him and still, he doesn’t breathe, he doesn’t want to, he knows what he’ll smell, alpha, alpha, alpha, he is less disgusted and more terrified- don’t touch me, don’t feel me, I’m not yours to pollute, I’m not yours to destroy.

He is outside now, cold wind in his face, the sky is hues of ochre and violet and it should be beautiful, he should be happy and smiling in the face of the dusk but no- take deep breaths now, clean your lungs out. Emerge from the ashes a different person. You aren’t an item, no one will use you ever again-

There are tears in his eyes and he blinks them away.

Be strong, be strong. This storm too, will pass.

He was meant to sort this out. He was supposed to make things right with Minhyuk, not use him and walk away-

What you did is not justifiable, it makes you just as bad as everyone who used you.

Does it? He doesn’t mean to be as afraid as he is, but a life of pain can not be shrouded in a moment of love. They don’t seem to understand. All the love in the world can not save him. He remembers a voice, gentle and kind in the dying night, he was younger, far younger- ”Love does not mean pain, you know.”- and his own voice, like an echo, a tattoo burned into his mind- ”Then what does it mean?”

It has been years and still, still.

He does not know.

+

Hyungwon is awake before his body fully realises it, he wakes up heavy and numb, fingers itching, cigarettes, pills, something, anything- His first thought is to destroy himself and his second is to destroy someone else.

But he is good. He does neither.

He gets up, raising himself upon his elbows, mind aching as though he is hungover. The air smells sweet, pomegranates and honey, too sweet, intoxicating, it leaves an acrid taste at the back of his throat and it leaves him dizzy and sick.

He isn’t half dizzy as he is sick.

He stands upon his feet, reaches a hand out slowly, slowly,, using the wall as his guide. The sky is barely darkening, a lustful wine red and soon he’ll be waking everyone up, telling them that it is something o’clock and they don’t want to be late.

Having said that, he only counts- one, two, three, four- he recounts, once, twice, consolidating that it isn’t his drug addled mind telling him a fantasy but no, there are two people missing and upon further inspection-

Changkyun and Minhyuk.

If he hadn’t sensed the bad blood between them, Hyungwon would’ve dismissed it- ”They’re off for a fuck, good on them”- but this is Changkyun, distant, untouchable Changkyun and Minhyuk, compulsive, obsessive, -

Two halves of a wretched whole.

-and he can’t help but to feel worry in and amongst his deepening thoughts.

Shit I could do with a smoke right about now.

His stomach aches, hunger, hunger, but he bites it down, reaches his fingers towards his pockets and makes his way for the door.

So much for his good intentions.

The pack is half out of his pocket and he is half out of the door when he smells it, strong and smoky- fuck no, Minhyuk, it’s Minhyuk- but he looks up and it Changkyun so it’s fine, Kyun knows, it’s fine.

He takes a soft breath, blood pulsing through his head, in his ears, bang, bang, he smells like Minhyuk, why does he smell like- bang, bang, shaking fingers on the lighter, a flame in the darkness, what happened, what happened, what-, he steals a glance at the younger boy. Did he always look so pale? So slight? Why are his eyes ringed with red? Why, why does he smell like-

“It’s a bad habit, you know.”

Hyungwon blinks, pulled out of his manic. The cigarette is half to his lips and Changkyun is watching him, careful, impassive, and he wants to reply, of course I know, why else would I do it? but he just shrugs, puts it to his lips and takes a long drag.

“It keeps the weight off.” He says lightly, vaguely, a ghost of a smile upon his lips as Changkyun blinks, eyes widening and he almost wants to take his words back, don’t hang on everything I say, it’ll only make things worse.

Changkyun doesn’t comment, thankfully, and Hyungwon really does grin then, wide and easy. He sneaks a look at the younger and sighs very softly, exhaling a cloud of soft, grey smoke. The alpha thinks everyone is stupid. He thinks they don’t realise. The scent blockers and the medication and all those needles shoved to the bottom of the bin and he thinks no one will see them and that no one will care.

Maybe they just don’t want to acknowledge it. Maybe it’s easier not to ask questions.

Finally Changkyun turns to look at Hyungwon once again, eyes glittering in the low light.

“I’m tired, hyung.” Is all he says. Very quiet. Very soft. “I feel alone.”

Hyungwon feels the pain begin in the pit of his stomach because he knows what that feels like, a hollow ache which never seems to get filled and he’d hate for anyone else to feel it. He hates that Changkyun does.

“I’ll take care of you.” He says suddenly, standing up straighter, putting out his cigarette, facing the younger. “You don’t need to be alone.”

Changkyun smiles wryly. “It’s tireless work.” He says. “It’s annoying.”

“Not to me.” Hyungwon takes a step forwards, eyes wide, eager. “Not if it’s you.”

Changkyun does not like being touched.

It’s an analogy which he keeps to himself, he knows that it’s nonsensical, when he has six people who have their arms stretched out to him- touch, touch- but it is fear with reason, reason with logic.

He is cold all the time. The water in the shower is never hot enough, he uses mint as a salve for the wounds on his skin which still seem to drip red, but there are no salves for his aching soul. He survives without living. Lives without breathing.

The water is still not hot enough. His body, still, does not come clean.

+

Changkyun is sitting beside Jooheon.

They are running through their dance routine once again, late at night. Changkyun pretends it means nothing to him. It’s what he’s best at.

But it means something. To him, it means everything.

He remembers the first time he was used, fingers burying beneath his skin, bruises in the hollows of his bones, pain spreading like wildfire, burning anything he touches. They don’t understand how things like this stick to the crevices, they stay and they ache.

It doesn’t wash out.

It took him a time which felt like forever to stop hurting after the first time. He accidentally brushed against a stranger who looked back at him for a second too long. He cried about it for days. He smelled a cologne in the corners of a store which was just like that scent and he had almost been sick. He had lain awake at night, trying to convince himself that this body was still his.

It doesn’t wash out.

Eventually they grew tired of his agony, they took him to higher authorities, lightly, lightly (expect no justice) - he remembers them laughing in his face.

”You’re an omega male, darling. You were made to be used.”

The second time he was used, he didn’t cry quite so loud.

+

He must have fallen asleep.

He awakes with a light touch and he needs to bite his lip to not react, to not lash out as he opens his eyes and is met with soft hair and soft eyes (soft, soft)- he does not so mind soft, so long as they let him be cold.

But he knows. You are never cold enough to be safe; you are never safe enough to let your guard down.

“Manager hyung told me to wake you up.”

It is Minhyuk in his line of sight, all curves and smoothness. Changkyun doesn’t flinch away this time. He has endured more.

(He has also endured less. The fact that it is Minhyuk shouldn’t change anything but it does, it does.)

“Is practice over?”

The alpha nods, taking a light step back, folding his arms, defensive, defective~ Changkyun raises himself up slowly with a groan.

He aches.

Pain in his stomach, pain on his chest, hypersensitivity and it’s driving him insane, Minhyuk’s scent is louder, it buzzes throughout his senses and he craves, he wants.

Minhyuk looks strangely ethereal today, beautiful in a way which frightens Changkyun. He has always known that his omega instincts make him weak.

He hates being weak.

+

Fingers in his,( soft, soft.)

“Are you okay, baby?”

Hyungwon pulls him forwards and he is in a daze, pain, pain, dizzying pain.

Shaking. His fingers are shaking.

“What’s wrong with me?” His voice is far away, a whisper in the silence. Hyungwon turns to look at him, frowns, “You tell me.”

He doesn’t know, he doesn’t know, his clothes stick to him, and he is both hot and cold simultaneously, (what is pain but a punishment?), the buzzing in his mind only grows louder. He pulls on Hyungwon’s hand, (what is death but a mercy?) effectively stopping him.

“I’m not joking.” And Hyungwon smiles in brief confusion, places a tender hand upon Changkyun’s jaw and tilts it up for a light kiss.

“Of course you aren’t, Kyunnie.” He says. “You’re probably just sick. You feel feverish. Maybe it’s because of mating season?”

Mating season.

His heat. It must be.

(Deep, deep breaths.)

He does not allow himself to panic. Panic is for the weak. He refuses to be weak.

(Smile, smile. No one needs to know.)

When his lips stretch into a grin, his teeth are sharp and he is toxic.

Even your love is a damnation.

+

(Back to the dorms? Where are we going?)

He doesn’t even open his mouth to speak and yet and, as though his silent question hung in the air, he gets a soft reply.

“We still have to do heights and weigh -ins before we can go back, Kyun ah.”

He chances a look up and Minhyuk is watching him, weary, guarded, an innocent smile on his face, (dangerous, deadly) the car runs smooth over the road and Minhyuk’s gaze isn’t all cyanide and toxic, so he manages to grow comfortable with the feeling, learns not to flinch, learns not to overthink.

He misses the relief on the alphas face when he doesn’t flinch away from him and his scrutiny.

The smell in the car is musty with arousal, the scent of alpha, desperation, hunger, it almost makes him close in on himself, the very smell is a trigger to memories which he has buried so far within him that they hold his throat and make him choke. You are just a toy, you are a means to provide pleasure. You will never be worth anything outside the bedroom. You’re only useful when you’re being used.

He doesn’t realise when he starts shaking, when his fingers tremble and he can’t breathe, he is alone in his head- he can’t breathe- all on his own, he is a freak of nature omega male, monster, monster, his vision blurs (why can’t he just be fucking normal?), his breaths become shorter, faster, in out, faster, faster, the scent burns the inside of his throat- he can’t breathe- he needs to get out, he does not want this, the word no is in the tip of his tongue but he can’t choke it out because silence has been ingrained into him and even though he doesn’t want, he’s learned that his body is never his. He is a product of society and he will always be below their scrutinising gaze.

It happens suddenly, fingers on his arm, light, tentative, (yes, yes, hold me, hug me, kiss me, tell me I’m not as bad as they say, tell me that I’m good, tell me that you love me). He leans into the touch instinctively, eyes closed, breaths still shallow and uneven. The fingers are slowly replaced with a steady hand, arms wrapped around him, soothing, quiet humming, strong, strong.

A hand cups his cheek. There is a flurry of whispers but Changkyun can’t focus on anything apart from the fear, the acknowledgement that he is polluted, that he is wrong, that he can’t come clean.

His fist closes around loose material, holding on, and the arms around him tighten protectively, rubbing circles into his back (for the first time in forever he feels safe).

“We’re almost there.” Hyunwoo’s voice is the last thing he hears, somewhere in front of him, and before his eyes seem to roll back, before exhaustion seems to seep into the crevices and hollows of his body, Changkyun swears the fingers on him feel oddly familiar, the scent of the alpha is one of his nightmares- (Minhyuk, Minhyuk- alpha, monster).

He should be afraid, but all he feels is a sense of gratitude and relief and a closure he hasn’t felt in a long, long time.

+

”Kyunnie hyung!” Small hands, fingers all over him, (are you real? Are you really here?) “How did you get out? What happened to you? I haven’t seen you in so long!”

The boy he sees is not the boy he remembers. He wants to smile, he wants to say something but he can’t, the words get blocked in his throat, he doesn’t know how to act, he can’t remember what it means to be himself. He’s never known fear like this before, he thought he’d be safe when he got out, but the nightmares seemed to have escaped with him.

“Hyung? Hyung what happened to you? What’s wrong?”

He can’t speak, his words get stuck in his chest, claw their way up his throat until he retches, the burning is more than just fire, they could strike a match against him but he will not be a light in a lantern. He has always been too much and now all he can do is destroy.

He wants to release, he wants to say what happened to him but he can’t, he can’t, it’s too early- (it’s too late)- his words rot upon his tongue and wither before he can consider letting them live.

He knows what it means to be a tragedy.

+

One day he will let go of his grief. That day is not today.

“We have a meeting with the CEO after practise.”

It is only expected, Changkyun supposes, what, with their debut day drawing so near. The eyes of the members flicker up, all bright and glowing and edged with excitement. They are all starved and anticipating, desperate for the hollowness within them to be filled with the knowledge that their efforts have been worthwhile, that the tears and uncertainty’s have led to a satisfactory ending.

Changkyun lowers his gaze, bites his lip. He doesn’t want to see the CEO again, not after their last meeting. He is almost certain that he’ll be kept behind, the older man’s gaze filled with artificial sympathies as he expresses his condolences, and after Changkyun leaves he will check his calendar and count down the days left until his seven shining stars will be exposed to the world in full radiance. His eyes have always been cold and dark and predatory, teeth sharp and when Changkyun turns his back the older man will certainly sink his canines into his skin, coming away stained red with a smile on his face, all hurricanes and bitter cold and he will whisper in Changkyun's ear with the same greedy tone as everyone else, you are going to be the cause of your bandmates fame, and they are going to be the cause of your destruction.

The instinct to run away is a powerful one. He needs to grit his teeth, pinch the skin at his wrist hard enough to draw blood and watch the members eyes, wide and desperate and expecting, and only that is enough to make him stay- only that is enough to supress the impulse to leave, to hide, to remove ‘Im Changkyun’ from reality completely and construct a mask to wear which fits over his current self so seamlessly that the person presently known to the world could slip cleanly out of existence.

“What do you think he’s going to say to us?” Jooheon is asking, and Hyunwoo runs a hand through his hair as all members turn to him expectantly.

“He’s probably just going to congratulate us again. It’s nothing to worry about, he won’t keep us for long.”

It’s nothing to worry about. Changkyun closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, prays the words into existence. He had woken up this morning and thrown up, his fingers shake as he curls them into fists and there is a continuous and unending nausea curling within him, an almost psychotic disease that burrows into him. He has the word ‘sick’ carved into a medal around his neck, has the word ‘malleable’ ready on the tip of his tongue in case anyone who wants to love him forgets for even a second what he is. His heartbeat is an ache against his chest, all he can think is that he really must be sick, because sometimes he wishes he could just say it all, everything that happened to him, how he will never be anything other than a product of his past, how the hands which destroyed him were also the hands that made him. The CEO asks him sometimes, whether or not he has any shame at all and all he can do is laugh tonelessly in response.

There is a knock at the door and a member of staff enters, eyes glancing over the members before settling on Changkyun.

“Changkyun-ssi. Apologies for the intrusion, but the CEO would like to have a word with you before the meeting.”

The members watch him as he stands up and the nauseous feeling only seems to intensify, he swallows hard only to leave a bitter, acrid taste at the back of his throat. He moves to the door, his heartbeat loud in his ears and his head spins dizzyingly as he reaches out for the wall in support.

“Why does the CEO only ever want to see him? Don’t you think it’s a bit weird hyung… he keeps saying the rumours aren’t true but he isn’t giving anyone any reason to believe him!” Someone says in a hushed voice and the reply is almost a betrayal, the crescendo to the soundtrack of his defeat. “I mean, what’s worse is that he’s so against doing anything with us. Aren’t we meant to be a pack? I don’t mind if he doesn’t want to, but if he’s fine with selling himself out to the CEO then why is he so repulsed by us? Or maybe he just wants to win his favour- I guess it really is possible to fuck your way to the top.”

Those are his band members, his packmates, voicing their uncertainties about his loyalty and he can’t even find it within himself to argue back. He can do all but lower his head, leave the room quietly as tears burn behind his eyes. He knows that there is an unfathomable disaster coming, he can feel the hurricanes of dread sweep in, roiling in his stomach. Even if he gauged it out, stuck both hands down his throat and ripped the feeling out raw and unripe he knows that he would be unable to bleach himself clean of it, the tension in his shoulders has been a weight which he has been forced to carry for years. This ache is not a new one, but it stings as though it is fresh, throbs whenever anyone pokes at it, dares to look at him for too long, it is tender and infected and spreading like a poison. Unless he finds an antidote, he will surely die from it.

He follows the staff out to the CEO’s office. He knows that he has emerged, a product of No Mercy, but here, right now, even the mercy of death would be enough.

+

“Tell me, Changkyun-ssi. What makes an idol?”

What makes an idol? Surely this should be obvious- talent, dedication, commitment- a record that is clean and unscathed, a face which is soft and doused in holiness, innocence reigned down from the skies and a voice which is so light that it is angelic, people dream of the melodies sang from that haunting tongue and have no choice but to search deeper, find out more about those startling eyes and gentle smiles. Charm makes an idol, a voice which does not fear or hinder beneath pressure, a smile which is easy and doesn’t waver, regardless of the direness of the situation.

Qualities none of which he possesses.

“I think… hard work and untiring dedication makes an idol.” Changkyun says eventually, eyes pointing fixedly at the hands in his lap. To voice his own opinions… even now it makes him hesitate, fearful, especially around those who know what he is.

The CEO laughs at him, it is mocking and depreciating, almost manic and Changkyun dares a glance up to see the older man shaking his head, eyes cold, dark and lethal as he leans forwards.

“Ah Changkyun-ssi… Changkyun-ssi, you truly are naïve.” He says, pressing two fingers beneath the younger boy’s chin, forcing his gaze to be met. “Or is it just that you're stupid? It is true that for an omega you are adequately intelligent, but I suppose that an exception has its bounds. Hard work and dedication? Changkyun-ah these are idols, not business men! Do you want to know what truly makes an idol?”

In truth he does not care in the slightest, whatever it is, he could not possibly possess those assets. The CEO must see it in his eyes because the hand touching his face tightens almost imperceptibly, but it enough to raise the taste of panic to the back of his throat which prompts him to swiftly answer in spite of his apathy.

“Y-yes, sunbaenim. Tell me.”

The mans smile is wicked and when he grins, he has a mouth filled with sharp, sharp teeth.

“What makes an idol.” He says, voice a quiet thrum in the otherwise bleak room. “Are scandals.”

It hits him suddenly, a palm to the chest pushing him back, the metallic taste of blood in his mouth and the air is almost plucked straight from his lungs. The voice of a zither replaces his tongue and all his words come out in sorrowful melodies of bittersweet musings, all his songs drip red and smell of copper and brass and his fingers shake and come up golden, honey sweet but burning. Like the spring water which cleanses him of the brand obscene which is etched over his heart, he too becomes transparent and washes away.

“Not what you were expecting?” The CEO’s voice is taunting and Changkyun blinks up, clutching his chest where his heart beats furiously, breaths laboured as they leave his lips. “You see it now, don’t you, Changkyun? Why you are so important to me, to this project. After we introduced you in No Mercy… we had anticipated that you would experience some degree of resentment by the other trainees. Perhaps not as much as you did but nevertheless, your exposure was exactly what we needed to raise our viewer ratings. Of course, a vast amount of the viewers were furious, couldn’t believe what had been done and it was vital that the members explicitly expressed their dislike towards you, even if it was somewhat… amplified. But it all contributed to a satisfactory finish. All that had to be done in the end was ensure that you made it through to the final cut. It would be a knife in the members back. The icing on the cake, if you will.”

Changkyun freezes. The words register slowly but when they do- when they do, he could be sick. Was it possible, after all this time, that the rumours had been true, had he really been given privileges, had he, in the end, truly been as rotten as everyone says he is? He jerks out of the mans hold and leans back, eyes widening as it suddenly makes sense. He feels like a dog whose teeth have been ripped out- he wants to be cruel and bitter and unforgiving, but he can’t. He is weak and afraid. Had he really been given an unfair advantage? Of course, of course it would be this way, how could he have even thought for a second that he was worth anything, that he could actually gain something out of his own efforts? In the end everyone had been right about him. His resentment is eating him from the inside out and he is rotting.

“Of course, I got lucky that you were adequate in your talents, decent at dancing and rapping, I had some hopes that you would be able to get through even without my persuading. But just in case… I made sure to put in a good word for you. Yes, you were good, but I didn’t want to take my chances, I needed to ensure that you were good enough.”

His breaths are so very light, his doesn’t dare look up, doesn’t dare speak as the man talks in that goading tone, doesn’t dare breathe too loud for fear that he may miss a word. Tears burn behind his eyes, all laced red and filled with fire, a colossal sickness that reigns supreme and he tries not to show just how violently he is shaking.

“And so it happened, you got through to the final cut and usually that would be it, you would be safe and fearless and preparing for your debut- but that didn’t happen, did it? No, because not long after, the first wave of rumours started. Harmless at first, of course, barely a whisper. But like all rumours, they have spread and grown and even managed to plant the seed of doubt within the minds of your dear band members. But tell me, Changkyun-ah. You must have wondered where such a rumour began and how it multiplied at such an alarming rate. After all, every rumour must start somewhere.”

The blows only seem to be coming faster and sharper and lower and he exhales slowly, bites his lip as he looks up once again at the man who is doing all but trying to keep the gleeful smile off his horrendous expression. All he can think is why, why me, why is it always the skin upon my back which gets torn to pieces? But he knows the answer, I was easy, I was too easy.

“That’s right.” The CEO says, his eyes look dark and cold and he looks like a snake watching him incessantly with no regards as to how his words are destroying him. “It was us. Who else could it be? Word spreads so fast in a company like this, and even faster when it leaves the doors. Tell me, Changkyun. Did you really expect anything different? Of course, at the end of the day the rumours are just harmless, will barely taint your reputation- but its good for publicity isn’t it? After all, any publicity is good publicity, especially so early in your career. If anything, you're being a huge help. Does it make sense to you now?”

He doesn’t think these people understand. Pain is all he has ever known- yes it hurts, but he doesn’t know who he is without the bruises and the blood and the teeth marks, doesn’t know if he is anything without them at all. What would he do if he was given affection, soft touches and tender kisses? He doesn’t know, he doesn’t know, he thinks it would destroy him. All he wants is a hand around his neck and an angry voice because its so much easier when the people who want to hurt him just hurt him and get it over and done with. He hates these words dripping in sugar and sweetness. He can’t let his guard down around these people, not even for a second, because he doesn’t know when they’ll bare their sabre sharp teeth and impale him.

The CEO curls a hand around his wrists, takes the younger boy’s hands into his own and watches him carefully. “Here’s the thing, Changkyun.” He says, sounding sympathetic but with a laughing face. “Eventually these rumours will die down. I can’t risk them dying down too quickly because it’ll just put the group back in the dark. So there is only one thing that I can do and that is to instigate a scandal.”

Instigate a scandal? Changkyun could laugh mirthlessly at those words- what CEO wants to bring disgrace to their idols?

But it makes sense. Changkyun can’t help but think. Humiliation draws people like flies. They thrive off of the misfortune of others, think its some kind of game. Oh, yes, its so fun running all the time, the word ‘obscene’ a brand across his forehead, how could anyone ignore it? He keeps it unhidden and accentuated in case anyone dares to make the mistake of loving him, in case anyone forgets what he is for even a second and he knows that if he keeps going like this, he’ll distance anyone who’s still rooting for him. Does he care? Isn’t it like what the CEO said? He can keep everyone at a distance and still help them, who cares about what it costs him? It isn’t like anyone will have to pay but him.

“You want me to be the victim of a scandal.” Is all he can say expressionlessly, his voice is thick and shrouded in misery and the old wounds on his body throb dully.

The CEO pats his hand softly, thoughtfully. “Well, now that you’ve offered how can I possibly say no?” He says as though Changkyun would have actually ever had a choice. “You and I both know that there are currently two things which you have, held tight in your fist that you would hate for anyone to know, yes? So, which of them would you be willing to part with?”

Wait, what? No, this isn’t part of what was meant to happen. This isn’t what he agreed to.

“You never said.” He begins, his voice all gasping breaths and desperation as he tears his hand from the older man’s grasp, eyes wide with indignation. “Neither of those, I don’t want anyone to know either! You said… you said that no one would have to know… you told me… you said it yourself!”

His breaths are sharp and unsteady and ripping from between his lips in blind panic because no, he would be okay with anything, anything but this.

“You're being ungrateful again, Changkyun.” The CEO tuts. “I can do whatever I want. Do you think that you can tell me what to do? I am giving you an opportunity to increase the fame and exposure of your group- do you know how much this would mean to them? Are you that selfish?”

Are you that selfish?

Changkyun can’t breathe. His mind is working frantically, between the two, which would hurt the least to let go? The fact that he is an omega, an admittance that he is no more than a prostitute, lower than the lowest in society, dirty and disgusting and not someone fit to be an idol- or… or the other? Hands on him, in him, all over him, a pain so raw and so profound that it rips a noise from his lips that he only hears again in his most horrific nightmares, a voice deep and husky and terrifying whispering in his ear, a breath on his neck, the smell of a cologne that he will never forget, “Run as fast as you like, we will only need one opportunity to catch you.”

“Please.” He can only beg. “Please.”

The CEO’s lip curls. “You'll have to try harder than that, Changkyun-ah. How about you get on your knees? After all, this is a huge chance that you are taking away from the members who have done nothing wrong.”

That’s right, everything is his fault as always. He doesn’t protest, drops to his knees in a single motion and bows his head. His body feels too cold, shirt clinging to him with sweat and he shivers slightly, breaths uneven and jarred.

His heat is drawing so close that it is dizzying, he has to be alert and ready because he knows that it could fall upon him at any time without warning. When it does, he will have to, somehow, hide it. When it does, there will be no chance of escape, no prospect of running. Like a vice it will cling to him and be what drags him behind.

“Well then? Are you waiting for something?”

He kneels down into a bow, ignoring the scream of his body, the roar of pain as he does so. His head touches the floor and when he speaks his words shake in betrayal, tears falling from his eyes and pooling upon the cold marble.

“Please, sunbaenim.” He gasps. “I am wrong to be asking for such liberties, especially when I am so undeserving; especially when I have no right to. But please, please take it into consideration that no one will want me to remain in the group after either of these things become known! It will be the first and last time I will be able to help you- I wouldn’t wish to subject this upon any of the other members!  I will accept anything else you ask of me and I will do so unquestioningly! Please, sunbaenim! Please…!”

“Ah, shut up.” The older man kicks his shoulder mercilessly sending a wave of pain through the area and he groans as he is ordered to his feet. “For now, I will consider the course of action which I should take.” He glances at the clock on his desk and sighs. “Sit down, Changkyun-ssi. The other members will be here shortly. Compose yourself.”

Sure enough, hardly moments later there a knock at the door and before he allows them in, the older man beckons forwards.

“I didn’t want to tell you this, but I think it is in your interest to know.” He says and then, with a glint of razor-sharp teeth and in a matter of seconds, Changkyun feels all the closure, anything which he has created or earned, crumble to dust.

“They have sent me the pictures.”

+

Minhyuk enters office with the other members, casting a gaze to the maknae who is sitting still and straight in his seat. He doesn’t turn to greet them as they sit down, and the alpha recognises the tension in his shoulders, recognises the way his head is bowed slightly in something reminiscent of defeat and he takes a seat beside him, brows furrowed in concern. He knows that the situation between the two of them currently is still far from ideal, but surely they have moved past the event which had occurred during his last rut- after all, Changkyun had said it himself that he wasn’t angry at Minhyuk and shouldn’t that have been as good as a forgiveness?

He inclines his head slightly after greeting the CEO, fixing his gaze upon the younger boy and he feels something uncomfortable curl within his chest.

Changkyun has been crying. The red around is eyes is visible and pronounced, gaping and unmissable and Minhyuk can hardly conceal his surprise as he glances at the CEO in a blatant accusation. What could possibly have happened in the half an hour Changkyun had been gone which had been dire enough to reduce him to tears? The CEO begins talking and as much as he knows that he should be giving him his full and undivided attention, Minhyuk can not force his eyes away from the younger boy who doesn’t once look up or even acknowledge their presence, hands curled into white knuckled fists in his lap, body trembling lightly as his shoulders slump forwards. He looks pitiful, the image of sorrow and Minhyuk isn’t sure why he does it, doesn’t know what possesses him but he reaches out a tentative hand and places it over the younger boys clasped fists.

Changkyun’s eyes snap up. They are wide and bloodshot and fever bright, pupils blown up almost unnaturally, a flush high on his cheeks and Minhyuk is struck in a brief moment of disbelief because Changkyun really looks sick, and not in an under the weather type of way, no, he looks as though there is something wrong- tired, bruises around his eyes and an unnatural paleness to his skin, his clothes are loose and he looks weak, both flushed and freezing and it is unnerving, concerning. Minhyuk squeezes his fist lightly, smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring way. The younger boy doesn’t reciprocate the sentiment, but nor does he shrug off Minhyuk's attempts at comfort and the alpha considers that to be something of some degree of significance. He knows that Changkyun had heard the conversation between Hoseok and Kihyun earlier, and while the two of them had been reprimanded, the damage had been done. Changkyun's shoulders had come up in protection, eyes averting and Minhyuk had felt as bad as he would have if the words had come out of his own mouth.

“You're all talented individuals.” The CEO is saying. “You’ve put in a lot of effort which should, in turn, give you back a lot of success. All I can tell you is that now is no time to slacken off. Your debut is drawing close, I want all seven of you to be attentive and put in work which is fruitful. The end will definitely be worth it.”

Hyunwoo asks a question and as the CEO makes to answer it, Minhyuk swears that his eyes linger on the boy beside him almost unnervingly, eyes glinting with an almost manic edge but surely, surely, he must be imagining it.

“Ah yes.” The man says. “Before I can forget. I am going to impose a four-year dating ban upon you. You have mentioned previously that you aim to become a pack, but until you have all mated, I can only ask of you to keep any affections to a suitable level while on camera or in public. If, at any point, any one of you for whatever reason seek a relationship outside the group then please, for the sake of everyone, do it remotely.”

Seek a relationship outside the group? Surely this wouldn’t be something anyone would consider? He casts his gaze to the other members, but they are listening attentively, faces impassive and he chews his lip, ands directs his attention back to the CEO’s words.

“I’m also going to ban excessive consumption of alcohol. I know certain members have a history with smoking or drugs and other things as such but I'm urging that you exercise caution. You're all still early in your career, you wouldn’t want to taint your name. You are all adults; you should be aware of how the media like to sensationalise topics such as these. After all it would be…” He pauses and this time he definitely is not imagining how the man’s eyes fix upon Changkyun. “… unfortunate if a scandal were to happen.”

Changkyun flinches, breaths coming out of his body in a sharp gasp and Minhyuk sits up straighter, mouth opening in indignation. A hand comes around arm and he turns to see Hyungwon who shakes his head, I saw what you saw but for the sake of everyone just stay quiet.

He doesn’t like it but he doesn’t protest. The CEO says a few more words of little significance before bidding them leave and Minhyuk stands up quickly, holding Changkyun’s hand tightly and pulling him along in a desperation to leave. The members go to collect their belongings but Minhyuk leads Changkyun into an empty room, locking the door behind them as he runs a hand through his hair, collecting his thoughts and contemplating how to voice his concerns. When he turns around to face the other alpha, Changkyun is watching him carefully, guarded, and before he can say a word, hands close around his wrist in desperation.

“Hyung.” He says. His voice is small and trembling and Minhyuk feels a throb pulse through his chest. “I know what you all think but I haven’t… I'm not…” He looks away, clearly struggling. “Hyung I would never…”

Minhyuk cups his cheek, forcing the younger boy to look at him as he tenderly traces the line of his face, frowning in confusion. “Kyun-ah.” He says softly. “What are you trying to say?”

Changkyun leans into the touch slightly, inhaling slowly, biting his lip. He searches Minhyuk’s face and the alpha tries his hardest to keep his expression open and accepting, tries to stop any hints of doubt from creeping in as he clutches the younger boy urgently, carefully. He needs Changkyun to know that he is here and he is willing to be a source of confidence. I'm here if you're alone or you need someone or if you need to talk. I know that I have done upon you something unforgiveable, so let me make up for it. Right now, beneath these studio lights, I can assure you that you have never looked as beautiful as you do when you are happy. Let me take you into my arms, I always feel most at rest when I know that you are safe.

“Changkyun-ah.” He says and Changkyun nods slightly, swallows hard.

“Hyung.” He starts again weakly. “I would never… I would never do anything with the CEO. I wouldn’t, I promise you, I… I'm not like that… I know what the rumours say hyung but you have to believe me I promise you they aren’t true; I’d choose you guys… I’d choose you over him in a second, you know that right? I just- “

“Kyun-ah.” Minhyuk interrupts. He feels rage growing within him and he doesn’t know where it’s coming from. He tries to even out his words so that they don’t shake, so that they don’t reflect the inexplicable anger which is slowly dripping into his calm and collected state of mind. “Kyunnie why… why would you say something like that?”

Changkyun lowers his gaze and Minhyuk decides the he hates the action; hates how self-depreciating it is. How can he explain it? Confidence looks beautiful on him, Changkyun glows on stage, bright and fierce and powerful and its so attractive that Minhyuk finds himself breathless. He isn’t surprised that Changkyun made it through to the final cut, his stage presence is breath taking, all fire and sharpness and charm which is almost lethal. Of course everyone would love him, dimpled smiles and a quiet voice, there’s no questioning why all the members were taken in by him. Doesn’t he understand? He is radiant, the members climb over themselves to shower him in affection, to voice their concerns, surely, he must see it himself?

His next words come all doused in agony and all Minhyuk can think is no, Changkyun can not see past his own self-hatred.

“I understand that I can’t give you all what you want.” Changkyun says and his voice comes out thick and heavy. “I know that. But when… when everyone thinks that I would deny them but then please others for my own benefit… it doesn’t feel good. It hurts because its not true and if you… if any of you want me to prove it to you then I’ll do it, I’ll do it with you if you really want me to.”

He feels sick. He can’t even explain it, the dismay washes over him, cleanses him of sin and all other things unholy. He'd known that Changkyun must be affected by the rumours but he hadn’t known how bad, hadn’t expected it to be like this. He has to stop himself from physically recoiling, Changkyun lets go of him for a moment to wipe a tear from his eyes and Minhyuk feels the dam break.

“Changkyun.” He says and he knows that his voice shakes, know that the emotion is spilling into his tones but he needs Changkyun to know that he’s being sincere. “Changkyun-ah, listen to me.” He takes a breath, touches the other boy’s waist tentatively, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “Listen to me. I will say this as many times as you need to be told. We don’t expect anything from you.  You need to understand that. Even if you told us that you don’t want to be a pack with us- we would never get angry or stop talking to you- we wouldn’t shout, hell we wouldn’t even ask why if you didn’t want us to. Do you want to know why? Because you don’t owe anyone an explanation. You don’t need to explain why you don’t want to sleep with us if you don’t want to, why you wouldn’t want to mate with us if you didn’t want to. You don’t need to do anything you don’t want to, okay?”

Changkyun looks at him and Minhyuk can see the conflict behind his eyes and he hates that the younger boy would doubt his words for even a second.

“And as for the rumours- Kihyunnie and Hoseok-hyung spoke out of line today and I'm sure they're going to apologise later. You’ve told us before that it isn’t true and we have no reason to doubt you. But Changkyunnie. What I'm about to say it’s… it’s really important okay? I need to listen carefully and if there’s something you don’t understand then you need to ask.”

Changkyun only hesitates for a moment before nodding and Minhyuk takes a breath. What he’s about to say he needs Changkyun to understand and accept it. His view on sex seems to be unbearably warped and he desperately wants the younger boy to know that whatever he thinks isn’t all true.

“Changkyun.” He starts carefully, knowing that the subject is delicate and he needs to find the right words to convey what he wants to say. “When you said that you would show us if we really want us to… imagine that if, for the sake of explanation, one of us really wanted you to sleep with you, even if you didn’t want to. If someone was insisting, even though you didn’t feel comfortable. What would you say?”

Minhyuk watches carefully as the question runs through his mind. It is clear that it has thrown him, he eyes Minhyuk warily as he contemplates and all Minhyuk can think with pain is why do you need to think about it? The answer should be so obvious Kyun-ah. But he doesn’t reprimand him, doesn’t speak, gives the boy time to consider despite the growing ache spreading out slowly from the centre of his chest. Things are worse than he had thought, than any if them had thought. He can’t even call this pity because it is not, it is ripping rounds within him and he wants to keel over and be sick, punch the wall behind him so that he can feel something other than this inexplicable hollowness that has begun to replace the rage.

“I’d probably…” Changkyun's voice is hesitant. “I’d probably agree if… if they really wanted to.”

Minhyuk stares dismayed. “Even if you don’t want to?”

Changkyun shifts uncomfortably. “I mean I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t deny them, should I?”

The rage is back. Hot on his back and cold at his chest, he just feels so angry, the feeling buries itself into his body, finds a home in the crevices of his bones and crawls up to his throat choking him until he can't see anything but red, until he can't see anything past is own fury because this should not be allowed and when he finds the person that spat out these lies he will cut out their tongue and gauge their eyes. He has no mercy left to spare them.

Changkyun’s eyes on him are worried, seeking confirmation searching for some decipherable emotion and Minhyuk gently steers him to sit down on a bench, takes the smaller boy into his arms and speaks slowly so that he doesn’t miss a word.

“If you don’t want to have sex.” Minhyuk says, abandoning all euphemisms. If he is going to talk about this then he cannot shy away from the subject. “Then, regardless of what anyone says to you, no matter how much they beg you, you should tell them no. it doesn’t matter who they are to you, whether it is a stranger, a friend or a lover. No means no. You have a right to refuse. You don’t owe anyone anything and if anyone makes you feel anything otherwise then they are not worth your time. Okay? If you don’t feel comfortable in a situation then you are under no obligation to carry through. The word no should be enough because it sets boundaries.”

Changkyun is watching him intensely and Minhyuk has to swallow hard before speaking next because what he has already said is important but what he hasn’t said yet is even more important. He’s afraid for a moment that he might say something wrong, that it won’t come out right, that he won’t be good enough at explaining but no, it’s now or never. He won’t have the courage to this again out of his own will.

“Changkyun-ah.” Minhyuk starts slowly. “If… if there comes a situation with any of us or with anyone else and you say no and they continue, if they force it upon you then that’s… that’s rape. You know that, right?”

Changkyun flinches. His gaze snaps back down and oh, he’s doing it again, retreating somewhere in his mind where he is unreachable and Minhyuk’s heart is loud and gaping in his chest. The seconds drag on excruciatingly as Minhyuk does nothing but watch the younger boy, watches how his lips form words which he can not hear, words to himself, how his breaths are shallow and how his grip on Minhyuk is almost painfully tight as he doesn’t dare meet his gaze. The alpha waits patiently, doesn’t push him or question him, doesn’t force him to speak or respond but as the clock ticks on Minhyuk can feel the nausea clawing up his throat once again. He knows that the subject is sensitive but he truly hadn’t anticipated this reaction and waiting is almost painful, sickening. Finally, after the hollow silence Changkyun looks up.

“What if.” He begins, and his voice is steadier than Minhyuk had expected. “What if, for example, there was an omega. An alpha wants sex and the omega says no. The alpha still does what he likes because he’s an alpha and he has a right to do whatever he likes because omegas are just prostitutes and they don’t really count as people anyway. Does it still count as rape?”

And at that, Minhyuk feels himself still. The situation proposed sounds far too specific to be just a random scenario. Had Changkyun…? But no, he doesn’t seem like the type to rape someone surely, not with his reluctance towards anything even remotely sexual- and yet his views on omegas are so demeaning. Just by looking at the other boy’s expression he can't determine whether this view is purely personal or whether it has been imposed by another. He frowns.

“Kyun-ah. Omegas are human beings. If anyone, even an omega, says no then no matter what, it is rape. Alphas are not gods. They don’t have any right to omegas bodies. Anyone who says that is wrong, okay? It isn’t a good thought to have.”

“But what if the omega cums? Doesn’t that mean he enjoyed it? Is it still rape?”

Minhyuk pinches the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t know what to make of these questions but Changkyun is asking and he can't exactly deny him the right to an answer even if the question sounds bizarre.

“Yes, Changkyun. Even if the omega cums, it is still rape if they said no.”

“What if he was drunk and asked for it then but then after wards, he regretted it. Then what?”

Minhyuk frowns, sitting back to look Changkyun properly in the eye. “Kyun-ah.” He says uneasily. “Have you… have you ever been…?”

Changkyun's eyes widen immediately as though he only just realises his words and he shakes his head quickly, “No hyung, no! No, no I've never… I'm not like that! No one has ever done that to me I promise! It’s just… it happened to someone I know and now the situation came up so I asked! You believe me don’t you hyung?” He grips Minhyuk’s hands desperately, clinging to him as though only days ago he hadn’t been keeping a sure and steady distance, expression pleading. Minhyuk is lying if he says that he is truly convinced but he wants to believe him, he doesn’t want to entertain the possibility that there might actually be something wrong and so because it is easy and because he is weak, he accepts Changkyun's words.

“If someone is drunk.” He says. “Then they can not give consent. A drunken yes is not a yes. It is rape.” Changkyun considers this for a moment

“One last question.” He says. “If it keeps happening. Rape. Then isn’t it the persons fault for getting themselves into the situation in the first place?”

Minhyuk sighs, shakes his head resigned. “Changkyun listen to me. It doesn’t matter how many times it happens; rape is rape. It is not the victim’s fault; it is the fault of the rapist. There is never any excuse for raping someone. We really have to get going now. Hyunwoo-hyung is probably wondering where we’ve gone.”

When they stand up, hand in hand, Minhyuk knows that his should feel accomplished. Things between him and Changkyun seem stable for the time being and he gave Changkyun the talk, answered his question to the best of his ability and exercised patience, even through his fuming rage.

But then why? Why does he feel so hollow?

Minhyuk and Changkyun arrive at the dorm after everyone has already settled down, sitting back and mulling in the satisfaction of knowing that their efforts have been well rewarded and soon they will be given compensation for all the debt that life has to owe them. Changkyun’s greeting is a small thing of little substance, eyes barely glancing over the members and Minhyuk doesn't even bother with a smile after he crosses over the threshold, flipping the members off with a casual wave before stepping into the laundry room to complete his dorm responsibilities.

Hyungwon tries not to think too much.

It’s easier said than done. He doesn't know how many of the other members had seen it, noticed the CEO’s eyes wandering to Changkyun, his gaze all dark and shrouded with a predatory lust, a rapacious glint of teeth, all torn up and dirtied down- all Hyungwon knows is that it had made him sick. He knows that Minhyuk had noticed it and reacted with a vehemence which had brewed within his own self, a sensation so old and so bereft of anything that he has ever felt before that it had worked its way into his throat, spreading like a plague and sticking like a parasite and he hadn’t realised that he couldn’t breathe until he was gasping for air and choking on the horror of what he knew was buried inside him. If Minhyuk hadn’t led Changkyun away, eyes soft and filled with a benign transparency, Hyungwon would have done it himself.

He knows, objectively that half of the man’s words were of some significance to him. Try as he might, he had nothing to hide behind when the CEO had talked about the smoking, the drugs, he can close his eyes all he likes, just because he can't see the accusing glares burning into him doesn't mean they don’t exist. Does that really matter? If no one notices the pointed looks, turns a blind eye, if everyone were to pretend that what they are seeing isn’t all there is then surely, surely the CEO’s heavy gaze would be pointless. A hushed whisper, brief eye contact, a mouth full of lies. If he has a raft to hold himself up on, no one needs to know about the weights attached to his leg, the hand that draws him deeper into the ocean of despair. He’s no Changkyun when it comes to lying, but maybe he comes close enough that he is safe for now.

And besides. The man can turn his palms inwards to hide all the blood, close his mouth to hide those sharp teeth and speak lightly to hide the noises which come from his throat that sound so inhuman that it would leave Hyungwon restless and unable to sleep for months after, that won’t change how his eyes looked when he turned to Changkyun, all starved and raw and monstrous. It won’t change the fact that Changkyun had flinched so violently at his words, won’t erase the image of the younger boys white knuckled fists or dark ringed eyelids, won’t stop him screaming out in his sleep, clutching and gasping and begging. Even if a god were to come down from the heavens and grant the CEO redemption for that knowing look that seems to be breaking the younger alpha, he will still need to grovel in the dirt and beg Hyungwon for forgiveness if he expects any mercy.

Hyungwon rages, a silhouette in the dying light. He would blow a lungful of smoke straight into the CEO’s unsuspecting face, live stream himself snorting up lines of cocaine or rolling out a joint, destroy any Is and all opportunities for even a glint of success if it means that the CEO never looks at Changkyun like that- undressing him, stripping him down with just his eyes- ever again.

Hyungwon leans back, massaging a point at his temple with a pained sigh. He is nervous, restless, he gets uneasy like this when he goes a day too long with a clean bloodstream, he’s absolved any chances of laying low and quitting the drugs, he knows it would be impossible, a dependency like this which he has nurtured and loved and watched flourish beneath his feet has become far too strong for him to pull out with his own two hands. It would be like trying to pull a tree from the ground, the roots are too strong, imbedded too deeply within him. They had found an empty place somewhere within the fabric of his body and decided to make a home. He doesn't even know who he would be without it, without this dangerous addiction, it has become a part of him, the craving and the edge gives him a refined type of clarity that he would never be able to obtain without it.

It’s strange. Sometimes he can't help but to think to hell with the consequences whilst he’s standing outside, the cool night air on his face, but that’s usually when he’s so high that his primal urges knock on the door and he only lets them in because he’s so tired of all the noise they make (it’s either that or they get up and leave, Hyungwon usually waits it out, sees between them who will get sick of waiting first).

To hell with the consequences. It’s a nice thought, but like so many others there’s a but.

But what consequences?

Fuck. He thinks. Does he need to make a list? There is a consequence for everything, and he knows that if he tears those up (disgrace, a scandal. Shame upon his members, shame upon himself, the CEO’s eyes on him, I told you so with that malign smile and Changkyun’s desperate gaze, hands which clutch and won’t let go, you told me you would help me, that I could trust you, that you would stand beside me, hyung, did you lie?) if he tears them up and throws them into hell then there is no doubt, he will have nothing to do but to follow. Considering the consequences of his actions, of his habits, has never been an option. He has never had a choice. Everything he has done has been done out of obligation.

He can't help it now, like a knee jerk reaction his hands have begun to shake and he stuffs them inside his pockets before the other members see. Hyunwoo’s fingers run up and down his leg soothingly, soft and comforting waves of calm emitting off of him and Hyungwon appreciates the gesture but there is no calming an addict’s drug addled impulses.

As if to add fuel to the fumes of his smoking vessel, Minhyuk emerges from the laundry room and his scent festers. It is almost repulsive, something sickeningly rotting and the alphas eyes briefly scan the room before fixing on Hyungwon, something indiscernible flashing behind them before he speaks up.

“Hyungwon-ah.” He calls. “Can I have a minute?”

Before he even realises what he’s doing, Hyungwon has stood to his feet and is walking towards him and it only takes him a moment more to realise that Minhyuk has used his alpha voice, whether consciously or not it had enough effect on Hyungwon’s beta senses that he complied, almost dropping to his knees in a pathetic display of submission. He catches himself in time before he makes a fool of himself as he enters the room Minhyuk had been in, but the way the alpha closes the door behind them both and waits a moment before turning around has Hyungwon on the tips of his toes and ready to spring forth in defence.

He isn’t oblivious. He knows that there is something very wrong but he can't even begin to fathom it, not even as Minhyuk turns around, eyes edged in a fierce crimson, all flames and fury as his teeth sharpen into points and his wolf growls, unrestrained and feral for a whole moment before the alpha reigns it in, takes a deep breath and suddenly Hyungwon feels very, very sick. He has no basic, minimalistic way to express or even endure these emotions, the only way he can even begin to decipher them is through a tacky and excessive train of thought, the concept of opulence, he is all wrung out, held taut between the fingers and waiting in a bated breath, dizzyingly anticipating type of way. He wants to cower, wants to shrink back, the clarity given to him in the first stages of withdrawal only heightens his fight or flight and right now he wants to run.

But he stays. He endures, he waits. He withers.

Finally, finally Minhyuk speaks, but what he says, what he says is not something Hyungwon wants to hear. He would rather spend a lifetime strung out like an elastic band, forever on edge with the knowledge of the snap that will cause him a pain so excruciating that it is blinding- than experience the snap itself.

“Hyungwon-ah.” Minhyuk says. “What’s this?”

There is a transparent packet in his hand, as large as a palm and half full of a white powdery substance. There is only one thing it could be. Even a child would know- it couldn’t be anything else.

Hyungwon almost visibly recoils. His hands only shake harder. It is painful not to drop to his knees, lower his head and whisper in a pathetically feeble, desperate voice, I'm sorry alpha, I'm sorry, please, please forgive me. He is not above begging, not quite yet with his lifeline held so jarringly between two slender fingers, but he won’t beg, he can't. He is his only defendant. If he submits now there will be no one to fight his case, he has no one here but himself and this pitiful dependency that makes him look so weak, a pressure point which is too easy to hone in on and hold down until he is screaming, aching for release. He has no choice, but to stand his ground.

“What does it look like?” Hyungwon says roughly a careless choice of words but at least his voice doesn't shake, doesn't betray him in the same way his body is, limbs feeling languid, hands still shaking wretchedly. He has never known a fear like this.

“You told us months ago that you stopped.” Minhyuk whispers. “You said that it was only smoking.”

Hyungwon smiles blithely. “What do you want me to say, Minhyuk-ah? That I lied? Isn’t it obvious that I lied to you? You're holding the pack in your hand yourself; does it look like a cigarette to you?”

Minhyuk’s eyes flash again but he doesn't rage forth in an inconsolable mania, rather he lowers his hand and looks at Hyungwon with a strangely intimate intensity, head tilted slightly, an urgency behind his eyes.

“Hyungwon-ah. You know that this is only hurting you.”

Hyungwon could laugh. Why else would he do something like this? He certainly isn’t trying to apply the addiction as though it is a salve, as though it will heal his problems. Isn’t the point of it to hurt? The pain makes him feel alive. Who would he be without it?

“It’s not hurting you, so I don’t see the problem.”

There is a definite underlying tension in the air, both of them are eying each other up with bated breaths, waiting for the other to break down and release the sea of emotion first. Hyungwon takes a deep and steady breath. Whoever raises their voice first, it certainly won’t be him.

“I don’t think you're seeing the point, Hyungwon-ah. This is… it’s so dangerous. You need help-”

“I know you just want shout at me, Minhyuk-ah.” Hyungwon interrupts, finally having had enough. “And by all means go ahead. Use your alpha voice and chew me out, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before. If you're lucky I might even get off on it, but I'm definitely not going to give a shit. You should hear yourself, trying to convince me that I'm sick.”

Minhyuk’s eyes are wide and obscure, revealing nothing of what he feels. Hyungwon can feel the fear clawing within him, writhing in his gut like a parasite and clinging to his insides, staying and rotting, decaying his body that he lives within whilst keeping one foot firmly in his grave. He feels a sting of tears at the back of the eyes and he tries to blink them away, he is so afraid, so desperate for Minhyuk to understand that it physically pains him. But how could he ever expect him to actually understand? Addiction is like a knife in the back, it leaves a gaping hole where his livelihood once was, where the foundations of his existence used to be and replaces it with a dependency to base all of his emotions and choices around. The hole cannot be truly filled, it is like a void, hollow and echoing and he can try to ignore the draught that blows through him, ignore the peoples disdain as they eye him up, he can pretend that he doesn't notice and can even learn to live with it, but that will never erase the fact that it exists.

The repulsive smell of Minhyuk’s anger does not diminish, it lingers in the air and mixes with his own minty scent that ends up creating a hormonal mess that only sets the two of them on edge even more. Finally, after a long moment of silence, Minhyuk laughs shakily.

“You think I want to shout at you?” He says. “Hyungwon-ah, I'm trying to understand. I just want you to tell me what’s going on. You have to understand that this isn’t something that I can be okay with.”

There he is again, alpha Minhyuk thinking that he is a god amongst men, a saving grace, an angel who come down from heaven and appease Hyungwon and his insatiable desire for his own self destruction. “I think we need to get something clear.” He says. “I'm not looking for your approval. You either accept that this is me or you don’t. I'm not about to compromise with you.”

“I was trying to be thoughtful. I'm not stupid, I know that this isn’t something that’s easy for you to talk about-”

“You don’t know anything!”

Hyungwon wasn’t going to shout. He really wasn’t, he had kept that thought firm and resolute in his mind, he was going to stay calm, be diplomatic, was going to go through this like an adult rather than a raging teenager, a child who cannot control or stem the flow of emotion. But how could he, how was he expected to endure Minhyuk acting as though he could ever understand? If he understood then there would be no reason for this conversation, if he understood then he would leave Hyungwon alone, would know that there is nothing more belittling than a dependency on something which has control over everything in his life,  that there is nothing fun or exciting about taking drugs, that he doesn't do it for pleasure, that there is nothing in the world that he would like more than to be clean. Hyungwon wasn’t going to shout, but here he is and like a sink without a plug, he will drain out until he is empty.

“Can you even hear yourself right now? I'm not sick, Minhyuk-ah, there’s nothing wrong with me! Why can't you just leave me alone? Can’t you just pretend that you didn’t see anything? This has nothing to do with you!”

Minhyuk doesn't react, doesn't flinch back or shout in return, all he says in a very soft voice is, “Does anyone else know?”

It all comes crashing down on him like a tidal wave, one moment he is drowning, choking, gasping for air and the next he is face down in the water in a dead man’s float.

(Either way, he doesn't make it out alive).

Yes. Is all he can think. Changkyun knows. He knows and he doesn't care, he still likes me, cares about me doesn't look at me like as though I am some abomination, doesn't treat me like a problem to be solved. He knows that dependency is a noose around the neck, that it drags you around like you are on a leash and is pitiless regarding your weak-willed pleas to be released as it searches for the right tree to hang you off of. Changkyun knows and he has never treated me differently because of it.

But what is another lie amongst the others? He only hesitates a beat before answering, “No, no one else knows.” And Minhyuk nods firmly.

“Right. I'm not giving this back to you and anything else you have; I want you to hand it in. If you're going to complain when I'm giving you options then I’ll choose for you.”

What right does Minhyuk have to the way he disregards his own well-being? How dare Minhyuk even consider ripping something like this away from him? Like an elastic band he snaps, twists and contorts and devours.

“Who do you think you are?” His voice starts out as a whisper, a tiny and feeble thing but it grows to a crescendo, the soundtrack to the world which he painstakingly created the illusion of falling to the ground, crashing and burning. “What right do you have to interfere in something that has nothing to do with you? When I tell you to leave me alone, why can't you just leave me alone? You just had to go digging, didn’t you? Of course you did, because you're Minhyuk, a big bad alpha who thinks he’s a god. Tell me, alpha, are you happy with the choice you made? How do you dig yourself out of the hole that you're stuck in now? You need to think about what you want to say carefully before you open your mouth, Minhyuk-ah. You had the chance to stop me months ago and you didn’t so I'm not about to let you shove your values down my throat now. It’s a bit too late to expect me to change.”

If Minhyuk squints to adjust his frame of mind then he should understand exactly what Hyungwon is saying. When they had turned to him the first time, eyes widened with disbelief and told him feebly to stop blowing smoke, hadn’t it been their own naivety which had allowed him to flip them off, hadn’t it been their own fault for thinking that a single whisper would be enough against the roaring tide that has a grip on him and won’t let go?

“Listen to me, Hyungwon-ah.” Minhyuk’s voice really does shake now, he’s coming apart at the seams and can't stitch up the holes fast enough for them to go unnoticed. “Even if I turn around and pretend that I didn’t see anything, it won’t change the fact that I know what I know. This is more than just you, by hurting yourself you're also hurting us! I can let you carry on or I can stop you, in both situations I’ll be hated or held at fault by someone, so I might as well choose the one that will benefit you!”

“You being sentimental is what got us into this mess to start with!” Hyungwon exclaims. “You should have expected it right from the beginning! Your short-term niceties and extravagant morals have done nothing but served as a pollutant! You should have known that eventually they would have to give way to long term requirements, that your leniency at the start only held back and contracted the likelihood of actions which would have preceded my reformation! This isn’t a collective problem and I'm not going to feel guilty about something which you’ve chosen to concern yourself with!”

Minhyuk staggers back slightly, his scent dims down low, makes itself small and barely noticeable as Hyungwon rises himself up as greater.

“I'm scared, Hyungwon.” Minhyuk says desperately and his eyes seem to shine, wide and rimmed red and yes, Hyungwon can believe him. That is not the face of a liar. “My instincts want me to protect you, to take away what’s causing you harm but you're so violently negligent about your own suffering! You're so blasé about the danger in what you're doing! You could at least try, try to get help about it. Even if it doesn't work, at least you’ll know that you tried!”

“And what if I don’t want to?” Hyungwon says quietly. “What if I don’t want to get help? Of course it’s dangerous, that’s the point. Will it really hurt you so much to mind your own damn business?”

Minhyuk takes a deep and shuddering breath. “Tell me.” He says. “Our debut is in a matter of weeks. You can pretend now that none of this is happening, hide in your room and drug yourself up so no one has to know, but where are you going to hide when the whole world is watching you?”

Hyungwon stares at him, eyes shining, lips twisted into an unforgiving smile as he laughs shakily. “If I cared that much about the whole world.” He says. “Then don’t you think I would have stopped by now? You're playing a losing game, Minhyuk-ah, and by now you must have noticed that the cards really aren’t in your favour. So why not back down and stop before you have to start counting your losses? Oh, wait. I almost forgot. You can't get enough of fucking people over, can you? You're so intense, you think that you're superior! First Changkyun, and now me- maybe you should just see the pattern and realise where you're not needed. We were doing fine before you decided to make our business yours. Maybe it’s not us. Have you ever thought that maybe it’s you who’s the problem?”

And without waiting for an answer he pushes past the alpha, makes his way to his room, hands shaking almost violently as he opens the door and locks it shut behind him.

Changkyun raises his gaze from his phone with a frown of confusion as Hyungwon moves to the cupboards behind which he had stored the largest portion of his drugs. He’ll hand over the cigarettes and a small amount of something else that he can bear to part with if it will appease Minhyuk, but he isn’t suicidal, he isn’t going to give everything away and ignore his own screams and pleas that rip forth between his lips. He tears into his clothes drawer and sorts through the items, knowing that most of his hoodies and jeans have something or another sewn beneath the sleeves and into the cuffs. He can't keep them there anymore. The places where he had naively found refuge within, he won’t find sanctuary there any longer.

“Changkyun.” He finds himself murmuring, and the younger alpha sits up, leans forwards from the bed, eyes widened as he watches Hyungwon's frantic movements. “Changkyun I need… I need a favour.”

His voice comes out thick and his vision blurs. The emotion which he has built up bursts forth in a torrent, explodes in a massive tidal wave which gets in his lungs, the salt water grazes his insides and carves him out until all that is left is a raw and profound feeling that has him down on both knees and aching.

Changkyun comes to him without a question, walks the expanse of the small room and places a tender hand on his shoulder, an action which is too kind, too soft, one which he is undeserving of. What had he been thinking? Did he really think that Minhyuk would give him his drugs back, kiss his lips and tell him that he doesn't care for him or his livelihood, will allow him to continue in his slow suicide without intervening? Of course Minhyuk would be affected by the knowledge of what Hyungwon does, he had said as much, had tried to reason and all Hyungwon had done was scream and scream and sneer as though he was so much above Minhyuk's concern.

Changkyun’s hands cup his face gently, fingers wiping away the tears that have betrayed him, the emotion which has trickled down his cheeks. The alpha does not smirk, doesn't eye him belittlingly and spit in his face, no, Changkyun has always been soft touches and uncertain smiles, small and unsteady and ephemeral, too good for them all; not good enough for himself.

“Don’t cry, hyung.” He says in his intoxicatingly deep voice and Hyungwon bows his head in shame. “What happened? What do you want me to do?”

Hyungwon’s hands still shake and of course Changkyun sees it. It only takes him a moment to figure it out, eyes darting between Hyungwon's manic behaviour and the drugs which he’s managed to rip from the seams which lie on the ground, he is Changkyun so of course he would only take a moment to figure out Hyungwon who is laid out before him, palms splayed outwards like a prayer, begging to absolve the weight of his actions.

“Who found out?” Changkyun whispers. “How?”

A sob rips from between his lips before he can stop it and Hyungwon claps a hand over his mouth immediately as awful choking noises crawl up his throat. Changkyun’s arms comes round him, press him from where he kneels into the alphas chest and he gets a lungful of clean skin scent and a hint of something sweet and foreign which he can't pin down. His shoulders shake and Changkyun’s grip tightens, rocking him gently, soothingly as Hyungwon clings onto him like a child.

“Minhyuk.” He gasps between sobs. “Minhyuk found out. He found out and he hates me, he hates me Kyun-ah.”

“Calm down.” Changkyun says slowly, softly. “Be rational. Did he tell you himself that he hates you?”

No, he hadn’t, but it had been implied, and besides, how could Minhyuk still care for him after the knowledge that he is so filthy and filled with substances that he can’t exist without, after knowing that he’s uncaring and unwilling to change? God, he knows that he should make some sort of effort, even if its half-hearted, he should try to do something. Minhyuk hadn’t even shouted at him, he’d tried to understand, had been tentative and uncertain and concerned and Hyungwon had set that on fire until all that was left was the ashes of his anxiety and a burning rage which the alpha still hadn’t submitted to.

Hyungwon wishes that Minhyuk had just told him that he hates him. It would have been easier than this.

“If I'm filthy he should just let me be filthy.” He says instead, it doesn't answer the question but Changkyun will understand, holds him tighter. This isn’t about Minhyuk, this is about Hyungwon, it is about how Hyungwon harbours this choking self-hatred that he always has nestled in the pit of his stomach which refuses to leave. He can pretend that it is something else, pretend that he really believes that Minhyuk despises him right now- but he will always know that it isn’t true. Even when he lays in bed at night, his subconscious distorting reality until he can't remember what really happened and what lies his imagination conjures up, even then he will know that Minhyuk doesn't hate him, that he would still hold him close and tenderly with tears in his eyes and an apology on his tongue if Hyungwon were to crawl into his bed at night as though somehow this was all the alphas fault.

Emotions are so much effort. Hyungwon would be so much better off without them.

“You have to consider things from his perspective.” Changkyun is saying into his hair. “No matter how ‘filthy’ you consider yourself, he’ll always try to scrub you clean, even when you give up and decide that its too much hard work. They all would. That’s how love works.”  

Hyungwon huffs, makes a noise that’s halfway between a sob and a laugh. “So how about you?” He says. “Are you standing to the side while the other members try to valiantly save me like I'm a damsel in distress?”

Changkyun smiles slightly at that, draws back, hands coming up to cup Hyungwon's face again. “No.” He says. “We’re both sat on opposite ends of the same bathtub, trying to clean off our own dirt.” And then, quieter. “But I guess it’s inevitable that we end up getting some of our mess on each other. That’s why you shouldn’t push away the help of the other members, hyung. There’s only so much I can do to help you without dragging you further down.”

 Hyungwon's eyes flicker up to meet Changkyun’s. The alphas gaze on him is soft, his pupils blown up, dilated until there seems only to be two black holes where his eyes should be, the weight of his watching is heavy and intense but there is something behind it, something uncertain, unsteady. Hyungwon forgets sometimes, just how much he doesn't know about the secrets which Changkyun hides. He’s never pushed, never forced the younger to tell him anything, takes everything at face value and doesn't question further. They keep each other up like two pillars that support one another to remain standing, and it works- for the most part.

“Kyun.” Hyungwon says quietly, deciding forfeit all pretence’s and get to the point so he can move forwards and forget that it happened at all. “I need to hide my stuff. Minhyuk must have found the coke in one of my clothes while he was doing the laundry which means I just can't keep what I have anywhere that might be associated with me. I can't risk him or anyone else finding it again.” He pauses, giving Changkyun enough time to process what he’s saying, knowing that the alpha will already have gathered where this conversation is going, where he’s going to end up. “You have somewhere that you keep your stuff hidden, right? You can hold onto some of mine while I work something out, can’t you? It doesn't have to be for a long time. You don’t have to if you don’t want to but you don’t even need to tell me where you're putting it so long as I know there’s no chance of anyone finding anything.”

He’s desperate and he’s sure that Changkyun can sense it from the intensity of his scent and the look in his eyes, he’s certain that it’s only the sheer urgency with which he grips the alpha, clings onto him as though he is a saviour that makes Changkyun relent, nod firmly. “I’ll help you, hyung.” He says resolutely. “You don’t need to ask. We help each other out, don’t we?”

His words make something inside him ache and he wants to sob again. He’s never known a closure like this. They watch each other for a moment, taking each other in, Hyungwon’s eyes darting over Changkyun’s face, his pale skin and the dark bruises around his eyes, the way he hold himself in a visage of exhaustion and alongside the overwhelming sympathy which drums within him, beats alongside his pulse, he snaps out of the daze in an eagerness which he had been previously bereft of.

“Wait.” Hyungwon jerks back out of Changkyun’s grip, remembering something. He thrusts his hand into his pockets, fingers closing around a small metal bottle and draws it out, a smile playing on his lips. “I got you something!”

He hands it over, presses it into Changkyun’s palms who tilts his head in confusion. The bottle is discreet, unlabelled and the alpha looks up questioningly as the smile on Hyungwon's face morphs into a grin.

“It’s a scent blocker.” He says victoriously. “You said something about running out the other day so I talked to my dealer and we negotiated a bit. This is top of the range- none of that shit drugstore crap you usually use. This is the proper thing- apparently it can even block the scent of an alpha in rut or an omega in heat. Pretty good, right?”

Changkyun’s eyes widen as he stares at the bottle between his fingers. His gaze flickers up to Hyungwon and the beta realises with a jolt that the alphas eyes are huge and shining with tears. Something cold runs through him. Did he get it wrong? Did he see the neon signs flashing and decide to proceed without realising that they were screaming out a warning rather than an acceptance? How quickly can he take it back? Would it be okay, would it be within his rights to snatch the bottle back from between the alphas fingers and make his swift exit, could he leave now whilst the door is still open for departures or should he stay and rot in this unbecoming silence?

Stay. The withdrawal whispers the word like a song, a prayer, a mantra. Stay, stay, stay, stay, stay.

“Changkyun…?” He whispers uncertainly and the alpha blinks once, twice before taking in a soft breath, shoulders coming up in an awful defence which almost makes Hyungwon recoil, almost makes him pack his bag and think no, I am way out of my depth.

Just as he resolves to leave, to slide out of existence quietly and swiftly, Changkyun’s hand closes around his wrist, holds on tightly and before Hyungwon can open his mouth in question he feels a pair of lips press over his own, hard and firm and unyielding and all Hyungwon can think is oh.

Oh. He had got it so wrong.

His hand comes up to cup Changkyun’s cheek, tilts his face, getting a better angle to deepen the kiss and the alpha whines in response, presses against him, all hard bones and taut muscles and fiery passion. Changkyun kisses filthy, tongue and teeth, he is rough around the edges in a strange, rugged way which hadn’t previously registered to Hyungwon. He is flames and fervour, he explodes in a shower of ash, teeth bared in an epitome of molten agony and like an animal half starved, he devours. It awakens some primal instinct within Hyungwon, something just as starving as he kisses Changkyun back with an equal thirst. The world falls away around them and they are the only two people in existence, Changkyun’s hand slides up Hyungwon’s arm and rest at the nape of his neck, fingers curling in his hair, tugging at the strands as the beta bites his lip eliciting a low moan from the younger boy, deep and sensual coming from somewhere buried within him and Hyungwon can’t help but to smile.

Changkyun growls in response, pushes Hyungwon back until he lays flat on the floor with the alpha hanging over him, a comfortable weight, legs straddling his waist and Hyungwon can’t help himself, he thrusts up, grinding against Changkyun who hisses, nails digging into Hyungwon's skin, body arching into the contact as he breaks the kiss and looks down, eyes clouded with lust. Hyungwon places his hands on Changkyun's waist and raises an eyebrow from where he lays underneath him and Changkyun laughs slightly, lips swollen, hair tousled as he picks up the scent blocker which had fallen from his fingers once again.

“Thank you, hyung.” He says, his voice is hoarse and Hyungwon can feel heat pool low in his stomach. Changkyun shifts above him unconsciously which only sets him off again, eyes fluttering shut as he groans. Changkyun blinks, brows furrowed and Hyungwon really believes that he doesn't understand what he’s doing for a whole minute until he rolls his hips, a smirk touching the corner of his lips and Hyungwon swears quietly before Changkyun does it again, this time with more purpose, this time firmer, both of them hard as they press against each other and Hyungwon takes slow breaths to calm his racing pulse. If this was any other member, they would already be ripping each other’s clothes off in a mad hunger, wouldn’t bother with any of this opulent foreplay, would get to the point thrusting in and stifling their moans until they reach their climax.

But this isn’t anyone else. This is Changkyun, and Hyungwon knows that this is as far as Changkyun will go. There won’t be any manic clothes ripping or skin on skin, Changkyun flinches away from contact like that, he’s fine when his jeans are belted and his shirts are buttoned but as soon as he feels even a tentative touch of contact unless explicitly stated, he stiffens up, chest rising and falling with a profound type of fear which takes hours to coax away. Hyungwon doesn't know what happened to Changkyun to make him react so violently to such things but he hates it, he hates the reaction, wants to take it in his hands and rip that fear to shreds.

“Thank you.” Changkyun says again. “I just… you don’t know how grateful I am.”

Hyungwon grins back, takes Changkyun's hand and kisses the inside of his wrist. “If you need anything else, just ask.” He says. “I won’s push for questions no matter how scandalous it is.” He raises his eyebrows teasingly but Changkyun’s expression goes sombre. He pushes himself off of Hyungwon and settles for the floor beside him, throwing an arm over his waist as he lays on his side.

“Anything?” He asks uncertainly. “What if it’s something that’s so bad that you need to ask?”

Hyungwon frowns. “What could be that bad?” He says. “You mean worse than anything I do?”

Changkyun hesitates for a second and Hyungwon gets the impression that they're venturing into dangerous territory, that he should back down right now, lay low, stay quiet. Changkyun isn’t like him, he doesn't openly discuss whatever trauma has him hooked on the stuff that messes with hormones and throws his whole body off balance. Hyungwon has gathered that it must have been something bad, something awful if it still keeps him up at night, if it still makes him so careful, so tentative, but he knows better than any not to pry into something that has nothing to do with him. Instead of prompting him, Hyungwon offers a reassurance.

“You can tell me anything.” He says. “And no matter how bad it is, I won’t judge you. I promise.”

Changkyun looks at him apprehensively, stares intensely into his eyes, a hand coming up, resting over his chest. The alpha has told him before that he can tell when a member is lying, can feel it in their heartbeat and see it in their eyes and Hyungwon is telling the truth- he can only hope desperately that his body conveys as much.

A second passes before Changkyun removes his hand and bites his lip, brows furrowing into a frown.

“What if I tell you that I'm a serial killer?” He tries and Hyungwon knows that he’s testing the waters, testing how far Hyungwon can stretch. He does this sometimes, Hyungwon is no alien to Changkyun's habits of self-reassurance.

“You need help hiding the bodies?” Hyungwon says in response and he raises a hand when Changkyun deadpans. “Okay, okay. That’s pretty bad, I guess. But also kinda hot? Just don’t try to kill me and I’d be fine with it. Not like it has anything to do with me.”

The hand flutters back to his chest, Changkyun coming up again to stare him straight in the eye and Hyungwon sighs teasingly but doesn't comment.

“What if I told you I was part of the mafia?”

Hyungwon laughs.

“That would be pretty cool.”

Changkyun waits. Assesses. Doesn't comment, only moves on.

“What if I told you that I'm actually a vampire, which is why I need the scent blocker and the reason I don’t like intimacy is because it triggers my bloodlust and I don’t want to hurt any of you?”

Hyungwon blinks as he processes it, tilts his head knowing fully well that it’s impossible but simultaneously being unable to disguise the surprise at such a quick yet well formed lie for the sake of lying. He can't help but to be impressed.

“You can drink my blood any day. It wouldn’t matter to me.”

He has no reason to lie. He’s still waiting for the day that Changkyun realises that.

“What if I told you that the rumours about me are true, that I’m actually an omega in disguise and that I got into the company through an unfair advantage, that I'm actually dirty and I don’t want to sleep with you guys because I don’t want to taint you all?”

Something tightens in Changkyun’s voice, it is imperceptible but Hyungwon picks it up immediately, notices the tension in Changkyun’s shoulders, how the hand on his chest presses down harder, how his breaths quicken minutely. Hyungwon considers it for a second.

“I don’t think the rumours are true, first of all.” He says with a frown. “And like I said, if I'm already dirty, what’s a bit more going to do? I can live with it. And what’s wrong with being an omega? Omegas are badass.”

The silence which follows is long, Changkyun watches him for a long time, careful to keep any emotion off his face. Hyungwon is relaxed, knowing that he hasn’t spoken out of turn, wouldn’t lie about something like this and Changkyun seems to see it in his languid form because he moves back, expression still completely blank.

“You're actually serious about this?” He says, half to himself, and Hyungwon takes his hand and smiles softly.

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be? If those are really the worst things you can think of and I’d be fine with them, then there shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

Changkyun closes his eyes. Hyungwon can see it in his form, he’s really going to do this. He’s really going to tell him something so colossal that Changkyun equates it with being a serial killer, of all things. It means more to him that he can even begin to admit.

“Hyung.” Changkyun begins quietly, softly, he clutches Hyungwon’s hand tightly, swallowing hard. “Hyung, I'm a-”

“Are you two going to come out some point today are you going to stay holed up in your room for the rest of the day?”

Hoseok’s voice comes through loud as he bangs on the door. Changkyun’s words are lost in the noise and Hyungwon sits up with a growl.

“Can you stop banging, hyung?” He calls back. “I'm fucking exhausted and you're disturbing me!”

“It’s the middle of the day, why’re you trying to sleep?” Comes the reply and Hyungwon turns back to Changkyun, an apology ripe on his tongue.

“I'm sorry, Kyun-ah. Could we talk later? I need you to shove as much as my shit in your pockets as possible and hide it before someone breaks the door down and sees it all over the floor.”

Changkyun nods wordlessly, turns away and Hyungwon knows that the moment is lost. He can see it in the set of the alpha’s shoulders, in the dark of his eyes.

On Changkyun’s account, they won’t be having this conversation again so soon.

Oddly enough, Changkyun craves the illusion of solitude.

There’s a difference between being alone and creating a pretence of loneliness and Changkyun already knows that he isn't actually alone. But he likes pretences, a smokescreen to hide the details of his psyche and create a mask which depicts a vague outline of someone or something which goes beyond explanation, a brutish force, something safe, something strong. Something condemnable.

The illusion of solitude is safe. It’s also dangerous.

The distance he maintains between himself and his pack mates is a means to end- it isn't something sustainable, it never had the quality or concepts which could make it feasible or even logical. The distance is simply strategic, more of a warning, perhaps a hindrance as he trips over his own feet sewing up the seams of the façade that’s falling to pieces between his fingers faster than he can stitch it back together. The reasoning behind his behaviour is simple. He’s never been one for pointless extravagance’s, opulence in all forms, ornate words which are all show but have nothing to show for. He likes it clean cut. Prefers it, really.

Changkyun doesn't like being seen.

It’s the truth as he likes it, unmarred by the pollutants of the world, a secret he keeps to himself, something which wouldn’t be of much weight to anyone other than himself. He thinks that maybe other people notice it anyway- it’s not something that can stay hidden. By that he means he ties it around his forehead, white pen on white paper, it’s there even if people don’t see it. It’s his own puzzle and he likes it, likes the satirical implications of it, something so simple yet so complex- he likes the paradox it creates. Just try, the whole situation seems to taunt, voice dry and laden with irony, just try to solve me.

Except he doesn't really say that. He doesn't want to be seen.

He’d kissed Hyungwon after being gifted with the scent blocker, an impulsive decision, perhaps, though not poorly planned. Well thought out, well executed. He’s used to repaying favours in erotic ways- it’s the easiest and most rewarding route, better than having the favour hanging over his head like a noose, waiting for him to put his neck in it. He’d rather take the fucking raw than pour the poison with his own hands. Survival is an instinct. All his instincts are primal, like some wild animal, a half-crazed creature running on pure intuition, muscle memory kicking in, acting first and thinking after, like a tiger or a bear or a panther.

Or a wolf.

He acts in covert ways, has people on their toes, biting their fingernails in confusion. Look, he should tell them, I'm not an equation. There are no clever short-cut’s to figuring me out.

What he means is, close your eyes. What he means is, don’t look at me.

His phone buzzes. Hyungwon has his head on Changkyun’s lap, bored, lazy. It’s the usual, TV on, blaring static and the typical argument, SBS or CBC?  With Changkyun rolling his eyes because who fucking cares? He’s over sensitive and hyper aware, Hyungwon’s head in his lap is a familiar weight, one which shouldn’t induce anything significant within him but all he can do is will away any arousal that crawls inside him, Hyunwoo and Hoseok and Minhyuk are halfway across the room but the scent of alpha is so alluring that the grip that he has on his sweetly submissive wolf has his palms red and raw after desperately reigning it in. Not today, is all he can ever think in the morning, the sun glaring down at him with the apprehension of the coming day, give me another day, I still need to work something out. He’s good at strategizing but he’s also way out of his depth.

His phone buzzes again, hums with the ringtone and he flips it off with a tight knit of his brows. Hyungwon rolls his eyes before digging his fingers in Changkyun’s pocket and drawing it out shamelessly. His eyes widen.

“The CEO.” He says, stage whispers really because everyone turns to look at him with varying expressions displaying some semblance between a scrunch of brows and the slackening of jaws, shock and confusion and concern. Changkyun's huffs.

“Thanks a lot.” He says but he doesn't mean it. What he means is, I'm scared, and by that he means I don’t want to answer it, I don’t want to talk to him. He’ll call me in again. It’ll be the third time in a row and I think I've run out of luck.

He doesn't say all that. He snatches the phone from Hyungwon's hand and hits answer, holds it to his ear and takes a deep breath. Waits a few seconds before speaking. “Hello, sunbaenim.”

The response is a burst of short, cold laughter. “Did you count to three or five before speaking, Changkyun-ah?” He says, because Changkyun is predictable like that. He takes another breath, lighter, ignores Hyungwon's penetrating look.

“Five.” He says. The number five is a safe number, far safer than three anyway. Three says, one time too many, it says, even god can't save everyone.

Changkyun could laugh. He hasn’t felt the presence of god in years.

“I thought as much.” The CEO says smoothly. “This would be the third time I'm asking for you this month, wouldn’t it?”

He knows. He always knows. He doesn't understand that Changkyun doesn't like being seen. Or maybe he understands, he just doesn't care.

“It would.” Changkyun replies just as calmly. He’s practised the art of taciturnity. It works perfectly in his favour.

The CEO just laughs. He knows something. There’s too much complacency in his voice, in the carelessness with which he speaks. He doesn't even bother reprimanding him about having to call twice before Changkyun bothered to answer the phone. If it had been up to him, it would have remained unanswered. If it had been up to him, he would have chosen to save himself.

The CEO is complacent. At least he is to Changkyun. He just isn't as good at hiding it, at veiling the torrent of emotions, there’s just something that gives him away, something small, something meaningless, something imperceptible to anyone other than Changkyun. The CEO just doesn't have the tact, doesn't have what it takes to be like some people and by some people he means himself. But then again, why should he be? Why would he need to be? He’s a beta, he’s never had to be underhand. Not like Changkyun to whom this all comes to like second nature, a second skin, easy to slip into, easy to slip out of.

This isn't narcissism. They're plain, simple facts.

“Come to the company building.” The CEO says, the smile loud, overbearing in his voice. “Before nightfall. You don’t want to know what will happen if you don’t.”

Changkyun wouldn’t bet on it but he doesn't say as much. Instead he holds his breath, speaks in a voice equally as laden with evident, almost offensive falsity as he schools his expression into one of complete apathy.

“I’ll be there, sunbaenim. I look forward to meeting with you. Please anticipate my arrival.”

There is a substantial pause in which, for a second, Changkyun considers releasing the breath he’s holding as his lungs begin to ache- only a second before he reprimands himself, practises security, ignores the pain, learns to thrive in it. If anything, the CEO has probably gathered what he’s doing and is waiting him out, seeing how long it’ll take for him to crack.

Too long, he seems to decide because after a painful silence in which Changkyun is hyper aware of the members eyes on him, the CEO finally speaks. “You're good at that.” He says contemplatively. “Lying.”

He almost smiles at that. It’s almost a compliment. “If I wasn’t then I wouldn’t be here.” He says because it’s true but also because the CEO will start to think about the infinite possibilities in which Changkyun is a little less aware of his surroundings, an inch to the left, a little more docile, a little less careful. Thinks would have been different.

Changkyun doesn't have the time to think about things like that. There’s no point entertaining the thought of what if. Regret is a useless emotion.

“I suppose that’s true.” The CEO says and then, “I’ll let you go now. Don’t forget.”

“I won’t.” Changkyun says. There’s a click and then a hum and then silence. Changkyun lowers the phone and then takes a lungful of air, leaning back and closing his eyes. His heart has already picked up its pace, fingers shaking slightly, stomach roiling. One breath is the difference between calm and chaos.

It’s also the difference between life and death.

“Kyunnie.” Hyungwon says finally, burrowing into his stomach. Changkyun swallows down the nausea. “What did the bastard want this time?”

Changkyun shoots him a look. “Nothing much.” He says. “And don’t call him that. It’s disrespectful.”

Hyungwon laughs, rolling his eyes. “Putting on the innocent act in front of the hyung’s? It’s fine, Kyun-ah. It doesn't count as a curse word if it’s true.”

Changkyun shakes his head, says a small, “Come on, hyung,” and leans back against the head rest, breathes slower, closes his eyes as the members wait for his words. He lets them wait for a bit, thinks about how to say it without his voice shaking, thinks about how to breathe without choking. It doesn't take him long. He's good at this kind of thing. “He wants me to go to the company building in an hour or something.”

The answer is an amalgamation of words which come together to form a unanimous protest.

“Again? Didn’t he call you in the other day?”

“Or something? Come on, Kyun-ah.”

“What exactly did he say?”

“Is he using you to gain better moral standings? Maybe he feels sorry for you.”

“Sorry? The man’s a prick. He wouldn’t know sorry if it fucked him backwards.”

There is an art to maintaining a perfectly unperturbed and unaffected expression. Sometimes Changkyun thinks he might just have it down.

“It’s not such a big deal.” He says mildly. “I’ll be in and out. Probably.”

There’s a brief silence where they're watching him almost unsettlingly and he needs to resist the urge to tell them no, to ask them why are you looking at me? Kihyun sits forward, eyes flickering between the members before speaking quietly. “Be honest, Kyunnie. Is he fucking you?”

There’s a teasing glint in his eyes that tells him not to take the words to heart. Not that he would’ve anyway but it’s the thought that counts. The other members begin their protests like a group of masquerading radicals holding up signs and handing out leaflets, join the resistance! Fuck the patriarchy!

It’s easy enough to shrug it off. Anarchy is a naïve and unrealistic fantasy.

“Come on.” He says instead, rolling his eyes, pulling Hyungwon off of him and standing up. “You’ve got it all wrong. I would be fucking him.”

He makes his way to his room as the members bellow their applauds, “That’s our Kyunnie!” while he shakes his head, flips off their teasing remarks and tries to convince himself that he isn't terrified, tries to convince himself that his frantic heart beats are down to arousal and not extreme apprehension.

There’s a knock on the door, a tentative thing and Changkyun flickers his gaze up to see Minhyuk who’s shuffling his feet and biting his lips. He had been notoriously silent in the previous conversation, watching intently without speaking. Things between them are far better than they have been, but are a far cry away from perfect. He smiles nevertheless.

“Hyung.” He says. “Come in.”

Minhyuk complies, enters slowly, almost lazy in his languid movements, eying Changkyun up carefully with a small frown, contemplative, searching. “What did he actually say?” He asks softly and Changkyun doesn't look at him, pulls up a bag and searches through it just to give himself something to do.

“He said what I said he said.” Changkyun says and Minhyuk scrunches his nose at that. “Which is- nothing much.”

“Nothing much isn't nothing.” Minhyuk counters and look, he has a point. Changkyun shrugs.

“What do you want me to say? Hyungwon’s right. He’s kind of a huge bastard. He bitched at me a bit for not answering the phone right away and then told me to come to the company. He didn’t tell me why.”

You're good at that. Lying.

It doesn't really burn going down, but he doesn't think that makes him any better of a person. It’s not like he cares. Not like he wants to care.

Minhyuk doesn't say anything for a few second, just stands there staring before he drops himself onto the bed, leaning back on his elbows to look Changkyun fully in the face. Somehow, it’s different when he looks. It’s like he knows that Changkyun doesn't want him to see but he doesn't care. Not in a cruel and demeaning way. More intrigued. More understanding.

“I’ll be completely honest with you.” He says eventually, dropping his gaze, a small smile playing on his lips. “You're so full of shit.”

Changkyun stalls at that, looks up to Minhyuk who’s smile has morphed into a smug grin and he raises an eyebrow. He’s good at lying but Minhyuk is good at reading him, always has been. It’s slightly unnerving but there’s no malicious intent behind his actions. He means well, even when he thinks he doesn't.

“You would know all about being full of shit, wouldn’t you, hyung?” He says, a smile playing on his own lips and Minhyuk just huffs, glares intently. It ends in teasing- it usually does with him. He can't stand implications, it’s far easier just to redirect the conversation. His life is a joke, he might as well make the most of it and laugh.

“Funny.” Is all Minhyuk says and Changkyun sighs, sits down next to him, sits close. He is bereft of any scent but he doesn’t care, isn't wary because of it and Minhyuk's scent is strong enough for the both of them anyway. And whatever. It’s not like he’s going to ask questions.

“You think the CEO is bad?” He asks because it’s a good conversation starter, but also because he knows the truth. He finds nothing good in a wolf dressed up in wool, pretending to be a sheep.

Minhyuk shoots him a sideways glance, eyebrows raising but he doesn't question it. His mouth thins out like it does when he’s thinking, fingers drumming against the mattress, considering. “I don’t know.” He admits. “I can’t tell. Sometimes I think he might not be so bad but other times I’m sure he’s no good. Like the other day, when he spoke to you. I hated him and I don’t even know what he said.”

It’s the sentiment that counts, he supposes.

“What about you?” Minhyuk asks. “Do you think he’s bad?”

Changkyun turns to him. they’re close, so close. Close enough that he can feel Minhyuk's breaths splaying out over his skin, warm and soft and feather light. He laughs humourlessly. “I'm not a good person to ask about something like that.” He says. “I don’t have an opinion unless I know I'm right.”

Minhyuk hesitates, clearly thinking about his words, still chewing on his lip, drawing blood. Changkyun reaches out almost unconsciously, touches his face with the tip of his fingers, skimming over the burst of red. Minhyuk's eyes widen in surprise but he doesn't comment, doesn't speak until Changkyun moves back. He exhales shakily. “You have an opinion.” He decides. “You don’t want to tell me because you know the truth.”

To him, tyrannicide has always been a beautiful word. Far mor reassuring than anarchy. Far more destructive than revolution.

“Maybe.” Changkyun says. “Maybe not.”

He casts his gaze to the window where the sky is moving out of the multichromatic phase of crimson and ochre and lilac and into the monochrome black and white- past salvation and into destruction.

Changkyun craves destruction, but not like this. He wants to be the destructor. He doesn't want to be destroyed.

“I should get going.” He whispers and the fear jumps back. The conversation had been an adequate deterrent but he can't evade the certainty of his coming ruin, not when it’s glaring at him with red eyes and marred skin and two sharp horns like the devil. He swallows hard, fingers shaking.

Minhyuk sees it and reaches out, hand hovering over him. “Can I-?” And Changkyun nods, yes, touch me, hold me, save me. Tell me to stay. Tell me not to go.

He feels himself enclosed in warm arms, a caress so soft and so bereft of any of the feelings which nestle within him that the change almost gives him whiplash. He exhales, breaths shaking and Minhyuk holds him tighter, holds him close and Changkyun wants to be held like that forever. Come with me, he wants to say, tell the CEO that you didn’t want me to go alone. Lie to him. Save me.

He says none of it. His instinct to protect his pack is greater than the instinct to save himself.

“I really should go.” He says unsteadily and Minhyuk lets go of him.

“Listen.” He says quietly. “If anything happens, promise me you’ll call me. Promise me. I’ll come straight away.”

Changkyun watches him, looks into his face which is open and pleading and he aches. He leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to Minhyuk's lips, a sweet, soft thing of little substance but to him it means a lot. To him, it means everything.

“I can't.” He says after a second. “I can't promise you that.”

When he turns around, he doesn't look back. He can't.

He can't bear to find another reason to stay.

+

Changkyun knocks only once on the smooth wood of the door and he’s being told to come in. In all honesty, he'd far rather not go in, he quite likes the white walls of this hallway, doesn't quite mind the hum which tells him that the air con is broken so it’s too cold for May out here- but look, he doesn't mind that his breaths are clouding and his fingers are white, he’d rather be out here freezing to death than in there dying in a whole other sickening way.

It’s not like he has a choice. He twists the handle and steps inside.

The CEO is seated behind his desk as per usual but for once Changkyun’s gaze doesn't go to him first. No, instead his eyes flicker to the man stood behind him, tall and well dressed, face handsome in a rugged alpha kind of way and his scent pervades everything else in the room, strong and screaming and intoxicating.

Changkyun’s gaze doesn't linger. His expression doesn't change.

He moves towards the chair opposite the desk and bows quickly in greeting before sitting down, leaning back in a brief masquerade of ease and carelessness. Last time he was in here, he’d allowed his emotions to best him. He isn't one for making the same mistake twice.

“Sunbaenim.” He inclines his head. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The CEO doesn't answer straight away. He smiles slightly as he signs a piece of paper, sifts through a pile of letters, clicking his pen, taking his time, waiting it out. He allows the tension to build to a climax before dropping the bomb and taking the dive so that the only person who ends up actually suffering is Changkyun himself. Changkyun holds his breath while waiting, counts to ten before starting over, does this four, five, six times until the CEO finally looks up and he finally releases his breath.

“Sixty?” The CEO asks pleasantly and Changkyun drums his fingers on his knee.

“Yes.” He says. The CEO is well-versed with his habits. Or perhaps not well-versed, perhaps this wouldn’t be considered as a habit. More like he takes pride in reading him. More like they aren’t as different as Changkyun wants them to be.

“I would have waited until one hundred but it would compromise my plans if you passed out.” The CEO says. “And it isn't as nicely rounded as it sounds. Try for one hundred and twenty, next time. Neither of us like things half done.”

Changkyun doesn't entertain him. “Is there anything in particular I can help you with?”

The CEO’s eyes glint. “There is, as a matter of fact.” He says. “There’s a lot you could help me with. But I'm afraid you simply don’t have the time to help with it all.”

Changkyun clears his throat. “A shame. If only I wasn’t so tied up right now.”

“It’s the opposite, really. I could mop the floor with you.”

The man behind him lets out a huff of laughter. Changkyun narrows his eyes. “You could.” He says. “But you won’t.”

He’s good at crossing lines. Maybe not crossing lines as much, maybe more rubbing them out and redrawing them as he sees fit. This isn't a few days ago. He’s had time to think. He won’t cry like a child if things start going south.

Probably. Possibly.

“Don’t test your luck.” The CEO is saying. “If I hit rock bottom then you’d better get a shovel and start digging because it’ll only be worse for you.”

Changkyun shrugs. “It’s usually worse for me.” What he means is, I'm used to it. What he means it, I already know.

The CEO smiles, sharp teeth and dark eyes. Malign. Condemnable.

Everyone is condemnable, Changkyun decides. No one is pure.

“Changkyun-ah, let me introduce you to Bae Yejun.” The CEO gestures to the man beside him. “Executive of a formidable news company. He’s here to do you a kindness.”

Changkyun’s thought process is predictable in the sense that he thinks the same things on impulse. Right now, is no different- it leaves a sour taste in his mouth but the taste doesn't override the thought. The CEO smiles. He knows what Changkyun is thinking.

“A kindness?” He repeats. “On the basis of what payment?”

He thinks he already knows. The CEO knows that he knows.

“You already know.” He says, to get it out in the open and Changkyun feels himself pale in spite of himself. He wasn’t going to be like this. He was going to maintain the illusion of being put together for once.

But it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“He doesn't smell like an omega.” Bae Yejun interjects. For all his good looks, there doesn't seem to be anything to show for beyond his dark locks. Or maybe he’s getting bored. Maybe he isn't one for small talk.

“Of course he doesn't.” The CEO says. “It would be far too easy if he did.”

Bae Yejun looks at him with a hard, penetrating stare. It’s evident that no one has taught him social etiquette. Or maybe he thinks himself above it as an alpha. He clearly can't read the warning strapped to Changkyun’s forehead. The one that says don’t look.

“I can't believe anyone could believe he’s an alpha.” Bae Yejun says. “But maybe it makes sense. He’s…”

“Different?” The CEO prompts.

“Convincing.” Bae Yejun decides. “He talks like an alpha. I've never seen an omega behave like that. They’re taught not to, you know. Taught to sit still and be good, taught that they’re less. They wouldn’t dare look at me like he is.”

“He’s not like other omegas.” The CEO agrees. “This one has a sex aversion.”

“An aversion?” Bae Yejun makes a face. “That’s a first.”

“He’s a lot of firsts.” The CEO nods and Changkyun rolls his eyes, tired of being treated like he’s not here. Tired of being objectified.

“I don’t want to.” He says finally, managing to hide the tremor in his voice. “I don’t want to do it.”

The CEO turns. “I haven't really given you a choice, have I?” He says. “It’s in your interest to do as I say, Changkyun-ah. I only ever have your best interests at heart.”

“You have a subjective view on best interests.” Changkyun says through gritted teeth. “I'm not a plaything. You can't just toss me around to appease other people as it suits you.”

“Can't I?” The CEO raises a brow. “I think I just did.”

Changkyun’s eyes flash and the CEO smiles widely, holding out a hand. “Hold on.” He says. “Count to ten, Changkyun-ah. You haven't heard me out yet.”

He does as he’s told. By the time he’s counted to ten the CEO has his hands between his own and could be patting them almost reassuringly if the action wasn’t so patronising.

“Here’s the thing, Changkyun-ah.” The CEO starts. “The last time we met, you were quite vehemently against the prospect of revealing any of your two deplorable truths. As I said then, and as I shall repeat now, it’s horribly selfish of you to think only of yourself in a matter that concerns other people as well- and since you chose such a thing, the only thing to do in response is to pay a retribution in order to make up for the missed opportunity.”

“I have a right to care about myself above others.” Changkyun says, voice not quite as confident, nor quite as loud as it had been. “Self-preservation isn't selfish. My life is my own. I can’t be expected to help others if I can't even help myself.”

“No. I suppose not.” The CEO says, but it’s clear that he’s just humouring him. “But that’s beside the point. It’s only half the deal. You see, as I said in our last meeting, incremating pictures of you have been sent to me. They were also, for some obscure reason, sent to the news. It would be quite the scandal wouldn’t it? Up and Coming Idol Notorious for Sleeping Around. I can see it on the headlines.”

Changkyun sees red. “I wasn’t sleeping around.” He whispers. How can he say it? I was raped, how dare you try to romanticize that? I couldn’t sleep for weeks, for years after, I can't be touched without flinching, I feel sick if anyone makes a move on me. How can you try to trivialise something which has shaped me, something that saw me down and vulnerable and decided to take a knife to my hollow bones and carve me out into something cynical? Something filthy. Something unlovable.

You can dress a murderer in velvets and silks, that doesn't change the fact that he killed someone.

“Maybe you weren’t.” The CEO says. “The media will take what it sees. Which is where my friend Bae Yejun comes in. You see, this is a profitable story, one which he could make a lot of money selling. To strip him of that… it’s a little unfair isn't it? But he’s been so kind as to assure us that he will delete the pictures. So long as you do this.”

The breaths are knocked out of him. Surely… surely this isn't allowed? He counts. To ten, to twenty. It doesn't help. He’s counted to fifty by the time he realises that he’s so out of his depth that he’s practically drowning, this isn't a matter of immorality anymore, it’s one of necessity, one of sickening urgency.

Besides. Morality is just a word.

“I’ve said this before.” Changkyun says. “I'm not your little bitch.”

The CEO shakes his head. “And I never suggested you were. Don’t put words in my mouth, how about that? You were just talking about self-preservation and now you're in luck. This is a matter of self-preservation.”

Changkyun swallows hard. “I'm not like that.” He whispers. “I can't sleep with just anyone. Hell, I can't sleep with anyone at all.”

The CEO scoffs. “Don’t act like a blushing virgin.” He says. “Okay, so it’s been a while. I can assure you you’ll get your footing after the second or third round. There’s really not much to it. Lay there, spread your legs and pretend that you're enjoying it. You're good at pretending and you're good at spreading your legs so I don’t see how there’s a problem.”

“I don’t want to!” Changkyun says, begs really because he’s starting to get desperate and he’s not above begging. The CEO tuts.

“That’s not my problem.” He says. “That’s your problem. This is non-negotiable. Whether you like it or not, it’s going to happen. You might as well enjoy it because I know that he will.”

Changkyun closes his eyes. He was always playing on the losing side.

+ **

They drive downtown to some fancy high-end place where a room had already been rented, a huge thing with a bed and dim lights and an overall erotic ambience that tells him this whole situation has been planned for longer than he’d thought. This isn't a last-minute thing. It’s well thought out.

He’s way, way out of his depth.

“Here’s the thing, kid.” Bae Yejun says. “I'm not really all for sleeping with idols. It’s too messy. You think you're being clever, sneaking around and waiting till it’s lights out but the jokes on you in the end. The cameras are always out. Eventually someone finds out and it’s too much effort cleaning up afterwards.”

Changkyun doesn't say anything, stands by the door in silence. Yejun continues after a moment.

“You're lucky that this is already out in the open. Your CEO already knows so the mess is on his hands. You can close your eyes for all I care, just say you want it instead of making me the bad guy.”

Changkyun swallows. “I don’t want this.” He hisses. “Let me go. Find someone else. Please. I'm begging you.”

Yejun shakes his head. “I hate brats like you.” He says. “You can beg all you like when you're naked. I keep telling you that you're lucky. Most alphas won’t deal with any back talk from their omegas. Consider yourself blessed that I'm not the violent type. This could be going a lot differently.”

“Blessed?” Changkyun spits. “I don’t want this. It’s rape.”

“Rape?” Yejun really does laugh then, the stoic mould evaporating, giving way to loud, demeaning laughter. “You're funny. Who taught you a word like that?”

Changkyun looks down. “My hyung.”

Yejun only laughs louder, he grasps him roughly by the shoulder and pulls him towards the bed. “Yeah?” He says. “Well I'm telling you that your hyung is full of shit. Rape? You're an omega, baby. You're only good for sex.”

Yejun starts by pulling off his shirt exposing a cool expanse of bruised skin pulled taut over ribs and hips, chest which is slightly swollen, sensitive to touch, an almost feminine curve to his waist that repulses him. Yejun whistles. “Your boss wasn’t lying about those suppressants.” He says, tracing the outline of a tender berry coloured bruise, skimming the line of his body, eyes hungry as he stares and stares and stares.

He presses a rough palm over his jeans and Changkyun gasps at the feeling, pupils dilating, fingers closing into white knuckled fists. Yejun tuts. “Or about that aversion, it seems.” He says, pushing Changkyun onto the bed and moving to the table where there sits a glass of water. “Will you really not be able to get it up? That’s a shame. I didn’t want to have to do this.”

He holds the glass in his hand, it’s transparent, seems to be only water but Changkyun wouldn’t take his chances. Yejun holds it out to him though, eyes flashing and Changkyun is in way over his head to refuse. He takes it from his hands and drinks it, hands shaking, breaths jerking as he looks down, doesn't dare to look back up.

“Your heat is coming soon, isn't it?” Yejun says. “Very soon. No need to wait for it anymore, I've just sped it up for you.”

Changkyun’s eyes widen and he casts his gaze back to the glass which has a dusting of white powder over the rim. Heat inducers. He can't hide the gasp.

“No.” He whispers. “You… you can't…”

“Changkyun, baby.” Yejun says, patronising. “I just did.”

The first wave of almost mindless arousal sweeps over him and his fingers shake violently. Yejun takes the glass from between his fingers and pushes him back against the pillows, his scent overwhelming, elegant, musky, somewhere between the curls of a flame and the crimson of blood, Changkyun can hardly breathe anything else in. All he’s getting are lungful’s of intoxicatingly aroused alpha, the please no just a ringing in his ears at this point. Yejun comes back, hovers over him, covers his mouth with a calloused hand, “Shh. Carry on like that and we might have a problem.”

Oh. So he’d been saying it out loud, a murmur, a whisper, a string of words hummed like a mantra, the last shred of hope dispersing and disappearing until all that he has left are the rotting spools of reality, a gust of cold air and high pitched laughter.

He isn't drowning in despair anymore. No, now the despair is drowning him.

Yejun’s hands move to fumble at Changkyun’s waistband, undoing the belt and popping the buttons as the second wave of arousal hits and against his will he bucks up into the alpha’s hands, a pained moan escaping through his gritted teeth.

“Look at that.” Yejun says. “So desperate. I told you you’d like it. I told you you’d be begging.”

“Please.” Changkyun whispers in spite of himself. “Please, please don’t. He doesn't have to know. He doesn't have to know I swear.” His words come out languid and slurred, his body flushed, hot and cold and aching, screaming to be touched while his mind simultaneously screams in aversion. A paradox.

How ironic.

“Where’s the spoiled omega gone, Changkyun-ah?” Yejun says instead of telling him to stop talking, instead of telling him to shut the fuck up. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight. I was getting ready for it, you know.” He grins. “What I mean is, I thought you’d be more fun, but once you're naked you're just like every other omega.” He pulls off Changkyun’s jeans in a single motion leaving stripped down, bare and vulnerable and neck deep in shame. “Desperate, moaning messes, all of them. Boring. But you're just as boring, aren’t you? Docile, eager. You like it, even if you're telling yourself you don’t.”

He draws back and starts to strip himself down. Changkyun watches, unable to move through the drug induced hazed, the effects of the heat having his body almost crazed, slick wetting the bed sheets beneath him, chest heaving as he gasps and chokes and forces himself not to gag. After using suppressants for so long, his body has been starved.

His wolf is ravenous. There is nothing sweet or docile in a creature so starved that it’ll devour anything that smiles at it.

“After this is over.” He manages to hiss. “You’d better run. Because when I catch you, I won’t let you go. When I catch you, I'm going to kill you.”

There’s a brief pause, a rustle of clothes and then Yejun is on top of him, a heavy, alpha weight, muscles and strength and skin and skin and skin. His eyes are bright, manic. “Is that what you said to the people who did this last time?” He whispers, running a hand through Changkyun’s hair.

“Maybe.” Changkyun murmurs and Yejun laughs.

“You're lying.” He says. “It’s you who does all the running. Too scared to look back. Who are you running from, Changkyun-ah?”

Changkyun doesn't answer. Yejun only laughs again before thrusting his hips forward, their erections pressing against each other and Changkyun grits his teeth so not to scream or yell or beg or moan in response.

“I think you're running from yourself.” Yejun whispers. “From the little desperate omega that lives inside you. You can't stand what you are. You couldn’t kill me if you had a loaded gun pointed to my head. You just couldn’t do it.”

“I wouldn’t need a gun.” Changkyun says. “I have two perfectly functioning hands to kill you with.”

Yejun tuts, spreading Changkyun's legs and teasing his hole, cruel, cold fingers. “God would condemn you.”

Changkyun spits in his face. “Do I look like someone who cares about what god thinks?” He snarls and Yejun laughs again but it’s in surprise this time rather than that mocking, patronising purr.

“You might not be so boring after all.” He says. “Spit on me again. I liked that. I like the blasphemy thing, very hot. Something I could get off on.” He leans forward, twisting his fingers inside him and Changkyun squeezes his eyes shut. “Moan for me, Changkyunnie. Just once. Go on, humour me. It doesn't matter if you enjoy it, you can ride me and spit on me and curse god all you like in this room, and when you go back you can tell your precious hyung’s that I held you against your will and paint me as the villain. This can be our secret. So how about it? Just one moan- but make it good. Make it filthy.”

“You're filthy.” Changkyun whispers and Yejun’s eyes flash.

“That’s right.” He says. “I am.” He presses another finger into his slick wet hole, pulling him open, knuckle deep and remorseless as he twists his wrists and probes for the sensitive spot that he knows will elicit a satisfying reaction. “I am.” He repeats. “But so are you.”

Changkyun raises two heavy, weakened arms and grasps Yejun’s shoulders, trying to push him off, trying and failing and trying and trying and closing his eyes, holding his breath, counting to one hundred, to one hundred and twenty, begging himself, please don’t cry. Don’t react. Just lay there without breathing and hope to die of asphyxiation so you don’t have to commit suicide after it’s over.

“You know.” Yejun says, unperturbed, eying Changkyun's futile attempts at fighting back with unhidden amusement. “I'm kind of starting to think that this whole rape thing is just a kink of yours. You want me to play along? You want me to be the big bad rapist?”

“You are a rapist.” Changkyun gasps and Yejun shoves in another finger which has Changkyun biting his lip so hard it draws blood, a burst of copper on his tongue.

“I'm not.” Yejun says. “A rapist wouldn’t do this. Look, I'm doing you a kindness. I'm prepping you so you don’t scream when I shove it in, I gave you the drink so you’d enjoy this more, produce slick, get it up. I even said that you can enjoy it and no one has to know. You can go out pretending I did something bad all you like. I won’t tell anyone if you beg me for more in here. That’s a kindness.”

“A kindness.” Changkyun repeats through laboured breaths. “You're a rapist. I'm telling you to stop and you're not stopping.”

Yejun growls, growls impatient, squeezes in a fourth finger so that he’s basically fist deep inside Changkyun, stretching him out, long fingers curling inside him so deep that he can almost feel it in his gut. It doesn't make him feel aroused. It makes him feel sick.

“Rapist is a big word, baby.” Yejun says. “You shouldn’t use it if you don’t know what it means.”

He finds the sweet spot and with a wicked grin he presses against it, hard and rough and fast and Changkyun cries out, arches his back, tightens around Yejun’s fingers, bites his lip so not to sob and sob and scream for help.

No one will hear him. And if they do, they won’t care because fuck it, he’s an omega. This is what he’s made for.

“Treat it like a performance.” Yejun is saying conversationally as though he isn't wrist deep inside him. “Sex is a performance. Your fear of sex can be given to your participation in the delusion of your own pleasure. Use sex as a performative art. Isn't that what you're good at? Creating something that doesn't come naturally, embodying a performance, performing an experience. Becoming a form of self-harm.” He smiles almost pitying. “Because let’s be honest. You want to hurt yourself more than you want to hurt me.”

It’s the truth and because it’s the truth, Changkyun hates himself more for it. It makes him filthier. Another stain which won’t wash out. Becoming the epitome of his own resent. Seeing his own face in his nightmares. Is he one person and a mirror or is he two people?

“Poor, scared little Changkyunnie.” Yejun taunts. “You’ll never stop running.”

He removes his fingers all at once, glistening with slick and he holds them to the light before placing his index finger onto his tongue, teeth glinting madly. “You taste so sweet.” He purrs. “Too bad you're wearing a scent blocker. I’d love to smell your sweet scent, too.”

Changkyun looks at him through half lidded eyes. “For someone who’s trying to convince me he’s not a rapist.” He says, tongue heavy in his mouth. “You're sure doing a good job of sounding like one.”

Yejun raises a brow and then, without warning he pushes his dick into the stretched, slick hole, pressing in all the way, gripping Changkyun’s thighs, holding them over his shoulders and looking him straight in the eye. “It’s part of the act.” He whispers. “To make you feel better about enjoying this.”

He fucks quickly. Hard, slamming thrusts, gripping onto Changkyun’s legs, pressing bruises into his skin, too high for anyone to see as he grits his teeth, moans low and filthy like he promised, scent growing heavier, thicker as the sound of skin on skin resonates through the room. Changkyun keeps his eyes open, schools his expression into apathy, even when Yejun becomes rougher, angles the thrusts so that they hit the pleasure spot every time, eyes fixed on Changkyun’s expressionless face, searching for a flicker of emotion to show through the façade.

“Here’s the thing.” He says carelessly. “We’ve established that without any drugs you're practically frigid. That’s fine. It’s fixable. But you don’t need to go out of your way to be a cast iron bitch. What do I need to do to make you crack, hm? Shall I ask nicely? I sort of want to make you cry. I want to know if you can, if you know how. Cry for me Changkyun-ah. Do you know how?”

Changkyun grits his teeth as Yejun pulls him closer still, slowing down, longer more deliberate strokes, thrusting into him almost languidly. “I don’t know.” Changkyun manages. “Maybe you should ask around. See if there’s a drug that can cure that too.”

Yejun laughs. “I knew you were funny, Changkyun-ah.” He says. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

He picks up the pace again, rough, careless, skin on skin, loud, obscene moans as Changkyun wills himself not to make even a sound. The bed shakes with the force of it all, Changkyun can't help his grip on Yejun’s wrist, fingernails digging into the skin and the alpha growls, low, dirty as he reaches climax.

Changkyun knows because he’s on the edge too. He’s on the edge, clinging on by the tips of his fingers.

Yejun seems to notice. He extracts his wrists and closes his hand around Changkyun’s dick which sends a new kind of fire coursing through his veins. It’s harder not to shout out, not to scream obscenities as the man strokes his length with a primal type of urgency, drawing out the filthiest truths from deep inside him and milking him dry.

They reach their climax at the same time, in taut gasps and repelling shame and filth and filth and filth. Changkyun draws away, slick running down his leg as he stumbles to the bathroom, the clock reading well past midnight as he curls over the toilet and is violently, repulsively sick.

+ **

The buzz of his phone is what wakes Hyungwon up.

He’d tried to stay awake, waiting for Changkyun but he must have drifted asleep and now it’s bordering midnight and the alpha is still not back.

It makes him sick with worry.

He pushes himself into a sitting position. The room is dark, the TV playing out some stupid teleshopping programme, people speaking in a near muted volume and when Hyungwon glances around the room, there’s only one person there, only one person awake, staring wide eyed at the TV unseeingly, gaze glazed over, expression slack.

“Minhyuk-ah.” Hyungwon calls out, voice low and Minhyuk starts out of his stupor and turns to look at him. His eyes are ringed red and he’s too pale against the darkness of the room. Hyungwon doesn't want to talk to the alpha, in complete honesty, but his pride is overruled by his concern for Changkyun. “Changkyun isn't back yet.”

Minhyuk flickers his eyes to the door and then the bedroom’s before back to Hyungwon. “He’s not.” He agrees. Hyungwon furrows his brows as his phone buzzes again, a ping to announce a message and when it comes through, his eyes widen.

“Minhyuk.” He says, a pitch too high. “Minhyuk, Minhyuk! Look.”

The number is withheld but the message is clear. Changkyun’s name alongside an address. “We have to go.” Hyungwon says immediately and Minhyuk frowns at him.

“No.” He says. “Call the manager. You don’t know who that’s from.”

“It’s a hotel address.” Hyungwon rolls his eyes. “How bad can it be? And anyway, you're coming too. A big, bad alpha to save poor beta me from any prowling bastards.”

Minhyuk’s frown only deepens. “You need to stop with the cursing.” He says seriously, only half lucid from lack of sleep. Hyungwon rolls his eyes again.

“Are you saying they aren’t bastards?”

Minhyuk gets to his feet, moving to the door and pulling on his coat. “I'm not saying anything.” He says. “I'm telling you to stop talking.”

“That’s not what it sounded like.” Says Hyungwon, following him. “If I stop talking then we’ll be left in silence and I don’t want to overthink right now. This is kind of cool. How we’re sneaking out.”

“We’re not sneaking out. We’re just going out.”

“Yeah. In the middle of the night. Romantic.”

Minhyuk unlocks the door after stepping into his shoes, shooting Hyungwon a sideways look. “If you like that sort of thing.” He says decidedly, moving out into the cold night air and locking the door behind him. “How are we getting there this late at night?”

Hyungwon tilts his head contemplatively. “No idea.” He admits. “Taxi? Hitchhiking? We could just walk.”

“What about the prowling bastards?”

Hyungwon looks at him startled. “Is this where I tell you to stop talking and not to use bad language?” He asks, which elicits a small smile from the alpha.

“No. This is where you make a quick decision. It’s you who wanted to do this.”

Hyungwon shrugs, loops an arm through Minhyuk's and grins coquettishly. “There’s nothing quite like walking in the dark with an alpha’s arm to hang off of, is there?” He says and it’s decided. The walk isn't far, maybe twenty minutes of brisk walking, half an hour if it’s leisurely. Hyungwon likes conversation, it stops the worry from becoming too pronounced inside him and even though technically they're not on speaking terms, he likes Minhyuk's company, a strong, steady force to keep him grounded.

“I'm sorry.” Minhyuk says after a glaringly silent moment. He turns his head, eyes soft in the lamplight as he looks at Hyungwon with a piercing intensity. “I'm sorry for making you cry the other day.”

Hyungwon considers this. “If I hadn’t cried would you still be sorry?” And Minhyuk laughs, a brief flutter in the wind.

“Yes.” He says, teasing. “Maybe not as much.”

Hyungwon huffs, also teasing. “Don’t bother apologising, then. I don’t know who you are. We aren’t friends.”

Another silence, shorter, less tense. “I know I flipped off the prowling bastard theology but what will you do if you see someone who resembles said bastard and just happens to be prowling?”

Hyungwon glances at Minhyuk from the corner of his eye before shrugging delicately. “Who knows? If it’s an attractive prowl I might find myself captivated.”

“And if it’s not?”

“I might go along, just to see what happens.” Hyungwon glances at Minhyuk again, for longer this time, fighting to keep the smile off his lips. “Why? Would you be concerned?”

Minhyuk presses closer. “Of course. A pretty face like yours, who knows what would happen to you?”

Hyungwon grins for a second before wiping his expression clean. He’s enjoying this.

“You're charming. Say that again.”

“Say what? That I’d be concerned or that you have a pretty face?”

He grins. “Both. And switch it up a bit. Make it interesting.”

There’s a tiny pause. Minhyuk draws even closer, stops walking, turns to face Hyungwon who raises an eyebrow.

“You already know you're good looking.”

It’s Hyungwon’s turn to laugh. “Do I?”

“Everyone always says it. Of course you know.”

Hyungwon takes a step forward so that their bodies are pressed against each other’s. “Maybe I just want to hear you say it.”

Minhyuk exhales, hand coming up to cup Hyungwon’s cheek. “You're beautiful.” He says, whispers, voice husky, low, erotic.

When they come together in an explosion of dust and particles and light the only word for it is cosmos. They kiss too dirty considering they're in public, a little too hungry, a little too urgent- it isn't long enough to be considered making out but it comes close enough. They only stop their clash of teeth and tongue when Hyungwon puts up a hand, breathing heavily, eyes shining, “Well fuck me sideways.” He breathes. “You're a prowling bastard.”

Minhyuk tilts his head back and laughs. “Am I?” He probes.

“You really are. Who do you think you are, sweeping a poor, vulnerable, infatuated beta off his feet like that?”

“Vulnerable?” Minhyuk raises an eyebrow. “Infatuated?”

“You're cute when you want to be.” Hyungwon decides, swiftly moving on, slipping his hand into Minhyuk's as they continue walking. “In a prowling, alpha sort of way.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I kind of like you.”

Minhyuk laughs again. “You're sort of cute too. In a vulnerable, infatuated sort of way.”

“So I've heard.” Hyungwon says airily. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Minhyuk pokes him. “Is this some sort of roleplay or something?”

“Why? Are you getting off on it?”

Minhyuk shrugs his shoulders, walking in a deliberate, long strides sort of way. “I could.” He says.

Hyungwon pauses to think, only for a second, but it’s enough to allow the fear to consume. Thoughts of Changkyun eclipse him like a tidal wave, too much water and salt and general uncertainty and it makes him waver for a second, drop the flirtatious act and feel the fear which is nestled in a cavity somewhere inside him. Where is he? It’s the middle of the night, he left hours go. He feels scared. He feels sick.

It’s odd. Speculation isn't in his nature. Reaction is.

Minhyuk knows this, wraps an arm around his waist carefully. “Hyungwon-ah? Are you sure you want to do this?”

Hyungwon swallows, forces himself out of the blind panic. “Do what?” He says, voice a little too unsteady. “Have sex?”

Minhyuk sighs. “I haven't had sex in ages.”

“Me neither.”

Minhyuk turns, eyebrow raised. He’s trying to divert Hyungwon’s attention, and while, in all honesty, it’s only half working, it’s the thought that counts. Truly.

“You mean you never… you and Changkyun never…?”

It takes him a second to figure out what Minhyuk’s trying to say and when he does, he almost laughs. “Me and Changkyun? Having sex? God no. He has a serious aversion.”

Minhyuk frowns. “To sex?”

“You never noticed?” Hyungwon asks, raising an eyebrow and Minhyuk shakes his head.

“It’s not that. I just thought he was cautious.”

“You thought he was frigid.”

Minhyuk throws up his hands. “We all did at some point. That’s not what I'm saying.”

Hyungwon eyes him warily. “Sure.” He says. “Whatever. I don’t care about the sex thing. He’s fun to talk to. Agrees with everything I say, unlike you.”

“Does he really?”

Hyungwon sort of like this conversation. He’s laughing a lot more, that’s for sure.

“Have you ever actually spoken to him?” He says, only half teasing. “He’s got something to say about everything. I wish he’d just agree with everything I say. Saves me the headache and I get to think I'm right.”

Minhyuk grins. “You're just not clever.” He says. “That’s what you're getting at, isn't it? And Changkyun is. It’s fine, Hyungwon-ah. You can't be good at everything.”

“That’s right.” Hyungwon agrees. “Who needs a brain when you have good taste?”

He ends up laughing at himself but at least it takes the razor- sharp edge off of things. The hotel is coming into sight, a massive, sleek thing, done up nicely, all neon signs and screaming privilege.

It also screams danger. Screams stay away.

Hyungwon wants to stay away.

“Kind of don’t want to go in.” Minhyuk says and Hyungwon silently agrees. That makes the both of them.

It doesn't make sense. Why would Changkyun be in a place like this?

Despite their hesitation, the distance they’ve travelled is a mile too much to just turn around and leave and so against their better judgement they push the door open, a chiming bell sounding over their heads as Hyungwon pulls up the text. “Room sixty.” He says. “Floor seven.”

They travel the expanse of the floor silently, taking the elevator, a sick sort of sobriety curling between them. “It’ll be okay.” Minhyuk reassures, but his scent is kind of off which is enough to say that he’s just as afraid as Hyungwon regardless of his alpha front. The light teasing they had going on during the journey is gone. It’s just fear from here on out.

They reach the floor and then reach the room feeling nothing and everything, equally and simultaneously. It isn't nice. It’s unsettling.

“Do we knock?” Hyungwon whispers and Minhyuk shrugs. Knocks.

They wait for a moment before they hear movement, the lock clicking and the door opens to the scent of alpha and sex. Hyungwon wrinkles his nose.

Before them stands a half dressed alpha, tall and muscular and good-looking, seeming to be in his late twenties, dark eyes, intense stare. “Yes?” He says and his voice is deep. There’s a curl to his lip and it’s unnerving, almost mocking, as though he knows who they are.

“We were wondering if you know someone called Im Changkyun.” Minhyuk says, stepping forward, eyes narrowing. The two alphas glare at each other for a moment, a battle of dominance before the man smirks.

“I may know him.” He says. “Who’s asking?”

The way he says it is as though he knows.

“His hyungs.” Minhyuk says carefully and there’s a flash of recognition in his eyes. He steps back, grinning.

“Well I’ll be damned.” He says, but it’s dry, patronising. “Come in, make yourself comfortable. I'm Bae Yejun, by the way.”

“Minhyuk.” Minhyuk says. Hyungwon stays silent, following Minhyuk's lead, eyes darting around the room. It’s large, dimly lit and stinking of arousal. Yejun smiles at them again and all Hyungwon can think is that he resembles a snake baring its long, poison tipped teeth, a warning, a threat.

He wants to leave. He doesn't want to be here.

“So, Changkyun.” Yejun says. “Quite the enigma, isn't he?”

Minhyuk raises an eyebrow. “You’ve spoken to him?”

Yejun’s eyes glint again. There’s nothing friendly behind his stare. “Spoken to him? You mean you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

Yejun’s smile is malicious. There’s no halo on the top of his head, no semblance of chastity or benignity, the look in his eyes is malign and cold, glittering with some unspoken supremacy.

It’s a fact that burns going down. Set’s Hyungwon’s throat on fire like alcohol or poison.

Maybe it’s both. Maybe it’s neither.

Yejun doesn't answer, just stares for a long, silent moment, stares and stares, eyes watchful, penetrating, calculating. Malign.

Like a criminal. Like the devil.

The silence builds up into a strange sort of tension that has him shifting from foot to foot in apprehension, a sure sense of foreboding eclipsing him, chewing him up and spitting him out. Minhyuk’s hand finds his, fingers closing, grasping desperately. It means something. It means be alert.  It means don’t let your guard down.

Just when it’s clear that Minhyuk is about to speak, break the silence and give way to the tidal wreckage, a side door slides open, a bathroom obscured by the by the uneven wall. Immediately Hyungwon feels his gaze flicker to the noise. Is this a trap? Are we in danger? Minhyuk’s grip becomes tighter, breath held. The pervading scent of fear encapsulates.

“Ah.” Yejun says, looking back. “I was beginning to think you’d fallen asleep in there.”

The sound of footsteps is light on the floor, a moment of apprehension shines in the dim light and in an instant, it’s gone, replaced with an odd sort of finality, a sickening disbelief.

“Changkyun?” Hyungwon breathes out, incredulity profound in his voice. He can’t help it. This isn’t something he can comprehend.

Changkyun is slight against the hulking mass of Yejun, jeans pulled over his hips haphazardly, his torso bare, sickly thin and bruised and shining with a sheen of sweat. There’s a slant to his waist, a curve that seems almost foreign. Beneath the lights he doesn't look quite alpha. He doesn't look quite real.

This all feels hazy, like a mindless fever dream. Too bright. Too far-fetched.

His eyes widen at Hyungwon’s voice, gaze flickering between him and Minhyuk and his breaths quicken, the rise and fall of his chest shallower, faster, shaken. “Hyung.” He breaths. “Hyung, what…?”

Hyungwon shakes his head, a bitter taste exploding on his tongue. This just doesn't make sense. Why is he here? Why is Changkyun here in some slutty estate place, half naked with some stranger in a room that smells so strongly of sex?

The resentment grows. It fills him up and he overflows.

“What the fuck is this?” He whispers. Minhyuk squeezes his hand, a warning, but he’s in far too deep to just back down, to sit still, to go back to the dorms and tell himself that he never saw anything.

“Hyung.” Changkyun repeats, voice a pitch too high, laced with a streak of hysteria. His fingers shake as he curls them into fists.

Yejun glances between them, sitting down on the bed with a light frown. “So you didn’t know.” He decides.

“Know what?” Hyungwon hisses through his teeth, breaths ragged in pure frustration. He wants to know. He doesn't want to know. He doesn't want to be here.

“Me and Changkyun. We have a… a thing.” Yejun says, voice measured, emotionless, completely apathetic. “I apologise. He assured me that you were aware of his extra-curricular activities.”

“What are you talking about?” Minhyuk interrupts, eyes flashing red. Yejun puts up a hand.

“Calm down.” He says lazily. “I'm not here to have an argument.”

“What are you talking about?” Minhyuk repeats, voice a low, awful growl and Changkyun flinches back, leans against the wall, eyes downcast, breaths sharp, pained.

“We fuck.” Yejun says, waving a hand vaguely between himself and Changkyun. “I thought it was self-explanatory.”

“You're lying.” Hyungwon says, though it’s more of a desperate attempt to preserve the image he has of the younger alpha in his head. There must be some mistake. He keeps telling that to himself. “Changkyun doesn't fuck.”

Yejun raises an eyebrow. “That’s right.” He agrees. “I'm usually the one doing the fucking. Your point?”

Minhyuk growls again. “Don’t be a bastard.” He says lowly. “You know exactly what he means. Changkyun has an aversion. He doesn't do sex.”

Yejun flickers his gaze to Changkyun. “Are you sure? He seemed pretty responsive with me.” He yawns. “Maybe he doesn't have an aversion. Maybe he lied to you.”

“Changkyun doesn't lie.” Minhyuk says and Hyungwon is scared for a minute that he might end up doing something he regrets, mauling the man until he’s unrecognisable sinking sabre sharp claws into his skin and coming away red.

“Oh, Minhyuk-ah.” Yejun says with that patronising smile. “Everyone lies.”

Minhyuk doesn't get that chance to flash his claws because Hyungwon already has him by the arm, shaking his head. “Minhyuk-ah.” He whispers. “Look. Wait outside. I’ll talk to him.”

“No.” Minhyuk snarls and Hyungwon makes an impatient sound.

“I'm not asking you; I'm telling you.” He presses. “Wait outside before you do something you’ll regret.”

After a moment of arguing, he does as he’s told. Changkyun doesn't move from his corner, eyes still fixed on the ground beneath his feet and Hyungwon lets out a low, shaking breath.

Yejun is still smiling. He looks amused. “It’s good that the alpha’s gone.” He says. “We can have a proper conversation now.”

Hyungwon laughs humourlessly. “Changkyun’s an alpha too.”

Changkyun’s eyes flicker up. He looks terrified.

Yejun casts a momentary look back. The amusement morphs into something more sadistic. “Is he?” He says. “How can you be so sure?”

Hyungwon’s face twists into an expression of genuine confusion. “What do you mean? He told us, that’s how.”

Yejun tuts and Changkyun’s silence finally gives way. “Don’t listen to him, hyung.” He begs. “Please don’t. Please.”

“Here’s the thing.” Yejun says, ignoring Changkyun's desperation. “Changkyun is a very good liar.”

“No.” Changkyun whispers. He stumbles forward, dropping to his knees in front of Yejun and Hyungwon almost staggers back. It’s such an intimate, submissive position. “No, please. Stop talking. Don’t say anything else. I’ll do anything. Just stop.”

Yejun laughs. “You're doing a terrible job of being an alpha, Changkyun-ah.” He tuts. “How could anyone believe you if you go around dropping to your knees whenever something doesn't go your way?”

Changkyun looks back to Hyungwon, eyes shining with tears. “Hyung, don’t listen to him. He’s a liar.”

Hyungwon stares, speechless. His mind is completely blank. He can’t comprehend what’s happening.

“It’s not a very alpha thing to do.” Yejun goes on as though Changkyun hadn’t spoken. “Getting to your knees. Actually, it’s more-”

“No!” Changkyun gasps. “No, stop!”

“-omega.” Yejun finishes.

Hyungwon blinks. Time in itself seems to have halted to a stand-still, a dimension in which the three are the only people in existence, eyes flickering between each other in the quiet ambience of this solitary room. The outside world is a negligent inconvenience, what matters is what happens in here, the words spoken in the confines of these four walls. He blinks again. Analyses.

The results end up inconclusive.

“I don’t…” He swallows, eying Changkyun warily. “I don’t understand.”

Yejun sighs, rolls his eyes, leaning back lazily. “What can you possibly not understand?” He says, bored. “I've laid all the pieces out for you. All you need to do is put them together.”

Maybe he already knows what he’s getting at. Maybe he just doesn't want to believe it.

“Hyung.” Changkyun is just so pitiful. “Why won’t you listen to me? He’s lying to you! He’s trying to manipulate you!”

Hyungwon bites his lip. Looks away.

Yejun rolls his eyes. “This is your own fault really, Changkyun-ah.” He says with a shrug. “You shouldn’t have lied to them in the first place. You’ve already told them so many lies, what’s to say you won’t tell one more?”

When Hyungwon glances at Changkyun his eyes are wide and awfully hollow, the tragedy of betrayal etched all over his face, shoulders slumped forwards, head bowed. It’s not that I don’t believe you, he wants to say, but it sounds wrong in his own ears.

You don’t trust him. A voice whispers in his ears, sounding suspiciously like his own. You don’t trust him because lied. You don’t trust him because he said he was going to the company and instead he’s here, sweat soaked and kneeling in front of a man who you don’t even know. In front of a man who’s saying he’s slept with him and he can't even deny it.

Hyungwon takes a breath. He doesn't trust him. He doesn't trust himself.

“Are you saying you didn’t sleep with him?” Hyungwon whispers and something inside him crawls. Tell me he’s wrong, Changkyun-ah. Tell me he’s lying and I’ll turn away from him and take you with me. I’ll believe you if you say no with enough conviction. I don’t want this to be the truth either.

Yejun’s eyes flash. His lips curl as he looks down at Changkyun. Changkyun who won’t look up. Who’s hands still shake.

The evidence is screaming against him. He could never have been able to deny it.

“I…” Changkyun chokes on his words. “I don’t…”

Yejun shakes his head. “Did you hear him or not, Changkyun-ah?” He whispers. “This is a yes or no question. One syllable either way. You either slept with me or you didn’t.”

He speaks with too much confidence. It’s all the answer Hyungwon needs.

“Why?” He says, moving forward. “Why did you have to be so… so underhand about it? You could have just told us! Fuck, we have plenty of other alphas to go around if that’s what you wanted! Why like this, Changkyun? Why did it have to be like this?”

Changkyun doesn't answer. There are tears on his face, a glisten in the moonlight.

A betrayal.

“Oh, he would never have slept with any of you.” Yejun says in his lazy drawl. “It would have given everything away.”

Hyungwon feels a flicker of anger. “What the fuck do you keep going on about?”

Yejun raises a brow. “Sex.” He says with a wave of his fingers. “Once you're naked there’s nowhere to hide really, is there?”

Hyungwon thinks he understands. He doesn't know. He doesn't want to know. Things still feel a little too blurred, a hazy edge, a dream like quality. This isn't happening. It’s happening.

“Tell me, ‘Changkyun’s beta hyung’.” Yejun starts and Hyungwon huffs.

“It’s Hyungwon.” He says and Yejun grins, wide, slow, teeth sharp. Like a tiger. Or a leopard, or a lion.

Or a wolf.

“Okay.” He says. “Tell me, Hyungwon-ah. Have you ever seen an omega naked?”

Hyungwon feels a dusting of red touch his cheeks. Shame? Embarrassment? “No.” He says. Yejun nods, eyes looking him up and down, a purely analytical, scientific gaze, no lingering or hesitation. Contemplating. Considering.

“You’ve seen an alpha though.” He says. “And you’ve seen yourself.”

Hyungwon’s face twists in confusion. “Your point?”

Yejun sits forward, reaches out to touch Changkyun who flinches very slightly but doesn't protest against it. He’s still slumped. The fight seems to have left him.

“My point.” Yejun draws out. “Is about biology. Anatomy. Could you pass as an alpha, Hyungwon-ah?”

Hyungwon blinks. “That depends.” He says slowly. “I could. Maybe.”

“Most likely.” Yejun says carelessly. “If you had, I don’t know… a scent blocker, some artificial scent… a complete disregard for your own physical health. You absolutely could. Anyone could. That is, until you take your clothes off. Am I right?”

“I…I suppose.”

Yejun grins again. “And why is that?”

Hyungwon feels himself stammer to a halt, his face flaming, hot with quite legitimate shame. “Because.” He says, quite at loss. “Because of biology and stuff. Anatomy and shit. You know.”

“That’s right, I know.” Yejun says. “But I want you to say it.”

Hyungwon rolls his eyes. He’s getting tired of standing. “Okay.” He says with a shrug. “It’s simple stuff anyway. An alpha can knot. They have big dicks. All the good stuff. Betas are more… average. No knots. Normal dicks. Blah blah.”

Yejun laughs. It’s quiet, not loud or raucous and somehow it’s more terrifying than his wild, crazed, maniacal laughter. “You're right.” He says softly. “Absolutely right. You could be whatever you wanted until you’re naked. There’s not much you can hide when all you can see is skin.” He laughs again. A little louder. “But you know that, don’t you? You’ve seen plenty of alphas. Plenty of betas. There’s a difference between them, sure, but if you really, really wanted to, you could pass as an alpha, even when you're stripped down. But that isn't the point.”

Hyungwon grits his teeth. “Are you going to fucking get on with it then? What's the point?”

Yejun smiles mildly. “Has anyone ever told you you're too pretty to have such a filthy mouth?”

Hyungwon casts a glance to the door where he knows Minhyuk is standing, waiting, biting his lip and shuffling his feet in apprehension. “Probably.” Is all he says.

Still smiling, Yejun continues. “Omegas are much more interesting.” He says, almost whispers, fingers stroking the back of Changkyun’s neck. “Their bodies. Once you take their clothes off, they can masquerade all they like. They could never be anything more than an omega. But you wouldn’t know that, would you?”

“No.” Hyungwon says, uncertain. “I suppose I wouldn’t.”

“They're softer than alphas.” Yejun says helpfully in that same, quiet drawl. “As soon as they get it up there’s slick running down their legs. No need for lube. They make this purring sort of noise, you know? And they have, ah… the right parts to get pregnant.”

Hyungwon shifts uncomfortably. “Why are you telling me this?” He says. Yejun doesn't answer, he lets go of Changkyun who leans forward on his hands, head hanging low, swaying alarmingly.

“Changkyun-ah.” He reprises. “Get up. Come on.”

Changkyun doesn't move and Yejun curses under his breath. He shoves his hands under Changkyun’s armpits and hoists him up to his knees as though he weighs nothing. “Changkyun.” He says. “Don’t pass out yet. We’re just getting to the interesting part.”

No answer, only a low murmur, a sort of keening voice coming from between his teeth. Yejun hums, hand coming up to cup his jaw, shaking his head with a small tut. “Changkyunnie.” He says, sings really, a morbid, trilling tune. “I’m going to tell your hyung the secret~”

“You wouldn’t.” Changkyun slurs, eyes fluttering and Hyungwon finds himself incapacitated, unable to move, staring with a dawning, sickening sense of horror.

“What’s wrong with him?” He whispers and Yejun looks up at him, brow raised.

“You haven't gathered?” He asks, grinning. “Even you should know about this one, Hyungwon-ah.”

He can't think past Changkyun’s limp figure in Yejun’s arms, can’t form coherent enough thoughts to establish any kind of relevant understanding. This whole night is like a horror show in which this room is the stage and it’s about to go up in flames.

“It has a reprehensible name.” Yejun carries on. “You don’t have to know to know, you get me? What is it again, Changkyun-ah?”

“Don’t.” Changkyun heaves. “Don’t say it.”

“Oh yes. I remember now.” Yejun looks up, ignoring Changkyun completely. “The omega heat cycle.”

It slams into him. He gets hit with some drugged-up form of vertigo, the world tilting on its axis spinning round and round like a coin on table.

Heads or tails?

“That’s not possible.” Hyungwon breathes. “Changkyun’s an alpha.”

Yejun frowns, tilts his head in mock contemplation. “He never did like to get dressed around you, did he? Didn’t really like those changing room showers. Didn’t want to have sex. Didn’t you ever think why?”

“He has an aversion.” Hyungwon says, but his voice is faint, far away. Fading out of existence.

“It’s a convenient excuse.” Yejun agrees. “Hiding in plain sight is always so… admirable. I have an aversion, he says. Who’s going to question him? Not you, obviously. The thing that could compromise everything, the one thing that could break everything into little pieces and scatter them at his feet. You wouldn’t ever expect it would you?”

Hyungwon stumbles back. No distance is far enough between them.

“You wouldn’t expect that it would be something so filthy. Who would’ve thought that his whole career could be put on the line because of what’s in his pants?”

“He’s not.” Hyungwon struggles. “He’s not-”

“Oh, but he is.” Yejun grins and his mouth is a blood-dripping weapon filled with sharp, sharp teeth. “You would never have even considered it, would you? The possibility of it. The fact that your rugged little alpha is actually a sweet little omega.”

Changkyun doesn't know how to explain this feeling.

Fact: He’s on the floor, his hands shake and he isn't sure if it’s from the drugs or the heat, maybe a mixture of both, maybe it’s from the weapon between Yejun’s fingers, the gun he figuratively has pressed against Changkyun’s temple and the wicked tongue which sits past his lips, forked and long like a snake or a devil or the incarnate of evil itself.

Either way he’s shaking and he can't stop. Hyungwon’s behind him and he’s shaking too, a whole-body racking sort of thing, teeth clicking together and a small noise humming in his throat. Changkyun doesn't know why Hyungwon’s shaking. Maybe it’s for the same reason Yejun is smiling so widely and Changkyun half wants to tell the man to close his mouth, half wants to tell him that he’s dripping blood all over the carpet, that his mouth is stained red and if he doesn't do something about that soon, they might have a problem.

He’s only half lucid. He can't tell what’s real and what’s not. Is he really here? Does he really exist?

Hyungwon’s talking, he’s saying something but Changkyun isn't sure what- the words blur together against the force of gravity and nature, get lost somewhere in the space between them, merge together and amplify, louder, bigger, bolder, thoughts which are so vivid that they think themselves into a sickening reality and become almost too profound for comprehension.

The essence of his words, however, can be at least inferred. Spitting vowels and harsh consonants. A raging fury in the darkness of the night.

Yejun laughs in response. There’s never anything vague about him. All of his words somehow filter through, all of that filth and the cold calculation, the sweet lilt encapsulating the devil of a man and creating an entirely faux pretence, softening his own edges, drawing himself out. Making himself the prince of the fairy tale.

“Why would I lie? What would I get out of lying? I understand if you're having a hard time processing this, Hyungwon-ah. I’ll give you a moment to collect your thoughts if that’s what you want but please, don’t for a moment think I'm getting any pleasure out of this. I'm truly sorry that you had to find out this way.”

Fact: Yejun is lying.

Fact: He’s enjoying this. He’s enjoyed digging Changkyun’s grave and he’ll enjoy piling the dirt back onto his rotting corpse.

Fact: Changkyun will never stop running. He’ll always be looking over his shoulder.

Fact: Yejun will get paid for ruining what’s left of Changkyun's life.

He’s already laughing. He already knows he’s getting that cheque tonight.

Hyungwon is talking again. What is he saying? A muffled whisper. A cry of helplessness. I'm sorry, Changkyun wants to say. I know you don’t want to be here.

Why is he apologising? He doesn't want to be here either. He didn’t ask for this. He didn’t deserve this.

Right? He didn’t deserve any of this right?

Yejun laughs again. It’s loud, grating in his ears. “I can show you if you want.” His voice drops to a whisper. “Do you want to see, Hyungwon-ah? Do you want me to show you?”

“No.”

Hyungwon’s voice pierces through the veil, a knife sharp edge to carve out the filthy superabundance and feed Changkyun’s poor, aching frame with something other than prayers and promises of redemption which fall through, all hollowed out and full of nothing but empty air. Where did he get that knife from? What did Hyungwon have to trade in order to be heard?

Fact: Hyungwon is afraid. It’s clear in his voice, a tender edge, his scent is cold and pervading and ringed with something brutally desperate.

Fact: Hyungwon believes Yejun, even if he says he doesn't.

Fact: He doesn't trust Changkyun within an inch of his life.

“Hyung.” He manages through the haze of drugs clouding his perceptions. “I don’t know what to say to you. I don’t know why you're still listening to him.”

Illusion: Changkyun will get out of this untouched.

“Isn't it obvious, Changkyun-ah?” Yejun says, fingers closing around his jaw, staring directly into his glazed eyes. “He doesn't know who you are anymore.”

And what can he say to that but plead not-guilty?

He feels his fingers curl around the soft fabric of Yejun’s sweatpants. He can hear a clock ticking somewhere to his right, a steady noise, tick, tick, tick, tick. He doesn't remember how he got here. He doesn't know what time it is- how long he’s been kneeling on this floor, the cold laminate stinging his knees, a collateral ache striking a match within him as he gasps for air. He doesn't know what happened here. What's happening here.

He kind of wants to look up at Yejun, look up at him and tell him with a malign cruelty sitting on the tip of the tongue that fuck man, even I don’t know who I am anymore.

There’s a hollow sort of silence which has only just registered to him, a stillness streaked though with anticipation and he blinks, tilting his head. Are they waiting for him to say something? Did someone ask him a question? He’s losing his grip on the ever-fading tangibility of the present. There are gaps in his memory, a faint, whispery kind of thing that bares its teeth at him and just grins.

Illusion: Changkyun is not at fault. Changkyun is good.

“Hyung.” He breathes. “Take me back. Please take me back.”

Please. Please.

Yejun laughs. Why is he laughing? This isn't funny. It rings in his ears, reverberates through his head and echoes off of the walls, lingers in the space between them and leaves the air smelling filthy and metallic.

He doesn't remember waking up this morning.

God, why is he here? He can't remember. He can't fucking remember. Is it his fault? Did he do something wrong?

“Take you back? Did you hit your head, Changkyun-ah? There isn't a place for you anymore. The space you took up was meant for an alpha and baby, you wouldn’t know alpha if it fucked you sideways and blew your brains out.”

Fact: Yejun isn't lying. He isn't lying. He’s telling the truth.

Changkyun's fingers fall away. His face crumples. “Hyung.” His voice is choked as it struggles up his throat. “You have to take me back, hyung.”

You have to. I have nowhere else to go.

Does Hyungwon reply? Does he say something? His words are all muffled again which means he took back whatever he gave away. He belongs to himself again.

“Changkyun.” Yejun speaks through gritted teeth. “What don’t you understand? They don’t fucking want you. You're unclean and you're an omega. What makes you think they want someone else’s sloppy leftovers? You shouldn’t have let another alpha touch you if you wanted to be desirable. You’ve really made sure that no one could ever want you.”

But… but that’s not right. Is it? He didn’t let anyone touch him. How can he be held responsible for the actions of someone else? Someone else’s hands which dirtied him- shouldn’t they be the ones who no one wants?

Fact: Changkyun is an omega.

Fact: Changkyun isn't clean.

Fact: No one could ever want him after finding out what he is.

How does Yejun know he’s an omega? Did… did Changkyun tell him? Why would he do something like that?

Wait, no. The CEO. Bits come back to him. Nothing significant enough; nothing to ease the weight on his shoulders.

He turns to Hyungwon, tries his tender luck.

“Is it… is what he’s saying true?” He can barely choke the words out. It’s as though a hand has closed around his throat, a tight, tenuous grip, baring a set of razor-sharp teeth and hissing in his face, speak. “H…hyung. Is it true? Is it…?”

His words are sloppy, slurred to the point of near incoherency, the drug screaming fire, lucrative in his veins. He feels a hand on his shoulder and without meaning to, he flinches, eyes widening, breath catching in his throat.

Tip your head back- don’t don’t close your eyes- hurts hurts hurts everything hurts veins on fire head pounding- so much pain so much- okay stop- what are you doing Changkyun-ah? - don’t struggle stay still let them have their way- let them ruin you let them let them let them- okay okay keep your eyes open- someone’s talking who’s talking? – wake up Changkyun-ah- you'll never escape- we’ll always find you- we’ll always know where you are- you'll always belong to us-

“— how it looks, Changkyun.”

He blinks. What happened? What did he miss? How much time has he lost? Where… where did he go?

“Did you get all of that, Changkyun-ah?” Yejun’s voice is so quiet, only meant to be heard by him. “He’s done with you.”

God, I know you're fucking lying! Changkyun wants to scream. You're lying! You're lying, he cares, he cares, he told me! You're lying! You're just a fucking liar!

His mind alters the slots for him. He can't distinguish between what’s real and what’s a figment of his imagination. Yejun… Yejun could be telling the truth. He could be. He could…

He tries to speak, opens his mouth but nothing comes out, the concepts of space and time stop right where he’s sitting on the cold laminate floor, his hands come up to his throat, the words get stuck somewhere in his chest where the pulse of his heart beats them away and anything that escapes gets swallowed up by the vastness of the universe in comparison to him and his infinite aches which keep him awake at night. He sucks in a breath, his vision swimming before him, the colours merging together, objects disintegrating until they're only particles, a mess of atoms and molecules and light hitting the surface at an angle incident to the amount of pain which has been consuming him for as long as he remembers.

Does he love the people who dare to get close to him? He’s sure that the parts of him which were able to love got torn out of him when he was just a child, a pair of gleaming claws and two red eyes and a voice telling him that love is pollution.

At least, he thinks that’s what was said. Maybe the words were your love is a pollution. It would be true- it would be cathartic.

It would be a blessing- would be symbolic.

Yejun bares his teeth. There is murder in his eyes.

It’s been there all night.

“Do you want to go, Changkyun-ah?” His voice is sugar sweet, artificial like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, too soft, too much. “Or do you want to stay with me? I know we planned to meet up again next week but I already told you, if you want to see me earlier, all you have to do is call. You’ve got my number. I've got yours. This doesn't need to end just because a little beta decided he would bark a bit to try and preserve your dignity. You can't get rid of me that easily, baby.”

You can't get rid of-

No. No, no. Gone gone I want you gone- stay away please don’t- please- it… it hurts, it hurts so much- so much pain- fingers on him inside him- dirty dirty dirty- the mirror in the bathroom- who’s that on the other side? – he doesn't recognise himself- he doesn't… an omega, an omega an omega- no, no alpha fuck I'm an alpha- I'm not I'm not the other one I'm not- please stop please- stop stop stop- back hurts sweat sticking to skin- fingers shaking- ow, fuck it fucking hurts- can't breathe can't breathe can't fucking breathe- we’re only doing this because we love you- smile at the camera- we love you we’ll never let you go- you can't run from us- all we need is one chance- one chance- you’ll never escape we’ll always find you-

-can't breathe can't breathe can't breathe can't-

A hand touches his skin, he recoils, eyes widening, a whimper in his throat, “Please, please, no.”

A hand in his hair, soft, tender, gentle, “Shh, it’s okay, you're okay”- what time is it? What did he miss? Did he leave again? Did he…? What happened?

Cold air- he has a shirt on? Someone dressed him? He’s walking, he can hear his shoes on the pavement- his shoes? No, wait, he’s not walking he’s being carried he can hear someone else, someone-? There’s a scent an… an alpha it’s an alpha.

Did they find him? Did they see him kicked down, did Yejun call them?

God, did they know him all along? Did they always know where he was? Were they… were they laughing at him for thinking himself so clever, hiding in plain sight, playing alpha while they were out there planning what they’d do with him when they got him? Are they going to take him back now? Are they going to… are they…?

“—too fast. Put him down, here, help me…”

Alpha? Alpha, alpha, alpha??

“C’mon, Changkyunnie. Breathe for me, baby, come on. You're okay. It’s me, look. It’s Minhyuk. We’re taking you back. Look at me. Look.”

Min… Minhyuk? Where did he come from? What’s happening? What…? He doesn't understand. A light hand touches his face. He sees it coming but he still flinches. Don’t touch me, don’t touch me, don’t-

“—hyperventilating.”

He blinks up. Everything is too bright. He isn't here. He isn't anywhere.

“—not responding. Should we call a-”

He can't breathe. It won’t reach his lungs. In, out, in, out. Is this it? Is he… is he dying?

“—you talk, Kyunnie? Can you hear me? Nod if you-”

A hand on his shoulder. He’s barely awake. He doesn't react. The hand moves to the back of his neck, moves him forward, guides him- what, where? Where is he…? Oh, he leans against a narrow shoulder, cheek on a soft fabric. Hand touches his hair, his nose touches a scent gland, he inhales, he inhales he-

Hyungwon. He’s safe. He must be.

Breathing. In, out, in, out, in, out. Easier to breathe.

Minhyuk. Hyungwon. Safe, safe, safe.

Fact: He got out. He’s safe.

+

Hyungwon steps over the threshold and clinks the lock shut after closing the door. Changkyun is limp in Minhyuk's arms, chest rising and falling slowly as he’s taken into a bedroom and lowered onto an empty bed.

Dawn peeks over the horizon and Hyungwon feels a resounding numbness thrum through his hollow frame. He tries desperately to divert his thoughts, to think of something, anything else but it’s a hopeless endeavour. His mind relays back to the glint in Yejun’s eyes, the man’s quiet voice, the glassiness in Changkyun's gaze and the word omega stark like a brand over his chest.

Look, Hyungwon isn't angry at Changkyun for being an omega, he’s just angry that he didn’t find out from Changkyun himself. Angry that he was sleeping with someone else without asking. Angry for so many reasons but none of them because of what Changkyun is.

He tried to say as much but Changkyun had been so far in his own head that it hadn’t mattered what he said, it didn’t remove the sheen of sweat or the unseeing eyes and it didn’t undo how Changkyun had flinched at his touch, had breathed so frantically, clawed at his throat with tears in his eyes, mouth opening with no words coming out except please and no and sorry, sorry, sorry.

And… and it’s not that Hyungwon doesn't forgive him either- he does, okay? He does, it’s just that, fuck, an explanation would have been nice, a word of warning maybe, something, anything to lessen the blow.

Which is only half of his problem of course, the other half being what the hell does he tell Minhyuk. He can't betray Changkyun’s implicit trust, he can't, he knows that- but he also knows that things are different now that he knows that Changkyun isn't an alpha- he can't help how the fact screams in his face. He can see it in the slenderness of Changkyun's body, the curve of his waist the hint of sweetness beneath the scent blocker which has to be messing his hormones up, the wariness, the distrust, the fear, the fear, the fear.

He can't tell Minhyuk but god, does he want to. The secret is dead weight on his chest, it presses down and restricts his breathing and he swears he’s choking on it. He’s like a fish out of water, way, way out of his depth.

“Hyungwon-ah?” Minhyuk’s voice is a tender thing in the riot of daybreak. He flickers his gaze up, chest heaving. Minhyuk's eyes are soft as he steps forward, cupping Hyungwon's face in his palms, brows furrowed very slightly in contemplation. He’s different than most alphas, he isn't so physically strong as he is fiercely protective, wide eyed gazes and gentle touches and raging fury against the cold of winter. “What is it?” Minhyuk whispers. “You can tell me. I promise I won’t tell anyone else.”

And okay, it’s a nice implication but that’s all it is because Hyungwon can't tell anyone else either. He worries his bottom lip for long enough the he can taste the copper of blood and Minhyuk is smoothening out the frown between his brows, his scent tentative as he presses close. Hyungwon takes a deep breath.

“We’re not telling anyone else about tonight.” He says, trying to sound firm and Minhyuk shrugs easily.

“I wasn’t planning to. Look, Hyungwon, I don’t know what that guy said to you but we need to trust Changkyun. If... if Changkyun says it wasn’t what it looked like then-”

“He didn’t say that.” Hyungwon says tonelessly. “It’s pretty clear that they fucked.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. But we know Changkyun too, right? Don’t make any more assumptions. We should talk to him first, get angry after.”

“Right. Yeah, okay. Fuck, listen, Hyungwon-ah. I'm not… I have a weird feeling about this. Something’s not right. I don’t know, can you feel it too? There’s something else. Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t get involved.”

Hyungwon shakes his head insistently. “No.” He says, stepping back. “No, I'm sorry, Minhyuk-ah, I'm not just going to stand back. He was with another man. What if someone else finds out and then realises that we knew and didn’t do anything? That makes us just as bad. It’s called cheating, Minhyuk. Put it into perspective. Fuck how much we care about him. I'm being realistic here.”

Minhyuk bites his lip but nods in agreement, casting a wary glance at Changkyun and taking a shuddering breath. “I wish we never went.” He murmurs. “I wish we fucking stayed here.”

“Yeah, well. We were being good people. He could’ve been in trouble.”

“I guess. Is Hoseok hyung fucking some other girl?”

Hyungwon blinks, thrown off by the question. “How did you-?”

“Just answer me.”

He can't lie. He can't. Minhyuk will just sniff it out. “Not anymore. He was. We said he could.”

“You didn’t ask me.”

“No, I suppose we didn’t.”

“That was me inviting you to tell me why you thought forgoing my opinion would be a good idea.”

“And that was me saying I don’t have to tell you why. Come on, Minhyuk-ah, cut me some slack. Let me get some sleep before asking me these kinds of questions. I need time to come up with a clever answer.”

The response is a small huff and Hyungwon tries for a smile, leaning forwards and licking into Minhyuk’s mouth, eliciting a low, satisfied hum. A diversion tactic sure, but an efficient one. They're pressed up against each other anyway and it only takes a second for Minhyuk to take Hyungwon's bottom lip into his mouth and suck on it so hard that he feels his legs give out and his mind goes blank- or at least almost blank because there’s still that bold black word omega branded behind his eyes that really just won’t go away. Minhyuk noses against his scent gland, sucking and kissing and biting very lightly and Hyungwon is gasping in response because fuck, Minhyuk is good at this- but he can't get lost in it because of that one sobering thought which has a noose grip around his throat and won’t let him go.

He hesitates for a moment, moves back minutely and Minhyuk frowns, looks up at him, tilting his head, “What?” He says. “What is it? You want to stop?”

But no, no, that’s not it. He doesn't want to stop, fuck, if anything it’s the opposite. “No.” He says through gritted teeth. “No, I want… I need to forget. Make me forget.”

Minhyuk grins, his teeth sabre sharp. He latches back onto Hyungwon’s mouth, inhales as their lips touch, a slow, cool breath splaying out between them as Minhyuk moulds out the shape of Hyungwon’s lips, slowly first, taking his time until Hyungwon threads his fingers through Minhyuk's hair and pulls it hard earning a low groan which incites a wicked spark.

Minhyuk's fingers splay low on his waist, one of his hands coming up to thumb against his cheek as he bites down hard on Hyungwon’s lip before sucking on it to ease the stab of pain which sends a shock of want to his dick. Minhyuk’s breath is warm over his lips as he licks back into Hyungwon’s mouth, tongue darting forward, hot and wet and dizzying as it flicks over his teeth, presses in sinfully and Hyungwon sucks on it, eyes fluttering closed as they grind against each other.

Minhyuk moans, pushing his teeth back into Hyungwon’s bottom lip, harder than before as though he’s trying to draw blood and Hyungwon arches into it, hisses quietly, moans, loud, filthy as Minhyuk guides them to the couch, lays him over it and climbs on top, kissing the base of his neck, biting down at the tender skin before he sucks at it. Hyungwon gasps, fists bunching into soft fabric as Minhyuk nips at his scent glands sending a shot of numbing bliss through the entirety of his being. Minhyuk grinds down again, fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt, kissing a trail down and looking up, lips tugging into a smirk before he licks over Hyungwon’s nipple, letting it become hard beneath his tongue, lapping it up, sucking and biting, dragging his teeth over it until it’s bright red and swollen and tingling with something which sets his nerves on fire. Hyungwon can't help the whines which leave his lips, his hands come up to Minhyuk’s face, tangle in his hair and squeeze every time he bites too hard until the skin is sensitive and throbbing, emitting low pulses of pain which make him strain in his pants.

Minhyuk finishes on the first and starts on the second, slow, laborious and Hyungwon grits his teeth, hips bucking up with incessant want, a whimper falling between his lips as he sucks in a sharp breath, “Please,” He moans. “Minhyuk-ah, Minhyuk, touch me, please. C’mon, c’mon fuck me, fuck me hard, I need you, I need you in me.”

Minhyuk hushes him with a low growl of, “Be patient,” which is enough to have him jerking up and crying out every time Minhyuk’s teeth touch his skin which is red and raw- there is nothing soft in the way Minhyuk ravishes him, it’s all rough around the edges, drawn blood and swollen skin and pain which makes him feel alive. Minhyuk knows he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He’s already panting by the time Minhyuk takes his own shirt off, throwing it to the side and leaning forward, pushing his palm into Hyungwon’s dick and watching as he cries out, arching up, head spinning as he babbles, words all slurred with want, “Yes, yes, yes, touch me, touch me, please,” and Minhyuk smiles, eyes half lidded, sultry as he undoes Hyungwon’s belt and opens the button of his jeans, slowly grinding against him before pulling the rest of his clothes off completely, leaving him naked and painfully hard, chest bitten red and raw as he breathes in raggedly, gazing up and Minhyuk in desperation.

“Fuck me.” He whispers with a strong sort of assuredness. “Minhyuk-ah, Minhyuk, just fuck me raw, baby, please. I need it, I need it I don’t… I don’t care if it hurts just please, please.”

Minhyuk’s eyes flash for a second before shucking out of his jeans, eying Hyungwon up with a predatory sort of lust. “It’ll hurt like a bitch.” He warns. “You know how much it’ll hurt if I don’t-”

“I don’t care.” Hyungwon all but sobs. “I want it to hurt. I want it. Come on, fuck, please just hurry up.”

Minhyuk doesn't wait another second, hands closing around the softness at Hyungwon’s waist, fingers digging into the bone as he lifts his hips up, lining himself up before pressing forwards all at once.

Hyungwon hears himself gasp. He’s tighter than usual after having forgone sex for the better part of a month and he hasn’t been fucked raw since the last time he slept with Minhyuk which was- hell, he can't even remember. The pain- the pain is something he couldn’t quite replicate in any other way apart from this, Minhyuk thrusts into him which makes him gasp again, tears prick behind his eyes and a sob works its way past his throat, he has his hands tight in Minhyuk’s hair, pulling hard at he strands as Minhyuk holds his hips securely, biting his lip as he thrusts again and again, the pain outweighs the pleasure, he isn't so much moaning as he is crying out and Minhyuk falters once or twice but he shakes his head.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop- faster, Minhyuk, c’mon, faster.”

And Minhyuk grits his teeth and fucks him into the couch, his tears mix in with the sweat, Minhyuk finds his sweet spot and thrusts against it until the pain and pleasure mingle together into a resounding buzz, a hum in his ears which makes his vision go white- Minhyuk is panting hard, grunting slightly, his voice low and thick and intoxicating, “You look so beautiful, you look amazing,” and at some point it disintegrates to, “You fucking bitch, you bitch, you bitch,” and Hyungwon gets off on it, his lips curl into a smile as he tilts his head back, “Whose bitch, baby?”

And Minhyuk doesn't have to answer because he knows, he thrusts in hard, so hard that Hyungwon sees stars, his teeth stop gritting together from pain and instead he’s moaning, hips curving up as the angle changes, the thrust becomes shallower, faster, he changes the angle so that each movement presses into him, thick and heavy and laced with a mind numbing pain, a sweetness which makes him sick as he throbs and cries out and moans. “Oh god.” He sobs. “Fuck, please, harder,” and Minhyuk bites at the curve of his hip in response, snarls out, “Shut the fuck up,” which only makes him want it more.

Harder, deeper, so much pain, his whole body is burning and a coil of nausea twists in his stomach. He gasps out laboured breaths, fingers closing around Minhyuk's cheek, “Let me ride you,” He slurs out, “Let me… just let me, yeah?” And Minhyuk looks at him sceptically, slowing down for a second, hands closing around his thighs, “You sure you're gonna be able to keep yourself up, baby?”

In response, Hyungwon grasps at Minhyuk's waist and flips them so that he’s on top. His legs are weak beneath him but the leverage will give him a new angle to work with so he sucks in a breath before lowering himself down, his hole already achingly abused as he hisses out, sitting himself down to Minhyuk's balls, allowing the alphas quiet moan before moving, carefully at first, establishing a smooth rhythm, rocking up and down as Minhyuk's fingers press bruises to his hips and his thighs, fingernails digging into the soft skin and drawing blood. Hyungwon arches his back, slams down hard and repeats the movement, precum beading at the tip of his dick as he closes his eyes, breathes in jaggedly, pushes himself up and presses back down with a numbing amount of force. Minhyuk is making a noise which is halfway between a groan of bliss and a cry of pain and it draws a wicked grin onto Hyungwon's face, he grinds down roughly and sucks in a breath, eyes flickering to Minhyuk's face, “I'm almost there, I'm gonna-”

And Minhyuk makes an odd noise, hand coming up, closing around his dick and pressing down against its base, “No,” He says gratingly, “You're not.”

Hyungwon feels his eyes blow open in shock, the dominance sends a shiver down his back as Minhyuk thrusts up once, “Carry on,” He says, so Hyungwon does, his legs shake and he can barely keep himself up, his body rippling, mind blanking out every few seconds as his dick throbs, muscles convulsing every time Minhyuk's dick presses into him. He pants, leaning his cheek against the head of the couch and Minhyuk flips them again, eyes narrowing as he draws back, “I need some water,” He says lightly, “I’ll be right back.”

And Hyungwon knows exactly what he’s doing, he squirms uncomfortably as his dick aches for release, his body feels hollowed out as he tries to even out his breathing, swallowing hard, his length slick with precum as he begs himself to wait, to hold on, he closes his eyes and squeezes his hands into white knuckled fists, mind buzzing with something foreign as he shivers in anticipation. Minhyuk is gone seven- no, eight minutes and he comes back dark eyed, his scent heavy with incessant want. He takes in Hyungwon's form, fingers curling up pulsing dick, ignoring the whine which the action elicits. “Ready to carry on?” He says and Hyungwon nods, a small sob escaping his lips as Minhyuk lifts his hips and pushes in shallowly, teasingly, without any real force. Hyungwon makes a small noise, tilts his head back, his face wet with tears, body racking with sobs as Minhyuk grins down at him, teasing, teasing, teasing for what feels like ages before he surges forward, presses in his whole length roughly, carelessly and Hyungwon blacks out for a second.

Only for a second because he comes back to himself and Minhyuk is still fucking him with longer strokes this time, his pace somewhere between not too slow but not exactly fast either. He moves one hand forward, nudging two slender fingers against Hyungwon's lips, “Suck,” He orders and without a second’s hesitation, Hyungwon laps them up, closes his lips around them and sucks lightly, wrapping his tongue around their lengths and grazing the skin with his teeth. Minhyuk quickens the pace minutely, waits a minute before thrusting in harder, faster, stops, waits, harder, faster and Hyungwon feels drawn out, strung up taut like an elastic band waiting to snap. This takes the edge off of the need of drugs, dilutes the fear which presses against his skin parasitically and leaves him raw and filthy, a primitive version of himself.

He grasps Minhyuk's wrist, sucking hard on his two fingers, tongue flickering out, warm and hot against the cool skin, teeth biting into them, lightly first and then harder, hard enough that Minhyuk hisses and Hyungwon sucks on them again, tries for a sweet smile around his hand, cheeks hollowing out filthily as he makes an obscenely satisfied sound in an ineffective attempt to divert his thoughts from his persistent need to cum. Minhyuk strokes the length of his dick, extracting his spit soaked fingers and pulling out from inside of him, instead using his fingers, teasing in again, curling his fingers inside and pressing at his sweet spot. Hyungwon sobs loudly.

“I can't.” He says. “Minhyuk-ah, I can't, please. Let me, let me come, let me, please, touch me, touch me.” And finally, Minhyuk complies, leans forwards and takes Hyungwon's dick into his mouth, tongue pressing at the tip as he sucks at it hard, licking up its length, fingers still curled inside him and it only takes a few moments before he’s undone, already too tightly drawn out. Hyungwon lets out a sharp cry, black dotting his vision and then he’s coming hot inside Minhyuk's mouth, body shuddering as he gasps, back arching, fingers shaking from the buzz as Minhyuk draws back, a small smile on his face as he cups Hyungwon's cheek.

After a second in which he comes back to himself, Hyungwon sits up, chest rising and falling rapidly as he kisses Minhyuk's neck, fingers wrapping around the alphas still hard dick. He rubs at the head, fingers becoming sticky with precum as he traces the length once, giving a shallow jerk which elicits a small hiss. He palms at Minhyuk's balls, rolls them between the curve of his fingers and Minhyuk clutches at Hyungwon's shoulders, eyes wide, almost fever bright. Hyungwon runs up the length again, thumbing at the slit and jerking it harder, once, twice, setting a rhythm, the slickness of precum helping him slide over easier as he squeezes the head of his dick, running his fingers from tip to base. Minhyuk groans appreciatively and Hyungwon sucks in a breath before fucking the dick into his fist hard and fast and Minhyuk tips his head back, hands flexing and relaxing with the movement until he’s panting, moaning, breaths hitching, “Don’t stop, don’t you dare fucking stop,” and he doesn't until Minhyuk is spilling out between his fingers and slumping against him, lips latching onto his scent gland and worrying at the skin.

After a moment of comfortable silence in which Minhyuk sits between Hyungwon's legs, head on his shoulder pressing feather light kisses to his neck, arms wrapped around his waist.

“Was it enough?” Minhyuk's voice is quiet, thick, intoxicating. “Are you distracted?”

Hyungwon feels himself laugh. His eyes are ringed red from the tears, puffed up and swollen and he brushes back Minhyuk's sweat soaked hair from his face, “I love you so fucking much, y’know?” His voice breaks on the word love and Minhyuk's arms tighten around him.

“You don’t have to say it so helplessly.” He says softly. “Don’t you know I love you too?”

+

It’s bright, too bright when Changkyun wakes. He’s in a bed- his bed? No, not his bed. This bed it… it smells, has a scent- what scent? Alpha scent, heavy, tired. Is he… is he alone? He turns onto his back, everything hurts-

-alone, yes. But… but only just. Someone was here. Someone just left.

Who? He knows this scent, he’s sure he does but he can't… can't place it. He sits up. Too bright. Everything hurts. His vision still swims, it hurts to sit down. His pants are soaked with… what? What is- oh. Oh. Slick. So much slick running down his legs. Is he in heat? He must be. He must be but why didn’t… why didn’t someone tell him? He’s in an alphas bed. Did he-? Did they…?

He can't remember. What happened last night? Where is he? He doesn't… he can't…

He wants to leave. He can't stay here; he needs to run. They’ll find him. They’ll find him and… and…

Please stop- please no please- oh my- oh god oh god please I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so sorry- nonononononono- the mirror smooth metal- it hurts it hurts it hurts- blood everywhere mirror shattered glass blood blood blood- hurts hurts hurts hurts- no stop- what the fuck are you doing- how dare you hurt our property how dare you how dare you- you're not allowed to you can't don’t you dare- you can only do what we say you can only do what we want do you understand do you?- answer me fucking answer me you omega you dirty omega you're filthy you're dirty how dare you disobey me- omega omega omega-

No. Stop thinking. Stop it.

The door opens. Flinching back is an instinct, back hitting the wall, footsteps approaching, a scent, a scent- wait, wait. He knows this. He knows this scent.

Eyes flicker up. Can't see properly.

“Changkyun?”

Clarity. Sudden clarity, too sudden, like curtains being drawn. He blinks, a face comes into view. Dark hair, pale, pretty, he recognises- he knows he swear he knows it’s just he can't… he can't put his finger on it.

“Shh. It’s okay. It’s me, Hyungwon.”

Hyungwon. Yes, he knows Hyungwon. He knows him. He takes a shaky breath. Head tilting back.  His clothes are sweat soaked, clinging to him, uncomfortable. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. Hyungwon frowns, moves forward, close-

-too close. Move back, move back. Don’t… don’t touch. Please.

Hyungwon stops as though he understands. Crouches down, takes in Changkyun’s form, eyes flickering to the slick on his pants. His face softens. Pity. Fuck, Changkyun hates that. He does, he hates it he…

How does- how does he know? How does Hyungwon know about the…? Did… did he tell him? Why would he tell him? Why? Do other people know? Did he tell everyone? How could he do that? What was he thinking? What the fuck was he thinking?

“Hey now.” Hyungwon’s voice comes from somewhere. “It’s okay. I'm not trying to be intrusive; I swear. I just need to ask you a question or two.”

Question? But… Changkyun can't- he can't speak. The words won’t come out. They get stuck and they just stay in his throat but how… how does he explain that? He just shrugs in response and Hyungwon clears his throat, keeps his distance- good, good. Don’t come close.

“Okay. First of all, I need to know whether you're okay with me telling anyone else about this. About the heat. I can tell them that you're not well if that’s what you want but it’ll be easier if they know. They won’t- they won’t say anything. You know they're not like that.”

Changkyun is already furiously shaking his head even though it hurts to do that- he needs to make it clear- no, no one can know, the more people who know… the more people who know, the bigger his chance of getting found and he can't- he can't get found, not again, not again he can't, he really, really can't.

“-kyun. Changkyun! Look, look. You're with me. You're okay, it’s fine, I won’t tell them. I swear, I would never do that to you.” Hyungwon’s expression encapsulates panic, fear shot through with confusion and uncertainty, hands curled into white knuckled fists. He raises a tentative hand. “You good?”

Changkyun swallows hard and nods, shifting uncomfortably as Hyungwon’s shoulder tighten.

“Okay. Okay, listen you don’t have to answer anything. Just say the word and I'm gone.”

But he can't- how hasn’t Hyungwon realised that yet? He shifts again, hisses- hurt, hurt- pain, so much pain, pain everywhere- where are you hurting? – everywhere, everywhere, everywhere.

Hyungwon takes his silence for acceptance, cards his fingers through his hair, bites his lip. “Right. I'm only gonna ask you two more things anyway. But this… it’s important, okay? I need the truth. I won’t judge you- I won’t be angry. I just need the truth, for your sake. Last night, with Yejun. Did you… did he knot you? And- and did he use a condom?”

Everything stills. The world around him, everyone in it, everything that abides by the law of gravity. What does Hyungwon mean? What does he- why is he talking about this? What happened? What happened last night? What was it? What was it? What the fuck was it, what was it?? Why the fuck can't he remember?

Why… why did he have sex? Why would he do that? Why would he willingly open his legs for someone? It doesn't make sense; he wouldn’t do that! He wants to- he wants to tell Hyungwon. There must be a mistake. He wouldn’t sleep with someone- he can't, he can't. He’s defective, his body doesn't work properly. Even if he wanted to, his body wouldn’t produce slick, he barely even gets hard when he’s aroused so… so how? How could he have done that with someone- had sex, penetrative sex, he… he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t, right? He wouldn’t. He… he wouldn’t. Really.

“Changkyun?” Hyungwon’s voice is tiny, a whistle in the dark. “Can you tell me?”

He can't so he shakes his head and Hyungwon’s whole form sags in disappo- no, not disappointment, fear maybe, something strong, something… something…

A shooting pain climbs up his spine. He hurts- aches- agony- a pain he’s only lived in his worst nightmares, days left behind him, years- years back. It’s… it’s like someone’s taken a belt to his back, a metal whip, hitting down again- again- again, tears burn behind his eyelids, god, this is so bad, he wants to… wants to say something, wants to say how much it hurts but the only word his lips can mouth over and over and over is sorry, sorry, sorry.

Sorry. I should never have come here. I knew I’d fuck things up.

Hyungwon has reasons for shame.

He doesn't have enough fingers to count them all. His sins kiss him on the mouth, delicate, soft like a lover- he has reasons for shame but he doesn't regret all the filth which has come out of his mouth, doesn't regret the implications behind his actions which are a noose around the neck. And why should he? No action is without consequence. Regret is an ugly wound- he’s better off without it.

The call comes around midday. He had been cruel to speak to Changkyun, cruel to tie him down to his faults, especially when his eyes had glazed over and his breaths has choked out and he had cried and cried and cried. The tears are a burden, heavy upon his shoulders and he accepts the bitter repercussions of his jarring, aching actions. Repercussions which come in the form of a whip flaying the tender skin off of his back.

He holds his phone to his ear and pretends that his fingers don’t shake.

“Hyungwon-ssi. Thank you for answering my call so promptly- I despise ignorance.”

The CEO’s voice rings in his head, mounts to a crescendo, reverberating through the hollowness of his body. “Sunbaenim.” His voice is flat when he replies. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

There is a brief pause, the sound of paper shuffling and low, heavy breathing. It stretches on for long enough that Hyungwon can feel a low, resounding prickle of discomfort laying low on his flank, just intense enough that he can't ignore it. A silence like this begs to be filled. Begs to overflow.

“I was wondering if you could come down to my office, Hyungwon-ssi.” The man says eventually. “There are a few issues which have come to my attention and I think it would be best if we resolved them as swiftly as possible.”

Hyungwon feels himself go cold. “Have I done something wrong?” He says, whispers really and the CEO laughs, the noise a filthy, guttural thing.

“I didn’t know you were funny, Hyungwon-ah.” He says. “If you had done something wrong, surely you would be the first one to know?”

There’s an edge to his voice which chills him. There is nothing kind in the CEO’s words. No softness to shield the blows, no honey lathered thickly over the splinters to smooth over the sharpness. They come to him in their most primordial form; raw and wretched and doused in pain.

He has nothing to say in response. The silence pervades until the CEO hangs up with a click and a tone and Hyungwon slips his phone back into his pocket, lights a cigarette and heads towards the company building.

It’s not a long enough walk for him to finish the cigarette so he grinds it onto the pavement with his shoe and sighs lightly, pushing the door open and heading towards the elevator, thumbing the button for the right floor and leaning against a metal wall.

The dismissal of his own feelings tastes like desperation. He can blank the word omega out of his mind and choke on his own mindless fruition regarding the numbing of his entire being but that won’t change the way he burns. Carve him out, he won’t ache more. He certainly won’t ache less.

He leaves the elevator, moves towards the CEO’s office and raps his knuckles once, twice, three times and the CEO calls for him to enter.

Against his better judgement, he does exactly as he is told.

The CEO doesn't look up at him when he steps in, doesn't raise his gaze when he bows in a façade of respect or even when he moves forward and seats himself in a chair opposite the man’s desk.

His pain cries out. It is ugly, emaciated.

He waits. He is restless in his anticipation, taps his fingers against his knees, chews at his bottom lip, bites his nails, aches, aches, aches. It doesn't stop. He doesn't know how to make it stop.

Finally, finally the CEO looks up, a brief, sweeping gaze before looking down again.

“Hyungwon-ah.” He says mildly. “I thought we were past smoking.”

His stomach gives way, falls through and drops, heavy, cold in his gut. He blinks, breaths sharp as they pass his lips. The CEO hums. “Nothing to say? What a pity.”

He rips a piece of paper in half and folds it neatly before throwing it in the bin. When he looks at Hyungwon next, his lips are spread into a wide smile. His scent is low, careful. It betrays nothing.

“Hyungwon-ah, tell me.” The man says softly. “Why do you insist on defying me? I've been so lenient- god, I don’t ask anything of any of you other than to try your hardest and make me proud so why, why am I hearing about your drug misuse and why am I hearing it from a third party?”

He raises a brow, palms splayed outwards as if to show that they are bloodless and Hyungwon shrinks into himself. This isn't something he can answer to. Sins like this can't be washed away.

The CEO’s face crumples in a show of genuine abhorrence and he presses his hands over his face tiredly. “Why is it.” He says. “That none of you can prove me wrong? First Changkyun and now you. What do you gain by disappointing me?”

Shame burns deep within him. His fingers curl into fists and he swallows the lump in his throat. Unfair. Cruel. The CEO is cruel in his testaments.

“Changkyun hasn’t done anything.” He breathes. “You don’t need to say his name every time you want to throw some shit. He doesn't deserve that.”

The CEO grins as though this is exactly what he wanted. An issue of consequence; playing into the perpetrator’s traps.

“You have no idea what Changkyun’s done.” He says. “About what he does and what he is. If you did, I'm sure you wouldn’t be so quick to defend him.”

Hyungwon narrows his eyes. “What makes you think I don’t know?” He says softly and there, it’s out in the open. He can't take that back.

The words linger in the air between them. Hyungwon sees when they register with the CEO, sees realisation dawning on his face, the hard, steel-edged taunts giving way to something far more incredulous, far more disbelieving. The genesis of his power and the tilt of equilibrium.

“He would never have told you.” The CEO says, and that’s spite in his voice, venom behind his words. Hyungwon recognises the spitting anger. Recognises it as something he wears himself. “Not this. This, his greatest reason for shame.”

Hyungwon feels something writhe inside him. “There’s no shame in what he is.” He snarls and the CEO laughs.

“Then you don’t know anything.” He says. “You’ve barely touched the tip of the iceberg. You’ve branded the word omega over his forehead without realising all the words accompanying it. Okay, so you know what he is- but do you know what he is? He would never tell you and you sure as hell don’t have the brains to work it out, Hyungwon-ah. You're all face, and with good reason. If I wanted smart, you wouldn’t be here.”

The CEO’s words bite into him, knife sharp edges leaving gaping wounds. Hyungwon grits his teeth. “Stop it.” He whispers, but the CEO laughs him off.

“Stop it?” He repeats. “But Hyungwon-ah, you started this conversation and out of the goodness of my heart I can't end it when you're entertaining such false notions. Changkyun is a whore, Hyungwon-ah. Why’re you looking at me like that? You said you knew the truth, you told me that I was wrong about him- so why do you look so surprised? Does it surprise you to know that he spreads his legs every time I ask him to, that he’s so pliant, so willing to fall into bed- does it surprise you when I tell you that he would drop to his knees and suck off everyone in the meeting rooms just for them to put a good word in for him? Does it surprise you to find out how many people he’s slept with just to keep this secret hidden? Hyungwon-ah, you’ve heard the rumours so tell me, does it really and truly surprise you knowing that Changkyun fucked his way to the top?”

Hyungwon swallows. His grief comes to him in waves of acrid, hollow pain. He feels afraid. He feels alone.

There is a lion sat opposite him and he knows that it’s starved.

Tap, tap, tap.

Changkyun wakes. He breathes. He blinks up through the foliage of scattered thoughts which lay haphazardly in the bleak lake of isolation within his mind. There is a tic in his right hand, a tremor which comes and goes, and another one in his neck, an awful, wretched pulse of pain better left unexplored. He gasps as his body becomes untethered from the soft hold of sleep. His spine arches up, he disassociates from his body, spasms, cries out. Lowers back down slowly, re-enters the softness of his being and exists once again as something metaphysical, raw and wretched, like a wound which has been reopened – bleeding, aching.

He dies every night. He dies and then he is resurrected. He wants to come clean. He’s so desperate to be clean.

He chokes again. A hand on his leg. A tap, tap, tap. He blinks through the jagged edge of mortality. A pale face comes into view. Lips gnawed bloody. A visceral ghost of agony.

“Changkyun.” Warmth of a body over his own. Lowering down onto him like the silver of his own intangible mass being placed back into its vessel every time he’s reborn. A heaviness over him, almost pinning him down like –

Choking gasping for air breaths which won’t come out – hands on him in him – omega omega omega omega – just one sound – smile for the camera – come on Changkyun just one fucking moan while I'm in you – screaming and screaming and screaming and –

Nose against scent gland. Inhale by default and the flooding of the senses. Soft, mellow, minty.

Hyungwon.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Benign tenderness. Changkyun clutches blindly at familiarity. Hyungwon lets his fingers press bruises into his skin. His breaths billow out. Shake. Phantom pain. Very real pain. The blurring of past and present.

Hyungwon draws back. His face is too pale, eyes too red. They search Changkyun's face for some semblance of reassurance which Changkyun knows he can't give. A wave of pain hits. He’s sweat through his clothes again. Slick down his legs and on his sheets. Filth upon filth. He watches, eyes half lidded as Hyungwon strokes his side with the tips of his fingers, careful, gentle.

“I can't do this, Changkyun,” he whispers. “I thought I could but I can't. I can't fucking save you. I'm sorry, I'm so damn sorry – I tried, you need to know that I tried. I didn’t just sit around doing jack shit while you're in here like this. You know I wouldn’t. I don’t know what to do anymore. I'm so scared. I can't… I can't save you from him – I know he’s a liar. It’s not true it can't be I know… I don’t know what to know. I can't think straight. We should just go while we can. Run before the debut and go somewhere he can't find us.”

Changkyun exhales a slow, shaking breath. He always finds them. How does Hyungwon not realise it yet? There’s nowhere to hide when the whole world is watching. Hyungwon looks at him again. Eyes wide. Afraid. Something feral laying low beneath them. Changkyun fears. He does more than just fear.

“I know what he said to me.” Hyungwon says, voice so quiet it barely makes a sound in the hollow silence. “And I don’t… I mean I’ll be damned if I listen to him. I… even if it’s all true. Even if what he said is really how it is. I need to… I don’t know, I need to hear it from you. I can't let it come from him. Not like this.”

He moves his hand from Changkyun's waist to the strip of skin visible between his hand and the cuff of his shirt. His thumb drives a repetitive motion. Changkyun feels sick. He is sick. Sick to the marrow of his bones. It has rotted him from the inside out. Decaying and festering, burning cold in the eclipse of his own redeeming humanisation. Words cry out at him with all their awful metaphorical algorithms that he is unworthy of redemption, that all this filth will never be anything less than abhorrent – that no one but Hyungwon would ever even dare get close to him. That he is relieved for the distance. That he is desperate for closure. That he aches, above all, to come away from this, palms faced up and bloodless, shining into a new dawn.

Such are meaningless, unattainable luxuries. These things are not for people like him. Undeserving. He has the word unlovable branded over his forehead so that no one can forget it exists.

Hyungwon swallows. Eyes bright. Fever bright? No, those are tears. His fingers shake. Changkyun watches. Meticulous observation. He watches. He catalogues emotional response. He festers; he burns.

“I feel disgusting for thinking it.” Hyungwon says, voice shaking. “I know how hard you worked to get here. And for him to… to disparage that. I'm sorry, god Changkyun, I'm so sorry for even asking it but.” He swallows, looks away. “But I can't not ask it. I'm sorry but I can't. It’s just that… look, he called me out when I was alone and he had me sit in front of him with the lights all down low and he said… he told me, god, he told me that it was all true – all the rumours, all that filth out on the streets, he drew it all in and told me about how you got here and what you did and… and I –” A sob works its way through Hyungwon’s tense frame. “And I had to ask if it was true, if the rumours were true and if the CEO’s shit about you whoring yourself out was true.”

Changkyun feels his own hands shake. The world tilts. He thinks he makes a noise, a scream, a cry for salvation, an aching, agonising, desperate plea to be seen beneath the masses of his own treachery. The softest of breaths. Pain over lacerated pain.

He has nothing to hide beneath. Not when he’s alone like this, basked in his own transgressions. He closes his eyes. He exhales sharply. He closes his fingers around Hyungwon's shirt and he opens his mouth to work some semblance of a reply through his lips but he comes up jarringly empty. He can't redeem himself, not when his misery flourishes in silence.

Hyungwon's eyes are on him again. Watch as his throat closes up and his face burns with shame. He should have known. He should… he should have anticipated that this would happen. Weak. The facade of closure which he had procured from his packmates has made him weak.

Hyungwon reaches over to the table by the bed and opens a drawer, rifling around for a moment before haphazardly shoving something into Changkyun's hand.

“You could...” Hyungwon mimes typing, voice tentative. “You could text me. If you can’t... y’know, if you can't say it. If you want to.”

Changkyun glances down at the phone in his hand. He looks back up at Hyungwon, face tear stained and lined with an almost feral desperation. Hyungwon is giving him a way out. He has to – he can’t pass it by, not this time. He can't. He’d only be digging himself into his grave, piling the dirt onto his own body which has already begun to rot from the inside out. His hand tics, his neck tics. Hyungwon watches him, eyes wide, fearful.

Changkyun watches him back. His body flushes cold. He can feel the knots he’s tied so precariously coming undone. This is… it’s a decision he has to make. He knows that. If the CEO could tell Hyungwon then he could tell everyone and Changkyun wants – no, needs to have some predetermined preservative measures put in place to save himself if or when that happens.

If he can't trust Hyungwon then he can't trust anyone.

He unlocks the phone decisively, eyes blurred as he taps the screen, pulling up his messages and pressing Hyungwon's name. He needs to do this. He can't let the CEO shift his focus – eye up the food chain and decide that Hyungwon, or anyone else, is the next prey for consumption. If saving them is the only thing which comes out of the admittance of his jagged ruses, even then it won’t have been for nothing. All these hollow, sickening aches will have amounted to something worth suffering for.

He takes a breath. Taps out his first message.

I'm sorry, he writes, and then, have you told the rest of them about me?

Hyungwon's phone buzzes and he squints as he reads the message. Something softens in his face. Something resembling relief.

“No,” Hyungwon breathes. “No, I… I haven't – I told you I wouldn’t tell anyone. Not unless you want me to. I’d never do something like that to you. They think… I mean, I told them that you're unwell, that you want to be alone. Me and Minhyuk haven't told them anything about what happened.”

A faint pulse of underlying fear alleviates somewhere deep within him. He finds reassurance, even in these idle convictions. Hyungwon's fingers, light against his arm, are his most deplorable vice.

He takes another shaking breath.

I'm so sorry, he types again. This is my fault. You don’t deserve this. He hovers over the send button. Gnaws at his bottom lip. Backspaces the entire thing, starts afresh.

I would have told you everything eventually. I nearly told you the other day. I hate it too. I hate what I am.

He presses send before he can condemn himself further than he already has.

Hyungwon looks at him, lips pressed together, thinned out to a line. “There’s no fucking shame in being an omega, Changkyun,” he says, indignant. “And damn the person who made you believe there is.”

Changkyun shakes his head. Convulses slightly as a pain hits his flank, low and guttural, a malign agony which has him panting, breaths sharp, hissing through his teeth. Hyungwon doesn't cringe away, doesn't curl his lips in disgust. He keeps a hand on Changkyun's arm, rubbing it softly in a repetitive, soothing motion. The pain comes and then it goes just as fast, tilting him off axis, running him through with vertigo. Hyungwon cups his cheek, looks him directly in the eye.

Changkyun flinches away.

The bile rises to his throat unprecedented and Hyungwon grabs the bin just as he throws up, heaving with retches, clawing himself to oblivion, decaying from the inside out. Hyungwon doesn't touch him. Doesn't offer any physical consolation. Changkyun moves back and Hyungwon steps towards the bathroom, comes back with some tissue and towel, wiping any mess and placing the cool, dampened towel over his Changkyun's brow which is slick with sweat. His fingers steer clear of Changkyun's skin. Changkyun swallows, disgusted with himself.

A low silent pervades. Minutes stretch out without either of them offering any cold consolidation – Hyungwon keeps his head bowed in some semblance of shame and Changkyun closes his fingers around his phone as the seconds tick on laboriously. He flicks it on, even as his body spasms slightly, even as his breaths are ragged in his lungs. He types out.

It’s not you. It’s me. I'm sorry. There’s something wrong with me.

Hyungwon's phone lights up. His lips mouth the words. He looks up, eyes red rimmed, brows drawn in.

“God,” he says, whispers, really, voice a breath in the cold air. “What happened to you? That… that bastard Yejun. The CEO – this, all of this. What the fuck is going on, Changkyun-ah?”

Changkyun almost laughs. Nothing, nothing that he could possibly say or do, no action or hollow promise, no dulcet whisper in the darkness or wretched, desperate cry could even begin to fathom – could ever scratch the surface of the enormity of what has happened to him. Where does he start? How does he explain that he has done this all to himself in some futile attempt of escape?

I don’t understand what you want me to tell you. He types.

Hyungwon bites his lip. “How about…” He rubs a palm over his face. “I don’t know. How about you start with – with Yejun. The sex. I just. I don’t understand why, Changkyun-ah.”

His eyes are desperate. Changkyun can't deny him. Not of this.

I didn’t want it. He types. His eyes burn with tears. With shame. I can't remember it all. But I didn’t. I never would. I'm defective. He – Yejun. He gave me a heat inducer. I would never have done that with anyone otherwise but I couldn’t move. I tried but I couldn’t stop him. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You have to believe me.

He presses send. His stomach clenches. This is it now. The truth in all its filth. It’s out of his hands now; he can't get down on his knees and beg Hyungwon to believe something.

Hyungwon ducks his head as he reads the admittance. There is a long moment of nothingness, tense anticipation in which Changkyun's heart beats cold, frantic in his chest. His shirt clings to him. He’s terrified.

Hyungwon looks up at him. His expression is apathetic. He looks down again. Rereads the message. Looks back up. Nothing on his face betrays anything – a mask of indifference. Changkyun can feel the agitation growing, he can feel himself drawing closer, desperate to grasp Hyungwon's hands and tell him to end this rendition of torture – to beg him for the truth of he truly thinks of him. To tell him how Changkyun drew out the truth from somewhere deep and filthy within him and how Hyungwon will never be able to look at him beyond disgust ever again.

Finally, finally Hyungwon opens his mouth. His eyes are very dark. “Changkyun,” he says, voice cold. “Are you saying that he raped you?”

Changkyun closes his eyes. He burns. His shame closes around him entirely until he’s gasping for air. He’d hoped so desperately that it wouldn’t come to this.

Minhyuk hyung spoke to me about rape. He types very slowly. Hands shaking. Breaths ragged. But he was wrong. Yejun told me. He said that it was wrong. He said that he was doing me a kindness.

He hits send.

Hyungwon is silent for a very, very long time. Changkyun twists beneath the sheet. He keeps his eyes trained on Hyungwon, wide, afraid. Hyungwon whispers the words Changkyun has written. All that sickening, awful malevolence personified. It repels him. The matters of his own body, of his own actions, the sins which lay beside him in sleep – all they do is make him ache.

Hyungwon shakes his head. Closes his eyes.

When he looks up at Changkyun again, the only thing his expression cries out is absolute, undeniable carnage.

Hyungwon can't breathe.

He doesn't dare to, doesn't know what would happen if he did. He can taste his own fear, sick and brimming with something unspeakable at the back of his throat, threatening to spill over if he opens his mouth. He sucks in a ragged inhale, leaning against the wall, mind reeling.

What can he do? What the fuck is there left for him to do?

He can see the image that’s being painted, see what he’s backed himself into; Changkyun laying docile and submissive and torn down to the marrow of his bones with a target on his back and no bullets left and the CEO pointing a gun to Changkyun’s temple, daring Hyungwon to breathe a word of this ruse.

There’s no way out. Hyungwon will die knowing this, he can feel it. His fingers itch for a cigarette but the way they shake begs for something more. A line of coke; a good, thorough fuck.

But no. He can't. His secrets would come out in the dead of night. He would damn them both.

Rape is a such huge, gaping word. Hyungwon closes his eyes, grits his teeth. Fuck. Fuck. He wants to close his fingers around Yejun’s throat, sink his nails into the soft skin there and squeeze, he wants to scream and cry and beg for this to end, he wants someone to fucking hold him and tell him this isn't his fault. It feels an awful lot like it’s his fault.

He moves away from the door and swallows hard. He doesn't know what to do. This is his fault. He’d known enough, known about the scent blockers and the sex repulsion and the sickening fear that had plagued Changkyun for this to be his fault. He could’ve saved him. He should’ve saved him, should’ve been faster or pushed more, asked more questions, been more concerned. Hasn’t he done this himself? Didn’t he see the signs and cast them away? What’s there left for him to do, who can he fucking tell?

And who would believe him if he told them?

He moves to the kitchen, flicks on the light and pours himself some water. Closes his eyes again, tries to ease his shaking fingers and racing heart. This feeling is crippling. He doesn't think he’ll ever be able to forgive himself. He feels – hell, he feels so alone. Minhyuk was there and he didn’t see it, how were they – how could they have been so blind to it? Was it always so obvious? He doesn't understand. It doesn't make sense.

He fumbles for a cigarette and lights it. Damn’s the consequences. He takes the first ragged inhale and then blows out a lungful of smoke, shaking his head to try and clear it. What do I do? He thinks desperately. He can't just stand here. He can't flush it out, can't push it to the back of his mind. It’s a huge, raging things that begs to be seen. He presses the filter to his lips and takes another drag.

“Hyungwon?”

He freezes. Blinks, then turns his head very slowly to see Kihyun stood in the doorway, eyes very wide. “Are you smoking?”

Hyungwon tries for a laugh. “Yeah,” he says, voice coming out a little hoarse. “Guess I am. Don’t… don’t tell, okay? I'm sorry, I know I shouldn’t – I should probably…” he fumbles, feeling shame flush through him. He can feel a lump growing at the back of his throat as he presses the cigarette to the metal of the sink and stubs it out. His eyes burn as he turns around. He can't cry. He’s not going to cry. This isn't – fuck, this is his fucking fault, he can't dig his own grave and then cry when they lower him into it – this is the consequence of his negligence. Shouldn’t he hurt? Doesn't he deserve to hurt?

“I'm sorry,” he repeats, staring fixedly at his feet. His vision blurs.

“Hyungwon-ah,” Kihyun’s voice sounds far away. Soft, careful. Intangible. “What’s going on? I don’t get it – you and Changkyun and Minhyuk have been fucking around behind our backs and now you’ve started smoking again. Did you think we didn’t notice or something? Did you think we wouldn’t realise?”

Hyungwon winces. His heartbeat is treacherously loud. “Funny story,” he says. His voice sounds hollow in his own ears. “I never quit smoking. Or the drugs. I lied to you all and Minhyuk found out and he was pissed. Except he’s not pissed anymore because we fought about it and he realised that I'm actually fucked up and he can't change that – he can't stop me and I don’t want to stop. So you can be angry too. And you can tell everyone else, I don’t give a fuck. You can… you can shout if you want, it’s my fault anyway. It’s always my fucking fault.”

And then he’s crying – except he doesn't mean to, his voice breaks on the last sentence and his shoulders heave and then suddenly Kihyun has his arms around him, one hand in his hair and the other tugging him down so his face is pressing against Kihyun’s neck, right at his scent gland. Kihyun runs a hand down his back in a slow, repetitive motion, holds him close as he shakes in his arms.

Hyungwon feels swathed in his guilt. He can't feel like this, he shouldn’t. He doesn't deserve to, he hasn’t done anything to deserve this, this comfort, this assurance. The feeling cloys up his throat as he clutches at Kihyun’s shirt, aching for the closeness, desperate for something, anything, to relieve this terrible, shrouded blister of fear.

“It’s okay,” Kihyun is saying in a low voice. “It doesn't matter. Hyungwon-ah, it doesn't make a difference, okay? Is that what this is about?”

If he could, Hyungwon would laugh himself to death. Hyungwon thinks he would do anything to undo what has happened. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do; there’s nothing he wouldn’t have done to himself.

“No,” he whispers. “But I can't tell you what happened. I can't tell you, but it’s my fault and I think it’s going to kill me. I don’t know what to do. I want to – Kihyun-ah, I want to die.”

And he does. It’s a selfish thing and he can't help the sobs that rise to his throat when he thinks about it. There’s a mantra in his head, a tune of blame where the chorus is just his name spelled out, bold black ink with his sins laid out for the whole world to see.

Who could love him after all that? Who could see the truth and not look at him with disgust?

Kihyun draws back and cups his face with his palm. His eyes are wide and searching, expression a little stricken, laced through with a shot of panic. “That’s not funny, Hyungwon-ah,” he says and Hyungwon looks away.

“I'm not joking,” he says thickly. “Something’s happened and I can't fix it. I need to tell someone but there’s no one I can tell.”

Kihyun’s expression flickers. “You can tell me,” he says, and Hyungwon aches to spill the truth except he can't, he can't, he’s not allowed – that would be… that would be pulling the trigger.

There would be rebound. The aftermath would be felt by them all. Hyungwon will have no pretences left to hide behind if he sells the secret that’s been rotting him from the inside out for a lick of comfort.

“I can't tell you,” he whispers. “I can't tell anyone. I'm alone.”

Kihyun’s expression is laden with sympathy. It hurts to look at, so Hyungwon turns away. There’s nothing worse than facing the consequences of his own negligence.

“It’s about Changkyun, isn't it?” Kihyun says, voice very soft. “Hyungwon-ah, do you really think you're better off keeping it to yourself?”

Hyungwon swallows, turns away. The CEO’s wicked smile flashes through his mind. “Yes,” he whispers. “I am.”

-

“Changkyun-ah,” Hyungwon says three days later, voice very loud in the silence. “Look at me.”

Changkyun blinks away the sleep from his eyes, clears out the scraps of fear and shifts to look up at where Hyungwon’s standing.

“Hyung,” he manages to choke out. His heart is very loud in his ears and his voice is hoarse from disuse. He glances towards the door as though he expects it to swing open and reveal something horrifying or sickening, something curling with filth. Nothing comes; there’s a lock on the door and it stays bolted. Hyungwon doesn't move from where he’s stood, expression half shrouded in the darkness as he watches Changkyun impassively. He’s still, too still, but his scent is streaked with something bitter. Changkyun searches for disgust on his face but finds nothing at all.

“Can I sleep next to you?” Hyungwon whispers. There’s something in his voice that Changkyun can't place. He’s coming to the end of his heat, the stickiness and the racing pulse and the fear over lacerated fear has receded and all that’s left is this bone deep disgust, a weariness, an awful, smothering realisation of how Minhyuk and Hyungwon found him. Of what they saw. Of what they know.

He's killed them both. Poured the poison with his own hands; he watched them drink it.

You were raped, Hyungwon had said, stricken, hands shaking, and what can Changkyun say to that other than, I suppose so, other than, if that’s what we’re calling it, other than, what can we do about it now? It’s too late for him to get clean, to come out of this unscathed. He never should have come here. He deserves everything he got.

“Yes,” he manages, because Hyungwon’s eyes are very red, and he looks very small asking for comfort in the hollowness of the night.

Hyungwon crosses the room and lifts the corner of the blanket, tucking himself under the covers, keeping a careful distance between them. Changkyun’s head aches. He’s tired. He couldn’t fall asleep if he tried. He turns to look at Hyungwon, eyes tracing the slant of his nose, the curl of his lashes.

“What can I do?” Hyungwon says finally, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “I'm so scared. I don’t know how to help you.”

He’d said this last time too. When Changkyun’s secret had come out. When he’d dropped all pretence, drugged up and choking and hot with heat. Then, Changkyun had been stifled with the feeling of his own crude fear of what had happened and the aftermath of pain shooting through him to feel anything other than resentment at Hyungwon’s words. Now he wants to reach out, curl a hand against Hyungwon’s neck, right at the scent gland and offer him an assurance. What could you have done? He wants to say. It was inescapable. He knows this now.

Changkyun doesn't answer him, and Hyungwon continues speaking.

“It’s so hard. I didn’t think it would be hard keeping this to myself but fuck, it is. It’s all I can think about, Changkyun-ah. I can't. I can't fucking sleep, I can't eat and I'm – I'm not getting clean. I can't. What if we told someone? Just one other person. Please. They won’t care, Changkyun-ah. They won’t hate you; I promise they won’t. But I feel so alone. I feel like it’s my fault.”

When Hyungwon looks at him his eyes shine with tears and Changkyun feels something knife sharp impale him. He reaches out, touches the curve of Hyungwon’s cheek, swallowing hard. When he speaks his voice is heavy. His throat closes around the words. “It’s not your fault,” he tries to assure but Hyungwon shakes his head.

“I knew,” he says. “I knew so fucking much and I couldn’t see it. I could’ve – I could’ve done something. I could’ve helped you. It didn’t have to be like this.”

Changkyun smooths his thumb against Hyungwon’s cheek. He shifts, inches marginally closer. “It did,” he says. “You couldn’t have helped me. I didn’t want you to.”

How can he explain it? If he could, he would still take it all back. How can Hyungwon not understand? This, knowing this, it’s a noose around the neck. It’ll only be so long before someone kicks the chair from under his feet and leaves him floundering. This is what Changkyun is. An architect of destruction. A catalyst of ruin.

Hyungwon’s eyes on him are very wide. “Changkyun,” he whispers. “I love you. You… you know that, right? I really fucking love you.”

Something inside him breaks at that. His breaths stutter in his chest. This, here – he would give Hyungwon anything. He would do anything to erase the helplessness in his voice. To spare him from this upheaval.

He doesn't say it back. He knows Hyungwon doesn't expect him to.

Who do I tell? He thinks wildly. Hyungwon’s voice is loud in his mind. I feel so alone. Changkyun knows what's that’s like. He wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

Who to tell? He thinks desperately. Who to kill?

Minhyuk rises to his mind unbidden, he’d seen the ruse, would believe the truth except, no. The word alpha is garish and huge and Changkyun is afraid. So who? Who to point the gun at, who to shoot?

Kihyun or Jooheon? Their names spin in his mind’s eye. He’s playing Russian roulette. He’s died a thousand times; he knows what it’s like. He knows how it hurts, the impact, the pain. His instincts want to save them both. To save himself, but he can see the knot of his lies coming undone and the truth spilling out from the cracks.

They're going to find out, he realises deliriously. How long will this mask stay unbroken? How much longer does he have?

C’mon, he thinks desperately. Who? What the fuck, who can he tell? Who does he… who can he trust the most?

No one, rises the thought unbidden but he clamps it down. Hyungwon is a solid presence at his side who he’d dared to trust, who’s lips didn’t curl with disgust, who’s eyes didn’t harden with repulsion. Isn't that proof? Can't he take that as proof?

He closes his eyes. Takes a breath. Then nods, leans forward and presses a feather light kiss against Hyungwon’s lips. An apology. A thanks.

“I’ll tell Jooheon hyung,” he says softly. “I don’t want you to feel alone.”

When Hyungwon cries, it’s an awful, terrible thing. Changkyun holds his hand through it, plagued by his own silence.

-

When Changkyun wakes in the morning, any lingering hints of his heat have receded completely. Hyungwon is still curled up next to him, warm and soft, his hand closed around the front of Changkyun’s shirt. He sits up and moves it back, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and swallowing down the numbing apathy that’s nestled in his chest. Shower, he reminds himself. Wash off the discrepancies, the slick and the sweat and the heat.

He does. He moves to the adjoined bathroom and strips down slowly, showers slowly and tries not to think about last night. Fuck. What was he thinking? Has he bought them to ruin by inviting another bearer into this ruse?

He can count the curves of his ribs, see the knobs of his spine. His skin is sickly; he doesn't look like an alpha.

(But then, does he still need to? If one of them knows, isn't it the same as them all knowing? It’s as they say. It only takes a drop to poison the supply.)

He towels himself dry and pulls on some clean clothes, spraying on the scent blocker and taking a shuddering breath. When he leaves the bathroom, Hyungwon in bed, face smoothed out and softened in sleep. Changkyun sits at the edge of the bed and runs the tip of his finger along Hyungwon’s cheek. “Hyung,” he says lightly. “Wake up.”

Hyungwon blinks awake, squinting up at Changkyun through the light. He smiles slightly. His eyes are ringed red and there’s a spot of colour splayed across his cheekbones. He is pale in the morning light, fragile looking beneath the covers, pressing into Changkyun for warmth. Changkyun sees his own reflection in the hollows of Hyungwon’s eyes and it repels him; he blinks, looks away, sickened at his own mirror. This is what he’s doing to them; this is what he’s done to himself.

“I need to talk to you,” he says carefully and Hyungwon nods, sitting up and running a hand through his hair.

“Okay,” he says, voice thick with sleep. “Give me a minute.”

Changkyun does.

-

Hyungwon swallows hard as he pops the last button of his shirt, shutting the door of the bathroom behind him and moving back to the bed which Changkyun hasn’t moved from. There’s a feeble lick of unease circling low inside him. He knows how halting Changkyun’s compliance was last night, how fleeting. He knows how easily he could take it back.

Changkyun’s eyes flicker up to him as he moves. They're shrouded in wariness, a suspicion which doesn't abate. A tension which can’t be driven away. Still, he smells unassuming, vaguely metallic with a hint of something woody. Not the honey sweet smell of heat – the molasses thick scent of omega which had permeated the room for days has almost completely receded. Sitting in front of him is Changkyun as he has always known him. Straight backed and hard eyed. Alpha.

Hyungwon looks away, clearing his throat. “Changkyun,” he says softly. “What did you want to talk about?”

Changkyun shifts as Hyungwon sits, drumming the tips of his fingers against his thigh. “Last night,” he starts. His voice is quiet, careful, but hell, at least he can speak, form the words and spit them out instead of mulling in them, choking on them like Hyungwon had seen for the last week. “What we talked about. Are you sure this is what you want?”

Hyungwon blinks. “What do you mean?”

Something complicated splays over Changkyun's expression. He chews at his lips, brows furrowed. “I mean,” he says slowly. “You know what the CEO said to you. What he said about me and how this – how it made you feel. I get it, you think it’ll be enough, that telling someone else will stop it from feeling like this but it doesn't get better, hyung. It’s never enough. You have to understand that.”

Hyungwon looks up. Changkyun's eyes on him are hard, cold, self-assured. Brimming with a certainty that doesn't waver. Hyungwon is sure that Changkyun believes what he’s saying but he’s also sure that there has to be something – something softer in relieving a pain like this. Some respite, at least.

“Changkyun-ah,” Hyungwon says. “You don’t have to protect me.”

Changkyun's eyes flash. “You know what I am,” he says. “You know why I have to.”

At that, Hyungwon wants to scream. He wants to rip himself apart, tear himself up, curl his body inside out and lay his heart in Changkyun's palms still beating, give it to him whole and unbroken, grit his teeth together and cry out, manic and half crazed with madness. Hyungwon will never stop crying out. He will never stop digging his nails in too hard, trying to carve away this hunger.

“I’ll kill him,” Hyungwon says through his teeth, voice hollow and raging both equally and simultaneously. “I want to hurt him, Changkyun-ah, I can… I can taste how much I want to, to bite into him and tear him apart. I want him to fucking die for what he did.”

Changkyun only smiles wryly. “Hyung,” he says. “Come on. Do you think he’s the only guy to fuck me after I said no? You know what I am. You know what people think and you… you know them better than I do Tell me. Is it safe for them to know?”

Hyungwon swallows thickly. He wants to sob, curl in on himself, put himself on wretched display. “It has to be,” he says, voice broken. “They’ll find out either way, Changkyun-ah. But I… if it makes any difference, I trust them.”

Changkyun looks at him strangely. “Okay,” he says. There’s an odd finality to his voice, a mulled over acceptance. “That’s all I needed to know.”