Chapter Text
Every day when Jungkook wakes up, he puts on his armour, and the storm outside cannot leave a mark on his skin.
It begins with his scented products, from the coconut moisturiser he spreads across his body to the sweet-smelling shampoo he uses in the mornings. Soft, cosy fabrics follow which might look shapeless on anyone else but which hang off his frame the way they do on the runway. Last is his makeup, and Jungkook loves make-up, his very own helmet. With his books to hold in front of his chest as a shield, and a pair of heavy boots that make him feel like a soldier, he’s ready to go.
It’s no different to putting on a suit of armour. When he looks good, he feels that every sharp edge in the world can only glance off him. When he looks good, he feels good, and in a world that has tried to beat him down, feeling good is the best gift that he can give to himself.
The armour is important, because life on campus has never been easy. As the first in his family to go to college, Jungkook has secured a sizeable scholarship, and his classes aren’t the difficult part. He likes almost all of his professors and can often be found waiting outside their offices during the week to talk through his reading.
The difficult part is being on a campus comprised of 85% alphas.
On some days, the attention can be nice. Alphas trip over themselves to help him out, offering to carry his books or buy him his morning coffee. He plays with them, flutters his eyelashes when they lavish praise upon him, and their flirtations do make him feel wanted. On other days, though, it’s tiring. There are cat-calls, even on campus, and it makes him feel an unpleasant kind of twist in his stomach that they think he’ll swoon at a single wolf-whistle.
Like that’s all they think of him.
Jungkook thinks that to shout at someone in the street, one must have very little else to say.
And sometimes, grossness aside, he just wants to go about his day without their attention. No matter how many products he drenches himself in each morning, they can pick up on his scent from a mile away. He even has to visit the gym during the night, when the alphas aren’t there hitting the weights, to avoid them staring at him when he’s just trying to work out.
No, it’s not easy being part of the 15%, especially when just five years ago the omega population at this college was non-existent.
Relief comes in his dorm room. Though every room in this block is shared, Jungkook has never been assigned a roommate. Most omegas pay for individual rooms, but his scholarship doesn’t cover that. Alphas aren’t permitted to share with omegas. For a year, he’s had the run of this double room alone, using the second bed as a store for his piles of clothes. Jungkook has a penchant for thrifting. The second desk has become his makeup station.
After every difficult day, he throws down his bag and throws himself too, flat on his back on the bed. On the ceiling are stuck his affirmations, which he reads aloud to himself every day.
I am stronger than them.
I will meet my goals.
I deserve to be here.
People might roll their eyes at them but they help. Jungkook reads each line to himself every morning and before he goes to sleep.
Tuesday starts like that, the only day of the week that he gets to lay in late. His classes don’t start until 11 and his work shifts only run Thursday through Sunday. Rolling onto his front, he breathes in the morning air from the open window and closes his eyes to enjoy the noise of the passing traffic, students bustling along on their way to classes, ignorant of those still sleeping off their late-night studies or parties, but Jungkook doesn’t mind that.
He’s used to the noise.
What he isn’t used to is a sharp rap on the door as he pulls his cosy blankets up around his body, ready to snooze for another hour, and he nearly jumps out of his skin. Anxious, he launches himself from the bed, grabbing for his fluffy gown for anything to cover his bare skin. Jungkook sleeps in shorts and small vests, because he launders his sheets more than anybody else in the building and he likes the smooth feeling of clean sheets on his skin.
“Jungkook?” The shout through the door makes him jump again and he stumbles over a basket of his clothes on the way to answer.
“Yes! Yes!” he stammers as he unhooks the safety latch. There is no time to smooth down his hair or even rub the sleep from his eyes.
He’s met with the familiar face of one of the dorm RAs, the only one that he knows on a personal level because he’s the only omega and manages this part of the building. The RA looks him up and down with raised eyebrows, and Jungkook curls his toes under his bare feet in embarrassment. “I’ve come to introduce you to your new roommate.”
“My new what?”
The floor disappears from beneath him. His sanctuary of a whole year hangs suddenly by a thread. His things cover every surface of the room. The walls are dressed with his photographs and posters tacked up with easy peel tape to protect his security deposit. This bedroom is personal. Not only does he not want a roommate occupying space but he doesn’t want one seeing all of his things either.
“I emailed you last week,” says the RA.
Jungkook tries not to narrow his eyes. He checks his college email every morning for messages from his lecturers and updates on his reading list. There is no way that he would have missed such a message. Rather than argue, he swallows and glances around. “A roommate? I have to have a roommate?”
“You’ve had the run of the place for a year, Jungkook,” he laughs. “You can’t have too many complaints.”
“A – an omega?” Jungkook says, suddenly anxious that they might at last have given up and assigned him an alpha for a roommate. He knows that some colleges allow that. Jungkook couldn’t bear it. He doesn’t even take heat-suppressants. Living surrounded by that scent and that aura 24/7 would royally screw up his life.
“No, no.”
Nausea swills in his stomach. Anxiety makes his palms sweat. “But - ”
“Beta. This is Taehyung. I think the two of you will get on.” When he steps aside, Jungkook’s heart jumps to his mouth.
This isn’t a possibility that he ever considered. Omegas might still be a minority at college, but beyond these walls they make up just as much of society as the alphas do. Betas, on the other hand? Betas are rare. Very rare. So rare that for a long time doctors said that there must be some kind of medical condition that prevented a small number of teenagers from presenting, or perhaps delayed their development. Only in the last couple of decades have they come to agree that betas are simply… betas.
They are, very much, what they are.
Not only does it take him by surprise to come face to face with a beta in the corridor, but he turns scarlet when he realises that the beta is handsome.
Jungkook reminds himself to behave like a functioning adult for a minute and inclines his head in a small bow. “I’m Jeon Jungkook,” he announces. “I’m so sorry, I must have overslept today.”
“It’s no problem,” says the beta Taehyung, and his voice is like caramel: smooth, rich, and sweet. It’s also gentle and measured, quite quiet though the depth of it makes the sound vibrate in his chest or throat. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
“See?” the RA smiles, like these cordial exchanges are the blossoming of a lifelong friendship. “You’ll like having someone to live with at last.”
Jungkook has no choice but to invite Taehyung into his room – their room – his special place, and when he steps aside to allow Taehyung over the threshold he sees that the beta has only one bag over his shoulder. A life can’t possibly be held in such a small duffle. “Do you have more to collect?” asks Jungkook as he runs over to the second bed and quickly starts to pile up his clothes into his arms. “I can help you get them if you’d like?”
“I’m good,” smiles Taehyung, dropping his one bag down. As he looks around the room, his smile falters. “You weren’t expecting me, were you?”
“I didn’t get the email,” he says guiltily as if it were his fault. “But it’s fine! I can move everything. Just give me two minutes.”
It helps to occupy himself with sweeping around the room because if he looks at Taehyung he knows he’ll pinken again. With his quick glances whenever Taehyung is distracted, he sees that he has a strong brow that frames dark, warm eyes, and a sharp jaw, the kind that alphas would give their left arm for. There are a lot of stereotypes that float around about what an alpha is supposed to look like, or what an omega is supposed to look like, but Jungkook doesn’t think he’s ever thought too much about what a beta is “supposed” to look like.
At lightning speed, Jungkook clears the second desk and the bed and starts to pull down his pictures from that side of the room.
“You don’t have to move your things,” Taehyung says gently. “As you can see, I don’t have a lot of stuff.”
When he chances another look at him, Jungkook realises that Taehyung must be wearing his best clothes to make a good impression. His shirt is smart and button-down and his jacket, though threadbare, has a tailoring that suggests it might have been expensive once. Still dressed in his gown and his bed-shorts, Jungkook cringes and runs to his closet. “I’m just going to throw on some clothes!”
Luckily he can hide half behind the door as he grabs something to pull on. His closet is smartly organised, unlike the overflow pile on the bed, because it is where he hangs his nice things.
Ever since he was a kid, Jungkook has been in love with clothes. His parents were always traditional, his father in starched shirts and suspender braces and polished shoes, even though he only worked at the local factory, and his mother wore nice dresses that she made herself. By the age of thirteen, Jungkook was wearing both. By the age of fifteen, he could sew anything he wanted on a machine.
And he’s lucky.
His traditional parents have never minded. His alpha father never even raised his eyebrows when Jungkook started to leave the house in a skirt or a small heel. He even chased off the older alphas down the street who started to shout rude things at him.
Today, though, Jungkook doesn’t pick from his skirts, or from his pretty things which he keeps for himself. He pulls out nice jeans and a simple soft sweater and dresses quickly, because he doesn’t know Taehyung yet, and for some reason he feels shyer than usual.
“What are you studying?” asks Taehyung, and when Jungkook emerges he sees him looking at the sewing machine on his desk.
“Business.”
“Business?” Taehyung eyes the machine, and then flits his gaze to the makeup station that he’s hurriedly dumped on his nightstand. “I thought you were going to say something very artistic.”
Jungkook’s ears turn red. “I – I want to set up my own business after college. Making clothes.”
Taehyung smiles. “Good. I could tell you were an artist.”
“I could’ve studied fashion design but no one in my family has ever done this kind of thing and I wouldn’t know the first place to start setting up my own business. I don’t want to make clothes for another company, you see. I want to have my own brand, and that way I can involve my family and it can be our business. I want to make stuff that’s pretty and intricate but which anyone can afford.” He doesn’t know why he blurts it all out, but Taehyung looks at him with genuine interest.
“That sounds fantastic.”
“And what are you studying?” Jungkook clears his throat to move the conversation along from himself.
“Circus studies,” says Taehyung, without missing a beat. “See I desperately wanted to be a doctor, but my parents insisted I join the circus and I didn’t want to disappoint them.”
For a second, Jungkook just blinks at him.
“I’m kidding, Jungkook,” Taehyung adds. His smile is very generous, very warm. “I’m studying film. Which I think disappointed my parents more than it would have if I’d joined the circus.”
Jungkook laughs.
It’s the first time he laughs in Taehyung’s presence, and it’s still nervous, still shaky, but it feels very real. Taehyung’s eyes crinkle when he smiles. He has very white, very straight teeth, and Jungkook once again feels the creeping impression that Taehyung comes from a lot of money, whether he carries all of his worldly possessions in one bag or not.
“Why film?”
“I knew it would offend them most,” winks Taehyung. “And I want to direct movies one day.”
Sure enough, when he unpacks his bag, he pulls out a camera, a tripod, a set of huge headphones and his laptop before he reaches any clothes. Jungkook watches curiously, forgetting not to stare, as three shirts and two pairs of pants are laid out on the bed, before Taehyung steps back to examine the room again. He drops the bag back to the ground with a clunk which suggests there are a few things left inside, but it can’t be much.
“Is that really all your stuff?” says Jungkook, unable to believe it. “You must have to do laundry every day!”
“I don’t like clutter.”
Jungkook grimaces, aware that he’s surrounded by his own thousands of possessions crammed into the one dorm room, not to mention his mountains of boxes back at home in his parents’ spare room.
“I have to run to class this morning,” says Taehyung. “Do you mind if I just leave my stuff on the bed?”
“It’s your room,” Jungkook says weakly, realising once again that his period of much-enjoyed solitude is over.
When Taehyung gives him another broad smile and squeezes his shoulder on the way past to the door, Jungkook catches a hint of his scent, and he tilts his face towards it. Alphas have an overpowering scent, saturated with heady, heavy tones and intense, burning flavours. Omegas smell the sweetest; floral or candy-like or like freshly picked berries. But Jungkook has never been close enough to know what a beta smells like.
There’s no pheromone-like weight to the air around him, designed to attract a mate. The scent is so mild that you’d have to be at his side to notice it. Taehyung smells like safe things, Jungkook thinks. Fresh air, clean cotton sheets, and delicate white flowers.
Jungkook tries not to breathe it in, afraid to make him uncomfortable. For alphas and omegas, it is the most natural thing in the world to connect through scent. He doesn’t know what it means to betas, who, he knows, tend to remain solitary throughout their lives, excluded from the social circles of the majority.
So Jungkook turns his face down and then away, and tries to pretend that it isn’t the first scent to have attracted him since he presented at the age of seventeen.
~
“What do you know about betas?” Jungkook asks Namjoon.
His friend turns to him with a look of surprise. Namjoon is one of the only alphas on campus who Jungkook can spend time with without getting bored or grossed out, and in truth it’s because Namjoon isn’t like other alphas. Rather than flexing his strength on the sport fields or acting cocky at the student bars, he dedicates his time to his studies and he volunteers at the local children’s charity after class every day.
And Namjoon is dating another alpha, which means he isn’t interested in getting into Jungkook’s pants.
A big bonus.
“Betas?” Namjoon sits back. “I haven’t known any. There were none at my school, or if there were then they played it off as late-presenting. As for here, I think there’s one in Jimin’s philosophy class, maybe, I’m sure he’s mentioned it.”
“You know lots about them though, right?” Jungkook presses, because Namjoon is a fountain of knowledge about anything and everything.
“I know that people are ignorant as hell when it comes to their business. I know people think there’s something wrong with them, that they’re missing something, and that’s why they tend to keep themselves to themselves. A lot of betas are artists, or writers. They’re mostly solitary.”
“By choice or by nature?”
“I’m not sure, Jungkook,” he says, looking more than a little confused. “You know how it is. Society says that alphas want omegas and omegas want alphas – look at how people treat Jimin and me for doing something different.” It’s not unheard of, for alphas to see each other, but it’s unusual enough that people mutter about them. “Maybe betas just don’t know where they fit in all that. Maybe other people won’t let them fit in all that. Just because they aren’t ruled by biology, that doesn’t mean they don’t necessarily want to be with someone. I think that love is universal. Why are you asking, anyway?”
Jungkook swallows. “My new roommate is a beta.”
“You have a roommate?” Namjoon’s confusion turns to astonishment.
“He moved in today. Taehyung.”
“What’s he like?”
“I don’t know,” says Jungkook honestly. “He’s funny, like in a dry way. He didn’t seem shy but he wasn’t loud either. He has no stuff. I mean no stuff. He brought one bag with him. He’s studying film.”
Their conversation is interrupted by a group of passing alphas in the East-Building cafeteria, one of whom slows down to whistle at Jungkook. He looks up and shoots the group a sweet smile, even as Namjoon’s expression sours. They’re bland-looking guys, broad like a lot of alphas but not bulging with muscle like some of the other guys on campus. Jungkook has seen them before. One of them is in one of his seminars. They’re harmless enough.
“You coming to the party tonight, Jungkook?” another dares, meeting his gaze with a smile that’s clearly meant to look confident, but Jungkook sees the nerves there. If it’s one thing he’s good at, it’s keeping alphas wrapped around his finger.
Jungkook tilts his head to the side. “What’s in it for me?”
“I’ll buy you all the drinks you want.”
“Like you could show him a good time.” One of them shoves his friend. “Jungkook’d eat you alive.”
Where such rumours have come from, Jungkook doesn’t know – he doesn’t do hook-ups – but he’s never cared about his unearned reputation. Alphas buy him drinks and spoil him with praise in the hopes of catching his eye, and he accepts the indulgence, if only because it reminds him that he’s desirable. He’s only human. The validation makes him feel assured.
It beats the catcalls on the street, or the lewd comments some people make behind his back. He’d rather get free drinks out of it, at least. All the time that he’s the one keeping them at his beck and call, he can accept it. It can be useful, having a train of alphas willing to shadow you everywhere. The college guys are annoying, but once, out and about, they walked him home after a group of much older alphas started to follow him, and Jungkook hasn’t forgotten that.
“I might drop by,” he shrugs, “if a better offer doesn’t come along.”
“I don’t know how you put up with them,” says Namjoon when the group pass. “They’re single-fucking-minded.”
“Are you going to this party?”
“No way,” laughs Namjoon, but then he looks at him and his expression falters. “Unless you’re going. If you want to go then I’ll come with you, or Jimin will.”
They always do. “I can take care of myself, hyung,” he says gently. “There will be loads of other omegas at the party, and those guys are all bark and no bite.”
“Still, it doesn’t hurt to have an alpha around to look out for you,” mutters Namjoon, like he doesn’t trust those guys half as much as Jungkook does.
“Really?” he sighs.
“You don’t know alphas like I do. Besides, Jimin loves a party. He’ll go with you.”
“Okay,” Jungkook smiles. If it helps Namjoon sleep better at night, then he’ll allow it. “I’ll ask him.”
~
Finding courage is something that Jungkook has mastered over many years.
His armour helps, and this time when Taehyung returns to the dorm room, Jungkook is wearing it. “Good classes?” he asks from his desk as he threads his machine, anxious to finish up this front panel before the party.
“Yeah, really good,” says Taehyung. “You?”
“It’s business,” he shrugs. “Class is never that exciting.”
As he watches Taehyung out of the corner of his eye, he plucks up that courage which he’s been building in his stomach during the wait for him to get back, and he spins his chair around to face back into the bedroom. He’s been thinking about what Namjoon said – about how excluded betas are from the social side of life, dominated by alphas and omegas, and of one thing he’s certain: if Taehyung is going to be living here, then he’s going to feel included.
Jungkook won’t have any roommate of his feeling isolated.
“Some guys invited me to a party tonight. I’m going with a couple of my friends and I was wondering if you wanted to join us?”
“A party?”
“It’s just across campus. It’ll probably be rubbish but we always have a laugh anyway, and there will be drinks and music.”
“I don’t know…” Taehyung, for the first time, looks uncomfortable. “I’ve never really…”
“I promise you’ll have a good time – you can stick with us.”
Taehyung is upfront with his worry. “Are your friends also omegas?”
“No, no they’re alphas, but they’re chill. You’ll like them.”
After a moment, Taehyung nods. “Okay. Thank you.”
Jungkook nibbles on his lip as he works on his blouse. He isn’t sure how best to approach his line of enquiry without sounding nosy. The last thing he wants is to scare Taehyung off. “Do you have any friends on campus that you could invite too? They’re welcome to join. You know… any betas?” He says it hesitantly, trying to keep his voice steady and light like it’s nothing, but he’s sure that Taehyung must hear the prodding in his voice somewhere.
“I don’t really know anyone. I’m the only beta in my department.”
As he tries to imagine spending a year or more on campus without making any friends at all, Jungkook sets his jaw. “Well my friends are awesome. They’ll be your friends too in no time.”
He hums to himself as he ducks under his desk for his scraps basket and fiddles through. Many of his designs come to life like this. Even with his work on top of his scholarship, it’s difficult to afford nice materials, so he often swings by the textiles department to beg for offcuts and he never throws away anything that he’s used. Some of his best ideas have come from scraps.
“So why did you have to move to a new room?” he asks after another minute, as if to allow Taehyung a rest time between each question.
“I was rooming with another omega over in the redbrick block, but he was sneaking in his alpha girlfriend, and the girlfriend didn’t like having me around. We make people uncomfortable. Betas, I mean. I’ve moved three times.”
“That’s ridiculous!” protests Jungkook, but before he can start a rant about what dicks they must have been, Taehyung has slipped on his headphones and sat back on the bed, and he swallows down his words. It’s obvious that Taehyung doesn’t want to have this conversation. Moody but resigned, Jungkook returns to his own work and tries not to think about the pile of assignments that he has mounting up.
He wracks his brain for any memory of encountering a beta but he knows he hasn’t met one. They make up such a tiny portion of the population. Taehyung would surely feel a lot better if he had someone else to hang out with who shared his experiences. Jungkook’s lips set in a firm line.
For the most part, Jungkook has been lucky. His parents didn’t question the choices he made or the way he likes to dress. The guys on campus think it’s hot, rather than harassing him for it. But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t dealt with hatred thrown his way, or things that people have assumed about him. Back at school, before everyone’s attention was diverted by either presenting or making college admissions, people didn’t react well.
He stopped wearing skirts for a while, after getting hit one too many times.
But he’s not scared here. He doesn’t want Taehyung to be scared of anything either.
So when it comes time to get ready for the party, he takes a deep breath and takes out some of his prettiest clothes from the closet, aware that Taehyung is watching him. He lays them on the bed to admire, and then when he meets Taehyung’s eyes he holds up two skirts on their hangers. “Which one do you think?”
Taehyung stares, and Jungkook is sure he sees his throat bob with a swallow. He slides off his headphones. “I – I don’t know.”
“This one goes nicely with the shirt but this one shows off my legs…” Jungkook muses.
“I like the purple one,” says Taehyung after he seems to gather himself.
“You’re right. Me too.”
He takes his time over dressing up, even more than usual before a party. It’s a different type of armour, his party armour. The party armour involves glitter.
Everything is crammed onto his desk where he had to move it from Taehyung’s, but he manages well enough, starting on his face with the smoothest cream in his collection right up to the long-lasting matte on his lips to protect from the drinks that he’ll have tonight, to the violet lenses that match his clothes. All the while, he senses Taehyung watching, and the back of his neck turns red.
With a sharp breath, he turns to face him as he clasps his favourite locket around his neck and slips into his heaviest boots with their thick, stomping soles. “How do I look?” Never has there been a shake in his voice when he’s asked such a question, but looking straight at Taehyung feels different to looking at alphas, who he knows will stumble over their words in their haste to praise him.
Taehyung smiles. It’s an unreadable smile. Just a smile. “You look incredible.”
The flush creeps further up his neck. He doesn’t usually feel this hot when someone says a nice thing to him. A nervous giggle very, very nearly escapes his lips. He manages to right himself just in time. “Thanks.”
“I wish I had your confidence.”
Jungkook opens his mouth and then closes it, because for once he doesn’t know what to say. After a second, he manages to speak. “I wasn’t always confident. I had to fake it for a really long time before I could make it. You can fake it too, like tonight at the party, and eventually it’ll start to feel real.”
“I’ll try,” says Taehyung, and he glances up and down Jungkook’s body one more time. “I mean it: you look amazing. All of the alphas are going to be falling over each other for your attention.”
~
Not that he would have expected anything less of them, but Jungkook is relieved when his friends accept Taehyung’s company without hesitation. Jimin must have been briefed by Namjoon because he doesn’t even react to the unusualness of having a beta in their midst. In fact, he doesn’t mention it at all. They greet Taehyung as Jungkook’s new roommate, introduce themselves, and ask after his film studies. The same can’t be said for some of the people at the party.
They stare.
They talk behind their hands.
And all the time, Jungkook shoots them looks that he hopes could kill, but he’s never been very intimidating. His eyes are too wide and gentle.
“Let’s get a drink,” he says, trying to beam as though this is excellent fun, when he sees Taehyung beginning to shrink in on himself.
Jimin has already found the makeshift bar, and hands out small plastic cups, the kind that families might take on a picnic, before filling them with liquor. The music is already pounding, and though the hour is early enough Jungkook wonders how long it will be before the university send people to shut the party down. They usually allow them a couple of hours of fun before pulling the plug.
The volume of the music is one thing, but the overwhelming scent is another. Cramming this many alphas and omegas into one space with alcohol flowing freely is a strong cocktail.
He wonders whether Taehyung is affected by it. He wants to ask, but such questions seem intrusive. They suggest an otherness, which is the last thing he wants Taehyung to feel.
“You came!” shouts a voice, and Jungkook turns to see two of the alphas from the cafeteria. They must already be several drinks in because one of them is having to support the other by the elbow. “Jungkook came!”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t get any better offers,” he says lightly, draining his first drink.
Even before the shout, his presence hadn’t gone unnoticed. Alphas have started to turn towards his side of the room on an instinct. A lot of other omegas don’t like him, but Jungkook can’t help it; he’s always commanded attention. The couple of alphas that he’s got as far as messing around with (and there have been very few) have told him that his scent is intoxicatingly inviting. Jungkook doesn’t pick up on it so much himself, unless he’s in heat when it becomes stronger, but they’ve all described it.
Vanilla, cinnamon, like something sweet that’s been freshly baked.
“Who’s your friend?” There’s a hint of confrontation in the tone.
Jungkook glances to his left. “Taehyung,” he says, giving him a reassuring smile. “Taehyung is my roommate.”
“Shit,” one of them laughs. “I never knew they paired up omegas with his kind.”
“Oh fuck you,” mutters Jungkook, and he takes Taehyung’s wrist to pull him away from them.
“No one’s going to want me here, Jungkook.”
“I want you here!” he says, finding a couch for them to sit down on. Namjoon and Jimin stay nearby, though Jimin entices Namjoon to a dance, and Jungkook knows they want to keep an eye on them. There are few moments that make Jungkook wish he’d presented as an alpha, but he would like to be able to go places without people worrying about him, and without having to worry about himself. It must be nice, he thinks, to walk around at night alone without a care in the world.
He watches intently until Taehyung sips at his drink with a small, shy smile. “They’re all watching you.”
“I don’t care, they watch me all the time,” Jungkook says. “Now, tell me more about you. Where did you grow up?”
“All sorts of places,” grimaces Taehyung. “I was born in Daegu but we moved around a lot when I was a kid.”
“What do your parents do for a living?”
“Can we talk about literally anything other than my parents?”
Jungkook swallows. It’s easy to forget that not everyone gets along with their parents as well as he does. “Yeah, no, sure. I’m sorry. Are you in your second year too?”
“Third.”
“Then can I call you hyung?” grins Jungkook, close to a provocation. It’s meant to be playful, but Taehyung just gives him a genuine smile.
“Of course.”
Alphas gravitate towards their couch. Usually at a party Jungkook would humour their attention, but he can see that Taehyung is uncomfortable. He pulls him by the hand again to find somewhere else in the house to hang out, and they end up near to the speakers. A mixed group of alphas and omegas are playing spin the bottle in the middle of the room but there’s space for the two of them to slip along the wall and find a corner to keep talking.
“You know this song?” shouts Jungkook.
“I snuck out of school when I was sixteen to go to see them!” grins Taehyung, and it’s the first time that Jungkook has seen him look relaxed since they crossed the threshold.
“Would you say you were something of a rebel at school, Kim Taehyung?”
He never gets to know the answer to the question because at that moment he catches the strong, saturated scent of alpha behind him, and he turns, irritated to have been interrupted again.
“Come dance with us, Jungkook!” It’s the drunker of the guys who asked him to come tonight.
“I’m busy. Maybe later.” Even as he turns back to Taehyung, he feels a hand on his hip, and that just about does it. They can whistle, they can shout, but he doesn’t like them touching him. He swings back around, pushing hard at the alpha’s chest until he backs up two steps. “Don’t touch me!” he snaps.
“What’s your problem? It’s just a dance. You got all dressed up for us - ”
Jungkook looks around for Jimin or Namjoon, but they’re still in the other room. “Back off. I wouldn’t dance with you if you were the last alpha at the party.”
The alpha makes a grab for him then, a lunge for his waist that catches him off guard, and he’s surrounded by his scent before he can reel away, hitting hard at his chest. Jungkook can work out five times a week but his body doesn’t stand up to the natural muscle tone of an alpha. He knows it’s stupid to panic – that he’s surrounded by people at a party and Namjoon and Jimin are only a room away – but his instincts scream to get away and he kicks out hard until he connects with flesh.
No sooner does the alpha take a rougher grip on him, grunting a curse, than he hears a sickening thud of fist on bone, and he isn’t the one throwing the punch.
What was a grunt turns to a howl of pain and Jungkook stumbles back as the alpha relinquishes his grasp.
“He told you to back off!” snarls Taehyung. It isn’t like the threatening growl of an alpha with its innate power. It’s a sound of disgust, of contempt, and of anger. He closes his hand into a fist as if to show that he isn’t scared to hit him again.
The alpha holds his bloodied nose with one hand, staring at them in astonishment. The whole room has gone quiet until the music plays undisturbed. Taehyung, who can’t be any stronger in the face of an alpha than Jungkook is really, steps in front of him, holding out his other hand to keep him from stepping forwards. Jungkook’s desire to fight stands in conflict with his need to let someone else take care of him.
Fucking omega instincts.
“What’s going on?” A familiar voice, and Jungkook exhales in relief at the sight of Namjoon pushing his way through the crowd. Jimin kicks the bottle from the game out of the way and takes Jungkook’s hand.
“Nothing. Misunderstanding,” the alpha hisses, wiping his blood on his sleeve. Perhaps he’s realised that harassing an omega isn’t a good look in front of all these people. Perhaps he’s just realised that he’s outnumbered with the arrival of the two alphas. Either way, he backs away, stalking from the room.
“Are you okay?” Jimin glares at anyone and everyone. “What did he do?”
“Just…” Jungkook swallows. His voice is shaking. “I’m fine.”
Namjoon watches the guy go, unspeaking.
“Taehyung protected me.”
“Let’s get out of here.” Jimin steers him by the shoulders, but when Jungkook looks back he sees Taehyung flexing out his fist as Namjoon steps up beside him.
They escape to the campus street together, and it’s a relief to inhale sharp, cool, early spring air rather than the overwhelming scents of the party. Not wanting to appear too shaken, Jungkook puts a smile on his face, but it’s obvious when his friends look at him that they see right through it, so he looks down instead and searches for pockets to shove his hands into, only to realise that this outfit has none.
“Here,” says Taehyung, the first to slip off his jacket to put over his shoulders.
Jimin looks impressed. “Taehyung smacked the guy? Nice.”
“My hand feels like I hit a wall,” Taehyung mutters. “Shit, chivalry hurts.”
It starts with a knock on the door and by the end of the day it’s a fist in a face. One day is all it takes for him to see that Taehyung is exactly the sort of person he wants to have in his life. That’s how Jungkook finds his best friend.
~