Chapter Text
“So, San-ssi, what’s it like being the only alpha in ATEEZ?”
San let a natural smile spread across his face as he looked at the interviewer. “It’s like being in any other pack, I suppose. We all love and care for each other regardless of subgender.”
“Still, it must be fun, right?” The interviewer, an alpha, asked, laughing salaciously.
San’s smile froze on his face.
“To deal with heats and all…” The interviewer trailed off.
San twisted his fingers together in his lap, blocked from the cameras by Yunho’s broad back in front of him. He glanced at Hongjoong-hyung involuntarily—
Hongjoong-hyung let out a laugh as well, even though San knew how irritated he must’ve been, and rightly so. “We’re far too busy with preparations for out comeback—I’m afraid dance practices are the most of the exertion we get nowadays.”
Dealing with simple questions about being the only alpha he could do, but they hadn’t gotten a suggestive question since the first few interviews after he’d finally presented. The company had put a swift end to those.
They still weren’t far enough along in their career to openly call out things like this, especially not in their home country. So gentle deflection was the best they could do.
But their manager had a flat look from behind the camera, and the interviewer rapidly moved on.
They finally managed to shuffle out of their and into the vans, San curled up in one seat with Wooyoung, Yeosang and Hongjoong-hyung around him, the other four in the other van.
“God, what an asshole,” Wooyoung said immediately. “Who does he think he is, asking questions like that?”
Hongjoong-hyung sighed. “You’re right, but it’s fine. It’s over.”
Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “Thinking that we’re all Sannie’s harem or something.”
“Wooyoung,” Yeosang said, voice low.
Wooyoung glanced over at San. “Ah—I didn’t mean it like that.”
“It’s fine,” San said, shaking his head. He turned to look out the window as the manager began driving. The car was silent as they travelled, either because everyone was tired and half-asleep, or because they were ruminating over that awful interviewer. It left San alone with his thoughts.
He knew he was living plenty of alphas’ dream—one alpha, seven omegas in a makeshift pack.
Some people really must’ve thought it was a harem. Like it was the olden days, seven omegas tending to his ‘needs,’ or whatever. Which was nothing but disgusting.
If only they knew it wasn’t true.
It was Seoul, the 21st century. Things were far too progressive for that, and especially in his pack. The others didn’t really care that he was an alpha, they all treated each other equally. In bed, too, San knew that the others were remarkably versatile. Not that he joined them much. Or at all, now that he’d presented.
Well. They would’ve been like that even if he really was an alpha.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t.
That wasn’t something anyone else knew, of course.
The van rolled to a stop. The sky wasn’t that dark outside, a welcome change from the usual night time drives courtesy of their hectic schedule. But now the comeback was just about winding up, and that meant less work for them. Plus a break in the future soon.
San really needed that break to come.
He made it up till their dorm with the others, too tired to gauge their energy levels and states of mind. Wooyoung hadn’t cooked, so there was a brief, playful fight for where to takeout over that San excused himself from. He wasn’t very hungry anyways.
The others successfully distracted with their argument outside didn’t notice him shutting the door to his and Yunho’s room, or locking it. Their voices were muffled once San was inside, a welcome change for his aching head.
He dropped to the ground.
His legs were so weak, that he couldn’t keep himself up any longer. The floor was cold but he couldn’t bring himself to care, wrapping his arms around his knees and pulling them to his chest.
And then he just…breathed.
One of the many side effects of those suppressants pills he was taking regularly was quickness of heart. There was also the nausea, dizziness, weakness, migraines and apparently mood swings, but—
Well. He was bearing it. He’d bear it.
He had to.
He hauled himself up before the others could realize he’d been gone for too long, changing out of his clothes. He indulged in wearing Yunho’s—he was hiding his scent, but he could still find comfort in his packmate’s.
It was comforting, Yunho’s sweet peach making the tension sink from his shoulders automatically. And when he got back outside, most of the others had washed off their own scent blockers, making the dorm sing with sugary, saccharine notes.
Except for his harsher, fire-in-a-forest scent. San always tried not to focus on that.
The others always laughed about it—how funny it was that San had a scent so similar to one of the flavours of those alpha scent sprays, the ones that people used to cover up their own scents temporarily.
What a coincidence, indeed.
It was fine. San had been glad to pick this scent, because it was a bit similar to his own. He’d only smelled himself once, when he’d presented, but he’d never forgotten what it had been like. It had felt so—right.
And then San had covered it up.
But it was okay. He was good at tuning out the fiery scent of the spray and focusing on the sweetness of the others. It almost made him feel like he was letting his real scent out too.
“What are we ordering?” He asked, sitting at the table. Most of the others were just finishing washing up or changing, but Mingi and Hongjoong-hyung were already done.
“Fried chicken and tteokbokki,” Hongjoong-hyung said, face sour. “Yeosangie and Seonghwa…convinced us all.”
San laughed. He didn’t mind either of those things. The thought of fried chicken was appealing—he might even be able to keep some of it down.
“And our comeback is almost over, so we don’t have to eat super healthy anymore,” Mingi said, stretching his long arms above his head. He gave San a pointed look. “That means you, you know.”
San forced a smile at him. He wasn’t losing weight because of a diet, but it wasn’t like he could tell them that. “Yes, yes, I’ll eat well.”
“You better,” Hongjoong-hyung said, giving him a stink-eye. “I want to see you fattening up over the break.”
San gave him a thumbs-up, neglecting to mention that they probably wouldn’t see him much during the break. Or at all.
“Guys, heads up.”
San twisted in his seat to see Yeosang walking towards them, hair damp and biceps out. “Wooyoung is talking about watching Doctor Strange.”
“No!” San and Mingi protested in unison.
“You’ve already watched it once,” Yunho said, and how long had he been sitting in the living room? “Are you still scared of it?”
“It was scary,” San mumbled, looking down.
“I haven’t watched it and I don’t want to,” Mingi agreed. “If Sannie says it’s scary what about me?”
Yeosang shrugged. “Wooyoung really wants to, though.”
San exchanged a look with Mingi, both of them nodding determinedly. Wooyoung was not going to bully them into watching this.
Wooyoung bullied them into watching it.
Somehow San found himself on the couch between Jongho and Seonghwa-hyung, a bowl of tteokbokki in his lap and the marvel logo on screen.
He turned to glare at Wooyoung.
“I’m sure it’s not that scary,” Wooyoung said.
“It is,” San muttered. Seonghwa-hyung hummed, making a so-so gesture with his hand. San scowled at him.
Luckily for him—though the same couldn’t be said for Mingi—San had watched this movie before. He knew roughly where the jumpscares came, where the tension started ramping up. This meant he could just curl into himself and pretend not to be scared.
After another of Mingi’s blood-curling screams, San saw Hongjoong-hyung’s head turn to him. “Oh, Sannie’s holding it down well,” he said, sounding impressed.
Seonghwa-hyung laughed, patting San’s hair. “Our brave alpha.”
San’s stomach dropped.
Suddenly he wasn’t watching the movie anymore, the images on the screen racing by in a colorful blur. His packmates were chattering, laughing, clinging to each other around him and San just—
San just sat there.
He just sat there, his own smoke-and-trees scent instantly impossible to ignore, filling his nose until all he could smell was burning wood, flames and twigs in an inferno that was burning him up, burning him up till nothing was left but smoke—
Mingi screamed.
San snapped out of it, panting for breath, desperately trying to breathe in the sweet scents of his packmates. He turned his face into Jongho’s neck, taking in gulps of the chocolate coffee.
Jongho just wrapped an arm around him without teasing, and San was glad for it.
He pulled off when he felt more stable, this time embarrassment burning at him instead, though if any of his packmates had noticed they didn’t say anything. Seonghwa-hyung leaned his head on San’s shoulder, supplementing Jongho’s scent with his own floral, earthy wine.
He stayed like that until the movie ended, squished between Jongho and Seonghwa-hyung. And then the others started shifting, getting up.
“We’re heading into the pack room tonight,” Yunho said, winking lewdly. “Me and Wooyoungie. Who’s going to join us?”
To no one’s surprise, Mingi and Yeosang agreed. And then to everyone’s surprise, the hyungs did too.
Hongjoong-hyung shrugged when everyone stared at him. “Comeback is ending, it’s fine to indulge a little.”
So the weight of everyone’s attention turned on San and Jongho.
San stood up, ready to make a hasty exit. “Ah, I’m…really tired tonight.”
As expected, his packmates’ faces fall.
“We’re all coming,” Seonghwa-hyung said, coaxing and sweet. “Come on, we won’t exert you too much.”
San shook his head, backing away. “No, I really—I just want to sleep.” And it was the truth. He was probably going to pass out as soon as his head hit the pillow.
“You never want to come,” Wooyoung grumbled.
That was also true. Well, not the want part—it was more accurate that he couldn’t ever join them, at risk of exposing his biggest secret.
“Wooyoung,” Yeosang scolded. He glanced over San critically. “You do look tired.”
San nodded rapidly, impossibly grateful. “Yeah, I’ll just—” He pointed over his shoulder. “I’ll just go now.”
Without waiting for an answer, he speed-walked out of there, into his and Yunho’s room. He scrambled up to his bed right after shutting the door, hoping the others would just move on.
And…they did.
The pack room was soundproof, but someone must have left the door open, because San could hear soft moans starting up, and the honeyed scents only increasing. And—well—it did things to him.
It wasn’t like he stayed away because he didn’t want to fool around with his packmates—they were all so, so attractive sometimes it was all he could do not to stare at them—but if he got with them there would be no way to explain it when he started slicking up.
Like he was now.
San grimaced, shifting at the feel of the slight wetness between his legs. He rolled over to fish for the scent neutralizing spray that he’d stashed, among other things like suppressant pills and scent blockers and alpha scent sprays, between his mattress and the wall. They were safe up here anyways—Yunho never came to his bunk. For cuddling San always went down.
He sprayed it over himself just to be careful. He’d slept with the others during their heats, but that had only happened before he’d presented. Omegas could suppress three of their four heats and still remain healthy, which was what his pack did. They hadn’t had their one heat ever since he’d presented, but when they did…San dreaded the thought of all the pills he’d have to take.
He was trying to hide his omega, not trying to kill it entirely.
If he took any more suppressant pills than he was now—it wasn’t like he was exactly healthy now either, but—still, it wouldn’t end well. Better to use scent blockers and sprays instead.
He spritzed the alpha scent over himself too, even though it made his insides wither in disgust. Still, it would hide the smell of his arousal even from anyone else in the room.
And it was a good thing he’d done that, because in just a few minutes there was a knock on the door.
San cleared his throat, forcing himself to sound energetic. “Come in!”
He turned his head just in time to see Jongho’s round face poke in. “Jongho-yah,” he said, half sitting up. “Is something wrong?”
Jongho shook his head, coming in and closing the door behind himself. “Nothing. I’m sleeping here.”
San stared at him. “You’re not spending the night with the others?”
“Don’t really want to,” Jongho said, and then to San’s shock he began climbing the ladder.
“You’re—you’re sleeping here? With me?” San stuttered.
Jongho nodded, avoiding his eyes.
Jongho—well, Jongho wasn’t the biggest fan of skinship, everyone knew that. He didn’t often cuddle with the others while sleeping, but—if he wanted to right now, San wouldn’t make him feel shy for it. Still, he tried one last time. “You don’t have to come here just for me, you know. If you want to spend time with the others you can.”
“But I want to spend time with you,” Jongho said stubbornly, stretching out so his body was squished next to San’s on the tiny bunk.
San sighed. “You don’t have to feel bad—”
“I don’t,” Jongho said, lips pursed in what he would probably deny till the ends of the earth was an adorable pout.
“Alright, then,” San said, letting it go. When Jongho put his mind to something there was no dissuading him. “How have you been lately? Tired?”
Jongho nodded, eyes staring up at the ceiling. “Mmm, but it’s almost over. We can rest soon.”
San let out a breath. “Yeah.” Rest.
Jongho turned his head a little, eyes dropping to San. “Actually, hyung, I’ve been…worried about you.”
San’s heart spiked. “What?” He said, keeping his voice normal.
Jongho shrugged. “You’ve been, I don’t know, different, since you presented.”
San swallowed. “Well, it’s a major life change. I guess I’m still adjusting.”
Jongho nodded, lips still pursed. “Yeah, I guess so, but…still.” He sighed. “Is it because you’re the only alpha?” At San’s questioning look, he added, “It was easier for me to present because the other hyungs were omegas too, they helped me adjust. You don’t have that.”
“Yeah,” San allowed slowly. “There’s really no one who I can talk to about what I’m going through, I guess.” Literally. “Not that you guys don’t try, of course, but—”
“But we can’t properly understand,” Jongho finished. “Of course not. But, hyung, there are other—other alpha idols, your friends. You can talk to them, right?”
San nodded mutely. Of course he couldn’t.
Jongho clicked his tongue softly. “I hope you’ll get through it. Whatever it is. And—don’t worry about your presentation. We all love you.”
San cleared his throat, forcing away tears. “I will. I love you too. Thanks, Jongho.”
His mind, unwittingly, drifted back to the day he’d presented, nearly nine months ago. The day all this had all started, the day San had changed, irrevocably.
He remembered having a fever and staying back at the dorm instead of going to practice, a morning full of cramps before he’d finally collapsed on the floor of the bathroom, the cold tiles against his burning skin.
He remembered feeling the slick between his legs.
He remembered the horror—another omega? In an all-omega pack? Exactly what everyone had been hoping he wouldn’t be, at least so they’d get less flak from the public and people who were offended by the fact that they didn’t have an alpha, that they could live as a pack without one—
He’d thought about his hometown, then.
He’ll be an omega for sure, everyone used to say. Ever since he was a child, small and hiding behind his parents’ legs with one of his many plushies clutched to his chest. Quiet in the schoolroom and church, demure like an omega was supposed to be.
And yet as the years passed, San’s packmates had taught him to be loud, to be free, to really feel like himself. Because of them, San had lost his shyness, gained strength. Because of them, he’d stopped thinking about those words. He’d forgotten about them when time went by without him presenting.
Late presenting was uncommon but not unheard of, and so as each member of Ateez presented omega, one by one, everyone’s hopes turned on San to save them from public scrutiny. And San’s did too.
He’d gotten too used to the recent days, of broad shoulders and confidence, that he’d forgotten what he used to be. A skinny, shy little country boy. He’d almost believed that he really could be an alpha to save his pack, or a beta at the very least—a beta was fine, he really did think he'd end up one after so long of not presenting—
But you should never forget your beginnings.
And his beginnings were a life written out for him as an omega, with maternal grandparents assuring them that they’d find a good alpha for him and paternal grandparents fighting for his right to go out and see the world.
His beginnings were a rural town where, once presented as omega, the most important thing was finding an alpha, starting a pack, starting a family. San had been lucky to have father, who’d supported him—a grandfather who would have killed so that San could live his dreams.
Everyone had been so, so hesitant to send the most-likely-an-omega child out to Seoul—but San had gone, and he’d formed a pack, and they’d been reassured that there would be an alpha to take care of him.
There wasn’t.
Ateez presented omega one after one, and his grandfather passed away, and the pressure heightened. Sannie, come home. Sannie, be sensible now. Sannie, we’ll find a good pack for you—a real one—
Sannie, Sannie, Sannie—
And then he’d presented.
When he’d been curled up on that bathroom floor, pain racing through his abdomen and the scent of sweet, sweet pine floating through the dorm, he’d been terrified.
He’d known, what this meant—for all of them, for him—
As it so happened, they’d run out of heat suppressants, so San had blindly grabbed one of the alpha sprays they used to mask their scents sometimes and had run downstairs to grab some.
Then, he’d swallowed one of the pills—he’d known, he’d known that you shouldn’t suppress your first heat, but in the moment he hadn’t known what to do—and he’d collapsed on the couch, almost immediately.
The others had come home.
San had woken up to delighted exclamations, and in the haze of the confusion he’d realized that the forest fire scent spray was still clinging to his skin, hiding the fresh pine beneath, and he’d—
Everyone had been so happy.
No, scratch that—they’d been so relieved.
So, so relieved—and San would die for some of the burdens to be lifted from their chests, so—so really, what could he do? Tell them the truth? Watch their faces fall? Tell them that they’d have to face the full force of public fire, the shock and the disdain at them being an all-omega pack?
He couldn’t. He hadn’t been able to.
He’d been frozen. He hadn’t said anything, anything at all, even as the hours passed and they called the company and his parents, who’d all been just as relieved as them.
His family had been shocked, but—but glad. Now that San was an alpha, there was no pressure on him to find a proper pack—now he was being congratulated on having a good one, like—
Like he really was an alpha with a harem. It made San’s stomach roll every time he thought about it too much.
But other than that—it was good like this. Even though people must’ve thought San was living the dream, the others didn’t have to face ire over their presentations, and San wasn’t bothered by his family.
And to be honest, it wasn’t like he couldn’t pass for an alpha. He wasn’t small and scrawny anymore—well, hadn’t been. He had broad shoulders and was muscled, even though in the past few months he’d lost some of that muscle. He was still—big, and broad, and—
And so were Yunho and Mingi. To be honest, any of their pack could pass as alphas. Jongho and Yeosang with their muscles, Seonghwa-hyung a provider if there ever was one—
Even Hongjoong-hyung and Wooyoung, despite being small. Hongjoong-hyung was a leader through and through, and Wooyoung was the most fiercely protective person San had ever met, even more than the alphas back home who claimed they’d lay their lives down for their families but really indulged their alpha sides by beating and bruising the people they were supposed to ‘protect’.
His pack had more stereotypically alpha qualities than most alphas San had met.
So what did it mean to be an omega, really? You couldn’t tell by shape or size or demeanour anymore—who would peg Jongho as an omega, if so—it was nothing but a subgender. So it was easy for San to hide what he really was—all he had to do was say he was an alpha, and he’d been believed.
People saw what they wanted to see, anyways. Everyone had secretly hoped San would present as anything except omega, so when he said he had, who would look closer? No one would want to question that.
It was easy. It had been easy, these past eight months. No one had found out. No one had looked, which was good, because—
Because it certainly hadn’t been easy to hide. It hadn’t been easy to deal with the suppressants, the bodily changes. He’d suppressed two whole heats now—it wasn’t the healthiest thing he could be doing, but far more damaging were the suppressant pills he was taking daily.
Those little white pills, so innocent to the sight, but really—really they spread through San’s body, leaving sickness and pain in their wake, leaving San hunched over toilet bowls unable to keep any food in, leaving his body weak at every moment.
It hadn’t been so bad at the beginning. It had been only mild headaches, mild cramps back then. San had had worse injuries in his idol career.
So it had been easy to get through the dance practices and music shows, easy to put on a smile for the camera and their fans.
But recently—
Recently he’d deteriorated, and fast. It wasn’t something San could deny, and it was something the others were all noticing even if they hadn’t been looking. And when they noticed something was wrong—well, that was when they began to really look. And see.
It was a good thing, then, that he didn’t have to pretend much longer. They’d go on a break soon, and San could—San could take care of it then, no matter how much the thought of what he was going to do made his heart flash with horror, and fear, and no no no I can’t—
A snore from Jongho jerked him out of his thoughts.
San glanced over to see that the omega had rolled over in his sleep, curling up a little. He stared at his youngest packmate, heart both clenching and softening at once.
His pack—the hyungs, who had to know something was up with him, but were giving him the time and space to work through it on his own. Wooyoung and Mingi, who knew for sure something was wrong and tried to gently push it out of him. Yeosang, Yunho, who didn’t push but always let him know that he could talk to them, lean on them.
Jongho, who’d left the rest of his pack just so that San wouldn’t be alone, disregarding his hatred of skinship to be near San because he knew it was what San liked—
His pack. They were his real pack, the best one ever, regardless of being all omegas, regardless of what anyone else said. Staring at Jongho’s face, San knew. He’d die for them. He’d do anything for them.
So a couple weeks more of hardship? He could take that, easy, if it was for his pack.