Chapter Text
At twenty-four years old, Yeonjun celebrates his second wedding anniversary. His alpha asks that he make dinner reservations at whatever restaurant, so Yeonjun finds a steakhouse in Apgujeong. His alpha gives him a budget and tells him to order himself whatever anniversary gift he wants, so he purchases a nice pair of loafers.
Juwon, Yeonjun’s 29 year old alpha, has recently taken an interest in getting fit, so Yeonjun buys him a membership and personal training package at a luxury gym nearby. The only physical thing he receives is an information packet and an ID card, so he buys a cute envelope and covers it with stickers. Juwon’s always liked Yeonjun’s affinity for small, cute things.
Brand new black loafers fidgeting under the table, Yeonjun slides the pink envelope across the table to Juwon. He’s uncomfortably full, steak and wine pushing his stomach out into the shape Juwon wants it to be.
Juwon smiles at the envelope, rubbing his thumb across one of the textured stickers. “Cute,” he says.
“Alpha,” Yeonjun urges, nudging Juwon’s hand. “Don’t you want to open my present?”
Juwon opens it, his large hands and thick fingers dwarfing the tiny envelope. He looks at his gift and back up at Yeonjun, an eyebrow quirked. “Trying to tell me something?”
“What?”
Juwon doesn’t explain, just leafs through the packet. “Jesus, this gym looks insane.”
“It is!” Yeonjun says, wiggling in his seat. “It’s the best in Seoul.”
“How much did it cost?” Juwon asks.
Yeonjun smiles. “It’s not polite to tell.”
“Tell me anyway.”
Yeonjun grins, excited by his splurge. He’s never spoiled his alpha quite this much before. “It’s a six-month long membership, for one million won .”
Juwon’s eyes widen. “Oh. Wow. That’s a lot.”
Yeonjun nods. “Yeah, well, I thought I should spend more than I did on my shoes, right? Since you’re the alpha.”
Juwon sighs deeply. “You really didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.”
“You don’t have to get me presents at all,” Juwon says, shaking his head.
Yeonjun looks at him quizzically. “It’s our anniversary. Of course you need a gift.”
“It’s just that you ‘buy’ me these gifts, but they aren’t really gifts, because you buy them with my money.” Juwon’s face is placid, his tone smooth like a pond on a windless day. His voice is never harsh, but it doesn’t need to be: the words are enough.
Juwon goes on. “If it’s my money anyway, then I can decide how to spend it. Do you understand?”
“You would have been upset if I had come here empty-handed.”
“Don’t talk back to me.”
Yeonjun looks down at his lap. As an adolescent, his arguing was acceptable, even encouraged. Now, it’s a habit that needs to be curbed.
“I’m sorry, Alpha,” Yeonjun says. “I thought this would be good for you.”
“It’s a little backhanded, Yeonjun. A gym membership, really?”
A moment passes as understanding trickles down Yeonjun’s spine like poison, and he shakes his head frantically. “No! It’s just that you’ve been talking about wanting to get fit and put on some muscle.”
“You want me to be big so that I can match you?” Juwon asks.
Yeonjun swallows, trying to quell the hurt that erupts in his stomach. He knows he’s broad for an omega. A little tall, a little heavy. But he has a pretty face: lips round like a doll’s, cheeks rosy and healthy. He thought that was enough to make him desirable.
“I didn’t mean to imply anything like that,” Yeonjun mumbles, eyes trained on the table. Red, translucent juice trickles out of a forgotten piece of Juwon’s steak. “It wasn’t meant to be an insult.”
Juwon stares at Yeonjun for a long moment, his face hard as marble, until it shatters. “I’m sorry,” he says, suddenly. He reaches across the table to take Yeonjun’s hand. “It’s a nice present. I’m being a dick. I just had a stressful day at work.”
“Oh,” Yeonjun says. He wants to be stubborn like he was as a teenager, when everyone thought he would be an alpha. His parents were proud of their son’s steadfastness and ambition until he presented. Now, he needs to be a good omega. “That’s alright, Alpha. Do you want to talk about it?”
***
Here is Yeonjun’s today, yesterday, and tomorrow:
7:45 AM: Wake up fifteen minutes before Juwon’s alarm to make him a coffee with the french press. Start making Juwon’s lunch box.
8:30 AM: Send his husband off to work with a kiss. Eat breakfast. Feed the cat.
8:45 AM to 1 PM: Clean while listening to audiobooks. Juwon likes things clean, and Yeonjun likes to do things perfectly. This is his full-time job now, after all.
1 PM: Lunch and free time. He used to spend this time writing, but these days, he doesn’t have much to write about. Instead, he reads at a nearby cafe.
5 PM: Start working on dinner, in the unlikely case that Juwon gets home on time today. Keep dinner warm in the likely case that he doesn’t.
Between 6 and 10 PM: Eat dinner with Juwon and clean up.
11 PM: Have sex with Juwon. Lie on his back for ten minutes afterwards to increase chances of conception.
12 AM: Take birth control.
It’s on one of these every days — early August, late afternoon — when Yeonjun talks to another alpha. He sits at his usual cafe, where art lines the wall and jazz music drips from the speakers. He’s brought Juwon here a few times, but he typically comes alone. A younger omega, Beomgyu, works there and occasionally brings free pastries to Yeonjun’s table.
Physically, he’s everything an omega should be: delicate wrists and doe-eyes, a tiny waist and elegant posture. Petite and so easily hurt: perfect. Maybe his appearance will make up for everything else.
When an unmated alpha walks in, he yells out his name — “Soobin!” — and bounds across the restaurant to hug him tightly. There’s no respect, no distance, no recognition of the fact that alphas want to be treated with deference.
In Yeonjun’s hometown, Beomgyu would never find a good mate, acting like that. But things are different in Seoul, and some omegas don’t even want mates here. It’s their choice, Yeonjun supposes. If they look back on it ten years from now, childless and lonely and undesirable, it’s not Yeonjun’s problem.
Yeonjun returns his attention to his book. He writes in the margins and takes notes and pretends his thoughts still matter. Ever since he graduated from college and got married, he rarely gets the chance to use his mind. He sometimes looks back his honors thesis and wonders how he could possibly be the same person who wrote it. He used to be so smart.
He wants to start writing again, but what could he write about? How he cried about overcooking chicken last Tuesday? How he threw a glass across the room when he spent hours on a new recipe, only for his husband to pull an all-nighter at the office? The white cat hair he can’t get off of his husband’s black suits no matter how many times he lint-rolls them? The fucking laundry?
At least he has his books and his cookies from the sweet, perfect-looking omega.
“Excuse me.” Standing above Yeonjun is the alpha, Soobin: sweet eyes, lips like a bow. “This is the only other seat available,” he says, tilting his head towards the other chair at Yeonjun’s table.
There are only five tables at this cafe, and all of them are taken by students or freelancers: people who actually deserve the space they’re taking up.
Yeonjun closes his book. “Oh, of course. I’ll go.”
Soobin’s eyes widen. “No! I just meant, is it alright if I sit here with you?”
“With me?”
Soobin nods. “If you don’t mind sharing the space…”
Yeonjun considers how it will look — a married omega, sharing a table with a strange, unmated alpha. “You can have the table, alpha,” he says.
“I really don’t need to the whole table,” Soobin says. “And you were here first, I don’t want to kick you out…”
Soobin should be able to smell that he’s mated, but he may just have a weak nose. Yeonjun places his hand on top of his book and tilts his ring finger towards the light. Soobin’s eyes follow the movement.
“I don’t mean anything by it,” Soobin says. “But if you’re uncomfortable, I totally get it. I can just find somewhere else.”
Why is this alpha so polite, so considerate? So submissive?
“It’s okay,” Yeonjun says. “You can sit.”
Across the room, Beomgyu stares at them, poker-faced. Yeonjun pushes down his rage. How could Beomgyu, so loud and obnoxious, judge him?
He stares at his book but can’t concentrate enough to read. Soobin works on his laptop and doesn’t look at Yeonjun, so Yeonjun can look at him. Short, thick hair tickles the top of his forehead, and his soft cheeks twitch occasionally as he works. He has an aura of cleanness, as if he’s always freshly showered. He smells of pine.
“What are you working on?” The words tumble out of Yeonjun in a whisper. “Alpha,” he adds.
“I’m just studying.”
It keeps on coming. “What are you studying?”
“Um, history and politics.”
“Cool.” Shut up, shut up. “What do you want to do once you graduate?”
“Law school, probably.”
“Wow,” Yeonjun muses, and abruptly returns to himself. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”
“No, it’s okay.” He smiles, his teeth slightly crooked, cute. “I really don’t mind.”
“If you say so. I’m just reading, I don’t have deadlines or anything, so…”
“Are you a student?”
“No, I graduated two years ago.”
“What do you do now?”
“I’m married. I. don’t work.”
“Oh. Forever?”
Yeonjun’s cheeks are heavy weights against his smile. “Yeah. I like staying — My husband wanted a stay-at-home omega.”
Soobin frowns. “To each their own.”
This history major, this future lawyer, must have more to his opinion than that.
“I majored in Writing and Literature, though,” Yeonjun says. “I had a few short stories and poems published.”
Soobin frowns more, or maybe Yeonjun is just imagining it. He must look so pathetic. He sometimes wishes that he hadn’t married so successfully, so that he could have stayed in his little home town where everyone does what he’s done. But this is what he wanted, isn’t it? What his parents want for him. A well-educated, successful alpha whose career calls him to Seoul. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about; he did the right thing.
But he feels so silly compared to everyone else here. Everyone else with jobs and passions and something to do. You’ll feel better once you have a baby, Juwon always says, but the thought makes Yeonjun sick.
“Oh, so your husband supports you while you focus on writing?”
Yeonjun stares at the table. “Yeah. I write all the time.”
Before Soobin can ask any questions about his non-existent work, Yeonjun looks back at his book and plugs in his headphones.
Not a moment later, he squeezes his eyes short and berates himself for being rude to the alpha. That’s not how a good omega acts. He grips his book so tightly that his nails leave divots in the paper. He tries to make his breathing motionless.
An hour or so later, Soobin puts his laptop into his bag. Yeonjun sighs deeply, in relief that Soobin’s leaving and in sadness that he’ll be gone. He’ll likely never see him again.
“Can I ask your name?” Soobin asks.
Yeonjun’s an omega who he can’t fuck — why should he care?
“I’m Yeonjun,” he says.
“Yeonjun,” Soobin repeats, and his name sounds so pretty coming out of Soobin’s mouth. “If you don’t mind, can I read some of your work? The stuff you said you got published.”
Yeonjun blinks at him. How nice it is to have someone who cares, or has the compassion to pretend to. There’s so much wrong with this interaction: caring about his professional achievements when he’s supposed to focus on domestic life, chatting with alphas for no good reason.
A good omega doesn’t refuse an alpha, Yeonjun reasons, as he writes down the names of the magazines and gives them to Soobin.
“Can I—“ Soobin shakes his head and stops talking. “You come to this cafe often?”
“Almost every day.”
“Maybe I’ll see you again some time,” Soobin says, blushing deeply, smelling nervous and embarrassed. He rushes out of the cafe before Yeonjun can respond.
A few moments later, Beomgyu comes over with a cookie and plops down. He leans forward. “Super cute, right?”
“You like him?”
Beomgyu laughs. “I mean for you!”
“I’m mated.”
“Yeah, you’ve come here with him, right? He’s not that great.”
“What? He’s my husband. He’s perfect.”
Beomgyu’s eyes widen. “You’re married?”
Yeonjun glances down as his book, where his own words are scribbled illegibly over someone else’s neat, published ones.
He closes the book and leaves.