Chapter Text
“So the news is… I have a date!” Jisung reveals, doing little jazz hands at either side of his face.
It is not received the way he thought. He expected shoulder pats, perhaps even cheers for this long-time-coming event, but instead he gets a beat of awkward, tense silence.
Chan blinks, then clears his throat, but doesn’t actually respond.
“You have a what?” Changbin says, in the tone with which someone might say: you have which sexually transmitted disease?
There’s a weird shift in the energy at the cafe, and Jisung is… a little hurt, if he’s being honest. Disappointed, to say the least; he thought that of all people his two best friends would be happy for him. Maybe even excited for him, the way they’ve claimed they would be for years.
“A date with who?” Changbin adds, and now it sounds like: who gave you the sexually transmitted disease?
Jisung flinches, and that suddenly propels Chan into speech. “We are happy for you,” he blurts out, putting his hands out like he’s trying to stop traffic (they are at a nice, quiet cafe, indoors). “Sungie—we are. Happy.”
He’s practically gritting out the words, so it’s not super believable, but Jisung’s spiral slows.
“…Okay.” He looks at Changbin again. “Yay?”
Changbin is looking back at him with a lost kind of stare that feels hard to interpret, which is weird—he would expect it of Chan, but Changbin is never difficult to read; he’s so open and trustworthy, steady and firm and in tune with himself and shit. None of it is relatable to Jisung, but it is a constant in his life; the sky is blue, his parents love him, Changbin is his most self-assured hyung.
The strong coffee and pastry smells make it hard to try to pick out his best friend’s scents in order to gain additional information; both Chan and Changbin wear blockers, as does Jisung, as does everyone in polite (and public) society, so they are muted and nondescript despite how closely the three are crowded around the small table.
“So tell us about them!” Chan prompts, and manages a smile this time. “This is exciting! Why didn’t we—do we know this person? Why didn’t you tell us something was going on?”
Jisung tries to settle into the conversation, but he remains unsettled by the vacant depth in Changbin’s eyes. It’s Chan, leaning forward and patting his knee or shoulder to prompt him for details, and still Chan, cracking a joke about lecturing poor Hana to treat him right.
“And she just… boom. Just… asked you. Out of nowhere.”
Jisung nods, narrowing his eyes at his oldest hyung. “You sound like you think it’s crazy that someone would wanna go out with me,” he accuses lightheartedly. They’ve had so many late night talks in the alphas apartment, so many studio sessions go late because the two experienced members of 3RACHA were therapising Jisung about his total lack of game, where both Chan and Changbin vehemently stated that he was hot, and dateable, and that Many Alphas In His Area were desperate to go out with him, surely.
“Jisung-ah, I’m sure you get why we might be a bit weary of some rando just up and asking you out, out of the blue,” Changbin says (the first thing he’s said in a while). It’s plaintive, almost chastising. Like Jisung is being dense on purpose.
He’s not, because he gets what Changbin is saying. Of course he does; they’ve talked about that a lot too.
“Hana is not some ‘rando’,” he says instead. “She’s an art student at Yonsei. She just happened to pick up my coffee order by mistake, that’s all.”
“Oh, sure, by mistake,” Changbin says. “Easy to confuse, ‘Jisung’ and ‘Hana’, real similar-sounding names.”
Jisung huffs. “They had written my family name on it,” he points out.
“Sungie…” Chan scoots his chair even closer, and his smile is kind. Sweet. It has international heartthrob written all over it, even though all three of them are decidedly behind-the-scenes producers. “Does she know?”
And here, Jisung falters.
The widespread use of scent blockers make navigating his day to day fairly mundane for Jisung, since people can’t tell he’s an omega at a glance or a sniff. At least, not a sniff at a distance that respects his personal space—it’d take a full, proper scenting with the patch on his neck (or removing the patch in public, which is unheard of in this day and age) for anyone to find out.
Thing is, being an omega is pretty damn rare. Alphas and betas make up a vast majority of the population, and omegas are a fetishized, exoticised rarity.
“Yes. I told her.”
Chan nods. “I see.”
For the first time since this strange turn in the conversation, Jisung feels some real dread stir under the anxiety.
“Do you.” He swallows. “You think that’s why she wants to go on a date with me? Because of… you think she has a thing for my kind, or something?” he finishes, mumbling in a low voice by the end.
Suddenly, Chan and Changbin cry out.
“What!”
“No!”
Heads turn to look at their trio. Two boisterous alphas making a scene isn’t exactly unheard of, but this cafe is nice, a little upscale (hyung’s treat, Chan had said) so the general chatter was at a polite level until now.
“Jisung, you’re so cute!” Chan tells him earnestly. “There are so many reasons to want to—people don’t just want to date you because of—no!”
“Yah, Jisung-ah! Don’t be stupid!” Changbin says, looking annoyed. “How could you think that? As if that’s all you have going for you?”
Oh. These are the hyungs he knows and loves.
“If this alpha knows what’s good for her she’s going to treat you nice, and take you to a good restaurant—are you going to a restaurant? What’s the plan for this date? Also when is it?”
“Just make sure you don’t put out, obviously—make sure she doesn’t get the wrong impression, yeah?”
“Right! Save yourself for the fifth one. Or like. The seventh. Really, there’s no reason to rush something like that; not until you’re comfortable and ready—”
They keep talking over each other, finally supportive as Jisung had hoped. It’s sweet, and it makes him feel better, and even though that initial tension lingers in some nondescript way he tries to put it to the back of his mind. Neither Chan nor Changbin has been on a date in a minute, so maybe they are just jealous.
*
Being best friends with two alphas is surprisingly easy. Natural, even. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t bumps along the road.
Jisung met them when he was eighteen and Changbin was nineteen, Chan twenty-one. All three of them were the most frequent utilizers of the recording facilities in the faculty of the arts, and they were among the few students that would come in and log long hours over the weekends. They meshed well together right away, the same hunger and creativity building on each other instead of forcing them to become each others’ competition. They collaborated. Became a team. Soon, a friendship built on mutual respect and admiration formed; a balance well established. When one of the components wavered, the other two stabilized it; a scale that righted itself thanks to the fact that they make up a trifecta.
The first roadblock was the truth about Jisung’s subgender, because the other two didn’t realize Jisung was an omega at the beginning. He made a lot of brash personality choices precisely to obscure the fact, and his little peacocking routine gave the impression he had wanted it to give (and somehow didn’t drive them away).
The night Chan and Changbin found out who he was, six months into their budding friendship, the three of them had gotten high together. It was Jisung’s first trip, which Chan insisted needed to happen in a safe, controlled environment (his apartment at the time). This turned out to be the right call, because Jisung got all sweaty and needy and, well, shockingly horny as a response to the weed. He’s always sensitive, but being high amplified that to an insane degree, making the brush of Chan’s finger-pads against his forearm feel like it went straight to his clit, and the heat from Changbin’s breath feel like steam was pouring down the neck of his hoodie. His pheromones bled through the patch, and he dripped so much slick into his boxers that he could feelt it jostle every time he moved, which only made him hornier. The late hour and fading effectiveness from all of their patches meant a rise in alpha scents, too, as Chan and Changbin’s pheromones also started to surge, and soon Jisung could smell all three of them in the air. Too distinct to go unnoticed.
He will never forget the way Chan, soft-lidded and mouth puffy, had turned to look at him.
“Sungie?” He had croaked, something dark in his eyes.
On Jisung’s other side, a half-asleep-looking Changbin had adjusted himself and made a low inquiring sound. It didn’t require words for Jisung to understand the question.
Are you…?
“Y-yeah, so. Um. I guess there’s something I should tell you…”
He had blurted out the truth in a rush, and he didn’t give them a chance to react before he begged to be taken home.
He was obliged right away; the pre-established dynamic where both seniors took care of him took over. Chan called a ride-share and went with Jisung in the car. He didn’t bring up Jisung’s revelation for the entirety of the drive, and when it was time to say goodnight, all he did was nod and call out: “Same time at studio 8H tomorrow?” like nothing had happened.
After making it to his little dorm, Jisung had fucked himself with a hunger he had never felt before. His dildo was too narrow, and he kept shoving fingers in next to it until he had stuffed practically his entire hand in there alongside it, trying to make it better.
He had his heat early that year.
He never got high with his best friends again.
*
With fertility treatments being what they are these days, betas can get pregnant at similar rates than omegas, so all that sets omegas apart is the amount of slick they produce and the fact that they have hormonal cycles.
Jisung goes through heats twice a year; he gets really horny and sweaty and feverish, and he can’t imagine that it’s all that different from a rut based on what Chan and Changbin have told him. Alas, something about wanting to be penetrated instead of wanting to do the penetrating makes it more salacious to the general population. Omegas are objectified for their increased wetness; their alleged increased libido—even though there is zero evidence of the latter outside of a heat, and the former varies person to person too.
Alphas are supposed to marry betas and betas are supposed to marry alphas, and omegas are the ‘wild roll in the hay’ someone has before settling down. In Jisung’s experience, they are the seducers in a movie where the lead alpha ends up picking the beta-next-door, or the scantily-clad temptors who turn out to be in cahoots with the villain all along at the end of the spy thriller.
Jisung isn’t any of those things. He is clumsy and brash, and his confidence only extends as far as his musical skill, without anything to back up having sexual desirability other than his wetter-than-average hole. Despite that, he has had people do complete one-eighty shifts upon learning of his subgender; suddenly turning a respectful convo into a crass invitation back to their apartment, or even to the back alley behind the bar. Forget using dating apps and setting his subgender accurately; he did that for a handful hours one day and got over a hundred matches; all of them alluding to his being an omega in some way or another, a majority of them lewd.
No, it’s not easy to navigate dating in his particular case, but he can appreciate having two best friends who try their damndest to treat him the same as everyone else. Chan and Changbin are still a bit awkward about certain things; like how they always call it his ‘cycle’ or his ‘time’ instead of his ‘heat’, or the near-panic they both went into when Jisung whined that he needed more blankets for his nest (which led to the Historic Blanket Purchase of 2023, thus ensuring Jisung will have too many blankets for as long as he lives).
But it’s sweet, how hard they try. They never let that revelation alter their relationship. They don’t ask Jisung invasive questions, and they respect his privacy. They are protective of him, but that’s more to do with the fact that he is their dongsaeng, the maknae of their little producing unit. It never becomes overbearing; in fact Jisung delights in being looked after.
For years now, the road has been pretty smooth.
Jisung doesn’t realize they are about to veer in a brand new direction until he's already speeding down the highway.
“So this date you’re going on,” Changbin starts, rubbing his ear like it’s itching. “It’s next week, yeah?”
They are waiting for Chan in the studio and have the room to themselves right now; Chan always brings the coffees and it’s hard to get started working without a little energy kick in the morning. They’ve made the place their own since buying it a year ago; a carefully organized cork-board with posters next to the sultry wood panelling, dark walls, three spinning-chairs and a spotless glass panel that reveals the recording booth. The low lighting makes it cozy and inviting to their guest artists, and the hardware on the mixing table is a powerful SSL that combines analogue with digital, purchased with their pooled paychecks after years of steadily rising popularity.
“Yeah. On Friday.” Jisung nudges Changbin with his foot, spinning a little in his chair.
It’s still a weirdly charged topic, even though he told them about Hana ten days ago. Jisung can’t figure out why.
“Kind of a red flag that she asked to reschedule.”
He nudges Changbin again, a bit harder. “She had winter finals. It’s totally understandable.”
Changbin scoffs. “If you say so.” He watches Jisung fidget and keep spinning side to side for a moment. “You nervous?”
He is. He doesn’t really date much. Okay, he never dates. He has never been in a relationship. Being a virgin at twenty-five makes the stakes of his time with Hana feel higher than they should be, just because of the potential knot on the horizon.
“It’s okay to be nervous, Sungie,” Changbin says. He suddenly traps Jisung’s foot between both of his, stopping his partial spinning. “It’s also okay to change your mind,” he adds, looking down at their feet.
Jisung nods. “I know. I’m not going to change it, I think. I want to go.”
Changbin nods, too. “Okay. So what are you nervous about?”
Jisung tries to free his foot, futilely. “You know,” he mumbles, because he’s certain Changbin does.
The alpha grunts. “No.”
“Yes you do.”
Changbin pins him even harder. “I can’t read your mind, Jisung...”
“Hyuuuung...”
“Is this about how you gave your first kiss to that stupid beta at graduation?”
It’s bait, and Jisung whines louder. “He wasn’t stupid!”
“He tried to feel you up! I was there!”
Jisung had wanted Gyu to do exactly that, but alas both Chan and Changbin interpreted his anticipatory shudder as one of disgust and ripped them apart, Changbin shielding his body while Chan gave the beta a stern lecture on nonverbal cues and the need for continued and enthusiastic consent. Embarrassing enough for his first kiss to happen at the age of twenty-two; worse still for it to be cut short.
“Ugh.” He has failed to win this argument for three years. “Whatever. I’m not worried about kissing her.”
Surprisingly, Changbin’s tone softens at that.
“Are you worried about the other stuff, though?” He asks.
Jisung glares at him, feeling himself blush. “...A little.”
“You know we can give you advice if you ever need, right Sungie?” Changbin asks. He does this thing sometimes where he’ll speak for Chan, too; like they are a sub-unit within 3RACHA. Jisung doesn’t mind it; they shift into different combinations depending on the situation, like when Chan gets extra dad-mode so Jisung and Changbin take the same side instead.
“You’ve never even been with an omega,” Jisung says, knowing he’s being difficult.
“No, but I’ve had sex plenty of times before. There’s no ‘one size fits all’ for it, you get that, right? Having sex with one alpha doesn’t mean I know how to have sex with all alphas, either.”
Jisung suppresses a shiver. They don’t really talk about sex outside of suggestive song lyrics. He is certain Chan and Changbin talk about it with each other, and must have even overheard each other or met their respective overnight partners, but all Jisung knows about them is that Changbin is the more adventurous of the two, having been with both betas and fellow alphas before.
“It’s just... weird. The idea of doing it with a stranger.”
Changbin’s legs clench for a moment. “Well, she won’t be a stranger by the time you choose to sleep with her, right?”
Jisung shrugs. “I guess.”
He finds it difficult to imagine, the idea of being comfortable enough with someone to want to be with them so intimately. The only people he feels truly at ease with see him as their annoying, sleepy little brother (Changbin’s exact words, after Jisung napped on the studio couch one time too many), and would never have sex with him.
“There are other options,” Changbin adds quietly.
His joggers rode up his shins to expose the skin by his ankles, which is gently brushing Jisung’s bare skin. This is not the way Changbin normally touches him, if he does at all—Chan is the touchy-feely overbearing one; Changbin is usually rougher in his manhandling, and doesn’t hug him unless there’s a true crisis, a real reason to initiate contact. The last time was when Jisung’s mom was in the hospital, before they knew she was going to be all right.
“What do you mean?” Jisung asks, genuinely confused.
“Hana is not your only option,” Changbin says.
“She’s literally the only person to genuinely ask me out on a date in months. Not a back-alley quickie, an actual date.” As an omega romantic he’s kind of fighting an uphill battle here. “What are my other options?”
Changbin is looking at him very intently. Under his dark fringe, behind his thick-framed black glasses, his eyes are hooded.
“I meant for the sex stuff. If you want to be comfortable with the person first, you could ask—”
“Good morning!”
Both Jisung and Changbin startle like they heard a gunshot, suddenly untangling their legs and, in Jisung’s case, almost tipping backwards in his rolling chair because he flings himself away.
“Chan-hyung!” Jisung gasps, mind still full of confusing thoughts of sex and comfort and the futility of wanting that with the only two people he trusts.
Chan cocks his head to the side, a four-cup holder with three drinks on it in hand.
“Did I interrupt something?” He asks, grabbing the first cup to give to Jisung.
Jisung’s heart is beating so fast that having coffee seems like a terrible idea, but it feels nice to hold something warm.
“No,” Changbin blurts.
“N-no,” Jisung says.
They sound like they’ve been tried and convicted by a jury of their peers.
Chan looks from one to the other, a shadow of hurt crossing his features. “Oh.”
Jisung’s stomach sinks. Chan’s self-esteem issues are something he is still working on, but Jisung doesn’t want to compound them by obviously lying to his face.
“We were just talking about my date with Hana next week,” he says.
For some reason, that does not ease the tension in Chan’s features. “...Oh. The one she rescheduled?”
Jisung sighs. “I told you, she has finals.”
“You want to be with someone consistent, Jisung. Someone reliable.” Chan hands Changbin his coffee and goes to sit in the middle chair, powering up their set-up. “I’m just saying, she hasn’t set a great precedent before you’ve even gone out.”
Jisung rolls his eyes. “Thanks, hyung; Changbin-hyung already said that, and we’d moved on to how I’m terrified of being a bad lay because I’m a virgin.”
“You—what?” Changbin sputters.
“You’re terrified?” Chan echoes, aghast. “Jisung! You can’t go into this being scared!”
Jisung puts his hands on his cheeks and squishes them, choosing to make light of the situation by whining in his babiest baby-voice.
“I know that! But I don’t know how to fix it, okay?” Chan and Changbin exchange a look. “And don’t say you can teach me about it because you are both sooo experienced,” he adds, slurred through his smushed mouth. “Changbin-hyung already said that too, I get it, I’m the loser of the group, you don’t need to remind me—”
“We could, though,” Changbin says. “We could teach you.”
Jisung drops his hands onto his lap and sits up.
It doesn’t sound like Changbin means it the way Jisung did; like an awkward conversation where they talked him through the steps.
No.
Changbin’s phrasing suggested a hands-on experience.
“Y-you can always come to us for advice, Jisung; you know that,” Chan says, but it’s not... that’s not what Changbin just said. Jisung is almost certain. He’s not imagining the sudden tension in the room; all the humorous over-the-top energy left him when Changbin spoke and now he’s feeling faintly dizzy, a possibility (an excuse) at the tip of his tongue.
To be taught.
“What if I wanted to learn?” He asks, voice small.
Changbin’s chair creaks as he shifts his weight. “Learn about sex?” He asks.
He’s leaning forward; they both are, a reminder that their kind were meant to hunt Jisung’s kind and bring them into the pack by force if needed, to help breed more pups.
“Yeah,” Jisung says. It’s practically a squeak.
Chan’s mouth is hanging open.
“Learn like... we should tell you?”
Jisung’s stomach burns. “I already know the theory.”
Changbin leans so far in that he might have fallen forward if his quads weren’t built like that. “So you want practice,” he says, so faint it’s almost hard to hear him.
“...Yeah?”
There’s a long, loaded silence.
Jisung’s face is on fire; the flush making him feel sweaty and overheated. He was just thinking about how this was an impossible scenario; his ideal first sexual experience being with one of the two people he most adores and feels safe with. And now he’s... asking for it? Throwing an offer out into the air, just to see which of the alphas takes him up on it? If either of them will?
Well, it’s not like he’s confessing to them or something, surely they won’t take this the wrong way. It would just be so... so good, so safe, with one of them. He’s certain of it. It would be the best, and certainly less scary and intimidating than with Hana.
“Jisung.” Chan rolls his chair forward. He spent months picking it out after they bought this beloved little room; obsessing over ergonomics and color-palettes only to end up with a totally black model; Jisung liked it so much that he ended up with the same model in tan. Jisung might be panicking and fixating on something irrelevant. “Are you asking one of us to have sex with you?”
Jisung stares at him, unable to believe the words were said aloud.
Before he can answer, Changbin says: “Which one of us?”
Jisung turns to look at him.
There is no favorite. There never has been; they are his alpha hyungs, his best friends. He loves each of them for different reasons, in different ways, but no one is above the other.
Would they really do this for him? This huge favor to help Jisung gain some confidence before he does it with someone who doesn’t know him as well? It’s so much to ask. But then again Changbin brought it up first, so maybe to him it’s not a big deal?
“Whichever would... whoever is... willing,” he breathes.
“Me.”
“I’ll do it.”
They practically speak at the same time, and immediately turn to look at each other.
“Uh.”
Jisung’s heart is pounding in his throat, unable to believe what’s happening.
“You choose, Jisung,” Chan says. He doesn’t sound like a competitive alpha; the alleged instinct to fight and win against those of his own kind has never defined Chan. He can get competitive about sports and his songwriting and his workouts, but he always defers to his juniors when it comes to things that truly matter. It’s one of the many things Jisung loves about him.
“I. I can’t.”
“Sure you can,” Changbin says. He also isn’t puffing his chest out or trying to make an argument for himself. “It’s your body. You decide.”
Jisung tries. For a brief moment, he weighs what he knows about them and how he feels about them in this impossible scenario, purely for the sexual experience.
Chan, the leader of their group, the eldest, and the first true friend Jisung ever had. He is meticulous, caring, giving, hard-working, and so generous. He is also stupidly gorgeous, with his big nose and kissable lips and broad shoulders and the outline of his dick that Jisung notices when Chan wears a particular pair of pants and sits in a particular way. Chan always walks like he’s packing, confident and bold, but also blushes and squirms when complimented—the man will write the filthiest innuendo into a song and then giggle and pretend it was someone else’s idea. He’d be good in bed, Jisung has no doubt about it; Chan seems like the kind of attentive partner that would help Jisung explore different things without shame. A thorough first. A kind first. A perfect fit.
And then there’s Changbin. He’s closer to Jisung in age but more experienced than either of them. Sometimes he treats Jisung like a younger brother and sometimes like a nuisance, but if Jisung truly deploys the doe-eyes on him he folds like wet paper. He’s so fucking hot, with those arms and that bulk and the face on top of all of that; his pouty little mouth. Jisung knows Changbin can’t multitask, famously complains when having to do two things at once, but if his focus is fixed on something he will pound at it relentlessly until it gets done, exerting himself to his fullest like he does at the gym. He is an effortless flirt; quippy, funny, confident in his masculinity and his subgender, and always standing up for others who are literally or metaphorically weaker than him. Changbin would tease Jisung in bed, probably, to put him at ease, but he wouldn’t make him feel insecure. He’d be supportive and fun. Ideal. Encouraging and sweet, like he is to the artists he records with.
“It’s. We both.” Chan coughs. “I suppose we both have... different experiences.”
Changbin’s eyes widen. “Oh, right. Maybe we could each show you something.”
Jisung emerges from his reverie with blurred vision. “...Huh?”
“Maybe we could.” Changbin ducks his head, deferentially to Chan as the eldest. “Maybe Chan-hyung could have you first, and I. I can. If you still want to. After.”
Jisung’s head is spinning. He’s floating, or swimming—wet. He’s wet.
He’s soaking wet.
Jisung lurches to his feet. His legs are shaking, his womb is cramping with desire, and he just realized that he has leaked enough slick to stain his sweatpants. His incriminatingly grey sweatpants.
“I-I’ll think about it. Thank you so much.” He bows at them, a deep one, and is completely lightheaded when he rights himself. “B-bathroom,” he adds, and scrambles out of the room.
*
He stares down at the slick mess in his underwear in the studio bathroom and tries not to hyperventilate. He thinks of his rarely used stash of underwear liners at home, For the Omega On the Go!, but he didn’t think to wear them today. He only wears them during pre-heat.
He’s the only omega who works in the building as far as he knows, and he has never run into anyone in the omega stalls, but that doesn’t mean he can take care of himself the way his body wants him to. It’s not okay to touch yourself at work. He feels ashamed to even consider it, despite the way he is throbbing inside, and realizing that all it took to get him like this is the discussion they were having (Chan-hyung could have you first...) is humiliating. He’s always thought his hyungs were hot, and yeah he’s thought about them while touching himself once or twice, but this is like Weed Gate all over again. A level of horny that makes him think of altering substances, or heats. He is not due for his heat yet.
In the end, he does his best with a bunch of tissues and stands up, aching. The spot on his sweatpants is tiny, coin-sized and easy enough to hide if no one is looking for it.
When he gets back to their room, he waits five seconds after knocking to open the door, and then does. The familiar black walls, wood panelling, and mix of muted scents gives him both comfort and courage.
“Hey. You okay?” Chan asks right away, frowning.
Changbin is sitting on the couch; Jisung’s not sure why he moved. “Is it stomach cramps?” he says, meaning ‘womb cramps’, but that’s something else him and Chan get a bit shy about.
“No, no, I’m fine, all good.” Jisung motions to the soundboard. “We should get started, right? Don’t waste any more time on me.”
“It’s not a waste,” Changbin protests. “We want to help—”
“We don’t want to pressure you into anything, Jisung,” Chan overrides. “Just think about all this, like you said, and if you need anything... we’ll be here.”
Jisung nods, half-bowing with the bob of his head.
“I appreciate it. Thanks, guys. Will definitely, um, think it all over. Lots of thinking ahead, for sure. Um, we should get to work though, right?”
Chan stares at him for another beat before turning back to his screen. “Right. Yeah, we owe Yeji her demo by Tuesday, let’s try to finish the instrumentals today.”
*
A week later, the first date goes well. Really well, actually; Hana pecks him on the lips when they say goodbye.
*
Jisung likes Hana. She’s sweet, and very respectful for an alpha. In a lot of ways she reminds him of his hyungs; she’s also a couple of years older than him, and funny in a silly way that makes him feel like he can be himself. Jisung ended up talking about Chan and Changbin a lot, because he goes for what he knows when he’s nervous, and she didn’t seem to mind. She paid for dinner and didn’t try to knot him on the first date, which Jisung appreciated.
The hyungs want him to debrief it of course, so Changbin invites Jisung over to their place the following day for dinner and a movie. It’s a Saturday night classic for the three of them, and Jisung usually falls asleep against one firm shoulder or another and gets gently carried to a rideshare a few hours later (either Chan or Changbin always goes with him to make sure he’s tucked into bed safely before returning home).
Because it's such a common event, and the alpha's apartment such a familiar setting, Jisung doesn't think twice about the fact that he spends the same amount of time getting ready than he did for his romantic outing. He picks a graphic tee that Chan complimented once, and the pair of tight jeans Changbin always slaps his ass in, and styles his hair with care.
The path is safe, so it doesn't even occur to him that they are about to drive off a cliff until it’s too late.
“You cooked?” He cries, toeing off his shoes and running to the kitchen the moment he arrives. The evidence greets him as a bunch of pots and pans in the sink, soaking in soapy water.
On Chan and Changbin’s low living room table is a full spread of banchan and a central plate of still-steaming grilled meat.
“Looks good, right?” Changbin asks, smiling around his chunky glasses.
Jisung knows him too well. “No way you had any part in this.”
“Hey!”
“It was me,” Chan says, taking off a frilly pink apron with a happy smile. It was gifted to Changbin as a gag gift, but both alphas wear it unironically. “Binnie helped by, uhm. Uh... What did you do?”
“I handed you the... the...” Changbin motions with his hand, then bursts into a cute laugh and seems to give up. “Okay fine, I set the table.”
Jisung laughs too, and goes to wash his hands and sit down with them.
They settle in to eat and the alphas generously wait until Jisung has finished a full serving before interrogating him. He can feel it coming as his plate empties; a silence descends that holds that now-familiar tension, unlike their usual quiet comfort. The Hana-related unease fills the room.
“So,” Chan starts, gaze intent on the kimchi his chopsticks are picking up and putting back down. “Tell us all about your date, Sungie.”
Jisung does; reciting a brief summary of their itinerary and highlighting some of the topics of conversation, skipping how many times he mentioned them specifically. Then, he shows them the pictures he took of his food during dinner.
“...And then we said goodbye and I took the bus home. That was it, honestly.”
“And she was... respectful? No weird vibes?”
Jisung shakes his head. “No weird vibes. She treated me like a princess.”
Changbin snorts. “She didn’t drive you home.”
“I asked her not to.”
“She didn’t even try to kiss you?” Chan asks casually, turning a cabbage leaf over on his plate.
“Um, no she. She did.”
The other two still.
“She did?” Chan asks. He stopped looking down at his cabbage. “And was she still respectful when you pushed her away and told her you’re not ready?”
Jisung gulps. His ears feel hot, and a weird feeling stirs in his gut, like he got caught cheating on a test no one told him to study for. “...No.”
“No?” Changbin echoes. “Jisung, what the fuck did she—”
“N-no, no, I mean she didn’t—I didn’t push her away. We kissed. It was nice, I-I wanted to.”
“...Oh.” Chan looks taken aback. Disappointed almost; like he expected better from Jisung than to sneak an answer sheet into class. Except for how they aren’t in school anymore, and Chan was never his TA, and Jisung didn’t cheat. “You kissed.”
“Yeah. That’s it though, nothing else.” It was hilariously chaste. “I still haven’t. You know. Done anything.”
Changbin squares his shoulders, and Chan sits up. “So she didn’t touch you during the kiss? Didn’t try to cop a feel?”
“No,” says Jisung. “No, no it was super quick. Just a-a peck, really.”
“So no one has touched you yet,” Changbin clarifies.
Jisung feels something dull throb with desire inside him. It’s not for lack of wanting to be touched that that hasn’t happened.
“No.”
Chan is nodding absently, gaze lost. “So that stuff we talked about last week at the studio,” he says. “You still need... help with that?”
Jisung reaches for his water glass and takes a big gulp, buying himself time.
He’s thought about it. He’s done nothing but think about it, if he’s honest with himself; half-convincing himself that he’d taken an elaborate joke way too seriously and the hyungs didn’t even mean what they were offering.
Except that his other half knew that wasn’t true. Neither Chan nor Changbin would joke about something serious like that.
“Um. Yeah, I think. I think that would be helpful,” he says finally, darting a look at each of them.
Changbin is staring at him so intently it’s almost a glare, but Chan’s eyes still look rather vacant. “Ah.”
“Did you decide?” Changbin asks. “If you want one of us or. Or both?”
Jisung shakes his head. “Can’t choose,” he admits.
He didn’t even try.
“So both,” Changbin says. “Chan-hyung first, then me.”
Jisung is starting to get dizzy again. “Um. Okay, yeah.”
“And how would we...?” Changbin starts to ask, but they both turn to Chan as one; their leader. He usually has the answers. “How would this work?”
Chan licks his lips, and Jisung can’t help tracking the motion.
“Jisung has to tell us what he wants. But whatever happens, I think we should start slow.”
Jisung nods. “Slow sounds good.”
Chan puts his chopsticks down on top of his plate. “How about just kissing, first?” He asks.
“I’ve kissed people,” Jisung points out, though it’s not a ‘no’. The only part he objects to is the ‘just’. If he’s going to kiss Chan and Changbin, it should be a prelude to something else. Something more.
“Then what do you want, Sungie?” Chan prompts. It’s kind, still; sweetly delivered. “Tell us, and we’ll figure it out. There will be no pressure.”
Jisung thinks about it. He knows what he wants in a vague way in the back of his mind that he only lets himself access when his heat peaks and no other thought will get him off; his whole fist practically in there and still feeling unfilled in the way he wants to be filled.
He can’t put those visions into words, so he says what he’s thinking. “I want more.”
“More?” Changbin husks. He looks a bit flushed, and his gaze is alternating between Jisung and Chan. “Elaborate.”
“I want to be touched. I don’t even know what I like because I’ve never. So I wanna figure that out.”
Chan lets out a shallow exhale, and then he says the exact thing Jisung was hoping he would say: “Do you want to try tonight?”
Jisung nods right away. “Yes. Please, yes.”
His next date is in just three days; Hana said she wanted to make up for rescheduling the first one.
“Kissing and... touching,” Chan reiterates. “Clothes stay on.”
A little tremble goes through Jisung’s limbs. “Mh. Yeah. Okay.”
“We stay here. In the living room.” Chan looks around them and then points. “On the couch.”
Jisung’s hole is aching. His boxers feel warm, the heat of his own arousal and the wetness making the thin fabric stick to his folds.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “Thanks, hyung.”
Chan shakes his head. “I’ve never been with an omega before, so you have to help me too, yeah? Tell me what feels good, and what doesn’t.”
“‘Kay.”
“And you don’t have to thank me. There’s no pressure here. We’re just... helping you try things out, okay? We’re helping you get some experience in a totally chill and uh, low stakes environment. It’s not a big deal.”
Changbin is looking between them, and then he looks at his bedroom door. “Right, and I’ll just—”
“You don’t have to go,” Jisung blurts.
The two alphas freeze.
“It’s okay if Changbin-hyung is here, right?” Jisung asks Chan.
Chan looks at Changbin for a beat, and Jisung wonders whether they are going to become their subgender stereotypes for the first time ever and turn this into a confrontation.
But of course they don't; he knows his hyungs and they are gentle alphas, best friends and roommates for the past few years. It’s rare for two alphas to live together and not fight constantly, but Chan and Changbin love each other to the point where they even had dating rumors in university, because of how close and amicable they are.
“Of course it’s okay,” Chan says. “Stay, Binnie.”
Changbin stays. He remains seated on the floor when Jisung shakily gets up to plop down on the couch, and Chan carefully navigates the table to sit next to him.
Jisung feels like he’s in a dream. This can’t be real; Chan leaning in close to him, not with that teasing giggle he gets sometimes when he’s overdoing aegyo and trying to annoy Jisung by being handsy, but with true intent. With Jisung’s permission and encouragement, even, for a kiss.
For more.
“This okay?” Chan asks, bracing a hand on the cushion behind Jisung’s shoulder.
Jisung kisses him.
He’s thinking of it like ripping off a band-aid; trying to get the initial awkwardness and hesitancy over with, but as soon as his and Chan’s lips touch he stops thinking at all.
Chan’s lips are so plush, so soft. Warm, where they welcome him and then quickly parting for them to breathe hotly into each other.
Jisung knows he should pull back now, check in verbally, but his mind is blank; he’s operating on instinct, and his instincts say he should lick the seam of Chan’s lips and then press their lips together again, a little harder.
Chan moves his hand from the couch to Jisung’s shoulder, the touch grounding, and then that same hand slides in, to his neck, then up to his jaw, until he’s cupping Jisung’s cheek.
Chan tastes good. Jisung feels good. It’s not awkward, it’s warm and nice, close, easy. He kisses him more, deeper, and Chan caresses his face with swipes of his thumb and kisses back, and then takes over. He makes a soft noise and slides his tongue into Jisung, filling his mouth and swirling around his own, and Jisung shifts in his seat because that makes his clit throb.
“M’kay?” Chan slurs into his mouth, switching the angle of his face to kiss Jisung from the other side, but not separating their lips.
“More,” Jisung mumbles. “Please, more.” He doesn’t know how to enact it; curls his hands into fists around the fabric of Chan’s plain black tee and hopes Chan will listen.
Chan licks back into him, kissing harder, more insistently, but still their only other point of contact is his hand on Jisung’s face, the delicate swipes of his thumb.
Jisung bends a knee as he repositions to turn further into him, and the seam of his jeans suddenly digs into his pussy, pressing into him at a slightly off-center angle that nevertheless feels really fucking good. So good he whimpers quietly right into Chan’s mouth.
Chan makes a low sound back, and he puts his second hand on Jisung’s other shoulder.
The kiss is becoming something filthier and hungrier, but Chan doesn’t take it any further. Jisung has never made out with someone for this long, and his head is spinning, blood thrumming and swirling around his gut, pulsing in his center. The smell of alpha is strong, despite Chan’s patches, and it’s making things worse. Jisung feels like he’s actively leaking into his boxers and is worried that soon his jeans will have a wet patch on them—he forgot to wear an underwear liner again today.
The press of stiff fabric feels too good though, digging into the ache and relieving some of the discomfort from how insanely turned on he is. He spreads his legs wider, trying to get it to rub right over his clit, and makes another pathetic noise when he partially succeeds by splaying his thighs open, still with a foot on the floor and one leg up on the couch. Doing that also makes him leak more, but he can’t stop the little hitches of his hips, little rolling motions to try and get more pressure there. Fuck. It’s definitely soaked through his crotch; it feels so warm. Could he come from this? It’s not the perfect angle, but kissing Chan feels so good. He just needs a bit more pressure. More friction. More—
“You’re not touching him,” says Changbin.
Jisung startles and pulls away, flinching back from Chan with a gasp.
He looks at Changbin first, and sees that he hasn’t moved from his spot, just folded his legs and hugged his shins. His glasses are slightly askew, but he’s otherwise unchanged.
Chan, on the other hand, is sitting much closer than he started out, looking dull-eyed and bright red at the tip of his nose, his lips and his ears. His neck is also flushed pink down to his chest. He’s breathing shallowly, like there was any physical exertion involved, and he has his hands in his lap after he let go of Jisung when they separated.
When he looks down at himself, Jisung is horrified to see that not only was he right about the wet patch, but it’s more noticeable than he expected because of the way it darkened the jean fabric. Fuck. He looks like he peed himself; so much slick he’s still oozing that even his inner thighs are wet. Omegascent fills the air; thick and musky, powerful. Jisung’s scent-patch might as well be a decorative sticker.
“...Fuck,” he pants, quickly drawing his legs shut, knees pressed together. “S-sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” Chan asks, looking lost.
“Chan-hyung is the one who should be sorry,” Changbin says. And then again, directed at Chan: “You weren’t even touching him.”
“I. I was.” Chan keeps his eyes on Jisung’s face. “I was trying to take it slow.”
“While you were taking it slow, he was uncomfortable,” Changbin says, finally adjusting his glasses and getting to his feet with an uncharacteristic wobble. He lands on Jisung’s other side, and he’s also breathing hard—and he smells like alpha. Like spices and warmth. Changbin’s alphascent is earthier than Chan’s, who smells lighter and saltier.
“Hyung,” Jisung whispers, since he needs to address the elephant in the room. “I’m. I didn’t. Um, this is from. This happens sometimes when I.”
Chan looks down, but Jisung is pressing his legs so tightly together that he can’t see anything amiss yet. “Huh?” he asks dumbly. His lips are so puffy from the kissing.
“The.” Jisung’s eyes flicker to Changbin, who definitely saw it. Probably watched it grow bigger and spread, as Jisung shamelessly tried to ride a crease of fabric in mid air. “There’s a, um. A stain. It’s not. I just got into it, and. That happens to me when I get. Uh.” Fuck, he wants to dissolve into the floor and vanish, but he can't. Maybe if he blushes any harder he'll end up spontaneously combusting; that'd be a mercy.
Chan blinks, still staring at Jisung’s thighs.
He puts a hand on the left one.
Jisung twitches, whole-body—finally a touch that’s closer to where he needs it.
“What’s...?” Chan starts to ask, but he curls his fingers around the span of Jisung’s leg and nudges it outward, gently, without force.
Jisung lets him guide it open, revealing the wetness between his legs, but before he can attempt to address it again Changbin puts his hand on his right thigh.
“See?” He says, voice raspy. He looks to Jisung. “Did you wish he touched you there?”
Jisung is maybe trembling, and the mix of his hyung’s scents is driving that dizziness high again, making him feel almost drunk.
“Sungie?” Chan breathes, still staring at his crotch. Fuck, this is embarrassing. “You want me to?”
Jisung nods, hole pulsing with need despite everything. He has no idea what his face looks like right now but he can’t imagine his scrunched up expression of needy desire is particularly attractive. His eyes also feel suspiciously wet, and if he ends up crying he will officially call this the most humiliating day of his life.
“Should I? Now?” Chan asks, sliding his hand around the meat of Jisung’s inner quad, just a little bit higher. Not high up enough, yet.
“Kiss,” Jisung breathes, shaking his head. He can’t do this if they are all looking, it’s too much, the focus, he can’t—”Kiss first, please.”
He hears one of them swear, so low he can’t tell who it was, and then he turns to the side, towards Changbin.
“Kiss, hyung,” he mutters, pouting just a little.
“Me?” Changbin asks, his hand spasming in its grip around Jisung’s other leg.
“Please.” He makes his eyes round, pathetic. They both baby him when he wants it but Changbin always takes a bit more convincing than Chan; Jisung has to look particularly pitiful to get him.
Still, it always works.
“Of course, Sungie, here.” Changbin scoots closer and quickly puts an arm on the back of his neck to angle him just right. “Here, baby...” he seals their mouths together, controlling the kiss from the very beginning, assured. He kisses Jisung like he’s trying to soothe him, deep and wet, and Jisung’s legs part easily now, the vee of his narrow angle relaxing.
Chan’s hand slides further in.
Changbin keeps kissing Jisung, eating at him like he’s still hungry from dinner, slow inhales through his nose as they bring their faces closer together, his tongue exploring Jisung’s mouth.
When the press of fingers eventually makes it to the center of the vee, Jisung makes an airy noise of anticipation that Changbin swallows.
Chan cups him in his palm at first, deceptively innocent, and Jisung is about to buck his hips into it when the hold changes; Chan digs the heel of his hand into the area just below the mound of Jisung’s pubic bone, a flat pressure at the parting of his folds, where his clit is aching to be touched.
It’s not pointed enough to stimulate him directly, but after nothing it feels insanely good. Jisung whines into Changbin, legs trying to close again but this time so that he can trap Chan’s hand there and not let him take his pressure back.
Lucky for him, it seems Chan has no intention of this.
“Okay?” He breathes in Jisung’s ear, sliding his hand up to push his fingers into that same area. “Jisung? Good?”
Jisunt can’t speak because Changbin hasn’t let him go, so he puts his own hand over Chan’s and pushes him harder.
“Ah,” Chan chuckles lightly. He is strong, and his fingers dig in much harder after being instructed, somehow managing to shove the fold of fabric directly, unerringly into Jisung’s clit.
Jisung parts from Changbin to moan as quietly as he can, the delicate noise cutting through the breathy silence in the air at an incriminating volume anyway.
“Good?” Changbin asks, keeping their foreheads together and the hand on the back of Jisung’s neck. “That feels good, baby?”
Jisung has no fucking clue where ‘baby’ is coming from, since the only times Changbin calls him that are to say You’re being such a a baby, or The baby fell asleep on the couch again?
Unfortunately, it’s making his tummy feel awfully warm right now.
He moans again, unable to help it, his upper lip brushing Chanbin’s as they keep facing each other.
“Is that good?” Asks Chan, and he is somehow consistently, rhythmically mashing the pressure directly where Jisung wants it, something explosive building in his pelvis. “Did we finally figure out a way to get Jisung to stop talking?”
Jisung can’t even protest the accusation; he’s close. He’s getting close to coming, and his hips are doing an aborted half-roll that’s a lot clumsier than earlier to chase it.
“Fuck. So wet,” Changbin grunts, and when Jisung’s eyes manage to focus he sees that Changbin is looking down at Chan’s hand on him, and the fabric all around it.
He whimpers, scrunching his eyes closed to hide from the sight.
“Smells so strong, too,” Chan pants, his relentless touches not faltering even for a moment. “This thing isn’t even doing anything, is it?”
Jisung feels a swipe of Chan’s nose on the side of his neck, at the area under his jaw where his left scent patch is attempting to block the gush of pheromones his body is putting out. Ineffectually, as Chan said.
Changbin lets go of Jisung’s nape to do the same on his side, brushing his nose, lips and chin along the oval strip of translucent plastic.
“Might as well not even be there,” Changbin says, voice shaking. “I can smell him so clearly.”
Jisung shudders. “Yes. Off. Yes,” he gasps. After the place Chan is touching, his skin is most sensitive in those twin spots at his neck. If they... at either side, if they are as close...
He doesn’t wait for them to do it; he reaches up himself and peels them off with scrabbling clumsy fingers, the sudden swell of Jisung-scent in the air making him wrinkle his nose for a moment. The patches were doing more than he thought—the cloying amount of sticky omega sweetness that bursts into the air is excessive, barely a tart edge to it now that he’s about to cream himself.
Changbin swears, and Chan’s rhythm falters for the first time.
“Oh fuck,” Chan pants. “Holy shit. Fuck. Jisung. Sungie.”
He resumes his ministrations of Jisung’s clit with renewed vigor, and the dull pressure is mounting, building, coiling—he can feel both of their hot breaths on the sensitive skin of his neck at either side, and he’s so—he’s going to—
It’s Changbin whose mouth grazes the spot first.
Jisung jolts, pelvis jerking, and his right arm moves without a conscious thought to grab a fistful of Changbin’s hair and shove his head in.
The sensation is insane—no one has ever kissed him there. He’s so sensitive, his skin erupts in goosebumps at the feel, and he knows he’s about to—
“I’m gonna come,” he gasps, grabbing Chan by the hair with his other hand and tugging. “Please, please, oh god, oh fuck, oh my god I’m—”
Chan’s lips make contact and Jisung sobs, the orgasm shaking his whole body, his legs clamping shut around Chan’s hand as he comes so powerfully he sees white, as Chan and Changbin kiss and lick at the ultra-sensitive skin where his scent emanates from. He feels warm fluid gushing into his underwear and his stomach is clenching so hard that he can’t even try to stop it, the contractions completely outside of his control, his toes curling as he makes a series of agonized, high-pitched noises he doesn’t recognize.
He regains awareness with Chan still touching him, and has to nudge his hand away from the over-sensitized area to get him to stop. His legs are boneless, his chest is heaving, and he can still feel both alphas on his neck; Changbin is laving his scenting spot with his tongue and Chan is sucking at it like he’s trying to swallow Jisung’s pheromones directly.
Jisung pushes them both away by their chests, feeling overheated, sweaty and vulnerable.
He can’t believe what he just did. He can’t believe what they just did.
He lets his head loll towards Chan, first. Alpha. Leader. He’ll know what to say, right?
Except that Chan’s eyes look pitch-black and completely absent from the situation, and he is staring down at Jisung’s neck with his nostrils flared.
Jisung shivers and turns to Changbin, seeking out his ally; surely Changbin will bring reason into this.
But Changbin’s eyes are closed, and he’s licking his lips like… like he’s chasing the vestiges of Jisung left there.
“Changbin-hyng?” he asks, voice small. He turns back to Chan, whose upper lip is curled like he’s about to snarl. “Chan-hyung?”
Jisung always works out with them, tries to bulk up like them, and he’s aware that he can’t quite match up, but never more so than in this moment. In this moment, he feels weak and vulnerable between them. In this moment, he feels small. In this moment, he remembers the ancient role omegas played in nature, the reason modern medicine has made them obsolete.
Omegas were meant for alphas to breed.
“Hyung,” he says again, voice trembling. His lip wobbles. His eyes well up, and—
“Sungie,” Changbin breathes, tugging the couch blanket over himself for a moment and then immediately putting a hand on Jisung’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Are you okay? Was that okay, baby?”
“Fuck, hey—” Chan rasps, shoving a pillow on his lap and then leaning in to gently swipe under Jisung’s eyelids. “What’s wrong? Was it not good? You smelled so intense, I thought—”
Thank god, these are the hyungs he was waiting to come back to him.
“No, it… it was. It was good.”
Those simple words make Chan break into a huge smile. “Yeah?” he is really flushed, but his shoulders slump in relief. “You liked it?”
Jisung nods, then looks down at himself and remembers why he was about to cry. “I… made a mess,” he squeaks. “I-I’m sorry, I’ll clean it—”
“No!” Changbin cries.
“Uh, what Binnie means is don’t worry about it,” Chan rushes to add, shaking his head like a wet dog. “This faux leather stuff is easy to wash. You wanna change? You know where my stuff is, you can go change Sungie, don’t worry about the couch, we’ll take care of it.”
“Or you could stay,” Changbin says, scooting even closer. “You don’t have to move just yet, you can just… just relax for a moment. Breathe. Change later.”
Jisung loves the idea of that second option, so he nods and stays put, slumped against the back of the couch, letting himself come down from the best orgasm of his life for a few seconds. He can’t believe he didn’t even take his clothes off for this. He has a vague empty ache inside that is mildly bothersome but otherwise this is… the best he’s ever felt. His two hyungs cooing over him, his cunt pulsing with fading pleasurable heat, and the prospect of doing this again sometime in the not-too-distant future.
His stomach feels floaty, like he's at the top of a rollercoaster. Like being suddenly airborne.
"Is he falling asleep?"
"You know our Sungie, when does he not fall asleep?"
A huff. A fond voice. "...He's so cute."
"Stop that. You know we can't."
"I-I know. I wasn't—I won't. I promise."
A beat of silence.
"He smells incredible."
"Yeah." A throat clears. "You're, uh. Not so bad, Binnie."
"Gee, thanks. Wanna take care of this, next?"
"Shut up, that's not funny."
"What? I won't ask you to take off my clothes either, but I'm so hard, hyung—"
"Not funny—"
"Not a joke—"
But at that point, Jisung sinks into a slumber too deep to keep listening in.