Chapter Text
Yeosang could pinpoint the exact moment everything shifted, the exact moment he started to recognize the gap growing between him and his pack mates.
He’d never been one for intense physical affection, something San and Wooyoung constantly teased him about. At first he’d just been uncomfortable with the members, still learning their quirks and personalities. Transitioning companies was stressful, and as a late presenter others were never as quick to outpour their affections toward him.
The other members had always treated him with respect, even before they bonded as a pack. They’d never made him feel lesser when he presented late as a Beta, something he’d expected after managing the woes of societal hierarchy. He was always just Yeosang to them, secondary gender aside.
Now that they were bonded in a pack, he’d come to appreciate the hugs, scenting, lingering touches they all shared with one another. The other members were still quick to respect his boundaries, initiating touch only when it was clear Yeosang was comfortable.
It was appreciated, until those boundaries started to stray from protecting his autonomy to separating him from everyone else. The members were initiating contact with him less and less the busier they got, and the more they communally assumed he didn’t want it.
Yeosang had tried multiple times to speak up, letting them know that he still wanted to be touched, embraced, loved just as all the other members were. He even initiated at times, though he never missed the strange looks tossed his way when he sprawled out across someone or hugged them from behind.
He wasn’t sure when the members started to think for him, assuming his opinions without checking in with him. Wooyoung would jump in and argue that Yeosang wouldn’t want to eat at a certain restaurant despite the older feeling otherwise, or Seonghwa would mention that Yeosang didn’t want to watch a particular movie at movie night.
Yeosang had come to accept that it was bound to happen; he was always the quiet kid that didn’t voice his opinion on anything for fear of retaliation. It was only natural for him to then assume the position of the Beta that didn’t have valuable input, didn’t care what the outcome was because he was expected to adapt, didn’t get the luxury of choice because his choice never mattered.
The role sunk deep into his bones in a festering mold, growing slowly over time the longer it was allowed to sit unbothered. It itched, and burned, and hurt at times, but it was easier to ignore it than crack himself open only to bleed rotten marrow.
It wasn’t until they started having to navigate heat and rut cycles as a pack that things took on a drastic change, that Yeosang saw himself clearly on the outside of their cherished circle.
Jongho’s rut had been the first they’d managed as a pack, and despite the struggle that came with navigating eight people’s emotions on top of an already stressful event, it went as smoothly as it could have. Jongho had never been an overly sexual person, and instead just needed everyone within close proximity to make sure they were safe. Everyone may have left the nesting room days later smelling like a christmas tree in the middle of December, but if anything it had brought all of them closer.
Wooyoung’s first heat with them had been rough, everyone realizing that they should have established clear expectations prior. The second he’d jumped San and attempted to tear every item of clothing he had on, they all knew that this was going to be drastically different from what Jongho had experienced.
They’d managed a brief but rough discussion right then, quickly realizing that while they’d do anything to help Wooyoung through this, they were going to have to get real comfortable with each other real quick.
It hadn’t been something completely off the table, everyone having feelings of some sort for one another as was natural for a bonded pack like themselves. They all had members they gravitated to more than others, but during Wooyoung’s heat they were all there for him.
Yeosang had just been grateful that Wooyoung hadn’t sought him out, content to watch idly from the sidelines with beet red cheeks and an embarrassingly uncomfortable heat in his abdomen. He had been a little jealous at the time, the members so preoccupied with making sure they didn’t mess things up to worry about including him, inviting him into the thick of it.
If anything…it just made for excellent shower material over the next few weeks.
Hongjoong had called a pack meeting as soon as Wooyoung’s heat resided to establish clear expectations moving forward and detail what every member needed during their cycles. He’d felt horrible for the lack of planning, though no one chastised him for something they were all still newly navigating together.
Yeosang hadn’t really been included much in that discussion either, but he tried not to let it bother him. He didn’t get cycles like the rest of them, though he’d heard of some Betas having pseudo-cycles the longer they remained bonded in a pack. Something about pheromones and their bodies adjusting to the group’s new normal, though Yeosang hadn't really looked into it.
A few other cycles went by, Yeosang continually sitting on the sidelines as the rest of the pack was roped into whatever that current member needed. It was starting to wear on him, being there but not truly being there.
When Seonghwa interrogated him after Yunho’s rut about his sour scent, Yeosang made it his goal to dampen his scent from then on, nullifying it so that any anxiety or sorrowful thoughts were quickly drowned out by the rest of the group’s scents. He was lucky, he supposed, that Beta’s scents were so much less potent than the others.
He knew he should bring it up to Hongjoong, but he was terrified of making anyone else feel bad about it, or coming off as selfish during a time that was meant to be about whichever member was struggling.
He wasn’t sure if the other members just assumed he wasn’t interested, or if they weren’t interested in him like that. Those thoughts hurt, left him curled up in bed on lonely nights crying into his pillow as soured raspberries flooded the room.
He wanted to be included, wanted to participate, wanted to give love and be loved in return.
It wasn’t his fault he didn’t experience cycles like the rest of them.
It wasn’t his fault that he presented as a Beta, not the Omega his mother had hoped for or the Alpha his father wanted.
Yeosang just hoped that the more he told himself this, the more likely he was to believe it.
It was Mingi’s first heat cycle with the group that shattered the dynamic, breaking it into something so unrecognizable that Yeosang knew there was no hope of recovery.
The pack was still navigating everything, still trying to figure out how each person’s cycle would go to establish a baseline. Mingi’s pre heat had been going on for a few days, but despite the anticipation no one was ready when it hit suddenly during a dance practice, sweet rose engulfing the room.
Their managers had helped them get home, their penthouse suite in a neighboring building already set up for what Mingi would need. Hongjoong and Jongho were quick to help him into their nesting room, Hongjoong barking orders to everyone to grab a handful of their clothes for his nest and to meet them back in the room.
Yeosang stuttered around his room, grabbing a few sweatshirts before scrambling back down the stairs and toward the communal space. Blooming rose overpowered his nose as soon as he opened the door, Mingi already stripping down to add his own clothes to the haphazard circle strewn out on one of the king beds.
“H-here,” Yeosang smiled softly, holding out the sweatshirts that Mingi snatched quickly, watching as he carefully laid them out exactly where he wanted them.
Yeosang couldn’t help the blush that peppered his cheeks, both at the sight of Mingi’s rippling back muscles and at the implication that Mingi cared about him enough to want to include his clothes in his sacred space.
Everyone was still on edge at the unexpected timing, more so than they had been for the last couple of cycles, but Mingi was quick in dragging Yunho into his nest and pulling his clothes off of him.
Yeosang shuffled over to the bed furthest from the one the nest was on, grabbing a water bottle from their mini fridge and getting comfortable on the mattress. He’d be there as long as Mingi wanted him, but knew that he’d just be sitting idly on the sidelines once again.
Wooyoung and San joined him, San’s white sage strong as he watched Yunho whisper sweet things in Mingi’s ear when he pressed into him. Yeosang knew he was just biding his time, waiting until Mingi beckoned him over for his turn, but a part of him wished San would initiate things with him while they waited.
After all, Seonghwa and Hongjoong certainly weren’t sitting idly by, if the Luna grinding against the Captain’s lap was any indication. Yeosang blushed and averted his eyes, still feeling like he was intruding on something he wasn’t supposed to see.
They never included him anyway, so maybe he wasn’t supposed to be privy to that.
However, when Yunho pulled off of Mingi ages later and turned toward them, it wasn’t San he motioned to.
“Yeosang,” Mingi groaned, still reeling from being fucked into the mattress by Yunho who was striding over to the fridge, clearly comfortable in his nudity.
“Yes?” Yeosang moved to get up, eager to bring whatever the omega needed to stay comfortable as he rode out his heat.
“Come into the nest,” Mingi patted the clothes next to him. “I want my Beta with me.”
“Oh.”
Oh.
Yeosang’s face was so red Wooyoung almost thought he was going to pass out.
“Min, I don’t know if Yeosang is ready for that,” Wooyoung piped up, voice soft and sympathetic. Yeosang knew he meant well, but he nearly glared at the other for even insinuating he wasn’t willing to do this, wasn’t just as turned on as the rest of them were.
Why did they assume he wasn’t sexually attracted to everyone just as they were?
Why did everyone insist on speaking for him?
“Don’t care,” Mingi growled, eyes flashing blue as his omega screamed for the beta’s presence. “I want Sangie.”
“It’s ok Woo, I’m happy to help.” Yeosang smiled softly, waving a hand to placate the concerned omega. He walked over and crawled lightly into the nest, eyes widening when Mingi grabbed his waist and pulled him in for a passionate kiss.
Yeosang could hear Hongjoong chuckling breathlessly from the other bed, and if the warm cinnamon was any indication Yeosang knew him and Seonghwa were intimately intertwined.
“You have too many clothes on,” Mingi growled suddenly, hands gripping the sweatshirt Yeosang was wearing and pulling it sharply towards the ceiling. Yeosang fumbled out of it, the cool air hitting his exposed skin causing him to shiver.
“Better?” Yeosang asked, peering through dark hair to take in the omega beside him. Mingi hummed in response, pressing a kiss to Yeosang’s neck that had him grunting softly.
His heart was hammering rapidly in his chest as his beta preened, finally being seen for the first time since the eight of them had decided to bond together. Warmth pooled in his abdomen as Mingi continued to suckle on his scent glands, bright raspberry mixing with the sticky sweet rose. The back of his neck seemed to hum as said bond rippled between them, pulling him closer and closer to his omega.
He knew he couldn’t really fulfill what Mingi needed, but he was beyond honored to just be there, be included, be wanted.
It wasn’t until he pressed Mingi beneath him and his hand wandered to stroke Mingi’s length that everything shifted, a low growl pooling in the room. Yeosang froze instantly, hand barely wrapped around Mingi, and he lifted his head to meet bright red eyes from across the room.
San lifted his lip and bared his teeth as he strode over, a deep growl rumbling in his chest. Yeosang coughed at the surge of mountain sage that flooded his nostrils, nearly overtaking the sweet rose beneath him.
“San,” Hongjoong’s voice pierced through the tension in the room, tone heavy with warning. “Mingi didn’t ask for you, you have to wait.”
If San heard him, he made no motion to cease his stalking toward the nest where Yeosang remained frozen. Yeosang’s beta nearly screamed at him to growl back, to establish dominance in the situation he’d so desperately been waiting for.
“Get off him,” San barked harshly, red eyes locked onto Yeosang’s. Mingi whimpered below him, and Yeosang was quick to release where his hand had started to tighten reflexively.
“San!”
Wooyoung jumped off the mattress, Jongho trailing right behind him as they flanked the alpha’s sides.
“He doesn’t belong to you.” San’s voice was low, eyes drifting to the omega curled up in the nest, eyes wide.
“Yah, he doesn’t belong to you either you blockhead,” Wooyoung smacked San in the chest, shaking his head. “You need to calm the fuck down before you lose any more control.”
“It’s alright Youngie,” Yeosang murmured. He lifted himself off Mingi, relieved that he still had his pants on. “We can switch.”
“No,” Mingi whined below him, tears bubbling in his eyes as he looked with panic between the two of them. “I want you to stay Sang-ah.”
Yeosang shot him a sympathetic smile, shaking his head.
“We’re just switching Min, you can have me after I promise. San will treat you well, you know that.”
He crawled out of the nest, upset and still horny but knowing that placating San when he got possessive was far more important than his own desires, even if his dick and his beta disagreed. It wasn’t the first time San’s alpha got pushy during a cycle.
“No!”
Mingi grabbed Yeosang’s wrist as soon as his feet hit the floor, rose intertwining with raspberry as their scent glands rubbed against each other. It was the final straw, San lunging out of Jongho’s grasp and tackling Yeosang to the floor.
Yeosang cried out at the heavy weight that sent him careening toward the carpet, head hitting the floor as he struggled to push San off of him. San was growling, eyes red and uncontrolled.
“San!” Hongjoong was running over, teeth bared and eyes equally as red. Yeosang pressed up against San as he tried to squirm away, fist hitting dully against the alpha’s shoulder.
A sharp pain in his arm had him yelping, San holding the arm that had been punching him down with his own fists while his teeth sunk into Yeosang’s other bicep to keep it in place. Yeosang could feel his skin tear, and knew he was getting blood on the carpet.
Seonghwa was going to complain about the staining for weeks.
As suddenly as the pressure started it stopped, Jongho pulling San off while Hongjoong pushed him from the front. Yeosang’s head was spinning, both from the overwhelming burnt coffee radiating from a pissed off Captain and the pain in his arm.
Somewhere in the back he could hear Mingi sobbing, wailing cries as the pack alpha barked harshly at San, whose eyes had returned to their normal dark brown and were bubbling with their own tears.
“Sangie, oh my god,” Seonghwa was next to him, and Yeosang tried to ignore the fact that the Luna had even less clothes on than he did. Yeosang pushed himself off the ground into a sitting position, wincing at the stiffness in his back and the sharp sting in his arm.
Yunho appeared in front of him, a bright first aid kit clutched in his hands. He was saying something, but Yeosang’s head was too fuzzy from the overwhelming scents in the room and everything that had happened. He barely registered the tight bandage being wrapped around his arm, and the soft fingers running through his hair.
He was a beta, he chastised himself, he wasn’t supposed to get drunk off pheromones this easily.
Though, he’d always been a bit of an odd case.
“-hear me? Sangie?”
“-say something Yeosang.”
Hongjoong materialized next to Yunho, and Yeosang blinked up at him through hazy lenses.
“Yeosang?”
He could tell the Captain was saying his name, but he couldn't seem to push the words past his throat. His tongue felt heavy, and he furrowed his eyes as he attempted to swallow through the weight. A bright light shone at him and he winced at the intrusion.
“I don’t think he has a concussion,” Yunho’s voice drifted in and out of his subconscious. “He seems almost like he’s dissociating."
His brain was already swimming, but Hongjoong’s heavily roasted coffee assaulted Yeosang’s senses, making it even harder to piece together cohesive thoughts.
“Shit, get him out of here Seonghwa,” Hongjoong snapped, eyes wide with worry as he watched the beta struggle to keep his focus on him. He couldn’t tell if it was the muddle of pheromones throwing him off, or if the beta was shutting down after what had just happened.
Seongwha nodded, leaving Yeosang for a moment to grab his pants from where they’d been discarded on the floor.
San was full on sobbing at this point, Wooyoung rubbing his back as he watched worriedly from their spot on the sidelines as Seongwha returned and guided a swaying Yeosang out of the room.
Yunho had abandoned the first aid kit to console Mingi, who was also still crying out for Yeosang. He whispered to him as he stroked his hair, trying to calm him down before the tears and overpouring of slick left him dehydrated.
The room still reeked, everyone’s scents going haywire as they struggled to navigate the next steps. San tried to leave the room to follow Yeosang and apologize, but Mingi’s whimpering had Hongjoong insisting that everyone stay put.
Mingi needed as many of them there as possible, even if he was upset about what had happened.
Once San and Mingi had calmed enough for them to move forward, Hongjoong stepped outside to see Yeosang and Seongwha sitting on the couch. Seongwha was humming one of their older songs, fingers deftly carding through Yeosang’s long black hair. He hadn’t put a shirt back on yet, but then again, neither had Yeosang.
“How is he?” He dared ask, moving so that he was knelt in front of the both of them. Seongwha looked down at him with a sad smile, and Hongjoong flinched at the dull look clouding Yeosang’s eyes.
“Ok, I think. He’s still not responsive.”
“Still?” Hongjoong bit his lip, eyes looking the beta up and down with worry.
“Do you think I overdid it?” He asked, pressing a hand over the scent gland in his neck self consciously. “I was just trying to calm San down, but didn’t think about how it might affect him.”
“I think it was just a lot all at once,” Seonghwa admitted. “For all of us.”
Hongjoong sighed, rubbing his eyes with his palms until Seongwha’s hand came down to grip one of his wrists.
“You’re going to make yourself blind,” he chuckled. “It’ll be ok love, we’ll work it out.”
Hongjoong nodded at that, standing and sighing heavily. He pulled a blanket off the other end of the couch and draped it over Seonghwa, who leaned over and pressed a kiss to Hongjoong’s wrist.
“I don’t want to leave them unattended for long, but if it gets to be another hour we may need to revisit…call the manager or something. I don’t know.”
Seongwha nodded, looking down at Yeosang who was still blinking slowly and staring off at an unfixed point in space. He’d been able to walk out of the room with him, but seemed to be stuck in limbo.
“We’ll figure it out, Jjoong,” Seongwha responded. “Get back to them, I’ll stay out here unless Mingi needs anything from me.”
“He’s been asking for Yeosang,” Hongjoong admitted. “I’m not sure he’ll be thrilled if I go back in without good news.”
“Just tell him he’s doing ok then,” Seongwha shrugged. “No need to worry him until it gets to that point. He’s still breathing and it doesn’t look like he’s bleeding through his bandaging, he just needs some time.”
Seongwha scrunched his nose and shook his head at Hongjoong.
“No offense, but you being out here probably isn’t helping. You reek.”
Hongjoong blushed, hand covering his scent gland once again as he stumbled backward.
“Shit, sorry, I hadn’t noticed. I’ll head back in. I’ll bring his shirt out with me next time if Mingi lets me take it back.”
He walked back toward the nesting room, turning only once to remind Seongwha to yell for him if anything changes. He was going to give Yeosang another hour before they brought in the ‘real adults’.
Seongwha sighed, returning his focus to the beta that was somehow both next to him and galaxies away at the same time.
“Come back to us Sangie,” he muttered, pressing a soft kiss to the younger’s forehead.
The beta didn’t respond.
Seongwha turned away, closing his eyes to blink back tears. He pressed the beta closer to him and closed his lips tightly instead, humming blanketing the room in soft song.
Yeosang came down slowly, sounds filtering through the water in his ears with more clarity. He could feel his fingers again, and the way his heart beat steadily in his chest.
He blinked through the fogginess, eyes starting to focus on the familiar furniture of their living room. He wasn’t sure when he got out here, or how long he’d been out here, but a soft voice in his ear had him turning to where Seongwha was sitting next to him on the couch.
“Are you back with us?” Seongwha asked, hands pausing from where they were running through Yeosang’s hair. Yeosang was pressed against his shoulder, leaning heavily on the Luna.
“I think so,” Yeosang rasped, voice still heavy.
“Oh thank god,” Seongwha exhaled sharply with relief, lip quivering. “You had us really worried there Sangie.”
Yeosang simply nodded slowly, blinking harshly as if it would clear the last of the debris from his head.
“What happened?”
Seongwha sighed, pulling his hand from Yeosang’s head to drape it over his shoulder, moving him closer to his chest. Yeosang let himself be guided, breathing in the sweet cinnamon. A soft blanket was shared with him, coccooning them both, and Yeosang dimly remembered he was still half naked.
The contact was soothing, grounding him in the moment.
“We’re not entirely certain, but I think San lost control of his alpha and attacked you. His alpha must have taken the pack’s beta being close to an omega in heat as a threat, even though San feels horrible about it all.”
Yeosang hummed in response, eyes fluttering to the crisp white bandage secured snugly against his left arm that was pressed into Seongwha.
He was still foggy, but something about the situation hammered a nail into his chest. They were supposed to be pack mates, bonded pack mates. For San to see him as a threat to that when the other alphas were also there, it didn’t make any sense. Especially because it was San, sweet San who adored Yeosang almost more than any of the other members.
Maybe it was just him that was the problem after all.
“When did we get out here?” Yeosang dared ask instead.
“Oh, it’s been a while. A little over two hours? I think?” Seongwha murmured, eyes furrowing with concern. “You were really out of it. Hongjoong thinks the stress of everything and the pheromones he used to calm San caused your body to shut down.”
“Oh.”
Seongwha peered at him with poorly contained worry, biting his lip.
“Is Mingi ok?” Yeosang asked, swallowing back the panic that started to rear its head.
“Yeah he’s ok. Yunho and Jongho have been with him. San and Wooyoung are in there too, but Hongjoong said San is still really shaken up about everything.”
“Can we go back in?” Yeosang asked. His beta hummed in agreement, desperate to see Mingi’s safety with his own eyes. He’d never felt so possessive over one of the omegas before, and didn’t know if it was because Mingi had been the first to invite him in, or if it was because his beta still assumed San to be a threat.
Seongwha hesitated, his eyes wide as he opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fish out of water.
“I-I don’t know darling, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he admitted after a while. “Why don’t we wait for Hongjoong to come back out first?”
“But I want to make sure Mingi is ok,” Yeosang whined. His distress must have been obvious as Seongwha’s nose crinkled at the abundance of soured fruit and he shook his head rapidly.
“Oh love, he’s really ok. I know it would help to see him but I promise he’s doing just fine, he’s safe. His heat was disrupted but not completely thrown off.”
Seongwha pressed his forehead to Yeosang’s, sweet cinnamon easing the beta’s nerves ever so slightly.
“Yeosang?”
Call it a captain’s intuition, but Hongjoong waltzed into the room right then, shoulders sagging with obvious relief when Yeosang moved to meet his gaze.
“Thank the moon,” he sighed, smiling softly at the beta still curled up against his Luna. “You really scared us back there.”
“I’m sorry,” Yeosang mumbled, averting his eyes from the alpha’s piercing gaze.
“Don’t apologize, it wasn’t your fault. I’m just glad you’re back with us. How’s your arm?”
Yeosang shrugged, guilt bubbling within his chest. He knew Hongjoong was probably right, but he couldn’t help but feel like it was his fault everything had derailed so harshly. They hadn’t had any problems with cycles before, not when he was sitting on the side.
“We’ll have to look at it a little more later, ok?” Hongjoong placed a hand on Yeosang’s knee and winced when the younger flinched at the contact.
“Do you want to go see Mingi? He keeps asking for you and I’m afraid he and Wooyoung will have my head if I return empty handed again.”
“Is that ok?” Seongwha whispered harshly. Hongjoong handed Yeosang the shirt he’d brought out with him and turned to shrug at the Luna. Yeosang rolled his eyes, he was still right there.
“Of course. I won’t let anything happen,” Hongjoong promised. Yeosang looked at him with hesitation but nodded, standing shakily and following the pack alpha to the nesting room.
A window had been opened to air the room out, only the barest hints of harsh coffee and overpowering sage left amidst the persistent rose. Mingi was laying lazily next to Yunho, who was still knotted inside him Yeosang realized with warm cheeks and quickly averted eyes.
“Yeosang!”
Wooyoung jumped up from where he and San were sitting on one of the other beds, nearly tripping over his feet as he ran over to him. Yeosang braced for an impact that never came as the younger skidded to a stop inches before him, seemingly scared that one touch would send him crashing.
“Are you ok? How’s your arm? How’s your head? You really freaked us out when you stopped responding Sangie. It’s been hours. Hongjoong was this close to calling the manager!”
Yeosang blinked a few times, processing the word vomit Wooyoung had just tossed at him.
“I’m ok. Head hurts? I think? I hadn’t noticed until now,” Yeosang admitted. From his periphery he could see Seonghwa shuffling over to where the first aid kit was kept.
Wooyoung nodded, opening his arms in a hesitant embrace. Yeosang shifted to meet him, pressing his head against Wooyoung’s shoulder. The tart apple mixed with his own raspberry, creating a soothing and sweet scent. Wooyoung squeezed him tightly before pushing him back, turning him by his shoulders to where Seonghwa was holding out two white tablets.
“For your head,” he said with a worried smile. Yeosang took them with a small thanks, swallowing them dry. Wooyoung made a face at him in disgust.
“Sangie?”
Mingi pushed himself up and off of Yunho, peering over Hongjoong’s back to see where the beta was standing amidst everyone else.
Yeosang glimpsed at Hongjoong briefly, who simply nodded and gestured for him to go greet the omega that had been begging for him.
“I’m here Mingi,” Yeosang smiled as he approached the bed, trying to ignore the overpouring blend of rose and peppermint.
“Are you ok Sang-ah?”
“I should be asking you that, Minky,” Yeosang teased. “I’m ok, are you ok? I know that was probably upsetting to you.”
“I was just worried about you,” Mingi grinned sweetly. He patted the nest next to him eagerly. “Come cuddle?”
Yeosang froze, the festering mold in his bones growing as his fear and doubt overpowered his brain. He knew Mingi could feel his distress through the bond as he watched the taller man wince as soon as he asked the question.
Yeosang was quick to look to where Hongjoong was sitting with Jongho and San, the alpha nodding to him warily.
Yeosang gingerly stepped into the nest, laying down only when the movement didn’t stir any growling from the alpha in the corner. He hesitantly wrapped an arm around Mingi’s abdomen and pushed himself flush with the omega’s back. The skin of his chest met Mingi’s back and if Yeosang could purr he would have.
Mingi hummed contently, grabbing Yeosang’s hand and holding it tightly. Yeosang knew he was going to need a shower after all this to ease away some of the sweet rose smell, but in the moment it was pleasant.
He vaguely heard Hongjoong say something to San, but his limbs were growing heavy and Mingi was so warm.
“Stop fighting it,” Yunho chuckled from where he watched the beta try and blink away sleep. “Everyone else is resting now, you should too.”
Yeosang mumbled something incoherent and closed his eyes, willing himself to relax so that sleep could claim him.
Little did he know, this might be the first and the last time he fell asleep in an omega’s nest.
“That’s not fair!” Wooyoung screeched, standing from the chair to glare at Hongjoong with balled fists.
Hongjoong was avoiding his gaze to stare at Yeosang instead, who had averted his own eyes to the floor. He couldn’t bear to see the alpha’s pity, knowing that it had to have been a hard decision for him to make.
“It’s ok Youngie-”
“It’s not! They can’t just exclude you like that! You’re pack too!”
Yeosang’s beta whimpered at that, and he bit his lip to keep from breaking into tears in the middle of the living room. The entire pack had gathered as soon as Mingi’s heat broke, everyone cluttered around the coffee table littered with various snacks and drinks.
Jongho sat beside him protectively, eyeing San every so often. San had yet to approach the Beta after everything went down, but Yeosang knew some of that was because Hongjoong, Wooyoung, and Jongho weren’t letting him.
“I’m afraid this is the best option for the time being,” Hongjoong stated calmly. “At least until we can figure out where things went wrong.”
Yeosang shuddered, knowing that no matter how they looked at it things only went wrong because he got involved.
Not that it mattered anymore, he supposed, since Hongjoong had now explicitly forbid him from joining in on any of the other heat and rut cycles for the foreseeable future.
“You still don’t get to just leave him out like that, it’s not fair to Yeosang,” Wooyoung whined. His apple scent was tart, marred with distress and sorrow. Yeosang was grateful he had a lighter scent and better control over it, only the softest hint of raspberry even notable.
“I agree, this isn’t fair at all,” San spoke up, his voice wobbly. “It was my fault, not Sangie’s.”
“No one is at fault here,” Seonghwa insisted. “There were far bigger things at play, things we just aren’t ready to navigate yet. We need time to further connect as a pack before we can risk it. We’ve only been pack bonded for a few months now. This is to keep everyone safe, not to single out anyone.”
Yeosang knew Seonghwa meant well, but his words still stung.
How was he supposed to further connect with the pack if he wasn’t allowed to be there during their most intimate moments?
“I still disagree,” Wooyoung snapped. “I think we should have the whole pack vote on it.”
Yeosang glanced up at him with wide eyes. They’d talked about it before, holding votes on things that affected the entire pack instead of leaving it up to their pack alpha. It was Hongjoong himself that had initially suggested it, not wanting to accidentally make the wrong choice for the pack.
“Does anyone second that?” Hongjoong asked, scanning the room briefly. Surprisingly it was Mingi and not San who raised his hand, nodding to Wooyoung.
“I do. I think we should vote.”
Hongjoong sighed, rubbing at his temples before nodding. He gestured to Wooyoung to sit back down.
“Alright then. Everyone in favor of Yeosang sitting out until we can work through things, raise your hand.”
Yeosang wanted to curl into a ball and hide, close his eyes and pretend that the voting didn’t exist. He didn’t know whether he should raise his hand to appease his alpha, or keep his hand tucked behind his back to appease what he wanted.
He ultimately decided it was ok to be selfish for once, though he knew it likely wouldn’t matter.
He glanced around the room, immediately wishing he hadn’t. Everyone except himself, Wooyoung, and Mingi had their hands raised. Wooyoung looked over at him with a hurt expression, and Yeosang jerked his head away quickly.
He didn’t need his pity.
He wasn’t surprised that everyone else agreed that he wasn’t wanted there.
“Well, that settles it. I’m sorry Yeosang, but until we can get a better grasp on what happened you’ll be sitting out of all future heat and rut cycles. You won’t be expected to go to practice or do anything without the rest of the group, but you won’t be allowed in the nesting room until things are over.”
Hongjoog laid it out for him, his tone sorrowful. Yeosang simply nodded in response, too numb to put up any kind of an argument. He pushed his own emotion down as far as he could not wanting to stir up any pain within the bond, though Wooyoung’s was sharp enough to be felt by everyone anyway.
“I understand.”
“This is temporary, right?” Wooyoung asked quickly, eyes darting between Yeosang and Hongjoong.
“Of course,” Hongjoong smiled softly. “We’ll get things figured out and Yeosang will be back with us before you know it.”
The meeting resolved quickly after that, Yeosang slipping away to his room as soon as Hongjoong dismissed everyone. Wooyoung had moved to follow him, but Seongwha held him back with a stern shake of his head.
Yeosang almost made it past the threshold of his door when a burnt sage coated his nostrils. He sighed, turning around to face the mountain of a man who was quivering nervously behind him.
“I’m so sorry Sang-ah,” San whimpered. His eyes were still red from crying, and new tears threatened to spill over his lashes. “I don’t know what happened, one moment I was so excited to watch the two of you and the next Hongjoong was yelling at me and you were on the floor.”
“It’s ok San,” Yeosang smiled sadly. “I know you didn’t mean it.”
“It’s not ok,” San snipped quickly, lips quivering. “I-I hurt you, really hurt you. And now you aren’t allowed to be with us and that’s not fair because it’s my fault that all of this happened.”
“It’s really not your fault San-ah,” Yeosang sighed. “You have really strong instincts, and something I did triggered some primal part of your brain causing you to react like that.”
“But it’s just not fair-”
“It’s not, but you voted for it to happen this way too.”
Yeosang regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth with a bitter aftertaste, not missing the way San flinched and hunched his shoulders to make himself smaller.
“I know. I just…I thought this would keep you safe. I can’t hurt you again Sangie, I can’t.”
Yeosang bit his lip and nodded slowly, wincing at the tears that had started to streak down San’s cheeks. He stepped forward, opening his arms slowly. San’s eyes widened for a split second before he was rushing forward, embracing Yeosang in a hug so tight he almost couldn’t breathe.
“We’ll figure it out, San,” he muttered. “We’ll figure it out.”
“We will.” San nodded firmly against his shoulder. “And the sooner we figure it out, the sooner you can join us again. If you even still want to.”
Yeosang paused for a moment before pulling back to look San in the eyes, dark pearls glistening in the fluorescent lighting.
“I would like to join you guys again, eventually,” Yeosang smiled.
“I’d like that a lot.”
Weeks turned into months, and months turned into a year, and Yeosang still shut himself in his room every time one of the members’ cycles hit.
He knew Mingi always asked for him in the height of his heat confusion, and that only added to the despair he felt every month.
He’d gotten more accustomed to the pain it brought by now, the way his bond pulled at his heart as if demanding he join the rest of his pack. It had started to cause him visceral pain, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to spend the first night hunched over the toilet with nausea and chills.
He’d never heard of a reaction like this before, but he also knew that while betas didn’t have a cycle they did rely on the emotional connection of their bond to soothe their inner wolf and meet their needs.
It had been ok at first, emotionally painful but necessary, watching everyone else slink into the nesting room while he stood in the living room to wish them all luck. He’d started using the time to make sure the pack was supported, running out to get snacks and refills for their mini fridge the second the cycle started.
If he couldn’t be there physically, he could at least make sure they were well prepared for the toll one’s cycle would take.
At first Yeosang had held onto the hope that they’d figure out what triggered San’s alpha so strongly, figure out what was needed so that he could return to being there with them.
He never thought he’d so desperately want to be able to sit on the sidelines again, just be there with everyone in the same room.
But then comeback season hit, and they were so busy Yeosang knew it was the furthest thing from anyone’s mind.
So much so, that Yeosang started to notice how everyone pulled away from him entirely, even outside of cycles. Him and San had talked in depth and he’d forgiven San multiple times over, but they still had times that were awkward when it was just the two of them. San was scared to initiate touch with Yeosang without explicit permission, and even the fans had noticed that something between them was off.
Wooyoung had been so determined at first to figure out how to get Yeosang included again, but between the stress of managing the cycles themselves and comeback season, Yeosang watched as he quickly forgot about it.
In the beginning he’d comment on it every cycle, remembering that they needed to look into it. He’d pick fights with Hongjoong and Seonghwa, and cry to Yeosang about how unfair it was.
Yeosang thought it was more unfair that they’d all seem to have forgotten their promise.
Yeosang had followed up with him about it at first, but quickly stopped when he realized how guilty Wooyoung would get after realizing he hadn’t been devoted to it like he’d promised to be.
Hongjoong and Seonghwa still checked in with him from time to time, but they were so stressed managing everyone else and keeping the schedules on track that they didn’t have time to really sit with him. Yeosang knew that they’d always promised he could come to them if he needed, but he didn’t want to add more things to their plate when they were already overburdened.
Slowly everyone started pulling away from him, and Yeosang noticed with bitterness that they seemed to have their own inside jokes and shared memories from the times they spent together during cycles. They all seemed much more comfortable with one another, more affectionate, more open, but that didn’t extend to Yeosang.
He noticed the members coming to his room to hang out less and less, so much so that sour raspberry was often the only scent in the small space.
Hongjoong still made a point to scent everyone on the mornings before they were to be out and about, something about needing people to know they were his and they were bonded. Yeosang couldn’t help but giddily look forward to it every time, knowing that it was likely the only time he’d get to engage in that behavior.
He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had really scented with him, anything more than the quick rubbing of wrists or the natural blend of scents that came when he cuddled with someone. Though cuddles were starting to become fewer and farther between. They'd never been overly physically affectionate with him, sure, but even those rare moments dwindled into nothing as they grew without him.
It was especially stark around cycles, no member seemingly wanting to carry his scent into the room. They still asked him to contribute clothing, but Yeosang wondered if they even added it to the nest or if it was just to make him feel included. They didn’t seem to want his scent otherwise, or at least that was the impression Yeosang got.
It quickly became glaringly obvious that he was watching from the outside in as his pack grew into their bonds and became what they’d all dreamed of when they committed to the bonding.
Everyone except him.
If anything, Yeosang noticed, he was growing out of the bonds holding him there with everyone. He could still feel all of their emotions, but it felt as though he was trying to listen through noise-cancelling headphones. He wondered if they felt the same way, but hadn’t had the guts to ask.
This had become the new normal, and he seemed to be the only one that remembered otherwise.
The rift that had started because of his subgender only expanded, Mingi's heat the catalyst. It cracked in fine lines against his bones, joining the mold and rotten marrow that festered below.
Everyone still spoke over him, still spoke for him at times. Everyone still assumed he didn’t want physical touch, and now some almost seemed too scared to even dare give it to him. Yeosang stopped wearing short shirts around the house, hating the way everyone glanced at the scar on his arm with pity and shame.
Sometimes he wondered if he flaunted it, if they’d finally remember.
It got to the point that Yeosang was even wondering if they still wanted him there at all. Wondered if they were even trying to work to include him again or if they’d all realized that things were better if he wasn’t there.
He’d looked into how to leave the pack a few times, but could never muster the courage to seek out a specialist and commit to it. Despite the deep ache in his decaying bones he still wanted to be a part of everything, wanted to be a pack.
He just didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to survive the pain that came with it.
Wooyoung’s heat had surprised them, everyone so wrapped up in schedules that they’d glossed over the circled date on the calendar in their kitchen.
Yeosang watched as Mingi was trying to call Hongjoong frantically, insisting he leave the meeting in the recording studio to come home before Wooyoung freaked out and noticed he was missing.
Seonghwa was running from room to room, gathering scattered pieces of clothing from each member. Yunho and San were getting Wooyoung settled, Jongho standing guard by the door until he knew each and every member was tucked away inside the room.
Every member but Yeosang, of course.
Yeosang bit back the rolling waves of nausea he’d felt for the last few days, now realizing it likely was due to Wooyoung’s heat. With shaky steps he made his way upstairs and into his own room, flicking the lights on only to immediately paw at them when the brightness made his head swim.
He walked over to his laundry basket and grabbed a few items, setting them on the floor outside his door for Seonghwa to grab before making his way down the hall to the bathroom.
His abdomen ached, and he barely made it to the toilet before he gagged sharply. His stomach lurched, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he lost the bleak breakfast he’d had that morning.
It was hitting harder and faster than it had the last heat cycle, Yeosang noted with watery eyes and a dry heave into the water below. He’d never had symptoms days prior to a heat cycle starting before.
After a few more minutes and unproductive retching, Yeosang stood on shaky legs and stumbled to the sink to wash his face. He winced at the pale face peering back at him, dark circles nearly bruised under his eyes that were red from the effort of bringing up whatever his stomach was holding.
He looked like shit.
A sharp knock at the bathroom door had him startling from his introspection, rinsing his mouth out once more before answering.
Mingi hovered in front of the door, fist poised to knock again, when Yeosang opened it. His eyes were wide and he kept glancing at his phone that was sitting in his other hand, screen bright.
“Hongjoong isn’t answering,” Mingi stated, hands trembling with worry.
“He probably has his phone turned off for his meeting,” Yeosang replied, wincing as his throat stung from the notion. Mingi nodded, eyes softening as he looked Yeosang up and down with obvious concern. Yeosang put a hand up to cover one of his scent glands reflexively, as if trying to conceal any soured fruit that would alert Mingi that something was wrong.
They had bigger fish to fry than his residual nausea.
“Are you ok?”
Yeosang nodded sharply, forcing himself to give Mingi what he hoped was a convincing smile.
“Yeah, just tired. Do you want me to try and get Hongjoong?”
Mingi bit his lip, nodding slowly.
“Would you? I hate to make you leave to go get him but-”
“It’s ok Mingi, breathe,” Yeosang smiled softly. “I can go get him. Wooyoung will be distraught if he’s not here soon.”
Mingi nodded again, eyebrows still scrunched together as he took in the beta’s appearance. He’d seen Yeosang tired before and this seemed to be excessive, but he needed someone to go get Hongjoong and Yeosang was the only option that would send Wooyoung into pure panic.
Yeosang fumbled through his dresser, slipping out a few scent patches and sliding them into his pocket before Mingi could get a closer look. He didn’t need his distress voiced to the entire world.
“You should get down there and let them know. I’ll be back soon alright?” Yeosang pat Mingi on the shoulder before shuffling back down the stairs. His head spun as he slipped a mask on, and he grabbed a jacket on his way out as the air seemed a bit too brisk for his liking.
He vaguely heard the sound of a door closing, and hoped it was Mingi returning to the nesting room to appease Wooyoung and the rest of the pack.
One less thing Yeosang had to worry about.
Yeosang was lucky that they lived only a few blocks away from the company, but never before had the walk been so daunting.
Halfway there he had to pause, stomach clenching in sharp agony as he rode out another wave of nausea. He paused on a park bench, leaning back to take shallow breaths and wait for the pain to subside. He took the opportunity to plaster the patches on either side of his neck, wincing at the irritation they already seemed to be causing.
He could feel himself shivering through his jacket, and with shaky determination he stood himself up again to continue the walk. At least then he could hopefully warm himself back up.
He got a few odd looks as he made his way down the street, but Yeosang just wondered how anyone could stomach the chilly air. He almost pulled out his phone to check the actual temperature outside, but a security guard waving to him had him sliding his phone back in his pocket and entering the KQ building.
“Didn’t expect to see you today,” Sujin said with a smile, pushing open the door for him. Yeosang nodded to him, mumbling his thanks and walking over to stand in front of the elevator.
“Hey, you doing ok?” Sujin placed a steady hand on his shoulder, and Yeosang blinked a few times to clear the fogginess from his vision. He hadn’t realized he’d swayed that hard while waiting.
“Ah, sorry. I’m just tired,” Yeosang smiled, hoping it was evident through the mask warming his face. “Was woken up from a nap to come collect our Captain.”
It was a lie, but one the security guard seemed to believe without a second thought. He chuckled, shaking his head and walking back to his post outside the door.
“Good luck to you then, Yeosang-ssi.”
The elevator chimed and he shuffled in, grateful that no one else seemed to be in the small box. He slipped his mask down to peer at himself in the mirrors lining the space, wincing at how bright his cheeks were against the paleness of his skin. He placed the back of his hand on his skin, frowning at how cold his hands were from being outside.
Or was his skin just that hot?
Did he have a fever?
Yeosang pulled out his phone quickly, flipping to the weather app while the elevator took him to the floor Hongjoong would hopefully be occupying.
It was 20° outside, he noted with a frown. He could justify needing some kind of jacket for sure, but warning bells started to alarm in his head at how bone-deep the chills he was suffering seemed to be.
He’d never gotten a fever with the others’ cycles before.
The elevator’s bell pulled him from his worries, forcing him to slip his mask back on and step out onto the floor. He could hear voices from one of the recording rooms down the hall, and he prayed that it was the one Hongjoong was in.
He was far too exhausted to search through all of them, and hadn’t bothered to look ahead to see which room he’d be in.
The moon must have felt sympathetic for him, because the second he opened the door he was met with several surprised gazes, Hongjoong’s thankfully being one of them.
“Yeosang? What are you doing here?” The captain smiled nervously, politely asking the other producers for a moment as he walked over to where the beta was trying desperately not to buckle over from the sharp pain in his stomach.
Hongjoong grabbed his arm and led him back through the door until they were standing right outside the room.
“Yeosang? What’s going on? I told you all I had this meeting today, is everything ok?”
Yeosang mumbled a response, but the mask muffled his already weak words and had Hongjoong rolling his eyes in irritation.
“Yeosang I don’t have time for this.”
“Wooyoung’s heat started,” Yeosang said, raising his voice ever so slightly. He watched Hongjoong’s eyes widen, and the alpha was quick to pull out his phone from his pocket. The older man winced at the number of notifications covering the screen before pocketing it once more, urging Yeosang to wait just a moment for him.
Yeosang didn’t hear what Hongjoong told the other men, too preoccupied with breathing through the rippling nausea. The walk over here certainly hadn’t helped anything, but Yeosang was starting to get anxious. He’d never felt this bad before, even with Wooyoung’s heat catching them off guard.
“-sang?”
Hongjoong materialized in front of him, forehead creased with concern as he waved a hand in front of Yeosang. Yeosang blinked harshly, realizing the captain had likely been trying to get his attention for a while now.
“Sorry, I just zoned out for a minute,” he lied, relieved that it was common enough for him to do that Hongjoong simply nodded in understanding before urging him to the elevator.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t have my phone on,” he sighed as they stood, descending slowly. “I should have double checked the calendar before agreeing to this meeting. I don’t think any of us remembered his heat was going to hit today.”
Yeosang simply shrugged to him, too focused on not vomiting across the tile floors to procure a verbal response. His mouth watered every time the elevator lurched, and he swallowed it back harshly.
They passed Sujin on their way out, who hollered to Yeosang to get rest at home. Hongjoong gave him a quizzical glance at the statement, but didn’t press beyond insisting Yeosang walk a bit faster.
“Sangie, come on, I know you’re probably tired but Wooyoung is waiting.”
Yeosang simply huffed at him, trying to force his legs to push forward with a little more energy. It was like pouring from a colander, and he managed to keep the pace for all of three steps before he fell back into his prior gait. It’s not like Wooyoung really cared if he was there anyway.
“Sangie, seriously come on,” Hongjoong whined, turning back with a disappointed frown when he realized the beta was several paces behind him.
“Just fucking leave me alone,” Yeosang snapped. “Walk without me, I’ll be there eventually.”
Guilt bubbled in his throat as Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed at his tone, and he raised his shoulders in an attempt to seem small. The alpha paused for a moment, the harsh coffee smell making Yeosang gag behind his mask, before shaking his head and moving forward at a significantly faster pace.
“We’ll talk about your tone later,” he called back to Yeosang, who momentarily froze once he realized Hongjoong was actually going to walk without him.
A part of him was hurt at the ease in which Hongjoong took him up on his suggestion, but he supposed he could only blame himself for putting the idea in his leader’s head.
The small sliver of hope that still burned within him was certain that Hongjoong would wait for him, ask him what was wrong, walk with him.
Hope had never found him to be so deserving.
Yeosang dared to laugh, a cold, breathless chuckle that had someone walking beside him glance at him with concern. If it were any other member of the pack, Hongjoong wouldn’t have been so quick to leave them alone.
Though, Yeosang thought with a bitter note, he was becoming less and less pack every day.
By the time Yeosang made it back to the penthouse the sky had started to melt into brilliant orange hues. The temperature had dipped, and Yeosang nearly thought his jaw was going to fall off with how hard it was chattering the last few blocks.
He pushed the door open with a shaky sigh, removing his shoes but keeping his jacket pulled tight against his body. He needed the warmth, needed the comfort.
He could hear the loud wailing moans from the other side of the nesting room, and if he’d been feeling better he knew he’d have been just as aroused as everyone in the room likely was.
Instead, the sound almost made him more nauseous, and he quickly ducked into the downstairs bathroom. He had barely closed the door behind him before he was ripping his mask off and gagging into the sink. His stomach screamed with every heave, but he simply choked on tears and bile. Once he managed to catch his breath, he pulled a thermometer out from the cabinet under the sink and stuck it under his tongue while he washed his hands.
Maybe he was getting sick with something.
He’d had bouts of nausea and pain with the heat and rut cycles before, but he never felt this bad. His head was swimming, and he felt himself slide to the floor as he rode out a particularly sharp assault of pain. What had started as simply his stomach hurting had morphed, and now his entire lower right abdomen felt like someone had lit a match and set it on fire.
He had a vague recollection that this could be something specific, but the haziness in his head made it nearly impossible to think about anything other than his current affliction.
Yeosang grunted as he pulled the thermometer out of his mouth, wincing at the numbers beeping back at him.
38.5°.
It wasn’t a high fever, but a fever nonetheless.
Biting his lip and steeling himself for the trek up the stairs, Yeosang stood on shaky legs. He clutched the edge of the counter with iron knuckles as he wiped the thermometer off and returned it to its home under the sink.
He made his way out of the bathroom, relieved that the hallway was mostly dark as the sun furthered its descent below the horizon. Everyone was still in the nesting room, oblivious to the hell he was surviving, and Yeosang was grateful for the oblivion as he dragged himself up the stairs.
He paused outside his door, foot bumping against the pile of clothes set aside on the floor. He could feel his heart stammer in his chest as his body froze, shivers ceasing momentarily. His eyes widened at the poor jumbled mess of laundry at his feet, and he whimpered when tears dripped onto the floor below him.
Heart shattering, he shoved the door open, realizing that for the first time no one had come to collect his clothes for Wooyoung’s nest.
His scent wasn’t wanted.
He wasn’t wanted.
Yeosang shut the door harshly, not caring if anyone questioned the noise, before shuffling forward and collapsing on the bed. His stomach screamed with pain, and he shoved a fist into his mouth with a strangled whine.
Thick tears poured down his cheeks, and he sobbed through the stabbing sensation in his abdomen and emotional turmoil wreaking havoc in his chest. For once he was grateful that no one could hear him over Wooyoung’s high pitched moans as he sobbed, and gasped, and choked on raw sorrow.
A small part of him hoped that one of them would know, would feel his anguish through their bonds and come running for him. Hoped that one of them would burst through the door, pressing close to wipe his tears away and ease his pain.
Hope had never found him to be so deserving.
Instead, he curled up into a fetal ball on the bed still laden in his outside clothes, and cried until his body succumbed to unconsciousness.
Yeosang woke up several times throughout the night to run to the bathroom, only to spit up bile and choke back tears. The pain in his abdomen never ceased, even with the medications he’d managed to swallow back in a desperate attempt to stop hurting.
When the sun started to creep through the windows signaling a new day, Yeosang rolled himself out of bed once more to pad over to the bathroom. He rifled through the cabinet for the thermometer they kept upstairs, sliding it under his tongue as he let himself kneel on the bathmat.
39°.
He winced, tossing the thermometer into the sink from where he remained huddled on the floor. It clattered against the porcelain, echoing in his head as he closed his eyes.
He needed to tell someone.
He needed to tell Hongjoong.
The last thing he wanted was to approach that door, the divide that kept him isolated from the rest of the pack. Throughout the last year he barely so much as breathed on the other side of the room for fear of fucking everything up once again.
He needed to tell Hongjoong.
With trembling legs and an even shakier hands, Yeosang fumbled his way out of the bathroom and down the stairs, ignoring the pile of laundry that still sat outside his doorway.
No one had come in the night to collect it after all.
He winced with each step, hand gripping the front of his shirt so tightly he was surprised he hadn’t torn it off. His stomach rolled with the movement, causing bright hot pain to blaze through the right side of his body.
“Hyung,” he muttered to no one, whimpering as he pressed toward the door that taunted him in his nightmares. With a weak sigh, he rapt his knuckles against the wood and held his breath.
When he heard footsteps from the other side he was quick to straighten his back, much to his abdomen’s discomfort. He brushed a hand through his hair in a poor attempt to look presentable, and wiped away any lingering sweat that had collected on his forehead.
Seongwha opened the door a fraction, peeking his head out and looking at Yeosang with eyes narrowed in confusion. Yeosang would have blushed at the fact that Seongwha wasn’t wearing anything, if he could think beyond the pain and fogginess.
“Sangie? What’s up? Is something wrong?”
Yeosang nearly ran to him, desperate to fall into the Luna’s arms and let him make everything feel ok again. His beta screamed for it as it picked up on the blend of scents he hadn’t gotten to experience for so, so long.
“Um…” he stuttered, trying to pull his brain back to earth to voice to Seongwha why he was really here.
“Sangie, I’m sorry but you know you aren’t allowed in here yet. If you don’t need anything I have to get back inside.”
Yeosang felt his heart clench and he opened his mouth only to once again procure nothing. He needed Hongjoong, needed someone, needed to tell them what was going on, but his brain stuttered at the way the omega was nervously looking back behind him.
He could hear Wooyoung calling for Seongwha, and he felt himself unconsciously take a step back.
“I really have to go Yeosang, but if you need anything just text one of us, ok?” Seongwha sent him a sympathetic smile before backing up and shutting the door once more.
Yeosang turned and all but ran up the stairs, chest heaving as soon as he made it past the threshold to his room. He collapsed onto the floor, knees scraping against the wood hard enough to leave a bruise.
His hands found their way to his hair and he pulled, sharply, mouth hanging open in a soundless scream.
He had one thing he had to do, one thing he needed to tell Hongjoong, and he’d failed.
As always.
Yeosang dragged himself to his bed, collapsing against the mattress. He reached for his phone and typed in a shaky text to Hongjoong.
Don’t feel well. Might need help.
It was short and to the point, and he hoped that Hongjoong would see it and come running for him, come relieve him of his misery. His stomach rolled harshly as he laid himself on his side, and he barely managed to lift his head over the edge of the bed before he vomited bile onto the floor.
His abdomen heaved for a while as he gagged, relieved that the pressure he was feeling in his stomach seemed to have abetted with the effort. It still stung, but he was grateful that the pain seemed to have lessened for the time being.
Maybe someone, somewhere, was looking down on him with pity.
He flicked his phone back on, a frown settling on his face at the lack of notifications or response from Hongjoong. Blinking through hazy eyes blurred with tears his body was somehow still able to produce, he sent another quick text in similar style as his text to Hongjoong, to Mingi.
Of all of them, hopefully he’d see it and respond.
Yeosang didn’t know when he fell asleep, or how long it had been, but the next thing he knew he was sitting up and sobbing. His abdomen was on fire, and he had to look down to make sure there weren’t actual flames licking against his skin.
What once had been localized to his right side had spread, and now his entire stomach felt as though it was trying to melt out of his body. He clicked his phone on, flinching at the brightness of the screen. Neither Mingi nor Hongjoong had responded to him, and he choked back tears as he shoved the device in his pocket.
Yeosang whined into the empty room, realizing his best bet was to walk back downstairs and breach the barrier to the nesting room once more.
His body was apparently not on par with that plan as his vision whited out as soon as he stood. When he managed to blink away the stars he found himself sprawled against the floor.
Did he pass out?
Yeosang wasn’t sure, but his head and body ached from their position against the hardwood beneath him. Whimpering, he half-crawled half-dragged himself to the door, body sliding against the floor.
Reaching up for the door handle, he managed to pull himself into a standing position and open the door into the hallway. He noted with vague disdain that the laundry pile was still there as he floundered toward the steps.
How he made it down the stairs without falling, he didn’t know, but Yeosang could swear he blinked and suddenly found himself knocking on the nesting room door once again.
When no one responded he knocked again, hearing Hongjoong mumble something to another member in irritation at having been woken up.
He shoved the door open, hair disheveled and wearing nothing but his boxers. He blinked a few times, still waking himself up, before his vision fell on Yeosang who was still wearing his clothes from yesterday. His eyes were red from crying, and if Hongjoong had looked hard enough he would have seen the dried streaks on his cheeks.
“Yeosang, what is it? It’s too fucking early for this man,” he grumbled, keeping one eye closed.
“I-I don’t-”
“Is it the cycle thing again? I know we haven’t talked about it for a while but we’ll get it figured out. But now isn’t a good time, and you know that.”
Yeosang simply grunted in irritation. Of all the times for the members to speak for him, this was also not the time.
“Hyung, I-”
“Also I didn’t forget about your tone yesterday. We’ll talk about it once Wooyoung’s heat is over, don’t think you’ve gotten off easy for that. I don’t know what’s going on with you.”
“I’m trying to tell you, I-”
“I need to go back to bed Sangie, it’s going to be a long few days. We’ll talk again tomorrow, Wooyoung’s heat should be over by then. Ok?”
“No!” Yeosang yelled, teeth bared as he held a hand out in desperation. He could tell his eyes flashed yellow as his beta cried out in agony. Hongjoong startled at his tone, eyes narrowing with irritation and disappointment.
“Yeosang. That’s enough. I know you’re upset about not being able to be in here, but continuing to meddle is only stressing Wooyoung out more. Is that what you really want?”
“No, Hongjoong you aren’t listening, I-”
“Enough is enough Yeosang. We will talk about this once everything is over.”
Yeosang’s eyes widened as the door shut in his face once more, throat threatening to close with the horror that pooled in his stomach.
He was just bothering Wooyoung.
Hongjoong wasn’t listening to him, no one ever listened to him.
They didn’t even notice how poor he was feeling.
They couldn’t feel his anguish through their bonds.
They didn’t care.
He didn’t get a chance to get a full sentence out. Between Hongjoong and Seonghwa, they both were quick to simply speak over him.
He hadn’t even gotten to tell Hongjoong what was wrong.
He sniffed, trying to hold back the sobs that bubbled in his throat. His nose was runny, and his eyes were runny, and it felt like he was drowning in waterfalls of sorrow.
A part of him wanted to bang on the door once more, scream himself raw until someone came to his side and finally asked him what was wrong. He’d be making a scene, but his vision swam and his abdomen seared and he knew that something was seriously wrong.
This wasn’t the usual nausea he got whenever one of them started their cycles, this was something different.
Something serious.
Stumbling into the living room, he pulled out his phone and called his manager. If anyone was going to listen to him, he would.
It rang a few times, and Yeosang’s heart almost plummeted into his stomach as he realized if his manager didn’t respond he’d have to make it to the hospital on his own. When the line clicked, he was embarrassed to say he whined in relief.
“Yeosang? It’s early, what’s going on?”
Ji-Won’s voice was a cooling relief to the flames singing through Yeosang’s abdomen, even if he could tell he woke the man up.
“I don’t feel well,” Yeosang groaned, curling into himself as another wave of pain tore through the charred remains of his stomach.
“What’s going on? What are you feeling?”
Yeosang tried to put his pain into words but fell short, barely managing to breathe through gritted teeth.
“Yeosang, do I need to call an ambulance? Are your members there with you?”
Yeosang shook his head to both, before realizing his manager couldn’t see him.
“No ambulance,” he managed to choke out. His manager rambled something else to him but he whined, cutting off the fellow beta.
“It hurts hyung,” he panted.
“Hyung? Yeosang, you're really worrying me, do I need to come get you?”
“Please.”
Yeosang nearly sobbed when his manager told him he was on his way, and to meet him outside to go to the hospital. His manager insisted that he needed to call for an ambulance sooner if anything happened, though Yeosang was convinced he didn’t need that.
Yeosang managed to stand and put his shoes on, slipping the mask that was shoved in one of his jacket pockets back over his face.
He thought about texting Hongjoong that he was going to the hospital, but flashes of his earlier irritation had him slipping the device away instead. His manager would probably tell him anyway.
Yeosang stumbled into the hallway, grateful that it was early enough the rest of the building was sleeping and the elevator was empty. He closed his eyes as he descended to the lobby, and could feel his body swaying with the motion.
By the time he made it outside he was exhausted, shivering at the brisk morning air. He realized only belatedly that he should have waited inside the lobby where it was warm until his manager got closer.
He contemplated sitting down and taking a nap where he was standing when the sleek black car whipped around to the front of the building. Ji-Won scrambled out, nearly sprinting to where Yeosang must have looked seconds away from falling flat on his face.
“Shit kid, you look like hell.”
Ji-Won didn’t curse lightly, and if Yeosang was more coherent he would have been anxious at the implication.
“Feel like it,” he slurred, slumping forward to rest his head on his manager’s shoulder. He felt his manager shift, and the next thing he knew an ungloved hand was pressed against his forehead. Yeosang winced at the cold sensation, but kept his eyes closed and his head pressed into the other beta’s shoulder.
The sweet aloe vera that he’d smelled on him before quickly grew bitter, and Yeosang knew the other man was teeming with worry. He felt guilty for waking him up and having him drive over here, but he also felt like death and knew he needed someone to look after him.
“Damn it, you’re burning up.” Ji-Won grabbed Yeosang by the shoulders and maneuvered him so that he was leading him to the car slowly. “Where are your members? Why haven’t any of them brought you to a hospital?”
“Wooyoung is in heat,” Yeosang grumbled, wincing as his manager helped get him sitting in the backseat. His cheeks singed with embarrassment as Ji-Won buckled him in like a child before closing the door. Heavy feet padded against the concrete and Yeosang watched through lidded eyes as he haphazardly scrambled into the driver's seat, barely remembering to put his own seatbelt on before tearing off the curve.
“Shit, right.” Ji-Won looked back at him through the mirror, eyes wide with obvious concern. Yeosang almost wondered how he knew, before remembering dully that all the managers had their cycle schedules on hand to make arrangements easier.
“Still, why didn’t one of them come down with you? I thought you were going to pass out and split your head open before I could get to you,” Ji-Won chided.
“They’re busy.”
Ji-Won didn’t seem appeased by that answer, eyes darkening as he took in the crumpled beta in his backseat.
“What are you feeling? What hurts?”
“Stomach,” Yeosang grunted back at him.
“Your whole stomach? Or just a part of it?”
“Was just some, but now it’s all.”
Ji-Won hummed, biting his lip as he kept glancing back at Yeosang who almost looked like he was going to throw up in his car. Not that he cared about the vehicle, he was just worried for the beta.
“When did this start, Yeosang?”
Yeosang slammed his head into the back of the seat as his stomach surged with the car’s movement, waves of molten fire eating through his bones. He whined, biting his lip so hard that he swore he could taste iron. His hands came to grasp at his abdomen, knuckles white with the strain.
“I know, kid. I know. We’re almost there. When did this start?”
Ji-Won’s voice was muddy in his head, but he could hear the panic as his manager sped through the streets. Yeosang wondered if the man had ever driven this fast before, and had to close his eyes to avoid looking at the nauseating blur outside the window.
Has his manager ever called him kid before? Was he that worried?
“No no, eyes open Yeosang. Stay awake for me.”
Yeosang cracked his eyes open and shot Ji-Won as much irritation as he could muster, though with how he was feeling he had a hunch he just looked pathetic.
“I need you to try and answer me, Yeosang,” Ji-Won turned to look at him as they waited at a stoplight. “When did this start?”
“Yesterday?” Yeosang offered. Sure he’d felt some nausea a few days prior, but it didn’t really hit him until yesterday when it slammed into him like a freight train.
“Ok…ok.”
Yeosang could tell his manager was trying to put pieces together, and he was just grateful that he didn’t have to think on it himself. Instead he focused on the seat in front of him, red-rimmed eyes slipping shut every so often only to be forced back open when his manager yelled something at him to keep him responsive.
Ji-Won whipped into the first parking spot he could find, throwing the vehicle in park before running over to the back door.
“Ok Yeosang, we’re here. Do you think you can walk?”
Yeosang hummed a response, dragging himself out of the car to stand shakily next to his manager. They took a few steps together when he felt his body sway, and if his manager hadn’t been there he’d have made quick friends with the parking lot.
“Easy, don’t make yourself pass out. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to carry you.”
Ji-Won chuckled lightly, but Yeosang could both hear and smell the anxiety laden in the laugh. Yeosang knew that if he didn’t have his scent blockers on right now, both his manager and the car would reek of rotten raspberry.
Every step they took had Yeosang’s vision swimming, and he wondered if it was normal to be this dizzy from pain.
They managed to make it inside, his manager flagging down a nurse and quickly describing the situation. He must have shown ID of some sort, because they were quickly being ushered to a private section of the hospital to avoid nosy onlookers.
Oh right, Yeosang hazily thought as the nurse helped him onto the bed so he could be wheeled back to a room. I’m an idol.
The room was quiet but cold, and Yeosang was grateful he still had his jacket wrapped around him from yesterday, even if it was a little gross. The nurse worked quickly to get vitals on him, talking with the manager as he listed the answers Yeosang had given him in the car.
Ji-Won had to have filled out some of the paperwork, as Yeosang realized he hadn’t had to do anything. He was grateful Ji-Won was here with him, and that he had the clearance needed to stay by his side.
When the nurse came to pull his jacket off Yeosang whined, but his manager was quick to let him know they’d get him a blanket as soon as he was changed. He offered to step outside so that Yeosang could put the hospital gown on in private, but when Yeosang failed to give a verbal response he stuck around to help pull the beta’s clothes off in favor of the hospital provided ones.
“Why are you wearing scent blockers?” Ji-Won asked, eyes dark with worry and something else Yeosang couldn’t name. Yeosang shrugged to him, too tired to try and put into words what was going through his head when he’d stuck them on.
The nurse worked deftly to remove them, wincing at the bright red skin underneath. Him having slept in the same patches as yesterday didn’t do his scent glands any favors. As soon as they were removed the soured raspberry flooded the room, and Yeosang wondered how Ji-Won wasn’t scrunching his nose in disgust.
“What’s his temperature?” Ji-Won asked as soon as Yeosang was tucked under the scratchy hospital blankets. The nurse had a hold of his wrist, and was lightly wiping the crook of his arm for a catheter to be placed.
“39.7°,” she responded. “He seems to be severely dehydrated which could be contributing, but I’m worried about the pain you described. I’ve given him something to hopefully help, but he’s likely still going to be uncomfortable.”
Yeosang hazily wondered if he’d ever had a fever that high before, and could feel his manager squeeze his hand with poorly disguised worry.
He barely felt the pinprick of the needle as his abdomen continued to flare, and he thinks he may have passed out at some point because he didn’t remember the doctor coming in until he was halfway through talking with Ji-Won.
“I’ll have the ultrasonographer come in here to check, but I’m very concerned about appendicitis.” The doctor was a tall, lanky man with circular glasses that reflected the buzzing fluorescent lights above. He had crisp scent blockers on, likely to prevent distraction and maintain professionalism, but Yeosang found himself wondering what he would smell like.
His brain must have been really fried for him to care about something like that.
“If your timeline is accurate then he’s at severe risk for rupture if it hasn’t ruptured already. As soon as our sonographer can confirm, we’ll have the surgery suite prepped for him.”
Yeosang’s eyes widened and he shot forward, the monitor next to him screeching with irritation at his sudden movement. He could see both the doctor and Ji-Won jump at the blaring noise, Ji-Won scrambling to the side of the bed to press against Yeosang’s shoulders and ease him back into the bed.
“Hey, easy Yeosang, it’s alright. We’re just trying to figure out what’s wrong.”
“I don’t want surgery,” he warbled, and his chest tightened with embarrassment as his eyes watered.
“I know kid, but you might need it. We just want to get you feeling better, ok?” Ji-Won smiled at him, and Yeosang found himself nodding slowly. The doctor shot him a sympathetic frown right as the door opened, the sonographer wheeling the machine in to get a better look at his abdomen.
Yeosang watched as she plugged the machine in, hands deftly arranging the probes needed and slipping a pair of gloves on. She spoke with soft and kind words, and Yeosang shivered as she pulled the hospital gown open enough so she had access to his abdomen.
“This will be cold for a second, but we’re just taking a peek to make sure everything looks ok.”
Yeosang nodded slowly to her, eyes lazily tracking her movements as she slathered gel on his right side.
She had warned him about the cold, but she didn’t warn him about the pain.
As soon as she pressed the probe against his abdomen Yeosang screamed, back arching off the bed as his nails dug into the mattress. He knew his eyes had to be blazing yellow as his beta cried out in response to the threat, and his throat burned with the cry.
Ji-Won and the nurse were beside him in an instant, gripping his arms to hold him down before he could lash out at the poor sonographer who was still pressing into his abdomen, now with panicked haste and repeated ‘sorries’. By the time she retracted the probe Yeosang was sobbing, incoherent words slurring out between shaky breaths.
Ji-Won’s eyes were wide, and he rubbed frenzied circles on Yeosang’s arm as the sonographer wheeled her machine out of the room with the doctor right on her heels.
“Shhhh,” he tried to reassure Yeosang and get him to calm down, his heart tearing as he watched the beta cry beneath him. “They’re done with that Yeosang, you’re ok.”
Sweet aloe vera coated Yeosang’s nostrils, and he found himself relaxing slightly as his manager tried to ease him down with his own pheromones. They weren’t as effective as Hongjoong’s, or any of his pack mates’ for that matter, but it helped a little.
“W-where’s Hongjoong?” Yeosang stuttered, trying to figure out why his alpha wasn’t the one protecting him and comforting him. “O-or Seonghwa?”
“They’ll be here eventually,” Ji-Won responded, biting his tongue. He was worried that Yeosang didn’t seem to remember Wooyoung being in heat, but the last thing he wanted was to bring up something that was clearly painful for the beta.
He hadn’t wanted to ask, both with it not being his place and with there being more pressing issues, but he found it weird that Wooyoung was in heat and yet the beta smelled only of his own raspberry.
Ji-Won had already texted the captain, urging him to call as soon as he got the message, but he had yet to hear from him.
Yeosang hummed in response to that, cracking his eyes open when the doctor came back into the room. The kind man flashed Yeosang a sad smile, before turning to Ji-Won and walking him through everything.
“There’s a pocket of fluid around where his appendix should be,” the doctor started. “It’s very likely that it’s ruptured, though we can’t estimate how long it’s been ruptured without more information from Yeosang-ssi. Regardless, we’re prepping the OR now for emergency surgery.”
Yeosang felt his blood freeze at the mention of surgery once again, but he was too tired to do much other than stiffen. Ji-Won rubbed his hand in sympathy, but Yeosang knew there wasn’t anything else to be done to fix this.
He knew people who had to have their appendix removed; hell he was pretty sure Wooyoung had his removed back when they were still trainees at BigHit. It was a routine procedure, to an extent.
Everything would be fine.
“Normally we’d go in laparoscopically to avoid excessive scarring, especially with Yeosang-ssi being an idol. However, with the confirmed rupture we need to make sure his abdomen is properly flushed out to avoid sepsis. It will be more invasive, but should prevent him having to be hospitalized for a longer period of time.”
Ji-Won nodded and said something to the doctor, but Yeosang’s head was still spinning from the information the doctor had thrown at him. His fever must have been high enough that his brain was still fuzzy, and all he heard was that they’d be flushing his abdomen out with something.
Why? He couldn’t say.
“I don’t think he’s coherent enough to sign this.”
Ji-Won’s voice managed to snag his train of focus, and Yeosang made a conscious effort to open his eyes fully.
“I can’t sign something like this, I’d need to get the group’s manager or the CEO down here. I’m just an assistant manager. I don’t know how long that would take.”
Yeosang could both hear and see the anxiety coiling around Ji-Won as the man clicked away at his phone, likely trying to get people to the hospital as soon as possible.
“I can sign it.”
Ji-Won narrowed his eyes and sent Yeosang a glare that showed he believed otherwise, but the doctor nodded and handed him the clipboard. Yeosang frowned at how shaky his hands were when he took the pen, and was just grateful he wasn’t signing autographs for the next few hours.
“You just need to sign here stating that you’re ok with this procedure being done.” Ji-Won tapped the paper for him. “I know you don’t want surgery, but I’m afraid this is the only option to make sure you’re ok.”
Yeosang nodded, briefly trying to read over the paper the doctor handed to him before giving up and scribbling his name at the bottom.
He was disoriented, but aware enough to know that there wasn’t anything else to be done. If the surgery stopped the flames still steadily burning away at his intestines, he’d happily have it done five times over.
Ji-Won sat with him while everything was set up, and even walked with him when they wheeled him into what he assumed was the operating room. He knew his manager wouldn’t be able to stay, but couldn’t stop the pathetic whimper from erupting from his chest as soon as he walked out the door.
“He’ll be right on the other side,” a nurse explained to him in a soft voice as a mask was slipped over his face.
“You’re just going to take a quick nap, and when you wake up you’ll feel so much better.”
Yeosang would have rolled his eyes at the childish manner in which they were explaining things to him, if their soft tone didn’t appease the attention-starved beta pacing within his soul. His beta preened at the warm touches and soothing voices, even if they were from complete strangers.
Was he really that touch-starved?
He wasn’t given a chance to mull it over, one of the nurses asking him to count down from ten as a light breeze was blown over his nostrils.
Yeosang doesn’t remember making it past six.