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The looks, the taunts, the thinly-veiled insults, the things people say that have everything to do with his biology rather than anything to do with him as a person — none of it is new to Hongjoong. He’s an omega, he’s grown up an omega, and he has no misconceptions about what that means for him living in an alpha’s world as he and all his fellow omegas do.
Still… that doesn’t make it any easier.
He’s the leader of Ateez, the captain. He’s not, however, the first omega to be the leader of an idol group. That breakthrough belongs to the seniors that came before him and he is forever grateful for that fact, but the truth is there are so few of them still active and in the business that he’s under constant and careful scrutiny just for merely existing.
It was a lot harder, Hongjoong thinks, when he and his boys had just debuted. See, debuting a group with omegas, betas and alphas alike is perfectly common, natural. Idol groups are often advertised and promoted as packs since it’s relatable and palatable. In fact, many idol groups truly become a pack sometime after their debut. Years of training and stress beside someone who has been through the same thing — it’s no wonder a bond, whether romantic or familial, forms more often than not. But along that same vein, debuting a group with an omega leader in charge of those omega, beta, and alpha members is a statement. A marketing scheme, pandering, scandal-prone — the theories and titles were thrown at Ateez in various articles during the days following late October, 2018.
That is, of course, if journalists deigned to give eight boys from an unknown company the time of day at all.
It had torn Hongjoong up, on one hand people were talking about them and their debut, on the other hand it was almost always because of him, their omega leader, and his mere existence. Not their talented vocals, visuals, rap, and performance skills, but their leader’s biology. KQ staff and higher-ups alike consoled him, telling him all publicity is good publicity but Hongjoong wasn’t too sure if he was worth the trouble. Seonghwa, both an alpha and his senior, was right there, a perfectly viable candidate. But KQ had told him Hongjoong was their first, and for a long time only idol trainee, and it was only right for him to take the position of leader. Hongjoong to this day still doesn’t know if he believes them — he’s sure that at least a small part in the decision of making him leader was for the drama of him being an omega and the news articles that would be sure to follow.
This all isn’t to say Hongjoong thinks he’s incapable of leading. No, he’s confident in his leadership skills and his boys follow him without complaint. Well. That’s not exactly true. His members do give him shit, but that’s less because they don’t want to take orders from an omega and more that they want to annoy and fluster Hongjoong personally. At the end of the day, though, he knows his boys would follow him to the ends of the Earth if they had to.
But of course, that still doesn’t mean everyone is willing to accept Ateez’s playfulness with their leader at an innocent face value.
“So, Hongjoong is the leader right?” The host is a tall man, his height falling somewhere between Yunho and Seonghwa, and his scent is unmistakably that of an alpha.
Hongjoong nods politely, if not a bit subdued. It can be exhausting — all of the interviews and variety shows they record during a comeback and he tries his best to keep his spirits up for their fans, but some days it’s harder for no particular reason. (There might actually be a reason; he’s been staying up late working on new songs. It always sounds good in the moment, but doesn’t feel so good when he wakes up for schedules with only a few hours of sleep.)
“Captain,” Wooyoung corrects the host, but cheerful enough that he sounds helpful instead of rude.
“Ahoy,” San adds. Mingi and Yunho snicker behind his back.
The host takes it well for the most part though Hongjoong can tell he’s a bit put off, with a simple, “Oh, I see. Instead of the leader, you’re the captain.”
Hongjoong laughs lightly. “Yes. In our storyline we’re pirates, and have our very own ship, so that makes me—”
“The captain!” Wooyoung and San chorus together.
The chemistry driven Woosan duo are a welcomed reprieve for the tired Hongjoong, so he lets them interrupt him with a fond smile. Some members tend to be more talkative in front of the camera than others, and Wooyoung and San are definitely those members. More than that, they bounce between lovey-dovey affection and playful bickering like a fast-paced tennis match. They’re a tried and true combination in Ateez, a fan favorite. It’s easy to let them take the spotlight.
The host focuses on them, just as expected, and the two, with various input from the other members, more or less steal the show for the next few minutes. Hongjoong himself laughs at their antics, gives reactions at the times he should, and is more than happy to let the others shine. And if he’s relieved that he can hide his tired eyes behind their exuberance nobody else will kn—
“Are you feeling okay?” Seonghwa asks, as he comes to Hongjoong’s side casually, leaning in and whispering under his breath. Hongjoong faces forward, still on camera, and pretends not to notice Yunho taking small steps towards them with a forced nonchalance the same way as Seonghwa did on his other side. Alphas.
Though actually, it does bring a warmth to his chest and the omega in him perks up. He can’t help it.
“I’m fine, just tired,” Hongjoong admits. Normally he wouldn’t allow himself to confess even that much to the members, but Seonghwa smells worried, anxious, and he shouldn’t have to feel that way over Hongjoong’s own stupidity. The omega in him wants to smooth the wrinkles on the alpha’s forehead, the tightness around his eyes. “I’m okay, really,” he reassures, then brushes Seonghwa’s back briefly.
The touch helps, it always helps his boys, and if he pets more with his wrist where one of the major scent glands is rather than his plain old hand, then neither he nor Seonghwa’s complaining.
“If you feel any worse,” Seonghwa says quietly, his voice rumbling with concern, the way only alphas can vocalize. Something loosens in Hongjoong’s shoulders at the sound of it.
“I’ll let you know,” Hongjoong finishes. He won’t, but Seonghwa smells satisfied all the same, and that in turn puts him at ease too.
Soon there’s a lull in the recording as energy dips and jokes lose their steam. Hongjoong can’t help but think it’s his fault for bringing the mood down, and he exhales shakily, angry at himself. The show goes on for a few more painfully unfunny minutes until the director calls out for a short break.
The members gravitate towards each other naturally during the stop, and Hongjoong soon finds himself in the middle of an impromptu group huddle. Hongjoong’s anger dissipates at the sight of his boys, the way they cuddle up to one another and their banter. Amused, Hongjoong brings a hand up to rub the neck of the member closest to him, Yeosang.
Yeosang turns to him slightly with a quiet but pleased, “Hm?” before he’s sucked into the conversation around them once more.
“—and then I’ll show off my flexibility by doing the splits, I haven’t done that in a while,” Wooyoung is saying when Hongjoong finally tunes in. Hongjoong laughs, half-shocked but also half-proud of his fellow omega’s brazenness.
San shakes his head next to Wooyoung. “No, no, you shouldn’t do that,” he says, pouting a little.
“What,” Wooyoung says, sounding offended, “why not?!”
“You just can’t,” San says. His scent sours and Wooyoung bristles.
Hongjoong’s just about to intervene and tell the alpha to actually use his words for once, when Yunho jumps in instead.
“I agree with Sannie,” he says. There’s a hint of fang when he pulls back his teeth in a grin that doesn’t meet his eyes. “That host’s been watching you nonstop since we started filming. I think he’d like it too much.”
“Alphas,” Wooyoung says, rolling his eyes, and Hongjoong feels that. “You think every alpha we meet is coming onto me and Hongjoong.”
“Don’t bring me into this,” Hongjoong protests half-heartedly, because a few of them turned their gazes over to him once Wooyoung spoke.
“At least Hongjoong isn’t the one begging for attention everytime we go out,” Yunho says, and he leans further into the huddle, closer to Wooyoung.
“Oh but you like it when I beg don’t you, alpha?” Wooyoung croons, leaning in as well.
There’s a few muffled growls and hums from the other members as Wooyoung and Yunho’s scents rise with intent. Now, admittedly, Hongjoong is a bit late in stopping the action, mostly because it’s hot and he’s only a man, only an omega, until he remembers he’s also the person in charge here.
He puts a hand on both of their chests, forcibly separating them, as he says, “Hey, we’re in public. Filming, in fact. Keep your hands and innuendos to yourselves.”
“Booooo,” Wooyoung says, but he backs down, “you’re no fun.”
“Waiting can be fun too,” Yunho says, consoling.
“You sound like Seonghwa,” Wooyoung complains.
“Hey,” Seonghwa says, frowning.
“Alright, alright,” Hongjoong says, grimacing as their—well, not quite innocent but still—banter starts to grate on his nerves. His head suddenly pounds at the loudness of their whispers, and the bright giggles that normally cheer him up are turning into annoyances in his tired state.
“Are you alright, hyung?” Jongho asks, and his voice is quiet with concern but it might as well be a blaring alarm since the members all seem to hear him anyway. “You look—”
“You’re not feeling well?” Mingi questions, he latches onto Hongjoong like an overgrown puppy, hands on Hongjoong’s upper biceps and looking like he wants to scent him more than anything else. But he doesn’t, probably because he’s always aware of wandering eyes, and as affectionate as Mingi is, he’s still rather awkward initiating PDA.
“I’m fine,” Hongjoong says, and he doesn’t quite scruff Mingi, not like he might’ve in private, but he scratches his fingernails at the base of his skull against the short buzzed hair there just the way his beta likes. Mingi all but purrs in his steady hands. He glances at the other members, also concerned, but their worries are already melting away at the sight of him and Mingi. So he insists, “I’m just a little tired.”
“Quiet on set!” the director shouts, stomping over any response the other member’s might have said then. “We’ll begin again. Places, please.” The room resounds in affirmatives to the call.
The members are slow to separate, and Mingi is especially reluctant to let go of Hongjoong, that is until San complains of favoritism then Mingi is quick to drop him like he’s nothing in order to sit next to San. Hongjoong shakes his head and lines up to sit next to Yeosang, who’d never treat him like that.
“You’re kind of smelly today, hyung,” Yeosang whispers. “And not in a good way. Please feel better soon.”
“Why do I even bother,” Hongjoong says.
Yeosang looks at him strangely at that, which is probably deserved but he’s being rude so Hongjoong won’t explain.
“Okay,” the host says loudly, “So next we’ll move on to the question and answer segment. Questions were submitted by Atinys on twitter, instagram, and our own website. Even with only a few days to submit, our staff ended up having to look through over 1,000 questions sent in!”
The members cheer at that, touched and a bit in awe. Hongjoong leads his boys in their introductory chant and goes on to thank their fans profusely, promising more content and concerts in the future for their support and interest. It’s the least he can do.
“Right,” the host says, a smile stiff on his face. It must be a hard day for everyone, Hongjoong thinks with sympathy. “Well first we have…”
Hongjoong lets the words wash over him, half-listening to questions as they come, and he feels a little guilty for it — for not offering the fans the same energy to match their honest and excited questions, but he still does his best to chime in from time to time. That is, until he notices that somehow it seems like the members are answering for him.
No, it’s not just his imagination, each question that is aimed at him has another member taking over smoothly and telling a few anecdotes that gain laughs or admiration. And once he starts noticing what they’re doing, he suddenly can’t stop. He… he doesn’t really know what to feel about that. On one hand he’s relieved that he doesn’t have to keep up, and proud that his boys are capable of handling their own. The omega in him is also pleased. Strong pack, it whispers to him, buzzing like a little annoying bee in the back of his mind, pack takes care of us so well. His inner omega is practically purring with happiness, something Hongjoong has to bite down on before it reaches his vocal cords. He’s always a bit reluctant to agree with his inner omega, as he is quick to fight any instinct he deems embarrassing enough, but in this case he can’t help but think the same way.
Then again, the other side of him finds it weak, pathetic. He can’t even bring himself to do his job, because what? Just because he’s a little tired? He’s the captain. If he can’t even discipline himself and do his own work, how could he possibly lead the others? It’s so hypocritical of him.
“This one is for Hongjoong,” the host says, the first time he’s specifically called by name. “‘First let me say I am so happy to see an omega in a leadership position,’” he reads off the cue card. “‘I wanted to ask for advice as a fellow omega who is trying to apply for a newly open spot high up in my workplace. I know many people have differing ideas on whether omegas are able to lead well, and was hoping to ask how you work past your omega instincts to be a great leader of Ateez. Thank you.’”
Well, it’s not like his members can answer for him this time. Hongjoong doesn’t really mind, he got more interested as the question went on. Things like this really inspire him. The thought that he’s now considered a role model for fellow omegas is awe inducing and humbling for sure— and yeah, maybe it’s for a small niche collective of omegas but he still has a voice for change and if he can make a difference in at least one omegas mind or life then that’s good enough for him.
Hongjoong hums, gathering his thoughts, as the atmosphere in the room becomes expectant. “I wouldn’t say I work past my omegan instincts,” he says. “Or in spite of them, either. I don’t think any traits are naturally linked to our gender, but something that we cultivate on our own. If you train yourself to become a leader then you can become a leader.”
“But don’t you think instinct can stop omegas from being great leaders in general?” the host asks, and Hongjoong blinks. The interruption is confusing, he didn’t… he didn’t think this would be a discussion.
“Maybe to a certain point,” Hongjoong says slowly. “But for example, if you are an introvert who is trying to be a leader, it might be difficult since your personality makes it hard to speak up or take charge sometimes. I think it’s like that. Something that you can work hard on, but at the end of the day you are still an introvert.”
“Personality is not instinct,” the host says. “Instinct is intrinsic, you can’t ignore instinct like you can with parts of your personality.”
The conversation is heading rapidly into a place Hongjoong does not want to go. It would not look good for him or Ateez to keep this up, especially when the status quo becomes involved. Saying something vaguely supportive of omegas in society versus saying something controversial about the role of instinct in social biology is completely different. He’d look too feminist, too supportive of omega rights. No matter that he is, it’s just too polarizing a topic. The company has told him and Wooyoung this about a million times to be careful with their words.
“Ah,” Hongjoong says instead of continuing. “I suppose we have to agree to disagree.” And forces a smile on his face, hoping it’s not too obviously fake.
“It’s more than disagree,” the host says, and then he starts to stand up. Hongjoong freezes. The host’s scent flares hot and angry, alpha and strong. The whole room goes silent. “It’s a ridiculous idea anyway! I mean, what place does an omega have as a leader? And what place do you have even giving advice?”
Hongjoong sits there, stunned. He glances around the room slowly, wondering if he heard that right but the other members look confused as well and nobody seems to know what to do.
The host, meanwhile continues his tirade, “I was looking forward to meeting Ateez because of you but it seems my expectations were too high. I was watching you the whole day and you’ve been shirking your leadership duties. You’re coddled by your alphas, who seem to be the real ones in charge. And you can’t even control your members. They interrupt you and disrespect you and you let it happen because you’re an omega and omegas are too meek to discipline others. And then when they do actually need your help as a leader you can’t do anything. I’ve never seen such a better argument for why omegas should not be in leadership positions than you yourself.”
Suddenly Hongjoong can’t hear over the beating of his own heart. He feels heat rise on his cheeks and can only breathe in and out.
A good leader does not make it hard for the people they’re in charge of. A good leader does not sabotage the team with his own agenda. Hongjoong likes to think he’s a good leader.
This alpha… Hongjoong can’t change his mind, he knows the type. Of course he's met alphas like this, every omega has. The words sting and cut him deeply but since they’re in front of the camera the only thing that could make the situation worse is escalating it. And Hongjoong will not make it worse for Ateez.
So he takes a deep breath and demures.
“I see,” Hongjoong says quietly, and he turns his head, an informal act of submission. The position gives him a better view of the camera crew and directors who are silent. They look conflicted, uncomfortable, but still not one of them speaks up. It’s disappointing but not surprising.
“That’s not fair.”
Hongjoong whips his head around, searching for the familiar voice, and sees Wooyoung glaring at the host.
“Hongjoong is a great captain,” Wooyoung continues, his scent rises, agitated and stinking up the room with pissed off omega. To Hongjoong, it’s one of the best smells in the world. Wooyoung adds, “You don’t know him at all so don’t act like you do!”
“Wooyoung,” Hongjoong says, eyes stuttering. Wooyoung, his omega, is beautiful, valiant in his rage, and his heart skips a beat, inner omega purring and touched. But his right mind knows Wooyoung shouldn’t speak out. Not against an unfamiliar alpha on his own show. Their reputation—the scandal this could result in in—
“Wooyoung’s right,” Seonghwa says, voice clipped and firm. “That was uncalled for, you have no idea what Hongjoong does for us—”
“Oh I get it now,” the host says, sneering at Seonghwa who mimics the expression. It’s getting out of hand now, Hongjoong knows, if even Seonghwa is giving in to his alpha mannerisms of intimidation. Maybe, just maybe the host is right, Hongjoong is helpless, a weak omega who can’t even deescalate the situation like he should. He doesn’t know where to start.
The host growls. “It all makes sense now. I bet he does a lot for you, huh? Omegas like that make me sick. Being handed shit just ‘cause you’re a good lay. It’s pathetic.”
Many things happen at once.
The director finally snaps out of whatever had him and the rest of the camera crew frozen to yell “Cut!”
And the members all stand up, pushing past Hongjoong so he can only stare silently at their backs. Multiple growls sound out. The loudest of them all coming not from Yunho, San, or Seonghwa, but their calm youngest, Jongho.
“What did you say?” The rumble of his voice is so low Hongjoong feels it in his bones, and to the very depths of chest. The threat is there, between the lines of his words and in a weird way it actually soothes Hongjoong. “I don’t think I heard you right.”
“Hongjoong?” a whisper to his right. Yeosang, eyes wide and chewing on his bottom lip.
“I’m okay,” Hongjoong says automatically. The scents of everyone in the room becomes too much too quickly, the urge to comfort hits him full force. To smooth down the edges of Yeosang’s furrowed eyebrows, the trembling of his hands, the fast breathing.
He reaches up to Yeosang, dragging a careful thumb to the slope of his nose, rubbing out the furrow of his brows, then falls away, and drinking in the scent of his beta gratefully as he moves closer. Yeosang hesitates for a second, and Hongjoong almost whines out loud at the thought of it. Then Yeosang comes closer, bringing a firm hand on the back of Hongjoong’s neck and scratching, like he’d done to Mingi before. Hongjoong purrs, can’t stop it this time, doesn’t want to.
“Is this how you treat all your guests?” Yunho growls, when Hongjoong peeks over Yeosang’s shoulder he sees his eyes are bright red instead of the usual warm brown. He’s towering over the host, the other alphas beside him, and Jongho is still growling low, hasn’t stopped since the first time. “This is disgusting. You should not be on air, not with the shit you’re spewing.”
San and Seonghwa are quieter but no less imposing. Normally they’re the least likely to “act their biology”, and instead they have a tendency for passivity and sweetness, typically omega traits, but Hongjoong is the last person to care about what traits are considered alpha, beta, and omega. He’s often inspired by San and Seonghwa in that regard, and comforted by them in equal turns as an omega who acts less than omega.
And then there’s Wooyoung by their side, eyes bright blue and fury etched onto his face. Physically he’s the least imposing, not shorter than Hongjoong, but slimmer, more of a natural omega beauty. But he’s fierce and loyal and unafraid to speak his mind. He wouldn’t back down to any alpha.
Mingi’s on the other side of Yunho, a beta through and through, headstrong and relaxed but he knows when to push and dig his feet in. Hongjoong slumps at the sight of them all, crowded in front of him protectively, blocking his view of the host, and Yeosang draws nearer.
“Hongjoong,” he repeats, smelling worried. Hongjoong focuses on his beta once more.
“Sangie,” Hongjoong says. Yeosang’s fingers never stop scratching on the back of his head. It’s nice.
Yeosang opens his mouth. “Are you—?” then he stops. “Er. Don’t—don’t listen to that guy! He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“Yeosangie is right,” San says, suddenly next to Yeosang, wringing his hands but his eyes are red and he’s frowning hard. “How can he even be allowed to say that? I mean how can a show hire such a—!”
“—sexist, rude, unfunny,” Seonghwa lists on the other side of them. “Completely unprofessional—”
“—badly dressed,” Mingi adds, crossing his arms.
“Badly dressed, thank you—” Seonghwa smiles sweetly at Mingi before glaring at the host again. “—awful MC. This is beyond disappointing and what you said is both demeaning and completely out of line. I have no idea how you got this job but you are one hundred percent unqualified for it.”
The host snarls at them but quiets down quickly when Yunho steps forward.
“And he definitely has no omega waiting at home for him with an attitude like that,” Wooyoung says loudly, “I can tell you that much.”
“Anyone could tell that,” Yeosang murmurs to Hongjoong who snorts.
“Shut up,” the host says. He draws himself up, tall but not taller than Yunho, but he’s posturing, puffing out his chest and scowling. And all of it aimed at Wooyoung. “You’re at least good to look at but you talk too fucking much.”
Hongjoong feels a growl building in the bottom of his throat that has no chance of being vocalized. It’s no matter though, because Jongho beats him to it. The youngest descends on the host and Hongjoong has half a mind to worry about it getting physical before he decides he doesn’t really care.
Jongho stops before he can put hands on the host, which is probably for the best. Instead he postures right back, crossing his arms and tilting his head back. Then, he deliberately turns his head away from the host to look at the camera crew — it’s an insult, and a good one at that. It says the host isn’t threatening enough to keep his full attention on. Hongjoong’s inner omega positively gushes with devious glee at their youngest.
“Is security going to remove him?” Jongho asks boredly. “‘Cause I have no problem doing it myself.” He grins, but more like bares his teeth, fangs showing, dangerous and protective.
“And leave all the fun for you?” Yunho siddles up beside him, just as powerful.
The two make quite the intimidating pair, and the staff must notice the danger in the air because they move in a flurry after their words.
“Get me security right now,” someone says into their walkie-talkie. Then to Ateez, “There’s no need for things to get physical, sirs. I’m sure we can solve this without violence.”
“What’s there to solve?” Seonghwa asks, and that’s his angry face. “He insulted our pack leader. We have a right to protect him.” Protect Hongjoong. Protect him. His pack is… yes, they’re good at that, so good.
Security arrives quickly during Seonghwa’s words, and the host goes with them but not without many complaints and protests. Hongjoong watches him go with some amount of detachment. He feels better with him gone, that’s for sure. It’ll take a while to get his smell out of Hongjoong’s mind though.
“I am so sorry this happened, Hongjoong,” the director apologizes. “We will be reporting this to the network and swift action will be taken. Like Seonghwa said, what he was implying was entirely out of line.”
“It shouldn’t have gotten to that point,” Seonghwa says, red eyes glowing and fangs on display. He’s taking deep shuddering breaths, chest heaving with every deep breath. He’s truly and utterly pissed, Hongjoong watches him with a curious fascination — this side of Seonghwa that rarely comes out, it’s so captivating, so… attractive, dominant. Hongjoong flushes at the thought, and shakes his head, suddenly feeling much more aware of himself and the situation than he has for the past few minutes. “Aren't there any background checks for your hires? Vetting? Sensitivity training at the very least?”
“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong says and stands up then, going to meet the rest of them, letting Yeosang’s hand drop off his neck. He’s the leader after all, and he should be present. “It was clearly a big misunderstanding.” Then, to the director, “We don’t want trouble. I’m sure you can edit out the worst of it and use the rest of the content, hopefully?”
The director stutters, looking between Hongjoong and Seonghwa like he doesn’t know who to listen to. It’s frustrating but not surprising.
“I don’t want that footage to be released,” Wooyoung says. “I don’t want to be in any content with him.”
“Yeah same,” Mingi says, “What’s one variety show that never airs?”
“Watch it,” Hongjoong says. The very thought is dangerous because exposure makes or breaks idols. And besides that the staff and director are right here, being told their variety show is worthless. His boys are kinder than that, humbler than that. Mingi falls silent, contrite.
“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says, and the full force of his gentle, protective gaze is staggering. Hongjoong tries not to crumble beneath it. “I’m sure some of us would rather forget this day and just delete the recordings. Myself included.” The other members nod vigorously.
Hongjoong knows what he’s doing and hates it. He doesn’t need to be coddled, he’s the captain, he should be coddling them — no, not coddling, omegas coddle others and he’s been told a million times omegas are bad leaders and Hongjoong is not a bad leader, he’s not — he leads by example and with a firm hand like he always does.
“I think—” Hongjoong says.
“Please,” Seonghwa says.
Hongjoong blinks. The director turns fully to face Hongjoong, awaiting his answer. Then it’s in his hands and suddenly he can’t be mad at Seonghwa anymore.
“Delete it,” he tells the director, relieved.
“On it,” the director says, and he nods to another few staff members who scurry off to do as he says. “Like I said, we are so sorry this happened. You can be assured that he will receive appropriate discipline once this incident is reported.”
Hongjoong deflates, all his tiredness from earlier forces his shoulders to slump under its weight and exhaustion pulls down the corners of his lips. “Thank you,” he says and bows. The others follow suit silently. He really just wants to go home now.
Their manager appears soon after, though where he was earlier when everything went down is unknown to Hongjoong. He couldn’t smell him before. The manager herds the members out of the room, out of the building, into the large van that fights all eight of them, and pulls the privacy window that separates the driver and passenger seat from the back.
The members huddle close together and Hongjoong relishes in the closeness of their pressed up bodies, the familiar, comforting meld of their scents. San’s breathing down his neck and Wooyoung’s bony elbow is digging into his side, but it’s nice.
“What an asshole,” Yeosang says, breaking the silence. Yunho snickers and pulls at his cheeks with both hands.
“Language, Yeosangie,” he coos. Yeosang says something back that sounds like another swear too muffled for Hongjoong to hear clearly but Yunho laughs again so it’s very likely.
“He didn’t even look good either,” Mingi says. “I mean, horizontal stripes and vertical stripes, what the hell was he thinking?”
“I know, Mingi,” Seonghwa says.
“I should have punched him,” Jongho says, sulking in his seat.
“No you should not have,” Seonghwa says, scandalized, as if he wasn’t growling and posturing with the rest of them just a bit earlier.
“He would have deserved it though,” Jongho points out.
“True,” Mingi says, nodding wisely.
And Hongjoong laughs at the absurdity of it all, the inane comments, it’s so them, his boys. He loves them, he loves how they love him.
“I hope that guy gets fired,” San says, and Hongjoong feels his nose nuzzle under his jaw near his scent gland. San loves scenting more than any other member, and he’s good at it too. “You shouldn’t believe a word he said, he was stupid and awful.”
“I don’t,” Hongjoong says quietly. Except he does, sometimes.
“I’m serious,” San says, he wraps his arms around Hongjoong’s waist, and Wooyoung grumbles as he’s pushed aside. “It doesn't matter if you’re an omega or not. We only want you. You’re the best leader.”
Agreements resound in the van, and Hongjoong’s heart warms, his cheeks too.
“Best captain,” Wooyoung corrects.
“Best captain,” San repeats.
Hongjoong breathes out, settling back into the cushion of the back seat surrounded on all sides by his very favorite people, and thinks he’ll agree with them just this once.