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It was just a haircut.
In the grand scheme of things, Hyunjin knew that this would classify as less than the tiniest blip in the radar because for one, his hair always grew back so fucking fast, and for two, it was just a haircut.
Then why the fuck did it feel like his chest was going to cave in the longer he stared at his reflection in the mirror of the bathroom he shared with Jisung?
Hyunjin knew his image: the company-approved, completely marketable one of the picture-perfect omega dancer and visual; then who he actually was when he wasn’t in front of two dozen cameras dressed to the nines working a job he loved.
It was dumb, Hyunjin thought, to feel this attached to something that was essentially dead save for barely a millimeter of actual life that was buried in his scalp for Christ’s sake, but it didn’t take away the fact that Hyunjin was still so fucking affected by what he was seeing in the mirror.
Hyunjin was used to having long hair that brushed his shoulders and never went above his nape, and it went without saying that he himself had gotten attached to the picture he made like that. He had become familiar with the way he presented himself with long hair and to have it so drastically changed–
He hadn’t really seen himself at the salon, opting to close his eyes and let the stylist shear his hair off, and after she was done and had asked him if he liked it, Hyunjin had barely glanced at his reflection before he was shoving his beanie and tugging his hood over his head, standing up to thank her with a bow.
He didn’t blame the poor stylist who had chopped off his hair. She was just as much a part of the same machinations that Hyunjin was as an idol in the entertainment industry, and would be for as long as he was doing what he did.
Hyunjin didn’t know if he was thankful or mournful that he had been the only one from the pack that had been scheduled at the salon, but the moment he had gotten home and essentially locked himself in his and Jisung’s shared bathroom and surveyed the true extent of what his most recent trip to the salon had left him with, Hyunjin thought that maybe it was better this way.
Maybe it was the lingering effects of the post-heat that was making him so fucking emotional over a haircut of all things. He had just finished his heat a few days ago and he had been upset over far less during his pre-heats and post-heats; each and every moment was more embarrassing than the last and Hyunjin pretended to be deaf, dumb, and blind whenever one of his packmates would bring it up in good humor because he never handled embarrassment well.
But this haircut. This felt…worse. Bigger, somehow, even if he logically knew it wasn’t.
Hyunjin sighs, truly irritated and aggrieved at the situation but mostly at himself.
He wasn’t going to be able to hide it forever. Hyunjin wasn’t dumb; his pack, his family, were going to see him like this sooner rather than later, and then afterward the whole world will chime in with–
“Hyunjinnie! Hyunjinnie, Minho hyung is cooking for us tonight and he wants us at their place in half an hour!”
Hyunjin isn’t very proud of the way he almost slips on the tile, turning as he did at the loud knocks and Changbin’s cutesy voice coming through the door, but he hopes his voice holds steady when he calls out,
“I’ll be out in a minute, hyung!”
Right before turning back to the mirror.
Hyunjin didn’t think he was vain, at least not when it came to what good genetics and idol grooming had given him. He didn’t take pride in the way he looked the way he did in his dance, his voice, or his art; he was of the firm belief that taking pride in something that you haven’t actively worked for was superficial and hollow. Cheap.
Then why the fuck was this damned haircut giving him so much of fucking grief?
Hyunjin knew what he looked like, he was very aware of what people saw when they saw him, and coupled with his sub-gender, Hyunjin knew that he had everything going for him in that department. His packmates never let him go a single day without letting him know – either directly to his face or behind his back that would inevitably make its way back to a very flustered and pleased Hyunjin – about how much they loved him, how pretty they thought he was.
And Jisung–
Hyunjin is unable to stop the slight twitch to his lips as he thinks about how Jisung takes every single opportunity – regardless of whether they’re on camera or not, much to Hyunjin’s ongoing amusement and exasperation – to announce to the whole fucking world how enamored he is with him. But even more than that, Hyunjin doesn’t think that he’ll ever forget the sincerity and the adoration that suffuses every inch of Jisung each time he has Hyunjin all to himself, whispering to him about how besotted Jisung is with him every day, how he makes Jisung’s heart ache whenever he so much as looks at him, how he’s running out of space on his secret hard drive where he has songs upon songs written for Hyunjin or about Hyunjin, how Jisung sometimes finds himself at a loss on what to do or say or think whenever the realization that Hyunjin is his hits him–
Point being.
Hyunjin knows that he’s loved.
He’s so, so loved; loved by his parents, by his pack, by Jisung who Hyunjin knows is the person he’s going to spend the rest of his life with, by his friends, by Stay–
Hyunjin knows that for those who matter to him, and to whom he genuinely matters, what his hair or his face, or his body looks like is of very little significance. Just the other day Minho had offhandedly said that he’d think Hyunjin was still the fourth prettiest thing he’d ever seen even in his life if Hyunjin ended up as bald as an egg, all the while peeling an egg for him in a green room at one of their schedules.
Hyunjin had been touched and amused as he had nuzzled into the older omega’s side in thanks because he had known Minho long enough to read between the lines, and fourth on Minho’s list of the prettiest things he’s seen was still quite the compliment (first came Soonie, Doongie, and Dori in a combined tie, second came Chan when he was sleeping, and then third, of course, came fucking pudding because Minho was weird like that, and Hyunjin was very content to stay in fourth place on Minho’s list anyway).
But this damned haircut was giving him so much angst and it’s barely been a fucking hour since he got it and it’s a dumb haircut and–
Fuck.
Hyunjin groans, and with one last disgruntled look at himself in the mirror, he pulls on the beanie but leaves down the hood of his sweatshirt, knowing that the extra layer would only hasten the inevitable reveal that was imminent in the next few hours.
…
“What’s with the hat? Did they actually make you look like an egg?”
Hyunjin sighs because of course, Minho would be the first person to pounce on him when he slinked into the apartment after Changbin with weary eyes. At least the older omega had deigned to do this right in the entry hallway away from everyone else that Hyunjin could already hear nattering away either in the living room or the kitchen.
“No,” Hyunjin sighs, his eyes downcast. “I mean, they might as well have,” he can’t help but add with a mutter and that has Minho stepping closer until his socked toes are touching Hyunjin’s own.
“I like your socks,” Hyunjin says absently, his eyes trained on the psychedelic cats printed on the black fabric of Minho’s socks. “They’re cute.”
Minho sighs.
Hyunjin is both surprised and not when a gentle hand reaches out to cup the side of his face and tilt his head up so Hyunjin has no choice but to look at Minho’s kind, kind eyes straight on. Hyunjin feels his own eyes start to prickle at the gentleness he sees in the older omega’s face, and it’s so dumb, it’s so fucking dumb because it was a bloody haircut and here Hyunjin was, acting like his world had fucking ended, and gods, how much more pathetic could he–
“Careful,” Minho murmurs with a wry smile, his thumb brushing over the cut of Hyunjin’s cheek tenderly. “That’s one of my favorite dongsaeng’s you’re thinking shit about.”
Hyunjin’s eyes fill with tears and he barely has time to even register the fact before Minho’s pulling him into his arms with a firm gentleness that makes Hyunjin’s tears flow faster.
Oh yeah, there it was. Fucking post-heat hormones, fuck.
Hyunjin clutches onto Minho’s broad shoulders, his fingers digging into the strong muscle as he hides his snotty, teary face in the crook of Minho’s neck, trying his very best to keep his sounds to a minimum. Minho doesn’t hush him or ask him what’s wrong or push him to do anything but cry, his small hands steadily smoothing up and down Hyunjin’s back and his hair, softly crooning at him while pumping out calming pheromones into the air until Hyunjin’s tears subside a little.
It's a miracle, Hyunjin thinks as he holds himself limp when Minho starts fussing over his face, wiping away his tears with a tissue that Hyunjin doesn’t even know where it came from, that nobody else had come out to see what was taking the both of them so long.
But then again, Hyunjin could smell the delicious aroma of whatever it was that Minho had cooked up for them all the way in the entryway, which also meant that it was more than enough incentive for the rest of their pack to stay in the kitchen to greedily drag in lungfuls of the aroma until Minho deemed it time to eat.
“It’s dumb,” Hyunjin sniffles as Minho finishes patting his face dry, shoving the used tissues in the pocket of his apron carelessly. “It’s just a haircut and I’m just. Ugh. Overreacting as usual.”
Minho shrugs, dropping his hands to Hyunjin’s shoulders and squeezing once in reassurance.
“Your feelings are valid, Hyunjin-ah,” Minho says softly. “It may be just a haircut, but that doesn’t mean that it isn’t a change. And change is generally a scary thing, so be a little kinder to yourself hm?”
And then,
“If it helps you feel better, think of your new haircut as practice for what you’ll see in the mirror for the two-year enlistment in the future if it really is that short. Better be prepared now and get all those feelings out instead of having a breakdown in the middle of a military camp, yeah?”
That makes Hyunjin snort, and then giggle because–
“You have the weirdest ways of comforting people, hyungie,” Hyunjin tells Minho with a watery, thankful smile. “Plus,” Hyunjin unconsciously pouts, “It’s not that short. I still have…hair.”
Minho huffs out in amusement and Hyunjin smiles because yeah, that sounded ridiculous both inside and out of his head.
“So,” Minho tells him, his eyes softening again. “What do you wanna do? You wanna keep wearing your hat until you feel better – I’ll tell the others to fuck off if they say anything – or do you wanna get it over with?”
Hyunjin chews on his lower lip but stops when Minho makes a tsk-ing noise and flicks his chin.
“Will you be honest?” Hyunjin asks, hating how small he sounds as his hands go up and hover at the sides of his ears, fingers brushing against the soft wool of his beanie. “About what you think?”
This time, Minho actually rolls his eyes.
“Do you really think I’m capable of not calling you Humpty Dumpty if you actually look like Humpty Dumpty under there?”
Those words shouldn’t comfort Hyunjin, but Minho has always had a way with everything he did that was so intrinsically different from everyone else so, Hyunjin gathers up his courage, tugs off his beanie and finally, finally lets someone that wasn’t himself or the stylist see his extremely short cropped, blond hair.
Minho’s face remains impassive as he takes his time looking his fill and Hyunjin stands there with his back a little bowed and hands nervously wringing his beanie while he waits for Minho’s verdict. Hyunjin wishes that the older omega wasn’t so good at concealing his emotions so well – facial expression, scent, physical tells –because he has no idea about what’s going on behind Minho’s expressionless face.
Then.
“Not Humpty Dumpty,” Minho says nonchalantly as he reaches out to run gentle fingers through the short hair atop Hyunjin’s head. Hyunjin shamelessly leans into the touch, almost purring when Minho starts to scritch at his scalp but stills incredulously when Minho says,
“Coconut.”
Hyunjin’s jaw drops in indignation, mortification, and if he was being honest, relief.
Relief that Minho wasn’t making a big deal about it and was taking this in stride, even if it meant teasing Hyunjin with his lazy smirk as he repeats himself, still scritching at Hyunjin’s scalp.
“You look like a cute little coconut, Hyunjinnie,” Minho tells him, his scent finally leaking out, the fondness in it inescapable as Hyunjin breathes it in even as he balefully pouts at the older man. “Reminds me of you when we first met.”
That just makes Hyunjin pout harder.
“I had more hair then,” he whines. “Hyung, I look so weird like this! It feels weird and I feel naked but most of all, I just feel– “
Hyunjin cuts himself off as the real reason why he was feeling so wrong-footed slams into him with the subtlety of a freight train. Fuck. Maybe he really should’ve waited a few more days before getting this done because the post-heat hormones were really testing him.
Minho’s brows furrow a bit and even without him having to verbalize it, Hyunjin sees it as an encouragement to continue whatever he had been about to say,
Hyunjin sighs forlornly and Minho holds steady – he had really been hitting the gym lately, fucking hell – as the taller omega folded himself back into Minho’s arms with a low whine.
“Unpretty,” Hyunjin murmurs into the crook of Minho’s collar, hugging him tightly. “I just feel unpretty.”
…
Chan must’ve been selected as tribute to come to see what was taking the both of them so long and Hyunjin is so, so grateful when Chan takes one look at Hyunjin’s tear-streaked face and the scarily pleasant look that Minho was sporting and beams at Hyunjin so hard his eyes scrunched shut, his dimples popping.
“Aww, Hyunjinnie,” Chan coos, and Hyunjin relaxes even more, bending down a little so Chan can take his own chance at gently brushing Hyunjin’s cropped hair with his fingers, the pack alpha’s scent going all gooey and soft in genuine happiness.
“You look so cute, Hyunjin-ah,” Chan murmurs, steadily stroking Hyunjin’s hair while Minho watches the alpha with eagle eyes. “Seriously, Jinnie, you look so adorable! Like a dumpling! It really makes me want to just squish you and– “
“Hyung, my face– “ Hyunjin tries to say around his giggles but it comes out all mushed because Chan had moved on from his hair to squish Hyunjin’s cheeks. Minho relaxes and shrugs indifferently when Hyunjin pleadingly catches his eyes over Chan’s shoulder, silently begging the pack omega to free him from their alpha’s adoring clutches.
When Chan finally lets go of Hyunjin once Minho decides to take pity on him, Hyunjin feels so much better than the turmoil of emotions that had plagued him ever since he had gotten up from the stylist’s chair.
“He looks like a coconut,” Minho breezily corrects Chan, nudging him away to try to tame Hyunjin’s short hair that was no doubt sticking up everywhere thanks to Chan’s ministrations. Chan doesn’t seem too upset at being bodily moved because he wastes no time latching onto Minho’s back, his arms coming around the older omega’s middle and nuzzling into his nape.
Minho makes a face but they all know that it’s for show since Minho doesn’t do anything to move away from Chan.
“A very cute coconut,” Chan agrees sagely and Hyunjin just– Hyunjin loves them both so much.
“Mm,” Minho hums and smooths down Hyunjin’s hair for the last time, stepping away from the taller omega and back into Chan’s space, not that there was any between the two of them in the first place.
Minho’s face is unreadable but his eyes are soft when he says,
“A very pretty coconut, if I say so myself.”
Then,
“Chan-ah, don’t you think that Hyunjin looks like a pretty coconut now?”
Chan doesn’t hesitate to nod in acquiescence and answer honestly, his scent driving the point of his honesty home.
“Very pretty,” Chan says with a dimpled smile. “The prettiest.”
It’s not much, it really isn’t but it still makes Hyunjin feel eons lighter as he gratefully smiles at his pack alpha and pack omega. It feels odd, to seek validation for his external appearance when Hyunjin had always done his best to steer conversations away from his physicality, but it’s like Minho had said. This was a change and all change is on some level, always a little scary.
Still, Hyunjin can’t really keep the tremulous wobble in his voice when he asks the both of them, his tone quiet enough that it’s definitely just for the three of them,
“You really think so? That I still look…you know.”
“Hyunjin-ah,” Minho looks him dead in the eye and tells him seriously, “You could be covered in horse shit and wearing a burlap sack sweating out in a field at midday, and you’d still be the prettiest fucking thing any of us have ever seen.”
…
Changbin notices him first when Hyunjin slinks in after Minho and Chan, and their third oldest literally leaps off of his stool to make a mad dash in Hyunjin’s direction, his hands already outstretched and cooing like a grandmother accosted with a particularly pudgy baby.
“Aigoo, Hyunjin-ah! Hyunjinnie, my pretty, pretty Hyunjinnie you look so cute! How can you look this cute? Who gave you the right– “
“Hyung– Binnie h-hyung– “
Hyunjin once again finds himself being squished within an inch of his life, Changbin doing his utmost to both smush his face and brush his hair at the same time. Hyunjin laughs when Changbin yanks him down to gently press his cheeks together, his eyes all big and shiny and earnest when he tells Hyunjin with extreme solemnity,
“I want to eat you. No, really!” Changbin whines when Hyunjin barks out a laugh, endeared and relieved. “Jin-ah, I’m serious! You just– you just look so fucking adorable! You look even more like a dumpling now– “
“Minho hyung thinks I look like a coconut– “ Hyunjin manages to get out between giggles and Changbin squishing his face, Chan piping in from somewhere with a sage, “A very pretty coconut,” that has Hyunjin’s scent going sweeter.
Changbin frowns a little as he lets go of Hyunjin’s face, his hands slipping down to rest on either side of Hyunjin’s neck, but he doesn’t take a single step backward which put the both of them within a handspan of a distance of each other.
“Hm,” their third oldest hums thoughtfully, his eyes narrowed as he studies Hyunjin with alarming intensity. Then, Changbin breaks out into a bright grin, cooing all over again as he says, “You do! You do look like a cute little coconut! Aish, you’re really making my brain confused because it just wasn’t built to process such cuteness.”
“Hyung,” Hyunjin whines, batting away Changbin’s hands, his face and ears burning. Hyunjin pouts but all it does is make Changbin let out a despairing noise before snagging his wrist in his and steering him towards the kitchen table and plopping him down on a chair next to Felix who seemed to be vibrating in his chair, his eyes big and shiny as he grinned at Hyunjin.
“Hi, Lixie,” Hyunjin murmurs, ready for it when Felix scoots his own chair close enough for the smaller omega to happily cuddle into Hyunjin’s arms. Hyunjin glances around at the kitchen – Changbin watching him and Felix with a besotted look on his face, Chan murmuring something to Minho at the stove before sneaking a quick kiss behind his ear – and wonders out loud,
“Where are the others?”
“Desert duty,” Felix chirps, looking up at Hyunjin with his big eyes, one hand going to finger the short-cropped strands of blond hair with a soft smile. “They should be back soon, don’t worry.”
Hyunjin hums, bending his neck to dip his nose into Felix’s own, taking in a lungful of the younger omega’s sweet scent and letting it calm him down. Felix relaxes into Hyunjin’s scenting and Hyunjin almost forgets about how upset he had been before coming over until Felix tentatively asks in a quiet voice,
“Why were you crying, Jin-ah?”
Hyunjin sighs and retreats from Felix’s neck with a chaste kiss pressed to his scent gland in a silent thanks. Changbin had gravitated over to the oldest members and was trying to wheedle Minho into letting him have a taste of what was bubbling away on the stove, Minho staunchly refusing him while Chan watched the two of them with amused fondness.
One of Felix’s small hands reaches up to gently trace Hyunjin’s undoubtedly swollen and slightly red under eyes, a tiny frown marring his pretty face as he looks at Hyunjin thoughtfully.
“It’s dumb,” Hyunjin finds himself repeating the same sentiment he had shared with Minho, and just like Minho had, Felix is quick to defend Hyunjin against Hyunjin.
“It’s not,” Felix says seriously. “If it’s something that made you upset enough to cry, it’s not dumb.”
“But it is,” Hyunjin admits lowly. “It’s my– it’s the hair, Lixie. Like, I dunno. It makes me feel…unpretty? And I know that none of you are going to be cruel about it to me but I’m just worried, I suppose. About what everyone else will think.”
Every single one of them had been the recipient of hate – some deserved, most unprovoked – from all sorts of people from the very beginning of this all.
Whether it was for superficial reasons such as a pair of braces – whoever thinks that Seungmin’s smile is ugly can fuck right off into a busy intersection mid-rush-hour with a blindfold on because they couldn’t be more wrong – or for something more serious like mistakes that they’d made when they were angry kids that they had all tried very hard to take accountability for and learn from, all of them had been through a wide variety of hate.
Hell, Chan had gotten a ridiculous amount of hate for hanging out with his friends from other groups and Hyunjin had been amazed because of course Chan was going to be that one idol who was going to get jumped for having friends.
The point being, it all came part and parcel with their career and they’ve learned to roll with the punches, so to speak.
But that didn’t mean that words from strangers didn’t affect them either, even if it was illogical to care about such things in the first place.
Jisung had called it the Inevitable Idol Paradox once.
Their images were carefully curated so that they would hold the maximum amount of appeal to their fans. But their fans always wanted the most authentic versions of themselves, calling out management for putting them in uncomfortable clothes for performances, keeping them on strict diets, restricting their freedom of expression, and so on. And when one of them would inevitably either slip up or intentionally let a peak of their true selves through, their fans would riot because no, this isn’t what they were used to, where had the old so-and-so gone, all the while still asking for authenticity.
Jisung had also been baked out of his mind when he had enthusiastically explained that one, so, the theory and the name could probably benefit from some fine-tuning if Hyunjin remembers to mention it to him.
“Remember what happened the last time I cut my hair?” Hyunjin asks Felix with a grimace, making the smaller omega wince. “Yeah,” Hyunjin smiles a little grimly. “That’s what I’m worried about the most, I guess. And just. I dunno, I got so used to having long hair, and now.”
“Now you’re still you,” Felix tells him firmly, collecting both of Hyunjin’s hands in his own much smaller ones. “You’re still Hwang Hyunjin. Dancer, choreographer, rapper, singer, writer, producer, painter, model.” Felix pauses and asks Hyunjin, “Wait. Did I miss anything? I feel like I missed something,” to which Hyunjin shakes his head, his eye glossy all over again.
Felix nods resolutely, his eyes boring into Hyunjin’s own. “And you’re also still our own Hyunjinnie whom we love and adore, and I guarantee you that you’ll still wake up to our group chat randomly thirsting over one of your fancams or a magazine editorial or a TikTok because we’ll never not think that you’re the prettiest human to ever human, okay?”
“I love you,” is all Hyunjin can say as he pulls Felix into an all-encompassing hug, the smaller man all too happy to wrap his skinny arms around Hyunjin’s back, curling himself into Hyunjin’s frame. “I’m so thankful for you, Yongbokkie, you have no idea.”
“I love you,” Felix replies sweetly, tightening his arms around Hyunjin. “And I’ll always be there for you no matter what.”
…
Hyunjin is sitting with Changbin, the both of them having set the table as per Minho’s instructions while Felix had helped the two oldest members dish out the delicious smelling food that Hyunjin had no idea how Minho had time to make when all of them had been busy the whole day.
It’s nice, peaceful, and domestic, but with Jeongin, Seungmin, and Jisung missing with the desert that Changbin had started whining about, it feels incomplete.
Felix tries to divert Changbin’s attention from the missing desert and keep his sneaky hands away from the dishes all laid out pretty and smelling oh, so tempting on the table while Hyunjin tries to do the complete opposite by goading Changbin to take just one kimbap, hyung, Minho hyung won’t even notice it simply because it was fun.
Minho and Chan were in their own little bubble when Hyunjin glances at them, the both of them bodily turned towards each other with their heads bent together, talking quietly with gentle smiles and soft touches. Hyunjin looks away when Minho cups Chan’s cheek with his palm and pulls the older man’s lips towards his own and wonders if he and Jisung look just as happy as the two oldest members look whenever they are together.
Hyunjin’s nerves flare up all over again when they all hear the front door beep and Jisung and Jeongin’s loud voices spill through until Seungmin asks them to shut up because they were both clearly wrong about whatever they had been chattering about which devolves into Jeongin and Jisung ganging up on the sole beta of their group with startling speed.
Minho sighs and moves to stand but Chan places a hand over his forearm and murmurs ‘I’ll get them, baby, you stay’, before doing just that.
Some of Hyunjin’s nervousness must be showing since Felix’s tiny hand slips into his own and when Hyunjin turns to him, Felix, and Changbin who was seated next to the younger omega, both give him reassuring smiles.
“Relax, Jin-ah,” Minho says while absently twirling a knife through his fingers as they listen to Chan corralling their youngest members towards the kitchen, Jisung loudly excusing himself to go pee before his bladder actually burst. “You’re going to make the greens wilt.”
Hyunjin pouts as Changbin comes to his defense.
“How can he relax when you’re literally twirling a knife in your hand, hyung?” Changbin asks incredulously. Minho smiles at him sweetly and makes the knife seamlessly bounce along his knuckles before going back to twirling it with a shrug and a casual, “It’s just a butter knife, Bin-ah. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”
Just then, Chan, Jeongin, and Seungmin come into view, Chan holding what seems to be a box that could hold an assortment of pastries or sweets or even a cake with several shopping bags slung over his wrists while their youngest members trailed in after their pack alpha carrying absolutely nothing.
“Brats,” Minho mutters, finally putting down the knife and getting to his feet to help Chan with a half-hearted glare aimed at Jeongin and Seungmin. “You two are on clean-up duty tonight,” he tells the both of them but neither pays any attention to the very real threat because they’re too busy staring at Hyunjin with wide eyes, even if Seungmin is subtler about it.
Hyunjin feels his pulse climb the longer Jeongin and Seungmin keep looking, and his mind just devolves into a buzz of ‘oh god, they hate it’ to ‘this is dumb, it’s just a haircut’ and straight to ‘if Innie and Min hate it the fans were going to absolutely loathe it’ between one second and the next.
His thought process is probably very clear to follow because much like Changbin had almost bowled him over in his excitement to shower Hyunjin with genuine and reassuring compliments, Seungmin and Jeongin quickly make their way toward him too.
“I’m fine,” Hyunjin chokes out when Seungmin hugs him, and Jeongin pets his hair with a wondrous little expression on his face. “It’s the fucking post-heat, I’m just being sensitive and dumb, I’m sorry– “
“You’re not being sensitive and dumb, it’s natural to feel a little overwhelmed or scared with something like this, especially when we do what we do, yeah?“
“That’s the third time something stupid has come out of your mouth, Hyunjinnie, maybe I’ll stuff some tissues in there to stop all the bullshit from spilling out, hm?”
Seungmin and Minho speak simultaneously, and the absurdness of how different their comforting methods are makes Hyunjin wheeze out a wet laugh that makes everyone else laugh as well. Jeongin keeps brushing the pads of his fingers over the tips of Hyunjin’s hair and then dips down between the strands to soothingly run along his scalp.
“You look adorable,” Seungmin states sounding absolutely miffed about the fact when he pulls away to hold Hyunjin at arm’s length so that he can properly look at him up close. His best friend gently cups the side of Hyunjin’s face, a solid thumb brushing under Hyunjin’s eye as he continues with, “Seriously, you’re literally the only person that could pull something like this off. I’m both mad at and very proud of you for that.”
Hyunjin feels a majority of his anxiety seep away at Seungmin’s words, feeling extremely put upon because he really was making himself an utter nuisance to his pack over a fucking haircut of all things. Seungmin moves his hand to smooth out the crease that must have appeared on Hyunjin's brow at his thoughts, smiling down at Hyunjin softly.
“Yeah, Jinnie hyung,” Jeongin says with a dimpled smile, sharp eyes creasing up with the force of it as he gently traces the shell of Hyunjin’s ear with a fingertip. “You look really, really cute and bitable.”
“Why does everyone want to eat me now?” Hyunjin asks a little hysterically when that makes the rest of his pack members laugh all over again. “Seriously, this is getting concerning.”
“It’s the cuteness aggression,” Seungmin tells him seriously, now actively stroking Hyunjin’s hair on one side while Jeongin did the same on the other. “It’s the world's oddest balancing act because our brains literally weren’t built to withstand overwhelming positive emotions without it becoming physiologically damaging so it reverts it into something negative.”
“Ergo, your new cute haircut is really bringing out everyone’s inner cannibal,” Minho happily adds before popping up behind Jeongin, making the maknae squawk in surprise when he bodily drags him off to one of the empty chairs and sits him down.
“I don’t think having an inner cannibal is a thing?” Felix wonders out loud with a frown.
“I really hope having an inner cannibal is not a thing,” Changbin shudders next to him.
“I don’t know, hyung,” Jeongin says with a theatrical sigh, eyes gleaming with mirth. “Minho hyung is an exceptionally bite-y person if you’ve noticed.”
Hyunjin slings an arm around Seungmin’s waist, leaning into his side while the beta was still standing and petting Hyunjin’s scalp, a small smile on his lips.
“You’re good at cooking, too,” Seungmin nods at Minho who gives him a smile that’s all teeth. “You could probably figure out how to cook human meat if you really wanted to.”
“It’s probably not that different from other proteins,” Minho props his elbows on the table, leaning forwards with a thoughtful look. Chan is starting to look a little pained next to him but dutifully doesn’t say anything to interrupt Minho and Seungmin because they all knew better than to interrupt them whenever they got like this.
“If we ever get in a shipwreck and survive with a bunch of other people, you’d probably be one of the last survivors because you know how to cook,” Seungmin points out like he’s given it actual thought.
“I am pretty resourceful, aren’t I?” Minho preens. Changbin is starting to look genuinely alarmed and Chan continues to look pained as Seungmin and Minho continue to debate about just how long the cooking time for a human might be and what sort of seasonings would be the best.
Felix looks on with morbid curiosity and Jeongin had pulled out his phone to scroll through it, completely disregarding the conversation that had now turned to different cannibalistic movies that Seungmin and Minho had watched and how authentic they thought they seemed.
Jisung saunters in when Minho is passionately reenacting a scene in a French movie aptly named Raw where the older of two sisters end up eating the younger sister’s boyfriend, looking all round and squishy – oh, the irony, Hyunjin thinks – dressed down in a pair of basketball shorts and a sleeveless tank.
Like always, Jisung’s eyes quickly flit around before finding Hyunjin’s and settles on him with an intensely fond look – cannibalistic film discourse raging around them be damned – and Hyunjin forgets all about his anxiety and turmoil and returns Jisung’s slow blooming smile with one of his own.
It’s only when Jisung’s eyes flick up to his hair, his face, and then back up again, brows raising as if he’d just noticed how glaringly different Hyunjin looked do all of Hyunjin’s earlier worries come crashing back to him.
Hyunjin stiffens, his smile faltering a little as he nervously watches a myriad of emotions flit across Jisung’s face, his fingers unconsciously digging into the soft material of Seungmin’s sweater while everyone else keeps talking around them.
Hyunjin recognizes shock, then surprise, then fascination and awe, and a dozen other emotions on Jisung’s face, and not once does he catch even a glimpse of anything negative. If anything, Jisung is the one that starts to look overwhelmed, standing there between the kitchen and the living room like a character from Sim’s waiting for instructions on how to proceed, blinking rapidly at Hyunjin with his heart-shaped lips parted as if he was in the middle of battling his own existentialism.
Hyunjin dimly hears Minho asking him something about– eating raw rabbit hearts? Hyunjin hopes he heard wrong but he can’t bring himself to turn to Minho when Jisung is still looking at him like he–
Oh.
Oh.
Hyunjin flushes when he realizes just how Jisung was looking at him and tries to tamp down the overwhelming relief and love he feels before Minho catches scent of it like a shark, but it’s too late because Minho’s following Hyunjin’s line of sight and a terrifying smile paints itself onto their pack omega’s face.
“Ah, Jisungie,” Minho croons, “Welcome home, jagi. Do you like Hyunjinnie’s new haircut?”
Fucking Minho, Hyunjin laments. Straight to the jugular as always.
Jisung keeps his gaze locked on Hyunjin and for the millionth time, Hyunjin is amazed at how his alpha can look like one of Disney’s happy little woodland creatures while being able to bench press almost double Hyunjin’s weight like it’s nothing.
“Beautiful,” Jisung sighs with his eyes catching Hyunjin’s meaningfully, his scent all syrupy with adoration and sincerity and just a hint of lust that has Hyunjin flushing, even as his smile refuses to go away. “It’s– Hyune, you’re beautiful.”
…
Dinner is a loud and lovely affair.
Seungmin had pressed a fond kiss to the top of Hyunjin’s head before going to sit next to Minho and Jisung had beelined to slide into the empty seat on Hyunjin’s side. The others had mercifully given them a minute, casually talking amongst themselves while Jisung had cupped Hyunjin’s face in his warm, calloused palms and kissed him soft, gentle, and deep until Hyunjin couldn’t even remember what he had been worried about in the first place.
“You look so, so pretty, Hyunjin-ah,” Jisung murmurs against his skin as he presses a sweet line of kisses from one high point of Hyunjin’s cheek over the bridge of his nose to the other, “Can’t believe you’re even real sometimes, my pretty baby, fuck.”
“Minho hyung said I look like a coconut,” Hyunjin giggles as Jisung reverently runs one hand through Hyunjin’s shorn hair, gently massaging at his scalp as he goes along.
“Never wanted to lay a coconut out on my bed and take my time with one this bad before, though,” Jisung grins making Hyunjin let out a loud bark of laughter, his head tipping back because–
“Oh my god, Sung,” Hyunjin leans forwards, curling his spine to hide his face in the crook of Jisung’s neck, fingers slipping under and up Jisung’s tank top to splay over the alpha’s deceptively slender waist. “You’re fucking ridiculous.”
“Made you laugh though, baby,” Jisung points out proudly, holding the back of Hyunjin’s bare nape with one hand while the other stroked up and down Hyunjin’s spine.
“You always make me laugh,” Hyunjin says softly, pressing his nose into Jisung’s scent gland and squeezing his waist. “Always makes me feel better. Always have.”
“And I always will, my lovely,” Jisung promises easily, and Hyunjin feels the softest of kisses pressed to the side of his temple as they continue to hold each other in their own little space while their packmates chatter around them, giving them as much space as they can while they're all seated around the same table.
When Chan starts by serving himself a single scoop of rice before immediately turning to serve Minho and Changbin on either side of him, the others take it as their cue to do the same. Jisung keeps one hand on Hyunjin’s thigh while Felix links an ankle through Hyunjin’s from the other side.
They all wait for Jeongin to take the first bite as per their tradition before they eagerly dig into their food, lavishing Minho with compliments that he soaks up with a tiny smile and downturned eyes, his scent spreading his happiness all around.
Jeongin reaches across the table to pass Felix a dish that he had been eyeing with a sweet smile and Changbin gets smacked by Seungmin for trying to sneak a piece of meat off of his bowl when the dish was right there in front of you, Changbin hyung, for fucks sake. Minho easily switches his chopsticks from one hand to the other, his free hand disappearing under the table, Chan’s arm tensing and relaxing as they undoubtedly tangle their own fingers together.
Hyunjin knows that while the initial apprehension about his haircut had been smoothed over for now, all those insecurities and worries would no doubt pop up time and time again until he – and everyone else – reconciles the image of this current Hyunjin with the previous Hyunjin.
He knows that nothing intrinsic about him had changed, that he was still the same person he was yesterday. But like Minho had said, change was new, and new sometimes meant scary. Hyunjin’s main worry now was just how badly the public would tear into him when they inevitably see him like this, but as he looks around at seven of his most favorite people in the world, feels Jisung – the absolute love of his life – holding his hand on one side with Felix’s slender ankle hooked around his own on the other side, Hyunjin thinks that maybe–
Maybe it won’t be so bad after all.
Maybe he would lose fans, receive ugly comments, and face backlash and disappointment from everyone and their grandmother; he himself would probably take some time to look at himself in the mirror and not flinch or wonder who exactly it was that was looking back at him.
Such was the nature of his job, a job that he genuinely loved and thrived at, but like all things, nothing was perfect.
He would probably always tie at least a little part of his self-worth to the way he looks and therefore is perceived by others, conscious decision to do so or not. He would always be considered and looked at as a visual and a face of the group and people would always find something to critique or praise him about his appearance, overlooking everything else. His features could overshadow his skills, and sometimes, that’s all people would look at and care enough to see.
But whenever that happens, Hyunjin thinks as he looks around at his pack, his family in all but blood, he wouldn’t have to carry all that weight by himself. Time and time again they have all proved to each other that none of them will ever walk alone, no matter how far, how long, or how difficult the journey may be.
And he trusts his pack, trusts Jisung, to be there for him just like he knows that he’ll always be there for them whenever and in whatever capacity they might need him to.
Besides, it really was just a haircut at the end of the day, wasn’t it?
…