Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jeonghan wakes in the middle of the night, pulled from his dreams by the familiar howl of a wolf. The howl comes from the forest, not far from the pack’s hanok. Jeonghan grips the blanket muzzily and listens. The night is still, and the wolf’s voice is alone. He tries to match the plaintive sound to the right pack member. Seungkwan is away for work, so it couldn’t be him. Soonyoung loves a good howl, but he has a distinctive sound, and this isn’t it. Jeonghan cracks an eyelid and glances at the window. The sky is still a deep, sunken purple. The birds are all still asleep. Myungho does like to get up early, but this early? The wolf howls again, and this time, Jeonghan recognizes the whiny timbre - Seungcheol. It could only be Seungcheol. Jeonghan sniffs the air, and even with his duller human nose, even with Seungcheol being some distance away, he can smell Seungcheol’s scent curling in on the wind. If he was up this early, had he even slept? Jeonghan resolves to chew him out as soon as he sees him. No way that would be any time soon, though. It wasn’t even dawn.

He’s comfortable and cosy, but as he comes to full wakefulness, he becomes aware of a shifting sort of tension under his skin. He feels prickles along the soft flesh under his navel, at his scent glands on his wrists, his neck, and the crease of his inner thigh. His cock is hard.

Jeonghan fusses for a few moments, determined to simply go back to sleep. But the arousal throbs dully, demanding satisfaction. He snakes a hand down his body and takes himself into a lazy fist. He chases a fantasy of teeth against his wrist, where the skin is thin and his scent glands are sensitive. He can smell himself in the room, the scent thicker than usual, furling outwards, seeking contact. Jeonghan focuses on the slow building pressure, the feeling of his dick in his hand. He chases another fantasy of his hand in someone’s hair, fingers nestled deep into their dark locks, grasping, holding them down. It’s rough, but that’s fine, because he can take it rough. He can take it hard. Jeonghan knows he could, knows he’d be so good, so good, so- Seungcheol’s howl cuts across the night again, and Jeonghan’s breath hitches, and he comes.  

Jeonghan wakes up for real at around seven am. He nips to the bathroom before anything else, washing off the dried cum and lingering thoughts about the night before. There’s a new scent in the house. It’s faint, like one of the pack might have brushed up against someone and brought the smell with them on their clothing. The smell fills Jeonghan with an almost secretive sort of happiness, and he wonders if he’s going to be lucky today. He returns to his room refreshed, pours Jjongdol a morning coffee, seats him by the miniature baby grand piano, and then makes his way down the hanok’s corridor to rummage for breakfast.

The hanok itself was a piece of luck. It’s hard to find housing big enough for a pack with thirteen members, harder still when your identity document is stamped “werewolf” and no agent will sign off on a lease. Jeonghan hyung’s luck- Soonyoung would say, because it was Jeonghan who had come across the listing. They bought the hanok directly off the previous owner, who was convinced that there were ghosts - two of them - living in the place. He and Mingyu had put up the bulk of the money for the house, being the only two with any savings to their name. Mingyu because he was good with finances like that, and Jeonghan because he had once thought he would study a degree in natural sciences. That dream was from another life.

Jeonghan had quickly realised that ghosts were the least of the hanok’s problems. The place was so ill-maintained that it would cost more to fix than it did to buy. It is a beautiful house, though. Despite the sticking doors, the broken geyser, and the left side of the house’s ancient ondol system having partially caved in, it was money well spent. Jeonghan often whiles away hours lying on his back and feeling the breeze blow right through the house, admiring the knots in the wooden ceiling beams, watching the spiders spin webs in the corners. Jeonghan sings to them sometimes - the nursery rhyme about the itsy-bitsy spider.

His favourite spot in the house is the decking out back. The deck overlooks the back of the property, where it borders on an empty plot. It’s farthest from the kitchen and the bedrooms, so it’s the coldest, but it’s where he and Seungcheol like to drink. The land behind the hanok is unkept and unowned. The low, crumbling stone wall gives way to the wildflowers and fat tufts of hardy, long grass. Beyond the expanse, about a hundred metres to the south, lies the forest. The forest, more than anything else, was why they bought the place.

The house is their house; but the forest is their territory. Together, they defend an area of about fifty square kilometres. Although defend is not really true, because no one else- no other werewolf pack- has ever challenged their boundary lines. Soonyoung says it’s because their collective territory marking smells too powerful, that any passing wolf is scared shitless by the ferocious pungency of their pee. Jihoon says it’s because their kind makes up less than a percent of the population, if you measure by the national census data, and there are just no other packs around. Soonyoung insists it's the piss though.

The pack spends a lot of their time in the forest. It’s public land according to the government. And, as Wonwoo would say matter of factly; they are also members of the public. In the city, the bylaws meant they could only shift in the parks, and even then, only when the moon was full. Here, living on the outskirts of an already rural town, they shift freely. They hunt, they run, and they moonbathe. To human ears, there’s no difference in the howl of an actual wolf and their howls, so they do that freely too. Jihoon lives in his wolf form more often than his human one. Mingyu figures that Jihoon wouldn’t bother with his human form at all if he could make music with his claws instead of his fingers. It’s rich coming from Mingyu, who sleeps in his wolf form no matter what phase the moon is in, curled up with his tail over his nose. Jeonghan has little interest in living like an actual animal. He shifts on two occasions only- when the moon is full and he’s forced to, and for Seungcheol.

Seungcheol says his wolf is beautiful. Jeonghan demurs whenever Seungcheol gets that overly-earnest gleam in his eye, the one that makes him say insane, embarrassing things. Your coat is like moonlight. You move like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Jeonghan-ah, stand here, let me look at you a bit, let me see you. Jeonghan hides his face in his collar and cringes until Seungcheol lets up.

Wonwoo is sitting at the little table in the kitchen, banchan and a bowl of rice spread out in front of him. Jeonghan grunts a greeting and goes to fetch some rice and a pair of chopsticks for himself. He pulls up a chair, grunting pitifully with exaggerated exertion. Wonwoo pointedly ignores it, instead telling him that Jun and Hansol have already left for work, and that Joshua would kill them if any of them woke him before eleven. While he eats, Jeonghan taps through his phone on the counter and calls Seungcheol.

The roar of a boat engine and the sound of the waves greets him through the speaker.

“Jeonghan-ah!” Seungcheol greets, windswept and delighted.

“Seungcheollie. Why did you wake me huh?” Jeonghan stuffs a mouthful of rice into his cheek.

“Wake you?”

“Howling all night. It's not even the first-quarter moon.”

“He was out last night?” Wonwoo asks. Jeonghan puts the call on speakerphone and Wonwoo makes a noise around his food as a greeting.

“Hi Wonwoo,” Seungcheol greets. “Are you eating, Jeonghan, Wonwoo-yah?”

Wonwoo hums and Jeonghan sighs.

“And you, did you have breakfast or did you sleep in the forest and run off to work at five?”

Guilty silence. Just as Jeonghan had thought.

“I ate,” Seungcheol hedges.

Jeonghan laughs. “Rabbit again?”

“No!” Seungcheol mumbles the rest of the sentence. “...A marmot.”

“Tasty,” Wonwoo says, laughing into his rice and radish. Jeonghan just pulls a face.

“What time are you coming back?”

“Ah, we’re gonna be out here until nine, probably. And we still have to offload and stuff. It’s fine, I’ll eat when I get home.”

Jeonghan just tsks at him.

“Sorry, I have to go. I really will eat when I get home! It won't be long.”

“Mmmhmm.” He’d been working since five, and would probably only be home at noon. As if that wasn’t a long day. Jeonghan chews loudly at him.

“Seungcheol was awake last night?” Wonwoo asks once they’ve bid Seungcheol goodbye.

Jeonghan nods absently. “You didn’t hear him? Or smell him?”

Wonwoo shakes his head.

Jeonghan gives him an incredulous look, as if to ask if he was really being honest. From the look Wonwoo gives him in return, it appears that he is. Jeonghan must have been sleeping even more shallowly than usual.

In the winter, Seungcheol spends long hours working logging jobs on the pine plantations. He always gets home late and exhausted. In summer though, he goes out on the fishing boats in the early morning. He’s home by noon, takes a nap, and when he wakes, he inevitably comes to find Jeonghan. They sit together on the deck of the hanok out back, drinking and talking. In summer, Seungcheol can make time to shoot the shit. And Jeonghan always has time on account of not having a job.

By eight, Jeonghan is showered and dressed. Wonwoo has retreated to his bedroom desk to work, and Jeonghan has seen off a lot more of his pack - Mingyu and Soonyoung to work, Chan to his dance academy. He warms some soup in the microwave and pours it into a flask. He grabs a container of rice and kimchi and boils a couple of eggs. He fishes around for leftover plastic containers to decant all the food into. He packs everything up to go, pulling a plastic shopping bag from inside the stash of all the other plastic shopping bags in the pantry cupboard. He has some errands to run in town, and while he’s there, he’ll go check in on Jun. The pier is not terribly out of his way. It’s a pleasant walk anyway for someone like him, with nothing better to do with his day. And it would be good to get out anyway. The house smells weird, and there’s a persistent and bothersome itch under his skin. Maybe he can walk it off.

Jeonghan always forgets how overwhelming the pier smells. It’s cacophonous; blood and fish and human sweat and so much salt that it scorches the inside of his nose. He has no idea how Seungcheol can work in the midst of this; Jeonghan can hardly breathe.

Jeonghan makes his way down to where the fishers box their catches. The workstations are rudimentary lean-tos with tin roofing and huge concrete slabs for tables. It’s bustling as always, with burly people in rubber boots and rubber gloves and seabirds perched on every ledge and pillar. He knows he can’t actually smell Seungcheol in the midst of this, but it feels as though he can. Seungcheol’s scent prickles at the inside of his nose, like he’d left a cloud of powdered sugar drifting in the air. Seungcheol has always smelled sweet, like a fat little fruit in the sun. Like Jeonghan could just bite right down. Jeonghan stands in the middle of the chaos of the pier, watery-eyed, and tries to pick out where Seungcheol is working. Of course, Seungcheol finds him first.

“Jeonghan..?” Jeonghan turns at the sound of his name.

 Seungcheol is striding towards him, pulling off his huge fish-bloodied gloves. Just that first look at him has all of Jeonghan’s tension unravelling. Seungcheol’s dark hair curls around the brim of his favourite orange beanie - Oho, you’re like a real fisherman, Jeonghan had teased him at least fifty times before. Seungcheol replied the same way each time: I am a real fisherman, stupid.

“I thought I smelled you coming,” Seungcheol says when he’s reached him. “What are you doing here?”  

“You could smell me? In this?” Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Your nose can’t be that good.”

Seungcheol grins.

“Maybe you just stink today.”

Jeonghan yells good-naturedly and proffers the plastic bag.

“What’s this?” Seungcheol asks. It’s a redundant question, it’s obvious that it’s food. Seungcheol takes the packet and unknots it, and his expression morphs from delighted to bashful.

“You brought me lunch.” Seungcheol looks up at him, eyes shining. “Thank you.”

The words come from low in his chest, far too sincere for the meagre little lunch in the bag. It’s immediately too much for Jeonghan to handle. So, Jeonghan smacks him.

“What were you doing up all night, huh?” Jeonghan says.

“Last night?”

“In the forest with the howling. Are you allergic to sleeping in your bed? Are you getting like Jihoonie?”

Seungcheol snickers at that, but beyond that, he just looks sheepish.

“Sorry if I woke you.”

Jeonghan waits for him to elaborate, but Seungcheol doesn’t offer anything more.Sudden irascibility lodges like a popcorn kernel between Jeonghan’s teeth - what had kept Seungcheol up last night, and why was it off limits? There were very few things that Seungcheol kept from him. Jeonghan is about to press for more when a loud voice rings out behind him, calling Seungcheol back to work.

Seungcheol gives Jeonghan another once over, sways forward, and then pulls back, consciously choosing not to pull Jeonghan in to scent him. He has that restless look about him, and all but confirms it when he looks longingly at Jeonghan's throat and snaps his gaze away. Jeonghan’s chest crumples inwards with a longing so strong that it was rivalled only by an equal depth of shame.

If there were another member of their pack here Seungcheol would scent with them. But they’re in public, and Jeonghan doesn’t do that in public. Seungcheol reaches out to tuck Jeonghan’s hair behind his ear. Jeonghan’s hair didn’t need any tucking. Seungcheol was being considerate,the tiny gesture a concession to Jeonghan. Jeonghan can’t avoid the impact. An urgent, grasping fear coils in Jeonghan’s gut. He shouldn’t care but- Seungcheol doesn’t smell like him. He doesn’t smell like Seungcheol. Just as Seungcheol gives him a parting smile, Jeonghan lurches forward for a quick hug. It’s not scenting, but Seungcheol’s nose is shoved into his neck, and Jeonghan’s chin fits over Seungcheol’s shoulder. Jeonghan ducks back out before Seungcheol can properly get his arms around him, potentially trapping Jeonghan there forever. When he pulls back Jeonghan tries not to blush at the awed, grateful expression on Seungcheol’s face.

Seungcheol’s name is called again, and he glances back over his shoulder. Jeonghan steps away, making shoo-ing motions.

“I'll see you when I get home?” Seungcheol says with a hopeful look. They live together. They will see each other at home today, just like every other day. Seungcheol doesn’t need to make it sound like something special.

 “Might only get back when you’re asleep. But I’ll be home before dinner.”

“Okay.” Seungcheol starts walking backwards but keeps his eyes on Jeonghan. “Okay. See you.”

Jeonghan salutes him with two fingers and a tight smile. He hurries back down the pier the way he came. Once he’s far enough away from the pier that he can’t be seen, Jeonghan pulls his shirt collar up to his nose and inhales. A feeling of overwhelming and undirected tenderness comes over him, and he finds all of a sudden that he has tears in his eyes. Amongst the smells of fish and salt, and Seungcheol’s familiar scent of fruit, is the smell he’d caught this morning for the first time. Jeonghan sniffs his collar again, but the trace has dissipated.

Jeonghan keeps walking, waiting for his skin to settle. He’d planned to visit Jun and to go shopping. It’s hours until he can get home. Frustrated, he doubles back until he hits the public toilet block along the wharf. He ducks inside. The toilets are unpleasant- the whole room reeks of piss and fish and the floor is in a state of perpetual wetness typical to coastal public infrastructure. Jeonghan finds the lock on the toilet stall door broken so he has to lean his back up against the door to keep it shut. He pops the button on his fly and shoves his hand into his boxers. The orgasm from the early hours of this morning should have been enough to tide him over for the whole week, but his cock is so hard it hurts, and so suddenly. It makes no sense, not this far out from his rut. Something must be fucking with his hormones; some unknown dread werewolf disease.

It doesn’t matter. He pushes away the worry, stripping his cock with ruthless frustration.The door is hard enough that Jeonghan can conjure up a familiar solid chest behind him. That broad body, shoulders wide enough to span his entirely; chest big and round and soft from good eating and hauling fishing nets. Big arms too. He would wind them around his waist to knock Jeonghan’s hands out the way and take over on his cock. Jeonghan’s whole body winds up tight, getting closer. He would work Jeonghan over with patient dedication, head nestled in the crook of Jeonghan’s neck. He would kiss him there, on the neck, with that beautiful mouth. He would scent him. He would smell of Jeonghan, and Jeonghan would smell of him.

Jeonghan tries to walk it off, putting as much time and distance as he can between himself and the public toilet. He spends the next few hours in town. He stops to get soondae at the tiny shop on the main street, window shops a while, then picks up some cooking oil and jam on his way to the malatang restaurant where Jun works. Ostensibly, he’s running errands. What he’s really doing is keeping up with his neighbours.

Jeonghan's self-appointed duty is ensuring that their pack doesn’t get stuck facing down the pointy end of people’s pitchforks. He won't let them be run out of town like so many of their ancestors. He makes sure to take food over to their neighbours, plays bingo with the aunties at the community hall, and buys from all the shopkeepers. He used to try and be friendly with the men too, the ones who drank after work at the town's singular bar. He was a curiosity, after all, and people liked to look at him. But Jeonghan doesn't do that any longer. The men thought he was too pretty to be either a man or a beast. Though they might never have said anything, Jeonghan could smell the question on them: Would this pretty wolf bite them or something worse?

In the lull before the lunch-rush, Jeonghan makes it over to the restaurant. It’s an awkward time to visit, but Jun looks happy to see him anyhow. Jun takes his break when Jeonghan arrives, wiping his hands off on his apron and leaving a bright orange-red chilli oil streak across the linen. Jeonghan tells him he’s eaten, but Jun ignores him and portions out rice for him anyway. They sit out in the alley amongst the vents and upturned crates so that they can chat.

“I saw Seungcheollie at the pier,” Jeonghan tells Jun when he asks what Jeonghan’s been up to. Jeonghan toys with his food, chasing the rice grains around in his bowl. That bothersome buzzing under his skin has quieted somewhat, but it feels like it’s returning now. Jeonghan shifts in the plastic chair, unable to get fully comfortable. Jun waits for Jeonghan to spit out what he really wants to say, which Jeonghan does, once the silence has gotten a little too heavy. “I think he wanted to scent.”

“And did you?”

Jeonghan shakes his head no.

“Did you want to?” Jun says placidly.

Jeonghan has no response to that.

“You haven’t presented,” Jeonghan says. He immediately regrets saying it.

Jun raises his eyebrow but nods.

“And you need to scent, right? It’s difficult when you don’t.”

“I do.” Jun clears his throat. “I feel like I don’t smell of anything, not even myself, and I get restless. My wolf gets restless.”

Jeonghan worries the edge of his nail with his teeth.

“But hyung,” Jun says carefully, “I don’t think that’s anything to do with not having presented. You know how Seungkwan gets, and he presented right away.” Jeonghan does know how Seungkwan gets - teary, angry, lost - the only thing that can settle him is being drenched in the scent of every member of the pack.

Jun eyes him over his food.

“Omegas need scenting. Alphas need scenting. Betas need scenting. If you don’t present you need scenting. We all need scenting, hyung.”

“Right. Yeah.” Jeonghan sighs, looking unseeingly out at the alleyway.

“Isn’t it better to present? Wouldn’t you rather it just happen?” Jeonghan says it without thinking, and too late bites his lip at his callousness. What a horrible question.

Jun twinges, but he speaks over Jeonghan’s hurried attempt at apology.

“I don’t know if Seungcheol-hyung wishes he’d present or not. Since that’s what you’re actually asking. You should ask him that.”

The rice catches in Jeonghan’s throat.

Jun puts down his bowl with a quiet nonchalance that belies the sharpness of his next words.

“Don’t use me to guilt yourself, hyung,” he says with a smile. “And if you want to scent Seungcheol hyung you should just do that. You don’t need an excuse.”

Jeonghan shrinks into his chair, shamefaced.

Jun had said once, in a joke that really wasn’t a joke, that the reason Jeonghan had a stick up his ass was because he didn’t scent enough. Seungcheol had scolded him roundly for that, lecturing Jun and everyone about boundaries and different people- different wolves- having different needs. Jeonghan had tried to play it off. Right now, Jeonghan can feel that same barb prick at him.

Jeonghan doesn’t want to fight with Jun, so he forces the burning shame and anger down with the next swallow. Jun is gracious enough not to push and Jeonghan offers a mumbled apology when he gets up to leave. Jun seems as though he’s already moved right past the squabble, sending Jeonghan off with a wave and a pack of leftovers to ferry home and store in the fridge. Jeonghan makes sure that he’s out the restaurant and a ways away, in a service street where no one can see him, before he aims a sharp kick at a plastic dustbin. It gives a wholly unsatisfying dull thump, so Jeonghan changes to a fist and whacks the lid until it cracks. So much for today feeling lucky. His hand is a bright stinging red after he’s done, but it gets the anger out.

It would be faster to cut through the forest on his way home, but Jeonghan takes the road. He’s still feeling all wrong under his skin; bothered and listless. Not even the pretty yellow yuzu trees that line the road cheer him up. He walks all the way home with his arms crossed tight, hands under his armpits.

Jeonghan has been a werewolf longer than most of the pack. Jeonghan met Taewoo in highschool, and it was Taewoo who had bitten him just after their graduation. It had been a mistake - that was what Taewoo had said, days after. Jeonghan had just been standing too close, and he had trouble controlling himself that close to the full moon, and he didn't know what came over him. And that he was sorry, sorry, sorry, and so please Jeonghan, please don't press charges.

The bite had been an ugly wound; Jeonghan remembers that. He had watched himself in a mirror, hands around his own throat, trying to stem the hot blood spilling over his fingers. The thought that he would die had struck him like the pound of a drum. He’d been certain that his final moments would be under the indifferent buzz of white bathroom fluorescence. He’d been startled by the sudden emptiness, the lack of profundity. He’d thought death would feel like something bigger. And then thought right after that he should have expected the banality. But he had not died then. The bite had closed, leaving hideous bruising that reached all the way down his chest. He’d hid it under scarves and high collars and hoped, delusionally, that nothing would come of it. The bruising had healed from purple to yellow inhumanly fast, and the next full moon, he had transformed for the first time. Jeonghan had never stopped wondering if it would have made a difference if he had gone to the hospital right after. Maybe the doctors could have done something. There were attempts, these days, to cure them- experimental treatments, drugs, and therapies - although none to his knowledge had ever worked. But maybe they could have stopped it. Maybe he'd done this to himself.

He’d hurt the pack’s feelings, if he said any of this out loud. What about us, hyung? He could hear the exact tender quaver of Seungkwan’s voice, he could see the wounded glance from Jun, the flat line of Myungho’s mouth. He knew they all felt lonely, too. He was not the only one who had to leave his family behind. He was not the only one to fantasise. He’d once made the mistake of wondering out loud what life would have been like if he had never been bitten. Chan hated this train of thought, as did Mingyu.

“If you hadn't been bitten, then you wouldn't be part of our pack.” Chan has said to him before, eyes wide, talking with his hands, laying it out like Jeonghan couldn’t see the obvious connection. Mingyu had told him it was pointless to speculate over hypotheticals. They were bitten and that was the reality. It was no use to wonder, it was no use to worry over it now. You carried on and did the best you can. Even Joshua, who understood him on most things, did not understand him on this.

“Instead of brooding,” Joshua had said, not even looking up from his beadwork, “You should get a hobby.”

“What, like you?” Jeonghan had spat, nudging meanly at the beadbox with its dozens of rattling compartments. Joshua had pursed his lips and shifted the box out of reach of Jeonghan’s foot.

“Yes, like me.”

Jeonghan had just scoffed.

“Well I’m not like you.” Jeonghan had plucked at the beads, picking them up and throwing them back into their piles over and over again. “I can’t just make bracelets to become ‘one with my wolf’, or whatever.”

“Literally doesn’t have to be beads.” Joshua had failed to thread the fishing gut through the bead and dropped his work to his lap. He’d been frustrated with it, and with Jeonghan. “Anything. Just try something.” You haven’t even tried.”  

Jeonghan had stormed off then, an exasperated Joshua calling after him.

Joshua had not had an easy time of it either when he had become a werewolf. His mother lives all the way over the ocean on a different continent, only able to come out to visit when they can scrape together the money for her plane tickets. Joshua is stuck here, trapped by laws restricting their travel. If there is anyone who ought to be angry, who ought to wish for a different life, it should be Joshua. It had felt like a betrayal from someone Jeonghan had thought to be a comrade in arms. He let Joshua back in, eventually. He isn’t holding a real grudge anymore. But it was a tally mark, it had been made and could not be unmade.

Seokmin gets him, though. Seokmin is sometimes the only one in the world that gets him. Sometimes he and Seokmin watch dramas together, pointing at the characters and saying: I could have been one of those- a private detective, a kindergarten teacher, an idol.

Seungcheol, it seemed, was born to be a werewolf. Seungcheol took to his new life with a thousand times the gumption that Jeonghan had. He'd been the one to pull the pack together. He'd been the one to seek out the elders, to learn from them. He was the one that they had chosen as their pack leader, a formal title in as much as it was a role he had risen into through his own actions. Jeonghan had just tagged along for the ride, another stone in Seungcheol's heavy backpack.

Jeonghan tries to do what he can as the second-eldest wolf and as the eldest alpha. All this to say that Jeonghan should be better at this. But he isn't. Jeonghan avoids scenting, avoids shifting. He tries to make it up to the pack with frequent cuddling, scent glands on his wrists strategically placed out of reach. It's too animal, too base. Another thought that would hurt his pack's feelings if he voiced it. There were moments, though, when he found himself forgetting. When he was with Seungcheol, it all came easier.

When Jeonghan gets back, Seungcheol is indeed sleeping. Jeonghan isn’t sure who else is home, besides Jihoon and Wonwoo, who are always home, and Myungho, who greets him in the hall. Jeonghan deposits the food and shopping bags and goes to collapse on the couch for a nap. Again, he can’t quite get comfortable. His attention drifts to Seungcheol’s scent curling from under his door frame. Seungcheol had tracked the fishy smell of the pier home with him, as usual. Jeonghan swallows, wondering if that arresting smell from the pier earlier had been tracked in with him too, and if he would get to smell it again. He breathes in deeper, hoping to catch it, and is disproportionately disappointed when he can’t smell anything. Jeonghan must be getting sick. He’s never this perturbed by the scents, least of all some stranger’s scent. And he was irritable- a sure sign of illness approaching. Maybe a flu was why he couldn’t nap and his skin felt so ill-fitting.

Jeonghan throws the couch-blanket off and heads down the corridor. Seungcheol had pulled the sliding door almost all the way closed, but there’s a little gap, just enough for the width of Jeonghan’s fingers to poke through and edge it further open.  Seungcheol’s blackout curtains are pulled closed to keep the room dark. Seungcheol looks like a misshapen lump from this angle. His duvet is pulled right up and his toes tucked right in. Jeonghan has nothing to be worried about and no good reason to be looking in on him either.

“Missing hyung? Cute.” Jeonghan jumps, slapping the door jamb.

There’s a tense moment where he and Soonyoung- it had been Soonyoung who had snuck up on him- hold still, hoping that they haven’t woken Seungcheol. When he doesn’t stir, Jeonghan turns to glare at him.

“Were you watching him sleep?” Soonyoung asks in the loudest stage-whisper Jeonghan has ever heard.

Jeonghan doesn’t deign to reply to that. He struts away from Seungcheol’s room indignantly. Soonyoung has that look on his face -the one that seems to strip you of all pretence - and Jeonghan does not like being on the receiving end of it.

He flops down on the couch and turns his back to Soonyoung, acting as though he were going to sleep.

“Hyung, are you grumpy today?” Soonyoung asks, hovering.

“No,” Jeonghan says distantly, carefully tucking any other emotion securely away from his voice. He takes a deep breath. This interaction could go either way, depending on how he reacted. He already squabbled with Jun earlier, and Jeonghan didn’t want a repeat. So he flops around until he faces Soonyoung and holds his arms open.

“Come cuddle,” he instructs. Soonyoung whoops delightedly, all consternation clearing from his brow. He dives on top of Jeonghan, wrapping his arms around his middle. Jeonghan oofs at the impact, but lets Soonyoung nuzzle into his stomach.

A cuddle is nice. Jeonghan relaxes into the couch cushions and softly pets at Soonyoung’s back as he recounts his day for Jeonghan.

Jeonghan does fall asleep on the couch after that. He’s roused by a hand in his hair, gently stroking the strands back from his forehead.

“Hey.” Seungcheol hovers over him. His scent wafts over Jeonghan, and for a moment Jeonghan can’t think at all.

Jeonghan mumbles in response. Seungcheol is still petting him.

“I’m out back. Do you still wanna sleep, or shall I get a beer for you?”

Jeonghan shakes his head, and then nods. He swallows around the stale taste of his mouth.

“Whattimeisit?”

“Just after five.” So he’s slept a little over an hour.

“Mmkay. Let’s go.” Jeonghan blinks, and then finds it hard to open his eyes again. Seungcheol’s hand in his hair is not helping the situation at all.

“Are you not gonna get up?”

“No, I wanna drink,” Jeonghan says groggily. Seungcheol’s pulse beats in his wrist, centimetres away from Jeonghan’s mouth. He sits upright quickly, dislodging Seungcheol’s hand and the thoughts of putting his mouth to that wrist.  “Jus’ pick me up and put me there.”

“Hmm. Okay.” Seungcheol laughs under his breath. The next moment, there’s an arm under his knees and another around his back. Jeonghan is hoisted into Seungcheol’s arms and lifted off the couch. He squawks, suddenly wide awake, and nearly topples them with his sudden flailing. Seungcheol lets him drop his legs and steadies him as he stands.

“Show off” Jeonghan scowls at Seungcheol laughing.

“Go and sit,” Seungcheol just tells him, still laughing. “I’ll bring the beers.”

Jeonghan stomps off down the hallway.

Jeonghan makes himself comfortable on the deck, leaning back on his hands to watch the sky. The treeline is an expanse of dark wet green, backlit with gold. The sun is taking its time to set. Jeonghan is glad the day is ending, in all honesty. This buzzing under his skin hasn’t let up at all. He’s done with being awake. He wants to get an early night and sleep off all of this weirdness.

Seungcheol appears with beer and a packet of chips. He sits with a heavy grunt and rolls the edge of the chip packet down to make a little bowl shape. Jeonghan watches him with amusement and takes a few chips when offered. Their afternoons often look like this. Jeonghan and Seungcheol sitting and drinking and talking on the deck of the pack’s hanok. Jeonghan feels lighter already.

Seungcheol tells him about his day, about how much they caught and how much they sold. He pulls out his phone to show a picture of the highlight of the day- a massive lobster in the traps - this big! It’s an impressive lobster, Jeonghan has to admit. The lobster’s colouring was split perfectly down the middle- one half speckled orange and one half  speckled blue- perfectly bilaterally intersex. It was carrying eggs on its tail, which meant they should release it back to the breeding pool, so Seungcheol had notched it and thrown it back into the ocean. Jeonghan studies the image for a moment before bringing his fingers up to his face, wiggling them around to mimic the lobster’s long antennae. It’s cute, is what Jeonghan tells him when Seungcheol has stopped laughing. Because it really is cute. Seungcheol is even more enthusiastic - he sets the picture as his phone’s lockscreen.

Seungcheol is an excellent fisherman even if the women on the boats do baby him endlessly. The special treatment is partly because he’s their sons’ age, but also because he offers to go and kill their husbands if they cheat or misbehave. Jeonghan was hopping mad the first time Seungcheol had told him he’d said that. It was counter to everything Jeonghan was trying to build with the community. They would see Seungcheol as a threat. If one of the men in the town was killed by an animal, they’d all think of Seungcheol first. Seungcheol had been adamant that the friendships he had with his colleagues were genuine and that he wasn’t afraid of them.

“Besides, Jeonghannie,” Seungcheol had said thoughtfully, “If anyone tries to hurt my pack-” Seungcheol paused to shoot him a vicious, glittering grin “-then I’ll just kill them.”

Jeonghan had been mollified. It was the kind of thing that only Seungcheol could say, the kind of statement that he had, in fact, backed up with action. Jeonghan believed him. Jeonghan trusted him.

The conversation naturally turns to the pack, then. How Chan was doing at the dance academy (Jeonghan tells Seungcheol with relish that apparently the nasty sunbae giving Chan trouble had been getting his comeuppance), how Mingyu was holding up with his new job at the mountainside tourism information booth (Mingyu had been shocked at how many old ladies were interested in hiking these days, completely unaware of how he looked in a polo shirt), and of course, if Seungkwan was getting any sleep at all between his schedules (Not nearly enough).

“It’s crazy, don’t you think?” Jeonghan says into his beer.  “Seungkwannie is actually making it happen.” Seungcheol hums in agreement. How Seungkwan has held onto his flashy city job for as long as he has, Jeonghan has no idea. It’s hard to build an actual career in entertainment when you can only travel at certain times of the month, when you have to turn down jobs because the moon will be full that night, and when you have to endure the mawkish, invasive questioning rolled out on every variety show -  When were you bitten? Did it hurt? Was there a lot of blood? What’s it like, being a monster?

“Is he still drinking those stupid potions?” Seungcheol says frowning, brow dark and stormy.

“Cheol-ah. He wants this. Let him drink his potions.”

Seungkwan lives on the potions that Minghao cooks up for him, the ones that stave off the full-moon shift for as long as possible, and the ones that hurtle him through the transformation. Seunkwan receives each batch with a fresh scolding from his hyungs.

These aren’t good for you, Seungkwan-ah. They’re meant for emergencies only.

This is an emergency, Seungkwan insists every time.

It has consequences, of course. Seungkwan’s shifts are always painful, and he returns to his human body wrung out like a rag, vital weight dropping off his already thin frame and leaving his cheeks hollow. Seungkwan insists that he’s fine and handling it, but they all know that no amount of ginseng or royal jelly can suffice when what he really needs is time under the moon magic. And of course, this over and above the nights where Seungkwan comes home in tears- dropped from another show, dropped from another network, dropped by another producer. Someone with your condition is too much of a risk for our staff. It’s hard for us, I hope you can understand. Jeonghan doesn’t think he could endure it.

“I don’t like it.” Seungcheol crosses his arms.

“As if I like it any more than you.” Jeonghan sighs. There is no denying that Seungkwan brings the most money into the pack household, and the second-most consistently, after Wonwoo’s job. As much as Seungcheol works, none of it pays enough. Seokmin is doing really well at the theatre, but he makes pennies, and the work is unpredictable. Jihoon is still producing freelance, but there have been rumblings about something more permanent opening up on Hybe’s production staff. Things would be better now with Mingyu at the tourism office.

Seungcheol rubs tiredly over the bridge of his nose, presses his fingers into his eye sockets.

“If I could pick up another contract at the plantation maybe he-”

Jeonghan gives Seungcheol a swift karate-chop to the back of his neck.

“If you did that you’d just be overworked and Seungkwannie would still be doing what he’s doing.” That, both of them knew was the truth.

“And if you work too much, when will you sit and drink with me?” Jeonghan jokes.

Seungcheol turns to look at him somberly, and Jeonghan wants to shrink back from the sudden attention. He’s said too much.

“I’d make time,” Seungcheol says quietly. Jeonghan’s chest burns.

Jeonghan drinks his beer down to the dregs, scooting closer and closer to Seungcheol on the deck. His skin is still buzzing, but he feels better for the proximity. With Seungcheol beside him he feels anchored in his body. His heart is beating too fast, but he’s not sure if that’s a symptom of the day’s inexplicable malaise or if it’s the thumping he usually tries to ignore whenever he sits close to Seungcheol.

Seungcheol’s scent is getting up his nose, like earlier when he had arrived home. Jeonghan is possessed by the idea that he might be allergic to something in Seungcheol’s scent all of a sudden. Not that that made any sense; they all did their laundry in the same machine. Maybe Seungcheol had walked by a tree with pollen or a food stall selling something weird. He pulls the hood of Seungcheol’s hoodie back so he can sniff the nape of Seungcheol’s neck. The front of the collar yanks around Seungcheol’s throat, and he chokes.

“What’s with you?” Seungcheol splutters, trying to whack at Jeonghan behind him.

“You haven’t showered,” Jeonghan says. That’s not true, Jeonghan can smell that Seungcheol has showered- the soap scent is fresh, even though the ocean salt still hangs around him. Beneath that is his usual sweet smell, but it’s off, it's odd.

It couldn’t be one of his coworkers, Jeonghan thinks as he noses in and sniffs again. It smells like it’s coming from Seungcheol himself.

“What are you talking about?” Seungcheol whines.

Jeonghan picks up Seungcheol’s wrists and sniffs them. Seungcheol blinks at him. He doesn’t put up any protest though. He allows Jeonghan to shove his sleeves up to his elbows and sniff all along his forearms. He only harrumphs when Jeonghan lifts his arm right up to sniff his armpits too. Seungcheol is content to give over any part of his body to Jeonghan’s whims. He should be more careful. He shouldn’t trust Jeonghan like he does.

“Smell weird.”

“I do not.”

“Did you eat something weird?” Maybe Seungcheol had eaten something that Jeonghan is allergic to, and it’s leaching through his scent and irritating Jeonghan’s nose.

“I ate chips,” Seungcheol defends. “And the food you gave me.”

“Did you touch someone?”

“What?”

“Are you lying?” Jeonghan goes back to sniffing at Seungcheol’s neck, sniffing past his ears on the one side and around to the other. Seungcheol giggles like it’s ticklish.

“No. Ah- Jeonghan!” Seungcheol yelps when Jeonghan pulls at his collar again, intent on getting closer to the scent gland on his neck. It’s frustratingly hidden by the high collar of the hoodie. It’s right then that Jeonghan realises that Seungcheol is holding himself still underneath him. Jeonghan can feel the tension strung through Seungcheol’s body, in his shoulders and sides. Jeonghan is gripping him quite tightly, hands dug harshly into Seungcheol’s biceps. Seungcheol’s scent gland is right there, exposed to Jeonghan like it almost never is. Jeonghan is tense, too, pressed up against Seungcheol, heart thumping, a sweet tugging in his pelvis.

It’s suddenly awkward. So awkward. Seungcheol isn’t looking at him, but when Jeonghan peeps at him, he can see the flush burning on his cheeks, all down his neck. Jeonghan can feel the heat from his own face radiating.

“Han-ah,” Seungcheol starts. And oh how Jeonghan knows he’s going to hate whatever comes out of Seungcheol’s mouth next. He has that terrible, terrible earnestness in his voice.

“Do you want to scent?”

Jeonghan scrambles backwards from Seungcheol as though his hands have suddenly caught fire. He launches himself back, putting a good metre between them.

“Ah- forget I said anything,” Seungcheol tries to salvage the situation. “Sorry.”  

Jeonghan looks at his feet, away from Seungcheol’s big, sad eyes.

“Why are you apologising?” Jeonghan shoots back at him. It was too easy to be a beast, with Seungcheol. He forgot that he wasn’t supposed to enjoy it.

Seungcheol sighs, and looks back out at the forest. Jeonghan squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the awkwardness to settle. When he looks back at Seungcheol, he only looks thoughtful.  Jeonghan wills himself to stop feeling like he’s just kicked a puppy.

The sunset catches on the curling ends of Seungcheol’s hair, which is getting longer now; the longest Seungcheol has ever had it, to Jeonghan’s memory. It’s not just his hair lit up by the sun. It’s smeared over his handsome brow, making big sunshiney triangles in the creases of his jacket, wrapping warm over the white socks on his feet, where he’s swinging them back and forth cutely. It catches on his long eyelashes, tipping them in gold. He’s a golden man dressed in golden light.Jeonghan knows that if he looked, if he dug, he’d find something big and  important. He feels it whenever he and Seungcheol are together. The shame is just thick enough that it stays out of reach.

Seungcheol clears his throat. Jeonghan braces, thinking Seungcheol might try and revive their conversation. Rather than that, Seungcheol throws him a challenging, cocky grin.

“You wanna go for a run?”

Oh! Jeonghan’s heart leaps. A run.

That was usually how their afternoons went: drinks and talking until one of them suggested a run in the forest. What they meant by run was really a wild game of tag. The game would begin when they raced for the treeline, stripping their clothes- pants and shirts and boxers dotting a trail across the field. When the shadows hid them well enough, they’d shift. The first one onto their paws would run first, and the loser chased. When one of them caught the other, then they would wrestle; biting and clawing harder than they could in human form. The game ended when someone rolled over on their back, showing their belly in submission.

Jeonghan throws a testing look at Seungcheol. Seungcheol grins. His eyes flash. Jeonghan’s stomach swoops. And then they take off, scrambling from the deck and leaping over the stone wall in a mad dash toward the treeline.

Jeonghan rips his hoodie and tshirt off all together, then shucks his pants and socks. The long grass comes up to his chest, the wheaten smell washing over him as he runs. The brush pricks at his feet and whips at his calves. Seungcheol has a few metres on him, the soles of his bare feet flashing and wide shoulders flexing. Jeonghan stares after him, runs faster. The gold-green fields give way to blue-green forest, and the shadows of the trees stretch out like fingers to catch them and haul them inwards.

He doesn’t see when Seungcheol shifts, but he hears the bracken crunch, hears the shock of birds flying up from the treeline. Then he hears the heavier footfalls, Seungcheol now running on all fours.He feels even more eager to win against Seungcheol than usual. Jeonghan needs to catch up. Jeonghan needs to catch him, get him to roll over and show Jeonghan his soft pink belly.

Jeonghan shifts. It’s agony. His collarbone breaks first. Next, his spine - a series of sharp cracks and snaps following downward from his vertebrae. In the span of seconds, each of his two hundred and six bones break and remake themselves. His ligaments pull and pull, the moon magic stretching them where they would have otherwise snapped. His muscle tissue flakes apart into threads that reach for each other and rebind. Jeonghan doesn’t break his stride- he’s learned to keep moving through the pain.

It’s been over a decade since he was bitten, but it still hurts. It always hurts. The pain is supposed to lessen, at least, that’s what the rest of the pack say. For Jeonghan, it never has. It hurts just as badly as the first night, coming to pieces alone and terrified. Like many werewolves, Jeonghan had experienced his first shift and his presentation all in one go; the night of his first full moon. Not that being an alpha had meant anything to him beyond being another indignity visited upon him by the bite.

Seungcheol was one of the few who had only shifted and not presented when he had been bitten. He always spoke more of the shock of that first shift, saying that the pain had been forgettable and brief. Since then, the transformations had only gotten easier, smoother, and more painless. In his worst moments, Jeonghan had wished the pain of his transformations on Seungcheol, if only to bridge the chasm between their understanding. If Seungcheol knew what it was like for Jeonghan, then he’d understand. Jeonghan had hated himself for even thinking that. He shouldn’t wish this pain on anyone, not even for a respite from the terrible loneliness.

Jeonghan’s vision swims. His balance pitches forward, and when he catches himself it’s on his forelegs, grown longer and larger, his fingers turned to claws. When Jeonghan blinks, he can no longer see colour. His vision when shifted, just like any canine’s, is shades of grey.

Seungcheol is fast tonight, really fast. No matter, because Jeonghan is faster. Jeonghan digs his claws into the mulchy earth and kicks off. Strength surges through his hind legs as he pushes to catch up with Seungcheol. His heart lifts with each leap. He forgets all about the pain of the shift and city jobs and the other lives he could have lived. None of that could ever compare to this. Human happiness is a pale shadow to animal joy. He is his body, he is his wolf.

Jeonghan darts through the trees, leaping over fallen trunks on instinct, paws naturally finding purchase in the dense vegetation. Everything is simpler in his wolf form. His thoughts don’t ever need to be deciphered, and his emotions arrive in his body with the uncomplicated assuredness of truth. Run, play, shit, howl, eat, sleep. Chase, bite, lick. Home. Pack. Seungcheol. Seungcheol. Seungcheol.

A good thing about shifting - an incredible thing, Jeonghan could concede- is his sense of smell. The air is full to bursting. Downwind from the hanok, he can smell each of the people who have passed through the forest pathway to and from town. He can smell the stew from their neighbour’s kitchen, a kilometre west. There’s a flock of watchful crows in the trees, nervous rabbits to his left, a herd of deer deeper within the forest with a new fawn. Even this distance from the hanok, he can smell the pack- each of them, and where they are. Soonyoung and Myungho are in the room they share. Hansol smells like he went swimming today.

The wind changes, blowing in from Seungcheol’s direction. Scent hits Jeonghan all at once. He comes to a dead stop, blinking at nothing, breathing in and in and in. There’s the familiar smell of Seungcheol - fat, ripe, fruit- but there’s also the new odour. It’s no longer a faint whiff he can barely chase.The forest explodes with it. It stings, first in his nose, then deep inside his heart. All of a sudden he feels completely overwhelmed. He is being kissed, being held. He is coming home to food on the table, he is shrugging off a backpack that had been so heavy it had cut into his shoulder, he is weightless in the middle of a laugh. It’s an illogical smell, an impossible smell.

The smell is everywhere, oily in the way it sticks to his whiskers and cheeks. No matter how deeply Jeonghan breathes he can’t take in enough. Jeonghan stands with his mouth open, catching as much of it on his tongue as he can, dripping drool down his fangs and over his lips. It’s not that the smell makes him hungry, yet Jeonghan feels starved all the same. His body shivers all over, and instinctually, he raises his muzzle to the sky and howls.

Seungcheol howls back, closer than Jeonghan expected. Is Seungcheol smelling this too? Jeonghan races towards him. Both Seungcheol’s scent and the new smell intensify as Jeonghan spies a huge muku tree. The trunk is nearly as wide as he is long. Jeonghan rounds the side and barrels into Seungcheol, who has come to a stop encircled by the tree’s roots. The roots are tangled high enough that they form a twisting wall of wood and packed soil. In the centre is a hollow deep enough to curl up in, sheltered and closed. A green fuzz of moss blankets the ground. The moon has found peep-holes through the canopy, winking shimmery moonlight through the leaves. The scent is strongest here, leaving no doubt that this is where it’s emanating from. Jeonghan feels a pang of need, worse than hunger, worse than thirst. Seungcheol, hunched over in the very centre, turns to face him. When their eyes meet, Jeonghan realises that the scent permeating the air, all of it, the familiar and the new, pours from Seungcheol.

Seungcheol in wolf form is huge, both wider and taller than Jeonghan. His coat is tawny, his eyes uncompromising. He is, Jeonghan will gladly remind him, magnificent, worthy of the moniker of beast. A few times, mostly out of necessity, Seungcheol has let Jeonghan ride astride him. Whenever Jeonghan is reminded of it, like now, he is beset by the fantasy of stripping all of his clothes off and lying naked atop Seungcheol’s back to feel Seungcheol’s warm fur and powerful body along every centimetre of his skin.

Seungcheol, shaky, all but collapses to the ground. He curls into himself, a low whine in his throat. Jeonghan is beside him the next instant, nudging at Seungcheol’s side, snuffling up his belly and digging his wet nose into Seungcheol’s ruff. That scent- Seungcheol’s scent- beats through the blood in his veins. This is what Seungcheol really smells like. Jeonghan feels as though all this time he’s only been smelling half of him, a fraction of everything he is.

Jeonghan suffocates himself with the smell of him, and his faculties grow foggy. The scent has grown acrid and sick; Seungcheol is in pain. Jeonghan has the wherewithal to draw back as Seungcheol writhes against the moss and fallen leaves.

Jeonghan paces helplessly as Seungcheol whimpers and pushes his shoulders into the earth, unable to escape an invisible and excruciating pain. His hind legs kick soil everywhere, showering them both with clumps of dirt. The air ripples with moon magic. Seungcheol’s fur recedes and his limbs draw back into human arms and legs. He is crying, yelping, the sound half-wolf and half brokenly human. He’s not shifting willingly, it doesn’t seem. The moon magic is forcing his shift back. Seungcheol rips at the soil with his hands, braced on all fours, trembling all over. Jeonghan licks at Seungcheol’s salty tears, pressing his face hard into Seungcheol’s. What else is there that he can do? Seungcheol is insensate, and Jeonghan can’t tell if he even registers Jeonghan’s presence. Seungcheol’s body doesn’t stop transforming. His skin lifts and contorts as the moon magic reacts rapidly. Jeonghan doesn’t know how it all works and has never tried to know. But when Jeonghan smells the first sharp notes of blood, then he knows without doubt. What a fool he has been, then and now. A fool who missed the obvious: Seungcheol is presenting.

The moon is under Jeonghan’s skin as well. Jeonghan circles around Seungcheol until he can see between his legs. He nudges his muzzle softly against Seungcheol’s thighs, runs his nose up and down the soft skin, snuffling, lapping at him, comforting on instinct. Sure enough, the tender skin between Seungcheol’s legs has torn open. There’s blood everywhere. It coats his thighs, streaking messily down his legs. Jeonghan watches as the skin between Seungcheol’s legs folds back against itself, a new organ being carved out right before his eyes. The moon is blessing Seungcheol, a new omega, with a cunt.

Seungcheol’s crying comes to an abrupt stop, his panting rising loud over the sudden quiet.

“Jeonghan.” Seungcheol’s voice is ruined, but he speaks with a decisiveness that has Jeonghan rooted to the spot.

“Alpha.”  Not once, in all of their years as packmates, has Seungcheol ever called him that. Jeonghan has been obvious in his distaste for yet more wolf bullshit; and Seungcheol has been obliging him. But this is different; this is Seungcheol’s wolf speaking. With shaking arms, Seungcheol drops from his hands to his elbows. He braces forwards, spreads his knees, and offers himself, slick and still bleeding, to Jeonghan.

Jeonghan follows the will of the moon, the will of his own desire. He rushes to cover Seungcheol’s body with his own. Jeonghan’s huge body drapes over Seungcheol, and his paws, one on either side of Seungcheol’s elbows, dwarf him. His heavy barrel chest bears Seungcheol even lower. His belly is seared by the heat of Seungcheol’s back, and he slides closer, until the fat of Seungcheol’s ass is pressing up against his loins, his sheath. Seungcheol is enfolded beneath his monstrous weight and size. Amidst Seungcheol’s heady scent, Jeonghan can smell his own reek. He stinks of need. With every beat of his heart his cock throbs thicker, unsheathing itself.

The first glancing of his red cock against Seungcheol’s skin is like a knife in his groin. Jeonghan is so sensitive that it only hurts, hips jerking backwards to escape the raw sensation. Seungcheol growls, furious at even that slight distance between their bodies, and he swings an ungainly arm backwards to clutch at Jeonghan’s neck. Seungcheol gets his fingers into Jeonghan’s fur and wrenches him closer.

“Alpha,” Seungcheol finds his voice again, cheek pressed flat to the wet dirt, “please.” Jeonghan’s hips pump forward, pulled by the piteous, angry timbre of Seungcheol’s voice. His cock ruts bluntly against Seungcheol’s folds, slipping through the mess. Seungcheol’s voice cracks on a wail, his scent growing thicker and thicker with desire.

Jeonghan’s next thrust pushes his cock through the wetness of Seungcheol’s cunt and along the underside of Seungcheol’s hard cock- or is it a clit now? It’s big for a clit, nestled between his new fat pussy lips, right above his new hole.

“-side, inside, inside, inside,” Seungcheol begs. Jeonghan is just as desperate. He ruts and ruts, useless without hands to guide, trying and failing to get his cock to catch on Seungcheol’s rim and slide home. And Seungcheol, his Seungcheol, is crying now, reaching back to help but unable to keep his balance at the same time. Yes. His wolf crows. Yes yes yes. Both of them are scrabbling and struggling, but nothing has ever felt as right as this. The tapered head of his cock finally finds purchase in Seungcheol’s opening. It’s bliss, even just the very tip notched in Seungcheol’s hole. He’s so hot here, burning indescribably around Jeonghan. Seungcheol is so wet too, it doesn’t matter that Jeonghan’s wolf cock is too big for a human pussy. He has to fuck him. Seungcheol needs him inside. He’ll make it fit. Jeonghan pushes against the resistance.

A wolf slams into Jeonghan with his full body weight, knocking him off Seungcheol. The impact hurls him sideways into the dirt. Jeonghan snarls, rolling to his feet with his teeth bared. It’s an omega- Mingyu- growling and snapping and staring him down with hackles raised.

More wolves- more of his pack- crash through the trees, forming a wall in front of Seungcheol, blocking Jeonghan off from him. Mingyu is the closest to Jeonghan, and behind him Jeonghan sees Myungho, Soonyoung, and Jihoon. From the tense stand-off, he watches as Myungho shifts into his human form, and drops down to examine Seungcheol, expression torn with worry.

Reality slams into Jeonghan harder than Mingyu’s massive body. Oh god. This was a heat. This is Seungcheol’s first heat. Seungcheol is presenting as an omega. He’d fuck a tree stump right now. And moreover, what the fuck is wrong with Jeonghan? Mingyu is still glaring flintily at him. Jeonghan stumbles backwards, daring a glance at Seungcheol. He looks completely out of it. Dazed and feverish and limbs shaking where he’s pulling himself up to sit on the forest floor. Oh god. What has he done? What has he done? Jeonghan takes a step back, and then another, until he bumps into the tree roots. Then, he turns tail and runs.

Jeonghan runs until his paws bleed. He keeps running, not giving his werewolf’s fast-healing time to stitch the cuts closed. He takes guilty relief in the stinging punishment. He ignores the howls that rise up behind him, then fall quiet before rising up  again- calling for him. Jeonghan runs to his limits, forest smearing past him in black and grey. He runs until the land under his paws runs out.

Jeonghan finds sleep under the overhang of a rock shelf. He wakes just after dawn, smelling the approach of the pack, probably out looking for him. He takes off again to avoid them, cutting through denser and denser forest. He crosses the river before the sun hits its noon

zenith, and leaves the pack’s territory boundaries. He’s surprised at how unmoored he feels. There should be no real difference- he’s a supernatural predator, with no natural threats, but he feels exposed and anxious.  

It seemed as though Seungcheol’s presentation was just as harrowing as Jeonghan’s first full shift. It’s humiliating to realise all the obvious warning signs he missed.Jeonghan can’t quite believe that he hadn’t understood the new smell was Seungcheol’s changing scent. No wonder he felt so weird today.

Jeonghan’s paws heal closed against his wishes. It’s a good thing, Jeonghan supposes. He has a lot of travelling ahead of him, although he has no picture of where he could go. Hunger forces him to hunt, and he stalks a rabbit for an hour or so. He gives up when the tiny creature sits up on its haunches and begins to groom its whiskers, unable to stomach the thought of killing it. Instead, he doubles back to the river, needing to drink and thinking to hunt for fish instead. He eats then, two meagre carp that barely touch sides, and the afternoon heat wipes him out enough to convince him to sleep again. He finds a proper cave this time, not too far from the river, although he stays on the far side of the bank, outside the pack’s territory. He wakes again at dusk to the smell of his pack, but by the sound of it, they’re on human feet this time. It doesn’t take long to shake them off again.

His mindless path north takes him to the waterfall. The thundering water is just as loud in the darkness as it is in the daylight. But it’s different at night. Everything is a light-sucking black, only the water throwing off sharp white refraction. To his right, the river carries on and on, eventually splitting off into the estuaries and wetlands until it meets the sea. Jeonghan has no plan, no idea of what he is doing right now or what he is going to do next, and so he stops to sit and take stock of everything he has just destroyed.

While Seungcheol had felt relieved when he’d been bitten, Jeonghan had felt resigned. After the first year of agonising full moons, Jeonghan had come to terms with his fate. Naturally, he’d be denied the luxury of a normal human life. Instead of neighbourhood basketball club practice or a new wool coat as his contentments, he had been given the crunch of freshly hunted rabbit beneath his jaw, the rising smell of the marshes, and the moon. And Seungcheol. He had been given Seungcheol.

A werewolf, rangy with a coat as dark as wet wood materialises from the shadows. It’s Hansol. Hansol shifts, an unfussy uncurling of fur to flesh. How cruel and how kind of the pack to send Hansol. Hansollie was gentle, honest and straightforward. He was an alpha as well- and why would they send one of their omegas or betas, after what Jeonghan had done? Jeonghan won’t run.It is probably better for Seungcheol and the pack to get it over with sooner rather than later.

Hansol doesn’t make it weird, he just sits down on the rock next to Jeonghan with a quiet sigh.. Hansol isn’t carrying anything- no bag, no clothes. Jeonghan can’t smell anger on him at all. The decision was made, then, and Hansol had come to terms with it already. A void opens up in the centre of Jeonghan’s chest. He didn’t think that the pack would have agreed to turn him out so quickly.

“Hey,”  Hansol says.

Jeonghan doesn’t reply- he can’t speak, of course, in his wolf form. But he is also ignoring Hansol.

Hansol allows them a few more minutes of silence before knocking his knee against Jeonghan’s side.

“C’mon hyung, I wanna talk to you.” It’s so loud next to the water that Hansol has to raise his voice to be heard over the rushing and splashing.

Jeonghan stares blankly out over the water, but acquiesces. This is why the pack sent Hansol- Jeonghan doesn’t have the will to push back against one of their youngest. His fur melts away, leaving him as naked and human as Hansol.

“How -” Hansol starts, but Jeonghan interrupts him.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Jeonghan can’t hide the rasp in his voice. Oh well, it’s far too late to put up any pretenses anyway.“I know Hansol-ah. I know.”

“You know?” Hansol cocks his head.

Jeonghan sighs and tries to gather his strength. Sighs again.

“My things- could you- my sister. You can send them along to her.”

“Your…things?”

“Just the important stuff, my ID, my um, wallet. I think- Seungkwan will know where they are.”  

“What?”

Jeonghan bites his lip.

“I can- I can pick them up from my sister. So I don’t- you don’t have to have me in the house.”

Hansol looks taken aback, shock and confusion animated on his face

“Uhh, hyung, what are we talking about right now?”

Jeonghan fixes him with a hurt look, to which Hansol just blinks, evidently not knowing how to respond.

“I-” but then the searing pain is burning up his throat and pushing past his words. Jeonghan bursts into tears.

“Woah-” Hansol jumps, reaching out as Jeonghan tries to push the tears back through sheer force of will. Jeonghan tilts his head back and stares up at the stars and swallows and sniffs. Tentatively, Hansol rests a comforting hand on Jeonghan’s back. When Jeonghan doesn’t push him away, he strengthens his hold, pulling Jeonghan against him and shushing him quietly.

‘Hyung, what did you think I was here to say?”

“To go,” Jeonghan rasps. “You came here to tell me to go.”

“The pack,” Jeonghan clarifies at Hansol’s blank expression. “To leave the pack.”

Horror dawns, slow and terrible, on Hansol’s features.

“I came to see if you’re okay,” Hansol replies quietly. “Everyone is really worried about you hyung.”

“But,“ Jeonghan says, “But Seungcheol-”

“Cheol hyung is fine. We’re taking care of him.”

Jeonghan stiffens “Taking care of him?” he says, his voice thin and brittle. He can’t help but picture Seungcheol in the throes of heat, being fucked and kissed and held by everyone except Jeonghan. Jeonghan’s scent flares, betraying his jealous, territorial feelings.

Hansol jerks in alarm, holding his hands up to his chest. “Not like that! Just like, uh, snuggling and stuff. I think.”

“Sorry.”Jeonghan gnaws his lips. “I don’t- I have no right to be-”

“Don’t you?”

Jeonghan doesn’t look at him.

“It’s fine, right? To be a little jealous.”

Jeonghan sighs.

Hansol frowns then. “Hyung, did you really think I was going to tell you to like- leave?”

“Not you,” Jeonghan hurries to say, it’s not on Hansol. “Just maybe, if everyone thought it was for the best. If Seungcheol maybe thought that. I don’t know.”  

“Oh man,” Hansol exhales heavily, speaking half to himself. “This is a fuckup.”

“Hyung is pissed,” Hansol tells Jeonghan. “I thought he was gonna kill Mingyu. And the guys- they feel pretty bad, hyung. They wanna talk to you. Say sorry I think. Soonyoung keeps saying you’ll hate him for life now.”

Jeonghan laughs, then throws his head into his palms and shakes his head.

“Aish. They were- I’m not angry. It was the right thing to do.”

Hansol laughs, and Jeonghan shoots him a look.

“Seungcheol hyung would not agree,” Hansol informs him.

Jeonghan turns the conversation over in his mind, flooded with relief.

“Hyung,” Hansol starts, sounding apprehensive. “I don’t know how to say this…” Despite the conversation they had just had, Jeonghan freezes up, unsure.

“Maybe you should, um, wash? Before we go? You’re covered in blood and… stuff.”

Jeonghan glances down- the blood had not come off in the shift into his human form. His collarbone is covered in the sticky red of Seungcheol’s blood. He smacks his hands to his face and feels it drying all over his mouth and jaw.

“Oh my god, Hansol? You were talking to me just like that? While it was all on my face?”Jeonghan gasps.

Hansol breaks into huge wheezing laughter.

Jeonghan dashes into the river, wading up to his chest. He dunks his head into the icy water, coming up scrubbing and rinsing vigorously. The water is absolutely frigid. Even with his werewolf constitution, he has goosebumps all over, and his bits have all shrivelled up close to his body. Hansol is still laughing from the river bank, and so Jeonghan aims a giant splash at him, which lands with satisfying accuracy. Hansol yells, but jumps in after him, splashing him back in revenge.

“Y’know this is the longest I’ve spent in my wolf form since I was bitten?” Jeonghan starts out of nowhere.

Hansol turns to him, surprised.

“Oh.” He runs a contemplative hand back and forth over the surface of the water “D’you not like it?”

Jeonghan thinks about the way his wolf melts into the wilderness. He thinks about how it feels the further away he gets from his human body and the closer he gets to his wolf. How the world expands, how at ease he feels, even with the greyscale vision, even with the loss of speech, even with the loss of his opposable thumbs. How the moon magic spreads under his skin, more protective than his huge, thick coat. Despite everything, this body is his body. He can’t imagine it otherwise. He’s kept up his anger at Taewoo, for biting him, all this time. He’s not sure why, when that anger had emptied out so long ago.

“No,” Jeonghan eventually replies. “I like it.”  

“Then that’s…good,” Hansol ventures. Jeonghan nods.

“You should shift more often, if it’s good.” It’s that simple to Hansol. It’s really that simple.

When Hansol stands to leave, Jeonghan stands with him. Jeonghan shifts without another word, and they take off back to the hanok.

Jeonghan and Hansol shake off the shift as they approach the end of the forest. Along the familiar pathway back to the hanok, Joshua comes into view, slouching over his phone-screen, face lit up by its white-blue glow. He holds a packet of their clothing in one hand, which he offers out first to Jeonghan and then to Hansol.

Jeonghan slips the clothing on without fuss. It’s a relief that Joshua isn’t making a big deal out of this, although the air still feels heavy and awkward. They fall into single-file walking back along the forest path, Joshua in the front, Hansol in the middle, and Jeonghan bringing up the rear. Hansol clears his throat once, awkwardly.

“Hansol-”

“Shua-ya-” Joshua and Jeonghan speak at the same time. Jeonghan inhales to speak, but Joshua speaks over him, stopping dead in the middle of the pathway.

“Me first,” Joshua interrupts. He turns to smile at Hansol. ”Hansol-ah, Seungkwan is back,if you want to go on ahead.”

“Oh! Um,” Hansol starts.

“I can walk back with Jeonghan.” It’s a sweet way to put what he really means- that he wants them left alone, and that he won’t let Jeonghan out of his sight.

“That’s great.” Hansol coughs around a laugh. What a brat; Jeonghan should smack him. “Yeah. I’ll um, see you there? Thanks for the pants hyung.”

“Bye bye.” Jeonghan can hear the smile in Joshua’s voice and how quickly that sweetness drops away once Hansol has gained some distance from them. Jeonghan starts to walk, but Joshua stays frozen on the path, his back to Jeonghan. His voice cuts through the sounds of the forest, steady and clear.

 “Next time, Jeonghan. If you decide to go camping on your own, you have to come to me first.”

Jeonghan watches the careful stillness of Joshua’s shoulders, the back of his hair as he holds his head up high.

“If you go, I’m going with you.”

“Shua-yah-”

“No. I’m serious. I’m happy here, I’m so happy here, really. But if you aren’t, and you want to go, like, for real, then you come and wake me up in the middle of the night or whenever it is and we go together.” Joshua isn’t shouting, but his voice is as forceful as he ever gets when he’s serious.

“I don’t want to go anywhere, Soo-yah. I’m not going anywhere.”

Joshua turns to him, angry, and to Jeonghan’s alarm, eyes red-rimmed and brimming with tears.

“Don’t say that when you literally just did. Did you even stop and think about the pack? Did you even think about me?”

Jeonghan hadn’t, and his silence tells that to Joshua straight away. The recognition sinks into Joshua like a blade.

“It’s not like that, Shua, it’s not. I just-”  Jeonghan trails off.

“Just what?” Joshua needles.

Jeonghan can’t muster a reply.

“God,”Joshua scoffs.”You’re so fucking selfish.”

Jeonghan watches in horror as the tears start falling.

“Joshuji-”

“Really what was it about then? You weren’t thinking about the pack, weren’t even thinking about Seungcheol- he’s a fucking mess, by the way- and you absolutely weren’t thinking about me.”

Jeonghan grasps for words.

“I want to stay. I’m happy here too. I- I don’t want to go, I don’t want to go anywhere,” Jeonghan says sullenly, and then desperately tries to lighten the mood.

“I thought the pack might want a bit of a break, that’s all.”

“A break? A break from what?”Joshua says tightly.

“Just from me.”  

Joshua stares at him long enough that Jeonghan grows restless and nauseous from the silence.

“Wow,” Joshua says finally. He wipes his eyes,looks up at the treetops, and laughs. Jeonghan’s eyes widen in surprise- it’s a real laugh, not something bitter and caustic.

 “I take it back,” Joshua says. “You’re not selfish. You’re just stupid.”

Jeonghan rears back.
“Listen,Yoon Jeonghan. The next time you decide that the pack needs a ‘break’ from you- Then I-” Joshua punctuates his sentence with a finger jabbed in the centre of Jeonghan’s chest, “am going with you.”

After a long silence, when Jeonghan is sure that Joshua won’t rebuff him, he slips his hand into Joshua’s and laces their fingers tight.

“Okay,” Jeonghan tells him.  We’ll go together.”

The noise of the forest is so dense and ubiquitous that it becomes its own kind of silence. Jeonghan and Joshua keep their conversation low as they walk, caught up in a close and secretive spell.

Jeonghan swings their hands between them. Then, suddenly reminded of what Joshua had said earlier, he asks, “Is Seungkwannie actually here or did you just say that to get Hansollie to leave?”

Joshua grins.

“Yeah, he’s really here. Our new pack omega just presented, and his dirty alpha left him in the middle of the forest. Of course he’s here.”

Ah. Right. Jeonghan winces. Joshua links his elbow with Jeonghan’s and squeezes him happily.

“You’re in so much trouble~!”

The hanok glows golden against the grey dusk sky. Jeonghan is relieved to see it, all the way from the other side of the field; a warm spot in the cold. And yet his stomach is in knots, each step forward carrying him there too quickly. Jeonghan wipes his palms off on his pants only for the clamminess to return right away. If it were Seungcheol in his position, he wouldn’t be such a coward. But Seungcheol wouldn’t have gotten himself into this situation in the first place. Seungcheol usually does the right thing the first time around.

Joshua herds him through the back door, and Jeonghan spares a passing grimace for the fact that his bare feet are going to track dirt into the house. There’s no stopping to clean them though, not with Joshua walking behind him like a jailer.

Joshua doesn’t even pause at the living room door, where Jeonghan can hear from the rolling babble that the pack is congregated. Joshua just keeps pushing Jeonghan down the hall to the bedrooms. When Jeonghan starts in the direction of Seungcheol’s room, Joshua guides him across the corridor to Jeonghan’s own room. Jeonghan blinks in confusion.

“He wanted to be in there,” he offers in explanation. Jeonghan nods numbly. Right.

“He tried to be all stoic about it.” Joshua shakes his head. “He kicked us all out.  We’ve been bombing pheromones from down the hall.”

“Stupid man,” Jeonghan hisses as his heart clenches. But he knows what it's like when you don’t want the others to see you cry.

“Hey Seungcheol,” Joshua calls through the closed door. “I brought you something.”

“Wait, wait,” Jeonghan hisses “What if he doesn’t want to see me-”

“Then he can kick you out himself.” Joshua pulls open Seungcheol’s door and pushes Jeonghan inside with a shove between his shoulder blades. When Joshua pulls the door shut behind him, Jeonghan has nowhere to look except at Seungcheol.

Seungcheol is in Jeonghan’s bed, curled up like he belongs there. At first glance, it doesn’t look like there’s anything wrong with Seungcheol - he’s on his side, blanket pulled all the way up. It’s only when Jeonghan gets closer that he notices the sweat at his temples, the red spots high on his cheeks, and the way his pupils are blown wide with fever. Seungcheol doesn’t look up from his phone, but Jeonghan can see that his screen has gone dark and his thumb isn’t scrolling. Jeonghan is standing in the doorway, wound tight and debating once again if he shouldn’t just flee. Then Seungcheol kicks the blankets down.

Seungcheol’s scent billows out. Jeonghan can’t see for a moment, overwhelmed and dizzy as the potent, demanding cloud engulfs him. Jeonghan’s scent is mixed in there, thick and settled. Seungcheol’s scent is frenetic. His usual sweetness comes first, followed by this new scent. Jeonghan feels that same wave of debilitating tenderness - Seungcheol’s smell isn’t a smell at all, it’s a presence. Seungcheol is just about naked too. The only thing he has on is a t-shirt- one of Jeonghan’s. It’s not Seungcheol’s bare thighs that tugs something primal inside Jeonghan. It’s seeing Seungcheol nesting in Jeonghan’s bed with Jeonghan’s clothing that feels private and vulnerable. Jeonghan can’t temper his flare of satisfaction, the urge to preen. His omega. Right where he should be.

Seungcheol is big everywhere. He’s strong enough to pick Jeonghan up and carry him around. Once, when Seungcheol had been feeling sentimental, he had described Jeonghan as a tree. All Jeonghan can think now, stupidly, is that Seungcheol is the tree- big and wide and solid. He can smell Seungcheol’s slick, too. The smell of Seungcheol’s cunt is ripe and sour. Seungcheol sits up in the mess of sheets, and Jeonghan zeroes in on the glistening coating on his thighs and the wet patch he’s left on the mattress between his legs. Jeonghan can taste the saliva pooling in his mouth.

“Jeonghan-ah,” Seungcheol calls, sweet and piteous. It’s exhilarating. Jeonghan closes his eyes to savour it when Seungcheol calls out again. In the forest, he had simply reacted, he hadn’t been able to enjoy it. But now he can, and he does. Jeonghan looms beside the bed, not knowing when he had gravitated there, but remembering through the pound of arousal that he ought to wait for permission to enter this omega’s nest, even if this omega was his. A part of Jeonghan urges him to soothe Seungcheol immediately; touch him and kiss him and knot him satisfied. Another part of Jeonghan tells him to wait, wants to wind Seungcheol even tighter, wants to see him desperate. It wouldn’t take much; already Seungcheol is rutting and squirming, and Jeonghan hasn’t even touched him.

Taking Seungcheol’s renewed whimpering as permission, Jeonghan climbs into the bed, straddling Seungcheol’s hips. Seungcheol falls back against the pillows, looking up at Jeonghan, pupils black with desire. Jeonghan grins. But Seungcheol doesn’t reach for him. Instead, a shadow passes over his face, and he digs his fingers into the covers. Confused, Jeonghan moves to touch him, a hand spread to the side of Seungcheol’s neck. It’s like Seungcheol blood leaps to meet him, pulse beating so strongly under Jeonghan’s hand. But Seungcheol cringes and reluctantly twists away, fighting against himself. Even with his weak human nose, Jeonghan can smell bitter anguish seeping into the air around them. Jeonghan reaches again to touch him, and again Seungcheol flinches. Jeonghan whips his hand away.

“Seungcheol.” It takes a few tries before Seungcheol looks at him. “What’s wrong? Should I not touch you?”

“Touch me!” Seungcheol gasps, but then shakes his head. His eyes can’t seem to focus, wandering and glassy. “No don’t, you can’t-”

The fever has him firmly in its fist; Seungcheol’s grasp on consciousness is feeble. He’s sunk deeper into the heat, sending himself spiralling from needing to hurting.

“Seungcheol-” Jeonghan feels like crying. Seungcheol isn’t making any sense. “Why can’t I touch you?”

Seungcheol just groans, still disorientated. Worry pours cold down Jeonghan’s spine. His stomach is in freefall. Had the pack just left him like this? Dipping in and out of consciousness? Alone? Jeonghan is going to kill them.

Jeonghan presses both hands to Seungcheol’s cheeks and tilts his face to force his focus on Jeonghan.

“Seungcheol” he barks, slapping his cheeks urgently. It seems to spark an attempt at recognition, but it’s not enough.

“Omega!”

Seungcheol’s eyes snap to his. Jeonghan freezes, scanning his face. Seungcheol looks back, and it’s him there, finally.

“There you are. Oh fuck, Cheol.” Jeonghan’s whole body bows in relief. Seungheol blinks, but stays alert.

“Omega. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Seungcheol, still a little gauzy,  wets his lips and says, “I want you to touch me. You don’t want to touch me. Don’t want to…make you.”

“I want to touch you. I am touching you.” Flooded with adrenaline, Jeonghan doesn’t even care how scared he sounds.

Seungcheol shakes his head.

“S’your wolf. S’just your wolf. You hate your wolf.” Seungcheol sounds certain, even in the heat haze. It’s what Seungcheol truly thinks. Jeonghan hates his wolf.

Jeonghan screws up his eyes. It’s not true, but can he even deny what Seungcheol said? His thoughts go round and round in a drowning spiral. He can’t deny it now, not when Seungcheol won’t believe him anyway. Everything Jeonghan has done since he went into heat has just proved Seungcheol’s statement.

And then something in Jeonghan clicks. Jeonghan drags Seungcheol’s stubborn hand from its clench in the sheets and laces their fingers together. He knows what he needs to do. It doesn’t matter that it terrifies him. It doesn’t matter that he’ll be opening the floodgates, and everything with come crashing through. Seungcheol needs him. Seungcheol’s grip is weak, and Jeonghan squeezes it once to reassure him. Then he disentangles their fingers and slowly, intentionally, rubs their wrists together. Seungcheol’s jaw drops, and he croaks in shock. Jeonghan smooths their scent glands together over and over, until Seungcheol’s scent blooms. Jeonghan would love to say that it feels like nothing special. That scenting is just a gesture, nothing more. But Jeonghan’s scent is blooming too, and he can smell himself, more honest in instinct than he’s ever been with words. He’s home.

Jeonghan blinks through blurring vision. Desperate to hide, Jeonghan wraps his arms around Seungcheol and wrenches Seungcheol to him, neck to neck, to scent like that. It’s better and worse. If scenting with his wrist felt like exhaling a long-held sigh, then scenting neck-to-neck feels like a heimlich manoeuvre. Magic and body braid together. Their scents combine. Jeonghan feels Seungcheol come back to himself, piece by piece. Jeonghan burrows into him. He could stay right here forever, wrapped in their smell, in this feeling. He feel so good. He never, ever wants to let go. He’s been denying himself all this time. And for what? He hears Jun’s smirking voice in his head saying I told you so.

A lot of things become painfully obvious in the twining of their scents. Not that Jeonghan doesn’t know that Seungcheol wants him, but does Seungcheol know how Jeonghan wants him back? He doesn’t seem surprised to smell it at all. Seungcheol’s hand reaches up to gently cradle the back of his head. Jeonghan adjusts his grip on the back of Seungcheol’s shirt. Jeonghan’s turmoil must be obvious. If Jeonghan can now read a hundred flickering emotions in the weave of their combined scents, then so could Seungcheol. Seungcheol’s scent has a texture. Seungcheol’s anxiety feels warped and rough. Seungcheol’s euphoria is light as air. His relief feels like tender jelly. Of course, even delirious and in heat, Seungcheol is the one who is comforting him. All the same, Jeonghan takes that comfort. Jeonghan dissolves into Seungcheol’s hold, rubbing their scent glands together until the edges between them blur.

Jeonghan doesn’t know for certain whether or not he hates his wolf. It hasn’t really occurred to Jeonghan to feel otherwise. Isn’t hating being a werewolf the normal thing to do? Jeonghan still feels like he’s through the looking-glass with Seungcheol and the rest of this pack. It was Seungcheol who’s weird for feeling otherwise, it’s the pack who’s out of step with common sense. And yet…Jeonghan hooks his chin over Seungcheol’s shoulder, an awful fearful trembling in his hands.

“Of every single thing about being a wolf,” Jeonghan says, ”the best part has always been you.”

Jeonghan’s voice cracks right down the middle as he says it. Before he has any time to wince at himself, he’s being dragged away from his hiding place in the crook of Seungcheol’s neck. Seungcheol looks right into his eyes with a cauterising gaze. There’s nowhere to retreat. Jeonghan is caught in the roar of the rapids. He’s tumbling off the waterfall’s edge. And then Seungcheol kisses him.

Seungcheol pulls him closer. Their limbs shift against each other with soft papery rustles. Seungcheol loops his arm around Jeonghan’s shoulders and pulls him all the way in. Jeonghan lets himself be kissed, sinks into the darkness of closed eyes. Seungcheol’s lips are so soft.  It shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it does. Every little obvious thing is a surprise. Seungcheol tastes so warm. He feels so good. He kisses Jeonghan like he means it, like everything he’s ever said with just his eyes when he looks at Jeonghan is all true. When was Jeonghan last kissed with such devoted intent? Never, Jeonghan realises. Not ever. The thought is enough for Jeonghan to redouble his efforts. Jeonghan draws Seungcheol out slowly, until he is leading the kiss instead. He kisses Seungcheol’s soft mouth open, kisses him until he can feel all of his horrible tightness slacken. Seungcheol breaks away from his mouth to kiss the shell of Jeonghan’s ear.

“Aish, why did you run from me, huh?” Seungcheol whispers, smushing his cheek atop Jeonghan’s head.

“Never mind that now. I’m here,” Jeonghan huffs. When Seungcheol gets going, there’s no end to his capacity for emotional declarations- he and Chan are alike in that regard. Jeonghan, however, is quickly reaching his limit.

“You’re in heat, you know?” Jeonghan reminds him. “I need to fuck you.”

A shudder courses through Seungcheol. Jeonghan grins, going in to kiss him hungrily. Just saying that seems to trigger a shiver down Seungcheol’s spine and another spike in Seungcheol’s fever. Seungcheol caves to his arousal right as Jeonghan watches, falling back into the pillows and dragging Jeonghan on top of him as he goes.

It’s not enough to touch Seungcheol under his t-shirt. Jeonghan strips Seungcheol’s t-shirt off so that he can watch himself fondle the meaty curve of Seungcheol’s pecs. He smooths down his sides, comes back, fascinated, to thumb the little pebbles of his nipples.

It doesn’t take long before Seungcheol is letting out these short, sweet gasps, sweet as the smell of his gathering slick. Seungcheol shimmies up onto his elbows, sweeping the dark strands of hair that have stuck to his forehead out of his eyes. Seungcheol gestures down his body with his chin, a mixture of proud and shy.

“D’you see?” Seungcheol worries his bottom lip between his teeth. “I have- can you believe it- Jeonghannie do you see?”

It’s important enough to him that Seungcheol has to tell Jeonghan, even through the heat haze. Jeonghan’s heart turns liquid, and he presses into the fat of Seungcheol’s thighs with his fingertips.

“I see, Seungcheollie.” Jeonghan pets Seungcheol soothingly, over the dark hair that grows thick over his thighs, only thinning just above his knees. He’s tender like he wasn’t in the forest. He’s gentle like he should have been the first time.

Seungcheol crooks his knee and lets his legs fall open for Jeonghan. Jeonghan never asked Seungcheol if he was happy with being a wolf before; Jeonghan had just assumed that he was. Seungcheol has always been so very himself; Jeonghan has never thought of it as a piece-meal happiness. He had no inkling that Seungcheol felt any part of him was unfinished. What feelings had Seungcheol swallowed down, all because Jeonghan refused to talk about being a wolf? How many times had Jeonghan shut down a conversation before it could begin?

“Are you happy with it?” Jeonghan says carefully. Whatever Seungcheol’s scent might be saying, Jeonghan wants to hear Seungcheol confirm it in words.

Seungcheol nods, then blinks hard. He throws an arm over his face and laughs. It comes out choked and wet.

“‘m really happy.”

“Aigo.” Jeonghan coos and kisses Seungcheol’s kneecap. Then he crawls up to pepper Seungcheol’s teary cheeks with kisses.

Jeonghan squirms back down so that he’s between Seungcheol’s legs and strokes a flat hand over Seungcheol’s mound. Seungcheol’s pubic hair is just the same as it was before he presented, a dense black bush. Seungcheol’s pussy is all new, though. Jeonghan strokes the back of his fingers across it, over the lips, like it’s just a little creature. It sort of is, if you look at it from a certain angle. A soft, furry creature.

“Hi,” Jeonghan says to Seungcheol’s pussy. “Nice to meet you.”

Seungcheol laughs again.

‘Why’re you being so nice to it now?”

“Oh?” Jeonghan grins “Was I not nice?”

“No,” Seungcheol pouts. “No you were horrible.”

“Was I? When?” Jeonghan strokes his fingers gently up and down the seam of Seungcheol’s pussy.

“Mmhmm. In the forest. You were gonna fuck me, but you- ah!- left.”

Jeonghan tuts and shakes his head, addressing Seungcheol’s crotch.

“Poor Seungcheollie’s pussy. How could I ever make it up to you?”

Seungcheol’s slick is beginning to drip over his fingers, glistening and sticky, but Jeonghan doesn’t change his coy movements. Seungcheol’s breathing comes in shorter and shorter puffs, his hips shifting towards Jeonghan’s hand with little stunted thrusts. Jeonghan lets one finger dip in between his lips, but just as a tease. Jeonghan pulls it out with a wet squelch. Seungcheol groans at him.

“Shall I give it a kiss?” Jeonghan smiles, making no moves to come any closer.

Seungcheol is cycling through increasingly frustrated movements, stretching towards Jeonghan, rutting and twisting.

“Please,” he groans. Jeonghan grips Seungcheol’s hip and pushes him back down to the bed, pinning him still. Seungcheol struggles with obvious enjoyment, watching Jeonghan’s eyes as they sharpen. Jeonghan grips his hands under Seungcheol’s knees, spreading him wide, then leans right over to spit onto Seungcheol’s clit.

Seungcheol shudders, and even more slick leaks from his hole.

“Han-ah, please. I need you. Fucking-” Seungcheol lurches, tries to overbalance Jeonghan and pull him in, like he does when they wrestle as wolves. Jeonghan takes the opening to grapple harder, to get Seungcheol’s arm trapped and the other held fast by the wrist. He grinds his clothed hips into Seungcheol, watching Seungcheol hold himself in desperate obedience to the friction.

“Jeonghan touch me.”

“You had it right earlier,” Jeonghan says to him, grinning. “In the forest, hmm?”

Jeonghan kisses Seungcheol’s neck. The floodgates had truly opened; Jeonghan can’t stop the things he wants from spilling through.

“Wha-” Seungcheol pants in the snatches of respite Jeonghan grants him between bites to his neck and collar, trying to connect to Jeonghan’s train of thought.

“I- alpha?”

Jeonghan has to close his eyes against the wave of lust that courses through him. His grip on Seungcheol flexes instinctually, keeping him where he is, held down tight.

“Alpha,” Seungcheol begs immediately. “Alpha please. Alpha, alpha.”

“Good boy.”Jeonghan coos, and then dips his head to lick Seungcheol’s aching pussy.

Jeonghan doesn’t think of himself as a generous lover. On the contrary, he knows he’s selfish; he wants what he wants and he takes what he wants. He takes what he wants from Seungcheol’s wet cunt. He wants the slick velvet of Seungcheol’s folds running over his lips. He wants the heat of his clenching hole under the very tip of his tongue. Jeonghan indulges himself everywhere except for Seungcheol’s clit. He mouths over Seungcheol’s inner thighs, Seungcheol’s belly, Seungcheol’s hip bones. When Jeonghan finally fits his lips around Seungcheol’s throbbing clit, Seungcheol sobs in relief, and Jeonghan gifts him with another sweet suck.

“Jeonghan-” Seungcheol starts, eyes dark. “Alpha, do you like it?”

Jeonghan can barely hear Seungcheol, he’s slurring so badly.

“D’you like my pussy?” Seungcheol repeats.

Jeonghan throws him a flat look, then pushes two fingers into his hole.

Seungcheol yelps, and Jeonghan works his fingers in Seungcheol’s messy, hot, tightness. Seungcheol’s coarse, slick-soaked pubic hair squishes against Jeonghan’s knuckles.

“Do I like it?” Jeonghan asks as he crooks his fingers, expression unchanged.

Seungcheol thighs are shaking, his butt lifting off the bed as he’s pulled towards his orgasm. Jeonghan feels a twinge of guilt when Seungcheol’s voice takes on a desperate edge, but it’s drowned out by a roar of satisfaction. Jeonghan keeps up a punishing rhythm and returns to lap at his clit. Seungcheol gets a leg flung over Jeonghan’s shoulder, and his heel digs into Jeonghan’s spine. His whole body pulls tight as an over-tuned guitar string. He comes, crushing Jeonghan’s fingers inside him as he pulses and shudders.

Jeonghan admires Seungcheol as he shakes with the after-shocks. He likes the shape of his mouth, slack and swollen. He likes the dimple of his navel, and the way his stomach moves up and down as he breathes. He likes his pussy, inner lips flushed red. Jeonghan draws his fingers out, and Seungcheol’s hole tries to suck him back in. When Jeonghan pushes his fingers back inside, it’s to see how much of Seungcheol’s come he can scoop out. Honestly, Jeonghan half expects there to be blood mixed in there too. There’s no blood- just glistening slick and creamier come. It doesn’t even taste like blood when Jeonghan lifts his fingers to his mouth– just salty and acidic.

“I do like your pussy,” Jeonghan replies finally. He knows that if he says anything else it’ll be egregious- he’ll say that Seungcheol’s pussy is his, that Seungcheol’s hole is his, that Seungcheol’s orgasms are all his. Jeonghan squeezes the spots from his eyes. Enough. He’s going crazy. As Seungcheol watches from his boneless, just-fucked sprawl, Jeonghan works his cock out of the borrowed sweatpants, pushing the waistband down just enough, leaving it hooked under his balls. He’s been hard on and off since entering the room, and if he doesn’t get to knot inside Seungcheol right now he will actually die.

Seungcheol’s eyes go wide as he registers Jeonghan’s intent. Jeonghan wanted to stay gentle for Seungcheol’s heat, but he tosses that foolish idea right out the window. He mounts Seungcheol while he’s halfway to turning over. Jeonghan doesn’t have the patience to wait for even that, just lines his cock up to Seungcheol’s hole sideways, and pushes in.

Seungcheol takes the rough handling just as beautifully as Jeonghan always knew he would, far better than Jeonghan’s half-formed imaginings. Although, Jeonghan had imagined he’d be fucking Seungcheol’s ass, rather than his cunt. Jeonghan resolves immediately that he must fuck both, one day, to compare.

Being finally all the way inside Seungcheol feels unreal. The hot clutch of Seungcheol’s body, thrust in as deep as he can possibly reach, sends Jeonghan’s whole body into overdrive. Jeonghan fucks single-mindedly, thinking only of getting deeper and filling Seungcheol up. Jeonghan’s knot is swelling in mere moments. Jeonghan swallows the hiss Seungcheol makes, kissing him apologetically. It’s a terrible position to be tied in. Seungcheol’s arm is in the way, and it makes kissing and scenting awkward, but Jeonghan can’t contemplate stopping. A handful of thrusts later and Jeonghan knot fills to full-size and catches. Jeonghan can only grind, lodged deep inside Seungcheol. Despite the surely uncomfortable position, Seungcheol sighs a long contented exhale. It’s the flash of his teeth, the loose satisfied smile, that pushes Jeonghan over the edge.The dam breaks with a burst of terrible pleasure, and he comes.

Jeonghan makes it up to Seungcheol for tying them in such an awkward position the next round, and then makes it up again the round after that. He fucks Seungcheol in his lap, close so they can kiss. He fucks Seungcheol on all fours, so that Seungcheol can present for him all over again. He fucks with Seungcheol on top, flopping back against the pillows, finally letting Seungcheol do all the work.

It’s after the third time Jeonghan knots him that Seungcheol cries. Jeonghan’s come already, knot plugging Seungcheol so very full. Seungcheol is telling Jeonghan how good he feels, how he’s thought about Jeonghan’s knot all the time, all the time, and that he’s always wanted Jeonghan inside him.

“Yeah? You’ve always wanted it?” Jeonghan says it thoughtlessly, volleying it back as dirty talk.

But when Seungcheol nods in reply, he bursts into tears. They aren’t sexy tears, the kind that spring when pushed to sensory overload. Jeonghan can’t pull out without hurting Seungcheol. Even so, he lurches to try and detach them. But Seungcheol shakes his head and squeezes his walls around Jeonghan’s dick in reassurance.

“S’good,” he says wetly. “Stay inside.”

“Cheollie- Cheol-”

“Feels perfect. I’m sorry. It’s perfect. It’s- I-”

Seungcheol accepts the wrist Jeonghan offers for scenting, then accepts the kisses to his forehead, then accepts Jeonghan’s arms around him.

“It’s what, hmm?” Jeonghan coaxes. It’s actually easier to talk like this, with his dick cosy inside and them tied together. It makes everything feel a little less serious. Or maybe it’s just that this is the most satisfied that Jeonghan’s wolf has ever felt. “What’s happening?”

“You don’t know, but I always needed this.”

Jeonghan feels it again, the guilt of his years of stubborn silence, the weight of all these important things that Seungcheol hadn’t been able to say to him. He says nothing for a long moment, scenting Seungcheol to comfort him. He keeps his apologies under his tongue. The last thing Seungcheol needs right now are Jeonghan’s self-recriminations.

“Yeah?”

Seungcheol nods, lifting up from Jeonghan’s arms to roll back up to sitting. It’s like he needs the space or needs Jeonghan looking up at him. Seungcheol gropes around for the right words.

“Feel like-like myself,” Seungcheol says eventually. “Have you ever felt that? Like I just, I know this sounds crazy but I just met myself- like, me- for the first time, two days ago.”

“When you presented?”

“When I presented.” Seungcheol nods.

Oh, Jeonghan thinks.

“Doesn’t sound crazy,” Jeonghan manages in reply. He clears his throat. “Did you just know you were an omega?”

Seungcheol shrugs.

“Not exactly. More like- I was weirdly jealous of Seungkwan, and I was really glad I hadn’t presented yet, because I always thought I’d probably be an alpha.”

Jeonghan contemplates Seungcheol’s words for a moment.

“I thought you were jealous of him being a maknae,” Jeonghan tells him.

“Ha!” Seungcheol scoffs. “Nah. I just wanted to get fucked.” That’s not quite the whole of it, Jeonghan surmises. But if Seungcheol wants to lighten the mood a little then-

“You know, when I thought about you, I did always imagine that I would be fucking you.”

“I know.” Seungcheol grins slyly.

“Oh?’ Jeonghan plays along, glad that Seungcheol is back to teasing him. “You know that?”

“You think you can look at my ass like that and get away with it? Not a chance.”

Jeonghan blushes scarlet, then reaches around to pinch Seungcheol on the buttcheek in retaliation.

When he and Seungcheol emerge from the nest, parched and starving, not a single person scolds him. Contrary to what Joshua had said, Jeonghan isn’t in trouble at all. Instead, the pack is singing. Jihoon has his guitar on his knee with Seokmin riffing a melody, and the rest of them form a casual circle, throwing in ad-libs.

When they shuffle into the living room, there’s a tangible lift in the mood. No one fusses over them though, making space for them around the table like it’s any other evening. It’s not highly unusual for the entire pack to be gathered, partying in the living room, mid-week at two pm. Jeonghan spies Joshua scanning the more excitable of their packmates with a careful eye and feels a rush of gratitude for whatever it is that he’d surely said to them all. Seungcheol plops down on a pillow and allows Jeonghan no time to dither, pulling him down next to him and twining their arms together.

Someone has been cooking, or maybe everyone has been cooking, because the living room is set up with three fold-out tables heaving with dishes. It’s their usual fare- kimchi jigae, a mountain of rice, and instant ramyeon; hangover-style - but there’s samgyetang too, and jeyuk bokkeum, and a platter of grilled pork and beef- unusually not already picked clean. It’s a feast. And the pack had been waiting for them to share it. Jeonghan immediately shoves a portion of rice and laver into his mouth so that he doesn’t end up crying.

Later, when Jeonghan asks what the hell they were all doing, Jihoon admits that not a single one of them had been able to settle until they could smell that Seungcheol’s fever had broken (Knotted. Until they could smell when Seungcheol had been knotted). They were all hovering around anyway, and they had figured that Jeonghan and Seungcheol would be hungry afterwards, and that was all. No big deal.

“Liars,” Seungcheol whispers affectionately in Jeonghan’s ear. “It’s a big deal.”

It grows even more comfortable as the pack starts eating. Jeonghan and Seungcheol are passed bottles of water that they both down immediately, and then Jeonghan loses himself to the food, descending on the meal with a ferocious appetite he so rarely feels.

Myungho raises his drink in Jeonghan and Seungcheol’s direction.

“To our new omega-” he toasts, then grins like a smug cat “-and to the happy couple.” The whole room cheers.

“But,” Jeonghan mumbles, sucking his teeth, “are we a couple?” Sudden silence falls, and all of Jeonghan’s packmates, save for Seungcheol, stare at him horrified.

“I’m joking,” Jeonghan cackles, reaching for Seungcheol and waving their clasped hands around to everyone as proof. Everyone exhales in collective relief.

“You’re wicked,” Seungcheol says to him, besotted, and kisses his cheek. Jeonghan can’t help but giggle.

“Oh no,” Chan begs, wide-eyed, “Please, please, don’t be gross now.”

“-Gross now?” 

“-Where have you been, Lee Chan?”

“-They’ve always been gross.”

Jeonghan shares a look with Seungcheol, not hiding his fondness. They have always been a little gross, haven't they?

There are a few weird moments, too. The others recount for Jeonghan the full story of what had happened while he was away in the forest. Mingyu tries to apologise, guilty for ‘dragging Soonyoung and everyone into it’ which makes Jeonghan kind of want to die. They press Jeonghan for what he had been doing during his night in the forest, to which Jeonghan admits he did nothing much and had no good reason for going anyway. Seungcheol squeezes his hand as he says that, and Jeonghan can feel Seungcheol mentally putting a pin in it for a later conversation. Seungcheol delights in narrating for everyone how it felt to present, now that he can tell the full story, and the fever isn’t clogging his brain.

“- and I shouldn’t have let you go, back there in the forest,” Seungcheol concludes, turning to Jeonghan with big eyes. That Jeonghan can’t abide.

“Cheol-ah, be serious.” Jeonghan puts his plate down, but the chopsticks are still in his fingers. “How could you have? You were all uwwaaaah on the floor! You were presenting!” Jeonghan waves his hands around his head to illustrate.

“Uwaaah?” Soonyoung and Seokmin immediately copy him, and then two more people are waving their hands about like seaweed.

“-Seungcheol- Uwaah~!”

“-Hyung, hyung- Uwaaaaaaah~!”

The chorus of silly wails goes around the room like a Mexican wave at a stadium, except for Hansol, who clutches his ribs on the floor, wheezing with laughter.

“Ah you- shush!” Seungcheol yells “I was not like that! I wasn’t! Jeonghan you bastard!”

Jihoon is the first of the others to make their way over to Seungcheol to scent him. He sits himself down beside Seungcheol with a quiet resolve, just far enough away that he doesn’t intrude on his personal space, but extends his wrist wordlessly. Seungcheol grabs him instead, hugging him and scenting him all over. That opens the floodgates for the rest of the pack, and Seungcheol is quickly enveloped in a pile of his packmates, mingling his new scent with each of theirs, spreading reassurance to everyone. It smells wonderful, honestly. It smells right.

With food in his stomach Jeonghan can feel himself fading fast, nodding off where he sits. He’s exhausted. Seungcheol, whom he is leaning up against, seems to be the opposite, somehow energised now that the fever is broken, yelling at the top of his voice, gestures getting wilder by the minute. Jeonghan kind of wants to lie down, but he wants to stay laying on Seungcheol. Maybe he can just sleep right here, face in between Seungcheol’s pecs.

“Yah, why do you look worse than he does?’ Seungkwan says suddenly.

“Wuh?” Jeonghan blinks woozily, taking a while to process the words. Several people laugh at him, and Jeonghan can physically feel Seungcheol chuckling from where he rests back against Seungcheol’s sternum.

“Aigo, poor Seungcheol. Alpha’s stamina is just not up to it,” Seungkwan simpers with false concern. Jeonghan takes a half-hearted swipe at him as the room titters. Brat. All of his dongsaengs were brats. Luckily for Seungkwan, Jeonghan is too cosy to mete out any violence. That, and Seungcheol gives him a soothing scenting swipe, wrist to wrist. There’s a few gasps, and Jeonghan opens his eyes to all of them staring at the point of contact. It’s the first time they’ve scented in front of everyone.

“Oh,” Wonwoo says with a tiny smile, “You scent now?”

Jeonghan considers. Was scenting something he only wanted with Seungcheol? He sees the way Soonyoung is holding himself in anxious anticipation, and the way Jun looks at him surreptitiously. Jeonghan smiles. He makes a show of it, drawing in a huge sigh and flicking his hair back, then extends his wrists out.

“Go on then.”

No sooner are the words out of his mouth than his pack descends with whoops, engulfing him in much the same way they had done to Seungcheol.

“Yah! Don’t overwhelm him?” Seungcheol calls, shoved off somewhere to the side.

“-Too late!” Jeonghan calls from inside the tangle of limbs. But it feels wonderful. It feels right.

Seokmin acts like he’s gotten a new perfume, sniffing at the combination on his body and leaning back to exclaim “wah” in intervals.

“It’s kind of like fruit?” Mingyu says, in reference to the layers of Seungcheol’s deepened scent. “But more?”

“Still smells like fish to me,” Joshua teases, and Seungcheol throws a pillow at him.

“Black beans,” Hansol says.

“Red cabbage,” offers Myungho.

The consensus is that Seungcheol smells ‘like an omega’. Whatever that means, Jeonghan doesn’t know, but it makes Seungcheol buzz with happiness.

“What do I smell like to you?” Seungcheol asks Jeonghan.

“Cherries,” Jeonghan answers immediately.

Seungcheol smacks his hip. “Come on. You’re talking shit.”

“I’m serious!”Jeonghan smiles. “Cherries and… vanilla.”

“Yoon Jeonghan, I am not a dessert.”

Jeonghan rests his open teeth on the ball of Seungcheol’s shoulder and pretends to bite with an exaggerated ‘nyam’ sound.

Seungcheol goes for a kiss, but Jeonghan pulls out of reach. And then Jeonghan does it again. Seungcheol snaps at him playfully, kissing the underside of Jeonghan’s jaw and over his Adam’s apple while Jeonghan laughs and holds his lips out of reach. Maybe he’s being a little wicked, but seeing Seungcheol pout is worth it.

A disbelieving scoff jolts the both of them out of their little bubble.

Their pack members are staring at them, expressions ranging from flatly unimpressed - Wonwoo, Jihoon, Joshua - to full blown indignance - Chan, Seungkwan, Minghao. Oh well. At least Soonyoung looks delighted.

“I just said don’t be gross,” Chan accuses.

Seungcheol wraps his arms around Jeonghan’s waist and sways him side to side extra affectionately just to rile Chan. Jeonghan can see the rest of the pack sort of blinking at them, a little in awe at their display.

“Tough luck,” Seungcheol says to Chan and sticks his tongue out.

“Yeah Chan-ah,” Jeonghan choruses, hands coming up to hold Seungcheol’s arms, leaning deeper into Seungcheol. “Tough luck.”

Months later, Jeonghan wakes in the middle of the night, pulled from his dreams by the familiar howl of a wolf. His ears prickle in the darkness, and he tries to pick out who it might be. It could be Mingyu, he had been up late recently. Or Soonyoung; because Soonyoungie was always an option. It’s definitely not Seungcheol. Seungcheol was right where Jeonghan left him when Jeonghan had gone to sleep: in bed beside him. Seungcheol is fast asleep, a leg thrown over Jeonghan’s hips, and his arm a dead weight over Jeonghan’s ribs. He’s snoring too, right into Jeonghan’s neck.

Jeonghan listens carefully to the sounds outside, waiting for another howl. An answering howl farther away tells him that it’s not any of his pack members at all- it’s the actual wolves that live on the mountain. They must be passing through. He turns over, bullying Seungcheol’s heavy body over until he can reclaim some of the space in the bed. Content with Seungcheol’s snores directed away from him, and with his leg thrown over Seungcheol, Jeonghan goes back to sleep.

Later, Jeonghan surfaces to the brush of a kiss against his forehead. In the soup of his still dreaming consciousness, he registers that Seungcheol is leaving for work. Jeonghan, eyes still shut, gropes around directionlessly. Seungcheol catches his hand and kisses it, then tucks it back under the duvet.

“Shh, you don’t have to get up yet,” Seungcheol murmurs to him. “See you later, baby. Love you.” Jeonghan tries to mumble it back in reply, but he’s not sure he manages. He’s already  being lulled back down into the arms of sleep.

Jeonghan wakes up for real at eight. He dresses leisurely, tugging open the other side of his closet, where Seungcheol keeps his clothes now. Everyone unabashedly loves their leader’s scent, even Chan, who gets tugged back whenever leaves the house, enduring Seungcheol nuzzling him within an inch of his life. Jeonghan pulls on Seungcheol’s blue chequered jacket, and the smell of it, fish included, lays along his skin better than any coat. Jeonghan hasn’t shared a room with Seungcheol for years. The last time was back in Seoul when they were crammed into a two-pyeong apartment and hiding from the landlords when inspection days came around. As soon as there was space to be had, they had given it to each other. It ‘s nice to have Seungcheol back on different terms.

He finds Myungho waiting for him in the kitchen, and they head out to the front yard with yoga mats. Jeonghan has always liked the dedication Myungho gives to his meditating, and Myungho swears by it as essential for communicating with his alpha. Jeonghan had finally accepted the invitation that Myungho had extended to him years ago. Myungho has been really good at not making a big deal out of it. Jeonghan likes the quiet, but he isn’t sure if he ‘s communicating with his wolf yet. But he’s trying.

At twelve, when Seungcheol gets off work, Jeonghan sits on a concrete bollard by the pier, bracing against the salty whipping wind of the ocean. Seungcheol is hurriedly shucking off his rubber gloves and apron, scrubbing up so that they can leave. Jeonghan hops off the bollard, standing and tilting his neck, ready for Seungcheol to lean forward and scent him, which he does. Jeonghan sighs, the touch of Seungcheol’s neck is a greeting and a comfort all at once. Jeonghan twists their hands around until he has Seungcheol’s fingers laced with his, and they walk together from the pier.

Jeonghan had promised Junhui that they’d have lunch together, and so, with Seungcheol in tow, they fetch him from the malatang restaurant. Rather than imposing on the restaurant’s back-alley, the three of them head to a convenience-store and sit outside at the plastic tables for kimbap.  After lunch, Seungcheol goes home to sleep, and Jeonghan takes himself off to his town rounds.

When Jeonghan gets home, he fetches snacks and a six-pack of beer from the fridge, and heads out to the forest on foot. He makes his way through the forest path. It’s slow on foot instead of in his wolf form, but he can’t carry the beer like that, so on foot it has to be.  When he gets to the muku tree, he settles in the clearing between its roots and sends a text to Seungcheol.

By the tree. He texts.  I got the beers.

Then, just because he can:

Love you~

The clearing under the muku tree is Seungcheol’s favourite spot in the forest. It makes sense, especially for a big softie like Seungcheol. Jeonghan doesn’t quite feel the same. He can’t help that every time they come here, no matter how many good memories they overlay, he sees himself backing away from Seungcheol in pain, turning tail and running away. But Jeonghan can appreciate that it’s beautiful here.

Seungcheol’s footsteps snap Jeonghan out of his reverie.

“You wanted to drink out here instead?” Seungcheol says in lieu of a greeting, then leans down to peck Jeonghan on the lips.

“Mmhmm,” Jeonghan says. “That and some other stuff. Come sit.”

‘Other stuff?” Seungcheol waggles his eyebrows.

“No,” Jeonghan scolds, although Seungcheol is right. But-  not yet. Jeonghan hooks his fingers in Seungcheol’s belt loops and tries to pull him to the ground.

“Wah-Jeonghan, careful! I’ll crush you.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes.

“Crush who? Tsch, I’m a werewolf. You think I can’t take your weight? You think you’re so strong? You know I’ve been letting you win when we wrestle.”

“Bullshit.” Seungcheol tackles him, sending them both sprawling on the moss.

They surface eventually for the beers and the snacks, the winner of the wrestling match undecided, because it had devolved, as it often does nowadays, into making out.

“So-” Jeonghan starts carefully. “D’you remember the first time we came here.”

Seungcheol eyes him suspiciously,.

“You mean when I literally grew my pussy?”

“Yeah. That time.”

Seungcheol folds his arms, a smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah. I guess I remember that.”

Jeonghan smiles back, then carries on with his spiel.

“You remember how we nearly fucked?” Jeonghan says casually, popping a few peanuts from the snack packet into his mouth.

“You were gonna fuck me before we’d even kissed.”

Jeonghan blushes.

“Come on,” Seungcheol cajoles.“I thought it was hot.”

“You were in heat. You thought everything was hot.”

Seungcheol laughs, but doesn’t disagree. Jeonghan clears his throat again, steeling himself.

“Anyway, I was thinking. Do you want to try again?”

Seungcheol stills.

‘Trying again’ was an argument that he and Seungcheol have been having for over a month. The argument started in the middle of sex, which was, as Jeonghan was learning, where a lot of their arguments began and ended. Jeonghan had just slid inside him and was thrusting lazily when Seungcheol had asked him to shift.

Jeonghan had popped his knot at the thought, and Seungcheol had kept on at it as Jeonghan pumped him full of come. Seungcheol begged him to shift while inside, begged for his human pussy to be split open on Jeonghan’s wolf dick like it nearly had been on the night he presented. Jeonghan had come so hard he saw stars. But as soon as his knot went down, he had wrenched himself from Seungcheol’s body and shut himself away in the bathroom, Seungcheol murmuring apologies through the door.  

When Seungcheol had brought it up again, this time to have a proper conversation about it, Jeonghan flat-out refused. Jeonghan said he was ugly like that, no matter what Seungcheol said. He was far too big. He would hurt Seungcheol. He was scared.

“I just want to see you,” Seungcheol had said to him. “Let me see you, Jeonghan.”

Seungcheol had dropped it, of course he had, but the idea had taken root in Jeonghan’s mind and refused to be excised.

Jeonghan nudges Seungcheol with his toes. Seungcheol is still in shock.

“Jeonghan-” Seungcheol says, and follows it up with nothing else.

“Seungcheol,” Jeonghan retorts.

Seungcheol’s brow is stormy- a very attractive look on him, Jeonghan has always thought. He picks up Jeonghan’s hand and turns it over to kiss his palm.

“Baby- You don’t need to do this.”

Jeonghan had been expecting this.

“I don’t need to. I want to.”

“But you’re scared.”

“That’s right. I’m scared. So what, Choi Seungcheol? I can be scared if I want to be.”

“You really want to?”  

Jeonghan lets Seungcheol hold his gaze even as his heart thunders.

“Cheol-ah, I came so fucking hard the night you even mentioned it.”

“But you said it yourself, you got caught up in the moment. Knot-brain or whatever.”

“Yeah, well, the moment ended and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Seungcheol exhales.

“Really?”

Jeonghan nods.

“Smell me, then.” Jeonghan shakes his hair back and bares his neck. Seungcheol noses into his scent gland and inhales. He kisses there too, travelling up and back down the column of his neck.  Jeonghan can’t help himself either. He noses into Seungcheol’s hair, overcome with the smell of him, with the weight in his arms. Seungcheol smells like cherries and the fresh loamy smell of the earth. Jeonghan kisses over his scent gland and pulls back, the strands of Seungcheol’s hair tickling his nose.

“Cheol, tell me. Do you still want to?”

“You know I want to, alpha.”

Seungcheol undresses Jeonghan slowly. Jeonghan doesn’t have to lift a finger. Seungcheol lays him back against the plush carpet of moss and kisses him all over, until it aches. Arousal builds in Jeonghan as Seungcheol’s scent deepens. Seungcheol grinds himself on Jeonghan’s thigh until Jeonghan grows impatient and sits them up to pull Seungcheol’s clothes off too.

Seungcheol is admiring his hair, stroking it back over his shoulder, watching the strands slip through his fingers over and over.

“My alpha is so beautiful.”

He moves to Jeonghan’s lips, thumbs over them reverently.

“So pretty. The prettiest.” Jeonghan closes his eyes at the touch. He nudges Seungcheol’s fingers away to kiss him on the mouth.

“On your knees? Your back?”

“I don’t care.” Seungcheol tells him, then shakes his head “Just like this.”

Seungcheol lets himself be shifted up, hips guided until Jeonghan is inside him, engulfed in his buttery heat. Being inside Seungcheol never stops being overwhelming. Seungcheol strokes the back of his hand over Jeonghan’s cheek, waiting as Jeonghan gets his bearings. When Jeonghan is ready, he steals a soft kiss, for luck.

Jeonghan breathes deep. He shifts. It’s agony. Jeonghan feels the snap of his collarbones, the cracks of his spine, the lurching as his ribcage widens. And Seungcheol smoothes over his skin where it ripples and reforms. Seungcheol’s fingers follow the trail of sprouting fur up his sternum. His jaw splits apart, and Seungcheol follows the bloody line with kisses. Jeonghan breathes into the pain. It hurts differently, now. Seungcheol holds him close; the touch his anchor. The hot stretch of Seungcheol’s pussy around his cock grows tight, then even tighter, and Seungcheol welcomes it with a sigh. It’s different. It’s different when Seungcheol follows each rip and bleeding tear with a warm and loving hand.

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