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Yoongi jumped up from his seat on the bench when the familiar car finally rolled into the hospital parking lot. He resisted the urge to rush towards it or wave or something ridiculous like that, knowing that wouldn’t make his packmates get there any quicker.
They’d seen him anyway because the car rolled to a stop right next to him and, almost while it was still moving, the back door flew open and Jungkook came tripping out, stumbling forward and pulling Yoongi into his arms.
“Hyung,” he said, pressing Yoongi close. “Omega-hyung. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Kook-ah,” he said, reaching up to hug the young beta back. “Hyung’s fine. A few scratches and I’m a little sore but I’m fine.”
“Let’s get in the car.” This was Namjoon, their alpha, who’d climbed out of the passenger seat and was watching them intently, looking Yoongi over like he expected to find a major burn or something that the paramedics had missed.
There were no major burns. He was surprisingly in one piece. He'd been on one of the lower levels when the fire alarm went off so had been one of the first to spill out into the street when the jammed fire door had been opened, having barely inhaled any smoke at all. He’d been brought to the hospital more as a precaution than anything else. The entire thing felt almost surreal, as though it was too absurd to be true.
The way Jungkook clung to him, the stress on Namjoon’s face, those were real.
“Yes, let’s go,” Jungkook said, loosening his hold to hurry Yoongi towards the car. Yoongi went, sliding into the back seat. Seokjin was driving and he turned to give Yoongi a long, assessing look. The kind of that said once they were alone he’d be expecting a complete debrief because he knew for a fact that sometimes Yoongi would reveal things to Beta-hyung that he didn’t feel he could tell the others.
Then he turned and started the car. Yoongi moved to fasten his seatbelt but Jungkook was already leaning over to do it for him, face anxious, checking it twice before he was satisfied that Yoongi was safe then making quick work of strapping himself in before reaching over to take Yoongi’s hand.
Yoongi wasn’t exactly surprised that this subset of his pack had come for him. He presumed Seokjin and Namjoon pulled seniority as the oldest and pack alpha respectively. Jungkook probably won out by looking sad and ruthlessly exploiting the fact that none of them knew how to say no to him. Jimin had probably made a good run at that, too. He tended to pull the omega card to get them all twisted around his fingers but, then, looking at the stress in the set of Namjoon’s shoulders, he probably wouldn’t have been happy to let Jimin out when one omega was already in danger. Taehyung went where Jimin went so if Jimin stayed home Tae had to and if Jimin and Taehyung were staying in, someone else had to be there to keep an eye on them which was presumably why Hoseok wasn’t there in the back of the car with him.
Still, he had to admit that part of him was very, very impatient for the seven of them to be together again.
Seokjin obviously was too as he drove with a silent determination that was very unlike him. Namjoon mirrored his stance in the passenger seat and Jungkook clung to Yoongi.
And Yoongi closed his eyes and let some of the tension he’d been carrying ease away.
It had been a fucking long day.
It didn’t take the long to reach their home, Seokjin pulling into their familiar spot in the underground parking carefully, cutting the car engine, then immediately springing out of his seat. Yoongi wasn’t surprised when, a second later, his door was pulled open and Seokjin was reaching in, unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling him out, then holding him at arms length for a minute and checking him over.
“I’m really okay,” Yoongi said, trying to make his tone as reassuring as he could. “It’s really just a few scrapes. There was a little bit of panic but I'm fine.”
“It didn’t look-” Seokjin started, then stopped himself abruptly. He seemed to argue with himself for a minute, then stepped in and kissed Yoongi so softly, so carefully, as though he was afraid Yoongi might turn to dust under his hands. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he whispered against Yoongi’s lips.
“Sorry,” Namjoon said, interrupting the moment. Yoongi glanced round and he was stood at the back of the vehicle with Jungkook, still looking anxious, still shifting as though he wanted to burst into action. “I don’t want to ruin the moment but please can we get inside. Please?”
“Of course,” Seokjin said, at the same time Yoongi nodded, reaching out to his pack alpha. Namjoon reached back, taking Yoongi’s hand and pulling him in, tucking him neatly into his side and tightening his arm around him. Yoongi sighed and leant against Namjoon a little. His tiny beanpole of an alpha had gotten big and strong recently and, at times like this, Yoongi appreciated how small and safe it made him feel to stand next to Namjoon like this.
How protected.
“Come on,” Seokjin said, taking point for their little march to safety. Namjoon followed quickly after, keeping Yoongi with him. Yoongi suspected that, if he thought he’d get away with it, he’d have scooped Yoongi up to carry him.
Yoongi absolutely wouldn’t let him get away with it, but it was nice to see the protectiveness there. Though there wasn’t a lot Namjoon could do to protect him from unexpected fires and badly followed fire safety procedure.
Yoongi hadn’t even believed the fire was real for most of it. Not until the smoke started to get into the stairwell. He’d stood complaining with some guy from accounting about badly timed fire drills and how they company was going to get into so much shit for blocking the fire exit. And then there’d been the smoke, and then there’d been the pushing, and the panic, and the desperate spill out into the street.
But he was home and safe now, that was all that mattered.
Jungkook brought up the rear, scanning as though he genuinely expected to see someone approaching them. He didn’t, and they made it to the elevator unharmed, then up to their floor and, finally, into their apartment.
Hoseok appeared as soon as the door opened. He’d likely been waiting just by the hallway and he stepped forward, sweeping Yoongi into a crushing hug.
“Omega-hyung,” he said, pressing them together. “You’re here, you’re okay. He is okay, isn’t he.”
“I can’t speak for myself,” Yoongi protested.
“He says he is,” Namjoon said, right over the top of him. And he said it with a determination that let Yoongi know he wouldn’t believe it for himself until he’d touched Yoongi all over, discovered every scrape and bruise and soreness.
“I’m fine, I was one of the first out. A lot of people had it worse.”
“Hyung!” That was Taehyung.
Anything else Yoongi might have said was lost as Taehyung came running through the doorway and slammed himself into Yoongi and Hoseok. A second later he was followed by Jimin who also latched onto Yoongi and, finally, Yoongi was pressed safely between his pack. Surrounded and safe.
The entire group of them seemed to let go of an unnamed tension, to relax into each other.
He was home. Safe.
“We’re so glad you’re okay, Hyung,” Jimin said, kissing the back of his neck which was about the only piece of Yoongi’s skin he could reach when Yoongi was so draped in pack members. “We were watching on the TV only then it was too scary so we had to change the channel but you’re really okay?”
“It was on the TV?” Yoongi asked, surprised despite himself. It made sense, of course. It had been a major accident. People had died. It’d been in the middle of Seoul. But it was also surreal to think that something to do with himself had been on the television. To think of his loves sat there, watching it, not able to reach out and hold him, to check that he was okay.
They hadn’t even been able to text him, really. He hadn’t charged his phone and he’d turned it off soon after arriving at the hospital to make sure he had enough battery to text then when he was ready to come home.
Perhaps the way they were clinging was justified.
“It was on the TV,” Namjoon agreed, voice cutting through their moment. “Sorry, can I cut in?”
The others fell back obediently, which was in itself a sign of how rattled they were. Not that his pack were ever disrespectful to their alpha but they would try to push a boundary if they thought they could get away with it and they normally loved to tease. And Namjoon normally took it all in good grace but today he was staring right at Yoongi like he wanted to strip him right there in the middle of the hallway.
“Alpha,” Yoongi said, voice barely a breath, and Namjoon swept forward, pulling him into a bone crushing hug.
He went limp instantly, a combination of Namjoon’s scent and just the sheer relief of being back in his alpha’s arms. Of it all being over. Of being home.
“You’re going to crush him,” Seokjin said, appearing at Namjoon’s side. “Let him breathe.”
“I’m not crushing him,” Namjoon protested, hugging a little tighter. Honestly, he was a little but Yoongi more than understood the impulse. “I’m showing the perfectly normal amount of concern an alpha should show when he gets a text from his omega asking to be picked up from the hospital when the only other information he gives you is office fire, I’m fine.”
“I am fine,” Yoongi protested, though he could see how, if they’d been watching the building go up on the news, they might be worried. “You can check, if you want.”
“I’m absolutely going to,” Namjoon said. Then, with one big shuddering breath, relaxed his hold. “Next time, at least call, okay?”
“I was worried my battery was going to run out,” Yoongi grumbled, feeling his face heat. He supposed, if he stopped to think about it, it was a bit alarming to just text like that and disappear. “Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about,” Namjoon said. He stepped back, then leant in to kiss Yoongi softly in a way that felt like an affirmation and a promise. “Nothing at all. You must be hungry, though. Come on, let’s feed you.”
“And wash him,” Jimin chirped from where he’d apparently been loitering at Yoongi’s elbow. “No offense, hyung, but you smell like smoke and other people. Let me wash that off you.”
“Any time,” Yoongi said, holding out his hand to Jimin. Jimin took it, beaming, then gently pulled him out of Namjoon’s arms and through the apartment.
Yoongi had been very cautious about bringing Jimin into their pack. Taehyung had found him, working in a bar and looking like he needed a home and people who actually gave a shit about him. Their courtship had taken a long time. It wasn’t unusual for omegas in a pack together to clash, especially when there was only one alpha. A lot of omegas would have seen it as Jimin coming in and stealing the alpha that was rightfully theirs.
Yoongi had maybe seen it that way for all of thirty minutes, for all the time it took for him to see Park Jimin.
Then he hadn’t minded him at all.
“Here, sit,” Jimin said. They’d made their way to the bathroom and Jimin had made sure the toilet seat was down so Yoongi could sit and rest. He did so gratefully, he was still aching after all. “Bath or shower?”
“Shower,” Yoongi said, wrinkling his nose. He felt dirty, tainted with smoke and sweat and panic. He didn’t want to sit and stew in it, he wanted to wash it all away. Plus, Jimin had led them to the bathroom with the best shower, the one they all competed over because it had the best water pressure.
Jimin hummed in agreement then turned the water on, letting it run for a second then testing it. As he did, Taehyung came wandering in. He didn’t say anything, just moved to put his hand on Yoongi’s shoulder, gently pressing. A firm reminder that he was there.
Yoongi closed his eyes, enjoying the touch. Honestly, he felt like he could have probably just drifted off to sleep like that if they’d let him. It’d been one hell of a day.
Before he could drift, though, Jimin appeared again, brushing Taehyung aside and pulling him up.
“No sleeping,” he grumbled. “Washing first, Hyung. Tae, if you want to be helpful you can take Hyung’s clothes to Jungkook so he can get them washed. They stink too.”
“I think he should just throw them out,” Taehyung said, leaning in to sniff Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi frowned.
“Don’t joke, I like this t-shirt.”
“How can you possibly tell it from all your other white t-shirts?”
“I can tell,” Yoongi said, a hint of threat in his voice. Jimin snorted but didn’t contradict him, just pulled gently at the hem to untuck it from Yoongi’s trousers then unbuttoned it and pushed it too Yoongi’s shoulders. Taehyung helped and he was soon naked and being pushed under the water, Taehyung disappearing off with his clothes. He stood there for a minute under the spray, letting the water pressure work out some of the knots in his back, then Jimin slid in with him and pressed up against him.
“Better,” he purred, pressing his nose to Yoongi’s scent gland under the water. “Not enough, though. Need you to smell like pack.”
“Smelling like pack would be nice,” Yoongi agreed, leaning against Jimin. “Fuck, Jimin-ah, it’s been a long day.”
“I know, my poor Hyung,” Jimin said, squeezing him tightly. “Let’s get you properly washed, okay?”
Yoongi nodded, then stood there under the water and let Jimin do the rest for him, something that Jimin was more than happy to do. He started with a scalp massage and hair wash, a more laborious process with Yoongi’s longer hair. He kept making noises about cutting it but every time he did everyone looked as though he’d just suggested kicking puppies for fun so it’d stayed. And it wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy his long hair. And, well, it made them happy. He’d do anything to make them happy. His pack.
His loves.
Jimin washed him all over with scent-free body wash, all the better to let the pack’s scent cling to him without any artificial scents getting in the way and diluting it. He was dedicated to massaging as much as cleaning and by the time Yoongi stumbled out of the shower and into the arms of Hoseok, who had appeared with a giant fluffy tower to catch him, he was made of mostly goo.
“Ah, Jimin, you’ve melted him,” Hoseok said, gathering Yoongi into a giant towel hug and squeezing him tight.
“He did,” Yoongi agreed. “My bones are mush.”
“Poor Hyung,” Hoseok said, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.
“Hey,” Jimin protested, following them out of the shower. “Don’t scent him yet. I spent a lot of time washing the day off, I want to be the first one to scent him.”
“Demanding,” Hoseok said with a sigh, but he didn’t move on to scenting Yoongi, just pulled up the towel and rubbed him dry and then, when Yoongi emerged, Jimin was there, dried himself and crowding into Yoongi’s space, pressing in and rubbing their scent glands together.
And fuck, Yoongi loved scenting. Of course, everyone loved scenting, but there was the normal amount of loving scenting and then there was how much Yoongi loved scenting. He couldn’t help the rumble of a purr spilling out of him as Jimin rubbed against him, something he’d always been a little ashamed of until Jimn joined them, until the first time Jimin purred back.
He purred back now, rubbing his scent all over Yoongi’s neck, taking Yoongi’s scent for himself. Marking them as belonging to each other, two parts of the same whole.
“Hyung, you’re always so cute when you scent,” Hoseok said, a little dreamily. Yoongi opened eyes that had drifted shut and took a second to look at his expression, the longing in there, then he reached for him, catching him and pulling him gently closer.
Jimin, apparently conceding that he had to be shared, slid back a little and let Hoseok join them, pressing his own neck to Yoongi and layering on his scent. Yoongi shuddered, then slid into his arms. His Hoseok-ah. His first beta, when they’d been stupid kids and it had just been him, Hoseok and Namjoon against the whole wide world.
Hoseok’s scent was as familiar as his own and he fell into it easily, letting his eyes drift shut and Hoseok hold him up.
He was home. Safe and home.
“Ah, Hyung, we’ve been so scared,” Hoseok said, finally abandoning his scent gland to move up and kiss him softly instead. “Don’t do that to us again, okay?”
“I mean, I don’t think I was the one who set the fire,” Yoongi grumbled, chasing Hoseok’s lips for another kiss. Hoseok was the meanest, though, and not willing to be indulgent until he’d done with his scolding.
“You couldn’t avoid the fire, maybe, but you could have had made sure your phone was charged. Then you could have called us to come get you, actually talked to us. We just… we know you’d never want to worry us and sometimes that makes it hard, when we can’t hear your voice, to know if you’re telling the truth when you say you’re fine or if you’re trying to get away without any attention.”
“I don’t do that any more,” Yoongi protested. “Hoseok, you know I don’t do that any more, right? I promised.”
“I know you promised,” Hoseok said, with the heavy sigh of someone who’d been through Yoongi promising multiple times. “I know you’d only be trying to protect us.”
“Hey,” Yoongi said, biting down on his distress. Hoseok was so obviously hurting, and Yoongi had done that to him. Not intentionally but he had, and maybe it should have been an old hurt by now, they’d certainly had it out often enough, but whatever it should have been, it was clearly still hurting him. “I meant it, Hoseok. I promise. I was just trying to protect you all but we’ve talked, right, and I know that what I was doing was hurting you. I won’t do that any more. I won’t hide. And yes, I’ll take better care to make sure my phone’s charged. I promise I was going to charge it right when I got back to my desk, but I won’t put it off and let it get so bad next time.”
Hoseok watched him for a moment, his eyes as sharp as they had been before, when Yoongi had been overworking himself, hurting himself, and hiding it from them all. Then the softened, and he leant in close to press his nose against Yoongi’s scent gland, breathing him in.
“Okay,” he said, softly. “I believe you, hyung.”
“Thank you,” Yoongi said, relaxing again. “I’ll work hard to prove it to you, okay?”
“I know you will,” Hoseok said. He pulled back quickly then, pressed his hands to his face for a second, and when he looked up his smile was back in place. Of course. Yoongi couldn’t expect to fix all the hurt there in one conversation, especially not when he was already exhausted.
They’d made a start, though. Hoseok had decided to trust him. That was something.
He’d do everything he could to be worthy of Hoseok’s trust.
They didn’t get much longer together before the bathroom door opened again, Taehyung sticking his head around.
“Are you two done?” he asked, stepping into the room. “I brought clothes.”
“My hero,” Yoongi said, grinning. He reached out and wasn’t at all surprised when Taehyung didn’t hand him anything of his own but a slightly worn t-shirt of Namjoon’s and nothing else. He sighed and pulled it on, supposing that he should be happy that it was only slightly worn and not one he’d worn to the gym and not washed. “Gonna come here and scent me.”
“Going to take you to the nest and scent you,” Taehyung said, reaching for his hand. “Me and Jimin did some remodeling while… We just moved a few things around. Come see if you like it.”
Yoongi didn’t miss the way Taehyung avoided mentioning the accident and he squeezed Taehyung’s hand tightly as he was towed out of the bathroom.
He could hear signs of life in the apartment, but nobody stopped them as Taehyung lead him through to their nest room.
And yes, there’d clearly been some nervous redecoration.
The room was traditional to an extent, the bulk of it built out with a wooden base filled with a giant mattress. They’d all made it their own, though. The ceiling was painted like a night sky, complete with stars and galaxies and commets and, for some reason, a whale. Jungkook had painted the walls in a gradient, lightening the inky blue of the night sky down to a soft blue at the bottom. They’d bought a load of fairy lights and USB light strips, running some of them up to an anchor point on the roof where the main light fitting used to be until they’d all agreed it was too harsh. There were normally drapes hung over the lines of lights, Taehyung had swapped out the ones that had been hanging that morning for the wispy white ones that he always said looked like clouds.
The bed itself he’d clearly stripped as that morning’s purple blankets had been swapped out to yoongi’s favorite, the greens that felt like the earth to their painted sky. Brown sheets below, the ground, somewhere safe for Yoongi’s to land.
“You’ve been busy,” he commented, climbing the steps and crawling across the mattress. Changing the entire bedding set normally took all of them and a lot of time. There were a lot of cushions and things, after all. And blankets, so many blankets.
They’d arranged the big bolster pillows along the walls, which Yoongi didn’t mind but it blocked the light from the LED strips. They’d clearly set up the nest with the intention that they’d all share it that night, never a given with a pack as large as theirs. There were lots of spare sheets stacked in the back corners, cushions positioned at the sides for pillows, Jungkook’s special favorite blanket just peeking out in the back corner, allowed in though it didn’t match the colour scheme.
Taehyung was watching him, wearily.
As though he really thought Yoongi might not like what he’d done.
And sure, perhaps it wasn’t set up exactly how Yoongi would have done it, if Taehyung wasn’t standing there looking at him with big, earnest eyes he’d probably have moved things around. But Taehyung was standing there, looking at him like that.
He turned and flopped down, head on one of the pillows, right in the middle of the bed. Then he smiled at Taehyung.
“It’s perfect,” he said, sincerely, because it was perfect in all the ways that mattered. “Want to come over and scent me?”
“You really like it?” Taehyung asked, taking a step towards the nest. “You’re not just saying it.”
“I really like it, Taehyung-ah. Now come over here and scent hyung. I need to smell like pack, right?”
“Right,” Taehyung agreed, and he was apparently feeling more settled in himself now because he bounced across the space between them like a puppy and dropped down right on top of Yoongi, knocking the breath out of him. He didn’t complain, though, just looped his arms around his beta’s neck and tilted his head to the side to give Taehyung access, which he took enthusiastically. He’d clearly been worried, which was oddly flattering. Yoongi wouldn’t have said Taehyung was the person in his pack he was closest to, but he did love him. Loved his strangeness and his artistic soul and the way he was unashamedly himself.
It had taken Yoongi a lot longer to reach the same place.
They lay there for a good long while, Taehyung first scenting him, then just lying on top of him in the nest, being close to him, his nose pressed near Yoongi’s scent gland. Yoongi took to stroking his hair and staring up at their starry ceiling. His nest, his pack, his safe place.
They stayed like that until someone else shuffled into the room. Jungkook, wearing an oversized sweater and hunched over like he was trying to look like the tiny little maknae they’d first met and not the wall of muscle he was these days.
Looking, in fact, rather like he needed Hyung to comfort him.
“Come on,” Yoongi said, patting Taehyung’s head. “Your turn’s over. Jungkook-ah, come over here.”
“Is that okay?” Jungkook asked, nervously edging up the first few steps to the bed. “I can come back.”
“No, it’s okay,” Taehyung said, sounding more like himself. “I’m going to go annoy the others. Jungkook, look after Hyung, okay?”
“Okay,” Jungkook said, pouting a little and yes, he wasn’t there to look after anyone. He was there to be looked after. Yoongi rolled over and grabbed the blanket Taehyung had hidden away, Jungkook’s favourite. Jungkook pouted when he saw it, but he did finally climb all the way up onto the bed.
“How are you feeling, Hyung?”
“I’m fine, come here and let me hug you.”
“You don’t need to,” Jungkook protested, shifting across the bed. Yoongi snorted, then shook out his blanket and threw it around Jungkook’s shoulders, smiling as it settled nicely over him. “I should be comforting you. Hyung, you were in a fire!”
“I know,” Yoongi said, smiling. “And you’re going to comfort me by coming over here to cuddle and scent. Just indulge me, yeah? It’s been a scary day for you too, right?”
“A little,” Jungkook admitted. Yoongi lay back and Jungkook obligingly came closer, curling up next to him, pulling his head in Yoongi’s shoulders. “We just… we were worried. And we couldn’t even do anything. Normally when someone in the pack is hurting I can do something, at least. But we didn’t even really know what was going on with you and it all looked horrible on the news. People really got hurt!”
“They did,” Yoongi agreed, thinking about the smoke, the screaming, the sense of panic when he’d realised what was happening. “I’m fine, though. It was… a lot of people were scared, some were really hurt. It was all confusing and loud. You’d have probably done really well, Jungkookie. You’d have got lots of people out. I…I helped one of the aunties who works in the cafeteria. She wasn’t really shook up. I helped her down the stairs when people were pushing, sat with her after. Some people were trying to run back into the building to save other but I… I just sat with her.” He honestly didn’t know if he’d done it more to comfort her or himself. But she hadn’t been willing to let go of his hand once he’d stopped to help her instead of pushing past her where she’d been wedged into a corner and he hadn’t wanted to let go either, hadn’t wanted to run back into danger.
“I’m sure she was really grateful for you, Hyung,” Jungkook said, so soft and sincere. “And maybe it’s selfish but I’m really glad you stayed out once you got out, that you didn’t try to go back for anyone else. I’m so glad you’re safe.”
“Me too,” Yoongi said, then sighed and pulled Jungkook closer to him. His baby. They’d known Jungkook long before he became pack. Had known they were going to invite him into the pack before he presented. They’d waited years and years, he was a late bloomer, then he’d turned up one day a beta. Yoongi hadn’t expected that, for some reason. He’d thought omega, perhaps, since he was so sweet and obliging and just seemed to soak up everyone’s love and give it back tenfold.
But, then, maybe he’d just been a stereotypical shit. Jungkook was a very good beta. He was just clearly sometimes pretty uncomfortable with being a beta, as though it meant he couldn’t be Yoongi’s any more.
He’d always be Yoongi’s.
“Come on,” he said, eventually, jostling Jungkook from his resting position. “Give hyung your scent, okay? Jimin says I’ve got to smell like pack.”
“You do need to smell like pack,” Jungkook agreed. He seemed a little more sure of himself when he moved, looming over Yoongi for a second before starting to scent him in earnest. Yoongi closed his eyes and drifted again, content to lay there and be scented for as long as Jungkook needed it.
He got in a good, long scenting before Seokjin interrupted them.
“Ah, here you are,” he said. “Lounging around scenting when I’ve been slaving away over a hot stove.”
“Sorry, Hyung,” Jungkook said, jumping up. “I’m… do you need me to help? I can take the food out, if I’m too late to cook.” Seokjin’s fake outrage melted instantly in the face of Jungkook’s sincerity.
“Ah, it’s fine, Jungkook-ah. Everything’s ready. Go sit, I’ll bring Yoongi through in a minute.”
“Sure,” Jungkook said, scuttling off, not seeming to pause to think what might take them a minute and why they weren’t coming right away.
Yoongi met Seokjin’s eyes. His Hyung. His only Hyung, the only one he could look to for the kind of comfort that one needed from someone older.
He tilted his neck to the side, exposing his scent gland.
Seokjin was there in a second, climbing on top of him and scenting him almost aggressively. Yes, this had been a stressful day for Hyung too. As well as worrying about Yoongi, he’d probably been dealing with the worries of the rest of the pack, pushing his own needs aside to soothe their worries.
But it was okay now. Now, they were all safe.
He didn’t linger over the scenting like the others had, but it felt as definitive, just as much of a claiming, and when he leant back from it he grinned.
“There, now never do that to me again. Do you know how hard it’s been to make puns about a fire? And nobody’s laughed at any of them.”
“Yours is the hardest lot,” Yoongi agreed, earning him a genuine smile. He reached up, hands landing on Seokjin’s shoulders, intending to use them to pull himself up. But Seokjin surprised him by leaning in again, not to scent this time but to kiss, a deep searching kiss that stole Yoongi’s breath and reminded him that he was the one being looked after here, the one being comforted.
When Seokjin pulled back, he looked very pleased with himself indeed.
“Right, come on,” he said, grabbing Yoongi before he could protest and pulling him up to sitting. “Food, then bed. You’ve got to be exhausted.”
“I am,” Yoongi agreed. He shuffled towards the edge of the nest and, when he got there, Seokjin pulled him up again then, after a second’s hesitation, lifted him. Yoongi squawked indignantly at suddenly being in the air and Seokjin started to complain loudly about how awkward this was and how Yoongi was so difficult to carry. But they clung to each other anyway, Yoongi’s legs locking around Seokjin’s hips, his arms wrapping around his too-wide shoulders, and they stumbled through to where the others were waiting.
Seokjin had obviously been stress cooking because there was so much food. Yoongi ended up sitting between Seokjin and Jungkook, though if he was actually more in Seokjni’s lap than between anyone, nobody commented on it.
In return, Yoongi didn’t comment on the fact that all the best pieces of meat, the most delicious vegetables, seemed to find their way to his mouth, often without need of a plate first but fed to him from his love’s chopsticks. He could hardly complain about what he knew well enough to recognise as one of his own acts of love reflected back at him.
And Seokjin had worked so hard on the meal. And it was very good.
Still, by the end of it, he was starting to flag, letting the conversation roll over him more often than engaging in it and resting with his head on Seokjin’s shoulder, eyes drifting closed, content to let the others care for him. To let Seokjin shelter him.
Seokjin had always been good at that, after all. They were so different, Seokjin lighthearted and silly to Yoongi’s habit of always taking things too heavily, of taking himself too seriously. But they balanced well. Seokjin had a way with Yoongi, even in his darkest moods. When he’d joined them, just him, Hoseok and Namjoon at the time, he’d brought a lightness, a joy that they’d somehow been lacking. Not that they hadn’t been happy, just that Seokjin showed them new, extra ways to show that, to love each other.
And Yoongi loved him. Loved them all.
“Alright,” Namjoon said, raising his voice over the table. “I think it must be nearly time to sleep. Let’s get all of this cleaned up then everyone in the nest tonight, okay?”
They all murmured their consent, Yoongi had thought it went without saying. They didn’t all sleep in the nest every night, sometimes preferring different beds for privacy or time with just one or two of their mates or just because they were coming to bed late and didn’t want to disturb the others. But tonight, they needed to be in the nest.
Yoongi wasn’t surprised when Namjoon didn’t help with the cleaning but came round to collect him. Pulling him to his feet then scooping him up in his arms like Seokjin had done. Or, well, with more grace and strength than Seokjin had done because Seokjin didn’t have a gym fixation but, still, the principal was the same. Yoongi lifted up like a delicate, pampered omega from some fairy tale whose feet weren’t even allowed to touch the ground.
Not that he minded. Not when it was Namjoon carrying him.
“Come on,” Namjoon said, holding him tight. “Let’s get you ready for bed.”
Yoongi didn’t protest, just nodded as Namjoon carried him back through to the bathroom, this time setting him down by the sink and giving him his toothbrush and toothpaste. Yoongi didn’t argue, brushing his teeth obediently and watching while Namjoon did the same, enjoying the shared intimacy of their little moment.
Because that was their thing, him and Namjoon. Small shared intimacies. They’d been together for so many years, through so much shit, they almost didn’t need the big gestures any more. Not that they didn’t take care of each other, but sometimes Yoongi felt like everything that needed to be said between them had already been said.
But there were still these. The small intimacies. The soft moments of togetherness that felt filled up with their love. The way they moved together without needing to talk, the feel of Namjoon’s hands on his hips as he negotiated the room around Yoongi, the familiarity of it, the tenderness.
And fuck, suddenly Yoongi was fighting back tears. He quickly bit at the inside of his cheek to try and shock them away. But how close had he been to losing this? If he’d been at his desk right on the top floor like he should have been, if he hadn’t headed straight for the stairs when he’d heard the alarm
He’d seen at least one person from his team taken away on a stretcher, actually desperately needing the medical attention. He hadn’t heard from the rest of them yet. He’d have to pick that up in the morning, letting his boss know that he’d made it out okay and seeing what needed to be done.
Maybe he should have done it at the time. He’d felt like he was in shock, though. Sat on the street in his shirt sleeves with the auntie from the kitchen clutching his hand, sobbing, watching the flames in the upper stories, listening to the shouting of the firefighters, seeing the skip that had been moved, blocking their only escape. Thinking how close it had been, how lucky he was to be sat there, coughing, clinging to a stranger.
And he wished, now, that he’d phoned Namjoon then. Namjoon would have come, he was sure, and held him on the side of the road. Would have been with him at the hospital. At the time it had all felt like it was unreal, like he was outside time and wouldn’t be able to reach anyone even if he’d tried.
But Namjoon could have been there. Would have been there, if Yoongi could have reached.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Namjoon said, noticing Yoongi losing his fight with his tears. “It’s okay now, you’re safe now.”
Yoongi nodded, not trusting his voice. He knew he was safe now, knew he was okay. Still, he wanted the reassurance of Namjoon’s arms around him and, when he reached, was glad to find Namjoon already reaching back, pulling him in tight and holding him. Yoongi’s rock, first a solid point to push against, then to tether himself to. Immovable, a fixed point in Yoongi’s universe.
His alpha.
“It’s okay,” let it out now,” Namjoon said, voice low and soft. “Let alpha take it. It’s okay now, you’re safe.”
And Yoongi clung tighter, letting his fingers anchor themselves in Namjoon’s flesh, pressing his face to Namjoon’s skin.
He was safe. He was home. It had been terrifying, he’d thought in some moments that he was going to die, or be so hurt he might as well have. But he’d survived. He was fine. He was there with his alpha, the rest of their pack quietly getting ready for sleep just outside the door. He was safe, loved, held.
Home.
“Come on,” Namjoon said, scooping him up. “Let’s get you into the nest. Let’s get your settled.”
Yoongi nodded, though he was kind of only half way through brushing his teeth. That seemed unimportant as he let Namjoon carry him to bed. The room was blessedly empty, so far. The others still getting ready. Namjoon probably needed to go get ready too, he was still in his street clothes. Yoongi wasn’t ready to let go, though, and Namjoon didn’t seem to mind, carrying him to the middle of the bed then laying down. He grabbed some of the sheets, bunching them up around Yoongi so he was warm, snug, then he nosed Yoongi’s head to the side and finally found his scent gland.
Getting scented by any member of the pack was amazing, but getting scented by alpha was on an entirely different level. Yoongi’s body hummed with it, hormones whizzing through his system to produce enough scent, to pump it out strongly enough. It was almost euphoric, enough to stop the slow roll of his tears, to push the fire right out of his head.
It was over, after all, and he was safe.
Safe and loved.
“I love you,” he whispered. Namjoon made an affirming kind of rumble, not willing to lift his attention from what he was doing. Yoongi didn’t mind. He could carry on doing that forever.
Eventually, the rest of them drifted in. Jimin, first, who settled right next to Yoongi, snuggled up and took a long breath. And Yoongi hoped he smelt enough of pack because he couldn’t be any more scented, any more theirs.
Namjoon came up from his scenting at the intrusion, kissing them both and slipping away to change, leaving Jimin to kiss the last traces of the tears from Yoongi’s cheeks and curl up beside him.
“There,” he said, softly. “Better now?”
“All better,” Yoongi agreed. “Do I smell like pack?”
“You smell like home,” Jimin said, smiling softly. “You should smell like this always.”
“I think my boss might complain if I walk in smelling this strongly of pack,” Yoongi said, smiling indulgently.
“Well, it’s a good job you’re not going in tomorrow. None of us are, actually. Namjoon called us all in.”
“Jimin…”
“I don’t think any of us are quite ready to let you out of our sights yet so you’ll just have to be a good boy and tolerate it, yes?”
“Fine,” Yoongi said, subsiding. He didn’t like the thought of them all missing work for him, but they did have a point. This wasn’t just about what he wanted, but what they all needed. And what he needed, too. Because maybe he needed this as much as they did. “Love you.”
“I love you too,” Jimin said.
And then Namjoon was back, out of his street clothes and bringing Jungkook and Taehyung with him. Yoongi ended up in the middle of Namjoon and Jimin, held from both sides, pressed in and kept safe and comfortable, Taehyung and Jungkook nearby, close enough that he could reach for them if he needed them.. Seokjin and Hoseok followed soon after, closing down the house around them until the only light left was the soft glow of the LED lights on their nest.
And finally, Yoongi’s exhaustion won. He slid into sleep to the gentle mumbles, the soft I love yous and goodnights of all the people he loved best.
Home.