Chapter Text
Felix enters the kitchen, heading for the fridge to get a refill of mango juice for Hyunjin and himself. He’s spent a good part of the afternoon in Hyunjin’s studio again, watching the alpha paint from the window nook and listening to the quiet sound of brush strokes on canvas. It’s relaxing. It’s one of his favourite spots in the house, other than Jeongin’s room and his nest.
He’s just grabbed the juice from the fridge when he hears Chan’s voice from the living room, a low murmur. He can’t tell what he’s saying, but he walks over, figuring he might as well offer Chan some juice too.
As he gets closer, Chan’s voice becomes more clear.
“—to the right, love? Yes, there you go. You still comfy? Oh, perfect. Doing so well, I.N.-nie.”
He frowns in confusion, and then as he reaches the archway, he freezes. Chan is sitting in an armchair, and Jeongin is on his knees in between his spread legs. For a second, Felix thinks he’s walked in on a blowjob. But then he realises that Chan is fully clothed, and Jeongin’s eyes are glassy, and his blood turns to ice.
This isn’t sex.
This is much, much worse.
Jeongin is in subspace.
Felix’s lungs tighten, and he can’t breathe. Chan sent Jeongin into subspace, and Jeongin is vulnerable, and Chan is going to… he’s going to—
“Go on then, pet,” Alpha says, in that same soothing, steady tone he’s used all evening.
Felix blinks at him, swaying and feeling miles away. He feels untethered, and Alpha’s voice is the only anchor he can find. He clings on to it desperately.
“You can do it for me, can’t you? I know you’re stupid, but you can do as Alpha says, yeah?”
The words make Felix feel cold, but Alpha’s tone is sweet, is kind, and he wants to be good. He wants to be good so badly. He nods, and Alpha smiles at him.
“Then get in. We’re going to play a little game.”
Felix’s limbs feel heavy and sluggish. He doesn’t want to move. He doesn’t want to play a game. He wants Alpha to just hold him. To keep him warm, and let him rest, and tell him he’s good. But maybe he hasn’t been good enough yet. Maybe after he does what Alpha wants him to do, Alpha will hold him.
With effort, he clambers into the bathtub. His right foot accidentally hooks on the edge and he tumbles into it with a loud thump. Alpha clucks behind him, and Felix presses himself to the floor in apology. He’s been bad. Alpha will be angry.
“Alpha’s brought you a gift, pet.”
Alpha doesn’t sound angry. Very slowly, Felix lifts his head. Alpha isn’t angry. Alpha is holding out Felix’s favourite nesting blanket, and his scent is kind.
“Take it,” Alpha says, crouching next to the tub and holding it out to Felix.
Felix hesitantly holds out his hands, and Alpha places the blanket into them.
“You want to build a nest, pet?”
Felix nods, fingers itching in desperation. It has been so long.
“Words, omega.”
Felix flinches. He fights for control over his tongue. “Yes, Alpha.” His words are a little slurred. He’s never been good at talking when he feels like this, and he knows Alpha hates it.
But this time, Alpha smiles. “Alright then. Go ahead.”
Felix doesn’t wait another second. He spreads the blanket out on the floor of the tub, smoothing it out. It is the softest blanket in the house, and a tiny part of him warms at finally feeling it against his skin again.
Alpha snaps his fingers next to his ear so Felix will jump and look up at him, and he finds him holding out a pillow. One of the soft pillows, the ones that don’t have any hard ridges that hurt when Felix rubs his cheek against it.
Felix reaches out with a desperate little whine, and Alpha chuckles. “There you go. Even a useless little thing like you can’t fuck this up.”
Felix ignores the flicker of cold that splashes through him at the words and focuses on the tone instead. The tone, and the feeling of the nesting materials sliding soft and smooth through his fingers as he places them around him in the tub. Alpha is giving him a lot. Alpha is giving him so many this time, and he isn’t even taking any away, so maybe Felix really has been good. Maybe Felix will finally get to sleep in his nest, a real nest, a safe nest—
“Finished, pet?”
Felix looks up, pupils dilated, and nods. He sends Alpha a hesitant smile. “Good?”
Alpha raises an eyebrow. “Do you think you’ve been good?”
Felix blinks. His mind feels too slow to answer complicated questions. Alpha had spent so long sending pheromones at him, and everything is all fuzzy now, and he doesn’t quite understand what Alpha is asking.
Something in Alpha’s expression changes. “I said,” he repeats, leaning in. “Do you think you’ve been good?”
“Yes, Alpha?” Felix tries, stomach clenching. Alpha only gives him the soft blanket when he’s been good. So that means he has been, right?
“Does a good pet brag about being good?” Alpha asks, and Felix doesn’t understand the question but he understands that tone full well. That had been the wrong answer. Alpha is mad now.
“’M sorry, Alpha,” he mumbles, clasping his hands together. “I can be good. I can be good.”
“I know you can,” Alpha croons, leaning in to brush a finger across Felix’s cheek. Felix shivers, leaning in purely on instinct. He still feels so floaty, and it is scary, and if he can just touch something real, he might not fall this time. “Which is why you will stay right here until I tell you to come out.”
He gets to stay in the nest? Felix nods immediately. “Yes, Alpha.” He chases Alpha’s hand as it withdraws, until Alpha flicks him on the chin and Felix shrinks back.
“Alright then, pet.” Alpha smiles at him, and Felix smiles back, relieved to have been given a second chance.
Felix stares dazedly at the walls of his nest, stroking one of the pillows. He feels untethered, but the nest. The nest is real. The nest is safe.
There’s the sound of water.
For a moment, Felix doesn’t even know what is happening. And then the water soaks through his trousers, and he looks down. There is water in his nest. There is water covering his favourite blanket, and Felix panics, trying to sweep it off. But it isn’t working. There is too much water, and it just keeps coming, rising until it reaches Felix’s thighs. He whines, his head spinning. This is wrong. This is wrong, the nest had been safe, and now—
He whines helplessly up at Alpha, who has risen to his feet with a smile. “Isn’t that better, pet? All nice and clean?”
Felix sobs. The water is cold, and he shivers. “No. No, Alpha, please—”
Alpha leans closer, and all at once his scent shifts, going from sweet to furious in the blink of an eye. Felix’s vision swims, and he gropes blindly for something to hold on to, but there is nothing. There is nothing but emptiness as his mind slips and he falls, tumbling down and down and down—
Woodsmoke.
Woodsmoke, soft and worried and kind, curling around him in a tantalising offer of comfort. But he can’t, right, because he is falling, because Alpha will—
“Lix-ah?” someone asks in front of him, very softly. “Can you look at me?”
Felix’s breath hitches. The voice is kind. Familiar. Alpha’s voice had been kind before, but not… not like this. Not this kind. This is different.
“Can I touch you, Lix-ah?” the voice asks.
Lix-ah.
Alpha never called him that.
This isn’t Alpha.
He blinks, and very slowly, the room comes back into focus. There’s someone in front of him. Changbin. Changbin is there, brown eyes serious and concerned and full of the same kindness that’s in his voice.
“Hyung,” Felix gasps, reaching out a shaking hand. Changbin grasps it and draws Felix closer. Felix falls into him, dropping his forehead to Changbin’s shoulder. “Hyung.” His tears soak Changbin’s sweater, and he draws in desperate breaths of the beta’s scent.
Changbin hugs him close. “I’m here,” he murmurs, releasing more soothing woodsmoke. “You’re alright.”
Felix shakes in his embrace, and Changbin tightens his arms. It helps. It’s grounding. Changbin is warm, and Changbin is real. “You’re okay,” Changbin keeps saying. “I’ve got you, you’re safe.”
It takes a while for Felix to come back, to ground himself enough with the aid of Changbin’s touch and scent to remember where he is and what happened. The moment he does, his head snaps back up to look over Changbin’s shoulder. “Innie.”
“Innie is right here,” Chan says softly from the armchair, one hand resting in Jeongin’s hair. “Innie is fine.”
Felix stares. Jeongin’s eyes are still glassy. He is still in subspace. He is not fine. His breath quickens.
Changbin twists them around so Felix’s back is against his chest and they can both look out into the room. He hooks his head over Felix’s shoulder. “Can you look closer, Lix-ah? How does he look? What does he smell like?”
Felix’s hands clench. “He’s- he’s in—”
“I know,” Changbin says with a gentle squeeze. “But what does he smell like?”
Felix inhales, more because he needs the oxygen than to check Jeongin’s scent, but when he does, he gets his first good whiff of Jeongin’s pheromones.
There’s the unmistakable floatiness of subspace, but beyond that…
Peace. Contentment. Relaxation.
Felix blinks.
“Can you see how relaxed he is?” Changbin asks. “Hyung’s really good at those scalp scratches, right? Look, Innie is practically melting.”
Felix watches. Jeongin is melting, leaning into Chan’s hand, eyes half-closed. He looks relaxed. He looks happy.
“He is okay,” Chan says, still quiet. “I promise I would never hurt him, Felix.”
Felix looks properly at Chan for the first time, and feels a rush of shame. No. Of course Chan wouldn’t. Chan has never hurt anyone. Of course he wouldn’t hurt Jeongin. But Jeongin is in subspace, and to Felix, subspace is synonymous with pain. Those two notions, Chan being good and Jeongin being spaced by Chan, create a screeching, confusing paradox in his brain.
“He’s okay?” Felix whispers.
“Do you want to come closer and check?” Chan asks.
When Felix nods, fingers itching to reach for Jeongin and make sure he’s safe, Chan holds up a finger. “One second, please. Innie chose to do this here so he will have been okay with you seeing it, but if I’m going to bring you in, I want to check with him first.”
Felix stares at Chan, baffled.
Chan cups Jeongin’s cheeks. “I.N.-ah?”
Jeongin’s eyes, which have been staring blankly at Chan’s thigh the whole time, flick up to Chan’s face. “Yeah?”
Chan doesn’t demand a proper greeting, and instead only smiles. “Hi, sweetheart. I have a question. I’m going to count you up halfway, okay? Only to five.”
He talks slowly and waits patiently until Jeongin has registered the words and murmured an agreement before continuing. “Good. One.”
“One,” Jeongin repeats, after a pause.
“Two.”
“Two.”
Chan counts Jeongin up to five, and whatever his counting had done, Felix can smell Jeongin’s scent sharpening even from here. Not completely, it’s still floaty, but it’s clear enough that Felix can tell Jeongin is more aware. “Good job,” Chan tells him. “Question: Binnie and Lixie are here. And Lixie got a little startled when he spotted us.” That’s an understatement, but Felix is glad for it. He doesn’t want Jeongin to panic the way he did, especially not while he’s down. He is agonisingly familiar with how terrible that feels. “Can he come closer to see that you’re okay?”
“Lixie.” Jeongin tries to turn his head, but Chan gently taps his cheek.
“Eyes on me, love. Answer my question, please? You can say no if you’d rather have privacy.”
Jeongin looks back at Chan. “Lixie can come.”
Chan smiles. “Alright. Good job, Innie.” Jeongin smiles back, and Chan beckons Felix over.
Felix hesitantly steps out of Changbin’s arms to move to Jeongin. “Hey, Innie,” he says softly, lowering himself to his knees.
Jeongin beams at him, eyes wide and glassy. “Hi.”
“Are you okay?” Felix asks, taking Jeongin’s hand and bringing his other hand up to brush through Jeongin’s silky black hair.
Jeongin hums, leaning into the touch.
Felix breathes him in. Jeongin smells happy. Content. Vulnerable and open, but peaceful.
“How’re you feeling, I.N.-ah?” Chan asks. He’s shifted to the edge of his seat, staying as close as possible without fully getting up. “Can hyung get your colour?”
“Green,” Jeongin sighs happily, rubbing his cheek against Felix’s wrist. “Lixie smells good.”
Changbin laughs from the archway, and Felix flushes. Chan smiles. “Do you wanna come back up? Or stay like this for a bit?”
In answer, Jeongin merely curls into a ball and lets himself fall against the chair right in the spot between Felix’s body and Chan’s legs. The chair is a little farther away than Jeongin anticipated and Chan’s hand comes down to his shoulder, pulling him back against his legs to make sure he doesn’t fall. “Alright,” Chan says softly. “Let me know when you wanna come back, Jeonginnie. No rush.”
Jeongin hums, and tips his head against Felix’s arm. They sit like this for a while, long minutes passing as Felix’s heartbeat slowly calms down with every deep breath of Jeongin’s peaceful scent. Felix strokes Jeongin’s hair, some of the cold leaving his body. Jeongin is here. He’s safe. Felix won’t let him fall.
Eventually, Jeongin sighs, “Up, hyung.”
“Alright, love. Gonna count up to ten this time. Move your fingers for me.” Chan holds his hand out and starts counting, and with every count, he waits for Jeongin to tap a different finger against his palm. As they get closer to ten, Jeongin’s scent and expression change into something more aware, more present, until at “ten” he blinks and gets rid of the last of the glassiness. He takes a deep breath in, and then looks up, taking stock of himself.
“How are you doing, Innie?” Chan asks, at the same time Jeongin turns to Felix.
“Hey,” Jeongin tells him, smiling at him. Then he spots the dried tear tracks on Felix’s face, and his face twists. “Oh no, Felix.”
“Innie. I need an answer.”
“I’m fine,” Jeongin says, shrugging Chan’s hand off his shoulder. He doesn’t take his eyes away from Felix. “Felix, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
“Are you?” Felix asks. “That was…” That was unexpected. He’s never seen Jeongin submit, aside from that one time with Minho in the kitchen, and that had been nothing like this.
Jeongin flushes. “Yeah. I don’t… do this often. Especially not here.” His eyes flicker to Changbin, who is still leaning against the archway, and his cheeks darken further. Still, he looks at Felix and continues. “But sometimes it’s… nice. Today I just… Hyung offered, and I thought, sure.”
“Because you were stressed,” Chan says. “I know you usually don’t want this, but I thought it might help.”
“It did,” Jeongin admits quietly. “Thanks.”
Felix hesitates. “It didn’t… It didn’t hurt?”
“No,” Jeongin says, looking a little sad. “Hyung would never hurt me.”
Fresh shame fills him, and he looks up at Chan. “I know. I know that, I just—”
“It’s alright,” Chan says. “I understand. I am really, really sorry you walked in on this without warning, Felix. That is my fault. I texted Hyunjin that we’d be down here, but I should have made sure he read the message. I apologise.”
“It’s… it’s okay,” Felix says. “I was just… You’re really okay?” That last question is directed at Jeongin again, who nods. “You won’t drop?”
Jeongin shakes his head. “Hyung wouldn’t let that happen.”
As if to prove it, Chan leans in for a thorough scenting. Jeongin pulls a face, but lets him do it. When he’s done, Chan looks at Jeongin and holds out a hand. “Do you want cuddles after?”
Jeongin immediately shakes his head, arms wrapped around his knees. “I’m good. This was enough. Thank you.”
Chan sighs. “Alright. At least let me get you some juice.” When Jeongin nods, he stands to move to the kitchen, pausing only to press a long kiss into Jeongin’s hair, accompanied by a burst of loving coffee. “Thank you, love, for your trust. You did well.”
Jeongin closes his eyes, and Chan leaves the room to join Changbin in the kitchen. When he’s gone, Jeongin looks at Felix again. “I’m so sorry, Lixie.”
“It’s okay,” Felix repeats, watching him. Jeongin looks… he does look fine. He smells fine. Like himself. And yet there’s a hint of tension in his frame that Felix doesn’t like. “Can I hug you?” That’s probably a stupid question, because Chan just asked and Jeongin refused, so why would he—
Jeongin shudders. “Yeah.” He lets himself fall into Felix before Felix even has the chance to open his arms. Felix shifts back so they’re both on the soft, fluffy rug in front of the couch, and tugs Jeongin down with him until they’re lying on their sides and Felix can fully wrap himself around him. Jeongin releases a long breath and slumps into him, scent flowing out again. Not subspace this time. Just ease. Felix breathes him in. Jeongin is okay. He shouldn’t have doubted that, but all he’d been able to see was Jeongin’s vulnerability, and the thought of what could happen had terrified him.
But Jeongin is fine. He’s relaxed and peaceful in Felix’s arms. Felix presses a barely-there kiss into his hair and clings a little tighter. Jeongin is safe.
*
Changbin and Chan watch from the archway as the two omegas curl into each other, cuddling up close on the rug.
“He’d never have let you do that,” Changbin says quietly.
“No,” Chan agrees. “He never has. Whenever I space him, he always locks himself in his room for the next few hours. He’ll let me check him over enough to make sure he’s okay, but then he wants to be alone.”
“And yet.”
They watch as Felix murmurs something into Jeongin’s ear and Jeongin relaxes further into him. “And yet,” Chan echoes, a soft smile on his lips.
“You fucked up, hyung,” Changbin says after a minute, because it needs to be said.
Chan’s smile vanishes. “I know.”
“He had… That was definitely not a normal panic attack. He wasn’t here. He was seeing something else.”
Chan swallows. “I know. I could see it. It’s just, you were already there and I thought me saying something might make it worse. I didn’t want Innie to panic either.”
Yeah. Changbin had walked into the kitchen just as Felix’s scent began to spike, and he and Chan had looked over at Felix at the exact same time. And he gets why Chan wouldn’t have wanted to risk alerting Jeongin to Felix’s distress in his spaced state. But Chan’s reaction to what happened is not what he meant. “No,” he says. “I didn’t mean during. I mean, you can’t do this, hyung. Not out in the open when he’s around and you haven’t made sure he won’t walk in. Not with something like this.” Because the look on Felix’s face… God. Changbin never wants to see him look like that again.
“I know,” Chan says. “I should have checked. I feel terrible, I’m really sorry.”
“Why on earth did you do it here?” Why now, of all times. Chan and Minho have never spaced Jeongin where the others could see. This is the first time Changbin has seen Jeongin in subspace, ever.
“I didn’t mean to. It’s just… Innie was so stressed, Bin. Enough that he agreed to be spaced the very first time I offered. I asked if he wanted to go to his room and he just dropped right at my feet.”
Changbin exhales. “Jesus.”
“Yeah.”
“He’s been stressed all term.”
“He missed some classes, with Felix’s drop. He said he was a little behind still.”
Changbin sighs, thinking back to that day in the garden, to the alpha who’d sent pheromones at Jeongin. Jeongin had promised him afterwards that it was only that one time, but… “He doesn’t have great classmates either, I don’t think.”
Chan scoffs. “He’s never had those, except for Beomgyu.” His eyes drift back to the two omegas on the rug. “He does seem more relaxed now, as disastrous a turn as it took at the end.” He grimaces. “I’ll talk to Lixie later, make sure he’s okay. God, he looked… To panic like that at the mere sight of subspace… I don’t even want to know what that bastard did to him.”
“I want to kill him,” Changbin says quietly.
Chan doesn’t speak, but Changbin knows he agrees.
“We know where he lives,” Changbin continues. “We could just go and do it. He’d be free.”
Chan sighs. “We’ve had that conversation before, Bin. I’ve had this conversation with all of you, multiple times. But the answer stands. Sure, we could kill him. But we have no right over Felix. According to the law, Park Kwang-ho never wronged us, and we have no right to dispense our own justice. If we killed him, it would be murder, we would be convicted, and Felix would lose us anyway. I’m not risking that. I’m not risking any of you, including Felix. If we do something and it fails, and that bastard learns where he is? I’d never forgive myself.”
Changbin remains tense for another ten seconds, and then he slumps. “Yeah. I know.”
Chan squeezes his shoulder. “He is safe here. We’ll keep him safe.”
“He’s ours now.”
Chan watches Felix for a long minute and then says, “We’re his. If he wants to be ours, it would be an honour. But we’re definitely his.”