Chapter Text
Drip.
Tick.
Drip.
Tock.
Pitter-patter.
Pitter-patter.
These are the sounds of peace self-destructing. Patience and impatience co-existing in the same room, slowly pushing Yoongi to the edge.
Thunder towers over him, calling for him as if he were miles away. But it’s there and has been for the past three hours. He could understand if it was just passing by, but Yoongi has a feeling it’s not. Could it be the storm’s way of warning him to stay inside? To prepare?
He can feel the foundation of his penthouse shake from the force of its rumbles and the millions of droplets that land on his roof and windows, as if spewing pellets in an attempt to take him out. Regardless, he pays no mind.
His eyes dart around the screen of his laptop that rests comfortably on his lap, legs crossed on his couch, enjoying his cup of wine. It idles more on the table as if part of the decor as the alpha clicks away. The hour hand settles on 12, and the minute hand slowly inches past it.
It’s finally Friday. Just a couple more hours until he’s out all of next week. He’s not doing anything extravagant, he’ll be home for the entire duration, sleeping the day away as if he hasn’t had an ounce of responsibility in his life. With the amount of work he’s put in the past couple of years, he deserves it. After all, putting in the hours and carrying the load in his subdepartment as one of the analyst directors, he needs a break.
Yoongi has always been good with numbers. He loves putting formulas together and coming up with a final number that will change people’s lives for the better. You see, he had always imagined working in a firm or a bank for a long time, and that was the goal when he found his first big boy job. It paid well, his coworkers were great, life was even greater. He was set on staying in finance advice and investment management, gaining tenure, retiring at 67, and living happily ever after. But an opportunity presented itself, and Yoongi would be a food to refuse.
It was a step up in his career. Working in a company that focuses on technical advancement, the benefits were manageable, and the starting pay…Yoongi hadn’t seen so many zeros before. Saying goodbye to his coworkers and placing his resignation notice, he was recruited as one of the senior accountants in Seoul. In two years, he was promoted to manager, and in an additional three, he was promoted to a finance analyst director. Seven years later, living in one of the highest penthouses in the city, comfortable at 32.
He feels empty because it’s hard to be fully comfortable when you live in a world that’s burning. Yoongi’s struggling.
His focus breaks from the lightning strike, followed by a rumble of thunder, as if an alpha purrs against his back. His fingers flex around the bulbus cup before he takes a generous sip. The liquid strengthens his focus, staring off into the distance as the city lights brightened his view. Rain scatters, sprinkling on top of the buildings and streets for a nice clean.
But they will never be clean. The world is your cage, surrounded by the muck and waste from the dungeon, with the city people as the worst wardens.
He lives in a world where the narrative of alphas is superior. Should you live unmated to an alpha, you wouldn’t survive long. To live without an alpha, whether domestic or in lineage, you’re cursed for a lifetime. You must pray to Luna for protection and fortune, and be blessed for being chosen to share a life with them.
The sound of glass straining by brute strength whispers in his ear. The more he thinks how absurd this is, the tighter the grip is.
To kneel to alphas as if it’s the way of life. As if they’re the answer to every problem or to help balance the scale between betas and omegas.
Who decides their fates? Who says this is the way to live? To not have autonomy of your fate…It’s inhumane to think that as soon as you present either of the three, your soul will decide whether to save or not. By one claimed the strongest? How? Why? For what? For pride?
Vile. Yoongi wants no part of it.
He takes another sip.
Finding an omega to lay with will not bring him happiness. He doesn’t believe in the subgender propaganda for survival. People should do as they please, be who they want to be, mate with whom they want to mate with, whether alpha, beta, or omega. Whatever happened to morality and goodness? What happened to spirituality?
He gulps the rest of his wine down. Bitter, just like his mood.
Unmated and without pups at 32 is a consequence he’s willing to live with. He’d rather be alone than be with someone who’s dependent on him because the world says they must. He will love on right terms or won’t love at all.
Loneliness visits now and then, sure. Does it overstay its welcome? Yes. But it eventually leaves and doesn’t come back for a couple of months…maybe a year? He can deal with that.
Yoongi grumbles when he drinks nothing, finding his wine glass empty. It is getting late. Maybe it’s best if he stops drinking tonight and focuses on finishing this so he can turn in for the night. He sets the cup down and rolls his head around his shoulders before getting back to it.
Dazed at 1:45am, he curls into the cushions of the couch, feeling quite warm thanks to his blanket and the wine. The sound of heavy rain and the thunderous lullaby pull him into a deep slumber.
When he wakes at 8 am, he finds the sky quite gloomy. A slight tinge in his chest, an odd feeling forms in his belly. He gently caresses them.
Cotton-mouthed, the alpha wobbles into his bathroom to wash up, then to the kitchen to start his day with a cup of coffee. When he makes his way to the fridge for cream, he grumbles at the nearly empty space. He could have sworn he had a little bit of supplies and food before deciding when to go grocery shopping. He could just order his groceries online, but he’d rather not have people have his residence.
Yoongi sighs. Guess he has to leave work a little early today. Oh well. It’s Friday.
Setback aside, he’s somewhat energized for the day. The majority of his meetings consist of follow-ups with his team members, his boss, clients, and the board for his presentation on the rollover balance for the new quarter.
You could say he’s a prime example of a hardworking alpha. Precise, articulate, and a strong leader that drives for only success and growth. Yoongi is confident in his numbers, confident in himself to guide his people to the right direction, bring more business, and maintain that business. He has no room for mistakes, but it doesn’t mean they’re inevitable. It’s a way to learn and grow from it. He can stand on his own on hard decisions, easily cut out his personal feelings, and drive more in the business perspective. He is a man of focus, and during the hours of 8am - 8pm, it must not be disrupted.
The astounding praise for his hard work is accepted humbly.
“A wonderful presentation, Yoongi-ssi!”
“Data concrete, as always!”
“No doubt, we will continue to grow! More money in our pockets!”
It should be good. He should enjoy it. The extra income, his pride intact. Security in his work and his impact.
But Yoongi is suffocating.
It’s amazing how easily the air gets sucked out of the room when you learn very quickly to mind your business and just do the work they pay you to do. His 12:00 meetings are good reminders of that.
Clock in. Do your work. Clock out. Don’t ask unnecessary questions, alright?
He glances at the time. 11:55. He pulls at his collared shirt to let his scent glands breathe a little. The smell of burnt sandalwood makes his nose twinge. Waiting in the black box of doom doesn’t ease this feeling.
His boss, Daehyun, isn’t horrible. Quite the opposite. Yoongi learns a lot from him. Good mentor. He’s a little too traditional for the alpha’s liking, but he can see past that. He’s not paid to care about his views.
When they’re alone, it feels as if he’s an entirely different person. Giving him extra work that is not included in his day-to-day. He shares files worth of data from a different domain. Different from the usual spreadsheets shared by big clients. It’s almost as if they’re personal.
For months, noon has been personal.
“Hey, Min. Great presentation earlier,” Daehyun greets upon attendance.
“Thank you.” He says dryly, giving him a tight smile.
“So, what do you have for me? Did you get the file I sent you?”
“Yes, sir,” he answers roughly, shifting in his seat.
“Good. Let me hear it.”
Another great thing about this job is that he can choose days to work from home. Their policy is very vague, so he can work as many remote days as he wants. Not like they can say his productivity is down. Daehyun doesn’t fret about it. Thank God, because Yoongi doesn’t think he could handle having these meetings in person.
Don’t get it twisted, he can handle himself under pressure. He’ll never allow himself to be in a position for people to see him break a sweat. This feels different. He can’t put his finger on it, but these short meetings…
Something’s going on. Something he shouldn’t be looking at. As if he shouldn’t know about it..
He tried asking questions vaguely before, so it wouldn’t come off as prying. Light and distant. And yet, Daehyun stared at him, unimpressed, almost threatening. It’s as if he yanked Yoongi close to his face with his tie, telling him…
The next words should be answers to questions I ask you . I like you, Min. I don’t want you to worry yourself with things that do not concern you. Okay?
Yoongi stopped asking questions after that.
He sensed this wasn’t a fight he was going to win, so for the sake of his job, Yoongi made sure not to ask too many questions and to speak when spoken to.
He thought about going to HR to report this, but there’s a string somewhere between them. A tiny little piece, someplace secret. Daehyun made sure to remind Yoongi that whatever they discussed was confidential with a hint of something else along the lines. While he feels like he has to complete this for the sake of his duty as his employee, if he were to report this, there’s a possibility that Daehyun would spin this to blame him or take him down too.
But the questions keep piling in his mind until they’re concocted together. A rinse and repeat every time he jumps whenever he has to sacrifice fifteen minutes of his day.
It’s what he was working on last night, and…these numbers. They’re so low, he’s a little worried about how Daehyun will react. Will he blame him for the results? Will he turn Yoongi in with this as evidence?
But what is this evidence of personal work? Yoongi knows this is an external record. Nothing to do with the company. He knows if the results were not stable, management would come for their heads. So why is Daehyun having him report negatives? Why does he try to salvage it?
“Yoongi,” Daehyun calls him, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Yes, sir?” He says, blinking back to focus.
“Are you gonna show me or what?” He says, demanding.
Yoongi’s pulse quickens, a little embarassed he got distracted so easily.
“It’s different from last week’s,” he says as he shares his screen. “.45% lost.”
“Shit,” The alpha mumbles, clicking away, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Yoongi tries to ignore the stress in his eyes, but he’s tunneling , trying to find the answer in them. “That’s lower than last time.”
Yoongi says nothing. He mustn’t. His finger grips the folded piece of his pants, pressing his nails into his skin.
Don’t say a word..
Not a word.
“Do you think… can someone change the numbers manually?”
“...It’s possible, if they’re good with coding,” Yoongi answers simply. “The formulas used are quite advanced, synchronized with reports of stocks and wires in real time. The only way these can be tampered with if—“
“Someone took the money out.” He speaks over him, settled with the statement.
Yoongi swallows the lump in his throat from the new piece of information .
He nods. “Yes, sir.”
A pregnant silence.
“Thank you. You may go.”
Yoongi bows his head and clicks off. He breathes out.
He has never seen stocks so…low. .
Could it be his?
Somehow, this puts him more at ease. Yoongi slumps. How tiring.
Every week, Yoongi walks on eggshells. Every week, his mind is filled with frustrations.
Another week of questioning if he’s making the right decisions.
➺
“I can’t wait for you to go on break,” Namjoon says overcall, typing away. “Our tea time is starting to get cold and blue.”
“Are you trying to say I’m depressing?” Yoongi asks. While his face is more bothered, his tone is more lighthearted and playful towards his friend.
“I’m saying you’re burnt out and can use some downtime. Maybe in our next chat, you’ll be more lively.”
Namjoon, his lovely little beta dongsaeng, is the only friend he has made at this job. When he first started, Yoongi was convinced he wasn’t going to get along with anyone. But Namjoon found a place in Yoongi’s heart in his weird, destructive way.
Another brilliant person in the finance department, particularly in the tax and auditing sector. He’s been working in the company longer than Yoongi, and he's one of the few people who have shown him the ropes to a few software programs and one of the spreadsheets that Yoongi maintains. He was kind of glad he came when he did because the word around was that the beta had a destructive habit of deleting important information in spreadsheets, dataplans, and so on.
At first, Yoongi didn’t believe it. But when he saw it happen a couple of times during his training, he had no choice but to take over early on and have the beta guide him without touching the damn thing.
Years later, they’re here on their daily “tea time,” enjoying a hot beverage, even if it wasn’t by the communal breakroom. It’s a little disappointing not seeing him on some days, but this makes up for it.
“I am a delight,” Yoongi says matter of factly, bringing his coffee mug to his lips.
“Of course you are,” the younger agrees as he drinks his hot cup of herbal tea. “Some days.”
“Fuck off.”
Namjoon smirks. “Do you have any plans?”
“The plan is to catch up on sleep.”
“That’s it?”
“Don’t sound so surprised, Joon,” the alpha shrugs. “You know I don’t do much.”
“I mean, sure, but why not pick up a new hobby? Read a good book? Oh—if you want some recommendations, I can send you my spreadsheet of all the books I’ve read this year. It has some that I think you’ll find interesting-“
“I appreciate the gesture,” Yoongi gently interrupts. “But I think I’m okay. I’m not much of a reader these days.”
It kills him a little to see a pout on the beta's face. It makes him want to squish his cheeks.
“Honestly,” he continues. “If I am in the mood, I’ll let you know.”
“Fine,” he huffs. “But you’re missing out, Hyung.”
Yoongi breaks a smile. “I’m sure. Either way, I need to go grocery shopping after work, so maybe to kick it off, I’ll make something yummy.”
“Do you have any ideas?”
Yoongi thins his lips in thought. “No. But if you have recommendations–”
“Actually, I have this cookbook-“
“That’s not a book, Joon, Jesus Christ!” Yoongi giggles. “Oh, don’t look at me like that!” He complains, seeing that pout on his face yet again.
“Hyung doesn’t like me that much, I see.”
“Oh, don’t be dramatic. I don’t need a cookbook.”
“You know, hating on cultural culinary advice is not only rude but can curse you for a thousand lifetimes.”
Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Anyways, once I figure out what to make, I’ll let you know. You can come over so we can have dinner.”
That, he perks up to. “Really?”
“Of course. It’s been too long since I’ve seen you.”
Namjoon smiles. “Missed you too, hyung. Alright. Let me know when.”
Yoongi hums, finishing his coffee before clicking through his emails. A long moment of silence fills the call between them, which usually happens when they’re in the zone.
But the zone cuts after a half hour. Yoongi’s mind wanders back into the pit of worries, recalling his fifteen-minute meeting with Daehyun. Recalling the troubled look, the red numbers….
The questions fill his mind once again, but one stands out: Does Namjoon know?
He could. He specializes in tax management for the company. What if Daehyun also meets with him to force him to audit these files? He knows that’s against company policy. It could lead to termination.
The question sits on his tongue. Silent, he feels exposed just thinking about breaching secrecy. Yoongi gnawed on his bottom lip, contemplating the risks.
“Question for you…”
Namjoon snaps his gaze back to the camera. “Yes?”
His heart picks up. He sits straight, puffing his chest to show no signs of cowardice.
“Have you…been given extracurricular assignments during work hours?” It almost comes out as a full mumble.
Namjoon would never lie to Yoongi. He’d tell him the truth. Sure, they show loyalty to their company, but the loyalty between each other is more valuable.
The silence is nerve-wracking. His expression is skeptically confused rather than skeptically nervous. Namjoon cocks his eyebrow up. It makes Yoongi’s hands start to sweat.
Was he wrong, then?
“What do you mean by ‘extracurricular assignments’?”
Yoongi shrugs and turns away from the screen, playing it off as if he was handling something off his computer. “You know, like extra work.”
“Uh-yeah, given our roles, hyung.” Namjoon chuckles. “I would hope so. But I don’t see how that would be extracurricular assignments.”
Yoongi sighs. “I mean, like, extra work after hours.”
Namjoon tilts his head. “After hours?” His eyes dart around as he thinks. “That would just mean more work, which means overtime, which means more money.”
This isn’t working…
Yoongi frowns. He wishes Namjoon would read between the lines and figure out what he’s trying to say, but he knows how oblivious he can be.
But this is a work thing! Something fishy is going on, and Yoongi wants no parts of it. He’s stuck, and he wants to get out of it. He wants his regular work life again!
“Am I missing something?” He asks, countenance changing to concern.
So Yoongi puts on a tight smile and shakes his head. “Nah.”
“You look stressed.”
Stressed is an understatement, especially when there’s nothing else he could do right now.
“When am I not?”
➺
Yoongi feels a weight roll off his shoulders when he closes his laptop at 5pm. For once, he’s a little excited not to have any responsibilities for the next seven days. He thought about skipping out on getting groceries and saving it for tomorrow, but his stomach’s growl and his inner wolf’s whines as it yearned to be outside made his decision for him.
The sounds of the rain tapping on the windows and surfaces capture his attention. Staring at the world from within, the sky is even gloomier than earlier. The rain is transparent, almost as if it were icicles falling from the sky.
It’s interesting. Yoongi doesn’t know if the Gods are mourning or if they’re nourishing them.
Maybe he should go out for a little bit to grab whatever he needs. He’ll be in and out. He should also text Namjoon to reschedule his visit. He would hate for him to get caught in the rain and get sick.
The alpha stands to stretch his limbs before making his way to his bedroom to change into something comfy. He’ll go with the black aesthetic today and make his way to the kitchen to make a list of what he needs.
He’s a little particular when it comes to grocery shopping. He’s not the type to walk in and throw everything into his cart and move on, or ‘hope for the best and be settle with spending a little extra money on things that he had no business in buying if he has them in the house , rather than using saving that extra money’. While he is financially capable of buying everything he wants, he doesn’t, because nothing else interests him. He has it all: the collection of suits, the best ties ever sewn, and dress shoes and sneakers you can imagine. He lives well, and he’s extremely picky. He’s his own chef; he needs the right ingredients. Otherwise, the entire dish is ruined, and he’s left with an empty stomach.
He would like to start his first night off on a good note, especially if his friend is coming over; perfection is the objective tonight.
Which reminds him–he needs to text Namjoon to not come. He’ll do that when he’s at the store. He’ll promise him something delicious tomorrow or something.
Once his mental list is finalized, he makes his way to the entrance. Slipping on his shoes, his sweater, cap, and preparing his obnoxiously large totebag, Yoongi grabs his keys and heads out the door.
Humidity is a heavy weight on his shoulders. The smell of rain is potent in his nose. Thunder roars in the distance. It shakes the ground before him. Shifting his cap, the alpha tilts his head to the sky, watching the grey clouds pass by idly. He feels like an umbrella should accompany him during his travels, but that’d be too many things on his person. His hoodie will do for now.
The lightning is bright enough to notice it as a speck, but Yoongi knows the electric currents curl around the thick cloud. Preparing to antagonize the public.
Oddly, his alpha grows restless at the sight; he feels he should go back inside and have his things delivered. He rolls his shoulders and walks down the block, a decision to proceed to the market by foot.
There aren’t a lot of bodies roaming the streets at this hour. He’d expect to see more families or white collars roaming back and forth to head home or to a meeting they’re late to. Which is fine for Yoongi; he doesn’t have to worry about bumping into some stranger and releasing a great sigh if he’d face their wrath and a monologue about manners. Some would say he carries the wisdom of a 90-year old, but in reality, Yoongi just knows better. He slithered through lots of cracks to avoid dead ends and dressed incognito too many times to avoid confrontation. He plays the game very well as an alpha living in societal eruption.
Turning a corner to arrive at the plaza, he finds the common folk on his way there. Various groups: close friends going home from another completed school day, employees heading home or to their next job, and proud parents and their children, linked hand-by-hand, cheerful, amused, or sorrowed by the day’s events. Despite Yoongi’s attempts to lower his gaze to mind his business, his ears work fine.
“We’ll see appa soon, won’t we eomma?”
“Yes, little one, and he has a surprise for you!”
The child gasped. “Really?! What is it?”
“You’ll see soon,” she giggled. “He cannot wait to see his dear boy. He’s missed you ever since you left the house this morning.”
Giggled. Amused by her kin’s retorts and joyful chirps. Deferent for bringing young life into her world.
And they just–continue on, leaving Yoongi in a cliffhanger with heartache.
Sometimes, he wondered how his life would be on the other side…If he gave into the circumstances. He wondered if he would find the omega of his dreams, have an extravagant ceremony, mate them, and have as many pups as they could. Enjoy life together.
But he also doesn’t know if he could do that to himself. To accept everything, to let someone expect degradation.
It’s moments like this where it sets off as a reminder that this is what he chose. Everything’s fine the way it is. Even if it means mourning for a life that was never meant for him.
The tip to the market is longer than usual despite it being a fifteen-minute walk. When he enters, he pays his respects to a couple of employees by the entrance with a bow, grabs a bin, and makes his rounds. There are a lot of people swarming in various sections. It seems it’ll be more of a stick around than an in-and-out situation, but hey, as long as he gets what he needs.
The stick around was definite. Nearly an hour and a half through the store with his bin nearly full, easily dangling by his mighty grip. When he was thirty minutes in, he didn’t mind waiting by the produce section from the assembly line of folks checking out different apples and oranges or picking a certain amount of celery and cilantro. But when it dragged to almost twenty minutes by the dry produce section, his patience was being tested for sure.
Is there a holiday coming up that he didn’t know about? He knows it’s springtime, but graduation season’s in like–three months. Why is it so busy?
But he kept his cool and continued roaming through the store until he was sure he got everything he needed. He was exhausted, down to the bone, but when he saw how long the lines were to the cashiers and self-checkout, he had to take a deep breath.
Something told him that maybe he should have stayed home today.
➳
Yoongi’s out of the store by seven. The streetlights led him to a path amid the plaza, then to the same route he took to get here. His tote bags are too full, trying their best to either weigh him down or dislocate his shoulder (again). Perhaps both. He’ll need to be extra careful if he doesn’t want to make a trip to the emergency room tonight.
He feels his phone buzz in his pocket. He groans and pauses movement to fix the straps over his shoulder before attempting to fish his phone out of his pocket. His eyes squint at the bright screen. Seeing Namjoon’s name come up, he realized he never called to reschedule.
[ Joonie]
I’m on my way
I should be there in twenty minutes if there’s no traffic
Yoongi frowns; guilt and uncertainty ping in his chest. He completely forgot to text him. He walks down the lit path with haste.
Now what? It’s such a dick move to cancel plans when someone is already en route. Maybe he should just let him come and stay the night. He would hate for him to drive in the rain-
Holy shit, is he driving to Yoongi’s house?
Yoongi quickly starts panic-texting, praying, and scolding the beta to not even think about getting in the driver’s seat. He’s known Namjoon long enough to know he is the most destructive person he’s ever met. Fucking up spreadsheets and accidently deleting powerpoint presentations the day of is one thing. Destroying coffee machines and nearly blowing up printers in attempt to fix them is another. The last thing he needs is Namjoon behind the wheel.
Fuck , he’s freaking out as his soft worries turn gruesome and petrifying—
Yoongi’s ears perk up from an abrupt sound of scuffling in the distance. His eyes narrow as he scans the area, looking behind him in case someone is close enough to try to rob his groceries. At that moment, he noticed that he was completely alone, and while he can protect himself, it still isn’t a good position to be in.
The sound of scuffling continues, distant shouts far from his person, but close from his great hearing. All good reasons for Yoongi to get home quickly.
Thunder roars above him. A couple of droplets fall on the beak of his cap, a couple on his shoulder. His cautious speed quickens, focusing back on his phone, opting out of texting and to call Namjoon instead. The alpha presses the phone to his ear, tightening his grip in the straps in his other hand, glancing behind and around. His nerves are slowly getting the best of him, his mind is mixed with too many demands. Check on your friend. Run home. Be prepared for the inevitable.
A couple of long rings. It goes to voicemail.
“God–fucking–” Yoongi hisses, pressing the call button again. Another glance behind him. Three voicemails later, Namjoon still isn’t answering. Yoongi turns the corner. Why is Namjoon not picking up the phone? He just texted him.
Shit, could that mean—No. There’s no way. Not so quick. As quick as the shower falls from above, it couldn’t. But it happens when you text and drive. No matter how much time passes–
A curse flies out of his mouth, loud and proud as a bunch of garbage cans topple to the ground from the dark alleyway a couple of cars away from Yoongi, just across the street. He jumps back, gripping onto his phone and his bags for dear life. His heart nearly jumps out of his chest, and drops at the sight of someone laying on their side on top of the cans, then rolling onto their hands to break their fall. Their grunts are obvious, but what leaves Yoongi further on edge is their stressed whines and the heaviest breaths. As if they were running from something.
“There he is!” Someone shouts deep in the alleyway.
“Get him!”
Running from someone.
Yoongi’s rooted to place, blinking rapidly at the scene in front of him. The person crawls to the wall for support, pushing themself off the ground onto his feet. His thoughts speed through questions of their well-being and the situation, but the biggest question that easily takes over the other two is how far along they are.
Because his eyes tunnel to their round belly. A pregnant person in distress, running from danger. It’s enough to release Yoongi from the imaginary roots that hold him back.
The dark, the best mantle, does not reveal the shadows that emerge from the alley. Three unknown men, bigger and stronger than the carrier, swarm them, grabbing their arms to pin them against the wall.
Disgusting alphas.
“You’re awfully fast for a pregnant person,” One alpha chides, his glare unnoticed. “You’re lucky your cute, otherwise I’d let your fat ass go.”
“We need to finish what we started, little omega,” the other chuckles darkly, leaning to nip his cheek. The omega turns their head away from them. “Your scent is so delicious and thick.”
“Please!” They scream and thrash in their hold. “P-please–I-I don’t have anything you want!”
The alphas chuckle.
“Sure you do,” the third one sings, tilting his head closer to their neck, while the other two hold them down. “I see a couple of things we can have for the night. I can take his mouth. You guys can have whatever.”
“Sounds good to me.” The first one tugs him towards the alleyway as they struggles even more.
“No! Please, no!!” they begged, sobs ripped out of them. “Please!!”
A ring of skin slapping and a broken yelp rings in Yoongi’s ears.
“Shut up and follow us if you know what’s good for you, omega. You need us. So you better do what we tell you.”
The omega’s cries echo down the street. It makes Yoongi’s stomach turn from hearing such degradation. His blood boils at the sight of power play. The greed of the evil taking from the innocent. Do they not hear their pleas and fear in their cries?
Fucking disgusting .
Make them pay, his alpha hisses. The straps slip off of Yoongi’s shoulder as he charges towards the group.
If there’s one thing Yoongi’s learned over the years, it’s knowing how to use anything in your person for defense. So when he picks a large carton of milk from his inventory, he has no regrets about what will happen next.
With an easy swing, he bashes the full carton right in the alpha’s face, cracking it open and spilling the white liquid on him and in proximity.
The group of men yelp from the sneak attack, and the alpha struck stumbles to the ground with his hands on his head, choking from the milk that made its way into his respiratory tract. His next move was unexpectedly fast.
Yoongi swings his bag toward the next alpha–directly into his face, causing him to crash right onto the pavement. Yoongi’s next move was just as fast, gripping a tight hold on their shirt and punching him right in the face. It’s enough to crack his nose, but he isn’t done, oh, far from it.
Yoongi’s out for blood, and he won’t stop until it spills tonight.
The alpha stumbles back and tries to shove Yoongi off of him and fight back, but it leads him to take more hits. His cheek swells, his eyes shut tight and bruised. His lips bust open. Punch, after punch, after punch, until the alpha is down, begging for mercy.
Yoongi unravels his fingers from the man and ends the final strike with his foot, kicking him in the jaw.
His focus returns to the other two, who clearly have no interest in getting up to defend. Stunned from what just happened, they blink sheepishly to regain focus. All three groan in pain.
Victorious, Yoongi flexes his fingers and pops the bones on his neck before turning to the omega–
Who is no longer in sight.
Yoongi looks around, shocked by their disappearance. They couldn’t have gotten far, could they? They were just here…
He can smell them. A concentration of something rotten. He follows it, leading him down the block, the next turn in the corner. He finds the omega leaning against the wall, fingernails scratching on the brick, doubled over. Their groans gutted, dripping in pain as they wrapped their arms around their round belly.
This omega is indeed pregnant, and by the looks of the circumference, it’s possible they could be due at any moment.
They gasp and quickly face him. They must have sensed Yoongi nearby, his scent rugged and edgey from the fight. Trails of the heaviest tears mark his cheeks, his face flushed, their fringe puffed out and soaked from the rainfall. Their cheek holding a red hand imprint.
Yoongi’s heart clenches.
“Excuse me,” Yoongi said, taking a cautious step forward. The omega whimpers and takes a step back. “Be not afraid, it’s alright. You’re safe, I won’t hurt you–”
“P-please,” they plead. “I-I-I don’t have anything you want–please–”
“I don’t-”
“Please spare me!” They break into a sob before doubling over once more. They choke on another before releasing an uncomfortable groan.
Yoongi frowns. “I promise you, I am not here to harm you. I want to help you.” He moves closer but halts when the omega drops to their knees and curls into themselves, facing away from Yoongi.
Curled as a means of a shield for their pup. The omega trembles from the wet cold and fear, preparing for whatever happens next.
It’s heartbreaking.
Yoongi flexed his hands again, feeling a little jittery; he feels so useless, just standing around while this poor person is in distress. His mind is screaming at him to do something, figure out what to do, how to ease them, show them that he is not a threat. Yoongi glances around to see if there’s anyone around who could help, perhaps a beta or another omega. But there’s no one.
Shit.
Yoongi rocks a step back and then a step forward, wanting to get closer to do something. They’re shivering, for crying out loud, and he took a nasty fall earlier, so they must be in so much pain. His alpha is pressing him to check for wounds, to make sure their pup is okay.
When he takes more steps towards him, the omega curls into a tighter ball. It makes him frown even more.
He can’t just…walk away from this. He’d be no better than those bastards that harassed them not too long ago.
He needs to prove it.
Yoongi walks around them slowly while keeping a distance from them.
As an alpha, he knows he must get permission even to come close to an omega, especially one carrying. He wants to give them the power to decide, and if they truly do not want his help, then he will back off and call the police. Hopefully, they will be more comfortable with law enforcement.
He makes his way to the opposite side of the wall. While the fabrics on his body are two sizes bigger, he can tell from their complexion and features through the wet material that they’re malnourished. Their scent is dull and weak.
How long has it been since they had a warm meal? A hot shower? How long have they been hiding, running from danger?
They seem young. Not too mature for early thirties? Late twenties? Their hair is much longer when wet, and their frame is shown from the now-soaking material.
“It’s okay,” Yoongi says calmly, loud enough for them to hear. He drops to his knees, cupping his hands behind his back, and bows his head.
Submission. Pledging.
His alpha is clawing for him to stand . You are a predator. Never submit. Get up .
It’s very out of character for an alpha and very uncomfortable for Yoongi, but he doesn’t care. This isn’t about him right now, and he pleads to his wolf that it’s not the time, that they must do this. He needs to help this omega and get them somewhere safe.
Protect.
Yoongi couldn’t tell if they noticed him in this position, but judging from their sobs dying to whimpers and hiccups, the gesture did its job in easing them. The rain pours are a little louder, the atmosphere heavy and tense. The alpha tilts his head up enough to take a glance.
Their eyes are wide and round. Confused. Shocked. A trail of their tears streams with a mixture of tears and rain. Bags under them; they’re running beyond overdrive, which is expected when caring for bodies of two. Always alert. Always moving. Yoongi’s surprise settles by his accuracy from how young they perceive to be.
Poor thing…
“I promise, I am not here to hurt you.” He declares softly. “I want to help you.”
The omega is silent. They observe Yoongi’s posture as if contemplating whether he should let him. Their body remains curved, arms tucked under their frame to protect the pup. It’s clear they don’t trust Yoongi, and that’s fine. He doesn’t expect them to. He only wishes for consent to be close, to inspect, and to guide them to medical care.
They’re astonished by how easily the alpha submitted. As if this caused no issue to him. As if he didn’t mind setting his pride to the side–for what? To help a damsel? He does not know them…
But it did not matter to Yoongi. If it means saving this omega and their pup from further harm, he will do what’s necessary.
They remain in position for minutes, silent, until the omega snaps out of deep thought from a wave of pain and moans from it.
“Are you injured?” Yoongi asks.
The omega nods, shakes its head, and huffs. “I-I don’t–I don’t know. It hurts too much, I–”
Yoongi slowly sits up. “What hurts? Can you tell me?”
“E-everything. I-it hurts to walk, h-hurts to be like this. B-but can’t h-help it.”
“You took a nasty fall earlier. Did you fall on your belly at all?”
They shake their head. “H-hit my side. I-I think something pierced into me, but…”
“May I come closer? I would like to check.”
The omega stiffens at that question. His hands caress his stomach, and he winces further at the pain.
“I promise I won’t do a thing that will make you uncomfortable. I just want to check. Then I can take you to a hospital-”
“ No !” They shriek, pressing their body against the wall. “No hospital!”
Yoongi huffs. He’s stumped. In these moments, he questions why he didn’t go to med school instead of getting his master’s in fucking accounting.
Their reaction is understandable. Hospitals indeed suck, but from the looks of it, it seems like they’ve experienced worse than just treatment.
Yoongi shifts his cap, trying to find the right words. He can’t pressure him. He’s grateful they’re opening up to him now. He needs to take a steady approach.
Steady.
“Hospitals can be scary,” he empathizes. “I’m not a fan, so I get it.”
The omega looks back at him, eyes wide and guarded.
He’s listening.
“It can be a lot for someone, but they are helpful. I’ve had my share of moments of going when I was younger. Even now at my grown age.”
The omega blinks at Yoongi, taking in his words.
Lighting strikes. They flinch and cover their ears in case thunder clashes. Their lower lip wobble.
Yoongi’s heart is this close to breaking.
“I do think it would be in your best interest to go,” he says gently. “I’m worried that you and your pup are hurt. I just want to check how bad it is for myself, and…I can take you.”
“No, no, no…” he shakes his head, mumbling the rejection.
“I know a great hospital and a wonderful doctor who will take really good care of you,” he tries to convince. “They’ll give you the care that you need.”
They continue to shake their head, eyes filled with uncertainty and incoming tears. “D-don’t wanna go…Don't wanna–they’ll send me back! I can’t go back!”
Yoongi blinks, licking his lips once more to pace himself. “Take you back where?”
“The shelter. I-I can’t go back. I need to–I need–”
“Shh,” Yoongi motions for him to settle. “It’s alright.”
The shelters for omegas. He’s heard stories of the cruelty and the unfathomable experience. To think they were true, from their reaction to the outcome after treatment…
“I know the doctor of the hospital personally.” The omega shakes their head in disbelief, but Yoongi persists. “I will make sure you’re not taken anywhere you don’t want to be. They’ll only treat you. I promise I will make sure nothing else happens. Please.”
He extends his hand to them but immediately retracts. I mustn’t touch, mustn’t scare them .
“Please,” Yoongi pleads softly. “Think of your pup.”
The omega releases a weak sob and uncurls enough to look down at his belly. A telepathic connection between dam and pup. His eyes are red and wet, filled with dread and indecision. They stroke their belly, an honest frown slowly turning to a small smile after a long moment.
When their moment ends, their smile drops, and their expression is unreadable. They rest their head against the wall, nearly gone limp.
They nod. Yoongi slowly stands.
“I’ll keep my hands behind my back,” he says. “I’m walking over.”
Yoongi slowly makes his way to the omega, eyeing any sign of discomfort the closer he gets. While their body stiffened, they forced themselves to relax, seeing as Yoongi was keeping his promise so far. When the alpha gets close enough, a hint of sourness idles in his nostrils. It’s so weak, Yoongi grows worried.
The omega’s pale and exhausted. Heavy, dark bags rest under their eyes, dark orbs absorbed by darkness. As if the light had been taken from them long ago. Empty sockets awaiting their return.
Yoongi bites the inside of his cheek. He couldn’t risk letting his angry scent trigger them into a panic. He needs to stay calm.
“Can I touch you?” Yoongi asks. The omega’s harsh gaze sent a shiver down Yoongi’s spine, aside from the cold. “It’s okay if not. I just want to check where you’re in pain.”
The omega shakes their head.
“Okay. Can you move your arms? Show me where it hurts.”
The omega slowly motions to its right arm, then down to its side, all the way to its back and legs.
“Belly too…”
Yoongi swallows dryly.
“May I ask how far along you are?”
Their eyebrows furrow in thought. “I think….four? Seven? I-I don’t know…I lost track.”
“Have you been…out here alone this whole time?”
The omega frowns and averts their gaze. They say nothing.
“You said you think you’ve been pierced somewhere. Do you smell blood?”
Before they can answer, they lean forward from a sudden shock of pain. “ Ugh !”
“Okay.” That seemed to be the end of questioning. Yoongi pulls out his phone to dial–
“Yoongi!” The sudden call catches his attention.
The omega gasps and turns to the new voice, nearly squeaking when Yoongi stands abruptly to shield them. His instincts are going haywire; the immediate need to protect is very high.
He didn’t expect to see his beta dongsaeng tonight, under a large umbrella that could cover two.
“Namjoon,” he releases a heavy sigh of relief. “What are you doing here?”
“I should be asking you that,” he says pointedly. “You never showed up at your house. I called your phone and sent texts, but you didn’t respond. I got worried.”
Shit. He didn’t fucking call him.
“I stopped by the market to see if you were there, then I found your groceries and your bag on the floor at the plaza.” He takes a couple of steps towards him. “Then I checked your location and here you are. I thought something happened to–”
“Don’t,” Yoongi warns, pointing directly at him. “Stay where you are.”
“What are you–”
“Did you drive here?”
“What?”
“Did you drive here?”
“Yes?”
Yoongi frowns. He hoped he’d say no. But no time to worry about that now.
“I have a pregnant omega behind me. Ah-” He interrupts the beta’s line of questions. “I will explain everything later. I need you to get your car and bring it here. They need medical attention, quickly.”
“Okay, but–”
“I promise I will explain everything later. Just get your car.”
“Hyung–”
“Now!”
Namjoon’s mouth opens and closes, a little shocked from his short temper. He thought of whether or not he should still try to ask, but seeing Yoongi’s pointed look, he opts out. He closes his umbrella and skirts it toward him before jogging to his car.
Yoongi quickly takes the umbrella and opens it, making his way to the omega, bending a knee to their level. The umbrella hovers over his head.
“I’m sorry about that. That’s my friend. I’m not sure how he found me, but I’m glad he did. He can take us to the hospital.”
The omega went to shake his head, panic slowly rising. “He is a beta, and he is very kind. I promise. Nothing will happen. If I had my own transportation, I’d take you myself, but I don’t want to waste any more time. Please, let us take you.”
Their eyes remain wide and skittish. Searching in Yoongi’s to find deception or a reason to not trust him. But all he sees is sincerity.
It’s…different.
A car pulls up shortly after, honking at them for attention. Yoongi doesn’t move, his focus is on the omega, waiting for their decision.
They lick their chapped, scabby lips, glancing back at the car, then at Yoongi. He nods once and forces himself up, using the wall for support.
Yoongi takes a step back and offers his hand in case he needs extra assistance. At first, they reject, pushing away from the wall to walk. But independence doesn’t last long; they stumble and reach for Yoongi’s hand. He takes it graciously and helps the omega to steady their balance before heading to the car.
“You alright?” The omega nods, one arm supporting the curve of his belly.
“Don’t worry,” Yoongi gently says. “I got you.”
➺
“Hello, my friend! How are you? Sorry? You’re trying to reach me? Ah…that’s a shame. I’m unable to answer the phone right now. Please leave a message, and maybe I’ll get back to you.
Bye!”
BEEP…
“Hyung. It’s Yoongi. I know it’s sudden but…I need your help. I’m on my way to you. Can you get your staff ready to bring in a patient? They’re not in good shape…
It’s an omega, and…they’re pregnant. Can you call me back as soon as you get this?
See you soon.”
“Ow,” Yoongi hisses. A strike on his forehead by Namjoon’s assault with a steaming hot cup of coffee. “You could have just put it in my hand.”
Namjoon shrugs. “Had to wake you up one way or another.”
Yoongi grumbles. He takes the cup, nonetheless before Namjoon sits beside him. “Thanks.”
The steaming liquid is delectable on his tongue, even more as it warms his stomach. He can feel himself come alive already. He had been shivering for hours and was given a warm towel to dry off once they arrived at the emergency room. Watching the omega taken to the back on a gurney with a team of omegas, the terror on their face was noticeable. He hopes they’re doing all right and are being handled with care. Yoongi couldn’t help but feel protective of them.
He shouldn’t. His part's done now, and he knows they’re in good hands. After all, his good friend and the only omega he trusts, Kim Seokjin, is one of the most prestigious doctors and board members in Kim-Seon Hospital. He and Seokjin go way back to their college days. While Yoongi focused on Business Administration, Seokjin focused on medicine. One English class was all it took to create a beautiful, annoying relationship. Yoongi wouldn’t have it any other way.
He trusts Seokjin with his life, so he trusts that he’ll take good care of them.
“You know you don’t have to stay here, right?” Namjoon said, breaking Yoongi's thoughts. He takes a generous sip of his tea. “We can go home.”
“I will soon,” Yoongi says before taking a couple of his own. “You can go, though.”
“...Your friend will take good care of them.”
“I know.”
“...It’s getting rather late.”
“You’re more than welcome to drive home.” He says simply. “Actually–I take that back. Call an Uber.”
Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Really? I drove us here.”
“And you’re lucky I didn’t scream at you in the car if it wasn’t for my situation.” He turns to him with a frown. “What were you thinking? Driving in this weather. Driving at all!”
“I can drive just fine!”
“You can barely fix a printer, Namjoon!”
The beta widens his eyes, clearly offended. “I–that was one time! When are you going to let that go? Everyone else has!”
Yoongi chuckles darkly. “In your dreams. The amount of fuck ups I’ve seen during my time at this company, I wouldn’t trust you to turn on the AC, let alone drive a car.”
“Wow. I have no words for you. Find your own way home.”
“ You too .”
“I’m driving!”
“The hell you are.” Namjoon scoffs. “I’m serious!”
“Instead of worrying about my driving skills, let’s worry about why the hell we drove a pregnant omega to the emergency room,” he hisses. “What the hell happened?”
Yoongi turns away and leans against the chair, crossing his leg over the other. Crazy how much time has passed. Last time he checked, it was seven. Now it’s nearly midnight, and Yoongi’s stomach is filled with coffee. No meal, no groceries stocked, nothing.
“By the time I left the store, a lot was going on. I was trying to get a hold of you to cancel our plans. It was late, and the weather wasn't drivable. But you weren’t answering, and I just saw them running. They were caught by a bunch of alphas that tried—“ he scoffs. “They were harassing them. Fucking low lives.”
Namjoon’s sharp expression turns sympathetic. His scent softened to a sad, damp scent. Dampness that irritates skin if worn for more than a second. “Shit, Yoongi-hyung…”
The flashbacks were already playing in his head. The cries from them, the fear on their face. The slap they endured…Yoongi’s blood boils again.
The hands resting on his lap slowly clenched into fists. His knuckles swell up and bruised, red from dry blood and skid marks.
“Joon, the shit I heard…” His voice is low and rough, tongue poking on the inside of his cheek.“I couldn’t–They were begging Joon, and those assholes ignored their cries. They were gonna–”
Namjoon tightens his hold on his shoulder. He knew.
“They’re lucky they only got a carton and a couple of punches. I want to kill them.”
“I don’t blame you.” He didn’t question what he meant.
“Fuck,” he huffs out a scoff, his scent pumping once more. “It’s alphas like them –”
Namjoon eases, reaching to hold onto his hand. “I know.”
“Do you?” He snaps a little, looking at him with a harsh look. But it doesn’t hold for long.
When he looks at Namjoon, he can’t help but feel so goddamn emotional. He hates it. The harsh look in his eyes is sharper than a knife, yet the wetness pooling in his eyes, even if it’s a little, tells a million words unsaid.
Alphas like them are the reason why omegas don’t feel safe, the reason why the balance is destroyed. The reason why they’re all dead men walking.
The reason why Yoongi can never be happy. Namjoon witnessed this more than he should have.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers and turns away. Namjoon rubs the alpha's shoulder as a form of acceptance. Yoongi forces himself to look away, staring off into the distance.
Not now. This is not about me.
He takes a generous sip of his coffee and a deep breath.
Breathe.
“I just want to see if he’s okay.” Yoongi mumbles. “Then we’ll leave.”
Namjoon nods. “Sure, hyung. Whatever you need to do.”
“You don’t have to be here. You can go home.”
“After the night we both had, I don’t wanna go anywhere without you. I need to make sure you’re safe.”
His cold heart warms at his friend’s kindness. Yoongi reaches for his hand to caress.
“Thank you, Joon.”
Silence sits between them, reaminging in the same position for a long while.
Yoongi’s leg cramps gradually get worse the longer he stiffens it over the other, bouncing away. His nails dig into his skin, his nerves are getting the best of him.
It’s past one. What could be happening? Are they in surgery? Are they doing an emergency surgery? Are they critical?
His entire body stiffens. His scent turns heavy, burnt at the thought.
“Hyung?” Namjoon mumbles to him, awakened suddenly by the change.
Was the pup harmed after all? Did they—
“Hyung,” Namjoon shakes him gently. “What’s wrong?”
Snapped out of his thoughts, Yoongi looks at Namjoon, worried. He shakes his head and turns away.
“Tired…”
“Do you want me to grab you another coffee?”
He shakes his head. Honestly, if he has any more caffeine in him, he’ll drive himself into a panic attack. He just wants someone to come out and tell him something.
Namjoon again, perceptive, reaches to rub his back, the best form of comfort.
“It’ll be okay. I’m sure they’ll tell us something soon.”
Yoongi sighs heavily. “It’s been hours.”
“I know. You’ll see them soon.”
Yoongi nods.
It’s 2:45 when Yoongi sees Seokjin down the hall. He nearly bolts out of his seat, gripping his hands to his sides. Namjoon wakes yet again from sudden movement and also stands, eyes widening when he spots the doctor.
“My friend,” he says happily, patting his shoulder when close. “It’s been far too long. Sorry for the wait. How are you doing? Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, hyung. Thanks. Oh—” Yoongi motions to Namjoon to Seokjin. “Namjoon, Seokjin. My best friend. Seokjin, Namjoon. My other best friend.”
They lock eyes, only for a second. Namjoon looks away, suddenly shy from the omega’s dominating presence. Seokjin notices this, his eyebrow cocks upward, intrigued in this reaciton. A totally different reaction than usual. The beta jerks his head down in a bow.
“Hi,” Namjoon speaks. Or squeaks.
“Hello.”
“So?” Yoongi re-directs focus, the awkward silence flew over his head. “How are they?”
“He’s stable.” Seokjin focuses back on his friend. “It took a while for him to settle, but he’s resting now. He’ll be just fine.”
Yoongi sighs heavily in relief. He leans against Namjoon a little for support. “And the pup?”
“The baby is fine. Nothing to worry about.”
Yoongi bows his head and crosses his arms. Thank goodness. Thank goodness.
“Yes, take deep breaths. I know you were very worried.”
“You said he. Male omega?” Namjoon asks.
“Yes. 27, male. He’s pretty banged up. Did he get into a physical altercation?”
“I wouldn’t call it a physical altercation. He was running from a group of alphas.” Yoongi removes his cap to comb through his damp hair. “He fell in the process, but only on his side. They pinned him against the wall and…I intervened before they could do anything else.”
“So…you don’t know them?”
“Not really.” Seokjin blinks, a little taken aback. “What?”
Seokjin glances between them before beckoning. “Follow me.”
Yoongi and Namjoon glance at each other before following the elder. Passing through empty rooms, screaming children, mourning relatives. Seokjin leads them to an empty room, waiting for both to pass before closing the door.
“Is he your mate?” The omega asks bluntly.
Yoongi’s eyes widened. “What?”
He motions to the both of them. “Is he your surrogate?”
“ No!” They say in unison. They glance at each other with offense. “No? What do you mean no? What are you trying—”
“Stop-” Yoongi cuts. “What do you mean, no?”
“What do I mean, what do you mean?” Namjoon pouts. “Are you saying I’m ugly?”
“Didn’t even come out of my mouth.” Yoongi deadpans.
“Well, you implied it!”
“I did not! And besides, you rejected me! What’s that about?”
“Do you even date betas?”
Yoongi blinks. “I don’t fucking know.”
“You’ve never dated?” The beta deadpans.
“I didn’t say that—”
“Oi!” Seokjin snaps. Both return their focus. “Now’s not the time for love confessions, gentlemen! I am a busy man and have lives to save. Now, answer my question!”
“Sorry, hyung,” Yoongi mumbles, pouting a little. “No. We’re not.”
“Okay.” He glances between the both of them, his eyes lingering on Namjoon a little bit longer. The beta’s eyebrows shoot up, noticing for a second until Seokjin looks at Yoongi. “You said he was being harassed?”
“Yes. I don’t know the full details of what happened. I didn’t get to ask. He emerged from some dark alley and stumbled on garbage cans. Then three alphas appeared.”
Seokjin hums. “Do you remember their faces? It will be helpful to sketch out when we call the police.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary, hyung.” Yoongi clears his throat as he slides his sleeves up, baring his arms. “I wouldn’t want to risk getting jail time.”
He can’t help but puff his chest out when he says this. He’d fought people twice his size but never was in situations where he fought three alphas at once. It’s an achievement.
But a great risk if they ever catch him in public one day. Then again, knowing they got their asses handed, he wouldn’t be surprised if they were to actively avoid him.
Seokjin’s eyebrows nearly became one with his hairline, his natural pout debuting. Namjoon’s eyes dart to his lips, allured. “ You fought them??”
“Had to.”
“You could have called the police! What if you were followed? What if they reported you? Did you wear a mask?”
“It’s fine, hyung. Don’t worry about me. I’d rather you worry more about your patient. Can I see him?”
“Is he your partner?”
“No, but–”
The omega shakes his head. “You know the rules, Yoongi. I cannot let you see him unless you are related to him in some way or form. You would have if he was your mate.”
Yoongi frowns. “But I was the one that brought him in, I think I should be allowed by that right.”
“Is he your partner ?”
“No.” He huffs, getting annoyed from the questions.
“Is he your cousin? Brother’s godfather? Your great-aunt’s fifth grandchild?”
Yoongi blinks at the specifics. “N-no.”
“Then you are not allowed to see him.”
“So what’s going to happen to him?”
“Well, when he wakes up, we’re going to see if he can provide us with contact information to call someone related to him and can pick him up.”
“And if he doesn’t have family?”
Seokjin’s eyebrows furrow, his lips parting, but no immediate response. Hesitance rests on his tongue.
“We’re going to have to send him to a shelter. A place that will take pregnant omegas and have the resources they need to care for a young pup-”
“No,” Yoongi shakes his head. “No, you can’t do that.”
Seokjin narrows his eyes. “I don’t have a choice, Yoongi.”
“Yes, you do.”
“It’s against procedure and code of the place we live in.”
“I never took you as a man who respected the law. Why so different?”
“I could say the same to you.” The omega crosses his arms, unmoving from his stance. Neither does Yoongi.
Namjoon takes a step back, glancing at both. He’s heard stories about Seokjin but had never seen them both toe-to-toe like this.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You don’t care about people. Why do you care so much about this one omega? If this is your way of getting back to the dating pool-”
“ Don’t ,” Yoongi points at him, taking a step closer to him. His eyes are seething in rage and offense from that statement. “You dare finish that sentence.”
Seojkin remains standing, his gaze just as sharp. Their scent’s defensive and thick; it’s suffocating.
“Is that how low you think of me, friend ? Huh?” Yoongi’s voice is low and dark. Enraged. “You think I’d take advantage of a pregnant young omega just to make my knot wet? Do you really see me as a lowlife alpha that would just flounder my dick around to see which omega is going to bend over? Huh?!”
His voice echoes in the room. Nothing but the sounds of busy people and monitors recording vitals.
Seokjin’s jaw tenses, but he says nothing.
“I fucking care , because no one saw how scared he was tonight. You didn’t witness someone trying to run from danger and protect an unborn child. He could have been kidnapped and worse, had I not stepped in! I did what I had to do, and I promised him that he was going to be safe. I promised him I would not let anyone take him anywhere he didn’t want to go. He didn’t even want to come here because he knew that he was going to be sent back to the shelter, and here you are, going to send him there anyway!”
“I don’t have a choice!”
“Hyung,” Namjoon pulls him back. “That’s enough.”
Snaps his head to the youngest, releasing a growl—a warning not to interfere.
But Namjoon keeps his hand where it was. His scent is strong, circulating in the space. His eyes plead for one thing for the alpha to do.
Breathe.
And so he does, a couple of times, until he’s ready to look at his old friend.
“Please. Let me see him.”
“I can’t authorize that.” He answers calmly.
“ Jin –”
“Look, I understand where you’re coming from. Believe me, I do.” Seokjin’s face crumbles to a frown, sorrowful. “You want to be that person that they need to live on. I want to be that person in their corner when things continuously get hard. I’ve been in that situation more than you think. But it is my duty as a certified medical employee and Trustee to follow the hospital’s policies and the law. I can’t ignore it just to do you a favor.”
“I’m not asking you as a favor. I’m asking you as a person who is worried for their safety, as someone who wants to be there for him. Please. Let me be there for him.”
Seokjin sighs in defeat. “I’m sorry. I can’t authorize it.”
Yoongi lowers his head. He can’t accept this. His alpha refuses.
“Please…grant this for me. Otherwise, I’m going in anyway.” He declares.
Seokjin doesn’t say a word. Silence is his voice.
…Very well.
Yoongi swipes Namjoon’s hand off of him and walks past Seokjin, darting in the same direction he came from initially. Neither of them stopped him; Seokjin wouldn’t, knowing his friend all too well.
He knows he’s putting a lot at risk. His friendship, Jin’s reputation…his own safety. But he can’t just leave without seeing it for himself.
Yoongi is a simple man who tries to live a simple life. He doesn’t pry, he tries his best not to be a burden to others. He tries to be a better friend, a better son, and a better employee. It’s only moments like this when he chooses to be selfish for the greater good.
The question is if it's the greater good for himself or the world. 32 years in, and he still doesn’t know.
He needs to see him. Just for a little bit.
His heart pounds in his ears, and his senses are completely shot. His nostrils flare, and his growls are released in short puffs as he tries to trace the omega’s scent, but to no avail. All he smells is sanitizer and disinfectants.
And then, it hit him. The same dull, weak sour scent that had introduced itself earlier.
Yoongi stops in the middle of the hall, deciding where to go. He breathes in the scent as much as he can, taking a step or two to find the trail. A pit of worry sits in his chest when he loses it, turning in the opposite direction. It comes back, luring him towards the end of the hall. His feet pick up the pace.
He continues to meet empty rooms and beds holding patients.
Not here .
He makes his way towards the double doors leading to private rooms. Nurses bolt to the side as he passed through.
“Excuse me–”
“Sir, do you have a visitor’s pass?”
Yoongi ignores him, looking through each room.
Empty.
Empty.
Not him.
Not him.
Empty.
Empty–
Yoongi stops abruptly at the next door.
He finds the omega resting on his side, under blankets. His arm resting on his side with an IV attached.
Yoongi releases a heavy sigh from the inner sanctoms of his chest.
He’s safe. He’s okay. Thank God.
He presses his head against the glass, taking a couple of deep, silent breaths. The rhythmic monitor beeps and eases his nerves. He’s so glad he’s resting. He knew he would be, he would never doubt his friend’s words.
He just needed to see it for himself. He just…needed to be sure. That’s all.
“You poor thing…” Yoongi whispers, placing his hand on the door.
How long? How long did you have to survive on your own? How long did you have to hide in the shadows, press your back against the wall?
“Why are you alone?”
So many questions. So much to worry about.
“Excuse me,” a woman’s voice breaks through his thoughts. By the look of her posture, she seems timid but plays brave. “Do you have a visitor’s pass?”
He could lie. He could tell her he had rushed in and forgotten to pick it up at the front desk. But he’s too tired to go to great lengths.
Yoongi shakes his head and looks back at the window.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Only verified visitors are allowed to be here.”
“I know, I’ll be out of your hair in a moment. I just needed to see him.”
“I understand, but only verified visitors are allowed to be here. What is your relationship with the patient?” Yoongi remains silent, returning his gaze to the omega. “Sir?”
Just go away…
“Sir, it would be most helpful if you could cooperate with me, otherwise, I will need to call security. What is your relationship with the patient?”
Yoongi stands abruptly as the omega wakes, blinking sleep out of his eyes. It doesn’t take long for the realization to hit, recognizing where he was. He looks around in panic, then to the IV taped to his arm, and tries to peel it off him.
“Shit,” he mumbles before opening the door.
“Sir! You cannot go in there.”
Her loud demand shakes the omega. Gasping from the sudden intrusion.
“Don’t,” Yoongi gently says, motioning to the IV. “Keep it on.”
“Someone call security!”
The young omega looks at the nurse scurrying off before looking back at Yoongi. His dainty fingers hover over the tape, and his posture is stiff and wary. His monitor beeps are a little fast, yet the rhythm remains.
“I’m sorry,” Yoongi bows his head. “I don’t mean to intrude, but…I just wanted to check on you to see if you’re okay. Are you in pain?”
The omega lowers his gaze and shakes his head. Yoongi smiles a little.
“I’m glad.” The omega’s eyes begin to soften. The remnants of shock slowly dissipate. “I was a little worried.”
The younger licks his lips and averts his gaze. He doesn’t know what to say.
“May I enter?” Yoongi asks. “I’ll stay by the corner.” He confirms when he notices hesitance.
Eventually, the younger nods. As promised, Yoongi enters one full step, closes the door, and tucks himself into the corner. He crosses his arms comfortably, looking around the room to take in the space. Simple hospital decor with extra necessities. Pillows, blankets, two pink water pitchers and cups–everything he’d need to be comfortable.
He’s glad.
“Did you drink anything? Would you like some water?”
The younger shakes his head.
“Are you sure? You must stay hydrated. They brought lots for you here.”
The omega glances at Yoongi, shifting in his spot. He is still wary of his presence, but he is also very thirsty, and cannot support himself. Shit, just sitting up was a lot for him.
Placing his hand on his large belly, he sighs and nods, indulging in his offer.
Yoongi’s quick to move, a little glad to be useful for him. He walks towards the tray to pour the young omega a cup of water.
“Ice?”
The omega shakes his head, pulling the blankets close to himas he laid back.
Filled up, Yoongi moves towards the bed, extending his hand to him. His eyes immediately fall to his knuckles, swollen and bruised. He frowns at the sight.
“Hurt…” the omega whispers.
Yoongi’s eyes light up in concern, thinking it was he who claimed injury, until he notices his eyes on his hands.
“Oh,” Yoongi gently waves off. “I’m not hurt. I’m fine. Please do not worry.”
But the omega was not satisfied with that. His dismissive attitude toward his own well being worsened his frown. His eyes burning from incoming tears.
“ Hurt, ” he says, voice croaking. “Because of me.”
Yoongi’s heart is breaking tonight. The omega’s eyes are beyond soft and innocent . Such eyes should never be consumed in sad tears. Preferably none at all, and the fact he’s the cause of this brings him shame.
“No, no, please don’t cry.” Yoongi says calmly. “I’m not hurt—this doesn’t hurt.”
He still wasn’t convinced. He grips onto the sheets with one hand while the other covers his eyes as he sobs quietly.
“I-I’m so sorry…”
Yoongi sets the cup down to reach for his hands, but he stops himself. He promised he wouldn't touch him or get close, and he’s too fucking close right now.
He takes a step back.
Ripples of sorrow fill the space. A cry that carries so much weight in their chest. A cry that begs for forgiveness. Forgiveness that is non-existent , because what wrongs has he caused?
What has he done to cry with so much regret?
Yoongi slowly drops to his knees, cups his hands on his lap, and bows his head; this is his form of apology. The boy sees this, his sobs quietly calm to whimpers.
Submission.
“Please…” Yoongi barely whispers. “Do not cry because of me.”
“B-but…”
The alpha picks his head up to look at him. “I promise you, I’m fine. While small, I’m very proud of them, because I was able to protect you from them.”
The omega gasps at his words. He wipes his tears, eyes wide and deer-like. His cheeks are a healthy red, leaving harsher trails from the rubbing.
“I’m so sorry,” Yoongi stands. “I may not know everything you’ve been through, but I’m so sorry that you experienced that. No one deserves to treat you that way, pregnant or not. Those guys were assholes and if I could I would have given them more than they got tonight.”
The omega remains silent, averting his gaze from his words.
“So please,” he mumbles as he picks up his cup. “Do not shed any tears for me.” he raises the cup for him to take. “Drink.”
The omega takes the cup this time, bowing his head quickly in thanks before taking bought sips.
Yoongi takes a steady breath and walks back to his corner, content that he’s quenching his thirst. But that moment soon dies once the door opens, seeing security enter the room.
“Excuse me,” the man says, arms buff and firm under his thick layers, motions him out of the room. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You do not have clearance to be here.”
His voice is rugged and deep. Serious. His scent is unsettling from the overwhelming aroma of smoke.
This might be a tough alpha to convince…
Yoongi glances at the resting omega, who looks between them, his lips forming the cutest pout.
Yoongi knows the rules. He doesn’t work here, nor is he related to this omega. He doesn’t want to give Seokjin a harder time than he gave him tonight.
But his alpha is stubborn. It wants to root him in place. Take his stand.
Don’t go. Protect him.
Yoongi takes a breath and looks back at the guard, trying his best to be civil and control his glands from producing any indication to challenge him.
“Sir,” he motions.
“If I may—”
“We can discuss outside.”
“I..would like to remain here-”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible. Please,”
“Look, I know–”
“Sir,” he says again, in warning.
“If I can just-”
“I do not want to ask you again.”
“Can I just stay with him for a little longer? Just a few, he’s been through a lot tonight—”
“Only relatives are allowed to visit. You do not have a visitor's pass and are not related to the patient. Please step out of the room.”
Yoongi huffs. “I understand that-”
“ So,” he motions again, his arm stiffening the more he repeats himself.
“Sir, please,” the nurse says near the threshold.
“I will have to use force if you will not comply.”
“That’s not necessary. Just please hear me out.” He pleads. “This young man was in danger, and I-”
“Sir. Please step out of the room.” The alpha raises his voice.
“Listen to me!” Yoongi snaps, his patience tossed out the window.
The nurses nearly screams. The world spins quickly, then lopsided. Yoongi finds himself on the floor, pain slowly emerging on the side of his head, his arms pinned behind his back.
Adrenaline shoots through his veins like a drug. He’s alive, he’s been challenged. He’s in a vulnerable position; he needs to break free and defend himself.
“Let go of me!” he thrashes.
“Stop resisting.”
The guard grips his arms to pull him off the ground and shove him out. But Yoongi refuses.
“You’re not listening!”
The guard snaps his canines close to his neck, growling ferociously in warning. Another threat.
Yoongi’s alpha is ready to fight. He will not back down. He will not lose.
He continues to struggle in his hold, skitting his feet against the tile floor in protest. Yoongi slams his back against his front before yanking his arms away.
“Let go of me!” Yoongi barks.
We cannot leave him.
Quickly, the guard manhandles Yoongi against the wall, slamming his body hard enough to leave him stunned. Yoongi groans in pain from hitting his head yet again and twisting his ankle from skitting his foot. The curtains scrape against the rail, and the tray shakes, tumbling the smaller items to the floor, pillows and blankets included. and
The resting omega cries, covering his mouth at the scene.
“We cannot have this in the room! Huang-nim! Compose yourself!”
“What is going on in here?!” The angels above send Seokjin, who rushes in and meddles between them to pull them apart. “Stop! Release him!”
“He does not have clearance, and he’s hostile.” The guard said, tightening his hold on Yoongi’s arms.
“I’m hostile because you’re throwing me around like I’m some wild animal!”
“Release him,” Seokjin demands.
“He does not have clearance.” He repeats.
“He is no criminal or a threat to anyone in this room. Now release him .”
“On what grounds?” He glares at Seokjin.
“On the grounds of my name as the Chief and one of the Board Members of this hospital.” Seokjin’s glare is ice cold, his growls rumbling in the space. “You have three options. You can let him go and walk out still employed, I can have you removed from the premises for assault, or I can report to your supervisor and file so many complaints against you, your grandkids are going to need hire a lawyer. The choice is yours, Huang-nim.”
Seokjin’s tone is harsh; the room chills. The world freezes. Words spoken by a man one should never defy, whether a nurse, a doctor, or paper boy. Subgender be damned.
Seokjin’s voice will lead you to wisdom or consquences. Choices enable them.
The room falls quiet. Glares are being thrown back and forth like ping-pong. Eventually, the guard releases Yoongi and takes a step back. With one last glance between them, he huffs and storms out.
“You,” he points at the nurse. “I will deal with you later. Leave us.” The nurse bows her head, guilty and scurries off.
Yoongi leans over, supporting his front with his ankles. He takes an easy inhale and exhale, relieving the pounding in his head.
“Are you good?” Seokjin asks, his tone still direct.
“I hit my head.”
“Is your vision blurry?”
“No.”
“Good. I’ll give you Advil later.” He starts cleaning up. “I told you not to come. I told you.”
“I-”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“Hyung-”
“I said I don’t want to hear it.”
“I told you I had to see him.”
“And look what happened.” he motions around as he picks up the mess.
It doesn’t take long for guilt to settle in the alpha.
The eldest takes a deep breath of his own before breaking into a soft smile. “Jungkook-ssi, I am so sorry for all of this. I promise you that this is not a recurring affair. It won’t happen again. You’re safety is very important to us. Are you alright?”
Seokjin’s attention to the omega is gentle and nurturing. Completely different than a second ago.
Jungkook—the resting omega–on the other hand, is not receptive to his nurturing engagement. His breaths are shallow and quick, as if he just ran a mile. Clenching on hand in the sheets, the other on his stomach for dear life.
His scent is suffocatingly sour. His eyes are wide and unfocused.
Seokjin’s fake smile drops instantly.
“Jungkook-ssi?”
Abruptly, he hunches over as he lets out a strong blow and then a painful shout.
Yoongi snaps his back straight in concern while Seokjin quickly moves to his side to lean him back against the bedframe to inspect him, but he doesn’t budge. He releases another shout, eyes clenching shut from the pain.
He barely needs an inspection when the doctor sees a large wet spot in the center of the omega.
Seokjin rushes to the door and swings it open. “I need nurses!! Nurses!” He calls.
“Hyung,” Yoongi calls him in a calm panic. “What’s wrong?”
“Seonsaeng-nim!” A team rushes to him, ready for command.
“I need a wheelchair, stat. Get the labor team ready. We need to act quickly, quickly!”
They disperse.
Ignoring the alpha momentarily, he rushes back to Jungkook’s side once more to ease him onto his back.
“O-Oh my God, my baby–” Jungkook panics, his breathing worsening. “S-somethings—something’s w-wrong with my baby!”
“Shh, it’s alright, Jungkook-ssi. You’re water broke. It just means the baby is coming.”
“What?! No, you said–”
“The time frame is accurate based on the measurements, but it seems it’s coming sooner than intended.”
“I-I can’t–I’m not ready– ”
Jungkook releases a scream that shakes Yoongi to the core. Completely frozen, watching him struggle to breathe, breaking down in a matter of seconds, watching a team of nurses come in with a wheelchair, some waiting by the door with masks and gloves.
Watching reality slap Jungkook in the face that his baby is due any second.
“Jungkook-ssi, you need to stay calm, or you’ll fall ill, okay? I need you to breathe. Deep, slow breaths.” Seokjin calmly instructs.
Seokjin takes deep breaths to follow along. Jungkook struggles, too focus on the excruciating pain. His eyes screwed tight, Jungkook breathes in a deep shakey breath, and releases it just as fast. He does this repeatedly with Seokjin, trying to focus on that rather than everything else around him.
“There we go. Good . Just like that. Focus on that, okay? We’re going to take care of you and get that baby out safely, okay? Good, good .”
His whines release with his breaths, his knuckles pure white from the iron grip on the blankets. His face flushed red and sweaty.
“Get him in the chair,” Seokjin orders his nurses, slipping away as they got to motion. “Yoongi, you need to go home.” The omega concludes as he guides him out the room.
“W-what? Wait–but–what—Is he going to be okay?”
“Yes. You need to go. Now.”
“Hyung–”
“ Now , Yoongi.” He respectively pushes him through the exit.
The doors close as if never to be opened again. The silence does not comfort him.
Yoongi usually prefers it.
But right now, he’s dreading being in it.