Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hoseok had gone through four foster packs in the past twenty-two months, and, with two months before he would be sent away for good, he was being given to a fifth. Two years to be fixed, to be tamed, to go from a feral wolf to a demure, civilized omega. And if that didn’t happen, the omega center would be given another resident.

No one really knew much about omega centers, other than that they weren’t places anyone wanted to be sent to. They weren’t places anyone wanted to visit, either—not that anyone wanted to visit the omegas there. No one even really wanted to see them. The centers were always in isolated areas with layers of electric fences running around the perimeter, guards at every turn, and thick collars heavy on the necks of omegas who would never find belonging outside those walls.

No one wanted to associate darling little omegas with the cold stone buildings, or with the sharp teeth that center omegas bared when threatened, so it was best to just keep them from the public eye. Out of sight, out of mind.

Feral omegas didn’t last long in the centers, Hoseok had heard. There weren’t many statistics published and there were even less than an omega could access, but he’d heard quiet whispers about omegas who disobeyed too much, omegas who were forced outside in the winter, already-feral omegas who were driven even more mad by the lack of touch—they were nothing but husks at the end.

Hoseok didn’t want to be one of those omegas. But he would be. He knew it.

He’d been feral for years now. He supposed it had always been a matter of time. His familial pack hadn’t cared for him, his parents and siblings and packmates all scorning him for—well. He didn’t know what for. He couldn’t figure it out when he was a newly-presented pup crying in his pitiful nest and he couldn’t figure it out when he was in his twenties and crying in an even more pitiful nest in the home of a pack who truly didn’t want him. He wasn’t born lucky. He felt he wasn’t even lucky to have been born.

When he’d been given to his alpha, Hoseok had known it would not be a happy life. When his alpha sank his teeth into his neck, marking him as property, he remembered feeling nothing but fear and dread and sorrow. He wasn’t sure why he had felt sorrow, even now—he couldn’t mourn something that never was, and happiness had never been for him.

His alpha locked him away with nothing but housework, a few worn books, and new-and-old bruises for company, day after day after day, and apparently—it got to him. His alpha would fuck him often, but threw him aside as soon as his knot went down. Every month or so his alpha would remember that Hoseok should have been bred by then, but the beatings that came after would have made sure that wasn’t the case either way.

The only touch he had felt for years brought nothing but pain. He hadn’t been given kindness, or companionship, or belonging, or—anything. He was left with nothing that made him feel real.

He was docile until he wasn’t, a silent omega until he was a snarling one, and part of a pack until he was sent away from them in chains to keep him from running and a gag to keep him from biting. The chains around him now felt just as heavy as the first time, though the gag made his jaw hurt more. The adrenaline wasn’t there to carry him through the maddening ache, not the fifth time around.

He’d been better at his last home, but he hadn’t been good enough. They realized that he wasn’t worth it, like the foster pack before him had, and the two before that.

It was always the same. The pack would think they were doing some noble thing, taking in a feral omega that was sad and lonely and abused. They thought they’d be able to heal him. They’d be able to chase away his sad little past and silly little troubles with regular meals and forced scenting and whatever else their idyllic fantasies inspired. But the second they saw the crazed look in a feral omegas eyes, their humanity overtaken by the vicious animal that sank its teeth into their soul, they saw the real threat they posed to their packmates—especially when there were already omegas in the pack and those soft, sweet, innocent things were within Hoseok’s reach—and they realized it wasn’t worth it. He would be locked up, services would be called, and he would be sent away.

If Hoseok had gone feral just a few years prior, he would have been sent off to the center almost immediately. But new laws had been passed just in time to give him a chance. Six months became a year, one year became two. It didn’t seem to matter much, though; very few ferals were successfully rehabilitated. Hoseok was almost sure that the ones who were were actually just fantastical stories the omega services workers told them to keep them from going truly mad right there in the office.

Hoseok often thought it would have been better to just be carted off to the center right away, just so he didn’t have to go through the whole process of being forced into a space he didn’t belong, into some pack that would just reject him in the end. It would be better to step right into the horror that was his future rather than made to anticipate it for years. The nightmares about what awaited him made him wake up in an episode half the time.

But as it was, he had been given two years, and was down to two months until he would be locked away to starve for love and die alone as he was always meant to do.

The synthetically-neutral scent of the omega services workers was giving him a headache, especially because he could only breathe through his nose with the gag in. The rush of scenery out of the windows was giving him a headache, too, but closing his eyes only made it worse. At least the workers weren’t talking at him.

Neither of them had talked to him in a way that wasn’t all airy and condescending (“Aren’t you so excited to go to your new pack? Oh, I bet you are!”) but he had heard them say that his ‘new pack’ had two omegas, and that they’d taken in ferals before. When one asked if their omegas had been feral, the other had laughed and said “God, no, can you imagine?”

Hoseok stopped listening after that. Even the people who were supposed to help him knew it was a wasted effort. He stared out the window and ignored the way the gag made his jaw ache and the way the chains cut into his wrists and hoped that two months would pass between one breath and the next.

The pack alpha was already waiting outside when they pulled into the driveway. He was big, tall, and handsome, wearing thick glasses and a soft sweater. Hoseok could already tell that a savior complex would once again be his downfall.

“Welcome!” the alpha said, giving the workers quick bows and a bright smile. “Please, come in.”

Hoseok watched from the corner of his eye. No need to start out too badly; alphas didn’t like omegas who disrespected them with eye contact. He looked nice enough, but so did plenty of alphas. And betas, for that matter. Hoseok could never trust that nice would carry through.

“We can’t stay long, I’m afraid, Namjoon-ssi,” said one of the workers, bowing apologetically.

“Ah, I understand,” Namjoon smiled. “Thank you for bringing Hoseok-ssi to us.”

Hoseok-ssi, Hoseok thought, startled, almost sure he’d misheard the formality. But—

“Hoseok-ssi,” Namjoon said, turning his bright smile to him. Hoseok was shocked enough to briefly meet his eyes, but quickly looked away when he remembered what he must look like.

He hated thinking about it. His shadowed eyes all wide and surprised with his mouth hidden by the gag, his cheeks hollowed, his head shaved. His hands were tied behind his back, his ankles chained to keep him from running. He hardly looked human, he thought, much less like an omega. He wasn’t pretty and soft, he was skin and bones, constantly tense, teeth bared much, much too often.

“Let’s get you settled in. You must be tired from your journey.”

It was an hour-long car ride, Hoseok wanted to point out, even though the trip had made him weary down to his bones. He wouldn’t dare to correct an alpha like that, anyway, especially over something so trivial.

Namjoon didn’t ask where Hoseok’s things were, which was proof enough that he’d fostered feral omegas before. It was an odd thing to give Hoseok a twinge of hope that he quickly squashed down, but perhaps it would be a nice change—maybe he wouldn’t expect so much. Hoseok had been the first feral in three of his past homes. They’d all been so shocked when he arrived without nesting materials or stuffed animals or whatever else all omegas should have. Namjoon had glanced in the back seat of the car, saw nothing, and knew.

“Here are the keys, Namjoon-ssi,” a worker said, placing them in Namjoon’s hand. “We wish you success.”

And like that, Namjoon was waving them off as they drove away, leaving Hoseok with his very last chance.

-

Namjoon ushered him inside and Hoseok felt a pit in his stomach when Namjoon’s smile fell.

“Ah—” Namjoon said, crouching down.

Hoseok nearly stepped back at the sudden movement. Whatever he expected, it wasn’t for Namjoon to unlock the cuffs around his ankles, tossing the chain to the side.

“I’m sorry you’ve been kept like this, Hoseok-ssi. I’m sure it’s been uncomfortable.” He untied Hoseok’s bound arms as he stood, careful to not touch Hoseok’s irritated skin more than he had to. The gag was last, and he unbuckled it much more slowly, discarding it carelessly before cupping Hoseok’s face in his large hands, massaging his jaw gently. “Are you alright?”

Hoseok stared at him. He didn’t speak, or nod, or shake his head, no matter how utterly confused he was. He didn’t want to do anything that might upset Namjoon. It would be easier to get through these last few months as neutrally as possible, no matter how odd this new alpha seemed to be.

“Ah,” Namjoon said, sounding almost chastened. “Silly question, I suppose.”

Hoseok realized it was now, too. If he was alright, he certainly wouldn’t be a shadow in Namjoon’s hall.

“Let me show you to your room, Hoseok-ssi. I’m the only one home for the next few hours so you shouldn’t be bothered while you settle in.”

Hoseok followed him to a bedroom; it was nice and sunny with flowy curtains and a small futon bed on the floor. He found himself itching to roll in it, but he’d never dare. He itched more to build up walls around it with the sizable pile of blankets, sheets and pillows carefully stacked and folded at the foot of the bed, but he couldn’t bear the thought of building yet another nest that would inevitably be destroyed.

“There are some snacks in the drawer here,” Namjoon said, pulling it open. “A little bit of everything since we didn’t know what you prefer. Do you have any allergies that you know of, Hoseok-ssi? Nuts, dairy, starch—?”

Hoseok shook his head after a too-long moment. He knew his file, as bare as it was, said he had none.

Namjoon nodded, rubbing his palms on his hips. “Okay. I’ll leave you to settle in, unless you’d like me to stay?”

As careful as Hoseok was trying to be, he couldn’t help the quick shake of his head, the thought of an alpha staring at him for any longer than he had to a genuinely scary prospect.

“Then I’ll go,” he said easily. “I’m just a shout away—or a knock, or a wander. Find me if you need me, or if you’d like to. Please. The rest of the pack will be back in time for dinner. I’d like you to eat with us, at least at the start. You can leave after a few moments if you feel the need, but—prepare yourself for meeting them.”

Namjoon didn’t order him in a way that made Hoseok feel nauseous with the compulsion to obey, but it was an order. He nodded once to show he understood, clinging to that you can leave and hoping it would actually be truthful in a few hours’ time.

Namjoon gave him a soft smile. “I hope you like it here with us, Hoseok-ssi. I really do.”

Namjoon turned away and made to close the door, and the words slipped, quiet and unbidden, out of Hoseok’s mouth. “Thank you.”

Namjoon turned just enough to beam at him. “Of course, Hoseok-ssi. Welcome to our den.”

As soon as Namjoon closed the door behind him, Hoseok began to explore as quietly as he could. There was food in a drawer, just as Namjoon had said. Hoseok made sure to stash some around the room, hiding packets of dried fruit and chips around the room in case he was punished with withheld meals. The window opened outwards, he discovered—not enough to slip out but enough to let in fresh air and make the curtains flutter prettily. There were a few sets of clothes hanging neatly in the closets; soft matching sweatshirts and sweatpants, a pair of pajamas, a few t-shirts—even underwear, he was glad to see. That was not always a given. None of it was always a given.

He tried his best to avoid touching the stack of bedding, but his instincts clawed at him insistently until he gave in. He sniffed at them cautiously from a few feet away, and even then he caught the light scent of pack. They were all clean but not new; the pack scent had seeped into the fabric so strongly that it might as well have been woven that way.

It was—nice, Hoseok reluctantly admitted. They smelled nice. They smelled crisp and warm and homey without musk or spices that made his nose burn.

Wisteria, he realized.

His familial pack’s territory had wisteria that climbed up a fence, bright and purple and able to shield him from the world. Hoseok had hidden in it often, sometimes with a book he’d snuck away from his older siblings, sometimes with pretty daydreams, usually with fresh bruises, real and metaphorical.

It was a beautiful scent, comforting and familiar, and it made him feel sick.

His teeth felt on edge. He knew that feeling.

He quickly covered his nose until he could stick his face out of the window, breathing in deeply, trying to clear the wisteria from his system.

He wouldn’t have a fit. He wouldn’t. Not so early, not before even an hour had passed in his new cage. He couldn’t always stop it, but he had to. He wanted to get through these last few months without pain, without punishment. It took a few heart-thumping moments before he calmed down just enough for his tiny fangs to stop feeling each heartbeat. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing fresh air to keep it at bay.

Time passed oddly for him most of the time, either too slowly when he was locked in captivity or too quickly when he latched on to some hint of freedom. He wasn’t sure how long had passed when he heard voices downstairs, and the rabbit-jump of his heart started up all over again. It was less intense, this time, not strong enough to forebode an attack. He couldn’t make out the words, nor could he smell any new scents so far away. It was the rest of the pack, he knew, at least some of them.

Dread built steadily and heavily in Hoseok’s stomach. Meeting anyone was intimidating, meeting a pack was even more so—especially when he had just become their ward. Especially when he was a ward they didn’t yet know would be unwanted.

He swallowed thickly, pressing himself against the wall farthest from the door, straining to hear their voices to no avail. They were still too muffled even when he crept closer, even when he nearly pressed his ear to the door.

It was a relief, he thought, or it would be later on. If he couldn’t hear them now, they wouldn’t be able to hear it when he inevitably went feral, when breathing fresh air and losing time wouldn’t be enough. Maybe he wouldn’t be shoved into another home if they couldn’t hear the terrible ferocity in his growls or the destruction he tended to wreak on rooms. It was a nice room. He felt preemptively sorry for wrecking it.

He leapt back as soon as he heard a step on the stairs, scrambling to press himself against the furthest wall once more, tucking himself pitifully into the corner and staring warily at the door. He crouched down and made himself small, hoping to appease whoever was coming near.

He didn’t say anything at the quiet knock—it had been preceded by a moment of obvious shuffling so the noise was no surprise, even if it had made him jump. The door opened after another few moments of silence, just a crack.

“Hoseok-ssi? May I come in?” The light floral scent wafted into the room, and Hoseok couldn’t hold back the just-above-silent keen he let out. His cheek burned as an omega peeked into the room, offering an almost-shy smile. “Hello. I’m Seokjin. It’s nice to meet you.”

Hoseok stared at him before nodding once.

“You can call me hyung, if you’d like,” Seokjin said, offering a small bow as he stepped in. “I know we don’t know each other well yet, but you don’t have to be formal in your own home.”

Hoseok was silent, watching as Seokjin sat on the floor, cross-legged and nonthreatening, the door half-open behind him. An escape. Perhaps he wanted Hoseok to think it was an escape for him, but he was glad Seokjin had one instead. He didn’t feel an episode coming on, but the sight of a pretty omega with a beautiful scent could very well be enough to bring one on without much warning.

“I know this is scary,” Seokjin said, folding his hands in his lap. He looked so proper there, a perfect omega with perfect posture and a perfect face. 

Everything Hoseok wasn’t. 

“And I know you won’t believe me right away,” he continued, “but I want you to know that you’re safe here. We won’t harm you or threaten you or treat you as—as subhuman.”

As an omega, Hoseok heard.

“I promise you that. And we’ll work hard to fulfill that promise and to earn your belief. And trust, I hope.

Hoseok swallowed, listening for a moment to make sure Seokjin really was alone. An unsupervised omega around him—they were foolish, he supposed. Or they thought he was a fool.

“You’ve had ferals,” he said after a moment. His voice was hoarse and the words felt grainy in his mouth; he hadn’t spoken more than necessary in months.

“Yes,” Seokjin agreed easily. “Two.”

Hoseok stared.

“They’re not here,” he continued without prompting, like Hoseok had asked the question aloud. “They’ve gone to other packs. Not—not through an agency.” 

How? Hoseok thought. 

Seokjin answered. “They met packs we’re friends with and felt at home with them. The first was a few years back, the second just ten months ago. He chose the wall color in here, actually—” He smiled, nodding at the bright yellow wall. “If it’s not to your liking we can change it. It’s a nice color to wake up to, I think, especially on cloudy days.”

He clearly didn’t expect an answer, but Hoseok gave him one anyways. “Pretty.” He meant it, though he only really aimed to be agreeable.

“Yes,” Seokjin smiled brightly. “Hoseok-ssi—it’s nice to hear your voice.”

Hoseok furrowed his brows. He didn’t see a slight in his eyes, only kindness and honesty. Hoseok wasn’t naive enough to believe it.

“Jungkookie and I are glad to have another omega in the house.”

Hoseok bit his cheek. “Another.”

“Mm. Two alphas, two betas. And three omegas, now.”

“Three.”

Seokjin grinned. “It comes in handy. Our pack is wonderful—granted, I am biased—and ostensibly omegas are on equal footing, but—ah, do nothing but pout and everyone falls over themselves to do our bidding. It’s very fun. And I’m the eldest, our Jungkookie is the youngest—triple the advantage.”

Hoseok swallowed, furrowing his brow as he listened to the hall once more. “Dangerous.”

“Hm? You?”

Hoseok nodded.

“I know.”

Hoseok blinked in surprise, expecting the usual ‘Oh, dear, I’m sure you’re not, omegas are too soft to be dangerous.’

“You have reason to be, I think. Omegas—” Seokjin pursed his lips, glancing away as he chose his words. “We’re smart, you know? Clever. Our instincts are better than alphas, better than betas, sometimes, too. We’re survivors. If going feral was what it took for you to survive—there were reasons. And I wish there weren’t, of course, I wish that had never been the case, but—you’re here. You may be dangerous, but we’re not fragile. You may harm us. We know that. We hope—we hope we can help you not need that impulse. That’s all.”

“Why?” Hoseok asked, unable to hold back.

He shrugged. “Because we care. We don’t have a history with ferals, we don’t have some tragic backstory that makes us compassionate about feral omegas in particular—we just care. We want to do what we can to help.” 

Hoseok could tell he was listening to the hall, too; he leaned back, closing the door nearly enough for it to catch before looking back to him. 

“And we want to keep you out of the omega center.”

Hoseok blinked. The omega center was hardly ever referenced outright. Even omega services spoke about it in hushed tones, like it was something too horrible to speak.

“Yoongi, our other alpha—he worked at one once, and no one—no one deserves that.” Seokjin swallowed and took a shaky breath. It must be as terrible as Hoseok had heard. Maybe worse. “I read your file,” he said abruptly. “Only Namjoon and I did. I know—you’re close to it, I know your history, I know—I know you’re on your last chance. We will do everything we can to keep you safe, and I ask that you allow us the chance.”

Hoseok looked away.

Seokjin took a deep breath, pushing himself to his feet and determinedly lightening his voice. “Dinner should be ready by now, I think. Walk down with me?”

Hoseok obeyed. Omega or not, Seokjin clearly had some authority. He’d already tested his luck enough talking to him so brusquely.

Dread sat heavy in his stomach as they went down the stairs, Hoseok following a few steps behind. The voices of the pack grew louder the closer they got but they quieted as soon as Seokjin and Hoseok came into view.

“Hoseok-ssi,” Namjoon smiled, “good afternoon. I hope you’re settling in well.”

He couldn’t answer. He sat stiffly with Jin’s gentle guidance, placed, likely deliberately, between Jin and a spring-scented beta who gave him a crescent moon-eyed smile.

“I’m Jimin,” he offered, giving him a polite bow. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Hoseok couldn’t bring himself to answer once more, not even to nod. He stared at him for a moment before ducking his head, jaw tensing. He didn’t want to make the betas aggravated with him, either, certainly not for rudeness. He’d felt safe enough with Jin—at least emboldened enough—to ask improper questions, to look at him in an improper way, but that was solely because of his status. Even if he touted ‘equality’ in their pack, Hoseok knew better.

“I’m Jungkook,” an omega across the table said. 

Hoseok glanced up; Jungkook was restless, squirming slightly, his eyes wide and eager as he took Hoseok in. Seokjin had said they were happy to have another omega in the den, and looking at Jungkook’s puplike excitement, Hoseok almost believed it.

“You’re really pretty,” Jungkook blurted, his cheeks pinkening. “And you smell really good—”

“Kook-ah,” an alpha chided—Yoongi, Hoseok figured. He was looking at Jungkook with overwhelming fondness, though, and Jungkook was clearly not terrified of the chastisement as Hoseok would have been.

Jungkook nodded once. They must have discussed—something before his arrival. Hoseok wasn’t sure what. “I’m—it’s nice to meet you, Hoseok-ssi. And I won’t—I promise I won’t jump on you.”

Hoseok furrowed his brows.

“Kook-ah,” Yoongi said again, the name almost a laugh. “He gets enthusiastic, Hoseok-ssi, that’s all. Our big puppy.”

Jungkook giggled, squirming again. “I’ll be good. I promised.”

“You’re always good,” Jimin said, wrinkling his nose and kicking at him lightly under the table. “Often in a very excitable way.”

“Taehyung,” the other beta interrupted, leaning forward to see him from Jimin’s other side. “I promise I won’t jump on you either.”

Yoongi snorted. “I’m Yoongi. We don’t expect you to remember our names right away so don’t worry about that,” he smiled kindly. “There’s quite a few of us and only one of you, so we have it a bit easier.”

Hoseok didn’t meet his eyes but nodded once, swallowing thickly. He jumped when food was spooned into his bowl, a heaping serving of rice followed by more meat than he’d been served in the past two years—they must be testing him, he thought. The packs before wanted to make sure he kept his lithe figure, giving him omega-typical half servings of everything, only scoffing if he dared ask for more. He tried to ignore the way his stomach growled; the last thing he’d eaten was the bland porridge omega services had given him that morning, only filling in theory.

Around him, the pack began to eat, chatting between bites and refilling each others’ cups and plates, seemingly regardless of subgender or age. Hoseok swallowed, watching it all through his lashes, unwilling to fully look up in case he caught someone’s eye. A nudge to his shoulder made him jump hard enough that he shook the table, but the pack continued on politely as if they hadn’t felt it.

“Do you not care for meat?” Jimin asked quietly, kindly. “I can fix something else if you’d like?”

Hoseok quickly shook his head, the thought of the beta going through any trouble for him almost nauseating.

“Would you take a few bites of rice at least?” he asked, still only loud enough for Hoseok to hear. “If your stomach can handle it.”

Hoseok waited for a tense moment, trying his best to sense deception. Finding none, he took a small, shaky bite, and was rewarded with Jimin’s bright smile and another nudge.

“Thank you,” Jimin said, going back to the conversation at large. 

He nudged Hoseok every other minute, prompting him to take another bite until there was a sizable dent in his rice. He’d eaten all the bulgogi against his better judgment—if it was a test, he’d likely already failed. He might as well have a nice taste of false-freedom before any punishment was wrought.

Even as the food was depleted and dishes were cleared, there was no sign of punishment coming his way—Seokjin even asked if he’d had enough, if he’d like some more, if he’d like dessert. Hoseok hadn’t had anything sweet in months, when his last foster pack had kept him on his knees and fed him pieces of melon by hand until they realized he still wouldn’t submit. They’d spanked him after, for maintenance, they said, and locked him in his windowless little room when he still refused to go all doe-eyed and complacent.

Hoseok shook his head, of course; if the meal itself hadn’t been a test, there was no way the prospect of more was not. Even if the thought of a drop of honey was enough to make his too-full stomach want just one more bite.

He must have been much more obvious about it than he thought; that night, when he went to his room, there was a plate of tiny tea cakes waiting for him.

They aren’t homemade but they’re my favorites. Brush your teeth after~ Jinnie-hyung.

Hoseok shocked himself by not scarfing them down with frantic abandon; instead, he nibbled at once, savoring the taste as he looked out the window. He obeyed the note and brushed his teeth in the ensuite bathroom after, even chancing a quick shower since they’d left clean towels and new neutral-scented toiletries out.

He didn’t nest. He wouldn’t nest.

But he curled up on the futon with a blanket pulled snug over his shoulders and his face buried in a plush pillow and tried to fall asleep to the quiet sounds of life outside the door.

Chapter Text

Hoseok didn’t expect time to pass by so quickly.

In his previous foster packs, seconds were distorted by fear or ferality or whatever else tended to course through him. Sometimes it felt much too slow, every minute of an alpha scruffing his neck like it would bring him comfort taking at least an hour to go by. Sometimes it felt much too fast, when already-brief moments of calm sanity seemed to flit by him, often too quickly to truly hold on.

But with the Kim pack—breathing came easier, minutes ticked by in pace with the clock. There were times where he rushed up to his room, holding his breath to keep wisteria from making his vision tinge even faster, but he always managed to lock himself in before an episode took hold. He hadn’t had any truly bad ones yet; he would usually hunker down in the closet with the door closed, growling at each noise but growing desperately silent the moment he heard anyone come close to his room. 

Sometimes he’d have an almost dissociative fit when he was around others, freezing and watching everyone with wary eyes, ready to lash out if someone got too close. No one ever did. He would let out an almost-silent warning growl and they would back off, continuing about their lives as if nothing was wrong, as if there wasn’t what amounted to a beast in their home. He’d slink back to his room when he snapped out of it, trying to ignore the shame that washed over him for hours after.

Shame was confusing. He hadn’t felt shame in a long time, not for an episode. He’d felt a bitter acceptance, an almost righteous strain of you should have known directed at whoever had triggered it. But the Kim pack—he didn’t want them to see him like that, like an animal, like someone not worthy of the humanity they graciously offered him. He didn’t want them to realize he wasn’t worth it, though he knew they would in the end.

He shouldn’t care, not the way he did. He tried to convince himself that he only cared because he didn’t want to be sent to another pack before being locked away in the center, but the truth stared him in the face every time he tried. He didn’t want the pack to hate him. He didn’t want them to fear him. He didn’t want them to realize he was a useless waste of space, a ruined omega, a feral nothing, because he didn’t want to be. Not to them.

-

As he had done the past two weeks, Jimin made sure his steps were audible before knocking lightly on Hoseok’s door.

“Hoseok-ssi? I’m thinking of going on a walk. Would you like to come?”

The shock of it made him blink, blurting out from behind the door. “Outside?”

He could hear the smile in Jimin’s voice. “Just around the property. It’s a lovely day out.”

Hoseok was silent for a long moment before opening the door. “I-I—Beta-ssi, alphas—?”

“I asked Joonie-hyung if it was okay,” Jimin assured, holding out his hand. Hoseok took it without thought.

“What if I run?” Hoseok blurted.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Jimin said, squeezing his hand. “I, ah. I honestly don’t know the what if in that situation.”

“I won’t,” he said quickly. “I won’t run, beta-ssi.”

“Call me Jimin,” he reminded him, giving his hand another squeeze, shooting him a warm smile. “Is that a yes?”

Hoseok swallowed, glanced back at his room, with its four walls and dark closet and locking door. “Y-yes. Jimin-ssi.”

“Great!” Jimin didn’t let go of his hand as they went downstairs, chattering happily even as they put their shoes on. Hoseok hadn’t had much reason to wear shoes the past few years, even the new slides Jimin pushed his way. He shifted on his feet, taking a deep breath as Jimin opened the door.

It was nice out, just cloudy enough to give them the occasional reprieve from the summer sun. Jimin stretched, going on his tiptoes as he reached up towards it, opening his eyes just in time to see Hoseok shiver from a gentle breeze.

“Oh! Should we get you a jacket—”

Hoseok shook his head quickly. “I—” he stopped, folding his arms over his chest. “I haven’t felt—outside in a while.”

Jimin’s face visibly fell; Hoseok’s cheeks absolutely burned at the obvious pity.

“Oh, baby,” Jimin clicked his tongue. Hoseok’s cheeks burned more at the name, though it was something that would normally make him grit his teeth. “We’ll have to fix that, hm? We have a really nice trail around the lake that’s great for walking.”

He held out his hand again and Hoseok knew he could ignore it, but he took it without meeting his eyes.

Jimin started walking, only letting Hoseok fall a step behind him. “Here’s the garden,” he said as they walked through it, a path of stepping stones winding around various flowering bushes and shrubs. “There’s a vegetable garden on the other side of the house—though it has more fruit, really.” He grinned. “Most of the melons and berries we eat come from it. I don’t think they’re as sweet as store-bought, honestly, but there’s something about having grown them yourself that makes them sweeter. Though it’s really Taehyungie and Joonie-hyung who grow them. Everyone else just reaps the benefits.”

Though it didn’t seem he expected a response, Hoseok nodded. “D-do they—do they grow the flowers?”

“Mm, they do, but it’s really Yoongi-hyung’s baby. Hyungs bought this house when it was just the three of them. Jin and Yoongi hyungs were mated first—arranged, can you believe it?” He grinned at Hoseok, bumping their shoulders companionably. “Tae and I came in later, after Jungkook joined the pack. They were all so perfect together, it really seemed like—it all came together naturally, perfectly. Like they were all born for each other.” He smiled, almost wistfully. “We all belong together, don’t get me wrong. Tae and I don’t have any insecurity about our place here, it’s just—there’s something almost magical about them. It’s—well, it’s a story, most of it lovely, some of it not. It’s not mine to tell, I think, but—if you ask about it, they’ll tell you. Ask Jin, though, he’s the best storyteller of them all.”

Hoseok very, very much doubted he would ever do such a thing. “Oh.”

“Ah—” Jimin pointed. “That’s the boathouse. It’s—well, it’s half shed, half boathouse. There are a couple kayaks in there, and, like, four rakes because Joonie-hyung kept losing them under leaves and finding them after buying a new one by stepping on it and getting hit in the face like a cartoon character.”

Hoseok snorted without meaning to and Jimin laughed. 

“He almost broke his nose, once! I couldn’t stop laughing even as I cleaned him up. Really a treasured memory.”

Hoseok stumbled when he caught sight of a pond, certainly not the lake Jimin had mentioned, but a captivating thing Hoseok hadn’t expected in the slightest.

“Oh,” he breathed, letting go of Jimin’s hand to peer into the water. Koi swam around in gorgeous swirls, calicos and oranges and blacks and whites weaving around each other peacefully. He kneeled in the dirt to see them closer as Jimin sat on a bench close by, swinging his legs contentedly.

“Do you like them?”

Hoseok nodded, not taking his eyes off of them. “I love koi fish,” he said quietly, tilting his head as a big one swam near the surface, almost inviting a pet. “They’ve always—they’ve always been one of my favorites.”

Jimin cooed, putting his elbows on his knees and putting his face in his hands. “Taehyungie will love that. Maybe you can give them names other than One, Two, Three.”

Hoseok’s heart squeezed at the thought of naming them. It suggested permanency that he was terrified of and tantalized by in turn. And Taehyung was already not sure about him; he might feel that Hoseok was encroaching even by looking at them now. The thought made him turn away with a thick swallow. 

“Y-you said—a lake?” Hoseok prompted, thankful when Jimin nodded enthusiastically and hopped up from the bench. He wasn’t sure if it was an obvious change of topic, but Jimin ran with it either way. He took Jimin’s hand when he held it out again, too, allowing him to help pull him up, not pulling away even as they started to walk once more.

“There,” Jimin said, pointing into the distance with his free hand. “It’s perfect for swimming in the middle of summer.” Hoseok didn’t need to look at him to see the fond, wistful smile on his face. “We’ve spent many, many, many days getting sunburned and pushing each other off the dock. I’m looking forward to many more. Yoongi and Seokjin hyungs like to fish, too, though they don’t ever seem to catch a lot.” He grinned, shooting Hoseok a conspiratorial wink. “I have a feeling they get up to something else all alone out here.”

Hoseok’s ears tingled as he blushed.

Jimin laughed, letting go of his hand. Before Hoseok could give in to the stupid urge to whine, Jimin looped his arm around his waist, pulling him a tiny bit closer. It wasn't—possessive, or controlling, or meant to make him stay put. It was nice. Hoseok never wanted it to end, and needed it to end immediately.

He took a quick step to the side, jerking away from Jimin’s touch. He scratched at his own arms with urgency, trying to stave it off.

“B-beta-ssi—” he choked out, taking another step back when Jimin made to reach for him. “J-Jimin, Jimin-ssi, I—”

“Oh. Ah, Hoseok-ssi, let’s go back to the koi pond, hm? It’s close, we can sit for a little while.”

Hoseok gave him a jerky nod, jumping when Jimin touched his arm but not feeling the need to run. He let himself be guided to the koi pond as his vision began to cloud over, barely noticing when Jimin gently guided his hands away from his arms, putting a protective hand over the worst of the scratches. His legs felt both numb and overly sensitive at the same time

He fell to his knees at the edge of the pond, staring down at the gentle ripples in the water, trying to follow the fish instead of allowing his eyes to anxiety-flick at every noise. He bit out a whimper when Jimin sat next to him, crunching a twig under his foot. He didn’t sit close enough to touch—Hoseok would have to go out of his way to even brush shoulders with him.

“S-sorry,” he whispered hoarsely.

Jimin shook his head, meeting his eyes in the water’s reflection. “It was my fault,” he assured quietly, sadly. “I shouldn’t have taken liberties. Are we okay to sit here for a while or—?”

“Think—think so,” Hoseok said, scrubbing at his eyes with his hand until they ached. “J-Jimin-ssi, if I—don’t try to—” he let out a ragged breath. “Just—run, if I try to hurt you. Please. R-run back to the pack and—and just—”

“I’ll run if I need to,” Jimin promised solemnly, “but only if I need to. Let’s sit for now.”

Hoseok nodded once, squeezing his eyes shut as he took his hand away, digging his fingers into the dirt like they could keep him rooted. It wouldn’t be bad, he thought. Maybe. Hopefully. 

He kept thinking, hoping, that it wouldn’t be a bad one—before realizing that, so far, it wasn’t one at all. He was still there, even if he was jaw-clenchingly tense with his fingers stiff in the ground. He could smell Jimin’s ebbing worry beside him, could hear the breeze shifting leaves above, could see the pretty fish weaving around each other with all the serenity Hoseok had never felt.

He met eyes with Jimin’s reflection and was nearly blinded by his soft smile.

“Can we go back?” Hoseok asked.

“Of course,” Jimin said, standing and holding a hand out. Hoseok took it after a long moment of hesitation, allowing himself to be pulled to his shaky feet. “Why don’t we try to walk around the lake tomorrow?”

Hoseok nodded once, falling into step with him as they trailed back through the yard and garden. “I-I can still—?”

“Of course, Hoseok-ssi. Not by yourself, preferably, but—nothing has changed.”

Hoseok nodded again, swallowing thickly. He wouldn’t have been surprised if they punished him with isolation at the very least, but—nothing had changed, according to Jimin. He just wasn’t sure if he believed it.

Chapter Text

Touches from the pack were more intoxicating than Hoseok thought they would be. He knew he was starved for affection, no amount of lying to himself could make him believe otherwise, but he hadn’t been so desperate for it before. Perhaps it was just that he knew how easily he could get it—if he came within five feet of any of the pack members, it seemed they would always invite him closer with warm smiles and an outstretched hand, a promise of a gentle touch that he would feel for hours after if he allowed them to give it.

He felt like a tetchy cat sometimes, hazarding a brush against someone’s shoulder or sitting just close enough for them to reach out and pet him, even as he stubbornly sat stiff and still, the only sign that he wanted their touch an absence of a snarl.

Though he remained as distant as he could force himself to be, he always came back for more. He let Jimin rub his back when they sat on the couch, let Yoongi pet his hair with his broad hands, let Taehyung offer timid, fleeting touches to his arm and knee and hovering his hand over Hoseok’s nape without ever actually touching it.

The omegas—he couldn’t help but to need them. And they gave him everything he needed. Though he had some self-control, at least—if they gave him everything he wanted, he’d drown in their scents, be wrapped around at least one of them at all times, be kissed, something he hadn’t ever wanted, not really. Even as a pup hoping fruitlessly for a better life, he hadn’t been so foolishly romantic. At the very most, he’d dreamed of a claiming bite that would give him days without bruises and harsh words, not this new desire for marks that faded only to be renewed.

He felt so much shame whenever that stupid, foolish want arose—it wasn’t his to wish for, it wasn’t his to receive. But Jin and Jungkook would either pull his claws away from his arms whenever they caught him giving himself punishing scratches, or they’d care for them with endless kindness when he came out of hiding hours later.

When Jin gave him a peck on the cheek, Hoseok pushed him away with sudden feral force. After an episode he didn’t even foggily remember, he came to plastered against Jin’s side after the sun had set, the other omega’s arm wrapped around him, his crooked fingers loosely holding Hoseok’s wrist.

“Seokjin-ssi—” Hoseok started hoarsely, burning inside and out.

“Call me hyung, sweetheart,” he insisted, squeezing him closer for a single, glorious second. “You look exhausted, Seok-ah. Rest with me a while longer?”

Hoseok couldn’t answer for a long moment, his voice wavering when he finally forced it out. “Y-yes, hyung.”

It felt much more monumental than Hoseok thought it would, but Jin’s smile made Hoseok think he might feel the same. 

“Thank you, pretty baby,” he said, nearly a coo, though Hoseok only blushed bashfully, rather than with humiliation. Jin, as he always seemed to do, was able to tell the difference. “Ah, such a good omega, being so sweet for hyung—”

Hoseok’s cheeks burned even brighter. “Omega-hyung—”’

“Sweet Hoseokie,” he cooed again. When Hoseok bared his teeth, half-warningly, half-flustered, Jin only smiled, cupping his face. “Such cute fangs, honey boy. Can I touch?”

Hoseok took a moment to feel himself out; he wasn’t close to another episode, still worn out from the one he’d just come out of. Safe. Or at least safe enough. He nodded hesitantly, shivering when Jin brushed over one canine with a thumb before pressing firmly against his gums just above it. Hoseok shivered again, blinking in confusion as the lingering ache lessened.

“Is this okay, Hobah?”

Hoseok shivered yet again, this time at the warm nickname, a gentle familiarity he was still unused to—not that he would ever have the chance to be. He made to nod but didn’t want to jostle Jin’s touch, instead making a silly affirmative “ah” that made Jin smile bright enough Hoseok had to close his eyes.

Emboldened without sight, Hoseok patted around until he found Jin’s other hand, tugging it carefully until Jin brought it up to press above his other fang. Jin cupped his face as he massaged his gums lightly, occasionally giving him a soft scritch at his temples. Hoseok startled at the sudden rumble of a purr. It had been years since he’d been around a true purr, one not forced in a failed effort to calm him. And here Jin was, purring near him, for him.

Jin’s eyes crinkled as he gave him a plush-lip smile. Those same plush lips came closer all at once, pressing a kiss to Hoseok’s forehead before Jin’s nose nuzzled at his hair. It might tickle, Hoseok worried, it had been growing quickly, nearly half an inch now. But even if it did, Jin didn’t pull away—though he did turn his head to press his cheek against his hair instead. Hoseok whined when he moved away from his gums, but Jin purred louder to soothe him and he fell quiet.

Hoseok already knew he wouldn’t shower that night. He wanted Jin’s scent to linger on him as long as it could. He sank into his chest like a pup, sighing when Jin wrapped his arms around him and tucked him closer, encompassing him in a warm cocoon of wisteria-scented cotton. Hoseok wasn’t sure if he’d really let out an uncharacteristic omegan chirp or if he’d just imagined it, but either way, Jin tugged him until he was half on his lap, nose buried in Jin’s shoulder.

“So sweet,” Jin muttered, lips brushing his hair. “My omega, hm?”

Hoseok let out a quiet keen, hiding his face against Jin’s chest. He wanted to be. He wasn’t, but he wanted to be.

“For right now,” Jin promised as if his thoughts were as clear as glass. “You’re my omega right now.”

Hoseok shivered before nodding jerkily. The claim soothed the needy omega part of his brain, the part that wasn’t completely feral, that ached for belonging instead of fearfully scrambling away from it. Seokjin hadn’t asked this time, hadn’t demanded his agreement or consent. He’d told him in no uncertain terms that Hoseok was his.

Seokjin was Hoseok’s hyung, his pack omega, his leader, and Hoseok was his omega.

“My good boy,” Seokjin praised, sending another shiver down Hoseok’s spine, another keen through his throat. “My omega, my Hoseokie.”

-

Perhaps it was Yoongi’s warm scent or his calming presence that settled him, but Hoseok found himself seeking subconscious comfort in the alpha.

After two weeks with the Kim pack, Hoseok found himself not only able but willing to be near all of them—with the exception of Namjoon. Hoseok wasn’t surprised by his own wariness, though he was surprised at Namjoon’s acceptance of it. The pack alpha never forced him closer or demanded his submission like others before him had; he kept his distance without ignoring Hoseok, still offering smiles and conversation at the dinner table without attempting to force him into omega space.

Omega space was too-ambiguous, too-lofty, and too-touted-by-omega-services. Hoseok had a suspicion that it was the pleasure of submission more than anything else, but he’d never felt safe enough to feel that pleasure, even if he felt some intrinsic craving, an itch he could never, would never, scratch.

But Yoongi made him think otherwise.

He drifted off by Yoongi’s side, tucked close enough to feel encompassed and protected. It was closer to omega space than Hoseok had been in a long, long while. Perhaps ever. He just felt—nice, calm and warm, not the focus of the room but an addition that was at least welcomed, if not wanted. He wouldn’t dare to consider himself wanted, but he couldn’t completely ignore the feeling that, in another life, he may have belonged.

Yoongi’s arm was slung comfortably over his shoulders, and he didn’t pull away when Hoseok took hold of his wrist, sleepily pressing his cheek to it after a yawn. He was just a little too out of it to know if the subtle waft of pleased was real or in his dreams.

As far as Hoseok could tell, Yoongi didn’t move as he floated. In the back of his mind he heard the nice click-clacking of keys as he worked on his laptop, felt the careful adjustments Yoongi made to keep his legs from falling asleep without dislodging Hoseok. He tasted—a sensation that, in his state, seemed par for the course—something slightly salty, the weight and fill of it nice in his mouth, so nice to lap at and suck and—

Hoseok’s eyes shot open as he realized.

He jerked away, looking at Yoongi in abject horror, covering his mouth with his hand. “Alpha—” he choked out, anxiety gripping his chest, familiar claws beginning to climb up his spine. He desperately tries to push it down, but there’s no reasoning with the feral beast he was.

“Hobah,” Yoongi started gently, but he must have seen the fog quickly clouding Hoseok’s eyes. “Listen to me, sweetheart,” he said, offering the hand without spit-wet and wrinkled fingers. Hoseok’s breaths came shorter, shallow. He didn’t take it. “I’m not upset. I’m not angry. I enjoyed our time together. I know you’re—close, now, I can’t reel you in, but—but I’m going to stay—until you tell me to go, I’m going to stay.”

Hoseok’s teeth ached. He whined, glancing between Yoongi’s still-offered hand and his face. He looked sincere and serious, though there was—fear? worry? something extra in his dark eyes. Hoseok furrowed his brows, trying to blink back the fog. Something was off about him, though, something—

He bared his teeth, grabbing Yoongi’s wrist and bringing it to his face. He sniffed it roughly, licking over his scent gland once just to make sure. He glared at Yoongi, snarling. “No.”

Yoongi blinked. “I’m—no?”

“No,” Hoseok repeated. He squeezed Yoongi’s wrist warningly. “More.”

“More—” Yoongi blinked. “Oh—oh. My scent? More—”

Hoseok growled and a wave of Yoongi-alpha-Yoongi swept over the room. He was too good at suppressing it, too good at reigning in his emotions and pheromones and scent, and it wasn’t right. Hoseok wanted to bathe in it, wanted Yoongi’s scent over everything in sight, wanted to be marked by him. He growled again at the thought of being scentless, his teeth pressing against Yoongi’s knuckles where he still held his hand to his face.

He could feel Yoongi’s heartbeat in his grip.

“Hoseok-ah,” Yoongi said before yelping as Hoseok bit down.

Good, Hoseok thought. Quiet alpha.

He licked the small spot of blood from Yoongi’s hand before sucking two fingers into his mouth again, gripping his arm protectively. Yoongi didn’t try to pull away, even as Hoseok’s tiny fangs sank surely-painfully into his skin, even as he slowed his gnawing and his grip went slightly more lax. 

He kept watching Hoseok for a long while, just as Hoseok watched him, before reaching out with his other hand. Hoseok growled but didn’t move, didn’t throw himself across the room like he very well might have with anyone else. He growled again, teeth marking Yoongi’s knuckles, as he stroked his hair once, twice. His growls faded into nothing but whimpers, really, as Yoongi pet his hair, never once trying to move away, not even to pull Hoseok closer.

“Good omega,” Yoongi said quietly. Hoseok knew Yoongi must smell the proud-pleased-want that poured out of him all at once, but his eyes didn’t go dark with lust as some in his past foster homes had, nor did he give Hoseok a self-satisfied grin. “You’re so good, Hoseokie. Taking what you need, hm? You need alpha to stay.”

He did. He did. He needed alpha to stay and to smell and to look at him. He didn’t growl, didn’t keen, didn’t sink his teeth in, but Yoongi must have seen something on his face that told him he was right.

Yoongi gave him a soft smile and another wave of his perfect scent made Hoseok’s eyes flutter. “Alpha won’t leave, sweet omega. You have me.”

-

There were gentle moments in between the dark ones; moments of soft touches that made Hoseok’s skin burn so fiercely it was almost painful, moments with smiles and laughter that Hoseok loved to hear even if they rarely came from him. It didn’t feel like forced companionship like it had with his previous foster packs, either. There was no forceful gripping of his hand or scenting til it felt like his neck was raw. It was almost thoughtless, pleasantly so, with no ulterior motive.

Jimin threw himself onto whoever was closest when he laughed sometimes, Hoseok included. Like he was just another member of the pack. 

Jungkook would absentmindedly scent his wrist or just rub his cheek on his shoulder at least daily, often more. He’d muttered an apology the first time it happened, but Hoseok had dismissed it with a quiet “I don’t mind.” Jungkook had asked him for permission the second time, in a shy whisper with wide, hopeful eyes meeting Hoseok’s own. Again, Hoseok had given him an even shyer “I don’t mind,” and it had quickly become part of their whole—thing.

He seemed to have things with almost all the members of the pack, though he still strayed away from the pack alpha and Taehyung, who seemed to be almost clumsy in his attempts to tame Hoseok. Maybe it wasn’t taming, really; he stumbled over his words either too loudly or too quietly, either gravitated towards Hoseok almost too closely or found an excuse to leave the room whenever he saw him. Hoseok was more perplexed by it than anything else. Something about the giggles from the rest of the pack about it all put him at a non-offended ease that he didn’t fully understand.

He had a particular affinity for the omegas, surprising himself. He tended to stay away from any omegas he came across—being around them put them at risk for being hurt when he had an episode, and put him at risk for hurting them, being punished, making everything worse. But Jin and Jungkook called to him, their scents and voices and gentle, gentle hands drawing him in. He felt so calm with them—not normal, never normal, but better than his usual. So much better.

Every time he remembered himself, his situation, his place, he hid himself away in his room, curling up on his bed and covering himself up with a blanket, squeezing his eyes shut to block out any light.

You’re feral, he’d hiss at himself, scathing and cruel. You don’t belong. They’re not yours. Never forget, you’ll be alone in the end.

Chapter Text

Taehyung was still shy around him, hardly the dramatically boisterous boy Hoseok could sometimes hear him being with the rest of the pack, but after three weeks of ducking around corners or speaking much too loudly, they had developed their own sort-of-normal. Though Taehyung didn’t press against his side like Jimin or scent him sweetly like Jungkook, they were still close enough that Hoseok could recognize his personal scent beneath the pack’s wisteria.

And the blanket in Taehyung’s arms was absolutely covered in it.

Hoseok blinked, hands flexing nervously at his sides. Taehyung cleared his throat, glancing up for a moment—gathering himself, Hoseok thought, though he wasn’t sure what he was gathering himself for. He’d just sought Hoseok out in the kitchen and held out a deep green blanket without saying a word; Hoseok’s nerves felt itchy as he tried to figure out what to do, though he knew he wouldn’t do anything until Taehyung made another move.

He still jumped when Taehyung cleared his throat, though his ears had practically been perked for any sign of intention.

“This—I—I got this for you,” Taehyung finally said, meeting Hoseok’s eyes with a determined, if nervous, set to his mouth.

Hoseok stared at him for a long moment, uncomprehending. He looked down at the blanket when Taehyung shifted it in his arms. “Sorry?”

“It’s a gift. I thought—the color, I know—I mean, I think I know, you don’t—maybe you do, I dunno, I just—thought—” he cut himself off so abruptly that Hoseok furrowed his brows, looking up at him.

“Beta-ssi?”

Taehyung took a steeling breath, lifting his chin. “Hyung,” he said, intentionally, delicately, “I hope you accept my gift. I-I mean nothing by it, I just—thought the color was nice.”

Hoseok blinked. “You got it—for me.” 

Though it wasn’t a question, he felt baffled at the very thought. No one had given him something like this before—something to keep. He didn’t even bother acknowledging that he wouldn’t keep it in the end; for now, holding it would be enough.

“I did,” Taehyung said, shoulders relaxing just a bit. “You don’t have to accept, I can take—”

Hoseok snatched it before he could even suggest taking it back, the thought of losing this—his one and only treasure—panic-inducing and painful. He stared at Taehyung almost expecting retribution for his impropriety, but Taehyung only gave him the same bright, boxy, delighted smile he gave his packmates and it warmed Hoseok to his very core.

He pressed the blanket against his face to hide his blushing cheeks. It was so soft, and it smelled so much like Taehyung—not as much as it would have if Taehyung had made a concentrated effort to scent it, but the subtle want to scent was there, saturating the fabric pleasantly. It wasn’t too fleecy or too fluffy or too scratchy, the three things blankets always seemed to be. Somehow Taehyung had scouted out something Hoseok, as texture-sensitive as he tended to be, never wanted to stop touching.

“Thank you,” he said belatedly, face still pressed against the blanket.

“Of course,” Taehyung said. Hoseok didn’t need to see him to hear the smile in his voice.

-

Jimin pouted often enough that Hoseok had learned when to ignore it. He didn’t pause at Jimin's affronted “Hyung!” as he byapassed him to sit at Taehyung’s feet, the green blanket draped around his shoulders. Jungkook laughed as Jimin threw himself on his lap to make up for his abandonment, the sound pleasant and familiar enough that Hoseok allowed himself to close his eyes, leaning his head on Taehyung’s knee.

Taehyung ran his fingers through his hair, humming when Hoseok pushed into his hand.

“Good?” he asked quietly.

Hoseok nodded once. “S’nice, beta-ssi. Thank you.”

“Handsome,” he mumbled, quiet enough to seem inadvertent. Inadvertent or not, Taehyung defended himself when Hoseok’s cheeks reddened. “You are! You’ll be even more handsome when your hair grows out a little.”

Hoseok tensed, brows furrowing. Taehyung continued to pet him, tugging the tiniest, tiniest bit on his short hair. 

“Omega services always shaves it.”

Taehyung’s hand stilled; he heard what Hoseok wasn’t saying.

Hoseok pulled the blanket around his shoulders, ducking his head to nose into the fabric even though it meant dislodging Taehyung. He was glad Taehyung knew he didn’t want to pull away, though, as he ran his fingers through his hair once more after a long moment.

“I’ll see it long, hyung.”

-

Hoseok didn’t think he’d successfully tricked himself into staying detached from the pack, but he did think if he told himself they weren’t his enough, his stupid mind would actually believe it. That wasn’t the case. Of course it wasn’t. Because as soon as Jungkook said he was leaving the den, Hoseok heard nothing but the rush of blood in his ears and the desperate, crazed litany of no, no, no, omega, my omega, stay.

Terror barely had time to course through him as he felt an attack—a genuine attack, a real one, a big one, something he had prayed he’d be able to avoid—sink its claws into him without mercy. He grabbed Jungkook before he could even think of taking another step towards the door, sinking his own dull claws into Jungkook’s chest to keep him there. He could tell Jungkook was confused, unbalanced, but Hoseok didn’t care. What mattered was that Jungkook stayed.

Namjoon and Yoongi both took a few quick steps forward, eyes narrowed and alert. Hoseok growled, a fierce snarl of a thing, tightening his grip on Jungkook and pulling him back, away from the threat. They couldn’t take him away. They wouldn’t.

“Hobi-hyung,” Jungkook said, his soft, lispy voice meant just for him. He didn’t sound afraid, though there was a tremor in his voice. He didn’t even look at the alphas to seek reassurance or permission, only looked over his shoulder at Hoseok with trusting eyes. “Hyung, s’okay. Do you want to go to your nest? We can go to your nest.”

“No nest,” Hoseok snapped. “Not nest.”

“Okay,” Jungkook said easily. “We can build one?”

Hoseok froze, blinked. “Build?”

Jungkook nodded. “Let’s go make a nest, ‘kay? Just me and you. We can lock the doors and get really cozy.”

Hoseok glanced at the alphas. They were quiet; Yoongi had even turned to the side like he’d accepted what was happening so readily that he didn’t even need to watch. Namjoon was still looking at them, but his gaze focused on Jungkook—not even the dangerous arms wrapped around Jungkook’s chest.

“I’ll message the little ones,” Namjoon said. The alpha even his normal voice exuded made Hoseok hiss.

Jungkook nodded, smiling a little. “The pack I was gonna visit,” he explained. “They’re really nice, you’ll meet them one day. We were gonna game together—” his eyes widened as he rushed, “but we can do that any day. I want to stay here with you. I will stay here with you.”

Hoseok’s heart had started to slow, but the tension in his muscles wouldn’t release for quite some time, nor would the fierce need to protect his omega.

Namjoon bowed his head when they met eyes. “We’ll stay down here.”

Hoseok backed away slowly, gripping Jungkook. He didn’t need to; Jungkook came willingly, even finding one of Hoseok’s hands to hold.

He voluntarily locked himself away with a feral omega. He made a nest with a feral omega, even going so far as to curl up in his lap when they were finished, settled in a hastily-built, messy nest in the corner of Hoseok’s room.

Jungkook was never quite so forward because he knew it made Hoseok nervous, but now that Hoseok’s inhibitions were down—even if they were down because of potentially dangerous instincts—they were down enough for Jungkook to comfort him the way he knew best. As soon as Hoseok’s nose touched his neck, Jungkook let out a loud, rumbly purr; the sound of it, feel of it, made Hoseok relax, however minutely.

As it turned out, it was less minute than he thought.

He awoke to a much darker room than they had locked themselves in, the sun no longer pouring in through the lacy curtains. Everything was as they had left it—the dresser Hoseok had pushed against the door was still there, the lock on the door still firmly turned. He knew they had a key to the room, they must, and the dresser was much too light to be a sufficient barricade, but it was untouched, unmoved. The pack hadn’t come to save their omega.

And their omega was curled into him, his nose pressed against Hoseok’s neck, arms hugging around his waist. Hoseok held him tightly as he blinked awake, his own nose in Jungkook’s wavy hair. He always smelled so nice, his scent light and breezy, something Hoseok could only truly definitively describe as fresh air. The wisteria of the pack was woven into his scent like it was meant to be there. It was.

Dread began to fill his chest as he took everything in, remembered what he could of how he had acted, how he had behaved in front of alphas—in front of Namjoon, the pack alpha. They would send him away. There was no way Namjoon could let that stand. There was no way. It was over, and he would deserve their rejection, he’d taken Jungkook—

Jungkook’s nose scrunched at the soured smell of his distress and he blinked awake, furrowing his brows up at him. Still bolder than usual, he cupped Hoseok’s face, thumb brushing the corner of his lips.

“Hyung, s’okay, you’re okay—”

Hoseok’s throat ached as he choked out, “Sorry—”

Jungkook shook his head quickly, sitting up quickly enough to not give Hoseok time to whine at the loss, hugging around his shoulders and gently scenting the back of his neck with his wrist. “Don’t be sorry, hyung. Can’t help it. And I’m okay, you’re okay, everyone’s okay—nothing to be sorry for at all.”

Hoseok couldn’t help the tears that pooled and quickly spilled; he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. Jungkook kept hugging him close, scenting him lightly. “Could have hurt you.”

“You didn’t. I wasn’t scared one single time, omega-hyung. I swear.”

“Should have been."

“I’ve never been good at should haves.” Jungkook squirmed a little in his lap before pulling back, glancing around, whispering almost conspiratorially. “We built a nest.”

Hoseok flushed with shame, closing his eyes once more so he didn’t have to look at it.

Jungkook ran his fingers over his nape. “What? It’s a nice nest, hyung. We made it together.”

Hoseok pursed his lips. “Never meant to nest.”

Jungkook was looking at him with wide, astounded eyes when Hoseok chanced a quick look. “Why not?”

Hoseok looked away, cheeks still burning, chest almost hotter. “Because it—it hurts to tear it down.”

Jungkook blinked. “Then don’t? Keep it up, hyung.”

Hoseok couldn’t help but shoot him an unimpressed look, preemptively mourning once again. His head shot up at the quiet knock on the door, gripping Jungkook closer like he’d be snatched from him as soon as it opened—he very well might.

But the door didn’t open. Jin’s muffled voice called from behind it, “Hoseokie, Jungkookie? Can I come in?”

Hoseok tensed, eyes dropping to the floor. “I don’t want him to see,” he muttered.

Jungkook frowned but nosed his temple. “Not yet, hyung,” he called out, covering Hoseok’s ear enough to make it not quite as loud. “We’ll come out in a little bit.”

“Okay, babies,” Jin agreed, though Hoseok could hear the hesitance behind it. “I’ll be in the living room.”

“Kay,” Jungkook answered.

“Kay,” Hoseok added after a moment, and only then did Jin’s footsteps retreat.

When they began to climb out of the nest—minutes or hours later, Hoseok wasn’t sure—Jungkook tugged on his sleeve.

“Leave it, hyung?” he asked softly, patting a blanket that he himself had placed. “Please? We made it together.”

Hoseok swallowed and nodded once. He didn’t look at it as they left the room, but as soon as he closed the door behind himself that night, he collapsed into it, burying his face in Jungkook’s pretty scent. He slept more deeply than he had in a long time.

-

A few nights later, a storm woke him up. He wasn’t sure what time it was; he didn’t even want to open his eyes to check. If he did, he would return to cruel reality and he’d have to force away the dream that was still playing in his head. 

It felt gossamer-thin now, with thunder playing in the background. It was already a bit shaky, taking place in the Kim pack’s den, a room he’d never even seen, but the packs’ faces were warm and clear. He wrapped his arms around himself, a poor substitute for the way dream-Jin was hugging him from behind, resting his chin on Hoseok’s head. Jimin and Taehyung were talking about something nearby that was silly-sounding but welcomed nonsense. 

The alphas were off to the side, both of them close, closer than Hoseok had let real-Namjoon get since that first day, but dream-Namjoon’s hand was on Hoseok’s ankle, his thumb absentmindedly stroking the jut of his bone. Yoongi was flipping the pages of a book, mumbling the words as he read aloud, mostly to himself.

Hoseok was stroking Jungkook’s hair, his head nestled comfortably on Hoseok’s thighs. His thighs must be more comfortable in the dream, Hoseok floatily thought, glad Jungkook had a nice pillow.

It was so nice and domestic, wisteria-scented even in his sleep. So close to sleep, Hoseok didn’t punish himself for dreaming up things that could never, would never, should never be his. Instead, he wrapped his green blanket around himself tighter and just allowed himself to dream.

Chapter Text

After his episode with Jungkook, the pack didn’t treat him like all the others had. They didn’t keep him locked away, or even separated from their omegas. They didn’t watch him with sharp eyes, ready to smack his claws away or put his fangs behind a muzzle. They didn’t force him into skinship and submission and shower him with false praises like kind words would be enough to keep the monster at bay.

He tried his best to keep from going even softer at their settling dynamic, but—they knew what he wanted, knew what he needed, almost better than himself. Hell, absolutely better than himself. If he knew how to take care of himself, maybe he wouldn’t have ended up feral in the first place.

They kept him company, one of the pack members with him almost all of the time. They touched him without asking permission every time like he’d bite if they didn’t—they held his hand so easily, petted his hair, traced patterns on his arms that made him drift. They seemed to be loud when he needed loudness, quiet when he needed quiet, talked to him when he wanted companionship, talked around him when he wanted company. It was baffling how they always knew him, seemingly as well as they knew each other.

He was always disappointed in himself when he couldn’t help but melt into them—any of them, all of them, even the alphas. It would all be snatched away from him so soon, and he couldn’t imagine that knowing what kindness felt like would make it easier to live without it. But he couldn’t reject it; he didn’t want to reject it. He wanted to bask in their touch and voices and laughter and scents and the comfort he’d never had before.

The omegas—the omegas most of all.

He wondered if he even smelled like himself at this point. Jin and Jungkook scented him so often that he couldn’t imagine he did.

He didn’t often scent them back; he very much doubted they wanted his scent on them anyway, muddling the perfect pack-scent of wisteria with something that didn’t belong. 

But when Jin gently nudged him, when he gave him a look that Hoseok recognized intrinsically, his omega hindbrain calling to him calmly, sweetly, needy and irresistibly, Hoseok would inevitably find himself pressed to Jin’s side—if not held in his lap—with his nose pressed into his neck.

It wasn’t the same with Jungkook, even when he gave Hoseok an overtly imploring pout and tilt of his neck. It would work, he supposed, if he didn’t force himself to turn away and hurry out of the room, too terrified that he might actually hurt the young omega this time.

But Jin—his stupid mind would hiss (or whisper, more often than not lately, without the feral grit he came to expect) at him to—obey wasn’t the right word, it was too harsh, too dominant. He would feel more than hear listen to pack omega, scent pack omega, make pack omega yours, you're pack omegas. In the moment it was comforting and calming and made him sink into the feeling of belonging.

And when he went to bed, curled around himself in the nest that hadn’t changed since Jungkook left his room days ago, that feeling of belonging morphed into a gnarly misery, thorny vines wrapping around him, piercing his skin, squeezing him to the point of suffocation, knowing, remembering, that belonging did not belong to him.

He wanted it more than he ever had, more than he had as a bruised pup, more than he had as an isolated mate, more than he had as a husk of a foster. The Kim pack had seeped into his very bones, and he wanted, needed, it to be true.

When Jin kissed him, wisteria bloomed in Hoseok’s chest.

He stared at Jin, at Jin’s soft smile, the plush lips that had just pressed against his own, the quirked corners he never, never wanted to look away from.

“My pretty omega,” Jin muttered, cupping Hoseok’s cheek and brushing the still-too-sharp line of his cheekbone. “I’d give you a million kisses if I could.”

The wisteria in his chest bloomed more under the sun that was Jin even as Hoseok’s heart shattered behind it all.

“Can’t?” he whispered, tears not even able to rise to his eyes.

Jin shook his head before tucking him close, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I can’t take advantage of you, my sweet omega.”

“I’m your omega?” Hoseok’s voice wavered as he asked, please pretend, please let me pretend in the shadows.

Jin tucked him closer, guiding Hoseok’s face into his neck. “You are. You’re my omega to protect.”

Hoseok sniffled after a moment, squeezing his eyes shut tightly like it would keep out some of the pain. “Want omega hyung to kiss me.”

“My brave boy, hm? Asking for what you want.” Jin sighed, rubbing his back for a moment. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to, Hoseok-ah. We have power over you, whether we want to or not. You really are mine to protect—ours to protect. And being intimate with you is taking advantage. If I’m meant to protect you and I hurt you in the end—ah, Hobah, I can’t bear the thought.”

“Want hyung to kiss me,” Hoseok muttered again. A welled tear had just spilled over when Jin eased him out of hiding, cupping his cheek before he had the chance to hide it. He brushed it away before kissing his forehead, his temple, his hair.

“One day we’ll kiss all we want.”

It sounded like a promise, but it could be nothing but a placation.

One day he would be nothing but a memory, gradually forgotten. And that day would be soon. He’d been with the pack for five weeks now, and in three—he’d be gone.

His memory of the pack would never be forgotten, he was sure. He would be locked away at the center and driven mad by isolation, and even as he scratched at the walls and screamed until his throat was raw, he would feel the ghost of Jin’s lips against his own, Taehyung’s hand running through his hair, Yoongi’s fingers against his cheek as he fed him fruit. The echo of Jimin’s laugh would bounce off the walls, Jungkook’s quiet lisp in the early mornings and late nights replace his own voice. Even the memory of Namjoon’s presence, so overwhelming and possessive and alpha in ways that Hoseok didn’t understand because even when he was feral, even when he was anxious, frantic, terrified, he was never truly scared of Namjoon—he would feel it. He would crave it. He would mourn the loss with sorrowful howls that would earn him a beating.

The scent of wisteria would, he prayed, make his death peaceful.

“I’m tired,” he muttered eventually, closing his eyes so he didn’t have to see Seokjin anymore.

“Want to take a nap together?” Jin asked.

Hoseok could smell the tinge of disappointment, a subtle hurt, in Jin’s scent when he shook his head, but he didn’t stop him as he climbed off his lap.

He didn’t fight the disassociation as he usually did, allowing his mind to drift, thoughts fading to nothing but muffled background noise. Sleep didn’t come; he stared at the wall for hours, curled in his pitiful nest that he would, one day, have to destroy. 

Maybe he wouldn’t, maybe he’d let the pack do it after he left. But no, he needed to, needed to drive the stake into his heart, see it done. If he didn’t, he might have hope that it was still there, even if it was untouchable—he couldn’t go to the omega center with hope. He wouldn’t.

-

He came to with lethargy clouding his movements, his sight. But through the fog—Jin sat beside his nest, petting Hoseok’s hair absentmindedly as he stared out the window. Hoseok hadn’t heard him come in, had no idea how long he’d been there. As soon as he started to lift his head, Jin startled out of the trance he’d been in, looking down at him with wide eyes.

“Hoseokie—” he started before stopping himself.

Hoseok blinked groggily but was more aware and awake than he had ever been when Jin pressed his lips to his own once more, giving him a chaste whisper of a kiss that someone made Hoseok feel—normal. Human. Worth something more than omega center fodder.

“I love you, Hoseok-ah,” he said quiet and firm. “If you want it, if you really want it—”

Hoseok surged up, kissing him with more teeth than he meant to but Jin didn’t push him away. He held him closer, and closer still when Hoseok melted into his touch.

“Omega-hyung,” he breathed out against his lips. Jin just nodded before kissing him again, unwilling to part.

Hoseok felt what he didn’t say. He was his.

He knew better than to hope, but the feral wolf that forced itself on him when hope arose seemed to stay quiet for once, surrounded by wisteria and sitting, perplexed, head cocked to the side. The wolf had bloody teeth and bladed claws, but at that moment, he was no more than a curious puppy.

-

“Oh,” said a voice from the doorway.

Hoseok jumped away, staring at Namjoon in shock, kiss-red lips parting in confusion before pulling back in a snarl. Jungkook, leaning against Jin’s side as Jin held Hoseok in his lap, held onto his wrist with a gentle grip, Jin’s arm tightening around his waist.

“Hey—” Namjoon cleared his throat, bowing apologetically. “Hoseok-ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Jin clicked his tongue. “Don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt omegas, alpha-ssi?”

“Yeah, alpha-ssi!” Jungkook said, pout evident in his voice.

Hoseok jerked his stare away from Namjoon to look at Jungkook with terrified shock—Jin could chide alphas as the pack omega, even if it had to be dangerous to scold the pack alpha. But Jungkook—

Hoseok scrambled off Jin’s lap, covering Jungkook’s body with his own as best as he could, baring his teeth with a defensive growl.

Namjoon glanced between Hoseok and the peek of Jungkook’s eyes he could see over Hoseok’s shoulder before holding his hands behind his back non threateningly, intentionally relaxing his posture and smoothing out his face.

“My apologies, omegas. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

He took a step back and the movement made Hoseok growl, even if it meant he was farther away.

“Hurt,” he bit out lowly, only loud enough for Jin and Jungkook to hear.

Jungkook nosed his shoulder. “No hurt,” he promised in a whisper. “It’s just Joonie-hyung. Alpha never hurts us.”

Namjoon hadn’t hurt anyone since Hoseok arrived, at least to his knowledge. He had no reason to disbelieve him, but—he was feral. Reason meant little to him.

“Escape,” he bit out even quieter, determined to keep it from the alpha’s ears. “Leave.”

Jin took his hand, squeezing it to let him know he heard. “You can have the room, Joon-ah. We’re going up to the nest.”

Hoseok continued to cover Jungkook as he backed out of the room, guided by Jin’s hand that kept him from bumping into corners. He didn’t pay attention to where they were going—he’d heard nest and assumed it would be his own, he had no reason to think otherwise. He was too busy listening for Namjoon to follow them to realize where he was being led until the pack scent swept over him in a dizzying, overwhelming wave.

Jungkook crawled into the pack nest immediately, flopping clumsily onto his tummy on the mass of pillows. Jin shut the door behind them, rubbing the small of Hoseok’s back without trying to force him in further.

Jungkook turned onto his back, pouting at Jin. “The pillowcases are fresh!”

“Only some of them,” Jin reassured. “Someone’s been drooling—”

Jungkook kicked the blankets, cheeks going pink. “Hyung! Don’t tell Hobi-hyung that—”

“He’d find out sooner or later, slobbery pup—”

“Hyung,” he whined. He kicked again before turning his pout to Hoseok. “Will you scent them? At least one?”

Hoseok stared, trying to take a step back but backing into Jin instead. He steadied him with an arm around his waist, Jin’s hand finding its way under his shirt to touch his bare skin.

“Are you okay, baby?”

Hoseok stared at Jungkook for a long moment, gaze flickering to the empty spaces around him every few minutes. “Nest,” he muttered.

“Mm. Our nest.”

“Will you come in, hyung?” Jungkook asked, sitting up. “Want you.”

Hoseok didn’t notice that he’d started shaking until Jin cooed, pressing a kiss to his hair and spreading his hand flat on his tummy.

“You don’t have to, honey,” he assured quietly. “We can go somewhere else.”

Hoseok jerked his head after a moment, stumbling to the very edge of the nest but freezing before he could even start stepping in.

“With me, Hoseok-ah?” Jin asked. Hoseok couldn’t agree; he couldn’t imagine asking for so much—but when Jin guided him in, he couldn’t imagine stopping him.

He sank to his knees in the middle of the nest, sinking into it much too easily. It shouldn’t be so easy, he heard in the back of his mind. But it was. It felt much too familiar, even as he tried without meaning to to memorize the clouds that surrounded him, the carefully arranged walls on one side, the side farther from the door more haphazard. He couldn’t tell who had put what where, nor could he tell if the pack had usual places in the nest.

It made it easier for Jungkook to coax him down, wrapping his arms and legs around him as soon as Hoseok was close enough. Jin smiled at the sight, sitting beside them and letting Hoseok press his back into him, wanting to feel him even closer.

Hoseok didn’t move—couldn’t, really, with Jungkook practically absorbing him—when the door cracked open just a bit. That didn’t stop the sharp growl he let out, though it quieted at Jimin’s whisper.

“Sorry,” he said, slipping into the room and closing the door behind him. “I wasn’t sure where anyone was.”

He stepped into the nest, coming close to give Jungkook the kiss he was pouting for before settling beside him, spooning Jungkook from behind and reaching around him to hold Hoseok, too. Hoseok stared at him, though Jimin didn’t seem perturbed. He smiled, reaching up to stroke Hoseok’s hair; he smiled even brighter when Hoseok pushed into his hand without really meaning to, chasing his touch.

Jungkook let out a loud rumbly purr under him, sudden enough to startle him. Jin snorted, stretching to the side to grab a book.

“Jin-hyung—” Jimin said, but his voice was drowned out by the steady rumble of Jungkook’s purr. If he tried, he could pick out their conversation, piece the pleasant sound of their voices together to make words, but Hoseok didn’t really want to try.

And even when an alpha came into the nest, Yoongi freezing at the door until Jimin clicked his tongue and waved him in, Hoseok didn’t want to run.

He watched everything with hooded eyes, deliberately sinking into Jungkook’s loud purr; he was still tense, he was absolutely shocked every time one of the pack managed to make him untense, but he didn’t feel the need to run, or growl, or try to fight away potential threats before they were ever realized. He didn’t feel—normal, at least he didn’t think so. His teeth were much too achey to be normal, his bones buzzing restlessly but quelled by the stronger buzz of Jungkook’s chest, of the voices filling the den.

Taehyung came in, curling up at Hoseok and Jin’s feet without a word, holding onto Hoseok’s ankle and stretching up to hold Jimin’s hand. Yoongi settled in at Jin’s side with a book of his own, though, from Hoseok’s routine glances at them, he was pretty sure Yoongi was mostly reading Jin’s over his shoulder. Jimin and Taehyung talked about something that Hoseok couldn’t quite follow, with Jungkook interjecting every so often, unwilling to let his purr die down to truly join in.

It was only when Namjoon came in that Hoseok let out a purr of his own.

It was stilted and unpracticed, an almost uncomfortable rumble rattling around a dusty cavern in his chest. It kept going even when Jungkook’s purr abruptly cut off because he could smell—something, he wasn’t sure what emotion was flooding out of all of them, but it was all wisteria and light and good.

Namjoon was quiet as he got into the nest, sitting at Jimin’s side—close to the door, Hoseok thought, a pleased rumble in his throat. Strong alpha. Protect the pack.

He met Namjoon’s eyes and held his gaze, even as Jungkook nuzzled into his neck to feel the vibrations more, his own smooth, loud, familiar purr stirring up once more. Namjoon didn’t look away, even as he slowly settled against the pillows, tucking Jimin to his chest and nosing his hair.

“Wish I could purr,” he heard Taehyung pout, though he sounded underwater. Hoseok stopped purring. That wouldn’t be right.

He pushed himself up just enough to glare at him, narrowing his eyes. “Good beta.”

Taehyung blinked. “Uh—?”

“Not—no purr. Don’t need.”

Taehyung’s eyes went wide for a moment before he crawled up to lay on top of him, heavy and warm and endearingly pup-like. “Ah, Hobi-hyung—-”

“Don’t need,” he repeated stubbornly, though it came out as an almost-wheeze with Taehyung on top of him. He didn’t want him to move, though. Not ever.

He settled back down, meeting Namjoon’s eyes once again. And as soon as he did, as soon as he heard Jin and Yoongi behind him and felt Taehyung and Jungkook holding him close and saw Jimin beaming and teary-eyed on Namjoon’s lap, he purred once more. Still rough, still unpracticed, but a little smoother than even a moment before.

Chapter Text

Hoseok lasted til the first day of the sixth week before breaking.

After the night spent in the pack nest, he could barely sleep in his own. Each night, he ached to be with them, an invisible rope tugging on him incessantly, insisting that he be with them, be with his pack. That longing was accompanied by so much shame; he wasn’t their omega, not really, they weren’t his pack. All he was doing was leading himself on and allowing himself a false sense of belonging that would be so, so horrible when it was ripped away from him.

He kept falling into an uneasy sleep during the day, usually slumped against the side of whoever had sat next to him, regardless of who it was. Even if their touches and scents and warmth gave him a heart-squeezing amount of comfort, he still couldn’t truly rest, the still ever-present dark circles under his eyes becoming darker each day.

They doted on him even more, he was pretty sure, giving him worried looks and quiet coos and purrs that attempted to lull him to sleep. It wasn’t til Jin kissed him softly, smoothing out the furrow of his brow, that Hoseok gave in.

He would lose his mind in the omega center. He would go completely feral. There would be none of the episodes he’d experienced up til now, his entire short and miserable life would be spent not in his own mind. He would be a shell of himself, he would be empty, he would be alone. Maybe if he let himself have this, have the pack—maybe it would be quicker. It may hurt more, it would hurt more, but it would end. It would always end.

He laid in his nest for an hour after everyone went to bed, maybe two, before he became just feral enough to move on impulse. He was still quiet as he crept into the den, moving on light feet as he tried to find a place to slip in. He had just decided on a little spot on the very outskirts of the nest next to Jimin when a deep, rumbled “Seok-ah?” made him freeze.

When he looked cautiously over his shoulder, Namjoon was blinking sleepily at him from the other side, eyes glinting by the moonlight pouring in past the curtains. Hoseok kept staring, frozen in place. But when Namjoon adjusted the blankets, held them up for him invitingly, Hoseok stumbled over to him without hesitation, climbing in beside him and tucking himself against his chest.

Namjoon was his alpha, he reasoned. He didn’t need to be scared. For now, for two more weeks, Namjoon was his.

He could smell Namjoon’s surprise, could hear the hitch of his breath, but it didn’t stop him from finding Namjoon’s hand and bringing it to his face. He’d been craving his touch, this touch specifically—a reminder of the first kind touch that he’d received in so long. Namjoon had freed him of his chains, unlocked the muzzle, took out the gag, massaged his sore jaw like it was nothing when it was everything.

Namjoon cupped his cheek and pressed a light, timid kiss to his forehead.

Good, Hoseok thought. Alpha cares. He let out a stuttering purr as a reward and it grew louder when Namjoon squeezed him close. He would protect him, keep him safe, guard the door and the pack—the rest of the pack—while they slept.

He didn’t notice himself fall asleep, but when he awoke late the next morning, Namjoon was still wrapped around him, holding him close. Jungkook had latched onto him from the other side and was still asleep, snores muffled with his mouth pressed to Hoseok’s nape. Namjoon was awake, though he stayed still, letting his omegas sleep comfortably.

Hoseok was in his own mind, there and awake and aware, but he didn’t force himself away. He was theirs until he wasn’t. He had a place at his alpha’s side.

“Alpha?” he mumbled.

“Morning, omega,” Namjoon said quietly, petting his hair. “Did you sleep well?”

Hoseok nodded, rubbing his cheek on his chest.

“Good, I’m glad.” He kissed his hair when Hoseok hummed, rubbing his side. “Will you sleep with us tonight?”

Hoseok nodded without thought. He wanted to. He would.

Pleased surrounded him in gentle wafts. “Good omega.”

“Yours?” Hoseok mumbled. He felt bold for it, nervous, but he didn’t hold it back like he always did around Namjoon.

“Mine,” Namjoon affirmed, his pleasure and pride much, much more evident all at once. “My omega, Hoseokie. Your alpha wants to make you breakfast. Would you stay here with Jungkook, baby? Rest a while longer?”

Hoseok nodded, eyes already growing heavy once again. He let Namjoon go without argument, turning to wrap himself around Jungkook. 

“My omega,” he mumbled, sleep coming easier than it ever had.

-

The rest of the pack took Hoseok’s sudden attachment in stride, though their surprise and pleasure and happiness was clear whenever they caught him staring at them with attentive eyes, whenever he cuddled up to their sides, whenever he kissed Jin in front of them, whenever he let them scent him—not just the omegas now, not even just the betas, but Yoongi and Namjoon, too.

He was soaked in wisteria now, so much so that he had to check to see if he was leaving a trail of hanging vines as he walked through the house.

He was surprised at how easy it was to let their affection happen; he’d expected it to be much harder to let go of his nervousness and self-preservative resistance. But whenever anyone passed and touched his back, he didn’t flinch, only leaned into the touch with a cat-like arch. He smiled when they squeezed his nape, going pleasantly lax at the rush of endorphins. He held Jimin’s hand as they took daily walks around the lake, always stopping at the koi pond. 

When Taehyung joined them, Hoseok pointed at one of the calico fish and asked if they could name it Jimin.

His only hesitance came when Yoongi suggested a day out.

“The beach?” Taehyung said with delight. “Hyung, you never want to go to the beach!”

“Yeah, well,” Yoongi said, a blush dusting his cheeks as he glanced at Hoseok. “We haven’t been in a while. And Hoseok-ah said he hadn’t been before.”

Taehyung turned his astonished attention to Hoseok. “You haven’t?”

“We have to go,” Jungkook said with finality. “I grew up by the sea, Hobi-hyung, me and Jimin both—we have to go.”

“We couldn’t go to Busan, obviously,” Namjoon weighed in. “But if we left early tomorrow we could spend the day on Hanagae. It might be too cold to swim, though.”

“I don’t know how to swim,” Hoseok said. He licked his lips, before taking a shaky breath. “B-but I—I want to see. Please.”

“Ah, my good boy—” Jin said, hurrying to tuck him close. “My baby, absolutely, you’ll see it.”

Namjoon nodded once, a pack alpha’s final say. With a whoop, Taehyung scrambled away, tugging Jimin and Jungkook behind him to pack the car. 

Hoseok watched them go for a moment before stepping close to Namjoon, bowing his head deferentially. “Thank you.”

Namjoon tilted his chin up with a finger, smiling at him with warmth that Hoseok could feel in his bones. “Anything for you, Hoseok-ah. Okay?”

Hoseok nodded. “Okay.”

-

Hoseok stared at the horizon as Jin and Taehyung buried his legs in the sand, lost in his own mind but without the madness that usually accompanied the feeling. It was beautiful, he thought. The sunset, with its oranges and pinks and purples reflecting off the glittering sea, was something he’d never seen before. Maybe he had seen the sky like that, it was not really a rare sight, but—his life had grayed it out, made it dull, colorless, not something that could add joy to his joyless life.

He could look at it forever, he thought. But he knew this was the last time.

The thought brought tears to his eyes but he closed them, not wanting to concern anyone—it was a great day, a fun day, beautiful and bright, and he’d do anything to keep from putting a damper on it. He didn’t want to talk about his dark future on a bad day, he certainly didn’t want to talk about it on this perfect one.

He opened his eyes when Taehyung giggled. “Hyung, look—”

Hoseok surprised himself by letting out a laugh. “Oh.”

Jin grinned as he traced out scales on the mermaid tail they’d sculpted around him. “What color would your tail be, you think? Mine would be pink."

“Mine’s green for sure—” Taehyung said.

Grey, Hoseok almost said. But that wasn’t right. If he could give himself a color, mold himself into something, someone, that could embody it— “Yellow.”

Taehyung beamed. “Sunny hyung.”

Jin glanced up at Hoseok fondly, drawing a heart in one of the scales on his thigh. “Suits you.”

When his legs had been freed and rubbed free of sand, he found himself falling into an episode, exactly as he’d worried. There were just—people there, so many people, who kept passing by his pack and making him shake and crowd against whoever was nearest because they might take him away. But thinking about those strangers seeing that there was a reason to get rid of him made him even more nervous, even more feral.

But Yoongi wordlessly guided him onto his lap, gently maneuvering Hoseok until he was straddling him, face hidden in the crook of Yoongi’s shoulder. He rubbed under his shirt with the hands Hoseok loved, keeping him safe and protected and hidden from anyone who could hurt.

They acted like it was easy, navigating his stupid mind. It couldn’t be—it wasn’t for him, and he knew himself better than anyone ever could. But they took care of him.

He leaned into the feeling, breathing Yoongi in. He’d go mad quickly, he was sure of it. Maybe he’d forget how nice it was to be held.

He took a deep breath a while later, when he heard the others start to pack up. Yoongi smiled at him when he pulled away from his hiding spot.

Hoseok looked back at the sea, at the stars twinkling now that the sun had set. “Thank you,” he mumbled. He wasn’t sure what he was thanking him for—the trip, the comfort, the sea, the care.

Yoongi just squeezed him and nosed his shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

-

Hoseok found himself tucked under Namjoon’s arm the next morning, all of them quietly enjoying each others’ company and the cups of coffee and tea that never seemed to empty. They were still relaxed from the beach trip and sleepy from the late drive home, wordlessly and unanimously deciding it would be a lazy day. 

Hoseok was glad. Everyone was off work and home and he could glance around and see that his pack was there. Namjoon sipped his coffee and leaned on Hoseok as he scrolled through his phone, not minding that Hoseok was watching his screen, looking curiously at the pictures and skipping over headlines.

He didn’t even startle when it buzzed with a call, but the ID made him freeze.

Namjoon stared at it for a long moment, Hoseok grew dizzier with each ring.

“Omega services,” Namjoon read, and Hoseok knew that it was all over.

Chapter Text

“I see,” Namjoon’s voice was tight, his knuckles white where they gripped the phone. The room had fallen silent as soon as he got the call and said “omega services.”

Hoseok felt nauseous as he stared at him. It had been two months. He’d been with them for two months. His last two months. Except—except he hadn’t. He’d been there one month and three weeks and they were coming early.

They sounded so happy to tell Namjoon, Hoseok had heard them. He has to have a medical exam and quarantine period before admittance to the center, won’t it be nice to have your den back to yourself? Namjoon hadn’t answered them. Hoseok almost wished he would have, no matter what the answer would be.

“We’ll see you then,” Namjoon said, hanging up. He had an alpha set to his jaw when he met Hoseok’s eyes. “Omega services are coming.”

It had never happened so quickly before.

Hoseok spiraled, anxiety-terror-misery sweeping over him in an overwhelming wave, feral teeth growing forcefully in his mouth and claws digging their way all over his body, making sure he couldn’t escape. He scrambled back as someone came closer and quickly redirected when he got a little too close to someone else. They tried to soothe him or subdue him or catch him or something, but the threat of everything ending all at once was enough for Hoseok to snap his teeth at everyone who came near.

Not everyone was trying to get to him; Yoongi sat on the sofa with his head in his hands, Jimin knelt on the floor with tears in his eyes, Taehyung hugged his chest as he watched them fretfully off to the side. But Jungkook and Seokjin were doing their best to touch him even as Hoseok growled and snarled and scratched at their hands. Their pleas were useless; Hoseok could barely comprehend a word they were saying. He could smell the fear and sorrow pouring off them, though—for what, he wasn’t sure, but the feral omega that he was agreed wholeheartedly, their emotions spurring on his own with a vengeance.

He barely registered the bleeding lines on Jin’s arms where his nails had cut into him; he snapped his teeth as he reached for him again, limbs quaking with adrenaline. He’d backed himself into a corner, he realized belatedly, his back pressing into the wall behind him. The door to the back yard was so close and he glanced at it frantically—he could make a break for it, he knew what their property looked like, he knew a few places to hide til he could escape, he could—he could—

He didn’t want to leave. He looked between them, the omegas, the pack alpha, and he didn’t want to leave.

He let out a wretched sob, his chest aching so terribly he worried his heart was ripping itself from his chest, trying to get away from the half-life that would not be worth living. 

When Namjoon caught him in the hall, Hoseok was sobbing, staring at him with desperate eyes that flicked over his face and the omegas hovering to the side, and at the nonexistent exits he wouldn’t even have taken.

“Hoseok-ah—” Namjoon said, gripping his arms. “Hobah. Please forgive me. Please accept me.”

Namjoon sank his teeth into Hoseok’s neck, right over his faded, gnarly mating bite. Hoseok thrashed at first for an almost-performative moment before going almost lax, letting out a keening whine. Namjoon wrapped his arms around him as he released his bite, lapping at the blood and trying his best to exude calm and comfort, even as Namjoon himself reeked of worry.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, rocking Hoseok side to side. “It’s okay. I have you. I won’t let you go, my omega, our omega. I’ll never let them take you.”

Namjoon had just managed to get Hoseok’s breathing to match his own when the service workers arrived, and the sight of them made him spiral all over again. He scrambled away again, but now, instead of trying to hide from them, he tried to hide behind them, putting protection—putting his pack—between him and the threat.

The workers seemed to be immediately put off. “Omega, come now. Stop this or we’ll have to sedate you. Namjoon-ssi, could you—”

“He won’t be going with you,” Namjoon snapped, a growl in his voice.

The workers glanced at each other. “He’s a feral, Namjoon-ssi,” one tried to explain. “He hasn’t recovered and by law—”

“The law states feral omegas must be willingly surrendered with the exception of abuse and extenuating circumstances, and we are not willing.”

“Namjoon-ssi—”

“Of course Hoseok is upset, you’re trying to separate a newly-bonded omega from his pack.”

The workers shared another incredulous glance, going almost flabbergasted when Namjoon stepped aside just enough for them to see Hoseok’s bite. Hoseok scrambled to hide behind him again, clinging to his shirt. 

Namjoon reached behind to hold his hand, rubbing his wrist soothingly. “You will not take my mate from me.”

They were silent for a long beat before one of the workers cleared their throat. “You have ten days to file the integration paperwork. If not—”

“I’ll file tonight,” Namjoon interrupted. “Please leave. I may be a patient alpha but my omega is distressed. I cannot and will not tolerate it.”

Namjoon didn’t wait for them to drive off before slamming the door, holding Hoseok to his chest in a crushing grip. Hoseok let out a watery sob and bit at Namjoon’s chest, an almost-soothing sort of gnaw that no one made any effort to stop. Jungkook hugged him from behind, burying his face in the crook of Hoseok’s shoulder, nosing at the still-bleeding mark. He could feel Jin grip his arm and Jimin clutch his shirt, could feel matching relief pouring off Yoongi and Taehyung nearby.

It was all claustrophobic and overwhelming and would be too much on an average day, much less during a feral episode—but the hold didn’t make him feel trapped. It made his shakes lessen and his mind slow enough that panic quickly morphed into exhaustion.

“Bite?” he whispered, so muffled against Namjoon’s chest he wasn’t sure anyone would hear.

But Namjoon nodded, pressing a kiss to his hair. “I claimed you, Hoseok-ah. You’re ours.”

Hoseok was quiet for a moment, focusing on the sting of the mark as Jungkook’s nose passed over it, trying to convince himself it was really there. “Mate?”

He was almost scared to hear the answer, but Namjoon nodded again, making Hoseok go lax. “Mate. Pack.”

-

“Tomorrow,” Namjoon muttered that night, Hoseok held protectively on his lap. 

He hadn’t stopped touching Hoseok since the bite, keeping him close and safe and soothed. The rest of the pack was never far, either, all of them migrating through the house as a cohesive unit. Hoseok was still feral, still lost in himself—but instead of being frightened, fearful, survival instincts coursing through him, he just felt—calm. 

His heart had settled into a steady beat, none of the hummingbird fluttering that had lasted until Namjoon’s bite. His vision felt blurry, everything that wasn’t his packmates foggy and unimportant. Time felt so syrupy slow to the point that it was nonexistent; each touch he was given lingering on his skin so long that it felt painted on.

Tomorrow was the first word he had truly registered in hours.

“Mm?” he hummed, cheek pressed to Namjoon’s shoulder, one hand held to Jin’s neck, the other laced with Yoongi’s.

“We were going to ask you tomorrow,” he said. 

Hoseok furrowed his brow at the tinge of sorrow he heard in Namjoon’s voice. “Ask?”

“For you to join our pack. To—to be with us.” Namjoon swallowed thickly; Hoseok saw tears in his eyes when he straightened up, pulling away from his cozy spot to try to fix whatever sadness had struck his alpha. “Hoseok-ah—”

Hoseok furrowed his brows, taking his hands away from Jin and Yoongi to cup Namjoon’s face. “Alpha?”

Namjoon licked his lips before meeting Hoseok’s eyes, putting his hands over Hoseok’s own. “I am—so sorry that the choice was taken away from you. That I-I had to decide for you, when you weren’t able—ah, baby, omega, I am so sorry.”

Hoseok felt tears sting his own eyes, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. “Bite?”

Namjoon nodded, turning his head to kiss one of Hoseok’s palms. “I should have gotten your permission before—before.”

He cocked his head. “Alpha—my alpha.”

“I am,” Namjoon reassured quickly. “I’m your alpha, we’re your pack. And—and I, we, hoped you would accept us, but—but I had to take that for granted. I don’t—regret it, Hoseokie, omega, please understand. I could never regret you. I just—hope you don’t regret me.”

Hoseok frowned, feeling oddly put out. “My alpha,” he asserted. “My pack. Mine.”

“He would have said yes,” Jungkook said softly. He climbed onto Yoongi’s lap to get closer to them, hand on Hoseok’s thigh.

Hoseok nodded once. “Mine.”

“Still,” Namjoon sighed, kissing Hoseok’s palm again. “I hope you feel the same tomorrow.”

“We can still ask,” Jungkook offered, “and you don’t have to say yes, hyung—”

“Mine,” Hoseok pouted at him, giving him a glare that was negated by the way he reached for him, possessively pulling Jungkook close to his chest.

Jungkook giggled quietly, nodding. “Yours. I wanna ask to be yours, though, kay?”

Hoseok thought about it, pursing his lips. He didn’t fully understand the question, even as his mind had started to clear, fog rising enough to let whispers of non-feral thoughts be heard. Still, he nodded. “Kay.”

Wisteria bloomed around him and he purred, still rumbly and unpracticed, but it did it’s job. Jungkook answered with a purr of his own; a grumble came from Namjoon’s chest, as well, his sadness abated enough to satisfy Hoseok. His purr grew louder as the pack seemed to close in on him, every one of them joining the warm, loving pile, a nest without a nest. 

“Pack,” Hoseok mumbled, before sinking into a peaceful sleep.

Chapter Text

As the bite on his neck was healing, Hoseok couldn’t stay away from Namjoon. He found himself constantly plastered to his side, either within arm’s reach or holding onto him with a vice grip. He was still nervous, undeniably so. Though he was now Namjoon’s—really, truly, officially—Namjoon was still an alpha, still the pack alpha, still someone who held Hoseok’s life in his hands.

Namjoon treated him so gently, though, unlike any pack alpha ever had. Not his sire, not his familial pack’s alpha, not the mate he was forced to have, not even the foster pack alphas who had tried to ‘save’ him.

Namjoon was patient, though Hoseok could practically feel him buzz with excitement as he inched closer. He still couldn’t quite believe that excitement was about him; he hardly felt worthy of it, of being wanted, even with the claim he now bore. Namjoon’s hand twitched at his side as Hoseok got closer and closer, trying to reel himself in, but he was beaming by the time Hoseok climbed into his lap, straddling him and burying his nose in his neck before he couldn't convince himself otherwise.

“Perfect omega,” he said, letting out a pleased alpha grumble. He reached under Hoseok’s shirt to rub his back, his rough palm soothing and soft on his skin. “Perfect Hoseokie.”

Hoseok sighed quietly when Namjoon tilted his neck obligingly, welcoming Hoseok’s soft nips.

He drifted as he made tiny red spots on his skin, pleasantly floaty even as Namjoon’s touch made him feel rooted to the ground. “You can mark me, you know?”

Hoseok froze as he processed the words, shaking his head after a moment. Namjoon’s pang of hurt was more than clear with Hoseok’s nose so close to his scent gland and he whined, wriggling in his lap. He shifted to hide his face on the other side of Namjoon’s neck, feeling guilty about the shallow teeth marks.

“I’d be bad,” he mumbled, gripping the front of Namjoon’s shirt.

“Bad?”

Hoseok whined and drew in on himself, so small on Namjoon’s lap. “Episode,” he said, lips against Namjoon’s skin.

Namjoon’s arms tightened around him for a moment before he gripped Hoseok’s waist—till too-thin, but so much better than it had been two months ago. “Why?”

Hoseok whined again, forcing the words out. “Cause it would feel too good!”

Namjoon laughed and nuzzled his hair. “Baby. That hardly makes you bad. You’re the best boy.”

Hoseok frowned. “I’m not a dog.”

Namjoon clicked his tongue. “I know. You’re my best Hoseokie. Best omega. Even better person.”

Hoseok’s frown stayed on his lips but he shifted, allowing himself to nose his neck a little. “Alpha? Do you really think I’m a person?”

“Yes, sweetheart,” he answered immediately, voice so even-keeled that Hoseok knew he was trying to stop himself from squeezing Hoseok so tightly that they would meld together.

Hoseok nodded after a moment, snuggling into him.

“Hoseok-ah—” Namjoon started after a moment, pausing to press a lingering kiss to Hoseok’s hair. “I don’t want you to not do things that would make you happy for fear of an episode. We can take care of you. And honestly—lately you’ve just wanted to be close to us,” Hoseok could feel Namjoon’s smile, “don’t want to let us go. And we don’t want you to let go, we don’t want to let go of you either. We can handle it. And even if it’s not like that, even if it’s more typical—I just want you to be happy, Hoseok-ah. And I mean, it’s half selfish, I have to admit, I desperately want my omega to mark me—”

Hoseok giggled, pressing a shy kiss to his jaw. “Maybe—maybe if omegas are there.”

“Of course,” he agreed. “Being a pack is part of mating. Anyone you want there will be there.”

Hoseok hesitated, breathing in Namjoon’s wisteria for a moment. “Can I ask—ah, it’s not my place.”

“Your place is here,” Namjoon said. “You can ask anything.”

Hoseok still hesitated. “Please be gentle? I don’t—I don’t like when it hurts.”

Namjoon froze before pulling him out of hiding, cupping his face so he had to look at him. “I will never hurt you,” he said, so sternly that Hoseok felt he had to believe him. “I will never mate you when you don’t want me to. I will never intentionally do anything that you don’t like, and if I do, I’ll stop immediately and do anything in the world to be better and to make it up to you. And if you don’t want to mate when you give me your bite—”

Hoseok frowned, brows furrowing. “It won’t take.”

“I assure you it does.” 

Hoseok must have shown enough wary skepticism for Namjoon to soften, rubbing his back the way he liked with his big, soothing hands. (Nevermind that just a week ago, those hands had been terrifying half the time, expecting harsh, unwanted scruffs and sharp, expected-unexpected slaps. Now, after the bite, with Namjoon’s claim surging through him with every touch, he felt nothing but assurance.)

“Jimin and Taehyung and I didn’t mate when they bit me, and they’re here, clear as day,” Namjoon continued, pulling the collar of his shirt aside to give him a better look. “And we weren’t mating when I marked you, were we?”

Hoseok swallowed thickly as he looked at the betas’ claims—just as Namjoon had said, they were there, just as bright and vivid as the others. He couldn’t help but take a shaky breath as he felt a familiar pang of mourning; he’d been told by his familial pack, by his first alpha, by the alphas of the foster packs who had tried to take him and were given the worst of Hoseok’s feral teeth and claws. He’d fought them off enough that he hadn’t been fucked by anyone for all those years in the omega services system, even when he couldn’t get away from forced scening and harsh holds.

His alpha’s knot didn’t need to have been tearing him apart for the bite to take. He hadn’t needed his foster alpha’s knots to keep him calm and sated, no matter what they said. It was yet another thing that they had tried to take from him against his will, and it stung deep in his gut. He didn’t realize tears were stinging his eyes until Namjoon cupped his cheek, brushing his thumb under his eye where they hadn’t yet fallen.

“I-I do want you to mate me,” he muttered quietly, closing his eyes and leaning into Namjoon’s touch. “I do.”

Namjoon’s scent turned so pleased immediately and Hoseok’s lips quirked into a tiny smile. He could tell now, familiar enough with his scent, that he wasn’t pleased that Hoseok would let him fuck him, or that Hoseok was offering himself up freely—he was just pleased with Hoseok’s trust, with his love, with his belief that Namjoon, that his pack alpha, wouldn’t hurt him.

Hoseok smiled more against Namjoon’s lips when he gave him a gentle kiss. “Then we will. In your own time.”

Hoseok nodded once more before being overcome by shyness, abruptly hiding in Namjoon’s neck. Namjoon chuckled quietly and let him be, holding him close. He had just began to think Hoseok was asleep when he felt a gentle bite on his neck, not enough to break skin but a comforting hold, both for Namjoon and for Hoseok himself.

Namjoon let out a grumble spurred on by trust and delight and love. Hoseok, without hesitation, responded with a purr.

-

Hoseok was surprised how unsurprised he was when Namjoon mated him—he hadn’t wanted just his omegas like he thought he would, instead requesting (pouting, demanding) that the entire pack be there with them. Having Yoongi near him, with his heavy alpha aura, was comforting, not oppressive. Taehyung and Jimin exuded excitement and calm at once; Jimin’s silly peppered kisses over Hoseok’s face and hands making him giggle, cheeks flushed from chaste pleasure and pleasure that was very much not chaste.

Jin and Jungkook were the most comforting, though, just as he expected. He sought out their eyes, their touch, their scents, moving between their necks and Namjoon’s with near-desperation.

Eventually, though—there was nothing he wanted more than to be surrounded by Namjoon, to feel his cock filling him up, his knot growing against his rim with a burn that Hoseok found himself wanting more of, to roll against him like he wanted to become part of him. He’d never, never, felt so good being mated; he didn’t have a proper comparison, not really. He wanted Namjoon, wanted his cock, his knot, his scent, his kisses, his bite that was still-healing on his neck - and he wanted, just as much, to mark Namjoon as his own. So he did.

Namjoon’s scent spiked with surprise before it flooded the room with pleasure. The guttural growl that broke from his chest seemingly without permission was primal and echoed in Hoseok’s mind, vibrating between his teeth as they sank into the crook of his shoulder, overlapping the edges of some of the others.

There was no bitter taste left in Hoseok’s mouth when he swallowed the blood, no feeling of imprisonment or hopelessness burning him from the inside out. He just felt good. He didn’t even feel like it had all been leading up to this, the pack’s kindness and acceptance and love given with the expectation of this—he was sure that he could have gone without their claim forever and they wouldn’t care for him any less. But he didn’t want to go without that claim any longer, needing his own in addition to theirs.

And being mated by Namjoon didn’t hurt either. He had been so tense and tight and Namjoon worked him open so kindly, so thoroughly, so gently, that even his sizable knot didn’t stretch him beyond pleasure when it locked them together. Hoseok found himself squirming when he felt it going down, determined to be one for as long as he could. He was only assuaged when a grinning Jungkook worked a finger in beside the knot to keep him nice and full.

He did go feral as he feared he would, but just as Namjoon had said, they took care of him with absolute expertise. Jin returned his biting kisses with loving lips, muttering praises; Yoongi held him with strong arms, not keeping him still, just making him feel weighted and safe.

It was good. Every single part of it was good.

-

The others had to almost constantly chide Hoseok and Namjoon both for messing with their bites as they healed, particularly Namjoon—he tended to fiddle with the edges of the bandage when the bite was covered and traced the indents of Hoseok’s teeth when it wasn’t. Hoseok did the same, nearly, nearly, sinking his teeth into him once more just to make it deeper before he was caught and teasingly wrestled away.

But there was no punishment, and he knew there wouldn’t be.

Namjoon—Namjoon the pack did scold, smacking his hands away when he started messing with Hoseok’s nearly-healed bite as well as his own, giving his hair a sharp tug when he decided press kisses against the mark or easily persuade Hoseok to lap at his neck.

(“It heals!” he insisted, holding Hoseok closer, both of them giving their pseudo-chaperone a pouty, pleading look that went unheaded.

“Maybe five hundred years ago, it did,” was the usual retort that came as they pushed themself between them, forcing them apart and into a still-pleasant if coerced no-bite-touching cuddle.)

-

When the bite on Hoseok’s neck healed (and only when it healed thanks to Jin—Hoseok had very nearly tempted all the others into giving him their bites before his mark had even fully settled), he was given the rest, one by one.

Just as Namjoon had said, the bites took even without mating, Taehyung and Jimin leaving their claim on him just like everyone else, without even being in the nest. And, Hoseok noted with pleasure, their bites overlapped as they were on all of their other mates. Yoongi and Jungkook’s were given to him with unrushed pleasure, calm kisses and laps that led to an almost-painless sinking of teeth.

He was surprised when Jin’s was messy, at a tilted angle and initially unevenly deep and shallow until he bit into him once more, ensuring that his mark would remain on Hoseok just as thoroughly as the others. It was enthusiasm that made him frantic, a deep need to make his omega really and truly his. He hadn’t been like that with any of the others, he’d blushingly revealed. But Hoseok—he needed him to know that he was permanent, that he was pack, that Jin would only ever let him go if he was dead in the ground, and even then his spirit would haunt whoever dared touch his Hoseokie til their own end was met.

And he gave his own to each of them, claimed each pack member as his very own, as his soul and blood, as his, in a way no one, nothing, had ever been. In a way he never in his life expected to do.

-

It didn’t just stop, not all at once. There were times that Hoseok came to without realizing he’d been lost to his own mind. Sometimes he fuzzily became himself again while tucked safely into a closet with one of his pack members waiting patiently for him outside, the door cracked so he could see them, smell them, touch them if he just reached out; other times he was cradled in their arms, hair being nuzzled or bite being kissed, sometimes nothing but fingerprints on their arms from Hoseok gripping them desperately, sometimes shallow scratches where he tried to get away, only to crawl back to them in his own time.

But his episodes were farther and farther between, and without his notice, they became faded memories. He realized during a lazy breakfast that it had been months since his last. Without truly meaning to, he tried to push himself into one, forcefully thinking all the thoughts that tended to trigger one, remembering pain and sorrow and loneliness and all things that had consumed his life until so, so recently.

It hadn’t even been a year of experiencing his pack’s pure goodness, but it was worth so much, outweighing the bad. Not erasing it, nothing could ever erase it, but making it easier to tuck away into a corner of his mind, not locking it in or forcing it down, but soothing it with soft whispers and gentle hands when it came forward.

He tried to force an episode, staring blankly at his half-full plate, the tea in his favorite mug, the movements of his pack in the blurry edges of his vision. None came.

He lifted his head and watched Jungkook drift in and out of sleep on Namjoon’s shoulder, the pack alpha holding him close, feeding him bites whenever his eyes opened. Taehyung was saying something to Yoongi, Yoongi was saying something back, Jimin was giggling, Jin was reading, it was all perfect and good and Hoseok’s every single day.

“Love you,” he said abruptly, to no one and everyone.

Namjoon wrapped the arm not around Jungkook around Hoseok's shoulder, pulling him close and nearly out of his chair. He wasn’t worried, though; if he fell, Namjoon would apologetically pull him into his lap and not let him go for the rest of breakfast. “Ah, Hoseokie, I love you—”

“Omega-hyung,” Jungkook mumbled, reaching to hold onto Hoseok’s sleeve.

Jin came over, urging Hoseok up, sitting in his chair and pulling him onto his lap before Namjoon could take advantage and do the same, kissing over his bite on Hoseok’s shoulder, sweet and possessive.

The others said their own I love yous as Hoseok tried once again to let his hindbrain take over, even if the trigger was their easy love. It didn’t come. All that came was the feeling of fuzzy contentedness and solid belonging, the undeniable love surging around him, the waves of wisteria in the air.

“Love you,” he mumbled again, leaning into Namjoon’s side and lacing his fingers with Jin’s. No episode came, only a gentle, restful space that had become a familiar friend. “Love you.”