the way it's always been

by blueberrybeomgyu

Summary:

Euijoo smiled through every affectionate, and equally gut-wrenching encounter between the two, because they were happy. He’d helped make the two people he loved happy, and what was more important than that?

Notes:

the haters said i couldn't do it...the voices said otherwise... this is part two of If It’s Not Too Much to Ask. a lot of this won’t make sense unless u read the first part but feel free to proceed if ure brave !! this took me weeks to write and is loaded with errors but i had fun writing it, and i hope you have fun reading it :>

Euijoo met Fuma during his attempt to get over Nicholas. It had been two weeks since they’d spent the omega’s heat together, and it was difficult for Euijoo to deal with the reality that the cycle hadn’t deepened their relationship.

He’d hoped that maybe the intimate moments they shared would lead Nicholas to seeing him as more than a friend. But a few days after, Nicholas had said, it doesn’t have to change anything. We’re still friends, right?

Euijoo wasn’t really sure why Nicholas had said that. Maybe it was the slightly tense change in their typically lighthearted dynamic. It wasn’t awkward, not for Euijoo. He’d just been waiting for the right time to bring it up, to say something like does this make us more? Do you want us to be more? He’d hesitated, missed the mark, and maybe that was for the best, because evidently, Nicholas didn’t want them to be more.

Just friends.

And Euijoo had nodded, because even if Nicholas’ words cut him to pieces, he wouldn’t risk losing his best friend completely by doing something stupid like confessing, pushing, being greedy. He had to move on.

It wasn’t like Nicholas was his only friend. It was just that most of Euijoo’s friends were also Nicholas’, an intertwined group of variously beautiful people with a bond so strong that every member was at every event, usually. If he wanted to hang out with one, he wanted to hang out with all of them, Nicholas included.

But he didn’t really want to hang out with Nicholas, not as often. He hated to admit it, but it quickly proved mentally taxing to spend most of his free time with someone he was painfully in love with, who obviously didn’t feel the same.

So, new friendships. Hopefully, a fresh area of his life that didn’t center his sweet, loving, beautiful best friend. He wanted to step out of his comfort zone and go to new places. By another friend’s helpful suggestion, he tried the video game cafe instead of isolating for hours in front of his computer. 

There, he’d met Fuma.

Fuma was effortlessly sweet. He looked after Euijoo in quiet ways: placing the beta’s order ahead of time so it’d be ready when he showed up, offering him rides because driving spiked his anxiety, laughing at even his lamest jokes. Fuma even made his own dorky jokes in return, and despite how ridiculous and far-fetched they could be, Euijoo found himself laughing anyway, because it was easy.

Everything was easy with Fuma, in a way they hadn’t been in a long time. His kind nature seemed to come naturally to him, caring for Euijoo without a second thought. It made Euijoo feel special and worthy of the attention. 

But, it had only been a few months into the new friendship when Euijoo noticed the familiar signs of impending doom. 

Accelerated heartbeat if Fuma looked at him for a second too long, like he was really seeing him, not just glazing over him like so many people did. The rapid pace at which he was growing attached to the alpha’s scent, finding himself picking the notes apart absentmindedly (plum, the strongest, and something earthy, like dark oak, on top of subtle hints of cinnamon, and when summer had been particularly warm, and Fuma’s scent had been the strongest: the shyest note of cocoa). The heat under his skin when Fuma touched him, even the lightest grazes making him shiver, and sticking to his mind at night, when he’d stare at his bedroom ceiling and will his hands not to wander. 

They were similar to the way Nicholas made him feel, especially when he’d first realized his feelings for the omega. That was years ago, and by now, the infatuated unease he felt around his best friend had become natural, like another layer of skin.

But with Fuma, the feelings were fresh, abrupt, demanding attention.

Euijoo thought maybe he was overthinking it. Surely, he didn’t love Fuma. Not like that. He never thought he’d love someone other than Nicholas, and what confused him most was the persistent feelings he still harbored for the omega, nestled deep in his heart. But now, scooting over, of their own accord, making space for someone new, disregarding Euijoo’s lack of permission.

It wasn’t unusual – polyamory, especially in a pack, but the three of them were definitely not in a pack, and Euijoo had never loved two people at once before. It was unfamiliar, scary. Everything about it, he wanted to run away from, deny, ignore.

So he said nothing, again. And his plan to not spend all of his time with people he was in love with, well.

For a while, Euijoo was able to keep Fuma to himself. But of course, Nicholas would pick up on the beta getting texts more frequently, and when Euijoo’s schedule, once consistently free aside from work, had gotten tighter. Nicholas always asked (demanded, really) to meet the new people in Euijoo’s life, declaring that it was his duty and right as Euijoo’s Number One Best Friend (his words, of course). 

I just wanna make sure you’re befriending good people, he’d say, but it was always with a subtle hint of something else, something Euijoo wanted to label jealously or possession, but maybe that was too self-indulgent. In any case scenario, he caved fairly quickly, too excited to talk about Fuma to keep it hidden any longer.

The initial introduction went great. Immediately, they seemed to balance each other well. Fuma’s easy-going nature broke down Nicholas’ protective, bratty facade without much effort. The signs were everclear, the way he warmed up to the alpha in just weeks. 

Fuma always gave equal attention to them both, taking interest in what they both had to say. But Nicholas blossomed under attention, knew just how to charm, how to keep another person interested. Euijoo, in stark contrast, burned under it, like an ant to a magnifying glass under late July sun. He got awkward, shriveled, waved it off, encouraged them to take the spotlight back for themselves.

Which meant he got a front row seat to their getting closer, the budding friendship that quickly bloomed into some suggestion of more through lingering touches and prolonged eye contact.

Then, Nicholas’ heat was coming up, about six months after the previous. It was Euijoo who he consulted about asking for Fuma’s help, hands wringing nervously as the omega worried it might’ve been too soon. 

It did sting like a bitch, that he didn’t consider asking Euijoo for help again. It was a rough week, but it was also beautiful, being close to Nicholas like that, being trusted so greatly.

But Euijoo had promised himself – Nicholas’ needs first, always. It was this promise, a blaring red sign at the forefront of his mind, that pushed him to encourage the omega to just ask, and see what Fuma says. They were friends, and he was a nice guy, and Nicholas didn’t deserve to spend his heat alone. 

It stung, still, knowing Fuma had said yes. Nicholas’ blatant relief was only somewhat soothing to what felt like, in Euijoo’s mind, betrayal. It was stupid. Fuma didn’t belong to him, didn’t owe him loyalty, and neither did Nicholas. 

But Euijoo belonged to them both, and they were building foundation, growing closer, without him.

Euijoo’s second experience with utter heartbreak, and just like the first, he suffered through it alone, feigning enthusiasm to hide selfish envy.

They’d only become more attached after that, and the heat following. An entire year of watching them flirt, banter, but never make it official. Euijoo didn’t know why they hadn’t started dated then. Dragging it out only left him room to hope, that maybe they’d break it off, or, in some miraculous, unlikely incident, fall in love with him as well.

It was hope. And irritation, or relief. Maybe dread. A guilty mix of all that eventually gave way to queasiness. 

Euijoo didn’t always understand his emotions. And that was okay. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter. Euijoo swallowed the threat of puke in his throat. He smiled through every affectionate, and equally gut-wrenching encounter between the two, because they were happy.

He’d helped make the two people he loved happy, and what was more important than that?

*

He woke up to the sound of knocking at the door. The sun was higher, but it couldn’t have been more than a few hours since he’d gone to sleep. Euijoo felt no parts well-rested or cognizant, pulling his hoodie and sweats on, and he must’ve taken too long, because the person knocked again, louder.

He grumbled, irritated, completely forgetting that the reason someone was at the door at all was his doing. His asking, specifically, and it only clicked when he pulled the door open, too drowsy still to even check the peephole first.

Fuma was here. It felt like it’d been forever since Euijoo last saw him outside of the shameful hours of stalking him on Instagram. In reality, it hadn’t been longer than a week, maybe. Euijoo still stood shocked seeing him real, physical, touchable, after hours of yearning for his presence.

A hug from Fuma might’ve done wonders at pulling together all of Euijoo’s loose threads. He didn’t dare ask for it. Instead, he did the reasonable thing, which was stepping aside to let the alpha walk through the door.

He smiled, soft and beautiful, illuminated by the subtle blue of the morning glow. He was carrying grocery bags and dressed similarly to Euijoo – a cardigan and sweats – although much cleaner, his clothes likely unsoiled by sweat and slick. His nose twitched, picking up the suffocating presence of Nicholas’ scent in the air, the way it was practically radiating off of Euijoo.

Euijoo tugged the collar of his hoodie, trying to hide the arrangement of multicolored hickeys and bites Nicholas had left on his skin. They were flattering last night, when Euijoo stood flushed in front of the mirror, lightly running his fingers along them. The mark of claim made him feel wanted, like Nicholas owned some part of him.

But now, with Nicholas’ alpha – pretty much – standing in front of him, seeing the bruises in 4K, Euijoo worried for the bitter tinge of jealousy or anger that might taint Fuma’s scent. 

Yet, it didn’t. It remained the steady mixture of plum and cinnamon that broke up the stuffiness, that anchored Euijoo against the wave rocking him along.

For a moment, he entertained the thought of closing the distance and planting his face in the alpha’s neck, right against his scent gland, and just taking as much as Fuma allowed. He liked to think he wouldn’t be greedy about it, but he knew himself better at this point.

Nicholas had scooped out the rational, shameful parts of him and gave him a taste of his truest desires, leaving the bottomless pit of Euijoo’s greed. It’d be the same with Fuma. He’d beg and beg until Fuma had nothing left to give.

And maybe, even then, he’d thirst for more.

What remained unknown is whether or not Fuma would give, and Euijoo was betting on no. Fuma was basically spoken for, as was Nicholas, and now that Fuma was here, Euijoo was an intruder, shifting clumsily under the alpha’s gaze.

Fuma didn’t mention it, Euijoo’s presence despite no longer being needed. Instead, his eyes looked over Euijoo’s figure slowly, attentively, as he shut the door behind him. In the silence, the automatic air conditioner kicked on, and Euijoo was suddenly hyper aware of just how cold the apartment was. He attributed that, not Fuma’s eyes on him, to the shiver running through his body. Euijoo was frayed at the edges, fragile, like any harsh word from Fuma’s mouth could push him off his feet. He was grateful, in that case, for the alpha’s soft tone.

“Are you alright?”

Euijoo felt, possibly, the farthest from alright he’d ever felt. But under Fuma’s unwavering expectation, he only nodded, pulling his sleeves over his palms.

The alpha was visibly unconvinced, but he didn’t push it, which Euijoo appreciated. He walked past Euijoo and set his bags on the counter with an apology for waking him. He said something about it being a rough night, and Euijoo shook his head, stuck in place, awkwardly, watching the older man walk down Nicholas’ hallway, to the omega’s bedroom.

He was waiting. Maybe for Fuma to kick him out. He didn’t want to take a step and have it be wrong. Didn’t want to be asked why he was still here.

Fuma returned seconds later.

“He’s still out. Let’s let him rest,” he said, attention turned to the grocery bags. He unpacked them, putting items away in various places of Nicholas’ small kitchen. He moved like it came naturally to him, like he’d done this countless times.

Some nights, the two of them asked Euijoo over for dinner. He wondered, now, how many nights they’d had dinner together without inviting him. Every? None? Surely, he couldn’t expect an invitation every time the two got together.

But a part of him did. He wanted to be apart of it all, if only to spend more time with them, watching Fuma cook while Nicholas rambled next to him, lending a hand whenever Fuma asked. Fuma always had a way of making him feel useful. 

The alpha looked over his shoulder, at Euijoo’s awkward figure, with a kind smile. “Wanna help?”

Euijoo washed and chopped ingredients, dumping them in the pot Fuma had sitting on the stove. The actions were simple, rhythmic. Euijoo found himself breathing a little easier, grounded by the alpha’s scent. Even when he breathed in deeply – a shameful, greedy inhale whenever Fuma’s back was turned – the scent never overwhelmed.

It permeated the air, weaved through the persistent whisper of strawberry along the scent of miso coming from the steaming pot of soup, all to make Euijoo’s mouth water. It was a struggle to even remember the last time he’d eaten. Surely, before the bus ride. He’d intended to eat after Nicholas fell asleep last night, but, well. 

Fueled only by pure anxiety and the desperate need to be needed, the lack of substance was catching up to him, manifesting in the light sway of his body over the stove.

“He must’ve done a number on you,” Fuma said, smiling over his shoulder, voice light, so unlike the heaviness Euijoo felt. He was running on maybe four hours of sleep, body hyped up on hormones that weren’t even his. Whatever Fuma was trying to say jumbled before the beta could even comprehend it.

“What?” He said, to which Fuma laughed. A soft, genuine sound that made Euijoo’s beta bloom something pretty and stupid. A fresh, floral sense of pride from a simple laugh.

“You just look a bit worn,” the alpha continued.

Euijoo ran a hand through his hair, face heating. He tugged his shirt collar again, wiped imaginary dust off of his pants. There was a slightly darkened patch where Nicholas soaked through his pant leg, another source of evidence of the night before. He was covered in the manifestation of Nicholas’ omega, and Euijoo didn’t understand how Fuma wasn’t jealous. He basically had I fucked your love interest scribbled all over him.

Fuma called his name, interrupting the fidgeting. Euijoo turned to him – ready for the next task – to see him wearing an amused expression, like witnessing Euijoo’s inner turmoil was entertaining. 

Nicholas liked to purchase items with stories attached – clothing, accessories. Dining chairs, the set of them all different, picked over time from various second-hand stores to accompany his dining table. One was fixed with four different legs, only one matching the rest of the chair, with a pillow to make up for the stiff spine of it. Euijoo wouldn’t go as far as saying it was his chair, but it was the one he always gravitated to. It was the one Fuma pulled from the table with a gesture.

“Come sit,” he offered. Not a command. Euijoo listened.

Fuma sat across from, in a chair that rocked slightly with uneven legs.

During the food preparation, he’d shrugged off his cardigan, leaving only a tank top to display the lines of faint blue just under the skin, laced along muscled forearms. The veins pronounced differently with every movement, even as he slid a bowl in front of the beta. A subtle symbol of strength honed through his gym habit.

Euijoo could’ve counted on one hand the times he’d been to the gym. The difference in their muscle mass presented itself whenever he sat next to Fuma. When he sat next to Nicholas even. They were both bigger than him, stronger, but Euijoo noticed the presence of Fuma’s strength especially.

Thoughts of it drifted into his mind often, thoughts that Fuma could mold Euijoo into whatever he wanted. Not just emotionally, but physically. Euijoo would never fight back. But even if he did, even if he tried his hardest, used all of he strength, he wouldn’t stand a chance. He’d just have to take whatever Fuma gave.

It was a cruel image in his head, one that left him breathing a little harder, left his underwear a little damper. It snuck its way into Euijoo’s mind now, where Fuma was resting his arms on the table, muscles on full display for the beta to stare at.

“Euijoo,” Fuma called, dragging the name out in melody. Euijoo found his eyes, and the amused smile still sitting on his lips. A room that once made him shiver now felt too hot, the embarrassment of being caught reddening his ears.

Maybe this was his personal hell, a special torture created just for him. Instead of open fire and eternal pain, he’d been damned to drool over these two until his soul burned out. The former would’ve been less agonizing.

“Are you going to eat?”

Euijoo’s eyes fell to the bowl in front of him, at the haze steaming from the pretty arrangement of tofu and vegetables. Something akin to hunger rolled in his gut, but he knew it wasn’t in response to the food. 

Fuma didn’t have a bowl, the space where one might’ve gone occupied by embarrassingly distracting arms.

“Aren’t–” He cleared his throat, utensil slippery in his hold. When did he start sweating? “Aren’t you?”

“Later. I’ll wait for Nico.”

“Shouldn’t I, then?”

Fuma shook his head. “You can eat now.”

Euijoo’s stomach rumbled looking at the meal, but it didn’t feel right. He felt guilty, eating now when Nicholas probably needed the meal more than he did at the rate he was burning calories. A part of Euijoo wanted to insist that he could wait until they all ate together. Fuma wasn’t demanding. He wasn’t using his alpha tone, and even if he did, it wouldn’t work. He wasn’t Euijoo’s alpha. Euijoo could’ve pushed back.

But Fuma’s gaze was unwavering, unyielding. And there was something in his tone, in his gaze, edging on genuine concern, like he didn’t trust Euijoo wouldn’t fall apart the second he looked away.

He watched even as the beta lifted his utensils, seemingly intent on seeing Euijoo bring a spoonful of broth to his mouth. It went down warm, soothing, comforting. Euijoo couldn’t stop the noise that came from him as the taste settled on his tongue.

Fuma’s expression softened. “Good?”

Euijoo spoke around a mouthful of vegetables. “So good,” he said, and scooped more into his mouth, as much as it would hold. He must’ve looked ravenous. He felt ravenous. 

But judgement or disgust never passed over Fuma’s face. It was a bit unnerving, being watched so closely, but a shy part of Euijoo enjoyed it.

Moments passed with only the sound of Euijoo’s utensil against his bowl.

“You did a good job,” Fuma said, breaking the silence.

Euijoo found himself smiling at the ridiculousness of it. “It was mostly you,” he said, because Fuma had done most of the cooking. Euijoo only stood at attention and followed suit whenever the alpha asked him to wash something, or grab something, or stir. It was hardly anything to praise.

“Not just that. You’ve been doing a good job.” Euijoo’s face scrunched, confused. Fuma continued. “It must’ve been tough. I’m sorry I missed the first wave.”

They weren’t talking about food anymore. For a second, Euijoo wanted to ask how he knew about last night. Then, he thought back to himself in the mirror, the mauled body in his reflection, like Nicholas had tried to eat him. Anyone might’ve guessed.

His immediate reaction was to shake it off. To mumble something like it’s not a problem, as though it wasn’t the most pressing problem in his life at the moment. And ever before, actually.

But Fuma caught it, stopping him. “I mean it. Thank you for being here for him when I wasn’t,” he said, following when Euijoo tried to look away. His gaze felt too full for Euijoo to hold, to try to comprehend, but Fuma didn’t grant him escape. He made sure the two held contact until Euijoo wholly accepted the gratitude.

“I don’t mind,” he said, a quiet echo of the words he’d said on the phone yesterday, still just as true.

Fuma smiled, eyes full of a knowing Euijoo couldn’t decipher. “Still. Nico can be a handful, yeah? Even for me.”

Euijoo didn’t doubt that. He’d seen Nicholas’ unrestrained omega, the insatiability of a heat cycle that nearly killed him. Nearing the end of it, every muscle hurt, but every time Nicholas asked for one more, I just need one more, Juju, please, Euijoo was helpless to deny him, letting Nicholas take what he needed from Euijoo’s body even if the overstimulation made him squirm and sob.

The suppressant had made it more manageable this time around, but Euijoo still felt wrung out, the warmth of the meal worsening his drowsiness. He had been tired still when Fuma arrived, but now his head was heavy, words syrupy and slow, lulled to calmness by the combination of scents filling his lungs, the lingering taste of ingredients on his tongue.

It must’ve been for that reason that the next statement could leave his lips without the need to claw its way out.

“Wished you were there,” he said, a confession whispered into the space between them.

A quiet passage of time before Fuma responded. His hand came to rest over the beta’s thumb, circling the skin. His touch was cold, distinct from the heat covering Euijoo’s body. 

“I’m here now, Joo,” he said, the words mimicking the shape of a promise, sworn through the gentle smile on the alpha’s lips.

Euijoo offered to help clean after he finished eating. Fuma waved it off, leaving the beta to sit tired and useless at the table while he moved around the kitchen.

He liked watching Fuma. the alpha took up space easily, worked around it like it was reserved for him. He never rushed, never stuttered. Slow, calculated movements of dishing leftovers into Tupperware, of slotting it into Nicholas’ fridge. It was watching records spin, watching clouds tiptoe across the sky. It was a dragging feeling, in the best way. A quiet that wasn’t uncomfortable.

The perfect person didn’t exist. Euijoo knew Fuma had insecurities and shortcomings of his own, confessions of faults and fears told to the beta after months of building friendship and trust. But they hardly presented themselves in the confidence he wore.

Euijoo often found himself in between wanting to kiss him or be him. Seeing in him the qualities the beta aspired to have – self-assurance, a comforting presence, a sense of purpose. Euijoo rarely ever had any clue what the fuck he was doing. But watching Fuma’s example inspired him to be more patient, more intentional.

Perhaps it settled into an and, not an or. Euijoo would always adore Fuma, he was sure. He would always strive to be more like the alpha. And Fuma was undoubtedly Euijoo’s type – caring, handsome, attentive, full of love the beta didn’t think he deserved. He felt nearly consumed by his attraction to him.

And the affect he had on Euijoo physically, the way his scent nestled deep into the beta, pulled him loose, pliant. The subtle displays of dominance that made Euijoo want to roll over and beg for it, with a shamelessness so unlike himself.

He wished it went both ways, that he were more Fuma’s type as well, but he couldn’t have both. The adoration was available to him, not the romance. Euijoo was allowed to look, appreciate, aspire. Not to have, or hold, or kiss. It was just a matter of reminding himself that.

Still, the greed remained. And perhaps, sitting in the morning sunlight, eyelids barely carrying their own weight, he was coming to terms with it. Accepting it, even. 

* *

Fuma led him to Nicholas’ bed with a guiding hand on his lower back. He insisted Euijoo get more rest, especially before Nicholas’ next heat wave. Euijoo was too tired to consider the implications of it. His limbs were lifeless, energy reserve stretched thin as he wrapped around Nicholas’ warm figure.

Fuma settled on the other side of him, sandwiching the omega in between. The fit was a bit tight, Nicholas’ bed slightly too small for the three of them, but it only provided Euijoo the excuse to squeeze closer.

There was an even rise and fall of Nicholas’ chest, interrupted as he shifted slightly, head finding its way under Euijoo’s chin. The proximity heated Euijoo’s body in seconds, but there was a contrasting chill on his thigh. His eyes found Fuma’s hand, draped over Nicholas’ hip and resting on Euijoo’s. It was comforting, flattering, maybe a little unusual, but Euijoo couldn’t complain when he felt so grounded.

Nicholas’ scent was stronger here, wafting through the bedroom and demanding attention. But there was a subtle addition of dark oak and plum underneath it, the barely-there suggestion of cinnamon pulling it together. Euijoo breathed it in deeply, feeling himself slip under it.

Over Nicholas’ head, Euijoo stared at the soft downturn of Fuma’s lips and let himself think about the way they’d feel against his. He stared at the lidded shape to his eyes and reminisced how it felt to have them focused on him.

He wondered what thoughts accompanied Fuma’s every blink, and if he was going to lay with them even if no trace of fatigue colored the alpha’s face. Euijoo was too tired to ask, but thoughts of Fuma followed as his consciousness drooped down, down, until they were forming the fuzzy outline of his dreams.

* * *

There was something pressing against his neck. Fleeting and returning again. Quickly, gently, pulling him from sleep. His effort to shift was restricted by a weight over him, pining him down. A noise fell from his mouth, a low, complaining grumble, as he forced his eyes open.

The sun was higher, blinding even through Nicholas’ curtains. He squinted and turned his attention instead to the head of hair right under his chin. It forced his head up, exposing his throat. It was Nicholas, scenting him again, with a protective hold on Euijoo’s bicep.

“You’re awake,” he said, words cracked through his dry throat. It felt like it’d been such a long while since he’d last seen the omega. Nicholas looked calmer, face brighter, better rested than he’d been the night before.

Energized enough to catch an attitude, evidently.

“You’re awake, finally. I’ve been alone for, like, five minutes.” 

Nicholas was always clingy during a cycle. Before, a little while after, but especially in the middle. Five minutes must’ve felt like an hour to someone like him, who grew restless easily. Euijoo wondered if his waking him was intentional, even in its gentleness.

The beta was glad for it, as well. Nicholas was a fully functioning adult, sure, but cycles made people illogical, vulnerable, easily distressed, especially when left unguarded. Nicholas seemed fine enough, but Euijoo felt better knowing he hadn’t been alone for long.

He looked around the bed, as though another person would materialize. There was a small, empty space next to Nicholas where Fuma should’ve been, where he’d been when Euijoo dozed off.

Unless he’d imagined it, slept so deeply that even in his dream, Fuma had felt so real. He could still taste miso on his tongue, but was that just the cruelty of wanting it to be reality?

It was a nonsensical fear, but Euijoo couldn’t help worrying that maybe Fuma being here had been too good to be true. He hated to admit it, but the thought of still being alone with Nicholas, still solely responsible for getting the omega through his heat, scared him. Enough to char the edges of his scent.

The turn of scent caught Nicholas’ attention, whose eyes followed Euijoo’s to the empty space. “He’s getting me something to eat,” he said, tone gentle.

Oh. Euijoo nodded, relaxing with the aided push of Nicholas’ scent growing stronger, intended to comfort. Euijoo could hear it now, the faint sounds of movement down the hallway. 

He exhaled slowly as Nicholas continued, with a hint of irritation, “even though I told him I’m not hungry.”

He wasn’t actually upset – it didn’t carry through his scent. Which meant he was just in a bratty mood, complaining about things that didn’t hold any real threat. Moments like that didn’t always dignify a response – Euijoo learned that years ago.

“Are you feeling alright?” He asked instead. The agitated lines of Nicholas’ expression smoothed out. He sidled closer to Euijoo with a sigh, nosing his neck more. 

“I’ve been better,” he said, which was fair. “Just glad you’re here.”

Euijoo hugged him back. This was manageable, familiar. They hugged all the time, cuddled even still from time to time. Nicholas was an affectionate person, especially physically. Euijoo didn’t initiate it as much as he yearned for it, which only made him more appreciative when Nicholas pulled him into it, settling himself against Euijoo’s body like the beta was nothing more than a pillow to hold. 

The looming saccharinity remained in the air, but Nicholas smelled a little more like himself now, back to the gentle creamy base, the fresh strawberry scent. It was less blaring, less threatening. Welcoming in a way that didn’t make Euijoo’s beta dumb.

“At least you don’t need me anymore,” he said, aiming for genuine reassurance. Fuma was here, and Nicholas could get the proper help for his cycle from this point on. 

It sounded reasonable to him, but Nicholas looked at him like he’d spoken nonsense. “I’m always gonna need you, Joo.”

And that was sweet, nice to hear, but not entirely what Euijoo meant.

“I mean– Not for this,” he gestured weakly between the two of them. The omega’s eyebrow lifted, still not understanding. “With Fuma here. Your next wave will probably be, y’know…” He trailed, awkward in his attempt to dance around the subject. “More personal, between the two of you.”

Nicholas pulled away from him then, contemplation etching lines onto his face. “Honestly?” He started, but seconds passed before he worked out what he wanted to say. “I thought about asking you to join the first time.”

Euijoo made a sound. A genuine, startled sound that escaped before he realized it was coming. “What?” He asked intelligently. Surely, he’d misheard.

Nicholas took another long, torturous few seconds to respond, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. It was his nervous habit, one that didn’t show often; he wasn’t easy to intimidate.

“I was so worried. I was sure you could tell,” he said, finally, with a soft scoff, eyes far away as he thought back to it. “I know Fuma would’ve still said yes,” he looked at Euijoo. “To the both of us. But you just seemed so supportive of me spending it with him. I thought maybe you wouldn’t wanna join, so we did it without you.”

He searched Euijoo’s face like it was his turn to speak.

But Euijoo had no idea what to say to that. He’d never even considered joining. To be there for such a private moment. To even ask. To think Fuma might’ve said yes, as well. Even entertaining it completely decentered everything Euijoo knew.

He wasn’t unwilling. That Nicholas thought he would be was almost comical, thinking back to the hurt he’d felt at not being asked. 

It was just that he didn’t deserve it, spending that intimate time with both of them. Not when his feelings for them ran deeper than theirs did for him. Not when he wasn’t being completely honest with them, even now.

It could’ve just been lust for them, sexual attraction that didn’t mean much else. But for Euijoo, it meant so much more. It meant gnawing, suffocating pining that might’ve only worsened if he’d said yes to something like that.

Yet, the confession lingered. Nicholas wanting after his presence even with Fuma by his side. Nicholas being physically attracted to Euijoo enough to even consider asking. That Nicholas was sure Fuma still would’ve agreed. 

Euijoo has never witnessed Fuma like that, has never had his hands on the alpha in that way. He’d thought about it, far more often than friends should. But Fuma’s never been just a friend to him, has he? Has Nicholas?

He thought about it now, being privy to that vulnerability, the unguarded intimacy of being between them, the heavy mix of strawberry and plum that surely would’ve overwhelmed him.

He couldn’t shake the image, just like he’d imagined it last night. Nicholas’ heat. With Fuma. Fuma telling him just how to take care of the omega. Being under Fuma’s watch, being free of deciding anything. It lifted his body temperature, made his heart beat fast, fighting against the layers of skin and bone keeping it safe. Their hands on him, his hands on them.

Now that Nicholas’ scent wasn’t so blaring, Euijoo could pick up his own, the sweet-sour promise of citrus blooming with the fresh dampness between his thighs. These sweatpants were so far past saving. 

It was a subtle scent – shy, unthreatening, an exact mirror of his beta’s core. But it remained, even the undertones of amber, the subtle hints of freesia, announcing the abruptness of Euijoo’s shameful arousal.

And it didn’t go unnoticed. Nicholas, previously nervous in a way Euijoo didn’t see often, was settling back into his confident nature, egged on by the effect his words had on the beta. He came closer again, that rolling heat back on Euijoo’s body, bringing the beta’s attention to him. His eyes were lidded when Euijoo met them, full of a knowing look he wanted to shy away from. He hated when his scent did that, responded to his thoughts, exposed his emotions. But Nicholas claimed space against his neck again, and Euijoo could feel the greedy inhale the omega took, the way Nicholas’ body expanded to make room for a lungful of Euijoo’s scent. It only made him flush more.

“You get all sweet when I talk about him,” he said quietly, observationally. His tone softened again, enough to coax a stray animal. “You know we’ve spent his rut together.”

Euijoo took a sudden, deep breath. He, of course, did not know that.

Now he was looking for it, any memory of a period of time where neither of the two were talking to him. Euijoo wasn’t the type to push. If he’d reached out to both of them and they hadn’t responded, it was more like him to assume they hated him and wallow in self pity until one of them texted him back. But that wasn’t a rare occurrence for Euijoo, ever the overthinker.

So, no. He had no idea.

“Just once. I thought about you then, too. The way you hold me like I’m fragile.” Warm fingertips came to trace circles along Euijoo’s arm in gentle mimicry. He trailed them higher with every word, until his touch traveled under his hoodie, finding the expanse of Euijoo’s bare abdomen. “Like I’ll slip out of your hands.”

“Nico–” Euijoo called, words spoken through a shudder. He didn’t want to hear this, didn’t like the way it made him feel. The jealousy. It was coated in sugary, syrupy desire, but it was jealousy nonetheless. Over who, he wasn’t sure. Both of them, maybe. It was too much to handle, a feeling too big to try to understand. It coated the air, thickened his own scent into something he didn’t recognize, something that only pulled Nicholas closer, nose lightly grazing Euijoo’s neck.

“You’re always so gentle with me,” he continued, like he hadn’t heard. His hands were itching higher, bold, teasing the skin below Euijoo’s chest, dangerous. “Even when we fuck.”

Euijoo’s breath caught, eyes squeezing shut to cope with the vulgarity falling from Nicholas’ lips. It was so effortless for him, something Euijoo could never reciprocate. The jealousy slowly turned mushy as Nicholas spoke. Envy gave way to longing, hot and taunting as it lured Euijoo in. He arched slightly, pressing forward. He was pointing himself closer to Nicholas’ touch, and he didn’t know why. It all felt so out of his hands, like always, his body responding without listening to reason.

Nicholas pressed closer, somehow, soft exhales audible with the proximity. “Have you ever thought about it? Fuma, like that?”

Euijoo was ready to shake his head, but that would’ve been a lie, wouldn’t it? He has, of course, thought of seeing Fuma’s impressive control over his alpha slip, even just the slightest, to give way to desire, instinct. And being on the receiving end of that desire…

If Euijoo thought Nicholas’ cycle could kill him, he’d barely last one night during Fuma’s. But it wouldn’t just be him. Nicholas would be there too, both of them helping the alpha through it. Maybe it wouldn’t be so difficult, then.

“Fuma’s really sweet,” he continued, like Euijoo’s trembling state was answer enough. “But strict. And so big, especially during his rut.” He was imagining it. Euijoo could tell by the turning of his scent, the sugary coat returning. So similar to how he’d smelled yesterday, the scent that clogged Euijoo’s brain. 

He maneuvered Euijoo into movement, slotting them together and rocking slightly. He was still undressed, pulling Euijoo’s hand to touch his bare, hot skin. “I’d worry I couldn’t take it. That his knot would just split me right open.”

“Stop,” Euijoo whispered, shaking his head. But the request fell flat even to himself, contradicted by the way he could feel himself leaking. 

If the word reached Nicholas’ ears, he didn’t show it. He spoke again, against Euijoo’s ear. “But then, I’d think about you. About the sweet things you’d say, the way you’d guide me through it.” he turned his head, the barely-there sensation of his lips trailing Euijoo’s cheeks sending a shudder through the beta. “And I’d take it.”

He pulled away then, slightly, just to land his eyes on Euijoo’s. They were glossed-over, holding them to the moment. Euijoo wondered if Nicholas could pull anyone into his orbit like this, could string anyone apart like the rings of a black hole. Or if it was just him who became useless and malleable whenever Nicholas batted his lashes or lowered his voice.

He barely had the mind to lean back before their lips could meet. 

Fuma could’ve walked in any second. The idea of kissing Nicholas with him in the other room felt wrong. He should’ve been apart of it at least. Euijoo was the outlier. He shouldn’t have been here. He should’ve began packing his things when Fuma walked through the door. Should’ve been gone long before that, probably.

But he was rapidly losing the fight, as avoiding Nicholas’ kiss only put the omega’s focus back on his neck, where he was scenting the beta like it was as crucial as breathing. Euijoo’s grip on his hip tightened, and Nicholas sighed, squirming under the touch. 

“That’s why I need you here,” he said, like this made perfect sense. Euijoo had been awake for ten minutes at most, and Nicholas was already melting into his hands, spouting nonsense from the heat-blind faucet his mouth had become.

Without Fuma in the room, Euijoo, once again, had to be the voice of reason.

He grabbed Nicholas’ wrists, firm but gentle as he pulled them away, ignoring the vulnerable look on the omega’s face. 

“Nico, Fuma– We can’t do this,” he tried, words barely holding weight to his own ears. Slowly, he felt his limbs jellifying, heavy and useless in Nicholas’ arms. He had to stop this before it got to that point, before Fuma came back and Euijoo was just a gooey mess stuck to Nicholas’ mattress. But the mention of the alpha only seemed to make Nicholas looser, a dreamy sigh as he wrapped his arm around the beta’s torso, holding him in place.

“Fuma’s coming. He’s gonna make it better. It’s all gonna make sense,” he said, tone all dreamy, words slow, trying to convince Euijoo. 

He was completely lost, sense of mind scattered throughout the room just like his scent. To try making sense of the words tumbling out of his mouth would’ve been unreasonable. But there was the little seed of hope, nestling deeply to the right of Euijoo’s chest. Nicholas, warm, safe, sweet, even as he rambled nonsense. Euijoo couldn’t pull away, even if they were teetering on the edge of something that felt wrong.

“He’s gonna take care of us, Juju,” Nicholas said, like a promise, like he’d never been more sure of anything. Like it made sense for the two of them to be an us in the first place, let alone one for Fuma to look after.

Euijoo didn’t respond, because he wanted it to be true, wanted both of them to want him the same, to think of him as more than a friend. To let him into the we they were building.

But Nicholas spoke once more, a final, whispered request: “so don’t leave. Please.”

*

Nicholas had then fallen into silence, potentially dozing off again. Euijoo passed time staring at the ceiling, mind running circles as he listened to movement rooms away.

He didn’t wait for long. By Fuma’s return, it wasn’t a tangle of uncoordinated, desire-ridden kisses and touches he walked into, like Euijoo had feared. It was just this: the familiar weight of Nicholas’ body lax against his with heavy, even breaths that forced Euijoo’s own body to follow the rhythm.

The alpha set two bowls on the bedside table and gave Euijoo a questioning look he wished he had the answers to. With a little coaxing, Fuma pulled Nicholas to sit up on his own so he could get a proper look at the omega’s state.

“How’re you feeling?” He asked with Nicholas’ chin resting heavy in his palm, the back of his hand feeling the omega’s forehead. From this angle, Nicholas had to look up to hold eye contact with him. There was none of the attitude from earlier. Just the lidded, near-empty look in his eyes. His lips parted slightly, words quiet.

“Hot. Horny,” he said, Euijoo’s breath catching at the bluntness. Fuma laughed quietly, settling on the bed and grabbing a bowl.

“Let’s get some food in you first,” he said, tone lilting like it was a question, but it wasn’t. Euijoo knew it wasn’t. He watched it flicker across Nicholas’ face, the instinct to whine, complain, push back, claim he wasn’t hungry, that there were more important things happening in his body.

But that look was on Fuma’s face again – unwavering, unyielding, the underlying genuine concern. It was the look that stopped Euijoo from arguing before, now stopping Nicholas, who took the bowl Fuma offered him.

Maybe it was because of his sub-gender, the easy power he held over the two, even if he didn’t do much to exercise it. 

Euijoo thought, instead, that it was just Fuma – someone you wanted to make proud. Someone you wanted to hear kind, praising words from.

It was easy to be taken care of by him, and for that very reason, Euijoo opened his mouth when the alpha brought a spoonful of soup to it. The taste was slightly altered due to it being leftover, but it was just as warm, just as soothing.

He chewed through the vegetables, watching Nicholas do the same with a slight grimace. Nicholas finished the bowl, though, even tipped his head back to drink the remaining broth, and presented the empty dish to the both of them in a proud manner.

Fuma enjoyed a mouthful of his own while ruffling Nicholas’ hair in acknowledgement. The omega leaned away from the touch, partial against having his hair touched, even as it sat in a tangled mess on his head. His half-hearted scowl only made Fuma smile as he offered Euijoo another bite.

Euijoo has been here before. Countless times, among them, watching them, caught in the in-between. He lingered, around but not apart, not in the way he wanted to be. The sense of Deja vu wasn’t comforting. He felt stagnant, restless. Knowing so much more, about how Nicholas felt, how Fuma did. Yet the one answer he desired, and the confidence to ask for it, he still lacked.

He denied the offer, stomach churning as he lifted from the bed. Their eyes followed, but he couldn’t bring himself to look back, too afraid of what he might see. The questioning look in Fuma’s eyes, the vulnerable one in Nicholas’.

His eyes remained solely on Nicholas’ empty bowl, which he held his hands out for. It was still warm when Nicholas placed it in his hold, and he’d just turned his back, just began walking away from the bed, when Fuma called out.

He couldn’t ignore him. That would be rude.

So, he turned, reluctance in every aspect of the movement.

What he found in their eyes wasn’t so much as inquisition as it was concern, worry, or something similar. He felt what little pride he had ebbing away, facing them head on with what he knew was a less than easy expression.

“Is everything okay?” Fuma asked. The ridiculousness of it almost made Euijoo laugh, or scoff, or something in between just as self-pitying.

Instead, he nodded, lying. “I’m just gonna…” He motioned toward the dish, and when Fuma’s eyes left his and found Nicholas’, the second they shared a moment of silent communication Euijoo wasn’t privy to, the beta took his escape.

He was running again, avoiding things he didn’t understand. He did it often, when things got too tangled and emotions couldn’t be sorted into black and white. He feared the gray area, and often, when it confronted him, he ran.

To something more familiar, something in his control, like scrubbing soap into Nicholas’ bowl. The suds were pretty, iridescent. They didn’t distract him from the grey, but they gave him something to do, something to busy himself with as his thoughts raced themselves.

What did it mean, all the sugary goo Nicholas wanted to fill his head with? Why did he say all of those inappropriate things in the first place? Euijoo couldn’t turn back time, and even if he could, if Nicholas had asked, would he have said yes? Was he saying yes now?

It felt like a cruel joke. Euijoo was accustomed to Nicholas toying with him for entertainment, but this was too much, too far. Everything Nicholas said clouded Euijoo’s head with images he often tried to push away. Fantasies he only let himself indulge in cloaked under the dark protection of night, his bedsheets hiding the shameful touches to his own skin as he thought about the two of them. 

Have you ever thought about Fuma like that?

He had. Of course he had. How Nicholas would pull him loose, break him down, let him scatter. How Fuma would lead him back, piece him together, keep him in check.

Out in the open, in the daylight, he never let his imagination go very far. But he couldn’t stop thinking about it now, thanks to the sound of Nicholas’ voice around vulgar words, playing on loop in his mind.

You’re always so gentle with me. I’d think about you and I’d take it.

Did Nicholas think about him during every heat? Or just during Fuma’s rut? How often did they have sex outside of mating cycles? Did Nicholas think about Euijoo then, even when he wasn’t blinded by unsteady hormones and pure arousal? Did Fuma ever think about Euijoo?

If so, what did it mean? What the hell was Euijoo supposed to do with that information?

He wanted so badly not to get caught up in his own hopes, to believe his desires could ever come to fruition, because he knew better. But Nicholas was making it so hard.

“It’s probably good, Joo.”

He jolted, the bowl nearly slipped from his hands at Fuma’s sudden appearance. Euijoo hadn’t even noticed him come in, mind elsewhere as he scrubbed porcelain to death.

He set the dish in Fuma’s waiting hands, watching as the alpha ran it under cold water and set it down. His movements were calm – so unlike the hurricane of emotion behind Euijoo's every step – handing the beta his own bowl to repeat the process.

With both washed, the beta uncurled his fingers, the joints aching from being in the same position for so long. He stretched them out in the silence. This silence wasn’t comforting, but weighted. Euijoo made no move to fill it, opting to let it smother him instead, like everything else.

Finally, with a sigh, Fuma turned to him.

“Do you wanna tell me what’s on your mind?” He said. Euijoo really, really didn’t. He barely understood what was on his mind. How was he meant to convey it?

But Fuma, pressing, finally, unlike he had earlier: “You can talk to me, Euijoo,” with a light hand on the beta’s shoulder.

Euijoo’s eyes found his then, breath hitching under the touch, the difference in their body temperatures stark. He didn’t understand how Fuma was remaining so cool, how his expression never cinched into judgement. It just etched in concern Euijoo felt guilty for making him feel. This wasn’t his fault, nor Nicholas’. It was the fault of his own complicated heart making everything strenuous, tedious, draining. There was so much he didn’t understand, and Euijoo was so tired of not understanding.

“Why aren’t you upset with me?”

It wasn’t where he’d meant to start, the slightly accusatory tone that wrapped around the question. Fuma, undeterred, looked around as though something in the room would help him make sense of Euijoo’s question. 

“And I should be,” he said slowly, testingly. “Because…?”

Irritation. It was normal human emotion, but it wasn’t like Euijoo, especially directed at Fuma, especially in such an illogical manner. Yet, the slow thinning of his patience was catching up to him at rapid speed. Real frustration, not the front Nicholas loved to put up. It soured his scent, the sweetness ebbing off into something rotten, spoiled. It was subtle, unthreatening, swallowed by the scent of more intense sub-genders. But it was genuine, something he hadn’t been much of verbally. Fuma’s nose twitched, always in tune, his own scent becoming more prominent slowly. His alpha’s attempt to ease, just like Nicholas had.

He spoke again before Euijoo could work out his answer, squeezing Euijoo’s shoulder lightly, bringing him back to center. “Did Nico say something?”

“He said–” He stopped, because where would he begin? Nicholas had said so much, and most of it, Euijoo could never bring himself to repeat. He shook his head, resetting. “I think he wants me to stay. For his heat, he–” a shaky breath. “Asked me to.”

Fuma’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh,” he said, surprised. Not angry or jealous. Just surprised. Then a simple, “Okay. As long as that’s what you want.”

Euijoo did scoff then, the mocking sound coming from him before he could catch it. Frustration was getting the better of him, clipping his tone, making him rude to someone who didn’t deserve it. “Don’t you mind? My being apart of it,” a weak gesture to nothing at all. “Of this?”

Fuma hummed, leaning against the sink like this was a casual conversation, not a severe threat to Euijoo’s mental state. 

“Haven’t you always been? Apart of it, I mean.”

Well, no. 

Actually, maybe, if Euijoo allowed himself to stop for a second. To think about the situation objectively. In some way, Euijoo could say he has always been apart of it, this friendship between the three of them that has been growing over the course of a year. He was apart of it, whenever they’d invite him over, make him dinner, let him stay, squished between the two of them on Nicholas’ couch with a comforting movie on. 

But he always went home that night, or the next day, back to his own empty apartment, with only his scent, subtle, but loud in the way it echoed off his walls, reminding him of his loneliness. He always returned to this – grey thoughts and big emotions and getting lost in chores in a poor attempt at keeping his mind busy. This – anxiety-induced bloody nailbeds and a chest full of too much adoration with nowhere to direct it.

It was temporary, his being apart of it, and half-hearted in his attempt to not get too comfortable, to save himself hurt. He couldn’t even fully enjoy it, most times, with the awful nagging voice in the back of his mind reminding him that the warmth had to end, eventually.

Seconds passed. Fuma straightened once more when Euijoo didn’t respond. He studied the beta’s figure, the mess of emotions likely sitting on his face. He turned his attention fully, positioned Euijoo to do the same. Euijoo went limply, drained of a fight he never fully had.

“Listen, Euijoo. If anyone else had told me Nico was in pre, I would’ve dropped everything to come to him. But it wasn’t anyone. It was you.”

Euijoo opened his mouth, ready to spout some bullshit, to argue that he wasn’t anyone special. But Fuma shook his head, stopping the beta before he could start.

“We trust you. I had no doubt you’d be there for him. You always are.” Euijoo looked away, shying from the heaviness of it all, the weight of trust he struggled to accept. Fuma placed a gentle touch on his chin, turning Euijoo’s eyes back to his. “But you don’t have to be. If you wanna leave before the next wave hits, that’s alright.”

A heavy pause as he let Euijoo consider it.

“But if you wanna stay, I’d like that.”

Euijoo inhaled, a slow, shaky movement. He’d given a straightforward answer. Something the beta could work with. It was his decision – that was what it boiled down to. Fuma wasn’t jealous, or angry, but receptive to the idea of Euijoo being here, seeing through the end of Nicholas’ heat with them. Just like Nicholas said he’d be. Nicholas begged him to stay, but Fuma was giving him the option to go. To put all of himself on the offering table with them, or protect himself from further hurt, further disappointment.

He didn’t want to leave. That wasn’t why he’d said all this, why he’d asked those questions. He liked Nicholas needing him. He liked the idea of Fuma needing him, as well. He’d become so comfortable in their space in the last few hours, and here they were, offering him more. They both wanted him to stay, blatantly. And even if the intention behind the offer was simply lust, or convenience, nothing similar to the hopeless love he harbored for them, it was still an invitation, to be something more than an observer, something a little more than a friend.

But he had to consider it. There was a part of him thinking somewhat clearly, the very frightened side of his beta that wanted to aim for logic, objectivity, safety. Was accepting the right decision? He’d accepted before, and his relationship with Nicholas had remained the same. It could happen again, that they could spend this intimate time together and nothing would come of it. Was that something he could heal from? Could he constrain it, the hunger for more, when already, he was on the verge of bursting at the seams?

Euijoo genuinely, sincerely, did not know.

Fuma’s touch fell from his body, returning the safe distance between them. “Just think about it. Whatever you decide will be okay, yeah?” He waited until Euijoo nodded with him, confirmation that he’d heard Fuma, had understood what the alpha was saying. Then he left, leaving Euijoo alone in the kitchen.

In the newfound silence, Euijoo pressed his forehead to the freezer door, feeling the cold material hum against his skin. He imagined it flowing through his body, cooling inner points down. 

He saw himself as a logical guy, usually. He always thought his actions through, always considered multiple outcomes. Objectivity first, emotions second. A typical beta, really. But often, the line between logic and anxiety blurred, until the fear of rejection psyched him out of doing something he truly wanted.

This, he truly wanted, and they were offering it to him. Something as weighted, as personal as this. Was anxiety strong enough to stop him from taking it?

He pushed himself away from the machine and stepped out of the kitchen. He glanced at the front door, at his bag on the couch, his shoes by the entrance. He fully considered it – walking out of the door. What it would mean for the three of them if he declined Fuma’s offer, denied Nicholas’ blatant plea with the excuse of protecting himself. The reaction was the harsh twist of his stomach in knots, knowing he could never do that. He wouldn’t.

Maybe, this wasn’t his most logical decision. He turned anyway, down the hallway, towards Nicholas’ ajar bedroom door.

The journey felt long as he considered what he was walking into. The unconventionality of it all, the nonchalance they both seemed to carry about it, inviting Euijoo to a bed they’ve only previously shared with each other. Euijoo’s seen most shades of vulnerability color Nicholas’ skin.

But Fuma? Both of them, together? 

Euijoo had asked for it, begged for it quietly, hoping only the most merciful deities heard. He didn’t think they’d answer, and truthfully, he didn’t know what to do with the fulfillment. But there he was, pushing the door open, being greeted by Fuma’s warm smile and Nicholas’ hopeful expression, and maybe, just maybe, Euijoo didn’t have to think about it so much.

* * 

He’d barely had time to sit before Nicholas was crashing into him, pining him to the bed in a tight hug. He shot a questioning glance at Fuma, who, sitting against the headboard, only shrugged with a playful smile. 

The alpha busied himself with carding his fingers through Nicholas’ soft hair, combing out the little tangles as he filled Euijoo in on Nicholas’ attitude the previous week. That could’ve hinted to them that his cycle was been nearing, but truthfully, Nicholas was always a little moody. 

The only time he’d perk up, according to Fuma, was when he remembered his plans to see Euijoo, planning his outfit: loose sweater, favorite skirt, subtle necklace. And what they could do: shopping, lunch, ice cream, the arcade.

Euijoo realized, thinking back on the previous day, that they’d done all of those things. They’d all been Nicholas’ ideas that Euijoo just agreed to – Do you wanna go there? Are you hungry? Let’s get desert – but he’d made it seem so spontaneous. The only thing they didn’t get to was grabbing another meal at the end of it all, a small dinner to accommodate their big lunch. The bus ride to the food district had been cut short by certain events. 

Still, it was sweet, how much thought Nicholas had put into their day together. Euijoo hadn’t even known. His own plan had been simply to 1: See Nicholas, 2: Don’t lose mind, and he had been doing pretty good, until, well.

Fuma wished he could’ve gotten work off to spend the day with them. Euijoo did too, that maybe then, a lot of this could’ve been avoided. But Nicholas, in disagreement, shook his head, hair tickling Euijoo’s skin where he was nuzzling him.

“I’m glad it happened. I’m glad you’re both here,” he said, words slow, tone dreamy. Fuma’s gaze was soft looking down at him. “And that you’re staying.”

Euijoo pulled his eyes away from the alpha and nodded, a hand rubbing Nicholas’ back. “Me too, Nico,” he said, and it was true.

* * *

Morning passed as the sun traveled higher. Fuma slid down at some point to lay with them, and grew excited telling Euijoo about the new sets of trading cards he’d bought. He maintained it well, but Euijoo could see the faint way his lips twitched up with the hint of a smile every time the beta asked a question. Euijoo didn’t know as much about Pokémon as Fuma did, but it was a big interest for the alpha, so Euijoo always tried to give his full attention when Fuma talked about it.

The second wave of Nicholas’ heat was coming slowly, hinted at through the progressive way Nicholas added to the conversation less and less, the way he tossed and turned between them in discomfort. He’d make room for himself in Euijoo’s space to pepper kisses on the beta’s neck. Then he’d roll over and do the same to Fuma, stealing a kiss or two whenever the alpha wasn’t talking. 

Euijoo felt a little perverted watching, but not shameful enough to look away. It didn’t make him jealous, seeing them kiss, not like he thought it would. It made him a little antsy, though, yearning for a few of his own.

Never enough to ask for it. His fear of crossing the line was more prominent. There had to be rules in place, maybe, like no kissing Fuma, or no kissing Nicholas in front of Fuma. Euijoo wasn’t sure, but he didn’t press. He kept his desperation to himself, just in case. He wasn’t sure what the lines were, but he didn’t wanna cross what they could’ve been.

Then Nicholas rolled back over to him, and Euijoo saw it, the way the omega’s eyes flicked to his lips, flicked back up, quickly. He thought Nicholas was gonna do it then, kiss him.

Instead, his face crumpled in pain as a quiet, broken noise fell from his mouth. He clutched his abdomen and curled in on himself as much as the space would allow. It was Fuma who asked what was wrong, and Nicholas trembled a little, with a quiet wince and a mumble about it hurting.

As a beta, Euijoo only had mild mating cycles – a day or two of rapid mood-swings and the persistent thrum of arousal under his skin. He spent a majority of it oscillating between fever-heat and cold-sweats. All of it sucked, but the worst part was always the cramps – a clenching, shooting pain in his abdomen that pain killers could only do so much to help. Those moments of discomfort where probably nothing compared to what Nicholas felt, whose cycles were all-around more intense, more demanding. Euijoo heard omegas talk about it, the hurtful pangs that made it difficult to think or move, that made them vomit, and sometimes even led them to the hospital.

They weren’t at their worst yet, thankfully, but they had woken Nicholas up the night before, had rendered him frantic, desperate to make the pain go away. Euijoo hadn’t noticed when he’d started sweating lightly, or panting softly, but he saw it now, the omega’s pain clear as day. 

Fuma pulled Nicholas against his chest, tucking his sweat-damp bangs out of his eyes. He reached around to rub soothing circles into the omega’s abdomen, the massage aiming to ease the discomfort. Nicholas’ complaints died down, but it wouldn’t help forever. Eventually, he’d need more than this.

There were very few ways Euijoo know how to help – massages, pain killers, sex. He aimed for, “Do you wanna take medicine?” He was already moving to get up, but Nicholas shook his head, grip tightening on Euijoo’s arm.

“Don’t leave,” he whispered, words barely reaching Euijoo’s ears. Even so, his winced again and trembled slightly. It was difficult seeing him in pain, but, if Nicholas didn’t want him to leave, Euijoo wasn’t sure what to do. He peered over the omega’s shoulder, eyes searching Fuma’s, but the alpha shared no sign of worry.

“What do you wanna do, Nico?” Fuma asked, tone quiet to match Nicholas’ fragile state. Nicholas’ eyes opened then, a little hazy, finding Euijoo. They darted down, then up again, just like they had moments before. 

“Kiss me,” he said, so quietly that Euijoo thought he misheard.

“What?”

Nicholas’ hand came to his nape, protective. “Kiss me, Euijoo. Please,” he said, already leaning in.

There was an alarm sounding in the back of Euijoo’s mind, piercing and bright. This was certainly a line. This was Nicholas reaching his hand out to pull Euijoo across it. His eyes flickered again, behind the omega, to where Fuma was watching. Euijoo was searching for permission, maybe, still cautious even now. 

And Fuma gave it in the form of a consenting nod. Slowly, the siren’s blaring red bled out into rosy pink and pastel plum. The sound of it, once piercing, faded into something gentle, like Nicholas’ soft lips meeting his.

He’d never kissed anyone with an audience before. He was hyper aware of Fuma’s eyes on the two of them. Part of him desired the attention, reveled in deserving it. The other part, however, wanted to shrivel up with embarrassment or shame. He couldn’t relax, too self-conscious about how he might’ve looked.

Nicholas could feel it too, the tenseness in Euijoo’s body, different from the way he usually went pliant when they kissed. He pulled away, forehead against the beta’s.

“Come on, Euijoo. Like we usually do,” he said, placing a languid kiss on Euijoo’s chin. Euijoo flushed at the reference of usually, like kissing was something they just did outside of Nicholas’ cycle. 

He was pulled in once more, without the time to retort. Nicholas kissed harder, hand at the back of Euijoo’s neck. He dug teeth into Euijoo’s bottom lip, licked the area in apology when the sharp pain made Euijoo wince. The sting slackened his jaw, leaving his mouth open for Nicholas to lick into.

It was familiar, the assertion, the way Nicholas soothed it. How Nicholas kissed him, held him, took from him – it was all the same. Euijoo found comfort in it, let it force him to forget his concerns.

Nicholas’ tongue was warm and wet and Euijoo tried not to lose himself in the sensation, hips twitching as he refrained from grinding against Nicholas’ thigh. His efforts proved futile when Nicholas pulled him forward, draping Euijoo’s leg over his own, fitting himself snug against the clothed outline of Euijoo’s cunt. Nicholas rolled forward, bare thigh to where Euijoo could feel himself throbbing.

He groaned, the Deja vu hitting him so strongly it could’ve made him nauseous. It was just like the night before, panted breaths and desperate movements as they used each other, too heat-drunk to think their actions through, to go further than pitiful humping. He remembered how it felt to be that helpless, how he’d wished he could just let go, could be led by someone else, could watch them lead Nicholas.

The difference, in that case, was now, there was another scent wafted through the apartment, a combination of earth and something edible lacing the thick sweetness, cutting Nicholas’ sugared scent into something more bearable. Euijoo breathed it in, exhaled a moan into the kiss as the heady mixture worked through his body. He thought he’d never like a scent more than he did Nicholas’, but the mix of the two felt forbidden. It put the apple of Eden to shame, and had Euijoo been in the garden faced with the intoxicating combination, he would’ve been just as weak as Eve, would’ve given in twice as quickly.

It wasn’t only the scent, but the effect it had on him, the way any remaining tenseness that Nicholas’ scent hadn’t worn down was melting completely. It wasn’t just brain fog, but the feeling of his brain shattering gently. Euijoo could only watch the pieces float away as his hips bucked against Nicholas’ skin.

Maybe they stayed like that for hours, or minutes, meeting each other halfway. Euijoo barely noticed the passage of time until a small noise fell from Nicholas’ mouth, rhythm stuttering. Then there were shallow movements of Nicholas slightly rocking forward, rocking back. 

His head fell away to lay heavy on his pillow instead, giving Euijoo the full, heart-racing sight of Fuma dragging kisses up his neck. Nicholas’ hand left Euijoo’s body to hold onto Fuma’s leg instead, rolling his hips back to chase the pleasure, to find more.

Euijoo felt his breath speed up, could see the quickened rise and fall of his own chest out of his peripheral. Then Fuma’s eyes opened, finding Euijoo’s immediately, as he clenched a chunk of Nicholas’ neck between his teeth.

Euijoo watched plush skin mold around the bone and thought he could feel the sensation on his own throat. Nicholas winced and Euijoo heard himself echo it with a whimper, staring at the sight.

It was such a small action – leaving a love bite on Nicholas’ neck – but it was alluring enough to spike Euijoo’s scent, to make Nicholas’ spike in response. He worked up a rhythm, grinding back to meet Fuma, rocking forward to meet Euijoo on the off-beats, gasping at the continuous pressure.

And he looked so beautiful like that, skin flushed and dotted with big, red marks Fuma kept biting into him. His lips barely met to form the sounds when he spoke, a slurred string of more, more, please, delirious already, just from this. Euijoo leaned in again, cupping the omega’s face and pulling him into another kiss, angling his thigh better for Nicholas to meet. Nicholas barely reciprocated, letting weak sounds into Euijoo’s mouth. 

If he focused, under the loud noises tumbling from Nicholas’ lips, Euijoo could hear soft grunts coming from Fuma’s lips, a quiet stream of pleasured sounds as Nicholas grinded against him.  It made Euijoo bold enough to kiss Nicholas harder, spurred on by the chorus of their voices together. He trailed a hand up hot skin to touch Nicholas’ chest, but Fuma was already there, pinching a sensitive nub between his fingers. Euijoo turned to the other instead, pinching and pulling like Fuma did, keeping the omega stimulated.

This side of Nicholas was new to Euijoo, laying pliant, letting himself be pulled either way, so different from the way Nicholas usually demanded pleasure from him, took it himself if Euijoo was too slow, too spacey. It must’ve been the addition of Fuma, Nicholas’ ability to let go, fully, in a way he couldn’t with only Euijoo. The thought would’ve made Euijoo sad if he could focus on anything other than Nicholas’ broken noises against his mouth, a string of whimpers and gasps as he shivered apart. 

All at once, he stiffened, and twitched, and soaked the space between them, and Euijoo watched, tongue darting out against his dry lips in response to the syrupy sweet turn Nicholas’ scent took.

 

The room fell into silence afterward, save for Nicholas’ stuttered panting and the wet sounds of his hips twitching against Euijoo’s leg. Then he finally stilled, shiny with sweat, and Euijoo wanted to say something, anything, but he worried about saying something stupid, about exposing too much, and breaking the moment.

It was Fuma who spoke, moments later. “Does it still hurt, Nico?”

His voice was a bit scratchier than it had been earlier. Euijoo tried not to think too much about it, or the way his thighs pressed together in response, slick and coated in his own liquid. A mess, just from dry humping and thick, scent-clad air. He’d barely registered Nicholas’ answer, but it must’ve been yes, because Fuma was repositioning them, laying Nicholas on his back and pulling Euijoo to sit up.

The alpha sat behind him, back to the beta’s chest, and it was the first time today Euijoo felt him so warm, the heat radiating from his chest. Euijoo was shaking lightly, overwhelmed already without anything having happened yet, and he was half-waiting for himself to fall to pieces. But behind him, Fuma was holding him together. Despite his expectations, Fuma made no move to address the omega’s form, nose instead trailing the dip of Euijoo’s collarbone.

“You smell good,” he said. “So sweet. Sour, like fruit.”

That wasn’t something the beta heard often. Most people couldn’t really smell him at all. Even now, Euijoo could barely smell himself over the heady mixture of alpha and omega clogging his nose, but Fuma nosed along his neck generously, groaning on an exhale. Euijoo swallowed back a pitiful noise as Fuma’s hands wandered and pulled at the strings of the beta’s sweats.

“You’re dirty,” he said, peering over the beta’s shoulder to gauge the mess of cum and slick Nicholas left on his pant leg. He traced a finger through it, and a trail followed, holding to the skin as he pulled away, slobbery, sticky. Gross, but Euijoo only made another punched-out noise at the sight, swallowing harshly.

Fuma wanted him to take his pants off, said something about them being too wet and uncomfortable, so Euijoo maneuvered busily, shrugging them off. The habit to be self-conscious still pricked in the back of his brain, but he was slowly slipping too far to pay it mind. This is what he desired, instruction, and he didn’t need to think twice about following it.

He was bare, exposed, open to see and smell. The removal of his pants announced his arousal-sweetened scent, so much so that even he could find it in the air now. As his cheeks warmed with embarrassment, Nicholas’ nostrils flared, eager hands coming to lift his hoodie, to put him on full display for the both of them to look at. Fuma made that noise again, deep, quiet, but loud in Euijoo’s ear. 

“Look at you, Joo. all wet,” he said, words burning Euijoo’s cheeks further. He didn’t know what to do with all the attention, but he couldn’t think straight enough to feel awkward about it, especially not when Fuma was pulling his thighs apart, and gently dragging a finger through the wetness coating his cunt. Euijoo’s hips jerked, a broken noise falling from his mouth. The touch was barely anything at all, but he was so turned on, aware of every sensation on his skin. He didn’t know what to do with all the energy inside him, and Fuma just kept talking to him in that low tone, right against his ear: “You don’t even beg. Are you always this patient?”

Before Euijoo could even try to form an answer, Nicholas was doing it for him, nodding eagerly. He joined Fuma in playing with the mess between Euijoo’s legs. “Always, so good. So perfect, Juju,” he said.

Now, Euijoo was well aware of his partiality to praise. But this – the conversational tone of them talking about him, complimenting him like a doll, touching him everywhere but where he really ached – this brought on something new entirely, something that made Euijoo’s eyelids flutter, body trembling as he willed himself not to grind back against Fuma’s pelvis. He could only whimper a response, feeling a little like a lamb being sacrificed, but even that thought made him twitch and clench around nothing. Freak.

Fuma pulled his hand away, fingers lightly coated in a mixture of slick and precum. Euijoo thought, for a second, he’d make the beta clean it, another act to break down pride Euijoo barely had.

But Fuma brought them to his own mouth instead, slick noises in Euijoo’s ear as the alpha cleaned his own fingers. Euijoo’s eyes were stuck on the sight, even with the slightly uncomfortable way he had to look back to see it, breath stuttering as Fuma moaned. 

“Better than I imagined,” he said. Euijoo wanted to ask after that, wanted to fully wrap his head around the suggestion of Fuma imagining what he tasted like. But he couldn’t; Fuma was still talking to him, and Euijoo’s head spun trying to keep up. “D’you know what you taste like?”

Euijoo hesitated. Sometimes, during his cycle, his scent was more than a quiet suggestion drowned by everyone else’s. In those moments, he could smell it – how sweet he’d get, easy and sugared down from hyperarousal. And if he got needy enough to soil his own sheets, he could taste it, just barely, in his nose, on his tongue. Not as prominently as he could taste Nicholas’ scent, or Fuma’s, but there, still.

So, he hesitated. Was that a yes? He didn’t know. He didn’t wanna lie. He had a faint idea, but directly from the source, like Fuma had? Like Nicholas had, last night? Definitely not.

He must’ve taken too long to form an answer, because Fuma stopped waiting for one. He leaned closer, chin hooked over Euijoo’s shoulder. “Wanna?”

This, too, was a line. Unlike Nicholas, Fuma wasn’t going to lead him across until Euijoo gave the word. He could’ve been misreading it, but Fuma’s eyes flickered to the beta’s lips and lingered there before they dragged back up. Euijoo has been sure of very little in his life, but this message he heard loud and clear. 

And he nodded, of course. What he really wanted to do was beg for it, but his mouth was full of cotton, so he just nodded.

But Fuma only hummed in a disapproving manner that made Euijoo want to crawl out of his skin. His hand carded through the beta’s hair, blunt nails grazing scap, a feeling Euijoo was quickly becoming addicted to.

“Say it, Euijoo.” He was so close, lightly nosing Euijoo’s cheek. He was so close, and still not giving the beta what he wanted. “Use your words.”

Euijoo tried to think through the distracting proximity. It’d been so long since they’d expected more than a gesture from him. Now, his tongue was heavy as he tried to remember how to use it. Fuma’s lips were so pretty, plump and slightly tinted. Euijoo wanted them on his own so bad, and they were so close, if only he’d do what Fuma asked. So he willed his lips to part, willed the syllables to form.

They came out dry, cracked, but they came out: “I want it,” along with a stuttered, tacked on, “please,” just to be sure.

The alpha smiled, kind, even now, and kissed Euijoo with that kindness. His lips were soft, pace unhurried, starkly different from the pace Nicholas often set. He explored Euijoo’s mouth slowly, tentatively, a hand cupping the beta’s cheek to keep him in place, making sure he could taste himself on Fuma’s tongue. 

And it was just short of maddening, the taste of Fuma mixed with something inescapably Euijoo, forced to becoming familiar with himself in a way he’d never been before. Fuma’s patience outran his own, so that it was Euijoo squirming and whining as the alpha kissed him breathless.

He’d lost sense of space in it, forgot, for a second, where they were, what they were meant to be doing. So, when impatient hands came to grip any part of Euijoo’s body, the beta startled. 

“Unfair, so unfair, ‘m so– it’s so hot,” Nicholas whined. His complaint pulled them apart. Euijoo could feel the coat of spit on his lips from how messy the kiss had gotten, a string of it tying them together as they separated, before snapping gently. 

Nicholas squirmed, whining about the painful arousal searing through him, the aggressiveness of his body demanding attention. But Fuma’s eyes lingered on Euijoo’s for a few heavenly, suffocating seconds before he turned to the omega. Only then, when his eyes were elsewhere, did Euijoo feel like he could finally breath again, willing his mind to come back to him.

But it wasn’t coming back. He could tell, looking at Nicholas’ ruined state, the sweat-damp ends of his hair. Even as Euijoo tried to fall into the habit of thinking and planning, his mind ultimately ran blank, distracted by the sight of Nicholas slowly unraveling. He’d never seen Nicholas like this, his hips jerking up against the beta’s thigh in a barely-effective manner. Euijoo has seen him teeter on the edge, surely, but never truly fall, always too alert to slip.

Now, with an alpha here to take charge, Nicholas was falling into the pit of omega headspace, unguarded, unrestrained, with faint traces of glitter circling his irises. Euijoo shuddered to think about him in this state even without the suppressant. This was a situation Euijoo didn’t know how to handle.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to. Not alone, at least.

“I don’t think we’re giving our omega enough attention,” Fuma’s voice sounded, a lack of true concern evident in his tone. Euijoo was pretty sure his heart stuttered. Our omega. Immediately, Euijoo’s mind got caught on the words. They ran circles around themselves in his head. Our omega, ours. 

Euijoo couldn’t tell if it was a front being put up, Fuma’s patience as the other two men shivered to pieces in front of him. Surely, Fuma was affected witnessing such a sweet, eager omega present himself like this. The only announcement of the effect this had on him was the strengthening of his scent. The sweeter notes became more prominent with his arousal, cinnamon and chocolate that did nothing to help Euijoo’s already slowed brain. 

Other than that, the control Fuma had on his alpha was impressive, and Euijoo envied it. Even now, his beta yearned to brace the familiar territory of offering everything to Nicholas, giving the omega the opportunity to take. 

But Fuma wasn’t doing that, so Euijoo refrained. The alpha reached around instead, to nudge Nicholas’ legs. He barely pushed, but they fell open pliantly, ready, waiting. Euijoo took a deep, shuddering breath at the sight of Nicholas’ cunt, the mixture of slick and precum glistening under afternoon sunlight. His scent strengthened, further than Euijoo’s ever smelt it before, sticking to every surface of the room, thick, heady, mind-melting. He had the urge, like the previous night, to bury his face it it, let himself drown in everything Nicholas. 

But, Fuma wasn’t doing that. He seemed to know the pace he wanted to set up, so he didn’t budge, even as Nicholas begged. 

“Need to– wanna– it’s too–,” he said, struggling to make sense, cutting himself off with breathless noises. Euijoo shushed him, massaging his abdomen as he waited for instruction.

“He gets like this sometimes,” Fuma said quietly. His thumb caressed gentle circles along Nicholas’ inner thigh. “He’ll come in and out of it. We just have to help him find his way.”

Euijoo nodded, grateful to have a solution he didn’t have to come up with. He was sure any of Fuma’s ideas would be better than his own (ie. letting Nicholas rub against him until the fire became less insistent), and even if they weren’t, the lack of responsibility made him feel lighter. Maybe he was too eager to give up control, but holding the reins wasn’t in his nature. It was too much pressure that threatened to crush him, too much blame if he made the wrong call.

Fuma was an alpha, but he was more than that – kind, patient, intelligent, and Nicholas trusted him with this, so Euijoo did as well. It wasn’t up for debate, and the finality of it, the lacking threat of change, helped him relax, helped him focus on what was important.

“Do you want to help him?” Fuma asked, and smiled at the way Euijoo was nodding before he’d finished the sentence. He spoke over his shoulder. “Do you want Euijoo to touch you, Nico?”

His reaction was similar to Euijoo’s – over-eager nodding, squirming as the thought alone riled him up. He was such a sight, stuttering. “So bad. Juju, Alpha– please.”

“Don’t make him wait,” Fuma said. Euijoo felt the instruction everywhere. Fuma was going to tell him exactly what to do and when to do it. All Euijoo had to do was listen.

He traced the plush skin of Nicholas’ inner thigh like Fuma had. His fingers came back wet and shiny, Nicholas having dripped slick all over himself, hot and worked up as he chased the light touch. Fuma said something about impatience Euijoo barely caught, but the words made Nicholas still, made him look past Euijoo’s shoulder and straight to Fuma. Then they found Euijoo’s again, still wide and pleading, but silently. Euijoo leaned down to kiss the pout off of his lips as his finger trailed through the wetness between Nicholas’ thighs. 

He circled Nicholas’ clit, and the omega moved with him, hips following the touch as tiny, broken noises came out of his mouth. He moaned gratefully when Euijoo made the touch firmer, but Euijoo knew it wouldn’t hold him over for long. 

He held his thumb against the bundle of nerves and focused on sliding a finger between Nicholas’ walls instead. He was wet enough for Euijoo to slide another in immediately, and Euijoo heard himself moan quietly as Nicholas squeezed around him. He could feel the omega pulsing, could feel him dripping around his fingers. It was maddening. Euijoo ran his tongue over his lips as Nicholas’ scent clogged his nose.

Over his shoulder, Fuma groaned. It was quiet, but Euijoo heard it clearly, his body responding in a new wetness from his own cunt. He’d imagined hearing Fuma like this, but even a small reaction like that put his imagination to shame. He doubled his efforts, wanting Nicholas to feel good, but also wanting to create a sight the alpha liked. 

Emboldened, he eased a third finger in – the most he’d ever had in the omega – and Nicholas took the stretch easily, fluttering around the touch. Euijoo curled his fingers slightly on the next drag and Nicholas mewled, the sound high and pretty. Fuma leaned forward with him, towering them both, to graze Nicholas’ chest, to pinch his nipple harshly. Nicholas shook, back arching slightly, as Fuma whispered affirming praises to the omega that worsened the ache between Euijoo’s legs. 

One day, maybe, if Nicholas wanted Euijoo there for his next heat, if Fuma wanted Euijoo there for his rut (and yes, the thought did make Euijoo shiver, head falling to Nicholas’ shoulder weakly), it could be Euijoo he was directing those words to. Just maybe, if he did well enough this time. So, even if fingering Nicholas the way he liked was cramping Euijoo’s hand, he didn’t let up, paying special attention to the spots that made the omega jerk.

Then, finally: “Close, gonna– fuck, please, don’t stop,” he babbled, hand sliding between their bodies to wrap around Euijoo’s wrist. Euijoo listened, kept the pace of pressing his fingers to the hilt, curling them on the way, thumb against the omega’s clit. It was a lot to keep up with, and the sight of Fuma playing with Nicholas’ chest did wonders in the way of distraction, but Euijoo locked in, because it was important. Making Nicholas cum, doing a good job for both of them, felt like one of the most important things he’d ever have to do.

“There you go,” Fuma said quietly as Nicholas’ body stilled, soaking Euijoo’s fingers in creamy liquid. Euijoo was learning that he liked the way Fuma treated the omega, the considerate, soft approach behind his every touch, every word, even the teasing ones. His awareness of Nicholas’ fragile state was evident.

Euijoo pulled out when Fuma told him to, slowly, listening in case he hurt Nicholas. Fuma pulled him back, straightened him so he was in his previous position, back to the alpha’s chest. His fingers found Euijoo’s chin, pointing his face toward the sight of Nicholas shaking and panting. It wasn’t like Euijoo would’ve looked away, but the fact that Fuma was holding him in place, that he couldn’t avoid the sight if he wanted to, made something inside him hot. 

Yesterday, Euijoo couldn’t pick up his own smell with Nicholas’ permeating everything, stuck to every cell in his body. But maybe Euijoo’s body responded stronger to Fuma’s, because now, Euijoo could smell his scent tangling with Nicholas’, thick in a way it’s never been before. Spices and cream and flowers and fruit. It was overwhelming, so many notes doing so many things to his brain. 

The edge of his hoodie just barely covered where he was vulnerable and bare, mindlessly pressing himself against the clear outline of Fuma in his own pants. He thought he could feel the alpha pressing back, and this, really, had nothing to do with Nicholas or his heat. This was the selfish chase of his own pleasure, the suggestion of more that made his head heavy. But Fuma held it, kept it from lolling back.

“Look at him, Juju. How pretty he looks, all ‘cause of you.”

Euijoo’s eyes shut with a faint, pained moan as his cunt clenched. Fuma caught it immediately, like he wasn’t looking at Nicholas at all. He shook the beta’s head lightly, until his eyes fluttered back open. Look, Fuma reminded him, and Euijoo found the sight again – Nicholas shiny with sweat, flushed from exertion, covered in his own liquid. Liquid that Euijoo’s own fingers were still coated in. He haphazardly wiped some it on his hoodie. 

“How did you help him last night?”

Euijoo’s brain nearly short-circuited thinking back on the things they’d done. He couldn’t say most of those words out loud. He said, dancing around it, “I just touched him,” and hoped the alpha would accept that answer.

Again, Fuma hummed. It was either that, or the light trail of his fingers down Euijoo’s spine, ever so slow, that made the beta shiver. He wanted to know what Fuma was thinking when he made that noise, if Euijoo was disappointing him, or testing his patience, anything at all.

Fuma made no move to tell him, maybe because Euijoo was too foggy to actually ask. “How’d you do that?” 

Euijoo swallowed, throat dry, eyes unconsciously running over Nicholas’ body. The omega was trembling, unable to sit still as small noises fell out of his mouth. But he wasn’t complaining, seemingly used to the way Fuma was taking his precious time. Euijoo had never seen Nicholas so patient. 

He wanted to help him, wanted the attention on the omega instead, but Fuma hadn’t given him instructions for that. He felt, suddenly, like he couldn’t approach the omega without permission. Like he’d do it wrong, somehow, if he was too eager to wait and listen. And he couldn’t deny the way Fuma’s attention made him hot all over, tingly where the alpha’s fingers grazed his skin.

“W-with my–” He closed his eyes for a second, tried again. “With my tongue, a-and…” It certainly wasn’t helping that Nicholas was staring up at him, like he was waiting for Euijoo to spit it out, to admit what they’d done. It only made Euijoo more nervous, made him struggle more. “A-and I–”

Fuma shushed him gently, mercifully, and Euijoo’s mouth shut, half-formed words dying off. He ran warm hands up the beta’s back, placantingly, as he spoke. “Then, I think Nico deserves to return the favor.”

Euijoo shivered as the implication washed over him – Nicholas doing to him what he’d done. He was so on edge, and the thought alone made his cunt flutter. It scared him, offering himself up like that, to have Nicholas intimate with him in a way no one’s ever been before. 

But also, it excited him as he thought about it, having such a gentle part of Nicholas on Euijoo’s most tender spots. Everything Fuma said found a way to excite the beta more, to address the greed Euijoo was so used to swallowing down. Asking Euijoo what he thought, what he wanted. There was pressure in it, but it was also freeing.

Fuma turned to Nicholas. “Wanna know what our Juju tastes like?”

Another our for Euijoo’s brain to loop, this time, with him as the focus. The thought of him being theirs, Nicholas being his and Fuma’s – surely that made Fuma belong to Euijoo as well, and the thought pulled a soft, pitiful noise from the beta’s mouth, thighs pressing. The persistent little voice in the back of his mind reminded him how pitiful he must’ve looked, but the sound of it was drowned out by Nicholas, who answered, words strung and whiny. He nodded along with it, like the words weren’t convincing enough. He was begging for it still as Fuma guided Euijoo to switch spots with him, like Nicholas was afraid Euijoo would change his mind. 

Euijoo would never. He wanted it too much, needed it, at this point, and he knew the focus should’ve been on Nicholas, but Fuma seemed hellbent on splitting it between them, pushing them both until they were desperate and needy. Even now, when the beta was trembling with want at the alpha’s own suggestion, Fuma didn’t let Nicholas come near him. He held the omega up, parted his legs farther. 

Euijoo made a quiet, pleading noise, but Fuma ignored it in favor of pulling Nicholas into a kiss. It was a position Euijoo had been in himself, but he couldn’t imagine he looked as hot as Nicholas did, fully displayed and whining into the kiss.  

The perfect way to describe it was sinful. Nicholas and Fuma were the picture of everything forbidden, and as Fuma traveled a hand down Nicholas’ body, spreading the omega open for Euijoo to see, the beta could only press his legs together, rock against his own skin as he tried not to imagine it was his body Fuma was slipping a finger inside. Euijoo could barely stand it, squirming as his cunt twitched in interest. Fuma pressed deeper, deeper, scissoring the digits as Nicholas’ body jerked. His fingers were thicker than Euijoo’s, stretching the omega around them, preparing him, Euijoo assumed, to take the alpha’s length.

And it donned on him, then. He was going to watch Fuma fuck Nicholas. He was going to see them have sex, one of the most vulnerable sides of them. All for him to witness.

Fuma eased another finger in and Euijoo moaned, breathy and ragged, watching Nicholas’ opening mold around them. God, he was so horny, and Fuma had called him patient earlier, but now, the alpha was working his tongue into Nicholas’ mouth, and Euijoo felt two seconds away from crying.

Then Nicholas pulled away, breathing harshly, shaking his head even as his hips bucked into Fuma’s touch. 

“J-just, I’m ready, I can t-take it, plea–”

Fuma cut him off, buried his hand in the omega’s hair, and said, ever so cruelly, eyes finding Euijoo’s: “Tell Juju how bad you want it, Nico.”

Euijoo hadn’t experienced many heats in his life. Well, he’d only experienced two, both of which have been Nicholas’, but he’d never considered treating the omega like this, stretching him thin when he was already so tender. It felt like watching someone being tamed, watching himself be tamed in return, held in place, forced to learn restraint. And where Euijoo felt like he could pass out from sheer arousal alone, Nicholas was taking it so well, following every instruction given.

His eyes found Euijoo’s as well, glitter swimming in them. And they were both looking at him, at his full desperation, the way he couldn’t school his expression into something less dumb, less pathetic, as he panted harshly. 

“So bad, so bad, s-s–” Nicholas slurred, eyes on Euijoo’s like it was the beta’s decision, like Euijoo had a say in anything at all. The only aspect of this even slightly in his control was a desperate noise he let out, head fuzzy as he wished the alpha would just get on with it.

“Fuma, Fuma, just– please,” he heard himself say. His words only made Nicholas beg more in echo. Fuma’s eyes traveled over Euijoo’s pitiful figure, before his lips curled into a proud smile and he slipped his fingers out of Nicholas.

Nicholas let out a noise, dismayed at the newfound emptiness. Quickly, Euijoo was overcome with the desire to see him full again, to see Nicholas’ walls pliant around whatever they’d have him take. He was seconds away from reaching out, from attempting to make it happen, pheromones making him move on pure desire, forgetting his need for permission. 

Then Fuma stood from the bed and caught the attention of them both. He shrugged his shirt off, fully displaying skillfully formed muscle. Euijoo swallowed a noise, but Nicholas let it out freely, a desperate sound, as they watched the alpha undo the strings of his sweatpants.

He was taking so long, movements ever so slow. Or maybe it just felt like forever. The only fully-formed thought in Euijoo’s mind was that there was no going back from this, not for Euijoo, not once he saw Fuma’s fully bare glory.

And then, he did see it, as Fuma stepped out of his bottoms shamelessly. Euijoo couldn’t stop his eyes from jumping down to the length between his legs. His breath caught at the sheer width of it, the pink tint to it. His mouth watered, and Nicholas whined impatiently. He leaned down to his hands, presenting himself with the same impressive lack of shame. Euijoo felt it for the both of them, cheeks burning just like the rest of his body, just like Nicholas’, hot, hot, hot.

And, completely disregarding Euijoo’s already fragile state, the lack of clothing doubled Fuma’s scent, made it stronger, suffocating. He couldn’t keep his noise in this time, a broken sound as he stared at the full picture of Fuma.

The view ended too soon, not soon enough, Euijoo didn’t know which. Fuma slid behind Nicholas again and displayed a large hand along the omega’s back, keeping him in place. His other traveled between Nicholas’ legs, gaze stuck to the sight between them, a sight Euijoo couldn’t see at the moment.

What he did see, however, was Nicholas’ body jerk, and Fuma’s hand pulling away soaked in the omega’s juices. He brought the hand to his own body, to his cock, to coat the length in it. It was almost painful, the way breath punched out of Euijoo’s lungs. 

He couldn’t watch it, Fuma’s own hand around himself, Fuma’s hips rocking into it, tip appearing and disappearing through the opening his hand made, the low noises coming from him. It was too much. Fuma wasn’t doing it to tease him, surely not, but the explicit sight still made Euijoo hot all over as he tried not to imagine that it was, that he was– 

His eyes squeezed shut, but his chest was shaky with panted breaths full of scent-ridden air. It was too much. He couldn’t handle it, couldn’t escape it.

Then, soft lips were on his, a warm forehead on his own when they parted, pulling him away from the ledge. 

“Come back, Juju. Come back to me, please,” Nicholas said quietly, almost a whisper. Euijoo blinked bleary eyes open, willed his breath to even as he stared at the omega’s eyes, the brown outlined with glitter. He was somehow more coherent than Euijoo, and the thought was humiliating. Maybe because he was used to it now, having gone through a few heats. But this was Euijoo’s first time feeling things so intense. He had no experience organizing the mess in his body, in his mind. All he knew, for sure, was heat and desire and the wetness soaking his inner thighs. 

Well, that, along with the familiar look in Nicholas’ eyes, worry, concern, whenever Euijoo got like this, scattered and scared. He knew that look, he knew Nicholas, and Fuma, and that they were here together, and Nicholas was in heat, and Euijoo was supposed to be helping him, helping them.

Fuma leaned closer as well, over Nicholas’ back, and rubbed blunt nails against Euijoo’s scalp.

“You can take a break if you need it, baby,” he said, concern laced in his tone. 

But that, the thought of having to sit out, of not being here with them, only frightened him further. Already, every moment of this was so sacred, and they were counting on him. He couldn’t do that to them, to himself.

He shook his head, blinked harshly, imagined it clearing his foggy head.

“I’m here, I’m– I’m sorry,” he said, and Nicholas shushed him gently, kissed him just as gently. Fuma said quiet praises, words of kindness and encouragement, fingers carding through the beta’s hair until Euijoo felt himself trembling less.

“You’re fine, you’re doing perfect,” the alpha said, and Euijoo nodded, trying to believe him, trying to ignore the voice in his head telling him he was fucking this up.

 

Even though Euijoo could see the tremble in Nicholas’ body, could feel the heat radiating off of him, neither he nor Fuma made any move to continue until they were fully convinced the beta was okay. The attention only made him feel more guilty, even if he appreciated the concern.

Finally, Nicholas’ worry subsided, returning his arousal to center stage. Euijoo breathed a bit easier when their focus was no longer on his humiliating near-slip. They both returned to their former positions, and Euijoo adjusted into a more comfortable one, leaning against the headboard. 

Nicholas kneeled in front of him, digging teeth into his bottom lip as the alpha pressed against his opening. Euijoo could only guess how far he was in by Nicholas’ lewd expressions – his mouth falling open, lip dotted with blood, when Fuma was halfway in; a loud, broken cry and creased eyebrows when Fuma pressed deeper. Fuma muttered encouragement the entire time, praises for how well Nicholas has been doing do far, but the gradually increasing strain in his voice was prominent. Euijoo bit his own lip just so he didn’t do anything stupid, like beg for nothing in particular. 

It was Fuma who announced the full sheath: “Fucking hell, Nico,” as he pressed to the hilt. Nicholas’ head fell completely, finding refuge in the Euijoo’s inner thigh. He slid out slower, so slowly, but the next slide in was harsher, a little quicker. Nicholas mumbled something, voice high and whiny, but Euijoo’s skin muffled it. Fuma buried a hand in his hair, and Nicholas winced as the alpha pulled him upright. He could barely hold himself up, already, and trembled as Fuma did it again – pulling out slowly, snapping in, building rhythm. 

Euijoo was sure the sound of their skin hitting, the sound of their pleasured noises intertwined, was going to be stuck in his head for months, maybe even years to come. Nicholas strung together incoherent cries and curses, and Euijoo squirmed, pressed thighs together, grinded against his own skin, against the mattress under him.

They looked so hot, unbearably so. They weren’t touching him at all, because this wasn’t about him. That was fine. Euijoo was fine with that, but fuck if he wasn’t so turned on he thought he’d sweat his skin off in the next few minutes. It hurt, the persistent ache in his cunt as it clenched and fluttered, empty, yearning to be wrapping around something, anything. 

He thought, for a moment, that they’d forgotten about him, lost in their own pleasure. Euijoo might’ve forgotten about himself, about the physical expanse of his high-strung body taking up space, too caught up in the sight of their love-making.

Then, Fuma, through gritted teeth: “Look at him.” He was talking in Nicholas’ ear, but Euijoo heard him loud and clear, breath catching at the way they both turned heavy gazes onto him. It was hard to tell if Nicholas was truly looking at anything through the unfocused glimmer in his eyes. But Fuma’s gaze was unmistakable, eyes trailing over Euijoo’s body in a manner the beta could only understand as hungry, predatory. 

He was so different, then, than the Fuma that giggled brightly at lame talk show jokes, that played Pokémon games at the cafe, that made Euijoo food and watched him eat it out of sincere care. 

Now, he was…

Euijoo didn’t know. It was a little frightening. It was suffocatingly hot, the darkness in his eyes, the subtle gold around his irises as he edged on his alpha’s headspace. Euijoo’s eyes didn’t do that. They sparkled silver at best, only during his cycle, and even then, it was faint. He wondered, distantly, if they were doing that now – responding to alpha and omega the way the rest of his body was – as Euijoo felt like his head was close to spinning off his neck.

Fuma continued, cruel, even now, words shaky with the force of his thrusts. “Isn’t he pretty? Don’t you wanna make him feel good, too?”

Oh. 

Euijoo had forgotten about it, their earlier promise that Nicholas was going to touch him, was going to return the favor. He’d forgotten about it, but he remembered, now. And the previous Euijoo that felt a bit scandalized, a bit shy at the thought, had died, maybe, because now, with the thought pressing in his mind, it was all he could think about. He couldn’t form the words, but he could hear himself thinking them loudly in his mind.

Touch me, please, someone, anyone, touch me. Please, it hurts.

He wished he could say it, thought maybe it’d make them move faster. But Euijoo’s never been the type of person to push for what he wanted. He was a natural waiter, just in case they changed their mind, had something else planned. Even though the waiting was killing him slowly, cruelly, he would always do it. It was in his nature.

Nicholas nodded to every word Fuma said, bleary eyes staring at the beta. Fuma’s thrusts were slow, deep, and every time Nicholas jerked forward, Euijoo thought he could feel the force of it in his own cunt. 

Nicholas repeated the words back to Fuma, stuttered, punched out in rhythm. “P-pretty, pretty, wanna– I wan– l-let me–” He struggled, wiggling in the alpha’s hold.

Fuma hummed and Euijoo thought he could feel the vibration, even across the bed. “I dunno if you can handle it, Nichol.” His voice was mockingly sweet, sugary in a way that felt deceptive. It made even Euijoo wanna roll over and submit.

Nicholas shook his head. “Wanna, I can, please,” he said, and his words were slowly tipping off, slowly bleeding together as Fuma’s hips slowed. He pressed to the hilt, stayed there, grinded into the deepest parts of the omega’s cunt. Nicholas groaned, the sound deep and guttural, like it’d been pulled from him. Then Fuma let him go, guided him down with a hand on his lower back, positioned his face centimeters away from the heat between Euijoo’s legs.

“Show me, omega,” he said, tone void of the sweetness it once held. Now, it was deep, heavy, commanding in a way Euijoo’s never heard before. Even if it wasn’t a direct order – Euijoo shuddered to think about what that would sound like – Nicholas was in no condition to push back. He kneeled pliantly, burying his face in Euijoo’s skin.

The first contact of tongue to skin was electric. Euijoo let out a wet gasp, hips jerking as Nicholas licked into his opening. He wasted no time exploring Euijoo’s walls, tonguing the sensitive tissue eagerly. It was quick, sudden, ruthless. Euijoo’s hand found his hair, grip harsher than he meant it to be, but he was trying to be still, trying not to buck up against Nicholas’ face, fighting against his body’s instinct to chase the pleasure. It was a sensation he’d never felt before. Nicholas seemed to have a natural gift for it, licking Euijoo’s walls in a way that made his eyes roll. 

Then Fuma pulled out, slammed back into Nicholas harsher than before. Nicholas jerked with the movement, forehead resting on Euijoo’s pelvis as a high, wet sound left his lips. His hands found purchase in Euijoo’s skin, nails digging crescent shapes into them, but the little sparks of pain were really the least of the beta’s concern. 

Fuma guided Nicholas’ head up again, pulling the omega away from Euijoo’s skin. “Come on, Nico,” he grunted. “You said you could do this.” 

Nicholas only whimpered in response and wrapped his lips around Euijoo’s clit. Euijoo’s head fell back, a dull thud against Nicholas’ headboard. Nicholas’ previous rhythm was shattered, now just licking along the sensitive nub mindlessly. 

Then Euijoo felt the solid outline of teeth against it, just lightly, grazing, barely even a bite, but it made his hips jump. Each thrust from the alpha rocked Nicholas’ body forward, creating a rhythm Euijoo found himself chasing. His hips twitched into motion, and he gave in, hand buried in Nicholas’ hair to grind against his face. Nicholas moaned and whimpered, lolled his tongue out, letting himself be used, and Euijoo could feel every sound vibrating through him. 

It was impressive how quickly he approached the edge like that, rubbing himself again Nicholas just right, Nicholas’ nails in his skin keeping his mind from floating off. With his head limp against the headboard, the gaze Euijoo met when his eyes opened was Fuma’s, dark and golden, and so very alpha, his alpha, in that moment, and Euijoo’s brain didn’t even try to correct itself, didn’t try to decenter itself from delusion. It just let him have it, the feeling that Fuma was tethered to him, that Nicholas was, just like he was tethered to them. Here he was, displaying vulnerability in a way no one else had ever seen before, and he knew he’d never be anyone else’s, not the way he was theirs. 

Vaguely, he heard himself muttering profanities, felt himself mouthing the words mindlessly. He was wet everywhere, coated in sweat and precum and slick and Nicholas’ spit. Even on his face, where he was pretty sure drool was streaming down his chin. He was too pleasure-dumb to wipe it off, to try to look less dirty. He just let the feeling of Nicholas’ tongue against his body pull him tight, tight, tight, as he watched grunts fall from Fuma’s lips, heard the noises pitch higher and draw out longer, saw the alpha’s face scrunch in pleasure.

“So good, sogood, so–” he heard a voice say, a voice so very his and unlike himself at the same time, but he could feel the words vibrating through his throat as they came up. 

Then he was tensing, a hand coming to cover his mouth as his hips bucked against Nicholas’ face, shattering into an orgasm he couldn’t compare to anything he’d felt before. His hearing bled out momentarily, only a dull ringing in his ears as it washed over him.

It came and went, and took some of the brain fog with it. Gradually, he felt the tenseness in his body ease. He didn’t remember closing his eyes, but when he opened them, his vision was clearer, mind a little less dumb. He felt less on edge and a little more in control of himself, enough to actually focus on Nicholas again. 

His eyes found the omega’s, whose face was completely soaked. Euijoo’s pent up arousal, all over his chin, his mouth, his cheeks, his nose. Some on his eyelash, even.

“God, Juju,” he barely heard Fuma say, barely saw the alpha’s hips stutter. 

Nicholas made no move to clean himself off, face back to resting on Euijoo’s wet skin. “Mm– fuck, fuck, please,” he moaned, hips pressing back to meet Fuma’s. The alpha hissed in response, the noise drowned out by the sound of their skin meeting. 

Last night, after Nicholas had gotten Euijoo’s face all dirty, Nicholas had kissed it off, had cleaned his own cum off of the beta’s tongue. He didn’t really understand it then, Nicholas’ desire to taste himself on Euijoo’s skin. 

Now, though, seeing Nicholas’ face covered in everything Euijoo, the beta understood the need behind the action. He’d tasted himself mixed with Fuma earlier. He could taste himself mixed with Nicholas as well, if he wanted.

And he did want. Nicholas didn’t have to be the only one filthy.

Euijoo pulled him upright. Fuma helped him sandwich the omega between them, pinning his arms so he’d squirm less. His thrusts forced broken noises through Nicholas’ parted lips, and Euijoo licked into the open space, moaned as he tasted himself again, this time with something so distinctly Nicholas mixed. 

Then Nicholas pulled away, almost like he’d been burned, body jolting harshly. Behind him, Fuma’s face crumpled. 

“Shit, Joo, I’m–” he said interrupted by his own harsh breath. Euijoo noticed the subtle hints, the early signs of Fuma’s knot forming. Fuma’s previous, steady, harsh pace was slowly falling off as his hips stuttered. His movements were becoming fueled less by control and more by instinct, need, desperation. Nicholas’ mouth fell open to gasping breaths of his own, hips rolling without rhythm.

“Juju– alpha, ah– J–” he cried, incoherent, brainless, being pulled back on Fuma’s length as water pulled in his eyes. 

Euijoo thought he’d already seen Nicholas’ most vulnerable moments, but he’d never seen him like this: strung out, iridescence circling his irises, body writhing in anticipation. He’d never seen submission like this, the way the omega’s head lolled, the way his neck bared, the harsh pull of a sob through his body. “I can’t, Juju, I c– I can feel it,” he said, shaking his head, words slurred and wet. “Too big, it’s gonna hurt.”

Euijoo couldn’t tell if it was genuine fear, or if Nicholas just wanted to be comforted. Either way, it wasn’t gonna hurt. The stretch might’ve been overwhelming, but Nicholas could take it. He’d done it before, and his body was begging for it, sweet omega scent in the air, slick and cum coating his skin, heat working through his body. And, despite his cries, his hips were still chasing the feeling, still stuttering back.

Maybe Nicholas had just forgotten, in the foggy abyss of omega headspace. Maybe he didn’t know anymore, that this was what he truly wanted, what his body craved. Maybe it was Euijoo’s job to remind him, to guide him through it, just like Nicholas had confessed to imagining.

So Euijoo ran a hand through his hair, rested a palm against his cheek, said against his lips, “You can, beautiful. You will, okay? You’ll take it so well, make our alpha so proud. You can do it. We’ve got you.”

His mouth ran like a motor, saying whatever felt right, uncaring about the technicalities. Even so, Nicholas hung onto his every word. An empty, trusting look formed in his shiny eyes as Euijoo talked to him, held him, complimented him. He still cried, warm tears painting streaks down his flushed cheeks. But slowly, he began nodding along with the beta, repeating after him in broken, wobbled echoes.

“Euijoo–” Fuma called, stealing his attention. His tone was ragged, breathless, startling the beta – he hadn’t expected to hear his name. There was so much to focus on. “He’s so tight, fuck– I can’t, can’t–” 

He couldn’t knot him like that, not with Nicholas’ body sucking him in, tightening around him, so much that Fuma was reduced to short thrusts. The knot would be too early, too shallow, painful, even. Nicholas had to relax. Euijoo had to help him.

He cupped Nicholas’ chest in one hand and massaged the tender flesh. His other traveled lower between them until his fingers met Nicholas’ clit. He circled it gently, just to aid in Nicholas having something else to focus on, something else to chase, something to forget his fear in. And Nicholas was so sensitive, brainless and pliant with Fuma still rocking into him from behind, that it was only moments later that he stilled. His head fell to Euijoo’s shoulder, arms gripping the beta’s bicep as the orgasm hit him, sudden and intense. 

But then, something about him melted, and the second he sagged into Euijoo’s arms, Fuma’s hips kicked, harsh, quick, deep, and he held them there, pressing the full form of his knot right against Nicholas’ soft spots. 

Nicholas took it beautifully, just like Euijoo said he would. His eyes rolled and words tumbled from his lips, but they were quiet, whimpered, and barely intelligible. Still, Euijoo, ever obsessed with the omega, picked them apart: so big, you’re so– Fuma. 

His hand left Euijoo’s arm and scrabbled to find Fuma, hold protective on the alpha as he circled his hips. The fear he’d felt moments prior was replaced by heat-driven greed, spurred on by the feeling of finally being knotted, the promise that he could be knotted again, and again, as much as his alpha’s body would allow. It was evident, the sight of his omega getting excited about it, and it only rendered him further insatiable.

Euijoo could only imagine it through Fuma’s reactions, the nearly-pained sounds as Nicholas clenched around him, fluttered around his length, cunt tightening to milk him dry. The knot made Fuma more sensitive, drew his voice higher with warning, and in just seconds, it became too much, maybe, because his body tensed, jaw slacking with a pitched groan. Euijoo’s eyes locked on the sight, the way the orgasm forced his hips to kick in what shallow way they could given the knot, the way his scent seemed to sugar over, the pull between his eyebrows that the beta had never seen before.

His hold on Nicholas’ hips tightened, rendering the omega motionless, and Nicholas’ words collided at the feeling of being filled, tongue losing what little coherency it had. He whined and melted just like he had before, and shivered through another, less intense orgasm. 

It was sudden, unexpected, and hot, watching Nicholas cum from such little stimulation. Euijoo had still been overcoming the sight of watching Fuma cum. 

Euijoo didn’t have much time to linger on either. He was quickly occupied with holding the omega through it as his small cries of sensitivity pooled water into Euijoo’s neck. Still, with Fuma’s forehead pressed to the omega’s back, deep breaths shuddering through his body, Euijoo knew the explicit images would linger in his mind for nights to come.

 

They caught breath, calmed down, and maneuvered to lay on their sides as best as they could with Fuma and Nicholas still knotted. Fatigue was clear on Nicholas’ sweat-drenched face, but his hips never stopped rocking back, whimpering at the feeling of Fuma’s knot pressed into him so perfectly. The sight made Euijoo’s chest ache, knowing Nicholas must’ve been so drained after two days of this. The omega’s pitiful state made Euijoo wanna help him through it quicker, so he always found ways to keep his hands on the omega, to keep him stimulated.

Well, that, and the fact that he was so reactive to every touch, jumping at even the slightest grazes to his skin. Beside Euijoo’s empathy sat his perverted mind, enjoying the sight of Nicholas so pliant between them.

The next hour or so came and went, and they managed to pull two more orgasms out of him – one pinching his clit, biting his nipples, the second when Fuma’s knot went down enough for him to grind it into Nicholas in shallow movements.

By the time it went down completely, Fuma could slip out of him. Nicholas whined about it, cried softly due to his heightened emotional state, but he was sated, for now, and drowsy, exertion pulling at his eyelids. 

Fuma was in a similar state, words slow from fatigue, but they kept talking to Euijoo, kept roping him into new topics of what do you want to eat later? Nico’s been watching this show, like they didn’t want to sleep yet. 

Fatigue won, of course, but Euijoo kissed their skin as they drifted. He was nearing the edge of unconsciousness as well, but he used the silence to appreciate them, their smooth, peaceful expressions, the way they held each other, the way they held him.

Before, a sight like this might’ve made him double over in jealousy. Now, he could only attribute the swelling in his heart to pure adoration. He wondered what changed. Maybe it was because he felt closer to them. Earlier, he’d worried he’d come to regret this decision. Now, looking back, the worry seemed ridiculous. He could never regret spending time with them.

Euijoo had no idea what was to come after this. He let the promise of sleep and their intertwined scents convince him it didn’t matter, that the only thing that mattered was this, right now – him in their arms, them in his. 

* 

The next time Euijoo’s eyes opened, Fuma was already awake. Nicholas was still knocked out between them, and Fuma made a shh gesture as he pulled away from the omega. Euijoo followed, slipping out of the bed, and Nicholas, drained from all of the work his body was putting him through, barely stirred.

Fuma led him to the bathroom. The air was a bit thicker than it had been the previous evening, when Euijoo sought refuge between the four walls. It was still much less stuffy than the rest of the apartment, and now, much less of a means to escape.

He bent over slightly to turn on the shower, and Euijoo turned away from the sight of his bare ass, willing his face not to heat up. The beta felt a mix of relief and disappointment when he turned back and the sight was gone. 

“Coming?” Fuma asked, and Euijoo’s jaw fell, shock written on his face.

“In there?” He pointed helplessly. “With you?”

The alpha smiled with a light shrug. “If you want.” He didn’t wait for Euijoo’s answer to step under the spray. Behind the curtain, Euijoo heard water splashing, saw the outline of Fuma’s figure. 

Euijoo, admittedly, forgot about all the lines he didn’t wanna cross when the three of them were tangled in Nicholas’ bed. But this was different! They had all been heat-driven then. Now, they were of sounder mind, and Euijoo’s earlier worries came creeping back to him. 

Surely, it wasn’t much of a problem if Fuma offered. If this was a clear boundary for them, the alpha wouldn’t be crossing it. 

So, the other problem pressing in his mind was how intimate this was, how domestic. It was silly, he knew, but the only person he’d ever showered with was Nicholas, and only during his heats, just to make sure the omega got cleaned properly amidst his fatigue. Nicholas wasn’t even here, right now. It was just the shower curtain, a barrier between him and all of Fuma’s naked glory.

The curtain pulled back, and Euijoo startled at the sound of it rustling. 

“Joo, I can smell you overthinking from here. It’s not that big of a deal,” Fuma said. He had that amused look on his face, and his words only embarrassed the beta further. His hair was damp now, along with the rest of his body. Euijoo’s eyes followed as water droplets rolled down his toned chest, his defined abdomen, the teasing lines just below his waist. His resolve crumbled at impressive speed, and mindlessly, he felt himself nodding.

“Okay,” he said, and Fuma held the curtain open as he stepped into the shower. He insisted on scrubbing soap into Euijoo’s back, and despite the humidity quickly enveloping the bathroom, Euijoo found himself willing away shivers when the alpha’s touch lingered.

It never progressed farther than that. That contradicting sense of relief and disappointment returned, but Euijoo tried not to think about it as Fuma scrubbed Nicholas’ unscented shampoo into the beta’s hair.

He never made a big deal of taking care of Euijoo. It reminded the beta a lot of himself, of the how quickly it became second nature to look out for Nicholas when they became friends. Nicholas had his own ways of showing Euijoo attention and care, but they were rarely ever like this – simple actions of making him food, leading him to bed, washing his hair. 

It was nice being on the receiving end, and being the object of Fuma’s caretaking tendencies. He wondered if this would be his daily life if he’d been brave enough to just ask the alpha out. The thought was selfish; Fuma was obviously very happy with Nicholas. But they still weren’t dating, and Euijoo thought if it were him in their shoes – liking each other, knowing the other liked them back – he wouldn’t wait around like they were.

Under the rhythmic spray of the shower, Euijoo felt his lips move before he could stop them.

“Can I ask you a question?” He said. Fuma hummed absentmindedly, hands busy like combing product through the beta’s scalp required all of his attention. 

“Why, um–” His tongue darted out to wet his lips – not that they weren’t already dotted with water droplets. He took a deep breath and it filled his lungs with ripe plum and the unscented base of shampoo. “You and Nico aren’t dating. Even though…”

He hesitated, letting his words hang until Fuma echoed them. “Even though?”

“Even though you’ve been…intimate for the past year.” Euijoo himself cringed at the dodgy wording, but Fuma didn't tease him. Instead, his arms fell, his mouth twisting as he thought the statement over. 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” he settled on, and made no move to answer further than that. He picked up the shampoo bottle, and Euijoo reached for it, an offer to return the favor. He was a bit shorter than Euijoo, which made the beta’s job ever so slightly easier as he shampooed Fuma’s hair. 

It also meant Euijoo didn’t have to look in his eyes as he asked why?, quiet under the sound of running water. 

The question was met with silence, and when Euijoo got the courage to look down, Fuma’s gaze was distant, eyebrows furrowed in thought. 

Euijoo’s lips parted, ready to tell him to forget about the question. Then, Fuma spoke, beating him to it. Just like Euijoo’s, his tone was soft, voice muffled, and his eyes looked up to find Euijoo’s, uncaring of the dangers of getting shampoo in his eyes. 

“We’re just waiting, I guess,” he said, with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Waiting. The answer only gave Euijoo more questions. Waiting for what, exactly? The right moment? The next cycle? Until Euijoo got the hint stopped clinging onto them? Euijoo’s movements halted as the thoughts raced through his mind, and Fuma took the opportunity to guide him back under the spray with a small reminder to close his eyes.

He wasn’t going to say more about it. Euijoo could tell, and he didn’t wanna push any harder, so he kept the confusion to himself and followed the alpha’s reminder.

Fuma didn’t say much else the rest of the shower, but he was never cold. He was careful not to get product in Euijoo’s eyes as he rinsed the shampoo out. He made sure Euijoo didn’t still have soap on his back before he turned off the faucet. He lead the beta out and gently towel-dried his hair. He let Euijoo return all favors, and gave the beta a warm smile when he caught Euijoo staring. He was never cold, so Euijoo tried not to overthink what he'd asked, tried to reassure himself that the dimmed light in Fuma’s eyes was just his imagination.

* *

Fuma finally gave him something new to wear, a hoodie the alpha had left at Nicholas’ place. It was soft and baked in Fuma’s scent, the notes strong and comforting. They led a very drained Nicholas into a freshly ran bath, and Euijoo scrubbed soap into his skin while Fuma put the omega’s soiled sheets in the washer, along with Euijoo’s dirty clothes. When they were all clean, they situated on the couch, and Fuma pulled up a delivery app for them to order food from. 

It was all nice, simple, the word domestic hanging in Euijoo’s mind again, and he let himself indulge in the thought of his every day being like this, if the three of them were more.

Most of dinner was the two of them bringing food to Nicholas’ mouth, considerate of how tired the omega was. With droopy eyes, full stomachs, and the last bits of sunlight slowly faded, Euijoo sat shoulder to shoulder with Fuma, with Nicholas draped over their laps like a house cat. He was showing Euijoo a drama he’d been into, but Euijoo was admittedly paying very little attention.

Fuma and Nicholas were pretty sure the next wave would be fairly light, and expected the heat would break tomorrow. There was relief in that; Euijoo’s body was already grateful at just the thought.

His mind, however, was full of all-consuming dread as it drifted to the bus ride tomorrow. The stiff seats, the cold wind at the bus stops, the silence of solitude; he wasn’t looking forward to any of it. The thought of leaving ached, pressing deep on his chest like a weight.

Nicholas readjusted, scooting up so he could nuzzle Euijoo’s neck. He inhaled deeply, sighed lightly, covering himself in the beta’s subtle scent. It reminded Euijoo of when they first became close. At that point, he wasn’t afraid of his affectionate side scaring Euijoo off, and he scented the beta constantly. 

I love the way you smell, he’d said, as week by week, he was being more physical, more clingy. All citrusy. Reminds me of mandarins.

Euijoo wouldn’t do anything about it, just letting Nicholas invade his space. And that’s what he was doing right now, as he pressed his nails to keep his own thoughts from drifting to something negative.

Hours ago, Euijoo had seen them both vulnerable, bare, and they’d called themselves his in a way that felt like a quiet confession. But that was temporary. He hoped, at least, their friendship wasn’t. 

“Nico,” he called before he could stop himself, the need to know for sure egging him on. His voice was quiet under the television’s murmur, but they both turned to him. For a second, he hesitated, considered waving it off, but in the end, “are we still friends?”

Nicholas sat up fully, eyebrows furrowed. There was something almost dejected in his expression. “Is that what you want?”

Guilt creeped in, gnawing on the outline of his mind. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked; maybe he’d already asked for so much. Maybe they were humoring him until he got the hint and left. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

He opened his mouth, hoping a valid response would form itself and exit, but it didn’t. Of course it didn’t. All he could do, with both of their eyes on him, was shake his head. He couldn’t ask that of them, no matter how badly he wanted to. 

Nicholas completely removed himself from their bodies, and Euijoo bowed his head, blinking back the sting in them. Fuma scooted slightly, positioned his body toward the beta. Their knees brushed, and Fuma sighed before speaking.

“I don’t really wanna be friends with you, Euijoo,” he said. Euijoo squeezed his eyes, put his hands in his hoodie pocket to hide the trembling. He tried to focus on any sensation other than his heart growing heavier, his chest pulling tighter, and how common was it for 20-something’s to have heart attacks? It felt suffocating, constricting, needlessly cruel–

Fuma was still talking. Euijoo didn’t wanna hear it, but the alpha was still talking, and Euijoo wasn’t the type to walk away in the middle of a conversation.

“We’ve been thinking about it, and we both really care for you.”

Euijoo felt like he was waiting for the worst but of his life. With both of them pulled away from him, there wasn’t any warmth, any promises of safety. Euijoo only had his slowly breaking heart to cling to.

A pause, and he knew they were doing it again, communicating silently, leaving him out. Envy returned, a persistent old friend Euijoo foolishly thought he’d outran. He’d never wanted to leave a place so quickly, but he had no idea where his things were, and he was so cold, and his chest was so tight. When did his leg start bouncing? He ran a shaky hand through his hair, inhaled an even shakier breath. 

Silence, silence, and longer silence.

Then, 

“But,”

There it was, spoken quietly but no less blaring in Euijoo’s ears. He didn’t wanna know. He didn’t wanna hear it.

Nicholas picked up where Fuma left off. At some point, he’d stood up, clad in just loose boxer shorts as he wrung his hands. “We don’t wanna be just friends with you. We will, if that’s what you want. I think. No, I know. Well, honestly, I don’t know. If I can handle it much longer… The first few years were like, durable, but it’s getting– it’s like, I will, I’ll try. I just– I guess I thought–”

He only stopped because Fuma called out to him, held a hand out for Nicholas to settle down. The omega took a deep breath, weary eyes meeting Euijoo’s. “I thought, maybe, after all this, that you might– that you loved me back. The way I love you.”

Euijoo heard himself scoff, felt his face scrunch, because, well, that just made no fucking sense at all. Nicholas was the one that didn’t love Euijoo back. 

“What are you talking about?” He said, head shaking. 

“Euijoo,” Fuma called, placing a hand on Euijoo’s knee. Euijoo’s eyes darted to the contact, the cool feeling of Fuma’s hand on his skin. “Earlier, you asked why Nico and I haven’t started dating. I told you we were waiting.”

Euijoo nodded, waiting for this to become relevant. Fuma shared an unsure look with Nicholas before turning back to him. 

“On, well, you. Because we love you. And we think you love us as well, but it’s hard to tell.” He paused to scoff, a sad, pitiful sound. “You’re always so quick to leave. For a while, I wondered if you hated us and were just too kind to say it.”

The confessions flung through Euijoo’s head like boomerangs, back and forth, on full volume until he finally heard them. I love you. We’re in love with you.

He shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around the situation. The edges of a reality Euijoo had been forcing himself to accept peeled, crumbled, turned to dust. He’d been trying to keep the suffocating build-up of love hidden, but he never thought it was working. He thought they could see it, every lovesick emotion written on his face, how pathetic he was over the two of them.

They thought, instead, that he hated them? He’d never felt anything remotely similar.

Euijoo didn’t cry when Fuma and Nicholas started becoming more than friends. He didn’t cry when they spent his heat together, twice, even though he wanted to, because it was so agonizing, desiring two people so deeply and knowing they’d never love him back. Euijoo hasn’t genuinely sobbed in a little over a year, since this thing started. He’d been too afraid that if he fell apart, he’d never be able to tape himself back together. 

But now, with their confessions on loop in his mind, his shoulders slumped. The weight he’d become accustomed to lifted, gradually. The wave of pure relief that accompanied it bubbled in his throat, brought tears to his eyes. He brought his hands to his face and they pooled with salt water. He couldn’t stop the sobs once they started, and it hurt, almost. He could feel the threat of a migraine at his temples, the violent shaking of his body.

Nicholas loved him. Fuma loved him. They had been waiting, all this time, for Euijoo to love them back.

“How could I hate you?” He asked, words muttered through garbled words. “Fuck. I’m such a dumbass.”

Aggressively, memories of the past year flooded his mind. How many times they’d pulled him into whatever they were doing like it was second nature, had touched him and talked to him and looked at him with emotions bigger than friendly, platonic adoration in their eyes. How many times he’d convinced himself he was mistaken, delusional.

When Nicholas melted against him that morning, when Fuma admitted to wanting him to stay, they weren’t for lust or convenience. They weren’t cruel jokes. They had all been little confessions Euijoo was too insecure to see. It felt like the shadow of a dark cloud lifting from his eyes, the realization that he’d been so fucking stupid.

For a while, it was just him in the seemingly endless, guilty void of what he’d put himself through, what he’d put them through.

Then, a hand came to rest on his knees, another ran gently through his hair. Notes of cream and plum cleared the fog, the smell of them both coloring the void in pinks and purples.

“You’re never that, Juju,” spoken quietly, the familiar gentleness of Nicholas’ voice. Euijoo only responded with a pained noise, followed by a sniffle. His face was ruddy and covered in snot, and his hands were soaked, but he couldn’t pull them away. He didn’t want them to see him like this, as ridiculous as it was. They’d both seen him naked. They’d both seen him orgasm. Yet this – cathartic, pathetic sobbing – felt more humiliating.

But he lacked strength to fight when Nicholas tugged on his wrists, coaxing Euijoo to free his face. He was squatting in front of the beta now, with a sympathetic look in his eyes. It was Fuma’s hand in his hair, running blunt nails against his scalp as his sobs calmed down into quiet cries. The alpha's touch came down to wipe the tears off of Euijoo’s cheek, the action tilting the beta’s face up. Euijoo saw it then, when his eyes met Fuma’s – the look of pure adoration on the alpha’s face. It was unmistakable, and Euijoo wondered how he’d ever denied it in the first place. Nicholas was wearing a similar one, hands still holding Euijoo’s shaky, wet ones.

“For how long?” He felt himself ask, but it was quiet, mumbled. It was a wonder they heard him at all.

Nicholas shook his head, shrugged. “Few years,” he said, like it was the easiest truth. “I thought you knew; I told you before. I told you yesterday.”

Euijoo remembered, remembered the way it felt like being ripped clean open during the following orgasm, felt like an admission of defeat waiting for Nicholas to fall asleep to say it back. He’d convinced himself they meant it in different ways, just like he did whenever Nicholas said it, whenever Fuma did.

“As long as I’ve known you, pretty much,” the alpha spoke, aided by a half-hearted laugh. “You don’t even know what you do to people.”

Euijoo’s head shook, gaze falling to his lap, head heavy. “I thought…” He took a deep breath, ignored how shaky it came out. “I thought I was invading your space. I didn’t wanna overstay. I was so scared–” He stopped there, watching teardrops darken his hoodie.

“You could never,” Nicholas said. “I want you here all the time, as long as you wanna stay.” He cupped Euijoo’s cheeks in his hands, brought them eye level. It was instinct for Euijoo to follow the touch, hands holding the omega’s wrists like a lifeline. “I love you.”

“I love you, Euijoo,” Fuma said with a warm smile. There was a sense of finality in his tone that made Euijoo’s breath catch. He couldn’t deny it now, couldn’t convince himself otherwise. “We want you to be apart of every step forward.”

Euijoo still had so much he wanted to say, so many questions he wanted to ask.

In the end, he could only reciprocate through tears, repeating the words back to them until they lost form. 

He was shaking still, but he could barely feel himself quiver when they pulled him into an embrace, let him fall apart, and promised through sweet whispers to hold him together.

* * *

Euijoo had many memories of Nicholas’ bed. The way the omega’s scent clung to the sheets, when they used to do coursework on it together, when they’d have movie night and Euijoo always fell asleep halfway through. It was on the smaller side, so they’d began hanging on the couch more when Fuma came around. Still, there were memories of even the alpha on Nicholas' bed, of Nicholas painting his nails, of Fuma talking about his collection of figurines, of Euijoo just existing in that space with them.

This, however, was completely new, and somehow a position they continued to find themselves in like it was natural – Nicholas shaking in his hold, twitching into and away from his touch as Fuma fucked him with slow, forceful thrusts that knocked air from Nicholas’ lips in rhythm. When Nicholas trembled, whimpered broken please right against Euijoo’s lips, stared at Euijoo with wide, starry eyes as the beta guided him through it, well. Euijoo knew this memory would prove more prominent than any of the previous ones, the sacred moment where Euijoo, after long, cruel months of believing it would never happen, was here, apart of them fully, officially something more than a friend, officially a lover.

The heat broke the next morning, just like they predicted. Nicholas whined like he had before, tears sinking into his pillow as his body molded around Fuma’s knot one last time. 

Afterward, Nicholas wore this dazed, post-knot look that Euijoo had never seen before, the relief evident in the gradual freshness of his scent, the sugary notes ebbing out to make way for the fruity, creamy ones. They talked about everything and nothing as they waited for the knot to go down, unanimously agreeing to sleep now and rejoin the world later.

Euijoo let them doze off first, like he had before, finding that he enjoyed watching their expressions even out as they drifted. A part of him was still adjusting to it, still trying to believe it, but nothing hurt as much now, at least. The pain of the past year – which he’d began carrying around like a new organ, awkward but familiar – would ebb away with time.

Maybe Euijoo was using all of his life’s luck right now, secure beneath their arms. 

Still, if he was granted one more wish, it’d be that he would never hurt like that again.

 

epilogue.

Euijoo wasn’t particularly fond of this office. There was a constant stream of cold air puffing from the vents, keeping him too alert, too aware of his body. He ran fingertips across goosebumps as he stared through the television in the corner. So far, he hated this part the most – the waiting and waiting for the familiar outline of his name – Byun Euijoo – spoken through the voice of a worker.

Over the last few months of their relationship, Fuma and Nicholas had shared deep concerns about Euijoo’s anxious habits.

When they went to work and he was off, stuck alone in their shared apartment, trying to fight off the voices that said they’re never coming back. None of it was real. It couldn’t have been. When they came home and he was balled up under a messy collection of their scent-ridden clothes, face wet and ruddy. When they were sat on the couch, Euijoo’s favorite spot, and he was so focused on having a good time that he could never actually have a good time. When the thoughts pressed, and pressed, until Euijoo forgot even the most basic function: how to breathe.

It had all been a little concerning, they’d said. Fuma ended up suggesting a counselor, someone to talk to, and even if it didn’t help in the end, it’d be worth it to try. They’d both sat with him at the kitchen table as he scheduled the appointment.

Then two weeks went by, and here he was, waiting. Fuma had sent him off with encouraging words, but Euijoo still didn’t really want to be here. Fuma had been teaching him breathing exercises, ways to regulate himself when thoughts got too loud, too pressing. He used one now – 4 counts inhaled, 4 held, 4 exhaled – as he thought about Nicholas’ warm smile, about Fuma’s pretty eyes.

He was in the process of willing his legs not to bounce or carry him out of the clinic when a worker called him back. His eyes darted away from the television and found, instead, a kind smile waiting for him at the door.

The doctor’s tag read Koga. His office was an assortment of soft whites and sage green. He motioned for Euijoo to sit on a couch full of quirky pillows, and Euijoo did, pulling one into his lap.

He introduced his first name, Yudai, and asked a few standard, introductory questions – what Euijoo was hoping to gain out of counseling, if he ever felt in danger of harming himself or others. He typed Euijoo’s answers into his laptop, and when the quiz was seemingly over, he shut it, turning his full attention to the beta.

“Alright, Euijoo. Let’s talk a little bit about how you’re feeling right now, just to get us started.”

Against the soft pats of rain against the office window, Euijoo told him a lot – maybe too much for a starting session, but it felt good to get it all out. Yudai listened to it all attentively, empathetically, with no trace of judgement on his face.

“Rough year,” he commented, when Euijoo finally finished rambling, and the beta found himself huffing a laugh, the sincerity of it startling him slightly. 

It got easier, after that, and Yudai promised that they’d get even more comfortable with each other over time. The hour they’d reserved came to an end before Euijoo had known. Euijoo left the office with a lighter heart and another appointment scheduled, another two weeks to think over what he wanted to talk about next. 

It was still a bit intimidating, but Nicholas was waiting in the lobby when he got out. He pulled the beta into a warm hug immediately, and as Euijoo melted into it, he found himself agreeing with Fuma – maybe trying was worth it. If there was a version of Euijoo that could appreciate this moment louder than the voice telling him to, then surely, it was worth it.

Euijoo wouldn’t have to go through it alone, and maybe then, it wouldn’t be so difficult. He was taking the steps, at least, and Fuma had told him that that is what mattered. Euijoo believed him.

Notes:

if u made it this far, whoa!!! tysm for giving this story your time. it's my first long-form fic, and i know i have a long way to go in terms of characterization, pacing, repetition, etc. despite that, i never thought i could write a story this long, and to see it finished feels like a huge accomplishment for me. i hope you enjoyed, and i'd love to hear your thoughts! thank you, again. beta!euijoo, i hope you learn just how loved you are.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of you're not even mine