Chapter Text
“Hey, Hyung. What’s special for your eighteenth birthday this week?” Namjoon hums, lying on his stomach on Seokjin’s bed, a novel in his hands.
Seokjin sighs, leaning back against the headboard as he plays on his console. “I don’t know. My parents are probably planning to invite half the nobility and turn it into some grand charity event.” He lifts a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug.
“Hmm. Makes sense. So nothing special?” Namjoon wiggles his brows.
Seokjin narrows his eyes at him. “What does that mean?”
Namjoon smirks. “You presented as an Alpha. So maybe they’ll find an Omega for you?” he asks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Seokjin rolls his eyes and waves his hand dismissively. “Nah, I don’t need their help. I can find one by myself.”
Namjoon scoffs. “You can barely maintain eye contact with anyone without turning into a tomato,” he chortles, dodging the pillow Seokjin throws at him.
“Shut up. I’m not like that,” Seokjin mutters. “I’ll show you. Just wait.” He glares at him.
“Let’s see,” Namjoon says with a wink, snickering.
Seokjin huffs, forcing his attention back to his console, even though his mind drifts to the Omega.
His Omega.
A blush creeps across his cheeks. He wills himself to think of something else—but he loses the game. Groaning, he drops the console and flops face-first into the pillow beside him.
“Joonie, I hate you,” he mumbles into it, ears still burning.
Seokjin looks at himself in the mirror one last time, adjusting his necklace even though it doesn’t need any more adjusting. The stylist had already done their work and left twenty minutes ago. It’s just his nerves making him feel queasy.
It’s not like his parents haven’t thrown a party for his birthday before, but this time it’s bigger than he expected. And he isn’t used to being around so many people.
Just then his mother enters the room with a bright smile. “My Jinnie is getting more handsome day by day.” She comes to stand behind him, looking at him through the mirror, and gives his shoulders a soft squeeze, her smile fond.
Seokjin gives her a genuine smile. “Thanks to your genes, Mom.” He winks, making her giggle.
She squeezes his cheek and presses a kiss to it. “My baby has gotten so big,” she coos.
He snorts. “But I’ll always be your baby.”
“Right,” she giggles. “And now I have to tell you something.” Her tone turns serious. “A secret,” she whispers near his ear.
Seokjin turns to look at her, eyebrows raised, head tilting slightly in question.
“Your betrothed is also invited to tonight’s party,” she says with a wide smile.
Seokjin sputters. “M-My what?!”
She winces at his shrill voice, her smile softening. “Yes, baby. We thought we would surprise you on your eighteenth birthday with this news, so—”
“Mom, wait. Are you serious?!” he nearly shouts again, unable to contain himself.
“Yes,” she says in a smaller voice, like she already regrets keeping it from him.
Seokjin presses his lips into a thin line and looks away, swallowing the lump in his throat.
“Jinnie…” his mother reaches out to touch his arm.
“You chose for me,” he mumbles, pulling his arm away, a sob almost slipping out.
“Your grandmother promised her best friend—”
“My grandmother?” he scoffs. “I don’t even remember her. And she set me up with someone I’ve never even seen…”
“Jinnie, she loved you a lot.”
He ignores her words.
“Besides…” He swallows, jaw tightening. “Did he present already?”
She opens her mouth, then closes it, shaking her head.
“Then will you let me marry him if he doesn’t turn out to be an Omega?” he challenges.
His mother bites her lip, eyes glassy, unable to respond.
He sighs. “It’s okay, Mom. We’ll see. Maybe I’m just overreacting because of the sudden secret reveal.” He lets out a half-hearted laugh and squeezes her hand before walking out of the room, ignoring her calling his name.
It’s only past seven in the evening, and he already feels like his social battery has drained completely. He feels dizzy and overwhelmed.
He needs to get away.
“Joon, I’m uh—I need—”
Namjoon looks at him for a second before nodding. “Go get some air, Hyung.” He smiles, dimples showing, and pats his shoulder. “Or maybe you need some chocolate,” he adds with a smirk, winking.
Seokjin bites his lip to hide his smile. “You know me well,” he giggles before drifting over to the tables piled with different varieties of cuisine, where there aren’t many guests.
He spots a table filled only with chocolate dishes and grins, his mouth already watering.
He cuts a piece of cake and places it on his plate, adding some cookies and truffles alongside it.
He brings the plate close to his nose and inhales, smiling in satisfaction. Just as he’s about to turn around, his elbow hits something—or rather, someone.
They cry out in pain in unison.
He turns, ready to scold the person for not having eyes, but immediately brings a hand to his mouth, trying—and failing—to stifle his laugh.
A boy, whose head barely reaches his shoulder, has bubblegum splattered across half his face. He’s glaring at him.
Seokjin coughs, trying to hide his laughter—but it dies down when he notices that some of the bubblegum is also stuck to his blazer. His elbow.
His very white, very new blazer.
“Asshole,” the boy mutters through gritted teeth.
Seokjin frowns, raising a brow. “Excuse me?”
The boy stomps off toward the washroom. Seokjin follows him.
The boy rushes to the sink, trying to wash the bubblegum off his face. Seokjin stands beside him, glaring the entire time.
Once done, the boy dabs his face dry with a handkerchief, muttering curses about how Seokjin ruined his makeup.
Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Well, now clean this,” he says, practically shoving his elbow in front of him.
The boy swats his arm away. “You hit me with your elbow, and now I should clean it?” His voice cracks slightly, like it’s still in the process of changing.
Seokjin almost laughs—but stops himself.
The boy narrows his eyes at him. Before he can say anything, Seokjin puts on his best poker face and retorts, “You were behind me. It’s not my fault you don’t have eyes.”
The boy gapes, then snaps his mouth shut. He steps forward, closing the distance between them until his face is barely an inch away from Seokjin’s.
“I. Have. Eyes,” he says, each word pressed firmly, his wide gaze locking onto Seokjin’s.
Seokjin’s breath hitches.
His eyes—
He forgets how to breathe.
Beautiful.
From this close, he notices everything—thick, long lashes, a mole in his eye, another just beneath his lower lid, one on his cheek, one on his nose…
His gaze drops to his lips.
Seokjin swallows.
The boy huffs, frustrated, pulling him out of his thoughts. He mutters something under his breath as he grabs Seokjin by the sleeve and drags him toward the sink.
He scrubs at the sleeve carefully, taking off the bubblegum, scraping the remnants away with his nails.
His hands are beautiful too.
Seokjin wonders how much time God must have taken to create this piece of art in front of him.
His gaze drifts back to the boy’s face.
His lips are drawn into a pout—cute. Brows furrowed in concentration.
“Who are you?” Seokjin blurts out.
The boy looks up at him, Seokjin’s sleeve still in his hands.
Oh God, those eyes.
Seokjin is sure he has never seen eyes this beautiful in all his eighteen years of life.
“Why do you care?” the boy says flatly, before going back to his task, clearly not amused.
Seokjin presses his lips into a thin line and sighs. “Maybe because it’s my birthday party?” he shoots back.
The boy’s hands pause on his sleeve.
For a second, Seokjin thinks he sees a faint pink dusting his cheeks.
“Ah,” he mumbles, avoiding eye contact. “There.” He pats Seokjin’s elbow lightly. “Clean as before,” he adds under his breath, before practically bolting out of the washroom.
Seokjin is left staring at the spot where the boy stood just a second ago.
What just happened?
He shakes his head, washes his hands, and walks out of the washroom.
He heads back to the table where his plate sits untouched. He smiles, licking his lips as he picks it up, looking for a quiet place to devour his dessert.
There are people everywhere.
So he slips out into the garden, where it’s calm—only the sounds of insects and the rustling of leaves filling the air.
He decides to go to his favourite fountain and enjoy his dessert there. He hums a tune as he makes his way over.
He stops a few feet away when he spots a figure sitting on the edge of the basin.
He squints, trying to make out who it is.
Then he steps closer.
A familiar figure.
With quiet steps, he moves to sit beside him without sparing him a glance.
A few moments pass. The boy doesn’t acknowledge his presence.
Seokjin breaks the silence.
“Hey, Bubblegum. Want some chocolate?” he asks, nudging the plate slightly toward him on the basin.
The boy glares at him, then looks down at the plate. He licks his lips, swallowing, before looking back at Seokjin.
“It’s okay if you don’t want it,” Seokjin shrugs, picking the plate back up.
“Hey!” the boy exclaims, grabbing for it—or rather, grabbing Seokjin’s hands along with it.
Before Seokjin can process the butterflies blooming in his stomach at the contact, the boy snatches two truffles and pops them into his mouth, his cheeks puffing out like a squirrel.
Oh, Seokjin is so fucked.
He clears his throat and pulls the plate out of his grip, moving it to his other side, feigning annoyance. “That’s enough. Go get your own,” he mutters, taking a bite of cake with his fork.
The boy pouts.
Then, without warning, he closes the distance, pressing himself against Seokjin’s side, grabs the remaining piece of cake, and shoves it into his mouth, giggling around it as Seokjin gapes at him.
“You—” Seokjin gasps. He grabs his face with one hand, fingers pressing into his cheeks. “Give it back to me!” he demands.
The boy’s eyes glint under the moonlight.
“Take it if you dare,” he manages, even with his mouth full and Seokjin’s fingers squishing his cheeks.
Seokjin’s gaze drops to his lips.
His heart stutters.
Then—
Water splashes across his face.
He jerks back with a gasp, pushing himself off the basin as the boy wheezes with laughter, clutching his stomach, trying to swallow the cake.
Before he can even wipe his tears of mirth, Seokjin splashes water back at him, earning a startled squeal.
“You jerk!” the boy shrieks, splashing him again.
When Seokjin moves to splash him once more, the boy grabs his arms.
Seokjin twists, trying to pull free. The back of the boy’s knee hits the basin—
He stumbles.
And falls into the fountain.
Before Seokjin can register what’s happening, he’s going down with him. He instinctively reaches out, cradling the back of the boy’s head as they crash into the basin, water splashing over the edges.
The boy’s arms tighten around Seokjin’s nape.
As Seokjin pulls himself up to sit, the boy comes up with him. They surface together, gasping for air, his face so close to Seokjin’s that they’re practically breathing each other in.
The boy squeezes his eyes shut as water from the fountain above sprinkles over his face.
His hair is plastered to his forehead, droplets clinging to his lashes, some trailing down the curve of his face and neck. His lips part slightly as he tries to catch his breath.
Seokjin feels enchanted.
The spell breaks when a voice calls out, “Oppa!”
The boy’s eyes snap open. He blinks rapidly, gasping, before pulling himself up—one hand gripping Seokjin’s shoulder, the other bracing against the edge of the basin.
“Sejeong, here!” he calls back, waving at her.
The girl rushes over as soon as she spots him. She gasps, taking in his state.
“Oppa, what happened—” Her words cut off when she notices Seokjin still sitting inside the fountain.
She gasps again and bows quickly.
“Oppa, look at yourself. Eomma is going to kill you!” she mutters, glaring at him as she grabs his arm and starts dragging him away.
Seokjin exhales a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
He reaches for the last remaining cookie on the plate and stuffs it into his mouth in one bite.
He sighs.
Maybe he needs help—for falling in love within an hour... and not even knowing his name or how old he is.
He snorts.
Yeah.
He is definitely fucked.
He slips into the manor through the back door, making sure not to get caught by his mother or anyone else. He makes his way to his room and slips inside.
He shrugs off his blazer and shirt, letting them fall into a damp pile on the floor. Just as he reaches to undo his pants, the bathroom door clicks open.
He squeaks, startled, immediately covering his torso with his hands.
His jaw nearly hits the floor.
The boy—Bubblegum—is in his room. In his fucking clothes, too big for his tiny frame, slipping off one of his shoulders. On top of that, wrapped in his fucking scent.
What the hell. Sure.
His scent spikes, a low sound rumbling in his chest before he can stop it.
“You’re staring,” the boy mutters.
“So are you,” he shoots back with a smirk.
Seokjin doesn’t miss the faint pink spreading across his cheeks. Something in his chest settles, oddly pleased with the reaction.
“Well then stop flashing,” the boy retorts.
Seokjin sputters. “You’re in my room, wearing my clothes!”
“Do you want me to undress?” he asks, raising a brow.
Seokjin chokes on his own words, heat rushing up his neck, across his face—everywhere. Nothing comes out.
This jerk just made him walk right into his own trap.
Fuck.
The boy shrugs and walks past him, deliberately bumping their shoulders.
Seokjin clenches his jaw, nails digging into his palm to keep himself grounded.
When the door clicks shut, he finally exhales, shoulders sagging as the tension drains out of him.
Frustration bubbles up instead.
He kicks the pile of wet clothes on the floor with a huff, glaring at it like it personally offended him.
Groaning, he picks it up, heads to the bathroom, and dumps it into the clothes bin.