Archive of Our Own

Sunoo noticed the first missing hoodie on a Tuesday.

Actually, no, that wasn’t true.

He noticed the pile on a Tuesday.

The hoodie itself had probably disappeared days ago.

He stood frozen in the middle of his room, staring at the mess on his bed with widening eyes. Blankets were tangled together in a crooked heap against the wall, pillows shoved into an uneven circle. Hoodies and shirts were stuffed between them haphazardly, sleeves hanging off the mattress and pulling onto the floor.

His stomach dropped.

When had it gotten this bad?

Slowly, Sunoo climbed onto the bed and picked up a black hoodie from the pile. The fabric was soft with wear, warm from being buried beneath blankets. It smelled faintly like fabric softener and something deeper underneath, like clean soap, expensive cologne, and something distinctly alpha.

Heeseung’s.

Sunoo stared at it for a long moment before looking around again.

There were more.

A gray sweater that definitely belonged to Sunghoon. One of Riki’s oversized shirts. A zip-up he was almost positive Jay had worn yesterday.

“Oh my god,” Sunoo whispered to himself.

Had he taken all of these?

His heat was several days away, but he could already feel the instincts beginning to settle under his skin like static electricity, such as restlessness, the constant urge to surround himself with warmth and familiar scents, and the awful, embarrassing need to burrow into something comforting.

Usually he handled it better than this.

Usually.

Sunoo groaned softly and dropped face-first into the blankets.

This was pathetic. Not even a proper nest. Just… a pile.

A sad pile of stolen laundry.

He spent the next twenty minutes trying to reorganize everything so it looked less suspicious. He folded blankets, stacked hoodies, and straightened pillows.

It still looked ridiculous.

Worse, actually, like he was trying too hard to make it not look like a nest.

Sunoo buried his burning face in his hands.

If anyone found this, he would actually die.

The members were good about privacy. Nobody entered another person’s room without asking first. Still, every time footsteps passed his door, anxiety twisted painfully in his chest.

Especially later that evening when Heeseung wandered into the living room frowning slightly. “Has anyone seen my black hoodie?”

Sunoo nearly dropped his phone.

Across the couch, Jungwon barely looked up from where he was scrolling through something on his phone. “Which one?”

“The oversized one.”

“You have like fifty oversized black hoodies,” Riki complained from the floor.

“This one’s different.”

Sunoo stared fixedly at the television without processing anything on the screen. His ears felt hot.

His room. It’s in my room. Oh my god.

Heeseung sighed dramatically and started checking random places around the dorm. He checked the laundry room first, then the kitchen for some reason.

Sunoo blinked at him in confusion. Why would it be in the kitchen?

Eventually Heeseung shrugged. “Maybe I lost it somewhere.”

Sunoo exhaled quietly in relief.

Beside him, Jake offered him a tangerine with an easy smile. “You okay? You look nervous.”

“I’m fine,” Sunoo answered too quickly.

Jake hummed but didn’t push.

The next morning, Riki stomped down the hallway groaning loudly. “Where are my socks?!”

Sunoo froze mid-step.

“I’m serious,” Riki called. “They keep disappearing!”

“You lose your socks every week,” Jay said dryly from the kitchen.

“That’s different.”

Sunoo subtly turned and walked straight back into his room. The second he closed the door, his eyes landed on the corner of his nest. A pair of black socks peeked out from beneath one of the blankets.

Riki’s.

Sunoo stared at them in horror.

“I need to stop doing this,” he whispered weakly.

But even as he said it, he found himself kneeling beside the nest, smoothing out the blankets and adjusting the hoodies tucked around the pillows.

The scents helped. That was the problem.

The closer his heat crept, the more his instincts demanded comfort, familiarity, safety, and pack scent.

Even though he didn’t have a pack. Not really.

Sunoo swallowed thickly and pulled one of the hoodies closer without thinking. It was Sunghoon’s and the scent immediately eased something tight inside his chest.

A knock sounded suddenly at his door. Sunoo jolted so hard he nearly fell off the bed.

“Sunoo?”

It was Sunghoon.

“Y-Yeah?”

The door opened just enough for Sunghoon to lean in slightly. “We’re leaving in ten.”

“Okay.”

Sunghoon’s gaze flicked briefly around the room. Sunoo’s heart almost stopped. But Sunghoon only stepped farther inside and held out a jacket. “You forgot this in the van yesterday.”

Sunoo blinked. “Oh.”

It was Sunghoon’s skating jacket. He had definitely not forgotten that in the van.

“Keep it,” Sunghoon said casually. “You’re always cold anyway.”

Before Sunoo could answer, he was already gone. Sunoo looked down at the jacket slowly. It smelled like ice rinks and cold winter air and everything that made up Sunghoon.

Warmth curled low in his stomach.

“...Okay,” he mumbled quietly to the empty room.

A few days later, Jay started leaving hoodies everywhere. Over the back of chairs, folded on the couch, abandoned in practice rooms.

Sunoo noticed because they were nice hoodies, expensive ones. And every single time he passed one, his instincts screamed at him to take it.

By the third hoodie, Sunoo was beginning to suspect Jay was just weirdly forgetful, which honestly didn’t seem impossible.

Meanwhile, Jake and Jungwon, the only two members who actually liked doing laundry, had apparently changed detergents.

Sunoo only noticed because the clothes smelled stronger lately. The lingering scents lasted longer after laundry now, faint traces clinging to fabric and blankets even days later.

It made his room feel safer somehow.

Though maybe that was just his instincts talking again.

“You’re stealing all the blankets lately,” Jungwon commented one evening as Sunoo wrapped himself tightly in another hoodie.

Sunoo stiffened immediately. “I’m not stealing them.”

Jungwon blinked at him.

Then he smiled softly. “I know.”

The strange tension in Sunoo’s chest eased before he even understood why.

Later that night, while everyone was crowded together in the living room watching a movie, Riki tossed something at him without warning. Sunoo barely caught it.

“A hoodie?” he asked blankly.

“You looked cold.”

Riki had already turned back toward the television.

Sunoo stared at the oversized hoodie in his lap. “You’re weird,” he muttered.

Riki grinned lazily. “You love me.”

Sunoo rolled his eyes, but he still pulled the hoodie on over his shirt. The scent settled around him immediately, comforting, safe, and home.

His eyes nearly drifted shut right there on the couch.

By the end of the week, the nest had become impossible to ignore.

Sunoo stood beside his bed late one night, staring at the pile in growing confusion, because there were things in it that absolutely had not been there before.

Heeseung’s favorite black hoodie.

Jay’s expensive gray sweatshirt.

And--

Sunoo picked up another familiar skating jacket slowly.

Sunghoon’s.

There was no way. No way he’d stolen all of these without remembering.

Especially not this one. Sunghoon actually liked this jacket.

Sunoo sat slowly on the edge of the bed, surrounded by blankets and soft lingering scents.

Confusion tugged at him, but beneath it was something warmer, something comforting enough that his instincts quieted almost immediately.

Maybe…

Maybe he really had taken them and forgotten.

His heat always made him fuzzy eventually.

That had to be it. It had to.

Sunoo curled carefully into the middle of the nest, pulling the blankets tighter around himself. The scents wrapped around him instantly, alpha and beta alike, familiar and calming.

His body relaxed for the first time in days.

Eyes slipping shut, Sunoo pressed his face into the sleeve of Heeseung’s hoodie and sighed softly.

Maybe I took them and forgot.

Outside the room, the hallway lights were dim. A figure paused quietly at Sunoo’s closed door.

For a moment, they simply listened to the silence inside.

Then, carefully, another hoodie was folded neatly beside the doorway before the figure walked away without a sound.

___________________________

By the time Sunoo returned to the dorm, he felt hollowed out.

His heat always left him exhausted afterward, but this one had been worse than usual. Maybe because he’d spent most of it curled alone in a rented room with cheap suppressants and barely any sleep. Maybe because he’d cried halfway through from sheer loneliness and then felt stupid about it afterward.

Either way, every step down the dorm hallway felt heavier than the last.

His body ached, his throat was dry from dehydration, and beneath all of it sat the terrible, gnawing emptiness that always followed a heat spent alone.

Sunoo adjusted the hood of his sweatshirt lower over his face before punching in the dorm code quietly.

The dorm was warm when he stepped inside, warm enough that his eyes nearly stung.

“Sunoo’s back,” Jungwon called immediately from somewhere deeper in the apartment.

A second later, heads started appearing.

Riki practically launched himself off the couch. “You were gone forever.”

“It was three days.”

“That’s forever.”

Sunoo smiled weakly despite himself.

Jake appeared next, taking one look at him before his expression softened almost imperceptibly. “You okay?”

“Just tired,” Sunoo answered automatically now.

It was a practiced response by now. Nobody questioned it anymore, which was good, because if they ever realized his “monthly sickness” happened with suspicious regularity--

“You should sit down,” Jay interrupted from the kitchen.

Sunoo blinked. “I’m fine--”

“Sit.”

The smell of soup, warm rice, and something savory simmering softly on the stove hit him before he even fully entered the kitchen.

Sunoo stared. “You cooked?”

Jay shrugged one shoulder like it wasn’t a big deal. “I was hungry.”

That was probably true. Jay cooked when he was stressed, tired, bored, or awake for too long. The kitchen was his space.

Still, when Sunoo sat at the table a few minutes later, every dish placed in front of him was suspiciously perfect. Light broth, soft rice, easy-to-eat side dishes. Comfort food.

His favorites.

Sunoo swallowed hard around the sudden tightness in his throat.

“You don’t have to stare at it like it insulted you,” Jay said dryly.

“I’m not staring.”

“You are.”

Sunoo huffed quietly and picked up his spoon. The first bite nearly made him melt into the chair. Warmth spread through his chest slowly, easing some of the awful weakness from his body.

Across from him, Jay pretended to scroll through his phone. But every few minutes, his eyes flicked upward briefly, checking whether Sunoo was eating enough, whether his hands were shaking, whether he looked too tired to keep sitting upright.

Sunoo noticed none of it consciously. He only noticed that Jay refilled his water before it was empty and pushed another bowl of rice toward him before he could ask.

“You should eat more,” Jay muttered.

“I already ate.”

“You barely touched the rice.”

“You sound like my mom.”

“That’s because your mom is smart.”

Sunoo rolled his eyes, but he still ate another spoonful.

By the time he finished eating, his eyelids felt heavy. Heat crashes always hit hardest afterward. The exhaustion settled deep into his bones, dragging at him until even thinking felt difficult.

“I’m going to sleep for a year,” he mumbled.

“You can sleep after skincare.”

Sunoo blinked slowly. “...What?”

Jake appeared beside him with terrifying determination. “Come on.”

Jungwon was already carrying products from the bathroom.

Sunoo narrowed his eyes weakly. “No.”

“Yes,” Jungwon replied immediately.

“I just got home.”

“Exactly,” Jake said brightly. “Your skin is dehydrated.”

Sunoo tried to protest again, but Jake had already grabbed his wrist gently and started pulling him toward the living room.

“You’re both bullies.”

“We know.”

Twenty minutes later, Sunoo found himself trapped between the two betas on the couch with a face mask on and a blanket tucked around his legs.

He should have been embarrassed. Instead, he was dangerously close to falling asleep.

Jungwon sat beside him carefully drying his damp hair with a towel while Jake focused intently on rubbing lotion into Sunoo’s hands.

The soft scents surrounding them were faint compared to the overwhelming intensity of the alphas. Their scents were always comforting, gentle, and safe.

Without realizing it, Sunoo slowly relaxed deeper into the couch cushions.

“See?” Jake said smugly. “You needed this.”

Sunoo made a sleepy noise of disagreement.

“You’re literally falling asleep.”

“I’m resting my eyes.”

Jungwon snorted quietly.

The warmth around him felt unbearable in the best way. After days spent alone during his heat, isolated and touch-starved and aching with instincts he could never properly satisfy, this felt almost overwhelming.

His chest hurt strangely.

Maybe they just missed me, Sunoo thought hazily.

That had to be it.

Jake leaned over suddenly to fix the edge of Sunoo’s face mask before it slipped. The casual touch nearly made Sunoo melt into the couch entirely.

“You’re clingy after being sick,” Jake teased lightly.

Sunoo opened one eye. “You’re clingy all the time.”

“That’s true.”

Nobody mentioned the way Sunoo drifted closer until his shoulder rested against Jake’s side. Nobody pointed out how relaxed he became once Jungwon started running careful fingers through his hair to dry it.

The living room remained quiet and warm around him, feeling utterly safe.

By evening, Heeseung returned carrying several shopping bags.

“You went out?” Sunoo asked from where he was curled under a blanket.

Heeseung glanced toward him immediately, expression softening. “Yeah.”

Then he started unpacking the bags onto the counter.

Sunoo blinked slowly. There were snacks, vitamin drinks, his favorite chips, sweet bread from the bakery near the dorm, and hot packs.

“You bought half the convenience store,” Sunoo said.

Heeseung shrugged. “You like this stuff.”

That was true.

Sunoo watched him pull out electrolyte drinks, iron-rich snack bars, and the exact vitamin jelly packs Sunoo always bought after getting sick.

Something warm unfurled quietly in his chest.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

Heeseung looked pleased enough by the quiet gratitude that Sunoo almost got embarrassed.

Later, when everyone scattered around the dorm for the evening, Riki appeared in Sunoo’s doorway holding two controllers.

“Games,” he announced.

Sunoo groaned dramatically. “I’m too tired.”

“You can lose while sitting down.”

“That’s rude.”

“It’s true.”

Despite his complaining, Sunoo still followed him into the living room.

Hours passed slowly after that. Riki kept him distracted with loud arguments over games and increasingly dramatic cheating accusations.

Every time Sunoo got too quiet, Riki immediately shoved another game into his hands. Every time his thoughts started drifting somewhere darker, toward the loneliness of his heat, toward the awful emptiness afterward, Riki dragged his attention back.

Sunoo assumed he was just energetic.

He didn’t realize Riki was carefully watching for every moment his expression dimmed.

By the time midnight crept past, most of the dorm had gone quiet.

Jay disappeared to his room first, then Jungwon, then Jake after forcing everyone to drink water first. Riki eventually got distracted by his phone and wandered off too, leaving Sunoo and Sunghoon alone on the couch.

The television played quietly in the background. Sunoo sat tucked beneath a blanket, warm and sleepy and emotionally raw in the strange way he always felt after his heats.

Sunghoon sat beside him silently, scrolling through something on his phone. Comfortable silence settled between them.

Then, without really meaning to, Sunoo started talking. At first it was small things, such as a movie he wanted to watch or a cafe he’d seen online. Then somehow it turned into his favorite childhood snacks, then places he wanted to travel someday, then random thoughts that barely made sense.

Sunghoon listened to all of it without interrupting once. Occasionally he hummed softly in acknowledgment. That was enough encouragement for Sunoo to keep going.

Words poured out of him lazily, exhaustion making him loose and honest.

“I think I’d like to live somewhere colder someday,” Sunoo murmured sleepily. “Not forever. Just for a little while.”

Sunghoon glanced over. “You hate the cold.”

“I know.”

“Then why?”

Sunoo thought about it seriously. “...Snow feels quiet.”

Sunghoon’s expression softened slightly.

Sunoo kept talking about movies, music, the shape of clouds he’d seen earlier that week. Completely random things.

At some point, his head started drooping. He barely noticed himself leaning sideways until warm solid weight pressed against his shoulder.

Sunghoon went perfectly still beside him and Sunoo blinked sleepily.

Oh.

His head was resting against Sunghoon’s shoulder.

Embarrassment flickered weakly through him, and even though this wasn’t the first time they’d been like this, he still said, “Sorry.”

Sunghoon didn’t move away. “It’s fine.” His voice stayed very careful, very quiet, like he was afraid moving too suddenly might scare Sunoo away.

The warmth beneath Sunoo’s cheek felt comforting enough that his eyes drifted shut again almost immediately.

He vaguely heard footsteps and someone lowering the TV volume. Then a blanket was pulled more securely around him and soft voices murmured somewhere nearby, but he was too exhausted to fully wake up.

For the first time in years, the emptiness after his heat didn’t feel quite so vulnerable.

Wrapped in warmth and familiar scents and the quiet presences of the people he loved most, Sunoo drifted toward sleep slowly.

He still didn’t understand why they always took such good care of him afterward.

But as sleep pulled him under, curled safely among his members in the living room, Sunoo realized something softly aching in his chest had finally stopped hurting quite so much.

And for the first time after a heat, he didn’t feel alone.

________________________

By noon, Sunoo knew the scent patches were failing.

The cheap ones always did.

The expensive suppressing patches he normally used worked almost perfectly, strong enough to bury every trace of omega scent beneath sterile neutrality. They lasted all day, didn’t irritate his skin, and kept people from looking at him too closely.

Except he didn’t have any expensive patches left. He ran out yesterday and couldn’t afford to get more for at least another week.

The cheap replacements were awful. The adhesive itched constantly against the side of his neck, the suppressant wore unevenly, and worst of all, they never fully masked his scent.

By the time practice started that morning, Sunoo already felt wrong in his own skin. Too warm, too aware, too exposed.

“Again from the top!”

The music restarted and Sunoo forced himself to focus.

Dance. Smile. Breathe normally. Don’t panic.

But every time someone stepped too close, tension crawled down his spine.

An alpha manager lingered near him for half a second too long while handing the boys water. One of the backup dangers paused briefly beside him, nose wrinkling faintly. Even passing staff members seemed to glance at him longer than usual.

Sunoo told himself he was imagining it. He had to be imagining it.

Still, when practice finally paused for a break, relief crashed through him hard enough to make his knees weak.

“I’m getting water,” he muttered quickly before anyone could stop him.

Nobody questioned it.

Sunoo escaped the practice room as calmly as possible, but the second the door closed behind him, he exhaled shakily.

The company hallways were quieter here, dimmer and safe. At least, safer than a room packed full of alphas.

Sunoo rubbed tiredly at the edge of the patch hidden beneath his collar.

His fingers came away damp.

Damn it.

The patch was burning off faster because he was anxious, which made him more anxious, which made his scent stronger.

It was a vicious cycle.

He swallowed hard and ducked into the stairwell, letting the heavy door swing shut behind him. Cool air hit his face immediately.

For a few precious seconds, Sunoo simply stood there breathing, trying to calm down, trying to force his instincts back under control.

You’re fine. Nobody knows. Nobody’s going to--

The stairwell door below him slammed open and voices drifted upward.

Alphas.

Sunoo froze instantly.

“...telling you, I smelled it.”

A second voice laughed softly. “You’re imagining things.”

“No, seriously.”

Footsteps echoed against concrete stairs, getting closer.

Sunoo’s pulse started pounding.

“There’s definitely an omega nearby.”

His stomach dropped violently.

The second alpha went quiet for a moment. Then, “...Wait.”

Silence.

Sunoo stopped breathing.

“You smell that?”

The first alpha laughed under his breath. “Told you.”

Their footsteps slowed, not leaving, searching.

Cold panic spread through Sunoo’s chest. The patch on his neck burned and his scent spiked sharply from fear.

“Oh, they’re definitely here,” one of them murmured.

The other snorted softly. “An omega in this building? That’d be insane.”

“Maybe a staff member.”

“Or somebody’s guest.”

“Lucky bastard, whoever gets to them first.”

The casualness of it made Sunoo feel sick. Their voices weren’t loud or dramatic. That was what made it terrifying.

Like this was normal. Like talking about hunting down an omega was just another conversation.

The footsteps started climbing again, closer.

Sunoo backed up instinctively until his shoulders hit the wall behind him. His breathing turned shallow.

If they found him, if they realized--

One of the alphas spoke again, voice lower now. “Bet they’d smell really good on their knees.”

Something inside Sunoo lurched violently. His scent surged again and the alpha nearest the stairs paused immediately. “Oh shit,” he said softly. “Closer.”

Panic hit Sunoo all at once, too sharp and too overwhelming. His hands started trembling. The patch was barely working anymore. He could feel it failing.

They were going to find him. They were actually going to find him.

The stairwell door above him burst open and Sunoo flinched violently.

A dark coat landed over his shoulder before he could react and warmth surrounded him instantly. He was quickly enveloped by an alpha scent, strong enough to drown out his own, safe and familiar.

Sunoo looked up in shock. Heeseung stood directly in front of him, Sunghoon beside him.

Both of them looked furious. The kind of fury that felt dangerous.

Heeseung stepped slightly forward without hesitation, placing himself between Sunoo and the approaching alphas instinctively. Protectively.

Sunghoon’s gaze locked onto the trainees below them, because they really were just trainees weren’t they? Sunghoon’s glare was sharp enough to cut.

The two young alphas stopped immediately and the atmosphere shifted all at once. Because now the stairwell smelled overwhelmingly like dominant alpha instead of frightened omega.

One trainee cleared his throat awkwardly. “We were just leaving.”

Neither Heeseung nor Sunghoon answered. They simply stared.

The silence stretched painfully. Then the trainees muttered something under their breath and disappeared back downstairs quickly.

The stairwell door slammed shut behind them. Only then did Sunoo realize he was shaking.

The coat around his shoulders smelled intensely like Heeseung, not in a just worn way, but scented deliberately.

The realization made his stomach twist.

Sunghoon was still watching the door like he expected the other alphas to come back.

Heeseung finally turned toward Sunoo slowly and his expression softened instantly. “Hey.”

Sunoo opened his mouth and nothing came out. His pulse still hammered painfully beneath his skin. The fear hadn’t faded completely yet. It lingered in his chest like something poisonous.

Heeseung reached up carefully and adjusted the coat more securely around Sunoo’s shoulders. The movement was gentle enough to make something ache sharply inside him.

“You okay?” Heeseung asked quietly.

Sunoo nodded automatically.

A lie.

He felt awful. He felt exposed, terrified, and beneath all of it was something else now. Confusion. Because--

The coat.

Their timing.

The way Heeseung had stepped in front of him without hesitation.

The way Sunghoon’s expression had turned murderous the second he smelled fear and omega scent together.

Pack instincts.

Protective alpha instincts.

Sunoo’s thoughts spiraled violently.

Do they know?

The possibility hit him so hard he almost felt dizzy.

But how?

He’d been careful. So careful.

Years of suppressants and scent patches and pretending and hiding and lying--

There was no way they could know.

…Right?

Sunghoon finally looked away from the stairwell door and toward Sunoo.

“You shouldn’t be alone right now,” he said quietly.

The words sent another wave of confusion through him.

Not you shouldn’t wander off.

Not you scared us.

You shouldn’t be alone.

Like Sunoo was something vulnerable, something that needed protecting.

Heat crawled painfully up his neck.

“I’m okay,” he said weakly.

Neither of them looked convinced. Heeseung’s eyes lingered briefly on the edge of the failing patch visible beneath Sunoo’s collar before flicking away again quickly enough that Sunoo almost missed it.

Almost.

Fear twisted sharply in his stomach.

He definitely noticed.

The realization should have terrified him more than it did.

Instead, standing there wrapped in Heeseung’s coat while Sunghoon blocked the stairwell exit like a guard dog, Sunoo felt something unfamiliar creeping in beneath the panic.

Safety.

It made no sense.

It absolutely shouldn’t have.

But the scent surrounding him calmed his instincts almost immediately, easing the frantic terror clawing at his chest.

Heeseung’s voice softened further. “You’re okay now.”

Simple words. Quiet words. But something in Sunoo’s chest loosened anyway.

And what scared him most was how immediately, how completely he believed him.

_______________________

Something felt wrong from the moment they arrived at the award show.

Sunoo tried to ignore it.

He smiled for the cameras, accepted touch-ups from stylists, and laughed at Riki’s complaints about the schedule.

But beneath all of it, anxiety coiled tighter and tighter in his chest.

There were too many people, too many scents, too many alphas.

The backstage hallways were crowded with idols, managers, security, stylists, camera staff, later after layer of overlapping scents pressing against Sunoo’s senses until he felt suffocated by them.

And worst of all, his scent patches were failing again.

He could feel it.

The suppressant burned sharply against the side of his neck beneath his makeup. Every few minutes, heat prickled beneath his skin warningly, like the patch was struggling to keep up.

Sunoo kept subtly adjusting his collar, trying not to panic, trying not to think about the stairwell incident from weeks ago. Because ever since then, every lingering glance from an alpha made fear spike coldly through him. Every pause, every inhale, every slight narrowing of eyes made him feel hunted.

“You okay?”

Sunoo startled slightly. Heeseung stood beside him, watching carefully.

“I’m fine,” Sunoo answered automatically.

Heeseung didn’t look convinced. For a moment, it seemed like he wanted to say something else.

Instead, he just reached over quietly and fixed Sunoo’s crooked collar. The motion covered the edge of the patch more securely.

Sunoo’s breath caught.

Heeseung stepped back immediately afterward like he hadn’t noticed.

“Come on,” he said lightly. “We’re moving.”

Sunoo nodded quickly and followed.

The award show blurred together after that in a flurry of bright lights, applause, interviews, and crowded waiting areas.

Every second stretched Sunoo thinner.

By the time they returned backstage after one of their stages, he could barely breathe properly.

His instincts screamed at him that something was wrong, that he was too exposed and too vulnerable.

He just needed a second alone.

“I’ll be back,” Sunoo muttered quietly as the members got pulled into conversation with staff nearby.

Jungwon glanced toward him immediately. “Where are you going?”

“Bathroom.”

Jungwon hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Text if you need us.”

The wording felt strangely deliberate.

Sunoo pushed the thought away quickly.

He slipped through the crowded hallway, keeping his head down. He just needed a few minutes alone to calm down.

A sharp sting suddenly tore across his neck and Sunoo froze.

No.

No, no, no.

Warmth spread beneath the patch, then the scent suppressant failed completely. The release of scent hit instantly, like a dam breaking.

Omega scent flooded the hallway all at once, sweet and overwhelming and unmistakable.

Silence crashed over the space around him and heads turned immediately. Every alpha nearby went still.

Sunoo’s blood ran cold.

Someone inhaled sharply. “Oh--”

Panic slammed into him violently. Sunoo jerked backward, hands flying instinctively to his neck like he could somehow stop the scent spilling into the air.

No, no, no, no--

An alpha standing near the hallway entrance locked onto him immediately. The alpha’s eyes widened, then darkened.

Sunoo turned and walked away as fast as he could without outright running.

Maybe if he could just get somewhere private--

Footsteps followed fast.

Sunoo’s pulse skyrocketed. He rounded the corner sharply and a hand caught his wrist before he could make it another step.

Sunoo gasped.

The alpha pulled him hard enough to stop him completely, shoving him backward against the wall.

“Hey,” the alpha said quietly. Too quietly, too calm.

Sunoo’s entire body locked up. The alpha’s grip tightened around his wrist as he stared at him, at his face, at his scent patch, at his panic.

“You smell like an omega.”

Sunoo couldn’t breathe. “I- I think you’re mistaken--”

“Don’t lie.”

The words weren’t shouted. That somehow made them worse.

The alpha stepped closer. Sunoo could smell his scent now, sharp alpha dominance pressing aggressively into the air around them.

His instincts recoiled violently.

“You know what happens if people find you, right?” the alpha murmured.

Sunoo froze completely.

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” the alpha continued. “But you should really be more careful.”

His free hand brushed the edge of Sunoo’s collar and Sunoo flinched hard.

The alpha smiled slightly. “There you go,” he said softly. “That’s definitely omega behavior.”

Fear crashed through Sunoo so hard his vision blurred.

This is it.

The thought hit him with horrifying clarity.

This is the moment everything falls apart.

The alpha leaned closer. “You should come with me somewhere quieter.”

Sunoo’s stomach turned violently.

“No,” he whispered.

The alpha’s expression changed instantly. Not rage, but annoyance, like Sunoo had inconvenienced him.

“I’m trying to help you,” he said flatly.

His grip tightened painfully and panic exploded through Sunoo’s chest.

Then suddenly, the alpha disappeared.

A fist connected with his face hard enough to send him sprawling sideways into the wall before collapsing to the floor.

Sunoo stared blankly.

Heeseung stood over the fallen alpha breathing hard.

For one terrible second, Sunoo barely recognized him. Not because Heeseung looked unfamiliar, but because Sunoo had never seen him look genuinely enraged before. His expression was ice-cold.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Heeseung said quietly.

The alpha groaned weakly on the floor, held down by the veritable flood of murderous pheromones Heeseung was pumping out.

The other members appeared beside Sunoo almost immediately.

“Sunoo.”

Jay’s gentle hands pulled him away from the wall carefully.

Sunoo stumbled and his knees nearly gave out. Jay caught him instantly.

“Hey,” Jay said softly, voice completely different from the lethal expression still fixed toward the other alpha. “Look at me.”

Sunoo couldn’t. Everything felt distant suddenly, too loud, too bright.

The hallway exploded into movement around them.

Jake appeared next, immediately checking Sunoo’s wrists and neck for injuries with shaking hands. “Did he hurt you?”

Sunoo stared at him blankly.

Sunghoon moved in front of them, physically blocking the growing crowd of staring staff and idols from seeing Sunoo clearly.

“Back up,” he snapped sharply.

Jungwon was already on the phone with security.

“He was cornered backstage,” Jungwon said coldly into the receiver. “I want this solved now.”

Riki looked furious enough to kill someone.

“What happened?” he demanded.

Sunoo couldn’t answer.

The members moved around him with terrifying efficiency, like they’d rehearsed this, like they’d always been waiting for the possibility of this exact moment.

The realization barely had time to settle before something inside Sunoo broke completely.

By the time they got him into their dressing room, he was barely conscious of his surroundings.

The door locked behind them and the room fell silent.

And then Sunoo broke.

It happened instantly.

One moment he was standing, the next his legs gave out beneath him. Something caught him before he hit the floor, Heeseung, maybe, but Sunoo barely registered it.

A horrible sour scent flooded the room, sharp enough to sting. His scent turned rotten in seconds, omega instincts spiraling into pure survival mode.

A drop.

All omegas were taught about them.

It was a worst case scenario caused by extreme fear and distress, the omega body making itself as unappealing as possible to protect itself.

Everything inside him collapsed inward. His thoughts slowed strangely and the room felt far away. Voices echoed around him distantly.

“Sunoo--”

“Oh god.”

“He’s dropping!”

The despair hit the room instantly. Every member went rigid, because pack bonds reacted violently to an omega drop.

Sunoo didn’t know that. He only knew that suddenly everyone around him sounded devastated, like they were hurting too.

His body trembled uncontrollably. He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t speak and could barely breathe.

Hopelessness settled over him like something crushing.

It would never get better. Everything was ruined. Everyone knew now.

Heeseung lowered carefully to the floor with Sunoo still held tightly against his chest.

“It’s okay,” Heeseung whispered shakily.

Sunoo couldn’t respond. The sour scent thickened further.

Riki made a distressed noise somewhere nearby. “Hyung--”

“Blankets,” Jungwon said immediately.

Lights dimmed. Someone closed the curtains. The room shifted rapidly into something softer and quieter. Safe.

The members moved instinctively, like they’d always known what to do, because things like these were hardwired into pack biology. They had to make sure their omega was comfortable before they could even think of bringing him up from the drop.

Jake grabbed water bottles and soft clothes from bags nearby. Jungwon brought the room temperature up slightly and started carefully removing anything overwhelming from the space. Jay knelt beside Sunoo with trembling hands, gently adjusting blankets around him.

Meanwhile, the other alpha members crowded close immediately, not overwhelming, but careful and protective.

Heeseung gently scented along Sunoo’s hairline. Sunghoon scented the blankets. Riki curled close enough that his scent wrapped around the edges of the nest they were instinctively building around Sunoo on the floor.

“Sunoo,” Heeseung whispered desperately. “You’re safe.”

The words barely reached him through the haze.

Sunoo stared blankly at the floor. His body still shook violently. Then slowly, through the fog, understanding hit him.

The way they were reacting. The way they knew exactly what to do. The scenting. The comfort. The despair in their faces.

Only a pack would respond like this. Only packmates wouldn’t be repelled by drop scent.

And a pack couldn’t form around an omega unless the other pack members had wholly accepted him as an omega.

They knew. They knew and they had to have known for far longer than today.

The realization slammed into him hard enough to make the drop worsen instantly.

A broken sound escaped his throat.

No.

No no no--

He tried weakly to pull away.

Heeseung immediately tightened his hold carefully. “Hey, hey-- it’s okay.”

They knew.

Years.

Years of hiding and suppressants and lies and fear and they knew.

Sunoo’s chest caved inward.

They were going to reject him now that he’d proven he was useless as an omega. Everything would change now.

His scent soured further in panic.

“Sunoo,” Sunghoon said softly, kneeling close. “Look at me.”

Sunoo couldn’t. He couldn’t bear to.

“You know,” he whispered hoarsely.

Silence.

Then, “Yes,” Jungwon answered quietly.

No denial, no hesitation, just honesty.

Sunoo felt something inside him shatter. His eyes burned painfully.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out immediately.

The words horrified every single member in the room.

Heeseung looked stricken. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I lied,” Sunoo whispered brokenly. “I lied to all of you and-- and I know omegas are complicated and I know it caused problems and--”

“Sunuoo.” Jake’s voice cracked sharply.

Sunoo flinched.

Jake looked devastated. “Don’t say it like that.”

Sunoo’s breathing hitched painfully. Then suddenly arms wrapped tighter around him from multiple sides at once, enveloping him in warmth, scent, and safety. Not rejection. Never rejection.

“You idiot,” Riki muttered thickly. “Did you seriously think we’d care?”

Sunoo stared at him blankly. “But you knew and you never told me,” he whispered.

Another silence settled over the room, soft this time, exhausted.

Then Heeseung sighed shakily against Sunoo’s hair. “I found your nest during I-Land,” he admitted quietly.

Sunoo went completely still. “What?”

Heeseung laughed weakly once. “You didn’t hide it very well.”

Mortification flickered faintly through the drop.

“I accidentally walked in while looking for you,” Heeseung continued softly. “I realized immediately what it was.”

Sunoo’s throat tightened painfully. “That long ago…?”

Heeseung nodded. “I made a promise that day to keep your secret.”

Something inside Sunoo cracked wide open. Heeseung had known for so long. Not just after debut, not recently, since I-Land. Since before everything.

He had never actually been alone.

Sunghoon spoke next quietly. “I found out after we debuted.”

Sunoo looked toward him weakly.

“I accidentally opened one of your packages,” Sunghoon admitted. “The industrial scent patches. I knew because only omegas use those.”

Sunoo covered his face immediately in humiliation. “I’m never recovering from this.”

Very faintly, someone laughed, wet and shaky.

Jungwon shifted closer beside him. “Jake and I figured it out relatively at the same time.”

“You have omega habits,” Jake said gently when Sunoo looked horrified again. “Small things like nesting behaviors and scenting objects without realizing it. You also get really territorial when your heat is coming.”

“We both grew up around omegas,” Jungwon added softly. “It was obvious.”

Jay rubbed tiredly at his face. “Sunghoon accidentally told me.”

“I did not accidentally--”

“You absolutely did.”

Despite everything, the familiar bickering softened the room slightly.

Riki shrugged from where he sat curled near Sunoo’s side. “I didn’t really know.”

Everyone looked at him.

Riki frowned. “What? I suspected, but I never actually knew.”

“How?” Sunoo asked weakly.

Riki blinked like the answer was obvious. “I presented early and you were the only one there.”

The room went quiet.

“Only an omega can trigger an alpha’s presentation early,” Riki said slowly. “So…”

Sunoo stared at him. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Silence settled over the room again afterward, not uncomfortable, just tired and emotional.

Sunoo sat cocooned in blankets and pack scent and warmth, still trembling faintly from the remains of the drop.

But the despair had started easing, slowly and painfully, because nobody looked disgusted. Nobody looked trapped. Nobody regretted knowing.

If anything, they looked heartbroken that he’d been afraid this entire time.

Heeseung brushed gentle fingers through Sunoo’s hair carefully. “You should’ve told us,” he whispered.

Sunoo’s vision blurred suddenly. “I was scared,” he admitted quietly.

The words hurt coming out. Years of fear packed into one sentence.

The room went devastatingly silent.

Then Jay moved closer and pressed his forehead lightly against Sunoo’s temple. “So were we,” he admitted softly.

Sunoo blinked.

“We didn’t want you to think we saw you differently,” Jay continued quietly. “So we pretended not to know.”

Jungwon nodded slightly. “We thought… if you wanted to tell us eventually, you would.”

“But until then,” Jake whispered, “we just wanted you safe.”

That broke him completely. Sunoo started crying so suddenly he startled himself. They weren’t quiet or graceful tears.

Years of fear and loneliness and exhaustion collapsed out of him all at once.

Immediately the members crowded closer, all warm hands, soft voices, and comforting scent everywhere. No rejection, no anger, just love. Just his pack.

And curled there in the middle of them, surrounded by people who had apparently been protecting him all along, Sunoo cried harder than he ever had in his life, because for the first time since presenting as an omega, he finally understood something unbelievable.

He was safe.

_______________________

The first thing Sunoo noticed when he woke up was scent.

Warm alpha scent clinging to blankets and soft traces of beta scent woven through hoodies piled around him. It was comforting and safe.

For one disorienting moment, he simply lay there blinking slowly at the ceiling, still half asleep.

Then memory crashed back all at once.

The award show. The hallway. The drop.

They know.

Sunoo’s breath caught sharply. Instinctively, he curled tighter into the blankets around him. The movement made something slide off his shoulder.

A hoodie.

Heeseung’s, judging by the scent.

Another was tucked beneath his head. One of Sunghoon’s jackets had somehow ended up draped over the back of the couch beside him.

The realization made warmth creep up Sunoo’s neck immediately.

This time, he knew it was intentional. Not accidental, not imagined, intentional.

The living room was quiet in the pale morning light. Someone had apparently stayed with him through the night. There was another blanket bundled carelessly beside the couch and an abandoned phone charger hanging over the armrest.

Sunoo swallowed thickly. His chest hurt strangely. Not painful, just full.

Footsteps padded softly down the hallway and Sunoo stiffened automatically.

Then Heeseung appeared carrying two mugs. The second he noticed Sunoo awake, his expression softened immediately. “Oh good. You’re up.”

Sunoo sat up slowly, blanket still clutched tightly around himself. Something nervous twisted painfully in his stomach.

This was usually the part where things changed. Where people became awkward, careful, or distant.

Because now they knew.

But Heeseung simply walked over and handed him one of the mugs.

Tea. Exactly the kind Sunoo liked after being sick.

“How are you feeling?” Heeseung asked quietly.

Sunoo stared down into the cup.

“Better,” he answered honestly.

Heeseung nodded once like that was enough, no weirdness, no discomfort, just concern.

The silence stretched softly between them. Sunoo kept waiting for something to feel different. For Heeseung to look at him strangely. For hesitation. Regret.

Instead, Heeseung sat down beside him naturally enough that their shoulders bumped lightly.

Sunoo blinked.

“You’re thinking too hard again,” Heeseung murmured.

Sunoo looked down immediately. “Sorry.”

Heeseung frowned slightly. “Why are you apologizing for everything?”

Because I’m complicated, Sunoo almost said.

Because omegas were problems.

Because every instinct in him still whispered that eventually this would become too much for them.

Instead, he just wrapped both hands tighter around the mug.

Heeseung watched him quietly for a moment. Then he said, “Do you want me to scent your room?”

Sunoo froze completely. His head snapped up so fast he nearly spilled tea everywhere.

Heeseung looked suddenly embarrassed himself, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Only if you want,” he added quickly. “I just thought it might help after…” He gestured vaguely.

After the drop. After years of hiding. After everything.

Sunoo stared at him silently. The question itself hit harder than anything else had so far, not because it was shocking, but because it was gentle, careful, like Heeseung genuinely wanted Sunoo comfortable, like it mattered.

Emotion climbed painfully into Sunoo’s throat. He looked away immediately before he embarrassed himself by crying at eight in the morning.

“...Okay,” he whispered.

Heeseung’s expression softened so much it almost hurt to look at.

“Okay,” he echoed quietly.

By lunchtime, the dorm kitchen had turned into a disaster zone.

Jay stood at the stove looking deeply offended by a recipe on his phone.

“This article constantly contradicts itself,” he muttered.

Sunoo blinked from where he sat at the counter. “What are you doing?”

Jay didn’t even look up. “Research.”

“That’s terrifying.”

“It should be.”

Sunoo leaned slightly to see the screen.

The title read Traditional nutritional recipes for omegas recovering from stress and suppressant overuse.

Sunoo nearly choked. “Hyung.”

Jay finally looked at him, completely unashamed.

“You’ve been overusing suppressants for years,” he said bluntly. “You’re probably deficient in like twelve things.”

Sunoo stared at him in horror. “You can’t just say that to people.”

Jay glanced at the food then back at Sunoo. “You asked.”

“I did not.”

Jay ignored him completely and returned to cooking. But this time, there was no pretending. No secret adjustments, no hidden concern. Now Jay openly shoved vitamin-heavy foods at him while muttering things like “Eat your iron,” with the exhausted tone of someone who looked more like a mother of six than a strong protective alpha.

It should have been embarrassing.

Instead, warmth spread quietly through Sunoo’s chest every single time.

Especially because Jay kept researching omega-safe supplements, foods helpful after heats, and better suppressant alternatives openly, like caring for Sunoo was the most natural thing in the world.

The others weren’t any better, or worse, depending on how Sunoo looked at it.

Jake started saying the word “pack” constantly, doing so casually and effortlessly every time.

“Our pack should order dinner.”

“We should keep extra blankets for the pack room.”

“Pack movie night?”

Every single time, Sunoo’s heart stuttered painfully. Because Jake said it so naturally, like Sunoo belonged there without question. Like there had never been any doubt.

The first time Sunoo visibly reacted to it, Jake blinked in confusion. “What?”

“You keep saying that,” Sunoo said.

“Saying what?” Jake looked genuinely confused.

“Pack.”

Jake’s expression softened instantly. “Well,” he said simply, “that’s what we are.”

Sunoo had to look away again before he cried.

Unfortunately for his dignity, everyone kept doing things like that.

Jungwon was somehow the scariest about it.

Sunoo walked into the living room one evening to find Jungwon surrounded by notes. Actual notes on paper.

“What is all this?” he asked, a little apprehensive.

Without looking up, Jungwon answered calmly, “Emergency planning.”

Sunoo stared. “...Emergency planning.”

“Mhm.”

There were lists, schedules, backup suppressant brands, heat-safe hotel locations, emergency contact information.

Sunoo’s eyes widened slowly. “You made a spreadsheet.”

Jungwon finally looked up. “Obviously.”

“That’s concerning, Wonnie.”

“You nearly dropped hard enough to need hospitalization,” Jungwon replied flatly. “I’m being proactive.”

Sunoo opened his mouth and closed it again soon after because the terrifying part was that Jungwon sounded completely reasonable.

“There should always be backup scent patches in the dorm now,” Jungwon continued. “And if your heat schedule changes, you need to tell at least one of us immediately.”

Sunoo stared at him helplessly. “You really thought this through.”

Jungwon looked genuinely confused by the statement. “Of course I did.”

Like there was no other option. Like Sunoo being protected was simply a given.

The realization settled heavily and warmly in Sunoo’s chest.

Riki remained personally offended about the entire situation.

Not the omega thing. No, Sunoo being an omega was about as interesting to Riki as actually doing work, which was very little.

He was offended about the hiding it thing.

“You seriously thought we wouldn’t accept you?” Riki demanded for maybe the fifth time that week.

Sunoo, trapped beneath a blanket on the couch beside him, groaned softly. “Riki--”

“No, explain it to me.”

“You’re being dramatic, Riki.”

“You thought I would reject you!”

“You scream at me over games.”

“That’s different!”

Sunoo snorted despite himself, because Riki looked genuinely distressed, and while usually Riki’s distress would make Sunoo panic, he looked like a puppy right then.

“I literally presented early because of you,” he complained. “That’s basically fate or whatever.”

Sunoo laughed weakly. “That’s not how biology works.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I absolutely do.”

Riki crossed his arms stubbornly before suddenly leaning sideways until most of the weight pressed dramatically against Sunoo.

“You’re stupid,” he muttered.

The insult lacked any real heat.

Sunoo blinked slowly, then very carefully leaned back. Riki immediately relaxed further against him like a satisfied cat.

“You’re clingy,” Sunoo informed him quietly. “Are we sure I’m the omega here?”

Riki grinned. “You like it.”

Unfortunately, Sunoo did.

The worst part was that everyone seemed happier now that the secret was gone. They were lighter, relieved. Like they’d all been holding their breath for years.

Sunoo still didn’t entirely understand how to handle that. Some part of him kept waiting for the discomfort to appear eventually, for reality to settle in.

Because omegas complicated things. Omega idols especially.

It wasn’t supposed to be this easy.

That lingering fear followed him quietly for days. Until one evening, Sunoo found Sunghoon alone in the practice room after everyone else had already left.

The room was quiet except for faint music still playing from someone’s abandoned phone. Most likely Riki’s, as he tended to forget his whenever his hyungs offered to buy him food.

Sunoo sat down beside Sunghoon tiredly. Neither spoke for a while.

Then softly, Sunoo asked, “Do things feel weird now?”

The question escaped before Sunoo could stop it.

Sunghoon looked over immediately. “Weird?”

“Since you found out.”

Sunghoon frowned slightly. “We didn’t just find out.”

Right.

Sunoo stared down at his hands. “I know.”

Silence settled briefly.

Then Sunghoon sighed quietly. “You really thought we’d leave?”

The question hurt.

Because yes.

Part of him always had.

Sunoo didn’t answer. Apparently that was answer enough.

Sunghoon shifted slightly closer beside him. Then, very gently, he reached over and tugged at the sleeve of Sunoo’s hoodie.

“You know,” he said quietly, “nothing changed for us.”

Sunoo looked up slowly.

Sunghoon held his gaze steadily. “You’ve always been ours.”

The words hit Sunoo so hard he stopped breathing. They weren’t possessive or controlling. They were belonging. Pack.

Home.

Something inside his chest cracked painfully open.

Because suddenly, everything made sense. The cooking. The blankets. The quiet protection. The way they always circled around him instinctively after heats.

Every lonely moment he thought he’d survived by himself, he hadn’t actually been alone at all.

They had been there the entire time, waiting carefully at the edges of his fear, protecting him in every silent way they knew how.

And sitting there beside Sunghoon in the quiet practice room, warmth spreading painfully through his chest, Sunoo realized something that almost made him cry all over again.

For years, he’d thought he was surviving alone.

But somehow, without him ever realizing it, he’d already had a pack.

________________________

The first sign was the bag.

Or rather, the lack of one.

Usually, a few days before his heat, Sunoo packed quietly. Extra suppressants, comfort clothes, chargers, water bottles.

Then he disappeared for several days under the excuse of being sick again.

Nobody ever stopped him. Nobody ever questioned it.

So when Heeseung walked past Sunoo’s room three days before his heat and noticed the complete absence of a packed duffel bag sitting by the door, he stopped walking for half a second, then continued down the hallway without saying anything.

But somehow, the entire atmosphere of the dorm changed after that.

Riki became even clingier than usual. Jake smiled constantly. Jungwon started checking inventory in the cabinets with terrifying focus. Jay began cooking enough food for an army. Sunghoon started quietly scenting everything Sunoo owned. And Heeseung looked quietly happy every single time he glanced toward Sunoo.

It made warmth bloom embarrassingly in Sunoo’s chest.

Nobody commented on the fact that he was staying. Not directly.

But Sunoo noticed the way the others unconsciously hovered closer around him over the next few days, protective and excited and a little bit nervous, like they were trying very hard not to scare him away from the decision.

The strangest part was that Sunoo wasn’t scared. Nervous, maybe. A little emotional. But not scared.

For the first time in years, the approach of his heat didn’t feel like a countdown to isolation.

It felt like… coming home.

Which was probably why he found himself standing in the middle of the living room one evening asking, very quietly, “Can I borrow your clothes for my nest?”

Silence. Then all six members looked up at him at once.

Sunoo immediately regretted asking.

“You’re all being weird,” he muttered.

“No,” Heeseung said quickly.

“Yes,” Jungwon corrected. “We definitely are.”

Riki looked moments away from vibrating out of his chair.

“Take mine,” he said immediately, already trying to pull his hoodie over his head.

Sunoo raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re literally wearing it.”

“And?”

Sunoo snorted softly despite himself.

“Here.” Heeseung tossed him a worn black hoodie without hesitation. It was warm and heavy with the alpha’s scent.

Sunoo caught it automatically. The comfort hit instantly. This time, instead of shame twisting through his chest, something softer settled there.

Belonging.

“Thanks,” he murmured quietly.

Sunghoon stood a few minutes later and disappeared down the hallway. When he came back, he dropped two sweaters beside Sunoo on the couch.

“These are softer,” he explained simply.

Sunoo touched the fabric. They were ridiculously soft, actually.

“You spoil him too much,” Jay muttered from the kitchen.

“As if you don’t. You brought him three different snacks within the span of ten minutes,” Jake pointed out.

“That’s different.”

“It’s literally not.”

Sunoo curled deeper into the couch cushions, trying unsuccessfully to hide his smile.

By the next day, nesting instincts hit fully.

Only this time, Sunoo didn’t fight them. He didn’t hide them or wait until everyone was asleep to quietly steal hoodies and drag blankets into his room.

Instead, he shamelessly walked into the living room, grabbed two blankets covered in all the members’ scents, and disappeared down the hallway without explanation.

Riki watched him go with wide eyes.

“...That’s so cute,” he whispered emotionally.

Sunoo yelled, “I can still hear you!” from his room.

Unfortunately, that only made Riki more delighted.

Building his nest openly felt strangely surreal.

Sunoo sat cross-legged in the middle of his bed surrounded by blankets, pillows, hoodies, and shirts while soft music played quietly from his phone.

Only now, instead of frantically trying to make the nest look less suspicious, he arranged everything carefully. Making it comfortable exactly how his instincts wanted.

He tucked pillows into a loose circle, layered blankets until the middle felt warm and soft, and buried hoodies near where his head would rest.

A quiet knock sounded at his open door.

Sunoo looked up. Heeseung stood there holding another armful of clothes. “Can I come in?” he asked softly.

Sunoo hesitated for only a second before nodding.

Heeseung stepped carefully into the room and set the clothes beside the nest. The entire space already smelled overwhelmingly like pack now. It was comforting, safe, and warm.

Heeseung looked around quietly, then smiled. “It looks nice.”

Sunoo nearly combusted on the spot. “It’s messy.”

“It’s your nest. If messy is comfortable for you, then that’s all that matters,” Heeseung corrected gently.

The simple acceptance of it made Sunoo’s throat tighten unexpectedly.

Later, everyone contributed somehow.

Sunghoon brought another sweater because “this fabric is softer for sleeping.”

Jay appeared carrying snacks and electrolyte drinks before setting them neatly beside the bed.

“You need to actually eat during this heat,” he informed Sunoo sternly.

“Yes, Eomma.”

“Don’t start.”

Jake and Jungwon helped reorganize the room so nothing sharp or uncomfortable sat near the nest.

“More pillows,” Jake declared.

“There are already too many pillows,” Sunoo argued weakly.

“There’s no such thing.”

Meanwhile, Jungwon quietly checked that Sunoo had suppressant backups, water bottles, medicine, and clean clothes.

“You’re terrifyingly prepared,” Sunoo muttered.

Jungwon didn’t even look ashamed. “Correct.”

Riki contributed by carrying in an alarming amount of plushies.

Sunoo stared at the pile in disbelief. “Why do you own this many stuffed animals?”

Riki gasped. “Don’t judge me.”

“I’m absolutely judging you.”

“You’ll appreciate them during your heat.”

“...Okay, maybe some of them are cute.”

“Victory.”

By the time evening settled over the dorm, Sunoo’s room looked undeniably like a proper omega nest.

And for the first time in his life, he felt no shame about it. Only warmth. Only comfort. Only the overwhelming safety of pack scent wrapped around him from every direction.

The next few days mirrored the gentle care from previous heats.

Only now, Sunoo understood.

When Jake and Jungwon dragged him into another skincare session, he realized they were grounding him intentionally.

When Jay made all his favorite foods, he understood he was trying to keep Sunoo healthy and comforted.

When Heeseung quietly draped a freshly worn hoodie over the edge of the nest, Sunoo knew exactly what it meant.

And instead of pretending he didn’t need it, he let himself lean into the care openly.

That was the strangest part.

Allowing himself to need things. Allowing himself to want comfort. Allowing himself to be an omega without apologizing for it.

The night before his heat officially started, the dorm settled into soft domestic chaos.

Blankets scented by the alpha were folded carefully near Sunoo’s nest. Water bottles and electrolyte drinks sat lined up on the bedside table. Jay packed the mini fridge with comfort food. Movies were queued up in the living room for before things fully hit. Fresh clothes waited folded neatly at the edge of the bed.

No one complained. No one acted burdened.

If anything, the members seemed content simply knowing Sunoo would be here with them, safe.

Eventually, the first sharp wave of heat rolled through Sunoo’s body warningly.

Instinct immediately flared warm beneath his skin.

It was time.

The room had gone quieter somehow.

The members watched him carefully without hovering too close, giving him space and giving him choice.

Sunoo stood slowly from the couch. “I should go settle in before it fully starts,” he mumbled.

Heeseung nodded immediately. “Okay.”

“Text if you need anything,” Jungwon added.

“We’re right outside,” Jake reminded softly.

Riki looked one second away from asking if he could build a pillow fort outside Sunoo’s door. Sunghoon physically stopped him before he could speak.

Sunoo laughed quietly under his breath, then he paused in the hallway before entering his room.

The dorm smelled warm, like food, laundry, and familiar scents. Like safety and pack. His pack.

Emotion swelled painfully in his chest.

For years, he had dreaded this part. Dreaded what being an omega meant. What it could cost him. How alone it made him feel.

But now, standing there wrapped in the quiet care of people who had loved him long before he ever realized it, Sunoo finally understood something unbelievable.

He wasn’t trapped by being an omega.

He was loved because he was theirs.

Sunoo stepped into his room slowly, warmth curling through him as the scent of his pack surrounded the nest waiting inside.

Then, softly smiling to himself, he closed the door.

Sunoo had spent so long believing his secret would cost him everything.

Instead, it had led him here, wrapped safely in the care of a pack that had loved him all along.