Chapter Text
Yoongi watched the news with pursed lips. Even as the anchor spoke plainly, he couldn’t help his eyes scanning over the headline scrolling across the bottom of the television to confirm.
As he took the words in, realizing that it was not, in fact, a joke, he felt a heavy weight settle in his chest. His first thought was of his pack- of Taehyung, specifically, the only unmated omega among them. He took a drink of water, swallowing around the lump in his throat as his mind raced through the possibilities.
A registry. A fucking national registry.
But not only that, a newly formed government committee to place unmated omegas into ‘suitable households’.
His stomach churned, Seokjin’s well-cooked dinner no longer sitting right within him. He was angry- furious at the audacity of it all. The encroachments on omega autonomy were grotesque on the best of days- the collars to prevent unwanted mattings instead of simply punishing wolves that would force such a thing on anyone was disgusting enough. But now this-
He clicked off the television, feeling a headache coming on. He felt restless, his wolf even more so as the implications of everything began to click into place. Taehyung could be taken from them- would be taken from them if they couldn’t find a way to fix this. They needed to fix it. The very thought of having anyone taken from the pack – especially one of their omegas, had Yoongi’s alpha awakening, a Herculean force needed to prevent his eyes from bleeding red and shifting right there and then in the living room.
Offhandedly, he wondered if Namjoon had seen the news; if he was just as distressed over the situation as he was. Yoongi startled as his phone rang on the couch beside him. Probably the pack leader in question.
It was only as he was sliding his thumb across the phone to answer the call that the name onscreen finally registered. Taehyung.
“Hello-”
“Hyung. Did you see?” Taehyung spoke before Yoongi could finish his sentence. His voice was shaky, his words thick and rushed as though he had been crying. Yoongi was out of his seat in seconds.
It was unexpected, Taehyung’s call, but no less alarming as his heart pounded in his chest, a primal urge to be there and protect running through him like a pulse. He would have expected Taehyung to reach out to Jimin first, or even Namjoon if it was an alpha’s reassurance that he needed- but the call was a welcome one, Yoongi needing to hear Taehyung’s voice just as much as Taehyung apparently needed to hear his.
“I did,” he responded measuredly, trying to keep his voice calm for Taehyung’s sake. “Are you okay?”
Yoongi closed his eyes, clearly a stupid question.
“No,” Taehyung said, a tinge of genuine brokenness to his voice as he failed to point out how obvious of an answer it was. “Hyung I’m so fucking scared.”
Yoongi’s fingers clenched tightly around the phone as he paced, frantic and desperate from his inability to be there, holding Taehyung, protecting him.
Scared, scared, scared.
One of the pack omegas was scared. He needed to do something.
He forced himself to stop, standing rooted in the center of the room as he clenched his eyes shut tightly. Knee-jerk alpha instincts wouldn’t help him here, his frustration over his inability to physically comfort Taehyung would do nothing but further exacerbate his panic, an omega’s instinct to soothe an alpha in distress just a prominent as an alpha’s need to soothe theirs.
Blinking through the red haze of his vision he forced himself to focus.
“I know baby,” he soothed, the endearment dropping from his lips thoughtlessly. “But it’ll be okay. Hyung will make it okay.”
He didn’t know how, but he put as much conviction in his voice as he could. He might not know how, but he would protect Taehyung. No matter what.
“Alpha” Taehyung pleaded- plaintiff as he begged for something he couldn’t quite put words to.
“Where are you right now?” Yoongi asked. His skin prickled all over, a distressing unrest beneath the surface as his wolf clawed to get out. He swallowed thickly, forcing his feet forward and into his room.
Placing his phone on speaker, he shrugged into a sweatshirt and pair of pants as he waited for Taehyung’s answer to come across the line.
“The apartment. Jimin’s out in Busan with Jungkook visiting family, and the other hyungs are at the farmer’s market.”
Ah, so that explained why Yoongi had been the one he had called. It didn’t bother him, being the seeming last choice. They were a pack, and whoever Taehyung went to mattered little so long as they were all able to protect one another.
He nodded, pulling on a pair of mismatched socks as he grabbed his phone and headed back into the living room.
“I’m coming over,” he said decisively, snatching his keys and wallet from the entryway table with one hand as he struggled to pull on his shoes with the other, his phone balanced precariously on his shoulder.
He half expected Taehyung to tell him to stay, the omega not in the business of inconveniencing others even in moments of distress – regardless of the fact that it was of no inconvenience to the pack. Instead, his next words surprised Yoongi.
His voice was small as he spoke, breakable in the way that had Yoongi wanting to desperately put it back together. To make it alright. “Please hurry.”
“I’m on my way,” Yoongi said, barely remembering to lock up behind himself as he flew from the apartment.
The drive to Taehyung’s apartment took far, far too long. Each traffic light seemed like a personal affront, intentional in their desire to forestall his arrival as long as possible. His fingers tapped anxiously along the wheel; curses muttered under his breath as he debated whether it would have been faster to simply run there.
The whole affair of pulling into the parking lot, parking, shutting off the car, and racing to Taehyung’s apartment – up four flights of stairs because the elevator was too slow – took far longer than it should have. But what choice did he have when one of the pack was in distress? By the time he stopped in front of Taehyung’s door, he was panting, his chest tight and adrenaline pumping as he took a second to compose himself, not wanting to upset Taehyung any further than necessary.
He took a shaky breath, in and out slowly as Jin had so often instructed him to do. His firm knock on the door resounded loudly in the quiet of the hallway, his breath held tightly in his lungs as he waited painstakingly for Taehyung to open the door.
The sight he was met with broke his heart.
Taehyung stood there looking as devastated as he had sounded on the phone. His shoulders were slumped, his body caved in on itself as if to shield him from the outside. Long, curly bangs fell in front of dark eyes, attempting and failing to hide his tear-streaked face, pink nose, and red-rimmed eyes. Yoongi’s heart clenched. He was wearing a large sweatshirt and a pair of silk boxers. The hoodie that nearly dwarfed his frame looked suspiciously like one of Yoongi’s that had gone missing months ago, and it warmed the alpha to think that Taehyung drowned himself in his clothes when he needed to calm down.
“I’ll return it,” Taehyung mumbled, rubbing the frayed cuff of the right sleeve between his thumb and forefinger absently as he looked at Yoongi through watery eyes.
Yoongi shook his head before Taehyung had finished, liking the idea of the omega wearing his things perhaps more than he should, his chest puffing slightly with pride.
Tugging on the sleeve, he pulled Taehyung forward and directly into his chest. He wrapped his arms around the younger man tightly, holding him close and sighing as Taehyung sank into the embrace without hesitation.
“Keep it,” he murmured into the crown of Taehyung’s hair, soft strands tickling against his lips. “Please.”
Taehyung sighed against him, trembling in Yoongi’s arms as he nuzzled his face into the crook of Yoongi’s neck, running his nose back and forth along his scent gland in an attempt to bring himself some semblance of comfort.
Yoongi was aware that they were still standing in the hallway, but he let Taehyung take what he needed from his scent, running his fingers gently through his hair as Taehyung struggled not to shake apart in his arms.
“Sorry,” Taehyung sniffed as he pulled away at last. Yoongi could feel an uncomfortable wet patch in the juncture of his neck and shoulder. The salty trickle of tears along his throat was a discomfort, but one he would readily and happily ignore as long as it meant being there for Taehyung.
He shrugged. “Do you want to go inside now?” he asked instead, smiling softly as Taehyung took his hand in his own. He squeezed back gently.
“Right, sorry, yeah,” Taehyung muttered.
It was a familiar routine stepping into Taehyung’s apartment and toeing his shoes off on the ornate entryway carpet. A gift from Namjoon years ago and which Taehyung took meticulous care of. He set his keys and wallet aside on the entry table, careful not to move Taehyung’s day collar where it rested near the table’s edge.
He was secretly relieved that Taehyung wasn’t wearing it, happy he could have undiluted access to his scent. His fingers twitched at his sides, wanting to pull Taehyung back to him, to run his hand along the back of his neck and drown him in his scent- anything to know that Taehyung was safe. And he was, as safe as he could be in his own home with one of the pack alphas beside him. Still, it didn’t make the knowledge of just how quickly their worlds would soon be turned upside down any less prominent in his mind.
Taehyung’s neck was red near his pulse point, as though he had constantly been tugging on his collar- one of his few nervous habits developed over the years. Even though the collars were specifically measured to not restrict airways, it didn’t make the requirement of wearing them - of their very presence- any less suffocating.
Taehyung settled them on the couch. The space between them was near non-existent as their bodies aligned from shoulder to thigh in the center of the large sofa. It was sweet, Taehyung trying to resist his desire to completely smother Yoongi in a two-man puppy pile, but unnecessary.
“C’mere,” Yoongi said, reaching around Taehyung to slide his fingers beneath his thigh and bodily lift him up and over until he was sitting in Yoongi’s lap.
The reaction was instantaneous as Taehyung folded himself around Yoongi, long limbs a bit awkward on top of him but no less welcome.
“What am I going to do hyung?” Taehyung sighed. His eyes fluttered closed as Yoongi placed his hand solidly on the back of his neck, his thumb stroking soothing circles over his pulse point before tracing along the angry red line just above his jugular, massaging the tender area.
Yoongi worried his bottom lip, considering. They’d need to come up with a plan, the entire pack, together. He squeezed Taehyung tighter, one of his hands sneaking beneath his sweatshirt to place his palm against the small swell of Taehyung’s stomach. Small, skin-to-skin acts of comfort. It wasn’t much, but it was the easiest way he could think to soothe him.
Taehyung whined at the touch, his limbs going limp and boneless despite his racing mind.
“We’re going to work it out,” Yoongi promised. They’d need to have a meeting, as soon as possible. As irrational as it was, a protective side of Yoongi couldn’t help but resent the rest of the pack for going about their respective businesses, effectively abandoning Taehyung during what was perhaps the most life-altering announcement since the mating-prevention collars were introduced to the public ten years ago. He shook the thought off, recognizing, and regretting the unfairness of it even as he felt his hackles rise.
Yoongi wasn’t often susceptible to bouts of possessiveness or cloying protectiveness. He typically had an iron-clad grip on his alpha, something that was both a pro as much as it was a con depending on the circumstances. But it was now all he could do to contain the wave of both urges that swelled within him as silent tears made their way down Taehyung’s flushed cheeks once more.
A noise of distress left him, wanting to help but unsure how. This was where Jimin or Seokjin would best be suited, each alpha more posed to help with the emotional aspects of the pack than Yoongi ever was.
His phone rested heavily in his pocket as he battled with the practical need to call the pack, and the selfish, instinct-driven desire to be the sole one watching over Taehyung. It was disconcerting just how strong that urge was.
“The registry starts up in a month,” Taehyung sighed. Yoongi hated the note of resignation in his voice, as though he were trying to reconcile himself with the inevitable. As if his being taken from them was a foregone conclusion.
No.
“That’s more than enough time for us to figure something out,” Yoongi dismissed.
Taehyung hummed, but Yoongi could tell he was no longer really hearing him; the sound noncommittal as he sagged further into Yoongi’s arms. He knew that the omega was slipping, a small whine pressed against Yoongi’s collarbone signaling that the familiar floating sensation had already begun to fill his mind slowly, creeping along his consciousness like a fog across a bay as he let Yoongi hold him.
“Taehyung,”
Taehyung’s faint stirring let Yoongi know that he had at least heard the call of his name, but it felt so, so very far away as he let his eyes slip shut. Taehyung inhaled deeply, taking in Yoongi’s scent and curling even further into his body. He wrapped his legs around Yoongi’s waist, locking them together tightly as he sank into the comfort. Because Yoongi was safe, Yoongi was pack, Yoongi was home. The thought, and the alpha himself, was all that Taehyung could just barely manage to hold on to.
“It’s alright Taehyung-ah, alpha will take care of you,” was the last thing Taehyung heard before he submerged beneath the pull, his mind slipping, and body going lax in Yoongi’s lap as his hyung held him close.
Yoongi kept him like that, holding him well into the night as his mind wound its way through dozens of possibilities. One thing remained resoundingly clear- he’d take care of Taehyung, whatever it took.
+++
“A month is not enough time,” Jin breathed, his tone shaky as he struggled to hold himself together for the sake of his younger pack mates.
A litany of food was laid out on the kitchen table, a by-product of his stress-induced cooking frenzy. It had so far stayed untouched, none of the pack members, himself included, having had the appetite to eat it.
A sense of impending doom loomed eerily over them all, the palpable distress thickening the air in a mixture of unpleasant scents. Wilted flowers, soured citrus, and rancid dough swelled throughout the room, each wolf bothered by the scents, but each too distracted to bother reigning them in. The incense Namjoon had lit a half-hour ago had been full of kind intent, but only added to the stale, cloying atmosphere.
“That’s not helping hyung,” Hoseok murmured, the sound muffled from his position smothered beneath the collective weight of Jungkook and Taehyung on the couch.
The omegas had clung to each other the moment they had entered Namjoon’s apartment and had refused to let go, even as they had clambered onto Hoseok’s lap on the couch. As the nearest alpha they had come across upon entering, Hoseok was the natural choice, but as the second smallest alpha in the bunch, it had perhaps not been the best decision. As it stood, he would rather die than let his struggling pack mates go, so he had settled in, making it work even though his thighs had long since gone numb.
“Sorry,” Jin sighed, leaning back against the counter behind him. His brows furrowed, “Sorry, I just-”
“It’s hard,” Namjoon said consolingly, settling in at the kitchen table. His face was sullen, frown lines aging him prematurely as he placed his hands beneath his chin, pensive. “But we’ve gotten through everything as a pack, and that’s how we’ll get through this.”
They had been through quite a lot; from Jungkook’s surprise presentation as an omega, to Namjoon and Jin navigating a relationship as two Alphas, to Hoseok’s uncertainty of where he belonged in the pack – they had been through it all.
“Right, because the seven of us are completely equipped to take on the fucking government,” Jimin said snarkily, glowering at Namjoon.
“We will if we have to,” Namjoon said firmly, gaze unwavering as he spoke. There wasn’t a hint of doubt in his voice, entirely ready to lay anything and everything on the line if it meant protecting the men around him.
Taehyung sighed, not having spoken since the meeting had begun. Yoongi sat beside him on the couch, his hand tightly clasped in Taehyung’s own; where it had remained since the omega had latched on to it thirty minutes ago.
“I think we’re missing the obvious solution,” Namjoon spoke up when no comment had followed his last statement.
“Which is?” Jimin prompted.
Namjoon licked his lips, settling back in his seat as he gazed at the faces of the people around him. Of his chosen family.
“The law places unmated omegas in packs with a surplus of alphas so one will mate with them. If they have a mate, they can stay where they are.”
His words hung heavy in the air between them all, the implications massive in their weight.
“So, what you’re saying,” Jimin began, breaking the tentative silence that followed in the wake of Namjoon’s declaration, “is that we should mate Tae off to someone? Bring someone new into the pack to keep Tae here.”
For the first time since he had nestled himself into the cocoon of Hoseok’s arms, Taehyung sat up.
“That’s a possibility,” Namjoon agreed, looking straight at Taehyung. “Yes.”
“No,” Yoongi argued. His skin crawled at the idea of bringing someone else into their close-knit family of seven, the possibility of bringing someone new into the pack more than a little intolerable.
“No,” Taehyung echoed, his voice tiny. Jungkook pulled him closer into his side, nuzzling his cheek against the side of Taehyung’s neck – the part his collar didn’t quite obscure- as he glanced at Namjoon with irritation.
“I think we can all safely say that that’s off the table,” Jin said softly, even as he settled a less than gentle hand on his mate’s shoulder.
Namjoon tensed at the touch, or perhaps from the collective decision to dismiss his idea, but he didn’t move to argue. While it had been his idea, he had been no less eager to bring someone unknown into their midst.
“I think hyung could be right.”
Six heads collectively swiveled at the quietly spoken words, all eyes trained on Jimin in surprise.
Taehyung’s gaze was the hardest to meet, a combination of shock and hurt as he looked to his best friend. Jimin’s eyes stayed fixed on the table, mouth twisting uncomfortably at the unbridled rage from his mate now trickling down their bond.
Unconsciously, his fingers rubbed rhythmically along his claim mark, attempting to soothe the burn there as much as Jungkook’s upset.
“I’m not saying we should bring someone else into the pack,” he clarified, finally lifting his eyes to meet everyone. His gaze found Jungkook, and then Taehyung, lingering on the omega before trailing down, coming to settle on Taehyung’s hand still clasped tightly in Yoongi’s own.
“We have two unmated alphas in the pack.”
Taehyung let out a whoosh of air, feeling as though the wind had been knocked out of him. A weight settled heavily in his chest as he felt Hoseok tense beneath him and Yoongi beside him.
Jungkook made an aborted sound of protest, the upset noise dying in his throat as quickly as it had sprung forth. Taehyung couldn’t blame them, particularly Jungkook and Hoseok. The dance they had done for ages, Hoseok circling the periphery of Jimin and Jungkook’s bonding, as inherently a part of the pack as anything else now.
Hoseok had been the last to join, long after Jimin and Jungkook had already imprinted on one another. He had fit seamlessly among them, even more so right between Jungkook and Jimin. It was often that, when alone with either the omega or alpha in question, he would be mistaken for their mate.
When Jimin and Jungkook had finally mated, the shift in pack dynamics had been anything but subtle. Hoseok had distanced himself. What had started as a futile attempt at hiding the pain he felt had soon become a palpable wound amongst them all. The celebration of a new pair within the pack mating was a bittersweet affair as they all became painfully aware of the fact that what the three felt for each other went far beyond mere friendship and was now perhaps irrevocably damaged.
It was Taehyung who had stayed over at Jimin and Jungkook’s apartment, night after night, helping ease the unspoken anxiety and sorrow that sat between the two mates as they came to grips with Hoseok’s persistent avoidance of them. It had taken months of cancelled plans, ignored calls, tense pack meetings, and awkward Sunday dinners for things to return to something like normal.
It had only been two months ago that Jungkook had mentioned the concept of polyamorous mate bonds, a quiet comment in a lull of dinner conversation that had held the room in tense silence, the air between them all so fragile a mere breath could send it crashing to the ground.
Ever the helpful pack leader, Namjoon had offered him some resources, and then conversation had moved on – just like that. It hadn’t been brought up in front of the seven of them again, but the atmosphere had decidedly changed, a new, hopeful lightness that clung to their interactions.
Hoseok no longer waited on the outskirts of meetings, like a shadow that refused to venture into the light. Jungkook’s quiet, timid declaration had seemingly reversed it all, Jimin’s gentle and supportive smile at his mate’s words that night had been all the signal needed to convey that they were jointly interested in the possibility.
Hoseok had reintegrated into friendship with the couple like nothing had previously separated them. But now, under the weight of Jimin’s words, it felt like the tightly stitched wound that had divided them for so long was now rapidly, and painfully reopening.
Taehyung’s lips parted, wanting to comment but not knowing where to begin.
A heavy line marred Jimin’s forehead, severe in its downward slope just like the frown that pulled at his lips.
Jungkook’s hands had left Taehyung to run up and down Hoseok’s tight back. Between his two friends, Taehyung now felt more exposed – more alone – than ever.
He squirmed uncomfortably on Hoseok’s lap, wishing he could crawl over onto Yoongi’s to avoid being caught between the silent exchange happening around him. He would have, if not for how stiff the alpha sat beside him.
“I don’t think-” Namjoon began haltingly, only to stop mid-sentence.
It was obvious, more than obvious, that Hoseok and Jungkook both wanted to refuse the proposal. By the clear distress in Jimin’s own eyes, it was evident the alpha was just as displeased by his suggestion.
Taehyung couldn’t blame them, he understood perfectly. Still, he’d be lying if he said that the obvious revulsion they held towards the idea of Hoseok mating him didn’t sting a little. As the other unmated alpha in their midst, Yoongi’s reaction was more subdued, but he similarly hadn’t made a move to endorse the suggestion.
“Hoseok is still relatively new to our pack,” Jin said, filling in for his mate. “It wouldn’t be wise for us to rush into mating him off. I’m sure the government would think so as well if we tried to register them, eyebrows would be raised by the quickness of it all, don’t you think?”
No one pointed out the fact that three years was hardly ‘new’ to a pack. Similarly, no one moved to mention the fact that a registry that would throw omegas and alphas together haphazardly for life bonds without so much as a coffee-date introduction was the definition of quick.
Still, Jungkook settled at the words, leaning back to lie against Hoseok’s chest as the alpha sank back into the cushions behind him, both noticeably more relaxed. And yet, it did little to quell the look of betrayal Jungkook still had levelled on his mate.
Taehyung knew it would be a long night for the two of them.
“It makes sense,” Yoongi spoke up at last. He didn’t flinch as the collective attention of the room now fell to him, but he did sit up just a bit straighter. “Both what Jimin said and Jin hyung. We shouldn’t let someone else come into the pack, and Hoseok isn’t the ideal candidate to mate with Taehyung-ah now. But I could.”
Yoongi had yet to release Taehyung’s hand, and Taehyung could feel his grasp go lax in his hyung’s hold. The words were spoken with calm confidence, but Taehyung couldn’t even begin to fathom them.
His head spun, his eyes blinking rapidly to keep his vision in focus as he let himself slump against Hoseok’s shoulder. He wriggled his toes, trying to get some feeling throughout his body which was alarmingly going numb.
He could feel Jungkook’s concerned gaze on his profile, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet it.
Everything was –
Absurd.
That was the only real word he could put to the idea. Absurd. The Taehyung of eight years ago, or even a week ago, would have been incredulous but overjoyed to hear Yoongi, Yoongi declaring any form of an intention to mate with him. His long-held, none-too-subtle feelings for his hyung still ran deep. But now, faced with the alpha and the implied proposal, he felt sick. His stomach churned and his throat clogged, the feeling of Yoongi’s thumb rubbing circles into the back of his hand felt iron-hot, like a brand.
He knew without a shadow of a doubt that Yoongi would do it if Taehyung agreed to it, would fulfill his duty to the pack, to keep them all together. He would mate Taehyung, carry it out like Taehyung was a necessary burden to bear for the collective well-being of their group.
He was going to be sick.
“That’s not a bad idea,” Namjoon said at last. “In fact, I think it’s the best one we have, all things considered.”
Taehyung looked to Jin, waiting for the alpha to come up with a suggestion, or refute the words as he had earlier, but his hyung was no longer looking at him. Instead, the second alpha’s eyes were trained intently, and solely, on Yoongi.
Try as he might, he couldn’t will anyone to offer up a counter-point or outright deny the suggestion that with each passing moment seemed to be the most reasonable option.
“But-” Taehyung began, flushing as the room’s attention fell to him. He slipped his hand out from Yoongi’s, placing it slowly in his lap. He glanced at the alpha, lip pulled between his teeth in thought as his hands twisted together anxiously. He felt too big for his body, as if all his emotions, all his insecurities and fears were seconds away from breaking free.
“You don’t actually want to mate me.”
He winced as soon as the words left him, realizing instantly how pathetic they were. Of course, Yoongi didn’t actually want to mate him, the very point of the meeting was to find a solution for the problem that was Taehyung’s unmated status. He flushed, humiliated and regretful at having put Yoongi on the spot, and knowing that whatever answer Yoongi could give would only worsen his shameful feelings of self-pity and deprecation.
Yoongi cleared his throat. “We might not even have to actually mate,” he said, avoiding the statement entirely. Taehyung didn’t know whether to be relieved or hurt by the choice. “We don’t know how the registry actually works. It may just be signing a piece of paper and entering a database, I doubt they have the infrastructure to physically check each claim mark at this point, and we could find someone to fake them for us.”
It was all spoken so calmly; it sounded so reasonable. Taehyung searched Yoongi’s face, looking for any sign of uncertainty or trepidation.
“And if it’s not that simple?” Hoseok prompted, contributing to the conversation for the first time since it had started.
Yoongi’s hesitation was noticeable, but it only lasted a second before he was speaking once more, conviction still laced in his words. “Then we mate for real and take it from there.”
Taehyung had never been more thankful for skipping one of Jin’s meals, certain that had he eaten it would now be making its way back up his throat. He felt nauseous; dizzy with the possibility laid out before him. It was funny, really, how something that would have been a dream mere days ago now loomed over him like a nightmare.
“You don’t want that though,” Taehyung said, his heart clenching painfully as he met Yoongi’s eyes. “We can’t hyung, that’s so unfair to you.”
Yoongi’s smile was soft as he reached out his hand to take Taehyung’s once more. The touch was halting, as if Taehyung were a wild animal he didn’t want to spook.
“Anyone would be lucky to be your mate. And the priority is keeping the pack together. We don’t need to have all the details now, but we do need a plan. Fast.”
The silence that followed the declaration was answer enough. No one had any better plans because there were no better plans. A part of Taehyung understood that fact, but he couldn’t quite reconcile it within himself. Anxiety coiled tightly in his gut, threatening to consume him from the inside out.
He couldn’t bring himself to look at anyone else in the room, eyes trained carefully on his knees even as they blurred with tears. It was all too much, too soon. He could feel the beginnings of a panic attack coming on, clawing its way up his throat and suffocating him. The collar felt tighter than ever, and he couldn’t help the tiny noise of distress that slipped from him as his fingers came up to prod at it.
The remote to unlock it sat like a lead weight in his pocket, and if not for everyone now watching his every movement, he would have scrambled to retrieve it.
“I need some air,” he muttered, not bothering to direct the comment to anyone in particular. He knew that if he looked up he would surely see concern and pity directed his way, two emotions he couldn’t stomach at the moment.
Clumsily, he disentangled himself from Jungkook and Hoseok’s hold, shook off Yoongi’s hand around his own and stumbled ungracefully toward the front door. Distantly, he heard Jin’s voice calling out for him, but it sounded far off, and not the mere ten feet or so away from him it actually was.
He didn’t know where he was going, but he needed to get away. He shivered as the cold air hit him, instantly regretting not having grabbed his jacket in his haste. Taehyung knew it would only be a matter of moments before someone, if not the entire pack, chased after him.
Namjoon and Jin’s apartment was located near the outskirts of town, making the neighborhood blessedly empty for the most part. He was thankful for that, the tears he was rapidly blinking away obscured his vision to the point where he was sure to bump into someone had anyone been around.
His heart thumped painfully in his chest, the rush of blood a roar in his ears as he stumbled past apartment complexes and poorly maintained parks. His breathing was ragged, his pulse thundering in his throat as his collar grew impossibly tight. He knew it hadn’t actually tightened, the black choker still the same, solid weight around his neck as it had always been. Still, in his panic, it felt like a vice, a garrot attempting to steal each and every one of his breaths.
On the third street he turned onto, he sagged against the wall of an old apartment building in desperate need of renovation. He crouched to his knees, heaving for breath as he shook out his fingers in an attempt to gain some feeling in them. His hands trembled as he reached for his pocket, moving aside his keys and wallet in annoyance until his fingers finally slid over the thin, smooth surface of the remote.
Sliding it out, Taehyung cursed as he failed to turn it off on the first, or even the second try. He forced himself to take a breath, clenching his teeth as he steadied his hand just enough to slide the button that had the hooks of the collar sliding back. Relief was immediate and palpable as his hand came up to grip the collar, ripping it free of his throat as he let it dangle limply from his hand.
Finally free of his restraint, he sank to the ground, uncaring of how his pants were likely to be soiled in the waste and whatever else was littering the ground around him.
His eyes slid shut, the painful thumping in his head quieting for a minute as he blocked his surroundings out.
Things were not looking good. An understatement if he’d ever heard one. Mating Yoongi to get out from under the thumb of the government. It sounded ridiculous; laughable. And Taehyung would have laughed, if not for the painful swell in his throat. It was beyond wicked how the world could take something he had longed for for ages and twist it into something so mercilessly cruel.
It wasn’t the fact that he doubted his ability to be a good mate, any more than he would doubt Yoongi. Yoongi was everything that Taehyung had ever wanted. He had been pining for the alpha for as long as he remembered. He was certain Yoongi would be good to him, and he’d return it tenfold in kind.
But to be forced- to have to sleep with and claim Taehyung in the most intimate of ways possible all to keep him from being sold off to anyone; ripped from the pack. He groaned, low and guttural as he yanked at his hair in frustration. It was unfair, unfair to Yoongi just as much as it was unfair to Taehyung and every unmated omega that would have their lives forever altered because a bunch of egotistical alphas had the power to do so.
He could fake a mating- it’s not as though he would have to fake affection, his feelings were genuine. It was Yoongi that would take some practice. But if they were wrong, and they’d have to take the leap to make it real, he wasn’t so sure how they’d cope. He didn’t want a world in which Yoongi would grow to resent him, bitter over the fact that he didn’t have a chance to go out and find love for himself. He knew Yoongi wasn’t the type, but mating bonds were forever, and who knew how he’d feel about it all, ten, twenty, fifty years down the line. The very thought of I\it was enough to leave his head swimming.
A breeze blew through the alleyway, rustling the empty wrappers and cans in the narrow pathway and making Taehyung shiver. As overwhelmed as he was, in the cold and alone save for his thoughts, he wished his pack was there with him. He wanted Namjoon’s steadfast calmness, Jimin’s tactile comfort, and Hoseok’s reassuring smile. He wanted Jin’s humor, Jungkook’s determination to crush whatever bothered him, and Yoongi’s quiet shows of support. Running away had been a mistake, one that did little to help the emotions swirling through him.
His head snapped up as he heard footsteps toward the back of the alleyway. He squinted his eyes, trying to make out the shadow of the figure whose back was blocking the sunlight, hiding just who it was. He wondered who the pack had sent to trail him, the height of the man making it likely to be Namjoon or Jin. He hated the idea that he had them chasing after him and had an apology on the tip of his tongue as the man walked towards him.
Only, the words died on his tongue as soon as the man came into sight. It was very much not one of his packmates. The man appeared to be in his early forties with a scruffy beard and awkward lilt to his steps as he staggered over to Taehyung. The man looked drunk, and by the bottle poorly covered by a brown paper bag in his hand, Taehyung would be willing to bet money his hunch was correct.
“You lost little omega?”
Taehyung shook his head, wiping as surreptitiously as he could beneath his eyes to not look even more weak and pathetic than he felt.
Part of his mind alerted him to the fact that he was alone and hidden with an unfamiliar alpha that was less than sober, making him even more unpredictable. He blocked it out, only able to handle so much distress in a day as he rose to his feet, dusting his hands off on his already dirtied jeans.
“You look lost,” the man continued, shortening the distance between them quickly. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing all the way out here…” he paused, eyes sweeping over Taehyung before a slow grin crept along his features. His teeth were yellowed, making his smile as eerie as it was predatory. “And uncollared, too. My, my – you really are lost.”
“I’m not lost,” Taehyung repeated defiantly, though he very much was. He pursed his lips, wishing he had paid closer attention to where he was going when he’d left.
The man’s grin only widened. “Any omega that knew where they were certainly wouldn’t be out here all by themselves with no mate and no collar. We wouldn’t want anyone to take you, now would we?”
The look in his eyes told Taehyung that the man would very much have liked to take Taehyung.
Instinctively, his hand came to rest over his neck, eyes sweeping the ground for his remote that he’d dropped in his panic.
“There’s no need to worry,” the alpha continued, slowing to a stop two feet from him. He was close enough that should Taehyung attempt to make a break for it, he could easily reach out and catch him.
He wore a baggy hoody and even looser pants, but that didn’t give Taehyung any illusions that there wasn’t an alpha’s fitness beneath the clothing.
“I’m only here to help,” he continued, tossing the bottle in his hand aside carelessly. Taehyung flinched at the clatter it made; the paper-covered bottle skittering away a few inches before coming to a stop. “My name’s Hyeon, and I wouldn’t be much of an alpha if I didn’t help an omega out.”
“Thanks, but I’m fine, really,” Taehyung said. His collar sat tauntingly in his hand, a curse that for once would have been his saving grace.
“Do you have a pack?” Hyeon asked, leaning closer. Taehyung could smell the potent combination of soju and cigarettes on his breath, along with something strong and rancid that he couldn’t place.
“I do,” Taehyung said firmly. “A big one.”
Shaking his bangs out of his eyes, the alpha looked at him even closer. “I’m not sure I believe you.”
“Well, you should,” Taehyung snapped.
Hyeon continued as though he hadn’t heard Taehyung. “Have you seen the news lately? Unmated omegas just won’t do anymore. What do you say I take you home with me?”
“Hell no,” Taehyung grunted, panic momentarily seizing him as he lurched for the remote. His fingers touched along its edge, and for a moment he thought he’d make it in time, before his wrists were taken roughly in calloused hands and he found himself slammed against the brick wall behind him.
He hissed, knowing that there would surely be bruises as he looked up into the cold, mocking eyes of the older alpha.
“What do you say I save our wonderful government the effort and take you now?”
Taehyung gagged, feeling bile climb up his throat as the implications of his words sat between them.
“Get off of him.”
Taehyung’s eyes jerked to Namjoon, who had been the first to slide to a stop in the alley. His chest heaved as he panted for breath, his eyes red and nose twisted as he took in the scene in front of him.
Taehyung’s scent must have set him off, his fear was pungent and filled the enclosed space around him. Whereas it served as a distress call to his alphas, and any wolf with a shred of decency in them, it seemed to excite Hyeon more.
Hoseok and Yoongi were the next to come speeding around the corner, followed closely by Jimin and Jungkook, Seokjin a mere second behind them.
Each man looked livid, and Taehyung could feel his knees go weak in relief at the sight of them, Hyeon’s tight, unrelenting grip the only thing keeping him up.
“Fair is fair,” Hyeon said, ignoring the five pairs of red, and single pair of gold eyes trained on him with unbridled rage. “I got here first. If anything, it’s a civic duty.”
Several things happened at once at his declaration. Jimin grabbed Jungkook around the waist, bodily holding his mate back from ripping down the alley to tear the man’s head off. Hoseok froze, floored as he fought between helping hold the struggling Jungkook back or joining the others. No one else had similar hesitation, because Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi had shot down the narrow path before Hyeon had properly finished his sentence.
Taehyung didn’t think he had ever seen Yoongi move so fast, the shorter alpha leaping on Hyeon and wrenching his hands from Taehyung’s throat, sending the two of them clattering to the ground, a tangle of limbs.
Seokjin was quick to rush to Taehyung’s side, catching him before he could crash to the ground, holding him up with a steady hand around his waist as Namjoon moved to help Yoongi.
Yoongi didn’t need much assistance. If anything, Namjoon’s aid took shape in the form of prying Yoongi off of Hyeon, grabbing his hands from where they were tightly wrapped around the dazed alpha’s throat, his claws having sunk into the skin there where they drew a steady stream of blood.
A cacophony of growls echoed off the walls on either side of them, the smells of enraged and scared alphas a suffocating, heady scent all around them.
“Taehyung’s safe, he’s fine Yoongi,” Jin said sharply, watching as Yoongi struggled to get himself under control.
Taehyung knew the war being waged within the alpha at that moment, caught between his wolf’s relentless need to protect his packmate and kill whatever danger threatened him, and his human side’s rationale that knew murdering a man was the last thing their pack needed right now.
“Hyung,” Namjoon urged, hands tightening around Yoongi’s warningly, even as he continued to keep a close eye on Hyeon who was still on the ground, wheezing for breath.
Hyeon’s face had gone a mottled shade of purple, white fingerprints visible along his neck as he scuttled backwards on his hands and feet. It would have been hilarious if Taehyung weren’t still shaking.
“I’m fine Yoongi hyung, it’s okay.” Taehyung said, when it became clear that Yoongi was still far from done with Hyeon. It looked as though Yoongi were ready to kick him – perhaps a lot more- until he finally registered Taehyung’s words.
He blinked, frowning slightly as his body loosened in Namjoon’s hold. Tentatively, the pack alpha released him, watching Yoongi wearily as he slowly came down from his haze.
“He’s safe,” Seokjin reiterated, motioning Yoongi to come closer.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Namjoon barked to Hyeon, and Taehyung could tell he was using a considerable amount of restraint not to finish what Yoongi had started.
Part of Taehyung meanly wished that Namjoon had let Yoongi continue for just a bit longer. Because really, that was the only justice he could have gotten. It’s not like the police would have done anything about it- at most they would have chastised Taehyung for having taken off his collar in public. Wearily, Taehyung hoped his hyungs wouldn’t do the same.
Hyeon didn’t need telling twice, scrambling to run out of the alley, far faster than he had lumbered in. Now free from Jimin, Jungkook managed one hard shove to Hyeon as he clamored past, the alpha shrieking in surprise before grunting in pain as he ran harshly into the edge of the wall, making an impact into the sharp corner with a loud thud.
Cursing, he didn’t bother to try and retaliate, Jimin and Hoseok’s twin glares warning enough.
Taehyung let out a sound of surprise as Yoongi wrapped him in a tight hug, squeezing him as though he were seconds away from vanishing into thin air. Taehyung was thankful for the touch, his warm arms grounding him as Taehyung returned the embrace. Yoongi was scenting him, thoroughly, and Taehyung sighed at the gesture. He clung back tightly, refusing to let go even as the others quickly joined in.
Everyone was there, surrounding them as they all tried to hold on to some part of Taehyung, needing to reassure him that he was safe.
“We were so worried,” Jimin groaned, as if the weight of his fear over Taehyung had physically hurt him.
“’M sorry,” Taehyung murmured, his words hard to make out from their place pressed into the hollow of Yoongi’s neck and shoulder.
“It’s not your fault,” Jungkook said raggedly, and Taehyung made sure to grab his hand. The omega was trembling, his eyes livid even as he shook slightly. Hoseok’s front was pressed to his back, his arms bracketing Jungkook as his hands rested on each of Taehyung’s shoulders.
“We need to get back inside,” Namjoon said firmly. He was the first to step back, but not without running his wrist firmly along Taehyung’s scent gland, worry furrowing his brow.
Seokjin was the next to step back. He bent down, retrieving Taehyung’s remote from the ground as well as his collar that had fallen in the commotion.
“Let me,” Jimin mumbled, taking the items from Jin’s hand and turning to face Taehyung expectantly.
It took several more moments for Hoseok and Jungkook to disentangle themselves from around Taehyung, Yoongi being the last with one lingering brush of his nose along Taehyung’s neck.
He was thankful for it, his pack’s scent like a welcome, weighted blanket over his nerves.
He bent obediently as Jimin placed the collar around his throat, carefully snapping it into place before locking it and arming the alarm with the remote. Taehyung took the small device when it was offered back to him, sliding it into his pocket with a tired sigh.
The pack fell in line behind Namjoon easily as he led them from the alley, the alpha deftly herding the rest of the pack out onto the street. A somber silence surrounded them, and Taehyung couldn’t help shrinking in on himself as a dark cloud of self-loathing loomed overhead. He had been the one to put himself in danger, it was him who had run from the den and had made his pack worried for his safety. It sat as an uncomfortable weight in his stomach, and Taehyung found himself whimpering at the realization before he could properly stop himself.
He startled at the warm hand that slipped inside his own, calloused fingers squeezing meaningfully as a soft shoulder brushed against his. His eyes met Yoongi’s, and his heart stuttered at the concern and sincerity he found there. Yoongi was looking at him softly, his eyebrows scrunched in a clear sign of anxiousness, even as he exuded as many comforting pheromones as he could. The solid grip of his hand around Taehyung’s was grounding, a wordless testament of ‘it’s going to be okay’.
He forced himself to look away- overwhelm threatening to take over him with each step. It was impossible to miss the furtive, worried glances the rest of the pack threw over their shoulders as they went, every second a new set of familiar eyes making their way across the expanse of Taehyung’s body as though to check that he was still there and wholly intact. It was impossible to ignore.
The day was unseasonably humid, and Taehyung suddenly felt too big for his skin. He felt hot and restless, just as he had back in the den, only now running away was far from an option, given how well it had worked out the first time around. He sighed as they trekked up the familiar steps to Namjoon’s home, filing in line one after another, and he wanted nothing more than to fall into one of his alpha’s arms. Yoongi’s, specifically. To build a nest and curl up in Yoongi’s lap with the rest of the pack beside him as a shield, to comingle their scents and pile together and just be – sheltered from the rest of the world that suddenly seemed so intent on ripping them apart.
The world may not be something he could run from, but at least he could take shelter with his pack. As soon as they’d crossed the threshold the pack sprang into action seamlessly, as if a starting gun had shot off and Taehyung had been the only one not to hear it.
Jin disappeared down the hall towards the bedroom, Namjoon to the linen closet, and Jungkook to the laundry, their footsteps hurried but quiet on the carpeted ground as they shuffled back with arms weighed down by a myriad of clothes, towels, and blankets. Jimin and Hoseok were stripping chairs and couches off their cushions, and even with his hand still firmly clasped in Taehyung’s, Yoongi had quietly begun moving pieces of furniture back and to the perimeter of the living room.
He could feel tears gather in his eyes; touched. They all moved around one another with the intimacy of those that had been together for years and had over the course of them learned how to fit together flawlessly. The nest-building was quick work with the six of them working in tandem, and Taehyung, filled to the brim with emotion, felt ready to burst.
They’d all been in one of his and Jungkook’s nests enough times to know their intricacies, but even so, Taehyung couldn’t help being astonished at how expertly Jin knotted the towels together to form a perimeter, about how carefully Jimin arranged the cushions. And then he noticed Jungkook- the youngest member diligently arranging the cushions by size instead of color – and the tears really did fall.
During heat cycles it was a fight they’d had numerous times back in the early days, an alpha having to pull them apart more than once after Jungkook’s face had gone red with the effort of explaining why color coordination was more soothing, and Taehyung having thrown a bed pillow across the room with the force of his insistence that size was obviously the most logical way to maximize comfort. And to now see Jungkook wordlessly and seemingly without complaint arranging things just the way Taehyung liked, had Taehyung shaking where he stood.
“Hey, shh, it’s alright,” Yoongi murmured, pulling Taehyung into his chest.
He could see Hoseok stiffen across the room from him, the instinctual need to comfort a distressed omega warring with his need to finish the nest. Taehyung felt so damn weak. He should be the one building the nest, he should be the one making sure everyone else was okay. He should-
“Baby,” Jimin said softly, his lips puckered in a distressed pout as he came to stop in front of Taehyung. “Don’t cry, it’s okay.”
The words only made his tears fall more quickly, but Jimin was undeterred as he reached his hands up to gently cup Taehyung’s face.
“It’s going to be okay,” he murmured, leaning forward to brush his lips against Taehyung’s in a soft kiss- so sweet even tainted by his salty tears.
Taehyung sighed into the contact, melting against him as he felt Yoongi wrap his arms around him from behind, his front a solid weight against Taehyung’s back.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Jimin murmured, resting his forehead against Taehyung. “We’re going to take care of each other, and it’s going to be okay, understood?”
Jimin’s eyes crinkled in the ghost of a smile as Taehyung nodded slowly, the alpha brushing a finger beneath his chin and clucking affectionately before he pulled away.
Taehyung hummed as Yoongi’s arms tightened around him, the soft kiss he placed beneath Taehyung’s jaw a comforting echo of Jimin’s words.
“Hyung, don’t cry,” Jungkook mumbled, walking up beside his mate and taking Jimin’s hand in an iron grip. He didn’t even realize he was doing it, his anxiety at seeing his fellow omega in such distress consuming him. To his credit, Jimin didn’t even flinch, simply running his thumb along the back of Jungkook’s hand soothingly as the omega looped his arm around Taehyung’s shoulders in a tight hug.
“We’re going to take care of you, hyungs will kill anyone that gets in our way.” It was almost comical how incongruous the words were with the two soft kisses Jungkook pressed to Taehyung’s lips, but he could only smile softly at the youngest’s words.
The sentiment was shared among the rest of the pack, each member echoing the words with their own support in the form of reassurance, soft scenting touches, and even softer kisses. They were being so fucking gentle with him, and Taehyung couldn’t help but bask in the loving attention they so freely gave him.
They all stripped down to their underclothes, Yoongi taking Taehyung by the hand and leading him carefully into the very center of the nest. It was so, so soft, and Taehyung didn’t know what was more comforting – the silk sheets that Jin had brought out just for these occasions, or Yoongi’s warm, naked chest beneath his cheek.
Jungkook clung to his back like a koala, and even with his eyes closed, he could easily decipher each hand and arm that reached out for him as they made themselves comfortable in the nest. And it was like that, surrounded by the scents and touch of his pack, with Namjoon and Yoongi’s gentle purring in his ears, that he finally found sleep.
+++
It was almost painful, having to slowly move himself out from beneath Taehyung. Not physical, the omega weighed next to nothing to him despite the few centimeters of height he had on him. No, it was an emotional, bone-deep ache that Yoongi had to clench his teeth around to let the sleeping omega out of his grip for a moment. But even so, he knew that after a ten-hour long pack pile, the pack, especially the omegas, would wake up ravenous. And with hunger came crankiness, and Yoongi knew that the last thing they needed was a grouchy Jungkook and even poutier Taehyung on top of everything else.
Extricating himself from the nest was a slow-going affair, every few inches there would be a grasping hand or hooking foot seeking to keep him there even in unconsciousness. Finally, he managed to free himself from the soft pile, missing its warmth even as the AC chilled the sweat on his body.
It took another minute of hunting around for him to find his clothes from the day prior, and he dressed quickly before hurrying into the kitchen.
It was only a matter of time before the others woke up, so he concerned himself less with being quiet and more with speed as he began hurriedly laying out the ingredients to assemble a few rolled omelets.
The work was familiar and as his hands moved on instinct, he allowed his mind to wander. He grimaced as the memory of the day before crossed his thoughts with nauseating clarity. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so viscerally furious- the last time he had been so palpably terrified.
He swallowed down the bile that rose with the memory of Taehyung in the grip of the alpha- and he had to clench his eyes shut beneath the new wave of anger that threatened to take him. Namjoon should have let him kill the fucker. He should have let Yoongi rip out his throat and then his beating heart for good measure and –
He sighed, cracking an egg into the bowl with more force than necessary as he sought to reign in his emotions. He supposed moments like that were why he had so easily ceded the role of pack leader to Namjoon. While he was certain in his competence as a leader, and confident in his role of alpha- it was the tough in-the-moment decisions for the good of the pack like that that he didn’t envy the younger man for. It was easier, deferring to someone else that he knew had their collective best interest in mind. Always.
Yoongi also knew how tiring carrying that weight was, which was why he always did his best to help lighten it whenever he saw Namjoon struggling. He was content being second in command; assured in his ability to step up and act as leader if needed, but wholly alright with not needing to be the bearer of that responsibility.
But there were still times where he wished he had fought for control. Fleeting, though they may be, they were still there in moments like this when he wished he had the sole authority, where he could decide to snuff out the life of someone that dare lay their hands on one of the pack’s own, to unflinchingly merit out justice when he knew the authorities would not.
Namjoon’s decision may have been the most logical – and deep inside Yoongi knew that it had been the for the best – but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
“Look at you taking on chef duties. Try to fix your face, that sour look is going to curdle the eggs.”
Yoongi startled at the voice behind him, only to relax just as quickly as he registered his hyung’s words.
He snorted, inelegant and loud in the quiet den as he began to beat the eggs. “Somehow I think they’ll be fine,” he sighed, not bothering to turn to Jin even as the alpha saddled up beside him.
“And what about you?” Jin asked, sweeping the discarded eggshells into the trash.
“What about me?” Yoongi huffed, whipping the eggs with a bit more force than strictly necessary.
“Are you fine?”
Yoongi sighed, his eyes slipping shut for a small moment before he shuffled over towards the stove. “You know I’m not, none of us are. How can we be until we’re all safe?”
“Maybe fine was the wrong word then,” Jin acquiesced, pulling out a barstool from beneath the counter and perching on top. “We’re all stressed and worried, but we’ll make it through this. We always have, and we’re not going to stop now.”
“I know,” Yoongi murmured. He let his shoulders sag, suddenly tired despite the best sleep he’d had in a week. He set the bowl aside, moving over to the coffee machine that Jin and Namjoon had bought more for him than anyone else to begin brewing a pot.
The thing was, Yoongi did know. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that they’d all fight tooth and nail for one another, to stay together. Failing had never been, and never would be, an option. Not when they had one another.
“It’s just going to be an uphill battle. And Tae-” he trailed off, letting the words linger in the air as he gathered his thoughts. “I know it’s nothing personal,” he mumbled, wincing as he realized how pathetic his next words would sound. “But he literally ran away at just the thought of pretending to mate me. I don’t know how this is going to go.”
“It’s nothing personal.” Jin’s eyes were soft, pitying almost, and Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to look at them. “Hey,” he prodded, bending so he could get a better look at Yoongi. “You know that right?”
His fingers tapped an anxious staccato on the linoleum of the counter; his eyes bore holes into the floor. “Yeah, I know.”
“He’s scared,” Jin stressed. The words were like a punch to the gut as he remembered that first, frantic phone call from Taehyung, of the horrible fear in his voice that had seemed to claw its way around Yoongi’s heart and squeeze. “We all are. I know this will be especially hard for you-”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he snapped, his eyes finally rising to meet Jin’s gaze head-on.
And there was that dammed pity again. “Yoongi,” Jin said softly. Too soft. Yoongi was a rather levelheaded alpha all things considered, but even so, there was nothing more intolerable than receiving pity from someone of the same class. It was a sign of weakness, and he had to resist the urge to grab the back of his neck and hide his stomach on instinct, immediately defensive.
Jin clucked his tongue, looking entirely unimpressed by Yoongi’s narrowed gaze. “Stop that. You know what I mean.”
“I really don’t,” he muttered, setting the pan harshly down on the stovetop.
“The omegas don’t know, and maybe you’ve even fooled Jimin. But it’s been obvious since the moment you imprinted on him-”
“Shut up,” Yoongi hissed, whipping around so fast that he almost sent the bowl of eggs hurtling to the floor. Jin blinked at him, having caught the bowl easily enough as he watched Yoongi carefully. “Someone could-”
“They’re still asleep,” Jin said. He was aggravatingly calm. “But Yoongi, maybe it’s time you told him.”
“No.” The response resonated in the quiet kitchen, a firm rebuff that ordinarily wouldn’t have allowed for a response. But Jin was nothing if not determined.
“He deserves to-”
“It’ll just make things weird,” he interrupted, a well-rehearsed list of excuses already coming back to the forefront of his mind. “And if we really do go through with this whole fake mating thing, it’ll just make him feel guilty. He doesn’t need that right now. I’ve been handling it fine for years now, it’s not going to be an issue.”
“But-”
“I’m tired,” he said instead, the words not close to encompassing the absolute exhaustion he felt. “Let’s just drop it. Please?”
Jin looked at him, long and hard with that infuriatingly penetrating gaze that never failed to make Yoongi uncomfortable. After a long beat of silence, he sighed, seemingly admitting defeat. “Fine, I’ll drop it. For now,” he stressed. Not an entire concession, but Yoongi would take the small victories. “If you’re tired you could always come back to the nest-”
“I’m hungry!”
Jin’s lips twisted in a wry grin at Jungkook’s cry from the living room. He reached up, grabbing a mug from the top shelf, and handing it to Yoongi with a small smirk.
“Asshole,” Yoongi muttered at the subtle jab to his height, but his own small smile softened any real bite the insult may have had.
“And you love me for it,” Jin sassed, blowing him a quick kiss.
“Yeah, yeah- aish, get off me you big idiot,” Yoongi wheezed, struggling in the tight hug Jin wrapped him in, his feet barely skimming the ground as he was unceremoniously lifted up.
“Just offering my baby alpha some cheer!”
“I’m literally the second eldest,” Yoongi mumbled, relieved to be set back on his feet. “Now are you going to help me feed the cubs or not?”
“Aye, aye captain,” Jin smirked, endeared by Yoongi’s disheveled state. “Let’s get to work.”
+++
They didn’t talk about it. Not for the rest of the day, or the next. Taehyung knew it was mostly for his sake but had the sneaking suspicion the others needed a break as well.
They’d spent the better part of three days in Jin and Namjoon’s apartment together, the space big enough to serve as their impromptu home base whenever needed. With the others around him, he had felt safe. Even with everything at play in the background, he’d felt calm. Now, winding his way down the city streets, he felt wired and on edge.
His hands twisted in his pockets restlessly as he passed by a string of shop windows and cafes. Yoongi’s hoodie, while warm even as threadbare as it had become, was hardly enough to stand against winter’s slow creep. But that had done little to deter him from wearing it. For the last 72 hours, he’d seldom been without it, save for those quick showers and moments in the nest where it became too hot to bear. Yoongi’s scent was a welcome one, even if the thought of Yoongi brought him so many conflicting feelings.
The thought of mating Yoongi had circled him for the last three days, high and lazy like a vulture. Each time he saw his hyung cook, every time the alpha wrapped his arms around him and told him they’d find a solution, his omega made it quite clear that Yoongi would make a phenomenal mate.
But he knew that already. He’d always known that. It was why he’d imprinted on him all those years ago, after all.
An uncomfortable bitterness swelled within him as he walked. It was a particular type of cosmic irony, the solution Jimin had proposed. As though all he’d ever wanted was being spoon-fed to him from a silver platter- the catch being the poison laced throughout it.
He wanted Yoongi. He had wanted him for so long, that he could hardly remember a time with the alpha in his life that he hadn’t. But not like this, never like this. He knew Yoongi would make it work, for Taehyung’s sake just as much as the pack- the alpha selfless to a fault at times. But that didn’t make Taehyung feel any less guilty. Any less envious.
He’d woken up before the others that morning, the sun’s light just creeping in between the curtains. He’d laid there, head pillowed beneath Yoongi’s chin and Jin’s arm wound tightly around his waist as he’d thought.
He had let his eyes sweep across the slumbering faces of his packmates, had taken them each in one by one. Until his eyes had stopped to linger on the thin, ornate line of velvet tight around Jungkook’s throat. That had been when Taehyung had woken the others, needing to be alone with his thoughts.
For the most part, he kept his head down as he walked. It was particularly hard seeing the seemingly endless number of mates he passed along the streets. The dainty lace, silver, velvet, and diamond collars adorning their throats- all present signals to the rest of the world that they had been chosen. That they had been wanted.
Taehyung could hide it from the others, but he could do little to run from the envy that tended to consume him in moments like this.
He sighed, gritting his teeth against the cold as he shouldered through the crowd. He kept his head low, made his body as unobtrusive as possible as he walked.
The last thing he needed was a nosy alpha that felt too comfortable in their power to take whatever they wanted, even if he was wearing his collar.
Jimin had been adamant about it before he’d left that morning. The alpha had personally locked and tightened it around Taehyung before he’d been allowed to leave- and that only after he’d elicited a promise that Taehyung would keep it on no matter what.
Taehyung resisted the urge to rub at his neck, to draw attention to his collar, even as he fought the overwhelming desire to rip it off.
He wondered what it would be like to have a chosen collar. One gifted to him by the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. A signal to the rest of the world that he was taken by choice, and not merely as protection out of necessity.
It might have not made much sense, changing one collar for another, but the freedom that came with that seemingly small change was undeniable. The pleasure, too.
As ill-advised as it likely was, Taehyung allowed his mind to wander. Allowed himself to think of how things could be if the circumstances were different.
He let himself wonder what things would be like if Yoongi wanted to mate him. What kind of collar would he give to Taehyung? Something ornate and delicate? Or something big and elaborate, to show the whole world just who his mate belonged to.
Taehyung let himself imagine Yoongi’s proud smile at introducing Taehyung as his mate, that same smile he wore when he’d first introduced his parents to his pack, or whenever he played one of his new songs for any of the pack members. But unlike those times, his smile would be solely aimed at Taehyung.
He could certainly dream.
“Sorry,” he murmured as he bumped into someone, too distracted to properly look where he was going.
He forced himself to concentrate, to focus on where he was and his surroundings. He couldn’t bear the humiliation that would come if he ended up in a similar position as he’d gotten himself into the day before.
Hyeon. He hoped that the man would think twice before he targeted another omega. He hoped the damage that Yoongi had inflicted would last.
That familiar tightening in his throat was slowly lodging itself back into place. The thoughts were inescapable as they bombarded Taehyung from every direction. Billboards had already been erected- reminding packs to register their omegas. Like they were dogs waiting to be microchipped and returned to their proper owners. It was incredible. It was terrifying.
Bitterness was now a heavy and reoccurring taste on his tongue.
He sighed, ignoring the billboards, mated pairs, and pretty collars that surrounded him. Instead, he tucked his hands back inside his pockets, turned around, and headed back to the den.