Archive of Our Own

Yoohyun’s first rut was, to Yoojin, entirely unexpected. It was only once he arrived home from work and was hit full force with the musky scent of another alpha that he was forced to take an objective look at his little brother. It’d been some time since Yoohyun had had that milk-sweet scent of a pup and though Yoojin had known that his brother would present eventually, he… hadn’t prepared at all for said eventuality. 

How could he! Yoohyunnie was his precious baby brother! Yoojin’s spent so long taking after him, making sure Yoohyun had everything he could want - making sure he didn’t feel the loss of their parents too keenly. How could it be time for Yoohyun’s presentation already, anyway? Isn’t he still just that chubby cheeked kid clinging to Yoojin’s legs? What does it matter that Yoohyun’s now just as tall as him and still growing, huh? A baby’s a baby and a baby has no business being in rut!!

More than just Yoohyun’s (not so sudden) presentation, these last few years have caught Yoojin entirely off guard. It feels like he turned around one day and Yoohyun had simply grown up overnight, without regard to how Yoojin would feel about that. All that baby fat stripped away, leaving in its place an ever deepening voice and broadening shoulders and an independence that Yoojin is equally proud of and terrified by. It seems less a natural maturing and more like aphrodite springing out, fully formed. 

Even more so given… everything. 

By the time Yoohyun’s rut caught Yoojin flat footed, they hadn’t had more than a glancing conversation about it. A brief acknowledgement, however long ago, that they’d have to start making plans for it soon. That nebulous, ever elusive soon. It’s not like there were many options to be had; Yoojin had looked over the options when he’d first presented and everything other than taking a few days off work and skulking about the house was too expensive. 

Not that Yoojin wouldn’t make space in their budget if Yoohyun wanted to try out one of those specialty rut hotels. Not that Yoohyun would ever voice such a want, if he had it; he worries over their finances more than any kid should have to, no matter how much Yoojin tries to shield him from it. 

But to be so unprepared that he hadn’t even been keeping the kitchen stocked with low prep, easy to eat food? No water bottles full of electrolytes kept in the fridge, just in case? God, who even knows where the second bite pillow Yoojin bought has ended up. In the back of a cupboard somewhere but where? Definitely not easy enough access for Yoohyun to find, given Yoojin’s own experiences with how muddled his brain gets during rut. 

Those are the first thoughts Yoojin has upon opening his apartment door and being absolutely slammed with a wave of scent. Strong enough he’d noticed it in the corridor but, foolishly, had dismissed it as a lingering scent from a different resident as they’d walked past. How could he ever have thought it belonged to anyone but his Yoohyun? More matured than it’d been even just that morning, entirely stripped of the last vestiges of childhood, but unmistakably Yoohyun.

Describing scents has never been one of Yoojin’s strengths. No ‘hints of pine and lavender’ or whatever that other people swear up and down they notice; too Yoojin, it’s the same farce as when people talk about wine tasting. It’s just… wine. They all taste different but he’s certainly never picked up on ‘hazelnut accents’ or ‘an undertone of chocolate’. Maybe if things had gone differently, he’d be the type of person who had enough time that he could develop a nose for those sorts of things. In this life, all he knows is that his apartment just smells like… Yoohyun. 

Like home. 

Stinky, stinky teenage boy home, but home nevertheless. 

After the initial panic and self-recrimination - just because he doesn’t want to deal with something! He shouldn’t ignore it! So what if that’s how he gets by day to day, he can’t use such a terrible tactic on Yoohyun-ah! - Yoojin belatedly steps inside their small apartment and eases the door closed. Tip-toeing across to the kitchen to set down the groceries he’d picked up on his way home, he attempts to scrape his brain for what he’d taught Yoohyun about the whole mess of it. 

When that turns up nothing but static, Yoojin reaches even further back and tries his last resort: attempting to remember what he’d been taught in school. What Yoohyun was, presumably, also learning. After a handful of discounted, shelf stable items are put away, Yoojin gives up on that idea. Not that Yoojin didn’t pay attention in school - he tried his best! It’s just that he spent most of his time before he dropped out preoccupied with making sure Yoohyun was doing okay and worrying about bills.

As it happens, Yoojin’s actually pretty sure he dropped out before any of his teachers started seriously discussing the topic of presentations. His own rut had come earlier than anyone anticipated. Not precociously early, his doctor had explained - the school doctor, just before Yoojin dropped out; no way he’d waste money on himself like that, otherwise - but he’d been the first in his entire year to present and then he’d dropped out. Probably the teachers had covered it after he left but that doesn’t help him anymore now than it did then.

No one would hire him for anything other than after school jobs, back before he presented. From one day to the next he went from child to alpha and he got his first decently paying job less than a week after his rut ended. Two more days of school - one mostly taken up by speaking to the school doctor - and then he’d firmly shut that door behind himself. He doesn’t regret it. Can’t, when working so hard has provided Yoohyun with the stability needed to get all the way to his graduating year. 

The only proper education Yoojin got is likely to be unhelpful, for Yoohyun. After all, it’s not as though Yoohyun was presenting early from stress; from having his brain chemistry rewired, hormones kickstarted by being the sole carer of a child while little more than that himself. Theoretically. Without further testing the school doctor had only been able to speculate but they’d both known the truth of it. The only tidbit that Yoojin would be able to impart are things that Yoohyun already knows from living with Yoojin. 

After all, if familial ruts and heats didn’t exist, Yoojin would have to seclude himself every couple of months just to keep Yoohyun safe! How else would anyone take care of their families if rut was a never ending burn of unquenchable lust, huh? The sole rut Yoojin had had without Yoohyun’s soothing presence - off on a school trip that Yoojin had worked his fingers to the bone in order to pay for - had been hell. 

Alternating between stalking endlessly around their small apartment, sleeping, and fucking his own hand so furiously that he’d been chafed and in pain by the end of it - what a miserable day and a half, until Yoohyun had walked back through the door. The almost immediate switch from aimless aggression and incessant lust to what Yoohyun calls his ‘menace mode’, if only because a younger Yoojin had been offended at the idea of it being called ‘mum mode.’

Hovering perpetually at Yoohyun's shoulder, making sure there's nothing he needs, can Yoojin get him anything? Constantly touching him; an arm around his shoulders, holding hands, arms looped together, pressing his face into his brothers hair, his neck, and huffing that sweet, sweet baby scent. Which… he won’t be able to do anymore. The neutrality had already been slipping away from Yoohyun’s scent through Yoojin’s last couple of ruts. Yoojin should’ve appreciated it more while he had it! 

If the slow lessening of such a scent had bothered him, then maybe Yoojin would’ve been prepared for his brothers rut! Instead he’d barely noticed! Given how he orbits Yoohyun like a sun when he’s rut brained and working entirely on impulse, it really seems like something he should’ve paid more attention to! If he gets sulky during his next rut when he’s got nothing but a nose-full of fresh alpha scent, it’s really his own fault!

Pausing, halfway through washing the rice for dinner, Yoojin realises that it won’t be alpha and child sharing an apartment during ruts anymore. It’ll be - it is, currently, right now - alpha and younger alpha. That… could be a problem. From what Yoojin’s overheard some of his colleagues saying, at least. Having to navigate the shifting dynamic parent and maturing child can be complicated anyway, even without throwing gender in the mix. 

Saying all alphas are territorial is like saying the sky is blue - though why such a thing is only a stereotype about alphas, Yoojin doesn’t know. He’s worked with omega colleagues close to heat! It’s dangerous! He tried to use one of the trolleys, entirely unaware that they’d claimed it, and almost got his arms ripped off! Everyone gets a bit territorial, during their time. 

It’s just that young alphas tend to be proactive about it, apparently. Not in Yoojin’s experience - but then, Yoojin wasn’t a particularly ‘good’ alpha, by societal standards. If he bothered to get an official ranking, he’d be a middling alpha at best. Closer to beta on the spectrum, or maybe closer to omega? No matter how much media and society tries to portray the whole thing as a line with alpha at one end and omega at the other with beta an odd middling zone in between, experience has shown Yoojin it’s simply not like that. 

Or maybe it is like that for people with money? But all the people Yoojin knows are just doing their best; little enough time to worry about gender differences when they’re just barely scraping by. The whole mess feels more like a loop, to Yoojin. One gender blending into the next until they’re all basically the same except for the way their genitals happen to develop during puberty. He’s met omegas more aggressive than any alpha and alphas who dream of home making rather than breadwinning - it’s all bullshit, is what he’s saying. 

So they’re both alphas now? So what! Even if Yoohyun turns out to be one of those alphas who’s ultra defensive of his territory - even if there’s a correlation between ‘high level’ alphas (and omegas) and aggression levels, who cares! Based on strength of scent alone, his Yoohyun-ah is definitely close to being a prime alpha and all that means is Yoojin’s going to have to get a bigger stick in order to beat the crowds away from his brother!

Sure, Yoojin can taste the aggression still lingering in the air but that’d been when Yoohyun had been all alone in the apartment. Once his brain registers Yoojin’s active scent, rather than the perpetual scent worn into their home by years of occupation, he’ll calm down. Maybe he’ll try and posture at Yoojin a little bit but that’s not threatening - that’s prime blackmail material. Yoojin should get his phone ready, just in case. 

Rut hormones really do a bunch of annoying things to the brain; it’s a lack of inhibition, stripping away impulse control in a way that’s frequently analogied as being drunk. Control is still possible, it just takes significantly more effort than it usually does. The sort of self control that a vast majority of alphas pretend they don’t have, just to act like complete dirtbags with the excuse of their rut. 

His Yoohyunnie would never, of course, but it’ll be fun to get a sneak peak at what a drunk Yoohyun would be like! Yoohyun-ah is so well mannered that Yoojin’s scraping the bottom of the barrel when it comes to embarrassing stories. Cute stories he could tell for days, but embarrassing? Yoohyun’s rut might prove to be a blessing in disguise, after all! 

Putting the rice on to cook, Yoojin looks at their meal plan and left overs and starts shuffling things around. He’ll cook up a bunch of things tonight so that all Yoohyun has to do while Yoojin’s at work is raid the fridge. Water bottles should probably be put on Yoohyun’s bedside table; hydration is important! Doubly so when someone is, uh. Losing a lot of fluid. 

If he didn’t know how much energy an ‘active’ rut took out of someone, Yoojin might try to tiptoe into Yoohyun’s room and leave a drink and some snacks for when his brother wakes up. But it’s better to let him get as much sleep as he can in between waves rather than risk waking him up, even if his rut’ll switch over to something much calmer and sleepier once he gets a good whiff of Yoojin. 

Good thing it was a weekend! It would’ve been a nightmare if his brother presented at school, given how strong his scent is and how many of his peers have already gone through this. Posturing, insecure teenagers and smitten omegas - just thinking about it is enough to threaten Yoojin with a headache. 

Vegetables washed and aligned on the counter, Yoojin can only thank his lucky stars that everything seems to have aligned more or less perfectly, even if he’s still a bit sour over Yoohyun having presented at all. Far too soon! So what if he’s already a late bloomer at seventeen, Yoohyun could stay unpresented for his entire life and Yoojin would happily take care of him! Twenty seems like a better time to present - no, thirty. A nice round number. Yoohyun should’ve waited until he was thirty. Yoojin would’ve been ready for it, then. 

And, in what has probably used up most of Yoojin’s luck for the year, he’d even come home while Yoohyun was obviously asleep. If he’d walked in to a face full of this thick scent accompanied by sounds of, ah. exertion? Yes, Exertion. Yoojin might’ve left the apartment out of sheer second hand embarrassment and then what would’ve happened? A hungry Yoohyun emerges from his bedroom and crunches dry noodles cause he can’t figure out how the stove works? Too hungry to wait for anything to cook?

Cooking gives Yoojin something to focus on, anyway - something other than the passage of time and his brother’s maturity. What next, Yoohyun moves away for university!?!

No. Ridiculous. They have universities here, why would Yoohyun need to move? 

Halfway through chopping a carrot, Yoojin’s head whips up as a sudden crack echoes through the apartment. He blinks, staring across their small apartment at where Yoohyun’s standing in his bedroom doorway, door thrown open hard enough that Yoojin’ll need to patch the drywall. 

Wait. 

His bedroom.

Yoojin’s own, not Yoohyun’s.

Little brat, he thinks, even as he smiles over at his brother who - even from this distance - is obviously bleary eyed and mostly out of it. Unless his brother had followed Yoojin’s scent to where it was strongest in an attempt to rip him apart, it’s obvious that Yoojin was right in not worrying. Aaah, his cute little brother had obviously been trying to go to Yoojin for comfort! That settles it, when Yoojin calls his brother out of school tomorrow, he’ll call himself out of work. They can cuddle up on the lounge and nap all day long! 

Yoojin attempts to assess how well Yoohyun has taken care of himself in the hours he was at work. Did he drink anything at all? At least he managed to put on comfortable clothes. That old shirt is nice and soft and - 

Yoojin’s eyes spring back up, investigating Yoohyn’s bed head instead of the obvious situation tenting his underwear.

“Hyung,” Yoohyun rasps, stumbling forward on unsteady legs. Even tottering as he is, his height means Yoojin only has a few seconds to put down the knife and wipe his hands before Yoohyun’s in the kitchen. This close it’s easy to see that Yoohyun’s eyes are unfocused from what’s obviously the next wave of his rut, rather than the remnants of sleep. His cute little tiger teeth bared for all the world to see - less in aggression and more with an overwhelming need to bite.

Once he finishes with the food, he’ll have to rummage through the cupboards until he can find the still sealed bite pillow. Then Yoohyun can gnaw to his hearts content, slobbering all over the pillow while he - well. He won’t need the pillow for that, not now that Yoojin’s here, but it’ll still help to soothe him. 

"How're you feeling?" The urge to lock eyes with his brother is strong, to attempt to gauge how he's coping with the influx of new sensation, but he doesn’t want to accidentally aggravate such a fresh alpha. No matter how cute he looks, half pouting and maybe even a bit confused. 

Wait, are those Yoojin’s boxer briefs?

Not that Yoojin looked! He didn’t mean to, it’s just hard not to look!

"Hyung," Yoohyun thankfully repeats, sounding much whinier and breaking Yoojin from his uncomfortable staring contest with something he’s going to pretend he never saw.

“Yoohyun-ah, how are you feeling? Hm?”

As though Yoojin’s voice were the cue he’d been waiting for, Yoohyun crosses the last of the distance between them. Attempts to, at least. His lack of coordination leads him to trip, thankfully within arms reach. Yoojin manages to catch him but can’t stop the momentum, stumbling back a few steps until his back hits the counter. He’ll certainly feel that tomorrow but at least he has a full day of doing nothing but spoiling his Yoohyunnie planned!

Apparently content to have the spinal strength of slime, Yoohyun goes limp and somehow manages to slide out of Yoojin’s grip. Yoojin ignores the unignorable sensation of that dragging across his body the same way as Yoohyun ignores any attempt to keep him on his feet. Finally on his knees, Yoohyun shoves his face against Yoojin's stomach, huffing his scent in with a sudden desperation. If he’d stayed on his feet he could’ve buried his nose in Yoojin’s neck, of course, but this is much cuter!

Running a gentle hand through his brother’s hair, Yoojin waits for his brother to wake up a bit more. It’s not like rut reduces you to an animal, after all; once Yoohyun realises what he’s doing, he’s going to be so embarrassed. Honestly, Yoojin could happily stay like this for the rest of the evening - if Yoohyun wasn’t attempting to hump Yoojin’s leg, of course. 

Once his brain registers Yoojin’s scent, he’ll stop. It’s just that Yoohyun must still be half asleep and his brain’s slow to come back online. Some part of him realises that it’s Yoojin before him, why else would he be inhaling his scent so deeply? He’s just trying his sleepy best to help his brain click into gear and flip to a familial heat. 

That’s why he’s got his mouth open, too. A damp patch pressed against Yoojin’s stomach. Wetting the fabric of his jumper enough that Yoojin can feel it through his work shirt.. 

Yoojin waits, still scritching at Yoohyun’s scalp. Any minute now and Yoohyun will regain some sense.  Yep. Any minute. Any second, even!

A second damp spot is making itself known, against his shin. Right where the thing that Yoojin’s not thinking about is happening. Short, sharp jerks of Yoohyun’s hips; more like a puppy against a shoe than anything else. Yoojin’s basically an inanimate object to Yoohyun, right now. It’s not sexual, it’s just… incidental. Yoohyunnie needs something hard to grind against while his brain reconfigures and Yoojin’s leg is closest. More comfortable than the edge of the kitchen bench, probably. 

Yoohyun's moaning.

Yoojin… doesn’t know what to do with that. His mental refrain of ‘any minute now’ seems to be wearing a bit thin. Is it because Yoohyun woke up in the throes of another wave? Too deep into it by the time he realised Yoojin was home and now his brain can’t quite make the switch? Is it because he’s such a powerful alpha? Should… should Yoojin just let him get it out with the assumption that his rut will switch gears after that?

No, that’s ridiculous. Yoojin can’t stand here and let Yoohyun frot against his shin. If Yoohyun needs, Yoojin can run and get him a pillow! Moving his leg away nets him an extremely distressed whine and, while Yoojin feels himself waver, he hardens his heart. 

“Yoohyun-ah,” he starts, not making the mistake of meeting Yoohyun’s wide eyes. 

“Hyung,” seems like the only thing Yoohyun can say at the moment, entirely out of it. So out of it that he’s lisping around his fangs, which’ve caught the fabric of Yoojin’s shirt. 

“Hyung,” sounds more like begging now; aah, what a needy boy! One last attempt to make this whole situation less… whatever it is now, by attempting to pry Yoohyun’s hands away, ends in failure. Abject failure, even. Not only does Yoohyun produce another devastatingly distressing noise but his eyes have started to mist up! 

What sort of monster could leave Yoohyunnie in such distress?

“It’s okay, it’s okay, hyung’s here,” he soothes, moving his leg back. Within an instant, Yoohyun has begun… using it. Wow he’s, uh. He’s really going for it now. Reassured that Yoojin’s not going to attempt to move, Yoohyun even shifts his grip. One arm wrapped around Yoojin’s waist, the other holding onto Yoojin's leg with something of a death grip, his hips - 

Yoojin’s not thinking about it. He’s ignoring the way Yoohyun’s scent has deepened, how his lower leg is no longer damp but actively wet; he can practically taste the salt of Yoohyun’s pre-come in the back of his own mouth. Yoojin can feel the way he’s bruising under Yoohyun’s hands and he supposes one benefit of being entirely too busy to date is that he won’t have to find a way to explain them to anyone. 

Better if he just focuses on Yoohyun, completely single minded in soothing him. Telling him what a good job he's doing, encouraging him to let it all out. Once he’s done that, then everything will align the way it’s supposed to and the cuddling on the couch agenda can commence. 

"How’re you feeling? Do you want me to find something for you to bite down on?" Yoojin asks when Yoohyun begins to gnaw at his shirt - teeth scraping at Yoojin's stomach which is, hah, certainly a sensation! 

He knows that the likelihood of Yoohyun forming a coherent answer is low but the words give Yoojin something to say to fill the space of the uncomfortably quiet kitchen. Anything that isn’t the quiet burble of the rice cooker, Yoojin’s own voice sounding not quite right - sounding perfectly normal as he reassures Yoohyun, who’d been spooked by the idea of Yoojin leaving, even just to get him something better to bite.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here. You’re doing so well, you know that? Such a good boy for your hyung.”

Anything that Yoojin can say, can do, so that he doesn’t have to listen to Yoohyun. 

Yoohyun who’s panting, moaning, taking deep huffing breaths of Yoojin's scent. It's nice that he's still trying to calm himself down - worried about making Yoojin feel awkward, probably; Yoohyun’s so considerate - but the overall soundscape it makes is. Weird. Not that it's Yoohyun's fault that Yoojin can't seem to focus on anything else! The rustling of fabric rubbing together, the way Yoohyun's breath has started to hitch, the tremble setting into his shoulders.

Yoojin’s barely aware of what’s coming out of his own mouth; it's easy to turn his brain off and praise Yoohyun. Any stream of consciousness muttering that Yoojin finds himself doing is normally about how good and perfect his brother is, anyway. 

“Do you like that? Are you feeling good? It’s okay, keep going. Are you close?”

What the fuck is he saying. 

“Hyung wants you to -” Whatever mistake Yoojin was about to speak into existence is, thankfully, interrupted by a loud, shocked moan. Pain, shallow but electrifying, as Yoohyun bites; ripping through Yoojin’s work shirt and thankfully only barely piercing skin. Wetness soaking his leg while Yoohyun flexes his fingers and works bruises even deeper into Yoojin’s flesh.

"Good work," Yoojin says without thought, brain spinning oddly as he looks down at Yoohyun. His brother hasn't seemed to notice where his teeth are, eyes closed in the bliss of relief, and his hips still lazily grinding against Yoojin's leg. Yoohyun shudders all over a few more times - Yoojin can feel the way the fabric stuck between them is absolutely sodden and only getting worse. Yoohyun’s still coming. 

Absently, Yoojin runs a hand through his brother’s thick hair again and entirely ignores the question of when he’d stopped and what had his hands been doing instead. Not important. What’s important is making sure Yoohyun doesn’t freak out when the overwhelming feeling of rut begins to recede and he realises who, exactly, he’d just - it’s not having sex with, alright? Yoojin was basically furniture, furniture!!

Still, humping your brother’s leg is more humiliating than humping the arm of the couch and Yoohyun needs to make sure Yoohyunnie isn’t scarred for life because of all this! He shouldn’t have thought about his luck, before; of course his want for some embarrassing stories immediately turned into a monkey paw situation. 

Taking his teeth out of Yoojin’s shirt, and only nominally his stomach, Yoohyun attempts to lick at him instead. A mistake, as the texture of fabric against his tongue makes him visibly recoil. Yoojin doesn’t bother to stop the laugh that bubbles up in his throat; what a ridiculous situation. Utterly absurd. If he woke up from this, that would make sense. Maybe he’s having a stress dream about Yoohyun presenting. That would make much more sense. 

Eventually it becomes obvious that Yoohyun is no longer riding out the last of his orgasm and has simply settled into the pleasant haze of post-coital bliss without any of the post-nut clarity that Yoojin had been braced for. The closest he gets is a slight widening of Yoohyun’s eyes as he’d rested his cheek against Yoojin’s stomach but a quick smile was all it took to soothe Yoohyun again, so he doesn’t think that counts. 

Maybe Yoohyun’s rut is just horrifically strong. He’s heard that can happen, to primes. Rare and lauded as the pinnacle of whichever gender they are, Yoojin can already tell that such a thing is vastly overrated if it means being like this every rut. It’s probably a quagmire of pitfalls with little to recommend it; better to not have Yoohyun do the official testing, then. Maybe once he’s older, if he wants to, but right now Yoohyunnie’s too young for all that pressure. Better to simply keep excellent track of his ruts and make sure he’s home in time for every single one. 

Pulling his brother up off the floor once some small amount of sense has returned is honestly just as challenging as everything Yoojin just - participated in feels like too strong a statement. What did he do, after all - he was just furniture. Barely involved in the process. 

Despite his alpha status and his multiple jobs, several of which involve manual labour, Yoojin is not especially muscular. Yoohyun’s bones and muscles apparently have the consistency of soft tofu but the weight of concrete and for once he appears entirely unwilling to help his hyung out. 

Happy to stay where he is, at Yoojin’s feet.

Instead of thinking about that, Yoojin redoubles his efforts to get Yoohyun standing. Eventually, after much struggle and Yoohyun’s continuous grumbling, Yoojin succeeds.

“Hungry?” 

Yoohyun’s stomach answers for him but he seems entirely disinclined to let Yoojin cook. In the end, Yoojin gives up his aspirations of feeding his brother a hot, fresh meal and instead dishing up leftovers. At least the rice is fresh. Even getting that ready was a task and a half, what with Yoohyun plastered to his back like the world’s least convenient jacket. He’d ended up hand feeding Yoohyun carrot piece after carrot piece just to get the kid to stop licking at the side of Yoojin’s neck. 

He chose to be hopeful that such a thing was a sign Yoohyun’s rut was finally seeing sense; what Yoojin himself felt from getting attention to such a sensitive place is entirely irrelevant. Discretion is, as always, the better part of valour so Yoojin doesn’t even try to shuffle his brother towards the dining table. Instead, as soon as the microwave dings, they eat standing up in the kitchen. Yoohyun’s got enough sense to feed himself this time which the teen should be thankful about; Yoojin would’ve brought back the aeroplane like Yoojin was two again. 

Yoohyun the limpet had even made a nuisance of himself while Yoojin was trying to rinse their dishes. An immovable object, no longer capable of being lured by the scent of food. The brat did his best to stay rooted to one spot, Yoojin clutched so close it’s like he was a plush toy. Attempts to scold were met with wide, innocent eyes and a supplicating lick to Yoojin’s jaw - and cheek and neck and ear; what a messy boy his usually meticulous Yoohyun is turning out to be! 

Now that Yoojin knows how much effort his brother puts into his meticulous nature, Yoojin will definitely be even more appreciative of such a helpful and smart brother!

It’s definitely not a problem that his brother is being so affectionate! Yoojin loves when Yoohyunnie is affectionate! Why would there be a problem!

Once the kitchen’s organised as much as he can, even if not clean, Yoojin casts a discerning eye over Yoohyun. He’s sweat crusted, saliva crusted and just… crusted. Increasingly crusted the lower Yoojin’s eyes get, not that he lets them get that low. Yoohyun can keep that pair of underwear. 

If this is what happens after a single day of rut - not even a full twenty four hours, since Yoohyun had been perfectly fine when Yoojin left for work this morning - then Yoojin’s glad the teen won’t have to experience multiple days of it. Since he will, of course, be basking in the calm waves of a platonic rut from here on out. Obviously. Besides, Yoojin isn’t sure if their apartment’s scent proofing could take a full three odd days of Yoohyun’s full rut scent!

This stinky teenager definitely needs a wash but the likelihood of him letting go of Yoojin in order to bathe is, realistically, non-existent. Not that such a thing should be a problem - they’re brothers, after all! Bathing together is fine. In fact, it’s only right that Yoojin helps him wash up so that he can start the rest of his rut off clean! No need for the scent of lust and come to keep hanging around for the next two days. 

On the other hand, the idea of trying to get Yoohyun clean right now has him feeling - feeling like it’s better to simply head to bed. Yoojin just knows his brother will be a brat about bathtime and he’s simply preemptively exhausted by the thought of it. 

Disgusting as it is, a single night crusted with his own bodily fluids won’t hurt Yoohyun. Most teenagers end up like that, sooner or later, so really it’s just letting nature take its course. Tomorrow morning Yoohyun can bathe and Yoojin will run laundry in between cuddling and - 

Wait. 

How much is Yoojin going to have to wash tomorrow? 

“Why were you in my bedroom?” Asking gets Yoojin nothing but a pathetic whine, like a pup desperate to plead forgiveness, and Yoojin doesn’t bother to hide his eye roll. 

“I’m just curious. Did you make a mess in your bed and you went to sleep in mine?”

Another whine. Yoojin wonders if all high level alphas are so non-verbal or if this is just another one of Yoohyun’s quirks. Regardless of the answer, it’s just another cute thing his Yoohyun-ah is doing! Cute and inoffensive and definitely not activating some sleeper agent part of Yoojin’s brain that - 

It’s just cuteness aggression.

When you like something so much that you want to squeeze it. Bite down until it cries and begs and says hyung, hyung, please - 

Ah.

So anyway, Yoohyun’s bed is definitely a mess and Yoojin’s bed is probably a mess. Where are they going to sleep tonight? The couch is good for cuddles but a good nights sleep is impossible. Maybe Yoojin’s bed isn’t too badly off? Yoohyun venturing out of his own room only after the worst of his rut had left, just following his hyung’s scent like a good boy. Maybe Yoojin’s sheets are a little smelly, a stray stain because Yoohyun doesn’t seem to be in the right mindset to remember to clean his hands properly. 

“Alright, I guess we should just head to bed. Do you th-ah! Yoohyun, put me down! Yoohyun-ah, listen to hyung, listen -”

Yoohyun does - but only once he’s carried Yoojin across their apartment and can place Yoojin down into his own bed. His own very soiled bed. How long did Yoohyun suffer through his rut alone that Yoojin’s bed looks like this? 

…How much worse is Yoohyun’s room?

Yoojin firmly pushes the thought of tomorrow’s chores away and instead choses a different battle: dental hygiene. By the time he’s convinced Yoohyun to brush his teeth and brushed his own teeth, Yoojin’s definitely and one hundred percent forgotten about the sight of his own bite pillow on the bed. Yoohyun hadn’t pulled out the new, scentless and entirely inoffensive rut aid from wherever it was hiding but he’d managed to find Yoojin’s. 

Not only found it but used it. That’s… certainly something. Sinking his teeth over and over and over into the only object in the house that reeks of Yoojin’s own rut. Ha. Kids these days, what will they do next. 

It probably scents like both their ruts, now. 

Yoojin’s sheets are covered in come. He’d already known it, having had to peel himself off them in order to head to the bathroom, but it still seems like a ridiculous notion. Stripping it from the bed proves that the thing could likely stand under its own power; Yoojin mentally rearranges their budget to fit in two new sets of sheets. This is a biohazard and he’s sure Yoohyun’s bed is worse if he’d fled it for the greener pastures of Yoojin’s room. 

God, the mattress is probably ruined. At least Yoojin’s is covered by the rut cover that he’d been too lazy to remove. Yoohyun attempts to help make the bed but, in reality, he just throws the top sheet haphazardly over the rut cover and then pushes Yoojin down. Yoojin lets it happen, thinking very hard about budgeting for a new mattress and where Yoojin’s going to sleep until it arrives and absolutely nothing else. 

It’d be sensible to share rather than exiling one of them to the couch until the new mattress arrives but Yoojin isn’t sure. Sharing seems like an oddly dangerous idea, though Yoojin has no idea why. Yoohyun also doesn’t seem to find anything wrong with sharing a bed, seeing as he’s cuddling up to Yoojin’s side this very minute. With the lights off, it’s almost like there’s nothing wrong at all! There is nothing wrong, of course. They’re just a pair of perfectly platonic brothers. 

Except for the way his room reeks of come and sweat and Yoohyun. 

Except for Yoohyun’s erection which Yoojin had first realised had returned when Yoohyun had stood behind him as they brushed their teeth. Yoojin bent over to spit and he’d felt it, pressed right up against his ass as Yoohyun tentatively curled a hand around the nape of Yoojin’s neck. 

Platonically. 

But that was just a weird moment in the bathroom. Everyone knows bathrooms are weird places. What happens in a bathroom stays in a bathroom, even - especially! - if it involves a slow grind and the dawning realisation that something is seriously wrong with Yoojin.

Right now, Yoohyun seems content to cling, face smooshed into the crook of Yoojin’s neck, breathing in his scent. Yoojin appreciates his attempt to soothe his rut down into something, ah, shareable. If it weren’t for the little hitching jerks of Yoohyun’s hips doing their best to subtly fuck up against Yoojin’s side, he might even believe his brother were actually drifting off to sleep. 

If that’s the charade Yoohyun wants to masquerade under then Yoojin won’t ruin it for him. Let the teenager save a little bit of face in this embarrassing situation. They’re both just waiting for Yoohyun’s rut to get with the picture. It’s fine. Probably Yoohyun will fall asleep soon, full of food and still sated by the orgasm he’d finished not five minutes before, clutching at Yoojin’s hips with a bruising grip and rutting against him from behind. 

Not that Yoojin’s thinking about that. 

It didn’t happen. He hallucinated that because bathrooms are liminal spaces where weird things happen. He’d had to discard his underwear along with his trousers and shirt due to unrelated reasons. His own erection will subside soon enough; his own erection doesn’t exist. 

It’s just Yoohyun. Just his brother, his precious dongsaeng. This is a… a… mistake. An accident. A crossing of wires that they’ll both laugh about later or maybe never talk about later but, either way, at least he knows Yoohyun won’t hate him for it. They’ll get through it, together. And if things are a little bit awkward until Yoohyun regains his sense and realises he doesn’t actually want to fuck his own hyung, then they’re a little bit awkward! It’s fine, Yoojin’s dealt with much worse than the affection and attention of his beloved brother. 

So Yoojin waits it out. And waits. And feels his brother grind against him, hears his eager little breaths. Waits, and lets his brother hook a leg over his own in order to get a better angle, a more secure position. Waits and lets Yoohyun kiss and suck at the skin of his neck, teeth scraping the skin in a way that’s electrifying - because of the danger, of course. Alpha are known for biting, for the way hormones enhance their jaw strength; it’d be horrible if Yoohyun bit down. Terrible. He could rip out Yoojin’s throat. 

He could spark a mating bond between them,

Yoohyun moans, breathy and eager. So eager. So desperate and needy, happy for even the barest sliver of indulgence from Yoojin. Every now and again he manages to keen out a word but his vocabulary still seems mostly limited to hyung, repeated ad nauseum. It’s a nice status quo. Yoojin doesn’t have to do anything. Can stare at the back of his own eyelids and pretend that the light streaming in through the gap in the curtains isn’t bright enough to see anything by. Even if he opened his eyes it’d be pitch black inside his room. 

But because absolutely nothing goes Yoojin’s way, it doesn’t last. Yoojin doesn’t break and open his eyes, doesn’t look at the focused, desperate look on Yoohyun’s face - at some point in the bathroom, Yoojin refuses to identify when - Yoohyun had lost that completely dazed expression. He’s still entirely subsumed by his heat. He’s working on faulty instinct alone. If he’d been thinking clearly, Yoohyun would never have pressed Yoojin’s legs together. He was just eager for something to fuck, something to knot. It’s a wrong place, wrong time kind of scenario.

Yoojin keeps his eyes closed and his body still and his hands to himself. He’s furniture. It’s Yoohyun who changes, who manages to find a couple more words past his rut clouded brain.

“Hyung,” Yoohyun begs. “Hyung, hyung, please. Please, hyung.”

If Yoojin could, he’d help soothe Yoohyun’s rut. 

“I want you, Hyung, please let me, please please.”

It’s unfortunate that the best thing Yoojin can do is to lay here, still as a stone. He’s a body pillow. He’s a rut aid. He’s entirely brainless; he’s basically reached a state of nirvana, entirely unencumbered by worldly desires. Yoohyun shudders against him, pushing Yoojin’s shirt up in order to grab at more skin, and Yoojin doesn’t need strength to resist because what is there to resist?

It’s just his Yoohyun-ah. 

“I need you,” Yoohyun nips at his ear and wraps a hand around Yoojin’s own erection and laughs at the very dignified sound that wheezes out of Yoojin’s throat. How can he keep ignoring Yoohyun? It’s not taking advantage, it’s just helping. Just helping. Better to offer a hand now than to find himself bent over again, having a series of very rapid realisations about the things he would let Yoohyun do. Lines he’d never thought about before this afternoon abruptly drawn and redrawn in what had turned out to be sand, washed away with the slightest pressure. 

So Yoojin turns to face his brother, lets their cocks slide together in the hot, wet space between them and counts this as his good deed for the week. It doesn’t take long for Yoohyun to come, coiling around Yoojin like a snake, his teeth entirely tearing open the pillow beneath Yoojin’s head. Yet another thing to add to the ‘needs replacing’ pile.

Through some miracle, Yoohyun drifts off to sleep almost immediately, entirely ignorant to the way Yoojin is still painfully hard between them. If that’s a miracle then it’s by the grace of some god alone that Yoojin manages to escape the steel trap of his brothers arms in order to escape to the bathroom. 

Standing in the dry shower, leant against the wall, Yoojin does his best to jerk off without a single thought in his mind.

He fails. 

All he can smell is Yoohyun, rut scent in his nose and the teenager’s come still smeared against his skin. He can barely feel his own hand around himself, distracted with the way his new bruises seem to throb in time with his pulse; on his waist, his hips, his legs - his neck. Distracted with the memory of Yoohyun’s thumb as it pushed Yoojin’s underwear to the side and touched, pressed - 

Yoojin’s own finger can’t elicit the same electric response but that doesn’t mean it feels bad. He’s never thought about it before, always too busy wrapping one hand around where his knot’ll pop, but it feels good. Light friction against a place so sensitive; thinking about -

Nothing. Just sensation, just the quick build of his own orgasm after holding himself back for so long. 

I’d let Yoohyun-ah fuck me is a stray thought, impossible to suppress. Unlike when he’d had the realisation earlier, in this very bathroom, the horrified shock of it doesn’t numb him. Turning his thoughts elsewhere doesn’t help because he’s so close, chasing his orgasm, and he feels the jolt of pleasure such a thought inspires right along the length of his spine. 

He’d knot, Yoojin knows; without hesitation Yoohyunnie would knot him and Yoojin would feel him come inside instead of just against his skin. He could - Yoojin bites his own lip, hard enough to hurt - he would let Yoohyun do anything to him. Let Yoohyunnie knot his virgin, alpha hole and -

Yoojin stares at his come, dripping down his own hand and the tile, and wonders about the process of getting a restraining order against yourself. He cleans the tile and his hands and instead of sequestering himself to the couch, or walking out of the apartment entirely, he climbs back into bed. 

It’s momentary insanity, he reassures himself. Yoohyun’s rut is influencing his own hormonal balance and making him… something. Yoojin doesn’t know. He was already tired after work and he hadn’t been remotely prepared for how much of a rollercoaster his evening would be. Everything will make sense in the morning; Yoojin will find a way to spin it so that it makes perfect sense. 

All that morning brings is the weight of his younger brother mostly atop him, rutting up against the valley of Yoojin's hip, and he barely gets a chance to mutter a what time is it before Yoohyun's lunging for his neck and Yoojin has to scramble for the bite pillow. Ah, the eagerness of youth!

Yoojin’s last hope - that a night’s sleep would reset Yoohyun’s system; that he’d finally fall into a familial heat - falls away along with the possibility of getting any more sleep. He nudges his leg up until his thigh is pressed firmly against the underside of Yoohyun’s groin and wraps his arms around his brother when he shudders and moans and rips into the bite pillow with more ferocity than Yoojin’s ever employed. 

After that, he lets Yoohyun fuck his thighs again. Pressed face down into the mattress, grinding his own hard cock against the bed and swallowing anything that tries to escape his mouth. Like this he can pretend he’s just helping Yoohyun out, a more extreme version of a helping hand. If he begs his dongsaeng to fuck him, to knot him, to breed him - 

There’s no way to walk that back. It’s not Yoojin who’s in rut, after all. 

Yoohyun doesn’t try to go for his neck again. Instead he sinks his fangs into Yoojin’s shoulders, his back, his ass, his thighs - anywhere with enough meat to get a good grip on. 

After that it’s breakfast and Yoojin lets his brother - well. 

It’s no wonder that Yoohyun left, is it. Two and a half days where Yoojin had the chance to prove himself a good brother, over and over again, and he’d failed miserably. If neither of them ever realised the lengths Yoojin was willing to sink to, maybe a life elsewhere - a life entirely without his hyung - wouldn’t have been so intensely appealing. In obsessive hindsight, Yoojin picks over Yoohyun’s rut and wonders if this was the straw that broke his brothers back. 

Without the long hours where he’d shown them both just how reprehensible he was, would anything have changed? If he’d left the apartment when he’d realised Yoohyun was in rut, would his brother still have left?

If he’d let his brother put more than just his fingers and tongue inside, would Yoohyun have stayed?

By the time Yoohyun’s next rut came, all Yoojin had was a lonely apartment already losing his brothers scent. 

Each swing of the mattock sends another pulse of dull pain through Yoojin. Well, the impact of it against hard earth does; all the swing brings him is awareness of the tightness in his shoulders and all through his back. He’s stronger than he used to be, back when all he was hauling around were boxes and furniture. Illegal dungeon mining necessitated a whole new type of strength, both physical and mental. The strength to hack apart rock and haul it away, and to endure the persistent abuse. 

At least here he’s paid, even if not much; on the street all he can do is take the abuse. 

It’s hard not to be bitter, so Yoojin simply doesn’t try. With every night spent awake due to chronic pain, muscles and nerves spasming relentlessly, he thinks about how much money Yoohyun has, now. How it wouldn’t have impacted his life at all, to have gotten Yoojin the surgery he needed. Physical therapy. Pain meds stronger than the off the shelf crap which is all Yoojin can afford on a regular basis if he wants to eat and pay rent. 

When this job goes to shit, when the crew starts dying and Yoojin realises that he’s not going to be lucky enough to make it out by the skin of his teeth this time… relief is the only way to describe it. He should’ve been dead with his crew years ago and sure, this crew is made up of mainly people he can’t stand, but that’s okay. Yoojin can’t stand himself, either. 

But then Yoohyun -

And now he’s here. Sitting in the apartment he’d long since moved out of, when he’d had to choose between clinging to memories of when his life was happy and making ends meet. He’d near starved himself for months before he’d finally given in. Finally shed the last of the hope that Yoohyun was just… just settling in. Just figuring his life out without his overprotective older brother. Waiting for Yoohyun to call him back, no matter how annoyed Mr. Seok got with him, no matter how everyone in the world knew sooner than Yoojin that he’d been thrown away.

Except that he hadn’t been, had he.

Yoohyun had watched over him from afar, did his best - that’s all Yoojin can ask for. What does it matter if Yoohyun’s best wasn’t perfect? At least he’d tried. It was Yoojin’s own fault for making things difficult for Yoohyun. Yoohyun had been so young, shouldering such a burden, and what had Yoojin done? Made it worse. He always makes it worse. 

This second chance means that he can fix… not everything, unfortunately, but most things. 

It’s even easy, which makes a nice change. 

All Yoojin has to do is stay out of Yoohyun’s way. 

Considering the only reason their lives intersect at all these days - both now and in the… well, he’s in the past. Now and in the future, Yoojin supposes - is due to Yoojin acting like a fool? Yoojin just needs to stay in his lane. Focus on finding work that won’t break his leg in multiple places and cripple him for life. 

The address of the awakening broker is crumpled on his nightstand, date and time marking today as the day that Yoojin would’ve ruined his own life even further. The disappointment of his F-class nature, the beating, the contract - all of that exists only in his mind, now. 

Same as his pain. It’s all in his brain. His legs are perfect - he can jump! He should be able to jump, at least. To walk without a limp. To exist without pain.

So why is it that he’s sitting on the edge of his bed, his perfectly fine and unbroken leg trembling like a leaf? 

It’d taken long minutes for Yoojin to figure out what was going on. That he’d really returned in time. Checking his phone and news articles hadn’t been what tipped his disbelief into elation; Yoojin’s own old bite pillow, kept sealed in an airtight bag, was. 

Yoojin used to keep it in his bedside drawer, the last precious shreds of his brother. Those rut pillows are designed to trap and hold scent, the same type of scent retentive fabric that parents use when giving their kids scent dolls. More expensive than other types of bite pillow and the only reason Yoojin had one was that it’d been a special sale. An ugly pattern that was so hard to sell that the store owners had gotten sick of it taking up space. By the time Yoojin bought it, there’d been no doubt in his mind that Yoohyun would also present alpha, no matter how little he’d actually thought of his brother’s presentation. 

Two good quality bite pillows for the price of less than one? Yoojin hadn’t been fool enough to walk away, even if he’d had to skip lunch a couple times in the aftermath. Even if Yoojin had been the only person to use both of them. After Yoohyun’s first rut, Yoojin hadn’t been able to use that bite pillow again. It had Yoohyun’s scent, the only thing capable of holding it so well in the entire apartment, so Yoojin made himself use the other one. 

Someone broke into his apartment and stole it, the last piece of Yoohyun’s scent.

It’s not why they broke in originally, he knows. A bunch of his things were destroyed, some threatening messages scrawled onto the wall, pictures of Yoohyun stolen - pictures of Yoojin’s apartment taken before all of that, thought, to sell to the paparazzi along with the knowledge that he’d kept his younger brothers bite pillow and preserved it so it still had a scent. They’d moved it under his pillow before they’d photographed that. 

Brother of Haeyeon Guildmaster, Pervert?

That was the kindest of the headlines. Once the storm erupted, accusations of incest and pedophilia were thrown in the ring fairly quickly, followed by speculation about a myriad of horrible things that could’ve happened to Yoohyun before he became strong enough that his measely F-class brother could never hurt him again. It’d made Yoojin’s blood boil because he would never have hurt Yoohyun like that, not ever! Except… that’s not quite true, is it? He’d never thought he could hurt Yoohyun like that but then - hadn’t he? 

The most inflammatory accusations came from the magazines who make enough money off sensationalism that they only ever care about defamation when they’re sued for it. It makes sense as to why they’d assume they wouldn’t have to worry about such a thing from Han Yoojin - it wasn’t hard to figure out that he’s broke, that he can’t hire a lawyer, that he’s an easy punching bag. 

Surprisingly, this was the only time that Yoohyun made a public statement about the perpetual smear campaigns launched against Yoojin. He launched a defamation lawsuit and won handily, closing down a couple of magazines within a single month. Yoojin heard, over and over again, that it wasn’t out of concern for Yoojin, it was just because such a rumour also had a strong negative impact on Yoohyun. On Haeyeon. 

Is it irony, that the only accusation that Yoohyun squashed was the only one that was true?

Yoojin is a pervert. 

He did keep that bite pillow just so he could bury his nose in it during his rut, teeth buried deep into the only thing that still scented like his brother. Pretending to himself that it was for a pure hearted reason had lasted until his first rut after Yoohyun left and then died a swift, inglorious death. Squeezing his own knot and imagining it was Yoohyun around him instead. Remembering the was Yoohyun had sounded when he was desperately in rut, when Yoojin ran a hand through his sweaty hair and told him how good he was; the sound he made when Yoojin wrapped a hand around him for the first time, the way he cried and begged and promised to be good so long as Yoojin didn’t leave - 

That particular memory soured over the years. Each time he thought of Yoohyun begging him to stay, all Yoojin could remember was the way he’d been left behind. 

None of that matters. It’s all in his brain and only his brain. For everyone else in this world, it never happened. Yoojin is disliked but not yet hated. Has yet to be painted with the brush of a deviant who pants after his own brother. Has yet to cause Yoohyun so much stress, so much anguish. Yoohyun has never died and he’s alive right now, living and breathing and entirely unaware of the way he’d sacrificed himself for Yoojin. He’ll never need to do such a thin again, Yoojin’ll ensure it, he’ll - 

Collapse.

His bad leg folded out from under him almost the instant his foot had hit the floor. Pain radiating up through his hip, settling into his lower back. Double checking the date, the unscarred state of his own leg - going so far as to open the sealed bite pillow and inhale the faded scent of his brother, mere fabric so much lesser than the Yoohyun he’d clutched so close not too long ago - Yoojin had confirmed his return to his past. 

So why is his leg unable to take his weight? Why is his bad leg still bad?

Every attempt he makes to walk ‘normally’ over the next hour does nothing but make him long for oblivion. Muscles spasming, joints on fire, every part of this apartment suddenly feeling criminally far away. There’s no walking stick leant next to the bed. No precisely arranged furniture for him to cling to on the way to the bathroom. 

Just the too large apartment he hadn’t set foot in in years and his own body failing him, again. 

Staring down at his perfect leg, Yoojin wonders if this was a hidden cost of travelling back through time or if it’s just psychosomatic. So many years living with previously unimaginable pain and his brain simply… can’t figure an existence without it. Forcibly imposes it on him, neurons misfiring in an attempt to get back to that shitty status quo. 

For days Yoojin limps around his apartment, waiting for his brain to readjust to his new reality. To understand that this leg can hold his weight, can walk without pain, can do everything an able bodied twenty five year old can do. All he gets is the mild relief that at least he can sleep longer than three consecutive hours, unmedicated. His leg - his traitorous brain - still wakes him up at night but only once or twice. He can get back to sleep afterwards, too, which is a boon so unexpected that he’s still shocked every morning when he wakes up with his alarm.

Eventually, Yoojin realises that it’s been four days since he returned to the past and if he doesn’t go shopping soon, he’ll have an entirely different problem on his hands. Plus, he needs to find another job because his ‘savings’ are barely worth the name. Once he buys a walking stick and a trolley bag, he’ll be lucky to get to the end of the month - and it’s already the twenty-fourth.

Luckily, there’s no shortage of shady jobs going. 

No, no, Yoojin sighs, he can’t go back to what he used to do. Isn’t he trying to be less of a burden on Yoohyun? Yoojin will simply need to find a proper job. He’s wiser now, if not technically older, so surely he can find something. 

He’s also got a newly fucked leg and exactly the same lack of qualifications. 

Worst comes to worst, he can probably move to the countryside. Becoming a seasonal labourer will be hell on his leg but it can’t be any worse than mining, plus he’ll have the added advantage of his leg being fucking fine, just too stupid to know it. Worst comes to real worst, Yoojin will take up another less than legal job - but only for a little while. And he’ll be smart about it, won’t get caught, won’t make trouble for Yoohyun. He knows better than to try for his brother’s attention, now. No matter how he longs to see him, Yoojin will continue to keep his head down. 

In fact, since he’s been back, he’s kept his promise to himself admirably well. He won’t bother Yoohyun, hasn’t made any trouble at all!

So why, on his slow way back from his shopping trip, is Kim Sunghan attempting to usher him into a car? From experience, Yoojin knows that refusing won’t deter the man. Making a scene won’t deter the man, it’ll only cause problems for Yoohyun, so after a minute or so of fruitless questioning he gets in the car. They don’t even let him take his groceries home first and it’s this which Yoojin raises before Mr. Seok even opens his mouth. 

“You’re going to reimburse me for part of my groceries.” Hey, Yoojin said he wouldn’t make any trouble for Yoohyun. Mr. Seok isn’t Yoohyun.

“No, we won’t be.”

“I’m happy to smear all the melted things over the windows of your lobby if you don’t.” Yoojin wouldn’t, but only because he’s more mature than his past self. The him of a week ago - both in this life and his other - probably would have. He’s pretty shameless and not above being petty, when pissed off. Lucky for him, Mr. Seok is well aware of the depths to which Yoojin will sink. The older man clicks his tongue, already frustrated, and Yoojin marks that as a win in his own column. 

“Show my secretary the receipt and we’ll compensate you only for that which has been rendered inedible.”

And then, before Yoojin can get another word in, he says, “Your leg.”

“Which one?”

“It appears as though you’ve injured yourself.”

“Have I?” Yoojin wonders, like he’s not leaning heavily against a cane. Even with the elevators, Haeyeon guild is not a small building. Having to walk all the way to Mr. Seok’s office after running errands has taken its toll on him. 

“Your ploy to gain Mr. Han’s attention has not gone unnoticed but it will not have the effect you want. You’ve annoyed him, again. Cease this charade before you anger him.”

All Yoojin can do is laugh. 

“Sure. I’ll get right on that.” He looks down at his own stupid leg. “Better shape up, buddy, Mr. Seok’s maaaad.”

“Don’t be so puerile.” Mr. Seok stands and rounds his desk, apparently not content to look down his nose from such a distance. Yoojin tries to figure out what’ll make the man more aggravated. Maybe he shou-

A scream wrenches itself from his throat before he’s even realised. Pain burning out from his leg, his hip, so much that Yoojin’s vision blurs. Staring at the ceiling, the intensity of the pain ebbing away, Yoojin puts the clues together. Mr. Seok, wholeheartedly believing that Yoojin’s faking an injury, had kicked the cane out from underneath him. An able bodied person might’ve been able to catch themselves, probably. At worst they would’ve fallen with little consequence.

What a prick.

An odd sound. Louder than the ringing in Yoojin’s ears. A repetitive sound which is… vaguely familiar? There’s a rhythm to it that he recognises. Fire alarm? Is that why he can scent smoke? Blinking a couple of times doesn’t help him to hear better but it does help his vision clear. The black blur above him is not the ceiling, or a sign of brain damage; it’s Yoohyun, face like a furious, concerned storm cloud. 

“Hyung! Hyung, are you okay? Where are you hurt?”

Yoojin can barely breathe through his relief.; has to stop himself from burying his nose against the closest part of Yoohyun just to scent him. To remember what he smells like unbloodied, free of the lingering stink of death. 

Yoohyun’s alive, he’s alive, he’s okay. He’s real enough to put one hand tentatively on Yoojin’s shoulder, the other hovering awkwardly in the air near his chest. Yoojin could cry about it, if tears hadn’t already sprung to life at his sudden reacquaintance with the floor. Maybe he’ll cry about it anyway just… later. Once he’s at home, where his overflowing emotions won’t make this harder on Yoohyun. 

God, Yoojin being here is enough to make a mess of Yoohyun’s careful plans. At least this isn’t Yoojin’s fault, this time - he blames Mr. Seok. The man’s got a very hateable face!

“‘M fine,” he rasps, ignoring the way his heart feels like it’s about to jump out of his chest in pursuit of Yoohyun. Oh, also ignoring how his leg feels like it’s on fire. He hadn’t had time to brace himself at all, or attempt to land on anything other than his bad side. Awakened speed is no joke, even without Mr. Seok being an S-class. 

“I heard you scream from my office.”

“Shouldn’t have skimped on the soundproofing,” Yoojin mutters before he can catch himself. Yoohyun’s eyes go big and hurt and all Yoojin can do is sigh and reach out to give his brother’s hand a conciliatory pat. For a second, it’s like nothing ever went wrong between them. And then Mr. Seok clears his throat and Yoohyun begins to superheat the air around them. 

“What the fuck did you do?”

“Yoohyun-ah! Language!” is Yoojin’s automatic response, for all he wholeheartedly agrees with the sentiment. Yoohyun’s a good boy so he, of course, mutters a quick sorry, Hyung before he’s even thought about it. Aah, how did Yoojin let Yoohyun and his own bitterness fool him for so long? Of course it hurt Yoohyun to be away from him, too. Of course Yoohyun still loves him - even if, even if only the way he should. As brothers - what else would they be, haha. 

“All evidence indicated that Mr. Han’s had suffered no injury.”

“You kicked my fucking cane. I should sue.”

“You’re fired,” Yoohyun hisses, apparently entirely unmoved by Mr. Seok’s instant appeal on his own behalf. Yoojin’s similarly unmoved but, unfortunately, mounts a defence of the older man. A lackluster defence, to be sure, but it must be done. 

“Don’t do that, Yoohyunnie. He’s useful to you.” Based on the shallow glance Yoojin had had of the last eight years of Yoohyun’s previous life, Mr. Seok - bastard though he is - is truly loyal to Yoohyun and one of his most valuable staff members. Getting rid of him would be a massive blow to Yoohyun and Haeyeon as a whole. 

“Hyung, he hurt you.”

“The ground hurt me; he’s just a prick who needs to take a sensitivity course.”

“Hyung -”

“All of this ‘hyung, hyung; make it seem like you still -” Yoojin cuts himself off before he says ‘care’ because he knows Yoohyun cares about him now. He’s seen it. He’s felt it. Pain makes him an even worse person than he already is, though, and the sentence had escaped before he could even think about it. Watching the way Yoohyun’s mouth quivers, his eyes blowing wide with shock, is truly devastating. Their relationship isn’t this bad yet, is it? Yoojin can’t remember when it devolved so far that harsh words between them overwhelmed everything else - that harsh words from Yoojin were the only communication left between them, shouting at Yoohyuns apparently uncaring back. 

A blank, unconcerned mask slams down fast enough that if Yoojin hadn’t been watching so closely, that’s all he would’ve seen. How many times have his harsh words hurt Yoohyun and he’d never noticed? He’s such a poor excuse for an older brother. 

“Help me up,” Yoojin says once the minute stretches and it becomes clear that Yoohyun won’t say anything at all. Yoojin doesn’t apologise; that would defeat the purpose. It’s better for Yoohyun if Yoojin stops trying so hard. If he makes it a clean cut. Neither one of them will be happy about it but at least it won’t hurt Yoohyun as much, like this. What happens to Yoojin doesn’t matter, so long as his brother’s doing well. 

Yoohyun holds him like he’s made of glass and lifts him to his feet as though he’s made of paper. S-classes really are ridiculous. 

“My cane,” he points at it. Mr. Seok bends to pick it up only for Yoohyun to growl at him, causing the man to take a few hasty steps away. Yoojin wobbles in place as Yoohyun releases him in favour of retrieving the cane but manages to stay steady. This body isn’t quite as used to being stable on one foot but it’s learning quickly. Yoohyun passes him the cane and watches, still silent, as Yoojin slowly eases some weight onto his bad leg. 

It’s. Bad.

But he keeps his face blank - no guesses where Yoohyun learnt to do that - and then turns it into an absent smile. 

“You should get back to work. Just because you run the company doesn’t mean you can slack off, Yoohyun. Set a good example.”

“Yes, Hyung,” Yoohyun replies, perhaps by rote, before his eyes narrow. “I’ll see you out.”

“No, it’s okay. You go first. Mr. Seok will help me to the door.”

“ Help you? I thought you were fine.”

“Figure of speech.” Yoojin insists. “I’m fine.”

“Walk to the door.” Yoohyun tilts his head and Yoojin realises that the door is in two distinct pieces with uncountable splinters dotting the ground. Also, the hinges are warped almost beyond recognition. 

“Yoohyun -”

“Hyung.”

The stalemate doesn’t last very long, if only because Yoojin’s uncomfortably aware of how little time he has before he needs to sit down. Preferably on a comfortable surface with a delicate arrangement of pillows of bunched blankets to keep everything as supported as possible. There’s no way he’ll be home by then, but at least he can get out of Yoohyun’s line of sight. All he has to do is fake it til he makes it. Seeing as that’s been Yoojin’s strategy since their parents were alive, he’s pretty confident he’s got this. 

“Fine. I’m leaving.” Yoojin grits his teeth into a smile and turns towards the door. 

One step. Terrible pain in his leg. 

Second step. More pain.

Third. His gait is now distinctively uneven. Also, pain. 

Four - hands grabbing him by the waist.

“Yoohyun, don’t you -”

Too late. Yoojin stares at the floor from his uncomfortable position slung over Yoohyun’s shoulders. He refuses to look up and see what Mr. Seok thinks of all this. Worst of all, it’s more bearable than his obviously lackluster attempt to walk to the office door. 

“I’m taking you to a doctor.”

“I can’t pay.”

“I’ll pay.”

“No!”

“Hyung!”

“Yoohyun, I just need to lay down. Once I get home, I’ll be fine, okay? Put me in a taxi if you want to pay for something so bad.”

“Your buildings elevator’s broken.”

Yoojin sighs instead of asking how Yoohyun knows, because he knows how Yoohyun knows. They really are too alike, sometimes. Yoohyun just has the money to have other people do his stalking, and ensure that it’s comprehensive. Yoojin has to rely on the internet to keep up to date with what his brother’s doing. 

Entering the elevator, Yoojin expects to exit into the lobby. Perhaps whatever level Haeyeon’s doctors are, if he feels like bending the rules for his decrepit older brother. The short elevator ride and shorter walk instead lead him to - Yoohyun’s apartment. 

Placed gently down onto the ridiculously expensive lounge, Yoojin stares up at his brother and wonders what to say. Where to even start. 

Well, where he actually starts is to look around for a blanket in order to prop his leg up correctly. If he's already here, he might as well get comfortable while he - okay he doesn't know what he's going to do, given his usual routine of shouting is officially off the table forever. Yoohyun scurries off when asked and it's obvious the blanket he comes back with was previously on Yoohyun's bed. The scent of it, pressed up against Yoojin’s skin, is going to linger for days. Yoojin’ll make sure of it, since this is the last time he’ll see his brother in person. Maybe he can convince Yoohyun to give him the blanket?

Maybe he can get away with finding Yoohyun's current bite pillow and stealing it.

“I’m sorry for being such a bother,” Yoojin decides to start with. He doesn't have a speech planned for this because his plan had been to simply never be in another room with Yoohyun until his brother reached out first. “I know you’ve done your best. I’m proud of you. I love you.”

In the most baffling turn of events since time travel, Yoojin somehow finds himself living in Yoohyun’s apartment.

As an F-class.

Fuck. None of Yoojin’s plans carry any weight, do they?