Chapter Text
Song Taewon sat stock still, perched as he was on the tiny plastic chair in the office of a discreet doctor employed under the Hunter Association, and tried not to crush the armrests beneath his fingers.
“Are you serious?” he asked.
The doctor nodded with a slight grimace.
“You cannot keep taking suppressants, Song Taewon-ssi.”
“Not even the scent suppressors?” Song Taewon asks. A chill creeps down his spine as the doctor shakes his head.
“No,” he sighs. “Usually this wouldn’t be as serious a problem, but since you have been taking the heat suppressors for years without pause the hormone blockage has built up until it is dangerously unstable. I believe you have noticed your emotions becoming more volatile lately, and some waves of dizziness and heat flashes?”
Song Taewon nods.
“That’s why I booked an appointment. But there is seriously no other way?”
“No.”
Something must show on his face, because the doctor gives Song Taewon a smile that attempts and fails to be reassuring.
“We have special institutions for omegas who wish to spend their heats alone, as well as reinforced rooms that can stand up to a feral A rank hunter in strength. Your heat won’t be an issue, Song Taewon-ssi.”
Song Taewon shakes his head. “That won’t work for me. My heats are very violent.”
“Do you have anyone you can spend it with then?”
He thinks of gold and black.
“No.”
The doctor looks at him steadily, but Song Taewon refuses to give any ground. His emotions must really be slipping if the other man was able to catch a single thought.
“Well, if you think of anyone you should tell them. This is, after all, going to be your first heat in—years?”
“Almost a decade.”
“...indeed, which means that you will go through a period of extreme emotional turbulence and a period of fever like sickness. It is highly recommended that you have someone you can trust with you, especially for omegas, who are stabilized by the presence of a loved one.”
Song Taewon shakes his head again, and forcibly loosens his grip on the plastic armrests before he bends them, placing his hands in his lap instead. “I don’t have anyone. The rooms will not hold me either. I will take a month off and confine myself in the nearest national park.”
“Ah,“ his doctor flounders, unable to understand his plan of action, but persists. “Well, obviously your case is a special one as you are one of the only S-rank omegas in the world, but I do not think we need to go as far as that now.”
“Better to be over prepared than risk the safety of the populace.” Song Taewon says. His fists clench.
“W-well, as long as you clear it with the government, then I guess it should be fine.” Song Taewon can see the doctor visibly quail, looking at his white-knuckled fists in his lap and immediately looking away.
“Very well.” Song Taewon ignores the dizziness as he stands up. “Thank you for your assistance, Park-seonsangnim.”
“Ah, no problem. Let me write you a slip before you go.” his doctor says.
Song Taewon is in the middle of packing his things, a month-long vacation verified and cleared with the Hunter’s Association with another week of leeway for his recovery in the aftermath and in the case that his heat lasts longer than expected when he hears his doorbell ring. He closes his luggage and goes to answer it, curious. No one was supposed to come by until several hours later to take him to the airport, after all.
Song Taewon opens the door just in time to see the first hint of platinum and slams it shut. His door is kicked off its hinges a moment later.
“Song~ Tae~ Won~” Seong Hyeonje, the thrice damned bane of his existence, calls cheerfully into the living room. Song Taewon curses from where he is braced behind his mildly smoking door, laying against the couch and looking up to confront the man.
“Seong Hyeonje-ssi.” he says.
“Ah, there you are!” Han Yoojin exclaims. Song Taewon blinks as the shorter man ducks from behind Seong Hyeonje where he was completely hidden and comes up to him, holding a large duffel bag.
“We heard about your month-long health break and I wanted to come over to check that you were alright, and bring you this.” he says, pressing the bag into his hands. Song Taewon unzips it and sees a pack of condoms on the top.
“Seong Hyeonje’s idea.” Han Yoojin tells him wryly.
“I wanted to help you decompress!” says the headache. Seong Hyeonje comes over and loops his arms around Han Yoojin’s shoulders, putting his chin on top of the younger man’s head like a headrest and smiling innocently at Song Taewon. Han Yoojin simply rolls his eyes and bats at Seong Hyeonje’s cheek limply, clicking his tongue.
Song Taewon takes the condoms and drops it into his living room trash can, making Seong Hyeonje pout. The rest of the bag, however, is surprisingly helpful, from a first aid packet that looks hospital level to two pairs of fuzzy socks, a nice blanket, and even a box of instant coffee. Song Taewon also catches a glimpse of a case, the letters emblazoned on it for blue light blocking glasses before he lowers the bag and looks down at Han Yoojin.
“Thank you very much, Han Yoojin-ssi.” he says. “I appreciate your care.”
Han Yoojin smiles back. “No problem. I just hope the association lets you come back soon.”
Song Taewon blinks. “What?”
“Didn’t you piss them off so bad they sent you away?” Han Yoojin doesn’t even pause when he says so.
“No?”
“Wait, so it's an actual health emergency ??” Han Yoojin’s eyes widen and he surges forward, knocking his head against Seong Hyeonje’s chin with a swear and then ducking out from the other man’s arms to reach for Song Taewon’s forehead.
“Are you okay?? What kind of disease could knock someone like you down for a month?” he demands, then gasps aloud. “Is it contagious? Do I need to tell Yoohyun to avoid this area for the next month?”
“What about me?” Seong Hyeonje asks.
“You’re already contaminated, Hyeonje. Let me call Yoohyun right now—“
“—it’s not anything like that.” Song Taewon grabs Han Yoojin’s wrist gently and removes it from his forehead, stopping the entire affair before it careens off the rails. “I’m just taking some time off for a personal issue.”
Han Yoojin looks at him with open worry written into every line in his face.
“Are you sure?” his nose twitches slightly. “You’re not going to slink off somewhere and die right? I understand that your apartment kind of smells like rot but I’m sure you can stay and recover here instead.”
“I cannot,” Song Taewon says.
Seong Hyeonje narrows his eyes suddenly and steps forward.
“It’s not his apartment that smells of rot, Yoojin-ah,” he says, stepping around Song Taewon and scenting the air, “it’s him.”
Han Yoojin stiffens. “What?”
“Stop.”
“What’s wrong, Taewon-ssi?” Han Yoojin grabs onto his wrist, not letting him pull back.
“I won’t drag you into this.” Song Taewon refuses to meet either of their eyes.
“Whatever it is, I think the two of us are more than strong enough to handle it, don’t you?” Seong Hyeonje asks lowly. Song Taewon shakes his head.
“It is not a matter of strength.”
“And it’s has nothing to do with the Hunter’s Association.” Seong Hyeonje muses.
“Does it have to do with your omega status?” Han Yoojin asks. Song Taewon turns hot and then cold in a single moment.
“How do you know about that.”
“Ah… I could just tell?” Han Yoojin looks between Song Taewon and Seong Hyeonje curiously. “I haven’t told anyone though, was it a secret?”
“I knew as well, it was in your file.” Seong Hyeonje adds in helpfully.
“My secondary gender is not in my file.”
“Not your public file.”
“Hyeonje! Did you hack into a government database and look at Taewon-ssi’s private information?” Han Yoojin smacks Seong Hyeonje’s chest with the back of his hand as the older alpha circles back to him, looking up at him with a disapproving expression.
“Taewon-ssi, don’t worry. Neither of us ,” a pointed look to Seong Hyeonje, “have or will tell anyone about your secondary gender. But are you—?” Han Yoojin suddenly gagged, taking an involuntary step back from Song Taewon and slapping a hand onto his nose and mouth. Seong Hyeonje caught him as he staggered and wrinkled his nose as well.
“Ah.” Song Taewon felt a white hot knife stab right into his core, and his knees buckled, hitting the floor with a dull thunk. He barely caught himself on one hand before he faceplanted, the other bracing against his heart as he gasped for breath.
Heat burned through his entire body, every nerve lighting up and screaming at the same time. Song Taewon heard twin distant groans through the thundering of his heartbeat in his ears but he couldn’t bring himself to even look up through the haze.
His heat was coming, and several days ahead of schedule as well.
“Get out, quickly.” He rasped. The last thing he saw was a set of polished leather shoes, stepping into his line of sight right before everything went black.
Seong Hyeonje caught Song Taewon as he collapsed, gagging quietly as the full brunt of the rotting scent hit his nose. Han Yoojin was there a half second later, gently but firmly pressing the scent gland on his wrist against Seong Hyeonje’s nose as his other hand went to support Song Taewon’s shoulder.
“Taewon-ssi?! Are you okay? What just happened??” He asks frantically. His hand flutters from Song Taewon’s shoulder to his neck and then to brush aside a stray bit of dust from the unconscious man’s face and then back down to smooth over his upper back in short, panicked motions. Seong Hyeonje shifts Song Taewon’s weight to rest the man’s face against his shoulder, looping one of his arms around the omega’s waist so he wouldn’t slide to the floor and catching Han Yoojin’s wrist with the other.
“Calm down Yoojin-ah. I’ve seen this once before.” Seong Hyeonje tells him. He tries to breathe in as much of his lover's scent as possible from the wrist pressed under his nose, exhaling through his mouth as he speaks. “His body is flushing out an overload of suppressants from his system all at once in preparation for his heat. This must have been why he scheduled that month-long vacation.”
Han Yoojin blinks, the sour scent of his worry growing slightly fainter.
“Heat?” he asks. “But that should only take about three or four days, a week at most. Why would Taewon-ssi need a month?”
The two alphas grimace as one as Song Taewon groans quietly, a renewed wave of rot and mildew pouring out and taking over the room.
“I’m not quite sure,” Seong Hyeonje drawls, “but from the level of rot pouring out from our Taewon-ssi here, I’m guessing this has been building up for quite some time.”
“Ah. Yeah, no disagreement here.” Han Yoojin takes a sharp breath and instantly regrets it, yanking the collar of his shirt up with his free hand and putting a little more pressure onto the wrist at Seong Hyeonje’s nose. “Let’s get him in bed, I think I have some scent-blocking masks back home we can use.”
“We’re coming back?” Seong Hyeonje gets up carefully, leaning forward to sling Song Taewon over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry while being careful to move slowly enough that Han Yoojin can keep his wrist pressed against his nose.
“Of course we’re coming back.” Han Yoojin blinks up at him. “There’s no way I’m going to let Taewon-ssi suffer this alone.”
“Ah, of course.” Seong Hyeonje says. “And what do we do if, or when, he goes feral?”
Han Yoojin rolls his eyes as Seong Hyeonje starts down the hall, rising onto his toes to bump the older alpha’s shoulder a little awkwardly. “That’s what I keep you around for isn’t it? We need to at least check in with Taewon-ssi before we do anything big, and restraining him is probably the best way to keep him still so we can talk.”
“Ah, so forceful Yoojin-ah, tell me more~” Seong Hyeonje purrs and playfully nips at Han Yoojin’s sleeve, breathing in the scent of cinnamon and something soothing.
“Bastard. Stop getting frisky when Song Taewon is literally passed out in your arms.” Han Yoojin clicks his tongue at him irritably. His cute lover doesn’t move his wrist though, still shielding his nose. Seong Hyeonje snickers.
“Yes, yes, come along now Yoojin-ah.” Seong Hyeonje strides down the narrow hallway to Song Taewon’s bedroom, Han Yoojin keeping pace next to him.
“Uh-huh. And you know the layout of a government official’s apartment well for a good reason I assume.”
“I am nothing but the most upstanding of citizens and I take offense at any assumption otherwise.” Seong Hyeonje sniffs.
“Uh-huh, upstanding citizen. And I’m a donkey.” Han Yoojin responds, the snark clear even muffled behind the collar of his shirt.
“Why Yoojin-ah, I knew you were feisty but I had no idea you were an ass as well,” Seong Hyeonje responds, and Han Yoojin huffs.
“You’re the ass. Stop stepping in front of me and let me open this door already.”
“Anything for you, love.” Han Yojin dodges around Seong Hyeonje to open the door to Song Taewon’s bedroom, letting the older man move past him before stepping in himself.
It is a barren place. Looking into the room Han Yoojin gets the feeling that even before Song Taewon packed his possessions it had been mostly empty. Han Yoojin pushes down the dim sense of sadness for now in favor of moving ahead to pull back the covers, letting Seong Hyeonje maneuver to face the side of the bed.
The two of them had just gotten the omega off Seong Hyeonje’s shoulders and properly into his bed when Song Taewon stirred, opening eyes so dilated that Han Yoojin couldn’t tell the difference between pupil and iris. Silver chains shot out of Seong Hyeonje’s sleeves in the next second, wrapping around Song Taewon’s arms and chest as the feral omega lunged towards the older man with sharp teeth fully bared, hands clenched into fists so tight his knuckles cracked. The scent of rot intensified again, rolling over the two alphas in a potent wave and making them both growl defensively.
Han Yoojin breaks out of it first, giving his head a harsh shake and rushing to put himself between Seong Hyeonje and Song Taewon. He grimaces as he looks into the clouded eyes of Song Taewon, and pulls his shirt down from his face in a quick yank.
“Taewon-ssi.” He says, careful to keep his voice low and calm. “You’re in your bedroom right now with me and Seong Hyeonje. You know me, don’t you? We—“
A notification for fear resistance pops up and is promptly ignored as Song Taewon surges against his restraints, snapping his teeth just a few inches away from Han Yoojin’s face. Seong Hyeonje snarls out loud and the younger alpha slams a hand against his chest from behind, not daring to break eye contact with Song Taewon. His other hand comes up to cradle Song Taewon’s cheek, careful to keep any concern out of his scent as he brings his gland close to the omega’s face.
“—we just came over to check in on you. It’s okay, you’re safe Taewon-ssi. Just focus on me. Breath in,” Han Yoojin inhales exaggeratedly, fighting to keep the grimace off his face as rot flooded his nose, “and then breath out. Slowly now.”
He exhales just as exaggeratedly, watching closely as some of the haze fades from Song Taewon’s eyes and his breathing begins to even over the new few repitions. Seong Hyeonje stays stiff and wary behind him, the snarl dying down to the occasional shift even as Song Taewon twitches harshly on his next inhale, tense muscles relaxing and pushing the omega’s head just the slightest bit into Han Yoojin’s hand.
“—and in… and out.” Han Yoojin repeats. Song Taewon exhales quietly, one last twitch making the chains rattle before he suddenly collapses against his restraints, every muscle turning limp.
“Are you back with us now Taewon-ssi?” Han Yoojin asks quietly. The omega takes a sharp breath.
“Yes.”
Seong Hyeonje relaxes the chains enough to let him sit up properly, resting limp hands in his lap as the chains pool around him in the bed, ready.
“…thank you very much for the assistance.” Song Taewon says, voice low and even.
“Ah…” Han Yoojin visibly hesitates, debating whether to give the man some space or keep his hand on his cheek. His internal debate is interrupted when Seong Hyeonje slumps forward and puts his chin onto the younger alpha’s head with a close-eyed smile, knocking him forward and making his hand slip from Song Taewon’s cheek.
“Good afternoon Taewon-ssi,” he purrs, “care to explain what just happened?”
Song Taewon grimaces and looks down at his lap for a second, meeting their eyes in the next.
“Taewon-ssi?” Han Yoojin asks gently.
“…My heat is almost here.” Song Taewon admits, grudgingly.
Han Yoojin raises an eyebrow. “Your heat… smells like rot…?”
“It’s all the suppressants he’s been taking, Yoojin-ah.” Seong Hyeonje speaks before Song Taewon can, purposefully grinding his chin into Han Yoojin’s head as he talks. Han Yoojin absently bats at Seong Hyeonje’s face, fishing out the other man’s tie from behind his head and bringing it in front of him to cover his nose.
“My apologies for the smell. This wasn’t supposed to happen until Monday,” Song Taewon grimaces as well, shifting slightly to adjust the collar of his shirt. “I’m afraid my heat is setting in early. Please leave and call the Hunter’s Association.”
“I’m not going to leave you to suffer by yourself, Taewon-ssi,” Han Yoojin insists, voce slightly muffled by fabric.
“What can you do to help me?” Song Taewon asks. A hint of bitterness breaks through his tone before he composes himself again. “I won’t indebt myself to you so easily, Yoojin-ssi.”
“This isn’t a matter of debt or not, how could I just leave you here?” Han Yoojin asks.
“I assure you I won’t be a danger to my neighbors right now. If you could just call the association for extraction—“
“—You aren’t a feral animal! Were you just going to do this alone in some random place?!” Han Yoojin bursts in. “What if you got injured and infected? You could die and nobody would know out there!”
Song Taewon’s brow furrows, his scent naturally intensifying along with his emotions. Han Yoojin bristles but refuses to back down, instead burying his nose a little further into Seong Hyeonje’s tie.
“I will not risk the lives of citizens—“ he is cut off again by Han Yoojin.
“—there are containment facilities—“
“—which cannot hold me—“
“—special training grounds—“
“—those are valuable resources—“
“— you’re a valuable resource—“
“—not for the next two weeks—“
“—we can simply be your heat partners, no? Then you can return the favor when our ruts hit.” Seong Hyeonje pipes up from where he is burying his nose into Han Yoojin’s hair, cutting both men off. Han Yoojin’s mouth shuts with a click.
“Huh?” Song Taewon asks, eyes wide.
“We would be even then, no debts necessary.” Seong Hyeonje nuzzles into Han Yoojin’s hair, stalwartly avoiding breathing in anything else. Han Yoojin remains silent as he looks at Song Taewon, his face still but ears a bright, fire hydrant red.
“Come now Yoojin-ah, don’t be shy. It’s not like we haven’t talked about it before.” Seong Hyeonje tells the younger man, pinching his ear playfully.
“Aish, why would you just tell him that-!” Han Yoojin bursts out.
“We both want him, so now it's up to Song Taewon-ssi to decide.” Seong Hyeonje turns golden eyes down to the omega frozen on the bed, quirking a single well-trimmed brow. “If he wants us back, that is.”
Han Yoojin stills his flailing and looks up to where Song Taewon sits on the edge of his bed, watching them both with barely concealed shock.
“Taewon-ssi, I,” he begins, but trails off into awkward silence when he fails to think of anything else to say. He looks down again and worries at Seong Hyeonje’s tie with his teeth instead.
“If you want us, we would be glad to accompany you through your heat,” Seong Hyeonje says cheerfully. His hand sneaks around and catches Han Yoojin’s chin, tilting it up to face Song Taewon again.
“Come on Yoojin-ah, won’t you ask properly?” the older man purrs. Han Yoojin growls and squirms against his hold, refusing to look at Song Taewon.
“Yoojin-ssi…”
The two alphas still as Song Taewon speaks, both focusing on him attentively.
“I will not be in debt to you.” he says. “I do not wish to hurt you either, if I go feral during my heat.”
“We don’t have to worry about that, Taewon-ssi,” Han Yoojin responds, still avoiding his gaze.
“Our Yoojin-ah will be completely safe and sound with me here.” Seong Hyeonje confirms.
Song Taewon nods after a short pause. “Then I will rely on your help for now, Yoojin-ssi, Hyeonje-ssi.”
Han Yoojin furrows his brows, craning his head back to exchange a quick glance and nod with Seong Hyeonje before looking at Song Taewon with a small smile.
“I think you can just call us without honorifics, if we’re going to be heat partners for the next two weeks.” he says.
“Then please do the same for me. Both of you,” Song Taewon says.
“Well, you do have to fully flush out the chemical remnants of your suppressants first, especially because your heat is coming early.” Han Yoojin patted Song Taewon’s back a little awkwardly, eyes crinkled behind his scent-blocking mask. The omega just groaned, visible shivers racking his body even as he was fever hot underneath three different blankets.
Seong Hyeonje came into the room carrying a small tray laden with a steaming bowl of soup, a small spoon and a cup of water, setting it down on the floor next to Song Taewon’s bed.
“Let’s sit you up, yes? Get some soup into you,” he said cheerfully.
Song Taewon whined as he was shifted up, Han Yoojin cradling the back of his head and shoulders while Seong Hyeonje stood up a pillow to rest behind his back and helped him move. He felt both hot and cold in alternate flashes, a thick haze clouding his mind and dulling his senses. His nose was congested beyond belief and it felt like an entire construction crew had taken up residence in his head, beating a constant rhythm against the inside of his skull.
Seong Hyeonje crooned a bit as the alpha leaned back, reaching down to grab the tray and carefully setting it into Song Taewon’s lap.
“Are you okay to eat it or can I hold the spoon?” Han Yoojin asked. He kept a hand on the back of Song Taewon’s head as he spoke, fingers absently running through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. Song Taewon blinked muzzily at him.
“Hyeonje,” Han Yoojin whispered out of the corner of his mouth.
“I think feed him,” Seong Hyeonje whispered back.
Han Yoojin nodded and stood up from his perch on the edge of the bed, shifting to straddle Song Taewon’s knees on the other side of the little table.
“Is this okay, Taewon-ssi? It’s a little easier to reach like this,” he said, keeping most of his weight off the omega and balanced on his knees. Song Taewon nodded absently, another wave of cold making him huddle deeper into his cocoon of blankets.
Seong Hyeonje snickered. “You’re well used to being on your knees, isn’t that right?”
“Ah, shut up,” Han Yoojin snapped back. He dipped the spoon into the soup and blew on it carefully, muttering under his breath, “like you haven’t been on the bottom enough times.”
Song Taewon snorted and accepted Han Yoojin’s spoon of soup, sipping carefully at the liquid.
“Thank you for the soup,” he rasped. Seong Hyeonje kept poking Han Yoojin’s side, but he also looked up at him.
“No problem!”
Song Taewon could see his smile even behind the scent-blocking mask, and he sipped his spoonful of soup in silence.
“How long before your heat sets in properly, Taewon?” Han Yoojin asked in between spoons. Song Taewon hummed through his current mouthful.
“Getting cramps already, so I think another few hours, max.” He said as he swallowed.
The omega couldn’t help but inhale as Han Yoojin leaned closer, breathing in the scent of concern and warmth and alpha behind the gradually lessening scent of rot. The two men had taken off their scent suppressors a few minutes ago, doing their level best to cover up the sickness and mildew with their own scents instead. Han Yoojin’s scent had long mingled with Seong Hyeonje’s and it was even more obvious in close quarters like this, speaking without words of the long hours the two of them had spent together.
Song Taewon couldn’t help but to yearn for that with every fiber of his being.
“Drink some water,” Han Yoojin said, setting down the spoon. The rim of the glass was cool against his mouth and Song Taewon couldn’t help but lip at it, feeling his gut clench as Han Yoojin’s eyes dilated and bringing his own hand up to tip the water into his mouth. Seong Hyeonje whistled softly.
“Waow~”
“…you should take a nap, Taewon,” Han Yoojin said. His eyes glinted. “You’ll need the energy.”
Song Taewon blew out a long breath.
“I have no doubt.” he said.