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this night together - chapter five (j.yh + s.mg)
chapter five: not so easy to ignore
chapter summary: things at the studio turn out just about as bad as expected, but wooyoung takes you under his wing and introduces you to some new friends.
warnings: references to a/b/o dynamics such as heat and knotting and designations, alcohol/drinking, angst, sad vibes, but also good vibes?, reference to work place sexual harassment but not like you think
notes: thank you all so much for your kind feedback on this fic. i'm having an absolute blast writing it, and i'm so thankful for all the people giving it a try even tho this genre isn't their thing! that means a lot. this is the last chapter i have written in full, so chapter six may take a little extra time. i'm about to hit a few insane weeks of work, so i'll do my best but please be patient with me. there's a lot more chapters to come though, i promise.....
pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader
genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory
word count: 6.9K
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As it turns out, you can’t just go back to being friends. When you wake in the morning you still feel sick, and your first thought is to wonder if Yunho does too. Maybe Mingi feels the same, but was better at hiding it. Maybe you’ll get to the studio and they’ll take you in their arms like a movie and kiss the breath out of you and hold you close and tell you they should have never, ever driven you home. But you doubt it.
You’ve been in love before, and you’ve had crushes before that. You’re no stranger to getting tangled up in emotional webs, it’s just usually not with people you work with and it’s usually so much easier to walk away. Or run, as you’re used to doing. This body, this designation, this biology, it makes everything always feel so confusing and artificial. Do you want them or does your omega? Do you need them or is it just the after effects of heat?
It’s a lot easier when you lie to yourself.
You’ve been dealing with this biology all your life. That’s all this is, and after a little time and a little distance, your body will catch up to your mind and stop feeling this way about them.
You take those aching feelings and lock them away tightly and then you get up. You shower, you take a deep breath, and then you buy yourself the fanciest coffee you can think of despite the absolute lack of funds in your checking account. This momentary serotonin will be worth the overdraft fee if that’s where it puts you, you need this.
By the time you get to the studio, you’re pretty confident that you’re over them, convincing yourself that it was just fun, good sex. Great sex, even, but still just sex.
But the minute you see Mingi every stitch of the resolve you knit for yourself unravels, and he looks surprised to see you even though it was part of the plan that you’d return today. He leaves the room before you can even open your mouth and try to say something innocuous and you know right then and there you were right all along. It was never going to be that simple.
Yunho blushes when he sees you, his ears turning a dark shade of pink and for a second he trips over his words addressing the wider group.
Mingi avoids your touch when you cross his path at lunch, offering you just a quick hello and then he’s gone again.
Instead of searching for their eyes, you start to get really comfortable with the wood grain of the floor and do your best just to focus on yourself. You’re working on something new, and a week ago you would have stayed late to fine tune your understanding of the choreography with Mingi while he waited on Yunho to wrap up in the back office, but you know those days are gone.
When practice ends they disappear, and you’re left to pack up by yourself. You give it a few minutes, thinking maybe when the rest of the crew trickles out maybe they’ll come to you, but they don’t. So much for being adults about this. You blink back hazy tears as you pull on your jacket, focused on packing up as fast as you can now just to get the hell out of this room.
You don’t even hear him coming up behind you.
“Come on,” Wooyoung says with a roll of his eyes, “we’re going for drinks.”
“I really should get home,” You glance over at him as you finish packing up your bag.
“I’m buying,” Wooyoung counters, “so you really have no excuse.”
What you really want is to go home and bury yourself under the covers for the foreseeable future. Every awkward second glance with Yunho was making you want to curl into a ball and every moment Mingi spent pretending he barely knew you made you want to go home and cry. An entire day filled with almost sentences and troublesome glances and all you can tell yourself is that you knew it, you were right all along.
You don’t answer Wooyoung, and instead you just can’t help yourself, you look behind you towards the back office, but neither of the men you want to see are there.
“Are you really so afraid of making friends you’re turning down free drinks?” Wooyoung prods your side, “That’s really fucking lame of you,”
“Wooyoung,” You sigh, your head dropping back.
“It’s fine,” He says, his voice lilting up in a sing-song, “I thought you were cool,”
Your jaw tightens.
“And I’m not usually wrong,” He goes on, “but it’s fine, I’m man enough to admit when I’m wrong, and you, y/n, are lame.”
“Fine!” You snap up and meet his eyes, “Fine, I’ll come, but just one drink.”
“Excellent,” He smiles, and you’re starting to get the sense that Wooyoung doesn’t really take no for an answer ever.
“One drink,” You repeat.
“Yeah,” He shrugs off, “come on, get your stuff, we’re meeting San at 1987.”
“Where?”
“Bar,” He brushes off your question without really answering, “let’s go,”
Wooyoung turns on his heel without a second thought, and he’s off. You have to jog to keep up with him to get out of the building, and he’s mostly quiet until you hit the evening street outside. He slows to a casual pace and turns his head to you when he says, “You like San, right?”
The question catches you off guard, “Of course,”
Wooyoung smiles, “He’s definitely all business at work, most of the time, but don’t worry.”
“Why would I worry?” Your brow furrows, every interaction you’ve had with San so far has been perfectly pleasant, albeit professional.
“I just mean he’s fun,” Wooyoung corrects himself, “he’s just really serious about the work,”
“You’re all kind of like that,” You point out, “mostly,”
“Right,” Wooyoung nods, winding his way through an alley and you divert off the main street to follow him as he leads you through the back way to their regular spot.
“He takes training really seriously,” You offer, “but I think that’s good. We could all hurt ourselves if we weren’t following his plans,”
Wooyoung grins, “Oh, he’s going to like the sound of that.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm,” Wooyoung lays a hand softly between your shoulder blades to direct you through a small crowd, “follow that up with how handsome he is and you’ll get special treatment forever.”
You laugh sharply, “Noted.”
He points ahead, “Just up there,”
At the far end of the alley is a hanging neon sign, the ‘7’ in ‘1987’ flickering intermittently. It’s not as flashy as some of the other bars or restaurants along the street you’re walking, but that looks to be part of the charm. As you make your way up to the door and inside, Wooyoung is quick to greet a few people on the sidewalk, throw a wave to the bartender, and he throws around names and details to you faster than you can pick up on them.
San waits at a table in the far corner, two light, wheat beers already waiting on the table. When he glances up from his phone and sees you both his eyes widen but he smiles pleasantly.
“Hey!” He smiles, standing and pulling a chair out for you, “I didn’t realize you were coming, I would have ordered you something,”
“I’m not crashing plans, am I? Woo didn’t say,” You glance between them.
“Not at all,” San shakes his head, gesturing for you to sit, “you’re more than welcome. Seonghwa should be coming too at some point,”
“Oh,” Your stomach does a little nervous flip flop.
“Chill,” Wooyoung interrupts your thoughts immediately, “have a drink, make some friends.”
You smile, taking your seat and letting San push it in for you so you’re settled at the table before he returns to his own place, gesturing for the server’s attention, “What’s your drink?” he asks you.
“Whatever you’re having is good,” You make it simple.
San smiles and points to their glasses before holding up a finger and silently communicating to the server that they need one more. He’s more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him, now outside of work full of easy, confident energy.
“Well,” Wooyoung smiles and takes a long sip of his drink, “this is nice,”
“Yeah,” You’re not entirely sure what you’re doing here, but you might as well go with it, “thanks for letting me tag along,”
“Mm,” San’s eyes are trained on the serving staff but he nods, and then stands as your server approaches, meeting them halfway and taking the beer, thanking them profusely for running it out so quickly. When he returns to the table he presents your drink with ease, “There we go,”
“Thank you,” You nod, accepting the cold glass, and now that it’s in your hand you’re grateful to have the drink after the day you’ve had.
The sip is calming, cool and crisp, and you sigh as you swallow, not realizing the way you’re being watched by both men.
Wooyoung’s words nearly knock you sideways, and a tiny piece of you is grateful he waited until you finished sipping your drink, “So, how was your heat?”
You cough anyways though, just the idea that someone would say it so brazenly, and in public, “What?”
“Youngie,” San slaps him with the back of his hand, “you can’t ask her that,”
Wooyoung ignores him, leaning forwards with his elbows on the table now, “The perfume isn’t helping as much as you think,” he says and you blanch, “and I’ve never seen Yunho stare at someone for so long in my life, so,”
He barely met your eyes all day, and your head snaps up, “He was staring?”
His mouth quirks up on one side and San swivels his head towards you. Wooyoung nods, “Like a puppy,”
“Fuck,” You breathe.
Both their eyebrows raise.
“Sorry, sorry,” You lean back in your chair, hiding your face in your hands. So much for a convenient story about them having the flu.
“You can curse,” Wooyoung laughs, “I just didn’t expect you to admit it that fast, I thought I’d have to pry it out of you.”
“Oh, this is so bad,” You groan.
“Why bad?” San asks, “Yunho’s nice,”
You sigh, still hiding your face.
“He’s easily one of the best guys I know,” San continues, “and there’s nothing that says we can’t date within the company, we’re not idols,”
“Oh god,” You groan again.
“Is it so bad he has a crush on you?” San asks.
Wooyoung breaks into hysterics and your hands fall away, a blank, open expression on San’s face as he tries to pick up on the joke. You wince, shaking your head, “It’s worse than that,”
“Worse,” San repeats, still slow on the uptake.
“Woo,” You find his eyes with yours, “please don’t make me say it.”
He sobers quickly, and takes a swig of his beer, “Right,” he faces San, “Yunho had the flu, but it wasn’t really the flu. They were heat partners.”
“Oh,” San says, “oh,”
“Exactly,” You sigh.
There’s a beat and then San’s brow screws up in confusion, “Didn’t Mingi have the flu too?”
Heat tints your cheeks pink instantaneously and you look down at your glass, suddenly focused on the tiny bursting bubbles at the top of your beer. You brace yourself for their reaction.
“Holy shit,” Wooyoung breathes, “y/n, you’re a god,”
“What?” Your head snaps up.
“Both of them?” Wooyoung shakes his head, “Tell me everything,”
“You don’t have to do that,” San interrupts him again, smacking the back of his arm, “he’s needlessly curious, but you know, you don’t have to share if you don’t,”
The words flood out of you, a small piece of you thankful that you don’t have to hold this whole thing inside yourself forever, “I went into heat at the studio,”
“What?” Wooyoung’s face softens, and you know that he understands just what that means. The anxiety, the fear, all of it.
“This is embarrassing,” You sigh.
“Then you don’t have to,” San tries again, wanting badly to save you from any further humiliation or pressure.
You ignore him and hold Wooyoung’s eyes, “Friends, right?”
He nods.
You swallow hard and then take the leap, “I can’t afford my suppressants right now,” you start and his eyes soften more, “I thought I had rationed them right, but after the recording it hit me like a truck.”
“I knew you seemed off,” Wooyoung says softly, “then what?”
“Mingi found me in the locker room, and then he got Yunho, and they made sure I got out of there okay,” You lean back, crossing your arms and biting the inside of your lip.
“Sharing your heat was unplanned?” Wooyoung clarifies.
“Yes,”
“And it was,” He searches for the right words, “I mean… were they okay? Everything was okay?”
You know what he’s asking without asking, and you nod, “Completely, it was more than okay, they were…”
“They’re both good guys,” San says, “it’s good they were there.”
“Yeah,” You breathe, before snapping yourself out of own head and reaching for your beer again, “anyways, yes, so they took me back to their place and now it’s four, five days later and everything’s so fucking awkward,”
“Hmm,” Wooyoung murmurs, “and it was good?”
You nod, lips pressed tight together in a line.
“Oh, it was too good,” Wooyoung grimaces, “yikes.”
“Right,” You sigh, “and Yunho and Mingi both made it pretty clear that this was a one-time casual sex thing, which is fine, but also you know how heat goes. Everything is all jumbled up now,”
“Mm,” Wooyoung nods, and then his eyes shift to above your head and he grins, “Hwa, right here!”
Park Seonghwa appears a moment later, a warm smile on his angular face and he pushes a lock of dark black hair behind his ear as he finds an open seat and slides into the table, “Hey,” he greets, and then turns to you, “hi, y/n, nice to see you outside the studio,”
“You too,” You smile.
San once again repeats his process for getting Seonghwa a drink, and your stomach tightens as you think about what Wooyoung might say in front of this man you barely know.
“It looks like I interrupted something,” Seonghwa says a few moments later when everything is still quiet and hanging still.
Wooyoung doesn’t say it, he just holds your gaze intently and raises an eyebrow as if to say - Can I?
You sigh, catching Seonghwa off guard, and then you nod.
“y/n just got back from heat leave,” Wooyoung turns to Seonghwa to explain, “with Yunho and Mingi.”
You expect a sheepish or embarrassed reaction, someone quick to divert the conversation away from sex, but it turns out you don’t know Seonghwa as well as you thought. He merely makes a noise of acknowledgement and glances to you, “How messy are things, then? They were both being weird today,”
“I don’t know,” You answer honestly with a sigh.
“They said they wanted it to be a one-time thing,” Wooyoung says, “but is the problem that you like them? Or one of them?”
“I can see that,” Seonghwa smiles, “Yunho kind of oozes perfect boyfriend,”
“It’s not that,” You shake your head, words bubbling up as you try to make sense of it, “it probably shouldn’t have happened at all, and I’m new, I don’t want to make anything weird or uncomfortable, but we spent like four days together… it was intense, and now I just feel like I can’t not think about it when I look at them,”
“Intense, good?” Wooyoung quirks a brow, nudging you under the table.
“Woo,” You sigh, “I’ve never felt like that,”
“What do you mean?” He asks softly, the two alphas at the table going silent to watch you both.
“I don’t know what it is about them,” You confess, “but the entire time all they did was make sure I was okay, they were so tender and kind, and when I left I just wanted to go back.”
“Oh,” Wooyoung murmurs, “you’ve got it bad,”
“My hormones are just out of whack,” You shake your head, “you know what it’s like. Have an alpha tell you they want to give you pups enough times and your brain short circuits,”
Seonghwa shifts in his seat and San clears his throat, but Wooyoung just laughs.
“Anyways, yes,” You take another sip of your drink, “I spent my heat with them, had the best sex of my life, and now I’m sitting here with a stomach ache because I don’t know where they are right now. I feel like the universe is playing a trick on me,”
“Wait,” Wooyoung starts to say, but you’re on a roll now, the single beer hitting just a little harder than it should have.
“Working here, with all of you, was my dream. I just think it’s funny that I haven’t even been here for three months and I’ve already managed to fuck it up, because now everytime I look at Yunho all I can hear is me begging him to claim me, which is insanity, pure and complete insanity,”
“Wait,” Wooyoung repeats again, hands up and out trying to get you to slow down, “I thought it was casual heat sex,”
“It was,” You resurface from your own panicked rambling and realize just how shocked the table looks, “what?”
“You asked Yunho to bite you?” Wooyoung asks, and when you nod he says, “and right now, how do you feel?”
“Fine,” You knee-jerk answer, “but, a little anxious I guess?”
“I don’t know how to explain this,” He says, looking to the two alphas for help who both shake their heads.
“Why do I feel like I’m missing something?” You glance between them.
“Okay,” Wooyoung claps his hands together, “listen, I have never asked Sannie to give me pups. I have never asked him to bite me, and I have never, ever, gotten all dizzy and sick when he’s not around.”
“Hey,” San grumbles, “I think she gets it,”
“I don’t,” You manage.
“What you had is a lot more than heat sex,” Wooyoung finally settles on, and your stomach drops.
“Woo,” You shake your head again, “no,”
“I’m serious!” He insists, “How else do you explain it,”
“You’re so dramatic,” You roll your eyes and reach for your drink, but find the glass empty, “it was good, really good, but that’s all it was.”
“He’s not wrong,” Seonghwa interrupts, his deep voice still calm and easy, “sometimes connections are just stronger. Scents match better, you know, everything just clicks. It doesn’t mean Yunho’s your soulmate, but if the pull is there, then there’s something there.”
You ignore the pull and flash him a weak smile, “Not for them.”
“Them,” Seonghwa corrects, “both of them?”
“I know,” You bury your head in your hands again.
“y/n,” San’s hand lays softly on your forearm, “no matter what happened, Yunho and Mingi are both still the guys from a few days ago. They’re still good men who care about you, even if that’s just as a member of the crew or a friend.”
“Can I ask a question?” Seonghwa interrupts.
“Sure,” You sigh, lifting your eyes to his.
“How do you know they don’t want you too?”
The question makes you feel awful, and you catch Wooyoung’s sympathetic look in your peripheral vision and nearly lose your composure, but the truth of it is simple. You clear your throat softly and straighten up, “They said so,”
“Oh,” He nods.
“And I’m not even sure I want them,” You tack on, “I don’t even really know them,”
Silence stretches at the table, and San’s eyes flick from yours to Seonghwa.
“Then let’s get another drink,” Seonghwa finally says, “let’s get your mind off it, and let’s have a good night. I know things are awkward at the studio, but don’t let them be. Just focus on the work and yourself and make some friends, and this whole thing will just be a funny story,”
You nod and sigh, “Okay,”
“Yeah,” Wooyoung offers, “a month from now no one’s going to remember,”
It’s around the third bar when someone brings it up again. You’re several more drinks deep, learning so much about the group dynamics that you can’t get while inside the studio walls. Wooyoung is quick to peel back all the layers for you now that you’re actually out with them and not just pushing it off a little longer for the sake of your wallet.
Leaning across the expanse of the table Seonghwa gets your attention with a drunken tap on your arm and his eyes narrow, “What’s this about you not being able to afford your suppressants?”
“What?” For a second his words don’t compute.
“Your meds, your suppressants,” He gestures, a little beer tipping over the edge of his glass, “why aren’t you on them?”
“I will be soon,” You lean in closer to hear each other over the music, “insurance window,”
“Ah,” He nods, “so what’s your plan next time?”
“Next time?” You turn your head so that his mouth is closer to your ear.
“Next heat,” He clarifies, a little slur in his speech, “while you’re onboarding,”
Your eyebrows shoot up at his words, “I don’t really know, I guess,”
“Mm,” He nods.
“Why?” You scoot your chair closer.
“I’m assuming you don’t want to,” His voice gets swallowed up by Wooyoung shouting something over the music and you shake your head.
“What?” You squint, shifting closer, bracing your hand on the table by his glass to steady yourself.
“Go back to Yunho and Mingi!” He all but shouts, “I’m assuming you don’t want to do that,”
“Fuck no,” You groan, “I’d rather take care of it myself than deal with feeling like this,”
“What about me?” He says and you laugh, but you don’t really know why. He clears his throat and shakes his head, sobering himself just a little, “Seriously,”
“What about you, what?”
He rolls his eyes, “Help with heat, I help Woo, San and I both do,”
“Oh,”
“Only if you need a hand,” He smiles, round eyes shining and kind, “or you know, a knot in this case,”
You clap a hand over your mouth and can’t help but fall apart into giggles, “You’re serious,”
He quirks his eyebrow at you, dropping his drink back onto the table so he can draw an X over his chest with two fingers, crossing his heart.
“What are you doing over there?” Wooyoung interrupts and your head snaps to the side, “Making a blood pact? You’re both trashed,”
“I am not trashed,” You insist, even though you can feel yourself slipping off the chair you’re on inch by inch.
“You’re allowed to be,” Wooyoung pushes a shot of soju towards you, “you’re broke and in love,”
“Wooyoung!” His words strike panic through you, “Seriously, stop that,”
“Alright, alright,” He throws up his hands, “broke and and in lust, whatever,”
San’s lips curl up in a half smile at his friend’s words. His eyes are closed, and he’s swaying a little from side to side, jerking back to center every now and again when his equilibrium feels too sideways. It’s entirely possible Wooyoung is the most sober one here and that thought makes you burst into laughter. San’s eyes fly open at the sound.
“I was offering my services,” Seonghwa cuts in, like he had been thinking about what to say that entire time and finally found the words.
“Your what?” Wooyoung laughs.
“For her next heat,” He explains, waving his hand like it’s simple addition, “my services,”
“Seonghwa,” San shakes his head sharply, “stop.”
“It’s not as if I’m with someone,” Seonghwa replies, holding San’s gaze intently, and for a split second it’s obvious there’s some kind of a backstory behind them all or their friendship or just Seonghwa himself that everyone knows and you don’t, but it isn’t the time to ask.
“Yeah,” San says a little gruffly, blinking hard to shake off the alcohol, “well, this still isn’t the time.”
Wooyoung wraps it up smoothly, “We’re all too drunk for this,”
“Exactly,” You take a moment of solace in the cup of soju.
“I mean it though,” Seonghwa tears his eyes away from San and a hand drops onto your knee, “you’re pretty, I’m pretty, just keep it in mind,”
There’s almost no way he’ll remember this tomorrow, so you let him off the hook with a smile and a hand on the side of his cheek, “Thank you, Hwa,”
“That’s what f-friends are for,” He hiccups lightly, and then you watch his eyes unfocus as the dizziness floods his vision and he drops his head unceremoniously onto your shoulder, “oh, God, I’m drunk,”
“There it is,” Wooyoung grins.
You slip forward as Seonghwa’s weight drops onto you and you brace yourself on the edge of the table, but San swoops in, “Come here, hyung, stop hanging on her,”
“Hmm?” Seonghwa’s eyes look tired when San gets him off you and over his shoulder, “Sannie?”
“Yeah,” San softens, “it’s just me,”
“I think I need to lie down,” Seonghwa murmurs, his head falling onto San’s ready shoulder.
“I know, hyung, I know,” San softens, and then turns to the table, “can we go?”
“Yeah,” Wooyoung stumbles as he gets up but then straightens, tucking himself under Seonghwa’s other arm once he gets his feet under him, “y/n, you good?”
You pull yourself up too, knocking back the final shot of soju so it doesn’t go to waste and pulling on your jacket, “Good,”
In the cool night air outside the bar everything gets dizzier, more watery and hazy, and something in your gut pulls hard. For a brief passing moment you wonder what Yunho and Mingi are doing right now.
San’s saying something and you shake yourself out of your stupor, “What’s that?”
“I said, where do you live?” He lets Wooyoung take more of Seonghwa’s weight as he turns his focus to you.
You give him your address, “I can call an Uber,”
“I live kind of close,” He nods, “let me take you,”
“You really don’t have to,”
“It would make me feel better,” San brushes you off immediately, “we’ve all been drinking, you shouldn’t be alone,”
“What about him?” You nod towards Seonghwa.
“I got him,” Wooyoung assures, “we live in the same building.”
“You sure?” San checks, “We can all go together,”
“It’s the opposite direction,” Wooyoung shakes his head, “and I’m tired, this just makes more sense,”
San nods and then checks on Seonghwa once more, “Make him drink some water, okay?”
“Yep,” Wooyoung salutes, rolls Seonghwa into an Uber, and then they’re gone.
Leaving you and San alone on the sidewalk.
“Let me get a car,” He says, shaking off some of his lingering drunkenness and pulling out his phone.
Of the three men, you talked to San the least. As the night had stretched on, you found yourself sidled up with Seonghwa or talking across the table animatedly with Wooyoung, but San seemed to give you a little space. He was also the one who commented the least on your recent sexual escapades and now standing in the middle of the street with him and him alone, you have no idea what you’ll talk about.
You watch as he types into his phone, lets it search, and then his nose crinkles, “Twenty minutes,”
“Oh,” You push up on your tiptoes to see his screen, “damn,”
He thinks for a minute and then sighs, “You want to walk a bit? I need to sober up a little anyways,”
“Sure,”
“Hungry?” His brows perk up.
“Definitely,” You smile.
“There’s places in our direction,” He waves you on, and you fall into lockstep with him as you wind out of the alley and back into the city streets.
It’s quiet for a moment, and you know one of you has to break the silence, but mercifully he gets there first, “You’re a good dancer, you know,”
“So are you,” You glance up at him, and he smiles.
He’s handsome, especially like this with his cheeks tinged pink with the night of drinking and his hair falling in his eyes. He directs you forward across an intersection and then looks down to keep talking, “You pick little things up really quickly, it’s impressive,”
“I appreciate that,” The alcohol seems to be less pervasive now that you’re out of the loud club and walking some of it off and you sigh, “honestly, I was staying late with Mingi a lot of nights. He was helping me catch up,”
“Ah,” San nods, “that makes sense,”
You keep walking. Normally you can get a conversation going without any problems, but with the alcohol and the late night and the fact that you really don’t know San all that well, you’re tongue tied.
He sighs heavily and looks at you, like he had been weighing whether or not to say something and finally chose to just do it anyway. “Don’t worry about what Seonghwa said,” He manages, “he was drunk, and I’m sure he wouldn’t have wanted to make you uncomfortable.”
“Oh,” Your stomach knots up, “he didn’t,”
“Good,” San nods, looking relieved, “he’s a good man, he’s,” San searches for his words for a moment, “not the type to proposition a coworker, that’s not what,”
“Oh!” It makes sudden sense why San was being so careful, offering to walk you home and trying to keep Seonghwa in check, “No, San, that’s not at all what I thought,”
“It’s not?” His eyebrow quirks up.
“No, I mean,” Your gaze falls away from him, “it probably should be, but I know he meant well. Plus, I know you both help Wooyoung,”
“Well,” San shakes his head, “that’s a little different,”
“Because you’re all men?”
He smiles, a little sheepish, “No, I was going to say because we’re old friends, but I guess there’s that too.”
“Ah,” You turn towards him, “well, really, you shouldn’t worry about me like that. Hwa was just trying to be a good friend, and I’m sure he won’t remember it tomorrow anyways,”
He sighs, relieved this time, “Good, okay,”
“Is that what you were worried about?” You ask.
“Between that and Woo practically interrogating you,” His nose crinkles again, “that part of your life is private, he shouldn’t pry like that.”
“I would have told him to stop,” You shake your head.
“I hope so,” He says, “I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable with us after everything you’re dealing with. We like you in the crew,”
“You do?”
“Definitely,” He twists to meet your eyes, “you have fire. I saw it in the audition tape,”
Blush flushes your cheeks, “Thank you,”
“I’m just being honest,” He smiles.
You smile back.
It gets easier the more and more you walk with San. The alcohol slowly dissipates in both your systems, and after a few more blocks the idea of street food seems even more appealing. He refuses to let you pay and you only protest once, albeit weakly, before he gives you a simple shake of the head and takes care of things without another word.
It’s a thirty minute walk, especially at this meandering pace, but eventually you make it back to your block, and you don’t know what possesses you to turn the conversation back to Yunho and Mingi and everything it means but you do. He’s less shy to discuss it now, especially after enough time getting to know each other and sinking into a conversational rhythm.
By the time you make it to your apartment walkway, your corn dog is half eaten and your previous anxiety about talking to San is gone entirely. You gesture up to your building, “This is me,”
“Nice,” He comments, and then he takes a seat on your stoop and looks up at you, expectant.
“What?” You ask at his expression.
“You weren’t done, come on, tell me the rest,” He leans back against the railing, stretching out his legs.
“Right,” You remember yourself, flopping down onto the step next to him and running a hand through your hair, “where was I?”
“Yunho reminding you of your ex,” San prompts you.
“Ah,” You shake your head, “I mean not really, my ex was an asshole, but… I guess I didn’t know that for a long time. I thought he was nice, I thought he was the right guy.”
“And Yunho’s nice and the right guy?” He smirks.
“No, no,” You wave your hands, “fuck, I’m not making sense with this at all.”
“Can I guess?” San turns his body towards you a little more.
You nod.
“When your heat was over,” San’s expression is almost a little apologetic as he addresses it directly, “did you all agree it was just sex?”
“Yes,”
“And that you could all be adults about it?” He adds.
You nod again.
“And today you were all awkward as hell and avoiding each other?”
“Basically,”
“Listen,” San rests his hand on your knee, “I don’t know what your ex did or didn’t do, but they’re not that guy.”
“I know,” You sigh.
“But I get it,” San interrupts, “it feels like you had this connection and everything was good and now they’re pretending you don’t exist, and how is that different from any other guy?”
He has you there. You manage a nod.
“Well, I don’t know how they feel about you,” He offers, “but I promise you they’re just as embarrassed as you. It’s easy to say you’ll stay friends and that the lines won’t get blurred, but they always, always do.”
You study him for a moment, at the way he’s speaking so genuinely and it dawns on you, “You speak from experience, I’m guessing?”
He looks down and away, nodding before he brings his eyes back up to yours, “Yeah,”
“Woo?” You guess softly.
After an entire night of watching them lean against each other, touch each other, talk amongst themselves in their little bubble, you’re shocked when his mouth turns up into a sad smile and he shakes his head, “No, Woo and I have figured out how to make this whole thing easy,”
“Oh,”
“Wooyoung loves me, but he’s not in love with me.” San clarifies.
“And you?” You ask softly.
“He’s my best friend,” San says confidently, “and I’ll never let him be in pain,”
“But?” You nudge him.
“It was a long time ago,” He shakes his head and for the first time all night you know he’s told you a lie, but you let it pass. He shakes off the momentary lapse and continues, “but I know how you’re feeling.”
“Then how do I make it right?” You ask him.
“Sometimes you can’t,” He says honestly, “sometimes one person just feels so much more than the other, and you try to make it work until you bend so much for them you break.”
“I know what Woo said,” You shake your head, “but I’m not in love with them. I’m not.”
“I trust you,” San nods, “you know yourself better than Youngie.”
“It’s just this thing inside me,” You confess, and maybe it’s the alcohol or the lateness of the hour but you feel safer here on your stoop with him than you have in a long, long time, so you keep confessing. “I wish sometimes so much that I could just be a beta, that I could forget all about this and just know for sure. I’ve… never known anything for real and how am I supposed to trust anything I feel if my body just decides for me.”
He’s quiet for a moment, but then he says, “Being an omega is a beautiful thing,”
“Don’t,” You shake your head sharply, “I’ve heard that one all my life,”
“It is,” He insists, “all of it’s beautiful. Every part and piece of us is, alpha, beta, omega, all of it.”
“San, that’s not,”
“I know what you meant,” San says softly, sliding his hand into yours and giving you a squeeze, “and it would be easier to be a beta, and to not have to wonder every time. Does the person you like feel right because you like them or because something about them is a good biological match?”
“Exactly,”
“Believe me,” He squeezes you again, “I get it.”
Tears prickle in your eyes and you swallow hard to clear them, “Then how do I make this work? How do I go back to the studio and put this behind me?”
“Is that what you want?” He checks, thumb stroking along the back of your hand.
“Yes,” You sigh, “it doesn’t even matter how I feel or don’t feel, I can’t take that risk here,”
“The work is more important,” He finishes for you.
“Yes.”
“Then don’t let them in again,” San says simply, “not like before. Be friends, but keep things professional. Get some distance from this whole thing,”
“I have a feeling this is not the advice Woo would be giving me,” You smile.
“No,” San laughs, “Wooyoung would tell you to open yourself up to the great mystery of being loved or something,”
“And you’re not a romantic,” You smirk.
“No, no,” He shakes his head, “I am, but being a romantic doesn’t mean you have to let people hurt you. I’ve seen Woo get his heart broken a dozen times now, and he keeps trying. He’s the strongest person I know, and I love him for it, but it’s not the only way.”
“So what he said at the bar,” You tuck your unfinished food into the little bag and leave it to the side, “what he said about my heat?”
“I mean,” He shrugs, “y/n, this isn’t your first time. Don’t listen to him,”
“But Seonghwa,” You remember the way Seonghwa agreed, like a scent match was the stars aligning.
“Fuck them both,” San shakes his head, “just because you had a connection with them doesn’t mean they’re the only people you can connect with.”
Your eyes fill with tears again and he shakes his head when he sees your hazy eyes, brushing your jaw softly with his fingers. You swallow hard and sigh, breath hitching in your chest, “You know what’s funny about this?”
“Hmm?” He brushes your jaw again.
“I don’t even want to date right now, I just,” You shrug lightly, “I want to work. I want to have friends. I want to go out and meet people or stay in if I feel like it. I don’t want to sit on the couch pining or walk on eggshells at the studio,”
“y/n,” San steadies you, his voice low and calm, “listen to me, okay?”
“Okay,” You murmur.
“You have work to do, so focus on it. You have friends, including me, and Woo, and Seonghwa, okay? You come out with us… or don’t,” He smiles and squeezes your hand, “and the studio will feel weird for a little while, but trust yourself, it will fade.”
“It will,” You nod, “you’re right,”
He nods, holding your gaze a little longer until he gives you one more squeeze. San shifts back to give you a little space, his hands leaving you and clasping together to hang between his legs. He smiles, “Do you feel any better?”
“Yeah,” You run your hands through your hair and let out a long, tired exhale.
“Sobered up?” He checks.
“Mostly,” You nod, checking your watch, “but it’s so late I’m still going to be feeling it tomorrow,”
“Mm,” He nods, “we aren’t starting until eleven though,”
“True,”
The night is drawing to a close, you can feel it. You don’t really want to be alone with your thoughts again, but you’re also so tired you think you might drop on the spot, so you start to pull away and hope that you’ll be able to fall asleep the minute you hit the pillows.
He pushes himself up to stand and offers you a hand to help you to your feet, “Should I walk you up?”
You shake your head, “I got it,”
“I’ll wait until you get in,” He smiles and nods.
You make it two steps up before you turn back to him, “Thank you, San,” you tell him, “for everything tonight, really,”
He smiles wider, his eyes crinkling up and he nods again, “Don’t thank me, just remember what I said.”
“I will,”
“And y/n,” He calls after you as you start back up the path, “sleep well,”
“You too, Sannie,” You give him one last look before you push open your apartment door and start up the steps. He doesn’t budge, making sure you’re in the door before he pulls out his phone and starts his short walk home.
Coming home this time doesn’t hurt the same.
You hope for more of the same tomorrow.
You hope every day that it fades away, little by little.