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SKZ DRABBLE-OT8
The one where honesty is always the best policy. Except when it isn't?
Or
Part One of the Twenty Second installment of the Skz!pack Prequel Series.
A/N: We're back, bitches. Buckle up.
Tags: SKZ, Stray Kids, Stay, OT8, skz!pack, skz!abo, poly!skz, omegaverse, skz x you, skz x reader, ot8 x you, ot8 x reader, bang chan, lee minho, seo changbin, lee felix, hwang hyunjin, han jisung, yang jeongin, kim seungmin, y/n, skz angst, skz fluff, skz drabble, skz imagines, skz reactions, skz scenarios, Skz!pack prequel, pack!prequel, prequel series
Genre: Angst, Light Fluff
Warning: Past Trauma, Fear of Thunderstorms
Title: Lie To Me; Part I
“So we can all agree that we’re struggling with this, yeah?” Chan asks, tapping his fingers along his glass in a sort of anxious motion, his expression serious.
You can see the weight on his shoulders from across the table.
Minho takes a sip of his own drink and replies back casually, “Not me. I’m fine.”
Changbin immediately scoffs and you snort, narrowing your gaze on the alpha leaning against the counter, your voice sharp as you retort, “You’re so full of shit. We all know you’re on edge. You and Changbin haven’t been at each other’s throats this much since we started dating.”
Minho shrugs, but doesn’t offer a defensive quip in return, and that tells you all you need to know.
He’s notorious for trying to act like shit doesn’t bother him, stubborn as a mule when it comes to keeping things ‘normal,’ but you know him too well by now, you all do.
He’s just as uneasy as the rest of you.
Changbin drums his fingers on the kitchen table, looking slightly annoyed. “It’s such bullshit that it’s even a thing in the first place.” He sighs, reaching up to run his hand once again through his already disheveled hair, and when he continues, his voice is softer. “But I can’t just keep ignoring him, you know? I’m going to go fucking crazy.”
You and Chan nod in agreement, in understanding, and you find Changbin’s fingers under the table, wrapping them in the safety of your own and giving him a squeeze.
“Trust me. Nobody gets it more, Binnie.”
Minho sets his empty glass in the sink and approaches the table, leaning his hip beside Chan as he moves his piercing gaze between the three of you, lips pulled into a thin, stern line, arms crossed over his chest.
“Moping about it isn’t going to do anything. We need to do something. Decisions have to be made.”
Changbin scoffs almost tiredly from beside you. “So what, we just, cut him off? Forbid him from being around?” He narrows a glare on Minho. “That’s gonna fucking hurt a lot of people we care about, Minho.”
Minho remains unyielding, holding the other alpha’s gaze. “If that’s what we have to do, at least until he presents, than yes.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Chan holds out his hands between the two, as if worried one of them is going to leap over the table and go at it right here in the kitchen.
With how on edge everyone currently is, they just might.
He blows out a long, controlled breath through his nose, and sits back in his chair, still eyeing the two of them warily before he says firmly, “That’s not what anyone’s suggesting, Bin, okay? We just need to figure some shit out.”
“Yeah.” You nod seriously, your fingers still gripping a little bit tighter than necessary around Changbin’s forearm, his skin warm and flushed beneath your hold. You glance between the two of them, softening slightly. “I know he’s become an important part of our lives, of the pack’s lives, and we’re not trying to sever that or undermine it in any way. Minho-” You glance up at the other alpha, his expression unreadable. “-you can try to deny it all you want, but we know you have a soft spot for the kid. You’re not as impenetrable as you lead everyone to believe.”
Minho’s chest rises and falls with a breath, and he looks away from your gaze.
Chan sighs heavily. “So what the fuck do we do?”
“Our alphas don’t like him around because he’s unpresented.” You muse, thinking hard, playing with the condensation on your empty glass as you go over options silently in your head. “Because of that factor, there’s no way to establish set pack order, too many uncertain variables, and alphas aren’t recognized for their love of the unknown.”
Chan nods thoughtfully, steepling his fingers in front of his chin. “Right. But everyone else is okay with things being up in the air for now.”
“So maybe.” Changbin cocks his head, eyes lighting up with an idea. “Instead of removing the kid from the equation until he presents, we remove ourselves.”
“It’s gonna fucking suck.” You admit, glancing between them all. “But it might have to be done.”
Minho scoffs beneath his breath, his fingers gripping the back of Chan’s chair until they turn white. “So what, we just make excuses every time the kid’s around?”
“Basically.” Changbin stands up, dropping his used glass into the sink next to Minho’s, before he leans against the counter and crosses his arms over his broad chest. “We avoid interactions that involve him until further notice.”
“Do we tell them?” Chan asks suddenly, eyes skimming over you all, looking for reactions. “The rest of the pack, I mean.”
Changbin shakes his head, and you immediately reply, “No. Because word will get back somehow, and that’ll just make him feel worse about the fact that he’s not presented. And I’m sure he gets enough shit from the freshman at the dorms over that already. I’m not gonna add to that.”
Chan nods in understanding, and Minho pops his jaw in open annoyance.
“Keeping secrets is gonna fuck us over in the end, you know.”
“You have a better idea?” Changbin challenges, as they glare each other down, and the tension in the room rises noticeably once more.
“Please, try me right now, meathead, I dare you.”
Chan sighs tiredly, and you stand from the table, glaring back and forth between the two tense alphas.
Wisteria blooms warningly in the small kitchen.
“Fucking knock it off, will you? This situation sucks enough already as it is. We don’t need the two of you coming to blows in the middle of the kitchen like two grade school kids who can’t control their temper tantrums.”
Changbin drops his gaze, but Minho remains rigid beside you.
You turn to him.
“Min.” You lower your voice, your words firm. “It won’t be forever. And none of us are thrilled about this, but we’ve gotta think of the pack.”
He flicks his dark eyes to you, but says nothing.
A calming wave of petrichor replaces your scent in the air around you, and Chan’s fingers find Minho’s on the back of his chair as he says quietly, “C’mon, Min. It’s not us against you here. We’re on your side. Drop the hackles please?”
Minho’s shoulders relax a margin of an inch, and his chest heaves with a deep breath, but he doesn’t look like he immediately wants to murder Changbin anymore, so you guess that’s as good as an answer for now.
Footsteps sound, and Hyunjin appears in the doorway, features disgruntled, and lemony scent unusually bitter, as he quickly surveys the four of you and then pushes past to the fridge without another glance.
“I wasn’t aware there was a meeting of the big bad wolves scheduled for this morning in the middle of my fucking kitchen.”
Changbin cuts his gaze to the clearly annoyed omega sharply, watching with narrowed eyes as Hyunjin violently pours himself a glass of orange juice, slamming the fridge door shut for emphasis.
“Who pissed in your cheerios?”
Hyunjin levels the alpha with a glare, so unlike his usual self, and shakes his head, already headed for the door.
“Forget it. I have a headache. Don’t let me interrupt.”
He disappears without another word, and Changbin glances to the three of you in open disbelief.
You shrug, just as lost as he is. “Hangover?”
Changbin clenches his jaw, a muscle ticking beneath the tan, stretched skin.
At the table, Chan sighs deeply.
“Okay, so we might have to avoid two people for the time being.”
*******
Hyunjin hasn’t said a word to you since your lab started twenty minutes ago.
He took his seat in silence, he pulled out his supplies in silence, and now he’s taking notes-in silence.
You give him another sidelong glance-probably the fiftieth in five minutes-and he sighs, voice irritated, but pen still writing, as he snaps out without looking up, “Stop staring at me.”
You clear your throat and try to focus on your own paper.
But when, in five minutes, your pen stalls in scratching out notes, and you find yourself back to staring at his side profile, lingering for a little longer than necessary, you know it’s no use.
Hyunjin’s body tenses, his fingers whitening around his pen, as if he can feel your eyes on him once again, but before he can say anything a second time, you blurt out, “Are you okay?”
His pen trails to a stop.
And then he says, “No.”
And goes back to jotting down notes.
You fiddle with your own pen for a minute, warring over whether you should push him on this, the scent of lemons bitter in your nose, and then finally you ask, softer this time, “What’s wrong, Hyunjin?”
His pen comes to another halt, and he lets out an annoyed huff of air from his nose, turning to face you as he arches a brow, anger flickering across his dark eyes.
“You mean, besides the impromptu meeting of the Big Bad Wolf Brigade in my kitchen this morning?”
You hold his gaze, not backing down in the face of his obvious agitation, and he sighs again, reaching up to rake a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots slightly, before he fires back with, “I don’t know, okay? I just feel-” He shrugs helplessly, throwing his pen down on the half finished page of notes in disgust. “-off.”
You study him for another long moment, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, and then ask again, “Are you sick?”
Hyunjin shakes his head jerkily. “No. I just-” He rubs at his temples with long fingers. “-don’t feel like myself.”
“Okay.” You nod once, picking up your own pen once more and turning back to your notes, feeling slightly better now that he’s answered you. You scratch out another sentence before you glance sidelong at him. “Well, let me know if I can help, yeah?”
Hyunjin stares down at the table, making no move to pick back up his own writing utensil, as the silence stretches between the two of you.
Finally, he heaves another sigh and reaches for the discarded pen.
He doesn’t look at you as he says defeatedly, “Movie night.”
You hum beneath your breath, not looking up from your notebook, but your wolf chuffs in approval at the omega’s concession, before you repeat back in confirmation with a nod, “Movie night.”
*******
“You are literally so fucking pretty.”
Hyunjin scoffs at your words, but you don’t miss the slightly pink hue to his cheeks as he glances up at you where you play with his hair from his spot in the omega dorm’s large, communal tub.
“Shut up.”
“No, seriously.” You protest, letting the long, soft strands of his hair sift through your fingers, admiring the way the dark color shines in the soft light.
“I know I’m pretty.” Hyunjin remarks flippantly, eyes blinking up at you innocently. He gives you a lopsided smirk. “How else do you think I bagged all you dumb alphas?”
You lean down and flick some of the warm, scented bath water up into his face in retaliation and he splutters dramatically in response.
“You’re right, because it’s definitely not your personality.”
The omega glares at you halfheartedly, and you laugh, leaning over him to reach for the shampoo you had brought with you, pouring a dime sized portion of the sweet smelling soap into the palm of your hand.
You begin to work the shampoo through Hyunjin’s hair, working it into a lather, your fingers scratching along his scalp, and he relaxes back into the touch, even though he’s still clearly pouting, arms folded across his chest.
You lean over to catch his gaze, and he sticks his tongue out at you.
“You have a great ass though.” You offer as a sort of olive branch, and Hyunjin rolls his eyes, but you see some of the dramatic offense from earlier fade from his expression at your words.
“I know that. Obviously.”
You hide a smile and go back to shampooing his hair.
There is silence for several long minutes, your fingers working through Hyunjin’s hair over and over, as the omega grows more and more relaxed beneath your touch, sinking into the cooling water of the bath, and then finally, he says, “I’m sorry. About earlier.”
“It’s fine.” You reply back easily, because it is, and then hum under your breath as you take your hands from his head, gesturing for him to hand you the cup resting on the side of the tub, “Time to rinse.”
Hyunjin leans his head back, closing his eyes, and you rinse his freshly shampooed hair clean of all the suds, watching as the water turns clear, before you set the cup back in its spot.
It takes him another moment to open his eyes, his head still leaned back on the lip of the tub in front of you, staring up at you from his reclined position with an unreadable look on his face.
It’s your turn to stick your tongue out as you ask, “What?”
He furrows his brow and shakes his head, sitting up again as he leans forward in the perfumed bath water.
“Nothing, okay? I’m just being weird. Forget it.”
You shift around the edge of the tub so you can meet his gaze again, expression going firm as you flick more water in his direction. “Nuh uh. That’s not gonna fly. Spill.”
Hyunjin sighs-heavy and dramatic-and rolls his eyes heavenward, before he says with clear, awkward resignation, “I guess I’m kind of in love with you or whatever.” You giggle, and Hyunjin slides his gaze to you, lips pulled into a clear pout, eyes wide and dark.
“What the fuck, noona? Is this how you responded to Changbin spilling his guts too?”
“Nah.” You shake your head, still laughing, warm head to toe, as you lean forward and pull the plug on the now lukewarm bath water. “But I kinda said it first in that situation, so.”
Hyunjin is still staring at you, wet hair plastered to his shoulders, and you decide to have mercy on him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips before you stand to retrieve the towel.
You give him a smile over your shoulder.
“Baby, I’ve been in love with you since the moment you sat down beside me and introduced yourself during our first lab freshman year. And that’s never gonna change.” You fling the towel at him, holding out your hand to pull him up. “Now come on, let’s go watch a movie.”
***************
Hyunjin is still grumbling-but dry and fully clothed-when you make it back to his apartment.
“Fuck, I have a headache.” He complains, slumping down on the pile of blankets creating a makeshift nest on the couch.
You stare at him for a moment, your wolf whining that something is off, but shaking your head, you give him an easy smile and head for his bathroom, calling over your shoulder, “I’ll get you some painkillers. Queue up the movie.”
You’re digging through Hyunjin’s messy bathroom cabinets when you hear a knock at the door, some shuffling, and then the low tones of Hyunjin’s voice talking to someone.
You’re sure it’s just one of the pack Hyunjin probably forgot to tell you he invited over to join in on movie night.
You perk your ears in interest, though you haven’t caught a scent yet, and head back to the living room, pain killers held triumphantly aloft in hand.
“I found the-”
Everything inside of you freezes, your words dying off, as you catch sight of a head of shockingly red hair peeking over the top of Hyunjin’s couch.
Jeongin.
“Oh, hey, noona!” Jeongin turns at your entrance, face split with a smile, eyes screwed tight, and it takes everything in you to not turn and run.
Because while the wolf part of you is growling in unsure warning-antsy and nervous-the human part of you is very much begging for you to close the distance and take the red headed boy in your arms, pressing your nose to his hair and cuddling his warmth.
It’s a war you’re not entirely sure can be won.
“Oh. Hey.” You stutter out, carefully skirting around the couch where Jeongin currently sits, your eyes never leaving his face.
You shove the painkillers into Hyunjin’s hand without really looking, and he pauses in picking a movie, looking at you sharply, and you’re sure he can smell the way your scent has suddenly gone haywire.
“What-” The omega starts to ask, but before he can, you stumble over yourself, suddenly desperate to get out of there.
“I didn’t know you were coming, Innie.” You force a smile that you don’t feel, the words from this morning ringing loudly in your head, your blood whooshing in your ears.
We remove ourselves.
Hyunjin is staring at you like he knows something is wrong, but can’t quite figure out what.
“Yeah, I invited him.” He finally says, and Jeongin’s smile has disappeared off his face. “Is that okay?”
“Sure, sure.” You wave your hand, not looking at either of them, shoving your feet into your shoes with clumsy, numb fingers.
Your wolf is snarling now, teeth bared, warning you not to leave your omega alone with an unpresented outsider.
Your scent is sickly thick in your own nose as you make a dive for your keys and fumble with the doorknob.
“I just forgot, I have something tonight. I’ll see you guys later, okay? Another movie night. Rain check. Have fun though.”
Hyunjin’s lips have pursed into a thin line, and Jeongin looks openly hurt-large eyes wide and dark-but you force yourself to ignore them both, and not waiting for a reply, hurry out the door.
You breathe easier-out of the apartment, away from the two boys-and as you take the steps two at a time down to the lobby and shove open the doors of the omega dorm, you take in a deep, gasping inhale, slowly letting it out as you head off down the sidewalk, away from the building.
Your heart slows in your ears as you walk aimlessly, no real destination in mind, and your breathing grows less ragged, but your wolf is still irritatingly antsy.
The look on Jeongin’s face-
You shake your head violently, pushing that thought from your mind, and urge yourself into a sprint, taking the sidewalk that leads down to the quad and the woods without really thinking about it.
It’s nice, to get your blood pumping and the wind in your ears, your feet slapping the pavement in an easy rhythm, and by the time you reach the edge of the forest that borders campus, you’re breathing hard again, but from exertion this time.
Bending over, resting your hands on your knees to catch your breath, you feel your phone chime in your pocket.
You bite your lip, toying with the idea of not looking at it all, but finally pull it from your back pocket and glance at the lit up lock screen.
Hyunjin.
You blow out the breath you’ve been holding-long and slow through your nose-and without reading the text, stuff your phone back once more into the safety of your pocket.
You’ll apologize and explain later.
Right now, you just need to clear your head.
You start jogging again, dodging trees and low hanging branches, and fall into a nice rhythm.
It doesn’t matter where you’re going right now-the cool, dark air of the woods feels good against your heated skin, and the slight fog that always clings to the ground here, regardless of weather or time of day, slithers around your shoes like an old friend welcoming you home.
You’ve maybe been running for fifteen minutes when the first drop of rain hits your face, sliding down the bridge of your nose and dripping off your chin.
You slide to a stop, glancing up at the sky through narrowed eyes, and the dark gathering of puffy clouds above your head signals more rain is about to hit any second.
Dammit.
You heave a sigh, and turn back the way you came.
The slight misting of rain turns to a torrential downpour before you even reach the edge of the trees, and when a sharp crack of bright lightning lights up the sky above you, the thunder roaring behind dangerously close overhead, you dive beneath the safety of a nearby river bank without even thinking.
Your heart is pounding once more in your ears, and you swallow hard, mouth and throat suddenly very dry.
Your blood roars, pounding in your head into the start of a headache, and you squeeze your eyes shut as another flash of lightning turns the trees around you into twisted, distorted shapes in the quickly dwindling light.
You fist your hands into the pocket of your hoodie and count to ten in your head, lips trembling and teeth chattering as another round of thunder shakes the ground beneath you.
You know the signs. You’re dangerously close to a panic attack.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You swear in a constant, vehement stream beneath your breath, tucking your dirty sneakers beneath you as you curl your legs protectively to your chest.
Resting your forehead on your knees, you try to take deep, slow breaths, and force yourself to picture Chan, the scent of petrichor filling your nostrils coming from the alpha you love and feel safe with, but his influence can only do so much against the onslaught of the storm roaring around you.
It’s one thing to feel comfortable around another alpha’s scent, it’s another thing entirely to forget everything in your life that has happened in the rain.
Another clap of thunder, and you’re huddling into yourself, slapping your hands frantically over your ears.
The wetness on your cheeks is tears, not rain.
Just like before.
‘You don’t have to go!’ Your fingers are grabbing the hem of his coat, and though he doesn’t look at you, he stops, which gives you hope.
‘I do.’
‘No!’ You cry out, and your ten year old voice is high and shrill, a loud boom of thunder drowning out your wails. ‘Please don’t go. Don’t go.’
Your cries turn into whimpers, and he still doesn’t turn.
Instead, he shakes his coat free from your fingers and opens the car door.
‘Please.’ You sob, and he shakes his head, before disappearing into the car.
Your mother pulls you back-drenched and shaking and crying-into the safety of the house, and he drives out of sight.
Your fingers find your phone in your pocket somehow, and you manage to unlock it, squinting against the bright screen, your hands shaking so badly that you’re not even sure you can type, let alone find your contacts.
You’re soaked through, even hiding under the minimal cover of the embankment, and you’re shivering so hard your teeth feel like they’re going to chatter right out of your head.
You curse yourself for not checking the weather before your little spontaneous run.
The rain dripping from overhead makes your phone screen slick, and you swear in frustration as after several fruitless attempts to type, it slips from your fingers, sinking into the mud at your feet.
“Fuck!” You scream back at the whipping wind, and pouring rain, and bright flashes of lightning and terrifying thunder.
Your fingers curl into fists at your side, and you can’t hold back the sob that wrenches free from your throat.
No one knew where you went after you left Hyunjin’s. You hadn’t even bothered to answer his text.
You were alone, and you’d just have to wait out the storm.
You shove yourself as far back against the embankment as you can, huddled into the fetal position, and screw your eyes shut, trying to think of something, anything, other than the sounds of the storm swirling around you, the feel of your heart pounding wildly within the walls of your chest.
“Breathe.” You tell yourself, but your voice wobbles, and your words tremble, and you’re crying again.
Crying, crying, crying.
‘Why are you crying?’ He asks with such cold haughtiness that you stop for a moment and stare at him, mouth agape.
‘Why am I crying?’ You repeat back in disbelief, and you force some of the wobble from your voice as you straighten, glaring him down. ‘Why the fuck would I not be crying? I love you!’
He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, and the water dripping from the dark strands of his hair trace their way across his high cheekbones, the expensive, crisp lines of his suit.
‘It never would have worked anyway.’ He stares at you, sharp, angry, and it’s a far cry from the soft, affectionate man you thought you knew. He takes a menacing step toward you, and you take one back. “Alphas don’t belong with other alphas, (Y/N). You fucking know that. Regardless of whatever shit your radical equality college courses are brainwashing you into thinking.”
You open your mouth to respond, but he’s holding up a hand, silencing you as easily as if he’d just slapped you.
Lightning crackles over head, illuminating the hard expression on his face, the hurt on your own.
‘My parents have found me a suitable match-an accomplished omega from a good family. I’m sorry, (Y/N).’ He’s not. You know he’s not.
So you stand in the rain, and you watch him get into his fancy car and drive away, leaving you behind.
You’re not sure how long you’re crouched there, hidden in on yourself beneath the fake safety the embankment at your back affords, but it feels like years have passed when you feel someone shake you, and your name sounds from far away, like someone is calling out from underwater.
“(Y/N)!”
You force yourself to open your eyes, and the face swimming before you slowly comes into view.
The downturned lips, the worried expression in the dark, serious eyes, the panicked, furrowed posture of the brow.
Chan shakes you again, not as violently this time, and his mouth forms words, but it takes a moment for your brain to catch up and decipher them.
“-going to get you warm. Can you walk?”
Every inch of your body feels like it’s been soaked in cold, wet concrete-your limbs numb, your lips trembling-and so you shake your head tiredly, slowly.
Everything feels too heavy.
Chan glances over at someone, and it’s then that you notice he’s not alone, Minho and Changbin crouched at either shoulder, their expressions of open worry mirroring his own.
“What were you fucking thinking?” Changbin leans around Chan to frantically rub at your upper arms, trying to spark some warmth back in your skin as you continue to shiver, wet clothing weighing down your useless limbs.
You want to shrug, want to tease and tell him ‘oh, you know, just thought I’d go running in a rain storm and catch hypothermia and maybe die, and oh! I saw Jeongin today. Probably ruined that relationship indefinitely.’ but instead, you can barely shake your head in response, lips moving weakly, but no sound coming out.
Fuck, you’re cold.
“We need to go.” Minho tells Chan and Changbin seriously, and they nod in response, Chan carefully pulling you out from under the embankment and settling you into his arms, Changbin throwing his jacket over you as he stands, tucking it around your violently shaking body.
Minho keeps pace beside Chan as he carries you through the forest, and he reaches out to brush a hand down your cheek, his skin pleasantly warm, so much so that you whine and seek after it even when he pulls back with a tight smile.
“Blue’s not your color, sweetheart. We need to take care of that.”
You snuggle into the warmth of Chan’s chest, like a moth chasing a flame, and you note offhandedly, fuzzily from somewhere far away, that the rain has stopped, dripping slowly and rhythmically from the trees overhead.
Changbin jogs ahead, and you realize, at the sound of an engine turning over, that they’ve brought Chan’s car.
Your mind immediately goes to the delicious thought of the heater, your skin prickling painfully at the idea.
Everything is slowly coming back to life.
You’re no longer numb, but maybe you’d prefer that, because now, now everything just fucking hurts.
Minho and Chan sandwich you between their warmth in the backseat, and Changbin drives like his ass is on fire straight back to the alpha dorms.
You don’t even protest when they carry you up the stairs and into your apartment, Changbin rustling through your closet to find any and all blankets you own, piling them on top of your still shaking body, one after the other.
“Fuck, baby girl.” He mutters, crouching down in front of you where you lay on the couch, teeth still chattering loudly. He tugs a blanket up and tucks it beneath your chin, concern etched across his face. “You’re still fucking freezing.”
“It’s probably the shock.” Chan replies worriedly, pacing behind Changbin, his lower lip pulled between his teeth.
If you weren’t currently unsure of whether or not you could speak, you would have congratulated him on his astute, and very scientific, correct conclusion.
Minho stares at you, hands on his hips, and then he whips into action.
“Go turn on the shower. Make it as hot as you think she can stand.” He motions to Chan, and the other alpha disappears down the hallway without another word. “Changbin.” He glances at the alpha crouched beside you, feeling your forehead with his large, warm palm. “Help me get her undressed.”
In any other situation, Changbin probably would have made a suggestive joke about Minho’s choice of words, but now, he just silently helps you sit up, propped up against his chest, as Minho removes all the blankets and begins taking off your clothes slowly, starting with your muddy, wet sneakers.
By the time he’s laid you bare, there is a drenched, heavy pile of dark clothing sitting on the living room floor, and your shuddering has resumed violently, goosebumps pricking over every inch of your exposed skin.
Changbin rubs his warm palms up and down the skin of your arms as your teeth chatter, and Minho grunts, standing up and motioning with his head to Chan, who’s reappeared in the mouth of the hallway.
“Let’s go.”
Changbin picks you up easily without another word from Minho, and even in your partially out of it state, you pick up on the way their scents sour with worry, sharp and acrid on every inhale.
You don’t like it, and you try to say as much, but only a whimper comes out, and Changbin ups his pace to the bathroom.
The air inside the little room is pleasantly humid and warm thanks to the already running shower, and you start to feel your muscles prickle to life painfully once more as the blood starts to return to them in response to the change in temperature.
It’s still not enough though, and your jaw is starting to ache from all the shivering.
Changbin carefully deposits you in the shower, and you hold onto the wall desperately as the support of his arms leaves, willing your legs to keep you standing, your entire body still quivering, even under the unending stream of the hot water from overhead.
Changbin leans inside the shower once more, Chan and Minho watching you warily from over his shoulder, and places his palm on your bare skin.
His hand is warm, and you desperately seek after the contact as he pulls back and swears under his breath.
“Fuck.” He glances at the other two alphas, and the bitter scent of smoke burns your lungs, making your throat even drier than before. “It’s not enough. She’s still chilled.”
Without a word, Chan shucks off his sweatshirt and drops it to the bathroom floor, pushing past Changbin to step into the shower, pulling you into the warmth of his bare chest, the water instantly drenching the sweatpants he still wears without a thought.
You want to tease him, tell him you’d never thought of showering with your clothes on before, but the warm, persistent heat of his body against your own, slowly thawing your bones, is enough to keep you silent, snuggling in more against him instead.
You glance up at him, the water dripping from his curls and down his nose, as he motions to the other two alphas with a jerk of his chin.
“Get in. C’mon. The more body heat, the better.”
Changbin and Minho take off their own sweaters, leaving them bare chested, and squeeze into the shower beside the two of you.
It’s a tiny shower, and it’s not made for four bodies, but they make it work, squishing you between them, their arms linked in a close circle around you, and slowly but surely, the combination of all of their alpha body heat-higher temperature than betas or omegas-starts to warm you from the inside out.
Changbin smooths a hand over your wet hair, and his face grows slightly less pinched as he nods over your head to Minho and Chan.
“She’s getting warmer.”
Your brain is mush, warmed between your three alpha mates, and the smell of their combined scents-slowly returning to normal now that they know you’re not dying-is like a balm, washing over you and making your eyes instantly heavy.
You sigh and let yourself sag in Chan’s hold, content they’ll hold you up.
“I didn’t do it on purpose y’know.” You finally say, words slurred and heavy with exhaustion, and you feel them all heave a collective sigh of relief at your first coherent words since they found you.
“What, trying to get yourself killed and fuck us over with worry?” Minho chuckles with no humor and his words are sharp and dry, but his tender, affectionate fingers on your hip soften the searing tone to his response.
You nod against Chan’s chest, and his arms tighten around you in response.
“Yeah, I-” You swallow, desperately needing a drink now that your body is going back to normal, and avoid their gazes, glancing down to study the way Changbin’s rough knuckles look covering Chan’s hand splayed protectively across your bare stomach.
Honesty is the best policy right?
“-didn’t know it was supposed to storm.” You finish lamely, because fuck honesty right now, you don’t think you can handle thinking about the betrayal on Jeongin’s face, the disappointment on Hyunjin’s.
“I’m sorry.” Chan murmurs beneath his breath, pressing a soft kiss to your upturned forehead.
You glance at him in surprise, slowly regaining cognitive abilities.
“Why are you sorry?”
“We should have looked for you sooner.” He replies tightly, eye’s dark and lips pinched. He shakes his head slightly. “Hyunjin said he was worried about you when you left his place, but we just thought you’d gone for a run, needed some time, and then it started to rain-”
You shrug, and try to make your tone light. “It’s not your fault I’m terrified of thunderstorms.”
“Yeah, but it is our job to look out for you.” Changbin says resolutely, placing a finger beneath your chin and making you look up at him.
His expression softens slightly as he stares down at you, and suddenly, you feel a lot more warm than before.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper out, because suddenly, you don’t know what else to say.
Minho shifts behind you, leaning his cheek onto your drenched hair, and you feel his sigh against your back, his breath brushing across your cheek.
“Why are you apologizing, sweetheart?”
You glance down at your hands covering theirs, resting around your waist, and you experimentally flex your fingers, the blood flow restored.
Physically, you feel loads better already, emotionally, not so much.
You bite your bottom lip and focus on the way the water swirls around your feet.
“Because I make it really hard to look out for me sometimes.”
Their responding silence speaks eons more than their words ever could.
Outside, the rain continues to pound against the window panes, and the crack of thunder can be heard even over the sound of the running shower.
'It never would have worked anyway. Alphas don't belong with other alphas, (Y/N).'
********************************************************************************
To Be Continued
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consent doesn’t only apply to sexual touching.
you’re allowed to tell people not to hug you, not to hold your hand, not to kiss your cheek, not to play with your hair, not to put their hands on you in any way without your permission. you’re allowed to be uncomfortable with these kinds of touching, to tell people that, and to have those boundaries respected. just because a touch isn’t sexual doesn’t mean that you’re not allowed to have a problem with it.
you’re allowed to create boundaries about what happens with your body and what other people do with it, regardless of those people’s motivations or their relationship to you. it isn’t only sexual touching people need your consent for and it isn’t only sexual touching that you’re allowed to revoke your consent for. people should not be touching you when you don’t want them to no matter what kind of touching it is.
neeed to feel your hands all over and inside me until I'm sobbing and begging ♡
Anne Michaels, from Skin Divers; “Skin Divers”
[Text ID: “Like the moon, I want / to touch places / just by looking.”]
Pearl singing as a lullaby to calm Lily Universe until she sleeps.
God this song brings back so many feels T.T....I cry every time i see this movie *snif*
Girls who understand the power of this are my kryptonite! 🥵
