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As soon as Jeongin wakes up he's struck with a nasty pang in the pit of his stomach. He groans into the pillow, too conscious to will himself back to sleep. He can't say he's surprised—he's more than old enough to be presenting, but... it doesn't feel good.
He wants to cry, but the tears won't come out. His body's on fire, but when he wriggles free from his covers the chill of the air is too intense. He feels sick, bile threatening to push up past his esophagus. His brain's blank, dizzy, he doesn't know what the point is.
It's tingly and it's wrong and he doesn't get how everyone else has just... dealt with this. He thinks vaguely of his pack, all long past their own presentations. Did they really have it this bad? And they didn't think to warn him?
Maybe they just didn't care. Looked forward to it. It means they've grown up, become a fully-fledged alpha or omega or beta. Jeongin had privately wished he'd never present. Their pack works just fine. He doesn't want to mess up the dynamics.
He screws his eyes shut, but there's a buzz in his ears that won't stop. Nothing is going right and he hasn't even tried to leave his bed yet.
His whole morning is like that. Shoving the covers off then pulling them back on; huffing as he turns to his other side, desperate for sleep; feeling an infernal disgust at his own body. There's a knock on his door at some point—Jeongin doesn't even know what time it is, but he guesses it's noon. Later than he'd ever normally sleep in.
"Jeongin-ah," comes the muffled voice of Minho. "Are you up?"
His tone is neutral, it's a simple question. No judgment. Just checking up on anything out of the ordinary.
Jeongin groans. He doesn't even know if he can stand. He doesn't think he wants to. He needs sleep. Needs to sleep this off, wake up when it's all over, and then... he's not sure. That's a problem for future Jeongin to solve.
"Jeongin?" Minho calls again, creaking the door open.
He buries his face deeper into the pillow. He doesn't want to cry in front of Minho, but the tears feel closer than before.
"You okay?" Minho pauses, sniffs the air.
Dread creeps up Jeongin's skin. He doesn't want to have this conversation.
"Right," Minho realizes. He comes closer, sits on the edge of Jeongin's bed. "Well, congrats on presenting. If there's anything you need—"
"I don't wanna," Jeongin croaks, choking back a sob.
It catches Minho off-guard, he thinks, though Minho's never one to falter for more than a moment. "Does it hurt?" Minho asks, tone dipping into something softer. It's comforting in that way that betas have a knack for. Jealousy boils in Jeongin's stomach.
"It feels—" Jeongin gasps, "I don't like it. It's bad."
Minho rubs his shoulder, currently poking out from the sheets. "Alphas tend to have it pretty rough," he muses.
They stay like that for a while. Minho massaging his shoulder, Jeongin heaving out little sobs.
"I'm gonna go tell Channie hyung, okay? You stay here. I'll get Seungminnie to take care of you."
It's the first time Jeongin's ever dreaded the thought of seeing Seungmin. He isn't stupid. He knows what alphas do to omegas. He doesn't trust his body. He doesn't want to do anything like that to Seungmin. Or to anyone.
But Minho leaves without another word, and Jeongin's stuck crying on his lonesome.
It's a long few minutes later when Seungmin pokes his head around the door, a sympathetic smile pressed to his face. Jeongin's brain shuts down. He doesn't want this.
"Hi, Innie," he greets, padding over to Jeongin's bed, crouching down beside him. "Minho hyung told me..."
Something has changed, Jeongin realizes, and it's terrible. Seungmin's gorgeous. Prettier than he was yesterday. There's nothing special about him today, but he looks so soft and warm and comfortable in his big hoodie and sweats, and Jeongin hates it. Seungmin's gorgeous, but he doesn't want this.
He doesn't want Seungmin. He doesn't want an omega. He wants Minho back, with his soothing cedary scent, someone to ground him. Chan could help him too, right? He'd understand. He's an alpha, so he's probably felt the same way. Close enough, at least.
"Go away," Jeongin groans, covering his nose with his arm. Seungmin's scent is suffocating, sickeningly sweet peach stinking up the room.
He watches Seungmin's expression morph to something more neutral, but he can't find any remorse in himself. They can't be around each other right now.
Seungmin doesn't listen, though. He leans back slightly, but his face is still too close to Jeongin's. "Presenting sucked for me too. Do you remember?"
Jeongin might be able to remember if he weren't so drained. His head feels fuzzy, pins pricking his brain. "I said go away."
Seungmin doesn't respond. He's still looking in Jeongin's eyes, and Jeongin has to turn his head. Even Seungmin's eyes are pretty. Big and shiny and soft. Jeongin wants to bury his face against Seungmin, drink in all his being. Pretty omega.
It's gross. He's already changed. He doesn't like Seungmin like that. It's just—it's just instinct. Deep down, his real self doesn't think of Seungmin any differently. Presenting is just planting weird, incorrect thoughts in his brain. That's all.
"I think Channie hyung's coming to see you," Seungmin starts. "I can tell him to leave you alone if you want."
"No," Jeongin mumbles, shaking his head. "I need Channie hyung."
This is supposed to be how he grows up into an adult, so why does he feel like a little kid? Throwing a tantrum for his Channie hyung, their leader, the person he trusts the most right now. He just needs it to stop.
"Okay," Seungmin says quietly.
♡
Chan doesn't get it. He can empathize with the growing pains, convinces Jeongin to drink some water and eat something easy to keep his strength up—but he doesn't get what Jeongin's so worried about.
He listens with a concerned frown as Jeongin babbles about how it's scary. How he doesn't want this to happen to his body. How if he had to present, he'd wanted to be a beta.
Jeongin doesn't have the guts to really get into it. He doesn't mention Seungmin. It's embarrassing, how his body's changing and begging him to cozy up to the first omega he sees. The sooner this awkward transitional phase passes the better. He can't let his gross new instincts seep into his relationship with Seungmin—or Hyunjin or Jisung, for that matter. No, he can't even bear to think about that right now.
"It's a big change," Chan agrees, not meeting Jeongin's eye. He's distant, staring at the wall as he contemplates his angle. "But I'll still take care of everything, yeah? You don't need to worry too much about the pack."
"That's not the point!" Jeongin slams his fists against his duvet, whining as tears prick at his eyes. "I don't want it," he sobs, leaning in as Chan hooks an arm around his back.
"Hey, hey," he soothes, and Jeongin forces back another bout of tears. "It's gonna be okay. You know we're all here for you, yeah?"
Jeongin doesn't respond. Doesn't even humor Chan with a little nod, a hum of affirmation.
"Did something happen?" Chan grasps his shoulders, butting his head into Jeongin's space, keeping their eyes locked.
"Nothing happened," Jeongin mumbles. "I just don't want anything to happen. But, my body..."
Chan doesn't seem to like that answer. Jeongin knows what it is—it's not anger directed at Jeongin, but disappointment in himself. Jeongin doesn't blame him for not knowing everything. It's hard to keep up with every member of their pack, to listen to their worries. And it's not like Jeongin had ever voiced this before. He'd been living life under the assumption that he really could go without presenting.
Some good that did him.
"I don't want to rut," he supplies quietly. He thinks his body must be building up to it. That prickly heat that's been thrashing around under his skin all day. The strange disconnect between what he wants and what his body's telling him he wants.
"Rut," Chan repeats, as though the word's foreign on his tongue. "Jeongin-ah, you don't... you don't need to do anything you don't want to, you know?"
Jeongin wants to scream. To lash out. He doesn't want to, but the newly presented alpha in him begs him to do that too. This isn't who he is. Nothing about this is right. There's some mistake, nature got the wrong guy.
"If you're not ready for something, none of us would ever force you, alright? But we're here for you, we'll make sure—"
"I don't think you get it," he says bitterly, and this time it's a little fragment of himself in his brain that's begging him to act differently.
Chan shuts up, waiting intently for Jeongin to explain. He's too tolerant, Jeongin thinks. Chan should be putting him in his place, disciplining him for acting out of turn. What kind of alpha sits there and lets their junior talk like that?
"I don't like that kind of stuff." He sniffs, suddenly tense—all too aware of Chan's eyes on him. "Like, I don't want it ever. But. I'm scared."
"That doesn't change anything. You don't have to do anything you don't want to."
"My body," Jeongin says. "I don't want it to do anything."
"Well, we can look into options for that. See what the doctor recommends."
Chan has a look on his face that says he knows something, though Jeongin can't glean what. He should've looked into all this beforehand; he has no idea what Chan's thinking of.
"What?" he yelps, realizing too late that the word has slipped out.
"I mean, I promise I'll look into all the options," Chan says, with a sincerity Jeongin believes in. "We can talk about it together, see what's best for you. But I don't know how easy it'll be to get a miracle cure, you know? We can get you suppressants for now, but the side effects mean they aren't a great long-term solution."
Jeongin nods along; he has no idea what the side effects are. He never thought he'd need to. There's some vague memory of the others exchanging conversation about them from time to time—they'll have used them at some point, he supposes. He scrapes around in his brain to try to discern exactly what they've said about them—he comes up with nothing.
"I'll go check if I've any left, yeah? Maybe let the others take care of you for a bit."
"No," Jeongin snaps, then bites his lip at his reaction. "I mean. You can't leave me with the omegas."
Chan opens his mouth to reiterate that they'd never make him uncomfortable, but Jeongin beats him to it.
"I already saw Seungmin hyung. And I didn't— it was weird. I can't see them."
After a look of consideration, Chan says, "Okay. I'll ask Minho."
Jeongin really does feel like he's sick. Minho sits dutifully by his bed, though he lets the others in to visit. It's a weird mix of congratulatory and sympathetic. They figure it's just hitting him hard, he thinks; he'll let them believe that for now. They know Chan's out getting him suppressants because he ran out, but it's too much of a hassle to bore them with the details.
Despite the new-found contrarian in him, he admits Chan was right. The pack care for him. He's been lying drained and motionless while he waits for Chan to get back, but it's brought a little smile to his face to see them all pop their heads in.
What he doesn't like is the revelation that Hyunjin and Jisung don't make him feel weird. It's a good thing. It should be a good thing. He won't be like that with every omega.
But of course, it's too late now. His stupid alpha brain has already imprinted on Seungmin, who doesn't come back to visit because that same, stupid, useless alpha brain scared him off.
Jeongin doesn't burden anyone else with that, either. It's for the best that Seungmin keeps his distance. Jeongin doesn't know what he'll try, doesn't want to. The little part of his heart that yearns to see him again is fueled by more alpha nonsense that he hopes will go away when the suppressants kick in. It has to.
♡
Unwilling to sit on edge until the suppressants started doing their job, he'd elected to sleep again. It's late when he blinks back to consciousness, and Seungmin is looming over him.
The suppressants—they must not have worked. His heart is throbbing, resounding all through his ribcage. Seungmin has the same air he did earlier, soft and inviting as he offers Jeongin a slight smile. Jeongin still wants to nuzzle against him, rub his scent off onto Seungmin's clothes.
But the weird itch beneath his skin is gone, he realizes. He sighs in relief as its absence registers—there's one less thing he'll have to fight his body on.
It's another thing that he can't make sense of, though. He shouldn't have an instinct to couple up with the first omega he sees any more, right? He doesn't need a mate to spend his presentation with. He doesn't need Seungmin.
Yet here Seungmin is, gorgeous and gentle. He could go into acting, Jeongin thinks; he'd portray an unreachably beautiful character with ease. Elegant and poised. A pretty omega that's pined over by all who meet him.
"Morning, Innie," Seungmin teases, mercifully choosing not to comment on Jeongin's prolonged open-mouthed stare. "Do you feel any better?"
"Um," Jeongin gawks. "Weird. A little better. I'm less... nervous."
"That's good." Seungmin keeps his distance, sat unmoving on the chair Minho had pulled over from Jeongin's desk. "Channie hyung mentioned you were nervous about your rut."
Jeongin swallows. "Yeah."
"It gets easier," Seungmin promises, though it doesn't assure Jeongin as much as he'd like. "Presenting always puts everything on you at once."
"Right. Um. It still feels weird."
"Yeah. You don't need to be nervous. We'll take care of you."
Jeongin can't tell if he's reading it all wrong. "I don't— Channie hyung's gonna take me to the doctor. To stop it."
Seungmin raises an eyebrow, face dropping. "It's that bad?"
"No," Jeongin panics. "Just— I don't... want that. You know."
Seungmin cocks his head—he's cute, he's like a puppy, Jeongin wants to hold him—prompting Jeongin to be clearer.
"I'm not really... interested. In that." He claws at his sheets, begging himself to stop worrying the poor omega. "Rutting. Or, like. Heats. Sex."
"Oh. Well, that's fine," Seungmin assures him. "Yours might not be like that, though."
"It felt weird," Jeongin says.
"Yeah. I mean, I'm not an alpha, so I can't speak for you. But I don't really get that way. Just... clingy."
That much is true, Jeongin can attest. Seungmin hardly leaves him alone sometimes. But he never minded. Being invited into Seungmin's nest to keep him company during them was more comforting than he'd ever admit.
"But do what you have to," Seungmin tells him, reaching out to fix his hair. "Don't force yourself to go through it or anything."
"Okay," Jeongin gulps.
"I'll take care of you if you do, though. So don't worry. I'll even make you a nest."
"I'm an alpha," Jeongin frowns, though this is another instinctual reaction that he hates. Alphas don't have nests.
"So? You can still have a nest. It's nice to have a little place to yourself. Especially if you're stressed, or nervous..."
Jeongin fidgets with his bedsheets, slipping the fabric between his fingers. "What if I made one?" he asks, and it comes out so small he finds himself straightening his posture to make up for it.
"Why don't you?" Seungmin stands up, offering a hand to help him up. "I'll help."
"Where should I...?"
"Anywhere you want."
Jeongin scans around his room, drawn to the space under his desk. It isn't huge, but he thinks he could fit comfortably underneath it.
"I'll go get some blankets," Seungmin says, following his eyes.
Jeongin almost whines at the thought of Seungmin leaving, but he keeps it in. "Okay. I'll... get started."
He doesn't know what he's doing, really. Omegas have a knack for this, because they're meant to do it. Jeongin is not. He drags his bedsheet down, bundling it so it covers the space on the floor. It peeks out slightly, but he doesn't know how to fix it.
There's an old blanket in his wardrobe, so he lays that down as well, then takes the pillow from his bed and dumps it on top. It's a start. Nothing like Seungmin's, but a start.
Seungmin struggles to get through the door with his arms full. Jeongin lightens the load for him, sifting through each blanket. They're a little warm, and they smell like sweet peach. Jeongin's heart thuds against his chest, startling him like he's prey.
"I took some from my nest," Seungmin explains, and the verbal confirmation makes him dizzy. He'd trust Jeongin that much? "Oh, this is cute," he says, looking at Jeongin's little pile on the floor.
"I don't really know what to do."
"I like it. Feels very welcoming. We don't have to add all of these. You can just pick the ones you like."
Jeongin likes all of them, but the ones that smell the most like Seungmin are a necessity. Seungmin lays them down, expertly tucking them in to make it look more put together. He brought a pillow too, and he places it right beside the one Jeongin added.
"There," Seungmin beams. "Innie's very own nest."
Jeongin crouches down into it, flopping onto his side. It's cozy. The shade of the desk makes him feel safe, which is an embarrassing thought for an alpha to have. But he likes it, and he likes Seungmin smiling down at him.
Without thinking, he extends his arms out to motion Seungmin in. It's a tight squeeze, but the blankets overflowing out the mouth of the desk make enough room for Seungmin to join.
"Thank you," Jeongin mumbles.
Seungmin rolls closer into Jeongin's arms, and Jeongin relishes in that peach fragrance without hiding it. He nuzzles against the nape of Seungmin's neck, keeps him close in his hold.
"None needed," Seungmin mumbles, squeezing Jeongin's hand. "As long as you're happy."