Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Being contracted to Sunlight Entertainment is more than Zoey ever dreamed for herself. Doing it with her mate? Younger her would've never even let the thought form in her head. And they got Rumi in the package? Zoey will thank every entity out there and never complain about her luck again; life had just been saving it up for her. Zoey knows that they've been thrown in at the bottom of the hierarchy. Rumi warns them as such; chopsticks anxiously held between her fingers as she does.

"Bobby has some good sway; him endorsing you is a leg up. But Ma won't treat you any differently, even if she wanted to, to avoid conflict amongst the board." Rumi tells them, staring at the lunch Mira had prepared for her. Not eating, just pushing around the rice with the chopsticks adorned with cats (Zoey's choice). Brown eyes glance at them apologetically, cheeks puffed out in a pout. " I don't have much sway."

"Hey, it's okay," Mira reassures as she nudges the omega's shoulder. "You don't need to do anything, but your moral support would be nice. We wouldn't put you in that position- you've never even seen us work."

"Bobby's talks about you," Rumi adds on. "So, you must be good. And I can help! Off the record... if you need someone to give you feedback. I... never debuted, but I definitely have the training for it."

"Wait, you were a trainee?" Zoey squeaks and pushes closer, almost nose to nose with Rumi's quickly flushing face. "Oh, I bet you are wonderful!"

"Why'd you stop?" Mira asks, looping an arm around Zoey to pull her back. The action causes the smaller alpha to fall dramatically into the dancer's lap, Zoey letting out an exaggerated puff of air. It's met with Rumi's slight giggle and Mira's eye roll. The irritation is all for show, but the pink-haired alpha scratches at Zoey's scalp the way she likes anyway.

"The marks... they kept getting worse," Rumi whispers to them like it's a secret that even the sky isn't meant to hear, one hand trailing the patches of white dusting down her arm. "There were already so much around me. Half expected a new gen Sunlight Sister. The other thought I was nothing more than a smear across their legacy. Even the board fought over it, when they thought Ma wasn't looking." Rumi tugs the sleeves of her blouse down, the light fabric obscuring her skin, and shrugs. "It wasn't worth it."

"What did you want?" Mira huffs. The spice of gochujang strengthening in the air, hot and burning. 

"Singing to others, singing for myself," Rumi weighs both options in each hand. "I just wanted to sing, like my moms. I didn't need to debut to do that. And this," Rumi motions to the building towering over them, "This is theirs. I'd never hurt it."

"Corporate bullshit," Mira barks around her mouthful of rice ball, white grains spraying onto the ground as she does. 

"We'd love to hear you sing sometime, Rumi!" Zoey clasps her hands together, eyes wide and cheeks puffed into a deadly cute pout. "Please, please, please, please?"

"You have to dance with me," Mira adds on. "I need to see an idol's muscle memory in action."

"I haven't... I stopped proper training years ago!" the omega stammers as two sets of puppy eyes get turned on her. "I only sometimes work with trainees now." When that doesn't lessen the fierce staring, Rumi throws her head back with a sigh. "Fine. I'll show you sometime." The omega rolls her eyes at the sudden pitching of excited cheers, obviously played up, and swats at the two alphas giddily emoting their excitement. "Yeah, yeah. Alphas. So pushy."

“Delivery for one Ryu Rumi!”

Rumi turns, long braid falling off her shoulder to brush against the brick of the wall the three were perched on. The trio has moved to a small garden on the base floor. A small area with a few trees and an odd bench. Smoothed rocks paneling a raised flowerbed bursting with colorful buds. Rumi showed it to them with an annoyed pout on her face, keycard in hand to get through the door.

“My Ma has forbidden me from the roofs,” the omega had grumbled as she led them into the small garden. “But I managed to convince her to let us use this instead.”

The two alphas stiffen at the voice. Zoey rolls out of Mira’s lap, gathering herself onto her palms and the pads of her feet in a crouch, slanted in front of Rumi like a guard dog. Mira fluidly rises to her feet, stepping in front of the two girls. Their pheromones thicken in the air, salt and spice permeating the area. There’s a stranger in the garden, this garden that Rumi needed a keycard to get in.

It’s a man, tall and broad shoulders. Aesthetically pretty in an annoying kind of way. The kind of guy Mira could imagine her parents trying to pair her up with. His neutral scent meant he had to be a beta. In theory, it should soothe her hind mind, at least a little. Her instincts should view a beta as less of a threat than another alpha. Especially with Zoey with her. A two on one? No competition. Mira still wants to punch this guy…

“How’d you get in here?” Mira growls at the man as he kicks the door closed.

“Woah, Rums,” the stranger goes as he sniffs the air. “You got new guard dogs, or something?”

“Guys, guys, it’s okay,” Rumi reassures as Mira starts forward. Latching onto the dancer’s wrist, the omega gently tugs Mira back a step. Pushes Zoey back onto just her feet so she’s not on all fours like an animal. “I know this one. Jinu! What are you doing here?”

“Do you know what I had to do to find you, Ryu Rumi?” the dark-haired man exclaims. “I had to call your mother. Your mother ! She hates me!”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Rumi denies with an eyeroll, side-stepping around Mira to head toward this Jinu. “She just doesn’t like you.”

“I’m touched, Ru, truly,” Jinu responds sarcastically and shifts the carrier in his arms. “I didn’t even do anything! She hates me on principle.”

Rumi chuckles, arms crossed over her chest as she steps closer, “What are you doing here?”

The dark-haired man lifts the pet carrier up a little higher. There’s a muffled sound that comes from it at the movement.

“I am delivering our son to you. Because someone’s been ignoring her phone.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Rumi apologizes, hand coming up to fiddle with her hair. “Stuff’s happened… I meant to call.”

“Apologize to our son ! He was abandoned by his only mother. What a cruelty.”

Rumi unzips the pet carrier, reaching inside with a coo and heaving out a ball of fur. Mira narrows her gaze onto the thing. It’s a cat… she thinks. A large, blue cat with the most dead-eyed stare and a tongue that seems to refuse to stay in its mouth. Rumi curls the thing to her chest, the feline taking up the length of her torso as it lags bonelessly in her arms. It lets out a warbled purr and knocks its furry head into Rumi’s chin.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Mira!” Zoey gasps as she zips to standing and immediately bursts over to look at the creature in Rumi’s arms. “Oh my god, so cute! He? She? Pets?”

Rumi laughs, a full belly thing that throws her head back. The cat follows the arch of her head, tipping further back until it drapes over her arm like a towel. 

“Yes, he’s a he and yes, you can pet him.” Rumi readjusts the weight in her arms. “This big fella is Derpy. I share him with Jinu.”

“His. Name. Is. Derpy?” Zoey squeals, the octave only rising as Rumi drops the cat into her arms. The small alpha lets out a puff of air at the unexpected weight and plops herself onto the bench to coddle the cat’s face. “Oh, you are a big boy! Yes, you are!”

“And to answer your question,” Rimu pivots to point at Mira, the alpha still staring at the cat like an unknown stain on the wall. “We don’t know; we found him that way. The vet says it just seems like a lazy eye and that he seems pretty healthy. If you mean the color, Jinu’s friends are little shits. But it's pet safe.”

“Language, Rumi, language,” Jinu tsks and waves a finger in her face. “What would the lawyers say? They’d give me full custody.”

“You realize that my name’s on his paperwork, right?” Rumi asks as she leans down to scratch at Derpy’s ears. She smiles softly at the deep purr that rises up and chuffs at Zoey’s excited gasp. 

A soft timbre murmurs in her ear. “Hey, how you been doing?” Jinu sidles up beside Rumi, lays a hand on her shoulder. Rumi turns toward him, shoulders slack. Gives him a small smile, a soft one. 

Mira narrows her eyes at the movement.

Who the fuck is this guy?

“Good. Really. We’ll catch up, promise.”

“Mmm.” The man straightens, gives Rumi’s shoulder another squeeze. “I got to get back, but meet up soon?”

“Of course. Take care.”

“You too. Derpy, my boy, I’ll have the house ready for your return,” Jinu tells the cat, giving him a pat. “I know the divorce is hard on you.”

“Oh, shut up,” Rumi snarks and shoves at him as Jinu passes to the door. 

The omega huffs in amusement as she settles into the seat next to Zoey, rubbing Derpy under the chin. The cat purrs, blue fluff vibrating with the force. With heavy steps, Derpy pads over to Rumi’s lap and kneads at her legs.

“You have split custody of a cat?” Mira drawls as she slowly approaches, eyeing the cat like it might bite her.

“Jinu and I found him when we were still dating. After the breakup, we agreed to split custody. Every month, he swaps houses. And I miss you so much when you’re with Jinu!”

Mira meets eyes with Zoey, both having stiffened at the words. Rumi, oblivious to the sudden stillness and too preoccupied cooing praises into Derpy’s fur, doesn’t notice the way the smell of spice and salt strengthens. Zoey’s brown eyes stare at her mate’s, wide and flickering between Mira and the omega. Mira just shrugs, her own face slack with disbelief.

That’s her ex?!

Chapter Text

There’s a whiteboard that Zoey keeps in the apartment. She dragged it up the stairs one day when Mira had been at the studio and set it up in the living room. For her brainstorms, she insisted as Mira rubbed her face in exasperation. Mira lets her keep it despite it taking up a good section of the wall behind the couch. It normally has random lyrics, ramblings about parameters and beats per minute. Mira puts little doodles on it in pink: an anime cat, a fire-breathing dragon, a crying ramen bowl, and a heart with their initials in it. 

That’s all erased now (except for the heart, Zoey keeps it even though it’s smack center). Instead- a crime board… investigation board? Evidence board? Evidence board! Mira had stolen the magnets off the fridge, little gummy bears, and cat paws holding up photos that Zoey had printed off her picture printer. It used a good portion of her ink, but it was worth it! Definitely worth it, she’s sure of it as she watches Mira pin a new picture to the board.

Everything they could find on Rumi and her ex-boyfriend.

Foggy pictures from gossip rags in one corner. Luckily, few to be had. Those pesky snoops! Stalking Rumi and drawing slanderous conclusions. Like the one where she’s seen with Jinu exiting a club. They accused her of doing drugs! The girl who is too timid to tell Mira that the amount of gochujang the alpha added to her lunch was indeed too much and instead ate it until her eyes watered (Mira almost knocked over everyone’s lunch to get the omega water).

There isn’t any coverage on the breakup. Which is good! None of those bastards monetized off Rumi’s pain. Also… a tad inconvenient because they don’t have any info on the breakup. Zoey scribbles out a note next to one of the articles and takes a step back to look at what they got.

“So… he’s-”

“Annoyingly clean,” Mira finishes for her. “Look at this! Model from a failed idol group. Picture perfect beta,” the alpha hisses and points at one of the articles titled, ‘Jinu, formerly of boy group Saja Boys, shows respect to staff at charity event’. 

“Hot and respectful?” Zoey whines and drops her head into her hands.

“No- no way,” Mira smacks a hand against the board, right over the headshot Zoey had pilfered off his industry profile. “No one’s this clean. It’s not possible. So what if-”

“He’s hot? Mira, he has abs. Abs! And an adorable cat. And totally has that gentle beta, ‘I understand you’ kind of face. He’s like, the male lead in a k-drama.”

“He’s obviously not smart if he broke up with Rumi. I bet he’s still an ass. They’re broken up, and he just struts into her space like he owns the place. And using her cat to get close to her!”

“How dare he mess with Rumi’s feelings like that!” Zoey hisses. “Total moron.”

“Delinquent,” Mira agrees. “And he thinks that just because Rumi’s too nice to take the cat that he just, what, gets free access to her time?”

“Besides, Celine hates him,” Zoey adds on with a dedicated nod of agreement. “And she loves Rumi so much! So it’s totally justified; her alpha instincts are probably warning her about something.”

“We can’t let him hurt Rumi. She’s still in a fragile state.” Mira’s mind flashes back to rooftops and journal pages and the feeling of gravity pulling her gut down as the two intertwine. “She’s our friend, we've got to protect her. We need more info on this guy.”

“Hmm!” Zoey hums in agreement and glares at the board. There’s a pop as she uncaps a marker. The cap rolls over her teeth as she gnaws at it. A slight squeak as the rapper circles a bullet. “We start here! Failed idol? Let’s find out why.”

“I’m getting my tablet.”

“Oh, grab one of my empty notebooks too!”

The two of them can be a forceful duo. Zoey knows that. And Rumi, at the moment, is a bit fragile. Like a bug that just shed its carapace, all squishy and vulnerable but also so beautiful with her markings so bright. Rumi trusted that to them, even if she didn’t notice at first. They can’t risk accidentally pushing at her yet. Can’t risk meaning to stroke and accidentally squishing. So they can wait. Wait until Rumi’s recovered, help her put the pieces back together, so that the omega can look out at the world and see that they want to explore it with her. They’ll protect her until then.

There’s nothing wrong with a little slow burn after all. What did Mira say about slow cooking? It makes things tender and tasty! 

But they are still alphas. And it's their instinct to take care of omegas! That day on the roof, Zoey had clung to this… Zoey couldn’t even call Rumi a friend at the time. But she could never call her a stranger. Not since that first day they found her on the roof, bundled up like a pup in their first winter and puffed up like a marshmallow. Definitely not when she had stolen glances at a journal not hers. Guilt clogging her brain, but her fingers clinging to something so familiar, heart reaching out to entangle herself to the girl in the pages.  Zoey looked at that omega huddled into herself alone on the roof and wanted to pull her into her arms. She saw her digging into her own skin, heard her voice what the demons whispered in her ear, and knew that the moment Rumi let her cling on that she would never let go. Could tell from how Mira orbited the omega like a planet circling the sun, letting this newcomer light up parts that only Zoey had seen, that Mira would never let go either. Zoey likes the idea of them all spinning around each other, both gravity and a dance.

They got to protect her. Especially from… unknown men who broke her heart!

Mira lets out a yawn next to her. The other alpha’s glasses are sliding down the slope of her nose. Her tablet glows in the surface of the lenses. Zoey pushes into her mate, smiles as Mira grunts at the sudden weight that falls onto her side, and shifts the tablet to the side.

“Any progress?”

“If I have to see this dude’s face again after this, it will be far too soon,” Mira huffs out as she throws her head back. Her pink hair sways with the movement, puffs up like a mushroom cloud by the force. “One viral debut song, a whistleblower for Gwi-Ma Agency’s inhumane practices, now a model. And way too many selfies.”

Zoey cranes her head to look at the screen. It was indeed a lot of selfies. But he’s stupidly pretty so she can’t even be that annoyed. She snags her mate’s hand to pull it closer and scrolls. Ugh, why is he so symmetrical? And why are his bangs so perfectly swoopy? Zoey can never get hers to do that… 

“He is annoyingly perfect.”

“Ugh, look at these videos too. You can tell he went through idol training.” Mira grumbles as she flicks through shorts of gym workouts and tropey slow-mo edits. With an exasperated sigh, she pushes the tablet into her lap, an aggressive sigh slipping out.  

 A ding notification sounds out.

The two look at each other. Zoey lunges to grab the tablet and lets out a pitched whine, like a tea kettle blowing steam.

“You just liked a post.”

“Whatever, he’s got thousands of followers. It won’t matter…” Mira opens an eye when Zoey restarts her whine. “What? Why are you making that sound?”

“The post is from four years ago… and your face is your profile picture.”

Mira closes her eyes again, a crease furrowing itself between her eyes. Zoey watches her shoulders rise with her chest.

“ Fuuccckkkkkk !”

Chapter Text

It starts with an email. Although Rumi supposes a lot of things for her start with emails. She is, after all, the only person with access to her mother’s work email. The final filter between Celine and whatever her PA’s deemed critical enough to forward. Rumi claims it's not difficult work- knowing what her mother will want to see and what to toss to her staff. Celine’s always been consistent, at least with work. Sunlight Entertainment’s PAs would sacrifice their souls to understand the CEO’s thought process like Rumi did.

Sunlight gets sent emails from all sorts of businesses. Other entertainment agencies looking to collab. Smaller companies looking for sponsors. Rumi has seen many in the few years she’s been entrusted with the bursting inbox. The omega has attended many of the succeeding events. Galas, charity balls, brand deals, building openings. She’s used to them. Used to pressing against her Ma in the car and soaking in that last bit of comfort before stepping out into flashing lights. 

This is different, though.

Rumi is the only one allowed unrestricted access to the top floor of the building where her mother resides. Celine insists it's because Rumi is her heir- that this building is theirs. Rumi is pack, the only pack Celine has left, and pack shares. HR will say behind closed doors that it's because Rumi’s the only one who could barge in without her windpipe being removed.

Celine looks up as her whelp bursts out of the elevator. If the alpha focuses, she can catch the slightest hint of umami in the air. Rumi stops before her desk, laptop already open, with wide eyes. 

Puppy eyes. 

“Yes, Rumi?” Celine turns her gaze to her daughter, but doesn’t rotate away from her monitor.

“We got a sponsorship inquiry.”

“What’s your stance on this inquiry?”

Rumi shuffles, nudges the computer closer to her mother. Celine turns fully, lets her daughter’s face fully fill her vision. She glances down at the laptop, skims over the email. Looks back at her whelp. 

“I’ll handle it, I promise! It would be good PR, don’t you think?”

“Rumi…” Celine trails off. Big brown eyes. Her pup’s eyes, round and curious gazing up at her from the crib. Mi-Yeong’s eyes, bright and warm, gazing at her from behind a pamphlet. The alpha sighs, focuses back on her computer. The sound of a typing keyboard fills the air. “Fine.”

“Can I bring some staff with me?”

The clatter of keycaps quiets. Celine takes in a breath, holds it. Rumi stares at the side of her head. Eye’s wide. A small whine, barely audible, slips through the office. The alpha pushes her bangs out of her face, hooks them around her ear.

“Remember that you’re representing the company. Representing me.”

Rumi is around the desk before Celine finishes the sentence, burrowing her face into her mother’s hair. She nudges against the alpha’s temple, noses the scent gland there with a happy purr. There’s a puff of umami in the air. Celine breathes it in, noses at her daughter’s nape. They hold that pose for a moment before Rumi pulls away, gives a thankful bow and skitters out of the room. 

The elevator dings closed, taking her whelp with it to the lower levels. It takes the scent of an omega with her. The collar Rumi wears smothers any lasting scent. Still, Celine swears she can smell an omega. A burst of buttercup, yellow and bright.

“Yes, yes,” Celine mumbles to no one . “I know, I spoil her.”

 Rumi has access to Bobby which means she had access to Mira and Zoey's work schedule, should she desire to ask for it. She considers it briefly. An appointment request over email would be sufficient. It would do the job she needs it to do. It feels too cold, though. Stagnant. Like niceties that aren't genuine. Zoey and Mira are too warm for that. So instead she digs through her drawers for papers that have been waiting for years and grabs her favorite pen from its holder.

Rumi started tottering through the building as a toddler, before she had even mastered walking. Before that point, her parents split who stayed home with their pup- juggling emails in one hand and a wandering Rumi in the other. Staff would occasionally suggest that they find Rumi a nanny. Other parents offered referrals and contact info. Celine would often have to grab Rumi from Mi-Yeong when that happened and distract her pup with little raspberries blown into her cheeks. For the omega always snarled at the idea of someone else getting their hands on their pup.  If the alpha didn’t interfere, Rumi would sniff her Mama’s irritation from where she usually nuzzled herself into the crook of Mi-Yeong’s neck and let out a distressed whine. Only further aggravating her Mama and feeding into a cycle of some poor fool trying to backtrack and further upsetting Mi-Yeong’s until eventually someone dropped tears. Usually, Rumi, sometimes an employee. 

Rumi can hazily recall spending many days gripped onto one of her parents in the rooms of this building. After her schooling finished and she took on proper hours, her Ma had pulled her aside and slipped a small package into her hands. 

“Your mother left these for you, for when you started properly.”

A stack of stationary. Separated into groups of pinks and greens and purples with little suns dotting the edges. Rumi slid them into the safety of her desk drawer. Told herself to make them last. 

Rumi takes two from the neat piles, one pink and one green. To ensure that her favorite purple pen didn’t blend into the colored card stock. Mirrored invitations differing only by the name printed at the top. A little crosseyed cat next to each signature. 

…

“Please tell me this isn’t a joke.”

Rumi's laugh is muffled by Zoey’s hair as she loosely wraps her arms around the alpha to return the hug. Sweet taffy fills the air, layered with the brisk salt of a beachside vacation. The omega resists the urge to bury her nose into her friend’s hair. 

“Not a joke,” Rumi assures as she is released. “Promise. But we will be late if we don’t get going.” She pauses for a moment before her lips quirk, “Which, if you read it when you got here, you would have known.”

“Never letting Zoey get the papers again,” Mira groans as she pulls open the door to the car. 

They pile into the car. Zoey pulls Rumi between them as they all squish onto one row, despite the car being lined with multiple. The omega huffs in amusement as she’s squished between two bodies. She frees herself to knock on the privacy divider, and they all jerk as the car starts forward.

“This is the best job ever.”

Rumi barks out a laugh, scrolling through her phone to bring up the itinerary. 

“Unfortunately, the fun PR events are limited. I managed to convince Ma on this one though.”

“Music of the ocean! What convincing is needed?” Zoey squeals as she thumbs through the packet Rumi had left with the invitations. “An aquarium visit that I get paid for!”

Rumi and Mira meet eyes, both amused. Rumi agrees that the peppy alpha, an immersive exhibit based on animal communication and underwater acoustics, is the perfect connection to Sunlight Entertainment. For the aquarium at least. Rumi’s aware that funneling money for a donation that, at best, pulls in some publicity and can be used as a tax write-off isn’t the most efficient use of funds. However, the omega thinks that her Mama would approve and the money is, officially from Mi-Yeong’s memorial funds. Her girls get to go with her to the aquarium to see the exhibit before it opens to the public, her Mama gets a memorial in the exhibit with the whale songs, and she can check off her PR appearance for the month.

Rumi considers it a win.

A beta greets them at the door, already bowing as the group exits the car. 

“Rumi-nim! It is an honor.”

Rumi returns the bow, the two alphas beside her following her movements. She straightens back up and gives the guide a practiced smile.

“The honor is ours. These are my associates, Mira and Zoey. Thank you for accommodating us.”

“Of course, of course. Come! Let’s show you the exhibit.”

Zoey vibrates beside her as they are led through the aquarium. She whispers facts into her ear as they stop before each tank. Echoing or even beating their guide to the punchline. Mira keeps herself one step behind the two of them, urging Zoey forward when she lags behind to press her nose to the glass.

The alpha’s long hair falls over her shoulder as Mira bends to be level with Rumi. Warmth fills her nose.  She breathes it in subconsciously, lets the pheromones settle in her palate. Spice in her nose, bursting flavor on her tongue. Heat floods under her cheeks as she realizes what she just did.

“I don’t think you could have picked a better place for Zo,” Mira murmurs into her ear, slow and raspy as they watch Zoey zoom over to a touch pool.

Rumi chokes out a sound of agreement. Ignores how her heart seems to jump in her throat and flees to where Zoey is elbow deep and reaching for a stingray. Zoey pivots toward her, causing the stingray that had glided under her hands to flap away at the movement.

“Rumi! Look, look! Aren’t they cute?” Zoey reaches out to graze the wing of a ray as it passes by. “These are cownose sting rays! Officially, they’re venomous, but obviously, they clip their barbs. It doesn’t hurt though!”

Zoey grasps one of Rumi’s hands, and the omega jolts at the cold touch. The alpha entangles their fingers, keeping Rumi’s spread by shoving her own in between. Rumi whines quietly under her breath, feeling the heat beneath her cheeks deepen. Zoey knocks their shoulders together and pushes Rumi’s sleeve up with a wet hand.

“You know, there are stingrays with spots! The yellow stingray kind of has patterns like you. Yours are way prettier though,” Zoey insists as Mira siddles up beside her mate.

“They gave us stingray food,” Mira said as she tipped the mixture of clams and shrimp pieces into Zoey’s awaiting hand.

“Here!” Zoey chirps and pulls their still joined hands out of the water to deposit her bounty into Rumi’s hands. 

She flips their hands over and reaches toward one of the stingrays that is approaching. Its rounded snout nudges against Rumi’s hand before a suction pulls the food out of her head. The omega squeals of the sensation, jerking their combined hands back and causing the stingray to flap water at them in protest. It soaks her cardigan, and Zoey peals out a laugh as she’s dragged away from the pool’s edge. Mira snickers off to the side and steps forward to pull the soaked cardigan off the omega.

“Feels weird, right?”

“You knew!” Rumi gasps out as she shakes the water off her hands. She flings the remaining droplets at Zoey’s laughing face. “Traitors, the both of you.”

“Believe it or not,” Mira drawls out sarcastically as she eyes Zoey, who is back at the touch pool. “This is where we had our first date in Seoul. She got me with the slimy vacuums too.”

“They’re not slimy,” Zoey insists with a pout. “They’re so soft! Come o,n Rumi, I won’t make you feed them again if you don’t want.”

Rumi warily approaches the tank, Mira at her side. She lets Zoey grab her arm again, carefully grazing the wing of a stingray as it passes her to get to the snack in the alpha’s hand. Zoey is right, they are soft. Soft like Zoey’s hand in her own. Mira leans into her side and the content warmth of spice fills Rumi’s nose.

The omega sheepishly smiles at their guide, who waves off her worries about timetables. She’ll pull the duo back on track soon. But for this moment… 

For this moment she lets Zoey grip her hand and savors the taste of spice in the air.

Chapter Text

Derpy curls through Jinu’s legs as he saunters into his condo. Rumi is a step behind the feline, toting along the cat’s items in her arms. The beta pets into Derpy’s neck fluff as the cat paws at his legs, a happy purr deep in his throat. He rubs against Jinu’s leg, back arching and leaving behind blue fur strands, before padding over to the window and curling up on the cushion there. A flower planter lines the window pane with a small water dish. Derpy pushes his snout against the glass, breath fogging the window.

“Your friend’s been looking for ya,” Jinu tells the cat. Derpy rotates his head at the sound, crossed eyes staring off to either side. “He already came by today, bud.”

Derpy chuffs and turns back to the window, uncaring of the man’s advice. 

“Changed the flowers I see,” Rumi muses as she settles onto the couch. 

“Every time something knocked the pot over, he’d claw at the glass. I had to buff the glass out!” Jinu complains as he settles next to his friend. His nose twitches as the AC unit blows through the room. “You smell weird.”

“Rude,” Rumi knocks Jinu with an elbow. “You’re smelling my friend, Mira. She loaned me her sweater today after Zoey spilled sauce on mine.” The omega pauses for a moment. “Oh, you saw them when you dropped off Derpy last month.”

“Those two alphas?” Jinu asks as he sniffs at Rumi’s braid. Smothered in spice and laced with salt, warm like the sand toasting under the sun at the beach. He can barely smell Rumi underneath it, her umami weaving between the two smells. “Did little Ruru make some friends? I’m so proud of you!” the beta cooed and grabbed at one of Rumi’s cheeks in a pinch.

“Get off!”

“You reek of them,” Jinu teases as Rumi bats at his face. “Does your mother know, young lady?”

“It’s- it’s not like that!” Rumi insists with flushed cheeks. “They’re just protective. All alphas are!”

Jinu blinks blankly at her. Tries to see if he can smell the sour edge Rumi gets when she lies. He doesn’t find any, just the strong smell of unknown alphas and Rumi’s wide eyes staring at him. Painfully earnest, the same look he remembers from when he was fifteen and they had met in the dark corridors backstage. He, an upstart trainee preparing to debut, and she, the heiress of an enemy label. Jinu, tangled by the threads of a power bigger than himself, and Rumi, choking under the weight of her own legacy. Twin stars, burning but freezing in the vast expanse of the world.

The beta has watched Rumi collapse in on herself since they met. An omega planted in too dark a shadow to ever have figured out how to grow, never let someone dig up her roots to put them somewhere new. Instead, reaching for whatever warmth the world would throw at her- mistaking the artificial light for the sun she needed to grow. Even when they dated, a push from headlines and held together by familiarity, the girl had been burning out. Freezing over with a frostbite crawling along her skin. They were twin souls made of the same stardust. Not in the way of mates fitting together to make new colors, not pack. But in the way that water clings to other droplets and mirrors reflect what they see.

Jinu knew Rumi. So he shouldn’t be surprised, not really. Still… how can she be this dense?!

“You’re an idiot.”

“Jinu!”

The beta ignores the offended gasp and continues on. “Look, I guess I get that you have like no experience with alphas. But they are totally into you.”

“I live with an alpha!”

“She’s your mother! That obviously doesn’t count,” Jinu huffs out with an exasperated sigh. 

"I work with them too!" Rumi adds, straightening up in irritation. Derpy turns to face both of them, eyes split between the two. Her scent spikes beneath the layers of spice and salt.

"Again, your mother. You know," Jinu crosses his arms as he levels Rumi with an unamused look. "The one known for being a head alpha bitch to those that piss her off? The one that threatened to blacklist me from every modeling agency in Seoul after we broke up?"

Rumi rolls her eyes and stomps off to scratch Derpy at the window, "Ma wouldn't actually do that."

Jinu stares at the back of his best friend's head. He wipes at his face and meets eyes with Derpy. The cat's tongue twitches, but otherwise, he merely blinks at the beta, one eye lagging behind the other. Jinu wishes he could be that carefree. Leave it to Rumi to be as thick as a brick. See, this is why he tried to convince her to go out more when they were teenagers. Rumi is harder to socialize than Derpy had ever been, but almost just as clueless (perhaps pets do take after their owners). How she, as an omega no less, managed to get to her age without recognizing when eyes follow her? Jinu doesn't know... 

"No fucking wonder they looked ready to murder me that day," Jinu mumbles to himself as he depresses into the couch.

Jinu thinks back to how the two had curled around Rumi like angry dragons. The one protectively crouched in front of her, coiled to pounce, and the other was already on the offensive, teeth bared to bite. Guarding from a threat to their claim. And Rumi told them they're exes?! That explains the random notification he got at midnight. Potentially also the crawling itch that ran along his spine the few times he met Rumi after work. Hunters, those two. Scheming predators, foxes in the underbrush, trying to gauge if he was a threat or food. Circling and calculating, organized in their dedication... This is why Jinu didn't bother with alphas, one-track-minded creatures. Especially any that decided to claim Rumi- it seems that she draws the dangerous ones. Leave it to her to attract the attention of two at once, a pair no less.  Polyamorous packs typically consisted of groups of betas and omegas, with potentially one alpha. Trios, usually, one of each for balance. Multiples are uncommon in packs, especially alphas, due to their inclination for infighting. 

Rumi, the poor whelp. No idea what was pursuing her.

"You know," Jinu starts, "Denial isn't going to help the situation."

"I'm not in denial. They don't like me like that... they're just protective."

Rumi quiets, lips pursing and scent souring slightly. Her mind sinking into whatever dark pit had formed in her head. Jinu's face furrows as he watches it happen. He rises to stand beside her, one hand on her forearm as an anchor. She turns to him and presses her forehead against his shoulder. A practiced routine, engraved into muscle memory from years of traveling on parallel orbits.

"Did something happen?" 

"No," Rumi answers too quickly and winces as she outs her own lie. "Well, yes, but I don't wanna talk about it. The point is, they're just protective after what happened. Nothing more." 

Jinu drops it, uninterested in making Rumi sour further. For the moment, at least. Rumi’s got to face the world eventually. It’s his duty as her best friend to make her… even if it means pushing her to the wolves a little. 

The beta has a feeling that they might prey on him instead.

Chapter Text

Zoey goes through a lot of phases. Dolphins through then, she insists, breaching from one hobby to the next and never slowing down. Once, it was crocheting, where disfigured little penguins and turtles flopped over every open surface with crooked smiles and beady eyes. Mira insisted the things looked demonic, but kept one on her nightstand to protect her phone. Another time, it had been Greek mythology after she dug up her childhood books from the abyss of the closet. To which she subjected Mira to an entire Reddit thread arguing over whether Hades would’ve been an alpha or omega. She thinks back to it now, of humanity weaving itself into mythos. The Greeks were known for their tales, after all. Of human folly and triumph and tragedy. 

Zoey thinks that she and Mira have landed themselves in one.

“Ma and I always make dinner. It’s our thing together,” she had told them once with an apologetic smile after turning down their invitation to get ice cream. 

Zoey, in the rational section of her brain, is happy that Rumi still has pack time with her mother. It’s a small reassurance to know the omega has a strong bond with the only pack she had left. That, despite the darkness that tries to root into Rumi’s mind like a festering bug, Rumi had a pack member to look out for her. Rumi had two more begging to protect her, if she’d let them.  Rumi’s relationship with her Ma is a heartwarming one.

Mira insists it's a metaphorical cockblock (a small portion of Zoey agrees). 

It has been difficult getting Rumi’s attention outside of their daily lunches. It seems that being the heiress to one of the largest entertainment labels in the country leads to very little free time. Rumi is constantly bustling around the building or at events in the name of her mother. After work, Rumi had her dinners, and no weekends had opened up in the month they knew her. Today had been their chance! 

Then Jinu had been waiting outside the door with that stupid, easygoing smile. They had managed to wrangle Rumi into getting boba with them after work, but now Jinu is eating into their time. Rare time. Truly, an act against them by some higher force. Punishment, Zoey is sure, for something. 

Rumi’s scent picks up at the sight of him, a burst of flavor in the air. She steps away from where she's sandwiched between the two alphas, ignorant to the kick of spice and salt that grew heavy around her, trying to cling to her skin and seep into her hair. Zoey doesn't release the arm wound in hers, lets it slide its way out so that their wrist rubs together, knowing it would leave a trace. She can feel the heat of Mira's irritation as she closes the gap between them that Rumi's absence leaves. Hear the slight rumbling growl seeping out of the other's ribcage.

That beta is hanging off Rumi again. 

Zoey fingers tap against her arm in an increasing pace- her irritation jacking marks into the skin. The sharp tip of her canines dip into the flesh of her cheek as Jinu swings an arm around Rumi's shoulders. The beta leans in too close, nose to Rumi's hair, to whisper in her ear, and Rumi chokes on her own breath- face turning red. Red like Mira's own. Zoey can see the angry flush starting to bloom under her skin, made only more obvious by the saturation of her hair. Rumi nudges foreheads with the beta, an action they had only seen her do with Celine before. It's playfully more aggressive, a headbutt more than a nuzzle that forces Jinu away from her, but her scent is still pleasantly fragrant.

Zoey wants nothing more than to breathe it in and punch the source in the gut. 

"I wanna punch him so bad," Mira mutters under her breath as she winds an arm around Zoey's waist to ground herself.

"No way," Rumi deadpans, arms crossed and nose raised (beautifully haughty) at the beta as he clasps hands in front of him in a plea. "They're your friends, Jinu, not mine."

"I'm your only friend, Ruru," Jinu immediately responds and dodges the hand trying to slap at his shoulder. "So violent! This is why we broke up."

"I have friends!" Rumi hisses and goes to jab at him again, only for her wrist to get caught mid-swing. "And we broke up because you're a pain in my ass."

"You just couldn't handle my fans," Jinu coolly rebuts as the two jostle each other around. "I understand, the competition was steep."

"Your biggest fans were grandmas! There was no competition, besides, I would've won anyway! I'm a Ryu! We're everyone's type," Rumi snarls out as she kicks at Jinu's shin.

"Definitely," Zoey blurts out. 

Mira jerks slightly beside her, eyes darting to Zoey and raised in question. Zoey doesn't know, though. Couldn't for the life of her explain why she just blurted that out loud. Not that it isn't true. Rumi is everyone's type, ideally, aesthetically perfectly beautiful. With her genetic line? It isn't even a surprise. It's common knowledge, a fact even. A law of nature that even the grimiest of bad lighting couldn't ruin. Ryu Rumi is objectively hot! No one could fault Zoey for agreeing.

The silence wanes between the four of them.

"I mean," Zoey stammers to fill the yawning void. "It's so obvious, right? She's the daughter of a Sunlight Sister. Their visual, no less! And she's like a spitting image of Mi-Yeong at her age. Like you've had to have seen their album art- you could photoshop Rumi's face onto it and not notice!"

Rumi's face furrows, brows curling up adorably between her eyes as she looks at Zoey, "Were you a fan of my Mama?"

"Did you have a crush on Rumi's mom?" Jinu immediately follows up.

"No!" Zoey insists harshly as Rumi's face immediately blanches at the idea. Zoey is lying. She hurriedly rushes over to Rumi, intent on making it obvious that she does not have interest in any of Rumi's parents. Even if both of them are, objectively, hot by society's beauty standards. "I mean, yes, I was a fan, but I didn't have a crush! I just meant you're pretty! Anyone would want to date you!"

"Regardless of your parents," Mira adds in an attempt to rescue her drowning mate. "Like, you obviously won the genetic lottery, but that's not the only reason anyone would be lucky to have you." Mira nudges her chin out to motion at Jinu, "That one is clearly an idiot."

"It seems you're an idiot," Rumi ribs smugly as she disentangles herself from Jinu. She proudly stands in front of the two alphas who took her side, hands confidently placed on her hips, and chin held high. A trace of smugness in the air. Confidence oozes out of her pores and sweetens the air like sugar. 

Zoey could tell Mira was salivating over it. She can't blame the girl; she is too.

"Woo, you got your two groupies to agree with you," Jinu taunts as she fixes his collar and shirt cuffs.

"My friends," Rumi emphasizes the word, "Because I do have friends that aren't you, agree with me."

Zoey preens slightly at Rumi's cocky little smirk. The omega's mouth curled like a cat that got the cream. She holds in her happy rumble that she and Mira had caused that burst of umami in the air. Jinu looks at Rumi with raised brows, glances at the two alphas glowering at him from behind the omega. He crosses eyes with Zoey, who huffs in defiance at the eye contact, before shifting to Mira's glaring squint. The beta gives a lazy smirk, and Zoey can feel Mira vibrate next to her in restrained irritation.

"Sure, friends," Jinu tauntingly hangs the word in front of the alphas. His smirk widens as the smell of heat and summer storms sharpens the air. Mira stiffens, ready to lunge, and Zoey grasps the arm around her waist to tether her. "Well, as your best friend, I have superior hierarchy and think you should reconsider. It's a good business opportunity."

"Make an appointment if you're going to talk work," Mira interjects, fed up with this beta strutting around like a peacock in front of their noses.

"Yeah, we booked this Rumi time!" Zoey puffs out, latching forward to clasp onto the omega's arm. 

Stupid beta with his stupid model smile and his stupid, stupid dummy face! Trying to encroach on their Rumi time like a little thief. Waving his bond to the omega they want right in their faces.  He had his chance!

"You gonna let these alphas boss you around, Ru?" Jinu teases, and Zoey tightens her grip on Mira.

Rumi, oblivious to it all, merely rolls her eyes. She tugs Zoey a step back, bringing Mira, who's still latched around her mate's waist with her, and pivots away with a sway of her braid.

"Goodbye, Jinu."

"Can you at least think on it?" Jinu asks as the group leaves him.

"Goodbye, Jinu."

Zoey can't help herself. She sticks her tongue at the man when Rumi isn't looking.

...

"I think you're overthinking it."

Zoey watches from the side of the dance studio, notebook open but ignored with a pencil in the binding. She watches the arc of Rumi's braid as the omega crosses the smooth paneling. She pulls off her cardigan, or well, Mira's cardigan, to tie it around her waist. It’s the yellow one that the alpha had pressed over her shoulders that day. Its return had been attempted multiple times. The first neatly folded and laundered by Rumi, only for Mira to forget it in the garden when they realized they were running late for a meeting. Rumi steals it back at the aquarium after the stingrays soaked her, and neither of them had remembered to take it back when they parted. Then Zoey spilled sauce on the omega during lunch, and Mira pulled out the cardigan from the depths of her bag like she never actually brought it home. Partly true, Mira brings it home- she just never took it out of her work bag. Regardless of how many times the omega returns it, Mira's decided that it's now Rumi's sweater. 

Zoey can understand why; she looks amazing in it. Especially with it wrapped around her waist, the galaxies on her arms contrasting against the bright color. The omega stretches her limbs, purple braid swaying across its sunny background. Zoey watches it sway with the same entrancement as a Newton’s cradle, the intricate braid following a step behind each movement before settling against the curve the sweater makes with her backside.

God, that cardigan’s a blessing.

“This song is relatively simple. Your choreography is ingenious, but the song itself doesn’t have the beats to keep up,” Rumi critiques as she places a hand on the dancer’s shoulder. “You’re trying to keep a certain movement, right?”

“I want the twirling effect,” Mira confirms as Rumi moves past her to restart the song.

“Remember that the costumes can work with you, not just look pretty. You can stipulate that the performers need certain things to make the routine work. Let’s pretend I’m in a proper flowy outfit and not a cardigan- watch that kick step you had with this instead.”

Rumi sways to the beat, lets the music sink into her. On the downbeat, she jerks into motion- gracefully twirling across the floor to the instrumental. With a sharp turn, she pivots directions as the meter shifts. The sweater lags behind her with her braid, billowing behind her like a small set of wings as she shifts into the next stance. With practiced ease, she brings herself back to center and flashes the two an idol smile.

“A little less cluttered, right?”

“How the fuck did you figure that out?” Mira asks, excitement pitching her tone just slightly. 

“Ma had been lead dancer. She’s very critical about choreography and very vocal about her opinions.” Rumi shrugs her shoulders. “You pick things up.”

“You’re amazing. You picked up a dance you’ve barely seen and simplified the motions. Why are you doing desk work?” Mira presses as she closes the gap between them.

“It was only that small portion,” Rumi rebukes the praise. “Nothing that impressive.”

“You’re bullshiting.”

“Mira!”

“No, no! She’s right,” Zoey adds in. “You’re amazing, Rumi!”

“Well, Mira has good choreography,” Rumi blushes as the song shifts. A familiar rhythm starts to pulse through the speakers. The omega perks at the sound. “Is this a Sunlight Sisters song?”

“Blame Zoey,” Mira immediately throws her mate under the bus and ignores the other alpha’s squawk of indignation. “Her computer.”

“As if you don’t know the dance by heart!” Zoey blurts out as she stands, ready to defend her pride. 

“It was for learning purposes only,” Mira insists and jerks when Rumi grabs at her arm.

“Dance with me?” the omega asks shyly, looking up at the taller girl with a small smile. “This was my Mama’s favorite routine, probably because Ma designed it around her. Zoey, do you know it too?”

The three fall into the beat. Rumi taking Mi-Yeong’s solo part. They watch her turn and spin, orbiting her like she’s a sun. Zoey thinks back to mythology, of flying too close to the sun. 

Zoey meets Rumi’s eyes in the mirror as they center. The glow of happiness bubbling in them makes her falter, miss a step. She burns away in the warmth the omega emits, toppling over her own legs. She crashes into Rumi, who fails to keep them upright, and eventually into Mira as the two snowball to the ground.

“Sorry! Sorry!”

Rumi just laughs. A full belly thing that curls her body and shakes her torso. She lets the two alphas pull her up, each of her hands in one of their own.

“I forgot how fun it can be,” Rumi whispers between them. 

“You should do it more,” Mira rasps out.

Zoey nods in agreement, not trusting her voice not to pulverize whatever thoughts tried to escape. Rumi shrugs, a small smile on her face. There’s the savory smell of a home-cooked meal in the air. An ambrosia of nostalgia that Zoey sucks in. 

Rumi texts them later that evening, excitedly telling them about how she decided to be a guest dancer in a mutual’s video. They learn the next day that Jinu’s request had been that she join him and his old bandmates for said video. The omega smiles at them, grasps their hands as she tells them that she wouldn’t have ever considered it if they hadn’t danced with her. She sheepishly tells them that she won't be free for some lunches in the upcoming weeks.

Zoey smiles, congratulates Rumi on her opportunity, and laments whatever higher being there is for cursing her so.

Chapter Text

Jinu sighs as he tosses his work phone to the side. Derpy perks at the sound, head tilting with unblinking eyes. It makes him look more owl than cat- adorably terrifying as his tongue pokes out between his teeth.

Fucking Baby. Last time he will ever get into that man’s debt. Throwing him into an impromptu modeling gig. Blackmailing him into it, too! That innocent face is such a facade, Jinu’s never getting drunk in front of that convining omega again. He deflates into his couch, face-first into the couch cushion. With a blind hand, he patted around for his personal cell. Stared crosseyed at the text, fading into focus.

Can you take Derpy for the week? I have a shoot out of town. 

The little checkmark appears next to the message, and the little dots showing Rumi’s activity pop onto the screen.

I’m leaving tomorrow and I’m not home until Sat night T-T. W/ my Ma for a thing.

A slight pause, the dots flickering on and off the screen. His phone dings.

I’ll ask if the girls can look after him for a few days. Or Bobbi.

Jinu can only hope she asks Bobbi first.

The girls said yes! I gave them ur number, you can plan drop off w them. Thx <3

The beta sighs. “Fuck you, Baby,” Jinu grumbles as he pushes his hair out of his face. 

…

Rumi tells him to meet them outside one of the dance studios, past what the beta knows are normal hours. He sees them leaning against the wall by the glass doors. The tall one is obviously post-choreo. Her hair is pulled back, but it is sticking to her skin from sweat. Baggy sweatpants lay low on her hips, and that yellow sweater Rumi had been wearing recently is tied around her waist. The shorter one is fiddling with the backpack she’s carrying.

“Late night?” Jinu calls out. A warning for his arrival because the last thing he needs before he leaves is to get his face punched in by two startled mates. 

Sharp eyes pivot to him, narrow in on his approaching figure. As he gets closer, he can vaguely smell Rumi’s scent. Most likely from the sweater tied around her waist, but also lingering on their skin. Even beneath the smell of sweat…

How close has Rumi been getting to these two?

“Stole Rumi’s sweater, I see.”

“It’s Mira’s. Rumi just thinks it's cozy, and who can say no to that face?” the dark-haired one, what did Rumi say her name was… Zoey? Zoey says and parts her lips to show sharp teeth. “Besides, we figured Derpy would like something that smells like her while she’s gone.”

Bullshit… those alphas will be nosing it more than Derpy ever will.

“Heard you’re pulling our Rumi into some dance thing,” Zoey continues as she winds her way around her mate. It causes the other to chuff and push into the crook of her neck.

Jinu looks away politely, uninterested in seeing public affection between mates. He still catches the way the pink-haired one smirks at him. How she presses against Zoey and lets the sweater bunch between their bodies, smothering them both in whatever leftover scent Rumi had left behind. 

Alphas.

“It’s nice to see her out and about again. She rarely lets herself perform.”

“Our Rumi’s amazing, isn’t she?” Zoey chirps as she burrows under her mate's arms. 

Jinu holds in the eyeroll. Alphas. Such possessive things.

“The cat?” God, what was that one’s name again? Mara? Mia? Something with an M... The M one grunts.

Derpy meows in his carrier. Zoey leaps forward to unzip it, pulling out the mass of fur. The cat purrs as she digs her fingers into his ruff and pushes into the touch. His head pivots, and Derpy faceplants into Zoey’s shoulder, body heaving as he breathes.

“Hello, baby boy! Do you smell your mama?” Zoey cooed as she pulled Derpy from her neck, the same one Rumi had nuzzled into when giving a parting hug. “We miss Rumi too, but don't worry, she’ll be home soon! And Mira and I are gonna roll out the red carpet for you.”

“Thanks for the favor.”

“Anything for Rumi,” Mira grunts out as her mate occupies herself with holding Derpy up like the opening scene from The Lion King. The giant cat dangles in her grip, back paws idly paddling the air by Zoey’s hips. “We’re honored she trusts us.”

“Yeah, we’d do anything for Rumi.”

Point taken.

“She’s a special girl, huh?” Jinu adds and watches as Mira straightens from the wall. 

The two of them are nose to nose this way, almost the same height. Mira corners his gaze this way, dark eyes sharp and prodding. Zoey looks their way, slouched over from the weight of Derpy trying to perch on her back. The scent of spice and salt deepens in the air. Jinu feels the hairs on the back of his neck rise and tingle under the weight of them.

“Unlike anyone we’ve ever met,” Zoey agrees and tilts her head slightly, teeth still bared in a facade of a smile.

“Too nice, though,” Mira grunts. “Too giving. People take advantage of that kind of thing.”

Sharp eyes. Sharper teeth. Jinu rubs at his neck, hoping to ease the itching there. 

“Nobody can mess with Rumi as long as we’re there!” Zoey pipes up.

Gods Rumi… how can she not see what a danger these two are to the public when it comes to her?

…

Jinu picks Derpy back up late in the evening after the train takes him back to Seoul. He stands wearily outside her house, overnight bag still thrown over his shoulder. Rumi had told him he could take Derpy back the next day, but the beta wanted nothing more than to burrow his face into the cat’s fluff and suffocate in it.

The door opens with a muted creak of hinges. Celine eyes him from the threshold, and he straightens on instinct. Years later, and she still scares the shit out of him. Although he supposes he shouldn’t feel too bad about the fact. Celine scares the shit out of everyone besides Rumi (the entirety of his old band could attest to that fact).

“… It’s you.”

“Afternoon ma’am,” Jinu sings out with practiced precision. The kind of neutrality ingrained into him from his idol training. “Just here for Derpy.”

“Wonderful, get that thing away from my sofas.” Celine turns back to the expanse of the house. “Pup! The boy is here!”

Jinu holds in his sigh. He’s not sure if Celine ever bothered to remember his name. Or if she purposefully forgot it after the split. Rumi appears from behind her mother, Derpy sprawled over her shoulders like an obnoxiously blue shawl. 

“Hey! How was the shoot?”

“I’m never letting Baby rope me into anything again…” Jinu groans at the inquisitive look. “It was an underwear shoot. Ya ya, laugh it up,” the beta drawls as the omega snickers.

“Oh, I’m sure that one fan page will go wild for that. You know, the one run by a bunch of old wo-”

“Yes! I know the one,” Jinu interrupts and glares as Rumi erupts into louder peels of laughter. He growls lowly before the ice-cold stare of Celine jabs into his throat to sever his voice box. Right… any perceived aggression in Celine’s presence could lead to his castration. “See you next week? Abby and Romance are looking forward to working with you.”

“Yes, text me if any details change. Oh!” Rumi’s grin widens, “I convinced Ma to let me take the girls with me! Mira’s a prodigy at choreo, and Zoey can keep a beat like a metronome.”

Jinu dares a glance at Celine. The alpha’s face is disgruntled, the sharp bite of spearmint subtle in the air. Well, he supposes Rumi’s been wrapping alphas around her fingers since she was a whelp.

Wait… those two alphas are following Rumi to the event? Around his old group?

… They’re all dead.

Chapter Text

If Mira is being honest- they had not been prepared for the workload that Sunlight had tasked them with. Typically, the dancer has time to cherish each choreography she invents. Coddles them like they are her own pups, nurtured to perfection, one by one. Each receives specialized attention. She doesn't have that sort of time at Sunlight. There, she tinkers and patches. Given partially made visions and having to put together puzzle pieces. 

If Mira is being honest... It's more draining than either of them expected. She no longer has the time to pinch her work into proper form. No longer has the freedom to weave a shaving of her soul into each piece. Most of the time, the pieces are not even hers. She's left to polish another's work, just a footnote in its making.

Rumi smiles at them apologetically, eyes aged from the knowledge of the world she had been born into. Her compassion will be one of the only reprieves their industry will ever afford these two greenhorns trying to break into an industry they had no birthright to. Rumi assures Mira that it's to be expected. That she (and Zoey, who is hefting her own workload) are the proverbial runts of the litter at the moment. That others will push and prod at them like an animal in a cage. To find their limits. To temper their weak points. A rigorous training method. To some extent, even a cruel one. One meant to reforge them, as one breaks a bone to reset it. With challenge comes growth and, with growth, comes strength. Sunlight Entertainment would not be a juggernaut without its power. 

If Mira's being honest (she's lying), she's never been the runt before. She is not like Zoey, whose family has no renown. Not like Zoey, who has been a scrappy whelp all her life, clawing and fighting to claim her spot in the world. Mira had been a whelp with a pedigree, with an inheritance. A birthright that placed her above others her age in the world she had been born into. Not a birthright she desired, but a birthright nonetheless. One that stuffed her belly with privileges that most would never have on a silver spoon. Be it due to her dynamic, her pedigree, or her education, she'd been set up to be the largest fish in the pond. 

(If Mira's being honest) She had been placed by her family and tutors into fish bowls that she was far too large for. Forced to bash into wall after wall and circle endlessly because they did not trust her to grow large enough for deeper waters.

(If Mira's being honest) She, as the youngest as the runt of her family, had a label scribbled onto her that she was never expected to molt. They gave her a territory to claim (a pen to contain her) and never could understand why it never satisfied her. 

Mira's been labeled as a runt, nothing but a small fry in the vastness of the ocean. But she'd been labeled as an heiress and a pawn once, and had bucked both titles before. She'll get rid of this one, too. While she may not have been Zoey, who spent her childhood scraping her knees and getting back up, no one would dare say she is not determined. The kind of vertical movement she desires is going to take time, time she barely has if she wants to progress in any sort of timely manner. So she really should not be spending her work hours accompanying Rumi to a music video set that she has no hand in. She should be in the studio, perfecting movements until her ears bleed from hearing the same repeated sound bite. She should be filing her paperwork or studying past choreography or pestering Bobby into giving actual criticism because the man is just too nice. 

Mira (and Zoey) should be doing a lot of things that aren't sitting on the plush seats of an expensive car being driven out of the city, following the omega they both are hopelessly smitten with to an event barely tangential to their job. But then Mira thinks back to how Rumi had excitedly tugged them into the private garden, blabbering about how she had gotten permission from her Ma (and Bobby, but it's not as if he needed convincing) to have them accompany her to her collab event. How she gave them that tiny little grin and swayed on her feet while she waited for their answer. Zoey had immediately shot her gaze to her, leaving Mira under the weight of two pairs of puppy eyes. 

Zoey will sheepishly grin at her on the walk home when Mira laments her upcoming all-nighter. Will do that crooked smile that rounds her face (the one she first ever smiled at Mira) before her eyes crinkle in knowing mischief.

"Could you really have said no?" Zoey will sing-song, cuddle up into Mira’s side, and accidentally knock into the armful of papers the other alpha is carrying.

"Yes," Mira grunts immediately as she hefts the paperwork back into its place under her arm.

Zoey’s eyes will twinkle, and with lips twisted into a grin, she’ll whisper, "Liar."

...

It's Jinu they find first. Which Mira supposes is to be expected, but irritation still crawls along her skin like a persistent itch. He's in some sort of pink sweater that he looks annoyingly good in, talking to two others outside the studio that serves as the designated meet-up spot. Rumi jolts up a little in excitement. Mira can practically see a tail happily flickering around, like how Derpy gets when he sees a potted plant. Like mother, like son, as Zoey would insist.

Its not Jinu who sees them first. Its one of the other two. Both with hair as pink as Mira’s, tall and broad-shouldered, and smelling like alpha. Zoey tenses up next to her, and Mira doesn’t blame her because she knows she’s stiffened too. The one that noticed them, heart-shaped bangs flopping to the side, smiles at them (at Rumi) with the devastating precision of an ex-idol.

“We meet again.”

“Hey, it’s the nepo baby!” The other one barks out.

Mira feels the growl rip out of her throat before she can catch it. Zoey snarls with her, quieter but lingering after the sharpness of Mira’s fades out. How dare they stab at Rumi’s sensitive heart like that! Diminish her to her bloodlines. As if that same birthright hasn’t also pierced her with fangs sharp?

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Rumi immediately grabs at their arms when she notices the two start to lurch forward. “Abby’s just joking, I promise.”

“Jokes are meant to be funny,” Zoey mumbles as she lets Rumi pull her closer to her. 

Mira’s more stubborn about budging from the step in front she had taken. Rumi tugs insistently at her arm, scent coiling and pleading up to her nose. The dancer bares her teeth.

“Excuse him, he’s all brawn,” the accompanying alpha interjects. “You must treat omegas with a more delicate touch than that,” he scolds Abby and shoulders him out of the way. “I’m Romance. Ex-visual of the Saja Boys. Miss. Ryu, we are honored by your participation in our little reunion event.”

“Romance?” Mira mutters under her breath as Rumi returns the polite bow. 

“I was the only one who didn’t use a stage name,” Jinu explains. “But the ones they gave the others were”

“Stupid.”

“Hey, I’ll take mine over Baby’s any day,” Abby calls out. “It is, after all, based on my best trait.” The alpha flexes his arms.

“It’s the only trait you have,” Rumi snarks out as she passes by them. She smiles at Jinu, pushes into his side in an armless hug. “Despite your name, the only lion thing about you is the size of your pride.”

“Beautiful and biting,” Romance purrs and steps closer to the omega.

“If you get me put into the tabloids again, my Ma will demolish this project,” Rumi warns, and the pink-haired alpha raises his hands in surrender.

“Come on, guys. Ru’s doing us a favor here.” Jinu turns to Rumi, “Baby and Mys are right behind us. Let’s get going.”

Rumi walks in step with Jinu, words flying at hyperspeed as they volley details regarding the video back and forth. It leaves Mira and Zoey trailing behind, hackles raised as those two alphas fall into pace beside them.

“Hello, ladies,” Romance drawls. “Ryu does seem to attract such beautiful company.”

“Brings me back to training days,” Abby adds on. “Popular even amongst the rival agencies. Jinu has always been a lucky bastard.”

“To have an omega like that on his arm? Definitely,” Romance turns his gaze back to the two. “Think they are gonna push that today. Those two together always draw engagement.”

“I doubt Celine will let that slide,” Mira grinds out.

Mira’s going to ensure it. She’ll pry the CEO’s number out of Bobby if need be, if that's what will be needed to get these conniving alphas away from Rumi.

“Definitely, Rumi hates those kinds of rumors.”

Romance hums, looks at the two women next to him before glancing back at where Rumi is shoulder to shoulder with Jinu.

“Might not be rumors, apparently,” a new voice pops up behind them.

Zoey twists automatically toward the noise, Mira’s sharp gaze following and landing on two more coming up behind them. The dancer assumes the remaining two of the former Saja Boys. An omega with bright blue hair, clutching… is that Derpy?

“Jinu’s been hanging around with her again.”

“They did remain close even after the breakup,” Abby thinks aloud. 

“Offered to take him out for drinks after he covered a shoot for me, said he had to go to Rumi’s,” Baby adds as he releases Derpy, who immediately pads ahead of them to get to Rumi.

Mira’s jaw clenches. Zoey huffs next to her, pushing into her mate to help soothe her irritation. These damn Saja Boys. No way Rumi’s getting back with that dumb beta. She would've mentioned something surely. 

“Again?!” Rumi screeches as she holds Derpy to her. She pulls a hand away, stained blue. The omega glares at the four snickering males. “You dyed him, again?!”

Mira supposes Derpy does look more blue than he did the last time they saw him.

“Come on, Ryu,” Baby smiles. “It’s his color!”

“He’s fine, Ru,” Jinu reassures as he gives the cat a pet. “I brought him to help ease your nerves. I’ll even let you take him with you after.” The beta lays a hand on the omega’s shoulder. “He’s perfectly safe… I’ll yell at them later.”

“... Fine,” Rumi pouts and lets Derpy settle onto her shoulders. 

Jinu herds them into a studio, glaring at his old bandmates as he does. He gives the two girls a look.

“They’re idiots… Please don’t kill them.”

“I make no promises,” Mira growls as they shove into the room.

…

Jinu flops into the car seat’s cushion, plants face-first into the steering wheel. What… a… disaster. Those idiots are trying to get them killed. 

“What the fuck did you tell them?” Jinu growls to the air as he jerks upward. Skin still prickling from the adrenaline from getting glared at by two dangerous alphas all day. Each brush against Rumi felt like a tick of the clock closer to his demise.

“Just feeding your fans,” Baby redirected after he cornered that damned omega during a water break. “They were all devastated when Rumi dumped you. Give them some hope.”

A rat, Baby is. A lying little rat that just bit the bear. Poking those two after he warned them all to leave them alone. Lighting a match for the media… Celine might kill him first.

The beta sinks into the seat. Jinu’s made up his mind. He’s hiding in his apartment until this is over.

Chapter Text

“I didn’t know,” Rumi immediately blurts as she stops before her Ma’s desk. 

Celine looks at her through her bangs, a tabloid on her desk, and a video paused on her monitors. Rumi and that beta of hers filling the screen, too close to be considered professional in most instances. The alpha sighs as her whelp shuffles on her feet before her.

“What’s done is done.”

It’s not a dismissal of the act. Rumi knows this and scrunches her shoulders closer to her ears. A small, guilty whine escaping from her as she glances again at the tabloid that her mother had placed before them both. 

It’s not what Rumi meant to happen when she had agreed to guest star in the Saja Boys’ annual reunion piece. Mostly a marketing act to help bolster each one’s careers, fan service to the lingering followers they have left after their label burned to the ground. A favor for Jinu, for the friend who helped keep her afloat through turbulent waters. Not kindling for the media to burn and get high off the noxious fumes. 

“If there’s any truth to this-”

“No! There isn’t! Jinu and I are just friends,” Rumi hastily insists with a definitive shake of her hands. “Trust me, Ma, we tried it and it did not work.”

“It’s just that if I’m going to release a statement on your behalf and then something contradicts-”

“We’re not getting back together!” Rumi screeches, face starting to burn. She hides her face in her hands. “Please, let’s not talk about this ever again.”

Celine rolls her eyes, but drops the topic. She holds out the newly scented collar as a peace offering. Rumi gingerly takes the collar, placing the old one on top of that offensive magazine. When Celine reaches us to graze her cheek, she lets herself nuzzle into it. Purrs into the touch that scratches under her chin before pushing a wisp of hair behind her ear and pulling away.

“I’m just looking out for you, pup.”

“I know, Ma,” Rumi whispers and gives a small smile. “Everything’s fine, I promise.”

“And you’ll let me know when it isn’t?”

“Promise,” the omega swears to her mother as she straightens up and fixes the newly scented collar onto her neck.

“Girls!” Rumi chirps as she pokes her head around the door’s entryway. “Hi Bobby!” She adds on when her fellow omega’s head pops into view.

“Rumi!” Bobby happily greets as he stands from the table. “Lovely to see you.”

“How are you, Bobby? It’s been a few weeks. Ma’s been keeping you busy, I see.”

Bobby shrugs with a smile, never one to complain. He gestures her over, hands clasping together as he turns toward the two alphas glued to their screens. Mira’s glasses have fallen to the tip of her nose, her eyes starting to cross as she stares at the video in front of her. One hand is sprawled over a notepad, pen pooling ink where it sits in her hand. The other occasionally taps the arrows on her keyboard, rewinding the feed by a few seconds each time. Across from her sits Zoey, surrounded by a circle of various canned drinks, as if she'd been summoned into it. Bulky headphones sit on her head, the music playing through them audible through the ear cushions.

Rumi doesn’t want to startle them, but their lunch hour is ticking and her stomach is gnawing at her in reminder. She supposes that’s the consequence of skipping breakfast to avoid having the conversation regarding the tabloid with her mother. The omega shifts impatiently. 

Bobby smiles to himself as Rumi’s scent sweetens slightly. He doubts that she realizes. He can barely tell when standing right next to her. Anyone not familiar with her wouldn’t have noticed the faint sweep of glazed sugar in the air. Not under Celine’s biting spearmint. But Bobbi, as both an omega and one who's known Rumi since she presented, can tell. The girl is impatiently waiting, unconsciously trying to call the attention of the two who had yet to acknowledge her presence.

He puts her out of her misery, clears his throat, and knocks on the table. The sound causes Mira to jump slightly, pen streaking across her notepad. Zoey jerks. One knee slammed into the table as her chair wheels back, knocking her headphones askew. The writer yelps, more out of surprise than pain, but it spurs Rumi to surge forward to catch the spinning chair.

“Bobby!” Zoey squeals as her chair jerks to a stop.

“In the zone I see,” Rumi tries to diffuse the tension, leaning onto the empty tablespace between the two. “Can I tempt you two to lunch? Mira didn’t mention making anything, so I can call something up from the kitchens?”

“Sorry, Rumi,” Zoey denies as she fixes her headphones.

“Can’t today. Working lunch,” Mira elaborates, barely, as she refocuses back onto her computer.

“Oh…”

Bobby feels his heart clench a little as Rumi’s face falls a little. Her brows furrow a little and her braid droops with her shoulders. He’s seen this face before, in photos that Celine has shown him from when Rumi was a whelp. The alpha claims its the Ryu Pout ™. It’s a devastating thing. The cumulation of idol genetics and idol training, emphasized by an omega’s pull. Bobby sees Zoey start to turn slightly before Mira grabs her arm in a vice grip, the warning stark in the air. He supposes he can’t blame them for avoiding eye contact. Not many could resist that face. 

Rumi droops a little more. Mumbles a goodbye, even as she lingers by the doorway like a stray dog begging for scraps. Bobby tries his best to keep his face neutral, professional. The personal lives of his newest recruits are not something he’s ethically allowed to dig into. 

Rumi slumps, cheeks slightly puffed in a pout as she sulks out the door and closes it.

That poor whelp though…

The next time he finds Rumi, she’s kicking at the floor and wringing her hands outside one of her mother’s office. The door is shut tight, a rarity. Celine usually keeps the door slightly ajar, to signal that the few who have unfettered access to her know that she’s available. The list of potential visitors is short. The few who actually use the privilege? Bobby only knows of one, Rumi. 

“What’s wrong, Rumi?”

The girl looks at him, lip anxiously caught between her teeth. Soft skin red from being gnawed on.

“I don’t know,” she whines, and the pungent tang of rot hits Bobby’s nose despite the fresh collar on her neck. “They got brought up here when I was getting the collar by one of the section heads. They locked me out…”

Rumi whines low under her breath. Shuffles toward the door as if the extra centimeter will break the soundproofing of Celine’s office. Bobby gives her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Besides a barking buzz of voices, no clear sound can be heard. Bobby can’t smell anything leaking from under the door. Not with Rumi distressed next to him.

As if sensing her whelp’s distress, the door swings open to reveal Celine. The alpha’s face is pinched sharp, eyes furrowed in irritation. She blinks it away when she registers the two standing outside the door, forcing her features to neutralize. 

“Bobby? Good, I don't need to call you.” Celine pointedly avoids looking at Rumi, not even twitching when Rumi lets out a soft peeling whine of frustration. “We need to discuss an incident with Mira and Zoey.”

“What happened?” Rumi pleads as Bobby is shuffled inside. She catches a glimpse of the two, scrunched up stiff in two chairs before her mother’s desk. “Ma?”

“You can’t be here, Rumi. Go take your lunch.”

“But Ma!”

“Now, Rumi!” Celine barks, stern and stoic. The alpha’s spearmint frosts the air, forcing Rumi to still her tongue and instead waffle on her feet. Celine’s eyes narrow at the hesitation, and a low grunt punctuates her command, “Rumi, that’s an order from your boss.”

The young woman’s jaw jitters. Air stuck in her throat as it tries both to whine and to click in dissatisfaction. Rumi complies, even as her jaw continues to shake and the smell of rot creeps out from under her collar, stepping into the waiting elevator.

…

The elevator dings as it stops its descent. Rumi perks at the sound, leaping off from the wall. The door hisses open, revealing the disheveled alpha pair. Mira is still fuming, the harsh spice assaulting the air and burning Rumi’s airways. The dancer’s face is red like she swallowed a spice too harsh. Burning with anger and seeping pheromones. Zoey’s also red-faced, but not from anger. Her pheromones? Just as strong and unrelenting- not in the all-consuming fire of Mira’s but an assault on the senses all the same. The salt emits from both her scent glands and the tear tracks down her cheeks- a hurricane condensed into droplets.

“Zoey! Mira!” Rumi jumps forward, stops right before them. “What happened? My Ma wouldn’t let me in. Where’s Bobby?”

“Not right now, Rumi,” Mira gruffs as she pulls Zoey closer. She tucks her head against her mate’s temple, a soft nuzzle in an attempt to calm Zoey. The other alpha hiccups in a breath, “Hey, it’s okay, Zo. Keep breathing, deep breaths.”

“How can I help? Do you need me-”

“We don't need anything, Rumi! Just give her a sec,” Mira interjects, face tight as she turns back to Zoey.

Rumi quiets, tightens her jaw to keep the distressed whine in place. She shuffles on her feet. Watches as Zoey slaps at her cheeks and wipes away the tears. The lyricist meets Rumi’s eyes before quickly looking away and shoving her face into Mira’s clavicle. 

“Can you give us a moment, Rumi?” Mira asks. Not unkindly, but painfully neutral. A voice that doesn’t match the inferno that is lingering in the air.

Rumi looks between them, eyes flickering to and fro between both faces. Her muscles tense at the idea. Planting her further in place, digging her heels in. She didn’t want to leave! Not with Zoey crying and Mira so obviously upset. The omega tilts her head, trying to catch Zoey’s face from where she’s hidden in Mira’s clavicle. 

“Zoey?” Rumi pleads.

“You don’t need to be here for this, promise,” Zoey mumbles.

You don’t need to be here…

Rumi flees the hallway.

Chapter Text

Celine eyes the text message and lets out a sigh. She pushes it off to the side, letting the screech of it sliding across her desk sound out. With an irritated groan she brushes her bangs away and out of her face, hooking that persistent gray hair over her ear.

“I knew those alphas would be trouble,” she sighs to herself.

What a mess… Although she supposes she should’ve seen it coming. She keeps her pup sheltered as best she can. Found it necessary, between the all seeing eyes of the press and the ever constant maw of power hungry executives. The resulting… inexperience in life that Rumi ended up with seemed a manageable cost. Rumi is a smart whelp. One that she’s proud of for both her heart and her mind. 

She thought Rumi would’ve known better than to be so obvious about her favortism…

A part of her wants to blame those two alpha whelps. Wants to froth at the mouth and insist that they should’ve known to be discreet. Blame them for the mess that they dragged her pup into. Celine knows better though, as bitter as her own alpha is about it. Those two are still young. Too young, to both the industry and their own dynamics, to have kept their instincts under tight lock. They lack the training to ignore the taunting of a stick poked into their cage.

Those two will have to learn. If they plan to stand with Rumi.

The soft flush of flowers tickles her palette. Must breeze over from the arrangement on the table due to the whirl of the ventilation. Because there’s no buttercups to wrap around her and nuzzle into the nape of her neck. She can hear it in the recesses of her memory, soft and charming and as bright as the sun.

Don’t pretend you were any better at their age.

Celine brushes the thought aside. Her PR training would’ve stayed her fangs, at least enough to not launch herself at another. Not that the offender didn’t deserve it, spouting such vilness about her whelp in her building. Alphas must learn to restrain their teeth in this industry. Otherwise be labled violatitle, a risk to the others. Connivers will pour salt into any open wound and is there anything as undoing to an alpha then their omega?

As the CEO of a leading agency, she cannot tolerate such infighting. As a fellow alpha (and the mother of the offended), Celine would’ve been happy sweeping the entire scenario under the rug. As the unfortunate amalgamation of both, when a leading executive pulls two alphas into your office ranting about how they lashed out at one of his trainees meant to debute in the month?

It’s best to keep things wrapped, contained. Behind closed doors and away from prying eyes. At least until things soothe over. For the mumbling around Rumi to quiet. For the scratching of jealous upstarts to turn their gaze away from Bobby’s newest whelps. She’d be more comfortable letting Rumi roam then. Let the trio stumble their way out into the blinding light once its only the light thats attempting to blister them.  

Her phone buzzes again. An update from Bobby.

Is Rumi okay? Haven’t seen her around in a bit.

The alpha lets out a staggering sigh and stands from her desk.

She heads to the garden, stepping into the small patioed area and peering between the billowing leaves of ferns. Rumi sits curled on the bench beneath the tree, braid trailing down over her shoulder. She’s shed her collar in this hidden away alcove. Tinging the air sour despite the blooming flowers.

Rumi doesn’t acknowledge her mother’s entrance, even as Celine sits beside her.

“No entourage today?”

Rumi shakes her head, drooping further into her own arms. Celine purses her mouth at the reaction. She nudges her pup’s temple.

“Rumi?”

“What happened? Did you say something to them?” Rumi demands, sharply turning her gaze to her mother. 

“The affairs between my employees can not just be disclosed, Rumi. You know that,” Celine states neutrally, eyeing her pup as Rumi stiffens at the words. So much like Mi-Yeong, this whelp. “What’s wrong?”

“They won’t talk to me. No one will talk to me!” the omega growls. The sourness thickens in the air, lays thick on the tongue. The words seem to take Rumi’s energy with it, crumpling the omega back into a slump. “What did I do?”

“Nothing,” Celine insists. “Its just some… friction. Some rumors. I’m taking care of it,” the alpha insists.

“I shouldn’t need you to take care of it!” Rumi yells, fingers digging into her arms with frustration. “They are my friends! Not some employee…” Her eyes water and she ignores how Celine tries to soothingly rub circles into the gland on her wrist. “I- I tried doing it right. I tried to be there and connect and, and they just are avoiding me. Did they get tired of me?” 

“No, Rumi,” Celine promises as she untangles her daughter’s fingers from her own arms. 

The alpha rubs at the indentations that had formed, draws circles around one of the markings there. Celine tucks Rumi’s head underneath her chin and starts up a slow rumble that resonates out of her chest. Lets the soothing buzz settle Rumi like she did when Rumi was still a pup.

“I miss them.”

Celine’s got to fix this.

…

Turns out that those two can lay low when given the right motivation. Celine doesn’t see hide nor hair of either of them for days. Granted, the alpha does not have much time to corner them. Not with a new group preparing to debut and keeping an eye on Rumi. The omega had been downtrodden, silent and lethargic all week. Curled inward as if the world was too bright. 

The mother won’t deny that it makes her anxious. She ensures that the rooftops remain locked. That Rumi’s schedule remains full. Idle hands are a dangerous thing, after all. 

She sees her daughter off in between meetings. Tucks her into the car with a reassuring nudge.

“It’ll be fine. She comes highly recommended, and if it doesn’t work there are plenty of options,” Celine reassures her through the car’s window. “And its perfectly normal to not mesh in the first appointment or with your first therapist.”

“It’s not like you’re sending me to my first press conference, Ma,” Rumi softly jokes but fidgets nervously with her hands all the same. “I think you’re more worried than me.”

“I’m always worried for you. I’m your mother. It’s my job.”

“Maybe you should be going then, not me,” Rumi snarks and gives a cheeky smile at the light glare she receives. She blinks and huffs when Celine reaches through the space to lightly pinch her nose as if she were a misbehaving whelp.

“Behave,” Celine chides and knocks on the passenger window. Takes a step back as the car jolts to life. “I’ll be there when you’re done. I made reservations.”

“Isn’t it common to cry during these things? What if I look like a mess?”

“Then we can order take out and Bobby gets the reservation. Be good,” Celine said as Rumi buckles her seatbelt. She watches her pup give a shaky nod before the window rolls up and obscures her view. “That’s my girl,” the alpha mumbles to herself and pulls out her phone to check the time.

She has one hour to get this over with.

With purposeful steps she makes her way to Bobby’s office. Those two should be in a progress meeting with him. Celine had wanted to avoid pulling personal matters into work hours, but they skittered away like fleas once work hours were over. So she’ll do what she must to talk to the duo.

Alpha to alpha.

“I’ll be taking these two,” Celine declares as she enters Bobby’s office. She watches the two of them jump up at her voice. Watches Bobby raise his eyebrows.

“I’m supposed to have another thirty minutes with them?” Bobby inquires as he glances between the two. “If there’s been any complaints, they’ve side stepped me.”

The again is left unsaid, but Celine mentally waves off the poking. She has not the time for Bobby’s protectiveness right now.

“This is not work related. Off the record.”

“Celine, I don’t know if this is a good idea given recent circumstances,” Bobby carefully treads and glances at the door behind her, searching for nosy eavesdroppers.

“Your concern is noted,” Celine dismisses and levels her look onto the two stiff women before her. “You two, now.”

It’s the pink one who speaks first. Her steps clipped and only a step behind Celine’s to avoid colliding into her. The CEO had lead them away from the general population, down that deadend maintenance hallway that she first ran down with them. The circumstances are less dire this time, but Celine can still taste the anxious biting of salt and the burning heat of gochujang. 

“We didn’t do anything.”

Celine holds in her eye roll at Mira’s stark declaration. The taller alpha is standing tall, instincts stretching her straight to make her look bigger, more intimidating. Her mate is less boisterous in her stance- shoulders hunched defensively to her ears but her legs planted firm. Young alphas… always ready for a fight.

“That’s part of the problem,” Celine states as she eyes the two. Looking for signs of movement. She brought them here in hopes that neutral ground would ease them, at least a little. It appears to have been wishful thinking. “You’ve been avoiding Rumi.”

“You told us to!” Mira seethes, face already reddening.

Celine forces her face to remain still. Young whelps…

The oldest alpha huffs out through her nose, “I said to be discreet. Not neglect her.”

“We’re not- We never meant,” Zoey starts and stutters as she trips over her own words. “We’d never hurt Rumi! Not on purpose.”

“You pushed her away.”

“Well, what are wesupposed to do?” Mira snaps. “You chewed us out for defending her from that bitch and then told us to stay low! You said that we weren’t helping the rumors!”

“You said we were letting Rumi interfere with our work,” Zoey adds with dark eyes. “And we totally noticed our workload is terrible right now! And that the superiors are breathing down our necks.”

“And you think I did that?” Celine asks with a huff when neither denies the question. “Have neither of you seen how a successful alpha omega relationship has to act in public?”

That makes the two pause and glance at each other, two questioning children stumped by a question in school. It blows the energy out of them like a flickering candle.

Mira shrugs, “My parents are bastards and both alphas.”

Zoey zips up, one hand raised to announce her answer, “Mine are divorced! Oh, and betas!”

“... Jesus, okay.”

Why these two Rumi… Celine was never meant to be a mentoring alpha. Her pack had been all omegas, ever since the beginning. She’s meant to be comforting packmates, guiding them with a steady presence. A glorified bodyguard who provided cuddles. Not a whelp wrangler knocking sense into alpha knotheads.

“Look,” Celine starts and wishes she brought Bobby with her. If only for emotional support. “We all know this industry is brutal. As both my heir and a celebrity daughter, in terms of this industry, Rumi is a high value omega. Don’t start, I hate the term too,” Celine quickly shuts down Zoey’s upcoming retort. “Point remains that everything she does is watched and everything reflects back onto our company. Did you think people haven’t noticed that she’s gotten close to you two? That the best way to get to you is through her. That going after you can corner her? I’m not letting Rumi get chewed and spat out because the two of you have yet to learn restraint. Slapping a girl across the face is not restraint.”

“I showed restraint, I kept Zoey out of it,” Mira defends.

“Zoey kicked her feet out from under her,” Celine refutes.

The pink haired alpha smirks, “Yeah, that’s keeping her out of it. Zo here has a black belt.”

“Since I was fifteen!" Zoey chirps with a smile. An all teeth thing. A dangerous thing. Celine will not admit she's impressed.

"Point is," Celine redirects, "They will always go after the omega because they think it's the easiest option. They'll use her dynamic against her for anything. Relationship? Omega's fault- they can't satisfy their partner or they seduced someone. They asked for the attention, unwanted or not. Complaints are whining. Successes are handouts. Two alphas slapping someone across the face?" The two in front of her look away with a guilty shuffle. "Hiding behind their dynamic." Celine sighs, crosses her arms across her chest. "It's... improved over the years. If slightly. Not enough. It's my own damn company and I can't keep Rumi safe from it. And you... know how she is."

Sensitive. Hyper aware. Soft and yearning in a whelp-like way. So easily cut at. Shining and brilliant, like sunlight through glass. So easy to grasp. 

So easy to shatter.

"In light of past circumstances, you get one pass. Fix. This," Celine growls. 

A demand, not a request. Spearmint spikes. Zoey twitches as the command zings down her back. Mira stiffens on instinct, wanting to snap back just out of pure defiance at this relatively unknown alpha's assertion of dominance. She doesn't, because this isn't just any alpha- it's Rumi's only remaining pack. Restraint. They both nod instead, let Celine growl one last time in dissatisfaction about this whole ordeal without fuss. 

Restraint. They can manage that.  

Chapter Text

It’s not Rumi’s turn to have Derpy. Jinu comes with him anyway. Drops the cat onto her with an unceremonious plop from where she’s curled up on the couch in the quietness of a Saturday afternoon. The cat kneads at her gasping stomach, twirling into place and settling himself there. Rumi coughs in air, trying to reclaim what got forcibly expelled from her chest. Despite the rasping of her soul escaping her trachea, Rumi brings a hand up to pet the cat behind the ears. Derpy purrs into it, pushing his cranium into the outstretched hand. He spins before plopping down on her chest, a motoring rumble spreading through her ribcage. 

“Pouting, I see,” Jinu notes as he leans against the back of the couch. He folds his arm, the excess hanging over the edge. His dark bangs shadow his face. 

“I’m not pouting,” Rumi grumbles back as she blinks against the ceiling lights blinding Jinu’s shiloutes. “What’s this?”

“I could feel you sulking through the phone. So I brought emotional support.”

Said emotional support purrs hard as Jinu stretches his fingers to graze through the dense fluff at the neck. That cat pushes his smushed face against Rumi’s nose, huffing the stench of fish into her nostrils. The omega scrunches her nose but does not recoil, opting instead to simply tilt her head so that the apple of her cheek brushes against the soft fur.

“I’m not sulking,” Rumi insists. Her eyes narrowed into a slight glare, gaze darkening when it slides off Jinu effortlessly. She sits up, elbows jostling underneath to push her weight up. Derpy meows in discontent, claws digging into her shirt in an attempt to stay put and scratching at the top layer of her skin. “Ack! Derpy!”

The cat tilts its head at her, oblivious to its carnage. He yowls in discontent as Jinu reaches down to yank him off her. Claws dig into the knit of Rumi’s shirt out of stubbornness. Fibers snag on the edges and pull taut as Jinu bats at the cat’s paws in an attempt to get him to unlatch. 

“I’m… not sulking,” Rumi reasserts as she unhooks the loops of thread from the cat’s curling paws. “I’m taking time to… to reflect.”

“Deflect, you mean,” Jinu huffs. “And it’s been a week! That’s not reflection, that’s sulking.” The beta lets out a victorious hum as he successfully unlatches Derpy from the omega’s shirt. “Ahah! Oh, come on!” 

Derpy yowls in discontent in Jinu’s hands. The cat twists in his grip, coiling around his hands like a fat eel. Jinu loses his grasp. A blur of blue that encircles his hands like an obnoxious fur cuff as the feline contorts its spine. Derpy lands onto the back of the couch, claws clambering to grip the fabric.

“Derpy, no no no! Not the couch. Ma will kill me.”

“You mean she’ll kill me!” Jinu hisses as he reaches once again. Derpy bats at his hand, escaping back to Rumi and reclaiming his spot atop Rumi’s abdomen. “And you are avoiding the question.”

“You didn’t ask one!”

“Don’t be a wiseass,” Jinu huffs as he glares at the two. Derpy, the traitor, curls into Rumi’s chest- uncaring of his master’s annoyance. Rumi, the pain in his ass, simply avoids eye contact. “Come on, I bet even that fancy therapist of yours told you to get on with it and talk with them.”

Rumi distracts herself with petting at Derpy’s round ears, savoring the soft fluff under her thumbs. Jinu tilts his head at her and sighs. His weight drops lightly onto the back of the sofa. He pokes at the soft flesh of her cheek and flashes her a small smile. 

“Aren’t you a Ryu? What are you doing, moping around?” Jinu chides softly and brushes a piece of hair out of her face. 

He brushes a knuckle across a growing patch of white pigmentation that has started to freckle from her hairline. Rumi flinches away from it, using one hand to resituate her stray baby hairs. Jinu sighs to himself, but doesn’t comment on that particular wound. 

The beta can’t say he’s too surprised. Rumi’s always been this way. As far back into their tenure as Jinu can dig, the omega has bottled everything away. Stuffed them into the closet like a whelp cleaning their room before their parent came by. She’s always been meticulous in appearing neat. He remembers her back during their trainee days. Not a single hair on her meter-long braid out of place as it swayed in time with the long limbs she had yet to grow into. Eyeliner sharp and makeup perfectly neat, not a wrinkle on her clothes despite hours twisting and bouncing to upbeat music. A mask made painstakingly by hand, lacquered in expectations. And Ryu Rumi could fit a lot behind that mask. Every fracture that the pressure splintered into her soul, every insecurity that ate her from the inside out, every dream that passed through her mind as she slept. It could never hide the crawling patterns. The sprawling patches peeked out from beyond her armor, rusting it frail. 

Once the illusion broke, Rumi never recovered easily. The armor caved, and everything was a knife to a tender organ.

“You went back on Friday, right?”

Rumi hums in acknowledgment. She doesn’t elaborate.

“Did you talk about them?”

A small nod, “It just seemed easier than… everything else.”

Friendship issues were at least a normal issue to have. Not like everything else that made her so wrong. And maybe that’s the point. Rumi is not normal; is incapable of it. Physically and mentally and every way else. After all, first meetings aren’t meant to be them picking up your suicide note to no one. It's not meant to be built on layering inklings of something being wrong. That’s what it had been, after all. An alpha’s sense of protection, especially over an omega. One proven justified. Rumi understands alphas; they wouldn’t just leave someone unprotected. Is that why they lingered? Is that why Rumi’s attempt to reciprocate got rejected?

Perhaps it's just because she had never been normal.

“And?”

Jinu’s voice cuts through her ears like the loud peeling of a bell.

Rumi sighs, a frustrated thing as she throws her head back, “That I should talk with them. That I should consider all the evidence. That-”

“You shouldn’t jump to assuming you did something?” Jinu adds on and chuckles slightly at the glare he’s given. “Don’t look at me like that. You are the one who locked us in an elevator because you were just so certain that the guys hated you because they were grumpy with you at six am.”

“We promised not to talk about that,” Rumi grumbles as she stuffs her face into Derpy’s fur. “And it’s not like they’ve tried to talk to me.”

“Really?” Jinu asks, voice pitched in genuine disbelief.

“Pup, you got visitors,” Celine’s voice cuts through the air. 

Rumi scrambles into a proper sitting position and ignores how Derpy plops down into her lap as a result. Jinu pulls his arms back to his sides as if he’s a teenager getting caught creeping into the window despite the fact that Celine is the one who let him in the door earlier. The alpha strides into the room, the two mentioned visitors behind her.

Jinu scrambles to stand straight and stumbles a step away from Rumi, who looks at him, obliviously confused. He eyes Mira and Zoey as they trail into the room. Zoey twiddles with a bouquet of flowers, hugging them to her chest like a plushie. Eyes bouncing around like a bumblebee trying to drunkenly land in a flower field. Mira stays a step behind, shoulders up to her ears like a snapping turtle waiting for some unfortunate creature to come too close. There’s a tenseness in their gait that only stiffens further when they see him beside Rumi. He sees the tall one’s jaw clench and that the smaller one narrows her gaze in on him like a hawk- tilting her head slightly with eyes wide.

“What are you doing?” Rumi hisses as he tries to jerk away, grabbing at his shirt from over the back of the couch with the hand not buried in Derpy’s fluff. 

Surviving, Rumi. He is surviving. Keeping his face unscarred and his trachea in his throat. He needed those after all! To make money. To breathe! He can not get them damaged because two territorial alphas decided for him that he’s a threat. They aren’t even dating anymore! The beta glances at the two, swallows the spit that has anxiously flooded his mouth, and tries not to breathe any more than necessary.

“Jinu,” Rumi pleads under her breath.

That gods forsaken Ryu Pout ™…

Jinu slumps against the back of the couch in defeat. He couldn’t even hold the cat…

“Rumi,” Zoey squeaks as they stumble behind Celine. The older alpha draws an invisible line between the two pairs, as neither of the two alphas seem brave enough to pass her to get to the omega. “Um… hi! It's… It's been a second!” The girl twiddles the flowers in her hands,  “You weren't in the courtyard yesterday. Or the day before that… or at all this week.”

Jinu glances at her and internally rolls his eyes when Rumi refuses to meet his eyes. He knew that the contact between the three had been nonexistent recently, ever since… whatever happened at work. He just should’ve realized that it was likely a two-way street. Especially once his texts from her stopped veering from pining to Rumi’s particular brand of moping.

“It’s been busy,” Rumi states as she pulls Derpy further into her lap. 

Silence wanes between them, and Jinu mentally palms at his face.

Rumi. Rumi. Rumi.

Celine eyes her daughter, not even needing to catch the subtle change of her pheromones in the air to tell that she’s lying. Loath as she is to admit it, she can sympathize with the beta whelp in this case. His anxiety is becoming palpable- poisoning the air slightly with the taste of iron, like blood on the teeth. She knows that this situation is not ideal. She knows the two are protective by the paperwork that had littered her desk. Knows that they see Jinu as a threat by the way Mira is grinding her molars to dust and Zoey is twitching with the urge to lunge forward. It's why the alpha had made an effort to set up space for this conversation to happen on Rumi’s own terms, rather than this cornering in her family home. But Rumi entered the car each day slumped shouldered and spent every dinner picking at a plate. The two were getting antsy, driving even Bobby up the wall, and each day just made her pup sadder… 

“You,” Celine looks at Jinu, readying to give the beta his chance to escape. 

“Jinu will stay.”

“Rumi, honey,” the mother tries to coax. Voice low and soft, similar to the croon she used to persuade her as a pup. “They asked to talk with you. Let’s keep him out of it.”

“It’s not the fifties, Ma,” Rumi snarks. The words are snipped with a snarl that causes the others in the room to pivot their gazes to her, unaccustomed to the teeth. Rumi’s eyes prick under the pressure- the hairs on her neck bristle. “You can’t just push Jinu out of the room because you’re an alpha.”

Celine, however, is unintimidated. Accustomed to when her whelp does not get her way. To how she bites when she feels cornered. The alpha huffs in faux offense, diffusing the tension with the puff of air. Rumi softens noticeably, slumping into the cat on her lap.

“F-fifties! How old do you think…” Celine yelps dramatically high. “You’re worse than your mother.” The woman chuffs and redirects her attention, a sharp burst of mint permeating the air.  “You two, remember what we talked about.” Those two whelps of her daughter’s flinch and straighten, eyes downcast and avoiding the older alpha. Celine eyes them for a moment before turning to her pup, voice soft. “Rumi?” The omega jumps, twisting to look at her mother. “Let the poor man leave before he smells up the house. I’ll be right in the kitchen if you need anything, alright, Pup?” Satisfied with her work, she waits for a moment for any objections before turning to leave.

“You got this, right?” Jinu whispers to his friend. He eyes the two alphas across from him, mindful of how they shift their weight between each foot in an attempt to dispel the pent-up energy. It does nothing to prevent the subtle taste of salt and spice.

“Jinu!” Rumi whines as she watches Jinu scamper to safety. The cautious crawl he slows to as he passes the two giving no satisfaction as her stomach churns in her belly. He’s just passed Mira when the dancer groans and stretches an arm out to catch his shirt.

“Hey so… thanks… for looking out for her.” 

“No… problem,” Jinu drawls out, eyeing them. Waiting for the rest. For the veiled threat to coat the praise. When Mira just lets go, he shuffles on his feet before fleeing.

Rumi takes a steadying breath and stands, gripping Derpy to her as a grounding weight. It brings her closer to eye level, but she keeps her gaze trained on Derpy. He meows at her and brushes the soft fur of his muzzle against her chin. She doesn’t want to stay sitting for this. Innately and instinctively trying to make herself look bigger than she feels. Temper herself into something stronger than she is. She keeps her back straight and her eyes off the ground. Even if off the ground meant staring directly at her cat’s drifting apart eyes so that the two blurred into the background behind him.

“We brought these for you?” Zoey blurts and shoves the bouquet out in front of her. She blinks for a second before the flowers droop a bit in her lowering grip. “Ah, wait, you’re holding Derpy… hrm, uh. We’ll just put them here for now?” The smaller alpha lets out a trilling note as she gently places them on the coffee table. 

Zoey twists her hands as she settles back next to Mira. Her teeth bite into her lip, and her shoulders slump when Rumi doesn’t respond. Mira nudges her with a shoulder, a reassurance and an encouragement. The dark-haired girl smacks her own cheeks to get the blood flowing. Emboldened the smaller alpha steels herself.

“Rumi, look at us? Please?”

The omega’s gaze flickers, involuntarily drawn to Zoey’s sweet cadence. A song she had not heard in too long. Even if too long had only been a matter of days. Just long enough that she can no longer count them on her fingers… a timeframe she’s easily gone without Jinu before.

Why did it feel so much longer with them?

“Please, Ru?”

How can Rumi ignore that? The omega meets eyes with all the petulance of a child. She meets both of their gazes with puffed cheeks. Derpy hides away her pout, his large form curling like a blue cinnamon roll as he turns to face the two alphas. He blinks at them- one eye lagging after the other. The pink of his tongue a contrasting blotch on his blue face from where it peeked out of his muzzle.

“So, we haven’t seen you around,” Mira starts as the two fumble at the imaginary border they’ve drawn. “Or heard from you.”

“Work’s been busy,” Rumi responds automatically. 

“Yeah, but normally you drop by,” Mira pushes back and tilts her head slightly. Her sharp gaze met Rumi’s head on. “We haven’t heard from you at all, and Bobby said you’ve been avoiding the area.”

“Has everything been okay?” Zoey adds on, brown eyes big and wide. “Have you been okay?”

Rumi bristles. It sparks down her back like static. Jolts at her brain and shocks it in place and lights on fire to burn through her. The heaviness slips off her shoulders, drowned out by the sudden wave of anger. Derpy spooks in her arms at the movement, slips away to the safety of the floor as lips pull back from gums. He puffs up, fur ballooning around him as he presses against Rumi’s tensed legs. His eyes focus just slightly as he turns to the cause of his mother’s tension, and his ears fall flat.

“Me?” the omega hisses and feels her teeth gnash together on the word. Tearing it as it entered the air, leaving the sound shredded and wheezing. 

Zoey jerks like she’s been bitten in the not-fun way. Eyes going wider as she stumbles a half step back, reflexively shifting her weight away from the sudden strong pulse of rot. Her heart staccatos in her chest. What’d she say? That’s what they are meant to ask, right? They messed up! That’s what Celine insisted. They’re here to acknowledge that. To apologize for it. To ensure that they she didn’t ruin anything. 

“Yeah…” Mira drawls out slowly. Face cautiously neutral as she steadies Zoey with a hand to the small of her back. The alpha forces her muscles not to twitch. Don’t act like a pup in front of the girl you fucked up with. “You’ve been acting weird all week. Apparently.”

Zoey jams an elbow into her ribcage. A deserved one, Mira realizes too late, but the word had already slid out of her mouth before she meant for it to. Rumi’s shoulders rise up to her ears. Her bare neck leaking rot and vinegar.

“I’ve been acting weird?” Rumi growls and takes a step forward. Derpy manuvering out from under her feet as she does, but remaining close to her ankles. He is still puffed up like a blue cloud and his dark ears depress into his skull. “You were the ones who ghosted me!”

“We didn’t… We never meant to,” Zoey insists. “It’s just that. People were saying things about you and us, and then there was the thing.”

“What thing?” Rumi snarls. “Why won’t you tell me anything? Why won’t you let me help?”

“Because we can take care of it. It was our fault,” Mira insists, and feels her stomach churn in her gut. “It’s not something you should have to deal with.” Let us protect you, she pleads. 

“I’m not broken,” Rumi snaps. “I’m not broken, and I’ve handled this industry way longer than you. So stop treating me like I am.”

“Rumi, of course, you’re not broken,” Zoey tries to placate. “We don’t think that.”

The omega huffs in disbelief, stepping forward to utilize the slight advantage she has of the room being hers. Her pheromones blanket the room, pushing against the two alphas like she was trying to shove them out of her space. They step back, letting her push aggressively at this boundary that's been drawn. Annoyingly placating, a passive surrender that their alphas try to make to her omega. Rumi bites against the taste of obviously placating pheromones.

“Look, we fucked up, okay?” Mira blurts. Trying to just get everything on the table. “Some bitchy idol was talking shit about you, and we reacted and got ripped to high hell for it. We didn’t want to make anything worse for you-”

“I’m not a pup,” Rumi interjects. “And I’m not some emotionally fragile omega you need to protect because of some stupid alpha pride.”

“That’s not- that’s not why we,” Zoey stutters. “It’s not an alpha thing, Rumi! It’s because we care.”

“We’re friends, Rumi,” Mira stresses and reaches out through the empty space. The dancer needed the contact. Needed the feel of Rumi’s skin against the pads of her fingers. To grasp something so that she could make sure that she could hold the pieces together. 

The tallest alpha’s fingers wrap gingerly around Rumi’s wrist. Gently pressing against the heightened pulse throbbing through the vein. The heat of it jerks Rumi, who gulps in a breath of air. It sputters out of her lips like a deflating balloon, bringing the tension in her shoulders with it until they droop back into their natural position. Zoey inches closer as the omega slumps, trying to meet Rumi’s eyes as she does. When she manages to catch her gaze, she finds tears have replaced the anger. The lyricist gently joins Mira’s hand on Rumi’s wrist. The other raises toward wet eyes but stops a centimeter away, hovering. 

“It didn’t feel like it,” Rumi breathes out shakily. Her chest jolts in a hiccup, and a restrained noise pitches with it. “Why didn’t you let me help? You were crying, and you told me to leave. What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything, baby, I promise,” Zoey insists and nudges her foreheads to Rumi’s. “I was just embarrassed and angry, and when I get like that, I ugly cry like a pup. It’s sooooo bad.” The alpha’s cheeks pink slightly, “I didn’t want you to see me all gross.”

“We weren’t trying to avoid you either… at first,” Mira tacks on. “Work piled up so bad for us, and we had to finish it, or else I think even Bobby couldn’t have kept us from getting fired. Then we slapped that bitch, and we got told to lay low or else people would think you were like, I don’t know, nepotisiming us. And then we still had all that work piled up.”

“Your Ma yelled at us for being knotheads…”

“So we tried to apologize, but then you weren’t anywhere.”

Rumi blinks at the two of them, as blank-faced as Derpy for a moment, before she shakes her head and the look clears from her face like an Etch-A-Sketch. Her eyelids flutter again, brain processing and grappling to find the topic she wanted to cling to first.

“You slapped someone?”

Mira’s face reddens, and she hastily pulls her hands back to stick them under her armpits. Arms crossed around her chest like shoelace strings.

“Bitch deserved it… No one should talk about anyone like that, but especially not you…”

“And I swear her dick supervisor somehow got our workload increased. I saw letters when I blinked. It didn’t matter how much I brought home, I swear!” Zoey adds on with an aggravated huff.

Rumi’s brows furrow, “Why were you both so behind?”

Both jerk at the question, staring off to the sides of the room like a pup caught in the cookie jar. 

Zoey rolls on the balls of her feet, “We may have been putting stuff off to go to those events with you.”

“Zoey!” Rumi pivots towards the other culprit. “And you too? I told you only to come if you weren’t busy.”

“Yeah, we totally lied about not being busy,” Zoey confesses.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Rumi scolds, one hand pinching the bridge of her nose. “Why did you do that?”

“Because we wanted to be with you…” The smaller of the two murmurs, eyes wide and pleading, and making Rumi soften on the spot. “Plus, there was no way we were going to let you go there with a bunch of guys we didn’t know. Guys you said you weren’t close to!”

“I had Jinu, I would’ve been fine.” Rumi notices them both glower at the name and furrows her brow. “What’s that for?”

“We weren’t leaving you with Jinu,” Mira huffs out like an angry wolf. 

“What’s wrong with Jinu?”

“He broke your heart for one!” Zoey hisses, cheeks puffed at the beta’s audacity. “Plus, he was totally trying to make moves on you again.”

Rumi’s face twists in confusion, mouth parted in a soft huh, and eyes furrowed. The omega glances between the two.

“I broke up with him. He didn’t break my heart. It genuinely just didn’t work. It was like trying to kiss my brother… and why does that even matter?”

Mira lets out all the air stored in her lungs and looks Zoey in the eye. “I know you called dibs on first kiss, but please, I can’t take this any longer.”

“Fiinnee,” Zoey pouts, “But I get free reins over the first date then.”

“Deal. Rumi, tell me no if you don’t want this.”

Mira’s arm lashes out to grip Rumi around the waist, fingers catching over the belt loops of her jeans and pulling them chest to chest. The alpha’s breath fans against her face, and Rumi will swear later on that that’s the only reason for the sudden heat beneath her cheeks. Mira dips her face closer, nose bumping Rumi’s own. She feels Zoey press up against Mira’s side, pushing the other alpha into Rumi.

“Can I kiss you?” Mira asks, the words tickling the omega’s cheek.

“Can we take you on a date?” Zoey tacks on, leaning on her tiptoes to push closer to Rumi’s ear.

The cells in Rumi’s brain scream as one of Mira's hands migrates from her belt loops to cup her side. Not drawing her closer, but ready to once given permission. Her heart rams against her ribs, desperately trying to deliver oxygen to her brain as it flops uselessly in her head. Jinu’s voice from weeks ago pops up in her head, unwelcome and annoying.

Look, I guess I get that you have like no experience with alphas. But they are totally into you.

“Oh my god, Jinu was right.”

The words slip out involuntarily. Rumi yelps at her own sentence. Buries her head into Mira’s clavicle when the sudden mention of her ex makes both alphas twitch.

“Let's not talk about that beta, please,” Mira rasps and nudges Rumi out from her hiding space. “Be a polite girl and answer my question? Can I kiss you?”

“Can I kiss you, too?” Zoey adds on, mouth almost grazing her ear. “Can we take you out somewhere after?”

“Can we keep you?” Mira purrs against her cheek, smirking slightly at the sudden surge of something sweet in the air. Like a pastry shop just opened next to her tongue.

Rumi nods, eyes screwing closed as she leans forward. Rumi has kissed people before. Brief presses on lips stolen between moments when no one is watching. Chaste things with Jinu because she wasn’t sure what they were supposed to be doing, preferring to check it off the list so that she could cuddle or nuzzle instead. Mira pressing against her mouth, insistent even if gentle, with Zoey peppering kisses to her cheek? 

Infinitely better.

Mira suctions on her bottom lip, pressing her top between the seam of Rumi’s mouth, before letting go. Rumi trails behind her mouth a little, eyes flickering before jerking open as Mira pulls on her belt loops to twist her toward Zoey. She blinks at the younger alpha, mouth slightly parted from letting out a surprised squeak. A noise she makes again when Zoey promptly grabs at the back of her neck to pull her through the slight space separating their mouths.

“Please avoid defiling my daughter in shared spaces.”

Rumi shoots away from the two like she’d had an ice cube thrown down her back. Derpy meows as he narrowly avoids getting stepped on, saved by Mira quickly pulling her back onto the flats of her feet.

“Ma!”

“I’m glad you worked this out,” Celine tells the two alphas, pointedly ignoring her whelp’s embarrassed whines. “Remember what we talked about. Rumi, doors open.”

“Ma!” Rumi hisses, cheeks flaming, “I’m not a teenager.”

“If I’m home, keep the doors open,” the alpha repeats. “And if you two take her anywhere, I want all of you in a house, mine or yours, by 2 am. Do not drive drunk anywhere. Rumi has a driver if needed.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Zoey chirps over her shoulder with a little salute as if she had just had her tongue probing at Celine’s daughter’s mouth moments before. “We’ll all be safe!”

Rumi curls into Zoey’s shoulder to hide from it all. She forces the chatter out of her ears, focusing instead on the pressure of Derpy winding around her ankles and the warmth of salt and gouchugang in her nose.