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If You Think the Coffee Sucks, Wait Until You Meet the Owner The plot for this fic is inspired by SKZ Code Episode 06: 여러분 모두 용의자입니다 (마피아 편) - You Are All Suspects (Mafia Edition) and Episode 07: 마피아는 너야! 나는 아니야! (마피아 편) - The mafia is you! I am not! (Mafia Edition) There was a pregnant omega having a breakdown in the back corner of the coffee shop Bang Chan managed. “It’s a quiet breakdown,” Jisung -- who’d been the one to alert Chan to the issue -- told him over the gurgle of the espresso machine, “But it’s definitely a breakdown. I know what a breakdown smells like.” He picked up the two filled mugs and carried them to the opposing corner before Chan could ask either “what am I supposed to do about that?” or “didn’t we have a conversation about invasive sniffing?” Chan didn’t actually need the answers. He knew what Jisung expected him to do and the sniffing question was rhetorical anyway. After checking to make sure Jisung and the part-timer, Cho Hajoon, could handle the current influx of customers, Chan fixed up a mug of warm milk and headed to the indicated back corner. It was an understandably popular spot for breakdowns. The big armchair and tiny coffee table were wedged into the corner in such a way that the piano blocked them from the rest of the shop. Most customers didn’t realize it was there. Technically not the best layout, but the baby grand couldn’t fit anywhere else and the shop’s owner refused to run his business without it. The source of Jisung’s concern was a young man with black hair falling into his face and a large gray hoodie that swallowed him up. He was hunched all the way over, staring fixedly at the mobile phone braced on his knees. Chan couldn’t pick up any scents indicating either his emotional state or physical condition. The untouched cup of tea sitting on the low table suggested he’d come up to the counter at some point, so that may have been when Jisung got a whiff of him. Or maybe Jisung smelled it from the whole other side of the shop. Chan had yet to suss out exactly how sensitive his omega’s nose was. “Excuse me,” Chan asked gently. The young man jerked his head up. He was unexpectedly pretty, with slim eyes over high, angular cheekbones, a generous mouth, and a wide, strong jaw. He looked even younger than Chan expected, probably in the same age range as Han. The motion caused the folds of his hoodie to fall away from his neck and release a burst of scent. And there it was. The distinctive sweetness of a bred omega mixed with the acrid tinge of distress. Generally speaking, alphas didn’t get too worked up over pregnant omegas that weren’t theirs. The proof of fertility was attractive in its own primal way, but, well -- the bountiful fields were already bearing someone else’s fruit, you know? Sniffing around was just asking for a fight. Chan wasn’t the sort of alpha who got into fights for the hell of it. But the boy didn’t smell of an alpha or beta claim. He didn’t smell of anyone else at all, actually, none of the expected mishmash of alpha-beta-omega that came with being integrated in a proper pack. Aside from the omega’s own scent, Chan could only pick up a faint hint of baking soda and vinegar, suggesting he’d gone out of his way to neutralize any other scents from his clothes and skin. Chan was not prepared for his immediate, visceral response to this combination. Some of it was sexual -- the omega was lovely and fertile and apparently very available -- but his dominant feeling was one of protectiveness. A strong need to take care of the young man and make sure he was safe and comfortable and happy. The last time he’d felt this protective over someone was when Han Jisung had a panic attack on their third date. The omega stared at him, his expression wary and unwelcoming. Chan felt his ears go hot and cleared his throat. Unfortunately, “protectiveness” was not an emotion that translated easily into scent the way lust did. “I’m sorry to bother you,” Chan said, making his voice quiet and soft, “But I heard you were alone over here and I wanted to see if everything was all right.” At Chan’s “all right”, the omega’s face started to crumple before he managed to school it into coldness. He looked back down at his mobile. “I’m fine,” he half mumbled. Very convincing. “At least enjoy some hot milk. On the house.” Chan squatted down and set the mug on the little coffee table. He could feel the young man’s tension easing now that Chan wasn’t standing over him. He stayed in the squat and went on, quieter than before. “I’m Bang Chan, the manager here. I’m not trying to pry into your business. I just wanted to let you know that you can talk to me or my staff if you need help with anything. Anything at all. Okay?” The omega ducked his head to hide more in his hair and breathed out a soft “Okay.” Chan waited a moment to give him a chance to think over the offer. When the omega remained silent, Chan nodded. He hated just walking away, but he couldn’t force anyone to accept his help. He could only hope that if gave the boy some space and time, he would come to them later. Chan had barely started to rise when he picked up the salty smell of tears. It was an effort not to launch forward and wrap the poor kid up in his arms. “Hey, hey, it’s going to be okay,” he said, reaching out to rest his hand on the boy’s knee. The omega exhaled a short, wet laugh. “It’s not. I don’t even know where I’m going to stay tonight. I’m out of hotel money.” He pressed the backs of his hands to his eyes and let out a tight sounding sob. Chan’s heart ached. “We’ll figure it out, we will,” he promised recklessly, “What’s your name?” A sniff. “Yang Jeongin.” “Okay, Jeongin. You don’t have any family or friends you can stay with?” The boy dropped his hands to give him a flat lipped look. Chan felt vaguely scolded. “In Busan,” Jeongin said, “And they don’t know about -- “ He leaned back and traced the shape of a curve over his belly. “Do you want them to know?” Chan asked. A hesitation. “I don’t… I don’t know if I’d be allowed home if they did.” Chan squeezed the omega’s knee in sympathy and swallowed his own disappointment. Sending the boy home to his birth pack would be both the fastest and most socially acceptable way out of this. He wasn’t going to pressure the boy into trying to contact them, though. Sure, Chan couldn’t imagine his own parents turning out one of their omega children, especially not a pregnant and otherwise homeless one, but he knew not every pack was decent. He shifted his weight and sat right down on the carpet, uncaring of the state of his work slacks. This was going to take a minute. He just hoped Jisung and the part-timer would continue to keep things running smoothly in the meanwhile. “All right, we won’t risk it then. I’m sorry I have to ask this question, but are either of the sires an option?” Jeongin shook his head before Chan finished speaking. “Fuck no.” He ruffled his hair with an agitated hand. “They don’t know about the baby, either.” The look he shot Chan was somehow both chagrined and defiant, almost daring him to judge. “Or about each other.” Ah. Okay then. This was getting better and better. “You don’t think they would take the news well?” Chan asked, making an effort to sound as non-judgemental as possible. Another hesitation, like the boy was picking out the right words to explain himself or to avoid revealing too much. “The beta… might. He’d be --” Jeongin rolled his eyes. “-- really dramatic about it, but he’d take responsibility. It’s just.” A deep breath. “He’s being courted by a pack and he’s just started a job that’s really conservative. I was a one-night stand. I don't want to ruin his life.” Unfortunately, Jeongin had a reason to think that would happen. Just because both an alpha and a beta were required to sire a child didn’t mean they were treated the same for succeeding at it. Alphas were the pack leaders; alphas decided what family name the pack children took; alphas had final say in which betas helped impregnate their omegas. Betas were the support, the backup; expected to take charge when necessary, but meant to submit to an alpha’s leadership every other time. Betas and omegas belonged to their alphas, first and foremost. Not to each other. Of course, not all of modern society was that stringent and not every pack followed those rules -- Chan’s own birth pack didn’t -- but Korea was one of the more traditional countries. Jeongin's beta could face serious judgment for knocking up an omega without an alpha’s say-so. He could lose his job and turn off whatever pack was courting him, unless the leader was one of the liberal sorts who was okay with letting another alpha’s offspring into their pack. If Chan was in that position and genuinely cared for the beta, he wouldn’t have hesitated to welcome all three. Particularly not if Jeongin was the omega in question. An idea to burst to life in the back of his mind. He ruthlessly flattened it. “I get that, but --” “He worked so hard,” Jeongin burst out in a sudden rush, “It’s his dream job. He doesn’t deserve this. I can’t-can’t ask him to pick.” His face crumpled again, tears brimming. “I just don’t -- don’t understand how it happened. It’d been weeks since I was last with Seu-- my alpha. Weeks. It should’ve been safe.” Chan hissed out a sympathetic breath. Popular convention held that an omega only needed to wait two weeks between fucking partners of different dynamics to avoid pregnancy, but that timeline was misleading at best and a straight up lie at worst. If Jeongin had been in or near heat when he'd last slept with his alpha or if they’d been fucking regularly, it’d take a lot longer than a few weeks for all the stored sperm to clear out of his reproductive system. It also sounded like the beta was way more than a one-night stand. Jeongin had known him already and cared enough to want to protect him from the consequences of their mutual actions. The actions of all three of them, really, since the alpha hadn’t used protection either. Chan didn’t have a good impression of that alpha given that Jeongin was unwilling to let him know about the beta and the baby. It wasn't a good sign that Jeongin wasn't volunteering information about him like he did with the beta. Chan rubbed the knee under his hand with his thumb and settled for saying, “It can be hard to gauge for some omegas, but that’s not worth worrying about right now. The most important thing is figuring out what we’re going to do next, okay?” Jeongin snorted wetly. “You mean what I’m going to do next.” He fiddled with his mobile, clicking the power button on and off again. “Sleep on a bench in the park at this rate.” “Hey no, that’s not happening.” Not on Chan’s watch. “I know I’m a stranger and you have no reason to trust me.” He made a cross-out with both hands, “Like, none. But at least I can get you money for a hotel tonight and then, if you’re willing, I can call around my friends and find out some other options.” Jeongin pursed his lips. “You have no reason to trust me, either. I could be running a scam to get money.” “You’re hiding in the back corner of a shitty coffee shop with no pack claims while actually pregnant. That’s real dedication to the bit.” “I’m a very dedicated person. Aren’t you the manager here? You shouldn’t insult your workplace.” “Ah, you see, it’s because I’m the manager here that I know it’s shitty.” Their eyes met and they both snickered, breaking the serious mood. Jeongin’s laugh was a gasping and uninhibited sound, even with the edge of tears on it, and Chan’s heart all but exploded. That same idea from earlier pushed back into his thoughts and he squashed it again. No, he would not ask Jeongin to come home with him and Jisung. Yes, they could put him up for longer and cheaper than a hotel room and yes, it would mean Jeongin wouldn’t be stuck all alone. But they were strangers to each other. He didn’t want to risk scaring Jeongin off by pushing too far. “I have to go check on my employees, but give me a couple hours and I’ll be able to get you some money,” he said after they’d quieted down. “Are you good waiting here until then?” Jeongin nodded and Chan could almost feel the hopelessness settle in on him again. “Have you eaten recently? I’ll send my omega over with food in a bit,” Chan said quickly. Leaving him alone for too long -- or at all -- felt like a bad idea. “Just hold tight. I promise it won’t be long” Jeongin heaved a sigh as if Chan was the most exhausting person he’d ever encountered. “I’ll be fine, Bang Chan-ssi. Go back to your shitty job.” Chan grinned, relieved by the show of levity, and pushed himself up off the floor. It turned out his timing was perfect, because as he rounded the piano, he spotted a panicked part-timer alone at the register and Lee Minho standing at the end of a six person line. Lee Minho was the new owner of the building the coffee shop was housed in. He’d showed up a couple months ago to introduce himself to all of the tenants, looking like a magazine model’s idea of a businessman with his perfectly tailored suit, hair styled into a soft wave, and expertly applied make-up. He’d greeted every employee with a polite and almost shy manner that contrasted charmingly with his strong alpha scent. Chan had been pleased and not a little flustered by the show of courtesy. Working this kind of job could be an endless cycle of fielding the most unnecessary and rude behaviors. It was nice to be treated like a person worthy of basic decency. The previous owners had used a management company to liaison with the tenants and handle maintenance requests, so Chan had never once met or spoken with them directly. It seemed Lee Minho-ssi intended to take a more hands-on approach. A week later, Chan arrived for his shift to find Han Jisung in full rant mode about the lazy, disreputable alpha passed out on the coffee shop’s one couch and would hyung please get him to move?! It was uncharacteristic of Jisung, who was usually the one convincing Chan to let people sleep in the armchairs all day. Chan didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t to step into the front of the house and find Lee Minho sprawled across the entire loveseat. Gone was the suit; in its place were fraying track pants, thick fuzzy socks, and a zip-up hoodie. His sleep-puffed features showed not a trace of make-up and his product-free hair was a fluffy mess. A cushion was tucked around his neck to facilitate maximum lounging. It was terribly cute in an entirely different way from the runway-perfect businessman of last time. Chan about-faced and ran to the back to demand why Jisung hadn’t told him the “disreputable alpha” was Lee Minho, the building owner. Jisung went ghost pale. He hadn’t recognized the man and hadn’t been the most respectful to him. After some mutually panicked back and forth, Chan took a deep breath and went out to confront him. Lee Minho roused instantly at his quiet “Excuse me, sir”, suggesting he was either a light sleeper or faking it. He’d smiled brilliantly at Chan and responded to him with as much politeness as before, except this time there was a very distinct edge of mischief to his manner. Lee Minho shamelessly revealed that despite owning the building, he was completely, 100% unemployed. He’d moved into the loft up on the third floor and since there was a lovely little coffee shop with such good coffee and such cute staff right downstairs, why shouldn’t he come here instead of being stuck in his boring apartment all day? “Of course, we’re happy to have you, Lee Minho-ssi,” Chan had said, “However, the couch is meant for all customers to share.” “Oh is it? Hm, I see.” Minho put a thoughtful hand under his chin. “But since I own this whole building, Bang Chan-ssi, doesn’t that mean I own this couch too?” He blinked wide, too-innocent eyes. Ah good, the guy was a comedian. “Hmmm, not according to renters' laws, Lee Minho-ssi.” Lee Minho had giggled then, pleased with himself, and assured Chan that he would make space whenever the shop was busy so he wouldn’t drive away their customers. He needed them to be able to afford rent, after all. Chan realized this was the best he was going to get without creating more of a situation than he was prepared to deal with. In the following weeks, Lee Minho came down to lounge around the shop nearly every day. True to his word, he only took over the couch during the slow times and could otherwise be found tucked into an armchair or on one of the stools. Sometimes he came in the mornings, sometimes in the late afternoons. Sometimes he skipped a weekend. He never stayed less than three hours, but was gone before six had passed. Once he left, he didn’t come back until the next day. He paid for all his drinks and pastries, even though he could have easily bullied his way into getting them for free. He was always dressed like he’d just rolled out of bed no matter the time of day. In many ways, Lee Minho was the ideal kind of regular customer. Chan would’ve been perfectly happy with ten more just like him. The actual problem wasn’t Minho. It was Jisung. He never got over the embarrassment of forgetting Minho’s face and had a hard time talking to or even acknowledging the alpha. Some days it was bad enough that he would straight-up abandon a full line to avoid interacting with Minho, which seemed to be the case right now. Chan hustled the rest of the way and took over the second register to help the pathetically relieved Hajoon. After several frantic minutes of taking orders and prepping drinks, Lee Minho reached the counter. “The usual?” Chan asked, already keying in an iced Americano. “En, and a butter croissant,” Minho said. He had a pillow tucked under his arm and a blanket draped over one shoulder. Planning to settle in for the long haul it seemed. “No Han-ssi today?” The teasing lilt to his voice suggested he’d seen the omega’s sudden flight into hiding. Not for the first time, Chan wondered if there was something more to Jisung’s avoidance than just embarrassment. He trusted Jisung to tell him if anyone was creepy or rude to him, but maybe there was some kind of vibe Lee Minho gave off that only an omega could pick up on. Chan hoped not. He kind of liked the oddball alpha. “He’s around,” Chan said vaguely and handed over the buzzer, “Your order will be ready in a few minutes.” Lee Minho saluted him with the buzzer and shuffled off in his obnoxiously large bunny slippers. Since there was a break in customers after Minho, Chan took the chance to duck into the back, ignoring Hajoon’s whimper of protest. Jisung was among the stock shelves, rearranging boxes of stir sticks and artificial sugars with quick, jittery motions. “Sungie,” he called. Jisung jumped and spun to him. “Hyung, I’m sorry, I know, I know I shouldn’t have left, I just needed --” “Ah, ah.” Chan caught the waving hands and pulled Jisung close enough to kiss his forehead. “It’s okay. I told you at the beginning, this is a shit job and I’m not going to get mad at you over it.” Worried and frustrated, maybe, but never angry. Jisung exhaled and nodded, his whole body sagging. Chan pulled back to see him better. His cheeks rounded with a smile under the scrutiny and Chan was struck again with amazement that this was his omega. A year together and the knowledge still felt fresh and shocking every time. “His name is Yang Jeongin and he needs a place to stay tonight,” Chan said. Jisung’s entire face scrunched up in confusion. “Who the what?” “The omega. The pregnant one,” he added when the first detail didn’t spark any recognition. “Oh, him!” Jisung cried, “What happened to him?” Chan quickly outlined what he knew of the situation. “Fuck, no wonder he smelled so upset,” Jisung said, “Do you reckon he’s running from his alpha?” That would be the mostly likely explanation, but Bang Chan said, “I don’t know, I don’t want to speculate until he tells us more. In the meanwhile, I’m going to get him money for a hotel and you,” He put a hand on each of Jisung’s shoulders, “are going to bring Yang Jeongin a couple of the sandwiches and try to keep an eye on him. I can’t shake the feeling he’s going to bail if he’s alone too long.” “Can’t I put him in the breakroom? It’ll be more comfortable and we can keep tabs on him.” Jisung led the way back into the front and Cho Hajoon’s puppy-dog eyes. Chan gasped at his lover’s brilliance. “Good idea. Give him the option.” Jisung threw him a thumbs up and went to raid the fridge with the pre-packed sandwiches and juice drinks. Chan resolved to leave the situation in his capable hands and focused on getting all the pending orders cleared out. An indeterminate amount of time and a new rush of customers passed before Jisung returned, towing a very shy looking Jeongin after him. Chan was too busy resolving a crisis of spilled drinks to do more than trade nods on their way by. Cho Hajoon looked baffled before visibly shrugging his shoulders and grabbing another order ticket off the printer. It took a lot longer than two hours for everything to wind down again. Chan did a round of the front with a broom and a rag to tidy any messes. Lee Minho was in an animated conversation with one of the other regulars, an older alpha lady who asked for so many espresso shots in her lattes it made Chan’s chest hurt by proxy. Neither acknowledged him except to pick up their feet for his broom. Once everything was to his satisfaction, Chan returned to the registers. “Where’s Jisungie?” he asked Hajoon. “Getting milk out of the big fridge,” Hajoon said. He paused in the middle of stacking the clean mugs and asked, “We’re not gonna get in trouble for letting that kid in the back, are we? You know how Owner Chen gets.” “I’ll deal with Owner Chen,” Chan said, “That’s my job.” There was a snowball's chance in hell of Owner Chen stopping by his own coffee shop on a Wednesday -- or any day other than that one Saturday a month -- so what he didn’t know wasn’t going to piss him off. He could learn about Jeongin if he bothered to review the security footage, which wasn’t going to happen either. Jisung returned a short while later with an armload of milk cartoons. Chan helped him stash them in the mini-fridge under the counter. “I gotta run down to the corner store, I’ll be right back,” Chan said and started to leave. He could use the ATM there to take enough cash for Jeongin. Jisung grabbed his arm. “Hyung, wait. I need to tell you something,” He waved at Hajoon. “We’ll be right back.” “Hey, come on,” Hajoon complained as they abandoned him to the sizable pack that just entered. In the back room, Jisung said, “I told Jeongin to come home with us.” “You told -- Han Jisung.” “A hotel, hyung?” Jisung demanded, “By himself? When he’s that upset and pregnant and packless?” “Sungie.” “Did I mention pregnant?!” They were both keeping it down to avoid being overheard by the customers or Jeongin in the break room down the hall, but Han Jisung could pack a lot of volume into a whisper. “I didn’t want to scare him off! What would you do if you were homeless and some strange alpha asked you to come home with them?” “Oh I would be out of there so fast. I’d jump out a window if I had to. But hyung, listen.” Jisung’s voice turned pleading. “Jeongin is hiding the pregnancy from literally everyone in his life and he still came in here smelling like a gynecologist's waiting room. He wanted someone to do something about it. He needs company, hyung. If we leave him alone, he’s gonna wander off and get picked up by somebody who’s not as trustworthy as us.” Chan took in a breath and let it out. He had nothing to argue with. It wasn’t like his gut hadn’t been nagging at him to keep the boy in his eyesight all afternoon. “Okay,” he said, “You made the right call.” Jisung beamed. “I always do.” Chan gave him a look. “Uh-huh. You did ask him if he wanted to stay with us instead of bullying him into it, right?” “Pfft, who do you think I am?” “I think you’re someone who says shit like ‘I won’t take no for an answer’.” Jisung made a show of spluttering indignantly because they both knew Chan was right. The door cracked open to let Hajoon stick his head in. “I know you two are having some sort of crisis today, but could you please not do this to me?” Chan and Jisung locked eyes for a moment, then parted ways; Jisung to deal with customers and Chan to check on Jeongin. The omega was dead asleep on the ratty break room couch. The gaudy orange blanket that Jisung liked to take naps in was wrapped around him from nose to toe, leaving only his hair and closed eyes visible. His soft snoring was just audible from the doorway. Chan was struck frozen at the sight. By all accounts, Jeongin should be too stressed out to relax, let alone sleep. He was in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by strangers, and facing down a major life change with no pack or loved ones to turn to for comfort. Anyone would be on edge in that situation. Add all the pregnancy hormones and instincts on top of that and he probably hadn’t had a decent night sleep in ages. Yet, there he was; passed out on the couch all the employees took their breaks on. Using the blanket Bang Chan covered in scent marks so Jisung could rest comfortably while away from home. Was it Chan’s scent that made him feel this safe? The possibility hit Chan like a punch to the chest. He closed his eyes against it. He wanted to go over there, roll Jeongin up into a little ball, and tuck him in his pocket where he could be safe and secure forever. God, he was stupid. If they’d sent Jeongin off for the night, Chan would’ve lost his mind fretting over him. Bringing him home really was the best option. Once again, Chan wished Owner Chen would stop jerking him around and finally pony-up that raise he kept making vague promises about. At least then they could upgrade to a bigger place, have more room for actual pack mates, and maybe… Maybe what? What dumb ideas was he getting about a situation he barely knew anything about? He was going to break his own heart fantasizing on ‘what ifs’. Leaving Jeongin undisturbed, Chan went into the adjacent office to clock out and spend what was supposed to be his lunch break reviewing stock orders and revising the schedule. The next three hours alternately crawled and zoomed by. The old lady with the espresso addiction left and was replaced by the young deaf man and his underclassman who used the coffee shop for tutoring sessions. The residents of the care home up the street stopped by for their bi-weekly iced Americanos and hot chocolates, excited to chatter about their evening plans. The last of the after-work rush thinned down to a handful of people lingering over their coffees and Lee Minho laid his rightful claim to the loveseat. At one point, a mated trio spent fifteen minutes having an increasingly loud argument before storming out in different directions and at another, a man went rushing to the restroom with a green looking five-year-old and came out a minute later full of apologies. Finally, finally, closing time hit. Hajoon left once the tills were cashed out, and then Chan and Jisung threw themselves into the closing chores. An hour or so later, they roused Jeongin out of his nap, gathered up his bags, and walked the three blocks home. Jisung was energetic and chatty the whole way, pushed into a hyper state by a combo of post-work exhaustion and awkwardness around a new person. He swung lightly from topic to topic, sliding easily into his on-camera persona, and when Jeongin started to look overwhelmed by it, Chan reached over to tuck Jisung his arm, calming him down a little. Their apartment was in an older, but well-maintained building. It consisted of a main room with a kitchenette, a bedroom they’d converted into a studio for Jisung’s livestreams and performance videos, and a bathroom. The only furniture in the main room was a queen sized bed, a dining table with two chairs, and a TV stand with a flat screen TV. Half the room was neat and tidy and the other half looked like a clothing store had vomited on it. “Wait, shit,” Jisung said, dropping Jeongin’s duffel bag next to the entry closet, “Let me --” He ran around, gathering up armloads of clothes and shoes and hauling them to the walk-in closet attached to the bathroom. Jeongin stared at the bed with a blank look. Chan couldn’t tell if he was regretting his choices or was too overwhelmed to process anything. “We’ve got a futon in the studio you can use,” Chan said. When Jeongin didn’t look enthused or reassured by this, Chan remembered Jisung’s words about him needing company. “Unless you want to share with us out here. Or just with Jisung,” he added quickly. It was one thing for Jeongin to find Chan’s scent comforting and another for him to be okay with sharing a bed. With Jisung, it would be less fraught, since they were both omegas and Jeongin was bound to feel less threatened by him in general. It took a moment for Jeongin to answer. “I wouldn’t kick you out of your own bed,” he said. “No, no, it’s okay,” Chan said. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Actually, I stay in the studio whenever I get insomnia so Sungie can sleep. It won’t bother me.” That made Jeongin pout for some reason, but he finally decided to sleep in the studio. Chan made up a bed on the futon while Jeongin washed and changed in the bathroom. The futon usually sat folded in the corner, where it doubled as chair if Chan wanted to hang in the room while Jisung was streaming or filming. Unfolded, it fit perfectly in the space between the desk setup and the backdrop. Jisung brought in a couple of his special nesting blankets and pillows to help finish it off. “You sure?” Chan asked before taking them. “Yah, I’m the one offering,” Jisung said. He squatted next to Chan to oversee the final arrangement of bedding. “We’re still meeting up with Changbin-hyung next week, right?” Chan blinked at the unexpected subject. “That’s the plan, yeah.” Jisung nodded twice, rubbed the side of his nose with a crooked finger, and abruptly headed back to the main room. “Hey, what?” Chan called after him. “What nothing,” Jisung yelled over his shoulder. What was that about, Chan wanted to demand, but Jeongin stepped out of the bathroom then, cheeks flushed from washing and eyes swollen and red-lined, completely distracting him. Chan’s heart squeezed. Seriously, this poor kid. Soon enough, Jeongin was tucked away in his bed and Chan and Jisung were curled up together in theirs. “Think you’re gonna sleep at all?” Jisung muttered into Chan’s chest. He was in the position he usually favored when stressed or anxious; tucked up against Chan’s side with his head pillowed on his shoulder. Chan sighed and ran his free hand through Jisung’s hair. “I’ll try,” he said. Jisung hummed softly, non-judgemental, and leaned up to kiss him. They traded soft kisses back and forth until Chan could feel him starting to slow down and drift off. He nudged Jisung back into his spot and moments later, the omega was asleep, dropping into unconsciousness with the ease of a stone dropping into a pond. Chan wiggled in place to get comfortably situated and closed his eyes, willing himself to relax. As if they’d been waiting for just this opportunity, all his questions and doubts and uncertainties of the day reached up to smother him. |
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