If You Think the Coffee Sucks, Wait Until You Meet the Owner
Chapter 2: The care and feeding of

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There was someone moving about Jisung’s home.

It’s Chan, his brain informed him and he slid right back into the dream he’d been having. He was in some kind of massive tree house and he was going up and down ladders and across branches, trying to complete a mission before his shift ended.

The clack of one of the cabinets closing too hard pulled him up again. He whined into the blanket pulled over his face. Normally, he could sleep straight through Bang Chan’s assortment of “getting ready” noises, so his alpha must really be bashing things around right now. He clumsily batted the blanket aside to complain about the disruption.

A scent hit his nose. A person scent. A not-Bang Chan person.

His whole body came alert, a tingling rush spreading up his back and down along his arms. There was a stranger in his home, a stranger banging around in his kitchenette, a stranger who was, any minute now, going realize he was there and awake and would — would —

Hold on.

The panic ebbed in favor of confusion over what he was smelling. Why had a pregnant omega broken into his home? That wasn’t typical, right? Okay, maybe he shouldn’t judge, literally anyone could be driven to a life of crime, but —

Finally, the rest of his brain woke up and the events of yesterday loaded. That’s right. Yang Jeongin, the boy with nowhere to stay and two baby-daddies he was running away from, had come home with them last night. That had to be him shuffling around through the cabinets, because they’d told him he had free reign to eat whatever he wanted.

Thank fuck Jisung's fear reaction was freezing instead of screaming or something. He’d have given poor Jeongin a heart attack.

He heard the microwave pop open and something clatter onto the glass plate inside. Beep, beep, beep and then the low hum of the microwave running. He listened to it for a moment longer before deciding he’d wallowed in his embarrassment long enough. Bang Chan had to be gone already — his scent was all over the apartment, of course, but it was starting to go stale — which meant Jisung was the designated Big Brother of the hour. He had responsibilities.

He unwound himself from the blanket cocoon and sat up. The apartment was dim and gloomy, the black-out curtains still drawn tight over the windows. The golden glow of the microwave and the LED night-light plugged into the kitchen outlet splashed across Jeongin’s front. He stood with his head turned toward the bed, alerted by the sound of Jisung stirring. His face was obscured in the darkness, but Jisung could see a familiar blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His own favorite plaid blanket, with the fuzzy texture that was so nice when he was in heat.

“Hey,” Jisung said softly, his heart melting a little, “Good morning.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeongin said immediately, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Jisung yawned through the words. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, he felt sluggish and slow. He wondered what time it was. “I should get up anyway. It’s gotta be at least --”

He fumbled around next to his pillow until his hand encountered the hard shape of his phone.

“It’s 6 o’clock,” Jeongin said, seconds before Jisung pressed the power button on his phone and the numbers themselves blazed up at him aggressively.

He winced, half from the brightness level and half from how ass-early it was.

“Sorry,” Jeongin said again. The microwave let out a series of beeps and turned off, taking most of the light with it.

“It’s fine!” Jisung called out, aware that his tone was too loud and too bright to read as sincere, “It’s good for me! I’ve been meaning to get in the habit of getting up early anyway.”

He’d been meaning to do no such thing, but he forced himself to roll out of the bed, stumble his way to the curtains, and shove them aside as if he were eager and ready to greet the day.

The day that greeted him back was gray and kind of sad looking. He stared up at the leaden, overcast sky and heaved a sigh. On his day off? Really? Not that he’d been planning to go out or leave the apartment at all, it was just the principle of the matter. He pushed the curtains all the way to the side and propped open one of the windows to let in some fresh air.

He turned back around to find Jeongin sitting at the little round dining table with his -- Jisung squinted, then leaned down to pick his glasses up off the floor and put them on -- with his container of microwave instant rice. The expression he peered up at Jisung with was kind of cold and unfriendly. A little intimidating, in fact, but Jisung was pretty sure it was more awkwardness than active dislike.

At least he hoped that was the case.

“Bang Chan-ssi isn’t here?” Jeongin asked quietly, though he had to have smelled how old Chan scent had gotten. He gingerly held the hot container up to his mouth and scooped some rice in with his chopsticks.

“You can call him hyung,” Jisung assured him and not for the first time. The kid was adorably formal. “And yeah, he had to be at the coffee shop at five. He should be back around eight.”

Jeongin lowered the bowl, brows drawn together in confusion. “But he was just there last night. We didn’t leave until nearly 11 PM.”

Big words for someone who got up at 6 AM of their own volition.

“Oh, I know,” Jisung said, eyes widening and voice going even more falsely cheerful, “Believe me I know! Channie-hyung has to unlock the front door for the morning shift every day because he’s the only one with the keys. And then he has to drive the deposit to the bank. Fun! Because god-forbid we hire another supervisor to help him after the last one quit.”

Jisung hadn’t blamed her in the slightest. He only wished he could’ve convinced Chan to leave at the same time.

Unfortunately, Chan had two very frustrating hang-ups when it came to this job; loyalty and massive insecurity.

Chan had been just twenty and a part-time employee of six months when Owner Chen promoted him to manager despite zero experience. The shop’s previous manager had passed away unexpectedly and Owner Chen, miserly piece of shit that he was, hadn’t wanted to put in the work to hire a new manager or pay them the wage they deserved. But little Channie hadn’t known that. From his perspective, his dead-end part-time job had turned into a respectable salaried position with on-the-job training basically overnight. He’d been deeply afraid he didn’t deserve it and was going to fuck it up, but Owner Chen never fired him despite his many mistakes.

According to Chan, Owner Chen hadn’t been so bad back in those days. More likely he hadn’t yet realized how much shit he could pile on Bang Chan without push back.

Even now, years after Chan had come to understand how underpaid and overworked he was, he refused to quit. Part of it was that he didn’t want to leave the other employees in the lurch, and the other part, he’d admitted to Jisung during a session of unexpectedly soul-bearing post-rut pillow talk, was that he didn’t want the last five years to have been a waste. If he left now, he’d always be afraid that if he’d given it just a little more time, all those promises would’ve come to fruition.

And boy oh boy, did Han Jisung relate to that fear.

So as much as he hated the coffee shop — as much as they both hated it — Jisung was determined to stick it out until Bang Chan was ready to give up. In the meantime, Jisung had his music and his livestreams, and once he got massively famous at them, he would make Bang Chan his spoiled house alpha and he’d never have to work a day again.

Jisung snorted to himself. Chan would be miserable as a house alpha. Not because he was bad at keeping house -- he was better at it than Jisung for sure -- but because he was super social and got bored easily.

An image popped into Jisung’s mind of a different alpha, one with a smug smirk who always looked devastatingly handsome, even in kitten pajamas. Speaking of an alpha suited to loafing around the house all day…

Jisung blocked the thought. Oh no. He wasn’t going to go there. Not with someone else in the apartment.

A someone else who was watching him with a wounded frown, as if the absurdity of Chan’s situation had personally hurt his feelings.

“Why won’t Bang Cha -- Channie-hyung hire someone?” Jeongin was asking, “He’s the manager.”

“Hyung can’t until the piece-of-shit owner gives him permission,” Jisung said, crossing his arms across his chest. Across his bare chest, because he was only wearing boxer shorts. He’d been more naked in front of strange omegas in bathhouses, of course, but it still wasn’t appropriate dress for company. He looked around for the shirt he’d been wearing last night. For once, it was the only piece of clothing on the floor.

“And the owner won’t give him permission, because he’s a giant dickhead who’d rather die than spend money.”

Jisung snatched up the shirt and pulled it over his head. His glasses caught the fabric and went askew, the nose guard digging into his skin. He freed them and yanked the shirt into place, head popping free.

“I hope he drowns one day," he laughed. As if it was a joke.

“Oh,” Jeongin said and lifted his rice again.

Welp, enough of that subject.

“You want anything else with your rice?” Jisung asked, “An egg or something?” He was pretty sure they had eggs.

Jeongin grimaced and shook his head. “Maybe later. Rice is all I can handle right now.”

“Morning sickness?”

“Sort of. I haven’t had to throw up yet, I’ll just feel sick for hours if I eat the wrong things at the wrong times. It sucks because I’m always starving in the mornings.”

“Gross,” Jisung said in a vaguely sympathetic way, half-distracted by his lack of readily available pants. He headed to the big closet to dig some sweatpants out of the pile he’d left last night and then to the bathroom to wash up.

He was bent over the sink, brushing his teeth, when his behavior over the last few minutes caught up with him. Fuck, he’d acted weird, hadn’t he? Clowning around about boring work crap like the kid actually cared, and that stupid comment about drowning. Way to sound creepy. And “gross”? He seriously just said “gross” to an omega dealing with pregnancy symptoms? Ugh.

He leaned forward to rest his forehead on the faucet and let the gnawing distress of having fucked up a social situation wash back and forth through him. He couldn’t even hide in here to keep it from happening again. He had to go back out and keep talking to Jeongin. Keep making an idiot of himself.

That thought had a frantic tightness clutching at his chest. He tore himself away from it and straightened up. He put all his focus into counting the seconds while he brushed, all the way through the full three minutes. He spat out the toothpaste. Rinsed his mouth. Lathered up his cheeks and jaw. Shaved. Washed his face. Applied toner, applied lotion. Thought about nothing but the next step in his routine until it was done.

He let out a long exhale. Most of the tightness had faded, leaving only a faint restlessness behind. Okay. He was okay. He could handle this.

He reached for his phone on the counter and opened up his last text chat with Bang Chan. It was tempting to ask his alpha for reassurances, but the idea of standing there, typing out everything he’d said and all of Jeongin’s reactions just so Chan could tell him it was nothing to stress over felt nearly as embarrassing as the initial conversation.

Instead, he responded to Chan’s customary [good morning baby] text with [for someone who worried so much about bringing a stranger home, you sure did leave me alone with him the first chance you got. I could’ve been eaten].

By the time he walked back out to the main room, he felt more like a human capable of basic socialization. Jeongin was still at the table, now sans chopsticks and rice container, his phone in one hand. He kept turning it on and off, his distant gaze aimed at a corner of the ceiling. He didn’t react to Jisung’s return, apparently lost in his own head.

Jisung went to the mini-fridge. There were no eggs inside or anything particularly fresh, but there were cans of beer and Monster energy drink, a bottle of gochujang, some pastries nicked from the coffee shop, and a couple different packages of jerky that didn’t actually belong there. He took a can of Monster and joined Jeongin at the table.

“All right,” he said with more conviction than he felt and cracked open the Monster, “How much do you feel up for talking?”

Jeongin had the audacity to look suspicious. “About what?”

Jisung took a mouthful of his drink, only cringing a little at the way it mixed with the lingering taste of toothpaste. “About your situation. I know you gave hyung some of the basics last night.”

He stopped there, unsure of how to continue. As if mentioning Bang Chan had summoned him, Jisung’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He finished it out without looking.

Across from him Jeongin made a face and lifted one shoulder. “There isn’t anything else. I broke up with my alpha, I banged a beta, and now I’m knocked up. All my friends in Seoul are their friends and my parents are never going to speak to me again.”

Jisung’s eyebrows jumped to his hairline, his thumb frozen in the middle tracing out his security pattern. Now that was something new. Bang Chan had told it like Jeongin was playing around with both parties at the same time; this version sounded more like the beta was a rebound or something. He finished unlocking his phone and stared down at Chan’s message without immediately reading it.

“Was your alpha unhappy about the break up?”

Jeongin blinked and groaned, pulling the blanket higher up around his ears and face. Jisung guessed he hadn’t meant to mention that part.

“It’s complicated,” he spoke through the fabric, a whine in his voice, “I don’t see how it matters. I can’t go back to him either way and I still don’t know where I’m going to go from here.”

On the phone screen, Chan’s message read [everything ok?], by-passing Jisung’s attempt at humor like the jerk he was.

Jisung typed back a partially honest [yes] and loudly announced, “Okay, here’s the thing.” He tossed the phone a couple inches away and slapped both palms down on the table. Better to bite the bullet. “I’m not being nosy for the hell of it, I swear. Hyung and me really need to know if you’re in some kind of danger from your alpha. That’s super impor—”

“I’m not,” Jeongin snapped.

Jisung leaned back involuntarily. Wow, okay then.

“It’s not like that. He’d never hurt me. He only cares about my safety.” He hesitated and sank down further in the chair, ire deflating. “That’s part of the reason I broke up with him.”

When he didn’t elaborate past that, Jisung clapped his hand on the table. “Okay. Good.”

He waited, but Jeongin only remained hunched up the blanket, seemingly lost in his head again. Jisung wanted to keep digging, but all he really needed to know was if Jeongin needed more serious protection than the two of them could offer, and since that wasn’t the case, the rest of Jeongin’s romantic life wasn’t his business.

“Okay,” he repeated. He took another swig of the Monster, swishing it around in his mouth to wash out the last of the mint and to prepare himself for the next bit. He swallowed and asked, “How far along are you?”

The answer was almost twelve weeks and was a topic Jeongin was a lot more lively about. Excited, even, going so far as to push up his shirt to show the developing bump. He’d started noticing changes to his body and scent over a month ago, but it was only two weeks ago that he finally understood what was happening. By that point, his scent had changed so much he had to completely hide it to keep from getting caught. That only lasted for a week before his friends and classmates started to get suspicious. Plenty of people used perfumes to obscure or enhance their natural scents, but covering it entirely was rarely necessary and bound to garner attention. They were rightly worried he was ill and trying to hide it from them.

That was when he dropped all of his classes, blocked everyone’s numbers, and traveled to the other side of Seoul to hole away in a hotel. That’s where he’d stayed until yesterday, when the last of his money ran out.

In the silence that followed that explanation, Jeongin said, “It was pretty stupid of me.”

Jisung, who’d spent the last five minutes waiting for a not-awkward-moment to broach the ‘hey, are you sure you wanna have that baby? Because I know a guy.’ topic, went, “No, no, pfft, no, it’s not, you know…”

He trailed off. Jeongin was staring at him.

“It was stupid,” he said bluntly.

“It was a little short-sighted,” Jisung admitted, “Because you panicked. We all do dumb shit when we panic. Have you talked to your birth pack at all since you found out?”

“Just the usual weekly check-ins,” Jeongin said, “They haven’t found out about me dropping or I’d be hearing about it.”

“No chance of your school friends telling them?”

Apparently not, because Jeongin’s family was very religious and traditional, and most of his friends in Seoul weren’t, so he’d kept the two halves of his life separate. The only partial exception was one ‘Hyunjin-hyung’, a friend he’d met at church in Seoul, but even though he’d told his pack about said friend, they hadn’t been introduced and Hyunjin had no way of contacting them. All his Busan friends were the reverse situation of the Seoul ones; connected either to his childhood church or his primary school, and both groups knew and were known by his birth pack.

“The funny part is they wouldn’t care about the dropping,” Jeongin said, mouth twisting into something that quite a smile, his scent going bitter, “They already thought I was silly for wanting to become a doctor when being a caregiver or nurse was more sensible for an omega. If I called them to say I had to drop because my alpha wanted a baby right away, they would be so happy.”

Jisung stretched his mouth into his own parody of a smile. He got it. His birth pack — what was left of it, at least — wasn’t that conservative, but he’d still been raised with the assumption that he’d end up mated into a pack that would make him pick between his dreams and his obligation to carry their babies. It’s just what omegas had to anticipate.

Instead, he’d found Bang Chan.

“I really wanted to be a doctor, but I think I want this more,” Jeongin said, answering the question Jisung hadn’t managed to ask. He laced his fingers over his stomach, cradling the modest swell there. “I just wish the situation was different. Maybe oemma was right that I wasn’t that serious about the doctor thing to begin with.”

“Hey, come on, a baby isn’t a career death sentence,” Jisung said, "You’re still young. You can go back to school after the birth and let your pack take of the — ”

He caught himself too late, clapping his hand over his mouth. Jeongin turned to stare at him, expression flat.

“I’m sorry,” Jisung said around his fingers.

Jeongin, unexpectedly, laughed at him. Dimples dented his cheeks and his eyes turned into glowing slits. Jisung’s heart thudded. The boy was beautiful. He’d noticed that from the start, of course, but it was something else seeing a genuinely happy expression on his face. It took his beauty to a whole other level.

“You’re really shit at this,” he said, giggling.

“I know,” Jisung whined and let his forehead bounce against the table. His heart still fluttered. “I’m shit at giving advice, too, because I’ve got literally nothing else for you. Hyung’s way better at this stuff.”

Jeongin took a breath and let it out again. “You’re both already helping me a lot. Seriously, thank you,” he added, ducking his head shyly, “I’m… I know that I need to talk to my family. I can’t make any real plans until I do. I’m just not — I’m not ready.”

“You don’t have to do it today. Or tomorrow.” Or next week, or next month, Jisung thought but didn’t say out loud. “You can stay with us however long you need. Seriously,” he echoed, lifting his head to meet Jeongin’s eyes and convey the sincerity of his words.

Jeongin hesitated, but finally nodded in acceptance.

Jisung let the silence sit for a minute, when he remembered an activity a lot more comfortable than sitting mopily at the table all day.

“Hey, wanna make a nest with me?”

Yang Jeongin was less enthused about making a nest with him than Jisung had hoped, but after they decimated the leftover pastries, brushed their teeth again, and discovered their mutual fondness for shoes, he got a lot more amiable.

By the time Bang Chan made it home, his forearms festooned with bags of groceries, Jisung and Jeongin were pressed side-to-side in the middle of the bed, encircled in a centimeters high wall of pillows, blankets, stuffed animals, three of Chan's shirts, and one pair of his sweatpants. The security of the nest and the physical contact had wound down Jisung's nerves enough that he'd managed to tell Jeongin about his music and show him a few of the performance videos. Fortunately, Jeongin loved his work and wasn’t quiet about saying so. Unfortunately, watching the music videos had one of Jisung’s gaming livestreams pop up in his recommended videos and Jeongin decided to watch the three hour cringefest despite Jisung’s squirming insistence it was nothing worth seeing.

Once he realized Jeongin wasn’t going to be dissuaded, Jisung distracted himself by updating Chan with what he’d learned and speculating wildly (and a bit inappropriately) on Jeongin's situation. Now Bang Chan stood over the bed, looking down at the two of them with a smile so sweetly adoring, it made Jisung’s ears hot just to see it.

“What?” he demanded and held his phone over his face to shield himself, “Stop it, don’t look at me. Stop.”

Chan leaned over to peer around the phone, so Jisung moved it to block him again, and again, when Chan leaned the other way. They kept this up for a bit, Chan trying to smile at him sappily and Jisung trying to block the view, until Chan burst into giggles.

“Okay, okay,” he said in laughing defeat and headed to the kitchenette with his armloads.

Jisung missed the attention almost the instant it was gone. He sat up and moved aside a pillow and part of the comforter so he could climb out of the nest without taking the whole wall of material with him. Jeongin was still watching his video and showed no sign of stopping, so Jisung decided to take advantage of his current disinterest.

He bounced across the room to wrap himself around Chan’s back.

“Hi,” he chirped, breathing in the rich, spicy scent of his alpha. Chan put the last of the shopping bags on the counter and turned in his arms.

“Hi baby,” Chan said back, bending his head to nose along Jisung’s jawline. Jisung sighed and relaxed his head to the side, submitting easily to the affection.

On a normal morning, Chan would be climbing into bed and snuggling him awake right about now. If Jisung put up enough of a fuss -- and was cute enough while he did it -- he might convince Chan to stay with him and get in another hour or two of sleep; if he didn’t, he was dragged out of bed by his sadistic and schedule-obsessed alpha and forced to act like a functioning member of society. In either situation, he always made sure to get a whole bunch of kisses and scenting to start his day with.

He was about to nudge Chan’s face into position for the kissing portion of the morning routine when Bang Chan’s scent suddenly thickened, going warm and musky. He’d moved down from Jisung’s neck to his shoulder and was nuzzling into the part of his shirt Jeongin had been resting his head against. Jisung blinked.

“Ooooh?” he breathed out, intrigued and amused at once.

Chan froze, either realizing how he was reacting or realizing he’d been caught at it. “Shut it,” he muttered.

“No, no, tell me.” Jisung wrapped a hand around his nape, fingers clenching in the short curls there, and angled Chan’s head so he could whisper directly into his ear. “What’s doing it for you? Having two hot, sexy omegas in your bed? Our scents mixing together?” Chan shivered against him and Jisung grinned triumphantly, breath hot and damp on his skin. “Does it help that he’s bred? That he smells all lush and fertile? Does it make you think of -- aack!”

Jisung tried to twist away from the hands now pinching and tickling at his sides. Chan held on and refused to let him escape.

“What was that?” Chan demanded, “What were you saying?”

“Nothing! Ah, stop! Stop it!” Jisung cried out between giggles. “I give, I give!”

Chan left off the tickling and reeled him back in for kisses that were a lot more tame than what Jisung was craving. At his disapproving pout, Bang Chan gave an exaggerated sniff and jerked his chin at the bed. And yeah, okay, they’d stunk up the place a bit in their excitement. Jeongin was an adult and knew they were mates, so he had to expect they were going to smell like they wanted to hump each other’s legs from time to time, but there was a limit. Assaulting one’s houseguest with the full olfactory experience of your sex life was Bad Hosting 101.

Jisung still heaved a big sigh at being denied. Chan’s smile became more of a smirk.

‘Later’, he mouthed.

‘Promises, promises,’ Jisung mouthed back.

They exchanged a final kiss and parted to put away the groceries.

It took some creative rearranging to fit all the fruits, vegetables, meat, canned goods, and snacks Bang Chan had bought into their limited storage space. It was officially more variety than their kitchen had seen in -- well, ever. The two of them mostly lived off of raymeon, store-bought kimchi, canned chicken, and boiled eggs because it was filling, easy to prepare, and cheap. Every atypically healthy dietary choice he pulled out of the shopping bags stirred a feeling in Jisung he couldn’t quite pin down. Once they finished, they checked on Jeongin. He was too absorbed in the video to notice them until Jisung flopped belly-down on the wall of the nest. It stung a bit to see Jeongin’s earlier wariness return at Chan’s efforts to make conversation, but Chan stuck to light topics like what he wanted for lunch and if there was anything he needed to get done that day and he began to loosen up again. They ended up taking a trip to the laundromat, since Jeongin was down to the last of his clean clothes.

When they got back, Jisung shut himself in the studio to run a livestream. Chan was surprised, since it wasn’t one of his scheduled days, but the slightly-less than usual group of viewers that showed up were delighted and generous with tips. After a few hours of conversing with his chat, freestyling a rap piece, and reacting to the songs and meme videos they recommended, he staggered out to curl up in the nest with Jeongin for a good long nap.

When evening rolled in, they grilled up some pork and vegetables and washed some perilla leaves to make ssam with and dragged out Jisung’s desk chair so they could all sit around the table to eat.

Once the food was half gone, Chan cleared his throat. “So I called around my friends about your situation, Jeongin-ah,” he started.

Jeongin sat straighter in his seat, giving Chan all his attention.

“I didn’t share your name or anything too personal, just that I know an omega who’s pregnant and packless. I found out about some omega-only shelters, but they’re --”

“Really stringent,” Jeongin interrupted, “I know. I called a bunch the other day and they all wanted the contact information for my birth pack and the baby’s sires. A couple said I had to join their --” he made air quotes, “-- ‘pack reconciliation program’ to even be let in. The rest needed me to say on record that my former pack and alpha were abusive. I couldn’t lie like that. One place didn’t allow children and told me that being pregnant counted.”

Silence fell as they processed that.

“What the fuck,” Jisung said finally.

Bang Chan was nodding grimly, the chagrined look on his face saying he’d already heard this and then some.

“I got an earful from my friend who does social work,” he said, “The government really, really forces them to focus on getting omegas back to their mates and families. Omegas who leave their packs have to jump through so many hoops to get help. Now, the upside,” Chan held up a finger. “Is that when you are ready to tell your birth pack, there’s people who’ll help mediate with them for you and support you if they do kick you out.”

“That doesn’t help me with not getting the sires involved,” Jeongin said.

Chan put his finger back down. “No. It doesn’t.”

He had the expression that meant he had a whole, big rebuttal right on the tip of his tongue. Jisung nudged his foot to cut it off. “So, public programs are a no go. Anything else?”

Chan cast him a sideways look and heaved a breath. “That depends. Jeongin, I know someone who’d be happy to take you in if you wanted to go somewhere else. They’re an older pack with a couple kids, so they’re experienced with pregnancy and all that. They’re good people. But you’re welcome to stay with us, too. This is not me telling you to get out, for the record. I just want you to have options.”

Jisung felt himself tense and focused on assembling another ssam so he wouldn’t be tempted to make sad eyes at Jeongin. They’d only had him around for a day, but it felt right, him being there. Jisung didn’t want him to go.

Jeongin was quiet for a bit.

“I don’t know,” he said finally. His scent dipped, turning sour. “I really hate being a burden --”

Chan and Jisung spoke up at once, voices overlapping in protest.

“You’re not a burden, we wanted to -- ”

“Look, I know our place is small and crappy --”

“Ah?!” Chan cried.

“-- but we’re not struggling,” Jisung plowed forward. Well, not struggling that much. “If you’re really that worried about it, we can find some way for you to make money. You’re not that far along yet.”

“Or,” Chan said firmly, “You just focus on resting and figuring out where you want to go next. Don’t worry about us, okay? If an issue comes up, we’ll find a solution that won’t leave you on the street. I promise.”

Jeongin stared down at his plate, expression somber and arms wrapped around himself. “I don’t want to be passed on to anyone else,” he said quietly, “I know that’s not what you’re doing, hyung, it’s just what I’m feeling. I’ve been miserable since I left my dorm. I’m not safe or comfortable anywhere.”

He rolled his lips inward and pressed his brows together, visibly fighting tears. Jisung’s chest threatened to cave in. He reached out to curl his fingers around Jeongin’s wrist, unable to stop himself from offering contact, comfort. Jeongin twisted his hand around to lace their fingers together instead.

“But I feel safe here,” Jeongin said at last.

Chan’s strong alpha scent bloomed, filling the air with its promise of security and protection. Jisung remembered the first time he’d breathed it in and chose to put his faith in it.

“All right,” Bang Chan said, equally quiet. He put his hand palm up on the table. Jeongin took it with his free hand. “Then stay here.”

Much later, after they dismantled the nest and Jeongin had passed out on the futon, Chan pulled Jisung close and said in his ear, “We can’t keep them.”

Them, Jisung thought. Jeongin and his baby, both.

Bang Chan had a point. One dependent would push their budget to the breaking point. Add the eventual baby and it was a recipe for disaster. Since when were they ready to be parents, anyway?

Jisung only hummed.

“We can’t,” Chan repeated and Jisung knew he wasn’t doing a better job of convincing himself than he was of convincing Jisung.

“Shh, shhh.” Jisung pressed his hand over Chan’s face, squishing his lips and nose around. Chan whined like he was being tortured. “Stop being a pessimist.”

Everything was up in the air. Jeongin’s family may be super supportive and welcome him home to Busan. He may change his mind about the baby’s sires and form a cozy little pack with the two of them instead. He could turn out to be an annoying jerk who was intolerable to live with. Anything was possible.

Jisung knew what outcome he wanted, but he didn’t know yet whether it excited or terrified him.

Only time would tell.

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