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If You Think the Coffee Sucks, Wait Until You Meet the Owner Terminology:
Hannie: Binnie:
Hannie: Binnie: Annoying rich fuck. Jisung closed the messenger app to pull up the payment notification again. He stared at the total. It was hard to get exact numbers on how much money there was in doing toplines. It depended a lot on who you knew; big industry people were going to have more money in general, but also more incentive to short-change creators on royalties, while indie groups made big promises despite lacking the resources to fill them. But he'd done his research and Changbin was a great resource in that regard. While he wasn't above talking himself up, Jisung trusted him to be honest about what his industry connections were offering. Based on all that, Seo Changbin had sent him enough money for at least four songs. Jisung wasn't stupid. He knew Changbin had a giant soft spot for him. He undoubtedly still saw Jisung as that traumatized ten-year-old his beta-sire brought home from a case one day. He'd known it'd be a piece of cake to get Changbin to front him a loan with his toplining gig as collateral, and if Jisung was extra cute about it, he'd toss in some additional won as a gift. It felt slimy to take advantage of Changbin's protectiveness and generous nature like that, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He'd had no clue Changbin would dump money on him before he even brought it up. Especially not more money than he trusted himself to deliver on.
Hannie: Binnie: Jisung snorted. Jeongin started to glance over his shoulder, but was distracted by a body being reported in his Among Us game. He'd gotten curious about the game after watching one of Jisung's livestreams and prodded Jisung into showing him how to play it. He turned out to have a real knack for playing Imposter and avoiding suspicion, but he fell apart during the voting portion of the game. Jisung had tried to explain the strategy behind voting and Jeongin had nodded along, then went with his -- hilariously wrong -- gut instinct regardless. He'd played a dozen rounds at this point and Jisung was pretty sure he was being contrary on purpose.
Hannie: Jisung waited, but when Changbin didn't respond after a full minute, he shoved the phone into his hoodie pocket. Changbin was probably off browbeating Chan into eating overpriced Chinese food and would use that to justify leaving Jisung on read for the next two days. He needed to focus on something else before he had a stress meltdown over what he'd been roped into. He re-settled his guitar in his lap and went back to noodling around with chord progressions. On a good day, he could spend hours doing this, coming up with and trying out ideas on the fly, and maybe remembering half of them. Today wasn't a good day. Today it barely held his interest for five minutes. With a groan, he returned his guitar to its stand and pulled out his phone again. This time, he made himself go into the notes section and open up whatever last bit of writing he'd been working on. Ugh. Trash. What had he been thinking? He deleted a whole verse and proceeded to retype what he'd removed almost word for word because he couldn't think of any better phrasing, rapped it softly to himself, and almost burst into tears. "Hyung?" Jisung jolted his head up and quickly wiped his cheeks. "It's fine, I'm fine!" Jeongin watched him worriedly. Behind him on Jisung's computer screen, the gaggle of crewmates ran circles around each other in the lobby. Jisung flapped his hand. "Ignore me! Go back to your game." Jeongin glanced back at the computer, took a second to close the game, and turned his full attention back to Jisung. "I was getting bored, anyway. What were you singing?" Shit, he'd forgotten Jeongin was close enough to overhear him. In the past, he could pace around the apartment, belting out lyrics in whatever volume wouldn't have the neighbors knocking on the door, and never had to worry about anyone else's opinion of his work. It was still a little weird to have someone around all day, every day. Not a bad kind of weird - the opposite of bad, in fact. Jisung may struggle in crowded settings and was the most comfortable at home, but he still liked company and got lonely easily. The days Chan had solo shifts at the coffee shop were always the hardest on him. He usually tried to schedule streams for those days so that he wasn't completely isolated, but it still wasn't the same as having someone there with him. "A mess," he said, waving around his phone with the notes app open, "This one has been giving me trouble for weeks. Every time I think I've got the solution, it still doesn't sound right. Blaah." Jeongin turned the desk chair all the way around, super serious about giving him all of his attention. It was gratifying. He was wearing one of Chan's hoodies, which was also gratifying in a different direction. "Is it for your next release?" "No, that's all ready to go. There's no rush or urgency with this," Jisung said. He stared blindly at the screen, seeing only a blur in place of the words causing him suffering. "I don't even know why I'm freaking out about it." He knew why. It wasn't the song. It was that he'd finally committed himself to external deadlines and responsibilities and all new people finding reasons to be disappointed in him. It was the big chunk of change sitting in his bank account that he hadn't earned and didn't deserve, but that he had a big person-shape reason to not not send it back like a respectable person. His foreseeable future promised to involve a lot of crying over lyrics that weren't worth the tears. "Sing it for me?" "It's more of a lyrical rap." Jeongin, predictably, gave him a flat look for his pedantry. Jisung smirked, but went through the lyrics at full volume this time, hand stabbing the air to punctuate each beat. Jeongin listened intently, nodding along, expression serious. At the end, he paused for several seconds, then shook his head. "It already sounds so good, hyung. I don't hear a problem. Go again?" He obediently did a second run through and when Jeongin paused this time, Jisung couldn't stop himself from rambling. "So like, I want the verse to end like da dada da daa-aah." He traced the desired changes in pitch and beat through the air with his hand. "It works if I stress the syllables here and here, but it just… aagh, I don't know, it changes the - the something. The feel of it." "Oh." From the vacant look on his face, Jisung thought he wasn't making any sense at all, but after a moment, understanding dawned. "Yeah, I see what you mean." He sang the verse himself, not quite hitting the right tempo because while he'd clearly had some vocal training, it wasn't in rap. It gave the song a different feel and didn't really work for what Jisung wanted with this piece, but there was something about it… "It's kind of awkward," Jeongin said, cutting off the new idea taking shape in Jisung's mind, "Like the emphasis is in the wrong spot." Jisung pounded his thigh. "Right? If I could just -" All at once, like a frozen window wiped clean of frost, the solution became clear to him. He removed a few lines and typed in new ones, the words he needed now appearing easily where he'd had to dig and struggle for them before. "Okay, okay, how about this." He sang through the section again. Jeongin listened to it with the same serious focus as before. This time, at the end, his face lit up. "Hyung!" he exclaimed. "It's better, right?" Jisung couldn't hold back his grin, cheeks aching with it. "It is! You didn't change much, but it fits together so good now! You're amazing, hyung." And flatteringly, Jeongin did look genuinely amazed, his eyes all but sparkling. Jisung's chest was going to explode if he puffed it out any further. "Thank you, thank you, I couldn't have done it without you. Seriously," he insisted when Jeongin ducked his head in shy denial, "You were a live-saver, Innie! I've been losing my mind trying to figure out what was wrong with it. But I tell you about it once and --" He snapped his fingers. "Solved just like that! Wah, you're so cool." Jeongin squirmed, caught between embarrassed and pleased. "Stop." Never one to miss an opportunity to be aggravating, Jisung let his voice low and cooing. "Aigo, our Innie-yah, such a good helpful boy, aigo." The pleased embarrassment flattened into exasperation. "Hyung." Jisung dragged himself closer, the chair legs screeching and stuttering across the floorboards. Jeongin watched him like he was an approaching snake. "He's so cute, so sweet and kind and smart, aigo, my Innie, give hyungie a little kissie." He leaned toward Jeongin, eyes wide and lips puckered ridiculously. Now, Jisung liked kisses. They were one of his favorite gestures of affection. They were also one of his favorite methods of harassing his friends, because kisses were right on that line of being considered either too childish for adults (in the case of cheek smooches) or too intimate for strictly platonic friends (in the case of mouth-to-mouth pecks). Jisung's own friend-groups tended to lean toward being performatively disgusted by them, which gave him lots of fodder for teasing. Given how proper and reserved Jeongin was and how reluctantly he responded to most of Jisung's affection, Jisung guessed he'd be on the "eww gross" side. He expected to get shoved away before he got too close. He didn't expect Jeongin to suddenly dart forward and meet him in the middle. It wasn't much of a kiss, in part because Jisung was working some major fish lips on his end, but the brush of mouth against mouth was unmistakable. Jisung froze in place. Jeongin pulled back only an inch or two, his hot breath fanning across Jisung's cheeks. Jisung huffed out a little laugh, still caught in the headspace of this being a joke, a tease that Jeongin just called his bluff on, but as the seconds crawled by, and the other omega remained in his space, his heart started to pound wildly. "How was that?" Jeongin asked in a low voice. His hormone-ridden scent curled thick in Jisung's nose, a telling hint of sweetness threaded through it. Oh. Jisung swallowed through the tension clamping around his throat and shrugged. "Eh." Jeongin's dark fox eyes turned up into smiling crescents. "Can I try again?" So the thing was. From the moment he'd handed over those sandwiches to a forlorn looking Jeogin, Jisung had decided he wanted to bring the other omega home. Jeongin was certainly attractive and Jisung could certainly see himself being attracted to him, but it hadn't been a romantic impulse. Rather, his instincts had insisted the boy needed looking after and Jisung was a firm believer in following his instincts. (A conviction that had both helped him and gotten him into no small amount of shit over the course of his 22 years.) Figuring out what kind of relationship they had after that was a problem for future-Jisung. Again, Jisung wasn't stupid. He knew what it meant when Jeongin started rubbing his scent mark into Chan's clothes. He knew what it meant when Chan got that soft look in his eye. He reveled in it, because Chan and Jeongin falling in love and becoming mates would make figuring out their pack dynamic and legal situation so much easier. If and when he and Bang Chan managed to trick a beta into falling for their bullshit and they could officially pack-up, registering Jeongin as Chan's secondary omega would be a lot more straightforward than trying to get him registered as their adult dependent. It'd also make Chan and their beta the baby's legal sires, which would provide them protection on that front, too. In all this, it never occurred to Jisung that Jeongin would make a move on him before Chan. He'd hoped something might happen eventually… but not all omegas were attracted to other omegas. Jeongin's eyes were flicking back and forth over Jisung's face, betraying nerves that belied his bold actions. It made something warm fill his chest. "Yeah," he breathed out in answer. Jeongin sighed and leaned in again. Jisung's eyes closed at the press of lips to his. There was more force and pressure this time, the intent behind the contact clear and with none of the timidness Jeongin so often showed in their interactions. Jisung lifted his chin to return the kiss with equal intensity and he could feel Jeongin softening, relaxing at his reciprocation. Their mouths moved together for a long moment, building heat and sensitivity. After a bit, Jeongin started to deepen it, mouth opening further to let the wet silk of his inner lips catch and pull on Jisung's lower lip. Jisung shivered, a tingling bloom of arousal spreading all the way to his fingers. All at once, it was too much. He reached up and cupped the side of Jeongin's face, holding him in place so he could pull back and catch his breath. Jeongin allowed the retreat, pressing their foreheads together. Jisung didn't want him to feel rejected, he just — just needed a pause. They sat like that, the air between them filled with candy sweetness made heavy by the undercurrent of musk. Finally, Jisung opened his eyes to find Jeongin already watching him. An unwanted surge of anxiety had him coughing out another awkward laugh. "Hey, hi," he whispered, everything feeling too close and intimate for loud voices, "Sorry." "Don't apologize," Jeongin said, equally quiet. He leaned into Jisung's hand on his cheek, his eyes fluttering half-way closed and something about the motion made Jisung's throat hurt. "I'm sorry, I kind of sprung that on you." The corner of his mouth turned up. "In my defense, you were being very cute." Jisung flushed embarrassingly hot for such a mild flirt. "Who's cute? Don't you know I'm the older one here? Find a more mature compliment." "I stand corrected. You were being a dried husk, then." Jisung yelled in protest and Jeongin burst into laughter, effectively destroying the intimate hush that had fallen over them. Realizing he had an escape route from what just happened and all the feelings and questions it kicked up, Jisung broke into a rant against the disrespectful youth and their failure to respect the older generation the way they're meant to. "No, it's not like that at all," Jeongin said, waving his hands back and forth in a negative, "I'm very old fashioned. It's just against you." Jisung sprung to his feet. "Yah —!" On the computer desk, Jeongin's phone started vibrating and chirping. They both looked at it. In the week Jeongin had been there, he hadn't gotten a single phone call. It was possible he had and his phone had just been on silent, but given that he'd blocked all of his Seoul friends and was avoiding his Busan ones, it was more likely he wasn't talking to anyone outside of their tiny apartment. It was another thing that Chan and Jisung worried about. They were doing what they could for Jeongin, but he deserved to have people outside of the two of them to socialize with. "It's my mother," Jeongin said, not bothering to get close enough to read the screen, "The omega one. She's always the one who calls me." "Hmm." Jisung acknowledged. The phone continued to chirp. They continued to watch it. Dread clutched at his chest. Why did he volunteer to help Jeongin with this, again? He could've gone out and let Changbin scold him instead. Changbin was a giant baby; he would've panicked and folded the second Jisung got teary-eyed. Han Jisung, you're a dumbass. The phone went still. In the ensuing silence, Jisung asked, "Are you going to call her back?" Jeongin let his head fall back. "I need to." "Ok. Where would you be most comfortable?" Jeongin stayed where he was, face turned up to the ceiling. He was holding his belly with one hand, the way he often did when the topic of either his family or the baby came up. Jisung hesitated over what he was supposed to do. Should he give him more time? Needle him into moving like Bang Chan often had to do with him? No matter how close he felt to Jeongin already, he only knew so much about the guy. He felt entirely under equipped to help him through this crisis. At last, Jeongin said, "The bed." "Great!" Jisung said too loudly, "Let's go to the bed!" They made it three steps out into the main room before Jeongin turned around and nearly ran into Jisung. "I changed my mind. The closet." The walk-in closet attached to the bathroom was long enough for Jisung to stretch out on the floor without his head or toes touching the walls, and wide enough for him and Jeongin to sit shoulder to shoulder against the back wall. They had to pull down the hangers and shove aside the shoes to fit comfortably, ending up with an arrangement that was thirty percent nest and seventy percent laundry pile. The whole space smelled of Bang Chan. Jisung's scent came through, too, as did Jeongin's, but they were nothing compared to Chan's powerful alpha odor yelling "mine, mine, mine" from every scrap of fabric. If Chan weren't his alpha, it would feel oppressive. Instead, it was comforting, like Channie himself was there, standing between him and the rest of the world. Jeongin held up his unlocked phone. The screen blazed bright white in the sullen yellow glow of the closet light. "I'm going to tell my parents about the baby," he said. They'd gone over this after Bang Chan had headed out. "Okay," Jisung said. "I'm going to tell them that I won't be involving either sire, no matter what." "Right." "Is there anything you don't want them to know about you and Channie-hyung?" Jisung cocked his head a little in confusion. "I don't think so? I mean, there's nothing they can do to us, right? If you think they're going to give you a hard time for shacking up with a packless alpha and omega, you can just tell them you're safe with friends. That's all that matters." Jisung belatedly winced at himself for calling it ‘shacking up', but Jeongin only nodded. "I just wanted to be sure. Is it okay if I put them on speaker?" "Sure, I'll keep quiet. Tell me if you need privacy at any point and I'll go." Jeongin nodded again. "Okay." Jisung held out his fist. "Fighting." "Fighting." Jeongin bumped their fists together, visibly steeled himself, and tapped his phone to return his mother's call. It rang twice before it was picked up. "Aish, you took so long your mother and father walked off," said a feminine voice in a strong Busan accent, "I'll go get them. Pick up this time." The call ended. "I see where you get it from," Jisung said. Jeongin sighed. "We're all just like this." Time inched by until the phone rang again. Jeongin answered it immediately. A chorus of greetings spilled out. On the other end of the line were Jeongin's alpha father, his beta and omega mothers, his uncle of unspecified dynamic, and his younger brother. Jisung could almost see Jeongin's will to confess drain out of him at the sound of that ringing, youthful voice. Jisung linked their free hands together, squeezing in support. The Yang pack went on to regale Jeongin with anecdotes of the past week. The first several minutes of it were startlingly funny. The content itself held zero interest to Han Jisung, since he didn't know them from a hole in the ground and all their lives were mundane as shit, but both of Jeongin's mothers had such dry wit and peppered their tales with so many clever asides that Jisung kept having to roll his lips together to keep from laughing out loud. His father and uncle spoke less, but when they did, it was with a hilarious bluntness that had the rest of the pack cackling. It was so lively, Jisung almost couldn't believe this was the family Jeongin was so scared of. He'd anticipated them being cold, distant, and strict. Instead, he got a group of deadpan jokesters. After a while, though, as the topic moved from their own personal lives to the people in their community, the conversation took an unpleasant turn. It went something like: Hey, you know what's-their-name over on such-and-such street, their daughter, the omega one, you know what she says? She says she doesn't like alphas. Ah, really? Yeah, says she won't mate with one ever. Oh good for her, she can roll around with a pack of betas, then. Maybe one will be magic and give her a baby by themself. Maybe one will be like your cousin's kid, you remember? I don't remember anyone's kid. Ai, you know, the alpha one that wanted to be called a beta. Oh, that one. I remember they brought him over that one time and tried to tell us ‘he wants to be called this and that'. I almost kicked them out. That's right, that's right. I said to them "if it's going to be like that, then as far as I'm concerned, his dynamic is ‘sleeping in the park tonight'." Ha ha! His new name is ‘cooking his own food'! Horribly, Jisung still felt a laugh bubbling up from the delivery alone, even as his stomach dropped from the realization of what they were saying. When the topic moved on to someone-or-other's packmate that started taking drugs after leaving the church and how that said everything that needed to be said about them, he looked over to check on Jeongin. Jeongin looked miserable, his scent heavy with shame and discomfort, his eyes meeting with Jisung's for only a second before flicking away again. Jisung thought about Jeongin moving over 300 miles away to go to school and his group of Seoul friends he never introduced to anyone back home. He thought about Jeongin kissing him and how some traditionalist groups thought it was unnatural for omegas to be attracted to each other. He leaned harder into Jeongin's side. Jeongin squeezed his hand in reaction. "Enough, enough, if I have to hear it again, I'll break something," his omega mother laughed in response to something or other, "Jeongin-ah, you've been so quiet. How are your classes going?" "Eomma," Jeongin said. His voice shook. "C-could you send Yoongie out, please? I have-have something to tell you." "Yah, yah, why can't I hear it?" the youthful voice cried. "Yoong, go to your room," his father said and all the playfulness and energy from earlier felt like it'd been sucked from the room. Grumbling, the boy left. Once there was the sound of a door closing, Jeongin's beta mother said, so gentle it hurt, "Innie, what happened?" "I'm pregnant." Silence. A collective inhale. "What?! How could you --" "When did you get an --" "I knew letting you go to that school --" "Yang Jeongin!" His omega mother's voice cut through the explosion of yelling. The other three quieted down. "Did someone take advantage of you?" Jeongin swallowed hard. "No, eomma." Her voice got several degrees cooler. "Then who is this alpha and beta that you've been running around with behind our backs?" "It doesn't matter, eomma. I won't be involving them." "You're saying they won't take responsibility?" Glaciers had nothing on Jeongin's dam. "I'm saying I haven't told them and I don't want them to know." There was a low hiss on the other side of the line, though Jisung couldn't tell from whom. "Jeongin-ah, think about what you're doing," his uncle said, "In this situation, the least you can do is pack-up with the sires." "I know, uncle, but I've decided that I won't," he said, "I - I wasn't serious with either of them. I was - I was the one playing around. It's my fault. I won't make them responsible for my actions." This next silence was the worst of them all. Jeongin's hands were shaking. Jisung reached over to grip his wrist with his other hand, squeezing rhythmically. "Ai," his beta mother burst out, "What do you expect us to do with this, Yang Jeongin? Do you know what the neighbors will say? What this will do to our reputation?" Jeongin winced. "I know," he said thickly, "I'm sorry." "What were you thinking?" she lamented, her voice fading in and out like she was pacing around, "How could we have gone so wrong? He was such a good boy!" "You were right, letting him go to Seoul was a bad idea," his omega mother said. "Jeongin," his father said. The disappointed tone of his voice made Jisung want to throw up and it wasn't even directed at him. "You understand we will no longer be paying for your schooling." Jeongin's expression when worryingly blank. "I understand, appa." "He should pay us back what we already wasted on him," his uncle said, followed by the sound of a slap and a yelp. "What good will that do?!" demanded his beta mother, and Jisung felt at least a little relieved they weren't going to be that petty and cruel. "We will no longer be paying for your living expenses, either," his father went on, dashing that relief, "I can't condone my money going toward this lifestyle you've chosen." "I understand. I'm - I'm so sorry, appa. I really am." The alpha let out a deep, drawn out sigh. "Will you be coming home?" Jeongin's throat worked. When he got the words out, they were tiny and fragile. "…can I?" Silence, yet again. Feeling Jeongin tremble against him, Jisung hated all of them. Hated that he'd spent even a minute thinking they were funny and charming. "What are you asking, of course you can come home," his omega mother said at last, as if the delay hadn't sucked all the sincerity out of her words, "You can always come home to us." "There will be changes," his father said evenly, relentlessly, "No more of this doctor nonsense. No more running about, since you've proven you can't be trusted to behave respectably." A soft mumble of protest rose in the background, but no one spoke out against him directly. "We'll see about finding you a pack and Jeongin --" The man paused and his tone got softer, like he was trying to be kind about all this even though he was the one making it awful. "-- you won't get to be picky about who you end up. I'll do my best, but not many alphas or betas want a -- someone else's offspring in their pack." Not many alphas or betas want a whore. He hadn't said the word, but Jisung heard the implication and from the way his breath caught, Jeongin had too. "I know," he said. Jisung held him tighter. If this got any worse, he was going to press the disconnect button and fuck the consequences. "I didn't want this for you," his father went on, terrible with genuine-sounding regret, "But I can't have you under my roof as a packless omega with an unclaimed baby. I can't be seen supporting your actions. Please reconsider becoming packmates with the sires. It's the best option for all of us." "I'll - I'll consider it, appa." "Of all the --" his omega mother began, her voice cracking. "There is nothing else for us to say here," his father cut her off, "We're past the point where scolding would serve any purpose. Jeongin-ah, you know what you did wrong." He paused. "Yes, appa," Jeongin said. Jisung bit harder into his already abused lower lip. "What happens next is up to you. Let us know when you've made your decision. I hope it will be the correct one. Goodbye, Jeongin." Jeongin dutifully gave his goodbyes to each parent and his uncle. No tears, no argument, just polite and proper Yang Jeongin. "Stay safe," his beta mother said in a small voice. The call ended. Jeongin let the phone tumble into the clothes stuffed between his hips and the wall. Jisung's anger burst out of him. "They — they didn't even ask if you had anywhere to stay! Or about your condition! If you had food! What the fuck?!" "They wouldn't," Jeongin said. He sounded numb and too calm. "A few years ago, one of the neighborhood kids got kicked out of the pack she ran away from home to be with. Her father drove in the middle of the night to go get her. Afterward, my eomma and their friends said she'd never learn her lesson if he kept spoiling her like that. If - if I was starving and homeless, they would say it's what - it would be what I deserved." "No, fuck that!" Jisung let go of Jeongin's hand to wrap an arm around his waist, trying to get him impossibly closer, as if Jisung could hold him tight enough to purge the entire conversation from his mind. "No one deserves that! You didn't do anything wrong, Innie-ah. You didn't, ok? The worst thing you did was make a mistake and that doesn't justify not caring for you. For a parent, taking care of their child should be the most important thing." Jeongin's head fell forward limply. "At least I know I can go home now. Get out of your and Channie-hyung's hair." "You think I'm letting you go back to that?!" Jisung's voice went shrill with incredulity. Jeongin's whole body convulsed and then he was sobbing. |