Chapter Text
Jeonghan drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
In the rearview mirror, his reflection showed his dark sunglasses perched on his nose, his red bucket hat covering a mass of blonde hair.
“I think I should cut it,” he said to no one.
He pulled at one bleached strand. His roots showed under the hat, the hair fragile and frayed.
Across the parking lot, Seungkwan walked quickly towards him, arms crossed around his middle.
Jeonghan squinted his eyes.
“Should I cut my hair?” he immediately asked him as Seungkwan sat in the passenger's seat.
“Yes,” Seungkwan said after a beat, adjusting the brim of his cap. His cheeks were flushed in a way that had nothing to do with the summer heat.
“Cheollie likes it long but…”
“You could be bald, and he would still want you,” Seungkwan pointed out.
Jeonghan beamed as he started the engine.
It was true. And it was a comforting weight, knowing that he was loved no matter what he looked like.
“So…” he tilted his head. “Where to?”
Seungkwan didn't meet his eyes.
“Coffee first. You know the one near the store where Wonwoo bought the cake for my birthday?”
Jeonghan blinked. That coffeshop was… at the very least a forty-minute drive, one that had been found by Wonwoo the morning he had been off for a photoshoot and almost missed Seungkwan's birthday party.
There was a coffeshop a block away from their apartment. There were at least a dozen others less than five minutes drive from their home.
But Jeonghan had seen the nervous way in which Seungkwan had been acting all week. How he avoided their gazes, how he jumped when Hansol touched his shoulder.
It had been the reason why he had suggested they go out that morning. Just them. And to talk as well.
“Okay,” he said, then, because if he needed this, then he would drive anywhere.
“Thank you,” Seungkwan softened against the seat.
As he drove, Seungkwan played some gentle music, something from a new girl group that Jeonghan knew nothing about except that they were all Omegas.
The morning traffic was light, the air conditioner blowing gently against his face as he focused on the road.
At one red light, he stopped behind a truck, and his gaze went to a couple walking on the sidewalk.
A little pup, perhaps two years old, toddled in front of their parents, chubby cheeks flushed. Their steps were uneven, and the parents —pushing a stroller, holding a bag, and looking generally disheveled— trailed after them, ready to catch them if they face planted on the hot asphalt.
Jeonghan smiled, something warm settling on his chest.
He imagined Seungcheol, running behind a little pup, and his hands tightened on the steering wheel.
“How cute,” he poked Seungkwan’s thigh to make him look.
Seungkwan followed his gaze, and stiffened. Pulling down on his cap, leg bouncing.
“Yeah.”
Seungkwan loved babies. Everyone knew that. He was the type of Omega that was a natural with pups, who knew how to interact with them, make them feel safe.
Jeonghan was… somewhere in the middle. Not squealing at every baby he saw, but always loving when a baby Carat ended in his arms.
“That yellow onesie is cute,” Jeonghan added as the light turned green.
Seungkwan made a noncommittal sound.
Thoughts trickled as he drove, and Seungkwan remained silent.
There was another reason why he had wanted to be alone with him. With Seungkwan, with another fellow Omega who might understand.
He didn't know when the desire had started, he had simply known it to take root in his heart and spread.
Jeonghan dreamed of stages. He dreamed of singing and dancing with his pack. He dreamed of a pup of his own.
Seungcheol knew nothing of this.
Jeonghan hadn't said a peep. Not even on his thirtieth birthday when he had blown out the candles with Seungcheol’s arms around his waist, and everyone told him he had to make a good wish for the next decade of his life.
Hadn't said anything when the assistants and crew had babies, and he always chose the most appropriate gifts for them.
When everyone expanded their packs, their lives.
Didn't say a word about the vague news he got of idols that got pregnant; idols that quickly retired or abandoned their groups.
Because he knew his reality. As much as he wanted a pup, it would affect every single aspect of his life. Of Seungcheol’s. Of Seventeen.
Still, the desire took his breath away sometimes. The longing to have a little body pressed up against his chest, to carry them and love them unconditionally.
“We are not that far,” Jeonghan swallowed, throat dry. He needed the iced coffee.
Seungkwan, who had been staring at the window for the majority of the trip, said nothing.
“You have to tell me.” Annoyed at the silent treatment, Jeonghan used a hand to pinch Seungkwan’s side. “What's wrong?”
The action would've typically earned him a squeal, a slap, a reaction. Something.
Instead, he got a shrug.
“Seungkwan-ah,” the silence was worrisome.
Jeonghan decided to park on a quiet street, close to the coffeeshop, and refused to keep driving until he got an answer.
As he pulled to a side, Seungkwan turned to look at him. Tears falling silently down his cheeks.
Jeonghan started, eyes wide. He opened his mouth, but Seungkwan beat him to it.
“I think I might be pregnant,” Seungkwan blurted out, and proceeded to burst into tears.
His foot slipped from the pedal, wheels turning towards the sidewalk. Jeonghan steered it correctly out of sheer habit.
“Wh—?” The sound died in his throat.
“I'm sorry! But my heat is late, and you know how punctual I am. And… and…” Seungkwan’s voice got lost between the hiccups and tears.
Once he miraculously managed to park, Jeonghan unbuckled and hugged him, tucking him against his chest like he used to do predebut, when they were just two overwhelmed young Omegas.
His shirt got wet with Seungkwan’s tears, and he ran a hand up and down his spine comfortingly.
“Your last heat,” Jeonghan whispered against his head. “When Seungcheol and Jihoon were in Japan for the award?”
He felt him nod.
That had been an interesting week. Seungcheol and Jihoon, gone. Jeonghan, in charge of leading the rest of the pack for an interview.
Seungkwan’s heat. Jisoo being called away after his mother got a nasty cold. Their main dishwasher, broken down. Chan losing his voice for three days.
“I… with Hansol, you know,” Seungkwan sniffed. “But Jun, I called for him at the end. So I think I might be, and if I am, I don't know the biological father, and also I know it doesn't matter, not in our pack, and they don't care, that the pup is ours…”
“Breathe.”
“...but I'm always so careful, and now I'm almost two weeks late, and I'm so young, or I feel young and hyung, I'm scared.”
“I understand,” Jeonghan replied quietly, tilting his head to look into his red-rimmed eyes.
He wiped at the tears with a thumb, and Seungkwan closed his eyes.
“Breathe,” he continued, becoming the steady island he needed to be. He ignored his own swirling thoughts. “It's okay, we can figure it out. Whatever the result is.”
“That's why I want to go to that coffeshop, there's a pharmacy a block away. And it's far from home.”
So nobody in their pack would see them buy the pregnancy test.
“And because I knew you would understand,” Seungkwan rested his cheek in Jeonghan’s open palm, eyes soft and glassy, “that you would come with me for support.”
“That's a given,” Jeonghan kissed him on the forehead, and felt him sigh.
A baby. Potentially.
Not his.
Seungkwan’s.
He breathed for a few seconds to calm his racing heart, his treacherous heart that told him it should be him. Him first, the one to provide the pack and his Alpha their first pup.
Jeonghan prided himself on loving his mates, his pack. On doing anything for them.
But he knew himself. How he wasn't the endless well of compassion and selflessness that Seungcheol was.
He tried, he learned, he made mistakes.
Something twisted in him at the idea of not being the first one to carry.
Still, his worry for Seungkwan overshadowed the idea.
“I'm sorry,” Seungkwan mumbled. “You invited me to go out, and I just dropped this on you. I know you wanted to talk about something.”
Jeonghan let him go, but kept one hand linked with his.
It felt wrong to say it. The true reason why he had wanted to go out.
“Well,” he said. And then stopped.
“Hyung?”
Jeonghan pulled at one strand of hair, blond lock twisted around a finger.
“I have the opposite of your problem in a way,” he said slowly, meeting his eyes, “I've been thinking…”
If he spoke out loud, he would make it real. Irreversible.
“No,” Seungkwan whispered, clutching his chest, “no. Hyung. Oh. You… you're trying…? You want a baby?”
“I'm not trying. We are not. But,” he blinked a few times, not knowing why he felt like crying. “Kwannie… I want a baby. A pup, with Seungcheol.”
As if someone had removed their foot from his chest, Jeonghan breathed deeply, a weight lifting from him.
This time, when Seungkwan burst into tears again, he knew it wasn't about his own worry.
“Oh, Seungcheol must be so excited! I know I am, I will be their favorite uncle,” Seungkwan beamed like he hadn't been crying his eyes out.
Jeonghan swallowed.
“Wait. Stop. He… doesn't want a baby?” Horror bled through his voice.
“It's not that. Well, I don't know,” his voice cracked. “He doesn't know. I haven't told him.”
Seungkwan straightened. “Please, he's obsessed with you! He would give you anything!”
“But us, Seventeen,” Jeonghan didn't plan to spill it like this, cars zooming past them, people walking by, “a baby… a baby could ruin everything.”
Seungkwan squeezed his hand.
“Or it could make everything wonderful,” he said simply. “It could make you happier, and Seungcheol, and all of us.”
Jeonghan wiped his eyes with the back of his free hand.
“I want it,” he whispered. He cleared his throat. “I want it,” he said more harshly.
He met Seungkwan’s eyes.
“But you come first now,” he continued, relieved he had let someone get a glimpse of his thoughts. “And then we can talk about this… I will talk to Seungcheol. Eventually.”
His dongsaeng nudged at his neck with his nose, scenting him for a second until Jeonghan's breathing eased. The scent of tangerines was mild, sweet, and comforting.
“Tell me first when you speak to him?”
“I promise,” Jeonghan smiled, “let's go. I wanna see if I become an uncle first.”
The reusable shopping bag banged against his leg as he approached their front door, hand already up to enter the code.
“Straight to my bathroom,” Seungkwan whispered, carrying their half-empty iced americano cups and a slice of chocolate cake; the treat they had decided to buy after their meltdown and the pharmacy visit.
Jeonghan nodded as the lock beeped.
When he pushed the door open, he found silence. Only a handful of shoes that someone should've put in their respective rack, sunglasses that were probably Mingyu's, a totebag that Jeonghan himself had forgotten to put away.
“All clear,” he whispered, as they tiptoed in.
The bag shifted in his hands, the packages of chips and drinks they had bought to hide the pregnancy tests amongst them, crinkling as they advanced.
The living room was empty, and Seungkwan stopped for a moment to deposit the cups on the kitchen counter.
“Hurry, before…”
“Did you bring snacks?” Soonyoung asked.
Seungkwan shrieked.
Soonyoung shrieked too, out of reflex.
Jeonghan clutched the bag to his chest.
“No, we didn't,” a nervous giggle escaped from him.
“Where did you come from?” Seungkwan touched his chest, eyes darting from him to the bag.
“I live here…?”
Somewhere in the hallway, a door opened.
Soonyoung looked unimpressed.
“I know you have snacks there.”
“Why is Seungkwan screaming?” Hansol asked, appearing behind them, tablet in hand, headphones around his neck, as if he stopped whatever he had been playing. “Are you okay?”
Seungkwan paled.
Something shifted in Hansol's face. A hint of hurt, uncertainty.
“We are okay,” Jeonghan took a step towards Seungkwan, as if he could shield him from view with his own body. “And you're right. We got snacks. But it's for a very…very important Omega thing we are doing.”
Hansol blinked. Soonyoung scoffed.
“You said our secondary genders can't be used as an excuse! So why now…”
He felt the air shift, the presence filling up the hallway before he even saw him. The earth stilling as footsteps approached.
Jeonghan took a step back, bag clutched tightly against him, and walked right into a pair of strong arms.
His shoulders loosened as he breathed; sandalwood and cherries embracing him.
“What's happening?” Seungcheol asked, one hand settling in Jeonghan’s hip.
His voice was calm, steady.
His bleary eyes -clearly half awake— surveyed the scene, reading Seungkwan’s hunched body, Soonyoung’s crossed arms.
“Nothing,” Jeonghan looked up at him, nudging at his chin with his nose.
Even sleepy, and with short dark hair mussed, power radiated from Seungcheol’s. Always had, from the beginning.
Power not to control or dominate. But to lean into.
“Okay,” Seungcheol kissed him on the cheek, and plucked the bag from his hands, faster than anyone.
He held it out, and Seungkwan snatched it, disappearing down the hallway before anyone could blink.
“He just had to share,” Soonyoung rolled his eyes, as Hansol looked at the spot where Seungkwan had been standing in silence.
“How did you know it was his?” Jeonghan melted into his chest, leaning against him as Seungcheol removed his bucket hat, patting down the wild long strands.
“I know,” Seungcheol replied, as if it was obvious. His eyes softened. “He needs you.”
Jeonghan didn't feel the need, but he never doubted what Seungcheol felt through their bonds.
He hesitated in his arms, nudging further into his neck. The scent of sleepiness, of clean laundry, of a centered and strong Alpha that was wholly his, tugged at him to stay.
“I don't want to see them make out,” Hansol mumbled, and Soonyoung agreed, walking away and leaving them alone.
Seungcheol’s hand found his hip, his nose brushing Jeonghan’s neck.
Something in him settled at the action.
“Were you… crying before?” Seungcheol asked carefully, his big hands cupping Jeonghan’s face. “I can smell the salt of your tears.”
“And that's not creepy at all,” Jeonghan huffed.
“And,” Seungcheol continued, “I felt Seungkwan earlier. A flash of… something.”
Jeonghan swallowed. The warmth in Seungcheol’s eyes was inviting, safe, compelling him to open up, to spill everything.
“Seungkwan had a scare this morning,” he replied carefully, letting his mate caress his cheek as he closed his eyes for a second.
“A scare?”
“The Omega sort of scare,” Jeonghan finished.
The moment the thought landed in him, Seungcheol’s shoulders went rigid, his eyes flickering to Seungkwan’s closed door.
“But I have it. I'm figuring it out with him,” he placed his hand on Seungcheol’s wrist.
He took a step out of his arms, but Seungcheol held onto his hand.
“He needs me, right? You said—”
“Jeonghan,” Seungcheol said. “If he is pregnant…”
“Don't say it,” he swatted a hand, pretending to struggle to escape from the hold. “We don't know. He doesn't want anyone to know yet.”
“Look at me.”
Jeonghan lifted his eyes, not knowing when he had glued them to the carpet.
“Is the idea of a baby upsetting to you?” Seungcheol asked carefully, caressing the wrist he was holding.
Jeonghan almost laughed.
“No,” the opposite. His heart thudded, and he made sure he wasn't sending anything through their bond before asking. “Do you? A baby. Upsetting.”
He couldn't even speak.
“No,” the reply was quick, firm. Seungcheol tilted his head in contemplation. “But…”
Jeonghan used what little strength he had to pull at him until Seungcheol was standing with his arms raised, eyes wide.
He didn’t want to hear it. Not that a baby is cute, but. But as a group.
But we can’t.
“He needs me,” Jeonghan hurried as he approached Seungkwan’s door. “I’ll tell you later.”
The presence of Seungcheol behind him was solid, unmoving. Jeonghan stopped with his hand on the wood, breathing deeply.
He wanted to collapse in his arms and tell him. He wanted not to have to do this, not with Seungkwan, not now.
He froze in the hallway, not knocking, not entering.
“Hannie?” Seungcheol asked in a whisper.
He looked back, and found Seungcheol in the same spot, plush lips formed in a half pout. The line of his brow was already in a frown.
Jeonghan found himself quickly walking back towards him, winding his arms around his chest as he kissed him.
Seungcheol melted into the kiss as if he had been the one on edge all morning, his mouth moving tenderly against his.
“I’ll go straight to you after,” Jeonghan whispered against his lips, a promise, a reassurance.
And this time, when he separated, he did it with a spring in his step.
Seungkwan’s room was an explosion of throw blankets, skincare products, and plants. The sun streaking through the windows felt warm against his arm as he walked past it towards the bathroom, despite the air conditioner blasting.
“What took you so long,” Seungkwan hissed. He had laid out five pregnancy tests on the edge of the sink. “I'm going to faint.”
“You're not,” Jeonghan reassured him. “Let's do this.”
They waited side by side, staring into each other's eyes as the timer on Seungkwan’s phone did its job.
With each passing second, the grip on Jeonghan’s hand went tighter and tighter.
“Breathe,” Jeonghan told him, lowering himself until he was sitting on the cool tiles. Over a minute had passed.
Seungkwan choked on silent sobs, and when the timer went off, he flinched, elbowing his phone into the tub.
Jeonghan stopped it, heart pounding.
“You look,” Seungkwan whispered.
“I can do two, and you do the other three,” Jeonghan freed his hand, flexing it a couple of times and grabbing the edge of the two tests close to him.
He didn't want to look. He wanted to. He had to know.
With shaking hands, Seungkwan imitated him, whining softly.
“One,” Jeonghan said.
“Two,” Seungkwan said.
“Three,” they said at the same time.
Jeonghan looked down. The two tests he held had the same words.
NOT PREGNANT.
Seungkwan choked on his own saliva and slumped forward, tests dropping from his hands and clattering to the ground.
“Oh God, hyung, oh God.”
Jeonghan let out a shaky breath, hugging him tight. Two of the tests that had been dropped had the same words, and the last one only contained one pink line.
Negative.
“Kwan-ah,” Jeonghan let the younger Omega sob in his arms, the tears a mix of relief. Sadness.
He drew him tighter, letting him find the release through his tears.
The bubble in his chest exploded. The relief traveled to his fingertips.
He hadn’t failed. He wasn’t second or third. Nobody was pregnant.
Jeonghan hid his nose under Seungkwan’s bangs, nosing at his forehead to steady himself, to fight the self-hatred that threatened to attack him.
“I’m glad I’m not pregnant,” Seungkwan whispered.
“You know,” Jeonghan said, softly, almost a confession, “I’m glad you’re not too.”
For a moment, there was silence, the two of them stretched out in the bathroom.
Seungkwan looked up at him.
“You…” he hesitated.
“What?” Jeonghan asked. He wondered if he had spilled something through his scent, unintentionally.
But Seungkwan shook his head and rolled away, crouching and offering a hand to him to help him up.
Jeonghan took it, collecting the tests in one hand.
“Next time,” Seungkwan said suddenly, as they left the bathroom, “we will be doing yours. And yours will be positive.”
Something in the way he said it made him smile. The hope of it, the fierceness.
“You’ll see,” Seungkwan nodded. “Some people are born to be parents. And you and Seungcheol are those people.”
The promise curled around his heart, and Jeonghan smiled.