Chapter Text
“I did find it weird, the way Hyunjin and Jisung talked about you.” Jeongin drops on the couch, eyes fixing the black screen of the TV. “Evel’s innocent and shy bandmate.” He lets out a scoff and throws a look above his shoulder to his childhood friend. He’s standing by the entrance of the living room, an annoyed expression deforming his gentle traits.“Name’s Noah. He was shaking in fear. Poor thing, they said.” He quotes with a mocking voice. “What a joke, isn’t it? The oh so feared Noah, reduced to a mere whimpering human.”
Noah breathes out a laugh that doesn’t quite manage to shake the timber of his voice like it should have. He sighs and walk up to the kitchen adjacent to the living room. He pulls out two mugs and turns on the coffee machine. “People change, you know.”
Jeongin shakes his head as he watches him move around with familiarity. “You don’t.” He affirms, as a matter of fact. “You think changing is for hypocrites. For dishonest and disloyal bastards.” He stares at him and although he doesn’t turn to meet his eyes, his arms halt mid-action. “You’re not like that.”
Noah places a capsule in the Nespresso machine and presses his index against the power button. “You know this industry better than I do.” He leaves the vibrating noise behind and spin to offer him a side smirk. “They like the weak ones. The victims. The vulnerable and the oh so poor miserable, mistreated souls.” He tilts his head, mockingly so. “It flatters their ego. It makes them think that they have power over you. That you depend on them because they saved you.” Mischief like Jeongin knows it so well appears in his eyes like red veils of a theater dropping to the ground in a pile of dust. “And they like that.”
Jeongin scoffs in disdain and looks away. “So what?” He throws him a glance. “Is playing the Omega working well?”
“It payed off. The spotlight’s all mine now.” Noah shrugs. “Evel’s a wanted man, and my two other bandmates have already signed their termination contract. They don’t even have a name for themselves anymore.” He leans in, as though to show Jeongin the madness swinging in his irises. “The only one left standing is the courageous Noah who stood up against his bully to protect THE Hwang Hyujin and Han Jisung.” A wicked smile stretches his lips. “I’d like to thank you for that. It’s all thanks to the recording your group released.”
Jeongin bits his tongue so that he doesn’t stand up this instant and slaughter that smile off his face. He zones out somewhere between an old armchair and old curtains, vision blurred over. “I wonder what they will say when they find out that your brother is none other than the wanted criminal Evel.” He turns to face him. “Or should I call him Leve? They’ll probably want your head on a stick too.”
Noah’s smile drops. A beat of silence washes over them before he rasps out, “You wouldn’t dare.”
“You know, I didn’t recognize him at first.” Jeongin’s eyes darkens. “It’s crazy what a few years and a new hair dye could do to a person. A new name, and he was unrecognizable.” Euphoria claws at his lungs when Noah’s scared scent starts to fill the room like gaz. “But again, I only saw him through pictures a handful of times.” Jeongin stands and walks up to Noah who only challenges him with a glare. “With the way you spoke of him back then, it’s a surprise that you agreed to be in the same group as him.”
Noah stares at Jeongin taking his filled mug. The second cup remains hollow. “You’d be surprised what I’d do for some money and fame.” He takes in a subtle sharp breath while he tries to collect himself. “The deal was to keep our brotherhood a secret, and in exchange, I’ll lay low and have his back.” He bitterly admits. “It didn’t matter. I knew he’d fuck up eventually.”
Jeongin leans his back against the counter, arms crossed, and coffee secured within his palm. “I’ll offer you a better deal, since you seem to like them so much.” He points his finger at him. “You hand over Evel to us, and I’ll keep it a secret that you’re related and the accomplice of an attempt murderer.”
Noah straightens up as anger flares in his eyes. “I have nothing to do with what he did to that alpha of yours.”
Jeongin takes a threatening step toward him. “Oh yeah?” He nearly growls in his face. “You have nothing to do with the fact that he miraculously knew that me and my members are werewolves, do you?” He digs his finger against his chest as though it were a pointed knife. “He targeted Jisung because he knew we were werewolves. He got to Chan Hyung and tore us apart because he knew our secret. Because you told him.”
They stare at each other for a second that stretches into thousands before Noah guilty looks away. “It was a shot in the dark.” He admits. “The only thing that would make you lie about who you truly are is if other people made you do it.” He sighs. “JYPE wouldn’t ask you to hide it; they like to brag about their werewolves, especially given that Stray Kids seamlessly didn’t have any. Which meant, that someone within your group asked you to lie.” A hooded look appears over his eyes. He looks almost sad, almost haunted. “The rest was a guessing game; if there’s one hidden rat, there must be another.”
Jeongin steps away from him. He walks out into the space connecting the two rooms and takes in a shuddered breath to keep his rage within. “I would have never done that to you.” He turns to show him an ounce of the pain his betrayal has caused him. “I would have never stabbed you in the back like that.”
“I didn’t- I didn’t know.” Noah’s mask falls and for a second, he appears genuinely remorseful. “I didn’t know that he’d do any of that. I had no idea of this revenge plan of his, and I took part of none of it.” He takes a step toward Jeongin, as though to beg. “You know that he grew up with dad in Australia.” He points at himself. “I grew up here, right beside you. The only thing that links me to that monster is blood cells.” He tilts his head to look into Jeongin’s eyes. “I have nothing against Bang Chan or his mother. I didn’t even know the woman until you told me about her.”
There’s a moment of silence that hangs above Jeongin’s head like an axe. His breathing is shallow and he’s dizzy. He can hear blood rushing through his veins and his heart hammering in his ears. He can hear Noah’s next words, he can feel them, before he even parts his lips.
“I was surprised when I heard that you debuted with him.” Noah says, almost gently, barely above a whisper with a voice that has lost all fights in it. “After all, your sister died because of—”
Jeongin abruptly turns around before he violently grabs Noah’s collar. He lets his claws threateningly kiss his neck, just as fury rages inside him like a tornado. For a moment, it feels like he’s breathing hot and scorching flames. “My sister died because she was terminally ill.” He greets under his breath in the semblance of a low growl. “I won’t let you, or anyone, use her in your pathetic revenge.”
Noah raises both of his hands on either side of his obsidian hair. “Your call.”
Jeongin glares down at him for a long heartbeat. He eventually pushes him back and let go. “I’ll give you twenty-four hours to hand Leve to the cops.” He orders. “If his name is not all-over national news then, yours will be.” He promises. “And believe him, it won’t be pretty.”
He hits his shoulder with his as he storms past him. He has to stop himself from running to the door. His chest is burning and aching and it’s getting impossibly hard to let air in. He wants to scream and cry and throw breakable objects across the room.
His hand is on the handle and he’s about to run out and forget this house and its occupant ever existed when Noah’s voice stops him. “One last question.” He calls. He’s silent for a while. Hesitant. “Why didn’t you tell your bandmates about me?” Jeongin remains still as his eyes stares into the streetlight across the road, beyond the gate. A wave of bravado hits Noah’s chest as he adds, “Because if you’re here, in the middle of the night, alone, with no Lee Know holding a knife under my throat, it necessary means that you lied to them, didn’t you?” He humourlessly snickers. “Again.” His amusement is loud within his words. “Old habits are hard to shake off, aren’t they?”
Jeongin takes a moment to answer. “There are things better off left unsaid.” He throws a glance above his shoulder. “Same goes with people.”
---
“I know that you lied.”
Jeongin almost breaks his neck by snapping his head toward Hyunjin. He tries to collect himself when he catches his mistake, tries to play it off and lets out a laugh that doesn’t sound too nervous. “What?”
Hyunjin doesn’t turn to face him. He stays still on the couch they’re both slumped on. His eyes remain fixed on the rerun news of this morning, as though he hadn’t seen it a hundred time already. Evel’s shocked expression appears on the screen again, and so does his pathetic rat hole whose being swarmed by special forces. They slam him to the ground, cuff him forcefully, and drags him to the nearest car like he was nothing but a dirty rag doll. The video cuts off, but behind the woman who retells the previous night’s events, the image of the black roses left on Evel’s porch remain still.
“Jung Leve, that goes by the stage name Evel, has been captured by the police last night at eleven pm thanks to an anonymous source.” She urgently informs. “Evel is accused of attempted murder, harassment, assault, forced submission toward two werewolves, and a handful of serious charges. He will be detained and will be waiting for his trial.”Hyunjin grabs the remote and turns down the volume. The reporter keeps vehemently speaking, refusing to be silenced. “JYP entertainments lawyers, who are in charge of the plaintiff Bang Chan, Hwang Hyunjin and Han Jisung from the worldwide known k-pop group Staray Kids, affirm that Evel won’t be able to get away from a sentence of at least 20 years.”
“They mispronounced our name again.” Jeongin tiredly voices with eyes lost on the screen.
It’s Hyunjin’s turn to look his way. “You didn’t have a vocal lesson two days ago. You lied to Channi Hyung.”
Jeongin’s eyes become stern. He meets Hyunjin’s calculating ones. “I did.”
“You didn’t.” Hyunjin argues with a tone that lets on that he knows what he is talking about. “You don’t have vocal lesson on Thursdays. Yeji does. Yours are on Fridays.”
Jeongin bits his tongue in a failed attempt to keep his irritation at bay. “We switched days. I wanted a day off so that we’ll have time to pack our stuff and move back to our dorms.” The lie comes easy on his tongue; slipping through like honey.
“You did not.” Hyunjin insists. “She facetimed me during her lesson to ask how we were doing.” He narrows his eyes at him, as though it’d be enough to see right through him. “She asked about you.”
Jeongin scoffs. He feels cornered. His wolf thrashes inside him at the unpleasant feeling and the rightful accusations. He should have come up with a better lie. He should had made sure Hyunjin was indeed sleeping when he lied to Chan. Damn Hyunjin and his amazing memory.
“I’m not gonna ask you why you lied, or where you were.” Hyunjin reluctantly confesses. “I trust you.” And maybe that’s what loving someone is; respecting their lies. Trusting that there’s a bigger picture. “Thank you though,” he adds as he stares at the black roses on the screen. His chin gestures to them, and Jeongin is left to wonder if he’s talking about them or about Evel’s arrest. “For this.”
Jeongin is saved from having to answer with the brutal opening of the front door. It slams against the wall just as Jeongin and Hyunjin snap around.
“Those detectives can go to HELL!” Chan curses as he storms through the door and throws his shoes aside and his bag against the wall. Minho and Changbin hurriedly follows after him, almost in panic. “Along with the cops, and those damn lawyers. And management too! Are they being paid to make my life miserable? Evel or Leve or whatever his name is can also rot for all I care.” He drops himself on the couch in between Hyunjin and Jeongin who had stood up and glares at the muted news. “I hate everything. I HATE IT!”
Jeongin and Hyunjin exchanges a look before carefully lowering themselves back on the couch, on either side of their alpha.
“Did something happen?” Jisung cautiously asks as he steps out of his room and slides his earphones off.
“Why do they have to know everything anyway? Why do I need to retell every single detail? Didn’t they say a camera captured the whole thing? Do they have some sick, twisted, pleasure in forcing me to relive it all again and again?” Chan angrily rants. The veins in his neck are pulled tight and Jeongin can hear his heart furiously beat. He sees in the corner of his eye Felix and Seungmin enter the dorm and close the door behind them.
Minho sits on the armchair and fixates Chan with compassionate eyes. Jeongin sees, in his eyes alone, that there’s a lot of rational answers he could give to his leader’s angry rambles. They all could give him realistic retorts, but that’s not what Chan needs. Chan needs someone to listen and tell him that he is right in whatever he’s saying and feeling, even if he isn’t.
“I didn’t even tell you what happened that night!” He continues to say. “You, the most important people in my miserable life! Who do they think they are to ask me every detail over and over again? We filmed my testimony at least 10 damn times!”
“At least you don’t have to go to court.” Changbin tries to reassure. “It’s over.”
Chan doesn’t say anything to that, but his shoulders deflate. “Do any of you want to go?”
Minho hesitates but he lifts his eyes to his leader. “I want to go.” He declares as though he were asking Chan’s permission. “I’ll be more at ease if I’m there with the lawyers. I want to make sure that they don’t miss or forget anything.”
“I also want to go!” Hyunjin joins in. “I want to be there to watch him rot in prison for the rest of his miserable life.”
There’s a moment of silence as Chan recoils in himself. He wishes he could make himself small enough to squeeze the pain out of his body. He feels like a big misplaced object, feeling too much, being too much. “I wish this was all just some sick and twisted novel.” He confesses, eyes fixed on the lower table in front of him. “I wish locking Evel and making him pay would be enough to make it all stop.” He bits his lips in a desperate attempt to keep the tears at bay. “But it isn’t. I’m still hurting. You are all still hurting. W-We all have to keep dealing with my bloody hell addiction and my withdrawal and the nightmares and the PTSD a-and the trust issues and these MOOD SWINGS!”
In a sudden surge of raw, burning, rage, Chan kicks the table with his foot. It tumbles backward in the hope to catch itself before it hits the ground in a loud thud. Its glassed top ends up on the floor in thousands of shards who scatters all around the living room. They all jump back, but Chan almost flies out of his skin. He hadn’t expected the table to actually fall. He had kicked it a handful of times in the past, but he had never been strong enough to make it fall, let alone break. His ears ring loudly in protest before his hands even start shaking.
“It’s okay.” Minho hurriedly says while standing up and rushing to the closest broom. “It’s okay. Everyone’s okay. It’s fine.”
Chan stays frozen in shock, shaking slightly as though a cold breeze has breached through the window. He only really snaps out of it when Hyunjin, who’s still sitting on his left, wraps a cautious arm around his shoulders. “Are you okay?” He asks as if Chan wasn’t the one who just broke a whole ass table.
“I-I’m-” He stutters as he looks at the shards and at Minho, Seungmin and Jeongin who carefully swipe them off the ground. His eyes finally land on Hyunjin’s worried ones and remain there. “I’m s-sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean-”
Changbin lowers himself on his other side and rest a gentle hand on his shoulder. “We know you didn’t.” He reassures. “It was an accident. Happens to the best of us.”
“I broke a TV once when I had just turned.” Minho explains while throwing the glass into the trash bin Felix holds up for him. “Another time, I made a glass break just by holding into it.”
“It’s hard to control your strength when you just turned.” Jisung patiently explains from the armchair, eyes dug deep into his leader’s. “It’s a surprise you didn’t break anything sooner.”
Chan looks at the table, still rolled on its side on the floor, and he stares and stares and staresuntil he’s glaring. Then his face cracks like a miserable breaking egg and he finds himself loudly, full blown sobbing into his hands. His doctor had made him read too much about withdrawal symptoms for him to really blame it on his newly gained strength. He doesn’t want to deal with a mood that swings as brutally as the pushed swing of a kid’s park. He doesn’t want to be constantly irritable. He doesn’t want to be depressed more than he already is nor does he fancy anxiety and aches and exhaustion and the recurring insomnia and the craving, the deep, painful, crave. He’s tired. He’s just sotired.
“Why me?” He cries as he pulls away from hands drowned by snort and tears. Changbin rubs his back and Hyunjin pushes hair out of his face but Chan only hurts. “Why do I have to suffer? Why do I have to endure any of this when he did this? When my damn mother was the one who took all those decisions a fucking decade ago?”
His eyes find Felix’s face and he’s in so much pain, so much torment, that he wishes he could just apologize again and it’ll be enough. He sees himself in his quivering eyes. He sees two boys, two kids, scared, tired, sick from something neither of them asked for. He sees them, on either side of the edge of a forest, staring into each other’s eyes and wishing the other could ease the throbbing pain. They were both so young, so lonely within their aching hearts, one terminally ill boy and one abandoned wild pup. A forgotten memory, from a past he doesn’t think he wants to recall.
Chan pulls his eyes away from Felix’s because admitting that neither of them changed much from that time hurts more than the pain itself.
He turns to Changbin and he falls apart in the crook of his neck and the warmness of his embrace.
---
“What did management say?” Jisung’s voice whispers, barely above a breath.
Changbin sighs before he dares say anything. “They will do their best to stretch our hiatus for as long as possible. At least until the trial is mostly dealt with.”
“That could take years though, doesn’t it?” Jisung worries somewhere in the kitchen in between a washed plate and a placed cup. “I’m exhausted just thinking that this whole thing could stretch on for another two to five years.”
“We don’t care how long it’ll take.” Hyunjin’s voice sounds irritated from the living room, on the other side of Chan’s closed bedroom door. “That monster is not getting out of jail either way. They have enough proof to deem him as a threat and danger to society.”
Footsteps echoes against the walls like muttered words in a theater. “Hyunjin’s right.” Minho’s voice says, ever so quietly. “As long as he’s locked away, we don’t have to worry.”
“So?” Jeongin silently wonders. “Our hiatus? How long can we hope for?”
“Two to three more months at most.” Seungmin informs. “The company wants at least two more comebacks before our contracts ends.”
There’s a beat of stretched silence.
“It’s good!” Felix tries to enthusiastically say. “Two months is good. It’a lot. We can get back on our feet before then.”
Some mutters word of agreements, others half-heartedly cheer. It’s not really convincing, but it’s the most optimistic they’ve been in a while. It’s a shy start, but one, nevertheless.
“Why are you four still here anyway?” Changbin jokingly asks. “Don’t have another dorm to entertain?”
Jeongin snickers. “Why don’t you try go spend time elsewhere?” He fires. “Let’s see how you do away from the pack in times like these.”
“No one’s going anywhere they don’t want to go to.” Minho affirms to quickly dissipate the bickering.
“We’re going through a hard time, all in our own ways.” Seungmin states. “And so it’s totally normal for our instincts to demand to stay close to the pack.”
“It’s weirdly appeasing.” Hyunjin whispers. “To be together. Even if this dorm is quite clamped for eight people.”
Changbin shuffle closer somewhere. “It is.” He admits. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to make you feel unwelcomed.”
“It’s okay.” Jeongin quietly and tiredly reassures. His voice sound muffled, as though it’s being hidden within someone’s arms. “I shouldn’t have been that harsh. I know you were just teasing.”
“Let’s sleep together tonight.”
“No way in hell.”
His door softly cracks open between the whispered chatters and the quietened laughs. Four paws trots across the floor. Chan’s eyes flutter ever so slowly. He scoots over to let the freckled wolf slither beside him on the bed. Tightly, as though scared that he’ll disappear, he brings him close to a breathtaking hug. He hides his face in the wolf’s neck, within the white and golden fur and drift back to a heavy sleep.
He’s coddled by the unspoken promise that his pack will remain at an arm reach the next time he’ll open his eyes, and hopefully, the time after that too.
---
Time has flood by since the last time Chan broke their living room table.
Changbin had quickly taken upon himself to replace it with an identical one, in a hopeful attempt to make them all forget that the unpleasant incident ever occured. Him and Minho have been going far and beyond for him. Chan knows they are still eaten raw by terrible remorse for causing his addiction. Chan wants to tell them that it goes far deeper than them, that he’s unwell because of a mess of intertwined strings that can’t be possibly be blamed just on two people’s single mistakes. And he does tell them that, he does try to reassure them, but it feels like he’s only making it worse because ‘We should be the one comforting you,’ Changbin would say.
The worst of it all, is that sometimes, Chan does blame them. Sometimes, when the craving devours him from the inside and the anger burn him like a red iron, Chan does scream at them, does say horrible things to them. And even if he profoundly apologizes later on, he’s brought to wonder if they aren’t constantly and repeatedly drowning in each other’s guilt and recurrent apologizes. Maybe it’s that realization, and a whole lot of talking, that started making things hurt less for all three of them.
But Chan keeps hurting all the same, for all kind of reasons, and it takes a while to accept that this time around, he’s hurting because he’s healing; just like withdrawal is to addiction, just like alcohol is to an open wound or surgery to an injury.
Somewhere along the line, they all do come to term, his members more than Chan himself, that they were part of the problem, and not the problem in itself. And maybe that does help, in some kind of way.
Felix sits in front of him, in a round table on the side wall of an ice cream shop. He’s looking down absently and yet anxiously, at his fingers. Chan has to swallow down the voice that tells him that maybe asking to privately talk with him wasn’t that brilliant of an idea. Ignoring the issue at hand had worked so far, and today was supposed to be a good day. They had finally taken upon Jeongin’s offer to go for a shopping trip, late into the night when it’d be too dark for anyone’s eyes to really linger on any of them. Some had, but only kind and warm words have been exchanged. They had separated into small groups, because they all wanted to go to different places, and Chan had chosen, perhaps inadequately, that moment to pull Felix aside.
“I liked her; you know?” He ends up saying, taking Chan by surprise. He hadn’t expected him to talk about it first and be so straightforward about it. Maybe, just maybe, Felix too had been waiting to talk to him about it. “I still do.” He says before he adds, “Even if I might be the only one that feel this way.”
Chan opens his mouth to say something, but it stays hanging. How could he tell Felix that he’s feeling that way because his judgement is clouded by the fact that she got him out of the wild?
“I know what you’re thinking.” Felix admits as he lifts a hesitant glance to his alpha. “You think I’m biased. You think that I’m incapable of thinking rationally because she saved me.”
Chan takes a sharp breath in. “Lix. It’s perfectly understandable that—”
“Does how I feel or what I have to say not matter?”He looks far into his Hyung’s eyes and seem to beg. “Does it really mean nothing?”
Chan quickly shakes his head as he reaches for Felix’s hands across the table to hold them. “Tell me.” His voice wobbles unsteadily. “Tell me who she was to you.”
Felix tilts his head and pursues his lips as though it’d be enough to keep the tears inside. “She was everything to me Hyung.” He whimpers. “She was a mother. A mentor. A sister. A friend. She was the first kind human who ever approached me. Sh-She taught me how to speak. How to properly care for myself. How to be human.” His chest caves within itself like a deflating balloon. “People like to carelessly throw words around and accuse her of grooming me, but no one gave a damn about me when I was out there in the forest, raised by wolves like a sick twisted version of Tarzan.”
It feels like a stab right in the heart. Chan opens his mouth to say something, anything, but Felix keeps talking like he’s not really there. Like neither of them is really there. “But when it became convenient to them, then suddenly, she’s the monster.” He spits as he glares into the wooden table. “It didn’t matter that I wanted to give you some stupid stem cells. It didn’t matter that I wanted to save you. No one cared about what I said or how I felt.”
Chan hears it, and he feels it: the frustration that sizes Felix’s throat from being silenced for so long. Chan doesn’t think that his own feelings toward his mother will ever change. He can’t bring himself to believe that she didn’t seek for Felix only to manipulate and guilt trip him into donating his cells. He doesn’t think that he’ll ever be able to forgive her.
But Felix doesn’t need to be told any of that. Felix needs to be heard and understood. He needs someone that won’t make him feel like he’d been a puppet doll under someone’s hands. He needs someone to believe him when he says that those past choices were his. Chan will do that for him, and far more, because sometimes, the truth hurts more than lies. Sometimes, that pain isn’t worth it.
“Is that why you didn’t tell me?” Chan asks as gently as he can. “Because you didn’t want her to be hated by me too?”
Felix’s lips quivers, and it’s an answer of its own. “It felt like my story. My secret, and no one else. I thought for so long that I had every right over it.” He tentatively lifts his eyes to his. “I blame myself, from times to times, for not being strong enough to take that secret to my grave.” He takes a breath in that makes him shiver before he looks down at their intertwined fingers. “What good did it do to you to know? I just made you hate her and caused you more misplaced guilt.”
Chan shakes his head and leans over the table to properly address his words. “Thank you for being so brave. Back then, and today too. You saved me not once, but twice.” He swallows heavily. “If it weren’t for Minho’s bite and your stem cells, I would have died.”
Felix shudders under his eyes, but Chan squeezes his fingers and insists. “Telling me was the right thing.” He says, because it’s a lie they both need to believe in.
——-
They’re sitting in a waiting room, several months after the incident that almost took Chan’s life.
It’s their first live performance since the last time Evel had come and flipped their lives over. Ironically enough, they are performing the same song, in the same outfits, in the same venue, on the same stage, like no time had ever flown by. Like everything had happened in the blink of an eye, through a feverish dream.
“Can we gather for a sec?” Chan calls his pack. They are scattered around the room, trying to killing time until they’re called on stage.
They approach instantly, without the need to be asked again or to raise his voice to get them to listen. They’d always been like that, Chan recalls. Everyone that had worked close enough with them had commented on how easily and quickly his members listen to him. They had just debuted, and it would suffice Chan to raise his hand to attract their attention. Jisung and Hyunjin would be loudly laughing on a live and it’d suffice a simple glance and a look to quieten them. They would be in an important schedule; whatever it’d be oversea or something usual in Korea and they’d naturally gravitate to him when the time’s right to receive information. Chan never even had to scold them or order them to listen to him. It’s not like they feared him; their obeisance had always come naturally. It’s something Chan had taken for granted. Something he never really had to stop and think about. Now, he does realize, to some degree, how much loved and respected he is to get seven wolves to follow him, once upon a time a human, without even having to ask.
“What’s up?” Jisung casually asks as he sits on the couch in the middle of the room. He’s nervous, and Chan wonders how he can so easily tell that with the younger’s scent blocked and seemingly relaxed expression.
Hyunjin drops himself beside Jisung and slumps his entire body against Changbin’s side. He seems to have accepted and come to term with Changbin’s and Minho’s mistakes. Chan knows they had hurt him a lot, on a personal level more than just because they hurt his leader. He doesn’t know if they talked it out, if words were necessary for them when their actions spoke louder, but he’s more at ease with the two older wolves. He laughs easily with them and he’s back to teasing and wrestling them unprovoked.
“Did someone mess up again?” Minho asks, arms folded against his chest in a mocking showcase of authority. “Who needs scolding?” He asks while glancing at Chan who sits in front of the low table, they usually have lunch on.
“Did Hyunjin skip his therapy session?” Seungmin nags, dropped side way on the armchair. “It’d be the second time this week alone.
“Hey!” Hyunjin makes a move to stand up but Changbin’s arm keeps him firmly seated. “Hyunjin didn’t miss shit!” He calls in third person. “I got complimented yesterday. She said I’m doing amazing and should be off soon.” He glances at Jisung. “You should check with the guy beside me.” He whispers.
Jisung frustratingly sighs. “Not my fault he’s horrible.” He whines in annoyance. “I think I might need a new therapist.”
“That will be arranged as soon as possible.” Chan promises while Minho comes to sit on the floor beside him. “We’re looking into others that might be of better help and experience in cases like yours and Hyune’s.”
It seems to ease the hidden frown on Jisung’s face. Chan doesn’t find himself really worried about them. They are doing better, in a fast pace, even if they do have random breakdowns and anger outburst when the scent of mint gets too close or someone outside the pack tries to impose their authority on them.
“How’s your appointments, Hyung?” Jeongin quietly asks in between the loud shatters of the staff navigating around them.
“Been okay.” Chan admits after a painful second. “Still on meds, but it’s finally starting to feel like they’re kicking in.” He takes a deep stuttered breath. “The- The craving is less there. It’s barely just an itch under the skin from times to times.”
Felix scoots closer to the edge of his seat. “Will you be able to shift with us this full moon?”
“Hopefully, yes.” Chan instantly responds like a programmed response.
The majority of werewolves like to shift during full moons in large restricted lands prepared just for the occasion. It’s similar to a huge camping party, a sort of festivity or holiday. People go with their pack, with families, friends or with their mates. There are organized hunts in the nearby forest, fighting competitions within makeshift rings, a large variety of food trucks, and numerous games.
Chan had never been to one, simply because humans aren’t allowed in, but he had seen plenty of videos, vlogs and lives about them. He never thought he’d actually get to attend, and it’s only when Minho had shyly and hesitantly brought up the subject that it became their pack’s latest favorite topic of discussion. It’s only much later on that Chan realizes that none of his members were able to join any of those gatherings for years now. Some, like him, Felix and Minho, never had the luxury to go to one.
They already purchased their tickets for this month’s full moon and had gone over all the paperwork with Division 1, but it’s still uncertain if Chan’s heart will be strong enough to allow him to shift. It wouldn’t prohibit him from attending, a lot of werewolves can’t shift due to health problems or their lineage, and Chan is sure he’ll enjoy the night all the same, but being able to shift with his pack would be different. It would be special.
“I talked with my doctor and she said that shifting twice or thrice a month shouldn’t cause any problems, especially on full moons.” He enthusiastically informs. He takes a shuddered breath and his shoulders slack after a second thought. “B-but it will probably be better if I don’t.” He adds while glaring down. “I don’t want to be a burden to any you. Given that I’m practically b-blind and everything.”
His members immediately start yelling in protest all at ounce. “Bullcrap!” Jeongin shouts the loudest, effectively attracting some stares toward him. He apologizes to the unwanted attention, then leans across the table from where he’s sitting by Changbin’s legs. “We’re ride or die Hyung. A crappy vision won’t come between us.”
“Besides, with some practice, you’ll be as comfortable with your vision as without it!” Felix promises. “It’s just a matter of time and getting used to it.”
“We’ll be with you the whole time either way Hyung.” Jisung assures. “Whatever you decide to shift or not.”
Hyunjin sits up. “I promise I won’t let Changbin Hyung leads you down a cliff.”
“Hey!” Changbin yells in protest while Minho loudly laughs. “You’re the one who can’t put one paw in front of the other!”
“If you feel unwell, for whatever reason, there always are paramedics on the location at alltime.” Seungmin informs.
Chan bits down the inside of his lips to supress a wide grin. “Thank you.” He gratefully whispers around a crack of his voice.
“Thank us once we bring you back home unharmed.” Minho affirms.
Chan takes a second to collect himself while his wolves keep chatting and bickering with one another. When he thinks he can breathe properly without all the unnecessary emotions, he pulls his black leathered suitcase and rests it on the table.
Its sight manages to silence all seven wolves. “This is the reason I gathered you here.” He solemnly informs while trying to swallow down a sheepish smile. He pulls the zipper and enters the code to unlock it. “I know that we’re still going over the paperwork to officially register us as a pack,” he opens the suitcase and lets it fall flat on the table so that the eight silver rings meticulously placed within a black foam are visible to all of his wolves, “but I thought I’d bring a small gift to celebrate.”
Jisung loudly gasps through a long sharp inhale while the rest remains in a shocked silence. Jeongin hides his widely opened month behind his hand as though to silence a muted scream.
“Is this what I think it is?” Changbin exclaims, eyes inspecting the rings as though he can’t quit believe what he’s seeing.
“NO WAY!” Seungmin shouts while dropping himself to the ground to get a better look.
Felix approaches a cautious hand toward them. “Are they pack rings?” He tilts his head to get a look on the golden inscription of the brand on the box.
“How did you get your hands on these?” Hyunjin asks in complete shock. He grabs the one closest to him and gently turns it in his fingers. A LEE MINHO is engraved on it. “People tear each other’s throats to get their hands on them. Waiting lists are months, even years long!”
“And you need to bring several proofs of your pack’s bond to even be allowed to dream of having a single pair.” Jisung adds.
Minho leans to look at the rings. “They are customized!”
Chan shyly breathes out a laugh. His heart pleasantly chirms inside his chest. “I pulled some strings here and there. Talked to some people, left and right.”
“Is this why you’ve been asking our ring size?” Jeongin exclaims while pointing at his alpha accusingly.
Minho accepts the ring Hyunjin hands him while everyone goes around to take theirs. He looks emotional, with his big glittering eyes that he repeatedly blinks. Chan’s attention shifts to Felix, who’s furiously whipping at his eyes and sniffling. It probably means more to some of them; this physical and tangible proof of belonging.
“I’ll go over the options I had included on the rings really quick.” Chan says as Minho stands up and comfortingly brings Felix to a side hug. The younger melts into his embrace but promises that he isn’t crying. “They are connected to an app where you can control all the things the ring can do.” He informs. “They all have geolocation, mainly for emergency reasons, but you can turn it off anytime. They vibrate and emanate colors when one of the pack members is too emotionally destressed or losing control. You will receive a notification and can look in your phones for which pack member needs assistance. You can manually call for the pack’s help by pressing three times on the lower side of the ring.”
“And we can turn any of those options off if we want to, right?” Jisung asks.
“Yes of course.” Chan reassures. “Those are there for security reasons when we’re out there having runs in the woods, traveling or just when we’re alone and we don’t feel safe. It’s not necessarily for everyday life.”
Changbin nods while looking down at his ring. “That’s good, because you’ll be getting a notification from my ring every five minutes during company’s meeting.” He jokes. “Way too many of those assholes pisses me off.”
“Every time Hyunjin’s will vibrate, I’ll know he’s crying over some movie or Kdrama again.” Seungmin teases to which he receives a pillow on the face.
Felix raises his ring proudly under the light. “Everyone will know we’re a pack!” He proudly and gleefully exclaims. “I can’t wait to show this off to everyone!”
They laugh and they joyfully scream, and they shake from barely contained excitement until they’re called to get ready. “Just enjoy.” Chan tells them before they get on stage, an easy smile on his lips and warmness blooming within his chest.
And when his brother Oliver calls and worries about how he can still trust them after all their lies, Chan simply smiles, a found look thrown at his pack who keep gushing to Ateez and Btob about how amazing their pack rings are. “I trust them to do what’s right to protect themselves and one another.” He hesitates before he adds, “And to protect me.”
The means to do that don’t really matter; be it lies or buried secrets.
After all, “Channi Hyung! Stop looking at us like that and get Minhyuk Hyung to give me back my ring!”, his wolves love him.