__________

‘Cause all of me

Loves all of you

Love your curves and all your edges

All your perfect imperfections

Give your all to me

I’ll give my all to you

You’re my end and my beginning

“All of Me” by John Legend

__________

After work, Daehyun ends up outside the house he grew up in. He moved out shortly after graduating college, his way of declaring to the world (and to himself) his adult-status. But anytime he would feel unhappy or burdened, he’d always find his way back home, seeking comfort in familiar surroundings much like a child does with his favorite blanket. Because he knows his mother is home alone at this hour and not expecting company, he rings the doorbell first, then uses his key to let himself in, calling out a greeting as he shuts the door.

He’s got his coat and boots off and slipping into a pair of house slippers when his mother rounds the corner, a huge smile gracing her face.

“Daehyun!” she exclaims as she pulls him into a tight hug full of affection. “I didn’t know you were coming by.” She releases him after one extra squeeze and does the total mom thing of looking him up and down, scanning to make sure her baby boy is healthy and well.

“Sorry, it was a last minute decision.” It’s true. The school day filled with thirty active second-graders provided a decent distraction, helping to keep his mind from straying too often to his wrist. But with work over, he didn’t want to return to his apartment and be left alone in silence with his thoughts. As for going over to—

“How is Yongguk?” his mother asks, naming the person whose name had been on the tip of his tongue and in the corner of his mind all day long.

“Yongguk is—” he stops, wondering again how he’s supposed to tell Yongguk but there is no answer he can find, “—he’s good, mom.” That’s true too. Yongguk had been good this morning when he left his place. Although it’d been late hours before Yongguk joined him in bed, the other man still managed to wake up long enough to kiss him good morning. He’d been bleary-eyed with his ramyun hair adorably bedhead messy and Daehyun had been tempted to crawl back under the covers and make it a great morning for both of them.

But after today’s events, how can anything be good again?

“I hope next time you’ll bring him over.”

Almost seven months have passed since he first met Yongguk, a week and a half after his twenty-eighth birthday.

His parents had met in their early teens. He remembers he’d been twelve when the boy down the street, a grade above him, had found his mate. That had been the start. As he got older, it had been harder not to feel envious as one by one the friends he’d grown up with found their partner. When he had been invited out, always the third- or fifth-wheel, he had to feign interest in the perfectly matched lives they now led. The worst perhaps was the pitying looks from well-meaning relatives, who would either tell him about a distant cousin’s friend of a friend who might be the one for him or they’d quote some proverb about the flower that bloomed in adversity.

None of it had been helpful, and he thought maybe he wasn’t meant to find anyone. He started to come to terms and accept that he would be an omega without an alpha. He already had years of dealing with his heat alone, and while exceedingly unpleasant and frustratingly drawn-out (an unmated omega’s heat could last a week or longer), he had managed thus far.

Then he met Yongguk and everything changed, falling into place like the Universe, until that moment, had been aimlessly spinning in circles just waiting to right itself. Everything his friends had said, what his parents spoke of, it felt exhilaratingly wonderful to viscerally understand what it meant to find the one you belonged to. To be part of that, until now, elusive club. November marked his third heat he spent in Yongguk’s arms, and after giving his willing consent, Yongguk marked him, distinctively and forever claiming him as his omega.

He had spoken to his parents about Yongguk, but it was only after becoming officially mated did he make formal introductions. Their dinner together, out and with Yongguk insisting on paying for everything, had gone exceptionally well, and now every time he speaks to his mother she asks after Yongguk and for them to visit together.

It’s something that had made him unbearably happy, knowing that his parents approved and liked his alpha, but now he worries he’ll disappoint them when they learn about the words on his wrist.

“Have you eaten yet?” His mother’s voice and question draw him from his pensive mood.

Shaking his head no, he answers, “I missed lunch.” And breakfast, but he doesn’t add that. The upheaval of his morning successfully wrecked his usual, voracious appetite. His right arm’s in front of him, partially crossed, and though he’s wearing long sleeves, his hand goes to cover his left wrist in an extra layer of defense. Daehyun knows it’s not the most natural pose and tries to make himself relax.

“You must have been really busy to skip lunch.” Her forehead creases in concern as she studies her firstborn, seeing now that he’s only pretending to be fine. Knowing her son well, that he’ll open up when he’s ready to, she focuses on what she can remedy the easiest. “You never miss an opportunity to eat.”

“I just know how to appreciate good food,” Daehyun says, following after his mother who makes her way to the kitchen. “And yours is the best.” At his words, his mother throws her head back in laughter and Daehyun’s lips curve upward. His mom is still the most beautiful woman in the world to him and always will be.

“My son, the sweet talker,” she croons and kisses his cheek. “I guess it’s a good thing I have everything I need to cook all your favorites.”

Food hadn’t sounded all that great to him seconds before, but at the thought of his mother’s home-cooking, his stomach becomes easily persuaded into thinking differently, grumbling accordingly.

“Have I told you lately that I love you best?” Daehyun asks, cracking a smile in his mom’s direction. She answers by a short chuckle and shake of her head, then she’s shuffling across the tiled floor to the kitchen pantry. Feeling his spirits lift for the first time, he hops onto the marbled white countertop next to the sink but far enough away from the stove to avoid any potential oil spatters. It’s a habit that started as a kid, and he never outgrew.

He enjoyed watching his mother move about the kitchen as she made dinner. They would talk and she’d ask about his school day and how he did on his history test. His favorite part was when she’d give him small bites of things to try, asking his opinion on seasoning and taste. He thought everything his mother made tasted wonderful so his assistance never provided much constructive feedback. Then as a teen, there had been a short period where he felt he was too cool to hang out with his mother and wouldn’t do it at all or only for a few minutes, long enough to grab a couple snacks and head out to hang with friends down the street. He’s sure his careless attitude during that time had hurt her, but she never mentioned it or made him feel guilty.

Looking back, he appreciates the time he spent with his mother even more, knowing she could have made dinner faster if he hadn’t been there interrupting her with questions and stories. She never made him feel unwelcome or unwanted though, and for that, he’s always grateful.

And as an adult now, he still talks about school, but instead of a student, he’s the educator.

He happily fills her in on his kids’ latest personal achievements, like starting to learn simple multiplication. For science class, he’s teaching them about Earth and the solar system.

While many of the boys are understandably fascinated with space stuff — ooh cool, rockets! and funny-looking astronaut suits — he’s more than proud that several girls are equally intrigued. He wants to be the kind of teacher who inspires his students, one who encourages them to believe in their dreams and not be deterred from fields that might be dominated by a particular gender. To further ignite their interest, he plans to take his class to Seoul National Science Museum’s planetarium. His enthusiasm for the upcoming field trip matches the kids’ levels, but thirty second-graders are still thirty second-graders which is why he’s immensely thankful to have three parental chaperones volunteering their assistance.

His mother works fast and efficiently while he talks, bustling back and forth between pantry and refrigerator and cupboards, asking questions and adding in her thoughts at appropriate moments. Then she catches him up on the latest daily drama she’s watching as well as her newfound hobby of learning to quilt. She complains with affection about his father being stubborn in his old age, resisting going in for his yearly checkup. He promises that he’ll try to sneak a subtle encouragement into their conversation during dinner.

Finishing a perfectly rolled kimbap, she slices it deftly and plates half for him. “A snack. It’ll still be a while for dinner.”

“Thank you.” He takes the plate from her with two hands, eating three pieces in quick succession.

His mom satisfied that he’s eating turns back to finish her task. “I’m making extra everything tonight, and I fully expect you to share with Yongguk. I don’t want to hear later that you ate it all before he had a chance to try any of it,” she lectures him but her tone conveys amusement.

“I’ll try not to.” His mother turns and gives him the look, the one that he’s certain all mothers perfect the second their child is old enough to misbehave. “Okay, I won’t,” he laughs, making a cute V sign next to his face. “Promise.”

It’s much later, after the sun’s gone down, that they settle into the living room.

The year before his mother insisted on buying new furniture, wanting a bit of change now that both her children had left the house. But because she knew how much his father loved the old leather recliner — it had honestly seen better days, one arm sunken in more than the other side, thanks to how often his sister would sit next to their dad and watch television with him that way — that he’s sitting in even now, she let him keep it which is why it’s the only piece of furniture that doesn’t quite match.

It had been nice to come home; it’d been needed, a gentle reprieve in the mess of his day. But now is the time to quite literally roll up his sleeve and come clean.

Taking a deep breath, he holds out his left arm for his parents to see.

“What am I supposed to do?”

*

He doesn’t spend every night at Yongguk’s and neither does Yongguk spend every night at his place. He knows many alphas and omegas move in together almost immediately, and he doesn’t see anything wrong with that. It’s expected, the normal if you were both of legal age.

He still has a year’s lease left though, plus his apartment is much closer to his school than Yongguk’s is. And silly as it may sound to some, considering they’re mated and bound together, moving in seems like a big step. He wants it, and he knows Yongguk wants it, but they’re also content to not rush things. Instead, they want to enjoy the stages of this new relationship without the pressures of checking off some imaginary timeline of when it’s appropriate to do this or that.

But now, he’s not sure if he hasn’t permanently, irreparably ruined his relationship before he can take those next steps with Yongguk.

Tonight, right or wrong, he’s going to push those thoughts out of his mind, and he’s going to allow himself to take strength in the warm security of his alpha’s arms.

He hadn’t told Yongguk he would be coming by, but he has a key already and knows even without one, Yongguk wouldn’t mind.

Entering quietly he finds Yongguk on the living room sofa, working with his laptop resting on his knees. His head’s down, eyes focused on the lit screen as his fingers dance deftly across the keyboard. There’s music playing in the background, but there usually is.

Yongguk is a lyricist and works on the composition and production side as well. Though he’d been born in Korea, he moved to America at age nineteen. (Daehyun’s certain there was a reason that prompted the move but Yongguk doesn’t talk much about his past, so he’s left with missing pieces until Yongguk fills in the puzzle.) It was last March that Yongguk decided he wanted to return to Korea. Now he works freelance, having found a decent amount of success in America, enough to carry it across oceans and give him the ability to set his own hours. If he wants he can work from home or any time of the day and night, which he does when the song requires it or the mood strikes. Still there is something to be said for a semblance of a routine and a designated area exclusively for work only, which is why he rents a studio nearby as well.

Yongguk’s eyes light up seeing him, signature gummy smile appearing, and Daehyun answers back with one of his own.

“My mother sent leftovers,” he says, lifting the bag he’s carrying to show how heavy it is, before making his way to the kitchen, already as much at ease at Yongguk’s place as his own. Opening the refrigerator door, he frowns. He has no trouble finding room to put everything even though his mother had been overly generous in the portions she packed. The fridge is almost painstakingly empty, making him think he needs to scold Yongguk again and remind him of the importance of eating meals and going to the grocery store.

As he reenters the living room, Yongguk is already closing his laptop and setting it aside on the nearest end table. “You could have kept working,” Daehyun says and collapses next to Yongguk, exhausted again by the emotional rollercoaster his life had become.

“It’s fine, it’s nothing that I can’t do later. I didn’t know you were coming by tonight.” Yongguk turns, drawing Daehyun’s face closer and welcoming him with a kiss that leaves Daehyun breathless. “It’s a nice surprise.”

The kiss settles something within him, and he curls into Yongguk, breathing in the scent of the older man. “I missed you,” he whispers, wrapping an arm around Yongguk’s waist, needing the physical contact.

In return, both of Yongguk’s arms circle around him to hug him closer.

Yongguk is his alpha, and he is Yongguk’s omega.

And the man from this morning — the one who reminded him of sunshine and everything that is beautiful in the springtime, the one he ran away from in a moment of overwhelming panic — that man is his soulmate.

__________

*Yes Daehyun is the firstborn. I know all BAP members are maknaes irl but this is an AU with alphas and omegas and soulmates, so I’ve already taken plenty of liberty.

Daehyun, the ripe old bachelor at the ancient age of twenty-eight + his relatives quoting Disney’s Mulan to him >> Daehyun, too, is like LET ME LIVE.

Pretty sure it’s sorcery that Yongguk can look that good with ramyun hair. It should not be possible, yet it is.

Teacher Dae is BAE af.

(Edited while sick so here’s hoping for a fairly errorless chapter.)

Pls let me know what you think of the update. Don’t be shy! Constructive criticism and feedback are <3