*10 years later*

Taemin watches Jongin run out to Minho as he comes up the walkway. He blinks into the sunlight as his brother runs into his soul bond’s arms.

Less than two weeks have passed since the solstice and less than two remain until the anniversary of Jongin’s birth and their Ceremony of Intention: Minho is now of age for bonding but Jongin is only old enough to become Intended. He watches as Minho swings Jongin around through the air, the pair laughing, and when he puts him back down they each take a dizzying step back. Taemin watches a moment more before he steps back inside.

They follow him in and soon the three of them are sitting at the table with steaming cups of mulled cider, Jongin’s hand holding Minho’s and their eyes only for each other. Taemin has begun playing the role of chaperon during Minho’s visits and he doesn’t quite understand why, doesn’t quite resent it, but isn’t quite pleased with it either.

The chair that sits empty beside him, always empty, or the one that sits empty between himself and Jongin when he feels disinterested in his role, seems even more obvious than it should be. Only a chair, a simple piece of furniture, it so often seems to be waiting for someone, that it knows a secret that Taemin is being kept in the dark of, and all he really knows is that there is a part of himself that feels sad, maybe even empty, when he sees how full Jongin is when he’s with Minho.

Even when he sees how Minho is when he’s with Jongin.

Even when he doesn’t see them at all.

~

Kibum arrives to his cousin’s home a day early and full of anticipation. At the last moment his grand dam had been unable to travel with him and so he had taken the journey alone, his first such ever. Minho’s sire, dam, and elder brother are as warm as Kibum remembers, though Minho himself is even more excitable than usual, grabbing him up in an embrace so tight Kibum’s arms begin to ache.

It hadn’t been that long ago that he had spent his summers being chased by his elder cousin and best friend in games that left Minho grinning and Kibum disgruntled.

The Chois’ summer home sits on the edge of an enormous emerald lake that sparkles in the afternoon sun and Kibum’s grand dam took him there to visit Minho’s grand dam when the heat of their tiny village became oppressive.

They are Kibum’s only other family besides his grand dam, and a distant alpha cousin who stepped in when needed. And while Minho’s sire always smiled at him coolly, an alpha who held mild affection for an omega child not their own, and his dam and alpha brother only slightly warmer, Minho grabbed him up in his arms and grinned at him as though they were best friends from the day they met.

And soon, they were.

Year after year he looked forward to those visits, the freedom of youth leaving him nearly unaware of their status as alpha and omega children. They would forget as soon as they were alone, and remember as soon as they were with their guardians, Minho’s sire quick to remind them with sharp eyes and a raised brow.

As they got older, their freedoms grew less, though their affections never wavered, and Minho was always Kibum’s best friend.

Outside of summer visits, letters were constantly exchanged, and while Kibum always knew who and what Jongin was, it was with a bit a twinge of something he didn’t recognize to read the minute changes in the way Minho wrote about him.

Of course, he relentlessly for it.

And then, suddenly, Minho stopped writing.

For over a month, Kibum waited for a letter, sending out five of his own, frustrated by his grand dam’s refusal to allow him access to the communication pad, only a soft, “Give him time” whispered with a wrinkled hand rubbed soothingly at his back and squeezing his own when he protested. He pressed his thumb to his lip so hard that he left a mark that chapped and needed ointment.

And then, just as suddenly, Minho started writing.

His best friend’s first rut had taken him by surprise, though it shouldn’t have, and Kibum was himself startled to realize he hadn’t been paying attention to the calendar either. If Minho had gone into rut then he himself would be going into heat within less than two years. The thought had something cold settling into his chest and the next time Minho called it was his turn to not accept.

Eventually, equilibrium was found and they answered each other’s letters, a new topic weaving its way into their conversation; heats and ruts and bonds and all that that meant.

And suddenly everything they had never had to face as children, all the reasons the guardians had watched them with such sharp eyes, made sense. Kibum had never felt his omega status so acutely as he did now, and he had shivered when he had realized that despite his desire for young, for a mating bond, he was relieved to not be tied to an alpha.

He had stopped cold when he had realized that he shouldn’t be.

Now, three years later, they visit well into the night and, when they can no longer keep awake, Kibum is sent to a lower-level apartment separated from the others: An omega of distant blood relation in a house with an unbound, though Covenanted alpha would need to be kept apart, if only for appearances.

He expects he’ll be introduced to his cousin’s Covenanted the next day but is disappointed to learn they will not meet until the ceremony itself.

“Tradition,” Minho explains with a shrug.

Instead, his cousin spends the day taking him around the city and teasing him about his sheltered village life and elbowing him every time Kibum becomes flushed with excitement over a technology unknown to him, such as the doors that slide open just by their approach.

When the time comes to prepare for the ceremony, Kibum fidgets with the button of his silk tunic. It’s not his own, a gift from Minho’s dam that makes him uneasy in its finery and implications.

“Finally, I get to meet your beloved Jongin,” he says with a tease. He pulls at the tunic’s collar pressing against his throat, twisting his head from side to side, watching his reflection in the mirror. His eyelashes flutter as he rolls his eyes when Minho’s dreamy, “Yes” floats from behind him.

Kibum has put great effort into his appearance for his cousin’s Ceremony of Intention. The aqua silk tunic and pants gifted by Minho’s dam are highlighted with his shoulder blade-long hair plaited into a design of five strands with golden threads glimmering throughout falling down his shoulder.

Minho stands behind him in a crimson suit of his own with his cropped hair combed back. The confidence with which he stands as he slips thin gold rings on his fingers has nerves of apprehension tingling throughout Kibum’s body: He’s a mix of excitement at attending such a lavish ceremony and fear of stumbling through it.

Minho is a member of the elite, of the wealthy who live in, or at least near the city. Kibum, though hardly poor, lives in the country as an orphan with an ancient grand dam. There is no alpha Intended waiting for him at home, none who would have attended this ceremony with him if they existed.

There is a tinge of jealousy at what his friend has always had, at what the omega his own age will receive today: The steadiness of a love bond already formed, and the security of a Ceremony of Intention performed before witnesses.

Kibum runs his fingers through his hair and tries to calm his nerves.

“You look fine!” Minho cries, laughing. “Stop fiddling.”

“I always look fine,” Kibum retorts. “Just a little nervous.”

“It’s my ceremony,” Minho points out.

“Yes, but,” Kibum says as he turns around, “it is also Jongin.”

“Yes,” Minho concedes, that dreamy tone to his voice again and Kibum slips his arm through Minho’s, leaning his head against his cousin’s shoulder.

Taemin watches Jongin prepare for his ceremony with an amused smile, laughing at how nervous his brother looks as he fixes his hair in the mirrored glass.

“It is only Minho,” he says, back against the wall and arms crossed.

The tunic he wears is a dark purple and near in tone to the one Jongin wears. During preparations, it had seemed to suddenly occur to Jongin that at this ceremony there would be an alpha waiting to take his hand and none to take Taemin’s. And though Taemin had made no remark, Jongin had quietly insisted that Taemin’s clothing be as fine as his own, an act too kind for even Taemin to for. Unlike tonight.

“It’s…” Jongin’s voice falters and Taemin laughs again. A glare is sent his way through the glass. “Stop laughing.”

Taemin nods and steps forward, wrapping his arms around his brother’s waist and propping his head on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”

“What if I mess up my lines?”

“That will definitely happen.” Taemin laughs again and yelps when Jongin pinches his arm. Pulling away, he moves back to his original spot, this time with his arms at his side. “Minho won’t care, though. And that is what matters.”

Jongin watches him in the mirror long enough for Taemin to frown. “What?” His brother only shakes his head and turns back to his hair.

“Nothing.”

Kibum follows Minho and his family through the crowd to their place at the front. There is a hush that falls as they near their destination and a reverential silence once they arrive.

Minho’s dam is seated first followed by his sire. Kibum is then guided to a place behind them. Minho takes the blessing of his grand dam, a withered palm to each cheek and a kiss to his forehead, before leaving them to take his place at the altar.

Barely a moment passes before his bare feet are reaching the soft carpet and a priestess appears, followed soon by a bonded alpha and omega pair.

Kibum had had no reason before this evening to meet Jongin’s sire and dam and his first impression is good.

Handsome, well-dressed, and the warmth of the smiles upon the pair seeing Minho and his cousin seeing them are so genuine that he finds his own lips turning up in response.

They step aside, revealing an omega nearer Kibum’s age who holds the hand of another who is slightly taller and whose skin is slightly warmer in tone. Their face is hidden beneath a thin veil and they hold an ancient parchment in one hand which shakes slightly.

Kibum listens with as much attention as he can muster while the boy recites familiar verses, voice so quiet it is nearly impossible to hear.

It is the other one, the one holding his hand still, a breach of ceremony that hasn’t gone unnoticed, who captures his attention. He had tried to step away but the veiled one had gripped him tightly and so he stands now, the perfect audience for the soft recitation.

The boy is watching the one hidden by the veil with warm affection, a hint of asmile on his lips and his eyes keep dancing across the veiled face. There is a calmness, an equanimity to his gaze that puts Kibum at ease in as much as it sets his heart to race. He is beautiful, no other word can describe him. Long ebony hair braided in low loops over golden skin and lips that, even from the distance between them and Kibum, Kibum can tell are petal pink.

Beautiful, Kibum thinks again, his heart beating a bit too fast and his cheeks a bit too warm. He shifts in his seat and tries to pay attention to his cousin and to his cousin’s soon-to-be Intended.

It is difficult, though, and he finds his eyes continually wandering to look again at the other omega.

Finally, the words die down and the hands held between the omegas release. The mood shifts and Minho steps forward as the veiled omega turns and the other steps back.

The priestess moves behind them and they stand before one another, Minho reaching out by habit and quickly letting his hand fall, eyes cast down in embarrassment and there is a smattering of cooing in the audience.

“Minho of the clan Choi. You have been in Covenant with Jongin of the clan Lee since you were both young. Today you have the choice to declare your intention to bond with Jongin when he comes of age. Do you accept?”

Minho answers, “I do” so quickly and intensely that Kibum bursts out laughing, slapping his thigh in humor. To his relief, he is not the only one, his gaffe lost in a sea of laughter.

It is no surprise; the pair has a soul bond and there was no chance of Minho denying the opportunity to accept Jongin as his Intended. It is still amusing to all the intensity with which he does so.

And with that, they are each declared Intended.

As they and Jongin’s family step down from the altar and come towards Minho’s family, it strikes Kibum that Jongin has been asked no questions. He had been to such ceremonies before but never for someone he knew so well, no one his own age, and now that it was personal he feels the imbalance acutely. He wonders if Jongin does as well.

Taemin watches Minho acknowledge Jongin as his Intended and he watches Jongin smile happily as he is embraced by the alpha he’s known since the third day after he was born.

And it’s in that moment, the very first moment he has ever stopped to wonder why he doesn’t have a Covenant of his own. As it has never crossed his mind he has never asked his parents and it isn’t until this very moment that he ever thought he would.

The happy couple is happy and they smile and accept the blessings of the elder guardians and of their sires and dams.

Taemin is left off to the side as he has no function in these moments after the ceremony any more than he had a part of the ceremony himself. Jongin held his hand when he was alone, but he has Minho beside him now. Taemin is left with the freedom to stare and wander the room while Jongin and Minho continue to greet their guests.

Many strangers and friends fill the space and it’s difficult to see over and around them as he is yet still small. “Not until your sixteenth or seventeenth year,” his dam had explained patiently when he had asked when he would grow to his greatest. “It will be seen later whether you grow any further than that. Your heats will bring about extra height so there is that to look forward to.” Taemin had made a face and left his dam where she sat kneeling in the yard with a straw hat on her head and a pile of weeds at her feet.

Now he keeps close to the wall as he makes his way toward a dark corner. A break is needed, a chance to catch his breath and be alone for a moment before being caught up again in the reminder that he is alone.

When Minho introduces Kibum to Jongin’s dam, he is surprised to find himself wrapped up in a warm hug that smells of earth, a gentle whisper of “I’m so glad you were able to be here for your friend” in his ear, and he leans into the kindness a little longer than was fair.

When Minho introduces him to Jongin’s sire he bows and congratulates him on his son’s good match.

To his dismay, the boy from before, the omega who had held Jongin’s hand is not with them. Even as he thinks to ask where he might be he lets the question die away. Minho is smiling too brightly at Jongin who is grinning back, and he doesn’t know the boy’s guardians well enough to ask.

Instead, he follows the pair as well as he can as they move back through the crowd, greeting and being congratulated all the while.

After enough strangers give him a confused smile, he slips away, searching out a quiet corner and tucking himself within its shadows. A breath is needed, a moment to gather his thoughts.

A sigh and a dull thud to his left catches his attention and he looks over to find the boy from earlier, the one who had held Jongin’s hand leaning against the wall beside him.

The boy blows out a puff of air, the strands of hair at his forehead fluttering up, arms crossing and eyes at his feet.

Stunned at the appearance and again finding his heart racing a bit too fast, Kibum coughs, choking on air. The boy looks up at him in surprise, as though he hadn’t noticed that another was already standing there.

“Hi,” Kibum says weakly, uncertain of what else to say, and unsure he would be able to manage more even if he could think.

“Oh. Hi.” The boy turns then, shifting so that a shoulder presses to where his back had been a moment ago, arms still crossed. “Who are you?”

Kibum points at his chest, flustered. “Me?”

“Yes,” the boy says with a laugh. “I don’t recognize you. Are you of Minho’s clan?”

“I…” Kibum frowns, not sure how to answer that. “Not exactly. A cousin. Distantly.”

“Ah.” The boy keeps watching him and Kibum watches back, distracted enough by eyes that nearly sparkle that he doesn’t notice that the other hasn’t introduced himself. “Are you unwell?”

Kibum’s brows furrow in confusion. “I…what?”

“You keep staring.”

Kibum’s eyes grow wide and he glances away, embarrassed. “Just waiting for you to introduce yourself.”

“Why?”

He looks back over, warily. “I told you who I am.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Kibum frowns. “Yes, I did.”

“No,” the boy laughs. “You said you were Minho’s distant cousin. That’s what you are. You never said who you are.”

Kibum scoffs, eyes rolling. “I’m Kibum.”

“Taemin.”

“And what are you Taemin? Now that you know what I am.”

“Jongin’s brother.”

“Ah. Oh, of course. Minho…”

“…does not speak of much other than Jongin, yes?”

Taemin’s smile is teasing but Kibum sees the same spark of sadness that burns in his own heart. He wonders if there is an alpha waiting for Taemin when he reaches the age for his own Ceremony of Intention as well.

Jinki watches his youngest child speaking with the young omega he’s only just met, Minho’s friend. They are tucked away in a quiet corner and he smiles, pleased that his son has found someone who so fully draws his attention.

Turning back to his eldest, he thinks still about his youngest and wishes that a similar ceremony was already planned and waiting for him in six months at the anniversary of his birth.

Tonight, however, he is satisfied to celebrate the love of the two before him.

Three nights later he looks at the face of his young cousin on the communication pad. Eleven when the Covenant was made between herself and Taemin, she is now twenty-one and very much alone in deciding the fate of the two.

“It is good to see you, cousin,” Jinki says brightly, truly pleased to see how much Eunsook’s dam is reflected in her own face.

“And you,” is her quiet reply. “I am sorry I could not attend Jongin’s ceremony. Please tell me that my gift arrived.”

“Yes. And he was very delighted to receive it.”

The young alpha blushes demurely and Jinki hesitates to press on. To his surprise, it is she who broaches the subject. “Taemin, though…”

“Yes. He will soon be of age for his own Ceremony of Intention.”

“Does he wish to meet me?”

Jinki stops, startled. “He…has no memory of meeting you as a child. And there was no Ceremony of Covenant. As was requested by your sire. I thought that now-”

“If he doesn’t know, shouldn’t we let him alone?”

“Eunsook,” Jinki begins carefully, “I don’t think you quite-”

“There is still time. He’s still quite young.”

“Yes, but-”

Eunsook shakes her head. “I understand, cousin. I do. I know what we are to each other. I will sign the declaration. Just as with the Covenant, though, let there be no ceremony.”

“Eunsook-”

“At Jongin’s Ceremony of Bonding,” she abruptly declares.

Jinki blinks, his mind a whirl. “What?”

“You’re right. I cannot give him, give either of us forever. At Jongin’s Ceremony of Bonding we will meet. He will be older then. He will be without his brother for three months after that day, and it will give us six months to know each other. We won’t need them, of that I know. And then we will bond at the anniversary of his birth.”

Jinki sighs in relief, tension melting away. “Finally, you speak some sense.”

Eunsook laughs, eyes crinkling in a way that reminds him of her sire from days when he still smiled. “It was bound to happen eventually.”

“It is good to see you, Eunsook. Truly.”

“It is good to see you as well.”

~

It’s when Jongin looks back with frightened eyes that Taemin nearly bolts from his place among the youth to his brother.

The fingers at his side yearn to hold Jongin’s hand and it is only Jongin’s small smile and a slight shake of his head that keeps Taemin where he stands.

They both knew this day was coming. Jongin had spoken of nothing much else since the day Minho claimed his intention to bond with Jongin two months ago, and the last three weeks had been spent with Taemin watching the pair slowly dance away from each other, their usual tender affection fading away to furtive glances.

Jongin’s first heat was different from Minho’s first rut.

Jongin had not been able to sense the change in Minho, but Minho could smell the change in Jongin; even Taemin could see the way the alpha’s eyes had shifted the last three days before he left to endure his rut far away from Jongin.

And now Jongin’s own eyes are dark and heavy as he turns away, disappearing around a corner before Taemin can send out a calm or thought to his brother.

It’s the same as it always is; three days and two nights spent among other youths near his age and cared for by omegas who have taken vows and wear the shroud to prove it.

Their wrists are smooth and some of their smiles sad, a few of them are even unkind in their care. Taemin keeps away from those and stays with his friends, the youths born within the same solar year as his brother and himself and still too young to be taken by a heat.

Sungwoon and Jimin play games and tell stories as they wait, but Taemin is too worried for his brother to understand what they’re saying, and more than once he hears Moonkyu’s voice tell the others to leave him be.

When Jongin emerges, he looks just as he had when he left, albeit a little flushed. He smiles tiredly when he sees Taemin and hugs his brother tightly when he finds himself caught up in the younger’s embrace.

He doesn’t answer any questions while they are still at the heat house, falls asleep during the ride home, and naps yet still another hour, Taemin lying beside him and watching him with his fists tucked beneath his chin.

Only after all of that does he open his eyes and laugh at the look on his younger brother’s face, poking his nose in amusement. “Were you this worried the entire time?”

Taemin bristles, tucking his fists tighter beneath his chin. “I was only curious,” he mutters, though he stays where he is, where he can see Jongin and feel the warmth of his body.

“It’s just as they say,” Jongin murmurs, finger falling to the bed and running across the blanket. Taemin watches the movement. “The rooms are dim and cool. The drinks are slightly bitter, though I think they do their best to sweeten them. I only woke once.”

Taemin stares at Jongin’s face. “What was it like?” he whispers.

Jongin looks up, eyes pensive. “Hot. Wet. I…” He swallows, glancing at the closed door and back at Taemin. “I wanted Minho. I’ve never wanted Minho like that before. Minho told me ruts were difficult and I believed him but…if that’s what they’re like for him…” Suddenly he looks away and shrugs. “An Avowed saw me and brought me drink. I was not awake for long.”

The way his brother begins gnawing at his lip, so like their sire upsets Taemin and he thinks of ways to ease the tension.

He bites his own lip before asking, “Do you think Amma misses the heat houses?” The pensiveness in Jongin’s eyes is soon replaced with shock and Taemin fights to hold back laughter.

“Taemin!”

“A full day of rest with drinks brought to help sleep...” He grunts when he’s hit in the face with one of Jongin’s pillows.

~

Kibum leans up against the cool of the brick building behind him & watches Jongin dash away from Minho. They’re there to play football but the pair are the only ones running on the field. A cloudy spring sky keeps the day gray though neither of them seem affected by the melancholy weather.

The yelp of delight Jongin lets out when Minho catches him from behind & swings him through the air makes Kibum’s heart clench and he looks down at his fingernails. It’s envy, that simple, though not resentment. The attachment he has to Minho wouldn’t make for a good match & it’s not that he wants Minho but he wants to be wanted the way Jongin is wanted by Minho.

The final member of their group, the omega from the ceremony, Taemin comes around the corner. Kibum smiles at the memory of the evening they spent together so many months ago.

They had each intended to make their way back to their seats but had gotten so lost in conversation that neither had remembered to.

Taemin’s sire had been the one to find them, to Kibum’s mortification, and he was certain his cheeks must have been burning bright when he joined the Choi family. Minho’s sire had barely glanced at him, though his dam had raised a disapproving brow.

Now Kibum stands against another wall, watching Taemin watching the two at play just as Kibum had & Kibum notices a familiar flicker of envy that washes over the other’s face.

At least he isn’t alone.

“Hi,” he calls out before he can stop himself, a hand waved in greeting another step at acknowledgment.

Taemin looks over & smiles, waving himself. “Hi. Were you waiting long?”

“No, not long. And they…” Kibum lets the sentence hang as he turns his gaze toward the pair on the field.

He and Taemin are meant to function as chaperons, even though he is a visiting guest, his grand dam visiting with Minho’s grand dam after being unable to attend the Ceremony of Intention earlier in winter.

They are unnecessary and the request made of them a burden as Jongin and Minho are so wrapped up in each other that they have no space for any other. And Minho is so protective of Jongin’s innocence that he would rather cut off his own hand than let any harm come to the omega Intended to him.

Yet here they are, Kibum and Taemin, standing on the sidelines of a love story at play each wondering passively when their chance to step on the stage will be and who will be there when the spotlight shines.

“It’s always like this,” Taemin says with a rueful smile. “Soul bonds.” He shrugs his shoulders as though explaining something simple. Kibum would like to hear Taemin’s voice more, but not on matters of his cousin’s love.

“And you? Have you a Covenant? An alpha waiting to become an Intended?” He crosses his ankles and congratulates himself on keeping a steady tone. Of all the things they had spoken of those many months ago, somehow the obvious had never been asked.

“No,” Taemin replies, almost wistfully, “none for me. You?”

Kibum grimaces at the question. “No, none for me either. Grand dam wants that I would bond for love.”

“Ah,” Taemin says, nodding.

The conversation wanes then, the silence punctuated by bursts of Minho and Jongin yelling and laughing as they run up and down the field. Abruptly, Kibum makes some off-hand comment about music that piques Taemin’s interest.

When Minho and Jongin finally decide to leave, it takes three calls of Kibum’s and Taemin’s names to get their attention.

Another two to get them to leave the wall.

~

Taemin leans back in his lounge chair with his feet poking out in the hot July sun beneath the over-sized umbrella stuck in his chair and watches his brother giggle in the arms of his Intended. Minho is behind Jongin on the black asphalt of the Chois’ tennis court, his arms wrapped around Jongin’s front as he tries to grasp the ball Jongin is clutching tight to his chest out of his hands.

Kibum sits beside him with his feet tucked in from the overhead sun and out glasses resting over his eyes. Glasses of drink sit on the table between himself and Kibum that glisten with condensation on the side and tinkle when picked up, spheres of ice tapping against the inner edges.

They are at Minho’s home which means the glasses are true glass and served on a silver tray of true silver by staff in a uniform and a tight smile. Taemin likes it when they visit the Choi house because it means he doesn’t have to serve the drinks or clean up after Minho leaves.

He especially likes it today with Kibum by his side.

A squeal from Jongin again draws his attention and now his brother is bent over in a fit of laughter and Minho’s fingers are working at his sides in an aggressive assault of tickling.

Taemin is bored of their antics and turns to Kibum for companionship and distraction as Jongin breaks free from Minho’s grasp and begins dashing across the court. Taemin is still looking at Kibum whose gaze could be on anything or nothing but is most definitely hidden behind his -out glasses.

“What’s new with you?” Taemin asks, admiring Kibum’s profile and the smoothness of his skin. He has no topics at hand to discuss and he doesn’t know Kibum well enough yet to broach ones the other might be interested in.

They’d met once since the Ceremony of Intention in January and they had spoken for hours and yet Taemin could not recall much of what it was about. There was talk of their mutual lack of Covenants, music, and how when it came to plant life Kibum’s thumb was a bright green while Taemin’s was nearly black; that he remembered.

He remembered also the way Kibum’s shoulders curved when he got shy, the softness of his eyes, and the scar in his brow that Taemin itched to touch.

He had enjoyed every minute of their time together.

Now it is July and the question is a tease in its own way and a somewhat sarcastic remark as nothing truly happens in their village and even less so in the one Kibum lives in with his grand dam.

“This conversation,” Kibum answers with a sideways smile.

Taemin rolls his eyes and smiles against his straw, watching the dimple in Kibum’s cheek. Quiet on the court draws his attention and he looks over to see Jongin and Minho hugging. Minho walks away empty-handed while Jongin picks up his racket and, once Minho is in place, strikes the ball with all of his might.

Taemin knows that Minho holds back his strength when he plays with Jongin, though he doesn’t do the same at all when it is Taemin on the court. When he notices, Jongin objects, but Taemin knows that Minho finds it difficult to play fair when it means that in any way Jongin might get hurt; his body or his feelings. He’s playing for real for now, but he’s beginning to struggle, and Taemin turns to Kibum with a grin.

“How long do you think Minho will manage to play at full strength before he breaks and begins taking it easy on my brother?”

Kibum raises his head and observes the match a few moments before responding. “My guess would be seven minutes.”

“I would say five,” Taemin muses.

“How long after do you think it will take Jongin to notice and put his hands on his hips in protest?”

Taemin laughs, amused that Kibum, who has only been visiting for half a week has learned Jongin’s mannerisms so well. “Today? Another five. Perhaps as much as ten. It is a high infatuation day and I do not think that he is really paying attention to the game.”

“Perhaps not,” Kibum says slowly, “but that was quite the struggle for the ball.”

Taemin shrugs. “I think he was more into it for the hug than any victory.”

“You may have a point. I’m saying seven on both, then. And you say five?”

“Yes.”

“And what is our wager?” Kibum asks as he lies back down.

Taemin watches him and thinks. The sound of the ball thudding back and forth across the court reminds him of the beat of a recently popular song and he grins mischievously as he says that a dance should be their barter.

The sunglasses that have so far remained still on Kibum’s nose now rise to his brow and Taemin sees that the scarred one is raised incredulously as Kibum asks, “A dance?”

“A dance.”

“Three minutes.”

“For the-” Kibum tilts his chin and Taemin looks over at Jongin and Minho and inwardly cheers Minho’s tender nature on.

Nodding, he turns back. “We’re the only ones here and it’s only a silly bet. Agreed?”

The thudding continues in the backdrop while Kibum considers and ultimately he raises his shoulders in confirmation. “Agreed. Two minutes. I look forward to seeing your moves.”

Taemin scoffs as he turns back to the game, pulling his feet out of the sun to tuck his knees beneath his chin and wrap his arms around his shins.

In the end, neither of them are right on how long it takes Minho to begin cheating as the alpha manages to make it a full ten minutes before giving away the game.

It is Kibum who wins on the Jongin end of the bet as at almost exactly the seven-minute mark the unhappy frown that had been slowly growing on Jongin’s face finally turns furious and he stands up with his fists at his hips as he cries, “Choi Minho stop letting me win!”

Kibum sighs happily and turns to Taemin who grumbles about having said “as much as ten” as he stands up from his perch. Minho is apologizing as a backdrop and Jongin is saying something back but Taemin hears neither well as he begins to move his body in exaggerated moves as his embarrassment at losing has him trying to distract Kibum from his victory.

When the two minutes finally end, Jongin whoops in the background, but Kibum only watches him from behind the blackened glasses.

“Well?” Taemin asks impatiently.

“Well what?” is the infuriatingly calm reply he receives.

“What did you think of my dancing?”

Kibum shrugs and reaches over to grab his glass and it’s then that Taemin sees that the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks are tinged pink. Kibum holds the straw in one hand and just before he puts it in his lips to take a sip he says, “It was only a wager.”

“What was a wager?” comes Minho’s deep voice from behind them and Jongin is looking at them in interest as well.

They stand side by side and they glow with exertion and with love and neither Kibum nor Taemin hesitate to answer, “You”.

It’s an accident, they answer in unison and Taemin’s eyes crinkle as he smiles at Kibum with delight. The only other person who will tease Jongin and Minho, it seems. A new ally for when their love and devotion to one another gets to be a bit too much for Taemin to endure alone.

Jongin’s eyes narrow but Minho, surprisingly, only laughs good-naturedly before patting Jongin on the shoulder and tilting his head back toward the court.

Taemin sits down again and pokes his feet back out into the sun. The thump, thump, thump of the ball against the court echoes in front of him as he turns to Kibum and says, “You must visit more often.” Kibum nods silently even as his lips turn up into a satisfied smile.

~

Kibum sits with Minho at the small table in the middle of the floral garden he’s tended to with his grand dam since he was five and watches as alpha after alpha carries every bit of the life he shares with her out of their home and into a waiting trailer.

“It will be good to have you near,” Minho says, taking a sip of the drink Kibum’s grand dam had insisted he have. Two clear glasses filled with sparkling drink sit on a silver tray between them and they watch as the elder omega, along with Minho’s own grand dam, give instructions to the movers. Minho’s sire stands with them though she keeps silent, a symbol of authority as an alpha, though merely through age the two nearly outrank her.

“Yes,” Kibum agrees, thinking of Taemin and how often they will be able to sit beside each other.

“Taemin will be glad to have you near.” Kibum coughs as his eyes widen, and he turns his head to his cousin before he can catch himself.

“What-why-what-why would-”

Minho laughs, taking another sip. “The guardians make him our chaperon with every visit. I think…I know he finds it dull. And he was very happy to have you around. It will be easier to keep in touch if you actually see each other and no longer need to rely on writing letters.” Kibum blushes and picks up his glass and takes a long drink. Minho only watches in amusement as he continues. “I haven’t told him. And since he has not been grinning as you have these last weeks, apparently you haven’t either.”

Kibum ducks his head. “No,” he says, suddenly embarrassed. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Well it will be, cousin. And I think it will be a very happy one.” Kibum smiles, looking down at his drink. After the equinox, he thinks, after the anniversary of his birth. Soon.

~

The wing of the heat house where Taemin now finds himself is just as Jongin had described; dimly lit and cool with Avowed omegas dressed in pale linen frocks and warm smiles moving up and down the rows of beds with pitchers in their hands. An omega older than his dam with skin wrinkled from years of smiling leads Taemin to a bed covered in a gray sheet and assures him that she will be back soon with a firm squeeze of his shoulder.

He sits gingerly on the soft linen and looks around the room.

A few of the beds have double the occupants, omega youths frightened of their first heats holding the hands of those who have experienced them before, or those experiencing them for the first time as well, for courage while they still can.

Taemin wishes Jongin were here to hold his hand, but he was lost somehow in the crowd and Taemin is alone without even his friends as he sits and waits. Jongin had told him of how his own heats had been, of the drinks the Avowed would soon provide. Still, Taemin worries. The hands folded at his lap hold his attention and he stares at his fingers and thinks of Kibum and smiles.

Suddenly, a hand at his shoulder and a huffed, “There you are!” grab his attention and he looks up to find Jongin asking the omega in the bed beside Taemin if he may take her place. One look at Taemin has her smiling and nodding and now Jongin sits at the bed beside him.

“What were you thinking about?” his brother asks, glancing around the room distractedly.

“What?”

“When I came in,” he continues, still looking around, “you were smiling. What were you thinking about?”

“I…ah…I was…” Taemin’s cheeks burn and he can feel his eyes widen. Kibum, he thinks, Kibum, of course: what else?

To his relief, the Avowed begin pouring drinks and having the omega youths lie down. He turns to Jongin only to find his brother staring at him. Frozen, he stares back. They’re silent until an Avowed reaches their beds and says it’s time, a cup offered to Jongin first. It takes a moment for him to notice her presence, though when he does he is all good manners and accepts the drink with a word of gratitude. Taemin follows Jongin’s lead and soon the Avowed moves on. He lies down and folds his hands over his chest, keeping his eyes on his fingers until he feels himself fall asleep.

~

Taemin’s eyes grow wide and he leaps at Kibum, throwing his arms around the other’s neck and surprising Jongin and Minho who watch from behind him.

“Does this mean you’ll be on all the visits?” he asks excitedly as he steps back.

Kibum feigns a reluctant smile. “I suppose so. If I have to.”

“No,” Minho cuts in, his eyes dark and mouth set. “There is no need. One chaperon is quite enough.”

Taemin’s smile drops and he looks to Jongin who turns to Minho who’s still looking at Kibum. Kibum sighs and shakes his head. “Are you always like this? No wonder Taemin is constantly bored.”

Jongin begins to chuckle, turning to hide his face with a cupped hand, and Minho’s facade is quickly broken by the amusement of his soul bond.

The panic in Taemin’s eyes melts and another smile, albeit tentative, makes it way to his lips. “Then you will be on the visits?” he asks again, glancing once at Minho as he takes a step forward to place a hand on Kibum’s shoulder.

“Of course,” Kibum answers softly, caught again in the beauty of Taemin’s eyes.

“Good,” is the response he’s given. That and the warm hand that continues to rest on his shoulder.

~

Taemin holds Kibum’s hands and only shrugs when Minho teases him about losing his gloves. A feigned illness during the Ceremonial Hunt meant not seeing Kibum for a week. Too long, Taemin thinks, rubbing his thumb lightly over Kibum’s fingers. They are walking through the snow because Jongin had been struck by the beauty of the falling flakes. He walks with an arm linked through Minho’s while Taemin and Kibum follow behind.

Taemin listens to Kibum talk and watches the way his lips move, laughs at the wrong moment and almost loses Kibum’s warm fingers.

At the end of the visit, he hugs Kibum quickly, hurrying down the drive and turning just as he reaches the vehicle waiting for him and waving good-bye with a gloved hand.

~

“I hate this season,” Taemin says bitterly, staring out the window at the snow falling in thick flakes, “the Holy Day of Mourning. I don’t like that it happens so near the anniversary of Jongin’s birth. Such a sad thing shouldn’t happen so near such a happy thing.”

“It would have to happen near someone’s birth,” Kibum points out absently from where he lies on his bed with a magazine in hand.

“At least I have no one to mourn,” Taemin sighs as he lies down beside him, arm tossed lazily across his forehead.

Kibum shallows his breathing as he always does when Taemin throws himself so casually near. It’s a habit by now; he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it anymore.

“Truly blessed,” he murmurs, turning the page.

“Will you go for your parents?” Taemin asks quietly. “You don’t talk about them much.”

Kibum glares out of the corner of his eye and grips the pages in his hand a bit tighter. “I don’t talk about them at all,” he points out, voice sharp.

“I know,” Taemin answers, eyes still at the ceiling. “I was trying to be tactful.” Kibum scoffs and flips a page. “What?”

Kibum hesitates, eyes unfocused on the page before him. He lets it fall to his chest, fingers still gripping the pages.

“We’re more alike than you think,” he begins slowly, his eyes staring at the wall lit by a winter sun. “Than I let on. Not even…” he pauses, wondering. “I’m not sure even Minho knows, though his guardians might.” He turns then, onto his shoulder, pages crinkling in protest. Taemin’s head turns to watch him. “They’re not dead, I’m not an orphan.” The eyes he has begun to love blink and then the brows he has begun to love furrow.

“What?”

“I’m not an orphan. Grand dam just says I am. I…here.” The magazine falls forgotten to the floor as he climbs off the bed. It’s a process to break through the two locks that reveal a hidden compartment all within a simple box that seemingly holds nothing.

A crinkled sheaf of paper reveals itself and he unfolds it carefully, avoiding looking at the familiar words before handing it to the other omega.

“No one wanted us, you and I,” he says bitterly as Taemin’s eyes flicker over the paper. “It’s just that my parents made it official when they abandoned me.”

It’s silent in the room as Taemin’s eyes scan the document with Kibum’s name, date of birth, and Confirmation of Release all neatly printed on it.

“We were wanted too, though,” he murmurs suddenly, eyes still on the sheaf. “You have your grand dam & I have my sire, dam, & Jongin. And we each have a Confirmation of Acceptance.” He pulls out another document and shakes it gently with a smile.

Tucking it back in, he adds, “And now we…we have each other.” There’s a soft flush to his cheeks and he doesn’t look up as he carefully folds the first sheaf back together. Kibum takes the hope and the heat in his own cheeks and tucks them both away for the future.

“Fate,” he chuckles, no acerbic remark clicking in his head or off his tongue because suddenly he hopes it might be true, that the scar he’s carried on his heart since he was a child was actually a mark that Taemin carries as well and instead of it making Kibum an outcast it makes them a pair.

Taemin chuckles too and finally looks up. “It could be worse, you know. When I was eight, finally old enough to join the guardians for a hunt I watched Jongin shift into a beautiful wolf. Soft gray with pale violet eyes. I was so proud. And then those eyes turned to me, bright with excitement and I was excited too. And then they slowly began to glisten with confusion. No matter what I did, nothing changed. My skin stayed golden and no fur ever formed.”

Kibum swallows hard and his heart skips a beat as he listens.

“I was shaking and my sire kept saying my name in the softest voice and then Jongin was whimpering. I began crying and asking him why I couldn’t do it and he said he didn’t know. It didn’t make sense; I could hear his thoughts in the forest as a child, I could hear them still, I should be able to shift. It never occurred to the guardians that I wouldn’t.

“I was so scared. I asked him where I would go now. I was sure he would send me away. Jongin was still in wolf form, nuzzling me with his snout and whimpering, and I was petting him and crying. And then my sire stood up and his eyes grew dark and I cried even harder and Jongin began to howl. It was awful.

“Then he picked me up and held me tight. He whispered in my ear that I would come on the Hunt. I would carry supplies between the tents and I would stay with my dam while Jongin joined the other omegas. And that when it was finished I would come back home with them. That nothing had changed. ‘Nothing has changed, Taemin. Nothing. You are my son. Always.’ No one else knows,” he adds with a shy smile. “You’re the only one I’ve ever told.”

“I can’t even hear thoughts,” Kibum confesses breathlessly. Taemin’s eyes widen and it’s as though all the air in the room has dissipated.

“Then…”

“Minho knows. And now you.”

They stare at each other in the uneasy quiet, too many revelations in too little time to be comfortable.

Then suddenly Taemin’s lip quirks up in a half-smile. “We really are fated.”

Kibum snorts. “If we were fated we would live closer.”

Taemin’s fingers meet his on the bedding. “At least you are no longer in that tiny village.”

“The outskirts of the city is still too far away.”

Taemin laughs. “You should live with Minho.”

“Fate will bring us together,” Kibum says, curling his fingers against Taemin’s. “Just watch.”

~

“What do you think of Kibum?” Taemin asks carefully, his eyes studiously focused on the cup in his hand and the towel with which he dries it. His brother’s own hands are in the basin of water, emerging amongst small waves with the last of the dishes from their evening meal: A single fork.

“I knew there was one more,” Jongin mutters, pulling the drain and letting the waterline slowly disappear as he scrubs and rinses off the utensil, handing it to Taemin and his drying towel.

Taemin takes it and swallows back the urge to repeat the question. They’re nearly done and once they’re fully finished he can try again.

“Kibum?” his brother asks distractedly, glancing over once before he begins wiping down the counters around the sink. “I like him. Although,” he laughs, turning to take the towel out of Taemin’s hands, “I haven’t had as many conversations with him as you have. But I’ve enjoyed the ones we’ve had. And he makes Minho laugh.”

Taemin follows as Jongin begins walking down the hall toward the washing room. He stands in the doorway with crossed arms as his brother drops the towels they had just used into the ancient machine. They’re halfway across the hall when Jongin chuckles and looks to him. “Why do you ask?”

Taemin pauses. “I like him too.” He waits, watching Jongin take in his words and hoping he absorbs the meaning behind them as well.

His brother’s smile remains though he begins to look at him in confusion, leaning up against the wall with his own arms crossed. “With as much time as you two spend together, I would hope so.”

“No, Jongin, I like him.” He waits again, again hoping. Jongin’s brows begin to furrow. “Very much,” he adds, watching his brother’s head begin to tilt. “Like you like Minho.”

Jongin blinks once before his eyes slowly soften, a hand reaching out to rest on Taemin’s arm. “I thought so. I just wasn’t sure.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Taemin whispers, arms tightening around his chest.

“What do you mean?” Jongin asks, brows furrowing again as he takes his place again against the wall.

“I…do you think he likes me too?” Jongin bursts out laughing and Taemin frowns. “Why are you laughing?”

“That’s not the problem, Taemin. Though yes, I do think he does. But…” Jongin’s eyes soften again only this time there’s a ribbon of worry woven within his gaze. “You’re both omegas.”

Taemin’s shoulders slump. “I know.”

“Just be careful,” his brother cautions, reaching out again to place a hand at Taemin’s arm.

~

At Minho’s final, focused strike, Kibum and Taemin are soundly defeated.

The same court they had so often watched Jongin and Minho play on they now play on too. Neither are in the game to win. In fact, half of the reason they are sweating beneath a late spring sun is for the simple joy of watching Minho’s composure crumble in frustration when it becomes clear that neither of them are going to be worthy opponents.

The other half is for the freedom the exercise gives them. No excuses need to be made to hold hands, no second glances given when they run around the court in a frenzy. Just open affection and laughter.

Taemin is laughing, spinning Kibum through the air as he has seen Minho do to Jongin so many times. When he puts him back down, he looks up and sees his brother watching. The way Jongin watches makes Taemin’s chest tighten. His brother’s eyes are warm but sad, and so is his smile. Taemin turns away, laughing again when he sees that Kibum is still dizzy.

~

Taemin and Kibum hold hands beneath the table at the Choi house and their thumbs play notes up and down each other’s knuckles. Their empty hands hold cold drinks and they sip in silence while they grin against their straws.

~

They are all too old to be playing a game of dares, but it is the anniversary of Taemin’s birth and by rights they follow his insistence.

There are others there that Kibum only faintly recognizes, omegas named Moonkyu and Jimin who are friendly enough but stick close to Jongin and Taemin. He feels his presence as an outsider acutely and if it weren’t for the way Taemin’s eyes shine and how he slips both arms around Kibum’s he might have made an excuse to leave early.

Instead, he stays.

And at this moment, regrets it dearly.

“You don’t have to do it,” Jongin tries to console him from across the table.

Moonkyu and Jimin nod in agreement even as Taemin shakes his head. “Of course he does. And I will see to it.” He stands and raises a brow at Kibum who himself begins to slowly rise. The other three begin to follow but stop when Taemin raises a hand. “No, just us.” They exchange glances before nodding, eyes blank as they watch Kibum make his way toward the door.

The challenge was to climb up onto the roof of Taemin’s home. A ladder is easily pulled from a shed by the omega’s hands and Kibum swallows heavily as he watches it be placed against the frame of the house. He takes a deep breath and has both hands on the sturdy wood when he feels Taemin’s warm hand on his arm.

“Kibum.” He turns and finds himself struck by a look in Taemin’s eye he’s never seen before; a mixture of eagerness and fear. “This isn’t the true challenge. My true challenge…is to kiss me.” There’s a brief pause before his eyes widen and he blurts out, “Only if you want to!”

Kibum stares.

There had been flickers of hope that what he had imagined were moments of reciprocity were true but they were only flickers: Omegas didn’t fall in love with omegas.

“Don’t tease me, Taemin,” he says carefully.

“If it were a tease we would have stayed inside.” There’s an earnestness in his tone and Kibum can’t catch his breath as Taemin’s gaze never wavers.

“You’ve…never…we’ve…”

Taemin’s shoulders droop and his eyes begin to look everywhere except Kibum’s face. “Just say no, Kibum. You don’t have to explain or make excuses.”

“Ancients, Taemin,” Kibum breathes, taking a step forward. Taemin looks up, dark eyes flickering back and forth between his own. “I’m saying everything but ‘no.’”

The air grows warm between them and Taemin’s gaze slips to Kibum’s lips as he leans forward.

Halfway in, Taemin pauses and looks back up at Kibum who only breathes in the stillness. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, and neither does Taemin by the looks of things, but somehow the warmth of the palm at his jaw and the way Taemin’s hips feel beneath his own hands seems familiar.

A swallow and a deep breath by both and then Taemin’s lips are on his, soft and chaste and he feels a rush thrill through his nerves. He blinks twice as he pulls away, biting his lower lip shyly.

Taemin’s watching him earnestly, lips already turning up in a grin. “I want to kiss you again,” he says eagerly.

Kibum grins too because he also wants Taemin to kiss him again.

But he doesn’t let him. Instead, he’s the one to press their lips together for a second time.

And it’s not until Kibum’s halfway back down the ladder, after making it up to the roof, that he remembers that he’s afraid of heights.

~

“I love you,” Taemin whispers in the dark, the two lying on their backs and staring at a ceiling that is shrouded from their sight. A month has passed since their first kiss, a year and a half since they first met. They are alone in the room Taemin has spent every night for the last twelve years because they are omegas and no guardian suspects.

Jongin is the only one who knows.

Taemin smiles into the dark when he hears Kibum whisper, “I love you too.”

And then it hits, a warmth that flows from his chest out through his entire body. He shivers as a sensation he’s never felt before washes over him and a faint burst of golden sparkles flutters across his visage.

Startled, he turns to Kibum only to find him glowing with the same golden sparkle. It’s fading into the dimness but there’s no denying it’s appearance, especially as Kibum’s eyes continue to glow.

“Taemin,” his love whispers, an awe to his voice.

He answers with a kiss, a giggling mess that has him holding Kibum tight around the neck.

As he had fallen in love with Kibum, he had hoped for such a moment. The chances were never in their favor, so many barriers already surrounded their love. Yet despite them all, despite knowing that they will never form a mating bond, Taemin and Kibum this night have formed a love bond.

~

“Does this happen to you every year?” Kibum asks, lying in the bed beside Taemin with their fingers loosely entwined.

“No,” Taemin answers, voice hoarse, “though often enough that it has become a joke in the village. Occasionally I only pretend. This time I really am sick.”

“You’ll probably make me sick as well,” Kibum muses, wiggling his fingers. Taemin only hums, eyes closed and mouth open as he labors to breathe through a congested airway.

The guardians had allowed Kibum to keep behind to care for Taemin. The Ceremonial Hunt means that nearly all are away, but an alpha who normally guards the heat houses had been left to guard the youths. She sits now in the kitchen with a book while the two lie in Taemin’s bed. Kibum listens as his love drifts in and out of sleep, coughs and sniffles reminders of why they’re there, and he keeps their fingers tied throughout the day as much as he can.

They are safe with the alpha guardian, but she is still a stranger to them, and so even when he becomes hungry he stays in the bed. It is well into the night before he stirs, and it is only at Taemin’s own insistence of hunger and thirst. The alpha guardian smiles and is kind but curt, never rising from her seat while he prepares a meal for himself and his love.

They eat soup and drink tea in Taemin’s bedroom and Kibum kisses his forehead softly. Taemin murmurs, “I love you” as quietly as he can in a voice that is deep and that is followed with a racking cough.

Kibum laughs and whispers, “I love you too. Now keep silent and go to sleep,” pushing Taemin back onto the bed and rubbing his back until his love is no longer awake.

He takes the dishes to the kitchen, washes them, dries them, puts them away, and then goes back to where he belongs: By Taemin’s side.

Another three days pass in this manner as Taemin grows healthier and their time together shorter. By the end of it, there is no more coughing and a jubilant Jinki, Minjung, Jongin, and Minho return, smiles on their faces and only Jongin knowing what the time alone has meant for the two omegas.

~

“Appa?” Taemin asks timidly, standing in the doorway of his sire’s study and watching as Jinki works his fingers over a screen that is too flat for him to see. A scattering of paper covers the desk and pair of bookcases rise high with leather-bound tomes and a few well-worn paperbacks. The room is dark and familiar with a window directly across from where he stands letting in a bit of sunlight behind a crinkled blind.

“A moment, Taemin. I am nearly finished,” Jinki murmurs, eyes on the project before him.

Taemin nods and waits.

Another minute passes and then his sire looks up, squinting and blinking, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “What is it?”

“The anniversary of my Ceremony of Acceptance is soon.” Taemin watches with a flush to his chest as his sire’s face lights up.

“Yes,” he says brightly, “I look forward to celebrating.”

“As do I. It is only just…it is…I…” Taemin his lips and presses on. “Would it be acceptable for me to have a friend to dinner?” He watches with a sinking heart as his sire’s smile turns to a frown.

“To the family dinner?”

“I…yes.” Jinki leans back, arms folding tight across his chest. Taemin’s own hands link at his waist and his shoulders begin to curve in a submissive pose.

“Who?”

“Kibum. Minho’s cousin.”

“Oh!” To his relief, the frown on his sire’s face melts away to a look of understanding. “Of course. He is nearly family, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Taemin answers with a nod, “he nearly is.” He pushes back the thought of how he wishes that he were allowed to be and presses on. “So, would it be acceptable?”

“Nearly isn’t actually, Taemin,” his sire says in a patronizing tone. “Let me speak with your dam first before any such decision is made.”

Taemin frowns.

“Minho is allowed,” he snaps. There’s a sudden freeze to the air and he regrets speaking as soon as the words are out of his mouth.

“Jongin is Intended to Minho. And they are soul bonds. Minho is family.” There’s a sharpness to his sire’s tone that Taemin didn’t expect but that he should have.

“Forgive me, Appa. I should not have said it like that.”

“Of course, little one. Family always forgives.” He gives Taemin a smile that Taemin does his best to reflect back. “Now, go be productive. I will finish this and then I will talk to your dam. And there is no need to get worked up about it. We both know that she will give you what you want.” He winks then and Taemin chuckles, though still a bit unsure. He nods and closes the door of his sire’s study, holding the handle in his hand and staring at the wood long after the lock had clicked. He waits a few more moments before turning to his own room.

Kibum is beside him on the anniversary of his Ceremony of Acceptance when his sire recounts the story of how he was found in the woods.

~

Kibum’s grand dam dies on a spring day far too bright for the shadow that is cast.

Kibum blinks back tears and presses the back of his thumb against tight lips as the warmth of Minho’s arm lies against his shoulder and the fire of his grandmother’s funeral pyre burns.

He is now officially without clan.

A crowd adorned in white surrounds him as they watch an elder absorbed by the flames. The priestess says a few words and blesses Kibum’s forehead with their palm.

Taemin and Jongin’s guardians come to him, Jinki pressing a palm to his cheek and Minjung holding him fast. Taemin says nothing and a sob ripples through Kibum’s chest and through his lips. His face is in his hands when he feels Taemin’s fingers in his hair and the lips of his love pressed to his forehead. Kibum’s head falls against Taemin’s shoulder and his back is soothed by the other’s hands, arms holding him tight.

The Chois intercede immediately and by the end of the day he has a home in their estate, the things he had in the house he shared with his grand dam packed up and safely stored away. When later that evening he steps into the basement apartment he had spent nights in as a visitor it’s filled with things that are familiar but that look wrong in the new space.

Everything looks wrong.

Everything feels wrong.

Everything except Taemin’s hand holding Kibum’s as they walk from the pyre back to the lot where all the vehicles wait to take the mourners home.

Except Kibum.

He will be going to the Chois’.

“I didn’t know,” Taemin whispers sadly, furtively, apologetically even. Kibum knows immediately what he’s talking about and that he’s a fool for thinking it: Fate did not take his grand dam away to bring them closer together.

“I love you,” he whispers instead, squeezing the hand in his.

“I love you,” is whispered back, his hand squeezed in return before they’re separated and he watches Taemin watch him leave with the Chois.

~

The early summer sun stings but there’s a soft breeze that cuts through the heat as Taemin thinks about what he wants to say.

“Do you think about the future?” Taemin asks casually, glancing at Kibum out of the corner of his eye before turning his gaze back on his brother. Jongin’s own eyes are on the board before him, game piece in hand, and Minho’s are on Jongin as he waits his turn.

“Of course.”

“What do you want?”

“Well,” Kibum scoffs, “I have no Covenant so it’s either the heat houses as an Avowed or-”

“No,” Taemin interrupts, turning then to look at Kibum fully. “What do you want?”

Kibum’s eyes stay down, focused on his hands. The shaded glasses keep his thoughts hidden. “A family,” he says softly, as though it were a secret to be ashamed of. “A bond and young.”

“You should have that,” Taemin answers, voice equally gentle. Kibum scoffs again, turning even as he slips the shaded glasses over his head.

“Those things require Covenants and alphas. Those things aren’t mine.”

“They should be.”

Without thinking, Taemin’s hand reaches across the space between them and takes hold of Kibum’s wrist, sliding down until it’s resting over the back of Kibum’s hand. Kibum looks at it for what seems an eternity before turning his own around and opening his fingers wide so that they lace with Taemin’s.

“My grand dam never made me a Covenant. And the Chois won’t make me one either. They all want me to have a love bond before a mating bond. But how can I have a love bond with an alpha when…” He looks up then, looks into Taemin’s eyes and Taemin can only smile sadly and wish he could give his love the bond and the young he wants.

“We will be good together in the heat houses as Avowed,” he says quietly, shaking Kibum’s hand. A soft chuckle is elicited from his love and it is enough for now.

“We will be awful,” Kibum argues. “But at least…we will be together.”