Yeonjun asks to borrow Beomgyu's clothes again, and he lets Beomgyu dress and undress him like a Barbie. Yeonjun's surprised to find that he actually has some preferences when it comes to this style of clothing, but he keeps his mouth shut and trusts Beomgyu's judgment.

"You have a really good body, hyung, seriously," Beomgyu says, shamelessly watching Yeonjun change out of a fifth rejected outfit.

Yeonjun grimaces. "Thanks."

"I know you don't think so, but seriously, everyone else does." Beomgyu says so as he looks through his closet, heaving piles of unfolded clothes out of the way to find what he's looking for. His hands look so dainty against the mounds of fabric, his bones delicate like a baby bird's. Beomgyu could be perfect, if he tried. But, much like Jimin, he refuses to.

Maybe Yeonjun would be able to live more freely if he looked more like them. If he didn't feel the need to make up for all the ways his body is wrong, too strong, too alpha-like.

"It's not important what everyone else thinks about my body," Yeonjun says. He's already been claimed, anyway.

"That's true," Beomgyu says. "What matters is what you think. So, why don't you choose your outfit?"

"What."
"I'm tired," Beomgyu groans, abandoning his closet and flopping face-first onto his bed. "You do it."

"No! You said you'd help me!"
"I'll help by telling you if you look stupid. And, right now, you do!"

So, Yeonjun's digging through Beomgyu's mountain of clothes, trying on pairs of pants and tops, searching for something slightly more subdued than the outfit from his first night out, but still appropriate for the occasion. He chooses wide-legged jeans with a few artfully placed holes. He searches through Beomgyu's tee-shirts, hoping for something graphic and cool. He finds one with a design he likes, but it's slightly small, ending a few centimeters above his pants.

He meets Beomgyu's eyes in the mirror, waiting for Beomgyu to fulfill his promise and tell him he looks stupid. But Beomgyu is silent, and his face gives nothing away.

"I think I like this," Yeonjun says softly, staring at the sliver of exposed skin.

Beomgyu's smile blooms like a flower in a false spring. "I love it."

Yeonjun doesn't want to give himself blisters in Beomgyu's shoes again, so he puts on his own although they don't match the outfit.

"No one's gonna be looking at your feet anyway," Beomgyu assures him. "It's dark in there."

They head to a pizza place where they'll meet Soobin. It's dirty, dark, and smells delicious. A group of college-aged girls sit at the table next to them, speaking in English. Yeonjun taps his feet together under the table, waiting for Soobin.

But it's not Soobin who walks in — it's Taehyun.

Beomgyu jumps out of his seat, then abruptly slows down to a cool, relaxed saunter. He hugs Taehyun, tilting his head back as Taehyun presses his nose into Beomgyu's neck. They speak softly to each other, smiley and rosy-cheeked, then head back to the table.

"Sorry, I forgot to tell you, I invited Taehyun," Beomgyu says.

This was meant to be a friends outing, so Yeonjun doesn't understand why Beomgyu would invite someone who's just a hook-up, but he just smiles. "It's nice to see you again."

Soobin eventually shows up, and a younger, bigger alpha trails behind him. Apparently, Yeonjun's the only person who didn't bring a plus one. Maybe he's just the only one who doesn't have other friends.

Soobin introduces him as Kai, a student he was paired with in a program that assigns each freshman an upperclassman mentor. He seems sweet enough, but he doesn't like that he and Beomgyu are outnumbered now, and —

"I just presented over the summer."

— newly-presented alphas tend to be a little aggressive.

"I'll keep him under control, I promise," Soobin laughs.

Between the five of them, they swallow six bottles of soju and a large pizza, and they're all pleasantly buzzed. As they head towards the door, Soobin mumbles, "You look really different tonight, hyung."

"I'm wearing Beomgyu's clothes."

"They look good on you."

Yeonjun blushes and looks away, but he can't stop himself from smiling. He speeds up to the rest of the group, grabbing Beomgyu's hand.

They go to the same club as last time, since it was the only place Yeonjun felt remotely comfortable and it's one of Beomgyu's favorites. It's all the same as before — red lights, sweaty bodies, cigarette smoke. There's only one difference, and it's the tall, slim alpha behind him, jostled into him every so often.

As inappropriately nervous as Yeonjun is around Soobin, he feels infinitely safer with him around. It's always best to tie yourself to an alpha. They're the only ones who can protect you from their own kind.

They take shots again, chase them down with strong cocktails that Yeonjun can barely stomach but pays for anyway. He's the oldest and most flush for cash, and he's always liked to show off. The boys have broad smiles and red cheeks as they thank him, and Beomgyu lays his head on Yeonjun's shoulders, his hair tickling his neck.

There's a lot about this kind of night that Yeonjun doesn't know. But here's what he does know: Soobin keeps looking at him. Eyes heavy and red beneath the lights, he gazes at Yeonjun as he moves. Each time Yeonjun catches him, his eyes dance off after a clumsy, intoxicated delay.

Yeonjun's head spins. There's too much alcohol in his blood, too much smoke in his lungs, too much heat in his stomach and cheeks and ears. But it's not the same as last time. It feels good. He can feel the bass in his chest, holding steady against his racing heart.

He grabs Beomgyu and slinks his wrists over his neck.

"My pretty hyung," Beomgyu says.

"I thought I was your baby hyung."

"You're growing up so fast!"

They both laugh. In the brief moments that Yeonjun can stop comparing his appearance to Beomgyu's and just be with him, he swears that they look so beautiful standing next to each other.They dance together in a way Yeonjun would scorn other omegas for. He can feel eyes all over them, but no alphas approach. They already have three, and they're watching just as closely, Yeonjun thinks. He doesn't mind. He's performing for them.

He dances, carefully avoiding Soobin's gaze, until he desperately needs the bathroom.

"I'll go with you," Soobin offers. Yeonjun isn't drunk enough to need a chaperone, but why would he reject one?

In front of the one-stall bathroom is a small, slippery staircase. Soobin stands in the middle of it, waiting for Yeonjun. Yeonjun pees in the clogged toilet and goes to the mirror to fix his hair, but all he can do is stare at his own blurry reflection, blinking slowly.

As he walks down the stairs, he misses a step and stumbles, his vision spins and a step disappears. But there's a hand on his arm, warm and strong, stopping his fall.

He looks up at Soobin. Sweat glistens on his forehead and dampens his hairline; blotchy redness paints his cheeks and jaw. He's beautiful.

"Be careful," he says, his damp hand still gripping Yeonjun's arm.

Eyes shut, Yeonjun sways forward, feeling his breath against his lips. He doesn't want to open his eyes, he doesn't want to back up. He wants to lean in and —

Someone's shoving past them, stumbling into the bathroom and smelling like vomit. The scent makes Yeonjun gag, and he steps down from the stairs to avoid it, covering his nose and mouth with his hand. Soobin does the same.

What was Yeonjun about to do? What is wrong with him?

He turns away from Soobin and rushes back to Beomgyu, elbowing his way through the dance floor.

"What's wrong?" Beomgyu asks. "Where's Soobin?"

"I almost..." Yeonjun guards his mouth again. "I almost just..." He can't say it.

Beomgyu's mouth makes a perfect O.

"Oh my god," Yeonjun breathes.

"But did you?" Beomgyu asks.

Yeonjun shakes his head.

"Then it's nothing. Forget about it."

Soobin's not back yet. Yeonjun sees him stuck in the crowd, too polite to push past anyone.

"You're both drunk. It doesn't matter. Nothing happened."

Yeonjun swallows, the heat in his face feeling more like shame than intoxication. But Beomgyu presses a shot into Yeonjun's hands and takes it with him. He intertwines their fingers, pulls him back into their little dance for two. It takes a while, but for a few moments, they're the only ones in the room. There are no alphas, there's no danger, no shame. It's just them: two omegas, feeling pretty, feeling free, and the world is kind. The night saunters on.

Eventually, Beomgyu freezes, stares at Yeonjun for a moment, and throws up on both of their shoes. Vomit seeping into Yeonjun's socks, he wipes Beomgyu's face with a napkin and hands him a water bottle. Beomgyu takes a sip and retches again.

"I think I need to go home," Beomgyu says.

Yeonjun strokes his hair. "Yeah, you do."

They all head out. Yeonjun takes Beomgyu home and makes sure he can keep water down before leaving. By the time Yeonjun gets home, the sun is rising. He unlocks his apartment door to find Juwon half-dressed in the kitchen, hair a mess, pressing random buttons on the coffee machine.

Juwon turns to Yeonjun, purple rings under his eyes. "You were out really late."

"Sorry. My friend got sick, I had to help him."

"You could have texted. I thought something happened to you."

Could he have texted? He felt as if he had previously been gripping onto the hands of a clock, but he let go and was free-falling through the night, farther and farther from his life. Time passed on his phone, trapped and ticking inside his pocket. He didn't reach in there; he wanted to be out here.

"Sorry. Here." Yeonjun nudges Juwon out of the way, starting the espresso. He still feels a little drunk.

Juwon's eyes don't move from the coffee machine. "You smell like other alphas."

"It was crowded." Yeonjun pours milk into Juwon's coffee. "Why are you up so early? It's Saturday."

"I need to go in today." Juwon says, taking his coffee. He normally trades it for a kiss, but today, he doesn't offer anything in return.

Yeonjun goes to the bathroom to shower. And by the time he's done, Juwon is gone.