“I’m sure I can manage on my own. I’m not a fucking baby.” Namjoon has answered this question at least three times in the last fifteen minutes. Hoseok looks at him thoughtfully, releasing a defeated sigh.
“Fine. Stop whining, you’re starting to sound like one,” Seokjin laughs a little from where he’s standing behind Hoseok, holding the door open as the rest of the pack leave one by one. Hoseok shoots him a stern look. Seokjin mimes the zipping of his mouth. “Just...don’t do what you usually do, and you’ll hopefully be in one piece when we get back.”
Namjoon smiles softly at his best friend, "Yes, sir.” A faint blush colors Hoseok’s cheeks at the title, he coughs a little into his fist, muttering a small “Good.”
He waves at all six of them as the door is shut behind them. Namjoon heaves a sigh of relief once he no longer hears the retreating footsteps of his housemates. His sprained ankle hurts with the effort of sustaining his weight.
His friends had all decided to take a breather from school the week before it starts, and Namjoon being his coordinated self, fucking crashed his bike on the way home from the library. He had hopped all the way to the elevator leading to their excessive apartment, groaning and moaning about how he just wanted one peaceful night. Of course his pack had been less than happy that he sprained his ankle, offering to go to the beach some other time when Namjoon’s ankle is healed. He had declined, saying that they all deserved to let loose and not to let Namjoon be the one to ruin that.
Only after reasoning with all of them that he’d be able to relax in the apartment and that he’d be fine on his own, do they agree to leave him at home.
Namjoon’s been watching this documentary on tissue paper and he’s absolutely bored, and he knows just the people who could help with that. He pulls up his group chat with two other people.
Suck it losersssssss :p
Hey bitchezzzz the pack’s out. Coming back tomorrow late morning. wanna hang?
Namjoon turns his phone off, standing up to get himself a glass of water. His phone dings from where he threw it haphazardly on the coffee table. He picks it up and sees that Jackson and Jiho replied.
Jackson Wan(g)k [ 2:20 ]
Fuck yeah, joonie. Your place????? ;]
Woo Jihoe [ 2:22 ]
Be there after i fix the reverb on this fucking track :/
Yesyesyeysyesyes and snackumsssss plis 0-0
Jackson Wan(g)k [ 2:26]
Whatever you say, babe ;)
Woo Jihoe [ 2:27]
But yeah, whatever you say, babe ;)
I lobe yui guys so muxh <3 <3 <3
He spends the time waiting for his friends by changing in and out of clothes repeatedly. The temperature’s so weird today, when he’s wearing clothes it’s too damn hot but the moment he strips he’s shivering from the cold. Namjoon thinks he might have gotten the flu, his body aches so much.
He pays the pain no mind, cleaning up around the living room to give the illusion that he has his shit together, when all he really wants to do is down some pain relievers and lay down. He plops his body onto the plush couch, his body groaning in relief.
He doesn’t even notice he’s dozed off until he hears the sound of their keypad beeping when someone punches in the right code. He sits up from where he was laying on the couch, rubbing the sleep away with his fist to see better. He can hear plastic rustling and soft coos, he looks up smiling.
“I love it when you’ve just woken up,” Jackson speaking to him in english, setting the plastic bags of who knows what on the dining table. “You’re always so...fluffy.” Namjoon makes a face at that, Jackson sees and barks out that boisterous laugh of his, immediately making namjoon feel better.
The older moves to sit next to Namjoon, close enough for him to smell the alpha but too far for Namjoon’s tastes if he was being perfectly honest. Namjoon is a little annoyed that Jackson isn’t sitting close enough and he doesn’t know why he’s annoyed, he usually prefers some distance especially when it’s so goddamned hot. Jackson’s head shoots up from where he’s looking down at his phone, confusion and mild shock written on his face.
“What?” Namjoon says, voice rough with sleep. The older of the two looks at him, searching for something.
“Are you okay?” Jackson asks, concern evident in the furrow of his brows, leaning closer. “You seem...off.”
“What? I don’t- I don’t...huh?” Namjoon is disoriented, he can smell Jackson so well. The heady scent of sunshine and dewy grass invading Namjoon’s sense of smell.
“You were whining,” Jackson tells him slowly as if he wouldn’t understand him had he spoken any faster and he’s probably right. Namjoon is a little lightheaded like he drank four bottles of beer.
“Whining?” He’s aware his voice sounds airy and if Jackson takes notice he doesn’t point it out. “Why would I do that? Also, can you maybe sit closer? I feel like that’ll soothe my growing headache.” Jackson takes pity on his friend, scooting to sit closer. This time, close enough for him to drape his arm across Namjoon’s shoulders, close enough to rest his head in the crook of Jackson’s neck, nosing at the column. Namjoon hates to admit it but even he knows he’s purring, mild embarrassment forgotten because he feels infinitely better than when Jackson wasn’t petting his head.
They stay like that for a while before Jackson breaks the silence. “Joonie,” he whispers. “I don’t know why, but you smell so fucking good.” Namjoon can hear the slight growl in the older’s voice, removing his head from where he was unconsciously nuzzling Jackson’s scent gland. “You smelt good before but now— fuck. You smell like- like an omega.” They both realize what’s happening and jump apart.
They hear the keypad beeping as Jiho walks in, looking confused as the two of them stare frantically at him. “Okay...what happened?”
“I think Namjoon’s presenting.” It’s Jiho’s turn to look taken aback.
“That’s impossible. Namjoon presented as a beta three years ago.” The eldest slowly shakes his head, “And besides, the latest someone can present is at twenty-two. Namjoon’s twenty-three.”
The three of them sit in silence, Namjoon speaking up. “Yeah, Jackson, I presented as a beta. My parents are betas, I can’t possibly be an omega.” Jackson breathes easy, nodding.
“I guess you’re right. You still smell so good though.” Namjoon lightly punches his arm. The dizziness from a while ago leaving him as he laughs at a joke jackson cracks.
The three of them are seated in three different states of disarray; Namjoon sprawled across the couch, hand under his shirt to cool his heated skin, Jackson sitting on the carpeted floor, back leaning against the couch, and Jiho sitting on the loveseat next to Namjoon, feet propped on the coffee table. It’s been a few hours since they started, they’re all buzzed, choosing to slow down a little because getting wasted is not the point— talking is.
“Hey, Jackson.” Namjoon eases into english, a way for him to practice he had reasoned to Jackson. He waits for the other to acknowledge him, only continuing when Jackson asks what’s up. “I’m hot. And lightheaded.” He concentrates on his words, they sound weird. Like he’s talking underwater.
Jiho and Jackson look at him and then at each other before snickering in that loud obnoxious way they do. “Well, of course you are, Joonie. You are a light-weight. Always have been.” Jiho verbally agreeing from his seat in the chair. Jiho may not speak it well but he does understand everything they’re saying.
“No. Not like that. Like- like…” He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, missing the way Jackson’s eyes seem to glaze over the tiniest bit. “Like I have a fever.” At that, Jiho stands from his seat and walks over to him, he places the back of his hand on Namjoon’s forehead, hissing at the contact.
The beta looks concerned, “It’s ‘cuz you do have a fever, Joon. Shit. You should’ve told us.” The eldest stands and Jackson immediately takes his place, worry etched between his brows. He can hear stuff clattering from the kitchen.
“I knew you seemed off,” the alpha places his hand on the side of his face, thumb softly rubbing at the tops of his cheek. Namjoon leans into the touch, he doesn’t undertsand why but he needs to have someone touch him. Jackson growls low and appreciative at the back of his throat, the alpha in him showing for a fraction of a second.
Namjoon can hear Jiho walk back into the living room, setting down the basin filled with ice water and a towel cloth. “Jacks, help me carry Namjoon to his room.”
“It’s okay, hyung. I got him.” And with that, Jackson asks Namjoon to sit up so he can carry him on his back. He grabs the bottom of his thighs, bringing them around his waist, and hefting up. Like this, He’s so close to Jackson’s scent gland and he’s a little dizzier but that doesn’t stop him from nosing at it.
Jackson stops in his tracks when he realizes what Namjoon’s doing, he bites back the growl threatening to come out and be heard by Jiho. He finally gets to Namjoon’s shared room, walking to the bed riddled with Ryan plushies, and gently lowers the taller boy down. Staring hazily at him.
Jiho comes in and sets the basin on top of Namjoon’s desk, wringing the towel cloth before placing it on Namjoon’s forehead. Repeating this until, eventually, Namjoon falls asleep, hoping that it will bring his temperature down. “I think you should go home, Jacks.” Jackson looks at the taller. “I’m not entirely sure if this fever is a regular one.” He looks worried, eyes shifting from where they were looking at Jackson to looking down at Namjoon’s prone figure. “And if what I’m thinking is right...his pack wouldn’t want you near him right now.”
Jackson understands what he’s implying, he knows it’s not a good idea to stay, just like how he knows Namjoon’s scent is getting stronger — thicker. Almost palpable on his tongue. His nose flares, breathing in the petrichor and the underlying tones of dark chocolate, like hot cocoa on a rainy day. He knows he should leave but god Namjoon smells so fucking good . He takes a step closer to the bed, itching to get behind Namjoon and just scent him, his alpha almost taking control.
Jiho stops him before he can get any closer, taking in his face; eyes glazed and mouth slack. “I’m gonna call Jaebum and ask him to pick you up, stay outside while you wait.” He pushes Jackson to the door without much difficulty, at least he’s still in the right mind to back down, closing the door after him. He dials Jaebum’s number and tells him the bare minimum.
He’ll be here in five.
He has time to calm himself down. Namjoon smells like heaven, even to Jiho’s less sensitive nose. He’s going to have to scent block a mask and wear it the whole night if he wants to make sure Namjoon’s okay.
When he hears the front door clicking shut, he rummages around Namjoon’s desk looking for the small glue stick like scent blocker. Huffing when he finds it just under Namjoon’s wallet. Luckily, he finds a box of masks just near the desk. Now wearing the improvised scent blocker, he tends to Namjoon, patting down the sides of his face with the cool damp cloth. Namjoon shivers at the touch and whines about it being too hot and too cold at the same time.
Hours pass like this, changing what’s in the basin to clean and colder water, trying to lower the fever down but to no avail, giving him sips of water because Namjoon starts coughing when his throat is dry. Jiho sighs as he looks at the thermometer in his hand, Namjoon had gone to bed with a mild fever of thirty-eight degrees celsius, now he has a high fever shooting upwards of forty-two degrees. He’s been trying all night to bring it down, it just won’t budge. The next time he looks up, he can see the sunlight peeking through Namjoon’s curtains.
If this is what he suspects this is, the only way to break Namjoon’s fever is to have his pack with him. He heaves another sigh, his phone rings as he waits for Seokjin to answer his call, he’s most probably the one awake.
“Jiho?” He can hear the confusion in the slightly younger man’s voice.
“Hey, uh, what time will you guys be home?” He tries his best to sound flippant.
“We’re on our way now…what’s wrong?” Seokjin sounds even more confused. “Wait. How’d you know we weren’t home? Were you guys getting smashed in our apartment again?” Jiho ducks his head in embarrassment even though the other can’t see.
“Yeah, sorry. But I need to know what time you’ll be home.” He says a little bit urgently. He has a seminar to be at in an hour, he can’t not go.
“An hour and a half tops.” Jiho curses away from the phone.
He nods to himself, Namjoon can be left alone for an hour, right?
“Okay. Could you be a little faster though? Namjoon has a fever and I have to get to a seminar, like, right now.”
There’s a pause and then Seokjin’s speaking again, “Is his fever bad?” He can hear disgruntled huffs coming from his end. Seokjin’s probably driving faster.
“Almost bad enough to warrant a hospital dash, but it’s enough just to have someone here.” He answers truthfully.
“One hour.” Seokjin speaks lowly into the receiver, “We’ll be there in one hour. Thank you, Jiho.”
Jiho thinks that’s a good enough dismissal and lightly shakes the younger awake. His skin hotter to the touch than it was an hour ago. He checks his temperature again and it’s gone up one more degree. Namjoon’s sweating profusely, shuddering under his comforter, pupils blown. “‘m c- cold.”
“I know, Joonie. I know.” He soothes the younger by running his hand through his damp hair. He guesses he can stay for another five minutes.
“Namjoon-ah, I’m leaving now. Seokjin will be here in forty minutes. Drink lots of water, okay?” He whispers, looking at Namjoon’s growing state of distress. The latter whimpers, tears threatening to roll down his temples.
“O- okay.” Namjoon swallows down, before adding a small “Thank you, hyung.” Jiho feels bad that he has to leave Namjoon, especially with the way he looks so dejected. He kisses the younger’s forehead and noses at his neck to comfort him.
He leaves the apartment with heavy footsteps thinking how the pack’s gonna be in for one hell of a surprise when they get home.
He prays that none of them fuck shit up.