"You were the answer before I knew the question."
Ours,my omega breathed, something cracking open in my chest.They're singing about us. All of them. Ours.
The song ended. Silence filled the studio.
"It's about you." Jin-ho said it quietly, not looking at me, his eyes fixed on the screen where the waveform had gone still, his hands gripping the edge of the desk. "About finding you. I started writing it the day after we triggered. I couldn't stop."
"Jin-ho..." My voice came out thick, rough with emotion, his name catching in my throat.
"The lyrics need work." Jin-ho continued, still not meeting my eyes, his fingers tapping nervously against the desk in an erratic rhythm. "They're too raw, too obvious. I need to?—"
"They're perfect." I cut him off, reaching out to catch his hand, stilling his restless movements, my fingers wrapping around his. "Don't change them. Don't make them less obvious. Let them be exactly what they are." Jin-ho finally looked at me, and I saw the uncertainty there — the fear that he'd revealed too much, shown too much of himself.
"You think so?" Jin-ho's voice was barely above a whisper, hope and doubt warring in his expression, his dark eyes searching my face for the truth.
"I know so." I squeezed his hand, holding his gaze without wavering. "That song is going to destroy people, Jin-ho. In the best way."
Something shifted in his expression — relief, gratitude, something softer that made my heart stutter. He lifted our joined hands and pressed a kiss to my knuckles, the gesture achingly tender, his lips lingering against my skin.
Good alpha,my omega purred.Gentle. Ours.
"Thank you." Jin-ho murmured against my hand, his breath warm on my fingers. "For hearing it. For understanding."
"That's literally my job." I said it lightly, trying to ease the intensity of the moment before it overwhelmed us both.
"No." Jin-ho shook his head, lowering our hands but not letting go, his thumb tracing circles on my palm. "Your job is lyrics. This is something else." His dark eyes held mine, and I saw everything he wasn't saying — all those feelings he'd learned to hide in music instead of showing on his face. We'd already talked about this, during our one-on-one. How we both hidbehind our craft. How we both understood each other in ways no one else did.
He leaned in slowly, giving me time to pull away. I met him halfway. The kiss was soft. Unhurried. Nothing like the desperate intensity of our first kiss in the studio days ago. This was something quieter — a conversation without words, an acknowledgment of everything we already knew about each other.
"Okay, we get it, you're having a moment." Tae-min's voice broke through from the couch, teasing but fond, laced with amusement. "Some of us are trying to game over here. Keep the PDA to a minimum." Jin-ho pulled back with a quiet huff of laughter, but he didn't look embarrassed — just soft around the edges in a way I was beginning to realize was reserved for pack. For me.
"You're the one who wanted to be here." Jin-ho pointed out, turning to face Tae-min with one eyebrow raised, his voice dry.
"I wanted to hang out." Tae-min corrected, his fingers still moving rapidly over his Switch controls, not looking up from the screen, his tongue poking out slightly in concentration. "I didn't sign up for front row seats to the Jin-ho Feelings Hour."
"The Jin-ho Feelings Hour?" Hwan repeated, delighted, sitting up with a grin that threatened to split his face. "Is that what we're calling it? I love it. Very accurate."
"It's not—" Jin-ho started, a faint flush coloring his cheeks, spreading down to his neck.
"It absolutely is." I interrupted, finding myself grinning despite my best efforts to keep a straight face. "You literally just played me a song about your feelings and then kissed me. That's textbook Feelings Hour content."
Jin-ho's flush deepened, but he was fighting a smile, his eyes bright with suppressed amusement. "I regret letting any of youin here." Jin-ho muttered, but there was no heat in it, only fondness poorly disguised as exasperation.
"No you don't." Hwan said cheerfully, bouncing off the couch to drape himself over Jin-ho's shoulders from behind, his arms wrapping around the older man's chest. "You love us. You wrote a whole song about it."
"The song is about her." Jin-ho protested, but he didn't shake Hwan off, just sat there with his packmate hanging off him like an oversized golden retriever.
"The song is about finding your missing piece." Hwan corrected, his chin resting on Jin-ho's shoulder, his eyes meeting mine with knowing warmth. "And yeah, she's the center of it. But we're all in there. The harmonies at the end? That's all of us, hyung. All of us finding her together."
Jin-ho was quiet for a moment, something shifting in his expression — surprise, maybe, at being understood. Then he reached up and patted Hwan's arm where it was draped across his chest.
"When did you get so perceptive?" Jin-ho asked, his voice soft with reluctant affection, his head tilting slightly toward Hwan.
"I've always been perceptive." Hwan declared, pressing a smacking kiss to Jin-ho's cheek before releasing him, bouncing back on his heels. "You all just underestimate me because I'm pretty."
"No one underestimates you." I said, surprising myself with the firmness in my voice, the words coming out stronger than I intended. "Your brightness isn't a mask for emptiness. It's a choice. You choose to bring light into every room because you know how much darkness there can be."
Hwan went still, his eternal smile faltering for just a moment into something more real, more raw, his golden eyes wide with surprise.
