Fandom: infinite + ukiss, block b, etc.
Word count: ~1100 (incomplete)
Summary: Lee Howon has long accepted his life as a Beta, at the bottom of South Korea's social class. However, the government gives him and his family an opportunity to join the Alpha class, through the Omega Plan at Sanghwan Academy, but this chance isn't as wonderful as it seems.
A/N: didnt get too far on this one (havent touched it since january)...even though i knew what was going to happen and everything. a lot of backstory & future planning went into this fic but i never got around to writing it hahaha, but again, feel free to ask! the endgame pairings are actually hoya/dongwoo, sungyeol/sungjong, and sunggyu/woohyun. i am particularly fond of how woogyu get together.
The itching of his tattoo wakes Howon up Sunday morning. He resists the urge to scratch and rolls over instead, peering at the 10:47 on the antique clock. Myungsoo is already awake, judging by the empty bed of rumpled blankets and a lopsided pillow, as well as the rummaging sounds from the bathroom; Howon hears him gargle and spit into the sink, and sits up when Myungsoo emerges. “Good morning,” he says, failing to suppress a wide yawn.
“Morning,” says Myungsoo, raking a hand through his now straightened hair. He pulls a plaid of shirt of blue, white, and black checkers over his t-shirt, his jeans sitting low on his hips to reveal a flash of boxer waistband when Myungsoo stretches his arms over his head, and Howon wonders whether Alphas only buy specific brands of underwear. Woohyun could probably tell him.
They go down to breakfast together, their last Sanghwan meal for a week—Myungsoo is flying back home in the afternoon but Howon leaves for Gangjeong a bit before lunch, which only makes him regret sleeping in. This will be the last time he sees the other Omegas for an entire week. After living at the school for so long, returning home will be a jarring experience, though hopefully not as difficult as adjusting to the Academy at the beginning of the year was, back in mid-September. With a start, Howon realizes three monthly exams means he has lived like an Alpha for three months, among other Omegas experiencing somewhat the same thing. His debt must be an endless tab of food and essentials and clothing, not to mention the exam styling and tattoo checking, but it has nothing on the cost of Woohyun’s daily fashion escapades. An Omega must be worth a fortune.
Dongwoo insists they go check out the South Hallway after they decide a snowball fight would too cold and too time-consuming for such a weighty day, and Howon agrees rather than say he’d rather make a dent in his week’s worth of homework. Sungjong fixes himself to Dongwoo’s side and they head along a familiar path.
The construction for the Level 3’s dance practice room is nearly finished, and Howon still isn’t sure whether the money spent so freely was worth it. A placard set up temporarily along the hallway connecting the music rooms and gyms around the construction zone promises the room will be the completed by the time the Omega’s return, to Dongwoo’s delight. He has not seen Hyukjae in weeks, but Howon still has not met Siwon. The internal promise he’ll do so after break seems week when Dongwoo turns to Howon with bright eyes, saying, “I can’t wait to start our dance classes again.”
Howon nods, a bit helplessly. “Me too,” he says, and he means it.
“We’ll still visit the Level 2 room, right?” Sungjong asks. “I want to dance with Kevin.”
“Of course,” Dongwoo says affectionately. “This is just a place of our own to dance, so we can stop being an inconvenience to them. It’ll be ours until we graduate the Academy and become Alphas. “He is as confident as ever, Howon notices.
Sungjong watches the construction works for a bit longer, pressed against the safety barrier. “That’ll be nice,” he decides, his voice quiet.
They continue down the hallway, catching a glimpse of Woohyun in the gyms, working out even now, and a figure in the art studio, sitting in front of an easel. As they pass, he looks up; Howon recognizes the simple, mild face—even with its frown—as Pyo, Zico’s backup and the artist Hoon shares the studio with. According to Hoon, Pyo goes by his last name to avoid confusion with Professor Jihoon.
Even now, Sunggyu is at the piano. Heavily marked and corrected papers are spread across the fact of the grand piano, and he plays in short bursts, a cascade split and jarred to a stop when he lifts a pencil to adjust an awkward spot. It’s fascinating to see him work; Sunggyu does not require any help from Jonghwan, who is seated by the curve of the grand piano and has his head propped on the smooth, black surface as he listens. Still, Sunggyu gladly takes his teacher’s suggestions.
Dongwoo and Sungjong invite themselves into Howon’s dorm room when they return to the East Hallway. Howon is only three-quarters finished with packing, unable to decide whether his uniforms deserve to be brought home, and still neglecting the task of gathering his utilities, such as his toothbrush and computer and textbooks. He will be taking all of his books home.
Bored of watching Howon walk into his bathroom to retrieve something, return to his bed where his open suitcase lies, and then store it away, Sungjong leaves with a cheerful farewell to prepare for his own departure, his flight set after Howon’s. He gives both Howon and Dongwoo hugs of goodbye, the tiny, vulnerable body pressing close for a few grateful moments, and Howon inhales the warm, clean scent Sungjong carries in hopes it’ll help him remember the boy until they reunite.
By the time Howon is completely packed, Dongwoo has almost dozed off within Howon’s blankets. “It smells kind of like you,” Dongwoo says with a sleepy smile, wrapping Howon’s thick comforter around his shoulders.
Howon drags his suitcase to the doorway and then sits down next to Dongwoo on the bed, flushing with pleasure when Dongwoo throws the blanket over his shoulders to include him in the warm cocoon. Huddled so close, staring out at the snow fall outside, Howon can’t help but lean into Dongwoo’s shoulder and feel as if his body is dragging Dongwoo’s body and its warmth into itself, as if their cells are intermingling for survival and the almost-magnetic pull that has Howon gravitating to the luminosity of Dongwoo’s smile, meshing and tangling and locking Jang Dongwoo and Lee Howon together. As if their week apart will be years and years long, as if they’ll forget each other’s touch if they don’t take everything in now. Their wrists brush ever so slightly and Howon shivers.
“Are you cold?” Dongwoo asks in concern, tugging the blanket more snugly around them.
“I’m fine,” Howon answers. Sanghwan is never cold, but Dongwoo is the best kind of insurance.
They sit quietly next to each other for a while, Howon trying to hold onto everything he can in this moment. Trying to hold onto Dongwoo and his warmth and his hands and his smile, because it’ll be over a hundred