Chapter Text
The scent of antiseptic clung to the walls.
Felix stood in the locker room, clutching the pale-blue scrubs between his fingers. They were soft, new, standard-issue, but the color comforted him. His favorite color and shade. Something about that soft blue reminded him of the sky back home in Australia, of ocean foam and quiet, open places. Places far from the polished, sharp-edged world of this city hospital.
He exhaled, slow and steady. Suppressants coursed through his system, dulling the edge of his scent like a heavy, invisible blanket. He could feel the faint sweet chemical tang of it coating his throat, a taste he’d long gotten used to. He’d taken the higher dose this morning, stronger than usual. He couldn’t risk his scent slipping through today. Not on his first shift.
Felix pulled the shirt over his head, letting the soft fabric settle against his skin. The light blue looked good against his light golden skin tone, but that wasn’t why he liked it. He liked the way it softened his reflection. Made him feel less like he had to fight.
He caught his own gaze in the mirror across the locker room. Brown eyes, clear and calm. At least outwardly. Inside, his pulse betrayed him.
Breathe Lix, you’ve got this.
He adjusted the collar of the scrub top with steady fingers, straightening invisible creases. His heart thudded louder than necessary.
Felix was used to people staring at him. That wasn’t new. "Pretty" wasn’t always a compliment. Especially not for a male Omega. Too pretty, too soft, too easy to underestimate. The last hospital he worked at taught him that. He wasn’t here to look good. He was here to prove himself.
His ID badge felt heavier than it should when he clipped it onto his pocket. "Lee Felix, RN." Simple and clean.
He’d worked hard for this. Nights studying until his vision blurred, hours of clinicals while Alphas loomed over his soulder. Some of them judging before he opened his mouth. He was good at his job. He knew that. He’d seen patients smile in relief just because he spoke softly to them. He’d held lives in his hands and carried that weight without breaking. Today wouldn’t be different. But…this hospital was a lot bigger. Busier and harsher.
He ran his fingers through his light blonde hair. Soft, golden strands settling naturally. Many Omegas didn’t dye their hair to avoid even more attention. Felix didn’t care. It wasn’t stubbornness. People noticed him anyway. Might as well let them. Let them look. Just don’t give them anything to talk about.
The door swung open suddenly behind him. Felix’s shoulders tensed instinctively before he forced himself to relax. Two Betas strolled in, laughing at some private joke. Neither of them noticed him at first. Then one of them glanced his way.
The moment stretched.
Felix could feel it - the assessment. The flicker of curiosity. The barely-there lift of eyebrows. He kept his expression neutral and professional. He turned back to the mirror, ignoring the familiar burn of their attention. Suppressants masked his scent, but not his presence.
“You new?” one of them asked finally, casual.
Felix nodded once, eyes meeting the Beta’s in the reflection. “First shift.”
The nurse gave a non-committal grunt and turned back to his coworker. Conversation resumed, softer this time.
Felix finished tying his drawstring pants, tucking away the last edge of vulnerability. He didn’t owe anyone an explanation. Not today. He stepped past them with measured ease. He knew how to move like confidence. If he moved like it long enough, maybe it’d start feeling real.
The corridor smelled cleaner than the locker room. Soft like disinfectant and sterile air. Felix walked with his head high, ID badge bouncing lightly against his chest.
Floor 3. General and internal medicine.
He found the nurses’ station easily enough. A curved desk manned by two nurses already mid-shift, papers and digital tablets stacked in organized chaos.
The older nurse looked up first. Her scent was neutral. Beta. “You must be Lee” she said, scanning him. Her tone wasn’t warm but not unkind. It was professional. “Felix?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’re early.”
“I wanted to be.”
A beat of silence. Then, a nod of approval and a smile. “I’m Nurse Choi. Charge nurse for this wing. You’re with me today.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Lose the ‘ma’am.’ We’re coworkers now.”
Felix felt something ease inside him.
“Yes…Nurse Choi.”
She didn’t smile, but he thought her voice softened slightly as she turned toward the patient board. “Good. You’re assigned to Room 312 to 315 for the morning. Elderly post-op, stable. Nothing complicated. Follow the charts. If you don’t know something, ask.”
“I will.”
She glanced back at him once. “Suppressed?”
Felix’s throat tightened. But he nodded. “Yes.”
“Alright.” No reaction. No comment. Just clinical acknowledgment. “If your scent starts leaking, report to medical immediately. You’re not the only Omega here of course so we’re prepared.”
He forced himself to breathe past the flush rising to his cheeks. “Understood.”
Nurse Choi clipped a file shut, gesturing for him to follow.
Felix stepped into motion, quiet steps behind her. His heart steadied. He could do this. Suppressants or not. Looks or not. He was here to work and work didn’t care what his biology was.
Not yet knowing that somewhere, up on Floor 5, was a certain Alpha surgeon who had the attention of the whole hospital.
The fluorescent lights overhead hummed faintly as Felix followed Nurse Choi through the maze of pale corridors. His sneakers squeaked softly against the polished floor, a small sound swallowed by the endless beeping of monitors and the low murmur of staff conversation. This hospital felt different from his old clinic. Much bigger, colder and faster.
“Here” Nurse Choi said, pausing at Room 312.
Felix swallowed once, nodded, and checked the chart. Elderly patient. Post-appendectomy. Vitals stable. Straightforward. He could handle that.
He knocked softly before entering, the automatic smile curving his lips before he could stop it. Inside, a older woman lay in bed, hooked up to an IV, her face pinched in discomfort. The sterile smell was stronger here like plastic tubing, disinfectant wipes and human vulnerability
“Good morning, Mrs. Park” Felix said gently, approaching the bed. “I’m Felix, your nurse today. I’m just here to check your IV and make sure you’re comfortable.”
The woman blinked at him, bleary but alert enough to frown slightly. “New one.”
Felix smiled a little more. “Is that okay?”
“Hm. Pretty boy nurse. Thought only Betas worked here.”
Felix’s smile faltered for half a second before he forced it steady. He glanced at her IV line carefully, checking for swelling or redness. “I’m good at what I do, Mrs. Park” he said softly, keeping his tone professional, not defensive. “I promise.”
The patient watched him for a long moment before turning her head slightly, offering her arm in silent permission.
Felix worked silently after that, fingers gentle as he cleaned the IV site, monitored the drip rate, adjusted her pillows. He was used to stares. Used to assumptions. He’d let his work speak louder.
After fifteen minutes, Mrs. Park’s expression softened. When he turned to leave, she whispered just loud enough for him to catch.
“Still too pretty.”
Felix smiled to himself this time.
By mid-morning, his shift settled into rhythm. The sharp edge of his anxiety dulled beneath the comfort of routine: checking vitals, logging charts, speaking softly to patients who looked at him like they weren’t sure whether to flirt or scold him. Most didn’t care what he was. Most just wanted someone to treat them kindly. He could do that.
It wasn’t until break that the tension returned.
Felix sat alone in the staff cafeteria, a single bowl of rice porridge in front of him, steam curling in soft wisps. He ate slowly, methodically, trying to focus on the food and not on the way eyes kept flickering toward him from across the room. His tray felt too large. The empty seat beside him felt even larger.
He was used to this too. Suppressants dulled his scent but not the fact that he was new. Not the way his light golden hair caught the harsh lights. Not the quiet question people asked silently Omega?
He was halfway through his meal when he heard them. Two nurses at a table nearby. Betas, mid-conversation, voices lowered but not enough.
“-you heard about Dr. Hwang this morning?”
Felix’s spoon paused mid-air.
“No. What now?”
“He snapped at that cardiologist again. I swear, no one survives a full week without getting on his blacklist.”
Felix kept eating, but slower now, ears attuned.
“Honestly, the way he looks at people, like he can see inside your head.”
“Scary Alpha.”
“Alpha?” the other snorted softly. “Alpha’s not the word. He’s a predator. No wonder people keep saying he’s unbonded. Who’d want to deal with that arrogance?”
Felix stirred his porridge, silent.
“Still. Handsome, though. And hot.”
“That doesn’t matter if he’s going to rip your head off for breathing wrong.”
“True.”
The nurses’ conversation shifted to gossip about weekend plans, but Felix’s thoughts remained behind.
Dr. Hwang...
He hadn’t heard the name yet, but the weight of it lingered like static electricity in the air.
An Alpha. A surgeon.
Felix set down his spoon carefully. He didn’t like the word predator. But he knew better than most that sometimes, a name was just a name. Reputations were built on fear as easily as fact.
I’ll probably never meet him anyway.
He thought. Yet as he finished his porridge in silence, Felix felt something settle heavy in his chest..and curiosity. What he didn’t know yet, is that he’d just heard the name of someone who was going to change everything.
The porridge was long gone. Felix held his spoon absently now, more out of habit than hunger. The words he overheard still echoed, a rhythm he couldn’t shake.
Predator. Blacklist. Dr. Hwang.
He told himself he didn’t care. He wasn’t here for hospital politics. But something about the quiet weight of that name stuck with him.
Lost in thought, he didn’t notice the approaching footsteps until a tray slid onto the table across from him. Felix blinked up, startled.
“Hey. This seat free?”
A voice. Bright, casual, confident. Not aggressive. Just curious.
Felix’s first instinct was to say no, to keep to himself like usual. But the stranger was already settling in, dropping into the seat with a casual sprawl, cramming a bite of his sandwich into his mouth like he owned the entire cafeteria.
Felix just nodded, too surprised to say anything.
“Cool. Thanks.” The guy chewed enthusiastically, then extended a hand across the table mid-bite. “Han Jisung. Nurse. Radiology station, downstairs”
Felix hesitated. Then, cautiously, he reached out and shook the offered hand.
“Felix” he said softly. “General medicine. Sometimes emergency.”
Jisung’s smile stretched wide, boyish and easy. His dark hair was slightly messy, and his hunter green scrubs looked like he’d slept in them, but his energy was electric. “I know. I figured.”
Felix blinked. “You…figured?”
Jisung shrugged, swallowing his bite. “You’re new. I saw you sitting here by yourself. Figured you’re either really shy or trying to act cooler than you are.”
Felix’s mouth opened, stunned. “…I’m not trying to act cool.”
“Mm. Good. ‘Cause you’re not.”
Felix actually laughed - quiet, but real. It surprised him.
Jisung grinned like that was the point. “Seriously though” he continued between bites, “everyone was talking about you.”
Felix’s smile faded. “Oh.”
“Don’t worry. Mostly good things.” Jisung paused, squinting at him playfully. “Though one of the admin Betas did call you ‘the one who looks like an idol.’”
Felix sighed, shaking his head softly. “I’m used to that.”
“You shouldn’t have to be.” Jisung’s tone softened, losing its teasing edge. “People shouldn’t care about what you look like.”
Felix looked up, surprised again.
Jisung just smiled. A little quieter. A little more genuine. “I get it” he said softly, tone still casual but eyes serious. “People notice me too.”
Felix’s gaze flicked over him, skeptical.
“Not for the same reason” Jisung admitted with a small grin, “but still. People notice.”
For the first time all day, Felix felt something loosen inside him. He sat back slightly in his chair. “…Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
For a moment, they just sat like that, the quiet buzz of the cafeteria filling the silence between them. Jisung resumed eating without ceremony, like they’d been friends for years. Felix found himself relaxing more than he expected. Then, cautiously, he asked.
“Hey…can I ask something?”
Jisung looked up, chewing. “Shoot.”
“That doctor. The one everyone’s been talking about.”
Jisung’s expression shifted, amusement flickering. “Which one?”
“Dr. Hwang.”
Jisung froze mid-bite, then snorted softly. “Oh.”
Felix tilted his head. “Oh?”
“You’ve already heard about him?”
Felix shrugged slightly. “People won’t stop talking.”
Jisung leaned back, glancing around conspiratorially before dropping his voice just a little. “Dr. Hwang Hyunjin.”
Felix let the name settle in his mind. “Is he really that bad?”
Jisung hesitated. Then shrugged. “Depends who you ask.”
Felix frowned.
“Look…” Jisung lowered his sandwich, suddenly more serious. “He’s…complicated. People say he’s arrogant. Some say worse. Honestly? I don’t know. Not many people talk to him, except for the ones in higher positions”
“Why?”
“He doesn’t let them.”
Felix blinked at that.
Jisung gave a small, crooked smile. “He’s not rude. Not openly. But he’s…closed off. Like, completely. Works alone. Eats alone. Leaves the moment his shift ends. You can feel it, you know? The whole don’t come near me thing.”
Felix processed that quietly. “Maybe he’s just private.”
“Maybe” Jisung allowed. “But Alphas like him? People expect just dominance and control. Not distance.”
Felix felt a chill trace his spine.
“Anyway” Jisung said, suddenly brightening again, “you’ll probably never meet him. He works mostly in surgery. Doesn’t hang around our floor often.”
Felix’s stomach twisted, unexplainably. “…Right.”
“Exactly. Forget about him.” Jisung grinned, stabbing a piece of fruit from his tray. “Focus on surviving your first week.”
Felix smiled, smaller this time. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For sitting here.”
Jisung blinked. Then his grin softened. “Anytime, Felix.”
The day had been long.
Longer than Felix expected.
He peeled off his gloves and tossed them into the waste bin, his shoulders sagging the moment he stepped out of his last patient’s room. The hallways were quieter now, the usual chaos of the day-shift fading as the hospital transitioned into evening mode. Monitors still beeped softly in the background, but most voices had lowered, like even the walls were winding down.
He’d made it. First full shift. No major mistakes. No breakdowns. But damn, he was tired and his eyes stung from staring at screens and chart notes for the better part of ten hours. He should be proud. Accomplished. And somewhere deep inside, he did. But mostly…he felt exhausted.
The building was beginning to quiet. The rush of visiting hours had ended. Night shift nurses were beginning to arrive. The bright, busy day-shift noise dulled to a low, pulsing hum.
Dragging his feet down the corridor, Felix rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn. He glanced out the long stretch of windows near the stairwell and saw the sun sinking behind the city skyline, casting the clouds in streaks of gold and soft violet.
Damn. It’s already this late?
The locker room was thankfully empty when he got there. Felix moved automatically, tugging his scrub top over his head, folding it neatly, and placing it into the hospital laundry bin. He dressed back into his civilian clothes. A comfy gray hoodie, black jeans, cool sneakers. Pale blue traded for soft gray. He was himself again. Not “Nurse Lee.” Just Felix. He brushed a hand through his hair and caught sight of his reflection in the mirror above the sinks. Tired eyes. Hair coming loose from the tidy style he’d forced it into that morning. Still, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. First shift survived. No fires. No angry supervisors. A new friend. A few smiles from patients. He could do this.
He pulled his bag over one shoulder and hurried down the stairwell, skipping the elevator to make better time. If he missed the 6:15 bus, he’d have to wait another 40 minutes. The hallway on the first floor was mostly empty now, bathed in fluorescent light. Felix jogged lightly toward the ground floor exit, the echo of his steps chasing him down the polished floor. He was almost at the turn toward the main lobby when he turned the corner fast. Too fast.
Wham
Felix slammed into something solid, someone, and stumbled back two steps, nearly losing his footing. A sharp inhale caught in his throat. The impact was firm. Like hitting a wall that moved. “Shit-!” The curse slipped out before he could stop it. Pure habit. Australian English, quick and raw.
His heart skipped a beat. Then, eyes wide, he slapped his hand over his mouth, immediately horrified. “Oh my god..I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking, I-”
He dipped into a quick bow, flustered and burning with embarrassment. It wasn’t until he straightened that he really saw the man he’d collided with. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark scrubs. Sharp features. Eyes cold but calm. There was a stillness about him, like something coiled just beneath the surface, waiting to strike. His gaze was steady, unreadable, and entirely unbothered by being crashed into. He looked like he walked straight out of a men’s magazine.
Felix’s breath caught slightly.
Alpha.
He knew without needing scent. There was an edge to this man’s posture, a kind of gravity that pressed into the space around him, commanding attention without asking for it. Felix’s omega instincts flared before he could clamp them down, sending a subtle shiver along his spine. Felix dared not meet his eyes for long. He’d seen that look before. It was commanding and curious. That edge of quiet authority that Alphas either used to protect, or possess.
Why does he feel so-
Felix tore his eyes away, pulse racing. “I’m really sorry” he muttered again, barely looking up. “Excuse me-”. Still flustered, he bowed slightly again, backing away with his heart thudding in his chest. He turned and walked away fast, his sneakers nearly skidding against the linoleum as he bolted down the corridor.
Great, he thought bitterly. Real smooth, Felix. Slam into an Alpha, swear in English, then flee like a coward. Perfect ending to the day.
He didn’t even see the name tag of the man. Didn’t want to. Didn’t dare.
Behind him, the Alpha had turned slightly, one foot angled toward where Felix had disappeared down the corridor. A new nurse, clearly. And an Omega.
Even beneath the heavy layer of suppressants, he’d caught the undertone, picked up the scent. The suppressant-laced scent was faint. Chemical. Distant. But underneath it lingered something sweeter, warmer. Like the scent of rain and powder trapped under too much cologne. A kind of raw softness that hadn’t been burned out yet. Hyunjin’s expression didn’t change, except for the faint curl of his lips. A smirk. Barely there.
Interesting.
Not many scents lingered on him. Never really caught his attention. Until now.
Hyunjin tilted his head slightly, gaze still fixed on the empty hallway. He didn’t get the nurse’s name, but somehow, he knew he’d be seeing that Omega again.
~♡~
The smell of antiseptic always settled heavier at night. Hyunjin liked it that way.
The hospital dimmed after 7 p.m. , lights lower, voices quieter, a strange stillness filling the sterile halls. Fewer people. Fewer interruptions. Fewer eyes.
He moved through the surgical ward like a shadow, tall frame draped in deep navy scrubs, stethoscope looped lazily around his neck. His hands were in the pockets of his lab coat, steps soundless, fluid. He didn’t need to walk fast. People automatically made room when they saw him coming.
They always did.
He’d just reviewed the night’s schedule. Two consults, one minor emergency appendectomy, and a possible trauma transfer from another hospital. Nothing too complicated. Just how he liked it. Precise and controlled. He didn’t need conversation. He didn’t care for small talk, but voices still trickled in from the nurses’ station as he passed.
“…blonde one, right? In general medicine?”
“Yeah, I saw him earlier. Super sweet and polite. And that face- like, I thought he was a model.”
“Honestly, he doesn’t even look like a nurse. He looks like he walked off a K-drama set.”
“Some patients were already asking if he’s single.”
Hyunjin slowed. Just a fraction of a step. He didn’t turn, just listened.
“You know who I mean. Lee Felix. Started today.”
Lee Felix.
His brow lifted ever so slightly. The name wasn’t familiar, but the description was. Hyunjin’s memory conjured the brief flash of light-blonde hair, wide brown eyes, a soft, flushed face looking up at him in panic before quickly bowing and scurrying off. The one who bumped into him outside the lobby hallway. Who cursed in English under his breath. That Omega.
Lee Felix, huh?
He turned his head slightly, as if catching the name on the air. So he was new. General medicine. Hyunjin’s senses hadn’t failed him. His scent, even masked under suppressants, had a specific lilt to it. Gentle, almost too pure for this building. He smelled...different.
Untouched. Unclaimed.
Hyunjin exhaled softly through his nose, no change in his expression. Just a flicker of interest. A quiet note in the otherwise blank score of his night. He didn’t pause long. He never did. But as he walked toward the OR prep wing, the name echoed faintly in his mind.
Felix... It tasted soft. Gentle on the tongue. Too delicate for a place like this.
~♡~
The surgical ward at night was quiet.
Not dead, this was a hospital, after all, but hushed. The chaos of the day dissolved into a sort of still, methodical rhythm. The nurses spoke in low tones. The halls echoed less. Machines beeped, heart monitors blinked, but even the emergencies arrived slower, as if time itself stretched between 10 p.m. and sunrise.
Hyunjin sat alone in the back corner of the staff lounge, long legs crossed, fingers tapping lightly at the keyboard of the station computer. Most of the staff had already gone home or moved on to their tasks, and no one disturbed him unless absolutely necessary. He preferred it like that, too. He'd earned a reputation that worked in his favor. Brilliant and efficient. People didn’t expect warmth from him. They didn’t try to get too close. Most Alphas relished the attention their position brought. Hyunjin had spent the past two years dodging it. He'd turned down more propositions than he could count. Smiles from nurses, doctors, admin staff, even patients. Betas, Omegas, even a few bold Alphas. So many tried to flirt with him. It never interested him.
Until earlier. He hadn’t meant to think about it again. But he did. That boy. That Omega. The one who ran straight into him like a gust of wind and cursed in fluent English before realizing he’d crashed into an Alpha.
Lee Felix.
Hyunjin pulled up the hospital's internal system and typed in the name. There were no rules against checking files. It wasn’t like he was digging into private medical records. Just the basics. Department, assignment, shift hours.
Lee Felix. RN. General Medicine. Omega. Assigned to Floor 3. Currently in 6-week training rotation.
Male omega nurses were rare in this building. Not unheard of, but certainly not common. Hyunjin’s eyes lingered on the line that confirmed it: Omega - Suppressed.
He knew it.
Even through the chemical mask of suppressants, he’d caught it. That scent. Muted, but undeniably present. Fresh.
He leaned back slightly, eyes flicking over the file one last time. Their shifts overlapped almost entirely. That made his brow twitch. He wasn’t sure why that detail pleased him more than it should’ve.
He clicked out of the file without a word, fingers returning to idle taps across the keys, though his mind had wandered far from work.
Definitely Interesting.
By the time Felix made it back to his apartment, he felt like a human puddle. His head buzzed with low-grade exhaustion, and he barely had the energy to lock the door behind him before dropping his bag onto the floor.
He kicked off his shoes with a soft groan and padded barefoot to the bathroom, stripping off layers of city dust and hospital air as he went. The shower steamed up quickly, fogging the mirror and warming his aching muscles. He stood under the water longer than necessary, letting it run over his shoulders, washing away the scent of antiseptic, latex gloves, and fluorescent fatigue. For a moment, he just…breathed.
No noise. No eyes on him. Just the quiet rhythm of water and his own heartbeat.
When he stepped out, he dried off slowly, blow dried his hair, and tugged on a loose cotton shirt and pajama shorts before flopping face-first onto his bed. The sheets smelled fresh, like lavender detergent and home. His body relaxed, but his mind didn’t.
That Alpha.
Felix frowned into the pillow, then rolled onto his back, arms splayed across the mattress.
Why am I still thinking about him?
It wasn’t even a proper meeting. It had been seconds, barely long enough to count. And yet, the memory of it clung to his senses like humidity. That face, those eyes. Still, and unreadable. Something about him had made every hair on Felix’s neck stand on end…but not in fear. In something else. Curiosity? No, it wasn’t just that. It was the way the air around him felt thicker and charged. Like a current under the skin. Like he didn’t need to speak to make you listen.
Alpha. Definitely.
Felix wasn’t the type to obsess over Alphas. He didn’t even like them, half the time. Got hit on by too many. But this one…
There’d been no aggression. No smirk. No flirtation. Just presence. Commanding and wordless.
Felix’s cheeks flushed against the pillow. Was he a doctor? He hadn’t looked at the name tag. He’d barely managed not to trip over himself as he ran off. Great first impression. He groaned softly and rolled over again, dragging a pillow over his face.
Idiot.
Still the Alpha was handsome. Undeniably so. The kind of handsome that made your stomach flip for no reason at all.
He stared at the ceiling, one arm folded over his chest.
Tomorrow, he’d forget about it.
Probably.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
But deep down, he had a feeling, that wasn’t the last time he’d see him.
