Archive of Our Own ^omega

The only thing that Jeongin knows is fire. A scorching, all-consuming heat clawing at his insides, aching and empty. 

So terribly empty.

He’s burned through his medication as easily as if it were ice left out to melt in the searing desert, just like his doctor had warned him he would. Through the hazy fever and the debilitating stomach cramps, he is peripherally aware of his older brother Minho caring for him, bringing him water for his parched throat, changing the cold compress on his forehead. His calming omega scent of jasmine tea and glazed sugar does more for Jeongin than any other effort to make him feel better, but the improvement is still abysmal compared to the raging inferno that has taken residence inside him.

“Just wait a bit more. He’s almost here,” Jeongin thinks he hears Minho say before the older omega leaves his room again. But a cramp stronger than all previous ones wrecks through him, making him stop breathing until it eases, springing burning tears to his eyes.

The blinds are down and the windows are tightly shut, an attempt at keeping the nauseatingly sweet heat smell contained. 

Because Jeongin, at the ripe age of twenty-two, many years later than the average, is presenting. 

As an omega.

Being a late presenter already put him at risk of a harsh presenting heat, but they’d caught it too late that even the doctor had recommended avoiding suppressants at all costs, or else it may harm his system for the rest of his life. 

His only option? To power through it.

Although currently, Jeongin is doubting he’ll make it out of this alive.

He’s so out of it he hasn’t really processed who his brother was referring to when Minho comes back into the room, bringing back with him his calming floral scent. Jeongin breathes heavily, clutching the sheets as he dreads the next onset of awful cramps.

“Hey,” Minho says, softly, nearing Jeongin on the bed. “I need you to sit up for me just a bit. Can you do that, Innie?”

Jeongin wants to cry at the mere thought of moving, but his brother is already helping him up. So he tries to do his best and order his body to go along, whining softly at his flaring nerves and cramping stomach.

“I know, I know,” Minho soothes, sliding onto the bed behind Jeongin and prompting him to rest against his torso. Jasmine tea engulfs Jeongin, soothing him, like cooling water against throbbing burns. However, it’s only on a shallow level, since the roaring fire in his belly seems to have no way of abating. “You did so well, waiting. But now everything will be fine, okay Innie?”

Unlike Jeongin, Minho is a normal omega, which means he presented at age fourteen and gradually became used to all the changes it entailed. Starting with heats that were no more than a sneeze, and slowly increasing in intensity onto full fledged heats from mature omegas.

It won’t be like that for Jeongin, though. He won’t have any acclimating period, he won’t have any light or tentative heats. No, in his case, his first heat will also be the worst, with his body thrown off-kilter and trying to compensate for all the missed cycles until now.

Jeongin is vaguely aware that Minho asked him a question, but his mind is too muddled to interpret it or think of an answer. Apparently, he wasn’t waiting for one anyways, because he calls out a “Come in,” before Jeongin has mustered enough braincells to reply.

The scent is the first thing Jeongin notices. Beyond his brother’s calming jasmine, beyond his own clogging heat scent of tonka and spun sugar… Pine, and smoke, and ocean. An alpha’s scent.

No, not just an alpha.

His brother’s alpha’s scent.

Chan comes into Jeongin’s field of view a second later, and even through his blurry sight Jeongin still can make out the strong, firm build of the only man who pursued Lee Minho and emerged victorious.

The raging thoughts in Jeongin’s head caused by the fever quieten at the alpha scent, and he can only watch dazedly as Chan nears the bed, where Jeongin is resting, his back against Minho. Instinctively, alarm bells sound in Jeongin’s head as Chan climbs the bed, his omega nest now, technically, even if Jeongin had no knowledge or energy to touch the piled blankets and pillows that his brother left for him on his desk. Jeongin rears back, a broken whimper leaving his throat at the unexpected presence of the alpha at such a vulnerable moment. But his brother is there, holding him so he can’t retreat, can’t hide, can’t avoid this.

“He’s still in the burning phase,” Minho says, apparently to Chan, who nods while still keeping a safe distance from the two omegas. “The doctor said an alpha’s pheromones may help him reach the heat proper.”

Jeongin is still struggling, against his brother, against the burning pain and the debilitating cramps threatening to return in full force in a matter of moments. Weak as he is, he can’t really do anything against Minho’s firm hold, but he keeps struggling out of pure instinct. He doesn’t know how an alpha scent can help with his heat when the only thing he knows is fever and pain.

Seemingly done with keeping an appropriate distance, Chan sits in front of them and takes Jeongin’s hands, first one, then the other, easily holding them in a grip that’s somehow both strong and incredibly gentle. Jeongin blinks without understanding, his senses zeroed in on the warm restraint on his wrists. Chan shifts his hold so that he can capture both his hands with just one of his, easily achieved by the sheer size of him. A whine escapes Jeongin’s lips, because of the pain, and because he doesn’t know what’s going on, why Minho brought his boyfriend here, now.

“It’s okay, Jeonginnie,” Chan whispers, shifting his free hand forward to comb back Jeongin’s sleep-ruffled hair. “It’s okay. You’ll feel better in no time.”

Jeongin wants to call out the lie for what it is, wants to ask what Chan is doing, on his bed, grabbing him, touching him at all. But the caress over his scalp returns, again and again, and when Jeongin takes in his next breath, the air is full of pine and smoke. His eyelids flutter as his system takes in the calming alpha pheromones emanating from the scent gland on Chan’s wrist, brought so close with the excuse of brushing his hair.

Oh.

“That’s it. You’re doing so well,” Chan praises him, encouraging him to take more of his pheromones, scratching his scalp with light pressure.

A few of the knots of tension in Jeongin’s core ease. He shuts his eyes, his breathing becoming a bit easier.

Minho shifts behind Jeongin, but he’s too dazed to understand why he’s being pushed straighter, more forward. Until the mattress dips in front of him and suddenly he’s being taken into Chan’s arms. Jeongin makes a small questioning sound, his brain too slow and cottony to catch up. A few beats too late, he tries to push him back, tries to stay away from his brother’s boyfriend. But his remaining strength is akin to a newborn fawn’s, his muscles pliant. Coupled with a pair of gentle hands that he’s certain belong to Minho, he’s helpless to fall into the alpha’s embrace. Chan’s frame is big, and warm, and so painfully welcoming. The alpha brings Jeongin close enough to sit on his lap and cradles his feverish body with his arms.

A big but gentle hand dexterously guides Jeongin’s face to the crook of Chan’s neck, and Jeongin’s next breath is earth shatteringly wonderful, like a balm on the raw skin left behind by the ravaging heat. If he thought Chan’s scent was nice from a distance, it can’t compare to this. He clutches Chan’s sides, desperately breathing in the divine alpha scent. The tension in his core dissipates, and he sags against the firm alpha body, in relief and exhaustion.

“That’s it, Innie. Just relax for a bit, okay? Let Chan make you feel better,” Minho whispers, stroking his back encouragingly.

Jeongin lets out a soft whine but does as he’s told, burying himself deeper, seeking the scent directly from the gland on Chan’s neck.

Even though he has a good relationship with Minho, the truth is that he barely knows Chan. He has seen him a grand total of two times, one of them being their first introduction and the only time they spoke directly. Of course he knows Chan. The man is a legend across the entire campus, everyone knows him as the strongest and most capable alpha in miles. And as much as Jeongin thought that Chan was handsome and attractive when they first met in person, he also knew how much of a not-an-option he was. His brother’s boyfriend, no less. Few people were more off limits than that.

Which is why never, in his wildest dreams, he would have ever imagined being in a situation as intimate as scenting this alpha.

Minho leaves the bed with one last soothing stroke of Jeongin’s back, padding softly around the room before coming back to the scenting pair.

“Can you drink this for me, Innie? It’s just a sports drink. It’ll make you feel better, trust me,” Minho encourages, and Jeongin lifts his head just enough to peer at said bottle.

Jeongin drinks in the liquid, feeling cool and heavenly on his parched throat, and avidly takes more of it until he’s nearly emptied the bottle.

Throughout his drinking, Chan caresses the nape of his neck carefully. The touch is light enough that it’s not a proper scruffing, but it’s a near thing, and Jeongin shivers at having this unknown—to him—alpha caress such a vulnerable place with such familiarity.

“Good. You did great, Innie,” Minho praises, kissing the top of his head and as he leaves the bottle on his bedside table.

The alpha redirects Jeongin’s nose to his scent gland once more, and his eyelids flutter closed as he takes in more pheromones. The fever is still persistent, but at least the worst of the pain seems to be gone for now.

“Does he have everything in here?” Chan asks, and Jeongin feels his soothing voice in the form of pleasant reverberations through his chest. 

“Yes. It’s all mine, so you’ll recognize everything easily,” Minho replies, and Jeongin just now notices that he hasn’t come back to join them on the bed yet.

“Good,” is all Chan replies, shifting under Jeongin, probably to find a more comfortable position.

Minho doesn’t come to the bed, but instead, he retreats to the door. Jeongin blinks through the cottony entanglement that are his thoughts.

“Don’t worry about anything, okay, Innie? Chan will help,” Minho says before stepping out of Jeongin’s room.

It dawns on Jeongin scant seconds later that his brother just left him alone in his room with an alpha.

While in heat.

The door closes behind Minho.

Every muscle in Jeongin’s body goes tense, the sensation of no, wrong, wrong, penetrating the haziness of his thoughts. But before he can try to push himself away from the alpha’s embrace, Chan applies the tiniest bit of pressure on his nape, exactly where he had been idly caressing for the past good while. The light scruffing melts away the entirety of Jeongin’s strength, relaxing all muscles and tendons as he falls back into Chan’s arms.

“Shhhh, it’s okay,” Chan mollifies Jeongin after he let out a small whine at being scruffed. “It’s okay, I’m just here to help you. Everything’s fine.”

Jeongin doesn’t understand how an alpha he doesn’t know can help with the nightmare that is becoming his heat. Or more like, he can, but it  can’t possibly be the only conclusion that his mind is coming to. He whimpers, his body trying to become distressed while Chan’s pheromones take the capability away.

“It’s okay. Don’t overthink it. For now, just let me scent you, okay? It should help with the initial pain,” Chan instructs, and Jeongin, still boneless from the scruffing, can do little more than close his eyes and listen to that gentle alpha voice.

It’s true about the pain, though. The horrible debilitating cramps are gone now. And although he still feels hot, most of the feverish, clammy sensation has dissipated as well.

And so, with no other viable option, Jeongin lets himself be embraced by his brother’s alpha, lets Chan scent him with pine and smoke. He breathes in from the hot skin of Chan’s throat, smooth and unmarked but still radiating alpha strength. If Jeongin were sound of mind he may even consider how good it feels, to rest in this position, to drink in the heady alpha pheromones. It probably has to do with his newly discovered omega subgender, because while he has smelled plenty of alphas in the past, this is the first time he has ever felt drawn by the scent, to the point he fears he could get drunk on it.

It’s strange because even after he surrendered completely, even after relaxing and breathing in his pheromones steadily, he keeps wanting to scent Chan, maybe even more than before. He shifts slightly closer to the alpha, repositioning his nose as close to the scent gland as he dares.

In a painful twist, the cramps are back, making Jeongin go rigid and his breath hitch. He pants through it, but another one follows a few seconds after. The cramps are different from before, less nauseating, but sharper. Jeongin whines in discomfort, greedily scenting more of Chan’s pheromones, chasing the relaxation that they so sweetly promised.

But for some reason, the effect they have this time is the opposite.

Another cramp hits him, longer than the others, and Jeongin grits his teeth. His eyes burn, and everything’s awful, just because of his stupid body—

“Let me,” Chan whispers, lowering his hands to Jeongin’s waist, where they slip beneath his oversized sleep shirt to pause on his lower back. “This should help.”

Jeongin’s breath stutters at the direct contact, but that doesn’t deter Chan. His fingers trace his lower back until he finds some spot around the zone of his back dimples, then they begin massaging in slow, firm circles, applying firm pressure. Immediately, like a doll hanging by their strings, Jeongin’s stomach unclenches, and he breathes out a harsh breath in relief. Chan keeps massaging those particular twin spots with both hands, easing Jeongin through the worst of this particular set of cramps, and the omega hums in begrudging appreciation.

He didn’t even know that massaging that spot could ease cramps. It’s a weird sensation, that a stranger can know his body so intimately well, even better than him.

While the cramps aren’t painful anymore thanks to Chan’s focused massage, the feeling they leave in their wake makes something coil inside Jeongin. There’s a certain tension, building low in his belly, and a certain feeling, rising from his chest, to his throat, to his head.

On his next breath, Chan smells different. Sweeter, maybe? Jeongin doesn’t know.

Chan must know though, because the shift in the scent seems to prompt him to move one of his hands away from his lower back, tracing the back of Jeongin’s arm until he reaches his wrist. He takes Jeongin’s smaller omega hand with infinite care, circling his wrist and placing his thumb over his pulse point. No, not over his pulse point. Over his scent gland.

The first press of Chan’s thumb on the newly active gland is a sweet combination of painful and electrifying. Jeongin jerks, instinctively trying to pull away from the jarring sensation. However, Chan is ready for him, a gentle graze of his fingers on Jeongin’s nape making him relax back down over the alpha.

Chan gently presses on the small wrist gland, rubbing circles over the slightly swollen skin. Jeongin sucks in a sharp breath at the bittersweet stimulation, eyelids fluttering as he lets it course through him. The omega mewls at the pain-pleasure that Chan is forcing on him, but he still can’t move, the alpha tenderly massaging his gland while lightly scruffing him just enough to keep him pliant. Slowly, the sensation in his core sharpens, tightens.

He knows what that sensation is now.

“Such a good omega,” Chan praises, not letting up the soft pressure on his gland, which is gradually melting into something less painful and more… arousing.

Just when Jeongin is about to let his eyelids slide shut, Chan switches to his other hand, applying the same attention to it. Knowing what’s about to come doesn’t make Jeongin more prepared for it, and he bites down on his lower lip to keep a moan from escaping at the rush of pain and pleasure from his other budding gland.

“You’re doing so well for me,” Chan whispers, his thumb pressing down on Jeongin’s wrist, making the omega’s vision go a bit blurry. “Don’t worry, hm? Everything will be fine,” he continues murmuring assurances.

At that moment, Jeongin feels grateful for the anchoring presence that is the alpha, helping him navigate the absolute unknown that is his presenting heat.

Even though he knows it’s not his alpha.

Satisfied with the glands on his wrists, Chan moves on to the ones on his neck. These ones are more painful, making Jeongin shut his eyes even through the scruffing Chan so expertly keeps applying on his nape. But the pleasure that comes after Chan melts the pain away is greater, too. This time, Jeongin can’t contain the small moan that leaves his lips, even if he has half a mind to be embarrassed over it. His eyes glaze over, staring unfocused at some point ahead.

“Such a pretty omega, aren’t you?” Chan praises him, continuing the firm circles on his neck glands.

Jeongin doesn’t really hear him, his attention turning inwards where the fever and pain are shifting, retreating like the tide before a tsunami. And when the waves come back, slowly, inexorably, he’s wholly unprepared for the raw sensation of want that comes with them.

Up until now, he hadn’t really understood why any omega would have any sexual urge during their heat, plagued as he was by uncomfortable pain and fever. But now, as an unfathomable hunger rises in his core, as his insides clench down on what he realizes now is utter emptiness, he finally understands.

He wishes he didn’t.

It’s too much, too soon, overwhelming the newly presented omega, who whines in distress at the sensations going haywire inside him. He shuts his eyes and tries to shift away, away from the alpha, from his body, from his own skin, as the foreign urge to mate threatens to consume and overtake him.

But of course, Chan doesn’t let him. He traps Jeongin in his arms, shackles him with his powerful alpha body, so that the only thing that Jeongin knows is Chan, pine, smoke, and want. Chan doesn’t scruff him this time, instead letting him ride it out, letting him fully experience and come to terms with this particular shift in his instincts. Jeongin’s core tenses, not in pain, but in sheer, bottomless desire. 

While this craving is not completely foreign to Jeongin, the intensity is nothing he’s ever felt before. To make it worse, his instincts seem to be latching onto the nearest alpha presence—his brother’s boyfriend.

It’s not right. It’s simply not right. Jeongin struggles, for himself, for Chan, to no avail. The alpha is too strong, his thick arms securely wrapped around his slimmer body keeping him pressed close. Sitting there on Chan’s lap, the only thing that his struggling achieves is accidentally rubbing himself on Chan’s crotch in the process. And worst of all, it feels good.

Jeongin stills, breathing shallowly, as the pleasure from the friction zings through his body. He can’t.

He can’t.

But it’s Chan who rolls his hips up next, the awakening hardness rubbing against Jeongin’s core in a wicked glide. Like a lit match kindling his endless pool of want, Jeongin moans as his body is jump-started into an instinctive back and forth against the alpha. It’s thrilling, but also scary, having another body, another person, moving with him. To feel the alpha’s power and strength below him, the vigor in how he rocks his hips up, slightly shifting Jeongin’s whole frame with the force. It makes Jeongin feel smaller even though he’s the one on top.

It’s a dance where both parties are giving and receiving pleasure, and Jeongin’s still in disbelief that he’s doing this with his brother’s alpha. However, Chan doesn’t seem to hold such reservations. He holds Jeongin through it, through the clenching of his core and thighs, through the poorly bitten down moans and breathy gasps, and through his clumsy hips seeking release the only way they know how.  

And, like this, his brother’s boyfriend holds him through his first orgasm as a newly presented omega.

Jeongin blinks, and blinks again, panting to recover his breath after the high. He feels like he needs a few moments to process everything. The pleasure. The company. But the release didn’t clear his mind, the heat’s haze still clouding his senses and feeding that fiery hunger.

“It’s okay. You’re doing so well, Jeonginnie,” Chan says into his hair, caressing the skin of his lower back where he’s still holding him close.

Jeongin doesn’t know Chan at all, yet he drinks up his praise like he’s a starved man, the words only adding to the warmth inside him. The smoke in Chan’s scent is more prominent now, and Jeongin seeks it, like a moth to a flame. Where everything is a mess of upturned beliefs and unthinkable circumstances, somehow the alpha scent is grounding, giving a sense of rightness that transcends any rationality.

The next time Jeongin’s hips shift, he’s rendered breathless by the feeling of what’s most definitely slick leaking down from him and soaking his underwear. It’s such a foreign feeling, and the undeniable truth of how he’s really, actually changed, of what’s happening here.

He’s not the only one who feels it.

Chan’s hips kick up, just once, like he can’t contain himself, groaning and burying his face on Jeongin’s neck. Hot puffs of breath from Chan’s heavy breathing hits his sensitive skin there. It’s heady, the knowledge that it was Jeongin who caused this alpha this kind of hunger. To feel wanted, even if it’s only their baser instincts coming into play, uncaring of how they’re basically strangers.

“Your slick smells so fucking good,” Chan rasps, and his teeth brush faintly against the skin of Jeongin’s neck as he speaks. Jeongin’s blood heats further, his senses coming awake at the hint of alpha canines in such a vulnerable spot.

Do I smell like my brother?

The thought crosses his mind, unbidden, the knowledge that this is something Chan must be used to doing with his brother. The notion that Jeongin is an acting replacement for the perfect omega that is Minho is hilarious. What’s not hilarious, however, is having his clearly experienced and more than capable boyfriend’s attention solely on him.

It’s scary. It’s thrilling.

It shouldn’t even be happening.

Chan undulates his hips, his erection dragging deliciously against Jeongin’s now slick-soaked front, like he’s trying to re-take what just happened between them.

“Wait— we shouldn’t…” Jeongin gasps, interrupted by his own moan after a wicked roll of Chan’s hips. “My brother…” he leaves the sentence unfinished, unable to form the damning words of their truth. Yet even as he tries to stop this, his mind goes crazy at the thought of this alpha going away, of Jeongin’s roaring need being unmet.

“Minho asked me to take care of you during your first heat,” Chan says, lifting one of his arms to brush away the strands from Jeongin’s forehead and look at his face. Jeongin can’t meet his eyes this close, looking instead at those damnedly shapely lips, cheeks burning. He doesn’t know if he’s relieved or horrified by Chan’s words. “I agreed. So let me do this, yeah?”

If Jeongin could think clearly, he would be wondering why on earth Chan would agree to help an omega he’s seen barely twice. But as it is, he can only shiver as a new wave of desire rises from inside him, silencing any thought other than want. His body clenches down on nothing, and the feeling is absolutely awful.

“Yeah, I know,” Chan pacifies him, rocking into the movements Jeongin has unconsciously been making. “I know what your body needs.”

Jeongin is wholly unprepared for when Chan pushes him backwards to the mattress, guiding him down with his big framed and thick body. Maybe it’s because he now has a barrier below him, making him feel completely caged by the alpha, but there’s something about the position that makes it unbearably intimate. He’s so caught up with this, and his thoughts are so fuzzy with the heat that he doesn’t realize what Chan’s doing until he’s slipped Jeongin’s pants completely off his body. 

“Wait, wha—mhmm!” Jeongin exclaims, his demand cut off by the feel of big, steady fingers stroking him over his underwear. 

His thighs instinctively try to clamp down around Chan’s torso, the only obstruction that’s keeping him from closing his legs shut. He’s wet, so fucking wet that Chan’s fingers glide easily up and down his seam.

Jeongin gasps. It feels so different from when he rubbed himself on Chan. Somehow it’s more intentional and, combined with how close Chan is, it’s entirely too much. Jeongin makes to stop the alpha, to grab his hand and halt its touch, but Chan takes it in stride. He grasps his hand, and then the other, and pins them over Jeongin’s head. As easy as breathing, not noticing or not caring that Jeongin’s trying his hardest to break free of his hold.

“Deny me all you want,” Chan says, looking down at him, so close Jeongin fears what he must be able to read on his face. “But there’s no way I’m leaving you alone for your first heat. The fever you felt before is nothing like what you’ll feel if no alpha helps you. So let me help you, yeah?”

Jeongin sucks in a breath at Chan’s words. His fingers tense, curling and uncurling, safely held down in the other’s grip. Is that it, then? This is really going to happen? He’s going to… sleep with Minho’s boyfriend? All because of his freak first heat? He’s going to—

The digits return, with Chan applying rhythmic pressure just above Jeongin’s entrance, and his spine arches on its own because of how good it feels. The actions make him release more slick, its scent so strong now that there’s barely any barrier. Before Jeongin can wonder if he could come just from this, Chan’s fingers slide up his cunt to pause over his clit, massaging once, twice, over the aroused bud. His legs kick out at the intense pleasure the touch elicits, a ragged whine leaving his lips as Chan’s fingers keep stroking the most sensitive spot in his body. The pleasure keeps rising, threatening to choke him, but Chan’s fingers stop.

Only to slide beneath his underwear.

Jeongin keens at the direct skin to skin contact, but Chan is relentless, brushing the hardened nub in tight circles, over and over. In no time at all, Jeongin’s muscles go taut as a new orgasm crashes over him, so intense he forgets everything for a handful of seconds.

“Love how sensitive you are, Jeonginnie,” Chan whispers over his clavicles, eyes closed to breathe in the scent of his orgasm.

It doesn’t make sense, because Jeongin just came, twice, but the need coiling low in his belly hasn’t abated one bit. It’s an urgency that makes him anxious, a need that clouds any and all thought. He doesn’t know how to voice this, the jumble that are his thoughts and how it’s overpowering his every muscle.

Chan’s fingers shift, brushing over Jeongin’s drenched lips, lower, until they reach the natural end of the curve and one finger sinks into him. The response is immediate, a moan tearing from his throat as he throws his head back. There’s a twinge of discomfort, but it feels so good that Jeongin forgets about it as soon as it’s over. 

This. This is exactly what he needs.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Chan curses, voice dark, such a contrast to his usual cheerful tone.

His finger retracts an inch before diving back in, and Jeongin is so wet that the glide is completely effortless. It feels divine already, but it’s not nearly enough. Now that the omega’s had a taste of being filled, he can’t go back, can’t stop.

“More,” Jeongin asks, voice small in the big space, unable to contain what his body so desperately needs.

“I know, I know,” Chan soothes him, placing a light kiss on his neck. “But I have to be careful, yeah? Don’t want to hurt you.”

Before Jeongin can complain that he’s hurting just because of having to wait, Chan adds a second finger. He’s slow to do so, but even though Jeongin’s soaking wet, the stretch sends a sharp throb of pain through him. Chan must read it in his face, or maybe he just knows to be careful, because he doesn’t move and instead gives Jeongin time to adjust, caressing his thigh. 

“You’ve done this before, yeah?” Chan checks with him, a dash of worry in his darkened eyes.

Jeongin shoves Chan’s face away in retaliation, but the alpha just huffs a laugh, and pins the offending hand back down to the bed.

“Okay, okay,” Chan concedes.

Jeongin tries his absolute best to keep his expression in check.

When Chan moves again, slowly bobbing his fingers in and out, the discomfort has disappeared, melted into the pleasure.

“That’s it. Let me make you feel good again,” Chan says, reaching to brush the omega’s clit with his thumb.

Jeongin gasps at the dual stimulation, his eyes falling closed at the multiplying pleasure. It’s like Chan knows exactly how much pressure to apply, the speed in which to circle the hardened bundle of nerves. Or maybe it’s because of his heat, because it seems like it’s only been seconds when Jeongin comes again, hard, around Chan’s fingers.

The alpha groans as Jeongin’s walls flutter around his cock in his orgasm.

“Gods, you’ll feel amazing around my knot, won’t you?” Chan says, leaving his clit alone but pushing his fingers in and out again, slowly. Jeongin whines at his words, although he’s not too sure if it’s in protest or in want of what Chan said. “I know, I know,” Chan soothes him, pushing his fingers a tiny bit deeper.

His heat slick is a huge help, making Chan’s work stretching him easier, preparing him for when he adds a new finger a few moments later. But even then, the stretch is almost too much to bear. Breathing becomes difficult, the sensation of fullness as wonderful as it is overwhelming.

And still, through it all, Jeongin wants more. He’s come more times in the handful of minutes it’s been since Chan came into his room than he’s ever come in a single day, but still, the desire is unabating, the hunger gnawing deep in his belly. It’s so disconcerting, this appetite so broad and foreign that tears begin blurring his vision.

“Oh, Jeongin, I’m sorry,” Chan tries to appease him, no matter that it’s not his fault that Jeongin’s broken body decided to present years past what would have been normal. “You’re doing so well for me. Everything will be fine soon, I promise.”

Jeongin doesn’t know Chan, but the words of the alpha soothe a bit of his frayed nerves. Everything’s definitely not fine. Starting at whatever made his body delay his presentation for so many years. And ending here, with his body punishing him for this delay. But at least Chan’s here, with him, to help him through it.

For the first time, he’s glad he won’t be alone.

When Chan slides his fingers out, Jeongin decides it’s a sensation he absolutely despises. Not only that, but his body, now empty again, cramps up so painfully that Jeongin has to bite his lip so hard he thinks he might draw blood trying to contain the whine of pain.

“Shit. Sorry. Let me just—” Chan quickly apologizes, rising to rest against his heels.

He’s incredibly careful when he hooks his fingers on Jeongin’s underwear and takes it off, leaving him completely bare to Chan, only his oversized t-shirt covering his upper body. In turn, the alpha removes his pants and underwear, revealing his hard cock. It’s flushed red, its tip gleaming, and big, so big to Jeongin’s eyes that for the first time that night the omega is glad to be in heat. Otherwise, he might start to freak out at the sight of Chan’s cock and the frightening certainty of what’s about to happen.

That this is Minho’s boyfriend.

Chan’s half-nakedness, to Jeongin’s chagrin, doesn’t take away from the alpha’s overall allure. On the contrary. Bang Chan is arrestingly handsome on a bad day, and seeing him, in Jeongin’s bedroom, stroking a hand up and down his hard cock… A kind of want that’s entirely personal and most probably not derived from the heat rises inside him. 

As Chan comes back to his previous position above him, Jeongin brushes aside those thoughts. 

This is Minho’s boyfriend. 

He’s helping him, yes, but he’s still completely off limits.

The alpha slides down thick fingers through his wetness, coating the digits thoroughly before using the same hand to slick himself up.

“You were such a good omega, being patient,” Chan says, and Jeongin tamps down on the shiver that travels through his back at the praise, at his honeyed tone. “Time for a reward.”

Chan closes the distance. He hasn’t taken Jeongin’s hands like before, but there’s no need. He feels pinned down on his own. By Chan’s stare, by his own thoughts, by the rising want threatening to choke him. Chan positions himself properly.

This is Minho’s boyfriend.

Chan aligns his cock to the omega’s entrance, and moves forward.

Jeongin’s still not sure how this is actually happening as Chan penetrates him.

The slide in is eased by the copious amount of slick he’s produced between his heat and his orgasms, but even if Chan did his best to stretch him with his fingers, Jeongin knows there’s nothing that the alpha could have done to prevent this particular sensation as Chan breaches him for the first time. He gasps, unable to contain the sound that catches in his throat. Chan’s eyes are focused on him, intent as he slowly, so very slowly, drives his cock inside him. It’s too much, too close, the rawness of the moment too stark even through the haze of the heat. Jeongin covers his face with his forearms, a last ditch effort of protection against this extremely vulnerable moment.

It’s not so much the pain, probably alleviated by the drunken desire from the heat, but the painfully intimate sensation of letting someone be that close to him. Inside him.

“You’re taking me so well,” Chan soothes, his voice then the softest Jeongin’s heard all night.

Jeongin bites the flesh of his forearm to try to keep any sound from escaping him as Chan slides deeper, pausing carefully for a few beats before gently pushing inside again. Jeongin doesn’t know how his body can possibly fit what feels like so much. It seems unending.

“Breathe, Jeongin,” Chan says, soft but commanding.

Jeongin obeys, not having realized that in an attempt to bear with the foreign feeling, he’d contained his breath. And then he gasps when a thumb brushes his clit, slowly drawing circles on the hard nub that send pure electricity towards his cramped muscles.

“Good. Good omega,” Chan praises Jeongin, soft and sweet.

Jeongin doesn’t know exactly what of himself classifies as good, not with his broken omega body that couldn’t experience a normal first heat, but he clings to those words desperately like they’re rays of light after an endless and dark night. Chan praises Jeongin like he means it, like he’s been doing it all along, all his life. 

Jeongin wants to deserve it.

The alpha draws back a few breaths later, and the pain is gone, as if melted. And when he pushes back in, a small wave of warmth blooms in Jeongin’s core.

Oh.

Chan repeats the motion, painfully slowly, again and again, the movement dragging sweetly. Jeongin’s next breath is a sigh as pleasure ripples through his nerves, soothing, enticing.

This.

This is what he needed.

His body moves on his own, hips bucking minutely to seek Chan’s, legs pressing against the alpha to prompt him. To what, Jeongin doesn’t know. He just needs.

“Okay. Okay, I’ve got you,” Chan says, voice lower and a bit rougher despite the mirth in his tone.

Chan’s next thrust, still slow but just a bit deeper, makes Jeongin see stars. And when he repeats the motion again, Jeongin fails to notice how his overwhelmed gasps start morphing into pleasured moans. He also forgets his arms, which he previously used to cover himself, and they fall open on both sides of his face, baring him to Chan’s gaze.

“There you are,” Chan croons, still thrusting into him with slow but relentless drive.

Any other day, Jeongin would feel sad that the heat and the pleasure are meddling with his mind too much to appreciate the sight of Chan fucking him. His hard body, as he moves with each thrust. His uncharacteristically soft face, as he himself takes pleasure from it. His too kind eyes, now stormy with desire, as he takes in Jeongin unraveling for him.

Maybe he’s lucky he probably won’t remember all these details when the heat is over.

Soft moans accompany each of Chan’s thrusts, the sounds pulled from Jeongin by the endless rocking of the alpha’s hips. He’s increasing the tempo, abandoning the early carefulness in favor of chasing the stimulation.

Jeongin didn’t think this level of pleasure was possible. Like he’s at the peak, more intense than he’s ever felt, but instead of going over the edge it just goes on, and on.

Chan is not holding back now. Jeongin can barely clutch the sheets to ground himself as Chan thrusts into him without faltering, driven by pure need. Soft grunts escape his lips now and then, and Jeongin drinks them in, greedy.

“Chan, I’m—mmh!” Jeongin tries to warn him, of how his body is gradually tensing, his pleasure mounting high, higher.

The alpha doesn’t pause or slow down, if anything, his next thrusts seem hungrier, striking deeper. With just a few more thrusts, Jeongin comes, eyes tightly shut and mouth parted in a silent scream as white hot pleasure cascades onto him.

Chan slows down then, still moving in order to prolong Jeongin’s pleasure, but just enough not to overwhelm him. Jeongin breathes heavily once he gets his breath back, the aftershocks of his high still rippling through his every cell.

“How are you feeling?” Chan asks, stopping completely and looking all over Jeongin, like he can see beyond his skin to the mess that his heat has left him with. “Do you want to rest?”

Jeongin swallows on nothing, trying to make sense of his head and instincts. His skin still feels alight from his orgasm, yet the bottomless pit of want is back to screaming at him, like what Chan just did didn’t help him at all.

He really is broken.

Broken and useless.

“Hey. Hey, shhhh, Jeongin, it’s okay,” Chan reassures him when he sees the beginning of tears pooling in his eyes. Jeongin covers his face once more, unable to stomach Chan seeing him like this. “It’s okay to want more, and it’s okay not to want more. Some omegas aren’t satisfied until an alpha knots them, and others don’t need it,” Chan explains, and Jeongin is listening, he really is, but the pain in his chest is making breathing difficult. “Just tell me what you need, okay? Whatever it is, I’ll help.”

Chan is too kind. Literally any other omega in the world would be a better fit for him than Jeongin.

He doesn’t reply for a while, all his efforts focused on keeping his breathing even, on calming down enough so that the tears don’t fall. But still, the yawning gap of desire gnaws inside of him, insatiable, so he tells Chan what he wants the only way he can. He tightens his legs, driving Chan fully back inside him, making both of them moan. The alpha doesn’t need more than that.

“Alright. Again, then,” Chan acquiesces with the softest of smiles curving his lips.

The rhythm then is slower, gentler, and Jeongin’s shuddering breaths gradually thaw into soft moans, like frozen dew under the morning sun. In that moment, Chan feels so good inside Jeongin that the omega wishes this could last forever. No bonds, no cycles, just two bodies languidly seeking their pleasure in each other.

Maybe it’s the heat, or maybe it’s Jeongin’s body, but soon he’s sighing into the thrusts, his eyelids fluttering, fighting to keep his eyes open.

Jeongin lowers his arms, and his breath catches when his limbs bump into a firm body on their path to the mattress. Glossy eyes blink to find Chan there, barely a few breaths away from him. Even through the cloudiness of the heat, Jeongin spares half a thought to take in the handsome alpha.

It’s probably out of personal greed, but he doesn’t lower his hands. No, he keeps them on Chan’s shoulders, grabbing the hard muscle, clutching the only piece of fabric that’s still covering him.

Jeongin blames his heat for the desire of not having any barrier between them.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” Chan whispers, misunderstanding Jeongin’s actions.

Or maybe not. Maybe he knows what’s going through Jeongin’s head, the storm of confusing feelings and wants and desires that he would never have if it weren’t for the heat.

A different feeling, sweeter, and thicker, blooms from Jeongin’s core, covering his insides and reaching every corner and crevice. It burrows deep in his spine, taking over his muscles and snagging on his tendons.

Jeongin’s arms tremble in almost imperceptible shivers as he shifts his hold from Chan’s shoulder up, passing over his neck, and only stopping to cup the alpha’s strong jaw. Jeongin marvels at the warm flesh, the stubble-rough skin, the strong bones underneath. They’re close, very close, and Jeongin breathes Chan’s air while his hand moves past the man’s ear until his fingers thread between beautiful autumn-colored curls. His next breath is a shudder, full of pine and musk and the small sighs from Chan’s decadent hips joining with his time and time again. Slender digits burrow deeper into fine locks, weaving into the tresses, digging into the scalp, drawing Chan closer—

Jeongin lets both hands fall away, eyes wide. He blinks his eyes rapidly, like the action is going to sweep the confusion away from his mind. Like he wasn’t about to…

No.

He won’t think about it.

Chan drops his head, a tortured sound leaving his lips as he breathes in Jeongin’s scent.

“So sweet,” the alpha rasps. “Jeongin, I’m close, I’m—”

The languid pace of the alpha is no more, overtaken by lust and urgency as Chan seeks his own end. His inflating knot starts catching in his strokes, and a hunger like Jeongin’s never known engulfs the presenting omega. This. This, this, this. Jeongin is close too, driven to the edge by the rapid tempo of Chan’s thrusts, but this, the threat of Chan’s knot, this is what he needs.

A new kind of euphoria slams into the omega’s smaller body when Chan comes, burying himself as deep as he can go. The stretch feels impossible. And wonderful. And overwhelming. Satisfaction as deep as he’s ever known washes over him, makes his eyes glaze over as warmth blooms right in his core, stretched so incredibly perfectly around Chan’s knot. It will trap his release inside his body, keep it safely inside him for god knows how long.

Jeongin wishes it’s for a very, very long time.

Rough breaths tickle Jeongin’s ears as Chan comes down from his own high. The alpha presses his lips on Jeongin’s neck, just once, before drawing away. He’s breathing a bit heavily, sweat clinging to him in the most perfect way, and he’s so painfully handsome Jeongin feels like he’s dreaming.

“How are you feeling? Better than before?” Chan asks him, voice faint into the suddenly quiet room. His arms twitch, like they wanted to move somewhere but he restrained himself after half a second.

Jeongin blinks, swallows, works around his slowed down thoughts. He does. He feels worlds better, for the first time in what must have been countless hours. The haziness is receding, the bottomless desire is waning. It leaves entirely too much space for his mind to start overthinking. He simply nods to Chan with a hum, eyes darting everywhere but the alpha’s eyes.

Chan won’t have it. He takes his chin and gently redirects his face towards him, until his eyes finally meet his.

“Look at me, please,” the alpha asks, his words a whisper. “Better? Or not?”

Jeongin blinks, and blinks again, a useless defense against how close the alpha is, how dangerous it is if he learns whatever tangle of thoughts are brewing under Jeongin. He forces himself to meet his stare and croaks out, “Yeah. Better.”

He kind of wishes the cotton quality of his thoughts had remained.

“Good,” Chan says with the gentlest of smiles, brushing a few stray locks away from Jeongin’s forehead. “This might take a while. Try to rest, okay? You’ll need it.”

Jeongin nods, allowing himself the scant seconds before Chan moves to take in the alpha’s flushed face, the light in his eyes. Chan, with carefulness that speaks of experience, maneuvers both of their locked bodies so they’re laying on their sides. Jeongin closes his eyes, if nothing because this means there’s one more barrier between Chan and himself.

He doesn’t expect to sleep, but he’s out like a light in mere seconds.

☾

Gravity is a force that has no claim on Jeongin’s thoughts. He floats through swirls of color, half-painted landscapes, and watery lights. The only constant is the fragrance that accompanies him through the kaleidoscope-like voyage, the perfect blend of pine and sugar-glazed tonka. Warmth envelops him in the most heavenly of cages, surrounded by firm muscle that radiates safety and protection.

Yet something tugs on Jeongin’s mind.

He blinks his eyes open, feeling like his eyelids are incredibly too heavy for the task. He stirs on the bed, and the body around him moves with him as if in synchronicity. The movement is enough to make it clear that the alpha isn’t inside him anymore, and something in his stomach twists at not being knotted. At the emptiness.

Soon.

But first.

Jeongin moves away from the alpha’s embrace and gets up from the mattress, ignoring the man’s inquisitive tone. He looks around the bed, over and over again. Something’s missing. And that something is making everything feel immensely wrong.

He wordlessly pushes the alpha away from his mattress, again brushing off the jumbled mess of questioning sounds that come out of him. His eyelids and even his mind feel heavy, but he pushes through as he takes the discarded duvet and pillows and rearranges them the way they should be.

It’s not enough.

Jeongin tears his eyes off the incomplete bed and finds—bedding and blankets and more pillows, held aloft in the arms of the alpha.

Yes.

He greedily takes two pillows and a thick blanket and gets to work. Because even if he knows he wouldn’t be able to explain it, they need to be arranged in a very specific way for everything to be right. Sweetly, gently, he falls into a trance-like state as he places and moves around every item, arranging them exactly the way that his body demands it. He even takes his own shirt, uncaring that it leaves him completely bare in front of the alpha and placing it on its own spot beneath one of the pillows.

When it’s done, when he finally steps inside his first omega nest, Jeongin’s heart sings. He buries himself in its midst, shuffling all his exposed skin on every surface within reach to feel its softness, its give. He’s so incredibly happy he could almost vibrate. He rolls over the available flat surface, and snuggles against the raised sides in wonder. But when he smushes his face into the bedding, he furrows his brow, and smells it again.

Something’s still missing.

The omega rubs his tender wrists on the soft linen, across the topmost part of the nest that’s more in range of where he’ll lay his head later. He inhales the clothing again, but it’s not enough. He needs something…

Stronger.

Pupil-blown eyes lift from the bedding to the man that’s been quietly observing the whole time, letting Jeongin ride out the wave of pure omega instincts that had overtaken him.

“I—” Jeongin vocalizes, but words are too difficult, getting stopped by a mass of cloudy haze that’s become his mind. He frowns, trying to reach deeper into his consciousness, to find that blocked part of his brain that would allow him verbalization. When that fails, he raises a hand towards the alpha, fingers stretching towards the obediently waiting man.

Jeongin’s incredibly lucky that the alpha understands, nearing him with too-slow moves and grasping his raised hand with an inquisitive string of syllables. Jeongin doesn’t bother with them, and pulls the alpha down towards his nest. He can’t be too sad when the alpha lands on top of him, taking the opportunity to greedily rub all of himself against the man’s sculpted body.

But when he touches the alpha there’s a layer that’s keeping Jeongin from reaching the delicious smooth skin beneath. He whines and pulls at the offending piece of clothing, his fingers too uncoordinated with what his mind is so clear on demanding he do. The alpha chuckles, a warm sound that heats up Jeongin’s insides, and the next thing he knows that barrier is gone.

Jeongin revels in the new expanse of gloriously bare skin. He brings the alpha close, so close he’s basically laying on top of him, and rubs any and all surfaces he can reach, even dragging his cheek and jaw all over the alpha’s neck. Soon he’s breathing in pine and musk pheromones, and yes, this is exactly what was missing. He rubs himself harder to impregnate his skin with the alpha’s scent.

There’s a fire brewing in his core, and he knows he has to hurry.

He doesn’t know where he finds the strength, maybe it’s the alpha obediently catering to his wishes, but he pushes the man down to his nest. He straddles him in the next breath, hazy vision wrapping around the edges and tunneling his vision on the alpha’s gorgeously defined chest and abs and, most importantly, his hardening cock.

It’s like a lid has been opened. Hunger, complete and absolute, floods Jeongin on his next breath. His insides ache, primed and wet but so terribly empty. Small and clumsy hands take the hot length, and it’s more sheer want than actual knowledge that has him rising just above the hardness and trying to align it with himself. It’s easy, like nature itself intended it, and when he slowly sinks onto the alpha’s cock he mostly lets gravity do its job, ignoring any twinge and tenderness at the stretch.

A small moan escapes his lips as he takes the full length, thighs quivering slightly where they’re tightly encasing the alpha’s hips. He lets his head fall back, lets his eyelids flutter closed, as he savors the feeling of being so full, the utter rightness of it. His hips start moving on their own accord, a slow shift forward that’s not even an inch deep, before drawing back to his initial position. But just that small movement is enough to make the alpha’s cock drag deliciously inside him, and he can’t contain the sweet pleasured sound as his body is jump-started into a languid back and forth.

It’s a greedy pace with greedier moves, the heat blinding and deafening him against any other stimuli that doesn’t revolve around fucking. With no guide and no conception, Jeongin abandons himself to it, obeying his body and the pure need to take, take, take.

But it’s all new muscles that have never been used for this particular set of moves, and all too soon Jeongin begins to stutter, to shake with exertion. The omega sinks back down on the alpha’s body and whines, hands clawing at the man’s hard stomach in frustration.

He needs. He needs.

“Don’t worry, sweet omega. I’ll take care of you,” the alpha says, comforting words that melt into indiscernible vocalizations that never get to register in the omega’s brain.

Strong fingers take his, and tug him gently forward. He goes along, letting himself be coaxed down until he’s resting fully on top of the alpha. It feels good, the contact of a naked body against his feverish skin. There’s some shifting under him, and Jeongin grumbles, impatient and needy. The alpha chuckles, crooning with a honeyed mix of syllables that sound too far and too muddled for him to understand.

But then the alpha grips Jeongin’s waist and thrusts up, and all breath is driven right out of his lungs. He doesn’t mean to moan as loudly as he does then, but the sound comes out of him without warning, as the alpha’s moves strike true. It’s the raw power that Jeongin feels in them, the way his hunger is mirrored, that makes his own blood thrum in warmth.

It does something to Jeongin, the fact that he’s on top of the alpha, but still being very much at his mercy. The alpha’s pace is fast and unrelenting, bucking up into Jeongin with strong hips that cause waves of blinding hot pleasure to mount higher in his core. At some point, the alpha wraps his arms around Jeongin to hold him tighter, to thrust up with more force, and Jeongin loses control of the pleasured sounds emerging from his throat. The strong limbs form the most perfect cage, both protecting and keeping Jeongin prisoner. The wet smacks of their joining sound as sinful as the alpha’s grunts, but Jeongin can’t hear them, his eyes crossing as pleasure floods every single cell in his body.

The alpha fucks up into him with abandon even through Jeongin’s orgasm, holding him down despite the quakes that travel through his body, forcing him to take more, to feel more. The alpha’s knot starts catching where it’s swelling at the base, and Jeongin whimpers, fingers digging into sculpted shoulders. He’s being jolted by the powerful thrusts, but the alpha’s thick arms keep him in place, so he can’t slip away and can only lay there and take his knot.

Jeongin is thrown over the edge once more when the alpha comes, burying himself as deep as he can go, locking their panting bodies together. He pants around his pleasure-slackened mouth, blinking but not really seeing anything, only feeling the deep satisfaction once the warmth blooming inside him is securely trapped by the alpha’s knot.

The chest under him vibrates, the crooning low tones enveloping him in a safe cocoon that guides him towards a light and dreamless rest.

☾

Chan is snoring softly when Jeongin wakes up, feverish but slightly clear-headed. He’s still on top of him, his arms a comforting weight instead of a grounding cage around him. He’s sore, and thirsty, and hungry, and there’s a funny feeling building in his lower belly that he doesn’t have the mental capacity to deal with.

The wonderful pressure of the knot is gone, even though the warmth persists, so Jeongin has no qualms lifting his torso. His brain briefly checks out at the scent of powerful alpha pheromones that Chan emanates even in his sleep, and he does his best to ignore the wave of want that surges from his chest to his throat.

However, like the perfect partner he is, Chan immediately wakes up at the feel of Jeongin’s shifting. The arms around him tighten, the warm skin brushing his sensitive lower back and spine in the most wonderful way.

“What is it?” Chan asks, and gods, his voice is the lowest and roughest Jeongin’s ever heard. His thirst doubles at the sound. “What do you need?”

“Wanna drink,” Jeongin says, eyes looking everywhere but Chan. His voice, he discovers, is no better than the alpha’s.

Unable to bear their closeness a second longer, Jeongin doesn’t wait for Chan and instead pushes himself up and away from him. The alpha’s cock slips out from him in the process, and nausea claws at Jeongin’s throat for a few long seconds until his body gets reacquainted with the emptiness.

Chan doesn’t question him, doesn’t hover over him, and instead he gets up from the bed and makes for the bags with supplies. Even with this, he’s too considerate.

Jeongin reaches for the old sports drink on the bedside table, but Chan stops him before he can place it on his lips.

“Take this one. It’s full,” he instructs, handing him a newly opened bottle, which Jeongin takes. “Do you know who I am?” Chan’s question takes him by surprise. He swallows the refreshing liquid, and finally looks at Chan in the eyes.

A steady, dark gaze meets him, and Jeongin’s stomach drops at the undesired intimacy of the gaze.

My older brother’s boyfriend.

As if Jeongin could ever forget.

“Yeah. Chan,” he supplies, eyes safely darting back towards his bottle.

“Good,” Chan says, grabbing a brightly colored foil-wrapped packaging, opening it with not-so-surprisingly careful fingers. Chan is fastidiously careful with everything, so Jeongin shouldn’t be surprised to see it extends to food wrapping. “It’s good that you’re more lucid now. Think you can eat?” He asks, offering the chocolate granola bar.

Jeongin doesn’t say how hungry he is, starving like it had been entire days since he last ate something. He just nods and takes the granola and bites half of it, welcoming the punch of flavor on his dormant taste buds.

“There was a moment when I don’t think you understood what I was saying. But that’s normal, it happens when we’re at the peaks of the cycle’s waves,” Chan explains, handing him another granola bar—red berries this time—and grabbing one for himself.

Jeongin tries to remember when that happened, but his mind uselessly supplies him with instances of Chan fucking his brains out, of knotting him and coming inside him. He blinks and forces the thoughts out of his head, praying that his heat already had the skin of his cheeks flushed.

Taking inventory of his body while chewing the energy bar, Jeongin notices that the sweat has dried on his skin, much like many other fluids. He desperately wants a shower and to feel clean again, but at the same time his hindbrain hates the thought of washing away the scents. It’s a warring of desires inside his head, and Jeongin wishes everything can be over soon.

The granola bars were light but filling enough that Jeongin doesn’t feel like a hungry void anymore. He takes another swig of the sports drink, and Chan asks him if he’s feeling fine now. And even though Chan is right there in front of him, the sound of his voice is muffled, as if he were speaking from far away. Jeongin nods, because he’s feeling much better, with his hunger and thirst tended to, and his thoughts quieting to a low buzz.

His vision is growing fuzzy at the edges, but it’s okay because the pool of warmth in his belly makes him feel calm and content, and there’s another reason for him to feel safe. A low voice mumbles in indistinguishable syllables, melodic and soothing in its quality. Jeongin blinks, wanting to hear more of it. Wanting to feel the vibrations of the sound against his own naked torso. To feel strong arms holding him. To have a hot length slide home inside him.

When he looks up, the alpha takes whatever it is he was holding away, and his fingers let go with soft pliancy. The world tilts, slowly and carefully, and he finds his nose pressed against warm bed sheets that smell of pine and musk. He bunches the bedding in his grabby hands, rubbing his chin and legs against the cloth so his tonka and sugar blends into the scent. His throat trembles, but the sheets are soft, so soft.

His legs are spread from behind, and he’s too weak to impose any resistance. He’s bared to the hot air behind him, positioned as if he were an offering, and breached like his nature is demanding. He hears the distinct wet sound of the alpha’s cock sinking into his soaked cunt, he feels his folds part around the unyielding hardness.

The breath is taken from his lungs as he is filled so deliciously to his limit, and then he is taken by the alpha’s hunger that’s threatening his own.

☾

Jeongin would like to say he’s present and lucid for most of his heat, but he would be lying to himself.

Chan expertly guides him through the highs and lows of his presenting heat, comforting him when he’s (semi) clear-headed, and taking him apart when he’s overridden by the heat’s instincts.  Jeongin is helpless to succumb to them, endlessly seeking Chan’s knot, Chan’s fucking, Chan’s attention on him and only him.

Jeongin doesn’t understand how he can’t get enough of the alpha. He’s been fucked by the man countless times, in the throes of the heat where he only saw him as a nameless alpha to satisfy his desires, and in those quiet moments where he remembered Chan and himself. As much as he could while being fucked like there’s no tomorrow, that is.

Now, with every round his mind becomes increasingly less hazy, his thoughts becoming more coherent little by little. He’s seated on Chan’s lap, straddling him, warming his hot length, and yet the hunger persists. He has latched on the man’s neck, seeking the intoxicating scent that’s still making him crazy, all those hours or days later, sucking and kissing and licking the sensitive skin. 

Chan allows it, like the generous alpha he is. He cradles him in his thick arms and rocks him to keep the fire burning low in his belly going. Jeongin’s eyes are lidded, heavy, and his thoughts have gone back a bit to cottony soft while his mouth waters at the divine alpha scent. He plays with the relief of the gland, applying varying degrees of pressure, pressing his lips and teeth to get more of the scent.

His teeth ache.

The alpha’s patience must run thin, because Chan lets out a low groan and grabs Jeongin’s hips with unrepentant force, bucking into him with rapid thrusts. The omega can do nothing more than hold on and let himself be bounced on Chan’s lap, the heat of his core welcoming his cock. He’s forced to let go of Chan’s addicting neck to gasp and moan, the sounds pounded out of him by the alpha’s eager moves.

Jeongin claws at Chan’s shoulders, and the alpha grunts, squeezing his hips tighter, ramming into him. Seeing Chan so far gone into his own desire, taking to satisfy a hunger of his own and not the omega’s, does things to Jeongin. Knowing he’s the one who caused it. Preening at that heady want being aimed at him. Chan growls his pleasure against Jeongin’s ear and that’s all it takes for the omega to come, body going taut where it’s being held by Chan.

The alpha, ever the considerate partner even when overridden by the animalistic side of his instincts, slows down to a calm sinuous roll of his hips. He mumbles something against Jeongin’s temple that’s too close-mouthed for Jeongin to understand, then drags his swollen lips to his cheek, kissing the flushed skin. 

That’s normal, Chan has kissed his head and his neck and his torso. It’s just what the alpha does to soothe his partners in bed, and Jeongin bets they felt as good as he does, maybe better if it’s possible.

What’s not normal is when Chan’s lips trail horizontally, reaching the corner of his mouth. All breath stops in Jeongin’s throat, and he whips his head to the side, evading the alpha’s lips. Jeongin’s panting, and for the first time, it’s not due to their fucking. Had he not reacted… would Chan have kissed him? Or is he imagining things, is he projecting, and Chan would only have crossed over to this other cheek?

The alpha growls, clearly displeased at being denied, and moves his mouth to Jeongin’s jaw, leaving hot kisses that slide safely away from Jeongin’s lips and towards his neck.

Rationally he knows that, after being fucked by this man countless times in a wide variety of positions, worrying about kissing would be kind of futile. But still, even if they’ve fucked, even if it was his brother himself who orchestrated the whole thing in the first place. That’s a line that Jeongin won’t cross.

No matter how much he wants to.

Chan, oblivious to Jeongin’s train of thought, kisses his way to the omega’s Adam’s apple, then to the sensitive juncture of his neck. It’s only when he reaches the general vicinity of Jeongin’s scent gland that he stops, and even his hips stop rolling as the alpha takes a deep lungful of Jeongin’s pheromones. 

The world seems to pause then, like a lake so calm its surface could serve as a mirror.

Jeongin doesn’t dare move.

Chan’s plush lips pressing directly on his scent gland feel like a jolt of pure electricity. It makes him clench around Chan’s cock, and the alpha growls, answering with a hungry buck of his hips. Before Jeongin can think of so much as gasping, he’s being pushed back down towards the mattress. He lands softly on the bed’s pillows, but Chan’s next thrusts are anything but soft. The alpha grunts, chasing the sweet heat of Jeongin’s cunt, his arms on either side of the omega trembling from the force and exertion.

The next touch on Jeongin’s neck isn’t from Chan’s cushiony lips, but from the blunt edge of his alpha teeth. Jeongin cries out as Chan nips his neck, dragging his teeth across the swollen surface of the skin above his scent gland, sending live wire sparks through Jeongin’s veins. The omega braces his arms on Chan’s shoulders, to hold on or to push away he isn’t sure, moaning at the combined assault. Chan laps at the skin over the gland, only pausing to suck and lightly bite at it. The pleasure is electrifying, deafening, and Jeongin is powerless to stop the orgasm barraging into him, stealing his breath and his cries.

Chan fucks him through it, hungry and eager, his grunt at the tightness of Jeongin’s spasming body the only sign he noticed his climax. With lips firmly fastened around Jeongin’s scent gland, the alpha keeps licking and sucking the hypersensitive skin, the wet smacks of his kisses loud even through their panting.

Until, in one of Chan’s fervent nips, Jeongin feels the whisper of a canine’s sharpness.

It’s pure instinct that drives his arms up, to push Chan away from the dangerous temptation of his neck. And even if Chan follows, slowing his hips and lifting from Jeongin, the omega gets the stomach-churning impression that he only did so because the alpha himself decided to. That no amount of force from Jeongin would have dislodged Chan from the crook of his neck if he hadn’t allowed it.

The alpha that stares down at him has eyes that have been completely engulfed by lust, a dark and hungry glint shining in the orbs that make Jeongin’s breath catch. A gorgeous flush is tinting his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, his curls accented by the sweat. He’s breathing heavily, and his shapely lips are parted around… 

Fully lengthened alpha canines.

Jeongin’s blood freezes, then begins boiling.

“So pretty,” Chan rasps, his pronunciation affected by the extended fangs.

The alpha’s eyes are intense and penetrating, roving over the entirety of Jeongin’s naked body with a hunger that’s bordering on more feral than human.

Jeongin swallows around a dry throat.

Chan’s hips kick forward like he can’t stop himself, like he’s done with waiting, and he drinks in Jeongin’s response with dark fixation, the helpless flutter of Jeongin’s eyelids and the parting of his lips around a moan. Any words die on Jeongin’s throat, tamped down by the surge of sweet sounds as Chan finds a steady and firm pace.

Like nothing had happened.

Like his instincts aren’t screaming at him to bite the sweet pliant omega riding the last dregs of his heat, to sink his teeth into the welcoming plush gland that smells so deliciously sweet that’s making his mouth water.

His brother’s boyfriend looks gorgeous like that, with the defined muscles of his upper body highlighted by the sweat, with his thick arms keeping Jeongin spread for him, with his abs shifting with every thrust inside him.

When Chan leans down again, Jeongin is helpless to stop him, arms folding like he’s water and Chan is a rock. Hot puffs of breath hit the damp blushed skin of his neck, and a choked cry escapes his lips as thrill floods his every vein. Chan grunts, his hips snapping harder and messier, chasing his own release. But that fanged mouth bypasses Jeongin’s neck, and instead, the alpha’s teeth clamp down on the pillow just beside Jeongin’s head.

That’s when Chan truly lets go, pounding into the moaning omega, growling against the pillow that’s on the receiving end of the crazed alpha bite and would probably not survive the round.

Jeongin comes again just before Chan does, bullying his alpha knot inside his cunt, trapping his release as deep as their bodies allow. Chan drops on top of Jeongin, still panting from his own high, and the omega bears his grounding weight with a selfishness he has no place harboring. A few breaths later, Chan rolls both of them over, so it’s Jeongin who’s resting on top of him. 

Thick, soothing fingers card through Jeongin’s hair, scratching his scalp in a calming caress. None of them move, their energy finally spent, the itch finally scratched.

“Sleep,” Chan nudges him with a whisper of a voice.

So Jeongin does.

☾

A towel, softer than any he’s ever felt, wakes him back up an indefinite amount of time later. It’s brushed over the skin of his back, his shoulders, his thighs. He wiggles away, feeling like any touch is too much for his oversensitive skin.

“You up?” Chan asks, and his voice is low from the intimacy, but smooth, missing the raspiness of desire that Jeongin had grown to know so well. Jeongin shifts to his side to look at him, and finds the alpha clothed in dark lounge clothes and clear eyes. “Want a shower?”

Jeongin could kiss him for that suggestion, feeling like he could crawl out of his own skin after all the sweat and slick and come.

Except, this is still his brother’s boyfriend.

Even if he fucked him all through his heat, however long it took. Because for the first time in a long while his mind is grounded. Still a bit cottony, but without the haziness and lust of the heat.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and gods he needs a glass of water because his voice is shot, completely unlike Chan’s composed one.

He shuffles on top of the messy bed towards the nightstand to take a sip of the nearest drink. Chan comes around the bed to stay near him, and Jeongin can only throw him a questioning glance as he swallows the much needed hydration.

Thirst quenched, he deposits the bottle back down and stands from the bed in order to go to his ensuite bathroom.

Except that as soon as he’s on his two feet, his muscles fail him all at once, and he would have dropped painfully on the ground if it weren’t for Chan catching him. There isn’t any ounce of doubt or hesitation in the alpha as he picks Jeongin up and carries him to the bathroom.

“You’re going to need some time until you’re back to your full strength,” Chan supplies, unasked, and Jeongin is grateful because it’s too much.

It’s too much when Chan lowers him back down on the tiled floor, when his muscles tremble and his core aches in a kind of weakness he’s never felt before. Too much when he can’t take a step on his own, when it’s Chan who has to turn on the shower. Too much when Chan strips himself again, and Jeongin has to lean on his water-soaked body and let Chan wash him because he’s too drained to do it himself.

And it’s entirely too much when Chan turns off the shower and drops to his knees in front of Jeongin, a reverent look on his face as he lifts Jeongin’s thigh and brings his mouth to his cunt.

Jeongin trembles and moans his way to one final orgasm, weak and drained but no less satisfying. Chan licks and sucks at him like a starved man, devouring what he knows is his last meal for a long while.

Glossy-eyed, Jeongin stays obediently still when Chan dries him up and takes him back to his room.

“Nest? Or should I change the bedding?” Chan considerately asks him, carrying him all bundled up with the towel.

Jeongin wants the nest, desperately, so he says, “Change the bedding.”

In the same amount of time that Chan takes to strip the mattress and make it again with clean sheets, Jeongin painstakingly puts on the comfiest clothes he owns, even if they’re old and not exactly in their best state.

He suppresses a sigh when Chan wraps his arms around him again and carries him to the bed. It feels all kinds of wrong, without the high backing and the multiple pillows. Completely bare of any scent except faint fabric softener that’s floral but so unlike any of both their scents. And, well, maybe he should reconsider his previous thought of his heat being completely over.

Jeongin wants to cry when Chan doesn’t leave him after depositing him on the bed, and instead stays there with him, hugging him to his bigger, warm body.

A traitorous voice inside Jeongin unhelpfully supplies that unclothed contact would probably feel leagues better. 

He stomps it down into nothingness.

Chan doesn’t ask how he’s feeling, and Jeongin doesn’t say that he feels like someone unraveled his very skin and put it on the other way around. He doesn’t admit that the only thing keeping him together is Chan’s hold, the grounding warmth of his muscles. He doesn’t confess how prohibitively good it felt to spend his heat with Chan, how his body and heart aches that this will be the first and last time it happened.

He can’t even begin considering what he’ll do for his next heats.

Because… it’ll be a recurring thing for him from now on. 

As a presented omega.

☾

Minho comes into Jeongin’s room with the first rays of sunlight, rousing both of them from a light, dreamless sleep with his soft knocking. Chan shifts behind him, repositioning the arms he has around his middle, but Jeongin stubbornly keeps his eyes closed, feigning sleep.

He can’t even lie to himself about being tired. He just has no idea how to face his brother after his boyfriend helped him through his heat.

Faint steps near their bed, and the mattress dips slightly at the same time that he breathes in the jasmine of Minho’s scent, so familiar it’s like a beacon in the endless night sky.

“Innie,” Minho says, softly, somewhere in front of him.

Jeongin has the horrible sensation that the nickname doesn’t fit him anymore.

He doesn’t reply, keeping his eyes closed and his features as relaxed as possible. But he almost blinks them open in surprise when Chan’s arms tighten around him, just the tiniest bit.

“He’s still sleeping. Probably needs lots of rest for a while,” Chan whispers to his boyfriend.

Jeongin hears Minho hum, feels the touch of small and gentle fingers brushing his hair.

“You’re fine,” Minho murmurs. “Everything’s fine, Innie.”

Those words break him.

It takes all his focus to keep his breathing steady. It’s fine. It’s fine, it’s fine. Because the alternative is something so daunting, Jeongin doesn’t think he has the courage to face it. His mind alternates between looping on itself and being completely blank. He wishes he were everywhere but here, he wishes Minho would never leave him.

Everything’s fine.

Minho speaks to Chan in soothing tones, but Jeongin can’t stop and listen beyond the jumble of thoughts that have become his mind.

Outside, the familiar sound of the busy city filters through the closed windows.

It’s fine.

His older brother’s boyfriend just took his virginity and his first heat, his presenting heat, but it’s fine. 

The sun will rise again tomorrow and the world will go on like something absolutely world changing hasn’t just happened.